First of all is first

Spike figured that if the First could influence him in some ways – then he as well could influence the entity. Oh, he wasn't kidding himself into believing that it would be easy, hell, it would probably be one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but when had he ever back down from a challenge? And what had he to lose really? His sanity? That he'd lost the day he'd set his eyes on Buffy dancing in the Bronze.

So, here's the deal; I run the show. You can be my sidekick. I'd wager fifty-fifty.

What makes you think that you'd have a choice in the matter? I'm stronger than you could ever imagine.

Yeah, yeah. Heard that before. Here's the thing, mate; if you're that strong – why haven't you already? I mean, I'm still me aren't I?


No need to be so gloom about it. After all, I am a handsome mother fucker.

There's that.

And not to mention all the hot steamy sex with Buffy.

Ugh. The Slayer. Don't remind me. Last night…I thought it would never end.

Yeah…Good times.

Mental headshake.

So what do you say… sidekick?

I rather tussle with the Slayer. Oh, wait, I do that every time you do. Funny that.

Shut up. Pause. Are you serious?

I'll never tell.

Spike scowled. Trying to strike a deal with the First was like trying to get Buffy into mood when there was no chocolate around – completely hopeless. But wasn't stubborn his middle name and hadn't Illyria stressed the importance of harnessing the First's incredible power to fight back against Wolfram and Hart?

Look, he said with a sneer, I know you have this holier-than-thou attitude and a not so stellar wish to have world domination, but here's a reality check for ya; if there's no world left it would be rather difficult to rule over it. And, oh, yeah, you might have power of this hot body of mine but you wouldn't like the temperature if hell was released upon you.

Spike waited for the First's response and smiled wryly when it finally came, in a sour, cranky voice that was embarrassingly similar to his own on his worst – and he did mean his worst, days.

Fifty-fifty you said? I guess I could deal with that.

So…Are we agreed?


Spike sighed. This could become messy.

He just didn't know just how messy things could become.

If Spike could accurately describe the sensation of sharing his body with the First it would be like telling someone how it felt like you'd been sleeping all the while someone else was controlling your arms and legs and then when the control was back in your hands you couldn't remember what had occurred during your so called absence. Simply put; when the First took over Spike was dormant and vice versa.

So far none of the others knew about his deal with the First and as of now he rather have it that way. He did not want to face Buffy after she found out. There would be hell to pay for sure.

The upside of this...situation, was that the inner ramblings with the First had somewhat ceased. So, yay for that. The downside was...well, not knowing what occurred during the moments when the First took over the wheels sort of speak.

At one time Spike remembered being going to sleep next to Buffy and in the next he was in the shower with no idea how he got there. Another time he'd been sitting at the table enjoying a healthy breakfast of blueberry pancakes only to discover himself slipping away and when he came back he was in the garden with Dawn at his side. They had been laying in the grass and gazed up at the sky.

"Look, Spike," the young woman had said and pointed with a dainty finger up at a cloud. "That one looks like a rabbit."

He'd blinked in confusion; how the hell had he ended up there?, then smiled at the little bit. "That it does," he'd said softly.

Those experiences was enough to drive a normal man into feeling crazy, and even tough Spike was nothing but a normal man – he was defiantly spooked. And he realized that he had to speak to someone about what was happening to him.
But who?

Just as he came to the conclusion that Illyria had to be the best option, he felt himself yet again slipping away. The last thought that crossed his mind was: Ah, hell...

When he burst forward to claim the body yet again he found himself in the garden, sitting in the grass with a sheet of paper next to him. Curiously, he reached for the paper and frowned when he read the written lines. Then he crumpled the letter – as it had turned out to be, and slipped it inside the pocket of his jeans.

He lifted his face to feel the cool breeze against his skin and laughed silently to himself. Who would have thought all those years ago that he would ever have the chance to enjoy the sun again?


For a brief moment he stilled, and then he arranged his features so that he smiled when he turned around to face the slayer that had crept up behind him.

"Buffy." She really was something, he thought as he let his eyes roam freely over her lithe body clad in tight jeans and a white blouse. And she was smiling at him with all the love she felt for Spike shining out from her eyes. It was...empowering.
His smile widened.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Never been better, love," he said and reached out a hand towards her – which she took without hesitation. "In fact, I feel like a whole new person."