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Author's Chapter Notes:
Real life made me neglect this and all my other fics for a while, and I'm sorry for that. But I appreciate all my loyal readers on this fic who have put up with huge posting gaps and a painful level of UST. I showed my appreciation here with an extra long chapter, and I will do all I can to have more frequent updates from now on. Thank you so much to every one who has been reading this, and an extra special thanks to those who have been kind enough to review. This is a hard fic to write, and your words of encouragement have meant more to me than I can even begin to tell you.
As mentioned in the fic, "Fire" is originally the Pointer Sisters, though there is a version done by Ghost of the Robot out there, so if you can hunt it down, you can hear James singing it. And "Angel" is by Ghost of the Robot, written by James Marsters. I'm sure you all know who he is…
Buffy came home to find Spike in the living room, packing his things in the large duffle bag he'd brought with him when he'd first come to New York. Buffy stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him. It had been over a week since he'd announced he was moving out, and even though their relationship had remained strained, she'd hoped he'd decided to stick around after all. Buffy realized now that he'd been serious. He was really leaving.

That was what she wanted, wasn't it? She'd been waiting for him to leave ever since he'd arrived. She should be running over there now to speed up his departure.

She wasn't. She wanted to cry. It shocked her now as she realized how much she'd come to rely on him. He'd helped her pay the bills, made sure she ate enough, and had helped her sleep at night. Somehow, he'd managed to set himself firmly in her life without her even being aware of it as it was happening. She always grabbed her toothbrush now without having to remember whose was green and whose was blue. She used to trip over his boots every morning, but now she picked them up from the middle of the floor and put them by the couch as routine. She was used to his favorite foods in the fridge and to his laundry being mixed with hers.

How was she going to live without that now?

Buffy pulled her chin up. She'd lived without Spike for longer than she'd lived with him. She could pull through the way she always did. If she was anything, it was a survivor. She'd faced things much worse than this and made it through.

She shut the front door and came into the living room, setting her books on the kitchen table as she passed it. "Did you find a new place to live?" she asked, hoping her tone was conversational.

"More or less," Spike replied, shoving a wad of black t-shirts into his bag. "I'm staying with Oz for a bit until I can find something I like."

"You don't have to do that," Buffy said. "I mean, you can stay here until you find something more permanent. No point in couch hopping."

"Yeah, there is."

"But…"

Spike threw a shirt into the bag, then turned around. "I can't do this anymore, Buffy! I can't sit here and watch you go on date after date with Wanker Finn. I can't listen to you gush to your friends about him on the bloody phone. And I certainly can't sleep on this couch and pretend I don't want to be in the bed with you. So yeah, I have to do this. I've taken too long to get out of here as it is."

"When are you leaving?"

"Now. I was hoping to be gone before you got back from class."

He had been planning to leave without saying good bye? Buffy fought back tears again. She wasn't going to cry in front of him, not over this. "Can…can we see each other sometime?"

"Probably not."

"So this is just it? Good bye forever?"

"Looks like it." Spike finished packing and zipped the bag. "Take care of yourself, Summers," he said, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

"You, too, Spike," Buffy replied softly.

He gave her a nod and walked out of the apartment. The door shutting behind him sounded so final, and Buffy noticed that he'd left his key on the side table beside the couch. She let out a long, shuttering breath, feeling the pain of yet another person leaving her.

*** *** ***

"Well, I'd take you on the grand tour, but you can pretty much see everything there is from right here. That little space over there with the ancient linoleum and that thing I think may classify as a window is the kitchen. Bedroom is the mattress in the corner. First door on your left is the bathroom, second is the closet. It holds all of nothing. And that couch behind the amps is where you'll be sleeping, should manage to be able to get to it."

Spike glanced down at the man standing beside him. "Thanks for letting me crash here, Oz. I was really in a bind."

"Don't mention it. My door's always open to a friend in need. Besides, you're the most together lead singer Dingoes has ever had. Couldn't let you stay out in the streets and lose your voice to pneumonia or something," Oz replied.

