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"Something in the way she moves attracts me like no other lover,

Something in the way she woos me.

I don't want to leave her now, you know I believe and how.

Somewhere in her smile she knows that I don't need no other lover.

Something in her style that shows me …

You're asking me will my love grow, I don't know, I don't know.

You stick around now it may show, I don't know, I don't know."

- The Beatles, "Something"



* * *



The Watcher had wanted him to leave as soon and quietly as possible. He'd all but thrown the plane travel fare at Spike, helped the vampire gather his things and, if not for Spike threatening to change his mind, would have escorted the vampire the edge of town as well. But Spike's surliness seemed to shake the Watcher back into himself and with a muttered admonition to check in with him, emphasis on the him, he was off and Spike was finally, blessedly alone. Just to make sure Giles was really gone he sat and smoked for a bit in front of his crypt, his mind stretching backwards and forwards as he turned over everything that had changed since he first came to Sunnydale three years ago and everything he hoped would change upon his return. Despite himself, he couldn't quite crush the flare of hope that the Watcher's words had raised in him. Beneath all his cynicism and nonchalance still lurked his inner romantic and it had gotten hold of the idea of being some kind of hero and held onto it now for all it was worth. The part of Spike that currently wasn't channeling his inner Nancy Boy could do nothing but sit back and shore up his defenses for the inevitable sorrow that it was sure would follow. If there was anything he'd learned in all his years of living it was that love, no matter how strong, rarely ended well.



Suddenly disgusted with himself he tossed his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with more force than was strictly necessary. Still though, there he was mooning over the Slayer like a love-sick idiot while he put off the only real opportunity he had to win her. He was channeling Peaches to an uncomfortable degree and in an attempt to distance himself from any of his grand-sire's characteristics he decided that he would not go off quietly into the good night. Sod the Watcher, before he left he was going to say good-bye to his girl. And so, duffel bag hoisted, motorcycle ready and bravado in full swing he started off toward Revello Drive and what he hoped would be a goodbye to put Rhett and Scarlet to shame. It wasn't until he stood beneath her darkened window that he felt his confidence flag. After all, with his invitation revoked there was little he could do to get her attention. But, luckily for him a few small dirt clods lay dried near the base of the tree and with a few well aimed throws he soon saw the light turn on and the face of his love staring down at him from her window.



For a moment he lost himself in the simple pleasure of looking at her. Her face was still flushed with sleep, her hair mussed and radiant against the glow of her lamp and her eyes, those agate guardians as impassable as stone, seemed to him to soften slightly as she took him in, her mouth parting as she said his name. Reality returned to him with the force of a Pamplonian bull. His name on her lips was not a lover's sigh but an exclamation of annoyance, her features tight with worry as she waited for him to state his business, a thousand and one world ending Glory filled scenarios rampaging through her mind. This was not a woman who was a lover; she was a general with her back pressed against the wall and a losing battle looming before her. In her eyes he saw the spirit of others who had gone down before her, fighting hard undoubtedly, but still losing nonetheless, "I have something important to tell you, Slayer."



She groaned, her head falling against the windowsill as she gazed at him tiredly, "Can't it wait until tomorrow, Spike?"



"No." The finality in his tone seemed to surprise her and the tiredness was instantly gone from her eyes. With a muttered plea for a few minutes she disappeared from the window and Spike was left alone to wait. Now that it came down to it he felt a twinge of nervousness, a certain breathless trepidation that grew exponentially as he realized that he had never once really said good bye to her before. Their relationship had never been much for cordiality, whether they were allied or not, and this decision of his would serve as a testing of sort of the waters between them.



"What is it, Spike?" She stood in the doorway, tall and straight as a tree, her eyes alert and hard as she waited for whatever disaster he came to lay at her feet. He wanted to memorize her like this, wrapped in her robe, a satiny cotton number with nothing inherently sensual to it, her chin set at a determined angle, her hair golden and falling about her in waves and, of course, those steady warrior's eyes.



"I had a visit from Giles earlier."



"Oh." For a moment her face softened, her shoulders slumping in relief, "I sent him to see how you were holding up after." She pushed away from the doorway then and coming down the porch to get a better look at him. It was then that she saw the duffel, her eyes widening in a question and behind them a flicker of something which almost seemed to him like fear, "You're leaving."



Spike winced inwardly at the arctic chill she managed to infuse in that statement, the duffel sliding almost ashamedly to the ground as he walked straight up to her, forcing her to look him full in the face, "Yes, I'm leaving, pet, but I'm coming back."



