"We can't fill one of those up, man," Carl said, "it'd take all night."

"No, no. One of them baby ones, you know, for kids."

Larry and Carl exchanged a look.

"I don't know," Larry said. "He's a big kid."

"What if it gets a leak?" Carl asked.

"Duct tape."

In the dining room, Willow read from the book. "'Are you the original spell-caster? If so, skip to page twenty-five. If you aren't, continue.'" She looked up. "Well, that's easy enough." She started turning pages.

"Stay on that page, please," Giles said.

"But, I'm the original spell-caster, Giles."

"I know, but pretend it's me reading the book."

"Fine," she huffed.

Anya rushed into the room and grabbed Giles to get his attention.

Giles got a whiff of her perfume. "Anya?"

"No," she answered.

Willow looked disgusted. "Yes, it is. Why are you lying?"

"I'm not!"

"Anya," Giles said, "do you have something to tell us?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?"

"I don't know how to break the spell."

"Well, join the club. Neither do we."

"I mean I really DON'T know what's wrong!"

"Yes, I understand. . . ." Giles looked puzzled. "Anya, have you been effected by this spell?"

"No."

"Are you certain?"

"No."

Realization was slowly reaching Giles. He said, "Is your name Anya?"

"No," she said hopefully.

Giles took a deep breath and put a hand to his head. "All right. I see." He considered Anya's statements over the last few minutes. "So, you know how to break the spell?"

"No."

"All right. Is it something we're doing?"

"Yes."

"Is it something Willow is doing?"

"Yes."

Giles nodded and steeled himself for a round of 20 questions.

"An ice chest. . . ."

"He won't fit in that," Carl said.

"We could chop 'em up. Mash the pieces in real tight. . . ."

Larry stared at him. "What kind of a moron are you?"

"Um. . . ."

"We can't kill him!"

The demon looked sheepish. "Oh. Right."

Larry raised his voice. "Anyone got any ideas?"

A short, pudgy demon in the back held up his hand.

"Traffic was hell." Angel said, placidly. He was seated at the kitchen table. "I think every demon in Sunnydale is heading to Los Angeles. What's going on?"

Joyce explained what she knew.

"Huh," Angel said, nodding in understanding. He glanced up at Spike who was leaning against the counter, glowering. "We have to settle a few things, Spike."

Spike smiled wickedly at him. "How 'bout sunlight at 20 paces? That ought to do it."

Angel looked annoyed. "You know the rules, Spike."

"Rules?" Buffy asked. She was uptight, trying to be supportive of two people she cared about without offending the other.

"Yes," Angel said, firmly. He looked at Spike again. "Vampires don't usually get married, you know."

"So?"

"So, there's a little thing called protocol. Maybe you've heard about it?"

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. "Like I care 'bout that."

"If you were still a vampire you would."

"Hey!" Spike pushed himself away from the counter. "I'm still a vampire! Still the big bad! Just 'cause I can't bite anything right now -!"

Buffy wrapped an arm around him and put a hand on his cheek. "It's okay, honey. We know you're evil."

Angel ground his teeth together. "Don't make this harder, Spike. If you want to marry her. . . ."

"Well, I'm sure you'll work this out quickly," Joyce said, looking pointedly at Spike.

Spike let out a low growl. "Fine." He crossed to Angel and tried to look civil. "I want to marry Buffy, the Slayer."

"Why?"

Spike snorted again and gestured. "Look at her."

Buffy smiled, self-consciously, and looked at the tiled floor.

Spike said, smirking, "Makes me feel all manly when I'm around 'er."

"And?" Angel prompted.

Spike rubbed his chest. "I get all hot an' tingly and wanna' throw her over my shoulder and carry her off to. . . ." He looked guiltily at Joyce. "Um . . . to a restaurant . . . uh . . . for a . . . a candlelight dinner with . . . um . . . music and flowers . . . and, um . . . yeah. . . ."

"Spike, that's so romantic," Buffy said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"And?" Angel persisted.

Spike groaned and rolled his eyes. "Because I love her!" He marched back to Buffy and glowered at Angel. "Happy now?"

Angel thought about it. "Not ecstatic, but . . . I guess it'll do. There's supposed to be a ceremony, you know."

Spike looked irritated. "Yeah, yeah . . . incense, crooning, and flag wavin'," he said, gesturing.

"We don't have a flag," Angel said, testily.

"Do I have your permission or what?"

Angel shook his head and sighed as a longsuffering parent. "Yes, you can marry her."

Buffy squealed in glee and jumped up and down, clapping her hands.

"I have to be at the wedding, though," Angel said.

"What! You bloody well do not!"

Angel sighed. "Yes, I do. Drusilla is your sire and she's obviously not going to be there to give you away."

Buffy giggled. "Spike has to be given away?"

"I bloody well do not!" Spike said.

"He's leaving the fold," Angel explained. "Vampires don't usually get married and since he's marrying a human . . . well, he has to be cast out."

"What does that mean?" Buffy asked, worriedly.

Angel shrugged. "Nothing. Technically, he should be ostracized but nobody really cares. We have to go through with the ceremonial handover, though. Vampires are finicky about tradition. They don't care what it means, just so long as we don't ignore custom."

"Well, since you're going to be there anyway. . . ." Buffy began.

Xander joined the group in the dining room and stared. He didn't think the night could get any weirder, but every hour seemed to prove him wrong.

Anya stood in the middle of the room, miming for Willow. Both look exasperated.

Willow said, "Looks like. . . ."

Anya nodded vigorously.

"Yes! Oh! No! No!" Willow said. "Sounds like!"

"No!" Anya said, excitedly.

"Okay," Willow said, out of breath, "go on."

"Giles," Xander asked, cautiously, "what's going on?"

Giles sighed. "Anya has been effected by the spell, too."

"What!"

"Apparently, she can't tell the truth."

Realization hit Xander as he thought over the last few hours. "Great," he muttered. He looked at his girlfriend as she mimed for Willow.

"What's with the charades?"

"Anya has information."

"About Wil's spell?"

"I think so. It wasn't terribly clear."

Xander watched.

"First letter?" Willow asked.

Anya nodded enthusiastically.

"Last letter?"

Anya nodded.

"Second letter?"

"No!"

"Okay!" Willow clapped her hands.

Anya held up all ten fingers.

Willow gave Giles an exhausted look. "Charades is hard enough without the other players lying, Giles. This is hard."

"I know. Just keep at it."

"Are you sure you don't want to call technical support, Giles?" Xander asked.

Giles clinched his jaw. "I will not be reduced to calling those bloody pillocks for help," he ground out.

"Okaaay. . . ," Xander said. "Just thought you'd like to know what's goin' on in the kitchen."

"More wedding planning, I should imagine," Giles said with distaste.

"Yeah, and Angel's here."

"Yes, Willow told me."

Xander stared. "And, that doesn't bother you?"

