Chapter 7:

Although Buffy had been gone for a while now, Spike had not finished his first beer. His mind was racing, but he found that he didn't want to stop himself from thinking, from feeling. All of this—the final fight with Wolfram and Hart, the Shanshu, Buffy—had his thoughts in a jumble, and he knew that numbing them wouldn't make them go away. Maybe it was this whole being human thing, making him see the world in a different light.

Or in a light at all, for that matter.

Spike strummed the top of the can with his fingers, replaying Buffy's exit in his mind over and over again. She'd kissed him. She's smiled at him. She'd promised to come back. Could it be possible that she did still have feelings for him? Could they have something now that everything had changed between them?

Spike frowned, forcing that bit of hope away. He couldn't honestly let himself believe that being human would get him Buffy. It wasn't that simple. This wasn't a fairy tale. She didn't bring him to life with a kiss so they could live happily ever after. He'd been brought to life in the wake of horrible, bloody death and destruction, and the fact that the Powers that Be had seen fit to keep him in fighting form led him to believe that there wasn't a happily ever after in the offing either.

He still wanted her, Spike was sure of that. He wanted Buffy more than he'd ever wanted anyone, anything. He wanted to spend what existence he had left at her side, finally able to touch her world of warmth and light. But what was left for them? She had moved on, started a life that didn't involve him. He'd seen only a brief glimpse of her in Rome, but she'd seemed carefree. Not the broken, tired warrior he'd known back on the Hellmouth. She was clearly happier without him, and Spike felt a pang of regret that he was keeping her away from that now, even as it mingled with his selfish desire to keep her here with him forever, no matter what the cost.

He wondered now why he'd even been turned human. What sort of reward was it anyway? He didn't get the girl, didn't get a normal life. He was in the same place he'd been before, only now without the eternal youth. Maybe Angel did get the better end of the deal…

Spike slumped in his chair, staring at the can still on the table. Redemption really was overrated.

*** *** ***

As soon as Buffy walked into the lobby of the Hyperion, Willow spotted her. "Buffy! You're here!"

Buffy smiled as the redhead approached her, meeting her halfway. "Yep. I wanted to check on the Slayers, make sure everything was going well."

"It is," Willow said. "I've been supervising the healing, and all the Slayers are going to be fine—the ones who made it here, that is."

Buffy felt a twist of guilt at the thought of how she'd essentially led those who didn't make it to their deaths. She knew that was what a general did, and had known going into this battle that some of the Slayers would die. It was what a Slayer was destined for, after all. None of that made it any easier. "How's Kennedy?" she asked, not wanting to dwell on what had been lost.

"Fine. We're going back to Brazil tomorrow morning."

"Good. I meant good that Kennedy's okay. Not in a 'get out of here now Willow' kind of way."

Willow chuckled. "I knew what you meant. Besides, pretty much all the Slayers should be fine within the next could of days, and you'll be able to head back to Italy. Looking forward to making with the smoochies with that hot new boyfriend you keep telling me about?"

"Yeah. Well, maybe." Buffy sighed, running her hand through her hair. "I don't know."

"Let me guess—Spike's making things all muddled."

"He's human now, Will. That's enough to muddle things on its own."

"Do you need to talk about it?"

Buffy blinked, surprised that Willow was even offering. In all honesty, she probably did need to talk it out with someone, but at the same time she didn't know what she could even say. "Don't you have Slayer healing to be supervising?"

"I told you, everything's fine in that department. A lot of them have already headed back to the Council. My biggest problem now has been keeping Angel's little blue friend busy."

"Illyria? Is she causing some sort of trouble? Because if she is, then we need to…"

"No. No avoidy Buffy. We've barely seen each other in over a year I know, but I'm still your friend, and I'm here for you." Willow sat down on the round couch in the middle of the lobby and patted the cushion beside her. "Come, sit. We'll have friend time."

Buffy wasn't sure she could do this now. Things were too much of a jumbled mess. How could she discuss her feelings with Willow when she couldn't even put them in words in her own mind? "What about Illyria?"

Willow shrugged. "I gave her a Rubik's cube. When I left she was still pondering why a human would find such an object appealing. She hadn't even gotten to the sticking it in her mouth phase."

"Surely she can't stick a whole Rubik's cube in her mouth."

"You'd be surprised. But sit, tell me the current drama that is the life of Buffy Anne Summers."

Buffy sighed, knowing Willow wasn't going to give up. Besides, maybe this could help her sort things out. She sat down beside Willow. "So what do you want to know?"

"Does Spike think you're getting back together with him? Or getting with him at all. I'm still not sure if your past involvement with him requires me to now use a 'back.'"

"Huh?"

"You seem all out of sorts, and I figured Spike, being Spike, would be all over you. Especially since he's human. I bet he's bringing that up every five seconds as the reason why you should be falling all head over heels in love with him now."

Buffy didn't say anything for a moment as she tried to come up with an answer to that. Is that what Willow thought of her relationship with Spike? Something one-sided, something Buffy only fell into because she wasn't thinking clearly and would never, ever go back to again? "No," Buffy said finally. "Really, we've barely even talked about where we stand now romantically. I mean, sometimes I think the feelings are still there for him, but then he pulls back. Which is probably good, because I'm so damn confused right now. I mean, I thought I was moving on, that I'd worked through the pain of losing another person I love, and then he's just here again. How do I reconcile that with the life I've built since Sunnydale? And...and what if we do start again, and I throw away everything I have in Rome only to find out that we still can't work? Can I take that chance?" Buffy stopped, taking in a deep breath.

Willow blinked. "You actually think you might want to be with Spike?"

"That's my problem, Will. I don't know."

"Wow."

"Wow what? Why are you wowing?"

"I'll be honest, Buffy. I never understood why you slept with Spike in the first place, and I didn't understand why you seemed to be letting him close again when everything was happening with the First. I mean, yeah, he had a soul then like Angel, but…"

"He is not like Angel," Buffy snapped. Willow looked at Buffy in surprise at her vehement response, and Buffy had to admit it had shocked her, too. The words had come more like a reflex than a conscious thought. "I…I just mean their two very different men," Buffy said. "And Spike's soul—it wasn't a curse. He earned it, and he did it for me."

"He couldn't have realized the magnitude of what he was doing, Buffy. He just knew that having a soul had worked for Angel, and he figured he'd try it, too."

Buffy's jaw dropped. "How can you say that?"

"Because it's Spike! I mean yeah, as far as evil vampires went, he wasn't one of the worst—well, aside from the whole homicidal rage, likes to kill Slayers thing. But he's still Spike. He's…you're better than that, Buffy."

Buffy pulled back from Willow, her body going rigid. "I used to think that, too. But I was wrong. Spike is one of the most amazing people I know. He'd do anything for someone he cares about, even let himself burn to death in a hell cavern. Tell me what's so unworthy about that, Willow."

"Buffy, I…"

"You don't know him, Willow. I do. I didn't let myself for a long time. I was too afraid of what it would mean to open myself up to him, to let myself know the man that struggled to co-exist with a demon. But I do now, and he is anything but beneath me." Buffy noticed her hands were trembling, a strong emotion coursing through her that she wasn't quite ready to put the name to yet.

"I didn't realize that things were like that between the two of you. I guess… I don't know, I just always thought Spike had some sick fascination with you, and I never quite got your part in it."

"It's not sick. Okay, so maybe he can be a bit of a pervert sometimes…" The corner of Buffy's lip tugged up in a small smile, but she kept from going much further, sobering again instead. "But he loves me, Willow. Or at least he did. Even when I tried to deny it, I knew it. And he proved it to me more than once."

"So what do you want now, Buffy?"

Buffy took a deep breath. "I want…"

"Buffy!"

Buffy felt her insides clench with dread as she saw Angel walk down the stairs towards her and Willow. A voice in the back of her mind informed her quite loudly that that was what she didn't want. She stood, smoothing her clothes with her hands. "Angel."

"I'm just gonna go and um, make sure Illyria hasn't choked on the Rubik's cube," Willow said as she made a quick exit.

Buffy's eyes darted around the lobby. She knew the hotel was filled with people, yet at the moment, she and Angel were alone. She didn't think that seemed quite fair. "Hello, Angel," Buffy said, keeping her voice steady, even.

"Hello, Buffy." He stopped in front of her, his arms crossed, and suddenly Buffy felt very small. She pulled herself up as much as she could.

