Usually he liked to dream.  His dreams were the only place where colours blazed and his sight was twenty-twenty.  But for the past few nights they’d become something else entirely.

He flopped back on the pillows, panting harshly, trying to shake off the feeling that what he’d experienced was real.

“Oh, shite,” he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Spike?”

He rolled onto his side to face Buffy.  “Sorry I woke you.”  His fingers reached out and touched her face.

“It’s okay.  Bad dream, huh?”

“And then some.”

“Want to talk about it?”  Buffy shifted closer, gently kissing his lips.

“Hmm, that’s good.”  He tried to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back.

“Don’t try to change the subject.  That’s the fourth night in a row that you’ve been woken by bad dreams.  So spill.”

Spike sighed and turned so he lay on his back once again.  “It’s just the accident.  Haven’t dreamt about it for ages, but I suppose the trip back home has made it resurface.”

“Oh, baby…”  Buffy put her head on his chest and stroked his abdomen with her fingers in soothing circles over his flesh.

“They’ve all been a bit different at the start.   But I can see, Buffy.”  His voice choked with emotion.

Buffy waited patiently until he continued, her heart breaking for him.  How cruel to believe he could see, and then to lose it again, even if only a dream?

“They all end the same way though.  I wake up when I open my eyes.  It was weird when I was in hospital ‘cause I could hear people talking for a while before I actually came out of the coma.   Was a bit like being underwater, I guess.” His sad smile, brought tears to her eyes.  “But then in the dream I open my eyes and nothing changes.  That’s it.  Game over.”

“No,” said Buffy.  “Not game over.  You’ve just changed levels, that’s all.”

He snorted.  “That’s one way of viewing it.”   Dropping a kiss on his head, he muttered, “This level’s got you on it, so I got the bonus anyway.”  He shook his head, dispelling the final maudlin thoughts left over from the dream.  “Come here.”

Buffy shuffled up and raised her face to his, their lips meeting in the passion that so easily sparked between them.  Their lovemaking was slow and sensuous.  Buffy didn’t mention the dreams again, until they’d showered and were eating breakfast. 

“We don’t have to go to London, you know.  I’m sure Rupert would understand.”

Spike stilled his spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth.  “I want to go, Buffy.”  He put the spoon back in the bowl.  “Hell, I think I need to go.  They’re just dreams.”  He reached out with his hand, sure in the knowledge that she would find it and hold it.  “I’ve come to terms with what’s happened.  Well, consciously I have anyway.”  With a rueful smile he squeezed her fingers.  “I just need to face my demons, I guess.  Maybe then my subconscious will leave me be.”

“As long as you’re sure…?”

He nodded.  “I am.  We’re going to London, and we’ll have a bloody good time.”

Giving her hand one last squeeze he let go before reclaiming his spoon.  Buffy knew that as far as he was concerned the subject was closed.  She wondered if she should call Fred at Sandar Lodge and ask her advice on how the upcoming trip had triggered nightmares.

*~*~*~*

When Buffy left for the store, Spike booted his computer up and checked his emails with the help of his specially adapted software.  He’d emailed his old employers to let him know he would be back in London for a few days.  In his search for some sort of employment, he’d thought it wise to touch base with them in the hope of a good reference.  After his accident, he’d asked one of his friends to call them to hand in his resignation, too bleak about his future to bear to contact them himself. 

His face broke into a grin when he discovered his inbox contained a message from them.  Holding his breath, he opened it. 

Hi Spike – great to hear from you.  We’ve missed you.  I know me and the team would like to meet up with you for lunch one day if you’re free?  Let me know and I’ll get something organised.  Regards, David.

It did his ego no harm to hear that he’d been missed by his colleagues, but at the same time, the thought of facing them all scared him half to death.  He replied before he could chicken out, arranging to meet at the record shop and suggesting going on to what used to be their usual hangout once the in-house magazine had gone to print.

Wandering to the bedroom to begin packing his suitcase, Spike mused at how much his life had changed in what was still less than a year.  Emotionally, he’d had it all.  From the taken-for-granted ease of life before the accident, to the suicidal thoughts of the first few months after it.  His thoughts turned to Buffy – no surprise there.  He reckoned Rupert had been right when he’d said that Buffy might be a good match, and he honestly didn’t know what he would do without her. She’d turned him around.  Given him a reason to live again.

He pulled the suitcase out from under the bed and put it on the mattress, before methodically filling it with his clothes.  Next, he packed his cabin bag, making sure he put his iPod in there, as he’d loaded it with audio books for the flight. 

When Buffy arrived that evening, he was all packed, with the luggage sitting on the floor near the door to the apartment.

“Hey, babe,” Buffy said, as she let herself in.  “Wow, all ready to go.  You really are the most organised person I know.”

Spike snorted dismissively.  “Got to be now, but you really wouldn’t have liked my flat back home.  Typical lad’s place.”  He wrapped his arms around her when she kissed him.  “So…tomorrow’s the big day.  I’m glad you said you could drop by for something to eat, tonight.  I’ll miss having you stay over.”

“Well, I did say you could stay at mine for a change.  I’ve got to finish packing—”

Quirking a brow, he said, “Finish?”

“Okay, okay!  Start packing.” She prodded him on the shoulder.  “It’s harder for me to pack than you.”

“How do you make that out?  I mean, I’m the one who’s got the disability here, right?  Or is there something I should know…?”  Spike grinned.