"I don't hear fighting," he said, in exasperation. "Besides, Buffy can handle it."

Spike's voice broke through then. "No soddin' way in hell!"

"Now what?" Giles asked.

"Spike!" Buffy screamed. "Calm down!"

"I'll go see," Xander said.

In the kitchen he found Spike pacing in a tight circle, gesturing wildly and spewing the occasional unintelligent syllable at the group. Buffy was trying to calm him.

"I'd rather have my skin flayed off and . . . and . . . and sewn back on with a staple gun!" Spike screamed.

"Spike, honey, be reasonable. . . ."

"Reasonable?" He stopped and ran his hands through his hair, then glared at Angel. "I . . . am . . . NOT . . . having . . . this . . . WANKER . . . be . . . my . . . best . . . man!" He turned a stern look on Buffy. "Is that bloody well clear enough for everyone?" he asked, looking from one to the other.

"So, you're upset?" Angel said.

"Still got a few things to work out, huh?" Xander asked, indifferently.

Buffy brightened. "Xander!"

"Yeah, right here," he said, holding up a hand. "I could throw a sheet over my body," he said, curtly, "that way you still couldn't see me but you'd know where I am."

"Spike, honey," Buffy said, ignoring Xander's bitterness. She grabbed his face with both hands, leaned in and whispered into his ear. "Xander could do it."

He made a face.

"You don't have anyone else," she said, reasonably.

Spike took a calming breath, but started choking midway through.

"Breathe through your mouth, honey."

Spike nodded.

"You wanna' think it over?" Buffy asked.

Spike grumbled, "I don't have to think about it."

Buffy looked upset.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. "Fine. I'll think about it, luv."

Xander groaned. "We've got a serious mojo crisis here in case none of you noticed, and a reading from the Necromicon goin' on in the dining room," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "So, could you keep it down in here? Besides, I don't think the neighbors care."

The group stared at him.

Angel grimaced. "What is that smell?"

"We got everything?" Carl asked. He was standing outside the factory with Larry and a group of demons.

"Think so. Spike's supposed to bring the rest."

Carl studied the assembled demons, then turned to Larry. "So, we gonna' draw those straws, then?"

Willow stared at the notepad in her hand. She looked up and gave Anya a puzzled frown.

Anya nodded, prompting her to read it aloud.

Exasperated, Giles asked, "What does it say, Willow?"

She cleared her throat and read, "'It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.'" She looked up and her gaze wandered to Giles.

He looked perturbed. "Wonderful," he muttered. "A cryptic demon."

Willow said, "All this for a stupid cliche?"

Anya looked guilty.

"Do you know what it means?" Willow asked.

Anya nodded vigorously, frowning the whole time.

"Well, what -? Oh." It wasn't easy remembering everything Anya said was untrue. Over the last hour Willow had grudgingly realized that her do-my-will spell was responsible. She just didn't know how to fix it.

Giles looked annoyed. "A cliche never did anyone any good and I strongly suspect the first time it was used the speaker had a round of vegetables chucked at him."

"Um, well," Willow said, "wanna' go back to the book?"

Xander and Spike were back in the living room again. Spike couldn't take anymore wedding plans and he especially couldn't take anymore of Angel. Spike frowned, thinking about him. He wanted to crack his sire over the head with a blunt object, then drag him outside and wait under a nice, shady tree for the sun to come up. Of course, Buffy wouldn't like that. . . .

"Spike?"

"Huh?"

"Are they gonna' call back?" Xander asked.

"Who? Oh . . . yeah, when they have a meetin' place we can all agree on." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Xander. "They also had a list of things they want us to bring."

Xander took the paper and read through it, shaking his head from time to time.

Giles stalked through the room quickly, having gotten a feel for the layout some hours ago. It wasn't clear whether he needed a coffee break or a break from the occupants of the dining room.

"How's it going, Rupert?" Spike asked. "Need anything?"

Giles ignored him and kept going.

A minute passed in silence while Spike wrote fervently on his notepad and Xander studied the room with a desultory eye and mulled over the day's events. Occasionally, his eye would travel back to the list in his hand and he groaned and shook his head again.

"What rhymes with saffron?" Spike asked, suddenly.

Xander gawked at him. "Tell me that's for the smell-spell."

"It's for Buffy."

Xander smirked. "Don't tell me you're writing poems for her?"

Spike shrugged casually.

"Does Buffy like poetry?" Xander asked.

"All girls like poetry," Spike answered.

"Are you sure about that?"

Spike eyed him. "Don't they?"

Xander stared at him. "I don't know. I do know, however, that Buffy never mentioned getting any poems from Dead Boy."

Spike groaned and shook his head. "That poofter wouldn't know the way to a woman's heart if he had a road map and a guide."

Xander laughed.

Spike turned serious. "She wants 'em to be my best man."

"Yeah, I heard."

"What's goin' through her head that would make her think any man would want her ex to be her fiancé's best man?" Spike asked, astonished.

Xander nodded in understanding. "Yeah, that's rough."

Spike went back to his poetry.

Giles emerged from the kitchen after only five minutes and headed for the dining room. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and the pot in the other.

"Hey, Giles, do chicken fryers have to be refrigerated if you're gonna' use 'em in a spell?" Xander asked, waving his list at him.

Giles didn't answer.

"Yeah, well, okay," Xander called after him. "I'll just be right here . . . with Spike, if you need me for anything really important . . . like getting donuts or driving you around. . . ."

Spike glowered at the door to the kitchen. "He's probably in there right now tellin' her embarrassin' stories about me."

"I doubt it," Xander said. "We already have so many."

Spike gave him a disdainful look and went back to his poetry.

Xander shook his head. "When are they gonna' call back?"

"When they're ready."

They waited in silence some more and eventually Xander asked, "What does saffron mean, anyway?"

"Yellow . . . golden . . . blonde. . . ."

"Why don't you just use one of them? It'd be easier to rhyme."

Spike took on a condescending look. "You obviously don't know anything about poetry. It's gotta' be flowery and romantic."

"I know enough to know that nothing rhymes with saffron."

In the dining room, Willow was lying on the floor, the ice pack on her forehead again, and Giles was seated at the table again, his head in his hands. Anya continued reading from the book. "'Do you have any disability that precludes successful spell-casting? i.e. vertigo, high blood pressure, anxiety disorder, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, low intelligence, low self esteem, stress-induced nausea, tight budget, obscure locale, indifferent friends. . . .'"

Angel entered and crossed to Giles. "Can I talk to you, Giles?"

Giles looked up, wearily. "What is it?"

"I'm throwing a bachelor party for Spike. Buffy thought we could use your place."

Giles stared blankly at him for nearly half a minute.

"Giles?"

Giles eventually found his voice. "You're actually planning a bachelor party for Spike?"

"Who else is gonna' do it?"

Giles had the uncomfortable feeling that the quagmire they were all in was only getting wider and deeper.

