The rest of the night passed in a blur for the Slayer and her vampire lover, as they set about trying to make right all the things that Faith had made wrong about Sunnydale. Spike still refused to talk about what had happened, but he fought like a mad person, and between the two of them they made short work of Faith’s minions at the mansion.

They emptied the place in a matter of minutes, dusting dozens of vamps, and leaving a few alive to flee, and carry the story of the recent shift of power to the rest of Sunnydale’s vampire population.

Then, they proceeded to take their slaying spree out into the streets of the town, eliminating as many vampires as they possibly could in a single night that would be infamous among Sunnydale’s vampires from then on. By the time they were finished, they had accomplished their purpose of effectively “taking back the town”, driving the vamps that remained back into hiding in the darkness and shadows.

By the time they got home early the next morning, just before the sunrise, the rest of the household had been asleep for hours already. Xander was asleep on the couch, but woke up when he heard the sound of the front door opening, and their hushed voices.

“Buffy,” he said sleepily, sitting up immediately in spite of his exhaustion, eager to know the details of the drama he had missed.

She sighed wearily. She was dirty, and tired, and wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a good night’s sleep in Spike’s arms. But the look on Xander’s face told her that he was not willing to wait. And she had to admit, in his place – she would not be either.

She looked at Spike apologetically; he looked every bit as weary as she felt. He gave her a tired smile and squeezed her hand in his as he said, “I’ll just head on up and take a shower, love. Think I’ll just turn in after that. Take your time.”

She nodded, returning his smile. “I won’t be long,” she assured him, sitting down on the couch in the spot Xander had just left open for her. “I’m all covered in vamp dust,” she remarked with a little grimace, staying on the edge of the couch, not wanting to dirty the furniture or Xander’s bedding.

Xander couldn’t have cared less. His eyes were still focused on the retreating form of the vampire on the stairs, headed toward Buffy’s bedroom. “So I take it Deadboy Junior’s not spending his nights in chains anymore,” he commented, his tone flat and even, and utterly non-confrontational.

Buffy looked up at him for a moment, startled, before realizing what he was talking about and relaxing a bit, hoping that her reaction had not been visible to her friend. Since his eyes were still focused on the now-empty stairs, she figured she was reasonably safe.

*Not *all* of his nights,* she thought, but kept that response to herself. Xander’s freak-out factor was probably already at its maximum for one night.

Aloud, she said simply, “Nope.” Her friend had already learned the truth about her and Spike. There was no sense in trying to hide it anymore.

“When did *that* happen?” he asked her, his voice still mild and non-accusing.

She was surprised at how well he seemed to be taking this, actually. She would have thought that he would have been a lot more upset about her new relationship with yet another vampire. He had never made any secret of his opinions regarding her decisions in the past.

Of course – she had not let him in on many of her decisions in the first place lately.

“It was all kind of – sudden,” she admitted softly, leaning back on the sofa in spite of her dusty clothes, realizing that this was going to be a lengthy conversation whether she wanted it or not. “I really wasn’t expecting it to happen…”

She tried to put into words so that he could understand how everything had come about between her and Spike. She told him how they had had that moment of connection when he confided in her -- at the point of a stake, but still requiring an element of trust, she thought with a shrug -- about what had happened to Drusilla.

She tried to make Xander understand how in the confusion and unfamiliarity that her world had become in her absence, Spike had been someone who could truly understand the pain of losing Angel, as he had been through a similar loss himself. She told him how she had been so alone, and so had Spike, and they had sought comfort in each other – comfort which had slowly but surely turned into more.

“Okay,” she admitted when he gave her a dubious look. “Maybe *not* so slowly – but definitely more.” Her eyes were wide and almost pleading as they met his. “I really care about him, Xander. And I know he’s a vampire, but he loves me. And he hasn’t hurt anyone since we’ve been together, except Faith, and she…”

“She doesn’t count,” Xander inserted, and she was surprised at his stealing the words from her mind, the words she had thought would be too shocking to actually use.

