Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel. This story is not for profit. "Daylight" is Alison Krauss and Union Station, from the album New Favorite. Usually, this is where I'd say something witty about not suing me or whatnot, but I'm out of clever things to say at the moment…

Rating: NC-17 (all the usual reasons—which boils down mainly to naked Spike.)

Summary: When the Powers that Be decide to "reward" a vampire with a soul, Buffy finds herself forced to realize that maybe things aren't what she always thought they were… (Spike/Buffy)

Spoilers: This picks up directly after "Not Fade Away," so everything on both shows is fair game here.

Author's Note: First off, I'd like to make it clear that I'm not one for character "bashing." Writing negative portrayals of a character simply because I don't like them isn't my style, seeing as it tends to lead to bad characterization and weak plots. However, in this fic I do make several of what I feel to be justified points concerning the negative aspects of Angel's character. While I respect that everyone has their own opinion and will certainly listen to your point of view should you feel the need to write me an email about how Buffy and Angel have the truest love ever, and I'm just a deluded psycho who's been blinded by the shininess of Spike's hair, I'd prefer not to. So, if you're a rabid B/A shipper (which if you're at most of the sites where I post you're probably not, but I just want to cover my bases), or even just such a big fan of Angel that you feel he can do no wrong, I suggest navigating your browser away from this page.

Also, you may notice some similarities to my earlier fic "After the End Has Come and Gone." The two stories aren't identical by any means, but I deal with some of the same issues in this fic as I did in that one. "After the End…" was the first Buffy fic I began, and there were several key episodes I had not seen when I started it. I feel that as my knowledge of the show and the characters expanded, that fic sort of fell apart. I had a few things planned that I wanted to do with it, but by then end it was such a mess that I just concluded and was done with it. Now I feel like I can better accomplish what I really meant to do with that story, and I'm attempting to try again from a different angle here. So yes, some minor things are the same, but it will in no means be the same story. It follows a different plot, and my approach to many of these issues will be different.

I'd also like to thank Niamh for the opportunity to share rants and plot bunnies with her. *wink* I don't think I ever would've had my thoughts sorted out enough to write this fic otherwise.

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the best invention since Domino's cheesy bread. (I love that stuff…) Leaving it makes me a happy little author who wants to write even more. Also, I allow archiving, but if you've never archived any of my stuff before, ask before hand. If you already have me on your site, then go ahead and add anything else you want. Email: addie_logan@yahoo.com

Shameless Website Plug: If you want to read my other fics, go here: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/addielogan

Daylight

By: Addie Logan

*** *** ***

Daylight falls
And I'm lost in the big parade
Hold my hand darling
I'm afraid of the daylight

Shade is dark
Cool and languid for life or long
Safe in shadow, it's never as dark as the daylight
As the daylight

When I was just knee high
My momma told me never try to be
Someone that I am not
Yet over time I had forgot
A wandering child, so lost at play
He's found himself, but he can't find his way
In the daylight, oh the daylight
Oh daylight, oh daylight

Life is short
And there's no turning back the time
Fragrant meadows and rocks to climb
In that daylight

In my mind
There's a corner I need to turn
Lessons left is a lesson learned
In the daylight
In the daylight

I miss the forest shade that took me there
The promise I made can never leave the dark so dear
Safe and soothing yet I fear
As I recall and I reflect
I see it's safer to connect to the daylight
Oh the daylight
Oh daylight, oh daylight

Daylight falls
And I'm lost in the big parade
Hold my hand darling, I'm afraid
Of the daylight, of the day ...

*** *** ***

"Let's go to work."

Spike stood as straight as he could, Angel's answer to his question about a plan barely registering as Spike prepared to fight what he suspected would be his last battle.

He wasn't afraid to dust. He'd been prepared for it in the final battle on the Hellmouth, and in a lot of ways, he still felt like that should've been his end. Everything since then hadn't felt like much of anything real anyway.

Spike took a deep breath, ignoring the fact that he didn't need it and the mixture of blood and rain on his face that made the act difficult. This was the end, and he was ready for it.

"So you need a little help with that dragon, or were you planning on going at it alone?"

Spike turned at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. As he saw Buffy step from the shadows, leaning casually on the hilt of a sword, his emotions shifted from surprise to elation to fear. He wasn't planning on making it out of this, and he didn't want the same ending for her. He opened his mouth to speak, to urge her to sit this one out, but Angel spoke first.

"Buffy? Why are you here? This isn't…"

"If you finish that sentence with 'your fight,' I swear I'm staking you. And I'm here because one of Giles's seers said you had some trouble brewing in good ol' LA."

"And you just decided to rush down here on your own and take on the armies of Hell?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. It was a gesture Spike had seen her do a thousand times, but this time he noticed something different. She had a calm self-assuredness to her, one that she'd grasped for in the past but had never quite achieved. He realized that some time in the past year—away from him—she'd grown up.

"Not alone," Buffy informed Angel. "I called in the cavalry."

It was then that Spike noticed the demons weren't advancing on them at quite the speed they had been before. Many of them had begun to scatter, some turning around to face an opponent behind them.

"Brought my army," Buffy said. "Think it might come in handy?"

"Will it ever," Gunn replied. He winced, clutching his stomach wound.

"You," Buffy said, pointing to Illyria, "take him back out this alley here. There's a few healers not far. They can help him."

Illyria stared at the Slayer for a moment. "I wish to remain here and do violence."

"That's great. Help him first. I'm sure there will be plenty of violence left for you when you get back."

Illyria looked back at the smaller band of demons not distracted by the Slayers that had regrouped and were starting to advance on them again. She then surprised Spike by doing as Buffy had said, helping Gunn down towards where Buffy had indicated there would be someone to help him. Angel gaped as Buffy came to stand between the two vampires, her sword now raised.

"What?" Buffy asked at Angel's wary expression.

"She's a hellgod. She normally doesn't so what people say like that."

"Yeah, well, a hellgod's nothing I haven't dealt with before," Buffy replied. "Hi, Spike. Remind me to kick your ass when all this is over." With that, Buffy leapt into battle.

Angel and Spike shared a brief glance before joining her.

*** *** ***

As it grew dark only moments after the sun had begun to rise, Angel frowned, his trademark brooding becoming almost palpable. Spike leaned against the wall of the alley they'd ducked into to protect themselves from those few moments of sunlight. "What's the matter this time, Peaches? Y'know, despite the fact that you entered into an unholy pact that has brought Hell down on our heads?" Spike wiped blood from his forehead, keeping it from running down into his eyes. "Were you hoping to burst into flames?"

"The last time the sun darkened like this, things got really ugly, really fast," Angel replied.

"Well, things are already ugly. And it's just Willow working a little mojo so we're not stuck out in the daylight. As long as she doesn't get all veiny we should be fine. Well, aside from the fact that those hoards of demons still want to kill us."

"Would you stop that? Don't you think I know I screwed up this time? One of my best friends is dead. I don't need your snide comments to remind me what I've unleashed."

Spike blinked. "Not like you to admit when you're wrong."

"Yeah, well, the mess outside this alley is sort of rubbing it in my face." Angel stared down at the small river of watery blood running in front of him. "I should've listened to Cordelia. She got a reprieve from death to warn me, and I didn't listen. I thought I did, but…"

"Yeah, well, coulda, shoulda, woulda, mate. It's dark again now, and we have a battle to fight."

Angel nodded, raising his sword again.

*** *** ***

Three dark days passed before the battle was over. Spike stood, surveying the carnage. The demons had been defeated, but Slayers had fallen as well. It was all a bloody mess.

In the one hundred and twenty four years that he'd been a vampire, Spike had never seen anything quite like this. It had gone beyond any fight he'd ever fought, more than he should've been able to handle with just fists and fangs.

He was still surprised he hadn't ended up as nothing more than dust washing into a gutter.

