Spike sat in his ratty old chair staring at the wall of his crypt. He was smoking and nervously drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. Patience was not his best quality. Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door, which sent him leaping out of his chair in surprise. He hadn’t had any company in weeks, not since the Scooby gang had made it plain how they felt about him. No more coming to Spike for help... no more dropping by even to punch him out.

"Who is it?" he called out.

There was no answer, just louder knocking. Spike went to the door and opened it. There stood Buffy, looking strangely nervous and ill at ease. Spike hadn’t seen Buffy in 3 weeks and her beauty, after this long drought hit him in his gut.

Buffy looked up at him, "Uh... May I come in?"

"Why?!" Spike demanded. He wasn’t going to let her get to him.

"I really need to talk to you." Buffy ventured timidly.

"Oh, I see…YOU need to talk to ME. What about all those times these last weeks, when I’ve needed to talk to you? And got nothin’ but the bum’s rush from you and your friends!"

"That’s what I’ve wanted to talk to you about. I’ve been thinking a lot lately."

"Oh," Spike sneered. "You’ve been thinking. How unusual. How’s that been working out for you?"

Buffy didn’t rise to the bait. She stared down at her feet.

"Well, you might as well come in... We can’t very well do the last scene of Gone With The Wind, standin’ in the doorway, now can we?"

Buffy looked blank. "Gone with the Wind?"

"Never mind, " Spike said hastily... "Come in then."

Buffy waited for Spike to enter and followed behind him. Spike turned. He didn’t offer her a chair.

"Well, so what has been the big result of all this… thinkin’?"

Buffy hesitated... "I, uh... think that we…I... have misjudged you."

"Oh... I see."

"You’re offering to kill Drusilla for me... I just realized how much she meant to you and what a big sacrifice you were willing to make... for me."

"Really."

Buffy looked up at him imploringly, "I want to apologize, Spike... for everything."

Spike smiled to himself. This was bloody well more like it. "Everything, pet?"

"For not trusting you, and for not thanking you for all the really noble things you’ve been doing lately. I was just too blinded by my own problems to really see you."

Spike was beginning to be moved by her words in spite of himself.

"And if I was to forgive you, pet... What then? We get to go back to you barely toleratin’ me? Using me when you need me, and ignoring me the rest of the time?"

Buffy started to cry. "Oh Spike... I am so sorry. I just wasn’t thinking about how that must have hurt you."

Spike put his arms around Buffy... he never could resist tears. "It’s okay. Love. It’s okay. I forgive you."

Buffy raised tear stained eyes to his... "Spike... was it true what you said? That you love me?"

Spike kissed her gently. "Yes, my Darling... More than you will ever know."

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She felt so very good in his arms, just as he had imagined so many times over the past few months, and years. He kissed her again. But he had to ask...

"Buffy," he said. "Are you sure you want to do this? What about your friends and family... what would they think?"

He laughed. "I mean... what would your Mum say if she could see us now?"

"Oh, " Buffy said, "That’s not a problem…my Mother is dead."

Spike felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. He pushed Buffy away and looked her in the eye.

"She... she’s dead? Really? Goddamn Bloody Hell! When?"

"Three weeks ago... it was in all the papers,"

"I don’t read the bloody papers... and I’ve hardly been out of this sodding crypt!" He suddenly thrust Buffy away from him.

"Spike! What’s wrong?"

He looked at Buffy cowering against his coffin. Tears were running down her face, but not for her mother... they were for HIM, only him. Bloody sodding Hell! This was a disaster. She looked so beautiful in that blue cashmere turtleneck that brought out the color of her eyes... He couldn’t bring himself to hate her.

"Come here, love. It’s all right," Spike said.

Buffy smiled and came back into his arms. Spike gently pulled the sweater up over her head, murmuring comforting words in her ear, telling her that he loved her, that it would be okay. His hands roamed her back and, down by her waist, he found what he was looking for. The one thing Warren had forgotten to give April... an OFF switch.

The End