". . . won't be that many people," Angel was saying. He grunted in amusement. "Let's face it, how many people like Spike?"

"I wouldn't care to guess."

"So, do you mind?"

Giles took another deep breath. "If it comes to that, Angel, I'll even help you pay for the bloody thing."

"Great," he said, slapping Giles on the back. "I've got some calls to make," he said, then left the room.

Giles turned back to Willow and Anya, who were still reading.

"What was your anxiety level? Were you threatened before or during the spell-casting? (Imminent death, dismemberment, imprisonment, etc.) Peer pressure? (verbal abuse, were you embarrassed or self-conscious? Did someone dare you to do it. . .?'"

Xander was on the phone again. He spoke for a minute, then looked at Spike. "They want to meet us at a church."

"What?" Spike leapt off the couch, his notepad falling to the floor.

Xander shrugged. "That old, rundown one at the edge of town."

"I don't like churches," Spike said, ardently. "Got too many crosses and stuff that burns."

"You don't have to touch anything."

Spike fumed.

"Look," Xander said, trying to be reasonable, "we'll be in and out."

Spike grumbled for a minute, but eventually agreed.

"We'll be there," Xander said. "Bring what?"

"You think they'll let us have it at the Bronze?" Buffy asked. She was at the sink, washing the few dishes that had been used through the night.

"I don't see why not," Joyce answered, casually turning pages in her bridal catalog.

Xander and Spike entered and began plundering the refrigerator.

"Can I help you boys find something?" Joyce asked.

"No thanks," Xander said.

"We're okay, mum." Spike winked at her and turned to the cupboards.

Joyce grinned. He was sweet and charming and strong and exactly what Buffy needed.

Xander, raiding the refrigerator, said over his shoulder, "Do you have any cooking sherry?"

In the dining room:

"'Number 52:,'" Anya read, "' Was this an emotion spell? Skip to page twenty-two. A matter altering spell? Skip to page fifty-three. A transmogrification spell? Skip to page seventy-six. . . .'"

"Giles," Willow interrupted, "this is unbelievable. What kind of a help guide is this? I've seen shorter ones on my computer."

"It's in depth, Willow," he answered. "There are an innumerable amount of spells and multiple ways for them to go wrong." His chair was pushed against the wall and he leaned his head back and stared blankly at the ceiling. "You'd do well to remember that."

She gave him a scornful look and said, "Why don't you just get me my own troubleshooting guide?"

"I did. It's at my house. I just didn't think you were in any condition to be performing any spells lately." He closed his eyes. "Turns out I was right."

Willow looked annoyed and ready to argue. Anya noticed and cleared her throat loudly.

"Please continue, Anya," Giles said.

She smiled, feeling useful, and proceeded to read. "'Was this an inter-dimensional gateway or alternating portal spell? A. With or without fluctuations in the time line or B. With or without personal temporal displacement?'"

Willow's jaw dropped open.

Angel paced the living room, the phone held to his ear. "I think you're overreacting, Cordy." He listened. "Spike has some good points." He listened some more. "Well, maybe not good. Just . . . less . . . evil. . . ."

"'What is your I.Q.?'" Anya read, then looked questioningly at Willow.

Willow rolled her eyes and didn't answer.

"What do you need all that stuff for, Xand?" Buffy asked. She put the last cup in the drainer and turned to face them.

"Just taking care of this little demon problem, Buff."

"Oh! Well, maybe I should help. I am the Slayer, you know." She looked at them expectantly.

"That's okay, luv," Spike said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "We can do this. You stay here with mum and work out the wedding plans."

"But, I think I should -."

Spike leaned in and put gentle hands on her shoulders. "Pet, do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then, let me do this for you."

She smiled. He was so wonderful, always thinking of her and not of himself. A tear trailed down her cheek.

"What's wrong, luv?"

"I don't deserve you, Spike," she said, quietly.

He grabbed her face with both hands and forced her to look at him. "Hey, if anyone doesn't deserve happiness it's me."

"He's right," Xander said, indifferently.

Buffy put her hands over his. "What if I can't make you happy?"

Spike looked stunned. "That could never happen, pet." He kissed her lightly on the lips. "I'm already happier than I've ever been in my entire life."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes big, glittering with tears.

"Really."

Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike and hugged him.

Xander cleared his throat. "I don't wanna' interrupt this thrilling display of unabashed melodrama, but the demon community is going to Def-Con 4."

Spike pulled away. "Yeah, okay."

"'Were you sick or injured? i.e., cold, flu, heart attack, stroke, blow to the head, puncture wound(s), crush injury, poisoned, drugged. . . .'"

"It is not outrageous," Angel said into the phone. "Do you know how much liquor it takes to get a vampire drunk?"

"'Are you standing on or nearby a mystical site?'" Anya read. "'Mausoleum, pyramid, ceremonial burial place, some newer cemeteries, a pagan temple, Stonehenge, a hellmouth. . . .'"

Giles' head snapped up. "Hellmouth?"

Willow stood and snatched the book from Anya. She read further down. "'Never perform the following spells on or in proximity to a hellmouth: 1: Love potions. They effect the undead as well as the living and a hellmouth attracts. . . .'"

"Next," Giles said, urgently.

"'Number 2: Do-thy-will spells.'" Willow gave a little cry of shock and mortification. "Oh . . . Giles -!"

"Just read it, please, Willow." Giles stood and began pacing.

"'The very nature of the do-thy-will spell and its continuing influence precludes use on or near a hellmouth as the mystical energy radiating from the supernatural portal will likely perpetuate this type of spell indefinitely.'"

"And. . . ." Giles prompted.

Willow read some more. "'In the event you have been irresponsible enough to endanger yourself and those around you with an amateurish attempt. . . ." Willow stopped. "That is just rude -."

"Willow."

She pursed her lips, then continued. "'Blah, blah, blah . . .place a protective spell around the spell-caster to prevent the energy from the hellmouth from interfering with his/her removal spell. Cast the removal spell again.'" Willow glanced up. "That's it?"

"Look through the book. Find the protection spell," Giles said, quickly.

Willow flipped through several pages with Anya looking over her shoulder. They both squealed at the same time.

Giles sighed. "All right. Do we need anything?"

"Um . . . no," Willow said, reading through it. "Well, nothing I didn't have with me." She glanced at Anya. "Unless you threw the stuff from my pockets away."

"Willow. . . ." Giles warned.

"Okay, okay." She read through the spell while Anya accumulated the things they needed.

Xander and Spike collected their paraphernalia and deposited it in the living room.

"I don't see who else is gonna' do it," Angel said, reasonably, still on the phone. "Besides, you don't know him like I do."

Angel spotted Spike. "I gotta' go. Yeah, I'll be back before morning." He hung up the phone.

Spike glared at Angel. "You still here?"

"Apparently."

