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When Spike woke up again, the sun was beginning to sink over the horizon. He smiled to himself as he remembered the last thing he'd seen before he'd fallen asleep. Buffy… She'd put him to bed and cleaned off a cut he didn't even remember getting.

She'd told him she didn't want him around, but her actions said otherwise. Husband or no, he wasn't leaving until he got something from her, even if it was just an acknowledgement that he'd meant something to her in the past.

Spike waited for the sun to go down before going back to the truck stop, hoping he'd find Buffy there.

*** *** ***

Spike frowned as he surveyed the small restaurant. No Buffy. He frowned harder when he saw that other waitress from the night before coming towards him. He really was not in the mood for this.

"Can I help you, hon?" she asked, giving him a coy smile.

"Is Buffy working tonight, uh, Cindy?" Spike asked, reading her name tag.

"She's not supposed to come in until later."

"Later when?"

Cindy ran her fingers down Spike's arm. "Why does it matter? I'm here now."

Spike stepped back. "I really just wanted to talk to Buffy."

Cindy pouted. "She won't be in until ten."

"I'll come back then."

Cindy grabbed his shoulder. "Are you really sure you want to leave now, handsome. I got a break comin' up…"

Spike glared, pulling his arm away from her. "Yes." He pointed to a table of people. "Go back to work."

Cindy pouted. "Fine. But Buffy isn't interested. She told me so last night. Said she never cared one bit about you."

Spike started to give the woman a piece of his mind when he realized that that would probably lead to having to hear her talk more. He settled for giving her a warning look before leaving.

A brunette walked up behind Cindy, crossing her arms in front of her as she watched Spike leave. "He's proving to be rather troublesome."

Cindy nodded. "Clint said he would already be gone."

"Hopefully he will be soon. He can't be allowed to ruin everything."

"And if he doesn't leave?"

The brunette smiled slowly. "Then he can be…persuaded."

*** *** ***

"Evenin', pet."

Buffy jumped, turning around to see Spike leaning against the alley wall. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you. The blonde in there said your shift started at ten."

"Yeah, it does. I need to get inside."

"You still got a few minutes," Spike said. "Let me talk to you for a moment."

"I don't want to talk to you, Spike," Buffy said. "I don't want you here. I want to stay away from you."

Spike shrugged. "What's new? Look, I'm not here to try anything. It's just…it's been a long time, Buffy."

"I don't want you here. I want to stay away from you."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "You already said that."

Buffy turned away. "Please, just leave."

"Buffy, come on. Just talk to me for a moment. I want to know how you've been."

"I'm fine," Buffy said. "Happily married and everything."

"I noticed."

"Can I go to work now?"

Spike sighed. "Buffy… Look, I haven't seen you, or any of the Sunnydale gang for that matter, in five years, and contrary to what you might believe, I've wondered about you—all of you." Buffy stared at him for a moment, and Spike asked. "How's the nibblet?"

"Huh?"

"Dawn."

"Oh. Right. Dawn and I don't talk anymore."

Spike frowned. "You don't talk to your sister anymore? Since when?"

"Since Clint and I got married. He said he didn't want any family baggage messing up our life together, and I agree completely."

Spike didn't like the sound of that. Buffy had once thrown herself off a tower to save her sister, and now she wasn't talking to her because her husband said so? It didn't add up. "How long has it been since you talked to her?"

"Clint and I have been married almost a year now, so about that long.

"And you're never going to talk to her again?" Spike asked uncertainly.

"No. I'm not going to talk to any of them. They would distract from my new life. Look, Spike, it's been sort of nice to see you, but I don't want you here and…"

"You want to stay away from me," Spike finished for her. "Yeah, I got it. I'm gonna just…go back to the motel."

"And leave tonight?" Buffy asked hopefully.

"Maybe…" Spike said, backing away. Something wasn't right here, and he wasn't about to leave Buffy until he knew what it was. "See you around, pet."

