Chapter 32 – All Aboard


Spike stayed where he was, listening to the sound of Buffy’s car driving away, carrying her further away from him. Unable to move, he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing and fighting everything inside of him to not run after her, begging her forgiveness.

“Strong man,” Ethan said, stepping into the room when the sounds of the car faded into the distance. “Letting a woman like that go.”

Turning toward the other man, Spike glowered at him. “Thought you didn’t like her, mate,” he replied, arching an eyebrow in response.

“Regardless of my personal feelings for her, I’ve seen who she truly is.”

“And who’s that?” Spike asked irritably.

“A woman in love,” he replied plainly, seeing Spike’s shoulders tense in response. “One who, coincidentally, isn’t after your money or what you can bring to her. Rarity in this town. Like I said- strong man to let her go.”

Avoiding Ethan’s gaze, Spike looked at the floor, taking a few deep breaths. “I could never make her happy,” he said, almost to himself.

“Guess we’ll never know,” Ethan replied, turning and walking out of the room.

* * * * *

Buffy walked into her house feeling numb. Her eyes were puffy and swollen from crying on the way home, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and wile away the hours until the pain receded.

Making it halfway up the stairs, she stopped when the shrill sound of the phone ringing filled the house. Briefly closing her eyes, she turned and walked back downstairs, grabbing the closest phone.

“Hello?”

“Miss Summers.”

Hearing the sound of the familiar accent, Buffy stiffened slightly, instinctively looking around her house in a protective maneuver.

“What do you want, Ethan?” she asked, her voice turning hard and cold in a matter of seconds.

“Tell Rupert that Spike will take the deal.”

Feeling the air leaving her lungs, Buffy grabbed the railing of the stairs, slowly lowering herself to one of the bottom steps. “He agreed?” she asked quietly.

“No,” Ethan replied. “I’m authorizing it. Head of security and all, and no one needs more security in this matter than William Reed. Tell Giles that I will sign any papers he needs as long as he has some form of back-up tomorrow night.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Buffy asked, knowing that Giles had never mentioned anything.

“Spike is going after Angelus. Alone.”

“Oh, God,” she murmured, feeling her stomach churn violently. “When?” she asked, running a hand through her hair.

“Twenty-four hours and change.”

“Ethan, if you want me to help him, I need an exact time and location,” she said, gritting her teeth in frustration.

“Two o’clock in the morning,” he replied. “An old warehouse in downtown Los Angeles… it belongs to Angelus, and he and Hamilton have plans to move some of the ‘merchandise’ that is located inside without being detected.”

“Just O’Neill and Hamilton?” Buffy asked, fisting the hand in her hair as her nerves continued to wreak havoc.

“The only ones who have been confirmed to me,” Ethan replied.

“How do you know this?”

“I have a contact… knows Angelus.”

“Who?” she asked, waiting impatiently for his answer. “Ethan, my phone is secure- it was checked recently… who?”

“Gunn.”

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Buffy nodded to herself. “I need to know how to get there.”

* * * * *

“And you’re sure he said yes?” Giles asked, seeing Buffy shift uncomfortably in the seat next to him as they drove toward downtown L.A.

“Yep, Spike’s onboard- full force,” she lied, swallowing hard as she thought about leaving him the night before.

“And he knows about the meeting tonight?” Giles asked.

“He… He should,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t get in touch with him today.”

‘Another somewhat harmless white lie… I hope.’

“Buffy-”

“Giles, I know that you want something on paper. I know that you want everything to run smoothly. I know all of this, but please trust me- if Spike is able to get to Angelus before we do, everything will be taken care of.”

“I would feel more comfortable about this if you’d tell me the source of your information.”

“Then he wouldn’t be a source,” Buffy replied, looking out the window.

“So, the source is a ‘he’,” Giles said, seemingly proud of himself.

“Very good, Giles,” Buffy said with a smile. “You’ve just narrowed down my informant to roughly half of the world’s population.”

“It’s important that I know,” he said, ignoring her teasing.

“And I know you, Giles. If I tell you this before the fact, then there won’t be an after the fact.”

“Was that English?”

“No, it was American,” she said sarcastically, knowing that she couldn’t distract him that easily.

“I’m serious, Buffy, I want to know who it is. What if he’s a double agent?”

“Okay, but if I tell you this, I want you to promise that you won’t get all paternally father-like and Gilesy, okay?”

Glancing over at her, Giles heaved a deep sigh before nodding. “You have my word.”

“It’s Ethan Rayne.”

“What?!”

“You promised,” she reminded him.

“Buffy-”

“Giles, Ethan said he would handle everything. Head of security, remember?”

“I know who he is, Buffy.”

“He said that he would handle the paperwork, etcetera and so on. I think he’s worried about Spike.”

“He has practically raised him,” Giles muttered, almost to himself, seeing the woman next to him turn toward him in surprise.

“He has?”

“Well, no, not really,” Giles replied, not wanting to offer more information than that, but knowing Buffy wouldn’t allow him to ignore it. “He’s… influenced Spike.”

‘Molded him into who he wanted him to be.’ Buffy frowned at the thought.

“Ethan said Spike will go in alone. No outside help of any kind or it could get more dangerous,” she said, deciding it was time to change the subject. “You’ll be outside with the cavalry-”

“As will you,” Giles reminded her.

“Oh… right,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Buffy…”

Hearing the warning note in Giles’ voice, Buffy glanced at her boss, offering him a sheepish smile.

“You are not to go in that building for any reason, do you understand?”

“You know I can’t just sit outside, Giles,” she said, letting him hear the truth behind her words.

“That’s an order, Agent,” he replied, his voice getting colder.

“This is personal,” she said, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Just because Spike-”

“Not Spike,” she said, shaking her head. “Spike’s only a small part of it. Angelus,” she continued, clarifying it for the older man. “He took something from me, Giles. Something I can never get back.”

“We’re not in the revenge business, Buffy.”

“Well, maybe we should be!” she cried, her nerves setting her on edge. “He almost killed me. He killed my child-”

“We can’t just-”

“You’re right,” she said with a nod. “We can’t. But I’m not sitting outside while Spike might need some help. I’m not letting Angelus get away.”

Hearing the resolve in her voice, Giles sighed. “We’ll work something out when we get there,” he said, staring at the endless road that was stretched in front of them.

Smiling softly, Buffy’s shoulders relaxed as she nodded. “Thank you.”


 

Chapter 33 – Date With Death


Slowly making her way across the catwalk to the other side of the warehouse, Buffy kept a close eye on all of the available exits. Every muscle was tensed and on edge as she prepared for anything, part of her expecting Angel to step in front of her, the other part anticipating it to be Spike.

Knowing that neither man was expecting her to be there, she tried not to think about how that doubled the risk for her.

“Anything?” she asked into her radio.

“Nothing on this end.”

“I don’t know where he is, Giles,” Buffy said, looking around, hating that her nerves were getting the best of her.

“You still have a few minutes, Buffy. And you can always back out-”

“Not backing out of this. Just make sure that we’re covered outside.”

“You are. And Buffy… be careful,” he warned.

Not bothering to respond, Buffy looked at her watch.

01:47:00

Thirteen minutes and counting.

She hated this.

She hated everything about it, and as she watched the seconds tick away, she could feel her anxiety mounting.

A few minutes before two o’clock, Buffy heard the distinctive squeak of the doors opening. Crouching behind a large crate in the corner of the upper level, she watched as Angelus and Hamilton walked into the area.

Frowning when she saw them, Buffy scanned the area, surprised that Spike wasn’t already in the building, waiting for a surprise attack. Shaking off her feelings and emotions, she turned back to the man who was obviously in charge. The man she had last seen limping away from her after the damage she had caused him. Smiling at that part of the memory, Buffy quietly stood, staying close to the wall as she made her way toward the ladder that was furthest away from the three men.

Slowly descending, Buffy froze when she heard the sound of the doors reopening. Looking around, she silently dropped the remaining feet, crouching low when she saw Spike walk in, seemingly calm, even as Hamilton pulled his gun on him.

‘Is he insane?’ she thought, watching Spike walk into the warehouse, seemingly without a care in the world.

“What’s the matter, Angel?” he asked with a smile. “Not happy to see me?”

“On the contrary,” Angelus replied with a smile. “I didn’t think you’d make it so easy to kill you. Marcus,” he said, turning toward the man next to him.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she Hamilton extract a second gun from his waistband, aiming them both at Spike. Acting purely on instinct, Buffy fired her gun, seeing Hamilton double over when the bullet entered his hip.