"I was just here to see how the Slayers are holding up. Willow says they're fine, so I'm going to go…" Buffy didn't want to do this. Not now, not here. Every muscle in Angel's body was tensed for a confrontation, and she didn't have the energy. She started to walk away, but Angel grabbed her arm.

"We need to talk."

"About what?" Buffy asked. His cool fingers felt strange against her skin, and she noted that this was the first time Angel had touched her and she'd felt no spark.

"You know what."

"The weather?"

"Don't try to be flippant about this, Buffy. We need to talk about Spike."

Buffy sighed, pulling herself out of Angel's grasp. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Spike's human."

"Gee, Angel, that's for the newsflash. I hadn't picked up on that."

"I wasn't finished. Spike's human, and that's a bad thing."

"How? How is it bad? The Powers that Be made him human, Angel—I think they knew what they were doing."

"It wasn't them! Dammit, Buffy, you're acting like a child."

Buffy gaped. "Me? I'm acting like a child? What about you? You're sulking like a five year old who had his favorite toy taken away!"

"I am not! You're being incredibly naïve about this. Have you learned nothing in your time as the Slayer? Between Spike and the Immortal, I'm seriously beginning to question your judgment, Buffy."

"Oh my god. I can't believe you're being such an ass because you're jealous. No, wait, I can. This isn't about you. It's not about us. It's about Spike."

"That much we agree on—just not what it means. You may think you know Spike, but I've seen sides of him you've never seen. The Powers that Be never would've given him this. There's something sinister behind it. And if he's willing to just sit back and let himself be human now, well, shows how much he really cares about you."

"What in the world are you talking about? What do you expect him to do, go find Drusilla to re-sire him? The Powers did this, Angel, end of story. It seems to me like what you really care about is that he's the one who was made human and not you."

Angel gritted his teeth as he made his decision of what to say next. It wasn't something he'd ever planned on sharing with Buffy, but he had to say something to make her see reason. "I was human once, Buffy."

"Well, duh. I didn't think you were born a vampire."

"No. I mean a few years ago. My blood mixed with the blood of a demon with regenerative powers and I was human."

Buffy took a step back from him. "When? Why didn't I know about this?"

"You did."

"I did not! I think I would remember it if you were human, Angel."

Angel shook his head. "You don't remember it because I made sure you didn't. As a human, I was weak, and I couldn't protect you. I went to these oracles, asked them if me being human could hurt you. They told me you were going to die, and if I was a vampire, I might be able to protect you. So I had the day erased. We were together for that day, and it was the best day of my existence, but I loved you enough to realize that protecting you was more important than anything else."

Buffy walked backwards, sitting back down on the couch as the world spun around her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Why had Angel told her this? Did he honestly think it would make her distrust Spike? "How…could you have done that?" Buffy asked.

"I had to! They told me you would die." Much to Angel's surprise, Buffy began to laugh, although the sound of it bordered on hysterical. He frowned. "What?"

"I did die, you bastard. I faced a hellgod who wanted to bleed my sister dry, and had to throw myself off a fucking tower. You didn't protect me, Angel. You sat back and ignored everything while I died."

"Hey, I had things going on here that…"

"Were easier if you were still the vampire with the soul. The great champion of the people. If you gave up your humanity, it wasn't about me, so don't pretend like it was."

"You don't get what I'm telling you, Buffy."

Buffy stood again, and the look in her eyes was enough to almost scare Angel. "Then explain it to me. Since you apparently know what I need so much more than I do. You just tell me right now what I'm supposed to think."

"Buffy…"

"No! Don't you talk to me like I'm a fucking child! You don't get to do that, Angel. Not anymore." Buffy knew she was crying, and she hated it, but she couldn't stop. She took some solace in the fact that at least they were primarily angry tears. "You tell me what the fucking point is to all of this!"

"Spike accepting this the way he is is dangerous! Vampires don't just become human. There has to be consequences—bad ones. I realized that, and I gave up everything to make things right again. The fact that he isn't willing to even consider any of this shows that he has to have some kind of ulterior motive."

"Can you hear yourself? Do you realize how convoluted that logic is? Or the lack of logic anyway."

"It's the truth, whether you want to face it or not."

Buffy balled her fists beside her, trying to calm herself enough to come up with something to say. She felt as if her whole world had been turned upside down, and she didn't know how to deal with any of it.

As it turned out, she didn't have to. Right as she opened her mouth to speak, the doors to the Hyperion burst open, and a young man she didn't recognize came in.

Angel, on the other hand, obviously did. His eyes widened, and he stepped back from Buffy. "Connor—what are you doing here?"

Connor said nothing. Instead he responded by punching Angel as hard as he could, sending the vampire flying backwards.

Buffy watched as Angel landed sprawled on the ground, Connor standing beside her, seething with rage. She stepped back, realizing things were about to get ugly.

At least she'd have something else to focus on than the day Angel had taken away from her.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 8:

Angel lay on the floor of the Hyperion lobby, dazed. He hadn't expected Connor to come there, and he certainly hadn't expected Connor to punch him. And hard at that. The kid was strong. Even as Angel winced in pain from pulling himself off the ground, he had a bit of fatherly pride over that. "What was that for?" Angel asked his son, wiping blood off his mouth.

"You sold me out!" Connor yelled.

"What?"

"Those 'people' you so happily signed me over to—the ones you let fuck with my mind—they were Wolfram and Hart lackeys. They weren't my parents. They didn't even think they were my parents. It was all arranged so that they could get to you, and you let them! You sold me to evil without a single care to whether or not I was okay!"

"That's not true! I checked on you, made sure you were with a family."

"Did you make sure it wasn't an evil family? They're Wolfram and Hart, for Christ's sake! Did it not even enter your mind that maybe they were screwing you over?"

"It's not like I had much of a choice!" Angel yelled. "In case you've forgotten, you about to go all suicide bomber on me!"

"I woke up this morning to my mother trying to kill me! I had to fight back! I had to…" A sob choked in Connor's throat, and he fell to his knees.

Buffy watched for a moment as Angel tried to comfort his broken son before she slipped out the door.

*** *** ***

Spike opened his front door and immediately found his arms full of teary Buffy. "Let me guess—Angel?"

Buffy looked up at him and nodded. "I was in the car for a while, trying to make myself stop crying before I came in, but then I decided what I really wanted was for you to comfort me. And I know that's selfish of me, but…"

"Shh. Not selfish, luv. I'm more than willing to comfort you." Spike led her over to the couch, and Buffy surprised him by curling up in his lap, her head resting on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feel of having her so close, even if it was only like this. "You wanna talk about it, kitten?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, but…can I just cry right now?"

"Course you can. I'm right here for you."

Buffy buried her face against him, his strong embrace letting her feel like it was all right for her to be vulnerable. His hands stroked her hair and back as his soft words of comfort rumbled in his chest. She realized in a sudden flash of insight that this is what she'd wanted from him when she'd first come back from Heaven. She'd been too afraid then to admit to needing this, too afraid to accept anything from him but violent sex. She wasn't going to shy away from the comfort he could give now. In retrospect, she didn't know what she'd been so scared of. It was freeing.

After a while she looked up, meeting Spike's warm blue eyes. "Angel never loved me," Buffy said softly, the statement bringing forth fresh tears, though not like the flood they had been earlier.

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow. Those were words he'd never expected to hear coming from Buffy. "Why do you say that?"

"He…he was human once. Something about demon blood regenerating him. I was there—it was right after he came to Sunnydale that Thanksgiving to stalk me, and I'd gone to LA to talk to him about it. He told me today that we got together then, but some oracles told him I was going to die. He had them turn back the day so he'd still be a vampire, and I wouldn't remember anything."

"Him being human was going to kill you?"

"No. All I can think is they must've meant what happened with Glory. They told him if he was still a vampire, he'd have a chance at protecting me."

Spike's whole body tensed, and Buffy saw the anger clearly on his face. "He knew you were going to die?"

"Apparently."

Spike started to get up, but Buffy held him in place. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To kill him," Spike replied matter-of-factly.

"Spike!"

"He let you die, Buffy! He claimed to love you, and he left you to die without so much as a warning!"

"I know! Hence the earlier 'Angel never loved me,' statement. But killing him won't make anything any better."

"See, that's where we disagree."

Buffy playfully slapped his chest. "Behave. Besides, when I left things were bad enough that he could be dusty now anyway."

"Don't go getting my hopes up like that, woman. What's going on over there?"

