Sunnydale. It was amazing how much this name meant to him, when there had been a time - not really so long ago - when it had been a strange name, a distant place. A dot on a map in a state he had never visited. Now, there was so much he associated with this town. Her, of course. Always her.

She was the reason he was back now, walking down Main Street, wondering if this town ever changed. Wondering if the Hellmouth had thrown anything particularly nasty the Slayer’s way since his departure. It seemed like nothing had changed since that day, many months ago.

The shops were all the same, so were the buildings, and even the people it seemed. It was getting late and already he could see those who knew about the true horrors of their town hurrying home, those who were sadly ignorant dawdling. He wondered idly how many of them would last the night. The attrition rate in Sunnydale was something extraordinary – but somehow, it never managed to draw the attention of anyone in power.

Except the Army, it seemed, who had a lot of interest in this little town in the middle of California. There was a lot to be learnt from this town. Or so they said. He wasn’t so convinced: he had suffered too much here.



Coming back was like starting over, daring himself to make a difference this time. To choose the right way. It hadn’t been an easy choice, walking away from what he knew, daring to come back and chancing it all on a slim hope. He had learnt a lot during his time away though: about loyalty, about love, about need. He felt like he had aged years in those long long months where his closest friends were killed, one by one. Those long, hard days had taught him to look back and appreciate what he had had, what he had lost.

And – foolishly, perhaps - he had tried to forget, tried to move on. The extent of his success in this was evident in his present situation: he couldn’t stay away, from her or from her town. Being on a mission barely a hundred miles away had proved too much of a temptation for this soldier and within the hour, he was finding the nearest transport heading here. He was drawn to the Hellmouth just like all the others who flocked here. Except with one vital difference: he was drawn not to the power of that evil place, but to the power of its guardian. The woman he had loved. Buffy Summers.



Buffy was always something special and with every day away, he realised just what he had sacrificed. She was an amazing woman, a warrior, a sweet girl – so many things all in one. It would have taken one hell of a woman to gain his attentions after the Slayer. He thought Sam might have been that woman. Had hoped she would be. She had known though, right from the beginning: he was still in love with Buffy. He’d tried to deny it, tried to hide it, but everyone in his regiment had seen it so plainly.

Sam had given him a friendly rebuff – and a lot to think about. Was there a chance he could go back? A chance he could recapture what he had lost? It became an obsession of wondering, picturing, imagining. He had to try - he knew that now - because he had to know. He had to know if it was only this one woman he could feel this for. He had to know for sure if Buffy Summers was The One. And if so… well, he wasn’t exactly sure what would happen then.

He couldn’t even picture their reunion at this point in time. He had walked bravely into her town with his head held high, with no real comprehension of what he was heading for. What would she say? Would she be glad to see him? Would she still be the same woman he had begged for a reason to stay? The questions were racing through his mind, taking over everything but the basic instincts that were guiding his feet through the streets of Sunnydale.



She’d be in a cemetery, of course. It was where she belonged, where she was in her element. He just wasn’t sure which one. He had already passed through three without seeing any sign of the Slayer on her nightly hunt. There were still plenty more though – and the way things were going, he would have something to do in each. He had already taken out three vampires, a Fyarl demon and something he couldn’t put a name to. The demons of Sunnydale seemed to be out in force tonight.

He took out another vampire as he was putting the moves on a young woman and after sending her on her way, he headed on, the anticipation starting to build. And in the next instant, there she was: a vision of blonde hair and dark clothes as she spun into view, tackling a large demon. He remained at a safe distance, watching her fight, revelling in a sight he hadn’t seen in some time.

If he noted a few changes in her style, a slight jerkiness in some movements, he shrugged them off, enchanted as he always had been by the way she fought. In no time, the demon was lying dead on the ground and she was brushing herself down with a satisfied smile. She nodded once and took off in the opposite direction. This was his chance.




“Buffy!” he called out, hurrying forward as she came to a stop and turned to face him.

Green eyes looked him up and down and her head tilted to the side as she considered him for a moment. There was a long pause and he thought he saw the strangest lack of recognition in her eyes.

“It’s me. Riley.”

“Riley,” she repeated, as if testing the name. “Riley Finn,” she announced after a moment, a wide smile spreading across her face.

“Hi Buffy,” he said softly, amazed at the warmth of her reception – but also somewhat relieved.

“You are a soldier,” she continued, regarding him still.

“Well, yeah,” he answered, wondering if perhaps she had hit her head in that fight.

She looked like Buffy, sounded like Buffy – but something was off.

“And you’re a big ponce,” she announced with a nod and a smile.

He frowned in sudden confusion and regarded this somewhat-altered Buffy. Had she really taken his leaving that badly?

“Goodbye,” she remarked brightly and turned her back on him, striding away with a bounce in her step.


He watched her for a few long moments and then broke into a jog to catch up with her.

“Buffy, wait,” he called out, catching her arm and drawing her to an abrupt stop, “What’s going on? I thought maybe we could…”

She regarded him with an expectant expression, that bright smile still spread across her face.

“Nothing,” he finished, his shoulders sagging.

This was not the Buffy he had walked out on.

“Okay,” she chirped up, “Goodbye.”

She turned on her heel once more and made to move away.

“Buffy, wait, where are you going?”

“I’m going to see Spike,” she answered with a bright smile, flicking her hair over her shoulder and moving off.

His dazed look quickly changing into a suspicious one, Riley followed her, wondering just when Buffy had grown so close to Spike. And how he could break the spell the vampire had obviously put on her.

He followed Buffy at a slight distance, taking her in stealthily. She hadn’t changed in all these months – even her hair was still the same length it had been then. She looked happier though, brighter and more carefree than he had ever seen her. There was, as he had noticed earlier, a bounce in her step that hadn’t been there before and he found himself musing upon what could have caused this change in her.

The last time he had seen her, she had been worried and stressed about her mother, but that girl was nowhere to be seen and he took it as a good sign for Joyce’s health. She was so much more beautiful like this, he realised – the smile that graced her lips lit up her whole face and there was a glow to her that he hadn’t seen in a long time. She looked like the young girl she had long ago stopped being.

God, he had missed her. He had missed watching her, listening to her speak, seeing her smile. It had clawed at him like a pain in the dark of night, making him restless, causing him so many nights of sleeplessness. How could he have been so stupid as to walk away from her?



In the midst of his musings, he suddenly realised with a start that they had reached the cemetery where Spike’s crypt stood, just a few metres away now. Buffy continued on with a slight skip and he followed with a frown, remembering with clarity his last meeting with the vampire.

That meeting when Spike had all but confessed his feelings for Buffy after a little introduction to the pointy end of a plastic stake. When he had been feeling so helpless that even sharing a bottle of whiskey with the vampire he hated above all others had seemed like a good idea. Spike had told him Buffy needed some monster in her man. Is this what this was, this thing with Spike?

Except he couldn’t believe it, not of the Buffy he had known. She had hated Spike just as much as him back then. She would never look twice at him. Would she? A love spell, that’s what this had to be. With an angry grimace, he sped up his steps, catching up to Buffy as she reached the door. She hesitated for a moment and he frowned, before pushing the door open himself and storming into the crypt, Buffy hurrying past him as he came to a standstill.



The crypt was dark, no candles, no television lighting up the shadows. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark and then he spotted him. Spike. The pain in his ass. Spike was slumped into his armchair, face turned away from then. He was silent for a long moment and then he spoke up loudly.

“Thought I told you not to come here anymore,” the vampire all but growled out and it took Riley a few stunned seconds to realise he was actually talking to Buffy.

“You’re such a sexy Big Bad,” Buffy simpered and Riley jerked his gaze to her in surprise.

She was smiling widely in Spike’s direction, but the vampire would not even look at her.

“Get. Out.”

He saw a distinct pout form on the Slayer’s lips, only confusing him even more. She turned to him and gave him a sad little sigh.

“He likes the other Buffy better,” she said sadly.


As he frowned at her strange words, he suddenly felt eyes on him and he turned, meeting Spike’s bright, curious gaze across the room.

“Soldier Boy,” Spike got out with none of his usual brashness.

“Spike,” Riley bit out.

Spike turned away again and felt around beside his chair before retrieving a bottle and downing a long sip. Riley took a wary step forward and regarded the vampire with what little light there was. It was with a start that he realised just how bad the vampire looked: drained almost and with the strangest look of desperation.

“Will you both just bugger off,” Spike growled angrily, taking another swig from his bottle.



Buffy’s pout caught his attention again and he frowned, turning back to the vampire.

“What’s going on here?”

“You were leaving, I believe,” Spike answered tiredly, “Make sure to take her with you.”

Riley just looked between Slayer and vampire for a long beat, confused about what was happening before his eyes. The vampire who had been half in love with his girlfriend now wouldn’t even look at her and his former love was simpering over a vampire. Something was definitely wrong here.

“I’m a Slayer,” Buffy piped up brightly, smiling between both males, “I kill vampires.”

She smiled widely and continued with eyes fixed on the vampire.

“Except Spike, because he’s so sexy,” Buffy continued in a confidential whisper.

All the warning he got was a low growl and then the bottle that was in Spike’s hand was flying through the air and smashing into the Slayer’s face. She dropped to the floor and Riley gaped in horror. He glanced at the motionless vampire and quickly dropped to a crouch by Buffy’s side, taking her shoulder and rolling her over.

What he saw then caused a sharp intake of breath: the skin of her cheek was hanging off her and underneath, there was metal and the unmistakeable light of an electrical pulse.

“Buffy?” he got out in surprise.



He looked up, startled, as Spike appeared at his side, dark eyes staring down at… Buffy?

“This isn’t Buffy,” Riley got out shakily.

“Five points for the boy scout,” Spike scowled, hatred in his expression as he regarded the injured fake Buffy.

“What is she?”

“Robot,” Spike mumbled, hands stuffed in his pockets, his whole frame wrought with tension.

Riley looked down at the still eyes of the Buffy robot and rose to his feet somewhat shakily. A robot Buffy?! What was going on here? He looked at the vampire again and took in with surprise the dark circles under his eyes.

“Where’s Buffy?” he asked.

Spike looked up slowly and met his eyes, his expression flooded with something that might have been pain.

“Gone,” he choked out, turning his back on Riley and moving away.

“Gone?” Riley echoed numbly, his eyes drawn helplessly back to the damaged robot wearing Buffy’s face, “What do you mean gone?”

Spike didn’t reply for a really long time and Riley looked up, searching for him in the darkness and finding him returned to his armchair with a new bottle of what now appeared to be whiskey. Without looking at him, Spike spoke the words that brought his world tumbling down around him:

“She’s dead.”

So, the git was back. Just when Spike thought there wasn’t much more that could be wrong. Just when he had settled into a pattern, had started to feel himself part of the group. He wasn’t stupid though – he knew how Soldier Boy felt about him and knew that Buffy’s friends would agree. Just when he had been making some progress. Riley was the safe option though, the one they could listen to without second-guessing. He might as well just leave town now.

Except he couldn’t, of course. There was one thing Spike was proud of in himself and that was loyalty. He had been loyal to Drusilla through years of illness, years of faithlessness. He had been loyal – to an extent at least – to his grandsire, despite his hatred for him. He would remain loyal to Buffy – to the promise he had made to her only hours before she plunged to her death. He would look after Dawn and keep her safe.

Soldier Boy could do what he wanted, say what he wanted, but Spike was not going to abandon the girl. He had promised, and to Spike, that meant everything. After all, it was the only thing keeping him going at the moment.



Riley had left some time ago now, guiding the monstrosity in front of him, the shock etched into his features. And for just the briefest second, Spike felt sorry for him. He hadn’t seen her fall, hadn’t seen her dead body, couldn’t accept that she wasn’t here anymore. But Spike, he had seen.

He could still see her lifeless form whenever he closed his eyes. He could practically feel the dead weight of her in his arms as he carried her silently home, the first light of dawn prickling at his skin but going unnoticed. She had been so beautiful, so peaceful – and it had broken his heart. She wasn’t supposed to be still; she was the Slayer and in all the time he had known her, she had never lost that fire. She’d come close plenty of times, but never, never had he seen her anything but one hundred percent in the moment.

And now she was gone. The words meant nothing anymore, not after months without her. Days without seeing her, hearing her voice. One hundred days, in fact. A hundred days of torture, of knowing that maybe he could have saved her. Of knowing that he would never now know if that crumb he had begged for would ever have been bestowed. One hundred days. Too many hours.



His life had slowed down to nothingness, drowning in a routine of patrolling, visiting Dawn and drinking. The latter was his chosen option for that evening. He had dallied with the idea of going to see Dawn, but now that Captain Cardboard was back, there was sure to be a sickening reunion. They would be so happy to have the soldier back, to have a leader – a human one at least.

He was content to avoid that and spend the night crawling into bottle after bottle, trying to drown out everything. Feelings and thoughts and emotions tore at him every minute but when he had drunk a certain amount, they began to fade and he could have a few hours of peace. Then he would sober up, or he would fall asleep and dream and his torment would start again.

One hundred days of this, and he knew he wasn’t in the best state. He could still fight, could still hold himself up when it counted, could still pretend he was the Big Bad. It was all a charade though – even more so than before. He was a broken man. He wanted to laugh out loud, wanted to pour scorn on himself for being just as pathetic as he had always been. He had always been Love’s Bitch and now it seemed he really had been a bad boy because she was surely going to kill him.



His bottle was empty and he couldn’t find another one anywhere in his increasingly messy crypt. Scoffing, he scooped up his duster, slid it on roughly and headed out into the darkness. He stepped out into the night and he felt a wave of nausea hit him along with the fresh air and then he was moving, striding through the cemetery. He could feel the telltale tingle letting him know that dawn was not far away but right now, that didn’t matter.

For now, all that mattered was getting a top-up and drinking himself into a haze. It was then that the memories seemed to come to him: all the many many pictures of her he had captured in his mind playing before him. It was the only time he could really see her. Sobriety and sleep seemed designed only to conjure up the image of her dead form, but somewhere on the edges of drunken unconsciousness, he saw her in all of her former glory.

Because she had always been glorious in everything she did: fighting, arguing, dancing, laughing. No wonder he had been so obsessed with her. He only wondered that he had lasted so long without falling in love with her.



Bottle in hand, he staggered back to his crypt, his feet pulling him along – they at least recognising the approaching danger posed by the sun’s ascent. He tumbled through the door and slammed the door behind him, shrugging out of his armour and sinking into his chair. The bottle was open seconds later and he took a large mouthful, savouring the rich flavour. It was good whiskey. Just not strong enough.

He took another mouthful, swallowing this one quickly and squeezing his eyes shut, as if he could hurry on drunkenness. He didn’t want to feel like this, didn’t want this darkness to swallow him up but it was hopeless. She was gone and what was the point anymore? She had asked him to look after her sister, but she hadn’t bound him, hadn’t forced him to stay. He could have walked away with a clean conscience (if he’d had one of those). She was gone and there was no reason for him to be here. She was gone.



The tears were so familiar he barely noticed them until their force had him struggling for breath he didn’t need. They tore out of his throat, turning into desperate sobs as his grip on the bottle loosened and it dropped to the floor. He brought one hand to his face, hiding from no-one as he sobbed in anguish, his body convulsing in pain. She was gone.

She was gone and she wasn’t coming back. He choked out her name and grabbed at his chest, wondering if a heart that didn’t beat could still stop working. A cry tore from him and he sank back into the armchair, unable to stop this torrent of emotion. She was gone.

The reunion with Buffy’s friends was one thing he had been able to predict: they had been surprised, but happy to see him. He couldn’t remember any of it though, had passed the whole thing in a blur, his mind whirring. He had stood next to the metal contraption wearing Buffy’s face and hadn’t been able to take in a thing anyone said to him. Xander was overjoyed, he noticed idly, but apart from that, their words went unheard.

All he could think of was Spike’s words. That awful, awful revelation. He didn’t want to believe him, could almost convince himself it was some horrible prank on the part of the vampire. But then he had seen Dawn and had noticed that sadness in her eyes. The sort of sadness a fourteen-year-old should not have to carry around. He didn’t need to ask for confirmation – but something in him compelled him to do so.

“Is it true?” he got out huskily, cutting into their conversation and making them all fall silent. They knew what he was asking without him saying so and when he saw the fake cheer disappear, he knew that she was really gone.

“She’s dead,” he whispered, half to himself, shaking his head in disbelief, “God.”

He wasn’t sure what happened next, but Giles was there, guiding him through into the living room, talking to him in a low voice. He wasn’t listening though, too caught up in misery to listen to the sage advice of Buffy’s guardian.



“How did it happen?”

He couldn’t seem to stop the question being torn from his tight throat, even as he saw her friends’ faces fall, saw them struggle with their grief.

“Do you remember Glory?” Giles asked, taking his glasses off and polishing them, so obviously uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Yeah,” he choked out, “Demon. Really really strong demon.”

“Actually, hell god,” Xander spoke up, a tight smile stretched across his face.

The words seemed to echo in his head, not seeming to convert into anything meaningful.

“She wanted to get back to her dimension,”
Willow continued, giving him a tiny smile as she moved into the room, the Buffy robot safely tucked away somewhere, “And she wasn’t going to let anything get in her way.”

He saw Dawn fidget nervously and felt his heart go out to the teenager.

“Buffy tried to stop her,” Giles continued in a strained voice, “We all tried to stop her.”

There was a long pause and he looked around the group, locked in their own private misery as he brought these memories back. But he had to know.

“Did you stop her?” he asked.

Giles paused for a moment and then nodded sadly.

“Glory was defeated.”

“Then how…”

He couldn’t finish his sentence, couldn’t say those words.

“She jumped,” Dawn spoke up, her voice so tiny as she lifted her head to meet his gaze, “The portal had to be closed. So she jumped.”

“Dawnie,” he heard Tara whisper from beside her, but the teenager continued.

“She died because of me.”

Dawn bit back a sob as she met his eyes and then she hurried away, her footsteps echoing through the house and cutting through the long silence.



After a long time, Giles was speaking again and when he felt his eyes on him, Riley looked up quickly.

“I’m sure you’d want to rest after your journey.”

“I-“

“You can stay with me.”

He wanted to stay in Buffy’s house, if he was honest, but he nodded silently, accepting Giles’ offer.

“Okay.”

He found himself rising numbly to his feet, following the Watcher silently towards the door. It was then that a sudden realisation came to him and with a frown he stopped, turning back to Buffy’s friends.

“Where’s Joyce?”

A shadow passed over every face once more and his heart skipped a beat. Poor Dawn.

“The tumour?” he stammered out.

Willow nodded sadly, her arm linked in Tara’s.

“When?”

“Not long after you left.”

There was no menace in the redhead’s voice but those words cut him to the quick. He had walked out right in the middle of all of this. What might have been different if he had stayed? Would he have been able to help?



As he left the house with Giles, he paused, turning to look at the window of the bedroom that had once been Buffy’s. Where he had stayed so many times. Where he had held her in his arms. And where she would never be again. This home had lost its heart and its strength, leaving nothing but a scared, sad little girl. He felt for Dawn and made a silent promise to himself to do whatever he could to help her.

That was as far as his plans went for the moment though. He had come to town not entirely sure of the outcome – but never in a million years would he have expected this. Buffy was… gone. And Joyce too. It was too much to comprehend. Everything in him rebelled against the facts but denial was too weak to conquer. He had seen the look of despair in the faces of Buffy’s friends. He saw the lost look in Giles’ eyes as he led him into his house and showed him the guest bedroom. And, God, even Spike. Now he looked back on his earlier encounter with the vampire, he saw everything clearer – Spike, too, was suffering.

It was a blow to the stomach, feelings too real to be ignored. Buffy was gone, gone for months now. He lay down on the neatly-made guest bed and stared at the ceiling mindlessly, struggling to absorb everything he had learnt in the past few hours. Never had he imagined this.



He realised then what hadn’t occurred to him before – the reason behind the robot. He wasn’t sure whose idea it had been, who had created it - but he knew one thing: the Hellmouth was unguarded. No wonder there had been so many demons about. A robot could not compare to the real thing. He saw it now for what it was: a decoy. A clever one, really. After all, no-one but her friends really knew Buffy and all that mattered was that the demons saw what they thought was the Slayer.

It wasn’t enough though, even he could see that. The Hellmouth needed more than one robot keeping it safe – especially if Spike was determined to destroy it. He was half-tempted to call in a few favours and get a regiment sent here to help out. The other half of him, though, didn’t want to leave it to anyone else. He wanted to do something to help, if only it was by lending his muscles to the guarding of the Hellmouth. He owed that much to Buffy’s memory. He had walked away and maybe this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t. This was his penance of sorts – a chance for him to try to put something right.

