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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks everyone :) Glad you're liking it.
Chapter Two


Spike never told Anya this, but he'd felt a pull towards Buffy Summers - Doyle from the moment Anya had told him about her. He knew something of loss and grief, in fact, he knew a lot about it having lost both his parents to carbon monoxide poisoning when he was fourteen. He'd been staying at a friend's house down the street that night and he'd come home the following afternoon to find both his parents dead in their bed, limbs wrapped around each other in their final rest.

Yeah, he knew something about grief.

It was why his heart constricted in his chest - something that under normal circumstances would have been cause for alarm seeing as how his heart was only a year old - at the sight of the pretty young woman sitting cross-legged on the floor of her attic, sobbing as if they'd just put her husband in the ground that day. He understood all too well how you could be fine one minute and then lose it the next.

Seemed his old heart was proof positive of that as well.

When she looked up at him, her green eyes brimming over with tears, he'd nearly gasped. He thought "My but she's so young to have been through so much." And beautiful. Buffy Summers-Doyle was beautiful.

Anya had warned him coming in that she was still very much the grieving widow and to be careful what he said around her. That had annoyed him. What was he? Some insensitive prat that would be prodding her with questions about her late husband? What would he say "So, Buffy, tell me about how you found his body at the accident. Or, what was it like to hear his voice on the phone as he was actually getting in the accident?" As if. He knew that while Anya could be a supportive bird, she could also be a clueless one as well.

Spike knew the last thing Buffy probably wanted was to be treated with kid gloves. The worst thing was to have people treat you as if you were fragile and would break at any moment even when you felt as though you would.
What Spike wanted to do when he saw her there, was gather her up in his own arms and tell her he understood and that it was okay to cry. You had to cry. You had to let the demons out somehow. Otherwise they stayed in you like caged animals, clawing for escape. People had a tendency though to make you stop when you started, and that was unfair. Catharsis was all part of the process.

She'd put on a brave face, Buffy did, as she stood and introduced herself, apologizing to him for having lost it. He didn't want her apologies for that. He wanted her to know he understood; and, he hoped he had. When their eyes had met he'd sent her the message, hoping she'd gotten it.

Now he stood outside, setting up the grill as his girlfriend 'got Buffy ready' for the barbecue. He checked his watch; he needed to take his meds soon. As a heart transplant survivor it was imperative to take your meds at the same time every day religiously. He did not want his body to reject the heart inside him. He had a life to live, goals to make, and a future to look forward to; he did not want to jeopardize any of that.

"Do you need some help?"

Looking over his shoulder he found a dusted off and free of tears Buffy standing on the deck before him. She had changed, no doubt Anya's doing, into khaki capri's and a simple green t-shirt, which made her eyes stand out brilliantly.

"I think I can figure it out," he told her, smiling.

"Anya's inside getting the food ready on trays and stuff. Everyone else should be arriving in a half hour or so." She came over to him, her eyes on the grill and frowned, "Now, you'd think I'd know how to use it considering how my husband loved to grill, but I'm clueless."

"Well, if he loved to grill then he did all the grilling didn't he?" Spike countered.

Buffy smiled, "Yes, but he did try and teach me. I was just never very good at it. Honestly, it intimidates me."

Spike chuckled, "Why?"

"Anything I don't know intimidates me."

"I hope I don't intimidate you."

She looked at him funny.

"Well, you don't know me," he explained.

She smiled, a genuine smile, and Spike was pleased to see it. "I know a little bit about you from Anya. But yes, you are still a little intimidating."

"So, you're shy huh?"

"Very. Doyle was - sorry," she said, shaking her head. "You probably don't need to listen to the widow go on and on about her late husband, do you?"

He placed a hand on her forearm in a manner that he hoped was comforting and not creepy. "I don't mind Buffy. You can tell me anything you want about him. He might be gone, but he's still alive in your heart where it counts. It helps to talk about those that have passed. It keeps them around. Helps you not to forget what they meant to you." He took his hand off her and waited to see what she'd do. He hoped she didn't cry, but understood if she had to.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, "Yes, you're exactly right. That's why I . . . That's why I lost it today. I was afraid that I would forget. It'd been so long since I'd allowed myself to go up there with his things."

"You won't forget, Buffy. You loved him."

She nodded slowly, looking down. Looking back up at him she asked, "Have you ever lost someone?"

He nodded, taking a deep breath, "Yeah, my parents when I was fourteen."

Her eyes widened, "Oh God, what happened?"

"Carbon monoxide poisoning."

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

He gave her a soft, understanding smile, "Thanks."

"I lost my mom just before I married Doyle."

Now his eyes widened. "What happened?"

"Aneurysm. My aunt found her on the couch with her eyes open."

"Jesus, Buffy, I'm sorry."

"Part of life, right? That's what everyone likes to tell me."

He shook his head, "Fuck that. I hate being told that. It doesn't make you feel any better, just makes you angrier."

She nodded, "My personal favorite is 'they're in a better place'."

He nodded earnestly, "You want to tell them 'I don't want them in a better place, I want them with me!'"

She laughed, a true laugh, and Spike beamed at the sound.

She dug her hands in her pockets, "Well, I should help Anya. Thanks, Spike."

He grinned, "Anytime."

"I'll be sure to tell Anya I approve," she teased cheekily and he chuckled.

************
Buffy listened on as her little group of friends chatted and joked and coupled off - Anya leaning her head on Spike's shoulder and their friend Xander holding Willow's hand. It was at gatherings like this that Doyle would tell them an Irish limerick and take the stage so to speak. And she was his biggest fan. Seeing her friends all coupled off made her realize how very alone she felt.

Looking down at her watch, she frowned. Faith should have been there a half hour ago. She hoped her 'little sister' hadn't forgotten. Or, that she hadn't gotten-stop, Buffy. Stop that train of thought right now. Life would not be that cruel.

Ha. Yeah, it would.

Getting up, she discreetly made her way into the house to call Faith. Reaching for the phone she jumped a mile when she heard "Buffy?" behind her.

She spun to see Spike standing there, looking at her with concern. "You all right?" he asked her.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. My sister - in - law was supposed to have been here a half hour ago and I was just getting a little worried."

He nodded, "Gotcha."

"Why? Did I look upset?" she asked, frowning. She had gotten better at letting every emotion pass on her face. At least, she thought she had.

"A little," he said truthfully.

"Oh," she said, not sure what to make of that.

"I don't think anyone else noticed."

"But you did?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged, "I was paying attention."

She wasn't sure what to make of that, but then she didn't have to ask why he was paying attention because a loud female voice boomed into the kitchen, "Hey B, who's the hottie?"

Buffy smiled. Faith had arrived.





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