"Angel's son…Connor? Anyway, turns out Wolfram and Hart set him up with a dummy family to fool Angel. I think the guy had to kill his fake mother this morning."

Spike's eyes grew wide. "Wow. Angel's just screwing everyone over these days. Were they fighting?"

"Connor punched him to make his entrance, then there was some yelling, but by the time I left he was just crying."

"Poor kid. He's had it rough up to now anyway. Wesley spilled most of the story to me once in the middle of one of his benders. Wasn't pretty. And now this on top of it…"

"Yeah. I'm thinking serious psychological trauma for lil' Angel."

Spike relaxed some, folding his arms around Buffy. "How are you feeling about all of this?"

"I don't know. Even when I'd really grown past what I had with Angel, I still clung to the belief that what we'd had had been real. Like sixteen-year-old Buffy was still inside of me, and she didn't want to let go. But this… I mean, maybe if he had really done something to protect me, I could have accepted his reason. But he didn't. Hell, the next time I saw him, he told me to stay in Sunnydale because LA was his town."

"Wanker."

Buffy chuckled at Spike's simple response. She knew he could've said—and probably wanted to say—a whole lot more, but the way he was patiently sitting there, watching her, let her know he was giving her the floor so she could vent her own feelings. His anger at Angel was still there, right under the surface, but she needed to get this out, and he wasn't going to let her.

"Do you know what the worst part of it is? I think I knew. Sort of anyway. It didn't click until after Angel told me, but I kept having these dreams, starting right after when I came back from LA that time. I'd dream Angel and I were in an apartment together, or that we were standing on the pier, kissing in the sunlight. I was always happy in those dreams, and I felt like he was, too. Later, when I saw the inside of the apartment he lived in before the Hyperion for the first time, it registered that it was the same one from my dream, but I dismissed it. Years of Slayer dreams make déjà vu really common, you know? But I think now that I was remembering parts of that day." Buffy was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. "We were happy. But it wasn't enough for him. I wasn't enough for him. I'm never enough for anyone."

"You were always enough for me."

"No I wasn't. I never gave you enough, Spike."

Spike grasped her shoulders and turned her to look at him. "Hey. Listen to me. You gave me more than enough, Buffy. All I asked you for was crumbs, remember? And yeah, you may not have given me the whole bread loaf, but I think I got more than the crumbs."

"I think I gave you the stale crust," Buffy muttered.

Spike chuckled. "You gave me more than that, pet. Those nights you let me hold you—and that last night in Sunnydale when you let me make love to you the way I'd always wanted to—that was more than stale bread crust, and a hell of a lot more than crumbs."

"I told you I love you, too."

"Yeah, you did."

Buffy settled back down against his chest as they both grew silent, letting the moment stand. And then it hit her. This was love. Not the play she'd acted through with Angel, where everything was romanticized and Shakespearean. Not what she'd had with Riley where she searched only for stability and comfort. It was this. She and Spike had torn each other apart time and time again, both done things that still horrified her to think about, and yet here they were. She needed strength now, and he was giving it to her, no questions asked and demanding nothing from her in return. Good, bad, it didn't matter. He was here. He loved her, and he was here.

She realized it now, although with what she'd come to associate with her lot in life, it was a little late in coming. She'd let him go when she shouldn't have, and now they'd both moved on. She'd have to go back to her life in Italy and leave him here with his life in LA. Then this would be gone. She clutched his shirt tightly in her fists, needing the contact with him more than anything.

Spike stroked her back, figuring the realization of what she'd lost with Angel was finally really hitting her. He'd always known his grandsire was a moron, but to do this… To have Buffy and let her go… And for what? If he knew Angel as well as he thought he did, Spike would bet that whatever the motive was behind Angel's actions, it was a selfish one, even if he tried to make it count towards his carefully cultivated long-suffering hero image. Spike knew he'd give up his own newfound humanity in a second if someone told him it was the only way to keep Buffy alive, but he certainly wouldn't follow that up by turning around and abandoning her. That only made sense in the way that didn't. You didn't do that to someone you loved. You didn't leave them to die.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, with Buffy in his arms crying so hard her whole body shook, but he let her stay there as long as she needed, even after his leg started to cramp and his arm tingled from poor circulation. Finally, she looked up at him, her face red and splotchy, but her eyes no longer forming tears. "I'm sorry I fell apart like that," she said, her voice scratchy from a now-raw throat.

"Don't be. I'm always happy to be your shoulder to cry on, Buffy. You know that."

"Yeah, I do," she admitted. "I got your shirt all wet…"

"Pity, too, since it's not like I have a million other black t-shirts."

Buffy smirked. "Smart ass."

"It's cute, too, y'know."

"So I've noticed."

There was a hint of mischief in her eyes when she spoke. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to ruin the moment the way he feared that would. He didn't have that with her anymore. Instead, he looked away from her, and Buffy stood up, stretching her arms.

"Do you think maybe I could take a shower?" she asked.

"Of course, pet. Want me to find something for you change in to afterwards? I think I have some sweats."

"That would be great."

"I'll be right back." Spike went into his bedroom, reemerging a couple minutes later with a t-shirt ad sweatpants for Buffy. He'd changed his shirt during that time as well, though the only way she could tell was by the fact that the one he was wearing now was dry.

"Thanks," Buffy said as she took the clothes from him. "I'll be out soon."

"Take as long as you need."

Buffy gave him a warm smile before going into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Spike sat back on the couch and turned on the television, hoping it would take his mind off thoughts of wet, naked Buffy in his apartment.

*** *** ***

Buffy wondered if it should feel strange to be standing in Spike's shower. It didn't, and she had a feeling she'd be a lot more uncomfortable showering at the Hyperion. She felt relaxed, and was glad that Spike seemed okay with her staying with him while she was in LA.

She couldn't help but smirk at the bottles of KMS color vitality blonde shampoo and blonde treatment, complete with weathered but visible tags that announced their salon origin. The bottles boasted that their contents would "control unwanted yellow, warm, and brassy tones" as well as "balance moisture while adding shine and body." Leave it to the Big Bad to secretly care about that.

Despite telling Spike she'd be out soon, she stayed in the shower for as long as the water was warm, enjoying the feel of it cascading down her skin and easing her tension. This day had been hard for her, but at the same time it had felt cathartic, at least where her relationship with Angel was concerned. For the first time since she was sixteen years she could honestly say that her love for him was in the past. She'd loved him in the deepest way her young mind could conceive of, and even with all the pain that love had brought her, she still couldn't say she necessarily regretted it. But she no longer looked at it from the naïve eyes of childhood. Angel had not been her knight in shining armor. They hadn't shared some grand love that had transcended all. It had merely been what it was, and now it was over.

Maybe Angel did love her, in his way, but she knew now it wasn't real. It was something that faded with time and distance. He could put a warning of her death out of his mind because he was "busy." She tried to imagine Spike doing the same thing and couldn't. He'd stood beside her in that final battle with Glory, willing to give his life for her and Dawn out of nothing more than love. He hadn't even had a soul.

Buffy realized something about herself then, about why she'd feared Spike's love the way she had. It all boiled down to a simple question: If he could love her, why couldn't Angelus? She'd known the answer to that all along, and she hadn't wanted to face it. It had been easier for her to challenge Spike's love than Angel's, and that's what she'd done. But now she looked back on it with clear retrospective vision and knew the truth.

She turned off the now-cool water and stepped out of the shower, using a towel to rub the excess water from her hair before wrapping it around her. She did feel better now, cleansed in more ways that one. She dried off and slipped into Spike's clothes, deciding in favor of forgoing underwear over putting the same pair back on. She hadn't exactly packed for an extended stay when she'd hurried out of Rome to face this last apocalypse, and she was going to need to do a little shopping soon.

Buffy frowned. How long was she going to stay here? She'd only talked to Dawn once since she got here, letting her know she'd live thought this battle, but not saying much else. She should be taking care of her, being a better sister than this. She really didn't have to stay here with Spike. Giles would be there soon, and he could figure out what was going on without Buffy being present.

But Buffy decided that wouldn't be right, just leaving Spike alone with Giles like that. She'd stay in LA until they had a clearer idea of what had happened to Spike. It was the least she could do.

She walked out of the bathroom, smirking when she saw what Spike had been doing to pass the time while she was in the shower. "Video games, huh?"

