Spike watched the axe-carrying figure, who walked toward him, with suspicion. His eyes narrowed even further as he inhaled deeply. "You're not Joyce," he accused.

The woman gave a gentle shake of her head but continued to move nearer as he pushed himself into a standing position with the tree's bulk at his back. "I feel like Joyce."

"Seein' as I've never felt up the lady in question I'd have to take your word for that, but you don't smell like her. Might fool a human but you can forget about gettin' near enough to any of her girls to find out."

The thing, whatever it was, probably some sort of shapeshifter, moved even closer. Probably some demon Warren and his mates had summoned up to play with their heads. Pretend to be a vengeance demon and hope that Spike would be stupid enough to vouch for it when it plays Joyce for the encore. "You remember what I smelled like after all this time?"

"I remember everythin' about Joyce." Spike ground the words out, knowing he should strike out at this thing, but unable to make the first move against anything that wore that face.

"Then, you'll remember the last time we talked. The gallery had received a double shipment of Greek amphorae."

The vampire's head tilted to one side and he looked more closely at the woman, who was no more than four feet away from him.

"You'll remember that I know you like your hot chocolate with those little tiny marshmallows, only you call it cocoa." Two feet.

"Joyce?" The hushed whisper held a world of awe. "S'that really you?"

Joyce gave a warm smile and leaned the axe she carried against the tree. "I think that might be what I've been trying to tell you for the last five minutes." Her gaze flicked to the east where the sky was getting lighter. "Maybe we could finish this at your crypt? It looks like you're going to have to get under cover soon and my legs feel a bit on the shaky side."

In the blink of an eye Spike was at her side, an arm around her waist, letting her rest most of her weight on him as they made their way toward his home. The axe was left behind, neither one of them giving it a moment's thought. Only when the encroaching sun threatened, did Spike apologetically sweep Joyce into his arms, making the rest of the journey at a run.

"I'll be fine," Joyce protested as Spike insisted on settling her on his sofa and tucking blankets around her.

"Sure you will... 'cause you're goin' to relax an' let Spike take care of you," the vampire insisted.

"Buffy needs—"

"Buffy's got all her friends an' her li'l sis to take care of her for now." He couldn't quite keep the bitterness from his tone. "She'll manage until you're feelin' better. Now are you gonna stay put 'til I can get the makin's for some cocoa sorted out?"

Joyce's eyes pinned the vampire in place. "Buffy can be stubborn... but she isn't entirely stupid. I know what's happened between you two since I died." Joyce raised a hand as Spike looked as if he might interrupt. "You're far from blameless, I know, but you're not the only one. She's too fragile to cope with such a radical mental shift right now, but one of these days, if you're patient with her, she'll realise that she had one more friend than she thought."

"I'm not sure I have it in me for patience, Joyce, love." Spike turned away, blinking sharply and pretending to examine the box of jars and tubs next to his microwave until he found the cocoa powder. "An' I'm even less sure that I want to be her friend. Not if it means bein' around to watch when she picks up wi'the next Captain Cardboard."

"Then why am I here?" Joyce asked, her voice soft as Spike took out what milk he had left in his fridge and sniffed it to make sure it was fresh, all the time keeping his back to her.

"Just want her to be whole." Spike tipped almost all of the milk into a jug which he placed in the microwave and then poured the remainder into a mug to which he added some of the cocoa powder, stirring at it as if it demanded his full concentration, as though reducing it to a lump free paste were of supreme importance. Finally, he could delay no longer and he set the cup atop the microwave to wait until the milk had heated. He leaned against the crypt's wall, keeping his face in shadow as he watched the woman. "I mean, I used to think it was when they brought her back that she was broken... an' I doubt it helped, but I think it was when she lost you that started it. It was just too much for her. Slayin', studyin', tryin' to be a mum to her little sis."

"Even if being whole means that you lose her?"

"I lost the woman I fell in love with a long ways back, Joyce. I thought I could be happy with the bits, but maybe I'm not that big on compromise. I'm tired. Tired of all the lies. Tired of havin' to take Harris's crap about how he's her friend an' I'm not when the only reason he's hanging 'round is 'cause he's lookin' for sympathy. Tired of it all." The vampire popped the door on the microwave and slowly tipped the heated milk into the mug, stirring as he did so. Adding a teaspoon of sugar to sweeten it slightly without making it as sickly as the instant chocolate mixes he had tried and discarded, he carried the mug over to Joyce. She sipped at it appreciatively but made no move to interrupt.

"I fell in love with her 'cause she treated me like a man, made me want to be more than I was ever meant to be, made me believe I could be more... for her.

