Chapter One

William "Spike" Reeves entered the bar tired, worn and just wanting a drink to help him relax so he could go back to his dark little hotel room and go to bed. There'd been too much going on over the past few days and it was starting to wear
on him. He supposed that's what he got for up and leaving Seattle to trek down to L.A., leaving, well, not much of anything behind. Leaving anywhere to do anything was always a stress though.

He barely paid any attention to the loud music playing in the background of the band finishing its song as he sat down at the bar and mumbled his request for scotch. Lighting a cigarette he blew the smoke out at the same time he looked up into the mirror behind the bar that reflected the stage and
froze.

Buffy. Elizabeth "Buffy" Summers. Up on the stage, in front of the mic, ready to sing? Not shy, don't-want-to-draw-attention-to-myself Buffy Summers.

He swung to get a good look at her, his scotch forgotten as he took in the girl he hadn't seen in ten years. He wondered how his heart could beat rapidly and yet constricted in his chest at the same time. How in the world could the woman on stage be Buffy? At one time, his Buffy. Gone was the young girl with cute baby fat cheeks and womanly curves. Gone was the innocent face that used to look at him so adoringly. He chuckled at that. Of course she was no longer innocent. What happened. . . well, it didn't give either of them much of a chance for innocence.

He sat back, mesmerized, as he watched the woman before him do something that he never knew before that she had any interest in. And it wasn't to Britney Spears inspired music that he would normally attribute to Buffy. It was rock. And she fit the bill for a rock and roll singer. From her long flowing sun-kissed hair to the red tank, black leather pants and black boots, she exuded a woman that was in control and in charge of her life. He was riveted as she began to sing.

How to stay paralyzed by fear of abandonment
How to defer to men in solve-able predicaments
How to control someone to be a carbon copy of you
How to have that not work and have them run away from you

How to keep people at arm's length and never get too close
How to mistrust the ones you supposedly love the most
How to pretend you're fine and don't need help from anyone
How to feel worthless unless you're serving or helping someone

I'll teach you all this in eight easy steps
A course of a lifetime you'll never forget
I'll show you how to in eight easy steps
I'll show you how leadership looks when taught by the best

How to hate women when you're supposed to be a feminist
How to play all pious when you're really a hypocrite
How to hate god when you're a pray-er and a spiritualist
How to sabotage your fantasies by fears of success

I'll teach you all this in eight easy steps
A course of a lifetime you'll never forget
I'll show you how to in eight easy steps
I'll show you how leadership looks when taught by the best

I've been doing research for years
I've been practicing my ass off
I've been training my whole life for this moment I swear to you
Culminating just to be this well-versed leader before you

I'll teach you all this in eight easy steps
A course of a lifetime you'll never forget
I'll show you how to in eight easy steps
I'll show you how leadership looks when taught by the best

How to lie to yourself and thereby to everyone else
How to keep smiling when you're thinking of killing yourself
How to numb a la holic to avoid going within
How to stay stuck in blue by blaming them for everything

I'll teach you all this in eight easy steps
A course of a lifetime you'll never forget
I'll show you how to in eight easy steps
I'll show you how leadership looks when taught by the best

Okay, so maybe she had some issues. Could he blame her? God knew he still did. The crowd started to clap and Buffy smiled and waved. "Thank you," she said into the mic, a husky rasp to her voice. He watched her bounce away and Spike stood immediately. Okay now what? Go after her or leave? Just take this as a gift that he was able to see how Buffy had turned out after all these years and leave her be OR take this as a sign that he was meant to. . . to what? Fuck everything up for her again? He didn't know what to do and now his fingers were on fire.

"Fuck!" He shouted and dropped his cigarette, crushing it on the floor.


"Hey man, you going to have your drink or not?" The bartender asked him. Spike darted a look at the brown liquid in the shot glass and wondered if maybe he could find the answer in that drink. He snatched it up chugged it down, slamming it back down on the bar. He eyed the burly man behind the bar, figuring he could bide some time by pumping the man for possible information about Buffy and her band. He was a journalist; he could get away with this.

"Hey, you mind if I ask you a few questions mate?" Spike asked as he sat back down.

"No, what's on your mind?" The man asked.

"The band that just played. What's their name?"
The bartender narrowed his eyes, "why do you want to know?"

"I'm a rock journalist," Spike told him.

"Then shouldn't you know if you're writing about them? Their name is on the sign out front."

Spike sighed, "can you just tell me their name please? It's been a long day."

"Pangs. That's the name."

"Do they play here a lot?"

"Every weekend. Friday and Saturday nights. Shouldn't you be asking—"

"How long have they been playing for?"

"Over a year. Listen, I gotta get back to work. If you want to learn about the band, why don't you, I don't know, ask them?"
Spike glared at the man as he walked away. Turning back around, Spike surveyed the sea of faces, trying to find the answers he needed somewhere in the room. His answer came a minute later when Buffy, now wearing jeans, a T shirt and a hoodie came out from a side door next to the stage. She was talking to a tall, lean short haired man who appeared to be very business like. Buffy laughed and Spike smiled.
Before he knew what he was doing, Spike stood again and his feet were making strides in her direction. His heart thudding in his ears was the only sound he could hear and Buffy's face was the only thing he could see. What kind of moment was this going to be? It would be awkward at best. But would she hate him? Be kind? Would she be kind in a cold way or kind in a ‘you're an old friend' kind of way? Old friend Spike? Try lover. Were these one of those moments that was
best avoided or faced head on? He wouldn't know, he realized, until he spoke to her.

It was when he was practically on top of her that she noticed him. She tore her gaze from the tall man and darted a glance his way. Then stopped and did a double take. She stared at him, her expression unreadable.

"Hi Buffy," Spike somehow found his voice to greet her. He even managed a smile, a small, tentative smile.

She stared at him for a long while, as if she wasn't sure if she was imagining his presence there before her before she shook her head and flung herself into his arms. Relief spread over Spike like wild fire and he felt himself relax. He'd made the right choice.

She pulled back, smiling. "Spike. . . how are you?" She meant the question. She really wanted to know. Sincerity, not coldness.

"I'm good. I'm moving into the area. How are you, Buffy?"

"Good, I'm good too. Thanks for asking. Did you know I was here or--?"

"No, stumbled upon you as a matter of fact. I heard your last song. It was amazing Buffy. You were amazing. I never knew you—"

"Summers! You helping or not?"

Spike and Buffy both turned to see Xander—their old friend—coming from the same door Buffy had come from.

"Xander, look who it is," Buffy called to him, gesturing to Spike.

Xander's jaw dropped. "Spike?"

"Hey whelp," Spike greeted him, grinning.

"Wow," was all Xander could say.

Buffy turned back to Spike. "Listen, I have to help them load up our stuff. It was nice seeing you again. Take care," and she walked away from him, leaving Spike to stare after her his mouth opening to say something and then snapping it shut.

"So, you're Spike."

Spike finally noticed tall, lean man had apparently been standing there the whole time. "And you are?" Spike asked.

"Wesley Wyndham Pryce. The bands manager and Buffy's boyfriend." He was English, just like him. Coincedence?
The news hit Spike like a punch in his stomach. How could that be? It'd been ten years. What did he expect? For her to have never moved on? He had only ever wanted her to be happy after all.

"I'm not trying to intrude upon anything here, mate," Spike told the man, noticing how Wesley's blue eyes were cold as he regarded him.

Wesley nodded, "let's hope not." And he walked away.

Spike stood there, not sure what he expected from his ‘reunion' with Buffy after all this time, but somehow he knew what he just got, was not something he had wanted. He supposed seeing her again like that was the gift of seeing first hand that she was all right and then silently leaving without her ever knowing of his presence. He'd bollixed that one up, now hadn't he?

Honestly, what did he expect from her? What could they have possibly said to each other? What did you say to your first love and the mother to your dead child after ten years?


*Song by Alanis Morisette.

Chapter Two

Spike felt as if he were in a cloud from the night before. Seeing Buffy again after so long made him contemplative, reminiscent and depressed. One half of him wanted to see her again so they could talk, maybe find a way to make peace with the past while the other part wanted to leave things be. What would be the point in bringing up the past?

Well, to heal obviously.

So, it was in a thoughtful daze that Spike stood in line at the local coffee shop waiting for his extra strong coffee to be done so he could somehow cut through the fog in his brain from lack of sleep.

"Hey Marty, usual please."

His head snapped to the side. There she was again. She looked relaxed and comfortable in her jeans and shirt, her purse slung across her shoulders. Her hair bouncy and free, her face almost glowing.

She looked over to him and appeared surprised to see him there.

"Hi Buffy," he said to her, smiling as best he could.

"Hi. Fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah, fancy that."

Grabbing his coffee that was finally done, he paid and stood there, unsure of what to do. She took the decision out of his hands.

"See ya," she said brightly and promptly turned away from him to accept her coffee.

He gave her a nod and went on his not-so-merry way. He stopped outside with his coffee and a paper under his arm. He looked longingly down the busy street, knowing he could continue on in ignorance and put this behind him. That was the problem though. So much had to be ‘put behind him' with no closure, no peace and always wondering in the back of his mind. No, he wasn't just going to go. He was going to talk to her. She came out and nearly walked right into him.

"Spike," she breathed and took a step back, mindful of her coffee.

"You on your way to work?"

She nodded. "You?"

"No prospects yet, but I'm not worried. What do you do these days Buffy?"

"Lots of things. What about you? What have you done with yourself?"

Okay, so she wasn't exactly forthcoming with the information. He fought the urge to yell ‘fucking tell me SOMETHING!'

"I'm a journalist Rock journalist specifically. I just came from Seattle to see what good I could do here. What do you do?"

She tilted her head to the side, "you moved here from Seattle? I thought you were back in London."

The words hung heavy in the air. He swallowed the lump in his throat her words had caused to form. "I was there after. . . but I came back to the States a few years ago and settled in Seattle. I got tired of it and figured LA might have more to offer me."

She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. "But you don't have a job lined up?"

"Not yet."

"Little risky isn't it?"

He shrugged, "you know me. I take chances."

Her cheery and yet distanced neutral façade came to a screeching halt. Her expression darkened and her green eyes became cold. "Yeah, I know. I don't take chances anymore myself. Grew out of that phase. If you'll excuse me," and she started to walk past him.

"Buffy, can we talk?" He asked, surprised by the slight whine with a hint of desperation in his voice.

She blinked, "we are talking."

"No Buffy, you know what I mean."

She looked down and then up at him, squinting from the brightness of the sun. Shielding her eyes, she frowned slightly. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. It was nice to see you again though."

"Was it? Was it nice to see me? Because seeing you. . . I don't know if it could exactly be described as ‘nice.'"

She glared at him, "gee, thanks."

"It's hard Buffy, you know what I mean. Isn't it hard for you?"

"It's the past. Move on, live life to the fullest, leave the past in the past and well, you get it. That's what we're supposed to do right?"

"The angry girl I saw up on stage last night didn't seem as if she'd completely gotten over it," he countered. He just wanted her to at least admit something. Something. . . just SOMETHING.

"A lot of the things I sing about have nothing to do with you
Spike. Good to see you've gotten over being completely self-absorbed."

That stung. "That's not true Buffy, and you know it. I loved you. I loved our baby."

She took a few steps back as if his words had packed a punch and the force of it made her fall back a few.

She stared at the ground for a minute, her mouth in a firm line before she took a deep breath and looked back up at him, her back ramrod straight. "I have to go Spike. I'm glad that you're doing well and as you have seen, I'm doing well too. Let's just. . . let that be enough all right?"

He shook his head, "I don't know if I can do that Buffy. Too much happened for us to just go our separate ways like this."

"We managed for the past ten years," she told him, whatever anger she had been trying to contain came back now, full force. "If you were so goddamn curious about what happened to me, you could have called or written or anything. But you didn't."

"I wasn't ALLOWED to! If I remember correctly your MOTHER told me that if I contacted you in ANY way I'd be arrested on statutory rape. You knew I had to go. I was SENT away. What did you expect me to do?"

She shook her head and looked down again. "I don't know," she muttered. "Just a school girl fantasy. There was all that time after, I thought. . . but you didn't. It's dumb and it's pointless now."

Spike was suddenly hit with the fact that she wasn't really talking to him right now, this was something she told herself, something she kept telling herself. "Buffy. I didn't because I didn't want to hurt you. I thought by staying away it was the best for you."

She looked up at him and nodded, "and for you, right?"
Now he looked down. "Well, yeah."

"I don't hold that against you William. I did once upon a time, but not anymore. I had to grow up and get over those teenage fantasies that you would come back on your stead and whisk me away to your kingdom where we'd live happily ever after." She stared into her cup of coffee. "Things like that don't exist and I know that now."

He moved closer to her, the urge to hold her suddenly overwhelming. "I loved you Buffy. I loved you so much it hurt," he slapped a hand over his heart. "I would have done anything to make it all better for us. Maybe that's why we've seen each other again. To make it better."

She gazed up at him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. He moved to wipe them away when she moved away from him, quickly. She was shaking her head. "No, I don't want to do that Spike. That means having to reach back and remember. I don't want to remember. I live on a diet of denial and it's been working for me. I want to keep it that way."

"It's not right Buffy, it's not right and you know it."

"What do you want from me?" She exclaimed.

"I want to TALK to you. I want to know what you were going through, if it was the same as me. If you needed me as much as I needed you. If you loved me, if you hated me, if you blamed me the way your parents did. I want to know what made you finally leave their home and move here to LA. I want to know if you've loved since then. If you still dream of the big house with the white picket fence. If you thought of me. If you still hurt. If you can still have children. I want to know ABOUT you Buffy."

"I don't want to talk about it!" She yelled at him. "All of that stuff hurts too much to remember. I just want to forget it happened and live my new life. That old Buffy? She doesn't exist anymore. She was a wimp and she was dumb. She still believed in fairy tales and that love healed and conquered all. This Buffy standing here before you? Me? I DON'T. I grew up. I had no choice."

"I took it from you. Your innocence," he whispered, unable to look, at her.

"I was there too, William. I wanted you too, remember?"
He looked up at her, his own eyes brimming with tears now. "I remember," he whispered. "We have a second chance Buffy—"

"I have a boyfriend. There is no second chance for us."

"No, I mean. . . We have a second chance to fix the wrong things and make them right."

She shook her head, her bottom lip quivering. "No we don't. In order for that to happen, I would have to have my baby back."

"Our baby," he whispered fiercely.

"Our baby died the night we did," she said mournfully and wiped at her tears furiously.

"We needed each other that night," Spike told her.

A sob escaped her before, "I can't do this" and she bolted. Spike stood there and watched her go, feeling the life drain out of him the way it had that night so many years ago.

FLASHBACK

"What's happening? Why can't I see her? Is she all right?" Spike was frantic as he tried to get around his father and get to Buffy. She had called, frantic and in excruciating pain before she was rushed to the hospital. She'd called him in secret, telling him she had to go now because something was wrong with the baby.

"You son of a bitch! You stay away from my daughter!" Joyce was screaming, Hank, her husband, trying to keep her back.

Spike was in a blind panic, he didn't care that Joyce was mad at him, didn't even care if his Da was mad, he just knew that his Buffy was hurt and she needed him. She was scared, he knew she had to be scared. And he was so frightened by the thought that something had happened to her and to their baby. They hadn't even had a chance to tell their parents yet. He hadn't had a chance to give her his mothers ring and propose to her properly. He promised her he'd be with her every step of the way and now, now everyone was keeping him back.

"Mrs. Summers, please—" His father tried to stay calm through the screeching woman before them sobbing about her baby.

"You keep away from her. Do you understand? You keep away from her or I'll have you arrested," Joyce was yelling as a kind doctor directed her away to calm her down.

Hank, with his jaw clenching, came up to them. He stared Giles down. "Listen to me all right? Things got out of hand and it went too far. I told your son and I told Buffy that they weren't allowed to see each other. You agreed Rupert."

"I didn't know, Hank. I didn't know that they were. How was I supposed to know when you didn't either?"

Hank held up a hand and closed his eyes. "Keep your son away from her. They aren't to see each other anymore, understand? I don't even want them walking by each other in the halls of Sunnydale High. We're taking Buffy out of school. We're sending her to a private school—"

"She hates private schools. I'll leave her alone, just don't—" Spike pleaded.

"Shut UP!" Hank bellowed sharply. He took another deep sigh. "Keep him away from her Rupert or I will press charges. She's a minor. He's not. I can get him good. Understand?"

Rupert nodded, jaw clenching. Hank started to walk away.

"Our baby," Spike whimpered. "That's my child too!"

Hank spun around. "Your baby is dead. Buffy lost the baby."
END FLASHBACK

At that moment, Spike felt the urge to crumple to the ground and sob just as he had done that night. The last time Spike had seen Buffy was when he'd dropped her off a few yards away from her house so that her parents wouldn't see her sneaking in. He never got the chance to comfort her; they never got the chance to comfort each other. It was something he thought about for many years. Which was why he couldn't live on the same diet of denial. He needed to heal and understand why. And he needed Buffy in order to do just that.

Thank you guys for the tremendous support you've given this fic. I was a little afraid to post it b/c of the major angst, but it was an idea that just wouldn't leave me alone. If you have the time and the patience to stick through this one with all the angst, I think you'll find it worth your while. At least, I hope so!! Oh, and just a note, pretend that the songs buffy is singing are what she wrote, not just doing covers of. Makes the whole story more in depth that way. :) Enjoy!

Chapter Three

Buffy flopped herself back into her couch with a heavy sigh. “Wes, are you making dinner?” She called to her boyfriend as she flicked on the TV.

Wes came out of the kitchen a moment later and studied her. “You all right?”

“Yeah, why?” She stiffened.

“You look a little tired and stressed. Have a rough day at
work?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“Troubled teens?”

She rolled her eyes, “everyday there are troubled teens. Just goes with the territory of being in high school. It just seems that there can be this incredible lull where no one wants to talk to you because god forbid you actually TALK to some—“ She stopped, remembering her conversation with Spike that day and how she’d told him she didn’t want to talk to him about their issues. He was in pain, she could tell that much. It brought out feelings in her that she had thought that were long gone.

“Buffy?”

She looked up at Wes, “huh?”

“You were telling me about lulls and then you just stopped talking in mid-sentence.”

“Oh I did, didn’t I? It was just a really busy day. Felt like I got slammed all at once. Thankfully Robin senses when I’m strung out and he let me take a long lunch. How was your day?”

Wesley grinned at her and pushed at her to sit up. She sat up, “massage?”

“I think you need it. Am I right?”

She nodded and closed her eyes as Wesley’s hands began their magic. “Does your extra tension have anything to do with seeing Spike last night?”

Buffy froze and moved away from him. She turned so she was looking at him. “No. What makes you say that?”

He gave her a look, “Buffy, come on. Be honest with me. You had a relationship with the man. You were going to have his child. You can’t tell me that seeing him didn’t make you feel something.”

“Yeah, it made me disgusted with myself.”

“Disgusted? Why?”