"You know, I really didn't appreciate having to find out you weren't dead from some psychic predicting doom in Los Angeles."

Spike didn't look at Buffy as she walked up beside him. "Things have been complicated."

"Yeah, I bet. You know, I thought maybe you were different than all the others, but then you go and abandon me the first chance you get, too. I should've known all that stuff you said before about me being 'the one' didn't really mean anything."

"Buffy, it meant…" Spike sighed. "This really isn't the time. There's…well, there's bodies everywhere for starters."

"Willow and some of the other witches are taking care of the demon bodies."

"And the girls?"

"The Slayers are being identified so their bodies can be sent home." Spike heard her draw in a shuddering breath. "You were planning on dying here, weren't you."

"Would've if you hadn't showed up. No way we could've taken all of them on by ourselves and lived to tell about it."

"You were going to die, and you weren't going to say good-bye?"

Part of Spike wanted to turn around, grab Buffy and beg her to forgive him. Another part of him didn't want to go there again, was too tired to start over with her in something that he knew could only end badly. It was the second part that won out. "We said our good-byes, Buffy."

"Did we?"

"Yeah."

Buffy was keenly aware of the fact that he hadn't looked at her once since she'd walked up. "Spike, I'm not saying that you should've come back to me in a relationship sort of sense. I'm not even saying you had to be where I was. If you wanted to stay in LA and help Angel, fine. But I thought you were gone. As in permanently. I mourned you, and you were here the whole time, doing perfectly fine. You could've at least had the decency to let me know that someone I care about wasn't dead."

"Yeah, mourning your way right into the arms of the Immortal from what I've heard."

For a moment, Buffy was speechless. Finally, she snapped, "That is not the issue—or any of your business."

"I almost sought you out. I was incorporeal for a while, but as soon as I was solid again, I was going to find you. But what could I say after how we ended things? How could I top an exit like that?"

"How could you…? Dammit, Spike, you showing up on my doorstep and saying 'hi' would've topped that exit! God, you can be so dense sometimes, you know that? Just seeing you, looking at you and knowing you were real—that would've topped any exit." Buffy laughed humorlessly. "You're all the same. You, Angel, even Riley. All about the big gestures. Never thinking about how those left behind will deal with the fallout of your grand fucking exits."

"Don't compare me to them…"

"Then don't act like them! And it wasn't just me, Spike. Other people missed you, too."

"Yeah, like who? None of your bloody Scoobies ever gave a damn about me."

"Dawn did. Do you have any idea how many tears she's cried for you? How guilty she feels for not patching things up with you before you 'died?' Or how about just what losing someone else she loved did to her?"

Spike looked at her for the first time then. "Buffy, I didn't…"

"No, you didn't. I have a mess to help clean up." Buffy turned, ignoring Spike as he called out her name. But when she heard the thump of a body hitting the pavement, she turned. Spike was lying in a heap.

Buffy ran over to him, shaking him. "Spike! Come on, wake up. You're not all dusty, so I know you're not any deader…" Buffy tried to pull him to his feet, only to have him slump against her. She reached up to steady him, her hand grazing over his chest.

Suddenly, Buffy froze. She moved her hand back down slowly, stopping over his heart. Her eyes widened as her suspicion was confirmed.

It was beating.

*** *** ***

Spike opened his eyes slowly, his surroundings blurry and unfamiliar. "What…where…"

"Shh…Don't try to talk," a voice told him. "Just rest some more."

Spike nodded, his eyes closing again. It was good advice, and furthermore, it was advice he didn't think he was physically capable of ignoring at the moment.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he gained consciousness again, but this time things were clearer. He was in a bed, in a hospital. The room was silent aside from the steady beep of the heart monitor.

Wait a bloody minute… Spike glanced to the side, staring at the device he was hooked up to. He raised his hand, verifying that that was indeed where the wire was connected. He stared at the tiny digital heart blinking on the monitor, at the lines that were anything but flat.

"Yeah, that's yours."

Spike looked sharply, seeing Buffy sitting in a chair beside his bed. "I've got a heartbeat?"

"Among other things. You're, well, as far as we can tell you're alive."

Spike frowned. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know. We were…talking…and then you just hit the ground. When I went to see if you were all right, your heart was beating. We tried to wake you up, but we couldn't. The healers had their hands full with the injured Slayers, so we brought you to the hospital just to have you checked out."

"We?"

"Angel's in the waiting room."

Spike rolled his eyes. "I bet he's so worried for my well-being."

"Yeah, well, whether he is or not, I am." Buffy reached up, placing her hand on Spike's forehead. "You're warm. And you look a little flushed. I'm going to get the doctor to come take a look at you."

"I don't need a doctor," Spike muttered. "You're probably just so used to me being cold and pale that I seem warm and flushed."

"Nice try. I'll be right back."

Buffy ignored Spike's further protests as she walked out of the room towards the nurses' station. Angel approached her almost as soon as she was in his line of sight. "I need to talk to the nurses," she said, trying to push past him.

"Tell me how Spike's doing first."

"He's awake, but I think he has a fever. I need to get a doctor."

"A fever, huh? So he's still…"

"Alive. Yes. Now please, get out of my way."

Angel didn't move. "I don't like this, Buffy. It's clearly mystical."

"Mystical? I hadn't thought of that! Thank you so much Angel for telling me that a vampire suddenly coming back to life is mystical. What would I do without you?" Buffy hissed.

"This isn't a time for Slayer sarcasm."

"No, it's time for you to get out of my way before I knock you out."

"Still automatically resorting to violence and threats, I see."

Buffy threw her arms up in the air. "God, you are completely unbelievable sometimes!"

"Is there a problem?"

Buffy turned to the nurse who had approached them in order to head off any disturbance in the hospital waiting room. "No. I just came out to tell someone that the patient in room 212 is awake."

The nurse flipped a page on the clipboard she was holding. "212. Summers, William. I'll go find a doctor to take a look at him."

"Thank you," Buffy replied. As the nurse walked away, Buffy turned to go back into Spike's room when Angel grabbed her arm. "You checked him in under your name?"

"Yeah. What did you expect me to tell them his full name was, William T. Bloody? Besides, they tend to leave you out of the loop if you're not a relative."

"So you told them what, you're his sister?"

"Wife, actually."

"What!"

"Angel, lower your voice. This is a hospital, not a stadium. Pretending to be his sister after, well, everything we've, um, shared would just be ookie, and I wanted enough leeway to be able to stay with him, okay?"

"No, it's not okay. You told people you were married to Spike. How could you do that?"

"Oh god Angel, grow up." With that, Buffy snatched her arm away from him and went back into Spike's room, leaving a fuming vampire behind.

*** *** ***

"Your husband is going to be just fine, Ms. Summers," the doctor told Buffy as they discussed the tests they'd run on the now-conscious Spike. "We can't find any traces of any sort of physical damage to have caused his attack, neurological or otherwise. We'd like to keep him here one more night for observation, but barring any unforeseen complications, he should be fine to check out in the morning."

Buffy smiled. "Thank you. Can I go in and see him now?"

"Of course."

Buffy went into Spike's room, finding him sitting up in the bed, picking at a tray of hospital food. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm thinking I must be human, because this stuff has a lot of taste to it. Sadly, it's bad taste. Also feel like a soddin' pin cushion with all those tests. That one nurse out there—the brunette with the grip o' steel—so would've bitten her if I still had fangs. Bint. And what's with everyone calling me 'Mr. Summers'—and referring to you as my wife?"

Buffy blushed, looking down at the floor. "I sort of told them we were married. Just, you know, so I could stay in here with you."

"Uh huh. When am I getting out?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Bloody hell. I hate this place. Well, I guess if I have to be here, at least I have the telly. Be a dear and hand me the remote? It's over there on that dresser."