The next day, he followed Giles to the shop at about midday, a night of restlessness leaving him tired and sluggish. He was still reeling from the news that Buffy – his whole reason for coming back – was dead. He knew accepting it was not going to be an instantaneous process either. He just couldn’t seem to reconcile himself to the fact that she was gone.

It was easier to remember when he saw Giles first thing in the morning though: the Brit, although impeccably dressed already, was not the same man he had been before. It was obvious that he carried a great burden and Riley wondered if he too had spent restless nights struggling with his Slayer’s death. The Watcher hid it well though behind all that British reserve, serving Riley breakfast and happily telling him about the shop’s increasing profits.

On the way to the shop, he happily pointed out a few new shops and made conversation – but it was empty, even Riley could see that. It was his way of coping, of trying to keep living day after day. After all, Buffy had been like a daughter to him as well as being his Slayer – he must have felt like a failure in both ways.



They reached the shop and Riley followed Giles in, not surprised to see the whole gang gathered there, quieter than he had ever remembered them. What did surprise him though was the presence of Spike. The vampire sat on the stairs to the balcony, Dawn leaning on the railing beside him and apparently giving him a scolding. He looked tired, Riley realised idly, and he couldn’t miss the vampire’s bloodshot eyes.

When he raised them to Dawn though, something softened and the vampire gave the teenager a weary smile. She was not easily pacified though and she crossed her arms over her chest in a move so reminiscent of her sister that it sent a pang through him. He moved into the shop, greeting the others quietly, but his attention was on Spike and Dawn. Spike ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh before raising his head to meet the teenager’s gaze, his expression one of contrition.

She softened then too and with a tiny smile, she moved to the table, settling on it and opening up a book in front of her. The vampire watched her for a moment and then raised his eyes, meeting Riley’s as his expression hardened ever so slightly.



Riley held the vampire’s gaze for a long moment and then turned back to Giles, listening intently as he listed their latest successes on patrol. Giles then turned to Spike, surprising Riley with his next question.

“Did you get a chance to patrol last night, Spike?”

“No,” Spike answered quietly, “I was… busy.”

He glanced at Riley and then turned his attention back to the Watcher.

“I’ll have a swing through town tonight, see what’s about.”

“Thank you,” Giles answered sincerely, “It’s much appreciated.”

Spike shrugged uncomfortably, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Anyway, I should get going,” he got out, “I only came for supplies.”

He held up a small bag of what looked like some sort of weed in explanation.

“I hope you’ve paid for that!” Anya chirped up and the vampire rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I paid for it.”

He shook his head briefly and then raised his eyes once more.

“Anyway…”

He gave a brief nod of goodbye and turned on his heel, heading for the door to the basement. As he passed Dawn, he gave her a pat on the head and she turned to watch him go, big eyes watching him sadly.



And just like that, everyone went back to what they were doing. As if Spike hanging out with them and being civil was perfectly normal. Which, for him, was the strangest thing he had seen yet.

“Spike patrols?” he burst out, frowning in disbelief.

Willow looked up from her laptop and smiled slightly.

“He’s the strongest one out of us.”

“He also volunteered,” Giles added, “After…”

The Watcher could not finish his sentence and he cleared his throat and took his glasses off to polish them.

“And it keeps him busy,” Dawn added in a low voice, her eyes fixed on the book in front of her.

He regarded the girl for a long moment, until Willow’s voice drew his attention away.

“It would be a lot more useful if he’d stop trying to break the Bot though,” she sighed, “I don’t know how many more times I can patch her up.”

“He was really angry,” Riley added almost absentmindedly, thinking back to the night before.

“Yeah, that happens a lot.”

Riley paused for a moment, considering, and then spoke up.

“I thought he’d like it. I mean, she seems to like him,” he finished with a frown.

He quickly noted the coughs and uncomfortable shifting and frowned in confusion, looking around at Buffy’s friends.

“Am I missing something?”

“Man, you’ve been gone a long time,” Xander said cheerfully, coming up to him and draping an arm around his shoulders.



“Spike made a Buffy sex toy?!”

He couldn’t believe his ears, did not even want to think of the implications of what Xander had told him. Xander just shrugged and leant back in his chair.

“Not his greatest plan, it has to be said.”

“And you still let him come here… hang out with you?”

Xander shrugged again and smiled crookedly.

“I guess he sort of earned his place here, you know? I mean, Buffy thought so, before…”

Xander trailed off, a forlorn look crossing his face for a brief second before he forced it away, replacing it with his usual jovial smile.

“How could Buffy let him anywhere near her, after that?!” Riley asked, still bewildered by this newest shock.

“Well, it was a rough time, you know,” Xander explained, “And Spike… well, he came through.”

“You’ve got to have doubts about him?” Riley asked, lowering his voice, “I mean, seriously.”

Xander shrugged again and that forlorn look settled in his eyes once more.

“You weren’t there.”



He had never felt like he didn’t belong in this group until that precise moment. He had not been there to see Buffy jump and it made all the difference in the world. They had shared something awful that day – even Spike - and he could see how they were all clinging to each other, to the semblance of normalcy. He could never be part of this either.

He hadn’t even started to recognise the ache in his chest as grief yet, it was all too new to comprehend – whereas for them, it was an old ache, one they had borne out together for months now. He was an outsider and it was something he had never expected to experience here, with Buffy’s friends. He had always been so tight with them – but they had grown beyond him in their suffering.

They had struggled on in the days after Buffy’s death, they were still struggling now, trying to live their lives as if nothing had changed. And he felt for them. He wished he could have been there now, could have seen her one last time. He looked around the group and let out a sigh, a recognition that he was not a part of it. Not anymore.

As he parted from the group later that afternoon, he found himself wandering towards the university campus, caught up in his memories. Everything had seemed so simple at one time, but now he felt lost, lost like he’d never been before. Even after the Initiative had gone down, he had still had a mission, something to do. Now he had abandoned the mission and come back for Buffy – except Buffy wasn’t here. And God, that thought still didn’t want to settle into his mind as fact.

So what was he going to do with himself now? He knew he could go back to the Army, to his mission – but it felt like the easy way out. But what was there for him here in Sunnydale? He had grown apart from any friends still left here, the Initiative was gone without a trace and Buffy was gone. Buffy’s friends still struggled on though and it gave him an idea: what if he stayed here and helped them? He couldn’t lend much more than an extra pair of hands and an extensive knowledge of demons, but he was willing and able to fight.

And he needed something to do, something to preoccupy himself with. A little part of him also hoped that, by doing his bit to keep Buffy’s town safe, he might be able to make his peace. He might be able to come to terms with her death – and with his own departure just weeks before it had happened. There was nothing he could do to make up for that now – it was done, in the past – but he could work to make himself feel better about it. He could help her friends, who were so fatigued, so devoid of hope.



As night fell, he set out into the streets of Sunnydale, determined to make his mark once more. He had phoned Xander earlier and had discussed his idea, but Xander seemed to have no strong feelings either way. Without Buffy, everyone seemed to have slipped into being a paler version of their former selves. He strode through the darkening streets, confident, sure of himself. He was on the hunt - for demons, for peace of mind. If he could just get some action, he might be able to sleep better tonight.

He walked on through the town, turning through alleys and taking shortcuts as if he had never left. He strolled through a darkened alley, turned a corner, and came to a stop. Just up in front of him stood a forlorn, abandoned building – or so it seemed. From the outside, it looked just the same as every other old building on the street, but once you stepped inside, it revealed its secrets. A secret that had once been his, a long time ago now.

His skin itched with the closeness, as if it was an old drug that still held sway over him and then he turned his back on the building – only to be confronted with the image in his mind of Buffy’s horrified look. He felt a wave of anger sweep through him, quickly followed by shame, and he stumbled forward, desperate to get away from the scene of his undoing.



He collapsed against a wall just around the corner, resting his head against the wall, taking deep breaths. He had let himself forget about that place, about what he had done, but now his mind was swimming with images of Buffy’s face when she saw him in the darkness. And Spike right next to her – looking smug as ever. He shook his head, dashing the images to pieces and raising his head in determination. He couldn’t dwell on a past that he couldn’t change.

He moved on quickly, needing to get out of the town and into Sunnydale’s graveyards. He was still in a bit of a daze but as soon as he heard a telltale scream, he jerked his head up, the soldier taking over. He crept forward and pressed his back to the nearest tomb, scanning his surroundings and edging forward slowly. As he peered round the corner, he spotted the scrabbling couple up ahead and jerked back in surprise as the moonlight lit up the peroxide-blonde hair of the male.

The woman fell to the floor and Spike followed, grabbing her by the collar and lifting her to her feet, his fangs bared – visible in the moonlight even at this distance. After only a moment’s hesitation, Riley wrapped his hand around the stake in his front inside pocket and crept quietly and quickly toward the couple.



The woman kept struggling and managed to trip Spike, but he came at her again, determined in his attack. Narrowing his eyes, wondering how long Spike had been hiding this from Buffy’s friends, Riley crept closer, looking for his chance. As Spike fell to his knees, grabbing the woman by the hair, Riley took the opportunity and dashed forward, kicking Spike to the floor.

“What the bloody hell?!”

The vampire gave him a bewildered, angry look but before he had time to analyse it, he was being tackled to the ground by the woman – her golden eyes shining in the moonlight. She was a vampire! Silently damning his misjudgement, he struggling with the vampiress, trying to dislodge her from his chest.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spike getting to his feet once more and for just a second, it looked like the vampire was going to abandon him. With a roll of his eyes though, the vampire stepped forward and grabbed the vampiress, drawing her off and sending her flying. She landed a few feet away but before she could even move, Spike was beside her, driving a stake into her back. She burst into dust with a cry and he straightened, tucking the stake away and shrugging his coat back into place.

Riley scrambled to his feet and brushed himself down, slightly embarrassed by being bested. Spike glanced back at him as he lit a cigarette and regarded him with a blank expression.

“You’re welcome.”

A moment later and the vampire was off, disappearing into the night and leaving Riley shaken – and somewhat annoyed.



He would never understand Spike, he realised as he moved on through the cemetery. The vampire was one big contradiction that went against everything he had ever learned about vampires. He had the usual traits but there was something about Spike that made him unique: at times, he seemed almost human. And now, Riley couldn’t think what to make of him. He was quieter, less cocky than ever and the way he held himself – everything was at odds with the brash vampire who had laughed in his face and mocked him for not being able to keep his girlfriend happy.

The truth was that Spike was, well, crushed. He didn’t want to admit it, because admitting it meant that Spike had actually felt something more for Buffy than just lust, obsession. It meant he could feel in ways a vampire shouldn’t. But you would have to be blind not to see that Spike was grieving – and even Riley couldn’t make himself that blind. He just couldn’t comprehend how anyone who had never been that close to her could feel her loss so much. More even than he could feel himself.

Dawn was fed up. She was fed up of being alone, fed up of being afraid. She was fed up of being the only one who cried anymore. And, above all, she was completely fed up of hearing about Riley Finn. He’d been back for all of a week now and you’d think he was the best thing since sliced bread, with how excited everyone was about him staying. She, however, was not excited. She didn’t understand how Buffy’s friends could even talk to him – after all, he had hurt Buffy. Well, okay, she wasn’t exactly sure what had happened between him and Buffy but he had done the worst thing ever in the Summers’ book: he had left.

Everything had gone wrong after that: her mom, Glory, Buffy. And now he came waltzing back into town expecting everything to be the same as it had been then, but she for one was not going to forget. She could not forgive him for what he had done and, despite all his efforts to get in her good books, she was determined to hate him. After all, he must have done something pretty bad to make her sister upset like that.



She couldn’t stand the way everyone went on about the returned soldier. Riley this, Riley that. Oh, did you know Riley’s been patrolling? Who cares?! Spike had been patrolling ever since Buffy’s death and no-one had ever got excited about that. They just seemed to expect it, but then Riley came along and they saw it as this grand, noble gesture. It made her so angry.

She also didn’t like the way their attitude towards her friend had shifted ever so slightly since Riley’s return. They didn’t say anything different but she saw how awkward things were when Spike visited and Riley was there. Everyone would look sort of embarrassed, as if being friends with Spike was a bad thing. And even though he hid it, she knew Spike was affected by the whole thing, which made it so much worse.

He could pretend like he didn’t care, that he didn’t need friends – but she knew better than that. After all, if he was so happy by himself, why was he so pleased to have the company of a fourteen-year-old? He was the only one that understood anyway. Now that Riley was back, the others seemed to have forgotten that Buffy had ever been there, that she had been their leader. They treated Riley as if he was the new Slayer – a new leader, someone to follow. Spike said it was because they were desperate for stability but she didn’t consider that an acceptable excuse for behaviour. They seemed to have forgotten what they all shared.

Not Spike though. Spike never forgot. He hid it, tried to pretend that he hadn’t been crying when he obviously had, tried to pretend e didn’t drink himself into unconsciousness almost every night - but he never forgot.



What she hated most about Riley’s new role was that he seemed to have decided to take control of her life too. He was determined that she should be going to summer school to make up for her missed lessons – hello, she’d been kidnapped by a hell god! – and he always treated her like a little sister, asking after her, checking up on her. She was sick and tired of him. He had seemed so cool at one time but now she just despised him – even if a very secret part of her had missed him. She would never admit that though.

He would call her ‘kid’ and ruffle her hair and it was the most infuriating thing in the world. And everyone seemed to follow his lead. She had been treated as a grown-up before, but now she was back to being a child again and she hated it. As it continued, she found that the only place she could find any peace was at Spike’s crypt. And they even wanted to take that away from her.



She crept to the top of the stairs, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboard as she tiptoed forward, straining to hear the voices below her feet.

“I mean, he’s… she’s only fourteen… not a good idea.”

She tiptoed down a few steps and settled, focussed on the voices in the kitchen, trying to pick up the conversation as it wafted up to her.

“Giles, you can’t think it’s a good idea?”

“Well, I agree that it’s somewhat… strange… but Dawn has developed an… affection for Spike.”

“And you don’t think that’s weird?” Riley asked, “Surely you don’t think a fourteen-year-old girl should be hanging around his crypt?”

“I mean, it is a bit weird,” Willow spoke up hesitantly, “But they’ve been very close since… I think they… they look after each other.”

“Well, maybe we should be looking after Dawn,” Riley spoke up once more.

There was a rumble that might have been agreement but before she could hear their next words, a door opening behind her startled her. She bolted upright and tried her best to look innocent as Tara gave her a pointed look.

“Dawnie?” she asked with a tiny smile.

“I was just…”

There was no point even trying to lie to Tara and trailed off with a sigh, raising worried eyes to the blonde.

“They don’t want me to hang out with Spike anymore,” she whispered, nodding downstairs.

“I’m sure they’re just talking,” Tara soothed, even as a frown flitted across her expression, “They don’t mean it… I’m sure.”

“You know what he’s been like,” Dawn protested, “He needs someone to take care of him.”

Tara smiled and stepped forward, holding out a hand.

“How about we go back to your room and watch some television?”

She threw a glance downstairs and then turned back to the witch, smiling ever so slightly as she took her hand and followed her back to her room.



The next afternoon – when she should have been signing up for summer school – she hurried through town, to the cemetery where Spike lived. She weaved her way through the gravestones and approached the crypt, looking around her quickly before pushing the door open and going inside. She closed the door behind her and then scanned the room, her eyes coming to stop on her friend with a pained expression. He was passed out on the floor, a pile of empty bottles by his side.

She dropped her bag to the floor and went to his side, kneeling on the dusty floor. She considered for a moment before poking him in the side.

“Spike?”

He let out an indeterminate groan and she smiled sadly.

“Spike? You wanna get off the floor?”

He groaned again and then he moved, his head turning, sad, blue eyes fixing on her.

“I was just resting,” he got out lowly, struggling as he tried to push himself up.

“Liar,” she whispered, grabbing an arm and helping him into a sitting position, his back propped against the armchair.

He gave her a crooked smile that was more like a grimace and then closed his eyes for a moment, looking more tired than ever. She crossed her legs in front of her and just sat in silence, waiting for him to compose himself.



A moment later, she had to speak up.

“They don’t want me to see you anymore.”

He turned his gaze to her, his expression veiled.

“And ‘they’ would be?”

“You know who.”

He gave a disgusted cough and sank his head back against the chair. He tilted his head and his expression turned serious.

“Won’t let them keep you away, L’il Bit. Made a promise.”

“I know,” she whispered, holding his gaze.

He nodded and sank his head back on the chair tiredly.

“You look awful,” she spoke up.

She saw the ghost of a smile pass over his lips and she smiled too.

“Thanks.”

“You said you wouldn’t drink so much,” she said quietly, not meeting his gaze as he righted himself.

“I had a bad night,” he explained, “Sorry, Bit.”

She nodded in understanding and then turned her head to him.

“I should steal all your booze!” she threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he challenged with a raised eyebrow.

“Just you wait,” she replied, smiling widely and feeling even better when he returned his own tired smile.



They fell silent and she just sat watching him out of the corner of her eye, worried about her friend. Their silence was broken all too soon though by the sound of the door swinging open. They both looked up and she narrowed her eyes as she caught sight of Riley.

“Dawn, there you are!”

She crossed her arms over her chest but any attention that was on her quickly shifted to the vampire at her side. She thought she saw something flicker in Riley’s expression but then he turned back to her.

“It’s time you got home,” he said softly, “It’s getting dark.”

“I’m fine just here,” she retorted, raising her chin in defiance.

“Go on, Nibblet,” Spike spoke up, surprising her and drawing her eyes to his, “You run on home.”

She frowned at her friend and glanced at Riley before turning back to him.

“Go on,” he coaxed.

With a frown, she got to her feet but turned back to her friend. He looked so small, so helpless on the floor by himself.

“I’ll see you again soon,” she said, half-question.

“’Course you will,” he answered, favouring her with a half smile.

She held his gaze for a moment longer and then turned to Riley, marching past him with her arms crossed, determined not to enjoy any time spent with him.

Riley wasn’t quite sure how he had got into this situation. He had come to town about two weeks ago now and somehow, he seemed to have become the centre of the group. At first, he had been uncomfortable with their reliance on him, but he soon came to realise that it was because they needed someone to take charge. He was surprisingly ready to step up to the plate when it came to this – hoping that, just maybe, he might be able to be anywhere near as good a leader as Buffy had been.

It was difficult though, remembering that these were not his men he was in control of. If he was honest, he had got out of the habit of being around civilians and sometimes he thought it showed – especially with Dawn. She was so angry with him but she was so much like her sister even in that. He tried everything he could to help her, to make her life easier, but she resisted him at every turn. He didn’t know what else he could do and he had to admit, it was harder than he had thought it would be.

Dawn had once been so sweet, so friendly, but grief and sorrow had aged her, made her sharper, bitter. He couldn’t blame her though, no matter how much she acted out against him: she had lost her whole family and there was nothing he could do that would make up for that.



He worried about the teenager’s emotional state too. Like her sister had been prone to do, she bottled everything up inside and it seemed to make her mood swings that much worse. He almost wanted to smile fondly every time she flew off the handle – if only for the remembrance it brought of her sister. She was so much like Buffy and he wondered that he had never seen it before. She was just as stubborn, just as forthright, just as quick-tempered.

But then there were her quiet days – the ones that made him worry the most because she was so unlike herself. And these days always seemed to coincide with a visit to Spike. He had seen enough of the vampire’s grieving himself to know that it was not a pretty sight and he worried about the effect it might have on Dawn. She was determined not to spend any less time with the vampire though, no matter what he said, and in fact she seemed to view it as a challenge.

She would disappear without telling anyone, but she would always turn up at Spike’s. He couldn’t even count the number of times he had escorted her home from the vampire’s crypt. She was angry every time too – as if he deliberately wanted to sever her friendship with the vampire. She would rant at him the whole way home and he would not know what to say to pacify her. She seemed to have decided he was the bad guy, and there was no way to change her mind. A true Summers.



When she disappeared for the third time in a week, he was beginning to lose his patience. Despite her more than extensive experience with Sunnydale’s nocturnal dangers, she would always sneak out of her window and into the night, worrying everyone. This time, he was out already – patrolling – and as soon as he got the call from Willow, he turned in the direction of Restfield and Spike’s crypt. He wanted to be angry but after all, he’d majored in Psychology and he knew the grief process could take its toll in any number of ways. Dawn, it seemed, was acting out at everyone around her.

He sped up his steps as the crypt came into view and rushed to the door. He gave the door a cursory knock and pushed it open, stepping in and squinting to make out anything in the darkness.