"Don't you have some helpless poofters to save somewhere?"

"I don't see why we need an ice chest," Xander said.

Spike turned away from Angel and shrugged. "Probably just to carry stuff."

"We could've got it in a paper bag," Xander said, gesturing at the ice chest.

Buffy and Joyce joined them. "When will you be back, honey?" Buffy asked.

"Won't take long, luv." A peculiar feeling hit him and he shook his head.

"You okay?" Xander asked. "'Cause, we gotta' get moving."

"Yeah," he said, uncertainly.

Angel blinked several times and took an unsteady step back.

Buffy shook her head, then glanced uncertainly around the room.

Unheeding of everyone's perplexity, Xander headed for the door.

"Buffy. . . ?" Joyce said, a baffled look on her face.

Spike picked up the last of their items and made for the door. Xander looked back, expectantly, as Spike hesitated.

He stood behind Buffy for a second, then leaned around and kissed her softly on the neck.

Buffy froze.

"Love you, pet," he whispered.

"Giles?" Willow asked. "Please, tell me you can see."

Giles cast his gaze around the room, taking in everything, then settled on Willow and Anya. "Yes."

Willow let out a sigh. "I am so sorry, Giles. . . ."

He held up a hand. "Let's discuss it later, Willow. Right now we need to see how everyone else is." He turned and headed out of the room.

Anya glanced at Willow. "If you're thinking of apologizing to me, I don't forgive you. Just so you know."

Carl paced in front of the church, the goo from his horns dripping all over his shoes and the gravel drive. Larry came up behind him, tugging a reluctant sponge demon.

"He's ready," Larry said.

Carl turned and looked the sponge demon over. "He doesn't look ready."

"I'm ready," he said. He sounded agitated.

Carl peered at him. "Where's your axe?"

"Got it," he said, patting his chest. "Wanna' see -?"

"No!" Carl and Larry shouted in unison.

The sponge demon jumped back. "So . . . um . . . should I hide or what?"

"No, just stick with 'em when he gets here," Larry said. "They gotta' know we mean business."

Spike and Xander strolled through the park, carrying the ice chest between them.

"So, I'm not buying this 'not all demons are bad' thing," Xander said.

Spike smirked. "That's just like the lot of you."

"What's that mean?"

"You got a prejudice against anything that isn't you."

Xander stopped, jerking Spike back a pace as he kept a hold of the ice chest. "That's not true!"

"Is so."

"Is not."

"Prove it."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

Spike shrugged and tugged on the cooler. They started walking.

Xander glowered at the ground. After a minute, he said, "Demons don't count."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Who says they don't?"

"Who says they do?"

"Hey, I don't have to prove somethin' here, mate. You do."

"Do not."

"Do to. . . ."

"Well, it seems to have worked," Giles said, looking relieved.

Buffy was standing in a corner, fuming. Angel was trying to placate her.

"It wasn't your fault, Buffy."

"I know that." She stopped and rolled her eyes. "Kissing Spike all night was just . . . just. . . ."

"Disgusting?"

"That's not a strong enough word."

"Revolting?"

"Worse."

"I'll keep trying."

"And the way he kissed my neck on the way out?" she said, appalled. "Like he was still spell-doped. What was that?"

"Well, maybe it just took a little longer. . . ."

"He's playing with me, that's what," Buffy said, jabbing a finger at Angel. "He's got some evil, nasty Spike plan. . . ."

Angel looked unsure. "I don't know, Buff. Spike's not all that good at evil plans."

She gaped at him. "Are you defending him?"

Angel backed up. "No, no. Just making the point that Spike's ability to make a plan and stick to it is about as probable as keeping his attention during a Barry Manilow concert."

Giles approached. "Buffy, I don't want you to chastise yourself over this. It wasn't your fault."

"I told her," Angel said.

Giles nodded. "Do you know where Xander and Spike went?"

"What?"

"They're gone."

Spike and Xander were stopped and arguing in the middle of a deserted street. The ice chest was on the ground between them.

"So, you're tellin' me they just sit around watching TV all day, snackin' on beer and Twinkies. . . ."

Spike made a face. "That's disgusting."

Xander persisted. ". . .and not making evil plans to open the Hellmouth?"

"Why would they?" Spike picked up his end of the ice chest. "You think they'd rather work for some evil beasty thing that crawls outta' the Hellmouth and doesn't have a pension plan, or work at K-Mart as a night watchman?"

Xander stared at him, unable to think of a response.

Spike shook his end of the chest meaningfully and Xander picked up his end.

"Okay," Xander said, "I can believe that some demons might not wanna' do evil things. They tend to get staked for that. . . ."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Doin' it again."

"What?"

"Did it ever occur to you that they might not WANT to be evil?"

"No."

"See? You're biased."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not. . . ."

"I can't believe that no one knows where they are," Giles said, perturbed.

Everyone was assembled in the living room, going over everything they'd heard Spike and Xander say during the night.

Buffy said, "They were gonna' take care of this demon problem."

"They asked me something about a suppression spell," Giles said.

The room was quiet for several seconds.

"You don't think Xander's gonna' let them do a spell on him, do you, Giles?" Buffy asked.

Everyone stared at Giles. "We need to find them," he said.

"I can do a locator spell," Willow offered.

Buffy, Giles and Anya turned exasperated looks on her.

"Fine, but I still say all vampires are evil."

Spike shook his head.

Xander looked astonished, "Vampires maim and kill innocent people every night."

Spike groaned. "We don't maim people."

"Huh?"

"What'd be the point in that?"

"There's no point. You're evil."

"I am not -." Spike stopped. "I mean, I AM evil."

Xander gave him a disdainful look. "So, vamps don't enjoy preying on the innocent and drinking their blood?"

"Yeah, they do."

"Proving my point."

Spike looked offended. "It's what we do. We gotta' eat."

"You drink BLOOD . . . of the INNOCENT."

Spike stopped and stared at him angrily. "What would you tell a cow just before you roasted it over an open flame?"

"Nothing," Xander said, impatiently. "It's a cow."

Spike raised his eyebrows.

"Are you saying we're cows?"

"No." He started walking again. "More like antelope. Cows aren't that nimble."

"I can't believe I hired a girl to jump out of a cake for him," Angel said, shaking his head.

The group, minus Joyce, was walking through the park. As no one felt comfortable with Willow doing even the simplest of spells, they decided to have Angel follow Spike's scent.

"You did what?" Buffy asked, appalled. "That is so tacky."

"It would've been tasteful."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm so sure Spike would've liked tasteful."

"He's actually not that hard to please, you know."

Buffy groaned. "I can't believe I was kissing Spike all night."

Angel shuddered. "And I can't believe this smell."

"And what's with the romantic 'be back later, honey' routine on the way out the door?"

"It's like rotting flesh with . . . with a little mildew thrown in."

"He's rubbing it in, that's what," Buffy said. "And he's so gonna' pay for that."

