Brave New World

Chapter 11
When they had first gotten into the car, Spike had given her a quick look with a finger raised to his lips to indicate for her to remain silent. She had obeyed without any objection, preferring to sit and sadly watch out the windows as they drove through the silent town. There were heaps of garbage everywhere, broken windows fronting empty shops, and steel doors with sliding peephole devices on the few that still were in business. When they passed houses, she sadly saw that many of them had steel shutters on the windows along with steel doors. **They're already living in cages,** she though to herself, **because I failed.** What dismayed her even more was that despite the obvious dangers, she still caught a glimpse of a few humans running about, hiding in the shadows. She was fairly certain that they were humans since there was no longer any need for the vampires to hide. Spike continued to drive until they were again on the outskirts, on the opposite side of town from where the Bronze was located. Buffy was surprised when Spike pulled up to a gate leading to a large estate. She was even more surprised when he reached into the glove box, pulled out a remote and opened the gate with it. Spike drove on to the estate grounds and up to the house there in.

The house was a huge sprawling ranch style affair with an attached four-car garage. There were seven bedrooms, a formal dining room, a breakfast nook in the kitchen, a living room, a den, a study with a library. In the basement there was a theater room, a game room, and an indoor pool. Spike had bought it for a song. Real estate in Sunnydale was a steal, if there was anyone interested in it. Spike had been the first client the agent had known in almost a year who wanted to *buy* property in Sunnydale. He had detailed only three requirements: 1) that it was isolated; 2) that it had an operational, state-of-the-art security system and 3) that all windows were to have the steel shutters installed that were now all the rage.

As he pulled up to the garage, Spike glanced over at Buffy, "Well luv, here we are. Home, sweet home." Buffy started to reply but he held up his hand again, shook his head to indicate for her to wait, and then used the remote to open the garage.

After parking inside the garage, Spike led Buffy to the door where he invited her into the house. It was the first time since becoming a vampire that she had experienced needing to be invited into a home. It was one more bitter reminder of what she had become. What she had lost. What had been taken from her.

The previous owners had left behind many of their larger furnishings. There were a number of packing boxes and crates everywhere. Spike had Buffy leave Mary and her bag in the large den, then led her further into the house to the master bedroom where he began opening a couple of the moving boxes.
Spike pulled out and handed Buffy a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, "Change into this then bring everything to the den." He grabbed a second set of clothes and left the room.n shn she returned to the den, she found that he had changed his clothes as well. He had spread out the clothing he had been wearing along with the items from her bag, and he was going over them with some type of hand held device. She handed him the dress she had just taken off and, after a brief inspection, he placed everything in a box, including Mary. Without a word, he then carried the box out to the garage.
When he returned, she looked at him quizzically. "Just taking a few precautions, luv," he said, "I wanted to make certain they didn't leave any bugs or other nasty surprises."

"And I thought 'I' was paranoid," Buffy commented.

"I've underestimated the Master once already," he said quickly. "I won't do it again. Especially, where that Willow is concerned. She's entirely too clever and devious for my liking."

"Your right. I didn't mean anything by that," she apologized. "It's just...," she shook her head, "I was stuck there for so long...I don't know... ." She let out a wry chuckle, "I should be dancing with joy right now, you know?"

Spike turned to look at her, "So why aren't you?"

Buffy bit her lip. She thought about telling him what the Master had told her, **Better tell him now,** she thought, **and get it out of the way. Otherwise, it will probably come out at the worst time.** But she was still too uncertain about everything to tell him yet. **Later,** she decided. Looking around the room, she decided to change the subject. "This sure wasn't the sort of place I was expecting to end up at tonight." Buffy wandered about the large den area, wondering what Spike had in all the large crates.
He watched Buffy gaze about the room, "Fancy it, Pet?" He decided not to pursue his previous question, as it was obviously a sore point with her.

"It's beautiful. I haven't lived in a real home for so long," she said wistfully, "and I was wondering what happened to the people who used to live here."

"I don't know, luv. I didn't ask the realtor."

"Your saying this place is yours because you *bought* it? It wasn't abandoned and...and you didn't just...just kill the family, and move in? Not that I'm objecting, but...Why? And why a place like this? And how? No offence, but you don't look like the GQ type vamp, and I'm thinking this seems a tad on the expensive side."