"I do appreciate it though. Living with Buffy was getting…difficult."

"Are you going to all right to perform tonight?"

"What? Yeah, of course. I mean, I'm free of the little chit now, so problem solved."

Oz raised an eyebrow, but left it at that. "Well, make yourself at home. If you smell something really unpleasant, it's only Mrs. Stanton next door cooking dinner. Just try to breathe through your nose and be thankful you're not Mr. Stanton."

Spike chuckled. "Thanks for the warning."

"Anytime. Hey, I need to go see if this part I need for my van is in yet. You settled in enough here?"

"Yeah. I think I'm going to make my way through the amp jungle and get some rest for tonight."

"All right. I'll be back in a bit."

"Thanks again for this, mate."

Oz gave Spike a small nod and left. Spike made his way over to the couch and put his bag on a clear spot of carpet before lying down. His thoughts quickly drifted to Buffy, and he cursed himself for developing such a soft spot for her. He wanted to not care—to not even think about her—but he couldn't help but wonder what she was doing right then. He felt a pang of guilt for leaving her alone, but told himself it was what she'd wanted all along anyway. She was probably relieved that he was finally out of her way. She could go about her life now with that perfect boyfriend of hers. No irritating family obligation to muck things up for her.

Sure, it stung a bit now, but Spike had no doubt that he could numb the pain. He had when his mother had died and when Drusilla had left him. He could certainly get over whatever it was he felt for a woman he'd only known for a couple of months. Buffy was nothing to him. Easily forgettable.

He'd just have to keep telling himself that until she stopped invading his every thought.

*** *** ***

The apartment was too quiet. Spike had always made some sort of noise, even if it was just rustling from his near-constant fidgeting. It had bothered her at first, but Buffy had gotten used to it, and now she saw that she'd even come to expect it. Desperate to keep herself from thinking too much in the silence, Buffy turned on the television. It was set to NBC, and she realized that meant that Spike had probably watched Passions that afternoon.

Buffy could picture him, just a few hours earlier, sprawled out on her couch, catching up on the latest exploits of the citizens of Harmony. And now, just like that, he was gone.

She'd kept him at a distance to save herself from pain, but somehow, she'd still ended up hurt. She wanted to scream, cry, anything to let out the pain that was welling up inside her. It wasn't fair. She'd fought so hard to keep her heart protected, and it had all been for nothing.

*** *** ***

"Buffy, can I talk to you?" Anya asked, coming behind the counter in the bakery.

"Yeah, sure," Buffy replied.

"In my office."

Buffy frowned. Anya never wanted to talk to her in her office. "Um, okay," she replied, following the other woman into the room in the back, jumping a little when Anya closed the door behind them.

"Have a seat," Anya said, gesturing to a chair as she sat down behind the desk.

Buffy did as she was told, then asked, "What's wrong?"

"Your drawer was short when you closed yesterday."

Buffy's eyes widened. "I…I didn't take anything from it, I swear. I don't…"

Anya waved her hand, cutting Buffy off. "I know you didn't. You just had some things tallied up wrong. And I recounted it all for you this morning before Snyder got here."

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. "So why did you call me in here then?" she asked.

"Because you've been out of it all week. You don't make mistakes like that. You're normally one of he best employees I've ever had here. But lately, you've been messing up orders, forgetting about some completely, and now this with the drawer. I need to know that you're not slipping."

"I'm not. And I'm sorry for all my screw ups. I've just…had a lot on my mind."

"Is it too much? Because, well…" Anya glanced back at the door, then leaned across the desk, lowering her voice when she spoke again. "My loan was approved, and I've bought my shop. I'm almost ready to set it up, and I want you and Willow there with me as co-managers. It's going to be a small store at first, but I know you're both in school, and it would probably be too much for either one of you to help me manage on your own. But if you're falling apart…" Anya took a deep breath. "Buffy, I consider you a friend, but I won't lose money, even for a friend. If you've got some personal problem that's making you all crazy in the head, be upfront with me now, please, before I entrust you with my future business."

