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Spike’s body went perfectly still in Buffy’s arms, at the death knell that was the sound of the doorbell downstairs. He fought back a sick sensation of panic that rose up in his throat, fought back the desperate desire to beg her to let him back out of the plan.

But he *did* fight it back.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Buffy whispered to him reassuringly one last time, hugging him close to her for a few moments before releasing him and standing up, taking his hand and leading him toward the door.

Before they had reached it, it burst open, and Dawn rushed into the room.

“He’s here!” she hissed in a stage whisper. “Xander’s here!”

“I know.” Buffy’s voice was carefully calm. “We’re ready.”

Dawn studied her sister’s expression, and then Spike’s fearful but heartbreakingly brave face, for a long moment before saying a word. Then, she cast her sister a look of disgusted dismissal, as she stepped in close to Spike, holding his gaze intently as she spoke in a soft, firm voice.

“You *don’t* have to do this. You know that, right?”

Spike nodded silently, swallowing hard, and fighting back the tears that rose in his eyes at her words.

“If you want to back out of this – you can, Spike – nobody’s gonna stop you.” Another angry glare found its way to the Slayer as she spoke those words.

“It’s – it’s okay, Dawn,” Spike insisted quietly, and his voice was much firmer now than it had been downstairs. “I promise, love…it’s all right. I’ll – I’ll be fine.”

“See?” Buffy said in a tone of pointed satisfaction.

Dawn completely ignored her.

With a weary sigh, Buffy said, “I’m gonna go on down. You two come on down in a minute or two, so he won’t suspect anything. Then we’ll do it – just like we planned.”

“Just like *you* planned,” Dawn muttered her correction, once she was sure that her sister was out of earshot. She focused her full attention on Spike as she repeated with concern, “Spike – are you sure? You really don’t have to…”

“I’m sure,” he interrupted softly, looking down at the floor and swallowing hard. “I can do this – and – and it’ll be over in a few minutes, yeah? I’ll – I’ll be fine.”

Dawn did not seem convinced, but she knew that Spike had made up his mind to go through with it, no matter how terrified he was – just to please Buffy. She sighed, knowing that she was not going to be able to change his mind – or his intense, even unreasonable, loyalty to her sister.

“You can change your mind,” she reminded him in a tone of quiet resignation. “At any time. Any time you decide you don’t want to do this – just tell me, and I’ll talk to Buffy – okay?”

“Okay,” Spike nodded, his voice even softer now, and a bit uncertain. “But – I won’t be changing my mind, Dawn.”

“Okay,” she agreed, her hands raised in a backing-off gesture. “Just – if you do.”

He nodded again, accepting her words.

She took his hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, as she started toward the stairs. She paused in the doorway, her hand resting on the handle for a moment, a thoughtful frown on her face as she studied it.

“Even if you – you get up here,” she continued as an after thought. “And you decide *then* that you just can’t stand the thought of being alone with him at all – all you have to do is lock this door.” She demonstrated as she spoke, turning the lock and unturning it again. “He won’t be able to get in – and when he comes back down and says so – I’ll know you changed your mind, and I’ll tell Buffy – okay?”

Spike’s eyes widened slightly as the image of Xander coming through that bedroom door – into a room which would instantly become a claustrophobic trap with the addition of the boy’s stifling, terrifying presence – flooded his mind with fresh panic.

Suddenly, he was not all that sure that he might not take advantage of what Dawn was suggesting.

“Okay,” he agreed with a slightly more emphatic nod, his voice trembling slightly. “I – I’ll remember.”

Together, hand in hand, Dawn and Spike descended the stairs.

Both carefully avoided the gaze of the young carpenter who was standing in the foyer – Spike, out of sheer terror, unable even to lift his eyes to his face; Dawn, knowing that if she once met his eyes, he would certainly be able to see the burning hatred that had to be in her gaze now.

Dawn followed Spike’s lead, without releasing his hand, as he led her across the room to where Buffy was seated on the couch with Giles and Anya – giving Xander a wide berth as he did – and knelt on the floor beside the Slayer, his trembling hand resting on her knee, desperate for the slight reassurance that her nearness provided.

He could feel his terror mounting, his thoughts spinning out of control in panic, as he struggled to keep a rein on his emotions – just to *get through this*!