"Yes. Well, considering what I was planning on doing, I didn't want the type of place where I would be expected to go," Spike said. "If I had set up shop in a warehouse, or underground like most vamps, I would have run the risk of some nosy yahoo, coming along and stumbling across what I was going to be doing. Here, I don't have to worry. As for the cost, well my little trip to LA was not just to take down the vamp street gangs. There were a lot of upper crust wankers who didn't think I could touch them." He looked about and shrugged, "To the victor belongs the spoils."
"Why don't you go and take a look around. I need to order some equipment," he looked up at her, "and I think your going to need some other clothes..."

*****
Buffy had wandered around the house for about half an hour while Spike gave orders to someone on his cell phone. She had poked about in a half-hearted interest, but her mind continued to dwell on the bleach blond vampire and her reaction towards him. Soon, she found herself wandering back to the den where Spike sat on the couch by the fire, finishing up his calls.

"Hungry, luv?" Spike asked looking up from his notepad.

Buffy braced herself. She was hungry and had been wondering what she was going to do about it. "I'm not going to kill to feed, Spike. Killing humans may not matter to you," she paused, staring down at the ground as the memory of killing Merrick and the girl after she had first been turned resurfaced, "but it still does to me."

"Relax, pet. No need to get your knickers in a twist. I've got baggies in the fridge, so there's no need for you be fretting about huntin' humans. OK?"

The smile Buffy gave him was the first indication of any real happiness he had seen on her face. She suddenly seemed to brighten and glow. "Thank you," Buffy said with clear relief in her voice, "I...I don't know what to say." A sudden wry, chuckle burst forth from her. "Are you certain you're a vampire. 'Cause you are, to me, without a doubt, an-," she froze as she realized she was about to say 'angel sent from Heaven.' Quickly recovering, she continued, "...answer to my prayers."

Spike was not fooled. The expression on her face had not shifted. She was too good at wearing masks, but he had heard the change in her voice. "What is it, Buffy?" he asked softly. "It's been eating at you all night." He paused as he reflected on what had occurred, "Something happened with the Master before I got back, didn't it?"

Buffy nodded silently and began chewing on her lower lip. "He gave me orders to spy on you for him. Give him a call if you started making any plans against him."

Spike snickered, "Well now, that really shouldn't be a surprise to me seeing as there were a couple o' dozen of his boys down in LA trying to pull a Philby on *Me*. But it seems funny to me that he would think you, a supposed loony, would play the mole for him."

When he saw the blank look Buffy gave him he added, "Spy."

"Oh," Buffy nodded and looked down again.

**What else, girl?** Spike thought. **Come-on, show me I can trust you.**

It was tearing her up inside, the more she discovered about this strange vampire, the more she wanted to protect him from harm. But here she was about to deliver a punch in his gut and hoped he would not kill her...at least not yet. She had figured his anger at the Master and Willow stemmed from the loss of Drusilla's cure, a loss for which she now knew herself to be partly responsible. "Um, what I'm going to tell you...it's going to really piss you off...and uhm, if you want to kill me...you might want to remember I've already asked you to do that after we deal with the Master and Willow." She looked at the ground, took a deep breath, then looked straight into his face, "I'm responsible-for-releasing-Angelus and-getting-him-killed and-therefore-losing-Drusilla's cure-and-I'm-sorry-but-I-really didn't-know-that-last part-until-the-Master-told-me-today."

Spike again surprised her. He did not jump-up, he did not hit her, and he did not yell. Instead he pulled out a cigarette, and lit it up. Buffy waited for the explosion. Instead she heard Spike start to chuckle. When he saw the look that Buffy was giving him, he shook his head and waved at her to sit down. He stopped chuckling when instead of sitting on the couch she sat subserviently on the floor at his feet.

