The Dream

"I've never done this before," she admitted tiredly as Spike rolled them to their sides. She lay comfortably against him, her head pillowed on his chest.

"Which part?" He asked, smiling down at the girl-woman in his arms.

"Sex with a stranger," she giggled.

He couldn't help the smug smile that crept on his face. "Well, I'm not a
stranger anymore."

"That's one way of looking at it."

He kissed the top of her head as his hand found hers and entwined her
fingers with his. Perfect fit. They seemed to fit in everything. He held her
tighter against him. "We've known each other for five days now; almost a
week. How long does it usually take for you to…?"

"At least a month."

He grinned broadly.

"You're grinning like a Cheshire cat right about now aren't you?" She
accused him teasingly.

"I won't deny that I am."

She looked up at him and he mentally noted for the thousandth time how
beautiful she was. Even more so now with her lips swollen from kissing him,
her blond hair mussed from their bouts of love making and her face glowing
from passion and exertion. Her green eyes seemed to shine and he smugly
knew it was because of him. He'd been with many women before, but none
had captivated him as this one had. He felt himself stir to life again as he
beheld her. He leaned over and captured her lips with his, bringing her
closer to him and tasting her sweet mouth.

Spike lay back against the pillows, spent. He watched as she made her way
to the bathroom, looking over her shoulder and blowing him a kiss. He
smiled as he took in her slender, toned form and looked up at the ceiling as
she closed the door. He was going to have to move to Boston. He wanted to
leave his stint as an attorney and pursue teaching instead. It was what he
wanted, and Buffy made him feel as if he could do anything, even move
mountains. And for her, he would.

He would have to make a lot of changes and arrangements, but it wasn't
even a sacrifice. He found his future; he found his life. It was all her. He was
going to have to tell her first, of course. But how could she say no? She had
to feel the same way. Didn't she?

"Idiot. You haven't even told her you love her yet, how could she possibly
know? Once you say it, she will too." He told himself. He looked toward the
bathroom. What was taking her so long?

"Buffy?" He called out. No answer. "Love?" Nothing.

He rolled out of bed and started for the bathroom. Was she okay? Did he
hurt her and she didn't tell him? His overactive imagination started going
into over drive and he knocked on the door. "Buffy? Are you all right?"
Nothing still.

"I'm coming in," he opened the door tentatively and found the light off. He
furrowed his brow and flicked on the light.

"Buffy? Where are you? Buffy?" He shoved aside the shower curtain and
found it empty. He stormed back in the hotel room and found her clothes
off the floor—all traces of her were missing. Throwing on his jeans, he
stormed out the door. There wasn't a single soul in the hallway.

"Buffy!" Spike called out before waking up.

His blue eyes shot open he groaned. The same dream again. He sat up and
turned on the lamp on his nightstand. He grabbed his cigarettes and lit one
up. He inhaled deeply and stared across the room. How was it that one
woman could turn his entire world upside down in just five days? How is it
that said woman could just disappear? Well, no, she hadn't disappeared like
she did in his dream every night, but when he had reached for her in the
morning; she had vanished.

He had to get over it. He told himself that at least a hundred times a day.
All right, so he met someone while visiting Rhode Island. All right, so he
spent five of the best days in his entire existence with that someone. And
yes, he'd fallen completely and hard for her as well. He ran a hand through
his blond locksand shook his head. How long had it been now? Two months. He hadn't even mooned over his ex-wife like this. Actually, he'd been happy of the reprieve. Now he was haunted by the elusive Buffy Summers.

The plain and simple fact was he had to find the woman who turned his life
upside down. He had to find the woman who stole his heart and possessed
his soul. He had to find the woman who brought him to ecstasy time and again on that fateful night he kept dreaming about. He had to find the owner of the beautiful green eyes he couldn't erase from his dreams; the smile that was etched in his brain.

It had been a whirlwind week. William "Spike" Knightly had gone to Newport, Rhode Island to get away. Living the fast life in L.A., he wanted to go someplace where it was quiet, peaceful and people were kind and real, rather than rude and fake. The small New England town seemed the
perfect place. And it had been. He'd gotten away from the cutthroats and
the bimbo's who preyed upon the successful rich men in business suits.

He was burnt out with the job that had once brought him so much pleasure
and found himself at a crossroads.. His girlfriend at the time had split and
he suddenly found himself single. He went away to think, rest and plan.

Then he met Buffy. The vivacious, precocious woman who was, for all
intents and purposes, still a little girl. He was ten years older, she being 26.

It wouldn't seem they would hit it off. He was older, worldlier and definitely
not naïve. It was hard not to be jaded when you lived in L.A. He'd seen
things and done things that the normal person probably never had. She was
naïve, yes, but wise too. The mix was intoxicating. She was jaded and
innocent all at the same time. He had been drawn to her complexity. She
had wormed her way inside, broken down his defenses and just when he'd
thought he'd found the missing link to his life, she'd disappeared.

They'd met on a tour of one of Newport's famous mansions. Both were
alone. The first thing he'd noticed about her was how beautiful she was. He
was used to being surrounded by beautiful women, but she was different.
She was real. Nothing about her was plastic or fake. After spending the tour
watching her instead of paying attention, he decided to talk to her. What
did he have to lose?

At first, she was hesitant about starting any kind of camaraderie with him.
For one thing, he was a stranger. For another, he was from the west coast;
she was from the east coast, what could be gained from a friendship with
that kind of distance? Somehow, he'd convinced her to spend time with
him. She was funny, a touch cynical and yet idealistic. Idealistic…a trait he
thought he had lost with his youth. Somehow she had managed to make
him believe in the ideal yet again.

He still remembered their first kiss. She'd taken him to her favorite
restaurant and there had been dancing. The first time he held her in his
arms, he couldn't stop himself. He'd kissed her tenderly, whilst putting all
that he felt for her in that kiss. Then when she'd molded herself around
him, he knew that she had to feel the same way. They spent the next few
days together, a kiss here a kiss there. Then, they'd made love and
everything was the same as he dreamt it: Until the point where she'd
vanished in the bathroom. In real life he had told her he loved her as they
had lain there in post-orgasmic bliss and she had been gone the next
morning.

He remembered the awful feeling he had as he went to her hotel to find
that she'd gone. He'd searched everywhere for her. He ripped Newport
apart and she was nowhere. Then, his time was up and he'd gone back to
L.A. He searched Boston directories for a Buffy Summers. She was nowhere
to be found. In that time, he'd quit his job and started looking up teaching
positions in Boston. For all he knew, she wasn't even from there. The idea
that she could have lied to him sat like lead in his gut. It gave way to
bitterness. Try as he might though, he wasn't able to forget her.

Though he told himself to get over her and move on. Though he was angry
with her for running out on him, for disappearing, for making him fall in
love with her, for obviously lying to him—he had to know why. He felt as if
he were cracking up, for one thing. He had nothing to trace back to her
aside from his memories. It was as if he spent a moment outside of time
with her and was slammed back into reality where she didn't exist. Part of
him wanted to find her if only to ensure he wasn't going out of his mind. He
snorted. Out of his mind was very much where he was headed. Which was
why he hired the private detective to find his Buffy. What he would do with
the information after, he wasn't sure, but at least he would know where she
was should he want to pursue it.

Grounding out his cigarette he found himself looking longingly at the empty
side of his bed. He would just enjoy not reaching for her every time he woke up.
¨¨¨

"Mr. Knightly? I have the information you've requested. If you could—"
Spike snatched the phone up, out of breath. "I'm here."

"Ah, Mr. Knightly. Were you running?" Detective Schreb asked.

"To the phone, yes."

"Did I interrupt you?"

"You have some information?" Spike rolled his eyes. He had sprinted across
his penthouse once he heard the familiar voice of the detective he'd hired.
He'd stubbed his toe in the process. His heart was racing for a whole
different reason now.

"Based on the descriptions you gave me and the, uh, drawing you gave
me…I'm faxing some photo's of what I think might be your disappearing
girl."

"All right, hold on." Spike was off sprinting to his office now. The fax was
just starting to come through. He could see paper start to come through
and he stared at it as if it were his lifeline. It felt very much as if it were.

"Mr. Knightly? Are you there?"

"I am."

"If this is your girl, then her name is Elizabeth Summers. She's not directly
from Boston, but rather a small town outside of Boston. She just moved to
Cambridge, Massachusetts three years ago. She isn't listed in any
directory—"

Spike inhaled sharply as the photo came through and the detective
stopped. "It's her. That's my—that's Buffy." He stared at the photo until he
had to blink and he gripped the edges of it as if he were afraid that too
would vanish.

"I'm glad, Mr. Knightly. May I call you Spike?"

"Yeah, sure, that's fine. So, her name is Elizabeth, you say?"

"Yes. She lives with her brother in Cambridge, a city just outside Boston."

"She told me she had a brother," Spike whispered as he remembered the
fond gaze that passed across her features as she told him about her
brother.

"She was fairly easy to find. Well, for a professional anyway. It seems she's
spent a lot of time over the past couple months in the hospital."

Spike furrowed his brow. She never told him she was sick. "She sick?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I didn't delve in too deep. You said you wanted a
girl found, I found her." He sounded offended.

"Right, right. Thank you. Do you have her address? Phone number?"

"Yes, I am faxing that as well right now. I also have her job address and
phone number."

Spike stared at the fax machine, willing the information through. His
hands were shaking he noticed.

"What do you plan to do now that you've found her, Mr., uh, Spike?"

"I'm going to get her," Spike replied simply. "I found my girl and I'm going
to get her."

"Suppose she doesn't want to be ‘gotten'?"

Spike glared into the phone. "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Seems
to me she has a lot of explaining to do, running out on me like that—and
why am I justifying myself to you?"

"Just curious as to what you would do now. You seemed unsure when you
first asked me to find her."

"Now that I've seen her face and know she's real and I'm not just cracking
up—I want some answers."

"Are you in love with this girl Spike?"

"I feel very many things for her at this moment in time, Schreb. I suppose
until I see her in the flesh, I won't be sure what any of them are."

"Seems it must be something for you to travel across the U.S. for her. To
hire me to find her—"

"Yes, well, thank you for finding her." Spike rushed on. He didn't want to
hear any analyzing from another person about how he felt about this girl-
woman. It was bad enough his friends were concerned about the depth of
his obsession for her. He was already concerned for himself over it, he'd
already done more than enough analyzing—and dreaming—of her to
warrant worry about his own sanity, he didn't need assistance. But now,
now he held the information he sought in his hands. Now that he had a
picture of her lovely face, he found he couldn't stop here. No, he had to get
the girl who haunted him and make her explain to him why she'd left him.
After that, he wasn't sure what his plan would be anymore. Hopefully, his
obsession would be cured by then. He hoped, but something inside him
doubted that highly. Especially if the way his heart was aching in his chest
was any indication to how he felt just gazing at her picture.



¨¨¨


Leaving L.A. wasn't a problem. After many lectures—many concerned lectures on his rash decision to travel to the east coast for a woman who'd jilted him no less, he managed to convince one of his good friends to keep an eye on his penthouse for him. He was gone exactly one week after receiving information on Buffy.

He hadn't spent much time in Boston and the first thing he noticed was the
chill in the air. It was October in Beantown. The weather was crisp and
refreshing. He smiled to himself. He remembered Buffy had been
flabbergasted that he'd never experienced fall. She had gone on and on
about the beauty of changing seasons. So, he looked at the temperature
through her eyes. Summer giving way to fall. Hot to cold. It would be nice
to experience something other than hot days and nights. He rolled his eyes
at himself. Great, now he was extolling virtue on the weather. Thank you
Buffy for turning me into a sentimental fool.

Now that he had arrived, and was fairly settled into his hotel room, he had
no clue how to go about ‘getting' Buffy. He was beginning to think he should
have listened to his friends when they told him not to bother. What kind of
person travels across the country after someone? A stalker, that's what
kind of person. The stalked don't exactly shower their stalkers with
encouragement and talk of how romantic they are. No, that's why things
like restraining orders existed. He sighed heavily and took out the pictures
he had of her. He smiled then. No, he had to find her. He had to know why
she just up and left him like that. His smile vanished. What is was just a
game? Just something she did for fun? She never seemed like the type.
Yeah, Spike, because you knew her oh so well. Five days does not
constitute knowing what kind of person she was. Yet, he truly thought he
did know. How could anyone act that much passion and sincerity? He
snorted, a really good actor, that's who.

Pulling out the file of both her home and work address, Spike decided it
was time to do what he came to Boston to do. Find the girl; get the answers,
close the chapter, and go back home.


Yes? No? Bad? Good? Let me know! :)

The Reality

"You're late," Buffy scolded her brother as he settled himself in the booth across from her. "I said to meet for lunch at noon. I've been waiting for fifteen minutes." Her tone was stern, but the smile on her face indicated that she wasn't all that bothered.

"Did you see your boss?" Angel Summers asked, ignoring her scolding.

"Nice to see you too, brother."

He smirked. "You know me. Right to the point."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I know."

"So?"

"I start back Monday," she answered him, nervousness laced in her tone.

He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "You're going to do
fine, Buffy."

"Thanks. I know. Just first day back after . . . everything."

He eyed her, concerned. "How you feeling?"

She smiled. "I'm all right. You don't have to keep asking me that, Angel."

"You're my sister and I worry about you. Is that a crime?"

"I suppose not. But you just saw me this morning," she pointed out.

Angel's chocolate brown eyes glinted with amusement. "If you can call that
‘seeing'. You're a bear in the morning."

She shrugged. "Not all of us can be morning people."

He shook his head and Buffy noted how the gel he put in his dark brown
hair made it stiff as a board. "I wonder if the wind would jostle that hair,"
she mused.

He pointed at her. "Watch it, young lady."

"What are you going to do? Hit me over the head?"

Angel's handsome face darkened. "Not funny Buffy."

"Sorry," she whispered, glancing down at the opened menu in front of her.
"Shall we decide?"

Angel nodded grimly and grabbed a menu from behind the napkin holder.
He opened it and then snapped it shut. "You don't remember anything at
all about what happened?"

"For the millionth time, Angel. No." She was trying not to get angry, but
she was so tired of people asking her—namely her family—what happened
to her. All she remembered was waking up in the hospital bed with Angel
hovering beside her, his eyes tired, his usual tall and postured gait,
slouched with worry. She'd had no recollection of how she'd ended up there.
Lindsey McDonald, her boyfriend, said he'd come home from errands to
find her at the bottom of the stairs in a heap. She had no recollection of
falling down those stairs. It seemed pretty cut and dry to her aside from
the fact that she hadn't broken anything; just a few bruises here and there.
He'd said she must have fallen on her way down and not clear from the top.
It was a good thing those stairs were carpeted with extra padding or she'd
probably be in real trouble. If Lindsey had found her there, then obviously
she'd fallen down them, thus the head injury. So then why did Angel insist
upon asking her day in and day out if she remembered? He knew she didn't
remember anything at all.

Angel held up his hands in surrender. "All right. I see the resolve face. I
know what it means. This discussion is over."

"For today," she muttered.

Tight lipped, Angel said noting and instead opened up the menu, holding
it up so that she couldn't see his face.

Sighing with frustration, Buffy did the same.



A few blocks from the Al's, the greasy diner in which Buffy and Angel were
sharing lunch at, Spike found himself in front of the Museum of Fine Arts,
frustrated beyond belief. He'd gotten lost three times in almost two hours.
Boston was not an easy city to find your way around in. In fact, he
remembered Buffy telling him that streets seemed to magically disappear. He
thought she was exaggerating, but after he'd tried to retrace his steps twice
and ‘lost' the street he had come down on, he realized she was right. And
really, how many "One Ways' could one city have?

However, as he looked up at the grandeur that was the MFA of Boston, he
saw the charm instantly. Manicured lawn, and an impressively large brick
building greeted him. The Newport mansions had nothing on the vastness
of this building. However, he supposed since she worked for the museum as
events coordinator all things old impressed her. He wasn't sure if that was a
narrow way of looking at it or not, but he didn't care at that moment.

What he did care about however was the fact that his palms were beginning
to sweat and his heart rate was accelerating with every step to the
entrance. His breath hitched as soon as the door opened as if he expected
Buffy to jump out and greet him, or walk idly past him at any moment.

Instead, a ticket booth and a gift show lay in his wake and the attendants
behind the desk smiled at approaching attendees. All right, he told himself,
good place to start. They could get her to come down, hopefully, and then
they'd have themselves a chat.

He hesitated, feeling suddenly guilty. Was it right to do this at her work?
Probably not. He took a deep breath, noting how every museum seemed to
have that ‘old' smell. The scent of fried food wafted to him and his stomach
rumbled. Must have a cafeteria here. Maybe if he stuck around long
enough, he'd see her and wouldn't have to ask. He checked his watch.
Twelve-thirty. Lunchtime. Girl had to eat, right? And so did the boy.

Realizing he had to purchase a ticket in order to get to the cafeteria, he
forged forward anyway. He could stroll around; take a look at the museum.
See the place where his Buffy worked. See the place she talked about so
lovingly. No one he knew ever talked about their job like that. He wanted to
feel closer to her, felt as if he would somehow know her even better, and
understand her. He snorted. His friends were right. He was obsessed. Well,
the only way to cure his obsession was to face it head on and purge it out of
his system. Or was the best way to move on and forget about it? Like he
could do that.

Purchasing a ticket – in which he now understood how it was kept so lovely
by the price – he sauntered into the cafeteria trying to appear calm, but
instead taking in everyone around him, looking for Buffy. He ordered a ham
sandwich, waited for it to arrive, then sat down in the back where he had a
clear view of the entrance. He shook his head. He was definitely a stalker
now.

After finishing his sandwich, he decided it was time to walk around. Finding
where the Greek artifacts were, he made his way there, all the while
keeping his eyes and ears open for Buffy. After walking around for an hour,
he was getting antsy. So when a tall, leggy brunette strolled past him with
the badge "STAFF" on her white lab coat, Spike stopped her.

"Excuse me."

The woman stopped and looked around her.

Spike smiled. "I am talking to you."

The woman smiled shyly and let out a little giggle, pushing her glasses up
her nose and turning her shoulders inwards. Definitely shy.

"I was wondering if you could help me," Spike started.

Her head cocked to the side. "With?"

"I'm looking for someone that I believe works here. In fact, I know she
does. See, she used to be an old friend of mine and I'm wanting to surprise
her."

"How nice," she gushed. "Who is she?"

"Buffy Summers."

The girls smile faded. "Oh dear."

Spike felt sick all of a sudden. "What is it?"

"Just that Buffy isn't here . . . she's been out for quite a while. She'll be back
though. On Monday."

"Is she all right?" Spike asked, remembering Schreb had told him of her
stay at the hospital. Was she sick? Is that why she'd left him? Because she
was dying and didn't want to hurt him. His heart ached and his stomach
churned at the prospect. He'd stay with her. He'd stay with her until . . . No,
he'd hire the best doctors around and take care of her, make her well again.


"She had an accident. I'm not really at liberty to say . . . how long ago did
you know her?"

"Uh, high school."

The woman smiled then. "Oh then you should—I mean, she'll probably be
really happy to hear from you."

"I want to surprise her though, please don't tell her uh—"

"Fred. Fred Burkel and I won't tell--?"

"William. Nice to meet you Fred," and he held out his hand.

Blushing profusely, she shook his hand lightly. "If you'll excuse me," she
said looking down and smiling.

"Thank you," and he moved out of the way so she could get by. He sighed.
Monday. He wasn't sure if he could wait a whole weekend to find her. Next
stop: Her home.



Tenacity was his middle name, however, he felt he had to regroup and plan.
Look at the facts the way any good attorney would do and make a plan
based on those facts. Fact number one: Buffy had a brief stint in the
hospital due to an accident. Fact number two: The brief stint in the hospital
had been bad enough that she had missed work. Fact number three: Fred
had acted funny when he asked about her. What was he walking into and
did it have anything to do with why she had left?

Making his way through downtown Cambridge, he did the first law of
driving in Boston: He parked at the first parking spot he saw. He didn't care
if it took him an hour to find Buffy; he wasn't willing to risk taking two just
backtracking. On foot seemed a safer bet. Besides, the walking would
maybe clear the cobwebs from his muddled brain and he could plan what
he was going to say to her when he saw her. First, he knew he wanted to
make sure she was all right. Then he wanted her to know that he came in
peace. He chuckled to himself. What was he? An alien? He grimaced, he
sure felt like one. Taking out the address, he headed into the first
convenient store he found to buy a pack of smokes, get something to drink
and ask directions. Strolling down the aisle to the coolers, he was perusing
his options when his heart stopped.

Buffy.

She was standing in front of the one of the long coolers, just staring at it.
God, she was beautiful. Was it possible that she had grown even more
beautiful than when he'd last seen her? He always thought that your
dreams had a tendency to embellish and exaggerate even more than what
had actually happened, than what you had in reality seen. Not the case
when it came to Buffy. Sure, he could see just her profile, but it was the
smoothness of her skin he remembered, but did not do her justice in his
dreams and memories, the way her cheeks were naturally pink without the
aid of makeup, the way her nose was oddly shaped and so adorable, and her
hair, how it shone. It had gotten longer, he noted, passed her shoulder and
grazing her shoulder blades. He noted how the ends naturally curled. She'd
also gotten thinner. He frowned. While her clothes weren't hanging off her,
there was noticeable room in them.

Realizing he couldn't cheat himself of the chance to talk to her, he sidled up
next to her. "Know what you want?"

"No," she sighed. "Sorry, I was zoning. Am I in your way? I'll move," and
without even looking at him, she started to walk away.

He grabbed her arm. "Buffy."

She froze and turned to him. Her eyes were wide with apprehension. Fear.
What was this? He'd expected shock, but not this. He suddenly felt like a
git.

"How are you?" he asked, releasing his grasp on her arm.

"Fine. How are you?" she asked cautiously.

"I've missed you," he told her honestly and then wanted to kick himself for
it. Way to scare her off, Spike.

"Oh? How long has it been?"

"About two months, give or take the time it took me to come down here for
a visit."

Now she looked downright despondent. "Two months huh?"

"Yeah, Buffy, can we go somewhere and talk? I don't want to yell at your
anything. I just need to know what happened."

"I'm afraid I couldn't tell you that."

"Why not?" now he was getting a little angry. First she'd acted afraid of him, then sad that she'd seen him and now she was just going to be no help at all?

"Look, whatever happened with us—"

"'Whatever' happened with us?" his voice rose.

"I'm sorry, but—"

"You're SORRY?"

"Listen," she said forcefully, her voice rising now. "I don't know who you
are."

"What?"

Her bottom lip trembled. "I don't have any memory of the past three
years of my life."

Now that, he didn't expect. "What?" he whispered.

"I had an accident a couple months ago-- which I must have just met you before that – and I suffered a head injury. I have a condition . . . "

"Amnesia?"

"That'd be it. So if I met you in the timeframe of the past three years, I
don't remember you."


A/N: Well?

The Story

Spike was in complete shock. He stood there staring at Buffy, motionless, in the middle of a convenience store unable to wrap his mind around the bomb she’d just dropped.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, whatever I did or didn’t do –what did I do?” she asked him.

He sighed. He couldn’t lie to her, on the other hand, how
could he tell her? She was obviously distressed by the fact
that she couldn’t remember him, how would she react to the
truth of what had happened between them? It would
definitely upset her.

“Buffy,” he started hesitantly.

“Don’t lie to me please. No matter what it is, you have to tell
me the truth or I’ll never be able to rebuild my life and one day
remember.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “God Buffy that sounds so
awful,” he breathed.

She grinned warily. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“Is there anything I can do—please, I want to help.”

“You can tell me your name,” she smiled.

“William Knightly. I go by Spike though.”

She raised her eyebrows. “If I had my memory, I doubt I’d
forget a name like that. How’d you get it?”

“I used to be an Attorney. In the court room, they referred
to me as ‘like a pit bull named Spike’.”

“Used to be an Attorney?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Wasn’t happy. Decided to take a chance and make a
change.”

“To?”

“Teaching.”

Her eyes widened. “That is quite a change. Less money
too.”

“I don’t care about that part.”

“Less cut throat I imagine and less stress.”

“Exactly.”

“You could probably still bring your pit bull tendencies to
the classroom depending on what grade you teach.”

Spike chuckled. “Very good point. I was thinking college
level. I don’t feel at my age I’d have the patience for a
younger crowd.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty – six.”

She smiled, “You’re still young. You could do it.”


“I guess I like the idea of my students being more
responsible.”

“Just because they’re in college doesn’t mean they’re more
responsible,” she pointed out.

“True, but, most of them want to be since they’re paying
for it.”

“Or on a free ride from their parents and don’t care.”

“Gotta take the good with the bad I guess.”

“Don’t I know it,” she said wistfully.

“How did it happen?” he asked carefully, not wanting to
upset her.

“I fell down the stairs,” she replied, meeting his eyes.

“Do you remember at all?”

She shook her head. “No. And my brother asks me at least
twice a day if I do.”

“It must drive you crazy.”

“You have no idea.”

“I remember you mentioned a brother when we met,” Spike
said thoughtfully.

“Can you tell me how and when and where?” she asked
hopefully.

“Buffy, I don’t think I can,” and it pained him to say it.

“Why?” she asked, a hard edge to her voice.

“Because I don’t want to put any undue stress on you.”
“If you don’t tell me then I’ll just wonder and then stress
anyway. So you might as well tell me to give me peace of
mind. It might not look it, but I’m made of tough stuff here.”

He grinned, “I don’t doubt that.”

She looked up at him hopefully. “Then tell me?”

“We were close.”

“How close?”

His eyes met hers. “Close enough.”

“Were we – were we dating?”

“You could say that.”

She sighed heavily. “Impossible.”

His eyes narrowed. “How is it impossible?”

“Because I have a boyfriend.”

He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. “For how
long?” he asked incredulously, and a bit louder than intended.

She took a step back, frowning. “According to what I’ve
been told, for the past three years. According to my
timetable, one month.”

Spike sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “You
never told met that when we—you never told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just part of the mystery that is Buffy Summers.”

“Tell me about it,” she said dryly.

“Christ, I can’t say anything right!” he exclaimed in
frustration.

“It’s all right. I’m learning to roll with the punches. I didn’t
mean to be so skittish when you tried to talk to me, it’s just
that it gets hard when people know who you are, but you
have no recollection of them.” She sounded tired and weary
and it made him want to just gather her in his arms and
soothe her.

“It’s like you’re famous,” Spike tried to joke.

“Without any of the perks,” Buffy added wryly. “I just hate
disappointing so many people when they start talking to me
and bringing up things I don’t know anything about . . . its
hard to see the hurt expression on their face.”