"Nobody should have to put up with this stink."

Buffy shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't wanna' think about what might have happened if we hadn't got this thing reversed."

Angel put his arm over his nose and mouth. "Actually, it's more like someone's cooking a big slab of liver and onions. . . ."

Buffy glanced at him. "What? I can't understand you with your arm over your mouth."

Behind them, Giles and Anya were talking. "A suppression spell is very bad," Giles said. "It's like putting a cork on a bottle of champagne, then shaking it up repeatedly. Eventually, it will pop."

Anya frowned. "So, you're saying there could be bursting?"

"Yes."

"Involving Xander?"

"Yes, well . . . I doubt he will explode . . .personally, but the magic they're suppressing will eventually erupt." Giles looked disturbed at the mental picture that conjured up. "I don't really know what will happen."

Anya frowned. "I don't want my boyfriend spewing magic with no warning. It's alarming and people will stare."

"I doubt they'll have time to stare if they're running for cover."

"This could jeopardize my social life."

"You think she wants to keep slayin'?" Spike asked.

"Huh?"

"You know, after we're married?"

Xander looked shocked. "Um . . . well, I know she's been upset about having to stay and guard the Hellmouth, especially when she wanted to go away to college."

"She did?"

"Yeah, but she decided she needed to stay here."

Spike considered that for a minute. "I could do the slayin' for her and she could go to school."

"How? You have a chip in your head that zaps you when you give someone a dirty look."

"I'm gonna' get this fixed," he said, determinedly, pointing at his head. "Once that's not a problem, I can deal with any nasties that turn up." Spike shrugged. "And, if I can't get it out, well . . . I'll just deal with it."

"How?"

"A good jolt every few minutes for awhile and eventually I'll get used to the pain."

Xander looked stunned. "You mean you'd. . .?" He stopped and took a breath. He was bonding with Spike and that had to stop. It someone else saw him. . . . Well, that wasn't likely since no one still in their right mind could. He said, "That's a lot to do for someone you hated just yesterday."

"Never said I hated her."

Xander stared. "Now that is just not something I wanted to hear."

"Why?" Spike snorted. "It's this whole 'all demons are evil thing' again, isn't it?"

"Vampires are."

"Yeah, they're a real scourge on the world, aren't they? Mostly killin' off bums and druggies that don't run so fast. . . ."

"I thought vamps liked the chase."

"We do, but sometimes we like to eat early then watch movies all night."

"What?" Xander said. Spike was clubbing in the head all his ideas about the undead and he didn't like it.

Spike went on, unhearing. "Chasin' a druggy is like goin' after a startled turtle - it's upset, but can't get too far. Regular people, though, that's like chasin' a scared chicken. All the cluckin' and flappin' and runnin' around in circles. . . ." He sighed in remembrance. "Makes it hard to get to a movie before the previews start, you know? And usually that's the best part."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this. . . ." Xander mumbled.

Spike stopped, forcing Xander to also.

"Look," Spike said, awkwardly, "I need a best man, so . . . uh. . . ."

Xander gave him an unencouraging look.

"Anyway, Buffy thinks you should do it," Spike finished quickly.

Xander's jaw dropped open.

"Not like I want you to," Spike said, defensively.

Xander continued to stare.

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "Anyway, there's no one else and I'd jam a dull stake through my chest before I'd let the poofter do it."

"I could do that for you," Xander said, agreeably.

Spike looked annoyed. "Well, if my life ever gets that depressing I'll keep it in mind."

"You mean it isn't now?"

"This is why you only know four people, you know," Spike said, jabbing a finger at him. "Making friends is an art."

"And where'd you get your diploma, Spike? The Salvador Dali Academy?"

"Just because I don't have any doesn't mean I couldn't make 'em. I got charm and over a hundred years of social skills."

Xander decided to let that go and instead said, "Don't you have any demon friends?"

"Vamps don't mix with other demons. They think we're inferior. Bunch of soddin' purists, that's what they are. . . ." he mumbled.

"How 'bout other vamps then?"

"We don't make friends." Spike shrugged. "Not master vampires, anyway. Can't go socializing with the help."

"Oh, now who's the prejudiced one?"

"Anya, I can't say that your former boss -."

"D'Hoffran."

"Yes. I can't say he was very helpful tonight."

"He doesn't like to give advice, especially when it might do something good. He is a vengeance demon, you know. He thrives on chaos."

"And why the cryptic message?"

"Well, I thought it meant something. I assumed you would figure it out."

"It wasn't remotely helpful."

"I know that now," she said, rolling her eyes. "I think he's still punishing me for being careless." She thought about it. "Or, he was just making a statement. The smell is reaching into his dimension, you know."

Giles stopped. "What?"

She nodded. "He said it's already started a war in a couple others. Each side thinks the other's responsible."

Giles looked stunned. "I had no idea. . . ."

"Demons are very sensitive to taste and smell. Take the Trojan War for instance -."

"You were there?"

"No, but I have reliable sources. Anyway, it wasn't Helen's beauty that launched a thousand ships. It was her smell."

"What?" Giles asked. "That's preposterous."

"She was a demon," Anya said, self-assured. "But the spell she was using to look human and unnaturally beautiful was wearing off. The side effect was this unbelievable stench that had men throwing themselves off cliffs. . . ."

Spike and Xander stood in the remains of the driveway, staring at the edifice.

The church was old and abandoned, probably due to the obvious fire the place had sustained. Most of the walls and part of the roof were caved in.

"Over here," someone called.

They turned to see Larry waving at them.

Spike and Xander exchanged a quick look, then stalked across to the church.

"You got the stuff?" Larry asked.

"Yeah," Spike said, gesturing at the ice chest.

"Let's get inside. The others are waiting."

A short, round chaos demon ran up and stopped in front of Larry. He looked agitated.

"What now?" Larry asked.

"Some of the guys are ducking out the back -." He broke off, gagging. He started shaking uncontrollably, bits of goo splattering a startled Spike and Xander, then fell to his knees and toppled sideways.

Larry knelt over him. After a brief examination he looked up and said, "They're droppin' like flies. We gotta' hurry."

"Do you want me to kill him?" Angel asked.

"What?" Buffy asked.

Angel removed his arm from his mouth and said, quickly, "Spike. You want me to kill him?"

"No. I'll handle it."

"Buffy -."

"I mean it. No macho ex-boyfriend-running-to-the-rescue bit. Got it?"

Unwilling to move his arm again, Angel nodded.

Giles was walking a few paces behind Buffy and Angel, and talking to Willow.

"You should never attempt any type of spell when you're emotionally unstable," he said.

"You think I'm unstable?" Willow asked, mortified.

"Well, perhaps not unstable," he revised. "But, you should never do spells when you're upset."