Buffy nodded, getting the remote. After she'd handed it to him, she sat back in the chair she'd been in when Spike had woken up. The only sounds in the room for a while were the heart monitor and the murmur of the television until Spike spoke again. "You hungry, Buffy? Most of this is crap, but the jell-o is almost tolerable."

"No, I'm all right. I ate while they were running those tests on you."

Spike nodded. "Bit likes jell-o," he said after a moment.

"Yeah, she does."

"I've missed her, you know. You said that I wasn't thinking about her, but I was. I just…well, I figured she didn't care what happened to me after…after what I did to you."

"Spike, about that."

"Oooh, look. Gilligan's Island. Wonder what those wacky castaways are up to this week."

Buffy rolled her eyes, knowing full well that Spike didn't give a damn about Gilligan's Island. "Fine. If you don't want to talk about things, we won't."

Spike sighed. "It's not… I just… My head hurts, all right?"

"All right. But I do want you to know that I don't hold anything that happened in Sunnydale against you."

"That mean you hold other things against me?"

"Still less than thrilled with you for not even calling me."

"So is your oh-so-cheery ex still brooding up the hallway, or did he storm off yet?"

"Just so you know, I'm only letting you change the subject because you're in the hospital. And Angel left. He had some things to see to."

"Is he out of job now that Wolfram and Hart is rubble? I heard about a bloke selling his forehead on e-Bay as advertising space. I'm sure Angel could make a pretty penny that way."

Buffy rolled her eyes again. "You're incorrigible, you know that don't you? And he's talking about starting back up Angel Investigations. He kept the Hyperion, so all he'll have to do is move back in."

"How bloody convenient."

"So you need anything?" Buffy asked. "Want me to take that tray?"

"Would you? This stuff even smells bad."

Buffy took the tray, putting it on a small table by the chair. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"I could go out and get you something else if you want. Maybe find a place around here with Buffalo wings?"

"Thanks, pet, but I'm all right. Stomach's sort of flippy anyway." Buffy suddenly grinned, and Spike raised an eyebrow. "What, happy to hear that I'm still feeling a bit ill?"

"No, it's not that at all. It's just, well, you called me 'pet.'"

"Yeah, so? Not like I've never done that before."

"I know it's just, well, that's the first time you've called me any of your pet names since I showed up in LA. I guess I missed hearing them."

"What, The Immortal doesn't have any names for you? No Cuddle Cakes or Honey Bunny? Pookie, maybe?"

"Stop it," Buffy said, although she was smiling a little. "And I didn't mean I missed being called pet names in general, just, well, that I missed yours."

"Thought you hated mine. They made you chop off all your hair."

"Please! I didn't do that 'cause of you. Ego much?"

"Denial much?" Spike replied, mimicking her accent. "You go and hack off all your hair right after I tell you how much I love it and say I'm going to start calling you Goldilocks? That's not a coincidence, luv."

"For your information, I had been considering a new look for quite sometime."

"Uh huh. Sure."

"I had!"

"So which one is it?"

"Which one is what?"

"Delusional or pathological liar."

"You know, I'm starting to think my whole resolution to be nice to you while you're in the hospital."

"This is you being nice?"

"Spike!"

Spike chuckled. "All right, all right. I'll let you live in your fantasy land."

Buffy gave him a triumphant smirk. "Thank you." After a couple of minutes of quiet between the two, Buffy said, "Giles is coming over from England tomorrow. He wants to see if he can figure out why you're suddenly among the living."

"Great. I get to be the Rupert's lab rat. All my dreams have come true."

"We do need to know what's going on, Spike. Vampires don't just suddenly become humans."

"I know why I did, pet. Shanshu Prophecy."

"Shana-whata?"

"Shanshu. It's a prophecy that said a vampire with a soul was going to become human. Ask Angel about it. Wanker figured it was his. Guess not so much."

"So you think this prophecy made you human?"

"Well, I don't think the prophecy made me human exactly, but it has to be connected."

"Even if it is because of this prophecy thing, there still has to be a reason. Something had to cause you to become human, Spike. Vampires don't just randomly develop heartbeats."

Spike shrugged. "Angel seemed to think it was some sort of reward. Guess I won the lottery. Not too hard when only two folks are holding tickets and one of 'em is a complete and total wanker." He yawned. "I know I shouldn't be because I was out for most of the day, but I'm knackered. Mind letting me get some shut-eye, Slayer?"

"No, go right ahead. I'm going to go for a walk, stretch my legs."

"Going to call Angel and ask him about the Shanshu?"

Buffy tisked. "No." She helped him turn off the television and lower his bed. "Get some rest, and we'll talk more later, okay?"

"Okay. Night, Buffy."

"Night, Spike."

Buffy walked out of his room and straight to the payphone. She put in her money and dialed Angel's number at the Hyperion.

"Hello?"

"Angel, it's Buffy."

"Hey. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to ask you about something Spike was talking about."

"It didn't have anything to do with a werewolf did it?"

"Huh? No. It was about some prophecy. Um, Shine Shoe?"

"Shanshu."

"Yeah, that's the one. He said you'd know about it."

"It talked about a vampire with a soul becoming human after an apocalyptic battle. But it was really unclear, and the texts have been tampered with in the past. I wouldn't put much stock in it."

"Yeah, well, there's a vampire with a soul turned human in a hospital room right now that makes me think otherwise."

"Buffy, this is Spike we're talking about here. If this Shanshu thing really did mean something, you don't think he'd be worthy of it? Come on."

"Actually, Angel, I do. I watched Spike change, and I know what kind of person he's become."

"Look, whatever made Spike human, it was not divine intervention, okay? It's something bad."

"How do you know that?"

"Because it has to be! Look, I have a lot to deal with right now. We'll discuss this later, when Spike's out of the hospital, and we can really sort everything out."

"Fine. Good bye, Angel."

"Bye Buffy."

Buffy hung up the phone and then took the walk she'd told Spike she was going on.

*** *** ***

Chapter 3:
Buffy sat in the hospital room, watching Spike as he slept. The rise and fall of his chest was steady—not the sporadic shadow of humanity his breathing patterns had been in the past. The heart monitor continued its steady rhythm, the tiny sound seeming to echo in the silent room.

In…Out…In…Out…

Beep…Beep…

Buffy's eyes grew slowly wider, an almost frightened look on her face as the reality of the situation began to settle on her. Spike was alive—human. He was everything she'd always told herself—and him—that he could never be, no longer what would prevent them from every having anything real.

But what they'd had before had been real—and not just for him, as she'd tried to claim once. She'd realized that long before she'd been ready to admit it. She'd meant those last three words she'd said to him more than she'd ever meant anything in her life, whether he believed them or not.

And now? So much had happened since then. She wasn't the same girl who had defended the Hellmouth for seven years. She was someone new, someone changed.

And so was Spike.

Buffy frowned as she reached out, taking hold of his warm hand as he slept.

*** *** ***

Angel stood amongst the wreckage of his room, his chest heaving with angry, unneeded breaths. He wished he'd staked Spike when Drusilla had first brought him home. He'd done it before to the plaything she'd made before. Why had he decided to let her keep this one, even after the other vampire had begun to grate on his nerves?

Now the bastard had everything that Angel knew should be his. Spike was human. He had Buffy. Angel's lip curled up in a sneer as he thought about Buffy presenting herself as Spike's wife. It made him sick to think that Spike had ever touched his soft, innocent Buffy. And how could she have cheapened what they had had by trying to substitute him—her true love—with just another cold body?

Angel sat down on the floor, his bed and chairs already destroyed by his own hand. Buffy had called asking him about the Shanshu… When Angel had signed it away, he'd convinced himself that it meant nothing. After everything that had happened since they'd first stumbled upon the prophecy, Angel had come to believe that it wasn't real. And even if it was, then it would be his destiny regardless. Nothing could take away his destiny, not even the Circle of the Black Thorn.