“Because it made me remember how young and stupid I was,” she stood up and started for the kitchen. “Were you making dinner or do you want me to?”

Wesley followed her. “Buffy, if you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

“You know I’m really tired of people wanting to talk and not listening when I say I DON’T WANT TO!” Buffy shouted at him.
Wesley was taken back and Buffy felt guilt. It wasn’t his fault she was so messed up. She came around to him and put her arms around him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Forgive me?”

“I won’t push you if you don’t want to talk. I just. . . you were very quiet when we came home last night. Buffy, after everything you’ve told me about you and Spike and your past, I can’t conceive that you can see him for the first time after ten years and have that history with him and not feel anything. I don’t want it to be something that festers inside you until you explode.”

“Now you sound like my psychologist.”

“Well, I can’t help that. I love you Buffy. You know that right?”

She looked up at him, “I do know. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for loving you Buffy. That was just simply unavoidable.”

“No, I mean thank you for being here, for putting up with me when I’m acting like a raving lunatic.”

Wesley pressed a kiss to her lips and pushed some hair away from her face. “Let me take you out for dinner. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”


“How has your week been Buffy?” Dr. Tara McClay, Buffy’s psychologist, asked the following day, beginning their weekly therapy session.

Buffy sighed heavily. “Not good.”

“What happened?”

“I ran into Spike this week.”

Tara’s eyes widened. “Spike? THE Spike?”

Buffy nodded, “the one and only. Thank God.”

“What happened? Did he come to see you?”

“No, it seems that he’s moved to L.A. and happened to have
stumbled into the bar that we were playing at.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah, I did. Unfortunately,” she frowned, looking away.

“Why unfortunately? Haven’t you wanted to know how’s he’s been?”

“Wondering is one thing, having it right in your face when you least expect it is quite another. I didn’t have time to prepare.”

Tara gave her a sympathetic smile, “you can’t prepare for running into an old friend like that Buffy.”

“Old friend?” Buffy let out a short laugh. “That’s funny. ‘Friend’ is not exactly what I’d use to describe Spike.”

“Then what word would you use?”

“Depends on which Buffy you’re talking to.”

“For fun, let’s try the sixteen year old Buffy.”

“He was my world. My love, my life. Everything to me. I fell in love with at first sight, but you know all that.”

“Tell me again,” Tara encouraged.

“He was the bad ass senior, and I was the lowly sophomore. He was the cool British transfer that everyone wanted to know. I was such a little mouse then. I didn’t ever think for myself, I let others control me and dictate my every move. I didn’t trust myself enough to make decisions or make the right choices. Not until I met Spike anyway. He FORCED me to make my own decisions and make my own choices even if I ended up falling flat on my face while doing it. He always said that there was no such thing as a wrong choice because every choice you make builds you as the person you are and prepares you for the next step you have to make. God, I sucked it up. I started to defy my parents and let me tell you that was a bold move in the Summers household.”
“Because your mother and father were very controlling of you.”

“I couldn’t make a move without them telling me what I was doing wrong.”

“And Spike gave you courage.”

Buffy nodded, “he did. It felt like he woke me up from this slumber I was in. Made me see things differently and it was like a drug. How could I have not fallen for him?”

Tara smiled warmly. “And then?”

“Then my parents ordered me to stop seeing him. Said they’d transfer me if I continued to see him. I listened and I told Spike what they said and he told me that he wouldn’t hear of it. That he loved me and I loved him and we were going to be together and that’s all there was to it.”

Tara handed Buffy the tissue box as Buffy continued, “so we saw each other at school and I came up with shoddy excuses to see him after that. A sleepover here, study night there. Movies. . . you know anything.
He was my first everything.” Buffy stopped and wiped her tears away. She took a deep breath. “The first time we had sex was when. . . when I got pregnant. When I told Spike about it, he was shocked at first and then so happy. He wasn’t as scared as I was because he had it all planned. He’d graduate in May and go to Sunnydale University all the while finding me the best tutor so that when I gave birth to our child, I could still finish high school. From there, we’d both apply for university in England. We’d move there, get married and find an old sweet apartment to raise our child and hire a nanny to take care of our baby while we went to class. He made it sound so real and so doable that I fully believed that it was going to happen. I could practically TASTE it. You know when you want something SO BAD you can SEE it, you can FEEL it? That’s how I felt. I could see our apartment that he described, I could see everything.
The night that we made these plans was the last time I saw him. It was drizzling outside and it was dark and cold. I had on this huge jacket and a knit hat. Spike drove me to the end of my road and he promised that the next day was when we’d confront our parents and not to worry and to make sure I got sleep because it was going to get a little bumpy. I woke up in the middle of the night having the worst cramps I’d ever had and the bed was full of blood.
My mother freaked out, my dad stayed calm. She was yelling and all I could think of was my poor baby and Spike and how I needed him. I managed to call him just before the ambulance came. Everything was a blur after that.
All I remember was that I needed Spike. I needed him to hold me and tell me that our dreams were still going to come true and that we’d still be together. I needed to know that he still loved me even though I’d lost our baby.
Instead, my mother came to tell me that if I saw him again, she’d get him arrested for ‘raping’ me. Even though I wanted him, even though it was consensual. She transferred me out of Sunnydale High faster than I could blink and Spike and his father went back to England.
Now he wants to talk. I saw him yesterday morning on my way to work and he wants to talk to me about everything. He thinks we have a second chance to make it right again. To heal and close the chapter so that we can move on. I told him no. God, I’m a fucking high school counselor trying to help kids from making these kind of mistakes every day and I can’t even help myself.”

Tara came over and held her patient—and her friend—as she sobbed out her memories. “Buffy, I can understand how this pains you and how hard it was for you to have to deal with all that. But Buffy, Spike’s right. You have a second chance here to put all that behind you so that it doesn’t eat at you any longer. When you came to see me you talked to me about breaking free from old patterns and making amends with your past. You wanted closure from it. Now you have a chance to do it, he was standing right in front of you and wanted to talk. Why wouldn’t you want to talk to him and get that closure?”


Buffy left her session that day feeling emotionally drained and not wanting to be in the presence of anyone. Even though she hardly ever drank, she was seriously contemplating it now. And Tara wondered why she didn’t want to talk to Spike. Just talking ABOUT him caused memories and feelings to resurface that she just wanted to bury. WithOUT his help.
In the end Buffy decided to stop and get one drink. Just a nice wine to calm her nerves. She found a nice little bar at the end of Tara’s office and wandered in. Sitting down in the corner, she ordered a glass of red wine and she pulled out the notebook she always carried with her in the hopes of writing some lyrics. She was working busily when a dark shadow loomed over her.

“Hey pet.”

Her head snapped up and in one flash of his calling her ‘pet’, she saw the bad boy all in black smirking down at her as she sat on the grass outside of Sunnydale High reading a book.

“Don’t call me that,” she reprimanded him firmly.

He faltered a bit and then sat down. “What are you doing?”

“Writing. What are you doing? You just seem to be popping up everywhere I go.”

“Don’t you think that’s a sign?”

“That you should move back to Seattle? Yes.”

He shook his head, a grin playing on his handsome face. “No, that maybe we need to talk. That maybe the universe is saying we HAVE to talk.”

Buffy closed her eyes and let her head loll back onto the booth. She looked back at him to find him watching her intently.

“Ok, fine. We’ll talk. I really can’t do it right now though okay? I’ve had a long day and I’m wiped.”

“You okay luv?”

“Don’t call me that either. I’m fine. I don’t need your concern.”

“Old habits die hard.”

“Get over it,” she snapped and then instantly regretted it. Tara would slap her hands as if she were a child if she heard her now. This was not constructive at all. And what place did she have to tell Spike to get over anything? She was just as bad.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I understand Buffy. Can I call you Buffy?”

She shot him a withering glare and he shrugged.
“How about tomorrow night? The park a couple blocks over? Can you meet me there say around five?” She finally suggested on a weary sigh.

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go home and find my back massager.”

“Back Massager?”

“Wesley,” she told him absently and gathered her things.

“You happy with him Buffy?” Spike asked softly.

She looked up at him, nodded. “I am. He’s. . . stable and kind and he knows everything there is to know and he’s still there.”

“Do you love him?”

“Did he give you the ‘I’m her boyfriend’ speech the other
night?” She smiled at the thought.

“He did, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Oh, I see. You’re asking so you can put your mind at rest that I found a nice man to love me. Well, consider your mind put to rest then. I have. Night Spike.”

Sliding out of the booth, she didn’t hear the faint “night Buffy.”

Chapter Four

Spike was taking his time walking to the park to see Buffy. He was trying to build up his courage, make his nerves cast iron, keep his emotions guarded and in check. All of which probably wasn't conducive to healing their wounds, but would keep himself in check when it came to talking with her. Everytime he saw her, he wanted to hug her, hold onto her and sob out his misery at losing her, losing their baby, losing so much of their lives. He looked up at the sky, saying a silent prayer for strength when he heard her voice. She was singing. And, was she playing the guitar. A broad smile spread across his face as he moved closer to the sound of her sweet voice.


Heaven bent to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight

Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear

Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
The past could be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That I held so dear.

I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn I'm lost to those I thought were friends
To everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarrassed
Pretend that they don't see
But it's one missed step
You'll slip before you know it
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed

Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

His smile faded the more he listened. So, she felt she messed up? How? By loving him? By conceiving with him?

She felt lost, that much was certain, she felt guilt and remorse--but did she feel remorse for the right things? Did she really believe she deserved what happened?

He stood before her as she strummed the last of the song, her eyes closed, caught up in the torment of her song.

"Buffy," he said gently, his voice husky.
Her eyes popped open. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," she told him, putting her guitar in its case.

"You shouldn't be doing that with your eyes closed."

"I was passing the time by working on stuff."

"Am I late?"

"No, not at all. I got here early so I could do that."

"When did you write it Buffy?"

"Last night."

"Before you saw me?"

She nodded slowly and sat back, waiting for him to continue.

"Do you expect me to say ‘I told you so?'"

She tossed him a wry grin, "that would by my parents. My
mother, specifically."

"Told you so about what?"

"Getting involved with you."

That hurt. "That what she said when. . .?"

"Yeah," Buffy said quietly, looking at the ground. "I think she
convinced me."

"So you blame me for it all?" His voice was rising and he
was trying to keep it as neutral as he could. It was
impossible.

"No, I don't. I blame me. But, when that becomes too much to
carry around it's easier to blame you. It's always easier to
blame someone else than to take responsibility for your own
actions."

"What did you do that was so wrong?"

"Depends on who you ask. According to my parents it
happened because I defied them, I got caught up in the
wrong boy, I had sex before I was ready, I was a liar. . . the
list goes on and on. Make a tape of all those and play it every day and it's funny because even though you know those things aren't entirely true—that it's just one skewed version
of what happened—you start to believe them when you're told them long enough. Especially when you try to find the reasons why your dreams popped like a balloon and your baby was taken from you and the boyfriend you swore you were going to spend the rest of your life with is suddenly gone. It's amazing what your mind will make you believe when you desperately need to cling to some kind of WHY."

"My father wouldn't talk to me about it. He ignored it as if it never happened. How he managed to do that, I'll never know. It wasn't just my life that was uprooted, his was too. He was happy in Sunnydale, he was away from the doom and gloom of London until his son. . ."

"Got caught up with the wrong girl?" Buffy supplied ironically.

Spike stared her down, "I never thought you were the wrong girl, Buffy."

"What did you think then?"

"I thought that it was unfair and I, like you, tried to find the
reasons why. It wasn't like I could tell anyone about it. I was
told to keep my mouth shut when we arrived back in London. My father didn't want anyone to know why we'd failed in the States. Which was just his way of saying that I'D failed. I failed him, I failed you—"

"You didn't fail me, Spike." She shook her head, "there was nothing you could have done."

"I'm so angry that we never got to see each other, that we were kept from each other. I NEEDED you Buffy. I NEEDED you to understand what was going on and why." He fell silent for a long while. "It wasn't just your dreams that were lost."

"I hate this, I hate it!" Buffy burst out passionately, tears streaming down her face. "I hate how raw everything feels. I hate feeling it all over again."

"We need this Buffy. I cannot keep carrying it around with me any longer. I can't keep needing to talk to you and you not be there."

"I'm not here to assuage your pain Spike. I have my own."

"And I want to help you with yours."

"What is this, the 12 step program? I have a therapist thank you, I don't need you to swoop in and have a chat here and there about the good and bad old days and then one day—poof—it's all better."

"How do you know? Has anything else worked for you? Does Wesley make it better? How's therapy working for you?"

"How's therapy?" She laughed bitterly. "What do you think?"

"Is it me? Is it because of me that you're there?"

"Not all of it. In case you hadn't noticed Spike, I don't exactly have the world's greatest parents nor did I have the best childhood."

Spike grimaced, "that why you're here? Run away did you?"

"Huh. Run away is exactly what I did. Got tired of it. Tired of the whole thing. So, see? You left a part of you with me. My rebellious side finally won out and I left as soon as I was eighteen. I got in my bug with my bag in the back seat and a wad of money in my purse and I took off."

Spike smiled, "that's my girl."

"Not your girl," she told him pointedly.

Spike ignored the comment. "And the singing?"

"I wrote a lot after. . ."

"Maybe it would help if we named it instead of just alluding to it."

"I wrote a lot after I lost the baby. It was my way of coping when I was being made to feel like a failure—something else we have in common I guess—by my parents. Writing about it seemed the only outlet until I could seek a therapist on my own without my parents wondering what was possibly bothering me that I couldn't talk to them about." She rolled her eyes and Spike let out a chuckle at her sarcasm.

Buffy shook her head and let out a little chuckle of her own.

"Could it be possible that Buffy Summers just laughed?" Spike teased her.

She stuck out her tongue. "Shut up. I laugh. Just not when you're around," and she let out a squeal of laughter at that.

Spike's smile was so wide, he could feel the muscles stretching. It felt good. Foreign almost. "Not true. I seem to remember you laughing quite a lot. What about the time we went to the beach and I only put sunblock on one side of my leg? I was half red and half white. You never let me live that down."

Buffy started to laugh at the memory. "Remember the water fight we had at Xander's when his parents were away? I think the whole block was involved," her shoulders were shaking from the memory.

"I remember tossing you into the shower fully clothed," Spike laughed at the memory of Buffy soaking wet in her clothes, screeching at him in the shower. Then he remembered her wearing his T shirt that was so long on her it was like a dress. He loved getting it back after. Buffy was everywhere on him.

He looked back at her and found she was lost in some kind of memory as well. "What are you thinking about pet?"

She looked at her watch, "that I need to get home. Wesley worries."

"Does he have reason to?"

Buffy shrugged, "depends on the day. See ya ‘round, Spike."

She stood, slinging her guitar over her shoulder.

"Buffy, wait." Spike sprang up and grabbed her arm, stopping her.

She looked down at the arm stopping her and then up at him. "Yeah?"

He dropped his hand, shoving both in his pockets. "Can I see you again? I'd like to talk more. Can we?"

Buffy smiled faintly. "Sure. We're having a party Friday night at my house. Just a little get together of sorts. Why don't you come by? Do you have a phone number I can reach you at?"

"Yeah, here, let me give it to you," Spike said quickly and reached into his back pocket, taking out a small notepad and a pen. Buffy raised her eyebrows. "I'm a writer, I take notes."

She nodded and took the offered paper, tucking it in her purse that was slung over her shoulder. "Good night Spike."

"Night Buffy." He wanted to hug her and thank her for seeing him, for not shutting him out. They'd had a nice talk and it really felt as if they'd made steps. They had a long way to go, but Spike had a feeling they were finally on the right track.

TBC...

Chapter Five

"You what?"

Looking at Wes now with his eyebrows furrowed and the way he said ‘what' as if he couldn't believe what she'd just said, Buffy had a feeling inviting Spike to their party was the wrong thing to do. She opened her mouth to speak, but Wes continued on.

"And you went to meet him? Without telling me?"

"It was a spur of the moment thing. I didn't even want to do it and I didn't want—you know what, I don't know why I didn't tell you, I just didn't. I'm telling you now though, doesn't that count for something?"

"I don't know. Tell me, if a wife tells her husband after her affair, does that count for something?" And he stalked off, leaving Buffy open mouthed.

She jumped up and went after him a second later. "Wesley!" She yelled after him, finally managing to catch him in his study.

He spun to her, "what Buffy? What do you want to tell me now? Or not tell me as the case may be?"

She pointed at him, "you're being dumb."

"Am I? You go to see your first love, the man you have incredible history with, the one you planned to spend the rest of your life with, the one you conceived a child with and you don't tell me until AFTER you invite him into OUR home for a party with OUR friends?"

Buffy stopped, dropping her hand. She bit her bottom lip. "Okay, when you put it that way. .
. " She decided to leave out the fact that Xander and Willow had been Spike's friends too once upon a time.

"Thank you!"

"I'm sorry Wesley. I am. I really am. I didn't think. I wasn't thinking."

"You forget that we're a team Buffy. I'm not saying that you have to ask my permission to go out with Xander or Willow or if you want to go shopping. I'm not saying that. I'm saying that when it comes to things like meeting Spike, who holds a hugely significant part of your life, that I'd rather prefer you tell me about it."

"So you could stop me from seeing him? He told me you played the boyfriend card when you met him," she was feeling a little defensive and it came through in her voice. Mainly because she knew he was right.

Wesley sighed and took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose and perching himself on the edge of his desk. "I wouldn't have stopped you from seeing him. I think working through your past with him is a wonderful thing to do. I wanted you to talk about it."

"To you, not to him necessarily."

He shot her a look. "All right so I wasn't exactly keen on the idea of my girlfriend talking to the man who held her heart for so long."

"That's it right there, Wesley. Held. Past tense."

Wesley looked at her helplessly, "I can't help it if I act crazy when it comes to you, Buffy. I love you and I worry about you. You've come so far from the girl I met so long ago. I just fear that his presence will stir things up for you."

"That's inevitable Wes. He already did, but you see, it's a good thing." She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself up against him in a hug that was meant to be comforting. "As much as I might fight it tooth and nail, it's a good thing."

He gave her a wry smile.

"There's so much baggage there between Spike and I, there's no way we could ever possibly pick up where we left off. We're different people now, we're not in high school, we're not naïve and stupid, we both lost a lot of that innocence and the rush of first loves. Trust me when I say it's over."

Wesley leaned forward and rested his forehead on her shoulder. "I'm usually not a jealous man. You must bring it out in me."

She smiled mischievously and brought his head up. "I wonder what else I can bring out," and she leaned in for a kiss.


FLASHBACK: Ten years before

"We'll be happy won't we?" Buffy asked Spike as they lay on the soft green grass, staring up at the clouds in the bluest sky Buffy had ever seen.

Spike turned his head to look at her, "are you kidding? Happy? We'll be so happy it'll be like everyday is a holiday."

She giggled, " you're so inventive you always find a reason to celebrate."

