Chapter 1

"Hey, Got a kiss for me, Spike?"

"Sure, Mrs G. Here, I got your mail."

"Pass it through, sweetheart. They've been round again."

Spike fed the letters one by one to the wrinkled hand poking through the gap in the door. Half a face peered out at him, thin and old.

"Who've been round again? The aliens?"

"Told them to go away, I did. Not getting me for that abduction stuff. What've you done to your hair?"

"Bleached it, what do ya think?"

"Makes you look like a poof. Not kissing you with hair like that."

"You think so? Thought it was sort of cool. How're you doing in there?. You had something to eat today?"

"Yeah, chef prepared me something. You gonna give me that kiss then?"

"Whenever you're ready, Mrs G." He pulled at his tie, loosening the knot. "Gotta get a shower and stuff, hard day."

"Ahh, you don't want to kiss me, I'm too old and wrinkly. Prefer her upstairs, don't you? That her mail?"

"Yep. Don't forget to switch off the telly when you go to bed."

"I won't Jack. Why are you standing in the hall?"

"I'm not Jack love. Jack's gone. I'm Spike, your landlord, remember?"

Confused eyes stared for a moment, then lit up. "I could teach you a thing or two, young man. Tiger in bed, I was."

Spike turned for the stairs, laughing as he went. "I bet you could that. You take care now." He climbed, working at the tie knot, pulling it free from his collar and stuffing it into his pocket. At least Mrs. G paid her rent. Her upstairs was two months behind, and he had no idea what to do about it. Way too much of a soft touch to call her on it.

Nice one Spike. Wonderful investment opportunity. Big house, three apartments. Live in one, rent out the other two. Simple.

Except for the batty tenant on the ground floor, who thought he was her husband, and whose hobby seemed to be propositioning him at every opportunity. And for the charity case with the kid and the psychotic ex husband on the next floor. Whose drunken attempts to win back his wife were becoming more than a problem.

She'd come with glowing references that one. Rental agent must have seen him coming a mile off. Trouble is she had those eyes. The ones that made you feel like the world's biggest shit because you asked for rent. For an apartment that you own, that she's supposed to be renting. That's how it worked. Usually. But not this time. Because they saw him coming, that's why.

All hard and sharp on the outside, world's biggest softie in the middle.

And god help her, she had a kid with those eyes too. Between the pair of them it was like an advert for the SPCA. You know, take me home with you today and I'll be your friend for life, cue big puppy dog eyes that made you melt inside and form a line.

Bills, more bills. He flicked through her mail. Bills that she couldn't pay. That her worthless excuse of an ex husband was supposed to be helping to pay. Only all he ever did was call round to shout abuse through the door when he'd had a skinful on a Saturday night. And any other night that he remembered how good the sex with her had been, and he wanted some.

It wasn't going to end in hugs and puppies. No way. He couldn't very well stand by and listen to her and the kid crying as that prat pounded on the door, could he? Reckoned it was part of his landlordly duties. Like collecting rent.

Yep, him and Angel were going to come to blows, and soon. And he wasn't looking forward to it.

"Buffy?" He didn't knock, never knocked. Knew it scared the hell out of them. Never met anyone who was scared of knocking before. She'd near enough jumped out of her chair the last time he'd been there and someone had knocked on the door. Niblet had run into the bedroom and got in the closet, for gods sake.

"Buffy, Dawn? You in there. Got your mail."

Squealing noises, the sound of three bolts being thrown back, two faces, one anxious, one not. A tiny body squeezing round the door, small arms around his legs, tiny hands grabbing at his trouser legs.

"Uncle Spike. What did you do to your hair?"

He bent down and swept her up, swinging her into the air, pretending to drop her. Making her squeal some more. Small arms around his neck this time, a soft cheek against his. Fingers in his hair.

"What've you got me, Uncle Spike?"

"That's not very polite Dawnie."

She looked tired, and she hadn't dressed yet. He flicked a glance at his watch, squirming as Dawnie stuck her hand in his jacket pocket. Five o' clock and she wasn't dressed yet.

"I've found it mommy." Dawnie held up the candy bar, then planted a wet kiss on Spike's cheek, hugging him tight. "I love you Spike. You're better than daddy. Tell him mommy, he's better than daddy, isn't he?"

"Anyone's better than daddy, Dawnie. Get down now, I need to talk to Spike."

Spike put her down and watched her run back into the apartment. Kisses for rent, that's all he got. He knew what Buffy was going to say.

She ran a hand through blond hair that hadn't been combed, and gave him those eyes. Those I can't afford to pay my rent again eyes. Those instant, bloody, hard-on eyes. He closed his jacket just in case and handed over the bills. She stared at them for a moment, then at him. He put them in his pocket. Bloody soft touch he was. Couldn't have them cut off her electric and stuff, could he?

Now he was getting the smile. Bloody expensive smile, though. The door opened wide, she wrapped her ratty robe around her and stood back.

"Like the hair, coffee?"

"Could murder one."

"I'll see if I've got some milk. Make yourself a space on the couch."

"Black's fine. How's the computer?"

He followed her into the kitchen, leaned on the doorframe. "Need any help?"

"Would you, Spike? Damned thing's gone and died on me again. You know, when it rains…"

"No problem, pet. When did it go?"

"Last night. Haven't updated the site in a week."

Now it was the trembly lip. The eyes he could just about resist, but when she did that lip thing he had to turn away, cos she was darned real near irresistible. Robe falling open too. Nice bit of flesh peeping over the top. He tried not to look, he really did. Niblet was back, arms around his legs again, looking up at him, adoring.

"You should marry mommy, then you could be my daddy."

"Dawnie." They both spoke at once, she turned back to the sink, he crouched down.

"You've got a daddy Dawnie, but I like being Uncle Spike. That okay with you?"

Big smile, another hug. He'd never been so hugged.

"Come watch Barney with me."

"Dawnie, Spike's going to fix the computer, leave him alone for a bit, will you?"

"Okay, mommy. He can fix the computer, and watch Barney."

"Go in Niblet, I'll just be a minute."

Buffy filled the kettle, put it on the stove, made a token attempt at tidying a mess she'd lost control of ages ago.

"I can't pay the rent again."

"I know."

"Look, Spike, we'll move out, this isn't fair on you. You bought this place to make money, not as a homeless shelter. I'm looking for somewhere else."

"You going back to him?"

Hands in her hair again. Face that told him she knew she looked awful, as ratty as the robe. Only she didn't really. She could have been wearing a bin bag and he'd still have had to do his jacket up.

Bloody adorable, that's what she was. And a bloody idiot he was, mooning about after her, bribing the kid with candy bars. Mending her computer. Fending off the prat All on a promise of nothing. She'd been burned, she had. And it was still raw. Wasn't looking for a replacement any time soon. He could tell that much.

Happy to take him for a sucker though. Just as happy as he was to be one. She got to not pay her rent or bills and he got to ogle her when he thought she wasn't looking, got to sit by her on the sofa, got to smell her when she passed just that bit too close and got to mend her computer when the bloody thing died on her.

Which luckily, was all the time these days.

He took the coffee. Watched her shake her head.

"No, he wants me back though. You heard him Spike."

"Yeah, whole bloody street heard him. Get a restraining order Buffy. Think of Dawnie."

"I know, I know."

He followed her into the living room, watched her throw toys and clothes off the sofa on to the floor, sat by her when she patted the seat next to her.

"You look tired, love. Are you sleeping?"

"Not really, keep thinking he's gonna turn up, you know?"

He didn't know, really, but he nodded anyway. He hadn't had a bad life. Oh, he'd had his share of women leaving him, the pain of a long term relationship breaking up, but nothing like this. Landed on his feet, he did. Had himself a good wallow, then dusted himself off. and got on with it. On to bigger and better things. His first two books were selling well, he'd just landed an advance on the third, and today he'd been talking with film studio executives about rights to a TV series. It didn't come any better.

"Look, next time he comes, call me, okay?"

"No, Spike, you don't know what he's like when he's in that kind of mood."

She leaned her head back on the couch. Nice smooth lines, under her chin, neck, right down to her cleavage. He wondered if she knew she was doing it, whether she was doing it on purpose. Those bills needed paying.

She rolled her head sideways to look at him, he turned away, guiltily. A small body squeezed between them and wriggled into place, head on his chest, a small sigh. Someone's paradise, but not hers.

Not the larger of the two females to whom he was rapidly becoming some sort of knight in shining armour. Good job he'd never gone into business. How the hell would he ever make any money if he kept giving it away like this?

He could see she wasn't a natural blond. Something they had in common then. Niblet's hands pushed into his hair, combing the strands up straight.

"Eugh, what did you do, Uncle Spike, you've gone all sticky?"

"My new image, love. Gotta have an image if I'm gonna be famous."

"Will you be like Barney on the tv?"

"Yeah, gonna paint myself purple and do a silly dance."

"Mommy, did you hear that, Uncle Spike's gonna be purple."

Bit of a smile, nice to see it when money wasn't involved. Nice to see any reaction other than resignation. Maybe after a while, your features just sort of set, because they know what to expect. Know that life's not going to get any better so you might as well get used to it.

She had that expression that said it all. Despair, hopelessness. Can't be bothered any more. What's the point? Made the smile a bit more special. Had to make an effort for that. Niblet got down and joined in with Barney's crazy dance. Made them both laugh, that. Both of them sitting on her sofa, heads back, looking at each other now. Sharing a moment.


(thoughts)
**God, you're gorgeous Buffy. Wish you were mine. How could that wanker do this to you? Wish I'd got to you first. You know, don't you? Know you've got me by the short and curlies. Know I'll always be standing by, hopefully, just in case. What's going on in that head of yours? **


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(thoughts)
**Mend my computer, Spike. Wave a magic wand and make this all go away. Take me somewhere, anywhere. Away from all this. I'm pregnant, Spike. What the hell am I gonna do? **


"What're you thinking, Spike?"

"Nothing. Big match tomorrow, got a meeting with Warner Brothers. You?"

"Same. Only without the match and the Warner Brothers."

She sat up, propped her arm on the back of the couch. "Did you say Warner Brothers?"

"Yep. We're talking a TV series. Nothing final yet, but is sounds good."

"Spike, that's wonderful. I'm really pleased for you."

"Ahh, we'll see."

"Don't be so modest."

He was a funny mixture. The hair? So typical of him. Went with the cheekbones, the blue eyes, the cheeky grin. The swagger, the sharp talk. But what you saw wasn't what you got with this one, no way. There was another Spike in there somewhere. Someone who was too generous and kind for his own good. Someone who remembered to buy candy bars for little girls when her own dad never did. Someone who probably helped old ladies across the road.

And someone who saved lives. Like hers.

"Want me to look at that computer, then?"

A small nod was all she could manage. Hated the early stages of pregnancy. How could something so small make you feel so tired? Couple that with the worry of actually being pregnant when it was the worst possible time in the history of the universe to be, and there was no energy left for anything else but wondering why she kept on making the same mistake time after time. Why she kept on letting Angel in. Kept on believing the lies.

Why, when there were good men in the world, she only ever managed to pick the bad ones.

She watched Spike take a swig of his coffee, take off his jacket and throw it across a chair. Roll up his shirt sleeves, settle himself in front of the computer.

He was nice, very nice. And she could be interested. He was, that was obvious enough, but there just wasn't enough energy to think about stuff like that. When it was Spike doing all the running, helping with the bills, being nice about the rent, buying presents for Dawn, taking down the trash, bringing up the mail, she could just about cope. But anything else, and she only had to say the word, meant having to comb her hair and go places and listen to his problems. And get dressed and talk to people.

And that all required effort. And for that she'd need energy. Which she didn't have. There was nothing to spare for anyone except Dawnie right now, and she got precious little in the way of mothering. Little wonder she was all over Spike all the time.

She closed her eyes to shut out the sight of Dawnie going ape over her Barney video, wishing she could shut out the sound as well, but knowing Dawnie would have a blue fit if she switched it off. Didn't anyone realise the damage that this purple dinosaur did to people's nerves?

Closed her eyes to shut out the sight of Spike working so earnestly and intently at her computer. Made her feel less guilty if she didn't watch him. Made her feel less like she was using him.

He always had so much energy, it made her tired to just look at him sometimes. Always ran up the stairs, always the big grin. He had enough for the both of them, so she could just lie here and not be anything for a while, because while Spike was here, just for a little while, she could pretend that everything was okay.


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"Hey, I've cracked it."

Spike leaned back in his chair, stretched out, looked at his watch. Six o' clock. God, that'd been a job and a half.

"Want me to do these updates?"

They were both asleep. Niblet face down on the carpet, Buffy still as he'd left her in the chair. Telly crackling. He got up, switched it off, scooped up the Niblet Noticed Buffy stirring.

"Hey." He spoke softly, not wanting to wake Dawnie. "Shall I take her through?"

Buffy nodded, slightly bemused, looking around as if she'd forgotten where she was. "Do you want me to…"

"No, stay there, I've got her." He motioned her down. "You can sort her later, yeah?"

She pushed her hair back from her face, nodded to him and dropped back down.

"Thanks Spike. Don't know what I'd do without you."

"No prob, love."

When he came back she was sitting at the computer, hair behind her ears, looking as perky as he'd seen her in a long time. She turned and flashed him another smile. Must be his lucky day. He walked over and stood behind her, elbow on the back of the chair, leaning down so his face was level with hers.

"There's a new chapter of Random Hearts."

"Yeah, I saw. Thanks Spike, I hate leaving the site neglected like this. Did you read it?"

"Yeah, I read it, you'll never believe what happened."

"Wow, look at all these mails."

"You're a popular lady."

"They want their updates."

"Well, I guess people kinda get addicted to this sort of thing. It's not your fault if you can't do it. Don't worry about it. Get up, I'll do the updates, you fix us something to eat, yeah?"

She turned back to the computer, stared fixedly at the screen.

"Not hungry."

Her skin looked almost transparent this close up. Had a blue tinge, she was so white. Dammit, this was California, how could you get so white in California? Pale didn't come into it. He guessed the fridge was empty.

