"So how'd it go?" Spike inquired as Buffy entered the mansion. She had been to see her mother for the first time, knowing that after having the encounter with her friends, she wasn’t going to be able to put it off any longer.

"It was fine," Buffy replied. "In a weird, awkward kind of way. But it was also good. I know I was dreading it, but I'm glad I went."

"Good," Spike smiled. "That's good."

Buffy returned his smile “Yeah, you know there was crying and hugging and all that good stuff." She bit into her bottom lip, not sure of how to tell him the next part. She decided to just do it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. "She wants me to come home." Buffy stole a glance at him to gauge his reaction. Spike’s expression was impassive.

"Well, that's no real surprise," he commented after a beat. "So when are you going then?"

"Um, I kind of told my mom I would come pick up my things and be back tonight," she said in a rush.

Spike nodded. "I see. That soon."

"It's just that we have so much to work out between us," Buffy went on. "Our relationship is kind of fractured right now and I really hate that. I want to get things back to the way they were with her, or even better since now I don't have to keep secrets from her. I just want to try to repair things as soon as possible. But I'm still going to help you. If you need anything, you know I'll be here."

"I appreciate that, pet," Spike said with a smile, "but you don't have to worry about me. You don't have to justify your reasons for wantin’ to go home either. I get it. I it’s a good thing.”

"You do?" Buffy asked, slightly surprised.

"Yeah. It's about time you got back to your life," Spike affirmed. "I reckon the change’ll be good for me an’ all too.” he added after a slight pause.

"You do?" Buffy said again, feeling deflated. Spike wanted her to leave? All this time she had thought he wanted her around. That he needed her. But now he was saying that it was good that she was leaving? She had anticipated him being upset. Not that Buffy wanted him to be upset. Nevertheless, it would have made her feel like she hadn’t been wasting her time these past couple of months.

Spike smiled, seeming to sense what Buffy was thinking. "Don't get me wrong, love, I appreciate everything you've done for me," he told her. "I probably wouldn't be standing here right now if it weren't for you. I'd be a pile of ashes by now. But I'm in a better head-space now, because of you. So, if I'm really going to be of any use in this world, I need to start getting by on me own. I can't rely on you forever."

"Yeah, I guess," Buffy conceded softly. A beat passed. Buffy cleared her throat. "Well, like I said, I told my mom I would be right back, so..."

Spike nodded. "Right, of course."

Buffy started toward the room in which she had been staying. It was the room Spike and Drusilla had previously shared. Spike said he couldn't stay in that room – it was filled with too many bad memories. Dru bringing him fresh bodies to feed on while he was confined to that wheelchair being just one example. He'd taken lives in that room. So he slept in a room that had been occupied by one of Angel's minions instead.

Spike trailed after the girl. "So," he ventured. "Did you tell your mum everything about what you've been up to?"

Buffy glanced at the vampire hovering tensely in the doorway. He was making a visible effort to keep his eyes anywhere but on the bed. Buffy mistakenly assumed that it was because he had shared it with Drusilla, the woman he'd been in love with for over a century. But, in fact it, was because it was where he had taken his meals. Buffy felt an odd sensation at the thought that he still had feelings for his Sire. Was she jealous? She shook off that idea and concentrated on Spike's question.

"Did I tell her about you, you mean?" she clarified.

Spike nodded.

"Yeah," Buffy informed. "I told her."

"Bet that went over real well," he remarked wryly, "finding out her teenage daughter was living with some strange man."

"Actually, she didn't seem to have a real problem with that part," Buffy replied. "In fact,” her brow furrowed, “I think she kind of likes you."

Spike chuckled at the irony. "That's me. The bloke mums approve of," he joked.

Buffy chuckled herself. "Well, I doubt she'd give her blessing on our marriage or anything," she expanded. "But she doesn't mind my hanging around you."

"Well, that's good. I'm glad to hear it." Spike watched Buffy put the last of her things in her duffel bag and felt the hole her absence would leave. He didn't really want her to go. But he didn't really need her to stay, so asking her to do so would be selfish on his part. In his mind, he wagered he'd already taken up far too much of the girl's time. She shouldn't be spending all her time cooped up in this dusty old mansion babysitting him. So, Spike had pulled from his English roots and put on a stiff upper lip.

"Well, I guess that's it," Buffy declared, taking one more glance around the room to make sure she hadn't missed anything. She was a bit dejected to find that she hadn't. She found she was in no real hurry to leave. In fact, Buffy wanted to stall her departure for as long as possible.

When she and her mom had agreed that it was a good idea for her to come home, Buffy had just been so excited about the prospect of fixing things with Joyce that she hadn't really thought about the connotations of leaving Spike. It just hit her now as she was standing there in that room, with all her belongings in her duffel bag, that, if she had trouble sleeping, she couldn't just go down the hall and talk to Spike until she felt better. Suddenly, she wasn't feeling so well.

