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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for all the reviews...Don't be mad at me...
"Thank you," Angel said when he dropped Buffy off at her apartment half an hour later. "By the way, there's a formal dinner with a few hundred of my father's closest friends Monday night," he said casually. "I'd very much like it if you would attend it with me."

Buffy looked up at Angel, realizing she hadn't heard what he'd said. She hurt too much. Spike didn't love her, didn't want her. She'd all but blurted out her love for him, and he'd rejected her, insisted Angel needed her, and then walked away. As he always did.

"Buffy, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." How easily the lie came, even though she was falling apart on the inside.

"I was asking you about the dinner party."

She blinked. Dinner party?


"Monday night," he said slowly, waving a hand in front of her face. "You'd better tell me what's wrong."

"Would it be all right if I go in now?" she asked, instead. She wasn't in the mood to explain anything, least of all what had happened between her and Spike.

"Of course."

Angel insisted on escorting her into her apartment. He placed her tennis racket in the hall closet and stepped into her kitchen to get her a glass of water.

Buffy sat at the table and smiled her appreciation weakly. "I'm fine," she said, and this time it was a little less of a lie. Yes, she hurt but it was a clean cut, deep and swift. She knew now what she'd suspected all along. Spike didn't want her, didn't love her.

"Thank you, Buff," Angel said again, and although his words were casual, Buffy sensed a deeper meaning.

"For letting you kick my ass in tennis?" she asked, knowing it was much more than that.

The smile faded from his eyes. "For that, too, but mostly for listening to me these last few days. Talking about Faith really helped clear my head. It's shown me what went wrong between us and helped me realize how much I still love her." This was issued with a pain-filled sigh.

"That isn't a sin, Angel." Any more than her loving Spike was a sin.

"Talking is what's helped me. Perhaps you should take note and tell me what's troubling you. You can't fool me - those are tears glistening in your eyes."

Instinctively she lowered her gaze, focusing her attention on the water glass. "I…I'm not ready to talk just yet. Don't be upset with me. I have to sort through my own feelings first."

His hand covered hers. "I understand. You will attend the dinner party with me, won't you?"

Buffy's first inclination was to refuse. Instead, she nodded, "All right." Sitting home feeling sorry for herself would solve nothing, no matter how appealing it may sound. Nor would she give Spike the satisfaction. From here on out she was going to kick up her heels, or something cliché like that, and enjoy life. Even if it killed her, and that was what it felt like just now.

"Spike will be there," Angel said as if he expected her to comment.

She nodded. After this afternoon it made no difference.

"He'll be bringing someone, too," Angel added. "You won't mind if we share a table, will you?"

"I won't mind in the least," Buffy said brightly. "The more the merrier."



"I thought we'd look through your wardrobe before dinner," Cordy said as she entered Buffy's apartment. Buffy realized her mistake the moment she'd mentioned the dinner party to her friend. From that point on, Cordy insisted she choose the dress.

"I've managed to dress myself without a problem for several years now," Buffy felt obliged to say.

Cordy was sorting through the dresses in her closet, shuffling them from one side to another as if this was a mission of great importance. She paused and tapped her foot impatiently. "I can't tell you how disappointed I am in Spike. You're sure you didn't misunderstand him or something?" She sounded as though the fault was Buffy's.

"There was no misunderstanding," Buffy said firmly, wishing she'd never mentioned the incident to Cordy. She wouldn't have except that her friend had been in on virtually every phase of this…this mess. "He doesn't want anything to do with me. He couldn't have made it any clearer."

"I don't believe it. There's something very wrong here, and it's up to you to figure what it is."

"I know what it is," Buffy protested. It wasn't necessary to dissect the problem when the answer was so simple. If Spike did care for her, he would've found a way to make things right. But he didn't, and he hadn't.