"I'll phone for a pizza, yeah?"

"Not hungry, Spike."

"Well, I am." It was always like this. Bloody website, only thing that kept her going, apart from Dawn. Computer wasn't going to last long though, didn't have the heart to tell her. And she couldn't afford a new one, that was for sure.

Thin shoulders, way too thin. If anyone needed pizza, she did. He got out his phone and dialled the number.

"Got a nice bottle of wine, shall I fetch?" He pulled up a chair, waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Earth calling Buffy."

"Dammit." She closed her eyes. Opened them. Glared at the screen then banged both hands down hard on the keyboard. "Why won't it work?"

She pushed him away as he leaned over.

"No, Spike. You won't always be here, taking care of stuff for me. I gotta be able to do this."

More emotion. Anger, but at least she was feeling something. You need to feel, or you stop altogether.

He watched her beat the keyboard for a few more moments, until he began to fear for its life, then he circled her wrists with his hands and held on. Too thin here too, held her gently in case she snapped. She felt brittle, as if she'd shatter at the slightest pressure.

"No, I can't always be here, but I'm here now, let me help. Or better still, leave it. Updates can wait."

Cheeks nice and pink now, suited her, anger did. Better than the cool blue of her despair.

"Are you kidding? Did you read those mails?"

"Oh soddit."

He let go of one hand and before she could stop, him he'd pulled the plug.

Those bloody eyes again. Enormous. Incredulous. You could drown in there just like the poets said.

"You killed my computer."

"Mercy killing."

She laughed. Long and hard. Started him off. Tears pouring down her face as she pointed in turn at him and the computer.

He laughed with her, not quite sure what the joke was, but needing to join in. Let her know that there were some things left to laugh at. Even if it was your own misfortune.

She calmed down at last, covered her eyes for a moment, then peeked through her fingers.

"You're crazy, Spike. Look at your hair."

"And you're mad." He circled her wrist again, drew her out of the chair. Steered her back to the sofa.

It felt like a dance. In his mind it was.

"Look at you. Like some bloody tragic Shakesperean heroine. What's with the ratty robe?"

"Full of compliments, aren't we?"

She looked at him sideways, pulling the robe to her. Not angry exactly, something he couldn't define. She did that sometimes. He guessed when she needed to get control of things. A little look that made his heart flip, then she'd turn away, knowing that he'd be right there behind her.

"Shall I get the wine?"

"Told you I'm not hungry, Spike."

"Sorry love, you're eating if I have to feed it you."

She flopped back down on the sofa, lifted her hair, let it drop. Gave him that look again.

"God, you sound like my mom."

"Someone bloody has to."

He picked up his jacket, searched the pocket. Took out twenty dollars. Dropped it in her lap.

"Pay the pizza boy. I'll go get that wine."

Please note that as the italics get lost in the upload I've starred all the e mail messages in this chapter.


Chapter 2

"Like the hat, Mrs. G. New?"

"Do you Spike? Doesn't make me look old, does it?"

"You, old? No way. So, you celebrating or something?"

"Why?"

"The hat."

She raised a hand to her head, a look of surprise crossing her face.

"Do you like it?"

Spike frowned, touching her gently on the arm. "I already told you I do. Are you okay?"

She gave him a bright smile, too bright. Turning her head away.

"Cost me fifty dollars."

"And?"

She wasn't okay. Wasn't looking at him either. He ducked down so he could see her face.

"I'm a silly old woman, Spike."

"Come on, let's get you inside."

He'd never noticed it before. How old she really was. Slow shuffling walk, paper thin skin, the years etched on her face. They told him she was old, but it was the apartment that smelt of years gone by. The faded photos. The paraphernalia of a life's worth of memories. Even the air seemed to be charged with it. The feeling that this was a life that had been lived and was slowly winding down.

They were what really told him.

He helped her into a chair, turned as the door opened and a little body burst in.

"Aunty G!"

"Dawn. Sweetheart, come here."

She held out her arms as Dawn ran to her. Wriggling onto her lap. Pulling at the hat.

"Can I have it?"

"Sure you can, sweetie."

Mrs. G took off the hat and placed it on Dawn's head, laughing as it slipped down.

Spike turned as Buffy peered round the door. She looked rattled, as if she was having her usual kind of day.

"Dawnie, what did I tell you about running off? Oh, hi Spike."

She shot him a concerned look, nodded towards Mrs. G playing peek a boo with Dawn.

He shrugged his shoulders, shook his head. Watched helplessly as Buffy went over to her and knelt down by the chair. Mrs. G brightened a little more, reaching out her hand and covering Buffy's.

It was a striking picture. If he'd been an artist he'd have painted them just like that. Three generations. One worn down by time, one by care and one still all bouncy and chipper. A contrast of pale skin against weathered brown. Eyes that had seen everything and eyes that had seen too much. Three people on the path of life, all at different points, but somehow connecting.

The writer in him took over as he watched them. Mrs. G assuring them she was okay. Buffy forgetting her own problems for a while as she focused on her. Dawnie just being happy in the hat.

He needed to get it down. Record the moment or he was going to forget. Wanted Buffy to see it. See how she could draw strength just by reaching out and touching others. See how concern for Mrs. G softened her features and how beautiful kindness made her. See how much love she still had inside, even though she felt empty.

"Put the kettle on, Spike."

He did, feeling a little left out, but trusting that Buffy would get it right. Wondering what had possessed Mrs. G to buy a hat.

Dawnie ran over to him, colliding with his legs in a hug that nearly brought him down. He had to wear the hat because everyone had to wear it, mommy too. So he did as he was told, putting it on, making them all laugh. Pulling a funny face.

And Mrs. G was glowing now, radiating a strange kind of happiness that he'd never seen before. The kind of peacefulness that comes not just because everything is right with the world, but the kind you get when you're satisfied, content. The kind you get when you're at the end of something you feel you've done well.

And there was Buffy in the hat.

Where had all the air gone? Because suddenly he couldn't breath.

She did a twirl while Dawn danced with delight, and just for a moment he thought he saw the person she used to be, before real life had happened.

And, as their eyes met, she let him see it. Cocked her head and bobbed him a curtsey. Wriggled her hips, and gave him those come hither eyes. She was Nell Gwynn tempting him with a basket of oranges. A dangerously enigmatic Mata Hari. Greta Garbo, Marilyn Monroe.

Only she didn't know it. Didn't know she still had all this inside her.

And he, a man of words, was dumbstruck. Like a farm boy come to the big city for the first time all he could do was gaze at the wonder of it all.

"Isn't she lovely?"

Mrs. G beamed approvingly, benevolently as if she were giving Buffy permission to be lovely.

The hat came off, the shutters down. The body language that said no, I'm not. As if she'd suddenly realised that she was being happy when she didn't think she deserved to be.

Mrs. G took her by the hand, squeezing it between both of hers, holding her captive when she would have bolted. Doing what Spike couldn't do, because coming from him it would have been just another man telling her what to do.

"Yes you are, Buffy. You've just forgotten it for now. Try and find it again sweetheart."

The kettle boiled. Broke the awkward moment and they all had tea. Mrs. G told them she'd wear the hat to church and not to worry, she could afford to spend fifty dollars on something as trivial as that, because when did she ever spend money these days? Then Dawn got bored and started pestering, so Buffy gathered her up and Spike stood too. They said their goodbyes, satisfied themselves that Mrs. G wasn't going to have a sudden attack of buyer's regret. Even managed another laugh as she put the hat on again, at Dawn's insistence, then pretended to be the queen of England as she waved them off.

It had happened slowly, without him noticing. He couldn't pinpoint the moment when they'd become family rather than tenants. Yes, he fancied Buffy and he wanted her on a variety of levels, but there was more to it than that. He wasn't just the landlord anymore. He was the one who looked after them all, the buffer between them and the outside world. Somewhere along the line they'd all crept under his wing and he'd become St. George fighting off their dragons.

And now he couldn't not be because they all depended on him, trusted him. Looked to him hopefully when it all got too much. And because he could afford to be generous, he was.

As he saw Buffy and Dawn back to their apartment he had one of those rare moments when he felt happily in tune with things for no real reason he could define. For the first time since Buffy had moved in, he felt as if they were walking in step. More as if he and Buffy were equals rather than a beautiful woman in need and a man who desired her. Maybe it was because they'd bonded in a different way over Mrs. G, or because he'd just seen a side of Buffy that had given him hope that she could get through this.

Either way, for the first time he felt as if he was helping her because he wanted to, not just because he wanted her.

He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, holding her lightly, his fingers gentle on her arms. She flicked him a glance as he stepped back, ruffling Dawn's hair.

"She likes you."

"Mrs. G. Yeah, she's nice. I'm a little worried about her though, what's with the hat?"

"Dunno, found her wandering around the hall wearing it. Do you think she has family?"

"Who knows. I'll call by tomorrow, see how she is. You coming in?"

"Naa, got some work to do. How's your computer?"

"Hanging in there. Might write another chapter of Chaos, haven't posted anything for ages."

It was an effort to step back, but he did. It wasn't that he wanted her to chase him for a change. Or did he? No it wasn't that. Maybe he'd been coming on a bit too strong lately, doing everything for her, things she should be trying to do herself? Maybe he was making her helpless? Maybe she was just taking him for a sucker? Who knew? But at that moment it felt important to back off a little.

And strangely enough, as he backed away, she stepped forward. He gave her space, and she moved into it. Her hand on his arm, now. Not as light as his had been on hers, but holding him in place as if she was telling him he couldn't leave until she said he could. But maybe it wasn't that either.

Her face said it. Eyes just a bit too wide, and she'd moved just that bit too quickly to make him believe she'd had to think about it. Almost as if she'd panicked.

He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. Those eyes, and that look. Made him feel like bloody superman. Take on the whole world, he would, if she wanted him to.

"I'm just here love, if you need me. Anytime, you know that?"

She nodded and let go of his arm. Wrapped her arms around herself instead. Blew out a breath, half turned to go. "I know, Spike, I know."

She opened the door, Dawn squeezing through ahead of her, then she paused, almost as if she wanted to say something else. She even opened her mouth and he found himself leaning forward to try and catch the words, but nothing came out.

So he spoke instead.

Words from the heart because he felt bad for not going in. Because he felt like that old cliché, cruel to be kind. And he did feel cruel right now, to both of them. Knew he was taking a risk. Knew how fast he'd be across that hallway if those tears that were threatening actually fell. Took hold of his door handle to anchor himself in place, remind him that he needed to go home. That she wasn't his. And that in all the time he'd known her she'd never really given him any indication that she was interested in anything other than him just being someone who did stuff for her.

"It's gonna be okay, Buff. You'll get through this, 'cos you're strong."

She turned and leaned her forehead on the corner of the door. "Am I?"

"Yes you are, Buffy. Like Mrs. G said. You've just forgotten it, that's all."


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There was a special kind of guilt reserved just for her.

She hadn't wanted this baby. Not just because of the continuing link it would give her to Angel, but also because what the hell was she going to do with another baby?

How was she going to cope? All her accounts were empty and there weren't any reserves. Not enough money, not enough energy, not enough love.

It was like someone's idea of a big joke. Poetic irony. What else can we do to make Buffy's life more miserable than it is? Hey, let's make her fall in love with a loser. College? What for? He'll sort everything. Didn't he say he would?

Take you away from your drunken dad. That's what he said, but you know what? Someone had written a proverb especially for her too. Out of the frying pan into the fire.

Frying pan, fire, frying pan, fire. And so it went on, until hey, let's make her pregnant again.

She stared at the brown stain on the toilet paper and wondered if she still was.

Hard to know what to feel. Like she'd thought. A special kind of guilt that made you feel happy and sad at the same time. Like dropping something from the top of a very tall building and the moment you let go, you want it back. Relief all tangled up with an unbearable aching. Hello and goodbye.

Suddenly it was a baby. Not just an inconvenience sent to make her even more tired. Something else to spend the money she didn't have on. Something to drain her even further.

It was a small, soft weight that wriggled and squirmed, cried and fretted, then slept so peacefully that you had to check that it was still alive.

It was a brother or sister for Dawnie.

It was something that, while it depended on you, loved you unconditionally.

And it knew she didn't want it. So it was leaving her.

And could there be anything more confusing than this? It was out of her hands, but she couldn't help feeling that somehow she was responsible. That by thinking, it had become so. Can you really wish something away?

No, she hadn't wanted this baby, so it hadn't wanted her.

She flushed the toilet, knowing she needn't panic yet. She'd bled in the early stages with Dawn, it happened sometimes with no harm to the baby. Looked like fate was going to sort this one for her and she'd let it. So she went into the living room and sat herself at the computer. See how things were in an hour. No need to panic yet.

Do the updates and another chapter of Chaos. Now there was a title especially for her. That's why she'd chosen it of course. Sometimes it helped to put things into words, sort it all out in somebody else's life. But did her heroine go or did she stay? On the show she'd left and the hero had sacrificed himself to save the world, but if the producers thought they were getting away with that, they had to be living in an alternative universe.

She clicked to e-mail and scrolled through the submissions. Five tonight. Five people who thought no way was she walking away from him. They were meant to be together and they damned well would be.

She should go to the emergency room. Call Spike and get him to take her.

Just tag these chapters first, see what happens. No need to panic yet.

She clicked new message and wrote.



*Hi, Goldie. You online? Up for some tagging? Chat? hugs, Rap. *


Okay, first story. Yay, Random Hearts. How does she update so fast? Gotta story to tell, this one. Do it first because they'll be waiting for it.


New message.


*Hi Rapunzel, how'r ya doing in that tower of yours? Send me a couple of chapters. Did you get mine? G:-)) *

*Got it, updating now. Still waiting for my prince btw. Think he's got lost or something? Hugs Rapunzel *

Send.



She settled down. Read first, then tag. Smiled as the hero and heroine got it on at last. Way to go with the UST Goldie. Master at it, she was. Six chapters and they still hadn't done it. But it looked like tonight was the night.



New message.

