Disclaimer & Author's Note: The usual.

Previously: The Haunting possessed Buffy the morning after she and Spike made love and said all sorts of nasty things to Spike. It then possessed Spike and plans to make him it's new host. Dawn and Rick are trapped in the temple with a deranged Laura Danvers, the Haunting's current host. Eustacia Collins, Siggy, and Veronica are preparing to cast the spell that will banish the Haunting to a prison dimension...only they're not aware that the spell won't work as long as the Haunting's possessing Spike. Oh, and Buffy's finally tracked Spike down in the sitting room in order to try to reason with him about what happened. And so we continue...

"Spike?" Buffy stepped nervously into the sitting room, her body tensed and her eyes never leaving the form of her lover for an instant. "Can you hear me?"

"You didn't scream for me that loudly, luv," he countered with a nasty grin. "Hearin's still fully intact." He stepped from behind the piano bench and began to circle the room slowly, keeping in perfect counterpoint with her own movements.

"Spike, the Haunting's controlling you," she informed him matter-of-factly. Brief surprise passed through her when she realized that his eyes didn't have the characteristic red glow that had identified the Haunting's presence in the past, but she shook it off. Their foe had obviously developed a way around that since if Spike had seen the red in her eyes that afternoon, he obviously wouldn't have fallen for that trick. "Are you listening to me?" she repeated.

"Funny thing," he cocked his head to one side, nose scrunched up in a look of distaste as he studied her. "Spent all this time thinkin' I wanted you, y'know? That I was in love with you. But now that I really think about it... All I ever wanted was to see you dead." His eyes narrowed to angry blue slits.

Buffy took a deep breath and shut her eyes for a second. "Spike," she continued to plead with him, "William. You've got to fight this thing. I know it's hard, and I know you're mad, but it's using you, manipulating you. All those awful things I said to you...it wasn't me. It controlled me just like it's doing to you now, and if you don't fight it... Please, baby," her voice shook slightly. "I need you back. I love you..."

An angry bark of laughter escaped his lips. "Now, where've I heard that before?" he taunted her. "Somethin' about me bein' a whore to be bought with pretty words?"

"That wasn't me," Buffy insisted vehemently, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Oh no," he retorted sarcastically, "'course it wasn't you. Bet 'You're an evil, disgusting thing' wasn't you, either. Or how about 'You're beneath me'?" He took a prowling step towards her, his eyes glinting yellow in the twilight and indicating just how close to shifting he was. "Never your fault, is it, Slayer?" he growled. "Always the demon that's to blame."

"That part was my fault," Buffy admitted, "but that was a long time ago, and—"

"'m just s'posed to forget it?" he retorted. "Forgive you like a good li'l puppy-dog?"

"You're not a dog," she insisted vehemently, "and you don't have to forgive me. But this morning you said—"

"What makes you think I wasn't lyin' to you?" he retorted with a snarl. "Maybe I wanted a li'l free action, too. Never occurred to you, huh?" He smirked at the stricken expression on her face. "Told you back then, I did. No lay out there anywhere near as good as a Slayer."

"You're not saying this," she informed him, her own temper rising. "The Haunting's inside you, and it's—"

"Who was inside who earlier, though?" he taunted her, tongue flicking up beneath his teeth. "Seemed to enjoy it, too, as I recall. This li'l Slayer just begs for the vampires to sink their teeth into her..."

Buffy reflexively reached for the newest scar on her throat, covering it with her fingers.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" Spike countered with a knowing smirk. "Might wanna cover up the other side, too, luv. Nasty scars over there."

Buffy let out an annoyed sigh and dropped her hand from her throat. "I'm not getting through to you, am I?" she said wearily.

"Looks like you've let half the Masters on the planet have a taste," he continued, almost close enough to touch now, head cocked to one side as he studied the white scar tissue on her neck. "A delectable treat, you are..." His tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

"Spike," she said in a warning tone, "stop it."

A wry laugh. "Or you'll what?" he countered. One tentative hand reached out for her, but she refused to flinch as it brushed softly against her hair before coming to rest on her cheek. A satisfied grin lit up his face at her lack of resistance. "You won't do a thing to me," he said confidently, his thumb brushing over her lower lip in a sensual caress.

Involuntarily, Buffy's eyes fluttered shut at the sudden, unexpected gentleness. "Spike..." she breathed out.

"You want me," he stated simply.

"Yes," she agreed with a little sigh, opening her eyes...and letting out a startled cry when he growled in response, and his gentle fingers turned to razor-sharp claws against her skin. She leapt back with a fighter's instincts and reached up to touch the bloody scratches that now lined her cheek.

Spike, meanwhile, has transformed completely into game face, feral yellow eyes honed in on his prey. "Then which one of us is the whore, really?" he countered malevolently.

