***

He barely heard the tiny knock at the door, but could sense Dawn there before she poked her head in. She smelled so much like Buffy. It was almost too difficult to be around her. Not only because of the familiar scent, there were times that aspect was a comfort, it was more the look in Dawn’s eyes whenever they met his that made his heart ache. It was the look of a little girl who had experienced too much loss too soon. He wanted so badly to help her, to take care of her. But it wasn’t his place. Xander and Anya had that covered. It seemed a little ridiculous to Spike at first, the whelp and his ex-demon playing house with a full-grown teenager for a child before they were even married. However it was no less ridiculous than Dawn’s guardian showing up for daytime school functions under a flaming blanket. It had all worked out for the best. Now she was in his crypt, checking up on him for the second time that day. Making sure he hadn’t gone away like others in her life had.

Spike had almost done just that. After failing so miserably to protect Dawn against Doc, after watching his love give her own life because of his mistake, he wanted to die too. He wanted to show up at Buffy’s daytime funeral and weep for her one final time before disintegrating into ashes. Dawn stopped him. The thought of how his death might actually cause Dawn even more pain was the only thing that kept him going. Otherwise... there was simply nothing else to live for.

"Spike?" Dawn called.

"Right here, luv, where I was when you left me this morning."

Dawn walked around Spike’s chair to face him. When she saw him slouched there she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow at him. "You still haven’t eaten, have you?"

"I will." Spike spoke in a raspy voice. It had been two days since he’d fed. He lacked the energy to hunt for rats and he didn’t really want to leave his crypt to buy blood. Buffy’s... stone was somewhere out there. He wasn’t sure where. He hadn’t seen it and he didn’t want to.

The day of the funeral, Spike had a nightmare that he was walking through the graveyard and suddenly began to sink into the ground. He looked up and saw that he was in front of Buffy’s gravestone, only in his dream it was a cold, marble statue of her. Spike was afraid of the statue. He had a horrible sense that Buffy was trapped inside of it, alive, but forever entombed. As he struggled to free himself from the wet ground, the statue’s eyes flew open to reveal only blank, white stone eyes. There was a terrible grating sound as one of the statue’s arms began to move and stretch out towards Spike. The fingers of one marble hand formed into a point and then the statue was speaking to him. "Why?" it said in a hollow, emotionless voice. "Why do you not come to death? She waits for you here. It was her gift. Now it is you." Every night since then, Spike had the same dream. He often woke, screaming, crying or saying, "I’m sorry." It was clear to him that the dream was telling him he ought to kill himself. It just wasn’t right that he should live on while Buffy lie in the ground, dead from a sacrifice she wouldn’t have had to make if he’d kept his promise. Someday he would make it right, but now, for whatever reason, Dawn seemed to need him around, so he would just have to live with the nightmares until she could move on.

Spike watched wearily as Dawn took off her backpack and began to rummage through it. She pulled out a few packets of blood and handed one to Spike. Spike was too surprised to react, so she took it back, opened it and handed it back to him.

"How did you..." Spike began.

"Just drink it. You need it. Your eyes are all glazy and sunken in." Dawn did not look at him as she spoke. Instead, she went to the fridge and deposited the remaining blood packets inside. "I know you like to drink other stuff too, but that kind of stuff’s a little harder for a fourteen year old to come by. Hilarious isn’t it? That’s Sunnydale for ya. Ask for a pint of blood, they hand it over, no questions asked. Ask for a pint of beer, they stare you down and demand identification--"

"Dawn." Spike was standing behind her now.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Dawn finally turned and looked at him. There it was. The pain in her eyes almost made him look away, but he owed it to her to feel that pain right along with her. "I don’t want to lose you too," she choked out. "I can’t. I need you." There was a long pause, and then, to Spike’s utter surprise, she threw her arms around him and held him in a desperate hug. Spike wasn’t sure what to do. No one had hugged him like this in a very very long time. He patted her back for a minute, then instincts took over and he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, realizing for the first time that what he felt for this little girl was absolute love. Love. He knew he loved Buffy. He had made peace with that part of himself, poncy little nancy-man that he was. But this was a different kind of love. He never had the chance to be a father, but he supposed this was what it felt like. A daughter. Wouldn’t that be something? Spike suddenly felt very self-conscious and started to pull away from the hug. How could he even think that he could be a father to Dawn? A father protects. A father keeps his promises.