Spike’s eyes briefly darted over to where she was before closing the distance between himself and Angel, slamming his fist into the other man’s face.

“What’s the matter, Willie? Did I take a plaything of yours?” Angelus taunted, retaliating with an uppercut to the jaw as he spit blood out on the floor.

“You couldn’t take anything from me, even if you wanted to,” Spike growled, smashing another punch into his nose. “But you did hurt someone I care about,” he said, kicking the other man in the gut. “And for that…” punch “…you’re gonna suffer.”

Hitting him again, Spike was surprised that O’Neill wasn’t fighting back as strongly as he knew he could. The thought was formed when he felt a crack on the back of his head. Falling to the floor, he turned to see Hamilton, blood gushing from his hip, spilling onto the Armani suit. Reflexively pulling his gun, Spike emptied a round into Hamilton’s chest, aiming a well-placed kick to Angelus’ knee at the same time, dropping the other man to the floor.

Jumping up as Hamilton hit the ground, Spike saw the murderous look in O’Neill’s eyes as he pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at Spike. Hearing the shot ring out as a bullet sliced through the air, Spike’s eyes widened when Angelus’ arm snapped over with the momentum of the bullet. Seeing that it was only a graze on his arm, Spike slammed his fist into the other man’s face before jumping up and running to the back of the building.

Ducking behind a pile of crates, he crouched low to avoid retaliation by Angel as the bullets sliced through the air.

Buffy kept a close watch on him as she shrank back into the shadows. Moving farther away, she pressed a hand to her earpiece, hearing Giles’ voice.

“Buffy? Are you alright? Buffy!”

“I’m here,” he said, her voice quiet in spite of the gunfire.

“What’s happening?”

“Everything… it’s under control- just keep an eye on everything out there. Do not come in! Keep Angelus from getting out!”

Raising up slightly, Buffy fired once more, narrowly missing Angel’s arm, never realizing that she was drawing his fire to her, leaving Spike with an open opportunity to run past the gap in the crates and drop down next to her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Spike growled, ducking low when another bullet whizzed by his head, seeing the indignant expression on her face.

“Saving your ass- it’s what I do.”

Glowering at her for a moment, Spike quickly began returning fire.

“Get out of here!” he yelled, his eyes widening when she stood and took aim at Angel, hitting him in the collarbone.

Spike watched in appreciation as she easily slipped around the warehouse, approaching Angelus in his blind spot.

“Freeze!” she yelled, causing Angel’s gaze to dart over to her, giving Spike enough time to take aim at him. “You’re under arrest,” she continued, narrowing her eyes at the sadistic smile he gave her.

Buffy frowned when she didn’t see any blood pouring from where the wound should have been in his chest. ‘Damn it, should have known he’d come prepared,’ she thought, vaguely seeing the extra bulk of the bullet proof vest beneath his clothes.

“Look who finally grew a pair,” Angelus said, tilting his head slightly as Buffy slowly walked toward Spike, feeling more comfortable with strength in numbers.

“Never needed to,” she replied, arching an eyebrow in his direction. “I kicked your ass once- I could do it again.”

Buffy could practically hear Spike smiling beside her.

“Drop the gun,” she said calmly, moving her hand to her radio to call Giles for backup, her finger tightening on the trigger, aiming at his head, when Angel didn’t listen to her. “Last chance, O’Neill,” she said, gritting her teeth when he smiled at her.

“Last chance, huh?” he said, tilting his head to look at her.

Instinct kicked in when she saw Angelus aim at Spike- shoving him out of the way a split-second before the other man pulled the trigger.

The feeling of the bullet slicing through her caused Buffy’s body to jerk back, reflexively trying to get away from the pain.

Gasping in agony as she fell to the floor, Buffy was vaguely aware of the sound of more gunshots but couldn’t focus on them as she tried to breathe.

Seeing Angelus running for the back of the warehouse, Spike made a move to go after him, hoping that he’d hit him where he wasn’t covered with the armor at least once. Turning to look for Buffy, his eyes widened when he saw her lying on the floor, a pool of blood slowly spreading beneath her. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut- he vaguely saw a tear trailing down her cheek.

Nearly falling over himself as he ran toward her, he dropped to his knees next to her. Letting his gun fall to the floor, Spike immediately ripped off his shirt and pressed it to the gushing wound in her shoulder.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, his jaw clenching as he tried to fight the tears in his eyes when she unconsciously arched her back off the floor, fighting off the pain. “It’s okay… you’ll be fine. Stay with me, Buffy.”

Running one hand through her hair as the other put pressure on her shoulder, he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the sirens outside of the building. He never thought he’d be so grateful for the cops showing up.

“Buffy?”

Turning at the sound of Rupert Giles’ voice, Spike couldn’t say anything as the older man ran over to kneel next to them. Quickly calling the EMTs, he gave them their location before turning to Spike.

“What happened?”

“Angelus,” Spike replied, never taking his eyes off of Buffy.

“I know that much,” Giles snapped.

“Well, do you have him?” Spike retaliated, gritting his teeth before focusing on the woman in his arms.

“We’re working on it.”

Looking at Giles in disbelief for a moment, Spike pulled Buffy closer when he heard her moan softly. “You’ll be okay, love,” he whispered, hoping that she knew he was there as he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Can’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Chapter 34 – Moment of Truth


Buffy’s eyes squeezed together more firmly as she slowly became aware of the pain that was radiating through her shoulder. Hearing the distant beep of hospital equipment and the muffled sound of activity on the other side of the door, she attempted to gather the courage to open her eyes.

Knowing that everything would come back to her with perfect clarity when she did so, Buffy slowly blinked, taking in the hospital room. A distinct feeling of déjà vu when she saw Giles sitting beside her, noticing her at the same moment that she noticed him.

“Buffy,” he said in a relieved voice. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” she said dryly, wincing as she tried to shift her shoulder. “Not the pleasure cruise you would expect.”

Smiling slightly, Giles took a deep breath, obviously trying to come to terms with the fact that she was okay.

“Here’s a novel idea,” Buffy said, breathing a little heavier to attempt to alleviate that shooting pains that ran through her arm and chest. “How about I actually complete a mission and don’t have to check into a hospital.”

Smiling as the fighter in her seemed to prevail, Giles nodded. “Let’s hope this is the last time.”

“Angelus is still out there, isn’t he?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject as every memory seemed to slam into her at the same time.

“He is,” Giles confirmed, seeing her jaw tighten in response.

“Damn it,” she muttered, restlessly hitting the mattress, wincing when the motion immediately jarred her injured shoulder. Looking over at Giles, her expression grew even more solemn. “And Spike?”

“Was the first to get to you,” Giles admitted grudgingly.

“No… I figured that… where is he now?”

* * * * *

Pacing around the waiting room of the hospital, Spike anxiously tapped the box of cigarettes against his open palm, not willing to leave the room in case there was any news on Buffy’s condition.

Rupert’s words still haunting him with every step he took.

“You are to stay here. If she wants to see you, I’ll let you know, but I’m not going to run the risk of you upsetting her when she wakes up.”

He knew that he should have left. Should have walked right out of the hospital the second that he knew Buffy would be okay and never look back. But Rupert’s voice wasn’t the only thing that haunted him.

The image of his red shirt stained a darker crimson as Buffy’s blood seeped into the fabric was enough to tie his stomach into knots all over again.

Running a hand through his hair as he exhaled loudly, Spike irritably continued his pacing, never noticed when Giles walked into the room.

“She’s asking for you.”

The cold tone of voice immediately drew Spike’s attention to him. His eyes widened when he realized that he would actually get to see her – and that it was Buffy who wanted him in her room.

Not bothering to respond, Spike nodded, wordlessly walking past the older man and down the overly bright and sterile hallway. Soundlessly slipping into her room and shutting the door behind him, Spike became transfixed as he watched Buffy. Her eyes were unfocused as she looked at the crystal vase that was overflowing with vibrant red roses.

“They’re beautiful,” she said quietly, never turning to face him, instinctively knowing who was in her room.

“You like them?” Spike asked, taking a small step forward in an effort to bridge the invisible gap between them.

“As much as I liked the last vase you sent,” she said quietly, turning toward him- finally raising her eyes to his. “That was you… right?”

“It was,” he said, nodding slightly. Spike gave her a hesitant smile, finally relaxing when she reached for him. Closing the distance between them, he carefully took her hand in his, eyeing the sling that adorned her other arm, encasing her arm and keeping her shoulder as immobile as possible.

“What were you doing there, Buffy?” he asked, staring into her eyes as she gave him a weak smile.

“Saving your ass, remember? It’s what I do,” she replied lightly.

