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AUTHOR'S NOTES: Updates are coming quicker because we are reaching the end of this story. Be sure to read in order. Chapter 40 was posted just a couple days ago!

Thanks for reading!
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Ever since Joe paraded onto her front lawn two weeks ago, she had been thinking about Shaun Gregory. Off and on like an old light bulb flickers, and for a time speculated whether the boy might deserve some compassion. If not from her, then possibly from the man who used to be his principal.

Much to her own disgruntlement, Buffy came to the conclusion she ought to talk to Robin about letting Shaun earn his way back into school. Larry would certainly appreciate it, and she refused to think about Joe's resulting satisfaction by retaining majority focus on the youngest Gregory boy. She wondered if you could actually un-expel a student.

Amidst the gentle chaos of helping plan the Valentine's Day dance, this was how Buffy talked her old boss into petitioning the teenager for help. Robin Wood and she had a very, very long conversation regarding the possible negatives, and positives, of such a move. In the end she managed to further convince herself as well as him that the plan had a decent shot at doing Shaun some good.

Surprisingly, he was thrilled when they told him. Shaun would be expected to move heavy tables, chairs, mop the floor before and after the dance so janitors didn't have to, and help with a host of other things. He could not attend, but he would return the following morning to assist with cleanup. His vast list of chores was established and reported with little to no sympathy; Shaun took the entire load of responsibility with humble gratitude.

It was baffling. Buffy still wasn't sure he would benefit from this opportunity, or future ones, but if the boy was willing to work... then maybe.

While Robin still waded in shock a week later, Buffy was simply grateful for another pair of hands. She faced the open gym right now, watching three young kids, one parent, and a teacher who had volunteered to stay after hours, move things around. She was in charge of decorations while Phoebe, Penny and Nick were out grocery shopping. The centerpieces for each table had to be set up next, followed by chairs, and that meant she needed to put tablecloths on as soon as possible.

Buffy checked the clock. It was nearly five. The dance started in two hours. They needed to work quicker.

"Jack?!"

The boy looked up from the pile of cords he was untangling in an attempt to make things easier on the DJ. "What's up?!"

"Can you help Lance finish with the tables when you're done over there?!" she called across the room.

"What about Shaun?!" Jack bellowed. He had not been pleased to learn of the other boy's involvement, even though Shaun's assistance wasn't a Get Out of Jail Free card by any means, and the extra help was greatly appreciated by everyone else. Buffy wouldn't have asked Jack to trouble with the tables if Shaun were anywhere near them.

"He's working on lighting! After he's done with that I've got him unloading the truck!"

Jack stood up from his messy cord pile and trudged quickly towards the round tables all leaning against a far wall. When he passed her, he muttered, "Hope that stuff in the truck is heavy."

Buffy smiled somewhat sadly to herself. "It's not. He'll do fine."

Jack said nothing, grasping the curved edge of a big table and rolling away with it. Buffy sighed. If it were anyone else but Shaun, excluding Michael O'Henry of course, Jack wouldn't be acting so stubborn. Unfortunately, that was also why she couldn't argue with him. She knew his acerbic feelings existed partly due to her, but even before the ice pick upheaval Shaun had bullied him without mercy. Jack had every right to dislike him.

Shoving the concern aside, Buffy looked down at the clipboard in her hands again. She read it over before setting it on the floor. The majority of the decorations had been hung and Phoebe's father was on a ladder with the last string of lights. All in all her assigned work was pretty much done except for the centerpieces. Time to tackle the rest of it.

Buffy approached the leaning tabletops. Lance took another and rolled away with it. She was grasping the smooth wooden edge and prying it away from the pile when a pair of gentle hands stalled her movements.

"I'll help with that."

She turned and smiled at a familiar face, into an eager gaze of blue. "Spike, you're early."

"Am not," he pouted. "M'actually a bit late. Got caught up at the shop."

