He's No Angel presents In the Name of Love
by TalesOfSpike

(US R UK 15)

Disclaimer: Joss owns everything. Joss is God. Still think he's cruel. Still want him to be nicer to Spikey-babe, but He is God, and He owns everything (except the bits that Fox and UPN and Mutant Enemy and all the rest own).

Author's Note: This was my first attempt at FanFic, in fact it was the first time I'd written anything in about fifteen years. When it was posted originally it was completely unbeta-ed, but I and t_geyer, my beta of the past four years, are going to try to touch it up a little now that some kind person has nominated it at one of the award sites... Hopefully, we'll get it finished before the judges get to it.

The club in this chapter is fictitious but is loosely based on a composite of various places I've been to, all of which were in the UK and France not the US so if things are different over there, sorry. (Yes I admit it. I have Goth type tendencies and my hair was black with pink streaks when I wrote this and yes, I am old enough to remember what's changed since say ten years ago - make that nearer fifteen years ago now.) I had originally intended that Spike would totally avoid Angel and all his lot when he got to LA. The phone-call from Dawn to Angel was just to play safe if he bumped into him. For reasons explained in the chapter I changed my mind. I've assumed that as far as the Angel plot lines are concerned this happens a day or so after Angel gave Cordelia a stack of cash to go away with Groo, and she has. Mainly because that was as far as we were up to over here.

This is to indicate flashbacks

Someone asked why I insist on revisiting this awful episode.

Answer: "To make the wrong things right." The Crow.

Hope you enjoy 

Chapter 6

Spike rubbed his cheek, and gave a rueful smile. At least one of the Summers women thought he was worthy of some affection. The DeSoto pulled away before Dawn got to the front door, Spike not wanting to see Buffy again... just yet.

He made a last stop at a butcher's to fill the cooler in the trunk of the De Soto, and then he headed south. He flipped over the tape that was in the deck and turned the volume up high.

His face twisted into a grimace as he recognised the Buzzcocks' guitar intro, the lyrics seeming all too appropriate, but that didn't prevent him from singing along.

"You disturb my natural emotions
You make me feel I'm dirt and I'm hurt
And if I cause a commotion
I run the risk of losing you and that's worse..."

As he belted out the words, he found himself trying to analyse what was going on and what had gone wrong between him and Buffy.

Right up until that last night, she had treated him like dirt, and he had let her. This morning, he'd practically begged her to keep doing it. That wasn't healthy. He was a sick, sick puppy.

'Okay,' he reasoned, 'so, if she tries that again, you pull her on it, and, if she won't treat you like a man, then you walk away or you throw her out or whatever it takes. You don't let her turn it into a fist-fight and you don't let her use you for a punching bag. You don't let her treat you like some sort of sex-toy. You don't let her treat you like something she's ashamed of. She was right. She was using you and it had to stop. You definitely don't say stuff that tells her you have no respect for yourself, and if she chooses to be with you that makes her worse. Things like, "I may be dirt, but you're the one who likes to roll in it, Slayer," are a big no-no.'

Right, she had used him. He had let her. Both were big mistakes, but nothing that couldn't be sorted out if they made a fresh start... If he could convince her that she wanted to make a fresh start.

"Ever fallen in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?
I can't see much of a future
Unless we find out what's to blame, what a shame.
And we won't be together much longer
Unless we realise that we are the same."

Right, so, reasons why she wouldn't want to make a fresh start.

'Apart from the fact she thinks you're a total wanker incapable of doing anything right? Or that's what she said in front of soldier-boy anyway...

Could she have been covering? Maybe she didn't believe it really; maybe she didn't want to give away in front of White Bread that she cared, maybe a bit. I mean most of the time she'd arranged to patrol with you. Why would she want you around if she really thought that? Surely that would put her in danger?

Yeah, when they were on opposite sides you'd never really got the better of her, but if her mum hadn't shown up it would all have been over in the school. You'd have had her in your first fight. All the rest was just luck... Timing... And all those years she'd never managed to kill you either. How many vamps had been around the Slayer as long as you have, even just counting pre-Initiative time and were still alive. Bollocks to incompetent!

You're supposedly evil.'

Spike considered this for a time. He liked to think that, unlike certain other people, he didn't kid himself about himself. He knew that, these days, the Big Bad was a persona he wore on occasion, not who he was any more. He knew that when it came to being evil he was way down in line, well behind the people from the IRS. Apart from the rougher side of his relationship with Buffy and some occasional shoplifting, he'd not done anything for months... until the eggs. As for the violence, she was as much to blame as he was. He'd willingly accept more than half the blame for that first night, and she'd been in a worse state the next morning than he'd ever intended, but she'd given as good as she got and he hadn't regretted a single bruise on his body.

Wait up, though... He was feeling bad because she turned it from a knockdown drag-out fight into foreplay. If they'd fought each other to a stand-off, called the honours even and then gone for a drink or something he wouldn't feel guilty. It was because she jumped his bones that everything had started to seem perverted. And he'd only started the fight to prove that she couldn't just beat him down whenever she didn't want to hear what he had to say. She'd been taking slugs at him, knowing or at least thinking she knew that he couldn't hit back.

Yes, he'd had dreams about fighting with her where the fighting led to sex, but he never fantasised about hurting her. The fights were more like sparring matches, almost choreographed into a rough and tumble ballet. Hurting her was not part of his fantasies. He had a kink, where fighting and sex were linked, but it was all to do with adrenaline and competition, not inflicting pain for the sake of pain. Yeah, so they both got in a few bites and scratches, but that was using pain as a stimulus not some sadistic crap.

Okay, when it came to sex, he wasn't exactly a vanilla kind of guy. Maybe there were some people who would say he was evil because of that, but he'd never believed that there was anything wrong about the giving and receiving of pleasure between consenting adults. He'd had a hundred and twenty years to practice. If you were the kind of guy that cared about pleasing your partners, rather than the stick it in, wiggle it about, roll over and expect them to be grateful type, and somehow he had Finn pegged as the latter, then you could pick up a hell of a lot in that sort of time.

"I'm disgusted with myself," she'd said. "the most perverse degrading experience of my life," she'd said. "Maybe you get off on it, but it's not my style."

She couldn't still feel that way, could she? She'd come to him plenty of times since then. If she was disgusted by what they did, would she keep coming back? Or had he turned her into some sort of junkie, hating herself but coming to him for her next fix. Had he done that to her? "But you like what I do to you?" he'd once asked. She hadn't admitted it, but there had certainly been no denial, and she'd looked more shy than shamed.

Last night, up until action man's entrance, had been the most incredible night of his life. Back in the day wedding vows included the phrase, "with this body I thee worship." That was what last night had been to him. Surely, she must have felt at least some fraction of what he had. There had been real feeling there, one-sided perhaps, but genuine emotion just the same. There was no way she could think there was anything depraved about last night.

