"You all saw that, right?" Buffy asked their spectators before turning her attention back to Spike. "I touched you, as in made actual contact. I felt you."

"Me too, pet. It was like I was solid again. Dunno what happened," Spike replied, studying his hand intently as if it offered a solution.

"Try it again," Dawn said, excitedly.

"We did. It won't work, see?" Buffy said, passing a hand through Spike until he stepped back, frowning.

"Oi."

"Sorry," she said, even though she didn't sound it.

"No, no, no. Try it again, like the way you were, all focused on each other and stuff. Maybe it only works if you concentrate really hard." Dawn was practically jumping on the spot in her eagerness.

"Sounds plausible to me," Fred encouraged the teen, smiling at the blonds.

They thought about it, turned to each other and shrugged.

"Worth a try, yeah?"

Buffy nodded and held her hand up again. Spike did the same. They focused all their thoughts into touching. Their hands passed through each other. They took a couple of deep breaths, looked each other in the eye, and tried again—nothing. Buffy released a frustrated sigh, and Spike clenched his jaw and started pacing again.

"So now what?" Buffy turned back to the group looking for answers.

A deflated Dawn chewed on her lip. Fred seemed lost inside her own head, and Wes was squinting at the pacing vamp and the Slayer as his lips moved soundlessly, running through any possible theories he might have.

"Um—" Andrew's voice started before Angel interrupted.

"Maybe the mystics can work it out? Or we can get a psychic in?"

"You mean one of those people who communicate with the dead and sponge off people with relatives not of the living anymore?" Spike asked sceptically.

"They don't all sponge off people like that. Some are genuine. We happen to know one, right?" Angel asked Gunn.

"Um—" Andrew tried again before Gunn interrupted.

"Yeah, I can get her here in twenty minutes," Gunn said, heading for the door.

"Are you sure that would help? Seems to me if a psychic was the answer we would have tried it already. Isn't their bit just involved with communicating with dead people? And if a necromancer couldn't help without shoving me in your useless un-dead carcass, I don't see how this bird will," Spike argued. "Long story," he said, holding up a hand to cut off the question a puzzled Dawn had been about to voice.

"Why are you arguing? I thought you wanted us to help you? Now we're doing something and you don't think it'll work?" Angel asked, irritated.

"Uh, guys—" Andrew spoke again.

"Actually I think Spike has a point," Buffy said.

Spike grinned and Angel gawked at her. Gunn paused by the door, unsure of whether to go or not.

"Now you're arguing too?" Angel asked, baffled.

"Ahem, well—" Andrew raised a hand in the air.

"Well it's just that psychics are all about the communication and possession stuff, but we don't need help communicating with Spike. He's doing just fine on his own. Also, this isn't possession, and when have they ever mentioned a ghost touching them? Not in an eerie presence kinda way, but actually felt them like they would a normal person?" she pointed out.

"Okay, point, but what do you suggest? I mean this isn't a normal situation. We don't have a lot of options," Angel argued.

"Well, maybe—" Buffy started.

"MAYBE THEY JUST AREN'T CONNECTING THE WAY THEY WERE!" Andrew blurted out loudly, causing everyone to stare at him. He blinked and blushed under their scrutiny, suddenly feeling shy and nervous. "Um, well, I mean, when you guys touched you weren't focusing on touching, right? I mean you didn't even know you could, and it was just a happy accident. Maybe, uh, you guys touched because of how you were connected. Maybe it's because of what you were thinking at the time and you lost the connection when you stopped, um, connecting," he finished, going even redder.

"Could you have fit the word connection in there one more time," Gunn asked, amused, and Andrew's blush deepened.

Buffy and Spike shared a sidelong glance and turned away shyly. Dawn nodded slowly, considering Andrew's theory before her excitement returned.

"Okay, so what were you guys thinking?" she asked eagerly.

Spike and her sister refused to look each other or anyone else in the eye, finding the floor, furniture, walls, and even their shoes far more interesting. Buffy's cheeks also turned an interesting shade of pink.

"Um, well..." Buffy trailed off.

Spike rubbed the back of his neck, and everyone watched the pair with interest and a little confusion. Dawn raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms, and tapped a foot on the floor.

"Well? Come on, what's the big deal? This could be the answer. Don't tell me it was something dirty because that would be weird, not to mention gross. Seriously you guys, like, eww? Room full of people, remember?"

