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Buffy lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Spike had run off almost as soon as he'd gotten her back to her house. She'd wanted him to stay, but he'd barely even listened to her pleas. She'd wanted him there more than anything. She felt better when he was around. Despite the fact that she'd originally thought Spike was a kidnapper, and had since discovered he was really a vampire, she felt safe with him.

Buffy listened to the silence of the house, knowing that the others had already gone to bed as well, deciding to try to restore her memories in the morning. She glanced at the clock. She'd been in bed for almost two hours, and she didn't feel any closer to falling asleep than when she'd first come upstairs.

She got out of bed, quickly changing out of her nightclothes before climbing out of her window.

*** *** ***

Spike woke to the comforting feeling of a warm body pressed up against him and a familiar, pleasant scent surrounding him. Still groggy from sleep, he pulled the body closer to him, burying his face in her soft hair.

Suddenly, realization hit, causing Spike to wake completely. Buffy was in his bed—in his arms. He pulled back, rolling off the edge of the bed and hitting the ground.

A few moments later, Buffy's face appeared over the edge of the bed. "Spike, what are you doing on the floor?"

Spike sat up, rubbing his head. "What are you doing in my bed?"

"I couldn't sleep in mine."

"Well, you can't sleep in mine either!" Spike snapped.

"You didn't seem to mind. As a matter of fact, it looks like you like it."

As Buffy's gaze trailed down, Spike realized he was naked—and responding to Buffy's presence. He pulled the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around himself as best he could. "Buffy, please, you need to go."

"Why?" Buffy asked, stretching out on his bed.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to do something that'll get me staked good and proper the moment you remember how much you hate me."

"I can't possibly hate you that much," Buffy said. "I mean, any guy with a body like that… And I know twenty-year-old me isn't blind."

Spike sighed. "We have a history, Buffy. It's bad. You just don't remember it."

"Then tell me! Tell me why I'm supposed to hate you."

Spike closed his eyes, forcing his body to accept that he was doing the right thing by telling a willing Buffy lying in his bed something that would make her run away from him. He imagined himself as dust in the wind, and spoke.

"We were mortal enemies. I spent the better part of two years trying to make you the third Slayer I killed."

Buffy's eyes grew wide, and Spike expected her to bolt. She didn't. "Why didn't you?" she asked softly.

"The government did something to me, put a chip in my head so I couldn't kill people anymore."

"But you've been nice to me. Does the chip make you be a nice vampire?"

"No."

"Then why are you?"

"I'm not…" Spike looked down. "I'm in love with you." Spike thought of every other time he'd made that confession, and how Buffy had always looked at him with disgust.

"Wow. That's like totally romantic."

Spike's head shot up. "What?"

"Well, it is. I mean, you should've killed me, but instead you fell in love. It's romantic."

"Pathetic is what it is."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't think it's pathetic. The vampire and the slayer. It's like Romeo and Juliet."

Spike cursed under his breath. This was probably the mindset that led her to fall for Angel. "Romeo and Juliet died, Buffy."

"So. We could one up them."

"Go home."

"I don't want to."

"Your mates'll worry."

"I don't care. I'm an adult now, aren't I? I'd rather stay here."

"I don't want you here."

Buffy pointed to the tent that was still in the front of the sheet. "He does."

"Dust," Spike thought, "This will lead to me being dust." "Go home, Slayer."

"But…" Buffy pouted.

Spike started to argue more, but stopped when he heard someone walking around in his crypt. A few moments later, Willow came down the ladder. "Spike, we can't find Buffy," she started. Then, she turned around. Her eyes bugged. "Because she's apparently here. In your bed. And you're almost naked."

"We didn't…it's not…don't stake me." Spike said, backing away from the bed.

"Spike and I were talking," Buffy said, wanting Willow to just go away.

"I can, um, see that," Willow said, blushing. "Buffy, Giles wants you at the Magic Box."

"He wants me in a magic box?"

"No. The Magic Box is his store," Willow explained.

"Oh. And Giles is the old British guy, right?" Buffy asked. "My…um…Watcher?"

"Yeah, that's Giles. We called him this morning, and he wants to see you so we can figure out what to do about this spell."

"Are you in trouble?" Buffy asked.

"A bit," Willow admitted. "Giles isn't happy with me."

"He shouldn't be too rough on you. This really isn't too bad," Buffy said, getting off the bed and standing beside Spike. "Are you coming, too?" she asked him.