"It doesn't have to be like this," Buffy insisted, wary now. Her feet naturally moved into a fighting stance, even as her heart cried out against the wrong-ness of it all. He was so close, and she just wanted to hold him and love him, not get caught up in the Haunting's manipulations. "Please, Spike..."

"Actually, it has to be exactly like this," he countered, crouched down and body tensed to pounce. "We've always known it, Slayer. Sooner or later one of us 'll kill the other. Was only a matter of time, really. And right about now, your time has just run out..."

"Are we ready?" Siggy asked anxiously, eyeing the red light that reflected throughout the entire lodge with a shiver.

Eustacia Collins lit the final candle and nodded. "I don't know what the Haunting's up to right now, but I recommend we hurry."

"Veronica?" Siggy held out a hand to where the young redhead still sat curled up in her blanket.

Veronica gulped and managed to rise to shaky feet, leaving the blanket behind on the sofa as she entered the chalk circle Ms. Collins had created. "Where do you want me?" she inquired bravely.

"Take the southwest corner," Collins instructed. "Siggy, you have the southeast."

"You are taking the primary position?" Siggy asked pointedly, although she took the spot assigned to her.

"I'm the strongest magic caster here," the old witch replied.

Siggy nodded and offered the still shaky Veronica her hand. The two of them watched Eustacia Collins as she slowly and stiffly made her way down to the floor, legs barely limber enough to sit cross-legged in their circle.

"You are positive you are still up for this?" Siggy demanded.

"What other choice do I have?" came the knowing reply.

The three women quieted then, each centering their minds for the task before them. Almost as if their bodies were being moved by supernatural forces, their hands reached out, forming a complete circle within the candlelit pentagram.

A low chant began to emerge from Eustacia Collins' mouth, guttural demonic syllables rising and falling in a melodic cadence. Only a few seconds later, Siggy's own precise incantation joined in, their voices augmenting each other as the chant grew louder. After over a minute, Veronica's lips finally began to move, her words silent at first but becoming louder and louder as the magical trance finally overtook her, her body letting go of its pain and offering itself wholly to the power of their spell.

The three candles at the center of the circle flickered, their scant white light just barely driving back the hideous red that had taken over the lodge. But, slowly, as the three women's voices grew more powerful, the flames rose up. A pure white light gleamed in the exact center of the magical circle, a small spark at first but growing larger and larger until finally what appeared to be a swirling ball of light rose up between the spell casters, floating upward until it came to a sudden halt only a foot below the ceiling.

The effects the light had made its true nature all too clear, however. Rather than an object existing in this universe, it was a hole into another. Slowly and inexorably, it drew in the red light of the Haunting, pulling bits and pieces of the demonic force into the dimension which it had been banished to nearly three thousand years before.

In turn, Eustacia Collins', Siggy's, and Veronica's eyes all opened, their minds deep enough in the magical flow that they no longer needed such sharp concentration.

"It's working." Siggy's lips didn't move with those words, but through the magical circle completed by their hands, the other two women could hear her.

"If only this time we are strong enough to banish it completely," Eustacia Collins added. "Only if we are strong enough to pull it from its current host body..."

Laura Danvers' body jerked forward as if it had been snared by a particularly nasty hook. She gasped for breath for an instant before slowly righting herself and casually smoothing out her thinning gray hair.

Dawn and Rick watched in astonishment as a swirl of red light continued to be pulled free of her body before vanishing through the opening above.

"It is a clever spell," Haunting/Danvers admitted grudgingly. "Quite an impressive show."

"They're pulling you back into the void," Dawn commented.

Haunting/Danvers shrugged. "Parts of us," they agreed. "But we do not exist the way your kind does, in one place and one body. We are all around. All that you can see," Laura Danvers' hand gestured to the light show surrounding them, "it is all part of us. And, when one part lives, we all do."

"But, if the one part you depend upon dies..." Rick began.

Haunting/Danvers chuckled before the laughs turned to coughs, and the feeble old body bent over in agony. Then, just as soon as the coughing began, it stopped. "The new vessel will sustain us," they insisted, leaning back against one of the statues now and obviously struggling for breath. "The vampire restored us once; he can do it again."

"Of course, it was too much of a coincidence that Spike had been here before," Dawn commented casually, watching their captor's rapidly fading health with newfound hope. "What did you do to him before?"

"We?" the Haunting exclaimed in wide-eyed innocence. "We did nothing. We were starving then, too weak to even exert our influence upon our host. We begged for whatever scraps of misery this body would feed us, and more often than not we went hungry."

"How truly tragic." Rick's voice practically dripped sarcasm.

