Giles sat down in his favorite leather chair and checked his watch. It was hard to find a convenient time to call California, between the time difference and Buffy's schedule, but he took a chance that she would be home. She answered on the third ring.

"Giles! I was hoping you'd call."

"Hello, Buffy. How are things?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old on the Hellmouth. What's up with you?"

Such a loaded question, thought Giles, she has no idea. He looked through the doorway of the study and across the hall, where he could see them moving about in the kitchen. He heard low voices, and then soft laughter, and smiled. 'I've started a new business' he was tempted to say. 'The Rupert Giles Home for Wayward Witches and Vampires.'

"Actually, that's what I called about. I think Willow is ready to return to Sunnydale."

"Oh."

"I take it from your reaction that you don't think it's a good idea?"

"No, that's not it, exactly," she sighed. "It's just, things have been pretty low key around here this summer. It's a busy time for Xander at work, and Anya has been trying to get the shop ready to reopen. Just me and Dawn, basically, and I haven't had to deal with a lot of stuff, which was a nice break. But, you know, summer vacation has to end sometime, I guess."

Giles felt badly. Buffy had been through so much this past year, and now he was going to return to Sunnydale with more for her to deal with. More than she even realized. It didn't seem fair, but then, life never was.

"Hello? Giles? You still there?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry."

"How is Willow, anyway?"

"She is doing quite well, actually. The coven has helped immensely, and., well, she's received a lot of support, and she seems to be dealing with her grief over Tara in an appropriate manner. She's still very sad, Buffy. But she has good days, now, too."

"That's good," said Buffy softly, "I've been worried about her. I feel bad I haven't called..."

"She understands, Buffy. And she enjoys the cards you've been sending her."

"So," he could hear her take a deep breath, "when are you bringing her back?"

"I was planning for about a week from now. She would like to return in time to register for fall classes. And Buffy, she intends to live at the dorm. She wanted you to know that."

"That's probably a good idea. Dawn is still, well, a little scared of her."

"Completely understandable."

"O.K. then, you'll call and let me know about your flight and everything, right?"

"Of course, but Buffy, there's something else. As a matter of fact, someone else."

"What? Who?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

"Well, er, it's Spike," he said gently.

At the sound of his name, Buffy sat down hard in the chair.

"Buffy?"

"I heard you. I just...don't get it."

"It's, well, rather a long story."

"I've got time. I think you need to tell me." This was about the last thing she had expected. After all this time, she'd wondered if she would ever hear from him again. And now she finds out he's in England, with Giles?

"Well, he showed up on my doorstep shortly after I returned here with Willow," Giles told her. "I'm afraid he was in rather bad shape, at the time, poor chap."

'Poor chap?' thought Buffy. Giles is referring to Spike as 'poor chap?'

"So, what happened to him? Is he alright?" She didn't like the note of panic in her voice.

"He's fine. As for what happened to him, I think you'd better ask him that yourself, when you see him."

"No, I think you'd better tell me."

Giles sighed. She was using her I-will-not-take-no for an answer tone with him, and he knew better than to argue with her, even over the phone.

"Are you sitting down?"

"Giles! Melodramatic much?"

"Very well Buffy. Spike now has a soul." He waited for her reaction. "Buffy?"

"He got the chip out?"

"What? No, I didn't say anything about the chip."

"But, he must have done something to get cursed with..."

"No, he didn't get cursed. He sought it out, Buffy. He won it through a series of trials."

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"Now that I must insist you speak to him about yourself. And Buffy, he's not exactly the Spike you knew. You may not recognize all the changes in him."

Giles hung up the phone after saying his good-byes to a stunned slayer. He walked into the kitchen, where Willow was preparing a salad for her lunch. She sat at the kitchen table, slicing vegetables. Every once in awhile Spike would reach over and grab a carrot or a slice of pepper, and she would playfully swat his hand. He sat at the other end of the table with a laptop, a legal pad, and a mug of blood. He spent almost as much time on the computer now as Willow did. They both looked up when Giles entered the room.

"You get a hold of her, Rupert?" asked Spike.

"Yes," he said, removing his glasses.

"Uh, oh, must be bad," said Willow with a smile, looking at Spike.

"Yes, he's removed his glasses," Spike nodded, his voice mock serious. "always a harbinger of bad news."

Giles smiled ruefully and took two beers out of the fridge, handing one to Spike.

"Willow? Anything?"

"No thanks, not thirsty."

"So, did you tell her about me, mate?" Spike asked, truly serious this time.

"Yes, about the soul too. She insisted."

Spike smiled, "I thought as much. Stubborn, that one. How'd she take it?"

Giles took a drink of his beer. "Confused, as you'd expect. Wants to know the details, which I told her she'd have to get from you."

"What about me?" Willow asked. "Bet she can't wait to see me, ha, ha."

"No, Willow, I think she is looking forward to seeing you. She's just a little nervous, that's all. Worried about Dawn."

Willow nodded and kept slicing vegetables. Giles looked at Spike.

"Hey, Red?" Spike asked gently.

She looked up and tried to smile, but her lower lip quivered and she had to swallow back the tears that threatened to spill.

"C'mon, chin up, Will. We're in this together, you and me, right?"

"Right, Will," she answered. This time she did manage a smile.

He laughed and got up, moving around to the back of her chair and kissing her on top of the head. "That's my girl." Then, he gathered up his things and headed up to his room.

"Giles?"

"Yes, Willow?"

"Xander is going to be a problem."

Giles sighed. "Isn't he always?"
 

"Spike, you want the window seat?" Willow flipped casually through their boarding passes as they walked down the jetway towards the plane.

"Ha, bloody, ha" he said. "How long did you work on that one?"

"I've been saving it up for awhile," she admitted with a grin.

"Now that is sad."

She looked over her shoulder at him and shrugged. "Yeah, well, consider the source. Queen of the Nerds, here."

"Listen here, missy. I was a big nerd long before they even invented the term. And look at me now." He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder for a few steps while she screamed and batted playfully at his back. Then he set her down and they walked arm and arm to the plane. Giles shook his head and pretended to be mortified. "They're not with me," he said to anyone within hearing distance. In truth, he was extremely proud of their progress. His two companions were virtually unrecognizable from the people they had been four months before, and he knew that he had something to do with that. He'd provided a sanctuary, an understanding, non-judgmental ear, and the occasional piece of advice. When asked for, of course.

But, he also knew that their recovery had as much to do with each other as it had to do with him, and that also pleased him. And worried him. Now that they were headed home, what was the old gang to make of them, he wondered.

**************************

"What's the matter?"

"What makes you think something is the matter? Nothing is the matter."

"Well," said Dawn, crossing her arms over her chest, "you keep answering a question with a question. And if you polish that coffee table anymore you're going to rub the finish right off."

Buffy looked down at the table and saw that Dawn was right, she was about to literally damage the finish with slayer dusting. She stopped and blew an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. "I guess I have sufficiently slayed the dust bunnies."

"And Anya will be glad to hear it. Now, tell me what's bugging you."

"Nothing," Buffy said. She stood up and threw the dust rag on the table. "It's just, everything."