Anya said, "Amateurs aren't supposed to do spells without a mentor, anyway. It's like a rookie trying to negotiate with bank robbers. They'll probably get all the hostages killed and let the crooks get away with the money."

Before Willow could reply, Angel said, "I think this is it." He bent over and, hands on his knees, steadied himself.

"You okay?" Buffy asked, putting a hand on his back.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy."

"Well, stop breathing."

"I have. But it's like getting hit in the face with pepper spray. It takes a minute."

"Well, stay here," she said. "I'll yell if I need someone to sweep Spike up."

Buffy and Giles cautiously pushed open the door to the church, then stood transfixed at the sight before them.

Xander was sitting in the baptismal tank, naked, with demons pouring honey on him. A chaos demon was standing behind the tank, reading in a monotone from the spell book. A sponge demon was standing beside him, holding an axe, while an apathetic audience of demons were scattered around the floor, moaning and holding their noses. Spike was slouched on a pew, perusing a weathered-looking document.

"In all my years. . . ." Giles began, shaking his head, but Buffy cut him off.

"What's going on here!" she shouted.

Everyone in the room jumped, startled, and turned to look.

"Slayer!" one of the demons choked out weakly.

"Buffy!" Xander and Spike said. Spike jumped to his feet and rushed toward her.

Buffy ignored him. "Xander, what are you doing?"

Xander looked embarrassed. "Um . . . they're doing a spell to make the stink go away. . . ."

Giles said, "That's not necessary, Xander -."

"Buffy," Spike said, pulling her away. "We gotta' let 'em finish, luv."

"Why? And don't call me that."

Spike looked hurt. "Um . . . okay."

Xander spoke up. "I signed a contract, Buff."

Spike cautiously handed her the document. She stared at him in astonishment while Giles plucked it from her hands and read over it. After a minute, he looked up and said, "I seriously doubt whether it will hold up in court, Xander, so why don't you -."

"Hey!" Larry said. "It's legal and we can enforce it."

"Really?" Buffy said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You think that piece of paper gives you rights of some kind?"

"Well . . . yeah."

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"It's okay, Buff," Xander said. "We're almost done."

"I can't believe you're letting them do this to you," she said, moving up next to the vat.

"Hey! Naked in here!" Xander shouted. He slopped honey on the floor in his haste to cover himself.

Buffy averted her eyes. "Where are your clothes?"

"Burned."

"What?"

"Had to. They were tainted."

Buffy rolled her eyes. The sponge demon next to them brought his free hand into view. "Sandwich?" he asked, holding it up to Buffy.

She looked revolted.

"It's ham and cheese," he said.

"Hey," Xander said, craning his neck to look at the demon. "You got any chips? I haven't eaten all night."

"Sorry," the demon replied, biting into his sandwich. "They get kinda' broken."

Buffy stared at them, unable to speak.

Giles cleared his throat. "May I see this spell?"

Larry looked concerned for a second, then motioned to Carl. Giles climbed the steps and stood next to the chaos demon, who willingly handed him the book, pointing at the spell.

Xander, just noticing Giles' lack of blindness, said, "You can see?"

"Yes. We reversed the spell twenty minutes ago."

Realization slowly crept up on Xander. "Hey, that means. . . ."

Larry said, "Doesn't mean you don't have to finish the ritual."

"But, there's no demon magnet spell anymore," Xander protested. "Which means we can lift the repel spell."

"Let's not be hasty," Giles said. "Let me read over this first."

Xander groaned.

Giles moved away, taking the contract and spell book with him, and sat on the nearest pew and started to read.

Spike came up behind Buffy and tugged on her arm.

"They're still a bit antsy, pet," Spike said, gesturing at the demons in the room. "Better stay back."

Buffy looked at him, stunned.

Taking advantage of her momentary silence, Spike dug into his pocket and handed Buffy a piece of paper.

"Wrote this for you, luv." He looked at the ground, embarrassed. "Hope you like it."

Buffy grasped the paper in shock and looked at it. It read, 'My Effulgent Slayer.'

She was momentarily distracted with wondering what effulgent meant, and when she looked up Spike was leaning over the tub, talking to Xander.

Xander groaned in annoyance and eventually said, "Spike wants me to be his best man, Buff." He shook his head and stared at the remains of the ceiling. "If it comes to it I'll. . . ." He frowned, considering. "Hey, wait a minute. . . ."

Spike looked expectantly at her. "That okay with you, luv . . . uh, Buffy?"

Buffy found her voice. "Spike, we are not -."

"What's going on?" Willow said. She and Anya moved to join Buffy and Spike.

"Hey!" Xander said. "Approaching a bare-naked zone! Stay back!"

Willow turned red and came to an abrupt halt.

Anya did, too, with a little less enthusiasm. Angel came in behind them, and stared.

"We could have it here if you want, luv," Spike said, gesturing at the church. "It's kinda' run down, but it's a church all the same. And, the guys could come."

"Guys?"

"Uh . . . yeah," Spike said, unsure how she would take it. "Larry and the others wanna' come. I told 'em I'd have to ask you, but. . . ."

Buffy gazed in horror around the building. Her eyes came to rest on the two sponge demons near the door. They were standing like pillars, a glazed look in their eyes, and swaying slightly.

Buffy turned away from Spike, the poem still clutched in her hand. She fixed her gaze on Giles.

"Buffy, are you all right?" he asked.

"I . . . I . . . ."

"Pet?" Spike reached a hand to her arm.

She shrugged out of his grip.

"I need air," she said, abruptly, and stalked toward the door.

Spike and Xander stared after her, then looked at each other.

"Pre-wedding jitters," Spike said, worriedly.

Xander stared at him. "Spike, I think there's something you should know -." He stopped, realizing what he was saying.

"What?" Spike asked.

Xander grinned. "Never mind."

"Oh, I've seen this spell before," Anya said, reading over Giles' shoulder. She looked at Larry. "Molasses works better."

"Couldn't get enough."

Anya nodded. "Well, honey's a good substitute in a pinch."

Angel and Willow looked at each other, then at the tableau before them.

"This is like the weirdest thing I've ever seen," Angel said.

Outside, Buffy paced under the moonlight, taking deep breaths, and muttering under her breath. After a minute, she calmed. She stopped and threw her head back, gazing at the stars.

She remembered the paper in her hands and looked at it.

"You have to do this every week for two months?" Giles asked, incredulously.

Xander shrugged. He was up to his armpits in honey. "Unless you say we can stop." He looked hopefully at Giles. "So, what's the word?"

Giles said, "This is more of a dampening spell than a suppression spell."

"Meaning?"

"It will mitigate the effects of the repellent spell until it's completely gone. Meaning, you're doing in a roundabout way what a reversal spell would have done in less than a minute."

"So, can we stop then?" Xander asked.

"I don't think that's wise. You're well into the spell now and, as I said, it's basically a poor man's reversal spell. It's best to keep going."

"Spike!" Buffy screamed.