"Uh, so," Buffy began, "are you all set with blood and everything? Is there anything you need before I..."

"Go," Spike supplied with a small smile. He shook his head. "I think I'm good, thanks."

"Right. Good." Buffy hefted her duffle and shouldered it. "Then I should get out of here." She walked out of the room.

Spike escorted her out into the foyer. Buffy paused when they got there. She turned to Spike, wanting to say something more but not sure what. She felt the sudden urge to hug him goodbye but checked it.

No, that wouldn't be in any way awkward at all, she thought dryly.

Spike stood before the girl, looking into her beautiful hazel eyes. Those eyes, he thought, were the kind of beauty that should be written about in poetry. Spike startled. It was the first time he had thought about writing in a long time. In that moment, he had to fight with everything in him not to get down on his hands and knees and beg her not to go.

Feeling like a complete idiot, just standing here not saying anything, Buffy decided she should speak up. "Well, uh, see ya, I guess," she stated brilliantly. "I'll stop by and check in tomorrow sometime."

"All right," Spike said, before considering that it may not be good to see her so soon. Maybe it would be better to give him time to get used to being without her. "Actually, maybe you should hold off a few days. You know, give yourself time to readjust, hang out with your mates. I'll be fine."
Buffy was disappointed by his suggestion but she tried hard to conceal it. "Uh yeah, okay. Good idea."

"Oh." Spike had wanted her to argue. "Yeah, good. So I'll see ya, then."

"Right. See ya," Buffy returned. She was getting the impression that he couldn't wait for her to leave. She was right, but not for the reasons she thought. Spike wanted her to go because the longer she was around, the harder it was for him to let her leave.

Spike wanted her to stay with him. He had feelings for the girl that he had never experienced before. But that didn't mean she reciprocated them. She probably didn't, he supposed. So he wanted her to leave before he did something, like grab her and kiss her, and ended up looking like a fool. Worse than looking like a fool, if he did act on his feelings, Buffy might do more than leave his house. He could end up driving her out of his life forever. If that happened, Spike knew he wouldn't be able to stand it. Buffy had been the only thing that had kept him going since he got his soul. If she wasn't a part of his life, nothing would stop him from walking into the sun.

Buffy turned on her heels and exited the mansion.

Spike knew it was for the best, but that didn't make it any easier.


~*~*~*~


"See ya!" Buffy exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "That's all he said. ‘See ya.’ Can you believe that?" she had been ranting to Willow for an hour about her last conversation with Spike. Willow was over at Buffy's for a welcome back sleepover. The girls were up in Buffy's room, veg’ing out on junk food, and having much missed girl talk.

It was just like old times, Willow reflected. Her sitting on Buffy's bed, listening to her rant and rave about the undead man in her life. The only change was who the undead guy was.

"So what’s the problem exactly?" Willow asked. "Do you think he was being ungrateful or something?"

Buffy's miffed face scrunched up into a contemplative one. "Well, no. Not ungrateful, exactly. I mean, he said thank you for my helping him, and I'm pretty sure he was sincere. It's just..." she sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. Would it have killed him to be more upset?"

"Well probably not. Since he's already dead and all."

Buffy made a face at Willow's joke. "You know what I mean?"

"Actually, Buffy," Willow hedged, "I'm not sure that I do. I mean, why would you get so angry over Spike's reaction, or lack thereof, about your moving home? I mean unless..." Willow's eye's widened as she finished the thought in her head. "Oh my god! You have feelings for him, don't you?"

"What? No, that's ridiculous!" Buffy refuted, her voice screeching with disbelief. "You're ridiculous." After a beat, Buffy's mien of righteous indignation faltered. She looked down sheepishly and admitted, "Well, maybe, I like him a little.” Willow smirked. Buffy made a whimpering noise and flopped face down onto a pillow.

Willow’s smile drooped, her brow furrowing. “Okay,” she drawled, “it might just be my imagination, but I’m sensing that you liking Spike is a bad?”

Buffy whipped back up into a sitting position. “Of course it’s a bad!” She screeched. “How can I like him? How can I like anyone? How can I even think about liking anyone so soon after...” her voice caught.

“Oh, Buffy,” Willow murmured, getting it. She reached over and took her friends hand. “I’m so sorry. I can’t say that I know what you’re going through, because that would be impossible, but...” she sighed and paused. “You can’t punish yourself for what happened forever, Buffy. You’re alive, you have to move on.”

“You’re right,” Buffy agreed, “I know that I am going to have to get on with my life, eventually.” She shook her head. “I’m just not ready for anything like that, you know. But, even when I am ready to get on with my life, I don’t think that it would be a very good idea for me to get it on with Spike.”

Willow’s eyebrows rose.

Buffy’s grimaced. “Uh, that came out wrong.”