"So is it nothing or everything?"

The sat down on the sofa together. Buffy lay her head on Dawn's shoulder. "Nothing should be bothering me, but everything is."

"It's Spike, isn't it? This whole soul thing is wigging you out. And how dare he get a soul without discussing it with you first."

Buffy sat up and looked at Dawn. "I've told you before, you're not supposed to be all wise and stuff. It's just not right."

"Sorry. That old keyness rearing its ugly head again, I guess."

"Why do you think he did it?" Buffy asked Dawn.

"I think we all know why he did it, Buffy. A souled vampire was the only one ever to win Buffy's heart."

"He'll never be Angel," Buffy said, her eyes flashing.

"God, I hope you're right."

"Dawn!"

"Oh, come on, can you blame me? Angel tried to kill me without a soul, and he barely acknowledged my presence with one. Spike, he saved my life on numerous occasions without a soul, and sent cool post cards from Africa and England with one. Though I didn't know about the soul, at the time."

"He sent you postcards? How come I didn't know about this?"

"Oops. He sent them to the Magic Box and Anya gave them to me. I didn't want to bring up bad memories for you. He didn't say much, just 'hi bite size,' mostly."

"Did he, did he send post cards to Anya too?" Buffy asked with feigned casualness. She didn't fool her sister.

"Ooh, jealous are we?"

"NO! No, of course not. I was just, you know, curious. And that was like the lamest lie ever, wasn't it?"

"Yes. And no, Buffy, nothing for Anya. Just me." Dawn observed her sister breathe a visible sigh of relief. "Buffy, it's o.k. if you like him, or even love him, you know."

Buffy smiled. "Tara once said almost the exact same thing to me." She stood and headed upstairs. "I'm going to take a shower. They'll be here in a couple of hours."

Dawn leaned back on the sofa, hugging a pillow. "I miss you, Tara," she whispered.

**************************

"What time will they be here, Buffy?" Dawn kept pulling the curtains aside, and looking out the window.

"Probably soon. They were going to stop at the hotel and drop their things off before coming over."

"Oh."

"You nervous, now?

"Yeah, about Willow, though. I just don't want to even see her," said Dawn, her eyes filling with tears.

"Well, you have to see her, but you don't have to hang out with her or even talk to her if you don't want to. You do have to be polite, though. She understands how you feel, believe me. And we all know it's going to be awkward, especially at first."

"Speaking of awkward, how do you think Xander's going to react to Spike?"

"Xander's going to be a problem."

Dawn sighed. "Isn't he always?"

As if on cue, Xander walked in the door. "Not here yet?"

"No, not yet. I'm glad you're here early, though. We need to talk."

"About soul boy 2? I really don't." He plopped himself down on the sofa.

"He's going to be here soon. I want to know what you're going to do."

"What are my options?" He closed his eyes and put his hands behind his head.

"How about, you just ignore him?"

"Sure, whatever."

"Why do I not believe you?" asked Buffy, hands on hips.

"Gee whiz, Buffy, I don't know. He slept with my fiancée and tried to rape one of my best friends. But I'll be nice. Promise." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Anya wasn't your fiancée anymore Xander, you left her, remember?" said Dawn.

"And what happened with Spike and me is between the two of us. You need to stay out of it."

Xander opened his eyes. "What is it with you Summers women and that guy?" he asked, shaking his head.

The cab pulled into the driveway then, and Buffy opened the door. She ushered them all in and threw her arms around Giles, the only one she actually knew what to do with.

Willow said a shy "hello," to Dawn, who answered with a cold "hello," back. Then Willow flew into Xander's arms, and he picked her up off the ground and swung her around.

Spike was the last one in, and he quietly closed the door. The day was overcast, but he had a blanket with him anyway, and he tossed it in the corner. When he turned around, his eyes found Dawn's. She smiled tentatively. "Hi, Spike." She began to walk towards him.

"Hello, Dawn," he said. She faltered. He usually only used her name when he was angry or worried about her. He looked the same, but his voice sounded weird to her, so serious. She stopped awkwardly in the middle of the room. He seemed to realize his mistake then. "How've you been, Nibblet?" He walked up to her, and reached out a hand to stroke her silky hair. "I've missed you, you know. Did you get my postcards?"

She gently put her arms around him and lay her head against his chest. "Yes, and I missed you too, Spike."

'Well,' thought Buffy, pulling back from Giles, 'at least everyone found someone to hug.' They all seemed to have the same thought at the same time. As they stepped away from their respective huggees and looked around the room, an uncomfortable silence fell upon them.

"Welcome home, Will," said Buffy. The two of them hugged now, and then Dawn hugged Giles. Meanwhile, Xander glared at Spike, who just stared back at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Surprised to see you here," said Xander, "but then, I guess I shouldn't be. Don't criminals always return to the scene of the crime?"

The hugging was now over.

Willow stepped in front of Spike. "Xander, don't."

"Now you're defending him too? I guess your last name doesn't have to be Summers, you just have to be female."

"Xander," Buffy warned. Spike continued to look steadily at Xander. Buffy couldn't figure the vampire out. He didn't look angry. He didn't look guilty. There was no smirk present. But there was something...dangerous...in his eyes. He put his hands on Willow's shoulders and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. She nodded.

"Could you excuse us ladies, Giles. Harris and I need to talk." He began to walk towards the kitchen. When Xander didn't follow, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "You coming, Harris?"

Xander, caught off guard, dutifully followed Spike into the kitchen. Buffy looked at Giles. "This can't be good. Can it?"
 

Spike stood with his arms folded across his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter. Unconsciously, Xander mirrored his pose on the other side of the room.

"What?" asked Xander.

"We need to settle this," Spike answered.

"Settle what? You're lucky all you get is a little hostility from me. If it weren't for Buffy, you'd be dust many times over by now."

Spike pursed his lips and he looked out the window. Finally, he spoke. "Look Harris, I'm not going to apologize to you, because, frankly, you don't deserve it. Anya was a free woman that night we were together. You. Left. Her. Any regrets I have about that situation I will discuss with her and her alone. As for Buffy and I, that also is between us. But I will say this. I understand why you feel the way you do. You have good reason for the way you feel about me, and vice versa. Guess what? Doesn't matter. We don't matter. What matters to me is Willow, and Buffy, and Dawn. They've been through enough and they don't need this crap from us on top of everything else. Can we at least agree on that?"

Xander stared at him for a moment. It physically pained him to agree with Spike, but he couldn't deny what he was saying. Finally, his love for the women in question overcame his hatred for the vampire. "Alright. I agree. You stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours. But don't expect me to be friendly or anything."

"Perish the thought."

"And don't expect everything to be forgiven now that you're supposedly all souled up. I didn't like Angel much more with the soul than I did without it."

"Now see, that's something else we agree on."

**************************

Spike walked back into the living room where the rest of the group was sitting and talking. To the casual observer, it would look no different than any other Scooby get together. Spike knew better. Buffy laughed just a little too loud, Dawn played with her hair, and Willow's hands fluttered about a tad more than usual. It was strange how he felt closer to Willow now than he did to Buffy, and when Red looked up and raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, he knew exactly what she was asking.