**He did a hell of a job beating her spirit down, and he didn't even know she had one,** Spike thought. Aloud, he said, "He's a right bloody bastard, no doubt about that. Pet, you have nothing to be saying sorry for. I knew the night it happened and I didn't blame you then. You were a Slayer, and you did what you thought you had to do. You had no clue that Dru needed Angelus. Hell if you did, you might have staked him yourself to prevent her from getting the cure, in w cas case then I might have cause to rip your head off. But you didn't. The Master, on the other hand had Angelus for two years, and, according to my sources, he knew of the cure two weeks after we made our agreement, and hed ted to me!" His voice seemed to get colder, angrier, "He let Dru *suffer* for a year, feeding us just enough tidbits of information in order to string us along, waiting for me to finish in LA because he didn't trust me. Didn't believe that, once Dru was well, I would FINISH HIS FUCKING JOB!" He jumped up and started pacing, trying to keep control, but now that he had finally startentinnting his rage, it seemed impossible to stop. His demon face emerged as Spike began to angrily mutter and growl about how every month he had asked what their research had uncovered, only to be told that it was 'showing great promise' and that the Master 'was positive Willow would have it soon.'

While Spike paced back and forth, Buffy was again trying to resolve her emotions. She was relieved to find he did not blame her and confused as to why it should matter so much to her. Watching and listening to him, she stood up and moved to stand in his path as he turned around. Spike stopped abruptly when he found Buffy right it front of him. With a sad look on her face, she reached out to stroke the ridges on his forehead. Spike's growling slowly eased and then stopped as he stared at her. Then she startled Spike by moving closer, sliding her arms around him and hugging him. She made no sound, she simply held him. Spike allowed himself to take comfort from the embrace, his human face once more emerging as he slowly placed his own arms about the girl and pulled her close. His rage, which had seemed ready to burst forth and drive him out into the streets in search of someone to slaughter, slowly seemed to evaporate. The few minutes of calm silence was disrupted by a sudden growling noise from Buffy's stomach.

Buffy ducked her head, embarrassed. "Uhm, you were saying something about food?"


Over the next four days, Spike had Buffy do nothing except feed and exercise. Spike refused to make any comment to her about what she was doing, right or wrong. He would simply watch her move through her practice routines and take notes. Although it had been six months, she still remembered most of her training. Merrick had taught her or had others teach her as many fighting techniques as possible: Aikido, Boxing, Fencing, Karate, Kenpo, Kickboxing, Kung fu, Judo, Jiu-jitsu the list went on. Spike watched with some interest at the mishmash of styles and techniques she displayed. It was not quite the normal Slayer textbook training. Spike wondered about why her Watcher had spent so much time with so many different styles. The two slayers he had killed had shown only a textbook style of fighting. Not this girl. But for all her knowledge of different styles, her skill had not been enough to defeat the Master. Spike had never seen the Master fight, but his age and reputation was enough to prove he had an impressive knowledge of fighting techniques. His age also gave him an increased strength and speed that Buffy would need to match. But six months on a restrictive diet had left a definite impression upon her.

Spike was certain that her strength would return with time and feeding. Whether they had the time was one thing that worried him. The Master was planning on having a 'Celebration Coronation' in LA in two and a half months. It was a party that would mark the third anniversary of his escape from the Hellmouth. It was a party that Spike intended to crash, and then burn everything to the ground.
Spike was also concerned about her reflexive speed. Precise and powerful techniques would not be enough in the coming showdown. She had to develop her abilities to be able to react with lightning speed and to respond with the proper defense to an attack. As a slayer, her speed and strength had been a match for most vampires due to her genetic make-up, but as a vampire, her demon should have given her the ability to surpass any and every vampire on the planet.

When some of the equipment Spike had ordered arrived, Buffy began weight training and gymnastics, and soon her strength began to show its return. Spike began working out with her and sparing with her. He quickly and easily took her down time after time. But each time she would get up and face him again. They would fight hand-to-hand and using swords, Bo sticks, staffs, daggers, etc... After two weeks, he was pleased when she was able to stand against him for between twenty and thirty minutes. However, she had yet to defeat him once, and this gave him a great deal of trepidation. He took to occasionally watching her when she slept. Buffy never knew when she would wake from a nightmare and find him there. Sometimes awake. Sometimes asleep. Sitting in the chair at the side of her bed.
It occurred to him that a part of the problem might be that Buffy's soul was keeping her demon in check. She did not take advantage of the additional speed and strength the demon could have given her because she would not release her control over her demon. Spike needed to break her down enough to get her to let her demon out a little, and beating her would not do it.