"You're coming to my opening night, aren't you?" Cordy asked as she continued to examine the contents of Buffy's closet.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Buffy was proud of Cordy's "BIG break." She'd gotten the plum role of Adelaide, after all, in the local production of Guys and Dolls. Cordy also had a thing for one of the set builders - she always talked about his "salty goodness" after each rehearsal.

"I think I'll invite Spike to the opening," Cordy suggested nonchalantly. "After all, I have met him."

"Do what you want, Cordy," Buffy replied, defeated.

Cordy's laugh was short and telling. "You can't fool me, Buff, I know you too well. I don't know what's wrong with Spike, but trust me, he'll soon come around."

"I sincerely doubt it." Buffy hated to be so pessimistic, but she couldn't stop herself.

Cordy took three dresses from the closet and laid them across her friend's bed. Her hands on her hips, she circled the bed staring at the dresses, eyed Buffy critically, and then returned two of the dresses to the closet.

Buffy reached over and grabbed the remaining dress. It was a red velvet dress with a dramatic side hem that mirrored the one-sleeved neckline. Buffy slowly put it on and examined herself in the mirror.

Cordy came up behind her and softly said, "Perfect."

Buffy smiled, tears glistening in her eyes before whispering, "Almost."

If her escort were the other Giles brother, it would be.



Angel had arrived to pick her up for the dinner party five minutes ahead of schedule, just as Buffy was putting the finishing touches to her makeup. "Beautiful," he said, taking both of her hands in his. "You're absolutely beautiful."

His appreciation lent Buffy confidence - until they reached the table where Spike and his date were sitting. The woman was tall, dark and gorgeous. Every woman's basic nightmare. So much for best-laid plans.

"Drusilla Powell," Spike said. "My brother, Liam, and Buffy Summers."

Buffy's gaze moved to Spike, and she was gratified to discover he was staring at her the way a child gazes into a store window at Christmas time. Cordy had been right - the dress was perfect. Spike abruptly looked away as if angry with himself for being so obvious.

"Drusilla," Angel said, taking the other woman's hand and holding it several moments longer than necessary. "Call me Angel - every one else does."

Dinner was a drawn-out affair, with long speeches congratulating Giles on a job well done. Buffy lost count of the number of speakers and the number of courses served, but they seemed to be running neck and neck. The speeches made dinner conversation almost impossible, but Buffy did manage to learn that "Dru" was a longtime friend of Spike's. Friends and nothing more, Dru went on to explain, reading the situation with amazing accuracy. As for Spike, well, he pretended she wasn't there. He didn't say one word to her the entire meal.

When the dessert dishes were removed, a ten-piece orchestra began to play on a low stage behind the polished oak dance floor.

"You game?" Angel asked, holding out his hand to Buffy. Angel was tapping his foot and swaying his shoulders.

Buffy declined. She wasn't too keen on being one of the first ones on the floor. "Oh, no. Sorry, Angel, but I'd rather sit out for a few."

"I won't take no for an answer." Angel all but pulled her out of her chair. He led her onto the dance floor, and although the number was fast, he brought her into his arms and held her close.

"Angel," she hissed, acutely aware of the impression they were creating. It looked as if they were madly in love and couldn't bear to be separated.

"Shh," he whispered close to her ear.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Me?" he asked, and then threw back his head and laugh as if she'd said something uproariously funny before continuing, "Nothing. I'm having a good time, that's all."

"At my expense," she told him in an angry whisper. "Soon everyone will be talking about us."

"Let them."

"Something is very wrong," Buffy insisted.

He laughed again. "Not exactly, but soon everything should be just right."

Clearly, Buffy didn't have a clue what he meant, but she wasn't going to continue with this farce any longer than necessary. As soon as the number finished, she broke away from him and returned to their table.

"Buffy's knee is bothering her," Angel explained, and before she realized what was happening, Angel had asked Dru to dance and the pair stood and left the table. Spike looked unnerved.

"Well," Buffy said dryly, "I guess you can't keep a good man down."