He sat on the arm of the sofa next to her and leaned down, his mouth close to her ear. "All taken care of," he said.

"That's my Will," she said, and her hand went briefly to his cheek. He felt someone staring at him, and when he looked up, Buffy quickly looked away. Xander stood in the doorway, also watching them. Spike decided not to push his luck, and went and sat next to Dawn, who had moved away from the group and sat on the bottom step of the stairs.

"How's things, Nibblet?"

"Fine," she said, twisting a strand of hair around her fingers.

"That so? You don't seem so fine to me." She didn't say anything. "I was wonderin' if you could maybe do me a favor?"

She looked up at him. "Like what?"

"Like, give Willow a bit of a break. I know what happened, and you've got every right to be upset. But, maybe you could cut her some slack."

"Why should I?" she asked, her mouth set in a hard line.

"For me," he said quietly. Her face softened a little. "See, 'cept for Giles, maybe, you and Willow are the only two friends I have. Have ever had, if you wanna know the truth. It'd be nice if we could all maybe be in the same room together. And I know she's crazy about you."

"You guys must've gotten pretty close, all those months living at Giles's."

"Yeah, I guess so. Willow really helped me, bit."

She considered this for a moment. "I'll think about it."

"Thanks, platelet."

He stood up. "Hey, Rupert, sun's down, I'm going to go take care of those things I mentioned earlier. I'll see you two back at the hotel?" He looked from Giles to Willow, and they both nodded. "Buffy?" he asked, "can I talk to you for a minute, outside?"

"Sure," she answered. 'Finally!' is what she thought. Spike tucked his blanket under his arm, held the door open for her, and she ducked under his arm to go out on the front porch. He closed the door behind him, and when he turned around she was practically on top of him. He backed away a step or two.

"Look, I know we probably have a lot to talk about, but I figured you'd want to catch up with Red and Rupert first" he said.

"Uh, yeah, right." Spike has a soul. No biggie. We'll discuss it later.

"And I have a few things I need to take care of tonight." He stepped down on to the first porch step.

"Like what?"

"Well, I need to go by the crypt and see about my stuff. I know Clem's been taking care of it for me. And I need to check on my car, see if it still runs." He walked down a couple of more steps.

"Are you going back to the crypt? To stay, I mean."

He was standing on the sidewalk now. "Just until I find something else. I'm going to start looking for a place tomorrow. An apartment."

"How are you going to manage that?"

"I have a job. That's one of the things I want to talk to you about, actually. Is tomorrow good? To talk?" He took a few more steps away.

"What? Tomorrow? Sure, I'll, I'll be around tomorrow." Her head was spinning. Now, he had a job?

"O.K., I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon, then. Good night, Buffy."

"'Night." She watched him walk away in disbelief.

As he walked down Revello drive, he breathed a literal sigh of relief. This was even harder that he thought it would be. Dealing with Harris had been a breeze compared to Buffy. He knew she must be confused at his behavior, and he should have apologized, although that seemed just painfully inadequate no matter how many times he'd gone over the words in his mind. But, he didn't think himself capable of coherent conversation at this point, and he didn't want to make it worse. Better to deal with concrete issues like cars. And Clem. Good, solid Clem, who'd kept a watch on his things, such as they were, all summer. He thought he'd give him the TV for his trouble; it was a pretty good one. And maybe the fridge. Although, they were stolen. Maybe he should return them? Used, now, so that wouldn't work. Give them to charity? Was Clem considered charity? Bloody soul. He could handle the big guilt the soul dealt out, it was these little things that annoyed him.

Yeah, he could handle the big stuff. Now. If Giles hadn't taken him in that night he'd shown up at his door, he didn't think he would have had the strength or the will to get himself out of the sun. But Giles had taken him in. And Willow had stayed up all night with him, night after night, talking about lost lives and lost loves and lost opportunities. She was there for him. And she let him be there for her, which was almost more important. And he could handle it now.

Well, mostly. Because, he expected to feel guilty about 120 years of death and destruction. And he'd expected to feel bad about what he'd done to Buffy. Hell, he didn't even need the soul for that. Still, he expected the soul to change the way he felt about himself.

He hadn't expected it to affect the way he felt about her.
 

Spike paused before the crypt door, then knocked before he entered. As he pushed the door open, Clem jumped in his chair, knocking over a TV tray strewn with various snack foods.

"Spike! You're back!"

"Didn't you get my e mail, mate?" Spike walked over and clapped his friend on the back before righting the fallen table.

"I did...I guess I got the dates mixed up. I thought it was next week. Silly me!"

Spike smiled in spite of his dark mood. "Sorry I scared you, mate. I made you spill your snacks." Spike picked up several bags and boxes off the floor and put them back on the table.

"Oh, that's alright. Seems to happen to me a lot. The slayer is always making me spill something. Don't know what it is about that girl...she's sweet, though. No wonder you have a thing for her."

Spike scratched his head and walked over to the sofa. "Yeah, a thing," he said absently, as he sat down.

"What?" asked Clem, muting the television. "You went off and did this crazy soul thing for her. Now you don't seem too excited about it. Don't you love her anymore?"

Spike stared at Clem for a moment, then let out a small laugh. "Sometimes, love isn't enough," he said, shaking his head.

"Ain't it the truth, though," agreed Clem. He held out a box to Spike. "Bugle?"

**************************

Buffy checked herself in the mirror. Jeans and a slightly low cut tank top. Casual, but a little sexy. Not trying too hard. "This is good," she said to herself. "This says, 'Welcome back, Spike. Nice soul you have there.'" She sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up Mr. Gordo. "It's not like I care if he cares what I look like," she said to the pig. "Oh, who am I kidding?" She flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, where she had spent many nights over the summer in just this position, trying to sort out her feelings for him. "Messy, but real," he'd said to her once, and she thought now that that was a very accurate description. She thought she had come to some kind of understanding of their relationship, or of herself, at least. She was really trying not to be Denial!Buffy. She had feelings for him, strong ones. And it could have been love. But she wouldn't let it be. Why? Well, he was an evil, soulless vampire. Except, now he was just the vampire part. Everything was different now. At least, she hoped it was. That was a very dangerous thing. Hope.

Buffy had made sure that Dawn had some place to be so that she wouldn't be able to witness Buffy's craziness and lord it over her later. When the doorbell rang at 3:30, she was relieved. She took a deep breath, counted to three, and opened the door.

"Oh. It's you."

"Thank you for that most enthusiastic greeting."

"Sorry, Giles, come on in. It's just that I was expecting someone else." She stepped aside to let him through the door, staring at his most un-Giles like outfit of faded Levi's and a Who t-shirt.

"Would that be Spike?" he asked, putting down his briefcase on the coffee table. "He's right behind me."

She looked out the door to see Spike, in faded Levi's and a Ramones t- shirt, stamping out his flaming blanket on her front porch. She waved him in and plopped down in a chair. So, Spike had brought Giles along as a chaperone. Yay. And why did that bother her, exactly? Best not think to much about the why's, she decided.

