"Okay, I'm going out," Buffy called to the group in the kitchen.  They would probably be up all night, taking turns watching Willow.  She'd been getting better lately, but it was still good to have someone watching her.  Since Buffy herself had spent hours anxiously cleaning up and listening for the slightest sound to come from the front room, she was nearly running out the door.  Sometimes it was good to get outside, get some fresh air, and fight a few good fights.  With every vampire or demon she killed, she could make the world a little safer for Willow and everyone else.  No one else could get hurt.  After Tara, one more person, anyone really, was all the Scoobies would be able to take.  They would all fall apart.  Too many people leave the Hellmouth.  Permanently.  That's probably why real estate is having a slow year.  No property value.  Including my house...Buffy's thoughts stopped short as she realized she was standing in front of Spike's crypt.  Someone else who had left town in a hurry.  And she still couldn't figure out whether she was glad about that or not.  Then someone bumped into her.

"Aughhh."  "Hey!"  "Don't kill me!"  "Clem, I'm not going to kill you.  What are you doing here?  Are you still watching Sp...uh, this place?"  Clem stopped where he was standing and tried, unsuccessfully, to grin innocently.  "Huh?  What?  Oh.  I guess he didn't...Well he is, but...Maybe he should tell you..."  Buffy frowned.  "He who?  Spike?  He's here?"  "Well, yeah, he's back, but I think he wants to be alone."  "Really?" Buffy asked.  "Then why are you here?"  Before Clem could answer, Buffy pushed him aside and stormed through the crypt's door.  There he was, sitting on the couch, staring into space, in front of a fuzzy television.  She stopped short.  Why was she so anxious to come in here?  She didn't have anything to say.  She started to back out.  And bumped into Clem.

"Clem, I told you, I wanted to be left alone."  He turned around and froze.  It was her.  She was here.  Omigod, she was here, and he was here, but he wasn't supposed to be here.  The thought shocked him out of his stupor.  "What are you doing here?" he asked.  "I could ask you the same question," she shot back, righting herself.  "You haven't been here for months, and now you're back, and you didn't even tell me you were back, and actually, you didn't tell me you were leaving, and now <u>you're back</u>?"  He said nothing, just stared at her.  She stared back, folding her arms in defiance.  "So, are you going to say anything?  Anything at all?"  At this point, Clem was getting a bit uncomfortable.  He put his package on the endtable and backed towards the door.  "Um, I was just leaving this.  I'll see you later."  Buffy turned to him as he left, and then turned her attention back to Spike.  "Maybe I should leave too," she said.  "No, don't go,” he replied.  “I’m sorry.  I, uh, didn’t mean to be rude.  I just…Why do you care?  I thought you’d be...wouldn’t even…after what I did…”  He ended quietly, hanging his head in shame, turning his face away from her.  She shouldn’t even have to look at him, and he certainly didn’t deserve to look at her.  The journey that had taken him away from Sunnydale had made his devotion to her even stronger.  But that bloody pesky soul he had asked for kept plaguing his brain with things he’d done.  And now even he didn’t think he deserved her love.  That stodgy bastard, Xander, had been right all along.  He was scum.  But the little angel on the other shoulder kept reminding him that he had done some good things.  All of them because of her.  And he would continue to do whatever he could in hopes that one day he’d be closer to hero instead of horror.  And then maybe she could love him.  He found himself wondering why the room was so silent.  He turned around and finally looked at her, face to face.  He tried to form a tangible thought, maybe some actual words, but he couldn’t.

