Spike quietly pushed open the stone doors. Though most people would have knocked before entering the large abandoned mansion (or the small abandoned castle), Spike knew just by instinct that no living human lived within. It was his job to find the lost soul that was in need of help to find it's eternal rest. So, without any hesitation, he has grabbed the cold, worn, golden handle, turned it, and crept inside.

He froze in the doorway. It seemed as though he had stepped into both ancient time and a fairytale. A dark fairytale, but nonetheless a fairytale. A dully gleaming grand onyx staircase wound up to the second floor and a silver chandelier sparkling with thousand of crystals shone from above.

Spike could tell the lost soul was female, her taste and scent wafted through the room with strength that was impossible to ignore. He shuddered, but quickly shook it off. He was a Shadow Ward! He didn't get scared!

As he quietly looked around the room he noticed something black and tangled clinging to the corners of the ceiling, strung along the walls and between pieces of furniture. He moved a little closer. It looked like lace, black as a raven's feathers, woven into the most delicate, fragile, and elegant patterns he had ever seen. He gently brushed his fingertips along it and jerked back with a snarl of disgust. Though it was beautiful, it was sticky, like a spider web.

Suddenly, something wrapped tightly around his neck. His breath was knocked from him as he was thrown hard against the wall. For a moment, Spike was stunned, and, by the time he recovered his senses, he found he was unable to move. His hands were bound to the cold stone wall, feet bound together, waist and neck secured to the wall. He recognized the stickiness, softness, and strength that surrounded him, wrapping him in a makeshift cocoon. So, of course, when he finally managed to look down, he found himself wrapped in the black lace. Or, maybe, it was a spider's web after all.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement behind the dust grand piano. She stood, half hidden in shadow, silk, and lace. A beautiful young woman, with pale, snow white skin that stood out against her blonde hair. Her green eyes reflected darkness and depth, they were open, wondering. She was dressed in head to toe in the mysterious black lace.

She hesitated for a while before stepping out into the light and giving him a small smile.

"Welcome," she said softly. "I am Buffy Summers. And you are my new companion."