The two Englishmen sat on the sofa, comfortable as old college roommates or something, and she could have throttled them both. She glared at them from her less than ladylike slump in the chair. "What are you two, the Bobsy twins?"

Giles laughed and looked down at their shirts and jeans. "Oh, we didn't plan this, I assure you. Just a coincidence. Although we did purchase the shirts at the same time, at a quite lovely vintage clothing store in London..."

"Sorry to interrupt this truly fascinating shopping story, but, why are you here?"

"Yes, quite. So sorry, Buffy," said Giles. "Well, you see, Spike's employment situation has rather a lot to do with me, in a roundabout way, not to say that he didn't come by it of his volition, only that it involves me to a certain extent, and..."

"Giles, is there a point in there somewhere?"

"Buffy," Spike interjected, "what ol' Rupes here is trying to say is that I'm going to be working at the Magic Box."

"What about Anya?" Buffy asked.

"She'll still be in charge," answered Giles, "but it's difficult to run the shop on one's own, and I'm not anxious to go back to it on a daily basis, frankly. He'll assist her, the shop can stay open longer hours, and this will give her some free time as well as allow Anya and me to go on buying trips, etcetera."

"What does Spike know about running a business and did you just say 'Anya and me?'"

"I assure you that Spike has a better head for business than any of us were previously aware of. He came up with several innovative marketing strategies while he was staying with me in England. And yes, I did say 'Anya and me.' I am still part owner, and Anya and I have discussed traveling to the Far East and elsewhere to purchase some artifacts we've had our eyes on."

Buffy decided to let the Giles and Anya thing go for a moment, and focus on the Spike thing. She looked at him directly and he finally met her gaze. "Good for you," she said. He smiled, a shy smile she didn't think she'd ever seen before. "Me, I'm still wearing the cow hat."

"Well, that's another reason I'm here today, dear. Spike has come up with something that might relieve you of your food industry duties."

Spike sat forward on the sofa. "I hope you don't mind that I started this without checking with you first. But, Giles and I were talking about the council of wankers and how they object to giving you a salary, the whole precedent setting thing, and I had this idea."

"What is it?" she asked warily.

"You don't have to do anything. It's just, I came up with a cost/benefit analysis which proves it's much more beneficial for you to be slaying full time than working at that...place. It would actually be in the council's best interest to pay you."

"And they're all about their best interest, Buffy. I've seen his analysis, and frankly, it's bloody brilliant. He's come up with a way to place a numeric value on slaying. The council has got to go for it, if their goal is truly the public good. And they'd never admit otherwise. Here, let me show you." Giles pulled out some papers from his brief case and Buffy sat between him and Spike on the sofa while they went over them with her.

"This is a lot of work," she said, looking at Spike.

He shrugged. "It kept my mind off...things."

She nodded in understanding. "Do you really think it'll work?" she asked Giles.

"It's got a better chance than anything else I can think of."

"What about that whole accountability thing? I'll have to do things their way."

"Well, to be quite blunt, I think the council has given up on making you accountable to them. They know that you do your job, and do it well. Spike's analysis just shows how much better you could do it if you could put all your energy into it. Also, there are a few newer members of the council who aren't quite so into policy and procedure. I'll present this myself, so as to make sure no special requirements are attached to its approval, should we get that far."

She turned back to Spike, who was looking at her intently and biting his lip, awaiting her decision. "Thank you," she said, putting her hand on his arm. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this." She turned back to Giles. "Let's do it."

"Fantastic. Now that that's settled, I'll be shoving off. I'm sure you two have, er, things, to discuss and whatnot." Giles got up, patted Spike on the shoulder, kissed Buffy's cheek, and left.

They both stared longingly at the closed door.

"Sooo," said Buffy, "how's that soul thing working out for you?"
 

Spike laughed. How was that soul thing working out for him, that was the question, now, wasn't it? Should he tell her about the trials that nearly killed him? Should he explain how agonizing the initial return of his soul felt, that he now knew what being ripped out of heaven truly felt like? Should he tell her about the days he lay in that cave unable to move, from pain which was not physical, but emotional? Or how about the embarrassment of begging Giles for aid, threatening suicide on his front stoop if he refused; only after did he realize that Rupert had already pulled him inside.

"It's working out alright," he said.

She nodded. She wouldn't push it. He was trying to protect her, and she would let him, this time. Being this close to him, inches away on the sofa, was so strange. He was the same, and not the same, and it was hard to pinpoint the differences, but they were there. Some were easier to see than others.

"Your hair..." she said.

"Yeah," he grinned, running his hands through it. "Willow says she likes it this way. Says I look 'current,' which I'm told is a good thing. What do you think, is she tellin' tales? Can't exactly judge for myself."

His hair was longer and wavy, grown out at the roots, but still bleached on the ends. "She's right," Buffy said, "you look good." It was, perhaps, the first complement she'd ever given him.

He looked down at his hands, then back up at her through his long lashes. "How are you, Buffy?"

The way he said this, the way he looked at her, made her realize this wasn't a casual 'hey, how are you?' inquiry. The intensity of his gaze brought tears to her eyes. "I'm a lot better," was all she could think to say.

"Good. I was hoping you would be." His jaw clenched and he looked up at the ceiling. "Buffy..."

"You don't have to say it."

"Yeah, I do." He looked into her eyes. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you."

"I know," she said quietly. "So sorry you went off and got yourself a soul. Wasn't that kind of...extreme?"

He laughed. An abrupt, strangely humorless sound. He rubbed the back of his neck. "When I left Sunnydale, I just couldn't stand myself anymore. Because of everything. Because of what I did to you. Because you didn't love me. I couldn't.exist.that way anymore. So, since this chip in my head wouldn't let me be a proper monster, I decided to try for the only thing I knew that might make me able to be a man."

"You could have tried to get the chip out," she said quietly.

"But that would have hurt you," he said.

"You thought if you had a soul, that I could love you," she said softly, almost to herself.

"Yeah, ironic, isn't it?"

"Ironic?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah, now that I have a soul, I realize how stupid that line of thinkin' is. And after spending so much time with Willow, I finally realize that you've been right all along. We can never be together, you and I."

She stared at him. She'd seen the looks, the whispers, the little touches between the two of them. This couldn't be, could it? "Willow? You're in love with Willow?"

He looked surprised. "No, pet. I love Willow, but we're just friends. You do remember that she's gay, don't you?" he asked with a wink.

'Well, if anyone could make a girl change her mind...' Buffy thought.

"No, it's just, we spent a lot of time talking about ourselves while we were at Giles's. She told me about her and Tara, and how it was between them, what they meant to each other. How she felt when they were together, when it was good between them. And I realized that I wanted that. I want someone to love who loves me back. Dru and me, we had a corrupted version of that, I s'pose. But I don't want corrupted anymore. Prob'ly sounds stupid, and I prob'ly don't deserve it, anyway, but..."

"Everyone deserves love, Spike."

"Well, I know showing up with a soul isn't going to make you love me. I thought that way before, but now I see how ridiculous it was."

"I'm sorry for the way I treated you," she whispered.