Buffy, on the other hand, wasn’t trying to form any words.  She was too busy evaluating her shoes.  She loved these shoes when she first saw them.  They were perfect for walking through marshy cemeteries without getting stuck.  They were within her pathetically small budget, and they were purple.  Very nice shoes, she thought.  Perfect for the frugal Slayer.  Everything was perfect.  When she finally found the courage to look up from where she had been staring, she found Spike was facing her.  For the first time in months, she was looking directly into those steel blue eyes, flanked by perfect cheekbones, and ending in full, pursed lips.  The same face had been invading her dreams for years now.  In the beginning, they were nightmares.  Sometimes they still were.  But sometimes they were fuzzy, warm feelings of contentment and comfort.  They way she had felt in his arms.  Hence the reason it was so hard to decide whether to start yelling again or cry because she missed his presence so badly.  Regardless of his rash behavior, he had always been there to help her anytime she needed it.  Then, just like everyone else, he disappeared without a trace, or even a proper goodbye.  So she convinced herself she would probably never see him again, and had somewhat come to terms with it, like she did with everyone else.  And yet, here he was, back again, like he always managed to find his way back, and she was nearly bursting to throw her arms around him and feel that he was really there.  When her thoughts came back into focus, she noticed the bruises and burns on his eyes and neck.  She reached up and pulled his shirt down a little.  The wounds were worse.  She looked into his eyes, concerned.  “What happened?  What happened to you?  Where were you?”

He didn’t answer her at first.  He wasn’t about to use his journey as an excuse for a pity-party.  He had done what he did to prove he was going to stay on her side.  If it took him forever, he would keep trying until she saw that he had changed, and wanted him again.  So instead of responding, he tried to move her hand so she couldn’t see how bad the rest of his body was.  He deserved the pain of his lacerations, and he wanted to feel it in full force.  It was nothing compared to the pain he had caused.  He finally understood Angel a little better.  He had spent quite a bit of time hating him and poking fun at his brooding ways.  But what else could a man do but sit and think about how much angst he put into the world?  And always without a care.  He had destroyed lives with a song in his heart and a dance in his feet.  Life after death had been so much better than existing as he was.  But the things he remembered were not how you left your mark on the planet.  And they were not the way to win the affections of a true champion like Buffy.  So he kept his secret to himself.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t hide his pain as well.  He winced when she moved her hand, and nearly collapsed when he turned away from her.  She caught him and led him to the couch.

Buffy’s emotions were running high as she allowed Spike to lean on her for support.  She couldn’t imagine what he had gone through that would have kept him away so long and caused him so much pain.  She crouched in front of him and moved his face toward hers.  “Are you going to tell me what happened?” she asked him.  He shook his head.  “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway.  But for the record, I’m glad you’re back,” she said quietly, and got up to leave.  She faintly heard him whisper, “Why?”  “Why what?” she replied.  “Why are you glad I’m back?” he asked her, turning his head to look at her.  “Why on earth would you want to see me again?”  Buffy bit her lip to try and hold back the tears that were threatening to spill onto her cheeks.  “Do you even know what went on here while you were gone?” she asked him through gritted teeth.  “Do you have any idea what we went through?  Do you even care?  Or are you so busy feeling bad because you hurt me?”  The tears won the battle and began to trail down her face.  “Did you even miss me?” she questioned in a tiny voice.  “Every minute,” he replied softly, to the door.  He couldn’t be sure she had heard.  She had run out the door, back into the dark, comforting arms of the night.  He wanted to go after her, but it hurt too much.  So he went back to staring at nothing in particular.

When Buffy got far enough away from the crypt she kneeled next to a headstone and allowed herself to cry.  She hadn’t let herself evaluate the Spike situation for so long.  Seeing him had brought it all raring to the surface.  So she cried.  A good hard cry.  For herself, for Willow, for Tara, for whatever had happened to Spike.  She was so tired of holding it all in, and not letting anyone know how much everything had hurt.  She was so deep into her hiccupping sobs, the soft voice behind her scared her half to death.  “Hey, are you okay?”  It was Clem.  He had hung around to make sure his friend was okay.  Apparently, it was Buffy who needed the support.  So, he helped her get up off of the ground and handed her a tissue.  (A good skin-challenged demon always kept tissue around.)  He kept a steady hand on her shoulder.  “He still loves you, you know.  He just feels bad.”  Buffy took a deep breath.  “Thank you, Clem.  But I’ll be fine,” she said to the demon that had become a strange addition to the Scoobies.  “I’ll be fine,” she repeated, more for herself than him.  She turned to leave.  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” Clem yelled after her.  “It’s him.”  She turned back to him and smiled sadly.  “Me too,” she replied.