One night an idea occurred to him. It was a cruel idea and she would really be pissed at him. He made a phone call and began ordering what he would need. Two days later, Buffy awoke to the sound of an electric saw coming from the living room. When she out out of her room to investigate she was surprised to find Spike in the living room installing a doorframe in front of the wall alcove that housed the stereo equipment. When she inquired as to what he was doing he told her nothing except that her workout music would be on hold for a few hours and to go put on her 'weight suit' and begin jogging.
Buffy sighed and went off to change. She hated the 'weight suit'. It was bulky, and lined with lead pellets. A lot of lead pellets. The first time she had put it on, Spike had casually pushed her into the swimming pool. Undead though she was, y'sy's first reaction was to panic, attempt to swim and scrambled to avoid drowning. However, after a minute or two, she had realized the stupidity of what she was doing. She allowed herself to sink to the bottom of the pool where she let her eyes shift and discovered that her underwater sight improved while she wore heron fon face. Turning around, she found Spike waiting for her wearing nothing but his Speedo's, a pair of weighted boots and a grin. He held out a foil to her, and she spent the next half-hour fencing with him. While Spike hardly moved, Buffy was never able to touch him with her weapon, whereas Spike managed to score her several times, leaving nasty cuts on her arms, legs and three small holes near her heart. Buffy had wanted to grumble about the awkwardness of wearing the suit but instead, said nothing. Spike had gently treated her wounds, as he always did, meanwhile telling her that periodically she would perform her workouts whilst wearing the suit and that as she str stronger, more weight would be added.

As she completed her fifth hour of exercising in the hated suit, she heard the sound of the stereo system buzz to life. Suddenly, music began to pour forth from the wall speakers. Buffy raised her eyebrow at the type of 'music' playing and grinned. The stereo could be heard from hidden speakers wired though out the house. She expected it to be switched-off and to hear a colorful stream of curses about the lineage and heritage of a couple of so-called musicians and a graphic description of what Spike was going to do to them someday. Every so often Spike would lose his quiet calm exterior, and burst out with a very inventive string of curses. Buffy took it as a sign that he was becoming relaxed around her. When the music continued to play after several minutes, Buffy stopped her workout and moved up stairs to investigate why Spike hadn't changed the channel.

Walking into the living room she was surprised to find a steel door installed in front of where the stereo alcove had been. When she went to open it she found there was no handle, only a lock.

"Did you need something, Buffy?" Spike asked as he walked into the room. Buffy looked over at Spike. The tone off his voice set off little warning bells. He was up to something.

"Uh, yeah. I wanted to change the channel, this music isn't exactly that great to workout to. Fact is, it sucks. Big time. So can I, like, change the channel? And why is there a door here now, anyway?" she asked peevishly.

Spike smiled and pulled a long chain out of his pocket with a key at the end. Looking calmly at the key, he spoke, "Well, pet. It's like this. We're going to have a little competition, and the winner will get to decide what gets played. See? I've beaten you every time we've fought love. So I've decide to have this selection played."

Buffy stared at him in shock, "I thought you only listen to punk! You...You *like* this...this...this *crap*?"

Spike let out a sharp laugh and waved his hand, "Oh Gods no girl! No, no. I have no intention of listening to this."

Buffy let out a sigh of relief, "Good, you had me worried there that you might actually like this.
Then Spike pulled out a portable CD player with earplugs. "That's what I've got this for." Buffy's face fell. "No girl, *You* are going to listen to this."

"WHAT! WHY?!" she yelled out.

"Because," Spike said slowly and patiently explained as if to a child, "I won, so I choose what gets played. When you defeat me, you can take the key and change the CD. Until then, this gets played. Continuously."

Buffy stared with her mouth open.


Buffy lay in her bed. It was three in the afternoon. Sheuld uld have been asleep, but the accursed music was still playing through her speakers. She could have ripped them out of the walls, but she had agreed not to after Spike had threatened to chain her up at nights after she had punched out the first set of speakers. "The key is your objective," Spike had chided her, "not destroying my home."
So she lay there. Wide-awake. Agitated. Frustrated. Pissed.