“No,” Buffy said in a dark voice. “She really doesn’t. But,” she looked back up at him, her voice and eyes softening as she went on, “he *won’t* hurt anyone, Xander. Not as long as he knows I don’t want him to.”

Xander was quiet for a moment, searching her eyes. “So he’ll ‘be good’, basically. Because he – he loves you.” He could not really deny that, after seeing for himself some of what Spike had suffered for Buffy’s sake. But there was still a question in his eyes as he added, “And that’s good enough for you.”

Her eyes were serious and thoughtful as she nodded slowly, “Maybe it shouldn’t be. But it is. And I really think that he can do it, Xander. He – he told me – about when he first became a vampire. He had to *learn* to be a killer, Xander. Angel – Angelus and Dru – they taught him.” She was quiet for a moment, allowing that to sink in. “And if that’s so – then he can learn to be good.”

Xander was genuinely thinking about it – she could see it in his dark, expressive eyes. They were troubled when he looked back up at her. “That’s not how Giles made it sound,” he began. “He said that vampires are…”

“Yeah, well – Giles doesn’t know everything.” There was no missing the bitter note in her voice as she cut him off. “I’m beginning to think there may be a lot of things he’s told me wrong about – whether he meant to or not.”

“What’s up with that, Buffy?” he asked her, her words reminding him of the tension he had witnessed between her and her Watcher in the clearing. “What did Giles do?”

“It’s a long story, Xander,” Buffy sighed heavily, leaning her head back and closing her eyes for a moment. “One that I don’t even know all the details of yet. But let’s just say that his judgment is not always the best. He used his magic in a way that he intended to help beat Faith – but it got people hurt. And he just -- *decided* -- to do it on his own, without asking the people it involved.”

She was quiet for a long, weighted moment before she finished, a hurt, lost sound in her voice. “I can’t trust him anymore.”

Her words were stunning to Xander, who could hardly imagine Giles in the light that Buffy’s words put him in. He had been like a father to all of them for so long, until last year when he had left. But Buffy seemed so sure of what she was saying.

She noticed the hurt, uncertain look on his face, and said softly, “He meant well, Xander. As hard as it is for me to see that, he did what he did to protect me. To protect *us*. He really did mean it for good.”

“So did Willow.”

His quiet words caught her off guard. It was exactly what she had said to Giles in the clearing, and she believed it, but she had not expected Xander to see it so clearly, so quickly. She nodded slowly. “Exactly.”

Xander turned his head to stare at the stairs again, lost in his own thoughts for a few moments. “This is really throwing me, Buffy,” he said at last. “I mean – I thought I knew – who were my friends, and who was the enemy. But now…” He shook his head. “I just don’t know what to think, Buffy. I don’t know *anything*…”

Her gentle hand on his knee stopped his halting words, and he looked up at her with a lost look in his wide brown eyes.

“*I’m* your friend,” she assured him gently, compassion in her eyes. She knew how hard this was for him, because she had been going through a lot of it too. She considered for a moment, and then added softly, “And so is Will. She really did mean well – mostly. She allowed her feelings to get in the way, and it made it easier for her to believe Angel – but I really think that when she let him go, she really thought he wanted to help me.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” she agreed. “It doesn’t. And she needs help.”

“In England,” Xander remembered what he had heard Buffy and Giles talking about in the clearing. “Giles is gonna take her there?”

“I hope so,” Buffy nodded. “I guess I’ll talk more with them about that in the morning. But I think it would be good. For both of them.” She was quiet for a moment before she said, “I need to go get Dawnie in L.A. Tomorrow, hopefully. I miss her.”

“Me, too,” Xander smiled in spite of himself at the thought of the little girl, on the edge of teen-hood, who had become like family to him during Buffy’s absence.

Buffy studied him pensively for a long moment, not missing the subtle change in his expression, the sadness and uncertainty. “Xander,” she said suddenly, thinking that she understood what was causing it. “You know you’re free to stay here as long as you like, right? I mean – you won’t *have* to anymore, now that Sunnydale’s gonna be safe again – and Spike will probably be staying here now – but…you have to know that you’re still welcome here, no matter what. Okay?”

