A/N: Something has gone drastically wrong with my evil computer, so till I get it fixed (and I have no idea when that will be) this might be my last chapter for a while. And it's kind of filler. Eek. Sorry.

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By the time Buffy reached ground level it was barely noon. Somehow, it felt like more time had passed. Like she’d aged a lifetime in an hour. The sun was bright and blazing, not a cloud in the sky as she trudged along keeping to the shadows and trying to get her hair to resemble something close to presentable. She got the feeling she looked tragically mussed, someone to feel sorry for but easily forgotten.

The soft material of Spike’s T-shirt glided against her breasts pleasantly, reminding her of his touch. Buffy wanted to be ashamed. In many ways, she was. He was Spike and a vampire and evil. She had only ever had sex twice and both times it had been with someone who was classified as “undead”. She wondered if it was her. If maybe she attracted them, in other ways than just a Slayer capacity. Or maybe it was she that was drawn to them. Either way, it had to be wrong. She’d spent many hours perusing through Giles’ Watcher’s Journals and never once had any of them mentioned a Slayer having relations with a vampire.

Of course, whether the Watcher’s would have recorded such matters was unknown. Perhaps they were selective with what they wrote. The need to have everything prim and proper and make sure their Slayer didn’t come off as ‘untoward’ was probably important to these people. Buffy had a hard time believing that if Giles found out about what she had done with Spike that he’d jot it down for all to see.

Not that he could ever find out. None of them could.

Buffy barely wanted to think about it herself. Yet, here she was, walking down the road wearing his T-shirt, aching from the way he had pounded into her. It wasn’t a bad ache but that wasn’t the point. She got the horrible feeling that the memory of Spike above her, inside her, wasn’t just going to fade away. She didn’t really understand why he hadn’t bitten her. He’d had the chance, she’d given him the chance, but he still hadn’t. That made two opportunities he’d had to kill her but hadn’t. Buffy didn’t know what was going on in Spike’s head, neither did she care to imagine, but it seemed to her like he should have taken advantage of her and gone for the kill. It seemed like a Spike thing to do.

Everything was such a mystery to her now. Nothing was the same as it had been.
She found herself in a world where she barely felt comfortably in her own skin, where her friends didn’t make time for her anymore, and where she fucked vampires who were evil through and through. It was like a nightmare, only worse. At least you got to wake up from nightmares. This was her life now, no taking it back, no waking up. Buffy had to deal with this, with the consequences of what she had just done and with whom.

“Buffy?”

Annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of her thinking session, she spun around, an irritated expression on her face. She came face to face with Xander, of all people. Xander who she hadn’t seen it what felt like weeks, possibly months. Xander whose hair had grown out longer than the last time she’d seen him.

She removed her sunglasses to get a better look at him. He seemed taller, somehow. Taller and broader, like he had been working out. His warm brown eyes lit up as they took her in, a slow smile curving his lips. Buffy thought he looked incredibly different. He hadn’t undergone a miraculous makeover or anything but when she thought back to the Xander she’d first met in high school and the kind of man he had grown into, it seemed almost unreal.

They stood only a few feet apart but the distance between them felt longer to her. A branch from a tree snapped in the breeze, the sound of birdsong up above them.

“Xander,” she replied, finally.

God, why was this hard? Why would talking to a friend be so hard? It didn’t make much sense to her, but still it felt strange. She shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with being in his presence. For his part Xander just looked like he didn’t know what to say. His hands were linked behind his back and he was rocking on the balls of his feet. Maybe he expected some kind of outpouring of emotion. If that was the case then he would be out of luck. Emotion wasn’t exactly one of her strong points anymore.

“It’s good to see you, Buff,” he took a small step closer “I mean, you look good. Sort of...glowy.”

Buffy almost snorted at that. If he knew how she obtained this so-called ‘glow’ she could just see his lips curling up with distaste, that usual self-righteous Xander face she had been on the wrong end of so many times. The Slayer had no idea why he thought he could judge people the way he did, but that wasn’t really relevant right now. He didn’t know about Spike and never would. She didn’t want to see that look directed at her again.

She didn’t graciously accept his compliment as she might once have. Instead she just looked at him; waiting for him to say whatever it was that was on his mind.

“That a new shirt? Kind of big on you,” he noted with a smile, pointing.