Spike frowned darkly. "He might have asked someone other than my bloody date." His hand closed around his water glass, and he seemed intent on studying the dancing couples. Intent on not making conversation with her, Buffy thought, which was fine. Just fine. Everything had already been said as far as she could see, and apparently Spike felt the same way.

"How's your knee?" Spike asked unexpectedly.

"It's okay. Angel was using it as an excuse to dance with Dru."

The music circled them in a warm halo of melody. Soon Buffy was tapping her foot, wishing she hadn't been so quick to insist she leave the dance floor.

"Come on," Spike said with a decided lack of enthusiasm. He stood and offered her his hand.

Stunned, Buffy looked up at him.

"There's nothing worse than sitting with a woman who obviously wants to dance."

"There's nothing worse than dancing with someone who obviously doesn't want to be your partner," she countered back haughtily. He just shook his head and took her hand anyway, completely ignoring her comment. He was muttering something under his breath, which she couldn't quite make out. She did hear Angel's name, and she guessed he wasn't pleased with his brother.

Buffy wanted to kick Angel for leaving her alone with Spike. The orchestra had been playing fast-paced songs, but when Spike and Buffy moved onto the floor, the band began a slow, dreamy number. The lights lowered and Buffy groaned inwardly.

"Let's sit this one out," Buffy all but begged.

"Not on your life," Spike said, easing her into his arms. She didn't understand why he felt obliged to dance with her. He held her stiffly in his arms as though afraid to bring her close. His back was rigid and he stared straight ahead.

"Relax," he whispered impatiently. "I won't bite."

"Me?" she said. "I might as well be dancing with a mannequin."

"Okay, let's both make an effort then."

Buffy hadn't realized she was so tense. Determined to do as he suggested, she closed her eyes and released a slow sigh. She felt the tension ease from Spike, and when she opened her eyes he'd brought her closer, close enough for her to rest her head on his shoulder. The solace she found, as their bodies swayed gently to the rhythm, was worth every minute she'd waited to feel his arms around her.


This is where I belong, she mused sadly, where I've always belonged. They fit perfectly. Surely Spike felt it too. Why else would he be holding her as if she was the most precious thing in his world? Why else would his lips be moving against her hair as if he longed to kiss her?

Neither spoke, knowing words would only destroy the moment. She clung to him even when the music stopped, not wanting this blissful time to end.

"We should get back to the table, pet," Spike said softly, and the reluctance she heard in his voice gave her hope.

"I don't see Angel or Dru. Surely it couldn't hurt to dance at least one more number… Do you want to continue dancing, with me?" she asked.

He didn't answer her for a long moment, and then said gruffly, "Yes."

"Good, I do, too…"

"Buffy… Listen…"

She chanced raising her face and looking at him, her eyes filled with a longing so great she couldn't hide it. Pressing a finger over his mouth, she smiled. "Please, Spike, not now."

He briefly closed his eyes, sighed, and nodded.

Buffy lost track of time. She knew they danced far longer than they should have, for more numbers than she could count. Every once in a while she glanced at their table, but neither Dru nor Angel were in sight.

It wasn't until the music sped up again that he revealed any signs of regret. She knew something was wrong the minute he eased her from his arms. His face hardened. She looked up at him and blinked, not understanding.

"I should bloody stake my brother for this," Spike muttered.

"For what?" she asked softly.

A muscle in his jaw jerked as he reined in his temper, but that was the only answer she got.

They left the dance floor and sat like strangers at the table. Buffy couldn't bear it any longer. She stood, excused herself and moved from table to table to greet several old family friends. She returned only when she saw that Angel joined his brother. Dru was nowhere in sight. The two brothers seemed to be having a rapid intense exchange of words, but when she approached, Spike clamped his mouth closed and looked the other way.

