Buffy groaned and tried to open her eyes. Her head hurt massively, as if she'd been hit with a ton of bricks. *Wait a minute. That's what did happen,* she thought to herself and groaned again. Forcing her eyes open, she tried to put her hand to her aching head, but found she couldn't.
"What the…" Buffy said, jerking her arms. Her hands were tied above her to the headboard. *Oh, god, I'm tied to a bed,* she thought, struggling against the bonds. She turned to her stomach and knelt, glad that her feet were still free. She began to study the metal handcuffs that adorned her wrists.
"Oh, good. You're up," a voice sounded from behind her. With a feeling of dread, Buffy looked over her shoulder. *Who else would it be?* she asked herself with disgust.
"I thought I told you to get lost and stay that way," Buffy said between clenched teeth. She turned back to her bonds and began to pull against them, looking for a weakness.
"Sorry, pet. I just couldn't resist," Spike said, sauntering casually into the bedchamber. Soft light radiated from an ornate lamp which sat on a small nightstand. The room was decorated tastefully in shades of hunter green and dark gray. Twin chests stood like guards next to a walk in closet. The dark wood of the dressers matched the head and baseboard of the queen sized bed.
"I should have staked you in my kitchen," Buffy mumbled, bending her head down closer to her captured wrists. She should be panicked at her situation but for some reason, she was not. At least, not yet.
"But then we wouldn't get to have any fun," Spike said, his predatory steps leading him closer to his prize. Before Buffy knew it, the vampire was behind her on the bed, arms around her waist and head by her ear. "And I'm really looking forward to it."
Buffy hissed and tried to buck him off of her, but Spike only laughed. He had her at a disadvantage, since she had turned to examine the cuffs. Kneeling behind her, he could control her movements. "Get. Off. Me."
"No," Spike whispered, lowering his lips to her neck. He lightly brushed them over her nearly bare shoulder, then up the long column causing her to shiver from their coolness.
"Spike, quit it," Buffy tried again to escape from his grasp, but he held firm. She felt his hands move up under her shirt, tracing idle patterns on her bare stomach. Now, she was scared. When his hands moved again, this time to cup her breasts through the material of her bra, she understood Spike's intentions.
She began to struggle against him in earnest, wanting to prevent the vampire from having her, but she was too late. She felt his fangs latch on to the side of her next, drinking from her. Her wrists became bloody as she pulled at the cuffs, trying to break free. Buffy felt herself slowly weaken and knew this was the end. She was going to die.
But then something changed. Spike had stopped drinking from her and was now licking her neck in a seductive pattern. He massaged her breasts, bringing her nipples to an unwanted peak. Pressed up against the back of her body, she could feel his arousal straining against the material of his pants.
One of his cold hands trailed slowly back down her belly and delved under her skirt and panties, searching for its hidden contents. He began to stroke her, pushing her back so he could rub against her backside. The scent of her unbidden arousal filled the room.
Buffy fought against the darkness that threatened to engulf her. Her own body was betraying her at Spike's touch and she knew that was why he had drank from her, to weaken her so he could do as he pleased. To take her, physically and emotionally by getting her body to respond to his ministrations.
Silently, the vampire began to remove her clothing, snapping the straps of her shirt and bra and carelessly tossing the articles to the floor. Belaying his nature, he gently turned Buffy over, her hands once again above her head, then feasted on her naked form with his eyes.
Buffy's own heavy gaze saw the fire burning in the blue depths of his eyes. She struggled once more weakly, but knew it was futile. She was at his mercy, and he was going to offer none.
Spike licked his lips in a predatory fashion, then began assaulting her skin with his teeth and tongue. He nipped and sucked his way from her neck, down the valley of her breasts before settling between her thighs. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut as his tongue invaded her folds, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her body. No one had ever done this to her, and silent tears began to stream down her face as the last shred of her innocence was ripped away by a demon.
Soon, she was bucking wildly against his talented mouth, orgasm shaking her to the core. Her silent tears turned to sobs as Spike moved away, only to surge inside of her with one powerful thrust. His pace was frantic, forceful, all consuming. Buffy felt herself falling once more as he sunk his fangs into her neck and climaxed, bringing her with him. Soon, the blessed darkness washed over her, and the Slayer gave into its seduction.
Spike looked down at the unconscious Slayer and sighed. It hadn't been as much fun as he had hoped. Yes, her body betrayed her and he reveled in her sobs, but she didn't fight him. He wanted her to fight him, making his actions all the more satisfactory. Instead, she gave into him.