Spike paused the game and looked up at Buffy. "Yeah. Got it after my hands were chopped off. Physical therapy and all that. Don't know why I keep playing though. That damn barrel-throwing monkey doesn't fight fair."

"Wait, did you just say your hands were chopped off?"

"Oh. Yeah. That crazy Slayer of yours—Dana—didn't seem to think I needed them anymore."

Buffy winced. "God, Spike, I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "It's all right. I've had worse. Besides, they got stuck right back on, and they're as good as ever."

"Glad to hear that. Those are some damn talented hands."

Spike raised his eyebrows, but Buffy didn't blush or try to back out of her statement. Instead that mischievous glint from earlier returned to her eyes. Didn't she have any idea what it did to him when she was like this?

Apparently not, he decided, when she sat down beside him and grabbed his arm, running her fingers across his skin. "Where did she cut it off?" Buffy asked.

"About here," Spike replied, pointing with his other hand to a spot on his arm.

Buffy touched him again, and Spike took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. All she was doing was touching his arm, and he was nearing his limit. Why did she still have to have such a strong effect on him?

"There's no scar," Buffy said.

"No. The Wolfram and Hart shamans saw to that."

Spike had thought her touching him had been hard to handle, but it was nothing compared to what she did next. Buffy leaned down and pressed small kisses against his skin, tracing the line where the scar would've been had there been one. She flipped his arm over and completed the circle on the other side, and Spike couldn't help but moan.

The sound made a rush of desire shoot through Buffy. She wasn't quite sure what had possessed her to do that, but she'd reveled in the feel of his skin against her lips. But it hadn't been enough. She wanted more, wanted to feel him inside of her again. However, desire aside, she couldn't let things go that far when she didn't intend to stay. It wasn't fair to Spike. She'd used him in the past, and she wasn't going to do it again. That's what had really been "wrong" about their relationship before—her own selfish, uncaring behavior.

She sat up straight, pulling away from him a bit. "I'm getting sorta hungry. Wanna order a pizza?"

Spike's first thought was somewhere in the neighborhood of "huh?" Was she trying to be a cruel tease? She'd just done whatever the hell that was to his arm, and now she was talking about pizza? Did she still want him, was she playing with his head, or did she honestly not know how wild she could drive him?

He guessed it didn't matter. It wasn't like Buffy was going to throw away her life in Italy and her hot romance with the Immortal to come share his tiny bed ins his dark, basement-like apartment.

"Pizza sounds great, pet."

*** *** ***

Review please. Reviews are what inspire me to write. Without them, there is no story, because then I'll think no one wants to read it…
 

Chapter 9:

There was something off about sitting there with Buffy, on his couch, eating pizza while they watched television. Spike couldn't quite place what it was, only that it wasn't normal.

Then it hit him.

They were relaxed. Even with the events of the day, the atmosphere in his living room now was calm. There was no bickering and no great fog of angst clinging to them. They were sharing a quiet evening in.

It was like a dream come true. Aside from the fact that she wasn't actually his girlfriend, and he would lose this as soon as she decided to go back to Rome and that poncey git the Immortal, of course. He decided not to think about that. Now felt good. He wasn't going to ruin it by dwelling on tomorrow.

He glanced over at Buffy. Her hair was still slightly damp, her face was free of make-up, and she was wearing an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. But she was smiling—really smiling—and he decided she'd never looked more beautiful. He still loved her as much as ever—more so if that was even possible—but he fought back any urge to actually speak the words. Even if she had meant it in the Hellmouth, things had changed since then. She couldn't still feel that way. Why would she love him when she had the supposedly perfect lover waiting for her back home?

Still, a few times that day he'd sworn the look in her eyes had been love. But he couldn't let himself believe that, no matter how much he wanted to. He'd waited desperately for Buffy's love in the past, and it had left him with nothing but heartache. He couldn't put himself through that again, especially now when he knew that it would be hopeless. Instead, he'd enjoy this little time he had left with her. It was more than he'd ever expected to get, after all.

They finished eating, and Buffy slid over on the couch, resting her head on his shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and nervous. "Is this okay?"

Spike put his arm around her. "Yeah, it's fine."

She smiled at him before getting comfortable and turning her attention back to the show. Spike didn't know what made her want to be close to him like this, but he didn't care. It was what he wanted, too, and even the little bit of contact was nice.

Neither one said a word as they simply enjoyed the closeness they knew would be all too fleeting.

*** *** ***

It had taken some sedatives he'd gotten from the Slayer General Hospital set up in his hotel, but Angel had finally gotten Connor to calm down. He was sleeping now, and Angel decided to leave him alone for a while, possibly get some rest himself.

Angel found an empty room and decided to stay there for the night. He was beginning to think that tearing his room to shreds had probably not been the most productive way to deal with his anger. It hadn't left him with much. The room he was in now was similar to his own, but different enough to set things off a bit. He lay on the bed, staring into nothing as his thoughts swarmed through his head.

He couldn't even bring himself to think really about Connor. He had messed that up more than he'd even dreamed possible, and all he could do was hate himself for not reading the fine print, for trusting Wolfram and Hart. He should've known that they'd do something to trick him.

But the thought that really made him sick now was the knowledge that, at the time, he hadn't really cared. He'd seen an opportunity, and he'd taken it. He'd believed himself to be helping his son along with the bargain, but that hadn't been all for him. He'd wanted to bring down Wolfram and Hart, and they'd offered him his in. He'd taken it without any real thought to the consequences.

Not so bright in retrospect.

He couldn't deal with it. Nothing had gone right, and he couldn't even wrap his head around how much worse he'd made things. Sure, he'd brought down the building, but, well, they'd certainly recovered nicely from that zombie incident… And this was only the Los Angeles branch. Wolfram and Hart was everywhere, in this dimension and in others. He'd done nothing but hurt those closest to him.

And Buffy… How much had he messed that up? He winced as he replayed their conversation in his mind. God, what could she be thinking right now? He hadn't said anything the way he'd meant to, and he'd just made it all sound worse than it really was. Or had he? A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that Buffy wouldn't exactly have appreciated his "I have to not be human so you won't die protecting me" excuse either. And now, looking back on it, it seemed weak even to him. He was the one who'd gotten hurt that day by trying to protect Buffy. And when he really thought about it, he knew she'd put him behind her duty if need be. She had sent him to Hell…

He wasn't sure he could handle thinking about her either. He was second guessing himself more than he ever had in the past, and he knew it came from a feeling of being lost. When he'd seen Connor today, sobbing for the loss of what he'd been given and then had so cruelly ripped away, Angel had felt everything crumble. His son was broken and it was his fault.

He'd destroyed everything around him, hurt everyone.

He squeezed his eyes tight, wanting the thoughts, the memories, the fears to go away. But they were screaming inside his head, forcing him to take a long hard look at parts of himself he'd wanted to keep forever buried.

He opened his eyes again when he felt a hand run across his cheek. When he saw who was looking down at him, he smiled.

Cordelia… She was here again. He'd come to the conclusion after the last time that he'd finally lost his sanity and was hallucinating, but he didn't care. When he saw her, she felt so real, and it was good enough for him. Even if it was only an illusion, he had her back for a little while at least.

"Rough day, champ?"

"Cordy…" Angel said softly, reaching his hand out to her.

Cordelia lay down on the bed beside him, resting against his chest. "I'm here with you for now, Angel. We don't have to talk about it, and you don't have to worry. I know things seem impossible right now, but it's going to be okay."

"Do you promise?" Angel asked, his voice small and belying his fear. He'd never felt quite this broken before, even when he'd lived in alleys feeding off of rats. He'd lost it all…

"Yes. I won't lie to you, Angel. You have a lot of hard things you're going to have to face, a lot of mistakes you're going to have to own up to. But they don't matter right now. You need to rest, and I'm here to make sure you can."

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

"I don't know. I want to be, but I'm not sure I can."

Angel didn't ask why. "Can you try to be?"

"Yeah, I will. But sleep now. Things will be clearer if you rest."

Angel nodded, his eyes sliding shut. He did feel better, just having her here. Her presence this time was soothing. He wrapped his arms around her, drifting off to sleep with Cordelia there to hold.

*** *** ***

Buffy was tired. She'd seen Spike try to stifle a couple of yawns, and she knew he was, too, but going to sleep meant, well, sleeping arrangements. She was sure he didn't have a guest room tucked away somewhere, which meant the only bed was the tiny one in the bedroom. Logically, one of them would take the bed and the other would take the couch.