"The body shop?" she asked, frowning. "I thought you weren't going in today-"

"Not that, love. Your shop." He lifted a large, thick plastic bag high for her to see. The muffled sound of glass clinking could be heard inside. "Anya called me because you weren't answerin' your phone. Said you forgot these, uh, heart shaped-"

"Wind chimes. Oh, thank you, Anya!" Buffy peeked inside the bag and noted the hints of pink and red glass sticking out from their brown paper wrappings. "And thank you. I don't even know where my phone is."

"S'probably in your purse." He tugged the bag out of reach when Buffy tried to take it. He looked her over. She worried momentarily how messy her hair might be. "Why don't you pop on home an' get ready? I can make sure things are finished here."

She looked at him with owl eyes. "You're joking."

"Would be a pretty lame joke."

"Spike, I can't leave!" Buffy exclaimed and tapped the flat surface of a table just beside them. "I have to help with the tables, then hang the wind chimes by the photo area. I have to make sure the DJ has electricity, put out the snacks once the girls get back, and Shaun needs to help me get the centerpieces out of the truck-"

"Whoa, pet, slow down." Spike pulled Buffy away from the diminishing stack of tables. "Half that list ain't soundin' like your responsibility."

"All of it," she said argumentatively. "I told the girls they could go home and get ready as soon as they were done shopping. I won't let them be late to their own dance, they've worked too hard."

"I know, but layin' out the food isn't difficult. I could do that. Then the tables will take another five minutes or so-"

"I have to put the tablecloths on."

"Not rocket science, I'd wager."

"Then the centerpieces need to come out of the truck and be put on every-"

Spike stopped her with a harsh frown as he recalled a name just mentioned. "Who's supposed to help you with that again?"

"Shaun."

"As in-"

"Oh, I didn't tell you." Buffy chewed her lip guiltily. She had told Spike she convinced Robin to give the boy some tests, so to speak, to see if Shaun could earn his way back into school. It wasn't customary but her suggestions had made room for exception. Spike knew about that; he simply didn't know that Shaun would be working on the dance setup as part of his trials.

His eyes said very clearly he was not happy to learn of this just now.

"I was going to mention it. I promise," she said. "I just didn't want to upset you."

His jaw clenched and a muscle jumped beneath his skin. "The punk's been here with you, all day?"

"Just the last four hours or so." Her icebreaking laughter died before she could finish her sentence.

Spike huffed through flaring nostrils. "Where is he now?"

"Spike, he wasn't even the one that-"

"Where?"

Buffy relented after a moment. "Working on the lights for the stage," she sighed, then those very lights snapped on. The stage used for performing arts classes and small shows was engulfed in a bright violet hue. "He's done. Look, he's been very helpful today, and he said sorry to me about five times since Robin first talked with him. Just let him work."

Spike huffed again. He watched as Shaun hurried out from behind the gathered stage curtains and met with Jack in the middle of the gym floor. He helped the other boy flip a table on its feet, while Jack glared the whole time.

"All right," Spike conceded, irritation still evident. "I'll be civil."

"Thank you."

"But I don't like that he was here with you and I didn't know about it."

"You mean with me, and Jack, and Penny, Phoebe, Nick, Phoebe's dad, Robin for a while, and-"

"Oh, shut it. That's not the point."

"Do you honestly think there'd be any trouble?" she asked. "Or that I'd be here with just one other person trying to get all this stuff done?"

He eyed the room dubitably. It certainly took more than two people to drench a space like this so thoroughly in red glitter. "I know you haven't been alone with the lil' bugger. I just... worry."

Buffy smiled and pecked Spike on the cheek. "I know you do, which is why I didn't mention it."
"Would've rather you had."

She nodded solemnly. "Next time, I will." Buffy stroked Spike's arm through his familiar leather coat and returned to the original topic at hand before he could argue that 'a next time' should never happen. "Now, could you help me-"

"Buffy," Jack interrupted, coming up behind them, "that was the last table. Want us to get the centerpieces out of the truck?" He paused to nod at the man beside her. "Hey, Spike."