“You care,” Spike said, almost in awe. It wasn’t just her
she worried about; it was others.

She nodded. “Look, I don’t really know what to tell you right
now . . . “

“Buffy, you’ve been through a lot and I’m not asking for
anything—“

“Which is good because I can’t give you anything.”

“What about your friendship? I’m thinking of relocating to
this area and I could use a friend.”

“Spike, I don’t know you at all and if what you said is true—
“

“It is.”

“I have a boyfriend,” she reminded him.

He ignored that comment. “You do know things about me. You know I used to be an Attorney, that my nickname is Spike, I’m 36 and I want to be a teacher.”

She started to laugh. “Okay, okay, stop.”

“So you’ll be my friend?”

“Can I think about it?”

“I don’t want to lose you again Buffy.”

“You’ll have to stop saying things like that.”

“What? The truth?”

She sighed. “All right then. Fine. I want to know more about
our relationship then.”

The Start of a Beautiful Friendship

Following William out of the convenience store, Buffy wondered what the hell she was thinking. She had enough on her plate with missing the last three years of her life, the last thing she needed to do was add to it by asking William about their supposed
relationship.

She supposed it was the stark honesty in his blue eyes. The way they shone at her, and the tenderness written in his face as he beheld her. He'd never hurt her, that's what his face told her. Not to mention the fact that he was, well, gorgeous. Tall and lean with sharp cheekbones. He was a man, but at the same time resembled a boy, he appeared an angel, but his nickname suggested a devil. He was a mystery. As if she didn't have enough mystery in her life.

He stood before her, his bleached blond hair nearly white in the sun, nearly blinding her with its brilliance. With the sun behind him, it was as if he was surrounded by a golden light. Now he was the angel.

"Do you really want to know what happened with us?" he asked, cutting
right to the chase.

The million dollar question. Did she really want to know? Despite how he
seemed, how could she really trust him? The only person she felt
comfortable and safe with was Angel. So why was she following this
stranger out side, this stranger who said they'd had relations while she was
supposedly with Lindsey, this stranger who'd tracked her down?

"No," she blurted out, surprising them both. "In fact, I think it might be
best if I just walked away. I'm sorry for what I did –or rather didn't do, but
I just –can't." She started to walk away and the stopped in her tracks when
Spike jumped out in front of her.

"I told you I lost you once and I wasn't going to do it again, princess."

"What do you want from me?"

"Just a little bit of your time."

"Like right now?"

Something passed over his face that she couldn't define. "Let me amend

that. A little bit of your time everyday."

Her breath hitched. "William, I don't think that's a good idea," she shook
her head and started to walk away.

"I know that Newport is your favorite place aside from Boston," he called
after her. She stopped, frozen, as he continued. "I know that it's your
favorite because you remember going there on family vacations with your
parents when you were young. You and your brother used to plan taking
one of them over and moving in together. I also know that as happy as it
makes you to visit, it also makes you sad."

She turned around. "Because my parents are dead now."

He started walking up to her and she kept her eyes trained on him. "Buffy,
I'm not asking for a lot here. Think of it this way: I'm rebuilding my life and
so are you. Why not do it together?"

"Because my boyfriend might have something to say about it."

"He might have something to say about us being friends?"

She smiled warily. "Do you want to be just friends?"


"If it's what I can get, then yes."

"I still don't know William. You claim we had something, but obviously I
don't remember it. And I'm pretty sure that I'm very loyal, so it doesn't
add up that I would cheat on Lindsey—"

"Lindsey is your BOY friend?"

She narrowed her eyes and tapped her foot, placing her hands on her hips.
"Yes. You have something to say about that SPIKE?"

He grinned. "Little tigress in there," he tucked his tongue behind his teeth
and grinned. Buffy tried not to notice how sexy it was, despite how
annoyingly cocky it was at the same time. "I like it."

"As I was saying," she said pointedly, "No one else in my life knows you. I
would have known by now, wouldn't I have?"

"We met in Newport, at one of the mansions. The Breakers—your favorite
mansion."

She looked down. He knew way too much about her to be making it all up.
"Did you hire a detective?" His eyes shifted away from her. "You did, didn't
you?"

"No. I did my own detecting."

His eye was twitching.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Continue."

"You were alone, I was alone."

"And?"

"And the rest I will tell you in time."

"That so?"

"If you agree to meet with me at least once a day, I'll tell you a little bit
more about what happened. But you have to agree to meet me."

"I could just walk away right now."

"But you won't, will you?"

She studied him. "Where did you come from?"

"L.A."

Her eyes widened. "You came across the country for me?"

He reached out and caressed the side of her face with his knuckles, his face
taking on the tender look she'd seen earlier. "What can I say? You made me
want to come and see the city you love so much. I've only been here a day
and I think I already love it."

Her breath hitched at that and she grabbed his hand to take it off her face,
but he maneuvered his hand so that now he was grasping hers in his.
"Buffy. I'm asking for an hour—I'll even settle for a half hour—of your time.
What have you got to lose?"

"My sanity?"

"I'll help you regain it."

"How? You know something about me I don't remember."

"And I'll tell you about it all."

"Why should I do this?"

"Because despite how strange it is, you're curious. Because something
about me and the situation has piqued your curiosity. And, because you
can't be mean to the newbie in the city. I might get eaten alive."

"Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing at this point," she said dryly.

"Trust me."

"I only trust Angel."

"Brother?"

She nodded.

He smiled, "I'd like to meet the guy. You spoke so highly of him."

"He'd pummel you into next week if you ever hurt me."

"I wouldn't Buffy, I would never hurt you."

"I don't know you well enough to believe that."

"There's only way to find out."

She stared at him, at his earnest eyes, his hopeful face. His big warm hands
held hers tightly, yet gently enough that she could escape if she wanted to.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Do you have a car?"

He nodded.

"Nearby?"

"Yes."

"Well then. You can give me a ride."

The Boyfriend

“So, this is how to get to Buffy’s,” Spike mused in a teasing tone as he pulled into the parking lot of a large, white Victorian style apartment building.

“I live with my brother,” Buffy told him. “I was told that I was living with Lindsey before in his home—a real big house, but after the accident my brother insisted I move in with him. I wasn’t exactly going to argue with him.”

“In your memory you’ve only known Lindsey a month.”

“Right, and since my brother is home to me . . .”

“You’ll find your way again, Buffy. Even if you have to create new
memories to do it.”

“Yeah,” she said wistfully, staring up at the house. “I lived here for a
while with him before I guess I moved in with Lindsey.”

“Do you think you’ll move in with Lindsey again?”

She looked panicked at the thought. “Oh God, it’s too soon to be able to
tell that. For me anyway. I know he’d love it if I would, but I have to get to
know him all over again.”

“And what you know so far?”

She smiled, “I’m not telling.”

“Why not?” he grinned.

“Gee, I don’t know,” she said in faux wonderment.

“Buffy, I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

“Is that right?” she sounded as if she didn’t believe him.

He nodded. “Friendship won’t work if you start keeping things from
me.”

“Start?” she laughed at the terminology. “Seems as if a lot has been
kept from you by me already.”

“This way we can start fresh.”

“There is no we, William.”

He tried to hide his hurt at that. He also refrained from adding ‘yet’ in
his head. It hit him then that there might not ever be a ‘yet’. The truth was, if
this Lindsey bloke was what she wanted, then he had no place to deny her
that. He certainly had no claim on this Buffy. Not that he had much of a
claim on the old one either. Just his damn wishful thinking. The only thing
he knew with clarity was that he wanted to be here for her now. She seemed
so strong, and yet so lost. How could he walk away and leave the woman he
loved like that? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“What time will I see you tomorrow? And where? Go gentle on me, I’m
still learning my way around.”

She giggled and to him, it was the most endearing sound. Next, he
wanted to hear her full belly laugh. He’d also like to hear the sounds she
made while underneath him, but he wasn’t going to start making rash
wishes.

“How about you meet me in front of the store again? I’ll take you
around Cambridge a little bit. Maybe take the T into Boston.”

“Maybe help me find where I can hang my hat?”

“Oooh,” she rubbed her hands together. “That sounds like a project. I
need a—oh.” Her face fell.

“What?” he asked suddenly nervous.

“I have to go back to work on Monday.”

“We have the weekend. And nights.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “You never quit huh?”

“It’s in my blood.”

“I can see that. Spike.”

He grinned. “So, tomorrow—what time?”

“Um, make it noon.”

“All right then miss. I’ll see you at noon.”

“Thank you William.”

“No Buffy, thank you.”

She waved him off and climbed out of the car. Spike refrained from
following her and begging her to let him stay with her for just a little while
longer. He had this fear that if he drove away, she’d disappear again and that
was just not something he’d be able to handle again. He raked a hand
through his hair as he watched her bounce up to the door and let herself in.
He hoped that it was him that gave her that extra bounce in her step.

“You’re really under it, aren’t you?” he muttered to himself and drove
away, back to his very empty hotel room.



Buffy was smiling. Take note world, I’m smiling. Rounding the corner
to the apartment she found Lindsey standing outside her door in the all
season porch, grinning at her. His briefcase and coat were in a corner. He still
had his dark suit on and the blue of his shirt underneath brought out his
eyes. They weren’t like Spike’s though, she noted. Immediately she chastised
herself for the thought. She was supposed to be dating Lindsey and here she
was, grinning like an idiot because of Spike. A man she’d just met. A man she
didn’t know but was apparent she shared some kind of past with. Apparently
the person she was before cheated on Lindsey and here she was thinking
thoughts of Spike. Cheating on Lindsey with her mind. Oh God, then there
was tomorrow. Did Lindsey know of Spike at all? Did he know about him and
that’s why he never mentioned him? Something inside her told her to keep
Spike a secret. Maybe she’d tell Angel. One day. But for now, Spike was a
secret.

“Hi, darlin’,” he greeted her and she felt guilt flood her. That deep voice
and the slight southern twang to his voice sent her insides to mush.

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“Came by to see you. I left early today. Needed a Buffy fix. Where’ve
you been?”

“Oh, out and about.”

He nodded slowly, his jaw clenched and then he smiled. Did he see me
with Spike? she wondered.

“Did you see work today?”

“I did. I’m going back Monday.”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it right now. . . Want to come in
for a bit?”

“I was actually wondering if I could take my lovely lady out for
dinner?”

She smiled at him, thinking how sweet he looked with the puppy dog
eyes and sweet smile.

“Of course,” she agreed. “Don’t you want to change out of that suit
first?”

“Oh. Yeah,” he looked down at himself as if just noticing he was in a
suit. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown locks and shot her a flirtatious
grin. “How bout I pick you up in a couple hours? Give me enough time to look
presentable for you.”

She smiled, “I think you’ll do just fine.”

He sauntered over to her and placed his hands on her waist. “I love
you,” he whispered.

She averted her eyes from his tender and penetrating gaze.

“I’m sorry. I put pressure on you just then.” He dropped his hands. “It
just comes out of me – I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize and make me feel worse,” she told him softly.

He nodded. “So, I pick you up in a couple hours?”

She nodded in agreement. Grabbing his things, he pressed a kiss to her

forehead and left. Wondering what she was doing, she entered the apartment
and started to get ready for her date with Lindsey, while images of Spike
danced in her mind.


“What?” Buffy asked Angel later.

“Nothing,” he said and walked away from her.

“Don’t say ‘nothing’ when the stinky cheese face most certainly says its
something,” she told her brother, following him out of her peaches and cream
room and into the all hardwood kitchen where he was heating up his dinner:
Mac and Cheese.

“Just the idea of eating this doesn’t sound as appealing as where
Lindsey will probably take you,” Angel shrugged his non committal response.

Buffy studied him curiously. “That it?”

“Yep,” and he turned his back on her.

“All right then,” and she started for her bedroom again.

“Buffy.”

Here it is. He just had to warm up to it. “Yeah?”

He kept his face blank, “How are things going with Lindsey?”

“Fine, why?”

“He doesn’t pressure you or anything?”

She grinned, “You mean does he ask me to have sex with him Angel?”
she teased.

Now Angel grimaced. “Buffy, I think you’re a beautiful woman, but
you’re my SISTER all right? That was gross.”

“Sorry,” she giggled.

“I mean does he pressure you to move in with him or to remember?”

“No, he doesn’t. He told me he loved me today and then felt bad about it. Said he didn’t want to pressure me. Is that what bothers you?”
“Yes and no.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just want you to be careful.”

“Do you not like Lindsey, Angel?”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “It’s not that I
don’t like him, it’s just that. . . “

“You don’t like him,” she finished.

“No. I just don’t want anyone to be hurting you whether they mean to
or not. You’ve been through a lot over the past couple months and you have a
lot on your plate right now.”

“I know, Angel. And I’m fine. Everyone has been real patient with me.”
Her thoughts drifted to Spike and how persistent he’d been.

“You only remember having been with Lindsey a month. So if you don’t
feel he’s the right guy for you, you can kick him to the curb all right? And if
he doesn’t take no for an answer, I’ll do it for you.”

Buffy giggled and then started singing the Mighty Mouse tune “’Here I
come to save the day!”

“Oh I get it. Comedy.” Angel said dryly, causing Buffy to laugh. “You
know you can tell me anything that’s bothering you right?” he asked once
she’s calmed down.

“I know. You’re the only one I count on.”

Angel smiled. “I’m sure one day that’ll change, but it’s good to know
just the same.”

Investigations

"Lindsey, can I ask you a question?" Buffy asked settling her hands in her napkin covered lap.

"Of course you can," he looked up from his plate and glanced at her half full
plate. "You're not going to eat anymore? You didn't eat that much, sweetheart."

She looked down at her plate and then back up at him. "I'm all set."

He frowned for a half a second and then nodded. "What is it you wanted to
ask me?"

"What was our relationship like?"

The fork that was en route to his mouth stopped. He put it down and met
her eyes. "Fun, loving, exciting—it was perfect. We were very happy." He
smiled. "And we will be again."

"Did you and Angel get along?"

"Well, he was always very protective of you. I don't think anyone is good
enough for you according to Angel. Not that that's a bad thing however. I
don't think anyone, including me, is good enough for you."

She grabbed her fork then and started pushing her food around on her
plate thoughtfully. "We had to have had problems. Did we argue a lot?"

He frowned, "We argued over stupid stuff like who was going to do the
dishes or who didn't put the towels in the hamper, but nothing serious,
why?"

"We never split up for a little bit or anything?"

"No. Buffy, where is this coming from?"

"Just wondering," she shrugged. Trying to figure out where William came
into all of this. If we had such a good relationship, then why did I stray? she
thought. If I did in fact stray. She placed her fork down again. "How long
before we moved in together?"

He smiled now. "Four months."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yep. We just knew it was right."

"How come you never proposed? Three years is a long time to be living
together and not getting hitched."

He looked stunned and just a touch uncomfortable by that question. "We
talked about it, but we also didn't want to ruin a good thing."

"Were you planning on asking me?"

"Buffy, where are all these questions coming from?" he sounded a tad
annoyed.

"I'm trying to understand our relationship is all. It's not like you tell me a
whole lot about it."

"You've never asked before."

"So now I am—Are you annoyed?"

"No, Buffy," he shook his head and reached across the table, grabbing her
hand. "I'm not annoyed. I guess just like its hard for you to talk about, it's
hard for me too. I'm sorry if I snapped at you. Sometimes it's hard to think
of what we had and how now—" he stopped. "I'm sorry."

Now she felt guilty. Of course it was hard for him too. Why wouldn't it be?
It wasn't only her that had lost things, he had too. He went from having her
with him in his house, to having her move out because she didn't know him
well enough at all to be living with him. It had to hurt him too. And he
probably didn't want to put undue stress on her by telling her about their
relationship. In fact, thinking about it did put pressure on her to hurry up
and remember when she didn't know if she ever would again.

"I'm sorry too," she whispered. "I know it must be hard for you too."

"Let's focus on making new memories. Let's not dwell on what happened or
didn't happen and just think about the present. It's like a clean slate that
we can remake our history on."

She nodded, "Yes, I like that. It's really all we can do right?" she asked
lightly, giving him a light smile.

"Right. How bout some dessert darlin'?"

"Oh, I don't really want any. I'm kind of full," she patted her tummy,
thinking how she probably shouldn't have helped herself to a bowl of mac
and cheese with Angel before Lindsey picked her up.

"Please? At least share with me?"

She took a deep breath and then agreed. "Sure."

He smiled. "Thanks."




Spike stood outside the convenience store, checking his watch for the third time and trying not to have a coronary that she was only ten minutes late. Besides, if she didn't show, he knew where she lived. He supposed it would be difficult to rid himself of the fear of losing her – literally losing her – after having spent all that time having that infernal dream and not being able to find her. Now in the dream when he stepped out in the hall to look for her, she was down the hall rounding the corner. The symbolism wasn't lost on him, but it was better than not being able to find her at all.

So now, as he checked his watch for the fourth time and stuck his hands
deep in his jeans, he was ready to go hunting if he had to again. He sucked
his breath in and was about to start for his car when he saw her. He let the
breath out through his teeth with relief. She was walking with an old man
with white hair and a slouched gait. She was laughing at something he was
saying and he found himself grinning like an idiot at the sight. She looked so
much more relaxed than the day before. She looked as if she didn't have a
care in the world. The day before it was as if she had the weight of the
world on her shoulders. He wanted to see her like this all the time; glowing
in her happiness. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh and smile like
that.

She looked up to see him and waved; a bright smile on her beautiful face.
He smiled and waved back. The old man departed after Buffy gave him a
friendly and affectionate hug and she came up to Spike.

"Hi!" she greeted him cheerfully.

He smiled broadly, feeling the urge to hug her, but not wanting to scare her
if he did so. "Hi. Who was that?" he asked, pointing to the old man who was
crossing the street.

"Oh, that's Robert. Nice old man."

"How do you know him?"

"I met him at Boston Common one day. I was sitting on a park bench just
minding my own business when Robert came up to feed the ducks. Seems I
was in his spot. We started talking and since then we've been taking daily
walks together."

"Did you know him before--?"

She shook her head, "Nope. And that's the beauty of it. I met him after."

Spike nodded, "No pressure then."

"Right. He doesn't expect anything of me."

Taking his hands out of his pockets, he lightly grabbed her wrist, making
her look at him. "Buffy, I don't expect anything of you either."

She didn't look like she believed him. "Don't you?" she challenged.

"I just want to spend time with you."

"For what, William? You know I have a boyfriend—" she stopped abruptly
and twisted her hand away from his grasp.

"I don't want to make this hard on you Buffy. If I am, tell me and I'll walk
away." Please, don't make me walk away, he begged her in his mind, please.
"Are you hungry? I could take you to the diner Angel and I frequent," she said looking up at him.

He inwardly breathed a huge sigh of relief. "That sounds great."

She nodded, "All right. Let's go then."




"Where are you staying anyway?" Buffy asked, taking a huge bite of her burger.

He stared at her, amazed by her ability to take such a large bite. Not to
mention the amount of food she could pack away. "The uh, Boston Harbor
Hotel."

Her eyes widened. "Really? I've never actually been inside there. It's
absolutely gorgeous from the outside. Is it really gorgeous inside?"

"Maybe you can come up and—forget I said that."

She gave him a pointed look. "I think I will. I asked my boyfriend if we
ever had any problems last night."

"Why?"

"To find out what made me stray."

"Aside from tight, hot body?"

She shook her head, a slight grin on her face. "Yeah, aside from that."

"And?"

"According to him, we've never had any serious problems. Never even split
up."

Spike nodded slowly.

"What?"

He looked up at her. "What?"

"You're thinking something. Tell me."

"Well, do you really think he'd tell you if there were issues in your
relationship? It's not like he wants to tell you that you got annoyed when he
spent all day Sunday watching football or it drove him crazy that you
couldn't cook or that he was too controlling or that—what?" She looked
uncomfortable. "I talk too much sometimes about things I don't know
about—what is it?"

"Just what you said. Kind of hit the nail on the head."

"How do you mean?"

"After he said that about us not having any serious problems, he said that
it was a clean slate for us."

"And you didn't question him?"

"What was I supposed to say?" she demanded.

"What he meant. Saying ‘clean slate' kind of means as if you're starting
over—"

"Well, we are, William."

"Saying ‘clean slate' has the intention that you're starting over from
something bad."

"You don't know that it means that," she waved him off, popping a fry in
her mouth and shifting in her seat.

"A second ago I hit the nail on the head. Now you're back tracking."

She eyes him warily. "I can see why you're an attorney. You don't miss
anything do you?"

"Nope. What's going on inside your head Buffy?"

"So many things. Odd really since I'm missing such a huge chunk. Just
seems the more I learn everyday about someone or something, it gets just
a little bit harder."

"I want to understand. Explain to me what its like," and he leaned forward,
giving her his full attention.

"Okay, well, you ever play that game ‘Memory' when you were a kid?"

He furrowed his brow, "'Memory'. Explain it to me."

"You know, you have these cards that have shapes or fruit or whatever on
one side and the other side there's nothing. Well, there's duplicates of the
cards with the shapes on them and you place them face down so the blank
side is up. The object is to turn over a card and match it with its mate. The
trick is to keep inventory in your mind on where the cards are so you can
go back and find the mates to each card."

"Ah, yes, I think I do remember playing something like that. And that's
how you feel? Like you're playing memory?"

"Yeah, sort of. I was never really all that good with the game and it was
frustrating when I'd turn over cards and they didn't match because I was
always a row or two off on where the mate to a card was. The person I
played with inevitably always won because I did all the work for them and
they had a great memory to remember all the cards that I flipped over for
them. So, it's frustrating because all these people have all these memories
and they keep flipping over all these cards and I can't keep up with it. I can
only go by what I know and I feel as if I'm always a row or two off and they
have all the power because they know where the cards are. They can keep
flipping them over and making matches, but I don't know where they are.
So I guess I feel because everyone else knows where the cards are, they
can make matches and I can't."

"Except some of those matches could be mismatches Buffy. Say Lindsey
flips over oranges, and he picks up an apple and doesn't show you the card,
he just tucks it away and makes you think he picked up another orange. So
there's an orange out there missing its mate. It's up to you to figure it out
by uncovering all those cards."

"But if everyone knows where they are?"

"You ask questions. And follow your gut. Always follow your gut Buffy.
Didn't you know that a large part of being an attorney is following your
instincts? If something doesn't add up, then keep asking those questions –
even change them up, vary them—until you get the answer you're satisfied
with."

"The truth."

"Right."

"So then the reason his comment of a ‘clean slate' didn't sit well with me
was because my gut didn't think it jived."

"Right."

"So then the same could be said for why I keep questioning the so called
relationship we had?"

He sighed heavily and raked a hand through his hair. "Right. How do you
feel about it though?" he asked softly. "What does your gut tell you? Not
your head. Your gut."

She stared at him for a long time, assessing him, studying him. Then she
looked away toward the counter and then back at him. "You should really
try the apple pie. It's good."

Spike grinned and agreed.

Brother

After lunch, Buffy took Spike to Harvard and Boston College so he could familiarize himself with the area—considering he was planning to move to the area permanently and to help him find out whom to contact for a teaching job.

"It's a new adventure for you too, huh?" she grinned up at him as she handed him some brochures.

"You know it," he grinned back. He didn't want to call attention to the fact
that she'd spent more than the asked hour with him. She'd spent at least
three so far. He wasn't going to ruin their time together by asking if she had
anywhere to be –namely anywhere to be with Lindsey.

He shouldn't have thought about it though because in the next instant she
was checking her watch and frowning. Frowning-that was a good thing!
Meant she didn't want to leave him as much as he didn't want her to leave
him.

"What is it luv?" he asked softly, bracing himself.

"I should be getting home."

"Oh? Do you uh, have plans with Lindsey?"

She smiled knowingly at him and shook her head. "No. With my brother.
Well, not exactly plans. He just worries when I'm gone too long."

"He sounds protective of you."

"He is. He's the only family I have left so we only have each other to lean
on."

"That's not true luv. You have me to lean on," he told her and nudged her
with his elbow as they walked off the BC campus and towards the T.

She chuckled. "Be that as it may, Angel worries like a mother hen. More
so—well, from what I remember anyway—since my accident."

"I can understand that," Spike nodded in agreement. "Can I meet him?"

"Oh, I don't know…" she worried her bottom lip.

"Are you not willing to share me luv? Am I a secret?"

She spun to him, shaking her head emphatically. "No, it's nothing like
that—well, maybe a little like that. It's just I don't know what he'd think. . .
I don't know if I ever told him about you before and he's never mentioned
you—then there's Lindsey and I think Angel would be weirded out if I just
brought you home and introduced you and I don't even know HOW to
introduce you—"

Spike placed a finger on her full rosy lips, stopping her babbling. "Its easy
Buffy. You say ‘Angel, this is my new friend William. William, this is my
brother Angel.' Then I say how I've heard so much about him—because I
have—and then he'll ask how I know you."

"And you'll say?" she asked curiously.

"What would you want me to say?" he smiled.

"Nothing. I want to tell him when we're alone how I met you."

"Then I'll say nothing and let you take the lead."

"Why do you want to meet my brother so much?"

"Because from the moment I met you, you only spoke highly of him. You
say that you only have him to lean on and I want to meet this guy that
means so much to you. I'm willing to bet that anyone you hold in high
regard must be pretty damn special."

She smiled broadly and then cocked her head to the side and studied him.

"What?"

She smirked. "I'm just wondering where that puts you then."

He lunged at her and she darted away, laughing. "Minx!" he shouted after
her.

"You are very ‘special' William!" she yelled over her shoulder to him as he
ran after her.

The sound of her laughter rang in his ears and he would have gladly run all
the way back to her house, chasing her, just to hear her laugh all the way.
When he finally did catch up with her, he grabbed her around the waist,
sliding his hand across her stomach and bringing her up against him. She
went limp in his arms, laughing breathlessly. He could smell in her hair the
scent of vanilla. The scent he remembered from their time together in
Newport. He noticed again how tiny she felt and vowed to put some meat
on those bones. More burgers at Al's if he had his way. Definitely more of
that delicious apple pie.

He marveled at how easy it felt to be with her. How it was just like before.
She must have noticed his sudden pensiveness because she spun in his
arms and regarded him thoughtfully. "What is it?"

He smiled down at her. "You. Us. It's like before."

"It is?"

He nodded. "We were so comfortable with one another."

"William . . . Spike . . . It's true that I don't know you very well. I barely
know you at all, but what you said earlier about me following my gut?"


He nodded, his breath catching.