Frowning, he stood, his naked form gleaming in the dim light from her sweat and juices. Spike slid his pants back on, then covered her with the sheet before leaving the bedroom. He moved through the dark hallway, avoiding the few minions scattered about the house. When Spike had returned to Sunnydale for the second time, he'd taken the time to pick out a place to dwell, then got himself invited inside and killed the owners.
Entering the kitchen, he opened a bottle of scotch and drank from it. He looked out of the kitchen window into the dark night, deep in thought. It had been relatively easy to capture the Slayer this time around. He sent a few of his minions after her with directions to push her under the construction equipment. Then he dropped a load of bricks on her head.
Simple, effective, efficient. It was only a matter of picking her up and bringing her back to the house. Spike took another swig of the alcohol and felt it burn down his throat. Purposely setting the bottle aside, he spun and stalked back to the bedroom, intent on killing his foe. But when he saw her, her blond hair a sharp contrast to the dark sheets, he couldn't. Something inside was telling him that if she died, he would die, as well.
With a growl, he unlocked the handcuffs and lowered her arms. He went over to the dresser and pulled out a black shirt, then pulled it over the Slayer's unconscious form. Spike brushed a strand of hair off of her face, noting the bite marks on her neck. He frowned again, then climbed into the bed next to her to wait.
Buffy opened her eyes, praying that she had been dreaming. When she saw the hunter green walls, she squeezed her lids shut in pain. It was no dream.
Deciding now was better than never to try to escape, she was surprised to find her arms no longer handcuffed to the bed. She looked down at her raw wrists, noticing she was dressed in a black shirt and under the sheets.
"Hello, Slayer," Spike said, making her jump. He was laying on the bed at her side, watching her. Scrambling away from the vampire as fast as she could, Buffy found herself searching desperately for a stake that had to be with her clothing.
"It's on the dresser," he said, gesturing with his head.
Buffy's eyes shot to his, then looked to where he nodded. Sure enough, the stake was sitting on the dresser. "You do realize I'm going to kill you now," she told him, picking her weapon up.
"I doubt that, pet," Spike said with a smirk.
Buffy launched herself at the vampire, intent on driving the wood into his undead heart. But at the last second she shifted, the stake imbedding itself in his shoulder. She had come to the same realization that he had earlier. If he died, she would, too.
Spike grunted in pain and threw the Slayer off of him. He grabbed the end of the stake and pulled it out, swearing as blood ran swiftly down his bare chest. Standing, he went over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer, extracting some gauze and tape. He pressed the white pad to his wound, stanching the flow, and attempted to use his teeth to rip the tape.
Buffy climbed to her feet and went over to him, yanking the tape from his grasp. She proceeded to fix him up, a scowl on her heart shaped face. "You'll live," she pronounced, chucking the tape back into the drawer. "Rotten luck."
He glared at her, then returned to his seat on the bed. Leaning back on the pillows, he felt the pull of sleep as dawn broke over the horizon. "Wait until the sun is fully up before you leave, Slayer," Spike instructed. "The others should be asleep by then."
"Do you know how much I don't care?" Buffy asked him. Tears were starting to form in her eyes and she bit her lip to prevent them from falling. The events of the past night caught up with her and she choked back a sob. "Oh, god."
He eyed her from the bed, not moving to bring comfort as the blond fell to her knees on the floor and began to bawl. Inside, his demon was cheering at her reaction, but the rest of what made up Spike was upset at her, for not being as strong as he thought she was. The pull of sleep was strong, too strong for the master vampire to resist any further, and he let himself drift off into oblivion.
Buffy finally pulled herself together and dressed. She was forced to wear Spike's shirt, seeing as he had torn hers, and she trembled as the soft material rubbed against her unencumbered breasts. "That's enough," she scolded herself. "You're tougher than this. You've had worse things happen. Get it together, Slayer, and thank whoever that you're still alive."
After her little talk with herself, Buffy cautiously made her way out of the bedroom and down the shadowy hall. She found the kitchen, thinking it strange that sunlight shined through the window and opened the back door. Stepping outside, she took a deep breath of the fresh, cool air.
Walking quickly, she distanced herself from the house, bypassing her own home in favor of going to the school, which was only a few blocks away. But the further she got away from Spike's lair, the sicker she felt. By the time she entered the library, Buffy was practically hunched over in pain. She collapsed onto a chair, gasping for breath.