"And now that my girl is having my baby, I'll be celebrating everyday. Think of it Buffy. We'll go to school during the day and meet at home where we'll relieve our nanny. We'll make dinner, play with our child and send him off to bed while we spend our nights in front of a roaring fire making love."

"No studying?" She teased.

"Well, we'll squeeze that in somewhere," he grinned devilishly and rested his head on her
belly. "I wonder if I strain hard enough I can hear its heartbeat."

Buffy ruffled her fingers through his bleached locks. "I love you."

His head popped up and he grinned. "I love you too." He leaned in and kissed her and then
laid his head back down on her belly. "And when we get married, it'll be the biggest event that
England has ever seen."

Buffy smiled dreamily. "You make everything always sound so perfect."

"Because it will be Buffy. How could it not be? It's us. We're perfect for each other. Meant
to be." His head popped up to look at her again, his blue eyes sparkling in their intensity. "You're
mine, right?"

She nodded, caressing the side of his face tenderly. "I'm yours."

"And I'm yours. Forever."


END FLASHBACK


Spike shot up in bed, a cold sweat breaking over him, the words of the dream ringing in his
ears. It felt as if it'd just happened yesterday. What he felt, the intensity of it, the desire the yearning, the desperation. . . he couldn't say when the last time he had felt something like that because, well, he knew. The last time he felt anything like that was with Buffy. Sure he'd had flings since then but nothing could have compared to what he had felt for Buffy. She had captured his heart and his soul from the start and she'd held it firmly in her grasp.

He'd be lying if he didn't admit that he'd felt her pull the heart strings when he finally saw her after so long. She'd grown into a woman. A woman wise beyond her years. She had a hard edge to her than she hadn't had before. It was intriguing.

Crawling out of bed, Spike made his way to hotel's bathroom—having not found a place of his own just yet—and got himself a glass of water. He'd worked hard to make sure he wouldn't have to worry much about finances and being a vagabond if situations called for it. His situation at the moment called for it. He still wasn't sure if staying in the same city as Buffy was a good idea.

He walked to the window and pushed the curtains back, staring at the parking lot and found himself wondering what would have happened if Buffy hadn't lost the baby. Would their dreams still have come true or would something else have ripped them apart? Would her parents have had him arrested for getting her pregnant or would they have been able to come to a solution to please everyone?

They'd never know, would they? That was the saddest thing of all. Not knowing what could have happened. He knew that he would have followed Buffy to the ends of the Earth and that everything he'd said to her that day, he'd meant.

Running a hand through his springy curls, Spike wondered for the hundredth time
what the hell he was doing. Why didn't he just leave LA and leave Buffy in peace? Was he crazy for thinking they could work through this? Oh, he had had so much conviction when it came to telling her what they needed to do, but the emotions and the memories that were creeping back in. . . well, it wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected there to be some tears, some hugs, forgiveness and then they'd move on. He hadn't expected to FEEL so damn much! And then what would they do once they'd made peace with each other? Be friends? Or would they simply go their separate ways and when they passed each other on the street, they'd smile and nod as they continued on their merry way. Spike clutched his heart. He didn't like that idea. The shining, bright girl he'd been in love with was calling to him and she wouldn't settle for anything less than his heart and his soul. That girl. . . she was in the new Buffy somewhere, but did he want to risk uncovering her? Had he already started to? He shook his head.

"What the hell am I doing?"




Buffy was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling with her hand over her belly wondering when her mind would stop showing her the past long enough for her to get some sleep. She looked over at Wesley and smiled softly at his sleeping form, one arm slung across her waist as he slumbered on his stomach. He was so handsome and sweet. So good to her. They'd made themselves a good life and she was comfortable with the way things were. She had been afloat and on a steady course. Now though, she felt the boat shift just a little bit and if it kept up at this rate, would she find herself flung over the side, over her head in water? Sighing she looked back up at the ceiling. She wondered if Tara could squeeze her in this week as sort of an emergency situation. Buffy shook her head and rubbed her temples. Get a grip girl. You don't need to lean on Tara like that. You have to do this on your own. It's a party for crying out loud! Just a party.

Oh God, she needed a life jacket. NOW.

Chapter Six

Spike could hear the music from the party before he even made it to the front door. Apparently, it was an outdoor barbeque as he could hear them all outside and he could definitely smell the scent of food being grilled in the air.


He knocked on the door, wondering if he should have done that or just gone through the house and outside when the door flung open and a flushed Buffy answered the door. She was glowing and Spike had a flash of her in high school when she seemed to glow every time he came round.

"Hi!" She said brightly, wiping her hands on the apron he noticed she was wearing. "Come on in. I was just helping
Xander out by making burgers. He's manning the grill." She stepped aside to let him in.

He pointed to the case of beer under his arm. "I brought beer."


"I see that," she giggled and he smiled in response.
"Come on. Xander and Willow are DYING to talk to you."

"They don't hate me?" Spike asked, a trace of doubt and fear
in his voice.

"No. They're. . . curious. Besides, I've talked to them. It's
good."

Leading him into the kitchen, she took the beer and set it in
the fridge after arranging some things around. "Go on
outside," she encouraged, her head still in the fridge.

"You mind if I stay in here for a bit?" He asked.

She shut the fridge. "Only if you help me with the burgers."
She pointed to the cutting board which had a heap of raw
meat and next to it was a platter of rounded patties, ready to
go.

"Sure," he shrugged and started washing his hands in the
sink.

"Need to work up the courage to go out there?" She asked
slyly as she began working on the meat.

He grinned sheepishly, "yeah. You know how hard it was to
talk to you the night I saw you?"

She smiled. "Not like the first time you talked to me back then
huh?"

He chuckled at the memory of how courageous he'd been
back then. "Not at all. I saw you, I went after you. That was
pretty much all I knew."

"I always envied that about you. I think that's what first drew
me to you."

He cocked his head to the side as he observed her. "Really?"

She nodded. "You were the bravest person I knew. You
made me feel as if I could do anything, be anything, go
anywhere."

"You can," he told her gently.

She shrugged. "It's something I've never really come to terms
with I guess. My power. I'm still wielding it. Haven't used it
yet."

"You used it to get here, didn't you?"

"That wasn't bravery. That was. . . necessity. I had to get
away from my parents because. . . well, you remember."

"I know how it feels to need to escape," he murmured as he
placed a patty on the platter.

"How often do you escape?" She asked, placing a patty
down and starting on the next one.

"As often as I can," he let out a short laugh. "No, I just go
when it's time. When I feel I've worn a place out or if I don't
feel as if I fit."

Now she cocked her head to the side. "You haven't found
home yet."

He shook his head, "no, I haven't."

"You will one day."

He didn't say anything to that.

"So, who is the bravest person you know now?" Spike
asked after all the patties were made and Buffy was ready
to take it outside.

"Wesley," she said without thinking.

"Why?"

She grinned. "He's with me. That takes some big balls."

He laughed, ignoring the spark of jealousy at feeling
replaced. "Just call him scrotum?"

Buffy laughed heartily. "Something like that. Come on."

Spike allowed her to lead him outside and he took in the
scene of Xander manning the grill with Wesley standing next
to him, a drink in his hand. Willow stood by the table talking to
a short, orange haired fellow and some bird Spike didn't
recognize with blond hair was munching on a carrot stick
while talking to a brunette that he didn't recognize either.

Willow stopped talking, broke into a huge smile and started
for him. Planting herself in front of him, she threw her arms
around him in a friendly hug. "Hey there, stranger," she
greeted him warmly. Spike closed his eyes as he welcomed
her hug. It had been too long since he remembered what it
was like to actually have friends that cared about him. Willow
had always been one of his favorites, aside from Buffy of
course. She had always fought on their side and for that
Spike was indebted to her.

"How've you been?" She asked, pulling back and taking him
in.


"I've been good. How are you?"

"Good. Come here, I'd like for you to meet my boyfriend."

"Someone was lucky enough to capture Willow Rosenberg's
heart?" Spike asked. "I must meet the special guy."

Willow laughed lightly and led him to the orange haired fellow
she'd been talking to when he came outside. "Spike this is Oz
my boyfriend. Oz this is Spike."

Oz nodded to him, a smile tugging at the corners of his
mouth. "Hey. Nice to meet you."

"You too. You're in the band aren't you?" Spike asked,
pointing at him.

"That I am, my man. Guitar. You like?"

"I do. Great sound you guys have."

"Thanks. We try."

Spike chuckled at the short, noncommittal sentences of Oz.
Anyone else and he would have felt put off, but there was
something about the guy that made Spike feel welcome and
accepted.

"Yo Reeves! You gonna help me with the barbeque today?"
Xander shouted across the yard and Spike started to laugh. It
was nice to know that some things never changed.





It was as if time hadn't passed and things had stayed the
same. The way Spike fell into his relationships with Willow
and Xander was as if they'd just seen each other the day
before. He helped Xander man the barbeque as they shot the
shit and he kept a close eye on Buffy and Wesley. She had
her arms wrapped around him and their heads were bent in
close conversation. He wondered if his presence was
causing Wesley unease. He couldn't help but feel a stab of
pleasure at that, quickly dismissing it, he decided he had to
make a point to talk to the man. He had nothing against him
really. Not as long as he treated Buffy well. He didn't want to
cause Buffy any trouble, God knew she'd had her share of
that already. No, he would talk to Wesley, perhaps befriend
the man so that he wouldn't feel as if he were trying to
invade upon his relationship with Buffy.

So when Buffy went to the kitchen to get something and
Wesley was left alone, Spike took that time to approach the
man.

"Don't worry. His bark is worse than his bite. He's got that
cold English reserve, but he's a pussycat," Xander
encouraged him.

"Thanks, man."

"I'm here in a clinch."

Spike laughed and approached Wesley who stood there,
watching him approach with a distant look in his eyes.
English reserve all right. Well, Spike knew all about that and
he could play that game too, but he wasn't going to. For
Buffy's sake.

"Hi Wesley. Thanks for letting me come."

Wesley looked him in the eye. "I didn't ‘let' you. I'm not Buffy's
keeper."

"Fair enough. Listen Wesley, I'm not here to cause problems
with you and Buffy."

"Why are you here Mr. Reeves?"

"Name's Spike. I moved here to try my hand at some of the
bigger music magazines. I'm a rock journalist."
"I see."

"Seeing Buffy was a fluke."

"I see."

Spike ran a hand through his hair. "You know, I'm trying to be
a big man right now and come over here and make nice with
the guy Buffy seems to think hung the moon. You're making it
hard for me to understand why she thinks that."

Wesley's cold demeanor softened and he shook his head. "I
apologize Mr. er, Spike. You have to understand from my
perspective. . ."

Spike nodded, "I think I can. I would feel the same way."


"Buffy tells me you've been talking about what happened.
Trying to work through it."

Spike nodded, "we have. Ten years is a long time to keep
something like that to yourself."

Wesley's eyes met his. "Buffy's spoken to me all about it. It
was something she needed to do."

"I don't doubt it. I'm glad she had you to listen."

"She'll always have me," Wesley promised.

"You've been talking to everyone here but me. I demand to know who you are," Spike turned round to see the brunette he hadn't recognized before. She was an attractive bird, long wavy brown hair, dark eyes and ruby red lips. She wore a smirk that spoke of trouble. Warning bells were going off in Spike's head but he smiled at her nonetheless. He was here to make nice with Buffy's friends—and his.

"I'm Spike."

"Name's Faith. You're British too. Are you taken?"

Spike nearly choked on her forwardness. "Uh, no."

Faith's smirk widened as she looked him up and
down. "Good thing."

"I see you've met Faith," Buffy said dryly as she finally made
it back outside. "Faith is a friend of Anya and Xander's. Has
Xander had a chance to introduce you to Anya yet?"

"Nope."

"Allow me," and Buffy led Spike away from Faith. Spike
tossed the girl a smile and followed Buffy wondering if it was
his imagination or did Buffy seem to not want Faith near him?
He shook his head. It had to be him.

TBC....

Thanks guys for the reviews! Please keep them coming, makes me write faster!


Chapter Six (B)

"What's up Buffy?" Willow asked as she entered the kitchen to see Buffy staring out the kitchen window. Walking over, she peered over her friends shoulder to see what she was watching so intently.

"Do you think Spike likes Faith?" Buffy asked, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully. "I mean, he's acting like he likes her. But I'm just curious as to how MUCH he likes her."

Willow studied the pair. "I don't know. I mean, he's smiling, which indicates that he might like her, but he could just be being polite. You know like when he met Anya and didn't even blink when she said ‘so you're the one that got Buffy knocked up.' I was ready to deck her, but he just took it all in stride."

Buffy laughed and then groaned.

"I know Faith isn't your favorite person—"

"Gee, can't imagine why. She's not even MY friend but she insinuates herself in MY life any way she can and tries to take over everything. Remember how she hit on Wesley?"

"Yeah, but remember how well he handled it?"

Buffy grinned, "he did do well didn't he? He just simply told her that she was acting like a cat in heat. I suspect no male has ever turned her down like that before."

"You think Spike will?"

Buffy sighed. "I don't know. Once upon a time, he used to be an open book. Now he's a mystery to me."

"Would you be jealous if he liked Faith?" Willow asked lightly.

Buffy turned to Willow and blinked. "Jealous? Me? Jealous if he wanted to. . . jealous? Please. No, I would worry about him being able to handle her that's all. Besides I have Wes."

"Just checking," Willow said as she popped cheese cube in her mouth. Buffy turned back to her.

"Well, now you know."

"Know what?" Spike.

"You have a knack for just popping up don't ya?" Buffy teased him.

He chuckled, "what are you girls doing in here? Gossiping?"

"I came for the cheese and now I shall depart," Willow said extravagantly and waltzed out the door.

Buffy giggled and started for the fridge to take out the chilled desserts.

"Need some help?"

"Hiding again?"

Spike grinned and shrugged. "Haven't really had much of a chance to talk with you today."

"Well, you've been busy catching up with your other friends."

"Are we Buffy?"

"Are we what?"

"Friends."

Sucking on her bottom lip thoughtfully, she finally answered with a nod. "I think so. What do you think?"

"I'd like that. After what we've been through, we deserve that don't you think?"

She nodded as she placed the Boston Cream Pie on the counter and shook the can of
whipped cream. "You and Faith seem to be getting on well," she attempted conversationally.

Spike scratched his head, "yeah, she's an uh, interesting bird."

"Really? You'd use interesting to describe her?"

Spike laughed as he watched Buffy coat the top of the pie. "What word would you use to
describe her?"

"I can't just use one word when it comes to Faith," Buffy told him as she tilted her head back
and sprayed the cream in her open mouth.

"Hey! You have to share that!" Spike told her and reached for the can. Giggling, she handed
it to him and watched as he mimicked her actions. He grinned at her and they both reached out
simultaneously to wipe residual cream off one another's noses. Their hands brushed and Buffy
jumped when Spike took hold her of her hand and looked at her, earnest and intense.

"What?" She whispered.

"I just have to thank you. For this. I didn't realize how much I missed until today. Any
friends I had. . . they were nothing like this."

"You're welcome," she told him softly, pulling her hand away from his grip. The contact was
making her feel all sorts of funny and it wasn't settling well with her.

"I talked to Wes."

"Oh?"

"He's protective of you."

"Wouldn't you be if the tables were turned?"

"Fair enough. How'd you meet?"

Buffy grabbed another two pies out of the fridge and started dressing them with cream. "I
met him at work."

"What do you do Buffy? You've never told me."

"I'm a guidance counselor for high school kids," she looked up at him, gauging his reaction.

He nodded slowly. "Fits doesn't it?"

"After everything happened, it seemed the only thing that fit. I wanted the chance to help
other kids like me. Maybe help them so they don't end up like I did." At that last comment she let
out a sarcastic snicker.

"You didn't turn out bad, Buffy," Spike said softly.

"I turned out hard, angry, bitter and untrusting with serious abandonment issues. I'm a
psychologists dream."

"What does Wes do?"

"He's a principal. He was in the process of changing schools when I met him. He kind of
took me by surprise. I didn't expect him to. . . well, anyway, that's how we met."

"No, what were you going to say?"

She shook her head and sighed. She closed her eyes momentarily and then looked at him. He
looked sincerely interested and she couldn't help but share with him. "I didn't expect him to want to
be with someone like me."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, defensive.

"All the baggage I have, all the issues I have with. . . everything. I didn't think someone as
together as Wesley would want to have anything to do with such a mess. But, he did."

"Did you tell him everything right away?"

"Pretty much. I figured if really wanted to take a chance, he deserved to know what he was
getting involved with. He was so supportive and understanding. He didn't judge me at all, he just
accepted it as part of my past and understood that it was something that I needed to work through.
He told me he would be there for me and so far, he has been."

Spike nodded, seeming to be processing what she was telling him. He rubbed the back of his
neck. "Buffy. Do you—if a girl came to you and told you that she was in love with a boy and that he
loved her too but her parents didn't approve, what would you tell her? Would you tell her to leave it
be or to stay with him?"

Buffy stared at him for a long time before answering. "Well, on one hand there is the
romantic notion of following your heart. On the other hand is the very realistic notion of doing what
is right—"

"Following your heart is wrong?"

"And abiding the consequences of doing what romance dictates," she continued, ignoring
him. "The reality of the situation is that the consequences of defying your parents when you still live
under their roof can be dire. And if the boy loves you enough to want to be with you through thick
and thin, then he'll understand and wait for you. However, if that is too much to ask of him, then
perhaps he doesn't love you as much as he says. By showing your parents that you can be adult and
follow their rules, perhaps they can be ‘worn down' and relent on their previous judgements about
the relationship."

"Thought about this much have you?" He asked, obviously annoyed.

She shot him a glare and crossed her arms. "Haven't you?" She shot back.

"So you're saying you would tell the girl to give up. To not fight for what she wants."

"And you define ‘fighting' by sneaking around?"

"Maybe she could find other ways than just lying down and taking what her parents
dictated," he said angrily, his voice starting to rise and his jaw clenching.

"Maybe her boyfriend should be more understanding of her situation and not try to pressure
her so much."

"Maybe her boyfriend just loves, needs and wants her so bloody much he can't think. Maybe
he's young too and has never been in love before and believes that where there's a will, there's a
way."

Buffy was trembling from his passionate outburst. She found herself feeling those emotions
emanating from him and covering her in them, making her feel the love she had once felt coming
from him. She shook her head and walked away from him. "Maybe her boyfriend believes too much
in fairy tales."

"You do blame me, don't you?" He whispered, looking down.

"No, not completely. I was there too. I blame a lot on me."

"Which part?"