*Maybe he's where you least expect? G:-)) *

*Yeah, gonna sweep me off my feet any day now. Hugs, Rapunzel *

Send.



Slight twinge. Bit like a period cramp. Still nothing to worry about, she'd had this with Dawn too. Okay, wow, hot, hot, hot. Nothing like fanfic sex to get the motor revving. Pity her tank had no gas in it. Running on empty right now.

And this was nothing like fanfic sex. God, you're good, Goldie.

Hit review.



New message.

*Maybe you only have to say the word? G:-))*

*And what word would that be?LOL hugs Rapunzel *

Send.



She blew out a long breath, hand on the small of her back. Coffee that's what she needed. These all-nighters were killing her, but they were better than the bad dreams.

She got up, looked in on Dawn sleeping the sleep of the innocent and the good, then she went to the bathroom. Still the same.

Not panicking, not hoping. Just let it be. What could the doctors do? What did she want them to do?

Back at the computer. Click, tag, click, tag, god this was boring.



New message.

*Yes. G:-)) *

*Yes what? Hugs Rapunzel*

Send.



Angel had called. Sounded good today. Contrite, sorry. That sexy voice, deep and persuasive. Reminding her why she'd abandoned everything and come to the other side of the country to be with him. Married him in Vegas on a whim. Married in haste, regret at leisure. Best sex they'd both ever had. That's why he kept coming back. Only she couldn't do it any more.

That crazy little thing called love just wasn't there any more. Had it ever been?



New message.

*Just say yes. G:-))*

*Not that easy sweetie, Gotta find him first. Angel called. Hugs Rapunzel *

Send.


N
ext story, another twinge. Okay, a little panic now. Just a fleeting one. Don't start wanting this baby, not if this is going to happen. Why do you start wanting something the minute you can't have it? Get up, walk around a bit. No, that'll make it worse. Finish the updates, then lie down for a bit.

She leaned back in her chair, looked out the window. A few chinks of light against the darkness. A few other souls like her, isolated and alone. Sometimes, at this time of the morning she felt like the only person left alive in the whole world.

Back to the computer.



New message.

*Just open your eyes and look. What did he say? G:-)) *

*He cried. Goldie, I'm pregnant. Hugs Rapunzel *

Send.




Okay, lie on the sofa for a while. Feet up, gotta do something. Could you forgive yourself if you didn't at least try? Make a token effort. Updates first, then go lie down.

No new messages.

God, this one was dire. Go getta beta, already. Probably another of those write- two chapters- then- abandon, kind of stories. Make her set up the file, do all the work then never hear from them again.

Updates finished then on to Chaos. No problem with the sex in this one. They'd been doing it since chapter one. Couldn't keep their hands off each other.

No new messages.

Have another panic first. Slightly longer one this time. Not a trip to the emergency room, please. Not more bills. What would she do with Dawn if she had to go into hospital?

Okay, definitely lie down.



New message.

*How ? When? You okay? G:-)) *

*The usual way LOL. God, I'm such a jerk to believe him all the time. He said he was going to change, same old story. Trouble is the sex is good. But it's not enough is it? Talk to you soon. Rapunzel *

Send.



Sex on the boat. They haven't done it there yet. No wait, that was chapter 26. In the tent then. Had anyone done fanfic sex in a tent yet? Couldn't remember seeing it.

Just go to the bathroom again. Need to check it out. Doesn't hurt to check.



New Message.

*You sure you're okay? G:-))*

*Don't know. Not feeling too good. Probably nothing. Nice job with the chapter - writing from experience? ;) Rapunzel *

Send.



Back to the virtual sex. Best way really, didn't get you into messes like these. The cramping was still there, not too painful, just enough to let her know. Almost as if whoever was in charge of this hadn't decided what to do yet. Whether to be born now, or to wait.

She wondered if there was a little soul out there, hovering, watching, assessing her. She didn't blame it if it was. Who would voluntarily come into this, if they had any choice in it? Maybe it was being kind. Maybe it had seen that she wouldn't cope and it was waiting. Maybe later, maybe another time. Maybe not at all.

Too many maybes. There wasn't any logic in this, probably not even a reason. She should be glad that she was being let off the hook.

Then why wasn't she?



New Message.

*Hi Rap, Mile-high club? Me? ROTFLMAO I wish. How don't you feel well? Is it the baby? Sounds like you need a hug G:-))*

*Hi Goldie, Maybe. Too soon to panic. I didn't want it. Thanks for the hug. Rapunzel. *

Send.




She turned her attention to the screen, heart sinking as it started flicking to a ghastly yellow that told her it was going to die any minute now. A good thump, that's what it needed. Save first. Don't want to lose all this work. She saved, thumped, it came back so she breathed again.



Three new messages.

First New Message

*Hi Rapunzel, just wanted to let you know I loved your latest chapter and I've been waiting and waiting for updates. Oh the agony of a WIP. Get writing. Luv, Beni *

Next New Message

*Can't understand why you bother with this. Just a load of pointless sex. Go do a proper job or something. Abc*

Delete. Don't need this shit right now.

Next New Message

*Hi Rapunzel, What do you mean didn't? As in you do now? Concerned - G:-)) *

Create mail.

*Thanks Beni, writing now, loads of pointless sex, but what the hell. Nice to hear from you, Rapunzel:-)) *

Send. Click.

Create mail.

*Hey Goldie, Yeah , suddenly it's a baby. Suddenly it's real. Weird how that happens. Like I need a baby? Sick joke. Just really confused, you okay to talk about this? Touched by your concern - Rapunzel:-)) *

Send.



Pointless sex? She sat back, covered her eyes with her hand and blew out a long breath. Yeah, why the hell did she bother? Ungrateful bastard, why did they bother reading if they didn't like it? Did they have any idea of the hoops she jumped through to bring them all this?

Ow, that hurt. Her hand went to the small of her back again, rubbing and breathing it away. Back to the bathroom. Not good.



New message.

*Hey Rapunzel, Think you maybe need to do more than talk, love. Go call your sexy landlord.. He said he'd be there for you, right? G:-)) *

*Goldie, will you quit calling him that,LOL, he reads my mail! And you've never met him so how would you know? Just want to talk right now, yeah? hugs, Rapunzel *

Send.



Hot chocolate, that's what she needed. Didn't chocolate cure all life's problems? She made herself one but couldn't drink it. Poured it down the sink because the smell was making her feel sick.



New Message.

*Rapunzel, You've described him in enough detail that I can use my very vivid imagination. Go call him already. You shouldn't be alone right now. G:-)) *

*Thanks Goldie but I'll wait it out. Don't think there's anything the doctors can do anyway. Spike'll be asleep and then there's Dawn. Hell, I just want it to all go away. I don't want to do any of this any more. Ya know what I mean? I'd like to close my eyes and when I open them everything will be just perfect. Trouble is, if I close them now, I won't want to open them again. God, I'm a mess. Sorry about this Goldie. You sure you want to listen to this crap? I'm thinking knights on white chargers would be good about now. If you see one send him my way. bye for now Rapunzel *

Send



Elbows on the table, she leaned her head in her hands. A few tears now. The kind of tears that when you start you can't stop. So don't start. Don't start.

Small tap at the door. Who the hell? Again, and a voice whispering her name.

"Buffy, you there?"

She lifted her tearstained face to the door. "Spike?"

"Yeah, it's me. Open the door."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, pulled her robe closed. All he ever seemed to see her in was this. Walked over to the door, slid back the bolts. Turned the key.

His face. Frowning. Full of concern. She opened the door wide.

"Spike, what are you doing up?"

He walked in, took her by the upper arms and looked down into her face. Looked as if he was searching for something.

She stared back. Three in the morning. What was he doing here in her apartment at three in the morning?

He let go, stepped back. Nodded towards the bedroom.

"I was on the internet. Go get Dawn. I'll drive you to the hospital."

"The internet?" She looked puzzled for a moment, frowning as she tried to make the connection. "What, spying on me?"

"No." He stepped away, a hand running through his hair, avoiding her now. "Oh hell."

"What then, hacking my computer?" She followed him as he turned from her, forcing eye contact. "How did you know about the baby?"

"Bloody hell."

He looked at her then, his eyes holding a mixture of panic and something else. Embarrassment? Shame? She couldn't quite work it out.

"I know about the baby because you just told me."

A couple of heartbeats to work that one out. "You're Goldie?"

"That's me."

"You wrote Random Hearts?"

"Oh god, Buffy. I'm sorry about the deception. I was only trying to help."

She moved to the couch. Sat down, almost in a daze.

He went too, sat beside her looking scared to death.

"Say you forgive me and let me take you to the hospital. Talk to me Buffy."

He said that because she had her head down. Thinking about what she'd just found out. The most unlikely of things from this man, who never failed to surprise her.

"Will you? Forgive me?"

She felt his finger under her chin. The lightest of touches, as if he was afraid he'd broken anything they'd ever had between them and he didn't have the right to do this any more.

She lifted her head, the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. A smile that got broader as she thought about his guilty little secret.

There he was. Black tee shirt, jeans ripped at the knee, combat boots. Hair all spiky and sticky with gel. The author of some of the scariest horror novels on the market.

And still she couldn't believe it. She lifted her hand and stroked his cheek as his expression turned from pleading to puzzled. As he cocked his head and leaned into the caress.

They sat like that for a long while as she looked at him. Really looked at him. Like she was seeing him for the first time. Seeing everything that he was. As if it had taken her this long just to open her eyes. As if somewhere back in her childhood she'd gone to sleep and forgotten to wake up. Like a sleepwalker suddenly realising where they are.

And he sat very still and let her hold him.

She didn't just hold him in her hand at that moment. She held everything, because now she really knew. Spike, Goldie and Random Hearts, they all merged into one.

Into the promise of a future. And disbelief turned into belief.

All hard and sharp on the outside. World's biggest softie in the middle.

He nodded. The slightest of movements.

Just say yes. All she had to do was say yes. All she had to do was start to live again.

The smile was still there, but this time it was just for him, because now she had something to give back.

She dropped her hand and pulled her feet up under her. Wriggled herself comfortable, then looked at him again. He still hadn't moved.

"I'd like to wait it out for a few hours. See how things go. I think I already know, but I don't want to go to the hospital in the dark."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She tucked her robe around her, aware that he was following every movement. Watching her very carefully.

"Don't worry, Spike. I won't do anything stupid. Got you here, haven't I?"

"You've always got me, love. But you know that, don't you?"

She took his hand then. Giving him what he'd wanted for so long. The slightest pressure, pulling him towards her. His arm around her back. Her head on his chest.

Just open your eyes and look.

Her arm around his waist. Shifting, accommodating, adjusting. Sighing and relaxing.

Taking that first step. A small one on a long road. But the most important.

She gave him a squeeze and she spoke from the heart too.

"I know, Spike. I know."

tbc.

Chapter 3

"You look nice dear. How are you?"

"Much better Mrs. G. What's that?"

"Oh this?" Mrs. G held up the freshly laundered shirt and frowned at it for a moment, then her face lit up.

"It's for Jack, he likes them ironed just so. Have you seen him?"

Buffy sighed and put down her shopping bags. She didn't need this right now. Looking after batty old ladies wasn't exactly what she'd had planned, but how could she leave her wandering around the hallway like this?

"Come on." She scooped Mrs G. around the shoulders and led her back into her apartment. Sat her down, took the shirt and hung it on the door. Crouched down and folded her into another hug. She felt like a bag of bones, nothing to her at all. Like she'd used up every ounce of everything she had just getting this far.

"I'm worried about you, Mrs. G. Do you have any family? Someone we can call?"

Mrs. G's hand was on hers now, surprisingly soft. Buffy stroked the velvety skin, wondering what it would feel like to be so old. To have so many memories. Wondered if there'd be someone who would do this for her if she got to be this old. Wondered how she was going to tell Mrs. G yet again, that Jack was dead.

Mrs. G looked at her, then at the door, then back at her.

"What is it, Buffy?"

"It's Jack, Mrs. G." Hell, she hated this. Every time they told her it was like she was hearing it for the first time.

And Buffy felt really selfish for not wanting to do this. For not wanting to be here. She would much rather be upstairs with Spike. Had a bit of a surprise for him tonight. And not just what was in the grocery bags.

But Mrs. G needed to know where Jack was. So she told her, as gently as she could because she didn't want to lie.

And Mrs G looked a little shocked and she cried a few tears. Then she got up and took down the shirt. Buffy watched as she folded it very carefully, fingering the material lovingly.

"He filled my world, Buffy." She opened the bureau drawer and tucked the shirt inside. "And I can still feel him. Does that sound stupid?"

Buffy settled her back into the chair. "No of course not, Mrs. G. I'll put the kettle on."

Buffy made the tea while Mrs. G sat and stared. Looking at something that Buffy couldn't see. And every time she went away like this, it seemed that less of her came back.

She took the tea with a shaking hand and managed a sad smile.

"He was killed on his motorbike. Went out to work one day and never came back."

"I'm so sorry."

Mrs. G's hand came out once more, as if she needed to anchor herself and Buffy took it in hers.

"But you kissed him goodbye that day, didn't you?" She'd heard this story before, knew how it ended. Knew how important it was for Mrs. G to keep on telling it. It was her way of keeping Jack alive.

"I did, Buffy. But it's hope, you see. I've never stopped hoping that he'll come back."

"But you know he won't?"

"I do." Mrs G picked up her tea and stared into the cup. "You just can't help hoping though, can you?"

"That's true." Buffy nodded.

Hope. It had crept into her life so quietly that she hadn't even noticed it was there. Until one day when the world suddenly had colour in it. The stairs didn't seem as steep. She'd gone out and got herself a job. A haircut.

And Buffy remembered the exact moment when things had changed. Really changed, deep inside her. It wasn't the night she'd found out that Spike was Goldie, or when she'd lost the baby, or decided to tackle that mess in the apartment at last. Or when she'd read that sign on the bar window advertising for staff and walked in and got herself a job. Yes they were all big steps for her, and definitely steps in the right direction.

Somehow, despite all these life changing events, she'd still felt like the old Buffy was lurking inside, ready to drag her back. She still didn't believe.