She felt a little guilty for thinking it, but she didn't want logic. She knew nothing could really happen here. She'd already made up her mind that despite the fact part of her still wanted Spike, she couldn't have him. Sex would only complicate things between them further, and neither one of them needed that.

That didn't mean she couldn't sleep next to him, or so Buffy decided. Those nights in Sunnydale when he'd held her had been some of the best of her life, and she wanted that again, even if it was for only one last time. "I'm tired," she told him.

Spike looked over at her, regarding her for a moment before he said, "Yeah, me, too." He pulled away from her, trying to mask it with a stretch, but she knew what he was doing. He was trying to distance himself from her. "Bed's not great, but it's better than the couch, so you can have it. I'll sleep out here."

Buffy shook her head. "No."

"No? Well, if you really want the couch, then I guess…"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you…" Spike trailed off as realization hit him. "Buffy, no. Just…not that, okay?"

Buffy reached out, resting her hand on his leg. "I'm not asking you for anything big, Spike. I just…I'd sleep better tonight if I wasn't alone. I think you would, too."

Spike let out a heavy sigh. He would sleep better. But it also wouldn't be enough for him, he knew. He wanted her so badly it made every bit of him ache. To hold her and not be allowed to love her… Still, he realized it was all he was being offered, all he'd ever be offered again. He could sleep with her in his arms, could sleep with her scent surrounding him. He'd want more, but he knew this would have to be enough. It was all he was getting. "Right, well, bed's sorta small…"

"So was that cot in my basement."

Spike nodded, nothing else for him to say.

Buffy pointed towards the bathroom. "I'm just going to get ready for bed, and I'll be right in."

Another nod, and Spike went into the bedroom. When Buffy came to join him, he was lying on top of the covers, wearing a pair of sweatpants similar to the ones he'd given her. She wondered if he still slept nude when he was alone, and felt herself blush slightly. Even with the sweatpants, though, she was able to see his chest, and it made her mouth water. Why did he still have to be so gorgeous? It only made this harder.

Spike pushed himself off the bed. "I'll be right back," he told her before going into the bathroom himself.

Buffy walked to the foot of the bed and stopped. It seemed even smaller now as the realization of what she'd asked Spike for hit her. She was going to be sleeping next to him tonight. There would be no way they wouldn't be touching each other. It seemed more real now, as the image of her in bed with a half-dressed Spike came into her mind, and she had a moment of panic.

She took a deep breath. She wasn't going to do this. She could be mature. She wanted Spike here with her, and she'd meant it when she'd told him she'd sleep better if she wasn't alone. She started to lie down on top of the blankets, but then she decided she wasn't going to do this half way. She slipped under the covers, waiting for Spike.

She could hear the sink running in the bathroom, and it struck her at how domestic this was. This is what it would be like if they were a couple, and she wasn't sure what to call the feelings that thought made rise in her. She pushed them away, deciding that she might analyze them later. The bathroom door creaked open, and Buffy's heart thumped in her chest. This was it. Any moment now, Spike would be in this bed with her. She almost panicked, considered running.

"I can still sleep on the couch."

His words made up her mind. She didn't want him that far away, simple as that. "No, don't."

Spike didn't say anything else as he got into the bed beside her. He turned his back towards her, and Buffy bit her lip. This wasn't right. She tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to look at her. She could see the conflict in his eyes as he finally decided to face her. Buffy moved up against him, and he stiffened for a moment before wrapping his arms around her.

It was then that Buffy realized there was a factor here she hadn't counted on. Spike was alive. She'd known it, sure, but she hadn't counted on what it would mean. He was holding her, and he was so warm. He was breathing, and it wasn't his usually artificial breathing he'd always done before. She could feel his warm breath as it brushed over her, could hear his heart pounding in his chest. She realized from its quick beat that he was just as nervous as she was, and that soothed her somehow.

Buffy decided she could think in the morning, if she wanted to. Right now, she was going to sleep in the arms of a human Spike. It was warm and comforting, and it was where she wanted to be. Neither one of them said anything, the only sound in the room their synched breathing. Spike's hand was lightly stroking her back, and Buffy smiled.

She let the rhythm of Spike's heartbeat lull her to sleep.

*** *** ***

 

Chapter 10:

Daylight

By: Addie Logan

Angel woke up alone, devoid of anything to let him know Cordelia had been there other than the empty ache in his chest her absence caused. It wasn't a surprise, but that didn't make it any less painful.

He got out of the bed and went downstairs, noticing how much quieter the hotel was now. Willow was behind the front desk, and Angel walked up to her, leaning on the counter. "Where is everyone?"

Willow looked up. "Oh. Hi, Angel. Most of the Slayers are gone. A few are still recuperating, and I decided to stay and oversee things since Buffy is...too busy with other things."

"Did she go back to Rome?"

Willow shifted nervously in her chair. She'd rather just stay out of whatever was going on with Angel, Buffy, and Spike. "No. She's still in LA." Willow hoped he'd let her leave it at that.

He didn't. "Where is she? She's not staying here with the other Slayers."

"No, she isn't."

"She's with Spike, isn't she?"

"I don't know. She didn't tell me where she was going when she left." That was the truth, after all. It didn't matter that where she'd gone was obvious to almost anyone.

"Dammit. She shouldn't be alone with him."

Willow honestly didn't understand what kept drawing Buffy to Spike. She didn't really dislike him so much as it just wasn't the kind of relationship she would've chosen for her friend. Still, she didn't think that Angel had much of a right to try to interfere with Buffy's decisions. He'd done enough damage already. "Spike isn't going to hurt her, Angel. He's not even a vampire anymore."

"That doesn't make him no longer potentially dangerous."

Willow was tired. She'd been working to heal Slayers and clean up the mess left over from yet another apocalypse for days now, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with one of Angel's fits. "Look, I don't know what's going on with Spike and Buffy, and I can't say I necessarily approve of whatever it is, but I can say that he never snapped the neck of someone I cared about."

Angel stepped back. "I didn't have a soul then."

"Yeah, and when Spike didn't have a soul, he still managed to protect Dawn and show kindness to Tara, among other things." Willow smiled inwardly when Angel winced. "Look, if you're trying to find support from me, you're not going to get it. I accepted you in Sunnydale for Buffy's sake, but if the topic for discussion is who I trust more, you or Spike, it's going to be Spike."

Angel's expression hardened. "Fine. I'm going upstairs to check on my son."

As Angel left the lobby, Willow thought about how quickly she'd jumped to Spike's defense. From that, she remembered how upset Buffy had been over what Willow had said earlier about Spike. Willow realized with a bit of shame how unfair she'd been the day before. She didn't get it with Spike, that much was true, but she suspected Buffy still had feelings for him"maybe even loved him. She owed it to her friend to make an attempt to understand like she should have years ago. She'd let Buffy down, and while she couldn't make up for that, she could do something now before she lost her friend completely.

Willow stood up, deciding there was no time like to present to start making amends.

Buffy opened her eyes slowly, noting how well rested she felt. Nightmares had plagued her since she'd left what used to be Sunnydale behind. Almost every night, she'd been forced her to relive the same moment over and over. But they hadn't come this time, her mind letting her sleep peacefully instead. She looked up, her gaze locking with intense blue eyes, and she knew why the nightmares had gone.

No reason to dream of someone dying when you're sleeping in their arms...

"Sleep well, kitten?"

Spike's voice was deep and husky from sleep, and from her position on his chest, Buffy could feel the vibrations coursing through her entire body. "Mmm...very well." She nuzzled herself closer to Spike and pressed a small kiss against his neck.

Spike nudged Buffy away from him as he scrambled to get out of the bed. He took a few steps back, putting distance between them. "What time is Giles getting here?" he asked.

Buffy's good mood immediately plummeted. She hadn't been completely awake when she'd responded to Spike the way she had, the feel of being in his warm arms overriding her brain. She sat up, clutching the sheet in her hands. "Spike...I didn't mean..."

"Yeah, I know you didn't, so let's not push it anymore, all right? Let's just focus on business. What time?"

"Some time this afternoon. He had a hard time booking a decent flight on such short notice. I gave him your address, and he said he'd take a cab when he gets to LA."

"We just wait here for him then?"

"I guess."

"You and me, alone in the apartment."

"We've been alone in here since last night, Spike. Who else would be here?"