"Can't. Sun's up."

"Vampires really catch on fire in the sun?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that blows. Come and find me after sundown, see if I'm all grown-up Buffy again?"

"I will." Spike gave Willow a nervous glance.

"Well, um, let's just go and let Spike sleep, because that's what he's been doing with Buffy here, right?"

"Right! Been sleeping. Not taking advantage of fifteen-year-old Buffy."

"Good to know. Come on, Buffy. Let's go talk to Giles and try to fix this mess."

"Bye, Spike," Buffy said with a bright smile. "Don't forget to find me after sunset."

"I'll be there, kitten."

"Let's go," Willow said, tugging on Buffy's arm."

Buffy gave Spike one more glance before following Willow up the ladder.

Spike sat down on the bed, his shoulders slumping. He hoped they got Buffy back to normal before she pushed him past his limit.

*** *** ***

Buffy sat on the counter of the Magic Box, watching the door. The sun had just set, and she was impatiently waiting for Spike to show up. She'd met the rest of the people who were supposedly her friends, but she didn't feel any real desire to spend any time with them. Anya and Xander were sitting around the table trying to find the demon that had taken the crystal, while Giles, Tara, and Willow were in the back, searching for an alternative means of spell reversal. Dawn was staying the night with a friend, the general belief being that she'd be better off removed from all of this.

"Hey, Buff, is this the demon?"

Buffy looked up at Xander, whom she'd been told had been her friend since she'd moved to Sunnydale years ago. However, with no memories of this friendship, she'd been finding him rather annoying, and wondered if her lost memories really made her feel any differently. "How am I supposed to know? Amnesia, remember?"

"Oh, right."

"But I don't think so. Willow said it was red, and that one's pink with big green spots."

The bell over the door jingled, and Buffy turned sharply. As Spike came in, she grinned brightly, running to him for an enthusiastic hug. "I missed you all day," she whispered.

"Missed you, too, kitten." He pulled away slightly, looking down into her eyes. "I take it you're still fifteen."

"Yeah. They've been making with the researchy-ness all day, with the smelly books and the even smellier spells, but it's been a no go."

"Hey, Captain Peroxide, hands off the Buffy."

Xander's outburst pulled Spike's attention to the fact that his hands were still resting on Buffy's hips. He let them drop. "Just came by to check on the Slayer," he explained.

"Yeah, well, she's fine. You can go now," Xander snapped.

"Hey! I asked him to come, and I want him to stay," Buffy said.

"Buffy, I don't know what he's told you, but Spike is not someone you can trust," Xander said.

"He told me who he is," Buffy said.

"Did he tell you about the time he chained you to a wall and threatened to let his crazy ex kill you? Or how about the time he made a Buffy robot to use as a 'girlfriend.'" Xander said the last word complete with air quotes.

Buffy looked at Spike in surprise. "You did that?"

The look in Buffy's eyes hit Spike hard. He'd liked the trust and playfulness that had been in them earlier. "I…I did." He turned away. "I'll go now." Spike left before he had to hear Buffy condemn him. Again.

Buffy looked back at Xander. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what, make the psycho killer get away from you? Look, Buffy, you may not remember this, but Spike is not your friend. He comes in handy in a fight now and then, but he's still a vampire. He wants to hurt you."

"And what, you guys are so big on not hurting me? I'm sorry, but it was one of you who put this spell on me in the first place. How can I trust any of you?"

"We're your friends!" Xander replied. "Spike's an evil vampire. If he seems like he's being a nice guy, it's just because he thinks you're more vulnerable now, and he can finally get what he wants out of you!"

Buffy thought back to that morning when Spike had resisted her advances. "You're wrong."

"He did help us this summer," Anya piped up. "And Buffy wasn't around then, so she couldn't be the reason for that."

"Anya!" Xander snapped in a warning tone.

"No, let her talk," Buffy said. "I mean, I may be a fifteen year old cheerleader from L.A., but I'm not stupid. I know something's going on that no one's telling me. What happened that Willow wanted me to forget? Where was I this summer?"

"It's better we don't talk about that," Xander said.

"It's my life! I may not remember it, but it still is. How can I trust any of you if you won't tell me the truth?"

"But you'll trust Spike?" Xander asked in anger and disbelief.

"Spike's the only person who's been at all straightforward with me!"