"Shouldn’t you be getting back?" Spike finally managed to break away from Dawn’s clinging arms. "Xander and Anya are probably--"

"They know I’m here."

"They do?" That was a surprise. "They going to meet you here? ‘Cause it’s dark out. Someone needs to walk you home."

"You can."

"No... no I--"

"You have to see it sooner or later."

Spike knew very well what she meant.

"I can’t."

"Spike. Please. It will help, I think. Just a little." Dawn started to tug on Spike’s sleeve, guiding him toward the door. "Maybe you can start to move on."

That stopped him cold. "Move on? Why should I get to move on? She can’t bloody move on, can she?"

Dawn inhaled deeply and Spike realized that his outburst had hurt her. Her pain was still too raw. He had to remember to be gentler. As much like her as she was, Dawn was not Buffy.

"I’m sorry."

"Then come."

"I can’t, Dawn." Spike didn’t tell her about his dream, but Dawn could see in his eyes that he was haunted by feelings of guilt. He took Buffy’s death just as hard as they all did, maybe even harder because, as Dawn knew, Spike blamed himself.

"You can. You can do this for me." Dawn took Spike’s hand and led him out the door.

***

They arrived at the gravestone shortly after. Spike hung back and let Dawn go up and arrange the flowers at the base of the stone.

"Okay," Spike said with a voice that shook, "I’ve seen it. Now come on, let me take you home."

"Come over here." Dawn was angry now. "You can’t just pretend this didn’t happen. Hiding from it behind a tree is not going to make it any less real. Now it’s time for you to see this."

Spike obeyed her and stepped closer to the stone, being very careful to sidestep the mound of still fresh dirt in front of it. And there it was. Buffy Anne Summers. Her name carved into stone for an eternity. The name of the woman he would love for an eternity. Evidence that she was truly and completely gone. Forever. Suddenly nausea swept over him and he collapsed to the ground in a dead faint.

Pum-pum. Pum-pum. Pum-pum. A faint heartbeat. His heart was beating? That wasn’t possible. It must be Dawn’s. It didn’t sound like Dawn’s. Her heart was young and strong and new. It beat more rapidly. This heartbeat was strangled, lazy and... dying.

"Spike!" Dawn was coming into focus over him and now Spike heard two heartbeats. He recognized Dawn’s quick, pounding rhythm and knew she was worried about him. Hell, I’m worried about me. My heartbeat is slowing. Only I’m not supposed have a heartbeat. What the bleeding hell is going on!

"Spike! What’s the matter? What happened? Are you alright?"

"I’m-- fine, Nibblet. What’s--? Who’s here?"

"What?" Dawn’s face was clearing up and Spike could see the fear in her eyes. He sat up quickly to show her that he was okay, but it was a mistake.

"It’s okay. I’m Oh...ohhh, bloody hell." His head began to swim, but he forced himself to remain upright.

"Spike, you’re scaring me. What’s the matter with you?"

"I don’t know." There was a long silent pause and then Spike realized. "It’s gone."

"What’s gone?"

"The heartbeat."

Dawn was terrified. Something was very wrong with Spike. He had a dazed look in his eyes and he wasn’t making any sense. "This was a bad idea. Come on. Let’s get you back to your crypt."

"Where did it go?" Spike struggled to his feet and looked around. "I can’t hear it anymore." He called out to the darkness before them. "Where are you?"

"Spike, please. No one is here." Tears began to fall down Dawn’s face. She thought she had made Spike insane by forcing him to come here too soon. She wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t want to leave him alone, but if she didn’t get out of there soon, she was going to go crazy herself. "Let’s just go, okay? Please?"

Spike was still staggering around, looking in every direction, trying to find the origin of the heartbeat. "I didn’t just imagine--" Spike abruptly froze, his wild eyes landing on Buffy’s tombstone. "Oh God!" He dropped unceremoniously to the ground and Dawn thought that he had fainted again. Except his eyes were open.