Spike turned toward her voice and Xander leaned forward to peer around him.

"What is this?" she asked, marching toward him, holding the paper high.

Spike looked mortified. "You don't like it?"

She stopped next to Willow who snatched it from her hand. She read it then glanced at Spike. He looked at the floor.

"Let's hear it, Wil," Xander said.

"Hey, no," Spike said.

"Fair's fair," Xander replied. "Besides, I think I should get something out of this night."

Willow gave Buffy a brief look, but she seemed dazed, so Willow brought the poem up, cleared her throat, and read,

"Silken tresses from a faerie's loom,

quicken my heart and fashion my doom.

Honeydew eyes and saffron skin,

a siren song and Cheshire grin.

On sacred ground, our moonlit dance,

I bare my chest and await your lance.

My final death I give to thee,

my deadly, sweet, slayer of me."

The silence in the room was morgue-like in quality. Eventually, Xander said, "Not really generic, is it?"

Spike didn't answer. He was feeling the weight of humiliation. He sagged against the tank and looked at the floor. Why did he keep writing poetry that always ended up being read in front of people who despised him? It was some kind of curse. He'd just started wondering if his father had incautiously opened a tomb in his younger days when he heard Angel say,

"That wasn't bad. You're getting better, Spike."

Forgetting his embarrassment, Spike said, angrily, "Got a literature degree in your spare time, did you?"

"Hey," Angel said, holding up his hands, "I'm just saying it could've been worse." He considered. "Actually, I'm surprised it wasn't."

"I think it was nice," Willow said.

"Wil," Buffy said, aghast.

She looked uncomfortable. "Well, it was." She glanced at Spike, then back to Buffy. "I wish someone would write poetry for me."

Unable to take anything more, Buffy whirled on Spike and said, "We are not getting married, Spike."

Spike looked shocked. "Pet -."

"You disgust me, Spike, and no amount of poetry is going to turn you into Prince Charming."

Everyone was silent again, only this time all eyes were on Buffy.

"Wow," Carl said, after a minute, "that was harsh."

"Yeah, Buff," Xander said. "Ouch."

Buffy looked around the room, noticing that everyone was staring at her, the demons in abject dread, and most everyone else in shocked embarrassment. Giles just looked like he wanted to go home. Willow looked upset.

"What!" Buffy said, throwing her arms in the air.

Willow looked at Spike, then at Buffy. Buffy frowned and glanced at Spike. He was staring at the floor, the picture of crushed despair on his face.

Buffy's jaw dropped open. She turned slowly to Angel, who looked uncomfortable. She looked back at Spike.

"Spike?" Buffy asked. "If this is some evil plan, maybe now would be a good time to spring it on me." She waited, folding her arms over her chest.

Spike looked up, confusion and hurt on his face.

Buffy faltered. She looked at Xander. He shrugged.

"Wedding spell's over, Spike," Buffy said, casually.

A startled look crossed Spike's face and he glanced at everyone in the room. They remained quiet, not wanting to say anything that might make the situation more unbearable than it already was.

After a minute, Spike said, hoarsely, "I knew that."

Buffy smirked. "Really? Because -."

Willow hit her in the arm.

"Ow!" She glared at Willow. "What?"

Willow raised her eyebrows at her. "I think enough mean things have been said by everyone tonight to last us until next year."

Buffy looked shocked. "Are you defending Spike?" she asked, incredulously.

Willow shifted from foot to foot. "Well, I'm just saying. . . ."

"He's soulless and evil, Wil -."

Xander cleared his throat. "Prejudice much, Buff?"

"Excuse me?"

Larry walked up to Xander and started pouring the cooking sherry in the tub.

"I'm just saying that not all demons spend their time makin' evil plans," Xander said. "Some of 'em like to watch TV, you know. Eat corn dogs and work at K-Mart. . . ." He looked uncomfortable at Buffy's obvious stupefaction. He mumbled, "I'm just saying. . . ."

Carl poured the last of the honey on Xander.

". . . that not all of 'em are evil," Xander finished.

"Okay, boys," Carl said, "light 'em up!"

Larry and the sponge demon struck their matches in unison.

"What!" Xander jumped to his feet. The honey effectively clung to every part of his body, but it still left little to the imagination.

Willow and Buffy screamed and turned around.

Anya stared at Xander, wide-eyed, until Carl pushed him back down into the tub. He dunked his head under the honeyed surface and stepped back. The matches sailed through the air and landed in the honey, which, due to the alcoholic content of the sherry, erupted in a brilliant display.

"Hey!" Spike said, severely, "you didn't say anything about a cookout." He pushed Carl away and reached into the tank. The fire immediately leapt up and caught his arm on fire. Spike plucked Xander's head up like an oversized apple, then stepped back.

Buffy elbowed her way through, pushing Spike aside, and helped Xander out of the vat.

She studied the tub and the fire. It was sputtering out as the alcohol burned off. "Xand, you okay?"

He spluttered. "Yeah, think so."

"Did it burn you?"

"No. I think the honey protected me."

"That's what it was for," Carl said, handing him a robe.

Xander looked at him. "You couldn't have mentioned the flambee routine before?"

Carl looked absently at him. "Didn't think it mattered."

Willow let out a little scream and Buffy turned around.

Spike was cursing and beating his arm against the wall, which promptly caught fire.

That galvanized everyone in the room. Angel and Giles raced across to Spike, taking off their jackets as they did. When they reached Spike, they started beating at the flames.

"Take off the coat, Spike!" Angel yelled, trying to help him.

Spike tried to shrug out of his duster, but only succeeded in getting it down to his elbows before the fire leapt across his chest and to his other arm. He started howling.

"Why is he still on fire?" Buffy asked, horrified.

"The alcohol," Giles said.

"What?"

Larry held up the empty bottle of sherry. "Sorry."

Buffy turned back to Spike, eyes wide.

"And, the fact that vampires are extremely flammable isn't helping either," Giles said, beating at Spike's arm.

Angel grabbed Spike and tried to get the coat off him.

Buffy glanced around the church, panicked, trying to find something to put out the fire.

"Dunk him in the vat!" Anya yelled. She and Willow were batting at the flames on the wall and had them nearly out.

Buffy acted immediately. She dived across the room, pushed Angel and Giles aside, and grabbed Spike in a bear hug. The fire engulfed both of them.

"Buffy!" Angel shouted.

She didn't have far to go and one lunge carried her to the tank. They toppled into it and the fire was quickly swallowed. Buffy and Spike sank to the bottom, arms locked around each other.

Seconds of shocked silence descended on the group, then Giles dashed for the tub. He thrust an arm in and reached Buffy just as she was pushing herself up.

"Are you all right?" Giles asked.

She looked disgusted. "Aside from feeling like a sticky bun, yeah, I guess so."

"Were you badly burned?" he asked, as she got to her knees.

"Singed, I think."