"I'm following my gut here. With you. I feel safe with you. You haven't told
me much about what happened with us, but if I asked again—would you tell
me?"

He nodded earnestly.

"But I don't want to know it all. Not yet. I'm not ready to flip over those
cards with you yet. I like it this way with you. I like just being able to talk
to you and laugh. Do you understand?"

He exhaled, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. "Yes," he breathed.

"Thank you, " and she slid out of his arms. He wanted to bring her back
into them, wanted to tell her to just dump Lindsey, but he knew he
couldn't. That would be pushing and she was in a fragile place right now.
They were in a fragile place still. He'd only re entered her life the day
before. Lindsey, she knew had been there for three years. He'd only been
part of her life for a week. He couldn't ask that of her. She'd already given
him more than he thought possible. So, for that, he wouldn't push. He would
respect her relationship with Lindsey and be her friend. Even if their
meeting was secret and she would probably never tell Lindsey—he would
be open to the idea if she were. So, he would wait. And hope.



Angel glanced at the clock on the VCR and tapped his foot impatiently.
Where the hell was she? She was usually home when he got there. He shook his head. He sounded like a possessive boyfriend rather than a brother.

He sounded like Lindsey.

Well, he sounded like he imagined Lindsey did. The part of Lindsey that
Buffy had hid so well from him. The part that she didn't let on to, but he'd
known. He had the instinct. He knew his sister well. He knew her moods, he
knew her many faces, and he knew her brave fronts and her silence. He
knew when to stop prying and that's what he'd done. And what had
happened because of it? He'd almost lost her. And for that he blamed one
Lindsey McDonald. Only he couldn't prove it. Not yet anyway. He had the
advantage that in Buffy's mind she'd only known him a month. He could
place seeds of doubt, hopefully one day they'd grow to where she'd dump
him and forget she ever knew a Lindsey McDonald. Before, it'd been full
steam ahead and she'd refused to hear him about his doubts and bad
feelings about Lindsey. She'd told him it was her life and she could take care
of herself.

It rattled him now to see her so . . . so fragile. She still put on that brave
face, but he could see apprehension in her eyes. Frustration. She was trying
to make her way on her own and not let on that she was scared and
confused and angry. . . but Angel could see it. He knew his sister. She'd
always had a good head on her shoulders—except when it came to Lindsey.
And, she'd always been a little cautious one minute, and then a ball of
impetuous fire the next. Now she was . . . calm. But it was the kind of calm
that indicated she didn't know which end was up and didn't know what to
do. He'd barely seen her laugh since she'd been released from the hospital.
So, he didn't push her away from Lindsey, just tried to sway her gently. If
he came on full force, he was afraid she'd shut him out again.

"Angel!"

He jumped from the couch and sprang into the kitchen to find Buffy coming
through the door with a guy behind her. He was tall, lean and he was
smiling at Buffy as if she were a Goddess. Being a high school guidance counselor, he felt he had a pretty good handle on people. He always followed his gut and first impressions were important to him. His first impression of watching his sister stroll in radiant and smiling and this man following her, watching his sister with such adoration told Angel that this man thought the world of Buffy – as he did—and meant her no harm. The fact that this man could have been the reason for the beaming smile on her face was reason enough for Angel to take an instant like to him.

Buffy flung herself in his arms. "Hi."

"Hi Buffy. Where were you?"

"Out with my new friend William." She stepped back. "William, this is my
brother Angel that you've heard so much about."

William stuck out his hand, smiling warmly at Angel. "I've been wanting to
meet you. Hi, Angel."

Angel took his hand. Firm hand. "Oh?"

"I've heard so many things about you from Buffy. She sings you praises, I
wanted to meet the brother she adores so immensely."

Angel grinned and looked down at Buffy. "Adores huh? You wouldn't know
it."

Buffy hit him playfully. "Oh shut up. William is moving to the area and wants
to get a job teaching. I was thinking maybe you could have the hook up and
help him out?"

"Possibility. Before I talk shop though, I gotta eat. Have you guys had
dinner?"

"Nope."

"Why don't we go out?" Angel suggested. He had every intention on getting to know this William better. He wanted to know more about the guy that had put the glow back on his sister's face. This way, he could be sure that he wouldn't have a repeat of Lindsey on his hands. And, if his instincts turned out to be right, maybe William would be the help he needed to get Buffy away from Lindsey McDonald once and for all.

Alliances

Angel sat back and watched the two interact. It was hard to believe they'd met only yesterday. It was as if they knew each other for years. Spike never kept his eyes off her for very long and Buffy was constantly goading him into something. He saw something in her he hadn't seen in a long time, something he hadn't seen after she moved in with Lindsey: A spark. It was in her eyes. Her vibrancy was back. While he was happy to see it, it also concerned him. How long would it last? Would she hold onto it or let it go to be with Lindsey? Was there a way to keep that spark in her? And just how DID she meet the man whose nickname was Spike and hailed from L.A.? He wasn't as dumb as Buffy thought. He got his chance to question William alone when Buffy excused herself to use the ladies.

Angel wasted no time at all. "So, how do you really know my sister?"

Spike looked at him, eyebrow raised. He chuckled. "Cut right to the chase
huh?"

Angel shrugged. "No sense in beating around the bush."

"I can't tell you how I really know Buffy."

"Why not?" Angel asked, his protective side kicking in.

"Because Buffy wants to tell you and I promised not to tell you."

"She's not here right now."

Spike shook his head. "I can't do that to her. I promised."

Angel grinned. "Good answer."

"Do you approve?"

"Of?"

"Gonna make me spell it out?" Spike asked, sitting back and studying
Angel.

"Yep. Think of me as the guy you have to get through to get to her."

"I'm glad you look out for her," Spike whispered.

"What else am I supposed to do? She's my sister and the only family I
have."

"Sometimes not even that means much."

"Sounds like you know from experience."

"Not really, but you learn who really loves you when you have money and
power."

"You were a lawyer right?"

Spike nodded.

"Ever hear of a Lindsey McDonald?"

Spike grinned. "Nope. But I want to."

Angel regarded Spike thoughtfully. "What do you want from my sister?"

"Everything. Not in the sick, possessive kind of way, but in the ‘I want her
to be happy way.'"

"And you want her to be happy with you," Angel summed up.

"I won't lie. Yes. But I'm not going to push her for that. She needs to find
her way first. She feels she doesn't have any control right now."

"You see that too?"

"She told me. In a round about way."

Angel huffed. "You know more than I do then. She doesn't tell me much of
anything." He shook his head and frowned, frustrated.

"I wouldn't take it as a bad thing. I'm not related to her, I don't have a
large history with her—I'm still an outsider. Sometimes it's easier to tell an
outsider what you're feeling rather than someone you're close to."

"I know. . . it's just hard. It's like before sometimes. . . " Angel trailed off,
twirling his cup in front of him and frowning.

"Before the accident?"

"Can you at least tell me what she says about Lindsey? Does she love him?
Is she happy with him?"

Spike sat back, now he too frowned. "I honestly don't know what to make
of her relationship with him. I think she feels she owes him something."

"No doubt he makes her feel like she does," Angel muttered.

Spikes head snapped to Angel. "You don't like him."

Angel smiled, "What gave it away?"

"What's his deal?"

"Well, how about I cut you a deal there Spike?"

Spike eyed him warily. "What kind of deal?"

"Keep an eye out on my sister. I'm pretty good at reading people, and from
what I've seen here tonight from the moment you and Buffy walked in the
apartment earlier was that you were good for her. You were making her
smile again. You make her happy, you make me happy. Lindsey—doesn't
make me happy. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him and it's not like
Buffy will tell me anything. Before OR after the accident. She seems to trust
you and opens up to you. Whatever you find out about him, I want to know
about it."

"And what do I get in return for that?" Spike asked warily.

"My support. Look, I'm not doing this to be deceitful to Buffy. I'm not
trying to control her; I'm trying to get to the bottom of things."

"What things exactly? I think I should know what kind of ‘things'you're
looking for. You're suddenly the puppet master here; I feel I should be kept
abreast of what it is you're exactly looking for." He was sounding defensive
and angry and Angel couldn't exactly blame him.

He stared at Spike, weighing it out in his mind. To tell or not to tell? He
might have more to gain than lose if seeing Buffy so happy with Spike was
any indication.

"I think Lindsey had something to do with her accident," Angel finally said.

Spike's eyes widened. "What?" he whispered.

"He ‘found' her lying on the bottom of stairs when he came home."

Spike's eyes darkened in anger. "You think he pushed her?"

"Yes."

Spike was clenching his jaw. It twitched as he stuck out his hand. "You've
got yourself a deal then."

Angel smiled and shook his hand. "I realize I came on a little rough—to
stealthy and covert op, but I need to protect Buffy. I don't want to send her
into the lions den. She shut me out before when it came to him and I feel
that she has a second chance now. She only recalls a month of her time with
him. The ‘honeymoon' phase in any relationship."

"You're worried what'll happen after the honeymoon," Spike nodded,
balling his hands in fists.

"Right."

Spike met his eyes. "They call me Spike for a reason. You want to take
Lindsey down? I'm your guy."

"And if you hurt my sister? I'll chop your dick off, got it?"

Spike smiled, "I'd chop my own dick off."

"Just as long as we're clear."




A/N: Just how long was she gone? lol

Starting

"Have you seen Lindsey lately?" Angel asked Buffy later after William had left them for the night. Brother and sister sat in their living room watching mindless TV.

Buffy shook her head and then sighed. "I think we have plans tomorrow
night."

"So, William seems like a cool guy."

Buffy broke out into a smile. "He really is."

"How do you know him?"

Now she was blushing. "Uh, well, that's complicated. . . "

"Care to share? Maybe I can help unravel the complexity."

She shot him a look and shook her head. "I doubt it."

"Try me."

"Really rather not."

"What happened to trusting me?"

He had her there. "I do trust you. However, you're also my big brother and
I DO remember how protective you can be."

"That's true. But why not trust that I'll listen with an open mind and not do
anything to stop your friendship with William."

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Angel nudged her, "Come on imp. Tell me."

Buffy sighed and turned, giving him her full attention. Angel muted the TV.

"All I know is that he and I had some kind of relationship," she told him
after taking a deep breath.

Angel blinked. "Care to elaborate?"

"Supposedly we met on a trip I took to Rhode Island—which you never
told me about."

Angel shrugged. "I didn't think telling you about some trip you took by
yourself was all that important. You never came back and said something
life changing happened. In light of all the other life changing events going
on, taking a trip seemed the least of them. Know what I mean?"

"I do. But . . . was I having problems with Lindsey, Angel?"

She sounded concerned, worried. Angel took a deep breath. "If you did,
you didn't let on to me."

She studied him. "I didn't?" she said finally.

"You didn't. You uh . . . kind of well, shut me out."

"Why?" she truly did not understand that.

"Oh well, you're stubborn and pig headed. You get an idea in your head
and you don't let it go."

"I don't think I'm like that anymore," she said softly, looking down. She
grabbed a throw pillow and started to play with the trim.

"Some things have altered Buffy, but only because you're still trying to find
your way. But you're still Buffy to the core. I'm sure that side of you will
come out in time."

"I feel broken Angel," Buffy admitted.

"Broken?"

"Yeah, broken. It's the only way to describe it. I feel like I have pieces of
me all over except I can't fit them back together in any pattern." A tear
slipped from her eye at that and in an instant Angel wrapped her arms
around her.

"Think of it as making new pieces and fitting them back. Some things just
aren't important enough for you to feel like you have to remember them.
And you certainly don't have to remember to please anyone."

"Well it's not like I can put a rush order on those memories anyway. The
doctors said that I might not ever get them back."

"Exactly. So don't stress yourself out about it. Don't make yourself feel
something you don't feel and don't push yourself to do something that you
don't feel you can do. Yeah, you lost three years. But you have three years
ahead of you in which to make new memories. It's like a clean slate."

"That's what William said," Buffy murmured against Angels shoulder.

Angel grinned. "I knew I liked him for a reason. Can you tell me more
about him?'

"We had some kind of relationship while I was in Rhode Island. He came
looking for me."

"From L.A.? He came looking for you from L.A.?" Angel asked in shock and
drew Buffy away from him, holding onto her arms.

She nodded.

"Buffy, you never mentioned him."

"I gathered." She looked down. "Do you think he's lying?"

Angel sighed heavily. "The weird thing is? I don't. I mean that would be
some story to make up and since you DID take a trip to Rhode Island. . . I
just wonder . . ."

"What?"

"Why you never mentioned him."

Buffy shrugged, "Lindsey? He could be why. I just don't understand
myself. If I was so happy with Lindsey—"

"I said I didn't know if you were Buffy. You could have been miserable for
all you let me know about it," he sounded bitter.

Buffy winced. "I'm sorry."

Angel shook his head, "Buffy, I'm sorry. I suppose that didn't help. I don't
want you to feel guilty for things you don't remember—Did William make
you feel guilty for whatever it was that you did?"

She shook her head, "No, he didn't. He's just . . . there. He didn't want to
lose me again and he didn't want to pressure me into anything. He just
wants to spend time with me."

Angel smiled broadly. "That's something then."

"You like him huh?"

Angel nodded, "I do."

"What about Lindsey?"

"I think that's a question you need to start asking yourself Buffy."



"So this is your office," Spike grinned as Buffy ushered him into her office
the day before she was to start back to work.

She nodded slowly, a feeling of dread come over her as she stepped into
the office. She sat down at her desk and tried to focus on breathing.

"Buffy? What's wrong luv?" Spike asked, kneeling in front of her.

"Nothing," she said and her voice sounded strained.

"It's something. Tell me, let me help." He took her hands in his and gazed
up at her imploringly.

"It's just that . . . I started working here right after college. I'd been
promoted to events coordinator during the time I lost. I'm scared I won't
remember how to do my job," she explained fearfully.

"They know don't they Buffy?"

She nodded, "But it's not like they can keep me on just out of pity."

"They can't fire you if you're sick."

"Oh so that's what I am now? Sick?" she tried to push at him.

He stayed in place and didn't give her any room to move. "That's not what
I meant. I meant that they can't fire you because of an accident and the
outcome of which is out of your control."

"They can't keep me on for it either. They'll have to train me all over again.
. . "

"Buffy, did you ride a bike as a kid?"

She furrowed her brow, "Yeah."

"Well, don't you think this may be just like that?"

"No, how can it possibly? Riding a bike is instinct. This is. . . a lot of
thinking and knowing contacts."

Spike pointed to what looked like a rolodex. "Contacts. So, tell me Miss
Summers, I want to arrange an event. I want . . . to have an Italian
showing. What would you do for me?"

She took a deep breath, "I would find out what pieces we had already to
centralize it in the display and then I'd start contacting other dealers in the
area and out of the area. I'd get my assistant—do I have an assistant?—to
draw up a letter requesting assistance and I'd call the Graphics Department
to do up a poster and meet with them-" her eyes widened. "I do know
what I'm doing!"

"See?" he grinned.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I mean a lot of
that stuff I was doing when I got here, and I know there are some more
details in there, but I have the basics down."

"And as long as you can start at square one, you can't go wrong. The rest
will fall into place and I highly doubt that they'll deny you if you ask for help
Buffy."

"What would I do without you?" she blurted out. Her eyes widened and
she drew back from him. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. It just
came out of my mouth and sometimes I guess I don't—"

Spike placed a finger to her lips, quieting her. "Sssh." Leaning in closer, he
removed his finger and kissed her mouth. It was more than a peck, but less
than a full kiss. Her lips tingled just the same and she found herself wanting
more. He drew back just an inch. "I'm glad you said it," he whispered.

Her eyes were half mass, feeling something akin to ecstasy at his close
proximity to her. Her palms were itching and her skin felt warm. She
couldn't stop herself from closing the gap between them and pressing her
lips to his for something more than that peck, and maybe closer to a full
blown kiss. And when his tongue trailed the seam of her lips, urging her to
part and she did, she knew she was getting her full blown kiss. His hands
tangled in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss and she heard
herself moan in response. Lightly she placed her hands on his shoulders and
felt her fingertips dig in, bracing herself for the onslaught of emotion he was evoking in her. She was being swept away.

She broke away to breathe, cursing the need to do so. He held her close to
him, his breathing as ragged as hers and he gazed into her eyes.

"What was that?" she asked him.

He smiled. "A kiss Buffy."

She rolled her eyes. "I know but—"

"Don't question it okay? Just let yourself feel and don't think."

She nodded.

"Can I just say ‘wow'?" he grinned.

She laughed. "I take your ‘wow' raise you an ‘oh boy!'"

He smirked proudly and stood, grabbing her hands and bringing her to
stand. "Come on luv. Show me around some more?"

She nodded, suppressing the urge to caress her well kissed lips. She
straightened and tried to get her brain functioning again as she led William out of her office and into the museum. She was pleased to find she still
knew her way around.

Second Thoughts

“You’re thinking about it,” Spike whispered in Buffy’s ear as they sat on a bench, watching the ocean outside the Boston Harbor Hotel. After dinner they had decided to sit for a while and just watch the water. He’d made sure to keep her busy after the kiss so that she wouldn’t dwell on it, but he knew it would inevitably catch up to him. He supposed it was better to happen while she was with him than when alone. That way when the shoe dropped, he could be there to pick it up. As soon as silence had fallen between them, he knew her mind had drifted to it. His did, so it wasn’t absurd to think hers had too. Course, it’d been in the back of his mind all day. The way she tasted, the way her breasts squashed against his chest, her hands digging in his shoulders, her moan of pleasure, the softness and the fullness of her lips, the way her hair felt between his fingers as he held her in place . . . Yeah, he remembered all too well. He was bloody well consumed by it.

“I am,” she admitted without hesitating. She looked up at him. “It was wrong of me to do that.”

“Did it feel right?”

“Doesn’t matter how it felt.”

“That’s all that matters,” he countered.

“Really?” she asked challengingly. “So, let’s say we
were in a relationship and I kissed another man behind your
back. If I told you it felt right, would that be all that matters?
Would you forgive me that slight because it ‘felt right’?”



She had him there and he knew it.

“That’s what I thought,” she said, a tad smugly.

Spike turned his body in towards hers and reached
out, toying with a strand of her silky hair. He was starting to
feel that if he didn’t touch her, he’d go mad. Not only that, but
maybe if she remembered how felt it right to touch him . . .

“Buffy, were you disappointed when Lindsey
cancelled plans with you for tonight?”

She hesitated.

“Honest,” he ordered her.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t have to see him and feel bad that I
didn’t remember our relationship and have him look at me like
a lost puppy,” she blurted out.

“Do I make you feel that way?”

She looked at him and shook her head. “Not the point,
William!”

“You don’t love him, Buffy, that’s the WHOLE point.”

“I don’t love you either,” she retorted.

That hurt. He had to expect it though. How could he
expect her to love him? She’d known him for an even lesser
amount of time than Lindsey.

“You feel something for me,” he finally said, quietly.

“Yes, I do,” she admitted. “It doesn’t make it right for
me to go off and kiss you when I have a boyfriend.” She
stood up and faced him. “Apparently I’m not as loyal as I
thought I was.”

“It felt right, though, didn’t it?”

“That doesn’t make it okay for me to go around kissing
you!” she exclaimed in frustration. “I love how you have all
the answers, William. All the answers that suit you and your
purposes.”

Spike stood, standing inches from her. “And what is
my purpose Buffy? Tell me what you think my purpose is.”

“To get me to leave Lindsey so I’ll be with you instead.”

“Buffy,” he sighed and took a step back. He dug in his
pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. She watched him silently
as he lit up. “I’m not going to lie to you Buffy, I do want you
with me. Because I love you.”

She inhaled sharply and took another step back. He
tossed his cigarette and stepped up to her, taking her by the
arms. “And part of loving you means I’ll do whatever it takes
to make you happy. If you’re truly happy with Lindsey, then I’ll
not do a thing to stop you from being with him.”

She snorted at that.

“I mean it,” he ground out. “I won’t lift a finger.”

“Then you’d just walk out of my life if I asked?”

He shook his head. “No, you mistake me. I’m not
strong enough to just walk away Buffy. And as giving as I
can be, I can also be a selfish bastard. I can’t just walk out of
your life now Buffy. I’m not capable of that. Part of loving you
means I have to stay in your life and make sure that you’re
kept happy.”

She looked down at her feet, shifted them. He let her
go and waited.

“What happened with us?” she finally asked.

Spike took a deep breath. “We spent time together and
one night . . . we made love. You left me the next morning.
Left before I was even awake and I couldn’t find you. It was
like you disappeared into thin air. I entertained the thought that
I imagined you for a bit.”

“And I never told you about Lindsey?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“I wonder if my accident was my payback,” she

murmured.

“What?” he asked, startled.

“Perhaps I was self destructive in my affair with you.
Why would I do that? I don’t understand. I thought I was the
sort of person that stayed, fully stayed and never strayed
once I was in love –“ she stopped abruptly.

“Answer your own question as to why then pet?”

“Perhaps.”

“Why do you stay? Why do you stay if you hate the
way he looks at you? If you hate that you feel guilt for not
remembering, why do you stay?”

“Because of the guilt. I feel like maybe if I stay and try
my best, if I make him happy by being the doting girlfriend, my own guilt will be alleviated.”

“It’s not working though, is it?”

“I’m doing the best that I can.” She stopped, clamping
her mouth shut. “You know what? This is not the
conversation I should be having with you anyway. You just
said you’re in love with me. Of COURSE you want me to
question my relationship and feelings to him. The last person I
should be discussing my relationship or lack thereof, is with
you,” she started to walk away.

Spike grabbed her arm. “Don’t walk away from this
Buffy.”

“There is no this!” she exclaimed, wrenching her arm
free. “This is just another case of Buffy not being able to do
anything right. I can’t remember anything, I don’t know
anyone . . . I can’t please anyone—“

“You please me.”

“Because I kissed you and agreed to meet you. You
want me to ask questions and get to the bottom of things, but
you only want me to do it so it’ll benefit you, not me!”

“I want you to ask so you’ll feel more in control.
Because in the short time that I’ve known you, you would
never do anything intentionally to hurt anyone so the fact that
you’re stressing about the fact that we had an affair, that
you kissed me today, tells me that you ARE loyal and you DO
care about others. It tells me that you don’t cheat, but that
something is wrong with the picture he’s painted for you and
he’s guilted you into staying with him.”

“I do that to myself, he doesn’t—“ she broke off,
flexing her fists.

“Except when he gives you puppy dog eyes.”

Buffy sighed heavily and after a long time finally
looked up at him and met his eyes. “You’re absolutely right.”

He held his breath. “About?”

“I need to follow my gut. Ask questions. All of it.”

“And that means?”

“My gut is telling me that something is wrong here.”

“What does that mean Buffy?”

She smirked, “You mean what does that mean for us
right?”

“Thought there was no ‘us’.” He couldn’t help but
retort bitterly.

She stood straighter and looked at him
defiantly. “You’re right. There isn’t.”

Immediately, Spike softened and moved closer
to her. “Buffy, what are you thinking?”

She gazed up at him with her wide green eyes
and he saw nothing but tenderness there, the hard edge
from moments before gone. “Nothing bad,” she said softly.

“What is it?” Spike pressed, placing his hand on
her forearm, resisting the urge to pull her closer to him and
not let go.

“I think I’m just going to need to take some time
and sort it all out—“

He shook his head. “No,” and he wrapped his
fingers around her arm.

“Spike, I’m not leaving you. I start work
tomorrow –“

“And you need me now, more than ever,” he
insisted.

“I need to stand on my own two feet. I need to
take control of my life. Please Spike, just let me.”

He stared at her, caressing the side of her
face. “I just want to be there,” he whispered. “I want to be
part of it all.”

She smiled, “I know. But I don’t want you to lead
me and I don’t want to lean on you too much. I need to be my
own person. Please, Spike, let me.”
“How long?”

“A few days. I’ll call you.”

His grip tightened. “Promise?”

She nodded. “Promise.”

“I love you Buffy.”

“I know.”

Welcome home?

The first few hours back to work had gone by in a flash. By lunch time Buffy was famished. Some things she remembered, other things took some time and explanation. An odd occurrence had happened early that morning when she had needed to contact a dealer in Connecticut, a dealer she had been told she dealt with quite a bit. Taking his name down, she had sat at her desk and picked up the phone without thinking and dialed. At the first ring, she had slammed the phone down, her heart hammering in her chest. Surely that had to be a breakthrough! Forgoing the dealer for that moment, she called Angel immediately. She almost felt bad when she had taken him out of his class, but he was the first person she thought of. He'd been just as excited as she and promised to stop by at his lunch hour.

Now, looking at the clock, she wasn't sure if she could wait for him to eat.

"Knock, knock."

She looked up to see the receptionist in the doorway.

"Hi Anna, what's up?" Buffy greeted her.

"Special delivery for Miss Summers," and with a smile she thrust out a
small box wrapped in white tissue paper.

"Who from?" Buffy asked, taking the box.

"Tall guy. With blond hair. He just wanted to see that you got that."

Buffy darted to the door. "Did he leave?"

"Just walked out. He didn't ask—"

Her words faded out as Buffy ran out in the hall and down to the exit, she
burst through the door and saw William's blond head heading toward the
exit.

"Spike!" she shouted after him.

He stopped abruptly and froze. Slowly he turned; his expression blank.

She started toward him, smirking. "Didn't want to give it to me yourself?"

He looked down and chuckled softly. "Just wanted to go incognito I guess."

She stood before him. "You know when I said I needed a few days, I didn't
mean that you couldn't stop and give me presents. You can ALWAYS give
me presents." She grinned teasingly at him.

He met her eyes and grinned. "I didn't want you to feel like I was crowding
you."

"Even though it's only been less than twenty –four hours, I'm glad to see
you," she told him honestly.

"That how long it's been? Felt like an eternity," he whispered reverently.
Then he cleared his throat. "You going to open it?"

She tore her gaze from him and shook her head, "Oh yes. Of course." She
tore into the tissue and opened the small cream box.

"Careful. It's breakable," he warned her.

Nodding she slipped carefully out into her palm whatever was inside. She
gasped when she saw it. It was a glass butterfly. It had a string attached to
it.

"So you can hang it in your window," he told her.

She held it out and smiled when the light caught it and it sent off rainbows
around them.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"It is," he whispered.

She looked to him to find him starting at her with barely concealed
tenderness.

"Thank you," she said smiling softly.

"You're welcome," and he nodded, digging his hands in his pockets. "So
how is it going by the way?"

"Excellent. I had a memory. Well, sort of."

His eyes widened. "Tell me about it."

She told him what had occurred with the phone number and he broke out
in a broad smile. "Buffy, that's excellent!"