Buffy took a moment, surprised at what Anya was offering her. She'd thought that Anya would probably offer her a job as a clerk if she got her shop up and running, but asking her to help her run the place… "I can get everything in my life back together," Buffy promised. "I know I've been off this week, but I'll get better. If you'd do that for me, Anya, I swear I wouldn't disappoint you."

"Good to hear. Just keep quiet about it for now. It's going to be a little while still before I'm ready to leave this place, and I don't want Rat-Man to fire me before that."

"You got it. I'll be zip-lip girl."

"Great!" Anya exclaimed, sitting up straight again. "Look, I'm not too good at the casually trying to bring the conversation around to girl talk thing, so is this about Spike?"

"Huh?"

"Well, something's obviously gotten you upset enough to lose your head, and in my experience, that something is usually a guy. You're with Riley, but you seem to have as much interest in him as you would in a moldy potato, so he can't be the one you're all wiggy over. The only other men you know well are Xander and Spike, and Xander's mine. That leaves Spike."

Buffy gaped at Anya's convoluted—and all too accurate—logic. "I'm…I'm just tired."

"Oh. Well, I know you're lying, but that's your choice." Anya put on her perkiest smile and reached across the desk, patting Buffy's hand. "Buck up, you."

Buffy smirked. "Thanks for your attempt at cheering me up."

"No problem. Now get back to work. And watch what you're doing. No more giving grande mochaccinos to customers who order a tall skinny latte."

Buffy winced as she remembered that morning's catastrophe. "Will do. And Anya—thanks. Really."

"Thank me by watching out for my profits when the time comes, all right?"

"It's a deal," Buffy replied with a genuine smile.

*** *** ***

Buffy put on her brightest grin as she opened the door for Riley. She'd spent every evening she'd had off with him. She hated to admit it to herself, but a lot of that was because she hated being in her apartment alone. This way, she could go someplace with Riley, keep herself occupied, then go home and go to bed.

"You look as beautiful as always," Riley said, giving her that smile that Buffy found just a little too on the goofy side.

"Thanks. So where are we going tonight again?"

"That club with Forrest and April, remember? They're waiting for us downstairs."

Buffy suppressed a groan. How could she have forgotten? Out of all of Riley's obnoxious friends, Forrest was her least favorite. "Right. Well, let's go then," she said, doing her best to look happy. Buffy stepped out into the hallway, locking the door behind her. Riley took her hand as they walked away and, despite her inward cringe, Buffy didn't let herself pull away.

*** *** ***

The band currently playing was by far one of the worst Buffy had ever heard, but at least they were loud enough to prevent any actual conversation. However, that didn't stop Riley from touching her. It seemed like he had to always have his hands somewhere on her. Never to the point of crossing any lines, but enough to be irritating. Hadn't the man ever heard of personal space?

The first band left the stage, and Buffy wasn't sure if she was relieved or not. There was still music, but not the horrible din that had allowed her to remain silent before. "The next band is really good," April announced. "I saw them last week. You guys will love them."

"What's the band?" Riley asked.

"Dingoes Ate My Baby."

The fake smile Buffy had been wearing for most of the night fell from her face. This couldn't be real. Someone had to be playing a cruel joke on her. And Riley's obsession with always being "punctual" had gotten them a table close to the stage, too. She was just deciding what illness to fake when she heard Riley ask, "Hey, Buffy, isn't that your brother?"

Buffy wanted to crawl under the table. Spike was on stage now, setting up with the rest of the band. He hadn't seen her yet, and Buffy wondered if she could make it to the door if she ran now. She'd just tell Riley something later, like she'd suddenly remembered she was late for an appendectomy.

But then Spike turned, and it was too late. His eyes met hers, and there was a moment of surprise before he realized Buffy was not just there, but there with Riley. His expression went cold, and he turned away.

Buffy's heart dropped. She hadn't wanted Spike to notice her, but when he had… Did he want her out of his life so much that he couldn't as much as wave at her now?

"Buffy?"