“I’m serious,” Spike said, his brow furrowing as he watched her smile fade away.

“I was being serious,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes as he registered what she’d said.

Offering her a slight smile, Spike hesitantly pressed a kiss to her forehead, seeing Buffy look up at him in shock. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” she asked, her voice taking on a slightly breathless quality as she stared into his eyes.

“For loving me that much,” he replied, tilting his head slightly as he brushed the hair away from her cheeks, letting his fingertips trail along her skin for the briefest of seconds.

“Who said anything about love?” she asked, guarding her expression against him as his movements paused.

“Don’t turn into the coy, shy woman now, Buffy,” he said in a teasing voice. “It doesn’t become you.”

“It was never me,” she whispered, almost to herself. “You never knew me.”

“You don’t believe that,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Or I wouldn’t be standing here right now… or maybe that’s what you want.”

Unable to say anything, Buffy continued to stare at the dingy blanket that covered her lower body, avoiding Spike’s strong gaze.

Misreading her reaction, Spike slowly pulled away from her, taking a step back. “Nice knowing you, Summers,” he said in a low voice that held no malice toward her before turning away from her.

“Stop right there,” Buffy said as he reached for the doorknob.

“I should leave,” he muttered, twisting the knob.

“You owe me,” she replied, her voice coming out stronger than she expected.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Spike took a deep breath, seeing the determination in her eyes as she moved to sit up, flinching from the obvious pain that spread through her when she slightly moved her shoulder. “I shouldn’t be here, Buffy,” he said after a moment, looking at the floor.

“I took a bullet for you,” she said, her soft words practically cutting into him. “I almost died for you,” she continued, never taking her gaze away from him. “You owe me ten minutes.”

Taking a deep breath as he looked at the ceiling, Spike gritted his teeth. “Bollocks,” he muttered to himself, knowing what this was going to boil down to. “Moment of truth, is it?”

“I think I deserve that much,” Buffy replied, tightening her lips when he looked at her.

“You’re a smart girl,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure you’ve figured out a lot of it.”

“That Ethan and Giles were a little chummier than expected? That Giles seems to have some kind of trust in you, even if he buries it beneath the hate? That you seem to know an awful lot about both sides of the field?” she continued, tilting her head to study him. “There’s a back-story to you, William Reed, and I intend to find that out. No more of this good guy/bad guy crap. I want the truth. I think I’ve earned it. Fill in the blanks.”

Falling into the chair next to the bed, Spike wearily ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily.

Just when Buffy was about to question him again, he spoke.

“I was a stupid kid,” he muttered, never tearing his gaze away from the floor. “A right prat. Always had everything I ever wanted- never questioned it. Never questioned that I could get it,” he added with a dry laugh. “And when asking became too easy, stealing gave me a rush. Anything I could get away with- small stuff from drugstores, escalating to valuable paintings and antiques.”

“You were a thief from the get-go,” Buffy said, seeing his eyes finally raise to hers.

“Up until my early twenties,” he said with a nod.

“What?” she asked in surprise.

“I got caught. Or… noticed.”

“Noticed?” Buffy repeated in confusion.

“An FBI Agent,” he continued, leaning back in the chair to look at her. “Saw the potential in me.”

“You were an agent?” Buffy murmured, feeling short of breath.

Spike continued to look at her, not needing to confirm anything.

“W-what…? What happened?” she finally asked, her voice choking around the words.

“Got bored,” Spike replied with a shrug.

“So… you quit the honest job to become a fulltime art thief?” she asked in confusion, seeing the slight smile on his face.

“Something like that, yeah. You see, I picked up a lot of tricks from the few years I was in the Bureau. In time, I surpassed my mentor and felt I needed a new challenge. He was inclined to agree.”

“Your mentor…? Ethan,” Buffy whispered, her eyes widening in understanding, remembering Giles words from only hours earlier.

“He’s… influenced Spike.”

“Left the nine-to-five gig in pursuit of better things. Of course, the official word was that I put in for early retirement. It was believable- I was always living off of the family money and the job was never anything more than a hobby. I’d learned enough to become more efficient in my chosen profession. Ethan somehow knew what I was up to. Wanted a taste of the dark side and followed me.”

“This isn’t Star Wars,” Buffy said, her brows furrowing as she leaned more heavily against the pillows behind her.

“There’s a dark path in every form of life, Buffy. It’s up to you whether you take it or not,” Spike finished in a sharp whisper. “I trust that you can fill in the blanks from there.”

“You’ve said enough,” she replied, taking a deep breath. “And that’s why you didn’t want to take Giles’ deal when I came to you? Why you said you’d lose everything?”

“If I were to work with the Feds, the contacts I’ve made over the last few years would think that I was a double agent. So, yeah, I would have lost everything, except material possessions.”

“And the recognition means more to you than anything,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment before turning to look at him with a blank expression. “More than me.”

“It’s not that easy, love.”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly that easy, Mr. Reed,” she countered, taking a deep breath to control her anger before cocking her head to the side. “Or do you prefer Agent Reed? You seemed to enjoy calling me that when you confronted me. Seems only fitting that the tables have turned.”

“Don’t do this, pet.”

“You selfish bastard.”

“Buffy-”

“You jump all over me for the fact that I was an agent and yet you knew exactly what I was going through! You knew! You are such a hypocrite,” she spat out, growing more frustrated as the calm mask stayed firmly in place. “You put me through hell. You’ve indirectly put me in the hospital twice. You’ve blown my cover on a major case and you’re still standing there without a care in the world.”

“It’s not-”

“-like that?” Buffy filled in, clenching her jaw. “It never is, is it, Spike? Because that’s the way of the world. Everything is all well and fine until you get bitten in the ass and then, guess what? It’s time for the blame game.”

Closing her eyes, Buffy battled the tears in her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Hearing Spike move to the door, her shoulders shook slightly while she repressed her sobs, ignoring the pains that shot up and down her arm as a result. “What was real?” she whispered as he walked away from her, repeating the question he had asked her so long ago.

Opening the door, Spike glanced over his shoulder, seeing her looking so frail and broken on the bed, wanting nothing more than to reach out to her. “You and me,” he replied, clenching his jaw to restrain his own tears before walking out the door. “Always you and me.”

Chapter 35 – Sweet Agony


‘How did I get here?’ Buffy asked herself, pressing her forehead against the door in front of her. ‘Why did it have to be me?’

Standing up a little straighter, she stared unseeingly at Spike’s house. She had no idea what had led to this moment. One moment she was in the hospital and the next, she was staring at his front door. Of course, there had been the moment when Giles had told her that the only way she could come back to work was if she told Spike that he had been exonerated.

She had no idea why he had chosen her. She had no idea why she had to do this in person when a phone call would have completed her job. And she really had no idea why she’d spent nearly two hours trying to decide what to wear.

Now, dressed in a pale pink sundress with a gauzy white sweater, Buffy adjusted the sling around her shoulder, clearing her throat before knocking on the door. It was a planned move. If someone was close enough to hear her, they would answer- otherwise she could leave and pretend like she’d never been there.

Nearly groaning when the door opened, Buffy looked up to see Ethan Rayne staring back at her.

“I need to speak to Mr. Reed,” she said, deciding that pointless formalities would be lost on both of them.

“He’s unavailable at the moment.”

Pushing open the door with a heavy sigh, Buffy walked into the mansion. “I know he probably told you to say that if and when I decided to show up, but this will just take a few minutes.”

“He told me no such thing,” Ethan replied, glancing around the foyer. “It’s a simple fact. Spike is indisposed at the moment.”

“Believe me, no one wants to believe this crap that you’re trying to pull with me more than I do. I wish for nothing other than to turn around and walk away from here without ever looking back, but I don’t have time for this,” Buffy said, walking toward the back of the house.

“Miss Summers-”

“Ethan, I’ll be out of here before you know it,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Trust me,” she muttered to herself.

Pushing open the door to the dining room, wanting to take a shortcut to his office, Buffy froze when she saw Spike sitting at the head of the table. Feeling her throat close up and her heart pounding, she opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to choke out any words.

Seeing the petite blonde sitting next to him, noticing the passing physical resemblance to herself, Buffy tried to think of something to say.

“Buffy?”

Her name was spoken in surprise as Spike stood up from his seat.

“What are you doing here, love?”

Tearing her gaze away from the woman who was obviously his date, Buffy briefly tightened her lips, trying to control her emotions. “I had some news for you. Business,” she clarified.

“Right,” he muttered, looking at the floor, trying to think of something to diffuse the uncomfortable situation. “Uh… Buffy Summers, meet Darla Masterson.”