"If I wasn't letting myself be led by my parents, then I was being led by you. I was living that
fairy tale that you built for us. I wasn't living in reality. I was so over come by the fact that you,
William ‘Spike' Reeves, the badass with the heart of gold—loved me. Plain Buffy Anne Summers.
You could have had any girl, but you wanted ME. I was naïve, dumb and hormonal. I wasn't thinking clearly and I let you do the thinking for me because you seemed to have all the answers. I never fully realized that you didn't though. I had my doubts, but I let you convince me because I wanted to be convinced.
I'm not a teenager anymore Spike. I see things differently now. My heads aren't so much in the clouds. And if it does get in the clouds just a little bit, well, my feet are planted firmly on the ground.
So, I would tell that girl to stick it out best she could. I would tell her that sneaking around would only be asking for more trouble than she would get into if she gave it some time and found a way to convince her parents that they guy she's in love with isn't so bad. And, if the guy is worth his salt, he'll wait for her and support her."

"Did you think I would have abandoned you, Buffy?"

Tears pricked her eyes and she took a deep breath and straightened her gait, willing her tears away. "I was afraid you'd leave me, that you'd get bored and move on."

He shook his head sadly, "I wouldn't have left you Buffy. I wouldn't have left you at all. If you had asked me to wait, I would have. I would have done anything for you. Why didn't you GET that?"

"I told you I had low self-esteem."

"And I'm being punished for that," he said matter-of-factly.

She shook her head, "Spike." She sighed heavily. "You wanted truths, didn't you? In order for this—whatever it is—to work, then I'm not going to lie to you. I don't expect you to lie to me either."

"Then let me be honest with you and tell you that the only reason why you don't believe in fairy tales and happy endings is because you're afraid to trust yourself."

"That's the whole essence of low self-esteem Spike," she said through gritted teeth.

"And who better to nurture those beliefs than Mr. Logical Full of Cold Reserve, Wesley Wyndam Pryce," Spike shot back.

"You don't know ANYTHING about Wesley. NOTHING! Just like you don't know anything about me. Not anymore."

They glared at each other.

"I think you should leave now," Buffy told him levelly, her jaw set, her eyes cold.

Spike held up his hands in surrender and shook his head. He let out a humorless snort. "I think you're right."

Thank you everyone for your reviews and support of this story!! I realize that I kind of made Wesley out to be the bad guy, which I didn't want to do because he's really not. I know that makes it harder for Spuffy, but don't worry!! Just what I envision for Wesley is for him not to be the bad guyYou'll see. Don't worry, this is Spuffy.

Chapter Seven

Buffy stared at the empty space that Spike had been occupying just a second before in complete shock, utter disbelief and anger so intense she was shaking.

"Buffy? I heard shouting. Is everything—where's Spike?" It
was Wesley.

All it took was one look at Wesley's concerned expression
and she was reaffirmed of the fact that Spike had no clue
what he was talking about and he quite possibly could be—
dare she even think it—jealous.

"He left," she said simply.

"I'm guessing by the shouting I heard it wasn't on good
terms."

She shook her head.

"What happened?"

"He didn't like what I had to say."

Wesley frowned a little and rubbed an imaginary beard. "I'm
guessing from the past that you two share and the amount of
time spent apart without being able to communicate,
whatever you two do have to say to each other isn't all
pleasant."

Buffy blinked. "You're absolutely right. Could you go tell him
that?" She pointed to the door.

Wesley smiled softly, "I don't think he wants to hear from
me." He looked at her sheepishly, "I wasn't very uh, very
welcoming."

Buffy nodded, giving him an understanding smile. "I know."

"I will try. For you."

"You might not have to. I don't know that we'll be seeing
each other again."

"Did you ask him to leave or did he leave of his own accord?"

"I asked him to leave."

"Oh. That bad?"

Buffy sighed. "I. . . I just don't know Wes."

"Need a hug?"

She nodded, pouting. He opened his arms to her and met her
halfway. She stepped into his very welcoming and warm—
not cold—arms and snuggled into him, burying her face in his
chest.

"Buffy, you know that I love you and that any reservations I
had about Spike only has to do with the fact that he was
your first love and you have such history with him with all
that happened between you. Now, I know how you feel
about most of it, what you'll share with me anyway because
you're not exactly an open book. I realize that I probably
haven't been exactly the most supportive when it comes to
you and Spike talking, but again, that's my own fear and
jealousy of losing you—"

Buffy's head popped up and she gazed at him, "you won't
lose me."

Wes smiled gently. "Thank you." He cleared his throat. "Be
that as it may, I do realize that in order for you to be able to
come to terms with what happened to you in the past with
Spike, you do need Spike in order for you to do that. Now, if
the argument you had here has ended that healing process
for you, and you feel you can move on and put an end to that
chapter, then good for you. However, if you feel that it's not
enough, I must tell you—against what my jealousy dictates—
that maybe you should make amends and try to work through
this setback. It's been my experience with issues of the past
that oftentimes things are said that are not meant and are
meant only to hurt because the other person is hurting as
well."

"How did you become so wise?" She asked quietly, resting
her head against him once more.

"You've taught me many things, Buffy."

"Do you think it's wrong of me to not believe in fairy tales the
way I used to?" She asked in a tiny voice.

"Is that what he said?"

For some reason Buffy didn't want Wesley to know all that
Spike had said. "In so many words," she shrugged.

"Fairy tales as in happy endings?"

She nodded.

"Well," he sighed heavily. "It all depends. If you don't believe
that you are capable of having a happy ending, then yes, I do
believe it's wrong."

She looked up at him. "Why?"

He smiled faintly at her and tucked a stray hair behind her
ear. "Because, my darling, you are meant for a happy ending.
I won't let you not have one."

She smiled up at him. "You're so good to me."

"Living one's life in the clouds and being dictated by fairy
tales without using any reason at all? I don't think that's a bad
thing to not want to live by. You can't make decisions on
feeling alone. Somewhere, reason has to come into play."

"I totally agree."

"Do you want me to send everyone home?"

Buffy giggled. "No. I'll come back out. Thank you."

"For?"

"Just being you."





Spike had been so angry with Buffy, he was sure that he
wasn't going to see her again. That he was just going to walk
away and leave L.A., find some place else to go. But when
he had started packing his bags and felt tears start to drop
from his eyes, he realized that it wasn't the answer. Things
weren't over for them; far from it.

He sat down on his hotel bed and put his face in his hands.
She was right, that's what irked him the most. On the other
hand though, so was he. Both of them were looking for
answers and for someone to blame things on. He hadn't
realized that he'd been doing it until Buffy had expressed
what she blamed him for. Hadn't he just blamed her for being
too afraid of her parents? Hadn't he blamed her for not being
strong enough to stick up for him? For possibly not loving him
enough to fight for him?

Sighing, Spike lay back on the bed, listening to it creak as he
stared up at the yellowed ceiling. How was he any better? She had found a place to fit, she had escaped her tyrannical
parents and found herself a good man that obviously cared a great deal for her. He wasn't the cold at all. If he were, he
wouldn't have been so protective of Buffy. She was seeing
a therapist for Christ's sake. She was trying to make peace
with her past and with herself to be able to lead a happy,
normal life. And what did he do? He just shit on all of that.
Why? Because she'd been honest about her feelings. Hell,
that wasn't being afraid; that took guts. The old Buffy
Summers wouldn't have ever been honest with him, she just
went along with what he said and followed him blindly, all the
while believing that he had all the answers. It was what he
had led her to believe, because he knew how devoted she
was to him and how she looked to him to lead her. If he was
honest, with himself and with her, that power she gave him
was like a drug and he didn't want to admit that he'd been
wrong too. He wasn't going to let this end yet. He couldn't.



Spike breezed into the club, praying he hadn't missed Buffy. He'd stayed away from her for a week, giving them both time and space. He figured it was time to get his act somewhat together and found himself a job, finally. It was a step in the
right direction until he had a firm handle on what he wanted
to do. He knew he couldn't leave Buffy just yet, not until
they'd made peace

The unmistakable sound of the band playing inside let him
know that he hadn't missed her yet. He braced himself for the
words that would spew forth from her music. She had quite
a way with her words. She left herself open and bare with
her lyrics and it intrigued him as well as frightened him.

Setting himself in a corner where she couldn't see him just
yet, Spike waited, wondering what nuggets she would leave
for him tonight in her song.


You'll rescue me right?
In the exact same way they never did
I'll be happy right?
When your healing powers kick in

You'll complete me right?
Then my life can finally begin
I'll be worthy right?
Only when you realize the gem I am

But this won't work now the way it once did
And I won't keep it up even though I would love to
Once I know who I'm not then I'll know who I am
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim

These precious illusions in my head did not let me down
When I was defenseless
And parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends

This ring will help me yet as will you knight in shining armor
This pill will help me yet as will these boys gone through like water

But this won't work as well as the way it once did
Cuz I want to decide between survival and bliss
And though I know who I'm not I still don't know who I am
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim

These precious illusions in my head did not let me down when I was a kid
And parting with them is like parting with a childhood best friend

I've spent so long firmly looking outside me
I've spent so much time living in survival mode

This won't work now the way it once did
Cuz I want to decide between survival and bliss
Now I know who I'm not
I still don't know who I am
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim

These precious illusions in my head did not let me down
When I was defenseless
And parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends


These precious illusions in my head did not let me down
When I was a kid
And parting with them is like parting with childhood best friends

Spike had to tip his hat to her. She was definitely a champion at sticking it to him. Now he just had to find a way to talk to her and apologize for being so hard on her and for obviously not completely understanding what she was trying to tell him at the barbeque.

He watched the band leave the stage and he noticed Wesley lingering at the stage door, no doubt waiting for Buffy to emerge. Taking a deep breath, Spike worked up his courage and strode over.

Wesley looked surprised to see him. He remained expressionless as Spike approached.

"Hi," Spike said quietly.

"Hi."

"Buffy back there?"

"She is. Where've you been?"

Now Spike was surprised. "Figured you'd be happy I hadn't
come around."

Wesley smiled, which confused Spike further. "The caveman
in me was happy. The part that loves Buffy wants her to find
her peace with you. I realize she needs you to do that. She
does too. As much as she hates to admit it, even to herself."

Spike nodded. "I know. I need her to do that too. Is she. . . is
she still mad at me?"

"Why don't you go back there and find out for yourself?"

Spike smiled gratefully at the man, feeling even more like a
horse's ass than before. Wes wasn't such a bad guy at all.
And really, could he blame him for being so cold in the
beginning? If it were Wes that had blown into town and
stirred up Buffy's life with all the history, wouldn't Spike feel
threatened as well? Of course he would, who was he
kidding?

Walking in the back, he spotted Xander and Oz chatting idly
as they put away their instruments. As soon as they laid
eyes on Spike, they stopped talking.

"Spike, how are ya?" Xander greeted him, giving him a faint
smile.

"Good, hey, where can I find Buffy?"

Oz pointed to a small hallway across the room. "First door on
the right."

"Thanks."

Spike nervously made his way to Buffy's door, wondering
when in the hell he had become such a chicken shit. How
was it possible that such a tiny girl like Buffy could instill such
doubt and fear in him. ‘Since she became a woman, not a tiny
girl any longer,' a voice in his head told him. Yeah, that's
when.

He knocked on the door and waited, holding his breath. The
door flung open. "I'm almost done Wes, just need to pack up
my stuff." The whirlwind that was Buffy hadn't even
bothered to look at him before she was on her way over to
the vanity and shoving things in a small bag.

"It's not Wes."

She froze and looked up in the mirror. Her mouth was slightly
open, shocked. Then she snapped it shut and narrowed her
eyes a little. "Didn't think I was going to see you again."

"Did you want to?" He asked, hope creeping into his voice a
little more than he would have liked. "You kicked me out,
remember?"

"You pissed me off," she said matter-of-factly, turning to
him.

"I know. I came to apologize. May I come in?"

She nodded, and gestured to an empty chair across the
room.

"You don't mind if I pack up while you talk do you?"

"No. But will you really be listening?"

She smiled, "yeah. I will."

"Ok."

Silence.

"You can start at any time," she told him, waiting.

"I was waiting for you to start packing."

"Will that put you at ease?"

"I think so."

"Ok," and she started moving about the room, picking up this
and that.

"Buffy, I was being ignorant when I said what I said about
Wesley."

She stopped and stared at him. "Yeah, you were."

"I guess I was trying to find some way to blame you too."

She waited, not moving, listening.

"I realize now that since we got robbed of the chance to talk
and understand what happened to us, we kind of took it in
our own hands and came up with our own reasons. You
blame me for pressuring you into a relationship that was
forbidden by your parents. I blame you for not standing up to
them."

"I in turn blame myself for not standing up to you either."

"Right. I guess I was looking for the old Buffy that always
looked to me to have all the answers and to always be right. I
couldn't admit that I might have been wrong. I did pressure
you to sneak around when I knew you weren't comfortable
with it."

"You miss the fact that I wanted to be with you just as much,
Spike."

"Because you didn't really believe I loved you enough to stay
with you no matter what."

She nodded, sitting down on the chair across the room from
him. A great distance loomed between them.

"And instead of trying to understand where you were
coming from, I flung accusations at you and about Wes. What
you sang about. . . that last song. I get it now. It's not that you
don't believe in fairy tales Buffy, it's that you are trying to
believe in yourself."

She looked down. "It's a process. I haven't perfected it yet."

"No, you haven't, but Buffy. . . you're right in that you're not
the same girl you used to be. I think I was still looking for her
and was disappointed when I couldn't find her anymore. All
this time I was thinking you'd given up, but you haven't. You
ARE fighting. You're fighting for a happy ending for yourself
without having to rely on childhood dreams of a knight in
shining armor. All that you've done—leaving home, getting
help, starting a new life for yourself—Buffy, you've come
farther than you realize. Farther than I gave you credit for.
You. . . you're a strong woman now Buffy."

She let out a short laugh, slightly bitter and he saw tears
shining in her eyes. "Sometimes I don't feel very strong."

"How so?"

"The fact that I'd like nothing more than to be done with you."

He didn't even try to disguise his hurt at that statement.

She rushed to explain though. "I mean that I'd like to say that
I'm strong enough to just put the past behind me and move on
and say that I don't need you to help me do that. But I do."

"I can understand that," he murmured.

"And you weren't entirely wrong. I believe happy endings
can happen, just not for me."

Spike felt his heart break at that statement and he moved so
that he was kneeling in front of her. He took her hands in his
and gazed up at her intently. "Buffy, don't say that. You can
have a happy ending. You can. Don't you see that you
already do? Wesley adores you—"

"But I don't have our baby," she sobbed. "What was so
wrong with me that I couldn't keep it?"

Now Spike wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
The strong stoic woman he'd witnessed her to be over the
past couple weeks was crying and it broke his heart to see it
now as it had when they were teenagers.

"Nothing is wrong with you Buffy, nothing. Have you ever
seen a doctor about being able to conceive later on?"

She nodded, "it was just ‘one of those things'. I just. . . I don't
understand how something that felt so right could have been
so wrong."

Spike pulled back. "What do you mean Buffy?"

"I mean, it felt so RIGHT to be pregnant with your baby and
just like that. . . it was taken and then I wasn't able to see you
and everything just fell apart." She was full out sobbing
now. "And I just don't believe that I'm ever meant to be happy
like that. If I am, it'll be snatched away from me. I just keep
thinking if I hadn't loved you so much, if I hadn't been so
happy, if I hadn't snuck around, if I hadn't lied to my
parents. . . I'd still have had you and our baby."

Spike was crying now too. He understood. Oh GOD did he
understand. It was what he felt all this time, all these
years. . . this was why they needed each other now. This
was what they needed to heal from.

"This was the conversation we needed to have," he
whispered, his anger starting to rise at the people who kept
them apart. "This is what we needed to do. We needed to
mourn and to cry and to be angry. . . I hate them," he
whispered passionately, "I hate them for not giving us that."

"I'm tired of hating and being in pain and carrying this around.
I'm tired, I'm just so tired. Damn you for coming back in my life
and making me face these demons."

He pulled back and pushed some hair away from her face,
tenderly wiping her tears away with the pads of his
fingers. "Ditto, luv. Ditto."




TBC.....

Hey guys, sorry it took so long for the chapter. Holidays were hectic, plus this story is demanding on my brain lol. It can be emotionally draining to write this at times, and I'm determined to give you the very best I can.

With that said, please review!!!! :) :)

Chapter Eight

It'd been a few weeks since Spike and Buffy had cried in each others arms and took their first real step toward healing. It had been a breakthrough for them, there was no doubt about that. Both felt as if a weight had been lifted. It wasn't enough to stop what they still carried, but it certainly cleared the way for them to be more open to discussing what had happened and allowed honesty to rush forth without the fear of recriminations.

"So, you've been quite the mover and shaker, huh?" Buffy asked Spike one day as they strolled through the park. It had
become somewhat of a ritual for them to meet at least twice
a week, weather and schedule permitting, in the park for a
chat. It had also become customary for Spike to catch ‘Pangs'
at the club they performed at and to have a pint or two with
Wesley. Spike had even joined them for dinner once or twice.
Now that he'd gotten to know Wesley better, he could see
where he had been completely off the mark in his
assumptions about the man. While there was still an upper
crust reserve to him, Wesley would no doubt give someone
the shirt off his back should he deem them a good friend.
When Wesley had found the pair crying together in the club,
he'd been sympathetic and understanding, not once flying off
the handle or questioning their relationship.

Spike now glanced over at Buffy, a boyish smirk playing on
his features as he tossed her a good natured shrug. He was
downplaying his vagabond status as much as he could.

"How is it you can move so much without worrying about
work? Don't you ever worry that the one town you decide to
stay in for a while won't have work for you?" Buffy asked,
the responsible side of her kicking in. Spike reveled in it. Her
concern over him filled him with a warmth that he was finding
he was becoming addicted to. Once upon a time he'd taken
care of her, and now she was taking care of him. He couldn't
remember the last time anyone had done that.

"If they don't, I move again. Or I find some mediocre job to
tied me over for a while before I move on again."

"I admire your adventurous spirit, but I would want the
feeling of home. I'd miss coming home to a place that was all
mine, and knowing that I had people there for me."

He stopped walking and turned toward her. "The only place I
ever felt at home was in Sunnydale with you Buffy. I knew I
could never get that back the way it was, so I guess I've
been looking for that same kind of feeling again. I keep going
because. . . well, I've never found that sense of home that I
had."

She nodded slowly. "I can understand that. Though I spent
all my time there trying to get out. I'm not the vagabond sort
and once I made the decision to move here with Willow and
Xander, I guess everything else just fell into place. It was just
far enough away from. . . that place."

"That place," he chuckled lightly. "You make it sound like a
torture chamber or something."

"It was," she wrinkled her nose. "When I got released from
the hospital I was sent to a private school and I was heavily
monitered not only by my parents, but by the people at the
school. My parents had taken it upon themselves to tell my
teachers all the sordid details. I was watched like a hawk. No
boys for Buffy."


"Xander passed because you'd known him since he was
one."

"Right. Anyway, ever day was an interrogation. Did I meet
anyone? Was I keeping up with my studies? On the
weekends if I wanted to go anywhere with Willow and
Xander, it was a fight. If I wanted to go anywhere you were
held over my head like some kind of black cloud following me
around, keeping me in check, making sure I didn't slip."