"Thanks. I'm not really sure what to call it, but it made me happy. I called
Angel, he's coming to meet me for lunch."

"I'll bet he's thrilled."

"Yeah. Isn't it funny how something as silly as remembering a phone
number can be such a monumental thing?"

"Baby steps. Pretty soon, you'll be spreading those wings and flying."

"Thank you for the butterfly," she told him softly.

"Reminded me of you."

Stepping away from him slowly, she gave him a little wave, clutching her
butterfly in her other hand. "Bye Spike."

"Not good bye. See you later," he called after her.

She nodded, "See you later."



Lindsey had insisted on picking her up after work and taking her back to
his place for dinner. She'd been hesitant. She was exhausted between a
remembered phone number, her brief and yet meaningful meeting with
William, a exuberant Angel and her job; Buffy was ready to get take out,
grab a bottle of wine and curl up with a mindless sitcom before taking a
warm bath and heading off to bed. Yet Lindsey insisted. She didn't like his
insisting. It irritated her. She had wanted to bark at him that she was the
one with the head trauma and should probably take it easy. In the end
though, she'd relented when it occurred to her that perhaps just like the
phone number incidence, maybe being in the house that she had lived in
with Lindsey would spark some memories for her. She hadn't spent any
time in the house since the accident. She'd gone in and gone out, not
wanting to be in a place that was foreign to her and caused her to feel guilty
over not remembering her stay there.

Pulling into the driveway of the soft yellow Colonial with the dark shutters,
Buffy felt trepidation. Her hands balled themselves in fists.

"Buffy, relax. Nothing here is going to hurt you," Lindsey said gently and took her hands in his, soothing the fists open.

"It's silly, I know."

"It's okay."

Entering the house, she was greeted instantly by the carpeted stairs she'd
taken a tumble down. She stared at them as if they would give her the
answers she needed. Taking deep breaths to relax, she still found her
muscles wound tight. Why in the world was this so hard?

"Can I go upstairs?" she asked him.

He looked startled. "Of course. Do you want me to show you around
again?"

"No. I want to do it alone."

He nodded. "I'll start dinner."

"Okay," and she started up the stairs. Spike's voice suddenly came into her
head unbidden. ‘Listen to your gut.'

Gliding up the stairs and letting her fingertips drift over the cool wooden
rail she stopped at the top and turned around, staring down at the
staircase, at the floor she had fallen to. Turning to the left, she spotted an
archway and entered inside. The Master Bedroom. Creams, browns and
reds gave the room an earthy, homey look. However, it didn't ‘feel' homey.
It felt . . . cold. Wrapping her arms around herself she walked around the
room, not even noticing the scattered furniture, but focusing on how the
room was making her feel. She stopped and stared at the bed. The bed her
and Lindsey shared at one time. She shivered.

Heading straight for the right side, the one closest to the bathroom she
offhandedly noted, she stared up at the canopy. Her stomach was twisted in
knots. Anxiety. Fear. Loneliness.

"How did you know that was your side of the bed?"

She jumped a near mile, nearly spilling off the bed and hitting her head on
the nightstand next to the bed. Lindsey reached out and steadied her.
"Buffy? You all right?"

"I want to go to the bathroom," she said hastily and made her way into the
bathroom.

"Buffy?" Lindsey knocked on the door.

"I'm fine!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" I don't know, she thought.

She listened for his footsteps walking across the carpeted floor before
staring at herself in the mirror, not really seeing herself at all. "Medicine
cabinet," she told herself. She took a deep breath. "Floss, toothbrush,
sleeping pills, Tylenol, eye mask and aftershave," she recited. She opened
the medicine cabinet and found all the items she'd just named, plus one. She
grabbed it. It was unnamed, just a clear tan bottle of pills. Interesting. She
placed it back and shut the medicine cabinet.

Feeling hot, she turned on the tap and splashed her face with water. She
nearly screamed in surprise when she caught Lindsey in the mirror behind
her as she dried her face with the hand towel.

"What are you doing?" she barked at him.

"I'm worried about you. You're all tense," he placed a hand on her back
and she jumped. "See?"

"I'm fine. Just weird being here. . . "

"Do you remember anything?" his voice trembled with something . . . fear.

"No."

"You're pale Buffy. You need some color on those cheeks. I think I still
have some make up of yours here," and he started to rummage in one of
the drawers at the sink.

"I don't need make up Lindsey. I don't want to—"

"Here, put some on. You look deathly pale and washed out."

She looked down at the makeup he was thrusting at her. "I don't want to
wear it. I just washed my face. "

"Buffy, why are you arguing with me on this?

She knit her eyebrows. "I'm not arguing with you."

"Just put some make up. Make yourself all pretty for me," he said
coaxingly and grinned.

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not pretty without my make up?"

He faltered. "No, that's not it. I just like it when you wear it."

She looked down at the tubes and brushes in his hand and then up at him.
"Well, I don't want to wear it."

"Fine," and he all but slammed the articles back in the drawer before
stalking out. She stared after him, wondering what the hell had just
happened. She wanted to go home. She didn't want to be there anymore.
She felt a long way from home and she itched to call Angel. Making her way
out of the bathroom she found Lindsey sitting on the bed with his head in
his hands.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, startling her. He frowned when she jumped.
"I came on too strong. I'm sorry."

Why was she so damn skittish? "Why did you get so upset with me over
makeup?"

He stood, "It used to be my favorite thing to do in the morning. Watch you
put it on. I always liked watching you do it for some reason. It was like
watching the whole process you went through to get ready made me feel
closer to you somehow. I thought maybe if you put it on and I could watch
you like I used to in the morning while I shaved you . . . "

"Would remember," she finished.

He nodded. "I'm sorry I pushed you." He closed the distance and wrapped
his arms around him, tightening his arms when she stiffened. "Don't be
afraid of me, Buffy," he whispered.

She forced herself to relax. "I'm not afraid of you," she replied, thinking it
odd that he said that. She'd been annoyed with him, not afraid. Startled
with his angry outburst and unsure what to do, but surely not afraid. She
didn't understand it at all. She felt as if she were cracking up.

"Can we go out to eat instead?" she blurted out.

He pulled back and looked at her searchingly. "You don't want to stay in?"

She shook her head. "No. I want to go out. Is that okay?"

He smiled softly, "Of course Buffy. Anything my darlin' wants she gets," he
cooed at her.

It wasn't until they pulled out of the driveway that Buffy finally relaxed.

Intuition

"Buffy, come on in. How are you?" Tara McClay, Buffy's doctor neurologist smiled as she ushered Buffy into her office. It'd been a few days since her experience at Lindsey's and Buffy felt the need to see the doctor that had been assigned to her case to possibly get some answers.

"I'm good, thanks. How are you?"

Tara smiled. "Not very often that a patient asks a doctor that."

"Yeah, well, I'm not like most patients. Or people for that matter.

"I'd have to agree with that. My first amnesiac," Tara told her and sat
down at her chair while Buffy sat across from her.

"So, even though I'm the first, is it possible that you could answer some
questions for me?"

"Of course. Or, at the very least, try my very best from what I do know of
amnesia."

"Okay," Buffy took a deep breath and started to play with the straps of her
purse in her lap. She wasn't quite sure how to start.

Tara tilted her head to the side, "What's on your mind Buffy? Something
happen?"

"I'm not sure . . . Well, yes. But not really?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Tara chuckled. "At this rate, we won't get
anywhere."

Buffy relayed what happened with the remembered phone number and
then launched into the Lindsey fiasco. "I felt tense when I got in the house.
But I just chalked it up to the fact that it was the place of my accident, the
place where I literally lost my memories. Plus, the place I lived at with
Lindsey and have no recollection of."

"Some guilt there perhaps?"

"Yes. But he doesn't make me feel guilty. Well, he does when he wants to
rekindle what we had and I can tell he gets frustrated when I slow him
down."

"Have you told him it makes you uncomfortable?"

"Well . . . No."

"I think that would be a good first start. How do you feel about him?"

Buffy smiled. "Are you a neurologist or psychologist?"


Tara chuckled. "Little of both at times."

"I feel . . . uneasy about him. Unsure."

"Because of the guilt?"

"Among other things. . . " Buffy trailed off, looking away.

"Like?"

"He was intense when I was there. Really intense. He got on this kick
about makeup. . . " and Buffy explained what happened.

"How did you feel before you knew the reasons why he was on the makeup
train?"

"I felt like he was telling me I wasn't good enough without the makeup. He
just kept forcing the issue . . . I didn't get it."

"Did it sound like he was trying to control you?"

"I guess I didn't really put that much thought into his actions, I was just
feeling confused and overwhelmed by the other emotions whirling inside of
me by just being there."

"Tell me more about your visit," Tara urged.

"Okay, well, I went to the bedroom and lay down on the bed we shared. I
felt tense still. I felt anxious and lonely with this underlying fear laced
through. When I went into the bathroom, before I opened the medicine
cabinet, I recited the items in there. I knew what they were—like the
phone number. I just knew and recited it."

Tara's eyes widened. "That's excellent Buffy."

"Yeah, but. . .What does it mean? I mean does that mean my memories
are coming back? How can I know this stuff without it bringing back actual
memories? How can I FEEL these things but have no memory of what
could have made me feel that way?"

Tara leaned in, "Buffy do you believe in reincarnation?"

"Uh, yeah, I do. Why? Is this another one of those ‘I have a second chance'
speeches? I've heard enough about those from Spike and Angel already."

"Spike?" Tara quirked an eyebrow.

"Long story. Continue please."

"Well, see, my girlfriend is a witch—"

"And so are you."

Tara froze.

"I saw your pentacle," Buffy said sheepishly. "It doesn't bother me. It
actually comforts me. Which is part of the reason why I thought aside from
the scientific approach to why I experienced whatever it was that I
experienced, you probably had another approach too."

Tara smiled. "I do, bear with me."

"Okay, go ahead," Buffy gestured for her to continue.

"Well, there are some theories in reincarnation about what the soul
remembers from each life. Do you have any phobias? Fear of heights or
anything that you can't really attribute to anything that happened when
you were younger?"

"From what I remember, I can't stand to have anything on my neck when
I go to bed. I can't even handle a shirt collar around my neck."

"Do you know why?"

"Nope. I used to wear t shirts all the time to bed when I was a teenager.
When I turned, I think twenty – one, I couldn't stand it anymore."

"Okay, that's good."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Good?"

"Well good that I can explain this better."

"Oh. Ok."

"There is a theory that things like that—a sudden aversion to something
you were fine with before has to do with something that happened to you in
a past life. In other words, your sudden aversion at the age of twenty one to
having things around your neck when going to bed could be because your
soul or your spirit if you will remembers that at the age of twenty one in a
previous life, you were strangled to death."

"Oh!" Buffy exclaimed, horrified.

"It's like . . . my girlfriend Willow for example. If she comes home late at
night, she automatically puts her hand over heart while unlocking the door.
She believes she was murdered by a knife through the heart at night and
that is her subconscious protecting her from the attack. Some even say that
a rare birthmark is the mark of something that happened in a previous life
and your spirit carries it over into the next life to remind you, or just
because what happened was so intense, it hasn't cleansed itself from you
yet."

"So . . . what are you saying exactly? That my feelings on the house are
related somehow to what happened? We knew that though. I had the
accident there."

"I'm saying that what you feel about that house, in the rooms where the
accident did not happen could be directly related to what happened in your
relationship with Lindsey."

Buffy's heart was racing. "Are you saying that he could have hurt me?"

"Maybe not physically," Tara said carefully. She sighed deeply. "Buffy . . .
The uncertainty you feel around Lindsey could have more to do with what
your relationship was and less to do with your amnesia and feelings of guilt
and inadequacy. It might not be you at all."

"It could be him," Buffy said softly.

"Your subconscious is connected to your soul. It often knows what you
need, want and feel or what is going to happen before you consciously know
it."

"Your gut," Buffy said simply.

"Right. Intuition."

"So these feelings I'm having could actually be memories of another sort?"

"Right."

Buffy stood on shaky legs. "Thanks doc."

"Buffy, are you all right?" Tara asked, concerned as she stood.

"I'm uh . . . fine. Just gave me a lot to think about."

"Buffy, do you trust Lindsey?"

"I don't know."

"Do you really not know or are you afraid to know?" Tara asked.

"Both."



Thoughts heavy in her mind, Buffy made her way to her favorite café to
grab a latte on the way home. She'd been so busy at work lately, and her
mind had been working overtime at night going over things in her mind
about her experience at Lindsey's, her feelings and missing Spike . . . she
hadn't been sleeping well and found she needed more and more caffeine as
the days went by just to keep her going. She was considering looking into
sleeping pills, but didn't want to get addicted either. Now she felt a
headache coming on as she stood in line and she was sure it was a mix of all
the information Tara had piled up on her along with the fact that she was
lacking caffeine. He mind was swamped and taxed at the moment. All deep
thoughts of Lindsey and her feelings were going to have to wait for the time
being.

"Hey luv."

Spike's voice purring in her ear brought tears to her eyes. She turned to
find him behind her, smiling warmly at her.

Without even thinking she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him
in a fierce bear hug. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled deeply. "I
missed you."

His arms wrapped around her instantly and he held her tightly against
him. "I missed you too, luv. So bloody much. Are you all right?"

"I – I just had a long day."

"Miss? You ordering?"

The clerk behind the counter was asking her, but she was too caught up in
Spike to notice.

Disengaging her a bit from his body, which earned a sound of protest from
Buffy, Spike sauntered up to the counter, his arm about her shoulders.
"Order kitten and then tell Spike all about it okay?"

She looked up at him and nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as she
gave her order. She hadn't decided just how much she was going to tell
Spike yet, so she was glad to have the reprieve of ordering coffee to figure it
out.

A/N: That make sense? Did I, or rather, Tara explain that okay?

Just Breathe

"Mmm…Didn't realize how hungry I was until I saw those warm bagels come out," Buffy told Spike, with a mouthful of bagel and cream cheese.

Spike grinned at her as he sipped his coffee and watched her. "Next time
maybe you want some more bagel to go with that cream cheese?"

Buffy giggled and covered her mouth with her napkin.

"It's good?"

"Best bagel I've ever had!" she said enthusiastically.

Spike chuckled. "Wanna tell me what happened today?"

She focused on her bagel to avoid his eyes. She couldn't look at him and lie
to him. "Just one of them days, ya know?"

"You looked upset Buffy. Did something bad happen?"

"William, it's okay. Just a bad day and it was nice to see you after. . . " she
trailed off and took a bite of her bagel.

He quirked an eyebrow. "After?"

She swallowed and leaned back in her chair, studying him. "Did you always
follow your intuition as a lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever get bad feelings about the clients you had?"

"Yes."

"What did you do when you did?"

"Found out what they were keeping from me. Nine times out of ten they
were keeping something from me when I got that feeling."

"And the way you chose your clients?

"Same thing. My intuition. I didn't want to involve myself into something
where I felt that I couldn't represent them in good faith. Most often if
something feels fishy; it's usually because it is. Where is this coming from?
You been doing some investigation?" His tone was light and he didn't name
what she was ‘investigating' but Buffy knew. He was asking if she had been
investigating Lindsey.

"Well, remember how I told you about the phone thing?

"When you remembered the number even though you didn't remember
the dealer?"

"Yeah, well, I've been doing some investigating about psychic ability and
intuition and all that and I've heard that your subconscious knows things
before your conscious does and that intuition is basically a reflection of that.
So my dialing and ‘remembering' the phone number even though I had no
clue of the dealer could be because my subconscious stored it and it just
came out of me."

Spike nodded slowly. "Makes sense. So then your relationships with others
could be based on the same theory. If someone makes you feel
uncomfortable when you're with them, or makes you happy or sad or
whatever, it could be your subconscious telling you what kind of
relationship you had with them during those years you don't remember."

She pointed at him and waggled her finger. "I know what you're getting
at."

"What's that?"

"I'm not saying, but I know."

"What have you learned Buffy?" he asked, seriously. The look on his face
solemn.

She looked down. "I learned that I missed you," she said lightly.

Reaching across the table, Spike took her hands in his and kissed them.
"Buffy, I was going out of my mind. . . " he told her, his voice cracking with
emotion. "I wanted to see you so bad and you told me to keep my distance .
. . I was giving it just one more day before I tracked you down."

"Here I am. Do you have plans tonight?"

He shook his head. "If I did, I'd cancel them."

She smiled. "Want to come over for dinner with me and Angel? I'll make
him make us pasta. Maybe we can all watch a movie."

Spike stood, still holding on to her hands, and guiding her up. "Love too
kitten."

Not being able to help herself from the comfort he so readily gave, Buffy
wrapped her arms around him again and sighed contentedly.



"You got a job? At BU? Teaching Law?" Buffy asked Spike excitedly as
they moved about the kitchen helping Angel make dinner.

Spike grinned. "Yep, I did. Turns out your brother has connections after
all."

Buffy poked Spike and then Angel. "Thanks for telling me Angel."

"Hey, it's not I've seen much of you and when I have, you grumble at me
that you're tired and take off to take a bath and go to bed."

"Still! That's important stuff."

"Figured he'd tell you himself anyway," Angel shrugged and continued to
grate the cheese.

Buffy ignored the comment and snatched a pinch of grated cheese. Angel
glared at her and she backed off, holding up her hands in surrender. Spike
chuckled and handed her a glass of wine.

Buffy smiled at him. She felt as if she hadn't felt so relaxed in a long, long
time. She felt so much at home. The apartment was scented and warmed
by their pasta dinner, they were light hearted and laughing, she felt as if
they were in a bubble and it was just the three of them. She had Angel, the
best brother anyone could ever ask for and Spike, the man who - - who
what? That she loved? She looked over at him as he and Angel teased each
other about something, and her heart warmed. Whatever she felt for Spike,
whatever she couldn't quite define and put a label on yet, she did know
without a doubt that she needed him. In such a short time, he had become
a rock to her. Much like Angel and yet definitely different. ‘Then why are
you with Lindsey?' A voice asked. ‘I'm not,' she answered. ‘Then why don't
you tell him what happened with Lindsey?' The voice urged. Because she
didn't know exactly ‘what' to tell him. That he freaked about some
makeup? That she was uncomfortable in his home? Then with everything
Tara had told her . . . Was it possible that her discomfort with Lindsey had
nothing to do with guilt and feeling he was still a stranger and something to
do with the fact that he could have been abusive to her during those three
years she lost? It wasn't like he was ever going to admit it. So then why
didn't she just walk away? She shivered. ‘He won't let you,' another voice
said, a voice that sounded much like her. A different sadder, lonelier her.

"Pet, you with us?"

She snapped out of her thoughts to find Spike standing in front of her,
smiling softly. He pushed some hair away from her face. "Where did you
go?"

"Must be the wine," she said airily. "Angel, how long does it take to make
friggen pasta for crying out loud?"

"Long when I'm the only one doing it!" Angel tossed back at her.

Buffy and Spike took the hint and scrambled to help him.



Plopping next to Spike on the couch, Buffy yawned loudly. Angel was
loading ‘Spinal Tap' in the DVD and looked over his shoulder at her.

"You gonna make it for the movie?"

"Of course! It's the freakin' weekend baby I'm about to have me some
fun!"

Spike chuckled and Angel groaned. Settling in, Angel dimmed the lights
and the movie began.

Buffy made it ten minutes into the movie and fell fast asleep. Spike figured
it out when she all but crashed into him, her head lolling onto his shoulder.
Cuddling her close, Spike wasn't willing to lose the chance to hold her in his
arms for a while.

Angel looked over from his recliner. "I knew she wasn't going to make it."

"Has she been okay lately?" Spike asked, concerned.

"Just distant like I told you. I thought at first it was her job, but the more I
think about it, it's been ever since she saw Lindsey at the beginning of the
week."

Spike frowned. "She say anything to you about it?"

Angel gave him a ‘are you kidding me?' look. "Yeah, right," he shook his
head. "It's just like before. I ask, she dodges."

"Something is up with her, Angel. I felt it today when I saw her. It's like
she's got the weight of the world on her shoulders."

"I know. I feel it too. I just don't know what to do short of tying her up and
making her tell me," Angel muttered.

"Not a half bad idea."

Angel shot him a look. "That's my sister. You don't do stuff like tying her
up, got it?"

"Got it," Spike said and grinned.

"You find out anything from Schreb yet?"

"Not yet. I've got some buddies looking into him too—"

"Stop talking," Buffy grumbled, cuddling closer to Spike and burying her
face in his chest.

Spike smiled tenderly. "How bout you go to bed kitten?"

"Fine here," she murmured.

"We'll stop talking then," Spike promised and he and Angel turned back to
the movie, glad that Buffy hadn't comprehended anything they'd just said.
She'd be furious if she knew they'd been conspiring together against
Lindsey. Probably even more furious if she knew Spike had hired his PI to
find out information about one Lindsey McDonald.

Uncomfortable Introduction

Buffy rolled onto her back and yawned. Her eyes popped open and she looked around. Yep, this was definitely her room however she definitely didn't remember making it to her bedroom. The last thing she remembered was Angel popping in ‘Spinal Tap' and then . . . nothing. She furrowed her brow. That meant either Spike or Angel had carried her to bed. Scratch that. Spike would have carried her to bed; Angel would have thrown a cover on her and left her on the couch. Now she felt disappointed. She didn't get to say goodbye to Spike or find out what he was up to that day.

She'd had so much fun the night before, and, she thought in wonderment,
she'd slept better than she had in long time. Apparently she really did need
Spike. Her body, able to relax for once told her that. She took pause at that
thought. If her body could tell her things like that, then her mind could too.
What Tara said rolled around in her mind as she crawled out of bed and
stretched. Using the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face and
padded to the kitchen to make some coffee. A soft snore sounded from the
living room and she halted her movements. Setting down the coffee pot, she
peered into the living room and found Spike on the couch. Her heart soared
and warmed at the same time. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched
him. He was laying on his back, one arm across his stomach, another under
his head. She could see his bare feet poking out from under the blanket that
was falling off his body and his chest—oh my. His chest was bare. She took
in the creamy skin, the well defined abs, all the planes and—

"It's impolite to stare you know."

His voice jarred her out of her lustful daze and she jumped a near mile.
"You suck!" she hissed and marched off. The sound of Spike's soft chuckle
followed her and cheeks flaming, she filled up the coffee pot.

"Mad at me?" he asked as he stepped into the kitchen, ruffling his hair and
yawning.

She turned to him. How could she be mad at the sight he presented? All
sleep tousled and cute. She shook her head, "No, I'm not mad. You just
scared me is all."

"Making coffee?"

She nodded and poured the water in the maker and flipped on the switch.
"So you stayed last night. Did you carry me to my bed?"

He nodded, "I did. Fell asleep right quick, you did." He sat down at the
table and toyed with his pack of cigarettes.


She sat down across from him. "What made you stay?"

"Exhausted and had too much wine. Didn't feel like trying to find my way
home in the dark."

"You've been here a month now William," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "Still."

She started to stand. "You want some breakfast? I was going to make
some scrambled eggs."

"How bout an omelet?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't know how to make them."

"I'll teach you."

"Shouldn't you put a shirt on?" she asked, pointing at his bare chest.

He smirked, "Making you uneasy having to look at all this perfect flesh?"

Buffy started to laugh and Spike frowned. "Thanks, pet."

"Sorry. You just cracked me up. You're so full of yourself."

"Not all the time, it's a front."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yep. With you, I'm bloody unsure about everything."

"Don't be. You're fine, more than fine," she assured him, smiling.

He grinned. "More than fine you say?"

"Yep, and that's all I'm giving you. Get a shirt on so you don't burn
yourself."

"Bossy chit," he muttered as he made his way to the living room.

"Don't make me get the whip," she called after him.

He stopped in his tracks and spun, his eyes dark with lust. "Did you say
whip?"


She rolled her eyes, "Go get your shirt on, ya perv."





"What are you doing?"

Spike and Buffy turned to see Angel standing in the kitchen, yawning with
his hair in all directions. His robe thrown on, he looked much like the little
boy that used to bound into her room on Christmas morning and make her
get out of bed so they could pounce on their parents to open presents.

"William is teaching me to make omelets," Buffy answered him.

"You really are crazy," Angel said in disbelief to Spike. "You're teaching her
how to cook."

"Hey! I'm not that bad," Buffy retorted defensively. Spike watched the
exchange, amused.

"Don't let her fool you. She's that bad," Angel warned him.

"Well so far she's doing great. With my help of course."

Buffy swatted him, "Don't encourage him."


"Come here," Spike said, putting his hands on her hips and placing her in
front of him at the stove. "Take the spatula and turn it over to fold it."

The heat from his body against her back sent a shiver through Buffy.
Strange how that could happen. Every part of her was intensely aware of
him. Every part of her ached for him.

"Hello?"

Immediately, she froze. Then sprang away as if she'd been burned by the
skillet.

"Lindsey, what are you doing here?" she asked, turning to greet the man
standing in the doorway. She felt something coil through her. Uncertainty.
She felt immediately on guard. It wasn't because she felt guilty either for

feeling things for Spike, for reacting to his body against hers. Instead she
felt she had to protect Spike, had to make sure that Lindsey suspected
nothing.

"What's going on?" Lindsey asked his voice tight as he stared at Spike and
pushed his way in the door. The screen door slammed behind him and

Buffy jumped.

"I uh- we're uh, making breakfast. Omelets. William is teaching me to
make omelets. Can you believe it? I'm learning to cook. So in no time I'll be
able to cook for –what are you doing here? What brings you by?"

Angel placed a hand on her shoulder. "Buffy, breathe."

"I—I'm fine. I'm just going to—" she grabbed Lindsey's arm. "Let's go talk
outside."

She dragged him out of the kitchen, down the stairs and outside. She
hadn't been able to look at either Spike or Angel, didn't want them to know.
She felt ashamed of it, ashamed of herself and confused and . . . she didn't
know what was happening to her.

"Who was that Buffy?" Lindsey demanded as soon as they were outside.

"He's a friend of Angels."

"And why were his hands all over you?"

She looked up at him. Lindsey raised his hand and Buffy jumped a near
mile.


He stopped its path to his hair and stared at her. "What's gotten into you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you so nervous and jumpy?" His brow furrowed and he looked
completely confused.

"I—" she shook her head. "I'm not."

"You just jumped," he pointed at her.

She took a step back from him. "What do you want Lindsey?"

His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. "I can't come and see my
girlfriend?"

"You can, I just didn't expect you. You should have called."

"Well, I didn't," he snapped.

"What do you want?" she snapped back.

His eyes narrowed. "Why are you so snappy with me?"