Danvers/Haunting scowled at him. "A pity we didn't have a chance to draw your death out, Kayeri," they hissed. "Make it long and painful. We can assure you it wasn't from lack of trying."

Rick's hand tightened on Dawn's shoulder, a tacit thanks for the protection she offered him.

"Spike fed you," Dawn realized, her eyes never leaving their quickly weakening foe. "He came through here right as he was leaving Sunnydale. He would have been a complete mess."

"We had never tasted a vampire before," Haunting/Danvers agreed. "His pain was our oasis in the desert. And, fortunately, our host was drawn enough to him to spend the night in his company. It allowed us to get...close, to draw every ounce of strength we could from him."

Rick eyed the old woman critically. "Perhaps you should speak with Spike about raising his standards," he commented to Dawn off-handedly.

"Oh, this vessel was young back then," the Haunting corrected him, "and quite beautiful. We had not the strength to drain her then, but the vampire gave it to us. We took form, took rightful control of this vessel..."

"'Rightful'?" Dawn repeated in disbelief.

"Laura Danvers," the demon practically spat out the name, "is the granddaughter of that traitor who tried to send us back. It is only right that in our triumph we should feed upon her."

"You know, that also happens to be the same guy who freed you. Oh, and Spike gave you back your strength, so naturally you're turning his life into a living hell," Dawn taunted the entity. "You've got a hell of a way of showing your gratitude."

"We need the vampire vessel," Haunting/Danvers insisted vehemently. "You humans have always been too weak. We did not even know we could feed upon the undead until your friend arrived. His pain was very...human," they commented curiously.

"So you tricked him back here so you could enjoy a second course," Dawn concluded.

Laura Danvers' eyelids drooped, and she winced slightly as if in pain, one hand reaching up to clutch at her ribs. "Yes," she hissed, the human voice within her sounding even weaker, "we remembered his power. We knew we must have him for our new host."

"Then why call all the rest of us up here?" Dawn demanded, catching Rick's eye to make sure that he saw the possible escape avenue that was arising. "Why create this elaborate farce?"

Another cough raked Laura Danvers' body, and she bent over as yet another wave of red energy was ripped out of her. She looked up at them with narrowed red eyes. "Appetizers," she spat nastily.

"You know, I hate to point out the obvious but, hey, if you're still in there, Laura Danvers, you might wanna do something about the fact that this thing's about to kill you..." Dawn said casually.

The red fire behind those eyes blazed brighter for a second before another energy drain took hold of Laura Danvers' body. She collapsed to the ground with the force of this one, and the energy field that held Dawn and Rick in place shook for a second before reestablishing itself, only slightly weaker this time.

Dawn and Rick both observed that the Key light that surrounded them expanded outward slightly as the counter-force grew weaker. They were still trapped, but they had a few feet to maneuver around in now. And, hopefully, their advantage would continue to become greater with time.

Shakily now, Laura Danvers rose to her feet, one hand pressed firmly against the wooden statue beside her in order to stand up. Two echoing coughs sounded through the temple before she stood tall once more and hastily moved to straighten her hair and clothes.

"I can see the hope in your eyes," she informed them malevolently, taking a step back so that she vanished into the shadows once more. "You think that I will become weak, and then you will be able to save your friends..."

The voice moved through the shadows, and Dawn and Rick turned within the radius of the Key's green light, keeping their enemy in front of them.

"You are wrong," Laura Danvers hissed, and a glint of reflected light could be seen from the darkness. The old woman appeared once more, strong again for the moment, but this time she held a razor-sharp hunting knife in one hand. "You two will not even live to see my ascension," she announced, coming at them with knife prepared to strike...

Buffy ducked to the side and rolled across the carpet, coming to her feet again on the far side of the piano.

Spike regained his stance from where his fist had just met empty air and turned to face her, bouncing lightly on his toes in anticipation of the battle of his unlife. With a roar, he rushed the Slayer, landing a kick squarely in her stomach.

Buffy gasped from the power behind the blow but kept her balance, neatly blocking his next two punches. "You know," block, "I tried," kick, "being reasonable about this," dodge, block, "but sometimes the only way," punch, throw, "to get through that thick skull of yours," duck, wince, counterattack, "is by hitting your repeatedly over the head." She finished her declaration with a roundhouse kick that sent him falling backwards to the floor, head snapping back at the impact. "Why do we always have to do this the hard way?" she asked rhetorically.

Spike leapt back up to his feet, vamp face grinning with evil, childlike glee. "Always knew you were up for some good saber-rattlin'," he taunted, thrusting his hips provocatively in distraction before he backhanded her across the jaw.

Buffy caught herself and rolled away in time to avoid his next kick. "From what I can see," she retorted, "you're the one who's up, and your saber's not going to get rattled for a long time the way you're acting..." She kicked outward in time with her back-flip and caught him under the jaw again before landing neatly back on her feet.