Spike watched as she silently brushed away some tears at
the memory. He knew that she needed to tell him what had
happened and so he let her continue without interruption.

"Of course it was hard when you were brought up because
then it was like I was reliving it all over again. And I felt empty
inside, like a piece of me was missing and I knew it was
because a piece of me WAS missing. Now, you're talking to a
girl who'd always wanted kids. I'd always imagined the
house, the husband, the kids, the cat and the dog. And when
I was pregnant and we had all those plans, I thought my
dreams were coming true. It didn't dawn on me then how
young I was to be having a child. I just wanted it. I wanted you. Knowing that I had this life inside of me that we created
and that one day we'd be counting ten toes and ten fingers
and playing patty cake and that we'd have a baby, a HUMAN that was OURS. . . it was hard to think of our baby being gone like that. That I would never know what it looked like,
what the sex was, if it had your eyes and my hair or vice
versa. . ."

She looked up to see Spike had tears streaming down his face now as well. She let out a little whimper and flew into his arms. "Do you ever think there will be a time when we
won't end each session with us bawling our eyes out?"

Spike buried his face in her hair and let out a heavy sigh. "I
don't know, pet. The picture you painted. . . I-I wondered the
same things. I wanted the same things. I don't know what
was worse, having it be brought up all the time like you, or
having it be swept under the rug and ignored like me.

Not being able to talk about it, not being able to acknowledge
that it ever even happened and basically not being allowed to
grieve and have a support system, it made the whole thing
seem almost like a dream." He pulled back and pushed back
some of her hair. "You felt like a dream to me, like we never
happened and I so absolutely knew that we had. It felt like the
most perfect love was nothing but a figment of my
imagination and it hurt my heart to know that something that
perfect was just kept out of my reach. Over time I thought
maybe it was better to think you were a dream and that it had
never happened. My heart knew though and it never let me
forget because every time I thought about you, it ached so
much I thought it would break my chest."

Buffy nodded, "that's why I felt so broken for so long." She
stepped away from him. "Hell, who am I kidding? I still do."

"Buffy. . . "Spike began, trepidation in his voice.

"Yes?"

"I know you're with Wesley and I respect that and you don't
have to answer me this—"

"What is it?" Buffy asked, caution in her tone.

"Did you ever fully stop loving me? After all this time, after
everything. . . did we ever truly end for you?" His face was a
mask of fear and longing.

She stared at him, silent, for a long time. Finally she
answered. "The thought of you never died. It's easy to
romanticize something that you don't have access to
anymore. People who break up under normal circumstances
do it. It's easy to remember the good times and forget that the
bad times were ever there. Unfortunately for us, the bad
times were something that just couldn't be tossed aside and
forgotten.

At times I imagined what it would be like if we found each
other again. If we were given a second chance."

"And?"

"And here we are. We're different people now Spike. We're
given a second chance to mend the past, not to get back
together. I've grown up since that starry eyed teenage girl
you used to know."

Spike reached out and gently caressed the side of her face,
smiling tenderly at her. "Sometimes I still see her. A grown up
version of her."

Buffy smiled and looked away. "It's getting late. Wesley and I
have a date tonight."

Spike nodded. "Same time next week?"

"Sure."

"Buffy, you know that I wasn't trying to—"

"I know, Spike. It's human to wonder these things."

"I really do like Wesley and I meant what I said, I respect your
relationship."

"I know. I'll talk to you soon. Bye."

"Bye." Spike watched her go and clutched his heart as she
faded out of sight. He sat down, suddenly feeling winded.
The feeling of loving someone had been such a foreign
concept to him for such a long time, he had a hard time
recognizing the feeling until it burrowed right inside him.


TBC....

Chapter Nine

"Could I talk to you?"

The voice snapped Buffy slightly out of her daze and she replied without thinking "of course." She looked up to see Spike standing there, grinning.

She smiled brightly and jumped up, giving him a hug. "What
are you doing here?"

He shrugged, "wanted to see where you worked. Look at
that. An office all to yourself. And," he pointed to the gold
plated sign on her door with her name on it, "your name on
the door. Impressive."

She chuckled, "you're not impressed. You've probably had
your name on a gold plate before too."

"Here and there. Kept them too. Just to prove it."

"Have a seat," she gestured to the chair across from her
desk and she sat back down. "Aren't you working today?"

"I am." He pointed to his head, "up in here. I have a couple
stories rolling around in the noggin and I did some research
today. My brain was getting fried so I figured I'd come by and
see you. You won't get in trouble will you?"

"Oh no, not at all. Been a real slow day. End of the year and
it's nutty in here. The seniors start freaking about graduating
and going off to college."

He leaned back, "and what do you tell them?"

"That change is part of life and we all have to experience it.
And sometimes, when you think change is bad, it ends up
being really good."

"Very wise, Miss Summers."

"Thank you," she grinned.

"So, this is where you met Wesley," he said, looking around.

"Yep, the very place. Well, actually it was out in the lobby."

"So, he was leaving the school as you were coming in?"

She nodded, "he was here his last two weeks when I
started my first. We talked a lot, he was very welcoming and
kind. I thought he was a really cool guy and I was sad that he
was leaving before we had a chance to get to know each
other better. I wasn't thinking anything of the romantic nature,
just that I'd like to make a new friend here. He asked me out
the Friday he left and well, we've been together ever since."

"Were you thinking romance when he asked you out?"

She shook her head, looking shy. "No. I was just so
surprised that he asked me out."

Spike tilted his head to the side, "why?"

She shrugged, "because he seemed so put together and I
was so. . . not. I'd just moved out here and didn't think I'd find
a job at all, never mind the one I went to school for. Wesley
kind of took me under his wing and taught me the ropes. I felt
like the new girl at school, because, well, I was. Except that it
wasn't the wrath of my parents if I failed. It was the wrath of
my landlord."

"He made you feel at ease," Spike concluded.

"Right."

"How long before you decided that you wanted romance?"

She looked off, calculating in her mind. "One month."

"That all?"

"Well, I felt that we couldn't go any further in anything if he
didn't know about us."

Spike nodded, "must be weird for him to hear all this stuff
about me and then, poof, I'm here."

"It was weird for all of us," she assured him. "It's turned out
well though, hasn't it?"

He nodded and she noticed sadness in his face. He fell
silent, staring at the floor.

"What's wrong?"

Spike looked up at her and shook his head, "nothing, nothing.
How long before you moved in with him?"

"Nine months."

"Quick."

"I was with him almost every ni—have you eaten?" She
stumbled on that statement, suddenly feeling very conscious
that she shouldn't be telling Spike those kind of intimate details
about her and Wesley. It felt funny telling her former
boyfriend and father of her deceased child about her current
boyfriend and their relationship. She felt as if she were
betraying someone, the question was, she didn't know who.




Spike drove home, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He
felt sad and angry today. He wasn't sure why, but he knew it
had to do with himself, his life and most importantly his life
without Buffy.

Ever since he'd been forced to leave her all those years ago,
he felt as if all he'd done is run since then. Buffy dealt with
things by waiting leaving her dysfunctional family and settling
in to a nice life with her friends and then met a successful
and ‘put together' bloke that treated her well. She'd also
started a band with said friends and bloke and was even in
therapy seeking help for her troubled past.

What had he done? Jumped from city to city, never settling
for very long to call any place home and surely never met
anyone close to being in the same up scale class that Buffy
was in. He'd met sluts and whiny girls that clung to him like
white on rice, so uncertain of who they were that all they
could do was define themselves by ‘loving' him. And he'd left
the lot of them. He barely knew who he was, he didn't need
the complication of having someone defining themselves through him. He was never much one for self-analysis. He
only did enough to get by—mainly, to know when it was time
to move on because something just wasn't working out for
him.

Gliding his car into a half-empty parking lot, Spike stared
unseeing at the sign in front of him. Yeah, he wasn't much for self analysis, but he'd done a hell of a lot of it since being ‘reunited' with Buffy again. It was changing him. If it wasn't, he wouldn't have been driving around for the past hour pondering his life and what he wanted to do with it. It was then that he finally did see the sign in front of him. "Mitch Ferrell Realty." He nodded to himself. Yeah, it was time. Time to find a nice place and call it home.

TBC.........

Thank you for the reviews!!! More please :)

Chapter Ten

"You're doing what?" Buffy asked, in complete shock.

"I'm house hunting," Spike told her proudly as Wesley poured him another glass of wine.

"That sounds great, Spike," Wesley said approvingly and patted his back before sitting back down.

"You've decided to stay in LA? What happened to the blasé attitude about staying in one place for too long?" Buffy asked
as she took a bite of her cherry cheesecake.

"I've decided that moving around so much like that doesn't
suit me anymore," Spike told her. "I think it's time I grew up
and made a home, don't you?"

It wasn't lost on her why he was doing this. It was because
of her and all her talk of settling in. She smiled at him. "And
you like it here well enough?"

He nodded. "What's not to like? It's bright, fast paced and my
career could go in many directions here. Besides, where else
do I have a Xander, Willow and Buffy? I move anywhere else
and I'll have to start all over trying to find the same kind of
friends that I've been seriously lacking since I had to leave
Sunnydale. Why start over completely when I have all that I
need right here?"

"I don't mean to intrude, Spike, but have you enough money
to buy a home?" Wesley interjected.

Spike grinned sheepishly. "Well, yes. See my mother left me quite an inheritance when she passed and I've done quite well at saving even more over the years. You wouldn't think it, but I have. So, I'm actually in a prime position to become a home owner. Or at least mortgage my way to becoming a home owner."

"I'm so happy for you!" Buffy congratulated him.

"Don't be celebrating just yet. I haven't found the home yet. Just made the appointment to start looking."

"Still, the whole decision in itself to stay is worth
celebrating," Buffy told him and raised her glass, nudging
Wesley to do the same.

"I'll clink as long as one or both of you promises to look at
some places with me."



"Okay, I agree the first one was kind of like a bread box, but the second one wasn't bad," Buffy told Spike as they
followed the real estate agent to the next home.

"It didn't have a deck or much of a backyard," Spike pointed
out.

"Maybe it would have been a good idea to keep me apprised
of the things you're looking for in a house. So, you want a big
backyard and a deck?"

"Well, yeah. That way I can have barbeques and grill on the
grill I plan to get for the deck."

Buffy giggled.

"When I picture my home. . . I don't know, I guess I kind of
picture the place you and Wesley have."

Buffy looked up at him, a strange look on her face.

"What?"

"That's kind of. . . I don't know if that's healthy or not."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I realize that we've all become very close over the
past couple months, but do you find it at all strange? I mean,
with the history we have and now you're all making nice with
me and my boyfriend."

Spike clenched his jaw and gripped the steering
wheel. "I'm ‘making nice' now? What the hell is that supposed
to mean?"

"I didn't mean it that way—"

"Then please tell me what that means? Are you telling me
that I have no place in your life now? As long as you need
me to be there to heal or whatever the hell it is you need me
to do, then all those other times when I might need someone,
I'm not supposed to come around? I'm supposed to stay
away and stay out of your life with Wesley until you decide
it's all right for me to come around? Is that it Buffy?"

"No, Spike, you're misunderstanding what I'm saying to you—
"

"Then explain it to me so that I can understand," he
demanded angrily.

"Shut the hell up so I can!"

He slammed his mouth shut and waited for her to continue.

"Of course I'm happy that you feel comfortable around
Wesley and I now. I feel comfortable with you now too. I'm
ecstatic that you've decided to make a home for yourself, and
NO, I don't expect you just come around when I ask you too.
That's a load of bull and you know it."

"Then what about the ‘making nice' comment?"

"Poor choice of words. As happy as I am that we're friends and that our horrible past doesn't follow us around like a
black cloud–"

"Not all it was horrible Buffy."

"Are you determined to twist everything I have to say?" She
unbuckled her seat belt and twisted in the chair so she could
face him. "Listen," she took a deep breath. "I'm so happy that
we are in a good place. I'm happy that we can be friends
after all the stuff that happened to us. And no, I don't mean
that all of it was horrible because it wasn't. When I said horrible, I mean that the stuff that happened after we were
separated was horrible. Not when we were together and
happy."

"You just never really talk about those times as good.
Sometimes I wonder if you really were happy or just look
back on being with me as this horrible experience. Because
while all the shit that happened to us was bad; when we
were together, I was happy. Weren't you?"

Her whole expression softened. "I was Spike. I was very
happy. I thought you knew that."

"Sometimes, I'm not so sure. When you talk about it, you talk
about how stupid you were and how wrong you were. You
tell me that I forced you into something that you shouldn't
have done. We never talk about the good times Buffy. Only the bad. I just wonder if I'm the only one here with the
amazing memories of what it was like to be loved and in love
with you."

"Oh God, that's got to be the sweetest thing anyone has
ever said to me," she said and her eyes welled up in tears.

"I didn't mean to make you cry."

"And I didn't mean to make it seem as if you were just here
out of convenience for my life and putting it together."

"You ARE together, I'm trying to MYSELF together."

"You give me far too much credit. I'm not that together, Spike.
I'm still working at it. You've heard my music. Does all that
anger and angst sound like a girl that's all put together?" She
managed lightly.

"But you're trying. And I want to try too."

"That's just what I meant right there Spike. I want you to be
happy. I want you to have a home and I want you to feel that
you belong somewhere. What I don't want is for it be forced. I want it to what YOU want, not what you think you HAVE to
do. Until you announced your decision to make a home here, you seemed as if you had one foot out of the city and was just waiting until you felt it was the right time to move on. Now I've got to wonder, why the sudden change?"

"You think it has to do with you."

"It crossed my mind, but I'd like to think I'm not that conceited."

"What else crossed your mind?"

She giggled, "that you have a crush on Wesley."

Spike's eyes bugged out of his head. "What?"

"I'm teasing. Sort of. It's easy to have a crush on Wesley. I mean, look at him. Want to talk about together? We're talking about a man that knows exactly what he wants and goes after it. And, he gets it more often than not."

"No kidding. He got the elusive Buffy Summers didn't he?" Spike said dryly and Buffy hit him playfully.

"Sometimes it is weird how we all get along. You have to admit. With what we had and with Wesley. . . it's an odd little mix. Not to say that it doesn't work for us, because it has, but I guess I'm just saying that I don't want you to settle here unless you are absolutely sure you want to and not because of me or Willow or Xander. Or because in some way you
think you owe it to me, to our memory or whatever. Or because you feel that it's the right thing to do at this stage in your life when you're not really ready to settle down and you're still perfectly happy moving around.
And when you say that you picture MY home as the kind of home you want, it kind of makes me wonder how healthy our attachments are to each other."

"I'm not settling because of anyone Buffy. I'm settling for me. It's something I have to do. I'm tired of living my life as a vagabond and not having a place to call home. I'm tired of never feeling at home. Yes, having you and Xander and Willow here has helped those things. . . I told you before that the only time I ever felt I was at home was in Sunnydale with you all. So, this is like my Sunnydale I guess. I have never felt that I had my life in order and that I was an adult. I've always felt like such an immature, angry teenager that just made one unhealthy choice after another. I want to stop that. I'm almost thirty years old Buffy, I'm supposed to be an adult by now. It's time I started acting like one. It's time I took my career a little more seriously and it's time I carved out a life for myself. I just can't think of a place that would fit as well as this one and I don't want to do any more searching because, frankly, I'm tired of it. I don't think our attachments are unhealthy at all. For the first time in a long time, I FEEL healthy. I feel that I'm on the right path and it is thanks to you that I feel that way. Ever since we saw each other again, I feel as if I'd been put down this path to finally put the past behind me and part of doing that is by making plans for the future and not living by the seat of my pants anymore. I want to be the type of guy that someone feels they could rely on and trust one day. Not the guy that they'll wonder if I'll be there the next day or not."

"I'm so happy for you," Buffy said emotionally and reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "We'll find you the best house ever."

Spike grinned and looked over at her, "you're such a sap," he teased.

"I know. It's all your fault! I used to be tough as nails and now look at me. I'm a weepy, mushy mess!" She exclaimed and dug in her purse for tissues.

"Look in the glove compartment. Don't worry, Buffy. You can still be a right bitch when you want to be."

She slugged him on the arm, though not angrily, and then began her search for the tissues.

He fought the urge to rub his arm. He didn't want to admit it, but man, she could pack a punch! "See?" Was all he said.

TBC...please review!! Let me know what you think...

How's about another chapter tonight?? :) You guys are the best with reviews, please keep them coming! And, this will be spuffy, not Spike/Buffy friendship. I promise!!!

Chapter Eleven



“Do you know anything about painting?” Buffy asked as she stared at Spike who stared at her as if she were nuts for asking for a sheet.

“What are you talking about, you daft bint. Course I do,” he scoffed.

“Then you would know that you need a sheet to cover the floor so that it doesn’t ruin the carpet. You can’t just expect to start painting Spike. This isn’t a commercial or a sitcom.”

He smirked, “no if it were a sitcom, you’d have a gallon of paint dumped on your head about now.”

“That a threat, Mr. Reeves?” She asked, hands on her hips, a daring look glittering in her eyes.

He shrugged nonchalantly, “possibly.”

“Don’t make me sick Wesley on you,” she pointed a warning finger at him.

“Where is the ol’ boy anyway? Thought he was going to help us out.”

Buffy sighed. “Oh, he was going to, but he had some work to do. He’s got a big meeting on Monday he wanted to prep for.”

“Did I tell you I got my name on the door?”

Buffy smiled widely, “ you did? They really like you over there. When are you going to do a piece on ‘Pangs’?”

“Don’t know if that’s a good idea kitten.”

“Why not?” She pouted.

“Well, because I’m such good friends with the band members. Might be a conflict of interest.”

“That’s ok.”

Spike laughed, “yeah, for you.”

Buffy giggled. “Shall we get cracking on this? Get the sheet for crying out loud!”

“You’re a bossy chit you know that? When did you become so bossy? The Buffy Summers I knew–“

“Was a wimp!” She finished the thought.

He chuckled, “nah.”

She gave him a look.

“Okay, maybe a little. But I loved her with all my heart”

It was funny. Spike had said those words to her a million times before over the past few months, but this time, it shifted something. Made the air somehow different. It was something neither of them wanted to dwell on. Spike silently went for the sheets and Buffy tended to getting the paint ready.







Three hours later, they sat in the middle of the room, sharing a pizza and looking over the work they’d done.

“I think we did an excellent job,” Buffy noted as she surveyed the room.

“Me too. Even if I do think you got more paint in your hair on your clothes than on the walls.”

She stuck out her tongue. “Very funny. Ha ha.”

“My first meal in my first—and only---home. Nice to share it with you Miss Summers.”

“Why thank you Mr. Reeves. I’m glad I could be part of the food christening for you.”

“Well, this would be food christening.,” and he flung a pepperoni at her, hitting her on the forehead. It left a greasy orange mark and dropped to the floor.

“You’re funny,” she said, an almost dangerous glint in her eye as Spike laughed.

“I’ll get you a paper towel,” and he jumped up to grab one in the kitchen. When he came back, he found Buffy hunched over and it sounded as if she were crying.