“Spike? Dawn?”

There was no reply and he moved further into the crypt. He jerked back quickly though when the slab that usually covered the hole to the lower level was shoved aside. Spike climbed up out of the lower level, looking bleary eyed and dishevelled.

“She’s not here.”

Any relief he might have felt on reaching the crypt disappeared in an instant.

“Any idea where she might be?” he asked the vampire.

Spike paused, ran a hand over his face, and then nodded.

“Follow me.”

He grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair, threw it on in one swift motion and headed for the door.



He caught up with Spike quickly and fell into step beside the vampire, casually surveying the area as they moved through it in silence. He watched the vampire out of the corner of his eye, not surprised to see that he looked no better than the last time he had seen him. Although, at least this time he wasn’t about to pass out from drinking. He looked to be sober, for once, causing Riley to let out a little sigh of relief.

“Do you know what day it is?”

He jerked back to the present with a jolt at the sound of the vampire’s voice and turned his gaze towards him. Spike didn’t look at him but continued on his way, his hands stuffed in his pocked.

“August… 3rd.”

Spike hesitated for a moment and then glanced at him ever so swiftly before fixing his gaze on the path in front of him.

“Joyce’s birthday.”

He had had no idea and his eyes went wide with surprise that the vampire had remembered this day.

“Nibblet was talking about it the other day,” the vampire explained, “Talking about the last birthday and all.”

A muscle twitched in Spike’s jaw but he didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause once in his steps.

“That’s where she’ll be. With Joyce.”



For a few long moments, Riley was stunned into silence by these words but somehow he managed to choke out his next words.

“She talks to you?”

He’d guessed, of course, but he had been so worried that she had cut herself off from everyone.

“Sometimes,” Spike answered, “When she’s not telling me off.”

He saw the vampire smile ever so slightly and then it faded into his usual blank expression.

“She’s worried about you.”

“Had to look after myself for a long time now,” Spike murmured with a shrug, “S’not hard. She doesn’t need to worry.”

“Everyone’s worried about you actually.”

Spike came to an abrupt halt and turned to regard him in surprise.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Riley paused for just a moment as he considered his words – but then he just decided to get it out of the way, tact be damned.

“Spike, you’re a mess.”



The vampire went deadly silent and turned his back on Riley, his shoulders taut with tension.

“You need to pull yourself together,” Riley continued, his tone softening, “For Dawn, if not for yourself.”

He saw the vampire’s shoulders sag and he felt something like relief that Spike had even listened to him. The group as a whole had been worried about Spike’s behaviour but no-one had been able to talk to him about it.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Spike murmured, back still to him, fumbling in his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes.

“Buffy wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

Spike rounded on him all of a sudden, eyes flashing yellow.

“You don’t know anything,” he accused, teeth bared – and then in the next moment, he flagged, all of the energy sapped from him, “It’s my fault.”

“Excuse me?”

Spike threw a glance at him and then fixed his eyes on the ground once more.

“It was my fault. If I… It was my fault she had to jump.”

And now the whole reason for Spike’s excessive grief became clear: he blamed himself for Buffy’s death.

“I’m sure-“

“Don’t,” Spike barked at him, eyes flashing to his angrily once more, “You weren’t there, so you don’t know. If I’d just been faster, stronger… I could have… She wouldn’t have had to jump.”

Spike held his gaze for a long moment and then turned away, moving off again.

“Let’s go find Dawn,” he called, as if the conversation they had just had had never taken place. Riley fell into step beside him moments later, reeling with this insight into the vampire’s mind. Spike truly blamed himself for Buffy’s death – and it made the grieving that much worse. He couldn’t even imagine how much the vampire had tortured himself thinking about it. He was determined to give him a wake-up call though – he had been wallowing for too long. And Dawn’s worsening behaviour just might help, Riley mused.

He had never really imagined that his words might have an effect on Spike, especially as the two of them weren’t exactly friendly – but he was soon to be surprised. He was out on patrol one evening a few days later, making his way through Sunnydale with the robot Buffy beside him.

Willow had finally managed to put her back together and once again, she was out on patrol, tricking the demons of Sunnydale into thinking that their Slayer was still around. He was still disconcerted by just how like Buffy she looked, but as time had passed, he had begun to be able to pick out the traits that betrayed the robot: her strange phrases, her much girlier clothing, her different fighting style. He was honestly amazed that he had ever believed this to be the real thing.

Returning back to the present, he shook his head a little and continued on, sneaking a glance at the robot out of the corner of his eye. She was talking but he had learnt to drown that out too and he was focussed on his surroundings. Suddenly, her words penetrated through to him though.

“Oh look, it’s Spike,” she said happily, drawing to a halt and smiling widely.

He scanned the cemetery and spotted the vampire at a distance, kneeling down in front of a gravestone.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” the robot asked, but he drowned it out, his attention fixed on the vampire. He appeared to be talking, although there didn’t appear to be anyone around. Riley frowned, trying to puzzle out the scene as Spike laid a gentle hand on the stone.



A moment later, as if sensing that he was being watched, Spike stopped and rose to his feet stiffly. He brushed a hand over his face and turned towards them. Instead of turning in the opposite direction – as Riley had expected - he actually headed for them. He stopped a few feet away and, although he couldn’t be sure, Riley thought maybe the vampire had been crying. Spike gave the robot a cursory glance and then nodded at Riley in greeting.

“’Lo.”

“Hey.”

The vampire fell silent and stuffed his hands in his pockets, obviously uncomfortable.

“Hello Spike!” the robot said brightly and Spike glared at her, silencing her, before turning back to Riley.

“Wanted to say…” he started uncertainly, cutting himself off and starting again, “The thing is…”

He trailed off and let out a groan, throwing his eyes skyward before returning his attention to Riley.

“You were right,” he mumbled.

Riley was so taken aback that he had no idea how to reply. Before he could though, Spike continued, his eyes flicking to Riley’s.

“I made a promise and I wasn’t keeping it. I promised to look after Dawn and, well, she was more looking after me.”

He gave a tiny shrug and a pained smile.

“I’m going to do right now… by both of them,” he finished, eyes meeting Riley’s.

“Okay,” Riley got out hesitantly, still thrown off by the vampire’s burst of honesty.

Although, it did seem to be the vampire’s speciality, as he well remembered.

“Just wanted to say…” he paused, clearing his throat, “Well, I appreciate it. What you said.”

“It was nothing.”

Spike shrugged and stuffed his hands further in his pockets.

“Thanks anyway.”



There was silence as no-one seemed quite sure what to say – all, that is, except the fake Buffy.

“Isn’t his hair nice?” she remarked to Riley, flashing a bright smile in Spike’s direction.

The vampire gave her a scathing look that went unnoticed and Riley couldn’t help but smile. Catching sight of this, Spike glanced at him, his lips twitching with the start of a smile.

“Bloody thing,” he murmured, “Tempted to break it again.”

“We do kinda need it,” Riley pointed out, even as he smiled at the robot’s pout, a response to Spike’s words. Spike just rolled his eyes and pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. He tucked one between his lips and lit it, taking a long drag.

“He’s so sexy when he’s smoking,” the robot simpered and Riley actually laughed, unable to help himself.

“Seriously,” Spike groaned, “The witch could at least have muted her.”

“She wouldn’t be a very good replacement then,” Riley joked.

“She’s not a good replacement,” Spike answered instantly, his expression turning serious.

“No,” Riley agreed quietly a moment later, “She’s not.”

The robot gave a huff of protest and stormed off across the cemetery, leaving the two males in silence.



Spike watched the robot go and then turned to Riley.

“I could do with a drink,” he commented.

Riley gave him a pointed look and he rolled his eyes.

“Just the one.”

The vampire paused to consider and then continued.

“Fancy joining me?”

Momentarily taken aback, Riley recovered a moment later and nodded.

“Sure,” he said, surprising himself a little with his answer.

Spike gave a tiny smile and then turned, heading for the town. Riley fell into step beside the vampire, wondering if he was in some sort of surreal dream. He felt, not for the first time, a sort of strange affinity with the vampire.

“I think we hurt the robot’s feelings,” he spoke up musingly.

Spike glanced at him with a frown and then turned away.

“She doesn’t have feelings. She’s not real,” he answered bitterly.

Riley regarded the other man silently, realisation seeping into his mind.

“But you wanted her to be,” Riley commented softly, watching the vampire stiffen. Spike said nothing for a long time and focussed his attention on the path ahead of him. Finally though, he spoke up, decidedly avoiding Riley’s gaze.

“I did, yeah. But I learnt my lesson,” Spike said, giving a bitter laugh and shaking his head, “Nothing could compare to the real thing.”

“And you’d know the real thing how?” Riley asked in surprise.

Spike turned to him with a tiny smile.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You know I never had a chance.”

“Well, a lot has changed since I left.”

Spike paused for a moment and then nodded.

“That it has.”

The days passed and turned quickly into weeks and soon, it was as if he had never been away. His life had turned into a routine: wake up, go to work (he had found work as a research assistant at UC Sunnydale), dinner, and then patrol. And then, more often than not, a drink with Spike.

The complete change in the vampire’s attitude had been the most surprising thing about the last few weeks. In the space of a few days, he had woken up from his depression and was back to something like the old Spike. He was cocky again, arrogant, annoying too. And, surprisingly, the group were happy to see it. Things seemed almost normal again, with Spike back to being himself. The vampire hadn’t stopped grieving though, that much was clear. There were still times when he seemed out of it, or when he would be unnaturally quiet. And there were the times when he spoke of Buffy – usually over their regular drinks.

He never revealed anything intimate to Riley – instead telling him of the days when he and Buffy had been enemies – but the warmth in his voice was unmissable. His voice would crack with emotion, but he would continue, as if talking about her eased his pain somehow.

Riley could appreciate that though: just listening to Spike talk about a Buffy he had never met made him yearn to turn back to time, to stay at her side. They had had their problems, it was true, but things might have got better if he hadn’t walked away. It was his biggest regret.



He spent his patrols with the robot Buffy, ignoring her as best he could as he made his way through Sunnydale. She was irritating now, no longer an amusement and no longer a reminder of Buffy. She was too different. He saw now why Spike had come to despise the robot and found himself feeling much the same thing. But she had her uses and if it kept Sunnydale just that little bit safer, than it was worth putting up with her inane conversations. Most of them usually involved Spike anyway, which was not something he wanted to listen to.

He could quite happily share a drink or two with the vampire, but that was about as far as it went. They were not friends, never would be. They had nothing in common but a girl that was long gone. They came from different worlds, held different beliefs, wanted different things from life – or unlife. Somehow, though, they had been united by fate and circumstance. They both fought to keep the town that had once been home to a very special Slayer safe. They fought separately, each in their own way – but essentially, they had the same mission. They were there for Buffy and for the things Buffy cared about.



There was one thing they could not agree on though: Dawn. Riley was worried about her and wanted to try to find some sort of stability for the troubled teenager. Spike, however, wanted to leave her to deal with things in her own way. He did not encourage her quite, but he certainly never tried to put a stop to her antics. It was a fight Riley was doomed to lose though, he knew that, because Dawn would never listen to him.

She had softened ever so slightly towards him but she was still prone to sneak out at night. And, as before, he would undoubtedly find her at Spike’s crypt, dining on junk food and watching trashy television. It was another type of ritual.



Tonight, it seemed, was no exception. As soon as he heard Dawn was gone, he was on his way to Spike’s. It would be funny if it didn’t scare him every time. She knew the dangers, but it was almost as if she didn’t care. He made his way to Spike’s crypt, letting himself in and settling on a sarcophagus comfortably before even greeting the pair.

“Dawn. Spike.”

Dawn was sat cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in the television and gave him a tiny wave, not even looking away from the set. Spike turned to him though and smiled knowingly. Rolling his eyes and ignoring the vampire, he turned his attention to Dawn.

“So, kid, what time were you planning on going home tonight?”

“Dunno,” Dawn answered, shrugging, not even sparing him a glance.

“You know, I got you that cellphone for a reason.”

“Left it at home,” she replied with another shrug, turning to Spike, “Have you got any more chips?”

“I’m all out, Nibblet,” Spike said with a smile, “You eat everything I have.”

“I do not,” she protested, “Clem ate way more than me last time.”

Riley raised an eyebrow in question, regarding vampire and teenager’s interaction.

“Who’s Clem?” he asked curiously.

“Spike’s demon friend,” Dawn said, giving Spike a smug smile as if she could predict Riley’s next words.

“Demon friend?”

“He’s harmless,” Spike explained, giving the teenager a shove in the shoulder that made her giggle and return to her spot on the floor.

“Well, you’re supposed to be harmless too, but I’m never convinced.”

Spike turned to him and gave him a grin, just baring his fangs. He rolled his eyes once more and crossed his arms across his chest, watching the television for a moment.



It was always the same, every time he came to retrieve Dawn from Spike’s crypt. She would ignore him and he would wait patiently for Spike to finally suggest it was time for the teenager to leave. The vampire, of course, never liked to make it easy and seemed to get a great deal of pleasure from tormenting him.

“You comfortable, L’il Bit?” Spike asked, eyes fixed on Riley’s challengingly, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yep.”

“Well don’t fall asleep on me, eh?”

“I’m not a baby. It’s only, like, ten, you know.”

“Past your bedtime for sure,” Spike teased and Dawn turned to give him a glare before returning her attention to the television.

Riley just sighed and settled in for the wait. This at least was one of the better times – Spike and Dawn both seemed to be a good mood, which rarely happened. Usually, one or the other would be quieter than usual. They seemed to have this effect on each other: as if just by being together, they were reminded of what they had lost. It had brought them closer than any of the group.

Riley wanted to be annoyed about it, but found himself secretly glad for both vampire and teenager: they were both so fragile, but somehow they kept each other going. Their friendship seemed to have come out of nowhere, but it was a strong one. Riley couldn’t even imagine how much more they might have suffered without each other. Instead, they had this incredible bond, almost like brother and sister. And, if he was honest, it made him just the tiniest bit jealous.



“Don’t know about you, Nibblet, but I could do with some fresh air,” Spike spoke up, “How ‘bout we walk you home?”

Dawn turned to him with a smile and nodded.

“Sure.”

The vampire flashed him a triumphant smile as soon as Dawn rose to fetch her jacket and he rolled his eyes. A few minutes later, the three set out into the darkness together – an unusual group indeed. Dawn talked all the way home, regaling them with stories of high school, her bright mood making both males smile at her fondly.

In his mind’s eye, Riley pictured Buffy like this, at Dawn’s age. No doubt, she would have had the same preoccupations, the same silly crushes and grudges. It sent a pang through him and he closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the wonderful woman he had known. It was starting to hurt less now, thinking of her. He could at least look back on the good times they had had together.

“Well, here we are,” Spike announced, drawing him back to the present as they came to a halt on the Summers’ front porch. The door flew open almost instantly and a worried Willow appeared, looking over the teenager and breathing a sigh of relief. Dawn just smiled apologetically and flounced into the house, sparing Tara a wave before bounding up the stairs to her room. Willow rolled her eyes and smiled fondly.

“Thanks for bringing her home again. Both of you.”

“Anytime,” Riley answered as Spike just shrugged, lighting up a cigarette that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

They shared a few short words with Willow and then left, strolling down to the end of the path and pausing, ready to take off in their separate directions. Breathing out a cloud of smoke, Spike tilted his head and regarded him for a moment.

“Drink?” he asked.

“Read my mind.”

With a smile, the vampire fell into step beside him as they headed for the nearest bar in silence.

Even as his friendship – if you could call it that – with Spike progressed, things with the Scoobies were up and down. Sometimes he felt like a true part of the group, but at other times he still felt as if he were on the outside, looking in on their lives. They quite happily involved him in research and even invited him to hang out sometimes, but he still felt the tension of being not quite part of something.

Lately, it seemed worse than ever because whenever he went to the shop, they would stop talking and start a new conversation – as if he wouldn’t notice. The only time it seemed not to happen was when Giles was around, and he wondered if there was something he was missing. He knew better than to push though – that was never the way to get something out of someone – so he let it just wash over him, waiting for the day when they might let him in.



As he entered the shop one afternoon after work, he once again found that the conversation swiftly veered onto a new topic and he let out a tiny sigh, moving into the shop and greeting the group.

“Hey Riley!” Xander called, even as Willow gathered up a book and moved towards the counter, giving him a little wave. He watched her stow the book away out of the corner of his eye as he moved forward and dropped into a chair.

“So, how’s patrolling?” Xander asked, turning to him with a wide grin.

“Not much around lately,” he answered, watching Willow as she shared a look with Tara, then Anya, and then moved back to her seat.

“How’s the Buffybot holding up?”

He rolled his eyes and smiled slightly.

“I don’t know how you put up with her so long.”

The group laughed and he saw them share another quick look between themselves. A silence fell over the group and he watched subtly as Xander and Willow appeared to have a silent conversation. Finally, Willow turned to him and smiled.

“Hey, why don’t you come for dinner tonight?”

“Sure,” he answered, becoming even more suspicious at this sudden invite.

“We’re just going to hang out,” Xander explained, “Have some chilling time, you know.”

“I thought we were going to-“

“Anya,” Xander cut in, interrupting his girlfriend with a smile, “I just remembered. Didn’t you want some help moving things in the stock room?”

Anya frowned but as Xander rose to his feet, she rolled her eyes and turned in the direction of the basement door.



He turned back to the two witches, who turned to him guiltily and smiled.

“So, is it just the five of us tonight?” he asked conversationally.

“Yep,” Willow answered brightly.

“What about Dawn?”

“Oh, she’s going to Spike’s,” Tara explained, “It was her idea actually.”

“You know what those two are like,” Willow added.

“So Spike won’t be there either?” he confirmed.

The two witches shared a look and then turned to him with bright smiles.

“You know, I think he’d rather hang out with Dawn,” Willow joked, “He’s a bit more sociable now, but he still argues with Xander whenever they’re in the same room.”

He laughed along with them, but he could tell they were hiding something and he wondered if he was finally going to be let in on their secret tonight.

“And Giles?”

“He’s making his arrangements,” Willow said somewhat sadly, “He’s all set to go back to England. I don’t think anything’s going to change his mind.”

The Watcher’s announcement had been a surprise to all of them, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense to Riley.

“Maybe he just feels there isn’t anything to stay for anymore,” Riley suggested quietly.

“Maybe,” Willow answered quietly, and then moments later, she was changing the subject brightly. There was definitely something going on.



Later that night, he made his way to Xander and Anya’s flat, curiosity clawing at him. He didn’t know if he could even sit through dinner and make nice, he was so desperate to know what they had been hiding. He did not let it show though and he made conversation, ate his food – and waited.

They finished eating and everyone relaxed a little, several looks being passed between the group. Willow sat up a bit straighter and he regarded her silently, still playing the waiting game.

“Actually, Riley, we asked you to come tonight because we wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?” he asked with fake surprise.

“Yeah,” she said, looking around the group before returning her attention to him, “The thing is… well, we’ve been discussing this for a while now…”

She trailed off and looked down at the table for a few long seconds before raising her gaze to his once more.

“We’ve been talking about Buffy. And where she is.”

“Where she is?” he repeated numbly, surprised by this sudden twist.

“She jumped into a hell portal,” Xander spoke up, his voice wrought with emotion, “And now she’s…”

“She could be suffering,” Willow continued, eyes meeting his, “So, the thing is… well…”

“What is it?” he asked, dread settling his stomach as he tensed in anticipation of her answer.

Willow threw a worried look at Tara by her side and then with a tiny nod of determination, turned back to him.

“We want to bring her back.”



He must have heard wrong because she couldn’t have just said what he thought he had heard. His mind was ringing with the words and he frowned. This couldn’t be real.

“I know it’s huge,” Willow added, “But we have to save her.”

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even begin to comprehend what was happening. They said they wanted to bring her back as if she were on holiday in another state. But she was – well, he had no idea where Buffy’s soul was. Hell just didn’t seem right though. After a while, he began to notice the eyes watching him and he looked up, bewildered.

“I don’t… I just can’t get my head around it.”

“We know,” Willow whispered, “But I – we can do this.”

“You’ve already discussed it?”

“There’s only one more thing I need for the spell and Anya’s getting it,” the witch explained.

“And you’re only just telling me now…” he murmured, dumbfounded that they were so far along in their planning.

“We thought you had a right to know,” Xander explained.

He looked at the other man for a moment and then turned his attention on the group as a whole.

“What does Giles think?”

The group looked awkward and his eyes went wide with surprise.