She gulped at the cold hard look in his eyes. She took a deep breath. "You
snapped first."

"Who is William?"

"A friend of Angel's," she blurted out. "He's gay."

Lindsey's expression softened immediately. "Oh. Well then, that changes
everything. Come out with me today."

"I can't." And I don't want to.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"I'm spending the day with Angel."

"Then come out with me later."

"I'll call you," she told him. "Just call next time will you?"

He pursed his lips together. "Yes, dear," he said sarcastically. "So I'll see
you tonight then?"

She sighed, "Lindsey—"

"Please?" now he sounded gentle and soft again.

"I'll call you."

"Dress nice. I'll take you out."

He wasn't listening and she didn't feel like pressing it. Didn't feel he would
listen and she would win this round. Since when did a relationship become
about winning? She watched him drive off and felt a coldness settle over
her body like a blanket. What had driven her to tell Lindsey William was
gay?

‘He'd kill him,' the voice in her head said softly. ‘You have to protect
William,' it told her.

What to do?

"Buffy, what the hell just happened?"

Buffy spun to see Angel coming towards her, a determined look on his face.

"What do you mean?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

His eyes bugged. "Are you kidding me? Buffy, you acted as if you were
ready for a throw down in the kitchen. You were afraid Buffy. Petrified." He
wagged his finger at her. "And don't try to deny it Buffy. I'm your brother
and have known you since you were in diapers. You were afraid of him. I
saw it in the way you talked to him, in the way you jumped away from
Spike and the way you wouldn't look at me or Spike. Your whole body
language was one of fear. You flew out of that apartment as if the devil
were on your heels. What did he say to you?" Angel demanded. Rarely did
Angel ever get as adamant and angry as he was now. His face was red and
the vein on the side of his neck was pulsing.

Buffy burst into tears. It was all too much with Lindsey scaring her and her
not being able to pinpoint why, with fearing for William and his safety and
STILL not being able to pinpoint exactly why. It was frustrating, it was
overwhelming and now with Angel angry and demanding to know what the
hell was going on when she herself didn't know—it was all too much.

In an instant, Angel had her in his arms and his words were soft and
soothing, his embrace comforting. "Buffy, please don't cry. You know I
could never stand it when you cried. Christ, it's like the first time you rode
your bike without training wheels and fell down on the sidewalk and split
your knee open. Made me feel like the worst brother in the world."

"You taught me to ride my bike," she hiccupped.

"Hence the reason why I felt awful when you fell. I failed you."

She looked up at him, tear stained. "You think you failed me?"

"Sometimes. I'm not going to this time though," and he gave her a weary
smile.

"Angel, you haven't failed me. You're the only one that I depend on."

"Aside from Spike right?"

She didn't answer that question. "Why do you think you failed me?"

"I didn't protect you from that monster."

"I think we have a lot to talk about.

Angel nodded. "I think you're right," and he threw an arm across her
shoulders as they made there way up to the apartment. "Spike's worried.
He was pacing and sorry, but we couldn't resist peaking out and seeing
what was going on."

"What did you see?"

"You flinching every time he moved. Buffy, has he hit you?" Angel asked as
they made their way up the stairs.

"No, he hasn't."

"Threatened you?"

"Nope."

Angel sighed. "He did something. I know he did."

"That's what's scaring me," Buffy murmured.

"What do you mean?"

Buffy didn't answer as she pushed the door open. Spike stood in the middle
of the kitchen looking worried. He lunged forward. "Buffy are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she nodded and disengaged from Angel. She stepped forward
and Spike immediately wrapped his arms around her.

"I don't like him, kitten."

"I know. I don't think I do either. Scratch that. I know I don't."

Spike pulled apart just enough to look at her. "Does that mean—?"

"That I'm breaking up with him? Yeah."

"THANK GOD!" Angel exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air.
"Halleluiah!"

Buffy turned to face her brother with a smirk. "Tell me how you really feel
Angel, don't hold back."

Angel chuckled. "Sorry, couldn't hold that one back. This weight that just
got lifted off my shoulders? That must be what relief feels like."

"Uh, Spike?" Buffy started. "Do you think Angel and I could…?"

"Say no more. You need some family time here, I understand."

She grabbed his arm before he could walk away. "Call you later?"

He smiled and cupped the side of her face with his hand. "How bout see me
later?"

She smiled. "I can do that."

"Do you need directions?"

"Spike, I don't get lost here like you do. I know where it is."

He nodded, grinning shyly, "Right."

"Thanks for breakfast even though I missed out on it."

"I'll make you one when you come over."

"Okay."

Angel and Spike shook hands, grinning and Spike was off.

Buffy looked at Angel sheepishly once Spike was gone. "He's not going to
be happy to learn I told Lindsey he was gay."

Angel's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "You WHAT?"

"It was the only thing I could think of to protect him."

"Protect him? All right. Let's sit and talk. What's going on Buffy? Please
don't shut me out like before."

"I have no memory of doing that before," she reminded him.

"I know, I know. . . but, I see you doing it again, unwittingly, and it's
driving me nuts. I want to know what's going on with you Buffy. Especially
when it comes to Lindsey."

Buffy regarded him thoughtfully. "You really don't like him."

Angel gave her a look. "Gee, what gave it away?"

Buffy slid into the chair at the table and looked up at Angel expectantly. He
slid in across from her and both put their elbows on the table and stared at
each other.

"So, tell me your suspicions about him," Buffy urged.

"I think I first want to hear what you have to say first."

"Why?"

"To see if it matches up and I'm not just influencing you. Though from
what I saw, it looks like we're on the same page."

"Don't you want to influence me away from him?"

"Oh trust me, yes. But I'm thinking since you're the one with no memory
here, what you have to say will be . . . fresher, if you know what I mean?"

Buffy nodded. "I think I get that. All right. Let me start with the day I
went back to work."

Buffy spilled it all. Told Angel everything from when she'd seen Lindsey
that day to when she went to see Tara and everything that Tara had said.
Angel listened, nodding in places and biting his tongue in other areas.

"Buffy," Angel reached across the table and grabbed her hands in his big,
warm ones. "All that you just said, all that fear you have of him, all that
uncertainty . . . It's exactly what I imagined—what I thought—was going on
in that house with him. Buffy, you've always been independent and
stubborn and always followed the beat of your own. And you and I were
always close. We told each other everything, there was nothing we hid from
one another because for so long all we've had is each other.

When Lindsey came along, you changed. You lashed out at me all the time,
you always had excuses for Lindsey making you do something you would
never normally do or had any interest in. Stupid flashy parties where you
were set up to be the trophy on his arm . . . making him dinner –even
though you hate to cook. You even told me once in passing that he wanted
you to quit your job—the job you love—once he married you. I flipped out
on you for that and I succeeded in only pushing you away from me even
more.

You never said you were happy with him, and if you had maybe I wouldn't
have held so many reservations. Maybe if I knew he was treating you right,
I wouldn't have had so many misgivings. But you shut me out and you had
this vacant look in your eyes where once you had so much life and sparkle.
You weren't my Buffy anymore and I didn't know how to get you back. I
swear that bastard turned you away from me, he had this control over you
and I was helpless to do anything about it.

When you had the accident I was convinced—hell, I'm STILL convinced—
he had something to do with it Buffy."

Buffy looked at him sternly. "Angel, that's a pretty big accusation to
make."

"I know," Angel sighed, "but I can't help my suspicions. And, at the same
time after hearing what you just told me . . . I find myself almost thankful
for the accident. Because if you hadn't had it, then you might still be with
him and he would still be controlling you. I think what Tara and Spike told
you and how you react to Lindsey go hand in hand Buffy. How you acted
today and that gut feeling you had about protecting Spike," he stopped
abruptly. "Buffy, do you think that's why you never spoke of him when you
came home from Rhode Island and why you left him without giving him a
way to contact you? Because you were protecting him?"

"If the urge I had today is anything to go by, then I think that's a definite
possibility."

"He won't hurt you again Buffy," Angel promised her.

"He wants to see me tonight."

"Fine then, you call him and YOU make the plans. You tell him where, you
tell him when. In a public place so he can't do anything when you tell him
it's over."

"Yes, sir," Buffy saluted him.

Angel shook his head. "Okay, I got a little demanding there—"

"Ya think?"

"I just want him gone Buffy. Out of your life, forever, and for good. It's the
best thing for you and you know it."

"I do," she said quietly. "How I acted today—did I ever act like that
before?"

Angel shook his head, "No. I imagine your reaction today was an honest
one because you didn't ‘know' any better. You didn't feel the need to censor
it and cover up your fear of him."

Buffy flinched. "I don't like the sound of that. My ‘fear' of him. Makes me
sound weak and defenseless . . . Makes it sound as if has power over me
and the idea that I gave him that power," she trailed off and stood up,
clenching her fists. "You know what I need? I need to learn self-defense."

Angel frowned. "Buffy, I'm all up for you feeling the need to learn it to
better protect yourself say if you should ever find yourself in a situation,"
Angel said as he stood. "Those occurrences that happen, but are rare in
their happenings. It makes me nervous though when you feel the need to
learn it to protect yourself from Lindsey."

"But you understand it."

"Yeah, and that's what makes me nervous. I'm going to be there tonight
Buffy. I'll be nearby just in case so you aren't alone."

"I don't want him to see you. If I'm worried about Spike, then who knows if
you're safe too."

Angel smirked. "I dare him to lay a hand on any of us. He touches you or
any of us and he'll find a nice restraining order slapped on him."

Buffy looked up at him. "Am I becoming the Buffy you knew? The
independent, stubborn Buffy?"

Angel smiled and hugged her close. "I see her coming back to me a little bit
more everyday."

“Come on in, pet,” Spike said, standing aside from the door to let Buffy into his new digs. He’d finally gotten himself a place to hang his hat. A penthouse loft right on Newbury Street. Buffy had whistled when he told her where he was living. Apparently, it was a ritzy place to live, and a popular area to shop at too.

“Very nice, William. Very blank, white walls you’ve got going
on here,” she teased him as she stepped into the foyer that
led to the living room with a huge window that took up one
wall.

“I’m thinking of hiring a decorator, what do you think?”

She shook her head, “No, why waste your money when you
have me?”

He studied her curiously. “Do I have you Buffy?”

She looked down. “You have me,” she told him softly. She
looked up, meeting his eyes. “I can’t give you much right now
William. I can give you my friendship with the promise of
something more one day, but I kind of want to get my uh, sea
legs again. If that makes any sense?”

Crossing the distance between them, he cupped the side of
her face and gazed at her reverently. “Does that mean I can
kiss you?”

She looked up at him, slightly dazed. She smiled. “I think that’d
be okay. More than okay in fact.”

“Won’t confuse you more?”

She shook her head, “No. The things I’m confused about . . .
they’re getting clearer and somehow the way I feel about you
has always been clear.”

“You don’t know what that means to me, pet,” he whispered
and ghosted his lips across hers. He pulled back to gauge
her reaction.

“You call that a kiss?” and she grabbed his shirt in her tiny
fists and pulled him to her, crashing her mouth against his.
Lips glided, tongues probed and tasted, heat crackled and
Buffy felt as if she were on fire. Her skin tingled and she
knew with clarity that there was no way she’d ever felt that
way with Lindsey. Buffy wrapped her arms around him,
riffling her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck
and pressing her body against his. She could feel his arousal
at her stomach and she felt moisture rush between her legs
at the knowledge he wanted her as much as she wanted
him.


He broke the kiss, breathless. “Pet, we need to stop before
we do something to muck it all up.”

She smirked, “Aren’t I the one that’s supposed
to stop?”

He grinned sheepishly. “See how much I love you? I’m willing
to wait until I’m sure you’re ready.”

“I wish I knew . . . “ she trailed off and broke free from his
embrace, heading towards the window.

“Wish you knew what?” he asked, following her.

“What I was thinking before when I slept with you in Rhode
Island.”

“What do you mean?” he sounded slightly hurt.

“I mean,” she started, placing a hand on his chest, wanting to
be touching at least some part of him. “I wonder if I was
scared or at the end of my rope. I wonder if I was done with
Lindsey then as I am now. I wonder if he’d frightened me so
much then—“

“He did frighten you today. I saw it in your face
and the way you jumped away from me. It wasn’t the jump
that indicated guilt, it was the jump that indicated fear.” He
placed his hand over hers, grasping it gently.

“I’m ending it tonight. Had a nice long chat with
Angel about it all and he ‘made’ me call him and set up the time
and place. Angel’s going to be there.”

“I want to be there too.”

“Spike, no,” she shook her head. “I don’t want to
risk putting you in danger.”

“Buffy, did he threaten you?”

“No, but my instinct was to protect you.”

“Not sure how I feel about that,” Spike told her
honestly.

“I think it’s very telling in both how I feel about
you and what must have happened with him before.”

“You still don’t remember?”

“No. But I have a pretty good idea. Someone told
me to listen to my gut once. I think I took their advice and it
worked.”

Spike smiled wearily. “I’d do anything to keep
you safe.”

“Ditto for you. Which is why I think it best that
you don’t show up tonight. Although,” she took a deep
breath, “I did tell him you were gay so –“

Spike dropped his hand from hers and his eyes
widened. “What?!”

She giggled, she couldn’t help it, the outrage and
disbelief on his face was priceless. “So maybe he’ll think you
and Angel are together—“ In the next instant she found
herself in the arms of a determined man.

“I’ll show you gay,” he growled playfully and
plundered her lips with his. Pulling her with him, they toppled
onto his couch, Spike on top. He kissed her passionately,
thoroughly, possessively, but she didn’t mind in the least. His
body felt so good against hers, she didn’t want to stop. She
just wanted to feel all of him. He started to pull back and she
gripped him, bringing him back.

“Don’t stop,” she begged him.

“Buffy,” he groaned and kissed her again. “I
don’t want to stop. I want you so much baby. Wanted you for
forever it seems, but I want to do this right this time. I want to
do this when there’s nothing between us and right now
Lindsey is between us still and while you’re still unsure about
everything—“

“I know,” she cut him off, a tad too abruptly than
she intended. She pushed at him.

“No, baby, listen to me. Look at me Buffy.”

She looked up at him. “I keep making the same
mistakes, huh?”

He shook his head and leaned in, kissing her
softly. “No baby. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re
doing everything right by ending things with him. Whatever
happened before with him . . . it probably wasn’t healthy and
now you see it.”

“I think I was trying to protect you then too. I
think that’s why I took off,” she told him, trembling.

“I won’t let him hurt you again, Buffy. I promise.”

This time when she pushed at him, he sat back
and pulled her with him, settling her on his lap.

“And I won’t let him hurt you. I mean it Spike. I
don’t know what he’ll do, I don’t even remember what he’s

done. All I know is what I feel and what I feel is not safe
when it comes to him knowing about you,” she told him
determinedly.

“And that’s how I feel about you and him,” he
told her firmly. “I want to be there. I’ll even pretend to be
Angel’s lover if that’ll help.”

“I don’t want him to know that Angel is even
there.”

“Should we go for disguises?” he grinned.

She giggled. “That actually could be fun. But
just . . . just stay far enough away okay?”

He nodded and kissed her sweetly,
languorously. “We better go and do something before I
ravage you and throw all my wisdom completely out the
door,” he whispered against her lips.

“You’re absolutely right. Let’s uh, go
somewhere. To Revere or Lynn. Away from here for a
while.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Buffy? Trying to
protect me still?”

“Just go with it for now, please?”

He nodded. “For now.”

They Say Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Despite the fact that her head was held high and she looked like she had all the confidence in the world, Buffy was trembling. When she'd called Lindsey and told her what their plans were going to be, he'd seemed surprised at first, followed by amused and then put off. It was eerie. He definitely did not sound like a man that was used to being told what to do.

Angel had promised he'd be there keeping an eye on things, but out of the
way so that Lindsey didn't suspect anything, and of course, there was
Spike. It wasn't just that Buffy was concerned for Spike, but she was
concerned for Angel as well. She was just MORE afraid for Spike. It was difficult. All she knew was that she felt the instinct to protect and protect she would.

As soon as she stepped inside the dark restaurant with the bar in the back, Lindsey popped out of the shadows. Buffy let out an unladylike shriek and reared back.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said apologetically.

"Yeah, right," she muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, uh, let's get a table."

"Sure thing," he reached out, placing a hand on the small of her back and
ushering her forward to the hostess.

"Table for two please," Lindsey said kindly.

Buffy's eyes darted around the room, looking for Angel and Spike. They'd
apparently done a good job at hiding themselves, because she didn't see
them anywhere. Nearly tripping over Lindsey as she followed him to the
table, he frowned at her.

"What's gotten in to you?" he asked as they sat.

"What do you mean?"

"You're . . . tense and twitchy. And what was with making me cancel my
plans tonight?"

"You just cut right to the chase don't you?"

He shrugged, "is there any reason not to? I'm a lawyer, it's what I do. Get
to the bottom of things."

She studied him, a million thoughts running rampant in her mind. She
decided to nail down one. The one that wanted to ask him questions about
their relationship. If he could ask questions and be direct, well then so could
she.

"What was I like before?"

He gave her a funny look. "What?"

"What was I like before? Am I the same or am I different?"

"Different."

She rolled her eyes. "Did you want to elaborate on that?"

"What's the point? You don't remember and it only upsets you."

"Because I'm asking now and I want to know," she said with some
authority.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, "I don't know that I like being ‘ordered'."

"Well, that makes two of us. I didn't like being ordered to have dinner at
your house after my first day at work, and I didn't like being ordered to
come out with you tonight."

Lindsey smiled the kind of smile an adult gives a child when humoring
them. "So that's what this," he gestured about the room, "Is all about."

"What do you mean?"

"Planning our night out."

"Did you often make the plans for us?"

He looked down at his menu. "Never really thought about it I guess," he
mumbled.

"There really isn't anything to think about. You either did or didn't."

His head snapped up and Buffy held her breath, fear coiling in her stomach.
‘That's not something you do. No backtalk!' the voice inside her head
screamed. Where was this sudden boldness coming from? And the anger
she was feeling as she asked and he dodged. When he asked though, it was
supposed to be all laid bare for him. Perhaps knowing they were in a
crowded restaurant and she would definitely not be going anywhere with
him had something to do with her boldness.

He set her with a penetrating gaze. "We made plans together."

Yeah right, she thought.

"Am I different?" she asked again.

"Yes," he answered through gritted teeth. "You're petulant." Then his gaze
softened and he shook his head. He took a deep breath and reached across
the table, taking her hands in his. "Buffy, let's not argue. Why don't we go
somewhere else hmm?"

"But I'm NOT arguing Lindsey. I'm asking questions and you're getting
upset with me for asking them," she took her hands back and placed them
at her sides.

He looked away, and she could see his jaw clenching. He turned back. "Let's
go somewhere else, okay?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to."

"Buffy, listen to reason. It's crowded and busy and . . . dark. Let's go
someplace nice and elegant—"

"I don't want to. I like that its busy and crowded and dark."

"Why?" he asked incredulously.

"It kind of makes breaking up with you easier."

Silence fell between them. Lindsey stared at her so hard and for so long
without moving, Buffy would have thought he'd have stopped breathing.
She also realized that she was gripping her seat tightly. She forced herself
to relax but to no avail. Her hands were starting to ache from how tightly
she held onto that chair.

"You're upset with me, but you don't mean that," he finally said.
She blinked. "What? I do mean it. I said it and I mean it."

"Stop being silly Buffy."

"Stop treating me like a child!" she exclaimed loudly enough to stop the
chatter for a minute around them.

Blushing she lowered her head.

"That was very much like a child wasn't it?" he stated.

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "It's over."

He shook his head. "No, you're not thinking clearly," and he lifted his menu.


"Ok fine then. Let's play your game Lindsey. Let's say I am being a silly,
petulant child. Wouldn't you rather be free to find someone that wasn't?"

He met her eyes again, "I only want you Buffy."

"You don't have me Lindsey. You can't have me any longer."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly, a slight whine to his voice.

She took a deep breath. "Because I don't love you."

His eyes narrowed, "Is there someone else?"

The cold menace in his eyes made her shiver. "No," she lied with
conviction.

Silence again. Eerie silence.

"You're right," he said easily, coldly, "I don't want a silly petulant
child." "Then you accept it."

"Yes and I think you should leave."

Her eyes bugged, "What?"

"I'm going to stay and have my dinner. I think you should leave."

"Are you being serious right now?" she asked in disbelief.

"Very."

"You don't like it here!" she exclaimed again.

"I choose to stay anyway now that I'm here. If you're so anxious to be rid
of me, then you should be happy. You're free. Now you can find someone
else to handle your temper tantrums and your inability to commit."

"You are unbelievable," she said in disbelief.

"Good bye Buffy."

"You arrogant prick."

"Tsk, tsk. Such language. Remember yourself Buffy."

She stood on shaky legs. "You are worthless slime, you know that?"

He shrugged, "Good bye Buffy."

Not even able to comprehend exactly what was happening, Buffy walked in
a daze to the door, hoping Spike and Angel weren't found out when they
exited. She stood outside, staring across the street at nothing in particular,
trying to understand what had just happened. HE was supposed to leave
not her! That was supposed to have been quick and easy not . . . with HER
leaving and being made to feel as if she were an inch tall by doing so.
Something told her that wasn't the first time something like that had
happened. She peered into the window and found the waitress patting his
back with a sympathetic look on her face. It was all a ploy to make her look
like the bad guy. He got the sympathy and she looked like the bitch. He'd
humiliated her. Shaking, Buffy strode over to the bench on the sidewalk to
wait for Spike and Angel to appear.

She didn't have to wait long for a second later they came rushing out. She
stood and waved them over. Spike, in front, reached her first and
enveloped her in a hug.

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Felt like an idiot being made to leave, but fine," she huffed as she
released him.

"He made you leave?" Angel asked, his brow crinkling in confusion.

"Yes. I figured it out though. He wanted me to look like the asshole."

"Well, you did just break up with him. In most circles, that does make you
the asshole," Angel pointed out.

"No, not the way that just played out. It was a head game. He wanted me
to feel humiliated."

"Because you humiliated him," Spike stated.

"Yeah, except I get the feeling that kind of ‘game' was used before." She
shivered. "Can we just go now please? I want away from here and away
from him."

"Yes, angel, we can go," Spike stated and wrapped an arm around her,
pulling her close and kissing her forehead. "Why don't we go someplace and
have dinner? All of us."

Angel nodded. "That's fine, but do you think you could refrain from making
out with my sister?"

Loving You


"Buffy, I'm a big boy. You don't need to protect me like this!" Spike exclaimed as he stood in the middle of his living room facing the woman he loved beyond reason and currently frustrated with.

Buffy stared at him, shocked by his outburst. She took a deep breath and
swallowed. She opened her mouth to speak and Spike cut her off.

"Don't say it. Don't say that you still don't trust everything will be all
right."

Now she was frustrated. He could see it in the way that she scrunched up
her face and furrowed her brow.

"Well I don't!" she cried indignantly.

Raking a hand through his disheveled locks, Spike shook his head and took
a deep breath. A lot of that had been happening lately. He went along with
it at first, feeling honored and touched that Buffy felt the need to protect
him. His girl cared for him and it meant more to him than she knew. But it
was wearing thin when she wouldn't hold his hand in public, or didn't ever
want to go anywhere ‘just in case' they ran into Lindsey. He wanted to be
able to be with her, wanted the world to know that she was his girl and he
was her man, but she was wary still. She was afraid of what Lindsey would
do to him if he found out. Not that Spike didn't have his own reservations
about the man, but he didn't believe in living their life in fear. He was more
concerned for Buffy, not himself. If Lindsey found out about them, he'd
more likely do something to her, not to him. Which was why he and Angel
had taken special precautions to make sure Buffy was safe. When she left
work, one of them was there to get her, and in the morning, Angel had
taken to giving her rides in. It'd only been a week, and Spike was sure that
Buffy hadn't noticed.

"And don't think I don't know that you and Angel are up to something with
ALWAYS being there lately!" she exclaimed.

Until now of course.

"So you want to protect me, but I can't protect you? Does it go against
your manliness or something?" she challenged, tapping her foot and placing
her hands on her hips.

He couldn't help the grin that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. How
could he not find her absolutely adorable?

She pointed at him, "Don't you dare start smiling William Knightly."

He chuckled; he couldn't help it, and started reaching for her. She backed
off and he stopped. Okay fine. She needed to have this out first.

"Buffy, it doesn't go against my . . . ‘manliness'. It goes against my wanting
to have a normal life with you and not live in fear of what could or could not
happen concerning Lindsey."

"It's only been a week."

"Buffy, please kitten, try to understand. Remember I told you before that
I want to be with you and I don't want Lindsey to come between us. You're
making him come between us still even though you've broken up with him,"
Spike explained calmly.

She threw up her hands, "Excuse me for loving you and not wanting
anything to happen to you!"

"Buffy, I understand that you—" he stopped abruptly. He stared at her, his
heart beating rapidly in his chest. "What did you just say?"

She swallowed again, her chest heaving. "I said I loved you and I didn't
want anything to happen to you."

"I got the last part. Can you just say the first part by itself?"

"You're changing the subject."

"I think I have rights to in this case. You're telling me for the first time
that you love me. I want to hear it from those lovely lips. Just those three
words with nothing else before, after or between them," he told her smiling.

She smiled back, "I love you, William."

"Again," he ordered, grinning.

"No."

"Please?"

"I love you William."

He was grinning like an idiot and he didn't much care. He also didn't care if
they finished arguing about Lindsey just then. He just wanted her in his
arms. He made it to her in three long strides and swept her up in his arms,
smothering her in a kiss.

"Buffy, I've loved you since I met you. You're the best thing that ever
happened to me. You changed my life in so many ways and—"

She placed a finger over his mouth, halting his speech. He gazed at her half
curious, half in awe of her declaration.

"You don't have to make any big speeches, William. Though they are nice
to hear and I'll probably ask for one later, but now I just want you to kiss
me. I suppose I can forget about Lindsey for ri—"

Not being able to wait any longer, Spike kissed her again. He wanted to
learn every inch of her mouth and he was going to start his study right
then. When her tongue came out to greet his, his hands dived in her hair
and he brought her even closer to his body, slightly bending her back.


The need for oxygen was the only thing that made them part and it was
just a fraction of a move at that.

He watched her lustfully as she played with the top button of his shirt and
bit her bottom lip, looking up at him. "Will you make love to me now
William?"

"Oh God yes," he breathed and swept her up in his arms. She let out a little
‘eep!" at the sensation of being lifted and he set off to the bedroom. She
managed to slip the button out of his hole and was working her way down
diligently, making sure to kiss every expanse of skin that she uncovered.
Her kisses on his body were going to engulf him in flames, he was sure of it.