But Spike had. Spike, that bleached moron who had done nothing but be the bane of Angel's existence from the moment Drusilla had sunk her fangs into the boy's neck, had stolen what was his. His destiny, his girl—everything. He hung his head in his hands.

"You know, it's kind of hard for someone to take something that wasn't yours to begin with."

Angel glanced up suddenly, staring at the woman who appeared before him. "Cor…Cordelia?"

"Nice to know you remember me, what with all the drama." She looked around. "Love what you've done with the place. When your decorator was done, did he whip a little girl and her house to the Land of Oz by any chance?"

Angel continued to gape. "How are you….you're…"

"Dead? Yeah, you, too, buddy, so don't go pointing fingers. But it seems like the Powers that Be decided I needed to rejoin the world of the, well, mostly living. Something about your complete inability to function without me. I could've told them about that."

Angel stood, walking slowly to Cordelia. He stopped in front of her, reaching out with his hand and tentatively touching her face. When he confirmed she was real, he grabbed her, pressing her against him tightly.

"Um…not so dead I don't need to breathe," Cordelia squeaked. "Think maybe you could cut down on the vampire-strength squeezing?"

Angel pulled away, his hands still resting on her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm just…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Cordelia pulled back from him. "I just want to state right now that I am none-too-pleased with you. I was getting along quite well in the Higher Realms this time, until someone had to go and completely ignore my warning."

"But I didn't," Angel said. "I re-found my focus. I got back on the mission."

Cordelia's expression turned sad, wistful. "No, you didn't."

"I did! I…"

Cordelia reached out, stroking his cheek. "I always knew these obsessions of yours would get you in trouble, Angel. They make you so blind, make it so you can't see anything around you. Sometimes you just have to let go. You have to learn what you can have, and what you can't."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. Fred…Wes…they weren't supposed to die."

"But they did. Your obsession with Wolfram and Hart, it overshadowed everything. I thought…I thought you'd learn, but you didn't. You let it destroy everything."

"Can I…can I fix it?"

"Maybe. I don't know. But you're going to have to let go, Angel. You're going to have to learn to do that."

"I can. You'll…you'll help me, won't you?"

Cordelia smiled, taking his hand. She'd never seen Angel this vulnerable, and she wanted nothing more than to offer him the comfort she knew she couldn't really give him. "Of course I will. It's why I'm here now."

Angel let go of her hand and sunk back down to the floor. Cordelia sat beside him, her arm wrapped around his shoulder. They sat in silence for a long while before Angel finally spoke. "I killed them. I killed Wes and Fred."

"They made the choice to join Wolfram and Hart, too. They knew the dangers."

Angel shook his head. "They were following me. They trusted me, and I let them down." He turned to Cordelia then, resting his head against her shoulder as he began to cry, the loss and the pain that had been building up inside him forcing its way out.

Cordelia held him, stroking his hair silently.

*** *** ***

Buffy sat up moving her neck from side to side to work out the kinks from spending the night in a less-than-comfortable chair.

"Good mornin', sunshine."

Buffy stretched as she looked over at Spike sitting up in the hospital bed. "Good morning yourself," she replied. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. Been trying to figure out how exactly you got yourself contorted into that position in that chair to sleep."

"Slayer flexibility. Have any doctors or nurses been in?"

"Nope."

Buffy stood. "I'm going to see if I can find one, and hopefully we can get out of here. I don't want to be stuck in a hospital any longer than I have to be."

"Technically, pet, I'm the one who's stuck. You're free to leave at any time."

"I'm not abandoning you in the hospital, Spike. I'll be right back."

Spike nodded and watched her go. He wondered to himself what it meant that she had been by his side ever since he'd somehow become human. She'd even let the hospital staff think she was his wife. Did she want to pick up where they'd left off in Sunnydale?

Spike pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Nothing would make him happier than spending this newfound life of his with Buffy, but he knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. This was merely her looking out for an old friend—nothing more.

Spike settled back against his pillow, waiting for Buffy to return.

*** *** ***

Angel woke up on the floor. Alone. He sat up, rubbing his face for a moment before looking around. "Cordy?" When no one answered, he frowned and called again. "Cordelia?"

Nothing. Not even her scent remained. Angel sighed. He must have dreamed it all.

Slowly, he forced himself to his feet. He could hear activity in other parts of his hotel, and knew that the Slayers were still here, regrouping from their last battle.

A battle he'd caused.

Angel shook his head. No. It had been inevitable. A confrontation with Wolfram and Hart had been in the cards. All he'd done was sped up the deal.

He straightened his clothes, hoping that his late-night rampage hadn't made him look too un-presentable. It was times like these that he really wished for a reflection.

Angel walked out into the hallway, almost immediately running into Willow. "You're still here?"

Willow frowned. "Yeah, nice to see you, too."

Angel looked sheepish. "Sorry. Just…rough night and I haven't had my morning cup of blood."

Willow gave him a half smile. "Right. Well, I won't be here much longer anyway. I've been helping with the Slayer healing, but now that Kennedy's safe to move, we'll probably head on out."

"Kennedy?"

"My girlfriend. She's one of the Slayers. She got hurt pretty bad in the fight."

Angel frowned. "I'm sorry."

"She's going to be okay. She's a tough one."

"Slayers tend to be. Speaking of, has anyone heard from Buffy?"

"She called about an hour ago and said that she and Spike were leaving the hospital. They were going to get some breakfast and then head over here."

"What time is it?"

"Around eleven."

Angel nodded. "I think I'm going to go back and get a little more rest. It's a bit early for a vampire still."

Willow smiled. "All right. We'll let you know if you're needed for anything."

"Thanks, Willow."

"Well, good to see you again, Angel. You know, when I'm not trying to stick your soul back in you."

"Yeah, you, too. Hope Kennedy starts feeling better."

"Me, too."

Angel went back into his room, deciding maybe he wasn't as ready to face the day as he'd thought. Running Wolfram and Hart had forced him to get used to a more human type of sleep schedule, but now he just wanted to rest, if only because it meant he'd be alone.

The disappointment over waking up without Cordelia when their conversation the night before had seemed so real was almost tangible, and his run-in with Willow had only compounded his loneliness. Buffy and Spike were out somewhere, having breakfast together. They'd most likely walked through the sunlight to get to the restaurant, and Spike would be nourishing himself with something other than blood. Angel could picture Buffy sitting with Spike, smiling and laughing as they shared a nice, human meal.

Angel found his mattress across the room from what remained of his bed frame, and dragged it to a clear spot on the floor. He lay down and stared up at the ceiling, wishing more than anything that he could take back the moment that he signed away his destiny.

*** *** ***

Spike closed his eyes, fearing for his newly-regained life. The only thing that kept him from panicking was that he had come to the conclusion that the Powers that Be wouldn't have gone through all that trouble to restore his life only to kill him again within forty-eight hours. Still, he held on for dear life.

When the danger finally passed, Spike let out a deep breath, muttering a thank you to any god who may have been listening at the moment that he'd made it out of that alive.

"I don't think I'm in this parking space right. Do you think I should…"

"No!" Spike yelled, white with fear at the mere mention of Buffy restarting the car's ignition. "We're good!"

"But…"

"We're fine. Just please, give me the keys and get out of the car."

Buffy frowned. "Why do I have to give you the keys?"

"Because I'm driving home."

"You can't! You don't have a license. I do. Well, an Italian license anyway. Do those still count here?"

"Buffy, I've been driving without a license since before you were even born."

"Yes, but now you can't just eat the cop if you get pulled over."

"So I'll have to rely on my good looks alone. And possibly get one of the license things. You think they give them out to former vampires?"

"We'd have to get you a new identity," Buffy replied. She stared forward, out the windshield. "Would it be a California one?"

"California what? Identity? I think the accent might blow that cover."

"No. I meant the license."

"Oh. I…I don't know. Probably."

Buffy handed him the keys, her eyes not meeting his. "Here. Let's go inside."