Willow stifled a smirk.

“Anyway, my point is,” Buffy plowed on, “the whole Spike thing is a little too history repeat-y for me. I’ve already been down that road. I know where it leads, I don’t want to go there again. There is a bad place to be. I don’t even want to end up anywhere near the neighborhood of there. I know better this time. Spike’s warning label is clearly visible. I can’t plead ignorance like with Angel.”

Willow brow furrowed. “Huh? What’re talking about?”

"Well, you know?" Buffy prodded. "The curse. The whole ‘if you're happy and you know it, you lose your soul’ thing. I would never risk that again."

Willow smacked her hand against her forehead. "Oh my god, Buffy I can't believe I forgot."

"Yeah, I can't either. Since the world almost ended because of it and all."

"No, no, that's not what I mean," Willow frantically went on, "it completely slipped my mind, I guess with everything that happened and all. You disappearing and then reappearing, I just didn't think about it-"

"Willow," Buffy interrupted. She knew how Willow could get when she had some important information to tell and Buffy figured she would be wise to cut Willow off before she got too hysterical. "Just calm down and tell me what you're talking about. What did you forget?"

Willow took a breath before going on. "The curse," she said. "I changed it."

Buffy’s brow crinkled. "What do you mean by you changed it?"

"Well, when we found it and realized that it might be possible to give Angel his soul back, I was really excited," Willow began. "I was so happy at the idea that I might be able to bring him back so the two of you could be together again."

Buffy smiled ruefully at her friend’s romanticism.

"But then I thought about it and I realized that it wouldn't be like that," she continued. "It wouldn't be the same 'cause now there was this thing between you; the curse. The two of you would never be able to really be together. So I got this idea, that maybe I could modify the curse. So, I did some research to see if there was a way to leave out the happiness clause. Turns out, there was."

There were a few beats of silence while this information sunk in. "You changed the curse," Buffy said slowly, "so you're saying that, hypothetically if Spike were to..."

"Get happy?" Willow supplied.

"Right, get happy," Buffy repeated. "If that happened, he wouldn't lose his soul?"

"Nope." Willow beamed. "It'd be safe and sound. Hypothetically."

"My god," Buffy said, amazed. "Willow, how did you do it?"

Willow shrugged, "It wasn't all that complicated really," she informed. "Just some rewording and stuff, some messing about with the incantation. I'm surprised Ms. Calendar didn't think to do it herself." She paused, her mood falling as she thought of her favorite teacher. "Maybe she would have if–" Willow slapped her hand over her mouth, thinking that she should just have her foot surgically implanted in her mouth to save time in future.

"If Angel hadn't killed her," Buffy finished the thought quietly.

Willow's eyes were wide, horrified with herself for making such a faux pas. Way to bring down the girl's night, she thought, wondering just how much a foot-in-mouth surgery might cost. "Oh, god Buffy I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said–"

"It's okay," Buffy cut her off. "You didn't do anything wrong, Will. Angel did kill Ms. Calendar. He killed her before she had a chance to do a lot of things, the least of which would have been performing the curse, modified or otherwise."

A saddened silence descended as the two girls reflected on the life that Jenny Calendar might have lived if it hadn't been brutally cut short. They wondered if she and Giles would have gotten married, have had children, but it was pointless to think of these things, it only made them feel worse.

"Angelus," Willow murmured, breaking the stillness.

"Hmm?"

"Angelus killed Ms. Calendar," she asserted, "not Angel."

"Right."

Another beat passed.

“I really thought I had a chance to do the spell in time.” Willow said suddenly, surprising Buffy. “I wanted to be able to bring him back. For you.”

“I know, Will.” Buffy said. “I only just now realised that I’m not sure if I ever thanked you for what you did. You risked your life to re-ensoul Angel. Twice. And all because you wanted me to have my honey back. Kind of redefines the whole friendship thing.”

“Well,” Willow ventured, “you know it wasn’t just for you. I mean, Angel was my friend and if the only two options are for me to make with the magicks or let my friends die, I tend to go for the non-death option.”

“Hmm,” Buffy remarked, “Well, as one of your friends I’m glad to hear that.”

Willow smiled. “I guess I just saw the whole you two being able to be together again, without the obstacles, would have been a bonus.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about the obstacle freeness.” Buffy hazarded. “There still would have been plenty of those to deal with.”

Willow thought about that. “Well, yeah I guess.”

“And you know something,” Buffy continued, contemplative, “I’m not really sure that even if you had been able to do the spell in time, that Angel and I ever would have been able to go back to the way things were. I mean so much, too much, had happened...” Her voice faded as she begun to do something she hadn’t allowed herself to do since the night she closed Acathala; she imagined if it had been Angel that was saved, and given his soul. And now with what Willow had told her about the alterations...