Dawn watched as Spike turned his head, and pressed an ear to the ground. A second later he yanked himself up as though he’d been burned. He began to suck air into his chest in quick little heaves, almost as if he were hyperventilating.

"Oh God. Oh God. Oh my God. Oh God." Spike was ranting. Pacing. His eyes were wet. He was a man gone mad.

Dawn could only watch in silent horror as Spike again threw himself to the ground and began pulling chunks of dirt from Buffy’s carefully manicured grave. "Buffy!" Spike cried out in a broken voice. "Oh my God, Buffy!"

Dawn snapped out of her trance when dirt from Buffy’s grave fell at her feet. "No! Stop it!" She went to grab Spike and hold his arms, but he thrust her away, violently. She flailed backwards and narrowly missed hitting her head on a nearby tombstone.

Spike continued to pull away the dirt, yanking off his long leather coat so he could work more quickly. Dawn watched him carefully as she slunk away, running off toward home. She needed help.

***

When Giles arrived with the rest of the gang in tow, the first thing he noticed was Buffy’s grave, completely torn apart. He felt as though someone punched him in the stomach. I’ll kill him, Giles thought. He then caught sight of Spike walking in from the direction of his crypt, carrying large digging tools and what looked like a pick ax. He was covered in dirt from head to foot and had a wildly determined look in his eyes. As he passed the group, Spike glanced up, noticing them but not slowing down. "Good, you’re here. I need help. I had to go get some tools. This is taking too long." To everyone’s surprise he dropped into the hole in front of the gravestone and disappeared. A moment later, he popped up and turned to them. "It’s still there... very faint. Here, take one of these and start digging out this end."

Giles could take no more. He stalked up to Spike and with one hand, yanked him out of the hole by his shirt. "What in the name of God do you think you’re doing?!"

Spike seemed very agitated for the interruption. "Giles, she’s alive. I can hear her heartbeat. I never came here before, but today I heard her heartbeat. It’s very faint, but she’s ALIVE in there. We have to get her out or she’s going to die. Now, let me GO!"

Giles held on to him with both hands now and shook him hard. "Spike! You have to stop this. I’m very sorry that Buffy’s death is causing you so much pain. We are, all of us here, in as much pain, if not more. But I will not let you desecrate this grave any longer. Look what you’ve done. Look what you’re doing to Dawn!"

Spike stole a quick glance at Dawn. She was sobbing. He didn’t have time to worry about that, so he turned back to Giles. "It’s not a grave. She’s alive. I can hear her heartbeat. I know it’s her. I had this dream. I thought the dream was telling me to kill myself, but it was telling me to come here and save her. She’s not dead, Giles! Let go of me. Help me get her out of there!"

Spike started to struggle harder and Giles called to Xander for help in holding him down.

"No! Let me go!"

Spike ripped his arm free and punched Giles across the face. It set off his chip. He screamed in agony and sunk to the ground. Xander grabbed Spike’s arms and held them behind him. Giles kneeled in front of Spike and forced him to look into his eyes. In a gentler tone, Giles said, "Spike, listen to me. Buffy’s body was embalmed and buried almost one week ago. Do you understand? It is impossible that she is alive in there. Whatever you’re hearing... it’s not real. It can’t be. We did NOT bury her alive."

Spike tilted his head and looked at Giles until the confusion in his eyes slowly cleared into realization. Exhausted, ashamed and stripped of all hope, Spike groaned weakly and hung his head, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks.

Xander and Giles looked at one another over Spike’s bowed head and Xander nodded. He let go of Spike’s arms and caught him around the chest to haul him off the ground. Giles assisted in getting the broken vampire to his feet. "Come along, Spike. Let’s get you home," Giles said softly.

Something snapped. "NO!" Spike roared and knocked Xander three feet back and into a tree, then screamed again as the chip went off in his head. Giles seized that opportunity to get control of the situation. No longer wishing to be gentle, he thrust Spike to the ground and kneeled on his back, like a police officer cuffing a criminal, only Giles could hear a rib or two snapping and Spike crying out in pain. It was unfortunate, but there was no other choice. Giles held Spike’s wrists together behind his back and Xander, recovering, came over and held Spike’s feet. "NOOOOO!" Spike continued to howl. "Please! Let me go! Bloody let me go! Get off of me!! She’s ALIVE! BUFFY!! BUFFFFAAAYYYYYYYYY!!!!"