"Hey."

"We need the tablecloths first-"

"Lance is doing them."

"Oh," Buffy said, then spotted the young boy in the distance carefully covering a round tabletop with plum fabric. "Then yes, if you don't mind helping Shaun... It'll go quicker. The centerpieces have all been polished so be careful not to get fingerprints- Actually, wear your gloves, but don't drop them, please. I'll be out in a minute."

"Sweetheart," Spike protested, "you should go home. You've been here all day. We'll get the rest done."

She sighed. "Spike, you don't know everything that has to be done. You haven't been on the committee."

That was a lie, but she didn't know she was telling it. So far as Buffy knew, Spike wasn't on the dance committee, never had been and was only helping out today. That's the way he wanted to keep it. "We can do the rest," he repeated. "Jack's not officially on this 'committee' but Phoebe's been tellin' him everything he needs to know and more. Ain't that right, mate?"

The black haired boy rolled his eyes behind Buffy's shoulder before she looked at him. "He's right. I can tell him what needs to be finished if there's any question. Most of it's done anyway."

"What about the wires?" Buffy asked frantically.

"Penny texted me. She said to let Nick take care of all the electrical stuff, he'll do it when he gets back."

"Isn't he going to be late for-"

"Buffy," Spike interjected again, "settle down. It'll be perfect."

She stopped panicking for a moment. She looked into his eyes and just, stopped. Buffy took a deep breath. Glancing all around she spotted Shaun going outside with a determined gait, no doubt headed for the candelabras and decorative silver boxes filled with different emblems waiting in the truck. Light curtains were twinkling and tall, hanging in a column pattern against the walls which had once been lined with exercise and sporting equipment. Lance was unfolding the last few tablecloths.

Glitter and light pierced every dark corner, high and low. Opulent sequin hearts floated above them, hung on near invisible fishing line. It was pretty, but the whole picture wouldn't be complete before the overheads were shut off and the music started. Buffy really did hope it was perfect. She owed these kids something.

"And you're goin' to be late."

"Huh?"

Spike smiled warmly at her. "Go home. You're a chaperone at this shindig, remember? You've got to get dressed up so you can fit in with the rest of the teenyboppers."

She almost chuckled, despite the nerves. Something like peace descended on her shoulders. "Okay," she sighed heavily. "But if you have any questions, call me."

"If you promise to answer your phone."

She hit him playfully. "Jerk."

"The best one you know."

"Just about."

Buffy smiled brightly and kissed him chastely before turning around and hugging Jack, thanking him for his help. It took a few minutes for her to say goodbye to everyone else and kindly remind them of the few more tasks in need of completion, but eventually Spike and Jack managed to push her out the door and into the cold.

Buffy walked briskly to her Jeep, trying valiantly hard not to worry about every little thing she had left behind for the others. She had no idea at all of the additional plans being rehashed or the surprises this romantic night would soon deliver.

***

She hugged a deep breath inside her lungs before letting it out. Staring at herself in the mirror, Buffy felt a jolt of nervous anticipation mingle with satisfaction. She had bought this dress specifically for the dance. It was flattering to her body but still appropriate for the setting.

The hemline banded around her knees and from there, deep mauve fabric climbed her hips and stomach, smoothing into a scalloped line across her collarbone. Her shoulders were bare and cream white in comparison. She left her hair down for the most part, but pinned select pieces back to better show her face.

Her shoes were two inch tall, pointed kitten heels. She was going to slip them on after driving back to the school. It was six thirty now. She had been given just enough time to shower and apply makeup before sliding into her clothes.

All in all, Buffy felt she looked fine. Good even, but that wasn't her intention. Spike was sticking around to be her chaperone buddy, but otherwise she wasn't very concerned about blending in with a fancy crowd of students. This was their night, not hers.

Buffy tossed another glance at her phone. She had already called five times to check on things, but each time she did Spike insisted it had all come together. He was probably rushing home only now to get changed. Or maybe he had brought extra clothes with so he could dress at the school. She didn't know for sure. Both were equally probable.

