Disclaimer: This story is B/A, it's ignoring C/A and B/S - so do you even have to ask?
Pairing: B/A - baby, did I ever write anything else?
Category: Angst
Rating: PG
Distribution: my site (www.never-ending-love.de), ffnet, several lists including BA_Fluff, if you have any of my stuff, just take it, anybody else please tell me where it goes
Spoilers: everything up to "The Gift" and "No Place Like …"
Summary: Buffy returns from Heaven … to a World changed forever
Timeline: Three months after "The Gift" - replaces the beginning of season 6 (Buffy) and 3 (Angel)
Feedback: oh yes, please!!! send it to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de
Dedication: For Ally - because her comment at the babbleboard gave me the inspiration, and to Tango because she wrote the fic that initiated the comment - and because she's simply an awesome writer.
Note: Tango wrote a fic called "Calling in Sick", and then Ally made a comment … and that's what happened … Bear with me … I know I have a ton of fics to finish, but this won't be a multi-part kind of thing. So here it is. It's un-beta-read ---- ENJOY!

When Dawn's arms wrapped around me, when she rocked me in her arms, held me close, I just had to ask.

"Is this Hell?"

I know I hurt her deeply with the question. I had finally returned to Sunnydale, and to her, the only family member left who gave a damn what was happening to her. I still can't believe Daddy never called. They told me he didn't attend my funeral. It didn't even hurt to hear it. Really, I never expected him to care. He hasn't for a while. When he stopped coming to my birthdays, when he assumed that sending buckets of flowers and cards and money was a replacement, I knew. I had become like all the other children of divorced parents. My mom still cared, she still loved me, but for my dad I was simply a nuisance, a problem he choose to resolve with money and presents.

And Dawn wasn't even real to him. I sometimes wonder if he even knows she exists. If the monks ever gave him the memories of her. On the other hand, it really doesn't matter. I'm back and I tried to get my life back, which was not really that bad - at first. I mean, my friends were totally helpful, took their time to talk to me, to ease me back into it. It was a bit strange to visit my own grave. To see the headstone with my name on it, the date of my death. But all in all I didn't do too badly. I coped. And went back to my grave.

Again and again.

It was strange really. As if something pushed me to go there. Like a hidden force. Something I couldn't control. I started to go out on patrol, and in the end I went to my grave. Stood there. Sometimes sat there. In the dark. In the moonlight. I didn't talk to myself. Not once. But there was a strange kind of peace around the place. As if a hand was held over me. Protecting me. I felt safe. Loved. I think I wouldn't have made it without the frequent visits.

It was a bit like going back to Heaven.

I never told anyone. I was afraid they'd check me into an institution. The way my parents did when I first told them about vampires. So I kept it a secret, life went on, wasn't even that bad. And then - one night - I remember it was a full moon - it happened.

I was sitting at my grave around midnight when I heard a noise. I jumped to my feet, stake ready for the kill when suddenly Spike appeared from behind a tree, his face wearing an unfamiliar seriousness for a moment, before the usual smirk curved his lips.

I released a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding, and tucked the stake back into the waistband of my pants. Shaking my head in annoyance, I sat back down, trying my best to ignore him all together. But of course ignoring has never been an option.

"Slayer. Out late, are we."

Not bothering to look up at him, I kept my eyes on the inscription on the headstone. "Spike. That's part of my job description. So if you kindly would leave."

I know I could've saved myself the words. Spike never did what he was told. This time wasn't an exception. So instead of turning away and disappearing in the dark or in a crypt or wherever - I really didn't care - he after a moment sat down beside me, legs crossed underneath, his leather duster draped around him. He didn't say anything, never even moved, just sat there. As if he belonged.

And that's what really annoyed me. This was my place. My private haven. He had no right to intrude.

When I returned from the dead, Spike was absent. I didn't even notice it at first. I was busy enough trying to get my life back on track. When I finally realised he wasn't around, Dawn looked at me with sad eyes, "He left. About two weeks after you … you know. He bought a new car and left."

"He probably stole it," was all I said. I didn't really care if he was around or not. Sure, he helped before, even tried to protect Dawn, and I'll be grateful for it, but it's not as if I was going to miss him.

"Huh?"

"I said, he probably stole the car. Spike doesn't buy them. He steals them."

Dawn only shrugged, "Whatever." She didn't care. For her, Spike was a friend. Someone who had never lied to her, someone she could confide in. She didn't care that he was an evil monster. For a while it scared me and I tried to tell her to be more careful around him, but when Spike didn't hurt her, I kind of let it go.