"Are you all right, luv?"

"I'm fine," Buffy said, looking at him again and giving a slightly too cheery smile. "You have the keys. I'm not driving anymore. Let's get something to eat." Before Spike could respond, Buffy opened the car door and stepped out, slamming the door behind her. She frowned at her parking job, but didn't say anything about it. When she heard Spike shut the door on his side, she looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the bright morning sun. "Hit the lock button twice."

"Huh?"

"The thing on the keychain—with the buttons. Point it towards the car and press the one with the closed padlock twice."

Spike did what she said and heard the locks of the car click, followed by the horn sounding once. "Bit more high-tech than the DeSoto," he said. "She didn't even have automatic locks. I guess those cars I kept 'liberating' from Peaches could do that, but I never could figure out all the gadgets on those things."

"Whatever happened to the DeSoto anyway?" Buffy asked.

"It's still too painful to talk about," Spike replied. "So are we going in or not?"

"We're going." Buffy started towards the restaurant, only to realize that Spike had stopped walking after only a couple of steps. She turned sharply. "What are you doing?"

"The parking lot back at the hospital was covered. I didn't even think about it."

"Think about what?" Buffy asked. Spike pointed up towards the sun. "Oh," Buffy replied, providing the answer to her own question. "You're basking in the non-flammable UV goodness."

Spike looked down at the ground, a boyish grin on his face. "Look, my shadow. Haven't seen much of him lately."

"Well, there was that time you had the Gem of Amara…"

"Yeah, until somebody had to go and steal it."

"Hey! You were trying to kill me."

"Oh, like you weren't having just as much fun as I was."

"I was not! I was…" Buffy stopped in mid-sentence, laughing at the expression on Spike's face that clearly said "yeah, right." "Okay, fine. Maybe a little. I always did enjoy fighting you more than anyone else."

"Mutual, pet."

Buffy moved closer to him, stopping with only about a foot between them. Spike reached up, running his fingers through the front of her hair. "There was one thing I never forgot about that day," he said.

"What was that?" Buffy asked, her voice trembling right along with her knees.

"How beautiful you are in the sunlight." Spike leaned in, and Buffy felt her breath catch as his lips almost touched hers. Suddenly, he pulled away. "So, breakfast? Been sort of wasting my human taste buds on that hospital food."

"Right. Breakfast it is," Buffy said, not sure if what she was feeling was relief or disappointment. She followed Spike into the restaurant, neither of them stopping again until they were inside.

*** *** ***

"Do you want a little coffee with that sugar?"

Spike gave Buffy a dirty look as he ripped open another sugar packet and dumped it into the mug. "Over a century of dulled taste buds, Slayer. Bitter and I are not friends right now."

"I wonder if you'll have the same problem with spicy. You maybe have to give up the chicken wings."

Spike's expression switched to one of horror. "If that's the case, then I'm getting myself re-vamped, no questions asked. Life just wouldn't be worth it without the spicy Buffalo wings."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You're pathetic—you know that, don't you?"

"It's not my fault that you can't appreciate fine chicken wings," Spike replied.

"And you're a little insane, too."

"You're here with me. What does that say about you?" Buffy responded to his question by sticking out her tongue, to which Spike replied with a chuckle, "No advertising unless you plan to use it, kitten."

Buffy blushed a deep red, suddenly finding the inside of her coffee mug very interesting. "Saying things like that to throw me off is cheating, you know."

"Yeah, but it's fun, too."

Buffy looked up slightly, giving him a smirk. "Evil."

Spike ran his tongue along his teeth. "Always, baby."

For a moment, their eyes met, and Buffy felt a shiver run up her spine. She hadn't seen this man in over a year, and yet he still had the power to affect her with just a look. And that thing he did with his tongue… Buffy wasn't sure if she hated it or loved it. She was the first to break eye contact, turning back to her coffee.

"Are you examining that coffee for demonic activity?" Spike asked after a moment.

Buffy's head shot up. "Huh? No, I just… No."

Spike ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry if I made things awkward. Wasn't going for that. I'm just so used to the banter with us, I guess I forgot for a moment that things are different now."

"What is this?"

"What's what, Slayer?"

"This," Buffy said, gesturing in front of her. "What we're doing here."

"Uh, I could be completely wrong, but I thought this was us having breakfast."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant."

"It's what you asked."

"Would you stop being all avoid-o guy? You keep getting all flirty, like in the parking lot with the hair touching and the comment about how beautiful I am in the sunlight, and…and then just now with that damn tongue thing! But then you go all cold, and you tell me that things are 'different.' What's going on in that bleached head of yours, huh?"

"I don't know! I see you, and god, you're so beautiful it makes me ache. I really never thought I'd see you again, but here you are, so close I can reach out and touch you. But I can't. Things are different, Buffy. We're different. A lot has changed in a year, and we can't pretend like it hasn't and pick up where we left off. I don't think I even want to. What is there for us anyway but to go our separate ways?"

Spike's words made Buffy feel cold. What had he meant by that last part? "Do…do you not want to be a part of my life anymore?"

"Where would I fit in? It's not like you need me to scratch your itches now. Got yourself a new bloke for that."

"You were more than just an 'itch-scratcher,' Spike. You know that."

"Do I?"

"Dammit, how could you not?" Buffy asked, starting to get angry. "I told you as much in the Hellmouth before you had to go and try to tell me what I was feeling!"

"Is that what you feel now? Do you love me?"

Buffy was silent for a moment before she finally said, "I don't know."

"That's what I thought. You don't need me in your life anymore. You don't even need me fighting by your side anymore. You have a whole army for that." Spike looked down at his hands. "I don't think I even could anymore. I'm probably as useless as Xander in a fight now."

"You mean more to me than just another fighter by my side, too. You…you understand me, Spike. Better than anyone ever has—probably better than anyone ever will. You've always had a way of looking at me and just knowing, of telling me truths about myself that even I haven't realized yet. I've always been able to hide myself from everyone, Spike—even from me. But not from you. Never from you."

Spike looked at her, his head tilted slightly as he regarded her so intently for a moment that Buffy grew nervous. Finally he spoke, "But where does that leave us? You call me up every now and then when you can't figure yourself out?"

Buffy started sliding out of the booth then, anger clearly written on her face. Spike reached out and grabbed her hand before she could leave. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"The bathroom," Buffy snapped.

"Don't run off like this."

Buffy snatched her hand away. "Don't tell me what to do."

Spike pulled away, letting her go. "Fine."

Buffy let her expression remain angry until she was safely alone in the bathroom. It was then that her face fell, and the tears that she'd been holding back came to the surface. She didn't want to admit it, but Spike was right. She couldn't expect him to fall back into how things were before with him centering himself around his love for her, be it requited or not. He had a life now—a real life­—in Los Angeles, and she'd started to put down roots in Italy. And of course there was the issue that they'd both skated around—she was currently involved with someone else. She couldn't rightfully expect him to want to throw away whatever it was he had for him here just to be what to her: An ally? A friend?

He hadn't even bothered to call her when he'd been brought back. Clearly, there was something here that he'd rather be doing than going back to her. She could understand that, respect that—but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

She'd long since begun to take Spike's love for her for granted. He was the one constant male figure in her life, the one who did not waiver, even when she tried to push him away. Even when she'd told him to move on, Buffy had secretly coveted the belief that he never would.

But he had. He'd moved on and left her behind. She knew it wasn't fair of her to expect anything else, and that she had to accept things as they were. She had to be mature about it, give Spike what he wanted, even if that meant she had to let go. She wiped her eyes, steeling herself again before she went back to the table.

The food had already arrived, but Spike hadn't started eating. He was frowning, and when Buffy sat down again, she could practically feel the nervousness rolling off of him. She forced a smile to her lips. "You didn't have to wait for me, you know."