Nodding at the woman, Buffy turned and left the room, intent on telling Ethan that he could pass on her news to Spike, wanting nothing more than to get out of the house. Quickly walking toward the front of the house, she gasped when she felt her uninjured arm grabbed in a harsh grip before she was dragged into the living room.

“Buffy, that… I… It wasn’t…”

“You don’t owe me any explanations,” she said, taking a deep breath as she stared at the floor.

“I know, I just… what are you doing here?”

“Two reasons,” she murmured, her chin quivering when Spike hooked his finger beneath it and guided her gaze back to his.

“And they are?” he asked gently.

“I owe you an apology,” she said, nearly choking on the words. It wasn’t easy for her to admit when she was wrong, but he deserved that much- even in light of recent developments. “In the hospital… I never really stopped to think about anything. Yes, you hid a lot of things from me, but I did the same to you and I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Looking at the floor with a guilty expression on his face, Spike nodded before forcing himself to look into her eyes again. “And the other?”

“You’re exonerated,” she said, looking anywhere but at him. “Seems that saving the life of an agent put you on the Bureau’s good side.”

“Saving your…? I didn’t save you, Buffy, you saved me.”

Finally looking up into his eyes, Buffy tried to disguise the pain she was feeling, knowing that Spike wouldn’t be fooled. “That’s not the way I remember it,” she said quietly.

“Buffy, I-”

“You tried to get me out of the way, Mr. Reed,” she said, her face nothing but a blank expression. “When you couldn’t get me to safety, you took care of me until the paramedics arrived. That’s the way I remember it.”

“That’s not what…” Trailing off when he realized what Buffy was doing, Spike’s eyes widened in shock. “You lied to them?”

“I told them a version of the truth.”

“That a fact?” Spike replied, tilting his head to study her.

“A version that you wouldn’t have hesitated to make a reality,” she said, swallowing hard when he narrowed his eyes on her.

“You sure about that?”

Looking into his eyes for a moment, she slowly nodded. “I am.”

“Nice to know one of us is,” he muttered, taking a deep breath.

“I should go,” she murmured after a moment, walking toward the door.

“Buffy, wait!”

Stopping but refusing to turn toward him, Buffy closed her eyes, trying to bite back the pain that was searing through her heart. “What?” she asked, her eyes widening when Spike grabbed her and spun her around to face him.

“Do you still love me?”

Buffy’s eyes widened in disbelief. As if she was about to bare her soul when he had a date in the next room? “No,” she said in a voice that held more conviction than she felt. “I don’t know if I ever did.”

“That’s a lie,” he said in a low voice, his eyes boring into hers. “You know it.”

Looking down at the floor, Buffy took a deep breath before turning toward the door, gasping when she felt her Spike grab her arms and spin her around, slamming her into the wall in the process and jarring her shoulder until a sharp pain was coursing through her body.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not walking away from this,” he said in a low voice.

“No,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I think we both walked away about the same time.” Buffy could feel her heart pounding as Spike closed the distance between them until his lips were nearly touching hers.

“I wasn’t the one who started this,” he said, his voice taking on a silky tone. “You initiated everything, Buffy. From the start of the relationship to how far it went… it was always you.”

“It was you who made me walk away,” Buffy countered, not backing down as he continued to stare at her.

“I did,” he admitted with a slight nod. “But it didn’t change how I felt about you.”

Knowing that he was waiting for her to make the first move, Buffy’s chin trembled as she moved closer to him, hesitantly brushing her lips against his. Feeling his hands reach up to cup her face, a silent sob shook her body as she held onto him.

“Spike?”

Breaking away at the sound of the voice, Buffy turned away when Darla entered the room.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Opening his mouth to respond, his eyes widened when Buffy pushed past him and left the room. “I’ll be right there,” he said, waving her back into the dining room before chasing after Buffy.

Catching her before she could reach the door, Spike caught her hand, suddenly grateful that she didn’t have use of her other arm at the moment when she swung around to face him, knowing that he otherwise would have had a bloody nose at that moment.

“She’s a business contact, that’s all,” he said, knowing he would only get one explanation for this and he better make it good and let her know that he wasn’t lying. “My associates just thought it would be a good idea to get on better terms with her.”

“Yeah, a date in your house with your bed one floor away is a good way to better the terms,” Buffy snapped, turning to open the front door, gritting her teeth when Spike slammed his hand against the surface, keeping her in the house.

“That’s not what’s happening here.”

“No?” Buffy asked, spinning around to face him. “So you’re not on a dinner date with a woman who could prove to be a valuable commodity for your next job?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Staring at her for a moment, Spike briefly closed his eyes. “I can understand the jealousy-”

“I’m not jealous!”

“-but besides the fact that she’s a woman, what’s the problem?” he continued as if he’d never heard her.

Looking at the sling on her arm, Buffy slowly directed her gaze back to Spike. “After everything I’ve gone through for you,” she said, breathing deeply. “After everything I… this is how you show your gratitude?”

“Buffy… what?”

“You’ve been exonerated from everything you ever did,” she said, trying to make him understand. “You have a fresh slate… and you’re still not willing to use it. I have a bullet wound in my arm, a murderer who wouldn’t mind making me his next victim - after a very long torture session, I’m sure - and you still… you still don’t get it,” she whispered, hiding the tears in her eyes as she looked at the floor.

“I told you-”

“You didn’t want to work with the FBI,” she said, pushing the tears away as her anger came to the forefront. “Well, guess what? You didn’t. You helped an agent and because of that, the Bureau was grateful… I was grateful.” Tears filled her eyes as she continued to stare at him. “I don’t know you,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t think I ever did.”

Seeing her turn away from him, Spike felt panicked as he moved to grab her again. “Don’t leave it like this, Buffy, please. We can-”

“Spike.”

“What is it?” he growled, turning to face Ethan.

“I have some news that is rather urgent.”

Feeling Buffy tense and pull away from him, Spike turned back to her, silently pleading that she stay for a few more minutes, even as she opened the door.

“Better see to your business,” she said in a cold voice. “Duty calls.”

Feeling a sense of loss that he was becoming all too familiar with, Spike listened to the sound of her car starting a moment later, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before turning to face Ethan. “This better be good.”

“It is,” the other man said, his tone of voice letting him know just how serious the situation was. “I’ve just gotten word that someone has arrived in town for yet another appearance.”

Spike’s eyes darkened as he clenched his fists. “Angelus.”

Chapter 36 – Duty Calls


Gingerly testing her shoulder, Buffy threw the sling into a corner of her bedroom, hating the restraining piece of cloth more with each passing day. She hated feeling helpless with the sling hindering her movements. The pain that still resided from the gunshot wound left her with a constant reminder- don’t get too close.

Spike’s words from the day before served as a reminder to her as well. They haunted her.

“I wasn’t the one who started this. You initiated everything, Buffy. From the start of the relationship to how far it went… it was always you.”

He had been right. She was the one who asked him to take her to bed. She was the one who went after him and lost sight of her goal. She fell in love.

Determined to get back to the way she used to be – needing the hard edge she once had – Buffy knew she had to get back to basics. Knowing what that entailed, she walked through her room, idly picking up the few possessions that were sitting out before she began searching through the drawers of her dresser. Pulling out a pair of running pants and a sports bra, she stopped when she saw an envelope at the bottom of the drawer.

Buffy frowned as she opened it, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the pictures inside. Flipping through them, her chin trembled, seeing candid shots of her and Spike together. None of them were posed, but the way they were standing obviously showed their love for each other.

Staring at one in particular, Buffy studied it for a long moment. She knew these were surveillance photos, but she couldn’t bring herself to be mad about it. The image that was captured seemed to silently describe who they really were. Taken the night of one of his dinner parties, Spike’s arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, his head bent toward her as Buffy whispered something into his ear. Both were smiling, lost in each other.

The picture seemed to encapsulate one side of their relationship that had been so real.

Buffy didn’t have to wonder how the pictures had gotten there. She knew Spike had left them at some point. She wasn’t sure if he had placed them there before or after they went their separate ways, but it didn’t seem important. He’d left her with something more tangible than the memories she carried with her and to some small extent, she was grateful.

Clearing her throat to try and fight back her emotions, she walked to her closet, shoving the pictures in a bag on the floor before turning and walking out of the room. Moving to the bedroom at the back of the house that she had long ago converted into a gym, Buffy quickly changed into the pants and sports bra, wanting to work off some tension.

Turning on the stereo, Buffy stepped onto the treadmill, starting with a warm-up jog. Working her way up to a run, she winced as the jarring movements of her running continuously shifted her shoulder a bit. Forcing herself to make it through the pain, Buffy breathed heavily as she continued running.