So Spike was gone and life went on. I sometimes saw Dawn staring out of the window into the night as if she was waiting for him to show up, but most of the time I simply ignored his absence. As I said before, life was difficult enough the way it was.

But now - sitting beside me - where he wasn't invited, he really annoyed me. "I told you to leave."

"Yeah, I heard," he replied, "Never listened to orders anyway."

We were once again silent for a while, I tried my best to ignore him, which was proving to be difficult. He simply isn't someone you can miss. Especially if he's sitting right next to you.

I don't know how much later it was, when he spoke again, "You come here often lately."

So he was around after all, I realised. And he watched me. Nothing new there. What really irked me, I never noticed. Maybe I was losing my edge. "You were watching me?"

"Sure. Not that it should surprise you," he shot back.

Not willing to comment what I knew all along, I gave him a huff, "So all of a sudden you decided to, what - show yourself?" I asked letting enough annoyance infuse my voice to let him hear he wasn't welcome.

"Yeah, well, it was getting mighty boring to just follow you around."

I had to laugh at that. Not that there was anything really laughable, but I still had to. "You should have practice with that."

"You'd think so. But without you knowing, where's the fun." He unfolded his legs all of a sudden, "It's not good for circulation, you know," he said and laughed himself silly over his own dumb joke. But somehow I should've known that it was nothing but an intro for something bad. I should've been prepared, after all the time he was following me around.

"Spike. Why don't you just go. Find yourself a crypt. Or a woman - uh - vampire-ss. Or a meal - no wait, that's not an option. So how about just disappearing from my sight?" I bit out between clenched teeth.

"Hey, I know when I'm not welcome." Stretching his arms, he got up in one fluid motion, stood above me for a moment, then turned and walked away.

I let out a breath of relief, and should've known that it was too soon, because when he reached the trees, stopped and looked at me over his shoulder. "By the way. Didn't you ever wonder why you came here night after night? Felt this pull to just … you know. Guess nobody told you so far. But I was never one for secrets. Angel killed himself right here." He grinned. I will remember that grin as long as I live. "Staked himself the poor bastard. Suppose he couldn't live with you gone. Just thought you'd wanted to know you're sitting on his ashes."

I heard him laugh when he finally made his way through the trees. My first urge was to throw up, but I swallowed the nausea down, not willing to desecrate this earth. I stared at the words on my headstone, wondered why his name wasn't on it. Why there was only mine, when I wasn't really in the ground anymore. Then I wondered why I never even asked.

All the time I was back I never asked once for Angel. And he never called. And I never wondered. Maybe I just accepted that we'd finally grown so far apart that it didn't matter anymore. Or I tried to forget what could never be. Whatever. Fact is, I never tried to contact him. I never felt the urge to. All I was looking forward to was coming here each night.

Spike's laughter once again reached my ears, and as if I was suddenly waking up, I jumped to my feet and raced after him in full Slayer-speed. I caught up with him easily, and I think he never saw me coming because I took him completely by surprise when I grabbed his shirt and slammed him against the tree.

"Oi, Slayer," he protested, but there was still that grin, "Be careful, will you. A lot of branches around here. I'm not really looking forward ending up on one."

"It was a lie," I screamed at him, ignoring his grin, just tightening my grip on his shirt, "Tell me you lied." But even then I knew it was true. It would explain everything. Why I just had to come. Why I simply needed to be there each night. Why I felt so at peace. Besides, Spike doesn't lie. Maybe it's a side effect of the demon, but Spike is the most honest person I have ever met. Most of the times, anyway.

"Sorry," he replied, and I knew he was not. "But it's the truth. I even saw him doing it. Thought for a moment to intervene, but then I thought he is probably a lot happier that way."

My hands fell away from him, my mind going blank, and I stepped back, needing distance. "It's not true," I repeated, knowing it was, knowing it like I knew my own hands, my own feet.

"Slayer, listen-," he started, but I didn't. I just backed away, through the trees, the night suddenly dark, the moon not shining anymore. You should think this wouldn't throw me, because we've been apart for so long. I had other lovers. We led separate lives.

But it changed everything.

Cordy came three weeks later, and she told me. All the things I already knew. How Angel went to Sunnydale. How he visited my grave. How it finally became too much and how Cordy found nothing but his ashes one night. They didn't remove them from the ground, thinking that he was finally where he belonged.

*

I still come to the grave each night after patrol. I still haven't told anyone what I do. They don't need to know, and I don't even want them to. They expect me to go on with my life. And I will. I'm good at keeping up appearances. I had a lot of practice.

But each night I'm sitting here.

It's the only place that feels like home.

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