It had been eight days since Spike had started this torture. She had shrugged it off initially, figuring he would drop it after a few days when he saw it was having no effect on her. But it was having an effect. By the third day she had taken back every nice thing she had ever thought about him. By the fourth day she was constantly swearing and cursing at him. Spike just smiled and went about listening to his own CD. That infuriated her, and she began losing her temper during their sparing sessions, which in turn allowed Spike to defeat her even more easily.

After wasting two days, Buffy realized that she wasn't getting anywhere, and started controlling her anger. Still, she knew she needed to get that damn key and soon. So on the seventh day she tried to sneak into his room to steal it.

He had been waiting for her.

With a Tazer gun.

It had taken her an hour to shake off the effects of that encounter.

So. Here she was. In the dark.

Exhausted and unable to sleep.

**This is ridiculous," she thought to herself. **Why can't I defeat him?**

**Because, your fighting me, Golden Girl,** said her demon

**S

**Shut-up,** Buffy snapped. **I don't need you. I can do this with out you. I did it before.**

**And look where that got you,** countered the demon.

**What do you want?,** Buffy asked exasperated and was instantly sorry that she did as hundreds of images flashed through her mind of death and misery and herself on a throne. **No! Stop it! God damn it, you know what I mean!**

An evil chuckle and then Buffy found herself standing in a circle of light in a large empty room. It seemed almost like a warehouse but she couldn't tell because the light didn't illuminate far beyond her circle. And that damned music was still playing.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Your dreaming, you idiot," came her voice from the shadows. "Am I going to have to spell everything out? 'Cause we don't have the time." Buffy watched as a figure that looked like her, except it wore a vampire's face. It was her Demon. It was also wearing an outfit that belonged to Willow. "Hey don't blame me for looking like this, it's your dream." The demon did a quick perusal of her outfit and gave Buffy a twisted smile, "The Bitch knows what she looks good in, but it ain't really us. Ya know? I think we'd look better in a leather mini and a little shear halter-top deal. Think you could whip that up for me instead?"

"That's it. I have finally gone insane," Buffy grumbled.

"No, but if you want I can help there. Sure, I didn't enjoy our time with Willow, but some of the things we did to get away from her were fun," the demon grinned at the memories.

"Great. My inner vamp is really a Ho," muttered Buffy darkly.

"'Sticks and stones, will break *Your* bones,'" the demon sang back at her. "Just because I don't suffer from your shame and guilt, there no need to resort to name calling. K?"

"Look, what is this about?" Buffy hissed.

"This is about me wanting you to quit dressing me up in Willow's clothes," the demon replied. "This is about you realizing that I'm not her. Lastly, this is about how I'm not going help you get us dusted."
"In the words of...," Buffy paused as she drew a blank, "somebody, 'What you talkin' 'bout, Willis?'"
The demon sighed, "I don't intend to die, Soul Girl. I've got too much I want to do, including a certain hunky, blonde vampire who, I know, gets you all hot and bothered."

"And your gonna stop me, how?" Buffy asked, ignoring the comment.

"By doing nothing, deary, nothing at all," said the demon, as she pulled out a nail file and began filing her nails. "Spike wants us to be a Slayer-Vamp to help him when he's kickin' some ass. If you can't defeat Spike, your are not going to be of any help to him against *our Sire*. At least, not in time for the ceremony. Unless I help.
"
"I don't need *you*," Buffy repeated.

"You just keep on saying that," the demon said with a smug grin. "Maybe if you keep repeating it, you'll convince yourself. Remember Merrick?"

"Of course I do. I killed him," Buffy replied bitterly.

"Correction, we killed him," if it was possible the demon's smirk grew wider. "It's just that I enjoyed it. But that wasn't the point. Remember your promise to him? 'I'll make them pay, Merrick. I swear it.' So what's more important to you? Your 'I-can-do-it-by-myself' pride or your promise?"

Buffy said nothing.

"Look, I'm gonna admit it," said the demon, "I got a kick out of your suffering when I first got here. 'Specially since I never got the chance to have any fun. But it got old real fast, ya know? I'm not a masochist and when Willow was hurting you, she was also hurting me. That and your constant whining and moaning about 'Why me?' and -" noticing Buffy's glare the demon chuckled.