Hearing the sound of the phone ringing, Buffy slowed down to a walk before hopping off of the machine. Grabbing the cordless extension in the room, she tried to regulate her breathing before answering.

“Buffy?”

“Yeah, Giles?” she asked, picking up her water bottle and taking a long drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just exercising,” she said, feeling her heart rate returning to normal.

“You need to-”

“No fatherly lectures, please, Giles,” she said, cutting him off as she smiled. “I’m just doing a little bit of running.”

“It’s only been a little over a week- you need to take it easy,” he said, clearly ignoring her.

Looking at the ace bandage that was tightly wrapped around her shoulder, puffed out slightly from the thick bandage that covered her wound beneath it, Buffy flexed it slightly, cringing at the pain. “I’ll be okay,” she said after a moment. “No need to worry.”

“Actually… there’s a very pressing reason to worry.”

“Uh oh,” Buffy muttered, walking over to one of the machines in the room and sitting down. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“I sincerely doubt it,” he replied.

“Okay… hit me. What’s the next big apocalypse?” she joked, her smile fading when Giles didn’t answer right away. “Giles? You might as well tell me- the silent treatment isn’t helping here.”

“O’Neill is in town.”

“Oh, fun!” Buffy said with fake enthusiasm as her head fell forward into the palm of her hand. “Where is he?” she asked, her voice taking on a much graver tone.

“We’re looking for him.”

“You’re…? Then how do you know he’s even in town?” she asked in confusion. “I mean, if you haven’t see him…”

“We were tipped off,” Giles answered.

“And by the tone of your voice, you know the source.”

“I do.”

“Giles, don’t play this game with me. If Angelus is in town, I need to know everything. I want every advantage I can have.”

“Spike called me.”

Waiting for more to be said, Buffy bit her lip when it was obvious that Giles wouldn’t be offering any other information.

“I need to go,” she whispered in a choked voice.

“Buffy-”

Hanging up the phone before Giles could say anything else, Buffy quickly dialed the familiar number with trembling hands. Closing her eyes when she heard Ethan’s voice, Buffy tried to control her breathing. “Ethan, I need to talk to Spike.”

“Miss Summers-”

“And don’t give me any of your bullshit!” she cried, her nerves on edge as she stood up and walked toward one of the windows in the room, looking out at the setting sun. “Get him on the damn phone.”

Listening to the sound Ethan walking through the house, Buffy could barely make out the muffled voices before the familiar voice spoke to her.

“Buffy?”

“Thanks for telling me,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I really appreciate the warning.”

Spike sighed. “Giles called you?”

“Yeah. Apparently my boss cares more about my well-being than the man who…” Trailing off in a choked voice, Buffy took a deep breath, needing to pull herself together. “You know what? Never mind.”

Hanging up the phone, she slowly walked through the room, sitting down on a nearby bench-seat. “Get it together,” she muttered, jumping when the phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, Buffy was tempted to let it ring.

‘Let him stress out for awhile,’ she thought, sighing after a moment before answering the phone.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Spike said, sounding surprisingly genuine. “I should have told you, I just didn’t want to worry you if you didn’t need to know.”

“Yeah, because if Angelus was trying to kill me in my sleep, when I didn’t know he was in town, my stress factor would be way down,” she said sarcastically.

“I was doing what I thought was best.”

“Well, let me let you in on a little secret- you don’t know what’s best for me. You never did.”

Buffy frowned when Spike laughed.

“Nice to know you believe that, love.”

“I’m serious, Spike,” she said with an edge to her tone.

“Say it like you mean it,” he replied in a teasing voice.

“Stop it,” Buffy said, nearly hitting the wall in frustration. “Just stop it.”

Spike sighed heavily. Buffy could practically see him gritting his teeth and looking at the ceiling. Shaking her head to clear it of the disturbing thoughts, she tried to forget that she knew him so well.

“I miss you,” he said quietly, causing Buffy’s breath to catch in her throat at the soft admission.

“No, you don’t,” she said in a voice that surprised even her. “Stop doing this.”

“Doing what?” he asked in exasperation.

“This hot and cold routine that you’ve got going on! I hate it, Spike. You can’t make a decision and stick with it. You could have had me and you threw that chance away… more than once. Now that… I’m guessing you’re bored again, you want to play this game and…”

“I’m not the only one who’s doing this, Buffy,” he said quietly.

Running a hand over her face, she sighed in soft acceptance. “You’re right,” she whispered with a sigh. “You’re right,” she repeated with more conviction. “And… and I just can’t take it anymore.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice taking on a nervous quality.

“This is too hard, Spike,” she whispered, fighting the tears in her eyes. “We need to stop… whatever this is.”

“Buffy-”

“I just can’t-”

“Well… isn’t that sweet.”

Buffy felt her blood run cold at the sound of the voice behind her. Feeling short of breath, she turned around, her jaw tightening when she saw the brunette standing in the doorway.

“Buffy? Buffy! Who’s there?”

Unable to answer Spike, she maintained eye contact with the man, frozen in place.

“Hello, lover.”

 

Chapter 37 – Conviction


“Hang up the phone, Buffy,” Angelus said, slowly approaching her.

“Buffy-”

“Spike,” she murmured, cutting off whatever he was about to say. “I love you.”

“No! Don’t you say it like that… Buffy!”

Clicking off the phone, she held it firmly in her hand, watching Angelus carefully as he continued to advance on her. “Took you long enough,” she said, keeping an indifferent look on her face. “Want to catch the sights while you were in town?”

“Just thought I’d let you stew in your own nerves for a while.”

“Nerves?” Buffy replied with an easy smile. “I don’t see how I can be nervous about kicking your ass again.”

Angelus’ expression darkened as his breathing quickened. “You weren’t exactly looking so hot yourself, princess,” he said before looking her up and down with an appraising eye. “Although, now is a different story,” he said, his eyes lingering on the outlining swell of her breasts beneath the sports bra. “Might have to sample the goods before I dispose of them.”

“In your dreams,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, the phone still held tightly in her hand.

“Had quite a few of those,” he replied with a smirk.

“They can die with you.”

“You’re so cute when you get all determined,” he said in a patronizing voice. With a cold smile he continued walking around her in a slow circle. “It’s nice that you think so highly of your skills as a fighter that you might actually be able to pull one over on me.”

“I have no intention to pull one over on you, Angel,” Buffy replied in a sweet voice. “You’re going to know exactly what hits you.”

“Just like you did,” he said in a menacing whisper, leaning close to her. “How did it feel?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her. “How did it feel knowing your life could be taken from you at any moment?”

“I’ve never known that feeling. How does it feel for you, right now?”

Narrowing his eyes at her smart-aleck reply, Angelus stood up a little straighter. “You always were my favorite.”

“Favorite?” Buffy repeated skeptically.

“Favorite agent,” he clarified. “The others weren’t nearly as fun.”

“This is a beautiful moment we’re having- can we please fight?” she asked dryly.

“I don’t wanna fight,” Angelus said, once again slowly approaching Buffy as she raised an eyebrow.

“No?” she replied skeptically.

“No, I thought we could get back together,” he said, suppressing the smile on his lips.

“Like you ever had a shot with me,” she said, smirking as his eyes darkened.

“I have one right now,” Angelus replied, letting her know what kind of shot he was talking about. Buffy didn’t need to see a gun to know that he was armed. “And I’m in a generous mood,” he whispered, leaning in close to her, smiling when Buffy didn’t step away. “So if you want to run, I’ll give you a ten-second head start.”

Not backing down, Buffy looked up at him with a cold expression. “I don’t run from things that don’t scare me,” she replied, nearly smiling when his eyes narrowed on her.

“Be careful, Buff. Our last two meetings didn’t exactly end in your favor.”

“I seem to remember you looking like shit by the time you were able to limp away from those meetings,” she said, not showing how uncomfortable she was with having him mere inches away from her. “You don’t scare me, Angelus. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a man. I should have killed you when you least expected it, but no, I had to have some ridiculous idea that a fair fight was the only way to go. Guess what, lover?” she whispered, leaning even closer to him until her lips were nearly touching his. “I’m over it.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Buffy slammed a punch into his jaw, sending his head sailing back with a snap. Not giving him a chance to recover, she landed a well-placed kick to his knee, using the hand with the phone in it to smash another punch into his nose, trying to ignore the explosion of pain that was traveling from her shoulder down the side of her body.

Angelus reeled back, catching himself on one of the machines. “You’re gonna wish you’d never done that,” he said in a low voice, looking at her with a murderous gaze.

