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Chapter 19

"Okay, these heels are so not made for jumping from second story windows!" Harmony complained as she and Spike stood on the roof. Spike rolled his eyes and took her hand and they leapt. He landed first, almost crumpling to his knees after impact but managing to stay upright, Harmony however landing gracefully on the aforementioned heels. They went to gather with the others, most of the girls were huddling together. The fire department had arrived and were already gearing up to control the fire. The house however was a clear loss.

"Oh my poor house!" Harmony cried.

"Sorry, pet, truly, but we're alive," Spike said to comfort her."Alive..."

Now that the crisis had passed his thoughts returned to Buffy. He walked away from the group, unaware that Harmony was watching him. With the glow of the raging fire behind him, he walked down the street, feeling as empty and bereft as ever. Tears fell over his cheeks again as he tried to recapture every memory he had of his golden girl, his lost Slayer. He recalled her laugh, her voice, her touch, her scent. The memory of her scent permeated his brain as strongly as if she were here with him now.

He opened his eyes, suddenly overcome with a quizzical sensation. He inhaled deeply, and again, and once more. It couldn't be... It wasn't her perfume or her shampoo that could be mistaken on any girl, it was her sweat, her skin, her sweet juices, her blood. It was Buffy. She'd been in this very spot moments ago. Frantically he scanned the street for her, too excited to deny his hope that it were true. He ran after the scent.

Harmony came to the same spot he'd been and came to the same conclusion,"God my karma sucks."

***

He tried to control himself, but he was manic in searching for her, running around like a mad hare. Sure enough, his instincts did not fail him and he saw her small, shadowed figure at the dark end of the street, walking slowly. He took off in a sprint, determined to swoop her up in his arms, but instead he stopped short. There was uncertainty.

"Buffy?" he croaked, reaching out, but not quite touching her. She turned around, teetering a little and holding her arms out to balance herself. Quickly he steadied her, taking her hands in his. He laughed a sound of pure joy, she was real. She wasn't a zombie, or some walking undead, it was the really real Buffy and she was so cold he felt himself warming her.

"Th...there y...you...are..." she whispered, teeth chattering,"B...been looking f..for you..."

"God, oh what gift are you giving me?" She smiled at him, looking rather dopey and sweet. He wrapped his arms around her and sobbed into her neck. He slid down her body to his knees and buried his face at her belly, kissing and crying. His hands were all over her, desperate to touch every inch of his perfect, beautiful Buffy he never thought he hold again. It was then he noticed that she was all but naked. He pulled back and realized that she wore only a scrap of material and her skin was like gooseflesh. He stripped off Giles' suit jacket and put it around her shoulders, then proceeded to roughly rub her calves and thighs to get her circulation stimulated. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Don't you remember?" She shook her head, her sweet face scrunching up, confusion plaguing her.

"Anya and I were gonna come find you. I needed you."

He didn't have a reply for her then, there'd be time enough to explain, and to figure it out later, but for right now he just let himself be purely happy. He stood up and held her tightly to him again and this time she held him back.

"I'm always, always here with you, I'm never anywhere else. Even when we're apart, no matter how short or long a time, my soul, love, is wrapped around yours."

She giggled and snuggled up closer.

"I'm sleepy. I wanna go home." He agreed wholeheartedly and took her up in his arms, carrying her towards home, every moment thanking the Powers for the grace of a miracle.

Chapter 20

Buffy clung to Spike's shirt as they neared the house. She thought her cold was finally gone, she could certainly breathe easier and her head felt increasingly clearer. She yawned and wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling her nose under his chin, her cheek to his throat. He held her up high, with his two arms trying to blanket her completely. He was breathing hard, shaky, wanting so much to scream and cry at her for letting him believe she was dead, but of course he knew that she had nothing to do with it, she'd been severely poisoned and may not be out of the woods yet. He quickened his pace, perhaps Willow had managed to complete the antidote before news of Buffy's supposed death hit home.

"Spike?" Buffy questioned quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart? We're almost home, less than a block."