“You haven’t told Giles?”

There was no answer but the silence was enough.

“And Dawn?” he continued, growing almost angry, “Spike?”



After a pause, Willow finally answered.

“We can’t tell them. You can’t tell them.”

“They have a right to know too.”

“I know,” she replied softly, “But we… they might get too… invested in it.”

“You mean they’ll get their hopes up and then you won’t know what to say when it goes wrong.”

“It won’t go wrong,” Willow answered forcefully, “I can do this.”

“If you’re so sure, why won’t you tell Giles?” he pushed and the witch paused, “That’s what I thought.”

“It’s just not a good idea,” Willow commented, looking around at the group for backup.

“The fewer people know, the better,” Tara murmured hesitantly, seeming uncertain even as she spoke.

“Well, I don’t know why you chose to tell me, but I wish you hadn’t,” Riley exclaimed, rising to his feet, ready to leave, “I didn’t want that privilege.”

He realised as he pushed his chair back in that his hands were shaking and he clenched them into fists.

“You won’t tell any of the others, will you?” Willow asked worriedly.

“No,” he answered woodenly, feeling drained of emotion, energy.

With a mumbled goodbye, he turned and left the apartment, his mind reeling.

Maybe letting Riley in on their secret hadn’t been such a great idea, Willow thought. She had been so convinced that he would understand. He had always understood before, but he seemed different now. And now she had one more person to persuade, one more person to prove her skill to.

It had been difficult enough persuading those closest to her – Tara in particular had her doubts. She had won them over though, eventually, and everything seemed to be going right. She was so close, she could feel it. She had brought Riley in because, to her, it had made sense. He would understand like the others wouldn’t. Like Spike wouldn’t. Like Dawn definitely couldn’t. But then he had surprised all of them with his reaction, his anger, his shock. And he had left without a word, promising not to tell – but she was wary.

And if word got out – to Giles, to Spike, to anyone – then everything she had been working towards could be ruined. Buffy would be left in that horrible place to suffer. And it would be her fault. She wasn’t going to let that happen.



She couldn’t stop Riley’s doubt niggling at her though, making her already restless nights even more so. She lay next to her girlfriend, unable to sleep, thinking everything through. She just knew she could do this. That it was the right thing to do. It was what Buffy would want her to do, she was sure.

“Hey you.”

Tara’s low murmur and the touch at her arm startled her and drew her eyes to her girlfriend.

“You’re all thinkey. It’s bad for you at this time of night, you know.”

Tara ran a hand over her forehead and she closed her eyes with a sigh, enjoying the caress.

“I can’t stop thinking about what Riley said,” she murmured.

“He was just thrown,” her girlfriend reasoned, “I mean, it’s a pretty huge thing.”

“I know,” she replied, “But I know I can do this.”

Tara said nothing but shifted closer, resting her head against Willow’s shoulder and wrapping her arm around her. Willow wrapped her hand around her girlfriend’s arm and smiled ever so slightly.

“I am doing the right thing, aren’t I?” she asked with a frown, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Tara hesitated for just a moment before she spoke up, her fingers tracing soothing patterns against Willow’s arm.

“If you think so, sweetie.”

She turned onto her side, meeting Tara’s gaze.

“She’s suffering, Tara. And I can save her.”

“I’m sure you can,” Tara soothed, brushing a hand over her hair, “It’s just-“

“What? What is it? Not you too.”

“Sweetie, please,” Tara murmured, taking her hand and drawing it to her lips for a kiss, “I just worry about you. It’s… it’s a whole load of magic, you know.”

“I can do it, Tara.”

Tara held her gaze for a long second and then smiled slightly, leaning forward to kiss her briefly before settling back in her position.

“I’m sure you can,” she whispered.



Despite her own confidence, and Tara’s reassurance, she still couldn’t get rid of that nagging doubt caused by Riley’s own doubt. It didn’t help that when she saw him the next day as he dropped by the shop to say hi, he was quiet and avoided her gaze. He was gone a few minutes later, leaving her to fidget nervously until Tara placed a calming hand on her shoulder. She looked up at her girlfriend and smiled, placing her hand over hers.

She then turned to Xander as he sat down opposite her, looking unusually worried.

“I’m worried about Riley. He’s still freaking out about… you know, the thing.”

He lowered his voice, even though they were alone in the shop, and looked around nervously.

“He’ll get used to it,” Willow said firmly, “I mean, he’ll have to once she’s back, won’t he?”

“Yeah,” Xander replied absently, still looking uncertain.

“I’ll bring her back, Xander,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his hand where it rested on the table.

He looked up and met her eyes and she saw all the hope and anxiety warring in his expression.

“I promise,” she declared.

He gave her a slanted smile and squeezed her hand, before rising to his feet and going to join Anya. As he left, her bright smile faded and she sagged a little, jumping when Tara’s hand brushed her arm. Tara sat beside her and took her hand, twining their fingers.

“I believe in you.”

She smiled sadly and rested her head against her girlfriend’s.



There was no more time to keep worrying, she knew that. It was time to act, time to bring back her friend. She had a few last minute errands to run and then she would be ready. Anya had procured the Urn of Osiris and now it was time to do this thing. She couldn’t keep waiting to bring everyone around: the longer she waited, the longer Buffy suffered. They would thank her when it was done. Even Riley, who still doubted her.

He had pulled her to one side earlier today and asked her if she really knew what she was getting into.

“I’m a powerful witch, Riley,” she had told him, “I know what I’m doing.”

“And are you… prepared?” he had asked.

“Of course I’m prepared.”

“I mean for if it goes wrong,” he murmured, looking around quickly to see if anyone was listening, “If it doesn’t work or… or worse.”

“I’ll handle it,” she whispered, forcing
herself to hold his gaze.

He had not seemed sure, but he had not said a lot more. It seemed he had kept his word and remained silent too, because no-one outside of their circle seemed to suspect anything. When she had asked Spike to watch Dawn in a few night’s time, he had made no comment out of the ordinary. So she was out of the woods. She could do what it was time to do. She could bring Buffy back to life.

He couldn’t stay inside, not tonight, no matter how hard he tried. Xander had called him earlier that day and told him that tonight was the night: Willow was going to do the spell. And maybe, just maybe, it would bring Buffy back. But all he could think of was the millions of ways it could wrong. That’s why he needed to be out and about, distracting himself.

He had contemplated inviting Spike for a drink but after some consideration had dismissed it – he didn’t think he’d be able to sit with the vampire and not tell him. Willow should have told him, damn it. She should have told Giles too, who knew so much more about this sort of thing. She was convinced of her own skill, her own power and there was nothing that was going to stop her. He just hoped no-one got hurt in the process.

This Willow was something new, something he had never seen before and it worried him. She was only a few steps away from power-crazed and he didn’t know if this spell might just be the thing to push her over the edge. He couldn’t keep thinking about this though, couldn’t let himself ponder the possibilities. He sped up his pace through the town and headed for the nearest cemetery, eager for action.



His wish for action, something to fight, was coming back to haunt him now. Demons on motorbikes was far too much action and there was little he could do but try to take them down one by one. They were marauding through the streets, destroying everything, causing chaos – and it was only when he saw them circling the robot Buffy that he realised what they had come here for. The Slayer, of course. A magnet for demons with an attitude and something to prove.

He didn’t have time to worry about her though and he moved on through the town, doing all he could to calm this madness. He managed to take out two demons with a taser gun but there always seemed to be more. This was too much to handle and he was close to calling in backup. He hurried through an alleyway and finally found the phone box he had been searching for – only, it was completely destroyed.

With a groan, keeping a wary eye on the demons at the far end of the street, he crossed over and cut through another alleyway. He needed Spike’s help – there were just too many. Perhaps the quickest way would be to go to the crypt. Or, no, he would be with Dawn if all the others were out. Turning his steps towards that side of town, blocking out the thought of why they were all out, he hurried along, fists clenched tightly.



He rounded a corner and almost collided with the Scoobies, all looking shaken and spooked.

“Riley, man!” Xander called out, “Have you seen all this craziness?”

“They’re taking over the town,” he replied, throwing a glance over his shoulder as the sounds of screams filled the air.

“We- we have to go,” Willow got out shakily and for the first time he noticed the witch’s condition: cheeks bloodstained, hands shaking, nose bleeding ever so slightly.

“What happened?” he asked sharply.

“It – it worked,” Willow breathed, causing his heart to miss a beat. He had been so sure of the contrary. He wouldn’t believe it, couldn’t even begin to think about it.

“We saw her,” Xander got out dazedly, wide eyes fixing on Riley’s, “But she was… she ran away.”

“She’s traumatised,” Anya added with a nod, “From the Hell experience.”

What Anya had said barely registered as he found himself gripping the wall nearby for support, taking several deep breaths.

“We need to find her,” Willow got out miserably.

He jerked his head up at that, the reality finally starting to sink in. Buffy was alive. And scared. And wandering around Sunnydale in a state of shock, no doubt.

“We’ll find her,” he said certainly, struggling to keep his voice even.



They spread out, fanning through the town in search of Buffy. He went off alone, lost in his thoughts, his memories. He just couldn’t bring himself to accept the truth, couldn’t believe he was really looking for a woman who had been buried in the ground earlier that day. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw her. Which could be a problem, because if she stepped out in front of him now, he probably wouldn’t even notice, so caught up in his shock. He walked the streets like a sleepwalker, vigilance lost to this awe. She was alive. She was back and she was still Buffy, by all accounts. She was here.

He was drawn out of his daze by the buzz of his pager and with a glance, he turned and headed back through the town. He met up with the rest of the group – all as unsuccessful as he – as he left the main part of town and they headed together towards Revello Drive. He could see Buffy in his mind, could see her how she had looked all those months ago and he felt his chest tighten with anticipation. He would see her again. It was a dream, too surreal to be true. She was alive and in the world again.



He followed the Scoobies blindly, only coming round when he finally caught sight of the Summers’ front door. What if Buffy was just inside there? He couldn’t seem to work his feet, couldn’t bring himself to move from his spot, just a few metres away from the door. Xander took a step back towards him and laid a hand on his arm, drawing his attention. The other man said nothing but his own wide-eyed look said enough. He was as scared and as excited as Riley felt. His head was spinning and he stumbled after Xander up the path, into the house.

He stepped over the threshold and was surrounded by the sound of incessant questions, shock rippling in every voice. There was a group in front of him staring into the living room and he knew. He knew before he rounded the corner what he would see. Buffy. He took a shaky breath and forced his leaden feet forward, coming to a jerky stop and turning his head. And there she was. Buffy.

As Riley watched on in awe, Buffy jumped to her feet, wide eyes taking in the group in front of her. Spike rose from his perch on the table at almost the same time and Riley found his dazed gaze flying to the vampire, only to find the same look reflected back. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment and then, before he could blink, Spike was dashing through the room and out of the front door.

Riley watched the vampire go and, several long moments later, finally turned back to the room, his eyes drawn to Buffy. A Buffy changed from when he had last seen her, but still Buffy. Her hair was longer, darker and there was something about her eyes, something in her expression that was new. He could only stare at her, his brain refusing to believe what his eyes were seeing: Buffy was back and she was standing just a few metres away, eyes flicking around the room nervously, seemingly unnerved by the barrage of questions and exclamations being thrown her way.



His gaze drifted now to the Scoobies, regarding them as they towered over the shell-shocked Slayer, asking her question after question as she sank down onto the sofa. Buffy looked smaller than ever and more scared than he had seen her, but somehow, in the next moment, she drew upon some courage and got to her feet.

“I think I just want to go to sleep,” she mumbled uncertainly.

There was another barrage of noise from her friends but after Buffy repeated her plea of tiredness, there was momentary silence. The group parted and Buffy edged through, making her way swiftly up the stairs. Riley heard the others go back to their exclamations, but his eyes were fixed on Buffy.

She stopped at the top of the stairs and, as if sensing his gaze, turned to look at him, tired eyes taking him in for the first time. There was the slightest flash of recognition, but then her expression settled into a blank mask that sent a chill through him. She finally turned and slowly moved away along the hall, leaving him with an unsettling feeling in his stomach.



“Hey Riley, what do you think?”

He was jerked back to reality at the sound of Xander’s voice and he turned back to the group, throwing one last fleeting glance at the stairs.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, suddenly realising that he had been asked a questions.

“What do you think?” Willow echoed, watching him with pleading eyes, “About Buffy? She… she seems like Buffy, right?”

“She’s the same, right?” Xander added.

He wanted to laugh but when he saw the serious look on their faces, he paused.

“I… I don’t know,” he murmured, quickly continuing when he saw their faces drop, “I mean, I wasn’t here when…”

“Yeah, of course,” Willow quickly said, her confidence returning, “She… she’s fine. She’s just adjusting.”

“I’m sure she just needs some time,” Tara added, rubbing Willow’s shoulder soothingly.

“The most important thing is that she’s back,” Xander commented, looking to Anya for confirmation.

Unable to bear it any longer, Riley turned towards the door.

“Excuse me, I need some air.”



He stumbled out through the door and down the steps almost blindly, breathing heavily. He came to a halt, one hand braced against the main post of the terrace – and straightened up with a start as he spotted a figure in the shadows a few steps away.

“Spike?”

The vampire straightened and turned to him, his face set in a grim expression, emotions warring in his eyes.

“Did you know?”

“I knew,” Riley admitted, “But I… I didn’t realise… I didn’t think it would work.”

With a sigh of defeat, Spike turned away, obviously struggling with his emotions – Riley hadn’t missed the redness around his eyes.

“It didn’t work,” the vampire mumbled after a silence, “Did you see her?”

“It was her, wasn’t it?” Riley pointed out.

“If you believed that, you’d be in there celebrating with the others,” Spike commented, pulling out a cigarette and tucking it between his lips as he lit it.

Riley let out a sigh and sank to the steps of the porch, running a hand through his hair.

“I just can’t believe this,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

Spike leant against the tree a few metres away and threw his head back, his jaw clenching as he fought his emotions once more.



“Were you there?” Spike asked after another long silence, piercing gaze fixing on his.

“No.”

Spike nodded and took a drag on his cigarette, the tension in him evident even despite his façade of nonchalance.

“Stupid children!” Spike bit out suddenly, startling Riley with his anger.

He spun and punched the tree as Riley looked on in surprise.

“Spike?”

The vampire turned to him angrily and he recoiled ever so slightly.

“Do you realise what they did?!” he exclaimed, beginning to pace in his anger, “What they did to her? They left her in the ground, dammit!! They left her in the ground so she had to climb her way out.”

Spike finally came to the end of his rant and stopped, eyes fixed on his with a pained expression.

“She had to climb out of her own grave,” he murmured, his voice softening.

“She… what…”

Riley was shocked that Buffy’s friends had missed out such an important detail and had no idea what to say to pacify the vampire.

“Her hands…” Spike mumbled, turning away and throwing another punch at the tree, “Stupid, foolish children.”

Riley watched Spike’s tense back for a few long moments and then rose to his feet.

“She’s back now,” Riley spoke quietly, drawing the vampire’s pained eyes back to his, “That’s all that matters. And she’s going to need people to be there for her.”

“Well good luck with that,” Spike spat out, throwing his cigarette to the floor and stamping on it angrily, “I won’t be allowed near her.”

“Things are different now,” Riley commented.

“You just wait and see,” Spike answered, shaking his head, “Nothing’ll have changed.”



Before Riley could answer, the door behind him opened and he turned to find Xander and Anya leaving the house. They both stopped as they caught sight of Riley and Spike and Xander frowned, throwing a quick look between them.

“What’s going on?”

“You brought her back,” Spike almost growled, moving closer, “You brought her back and you didn’t tell me.”

“Well, yeah but-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Spike bit out.

“Look, we just didn’t,” Xander sighed, “We didn’t even know we were going to go through with it until, like, a few days ago.”

“And that makes it okay?!” Spike cried angrily.

Taking a step towards the vampire, Riley held out a hand in an attempt to calm him.

“Spike, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! You don’t realise how serious this is, do you?!”

“Spike-“

“That’s the thing about magic. It always has consequences,” he growled, turning on his heel and striding away, “Always!”

Spike was soon gone in a cloud of smoke from his stolen motorbike’s wheels, leaving the three of them in a tense silence. Riley couldn’t help but wonder if the others had taken in Spike’s words as much as he had.

He had stayed away for three long days, three endless days spent struggling with the truth: Buffy was alive. She had climbed out of her grave and was walking around Sunnydale once more, as if she had never been gone. He simply couldn’t bring himself to comprehend what had happened and even more so what Buffy must have gone through, must still be going through.

So he had stayed away, afraid of what he might find – afraid of seeing that blank look still haunting her expression. She had changed, it was clear, and he was afraid to find out just how much. What kind of emotional trauma would she be suffering after a trip to Hell and back? How would she adjust to life once more? Would she ever be the same as before? He had no answers for his questions: none of his study of Psychology had ever covered anything like this.

There was only one person he knew who had any idea what Buffy was going through – because he too had once had to crawl out of his own grave, many years ago now. Spike had been nowhere to be found in the last few days though and Riley couldn’t help but worry about how the vampire might be coping. He had been so angry the other day, so evidently upset by the circumstances surrounding Buffy’s resurrection.

Spike was sure to be suffering as much as he was, if his original reaction was anything to go by. Riley had seen no sign of him though: when visiting the vampire’s crypt the night before, he had found nothing but a mess of empty bottles. It was a different type of grieving, but there was no doubt in Riley’s mind that it was anything else.



For his part, disbelief was playing more of a role than grief. It had finally got to the point where he could not bear to stay away any longer – he had to see Buffy, even if he was scared of the Buffy he might find. He had to see her, to know that he hadn’t dreamt the events of the other day. He needed the confirmation of what he already knew because he was still too overwhelmed to process his reunion with her.

So this was how he found himself hurrying through Sunnydale just after noon, heading for the shop after an unsuccessful trip to the Summers’ house. He slipped through the familiar alleys, weaving his way towards the shop, desperate now to see this resurrected Buffy. He needed to hear her voice, needed to know that he hadn’t been tricked with the robot. It couldn’t be though – he had seen Buffy, the real Buffy.

He knew it, yet some part of him doubted – the part of him that was still a naïve boy from Iowa. How could Willow so simply have brought a dead person back to life? The magic involved was beyond his comprehension, beyond anything he had ever known and it made the whole thing that much harder to believe: in the world of that simple Iowan boy, magic was a thing of fantasy and resurrection was the work of God.



He was nearing the shop now and he felt his whole body tense in anticipation. He would see her once more and he would know for certain that Buffy had been returned to them. He rounded another corner and collided with someone coming in the opposite direction. He went to steady the other person and jerked his gaze up in shock as he came face to face with Buffy. For a long moment, all he could do was take her in silently, wide eyes flicking from head to toe.

“Buffy,” he got out, his voice barely a whisper.

She slipped her arm out of his grasp and took a step back, eyes flicking to his and away again. She wrapped her arms around herself, looking awkward, uncomfortable, and he realised he was still staring at her. To his surprise, before he could say anything, it was she that spoke up in a quiet voice.

“I heard you came back.”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, her gaze not meeting his.

“Another thing that’s changed.”

She shook her head a moment later and raised her eyes to his finally, her expression still unnervingly blank.

“How long have you been back?”

“Almost two months now,” he answered, trying to puzzle out this new version of Buffy. She seemed distracted and there was a troubled look wrinkling her brow.

“That’s good,” she answered absentmindedly.



There was a long silence and he couldn’t help but take her in, mentally spotting differences between then and now. The silence stretched on though and, seeing that her gaze was fixed on the floor, he spoke up.

“And you… how are you?”

He wanted to kick himself for asking such a stupid question but this Buffy left him lost for words in a way the old Buffy never had. She raised her eyes to his and gave him a half smile.

“I’m okay.”

He regarded her for a moment, considering the truth of this statement. She looked normal enough, but her bland expression was still troubling him.

“I mean, I’m coping,” she added, as if guessing his thoughts.

“I’m glad,” he murmured.

There was another pause, soon broken as the words came from him unbidden.

“If you ever… I’m here, if you need anything,” he said softly, “If you need to talk or…”

He trailed off uncertainly as emotionless eyes regarded him.

“I really have to…” she suddenly got out, gesturing past him.

“Of course. I mean-“

“I’ll see you.”

Before he could say anything, she was gone, leaving him staring after her in a daze. She was Buffy, that was certain – but a Buffy so altered as to be almost unrecognisable. She was so quiet, so uncertain and so easily spooked – a shadow of the Slayer she had once been.