"I know, slayer. But let's face it. We're not good for each other. I've been gone now for how many months, and look how great you're doin'." He smiled at her. "I always wished I could be the one to make you happy. But I see that's just not how it is. And I can accept that now."

"Spike, it wasn't your fault, how messed up I was. You have to know that."

"Thanks for saying that, Buffy. But I know I didn't help. Not like I wanted to. Anyway, I hope it won't bother you having me around again."

"No, no of course not."

He got up, walked toward the door and opened it, picking up his blanket. "If you ever need any help with patrol, or anything, let me know. If it won't be too weird for you. Let me tell you, the vamps Bath had to offer were a sad and pathetic lot."

"Well, we seem to be having a run on pretty tough vamps lately, so I could use some help."

"Good." He smiled. "Take care, Buffy." He paused, his hand still on the knob. "You know, I really hope that maybe we can be...friends."

She nodded and smiled, and he stood framed in the doorway, just looking at her for a moment. Then he put his blanket over his head and left, shutting the door behind him.

Buffy curled up on the sofa, and cried.

**************************

"You actually got the 'let's be friends' speech?"

"Uh huh." Buffy shoved another spoonful of Vanilla Swiss Almond into her mouth. Dawn had come home and found her on the sofa, staring into space, and had quickly administered premium ice cream therapy. She hid a stash in the back of the freezer for just such emergencies.

"O.K., tell me exactly what he said."

Buffy blew her nose. "He said, 'I really hope we can be friends.'"

"What about before that?" Dawn asked. She took a spoonful of Coffee directly from the carton.

"He said that I was right, that we weren't good for each other and he wants to find someone who will love him back." She started crying again, and Dawn shoved the box of tissues closer to her sister.

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know! But I always thought he'd love me, and now I thought maybe, there'd be a chance..."

"Did he say that he doesn't love you anymore?" Dawn asked, licking the back of the spoon.

Buffy thought for a moment. "No, not exactly."

"See, then there's hope!" Dawn said brightly.

"No! No hope! Hope is bad! Hope will beat your face to a pulp and leave you to die in an alley!" She got up and ran crying from the room. Dawn stared after her, open mouthed.

"What the hell was that?" She shrugged, and reached across the table for Buffy's container of ice cream.

**************************

"Well, I see that at least you've cleaned the place up," smiled Willow. She looked around at what was most likely a living room. It was hard to tell, since every flat surface was covered with newspapers, pizza boxes and empty beer bottles.

"Uh, sorry. Didn't know you'd be dropping by." Xander smiled sheepishly and began gathering items and carrying them into the kitchen.

"I'd offer to twitch my nose and do the whole 'Bewitched' thing for you, but I'm no more magic girl," Willow called from the living room.

"No more at all, as in ever?" Xander asked, walking back in from the kitchen. "Is that what the coven wants you to do?"

A space was cleared, and they sat down together.

"No, not exactly. They say when I'm ready I can use magic for what it's intended for, to help people. But I don't trust myself. And I don't know if I ever will."

Xander put his arm around her and squeezed. "Magic or no magic, I'm really glad you're home, Will. I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"Didn't miss Spike much," said Xander, "though you and he seem to be pretty tight these days."

Willow sighed. "You're my best friend, Xan, and you always will be. But he's a part of my life now, too."

"Are you two...?"

"Just friends. Gay now, remember?"

"Praise the Lord, at least one of the women in my life has resisted his charms. So, you got to be friends because he's, like, a completely different person with the soul now, or what?"

"He's not so different. Except for the overwhelming guilt and agonizing pain, which he pretty much has a handle on, I think."

"Thanks to you, I'm thinking," said Xander.

"Xander, the world might be gone now if it wasn't for you. But I might be gone if it wasn't for him. He really helped me. He understands things that you can't because you haven't done what we've done."

"How can you compare yourself to him?" he asked, angry now. "He's a serial killer, for God's sake, Will!"

"Two, two thousand, two hundred thousand. Does it really matter how many?"

"I'm thinkin', yeah, it does matter."

" I know, he was a killer, Xander. But he's a vampire, that's what they do. And he changed himself, made himself a better man."

"Yeah, so he can get in Buffy's pants again."

"Xander, he just wants what we all want. Somebody to love. Surely you can understand that."

Xander shook his head and went into the kitchen to get himself a beer.
 

Willow ran through the cemetery as fast as her legs could carry her, stake in hand. She could feel the pounding of her heart in rhythm with the pounding of her boots on the ground. Just a few more yards, she told herself, I'm almost there....

The crypt door flew open and Spike whirled around just in time to see Willow slam it shut and throw herself against the door, breathing hard.

"Red! Are you alright? Where the hell have you been?" He rushed over to her and put his arms around her. He could smell the fear on her and feel her trembling in his arms. "Some nasties tryin' to get you, sweetheart?" he asked more gently.

"I...I don't know. Probably just my imagination. I heard something and I got spooked. I got talking to someone and I forgot the time, I'm so stupid." She squeezed him tighter. "I hate being afraid."

"Hey, hey, none of that. You've patrolled plenty of times before. What got you so scared, pet?"

She pulled back and looked up into his face. "I'm helpless now. I've got no magic to fall back on."

Spike smoothed her hair back from her face. "First, you're not helpless. But we've talked about this before. You need to be able to use it at least for emergencies, don't you think?"

"No!" She pulled away from him and walked to the other side of the crypt. He sighed heavily.

"But Red, to save your life?"

"I said no. Are you ready to leave?"

Spike decided to let it go this time. He wasn't up to dealing with the resolve face at the moment. He walked over to the refrigerator and began rummaging around on top of it. "Give us a minute, pet." Finally, he found what he was looking for. "Aha! I knew they had to be around here somewhere." He held up a half empty carton of cigarettes and took out a pack.

Willow gave him a distasteful look. "I thought you were trying to quit."

"I am tryin'. I'm just not succeeding." He gave her a grin, and despite herself, she smiled back. She really did love this man.

"O.K., o.k., I've got the classifieds here. I've taken the liberty of circling a few I thought you might be interested in. See?" She handed Spike the paper, with a few ads circled in black ink.

"Large windows, lots of light..." he shook his head. "Again with the sunlight jokes, Red?" He took out his lighter and lit a cigarette.

"You smiled. I saw you."

He blew smoke at her. "Did not."

"Did too."

**************************

In the end, Spike quickly chose a small basement apartment near the campus. He dropped Willow off back at her hotel, and then went looking for Anya to let her know that he'd used her name as a reference on the lease. He could have called, he supposed, but he had a few other things to settle with her. Things best said face to face. She wasn't at her apartment, so he dropped by the Magic Box. It hadn't reopened yet, but as he looked through the window he saw that the rebuilding was completed, and only a few areas needed some finishing touches. The front of the store was dark, but there was a light on in the back and he could see someone moving around inside. He rapped on the door, and Anya walked into his line of sight. She smiled when she recognized him, and unlocked the door.

"Spike! So nice to see you. Please come in."

"Thanks, Anya," he stepped inside and she locked the door behind him.

