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Chapter Seven
by Starshine
 
Buffy stood in the darkness under the same tree she had caught Spike standing under the night she had found out that Dawn was the Key. Leaning against the rough bark, she closed her eyes. It all seemed like a lifetime ago. Who was she kidding? It was a lifetime ago.
 
147 days. According to Spike, that’s how long she had been gone.
 
It seemed much longer.  
 
He had cautioned her to stay out of sight while he spied out the situation inside the well-lit house. She watched as he slipped around the porch and made his way back to her.
 
“Well?” she asked, keeping her voice pitched low.
 
Spike lit a cigarette, only to have Buffy arch an eyebrow at him. Rolling his eyes, he threw it on the ground and crushed it under his heel.
 
She bit back a smile. He really was adorable when he pouted like that. She knew on some level that she should be seriously wigged by her tender feelings for the blond vampire, but in truth; nothing else in this whole fiasco felt more RIGHT.
 
Much of her time since her return had been spent sleeping, healing her mind and body after the chaos that Willow’s spell had wrought. He had rarely left her side, only venturing once to pick up some food and blood. When the inevitable nightmares came, he was right there, calming her with soothing words and a soft touch. Whatever doubts she’d had in the past, she now knew with absolute certainty that Spike would do anything for her.
 
“I wish I could tell you different, luv,” he was saying. “But it seems as if the gang’s all bloody here. The Whelp and his demon bird, Captain Cardboard, the lovers Wicca, the Bit, and of course the Broody Bastard. All hunkered down and waiting for you.”
 
“Got a nickname for everyone, don’t you?” Buffy snorted. He was relieved to hear that her pithy sense of humor was gradually making a come back.
 
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, luv,” he teased with a wink.
 
She was suddenly in his arms, her hands clutching desperately at the hard muscles of his back under all that black leather.
 
His arms went around her and Spike stroked her silky hair with a bittersweet smile. “No one says you have to go back there tonight, Buffy,” he insisted, giving her an out if she chose to take it. He pressed his lips to the marks on her neck in reassurance.
 
Buffy stepped back with a heartfelt sigh and a look of resignation on her face. “I need to face them. As much as I want to stay in the crypt, I know I have to go back. Dawnie needs me. I guess in a way I need her too.”
 
Spike nodded, stretching his hand out to her like he had so many times before. Unlike those times, Buffy took it without hesitation or suspicion, lacing her slim fingers with his. She gathered her strength as Spike led her up the front walk to her house. 
 
They both stopped at the door, listening to the raised voices yelling back and forth at each other. The harsh racket ebbed and flowed around her, piercing her sensitive ears with their anger and accusations. She pressed her hand against the door, trying to use its solid presence to steady her fragile nerves.
 
Spike swung her duffle bag over his shoulder and moved to stand behind her in a silent show of strength. Buffy smiled up at him gratefully and reached out to turn the doorknob.
 
It swung open before she could even grasp it. Angel stood in the opening, a stunned expression on his face.
 
Xander and Riley stood just behind him, fuming. From where they stood it looked like Buffy and Spike were locked in a lover’s embrace.
 
"You're here," Riley said lamely.
 
Buffy took a step forward, forcing Angel to step back or be trampled underfoot.
 
"Obviously. And fully equipped with the heartbeat and breathing thingy. Full-fledged human being here," Buffy commented looking straight at Riley.
 
Spike fought the urged to laugh at Buffy's obvious dig at her not so clued-in ex. He could tell by the glint in her eyes that she had done that for him. She knew how disgusted Spike had been with the thought anyone would even think he would do something so low. He may be a demon but there were just some things...
 
“Nice of you to show up,” Anya said breaking Spike from his internal rant. He watched as she rolled her eyes. “I’m hungry and there is hardly anything to eat here.”
 
“Unless you’re Spike,” Xander muttered sotto voce.
 
Angel looked at Xander carefully. “I resemble that remark.”
 
Buffy picked up a picture of her mother from a side table and ran her fingers delicately over the surface. The expression of sadness on her face was heart wrenching to see. 
 
“Uh…Buffy? Aren’t you going to invite Spike in?” Angel asked.
 
Spike smirked and made a great show of strolling over the threshold. “Thanks for your concern, mate. Don’t need an invite.”
 
Angel crossed his arms and slouched against the door frame, the heavy pout on his face doing nothing for his looks.
 
Buffy moved further into the living room, gauging everyone’s reaction. At one time they were her friends, her world. Because her Calling had to always come first, she held most people at a distance; afraid to be too close to anyone. But these were the few people that she allowed inside her heart. She gave more of herself to them than anything else in the world.
 
She felt like there was this great chasm standing between them. She knew she was angry, and she felt betrayed, but there was something else that bothered her about them. They all seemed a bit too... alive. Death had never touched their bodies; not the way it had Buffy’s. They did not know what it felt like to be truly free. Only Spike knew what it felt like to be released from the things that seemed to govern everyone else; things they all seemed to cling to.
 
