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Chapter Seventeen



Buffy made her way to the door of her suite, annoyed that she’d been disturbed from her afternoon nap. "Dawn, you better not have forgotten your key!" she called. When she opened the door, she saw the last person she’d expected to see. "Spike!?"

"Hello," he greeted curtly.

Buffy stood in shock for a moment before realizing he was still standing out in the hall and invited him in. "I’m glad you came back," she started. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Didn’t come to see you," he told her quickly. "Wanted to see my daughter."

"Oh." Buffy rubbed her face which was probably creased from sleep, and tried to hide her disappointment. She turned away from him and headed towards her daughter. Sarah was seated Indian-style in front of the television.

Spike couldn’t make out what Buffy was saying to her daughter, their daughter, but when Buffy was done she motioned for Spike to join them.

"Sweetie, you remember mommy’s friend, Spike, right?" Buffy asked her daughter softly.

Sarah looked up and smiled at Spike. "Hi."

Spike crouched down to sit next to Sarah on the floor. He barely noticed when Buffy retreated to the other side of the room to give them privacy, he was too busy gazing down at his daughter. The more he thought of her as his child, the more comfortable he became with the idea.

"What were you doing?"

"Watching Dora the Explorer," she answered. "If you’re mommy’s friend, why don’t you want to play with her?"

Spike chuckled. "Because I heard you were much more fun to play with than mommy."

Sarah smiled again. "Wanna color?"

Spike watched as Sarah got up and walked over to the coffee table piled with coloring books and crayons. She carefully picked out one and moved over to the larger table in the center of the room. Spike rose from his seat on the floor and followed her.

"You can help me color this one," Sarah told him when he was seated next to her at the table. The picture was of a little girl and a dog. Sarah started coloring the girl’s hair yellow. "I asked Mommy to get me a doggie for my birthday. Mommy says I can’t have one, but I love doggies." She continued her conversation about ‘doggies’ and Spike just listened and colored.



Spike ended his time in the suite by promising Sarah they’d have more play dates and by barely saying goodbye to Buffy. Buffy had looked so sad when he’d left he’d almost given in and forgiven her. But then he looked at the beautiful daughter that she'd kept a secret from him for so long, and couldn’t.

Now outside the hotel, he searched inside his jean pocket for his cigarettes. Finally finding the pack, he lifted one to his lips and lit it needing it after such stressful two days.

"Don’t you think you should quit now that you have a three year old looking up to you?"

Spike sighed heavily. He’d thought he’d gotten away from all the Summers women. "Hadn’t really had much time to think about it." Spike moved away from the entrance to sit on the curb.

Dawn followed him. "She’s had a hard time, you know."

"Actually I wouldn’t know," he retorted.

Dawn ignored his hostile tone. "Buffy went through a lot during her pregnancy. She had to drop out of school, get a full time job for as long as she could." Dawn laughed bitterly. "I even tried to get a job to help her out, but I was only twelve."

Spike moved his gaze from the old bubble gum he’d been staring at to the teenager beside him. Her tone really made him want to hug her.

"And things only got worse after she had Sarah," Dawn continued. "Mom started having the migraines again. About a year after Sarah was born, our Mom died."

Involuntarily, Spike lifted his hand and placed it comfortingly on Dawn’s shoulder. She gave him a small smile. If Spike didn’t know any better, he’d think that he was actually starting to like this meddlesome teenager.

"Did you ever try to find Buffy?" Dawn asked. "After she left?"



Two days after Buffy had left that message on Spike’s voicemail, he was still trying to contact her. Every time he’d called her cell phone he’d been connected straight to her answering service, letting him know that her phone was turned off. Every time until now.

Instead of hearing Buffy, however, he was greeted by someone with a much deeper voice.

"Hi, uh, can I speak to Buffy?" Spike asked, crossing his fingers that he hadn’t called the wrong number.

"Buffy’s gone back home," the man answered. "She won’t have this phone anymore."

"I really need to speak to her." Spike hated hearing the desperation in his voice.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I’m sorry, but she can’t be reached through this phone. It’s being disconnected tomorrow. Please don’t call back."

Spike barely had time to register what he’d been told before he heard a ‘click’ signaling that the other person had hung up.



"That was your dad?!"

Dawn laughed. "Duh, Einstein."

"No wonder the voice sounded so familiar," Spike mused before getting back to his story.



"Buffy Summers," Spike repeated for what felt like the millionth time. "S-U-M-M-E-R-S."

The woman in front of the computer took a deep breath. "I’m sorry, sir. But there are no records of a Buffy Summers on this campus. The only listing I have here is for a Robert Summers."