"I was just stocking a few shelves. I've got shipments coming in every day, and there's so much to do before the reopening," she said excitedly, clasping her hands together.

"Need some help? I should start earning my keep, I reckon."

"Sure, come on back." She began to walk toward the back of the store.

"Anya, wait..." he said. She turned and looked at him expectantly. "I, I just wanted to say, I'm sorry if I hurt you, or caused you more problems with Harris, or, um, ...God, this is awkward."

She smiled softly. "I should be the one apologizing to you."

"Me? Why?"

"Because I was trying to use you that night to get vengeance on Xander. That's why I got out the liquor. Of course, that's not what it ended up to be. I want you to know that. I didn't have sex with you to get vengeance on Xander. It was just..."

"You were drunk...." he said helpfully.

"and you smelled really good," she finished. "But then, you always do. Anyway, I may not have been human for that long, but I know what that was. Two sad, lonely people finding solace in each other. But thank you for all the nice things you said to me that night."

"I meant every one of them," he smiled.

"O.K.!" she said, clapping her hands together. "Is the icky, uncomfortable stuff over with? I just want to know, so I can get back to stocking my shelves. The sooner we open, the sooner we make money!"

"On with the money making, luv."

**************************

School would be starting in a few days, and Willow had managed to get a dorm room, much to her relief. She really didn't want to go back to her parents' house. But now she faced another dreaded task, which was packing her room. She had to face Buffy, who had been oh so polite to her, but whom she hadn't had a real conversation with yet. And Dawn, who had not been so polite, but who could blame her. And that room. That god awful room that held so many wonderful memories and a couple of really terrible ones. She really hoped they'd gotten the blood out of the carpet, because she didn't know what she would do if she had to see that.

Buffy had told her to come on over when she called, and Giles had dropped her off. Buffy had looked tired when she opened the door, but she smiled at Willow and hugged her when she came in.

"You want some packing help?" Buffy asked.

"Sure."

"Come on, I'll go up with you." Buffy opened the door to the room and they both stood in the doorway. "I know this is hard," said Buffy, putting her hands on Willow's shoulders. The floor had been cleaned right away, and then the door had been shut and the room pretty much left the way it was. It smelled of eucalyptus and herbs and the mingled scents of Willow and Tara.

"I never asked you," said Willow, "what happened, with Tara. Afterwards. I should have, I should have taken care of her. I just left her here," she said, her voice wavering.

"Dawn found her," Buffy said softly. "And she wouldn't leave her. She stayed with her until Xander and I came back."

Willow looked at her with huge, horror filled eyes. "Dawnie? Oh no. And then I, oh, God, Buffy!"

Buffy rubbed her back and wanted to tell her it was o.k. Except it wasn't. Willow walked into the room and sat down dejectedly on the bed. "I'm never going to be able to fix all this," she said. "I've done too much damage."

"I know the feeling," said Buffy, sitting down next to her, "but sometimes it's not about fixing. Sometimes it's about accepting, and forgiving." She looked into her friends eyes. "I don't know if things will ever be the same. I don't know if I even want them to be. But, I forgive you Will. And I love you. I always will." Willow hugged her. "And now, for the packing, right? I forgot, I have some boxes down in the basement. I'll go grab them."

Willow watched her leave, and then looked around the room. She picked up a photograph off the nightstand and traced the smiling faces with her fingers. Silent tears slid down her cheeks. Dawn stood in the doorway, watching her. Without a word, she stepped into the room and sat down on the bed next to Willow.

"Thank you for staying with her, Dawnie."

Dawn reached out and ran her finger along the edge of the frame. "You're welcome."
 

It was a big day for Sunnydale. Well, not really. It was a big day for Anya, and in her world that meant a big day for everyone else, as well. Spike had to smile as he watched her flit around the shop with her feather duster, dusting shelves that were already pristine. Normally, he would be working evenings, allowing the shop to stay open a few hours longer, and giving Anya more opportunities to 'rake in the cash,' as she was fond of saying. But today he was there for the grand opening and ribbon cutting ceremony. As cheesy as it was, he was happy for Anya. Now, she was going over some supply lists with Giles, looking up at him and smiling prettily. 'Good for you, old chap,' Spike said to himself.

Spike went back to arranging the display shelf next to the cash register. He had taken it upon himself to place several smaller, less expensive items here. Things that people might tend to pick up on a whim as they waited at the cash register. He'd never fancied himself a business man, but between this gig and the analysis he'd prepared for the council, he thought he wasn't half bad at it. He still loved poetry, though he'd never admit it; he'd stick to reading it now.

The bell rang above the door, and Spike looked up to see Buffy enter. She waved to Anya and Giles and ducked under the ribbon that was stretched in front of the doorway.

"Hey," she said, walking over to him.

"Hello, Buffy."

"So, today's the big day!"

"So it is." He hopped up on the counter.

"I just dropped Dawn off at school so I thought I'd drop by and catch the ceremony." She and Spike shared a grin. "Is Willow going to show?" she asked him.

"Nah, not today, at least. Doesn't want to ruin the day for Anya."

"Yeah," she sighed. " I know Anya's not really mad at Willow, but she probably doesn't want to be reminded of why she had to go months and months without making any money."

"Indeed. That's not what capitalism is all about, after all."

"Soo..." said Buffy. Spike cocked his scarred eyebrow at her, waiting for her to continue. "Sooo...Oh, thank God, I mean, look, the media has arrived." One lone photographer from the Sunnydale Herald had entered the store. "Surely you could do better with the publicity, marketing boy?"

"The Pennysaver's running a full page ad. No photos, though."

**************************

Buffy managed to survive the ribbon cutting ceremony, although the combination of the photographer's flash and Anya's ultra bright smile had nearly blinded her. Her real reason for going, of course, if she admitted it to herself, and she would since she was No!Denial!Buffy, on the inside at least, was the gorgeous blonde behind the counter. Or on the counter, as the case may be. She nearly had palpitations when he jumped up there. She didn't really know why she was putting herself through this when he was obviously not interested. He was cool, calm, and collected while she had been...not. He was friendly, just as he said he wanted to be. Let's be friends. Yay. Why did that upset her? Why couldn't they just be friends? Because she wanted more, dammit. Why, she wasn't sure. Because he was different? Was that a good thing, or not? Why did things always have to be so complicated?

So, forget it. She would just forget about him, and move on. Yup, that's exactly what she'd do.

**************************

Buffy stood outside the school waiting for Dawn. "Buffy! What are you doing here? I didn't know you were picking me up."

"Want to go to the Magic Box? It's the grand reopening today!" They began to walk.

"Not so much, Buffy. I've got a lot of homework, and I'm really kind of...."

"Want to go to the Magic Box? It's the grand reopening today!"

"Oh, you mean you need an excuse to go gawk at Spike."

Buffy looked down at her shoes, then back up at Dawn. "Yes."

"Well, why didn't you say so? Let's go."

**************************

When they entered the Magic Box this time around, it was bustling with activity.

"Wow," said Dawn, "I haven't seen it this busy in here since Halloween."