“Buffy?” He asked softly.

She continued to cry and he knelt beside her. “Buffy baby, tell me what’s wrong. I hate to see you cry. Always have. Buffy?” He placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned closer.

Quick as a cat Buffy sprung up and mashed an entire slice of pizza in Spike’s face. He fell backwards with the force and took her with him, his hand still on her shoulder. She landed on top of him with an ‘oof’ and she burst out laughing at the sight of Spike with cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms and sauce all over his face.

“I think we need to change your nickname to Pizza Face,” Buffy roared.

He reached up and pushed some hair away from her face and gazed at her. “You know what color would bring out those gorgeous green eyes?”

She stopped laughing and looked at him. “What?”

“Blue,” and before she knew it she had a streak of paint down her face. It took her a minute to register what he did as Spike started to laugh and then she lunged for the paint brush and he tried to wrestle her away from him as she squirmed on top of him.

A voice cleared and both heads turned to see the source of it. Wesley. Buffy pushed herself off of Spike and leapt up to him, not liking the angry look on her boyfriends face. She moved to hug him, but he stopped her.

“You’re all paint Buffy,” he told her at her confused look.

“Oh. Yeah. Uh, we’re done here anyway, so I’m just going to change. Be right back.” She took off leaving the men to stand there and stare at each other.

Spike was wiping pizza off his face as he stood. “Hey mate.”

“What’s going on in here exactly?”

Spike froze at the icy tone to Wesley’s voice. “What?”

“I come in here and see you rolling around with my girlfriend. What’s going on?”

“Wesley, mate, it’s not what it looks like at all. I threw a pepperoni at her face and I went to get her a paper towel and she pretended to cry so she could mush pizza in my face. I got her with paint and then she—“

“Just stop already Spike,” Wesley said tiredly.

“There was nothing going on, I swear. I told you before that I respect the relationship you have with Buffy—“

“Do you really?”

Spike stared at him, “Wesley don’t make something out of nothing.”

“Am I?”

“Would you stop doing that?”

“Listen Spike, I know that you and Buffy have found peace with each other over the past few months and while I whole heartedly support it, I do NOT support you rolling around on the floor with my girlfriend!” Wesley’s voice had slowly risen with each word until it was a full out shout.

“We weren’t ‘rolling’ around the way you think Wesley,” Spike tried.

“She’s not a teenager anymore, William. You can’t take advantage of her any longer.” Wesley ground out.

Spike felt as if Wesley had just slapped him across the face, he stumbled back with the force of his words. “That was a low blow, mate,” Spike whispered. “About something you know NOTHING about.”

“Let it be a lesson to you.”

That sparked Spike’s anger and instead of backing away, he surged forth, staring the man down. “What’s the matter Wesley? Jealous I got there first?”

Spike knew Wesley was about to clock him and he didn’t care. He didn’t like the fact that Wesley could make a generalization about something he didn’t know anything about. It made him wonder what Buffy had told him and it made him wonder how Buffy really did feel about their past relationship. She said that she had been happy and that she didn’t blame him anymore, but had she lied?

“Honey, I’m ready!” Buffy’s voice called out from down the hall.

The men separated and Wesley made his way to her. Spike followed closely behind, trying to keep his anger in check.

“You all right with the clean up?” Buffy asked as she stuffed her clothes in a bag.

Spike nodded.

“Don’t forget to thoroughly wash the paint brushes so you can use them again.”

“He’s a big boy, Buffy. I’m sure he can figure it out on his own,” Wesley said as he ushered her out the door. Spike nearly slammed the door behind them. He stood there, in the hall to his new home, shaking with anger. How DARE Wesley say those things; he didn’t know ANYTHING about him and Buffy and what they had. Nothing. Buffy wouldn’t lie to him, not now, not after all their talks. Why would she tell Wesley Spike took advantage of her or that she still blamed him for it all and not tell him? She wouldn’t. She’d been honest about every other goddamn thing, why would she start lying now? The tension was building stronger and stronger in his body. He’d loved her dammit, and she’d loved him! There was no taking advantage on anyone’s part. He would have never taken advantage of her. “FUCK!” Spike shouted and slammed his fist into the wall, causing the plaster to give way and leave a gaping hall in the foyer wall. He barely felt the pain, but he knew he would soon as he made his way into the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer.





“Buffy, I need to tell you something,” Wesley told her as soon as they arrived home after a quiet ride home in which Buffy knew he was angry, but didn’t quite know how to bring it up.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t Spike coming over here anymore for dinner.”

Buffy stared at Wesley, processing what he was saying to her. “You know that nothing’s going on right?”

“What I walked in on didn’t look like nothing.”

“Did you miss the pizza all over his face? Or the paint all over mine? Wesley, we were just goofing off. You know the same way I would do with Xander or Willow.”

“You didn’t have a relationship with Xander or Willow. You didn’t have a BABY with them. I don’t want him coming over here anymore. I don’t want him to think that he can get back with my girlfriend and that I’ll be okay with it!”

“Get back with- -? You think that he would? You think that I would do that to you?”

“You have been spending a lot of time with each other as of late.”

“Yeah, we’ve talking and. . . TALKING. You supported it, you said it was a good thing.”

“I didn’t realize just how cozy you were becoming with each other until I saw you rolling around on the ground together. I don’t want him thinking he can take advantage of you again Buffy.”

“Take advantage of me? When did he--?” She looked at him horrified. “That’s what you think happened? That he took advantage of me? He never took advantage of me Wesley. He would never do that.”

“So he didn’t pressure you into seeing him when you knew it was the wrong thing to do?”
“He’s not forcing me to do anything wrong now. Seeing Spike is NOT wrong. Don’t you know that it’s because of our healthy relationship that he decided to settle down and someday share the same thing we have with someone else?”

“And you’re certain that’s its not you he’s set his sights on?”

“I know it’s not. How can you make these accusations about my past with him when you know nothing about it? You know the bad stuff, you don’t know ANYTHING about the good stuff. Spike never forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do. I was a different person then than I am now and so is he, but you know what? He was still a good man then and he’s still a good man now. And yes, I did blame him for a long time, but I also blamed me too because I wanted him just as much. We were young and were stupid. I will NOT let you put the blame all on him and I will NOT let you put demands on me. You don’t want him here, fine. But I’m not going to stop seeing him.” She stared hard at him. “You don’t trust me.”

“I didn’t say that. I don’t trust him.”

“No. You don’t trust me. You don’t trust me to stay away from him if it were true that he wanted me.”

Wesley ran a hand through his hair. “What do you expect me to think Buffy? It’s not like you share with me when you two talk.”

“Because what happened with me and Spike is between me and Spike! It’s not like I intentionally keep it from you! You don’t tell me what happened with the girls you used to date. What about your first love? Huh? What happened with her? What kind of things do you want to dredge up from your past and discuss in excruciating detail? And you know what it’s not only my life Spike and I discuss, it’s his too. It’s his past and his memories and his pain just as much as its mine. It wouldn’t be fair of me to do that to him. All this time Wesley, I thought you really liked him and that you were supportive of this. Was that all a lie?”

“No, it wasn’t. I just didn’t think it’d do this far! I thought he’d be gone by now!”

Buffy’s jaw dropped, “oh my God.” Turning on her heel, she started for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Willow’s. But feel free to call in case you don’t trust me,” and she slammed the door shut behind her.

Chapter Twelve



Buffy was fuming. Fuming so much, she was shaking. Then the tears started to prick her eyes and she wanted more than anything to pummel something. Here she was thinking about how great had been recently; she had a great boyfriend, a great job and then Spike had come back in her life and they’d managed to become great friends and put the past behind them. Now, come to find out, it had all been a lie. She wiped furiously at her tears and found herself not on the path to Willow’s at all, but on her way to Spike’s. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and sighed. If she went to see him and Wesley found out, that’d just give him fodder to mistrust her even more. However, she was concerned. Concerned that Wesley had said something to him. She’d left them alone for a while when she’d gone to change. Noting how angry Wesley was and the conversation they’d just had, there was no way he hadn’t said anything to him.

Torn, unsure of what to do, Buffy instead withdrew her cell from her pocket and speed dialed Spike.

“’Ello?”

“Are you drinking?” She blurted out.

“Lil bit. What are you doing? Wesley know you’re talking to me?” He sounded bitter.

“You had words,” she stated.

“Funny thing about words. They teach you in school that they’re not supposed to hurt, but you know what? They lie. The right words can cut right to the quick. What do you want Buffy?”

“I wanted to know that you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

“So what? Seems you’ve lied to.”
”About what?”

“You think I took advantage of you.”

“He said that to you?”

“Buffy,” he sighed, suddenly sounding defeated. “I’m not doing this all right? I fucked up your life once already. I’m not going to fuck it up again. I’m just going to bow out gracefully and let you live your life with him.”

“Spike, you didn’t fuck up my life.”

“I did though, didn’t I? Got you pregnant and then had to leave you. Made you sneak around.”

“Spike, you didn’t make me do anything!”

“I just wanted to love you,” he whimpered.

“I’m coming over,” she muttered. “Just give me a bit. I didn’t take the car.”

“Where are you?” He sounded startled.

“Halfway to your house. I left. Wesley and I had a fight.”

“Buffy, you shouldn’t be out by yourself. Let me come get you.”

“That sounds even safer since you’ve been drinking.”

“Does Wesley know you’re coming to see me?” He asked softly.

“No. He thinks I’m going to Willows and I had every intention to when I left.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“It occurred to me that I gave you two time alone earlier and maybe he said something to you. He laid into me as soon as we got home. That was after an extremely chilly car ride.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m angry,” she said simply.

“So am I.”

“I’m sorry. He told you I thought you took advantage of me?”

“No, he—“ He stopped. “Buffy. I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

“What do you mean?” She asked as she strolled up his driveway.

He opened the door. “I told you I respected your relationship with Wesley and I meant that. I don’t want to do anything to come between you,” he said and clicked his phone off. She closed hers and stuffed the phone back in her pocket, standing before him.

“You didn’t. He came between us. He lied to me. I thought he understood and as it turns out. . . “ she broke off, tears welling up again, “he didn’t.”

Spike had her in his arms in an instant. He held her tight and stroked her hair, whispering comforting words in her ear.

“How is it that no matter what, no one understands or gets what happened between us except for us?” She cried against him. “I mean, they just jump to their own conclusions and don’t really hear when you tell them.” She pulled back and wiped at her tears.

“Did you tell him that I took advantage of you Buffy?” Spike asked gently.

“No! Of course not. You didn’t. I know that. I knew that then.”

“Let’s sit,” he said and brought her into the kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“Got any wine?” She asked settling on a chair.

Spike chuckled, “matter of fact, I do. Willow gave me some for the new house.” He started pulling glasses when Buffy jumped up from her seat and grabbed his wrist.

“What did you do to your hand?”

“Buffy, I’m all right.”

“Spike,” she said demandingly.

“Punched a wall.”

“Because of what Wesley said?”

He nodded. “I thought you were telling him one thing and me another.”

“Spike,” she started.

He put a finger to her lips. “Stop. I know. I know you didn’t lie to me.”

They stared at each other for a long while and if Buffy wanted to admit the truth, then she would have to admit that there was a spark there. A spark that had started with his words earlier that day with his words of loving her once upon a time with all his heart. And, now, now there was another spark. She turned away from him and sat down once again. Silently, Spike poured her the wine and set it in front of her.

“What happened?” He asked after a minute.

“He told me he didn’t want you coming over for dinner anymore. He lied. He told me all this time that he supported our friendship, but he doesn’t really. His exact words were he didn’t think you would have stuck around this long.”

Spike’s gaze snapped to hers. “He said that?”

She nodded.
“Put a right crimp in his plans when I decided to settle here didn’t it?”

Buffy couldn’t help but let a laugh escape. “Sure did.” Silence. “Do you regret it now?”

Spike held her gaze intently. “No,” he told her evenly and honestly. “I don’t regret it Buffy. Just because I had a row with your beau doesn’t mean I’m high tailing it out of here. This is my home. For the first time since leaving Sunnydale, I have a home and I intend to stay.”
“I’m glad,” she told him, giving him a watery smile. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Spike shook his head and moved to kneel in front of her, gathering her in his arms. “How did you hurt me?”

“All those times I said I blamed you. It’s probably my fault Wesley thinks that you took advantage of me. I’m sorry. I never thought you took advantage of me,” she was crying again. God, she hated to cry. “I know you loved me. I loved you too. And maybe I didn’t tell you that before, but I really did love you Spike.”

“I know you did baby,” he said soothingly, stroking her hair. “Wesley came to those conclusions on his own, Buffy. He wasn’t there, he didn’t know what was between us.”

“No one does. Not really. And I – I listened to my parents when they made it into something ugly. But it wasn’t. It really wasn’t and I’m sorry if I made you think you fucked up my life. You didn’t. You made my life better. Someone like you actually loved someone like me. I never thought it was possible. You were the first guy that ever loved me not matter how insecure and immature I was.”
Spike pulled back a little and smiled tenderly at her, pushing her hair from her face gently. “It was simply unavoidable to love you Buffy. You were the kindest person I knew, you had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever known. Still do, you know. No matter how much you try to close yourself off, I can still see it.” Leaning in he gave her a small, quick kiss on her forehead. “You’re still an inspiration to me. When we were together, you made me want to be a better man and give up my wild way and do some good. When I found out you were pregnant, I thought I’d done something really good to be having a child with you. When we lost it. . . I thought it was my penance for all the horrible things I’d ever done before, including pushing you to sneak around.”

She shook her head, “no, that’s not the way we’re supposed to think about it anymore,” she told him earnestly.

“I don’t. Because you came back into my life. You’re here inspiring me all over again to be something better than I was. What would I do without you Buffy?

“Perish and die,” she said and let a laugh escape.

Spike laughed and took her back in his arms. “What are you going to do?” He asked after a while.

“I don’t know. Go to Willow’s, I guess.”
“You could stay here. I can sleep on the couch.”

She shook her head. “No. If Wesley found out. . . I still do love him. No matter how angry and hurt I am by him right now, I still can’t hurt him.”

“I understand,” Spike stood and offered her a hand to help her up. “If you need me to stay away for a while, I get it.”

She shook her head, “no. That’s not fair. We haven’t done anything wrong. And, I . . . I think I need you Spike.”

He smiled a bit. “That works out well then because I need you too.”




Love the reviews guys...please keep them coming...:)

Chapter Thirteen
"I want to ask you a question and I want the gut reaction, no time for thinking when I ask it all right?" Tara asked, leaning slightly forward and studying Buffy.

"All right," Buffy agreed, slightly uneasy.

"Wesley has a history with a girl the same as you have with
Spike. How do you feel about it? Answer now."

"Threatened," Buffy blurted out and her eyes widened
immediately.

"Would you invite her to your home with Wesley, would you
be all right with him spending time alone with her as much as
you and Spike have?"

Buffy had a spark of defiance, then it extinguished. She
looked down. "No. I wouldn't be all right with it. I'd worry."

"About?"

"That they'd want to pick up where they left off. That old
feelings would resurface."

"Buffy. Wesley went a little about and beyond don't you
think? He might have went about it in the wrong way, and
perhaps he wasn't completely honest with his comfort level

about the whole thing, but he did invite Spike into the home
you share with him and made a concentrated effort to get to
know the man that you have such a history with."

Buffy sprang up. "That's just it! He should have told me he
didn't like it! Why did he invite Spike into our home if he didn't
really want to?"

"Like I said, he might not have gone about it in the best way,

being that it was obviously eating at him, but if I would wager
a guess, it was because he loves you and felt in that way he
was doing right by you. And how would you have reacted if
he told you he didn't feel very comfortable with Spike's
presence in your life?"

"I probably would have told him to get over it," Buffy grumbled
and sat back down, hiding her face in her
hands. "Relationships are such a pain in the ass. Why does
anyone bother?"

"It makes the world go round," Tara supplied on a chuckle.

"Yeah, well, all it seems to do in my case is make my life a
living hell. I mean. . . I feel like I'm repeating the past all over
again. Here we have Wesley," she said, holding up a
hand, "and over here," she held up her other hand, "we have
Spike. Wesley is like my parents, though not tyrannical, but
still a figure in my life that I love and respect. Well, if you call
my relationship with my parents one of respect, but anyway,
I'm off base. Wesley is my parents. The one telling me not to
see Spike. Then Spike. . . Spike is STILL Spike. Still the guy I
shouldn't be seeing."

"Seems you have another choice to make Buffy. What will
you do?"

Buffy had no answer to that.

Spike saw her walking up the path to his house and
something inside him clenched by the look on her face. She
looked tired and worried. He knew. It was then that he knew
what she was going to tell him. He found himself unable to speak and only opened the door to let her in. He felt the
familiar prick of tears behind his eyes. He felt as if he were
losing her all over again.

She took him in and he saw the myriad of emotions pass over
her face: Sadness, fear, loss, sympathy and then
resignation. Her hands were balled at her sides as he stood
before her.

"This is it then," he said softly, not daring to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Spike. I—"

"You don't have to say it Buffy. I told you if you had to do it,
then. . . you had to do it."

"I told you I needed you," she told him, as if he needed
reminding.

He looked up at her, "I know. I remember. I still need you."

A tear fell from her eye and Spike grabbed her, hauling her
against him and holding on tight. She held him just as tight and
he felt his shirt becoming wet.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "It's what I have to do."

He pulled back and stared at her. Cupping her face in his
hands he leaned in and kissed her; deeply, passionately.

Pressing his forehead to hers after coming up for air, he gazed directly in her eyes. "I'll wait for you."

She wasn't sure what he meant exactly, but she nodded,
pressed her lips to his quickly and ran from him. Closing the
door, he sagged against it, sank to the ground and had
himself a good cry.

When Wesley came home that night, Buffy was waiting for
him on the porch. She looked up at him, her expression
unreadable.

"I should have told you," he said and she noticed how tired
he looked. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you how I felt."

She stood up, standing on the top step and faced him. She
had to look down at him a little bit as he looked up at her with
worn eyes.

"You think he took advantage of me. That's not the case,
Wesley. Not the case at all."

Wesley shook his head, looking down. He paused, looked
back up at her. "I know. I'm sorry. You were hurt and all this
time, it was all about Spike. . . What was I supposed to think
Buffy?"

Buffy reached out and took his hand in hers. "I think it's time I
told you. Everything. Are you ready?"

Wesley nodded mutely and allowed her to lead him into their
home.

Chapter Fourteen

Buffy found herself restless. More so than usual. It'd been
almost a month since she'd seen Spike she knew she missed
him. It was the only way to explain the tremendous hole in
heart. She felt as if a part of her were missing and it nearly
knocked her to the floor when she realized that it was Spike.
Not that she didn't care for him, because oh god, she did. She
just hadn't realized the depth of it until she had to cut him out
of her life yet again. Only this time, it was by her own hand.

Part of her resented Wesley though. In fact, more than part
because the resentment grew day by day.