Nearly tossing her on the bed, he delighted in the giggle that escaped her
lips as she shimmied up the bed and wrapped her fingers around the
bedposts. Kicking off her shoes and toeing off her socks, Spike followed her
lead and unzipped his jeans, just leaving the flaps open, his cock still hidden.


He grinned at her when she licked her lips as her eyes focused on his
undone jeans. Then she looked up at him with a look that could melt butter.


"When did you become such vixen?" he asked breathlessly as he shed his
shirt and started crawling to her, a cat on the prowl.

Leaning forward she grabbed his face and kissed him hard, nibbling on his
bottom lip. Her hand eased inside his undone jeans and found his cock that
was dying for her touch. He broke the kiss, watching her face as she drew
his cock out of his jeans, pushing them down his hips for easier access. This
woman loved him, and he loved her with everything he had. He'd gone from
loving her to hating her, to hunting for her and then finding her and finding
out she'd lost her memory of him. She'd taken him on a roller coaster ride
all right. And he never wanted to get off the ride.

He grabbed her wrist before his control snapped completely and he came
in her hands. He wanted to be inside her, feeling her walls clamp around
him and welcome him home in their depths. There he planned to stay
forever.

She looked at him in question.

"I want to cum inside you luv. Not on you."

She smiled slowly and nodded.


"When," he asked, leaning in and sucking on the pulse point at her neck
and reveling in her moan and her hot little hands stroking the skin of his
arms and back. "Did you become such a vixen?" he asked again and pulled
back just a smidge.

She smiled mischievously at him. "Everyone's got a wild side . . . Spike."

He smirked, that lusty, sexy smirk that he knew drove her wild and kissed
her passionately.


Breaking the kiss, he kneeled before her, regarding her. He wanted to
touch so many things, wanted to remap her entire body with his hands and
his mouth. She was becoming impatient, that much he could tell. She
whipped off her shirt, and undid her bra and all he could do was stare at her
mesmerized. He'd fantasized their reunion so many times and now that he
had her here, he was so amazed and spellbound; he didn't know how to
begin. It was starting to become embarrassing. Especially when she took
his hand and placed it on her supple milky white breast.

His cock hardened more and he snapped into action, lurching forward to
tease one nipple as he suckled and teased her other breast. Her fingers
entwined themselves in her hair and she moaned. The salt of her skin was
delicious as her breast melted in his mouth. Her body was so responsive to
him; he took joy in the way her nipples hardened instantly at his touch.
When he looked up at her, he found her eyes closed and head thrown back
in rapture.

He licked his way up the valley between her breasts and then peppered
kisses to her mouth. He stared at her intensely, forcing her to see the
intensity in his eyes and the promise of his love and devotion.

"I. Love. You." He told her huskily.

"I love you too," she whispered and brought him closer to her, kissing him
soundly.

Placing his hands on the waistband of her jeans, he caressed the skin there.
Dipping his finger in he found her thong and played with the straps of it.
She bucked her hips at him, urging him on. Grinning, he sat back on his
haunches and went to work on her jeans. Undoing the button and unzipping
them slowly, he watched as the slowness drove her mad. He could see the
hot flush on her skin and was pleased to find she was just as affected as he.
Placing his hands on either side of her hips, he grasped the waistband and
yanked, sliding them down her legs, making sure to kiss each and every
part of skin he uncovered except for the one area she was desperate for
him to touch. Her eyes glazed over as she watched him and her legs
trembled with each caress of his hand and kiss of his lips.

"So beautiful Buffy. So soft and warm . . . " he murmured reverently.

Then, he grasped the side of her thong and tore it from her. She gasped at
the action and he was pleased to find her eyes darken even more with lust.
Spreading her slender legs, he swiped his finger down her slit, feeling the
moisture there. She was wet and ready for him.

"Better hold back on to that headboard baby," he told her. "Gonna make
you feel so good . . . "

He planned to set up camp between her legs for some time. He wanted to
taste her cum, wanted to drink her, drown in her. He remembered from

their night together that she tasted like honey. Settling himself in, he licked
her up and then down. She moaned and bit her lip, twining her fingers
around the headboard.

Spreading her lips, he flicked his tongue inside, groaning at the heavenly
taste.

"God Buffy. You taste so good . . . could eat you for hours, for days, for an
eternity." Diving his tongue in her hole, he flicked her clit with his finger
and then alternated with flicking her clit with his tongue and sticking his
finger in her hole, bringing her to the brink each time before he'd switch
again.

Taking mercy on her thrashing and pleading moans and the way her
knuckles were turning white from gripping the headboard, he sucked her
clit into his mouth hard and she came with a scream, screaming his name.

He drank deep and she came again. Moving off the bed, he nearly ripped
his jeans off and crawled back up to her.

"Want a taste?" he purred and she grabbed him, slamming her lips against
his in a bruising force. He took that as a yes.

Her hand slithered between them and she stroked him, starting to make
the descent with her lips down his chest. He knew the path, and he did
want her luscious mouth wrapped around his cock, but he was so hard and so ready to combust, one flick of her tongue and he'd explode. He wanted inside her, even if he did embarrass himself. He wanted to feel her wrapped around him again so bad, wanted to feel connected to her.

Pushing her hand away gently, he looked at her. "I want inside you,"
rasped.

She nodded vigorously and wrapped her arms around his neck as she bent
her legs and spread her legs wider. He found her opening with ease and slid
in an inch at a time. He grit his teeth at the sensation and tried to work out
long division problems to avoid cumming so soon. She broke down all his
resolve. Her body pulled him, telling him this was where he belonged,
telling him he was made to fit her body. He watched the pleasure play
across her face as he slid in and he couldn't help but feel in complete awe.
She loved him. After all they'd been through, after feeling as if he'd lost her
forever, there she was, taking him inside her, loving him, letting him love
her.

"God, I love you so much," he said hoarsely as he bottomed out inside her.

"I love you too," she breathed and rotated her hips.

He closed his eyes from the pleasure and torture. When he was sure he
was under control he pulled back just enough and then thrust back in,
grinding his pelvis against hers. They started a rhythm together and were
soon moving together in sync. He tangled his hands in her hair and kissed
her deeply as they moved. Moving her knees up closer to her chest allowed
for deeper penetration and he started to thrust harder, feeling himself
starting to lose what shred of control he'd been clinging to. He wanted to
come and yet feared it. He just wanted to be a part of her forever.

"Spike," she gasped. "I'm going to –" her hands started for the headboard.

"No. Wrap your arms around me," he ordered. He thrust faster and
harder.

"Spike," she whimpered.

"Cum for me Buffy. Cum all over me. Please," he begged. To help her, he
reached between them and flicked his finger across her clit while angling his
hips just right—

"William!" she cried out, throwing her head back.

She coated his cock with her juices and he came instantly, coating her
insides.

"Buffy!" he roared and pumped a few more times before collapsing against
her.

She ran her hands down his sweat sheaned back, murmuring to him. He
popped his head up.

"Am I crushing you?" he asked.

She shook her head and brought him back down, wrapping her limbs
around him.

"Don't leave me," she whispered.

"Never," he promised and nuzzled her color bone.

He smiled at her cat like yawn and rolled them to their sides. He wrapped
himself around her and kissed her. "Sleep kitten. You're going to need your
rest because I am far from done with you for tonight."

She smiled sleepily and snuggled up to him. He watched her as she slept,
stroking her hair and occasionally kissing her forehead until he gave into his
bodys demand to follow her into slumber.

Bliss

Spike awoke with a start and immediately reached for Buffy. His heart thudded in his chest when he found the space next to his bed empty. ‘Not again', was the only thought running through his head as he scrambled out of bed.

"Buffy?" he called out, listening closing as she padded down the hall.

"Kitchen William!" her voice called back and Spike nearly wept with relief.
She was here. She hadn't left. Hadn't been snatched away from him again
and it had not been a dream.

His mouth curved into a smile when he found her with the fridge door
open, one leg bent slightly with her foot resting on the other and her head
cocked to the side as she contemplated the fridge. The best part was the
fact that she was wearing his t shirt. He wondered if he could convince her
to wear his t shirts all the time. Then she could give them back unwashed
and he'd be surrounded by her constantly.

Unable to resist the allure, he stalked up to her and grabbed her about
waist, hauling her against his front.

"Hungry, pet?" he growled playfully and nipped at her ear.

She shivered, "Yes," she whispered.

"Me too," he agreed and nuzzled her neck lovingly. He ground his erection
into her backside and she spun in his arms, planting a full kiss on his mouth.


"Mmmm….you taste so good Buffy," he murmured.

"William, you're naked!" she exclaimed, just realizing it now as her hands
drifted down the sides of his body.

He leered at her, "Yeah? Problem?"

"I suddenly feel overdressed," she shot back and then immediately
blushed.

He groaned at the image of her beautiful body dancing in his mind and
smothered her in a kiss. Lifting her, he hoisted her up on the counter and
wrapped her legs around his waist. He grinned as he lifted and tossed his t
shirt off her. He took in the sight of her body and felt an all over itch begin
to spread through him. So this is what it felt like to feel as if you'd go
absolutely insane if you weren't touching the one you love. He cupped her
breasts in his hands, teased them, suckled on them and watched her
expression as he did so. She watched him back hotly.

"William. . . Spike . . . " she murmured, running her fingers through his
curls. "Please come inside me now."

"Not going to come just yet pet," he teased. "Want to make it good for us."

She let out a blissful sigh and moan as his finger tested her readiness and
teased her.

"So wet for me already, kitten? Were you having naughty thoughts out
here?"

"Have naughty thoughts of you all the time," she told him and then gasped
when he flicked her clit.

"Were you thinking about this? About me taking you on the kitchen
counter?"

She smiled saucily at him. "I was thinking of the kitchen table actually.
With me, bent over as you took me from—" she never got to finish because
Spike thrust himself home, heated by her words. Buffy wrapped her arms
about his neck and ground herself against him best she could.

He started a slow, agonizing pace that had Buffy squirming for more. He
teased her, bringing her close and then stopping. She clawed and hissed at
him for more, and he was tempted to pound into her with the intensity he
felt, but he wanted her to feel as insane with want as he was.

She surprised him in the next instant, by forcefully pushing him away and
dislodging him from her.

"Pet?" he asked almost fearfully as she hopped down on wobbly legs. His
hard on was rock hard pointing straight at her, desperate to be inside her
again.

She locked her eyes on his and grasped his cock in her hand as she led him
by his cock to the table. There she hunched over it and wiggled her ass at
him. "Please?"

That was all the impetus he needed. He slammed himself inside her hard
and then paused, afraid he'd hurt her.

"Just like that William," she begged. "Please."

Grabbing her hips, he pulled almost all the way out and then slammed
back in.

"Yes!" she cried and he repeated the motion watching in fascination as her
ass rippled when he slammed back in.

The tension started to build and he felt his orgasm creeping up on him. He
leaned over her, cupping her breasts in his hands and biting down on her
neck lightly with his blunt teeth.

"Buffy," he gasped. "I love you . . . My girl right? You're my girl. Please say
you're mine."

"Yours," she panted and thrust back at him.

"Say you love me."

"I love you."

He lost it and pounded into her. "Come for me Buffy!" he demanded and
she did. All over him. She cried out his name as he pumped his seed inside
her, roaring his release. He collapsed against her, trying to catch his breath
and then, not wanting to crush her, he pulled out of her with a sense of loss,
and spun her around. His legs felt a little wobbly and he held onto her to
right himself. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close,
letting out a sigh. "I love you Spike."

"I love you too Buffy."

"Feed me now?"

He chuckled against her, "Yes, Miss Bossy. I'll feed you now."

She leaned back and beamed up at him. "You'll be well rewarded for it."

He gazed at her solemnly. "Marry me."

She froze. "What?"

"Marry me. Please."

"William, we just—"

"We didn't just. Buffy," he sighed, "Yes, we have been separated for some
time and yes, you don't remember me, but we've always been lovers Buffy.
I've felt it since the day I found you again in that little convenience store
and you let me in. Your heart and your soul remembered me. I know it. I
don't ever want to lose you again. I need you with me always. Please, say
you'll marry me and be with me forever."

Her eyes welled up in tears. "Oh William. I do love you, but. . . I'm not
ready for that yet. I just ended things—"

Spike held her tighter. "Don't say his name," he demanded tensely. Then,
he released her and walked away, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he began. "It's early yet, I know. Too soon. I'm pushing. It's
something I need to work on. You see I've always been the type that saw
something I wanted and went after it. You're so deep in me, I can't let you
go and I get ahead of myself and –"

She stopped him by placing a finger over his mouth. "Ssshhh. It's okay
William. I'm not saying I'll never, I'm saying it's too soon right now. I know
you're the only one I ever want William. I just want it to be us, like this, for
some time. Do you understand?"

He nodded vigorously, bringing her body back into his arms. "I do," he
breathed into her hair. "Just promise me you'll never leave me."

"Never," she promised.



"William, only you wouldn't have a phone in your room," Buffy teased as
she made her way to his study. She had to call Angel and tell him that she
wasn't going to be home that night and hoped he didn't ask too many
questions. After dinner, Spike had decided it'd be fun to have her for
dessert and it'd been some time since they'd thought about the world
outside his home. She knew Angel would worry and she'd left her phone in
the living room and the study was so much closer.

"Hurry up, kitten. I'm not done with you yet!" Spike called out to her.

She giggled and finally found the phone on top of his desk. She reached for
the handle when something caught her eye. A file with her name and
Lindsey's name on it. She grabbed it and opened it. Inside was a picture of
her and her address. Then, the business card of a P. I. A sheet of paper was
stuck to it that said "Information requested on Lindsey McDonald, October
2005". More papers revealed a copy of some transcripts and his law
degree. Nothing incriminating, but Buffy felt anger start the slow burn
inside her. Taking the file, she stomped into the bedroom, faltering when
she saw Spike sitting up grinning at her invitingly and smoking a cigarette,
the sheet around his waist.

When his eyes fell on the file in her hand, his smile dropped. "Buffy, I can
explain," he started.

"You better be able to William!"

He shot out of bed and started for her. She held up her hand, halting him.
"Don't," she ordered. "Talk. Now."

Demanding Answers

"You lied to me," she told him. "You said you found me on your own, but you didn't. I ASKED you if you hired a detective and you said no. Why couldn't you have just told me the truth?"

Spike tugged on his jeans. "I didn't want to scare you away by telling you
I'd come across the country to find you."

"Spike, in case you hadn't been able to tell, I'd already been freaked out
about the fact that I had an affair with you and didn't remember. I'm
thinking telling me that you'd hired a private detective wouldn't have
mattered all that much in the grand scheme of things," she said dryly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

She rolled her eyes up and to the side. "Okay, maybe a little then."

He started to reach for her again and sighed heavily when she stepped
away.

"However, it doesn't explain why you're investigating Lindsey!" she
exclaimed. "Are you nuts? Do you know what he'd do to you if he found
out?"

He studied her. "So that's the part you're mad about?"

"No, I'm just beginning. I'm beyond pissed that not only are you doing this
but you didn't have the decency to tell me!"

"I had to know what was going on! Angel and I—"

"Whoa! Back that bus up. ANGEL? As in my BROTHER Angel is in on this
too?"

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Then, seeming to give up, he
nodded and reached for his smokes on the dresser. If Buffy wasn't going to
let him touch her, then he needed a smoke to calm him rattling nerves.

"The both of you are unbelievable," she muttered. "Don't tell Buffy. Don't
tell poor Buffy with the no memories. She might not be able to handle it.
The stress could cause her memories to never return. Like they ever will
anyway."

Spike sat on the bed and watched her silently as she paced around the
room talking to herself. He figured if he just let her vent and he didn't
interject, the more chance he'd have of her listening to him.

She stopped abruptly. "Was it the ‘competition?"

He stared at her. "Do you mean—Do you think I was trying to get dirt on
him because he was my competition?"

"Yeah, were you trying to ‘eliminate' him?"

"Buffy, is Lindsey were a good guy and I thought you were completely
happy with him and I had no chance, then no, I would not hire a P.I. to
‘eliminate' him."

Her eyes narrowed. "But you didn't know what kind of guy Lindsey was."

"I knew what you told me, and what you told me didn't hit at something
great."

"So you decided to take it upon yourself and hire a P. I. to find out what
kind of guy he was. So you could what? Make the decision for me?"

"I didn't trust him—I still don't—"

"Hold the phone!"

"What?"

"You don't trust him and that's why you hired a P.I."

"Right."

She threw up her hands. "So, it's okay for you to go behind my back and
hire a P.I. because you don't trust him and want to ultimately protect me,
but when I try to do it, OUT IN THE OPEN, you get upset with me!"

He took pause. "Okay. I can see your point."

"You're unbelievable William. And so is my darling brother. Do you think
that I'm that inept that I can't make any decision on my own?"

Spike jumped up, "No Buffy, but you weren't exactly kicking him to the
curb! Who knows what kind of crap he could have pulled. We were trying to
keep you safe."

"Yeah, and lets say that Lindsey is the control freak I think he is. You're no
better by doing what you did. It was my decision to make SPIKE, not yours
and not Angel's."

"You don't remember anything to make the decision. You don't know what
he did! He could have been the one—" he broke off, frustrated.

"You and Angel think he had something to do with my accident."

"Yes," Spike replied tersely.

"When were you planning on enlightening me on this?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," he said admittedly.

"Apparently," she started to gather her things.


Spike was on her in two strides and grabbed her hands. "Don't leave."

"I think I should William."

"No, please, let's work this out. Buffy, we only had your best intentions at
heart. We didn't want anything to happen to you."

"William, I told you a while ago that losing my memory felt like everyone
knew where the cards were and I didn't. You told me that I had to find out
for myself by asking questions and investigating the answers. And I did.
And I made the decisions I needed to make. I took control of the life I didn't
feel I had any control over due to my lack of memories. Do you have any
idea what it feels like to find out that you felt you had to go behind my back
and take control of my life for me?"

"If I had told you what I wanted to do?"

"At least you would have given me the option, given ME control

over what I wanted to find out in MY life with Lindsey. But you didn't. You
made the decision for me. It's like all that talk about telling me to trust my
gut was just to appease me. I feel like all that work I did do to find out
about Lindsey was for nothing. Why let me figure stuff out on my own,
when you can just figure it out for me."

"Buffy, no, it's very different."

"How?"

"Because sometimes you need cold hard facts to incriminate someone.
Buffy, I am going with MY instincts on this. Your accident, Angel not
trusting him, Lindsey's controlling ways—it all sounds fishy to me. My gut
tells me that he's a crooked lawyer and complete asshole. I needed to find
out to keep you safe. What if the next time you didn't just end up with
amnesia? I couldn't let that happen Buffy. I had to keep you safe. I realize I
should have told you and I apologize for that. I don't think all the work you
did was for nothing. Your instincts confirmed even more for me what I was
already guessing."

"You should have told me," she said quietly.

"I know."

"I'm not a child William. I'm not going to fall to pieces that easily. If I was
going to, I already would have."

"I know."

"Do you? Does Angel? Cause I don't feel like you do know that."

"It was a bad decision. One we should have told you about, but we just
weren't thinking."

"Obviously."

"Buffy, please, forgive me. Don't leave me. Just let me hold you."

"I think I want to be alone for a while, William."

"Then I'll sleep on the sofa. Just don't leave."

"William, you're making this very difficult."

"Good. I want to make it difficult for you to ever think about leaving me."

She met his eyes and stood tall. "And you need to learn that just because
I'm upset with you, and just because I walk out the door, does not mean I
don't love you and does not equal me leaving you. Right now, I feel the need
to assert some of my independence which is why I am leaving right now. I need
to clear my head and I need to be by myself for right now."

Stopping himself from pleading his case more and convincing her to stay,
Spike nodded slowly and stood aside. She thanked him with her eyes and
gathered her things, dressing quickly. He followed her to the door and after
grabbing her purse, she kissed him softly and said a whispered ‘good night'.

"I love you," he whispered as she stepped out of his door.

She looked back at him. "I love you too," and she was off.

Spike stared at the hallway she'd vacated for a long time and tried to
reassure himself that she did love him and she was not leaving him. She
was coming back.

Buffy wasn’t necessarily fuming as she made her way home from Spike’s. More like thoughtful with a slight fume. Fuming thoughtfully, yes, that’s what she was doing she decided. She hoped William truly understood why she felt the way she did. She’d gone on and on about how out of control she felt with her life and she felt as if he’d just robbed her of getting that control back. It made her feel weak, like the proverbial damsel in distress who needed the big strong man to lean on
and define her.

It was frustrating.

She didn’t have a clue as to the person Angel had hinted at
her having become After Lindsey –as she was starting to
call it—but she knew who she was Before Lindsey.
Courageous, determined, stubborn and vivacious. The world
had been her oyster. The person she was now was a far
cry from her and she missed her old self desperately. William
had been the driving force in pushing her to find herself again
and she felt she had been on the right track. William and
Angel made her feel as if her best just wasn’t good enough.

It was discouraging.

The other part of her, the part that was skittish
about Lindsey and his intentions, understood why they did it.
They felt the need to protect her and find out the cold hard
facts that she could not provide them. It sat in her gut like lead
that Lindsey could be responsible for her accident. A million
questions she wanted answers to whirled through her mind,
but one stood out prominent above all the rest: Why?

“Buffy!” she jumped a near mile to the sound of a voice
beckoning her.

Angel. Of course. Why WOULDN’T he be there? Especially
since she just left William’s. She stared at him in disbelief as
he slowly trailed her with his car.

“Look, if you don’t want to get in, that’s fine, but I’d like to
follow you and make sure you make it home if that’s all right
with you.”

Buffy shook her head and stalked to the car. He slammed on
the brake and it bounced to a halt. She nearly ripped the car
door open. “That would just be stupid, now wouldn’t it?” she
muttered. She slid into the seat and slammed the door shut.

Angel jumped at the force behind the slamming of the door
and sat back regarding her with a frown. “Was that really
necessary?”

She gave him an icy look and he held up his
hands in surrender and sped off.

Halfway home, he started to speak.

“Don’t,” she halted him. “I don’t want to hear it.
You can just call William and share notes on why I’m pissed.
More so now because I obviously can’t handle a simple walk
home.

“Buffy, there are a lot of psychos out there.
Lindsey just happens to be one of them,” Angel informed her
on a defeated sigh.

“I was fine walking home before this whole
mess.”

“Buffy, I’m not going to apologize for wanting to
keep you safe, but I will apologize for going behind your back
to do it.”

Buffy said nothing as a silent acceptance of his
apology. Though she was still thoughtfully fuming.


**************************************************************************


“You want to what?” Fred asked, her eyebrows rising. She
was looking at Buffy in disbelief.

“I want to take a self – defense class and I
want you to take it with me,” Buffy told her definitively. It was
Monday morning and after having spent Sunday not talking to
either Angel or William, Buffy had decided it was time for
action, time to take things in her own hands and prove to
them and to herself that she could take care of herself. And
them, if need be.

“Why?” Fred asked, slowly.

Buffy refrained from rolling her eyes. “Well, we
do live in the city Fred and it couldn’t help to have some skills
to protect us on those nights we’re coming home late from
here or a party.”

“I drive,” Fred pointed out.

Now Buffy rolled her eyes. “So? What happens
if something happens to your car and you have to walk?”

“Cell phone?”

“Your battery ran out.”

“Payphone?”

“And some dude tries to dry hump you while
you’re making the call.”

Fred’s eyes widened. “I’ll take it. I’m afraid I’m
just not very...athletic.”

Buffy shrugged. “Neither am I, but we’ll learn.”

“Why the sudden interest in self-defense? The
Y has offered it before and you were never interested.”

“I have my reasons,” Buffy said softly and left it
at that.

***********************************************************************

“Knock, knock.”

Buffy looked up from her desk later that day to see William
standing uncertainly in the doorway with a bouquet of
flowers.

“Come in William,” she told him, smiling gently.

He walked in, his swagger not what it once was. He was
nervous, which she found hard to believe considering he
was a cutthroat lawyer. It settled in her mind that she was
the cause of his nervousness. She wasn’t sure how she felt
about that. He stood before her, just in front of her desk,
gazing down at her. So close, yet so far away.

“I gave you space yesterday. I didn’t call at all . . I thought it
was what you would want me to do,” he explained quietly.

“And what did you want to do?” she asked, setting her pen
down.

He met her eyes. “I wanted to call you every five bloody
minutes. Then I wanted to knock the bloody door down and
make you talk to me.”

“Thank you for not doing that.”

“Bloody whipped is what I am,” he muttered. “Love’s bitch
you’ve made me Buffy. Do anything for you I would. If I
thought you leavin’ me after our night together in Rhode Island
was hell, its nothing compared to having you tell me you love
me and then you leavin’.”

“I told you I loved you. I was upset but it didn’t
alter my feelings for you, William.”

He hung his head, “I know. I’m just a poncey,
stupid git. I go up against sharks in courtrooms, I AM a
shark—a bloody pit bull!—and look at me. You alone can bring
me to my knees Buffy. How’s it feel?”



“Like we’re even.”

“Are we?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“I bring you to your knees?”

She smirked teasingly at him and he grinned. “You wanna
show me?” he prompted.

She burst out laughing and shook her head, standing up and
making her way around the desk. She took the flowers from
his hand and placed it on the desk after taking a quick whiff
of them. Wrapping her arms around him, she held him tightly
and nuzzled his neck. He let out a small whimper as he held
on to her tightly.

“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone in
my life, Buffy. You’re it for me. You’re the bloody world.”

She smiled against him, “I love you too William.”

“We good then?”

“Yes. Just please don’t keep things from me like
that. Have a little faith in me. I’m not a porcelain doll, William. I
won’t break that easy.”

“You won’t break at all,” he whispered
hoarsely, burying his face in her neck. “Not my girl. Made of
tough stuff, she is.”

“Thank you. I plan on putting that theory to the
test too.”

He leaned back a bit to study her face. “Oh?”

She smiled brightly. “Self-defense at the Y. For
women only.”



“I took kickboxing in LA.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” she said
wryly.

He grinned. “Maybe we could spar with each
other.”

She smiled broadly. “Maybe I could kick your
ass.”

His eyes darkened. “Is it wrong that talking
about kicking my ass turns me on?”

She laughed, “Maybe, but it’s okay.”

“When does this class start?”

“Tonight. Fred is coming with me.”

He bit his lip. “Can I pick you up and take you
out?”

“Spike, I’ll be all sweaty and gross.”