“You know,” she said, slightly winded as she smiled at him. “I really hate it when men dish it out but can’t take it.”

Moving to punch him again, Buffy struggled when Angelus caught her fist in his hand, landing a hit of his own that sent her falling back. Quickly recovering, Buffy spun around, kicking him in the stomach.

Slowly losing the advantage after what felt like hours but was just moments, Buffy breathed heavily, trying to prepare for his next attack.

Each continued trading blows. Buffy felt her body growing weaker, moderately proud of herself for lasting as long as she had with her shoulder sending rivulets of pain through her body with each small movement. Cringing when she was knocked to the ground, her head connecting with one of the weight machines, Buffy dazedly looked up at Angelus’ smiling face as he stood above her. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the gun he was pointing at her.

“Say goodnight, bitch,” he growled.

Seeing his finger tighten on the trigger, Buffy’s breath caught in her throat seconds before slamming her foot into his stomach. Jumping to her feet with a surge of adrenaline, she gave him a high kick to the head, successfully dropping him to the floor. Walking over to him as he tried to sit up, Buffy glared at the man before her, lifting one of the weights off its stand. “Goodnight, bitch,” she said, slamming iron into his face, allowing a small sense of satisfaction when he fell to the ground.

Spinning around in fighting stance at the sound of someone running through the door, Buffy dropped the weight in her hand, never hearing it fall to the floor as she looked into Spike’s eyes.

The two stayed where they were, staring at each other as if they hadn’t seen the other in years. Slowly surveying the mess in the room, Spike’s jaw tightened when he looked at Angelus lying on the floor.

“Is he dead?” he asked, never tearing his eyes away from the other man.

“God, I hope so,” Buffy whispered, feeling as if her strength was draining out of her while Spike leaned over and picked up Angelus’ gun, setting it far out of reach, just in case. “How did you get here so fast?” she asked, wincing at the tiniest movement of her shoulder.

“A lot of people will need to redo their landscaping.”

Buffy managed a tearful smile before throwing herself into Spike’s arms. “You came,” she whispered, burying her head in his chest as his arms banded around her in a tight grip, making her think that nothing could get to her. “You came for me.”

Spike closed his eyes, dropping his head to her shoulder, leaving a soft kiss in his wake. “No one hurts my girl.” Looking over her shoulder to make sure Angelus’ still form was remaining immobile, he smiled. “Obviously,” he added as an afterthought, tightening his hold on Buffy, pausing when he heard her whimper. “Let me look at you,” he whispered, pulling back to cup her face in his hands.

Running his thumb over the area that he knew would be bruised in a few hours, Spike gently touched her skin, the cut on her forehead, her hair. Anything to reassure himself that she was okay. No longer worried about the formalities and what his feelings for her might mean for him, he took comfort in the fact that she was standing in front of him. His hands slid beneath her hair, lightly clasping behind her neck. Unable to resist any longer, he closed the distance between them, brushing a tender kiss to her lips.

Buffy trembled as he deepened the kiss, feeling the tears spilling down her cheeks. Her eyes stayed closed when Spike pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered in a choked voice, the double meaning of his statement not lost on her.

Buffy opened her mouth to respond before her eyes snapped over to the door at the sound of footsteps downstairs.

“It’s Giles,” Spike said in a reassuring voice, waiting until she relaxed before continuing. “I called him on my way over.”

“Buffy!”

Turning at the sound of her name, Buffy offered Giles a weak smile, wearily resting her head against Spike’s chest. “I’m alright, Giles,” she said, looking from her surrogate father to the man holding her. “I’m alright.”

* * * * *

“Damn it, that hurts!” Buffy cried, glaring at the EMT who was attempting to re-stitch her shoulder.

“It’s not supposed to hurt,” he informed her. “I’ve given you enough drugs to dull the pain.”

“Really? Well, why don’t I shoot you in the arm, reopen the wound after that and then stick a needle and thread through your skin and see how hot you feel?”

Spike leaned against the side of the ambulance, smirking as Buffy snapped at the young man.

“I’m doing the best I can,” he said irritably.

Gritting her teeth, Buffy rested her head against the ambulance, closing her eyes in an attempt to dull the pain in her arm. Reopening them a moment later when she felt a warm hand cover hers, she looked at Spike gratefully, breathing a little easier when he gently squeezed her hand. Staring into his eyes for a long moment, Buffy was surprised when the ache of her shoulder seemed to ease.

“Done,” the technician said, repacking his supplies.

“Thanks,” Buffy mumbled, breaking eye contact with Spike as she pushed herself to her feet.

“You feeling alright, love?” he asked, noticing her grimace of pain.

“Yeah,” she murmured, nodding slightly, refusing to look at him. “I’m okay.”

“Buffy, may I have a word with you?” Giles asked, approaching her.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to Spike, following her boss to a remote area so that they could talk without interruptions.

“Angelus is dead.”

“Figured as much,” Buffy replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

“And as for certain new… developments, I’m not sure if they’re particularly wise,” he continued, glancing in Spike’s direction.

“Maybe they are and maybe they’re not,” she said, lifting her uninjured shoulder in a meager shrug. “But it’s my life and… it’s something I need to do,” she said, her eyes silently pleading with him to understand.

“I do wish you’d reconsider,” he said with a sigh.

“I need to do this, Giles,” she said, trying to make him understand. “I’ll hate myself if I don’t.”

“Very well,” Giles said with a sigh, placing a hand on her back and leading her toward the crowd. “I can offer you a place to stay tonight, if you wish. After such a trying day, you need to get your rest.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’d like to stay with Spike,” she said, seeing the man in question turn in surprise when he overheard their conversation as they approached. “If he’ll have me,” she murmured, suddenly feeling more self-conscious, remembering their last meeting at his house.

A relieved smile lit up Spike’s face as he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ll always have you.”



 

Chapter 38 – Just For Tonight


Following Spike into the mansion, Buffy tiredly looked around, heavily leaning on him as the exhaustion of the day seemed to creep through her body. Snuggling deeper into the leather duster that was draped around her shoulders, she looked around the darkened interior.

“No houseguests?” she asked, glancing around.

“Told Ethan to get lost after you called and bitched at me,” he replied with an affectionate smile.

“I did not bitch,” she said indignantly, turning to face him. “I… okay, there might have been a little bitching, but I had good reason,” she added hastily, shivering when she felt his hand tenderly caress her cheek, slowly falling downward to rest on her throat. Glancing around the mansion, Buffy lowered her gaze to the floor, taking a deep breath before asking, “And there’s no one else here?”

Listening to the soft question, Spike tilted her head up to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“The woman… from yesterday,” she clarified, looking over his shoulder to avoid his gaze.

“Just a contact, Buffy,” he said in a soft voice, bringing his other hand up to cup her face, forcing her eyes back to his. “I told you it was nothing.”

“You’ve told me a lot of things,” she whispered, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. “Hurt a lot of-”

“But I don’t hurt you.”

Buffy thought about the scar on her neck. The blade of the knife pressed against her back. His fist hitting her jaw. The feel of her body hitting the counter as he choked her.

And he hadn’t hurt her.

There wasn’t one thing that had occurred between them that hadn’t turned her into a stronger person. It kept her alive when she thought she wouldn’t be able to make it. She owed that to him.

“I know,” she murmured, resting her head against his chest, relaxing when she felt his arms wrap around her, giving her the comfort she needed.

“There’s a lot to work through,” he whispered, never seeing Buffy’s eyes open as she continued to hold onto him.

“Is there?”

“We’ve never really talked. In the hospital, yeah, but… I think there’s some gaps that need filling in.”

“Can we leave it?” she asked, pulling back to look at him with a hopeful expression. “Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” he agreed with a nod, brushing a kiss to her lips. “There’s one thing I’m not sure about,” he said, biting his lip as he suppressed a smile. “The night that we… when everything came out in the open? What if it hadn’t?”

Frowning slightly, Buffy tilted her head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“You had a gun strapped to your thigh, Buffy,” he said in amusement. “What would have happened if that had been a normal night and I managed to get you into the bedroom?”

“Guess you wouldn’t have been getting any that night,” she teased, kissing his neck.

“Then I would have known that something was wrong,” he said, smiling when she pulled back to look at him. “There’s no way you can resist me, Goldilocks,” he continued, chuckling when she lightly slapped his chest.

“Pig,” she said, suppressing a giggle.

“You know it, baby.”

Buffy smiled warmly, her touch turning even gentler as she lightly ran a finger along his chest, feeling her nerves taking over. “Can we go upstairs now?”