"Good bye, Spike." Buffy walked into the building.

Spike headed back to the motel. He needed to come up with something that could help him get to the bottom of things.

*** *** ***

Spike went straight to the phone. He had to get in touch with some of Buffy's old friends, had to find out when the last time she'd spoken to any of them was. Maybe they could help him figure out what was going on.

He froze as he picked up the receiver. He had no clue how to reach a single one of them, not even Angel. He frowned, realizing he wasn't even sure what country any of them were in these days. Before the near-end-of-the-world in L.A., Dawn and Buffy had been living in Rome. Was Dawn there now?

Spike knew what he had to do. Buffy said she hadn't spoken to any of her friends in a year, but did that mean she'd gotten rid of anyway to contact them?

He'd noticed an add-on to the back of the motel that he assumed was where Buffy and her husband lived. If he could sneak back there, possibly he could find some way of getting in contact with someone who could shine some light on the current situation. He left the motel room, taking a quick glance to make sure that Clint was still at the front desk before going around to the back. Deciding to choose time over stealth, he broke a window, reaching in through the shattered pane to unlock the window and then push it open. If it turned out he was just paranoid, well, Buffy could beat him up for it later.

He didn't risk turning on a light, his vampiric senses allowing him to see well enough in the dark. He crept into the bedroom, going to a desk near the closet. He opened the drawers, searching for something that might tell him what he needed, possibly an address book.

"Care to tell me why you're snooping around my bedroom?"

Spike turned around, coming face to face with Clint. "Lookin' for a lighter?" he offered.

Clint glared. "How dumb do you think I am, punk?"

"Um, I was going with fairly, bordering on really. Thanks for asking."

"Look, I don't know what you're tryin' to pull, but Buffy is my woman now, so you best just stay away."

Spike groaned inwardly. Was this guy going to start beating his chest in a moment? What was with Buffy and the Cro-Magnon types? "Look, I'm not here for Buffy."

Clint crossed his arms. "Then why are you here, Stick was it?"

"Spike," Spike snapped. "I was here because…you wouldn't by any chance know how to contact Buffy's sister, Dawn, would you?"

"Buffy ain't got no sister."

"Uh, yes, she does. Bit taller than Buffy, long brown hair. Talks a lot. Dawn."

"I know who you mean, but she' ain't Buffy's sister. Not anymore. Buffy doesn't need anyone but me."

"Well, you're a right possessive bastard, now aren't you," Spike said, glaring at Clint. He didn't like the idea of someone taking Buffy away from Dawn. The bit had lost enough as it was.

Clint grabbed Spike by the collar, shoving him against the wall. "Yes, I am. And you stay the hell away from my wife, or I'll hurt you somethin' awful." Clint dropped Spike, then punched him hard in the stomach.

That was it for Spike. He switched to his game face, grabbing Clint and reversing their positions, holding him against the wall. "Look, you git, I know something's not right here, and I know you have something to do with it. What's happened to Buffy?"

Spike expected Clint to cower in fear at the sight of a vampire staring down at him. Instead, he just smirked, then reached up, grabbing Spike's arm and wrenching it behind his back almost hard enough to snap it. Spike called out in surprise and pain. He looked up to see Clint suddenly growing larger, her appearance changing to one decidedly demonic. Spike groaned. "Bloody hell…"

Suddenly, Spike felt a sharp blow to the back of his head and everything went black.

Clint fixed his demonic gaze on Spike's limp body for a moment before looking up at the brunette woman who stood over him. "What shall we do with the vampire?"

"Take him back to his room for now."

"What about the Slayer? He will tell her what has transpired here."

The brunette waved her hand. "She will not believe him. You will see to that."

"Yes, I will."

"The vampire will be gone soon," the brunette said. "And if not, well, I shall deal with it."

Clint nodded, then hoisted Spike over his shoulder and carried him out of the apartment.

