It's also up in my LJ, if you want to just copy and paste. I won't be near the file for a while.

I can't believe I'm awake at this hour, but I just posted the new fic, Lovingkindness, and of course must tell the world.

He was Sex and Death and terrible burning Love.

This is the single best description I have ever heard. Ever.

I can't believe I'm awake at this hour, but I just posted the new fic, Lovingkindness, and of course must tell the world.

Woo hoo! But I think you might have forgotten to close a font tag, because about three quarter of the story has a strike through it.

So do you think my boss would mind if I called in sick to work because I'd rather stay home and read the new fic?

Oh! Here I am running out the door. Won't be back until too late tonight to get on line. Yep, the plan is to not get any work done tomorrow until I get a chance to read Lovingkindness.

I did not have the strike through, but I am in Opera, so perhaps it fixed itself.

I made myself a nice cup of coffee and read, and of course bawled my fool head off. I especially liked-- well-- all of it-- but I liked Giles making martinis for Willow and Giles and Spike talking, and Willow taking Buffy to a gay bar. Also, Willow getting laid. All those things cracked me up-- in addition to the crying-- so this is why I love Herself.

Life is very cool sometimes. I was supposed to make a day trip over to my mother's house to get her house prepared for her return from her summer up north. When I read Herself's post I thought to myself how I wished she were coming home the next week so I could do the house prep next weekend when I have 3 days instead of one.

I am packing up my car and my sister calls and tells me not to come because Mom is not coming until the next week so I should hold off.

I just finished making a pot of tea, the printer is running and I am ready to read. Hmmm. Life is good.

Oh, how I love you guys.

And yes, the strikethrough problem (which I fixed) doesn't show up in all browsers. It didn't show up in mine, oddly. (IE5 on the Mac)

It's slow in coming, but it is coming, the latest chunk of V!Giles. When last we saw out "heros", Spike and Giles had just met with the Scoobies at hte Magic Box. They're walking through the park, and Giles has gone off to grab some dinner ...

Spike headed in the direction of the Slayer, fortunately the opposite direction Ripper had taken. He found her a hundred yards off, looking thoughtful but aware enough of her surroundings to feel a vampire approaching.

Buffy scanned the area before focusing on Spike. "So what brings you to the park, Spike?"

"Memories of meals past." He fell into step next to her. "Find anything interesting tonight?"

"Nope, nobody stupid enough to come within reach when I'm in a bad mood." She smiled at him brightly. "Till now."

He settled on his feet more evenly and smiled back. "I've got no objection to a bit of rough and tumble, if you're in the mood."

"Nah, beating you up is starting to be fun, and that's just a little too euw."

"Oh, but you'd make a great dom, love. Fit you up with some nice tight black leather, braid your hair back, give you a riding crop." He shivered happily. "There's an image that's going to keep me happy for hours."

Buffy shuddered in disgust. "Leave me out of your fantasies, Spike."

"Too late," he murmured.

She glanced at him and took a step away. "So . . . where's Giles?"

"Oh, he's off somewhere. I am not my brother's keeper."

Buffy blinked at a sudden thought. "So, is he really like your brother, since Dru, um . . ."

"You might want to go a little easy on the family metaphors, love. Considering how Dru and I got along."

"Oh, yeah, euw, never mind."

Though why Spike was sparing her the brutal truth about how vampire clan members related to each other, he wasn't sure. The look on her face if she figured out just how close Spike and her ex-watcher had gotten would be such a treasure.

They heard it at the same time, someone coming along the path.

"Vampire," Buffy muttered. She stepped out of easy reach of Spike and pulled a stake. Spike said nothing, his sense of smell already identifying the person approaching. He got ready to conduct a getaway, just in case.

Buffy went still when she saw Giles coming around a thicket of bushes. He didn't seem surprised to see her. "Hello, Buffy," he said easily. "Have you ever thought of changing your shampoo? It's really quite identifiable. That should have occurred to me before, you do hunt creatures who rely a great deal on their sense of smell."

Spike kept himself from smirking. Clever Ripper, put the Slayer off guard with a bit of the old-fashioned amiable babble. And maybe she won't smell that faint whiff of blood coming off you. No obvious spots, but you should have dumped that handkerchief you've got in your pocket. Not that discretion and tidiness were a normal concern of vampires after a meal.

Buffy stared at Giles, trying to force her mind away from memories of sharing patrols in this very park, making herself remember what vampires strolling through the park were normally up to.

"Having a pleasant evening stroll?" she asked, still clutching her stake.

"Yes, thank you, and yourself?"

"Nice quiet night, then I ran across people acting suspiciously in the park."

Giles glanced at Spike. "I didn't do anything," Spike protested.

"Somehow I doubt that."

Buffy glared at both of them, shifting her stance to keep watch equally. "Me, too."

Giles looked thoughtfully at Buffy a moment. "Spike, would you mind letting me speak to her alone?"

"I mind if she stakes you."

"I shall endeavour not to give her cause."