Until the night she'd sat with Dawn and read one of her favourite stories to her. The Little Engine that Could. And Dawn had turned to her and simply said, "Do you think you can, Mommy?" And she'd answered her truthfully and said "No, I don't, and that's my problem." And Dawn had laughed and turned the page and urged her to read on.

Sometimes things were so simple that you didn't even see them. What was it Spike had said? Just open your eyes and look.

"Is there anyone I can call for you, family, friend?"

Mrs. G shook her head. "Don't have many friends left at my age." A small laugh at that. "Always wanted children, but it wasn't to be. I'm thinking of going back to England. Finish my days where I started."

"England? I didn't know you were English."

A small nod from Mrs. G. Almost as if she'd only just remembered it herself.

"We'll miss you." Buffy had a heck of a lump forming in her throat now. This circle of life stuff always got to her. She still cried like a baby at the end of The Lion King.

"I'll miss you all too."

They sat in companionable silence for a while because that's all Mrs. G wanted really. Just another human being to share some space, and some time with her. Someone to listen. She just needed to say Jack's name out loud every now and again, and Buffy understood that. It wasn't a lot to ask and she felt ashamed of her earlier, selfish thoughts. Spike had done this for her. Sat with her, fixed her computer, fed her. Maybe she hadn't really appreciated it at the time. But she wouldn't have survived without it.

He'd been there keeping her head above water, letting go bit by bit until she could swim for herself. And now that she had a little strength to spare, she could do it for someone else.

"He's a sweetheart, isn't he?"

"Who?" Buffy finished her tea but stayed where she was. Letting Mrs. G decide when she should leave. One thing she was learning. If you were going to be there for someone, you really had to be there.

"Spike. He's very good to you and Dawn, isn't he?"

"He is. Probably the kindest man I've ever met."

"Then hang on to him with everything you have. Kindness is a gift. Don't let him go."

Buffy turned away, blushing a little. After all she and Spike had been through together she honestly hadn't thought that far ahead. She'd been too busy enjoying the here and now of their relationship to give much thought to the future. And holding on to him implied a future together.

She gave a little laugh in response, but Mrs. G wasn't having any of it.

"With both hands, Buffy. Hold on and never let go. You won't find it again. I was a war-bride, you know."

"Were you?" Buffy breathed again, Glad of the change of subject. The thought of a future with Spike had made her heart go galloping off a mile a minute, and she was suddenly feeling a little spacey. Probably because she hadn't eaten, but Mrs. G had made it sound so urgent. So important.

"Met Jack during the war. Small village on the south coast of England. He was an airman." She paused a moment to relive the memory and then she seemed to remember that Buffy was still there. "I crossed an ocean to be with him. Knew a good thing when I saw one."

"That's so romantic, I had no idea."

Funny how you could look at people and not have a clue who they really were, or what they'd been. Unless you took the time and trouble to get to know, or to ask, or to listen.

"Spike will be waiting for you, I guess. Go be with him, sweetie. And remember what I said."

"I will, Mrs G." Buffy stood and took her cup to the sink. "You got something to eat for tonight?"

"I'll be fine. Off you go." The old lady stood too and smoothed out her skirt. "I'm feeling better now, thank you for being here. I do appreciate it, you know. And I know Jack's gone. I just forget, sometimes."

"Oh, Mrs. G." Buffy hugged her again, more because she needed it herself this time. It was a nice feeling, this being able to do something for someone else. She'd lost herself for a while, but bit by bit the path was becoming clearer again. That little spark of hope was growing and spreading.

"You have my number." She stepped back and looked at the old woman, making sure she was listening. "You call me anytime you need me, and if I'm not there, then you call Spike. You hear me. We care about you and you're not alone."

Mrs G nodded and walked her to the door. Her strange mood seemed to have lifted for now. "I'm glad you remembered who you were, Buffy. Off you go, I'm good."

Buffy picked up her shopping, and climbed the stairs. Unlocked her door and dumped the bags inside. Took a quick look in the mirror. It still surprised her that it was no longer the Bride of Frankenstein looking back at her. It wasn't just the haircut and the make-up either. The difference came from somewhere deep inside and shone through all that. Slowly, the real Buffy was emerging again, and she meant to keep her.

Pulling her door closed, she crossed the landing to Spike's apartment, knocked, opened the door and peeked round. He was sitting at his computer, typing away. Probably something horribly gory. She had no idea how someone so kind and gentle could write the stuff he did. She didn't really like it and he was cool with that. She'd told him straight out that she preferred his Random Hearts writing persona and he still blushed like a girl when she mentioned that.

And just lately when she looked at him, she'd started to go all tingly inside. He actually made her tremble with anticipation as he leaned back in his chair and flashed her a grin. She looked around for Dawn and he flicked his head at the bedroom.

"She crashed, so I stuck her in bed. How was the shift?"

"Okay. Come here, Spike."

He came, like he always did, this time a slightly puzzled look on his face. Possibly in response to the intensity in her voice. She hadn't meant it to come out like that, but it was part of what she was feeling right now. And she needed to tell him something.

"What's this then?" He leaned down to look into her face, brows a little furrowed as he tried to make out her mood.

She let him look. Hoping he could see what she wanted him to see. Then she hooked her arms around his neck, went up on tiptoe and she kissed him.

He helped her, sliding his hands around her back. Lifting her up and pressing her against him. Pausing only slightly before responding to her heated caress with one equally as hot.

She was aiming for slow and sensual, at least that's how she'd planned it. Wanted to let him know how she felt, just then. Even though she hadn't quite worked out exactly what it was.

Love? Is this what love felt like?

It was a new feeling because she'd never loved anyone before. Not in this way. She'd thought it was love with Angel. But she knew now that she'd been more in love with what he represented than him. He'd been freedom. An escape. Something exciting and forbidden. A chance to be reckless. A good laugh. For a while anyway.

She'd thought it was love. But she'd been blind.

Concentrate Buffy. Mrs. G was right.

What had she said? Hang on with both hands.

Buffy did just that as she parted her lips a little more and drew him in. Her tongue making lazy circles around his as they settled into a rhythm that send pulses of sensation right through her body. And, inevitably, the heat started to burn.

It spiralled out of control so suddenly that she could do nothing but ride it out. Loving, needing, wanting, they were all tangled up together. And just at that moment she couldn't separate them.

His hands were clawing at her bottom as he backed her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist and everything kind of soared. It wasn't a subtle shift. Slow and sensual turned into hot and hard before she knew what was happening. But she'd wanted to tell him this too. So she did.

A few urgent moments of writhing, crushing, frantic giving and taking. Smothered moans. Reckless abandon and delicious breathlessness. Hands everywhere, pulling at clothes, tugging at hair.

Then one of them must have realised that they were just about to completely lose control and Dawn was asleep in the next room and might wake up at any moment.

She wasn't even sure which one of them pulled back first, but just as suddenly she was panting for breath and her heart was banging against her ribs. And she was sliding down his body, and he was stepping back and running his fingers through his hair. And they were giving each other sheepish looks and half turning away.

Quite possibly to hide the smirks that both of them were sporting and desperately trying to hide.

"That was nice."

He said it quietly, almost shyly as he tucked his tee shirt back into his jeans. Folding his arms around himself when he was done as if he needed to hold on in case he lost control again. The grin still tugged at the corner of his mouth as he spoke.

"Yeah." She tried to tame her own hair, pushing the tangled mess out of her eyes. Pulled down the skirt that was crumpled around the top of her thighs. Shot a glance at the bedroom. Took a deep breath.

"Spike."

"Yeah."

He dropped his arms, tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. The intensity in his gaze told her that he knew she was going to say something serious. And it was supposed to have been simple. But the way they'd gone from zero to ninety miles an hour in less than ten seconds had made it blatantly obvious that it wasn't going to be.

Loving, needing, wanting. She could have used the actual words, but she was a writer. And what did they say? Show, don't tell. So that's what she'd done.

Anyone could say the words, but they were just a whole lot of noise unless you were prepared to back them up.

"Did you get my message?" She continued to fiddle with her clothing as she spoke. Trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.

Her voice was low too, and not just because she was still trying to get her breathing under control. A little anxious now. How could you not be when you were laying yourself on the line like this?

Just like he'd been doing all this time.

She wriggled her bottom as she smoothed out the stretchy material of her skirt. Rubbed her palms over her thighs where it clung to her. Pulled down her top. Looked up to find him watching her intently. Following every movement.

And for a moment she thought he wasn't going to answer her. She froze in place as he closed the distance between them once more, then slowly straightened as he stopped in front of her.

His hands settled on her upper arms, the fingers closing around her. Slid upwards to her shoulders, his thumbs tracing along her collar bone. A ghost of a touch. His body swaying, taking her with him. Starting it all over again.

"The message," she whispered. "Did you get it?"

He continued with his stroking, watching his own hands now as they moved over her skin.

"Which one, pet?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was bound to have happened. This explosion had been a long time on the cards. Between them they'd built a time-bomb filled with pure UST, just primed to go off the minute she said so.

And hadn't she just said so?

But the storm had passed. For now. Just hands touching in the quiet aftermath as they swayed together.

"Well, there was this one." Her fingers making swirly patterns on his chest left him in no doubt as to what she was talking about.

"Yeah, think I got that one." He squirmed as she hit a ticklish spot. "Does that mean everything's okay?"

"Doctor said I was fine. That's good news, isn't it?"

"Sure is."

He leaned a little closer and breathed her in. "You smell nice. Remind me, what else was there?"

"The first part. Did you get that?"

He was so close that he could see the fine hairs on her skin. He liked being this close.

"Umm. Maybe you could tell me again?"

"Okay, but you gotta keep still. I'm doing the talking right now."

He stood obediently for her as her hands framed his face. Holding him in place for a light rain of kisses. His nose, his eyelids, his mouth, his cheek. Every part of his face got the same loving treatment. Her hands following her lips.

Loving? Is that what he was hearing? He already knew he loved her. Had done for a long time. But she hadn't said it yet. Is that what she was trying to say?

She pulled back. Looked at him expectantly. He nodded and so did she.

It would do. She'd say it eventually. He had no doubt of that. But this would do nicely, for now.

He looked at his watch. Three o' clock. Niblet wouldn't be asleep for much longer.
And Buffy needed to get her home.

"You working tonight?" The imprints of her kisses still tingled. Calling for more. His whole body wanted more. This wasn't something you could easily walk away from. Not when she made such promises.

"No, I'm cooking dinner for us. Been shopping."

"Me too."

They were still holding on. Bodies close, flush against each other. Voices pitched low. He could feel her breath on his neck as she spoke.

Strangely intimate for this time of day.

"Anything interesting?"

"It's for you, actually."

Her face lit up.

That was good. She was so damned difficult to buy presents for. Too proud to accept what she needed. Maybe a little too suspicious of his motives at first. It was probably going to make her mad though. Probably spoil this lovely mood they'd built since she came home. He took a deep breath and figured he just ought to say it. He'd done it now and heck, she could only kill him once.

"Bought you a Laptop yesterday. Well, part of one anyway. It's on layaway at the Computer Warehouse in town. All you've got to do is make the payments, and it's yours."

He waited. Tilted his chin to make it easier for her.

She frowned. "What are you doing, Spike?"

"Making it easy for you. Go on, you know you want to."

"Want to what?" She frowned and stepped back.

"Plant one on me. Right hook, just there." He pointed to his chin. "You've gotta be mad, right?"

She held up her hands, palms forward as he moved towards her again.

"I am. A little." She sucked in a deep breath and looked him squarely in the eye. "I'm hardly earning big bucks. It's just a lousy bar job, mostly tips anyway. How am I going to make the payments?"

"You're not going to hit me then?"

"Of course I'm not going to hit you. Spike, I can't afford a new computer."

"I'll help you then." He got his fingers to her lips before she could protest at that. "Let me do it. I want to, and it doesn't take anything away from you. And it's not because I want anything from you. I'm not trying to buy you. Say you'll accept it."

She left him hanging for a good few moments while his heart crawled its way up to his mouth. Left him wondering if he was ever going to get her to trust him completely.

Then she smiled.

"Thank you. It's the nicest thing that anyone's ever done for me."

His heart slid back to its proper place, and made an attempt at beating normally again.

"No, it's not. That'd be tonight."

She smiled at that too. A slow sexy one this time.

And he wasn't going to reach tonight at this rate because he was going to die of frustration right here in front of her if they didn't stop teasing each other like this.

"Yeah. That'd be tonight, Spike. Come over about seven and I'll get us something to eat. Then I'll show you my shopping."

"Sounds good. You going to give me a clue then?"

"D'you like steak?"

"Red blooded male here, so yeah."

"Strawberries?"

"Love 'em."

"Sexy underwear?"

"On the right person, definitely."

"Good."

He found himself rubbing at the front of his now, very tight jeans as she moved around him and headed for the bedroom to fetch Dawn.

She reappeared after a few moments with a drowsy bundle draped over her shoulder.

"You know she's never gonna sleep tonight. Not after a daytime nap."

"Heck, didn't think of that."

Dawn lifted her head. "Hi, Uncle Spike."

"Hey, Dawnie." He ruffled her hair and then inspiration struck. "Wanna go to the park with me? We could run around a lot. Get really tired."

Dawn was already wriggling. "Can I go, mommy?"

" 'Course you can sweetie. Only don't tire Uncle Spike out too much, will you."

Then she lifted her head and looked straight at him, even though she was still talking to Dawn.

"Gonna need him wide awake tonight. Really wide awake."

Chapter 4

Performance anxiety. This was a new one.

Spike took the wine-glass and settled back into the sofa. She looked gorgeous, as he knew she would. She'd been gorgeous before, in the ratty robe and tatty jeans she'd habitually worn, but dressed up like this she was nothing short of stunning.

And he could still feel the promises she'd made earlier as he adjusted his trousers, glad he'd opted for the chinos rather than jeans. The red wine slipped down too easily, too fast and she reached for the bottle and poured him another. Gave him a lovely view of her cleavage as she leaned over to fill his glass. Then she sat down beside him, took a sip of her own wine and smiled.

