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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to my lovely betas, Abby, Dawnofme, and Marilyn. The beautiful banner is by Tanit.

I updated on Saturday, so if haven't read chapter three go back and do so.

I don't own any of the BTVS characters. I'm just writing this for pleasure.
Buffy stepped into the foyer and kept her eyes on the stairway behind Spike, anything to keep from looking directly at him. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other.



"Thank you… I thought you might be hungry. I brought some scones from Thompson's."



Her hands were trembling, so he quickly took the box from her. He was having a hard time believing his eyes. "Um, thanks for the scones. Actually, I was just looking for something to eat."



"Have you had coffee or tea? If not, I could make some," Buffy said, hoping he had something else to do, and she could have some time alone in the kitchen to collect her thoughts.



"No, I haven't had any caffeine this morning. Whatever you want is fine with me." He turned and headed to the kitchen with Buffy right behind him. She didn't know what else to do. It was awkward to be here talking with him after all these years.



Spike went immediately to the cupboard and finding only tea, he said, "I guess we're having tea. Would you get the plates and cups? I'll put the kettle on."



It was strange to be in his Mum's kitchen with her not there. It somehow felt wrong, even though he'd lived there most of his life. He realized with a pang of sadness, she would never be there again.



The scene in the kitchen was one of regular domesticity. Spike was busy readying the tea for the pot and getting the sugar bowl. Buffy was looking in the fridge for cream, jams, lemon curd, and crème fraiche. Clanging around in the silverware drawer for spoons and knives, Spike found everything they needed. From an outsider's view, everything looked perfectly normal, but he was far from calm. The reality that his Mum was gone was really starting to sink in, and now Buffy was standing in her kitchen, seemingly there to help.



Spike couldn't take it any longer. He reached across the table and touched her hand, but she flinched as if burned. He removed his hand quickly.



"Buffy, what is this? You haven't spoken to me in eleven years. Now you're here in Mum's kitchen having tea and bringing me scones as if…"



He couldn't believe the woman he'd hurt so badly was being kind to him. After a beat, he said, "I don't understand the sudden change. Care to fill a bloke in?"



The shrill whistling of the kettle saved her from answering right away. Grateful for the distraction she busied herself preparing the tea.



Once she sat down, an uncomfortable silence came over them. She looked at him now. He was as handsome as ever. She wondered if he'd stopped bleaching his hair: only the tips were white blond. It was tousled and curly. The most alarming thing were his beautiful blue eyes. They were bloodshot from his tears; the capillaries showed a roadmap of his misery. She felt a strong urge to reach out to him, but stifled it. She decided to answer his question, somewhat honestly.



"I…I know we haven't been close, but I understand what it's like to lose a parent, and no one should have to go through that alone. I remember how kind you and Anne were to me when my dad was sick. How we used to play together and Anne would throw tea parties and read to us. I had no idea my dad would die. I never thought my daddy would die, but then he did, and you and Anne were there for me then, too. I remember her explaining to me that it wasn't something God did to punish me. My dad was just very sick and in a lot pain, then he was in a better place and not sick anymore. I still missed him, but it made me feel better."



As she talked, she poured him a cup of tea and went about making it the way she remembered he liked it, lots of cream and four cubes of sugar. Buffy pushed the teacup toward him and placed a scone on a plate for him as well.



"She told me he would always be with me in my heart and in my memories, and that's true. Anne was a very special woman, and in some ways, I feel as though she was my second mother. You were incredibly fortunate to have her as your own."



Buffy decided she had to do something to convince him of this, so she reached across the table and touched his arm. "I just want to be here for you if need to talk, cry, or anything at all. I'm not expecting anything in return."



Buffy stared at the half-eaten scone on her plate as she spoke. She couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. Afterward she gazed up at his face. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he wept openly, putting a small crack in the barrier she'd put around her heart so long ago.



He gazed at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Buffy, love, I don't deserve this kindness from you. Not after what I did. I want to apologize."



Buffy gripped his arm, wincing inwardly at the term of endearment. "Shh, not now. We're focusing on you and Anne. Save that for later. Now drink your tea before it gets cold and eat your scone. I'm sure you're hungry." Buffy's voice was kind but authoritative.



The corners of Spike's mouth lifted just a fraction. "You always were a bossy little thing."



"I like to think of myself as mildly assertive, thank you very much," Buffy, said her voice laced with humor.



"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Spike actually chuckled a little at that.



"Seriously though, what can I do to help?" Buffy asked between sips of tea. "Have you had time to think about arrangements?"



"Mum said she had all her affairs in order and told me where to find them. Just haven't actually had the guts to get them. I came in last night, drank myself into a sodding stupor, and woke up not long before you showed up. I don't know if I have the strength to look at those papers," he said, putting his head in hand.



"Spike, I want you to look at me. I'm not going anywhere." Buffy's heart actually hurt for him. "If you need me to look at them for you I will, or we can look at them together. You tell me. It's your call."



She knew she had to do this, however painful it might be, not only for Anne, but for herself as well. This entire situation was so surreal to her. Buffy couldn't believe how right it felt for her to comfort him. She was still angry as hell with him, but those feeling would have to be put on hold for now.



"They're in the sideboard in the dining room, upper left-hand drawer," he said.



Buffy guessed that was her cue.



She got up to retrieve the papers. What she found was a large manila envelope. She brought it back to the table and set it down. The envelope somehow made things final and real. She looked over at Spike and saw his tear-filled eyes and shaking hands.



"Do you want to open it or should I?" she asked softly.



"I think I can do this. Just promise not to leave," he said, his voice slightly trembling.



"I promise. I'll stay right here." Buffy met his gaze, hoping to reassure him.



Spike stared at the envelope a moment before picking it up with trembling hands and emptying the contents onto the table. There were two separate documents and two envelopes, one addressed to William, the other to Buffy.



"The first thing here is about arrangements. It says her body is to be cremated. She wanted a small service at her church. Here's the best bloody part. She wants us to have a wake, or 'party' as she says, here at the house with all her friends in attendance. No moping about. We're to be happy and celebrate her life. The second document is her will. She's left everything to me with the exception of a few small things she's left for you, and of course, we have these two ominous envelopes. Should we open them now or wait until we're alone?"



Spike didn't seem too thrilled about opening the envelope. He looked haggard and on the verge of another breakdown. Buffy stood and began clearing the table.



"You don't have to do everything at once. We can do this together. Let's wait on the envelopes. Now that we know what she wants, we can start making arrangements. You go upstairs and wash up. When you come back, we can get started. I'll go with you and help you with anything I can. All right?"



Spike rose to his feet, but turned to her instead of moving to leave and said, "Buffy, thank you, I don't know what I would've done this morning without you. Probably gotten bloody drunk again to dull the pain. You have no idea how much this means to me, how kind you're being when I don't deserve it."



He leaned forward to push a stray lock of hair from her face, and she froze for a moment. She was terrified he was going to kiss her, and that would lead to all things bad.



Buffy recovered quickly without missing a beat. "We've already been over this once. We'll talk about that when it's time, and it's not now. Go wash your face, and I'll be here waiting for you. I'm going to call mom and let her know we have a plan. Anne's other friends will want to know too."



With his head tilted slightly, Spike gazed at her. He swallowed hard, trying to hold back a sob. "You—you're amazing, Buffy Summers," he said, before walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs.



Buffy eyed the envelopes on the table. She couldn't possibly imagine what was inside, but knowing Anne, she figured she was probably in for one hell of a surprise.








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