Buffy tapped her stake impatiently against her leg. "Isn't that kind of up to me, guys?"

Giles smiled at her. "Yes, it is."

Spike shrugged. "Whatever. If you're dust I get your car." He headed off into the darkness, lighting up a cigarette.

Buffy watched him go. "He listens to you."

"When it suits him. Little has changed in that regard."

"But in all the other regards . . ."

They looked at each other for several moments, Giles standing at ease with his hands in his pockets, Buffy fidgeting with her stake.

"We had a deal, Giles," she said softly.

"Yes, we did."

"We'd make sure that when we died we stayed dead, and if it was too late we'd make sure . . ."

"I know."

She raised the stake, still watching him. He didn't move. "You're not even going to try and stop me?" She was poised to strike, breaths away from doing her job.

"No, I will try to stop you. I don't want to be destroyed," he added in an almost academic tone of voice.

"No, you wouldn't. My Giles, though . . ."

He nodded. "When I woke up . . . it was a near thing. I rather resent being grateful to Spike, but if I'd been alone . . ."

He wasn't looking at her anymore, but off into that other world only vampires saw.

"I've met the newbies," Buffy said softly. "Not known for their self-sacrificing tendencies. Not likely to decide they don't want to be vampires after all."

"But I remembered, you see." He glanced at her, then away again. "I remembered my calling, my oaths. I remembered you. But that's all they were, memories. The drives, the urges -- they came from somewhere else. The first week was painful."

Buffy clenched her jaw. "But you managed to get over it well enough to decide to sacrifice Dawn to some hellbeast."

He met her eyes again, and he became a different man, a being she'd seen traces of over the years. She knew why Spike called him Ripper. "I don't want to see the world destroyed. I will do my best to stop it."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what. We do what we have to. That's why we're here." His smile was the one he'd given her before, the one of shared sacrifice and weary understa

"No matter what. We do what we have to. That's why we're here." His smile was the one he'd given her before, the one of shared sacrifice and weary understanding. She remembered Acathla and a choice that had come close to killing her.

"You're--you're a vampire. Vampires like blood and death and carnage."

He looked away from her. How much of this face was demon and how much was an old self she'd never wanted to think too closely on? "Your point?"

"If you want to save the world, it must be for some nefer--nafer--"

That smile was back. The patient, amused smile that had gotten her through the SATs. "Nefarious?"

"Yeah. Some twisted purpose of your own."

"Spike didn't."

"Spike's weird."

"Yes, granted. I will confess that elements of my current psyche find Glory's plans--appealing. But the greater part sees the error of that view."

Buffy shook her head. "This isn't--how can you sound so you?"

"As opposed to the typical mindless fledge that crawls out of the ground? I'm not quite sure yet. It's a fascinating study."

"Is that all this is to you?" she snapped. "A fascinating intellectual experiment?"

"This is what I am now, Buffy. I can crouch in the corner and wail to the heavens or I can try to understand my new condition."

"Your new condition." She stepped away, and the Slayer lived in her eyes. "What did you have for dinner, Giles?"

His return gaze was calm. "Ask me again and I'll tell you."

She took a deep breath, but before she could ask Spike came around a bush at a run. He studied the two suspiciously, then shook it off. "Come here, you two, quick."

"Spike," Buffy frowned, "I'm not--" But Giles had already gone, and she wasn't going to be left out.

They followed Spike through a small grove of trees--Buffy hyper-alert for any possibility this was a trap.

"Up here," Spike whispered, crouching behind a bush.

Giles sniffed the air. "Horses, again."Voices from the clearing ahead. Buffy peeked through the shrubbery. Three men, two horses. Two of the men wore metal armor with tabards, and chainmail veils over their faces. The third man wore the rags of the street.

"What's with the medieval recreationists?" Spike said.

"I've seen these guys before," Buffy whispered. "They attacked me, said something about me being the enemy."

Giles glared at the men. "These are the ones who attacked you?"

"Well, it was three last time, but they're dressed like it."

"How interesting." The voice was more parts Ripper than Giles.

Spike smirked. "Think a chat's in order, mate?"

"Quite likely."

"Um, guys . . . maybe we should find out what they're up to first?"

Giles began to straighten. "Oh, I intend to."

"Wait," Spike said, as one of the men in armor pulled out a sword.

Words became clearer. "So bright, so bright," muttered the ragged man. "Going home, not long now, going home."

"Do you agree, brother?" said the man with the sword.

The other nodded. "Yes, this one is lost."

The sword moved, and cut the ragged man's throat.

Two cold hands clamped down on Buffy's shoulders, and another went over her mouth to stifle her yell. She struggled but couldn't break free of the grip of two vampires.

"He's dead, Buffy," Giles said into her ear. "It's too late, he's dead."

Spike leaned in. "And these guys accused you of being the enemy?" If he sounded slightly admiring, no one commented.

The men in armor knelt beside the body, obviously in prayer. One gestured over the body, then they stood.