I always knew the darkness was there, knew it was curled up inside her, waitin'. Never knew that gettin' what I wanted would take us both to hell, though. Thought she was my heaven, an' there were moments... that she was. Maybe she's right though. Maybe demon like me's not meant to have anythin' pure."

Joyce set her mug down on the floor and gave the vampire an assessing look. "Have I said thank you, yet?"

Spike answered with a rueful lopsided smile. "Reckon I still owe you a drink or twelve for all the ones you've made me, an' as for the rest seein' as how it's my fault you've been ripped out of heaven I figure it's the least I could do."

"I didn't mean for this morning. I meant for when Glory tortured you, for when you helped the girls when they ran, for fighting to save Dawn when even Rupert would have regarded her death as an acceptable loss, for all those nights of watching Dawn when she needed a big brother, and for watching over the house when she didn't even know you were there, for taking up Buffy's duties and watching over her friends, for being the only person she could talk to when they brought her back, for fighting at her side, for being here for them both."

"Don't have to thank me, Joyce. S'not why I did it, any of it."

"No, you did it because your heart wouldn't let you do anything else. I understand that, now. Some day, so will Buffy." Spike looked at Joyce in confusion and she felt compelled to continue. "I can't make her love you... any more than you can, but if I can help her appreciate what you've done for all of us and make her see how poorly she's treated you in return, then I will."

"Why?" Spike asked in awe, before he stumbled to expound on what he meant. "You were the one that ran off Peaches, an' it's not like the witches would have done the disinvite without gettin' the okay from you, so it's not like you were thrilled to bits when you found out how I felt about her, so why now?"

"Actually, Buffy did arrange for Willow to do the disinvite spell without asking me. Of course, when she came home and told me that you'd chained her up and threatened to let Drusilla eat her, I wasn't about to argue.

Just the same, I didn't bring my daughter up to believe that she could disregard other people's feelings. She's been very lost, but that doesn't excuse some of the things she's done. I've seen you change. I've watched you struggle with your demon. I've seen your successes and I've watched you fail, and more often than not if someone, anyone, had been there to offer some support, instead of trying to keep you down, that would have made the difference."

"Life's not like that, Joyce."

"Maybe not, William... but it should be." When Spike didn't answer Joyce picked up her mug again and sipped at the hot chocolate, letting her words take root.

Willow passed Buffy a glass of iced water and took a seat beside Xander and Dawn on the sofa, leaving Buffy feeling like she was facing an interview panel as she sat facing them from the armchair, especially when all three stared at her as if waiting for her to perform. Yet, if she didn't comply they'd probably just stare at her some more. Why was it that they had to make things so hard, she wondered.

"I was, uh, checking houses on that list you gave me, and looking for Warren and his pals... and then, bam! Some kind of gross waxy demon-thing poked me."

Instead of letting her continue with her story, now that she'd managed to get started, Xander had to make with the phallic references. "And when you say poke..." His tone made it sound as if he meant it as some sort of amusing double entendre but Buffy knew that Xander had never been completely happy at the idea of her with any other male. Sure, when he was all 'wait and a good one will come along', he was fine about the theory and yet, whenever he was confronted by the reality of Buffy boyfriend, there was always some reason not to trust them. They were vamps. They were mixed up with creepy commando guys. They weren't him... right up until they two-timed her with vamp ho bags and then he'd tell her what a good catch they were.

Buffy rolled her eyes with an exasperation that she pretended was good-natured. "In the arm. It stung me or something, and... then I was like... No, it wasn't like. I was in an institution. There were, um... doctors and... nurses and, and other patients. They, they told me that I was sick. I guess crazy. And that, um, Sunnydale and, and all of this, it... none of it... was real."

"Oh come on," Xander protested as if the idea of him being simply a figment of someone else's imagination was unthinkable. "That's ridiculous! What? You think this isn't real just because of all the vampires and demons and ex-vengeance demons and the sister that used to be a big ball of universe-destroying energy?" Finally, his brain and mouth both made it into the same gear, neutral, and he paused with a frown to consider the situation.

"I know how this must sound, but... it felt so real." Her eyes met Dawn's and with a wistful whisper she added, "Mom was there."

"She was?" her sister asked excitedly, anxious for any connection to her lost mother even if it came courtesy of her sister's hallucinations.

"Dad, too. They were together..." She continued in her soft tone, but her eyes no longer focused on her sister. "Like they used to be... before Sunnydale."

Willow jumped to her feet, sticking her hand in the air. "Okay, All in favour of research?" Xander's hand came up. "Motion passed. Alright, Xander, you hit the demon bars. Dig up any info on a new player in town. Dawnie, you can help me research. We'll hop online, check all the demon web sites."

As they all rushed off to do their research, not one of them realised that they were leaving Buffy alone in her nightmare world.