She turned away from him abruptly, her shoulders squared, her voice still so cool and implacable that he was sure any one else would have missed the tell-tale quiver, "Why now, Spike? You know how much Dawn needs you. You're the only other one beside me who has any real chance of keeping her safe from Glory."



"It's because of Glory that I'm leaving, Slayer. Giles -"



"So what? You get roughed up a bit and that's it? The Big Bad can dish it out but he can't take it?"



"What? No," he was angry now, all fantasies of a tender farewell forgotten, "That's not how it is at all. Your Watcher -"



"Don't try to blame this on, Giles. I thought I could count on your help with this! You were supposed -"



"Bloody hell, Slayer!" He grabbed her arm, wrenching her around so that she was forced to look at him again, "Would you just shut your gob and let me explain for a moment?"



"Fine."



Her eyes glittered dangerously and Spike released her arm, taking a careful step back from her, "Giles is sending me away, pet. The Watcher's Council has something called Eowyn's Construct which Rupes thinks could be what you need to finally bring Glory down. He's sending me to get it."



"I don't understand. If the Watcher's Council has this A-I-U Construct then why don't they bring it themselves? Or why doesn't Giles go get it? It seems like they'd be more likely to turn over some super powerful god killer to another Watcher rather than a vamp."



"Eowyn's Construct, love, and the reason your Watcher can't go get it is that the Council doesn't have it any more. They locked it away in some hell hole known as the Anatolian Well so since I'm, as Giles kindly pointed out, 'impossible to get rid off' he's sending me after it." She was silent for a moment, turning his words over in her head, running them through her very own Buffy filter that Spike knew meant trouble for him more often than not. A bloke, he reasoned, could hope however so, rather than taking his leave quickly now that the message had been delivered he stalled, watching her carefully. When she finally spoke it was not what he had expected to hear.



"This mission is dangerous: you might not come back."



He nodded slowly, "It's a chance I'm willing to take, pet. You and Dawn are worth more than whatever kind of life could be left for some neutered vamp. Even if it happens to be me." The silence stretched between them again and when she didn't immediately respond in the affirmative Spike began to wonder more intently what exactly was going on in that brain of hers. In an effort to lighten the mood he let his patented smirk cross his face and put a bit of swagger in his steps as he came to stand close to her once more, "I wouldn't fret if I were you, pet. It takes a lot to put the Big Bad out for the count. My money's on me beating whatever nasty it is that’s waiting for me out there."



Still nothing. Swagger and smirk gone he was just about ready to leave when suddenly she spoke, "You have to come back."



"Of course, pet."



"Promise me you'll be back."



"Buffy, love," his hand was on her arm again as he half-marveled at the seriousness of her countenance, "there's not a thing in this world that could keep me away from you." She flushed then, a lovely guilty pink, and he knew then that his meaning had not been lost to her. Unlike before though, when she would have pushed him away roughly or let her fist get intimate with his nose she merely muttered his name and shook her head in the negative. He could see the words forming on her lips and, unwilling to let her spoil might be his last chance for a grand goodbye pushed on, "I'm not going to waste my time re-hashing feelings that you don't want to hear and I don't want to lie about. You already know how I feel about you, Buffy, and that's not going to change any time soon. It's enough for me now that you know."



And so while she was still half-stunned he pulled her flush against him and pressed a kiss against her mouth. She was as still as concrete beneath him, the fluttering of her heart in her throat filling his ears as he lingered, taking in her scent, enjoying her momentary submission to, if not acceptance of, his embrace. He heard himself moan her name against her mouth, a prayer and entreaty which was surprisingly answered when a sharp intake of her breath allowed him enough of a chance to slip his tongue in her mouth and taste her. For a brief moment of time, what must have been a nanosecond of reality, she softened beneath him, letting her heat engulf him as she pressed her softness against the rather embarrassing proof of his excitement. It was only one brief beautiful flash though before she reared away, fist connecting with his nose and sending him sprawling to the ground at her feet. She turned on her heel in a glorious huff and stomped up the porch to her door. It was then though, right before she shut the portal on him that she turned unexpectedly to look at him lying on the grass, "Be careful." The door closed and she was gone.



He couldn't help himself: he smiled all the way from Sunnydale to the airport in Los Angeles. True, it wasn't exactly the romantic encounter he might have hoped for but as far as the two of them went it was a sight more than remarkable. It was all the motivation he needed to fuel his determination and as he settled into the cargo hold of the plane to rest he vowed to himself that absolutely nothing would keep himself from getting back to his girl as quick as possible. For once, he thought hopefully, for once she'll see me.






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