Willow was standing next to Buffy’s grave when she heard the thump. Nerves already at the snapping point, she cried out and leapt away from the sound. Anya heard it too and began to move closer. Thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump-thump-thump. It was becoming more and more frantic.

The three men abruptly stopped struggling and all heads whipped around to see Anya staring down and into the grave, both alarmed and fascinated at the same time. Giles stood slowly, but Spike did not try to move. Xander was frozen.

Willow broke the trance by running to Dawn. "Dawn, is this a spell? Did you do this?"

Dawn was not listening. Her eyes were fixated on that dark hole in the earth, and the noise that was coming from it. Willow seized Dawn by the arms and tried to keep her tone from scaring the little girl, but she had to know. "Dawn, I won’t be mad. Please, just tell me if this is a spell you did." Nothing from Dawn. Willow shook her, hard. "Dawn!"

Dawn finally looked at Willow. "No. No, I don’t know what’s happening but... I didn’t do this!"

That was all Willow had to hear. She turned to the three thunderstruck men and yelled, "Go! Get her out of there!"

All three obeyed quickly, but when they got to the grave, they found that much of the dirt had fallen back into the hole as a result of the banging from within. They could see splintered pieces of wood and Giles pushed away the image of Buffy punching through the lid of the coffin only to be met with a barrage of soil, lending further to her suffocation. He barked at the other two, "Come on! Goddamn it! Hurry up! Xander, you dig out this bit here. We just need to get the top open!"

Xander was frantic. "The dirt down here is too packed. I need a... I need--"

And suddenly, the thumping stopped.

Everyone stopped what they were doing but Spike. His continuous digging was the only sound for a long moment. Then, Xander was screaming, "Buffy! Buffy can you hear me?"

Spike spoke in a surprisingly calm voice. "Her pulse is still... it’s there. Just work faster."

"Buffy! We’re coming. Just hold on!" A contradiction to Spike’s calm, Giles sounded like he was about to lose it. "Why the hell do they put these things down so bloody far!?"

It was Tara who had the presence of mind to walk over to Willow and extend her hand. It took Willow a split second to understand, then she nodded and stood, grasping her lover’s hand as they both turned toward the grave. The earth shook. The coffin shook under Spike and the others.

Spike misinterpreted the shaking and thought it was an earthquake, adding to their plight. "NO!" He yelled fiercely and tried to hold back the walls of soil from falling down on top of them.

Anya looked up at Willow and Tara and figured out what was happening. "No, look, they’re doing it! Get out, get out!"

The men jumped out of the grave and the coffin started to rise up. It took all of their energy to get the heavy box set down on the grass, but the witches did it. When it was done, they both slumped to the ground, drained, but satisfied.

Giles spared no time in ripping open the lid and they found Buffy inside, looking pale, half covered in soil and rather dead. Spike assured them, without looking at her, that her heart still beat. Giles confirmed it by taking her pulse the old fashioned way. Miraculously, she was alive. But not for long.

***

Spike was pacing back and forth. Giles was wringing his hands. Xander had his head in Anya’s lap and Tara, Willow and Dawn were too exhausted to move. The doctor came out and both Spike and Giles descended upon him.

"It’s nothing short of a miracle," the doctor was saying. "We had to clear her lungs of some dirt particles, bandage the abrasions on her hands and get her body temperature up to normal, but other than that, it looks like she’s going to be just fine."

Spike let out a shuddering sigh. Dawn put her head down and began to cry softly to herself. Willow noticed this and put an arm around her. The little girl had been through so much.

"I’ve seen similar cases in my tenure here at the hospital, but never has someone survived for five days..." The doctor noticed Dawn and decided not to finish his sentence.

Giles lowered his voice and asked, "Yes, but what about the embalming process?"

This question made the doctor a little nervous, but he spoke with the authority of a man trying to gloss over the fact that he may have made a huge mistake. "Well, it’s obvious she didn’t go through the embalming process. There was no ‘Y’ incision, and if it had been performed she would not, under any circumstances, have survived - even if she was alive before then. It’s not impossible that she... that her body was simply overlooked."