"We've been straightforward with you."

"Oh yeah, then where's my mother?"

Xander winced. "Buffy…"

"She's dead, isn't she?" When both Anya and Xander were silent, Buffy yelled, "Answer me, dammit!"

"She died last year," Anya said. "Aneurysm."

"I need to go," Buffy said. "I've been here all day. I…I can't take it anymore."

"Where are you going to go?" Xander asked.

"I don't know. I just need… I need to not be here."

"Buffy, you can't just wander around out there in your…condition," Xander said. "You don't know how dangerous it is out there."

"What does it matter if it's dangerous?" Buffy asked. "I'm the Slayer, right? Can't I handle myself?"

"You don't remember how," Xander said, grabbing her shoulder in an attempt to keep her from leaving.

"Let me go!" Buffy took hold of Xander's arm and threw him across the room. Her hand went to her mouth, surprise coursing through her at what she was capable of. "I'm sorry," she muttered before running from the shop.

*** *** ***

Spike looked up sharply when he heard a small tap at his crypt door. He didn't know anyone who bothered to knock. Usually, a good, swift kick seemed to do.

Another knock, then the door slowly opened. Buffy peeked in, and Spike could tell she'd been crying. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Buffy walked in, shutting the door behind her. "Everything."

"Buffy, what Xander said earlier…"

"Tell me honestly, did you do those things?"

"I told you I did."

"Why?"

"Because I'm an idiot." Buffy chuckled, and Spike smiled a little. "The robot thing, I don't know… I just wanted you so much, and I thought it was a way for me to have you. Dumb, I know, but I don't always think before I act. And as for the chaining you up bit, I thought it was the only way I could get you listen to me tell you how I feel about you. And I swear, Buffy, I never would've let Drusilla actually hurt you. Please, believe me about that."

"I do." They were silent for a moment, and then Buffy pointed to the glass he was holding in his hand. "Is that blood?"

Spike held the glass up so she could see it better. "Bourbon."

Buffy walked over, sitting in Spike's lap and resting her head against his chest. He froze for a moment before setting his drink down and wrapping his arms around her. "My mom's dead," Buffy said after a few minutes.

"They tell you after I left?"

"Yeah. I had to practically force it out of them."

"I'm sorry, pet."

"It's strange. It doesn't seem real. I have no memory of her dying. In my mind, she's just supposed to pick me up from cheerleading practice at the end of the day. But that was five years ago, and she's gone now, and it hurts."

"Course it hurts. She was your mum. And Joyce—she was one amazing woman."

"You knew my mom?"

"Yeah."

"Were you sad when she died?"

"I was. She was one of the few people in this world who never treated me like a monster, and that meant a lot to me."

"Did I treat you like a monster?"

"Sometimes. Usually when I deserved it. But you also know how to treat me like a man." Spike closed his eyes, remembering the night he'd said something similar to her—the same night he'd failed her.

"Everything's so mixed up. I keep looking at these people I'm supposed to love, and I feel nothing. They tell me they're my friends—family even—but I look at them and see strangers. It scares me."

"Does that go for me, too?"

"No. I look into your eyes, and I feel something. All day, all I wanted was to be back here with you. And…and it's strange, but I get the feeling that it's more than me just not remembering them. There's something else, too. Something I can't quite grasp."

"You felt alienated from them before the spell," Spike told her. "You'd been spending a lot of time with me instead. That's why you woke up in my crypt that night."

"What happened, Spike? I know something bad happened to me this summer, and I need to find out what."

"Willow may have had a point in wanting you to forget that, luv."

"No. Don't you do that, too. You've been upfront about everything I've asked you. Don't stop now."

"You died."

"Huh? I what?" Buffy pulled back, gaping at him in disbelief.

"You died. Sacrificed yourself for Dawn. Your friends brought you back a few months later, but this whole summer you were dead and buried."

"So that's what she wanted me to forget—that I died?"

"That, and well, Willow and the others think you were trapped in a hell dimension."

"They think I went to Hell? Geez, what kind of friends are they? Wait—did I go to Hell? I mean, I've done some bad things, like the time I stole a pack of gum from the gas station, but…"

"No, pet, you didn't go to Hell. But they don't know that. You've been distant since you got back, and they think you've been having a hard time adjusting from whole hellish torture bit, but the truth is, you were in Heaven—and they pulled you out. Being here, being the Slayer again, you said this is the real Hell for you."