"You look great."

"You too."

She crossed her legs, drawing his attention to the barely there leather skirt that clung to the top of her thighs. To her sandal clad feet. And to the perfectly shaped length in between. She wasn't very tall but everything was just right. Beautifully in proportion.

His heart had done a back flip when she'd opened the door and he'd wanted to jump her right there and then. Finish what they'd started earlier. Only tonight was her night. She was setting the pace. And even if she hadn't said it, he'd have let her. It had to be her decision. The where, the when, possibly even the how.

"Nice top."

"D'you like it?" She gave her shoulders a wriggle, turned so he could see.

So he looked. A white lacy blouse, almost see-through so he couldn't fail to notice the black, silky bra she had on underneath. He held on to his glass with both hands as she sipped at her wine.

"Yeah, I like it. You're beautiful, Buffy." It was the first time he'd said it out loud. He stared into his glass. Spoke quietly and wondered if she'd go straight onto the defensive as she usually did. She'd come a long way in the past few weeks but she still found it hard to accept compliments.

"Am I?"

He looked at her then. "Yeah, bloody gorgeous."

"Do you really think so? You're not just saying that?" She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, then she turned back to him hitching her elbow across the back of the couch. "Because sometimes when I look in the mirror I just don't know who I'm seeing any more."

Spike put down his glass, shaking his head as he did so. "You're seeing who you really are, pet. And you're doing great, I'm proud of you."

She pushed back her hair, let out a breath. A small flash of the old Buffy. It happened every now and then. A little slip that told him how much she still needed him to be there like he always had. Told him that maybe she'd always need him in that way. God, he hoped so.

And just at that moment their relationship, in his mind anyway, took another of those leaps forward that almost left him as breathless as he'd been that afternoon. She needed him, she wanted him and she'd almost said she loved him. Before he'd just accepted it. Gone with it. Almost taken it for granted that once they'd started, each logical step would follow the other. Now, it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks that this was about to get very real.

You could be with people for days, months, years but one day something happened and you suddenly saw who they were with in a completely different way. She didn't exactly have a glowing light all around her but she might as well have. And where were the bloody angelic choirs? Shouldn't he be hearing those too?

If he'd ever felt the urge to go down on one knee and say something soppy and poetic involving gold rings and eternal promises, then he was feeling it now. Just at that moment he wanted to hold on to her and never let go. He wanted to put on a Tarzan costume and swing from the trees shouting at the top of his voice.

So he picked up his glass instead and had another drink. He'd tell her tonight. It was about time one of them said it. It was a tricky one though. When did he say it? Before, after? During? Now? He'd only ever said the L word once before, to someone else and that had been a whole lot easier than this. Possibly because he hadn't really meant it. And the lady in question had said it right back to him and she hadn't meant it, either. So it had been easy.

Honesty, that's what Buffy needed from him. He needed to trust his instincts on this. And heck, if she didn't want to hear it now, after all they'd been through, then she was never going to want to.

"Turning into psych 101 isn't it?" he said, reaching out to her.

"I'm sorry." She looked contrite. Put down her glass and started to get up, muttering about the steaks needing cooking, but he reached out and stopped her.

"The steaks can wait Buffy. I need to tell you something too."

She sat again, eyeing him cautiously, looking a little more self conscious now than she had been.

He needed to put that right first, so he took a deep breath, slid closer and let his hand drop to her thigh. He didn't move it. Just let it rest there lightly as he spoke.

She shifted slightly under his touch, her lips parted as she stared at his hand, almost as if she was willing it to move.

But just at that moment he had perfect control. The performance anxiety had gone and in its place was a feeling of wonderful clarity. He knew just what he wanted to say and exactly how to say it. A very small twinge of guilt that he was hijacking what was supposed to be her evening gave him pause, but he brushed the thought aside. If love-making was what she'd had planned for tonight then she needed to hear all this before they did it. Because he knew now that he didn't just want a mindless fuck from her. He wanted all of her there. This wasn't just an itch that needed scratching, it was a serious commitment and she needed to know that.

"D'you have any nice music, something slow?"

"Might have." She was running a finger over the back of his hand as it rested on her. Tickling him. Making his own fingers twitch. "We don't want to disturb Dawn though, it'll have to be very quiet."

"Quiet's good. Come on, I want to dance with you." He stood and offered her his hand, feeling ever so slightly tipsy from the wine he'd drunk. It didn't usually get him so fast, but a combination of not eating and possibly the whiskey that he'd had before coming over were starting to work on him, lending the evening a slightly surreal edge.

She let herself be pulled up and he followed her over to the stereo and looked over her shoulder as she leafed through the CD's.

"Anything in particular?"

"You choose." He let his chin drop to her shoulder as she found what she was looking for and slid it in the drawer. Took a deep breath as he nuzzled into her neck. "New perfume?"

"Yeah." She squirmed as his breath fanned her skin. "Bought it today. It's called Fantasy."

"It's nice." His hands moved to her waist as the music began, turning her to face him. "What else did you buy?"

"Steak."

"Mmm…"

"Strawberries."

"Yeah…"

"This." She leaned back and looked down at her blouse.

"Mmm… Like I said, gorgeous. Now, c'mere. You can show me properly later. I gotta say a few things."

He moved her to the middle of the room and pulled her close. Fitting the two of them comfortably together as her head rested on his chest, and her hands went around his neck. Letting the music move them, flow over them, relax them. His mouth was very close to her ear as he gathered her to him and held her.

"I meant it when I said you were beautiful, Buffy."

"Did you?"

He felt her tense at that and he pulled her closer momentarily, hard against him, almost stifling her as he squeezed his eyes closed and said it again. "Of course I did. Have you any idea what you mean to me?"

She leaned back a little then and looked at him through half closed eyes. Then she hid her face in his chest again and when she spoke her voice was a little muffled, tinged with an edge of emotion he'd rarely heard from her. "Yes I do, because you mean it to me too."

"Then you know what I'm going to say next?"

"I think so."

They moved in silence for a few more moments while he plucked up the courage to say the words. Words from which there'd be no going back. This was the point where his heart was officially going on the line. Scary, but necessary if this relationship was going to move forward.

It felt as perfect a moment as it ever would be, except that she was suddenly pulling away from him, the abruptness of her movement confusing him. He still had his eyes closed as he tried to pull her back and when he opened them she was stepping away, and patting her hair, a bright smile now plastered on her face.

He looked around, slightly dazed after such a build up, and reached out to her again, but she grabbed hold of both his hands and held them to stop him touching her. Then he turned slowly, following her gaze to the door which led to the small corridor off which were the two bedrooms.

"Dawn, honey." Buffy dropped his hands, gave him a look and quickly crossed the room. "Dawnie, what are you doing up?"

Dawn stood in the entrance, teddy bear tucked under her arm, thumb in her mouth, eyes wide. She looked as if she'd stepped into another world as she moved her head from side to side watching the flickering shadows made by the candlelight.

Buffy bent down to scoop her up but Dawn sidestepped her smartly and ran to the sofa. Wriggling herself comfortable, she patted the spaces either side and looked at them expectantly.

"Mommy sit here, and Uncle Spike can sit here."

Buffy followed and knelt down in front of her.

"Sweetheart, you have to go to bed. This is mommy's time."

"You look pretty mommy. Can I be pretty like you when I'm all grown up?"

"You're already pretty sweetie, but you really have to go to bed. Do you want mommy to take you or Uncle Spike?"

Spike's heart sank a little at the expression on Dawn's face. She wriggled further back into the sofa and made a big show of arranging her teddy bear next to her, then she looked at them with the smug satisfaction of one who knows that they have you completely at their mercy, and there isn't a thing that you can do about it.

-------------------------------------------------

The phone rang half way through the steaks. Buffy picked up the call in the kitchen, hoping it wouldn't be her mom. The last thing she needed was to listen to another of her mother's rambling monologues. As she lifted it to her ear she took a quick peek at Spike and Dawn.

Still sitting where she'd left them. On their second book by the look of things. Dawn was at least looking a little sleepy now, keeping herself awake by sheer willpower in that way children have of not wanting to miss out when they've caught wind of something happening.

To Dawn, candles equalled birthdays and birthdays equalled parties. And the only way she was going back to bed was asleep. And she didn't look as if she was going to let that happen any time soon.

They didn't tell you this in the baby manuals Buffy thought, as she lifted the receiver to her ear. Not exactly mixy, a sex life and small children.

"Angel?"

She closed the door and lowered her voice, cupping her hand over the receiver.

"Angel, it's not a good time."

"No, not like that, things are good right now. Want to keep it that way. I just can't talk right now."

"I don't know when."

"No, don't come over. Please not now."

"Alright, I'll meet you."

"Anytime, just not tonight, okay?"

"She's fine, really, we're both fine."

"You scared her, Angel. Kids don't generally like hearing their dad trying to break the door down."

"I know you are, look, call me back tomorrow. Afternoon sometime after four, I'll be back from work then."

"Yeah, I got a job."

"No, I don't have anyone here."

"Angel?"

"Angel?" Damn.

She jabbed the off button, threw the phone across the counter top, and rescued the steaks. Just in time, she thought, turning off the power and putting them back to keep warm.

Heck, he wasn't coming round was he? Not now. Please don't let him ruin things now.

Okay, salad, bowl, dressing. Hell, why was she bothering? Life was like a slippery slope. You clawed your way up only to get a glimpse of what it could be like, then you slid right back down again. That damned emotional baggage was just too heavy. Weighed you down and stopped you from going anywhere, no matter how hard you tried.

Another look at Dawn and Spike. The book was finished and they were talking. Dawn's arms waving, a big smile on her face. Spike hoisting her up on to his lap. Laughter from Dawn. Spike pretending to drop her. More squeals. Not the way to get her to sleep but what the heck.

It had been like a fairytale, just for a short time. Her, Dawn, Spike. Could it have been more perfect?

Only life wasn't a fairytale and it was never going to be.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"So, who am I?"

"The handsome prince."

"Sounds good. And your mum?"

"She can be a princess."

"I like that. So, who are you going to be?"

"I'm the wicked witch."

Spike laughed. "Aren't you supposed to be a fairy or something?"

"Grrr." Dawn raised her hands and clawed her fingers. "Bad guys have more fun."

Spike ducked, pretended to be scared, then swung her up. "Where did you learn that, young lady?"

"Mommy."

"Okay, definitely time for bed. Let's go say goodnight to your mum."

Dawn made a face and tried a token wriggle but Spike held her fast. "Look, teddy's really sleepy, I just saw him yawn."

"No, you didn't. Don't want to go to bed."

"Okay Dawn, listen carefully," Spike said as he carted the reluctant bundle over to the kitchen. "This is mommy and Spike time. Just grown-ups, see?"

"And me?"

"Sorry love."

"But I want to come to the party."

"I know, we'll have another one tomorrow, how about that?"

He barely still had hold of her as he pushed open the kitchen door. She wriggled down and ran to her mother, hugging her around the legs and looking cheekily back at him.

"Mommy wants me to come to the party, don't you mommy?"

"Whatever."

Spike frowned. Buffy had barely registered Dawn's comment. Everything about her was slightly off. The way she held herself, the slump of her shoulders, the distracted look.

"What's up, burnt the steak?"

"Nothing." Buffy backed away waving her hands, disentangling Dawn from her legs. "Why is she still up?"

Dawn seemed to pick up on the mood immediately. She ran back to Spike and hid behind his legs.

"Uh- oh, mommy's mad."

Spike narrowed his eyes. Focused on Buffy, at the sink now, scrubbing at the grill-pan, the steaks sitting on a plate on the counter, going cold.

"No Dawn, not with you." He groped for her hand, watched Buffy for a few more moments then crouched down. "How about we start the party with Barney? Would you like that?"

"Yay, Barney."

"Go put it on then."

Dawn dutifully disappeared and Spike quickly crossed the distance between him and Buffy. For a moment he thought she wasn't going to turn around. Coming off her in waves now. Tension, panic, anger. She flinched slightly as he rested a hand on her shoulder. Pulled away a little, but he wasn't having that.

"Was it the phone call?"

"Yes."

"Angel?"

She nodded her head.

He managed to get his arms around her but she was too stiff to take any comfort from it. He held on though. Another defining moment in their relationship coming up. Not exactly a battle of wills, but he could only tell her so many times he'd be there for her. She had to want him to be as well.

"What did he say?" He slipped his hands to her shoulders. Felt the knots there, squeezed lightly. "Tell me, love."

"Am I?" She didn't turn around. Her hands were on the edge of the sink now, gripping at the stainless steel.

"Are you what?" He leaned over her shoulder to try and see her face, but she turned away.

"Your love. Am I really?" Her voice had a brittle edge to it. Just a hint of totally inappropriate amusement. As if it was funny that he could, or would want to love her.

It made him angry. Just for a split second. After all he'd done for her, hadn't she got it yet? What did it take? He redirected it immediately. It wasn't her he was angry with. Bloody Angel. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Let her get on with her life?

"You know you are."

"No, I don't. You've never said it."

"Yes you do, Buffy. Turn around, please?" He spoke softly, feeling bad for adding to the burden of what she was feeling right now, but if saying this had been important before the phone call, it was doubly important now.

She came back to him gradually, turning round in jerky movements, as if with each step she was deciding whether to go on, or not. To be with him, or not.

By the time she was finally facing him, his hands were shaking.

The strains of Barney and his chums singing floated through from the living room.

I love you, you love me, we're a happy family…

They both laughed at that. A grateful release of tension, then she fell against him, her forehead on his chest, her hands fiddling with his shirt.

He held her. "Isn't this where we were half an hour ago?"

"Reckon so. What were you going to tell me?"

"Same as what you told me this afternoon."

"Spike!" She pounded on his chest with a fist and it was only half in jest. "I really need you to say it."

"Hell, Buffy. I love you so much I don't know how to say it without sounding like a complete prat."

"Try." Eyes shining with tears now, bottom lip wobbling.