"OVERLOOKED!" Spike seized the doctor by his coat and growled at him. The doctor’s expression finally changed for the first time since he’d begun speaking. He looked afraid.

Giles simply put a hand on Spike’s shoulder and said, "Stop it."

Spike immediately backed off and resumed pacing. Giles made no apology for Spike, for, at that moment, he himself was trying to keep from crushing the doctor’s larynx with his bare hands. "Thank you, Doctor. You’ve been very... helpful. When can we see her?"

***

Giles had allowed everyone to go in and visit Buffy before him. He was still trying to formulate in his mind what on earth he was going to say to her. Was this his fault? Could he have done something to prevent this? No, she was dead when they arrived at the hospital that terrible day. He was sure of it, but... there were so many questions that needed answers and he was at a complete loss. But she was here. She was back with them. Impossibly. Miraculously. How it had happened seemed less important somehow. He watched through the hospital room window as Xander and Anya each hugged Buffy, then turned to head out the door. Giles shoved his hands in his pockets and walked over to Spike who was watching from even further away.

"Go on, then." He nudged Spike with his elbow. "It’s your turn."

Spike shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I’ll wait a bit. I’ll wait till she’s better, maybe. She looks so tired."

It was at that small, seemingly insignificant moment that Giles finally admitted to himself that what Spike felt for Buffy was real, pure and absolute love. Miracle number two of the day and counting. Giles looked down at his shoes. "It’s because of you and you alone that she’s alive right now. You know that, don’t you?"

"I should have gone there sooner. I would have--"

"There was absolutely no way you could have known." Looking into Spike’s eyes, Giles spoke quietly but sternly. "I won’t have this brooding over things that cannot be undone. For God’s sake, I almost let her die because I didn’t trust you enough to believe you."

Spike smiled, just a little. "Cracked two of my bloody ribs, you did."

"Yes, well, I’m sorry about that."

"S’okay."

There was an uncomfortable pause and then:

"Thank you, Spike. It’s not enough, but there it is." Giles didn’t wait for a response. He turned quickly and walked into Buffy’s room, missing the look of surprised gratitude on Spike’s face.

***

Giles entered the room to find Dawn asleep on her big sister’s shoulder. Buffy looked up from stroking Dawn’s hair and met Giles with a big, beautiful smile. A smile he thought he’d never see again.

Trying to control his emotions for both their sakes, Giles sat nervously on the edge of the hospital bed.

"Buffy, I-- I’m not sure what to say."

"Kind of a situation they haven’t invented words for yet." Buffy spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Are you alright?"

Buffy inhaled deeply and thought about it, as though she were taking inventory on her insides to see if everything was intact. "I don’t know. I don’t remember much."

"Yes, well, perhaps that’s for the best." There was a great pause and Buffy started to get concerned. She reached out and took Giles’ hand. He pulled away and blurted out, "I’m sorry. I thought... there was no pulse... and we took you to the hospital and they said... The doctors..."

Buffy grasped Giles hand again and held on more tightly. "Giles, this is not your fault. Something else is going on here. I feel it. There’s no way, even being the slayer, that I could have lasted five days without oxygen, or..." She could see and feel that Giles was shaking. "Giles, it’s okay to talk about. I don’t remember any of it. The only thing I remember is Spike calling out my name and it was all dark and then I punched through the... thing, and then lots of dirt."

Giles managed a smile.

"Why won’t he come in? He’s just standing out there. I can see him."

Following Buffy’s line of sight, Giles turned around and saw Spike through the window, standing in the same place he’d left him. Spike noticed them looking at him and dropped his eyes to the floor. He moved to walk away, but thought better of it and stayed put. Giles turned to face Buffy again. "I suspect he’s as terrified as I was that he’s going to wake up from this dream. Or that it will start to turn into a nightmare that he cannot wake up from. Or maybe he’s just afraid you’ll be... different."

"Am I?"

"No. Thank the gods, no, you are Buffy and I am so--" Giles couldn’t continue. Instead, he leaned in awkwardly and kissed Buffy on the cheek. She pulled him into a half hug with her free arm, careful not to wake Dawn. My father, she thought, before he sat up again, sniffling a little. Giles, ever the British gentleman, cleared his throat and put on his glasses.