Buffy stared for a moment, trying to wrap her head around what he'd said. She couldn't really. Without the first hand knowledge she'd had with her lost memories, it was impossible. "How do you know that?"

"You told me. Right after you came back. Guess you had to tell someone, and you didn't want to tell the ones who did the resurrecting. Guilt and whatnot."

"I was dead. And in Heaven. That's…a lot to take in."

"I know."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm hungry."

Spike chucked. "Not quite what I was expecting you to say. All I have here is blood. Oh, and Whetabix."

"Wheata-what?"

"Wheatabix. It's cereal. Kinda like a big block of crumbly wheat bits."

"Ew. Stop right there." Buffy gave Spike her sweetest expression—the one that made all the boys in school desperate to do her bidding. "Could you go get me something to eat?"

Spike looked into her eyes and knew he'd do anything for her. "What do you want, kitten?"

"Could you get me a hamburger? I usually try to avoid the greasy, but I'm in need of comfort food."

"Don't worry about what you eat, pet. Slayer metabolism. You can eat whole pizzas in one sitting and never gain a pound. I've seen it."

"Ooh. In that case, I want ice cream, too."

Spike smiled, resisting the urge to press a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Whatever my girl wants."

"Am I?"

"Are you what?"

"Your girl."

"Buffy…"

"I wanna be, you know."

"I want you to be, too, but you can't be. Not without your memories."

"But…"

Spike cut her off. "I'll make you a deal. You still wanna be my girl when you remember everything, and you will be." Spike tried not to let the pain he felt then seep into his words. He knew it was just something to say to placate Buffy, and that as soon as she was herself again, the last thing she'd want would be to be "his girl."

"Okay, I guess I can live with that for now," Buffy said. "So where's my guilt-free junk food?"

Spike chuckled, lifting her off his lap so he could stand. "I'm on it." He put on his duster, then went to one of the sarcophaguses, lifting the lid and retrieving a sword. He handed it to Buffy. "If anything demony comes in, decapitate first and ask questions later. Unless it's a guy with a lot of skin—answers to the name of Clem. He said he'd be coming by later to bring some poker winnings he owes me."

Buffy nodded. "Right. Kill unless it's bringing poker winnings."

"You got it." Unable to resist any longer, Spike placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll be waiting."

Spike knew the thought of Buffy waiting for him in his crypt would be enough to ensure a speedy trip.

*** *** ***

Buffy looked up hopefully when the door to the crypt opened again. Spike had only been gone a few minutes, but for all she knew he had some kind of vampire teleportation power. She frowned when she saw it was Giles. "Oh, it's you. Watcher dude."

"Buffy, you need to come home this instant. You cannot spend the night in a vampire's crypt."

Buffy crossed her arms in front of her. "I can, and I will."

"This is ridiculous. I don't know what sort of lies Spike has told you, but he is not your friend."

"Ugh. You and Xander must take some sort of Spike bashing lessons. And you want to talk about lies—Spike's the only one who hasn't been telling them. It's been you people that's been all big with the whole 'hide the truth from Buffy' thing."

"We've only been working in your best interest. And we've also been worried sick about you since you threw Xander across the room and then ran away."

"Look, the Xander throwing incident was an accident. I didn't realize the Slayer gig made me that strong. But I don't want to be with you guys. I want to be with Spike. He's making this whole situation bearable. So go on, work on reversing the spell or whatever, and I'll be right here."

If there was one thing Giles had learned in his time as Buffy's watcher, it was that he'd have a better chance at trying to teach a twenty-year-old dog to dance on his hind legs than he would ever convincing Buffy to do something when she was in one of her stubborn moods. "When you have your memory back, you'll see how foolish this behavior is."

"Maybe. But right now, this is where I want to be."

"You know where the people who really care about you are if you need us."

"I know where you are, yeah."

"Remember this, Buffy—Spike is a cold-blooded killer."

"Got it. Killer vampire out getting me dinner and ice cream."

"Buffy, if Spike is being nice to you, it's only because he wishes to, um, well, he wants to…"

"Bang me 'till I can't walk straight? You can say the word, Giles. I'm fifteen—not a nun. Besides, I grew up with cable."

Giles blushed. "Yes, well…"

"Look, think what you want about Spike. I can see the truth."