"Anyway, for the most part, I like the way we've been living the last month, this Spike, he knows what's-the-what, see? And I've been thinking he might want some company after all this is done. You've done a real smooth job with the comforting shoulder crap. You're in a prime position to take over for his lost ladylove."

"Will you *please* get to the point?" Buffy said in exasperation.

"OK. Here's the deal: I help you with your abilities so you can take down Willow and our beloved Sire, and in return you keep us alive and, periodically, I get to have control of our body and have a little fun. You tell Spike, you're releasing him from his oath, and we'll take it from there."

Buffy shook her head, "I won't let you kill humans."

Demon-Buffy cocked her head, "Why not? You're gonna want to kill demons because they kill humans. What about humans who kill humans? What about child molesters? What about rapists? Think humans are better than demons? How about all of the wonderful ways humans have devised to 'love thy neighbor'? Holy wars, the inquisition, concentration camps, genocide, ethnic cleansings... It's a long fucking list."

"I don't care," Buffy backed away. She knew the minimal amount of sleep was having its toll on her mind, but everything was sounding so...reasonable. "You...You're trying to confuse me."

"Too late," said the demon sarcastically. "But, I'm willing to compromise," it said with a sigh. "We'll just leave the issue of killing people to another time. Maybe it would be best just to take these things on a case-by-case basis."

"No," Buffy insisted. "No killing people. No torturing people. No 'I'm gonna be Queen of the World' bullshit!"

Demon-Buffy stuck out its lower lip in a pout and said, "Spoil my fun." It quickly switched back to a smile, "Look I told you. I'm notlow.low. I'm a part of you. You *can't* do it without me."

Buffy spun about and put her hands over her ears. She was confused. She knew the demon was lying to her, she could sense it. Just like she could tell when Spike had made his offer, he had been honest with her. He had believed she could be the most powerful vampire and that had scared her. It had been strange hearing someone again say they believed in her, in what she could do. **He's wrong, of course. Just like Merrick was wrong and look were that got him.**

Merrick's face seemed to flash before her. Unexpectedly, she remembered something she had forgotten. She had made another promise to Merrick, before she had killed him. His voice seemed to drift back to her, "...promise me you will never give up... you must continue the fight...the world desperately needs your help...you've been given this chance to help her by a miracle of God. And miracles seem to be in short supply these days." Buffy felt as if she were suddenly hit by a bucket of ice water.
It was a simple but essential factor to any warrior who sought to do battle. And with all that she had gone through, she had forgotten it. No, it was more than that. Spike had said it to her, but she hadn't listened. She had ignored it. Blocked it. She failed because, deep inside, she did not believe she could succeed. **I never used to doubt myself before.**

Buffy dropped her hands from her ears, straightened up and turned to face the demon with her face.
It wasn't smiling anymore. It looked worried.

Buffy smiled. "So. I can't do *it* without you, eh?"

The demon looked even more worried. The demon started to back-up.

Buffy let her teeth show with a big smile before saying, "Where do you think your going?"


Spike arose around seven in the evening. He'd had no trouble sleeping as the speakers in his room were turned off. Turning on his portable CD player before he left the room, he strolled out to the kitchen expecting to find a brassed-off Buffy eating and glowering at him.

She wasn't there.

Spike sighed and went to get her out of bed. He was surprised to find she was not there. Curious, he ventured down to the game room in the basement and found her already hard at work moving through her routines.

"Evening, Luv. Sleep well?" he asked with a cocky grin. She did nothing but indicate that she was ready fight if he was. Spike nodded and removed his CD player and inserted a pair of earplugs. He stretched a little before taking a fighting stance opposite her.

Spike made the first attack with a roundhouse kick, followed by two swift back kicks. Buffy dodged and blocked them then returned to her ready stance. Spike attacked again, this time with a flurry of sharp hard punches that Buffy again managed to deflect or dodge. When Spike moved in close to grapple with her, she seemed to just slip out of his grasp and dance away. Spike snatched up a quarter-staff off of the ground and swung in an attack. Buffy dodged with a back flip then continued with two more flips until she was near the far wall where she grabbed another quarter-staff.