"I've neglected you," Angel said contritely, claiming her hand between both of his. "I'm sorry, Buffy. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course." What else could she do? Demand that he immediately take her home? That would have been silly. Especially since she wasn't interested in him as anything other than a friend. Besides, his neglect had given her all that time with Spike.

A breathless and laughing Dru returned to the table a few moments later, and the four them ordered drinks. The waitress had just brought their order when Giles and Jenny approached their table.

"I hope you four are enjoying yourselves."

Angel said that they certainly had been.

Jenny smiled compassionately down on Buffy, and then gently placed her hands on Buffy's shoulders, leaning forward so that their heads were close together. "We owe you so much," she said, kissing her cheek.

"No, not really…" she replied, blushing. The words embarrassed her.

"It's true. Tell her, Rupert," Jenny insisted. "We were about to despair over what was happening with Liam, and that all changed the minute you started working for the firm."

"Mother…" Angel didn't seem to appreciate this, either.

"It's true. You have no idea how pleased Joyce and I are that the two of you are seeing so much of each other," Jenny continued.

"I have to agree with your mother," Giles said in his deep, British-accented voice. "You're a good man, Angel, with a bright future. It was a bloody shame to watch you waste your life over a woman you couldn't have. It's much better now that you're seeing Elizabeth."

A stilted uncomfortable silence followed the father's praise. Within a few minutes of the elder Giles' visit to their table, Spike made an excuse, and he and Dru got up and left. After that, Angel didn't seem too keen to stay either. As for Buffy, she was more than happy to get home. Enough is enough, she thought to herself.



She laid awake most of the night thinking, and by daybreak, she'd made her decision. With purpose driving her steps, Buffy walked into the office the next morning, her eyes burning from lack of sleep.

"I need to see William for a moment," she told Anya.

Anya, noting the determination in Buffy's voice, reached instantly for the intercom and announced her.

Buffy strode into Spike's office and stood before him. He was sitting behind his desk reading a file. He glanced up, his expression guarded, unreadable. "What can I do for you, Buffy?"

Her heart pounding, she said flatly, "I'm resigning from my position with this firm, effective immediately." It was an impulsive thing to do, Buffy realized, considering how difficult it was these days to find a job, but her sanity was more important. She'd do temp. work if she had to. Or work in another field.

If Spike was surprised by her announcement, he didn't reveal it. He leaned back in his chair, calm and composed. "This is rather sudden, isn't it?"

"Yes…but I have to." She avoided eye contact by studying the painting on the wall behind him. It was a seascape with the ocean crashing against a jagged edge of a protruding rock. A bird was perched on the uppermost point of the rock, undisturbed by the raging sea. Buffy wished she could be more like that bird.

"Does Angel know?"

"Not yet," she replied. "Since you were the one to hire me, I felt obligated to tell you first." She was trying her hardest to stand firm and keep this as business-like as possible, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could do that.

He paused as if gathering his thoughts. "If you could work out your two-week notice, I'd really appreciate it."

Buffy wasn't sure what she'd expected. Nothing, she'd told herself, but she realized now that wasn't true. In the deepest part of her, she was praying Spike would ask her to reconsider, that he'd make at least one attempt to change her mind. Perhaps a raise or some other inducement. Instead, he calmly accepted her resignation as if he was almost pleased to see her go.

That hurt. A lot. She held the pain to herself for as long as she could, before turning and walking toward the door.

"Buffy."

She stopped, but didn't turn around.

"You've been a valuable asset to this firm, and we'll miss you."

That was all he was willing to offer. It was damn little.

"Thanks," she whispered, and then walked out the door.

She was trembling by the time she sat down at her own desk. After taking a moment to compose herself, she reached for the phone and dialed Cordy's number.

"You did what?" her friend cried.

Buffy never used the office phone for personal calls before, but she made this day the exception. "You heard me. I quit."

"But why?"

"It's a long story," she murmured, "but suffice to say, I'm tired of this whole thing. I'm over it."