"It wasn't like that," Spike was quick to clarify, before tilting his head in Buffy's direction, a smirk crossing his features. "Least not on my part anyway. Dunno about the Slayer here..."

Buffy's eyes widened, and she raised a hand as if to whack him on the arm before she remembered and lowered it again, giving him an eye-roll and a scowl instead, but was unable to hide the twitch of her lips as she suppressed a smile. Spike grinned even wider at her before turning back to Dawn. Angel scowled and clenched his jaw.

"It's just that it's private is all. Between me an' the Slayer. All those—emotions and stuff." He waved a hand dismissively, feeling awkward again.

"Oh." Dawn became serious.

She knew her sister tended to hide her emotions, and the few times she didn't were when you knew things were bad. It was hard for Buffy to show what she was really feeling at any time, more-so since she had an army to command. Then again, after Sunnydale, the Slayer had been more confiding in Dawn, telling her about Spike. There wasn't anyone else she could talk to about him, and even then she'd held something back. What she had shared was enough for Dawn to forgive him, at least enough to give the vampire who'd fought so hard for his soul a second chance. She began to feel bad for the distance between them when he came back from Africa. Spike wasn't much for sharing either with his newly acquired soul. He didn't want to hurt anymore so he instead of wearing his heart on his sleeve he hid everything. Getting these two to share their feelings and thoughts with everyone in the office, even with each other in private, wouldn't be easy.

Lorne broke the silence.

"You know, maybe this is my area of expertise after all," he mused.

The others waited for him to elaborate. He seemed to be thinking about something as he studied Spike and Buffy. Fred nudged him, and he realized everyone was looking at him expectantly.

"Well I never gave bringing Spike's body back a try since I'm more of a party demon, and his condition is kind of a mood killer, as is the attitude. No offense."

Spike scowled a little, then shrugged and nodded.

"But if this is about feelings then I'm your guy. You know I never tried reading a ghost before? This should be interesting. And a Slayer too. Not something you'd find in my job description, but hey. You two don't need to worry about sharing your deepest darkest secrets. I can do a reading and see if there's some emotional bond that allowed you to make contact. What do you say?" He left out the part where he would probably spot their deep dark secrets from the reading, but being a confidential Empath Demon, he had no intention of spilling them, unless it was of the utmost importance.

Buffy looked at Spike. He tilted his head, sighed, shrugged then nodded. She faced Lorne again.

"Well it's the best we've got right now I guess. What does this reading entail exactly?"

"Oh, nothing much, just a little song. You don't have to do a whole number, although the longer you sing, the better I can read you." Lorne grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"Sing? We have to sing?" Buffy's eyes popped, and she couldn't keep the dismay from showing on her face.

Everyone else returned amused or sympathetic faces but didn't offer an alternative. Spike sighed.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Are you sure you aren't related to Sweet?" Buffy asked, suspicious.

"Who?" Lorne frowned. "Oh wait, Sweet, big red guy, snappy dresser, likes to dance, makes people reveal their secrets through song until they spontaneously combust?"

Buffy nodded, her suspicion growing.

"No relation honey-pie, but I do know him. He throws some great parties you know, aside from the entertainment going up in flames at the end of the night, but it's an easy clean up."

"Isn't this a little off topic? C'mon Buffy, serenade the man or—well, demon," Dawn teased.

Buffy shot her sister a death glare. She surveyed her would be audience and looked at Lorne pleadingly.

"Do we really have to do this in front of everyone?"

"Sometimes it's better with a crowd," Lorne said, but Buffy's sceptical look made him re-think that. "Well, we could do it through here," he gestured to the meeting room next to Angel's office, "shut the door, a bit more private, unless you wanted to go to a karaoke club?" he asked cheerfully.

"Through here is fine," Buffy said, walking swiftly by the onlookers to stand in the meeting room.

"No one ever picks the karaoke club anymore," Lorne said regretfully.

He swept a hand out before him theatrically and Spike passed by him into the room with an eye-roll. Lorne stepped in and shut the door quickly behind him before Dawn or any of the others could follow. The teen huffed and turned back to the rest of the crowd.

"So how soundproof are these doors?"

Buffy and Spike stood at one end of the large meeting table while Lorne sat at the other in front of the large window that looked out over L.A.

"I'm ready whenever you are, kids."