“Okay, is it wrong that you being all sweaty
turns me on?”

“Is there anything that DOESN’T turn you on?”
she asked incredulously.

“When it comes to you? No. Everything turns me
on.”

She smiled. “I do love you.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he said,
smiling broadly.

“Greedy.”

“Definitely. I want everything Buffy. All you
have to give me, I want it. I need it.”

Holding him tightly, Buffy let that knowledge
sweep over her, leaving her overwhelmed, but at peace at
the same time. “Oh William, the things you do to me.”

Interesting Twist


Spike was under Buffy, flat on his back on his penthouse floor. She was hot, sweaty and panting. Her limbs ached and her hair was damp, tendrils sticking to her neck and one to her face.

Never had she been so horny in all her life.

She'd decided to take Spike up on his offer of sparring once she'd had a few classes under her belt. She found that it helped quite a bit to perfect her technique and Spike taught her more with each session. She hadn't realized how learning self-defense and getting lesson in kickboxing from Spike could make her feel so empowered. So in control

So lusty.

And, true to his word, them sparring, her sweating, turned him on a great deal. To prove that, she now straddled his lap, his erection pressing against her ass. She grinned at him devilishly. He watched her intently, his eyes dark with passion. She shimmied down him, keeping her eyes on his, and being careful of his swollen member. When she reached his feet, she yanked his sweat pants down.
His cock sprang free, dripping precum and begging for her attention. Spike groaned and Buffy licked her lips.

Discarding her tank, she flung it away and crawled up him, giving him a perfect view of her breasts as they swung with her movements. His eyes followed their movements and she could tell he was trying hard not to move and let her do what she will.

It was a lesson for her to see the power she held.

In one fell swoop, she sucked him down to the root. His hips bucked up and he moaned. Slowly, she eased up swirled her tongue around the head. She placed her hand at the base and squeezed, jerking her hand on him as she pondered her next step. In a flash it came to her. Sucking him down again, she made sure he was good and wet with her saliva, and, before he could utter a groan of pleasure, she wrapped her breasts around his cock.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. "God, Buffy . . . " he breathed.

She smirked, "Fuck my tits Spike. Do it."

Growling, he started to thrust his member with its angry red head between her plump globes. The pleasure, the aching intensity was written all over his face.

"Stop," she ordered. He stopped mid thrust, his head just poking out from between her breasts. Lowering her head, she engulfed him in her mouth and let her breasts free. In an instant, she swallowed him down, relaxing her throat muscles and swallowing around him.

"God . . . Buffy, Buffy, Buffy. . . Feels so good. . . so hot. . . Buffy. . . Buffy. . . " he babbled on a whimper as she worked him.

She went back the head and sucked hard as she watched his face contort and his eyes cross. Just when she was sure he was going to come, she let him pop free. His eyes widened.

"Please, Buffy. . . please. . . more. . . " he begged, panting.

Taking pity on him she took him back in her mouth and sucked hard as she cupped his balls. His hips jerked, sending him further down her throat and he roared "BUFFY!!" as he came, stretching out the syllables in her name. His jizz hit the back of her throat in spurts and she swallowed it all, taking pleasure in watching his. When she was sure he was done coming, she licked him clean, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and jumped to her feet. Spike lay there, staring up at her dazed. She might have thought he looked funny laying there with only a tank on, but knowing that she was responsible for the glassy look in his eyes, that eradicated his ensemble.

"Buffy," he panted.

"Now that I've had an appetizer, I want dinner," she told him and ran to his bedroom, knowing it wouldn't be long before he chased her and he got his appetizer too.

**********************************************************************
After a few ravishings and a shower, Buffy finally got her wish for dinner. She'd promised not to let her fear of what Lindsey could do cloud their relationship and let Spike take her out. As a sign of true growth, she even let him hold her hand and show random displays of affection.

She'd come to find that Spike was quite fond of spoiling her. He loved to take her out –and very many times in—and wine and dine her. Not that she complained. There were only so many times she could have Mac & Cheese with Angel.

"So pet, how are those moving coming?" he asked as they settled into their seats and sipped their wine. He waggled his eyebrows causing her to giggle and nearly choke at his double entendre.

"Oh, they seem to be ‘coming' just fine," she teased back.

He reached across the table and grabbed her hand in his. "I love you. Have I told you that today?"

She smiled, "I think you did before, during and after. . . You never shut up," she grinned, so he knew she was only kidding.

He chuckled, "I'm a talker, what can I say?"

"Not enough, apparently," she laughed.

"Brat."

"All part of my charm. Hey, honey—"

"Love it when you call me pet names."

"Well, you have an arsenal of them, I need to catch up."

He smiled, "I'm sure you will."

"So, buttercup—"

"Can I veto that one right now?"

"Yeah, I don't like it either now that I've said it out loud. Anyway, have you heard from your P.I. lately?"

Spike frowned, "Buffy, I don't want to talk about that now."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not conducive to romance."

"Well, you don't want to talk about it at home—"

"You call my place home?" he asked, his eyes taking on a tenderness that used to frighten her and now made her a puddle of mush.

She blushed, "Well, yeah."

"I want you to consider it home, because one day it will be," he said definitively.

"However, until then, I want you to tell me what you've found out."

He sighed, "All right. I know better than to try and deter you."

"Damn straight."

"Basically, your ex knows how to clean up. Sort of. There are possible leads to blackmail, embezzling and your basic cheating the system to get ahead. Could even be a con artist past to get law school funded."

"Really?" Buffy's jaw dropped. "Anything concrete as of yet?"

"Not yet. Like I said, he knows how to clean up. The thought of you with him . . . " Spike trailed off and squeezed her hand.

Buffy shuddered, "What the hell was I thinking?"

"You may not have known all of it, luv. He could have kept quite a bit from you."

"Why do I doubt that?"

Spike furrowed his brow, "You do?"

"We've established that there was something off about him, that he was probably controlling in some manner right? Why else would I have stayed with him for so long if he didn't have ways of keeping me tied to him and reasons for doing it?"

"It could have been his need to just control you Buffy."

"Its possible, but . . . I just have a funny feeling about it."

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" Spike asked and brought her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against it.

She smiled, "That sounds –"

"Hi Buffy."

Buffy froze and looked up to find Lindsey at their table, staring at her and Spike's entwined hands. Feeling panic and fear bubble up inside her, Buffy pulled her hand back.

"H—hi Lindsey," she managed to squeek out, her heart pounding in her chest.

He eyed them indifferently and that in itself was enough to send Buffy cowering. Lindsey turned to Spike. "And you are?"

"William," Spike replied and stood, regarding Lindsey with his jaw firmly set and his eyes like steel.

Lindsey nodded, still expressionless and turned back to Buffy. "Glad to see you're well. Have a nice dinner." And with that he walked away.

Spike frowned, watching him go. "Not exactly the reception I expected."

"I think I want to go home Will. Can we go now?"

Spike finally turned his attention to Buffy who had paled so much, she was almost as white as the table cloth. "Buffy, baby, it's all right. He's gone." He knelt by her side, taking her trembling hands in his.

"I knew it was a possibility he'd see us and I let you take me out. . . I didn't think I would feel that afraid."

"He can't do anything to you Buffy. Not anymore."

Her bottom lip trembled. "I wish I could remember. I wish I . . . knew. If I knew maybe I wouldn't feel so powerless."

"You know enough in your gut Buffy."

"Do you think he'll leave us be Spike? He just left without a scene, do you think he'll just go?"

"I want to say yes, Buffy—"

"But you don't want to lie."

Spike sighed resignedly, "Right. I don't want to lie and say that he'll just go."

Out of the Frying Pan

"Buffy?" Fred asked, concerned. "Are you all right? You look really pale."

Buffy sat down, eyes wide and grasping for the chair behind her, "I just had a memory," she murmured.

Fred's eyes widened. "A memory? A real one?"

Buffy looked up at her. "As opposed to the fake ones?"

Fred shook her head, "Right, you're right. What was it of? Was it one memory, a big
long memory, a few years worth—what?"

"Pills."

"Excuse me?"

"Pills. I was taking pills. I was in the house—Lindsey's house – and I was upset and
crying. I'd made him upset. I'd made him upset AGAIN. I'd spent too much time at Angel's
and hadn't called to tell him. He told me I was selfish and ungrateful and I didn't love him the way I should. I didn't love him at all, he said. He hit me." Her eyes welled up in tears, the memory strong within her, and the emotions thick. "I was crying because I felt guilty and. . . angry. So angry. . . at him. For doing that. I kept wondering how you could hit someone if you loved them? I knew it was wrong, I knew because my father never did that to my m other so why was I letting it happen? I was on the floor and he took me to the bathroom and sat me on the counter. He took out a bottle of pills, white ones, and told me to take two. He held the glass to my lips and made me take them."

"Then what?"

"That's all I remember. I saw myself taking the pills and then everything else just came
after that," Buffy stared off at the wall, not focusing on anything, not even really thinking
anything, just feeling stuck in rewind over her memory. She hadn't even registered Fred calling
Angel on her phone and telling him he should come as soon as possible.

"Buffy?" Fred called to her after she'd hung up. Buffy stared off still, immobile. "Buffy!"

Buffy's head snapped to Fred, "Yeah?"

"Do you need anything? Water? Do you want to lie down or something?"

"I'm fine, I just. . . I need to call William."

"I just called your brother; he's on his way down. Do you have William's number in
your planner? I'll call him."

Buffy nodded absently, letting herself drift.


"Buffy, baby, are you all right?" Spike asked, concerned, and grabbing her biceps,
gazing at her imploringly. Angel was right next to him, looking worried.

"I-I'm fine. I had a memory," she told them.

"We know honey, that's why we're here. Fred was real worried. She said you haven't
been acting like yourself," Angel told her. "What was the memory about?"

"Lindsey," Buffy answered.

"What was it about? Tell us sweetheart," Spike soothed, smoothing his hands down her
arms to comfort her.

She relayed all she had told Fred about her memory. She trembled as she repeated it. "It
doesn't seem like much at all. . . but it is. Because I feel it in my bones. . . That wasn't it, that
wasn't the only time. I knew there had to be something about our relationship but . . . Why
would I let him do that to me? Why would I let anyone hurt me like that?" She shivered and
Spike wrapped her up in his arms, settling beside her and taking her in his lap.

Angel's eyes welled up and he reached out and stroked her hair. "That bastard hurt
you," he whispered fiercely. "He's going to pay."

"No!" Buffy cried, jumping off of Spike's lap and facing them. "Angel, no. He'll kill you. I can feel his anger toward you. . . I can feel how he hated you. . . You came between us."
She shook her head, "He'll kill you."

"He won't Buffy, he can't do anything to me—he hasn't yet."

"Yet being the operative word. You go after him and he'll do it."

"Buffy, you're scaring me," Spike told her and stood, gathering her in his arms. Stop
talking like that. "

"It's true, I can feel it," she murmured against his chest.

"We're going home," Spike stated.

"Is everything all right? Buffy, are you okay?" Fred asked, coming into the room.

"She's shook up, but she'll be all right. We're taking her home right now," Angel
informed the brunette.

"Of course," Fred nodded, "Take care Buffy."

"I'll see you tonight for our self defense class," Buffy told .

"I don't think so pet," Spike said, looking down at her.

Buffy met his eyes. "I'm going. I need to be prepared."



Spike sat by Buffy as she slept, running his fingers through her hair. Angel had gone
home shortly after Buffy had fallen asleep and Spike sat with her, unwilling to leave her side. The vacant look in her eyes, the tremble in her voice and her ominous words had struck fear in him and set his teeth on edge. It was as if he were looking at her after she'd just been attacked by Lindsey . . . and he knew that was the case. It'd shook her up to remember that. It shook him up too. What had she endured? What else had she gone through and what the fucking hell were those pills? He was willing to bet they were either valium, or, if the bastard was as sick as he thought, then a date rape drug. He had a feeling the bastard wanted a docile, passive Buffy after he'd beaten her. A docile, passive Buffy couldn't stand up for herself, wouldn't leave in the middle of the night.

Tears threatened to spill and his free hand balled the sheet under him in fist as his other hand continued to stroke her hair gently. He needed answers and he needed them fast. What the hell was taking Schreb so long? How was it possible that one man could hide such dastardly deeds for so long? Just hints of illegal actions were not cutting it for him anymore. He needed facts and he needed them soon. He wanted Lindsey McDonald locked up for eternity. He also wanted the chance to beat him to a bloody pulp for ever laying one unworthy finger on his girl.

"Spike?" his angels voice rang out softly through the dusky room.

He slid in next to her wrapping an arm around her as she continued to lay on her belly,
facing him.

"Yeah, baby?" he asked softly.

"Are you all right?"

"Why do you ask?" he furrowed his brow.

She reached out and flicked a finger across his cheek. She held it up. A tear lay on the
pad of her finger. She met his eyes with her own expectantly.

"Didn't realize . . . I was thinking of the look on your face."

"The look on my face?" she asked, turning on her side so that she faced him fully. He
pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair.

"That empty look in your eyes. The one that showed me you weren't quite with us."

"I wasn't," she admitted. "All I kept seeing was him hitting me and me taking it. I saw
myself on the floor wondering how I'd gotten there and being so angry . . . and not being able
to fight back. Even now . . ." she choked back her tears. "I'm so angry."

Spike pulled back and wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb. He kissed her
sweetly, offering comfort. "Are you scared now Buffy?"

"Yes and no. I fear what he could do because I don't feel it's over. Especially when I
remember the anger that consumed him and just the slightest hint of desperation in his eyes.
Desperation that I'd leave him. He wouldn't just let me go like he seems to have done."

"And me and Angel? Do you think he'd hurt you or us as well."

"I think he'd hurt anyone that got in his way of me."

"Then that's where we're even then, aren't we kitten? Because I'd hurt anyone that got
in my way of you. I'd rip him apart with my bare hands if he ever lay one finger on you again."

Buffy wrapped herself around him, "I love you. I don't know if I told you that today."

"You did, after we made love this morning, but thank you."

"Don't thank me for loving you. It was simply unavoidable."

He smiled and kissed her gently.

"I wish I could have remembered something about you instead of him," Buffy
whispered.

"That'd be nice, wouldn't it?" Spike grinned.

"Spike, promise me you won't go after him."

"Buffy—" How did she always know?

"Promise me. You'll only make him angry," she gazed at him, earnestly.

He sighed heavily. "I promise."

"Thank you."

"What do you want to do Buffy?" he asked her gently, stroking her back.

Without hesitation she answered, "Make him pay."

The End?


“Must you go to class tonight, Buffy? You’ve had quite a day. Can’t you just stay home with me?” Spike asked, slightly pouting as Buffy rolled off the bed to get ready for her self-defense class.

Buffy sighed and looked down at him. She
grinned when he jut out his lower lip even more.

“We can spar here if you want,” he said and
waggled his eyebrows.

She giggled, “Yeah, I know what you’re hoping
will happen.”

He gave up the pouting and smiled. “Can’t blame
a bloke for trying can you? I like to think of it as celebrating.”

Buffy crawled back into bed and allowed
herself to be wrapped back up in his arms. “Oh?”

He nodded. “It’s a celebration that we found
each other.”

“Which time? The first or second?” she teased.


“Both. And today it’s a celebration that your
safe and free of him. That you got out.”

“Yeah . . . I got out all right. At the expense of
my memories.”

“Let’s not focus on that, okay? The fact is,
someone was looking out for you.”

“Like a guardian angel?” she grinned, resting
her chin on his chest and gazing up at him.

He smiled, “Something like that, yeah.”

“I like to think of you as my guardian angel.”

“Well, I like to think of you as mine too. Especially
when you’re so worried about what Lindsey will do to me.”

“It’s an equal partnership, Spike. That’s the way
it has to be. I won’t settle for less, especially considering
where I just came from.”

“So we both wear the pants?”

“Well. . . “ she said grinning as her hand moved
to the fly of his jeans. Undoing them she said, “you don’t have
to wear pants right now if you don’t want to.”

He opened his mouth to say something when
she released his hardening member and gave it a lick. His
eyes screwed shut and he moaned. “Christ, Buffy.”

It was amazing to her how sucking him off
could make her so wet. She attributed it to Spike himself, no
way could she imagine this act making her feel the way she
did with anyone else. It was all him. She grinned and suckled
teasingly on the head and just when he was about to beg for
more, she took him completely in her mouth and sucked hard.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted and arched his back,
nearly hitting the back of her throat with his movement.

Needing him inside her, hard and fast, she lifted
the skirt she was wearing, pushed her panties to the side
and slid down him in one swift movement.
His eyes widened and a look of awe—one she’d seen just about every time they made love, came over his face. It sent tingles down her spine and, if possible, made her wetter than she already was. That look spoke volumes of how he felt about her, how he loved her. And she felt it in every part of her how he loved her for she loved him back
with the same, if not greater, intensity.

Placing her palms on his chest, she stared
gliding herself up and down him, swiveling her hips and
clenching her muscles. He watched her hotly and placed his
hands on her hips before gliding them up to her tank and
shoving it up roughly to expose her breasts. He wasted no
time in leaning up and taking one hard nipple in his mouth and
suckling it. The sensation went straight to her groin and she
moved harder on him. Moving his hands back on her hips, he
helped guide her movements and he laved her breasts with
his tongue.

“Kiss me,” he whispered and she obliged,
delving inside his hot cavern and exploring his mouth. When
he started mimicking his cock sliding in and out of her with his
tongue, Buffy felt herself beginning to arrive.

“Ride me hard Buffy, do it. My beautiful angel…
ride me…make me see stars,” he goaded her huskily.

Clenching her muscles, she rode him hard and
fast, her orgasm coming at her like a freight train. A second
later, he came hard, shooting his spendings inside her and
shouting her name.

Moving slightly against him still as they came
back down, she let Spike roll her to their sides and he
nuzzled her neck affectionately.

“Love it when you surprise me,” he told her
sleepily.

She smiled sleepily, “I love it too. Did you see
stars?”

“Bloody right I did,” he chuckled.

The phone ringing interrupted their ‘snogging’ as
Spike so eloquently put it. He was all set to ignore it, but
Buffy told him it could be Angel checking up and he’d worry if
there was no answer.

“Hello?. . . No, why? WHAT?! Hold on, I’ll call you
back.” Spike practically threw the phone across the room and
dived for the remote.

“Spike, what’s going on?” Buffy asked, startled,
sitting up.

The TV flicked on and the news flickered on.

“Spike!” Buffy exclaimed, feeling panic come
over her.

“Buffy, look,” Spike pointed to the TV.

“Oh my God,” Buffy breathed. They watched in
silence as Lindsey was escorted from his office in
downtown Boston and escorted into a police car, in
handcuffs. The caption on the bottom said ‘Lawyer Arrested
for Embezzlement’.

How was it possible? What happened? How—and why? The questions ran in her mind as a constant stream and all she could do was stare at the screen and blink. A commercial came on and still, she stared. Spike had gotten up and was on the phone with his P.I. Like a caged animal he walked around the penthouse, his voice at times heated and then calm. She barely registered him coming in the room. Though when he flicked off the TV, she looked up at him.

"He was caught from the inside," Spike stated grimly. "Schreb is at the police station. Buffy, you're going to be wanted for questioning."

"How did he get caught from the inside?" Buffy asked, bewildered.

Spike sat down next to her. "He got messy. Seems he was desperate."

"Desperate for money? For what? To pay someone off?"

"Buffy," Spike sighed.

Buffy threw up her arms, "Oh great. This oughtta be good. What was he
planning to do? Kidnap me and take me to South America?"

Spike stared at her.

Her jaw dropped. "You're kidding me!"

Spike nodded, "They searched his office. Apparently what happened was
over the years; Lindsey had been taking money from certain fees that
would be charged to the client. For example, if you're doing real estate, you
charge for when you order a title or a municipal lien certificate. Lindsey
would charge the client, but have them make it out to him and not deposit
it to the company. In that way, the company was taking the fall and those
things can add up to quite a bit. Or, if you're doing litigation, there's a fee
for a summons. He was also double invoicing—"

"Spike, get to the part on how he was going to kidnap me," Buffy said impatiently, tapping her foot.

"Right. He took money out of the firms escrow and out of the clients
retainers. They do the books on those items on the fifteenth of every
month. The fifteenth of this month happens to fall"

"On Saturday—tomorrow."

"Right. And usually they wait until after the weekend to do it, but they
decided instead to do it today. That's when they noticed that money was
missing all over the place in these accounts. Then the bank called
requesting Mr. McDonald come sign one of the checks as he'd missed one."

"Oh my God," Buffy shook her head in disbelief. "One slip and he got
caught."

"Exactly. He was caught off guard, he didn't know he'd been caught until
the police were there slapping the cuffs on him. Then they searched his
office and found two passports. His and yours with fake name and two one
way tickets to Brazil."

Buffy shut her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself feeling a wave of
nausea come over her. "How in the hell did he plan on taking me?" she
froze. "The pills."

"What?"

"The pills. The pills I remembered, the ones I saw when I was there
before. . . they were unmarked white pills in his medicine cabinet. But how
was he going to get me alone? I just don't get how—"

"Buffy," Spike stood and took her in his arms. "The man is sick and
twisted. He embezzled an enormous amount of money and planned to be
out of the country with you and didn't think he'd get caught—"

Buffy pushed her way out of his arms. "My cell phone. He must have left a
message on my cell phone." She bolted out the room, running to the kitchen
with Spike calling for her as he bounded after her.

She grabbed her purse and rummaged in her purse and extracted her cell.
It was flashing orange at the top. She flipped it open. "One missed call," she
muttered. "Yes, it's him. That's his number." Dialing in her voice mail
number she pressed it to her ear and met Spike's eyes as she listened.

"Hello Buffy, it's Lindsey. I know you don't want to see me anymore and I
understand that. I have some of your things still and was wondering if you
could at least meet me so I can give them to you. If you could find it in your
heart to let me explain and apologize for how I treated you—"

Buffy snapped her phone shut, "I'm going to be sick," and she ran to the
bathroom.

She emptied the contents of her stomach and slumped down on the floor.
"When are they going to send for me?" Buffy asked softly when Spike came
in and sat down on the floor next to her, pulling her up against his chest and
wrapping his arms around her.

"When they're done collecting evidence. They're going to want to question
you on what you know."

"Which isn't much."

"You have a memory."

She snorted, "A memory. One. One fucking memory. The rest is all just a
bunch of gut feelings. No one is going to incriminate him on any other crime
due to gut feelings. My accident—just me being clumsy, no way to trace it
to him is there? His beating me, drugging me . . . He's going to jail for
embezzling but there's no way to keep him there."

"Buffy, they're going to find everything they can to incriminate him. His
past is catching up with him and if there is a God in Heaven they will find a
way to keep him there for a really long time."

"I want to go to the house."

"Buffy, why—"

"Because I want to know what those pills are. I want to be in that house
until I remember."

Spike held her tighter, "Buffy, calm down."

"I'm just so frustrated. How long was I with and he did all these things to
me and I can't remember them all except for one isolated incident. He was
going to kidnap me and I could have a rap sheet a mile on his behavior
except I CAN'T REMEMBER. What if I knew about the embezzling? What
if I was part of it? What if he drags me down with him? I'm an amnesiac for
Christ's Sake. How many amnesiacs do you know? I'm going to be going to
court on something and have nothing."

"Buffy, he's not taking you down with him. He embezzled money, Buffy. He
was caught red-handed. You don't think his partners are going to fight
tooth and nail to have him put away for a very long time? Especially when
they investigate the leads Schreb has on him. We'll take this one day at a
time okay? I'll be with you every step of the way."

"I want to go to the house. I want to get those pills. I want to find out what
he was giving me."

"Buffy, you don't know if the cops are down there now with a warrant
checking things out. You wouldn't be able to get by."

"The man was going to kidnap me. I think I have precedence here. If I
want to find out about a goddman bottle of pills, then I can find out about a
goddamn bottle of pills. As a matter of fact," she maneuvered her way out
of Spike's arms, "I want to go down to the police station now."

"Buffy, do you really want to do this now?" Spike asked before they entered the police station.

Buffy nodded, resolute. Spike sighed and opened the door, gesturing for her to enter.

"Are you upset with me?" she asked, turning to face him as he followed
behind her.

"Not upset, per se. More concerned I'd say."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight worrying about this, Spike."

"I know, Buffy. I just . . . I'm not sure I want you to see him. Before we left
the house you just wanted to get the bottle of pills. Now you're wanting to
talk with him? I'm not liking this plan."

"He can't do anything to me."

"It doesn't stop me from worrying."

Reaching up, she cupped the side of his face and gave him a reassuring
smile. "I'll be all right. I want answers, Spike and he's the only one that can
give them to me."

"How do you know he'll give you any?"

"Let me ask you a question."

"Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like where this is going?"

"Humor me."

"All right, shoot. "

"When I left you in Rhode Island, how did you feel?"

He blinked. "Miserable. Then angry and miserable. Mostly, I felt
desperate—" he stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. He grabbed her arm
and dragged her back outside. "What the hell are you planning on doing?"

"A desperate man who believes himself in love with a woman will do
anything to get her back right? Even kidnap them."

"Buffy, he's a twisted fuck. He ABUSED you. He doesn't love you, he
doesn't know the meaning of the word!"

"But he believes himself in love with me. Enough to kidnap me."

"How do you know he wasn't planning on taking you just to murder you?"
The thought made both of them shiver and Spike grabbed her into his
arms. "Buffy, I don't like this idea—"

"It'll help though. It'll help the cops—"

"He's in sight more trouble than we probably know at this point, Buffy."

"You're a lawyer, you know about head games and how to work people and
read them. You don't think I can get stuff out of him? Let him sit there and
incriminate himself to me. Then they'll have more. They'll have his
confession."

Spike shook his head, "Buffy—"

"Did you take yourself down from the bar?"

"No."

"Good, because I might need representation depending on what he's done."



***************************************************************************************************


"Well, if it isn't the kidnap victim," the police chief said dryly after Buffy had come forward and identified herself. "We were just about to look you up."

"I'll be representing Miss Summers," Spike said, looking at Police Chief
Stuart sternly. Chief Stuart was a slightly pudgy, balding man with graying
hair and a frizzy mustache that did not seem at all impressed with Spike.
His annoyed gaze fell on Buffy.

"So Miss Summers, you up for some questions?"

Buffy nodded.