He had to believe that, whilst it may have taken her a while to come to terms with her sexuality, she had now. The only other possible interpretation made his undead flesh crawl. He couldn't bear to think that when she left him, she went home and scrubbed her body, exfoliating to remove the taint of his unclean hands.

So, until he had some evidence to the contrary, he would assume she's okay with the sex. Then, the only evidence that he is still evil is the eggs... And he was dealing with that problem.

That left her whole 'serial killer in jail' theory.

Therein lies the tough one. Maybe if GI Joe hadn't shown up last night she could have grown gradually into feeling safe with him. She might have come to trust that it was coming to care about her and Dawn and the people they cared about that made him act differently. Not the chip.

Now, if he wanted her to agree to a fresh start for their relationship then he had to convince her at the outset that she wouldn't be put into the position of becoming close to him and then having to kill him when he changed. He knew that convincing her to try again was going to involve a fair amount of rationalisation. An emotional response to their present status was far too likely to lead to a repetition of the mistakes they had already made and was to be avoided... But if he was to make an appeal to her on a logical basis then this all too logical fear would have to be addressed first.

Her history of abandonment.

Like the last problem, he blamed this one to a large extent on Angel. All the key male figures in her life, except Harris and him, had walked out on her. Every man she'd ever loved. Every man she'd slept with up until him and, bloody hell, when you thought about it, the first two had more or less been one night stands. Was that part of her rejection that morning in the derelict house? Was she subconsciously trying to reject him before he rejected her? That almost made too much sense. There was only one thing that would really convince her he was different. Time.

He doesn't leave. He sorts out this mess with the contract, he sees about the chip and he goes home and he stays. As long as she's there or Dawn's there Sunnydale is home.

"Ever fallen in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?" The antiquated cassette deck continued to accompany Spike's vocals as he tapped out the beat on the steering wheel.

If he could take time back, so that he never fell in love with her, would he do it? Where would he be now if not for his feelings for her? A vampire who couldn't hunt. Following Dru, letting her hunt for him. That would have killed him. In the end it would have been worse than being in that sodding wheel chair. She wouldn't have respected him. It would have been doomed. It would have lasted a couple of months and she'd have been off with some demon or another.

"You disturb my natural emotions
You make me feel I'm dirt and I'm hurt
And if I cause a commotion
I'll only end up losing you and that's worse," the vampire belted out, wishing it was dark enough to wind down the car's blacked out windows.

"Ever fallen in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?"

Or he could have stayed in Sunnydale and been stuck living a totally isolated existence. If he hadn't fallen for her, then his contact with the Scoobies would be strictly when they were paying him. There would never have been any sort of connection. No Bit. He rubbed his cheek again. He didn't kid himself that they accepted him, but at least they all tolerated him, and, Dawn, she cared for him as he did for her.

"Ever fallen in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?"

Falling in love with Buffy had brought Spike the worst pain in his life and unlife put together. Losing her had been like losing a part of himself. Feeling that pain and seeing Dawn endure that pain meant made him doubt that he would ever willingly take an innocent life again. He'd never adhere to the Slayer's credo not to take human life under any circumstances. Take away the chip and he'd kill anyone or anything that tried to harm any of his girls. He just couldn't regard the human population as "Happy meals on legs" any longer.

"Ever fallen in love with someone," Spike asked himself for what seemed like the fiftieth time.
"Ever fallen in love in love with someone
Ever fallen in love in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?"

Yeah, if he'd never fallen in love with her then things would have been simpler. It would certainly have been less painful. Yet, even if she never loved him back, if he never knew what it was like to be in love with someone who loved him in return, he couldn't regret the course his life had taken because of his feelings for her.

"Fallen in love with
Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?" Spikes voice faded away to almost nothing on the final line.

By the time he arrived in LA he had a plan. He was William the Bloody. When he wanted something he went out and he got it and, if there were obstacles in his way, then he'd get over them around them or blow them to Kingdom Come if he had to. One by one, he'd eliminate all the reasons she can't - not doesn't, not doesn't want to - love him. Starting with this contract...

Spike had done the LA scene, but that had been fifteen years ago. Aside from a brief sojourn during his abortive attempt to regain the Gem of Amara, he hadn't been back since. He had two options. He could try to work out which of his old contacts either wouldn't object to or wouldn't know about his change in lifestyle and then hope that they'd be in the same place they were in fifteen years ago. Or, door number two, he could contact Angel in the hope that The Great Poof could and would put him on the right trail quicker than he'd get there on his own. Besides, even if he could eventually find someone to sort out a passport and the relevant documents on his own, he didn't know anyone who could do anything about the chip and, at the minute, Spike suspected that the culprit or culprits behind his current problems were human. If he needed to confront them being defenceless was not an option.

And, if they could get through the first meeting without one of them turning to dust, then it could be useful to have someone in LA to gift-wrap him for the journey when the time came.

Had Spike been convinced that he was the only one in danger, he would have probably avoided Angel and taken his chances with his old contacts. However, until he could confirm that the terms of the contract had been satisfied, he had to assume that Dawn, Buffy and Tara were still in danger. Spike drove to a hotel with underground parking that he remembered from the Amara trip and checked in, waiting for dusk to make his call.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless."

Spike was momentarily thrown by the Southern tinge to the voice at the other end of the line.

"Hello, precious, you must be a new addition to the family. Don't tell me the cheerleader got herself a part in "General Hospital" and left Peaches to be all broody without her?"

"C-Cordelia's on holiday. Angel's doing some weapons training. D-did you want to speak to him?"

"Well, want to? No, not in the strictest sense of the word. More kind of a have to thing. Is it okay to interrupt him or should I leave a message?"

"If it's important, I'm sure he won't mind... or maybe you could speak to Wesley or Gunn?"

"Wesley's a watcher, right?" Spike had never actually been around when Wesley was in Sunnydale, but he had heard the name mentioned in conversations over the last year or so.

"Uh-huh. Well he used to be."

"In that case see if Angel's available, will you, pet?" Maybe Angel's ex-watcher could help him, or maybe he'd just as soon put a stake through his heart. Granted, the same could probably be said for Angel, but at least against Angel, Spike had a chance of fighting back.

"Who should I say wants him?" asked Scarlett.

"Tell him it's Spike. Tell the great Ponce that it's important enough that I would still come and ask for his help even after how we parted company."

Spike could tell from the noise that the phone had been put down on a counter or desk whilst the girl went to speak to Angel. Spike fed a few more quarters into the phone-box as he waited. His foot tapped impatiently against the sidewalk. Hours seemed to pass before the receiver was lifted again.

"Spike." The tone was flat. Spike was willing to bet it was deliberately so. It was too much to expect that Angel would make things easy for him.

"Well, hi, there. I don't suppose Li'l Bit gave you a bell earlier did she?"

"Little Bit. Do you mean Dawn?"