Happiness? Relief? He just couldn't tell right then. So he kissed her nose and said it again. "I love you." Then each eye-lid. Then her forehead, just as she'd done that afternoon to him, punctuating each kiss with another declaration of his love. Each kiss lingering a little longer than the last until he reached her mouth.

"I really, really love you." He had hold of her face now, his thumbs squeezing her cheeks as she looked back at him with startled eyes. As if he'd still managed to surprise her despite everything.

He sealed his words with a kiss to her mouth in the traditional manner, trying to put everything he had into it but finding, surprisingly that he didn't need to. This was a different kind of intensity. His grip on her face loosened as he realised that he didn't have to hold on quite so tightly any more because she wasn't going anywhere.

The wobbly bottom lip turned up into a bit of a smile and he only just heard her whispered thank you.

"You're very welcome, love. Reckon it's your turn now."

"Can it be my turn too?"

Dawn ran into the room, squeezed between them and looked up. "I want to play too."

----------------------------------------------------

Buffy looked down at her daughter and smoothed back the little girl's hair. The hand on the brown locks was still shaking, as his had been. She'd known he loved her. Hadn't she been the one to make such a thing of showing, not telling? Everything he did for her told her how much. But she'd been wrong to think that the words didn't matter. There wasn't anything in the world like hearing those words spoken just right. They'd gone right through her and sent everything soaring. Her heart, her hopes, her dreams.

And yes, now it was her turn.

She bent down and picked Dawn up, turned her so that she was facing Spike.

"Mommy loves Spike. Do you know that, Dawnie?"

"Of course I do, silly." Dawn scolded her as if she was the child. "He's uncle Spike."

"And uncle Spike loves your mommy very much. That okay with you little bit?"

"Hooray." Dawn went into a frenzy of handclapping as Buffy leaned across to put her seal on it.

Just one small kiss. That's all it took for the commitment to be made. The bargain sealed. Then it was time for that glowing feeling that starts somewhere inside and spreads throughout your body until it ends in a huge beaming smile. And a few moments of basking. Because she was due a spot of basking. Just some time to really savour this. This knowing that you trust someone enough to hand your heart to them and it will be safe.

"My turn." Dawn threw her arms around Buffy and said that she loved her more than anything in the whole wide world. She reached over to Spike and did the same, declaring that Barney loved him too. Then she put her thumb in her mouth and laid her head on Buffy's shoulder, as if she was happy to go to sleep now because everything was alright with the world.

Buffy rocked her back and forth as they stood quietly together and the feeling of euphoria gave way to one of contentment. She knew she should tell Spike about the possibility that Angel was going to arrive sometime soon, and she didn't know if they were going to get the evil Angel or the nice Angel. He wouldn't come straight away. If he was true to form he'd have a good brood first, convince himself that he was going to do as she said and meet her tomorrow. Then he'd crack and come barrelling over all guns blazing.

And he wasn't going to like finding Spike here. His pride would never let him be happy seeing her with another man.

They'd said some things, when they'd first got together. The usual I'll always love you and never leave me stuff. Things you say when you're drunk. Things you say without thinking. Cliches. They'd done them all. Right up to the night Angel had squeezed her arm, looked her in the eye and calmly told her that if she ever left him, he'd kill her.

He'd shed some tears over that one. She'd gone straight into the bedroom and pulled down a suitcase, daring him to carry out his threat. And he'd cried, and begged forgiveness and vowed he'd never say anything as stupid again. And she'd relented.

But it was always in the back of her mind. She was always afraid that one day he'd forget how sorry he'd been, and only remember that he'd said it, and thought he meant it.

"Come on Dawn, bedtime."

Dawn was already halfway there. Buffy tucked her into her bed and then went back to join Spike who was still in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, picking at the shredded lettuce in the salad bowl.

She suddenly felt shy around him. Wondered if he'd ever been in love with anyone before. Found she didn't want to know.

He whipped his hand out of the bowl, looked a little guilty, then grinned at her. "She asleep?"

"Yeah. Steak's ruined."

"No it's not. Perfect for steak sandwiches, you got any bread?"

"I'm supposed to be doing that."

It only took Spike two steps to cross the tiny kitchen. His hands were on her waist and before she could protest she found herself hoisted up onto the counter top.

"You sit there and look decorative, let me do it."

She took a swipe at him, made him duck. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Neither can I. Where's the bread?"

"In the breadbox. I'm sorry, this was supposed to be all sexy and stuff."

"And you sitting there in that skirt and blouse isn't sexy?"

"Who me?" Buffy leaned back onto her elbows and crossed her legs. "Don't know what you're talking about."

He shot her a glance, shook his head then went back to his sandwich making. "Don't think you're distracting me with that. Not yet, anyway. Hungry man here."

She tipped back her head, laughed a little, closed her eyes and relaxed. A strange time to be feeling so calm. She really ought to tell him about Angel's imminent arrival but she figured she had a few moments to just be before she did that. Maybe part of her wanted them to meet. Maybe she wanted to stand next to Spike and tell Angel that she'd met someone else? Someone who meant something to her in a way that he never could. He had to find out sometime. Why not tonight?

Because tonight wasn't the night for that, she thought, swinging herself up. Tonight was for her and Spike.

"Spike?"

"Yeah."

"You should know that Angel might turn up."

"You think?"

"Good chance."

"And I'm guessing he's not going to like what he sees?"

"Understatement."

"Got any Ziplocs?"

What the hell for?"

"Do you really want to see Angel tonight?"

"No." She jumped down and opened a drawer. "Got some food bags in here somewhere. I don't like running away like this."

"Discretion is the better part of valour and all that. Best to avoid a confrontation, don't you think?"

"Just bolt the front door."

"Mrs. G.'ll let him in. Even if we tell her not to. Thinks every knock on the door is Jack."

"Not what I had planned for tonight." She tossed him the bags and watched as he packed up the sandwiches. Definitely not how she'd imagined tonight. "You're right. I'll go get Dawn."

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel slicked back his hair, straightened his jacket, then knocked. He blew out a breath, listened, then knocked again.

"Buffy?" It came out just a little louder than he intended, so he stepped back and willed himself to be calm. Not going to get anywhere if they had a repeat of his last visit. He still cringed when he thought about what a jerk he'd been. How he'd scared Dawn half to death. How Buffy had told him that she never wanted to see him again.

He knocked once again, this time loud enough that they had to hear it, and he waited. It was up to her now. If she wanted to see him she'd open the door, and if not? Was he man enough to just walk away and give her what she wanted? A life free of him? Free of all the pain they'd inevitably cause each other?

He knew she wasn't going to open it. Stayed in place just a few moment longer than was necessary, crushing the stems on the flowers he was holding. Starting to feel like a pathetic fool and desperately trying not to blame her for it for once.

Time to go. Time to walk out of her life and let her be. He took one last look at the door that was never going to open and then he laid down the flowers, turned and walked back down the stairs.

It was a bittersweet moment. Sadness that this was finally it, mixed with a little spark of something he might once have called nobility, but that now seemed too grand a term to apply to him. Did he have a right to hurt over this? When he was the cause of all the pain?

He may not have had a right to, but he hurt anyway. As he turned the last corner of the stairs he almost bumped into the strange old woman who'd let him in. He mumbled an apology and tried to side step her, but she caught him by the arm.

"You haven't seen my dog have you?"

"Sorry lady." Angel put his head down and walked on but she turned and followed him.

"Jack took him for a walk and they've been gone such a long time. I'm so worried about them. Do you think we should call the police?"

Angel kept on walking as she struggled to keep up. "Look, I haven't seen your dog, or anyone, so if you'll excuse me?"

"Were you looking for Buffy?"

That made him stop. He turned and looked back up the stairs as the old lady made her way slowly towards him.

"I might be. Is she home?"

"She'll be with that nice Mr Spike." The old lady leaned closer to him and spoke in a stage whisper. "He's such a kind man, adores her. Of course, he could have had me, but I think I'm a bit old for him. They like them younger these days, don't they? Now, have you seen my dog, or haven't you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" She had him by the arm again. He shook her off.

"That's his appartment, up there, opposite Buffy's. Always doing things for her, and Dawn. The little one just adores him too. That's where you'll find them."

It was the mention of Dawn that did it. Pushed him over a line he'd been determined not to cross tonight. It was one thing for this Spike person to be messing around with his Buffy. He had to let her go, he knew that. And a looker like her was bound to have men sniffing around. But his daughter calling another man daddy?

He was aware of the old woman smiling benevolently at him as he turned and began to climb the stairs once more. He'd failed Dawn more than he'd failed Buffy and now he had someone to conveniently blame for it.

Someone who probably bought her presents and read her stories and tucked her up in bed at night. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done any of those things. But how was it his fault if Buffy never let him see her?

By the time he'd reached the top of the stairs again Spike, whoever he was, had become the cause of all his problems. It was simple really, he just couldn't work out why he hadn't seen it before. He stopped at Spike's door and knocked. He could hear the voices, Buffy's and a man's on the other side. Sounded like they were having a heated discussion. He knocked again, heard the sound of a key turning in the lock and then the door opened.

Angel took one moment to register the blond haired man standing on the threshold, then he cocked back his arm, balled his fist and with a satisfying crack, punched him squarely in the face.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a moment all Buffy could do was stand frozen to the spot. Spike swore as he staggered backwards, then sat down abruptly on the floor, his hands clamped over his nose. A trickle of blood between his fingers soon turned into a flood and the sight of that made her legs start working again. She was on her knees beside him, praying that Angel hadn't broken his nose. Blood splashing onto her new blouse.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Spike looked reproachfully up at Angel who was still standing in place, his eyes slightly wide as if he couldn't believe himself what he'd just done.

Buffy saw that too as she helped Spike up and onto the sofa. Grabbing a box of tissues, she took out a wad and packed them under his nose, held them in place for him, then she spared another glance at Angel.

What the hell did you say at times like this? They were all hurting, but if Angel wanted consolation he wasn't going to get it from her.

"Do you want some ice, Spike?"

"Please. Bloody hell, it hurts. Ow."

She made sure that Angel saw it. Her arm around Spike's shoulder, the closeness as she tended to him. The love.

Angel narrowed his eyes and she saw his jaw tense.

She stood up. "Angel, meet Spike. The man I love."

"Buffy…"

"No Angel, we're gonna do this my way for a change. I'm going to get some ice for Spike, then you and I are going to have a talk."

She helped Spike into the kitchen, found some ice and packed it into a small hand towel.

"Here. I'm so sorry Spike. He is such a jerk."

"It's okay." Spike took the ice pack and winced as he applied it to his nose. "Do you want me to be there?"

"Better not, will you be alright?"

"Yeah. Leave the door open though."

"I will. Gotta sort this now, then I'm going to come back and make love to you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, do you think you'll be up to it?"

"Too bloody right. Buffy, be careful."

"I will."

Angel was still standing where she'd left him. She walked past him, took out her keys and indicated to him to follow her.

The flowers stopped her. It was his thing. Always bringing flowers, as if they were the solution to every problem.

He picked them up and handed them silently to her. She didn't want to take them but he looked so forlorn that she didn't have the heart to refuse. That was his thing too, making her feel sorry for him. He was good at that.

Unlocking her door she motioned him inside.

"Do you really love him?"

"Yes."

He followed her in, sat where she told him to, his head down, elbows resting on knees.

"Then it's truly over for us?"

"Has been for a long time, Angel. How did you get in?"

"Front door was open. The old lady was looking for her dog."

"Oh. Look Angel, I can't stay long, need to get back to Spike, make sure he's okay.

"Yeah. Sorry about that. Will you tell him? That I'm sorry."

"I'll tell him."

"So, he's your landlord? Didn't waste much time, did he?" He looked up.

"Angel."

"Okay, okay. There's nothing left to say is there? Are you going to let me see Dawn?"

"If you want to." Buffy sat next to him, resisting the urge to hug him. He looked sorely in need of one but she knew she shouldn't. No matter how much she wanted to. It surprised her that she should even think that after what he'd done to Spike, but much as she wanted a clean break she knew that emotionally, it wasn't going to be.

They could spend the rest of their lives blaming each other for this mess but maybe it was both their fault? Maybe she needed to realise that before she could truly break away from him. They were neither of them perfect.

"Angel. I'm sorry I couldn't be who you wanted me to be."

He looked sideways at her. Gave her a sad smile. Nodded a little.

"Yeah, me too. Maybe I could take Dawn to the zoo, or something. Isn't that what absentee fathers do?"

"Maybe. I'll talk to her." She put her hand on his arm then, because there was something else to say before he left. Something he needed to know.

He stared at the hand, lifted his own, then dropped it again.

"What?"

"You've need to know Angel. I was pregnant a while back but I miscarried." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she told him. Talking about it was still hard. "Just thought you ought to know."

"Was it mine?"

"Yeah."

He squeezed his eyes shut tight. Stayed like that for what seemed like a long time, but the tears spilled out anyway. And even after all he'd put her through, Buffy still found that she had some compassion to spare for him. So she put her arms around him, and held him while he cried. And she hugged him again as she let him out of the front door. Tried to focus on the good times they'd had together as she watched him walk away. Thought about her promise to let him see Dawn. She needed to know her father. And she would.

Then Buffy stood in the hall for a few moments and gathered herself together, mentally saying goodbye to her old life. So many defining moments all coming so fast they were making her dizzy.

Perhaps she was wrong to spend too much time focusing on the big stuff. If you did that you missed those quiet spaces in between that were just as important. And right now that was what she needed.

She found Spike lying on the bed, his arm across his eyes. When he heard her he sat up and swung his legs over the side. She walked into his arms and let him hold her.

"Was it rough?"

"Yeah, but not in that way. I think he got the message, I just don't know."

Spike sighed. "Come to bed."

She stroked back his hair, looked at his swollen nose. "How are you feeling? I promised you lovemaking."

"I'll live. Look, we don't have to, not after all this. I just want to spend the night with you."

Buffy looked down at her blood-stained blouse. "Reckon I ought to get this in to soak?"

"Reckon so."