Casting another look at her reflection, Buffy almost felt like she was going to her own school dance, despite the oddity of it. This scene reminded her of prom night a bit too much. The same gym, the same building, and the same nerves fluttering in her stomach. It made no sense. She was working hard to ignore the sensations.

Refocusing, Buffy grabbed her heels, purse, and cell phone. She gave Tabitha fresh food and water before slipping into her heavy coat. She locked up and rushed to the car in cumbersome winter boots.

The driver's seat was still warm. Within seconds she had left the front yard, granting her Jeep's engine no time to warm up. She was in too much of a hurry. The cold slowly dimmed what likeness remained between tonight and dances she attended long ago, reminding her of her age and station in life. Reminding her of how happy she was that high school was over, and there was no sense in being nervous.

She stuck with this mentality for the entire drive, but her mindset changed hands again when the engine shut off. Buffy parked outside the second entrance to the gym, an Emergencies Only exit, but all day workers had been using it to load and unload decorations.

She exchanged her boots for fancier shoes, then took a deep breath she felt silly for, and got out of the car.

With a hard push on the solid metal door, Buffy slipped into a darkened world of glitter and scarlet. Blaring overheads had officially retired. Ghostly illumination came from pearl white string lights and glowing pink and purple lanterns floating above the tables. Every centerpiece was shining silver beneath dangling hearts, antique boxes and bird cages filled with candies, chocolates, and electric votive candles of varying sizes.

Buffy turned and saw the photo area set to go. The camera man was a patient senior with his own professional camera and a love of photography, adjusting something on his tripod. The background was made up of sparkling maroon curtains, shadowed by her glistening glass wind chimes.

The DJ was on stage beneath violet lights, playing something soft and low to test his equipment. Nick was speaking to him, and from there Buffy spotted Penny and Phoebe adding clipped roses to the food and drink tables.

They noticed her, too, and waved with huge smiles. Buffy returned both. She felt her heart racing. Everything was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

She started to remove her coat, and suddenly the music grew. A lively top chart hit echoed across the air as the first partygoers slowly walked in through the wide open orange doors.

Buffy bit her lip as she watched them take it in. Their eyes grew very large. Stunning grins split the first four faces, then the next three, the next two, and so on...

Penny rushed to the stage to retrieve her date while Phoebe's blonde hair bobbed in the direction of the arrivals. She greeted them with open enthusiasm, smiling whimsically, gesturing to the punch.

Buffy felt someone come up behind her. Two hands grasped her coat and pulled it the rest of the way off her elbows. She turned and found Jack.

He must have noticed her astonishment, because he smirked and said, "Shocked we got it all done?"

Buffy was shocked, but not for the work accomplished. She was looking at a boy who was a whole new version of the one she knew, a different man in different clothes. Jack's hair was made blacker for whatever gel or pomade was used to curve and carve it, a style reminiscent of the 1940s. His pants were black cloth, matching his suit jacket and tie. A white button up fit his chest neatly. Buffy looked closer and even discovered cufflinks.

"I'm shocked, all right," she said. "Did you know how to tie a tie before this?"

Jack examined his attire briefly and tugged restlessly on his shirt collar. Her coat hung haphazardly from his right hand. "Well, my aunt helped a little. Spike, too. What do you think?"

"I think you look great." She reached out and brushed a piece of fuzz off his shoulder. "Definitely red carpet material. Did Phoebe see you yet?"

The boy's cheeks grew pink. He hadn't told Buffy about that, but there was a look in her eyes that said doing so would have been redundant. "Uh, no. Not yet."

"She's greeting the first arrivals." Buffy plucked her coat out of his hand and nodded at the gym doors. "I'm sure she would like some company."

Jack peeked over her shoulder at the girl in the distance. She was wearing a fuchsia party dress and high heels. "Want me to put your coat away first? There's a coat check in the hall."