When she arrived back at home, Buffy could think of nothing but Spike.  It was bothering her more than she’d like to admit.  She did the only thing she could think of to ease her conscience.  She called Giles.  After she told him everything, he agreed the situation warranted further investigation.  “I’ll ask around and see if anyone’s heard anything.  Whatever happened, if he’s that hurt, someone had to have heard about it.  I’ll ring you back.  Hopefully at a more decent hour.”  Buffy cringed.  “Sorry, Giles.  I’m just…”  “No, Buffy, it’s okay.  I understand.  And I’ll let you know when I find something out, okay?”  “Okay.  Thanks,” she replied and hung up.  She knew Giles would find out what happened.  Her conscience wasn’t eased enough for her to sleep.  She sat in bed, worried.  She fell into a fitful sleep, plagued with nightmares about horrible creatures, striking her and spitting fire as she tried in vain to protect herself.  And Spike walking away while she screamed for help.

When Buffy awoke the next morning, she didn’t feel any better.  She laid in bed the majority of the morning and most of the afternoon.  She didn’t want to tell anyone he was back.  Not until she knew more.  She heard Dawn calling her name from downstairs.  Telephone.  Giles.  She threw on a robe and ran down the stairs.  “Giles,” she exclaimed breathlessly, “Did you find anything?”  “Not much,” he replied.  “Just that a sorcerer demon from South Africa, known to grant wishes, is looking for a new guard for his lair.  He says the previous one was killed by a vampire.”  “Oh,” Buffy said, puzzled.  “Why would he kill him and not the demon?”  “Obviously, he asked for something,” Giles replied.  “What, I don’t know.”  Buffy thought for a minute, then her breath caught in her throat.  “I think I do,” she responded and promised to call him back later.   When she came back downstairs, all dressed, Dawn asked her where she was going in such a rush, after a largely uneventful morning.  “I have to check on something for Giles,” she replied, somewhat truthfully.  “Will you call Xander if anything happens with Willow?”  Dawn looked at her funny, but agreed, and Buffy grabbed her jacket and left.  Dawn watched her out the window, wondering what was going on, why she was up all last night, but not daring to ask.  Buffy would tell them when she was ready.  She probably just didn’t want to worry them.  So she turned back to the tv and kept an ear out for Willow.

Buffy stood in front of Spike’s crypt door as she had so many times in the past.  This time was so much different.  She wasn’t there to beat information out of him.  She wasn’t there to make her pain go away.  She was there to have a conversation.  A real conversation.  The kind you have with people you really care about and want to help.  If her theory was correct, Spike had asked the African demon sorcerer guy for the one thing he felt he needed to get her to face her feelings for him.  And it had worked.  She was touched in a way she had never been before.  Her two serious relationships had been ones of much pain and sacrifice, but neither Angel nor Riley had ever bothered to go this far.  Instead of sacrificing for her, they had sacrificed her, in an attempt to save her from any pain.  But all she had felt was pain.  She didn’t know that she could feel anything else from a relationship.  Could Spike actually be the one person who could undo all of the doubt life had interjected into her?  Or would his newfound conscience force him away from her as it did everyone else she cared about?  If she was as brave as she pretended to be, she could at least step through the door and find out.  Whatever happened after that was up to the gods of fate.  So she took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Spike had been moping around his crypt for weeks now.  He knew it was time for him to fish or cut bait.  He needed to make a concrete decision about what he was going to do.  He had fought long and hard and gotten what he asked for from the demon sorcerer.  Now that he had what he wanted, what was he going to do about it?  He had thought long and hard and decided he would stick around, just in case.  Buffy may need him someday.  And he wanted to be there to help her.  After all, he couldn’t keep watch over her and the Little Bit if he was anywhere but Sunnydale.  He had resigned himself to the fact that this was his home for the rest of his unlife.  Or for as long as Buffy was alive.  If she was ever taken from him again, he would certainly die of a broken heart.  How he had made it through the first time was beyond him.  Maybe he was just being strong for Dawn.  She hadn’t needed for everyone to abandon her when her last two family members had died within months of each other.  So he stayed strong for her, and was rewarded for his dedication when the universe returned his beloved to him.  And as if the Powers That Be could hear his thoughts, the light gardenia smell of her hair suspended his thoughts.  He turned towards the door, hoping against hope that she was standing there, waiting for him.  Much to his surprise and amazement, Buffy stood in front of him, bathed in the soft glow of early dawn.  His heart dropped at the sight of her.  Maybe the universe had decided to reward him again for his good deeds.  Whatever it was, he didn’t care.  He got up, walked towards her, and engulfed her in his arms.