"How's Spike?" Willow asked.

Buffy, Giles and Angel reached into the tank, grabbed Spike, and hauled him up.

Buffy leaned back in the confined space and surveyed Spike. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Slightly dazed, he glanced around the room, then settled his gaze on Buffy. His eyes roamed her honey-covered body.

"Bloody hell," he said with feeling. "Didn't know you had a sweet tooth, Slayer," he said, smirking at her.

"Spike, you're a pig," she said, and pushed him back under the surface.

Buffy stood and Giles and Angel helped her out.

Giles looked at Larry and Carl. "Are we finished here?" he asked.

The demons looked at each other and took a deep, pleasurable breath. "Guess so."

"Excellent."

"But, they gotta' come back next week."

"Yes, we're well aware of the requirements of your . . . ah . . . contract."

Outside, the group assembled in the driveway. Giles looked them over sternly.

"Do I need to make the speech about responsibility and restraint. . .?" He looked at Willow and she looked at her shoes. ". . .or using prudence and good judgement. . .?" He stared pointedly at Spike and Xander. Spike rolled his eyes and looked away. Xander gave him a sheepish look. Giles continued. ". . .and how we're never going to speak of this day again?"

The gang shook their heads.

"Fine." He started to walk, but stopped and turned to Spike. "Do we need to tie you up?"

Spike looked disgusted. "Where would I go?"

"Right then," Giles said, briskly. "Don't stray."

Angel looked Spike up and down, obviously preparing a threat. "Spike. . . ." he started, but appeared to reconsider. He sighed in resignation, shook his head, and followed Giles.

Buffy and Spike stood awkwardly, honey dripping off their bodies and pooling on the ground at their feet.

Spike stared at her in obvious admiration.

Buffy looked up. "What?"

"Uh . . . nothin'."

"You were staring."

"No . . . I was . . . uh. Okay, I was. Can't help it." He gestured at her. "What do you expect . . . lookin' like that?"

"Spike," Buffy said, icily, "I don't want your evil, nasty eyes looking anywhere near me. Ever again!" She shook her arms in disgust, splattering honey on him. "Got it?"

"What makes you think I'd want to look at you anyway?" He said, angrily. "Having you kissin' and gropin' all over me all night is somethin' I gotta' live with for the rest of my life." He made a face. "I'll probably never get a good day's sleep again."

"Well, that'll be two of us having nightmares, Spike." She turned and stomped off after Giles and Angel.

Spike followed.

They walked in silence for several minutes, Spike staring at the ground in mortification, but trying to hide it, and Buffy fuming and hurling honey from her limbs with violent abandon.

A minute later, she stopped abruptly and Spike nearly ran into her.

"Sorry, luv," he mumbled.

"What?"

"What?" He looked at her, puzzled.

"What did you call me?"

He looked startled. "I said, 'watch where you're goin', Slayer."

She frowned at him in obvious disbelief. Deciding not to press it, she said, "You're the one who ran into me, Spike."

"Yeah, and you're the one who stopped suddenly."

"Well, you -!"

"Why don't you -!"

They stopped and glared at each other.

Eventually, Spike said, "Did you want somethin', Slayer?"

She sighed. "Just wondering what your evil plan was, that's all."

"Huh?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Pretending to still be in love with me? What were you going to do, Spike? Did you think you could somehow win me over?"

"Well. . . ." A pained look crossed his face as he tried to reason his way out.

"Maybe get me to actually go out with you?" she asked, incredulously.

Spike was racing ahead of her, trying to formulate an evil plan out of what she was saying.

"Worm your way in with my friends. . . ."

Spike brightened. There was a good plan in there somewhere. "Um. . . ."

"Get them to accept you. . . ."

'Not so hard,' Spike thought.

". . .and us. . . ."

'A little harder. . . .'

". . . convince me to marry you. . . ."

'Trickier still, but possible. What's the punchline, though?

"Then kill me on the honeymoon?"

Spike jumped, startled, a horrified look on his face. "I wouldn't -."

Her eyebrows arched, questioningly.

Spike recovered quickly and smirked. "Well . . . yeah."

Buffy gave him the look she reserved especially for him and said, "That's it?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it woulda' had more flair," he said, smugly.

Buffy sighed and glanced skyward in scorn. "Angel was right. You can't make evil plans."

"What?"

She turned on her heel and stalked away.

Spike followed. "I bloody well can too!"

"Right. That one would've taken you years."

He snorted. "Not the way you were hanging all over me."

"That was the spell. And if you mention it again we'll be sprinkling your remains over a cricket field somewhere."

Spike grinned. "You care enough to give me a decent burial, Slayer? I'm touched."

"In the head. . . ."

Behind them, Xander and Anya walked.

"I can't tell you how I need to get this honey off of me," Xander said in revulsion.

"Xander," Anya said, after a minute, "I want you to write me a poem."

A shocked look crossed his face. "What?"

"A poem."

Xander glanced around in desperation. "Poetry's not for everyone, you know."

"What's that mean?"

"It means I can't write poetry."

"It's easy," she said, waving a casual hand at him. "Just say nice things about my exquisite skin and radiant smile."

Xander looked at her. "Maybe you should write it."

Ahead of them, Buffy caught up to Willow.

"Oh, here," Willow said, handing her a piece of paper.

"What's this?" Buffy asked, taking it.

"Spike's poem," she said.

"Why do you think I'd want this?" she asked, disgusted. "It's not like I liked it or anything. . . ."

Willow nodded. "'Course not."

Buffy glanced at the poem. "I mean, a faerie's loom? What's that mean?"

"I like that part."

"And I don't have honeydew eyes."

"Spike thinks you do."

Buffy groaned and glanced at the paper again. "And, is he telling me to stake him?"

"I think he meant his heart belongs to you."

"His dead, soon-to-be-dusty heart."

"Or, maybe he's saying when it's his time, he wants it to be you?"

They walked in silence for a full minute, Buffy gently fingering the paper. "Maybe I should keep it," she said, quietly.

Willow nodded.

"You know, for when he's getting out of line," Buffy said, quickly.

"Right."

"He can be really obnoxious. . . ."

"Sure."

"If he knew I still had this. . . ."

"Uh-huh."

". . .make him sorry he ever wrote it. . . ."

They walked in silence for several more minutes. Buffy had an almost irresistible urge to read her poem again. No one had ever written poetry about her. Did she really have honeydew eyes? She glanced over her shoulder at Spike. He was walking with Xander and Anya, his head down, apparently not paying any attention to either of them or anyone else. Buffy looked uncertainly at the poem again, then folded it and gingerly put it in her pocket.

Spike looked up in time to see Buffy safely tuck his poem away. A pleased grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He noticed Xander giving him a sideways look.

"What?" he asked, defensively.

Xander rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Nothing."

Spike smirked. "You were right, you know," he admitted, "nothing rhymes with saffron."

The End