The drug the impostor had given Spike had finally worn off. He felt a bit better now that he didn't feel the craving for blood any longer, and it was a relief knowing that he couldn't do any more damage than he'd already done.

After he'd cleaned and bandaged Buffy's wounds on her arms, hands and face, he heaved himself up. He knew there were more cuts on her body; he'd seen them. But he thought it would be inappropriate if he tended to them. He and Buffy were only allies and he didn't want to overstep any boundaries. He also didn't want to do something as sick and twisted as lusting over an injured slayer. “All done.”

“Uhm,” Buffy began and started to lift her top. Spike watched, his mouth slightly parted, as she bared her toned stomach. She felt her cheeks burn under Spike's gaze as the blood rushed to her face. “There's more.” She chuckled humorlessly. “They hurt. A lot.” She pouted while she looked at the bruises and gashes on her torso.

“Right,” Spike choked out, raising his eyes back up to her face. “I knew that. I just thought...” An abashed smile of delight crept on his face when he realized she still trusted him, maybe even more than she did before. “Never mind,” he said quietly and knelt in front of her again.

He poured a few drops of the disinfectant on a cotton ball and began to clean her wounds. After he finished, he tugged her shirt down carefully and stood up. “I'll check if your room's ready.”

When Spike saw that the body was no longer on Buffy's bed, he went back to the bathroom and helped her to her room. “We'll be right downstairs,” he told her before closing her door behind him.

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, scanning her room. On top of her dresser were a tube of glossy pink lip gloss on top of a magazine, a comb on one end and few old books stacked haphazardly on the other end. A fringed leather purse hanging on the chair was not one of hers and the knickknacks on the other end of the desk were new too. She figured Willow moved in after she died, which was a good thing; Dawn shouldn't have been alone while she was gone.

She stood up and walked to her desk. A picture of them, the three Summers women, looking so happy together rested at the center of the table. She picked the picture frame up and frowned. She knew the happiness she felt then didn't compare to how she felt when she had been in heaven. She set the photograph down, walked back to her bed and sat back down. Looking around her room, she sighed and quietly said to herself, “Home sweet home.”

As Spike descended the stairs, he could already hear Xander saying, “She looks exactly like her. How are we supposed to know which is the real one?”

Before Willow or Dawn could answer Xander, Spike was already standing at the living room threshold. “You're here,” he said flatly.

“Nice seeing you, too, Spike,” Xander said, looking over his shoulder to glance at the vampire. He was sitting on a chair across from Willow, who was on the couch. Willow had told him everything that happened. “Where's Buffy?” He stood up, obviously antsy about seeing his friend again for the first time. He also wanted to see what they had told him for himself.

“She's resting. It would be best if we didn't bother her. She's been through a lot.” Spike's gaze shifted to the fake Buffy's body lying on the floor and the horror-stricken face that looked up at him before he'd sunk his fangs into her throat flashed before his eyes. He shot his head up when Xander spoke.

“I still can't believe she's really here and that there's two of them,” Xander said as he stared at the body on the floor. He glanced up at Willow then at Spike. “She is really here, right? I'm not just dreaming?”

All of them looked at Xander sympathetically and Spike nodded. They all knew what Xander must be going through, especially finding out about everything all at once.

“Has she talked about what happened?” Willow asked, her hands clasped between her thighs, worry painted on her face.

“Just that she was tortured, drugged,” Spike muttered, placing his hands on his waist. He didn't want to talk about what she went through. All he wanted to do was find the bitch that did this to her and get revenge.

Dawn had been standing by the impostor's body, wringing her hands. For some reason, she couldn't tear her eyes away from it no matter how much it scared her. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened when the body before her changed into a demon. She screamed and jumped back, pointing at the now maroon-colored creature with pointed ears and long fingernails.

Willow stared at the demon, stunned and relieved at the same time. She couldn’t be blamed for having doubts that the dead body had been the real Buffy.

Spike looked at Xander's horrified face and said, “Now we know who the real Buffy is.”

“I-is it alive?” Dawn asked. She was glad that she was finally looking at what the thing really was.

With her nose scrunched up in disgust, Willow nudged the leg of demon with her foot and answered, “I don't think so.”