He nodded with a little laugh that was an attempt to sound surprised, “Of course, Buffy! I know!” he assured her, but his relief was obvious in his eyes.

Buffy looked at him for a long moment before she spoke again, her voice quiet and serious. “I messed up. Really bad, last year. When I came back – I didn’t blame Will and Dawnie for being mad. I wouldn’t have blamed any of you if you’d hated me forever for leaving you all here to face Faith…”

Xander started to protest, shaking his head, but she held up a hand for silence and went on. “You still trusted me. You accepted me back, and forgave me, and trusted through all of this that I was making the right decisions – even when they probably didn’t make sense to you.”

Xander shrugged, a little self-conscious. “You were right, weren’t you?” he pointed out. “Everything turned out like you thought it would.”

“You had no way of knowing that, and no reason to believe in me after I let you all down like I did.” She paused. “But you did anyway. You’re a true friend, Xander. And that means the world to me. I – I just want you to know that.”

He smiled, her words warming his heart. “Thanks, Buff,” he whispered, a little choked up, looking away in slight embarrassment. He opened his mouth to go, to say more.

The words never left his mouth.

Before he could speak, they both heard a soft moan of fear coming from up the stairs. Both stood up, alarmed, and headed for the stairs, Xander a little bit ahead of her. Buffy caught his arm and pulled him around to face her, her eyes solemn and sad.

“No,” she said softly. “Everything’s okay, Xander.”

He stared at her, bewildered. “What if someone’s hurt? What if Willow’s…”

“I know exactly what it is,” Buffy interrupted him, stepping away from him a bit, clearly anxious to get upstairs. “I’ll handle it.”

Another soft cry came from up the stairs, and this time, from the base of the stairs where they stood, the voice was clearly recognizable as Spike’s. Xander began to understand, as Buffy gave him a sad little smile and hurried past him up the stairs.

When she entered her room through the partially open door, Spike was tossing in the bed, moaning feverishly, obviously caught up in one of his nightmares. She moved quickly to his side, shaking his shoulder gently, trying to rouse him.

“Spike…Spike, honey, wake up!” she urged him, running a hand through his disheveled blonde hair and shaking his shoulder again. “Wake up, you’re dreaming, honey…”

His eyes finally opened, and he stared up at her with an expression of pain and panic for a long moment, then suddenly turned his face away, an unexplained look of shame on his face. It took her a moment to realize that he was silently crying.

“Spike…it’s okay. Come here,” she whispered, pulling gently at him to get him up into her arms. “Come on, it’s *me*, Spike. It was just a dream. Come here, Baby.”

Not having any success with that method, she climbed carefully over him and sat on the other side of the bed, pulling him gently closer to her, trying to pull him up into a sitting position, and he finally responded, lowering his head on her lap, trembling hands clinging to her. She would have preferred that he actually look at her, but she could see that she was going to have to settle for the moment.

“Was it that same dream, Spike? About Faith?” she asked him softly, her fingers running a soothing, gentle path through his loose, damp curls.

He nodded soundlessly, without looking up at her, still unable to face her, but desperate for the comfort of her touch.

“She’s gone now, Spike,” she reminded him gently. “That dream is not reality for you. Not anymore. You’re with me now – not her. I’m here with you, and I’m always gonna be. Okay?”

He nodded again, unable to bring himself to tell her the truth, unable to shake the devastating images in his mind from the ever-changing, ever-the-same nightmare that haunted him.

How could he tell her that *both* Slayers had been in his dream? As usual, Faith had played the role of his tormentor, threatening and degrading him as she tortured him – telling him what a traitor he was, unfaithful to his first love, and thus undeserving of any other.

But Buffy had been there, too.

And this was not like the other dreams, where she had come to his rescue, comforting and reassuring him, delivering him from the evil menace of Faith. In this dream, she had not been kind or gentle or loving, not helped him at all. She had made no move to come to his rescue, but had simply stood by watching as Faith had hurt him.

Laughing.