"So..." Buffy picked up on his back to business gesture. "I guess it’s time to do the hokey pokey again."

Confusion from Giles, then, "Oh, yes," he said, laughing softly. "You mean the quest. Yes, I suppose the first slayer could shed some light on this, although the answers you got last time were a bit vague."

"Oh, no. This time she’s gonna be specific. She’s gonna use charts and diagrams and I’m gonna get some answers, even if I have to chase her around that fire and beat it out of her."

Giles’ heart filled with happiness. Buffy was back. "Yes, well, that’s for another day. Right now I’ll leave you to your rest." He gestured toward Dawn. "Shall I take her?"

"No, I kind of like having her here. But... can you tell him to come in now?"

It was at that moment that Giles recognized that Buffy might very possibly be falling in love with Spike. The day was just chock full of miracles. "Buffy, you should know that Spike is the reason..."

"I know," Buffy interrupted. "Dawn told me."

Giles nodded, turned toward the door, stopped and turned back. "It’s wonderful to have you back."

"It’s wonderful to be back."

***

Buffy watched through the window as Giles walked over to Spike and began speaking to him. Spike shook his head "no" and started to move away. Giles became irritated and pushed Spike in her direction. Buffy let out a little giggle at the scene, but then quickly wiped the smile off her face as she saw Spike heading for her room.

He opened the door slowly and softly, as if he might wake her with the noise. He did not meet her eyes as he walked in, and, Buffy noticed, he was disheveled and covered almost entirely with dirt.

"Hi." He said in a small voice.

"Hi, Spike. You look... good." Buffy knew that Spike was hurting, but could not resist teasing him.

Spike tried to smooth down his wild hair and brush some of the dirt away. "They tried to toss me out. Told me I wasn’t suitable for a sterile environment. I told them to get knotted."

There was an incredibly long pause in which neither of them said a thing and Spike kept his eyes focused on the sleeping Dawn. Buffy was growing slightly impatient, so she broke the ice. "So, if you keep up this heroic stuff, it’s gonna be really hard to keep beating the crap out of you. And I kinda like beating the crap out of you. So what do you suggest?"

Spike’s head popped up at this. He let out a short laugh and was just about to deliver a sharp retort when their eyes met. Spike inhaled quickly and on his exhale he breathed the words, "You look beautiful," before he could stop himself.

Buffy’s cheeks burned. She looked down at herself. "I’m paler than you and wearing a paper dress, but... okay. Thanks."

"I-- I just mean that it’s good to see you. You look better than expected. I mean, you’re alive and everything. Like, it’s a beautiful thing that... you’re not... dead." Spike squeezed his eyes shut, mortified by his own idiocy. He’d spent an hour outside, practicing what he was going to say to her and none of it was coming off.

"I have you to thank for that. For not being dead, I mean."

This brought him back to reality. "Wouldn’t have been stuck down there in the first place if I hadn’t screwed up so royally."

Buffy was confused. "Screwed up?"

"He thinks he didn’t make enough of an effort to save me after getting stabbed and thrown off the tower by the creepy tongue guy," said Dawn, who, as it turns out, was not quite as asleep as she let on.

Spike was startled by Dawn, but Buffy didn’t seem phased at all. She kept her eyes on Spike.

"I must have missed something."

Dawn continued. "That guy with the knife, remember I told you--"

"No." Buffy knitted her brow. "I mean, when did ‘screwing up’ become the slang for putting your life on the line to try and save a little girl? Because it really doesn’t sound right. In my day they used to call it ‘bravery’. I’m just not on board with that change."

Spike tilted his head and looked questioningly at Buffy who shrugged and smiled warmly at him. Unable to process that, Spike looked to Dawn and found her looking back at him with an impossibly huge grin. "I’m gonna go get a Coke. Anyone want?"

Buffy looked down at her sister, "No thanks," and then back to Spike, "You?"

Spike could only shake his head a little with a "no" response.