"No, that's okay. I'll do it."

Jack nodded gratefully. He started to walk by, but stopped suddenly to add, "Hey, thanks for helping with all of this again." His eyes flickered to the ceiling and lit up walls. "We couldn't have done it without you."

Buffy nodded humbly. "Anytime."

"You look great, by the way. Spike'll probably trip over himself."

She laughed, then watched him slowly approach the gym's front doors. Jack's swagger and confidence wavered momentarily. Beside an entrance now flooded with decked out students, Buffy saw the exact moment Phoebe turned and spotted him. The girl's mouth fell open, widening instantly into a brilliant, crooked smile. She hugged Jack hello.

Buffy grinned, too, casting another look over the entire room, and sighed as her nerves rippled away.

A few minutes later, and she had somehow maneuvered through the growing crowd and into the hallway. She checked her coat and purse with two bored freshman students then returned to the gym.

Buffy made her way to the drink station. She was just filling a paper cup with fruit punch when Robin Wood approached. He was in his customary principal attire, brown suit and tie, but his facial expression was much different. His eyes mirrored emotions of astonishment and pleasure.

Her thoughts were confirmed when the first thing he said to her was, "I'm impressed."

"I'm glad." Buffy raised an empty cup in the air. "Punch?"

"Sure."

She poured quickly. Robin took the offering and braved a single sip, then laughed. "Identical to what they served at all my old school dances."

"I'm pretty sure there's some generic recipe," she said. Robin chuckled again. "I didn't know you were chaperoning tonight."

"I'm not, just wanted to see the final outcome."

"Curiosity or lack of faith?"

He smirked. "I'd never have a lack of faith in what you can accomplish when it comes to these students, Buffy."

She paused, looking at her feet. "Well, it wasn't just me. We had the girls, Jack, Shaun, William-"

"I know," he assured her. "Believe me, I know. What I'm saying is I never would have expected bad results. I just never expected this." He waved at the makeshift ballroom. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"You shouldn't?"

"No. Like I said, I always have faith in you when it comes to these kids. I should have known that would easily transfer into giving them a wonderful school dance."

"Like I said, it wasn't all me."

"But a lot of it was," he replied with finality, and she quit trying to dissuade him. "I've never seen anything like this at a high school; at least, not in my career. Maybe a few of the proms when the art students got involved, but rarely. You outdid yourself, Buffy. Be proud of it."

It was too hard to say the words, to agree, to verbally acknowledge the glittering surroundings she had worked so hard on. It had been a tedious measuring of ideas and hard work, making sure nothing looked too gaudy or childish. Buffy merely smiled at Robin, because his kind words were more appreciation than she felt she deserved.

"I've got to get going now," he said, glancing at his watch. The man set his punch aside. "Faith and I have dinner plans. She'll kill me if I get there after the babysitter does."

"Have a good time," Buffy responded. "Tell her I say hello."

"Thank you, and I will. Have a good night now."

Once he walked away, Buffy turned to the open room. Students in fancy dresses were marching towards the punchbowl so she tried to step aside, but the moment they spotted her she was seized by hailing hands and eyes.

The group of four engulfed her. Thanking her, hugging her, stealing a chance to tell Buffy how much they appreciated her hard work on this amazing display of color and light. They told her how much they missed her. Buffy recalled each of their names and faces easily, but before she could so much as begin to personally speak to any of them another mob arrived. Their dates were equally appreciative and just as familiar.

Buffy found, as the night went on and her mind traveled from one grateful face to the next, that nearly every student knew of her involvement with the dance setup. Standing as a chaperone, they took the opportunity to make Buffy go red in the face every other moment.

Ten minutes in and she was wondering where Spike could be. An hour more, and she was really starting to feel the fool and the fake, because each embrace or word of thanks was unjust. It was bittersweet, and somehow worse than when Robin had spoken to her.