"Buffy, what is it?" Giles asked, hurrying to his Slayer's side. He had seen her enter his home away from home, doubled over, clutching her stomach. "Are you ill?"
"It hurts," Buffy ground out. "What did he do to me…"
"What did who do to-to you?" Giles said. He put his hand on her forehead, but she wasn't running a fever.
Giles brought his head up in surprise. "Spike? But-but I thought he was gone."
"So did I," Buffy replied. She moaned as she tried to straighten her body. "But he's definitely here. I have the lump on my head to prove it."
"He dropped a load of bricks on me," Buffy said. "It was probably the highlight of my night." *That's an understatement,* she added mentally.
"Well, I am glad that you're alright," Giles said. He walked rapidly to his office and returned with one of his many books.
"Let me guess, another prophecy," Buffy said, her voice devoid of any humor. She winced as pain lanced through her mid-section, and hugged her arms against herself protectively.
"Um…yes," Giles said. He found the passage and began to read. "One of the darkness, one of the light, brought together by force one night. An instant in time, a bond created, causing pain when separated. If one does take a final breath, the other shall follow into death. Strengths will be given, weakness taken away, allowing the darkness into the day. Together they shall bring a child of power, but one will die in the final hour. But with this death, the bond broken away, the entire world the child will save."
"Shit," Buffy said.
"I-I beg your pardon," Giles replied, clearly astonished by her language.
"Make me a copy of that," she instructed. Giles nodded and did as asked, handing her the single sheet. "Thanks. I'll see you later." She stood, hunching over, and walked quickly towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Giles called after her.
"To kill someone," Buffy replied, the doors swinging shut behind her.
Buffy stormed into the house, not caring as to the amount of noise she made in the vampire's lair. She had found the closer she got to her destination, the less pain she was in, until it disappeared completely at the door.
Spike's eyes popped open at the intrusion, his face shifting to its demonic planes. The sleep that normally claimed him had been painful and uncomfortable, so he was unconsciously overprotecting himself from an attack. Growling, he launched himself at the Slayer, and they both went to the ground. He tried to go in for the kill, but Buffy threw him of her and into one of the dressers.
"Spike, wake up!" she screamed, scrambling to her feet. She locked the bedroom door to prevent any intrusion, then stomped over to the vamp. She kicked him in the ribs. "Get up!"
His hand shot out and grabbed her ankle, knocking Buffy to the floor. He quickly covered her body with his, pinning her arms to the ground, his yellow eyes glowing.
"Spike, wake up," Buffy ground out, wiggling underneath him.
Spike blinked once, focusing on the blond beneath him. "Slayer?"
"Duh," she answered.
Spike let the human mask drop over his features and his confused blue eyes met her furious gray. "What are you doing here?"
"Get off me and I'll tell you," Buffy spat. He did as requested and watched as she stood and retrieved the paper she had dropped, shoving it at him. "Read this."
He shot her another puzzled glance, then accepted the paper. Dropping his eyes, he quickly scanned the copy. "Fuck."
"That about sums it up," she said sarcastically.
This time, his eyes reflected anger as he jerkily made his way to the dresser and pulled out a shirt and a clean pair of pants. "Don't go anywhere," he told her, unlocking the bedroom door.
"In case you hadn't noticed, I can't," she snapped.
Spike strode down the hall and into the bathroom. Slamming the door, he threw his clean clothes on the never used toilet and stripped. Turning the water on cold, he stepped under the stinging nettles, letting it wash away the remains of his tumulus sleep and anger at what he had read.
"Bloody hell," he swore, bracing his hands against the wall, head down. The freezing water coursed over his body, hitting his neck with its powerful spray. Finally gaining control of his raging demon, he shut off the shower, toweled off and dressed in his clean clothes.
He returned to the bedroom and found the Slayer standing by the heavily curtained window, looking out into the backyard. He avoided the sun entering around her and sat on the edge of the bed. He waited for her to make the first move.
"Spike, come here," Buffy said, not facing him. When she didn't hear him move, she spun and clomped over to him, snatching his arm and dragging him towards the unshielded window.
"Slayer, stop!" Spike said, trying to jerk from her grasp. But it was too late. He was standing partially in a shaft of sunlight. With a yell, he jumped back into the shadows. "What the bloody hell did you do that for?!"
"For the first time since I've been the Slayer, I was able to interpret a prophecy by myself," she said, her voice barely audible. She laughed hollowly. "And this one says I'm going to die. Again."
"What are you going on about?"