"I know, I just… Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we were sort of arguing, and then you took off, and I thought…"

"Nope, we're good. Things got a little heavy, and I needed a moment, that's all."

"So you're not cross with me?"

"Nope. Are we going to eat or not?"

Spike was still frowning as they began their breakfast, but decided not to press things. Instead he allowed Buffy to make idle chat with him throughout the meal, pretending that nothing had gone on before.

*** *** ***

As they walked out of the restaurant, Spike looked over at Buffy and felt a sudden grip of panic. There was nothing to keep her here. She'd be going back to Italy soon, possibly with the next twenty-four hours. After that, he might not ever see her again. He needed something—just a day, even if it turned out to be a day to say good-bye. "Buffy?"

Buffy stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"Can we maybe not go back to the hotel yet? I want to stay out for a little while. This…this could be the last day."

"The last day for what?"

"Me being human," Spike said quickly, mentally kicking himself for coming that close to telling her what was really on his mind.

"Why do you say that?" Buffy asked with a frown.

"We have no way of knowing if this is permanent. Tomorrow I could wake up dead—again. If that is the case, well, I'd rather remember spending this day in the sunlight than cooped up in Angel's hotel answering a million questions."

Buffy thought for a moment. She'd have to go back to Italy soon, back to her new life. What if this was the last chance she ever had to spend time with Spike? "All right. Day out in the sunlight it is."

Spike grinned, feeling a bit of relief. "Let's get going then. Don't want to waste any of the day."

Buffy followed him to the car. She didn't want to waste any of it either.

*** *** ***

They ended up at the Santa Monica Pier. Spike found a place to stand, looking over the ocean, watching the sunlight as it danced over the water. Buffy watched him, smiling at the awe and delight that was apparent on his face at something so simple. She reached up, touching his arm. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I haven't seen the ocean like this in so long. It's nice at night, but it's not the same. When I was little—when my father was still alive, and my mum wasn't so sick—we'd go to the seaside during the summer. The first day there, I'd always stay out the whole time, despite my mother's complaints and the fact that I'd end up resembling a lobster. Never much wanted to go in the water, but I loved watching everything, taking it all in. Just being out there in the sunshine."

Buffy felt her heart tug at the thought of Spike as a child, visiting the beach with his family. "Have you missed it? I mean, all these years have you been wishing you could see the sun again?"

"Sometimes. Didn't much with Dru. Thought I'd found something better." The bitterness in his tone when he spoke of Drusilla surprised Spike as he felt a sudden swell of anger at his sire for what she'd taken from him. As a vampire, he'd seen what Drusilla as having given him a gift, but now that he was human again, things looked a little differently. Still, if Dru had never turned him, then he wouldn't have met Buffy. Even with all the bad things that had happened in his relationship with the Slayer, he wouldn't trade a moment of it.

"Was it better?"

Buffy's voice pulled Spike back to the moment. "Was what better?"

"When you were a vampire—with Drusilla. Was it better than this?"

Spike looked at Buffy, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Nothing's better than this, luv."

Buffy's eyes widened, and Spike could hear her heartbeat speed up. He knew if he kissed her then that she'd kiss back, but he didn't know what would happen after that. He wanted nothing more than to live this new life he'd been given with the woman he loved, but for the first time in such a long time, he was afraid to take a chance. What if she tossed him aside like she had before? He didn't think he could handle that again, not now. If he was going to have Buffy, he wanted all of her. He pulled back and said with a shrug, "Guess I'm done with the whole vampire bit. Might as well enjoy this new living in the sunlight thing."

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, wondering if she'd merely imagined Spike almost kissing her. She tried to cover up the moment, the feelings going through her too unsettled to deal with. "The sunlight's a good look for you," she said. "Even if it does make you hair almost blinding to look at."

Her comment broke the tension between them, reinstating the precarious camaraderie that they're been sharing since Spike had woken up in the hospital. Spike turned, looking past Buffy's head. "Come on. Let's go on that."

"On what?"

"That," Spike replied, pointing.

Buffy's eyes grew wide as she realized what he meant. "Oh no. Ferris wheels are among the things that are not mixy with Buffy."

"Aw, come on Slayer. You can't tell me you're scared of a Ferris wheel."

"I'm not scared! They just make me…uncomfortable. Besides, why do you want to get on it anyway?"

Spike shrugged. "For the view. I wanna see how the sun lights up the world."

"Fine," Buffy said, deciding she couldn't deny him that. "But if I throw up, it's sooo your fault."

"Lighten up, kitten. Be fun for once in your life."

"Hey! I'm fun! I'm lots of fun!" At Spike's raised eyebrow she asked with uncertainty trembling in her voice, "You never had fun with me?"

"Well, there was some fun to be had," Spike replied with a leer, letting Buffy know exactly to what he was referring. Then he added, "But as far as just letting yourself have a good time with me, no. We were more about secretive, guilty meetings in the dark."

"We're not in the dark anymore."

"No, we're not."

Buffy looked down. "I had fun with you sometimes—when I let myself. And not just the kinky kind of fun."

"Yeah? When?"

"There…there was that night with the kitten poker."

"You were drunk out of your gourd, Slayer. Besides, you told me that night 'sucked' if I remember correctly."

"I know I said that, but it didn't really. Okay, maybe parts, but there was some fun, too. I…I wanted to be with you, you know. I wanted to do things with you, let you be more like a boyfriend, but I was afraid."

Spike didn't say anything for a moment. He'd never imagined that Buffy had ever considered him as actual boyfriend material. He wanted her to be with him, to have her heart belong to him as much as his belonged to her, but the idea of say, going on actual dates with Buffy had never really entered his mind. But now that it had… Spike pushed the thought aside. Just because she'd felt that way back in Sunnydale certainly didn't mean she did now. He wondered for a moment if the Immortal took her out like that, and he felt the bile rise in his throat. "Don't know how well it would've worked anyway," he said. "Would've been sort of hard to hide us from the Scoobies if we were out on the town."

"Yeah, well, that's another thing I regret—keeping us a secret like that."

Spike placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "No point on dwelling on it right now, pet. Let's just enjoy our day, shall we?"

Buffy gave him a bright smile, and Spike couldn't help but feel his heart soar. "Sounds like a deal to me," she said.

*** *** ***

Angel paced his room, looking every bit the part of a caged animal. Buffy and Spike should've been back already, and the knowledge that they weren't infuriated him. He couldn't believe that Buffy would be so naïve as to just accept Spike becoming human. Didn't she know that this had to be a bad thing? There was no way that the Powers would reward Spike like that. To consider him worthy of that level of redemption… It was ridiculous.

Angel knew something evil had to be behind this. For all they knew, Spike had made some sort of deal with the Senior Partners, probably just so he could trick Buffy into thinking he was worth trusting and steal her away from Angel.

He kicked a piece of his bed frame. This was not the way things were supposed to happen. If Buffy didn't see how bad this was, well, he'd have to tell her—and make sure she listened.

Spike would not get his destiny, or his girl. Angel wouldn't allow it.

*** *** ***

"See, this isn't so bad, is it?"

Buffy tightened the grip she had on Spike's leg. "It's very high, and I really wish this thing we're sitting in didn't keep shaking. It feels like we're going to tip out."

"We're not going to tip out," Spike said.

"We could. Wouldn't that be embarrassing—a Slayer being done in by a Ferris wheel." Buffy frowned. "Maybe it's a demonic Ferris wheel."

"It's not a demonic Ferris wheel. Just relax, enjoy the view."

"But we're up so high…" Buffy hated to admit it, but ever since she'd leapt from Glory's tower, high places had not been on her list of favorite things.

Spike put an arm around her. "No need to be nervous, Buffy. I'm here—I won't let anything happen to you."

Buffy was amazed at how his touch could manage to calm her and excite her at the same time. She looked over the side, squeezing Spike's thigh as she fought off the vertigo. She leaned against him, admitting to herself that the view from the top was pretty neat.

