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Chapter 1-

The lock to the flat door swung open, and a young blonde man entered into the room very quickly. He slammed it shut, hurried over to his balcony, and opened the door.

He was a little late, but he got to see the sunrise.

It was so beautiful. It was every color of the rainbow. It reminded him of the beautiful woman he saw outside the bookshop in New York five years ago.

He thought about her often, but never really sought her out, even after he lost her business card.

Where are you my beautiful girl? My Angel...I could kick myself for not staying in New York. Why did I have to stay here in Paris? Why didn’t I ever go back? The play was over with. Why did I stay??? I know you’re probably with someone now, but I have to know, but I s’pose I’m afraid. Oh, I don’t know!

A knock came at the door, and it had brought him back out of his reverie.

Damn it.

“Who’s there?” He yelled.

“Spike, its Clem. Open up!”

Spike opened up the door, there stood a young man with long brown hair pulled back in a pony tail. Clem had dermatitis and it was really bad on his face. He was always scratching his face, which irritated Spike.

“Clem, what do you want? I was just about to go the bed!”

“Spike, you know you weren’t going to bed! You were thinking of her again!”

“Was not! I was watchin’ the sunset!”

“...And thinking about her. If you want her, go get her!” Clem grabbed the phone on the table nearby, and handed it to Spike. “Call her.”

“I...I...don’t have her number. I lost it. Besides, it was five years ago. She’s probably married or at least seeing someone.”

“That never stopped you before!” Clem quipped.

“Shut your trap!” Spike grabbed the phone away. He dialed the international operator. “Um, yes, I’d like the number for New York City’s information.” He waited to be connected with the operator. It seemed like forever waiting, but only five minutes have passed. “Yes, I’d like the number for Elizabeth Ann Summers, please.” As Spike was waiting, he began to get nervous. He couldn’t do it.

I’m too chicken. What would she think of me calling her after all this time? No. I can’t do it. NO I won’t!!

He looked at Clem. You can’t make me do it spread across his face.

Spike took the phone away from his ear, and was ready to hang up, when Clem grabbed the phone away. “Not so fast, Spike.” It was just in time too, the operator had the number ready. Clem quickly wrote the number down and turned the phone off. “You’re calling!! At least you owe her that much!” Spike grabbed the phone back from Clem and ushered him out the door. “Wait? Don’t you need this?” Spike tore the number out of Clem’s hand and slammed the door at him. “SPIKE! C’mon. You can’t do that to me. SPIKE!”

“Watch me!” He set the phone down on its cradle and walked back to his bedroom ignoring Clem yelling from the hallway.

Spike sat on his bed, looking at the number.

“I’m not going to call her.” He crumbled up the paper and threw it of into the corner or the room. Stripped and laid down, he was fast asleep, dreaming of his Angel. Dreaming of their first meeting. Their touch. The electricity each one sent to one another. Suddenly the dream changed to a French café, with a candlelight dinner for two.

“Spike, I love you. I wish it could always be like this!” Buffy kissed his cheek.

“I love you, too!” The dream changed again. This time the couple was back at his flat. Tearing each other’s close off, and piling them into a pool on the floor.

“Oh Spike!”

“My Angel!” As things began to heat up; he called out to her in his sleep with a moan, “Oh Elizabeth, My Angel.” Spike suddenly woke up and he sat at the edge of the bed, “Bloody hell that happens right at the exact same moment every time I have this freakin’ dream!” He got up, began pacing the floor, and he saw the rumpled up piece of piece. “No!” He lay back down once again, hoping to get some sleep. Hoping that his dream would play itself out. That wasn’t meant to be, he tossed and turned, but all he could think about was his Angel in arms, and making love to her. “Bugger this!” Spike could not take it any longer. He grabbed the phone on his nightstand, and dialed his assistant. “Hey, yeah, Alexia. Tis early, I know. Book me on the next available fight; I’m going back to New York. While you’re at it, make sure the loft is fully stocked with food, and ready for me to move in again.”

“IS there anything else? Would you like me to have your flat closed up as well?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if or when I’ll be back!”

“Ok, will do. I’ll call you back in about 20 minutes with your reservations.”

“Thanks! Bye...” He was interrupted by Alexia, “Going to her, heh?”

Spike inhaled deeply. He didn’t know how she knew what he was thinking. “How did you know??”

“I know you very well, William.” She giggled and hung up the phone.

Spike shook his head and smiled. “Bloody hell, I can’t believe her.” He hung up the phone.

***
Twenty minutes passed, Alexia had called him with the reservation, “Your reservation is waiting at you for the Issy Les Moulineaux Airport. The flight will be 8 hours nonstop to New York’s JFK. Everything will be ready as soon as you fly in. I’ve also arranged for a limo to pick you up.”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. I’ve also called cab for you, so it should be there waiting for you!!”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you!”

“You’d probably forget your own name.” She joked.

“Yeah, yeah!” He laughed as the cab driver honked the horn. “I gotta go. Cab’s here...bye!”

“Bye!”

Spike hung up, he was all packed and ready to go. He hurried out to the cab. He opened up the door, “Issy Les Moulineaux Airport, hurry.”

“Yes, Mr. Preston.” The taxi driver sped off while Spike was making him self comfortable.

The cab got caught in traffic, so he just made it to the airport with a few minutes to spare. Spike grabbed his bag, and climbed out of the cab. He went to the ticket holder, got his ticket, and got on the plane to head to New York.

***





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