Buffy dropped the bag of blood she had gotten from the local butcher and held Spike as closely as she could.  Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter but the fact that he was there and she was there.  He winced a little, then she remembered his wounds and let him go.  He backed away almost instantly.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I’m sorry for everything.  You told me how you felt and I went completely crazy.  I couldn’t help it then.  I promise you it will never happen again, okay?”  He looked at her so earnestly she nearly burst into tears again.  “I know, Spike.  I know what happened,” she replied, stooping to pick up the bag.  “Word gets around when a sorcerer demon looses his favorite guard…demon.”

Spike stared at her in astonishment.  She handed him the bag and out her hands in her back pockets.  “It’s fresh.  I thought it might help you feel better.”  He set the parcel aside and pulled her hand out of her pants.  “Never mind me.  How do you feel?  Are you okay?”  “Define okay,” she answered.  “Okay after what I did,” he said gently, still holding her hand.  She took her hand away, suddenly frightened by the memories of his desperate act.  She answered him the best way she could.  “I forgave Angel for trying to kill me.  I can forgive you for trying to love me.”  He continued, “I was mad.  And heated.  I never meant to hurt you, Buffy.  You know how much I love you.  I just wanted…I just wanted you to love me.  And you told me you couldn’t.  Couldn’t.  Ever.”  Buffy felt a lump crawling up her chest.  She struggled to hold it in, but it freed itself against her will.  “I can’t, Spike, I just can’t.  It has nothing to do with you being you.  It was me.  People around me get killed or leave before they do.  I can’t have my heart broken anymore.”  The small sob turned into a wail and she let the tears flow without restraint.  “I’m sorry, too.  I hurt you and I didn’t even care.  I do care about you.”  He pulled her into his arms again and held her until the sobbing subsided.

When she was able to talk again, she told him everything that had happened while he had been gone.  About the Troika, Tara, getting shot, and Giles coming and then leaving again.  “Do you understand now?  I can’t tether you to me.  If you leave, you’ll be able to have some kind of life.  Angel left and he’s happy now.  Riley left and he’s married.  If you leave, you can be happy somewhere without me to screw it up.  That’s why I said that.  I don‘t want anyone else to be hurt because of me.”  Spike took a moment and contemplated her logic.  “Luv, the only time I hurt is when you’re not near me.”  He lifted her tear-stained face and directed her eyes towards his own.  “You don’t want me to leave you.  You’re just afraid I would eventually anyway.  Just because those other two blokes rode off into the sunset and left you behind doesn’t mean I will.  They were bloody stupid.  I know a good thing when I see it. You did what you did because you are afraid.  Pet, you never have to be afraid of me.  I’m in this for the long haul, whether you are or not.  I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”  He smiled at her.  She reached up and touched his face.  “Promise?  Promise me you’ll never leave me.  Please.  Please don’t ever leave me again.”  He kissed her and placed her hand over the spot where his shiny new heart lay.  “I promise.”  She welled up again, but smiled through the tears.  “Thank you.  Thank you for loving me.”  “I always will,” he replied.  “And so will I,” she whispered.