*** *** ***

Spike woke with a pounding headache. He looked around his motel room to find it in disarray again, several empty Jack Daniels bottles scattered around. "I didn't drink last night…did I?" he said, surveying the room.

The previous night was a bit hazy, but he was fairly positive he remembered Buffy's new husband being a demon. He decided Clint must have arranged the room the way it was, tried to make it look like it had all been a drunken hallucination. But Spike knew better. He was well versed in the difference between the type of headache caused by a hangover and the kind caused by a sharp blow to the skull, and this was definitely the latter. He knew it was daylight, but he didn't care. He had to get to Buffy. She had to know what was going on before it was too late.

Spike ripped the comforter off the bed and ran out the motel room. He saw Clint dozing at the front desk and decided to look for Buffy in the apartment. He kicked the door without preamble, calling her name as he entered the small dwelling.

Buffy came out of the bedroom simultaneously rubbing her eyes and trying to smooth down her hair. "Spike! What are doing here?"

"We have to get out of here," Spike said, taking hold of her arms. "Clint…he's not what you think."

"Spike, what are you going on about?"

"He's a demon, Buffy. A right big ugly one, too."

"Spike, have you been drinking again?"

"No!"

"You smell like you have."

Spike sighed. "Look, when I woke up this morning there were empty bottles in the room, and I think some of it got poured on me, too. But I didn't drink it. I came here last night, ran into your husband, he turned into a demon, and someone clunked me on the head from behind. I came straight to you as soon as I could."

"Look, Spike, I know you're jealous, but this is ridiculous."

"I'm not bloody jealous!" Buffy raised an eyebrow, and Spike sighed. "Okay, maybe I am, but that's not why I'm saying this. I know what happened last night, Buffy!"

Buffy pulled away from him, putting her hands on her hips. "Yeah, and so do I. You got upset when I turned you away at my work, you got drunk—again—and passed out. Somewhere during all that you either hallucinated or fabricated this whole thing about Clint being a demon."

"No! Buffy, I swear, that isn't what happened! I was here, last night. You…you have a desk in your bedroom. Cherry wood, with a stack of bills on the left side and a green pen sitting by the lamp. And your sheets are purple with flowers on 'em."

"Spike, all that proves is you're still a stalker. A creepy, creepy stalker."

"Buffy, please, you have to believe me!"

"What's going on in here?"

Spike groaned as he heard Clint barge in. "Just havin' a little chat with the missus," he told Clint through gritted teeth.

"Get out of my apartment now," Clint yelled.

"Clint, honey, Spike was just leaving—weren't you Spike?"

"Buffy…" Spike said, pleading with her with his eyes.

"Leave, Spike."

Spike slumped in defeat. He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with Buffy this way. He needed proof. He wrapped back in the comforter and went back to his room.

"Did he just put a blanket over his head?" Clint asked.

"He's, um, hung-over," Buffy said. "Makes the sun too bright for his eyes."

Clint frowned. "Oh. Baby, what was he saying to you?"

"It was nothing. He just drank too much last night and got some crazy ideas in his head. He's not exactly what you'd call a stable individual."

"He didn't try to hurt ya, did he?"

"No. He was just being an idiot." Buffy bit her bottom lip. "Clint, was Spike in our apartment last night."

"I wasn't gonna say nothin'," Clint said with a sigh. "Didn't want you worryin' that pretty little head of yours. But yeah, caught him snoopin' last night. We had a few words, and then he left."

"What happened exactly?" Buffy asked.

Clint moved closer to her, tilting her head so he could look down into her eyes. "It was nothing. You don't want to know any more about it."

Buffy blinked. "Yeah, nothing. I don't want to know any more about it."

Clint kissed her forehead. "That's my girl. Now why don't you go on and get some more rest. These late nights workin' really take it outta you."

Buffy kissed him. "All right. I'll see you this afternoon?"

"You bet. Love you, babydoll."

"Love you, too."

*** *** ***

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