"Then take it off me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. And don't worry," she said as she watched him open the buttons and slide the material over her shoulders, his fingers coming back to rest on the front clasp of her bra.

She nodded, giving him permission to continue, her breathing a little ragged now, his fingers grazing her skin as he flicked it open.

"You just lie back," she said easing him down on to the bed, hitching up her skirt and crawling astride him. "And let me take care of you for a change."

tbc...



AN. Angel did come out a lot more sympathetically than I thought he would initially, just couldn't bash him too hard when it came to it....

Chapter 5

Spike lay awake for a long time wondering why he didn’t feel as satisfied as he should. Sex with Buffy, it was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? What she’d wanted? They’d waited long enough - both of them were fit to burst with the UST. Hell, they’d even said those words of love that he’d thought were so important. Then why did he feel almost as if he’d used her?

She woke up some time during the early hours and found him standing at the window smoking a cigarette. Something he didn’t do very often these days. He stubbed it out and flipped it out of the window. Sitting up, she held out her arms to him and called him back to bed.

He looked at her long and hard before he went, sitting himself on the bed beside her.

“What’s up? Face hurting?”

“Yeah, just got some more painkillers. Are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be?” She pulled the sheet over her breasts, pushed back her hair. Squinted at him in the half-light. “Spike?”

“You sure you’re okay, Buffy? I mean that thing with Angel yesterday, got to affect you hasn’t it?”

She moved herself closer, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning her head on it.

“Last night, after Angel left, you were wonderful.”

“So were you.”

Another pause.

“But?”

“No buts. Not really.” He put his arm around her and leaned back against the headboard, taking her with him “I was just having a guilt attack. Sort of felt like I should have given you a bit of space between me and Angel. I just wanted you too much. Selfish, I guess.”

“Selfish, not you Spike.” She shook her head at that. “You’ve probably got your faults, like we all have, but that’s not one of them. And it’s been a long time since I slept with Angel.”

“I know, but yesterday was a bit of an emotional roller coaster, wasn’t it?”

“And you think what? I was trying to prove something? Stake a claim? What?”

He didn’t answer. This was the kind of conversation it was so easy to mess up, say the wrong thing. And he didn’t want to do that, not now.

She gave him a few moments and then she continued, in a voice slightly less sure than before. “Please don’t tell me that you regret what we did.”

He caught the change in her tone and the slight stiffening of her body against his and instantly regretted being the cause of it. “No, no, you mustn’t think I didn’t want you, Buffy, because I did, very much,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. It’s not you, it’s me. Just felt I should have had more control.”

“Oh, thank god.” She relaxed again, her fingers moving to the buttons of his shirt. “I love you Spike, and I love what we did. And,” she gave a small laugh. “If we try and psychoanalyse my life so far we’re going to be here a long time. Why don’t you get undressed and come back to bed? Let’s just go forward from here, shall we?”

“You’re right.” He released her, pulled his tee shirt over his head and wriggled out of his jeans, then he lay down. The last thing he wanted was to give her any self doubt.

“I loved what we did, too, and I'm really proud of you love."

"D'you mean that, Spike?"

"With all my heart. Now, come here and give us a cuddle, you gorgeous thing, you. But mind my nose.”

“Poor baby,” she said lying beside him. “Thank you Spike, for everything. Want me to kiss it better?”

“That’d be nice. Did I mention that I love you too?”

“Yeah, but you can say it again if you want.”

“I love you, Buffy. And you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Quit worrying Spike. Now hold still while I kiss it better.”

“I meant my nose, Buffy.”

“I know. And I’ll get there. Eventually.”

-
----------------------

“Hey, you’ve got a stalker.”

“Have I? Let’s see.”

Spike put down his notebook and pen and hauled himself off the sofa. He crossed the room to where Buffy was working and squinted at the computer screen.

“That one.” Buffy pointed out the review. “Says she’d going to be your personal stalker unless you finish Random Hearts. You are going to finish it, aren’t you? It’s been weeks since you updated.”

“Yeah, I’ll finish it. Just doesn’t seem so important right now. But the only stalker I want is you.” He kissed Buffy’s cheek before returning to the sofa and throwing himself back down.

“Bloody plot bunnies, shagging all over the place at the moment. Can’t get ‘em down fast enough.” He picked up his notebook and chewed the end of his pen.

“Lucky you. I’m completely stuck on Chaos. And don’t you think you’re leaving a half finished work in progress on my site, mister. Your beta has spoken.” Buffy hit return, then leaned back and stretched. “That’s the updates done, thank god. Want a drink?”

“Sound’s good. Want me to do it?”

“No, I’ll do it. You get on with your shagging bunnies, or whatever.”

“Opened the wine earlier so it could breathe.”

“Breathing wine, eh? Aren’t we getting posh. Where I come from, the bottle’s disappeared before it’s had a chance to draw a single breath. Hey, maybe I should get the butler to do it?”

She ducked as a cushion sailed past her head and took herself off to the kitchen to find the wine. Trailer park living had hardly run to wine, let alone wine that breathed. And never the kind of wine that Spike always turned up with. She had no idea how rich he actually was. Not that it mattered, but it certainly didn’t show in the way he dressed, or the things he owned. No flashy car or designer furniture. And he didn’t have any outrageously expensive hobbies or go on exotic holidays that she knew of.

But whenever he bought something it was always the best. They’d had many an argument in the supermarket over him filling the cart with what she called ‘posh’ food, or if she was feeling snarky, ‘pretentious’ food. He always countered by saying that if a thing was worth doing, it was worth doing properly. And of course, that he’d pay.

She filled the glasses and took a sip, rolled the wine around her tongue and made sipping noises like she’d seen them do on television food programs, and then she nearly spat it all over herself as she spotted him standing in the doorway smirking at her.

“Will you quit sneaking up on me. You scared me.”

He laughed, took the glass of wine she offered him and followed her back to the living room. She sat on the floor, her head resting against the sofa. Spike lay down again.

They sat with each other for a few moments, neither of them speaking. Like you do when you’re content and comfortable enough with someone to just enjoy the silence. They didn’t get much of that with Dawn around. When she wasn’t talking or watching television, she was banging away on the keyboard that Angel had bought her. So times like this were to be savoured.

The restful ticking of the clock. The posh wine. Spike winding a lock of her hair through his fingers. Even the road outside had gone quiet.

She tipped her head back to look at him and he leaned over and gave her an upside-down kiss.

“Makes a change though, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“Me scaring you.”

“When did I ever scare you?” She sat up a little, tried to look indignant at the thought, but ended up frowning instead.

“Oh, lots of times love. Gave me more than a few sleepless nights, I’ll tell you.”

“Don’t think I want to know.” She settled back down and brought her hand up to the back of his neck as he leaned over for another kiss. Held him in place until he pulled away.

A lovely, lazy evening coming up, filled with nothing but quiet talk and kisses. Touching, caressing, more wine. Maybe a movie. Then one of them would stand up and hold out their hand - it wasn’t always him - and they’d drift toward the bedroom with more kissing. He liked to whisper things, as men do when they’re so focused and he’d laughed his head off the first time she’d countered with words equally as dirty.

He liked her to surprise him.

Then they’d undress each other and fall onto the bed. Sometimes it would start slow and finish fast, sometimes they’d manage to keep a semblance of control for a decent amount of time. Always in the back of her mind was the thought that Dawn might wake up and come into the bedroom.

“I’m not still doing it, am I, Spike?”

“No, not any more. I’m sleeping very well, as a matter of fact.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Was that your mom on the phone?”

“My sister’s playing up again. They’re worried.”

“I’m sorry,” She replied squeezing his hand.

Another silence as they both lapsed into thought. He hadn’t told her a lot about his family but she knew that his sister was a recovering drug addict. In and out of the hospital. Knew he worried about her too.

“Tell me about where you come from, Spike. It’s one of those English villages you see in those PBS dramas, isn’t it? What’s she called – Miss Marple? Bet it’s got a duck pond and all?”

“Bang on the nail, complete with requisite ducks. Small village in Hampshire. Dad’s an accountant and mum does good works. Very Miss Marple. How about you?”

“Trailer park in Cecil County, Maryland. And if I ever see my father again in this lifetime then it will be too soon.”

“And your mum?”

“In and out. She can only take my dad in small doses, you know?”

“Is that why you ran off with Angel?”

“Partly.” She left it at that. It was all so much water under the bridge. The important thing about mistakes was that you learned from them, and then you moved on. They were both making an effort, her and Angel, mainly for the sake of Dawn. Angel was finding it hard, she could tell that, but to give him his due, he’d managed to keep himself under control, so far, and give her the space she needed.

And with Spike it just got better every day.

“How’re your computer payments going?”

“Oh, great. I’ll own it in like, a million years. That’s the nice thing about layaway.”

“Oh well.” Spike winked At her. “Good job you’ve got a birthday coming up. Wanna watch something on TV?”

“Yeah. Little Women’s on, just remembered, original version too. Do you mind?”

“I love it, stick it on, then come up here.”

As she turned on the movie she had no idea whether he really liked it or not, but it was nice that he had such a wonderful ability to just go with the flow. Between Angel and her there’d always been such a battle of wills over everything. Neither of them had ever been able to let anything go, even a simple thing like choosing which movie to watch.

She flicked on the TV and found the movie channel, then she fetched the wine bottle, refilled their glasses and settled in next to Spike.

“You sure you don’t mind this?”

“It’s fine. You gonna stay sober, or shall I?”

“Nice try, Spike. It’s your turn. Shh. It’s started.”

Something else she loved about him. The way he’d accepted that Dawn was a part of their relationship, and everything that went with that. The restrictions it put on their sex life for one, and the fact that one of them had to stay sober so that there was a responsible adult around in case she needed them.

She cried at Beth’s death, like she always did, but this time it didn’t seem so bad with Spike to hold her and wipe away her tears. He seemed content to just be with her, although by the end of the film he was starting on the buttons of her shirt.

“Spike, what if Dawn wakes up?”

“Better move to the bedroom then.”

“Is that all you ever think about?”

“Mostly, you coming?”

He may be kind, considerate Spike but he was just like any other man when it came to sex. The one track mind, the glazed over expression. He’d never force himself on her, but he was pretty damned persuasive when it came to this. And pretty damned hard to resist. Not that she wanted to of course.

She let herself be pulled up, grabbing at her wine and drinking it down. Giggled as the alcohol kicked in and she fell back down again. Shrieked as he picked her up and strode determinedly to the bedroom, dropped her on the bed and got to work on his own clothes. Lay back and watched lazily as his clothes fell away.

By the time he lay down beside her and started on hers she was feeling like a breathless sixteen year old again. Trembling as he touched her all over, first with his hands then with his lips. Then she remembered that she was a woman of twenty three and good at this, so she flipped him over and did the same for him.

She loved it when he lay there, completely at her mercy, telling her to have her wicked way with him. Sometimes the words were sweet and poetic and the lovemaking would be a slow burn, building in gentle waves that washed over them as they rocked together. Sometimes he just told her exactly what he wanted and she’d be more than happy to oblige. Then the passion would be hungry and consuming and they’d forget that Dawn was in the next room and just abandon themselves to the sheer, lusty pleasure of it.

But afterwards it was always the same. They’d hold each other and try to remember what breathing normally felt like, and they’d talk. There was something special about lying quietly in the aftermath that went beyond what they’d just done.

His hot, sweaty body was a solid reminder of his strength and presence in her life. Telling her that she no longer had to shoulder her burdens alone. And the words of love weren’t just spoken in gratitude, they were also a reassurance and a promise. Telling her that he’d loved her for a long time, he loved her now and he always would.

She snuggled against him, loving the way he smelled after sex and feeling stronger than she had done for a long time. And safe. Wrapped here in his arms she felt as if nothing in the world could touch her. She needed to brush her teeth, take off her make-up, but she didn’t move. That could wait until after he’d fallen asleep. Right now the most important thing for her to do was to just lie there, be peaceful and love him.

-------------------------------------------------

“Come on niblet, time for school. Ready for inspection?”

Dawn’s beaming faced looked up at him and she went off into a fit of giggles as he tapped her on each cheek, her chin and then her nose.

“You’ll do, come on.”

“Mommy always makes me wash. You never do.”

Spike picked up his keys and slipped his wallet into his pocket. “Then we’ll have to keep it a secret, won’t we? Out you go.”

She bounded ahead of him and as they turned the last corner of the stairs, Spike was vaguely aware that his phone was ringing but he didn’t go back. The preschool that they’d got Dawn into was only a few minutes walk away. Whoever it was could wait.

When they got to class he dropped down on one knee and looked Dawn in the eye.

“Okay, Dawn. How does it go?”

Dawn looked serious for a moment then recited her little mantra.

“You always come back.”

“And do you believe that?”

“Yes.”

“Off you go then, sweetheart. See you later.”

Spike caught the teacher’s eye who mouthed ‘she’ll be fine’ at him and took Dawn’s hand and led her towards a group of children who were playing in the sand box. He watched from a safe distance for a few moments before leaving her, happy that she seemed to have settled at last.

She’d found it surprisingly difficult at first, particularly with the initial parting at the start of the session. Like most kids, she’d usually settled down by the time he’d left the building, but with Dawn he knew she wasn’t just putting on a show to make them feel guilty. Whether it was him or Buffy, she had seemed to find it genuinely traumatic to say goodbye. Almost as if she believed she’d never see them again if they were out of her sight. It wasn’t surprising really, given the reclusive life she’d led with Buffy, holed up in that apartment for so long, seeing no-one, probably internalising all the trauma going on around her.

But she was a fighter, he knew that much. Because she’d had to be. And he thanked god for her because she’d been the only thing that had kept Buffy going when they’d first moved in.

When he got back he spared a glance at Mrs. G.’s door, raised a hand to knock then dropped it again. Hell, his next chapter was never going to get written at this rate. He took the stairs two at a time, thinking that he’d have himself a little Spike time this afternoon. A thousand words, then off to the gym, that should give him enough time to make sure he wasn’t late for Dawn. He clicked his answer machine as he re-entered his apartment, threw his keys down and looked around for his notebook.