She turned her face to him and sighed, her anger forgotten to be replaced with depression and finality. "You can come into the light, Spike. It won't hurt you."
Spike frowned at her, not sure of her game. She held out her hand, palm up in the sunlight, waiting. Tentatively, braced to pull back at the slightest hint of pain, he let his hand enter the stream of sunlight and take her hand.
Emboldened and curious, he stood and cautiously stepped into the shaft of light next to the Slayer. It didn't burn him, didn't reduce him to a pile of ash, did nothing of what the rays of light should have done. He looked into Buffy's upturned face.
"Told you," she said, smirking at him. Then her expression changed to depression as she thought of the prophecy. "Strengths will be given, weakness taken away, allowing the darkness into the day," she quoted. Her eyes filled with tears again. "I hoped it wasn't true."
Spike, however, was not upset with the recent twist of events. Standing in the sun for the first time in centuries was making him giddy. He started to laugh, holding his arms out and examining them in the daylight.
"I'm glad someone is amused," Buffy said.
He shot her a cheeky grin, then grabbed her hand again. "Come on," he said, dragging her out the door, down the hall and to the kitchen. He stopped there and stood uncertainly in front of the kitchen door. Taking an unneeded breath, Spike opened the door and stepped over the threshold into the bright morning sky, pulling Buffy with him.
Spike closed his eyes to the bright light, raising his face to the sun. It warmed his skin, caressing his face with its rays. He smiled, completely and utterly happy, then wrapped his arms around the Slayer, spinning her in circles.
If she wasn't depressed, Buffy would have found Spike's actions amusing. However, it was all she could do not to ruin his 'moment in the sun' by killing him. But that would end her life, too.
And she was not ready to die.
Spike fell back onto the ground, Buffy still in his arms cradling her descent. He smiled up at her and planted a hard kiss on her lips, then let her fall to his side. He looked up at the few white clouds that moved in the blue sky. "Hey, you really can see shapes in the clouds."
Buffy chuckled at his statement, and before long it had turned into a full blown laugh that was on the edge of hysteria. When she managed to calm down, she closed her eyes and let the suns healing rays fall down on her.
They lay like that for almost an hour as the sun continued to rise in the sky. Eventually, the peace they had both discovered was interrupted by Buffy's stomach growling loudly.
Spike turned his head and arched an eyebrow. "What was that?"
"That was my cue to leave," she told him. "However, seeing as I don't want to spend the afternoon in pain, you're coming with me."
"Coming. With. Me," she said slowly. "Did the sun melt what little brains you had?"
He scowled at her, refusing to rise to the bait. "Why should I?"
"Fine," Buffy said, standing. "I'll be in front of the school waiting for you to show up."
"Not bloody likely," he scoffed.
"Just wait," she said. "You'll be at my side before you know it." With that, she turned and left the yard, retracing her route for the second time that day.
The pain was dull at first, sort of a mild cramp. But as her walk progressed, it became sharper and sharper until she was once again hunched over. At the steps to the school, she sat, arms held tightly around her waist and resting her head on her knees.
Spike swore as he ran down the street, wincing in pain with each step. The Slayer had been right when she'd said he would come to her. He had no choice. Luckily, the closer he got to his destination, the less he hurt.
He saw her sitting on the steps and slowed, the pain almost entirely gone. She raised her head and shot him a look that said 'I told you so.' Somewhat dejected that his first day in the sun was spoiled, he made his way to her. "You are a bloody pain, did you know that?"
Buffy snickered and shook her head, glad that the pain had abated. She stood and brushed off the back of her skirt, then tugged the borrowed black shirt down. With a sigh at her appearance, she turned to the doors. "Coming?"
Spike only glared at her as they entered the school.
Walking through the empty halls brought back memories of the night he'd attacked the Slayer and met up with his sire. He could see students sitting in the classrooms as they went by and wondered what they thought of the fact they lived on a Hellmouth. His introspection was halted by a small, large eared man.
"And where are we going, Ms. Summers?" Principal Snyder said, stopping in front of the duo.
"I'm showing Spike here where the library is," Buffy answered quickly. "The teacher asked me to do it, seeing as he was going to be a new student."
"Really?" Snyder asked with false belief. "Then how come I haven't heard of him?"
"I'm standing right here, mate," Spikes said, anger tingeing his voice. Buffy elbowed him in the ribs.
"He just moved here, from Brazil," Buffy told the man. "His transfer papers should be here tomorrow, right Spike?"
"Er…right, Slayer," Spike answered. She elbowed him again.