"Yeah, Dawn, Niblet, Li'l Bit, all one and the same," Spike confirmed. "Much like Angel, Ponce, Poof, He Whose Hair Sticks Straight Up."

"She called."

"Yeah, well, what did she say?"

"She said that you were fool enough to get caught by Buffy's boyfriend and his commando friends," Angel replied, "That they put an experimental microchip in your head; that the pain it causes you when you attempt to cause any physical harm to a human is so extreme as to make you basically impotent—"

"Hey!"

"And that you split your time over the summer between babysitting her and patrolling with the Scoobies."

"Less of the impotent," Spike protested. "Bit wouldn't have said it like that anyway."

"No, for some strange reason she seems to be the only sane person on this planet who actually likes you but I can translate infatuated teenage girl."

Spike sighed, but somehow managed to refrain from asking why Angel had managed to screw up Buffy's life so completely then. After all, his departure had left the field clear for the better vamp. "Anyway," he asked, "did the Niblet manage to convince you that you don't want to stake me on sight?"

"No," his grand-sire answered, "but, once I called Xander and checked that it wasn't some script you were forcing her to read, she convinced me to wait at least until you opened your smart mouth."

"Why do I bother? Look, pick a bar or somewhere public and I'll meet you," Spike offered. "There are some things we have to talk through. Be nice if you came on your own, but, if you want, you can bring the little Mick. I quite liked him. He's got a pair on him, but I don't want to see hide nor hair of any watchers. And hurry up and think of somewhere before all my change runs out."

"Why don't you come down to the office? Fred seemed to mention something about you wanting a favour not the other way round."

"I'm not coming anywhere near a watcher, ex- or otherwise, that isn't Giles until we've got some stuff sorted out. And, yes, I need a favour, which is why you get to pick the location. Just pick somewhere. You can bloody well bill me for your precious time if you want but pick somewhere and fast. I'm on my last soddin' quarter."

Angel sighed and gave Spike directions to a small pseudo-Irish bar near the office, finishing just as the last of Spike's change ran out. Spike stayed in the phone-box where he was relatively inconspicuous until he saw Angel leave the building on his own. Then, he walked around the corner to where he'd parked his car and drove to the rendezvous, arriving in time to have a bottle of Old Bushmills and two glasses waiting in a quiet corner booth before Angel came in.

"Okay, Spike, what's the deal? I never thought you would show up on my doorstep again, much less have the gall to ask for help, but then I never thought you'd go from killing slayers to doing their job for them either."

"Believe me, if I was the only one affected I wouldn't be here now. What do you want, a shopping list or a story?"

"Both," answered Angel, "but start with the story."

"Okay," Spike agreed, "but before I start, I know you're probably not going to believe this, but I wanted to apologise for that business over the ring the other year. What I did was wrong, and, not only that, you were right about that bastard nicking off with the ring at the finish." Spike suddenly looked stricken. He realised that he didn't actually know whether the child-molesting, torture-loving vamp he had hired to force Angel to reveal the location of the ring was still in possession of said item. "You did get that back off the Mozart freak didn't you? I assume we'd have heard about him on the news otherwise."

"Yes, we did."

"Since you don't look like you've improved your tan, I'm assuming it's not available for loan or hire," Spike reasoned, "not that you'd trust the likes of me with it, anyway."

"No, I destroyed it."

Spike raised both eyebrows. "Your choice, I suppose. Personally speaking, I'd have kept it and had myself some fun, but back to the story I suppose... Did Dru ever tell you about how me and her had to skip town right quick when we left Prague?"

Spike explained how he'd ended up signing the magical contract and the events of yesterday and today. He stuck to the truth as far as he was able but he couldn't bring himself to give Angel the real reason Buffy had been at his crypt. If Buffy didn't want to tell her friends, she certainly wasn't going to want Angel to know. Not her First Love. So he told Angel that he'd picked up a few scratches when he was patrolling on his own and when Buffy came by to ask about the Doctor she had taped them up for him, and then she'd stayed for a couple of beers. It seemed reasonably plausible to him.

"So now I don't know if I'm supposed to have fulfilled my end of the contract. Suspiciously enough, that lawyer came all the way out here from Good Old Blighty, so it won't even be office hours until one in the morning, so I can't even ring them for another," he looked at his watch "...three hours."

"And if you haven't, what happens?"

Spike drained his glass before meeting Angel's gaze. "I lose the people I'm closest to. Bit, Tinkerbell, and the Slayer." Spike had deliberately put Buffy's name last on the list to try to put Angel off the scent regarding his feelings, but the elder vampire knew him too well.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" He sounded more stunned than angry, but still his eyes glowed gold for a fraction of a second.

Spike automatically went on the defensive and he'd always been quite fond of the line about the best defence is a good attack. "Yeah, so? You left her. Damn near broke her in two, and then the rebound guy turned out to be a wanker that got her into bed and then never even called before he moved on to the next first year that was too wet behind the ears to see through his game and so she ends up playing it safe with Captain Cardboard. I've got more life and I'm fuckin' dead and even he knows he'll never keep her, that she's too bloody scared to open up and get hurt the way you bloody hurt her again so he's off behind her back getting suck jobs off of some of the scabbiest lookin' undead whores you've ever seen because he wants to know how she felt when you and his High and Mighty Dracula got a piece." Spike finally frew breath. "But it all started with you leavin' her, so don't you act like you've got any right to take exception to how I feel about her. You gave up any rights you had when you moved to LA and left her behind."

It was Angel's turn to drink heavily, not raising his eyes from the glass he clasped in front of him as he posed his next question. "So how does she feel about you?"

Spike sighed. "I don't know what she thinks. One day you're beneath her. A few months later you feel like you're her best friend, that she'll tell you stuff she wouldn't even talk to Red about, but then she's with her mates at the Bronze and she won't even give you the time of day cause she doesn't want to be seen with you. And she could never have any feelings for you because you're an evil demon who'll never have anything good or clean or pure in them. I can't be in love with her 'cos I don't have a soul. I only think I am because I'm in love with the pain." Spike stopped, waiting for Angel to look him in the eye, waiting to make clear to him exactly what his abandonment had done to the woman he claimed to love. "See, every so often, she'll give me a real good hidin'. But then you're the only person she trusts to look after Joyce and Dawn, and she seems to want you on patrol with her and I mean none of the others have gone out at all since... until she turns round in front of the fuckin' tin soldier, of all people, and calls you incompetent. He's the one who spent weeks lookin' for me when I escaped and then didn't even recognise me when he bumped into me with Red and the bricklayer, but she says I'm incompetent." Spike inhaled deeply from a cigarette that Angel couldn't remember seeing him light. "Basically, the whole thing's about as screwed up as it can be. I can't be her friend any more than you could, but I'll never leave, not unless Dawn does. That night, I promised her I'd look after Dawn until the end of the earth. You know me. Once I say I'm going to do something, I don't quit. Oh, and, thanks to you, she's convinced that, if she ever even so much as liked me, then this chip would go haywire, I'd kill all her friends and she'd have to kill me or send me to hell or some such. Ta for that."