Chief Stuart looked at Spike. "You can come in the room I suppose. Follow
me." Walking around the counter at which he'd been standing, he led them
to his office, that fact only clear by his name on the door. Opening the door
for them, he stood aside to let them in and then closed the door behind him,
taking a seat in a ratty brown chair overlooking a cluttered gray desk. Buffy
and Spike sat in the matching ratty brown chairs on the other side of the
desk. Buffy placed her hands in her lap and waited with her heart racing,
feeling if she didn't know what Lindsey had said to incriminate her in
something she had no memory or knowledge of, she was going to scream.

"Doughnut? Coffee?" Chief Stuart asked.

Buffy shook her head.

"You're a lot prettier in person than the picture in the passport," he told
her.

"Thanks," Buffy managed to get out, wishing she'd taken him up on the
coffee now. Her throat suddenly felt like the Sahara.

"So," Chief Stuart said, "Tell me what you know about Mr. Money Bags."

Buffy cleared her throat. "See, that's the hard part."

"That's right. On account of the amnesia," Chief Stuart said nodding. "Your
detective that I believe you—" he pointed at Spike "hired, told me. Why
did you hire him? He rip off your firm too or something?"

"Or something," Spike said.

"This just gets better and better. What do you BOTH know?"

"He's a bad man," Buffy said softly.

"Lots of bad men in this city, hell, in this WORLD, Miss Summers. Thing is,
without some concrete facts, you can't put those ‘bad' men away for very
long."

"I think he drugged me," Buffy blurted out.

"You THINK he drugged you. What makes you think that?"

"Buffy—" Spike started.

Buffy placed a hand on Spike's arm. "It's okay, Spike. If I don't tell, they'll
never know. I'LL never know." She looked back to Chief Stuart. "Just
today I had a memory of Lindsey."

"Just today?"

She nodded.

"Isn't that convenient?"

"Miss Summers is NOT on trial here, Chief Stuart. There are also
witnesses at the time this happened and it was well before Mr. McDonald
was arrested," Spike said sternly.

"Relax Romeo," Chief Stuart snapped.

"Spike, please," Buffy told him.

"Miss Summers, please continue," Chief Stuart said kindly to her. "Listen,
you're not in any trouble. Just had a lot of people that seem to be enemies
of Mr. McDonalds and want to see him locked up for a very long time.
Among them, I believe your brother."

Buffy's eyes widened, "My BROTHER was here?"

"Said you, I believe the exact words were ‘suffered at the hands of a
fucking asshole bully and should be locked up with the key thrown out.'"

Buffy couldn't help but laugh, a nervous laugh that had Spike grabbing her
hand and silently advising her not to laugh while having Chief Stuart grin.

"What sorts of people have been coming in against him?" Buffy asked.

"Clients he'd screwed over in one way or another. Couple people he was
blackmailing for money that seemed to think this was a safe time for them
to come out of the woodwork. His co-workers – but then they'd just gotten
ripped off. And, clients whom thought they might have gotten screwed over
by him. It's amazing this guy had a job, but then it sounds as if he wasn't
getting much in the way of work which is why he was embezzling."

Buffy was stunned, "Really?"

Chief Stuart nodded. "I need to hear in your own words Miss Summers
what you know."

"I know that my amnesia was caused by an accident. The accident being
that I fell down the stairs and Lindsey—Mr. McDonald found me. I know
that I was not able to be in that house for long periods of time after my
accident because it made me feel uncomfortable. I know that Mr. McDonald
made me nervous and frightened me when I was in his presence. The
memory I had today attested to why. I remembered an incident today in
which Mr. McDonald beat me and then gave me pills—"

"Pills? What kind of pills?" Chief Stuart asked grimly.

"I don't know. They're in his medicine cabinet. I was there just before I
broke up with him and they were in the medicine cabinet, unmarked white
pills."

"Why were you in his medicine cabinet?"

"Honestly—" Spike jumped in.

"Because," Buffy cut him off. "I was trying to see if I remembered what
was in there. I was playing a game suggested by my doctor to see if I was
able to ‘feel' things out about why I felt so uncomfortable with him."

"Can I have your doctor's name and number?"

"Of course."

Chief Stuart sat back. "Listen, I believe you. The guy's a rat. I can tell. I
can see it on him."

"Has he—has he said anything?" Buffy asked.

"No, and that's the thing. He's digging himself in deeper. He's not saying a
damn word. He's a damn mute. Damn irritating if you ask me. So, listen, I
have to routinely check things out, considering you are the one he was
planning on kidnapping and since you were living with him at one time. I
understand that you have amnesia and don't remember anything, but I still
have to check things out. I understand what you mean, Miss Summers
about following gut feelings. A lot of this job is about that."

"Chief Stuart, do you think it's possible I could talk to him?"

He stared at her. "You want to talk to him?"

"I might be able to get him to talk."

"You think you could get him to talk and incriminate himself?"

"Yes."

"He'll know," Spike said, "He'll know."

Buffy licked her lips. "Not if we lie to him."

"How do you mean?" Chief Stuart demanded and Spike squeezed her
hand.

"If we got him to believe that I bailed him out. You could plant a wire on
me or something. Like they do in the movies. We could set him up to
believe I'm helping him."

Chief Stuart sat back and whistled. "You've got a dark side to you Miss
Summers."

"Buffy, I do NOT like this idea at all," Spike said, shaking his head.
"Absolutely not."

"Well, Attorney SPIKE, I think your little lady might be on to something
here."

“You liked him? You can’t be serious,” Spike said eyeing Buffy warily. He was wound up tight; there was no doubt about that. He was ready to snap. Mostly because Buffy seemed determined to put herself in the Lion’s Den.

“The poor guy has had to deal with Lindsey. How would you feel?” She asked as they waited for Chief Stuart to get back to them on a plan after chatting with the detectives.

“Buffy—“ Spike started, a slight whine to his voice that he did not care for.

“Stop worrying so much,” she admonished him.

“The fact that you’re not worrying worries me even more. This is suicide, Buffy.”

“It’s not. He’ll talk to me. I know he will. I’ll never be free of him if I don’t do something to get him. Look at me, Spike. I have fucking amnesia—“

“Yes, exactly. And now you’re putting yourself in more danger—what is it gonna take for you to see?”

“My memories,” she said softly. “Which he stole from me.”

“You’re not going to get them back by doing this, Buffy, I’m sorry—“

“I know that. I know I won’t get them back, but I will be able to take my life back.”

Spike ran a hand through his hair and glared at her, “Thanks. So what has all this been? Just passing time until you could stick it to Lindsey?”

She glared back, “No, and you know it. This whole time has been about me getting my life back, but also living in fear of what he’d do. I don’t want to do it anymore Spike.”

“Can’t you be satisfied with knowing what he had planned to do?”

“No,” she said defiantly.

“Buffy—“ there was that whine again.

“Maybe one day when you have your memories taken from you after being with someone that you let hurt you on a daily basis, you’ll understand,” she said heatedly, her body shaking from anger. “From all the things I’ve heard, my life was not a peach thanks to that man. Instead of being in love, I was in hell and I was afraid. If the fear that I feel not remembering is anyindication on what he’s done to me, then you’ll have to excuse me if I want to seize this opportunity with both hands. I want him gone. Behind bars, in jail, gone. I want him to rot and suffer and spend the rest of his life remembering what he’s done.”

Spike opened her mouth to speak when Angel came barreling in the room with Chief Stuart right behind him.

“Buffy, don’t do this,” Angel pleaded with her, his eyes wild with fear.

“Yeah, like I haven’t tried that,” Spike said irritably. “Bloody stubborn chit if you ask me. How that psycho ever managed to get one up on you, I’ll never know!”

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst and he just shot her a pointed glared.

“Buffy, look, you can’t do this,” Angel started on his plea again.

“So Miss Summers, have you changed your mind?” Chief Stuart asked, looking from Angel to Spike grimly.

She shook her head and stood tall and brave. “Nope.”

The chief grinned, “Good. Look boys,” he started, “It’s gonna be all right. She’s gonna have wires on, she’s going to be protected. I’ve got cruisers from the next two towns on this. They’re lined up at every block. Should he get any funny ideas in that brain of his, we’ll be right there.”

“She’s getting in the car with him?” Spike and Angel exploded at the same time.

“It’s got to be believable,” Chief Stuart said by way of explanation. “If she just goes into his cell to have a heart – to – heart, he won’t talk cause he’ll know we’re all here. If she goes outside this building, he’ll talk. He’ll think he’s alone.”

“How the fucking hell do you know that? He’s . . . he’s a fucking demon. He was going to kidnap her. How do you know he’s not going to hurt her the first chance he gets?” Spike roared.

“Because, Mr. Knightly, Mr. McDonald is well aware of the trouble he’s in. He’s not allowed to leave the country, hell, even this damn city. He knows his goose is cooked right now and he’s not going to do anything to jeopardize that. Especially if he believes he’ll have Miss Summers by his side when this is over.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Buffy said, smiling, actually smiling at the Chief.

Spike bit back a ‘You’ve lost your bloody mind,’ thinking it wouldn’t get him very far.

“Let’s get you wired up Miss Summers. Can you use your brother’s car?”

Buffy looked at Angel.

“Buffy—“ now he was starting to whine.

“I’m doing this, Angel. If you want that bastard locked up, then you’ll help me right now.”

“You’re so lucky I came down,” he grumbled and dug in his pocket and handed her the car keys.

“Angel!” Spike exclaimed, horrified that Angel had just caved like that.

Angel looked at him apologetically, “I know, I don’t want her to do it either, but she’s not going to quit until she does it.”

“Besides, we just would have let her borrow one of our cars,” the chief supplied.

“Buffy,” Spike said, feeling like ponce because he felt dangerously close to tears. “I don’t want to lose you baby. I almost did once and it killed me. I can’t do it again.”

She walked up to him and placed a hand on his cheek. “You won’t lose me. I promise. He won’t do anything to me, Spike.”

“How do you know?” he asked, and his voice cracked slightly.

“For all the reasons Chief Stuart just said. He doesn’t want to risk this. If he thinks he has me, really has me, he’ll not do a thing to jeopardize that. Besides,” she said with a soft smile, “I know if anything should happen, you’ll rescue me. You already have.”

He shook his head and brought her into his arms, holding onto her tightly and burying his face in her neck. “You rescued me. I need you; I love you.”

She stroked his back soothingly, “I love you too. I’ll be fine.”

“After this, you’re moving in with me, you understand? And we’re getting engaged. I don’t care if it’s too soon and all that rot. You get me?” he demanded urgently, making her look at him.

She nodded, “Yes, yes.”

“I mean it. You’re going to be my wife and you’re never going to leave me.”

She shook her head, “Never.”

“Say it, tell me.”

“I love you Spike. Only you and I will move in with you and we’ll get engaged as soon as this is over,” she recited, tears running down her cheeks.

Growling, he kissed her passionately, unaware and uncaring of the others in the room. She ended the kiss and he held her still.

“Let me go now, Spike,” she whispered. “Have faith in me, please. I need you to have faith in me.”

With a shuddering breath, he let her go.

Giving Angel a hug in which he made one last plea to stop her, she walked out with Chief Stuart.

“We’ll let you know when you can come out. We have to make sure he doesn’t see either of you,” Chief Stuart told them.

Quietly, they could hear him ask Buffy, “Are you sure he’s not abusive?” and then the sound of Buffy’s laughter rang through the halls.

Trust Me pt. 2



Buffy watched them put the wire on her with acute interest. It was kind of fascinating. Not because of what they were doing, that was pretty mundane and well, technical, but because she was doing something the required a wire.

How my life has changed, she mused.

After her parent’s death, her and Angel had a pretty normal life. It was just the two of them and they got by just fine. Then she got amnesia and now this. Now she had a psychotic ex boyfriend locked up in jail and she was about to lie to him to get him to confess. No, more than just lie. Act. She was going to have to act her ass off because really, he repulsed her.

Buffy had never considered herself a courageous sort of person. And yet here she was, a cold wire taped to her and about to face off with her …what was he exactly? What would describe Lindsey? Her attacker? Her abusive ex-boyfriend? Her menace? Her nightmare?

All of the above.

“Ready, Miss Summers?” Chief Stuart asked once she was all done.

She nodded mutely.

“You’re not having second thoughts are you?”

She shook her head.

“You’re scared now,” he said matter- of- factly.

She wasn’t pleased to learn that yes, she was now afraid. Would she convince him? Would he see right through her? Her hands involuntarily traveled to her neck.

Chief Stuart cocked his head to the side and regarded her thoughtfully. “You remember him ever strangling you?”

She looked at him strangely, “No, why?”

“You’re holding onto your neck. Did you even realize you did that?”

She looked down to her hands wrapped in a protective manner around her neck. She shook her head, startled, “No, I -- I didn’t.”

Chief Stuart blew air out of his mouth, “Miss Summers, I’m very sorry for what he did to you, but I can guarantee that if you can get him to confess, you will never have to worry about him again.”

Buffy smiled, “Thank you.”

He smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

“My boyfriend doesn’t like you,” she blurted out.

Chief Stuart grinned a toothy grin, “Don’t you mean fiancé?”

She smiled, “Yeah, fiancé.”

He shrugged, “He doesn’t have to like me.”

“I like you though.”

“Is this confessional?”

Buffy laughed, “No, I guess I just . . . I feel better letting you know that I like you.”

“So that I’ll make doubly sure you won’t get hurt?”

She nodded, “I guess that’s right.”

“It’s okay. Even if you hated me, I’d still protect you.”

“Thank you.”

“He won’t hurt you Miss Summers. He has nothing on him and the first sign of distress, we’re there. I have my deputy right around the corner in an unmarked car to follow you as soon as you’ve passed him. Do you know what you’re going to say?”

She shook her head, “Not a clue.”

“Don’t you think you should figure that out? How about starting with asking him if it’s true about the embezzling?”

“I can do it; I have to do it my own way. If I follow a script, I’ll just get nervous that I’m not following it and mess up. I’ve got to . . . “

“Got to what?”

“Follow my gut.”

****************
Standing outside the door to the holding cell, she could see The Menace through the small dirty and blurred window separating them. He was sitting there in his rumpled suit staring at the floor with a blank expression on his face. Oh boy, this was going to be fun.

“You ready?” Chief Stuart asked behind her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She nodded, “Ready.”

“On the count of three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three . . . Please get my boyfriend out of there!” She exclaimed in a high pitched tone, hoping he could hear her through the door.

“He’s looking up,” the chief muttered, “Keep going, you’re doing great.”

“Please, Mr. Stuart—“

“Chief Stuart, thank you very much.”

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever, just let me in and let me get him.”

Bursting through the door, Buffy rushed to Lindsey’s cell who was looking up at her in a mixture of disbelief and hope. He looked at her as if she were going to vanish and yet really hoping she was really there.

“Lindsey,” she said on a sigh and reached for him through the bars.

I am so going into acting, she thought. But when he reached for her through the bars tentatively and she had to fight back a wince she thought, maybe not.

His fingers delicately touched hers, probably the only delicate touch he’d ever bestowed on her in a long time, she thought. He looked at her questioningly.

“You didn’t think I’d leave you here, did you?” she asked him, forcing herself to smile gently, almost lovingly.

He stared at her in utter disbelief. “Buffy?” he said, his voice hoarse.

That’s what happens when you don’t talk asshole, she thought. She nodded at him, “Who else?”

“You’re really here?”

“You’re touching me, aren’t you?”

“You came for me?”

She nodded. Okay, Remorseful Buffy now. She bit her lip and looked down, “I was wrong. I thought – I listened to the ones that were trying to keep us apart. I was wrong,” she finished on a whisper. “Can you forgive me? If you can’t I understand. I’ll just go and—“

“No!” He reached out and took hold of her hand. “No. Please. Stay with me.”

“I’m with you,” she smiled. Puke, puke, she thought. “I paid your bail.”

His eyes widened, “You paid my—oh baby.” He did something then that Buffy hadn’t expected him to do. He started to cry. Sob, really. Bawl. Like a freaking baby. What the hell?

“Listen, as much as I love to see you two lovebirds reunite, I got shit to do. You want to take this someplace else?” Chief Stuart said, unlocking the cell.

Buffy hesitantly went to Lindsey and placed a hand on his shoulder. He spun to her, startling her and swept her up in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.

She ran a hand down his back, trying hard not to be stiff. “For what, baby?” Oh god, I’ll never be able to call Spike that again, she thought.

He didn’t answer, just sobbed into her neck.

“Excuse me!” Chief Stuart barked.

“We have to go,” Buffy said firmly, pushing at him slightly. She cupped his face, making him look at her, “Let’s go home okay?”

He nodded, whimpering and grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly as he followed her out.

“You took Angel’s car?” he asked in disbelief as she led him outside.

She grinned, hoping it looked convincing and not forced, “I stole it. You mind?”

He shook his head, “No baby, I don’t mind.”

“Get in.”

She was thankful he didn’t ask to drive because truthfully, she needed something to do other than just sitting there. She needed to have something else to focus on than how sick he made her and how gross she felt having let him touch her. Not to mention the growing fear of having to be back at that house they once shared.

The car ride started out silent. She looked over a few times at him, and he seemed deep in contemplative thought.

“Lindsey, did you do it?” she asked finally.

“Buffy . . . “

“What?”

“What about him?” he nearly snarled out the question.

“Him?” she decided to play dumb. Maybe that way, he’d believe she was over Spike and that he actually meant nothing to her.

“Don’t patronize me!” he shouted, slamming his fist down on the dashboard.

Buffy nearly jumped out of her skin and her heart jumped into her throat. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything except drive. She swallowed hard and could hear her breath coming out heavy.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to yell like that. It’s been a long day.”

She nodded, “That’s . . . okay. We can just go home and rest okay?”

“Is it over, Buffy?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you leave me?” he asked on a whisper.

“I was . . . scared.”

He looked at her, “Of me?”

Yes. “Of. . . us. Of me. Of our . . .love,” she nearly choked on the word.

“And now?”

“I want to make it up to you,” she said in a breathless rush, hoping he believed her.

He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, smiling dopily at her, “You will,” he assured her. “You will.”

********
As soon as they entered the house in which Buffy shook all over from the mere sight of it, Lindsey seemed to snap into action. He took her hand and ran up the stairs, leaving her no choice but to follow. She felt bile rise to her throat. Oh God, he didn’t want to . . . please God . . . She simply could not do that.

Letting go of her hand in the bedroom he ran to the closet and started ripping clothes out of it. “Start packing, Buffy.”

She stood, frozen and relieved. “What?”

“Start packing.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

He stopped and turned to her. “London, Mexico, Caribbean, I don’t care at this point, but we’re not staying here.”

“You can’t go anywhere. You leave the country and –“

“If they can’t find me, they can’t do anything to me,” he said, grinning.

“You did it,” she said matter-of-factly. “You embezzled that money.”

He barked out a laugh, an insane laugh that sent chills up her spine and made her wonder where the sniveling man was that had been crying on her shoulder at the police station. Had that been all an act?

“Of course I did. I had to.” He waved his hands around, “How else was I able to pay for your house?”

“My house?”

“This is –was—all yours, my sweet Buffy. Don’t worry. I have funds in places undetected. I’ll get you another home. Just like this one.”

She shook her head, “I don’t want another one. I can barely stand this one,” she told him truthfully. She wanted to kick herself for saying that thought out loud. Was she trying to egg him on?

He glared at her. “You never said that before.”

“Maybe I was afraid to.”

“Oh knock it off, Buffy,” he snapped. “You learn to get all tough from Angel and your stupid little boy toy? Start packing.”

Straightening, she said simply, “No.”

“Yes,” he hissed.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? Drug me?” she snapped.

“Stop being so damn insolent and pack!”

“Or will you push me down the stairs again?”

He froze, and turned white. “You—“

Go for the gold, Buffy. “Remember? Yeah, I remember.”

His eyes narrowed, “You’re lying.”

“Takes one to know one doesn’t it Lindsey?” she all but snarled at him.

“You never . . . you never just fucking stop!” He stalked over to her and before she knew what was happening, he drew his arm back and snapped her head to the side with the force of his backhand. “Pack,” he said through clenched teeth.

That made her angry. Angry at him for hitting her, angry at herself for having stayed with him for so long, angry for her memories being lost, angry at herself for not being able to remember, angry for living in fear of this disgusting man before her. So incredibly angry. Balling her hands into fists she took a deep breath and hauled off and punched him square in the nose.

He swayed to the side, letting out a yell and clutching his nose. Then with almost preternatural agility, he swayed back up and faced her. If his eyes could glow like a demon, they would be at that moment. “You ungrateful bitch!”

Raising his hand he made to hit her again and she instinctively reached up and caught it in her hand and then, when his eyes widened in surprise, she kneed him in the groin.

“You don’t touch me anymore!” she screamed at him and punched him in the jaw and then kicked him in the stomach. He doubled over and fell to his knees. Having the advantage she started to kick him again when he caught her ankle, causing her to fall. Her mind was screaming Not again! Never again!

He laughed that maniacal laugh and started to lunge, like a cat. “Oh little girl thinks she can one up now does she? Got a taste of freedom and think your shit don’t stink!”

Roaring a battle cry, she kicked up, catching him on the jaw and he went flying backwards on his back. Not again! Never again

Buffy was so caught up in the moment she didn’t hear the police cars swarming the house and them banging in to get to them. He lay on his back, glaring at her. With a growl, he started to get up and go after her. Not again! Never again!She spun into a round house kick and kicked him once more in the stomach and then placed an upper cut under his chin, rattling his teeth. He fell to the ground with a groan.

“Buffy!”

When she felt a hand on her shoulder she spun to attack whoever was behind her and then she saw Spike, right there, and behind him, the men in blue barreling in to detain Lindsey. Promptly, she burst into tears.

Hauling her into his arms, Spike held her tight, Angel rushing in a second later.

“It’s over, Buffy,” he said soothingly, “It’s over now. So proud of my girl. So, so proud of my girl.”

She didn’t even look up to see them taking the bloody mess that was Lindsey away, and she barely heard Chief Stuart come in and pat her on the back for a job well done. All Buffy could do was cry out her anger and her frustration and her relief.

It was finally over.

Two years later

Lindsey didn’t make it long in jail as it turned out. They’d gotten him not only for embezzling, but for attempted murder for what he had done to Buffy. He claimed temporary insanity as he ‘never wanted to hurt her’, but that notion had been thrown out of court due to his possession of a date rape drug he’d used on Buffy for years – a drug he’d blackmailed a doctor to get. His whole intention on using the drug had been to make Buffy compliant to his whims and to ‘punish her’ when she ‘talked back’ to him.

Hearing the truth had been jarring and disturbing. Buffy still hadn’t gotten her memories back, but she really didn’t want them back at that point either. She didn’t want to have to remember all she’d gone through with Lindsey. She wished that she could remember her time with Spike, but it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. They were together now and that was all that mattered.

So, as it turned out, Lindsey had gotten into a fight in jail and had been murdered. He’d only been in the state penitentiary for about four months before it happened.

Buffy felt in some way that she’d gotten gypped out what Lindsey deserved, but she’d made her peace with it, with Spike and her brother’s help, and moved on. It was time to put it to rest along with her amnesia. It was time for new memories to be made.

After the night she’d beat Lindsey up and essentially brought him to justice, Spike had reneged on his demands that she move in and they get engaged. He wanted her to be sure and didn’t want her to feel forced into something like that. She imagined he felt that perhaps demanding her as he had was akin to what Lindsey had done to her and was abhorred at the idea of being anything like the man.

However, Buffy assured him she wanted to do it. She was ready – and not because she was feeling emotional after all that had happened, or because she felt she needed him to take care of her, she could take care of herself just fine she’d realized, but she did not want to waste anymore time with Spike.

It was full speed ahead. That didn’t mean though that she was about to let Spike cart her off to Vegas as he wanted, and marry her. No, she wanted to do it up right and give herself the romantic conclusion that she deserved. She imagined that her old self hadn’t been too keen on getting married to such a man as Lindsey and that the prospect of a wedding hadn’t exactly been a happy subject, however, this Buffy wanted a big wedding. She wanted her friends, and what little family she had, the see her walking down the aisle and joining her life happily to the man that was her future. Though, as much as she wanted the fairy tale wedding, she also did want it done quickly, and her wedding was planned in a short six months.

It had been a glorious day and Angel not only gave her away, but served as Spike’s best man – and managed to be set up with a woman, Cordelia Chase, that Spike taught with at Boston University.

“It’s about time I found a woman of my own,” Angel told her, “Your love life is no longer a worry anymore.”

It was funny because it was true.

Currently the pair was living together and Cordelia was dropping big hints in the form of ring advertisements placed daily on the kitchen table, as to where she saw her future going with Angel. Angel, for his part, enjoyed driving her crazy by pretending not to take the hint though he had a ring already picked out and was waiting for ‘the right time’ to propose.

And now, Buffy was pondering the past few years of her life, and all the memories she’d made, as she was arranging photo’s in the photo album she’d bought on her way home from work.

She’d been leaving work early these days due to her state of pregnancy. Two more months and the little bun in the oven – who would be name Joyce after her and Angel’s mother – would arrive.

“Honey, I’m home!” Spike called throughout their home and she smiled.

“I’m in the dining room,” she called back to him.

He graced the top of her head with a kiss, “What are you doing?” he asked and loosened his tie, whipped it off and then shed his jacket.

She smiled, “I’m putting all these photo’s away so they don’t get lost in the mound of pictures we’ll be taking of Joyce.”

Grinning, Spike sat down next to her and reached out, placing his hand over her belly. “How’s my little girl in there?”

“Enjoying making her mommy have to use the bathroom every five minutes.”

Spike laughed, “So I guess that answers my question on how my big girl is doing.”

She smiled and looked up at him, “And how’s my big boy?”

He grinned mischievously,. “Currently wanting some attention…he knows he might not get a lot when the baby arrives and he wants to save up some while he can. . . “

“My, my, Mr. Knightly, are we feeling randy this afternoon?”

Leering at her, he waggled his brows, “Quite, Mrs. Knightly.”

She frowned then, “I don’t know how you can want to make love to me like this. I feel like I’m all over the place.”

“Buffy, you have to know that you are so sexy like this. Swollen with my child – do you know how hot it gets me?”

She pouted, “No, why don’t you tell me some more?”

Standing up, taking her hand and gently tugging her to her feet, he kissed her sweetly, “How about I show you instead?” he asked huskily.

She started for the bedroom, and he halted her. She looked up at him in question.

“Buffy, my luv,” he told her, nudging her to sit on the table. “You and I have made love all over this penthouse. When the baby comes, we won’t be able to be as adventurous in our lovemaking. So, I say we take full advantage of the freedom now.”

She smiled, “I like the way you think.”

“When you actually listen to me,” he muttered, and grinned when she playfully swatted him.

“Now, you listen – oooh….keep doing that.”