“What’s the matter, Baby?” Buffy asked him gently, reaching her hand down to gently run through his hair in a soothing caress – but he could hear the slightly false edge to her voice – the sound that reminded him that even this gesture, these words, were a part of her plan…and that whether by ignorance or by choice, the Slayer had no idea how truly terrified he was, how little of his trembling, fearful manner was an act.

He shook his head, lowering it to rest on his hand on her knee, choking back very real sobs – unable to bring himself to answer.

“Hey,” she pressed him gently, reaching down a hand to tilt his chin up, forcing him to raise his head to look at her. “It’s okay – what’s wrong, Spike?”

He kept his eyes averted – somehow unable to meet her gaze – as he waited for the plan to play out around him as Buffy had known that it would.

“Hey, Spike.” Xander’s voice was soft, cautiously non-confrontational, as he took a slow step toward the trembling vampire, one hand extended in front of him, as if Spike was a particularly skittish and dangerous dog. “Hey, Buddy – remember me?”

Xander met Buffy’s eyes in a hesitant question over Spike’s head, and after a moment’s feigned consideration, the Slayer bit her lip a bit anxiously, and nodded her assent.

“It’s just Xander,” she softly soothed the vampire, running her fingers through his hair. “Remember? From the other night, when you had that really bad nightmare? He told me about it – you weren’t scared of him then, were you?”

For a fraction of an instant, Spike’s eyes shot up to Buffy’s, panicked and pleading, before he suddenly changed his mind again and averted his gaze once more, shaking his head as he knew he was supposed to – according to the plan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Buffy’s cautious hand beckon Xander closer – and shuddered slightly at the very thought.

*Just a few minutes – it’ll be over quick – just gotta get through it – just a few minutes – over quick – oh, *please*, Buffy, don’t let him…*

“Hey, Spike,” Xander repeated in a soft, coaxing voice that still sent a shiver of terror through the vampire’s body. “It’s okay – I’m not gonna hurt you, Buddy – you know that. I’m your friend – remember?”

Spike did not miss the very subtle edge of warning to his voice – and this time, neither did the others, though none of them showed any sign of noticing it. As he spoke, Xander was edging steadily nearer, his hand still outstretched to touch him – and every nerve in Spike’s body was taut to its limit, every ounce of strength he had employed in simply not running – not – not yet – not until…

Xander was only a couple of feet away, when Spike felt the barely there, fractional tug of Buffy’s fingers in his hair – the signal that the time was right. Just before the boy’s hand actually came into contact with his shaking shoulder, Spike scrambled backward to his feet, knocking Dawn from her knees back onto her rear in the process – and bolted up the stairs.

He could hear various words and other sounds of dismay from the people in the living room as he dashed into Buffy’s bedroom and shut the door hard – knew how the scene was going to play out – what Buffy was going to say, mere moments from now.

*Maybe you were right before, Xander…he has to learn that some men are safe…go ahead on up, talk to him, see if you can calm him down like you did the other night…no, really, it’s okay, I think it’ll be good for him…*

Spike wasn’t really sure if he was remembering what Buffy had said she was going to tell Xander, or actually hearing the faint traces of the words as she spoke them downstairs – but it didn’t really matter.

Either way, he knew that within moments, Xander was going to be at the door to Buffy’s bedroom.

And then – he would be *in* Buffy’s bedroom.

With Spike.

*Alone*.

His panicked eyes darted to the lock in the center of the doorknob, the one Dawn had pointed out to him – the tiny piece of metal that would lock him in the room – and provide his way out.

*Any time you decide you don’t want to do this…*

At the first soft thud on the bottom stair – a footstep that would not have been audible to human ears – Spike felt something inside him break, as the panic began to swell up inside him, overriding his every rational thought, and driving him physically to his knees in front of the door, choking back violent sobs that shook his body, gasping for breath as the room seemed to close in on him.

A few more steps – and Xander would be there.

*You don’t have to do this…*

Spike felt his hand begin to cramp, and glanced up with half-aware surprise to see that it was clenched tightly around the doorknob – as three, four more soft footsteps were heard outside the door.

Spike’s trembling fingers sought purchase on the small circular lock in the center of the doorknob, his breath coming in short, rapid, panicked gasps now, as he tried to decide what to do.