Spike ignored his glass, and polished off the remains of the bottle, waving it at the barmaid when it was empty to show that he wanted a refill.

Angel seized on the gap that Spike left in the conversation. "But none of that sounds like Buffy. It's all too mean."

"That's the thing, Angel Cake. It's a long time since she was your Buffy. Sweet, innocent, sixteen-year-old Buffy, she'd never say any of it. Twenty-year-old Buffy, bit less trusting a lot less open. Twenty-one-year-old, 'I died, I went to heaven, I thought I didn't have to be the one who has to save the world any more and then my so called friends pulled me out' Buffy. She's not so kind. She's hurting every second of every day, but she's just numb inside all at the same time. She'll lash out at whoever's around. I just reckon I can take more punishment than most of them."

Spike opened the second bottle, and refilled both their glasses to the top.

"Anyway, to get back to the subject in hand. How much do you trust your watcher? Is he still in touch with the council? Does he have any family working for them? How d'you think he'd feel about working for William the Bloody?"

"As far as I know the Council basically left him stranded over here when Faith went rogue and Buffy resigned. His father probably either still works for them or if he's retired he's probably still in touch with them, but then I don't think there's any love lost there either. As to working for you, I'm not sure any of us would want to, but to help Buffy out..."

"Right, well, in that case, we need to find out if Giles jnr., knows who the Council's lawyers are. If that doesn't tie in see if he knows who Quentin Travers uses. If his dad's got some clout with the Council it wouldn't hurt to see who he uses. Failing that we're going to have to wait till I can get over there and break into their offices. The whole English thing could be a red herring of course, or there's a slight possibility it could be a guy called Ethan Rayne, but I think he'd go more for Giles, but it's possible that he's decided that losing her again would be worse for Giles than any direct attack. There's even an outside chance it could be Dru, if Darla or someone set it up for her.

I've sent a message to Giles about all this, but if it is the Council and they've got me or Buffy or both under surveillance then I'll lay odds his phone is tapped and they may be interfering with his mail, so I arranged for him to pick up the parcel from the FedEx depot.

Right so what else for the watcher. I want to see if he can work out from the description what those eggs are. I want to know whether all that stuff Buff's ex was spouting about freezing the eggs was a pile of crap, or whether the lawyer was talking shit, and I'd like to know that before I ring them up to see about my end of the contract if possible, since I suspect it was the lawyer that was lying through his teeth and that's got to give me some leverage.

I need him to find out what he can about that type of contract, how they work. If they've decided I've broken faith, then will there be some sort of magical retribution imminent. If it works like that, what sort of magic, how does it work, is there any way to protect against it?

Other than that it might be an idea if someone who the Slayer will actually listen to tells her that I'm not the Doctor, so if he's not entirely fictional he's still on the loose.

I need a passport and I need paperwork for repatriating a cadaver, in this case me, and a nice comfy coffin. I'm fairly certain that Giles'll let me out at the other end.

"Surely if you're going freight you won't need the passport, and why not just any old packing crate without all the paperwork."

"You really don't keep up with the times do you? Since last September, anything going in an aircraft hold gets x-rayed. What do you think they're going to do when a skeleton shows up on their x-ray machine? Only thing is I've never had to do this before, so I've got no idea what paperwork is involved. As to the passport, I don't know whether I can trace this through from the English end. I may want to head out to Prague and start working from the other end, but once I get to Europe I should be okay if I get a car blacked out, I can use the ferries and drive.

The real biggie though is I want to find someone who can either take this chip out or deactivate it."

There was a significant pause in the conversation before Angel replied.

"Spike, I can't help but think that that wouldn't be a great idea. You seem to have got yourself some sort of life together. Why not quit while you're ahead?"

"Because I've only really got half a life. It's like no one really totally trusts me. I can see everything that I want, but I can't actually grasp any of it. I'm not saying that getting the chip out is gonna fix everything, but its part of it. Normally I wouldn't force the issue, but since I'm already out of town I may as well deal with as much as I can now rather than make a separate trip later. More importantly, apart from Dru everyone on that list of suspects is human. If I'm going to get to the bottom of this I have to be able to defend myself."

"Okay, that's understandable, but what if you end up back where you were two years ago?"

"Well, see, that's the incentive for you to help me, isn't it?

One way or another I'm going to find a way to get it done. If you help me then you can be waiting when I come out of the anaesthetic. If I've reverted to my former self, you'll be doing me a favour if you stake me. If that's the way it goes then someone's going to have to stop me and I'd rather it was you than the Slayer. If I need taking out, I want it done well away from Sunny D.

If I get it done somewhere else then you might never know whether I came out of it okay or not until it's too late. I've come so close to just trying to put enough electricity through my head to fry it more than once. The only thing that's stopped me is the thought it might get stuck in the "on" position."

"Spike, you're just not taking this seriously enough. Surely what you've got is worth keeping. How are you going to keep your word about looking after Dawn if you're psychotic or a heap of dust?"

"Honestly! Me being the one who lives inside my head, I think I'm qualified to say that it's not some sodding chunk of metal that's in charge of my actions. I doubt it's going to make a blind bit of difference. I admit that if I'd never had it, I probably wouldn't have got to where I am now, but being able to hit humans isn't going to affect how I feel about, Buffy or Dawn or even the others. I need them to trust me. That's what keeps me going with this white hat crap, not some computer gizmo. Besides I've been reading up on my Pavlovian theory since I got this. Even if they take this out, I'll probably still be conditioned against harming humans to a certain extent."

"Do you want to take that risk? Ever since you heard there was such a thing as a slayer you've been obsessed with killing them. Your entire reputation as a master vampire was founded on being the Slayer of Slayers. How can you take a chance when the first person you'd probably pursue could be the person you claim you're in love with?"

"Because, my dear Angel, I'm. Not. You.

If I wanted to kill Buffy, the chip isn't stopping me as it is. Something to do with her resurrection means that the chip doesn't recognise her as human anymore. Buffy and me have both known about it for a couple of months. For the sake of my lily-white hide we haven't told the others but there's probably been more than a dozen times since I found out that I could have taken her out if I wanted to.

I think we can assume that Buffy's safe, unless I give her reason to come after me, which, by the way, I have no intention of doing."

"Okay. I know a guy who can read auras or emotions or something like that. If he agrees that having the chip removed isn't likely to make you revert to what you were like before, then I'll put some feelers out."

"So, do you think your watcher'll have gone home for the night, or have we got a chance of checking up on those eggs before I ring the lawyers?"

"I don't know if Wes'll still be there, but even if he isn't we can try checking out this Internet site Cordy uses. There's a chance we might come up with something that way, and if we have to resort to the books it would probably take longer than we have to find anything. Assuming you want to ring them just after nine their time. Having said that the quickest way might be to ring Buffy and see if she knows."