He shook off his daze and turned back to the path in front of him, his mind whirling with thoughts. He made his way further along the alleyway and rounded the last corner, coming to a stop as he spotted a figure in front of him once more. He stood stock-still as he took in Spike’s hunched figure.

The vampire sat on a nearby crate - just outside the shop’s back door - with his head buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. His head whipped up as he sensed Riley’s presence and he wiped a hand quickly over his eyes, by no means erasing the signs of his distress. It wasn’t difficult to guess that Spike had had an encounter with Buffy only minutes before and Riley only wondered what had upset the vampire so much.

Spike got to his feet and pulled out a cigarette, obviously fighting for a calm that he did not feel.

“Alright,” he called in greeting, giving Riley a slight nod.

“You’re out early,” Riley commented, glancing up at the bright sky.

Spike shrugged, thrusting his free hand in his pocket.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Seeing that Spike was not in the most sociable mood, he made a few steps towards the shop.

“Well, I’m heading inside. What about you?”

“I’ll pass,” Spike replied with a scoff, “Scoobies will be patting themselves on the back still.”

After this statement, Spike quickly turned, rounded a corner and disappeared into the shade, leaving him to ponder on these words. It seemed there was more going on than he had any idea of and not for the first time, he felt like he was on the outside, looking in – and struggling to understand what he was seeing.

Giles was glad to be back. More than glad. England had seemed so dull, so empty, only making the ache caused by his loss worse. Despite this, he could only be half-glad of the reason for his return: Buffy. She was alive and dear Lord, it was still difficult to believe, even after seeing her in the flesh.

He had not seen her in months and had thought never to see her face again – and there she had been, standing just across the room with a dazed look much like his own. Alive and looking well, as far as he could tell. But then, Buffy had always been one to shield her emotions, even from her closest friends – at least in recent years it had seemed so. There was no way he could tell, no visible signs of what she might have experienced and he knew better than to ask. Whatever she had suffered, she would tell it if she chose to.

He for one was not sure he wanted to know what torments she might have gone through, how long she had been lost. All that mattered now was that she was back. The call from Willow had thrown his colourless life into disarray, shocking him, angering him, bewildering him – all at the same time.



Ah Willow. The reason he could not be completely happy with what had happened – despite his joy at the end result. The risk involved in a spell of that kind was phenomenal and no-one seemed to realise, not even the naïve girl herself. His knowledge of resurrection spells was not all-encompassing but he knew enough to know that bringing a person back to life required a magic so close to dark magic that it made him uncomfortable. There were sacrifices to be made and a number of dangerous ingredients were needed.

Willow had done all of this with no thought for the potential danger involved and it made him angry. The number of things that could have gone wrong was also weighing him down. They had been lucky though and everyone had come away from the spell unscathed. It could so easily have been much worse though. The witch was an amateur and an arrogant one at that. She had no real idea of the consequences of magic – that much had been clear when he had heard of the spell’s unfortunate side-effect.

She thought little of the importance of using her power appropriately and when he thought about it, it had often been so. His only hope now was that the spell had been completely successful and that Buffy would not have suffered.



By all appearances, Buffy seemed to be coping well, considering what she had been through. She was quieter, it was true, but she had been back so little time and was likely still adjusting. Her humour, it seemed, was still intact. The pressure was building on her in other areas though, as it soon became clear as she had helped him to prepare the sofa for his first night. Money was tight and the burden was pressing down on her shoulders already.

He had had no idea himself that money had become an issue before he left for England, had rarely heard Willow or Tara mention it. He wished they had now, so he could have stepped in and helped before it got to the desperate situation facing Buffy. Yet another reason to feel resentment towards the witches, but he clamped down on this – they were simply naïve and did not truly understand what it cost to run a house and raise a teenage girl.

Unfortunately, that mistake was now falling at Buffy’s feet, adding just one more thing to the growing list that she had to deal with. Despite her chirpiness, he could see her struggling under the strain and was already beginning to work out a way to help her get back on her feet. With all of his savings now in England though, it was a difficult task, thanks in part to the ridiculousness of English bureaucracy that made getting his own hard-earned money a complicated process. Until then, he was thinking of ways for Buffy to help herself as much as possible – ways to make her future more secure.



When she returned from visiting Angel, he decided to address this with her. As they politely picked at the chicken she had brought home, he spoke up.

“Buffy, there was some discussion in your absence… about what you’re going to do now,” he started uncertainly, not sure how to broach the delicate subject, “You know… your plans.”

At first, he was pleasantly surprised as she admitted that she too had been thinking about it but as she continued, his heart sank.

“…Yeah, so I figure if I hold off paying the plumber, I can pay the utility bill. And then I can wait ton re-shingle the roof until we get the refund back-“

“I meant… with your life,” he interrupted, the enormity of the situation now dawning on him as she listed the bills yet to be paid. He would be on the phone to his bank first thing in the morning.

“I have no idea,” Buffy admitted after a few moments and he saw the way her shoulders squared as she looked up at the group, ready to defend herself.

Immediately, he felt annoyed with himself for bringing the subject up, especially in front of the group.

“I guess, um, well I left school, you know, when Mom got sick, but I always figured I’d go back… and then she…”

Buffy paused uncomfortably, a shadow of grief flitting across her face and softening his own expression.

“Um, so I was thinking about re-enrolling, but I missed the registration cutoff. Busy being dead and all.”

He couldn’t help but wince at her blunt statement, even if he knew it was just his Slayer’s way of dealing with things. He listened as Willow and Tara suggested Buffy sit in on their classes and saw the carefully veiled hope in her expression.

“Yeah that sounds like a good plan,” she murmured, “What do you think, Giles?”

Still lost in his own reverie, wondering just how the young girl he had met had turned into such a strong woman, he only nodded in answer. He would definitely be on the phone first thing tomorrow.

He had seen little more of Buffy since their awkward meeting in the alley but he had heard about her from her friends and knew that she was struggling – with money, with bills, with a flooded basement. More than before though, he felt his central place in the group slipping away with every day that Buffy was back and it made him unsure of himself, of his position. He wanted to help, wanted to step in and do something to help Buffy but he had no idea what – and if she would appreciate the offer. She had always detested asking for help and he suspected this had not changed in the months of his absence and her death – that much, at least, remained the same.

Knowing couldn’t stop him from wishing he could do something though and he felt helpless. But he was determined to keep his distance – as much as possible – to give Buffy the space she likely needed and although he had spotted her at a distance on patrol a few times, he had not dared to approach her once more.

Truth be told, he was still afraid to face this Buffy who was so unlike the one he had known. It had given him a shock to the system, seeing the first signs of what this new Buffy would be like, and he was still reeling from the realisation that things really had changed.



Nonetheless, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, despite all of his self-made promises and declarations. Buffy being back amongst them once more threw everything that had become normal into relief, highlighting just how different things had been when she was gone. Even his own role had been cast in doubt: now that the Slayer was back, there was little need for superfluous demon hunters.

However, leaving town was no more an option now than it had been a few months ago – just for different reasons. He no longer needed to look out for Dawn, with her sister returned, nor for the town, with its protector back – but it was this exact thing that kept him from leaving. After all, Buffy had been the whole reason he had returned to this town, desperate to re-capture what he had lost. Thinking of this new Buffy though, he could not see the way ahead clearly. She was so unlike the girl he remembered and yet, he still felt a warmth deep in his stomach at the idea that Buffy was in the world once more.

He just wished there was something he could do, some way he could help her, ease her burden. He hadn’t even talked to her since that day in the alley but he wanted to be there somehow. He feared it would be difficult to get close to Buffy now though, after all she had been through, and he would almost be resigned to this, except for the dull murmur in his heart that told him not to give up so easily.



After a morning of being distracted by thoughts of Buffy, he finally escaped his office and strode through the halls of the university, his sights set on the sunlit campus grounds. He took a step out into the fresh air and let out a deep, calming breath, before strolling over to a table and sitting down.

He just needed a few minutes of fresh air to try to clear his muddled thoughts. He stretched out his legs and jumped when they made contact with something under the table. He quickly ducked his head down and his eyes went wide with surprise as he spotted Buffy.

“Buffy?!”

She whipped her head up to meet his puzzled gaze and with a sheepish smile, crawled out from under the table. Getting to his feet quickly, he held out a hand and helped her up, watching her in confusion.

“Okay, I know this looks weird,” she started, releasing his hand quickly and brushing herself down, “But time went all… wonky. And I think it was something on my sweater.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, “Maybe you should sit down.”

She moved to sit down but sent a frown his way as he joined her.

“Don’t look at me like I’m freak-o-girl. Something really weird is going on.”

He shook off his confusion and studied her, simply amazed by the change in her attitude in a matter of days.

“What did you mean something on your sweater?” he asked, forcing his attention back to the present.

“There was a buzzing noise and then I found this thing on my sweater,” she explained, placing the garment on the table between them, “Then it, erm, exploded.”

“Exploded?”

“Okay, again with the freak look.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, unable to stop a smile from tugging at his lips.



Buffy looked away and stared down at her sweater, letting out a sigh.

“Maybe I’m just going crazy.”

“I’m sure there’s a reason behind the, erm, exploding something,” he soothed.

She rolled her eyes and sent him a wry smile.

“Thanks for the attempt at pacifying the crazy girl.”

She pushed herself to her feet then and picked up her sweater.

“I better get going anyway. I completely lost Tara.”

“Okay, sure.”

She turned to go but paused, turning back to look at him.

“I didn’t get a chance to say this before… but it’s good to see you,” she said quietly

He was momentarily silent but then gave her a slight smile.

“Same.”

She smiled that half-smile once more and then turned, making her way back across the campus as he watched her go.



If his thoughts had been confused before, now they were even more so. The Buffy he had just encountered had been so different from just a few days ago – in fact, she was something like herself again. There had even been glimpses of that flirty, witty girl he had first met and it stunned him. Just a week ago, she had been a shadow of herself and he had been astonished by the change in her – and now here she was, acting just as she ever had done.

If it weren’t for the fact that he now knew the robot had been destroyed on the night of Buffy’s resurrection, he might have thought the fake Buffy had just been here. She had been cheerful almost, showing none of the blankness that had so unnerved him before. She was full of life once more and he was glad to see it – he just hoped it lasted and that she would not revert to that quiet, scared girl once more. His Buffy was back, and there was no way he wanted to lose her again.

After pondering on the complete change in Buffy for far too long, Riley had decided that he needed a drink. A drink and maybe someone to help him makes sense of it all. Someone who had an insider perspective of coming back from the dead, so to speak.

So that night, he found himself weaving through the graveyard where Spike’s crypt stood, heart and head both needing a break from over-thinking. He just couldn’t understand how her mood could have changed so completely – and he still wasn’t entirely sure it hadn’t all been a show of cheerfulness. He wanted someone else’s view of what Buffy was going through and - even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud - he wanted to check up on the vampire. He hadn’t seen Spike in days and that was usually a bad sign.

So he made his way through the dark graveyard and came up to the vampire’s door, not sure what he might find inside. He pushed open the heavy door, stepping through the shadows and into the flickering candlelight that lit the crypt – and came to a surprised halt.

“Buffy?!”

Not for the first time, he had found her in the most unexpected of places: she was perched on a sarcophagus, facing Spike, a tumbler in one hand and a flask in the other. She stopped mid-pour and her head whipped up, her eyes going wide with surprise and a moment later, narrowing in confusion.

“Okay, you sound surprised to see me… which means you were here to see Spike?” she got out, her bewilderment evident in her voice.



She placed down the objects in her hand and frowned some more, her nose crinkling.

“I think I’ve had too much,” she pronounced.

Spike laughed at that, snatching the flask from her and giving it a little shake before taking a sip.

“You’ve had about two mouthfuls.”

“Well, obviously I’m drunk because the hallucinations have started,” Buffy pointed out as the vampire smirked at her, “Riley’s visiting you and that’s normal in what world?”

Spike shrugged and he made a similarly non-committal gesture, taking in Buffy’s playfulness with quiet surprise. Once again, she seemed something like her old self. Except of course for the fact that the old her would never have been sitting here in Spike’s crypt, drinking and laughing with him. The old her wouldn’t even have been here, unless it was to get some information from the vampire.

“Okay, you’re weirding me out. Get to the insulting each other bit already.”

He couldn’t help but smile at Buffy’s confusion and she frowned, looking between them. Spike smirked at her once more and she rolled her eyes, before reaching over and snatching the flask away from him and taking a mouthful. She made a ridiculous little noise and wiped her mouth, her nose crinkling in distaste.

“Thought you said you’d had too much,” Spike pointed out with a smile.

“Drinking through the hallucination,” she murmured with a shrug, “Shouldn’t there be pink elephants or something?”

She let out a sudden hiccup, followed by a girlish giggle and Spike smiled softly – a look Riley had never seen – and removed the flask from her grasp, even as she pouted.



Turning away from the Slayer, Spike faced him, tilting his head.

“What brings you here on this fine evening?”

“Same old. Needed a drink,” he remarked with the briefest of glances at Buffy.

“’Fraid I’m all out now,” Spike commented, slanting a look at the girl beside him with another soft smile.

“Oh my God, you two are drinking buddies. This is beyond weird,” Buffy got out, frowning in confusion still.

“You gonna stop moaning anytime and join us, Slayer?” Spike asked her.

“Drinks with you two?” she questioned, throwing a look between them, “Oh, I’m in for that freak show.”

“Cheers ever so,” Spike mumbled, getting to his feet and rolling his eyes so only Riley could see.

The vampire rounded the sarcophagus and retrieved his coat from a nearby chair as Buffy slid rather inelegantly from her perch. She gave Riley a tiny smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and turned to Spike.

“You’re going to help me figure out that thing though, right?”

“Thing?” Riley couldn’t help but ask curiously, looking between the two.

“Someone’s messing with the Slayer,” Spike explained, shrugging into his jacket.

“Yeah, you remember the exploding something?” Buffy continued wryly, “Turns out that was just the beginning.”

“You need any help?” Riley asked.

“It’s okay, Giles is looking into it. And Spike’s going to, what was it, ‘throw punches’ and ‘find out what’s in the air’,” she explained, giving the vampire a smirk of her own.

“Just a suggestion is all,” the vampire huffed, heading for the door, “We going for a drink or what?”



He was standing at the bar now, buying drinks and still trying to overcome the feeling of weirdness settling over him. He glanced over at the table where Buffy and Spike sat in seemingly companionable silence and turned back to the bar, wondering if maybe he was the one who was hallucinating.

He was just so used to Buffy’s interactions with Spike involving her fists and a few insults. Watching them talk – joke even – and generally get on was a new and unsettling experience for him. Even though his own attitude to Spike had changed, he had never imagined that Buffy’s might, despite all he had heard about the run-up to her encounter with Glory. Surely the memory of the Buffybot alone was enough to make her relations with the vampire just as frosty.

That did not seem to be the case at all though – she treated Spike now exactly as if he was just another Scooby. They had even exchanged a few comments that made no sense to him and it was bewildering to see how well they were getting along. It was also obvious that Buffy had been speaking to Spike about her problems and it was something that gave him an unsettling feeling in his stomach.



He returned to the table and they both looked up, taking the drinks with a thank you and falling back into silence. They all sipped at their drinks for a few minutes of silence and then Buffy pushed hers away, speaking up.

“You know, maybe we should try what you said,” she said, directing her words at Spike, “Banging heads and all that.”

“We will.”

“Can we go now?” she asked, a slight frown creasing her brow.

Spike cast a look at him and then turned back to the Slayer, concern evident in his expression.

“If you want, love. No rush though.”

“You said I shouldn’t sit around and wait for them to figure out what kills me,” she commented, getting quite worked up now – and perhaps the alcohol was helping there too.

“I know but-“

“I’m just sitting here drinking when I should be trying to sort out my life!”

She looked genuinely angry – and maybe a little upset - with herself and she got to her feet a moment later.

“Are you ready?”

Although still evidently surprised, Spike got to his feet, watching her carefully.

“Sorry Riley,” she said, turning to him, “We should go. Low profile and all that.”

She was gone the next moment and Spike gave him a little look that reflected his own surprise.

“I better go.”

The vampire quickly dashed after Buffy and Riley slumped in his chair. Left at an empty table with their half-finished drinks, he felt distinctly slighted.

He was on patrol alone the next night, still feeling a little sorry for himself after last night’s ditching. He had left the bar not long after, fed up sitting alone, and had made his way home alone. His mood was lower than ever, as the feeling that he was on the outside got stronger and stronger. In moments of honesty with himself, he even admitted that he was jealous of the role Spike had taken up in the group – and even more so of the way he and Buffy were treating each other lately.

It was stupid but he couldn’t stop himself and he decided to hit the streets of Sunnydale in search of distraction. It wasn’t long before he happened upon a vampire just about to tuck into his dinner – a middle-aged woman – and he jumped straight into the fray, dragging the woman aside and shouting at her to run. He turned back to the vampire then with a slight smile, slipping a stake out of his jacket and wrapping his fingers around it tightly.

“You’re going to regret that, mate,” the vampire growled, eyes glowing golden in the darkness.

Ignoring the vampire’s taunt, he focussed on watching the creature intently, waiting for his next move. Then the hit came behind and he realised as he went down that the vampire wasn’t alone. He heard a laugh from his first opponent and rolled onto his back, looking up at the two vampires – one female, one male – now looking down at him with amusement.

“Not so big now, eh?” the vampiress hissed, slipping into game face.



He jumped to his feet quickly and backhanded her across the face, sending her into the wall. Her partner, not pleased by this, jumped him a moment later, kicking him into a bin and winding him. He turned quickly though and, grabbing a nearby bin lid, slammed it into the vampire’s side before he could reach him again. It was only a momentary victory though and a moment later, the lid was ripped out of his hands and thrown away. The vampire hissed at him and lunged, punching him hard in the face.

“Get him, Jerry!”

He managed to duck the next hit but a swift kick to the stomach sent him to his knees. He tried to roll out of the way before the next hit got him but the vampire’s punch landed on his head, sending him crashing headfirst into the wall behind. He felt the hard brick tearing at his skin and when he managed to right himself, one eye was blinded with blood. The vampires stood a few feet away now, regarding him hungrily as he tried to stem the flow of blood from his forehead.

The male – Jerry - took a step forward but before he could take another, he was gone, exploding in a burst of dust as a crossbow flew through his chest. Raising his head, he spotted Buffy’s form at a slight distance, crossbow aimed and ready to go. The vampiress faltered and turned to run but too late, as Buffy had already pulled the trigger.



She approached him slowly and dropped to a crouch in front of him.

"You don’t look so good,” she commented with a tiny smile, glancing at his head.

“I thought there was only one,” he explained, giving a grim smile.

Supporting himself against the wall, he pushed himself slowly to his feet, one hand held to his bleeding head.

“We should get you somewhere, clean you up,” Buffy said, “All that blood’s going to attract even more vamps.”

“My place is just round the corner actually,” he spoke up, pointing in that direction, “Didn’t get far.”

She smiled and gave him a look of concern as he took a few uncertain steps.

“Are you okay?” she asked, reaching out as if to steady him.

“Yeah, just a little blood loss,” he joked, smiling even as he felt woozy.

“Let’s get you home,” she answered with a smile, moving closer as he struggled along – ready to catch him if he stumbled.



They reached his apartment and he dragged the keys out of his pocket, letting them both in and leading her up the stairs to the small studio. He lowered himself to the couch and held out his hand, regarding the blood that now stained it.

“Have you got supplies?” she asked.

“Bathroom,” he answered with a nod in that direction.

She disappeared and reappeared a moment later with the first aid kit, placing it down and sitting next to him.

“You were lucky I was nearby,” she commented, pulling out a few wipes and opening them.

“I was hoping to get out of this with my masculinity intact, but obviously not.”

She smiled ever so slightly and wiped at his head, causing him to wince. She worked in silence and he found himself taking her in, eyes taking in her features with the benefit of closeness. She looked tired and there was a noticeable dullness in her eyes.

“It’s not so bad,” she spoke up, sitting back and meeting his gaze – and looking away a moment later.

She took up a bandage and placed it gently across his forehead, taping it down.

“So I’ll live?”

She smiled and pulled away, replacing the supplies in the kit.

“Thanks.”

She nodded and shifted back a little, placing the kit on the nearby table and now taking a chance to look around the room.



“Nice place.”

“It’s okay. Better than a tent so I can’t complain.”

She regarded him for a moment and then spoke up.

“Where were you? I mean, where did you go… after…”

“Belize at first. Then Mexico, Peru, a whole load of other places… wherever we were needed.”

“But you left them and came back here,” she got out uncertainly, eyes flicking to his and away again.