Spike, for his part, was beginning to regret this little idea of his. Buffy's scent was assaulting him, and that coupled with her nearness was driving him crazy. He'd thought that her scent wouldn't still affect him like this now that he was a human, that it wouldn't be this strong. But it was the same as it had always been, still calling to him. He fought the urge to turn and bury his nose in her hair.

He could feel Buffy's nervousness draining from her as she settled down beside him. He tried to get himself to relax as well. This could be the last time he was this close to Buffy, the last time he was surrounded by her glorious scent. At that thought, he tightened his arm around her.

Buffy felt the hold Spike had on her strengthen. Being in his arms again, even like this, was setting her emotions into a tizzy. That small voice in the back of her mind that always seemed to throw its two cents in where Spike was concerned was telling her she should throw him off of her. But she didn't want to listen to that voice this time. She wanted to be in Spike's arms. She'd spent a year thinking he was dead, a year believing she'd never be near him again, and now…

Buffy felt the tears rolling down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying.

"Why are you crying, luv?" Spike asked.

"You." Buffy felt Spike's grip loosen, but she held on to him before he could manage to slip away. "No, wait. Let me finish. I…I thought you were dust, and here you are, and I can touch you…"

"And that's a bad thing?"

"No! For all your swagger, you can be really insecure sometimes, you know that? It's just a big emotional thing, and…" Buffy placed her head against him. "You're here, and you're real…oh god, Spike, you're real."

"Yeah, I guess I am."

Buffy kept crying, even as the ride came to an end, and Spike led her over to a bench. He held on to her, quietly reassuring her until she finally looked up him, wiping at her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go all weepy girl on you."

"As long as the tears meant you're happy I'm back, then it's all okay, pet."

Buffy laughed, lighting punching his arm. "Of course I'm happy you're back. And I would've been just as happy it I'd heard about it months ago, too."

Spike looked at her sheepishly. "Yeah, I knows I was a right git about that."

"Damn straight."

Spike brushed the last of her tears out of her eyes. "You were the first thing I asked about when I popped out of the amulet, wanted to know if you were all right. I tried to get back to you then, too, but I couldn't. And then when I could, well, I got scared, Buffy. I was afraid that you really hadn't meant it when you said you loved me, and that maybe you wouldn't be all that happy to see me. Angel said you were doing well in your new life, and I was afraid I'd just be an intrusion."

"Oh, Angel said, huh? I barely talked to Angel after the Hellmouth closed, Spike. We went to L.A. immediately after to regroup, and I gave him a brief description of what went down, but that was it. No one wanted to trust the new CEO of the Law Firm of Evil, myself included. Anything Angel knew about my 'new life' was reported back to him by his spies. I guess he figured with all the money he was getting from Wolfram and Hart he could finally get someone to do his stalking for him."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Spike said.

"I still haven't gotten over him agreeing to run that place. What was he thinking? I mean, taking evil down by joining forces with it? Is he a complete idiot?"

"Yes, actually. I don't know what all that forehead does, but it certainly isn't storing any brain matter."

"It’s to shield his beady little eyes."

Spike gaped. "Did you just agree with my Angel insult—and then add to it?"

"Yep, sure did." Buffy's mood darkened again. "Some of my girls are dead because of him. His damn stunt with Evil Inc. almost brought on an apocalypse."

"He had other reasons for it, too." Spike thought for a moment that maybe he shouldn't spill his grandsire's big secret to Buffy, but then he remember how much he hated the guy. "Not sure on the specifics, but it turns out he had a son with a resurrected Darla. The kid got raised in a hell dimension, came back all wonky in the head, and Peaches made a deal with Wolfram and Hart to try to give the boy a normal life, or some such rot. Erased everyone's memory of him and had a new life fabricated for his son."

Buffy's jaw fell, and for a moment she said nothing at all. When she did speak, the best she could come up with was, "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. Apparently there was all sorts of badness surrounding it, too, with Wesley trying to get the kid away from Angel because of a buggered up prophecy claiming Angel would make the kid a light snack."

"And you say Angel erased everyone's memory of everything pertaining to his son? That, too?"

"Yeah."

"How convenient," Buffy muttered.

"What do you mean, pet?"

"I don't know… Just, well, if there was badness, and Angel made a deal with evil that made it all go 'poof…' Convenient in a creepy, wrong sort of way."

Spike frowned, thinking about how Wesley had said something about how Angel had seemed more willing to let Connor die than let the memories he'd had erased be released. "You think it was more about Angel than Connor?"

"I can't say for sure since I don't know the whole story, but knowing what I do about Angel, I'd say yes. He's much more likely to try to gloss over problems than actually face them. And hey, if it 'never happened,' then it's one less thing to weigh down his guilt-ridden soul." Buffy punctuated the last setence with a roll of her eyes.

Spike's brow knitted. "Since when were you so down on Angel, Buffy?"

"I'm not really down on him, I'm just…seeing him a little differently these days. Although I hope he at least learned from this." Buffy looked down for a second before looking back up, and Spike could see a hint of insecurity in her eyes. "Did I know he had a son before he did the memory wipe, or did he keep it from me?"

"Dunno, pet. Never came up."

"I don't know which bothers me more—the thought that Angel would keep something that big from me, or that he'd steal any of my memories like that. If something happened to me, I want to remember it."

Spike stroked her hair, hating the fact that Angel still had the power to put that look in Buffy's eyes, even after all she'd seen him do, that he could reduce her to the unsure little girl she'd been with him in the past. Sometimes he wanted to shake her, make her see what he really was, but he had long since given up on erasing all the love she felt for the other man. "I'm sure which ever one it was, he wasn't trying to hurt you," Spike said, not sure why he was defending Angel. He figured it was because he didn't like seeing Buffy upset.

Buffy put on her best smile then, taking Spike's hand. "I really don't want to talk about Angel anymore right now. We were supposed to be having fun, right?"

Spike smiled back, deciding it would be best just to leave things there for now. He knew that there were several unfinished conversations in the exchange they'd just had, but he didn't want to ruin this day. "Right. Ready to get to it, pet?"

"You betcha." Buffy and Spike stood, their hands still intertwined.

*** *** ***

Chapter 6:

Spike and Buffy had been gone for hours, and Angel was sick of waiting. He stalked towards the door, determined to find them and put an end to all of this.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Angel turned sharply, staring at the woman now standing in his room. "Cordelia?"

"The one and only. And again I ask, where are you going?"

"Spike and Buffy have been gone all day. I have to find them."

"Um, in case you haven't noticed, it's a little bright out there. Unless your method of finding them involves being a flaming pillar of dust, I suggest you stay in."

"I can go through the sewers."

"So you're what, going to wander around the L.A. sewer system trying to catch a glimpse of them somewhere?" When Angel frowned but said nothing, Cordelia continued. "Buffy doesn't need you to be her protector, especially not now."

"But Spike is probably out there putting the moves on her again. He isn't right for her!"

"Not your decision to make."

"He mystically transformed from vampire to human in the middle of a battle with Wolfram and Hart. That can't be a good thing."

"Wasn't it at the end of the battle—an apocalyptic battle?"

"It wasn't the Shanshu, Cordy."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"Because it's Spike!"

Cordelia sighed, crossing her arms in front of her. "Vampire with a soul, fought in the apocalypse, stop me when I get to something that sounds Shanshu-related here."

"But I'm the one who worked for it! I spent years earning the right to that prophecy.—and years before that suffering because of what I'd done as Angelus. Spike's had a soul for what, five minutes, and he's Shanshu worthy? Not possible."

"Have you completely forgotten you signed it away?" Cordelia asked, arching an eyebrow. "Which, might I add, was just a stupid thing to do."

"It was my destiny! That shouldn't have mattered! You can't change a prophecy!"

"It didn't change, Angel. The prophecy was fulfilled the way it was always meant to be fulfilled."