Spike smacked his palm against his forehead in frustration. "Great! Why didn't I think of that? And why do I feel like I'd almost rather spend a week looking through books than have one five minute phone call with her right now?"

"Because you've been up for two days straight and trying to do five things at once, and because the last time you saw her she was helping the Boy Scout destroy your home?"

Since he hadn't told Angel that he and Buffy were together, there was no point mentioning she'd paid him a visit this morning to break things off.

"Come on. I'll give you a lift back to that hotel you're using as an office, and I can use the phone I've got in the car."

It crossed Angel's mind to ask if he had a phone in his car, why had he been going on about using his last quarter earlier, but since this was Spike he decided to leave the question unasked.

The first thing Spike did when he got into the car was to try Buffy's number. He was more than a little pleased to hear Dawn's voice at the other end of the line.

"Hello."

"Hi, pet. Just a friendly call from your favourite vamp, who happens to be trying to pump you for information."

"Okay, friendly vamp, what do you want to know."

"GI Joe and Buffy were looking for some demon eggs last night, you didn't happen to pick up what type of demon, did you?"

"Ehm, they did mention it. I think it began with an S. Willow's here I could try asking her, see if she remembers or I could leave a message for Buffy to ring you when she gets back."

"Try Red, see if she can remember." Spike could tell from the volume of the question over the phone that Dawn had just bawled up the stairs, rather than going to Willow's room. He was likewise aware of Willow's answer.

"I heard, Bit. I don't suppose she has any idea how you spell that? No, didn't think so and in case you're wondering I've made it as far as LA and I'll send you a message tomorrow, if I don't have to ring up with some stupid question I should probably already know the answer to. Night, love!"

Spike switched off the phone, and set the car in motion. "Apparently, if Willow's memory is to be trusted Riley said the eggs were from a demon that sounds like 'Soo-vol-tai'. Can't say as I've heard of them." He looked across at Angel to see whether he recognised the name.

Angel just shrugged. "We'll see what we can dig up back at the hotel."

As soon as they got back to the hotel Angel excused himself and disappeared upstairs. While he waited for him to return, Spike booted up the computer in Wesley's office. Computers weren't really his thing, but he knew enough to do what he wanted. The lower part of the building seemed to be deserted apart from him. He accessed the Internet program and checked the bookmarked sites. When he came across one marked, "Demons, demons, demons!" he figured he'd found what he was looking for. He quickly accessed the alphabetical listings and found an entry that matched the information he already had.

He was busy reading through the information on the screen when Angel returned carrying a baby and followed by a large green demon with red horns and eyes.

"Jesus, Angel, I thought I was going soft, but at least I'm not running a bleedin' nursery. Unless of course it isn't as human as it looks and you thought I needed a snack?"

"I'd cut the jokes about eating my son, that is if you still want my help."

Spike chuckled, "you know, I didn't think even you would be naive enough to believe some bint who tells you that you're so wonderful that your cold dead wrigglies are capable of giving life. It's a matter of common record that vampires can't father children, yet you would believe that you're the exception."

It took some time before Connor's parentage and humanity were established to Spike's satisfaction.

"So let me get this right. This kid is my great-uncle, my uncle and my nephew, depending how you look at it. And Darla actually came good in the end, but now she's dead again."

"Yeah, that covers it."

"The master would turn in his grave if he knew how our side of his little family turned out. Does Buffy know?"

Angel managed to look shame-faced. "Not yet. I kind of wanted to tell her in person, but it's all been kind of hectic, and I haven't had a chance to get up to Sunnydale yet."

"Well, judging by the size of that kid, if you haven't found time to get up there yet, I would just make the phone call. Now that I know, she'll hate me if I tell her and if she finds out that I knew and didn't tell her than she'll still hate me. Just ring her, or you could write her a letter and I'll take it back with me, if you want."

"Yeah, that might actually be a reasonable idea."

"Anyway, how about you introduce your big green friend. Poor bugger's been left hanging around for ages while we discuss our family tree."

"Right, Spike this is Lorne. Lorne meet Spike, also known as William the Bloody. He's the guy I mentioned earlier, the one who can read auras."

"Oh. Right. Read away then big guy." Spike figured he might as well get this over and done with as quickly as possible.

"I'm afraid, William, that it's not quite that straight forward. Normally, someone needs to sing before I can pick up on how they feel. It's only if someone is broadcasting some sort of over-powering emotion that I can pick up on it without the music. Now, you are broadcasting, but you're experiencing so many conflicting emotions, that I can't really pick out what's happening. If you sing I should be able to make some sort of sense out of it."

"You want me to sing? That's how half my problems started in the first place." Spike sighed and looked at his feet for a couple of seconds. "Does he have to hear?" He nodded in the direction of Angel.

"Hey, I wouldn't worry about being embarrassed singing in front of the big lug over there. He's murdered some of Mr Manilow's finest himself before now."

Spike smirked, "Barry Manilow? Well I suppose nothing could be as bad as that. Wait, I get to choose what I sing, don't I? But it's more the reading I'd rather was private. I mean I know he needs to know whether you think I'm going to go all Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, but I don't think he needs to know all my private thoughts."

"Yes, you can pick whatever you want, and I'm sure if you'd rather do this in private Angel won't mind."

Taking this as his cue, Angel decided that it seemed like an opportune moment to fix Connor some formula. After making his excuses, he departed for the kitchen.

"So, how much do I have to sing?"

"Normally, I'd say just a couple of verses, but with your present state, it may take a bit more."

"Okay, then." Spike paused whilst he tried to figure out a suitable piece to sing without any backing. None of his usual punk repertoire seemed appropriate, but after a few seconds a piece came to mind. He'd bought the CD after her performance at the Bronze. It wasn't so much for the music, though it was okay, mostly he'd bought it as a reminder of the second night they kissed, he didn't count the day they were engaged. The only other song that was coming to mind was "Wind Beneath My Wings" and no way was he turning into that big a poofter.

(2)"All the things I believed in
Just want to get it over with
Tears form behind my eyes but I do not cry
Countin' the days that pass me by."

Spike sang for a few minutes before he was unable to remember any more of the words. Whilst he was singing he'd avoided Lorne's gaze. He knew that it wouldn't stop Lorne from being able to read him, but at least he wouldn't have to watch the pity in the demon's eyes.

He looked over at Lorne. "Was that enough then?"

Lorne nodded. "I got as much as I needed. You are in one hell of a mess, aren't you?"

"You could say that." Spikes gaze travelled once more to the scuffed toes of his boots, embarrassed that someone else should know so much about his innermost feelings. He listened passively to the rest of what Lorne had to say.

"You're just full of love. You're totally devoted to the pair of them. That isn't so much a problem with the little one. She returns your feelings, so if you can make time for each other, then you should be able to sort that all out.