Spike wasn't sure he could handle this. It had been difficult enough being around her the night before, but after this morning, it was going to be torture. He'd been awake for at least an hour before Buffy had woken up, watching her, holding her, drowning in her. That alone had been enough to almost drive him to the edge, and the soft kiss she'd given him had all but pushed him the rest of the way. "I need to take a shower," he announced, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Spike left the room quickly, and Buffy buried her face in her hands. She knew she shouldn't have pushed the boundaries between them this morning, but Spike had never reacted to her touch that way before. He didn't even want to be alone with her. She'd never seen him closed off like this, never seen him guarding his emotions so carefully. She missed the way he used to look at her, the way she could always see his love, whether she'd wanted to see it in the past or not.

But what could she reasonably expect other than this distance? She'd told him that whatever they had in the past was over, that she'd soon be going back to Rome. How could she long for him to feel for her the way he once did if she still wouldn't reciprocate? She'd done that to him once before, and she couldn't again. It wasn't fair to him, and she wasn't going to let herself be that person again.

She had had a chance at Spike's love once, and she'd thrown it away. She'd taken it for granted, and now he'd taken it away.

Spike stood in the bathroom in his jeans, his hair still damp from the cold shower he'd taken. Turns out it was only slightly more effective when you were something other than room temperature. He'd been hoping for better results. Maybe he would have if Buffy hadn't still been only in the next room. In his bed...

He growled in frustration. If she was going to go back to Rome, why didn't she just bloody do it already and let him live in peace?

His reflection was staring at him now, watching him like a voyeur. He didn't like it, didn't like being held up for examination to his own eyes. After so many years without one, it was unsettling, something that shouldn't be there. He barely knew his own face anymore. He toweled off his hair, then looked closer into the mirror, trying to regard his two-dimensional double with a detached eye, relearning the view it gave him. His roots were starting to show and his curls were unruly, but he didn't care. What did it matter if he was presentable anyway? Besides, maybe if he looked like a wreck, Buffy would keep her tempting little hands to herself.

He pulled his t-shirt on over his head, tucking the bottom of it into his jeans. He could hear Buffy in the kitchen, and he took a deep, calming breath. It amazed him how much he wanted to be around her and wanted her far away at the same time. That woman had always been able to wreak havoc on his emotions.

Spike stepped out of the bathroom, watching Buffy as she moved around his tiny kitchen, a small smile tugging at his lips. He knew it wouldn't last, but for a moment he allowed himself to enjoy this domesticity with the woman he loved. "I see you found the coffee."

"Yes." Buffy turned to look at him. "Is this all right?"

"You making coffee? Yeah, it's fine. Make me a cup while you're at it?"

"I don't know about that. I've seen you hyper."

"Come on. Have pity on the man not used to a human body." He gave her a small pout, and Buffy felt her heart flip. It wasn't fair that he was still so damn gorgeous. His curls were free of gel, and their rumpled look was unbelievably sexy. Her fingers ached to have a chance to run through them.

"Fine. But go easy on the sugar. I don't want a repeat of the Triple Expresso Incident."

"Oh please. That was not that bad."

"Your eyes weren't blinking, Spike. And you were doing that thing where you bounce on your toes."

"What thing where I bounce on my toes?"

"It's a thing you do when you're hyper. You kind of rock back and forth."

"I do not."

"Oh you so do."

"I..." A knock at the door the door cut him off. "Is Giles supposed to be here already?"

"No. His plane doesn't land for a little while yet. Are you expecting company?"

"No. You?"

"No." Spike walked to the door, checking through the peephole, a look of surprise and then concern when he saw who it was. "It's Willow."

Buffy frowned. What was Willow doing here? And how did she find this place in the first place? Buffy sighed, figuring Willow must've gotten better at locater spells. "Well, open the door."

Spike did, regarding the witch with an impassive expression. "Red."

"Hi Spike. Long time no see."

"Yeah. Burnin' up and then gettin' stuck in LA as a ghost sort of put a damper on my social life."

"You were a ghost?"

"Long story. So what brings you to my doorstep?"

"I came to see Buffy."

Buffy came around from Spike then, and Willow noticed the casual way Buffy rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm here. Is there something wrong? Did any of the Slayers..."

"Oh, no, everything's fine. I just...I just wanted to talk to you." Willow glanced apprehensively at Spike, keenly aware of the fact that he hadn't invited her into his apartment.

"Right then," Spike said, sensing Willow's desire to speak to Buffy alone. "There's a bakery down the street. I'll go grab something for breakfast while you two chat."

"Baked goods and coffee? I think you may be pushing your caffeine and sugar intake there, pal," Buffy said, elbowing him in the side lightly. "I'm going to have to tie you down."

"Now now, Slayer, it's not nice to tease a bloke with sweet words like that," Spike said with a wink. He stepped back to both give Willow room to come into the apartment and to avoid Buffy's attempt to smack him. "I'll just go put on my boots, and then I'll get out of your hair."

As Spike went into the bedroom, Buffy motioned for Willow to come in, then shut the door behind her. Willow glanced around, her nervousness apparent. "Not used to seeing Spike live anywhere but a crypt," she said.

"Yeah, well, he's making with the above ground dwelling these days."

Spike came back out of the bedroom then, causing Willow to grow silent again. "Any requests, Buffy?"

She shrugged. "Whatever. You know what I like."

"All right. You kids play nice." He gave Buffy a smile, then left the apartment, locking the door behind him.

"Have a seat," Buffy said, making a sweeping gesture in the direction of the couch before sitting down herself. There was an awkward silence between the two once-close friends before Willow spoke.

"So you and Spike slipped back into it pretty quickly."

"Huh?"

Willow held up her hands. "I'm not being judgey, I promise. I just noticed there how coupley you two were, so soon after reuniting."

"Again, huh? Spike and I aren't a couple."

"Really, I'm not going to judge you over it, Buffy. I mean, that's actually part of the reason why I came today, to apologize for how I acted at the Hyperion yesterday, and tell you that I'm okay with any choices you make regarding Spike. I mean, if he makes you happy, then there's no reason in the world for me to look down on the whole thing."

"I appreciate that, but we're not together. I'm going back to Rome soon."

"Oh," Willow said, her brow wrinkling. The way Spike and Buffy had been when she'd come to the door, she could've sworn they were together. "So why aren't you back with him? I mean, if it's okay for me to ask that..."

"It's just over between us," Buffy said tersely. "I have a life in Rome, he has one here. End of story. So did you come over here just to discuss me and Spike?"

"No. Well, sort of. But I already did that part, I guess." Willow took a deep breath. "I also want to apologize. And I know that saying 'I'm sorry' really isn't enough, but it's all I really know that I can do right now."

Buffy frowned, unsure how to take Willow's sudden apology. "What are you sorry for?"

"For, well, for being a bad friend I guess. I haven't been there for you at all, not this past year, and not for a long time back in Sunnydale either. And...and I know I'm to blame for how messed up your life was and, Buffy, I'm so sorry..."

Buffy watched as Willow's eyes filled with tears, and the sight made her feel conflicted. On the one hand, she wanted Willow to feel guilty. She had been a "bad friend" on more levels than Buffy could even begin to describe. But on the other hand, Buffy didn't really feel the need to hold a grudge. Things had happened that neither woman was proud of, and while Buffy knew she'd never be as close to Willow as she'd once been, she didn't want to push her completely out of her life either. Good or bad, they'd shared too much for that.

"It's okay. You didn't single handedly screw up my life. I'm not going to lie and say you didn't help, but it's all in the past now. And, well, I'm over it. Coming back from heaven was difficult, but I think in the long run, things worked out for the best."

Willow looked up, hopeful. "So you don't hate me?"

"What? No! I never hated you, Will. I was mad, yeah, and you weren't my favorite person there for a while, but I never hated you. You're, well, you're family, and good or bad, I'll always love you."

Willow sniffed. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I thought...well, I thought I'd killed our friendship forever, you know? Like we were just going to drift apart and be that kind of people you see at reunions and you think 'Wow, they were so close in high school, and now look at them!' Although I guess we can't really be those people, since our high school blew up"twice"but you know what I mean."

Buffy smirked. "No, we won't be those people." She was surprised at how true the words sounded to her. No, they weren't going to be as close as they were as kids, but Willow was still her friend. And she'd missed her. It hit Buffy now just how much she'd missed having her around this past year. Buffy reached out, wrapping her arms around Willow in a friendly hug, her eyes tearing up. "I've missed you," she admitted aloud.

Willow returned the hug. "Me, too. You were my best friend, Buffy."