Buffy looked around the shop to find Giles manning the cash register, Anya on the phone, and Spike surrounded by a group of coeds who were obviously more interested in the help than the merchandise. She walked to the back of the store, where Xander lurked about, picking things up and setting them down without really looking at them. All the while he kept one eye on Anya.

"Xan man, what's up?"

"Nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing." He set the statue he was holding down just a bit too hard on the glass shelf, causing the other object to rattle and teeter precariously. Anya looked up from her phone call and glared at him. He held up his hands and mouthed 'sorry' to her, and she turned away in thinly veiled disgust.

"You still trying to get Anya to give you another shot, huh?"

"With no success, and hope is currently in the 'slim to none' category."

Buffy had become rather tired of Xander's mooning over Anya all summer, but today she felt oddly sympathetic.

"I'm sorry, Xan. Love is just...dumb."

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

Buffy noticed that Anya was off the phone and she and Dawn were now chatting. She left Xander and walked over to join them.

"Buffy! Dawn tells me that you're here looking for your young man?"

"What?! Dawn!"

Dawn burst into hysterical laughter. "I just told her that you had a crush on a boy, and you were here hoping to catch a glimpse of him."

"I am so going to kill you."

"So," said Anya, "is it one of these college boys in here? Because I must tell you, most of them seem to have been brought here by a female. Although all the females seem to be congregated around Spike now, so you may still have a chance."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I know!" said Anya. "I'll guess! It'll be a game. You give me three accurate but misleading clues and I'll try to guess who it is."

"I am not going to do this."

"I will!" said Dawn. Buffy put her head in her hands and sighed in defeat. "O.K., clue number one, he's really old. Number two, uh, he's blonde, sort of...and number three, he's, he's British!"

"Tough clues, Dawn," said Buffy dryly.

"Hmm, old, blond, and British. Well the blond part leaves out Giles, thank God, for so many reasons. Let's see, let's see," she pondered, looking around the shop. "Ah! That Krushnil demon over there!" Buffy and Dawn looked to where she was pointing and saw a middle aged man with a shock of unnaturally yellow hair who looked entirely human except for a rather bluish cast to his skin.

"Nope, sorry, and you only get one guess," said Buffy quickly.

"Phooey! O.K., now it's my turn. You have to guess who I have a crush on," said Anya.

"You have a crush on someone?" asked Dawn with a smile.

"Yes, and here are your clues. He's very handsome. He's very smart. And he has the most adorable habit of cleaning his glasses when he gets upset."

"Oh. My. God. You have a crush on Giles?" asked Buffy, looking at Dawn, who had clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from squealing.

"Yes! You got it on the first try! It was that 'smart' clue, wasn't it?"
 

Buffy lingered in front of the Magic Box window for a moment, trying to decide whether to go inside. The sign had already been turned over from "open" to "closed," and she could see him moving around inside. He had been counting out the drawer when she arrived, and now he locked the cash register. Next he walked over to the research table - the new, completely and deliberately unlike the old research table - and picked up some books that were lying there, reshelving them in their proper location. As he bent to pick something up off the floor, she saw him pause and put his hand to his head, massaging his temples, and then running his hands through his hair. He rolled his shoulders, trying to work the kinks out. 'He looks tired,' she thought, 'I should just leave.' That's when he turned around and looked directly at her. He smiled and held his hand up, signaling her to wait, put the last book away, and then came over and unlocked the door.

"I see those vampire senses work through plate glass," she said.

"Somethin' like that." Up close she could see that he really did look tired.

"Are you o.k.?" she asked.

"Yeah, why?" He reached behind the counter and grabbed his coat, still black, still leather, but much shorter in length.

"You just look a little tired."

"I'm fine, no worries. Want some company on patrol?"

"No, you don't have to." She watched him slip into his coat, and thought of the other black leather jacket hanging in her closet at home. He hadn't mentioned it, and neither had she.

"That's why you came by, innit?"

"Well, yes."

He began walking toward the back. "Then let's go kick a little demon ass" he said with a grin.

And kick ass they did. The vampires had been particularly numerous and nasty lately, and Buffy was glad to have Spike there for more reasons than one. He had only been patrolling with her a couple of times since he'd returned, and she had been pleased to see that they still had that unspoken communication when they fought together, and she still got a thrill out it. He anticipated her every move, and she his.

Until that last vamp, that is.

She went for the roundhouse kick, the vamp ducked, and Spike's face connected solidly with her boot. He hit the ground hard, and Buffy staked the vamp, then crawled over to Spike, where he lay on his back, holding his head in his hands.

"I'm so, so sorry. Are you alright?" She kneeled over him.

"Yeah, yeah, it's not your fault. I got in the way. Besides, you didn't kick me that hard."

"Let me see," she said, pulling his hands away. There was only a small mark on his face, but his eyes were filled with pain. "I think I see...yeah, genuine leather uppers...."

He laughed and rolled over, getting to his feet. "Don't tease a bloke with no reflection."

They walked slowly back to her house, and when they stopped in front she did what she'd wanted to do the other nights he'd patrolled with her, but had been too chicken to. She asked him in.

"I don't think so, Buffy. Not tonight."

Rejection. She wanted to run into the house and hide under her covers, but she took a deep breath and plowed ahead. "Oh, come on. I'll make you hot chocolate, with those little marshmallows. And I'll even throw in an ice pack. What do you say?"

He hesitated, trying to think of what to say to her. And the worst thing was, she could see that it wasn't because he was conflicted. He was trying to let her down easy. He wasn't coming in.

"Buffy, that's sound great, but my head really hurts. I think I'll just go home. Maybe some other time." He gave her a half wave and started to walk away.

"Spike!" she called after him.

He turned around, and she couldn't quite tell if that pinched look on his face, the one that he was trying to hide, was because his head hurt, or because he was annoyed and just wanted to leave.

"I'm sorry I kicked you. I didn't mean to hurt you."

His face softened. "I know, slayer. Hazards of the job and all that. Wasn't your fault, I told you that. Besides, kinda had a bit of a headache to begin with. Must be all that tiny hand writing of Giles's I'm always trying to read."

"Yeah, that must be it. Good night, Spike."

He gave her a tired smile, and then walked away.

***************************

The following day, Buffy called Willow and arranged to meet her for lunch at the on-campus pub. As she sat waiting for her and sipping on an iced tea, Buffy looked around at all the college kids, people her age, chatting over burgers and text books. She was a bit envious, but she didn't truly want to be them anymore. This wasn't her world, and she knew it.

"Hey, Buffy!" Willow slid into the chair across from her, throwing her backpack down on the floor. "What's up?"

"Just missed you. Needed the girl talk," Buffy said truthfully. "How is it, being back on campus?"

"It's good, really. It's nice to have a routine." Willow grinned. "You know me. The only person I know who loves homework. How are you doing? You look a little down."

The waitress came by then and they ordered their food. Buffy swirled her straw around in her glass, clinking the ice cubes against the sides. Willow waited patiently.

"I, uh, we never really talked about me and Spike," she finally said.

"No, we didn't," Willow said softly. "I wish you had confided in me."

"I couldn't. I just...couldn't, not then."

"What about now?" Willow asked.