She didn't mind being thanked by Jack, or Penny, Phoebe and Nick- they all knew what kind of time was put into this. They had been in the thick of it, helping, working just as hard. Buffy thanked them for their reliability and determination, too. It was a trade off.

But she hadn't known receiving thanks from other students, the majority, would bother her so much. It similarly made Buffy acknowledge the fact she felt she owed them. Like Shaun was being made to work to earn his way back into school, she should do all she could to apologize for leaving.

Feeling a lump grow in her throat, Buffy swallowed hard and headed back to the punchbowl. It was deserted, finally.

She kept her eyes down most of the way, but noticed a small group of teachers all huddling in one corner. Four in total, acting as fellow chaperones.

Spike was still missing.

Buffy almost bumped into a line of students before she looked away. The music dwindled suddenly. A voice rang out over the crowd.

Nick and Penny were on stage. A young couple dressed in black and white, sheets of paper in their hands. Suddenly, Buffy remembered the prom-esque tradition of the Valentine's Day dance, and quickly wiggled her way through the wall of kids barring her from the drink table. The King and Queen of Hearts were about to be chosen.

Buffy filled a cup as Penny and Nick gave an introductory speech. A joke here, an echo of laughter there. She was taking her second sip of too sweet punch when she turned around, and spotted Spike, standing in the entrance to the gym.

She nearly choked. All noise fell away. Her date was head to toe in black, wearing a suit instead of leather and denim. Buffy swallowed when she caught his eye. He smiled calmly, then walked closer. She saw his curly blonde hair had been tamed and styled; somehow, his cheekbones looked more defined in the shadows of floating hearts and lanterns.

She half dropped, half set her cup down, then paused instantly when she heard her name called. It was magnified by the microphone in Penny's hand. Buffy frowned when she noticed people began turning to face her. She didn't know what they were saying, but one voice soon drowned out the murmur.

"All right, now that I have your attention..." The girl looked sideways at Nick and he smiled like a prince. "We're doing something a little different this year. We always have a King and Queen of Hearts- Congratulations Maryanne and Tristan, you guys look great in your crowns! It isn't every year, though- actually this is the first -that another award is issued."

"There was no voting for this one, but everybody here knows about it- except for the winner, of course." Penny smiled slyly, cleared her throat, and behind her someone handed Nick a large, dark... something. Buffy couldn't tell what it was even after he carried it out into the violet light. It was covered with a blanket.

Penny looked at her again, so did Nick, along with a mass of other young faces. The girl with the microphone went on patiently, encouragement in her eyes. "Buffy Summers, the same person who captained the dance committee and helped us accomplish everything you see in front of you tonight-" she paused shortly as applause erupted. Shivers rained down Buffy's back.

"-is also the woman we have all, at one time or another, turned to for advice. Even before she was our guidance counselor, and certainly after, Ms. Summers has always seemed- I'm sorry." Penny stopped, catching her subject's gaze very pointedly. "Buffy."

She felt her heartbeat pound. Penny spoke to her personally, but oh so publically, as she continued. "You've always been there when one of us needed help, or someone to talk to. You're always willing to listen. You are there when other people can't be."

A hush fell over the room, chilling the bare skin on Buffy's shoulders. She couldn't move.

"When you came here, took time off from your other job, you got to know each and every person in this school as if you had the time."

Penny swallowed heavily and suddenly held up a few slips of paper. "I have a couple letters here. Not even a week ago some of us decided to put a little voting box in the principal's office so anyone who wanted to could leave anonymous notes of appreciation. It was filled when I went to pick out three to be read here tonight."

Without stopping, and as Buffy could feel every muscle around her eyes tighten, Penny unfolded the first slip of paper.