*Buffy wants you to let him in – have to let him in – have to prove it was him or she’ll never really believe you – a part of her will always hate you, because she’ll never be sure…*

*Oh, God, what if she can’t stop him in time? What if he gets me back again? *What if he has the gun*?*

A slight, by now familiar creak on the landing as Xander finished his trek up the stairs – and Spike’s shaking hand had turned the lock, just before he collapsed into tears, his body shaking with terror, his arms wrapped around himself, his head bowed against his chest as he sobbed in helpless confusion and fear.

Spike flinched violently at the soft metallic sound of the doorknob, as Xander tried to open it – and then, silence, when he found it locked.

For a moment, time stood still as Spike waited…waited for him to say something, to try to convince him to open the door…to turn around and go back downstairs, to tell Buffy that he was locked out, so that Dawn could make this whole thing end…or to slam the door open with the violent force with which Spike had become so painfully familiar, to use his fists, his feet – his *gun* -- to bring the vampire back into submission to him.

“Spike?”

His breath caught in his throat at the sound of that deadly soft voice, and he felt his trembling increase, as he scrambled backward across the floor, until his back hit the side of Buffy’s bed.

“I know you’re in there.” There was a brief pause, and Spike could hear the cruel amusement in Xander’s voice, barely over a whisper, and certainly not audible to those downstairs.

“Hey – you wanna see a trick? Let’s see, let me think…how about…how fast can I kill everybody that you care about? I think I can do it in about – oh, ten seconds? Yeah, I think that’ll work. By the time you crawl out of that corner you’re hiding in and get downstairs – they’ll already all be dead – unless you get over here and open this door.”

“No,” Spike was not even aware he was going to speak until he heard the whimper torn from his throat. “Please…no…”

A soft, dangerous laugh on the other side of the door was his response – and after a moment, he heard the doorknob rattle slightly again as Xander tried it once more. “I haven’t got all night, Spike,” he warned him softly. “Open. The door. Or I go downstairs, and shoot them all. Dawn. Buffy. Giles. Even Anya, if you make me, Spike. And I guarantee it – they won’t recover like you did…”

As the boy spoke his cruel threats softly though the door, Spike found himself creeping slowly along the floor on his knees, toward the door – compelled by the horror of what he might do to Buffy and Dawn, as well as by long-ingrained habit. As Xander finished talking for the moment, Spike found himself back at the door, struggling to stifle the gasping sobs that filled his throat – his hand resting on the doorknob.

“Can you count to three, Spike?” Xander asked him in a mild, disarming voice of curiosity. “Have you learned that much yet?” He paused, before adding, “I can. And I’m going to. You know what happens when I get to three?”

Spike felt the jaws of the trap that this plan had turned out to be closing around him – with no escape in sight. His hand tightened on the doorknob, as his internal war raged on, trying to determine what he would do.

*If I let him in – he’s already so mad – he’s gonna kill me – he’s gonna hurt me…no, no…*no*…!*

“One…”

Spike’s heart leapt up into his throat, and he flinched, as a fresh wave of terror gripped him at the thought of his little surrogate family downstairs.

*Buffy – Dawn – can’t let him hurt them…can’t…*

“Two…”

*Oh God, he’s gonna kill me! No, can’t do it! Can’t make myself – let him in…no…*

He leaned heavily against the door, his head bowed against the smooth wood surface, tears of desperation and despair streaking his face as his shoulders shook with sobs.

*Can’t let him hurt them – if he kills me – can’t let him hurt them…*

“Thr…”

“Wait! Please, wait!” Spike gasped out, his fingers scrabbling on the doorknob as he fumbled for the lock – and finally found it.

“That’s a boy,” Xander encouraged him in a soft, approving voice that Spike knew could turn deadly and cruel in an instant – obviously pleased with the sound of the vampire’s attempts to open the door and obey his command. “I knew you wouldn’t let them down, Spike…”

The click of the lock sounded impossibly loud in the stillness of the room – stillness and safety that was about to be shattered – a moment before Xander’s hand gripped the knob, and pushed the door slowly open.

And Spike was once more on his knees before his abuser.

Xander smirked at him as he stepped into the room, closing the door firmly behind him. His hand hovered on the knob for a moment, glancing thoughtfully between Spike’s face, and the lock behind him.

“You know – that’s actually not a bad idea, Spike,” he spoke in a quietly mocking voice – as he turned the circle in the center of the knob – locking them in together. “Now,” he smirked as he turned toward the trembling, retreating vampire, staring up at him through wide, terrified eyes as he struggled on his knees to back away from the advancing young man.

“Where were we?”