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Chapter 20:

"The two of us, we're not enough," Spike told her. "There's just too many vampires between us and the Master." She was about to break in with an objection so he hurried to continue, "But don't worry. I got a plan too. I'm going to take care of him. The thing is, I have minions now, they're part of the plan, and there's no way I could get them to fight with the Slayer."

"They will if I'm a vampire," Buffy said.

He laughed. "You're kidding, right? You're the Slayer! That can't be what you want."

It was too absurd a notion for him to take seriously. It was hardly the first time in his life he'd met a human who wanted to be a vampire, but normally those sorts of people were pathetic Anne Rice wannabes, who thought it was all dark, noble and tragic. He couldn't see his Slayer as one of them.

But she wasn't laughing; her face was serious.

"What I want?" she asked incredulous. "You're right, I'm the Slayer, what I want isn't important. I don't even know. . ." She shook her head, looking away from him. "All I know is, I don't know how to be the Slayer anymore. It's not just that I don't know who to trust, or being confused about. . . "

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, "I don't have a Watcher anymore, and the Council–it's not like they're going to send me another one now. My parents, it's not just that they think I'm crazy, it's that they don't believe me, it's that. . . if I'm living with them, I'm going to get them killed. Some demon will hold them hostage, or a vampire will follow me back to the house and they'll invite him in.

"And I can't do it on my own." She stopped, looking down at the floor as if she was ashamed. "They gave me this test, to see where I belonged in school . . . and I never went to school, Ms. Post taught me everything I know. I did really great on the reading, but on everything else. . . They said my math was only as good as a third grader, and I didn't know who the founding fathers are, or even what they founded. I mean . . . I know the Slayer's handbook backwards and forwards, and Latin, Greek, and two demon languages, and the history of Grishna'k wars. But none of that will help me get a job or take care of myself. And I'm scared."

Spike took advantage of the momentary pause in her ramblings to pull her into his arms and stroke her hair. She collapsed into him, grateful for the comfort until he whispered to her, "It'll be okay."

Then she pushed him away. "No, it's not," she insisted angrily. "I'm the Slayer. I can't be scared, not this scared anyway." She walked away from him, hugging herself tightly. "It never mattered before. I-I couldn't lose. I mean I could, but if I died, it just meant that another Slayer would be called, and there would be someone else to take over." She turned back to look at Spike, tears running down her cheeks. "But the Master changed all that. I can't go back to that cell. And if I slay, he'll find me, and if I don't, I'm just doing his work for him."

She hurried back to Spike and put her hands on his shoulders. He could feel her pulse trembling through the palms of her hands.

"But if you turn me, it won't matter any more. They'll be another slayer, and I can fight the Master, and not be scared, because . . . because he'll have no reason to lock me up."

"You'll be evil, are you really willing to do that?" Spike spoke without thinking.

Turning her was both everything he wanted, and something that terrified him. It had crossed his mind before, and not just when it would have been to save her life. But if he wasn't fully honest with her, if his expectations were too high, he was afraid she would end up like his mother. He was afraid that she would reject him when she opened her eyes on her new life. He couldn't bear that.

"I know," she sighed. "And that scared me some. I don't. . . I don't want to kill people. But when you think about it," she tried to sound positive, "there's hundreds, thousands of vampires in the world. One more doesn't make much difference. But there's only one Slayer. And if there isn't, that's a huge difference. I can't beat the Master the way I am, but if I were a vampire, I could make sure the slayer line was safe, that the next girl wouldn't have to worry about him. That's all the good that I'm sure of anymore." Then she paused, and looked at him seriously. "Unless. . . you don't want me."

"Oh baby," he cried, putting his arms back around her. "To be with you forever, I want it so bad." He tilted her head up so he could look her in the eyes, "I just need to know you really want this."

She sniffled and smiled at him and he brushed the tears off her cheeks. "I'll still like ice cream right? Cause there's this store that has thirty-one flavors, and I've only tried five."

He chuckled, "I still like food, so no reason to think you wouldn't too. That the only thing you want to know?"

She shrugged, "I know I'll still like you." Then her eyes went wide as a disturbing thought occurred to her. "You won't let me kill my parents, will you?"

"No, I promise, kitten. I won't let you hurt them. Except . . . your disappearing is going to be real hard on them, you know."

"I know, but it's better this way. I don't have to worry about the Council, or the Master, or anyone hurting them because of me now. It's better, really."

A silence fell between them then. Spike felt as if it were almost his duty to argue with her. To find reasons as to why she was wrong. He wanted her so badly, and was so scared that this would cause him to lose her. He couldn't bear that, not again. And the thought of seeing her dead–even if it were only temporary–sent a chill through him.

Finally she broke the silence.

"So are you going to kill me or what?"

"Well, not here." He straightened up and grabbed her hand pulling her out of the building. "Right, come on."

"Hey that's your old car," she said as she saw the Desoto.

"Yeah, well I'm not really hiding any more," he told her as they got inside the car.

"What if the Master finds you?" she asked.

"Oh, he already has. Sent a bunch of his minions to try and take me out. Killed most of them, the couple I thought I could trust I forced to join me. The thing is, the only way to get yourself a lot of minions without attracting notice is to turn them yourself, and I need better than fledglings." He reached over to squeeze her leg comfortingly. "Don't worry, kitten. I know what I'm doing and the minions, we'll need them, but they're mostly a distraction."

She nodded, and tried to stare out the window, except of course it had been painted over with black paint, so there wasn't much for her to look at. Spike reached over and put his arm around her, and she looked at him again and smiling shyly she snuggled into his arms.

After a few minutes of this he asked, "Aren't you going to ask me what the big master plan is?"

She looked up at him curiously, "You mean there really is a plan? Not like when you rescued me and kept pretending you had a plan?"

"What makes you think I didn't have all this planned?" he asked, indignant.

"Well, you could have warned me I was going to get shot," she said.

"I didn't mean. . ." he started in, before he glanced at her grinning face. "Are you trying to be funny?" he accused her.

"Not trying. I'm very funny I'll have you know."

He snorted. "According to who? Stick with your strengths, luv."

"Oh, and what are they?" she asked coyly.

Keeping his eyes, on the road, he reached down to take one of her hands, and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the palm. "Well, they mostly involve your hands, and that very strong grip of yours. Although, now that I think of it," he stopped to separate her index finger from its companions and suck it gently into his mouth. "You're pretty good with your mouth too."

She giggled, and pulled her hand away, snuggling back into his chest.

"Tell me it's going to be okay," she murmured softly.

"It's going to be okay, kitten. I promise," he reassured her.

Then he pulled his arm away from her so that he could turn the wheel. A few minutes later he was parked at the abandoned warehouse he'd co-opted for his new lair.

"Don't suppose acting is one of your skills?" he asked her.

She let him go and looked at him questioningly.

"If we just walk in there, with you healthy and hale, we'll have a fight on our hands. We'd win of course," he said smiling. "But then I'd have to go find more minions."

He reached out and gently stroked the scars he'd left on her neck. "I'll just take a little, but I need you to act like you're too drained to fight back. Can you do that, pet?"

She nodded, her smile gone. Then she leaned forward, tilting her head to better expose her neck to him.

Spike started towards her, then he changed his mind and leaned back. He put one finger under her chin and lifted her face until she was looking him in the eye. As soon as he had her hazel eyes locked in his blue ones, he vamped. She didn't so much as blink, but still he felt compelled to ask, "Are you sure? We go in there, and getting you out alive will be a bitch."

She knelt on the seat so that she could lean forward, and kiss the ridges on his forehead.

"I'm sure," she said, but Spike could hear a slight tremor in her voice.





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