“Yeah,” he said softly, regarding her with tenderness.

She looked up and held his gaze for a moment before she turned away again.

“So you’re back to stay?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She nodded and then forced a smile.

“Sorry for the grilling. We’ll have to properly catch up sometime.”

“Not much to tell.”

She raised an eyebrow and he smiled.

“Can’t tell me or you’ll have to kill me?” she asked with a smile.

“Just not very interesting,” he answered with a laugh, “Fought the good fight and that was about it. I didn’t exactly have time for much else.”

She nodded understandingly and they fell into a silence.



“I should get going,” she spoke up after a while, “Patrol to continue and all. I said I’d drop by and get Spike on the way.”

He got to his feet with her, trying to ignore that pang of jealousy once more. She headed for the door and he followed her, opening it for her and leaning against it.

“Be more careful next time you’re out,” she warned gently.

“I learnt my lesson.”

“Good,” she said with a smile.

She stepped outside but lingered a moment longer.

“I’ll see you again soon.”

“Yeah.”

She smiled once more and made her way down the stairs, glancing back up once before slipping out of the door. He shut his own door and leant against it, losing himself to reverie for a moment before shaking it off and moving into the apartment, his pride dented and his jealousy only worsened.

The singing had finally stopped, thank God – but not before it had brought Buffy’s whole life crashing down around her. The music had taken them all and poured forth their secrets – let loose her secret, the one she had been so carefully hiding from her friends for some time now.

But why I froze, not one among them knows
And never can be told

Now they knew though. The spell had torn the words from her and her friends now knew the truth about where she had been when they had “rescued” her. The truth about how she was suffering now.

I live in Hell
'Coz I've been expelled
From Heaven


It had been as devastating to them as she had ever imagined and she had fled the room moments after, unable to face them, unable to take their pain when hers was already crippling her. She had fled out into the night and had collapsed against the nearest wall, fighting back the tears.

Spike, of course, had followed her and found her struggling for composure only a few minutes later. But even the sympathy in his eyes, the softness in his expression had been too much to take and she had fled once again with no more than a breathless apology. She had needed to be alone and now she was - curled up on her bed, taking long, deep breaths, her hands shaking ever so slightly.



It wasn’t even just revealing the secret of her afterlife that was leaving her shaken: the spell had wreaked even more havoc than that, had revealed more things than her own well-hidden secret. Things she knew but had been hiding from in her stubbornness to pretend that everything in her life was how it had been. Feelings that left her now torn. Spike’s.

I know I should go
But I follow you like a man possessed

And Riley’s.

Can you tell me when you look at me
If you need me in all honesty?

They were both in love with her, or so they had sung, and that complicated her illusion even more. She had known – it had been staring her in the face – but she hadn’t wanted the reality, hadn’t wanted to hear it out loud. Riley, with his wish to reclaim her and Spike, with his wish to be hers. It was something that, back in her high school days, she would have gloated over and giggled about – two guys fighting over her - but this was real and she knew now that if she wasn’t careful, two hearts were going to end up broken. And despite her apathy when it came to a lot of things, this was something that she could not turn her back on. She had been forced into this position, wedged between the two and whether they had intended it or not, she had a choice to make.



On the one hand was Riley. Safe, reliable Riley. Normal, human Riley. They had been happy together and, once upon a time, she had dreamed of a future with picket fences and rosy-cheeked children. It had been a fantasy though, shattered into pieces when he had flown out of her life. They had been happy, but that was so long ago now – it seemed a lifetime ago.

Now Riley wanted her back, wanted to try to recapture what they had had before, but it just wasn’t that simple. He had come back but that didn’t change the fact that he had left in the first place. She hadn’t had a chance to get over it either, hadn’t had time to work it through in her mind because then there had been Glory, and her mom. She had just forced thoughts of him to the back of her mind, forcing herself on everyday.

Then he had been there with her friends on the night of her resurrection and she had forgotten for a moment that he shouldn’t have been. That he had been long gone in some distant country when she had jumped. He had slotted himself back into her life – even if she wasn’t there – and it was like nothing had changed since the day he had abandoned her.



Things had changed though and no illusion of his or hers could change that. They had lived apart for months and whatever she had once felt for him had faded to something so small it barely registered. She found herself wondering about him in idle moments, but the feelings she now had for him had settled well into the platonic region. He was still the man she had fallen in love with – steady, reliable Riley – but that wasn’t what she needed anymore. She had learned too late that their relationship was doomed to failure –lessons unlearnt from before – and hadn’t been able to do anything to stop its sudden implosion.

That was in the past though, and it didn’t do to dwell on. They were in the present and in this present, she could not imagine a relationship with Riley once more. He was still funny, still cute – but she was not the same bubbly freshman who had muddled her way through the early days of their relationship. She was a different person altogether, a person with different wants and needs.



She was changed – but there was still one person who understood her. Spike. Spike, who she had once hated with every fibre of her being. Spike, who she had pitied as he lay chained to Giles’ bathtub, pale and thinner than ever. Spike, who had risked death to hide her sister’s true identity from Glory. He had changed more than anyone she knew in the space of a few short years – but he had never lost his unnerving ability to understand her. To know her secrets, her weaknesses.

You’ll never be friends. You’ll be in love ‘til it kills you both.

Her insecurities.

Were you too strong? Did you bruise the boy?

The truth.

You're a creature of the darkness. Like me.

It was scary how he understood her, but he did. And even more so since she had returned from death. He seemed to sense her moods, her needs – and it scared the hell out of her. He seemed to be in tune with every emotion and it showed in every expression he showed her: that soft look of awe, that distressed look whenever he knew she was in pain. He knew her. And he was her enemy. Or at least he had been, once upon a time. Now he was… A confidante. A friend. An escape.



Spike had been the only one she could trust with her secret. The only one she had dared to tell – even if it hadn’t exactly been planned. Somehow, she had known he was the only one who could take the weight of the knowledge. Since then, he had looked at her differently though – like a fallen angel indeed. He was so desperate to make her happy, to do anything he could to make things easier, better. She just didn’t know how herself.

His presence was soothing though – calming in a way that would have greatly amused the seventeen-year-old Buffy. She could talk to him, knowing that he would listen, knowing that he would care – and knowing she would not feel guilty. She felt comfortable around him, more comfortable even than she did around her friends and knowing he always had her back made her feel safe, secure.

It was surreal, how much their relationship had changed within even the last year. Spike was like her in so many ways though – something she had avoided facing when they had been on opposite sides. He wore his mask just as well as she did, hiding his fears and weaknesses behind an attitude and a leather jacket. It was probably why he understood her well. Well, that and a hundred plus years spent observing people. It was these similarities that left her feeling a closeness to him that she never would have expected. An intimacy with her greatest opponent.



So, she was left with her dilemma. Torn between two men, who were so very different. And yet they had one similarity, in that they both wanted something from her – something she wasn’t even sure she could give right now. They wanted her to love when she struggled to even feel anything. They wanted her to open up, when she was petrified to let go of her control. They both wanted to be the one to take care of her – but she wasn’t sure either of them really grasped what she was going through.

They would never know her deepest fears, never know the things that crept through her mind in the dark of her room. How easy it would be to give up. How she could leave all this behind. They knew nothing of the burden she carried and of how close she was to giving it up. How she struggled through every day.

Still, I always feel this strange estrangement
Nothing here is real
Nothing here is right

She was drowning and if she couldn’t find an anchor, she could very easily lose herself. She needed someone to hold her head above water, someone to help her get through this. And she just didn’t think that either of the men who claimed to love her could do this.

Riley was still struggling to come to terms with the revelations brought forth by the musical spell just yesterday. Struggling with what had happened to Buffy. God, what she must be feeling now. She had been ripped from her peaceful rest back into her life of violence and every reaction she had had since then made more and more sense.

It was only at the beginning, when she had been so disoriented, that there had been any sign of what she had revealed – but then she had hid it. She had firmly placed her mask on and had got on with her life, hiding this huge secret until it finally came out with disastrous effect.

He had felt it like a kick to the stomach and not for the first time, he wished he had spoken up when he had first heard of Willow’s plan. If he had just told Giles, there might have been a chance that Buffy could have been left in peace. Instead she was now dragging herself through a life that held even less appeal than before, yet still trying to play the same role as always. He should have seen it before, should have glimpsed what hid behind the mask, but he had been blind.

Now he couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she had gone through – what she was still probably going through – and there was only one solution to that, as always: a drink and a few wise words from an old vampire.



He found Spike slumped in his armchair, already working his way through a bottle of whiskey. Riley settled beside the vampire without a word and took the bottle handed to him, taking a large mouthful. He let the liquid slide down his throat, savouring it for a moment, and returned the bottle to Spike.

They continued this silent routine for several long moments, until Riley finally spoke up.

“I’ve been thinking about Buffy.”

Spike raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

“About what she’s been through.”

Spike still said nothing but Riley spotted the dark shadow flit across his face.

“I just can’t believe it,” he murmured, “She was in Heaven.”

“Don’t see what’s so bloody unbelievable about it,” Spike huffed, “She was a warrior, a protector of the people. Killed the bad things.”

Riley studied the vampire’s angry expression for a moment and then spoke up in realisation.

“You knew.”

Spike had already known, before her revelation, and had had time to process this crippling news.

“Yeah,” the vampire confirmed a moment later, “She told me.”

He didn’t want to deal with the pang those words caused and he focussed on the vampire’s grim expression.

“How is she coping?” he found himself asking and regretted it as soon as the vampire gave him an angry but bewildered look.

“How do you think?”



He fell silent and took the bottle once more, taking a larger mouthful to drive away the bad taste in his mouth.

“They shouldn’t have done it,” he murmured, glancing at the vampire and then returning his gaze to the floor once more, “The spell.”

“Too right they bloody shouldn’t have,” Spike replied, his voice weary rather than angry now.

They continued their silent drinking for several minutes, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts. It didn’t exactly make them great company for each other, Riley mused, but Spike’s abrupt truths always made him think more about what was happening around him. The vampire saw so much that he seemed to miss. He guessed that was the benefit of hundred years of being around people.

“She’s been miserable,” he mumbled, half to himself.

He felt Spike’s eyes on him but then the vampire settled back in his chair, retrieving a new bottle from beside his chair.

“I reckon so, yeah. Been bottling it up for too long as well.”

“She always did.”

Spike looked at him and nodded before tilting his head back and taking a long swallow from the newly-opened bottle. Once more, they fell into a comfortable silence.



A moment later, the door flew open and they both quickly turned to it, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he took in Buffy’s form. She stopped in surprise and as he got the distinct feeling she hadn’t expected to find him here, he felt that pang of jealousy once more.

“Hi,” she got out weakly, looking slightly pale – and as if she hadn’t slept well. Which wouldn’t be surprising, considering the events of the night before.

They both greeted her and she moved further into the crypt, her eyes darting between the two of them. For the first time in weeks, she was not hiding her agitation or weariness as well as usual and he could see just how close she was to breaking.

“Look like you need a drink,” Spike spoke up and she gave the vampire a tired smile.

“You know that didn’t turn out so well last time. Buffy and alcohol are not very mixy,” she explained, relaxing ever so slightly as she moved into the crypt and sat on the cabinet opposite them.

“Was amusing for those of us observing.”

She scowled at the vampire and Riley felt himself distinctly the outsider in this interaction. Buffy stopped a moment later though and turned to him.

“Your head looks better now.”

“Yeah,” he replied, “It healed up okay.”

“What happened?” Spike asked curiously.

“Got myself into a fight I couldn’t win,” he explained with a wry smile.

Spike raised an eyebrow and gave him a smug smile.

“Anyway, I was about to go patrol,” Buffy spoke up, drawing their attention back to her, “Anyone up for it?”

He was about to reply but suddenly felt himself getting inexplicably sleepy. His blurry gaze flicked to the vampire beside him – and moments later, everything went black.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



He woke with a start and took in the sleeping forms around him. On his left, a man with bright blonde hair, dressed entirely in black, was slumped in a battered armchair and just opposite them, a young blonde woman was slumped on a cabinet. Even as he watched them, they started to stir and the man in black jolted awake, looking around in a flash and jumping to his feet.

“What the bloody hell?!”

His cry startled the blonde woman and she sat up stiffly, taking in her surroundings uncertainly.

“Where am I?” she asked, jumping to her feet and wrapping her arms around her defensively as she looked at them both suspiciously.

“I’m not sure,” he answered gently, hoping to reassure her, “But I’m-“

He paused, unable to remember his name. His eyes went wide in surprise and as he glanced at the other two, he noticed the same sudden panic cross their expressions. He patted down his pockets but found nothing there.

It was only when he suddenly felt cold metal against his throat that he reached for his neck and the chain there. He tugged it off and examined the army issue tags.

“Finn. Riley.”

He looked up and found the other two searching for something to identify themselves but they found nothing and the woman looked forlorn. The man in black gave a shrug and pulled out the only thing he did appear to have found in his clothes – a packet of cigarettes.



They passed a moment of awkward silence as the man in black lit up a cigarette but he found himself becoming irritated.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda rude?!” he asked, addressing the man.

The man quirked an eyebrow at him and blew out a ring of smoke in defiance.

“Don’t go thinking you’re in charge here.”

“I don’t see you doing anything useful.”

“Not all of us fancy ourselves the top dog.”

“Well, looking at the state of you-“

“Would you two shut up?!” the woman cried, silencing them both as she glared at them, her petite figure doing nothing to diminish her daunting expression as she crossed her arms across her chest angrily. He knew better than to argue with a woman as fiery as this and gave out a sigh, sinking back into the chair.

“Obviously, something weird has happened to us,” the woman spoke up, throwing a glare at the blonde man as he snorted.

“We just need to figure out what.”

“And just how do you reckon on doing that?” the blonde man asked with a smirk, “With no memories?”

Although she glared back at the blonde man, he saw her shoulders sag and she sank down on to the cabinet once more.



A long silence passed and as he glanced at the other two, he saw both brows creased, deep in thought. As he risked a second look at the blonde man, their gazes clashed and the blonde man smirked.

“No bright ideas yet, Soldier Boy?”

He ignored the barb and turned to the blonde woman, watching her worriedly. She had her gaze fixed on the floor, eyes closed and a strained look on her face – as if she was desperately trying to remember.

“Maybe we should try to figure out your name,” he spoke up, drawing her attention, “It might be a start.”

She smiled weakly and gave a little shrug.

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe you can make one up, just for now. So we know what to call you.”

She thought for a long moment and then looked at them.

“I like the name Joan. I’m going with that.”

“Nice to meet you, Joan,” he replied with a smile, glad to see her spirits lifted ever so slightly.

They both turned expectantly to the blonde man and he rolled his eyes.

“Call me whatever you bloody want, I don’t care. Doesn’t stop the fact that we can’t remember bugger all.”

Seemingly ignoring this last part, Joan spoke up with a tiny smile.

“How about… Brad?”

He could have sworn the man gave out what sounded like a growl and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t bloody think so.”

“You said you didn’t care,” Joan pointed out with a smirk of her own now, “Brad.”

The blonde man narrowed his eyes at her but she only smiled in reply, her hazel eyes sparkling. It was with a start that he realised just how beautiful she was, especially now she was smiling, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring.



Unknown to him, the staring match between the two blondes continued, until finally the man gave in, drawing his attention back to the present.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Throwing his finished cigarette to the floor, the man stood up, crushing it under his boots.

“I’m going to look around, figure out where we are.”

“Are you crazy?!” Joan asked, getting to her feet once more, “We have no idea what’s out there.”

“Scared?” the man teased.

“No,” she snapped back, “I just think we should stick together.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll look after you,” the blonde man got out with a wink. Joan rolled her eyes but Riley could have sworn he saw the faintest of blushes cross her cheeks.

“You comin’ or what, then?” the man asked and was already moving toward the door when Joan grabbed his arm, drawing him to a halt.

“Look, can’t we just stay here until we figure something out?”

He hesitated for a moment and she continued.

“Please? We have no idea who we are, where we are, what the hell happened to us. I think it’s just safer to stay here, don’t you?”

After a long moment, the man finally softened imperceptibly and nodded.

“Yeah, alright.”

She smiled her thanks and released his arm nervously, turning back to the room.

“Maybe we could watch some TV?”

They had been watching TV for over an hour now and still, there had been no sudden revelations or even any ideas as to what to do. Riley flicked through the channels aimlessly now as the blonde man – who still refused to be named – and Joan stood at the door. The blonde man was taking the opportunity to smoke and Joan was looking out at the area around them.

“This might sound strange, but I think we’re in a cemetery,” she called out, glancing back at him and then to the man at her side as he looked out.

“Looks like,” he confirmed.

“This is just getting creepier and creepier,” Joan sighed and leant against the frame of the door.

The blonde man said something to her, although Riley couldn’t hear what, and his hand just grazed her elbow reassuringly. She looked up at the man and nodded, giving him a tiny smile.

Turning away from the interaction, he shook his head slightly as he continued to flick through the channels: he would never understand this obsession girls had with bad boys. Especially this particular specimen of bad boy, who had shown only rare glimpses of something over than rudeness in the last hour or so. Why any girl would be interested was beyond him, but it seemed Joan was already being drawn in.

He glanced over, saw that they were still holding a whispered conversation, and turned his attention back to the television, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes.



Some time later, they joined him once more, although by now everyone seemed bored with watching the television. To occupy herself, Joan was still busy trying to name the blonde man.

“Well, you’re British, so I bet you’ve got one of those really posh names. Like… William. Or, oh, Herbert!”

“Herbert?” he echoed, with a look of distaste.

“Just an idea,” she replied with a shrug and a smile, “Okay, okay… What about… Geoffrey?”

“You’re taking the piss now.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” she commented with a frown, “But I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“Why can’t you just leave it?” the man asked, but with none of his former hostility.

“Because I can’t just keep calling you ‘hey you’ or ‘guy’… or ‘Brad’,” she finished with a teasing smile.

The blonde man narrowed his eyes at her again, but as she smiled and thought to herself, he seemed to soften once more.

“Okay… what about James?”

“We’ll just go with sodding James, shall we? If it’ll get you off my back.”

She smiled triumphantly and he rolled his eyes, letting out a playful sigh.

“Now that’s sorted, what the hell are we going to do about this bloody situation?”



No-one had had an answer for ‘James’ and they had fallen into a depressed silence soon after, no-one knowing the solution to their dilemma. Joan had quickly grown antsy and had now taken to pacing, her high heels clicking against the floor. After a few minutes, she came to a halt and strode over to them.

“I have to get out of here, or I’m going to go mad,” she announced.

He shared a worried look with James and then the blonde man got to his feet.

“You said it was probably safer here, didn’t you?” he said softly, his hand hovering over her arm.

“I know,” she murmured, “But I can’t just sit here anymore. It’s been hours!”

“What do you think we’ll find out there?” James continued quietly, “We don’t know ourselves, let alone anyone we meet on the street.”

“You’re right,” she conceded, “I know you are. I just can’t sit around doing nothing any longer.”

“Why don’t you go and get some air?” James suggested, “Just stay close and shout if you need anything, yeah?”

Riley wasn’t sure it was a good idea but she nodded and moved away towards the door before he could say anything. She hesitated at the door, but then opened it and stepped out into the darkness.

After a short pause, he spoke up.

“Do you think that was a good idea?”

“She’s just outside. Girl needed some space before she went crazy on us.”

“What if anything happens to her?”

“You kidding? She’s just outside. Nothing’s going to happen-”

James’ next words were cut off by a scream from outside and they both jumped to their feet instantly, James just ahead of him as they ran outside.



They both came to a startled stop as they spotted Joan just a few metres away, struggling with a large man who had her pinned against a tree. She spotted them and screamed again and James dashed forward, grabbing the man and hauling him away. Joan took the opportunity provided and fled, but as the man got to his feet, both males’ attention was on him. Or rather, it.

Riley had never seen anything like this before: the man’s features were distorted, his eyes yellow, and he had long, sharp teeth. He was a monster, like something out of a horror film.

“Spike,” the monster scoffed, “Should have known. Heard you’d been helping the Slayer.”

Nothing the man – monster – said made any sense to him, but it was obvious he was talking to James – who looked similarly confused.

“Don’t know what you want, mate, but you’d better get out of here.”

The monster raised his chin in defiance, but to Riley’s surprise, he started to move backwards.

“This isn’t over, Spike.”

The monster then turned and ran, disappearing among the trees and leaving them alone. James turned to him with a startled look, and then quickly looked towards where Buffy had been.

“Where did she go?” he shouted.