One new message. It was Mrs. G. Spike immediately felt a huge pang of totally irrational guilt. Short of having her move in with them he couldn’t think what else he could have done to look after her any more than they did. But still, he should have knocked. Hadn’t seen her for two days now, and heck, she didn’t sound good. The message was a little garbled to say the least so he grabbed his keys again, locked up and went downstairs.

She opened the door, eventually. By the time she did, he was imagining all manner of bizarre fates that may have befallen her and so he had to do a mental double take when just –as- she-usually-was Mrs G. appeared.

Her face lit up when she saw him and he was clutched in a surprisingly strong grip and pulled inside. The usually neat apartment was a mess, boxes and open suitcases littered the place. Clothing strewn about the chairs. Every cupboard door was open and the contents piled in stacks on the floor.

Mrs. G. stood calmly beside him as he took it in. It wasn’t just a mess, he could see that. Something was going on here, the whole place was buzzing with the kind of energy he’d never felt around her before. She’d always given off a feeling of finality. Completion. Exactly what you’d expect from someone so old who’d done everything and was, well, finished. But this? It was radiating off her. Excitement, change, new beginnings.

He turned to her and cocked his head, raised his eyebrows as realisation dawned and she folded her arms and gave him a satisfied smile. As if she was pleased that he’d picked it up without her having to explain it, or justify it.

“Do you think I’m mad, Spike?”

His arm went around her shoulders in response and he surprised himself by almost breaking up when he answered her.

“We’re gonna miss our surrogate granny. When are you going?”

“As soon as I get organised. Jack’s terrible at all this stuff, always leaves it all to me. Will you stay for tea?”

He didn’t really want to, but he did. So much for Spike time. But that didn’t seem to matter so much. This moment, seeing Mrs. G. so excited and happy, so hopeful after the confusion and despair that she’d been spiralling down into, was like a gift. And not just because he was a writer.

She was going home to end her days in England as she’d always talked about and all he could do was sit there and bask in the pure joy that radiated from her.

“I’m really pleased for you.”

She handed him his tea and sat opposite him. “I know you are, Spike. And thank you.” Her voice broke a little too as she spoke to him. She stirred her tea and stared into the cup for a moment before continuing.

“I’ve really appreciated everything you’ve done for me.”

Spike nodded, and they drank their tea, each of them lost in their thoughts.

Mrs. G.’s lip still trembled and her hand still shook but she carried about her now such a sense of purpose. You needed that. A goal, a dream, something to reach out to, something to walk towards. No matter how disillusioned you became, or how old you got. But you also needed to remember to be there for the journey. To touch people along the way. Smell the roses. To feel the road beneath your feet and the sun at your back.

It would have been so much easier to have walked past her door, to ignore the batty old lady with her improper suggestions and strange habits. But he was glad he hadn’t. He wouldn’t have missed this for the world.

At some point, Buffy arrived, walking slowly into the apartment and giving the jumble of belongings the same look of wide-eyed wonder that Dawn might have.

Spike wasn’t even aware that she was there until he felt her hand on his shoulder. He leaned his cheek against it, relishing the contact, aware that Mrs. G. was smiling benevolently at them, and suddenly he knew exactly what he had to do.

There are times in life when things shift and change, move forward or even backwards. Time when you come to a junction in the road and you have to choose whether to go left or right. And it’s at times like that when you make your big decisions. And the important moments of life aren’t always accompanied by flashing lights and crashes of thunder. Sometimes they are very quiet and very unassuming. So that if you blinked, you’d miss them.

Sitting there, in that old lady’s apartment, among the debris of her life, Spike seized the moment and made the most important decision of his life.

---------------------------------------------------------

“I thought she was never going to let us go.”

Buffy relieved Spike of the stack of clothes that he was carrying so that he could unlock the door, then she followed him in and dumped them onto a chair.

“Kind of sad to see her leave, though.”

“Yeah, and you are gonna look so sexy in these.” Buffy held up the enormous pair of trousers that Mrs. G. had insisted they take, and laughed at Spike’s expression.

“In your dreams, woman.”

“Nightmares more like.” Buffy refolded them thinking they could go to a charity shop when Mrs. G. had gone. It was amusing that Mrs. G. should ever think that Spike would wear the things, but she’d been struck by the care with which the old woman had chosen what to give away. Buffy had guessed that she hadn’t just been giving them clothes and mementoes, she’d been giving them memories too. Things that meant a lot to her from times when she’d been happy. She was just trying to pass that happiness on.

And there was Spike, standing in front of her, looking at the small box containing Jack’s war medals. Mrs. G. had been adamant that he have those, even though he’d tried his best to refuse. She’d folded his hand around them very determinedly and said he was to take them. So he had.

“Can I see?” Buffy moved beside him and peered into the box, leaned against him as his arm went around her. “Do you know anything about medals?”

“Not a thing. I think he was a pilot.”

“Yeah, she’s got a picture of him in his uniform.”

Spike snapped the box closed and brought his other arm around her. Took that half-step that would bring him even closer.

Buffy closed her eyes and breathed him in. He felt different somehow. Not in a bad way, but there was something. She’d felt it the moment that she’d walked into Mrs. G.’s apartment. Like he was hovering on the edge of something really important.

She shifted a little so that she could see into his face, and he let her look. Preparing her for the words that would follow. Because she knew exactly what he was going to say. Maybe it was the nostalgia of seeing Mrs. G. amongst the things that had defined her life. Maybe it was the mixture of happiness and sadness that she’d felt at Mrs. G.’s departure. The fact that this step that Mrs. G. was taking was to be both a new beginning for her and also her final one. Perhaps it was just that bizarre moment when Mrs. G. had got out Jack’s ashes and asked them if he should go in her suitcase or her hand luggage.

Whatever it was, Buffy was feeling it too. The slightly surreal sense of unreality that was still clinging to them. That strange feeling that they’d somehow stepped outside of the everyday flow of things.

She’d only felt it a couple of times before. Once at a funeral when she’d suddenly been struck by a frightening sense of her own mortality, and once when she’d gone to Niagara Falls and for a split second it had been just her and the thundering water.

And now.

When the answer is ready then the question can be asked. She was nodding her head before he’d even started speaking and by the time he’d asked her to marry him she’d already said yes.

They both heaved sighs of relief, settled against each other and waited for the world to resume its normal speed. Spike whispered thank you against her cheek but Buffy remained quiet. There were no words for what she was feeling so she didn’t even try.

Mrs. G. had crossed an ocean to be with Jack. Spike had only had to cross the landing. And at times it had felt like a million miles. But he was here now, in her arms. Together they’d found something worth hanging onto for the rest of their lives.

All she had to do was hold on tight, and never let him go.

------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue

“Where did they say she was?”

“Over there, I think.” Spike pointed across the churchyard to the small row of cottages that ran along its boundary. “Number 28.”

“Will she be all old and wrinkly now, mommy?”

“She already was, sweetie. Do you remember Mrs. G?”

Dawn screwed up her face and thought hard for a moment. “A little bit. Will she remember me?”

“Of course she will, and she’s going to love those flowers.”

Dawn skipped on ahead, totally unconcerned that they were in a graveyard.

Spike reached for Buffy’s hand.

“So, what do you think of good old England then?”

“It’s nice.” Buffy looked around at the picturesque scene. The old mediaeval church, the churchyard with its crumbling gravestones, the honeysuckle tumbling over the dry-stone wall. “I mean, look at this. It’s almost as if it knew an American was coming. And your parents living in a house with a straw roof? That’s something else.”

“It’s called a thatch. And I’m glad you got on so well with them.”

“They’re sweet. Are we going to get to meet your sister?”

“I hope so. She’s not doing so good. I’ll call her again tonight.”

“Can I ring the bell, mommy?”

“Go ahead, love.”

They arranged themselves in front of the door, each of them waiting to see the expression on Mrs. G.’s face when she answered it.

Dawn stood, flowers at the ready, a big grin plastered across her face and the loud groan she gave when it wasn’t Mrs. G. that answered the door made them all laugh.

“She’s in the garden.” Mrs. G.’s slightly, but not much younger cousin, greeted them warmly and led them down the long corridor, through the back kitchen and into the garden. “I told her you were coming, but she keeps forgetting. She showed me the photographs of you though. There she is.”

The old lady stepped back and the little group approached Mrs. G. Cautiously, so as not to startle her as she dozed in the chair.

Dawn tilted her head and stared at the old woman, then she looked back at Buffy. “Is she dead, mommy?”

“No, of course not Dawn, just a bit sleepy, I think. Mrs. G.?” Buffy crept nearer and tapped her lightly on the arm. “Mrs. G. It’s Buffy. Do you remember me?”

Mrs. G. stirred and straightened herself slowly. It was a good few minutes before she seemed to realise that she had visitors. In the meantime, they all seated themselves on the garden chairs and Mrs. G.’s cousin reappeared with a tray of refreshments.

“Have you seen who’s here Edna? It’s Spike and Buffy from America. You know, I told you they were coming?”

“Are they?” Mrs. G.’s eyes became very wide as realisation dawned. She looked from Buffy to Spike then reached out her hand to Dawn. “Come here, sweetheart and let me look at you. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”

Dawn skipped forward and presented her flowers, obviously pleased at the compliment. “We thought you were dead, didn’t we mommy?”

“No, we didn’t Dawn,” Buffy replied in a slightly horrified voice. But Mrs. G didn’t seem to have noticed. She reached out and took Buffy’s hand and then she spotted the ring.

“You’re married. I’m so pleased, my dear. Who’s the lucky man?”

“Spike, Mrs. G.”

“Spike? Did I know him?”

“He’s here, Mrs. G. Do you remember he used to be you landlord?”

And so the conversation continued in similar vein for the next half an hour until Mrs. G. fell asleep once more. They chatted to Mrs. G.’s cousin for a while, enjoying the afternoon sun, and they never were sure if Mrs G. ever recognised Spike or not. She called him Jack several times, but then, she’d always done that. Eventually Dawn started fussing and they left to find a pub that served lunches.

Spike slipped his hand into Buffy’s and they strolled along the lane like any young couple in love. It always gave Dawn a fit of the giggles when he did that, for no reason he could ever work out, and he thought back to the first time he’d set eyes on her and Buffy.

It had rained in torrential sheets that day and the two of them had looked like drowned rats by the time they’d carried all their things up. She’d refused his offer of help and after they’d said goodbye to the young man who’d arrived with them they’d locked the door and he hadn’t seen them again for over a week.

The next time, Buffy had been sitting on the top step, and it was the first time he’d seen her cry. She hadn’t even bothered to wipe the tears away as he led her into her apartment and sat her down. They’d stayed like that for over half an hour before he’d patted her on the shoulder and left, not knowing what else to do.

And so it had gone on. She’d told him to go repeatedly in those early days, but he’d hung in there because he’d always known that they were meant to be together. Maybe it had just been a romantic notion at first. He was her knight in shining armour and it was his destiny to fight off those dragons and save her. He’d been like a guardian angel standing between her and her demons. And then he’d fallen in love with her.

“Didn’t she look old. And Edna? No wonder she never told us her first name.” Buffy’s expression turned wistful for a moment. “But I’m glad we came, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Don’t think she knew who I was though. I think it was Dawn she remembered most.”

“Yeah, got a nice photo of them together. I want Dawn to remember her too.”

“She will. Here’s the pub. You grab a table, I’ll go look for a menu.”

Buffy sat at the table in the pub garden, watching Dawn approach the play area. She stood for a few moments until a girl of about the same age bounded up to her and within minutes they were playing as if they’d known each other all their lives. It was a sight Buffy had almost despaired of seeing at one point. The point where she’d hit rock bottom and she’d gone beyond caring if she ever left the apartment again.

Then Spike reappeared carrying the menus. He stopped to make small talk with someone and as she watched him tilt his platinum-streaked head as he listened, a warm glow spread through her. A feeling of pride that this incredible man was hers and no-one else’s. And relief. That she’d had the good sense to take what he’d so insistently offered her. That she’d opened her eyes and seen him, after sleepwalking for so long.

“There you go. Food looks good.” He offered her the menu then stopped as he caught her gaze. “What?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Spike.” She leaned across and kissed him and he made a small sound of appreciation as he threw himself into it.

“D’ you think Dawn will stay with my parents tonight? Wanna take you out for a drive, show you all my old haunts.”

Buffy settled back down in her seat, opened the menu. “Sounds good. I’ll bribe her, that usually works.”

They perused the menus until she spoke again.

“D’ you think I’d make a good teacher, Spike?”

“Don’t see why not. You never told me you wanted to teach.”

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Spike. Do you think I could, you know, go to college at my age?”

“What, the ancient old age of twenty four? I think you could do just about anything you set your mind to, love. If it makes you happy then do it, you know I’ll back you up.”

“I think I’d like to. And I know you’ll back me up, you always do.”

“It’ll be hard work. What are you having then?”

“Tell me what isn’t. I’m going to try the Lancashire Hot-Pot. What is that?”

“Sort of a stewy thing. You’ll like it. Shall I go order?”

“Catch Dawn on the way. See what she wants.”

“What, on the off chance she doesn’t want chicken nuggets? I swear she’s gonna turn into one.”

Spike disappeared into the play area leaving Buffy alone at the table. The warm glow she’d felt when she’d watched him earlier was still there, so she closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun and simply enjoyed feeling it.

Going to college, or even UCLA eventually, that was scary. And Angel? Much as she’d have liked a clean break from him, he was always going to be part of the equation because of Dawn. And she didn’t even want to think of the reconciliation with her dad that he’d so desperately pleaded for. Not now when everything was so perfect.

It wouldn’t always be like this, she knew of life’s ups and downs as well as anyone, but everyone’s allowed their moment. And this was hers. The universe has a gift for everyone, she only needed to remember to be still enough to receive it. So she did.

A moment of perfect calm. A moment of perfect peace.

Spike loves Buffy and Buffy loves Spike. That’s just how it should be. And in this story, that’s just how it is.



The End.
Thank You for Reading

For Kella