"Tricky, pet. But a little showy. Don't you think you should be saving that energy for the fight?"
Buffy said nothing. She held the staff in her right hand and rested it along her right arm and over her shoulder. Her left hand she stretched out toward Spike and curled her fingers to indicate for him to 'Bring it on'.

As Spike advanced he began spinning his staff. Buffy countered by setting her own staff in a spinning motion. Spike stopped in front of Buffy watching her intently, but she gave no indication as to what she was planning. Suddenly, Spike stopped spinning his staff as he swung it down towards Buffy's head. With a sharp *CRACK*, Buffy's staff moved to block Spike's. Spike began striking out with his staff at Buffy - high, low, low, left, left, right, low, low, low, high. Buffy moved to block each blow with her own staff. After about five minutes, Spike realized that Buffy had yet to make a single attack. He backed off towards the middle of the room.

"What's up, Luv? Not feeling quite up to it." **Where's that fire I saw before, Luv?** he thought. In an arrogant manner, he dropped his staff and stood with his hands on his hips. "Tell you what. I'll give you a chance. Hit me with your best shot."

Buffy smiled and began to advance. When she was about five feet from him, she suddenly planted her staff firmly on the ground and swung herself in the air, with her feet heading for Spike's head.
Spike had seen it coming. Thrl'rl's body signals had all but shouted out what she was going to do. He raised his arms to block her feet...which were not there anymore. Somehow the girl had managed to twist herself at the last second and move her feet to kick him in his unprotected chest. Hard.
Spike flew backwards for about fifteen feet before the wall stopped his flight. Stunned, Spike struggled to get up. A single thought, **What the fu-,** managed to cross his mind just before her fist connected with his face and scattered the rest.

Spike's demon tried to rise and defend itself, but the fight was already over. Three more blows and he was unconscious.

Buffy stood with a smile on her face. Then she bent over and removed the key from around his neck. Leaving Spike where he lay, she danced up the stairs, and skipped up to the steel door. Unlocking the door, she yanked it open and hit the 'Off' button on the CD player. She sighed with blissful relief as silence descended for the first time in eight days.

"MMMBop this, you little shitheads," Buffy snarled.

She punched the open button and the CD player ejected the shelf which held the hated disc. With a disgusted look on her face, she picked up the accursed CD and raised it up to look at it before snapping it in half. As she stared at the prismatic effect of the light across the back of the CD, however, she paused when she saw the box that it along with 9 other CD's had come in, sitting on top of the player. She flipped the box around to look at the titles, and began to smile again.

*****

Spike groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. He felt a cool hand gently stroking his cheek, and heard a soft voice talking to him. "Come on Spike. Wakey-wakey...That's it...easy now...don't move too fast." Cautiously opening his eyes, he saw Buffy hovering over him with a grin on her face. "Hi," she said.

"What happened," Spike asked as various points on his body began to inform him that he had been hurt.

"Uhm, I sort of kicked your ass," Buffy told him, trying to sound humble fai failing miserably.

Memory returned. "Finally got in touch with your inner vamp, eh pet? Knew you had it in ya. Damn, I'm good." He tried to sit up, struggled for a second then let out a groan and slumped back to the floor. "Maybe a little too good."

Buffy smiled at his words and decided not to debate what he had said. **Besides,** she thought, **it is true, in a way.** Her smile grew slightly as she ght ght she heard the faint sound of someone muttering **Bitch** inside her head.

She leaned forward, and gently placed a soft kiss on Spike's lips.

"Thank you," she murmured as she pulled back to look at his surprised face. "You've helped me find my faith in myself again."

"Sure thing, Luv. Anytime." Spike relaxed figuring he really didn't need to get up too soon, "Just give me a day or two."

"Here, this'll help you," Buffy said, holding a straw to his lips. Spike tasted the warm blood and slowly drank the whole bag as Buffy sat and watched him. When he finished, she took the bag and placed it in the wastebasket. She moved back to sit on the floor beside his head. Her hand returned to stroking the side of his cheek. Spike sighed and closed his eyes, concentrating on blotting out the pain as he drew comfort from her touch.

"Spike." she said finally.