"Number one," she proclaimed, "says, 'I finally told my parents what I wanted to do after college. They weren't very happy about it, and for the sake of anonymity I won't say what it was. But after I told them, I felt very stupid... I called Buffy. It was her day off, but she told me to come by and talk to her anyway at her store. She listened until I was calm enough to talk to my parents again, gave me advice on what to say. Since then, they've been nothing but supportive.' "

Penny shuffled her papers. "There were a lot of similar ones like that in the box. Now, for number two..." She cleared her throat once more. "'Buffy was the first person I told secrets to that no one else knew. I was struggling with guilt, and the first time I let it out she talked with me for three hours straight. We had a weekly appointment from then on. She helped me feel in control, helped me forgive myself.'"

Penny held up her third piece of paper, and handed the others to the same person who had given Nick the item he still held. "The final note is a little shorter, but I thought it deserved to be read. It goes, 'I lost someone very close to me this past year. When they died, I thought I wanted to die, too. Buffy Summers knew different; she saved my life.'"

Tense, ethereal quiet fell, clear as glass, until it was eventually broken by Penny's effervescent young voice. "So," she said, "I think it's incredibly obvious why we wanted to try and show our gratitude, even in this small way..."

Nick finally yanked the blanket off the cumbersome object in his hands, and Buffy's lips parted on a shaky inhale. The boy held what looked to be a life preserver, smaller than ordinary ones with lavender stripes instead of orange. It shined beneath the stage lights. In the very middle of the ring she could see domed glass, like a clock face, displaying four separate, capital letters.

"Buffy, it is my pleasure to present to you the 'North Star' award," Penny announced, "created by some of our most ambitious arts and crafts students. It's a life preserver, see- and in the middle there's a gold compass painted across the glass... Underneath, on this little plate here, it says, 'Buffy Summers - She Always Guides Us Home.'"

As if in slow motion, the stillness broke with clapping. Escalating until cheering preceded whistles, spinning inside a surreal moment of reality. Buffy could feel her cheeks pinch from smiling as she moved ahead, and that was all she could feel. The students made a wide passage for her, parting like waves. She trembled, and found herself on stage.

The racket faded slowly. Up close, the life preserver was so pretty, with an opal gleam and sparkles that winked under the lights. Solid, beautiful, striped with iridescent lavender paint. A shallow dome of glass swallowed its hollow middle. Above the gold plate was a shimmering, ornate vision of a compass, its slim arrow pointing North. The symbolism of it slammed into her.

Nick lifted the whole thing up by a thick, soft piece of yarn. "You can hang it anywhere you like," he said, and handed it off.

Buffy pressed the life preserver to her chest, and the applause filled her ears again. The piece wasn't heavy, but it wasn't light either. Her heart was pounding unmercifully. Penny embraced her and Buffy returned the hug as best she could. The girl whispered to her, "Don't cry. We just wanted to show you how much you mean to us."

Buffy pulled back, wiping her cheeks. She was mesmerized by the crowd, the gift, the moment entirely. Her tears weren't hers to control.

But she did manage to say into the microphone, "This means more than I can... Thank you. All of you."

Penny hugged her again. Another murmur slipped through the chorus of appreciation. "Don't tell him I told you, but William had a hand in all this."

Buffy frowned as she was tugged away from the microphone. The DJ resumed his place. The claps and whistles dimmed a little, but only just. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he suggested it." The girl stopped at the top of the steps leading off the stage. She shielded Buffy from the crowd. "When Jack told us you would be helping out with the dance, we wanted to, somehow, let you know how much everyone missed you. But we didn't have any ideas, until William talked to us."

"He-" Buffy shook her head. "He was the one that said you should give me an award?"

"Well, that was kind of everyone's idea, actually. But he got the ball rolling, and thought of the anonymous message box in Principal Wood's office. He even took a vote on what was the best award we should present!" She beamed. "He got a few students to draw up some samples, and the North Star won by a landslide."

Buffy's eyes were shimmering in the light from surrounding stage lamps. All she could think to say was, "Who drew this?" and clenched the lifesaver in her hands.

"Felicity. I know you know her- She's in the theatre program?"

Buffy nodded instantly. She remembered copying flyers for the girl, remembered what else that trip to the library had gotten her.