“You know what I mean.  What’s in your suitcase?  Jeans, T-shirts, shirts, your Converse trainers, underwear – but I hope not too many – and that’s it.  Whereas I have to pack, jeans, skirts, dresses, blouses, jackets—”

Spike held up his hand.  “I get the point.  I don’t think putting me in the middle of that mix would work, do you?  I’d either end up tripping on something you got out or—”

“Shagging me senseless on the clothes covered bed,” Buffy interjected, trying and failing to pull off an English accent.

Laughing Spike agreed with her.  “You know me so well, Summers.”

They kissed again, and then walked hand in hand to the kitchen, where the evidence of Spike’s cooking was making itself known by the aromas wafting towards them.  Over their meal Spike told Buffy about the response from his former employer.  Pride swelled in her when he said he’d agreed to meet with them all.  She knew how difficult this trip was going to be for him.  Fred’s assurance that returning to London would likely be the final hurdle Spike had to overcome before truly coming to terms with his blindness meant Buffy could now really allow her excitement to have free rein.  As a result she could barely eat the food Spike had so lovingly prepared.

*~*~*~*

“Nearly there,” Xander said, slowing the cab to a crawl as he looked for a space to pull in to drop them off at LAX.  “Hell, this place is always busy.”

In the rear seat, Spike dug into his jacket pocket, pulled out a pair of dark tinted Rayban Wayfarers, and slipped them on.  Feeling Buffy’s eyes on him, he turned to her.

“What?”

Smiling, she said, “How do you always know when I’m looking at you?”  She didn’t wait for a reply.  “Why the sunglasses?  You’ve never bothered before.”

“Yeah…well…”  Spike’s cheeks pinked up a little.  “I’ve never had to sit on a bloody plane full of people before, have I?  Um…apart from when I came over…and to be honest I wasn’t up to taking much notice of anything then.  But I don’t want to seem like I’m staring at anyone, okay?  Might give someone the wrong idea.”  He squeezed her knee.  “It could lead to all sorts of bother.”

“Bother?  I’m bother?”  Buffy cupped her hand behind his head and drew him into a kiss. 

Neither took any notice when Xander opened the cab’s door.  “Ahem!  I can only stop here for ten minutes so can you guys give it a rest, already?”

Laughing, Spike and Buffy did as bidden and clambered out of the cab.  Xander got the luggage out of the trunk, taking care to give Spike his cabin bag and then helping him take the handle of his wheeled suitcase.

“Have an awesome time, okay.”  He clapped Spike on the shoulder.

“We will, mate.”  Spike was thankful that his voice was steady even though his stomach churned with anxiety.  “See you in ten days.”

Buffy gave Xander a quick hug, picked up her luggage and walked with Spike into the terminal.  By now, well used to quietly pointing out potential hazards, they reached the check-in without incident.  Free of their suitcases, they opted to go directly to the departure lounge and settled themselves down to wait for the time to board.

At Spike’s insistence, Buffy had gone to take a look at the stores, when a soft voice spoke Spike’s name.

“Mr. Pratt?”

Suppressing the shudder his surname always produced, he nodded.  “Yes, that’s me.”

“Good morning, sir.  My name is Amanda, one of the attendants on your flight and I’ve come to assist you to board the aircraft.”

“Oh…right.  Thanks, but my girlfriend’s off shopping somewhere, and I don’t want to get on without her.”

“That’s fine, sir.  Perhaps you could come to the gate when she returns, so we can get you settled before general boarding commences.  There will be an announcement about priority boarding shortly, so she will probably hear it.”

“Thanks.  Will do.”

Spike gave out a little sigh, guessing people would be looking at him.  He kept his head down, fiddling with the strap to his cabin bag. 

“Hey.  Are you okay?”  Buffy asked, sitting beside him.

Smiling, he nodded, “Yeah.  We’ve got to go to the gate.  They want us to board ahead of the rest.”  He got to his feet.  “Did you buy anything?”

“No.  Was fun window-shopping though.”

Something Spike could never do again, but he found it didn’t hurt as much as it used to.  “Shall we go get on the plane?”

“First class, here we come.”  Buffy waited for him to take her elbow, then guided him carefully to the boarding gate, ensuring he didn’t trip over anyone’s feet.

Amanda led them to their seats.  More like pods than seats really.  Buffy was near to the window, with Spike next to her.  They listened as Amanda ran through all the features of their seats, which could be adapted into beds once airborne.  As the other passengers filed through on their way to economy, Buffy couldn’t help but grin. 

“I’m going to London,” she said, briefly touching Spike’s hand.

“You are, indeed.”  He smiled in her direction, and she wished he’d take off the dark glasses, his eyes might be useless to him, but they still somehow managed to show her his feelings.

“I love you, Spike.”

“Love you too.”

Moments later the engines roared into life, and they left California behind as the aircraft headed east.

*~*~*~*

The flight had been uneventful and now they were descending over the city of London as the aircraft approached Heathrow airport. 

“If you keep on looking out the window, you might catch a glimpse of the London Eye, that big wheel thing I told you about,” said Spike, visualising the scene in his mind.

Buffy pressed her face against the window.  “I see it!”  She turned to him and grinned.  “Wow, it’s huge. You must be able to see for miles.  Have you been on it?”  She held her breath at her thoughtless words, but he simply smiled at her.

“No.  Never got around to it.”

A couple of bumps indicated they touched down, the engines screamed in reverse to slow them down to taxi speed, and then the plane bounced its way to the gate.  Spike and Buffy were amongst the first to disembark.  He held onto her arm with trembling fingers, unprepared for how much stepping foot on his homeland would affect him. 

Rupert had thought of everything.  A man holding a card with their names on was spotted by Buffy as they exited through the arrivals hall.  He took them to a waiting car, before speeding them away to their hotel.