She knew she needed Spike, she just wasn't sure HOW she needed him until he was gone and she had ample time to
piece together the past few months. She compared herself to
a gaping wound after Spike and her had been separated.
She had a hole in her heart and in her soul due to their loss of
each other and their baby and she felt that she'd never heal

from it. She felt she'd never find anyone to love her again. Who could love someone as broken as she? Who could love
someone who had a child and then lost a child with their first
love? Surely, no one could.

Enter Wesley.


Wesley with his head on straight, with his penchant for knowing what he wanted and succeeding at getting it every
time. He was smart, witty, kind and had a huge heart. He
was an adult and she. . . she felt like a kid. But Wesley loved
her. He showered her with affection, he let her know that
she was lovable. And she let herself become swept away
by that feeling. She leaned on him and she hadn't realized
until now just how much. She didn't know until she started
standing on her own two feet, until she started healing and
feeling whole on her own. Until Spike had pointed out how
together SHE was.

Wesley's love had distracted her from the pain of feeling
empty. He gave her hope and she learned from him how to
pretend to be together when inside, she felt anything but.
She did warn Spike that he gave her far too much credit.

Wesley never filled the hole, never fully gave her what she
needed. Because, what she needed was Spike. Spike was
the solvent, the bandage, and the antiseptic to her gaping
wounds. It was with him—and it could ONLY be him—that
she put herself back together and started to become the
person she had always wanted to be. What was even more
wondrous? She was able to be that person for Spike. Where
he had once been her savior, she had now become his. Only
this time, it wasn't with the trappings of young, inexperienced
and fumbling love. They were equals now. They'd supported
each other and they'd grown into their lives and the path they
were meant to be on together. Only. . . there was a piece
missing. They weren't together in the way they should be.
And, after telling Wesley everything about her past with
Spike, how happy she had been, how giddy she had been. . .
she knew it to be true by the way her heart sang at the
memory and the way her lips still tingled from his kiss.
She loved Spike. Oh, she did love Wesley. She had the whole
time, but she'd never given all of herself to him the way she
had with Spike. The way she only COULD with Spike. The
talks they'd had over the past few months, the sometimes
brutal honesty they'd shared with each other; she'd opened
herself up to Spike in ways she'd never opened herself to
Wesley. So, while she did love Wesley, she was in love with
Spike.

She'd been so caught up in doing what was right this time

around, that she hadn't realized until she'd ripped out her own heart how wrong she was. Now, she felt trapped.
She'd made her bed. Now she had to lie in it.

Buffy was slicing tomatoes for the salad she was preparing
for dinner. Wesley had been going on and on over the past
few weeks about some new teacher that had started at his
school. Fred something or other. She felt guilty that she'd
barely listened to him speak about the man, but really, she
had no interest in Chemistry, which is what Fred taught. If
Buffy wasn't so sure that Wesley was very much straight,
she would have thought that he had a crush on this Fred.
He'd called her that afternoon to ask if she could please
prepare dinner as he wanted to introduce her to Fred. Seems
Fred was new in town and didn't really know anyone.
Wesley, ever the generous spirit, wanted to make him feel as
welcome as possible.

Buffy's mind kept drifting to the song she'd been working on
earlier. She rolled her eyes. A love song. That's all she
seemed to be writing these days. Love songs…HER! It was
unthinkable. She frowned as she remembered the week
before when Wesley expressed his notice of her
withdrawal. She'd dodged his questions and pretended that
everything was fine. He told her that he knew everything
was certainly not fine considering she never joined him in
their bed anymore. Instead, she would stay up and wait until
she knew he was asleep before joining him. She'd adamantly
denied anything was wrong; just stress at work she'd said.
He'd walked away from her and she felt consumed with guilt.

Guilt was an emotion she'd become quite accustomed to.
Guilt for hurting Spike, guilt for hurting Wesley. When would it
end?

"Buffy, I'm home! Fred's with me!"

Buffy plastered a smile on her face, trying to make it look as
real as possible and went to the foyer to greet her
boyfriends guest.

Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor when she realized that
the person Wesley had been speaking nonstop about was
not a man at all, but a woman. A beautiful, dainty woman with
chestnut, waist length hair, a shy smile and a sweet face.

"You must be Buffy. I'm Fred. Well, Winifred Burke, but
everyone calls me Fred. Thank you so much for having me
over for dinner," Fred greeted Buffy graciously, holding out a
slender hand and smiling brightly.

Buffy smiled back, this time genuine, and took her
hand. "Happy to have you. I've heard so much about you from Wesley."

Fred let out a nervous laugh, "oh boy. Only good things I
hope."

Buffy smiled, "all good things."

Wesley was beaming at Fred, "see, I told you. Buffy wouldn't lie. Come on, let's get you something to drink."

Buffy watched with eyebrows raised as Wesley escorted Fred into the kitchen without so much as giving her a hello
kiss.


Throughout dinner Wesley and Fred spoke animatedly about
any topic that was presented. Mainly, chemistry. Buffy
nodded in all the right places and asked questions where appropriate, but she hadn't a clue as to what they were
talking about. As she got up from the table and made her way
to the island to pour herself some more wine, she took in the
scene before her of Wesley and Fred. She started pouring
her glass, when it hit her.

Wesley was, quite possibly, in love with Fred. If not, then he
was well on his way to. Then something else hit her with the
force of a truck. Spike's words when she left him that day. ‘I'll wait for you'. She knew what he meant. By God, she knew what he meant! He loved her and he was giving her time. He

was letting her do what she felt she had to do so long ago. He wasn't pushing her, wasn't forcing her to choose him. No, he was giving her the choice and telling her that when she was ready, he would be there for her.

"Oh my God," she breathed.

"Buffy, stop!"

She looked down to see her glass was now overflowing with the cool liquid. She nearly slammed the bottle of wine
down and looked up to see Wesley and Fred staring at her
curiously.

"Just went somewhere else for a minute," she explained hastily. "Anyone want some wine?" She asked and brought over the bottle.

Wesley took it from her. "I'll pour it."

***Anyone ready for some Spuffy lovin? You must review....:)

Chapter Fifteen

"That went well," Wesley told her as they loaded the dishwasher together after Fred had left.

Buffy nodded absently.

"Did you like her?"

Buffy nodded.

Wesley sighed. "Are you going to talk to me?"

She stopped at the irritation in his voice. "Sorry."

"Where were you tonight? What happened?"
She wasn't sure how to approach the subject short of just
flat out saying what was on her mind. Wesley however, beat
her to the chase.

"It's about him isn't it?"

Buffy didn't know how to answer.

"When will it just be us again Buffy?"

Buffy sighed heavily and set the glass down she was
holding. "Wesley," she started and then stopped. She really
didn't know how to say it. How do you tell the guy you've
been living with and the guy you're supposed to be in love
with that you're not? The last thing she wanted to do was
hurt him. As far as she was concerned, there'd been far too
much hurting going on.

"You love him, don't you?" Wesley asked quietly.

She fell silent.

"Did you ever love me Buffy?"

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. This was it, the end.
She could feel it. Yes, she did love Spike, but it didn't make
the whole thing any less scary. Not only that, the end of her
and Wesley was like closing a chapter of her life that she'd
come to depend on for so long. It was the end of not just a
relationship, but a phase in her life. She was moving on from
the Buffy that needed reassurance that she could be loved,
to the Buffy that was finally learning to love herself.

"I did, Wesley. I did love you."

"But not like you love him?"

"I didn't realize—"

He waved a hand at her and walked away. "I know, I know.
You didn't realize until he came back, right?" He sounded
almost accusing.

She nodded.

He hung his head. "I never had you, not really. I knew it on
some level. I knew that there was always this part of you
that was always held back. And I knew it had to do with him.
It always was about him wasn't it Buffy?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. . . I truly didn't know—"

"How could you not have known?" He shouted at her,
slamming his fist down on the counter.

"I didn't WANT it to be about him. I just wanted to heal from
losing my baby."

"And you never stopped to think that you had to heal from
losing him too?"

"I tried so hard to push that away from him, to push HIM
away from me. . . I thought I had succeeded. It wasn't until he
came back that I remembered. That I remembered what it was
like to love him."

"And you, what? Remembered that you still held a torch for
him?"

"It wasn't like that Wesley. I didn't set out with romantic intent
with him, you KNOW that."

"I know," he whispered. He looked up at her. "You've
always belonged to him, Buffy. Even when you didn't know
it, I did."

"It's scary," she told him honestly, her tears pouring freely
now.

"Sometimes the scariest things are the best things for us."

"The road less traveled and all that crap? I've always been

fond of the road with all the people on it."
Wesley moved closer and cupped her cheek in his
hand. "No. That's not you. You think it is because the idea
makes you feel safer, but it's not you Buffy. You're stronger
than you give yourself credit for. You have changed so much in the past few months. There isn't so much anger in you, there isn't all this pain just bubbling beneath the surface. You
were like this wounded bird when I met you. You didn't know where to go or what to do with yourself."

"And you nursed me back to health."

"No, I didn't. Not all of it. I just helped you discover what you
wanted to be. Spike healed you, and with him, you found
peace within yourself. Now you're soaring."

Buffy flung her arms around Wesley and sobbed against
him. He stroked her hair and she could feel his tears fall on her hair and dampen her shoulder.

"I'll go to Willow's," she told him when they had cried their
hearts out.

"You don't have to, Buffy. You can stay here."

"No. It's not right. This house is more you than me. This birds
got to find a cage of her own."

"Spike's?"

She shook her head. "No. Mine. My own place. I went from
my parent's home, to living with Willow, to living with you. I
want something of my own. Stand on my own two feet for a
while and see how it goes."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I will. Eventually."

"You've been missing him."

"I have, but it doesn't seem right to bounce like that does it?"

"That's my Buffy. Always doing what she feels is right,"
Wesley smiled sadly. "Except you're not my Buffy now
anymore, are you?"

"I never knew what it meant to say you belonged to the
world. I guess I know now. It feels kind of scary, but nice all
the same. Like I have this blank plan in front of me and I can
start filling it in as I go. I'm not as afraid of that as I used to be."

"I love you."

"I know," she told him tearfully. "You're not alone Wesley. I
think I know someone that wants to be yours. And, I think you
want to be theirs. So, now we're both free birds."

Wesley wiped at his eyes and walked away. "I'm going for a
walk. Do you think--?"

"I'll be gone before you come back, Wesley."

Giving her one last sweet kiss, Wesley released her and
walked out the door without a word.



Spike was staring into nothingness as he drank his beer and
only half listened to Xander prattle on about Anya something or other.

"Did you hear about Buffy?"

Spike's head snapped to Xander, her name having caught
his attention. "What about her? Is she all right?"

Xander raised an eyebrow. "That certainly got your
attention."

Spike glared at him.

"She's fine. She moved out of Wesley's last week."

Spike shot up from his chair. "What?" He nearly
shouted. "She moved out and I'm just finding out NOW? Why
the bloody hell didn't she tell me? Why didn't ANYONE fucking
tell me until a week after the fact?"

Xander stared at him. "Are you done now?"

Spike ran a hand through his hair. "Did he kick her out after
all that?"

"No. She left of her own free will."

"Why?"

"Are you being serious right now?"

"Because of me," Spike muttered. "Did it all go to hell
because of me? Did I ruin her relationship?"

"No, Spike. You didn't. Buffy's actually been pretty vague
about what happened. I think it's something you need to talk
to Buffy about."

"How can I? She obviously doesn't want to talk to me right
now. If she wanted to talk to me, she would have called or
come over or. . . or something." He sat down heavily, resting
his head in his hands.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" Spike looked up at him.

"Don't do that thing where you want to talk to her, but you
don't because you don't think she wants to talk to you. Then
she'll think you don't want to talk to her because you didn't
come and see her after you found out and then it'll continue
on like that for months which will be blend into years. Do you
really want to do that? Do you really want to spend all this
time wondering what happened and how it will affect you or
do you want to go see her and find out for yourself and then
possibly see what place in her life you have now?"

Spike stared at him, stunned. "How did you become the
voice of reason?"

"Time, patience and lots of chick flicks."

Spike burst out in nervous laughter. "She staying with
Willow?"

"For the time being. Seems our little Buffy has been quite the
busy bee since she left Wesley. She's been apartment
hunting for a place of her own."

"Oh?"

"Yep. She's growing up, our Buffy," Xander grinned.

"Could you stop calling her ‘our' Buffy? She's not ‘our' Buffy,
she's. . . she's. . . "

"Your Buffy?" Xander asked with eyebrows raised.

"Guess I won't find out until I talk to her, will I?"



TBC.........please review.

Thanks guys so much for the reviews They meant a lot to me. I like to know what you're thinking. Thank you so, so much.:)

Chapter Sixteen

“Hey Willow,” Spike greeted the redhead warmly, and a little nervously.

Willow smiled wide. “Hi.”
Okay, good, she didn’t blame him for anything. “How are ya?” He asked, shuffling his feet.

Willow’s smile softened to one of knowing and understanding. “Buffy’s in her room. She’s been holed up in there for a while. I think she’s working on some new music. She’s been quite the writing demon lately.” Willow explained
as she stepped aside to let Spike in.

“Should I be here?” Spike asked, uncertain.

Willow nodded. “Why shouldn’t you be?”

“Well because of the whole Wesley thing. . .” He
trailed off, gesturing with his hand.

“You should talk to her. I know she’s missed
you a lot.”

Spike looked at Willow hopefully, “really?”

“Yes. Go talk to her. Go,” and she started to
shoo him.

“Down the hall on the right?”

“Yep.”

“Thanks Wills.”

Strolling down the hall, with his fists curled up
at his side, he felt nervous. How was it that Buffy Anne
Summers could reduce him to such adolescence after all
these years? The melodic sound of her guitar greeted him as
he got closer to her room. Not wanting to disturb her, he
listened. He knew if he wanted to know what was going on
in Buffy’s head, all he had to do was listen to her play. It was
the window to her soul. Her voice was strong and pure and
she strummed her song.





Can't you see?

There's a feeling that's come over me

Close my eyes

You're the only one that leaves me completely breathless


No need to wonder why

Sometimes a gift like this you can't deny



'Cause I wanted to fly,

so you gave me your wings

And time held its breath so I could see, yeah

And you set me free



There's a will

There's a way

Sometimes words just can't explain

This is real

I'm afraid

I guess this time there's just no hiding, fighting

You make me restless



You're in my heart

The only light that shines

there in the dark



'Cause I wanted to fly,

so you gave me your wings

And time held its breath so I could see, yeah

And you set me free



When I was alone

You came around

When I was down

You pulled me through

And there's nothing that

I wouldn't do for you



'Cause I wanted to fly,

so you gave me your wings

And time held its breath so I could see, yeah

And you set me free



As the last strings of the melody played out,
Spike found he couldn’t move. Was it about him? Was he the
one who gave her wings, or was it Wesley? Did she regret
leaving him? Is that why she hadn’t come to see him yet? Did
she blame him for this? He was so lost in his thoughts, he
didn’t even notice that Buffy had realized his presence until
she spoke.

“Are you going to stand there all night or are
you going to come in?”


He blinked and focused on her. Her hair pulled
back, face scrubbed free of make up and smiling slightly at
him, she looked at ease. A little sad around the edges, at yet,
there was aura of peace surrounding her.

“Hi Buffy,” he finally found his voice and
stepped into the room. He gestured to the door, silently asking

if he could shut it. She nodded her assent and he shut it.

He stood there awkwardly, looking about the
near empty room. Her things were scattered about in neat
piles.

“You’ve heard then,” she started, giving him no
time to ease into the conversation with pleasantries.

He nodded and sat down on the bed next to
her. For some reason sitting across the room from her in the
rickety looking chair didn’t see appropriate, despite the
circumstances. They’d been through too much to be apart
anymore.

“I’m sorry Buffy,” he told her.

“Are you?” She wasn’t accusing, merely
curious.

“I’m sorry if you’re hurt. I’m sorry if I was any
part of the reason you’re hurt. I did truly like Wesley. Well, I
did until the end there. But I did mean it when I said that I didn’t
want to come between you.”

“I know,” she said softly.

“Are you. . . are you hurt?”

“Yes and no. I’m sad that it’s over in the way
that you get sad when you part from someone that was such
a large part of your life, and in the way you get sad when
something that was good ends.”

“Then why did you leave him?”

“I figured it out you know,” she replied.

“What?”

“What you meant when you said you’d wait for
me. I didn’t get it then. I finally did. Took me a while, but I got it.
It’s funny how epiphanies can just hit you all of sudden isn’t
it?”

Spike chuckled, “I usually get hit with them on
the can.”

Buffy burst out laughing and Spike followed,
thankful for the ease in tension. He stopped suddenly and
took her hand. She looked up at him, waiting.

“Do you mean--?”

“Yes. I never stopped. I was just trying to do the
right thing, what I thought was right. I’m sorry it took me so
long to figure it out.”

“What made you realize it?”

“I missed you. Desperately missed you. Wesley
knew. . . said he always knew I belonged to you. It didn’t
seem so right anymore to stay with him when I wasn’t in love
with him.”

“Why didn’t you come to see me? Why didn’t
you tell me?”

“Once again, I didn’t think it was right. What was
I supposed to do? Walk up to you and say ‘I broke up with
Wesley, wanna get together?’ That didn’t seem a fair thing to
do. Plus, I needed some time to gather myself together and
figure out what I was going to do. I’m trying out this
independence thing. I’m standing on my own two feet. You
know, like you are.”

“You were before—“

“Not entirely. I was kind of hiding behind
Wesley. I let him be my guide, but I never really did it.”

“Does standing on your own two feet mean that
I still don’t get to have you?”

She looked up at him and leaned in, kissing him
softly. “You’ve always had me, Spike,” she whispered.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered back and
wrapped an arm around her, cradling her close.

“I’m scared. Aren’t you scared?”

“Yes, but. . . God, Buffy, I’ve waited so long for
you. And I don’t want to muck it up. After all the shit we’ve
been through we deserve a happy ending, don’t you think?”

“I agree completely. Do you want to start by
maybe going on a date?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said nearly breathlessly,
planting soft kisses on her face.

“I have a great idea for a first date,” she smiled
up at him.

“What’s that, love?” He asked, grinning back at
her upturned face.

“It’s your turn to help me find a place to live.”

He chuckled and agreed readily. “Anything you
want, Buffy, anything you want.”




TBC....so...we're nearing the end...what would you like to see happen?

**Song by Michele Branch, "You Set Me Free"

Chapter Seventeen


Spike was finding it hard to keep his hands to himself. He felt as if the there had been a dam building inside him ever since he and Buffy had been separated and now that they were – tentatively?—back together, all the love, passion and longing he'd felt her was bursting forth, saturating him with adoration for the tiny woman who had managed to steal his heart once again. Well, in all fairness, she'd always had it. He'd never stopped loving her. Not once.

It was encouraging to him that she was giggling like the school girl she was once was as he nibbled on her neck as he ducked them into the empty closet of the third apartment she'd drug him to.