Xander's mouth hung open, still staring at the demon. “What kind of demon is it?”

“It must be some kind of shape shifter,” Willow said.

Spike dropped his hands to his sides. “Right. While you find out what this thing is, I'm gonna go find the bitch and get some answers.”

“I'm coming with you,” Xander said and followed Spike into the hallway.

This broke Spike's stride, and he moved to face Xander, raising a hand to stop him. “No, you're not. You're only going to hold me back.”

Xander let out a snort. “Hold you back while you throw migraines at her? Willow said she's human. You can't hurt her.”

Spike scoffed, shaking his head and frowning. Though he knew the whelp was right, he didn't want to admit it.

“Xander's right, Spike,” Willow said. When she caught Spike casting a worried glance up the stairs, she added, “We'll be fine.”

Spike groaned and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Fine,” he said as he went out.

Xander and Spike walked down Revello Drive in silence for the most part. They never got along, probably never would, and when they did talk, it was really more arguing and teasing. Neither of them felt like arguing now.

Spike chose to break the silence when they drew near the cemetery. “Willow told you everything?”

Xander glanced at Spike out of the corner of his eye as they continued to walk. “Yeah. I don't know why she didn't tell me sooner.”

Spike wanted to tell him that he thought she was protecting herself, but they didn't need that right now. Instead he told him, “She has her reasons.”

Xander sighed and shrugged. “It was probably for the best, you know? I'm kind of glad I didn't get to see Buffy all evil,” he said honestly, facing Spike sideways. “Is that wrong?”

Spike shook his head. “No.” He paused. “I wish I hadn’t either.”

A beat. “But you didn't give up on her,” Xander stated factually.

“Don't think I ever could.”

“I know,” Xander said as he slapped him on the back.

Spike flinched when Xander hit one of his bruises. He glanced at Xander's hand on his shoulder and shot him a get-your-hand-off-me look. Xander cleared his throat and Spike said, “Let's never have this kind of talk again.”

Xander jerked his hand back as if he'd been stung and said with an uneasy chuckle, “You betcha.”

They both lapsed into silence again while they went farther into the cemetery as furtively as they could, knowing there could still be demons looking for them. They looked around alertly, seeing nothing but trees, tombstones and crypts. Sensing no immediate danger, they eased up.

“There,” Spike said, pointing at the crypt he'd been at earlier. They jogged over to it. Unlike when he'd first entered, the door was unlocked. The dry hinges of the door creaked as Spike pushed it open.

The candles lining the walls were still there. They approached the sarcophagus and Spike opened it. He quirked a brow when he saw nothing but marble and bones underneath.

“What is it?” Xander asked him.

Spike jumped into the coffin, said “It's empty,” and reached around the bottom for a trap door or something that would open to the staircase leading to the underground cave. There wasn't one. It was completely barren save for a skeleton.

“Are you sure it was here?”

Spike poked his head out and glowered at Xander.

Xander raised his hands in surrender and peeked at what was inside the marble coffin. “Well, there's nothing there any more except the bones of some dead guy,” he said.

Spike stood up, got out of the sarcophagus and scratched his chin with his thumb. “She must have covered her tracks when she found Buffy was gone.”

“Let's get out of here. This place is giving me the heebie-jeebies.” Xander shuddered.

They had barely stepped out of the crypt when they saw three demons standing outside, mischievous leers on their faces.

“Don't these pillocks ever piss off?” Spike closed his eyes and groaned.

“You take the two on the right,” Xander instructed and pointed at them. He and Spike charged at the demons as he said to himself, “I'll get pummeled by the other one.”

Spike defeated the two demons after much struggling. He was still a bit sore and tired, but he was able to kill them.

The third demon had cornered Xander who was now on his ass by the front steps of the crypt. Spike came after the demon, kicking it in the back and it fell face first on the ground. Spike snapped its neck, held out his hand out to Xander and pulled him to his feet.

“Thanks, man,” Xander said, brushing his pants off as much as he could.

Spike stood over the demons' bodies and glared at them. “I hope that's the last of 'em.”

In his gut, Xander felt they weren't. “We should get back.”