She looked up quickly at Riley, having forgotten for a moment that he was even there. "Yeah?"

"I asked if that was your brother…"

"Oh. Yeah, that's Spike."

April leaned towards Buffy, putting her hand on her arm and making Buffy bristle. "The lead singer is your brother?"

"Um, uh huh," Buffy replied, her tone a little squeaky.

"Damn, you have one fine brother." April kissed Forrest on the cheek. "But not any better looking that you, honey."

"I met him once," Riley said. "He seemed a little surly to me."

Buffy slunk in her chair, wondering why on earth this was happening to her.

*** *** ***

Spike couldn't believe Buffy was sitting in the audience. Front and center, looking even more beautiful than he even remembered. He'd forced himself not to look at her through the first couple of songs, but he could still feel her presence, her wide green eyes following his every move. He slammed back his drink, hoping it would help him get through this set. He took a deep breath and turned back to the mic. He could do this. It was just another performance.

Buffy didn't want to keep staring. She wanted to look anywhere but at Spike. She was sure that the table top would be much more fascinating. But she couldn't pull her eyes away. He was gorgeous on stage, so completely in his element. Another song began, and she recognized it as a cover of the Pointer Sisters' "Fire." As he got to the end of the first verse, Spike turned his gaze to Buffy for the first time since he'd started performing, looking as if he was singing directly to her.

"You say you don't like it
But I know you're a liar
'Cause when we kiss
Oooh…Fire."

Buffy gulped, noticing how he'd slightly tweaked the lyrics. He winked at her, and she wanted to disappear. Did Riley notice? She gave him a quick glance, but he seemed oblivious. Buffy wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing… She turned back to the stage, and Spike met her eyes again, this time, curling his tongue against his teeth as he did. Buffy was fairly sure she was going to spontaneously combust. It wasn't fair for him to be that sexy.

Spike didn't know what possessed him to start singing to Buffy. Maybe it was the lyrics, hitting a little too close to home for him not to. But she seemed to be liking it, if her wide eyes and heavy breathing were any indication. He threw in that thing he did with tongue he knew women liked for good measure and grinned inwardly when he saw her gasp. Yeah, she was liking this. He amped up his performance a bit, making sure to give Buffy a good show.

Buffy felt like she was going to hyperventilate. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her? God, he was like sex in tight denim up on that stage. He'd broken away from her gaze for a bit, but as he came to the last verse, he locked his eyes with her again, leaving no doubts in her mind that he was singing directly to her.

"You had a hold on me right from the start
A grip so tight, I couldn't tear it apart
My nerves all jumpin', acting like a fool
Well your kisses they burn
But your heart stays cool

Well, Romeo and Juliet
Sampson and Delilah
Baby, you can bet their love couldn't be denied
Your words say split
But your words they lie
'Cause when we kiss
Oooh…Fire…"

He ended the song by doing that blasted tongue thing again, and as most of the crowd clapped, Buffy jumped up out of her seat, running for the bathroom. Spike smirked as he watched her go.

April announced that she was going to go check on Buffy, leaving Forrest and Riley at the table alone. Forrest leaned over to Riley.

"Man, that ain't her brother."

"What?"

"They're making with the hot naked sex."

Riley gave his friend an angry look. "Buffy said he's her brother, and I believe her. They're not making with the hot naked anything."

"You are way too gullible. Did you see that just then? He was practically having sex with her from the stage!"

"You're delusional, Forrest."

"Whatever, man, but if that's her brother, then she's got one fucked up family."

"Don't talk about Buffy that way," Riley said with a glare.

Forrest held up his hands. "Just looking out for you."

"Well, don't." Riley turned back to the stage, a sour look on his face.

*** *** ***

Buffy gripped the side of the sink, taking deep breaths despite the horrible smell in the club's bathroom. Why had Spike done that to her? Had he purposely been trying to torment her? Had he wanted to prove some point?

"Buffy, are you okay?"

Buffy turned sharply as April came into the bathroom. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Well, you were acting sort of funny through that song, and then you ran off right after it was over."