Buffy looked down at Spike’s T-shirt. She looked back up, blank-faced.

Xander cleared his throat, “So, are you coming over to Giles’ tonight?”

“No,” Buffy shook her head, “why would I?”

“Oh, I thought...well, you’ve seen the newspapers, right? The sudden increase in vamp activity?”

She swallowed hard, feeling something in the pit of her stomach roil. Buffy pulled a face of vague interest, urging him to continue.

Xander gave a half-shrug, “Giles thought we should gather the troops. Do a little research, a little recon. Like the old days, remember?”

“I...see,” she said softly, looking at her shoes.

“Could be we got a new big bad in town,” Xander continued, oblivious to the conflicting emotions bubbling within her.

Or an old one.

Buffy looked up to meet his eyes, “Maybe you should let me handle this.”

“Hey, the more the merrier, right?” he grinned, “We can make it a party. Stake a few vamps, a couple of bags of chips and movies for afterwards.”

She just looked at him, not really comprehending what he was saying. Her brain was too busy trying to think up reasons to get Giles and the gang away from this subject. If they found out Spike was back in town and went to hunt him down, the vampire might – no, scratch that – would let something slip about just how much the Slayer knew he was in town. That couldn’t be allowed to happen.

“We’d...we’d really like to see you, Buff.” Xander added earnestly.

Buffy lowered her eyes so she was looking over his shoulder instead of directly into his eyes. If she was honest with herself, if she let down her own defences to be honest with herself for just one moment, she would have admitted that it didn’t sound that bad to her. Xander’s proposal for slaying and playing. Deep down she missed her friends and she missed how things used to be, and she would have loved to have curled up on the couch with them after a hard night’s patrolling and watch crappy martial arts films.

I’d really like to see you too.

“I can’t.” she told him, “I have some things I need to take care of. Xander, tell Giles that I’ll handle the new vampires. Tell him that for me. I don’t want you guys to get hurt.”

He frowned, “Yeah, but –”

“Please. Just tell him.” Buffy started to back away. She put her sunglasses back on and watched him a moment longer before she turned and walked hurriedly away. She heard him call her name once before she disappeared around the corner.

+ + +

After she had showered and dressed again, Buffy paced the floor of her room trying to figure out what she should do. She had told Spike that if he left then she wouldn’t hurt him, but now Giles would expect her to come to him with some results on the recent cluster of victims. If the gang knew that Spike was back and that Buffy had kept it from them they would react badly. They would probably try and go after Spike themselves and that would end in nothing but their own deaths.

She sat on the edge of the bed and propped her elbows on her knees, staring at the wallpaper with disdain. She didn’t like her room, anymore. The stuffed animals, the butterflies taped to the walls, the little girly knickknacks just weren’t her anymore. Buffy briefly considered trashing it in a violent burst of hysteria. Her mother probably wouldn’t say anything. She’d lost her spine where it came to confronting her daughter. It was always best to humour her emotionally deficient daughter. It was out of the question, though. She didn’t have the time or the effort to launch herself into a destructive massacre of Mr. Gordo and his pals.

She reached over and plucked the soft pig from her bedcover, running her fingers lightly over his ears. Buffy had always treasured the little hog, ever since her father had won him for her at the carnival when she was six. Gordo was a little worn around the edges these days but he was still holding it together. He was a refined kind of pig.

She sighed and put the pig down. His beady black eyes continued to stare at her though. Buffy wondered if a vicious diatribe towards the animal would make herself feel better, but decided against it. She had to deal with this in a rational and adult way. There was no point in taking it out on a toy. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. The Slayer knew what needed to be done.

Buffy stood and left her room, walking down the stairs slowly, and seeing her mother curled up on the couch watching some soap opera. She stood in the doorway. Joyce turned to look at her, surprised.

“Buffy,” she smiled warmly, “want to watch this with me? I’ve got some hot cocoa with your name on it…”

Buffy shook her head, “No.”

“Oh, okay.” Joyce’s smile faded a little.

“But…thanks, mom. You know…for asking,” she shifted from foot to foot awkwardly.

Her mother nodded, “No problem. Of course, this just means there’s more for me.”

Buffy smiled briefly, “I’m going out.”

“Oh? Patrolling?”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful, Buffy.”

“I always am.”

She gave her mother one last look before she slipped on her shoes and jacket and left the house to go and find Spike.