Snyder looked them both up and down, then nodded. "Very well. I expect you to return to class directly after you show him to the library. And I will have the pleasure of reading all about you," he said to Spike. "Tomorrow."
Snyder walked off and Buffy sighed. "I really hate that man."
"Why don't you just kill him, pet?" Spike asked as they continued to the library.
"Contrary to popular belief, I only slay the bad guys," she answered. They arrived at the swinging doors and she paused, gathering her wits. "Ready to face the music?"
"As long as it's not that country crap, I'm game," he replied, giving her a wry grin.
Buffy sighed and opened the library doors, not even close to being ready to face her fate.
"Giles, where are you?" Buffy said upon entering the library.
"Oh, good, you're back," Giles said, coming out of the stacks on the second floor. His nose was in a book, as usual. "I've been cross-referencing this prophecy with…" he trailed off when he saw Spike standing next to her. "You are aware of-of the fact that Spike is, er, standing beside you?"
Buffy looked at the vampire, then back at Giles. "I know," she said, annoyance in her voice. She went over and sat heavily on a chair. Spike leaned against the check-out counter. "Have I told you how much I hate prophecies?"
The bell rang and students filtered out into the halls. Buffy looked at the clock, then over at Spike. "You might want to move. Xander and Willow will be here any second."
Spike shrugged. "So? It's not bloody likely they'll do anything to me."
"Uh, Buffy," Giles said, walking down the stairs. "W-would you mind explaining why Spike is-is here, in the library…during the day?"
Buffy opened her mouth to answer when Xander and Willow walked in. "Hi, Giles. Hi, Buffy," Willow greeted. "Hi, Spike." She did a double take of the vampire leaning casually against the counter. "Spike!"
Xander whipped out a cross. Spike winced, but did nothing else.
"Xander, put that away," Buffy said in a tired voice.
"Now," she said more sharply.
Xander acquiesced, walking well around the vamp to the table. Willow had already scurried past him and was sitting nervously in front of 'her' computer. "Wait a minute. How can Deadboy Junior be here…in the day?" Xander asked.
"Ask Professor Prophecy," Buffy answered. Spike snickered at her slur towards her Watcher and she glared at him.
"Oh, my," Giles said, understanding what she meant. He removed his glasses, looked at Spike, then back at Buffy. "Oh, dear. You mean that-that…"
"Without going into the gruesome details, you can thank Blondie over there for shoving me into the prophecy trap," Buffy said.
"Uh, do you want to explain to the rest of the peanut gallery?" Xander said.
"Giles, read the good news," the Slayer instructed. Giles nodded, replaced his glasses and retrieved the book. As he reread the prophecy, her eyes started to water again. Shoving back her chair, she ran out of the library.
"I'll, uh, go after her," Willow said, following quickly behind her friend.
Spike could feel a cramp starting in his mid-section and rubbed it uncomfortably. *This could get old real fast,* he thought.
"Quick, Giles, give me a stake," Xander said.
"Don't even try it, mate," Spike said. "You kill me, you kill her."
"Xander, as much as I loathe to admit it, Spike is correct," Giles said. "According to the prophecy, if one dies, the other dies as-as well."
The vampire shifted on his feet, trying to get rid of the pain in his side. "Will you get that damn Slayer back here," he demanded, pressing on his side. "This is bloody annoying."
"Fascinating," Giles said, removing his glasses again. "'Pain when separated…'"
Buffy was sobbing in the ladies restroom when Willow found her. She was sitting under the window, arms clasped around her knees, and rocking back and forth. The pain in her side was nothing compared to the emotional pain she was feeling.
"Buffy?" Willow said timidly. "Are you ok?"
"No," she answered between sobs. "I'm not."
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Willow asked, sitting next to her friend and putting her arm around Buffy's shoulders.
"Oh, Willow," she cried, leaning against the red head. "What did I ever do to deserve this? Was I so awful in my past life? Did I offend some big deity?"
"I'm sure you didn't," Willow comforted.
"Then how is it that Spike got to fuck me and I'm the one who's going to die?" Buffy asked in a harsh voice.
"He did what?"
"Had sex with me, raped me, screwed me," she answered. "And whatever other synonyms you can think of, the bastard."
"I'm so sorry, Buffy," Willow said, holding her friend as she began to cry again.
Xander popped his head into the bathroom after knocking. "Hello? Male coming in." He stepped through the door and, upon hearing his closest friends crying, hurried over to them. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Spike raped her," Willow told him.