The slayer is a different matter. The love you feel for her is so bound up with the pain it causes you. It's going to be a hard task to try to separate the two. Most men would already have given up. They'd have let her drive them off. You though, you'll hang in there as long as there's the slightest bit of hope.

I get the impression you've already chosen the path you need to take. It won't be easy, and she may never return your feelings, but you have to take the high ground and stick to it. Giving in to her will only lead to a repetition of all the mistakes you've already made. You're right about not seeing her. If you keep trying to see her, she'll either end up pushing you away or leaning on you again without making any commitment and either way it's too painful a situation for you to maintain in the long term. It'll hurt to stay away from her but you have to give her time to figure out how she feels.

As to the rest, there's a lot of anger and resentment built up inside you over the last few months, but now that you're out of the situation that you were in, that should gradually dissipate. Be aware though, you can't keep bottling it up if she hurts you. You want a relationship with her. It won't work if you're making all the compromises. Your feelings have to be considered just as much as hers. If you're mad at her for taking advantage of you then let her know, just don't get physical and stick to telling her what's made you mad. Don't start name-calling.

You've also got a lot of anger towards the people responsible for the situation that you're in now, and you include yourself in that. There's no point beating yourself up over something that you did when you were a totally different person. You have to just deal with the consequences and put it behind you. Now, if anything were to make me tell Angel that chip needs left in, it would be the anger you feel toward those you perceive as harming the people you've chosen to protect. You would feel no remorse on your own account about killing anyone either to defend your people or to avenge them. However, it seems to have become almost second nature to you to try to avoid doing anything that your Slayer wouldn't approve of. It's almost like your idea of her has become your conscience. Trying to live up to her standards has brought you this far. I think it'll take you the rest of the way.

I know that you almost fell off the wagon a while back, and it was the chip that stopped you, but you know yourself that you weren't actually comfortable with what you were doing. Even to get as far as you got you had to talk yourself into it. It's very doubtful but still possible that you could have gone through with it. If you had gone through with it you know you would have regretted it later. The whole thing was a backlash to what she said, and you should have realised by now that what she said was probably more to do with saying whatever it took to push you away rather than anything else. If she really believed you were evil don't you think you'd be dead rather than undead?

If you get the chip out you're going to have to be a lot less impetuous. You're going to have to think things through rather than just react. You know that as soon as you slip and feed on someone you've lost any chance you have with her. You would never get to see her little sister again and if you lost them and their friends do you think you could be happy with the sort of life you used to have or do you think that for every person you might kill, you would be imagining, mothers, brothers, sisters and husbands all grieving like you did for her?

In all honesty though, there are plenty of humans who would be every bit as vengeful if their families were threatened and as to the feeding you have to think before you react. Try to go somewhere alone after an argument and calm down for a few hours rather than reacting without thinking things through. I'd also advise you before you do try to pick up the relationship again, that you sit down and explain to her how it's easier to act like a man when people treat you like one, and how difficult it is not to live down to people's expectations if they treat you like. Well, you know what she's been treating you like."

Spike's eyes travelled up from his boots to Lorne's face once more. Had he just given his approval?

"You're very afraid for your girls right now and guilty about getting them into this. The fear isn't necessarily a bad thing. It'll push you to do what has to be done. The guilt achieves nothing and you have to try not to dwell on it.

I don't have any special advice for you. It seems to me you pretty much worked out what you had to do before you got this far. Just keep working on it, and try not to give up hope."

"And the chip?"

"I think you need to take some time to think through the issues. You have to think about whether you could still hold it together if the people you care about were to reject you. You know that's a possible outcome if things go badly wrong between you and Buffy. You have to work out whether you're happier with the person you've become or whether they are the only reason you want to change. If you come to realise that you want the change for yourself I think you'll find it easier to avoid temptation. 'Living' your 'life' to please other people doesn't tend to work out very well, but if being what you think she would want you to be, makes you happier too, that's fine. You just have to be sure to remember that, if things go wrong between you and her. That way you're less likely to do something on the spur of the moment that you'll regret in the long run.

Once you get all that stuff clear in your head there's no reason not to get rid of it as far as I can see. Just try to remember your lady won't be too happy if you kill her ex, even if he did blow up your record collection."

"Thanks... I mean, I knew... but it helps to hear someone else say it."

"Sure thing, sweet cheeks. I'll go let Angel know it's safe to come out of the kitchen."

Spike went back to looking at the information on the computer screen.

He didn't know whether what he read there made him feel better or worse. He was going to have to come clean with Angel, too. Someone had tried to kill him, and (unless they really had quit the surveillance that night before they returned to his crypt) they hadn't been too concerned about the possibility of killing Buffy at the same time. He hoped that meant the contract was primarily a tool to set him up. It might mean whoever was pulling the strings in this little puppet theatre had no interest in invoking the penalty clause. Actually, it meant the contract was invalid.

The description on the screen compared a brood of suvolte hatchlings to a school of land-based piranha, capable of eating a human in less than a minute once the smell of blood drew them to a target, the main difference being piranhas don't eat the bones as well. If those things had hatched when he and Buffy had been asleep and unarmed, neither of them would have got away to tell the tale. As far as he was concerned that constituted a greater than twenty five percent risk of permanent injury.

Spike eliminated Dru from his list of suspects. She might have made it look like he was trading in demons so Buffy would find out and disown him, but if she wanted him dead, it would be at her hand. He also pretty much ruled out Ethan Rayne, he had no motive to eliminate Spike, in fact Spike didn't know of any reason Ethan would have heard of him. Buffy would perhaps visit his crypt on average two nights a week and an occasional daytime visit while Dawn was at school, normally only staying a couple of hours, before she ran off. So if someone had hoped to catch Buffy with the hatchlings attack, they must have known their chances would be fairly slim. If he died it would be impossible to invoke the penalty clause. So he had to be the primary target.

He printed off a hard copy of the information from the web-site, and went to find Angel.

"I don't think we have to worry about the default clause." Spike passed the relevant piece of the print out to Angel. "Sitting in a room unarmed and caught off guard when those things hatched seems to be over the acceptable level of risk to me. I'll ring the lawyers first thing, and make sure they're aware of the fact."

"So it looks like it was you they're after?"

"It would seem so, but there's something else I have to tell you. I lied before." Spike spoke softly as if a gentle tone could somehow lessen the effect of his words. "Buffy didn't just pop by that night. If GI Joe hadn't come busting in when he did, and the web-site was right about approximate hatching times, then the chances are that we would have both been asleep or otherwise pre-occupied when the demons hatched." Spike made no move to defend himself against the first blow. He reckoned he'd let Angel have one good punch for free. He couldn't give any logical justification for it, but emotionally he felt almost as if it were his due. Maybe it was because he thought the first blow would be a reflex reaction.