Buffy closed her eyes and tried to remove the feelings of embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her while she thought of a song. Her mind had gone blank and she couldn't remember the lyrics to any songs she might have sung, and the ones she did remember seemed stupid or inappropriate. She knew it wouldn't really matter what she chose, but this seemed like a significant moment, and maybe she would be able to express her feelings through song better than she could in her own words.

Spike was obviously waiting for her to start, the chicken. He probably had a thousand punk songs lined up in his head, and he wasn't exactly shy. He could irritate the hell out of her sometimes, even just by keeping his mouth shut and not moving. It was one of the many things she'd missed about him. Suddenly the perfect song popped into her head. It wasn't something she would have thought to sing to an audience, but it conveyed what she felt right now. She wasn't sure she could say it to him if they were just talking. He hadn't believed her that day, but maybe a gesture like this would help. She looked up, straight at Lorne.

"Made your mind up sweetie?"

She nodded. She turned until she was half facing Spike, but keeping her eye contact between both of them, trying to ignore her flaming cheeks as she started to sing.

I should have done something

Again I did nothing

Watched us separate

What should I do now

Run and chase you down?

I can't hesitate

Buffy fully focused on Spike now, who had been staring at her since she'd started singing and gave him a shy smile.

'Cause all I wanted to say was something real

All I want you to know is how I feel

All I wanted to give was my heart

But I'm stuck here at the start

Spike swallowed hard and she saw the emotion in his eyes. It was like the way he used to look at her, when he had been an open book, laying everything out for her to see. He'd closed himself off after the soul, but in those last days they'd been close. He'd let her back in, and she'd let him in without knowing it. She sang straight to him now.

It's on the tip of my tongue but I'm still afraid

Sometimes the only thing words do is get in the way

Sometimes the easiest things are the hardest to say

But I don't want to lose you, drive you away

Don't want to confuse you, I need you to stay

Only wish you knew what I wanted to say

Only wish you knew what I wanted to say

Buffy was too caught up in the song and Spike to notice the partially opened door or Dawn and the others peeking through. Not trusting herself to make it through the rest, she finished her song, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. Finally she'd been able to show him he did mean something to her. After the shock of those first few days after Sunnydale, she knew what she felt was real. She hadn't lied to him out of pity. How would losing him have hurt so much if she had? It had torn her in two finding out he was alive and hadn't told her. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that, even in their current situation. Spike had never stayed away from her before, he'd always been there. She wondered why he didn't even want help from her. Singing for Lorne wasn't how she'd imagined opening up to Spike, but she might not have been able to do it otherwise.

Outside, there was some shuffling as everyone tried to catch a glimpse into the room. Wes and Gunn were less enthusiastic to spy on the Slayer and Spike than Dawn, Fred, and Andrew, who were huddled the door, but curious enough to cast a glance or two in when they could. Angel was sulking. Buffy had never sung to him like that. Buffy had never sung to him period. He reminded himself she was only doing it because Spike was disappearing. They had been close and she was saying goodbye in case they couldn't save him. It wasn't like she loved him. She was still cookie dough.

Gunn watched his boss, feeling sorry for him. He knew what it was like to be in competition over a girl. Andrew was sniffling, and Dawn elbowed him in the ribs, telling him to keep quiet.

Inside the meeting room, Lorne nodded his head and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting. Okay Spikester, you're up. That's gonna be a tough act to follow." He crossed his arms and waited for the vampire's song, hoping he didn't have a singing voice in common with his grandsire's.

Spike barely acknowledged the Empath Demon, quickly meeting the green eyes looking up at him. He wasn't used to this sort of scenario, and it wasn't really his style, but she'd opened up to him, which meant more to him than she could know, and he owed it to her to say what needed to be said. When he sang, it was for her.

Will you listen to my story?
It'll just be a minute
How can I explain?

What ever happened here
Never meant to hurt you
How could I cause you so much pain?

When I say I'm sorry
Will you believe me?
Listen to my story
Say you won't leave me
When I say I'm sorry
Can you forgive me?
When I say I'll always be there
Will you believe
Will you believe in me?

He could leave it there. Stop singing, but, looking at her…

All the words that I come up with
They're like gasoline on flames
There's no excuse
No explanation
Believe me
If I could undo what I did wrong
I'd give away all that I own

When I say I'm sorry
Will you believe me?
Listen to my story
Say you won't leave me
When I say I'm sorry
Can you forgive me?
When I say I'll always be there
Will you believe?