Spike stepped back in surprise, obviously not expecting her request. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” she said quietly, nodding as she maintained eye contact with him, wanting him to know exactly how serious she was.

Taking her hand in his, Spike brought it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to the back of it, never letting his gaze leave hers. “You told me something tonight,” he whispered, afraid to raise his voice for fear of breaking the fragile spell they seemed to be under. “Something that you’ve said before and then denied. Several times,” he added.

Struggling to keep the tears from surfacing, Buffy attempted to smile at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the moisture in her eyes as she tenderly cupped his cheek in her hand. “I love you,” she said in a strained voice.

“You’re sure about that this time?” he teased quietly, smiling when she laughed inaudibly.

“I am,” she replied with a nod.

“That works out nicely, then,” he murmured, covering her hand with his. “Because I never stopped loving you.”

Feeling the tears finally spill over, Buffy pulled him toward her, pressing her lips to his in a desperate kiss. A muffled cry left her lips when Spike swung her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. Separating a few moments later, her fingers remained laced in his hair as he lowered her to the ground. Their gazes remained locked as Buffy played with the soft strands beneath her fingertips.

“God, I’ve missed you,” she whispered, taking a deep breath to control the rest of her tears.

“Missed you, too, love,” he murmured, brushing a tear away that managed to escape her lashes. “What’s with the waterworks?”

“It’s… nothing,” she said, shaking her head as she wiped her eyes, trying to force a laugh. “Just an emotional day.”

“What can I do?” he asked softly, his eyes widening slightly when she took his hand, leading him to the bed. Shrugging off his duster as she walked, Buffy tossed it onto a nearby chair, leaving her in her workout pants and sports bra. “You don’t have-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Buffy said, stripping the bra over her head, smiling when Spike moved with lightning-fast speed to get to her. Shrieking when he wrapped his arms around her and pushed her down to the bed, Buffy giggled when his lips covered hers in a frantic kiss, separating a moment later to pull his shirt over his head. “And I thought I was the needy one,” she said with a smile, laughing when Spike grabbed her pants and panties, dragging them down her legs.

“It’s been too long,” he murmured, kicking off the rest of his clothes before leaving soft kisses along her skin as he climbed on top of her, closing his eyes when she wrapped her arms around him. His movements slowed as he looked at her. “Buffy,” he whispered, gently nuzzling the scar on her neck, breathing a sigh of relief when she smiled. “There’s something I need-”

“I never slept with him, Spike,” she whispered, caressing the contours of his face. “You know that. There was never anyone else.”

“Nice to know, love, but I was going to say I needed you to know something.”

Buffy felt her mouth go dry at the hidden implications. “O-okay,” she murmured nervously, closing her eyes when Spike’s fingers threaded through her hair.

“There was never anyone else,” he whispered, kissing her tenderly for a brief moment. “Never.”

“You mean that?” she whispered, looking up at him, her face filled with uncertainty. “After I took the O’Neill case, you showed up in Chicago. The girl at the gallery-”

“A woman who works for me. Her name is Cordelia Chase and she’s married to my friend Doyle. I wanted her there to distract Angel if he came in while I was talking to you.”

“And Darla?”

“Exactly who I said she was. If Angel hadn’t shown up in town, she was my informant to get to him. She was helping me so I could help you.”

Searching his face for a moment, a sad smile played on her lips as she rapidly blinked away the tears. “Love me, Spike,” she whispered, closing her eyes when the tears spilled down her cheeks as he gently entered her. “Just love me.”

“I love you,” he whispered, moving inside of her as he tenderly brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she said in a choked voice. “It’s always been you,” she gasped as he sped up his thrusts. “Never been anyone else.”

Rocking their hips together, Spike clung to Buffy, scared that she would disappear if he let her go. His lips continuously sought hers out, only separating from her when her back arched as she cried out from the stimulation.

Plunging into her with more force, Buffy’s gasps and moans seemed to spur him on as they moved together. “Need you,” she whispered, leaving gentle bites on his neck, feeling his muscles tense beneath her hands. “I’ve needed you so much.”

Her hips rising to meet his, her lips parted when she felt the familiar tightening in her belly. Arching up to meet him, her movements took on a desperate quality as she clung to him.

Screaming out her orgasm a moment later, she gasped for breath as Spike climaxed, his body tightening with the release before relaxing on top of her. Rolling over with Buffy firmly wrapped in his arms, he breathed heavily, trying to get his body under control. “Love you, baby,” he whispered, running a hand through her hair.

Buffy smiled against his chest, brushing a light kiss to his skin. “I know.”

* * * * *

Buffy felt as if she’d been staring at him for hours. The sharp angles of his face, the softness of his lips, the strong muscles in his torso. Everything was burned into her memory.

Turning to look at the clock, Buffy sighed, seeing what time it was. Climbing out of bed, she was careful not to wake him as she gathered her clothes, redressing quickly. Picking up one of his red silk shirts that was thrown over a chair, Buffy slipped it on, flipping her hair over the collar before quietly stepping out of the room.

Discovering a room with a phone, she quietly called a cab before sneaking back into his room and walking over to the desk that sat in the corner.

Finding a piece of paper a moment later, she quickly jotted down a note, fighting the tears in her eyes as she signed it. Walking toward the door, she paused as a tear escaped her lashes, slowly traveling down her cheek. Turning toward the sleeping man, her chin trembled as she walked over to the bed, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodbye,” she whispered, slowly straightening.

With a look of determination, she walked out of the room without a second glance. She had a plane to catch.


 

Chapter 39 – Ain’t Love Grand


Loading the last of her suitcases into the trunk, Buffy sighed as she slammed it shut, staring at the car keys in her hand for a long moment before looking up at her house.

The movers were set to arrive later in the day to put her things in storage. Now, as the dark blue sky lightened to a hazy gray, casting the house in a mild silhouette, Buffy bit her lip, wondering if she was making the right decision. Was it worth it to start over? To leave everything behind?

“Buffy!”

Turning around in surprise at the sound of the voice, Buffy’s eyes widened when she saw him running toward her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, glancing around. “Giles, it’s not even five in the morning.”

“I wanted to see you before you left,” he said, slightly winded from his jog from the car.

“Why?” she asked in surprise.

“To make sure you’re not making a mistake,” he said plainly.

“Giles-”

“Look Buffy, I know that you feel this is the right decision for you-”

“It is,” she insisted.

“-but I want you to realize what you’re giving up.”

“You’re talking about Spike, aren’t you?” she murmured, looking up at him with a sad expression.

“I don’t like him, Buffy,” he said quietly. “But anyone can see how he feels about you.”

“Never thought you would be the one to be pleading his case,” she muttered, looking at the ground for a moment. “I’m making the right decision, Giles,” she murmured, turning her eyes back to his. “The two of us… We don’t fit.”

“Well, I’m inclined to disagree with you,” he said with a smile. “But I know how stubborn you can be.”

Buffy smiled before checking her watch. “I better go.”

“Need a lift to the airport?”

“That would be great, but my car-”

“I can drive it there and then have it arranged to be moved to the storage facility.”

“Sounds like a better plan than long-term parking in the airport parking lot,” she replied. “Let’s go.”

* * * * *

Spike groaned as he rolled over, wincing when the sun streamed through the windows, hitting him in the eyes. Becoming all too aware of how cold he felt, he slowly turned to the other side of the bed, barely registering the fact that he noticed Buffy was gone.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves as he sat up, he frowned when he saw the folded note lying beside him. Opening it up, he tried to swallow the lump in his throat when he stared at her handwriting.

Spike,

I didn’t want to leave last night, please believe me. There are just some things that I have to do… and they don’t include you. I’m not saying this to be cruel or to make you angry, I’m saying it because we would never work. You know that. I love you so much. Please believe me. Everything I said last night was the truth. I’m leaving. Leaving town. I’ve already arranged everything and… I don’t plan on coming back. Thank you, Spike, for everything. For loving me, even when you didn’t have to… and letting me love you. Please don’t try to find me. We both know that we would never work.

Love Always,
Buffy


Spike closed his eyes when he finished reading, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the pounding headache that was beginning to form. Throwing back the comforter on his bed, he angrily got to his feet. “Not that easy, love.”

* * * * *

Walking into FBI Headquarters, Spike took a deep breath. It had been years since he set foot in the building, and he wasn’t looking for a walk down memory lane. Making his way toward the back of the building, he managed to bypass everyone who looked like they planned on stopping him.

Stepping into Rupert Giles’ office as if it was his own, Spike crossed his arms over his chest, carefully sizing up the other man.