"Buffy…"

"Just go. I'm tired, and I'm hungry, and if you really know me as well as you claim, then you know how cranky that makes me."

"Right. Do be careful."

Buffy flopped back in Spike's chair. "I'll be fine."

Giles gave her one last pleading glance before leaving.

*** *** ***

When Spike came back, Buffy was on the floor playing with three black and white kittens. "I take it Clem came by," Spike said, putting Buffy's ice cream in his freezer.

"Yeah. Why do you play poker for kittens?"

Spike looked down. "Well, because, um, kittens…um, we…well…"

Buffy guessed where he was going with that. "Ew, Spike. Eating kittens is gross and totally not cool."

Spike had the decency to look sheepish. "I am a vampire, after all."

"Well, you can't eat any more kittens. Especially not Pete, Frank, and Larry."

"You named them Pete, Frank, and Larry?"

"Of course. Why?"

"I just figured you'd be more the type to name your car Mister Fluffy Paws or something."

"Nope. I think you should give your pets good, solid people names. I mean, how would you like it if people called you… Wait, never mind. Spike's one of the top ten names for a dog."

"Oi! No insulting my name, Buffy."

"Oh, come on, you're asking for it when you call yourself 'Spike.' I mean, really. What's your real name?"

"William."

"I like that. Can I call you William?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it's a bloody poncey name, that's why."

"I have no idea what that means, but I don't agree. William's a good strong name—like…" Buffy thought about the last thing they'd been studying in her history class, "William the Conqueror."

Spike chuckled. "Thanks, pet."

Buffy grinned. "So, Willie, where's my hamburger?"

*** *** ***

Spike smiled contentedly. Buffy was sitting in his lap as they watched television, the carton of ice cream they'd shared on the floor at their feet. Something inside him said that the Big Bad should not be happy just to hold the Slayer in his arms like this, but Spike didn't care. Having Buffy this close, both physically and emotionally, was all he could ever hope for.

Buffy yawned, and Spike frowned. He didn't want this to end, but he knew it had to eventually. "Tired, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, it's been a long day."

"You want me to walk you home then?"

Buffy looked at him shyly. "I was kinda hoping I could stay here."

Spike thought back to how hard it had been for him to have Buffy in his bed that morning. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea…"

"Please? I'll be good, I promise."

"It's not you I'm worried about."

"I don't want to go back home. I don't know any of them, and I hate it there."

Spike sighed. He knew he was entirely love's bitch, but he couldn't tell her no. "Fine. But, please, don't try to tempt me, all right? You may not realize it now, but memoryful Buffy will stake me if we do anything."

"I don't think I would, but okay. No fooling around."

"Thanks, pet." Spike questioned his sanity for a moment when he realized he was thanking Buffy for promising not to try to have sex with him, but then he reminded himself that it was the safest route. And hey, maybe this would earn him a thank you kiss, like when Glory had tortured him. That was always something to hope for…

Buffy and Spike went down to the lower level, with Buffy insisting they bring the kittens along with them. Once down there, Spike lit a few candles so Buffy could see.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I maybe have one of your t-shirts to sleep in? It would be more comfortable."

The thought of Buffy in his clothes brought all sorts of thoughts to Spike's mind. "Yeah, sure." He rummaged through his drawers, then tossed her one of his black shirts. As she started to undress, he turned his back to her, reminding himself again just how much he didn't want to be dust.

"I'm decent now."

Spike looked back to see Buffy sitting on his bed, wearing one of his shirts. It was anything but 'decent.' It like one of his bloody wet dreams come to life. He swallowed, then took off his boots and belt before joining her.

"Do you usually sleep with that many clothes on?"

"I am tonight."

"I saw it all this morning."

"That's not the point. And you promised to behave."

"Sorry." When Spike continued to lie a good bit away from her, his body stiff and awkward, she asked, "So is holding me not allowed, too?"

"Probably shouldn't be."

"I need to be held, Spike. Please."

Spike took a moment to calm himself before rolling over, taking Buffy in his arms. She nestled against him immediately, and he brushed a soft kiss to her hair. He wanted this to be real, wanted it to be the Buffy who remembered him—and wanted this still.

But it wasn't, and for that moment, Spike was content with what he had.

*** *** ***

I know this one had another one of my huge gaps in posts. I've actually been working on it for a while, it's just been really slow going. But I tried to make up for it with an extra long chapter, so I hope you can all forgive me!

Review please.





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