Lissie:

 Pale hands smoothed the warm flesh, feeling the soft texture it exuded. The hands pulled back the golden hair
resting on a crimson cheek. Jumping at the warmth they felt, the hands fell back to their owner, resting intertwined.
A chilly wind swept through the slayer's hair, tossling her golden curls. They fell before her hazel eyes, and were
lightly pushed away by polished nails.Her eyes lashed open. Focusing on their destination, her eye's relected fury.
Moonlight softly bounced off her irises, and shimmered when shining on her smiling lips. Pink nails tapped a wooden stake,
removing it from her denim sleeve. The slayer twirled the stake in her nimble fingers, before aiming it directly in front
of her.The creature before her merely relfected a smile before turning in the darkness of the night. Taking off in a swift
 run, the slayer's feet padded on the dry grass, not yet soaked by morning's soft dew. Hopping over countless headstones,
she began to sense where she was being led. She has been there too many times, the route had become familiar to her.
Skipping around traps and bumps easily, she began to tire of this chase. Slowing down to a brisk walk, the slayer began
to concentrate her senses. The sight before her was dark and endless. Not going to do her any good. Closing her eyes tight,
 she focused everything she could on the environment around her. The air smelled of midnight. Horrible stenches masked by
 the darkness and mystery of nightime, danger looming over her head, beckoning her to come, fun wafting in and out the
tree branches, whispering tales of no consequences. The darkness always lied. The slayer knew that ever since she met her
 first vampire. She could tell that the smells of the nigttime were just as unforgiving as the sights. Sticking her
tongue out, she tasted the stale air, summoning the dawnto make it new again. Spreading her fingers, she let the cold
air wind in andout of her hands. Then she felt it. The soft fabric grazed against her side,as if not daring to get any
closer.
 The slayer burst her eyes open, but again she was greeted with darkness. But now she had it. She could sense
the creature all around her. Turning to her right, she sprinted through the graveyard. Catching her foot on a large tree
root, the slayer tripped and fell face first. Falling upon hard concrete, her eyes winced. She recognized this place as
 the masoleum Angel stayed in for so long. Feeling a pain in the back of her neck, she looked up at the thing she has been
 chasing all this time.
 "Caught you naughty Slayer. You've been tiptoe-ing through little Spikey'shead. Miss Edith does like that. Must
make Miss Edith happy."

Prebuffy:

 Buffy sat upright and stared at Drusilla with distaste. Even if she had been able to understand what the hell she
was babbling about, she didn't particulary care. But she had heard Spike's name mentioned, and wondered how Dru
had found out about them from wherever she was. Drusilla, on the other hand, was looking at Buffy as if she could
read her thoughts, staring intently at the woman who had taken over possession of her lover's every waking thoughts.
 "Miss Edith says you've been very mean to my Spike. Why, Slayer.....why have you been mean to poor little Spikey?"
 Dru crouched down in a half-fetal postition and looked directly into Buffy's eyes. Then she jumped back, surprised.
  "My, my Slayer.......You've caught the wrong monster. Are you afraid to look directly into the green eyes that haunt
you?" Buffy rolled her eyes in disgust and annoyance. She stood up and contemplated the dark-haired, wild-eyed
vampire in front of her. It still amazed her that someone so out of touch with reality could be such a danger to it.
 She sighed.
  "Okay, I'm actually going to bother to ask. What on earth are you talking about and why did you,
mistakenly, choose to talk to me about it?" Drusilla laughed, head thrown back, mouth agape. An eerie, shrill laugh,
 almost painful to listen to.
 "Ohhhhhhh.......Miss Edith wants to watch what happens now. It'll be jus' like before.War of the hearts. *hehe*
 Miss Edith will see to it that Spike is punished for being such a bad daddy." Then, without warning, Dru threw the
headless doll at Buffy and disappeared into thin air. Buffy caught the doll disdainfully between two fingers.
 "Great. Dru's back and she left me a present. She's like a psycho elf that works at the Crazy
Pole. Next Christmas, maybe I'll get lucky and she'll leave me a teddy bear with no arms." She threw the doll to the
side and began to walk home.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 Spike perused the landscape of the graveyard with a small amount of apprehension. He dismissed it as his usual
excitement to catch Buffy after her patrolling, and hopefully lure her into his crypt for a wall-banging, clothes-ripping,
vase-breaking, earth-shattering romp in the hay, so to speak. He could smell her, close by, but not in the immediate
vicinity. Then, he caught a whiff of something so familiar, so long ago, that he could vaguely remeber what it was.
Then it hit him and he turned his face to it's demon form.
  "Drusilla. Why don't you show yourself, luv, so we can hash out whatever it is you came here for." Dru appeared
from a shadow, smiling, spinning,and waving her hands around like a belly-dancer.
  "Hello Spike. Did you miss me?" She ran up to him and stopped inches from his face. "Miss Edith says there's
trouble on the Hellmouth. Are you causing trouble, my love? Miss Edith says Daddy loves trouble." Spike pushed her away
from him and replied,
 "Miss Edith always sees trouble, Dru. She's a voodoo doll. I want to know why you're here." He allowed his face
to return to its fabulous human form. He regarded Dru with exasperation. He knew he would never get anything but a
cryptic mangled answer from his former lover. After all, she was completely insane. True to form, she answered in
rhymes and rhythm.
 "Spikey's got an itch, for a lit'l blond bitch. But he always wears a frown, when she turns him down." Spike
briefly considered asking her how she knew about him and Buffy. But, then again, Dru was a seer. She may not be sane,
but she does know what goes on in the underecurrent of humanity. Another of life's cruel jokes. Driven-crazed-by-a-demon
 Demon knows Humanity better than it knows itself. Good thing he had come to understand her "crazy talk". If you
listen carefully, it really does make sense. So, he took what she said at face value and said,
 "So, what's your bloody point?" Dru smiled and circled him like a vulture. When she turned to look at him, face
to face, she stuck her tongue out and touched the tip of his nose.
  "She'll never love you. Not like I loved you. But she'll hurt you worse than ever...." She kissed him briefly,
then ran off, screaming obscenities amidst maniacal giggling. He turned to run after her. There was no way she could
be up to any good. But before he could start after her, he glimpsed baby-blond curls and a purple suede jacket.
He smiled. Who cares why Dru was here? Who cares what she wants? It's nothing he and the Slayer couldn't handle...
...together.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 Willow tiptoed around the deathly silent Summers house. Everyone was asleep, as was customary for this time
of night. But she liked to be awake and ready to chat whenever Buffy returned from patrolling. She had been missing
her as of late, and she was anxious for a chance to have some best-friend time with Buffy. Things seemed strained
between them since Willow had Lazurus-ed her friend from everlasting peace and harmony. She couldn't discern between
everythings-ok-Buffy and I-need-help-Buffy.She couldn't even tell when Buffy changed from happy to sad. She wasn't even
sure if she did, or could, change emotions.
 But she had been coming back from patrolling flushed and light on her feet and Will wanted to know why.
So she put on a pot of chamomile tea and lit some candles so as not to disturb the sleeping residents of Summers Manor.
She was just about to take two teacups out of the cabinet when there was a knock on the door. Wondering who was traversing
the dangerous streets of Sunnydale without a bodyguard, she grabbed an axe from the chest, and went to answer the door.
Peeking out from behind a half-cracked door, she found that whomever had been there was there no longer. Then she spotted
a crumpled figure at the doorjamb. Stooping to retrieve it, she looked around cautiously to make sure it wasn't a trap.
She slammed the door shut and replaced the axe before evaluating the item she carried. It was a Victorian china doll,
dressed in chantilly lace and a satin skirt. It was missing its head.
 "Strange......," Willow said out loud. Shelaid the doll on the table beside the teacups and waited for the
return of her friend.

Mazzy:

 The night air grew colder and it sending chills up and down the Slayer’s smooth spine.  But perhaps it was just
her vamp sense tingling?  Or more specifically-- her Spike-sense tingling.  She stopped her quick pace, rolled her eyes
and turned her head to face the inevitable but he wasn’t behind her.  She had been contemplating Dru’s return and the
possible reason for her nonsense  while   finishing up the evening’s patrol, she hadn’t even realized that she had
absent-mindedly wound up outside Spike’s crypt.  Buffy stared at the door, contemplating her next move.  Should she
enter?  Was Drusilla in there talking with or… with him?  Or was he alone, just waiting for her on the other side as
usual? Buffy sighed, breathed in the cool air and looked down at her new Fossil watch.  She pressed the indiglo button
so she could clearly see the time through the graveyard’s black curtain.  It was already quite late.  4 nights this week
she had entered that door, blaming her 3 am homecomings on demon battling.  She hated deceiving Dawn and Willow and keeping her nasty secret from them, but there was also something about the danger and excitement that got her adrenalin pumping. She rubbed her hands together decisively then turned to continue on the path home, when the door opened. As if he knew she had been there the whole time, Spike stood expecting her imminent approach.
  How was it possible that he could look any more tempting at this moment than he had ever looked before?  It’s not like his wardrobe was bursting with clothing, but the way he leaned in that entranceway--the halfway undone black, button shirt revealing the well-muscled torso that lie beneath it, the platinum hair standing stiff and straight on his head-it was an irresistible sight.  The suckling of his cheeks deepened the well-defined bone structure of his visage, and she found herself taking steps toward him.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 The old,abandoned box car that lay half-buried in the ground beneath the bridge of a deserted highway, just on
the outskirts of town was surprisingly well-decorated, considering it was a piece of junk.  Pink and frills were
everywhere, and in the corner of the car sat a porcelain doll on top of an oversized ivory unicorn.  Nearby, a shadowbox
was filled with crystal and bronze miniature unicorns, and a longhaired blonde hummed a Carpenters’ tune as she arranged
and re-arranged the tchotchkes.  Suddenly a lilting sort of humming filled the air and harmonically joined the "Top of
the World" tune being sung by the unicorn-loving vamp.  Harmony spun around and saw that her "roomie", the dark-haired
she-devil known as Drusilla, had returned from her evening’s adventures.
 "You’re back!" she squealed with delight.  "So let’s get in our jammies and you can tell me all about it?  Did you
kill her?  Did you see my Blondie Bea… I mean Spike?"  Drusilla smiled deliriously as she waved her hand at the other
vamp, then she elegantly laid her body down on the pink velvet comforter of Harmony’s 4-post bed.
 "Jack and Jill went up the hill to catch a pail of water.  Jack went down and Jill did frown, and the girls
lived happily ever after."  She suddenly broke into a giggle fit as she tossed and turned herlong, lean body on the bed,
wrapping the comforter completely around her.  Harmony knelt beside the bed, attempting to mimic her amusement and
convincing herself that she actually understood Drusilla’s cryptic message.