His assessment seemed to be about right. The punch had come out of nowhere, faster and harder than humanly possible, but almost as soon as it landed, Angel looked contrite.

"Sorry, you were right. I don't have the right to get upset about what she does any more."

When it became apparent that there would be no second blow, Spike tested the range of movement of his jaw. The thought crossed his mind that at least it wasn't the nose for once and then he continued. "The surveillance photo that the lawyer showed me was taken on a night she spent a couple of hours at my place. I think they knew there was a chance she would be there, and not in a position to defend herself."

Spike met Angel's eyes before he continued.

"I lied to you before, because I knew she wouldn't want you to know. She's doesn't want anyone to know. The first time we spent the night together, she told me the next morning that she'd stake me if I ever told anyone. If she didn't want anyone in Sunnydale to know you would be the last person she'd want to find out. You, or the farm boy, but it's a bit too late for him." Spike couldn't help but smile at the memory of Riley's face when he burst into the crypt.

"Anyway, the reason I'm telling you now, is so that if something happens to me before it's all sorted out you at least know as much as I do about what's happening. It's not like I've got bragging rights or anything. I'm more ashamed that I'm... I was seeing someone who's ashamed of me.

I need to be sure that there will be someone looking out for her if I'm not able to. It seems like I was the target this time, but until we know who's responsible and what their motives are it's difficult to be sure that her and Dawn are safe. As things stand, she broke off... whatever we had... this morning, so if I am the target she should be safe enough for now. I doubt she'll be coming visiting, and I'll make sure that if we meet it's only in public places.

Basically, if you're in touch with her, I'd appreciate if you pretend you don't know anything. Back home everybody thinks I've got some doomed obsession, so no one will be surprised that you know how I feel, but don't let on that you know it's not been totally one-sided.

No, that didn't come out right... Look, what I said before about her not opening up with Riley, well she never opened up with me either. She doesn't feel anything for me or she won't let herself feel anything for me..." Spike gave up trying to explain a situation that was too complicated to explain and that he wasn't entirely sure he understood anyway.

Anyway, I'm going to go now. If you need me or if you turn up any information this is my phone number. By the time I get back to my room and get something to eat it'll be time to phone England and then I can get some sleep."

"Spike, what you said before about the squaddie, does that mean he actually caught you..." Angel raised an eyebrow at Spike, "...when he bust in?"

"Not quite, that was Harris, but I don't think his brain will let him make the association with naked push-ups and invisible slayers. When Mission Impossible bust in we were asleep, but considering we were both naked I think he got the picture."

Angel gave a lopsided smile that was about the closest he could manage to a smirk. "Can't say that I find that thought too distressing."

An answering smile came to Spike's face. 'So I wasn't the only one that didn't like the boy,' thought Spike. "I'll probably see you tomorrow some time." He made his way to the door, raised the hand holding his cigarette in a gesture of goodbye and left without looking back.

Angel hadn't offered to let Spike stay at the hotel, and Spike would have refused if he had. He wouldn't have wanted to endanger Connor any further.

Spike's call to the lawyer's office was terse but effective. As he expected when confronted with information that proved their representative had been lying, they claimed merely to have been misinformed, but to have acted in good faith. They agreed that the contract was now void, but when Spike requested the contract be handed over to himself or his own legal representatives to prevent it being put to further use, they became far less co-operative. Nevertheless, when Spike mentioned the name of the prestigious London firm who would represent him they agreed to hand over the document. He requested that it be sent by courier to the hotel where he was staying, and then he arranged with the desk clerk for them to sign for it so he could pick it up at his convenience.

Spike slept fitfully throughout following day. His sleep was filled with dreams of Buffy in which she alternately beseeched him to tell her that he loved her and pummelled his face in an alley telling him she'd never be his girl. He felt far from refreshed when he gave up trying to sleep. It was too soon for him to be moving around in the open and even Passions failed to hold his attention. Pretty soon his restlessness had him reviewing options. Giles should have the parcel he sent by now, but it was unlikely that he'd have the phone charged up. Angel might or might not be up and about, but he'd rather wait till Angel phoned him. They had parted on more amicable terms last night than Spike had thought possible, and he didn't want to antagonise him with incessant phone calls.

He tried reading. He tried soaking in a hot bath, which was a rare luxury for him considering his normal abode. Basically he found he was unable to relax whilst there was so much to be done, but unable actually do anything from the confines of his hotel room. In the end he couldn't wait for dusk to head to the Hyperion. This had the net effect that he ended up fidgeting and chain-smoking in his car instead of his hotel room. When he finally could make his way from the car to the hotel he found the reception deserted.

He wandered briefly around the ground floor without seeing anyone.

"Hello! Shop!" he called relatively quietly as he made his way up the staircase to the next level, his vampiric senses alert for anything that would indicate the presence of anyone other than himself. He was fairly certain the kid would be here somewhere, which was why he hadn't been more vocal about his request for attention. Someone had to be baby-sitting. He became aware of movement behind one of the doors. He called again, more softly this time, but still loud enough to be heard by anyone inside the room.

"Hello?"

The door opened to reveal Lorne. "Hi there, William. There isn't anyone else here, well, except for Connor that is. The rest of them are all either out trying to hunt up what you wanted, or they've gone home for the night."

"So you landed the baby-sitting gig again. Doesn't anyone else take a turn? Have you heard whether they've had any luck with anything?"

"I think they're still following up on various leads, rather than having found anything."

"I don't suppose there would be anything I could do to help? I've been practically climbing the walls all day."

"I think Angel was concerned that you might not be particularly diplomatic if you got involved. He seemed to think patience wasn't your strong suit."

"Got a point, but surely there must be something I can do?"

"Well, you can keep an eye on your nephew there while I go fix his tea," and that was how Spike ended up helping look after a baby, whilst everyone else chased up the things he wanted. To a large extent that day set the pattern for the most of the week, by the Thursday night, however the ball was rolling on all the stuff he'd wanted to sort out whilst he was there.

Angel had the coffin stored in the back of the hotel and had made preliminary arrangements for the hire of a hearse to take it to the airport, although no date had yet been set for the flight. Someone had been found who could get a passport and the necessary documents (both ways), but it was going to be at least another week before they would be ready, since a British passport would have to be acquired to work from. They could have used an American passport, if Spike would have agreed, if he claimed to have married an American and taken American citizenship for example. Unfortunately this would have made him more noticeable when travelling around Europe. As it was when someone suggested the idea to him, he muttered something under his breath along the lines of he might live with a bunch of bloody colonials but it didn't mean he wanted to be one.

He had a preliminary appointment set up to see a recently turned vampire who was also a trained neurologist. The only snag being that they'd had to arrange for him to make the trip from New York. The appointment wasn't for another week and a half and if the doctor gave the go ahead for the chip's removal he would have to be put up and fed while he was in LA and all the necessary surgical equipment would have to be bought or hired.