"Yes, Buffy?" he asked, looking up at her.

"You remember your Oath to me?"

Spike felt himself grow suddenly cold. But he has agreed. **It's such a waste!** he wanted to scream.

"Yes, Buffy," he sighed closing his eyes in resignation.

"I'm releasing you from it..."

Spike eyes snapped open. She was looking at him with a very serious expression on her face.

"...in exchange for another."

Spike nodded, bracing for what she wanted now.

Buffy leaned close to stare directly into his eyes. "If I ever, *ever* lose my soul... if I start torturing and murdering people...if you ever see me turning into the type of vampire that...that...that Willow is...then you will do anything and everything to kill me, as soon as you possibly can. This is what I want you to promise me."

Spike felt as if a weight had been lifted. He felt an irrational surge of joy and tried to repress the sudden urge to smile. He raised his right hand to cup her cheek and told her, "That I can do. Without reservation." He moved his right hand to his mouth and bit into the palm. Buffy did the same and then they clasped their bleeding palms together.

Buffy spoke first, "I, Buffy Anne Summers, release William Darrow from his past Oath to me, in exchange for a new."

Spike responded with his vow, "I, William Darrow, vow to enforce this Oath: Should the vampire Buffy Anne Summers lose her soul and seek to harm humanity or achieve dominion over it, I will, faithfully and without hesitation, seek out and execute her. Even at the cost of my own existence."
Together they spoke, "Of my own free will and with my Blood, I accept the Binding of this Oath."
They were each reluctant to break the silence that fell between them after finishing their oath. Instead, they stayed there, for several minutes. Looking into each other's eyes. Not moving. Hands still clasped together. Buffy finally noticed when a drop of blood leaked out from their palms and dripped onto her leg.

"Whoops. Oh, yuck. Maybe I should have gotten a towel first?" she said rising up and moving to get a towel. While her back was to him, Spike raised his hand to look at his palm, then licked at the blood on it. He smiled at the taste of it.

"Here you go," Buffy said as she returned with a small towel for him to bind his bleeding hand. Spike moved to get up and managed to stand without falling down. Buffy moved to grab his arm, but he waved her off. By the time he made it upstairs to the couch he was feeling better except for the bruises. And the cracked sternum. And the fracture on the back of his head.

"Can I get you anything?" Buffy asked in a deceptively sweet tone of voice. "More blood, coffee, cocoa...?" She leaned forward eyes wide, fluttering her eyelids at him.

"Not a thing, Luv," he said, wondering what was up.

"I know exactly what you need," she suddenly said in an incredibly perky tone of voice. Spike tilted his head back, on the couch and closed his eyes.

"And what might that be," Spike asked.

Music began to suddenly play and Spike's head jerked up in recognition and he stared in horror just as Buffy closed and locked the door.

/So many nights I'd sit by my window/
/Waiting for someone to sing me his song/

"No way!" he shouted and tried to jump up, "No fuckin' way!" A wave of dizziness from moving too rapidly stopped him from getting up.

/So many dreams I kept deep inside me/
/Alone in the dark but now you've come along/

Buffy turned and looked at him with an innocent expression on her face. "But Spike, I won the fight. So I get to choose the music."

/And you light up my life/
/You give me hope to carry on/
/You light up my days and fill my nights with song/

"I thought you weren't into torturing people, Luv," he pleaded.

"That's correct-amundo," she said with that irritating perky voice. "No torturing people...people meaning human beings. You don't qualify. Besides you should be happy, I've decided to give you a little variety."

"What else?" he asked with dread.

"Well, besides this lovely tune from the '70's, we have from the '80's Diana Ross and Lionel Richey with 'Endless Love' and from the '90's Areosmith's 'I Don't Want to Miss a Thing'. Enjoy!" she smiled at him as she lifted her hand to display the earplugs she had lifted from his pockets before inserting them in her ears and bouncing off to the kitchen.

Slumping back in the couch, Spike let out a groan. He knew this would could back and hurt him somehow. **Fuck it. I can hold out. She did.**

He sat there as the music played on.

He really was in a lot of pain.

He was also feeling incredibly proud and happy. Even this hideous music couldn't squelch that.
At least for an hour or so.

*****