Alantie:

 The dark shadows of two naked bodies danced on the cold rough crypt walls in the candle light. Hundreds of tiny
golden tongues in each of their smooth wax pillars standing silently around the lovers. The two figures fall onto a
splendid bed, adorned but simple in the grey surroundings. Panting breaths, moans of the man, mewls of the female are
all that break the silent death of the graveyard landscape. Finally the two glistening bodies grow still and noisless,
but remained intertwined and tangled in each other's embraces. His face rests on her chest, rising and falling under his
cool chisled cheek. Her nimble fingers absently but affectionatly curl through his fine blonde hair, falling to his ears
and caressing, and then starting at the top of his forehead again. Buffy's voice, roughened by the rapidity of their love,
breaks through the thick darkness.
 "Spike...I saw...I mean, did you see anybody in the cemetery tonight other than me?" He raised his head slightly, and
planted a kiss on her smooth chest, lips parted to taste her firey skin before replying.
 "Why, love?" his accent rumbled, as he looked up into her eyes.
 "Because I saw...well, I think I saw...No, I KNOW I saw...brace yourself-"
 "-Drusilla." he finished for her, watching her plush lips twitch with astonishment that he knew. "Yeah, I spoke with
her actually. Insane little dame, isn't she? Did you talk to her?" Buffy nodded, still looking at Spike's face as he
sat up and leaned against the white pillows next to her.
 "What did she say to you?" Buffy whispered, still staring.
 "Nothing important. Just mangled, cryptic talk, her bloody specialty." He said causally, waving a lean muscular hand
in the air before putting it back down on his chest.
 "Anything about you and me...and this?" she asked meekly, indicating the bed and lack of space between their naked
bodies. Now it was his turn to stare at her.
 "Yeah..." his voice drawed out, as if asking her where she was going with the conversation.
 "And you still wanted to do....this?" she swallowed, as this time her eyes indicated by roving over his lounging form,
 the sheet-covered curves of his muscles. Spike pulled his head back suddenly, staring at her, his mouth gaping. He sat up
again, this time moving closer to her, one cool arm going across her waist, and holding her to him, still looking into her
huge hazel eyes blinking timidly at him.
 "Of COURSE, Buffy. I love you." he whispered urgently, leaning in to kiss her. She responded to his mouth, and opened
hers happily, feeling his tongue explore her mouth that he already knew by heart. He pulled away, leaning his forhead on
hers. His trademark teasing grin flitted over his lips.
 "What?" she said strongly, as if offended.
 "You cared. You cared what I thought. You cared that I might reject you. You. Cared." he said, his smile growing
wider with triumph and utter joy. Her tiny hands suddenly met with his hard sculpted chest and she pushed him off of her
angrily.
 "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? God, Spike, its not like that. You always think its SOMETHING more. It's
NOT anything. THIS is not ANYTHING. I only cared that I would lose the sex. You have NOTHING to do with it." she spat at
him, gathering her clothing and pulling it on quickly. He groaned and fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes with
aggrevation.
 "Something, Anything, Nothing. Geez, Slayer." he sighed, then under his breath he added "Spikey's got an itch for
 a little blond bitch." Recalling Dru's words made the ache in his chest spread to his throat, head, and stomach. Buffy
glared at him one last time before climbing nimbly up the ladder. A loud bang announced her departure. Spike blinked, two
crystal tears forming in his icey eyes.
 "But he always wears a frown when she turns him down....She'll never love you. She'll hurt you worse than ever." he
quoted the mystical vampiress again, balling up his fist in anger.

Next Part