He let out a delighted bark of laughter at that. "Rollin' in your blood's enough for me, luv," he countered. He managed to dodge to the side at her next kick and caught her leg, twisting it hard as he threw her across the room.

Buffy grunted as she crashed into the piano bench, shattering it. She shook her head and blinked to see a perfectly serviceable wooden stake in one of the bench's legs. With grim determination, she bit her lower lip and rose to her feet, leaving the stake where it was.

"Not even gonna grab a bit 'f wood before you go?" he commented snidely. "Or could it be that you're still sore 'cause you can't grab mine?"

"God, do you always get this crude when you're pissed?" she retorted, landing a quick series of punches and kicks in perfect succession across his solar plexus. The last high-kick sent him careening back over the couch.

He rose once more with a grin, wiping away the trail of blood that dripped from his mouth. "Or maybe you're sore from the last time you did grab mine," he continued to confirm her theory. "High-kick's not so high as usual, pet. Feelin' a bit...achy after the workout I gave you?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You know, enough. You stupid Haunting or Shish-kabob-y or whatever you call yourself? Knock it off, already! This is getting way old..."

A hint of red flared in Spike's eyes for a second. "What?" he spat angrily. "You want me to turn back into that ponce who made moon-eyes at you and spent every waking moment writin' music at that keyboard like a lovesick git?" He gestured to the piano violently.

Buffy's eyes softened for a second. "That song was for me?" she asked, touched.

Spike's own aspect turned gentle for a second, face shifting back into human planes and deep blue eyes look up at her under long lashes. "Well, 'f course. Who else could make me—?" He cut off in mid-syllable, head jerking violently to the side as he slipped back into vamp face. A brilliant red light flared in his eyes for a second before vanishing again. The Haunting's malevolent eyes narrowed at her as Spike's body prowled around her. "Oh, you'll pay for that, little girl," they hissed through Spike's lips in an inhuman voice before lunging once more...

Siggy winced in pain as another swirl of red energy was sucked into the portal between them. All magic demanded a price, and apparently this spell's price was physical hardship on the parts of the casters. To her left, Veronica's eyes were squeezed tightly shut but, to the woman's credit, she didn't break the rhythm of the spell in the slightest.

Another wave of energy was banished into the portal, and the entire circle flinched at the force of impact.

"How long do we have to keep this up?" Veronica's mental voice sounded as if she were walking on fire.

"Until all of the Shur-Ashk-Um-Ur-Abi has been consumed," Eustacia Collins replied. "Last time we left only a fraction of it behind and..."

"We must finish it for good this time," Siggy agreed.

The building rumbled around them, as if the Haunting were clinging to it to escape their spell, but ultimately a new influx of red appeared and vanished into the white light.

Excruciating agony wracked the bodies of the three women at this latest impact, and Siggy's voice faltered for a second before finding the chant once more.

"I don't know if I can take another one of the those," Veronica despaired.

Eustacia Collins' brow furrowed, as if she was pondering something of great importance, before she communicated with them again. "Send the impact my way," she instructed.

Siggy's eyes widened in alarm, even as she continued to chant. "You cannot possibly—" she began.

"I am the strongest here," Eustacia Collins insisted. "I can handle it."

"Well, I'm not fighting you," Veronica shrugged with a hint of her old vinegar.

Siggy felt the next shock wave come in and nodded, letting the blow flow through her this time and into Ms. Collins. The old woman trembled but held, her voice never weakening for an instant.

"I only hope you do not exaggerate your abilities," Siggy finally replied, "or we are all doomed."

The old witch's clear, gray eyes met hers for an instant, surprising her with the power and conviction within them. "I failed once," she insisted. "I will not do so again. One way or another, this ends tonight..."

Buffy coughed and wiped away the blood that had appeared in her own mouth at the force of Spike's last kick. With a roar, the vampire came at her again, and she somehow managed to move her aching body, avoiding the brunt of his kick. However, he still grazed her side, and she heard a crunch. She had no doubt that at least one of her ribs had broken.

Nevertheless, she was the Slayer and had taken far worse, although most of that had been at her prime. She didn't know whether it was the power of the Haunting's presence or just that she was out of practice, but now that Spike was no longer fooling around, she could tell that she was outmatched. He was faster than her, just as strong, and she was injured badly enough that she couldn't quite escape his blows.

And, as a punch caused her vision to go black for a fraction of a second before she could strike back, the disturbing thought occurred to the Slayer for the first time in her life: This wasn't a fight she was going to win...

Will Buffy and Spike kill each other? (Pshaw, yeah right. ~_^) Will Rick and Dawn be all right? Will the spell work? Be sure to review to find out...