"You, too, Will. You, too."

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel. This story is not for profit. "Daylight" is Alison Krauss and Union Station, from the album New Favorite. Usually, this is where I'd say something witty about not suing me or whatnot, but I'm out of clever things to say at the moment...

Rating: R

Summary: When the Powers that Be decide to "reward" a vampire with a soul, Buffy finds herself forced to realize that maybe things aren't what she always thought they were... (Spike/Buffy)

Spoilers: This picks up directly after "Not Fade Away," so everything on both shows is fair game here.

Author's Note: First off, I'd like to make it clear that I'm not one for character "bashing." Writing negative portrayals of a character simply because I don't like them isn't my style, seeing as it tends to lead to bad characterization and weak plots. However, in this fic I do make several of what I feel to be justified points concerning the negative aspects of Angel's character. While I respect that everyone has their own opinion and will certainly listen to your point of view should you feel the need to write me an email about how Buffy and Angel have the truest love ever, and I'm just a deluded psycho who's been blinded by the shininess of Spike's hair, I'd prefer not to. So, if you're a rabid B/A shipper (which if you're at most of the sites where I post you're probably not, but I just want to cover my bases), or even just such a big fan of Angel that you feel he can do no wrong, I suggest navigating your browser away from this page.

Also, you may notice some similarities to my earlier fic "After the End Has Come and Gone." The two stories aren't identical by any means, but I deal with some of the same issues in this fic as I did in that one. "After the End..." was the first Buffy fic I began, and there were several key episodes I had not seen when I started it. I feel that as my knowledge of the show and the characters expanded, that fic sort of fell apart. I had a few things planned that I wanted to do with it, but by then end it was such a mess that I just concluded and was done with it. Now I feel like I can better accomplish what I really meant to do with that story, and I'm attempting to try again from a different angle here. So yes, some minor things are the same, but it will in no means be the same story. It follows a different plot, and my approach to many of these issues will be different.

I'd also like to thank Niamh for the opportunity to share rants and plot bunnies with her. wink I don't think I ever would've had my thoughts sorted out enough to write this fic otherwise.

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the best invention since Domino's cheesy bread. (I love that stuff...) Leaving it makes me a happy little author who wants to write even more. Also, I allow archiving, but if you've never archived any of my stuff before, ask before hand. If you already have me on your site, then go ahead and add anything else you want.

Daylight

By: Addie Logan

Spike had returned with donuts. Buffy wasn't surprised that he'd gotten her favorite. After all, she'd meant it when she told him he knew what she liked.

What did surprise her is that he'd also remembered Willow's. Had Spike honestly paid that much attention back in the Scooby days?

It was quiet around Spike's small table now, none of the three people in the room knowing quite how to start a conversation. Willow had been fiddling through most of the meal, and finally she broke the silence, obviously unable to take it anymore.

"So what are you planning to do now that you're human?" she asked Spike.

Spike shrugged. "Probably the same as I was doing. Fight the good fight and whatnot."

"But won't you have problems with that now that you're not a vampire?" Willow asked. "I mean, the whole demon fighting thing isn't nearly as easy without superpowers, trust me."

Buffy and Spike shared a poignant look, and Spike took a deep breath before he answered, deciding there was no real reason to lie about what he was. "I still have my superpowers."

"Oh." Then Spike's answer sunk in, and Willow did a double take. "Huh?"

"I still have my powers. Well, I can't go all bumpy in the forehead region, but I'm not exactly Average Joe either."

"So you're not...human?"

Spike shrugged. "Don't know what I am. I'm not a vamp. The beating heart's sort of a give-away as far as that goes. Other than that, we're not sure."

Willow turned to Buffy. "Is this why you're still here?"

Buffy nodded. "Giles is on his way to LA. He's going to look over Spike, make with the tests and the research, see what we can figure out."

"I can help," Willow said softly. Then she added more confidently, "Whatever changed you is mystical, so maybe there's something I could find out with magic."

Spike's eyes bulged a little, and Buffy had to repress a laugh. "The last time you worked any mojo on me I was callin' myself 'Randy Giles'."

Willow held up her hands. "I promise I won't do a spell on you. Just more, take a look at your mystical make up. No changing you into Randy Giles again, I promise."

"Good, cause that was bleedin' disturbing."

"I don't know, I thought you were kinda cute with your little bowtie," Buffy said, lighting kicking him under the table.

"Watch it, Joan," Spike replied, although his response only got a giggle out of Buffy.

Willow watched the two of them interacting. They weren't a couple? Could've fooled her... But she resisted the urge to meddle. If they were meant to be, it would happen. If it wasn't, then it wouldn't. No need for her to give it a push one way or the other. "There are spells to tell if someone is human or demon, and then also what sort of demon they are. They're simple, only surface stuff." She turned to Buffy. "Sort of like that one from way back in the day when we were trying to figure out if Amy's-Mom-in Amy's-Body was a witch."

Buffy nodded. "I remember that." Without even thinking about it, she reached over and took Spike's hand. "Are you sure it wouldn't hurt him, though?"

"Positive. And I'd be extra special careful," Willow assured her. "I've really grown a lot in the past year, Buffy. I don't take the sort of chances I used to. My spells don't go wonky like they did before."

Buffy turned to Spike, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as she did. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, as long as Red doesn't turn me into a newt or some such, I'm game. Like to know what I am, and it could at least give Rupert a place to start looking in those musty old books of his."

"Great!" Willow jumped up. "I'll just find a store around here where I can get what I need, and we'll be all set."

"Do you mind if I go out with you?" Buffy asked. "I sort of didn't pack for a long trip, and I'm just about out of important things - like clean underwear."

Spike glanced down, staring at where his hand was still joined with Buffy. This was all so bizarrely domestic. She was talking about needing to buy underwear while holding his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn't know how it made him feel exactly, but he didn't pull away from her.

"Sure. Be nice to spend a little time with you," Willow said.

"How about you, Spike? Are you okay here, waiting in case Giles shows up, or..."

"I'm fine, luv. You two go do your shopping."

Buffy gave his hand another squeeze before she pulled away. Spike noted how she never noticed they were holding hands with a start as if it were something out of place. She'd pulled away the same way she'd started the gesture, calmly as if it were ordinary. "We'll be back as soon as we can," she said, standing up.

"Most of the ingredients are pretty commonplace," Willow said, standing, too. "I can probably find most of them in the grocery store."

"Let's get them then," Buffy said. "If we're going to do this, I'd like to do it soon."

"What's the rush?" Spike asked, concern crossing his features.

Buffy turned to him. "I want to know what's going on, Spike. I'm worried about all of this. What if something happens, and it turns out to be unstable, and..."

"I turn back into a vampire?" Spike asked softly. Would she be holding his hand at the breakfast table the way she'd just done if that were the case?

"And you get hurt," Buffy said, finishing the sentence her way.

"Oh."

There was another awkward silence in the room for a moment before Willow said, "So are we going to go? I saw a shopping center on the way over here that should be good for a start."

Buffy nodded. "Let's check it out."

"I've got an extra key," Spike said. "Let me give it to you."

"All right," Buffy said as Spike got up and went into his bedroom. He came back a few moments later, pressing the key into her outstretched hand. She looked down at it, then at him. "Thanks."

Spike nodded and stepped away from her, letting the two women plan their outing.

Having Buffy out of the apartment made Spike feel both relieved and anxious. On the one hand, without Buffy there sending his emotions into a tizzy, he could relax. On the other hand, he couldn't stop wondering what she was doing now that she was out of his sight. Other than her brief visit to the Hyperion the day before, she'd been with him almost non-stop since he'd come back to life. He'd gotten used to her presence, the feel of having her there with him.

Still, he knew he should get used to this. It was going to be his life after she was gone. He'd be alone.

He looked up, startled, when he heard a knock at the door before he remembered that the Watcher was due. He ran his hand through his hair, then approached the door, opening it. "Come in, Rupert."

Giles nodded, walking into Spike's apartment and taking a brief glance around while Spike shut the door behind him. "Is Buffy not here?"

"Nice to see you, too, Rupes."

"I...sorry, that was rude of me. It was a long flight, much of which involved a small child pelting me with peanuts."

Spike raised an eyebrow at Giles's actual apology. "Sounds unpleasant."

"The mother was not much better. Makes me wonder why some people are allowed to spawn." He took a deep breath. "So how are you?"

Spike shrugged. "Alive."