“How did you get in here?” Giles asked, getting to his feet.

“Used to be an agent, remember, Rupes? Not exactly hard to get into this building when you know how it works. You should look into that.”

“Yes, well, most of our former agents are not renowned criminals.”

“You say pot-a-to…”

“Why are you here?” Giles interrupted.

“Don’t play this game, Rupert. It’s not playing to your strengths. You know why I’m here.”

“I have a feeling the name ‘Buffy Summers’ is going to show up in this conversation.”

“When?” Spike asked, gritting his teeth.

“When what?” Giles replied, taking off his glasses in irritation.

“How long have you known that this was her plan?”

“Only a few days,” he said with a sigh. “She left a letter of resignation on my desk, saying that she wanted out of the Bureau. I only just talked to her about it last night, after Angelus died.”

“That’s why you pulled her aside?” Spike asked, looking at the floor. “I figured you were trying to steer her away from me. Wanting to talk some sense into her.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” he replied with a sigh. “But when Buffy sets her mind on something, nothing will steer her away from her goal.”

“What I love most about her,” he murmured with a slight smile, his features turning cold as he looked at the other man. “Where is she?”

“You honestly think I would volunteer that information?”

Spike sighed, sinking into the chair across from the older man, his hands folded in front of him. “Be straight with me, Giles,” he said quietly. “I need her… I hate that I need her,” he continued through gritted teeth. “But I do. Please tell me where she is.”

“I made a promise to her. I can’t tell you that information.” Giles sighed, watching Spike hang his head in defeat, briefly closing his eyes before continuing, “What has she always wanted to see?” he asked, seeing the confusion on the other man’s face as he raised his eyes from the floor.

“What?”

“She’s not just an agent,” Giles said quietly. “She’s not just some weapon that we threw at you to see if you’d come out swinging. You’ve gotten to know that girl, and in the time that you’ve known her… where would she go? She has the freedom and time to go out and do what she has always wanted to do… If you know that, if you know her, then you know the answer.”

Spike thought back for a moment, standing up to pace the room as flashes of his memory teased him with possible answers. His eyes widened as he remembered a particular conversation.

“The Artist's Garden at Giverny. Nineteen years after he painted this one… I guess his work just had to mature some more.”

“Why that one, love?”

“Because it was a water garden- it gave everything such depth and richness. The way he painted them from overhead, intensifying the surroundings.”

“Ever seen it?”

“At the Musée d'Orsay in Paris? Not exactly in my budget.”

A slow smile spread across Spike’s lips as he clapped Giles on the shoulder. “Rupert, old man, you’re gonna be Best Man at my wedding.”

“Imagine what that means to me,” he said dryly, taking off his glasses to rub them with a soft cloth as Spike practically ran from the office. “And what will Ethan say?” he yelled after him, smiling when he heard the other man laugh before the door slammed. Shaking his head as he replaced his glasses, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “Ain’t love grand.”





 

Chapter 40 – Exactly the Same


Buffy stood in front of the painting, trying to fight the tears in her eyes.

‘You’re being ridiculous, Summers,’ she thought, briefly closing her eyes. ‘You’re in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, standing in the one place you’ve always wanted to be, looking at the painting you’ve dreamed about seeing since your mother first showed you a picture. Stop with the pity party.’

Reopening her eyes, she took in the beautiful art, admiring the strokes of color that swept over the canvas. Tilting her head for a closer look, Buffy stared at the painting in awe as she brushed her hair away from her cheek, wanting to get a better look.

“Beautiful.”

Stiffening at the sound of the familiar British accent, Buffy didn’t bother to turn around. “It is,” she said in a choked voice, swallowing hard as she gave a slight nod of agreement.

“I meant the admirer,” he replied with a slow smirk, reminiscing to a time several months ago when he’d first laid eyes on her.

Nearly laughing as the déjà vu overwhelmed her, Buffy shook her head as she sighed, blinking back the tears in her eyes. “Please tell me that line doesn’t normally work,” she said, biting her lip when she heard him chuckle behind her.

“It’s been known to,” he said, seeing her turn slightly, but she still wouldn’t look at him. “But only once. Amazing girl. Don’t know where I went wrong.”

“Maybe it wasn’t just you,” Buffy said, her gaze falling to the floor.

“Maybe not,” he murmured, turning his attention back to the painting. “The Artist's Garden at Giverny.”

A smile pulled at Buffy’s lips as the words practically rolled off his tongue, almost poetically. “Know anything about it?” she asked, never turning to face him.

“Nineteen years after he painted The Artist's Garden at Vetheuil. Never much cared for this one until someone pointed out to me that his work just need to… mature some more,” he said with a slight smile, repeating her words from so long ago.

“My thoughts exactly,” she murmured.

“I seem to remember why it started to grow on me… The description it was given to me by a girl I knew.”

Tilting her head to the side slightly, Buffy smiled softly to herself. “And you still remember what she said?”

“Because it was a water garden,” Spike quoted, stepping a little closer to her, brushing the hair away from her shoulders, sending a chill racing up and down her spine. “It gave everything such depth and richness. The way he painted them from overhead, intensifying the surroundings.”

“You have a good memory.”

“I’m William Reed,” he replied, ignoring what she’d just said.

Smiling softly, she slowly turned her gaze toward him, blushing when he took her hand in his and gently kissed the back of it. “Buffy Summers,” she said with an amused expression.

“So, Buffy Summers, are you in the art business?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her in interest.

“I dabble,” she said with a smile, watching as he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“Dabble?” he asked after a moment, glancing around the museum, seeing that they were relatively alone. Taking a step forward, he hesitantly wrapped an arm around her waist, looking into her eyes, searching for something. “What are you doing here?” he asked gently, watching her with a pained expression.

Smiling softly, Buffy rested her hands lightly against his chest, unsure of what was happening between them, fighting the urge to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. “Living the dream.”

“This is your dream?” he asked, a line forming between his eyebrows as he studied her.

“It could have been,” she whispered, a sad smile on her face as her eyes filled with tears. “It just didn’t…”

“You could have told me,” he said quietly, studying her carefully. “I would have brought you here… I would have taken you anywhere.”

“I know,” she said, looking anywhere but at him. “But we could never… What do you want, Spike?” she asked in a drained voice.

“I want a fresh start,” he said simply, seeing her eyes widen as she looked up at him.

“Fresh starts are overrated,” she muttered, pulling away from him and moving to pass him, stopping when she felt a restraining hand on her arm.

“Are they?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Aren’t they?” she countered in the same tone.

“Buffy-”

“There’s no us, Spike. There never could be, so why are you even doing this?”

“You don’t know that,” he replied, clenching his jaw as he looked away. “You have no idea what could have… You were going to leave anyway, weren’t you?” he asked, turning toward her with a blank expression. “Regardless of whether the O’Neill case was finished. Regardless of the fact that you wouldn’t have told me goodbye. You were ready to up and leave.”

“I was,” Buffy confirmed quietly, staring unseeingly at the painting in front of her.

“Well,” Spike said with a sardonic smile. “Isn’t that nice. And the other night? Just a bit of cold comfort?”

“You should know that’s not what it was,” she said, turning to look at him, seeing his jaw clench as he stared straight ahead. “I told you in the note- I meant everything I said, it’s just… the reason I said it… I thought I…”

“You thought you would never see me again,” he filled in.

“Spike, I-”

“Save me your explanations, Summers,” he said, turning to face her with a cold expression. “I know what you were trying to do… and I don’t care.”

Buffy’s eyes widened in shock as she watched him.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, his voice gaining more emotion as his eyes softened. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you,” he said, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “So if you plan on running away again… plan on me finding you.”

“What are you saying?” she whispered, too scared to hope that what she was hearing was the truth.

“I want you back,” he said, his stomach tightening with apprehension. “I’m giving it up, Buffy, I’m giving it all up. Sod everything else- I want us. Regardless of what you say, there is an us.”

Buffy opened her mouth to respond, finding that the words wouldn’t come. Looking at the floor in shock, she tried to control her breathing as she shook her head. “We’re too different,” she whispered.

“And we’re exactly the same,” he replied with a smile.

“You really believe that?” she asked, closing her eyes when he leaned forward and tenderly brushed his lips over hers in a chaste kiss.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. I always say what I mean,” he whispered, resting his hands on her hips, subtly pulling her closer.

“I want there to be an us,” she whispered, blinking the tears away as she looked at him, gently fisting her hands in his duster, pulling him lower for a tender kiss before resting her forehead against his with a soft smile. “We’ll probably end up killing each other.”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” he replied with a smirk.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Me either.”

~The End~