"No, you're not. Spike loves you."

"No," she whispered softly, voice filled with regret, "he doesn't." Cordy's comments and her own foolish heart had swayed her, because she so desperately wanted to believe it was true.

"Buffy, sweetie, don't be so hasty," Cordy all but begged.


It was either leave the firm or lose her sanity, Buffy mused. It'd been a mistake to contact Cordy; clearly, her friend didn't understand.

"What did Angel say?"

"He doesn't know yet," she admitted reluctantly. Not that it would make any difference. No argument Angel offered could convince her to change her mind.

"Just keep me informed, alright? Lately, your life is more interesting than anything on TV!"

Tara came into the office and stared at Buffy, looking as if she were about to burst into tears. "You're l-leaving!"

This office had an information network the CIA would envy. Buffy didn't bother to ask where Tara had heard the news; it didn't matter.

"But you can't go now, not when Liam's back to his old self… Or is it something he did? Did you two have a fight?" Tara asked, her face filled with concern.

"No, I just…I have to get out of here, move on, ya know?"

"Personally," said Tara, "I think it's awful to mix business with pleasure - things always turn sour."

"What does?" Angel asked, stepping into the room, carrying a leather briefcase and looking very much the professional he was. He paused at his secretary's desk and reached for his mail.

"Buffy's resigned," Tara said softly as if she feared being blamed for the whole thing.

Angel dropped his mail and turned to stare at Buffy, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open in disbelief. "Is it true?"

She nodded. Until she saw the look of dismay on his face, she hadn't believed he held any real affection for her.

"Come into my office," he commanded, leading the way and clearly expecting her to follow. When she was inside, he closed the door.

"What's this all about?" he demanded.

To the best of her memory, Buffy had never seen this side of Angel. He looked and acted like Spike. "It's time I moved on," she said weakly, not knowing exactly how much to say, if anything, about the real reason.

"After less than two months?"

She crossed her arms and shrugged.

"Are the hours too long?" Angel questioned, one hand on the phone.

"No."

"We're not paying you enough? Because I can make a phone call and-" Angel said, picking up the phone and beginning to dial.

"No, no, no." Buffy put the phone back on the receiver. "Angel, listen I just think that I need to move on and-"

"Well, may be you shouldn't do that," Angel interrupted.

"Do what?" Buffy asked, confused.

"Think."

"Angel," Buffy sighed.

"There must be a reason why you find it so nauseating to work for me."

"I never said I found it nauseating to work for you." She dropped her hands and formed tight fists at her sides. Angel was acting every bit the attorney.

"So it's the firm that's nauseating. Have we done something to offend you?"

"No! Nothing's nauseating. I never said nauseating - well, I just did but not referring to anyone in the firm or the firm in general…" she trailed off, hating this interrogation. Angel's reaction was certainly the opposite of Spike's. Angel was clearly upset at the idea of losing her.

"Then why? You owe me an explanation," he insisted.

"I don't feel I do…" She hesitated her stomach in knots.

"Is it something I've done?" His voice was gentler now, as if he was trying to soothe her, to gain her confidence.

"No," she assured him. "You've been just great... a good friend. I'll really treasure the time we've had together, Angel, but you don't love me and I don't love you. I think we should just appreciate what we do share and not try to make something of it that isn't there. And we shouldn't let our parents do so either."

He looked puzzled. "That's no reason to quit."

"Maybe not, but it's the right thing for me. Spike asked me to work out my two-weeks notice, which I'll gladly do, but I'm not going to change my mind."

"All right," he agreed reluctantly. "In the meantime, you don't mind if we continue to see one another, do you?" he asked, his 'sad eyes' firmly in place.

"I…don't think that would be a good idea… No it definitely wouldn't be."

Angel jerked back his head as though her answer amazed him. "Are you kidding me?"

"Angel," she sighed. "I really like you, and you're an amazing friend, but…"

"What about coffee to talk about old times?"