Xander swore, then sat down on the other side of Buffy, putting his arm over Willow's on the Slayer's shoulders. "Do you want me to do anything?" he asked softly.
"No," Buffy said, calming down. "If he dies, I'll die. I want to postpone that for as long as I can." The pain at her side was becoming more noticeable. She turned her tear streaked face to Xander. "Why are you here, anyway?"
"Oh, um…Spike was threatening bodily harm if I didn't get you back to the library," Xander answered.
Buffy nodded and stood. She turned on the cold water and splashed her face. Red, puffy eyes stared back at her from the mirror. "Damn. I don't want him to see me like this."
She winced and held her side. "But I can't hang around her any longer. C'mon, you two. I have a bone to pick with Spike and I need you, Willow, to enroll him for all my classes, starting tomorrow."
"Why?" Willow asked as the trio headed back to the library.
"Because of this stupid prophecy," the Slayer explained. "It seems that I can't be too far away from him without some major owies."
"But what about the sun…oh, hey! He was already in the library, in the daytime!" Willow said.
"Yeah, another fun bonus," Buffy said sarcastically. "Sun-proofed vamp."
The three entered the library and the pain was immediately gone. Buffy went right up to Spike and punched him hard in the face. His head flew back in impact, blood trickling down the side of his mouth. She did it again, then went for a third strike when the vampire caught her fist.
"You want to have a go at it, Slayer?" he asked, shoving her arm away. "Fine. I'm game."
"Good," Buffy said, taking a step back. They both got into fighting positions, then began to pummel each other. Willow, Giles and Xander all watched as the two tried to beat one another to a pulp. Finally, both exhausted and barely moving, Giles cleared his throat.
"If you two are finished?" he asked. They glared at him, but nodded. "Very well. Buffy, I have taken the liberty of calling your mother. She has arranged for you to be off school for the remainder of the day. I suspect you might want to go home and inform her about the prophecy, seeing as you two will need to share living quarters."
"What!" Xander exclaimed. "She's got to bunk with that blood-sucker? After what he did?"
"Xander, don't," Buffy said, slowly rising to her feet from the library floor. "It happened, there's nothing that can change it, so drop it."
The Slayer shut him up with a murderous glare. "Will, call me when you get Spike enrolled."
"Uh…what name should I use? And birthday? And where is he from? What school did he go to?" Willow asked, mouse already moving to open her bookmark for the school records.
"Your call, Spike," she answered, looking at him.
"I don't bloody care," Spike answered. "Pick some school in Brazil. That's what you told that troll in the hall. As for my name, it's William Chapman."
"Got that?" Buffy asked Willow. The hacker nodded. "Good. Giles, do you still want me to patrol tonight?"
"If you could," Giles answered.
"And what am I suppose to do, Slayer?" Spike said.
"Sit on your thumb, for all I care," she snapped back at him. With that, she turned and walked out of the library.
Spike gave the others a smirk. "Well, that was a bit uncalled for," he said, then left as well.
The three stared at the swinging doors, then looked at each other. "Is it true that Buffy's going to die?"
"If the prophecy is-is correct, it is a-a-a foreseeable possibility," Giles answered.
"The we'll just bring her back again," Xander said. "Like with the Master."
"I'm afraid it won't be that simple, Xander," Giles said. "If I am reading it correctly, Buffy has to-to die in order for the child to save the world from…whatever it shall need saving from."
"Well, I won't let it," Xander declared. "Not if it's in my power to stop."
"Do you think we should tell Angel?" Willow asked softly. Xander snorted at the mention of the soul-filled vampire's name, but Giles nodded.
"I think we had better," he said. "Perhaps Xander is-is correct in trying to prevent Buffy's death. If so, we could use all the help we can find."
"I'll go and tell him after school," the red head volunteered. "While it's still light outside."
"And I'll go with you," Xander said. "So Deadboy won't try anything funny."
"Then it is settled," Giles said. The bell rang, signaling the end of third period. "Willow, if you will please stay and finish enrolling Spike here in school. I shall give you a pass to your next class. Xander, you should go ahead to your own class."
"Ok," the boy replied. He picked up his backpack and slowly headed to the door. "See you at lunch, Wills."
After Xander left, Willow turned to Giles. "Spike raped her," she said without preamble.
Giles nodded. "I figured as much. I would kill him myself if it wouldn't end Buffy's life, as well. I-I-I guess I had better get back to-to my books. Maybe there is some way to prevent her from dying at all."