But, then what about Spike? Would he still have gotten his soul too? Or would he not be apart of her life at all?
She didn’t like that thought.

Would she really give up what she has now with Spike for another chance with Angel?

That thought wasn’t very pleasant either.

She shook her head trying to clear it. It was the same like with Ms. Calender; thinking about the what ifs didn’t do anybody any good.

“Buffy?” Came Willow’s gentle prodding voice.

“Sorry, Will,” she had to clear her throat against a lump that had started to swell, “I was just...”

“Thinking.”

“Yeah,” she gave a small smile, “thinking.” She blinked away the moisture in her eyes and took a breath.

Willow frowned. “Gosh, I’m sorry Buff. I didn’t mean to put such a damper on our inaugural girl’s night since...” Well though both knew what since.

Buffy waved her hand dismissively. "Ah, it’s okay." she assured. “It’s okay really. All the best chats end in tears.”

They shared a smile.

Buffy took another deep breath. “Okay,” she said, shifting gears, “I’m bored talking about me. Let’s talk about you and your guy," She waggled her eyebrows up and down. "How have things been progressing between you and Oz?"

Willow blushed and smiled. "They've...progressed," she replied, dipping her head down bashfully.

Buffy's eyes widened. "Oh my God, Willow, have you two – I mean, you haven't, you know have you–"

"Oh no!" Willow interjected. "Not even close. Well, not really. Closer than I've ever been before – not that that would take much – but not, you know, that close. But, we have had some pretty intense smoochies."

Buffy smiled wistfully. "Ah, yes, smoochies, I remember them well."

Willow laughed. "You talk like you'll never have them again. You will."

"Yeah, maybe," Buffy said, dubious. "But I don't think that will be anytime soon."

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be as long as you think.” Willow ventured. “I mean we already established the you liking Spike thing and now that you know about the curse...”

Buffy shook her head. “It’s just too soon, Will.” She declared. “For both of us, me and Spike. I’m not the only that’s lost someone. Spike was in love with Drusilla for over a century. I think he’s gonna need a little time to get over her killing herself. Plus, with all the other stuff he’s dealing with, having a soul...” she shook her head again. “It’s just not the right time. I just don't want to rush into something. Rushing leads to messing and I have enough messes right now.”

Willow smiled sympathetically. "I get it.”

Buffy sighed. “So for now I’m more than content to just live vicariously through you.” she said. “So, about these smoochies....”

~*~*~*~

She hadn't even been gone a whole day - only a few hours. A handful really, yet Spike already felt her absence greatly. The lofty mansion felt colder without her presence; a vast empty cavern, dark and dank with no life, no light. The Slayer had a glow about her, he had noticed, but he didn't realize just how bright it shone until she was gone and he was left with only darkness.

Spike had that awful, anxious feeling that he used to get whenever she had to leave to get blood and food. He wanted her to hurry up and come back, to calm the storm churning in his soul with her mere proximity. But she wasn't coming back in an hour.

What if she doesn't come back at all? Spike was horrified by the thought. He knew she had said, had promised, that she would come back, that she would check on him. Spike had no reason to doubt her word; he knew Buffy was loyal to it. But now that she was going back to her life, to her friends, and to her Slayer duties, Spike feared that she may soon forget about him. Or decide she no longer wanted the extra burden he represented.

He wouldn't blame her for it. But god, he hoped that didn't happen. Just the thought sent him down a worried spiral. Spike had to believe that Buffy would come back, or else he would go insane.

He tried to forget about it for now, tried to relax and toughen up. The way he was acting was like a child who had never spent the night on his own before. He found a bottle of whisky left over from before – he had drank the stuff often in the days of Angelus' reign, trying to drown out the sounds of the bastard taking his woman, of Drusilla crying out Angel’s name instead of Spike’s. The alcohol had done an adequate enough job of numbing him then and he hoped for a similar result now.

Spike took it to his bed and downed the whole thing. Soon enough, he passed out, only to wake soon later from one of his terrible nightmares of people screaming. People being subjected to the worst kind of torment imaginable, their faces bloodied and tear stained. His own face would soon appear, smiling in delight as the tortured begged for mercy or death. Spike jolted awake and leapt out of his bed, running down the hall to Buffy's room. He was halfway there before he remembered that she was gone. Still, he continued on anyway.

He entered the room and lay down on the bed. Not surprisingly, he was not overcome with vision of the lives he had drained on this very bed, just the picture of that sweet, vulnerable smile and kaleidoscope eyes. He buried his face into the pillow that Buffy had laid her golden head on; it still smelled like her. He breathed the blissful fragrance in deeply, becoming more drunk on it than he had the whisky as he soon drifted off to sleep. This time, Spike was not plagued by nightmares, but by dreams of the girl he had come to care for so much in such a sort time. Dreams made bittersweet, as Spike knew they would never come true.

TBC...