"Maybe…"

Angel grinned then, that devilishly handsome grin guaranteed to steal the heart of any woman. Well, not any woman… "I'm not letting you back out of our sailing date, though. I've been really counting on that. You aren't going to let me down, are you?"

"No, I won't let you down." Nevertheless, Buffy's heart sank as she remembered her promise to go out with Angel on his sailboat in three weeks. He'd made the 'date' before the formal dinner event. Before she'd known she wanted far, far away from all of the Giles.

He beamed her a wide smile before heading out to an "early lunch."



Buffy stayed late that night, wanting to clear her desk before she headed back to her apartment. Unconcerned by her stated reluctance to continue seeing him socially, Angel had asked her to dinner, but Buffy declined. Besides she'd been out late the night before, hadn't slept well, and was anxious to finish up at the office and go home.

She was leaving just as Spike came out of his office.

"Good night," she said trying her best to be cordial, cool, and indifferent. She moved down the corridor to wait for the elevator, where Spike soon joined her.

The doors opened, and they stepped inside together. They stood like strangers while the elevator made its descent. Buffy stared idly at the numbers above the door as they lit up one by one. Only a week earlier, she would have been thrilled to have these few seconds alone with Spike, and now she would give anything to just avoid him. Being this close to him physically and so far apart emotionally was agony in its purest form.

The elevator doors silently slid open, and Buffy stepped into the lobby, glad to make her escape. Spike would go about his life, and she would go about hers.

"Buffy." Spike sounded impatient, but she didn't know if it was with her or himself. "Do you want a ride home?"

"No, thanks. I'll just walk."

"I insist," Spike said in steely tones. "It's time we talked."

If Buffy had thought her heart was beating hard that morning when she entered his office, it didn't compare with the way it thundered against her ribs now.

Silently he led her to his car. He unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for her, then went around to the driver's side and climbed in. As he inserted the key into the ignition, he asked, "Did you tell Angel about your resignation?"

"Yeah," she mumbled softly.

"What did he have to say?" Spike asked, jaw clenched, never taking his eyes off the road.

She gestured weakly with her hands. "He asked me not to."

"And?"

"I'm gonna work out my two-week notice."

Spike's hands tightened around the steering wheel, but his face remained emotionless. "Why, Buffy?"

"Why should you care, Spike?" she returned, losing patience with him. "This morning you couldn't wait to get rid of me."

"That's not bloody true," he said sharply.

As he pulled up to her apartment building, she reached for the door handle saying, "I don't think this discussion is getting us anywhere."

"Buffy, stay for a few minutes. Please." His words were soft, without emotion and yet filled with it all at once.

Buffy hesitated. "Fine." She dropped her hand.

"Are you quitting because of what happened at the dinner?"

Confused, Buffy turned to study Spike. "Last night?"

"Well, Angel did bloody abandon you for some trollop. I know what a wanker Peaches can be and that your feelings must have been hurt, but-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" she said, twisting in her seat to look at him directly. "Are you kidding me? You don't honestly think that, do you?"

A puzzled look crowded his features. "Well, yeah. Clearly, Liam doesn't know how to treat a lady."

She was angrier than she could remember being in a long time. " Do you honestly think I'm so shallow I'd quit my fucking job in a fit of damn jealousy? Is that what you think of me?"

He blinked when she finished, as though he expected more.

Buffy threw open the car door, climbed out, and slammed it shut. "I have nothing more to say to you, and you obviously have nothing important to say. Good bye, William."

With that she marched away. She thought she heard Spike's car door close, but she didn't bother to look back.

"Buffy!" he called storming into the empty lobby.

She hesitated, tears were forming in her eyes, and she was having a hard time breathing properly.

"I'm sorry, pet," he said after a tense moment.

She understood then. He was apologizing for much more than their argument. He was telling her how much he regretted not loving her.





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