"’Kay." Dawn kissed Buffy on the cheek. "It’s good you’re here," she told her big sis, before hopping off the bed and bouncing toward the door. Spike watched Dawn’s carefree face and saw that the entire ordeal was already becoming a memory for her. He admired her resiliency. Suddenly, as if she’d heard him thinking about her, Dawn turned to him and stood on tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek. "It’s good we’re all here," she said, then turned and bounded out the door.

Buffy giggled at the look of complete astonishment on Spike’s face. "Big day for you, huh?"

Spike looked up at her like he’d forgotten she was there. It was all so overwhelming to him. It was like a dream he would never admit to having in the first place.

"Big day for me? You’re the one who’s back from beyond the bloody grave!" Spike fought hard to sound like his crusty old self, but the emotion in his voice betrayed him.

"Come here," she said softly.

"What?" The sound of her voice beckoning him made his whole body tingle.

"Come closer, I want to talk to you but my voice is sort of fading. Don’t know why. Guess ‘cause I haven’t... used it in a while."

"Oh. Oh... I’m sorry." Spike hurried to move closer so she wouldn’t have to struggle.

"Sit down."

He looked around for a chair.

"No, sit here."

Spike froze as he watched her pat a spot on the bed beside her. For some strange reason, he had the uncontrollable urge to laugh. So he did.

Buffy had never heard him laugh so freely before. It made him look very young. Very... human. "What’s funny?"

"I have no idea," Spike said, and let out one final chuckle before wiping his eyes.

"You’re nervous."

"Extremely."

"Why?"

He paused, then said, "This is not... anything like I imagined."

Buffy reached out and took his hand. She tugged at him until he was sitting on the bed with her. With his hand still in hers he asked, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

It was Buffy’s turn to laugh. "I guess that’s a fair question. I could answer that you just saved my life, but it’s not even the first time you’ve done it and I can see where you’d be confused. I don’t know. Maybe my inner bitch didn’t come back from the dead with me."

Spike laughed and shook his head. "Now, wouldn’t that be something. New and improved Buffy without the nasty bitch aftertaste."

"Hey, watch it. I’m sure I can conjure her up long enough to kick your punk ass."

Spike couldn’t believe what had just come out of his mouth. "Buffy, I’m so sorry--"

"Will you stop being so damn sorry! What’s the matter with you? This is my second time being dead and I haven’t let it change me, so just go back to being yourself again and stop being so polite!" She punctuated the end of her speech by slapping him in the chest.

He watched her pout at him for a moment and then smiled, understanding what she needed. "Okay, Slayer. You don't have to hit me, you lumbering bully. I was only being polite ‘cause you’re in hospital and you look all frail and everyone’s so happy to see you. But the novelty of you being not dead is definitely wearing off for me, so--"

Buffy yanked Spike down into a kiss. His shock soon gave way to pure pleasure as Buffy pulled away and smiled up at him. Her eyes told him this kiss was more than just an expression of gratitude. "I lied," he said gruffly, gazing into her eyes. "I’m actually still pretty glad you’re not dead."

Buffy smiled. "I lied too. I guess I have changed a little. But from where I sit, I’m thinking that’s not necessarily a bad. ‘Cause, you know, there gets to be kissing and stuff."

Spike laughed again and Buffy couldn’t resist touching his handsome face. "And I’m really liking the happy version of you. Can I keep the happy you?"

"You’ve got all of me. For as long as you want," Spike said, in a voice heavy with desire. "And, if you want me to be happy, love, all you have to do..." he took her hands in his and kissed them, "...is knock off all the bloody dying."

"That’s a deal." She said breathily, watching him as he turned her hands over and kissed her palms.

It was then that Spike noticed her heart beating for the first time since they’d gotten to the hospital. The rhythm wasn’t weak and struggling anymore, it was surging, pumping loudly in her chest. Beating, he realized, for him. He looked up into her eyes and knew that she loved him. This... was a good day. Spike sighed heavily and pulled Buffy into another kiss, this one much deeper and more intimate than the last.

There were still so many questions unanswered, still so many things left unsaid. All of it would have to wait.

***

Dawn was coming back down the hall from the hospital cafeteria. She stopped just before getting to Buffy’s room and crept up to the window. Xander watched her from where he was and became curious when he saw her jumping up and down and laughing quietly. "Hey, Dawnster, what’s the-- Oh, God."

THE END