"What about this one? Do you like this one?" He asked between nibbles and kisses.

"I think so," she said, halfway between a sigh and a moan.

He pulled back. "Really? I liked the first one."

She blinked up at him. "You really expect me to think when you're doing
that?"

He smirked, the patented smirk that she used to swoon over in high school
before they'd gotten together. It still got her, but now she wanted to give
him a taste of his own medicine. She leaned in and ran her tongue along his
bottom lip; he groaned and moved in, wanting more. She leaned back and
patted his behind. "I should probably see more than the closet," and she
bounced off, a spring in her step.

"You trying to kill me?" He almost whimpered as he followed her out.

She gave him a devilish smile.



A half hour later, Buffy was signing papers. She's glowing, Spike noted,
partially bent thinking that he didn't have anything to do with the huge
smile on her face as she talked to the realtor. Then she turned her big,
bright smile on him and he thought maybe he did somewhat at least. As
soon as the realtor walked out, congratulating her, Buffy jumped into
Spike's arms, legs wrapping around his waist and enveloping him in a huge
hug.

"I have keys! Keys to my very own place, Spike! Me, Buffy Summers has
her own place!" She exclaimed and he could feel her heart thundering
against him. He smiled wide, even though she had turned him down on his
offer to move in with him, he was happy for her. She'd explained to him
how important this was to her, and in the long run to them. She made no
bones about the fact that she wanted to be with him, but that she also
wanted to take it slow.

"I think this is cause for celebration. How about we christen it?"

Buffy pulled back, wide- eyed. "What do you mean?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean a picnic."

She blushed and giggled. "Okay."

Despite their teasing, innuendo's and making out every chance they had,
the sex act itself still produced a bit of fear for both of them. It loomed
ahead of them and although they knew they wanted each other,
desperately, fear held them at bay. That act had led to so much. . . it meant
so much. At that moment just being together was enough and a feat within
itself. Their relationship was so delicate still, to add pressure to it by
consummating it immediately, would just be overload.


"Can I ask you a question?" Buffy asked a few days later as they strolled
through the park hand in hand.

"You can ask me anything, Princess."

She smiled at that endearment. "Were you uh, with a lot of women?"

He darted a glance at her. "You mean have I been in love with anyone or
have I slept around?"

She chewed her bottom lip. "I guess both."

"Well, I can honestly say that I haven't been in love with anyone since you.
I've had relationships. . . if you can even call them that. No one fit though.
My choices left a lot to be desired. I dated a bunch of nameless, faceless
bimbo's. I had lots of sex and that was it. A lot of them latched on to me,
defined themselves by being with me and when I got tired of it, I moved on."

Buffy hadn't expected the answer to make her jealous. She figured she'd be
all right with it. They had a life after their relationship for crying out loud.
She didn't expect him to be a monk. She'd had Wesley after all. But Wesley
was just one. Spike had a harem. Therein lied the difference.

She pulled her hand from his grasp, under the pretense of sitting on the
swing. He studied her, head cocked to the side.

"Pet?"

"What?" she asked, starting to pump her legs.

"You all right?"

"Uh huh."

He walked over to her and grabbed her legs, stopping her. "Don't lie to me.
Not now. Not ever. What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You're jealous," he said as if he'd just figured it out. Stupid men.

"No," she said, still refusing to look at him.

He knelt before her. "Buffy. It was another life. I was a different man."

She looked at him and sighed. "I know. I have no right to be jealous. I just
am. It's stupid and I hate admitting it."


He smiled gently and reached out, caressing the side of her face. "I was
insanely jealous of Wesley."

She quirked an eyebrow, "You were?"

He nodded. "I respected your relationship with him, but it was hard at
times. Especially when I thought you left me."

She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Never," she whispered.

He gazed at her tenderly, cupping her face in his hands. "I love you. You
know that right?"

She nodded. "I love you too."

"Never leave each other again. No matter what, we fight, right?"

"Till death to us part," she murmured against his lips.

Song by Madonna. "I Deserve it" Left out one line in the song b/c I felt it didn't fit. . .


Chapter Eighteen
It'd been a month. A whole month of talking, connecting, moving, laughing.
A whole month of building up the sexual tension until they could barely stand next to each other without groping at the other like a couple of hormone-crazed teenagers. So, with that in mind Buffy had made the decision that tonight was the night. She knew Spike had been ready for a while now and was waiting for her. She loved him all the more for his patience with her. She knew at first they'd both been filled with trepidation on the idea of having sex – making love as Spike always referred to it as when speaking of them – but now he was ready. She could tell in the way his hands roamed just that much more, the way he started lustfully at her when they were in the middle of a makeout session and simply because he'd told her he was ready.

So, as she got ready for the bands gig, she planned that tonight would be
the night. After the show they'd go to her place to unwind and . . . well, she
actually didn't have a plan beyond that. Was that bad to not have a plan?
Shouldn't she have a plan for their first time after ten years? Cripes.

"You're thinking about something very hard." Spike, of course. He leaned
over her as she stared at herself in the mirror, pondering their evening post
show.

"Uh, just going over lyrics in my head."

"Sure you are. You'll do great kitten."

"My new manager has faith in me huh?" she grinned.

"All the faith in the world, sweetheart."

"Aren't you glad Wesley quit being the manager? Now you get to manage
your very own band."

"And enjoy the perks of being with the incredibly hot lead singer."

She laughed and stood wrapping her arms around him. "Love you."

"Love you more."

"How do you know that?"

"Take that one on faith too," he grinned.

She shook her head. "We love each other equally. Not one above the other."


"All right, fine. Have it your way."

She grinned, "Is there any other way?"

He chuckled and then patted her bum as he gave her a peck on the cheek.
"Let's go. Showtime."

She grinned and leaned in, taking his earlobe in her mouth and gently biting
it. "Spike."

"Yeah?" he practically squeeked as a shiver ran through him.

"Tonight's the night," and she slipped out of his arms, enjoying the rather
stunned and immobile Spike. It wasn't until she was nearly on the stage
that she heard him call her name in desperation. She smiled to herself and
grabbed her guitar.

Spike watched his girl sing her heart out and his own threatened to swell
with love and pride. She was such an incredible woman. All of her, the
complete package. God, how she'd grown up. He'd loved the young girl she
once was, and now he not only loved but adored and worshipped the
woman she'd become. She was right. Now they were equally matched. One
upon a time she'd hung on his every word and never thought she had
anything important to add. Now . . . now she spoke her mind and challenged
him at every turn just as he did her.

"And this one I wrote for my boyfriend. It's called ‘I Deserve It.'"

His eyes jumped to hers and she smiled shyly at him as she began to play.
Spike was riveted as the haunting simple melody began.

This guy was meant for me
And I was meant for him
This guy was dreamt for me
And I was dreamt for him



This guy has danced for me
And I have danced for him
This guy has cried for me
And I have cried for him

Many miles, many roads I have traveled
Fallen down on the way
Many hearts, many years have unraveled
Leading up to today

This guy has prayed for me
And I have prayed for him
This guy was made for me
And I was made for him

I have no regrets
There's nothing to forget

Not running from the past
I tried to do what's best
I know that I deserve it
And I thank you

Okay, he had tears in his eyes now. Truer words had never been sung. He watched her take her bow and leave the stage and he stood there for a minute, trying to gather himself back together. Not that she hadn't seen him cry since they'd been reunited . . .

"Buffy," he said, taking her hand and leading her away from the group. His
eyes misted again.

She hugged him. "Liked it?"

"Loved it. Love you. So much."

"I know, I love you too. Let's go back to my place huh? Let me show you
how much I love you."

He pulled away just enough to look her in the face. "Buffy, you don't have to
if you're not ready. You show me a zillion different ways that you love me,
you don't have to prove anything."

"I know, Spike, but I want to make with you. I'm ready."

He kissed her passionately, letting her feel how much he wanted her, loved
her and needed her. She reciprocated ten fold and he knew then that she
meant it. She was ready. They were BOTH ready.

Entering the house, Buffy flicked on the light and dimmed it as Spike pulled
her back against his chest, nuzzling her neck and shoulder. She could feel
his erection pressing against her ass and she moaned as she leaned back,
allowing him easier access. The ride home had been, well, interesting. She
drove him to distraction; she knew that for a fact because he'd nearly
swerved off the road. She'd nibbled on his ear and left hot, open mouth
kisses on his neck as he'd drove them to her home. At red lights, he
devoured her lips with his. She knew she could touch him where his body
demanded it most, she'd seen him nearly popping out of his jeans, but she
didn't. She wanted him aching for it by the time they'd made it home.
Wiggling against him, she could feel that her mission had been
accomplished. Not that she wasn't aching herself. She was a mass of desire
for him. She couldn't wait to feel his hard body surrounding her. She
wanted to become reacquainted with the man he'd become in the worst
way . . .

"Buffy, you're driving me crazy," he moaned as he spun her around to face
him, jutting his hips forward and nesting himself between her legs.

She moaned, feeling her panties soak even more with longing. "Upstairs,"
she told him breathlessly and took his hand, running up the stairs with him.


As soon as they reached her bedroom, he took control, hauling her up
against him and kissing her hotly, tongue dueling and hands stroking. When
her knees hit the back of the bed, she fell back and took him with her; the
feel of his body on top of hers was exquisite. It brought her back to the first
time. She remembered feeling like the luckiest girl alive. Some things never
changed.

"Want to taste you," he murmured, lifting her shirt. He leaned down and
kissed her belly button, trailing his tongue around it. She was going to help
him discard her shirt, but he left her trembling with his tongue on her.
"Taste like sugar," he whispered and hummed as he helped her get rid of
the shirt. He fell to his side and gazed at her, letting his hand cup her bra
covered breast and watching it fill his hand. He smoothed his hand across
the top of her breasts and brushed against her nipples which were hard and
aching for him. She gasped and shuddered. Leaning over her he peppered
the tops of her breasts with kisses while simultaneously unfastening her
bra and discarding it. He stared at her breasts and cupped them with both
hands. "Beautiful," he murmured and closed his mouth over one, swiping
his tongue back and forth starting at the base and then landing over the
nipple, swiping as a cat would lick milk out of a bowl. She was ready to cum
just from that. He lavished attention to her other breast and Buffy dug her
fingers in his skull, feeling the silkiness of his hair thread through her
fingers. Trailing kisses back up to her mouth, he kissed her sweetly.

"Shirt, off," she gasped and yanked at his shirt, pulling it out of the confines
of his snug jeans. Off came the shirt and his torso, his perfectly sculpted,
David-come-to-life chest was revealed to her. Hungrily she leaned up as he
rested on his heels and lavished the same attention to his nipples that he
had done for her. Then trailed down to his stomach which clenched under
her adventurous tongue. Tangling his hands in her hair, he pulled her back
to claim her mouth with his.

Pushing her back on the bed, he set to work on taking off her pants and
panties. He did so with achingly slow tenderness that left her wondering if
he was taking inventory on every part of her body as he went. There
wasn't a part of her he didn't touch with reverence. Not a spot he didn't kiss
with his mouth. He reared up, gazing at her fully naked body.

"You're so incredibly beautiful Buffy," he stroked her skin with his fingers,
starting at her collar and made the path down to her legs. "You were made
for me. I was made for you."

"We were made for each other," she told him on a whisper.

"Never be apart again. You're my girl forever, yeah?"

She nodded.

"Say it."

"Forever."

"Mine."

"Yours," she agreed.

Scooting himself nearly off the bed, he laid on his stomach and nibbled on
the insides of her thighs.

"Oh, God, Spike," she moaned, jutting her hips forward, wanting his mouth
on her pussy.

He licked her slit from bottom to top in one smooth motion, causing her to
spasm from the contact. She was gripping the bed spread in her fists.
"Please," she whimpered.

Spreading her lips, he swished his tongue back and forth inside her and
then stabbed at her clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Oh my God," she groaned.

"Taste so good Buffy," he told her on a hum and that sent shockwaves to
her system. "Like honey," he whispered.

"Spike," she gasped. "Oh god, that feels so. . . "

"Mmmm…" and he sucked her clit in his mouth hard.

She saw stars, her body quaked and she gripped the bed spread hard as
she came in his mouth. He lapped up what she gave, practically purring as
he did.

When she had control of her breathing, she grabbed at him, wanting him
closer. He crawled up her body, kissing each part as he went, worshipping
her. When he finally reached her mouth, she crushed hers against his,
tasting herself. With a growl, she flipped him onto his back and straddled
him, her core coating his weeping cock. His eyes widened and he sought to
move so they could finally join.

She had other ideas.

Kneeling between his legs she took him in, drinking him with her eyes. He
was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen and would ever see in her life.
Leaning forward just a touch, she spread her hands wide across the
expanse of his chest and slid them down, over his nipples, across his
stomach.

"Buffy," he rasped, watching her with nearly black eyes.

She grinned and took his cock in her hand, watching him. His eyes widened
and then fluttered shut. "God, Buffy," he groaned.

Leaning down, she licked the slit with her tongue and was pleased when she
heard his gasp. Taking him in her mouth she slid her tongue from side to
side as she worked back up his length, swirling her tongue around the head.


"Christ!" he shouted, his hips bucking, sending his cock further inside her
mouth. She sucked at the head and he was up in a shot, pushing her gently
away, pulling her up and rolling her back onto her back. "Wrap your legs
around me," he demanded huskily.

She did so, amazed by her ability to make him lose control so quickly.

"Want to be inside you when I cum, Buffy. Waited so long to be with my girl
again, I don't want to miss a moment."

He slid inside her so slow she was ready to roll him onto his back and
impale herself on him. When he was finally seated within her, she was
surprised by the orgasm that rocked her body. She watched him, the
intense look on his face as he tried to reign in his own orgasm. Gently, he
started to move as her walls started to flutter less around him.

She needed him, all of him and she spread her hands on his back, pulling
him even closer. She was sure that if his whole body was inside her, it
wouldn't be close enough.

Their eyes met and simultaneously they welled up in tears. Tears of joy.

"I love you so much," they said at the same time.

"I've loved you forever Buffy. So lost without you . . ." he told her, his voice
full of raw emotion.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, words escaping her, her emotions
and the sensations in her body overcoming her. He sought her mouth
desperately as they rocked together. When he started to move faster
within her, she knew he was getting ready. Gliding his hand between them,
he rubbed at her clit, wanting her to cum with him.

She hissed and shuddered, pleasure coiling inside her . . . reaching. . .
reaching. . . until. .

"Spike!" she yelled his name, coming all around him, shaking from it.

"Buffy!" he shouted her name, coming hard inside her, tremors of pleasure
shaking him.

They rocked against each other, riding out their pleasure as the
shockwaves petered out. Moving to their sides, Spike stayed within her, not
wanting to ever be apart from her again. They gazed at each other,

caressed each other and kissed each other, murmuring their love. In each
others arms, they'd found their true home.

Epilogue

Epilogue

Three years later

"Auuggggggghhhhhhh!"

"Breathe baby, breathe."

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do!"

"Buffy—"

"If you're going to say anything remotely encouraging and supportive then
I suggest you get the hell out of the room RIGHT NOW!"

"Isn't there anything you can give her? This isn't my wife. It's Linda Blair."

Spike and Buffy sat in their cushy living room, formerly just Spike's home,
watching the video he made of the birth of their son, Justin William Reeves.
For some odd reason Buffy had the urge to see the video. Probably because
Justin was a year and growing so fast it made Buffy's heart ache to
remember how small he used to be. Spike had suggested she just look at old
photo's instead of the tape, but she had insisted on the tape.

"I didn't do that, did I?" she asked, horrified.

Spike nodded, "you did. Emasculated me, you did."

"I remember that I was in pain, I just don't remember how much. I
suppose that's what makes some women go back for more."

"Or they figure out there are drugs to be had."

Buffy nodded. "Good point. Epidural next time, I'm thinking."

Spike smiled. "So you still want more after seeing that?"

"Do you?"

"Buffy, I want a village. You know this."

She giggled and then stopped suddenly. Jumping up, she ran from the
room. Spike started after, startled. "Buffy?" Then he heard it. Justin was
crying. He found her in Justin's room – with the original Winnie the Pooh
theme all over the walls – taking a whimpering Justin out of his crib.

"All done with your nap, honey?" Buffy cooed gently at the tiny baby with
the light brown mop of curls and eyes as blue and sparkling as his fathers.
Justin curled up against Buffy, peering over her shoulder as she carried him
from the room at his father who followed the pair and made funny faces at
his son, trying to get him to laugh. Which he did, beaming at his father and
belly laughing. He reached for Spike and Buffy smiled, turning and
relinquishing Justin to Spike.

Walking into the kitchen, Spike went for the fridge to grab Justin his sippy
cup.

"You made sure you only filled that half with juice and the rest with water
right?" Buffy asked as she went to find the vanilla wafers from Gerber
Justin liked so much.

Spike rolled his eyes, "yes dear."

"You know what? I think you've been hanging out with Xander and Anya
too much. I don't nag like she does. I don't need the ‘yes dear.'" She paused
and then looked at him worriedly. "Do I?"

Spike chuckled and strapped Justin into high chair. "No, dear."

Buffy swatted him playfully and crumbled up the wafers on the tray. Justin
grabbed at them and his juice simultaneously.

Buffy giggled as Justin sucked on his sippy cup whilst holding onto the
wafers in his hand for dear life.

"So, pet. You're off for the summer in a couple weeks, yeah?" Spike asked
as he sat down at the kitchen table, next to his son.

"Yup. Where are we going to go for vacation this summer? When do you
have off? I was thinking we could take Justin somewhere fun."

"As opposed to somewhere boring."

She stuck her tongue out at her husband.

"How bout if we took him to his pops hometown?"

Buffy wrinkled her forehead. "Sunnydale? Spike, I try not to see my
parents very much."

"Buffy, go look under the iron in the closet."

She looked at him as if he were nuts. "Under the IRON?"

"It's a surprise and the one thing you don't do in the house is iron so I
figured it'd be safe."

"All right . . . "

Spike looked over at Justin who was smiling at his daddy. "She's gonna love
it Justin. So will you. Been wanting to take you to—"

"LONDON!!!"

"—For a long time."

Buffy came tearing into the kitchen, flushed, eyes wide and clutching the
tickets in her hand. "Are you serious? We're going to London?"

Spike nodded slowly and stood. "Yup."

Buffy squealed and launched herself in Spike's arms. "Yay!! Hear that
Justin? Daddy's taking us to London!!"

Justin babbled happily and then went back to munching on his wafers.

Buffy pulled back enough to plant a big kiss on Spike's lips.

"Been a long time coming that trip, don't you think?" Spike whispered.

"Roaring fire, right?"

Spike nodded slowly. "I keep my promises and I promised you. Sorry I was
so late."

"Doesn't matter how late we were. Just matters that we've made it."

Spike leaned in, and brushed his lips against hers. "Till death to us part."

Thank you so much to all of you who reviewed! I know it was tough at times to read and I thank you very much for sticking with it. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!