"It, um, brings up bad memories for me," Buffy lied, hoping she could be convincing.

"Oh. Then why did your brother sing it?"

"Spike? He likes to torment me. You know big brothers…" Buffy laughed nervously.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"No!" Buffy said quickly. As difficult as being around Spike was, she didn't want to leave either. "I'm okay now. We can go back to the table."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Buffy replied.

"All right…" April said, obviously less than convinced, but not going to push the issue any more.

The two women left the bathroom.

*** *** ***

For the next several songs, Spike virtually ignored her. There was a glance here and there, but nothing anywhere near what he had done earlier. Buffy figured she should be feeling relief, but she wasn't. She wanted his attention again.

After finishing another song, Spike put down his electric guitar, conferring for a moment with the rest of the band before picking up an acoustic one and going back to the front of the stage. He pulled up a stool, sitting on it before resizing the mic stand so it was where he could reach it.

"This is a new one I haven't done before, but I'd like to tonight since the girl I wrote it for is sitting right here in the audience."

Buffy paled. He couldn't be about to do what she thought he was going to do… But his eyes were back on her as he started to strum the guitar and opened his mouth to sing.

"She comes home to me after a hard night's work
Falls in my arms and sleeps like a bird
Startled, she wakes up like she don't know me
Cocks back a fist like she'd going to slug me
Like who are you anyway
And what are you doing to me?

"She's an angel
She can't see it
She's got wings
She can't feel 'em
She's an angel
She can't see it
But she's flying above me every day
Every day of my life.

"Bright diamond eyes with daggers beneath them
She carries the chains of a million decisions
That weren't even hers to begin with anyway
But she carries them all
All the people around her
Never even notice that she's very very tired."

As Spike began the chorus repeat, Riley grabbed Buffy's arm, pulling her up out of her chair. Buffy looked at him, tears in her eyes. She didn't want to leave now, not after Spike had just sung that to her. Was that what he really felt about her? And if it was, well, she'd made a horrible mistake.

"Come on, Buffy, we're leaving," Riley said tersely.

"I don't want…" Buffy's protest died on her lips as Riley started to pull her away from the table. He was hurting her arm, but when she tried to get away, his grip only tightened.

Spike was off the stage before Buffy could even register that he'd moved. He cut in front of Riley, his eyes narrowed. "Let her go," he snarled.

"What, come to protect your sister?" Riley sneered. "Look, I don't know who the hell you really are or what sort of sick fantasies you have about Buffy, but I'm not going to sit here and let you sing to my girl that way."

"Yeah, and I'm not going to let you drag her out of her like a sodding caveman. So let her go before I have to break something—most likely your face."

Riley puffed himself up and looked down at Spike. "Am I supposed to be afraid of you?"

"You would be if you were smart, boy," Spike replied in a tone dark enough to make Riley back down a bit. "Now let Buffy go, so I won't have to knock out all of your very shiny teeth, piss off of the manager, and get my paycheck for the night withheld. Deal?"

"Riley, please, just let me go," Buffy said softly.

Riley looked down at her for a moment before dropping her arm as if it was on fire. "You're disgusting, you know that?" he said before storming out of the club, Forrest and April not far behind him.

Spike turned to Buffy then, pushing her hair away from her face. "Are you all right, kitten?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. Although I think he left a bruise on my arm…"

Spike's jaw ticked. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"It's…it's all right." Buffy looked down. "I liked the song."

"You did?"

"Uh huh."

For the first time in weeks, Spike was genuinely happy. "Look, I have to finish this set, but then we can talk, yeah?"

"Okay," Buffy agreed.

Spike pointed over to a table on the other side of the stage. "See the woman there in the red and black shirt?"

"Yeah."

"That's the drummer's girlfriend, Mona. Go sit with her for now, and I'll come get you when I'm done."

"All right."

Spike grinned before running back on stage, getting the band to quickly start up another song to get the audience's mind of what had just happened. Buffy made her way over to Mona, suddenly feeling as if she could fly.

*** *** ***

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