Spike felt like banging his head against the counter he was leaning against. The first thing Spike had done when he’d arrived in Sunnydale was to look Buffy up in the phone book. There was one Summers listed in Sunnydale, but it proved to be an old man who lived alone. After searching the town for her, which he should have known from previous efforts was fruitless, he’d made his way to UC Sunnydale where she’d told him she attended. Spike wasn’t one to give up easily, but it seemed like he would never find her.



Spike stared at Dawn in confusion as she burst out into peals of laughter. "What?!" he asked, ofended.

"No-nothing," she responded through giggles. "I just think you should talk to Buffy."

Spike shook his head stubbornly. "Not likely to happen."

"Trust me, Spike," Dawn told him solemnly. "You’re going to want to hear what she has to say."



Buffy was just about to call Dawn’s cell phone to find out where she was, when there was a knock at the door. "Spike?" Buffy questioned for the second time that day. "Did you leave something?"

Spike shook his head, moving past her into the room. Buffy remained silent as she closed the door and faced him. After many minutes of silence, Buffy had to ask, "What is it Spike?"

"We need to talk," he said finally.

"Okay, sure."

"Mommy," Sarah called as she entered the room from one of the bedrooms. "I’m hungry." She walked past them into the kitchen, noticing Spike. "Hi, Daddy."

Spike’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Buffy fought the urge to laugh at him, but couldn’t hide her smile. Spike kept looking back and forth between Buffy and Sarah, not sure what to say even if he could speak. "You told her?" he breathed.

"Well, yeah," Buffy replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She joined Sarah in the kitchen. "Why don’t you pour yourself a drink while I make her dinner?"

Spike eagerly headed to the mini bar, immediately pulling out the nearest small bottle of whiskey and draining it.

Buffy quickly prepared a microwave dinner, setting the macaroni and cheese in front of Sarah at the kitchen table when it was done.

Spike had many more empty little bottles in front of him by the time Buffy rejoined him. "We should wait until she’s in bed," Buffy said looking at the clock. "You can tuck her in if you want."



"Goodnight, Princess," Spike called softly into Sarah’s room before closing the door.

"Goodnight, Spike!" Dawn singsonged from behind him, causing him to jump slightly.

Spike glared at her. "Wasn’t talking to you."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "I figured that," she replied with a smirk. "I’m going to bed, too." She faked a huge yawn for emphasis. "Long day, really tired."

Spike found Buffy sitting in the same spot he’d left her over an hour ago. When he’d agreed to tuck Sarah in, he’d thought he would do just that. Instead, Sarah had gotten him to read her four stories, check under her bed and in her closet for monsters, and leave her nightlight on.

"Quite a handful isn’t she?" Buffy joked when he returned.

"Which one?"

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh. "Dawn hasn’t been in the hotel room this early the whole time we’ve been here," she told him. "Which means she wants to give us some privacy, but listen through the door to what we’re saying."

Spike grinned. "Clever girl."

"It runs in the family."

Spike had to agree with that. "So, the talking," he started, turning the conversation serious.

"Yeah, that. You came back, so I guess that means you had something on your mind."

Yeah, Dawn’s words replaying over and over. "Did you ever come back to L.A.?" he asked. "Ever try to tell me about Sarah?"

Buffy’s eyes started filling with tears.



"Yes, Mom, she’s with Dad. I’m going to visit Faith." Buffy paused. "Mom! Of course I trust him! He raised me and Dawnie didn’t he?" Buffy listened to her mother’s ranting. "Okay, Mom I really don’t have time to get into this right now. I’ll call you later."

Buffy hung up the phone and stared at the familiar building in front of her. She hadn’t seen it in a year and a half, but it still looked exactly the same. She pressed the button to the apartment she had come to know so well, not bothering to look for Spike’s name.

As Buffy waited for an answer, one of the other tenants exited the building, holding the door open for her to enter. She made her way up the stairs to the third floor. Even the smell of the building was the same.

When she finally reached Spike’s door, she hesitated. She’d played out their reunion in her head a million times, and each time they ended up together. Maybe that had just been wishful thinking.

Before she could back out, she knocked loudly on the door. To her surprise an older woman answered the door. "Can I help you?" the woman asked.

Buffy stared at her in confusion before finding her voice. "Um, I’m looking for Spike, uh, William," she stammered. "Is he here?"

The woman shook her head. "No, whoever lived here before us got kicked out a year ago."

Buffy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She’d been so close. "Do you know where he moved to?"

The woman shook her head again. "I’m sorry, sweetie, but they never told us his name or where he went." She closed the door, leaving Buffy standing there for a moment in shock, before she slowly turned round to leave.

When Buffy reached the bottom of the stairs again, she collapsed onto her knees, her face in her hands. She couldn’t bring herself to stand up again and walk to her dad’s. All she could do was cry.





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