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Chapter 1:

Damn, damn, damn and double damn! Why was it that the phone always had to ring when you were running late? The half dressed blonde ran down the stairs; almost falling in the process, to reach the phone just in time, out of breath and flustered.

"Hello?" Buffy listened for a response. "Hello?"

She heard a sigh, and then a barely audible whisper, so faint that she had to strain to even hear the single word:"Buffy."

One word was all it took to bring back the whirl of emotions from where she locked them up so long ago. One word and she was over-whelmed by the feelings of worry, love, lust and anger all over again. Even though she hadn’t heard the voice any place in the last two years, (that is if you didn’t count the dreams she still had regularly) she didn’t even have to wonder who it was. After what seemed to be an eternity to both of them she stuttered, "Sp– Spike."

She could just see his cocky grin when he said "That ‘tis. Long time, no chat. How are you luv?"

Buffy knew she shouldn’t react, so she tried and failed to keep all her pent up anger in, but to hear him brush off his two-year self-inflicted exile as something so meaningless just got to her.
"Long time indeed, William. I’m just fine and ‘bloody dandy’, unlike how I was about two years ago, but you wouldn’t know anything about that now would you?" she spat.

A bewildered Spike sat dumbly at the other end of the phone. She was obviously angry. She never called him William unless she was furious. But what right had she to be angry? She was the one who told him to go back to England to see his gran. (Okay, he might have been away a bit longer than planned, but still!) She was the one who wanted to make a clean break.

"Look, luv, what can I say? Just did what you wanted."

"What I wanted?" Her voice was as cold as steel. " What I wanted was you. I wanted you to be here with me; I wanted you to come back, and at the very least I wanted to be in contact with you!"

"Well then why didn’t you say that at the time? You had the address, you had the phone number. If you wanted to get in touch that badly you could have. I just left the ball in your court. Couldn’t figure out what to do after our last conversation."

She inwardly cringed. What could she tell him? She couldn’t tell him the truth that was for sure. She couldn’t tell anyone the truth. No one could know. But at the same time she couldn’t lie to him. It was Spike; he’d know in an instant if she were lying.

"Well, after that argument I was so pissed off with you I um . . .well I kinda took everything that reminded me of you and um . . . burned it. Including where the address and the phone number were written down."

"Everything?" was his panicked reply.

"Not the duster. I couldn’t do that, besides it looks good on me." She heard him sigh with relief.

That wasn’t the real reason. She’d kept it because she wanted a reminder of him and the only reason she was able to keep it was because she had convinced Angel that it wasn’t Spikes. She claimed to have gotten the same coat. He’d kill her if he ever found out she’d kept it

“That it does, luv, that it does."

"So why did you call anyway?"

"To tell you that I’m coming home"

Her head was reeling. Part of her wanted him home, to feel his arms wrapped around her, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen, and she didn’t know how to explain it to him.






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