In a split second, she was looking up again, searching the crowd and hurrying down steps to reach the gym floor. Penny was right beside her.

"I'm sure you'll be bombarded the rest of the night. If you leave early no one will blame you. The dance is over in less than an hour anyway."

Buffy turned to the girl and frantically wrapped her free arm around her neck. "Thank you so much, Penny! You have no idea what this means to me."

The girl pulled away shyly and rolled her eyes. "I think you said that a minute ago. And you don't need to thank anyone. This is our thank you, to you."

Buffy took that in. After a steadying breath, she was searching the crowd again. Most of the students had gone back to dancing, but a few were lingering nearby, obviously waiting for a minute to say hello or offer more congratulations. "I have to find Spike. Have you seen him?"

The girl paused. "You mean William?"

"Right. Nickname." Buffy shook her head. "Sorry."

"No big. And yeah, I spotted him by the punchbowl a minute ago."

"Thanks."

"You're not supposed to tell him I told you-"

Buffy wasn't listening anymore, and sped off with a million butterflies, much flightier than the ones she had experienced earlier, swirling in her stomach. She met with several excited kids itching to tell her again how much she had been missed, reminding Buffy that the guidance counselor position was still open, just waiting to be filled.

She dodged who she could and politely managed to cut conversations short. For the very first time in her whole life, Buffy didn't want to sacrifice another minute of her own time. She couldn't. She could barely move fast enough through a throng of teenagers, most of whom were taller than her, to find the one adult who actually ranked higher. The single person that had become more important.

She reached the drink table only to find it empty. Disappointment flooded her gut like nervous energy. Buffy groaned, then, forcing a calming breath into her lungs, she turned around and surveyed the crowd. Just as she did, Spike emerged from a bulk of teenagers on the right.

"Hell," he said upon approach, "where'd you learn to run like that?"

The question crumbled into silence. And that was it. He stood there in all his handsome, suit-wearing, bleached blondeness, breathing quickly because he had been seeking her out before she even knew to find him. Suddenly it felt as if something both soft and hard rammed Buffy in the chest.

Glory brightened before her eyes. Her heart, it swelled. "You did it."

He was confused. Spike walked closer to hear better. "What was that?"

"You did it."

A head shake. "Did what?"

"This." Buffy shook the North Star award, level with his stomach. Spike eyed it cautiously and held his breath. "Penny told me everything."

A frozen instant, and fear bled into his eyes. "Buffy, I-"

"It's the most thoughtful, incredible... fortifying thing anyone has ever done for me," she said passionately. "And you just... did it. You didn't even want me to find out-... *Because he wanted me to see how much they all cared.*

"'Cause it wasn't me. Look at this," he touched the life preserver fast. "This is for you, from them, because of how much you help. They feel it. They've needed it. You gave them-"

"I know." These two words shut him up, but Spike's frantic uncertainty calmed none whatsoever. "And you made me see it. You helped them make me really see it."

Her mouth parted, her whole body moved closer to his as if carried on a wave. He stood frighteningly still and wide eyed. A calm hand reached out, grasping the soft material of his open suit jacket. "Thank you."

His reply was late, choked. "You're... welcome."

"Now, please," she added quietly, "will you take me home?"

"What?"

"I said, take me home."

The meaning went unvoiced, mostly, but stood clear and concise all the same. He read it in her eyes. Felt lightning shoot through his stomach up to his heart. It pounded an erratic rhythm. "Are you sure?"

"Spike, you gave me strength tonight I didn't know I could find again. I want to give it back to you..." A hand ran across his shoulder. "To us."

"Buffy, if this is because... I didn't intend-"

"It is." She smiled gently. "And it isn't. I know you didn't plan on me finding out. Just like I didn't plan on you getting me back on track."

Spike watched Buffy lift her award high for him to see, shuddering as her fingertips left his shoulder on a graze. The gold arrow pointing north gleamed brightly under string lights.

"I'm the one with the compass, remember. Who knew I'd ever need someone else to guide me home?"





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