Before he had a chance to answer, James was taking off in the direction she had run – seemingly by luck. He too broke into a run, but came to a breathless halt after only a few metres when, just as if someone had flicked a switch, the fog lifted and his memories returned.



Everything came back to him with a sudden jolt and he had to take several deep breaths to calm himself down. He had no idea what had happened, but he knew the first thing he needed to do was find Buffy and Spike, and see if they too had their memories back. He broke into a run once more and dashed through the trees, hoping he would be able to find them.

He came out into a clearing and stopped, looking around desperately for them. He turned left on a whim, rounded a crypt – and froze. Just up ahead of him, sheltered behind a nearby crypt, were Buffy and Spike. And they were kissing.

He pressed his back against the crypt to prevent himself from being spotted, but could not move from his spot. He could not look away either, from this sight that caused a pain to rip through his chest. Buffy clung to the vampire so desperately as she kissed him, her hands digging into the arms of his coat – as if relying on him to hold her up. There was so much desperation, passion, in their kiss and he wondered that he had let himself become so blind to the truth: Buffy had fallen for another vampire. It was the end to all his hopes and dreams.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what he had witnessed – Buffy and Spike’s kiss. The image haunted him in his sleep, torturing him, and when he was awake, things weren’t much better. Everywhere he went, he saw them together, entwined passionately. The sight was seared into his memory and nothing he did could remove it. No matter how hard he tried, there was no way to stop himself from thinking about it either.

He desperately tried to think of anything else but it would take only minutes for the thoughts of them together to return. Questions raced through his mind: was Buffy in love with Spike? Were they together already, but had just been hiding it? Did anyone else know? He needed a distraction and it soon came in the form of a news story about a security guard frozen solid at the local museum. It was a poor distraction, but he took it, gladly preparing himself and making his way out into the town.

Even as he walked though, he saw Buffy and Spike together with every step. He would close his eyes to try and force the image away, but it only seemed to make it clearer. His imagination was running wild too, making things worse: he saw them smiling, laughing together; saw Buffy sitting in the vampire’s lap, smiling down at him lovingly. And at the end it always came back to that one scene: their kiss in the cemetery.



He shook his head angrily and sped up his steps, hoping to reach the museum that much sooner and distract himself. As he drew closer, the sounds of the crowd started to reach him and as he rounded the final corner, he saw the hoards of curious Sunnydale residents. Rolling his eyes, he moved forward, reaching the fringes of the crowd moments later. Several police officers were moving about just past the tape and he saw a few stationed at the door of the museum.

Taking a quick look to the side of the museum, he moved away from the group and slipped around the side of the building. It was quiet here and he kept walking, searching for – well, he didn’t really know what. He turned the next corner and walked around the back, listening out for anyone as he continued, surveying the building and its entrances. He hadn’t seen any signs of a break-in as yet. He rounded the next corner but quickly slipped back behind it as he heard raised voices. Familiar raised voices.

Pressing his back against the wall, he peeked around, watching on with interest as Buffy and Spike had a heated conversation. They were obviously trying to keep quiet but every now and then, an angry remark would come out louder.

“You don’t get it!” Buffy remarked.

Spike caught her arm but she shook him off. He said something in a low hiss – Riley couldn’t hear what – and caught her arm again. Reacting just as he might have expected, Buffy lashed out with a right hook that made the vampire stumble backwards. Spike retaliated with his own punch and fell to his knees moments later, clutching his head in agony. Buffy gave him an angry look and stormed away towards Riley.

He pushed himself back against the wall, hiding as she strode past and disappeared between the buildings. He glanced back at Spike, who remained on the ground, and after a moment’s hesitation, he went after Buffy.



As he came out into Main Street, he thought he had lost her, but he caught a glimpse of her just ahead of him and broke into a jog. He reached her side and took a moment to take in her crossed arms and frown.

“Hi.”

She turned to him with surprise, obviously jolted out of her thoughts.

“Oh, Riley, hi!”

“How’s it going?”

“Huh?” she asked distractedly, “Oh, yeah. Good.”

She turned her gaze back to the ground, her mind obviously elsewhere.

“You okay? You seem a little distracted.”

“Me? No, I’m… I’m good.”

She glanced up at him and looked away with a tiny smile.

“Did you hear about the frosted security guard?” he asked, hoping to draw her out of her reverie.

“Oh… yeah. I was… I just went there.”

“Did you find anything?”

She frowned and tightened her arms across her chest ever so slightly.

“No.”

“Do you think it’s supernatural? Or just plain old crime?” he joked.

“I don’t know,” she answered seriously, lost in her own thoughts once more.

She came to a halt a moment later and glanced back along the street.

“Look, I’m sorry, I really need to go.”

“Sure.”

She gave him a half smile and turned on her heel, heading back the way she had come.



He watched her go and turned towards home, not knowing what to think of the night’s events: the image of their kiss had been distorted by the argument he had seen. It confused everything that had been running through his head. Had that kiss been simply nothing? A mistake, perhaps? Had it been just a reaction to the shock of losing their memories and regaining them once more?

He could not tell, but Buffy had not seemed happy about the situation when he had just seen her and although he hated himself for his pettiness, he couldn’t help holding onto that one thought, that one ray of hope. Maybe it had meant nothing and there was still a chance that Buffy could be his. Even as he thought this, he shook his head, ashamed at his own notion. He had to stop holding out for that one in a million chance, or he would end up even more broken-hearted than before. He couldn’t keep hoping that one day Buffy would turn around and be the girl she had once been. So much had changed – for both of them – and the more he thought about it, the less he was convinced that they could still be happy together. Even if the idea pained him.



Buffy may not be happy, but he had no doubt of what Spike’s reaction had been; the vampire had been in love with Buffy for too long not to relish the moment they had shared, however fleeting or meaningless it may have been. It was the one thing he had been hoping for for months now. But he had been rebuffed back at the museum, sent away with a punch and harsh words, no doubt. Surprising himself, he couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for the vampire, who he saw now had changed mostly for Buffy, whether he realised it or not.

It was true that the chip had stopped him from feeding, but Buffy had brought him over to their side. If not for his love for her, which Riley now thought must have started further back than he had imagined, he would be the same, dangerous monster – with a leash. He had changed though and now everything he wanted was within his reach. It must have been intoxicating. Needing to know if he was right, Riley turned his aimless steps in a new direction, headed for the vampire’s home. He wanted to see how the vampire was dealing with this, and if Buffy’s earlier harshness had hit its mark. Knowing Spike, he doubted it very much.



He reached the cemetery in no time and made his way to Spike’s crypt. He knocked briefly and pushed the door open, letting himself in. He was barely two steps inside when he spotted Spike pacing the floor, mumbling to himself. He turned as Riley entered and his eyes lit up.

“You!”

He took a few quick strides forward and before Riley could say anything, he let loose with a fierce punch to the nose. Riley reared back with a cry and Spike did the same almost instantly. Blinking away the pain, Riley righted himself and frowned at the vampire, holding his nose.

“What was that for?”

Spike straightened but instead of answering, he began to laugh.

“Spike?”

The vampire was laughing fitfully now, shaking his head.

“Spike?” he repeated more forcefully.

“It’s her!” Spike crowed around a laugh.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s her’?”

After several moments, the vampire managed to calm himself, although a smirk now settled across his expression.

“Should have known. She’s different, ‘course.”

He let out another laugh and Riley frowned in confusion.

“Spike, what’s going on?”

The vampire met his eyes with an ever-growing smirk.

“Chip’s broken.”



He couldn’t stop the instinctive reaction to step backwards and Spike laughed again.

“Well, obviously it works on you, you idiot.”

“Works on me?” he repeated slowly, “Are you trying to say it doesn’t work on someone else?”

“You got it, Soldier Boy!” Spike exclaimed, pointing at him and letting out another laugh.

“Spike, who doesn’t it work on?” he asked, starting to get impatient.

Spike let out a laugh but then calmed and turned to face him, his expression now turned serious.

“Buffy.”

A moment’s silence passed before Riley reacted.

“What?!”

“You heard me. It doesn’t work on Buffy.”

“How do you know?”

“We had a little fight,” he explained with a shrug, “I hit her and it didn’t hurt.”

The image of that fight outside the museum flashed before his eyes and in that instant, he realised Spike’s pain had been faked. His eyes went wide and he returned his gaze to the vampire.

“I should look into this.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Spike commented, “You know I’m not going to hurt her.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and the vampire added:

“Not much anyway.”

“Spike, if you hurt her-“

“Oh shut up, you ponce,” Spike cut in, gathering up his jacket and slipping into it, “I’m not going to hurt her. I’m just going to show her a thing or two about respect.”

The vampire flashed him a grin and pulled out a cigarette, tucking it between his lips and moving towards the door.

“Spike, don’t -“

Before he could finish his sentence, the vampire was gone and he trailed off.

“…do anything stupid.”

This was going to be bloody brilliant. Finally, after two years of having to put up with the Slayer’s punch-first-talk-later methods, the playing field had been levelled once more. Spike wasn’t going to take her crap anymore, wasn’t going to just stand there and let her walk over him. He didn’t have to anymore. After living in her shadow, they were finally equal again and he wasn’t going to let her forget that. She wouldn’t know what had hit her.

She had treated him little better than a dog at times and now the dog was off the leash and ready for a little payback. He wasn’t going to hurt her, as he had told Riley – but he was definitely ready to make her listen. Ready to show her that he wasn’t her punch bag anymore. True, she had been treating him better lately and they were growing closer – but she was still messing with his head. She ran hot and cold on a daily basis, leaving him with no idea where he stood. She trusted him with her secrets, but would not let him get too close. She even kissed him – and then made a hasty retreat without a word. It was enough to make the most patient man lose it – and Spike had never been known for his patience.



He strode through town, feeling good and strutting just a little. He felt like he had regained a lost part of himself. He smirked and moved onwards, beginning his hunt. There were only a few places Buffy would be about now and as she hadn’t been in his cemetery, there were even fewer to search. He was destined for the second biggest, on the other side of town from his crypt, and couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. It was about time the Slayer had a reminder of just who he was. He was going to enjoy this.

His pace sped up of its own accord and he felt the sweet feeling of anticipation seep through him. He reached the cemetery and caught her scent on the wind, telling him that she was close. He felt a little jolt of excitement go through him and he moved on, stalking his prey in a way he hadn’t done for a long time. Her scent grew stronger and he crept forward quietly, honing in on the sound of her steps.

He cleared a tree and spotted her just ahead of him, moving across the cemetery away from him. He smirked and stepped forward, his fangs itching to descend as he followed her like this. He crept forward carefully but she came to a sudden halt, arms crossing over her chest.

“I know you’re there.”

He didn’t know if it was bluff, but he stepped out of the shadows anyway as she turned around to face him. She had that defensive look on her again – the look he wished she would lose just once in a while.

“What do you want?” she asked, something tired in her voice.

“Just out for a stroll,” he said nonchalantly, restraining himself from pulling out a cigarette, “Free country, last time I checked.”



There was a pause but then she gave him a weak smile.

“Why couldn’t you stroll somewhere where I’m not?” she commented with nothing like her past malice.

“Wouldn’t be as fun,” he answered with a smile.

She rolled her eyes and for those few moments, he forgot why he had come here. She always had had the power to distract him. Not now though. It was too important.

“You know,” he started, moving closer, “I learnt an interesting thing today.”

She sighed and gave him an exasperated look, waiting for him to catch up to her.

“And I have to hear it?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, gritting his teeth in an attempt to keep his patience.

“Oh, I think you’ll be interested in this, love.”

She was putting on a show of boredom but he knew her better than that, saw her eyes brighten with curiosity.

“Well?” she asked impatiently.

He couldn’t stop himself – he pulled back and landed a punch right on her chin.



She went stumbling backwards and came to a halt, wide eyes flying to his.

“Oh God,” she whispered, understanding flooding across her face, “Your chip.”

“Before you get any ideas -“

He had no chance to continue, because she had launched herself at him, throwing punches at him almost desperately – he’d definitely thrown her off. He blocked her hits as best he could and finally took the opportunity to retaliate with a kick that sent her spinning into the nearest gravestone. She grabbed it and righted herself, watching his every move carefully, like the warrior she was. He strolled forward and blocked the punch she threw at him, spinning her and trapping her back against his chest.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured in her ear, “Don’t like it when I hit back?”

He heard her heart rate speed up and it threw him off just long enough for her to smash her head back into his face. He stepped back and watched her with narrowed eyes, taking in the glint in her eyes, her loose stance, the smile playing at her lips. She was enjoying this!

“I hate to say it,” she remarked with a smirk, “But you’re rusty.”

He growled at her, taking the bait and rushing her – only to be tripped and sent to the floor. He rolled over and quickly got to his feet but she was quicker and she kicked him in the back, sending him stumbling into a nearby crypt. He turned quickly but she had him pinned before he could do anything. He stopped and took in the sight of her bright eyes and heavy breathing – and smiled. She really was enjoying this.

“Having fun, love?” he whispered.



She widened her eyes in surprise and tightened her grip on his lapels. She leaned in close, her lips hovering by his ear, her scent overwhelming him.

“I’m only just getting started,” she whispered.

He didn’t have time to take in her words before she was sending him flying through the air and crashing to the ground. He was annoyed at himself for being so easily distracted and righted himself with a growl.

“Oh, you wanna play, sweetheart?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and came at him, fists flying, completely in her element. He was almost caught up in watching her but managed to stop himself and focus on the task at hand. Their punches were less forceful now and most were blocked by the other – it had turned into a sparring match more than anything. He smirked and dodged a punch, grabbing her arm with the intention of flipping her – but she broke free before he could. In the moment it took for him to recover, she swept his legs out from under him and he went down hard.

From his place on the ground, he took her in in all her glory, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look at her.

“You’re bloody magnificent.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them but the blush she tried to fight made it worth it.

“Are you just going to lay there?” she asked with the petulant tone of a child.

He smirked and tilted his head at her.

“I like the view from down here.”

The blood rushed to her cheeks once more and she rolled her eyes as a cover, turning away as if to leave.



Before she could take more than one step, he was on his feet, grabbing her by the arm and pinning her against a nearby crypt. She did not resist but looked up at him with wide eyes. He saw her falter for a moment but then she reached up and kissed him, sending his mind into a spin. She wriggled out of his grip and slung her arms around him, pulling him closer as she kissed him hungrily.

When he could think clearly again, he moved, pressing her against the crypt and kissing her back. She let out a delicious little moan and twined her hands in the collar of his coat and his hair. He didn’t dare be gentle, although he ached to, and he tightened his grip on her. If she wanted this, he wasn’t going to hold back. She was so warm and alive and perfect and he thought he might melt under the heat radiating from her. He buried a hand in her hair and held her painfully close, relishing the taste of her.

He felt the tiniest pressure against his neck though and he forced himself to pull away, looking down at her with a carefully veiled expression. She was staring up at him with wide eyes, her lips red and swollen, her breath coming quickly – she was a vision. He froze, waiting to see if this would be a repeat of the last time, but she did not move. She relaxed in his grip ever so slightly and he could have sworn her expression grew a little shy. She spoke up and he couldn’t have been more surprised.

“Wow,” she breathed.



He said nothing, although he was dying to, and continued to watch her carefully, letting her actions guide his. She let out another long breath and he felt her hands loosen their grip.

“I guess I should be focussing on the fact that you can hit me,” she whispered, implying that she was not.

“Don’t,” he murmured, unable to stop himself from reaching out to run a hand over her arm, “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Your chip…”

“It works,” he said honestly, still touching her for fear she might disappear.

“It can’t,” she replied with a laugh, “Or that wouldn’t have just happened.”

“It’s just you,” he remarked, hating that her face fell immediately.

“Just me?” she whispered with a lost look.

Before she could pull away – as she obviously intended – he caught her shoulders, holding her still and forcing her gaze to his.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he repeated, “It’s just… I don’t know… you’re different, aren’t you? You were… dead… and now you’re not.”

She raised her gaze to his but he could not read her, could not figure out what she was thinking. She let out a tiny laugh a moment later and he frowned.

“I can’t think straight right now,” she commented lowly, “I’ll deal with this later.”

Before he could say anything in reply, she pulled him close once more and kissed him.

The morning after his slightly unnerving visit to Spike’s crypt, Riley was walking into town, wondering just how Buffy might have reacted to the news that Spike’s chip did not work on her. He could easily imagine things not going in the vampire’s favour if he made the wrong move and he hoped – for both of their sakes – that Buffy hadn’t taken the news too badly. There was no knowing what she might deduce from this strange turn of events, what interpretation she might come up with.

He himself was struggling to come up with an explanation, given his limited knowledge of how the chip worked. It was obvious it was connected to Buffy’s resurrection, but he couldn’t say much more. He had a few contacts who might be able to look into it but he decided to leave them out of it: he would only delve deeper if Buffy wanted him to. He hoped to see her soon to gauge her reaction and it was for this reason that his first stop of the day was the magic shop. It also gave him a chance to catch up with Buffy’s friends, who he had barely seen since the fallout of Willow’s memory spell.



He found the group as he had numerous times before: Giles was studying a book, Anya was behind the counter, talking to Xander, and Willow sat at the table, idly thumbing through a book. He took a second look at the witch, noting her subdued nature and the distinct absence of her now ex-girlfriend, and turned towards the counter, giving her a tiny smile when she looked up. She looked chirpier than he might have thought but after a tight smile, she returned her attention to her book.

“Riley!” Xander called, waving him over, “Long time no see, man. Where have you been?”

“Nowhere exciting,” Riley answered with a smile, nodding a greeting at Anya as she busied herself with the till, “You not at work today?”

“I’m heading in later.”

Riley nodded and settled into a chair next to his friend, listening as Xander caught him up on all of the latest happenings.

“So, Buffy’s still job-hunting,” Xander continued, “No luck yet.”

“She’ll find something,” Riley said certainly.

“I hope so. She told me the other day that Dawn’s going through the savings like the crazy teenager that she is.”

Riley frowned, but Xander was already continuing.

“And Anya’s driving me crazy with wedding talk.”

Riley laughed and glanced at the ex-demon, who was glaring at Xander.

“Well, if you’d be more helpful…”

He smiled good-naturedly, observing the couple as they began to bicker.



The back door opened a few moments later and he turned in his seat as Buffy drifted in, placing her bag down on the table and greeting them all.

“Remind me not to help Dawn to school ever again,” she exclaimed.

“What happened?” Xander asked.

“She expected me to carry all of her science project… and her books. But I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the front entrance in case any of her friends saw us.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and smiled.

“I mean, come on, I’m a cool mom!” she joked.

“That still doesn’t mean you won’t embarrass a fourteen-year-old, and you know it, Buff!” Xander remarked.

Buffy smiled and settled into a chair close to Willow.

“How’s Amy?” Buffy asked the witch.

“She’s good. Visiting her dad.”

“Cool. Are you still going to the movies with Dawnie later?”

“Yep,” Willow answered brightly, “A full night of Willow and Dawnie fun with added popcorn!”

“Cool. I’ve got patrol, so I might be back late,” Buffy explained and Riley could have sworn he saw the slightest blush redden her cheeks.

“That’s okay. I’ll be around,” Willow replied.

Buffy smiled and pushed herself to her feet.

“Well, no rest for me. My future job is not going to find itself!”

Riley got to his feet as well, drawing her gaze to him.

“I’ll come with you. I need to get going anyway.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile and a nod, heading towards him, “Bye, guys.”

“Buffy!” Giles called out and she paused, turning towards him, “I’d like a word with you later, if you have time.”

“Sure. I’ll come by this afternoon,” she replied with a slight frown.

“Excellent,” Giles said, turning his attention back to his book. Buffy shrugged, waved at her friends, and headed for the door.



They left the shop together and headed down Main Street, walking in silence for a short while.

“I’m glad I saw you actually,” Buffy suddenly spoke up, glancing up at him, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

She nodded but remained silent for a pause, obviously deciding what to say.

“Well,” she started, glancing around them and then drawing him to a halt outside a run-down shop, “I wanted to ask you about the chip. Spike’s chip, I mean.”

“What about it?” he asked, surprised that she had come to him.

“Well, I just… I need to know how it works. Not, like, science and all that. Just how… I don’t know, how it detects humans.”

She worried her lip with her teeth and he couldn’t stop himself from speaking up.

“Are you worried because Spike can hurt you again?”

Her gaze snapped to his, her eyes wide.

“How did you know?”

“Spike punched me in the nose to see if it was a full malfunction,” he explained wryly.

“Oh,” she said quietly, her eyes dropping to the floor.