"Okay. I just wanted to tell you that I loved you."

"I love you too, my heart."

"I love all your little nicknames for me too. Pet, love, sweetheart, goldilocks..." She giggled again. It was sweet, but Spike knew she wasn't quite herself yet, that this coquettish behavior was a sign of abnormality."And you're my Big Bad, my vampire, my peroxide prince."

"Yeah, darlin', that's me."

He paused at the front door to the house, taking a moment before going inside, there would be questions, shock, joy, fright. None of that was more important than the fact that a couple of hours ago Buffy was dead, and now she wasn't. He carefully held her while he opened the door, slipping inside as quietly as possible. He wasn't about to shout the news out followed by 76 bloody trombones. He nudged the door behind him with his foot until he heard it click shut. He kissed the top of her head,"We're home, Buffy."

"Yahoo...bed please, so tired."

"Not yet, soon though."

Willow emerged from the kitchen, thinking she'd heard something. When she saw them, her hands flew up to cover her mouth to hold in her exclamation as she came closer.

"Spike!" the witch whispered hoarsely,"You stole her body?!"

Buffy turned her face and smiled, giving her best friend a little wave.

"Willow, the antidote to the Pluthor poison, have you got it?" Spike asked. Willow, still in shock, nodded her head enthusiastically."Go on then, you silly bint!"

Willow bolted back to the kitchen and Spike sighed, any second now there would be a stampede.

Sure enough, there was.

Giles was the first, having to lean against the wall as he was overcome at the sight of Buffy's third resurrection. She didn't seem particularly interested, she was lulled against Spike, just gazing over at her pseudo-father. Dawn followed next, almost seemingly afraid to touch Buffy.

"Pet, gonna put you down now, alright?" She shook her head and glommed on more fiercely to him,"It'll be alright, darlin', I'm right here. Don't you wanna say hello to your friends? Your lil' sis." Reluctantly she found her footing, leaning back against Spike for both support and contact. The others had come too and before Buffy knew what was happening, she was consumed into a huge group hug. Spike hung back and let the reunions take place, even though Buffy still seemed absent from it, trying to talk to them, but still seeming a little lost. The Pluthor poisoning was an enigma to begin with, how the disease was running its course was still a mystery. For all they knew there could be serious residual effects or complications. Hopefully Willow's antidote would help determine the outcome.

On cue, the witch return with a tumbler of thin, brownish liquid. It looked like tea, but it certainly didn't smell like it. Spike took it from Willow and approached the Slayer.

"Buffy, love, you need to drink this please."

Buffy immediately turned her nose up at it, scrunching her face up in obvious disgust.

"Not on your unlife," she whined.

"Slayer, either you drink it down right now or you know I'll bloody well force it down your gullet," Spike countered, starring deep into her eyes. She grabbed it from him and scowled.

"You're so mean to me." She chugged it down, gagging and screwing her face up like a unblooming rose. Spike smiled, feeling another swell of admiration and love rise up. He was thankful that vampires didn't blush, intense emotions always turned his face bright red when he'd been human. "Blehhh!!" She stuck her tongue out and gave her head a shake. The same melodious, beautiful sound as whenever they'd done whiskey shots together.

The change was immediately perceptible, especially to Spike. Her body temperature evened out, the hazy slope to her gaze brightened and focused, her hair even seemed to regain a certain sheen. She breathed in a full breath and let it out, blinking rapidly, then relaxing into Spike as if finally coming home at journey's end.

"Hmm, headache's gone," she mumbled, rubbing her face.

"Good, love, real good," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. The others shared smiles, and Buffy let the fragments of memories from this long horrible night piece themselves together. The the still incomplete picture had her standing here with her mate embracing her. Everything was almost as it should be, her few lost memories couldn't be that important. Though vaguely she recalled something to do with matches. She remembered waking in the morgue clearly enough and shuddered. There was only one cure for wiggins so major. She touched Spike's hand in such a way that the message was clear.

"If you'll pardon us, the Slayer and I must attend to something."





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