"There's nothing to confide now. There is no me and Spike." Their food arrived and Buffy took a bite of a French fry.

"So, is that why you brought it up? Because there's nothing to talk about?"

Buffy let out a little laugh "Right. Well, I...I miss him," she sighed. "I kept telling him to move on, and when he finally left, I couldn't stop thinking about him. And now that he's back, I miss him more than ever. But it doesn't matter. He doesn't feel the same way about me anymore."

"Is that what he said?" Willow struggled to keep her voice neutral. She didn't really want to be in this position, but she cared about both of them.

"Sort of. He just wants to be friends."

"What do you want?" Willow asked between bites of salad.

"More."

"More as in sex or more as in a relationship?"

Buffy shook her head and smiled ruefully. "He gave you all the gory details, didn't he?"

"It wasn't like that, Buffy. We were both in a really bad place. He needed someone to talk to."

"You must think I'm a terrible person, the way I treated him." She toyed with another fry, dipping it in and out of a dollop of ketchup on her plate.

Willow set down her fork. "Buffy, I'm so not with the judgement when it comes to relationship behavior. I did a terrible thing to Tara. Twice. And it cost me a lot of time with her. I love both you and Spike, and I just want you to be happy. Spike..." she hesitated, wondering how much she should say. "Spike feels...bad is not a strong enough word...for how he behaved. As for how you treated him, well, it's complicated. I think at this point it's safer for him to believe that it's entirely hopeless."

Buffy's eyes filled with tears. "But I've changed, and so has he. I think it could be different this time."

"Have you told him that?" Willow asked.

"No. I'm afraid. I'm afraid he'll laugh in my face, or worse, he'll be all rational and adult about it and I'll be all blithering idiot." She looked up from her plate.

"Maybe you should just give it some time, see what happens. He's dealing with a lot of stuff right now, Buff."

"I know, I know, but patience. A virtue. Not mine." Buffy pushed her plate aside. "Will, I'm not asking you to reveal any confidences. But, do you think I have a chance? I just don't want to make a fool out of myself."

Willow smiled sadly. "If you really want him, Buffy, you might have to risk it."

"I know," sighed Buffy. "Love is just one whole big risky thing."
 

The ground floor hallway of the apartment building was quiet and dimly lit. She heard a door open and then close again a couple of floors up, followed by footsteps on the stairs. They ended with the front door being opened and closed with a bang on the floor above her. Most people would still be at work, although it was late afternoon and they would begin arriving home shortly. She had considered calling and letting him know she was coming, but she didn't really want him to be that prepared. He knew her too well already.

Buffy screwed up her courage and knocked tentatively on the apartment door. I can do this, she thought. If I can save the world a half dozen times, I can tell a guy I like him. She waited. No answer. She knocked again, harder this time. When the door didn't open immediately she began walking quickly back down the hall and toward the stairs. The door opened when she was halfway there.

"Slayer, where ya goin'?"

She turned and walked towards him. "Oh, I thought, maybe you weren't home, or were asleep. Or something."

"I'm here," he said. He took a step back and opened the door a little wider in invitation, and she stepped across the threshold. The room was dark, but warm and inviting, lit by a few small table lamps. Music was playing softly in the background. It was neither his beloved punk, nor classical, as she imagined William might have listened to. Instead, it was something bluesy. Guitars and saxophones. Spike was wearing black jeans, with a blue cotton shirt unbuttoned over them, his feet bare, his hair tousled.

"I woke you up," she observed. She wondered if he could here her heart pounding. No one had ever had such a physical affect on her.

"Not really." He raked his hands through his hair, trying to straighten it, and then began buttoning up his shirt. "Can I get you somethin' to drink maybe?"

"No. No thanks. How's your head?"

He reached up and touched his cheek, where there was a small abrasion. "Feels o.k. How's it look?"

"There's just a little scrape. Don't worry. You're still as handsome as ever." An odd look passed over his face. She'd made him uncomfortable again, and she almost lost her nerve. She took a deep breath. "Can we sit down?" she asked.

"Oh, sorry, go ahead," he said, nodding towards the living room. She sat on the sofa, but instead of sitting next to her, he chose the chair.

He sat there silently, staring not at her but at some point just to the right of her head, and she had the distinct feeling that he knew exactly why she was there. He used to be all coiled energy, unable to keep still. Now he was calmer, more centered, and somehow, to her at least, more intimidating. Again, she almost got up and left. But she decided she owed it to him to go through with this, even if he made her feel like a fool; she'd made him feel that way too many times.

"I wanted to talk to you about...us." He looked at her now, swallowed hard, but didn't say anything. "I...I would like, oh boy," she took a shaky breath. "I have um, feelings for you, and I know what you said before, about being just friends, but I wondered, if maybe we could try, you know, to be more than friends." His expression didn't change. "Look, if you could say something, anything at all, it would be helpful, because otherwise I'm liable to keep babbling...."

"Buffy," he sighed, "I just don't think it's a good idea."

"I know, given our history, it seems that way. But, things are so much different now."

He closed his eyes for a moment. God, this is what he always wanted, wasn't it?

"You mean, because I have a soul?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"Not just that. I've changed, too. But, isn't that why you did it? So that we could be together?"

"Yes, that's what I thought before. But, I just wish...."

"You wish I had loved you without a soul. And now that you have a soul, you don't want me anymore. Let's pause and appreciate the irony." She stared at her hands which refused to remain still.

"I never said that." He put his hands to his head and exhaled a frustrated breath. "A part of me will always love you. I just can't go back to what we had. You said that being with me was killing you. And our relationship, if you can call it that, did practically kill me. Things have changed, Buffy. I've changed."

"I treated you beyond badly. I know that! I thought you forgave me. And I did have feelings for you. I told you that before, Spike. I just couldn't, I couldn't...." She began to cry.

"I know, and I do forgive you," he said gently. He got up from the chair and walked behind it, gripping the back with his hands. "What do you want to hear, Buffy? That I'm barely hangin' on? About the nightmares I have every time I close my eyes? That every time I look at you I see your face like it was that day in your bathroom? You ask me why I look tired. It's 'cause I hardly bloody sleep. I'm tryin' to get through this, but I just can't take any high drama right now. I've had enough. I don't trust myself right now and I certainly don't...." He turned his back to her and leaned against the chair.

"You don't trust me," she finished. She gave him a moment to compose himself, then went and stood in front of him. "I'm sorry you're in so much pain," she said, " because of me."

His eyes welled up with tears and he shook his head vehemently. "No, not your fault. My decision."

She walked slowly to the door and opened it. "Are we still friends?"

"I hope so."

"And maybe more some day? Come on, throw me a crumb." He looked up to find her smiling teasingly at him, but her eyes still shone with tears.

"Yeah," he said, returning her smile and wiping his own tears off his face with the heels of his hands, "someday."

She stepped into the hall and started to close the door. Hesitating, she looked back at him. "You know what I see every time I look at your face?"

He didn't trust his voice, and just shook his head.

"I see the man who said that every night, he saved me."

She shut the door, and when he heard the click of the latch he walked quickly to it and put his hand on the knob.

But he didn't open it.