“Buffy, I’m so glad you’re here,” Dawn said. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, her blue eyes wide and anxious in her pale face.
 
A long, tense moment passed as she looked at her sister, but eventually Buffy relented and reached out for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, Dawn ran into her sister’s arms.
 
Encouraged by this action, Xander sighed in relief. Maybe she was coming around?
 
That fervent wish was shot down the second Willow stepped forward. “Buffy, I’m…”
 
Buffy jerked back, dragging a surprised Dawn with her. Her sudden movement broke the silent visual showdown Spike was having with his grand-sire. In an instant he was beside Buffy, his arm wrapped around her as she held her weeping sister.
 
“I swear, Buffy, I would never have done it if I knew,” Dawn pleaded for her to understand.
 
“I know, Dawnie.” Buffy said, swallowing down her own pain and bitterness. Dawn was just a child, after all. She had lost her mother and then her sister. Her grief could be explained, excused. She stroked the teenager’s cheek smiling at her in forgiveness.
 
“Buffy, we’re all here because we care. Angel told us what Spike did to you. We just want to help,” Xander explained.  
 
She turned to face everyone in the room. Angel left his place by the door to stand with the rest of the group as they waited for her response. All she had to do was say the word and Spike would be a distant, dusty memory.
 
She spoke to them all, but her eyes were on Angel. “Then you know it’s not something that Spike did by himself. It’s something WE did…together.”
 
Angel lowered his head. “You accepted it?” He asked his eyes on the floor.
 
Buffy nodded. “And reciprocated. Whole-heartedly.”
 
Angel looked around the room. “She’s been claimed, and she has claimed him in return. The bond is irreversible. There’s nothing anyone of us can do.”
 
“Like hell there isn’t!” Riley roared, running toward Spike.
 
Buffy pushed Dawn off to Spike. Grabbing Riley by his arm, she sent him flying into the back wall. He laid there, a look of utter stupefaction on his face until Xander hurried over to help him up.
 
“Jesus! Am I going to have to do this every night with one of you?” Buffy yelled.
 
"Buffy, you're not seeing things clearly." Riley said
 
"This coming from the man who yanked a sleeping girl out of a comfy bed because he thought she was a corpse?" Buffy challenged.
 
Anya crunched her nose in disgust at Riley. "You thought Spike..."
 
"It looked like he..." Riley sputtered.
 
"I don't think I should be hearing this," Dawn groaned, looking a little green from the mental image.
 
“Buffy, you need to understand. It’s just a little weird. It’s Spike. I remember what you told him. The only chance that he had with you was when you were unconscious,” Willow blurted out.
 
Buffy’s heart constricted as Spike visibly flinched. “That was a long time ago, Willow. I was a different person back then. So was Spike.”
 
Tara suddenly moved to stand at Buffy’s side in an obvious show of support. The flash of jealousy in Willow’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed.
 
“I think Buffy has made it pretty clear what Spike means to her. Fighting about it isn’t going to help anything. And if you guys keep going after him the way you do; it’s just going to make things worse. The best thing to do is to back off and give her the space she needs,” Tara advised.
 
Dawn turned to Buffy. You’re staying here, though. Right? I can make you some tea or something. Oh, and I dusted your room and changed the sheets,” she babbled.
 
Buffy smiled, allowing her sister to hug her. “Thanks, Dawnie. I would love some tea. I think I’ll go up, maybe take a nap.”
 
Spike took a step back. This was the moment he had been dreading. Buffy would return back in the fold, while he would be forced to go back to his crypt.
 
He had never claimed anyone before; not even Drusilla, so his knowledge of them was sketchy at best. But just the idea of being apart from her was enough to rouse the familiar ache that had been his constant companion for the 147 days she had been lost to him.
 
Then, something amazing happened. Buffy reached out her hand to him. “Spike and I just need to get settled in,” she said, the look in her eyes daring any of them to comment.
 
Grasping his hand, Buffy led him up the stairs. Spike could do nothing but follow her, his mind swimming with the intensity of his emotions.
 
Buffy had chosen him. HIM. Not Peaches. Not White-bread Finn. Him. Spike.
 
He was vaguely aware of her voice as she pulled him along behind her up the stairs.
 
“My room is kind of small. The basement might be better for us, because not so much with the sunlight. We can deal with all that later. Will a queen-sized bed be big enough, or should we get a king?” she chattered.
 
Spike felt himself bobbing along helplessly in the wake of her obvious enthusiasm.
 
It was almost surreal. There was no grand announcement. No fancy speech. Not even a need on her part to ask him if this what he wanted. It was simple. Buffy had decreed the matter settled.
 
Spike was staying
 tbc..

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