"That's good...or is it?" Giles's brow furrowed.

"It's got its perks. I'm liking the whole sunlight thing. And to answer your earlier question, Buffy's not here. She went shopping with Willow."

"Shopping?"

"For magic supplies," Spike clarified. "Red wants to do some sort of spell to see if I'm human or demon."

"She knows about you retaining your powers then?"

"Yeah. Told her over breakfast." Spike reached out for the bag that Giles had over his shoulder. "Here, let me take that for you."

"Oh. Thank you."

Spike nodded, setting the bag over by the wall. "You can sit on the couch," he offered. "And there's donuts if you're hungry."

"No, I'm quite all right," Giles said, sitting down. He took off his glasses, fiddling with them nervously as he glanced around Spike's apartment again. He hadn't expected to be alone with the former vampire like this, and he didn't much know what to say or do. Their relationship in Sunnydale could be characterized as strained at best, and it hadn't been too long ago that he'd conspired to have Spike killed. Now here he was, sitting in the other man's apartment while Spike acted hospitable.

"You know, Watcher, I couldn't bite you even if I wanted to. You don't have to look all twitchy."

"I'm not...afraid of you, Spike. This is just...uncomfortable."

"Because you helped Robin try to kill me?"

Giles winced. "Well, yes, actually."

"Look, it was a mistake on your part, yeah, but none of us knew that at the time. I could've gone either way with the way the First was messing with my head, and you did what you thought was best. You wanted to protect Buffy, and I can respect that."

Giles looked at Spike in surprise. That certainly wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. "Still, I..."

"Don't. I'm not the one who needs your apology for that. If you're going to be handing those out, then give it the Slayer." Spike sat on the other end of the couch, silence hanging between the two men. "So you want to make me a lab rat now or..." Spike asked.

"We should most likely wait for Buffy," Giles answered.

Silence again as they both shifted uncomfortably. Spike cleared his throat. "So," he began. "Ever played Crash Bandicoot?"

If there was one thing Buffy didn't expect to walk in to Spike's apartment and see, it was him playing video games with her Watcher. She stopped short, Willow catching it a split second before bumping into her.

"Buffy, what...oh my goddess."

Spike and Giles turned in unison, looking very much like little boys caught with their hands in the candy jar. "We were waiting for you," Spike explained.

"Giles plays video games?" Buffy asked lamely, amazed that she was even able to find her voice.

"Not very well," Spike said. "I was kicking his arse."

"I'm fairly certain he was cheating somehow," Giles muttered.

"Well, we're back, so you two can come out of the Twilight Zone now."

Spike and Giles both set down their controllers slowly and stood up. "Did you get the stuff for the spell?" Spike asked.

Willow patted the bag she was holding. "Yep. Found it all."

"Are you quite sure you know how to perform whatever spell this is?" Giles asked.

"I am," Willow replied. "I already told Spike and Buffy I was going to be careful. No neglectful Wicca Willow this time."

"Did you bring anything that might be helpful to us?" Buffy asked, coming into the living room and standing beside Spike.

"Yes. It's in here, just let me get it out," Giles replied. He went to his bag, unzipping it and pulling out a slim, black object.

Buffy's eyes widened. "Is that a laptop?"

"Yes," Giles replied.

"Didn't I just ask you to come out of the Twilight Zone?"

Giles gave her a dirty look. "I never would've been able to get as many books as I'd most likely need through customs. This way I can simply connect to the Watcher's Library Database that Andrew has been compiling."

"Andrew does stuff?" Buffy said. "Huh. I thought he just slept on my couch and ate all my food."

"Andrew's staying with you again?" Willow asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Don't get me started. It's a long story." She made a quick glance in Spike's direction. "Although come to think of it, he was in Los Angeles not too long ago. Wolfram and Hart, if memory serves. Meeting with the CEO and his...people?"

"Well, we have a lot of work to do here," Spike said quickly, clapping his hands together. "So how about we get started."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at Spike, but let it drop as Willow and Giles both began to set up what they needed to get to the bottom of what had happened to Spike.

Angel knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He knew Connor was still in the room, his scent and the occasional rustling noise making that clear. He knocked again, letting out a small sound of frustration when he got the same lack of response.

"Connor, it's your da...it's Angel. I just want to talk to you."

Connor still didn't reply. Angel reached down, turning the handle and finding the door unlocked, then going into the room. Connor was sitting on the bed, his knees pulled up as he stared at the wall, making no move to acknowledge the new presence in the room. Angel didn't know what to say or what to do. It hadn't been that long ago since he'd been given an infant, a life, to care for, and looking at the young man in front of him now, he knew how badly he'd messed that up.

"Are you hungry?" Angel asked. "I know you haven't really wanted to leave the room, so I could bring you something up if you wanted."

No answer.

"Okay, not hungry... Are you too cold in here? Or too hot maybe? Do you need anything at all?"

Connor turned then, his eyes an icy blue that reminded Angel a bit too much of Darla. "I don't need anything from you. Stop trying to be my father."

Angel blinked. "Connor, I...I am."

"No, you're not. And you made sure of that, didn't you? Got rid of me as fast as you could, made it so I was someone else's son."

"No! Connor, it wasn't like that! I didn't want to give you up. You're my son, and I love you."

Connor jumped up, facing Angel as he began to yell. "What do you know about love? You don't even care about me! You couldn't wait to get me out of your life! And hey, the fact that doing that came with money, power, and a bunch of shiny new toys"just a bonus."

"That isn't true! You're more important to me than anything in this world. You're my son, my own flesh and blood."

"I don't care! I don't want anything to do with you. All you've ever done is fuck up my life, and I hate you!"

Angel bristled. "Connor, please... I'm sorry that things happened this way. I tried to do what was best for you, it just...it never went the way I wanted it to." A list of things that Angel had planned when he'd held Connor as a baby flashed through his mind, and he grimaced at the thought of how so many of those dreams he'd had would never come true for his son. "Just...just let us try to move on from here."

"No!" Connor yelled again. "I can't stand here and listen to you act like it could ever be better, because it can't. You've ruined my life, just like your ruin everything."

"I know I messed up with you. But it wasn't because I don't love you, or because I don't want you in my life. You mother told me once that you were the one good thing that we ever did together, and it's true. Connor, you're the best thing I've ever done, period. Even if things didn't go the way I'd like them to, I look at you, and you still make me prouder than anything else ever could."

"Stop it!" Connor was fighting against tears now. Angel wanted to reach out and comfort his son, but he knew it wouldn't be accepted. "I...I have to leave," Connor said, going for the door.

"No. Don't, please," Angel said, reaching out and grabbing Connor's arm as he tried to make it past him.

Connor pulled away, making Angel stumble backwards. "Don't touch me," he snarled before running out of the room.

Angel went into the hallway, prepared to go after his son when he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Let him go. He can handle himself."

Angel turned slowly. "Cordelia."

"In the flesh."

"I have to go after him, Cordy."

"No, you don't. Connor needs time right now. Give it to him."

Angel's shoulders slumped. "I don't know what to do. I don't think I've ever felt this lost."

Cordelia wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her. "I know it's hard now, but you're strong, Angel. We'll get through this."

Angel stepped back, although he kept his arms loosely around her waist. "We?"

"Yes. We."

"Does...does that mean you can stay this time?"

"I can stay - for as long as you need me."

"I'm always going to need you, Cordy. Without you I...I fall apart."

"I know. But it's going to be better now. We can be happy."

The look in her eyes made Angel pull away. "No. I can't...I can't be that happy."

Cordelia cupped his cheek. "Yes, you can. It's okay. The Powers want to release you from your curse."

"What? I..."

"Shh..." Cordelia placed a finger to his lips to silence him before replacing it with her lips. Angel hesitated for only a moment before he pulled her to him with a growl. When they finally broke apart, Cordelia was panting, gasping for air. His vampiric ridges were present now, and she reached up to stroke them. "It's going to be all right, Angel," she said softly. "You can let go now."

Angel lifted Cordelia off her feet and carried her off to bed.

So what do you think of that, huh? Reviews would be nice.

Although please, for the love of cheese wheels, don't tell me this chapter wasn't "Spuffy enough." I did as much with Spike and Buffy as I could with this one, but I had to move the plot in other directions, too, and couldn't jam it full of heartwarming Spuffy moments. Please respect me as a writer and understand that.

A big thanks to Niamh on this chapter for talking me through my block.

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