A moment later, she continued.

“It’s not that I’m worried,” she explained softly, “I just... I kinda want to know why.”



There was a pause and then he answered quietly.

“I don’t know what to tell you. You know the experiments were never my area.”

“I know,” she sighed, “I just thought you might have some idea.”

“I can find out, if you want.”

She looked up sharply, hesitated, and then shook her head.

“No,” she said quickly, before continuing, “Thank you anyway. I just don’t want to make a big deal about it.”

There was another pause and she let out another sigh.

“All I can think is that… you’re different,” Riley spoke up, searching for some way to make her feel better, “I mean, you’re… you can’t be the same as you were before.”

“That’s what Spike said,” she replied softly, giving him a wry smile.

“I really don’t think you have to worry. It’ll just be some little thing that means the chip can’t pick you up.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think Spike would ever hurt you.”

She looked up at him and smiled.

“I know he wouldn’t.”

“Then don’t worry,” he murmured, resisting the urge to place a hand on her shoulder.

She smiled and placed her hand on his arm briefly.

“Thanks, Riley.”

“Anytime.”

She smiled and looked down the street.

“I better get going.”

She didn’t say where she was headed but as she walked away with a small, dreamy smile, he could easily guess and the pang of jealousy returned. What surprised him, however, was that the pain was not quite as bad as before.

As he was on patrol that night, he found himself wondering about his meeting with Buffy earlier; contemplating what it meant that she was a little less than human now. Of course, an element of Buffy had always been something other than human and it had always made her stand out from the crowd. He had always been fascinated by the Slayer mythology, by the history of her calling. It was different now though: she was something else. Something that, to the indicators of a very sophisticated device, did not register as human. Did that mean she registered as demon now? Or was it simply that the device did not know what she was?



He wished now that he had been more involved in the Initiative’s scientific pursuits, if only to know a little more than he did. He didn’t really understand magic, but he was sure that must play some part of the chip’s malfunction. Maybe the magic used to bring Buffy back had cloaked her somehow and all the chip could pick up was this magical trace. He really did not know. All he knew was that – for Buffy and Buffy alone – Spike had the power to be dangerous once more. And not so long ago, it might have worried him. He knew better than that now – had seen the vampire grieve for her – and was certain that Buffy was not in any danger. In fact, in some twisted way, she now had an equal, someone to keep her on her toes – and so keep her safe. He shook his head as he remembered how he had so wanted to be that man. It had been hopeless, even back then when he had still held some power over her heart.




He moved on through the night, surveying his surroundings constantly, even as he lost himself to his train of thought. He knew better than to get completely distracted though – the monsters that lurked in Sunnydale’s darkness would never pass up such easy prey. He rounded a corner and was almost home when a car came flying past him, swerving wildly. He caught a glimpse of Willow behind the driver’s seat and a moment later, the car veered off the road and ploughed into a nearby wall. He was already rushing towards the wreck when a hard shove in his back sent him tumbling to the floor. He looked up from his spot and spotted a creature trying to get to the occupants of the car – he spotted Dawn now, just coming to.



He jumped up and looked around quickly, searching for a weapon. He heard a loud thud and then Dawn screamed and he quickly ran for the nearest weapon – a bin lid. As he turned back, the creature was clawing at the cracked car window as Dawn screamed again, obviously struggling to hold the door closed. Clutching the metal lid tightly, he rushed the creature and hit it around the head. It reared back, growled, and threw out an arm, sending him to the floor once more.




The creature, successfully distracted, now came after him, attempting to get at him while he was still down. It clawed at him but he managed to keep it at some distance, kicking and pushing to keep it away. It managed to swipe his cheek though, the skin singing with pain as the creature’s claws cut through him. He gave it a sharp kick and it went down, but was up a moment later. Dawn had crept out of the car and was trying to sneak away but as if sensing her, it turned and fixed its attention on her.


“Riley, help!” she cried.


It moved towards her and he rushed forward, only to be thrown out of the way and into a concrete pillar that left him with a ringing in his ears. Through blurry eyes he watched the monster approach Dawn and then, all of a sudden, a shape appeared – Buffy! – and sent the monster to the ground with a roundhouse kick.



As she fought the demon, Spike went to Dawn and looked her over worriedly. His attention snapped back to Buffy though as she went to the floor, struggling to subdue the monster. Spike now jumped into the fray, jumping on the creature’s back and hooking his arm around its throat. Buffy got to her feet and landed a kick to the monster’s gut, sending it stumbling backwards. Spike slipped off and they moved on the monster, but before they could make their next move, it began to twitch and a moment later, it burst into flame and disappeared in front of them. Struggling to keep his dizzy head upright, his gaze moved now to Willow, who stood close by, crackling with magical energy. The crisis averted, everyone went into motion: Buffy hurried to her sister’s side, examining her with concern. Spike turned and strode over to him, reaching out a hand.


“You alright?”


“Fine,” he got out, letting the vampire pull him to his feet.


They turned towards the women, where Willow now appeared to be pleading with the sisters. Ignoring her, Buffy wrapped her arm around her sister and guided her away from the wreckage. Willow dropped to the floor, crying and pleading – but no-one paid her any attention. Buffy and Dawn drew close and Buffy threw him a teary-eyed look.


“Thank you.”


“Tried my best,” he replied with a shrug, turning his attention to Dawn, “Are you okay, Dawn?”


“My arm,” she got out pitifully, cradling it with her other arm.


“My place is closest,” Riley said, “I’ll get my car and we’ll get her to a hospital. That arm looks broken.”


Buffy nodded and she and Dawn moved off, he and Spike falling in close behind. He took one last glance at the wreckage and a broken Willow before hurrying forward, leading the way to the garage where his car was parked.



As he opened the door, a hand on his shoulder stopped him and he turned to meet Spike’s enquiring look.


“You sure you’re up for driving? You’re not looking so pretty yourself.”


He hesitated for a moment and then relinquished the keys to the vampire.


“Just don’t wreck it,” he joked weakly.


The vampire gave a slight smile and then hoped into the driver’s side, starting the car and backing it out into the street. Riley climbed into the passenger’s seat and the two sisters climbed into the back, Buffy holding her sister close as Dawn tried not to cry. Slipping the car swiftly into gear, Spike put his foot down and they shot off down the road.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~ After a quick x-ray, it was confirmed that Dawn’s arm was broken and needed to be set, so she was taken away to a treatment room, Buffy refusing to leave her side. Left alone, Riley and Spike now settled in to wait. Riley had endured a quick check-up on their arrival but after he had been cleaned up, he refused to stay as a patient and had discharged himself. He now sat side by side with the vampire, both of them pensive.


“I still don’t know quite what happened tonight,” Riley spoke up, “I mean, Willow…”


“She’s addicted to magic,” Spike replied, his eyes trained on the corridor where Buffy and Dawn had disappeared, “It’s why Tara left her and it’s why she’s losing it.”


He was taken aback – but not completely surprised. Willow’s abuse of magic had been all too clear to him from the moment she had decided she had the power – and the right - to bring someone back from the dead.


“She could have really hurt Dawn.”


“Yeah.”


Spike ran a hand through his hair agitatedly and sank back in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. He fidgeted nervously and then began tapping his fingers on his legs. Silence fell over them for several long minutes, until Riley spoke up once more.


“Buffy’s taking this badly.”


Spike regarded him for a moment and then turned his gaze back to the floor.


“It’s not just this,” he said, glancing up at Riley, “The Watcher’s thinking about going back to England.”


“What?” he got out, completely thrown off, “Since when?”


“Dunno,” Spike answered with a shrug, “But he told Buffy today.”


And she had gone straight to Spike, it seemed.


“Why would he leave?”


“Missing the homeland, I ‘spect. And not feeling so needed over here.”


“You’re joking, right?”


Spike straightened and looked at him, one eyebrow raised in something that might have been disbelief.


“All the kids are grown up now. Plenty capable of taking care of themselves. Especially Buffy.”


Riley paused, considering this, and then spoke up.


“It would break Buffy if he left.”


“That it might,” Spike said quietly, his eyes drawn back once more to the corridor where the sisters had gone. Not knowing what to say, Riley kept quiet and silence descended over them once more as they waited patiently.

Buffy couldn’t do this: she couldn’t be the grown-up. She couldn’t be the one to hold the group together - she could barely hold herself together. There was just too much responsibility being suddenly thrust on her shoulders: Dawn had been hurt; Willow was in magical rehab; Giles was threatening to leave. And on top of all that, she still hadn’t been able to find a job. The only vacancies she had seen were at fast food restaurants and, even as desperate as she was, she wasn’t sure she could lower herself to that. So the search went on and the bills continued to come in and the pressure built up until she thought she might implode.



There was one ray of light in her dim world though and, surprising as it might have been, it was Spike. Her one-time enemy had become her closest friend. The only person she could really turn to. The one person she could reveal her weaknesses to. It was strange and new, this feeling, but at the same time it made perfect sense. Spike had stood at her side many times before now – even before he had been in love with her – so it shouldn’t have been remarkable that that was where he stood now, supporting her when life became too much to bear. She had wondered before if there was anyone who could provide some relief – and she had been pleasantly surprised to find that, once she stopped fighting him, Spike was more than capable of holding her head above water.
Even his support couldn’t stop the world from encroaching though and she found herself overwhelmed. So, you couldn’t really blame her when an accident that turned her invisible gave her a chance to be free, just for a few hours. She had been in town, finally getting her too-long hair cut and styled, and she had been hit by, well, something. At first, she wasn’t sure what it had done – she certainly wasn’t injured – but after a few collisions with people around her, it quickly became clear that, like some crazy comic book hero, she was invisible.



For the first twenty minutes, it had been a little disconcerting, but she had quickly grown used to it and was actually enjoying herself. She had stopped by the shop briefly and Anya and Xander had both been concerned, but she had been on too much of a high to pay much attention to them. They were probably on the phone to Giles and Willow now, but she had more important things to do. Well, more fun things. She smiled to herself and sped up her steps as she headed across town. She was heading for Spike’s crypt and she smiled as it came into view: the vampire wasn’t going to know what had hit him.
She reached his crypt and pushed open the door quietly, not wanting to give anything away. The main room was empty and she smiled once more, knowing that he would be asleep downstairs. She moved to the hole in the floor and crept down the ladder silently, rounding the corner and taking in the sight of a peaceful-looking Spike. She watched him for several long moments, eyes flicking over his bare chest and then back up to his adorably tousled hair. She grinned and moved forward, grabbing the end of the sheet that covered him.



With one swift movement, she tugged it away from him and let it fall to the floor. Surprisingly – considering how deep a sleeper he usually was – he bolted awake, gaze flying around the room suspiciously.



“What the - ?!”


She had to cover her mouth to stop a giggle from giving her away. Unable to stop herself, she let her gaze slide over his naked form and she felt a blush warming her cheeks. She was just glad he couldn’t see her.


“Buffy?”


At the sound of his voice, she jerked her gaze to him, wondering how he knew it was her – or if he was just guessing. She said nothing and remained deathly still as he shifted to the end of the bed, grabbing the sheet from the floor and draping it over his lap – much to her disappointment.


“Slayer?” he repeated lowly, his eyes searching the room. She crept forward now, moving just to his side and reaching out a hand to glide her fingers over his bare shoulder. In a flash, he reached up and grabbed her hand and she froze in surprise.


“Buffy,” he got out coaxingly, reaching out with his free hand blindly.


She shifted out of his reach, but with a smile, she lowered her head, letting her breath brush over his ear.


“Yes?”


He laughed and before she could move, he managed to catch her around the waist and tug her down onto the bed clumsily. Keeping one hand locked around her wrist, he sat back and looked at her – or tried to anyway.


“You’re invisible.”


“Well, duh,” she teased and he narrowed his eyes at her.


She smiled and sat up, persuading him to release her with a slight wriggle of her wrist. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and tucked her legs over his, her free hand coming to rest on his chest. He remained still and she leaned in to press her lips to his shoulder, tracing teasing patterns over his skin as she moved to his neck.


“You gonna tell me what happened?” he asked, his voice delightfully husky.


“Maybe later,” she whispered. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ She propped herself up against the end of the bed and watched Spike as he lay beside her, a tiny smile on his face, eyes sleepy but sated. She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair – unable to resist. He closed his eyes and moved into her touch. She smiled and sat back, letting out a long breath. Once again, being with Spike had rid her of all of her worries – at least temporarily.


“Spike?”


She had been so caught up in relaxing – and so had Spike it seemed – that neither of them had noticed their visitor until Riley spoke up. Spike sat up quickly and she widened her eyes – and then had to suppress a giggle when she realised Riley couldn’t see her.


“Alright,” Spike replied with a nod, trying for nonchalant.


Riley frowned at him for a moment but then shook it off.


“It’s Buffy.”


“Isn’t it always?” Spike asked with a smile and she pinched him on the arm. He jerked away but turned it into a stretch. “What’s up?”


“She’s gone missing,” Riley explained, “Well, actually, she’s gone invisible. I just spoke to Xander.”


“What’s the problem then?” Spike asked.


Not really interested in their conversation, she was busy amusing herself with tracing patterns over Spike’s bare skin, testing him to see if he would break.


“…she could die.”


Hearing these words, her hand stilled on Spike’s back and her gaze flew to Riley.



“Mind repeatin’ that?” Spike asked and she had a feeling it was because he sensed her surprise.


“She’s, I don’t know, disintegrating.”


She was suddenly very attentive and she sat up straighter.


“What do we need to do?”


“Find Buffy,” Riley replied, “Quickly. Willow’s trying to find a cure or… something.”


Spike paused and turned to look at her and she let out a little sigh before speaking up.


“I’m right here, Riley.”


She would have laughed at the look of surprise on Riley’s face if the situation hadn’t been so serious. So much for all her worries having dissipated.


“Buffy?!”


“Yeah. I’m here.”


She stood up, drawing her shirt around her and doing it up, even though Riley could not see her. She saw him throw a look at Spike, the bed, and then in her general direction again and had no doubt that he was jumping to conclusions – or rather, figuring out the truth of her presence here.


“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly and she smiled affectionately. Despite their history, Riley would always hold a place in her heart.


“Not disintegrating yet,” she joked.


“G-good.”


“So, we should go,” she said, attempting to draw Riley out of his daze.


“Right. Yeah.”




She brushed her hand against Spike’s shoulder as she passed him and took her place next to Riley.


“I’ll see you later, Spike,” she said quietly, feeling a bit like an embarrassed teenager with Riley stood next to her.


“Later, love.”


Riley turned to go and she paused for a moment before following him.


“Buffy?” he called, just before reaching the ladder.


“I’m still here,” she replied with a smile.


“You could at least talk. You’re kinda freaking me out.”


“I’m kind of enjoying it,” she said with a laugh.


“I can tell,” Riley remarked wryly and she took a look up at his face. He was smiling ever so slightly and she smiled too.


“So I’m melting away…” she commented.


“Not if I have anything to do with it.”


She smiled and fell into step beside him as they left the crypt. She guessed it was probably time to go back to the real world

Buffy was soon reverted to her usual visible self and Riley could not help noticing that some of her good mood seemed to have stayed behind. Even as she thanked her friends for their help, she seemed quieter than she had been all evening – certainly a lot less cheerful than she had been on their trip all the way to the shop. She had spent the entire journey chatting away happily and, despite the seriousness of the situation, he had been glad of it. Glad of the distraction, because he would have given anything not to be forced to dwell on just what Buffy had been doing in Spike’s bedroom. With an obviously naked Spike. That was something he would deal with at a much later time.



Right now, he had something more important to focus on anyway and his pace sped up as he crossed town, headed for the Magic Box. He didn’t presume that anything he said would have an effect, but he was determined to talk to Giles, to find out why he was ready to abandon his Slayer and fly back to England. If there was anything he could do to prevent this, and the inevitable pain it would cause Buffy, then he was going to act now. He found Anya and Willow in the shop, Anya counting the contents of the till and Willow determinedly reading a history book. After he had greeted them – glad to see the witch looking better and better every day– he asked them where he could find Giles.


“He’s in the stock room,” Anya replied, “It’s inventory time and it’s so boring I could kill someone. He likes it though.”


She gave a little shrug and he smiled, thanking her and moving round to the door leading down into the stock room. He shut the door behind him and moved to the top of the stairs, pausing when he heard voices.


“You’re not listenin’ to me, Rupert. The girl needs you.”


He heard a distinct sigh from Giles and then the Watcher replied to Spike.


“It’s been a long time since Buffy really needed me.”


“Bloody hell, man! Stop wallowing in self-pity and wake up! Buffy needs you here.”

He crept forward a few paces, to the top of the stairs, and spotted the two Brits just across the room. Giles sat on a chair, looking tired and slightly harassed as Spike paced in front of him. Spike stopped and turned to the Watcher seriously.


“If you leave, I don’t know what she might do.”


“She’s coping just fine,” Giles commented, “I have no doubt she will continue to be fine in my absence.”


Spike barked out a laugh and shook his head.


“You’re a blind idiot!”


“Spike, I really-“


Giles had looked ready to finish this discussion and leave but as soon as he got to his feet, Spike cut in angrily.


“What exactly is going just fine in her life?!” he bit out, “The fact that she hasn’t got a job yet?”


“She’s at an interview-“


“Or maybe the fact that her best friend is still twitching with magic overload and living in her house rent free?”


“Willow-“


“Oh, and I’m sure looking after a fifteen-year-old is just a walk in the bloody park!”




Spike seemed to have run out of steam and stood a few paces away in silence, obviously attempting to calm himself down.


“I’ve been helping Buffy financially as much as I can.”


Spike laughed bitterly and turned to face the other Brit.


“You don’t get it, do you? It’s not just about the money. She needs someone she can rely on, someone who can help her do some of the grown-up stuff her mum used to do.”


“She has friends who are more than willing to help.”


“Yeah, real useful, they are. One’s a recovering addict and the other one’s shaking in his boots about this wedding.”


There was a pause and then Spike let out a sigh, raising his head to meet the other man’s eyes.


“I’ll tell you something I once told Buffy. The only reason she’s still here is because she’s got ties to the world. Friends, family and all that. If she loses that connection… well, you and I both know how long a lone Slayer usually lasts.”


Giles seemed to be genuinely considering this and Spike watched him intently before continuing in a low voice.


“Already lost her once, Rupert. Can’t let it happen again.”


There was another pause and then Spike continued.


“I’m sure Soldier Boy agrees.”


The vampire turned and met his gaze as Giles looked up in surprise. Riley descended the stairs then and moved to join them.


“So you’ve come to join the attack as well?” Giles asked with a wry smile. Riley considered his words for a moment, glanced at the vampire, and then spoke up.


“I don’t think you leaving will help Buffy at all. She still relies on you.”


“Maybe she shouldn’t.”


“Maybe she shouldn’t,” Riley repeated, holding up a hand as Spike went to protest, “But, considering the circumstances, it’s understandable. She lost her mom. Then she was… gone. She needs some stability now.”


“If it’s old Blighty you’re missing, she’s not going anywhere,” Spike added, “But Buffy needs you right now. That’s a bit more important, eh?”


Giles replaced his glasses and looked between the two of them with an unreadable expression.


“I find I don’t have the energy to fight both of you,” he said with a tiny smile, “And certainly not to face Buffy if I did decide to leave.”


“So you’re going to stay?” Riley asked as the Watcher rose to his feet.


“It looks like I must,” he replied softly, “If Buffy needs me so desperately.”


He moved past them but paused at the bottom of the stairs, turning back to them.


“Although, I’m not sure how much more help she needs with you two fighting her corner.”


He regarded them for a moment longer and then made his way back up the stairs to the shop. They were silent for a moment and then he turned to the vampire with a half-smile.


“Well, that was a success, I guess.”


Spike took a moment to light up a cigarette and take a long drag on it, but then he finally answered.


“One less thing for Buffy to worry about.”


“Yeah… And Giles said she was at an interview?”


“It’s at a bloody fast food place,” Spike said with a scowl, “Told her she could do better than that but she said she needed the money.”


“At least it could be something temporary,” Riley suggested, “Until she finds something better.”


“Told her I’d get her money,” Spike mumbled, blowing out an angry stream of smoke.


“She wants to stand on her own two feet. That seems like a good thing.”


Spike shrugged and took another drag. He looked to the ceiling and then met Riley’s gaze.


“I should get going.”


“Sure.”


“Thanks for the timely back-up.”


“It was nothing.”


Spike nodded and headed for the back of the stock room, disappearing into the darkness. Smiling wryly, Riley turned on his heel and headed for the stairs, making his way up into the shop.