Sod it. He'd never been one to do things by halves anyway.

If I told you
I've been cleaning my soul
And if I promised you
I'll regain control
Will you open your door
And let me in?
Take me for who I am
And not for who I've been?

They got closer to each other. Buffy could feel tears pricking her eyes. They'd never been good at sorry.

Who I've been...

They'd built up trust gradually. She'd never let him apologize for…and he'd never known how. After what he'd said in the Hellmouth, after hiding his return from her, she needed to know.

When I say I'm sorry
Will you believe me?
Listen to my story
Say you won't leave me
When I say I'm sorry
Can you forgive me?
When I say I'll always be there
Will you believe?

When I say I'm sorry
(When I say I'm sorry)
When I say I'm sorry
(When I say I'm sorry)
When I say I'm sorry
Can you forgive me?
When I say I'll always be there
Will you believe?

He reached out a hand and brushed her hair away from her face. She placed a hand on his chest and felt him. She leaned against him and he supported her, solid and real. He cupped her cheek and felt the wetness from the lone tear that escaped her shimmering green eyes. His own were watery from the sensation of touching her again.

"Spike," she whispered.

"Shh, luv, it's okay," he said, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

Dawn was as much of a blubbering mess as Andrew at this point. Who knew that Spike had that in him?

"I wish I could find a guy who'd sing to me like that." Dawn sighed wistfully.

"Yeah," Fred agreed, making Wesley shift uncomfortably.

"Yeah, me too," Andrew agreed.

They all stared at him. His eyes opened wide with realization and he shifted under their stares.

"Um, I mean, you know, a woman. I want a woman to sing to me like—or I could sing to her like—uh..." he stuttered.

"If I had the slightest idea who you were I'd probably be worried about you. Thankfully I don't and I'm not. Lorne?" Wes asked, walking into the meeting room, looking for his friend's analysis.

The green demon was wiping at his red eyes with a hankie and Fred walked over to pat him on the arm.

"That was just—beautiful. Really, I've never seen anything like it. Look at me. I'm a mess," he gushed.

Angel grumbled under his breath. Buffy and Spike still hadn't pulled away from each other and it was making him antsy.

"So do we know what's going on? Why they're—" Angel glanced at the duo again and closed his eyes. Shaking his head he turned to Lorne again. "Why they're touching?"

"Well, that's the thing, you were right kiddo." Lorne nodded at Andrew who grinned like a cheshire cat. "They are connected. Spike's not a ghost. What we're seeing is his essence, his soul. It was trapped in that amulet when his body burned up. He must have become bound to it. But that's not all his soul's bound to. Spike popped out of that amulet because someone never let him go. Spike, you haven't disappeared since Buffy got here, have you?" Lorne asked the Brit.

He didn't get a response. Spike and Buffy hadn't moved and didn't appear to be listening. Angel coughed—nothing. He tried again, louder—still nothing.

"Spike!"

That shook them out of their reverie. Unfortunately, it broke the connection again, and Buffy stumbled into Spike as he went back to ghost mode. They scowled at Angel who didn't look one bit sorry.

"What?" asked Spike through gritted teeth, a low growl rising in his throat.

"Answer the question," Angel said, trying to hold back a smile and simultaneously avoid the Slayer's death glare.

"What question?" Spike frowned.

"Have you had any unwanted vanishing acts since the Slayer got here?" Gunn clarified.

"Oh, uh, not that I can remember, no, been here the whole time." Spike shrugged, putting his hands back in his pockets and averting his eyes from Andrew's star-struck look.

"Didn't think so," Lorne agreed. "The bond's too strong now."

Angel did not like where this was going. Not one bit.

"Please don't say what I think you're going to say," he begged.

"Say what?" Buffy asked, suddenly interested in what Lorne had seen.

"Sorry Angel-cakes, but it's unavoidable. Now, tomorrow, a couple years down the line, they might as well hear it now." Lorne shrugged and looked at the Slayer and Spike again. "You two are bound together, your souls are connected."

Spike went stock still. They were...?

"Wait. So you're saying—?" Buffy asked, unable to finish the question, feeling her heartbeat speed up.

"You two are soul-mates," Lorne confirmed.