Neither Wesley nor Giles had been able to ascertain if there was a link between the English law firm and the Council. They weren't the firm the Council used for everyday work, but that did not in itself prove anything one way or the other. Giles had managed to put together some of the other background information Spike had requested, but was unwilling to pass it on to him before they spoke face to face. Since Spike didn't expect to be able to act on it until he got to England, this didn't bother him too much.

Before he left, the hotel that evening, Spike passed an envelope to Angel.

"I wasn't sure if you had kept your old accounts open, so I started a new one using your old alias. There should be enough there to cover all your expenses and your time. If there's anything left over just call it my contribution to Bite-size's college fund. I could have waited till you drew up a bill, but ...life's too short."

Spike refused to mention the possibilities of not coming out of the operation, or not coming out the same or falling victim to another attempt on his life.

"See you in a week and a half, God willing."

Spike headed for the Strip. He had one night to party before he went home. At first he moved from bar to bar never having more than two drinks in any one place, studiously avoiding anywhere that had signs saying "Karaoke".

It was the music that drew him towards the small side street club.

(3)Why is the bedroom so cold? You've turned away on your side
Is my timing that flawed. Have our feelings run dry?

The melancholy strains were soothingly familiar, but the thought that his own 12" copy was now part of the debris scattered around what had been his home tended to negate the song's normally tranquil effect. The sign outside said that the club was hosting a Goth, Industrial and Eighties night.

Yet there's still this appeal that we've kept through our lives
Love, love will tear us apart again -

Spike hesitated, but then went in.

It was the first time since he'd broken up with Dru that he'd been to one of these things. Some of the music was okay but an entire evening of angst wasn't something he'd care to go through normally. Tonight it seemed like an appropriate soundtrack to his evening of drinking.

You cry out in your sleep ...all my failings expose
There's a taste in my mouth, as desperation takes hold
Just that something so good just can't function no more
When love, love will tear us apart again -

Without making any effort he found he blended into the crowd inside. When he'd last been to a Goth night almost everyone even the men had had long black hair, but this crowd sported tresses in many varying shades and styles. One girl wore her long predominately black hair in two high back-combed bunches, but the fringe and front side sections were dyed a magenta pink. Her boyfriend had his short spiky cut dyed black, but tipped with ultramarine blue. Another couple had full head colours, one poppy red, the other a deep violet. Black still dominated the room, both regarding hair colour and clothing, but now colourful flashes relieved the darkness. Fluorescent and metallic colours adorned all but the most conservative of outfits, and many of the brighter outfits glowed brilliantly under the club's UV lights.

Most of the men wore little if any make-up though a decade earlier he knew that male and female alike would both have worn heavy pale foundation, black eyeliner and most probably black lipstick.

Skin-tight T-shirts in rubber and mesh fabrics had largely replaced men's frilly shirts and frock coats. Many of the women still wore corsets cut to Victorian patterns but these were made from PVC, not satin, velvet or brocade and heavy skirts with crinolines or bustles seemed to have disappeared altogether.

So much was the same. So much was different.

He took a seat by the bar and ordered a beer. When the next track(4) started with a thunderous organ solo, he figured he was back on familiar territory. Then he realised that the dance-floor was filled with the "new-style" Goths and when the intro finished the music wasn't the mix of guitar and keyboards he expected, but completely electronic and far poppier than he expected. He was at a Goth night, but if he hadn't known better he might have thought it was a rave. Then he recognised the sample used in the song's chorus as Carmina Burana by Orff.

He decided that maybe it was time to re-assess the Goth scene. He settled back to enjoy a few beers while he watched and listened, taking in this new phenomenon. He'd found that the DJ was mixing in old familiar Goth tracks with these newer dancier tracks and eighties electronic music.

He'd been sitting at the bar for some time when he realised that the girl on the next stool over was matching him almost drink for drink. Since she didn't have his metabolism, she was starting to look a little the worse for wear. Once, it would have been a cue for him to move in on his prey, separating the straggler from the herd. Now he found himself going through the same initial motions for a very different reason.

"Are you alright, pet? You seem to be knockin' those bottles back a bit sharpish."

She looked over at him and he could tell that her make-up had been recently reapplied to repair the damage done by the tears that had left her eyes red and swollen.

"Not really."

"Want to talk about it?"

She nodded towards a couple dancing at the edge of the dance floor. "My ex. Except it's not even a week since we. since he dumped me. It's the first time I've been out and I have to meet him. He never wanted to come here when we were dating. I thought it'd be safe."

He gave the girl, her ex, and his latest conquest an assessing look. He suspected that when the girl at the bar was a bit less drunk, and hadn't been crying that she might be moderately pretty in a skinny sort of way. The other girl wore a corset that made her appear to have a full high bust and narrow waist, but he knew that without the corset her bust-line might drop anything between two and six inches and depending how tightly the corset was laced, it might be taking six inches off her waist. She was definitely the better looking of the two at the minute, but on a normal day in normal clothes he thought the girl at the bar might have the edge, just.

He knew he had the guy beat though. He was handsome enough in a boy-next-door way, but he had no edge. Spike had edge enough for the whole room.

"Wanna make him jealous?" Spike arched an eyebrow at her.

She visibly moved away from him. "No, I'm not really looking to get into anything right now."

Spike abandoned his trademark leer. "I'm not either. I'm pretty much in the same boat pet." He pulled out his wallet and showed her a picture of the three Summers women. "That's Buffy. She ditched me last week. That is if you can say you've been ditched when she wouldn't even tell her mates we were together in the first place. I came up here the same day she broke the news, so I can't say for sure that I've been replaced yet, but since she's got a bridesmaid gig this Saturday, I'd guess by the end of the reception I will have been.

I guess I just thought..."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply you were some sort of perv..."

"Well, you wouldn't be wrong if you did. How about we make this strictly business though? Say a few kisses, hands allowed but only above the clothes and apart from the bum not on any of the interesting bits. I'll help you put on a show for him tonight.

Tomorrow night, I'll pick you up after work. If you want to bring a girl friend with you, you can. I'll drive you down the coast to Sunnydale and put you up in a hotel by the beach. You come with me to the wedding. We put on a similar show for Buffy and her friends, and then you can spend whatever time is left at the beach with your mate, and I'll drive you both back to LA whenever you want on Sunday. If nothing else you get a weekend away... and the best part is I don't live in LA, so he isn't going to see me with anyone else. If you have to go somewhere alone and he turns out to be there, hey, I had to work that weekend. You can make it last as long or as short a time as you like if your friends'll cover for you, and at the end you get to ditch me."

The girl smiled at him. "I probably shouldn't, but okay." She pulled him toward the dance-floor.

Music nicked or just described in detail for this chapter were:

(1) Ever fallen in love by The Buzzcocks
(2) Goodbye to you by Michelle Branch
(3) Love will tear us apart by Joy Division
(4) Love never dies by Apoptygma Berzerk