Angel stared at her. "What?"

Cordelia took his hand. "We all have our destinies, Angel. This was Spike's. Yours lays elsewhere."

"I can't accept that! I'm the vampire with a soul!"

"And now you're back to being the only one. The prophecy was fulfilled, and the universe has balance again."

"It should've been me."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But that isn't the issue anymore—or the reason I'm here. The Powers made their decision, and it's in the past now. Spike is human, and that can't be changed. It's the future I'm worried about. You've lost the mission, Angel. You lost it the moment you signed that devil's deal with Wolfram and Hart."

"I did that to save Connor. You of all people should understand that."

Cordelia dropped his hand. "But is that even what you did—and is that the only reason why you did it? You were lost. Everything you'd believed in had been turned on its head. Wolfram and Hart swooped down at just the right time, got you when you were weak. They offered you more than just a new life for Connor. Don't lie to me and say that's all it was. I know better than that, and so do you."

"I wanted to bring down Wolfram and Hart—and I did."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I stopped the Circle of the Black Thorn."

"Evil doesn't just disappear, Angel. It goes somewhere else, finds someone new. The Senior Partners are still there. They always will be. There has to be a balance."

"Evil has to be stoppable, Cordy. If it's not, then why do I even fight?"

"You fight because it's the right thing to do."

"That's not enough!"

Cordelia placed her hand gently against his cheek. "You still have a long way to go. You focus so much on redeeming yourself, on atoning for the sins of Angelus. But the past is in the past. You can't change what you did, and you can't make any of it better. You have to focus on what's happening now and what will happen in the future. Trying to change yesterday is pointless, Angel. But working towards tomorrow—that you can do. You don't do good to make up for the bad—you do it because it's right."

"Cordelia, I…"

Cordelia moved her hand down, pressing her fingers against his lips. "No. I can't stay much longer, and I need you to listen to me. You're getting obsessed again, and we both know where your obsessions lead. You let yourself get so wrapped up in things that you don't see the world around you anymore. You can't do that again. Just accept what is. She's going to be happy, Angel. Just let that be enough for you."

"But I worked so hard…"

"And you still have work to do. I'm sorry, but that's the way things are." Cordelia stepped back from him. "I have to go now. Please, remember what I said."

"Why do you have to leave? Why weren't you here this morning?" Angel reached out for her, but stopped before he actually managed to touch her. "If you're here now, why can't you stay?"

"I just can't yet. I'm sorry. I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else, but now isn't the time. It was hard enough for me to get here this morning, but I knew you needed me. So don't make this all a waste of my time. Be the champion I know you are." When she finished speaking, Cordelia faded from view.

Angel touched the spot where she'd been but felt nothing. He wondered if maybe he'd lost his mind, if he'd been pushed to the point of hallucination. Cordelia was just as gone as she'd been that morning, not even a trace of her scent remaining.

He didn't leave the hotel room.

*** *** ***

Spike wasn't sure what had possessed him to do it. He'd seen the "Test Your Strength" game, and he'd been too curious not to. He had to see what he was capable of, now that he was human. Test the waters a little.

And he'd gotten his answer—in the form of a smashed strength-tester. The initial shock of the worker at what Spike had managed to accomplish had allowed him and Buffy to sneak away before questions—or demands that Spike pay for the damages—began.

But now he and Buffy were sitting in an uncomfortable silence, too many questions to ask and not enough answers. Buffy spoke first, and her comment sounded lame even to her own ears.

"You're stronger than human."

"Well, yeah," Spike replied, his hands fidgeting on top of the picnic table that separated them.

"Did you know that was going to happen?"

"Think I would've done it if I'd known?"

Buffy frowned. He had a point with that. "But…you're human now. You're in the sunlight, and your heart is beating, and…and your skin is warm. You're human. Humans can't do what you just did."

Spike looked down at the table. Andy loved Maria. Keith had been there in '02. "My senses are still heightened," he admitted softly.

"And you're just now telling me this?"

Spike's head shot up. "I wasn't sure until now, all right? They've been heightened for 125 years, Buffy. It took me a bit to realize that that shouldn't be normal anymore. And I still wasn't sure if they were or if, well, if it was just you."

"Me?"

"Your scent, it's always been so strong to me. And don't make that face about it either. It's…it's a good smell. I thought maybe you were just having the same effect on me you always did, but then other things were stronger than I thought they should be, too, and that strength thing—I needed to test it. I needed to know."

"Are you still a vampire?" Buffy asked. "Did you get a mystical equivalent of the Gem of Amara?"

"I don't think so. Like you said, my heart's beating. I tried to hold my breath a few minutes ago, and it made my chest burn. My body has been behaving like a human's this whole time—not a vampire's. I don't know what's going on anymore than you do."

"I guess we should get back," Buffy said with a sigh. "We need to look into this."

Spike's eyes shifted back down to the table, his finger tracing the carved letters. "I know. I just don't want to."

"Me either. I've…I've been having a good time out with you. But we need to."

He looked at her again. "I know. Do you think maybe we could not go to the Hyperion? All the Slayers might still be running around, and it's bound to be a mess with all the…"

"With all the Angel being there?" Buffy asked with a small smile.

"Yeah."

"Is there some place else we could go?"

"I have an apartment."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. Did you honestly think I could live in the same building as Peaches?"

"No, I just…well, I never pictured you in anything but a crypt. Or an old abandoned factory…"

"Well, I think the crypt was a little nicer than this place, but it serves its purpose."

"Does it have a phone? 'Cause I'm going to need to call Giles."

"Yes."

Buffy stood up. "We'll go there then. I think I'd rather keep a low profile about this right now anyway, at least until we know more about what's going on."

"Me, too."

Spike stood beside Buffy, his hands in his pockets. "Let's go back to my place then."

*** *** ***

"Sorry it's so, well, basement-like," Spike said as he led Buffy into his apartment. He was happy to see everything as he'd left it, since after the way things had been going, he'd half expected it to have disappeared. "No windows, but that used to be a plus as far as I was concerned."

"It's cheerier than my basement was."

"And the bed is bigger, too. Although not by much," Spike replied, gesturing towards his bedroom.

"You have me in your apartment for under a minute, and you're already showing me your bed."

Spike's eyes widened. "Buffy, I didn't mean, I…I'm…"

Buffy laughed. "I'm teasing you, Spike. I knew what you meant. I remember how tiny that cot was, too. Not that I minded at the time…"

"So, um, you wanted to call Giles?" Spike asked, not wanting to go down that particular branch of Memory Lane. Things were complicated enough as it was.

"Yeah. Where's the phone?"

"In the bedroom—by the infamous bed."

"Right. I'll be right back."

As Buffy went off to call Giles, Spike went to the fridge, glad to find his beers where also where he'd left them. He popped the top off one and started to drink it quickly, when he realized he had no idea the effect it would have on him. Did his semi-vampiric abilities extend to alcohol consumption, or would he get drunk at a human rate? He figured he'd have to test it, but now wasn't the time. Instead he sat at the table, slowly nursing the drink as he waited for Buffy to come back.

"Giles is getting on the first plane to L.A.," Buffy announced when she walked out of the bedroom.

"How'd he take the news?" Spike asked, still seated.

Buffy leaned against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her. "He reached for his glasses so fast he dropped the phone. And that was before I told him you had retained some of your vampiric traits."

"So not well then?"

"Not well exactly, but not bad either. He just took the news…well, like Giles."

"Lots of 'oh dears?'"

"Interspersed between the 'good Lords.'"

"Good to see some things stay the same."

"He won't be here until tomorrow sometime," Buffy said.

"And in the meantime?" Spike asked.

"As much as I really, really don't want to, I need to go to Angel's hotel. It's Slayer Central right now, and I should be checking on my girls. A lot of them were injured, and I've been neglecting them."

Spike glanced down at the top of his beer can. "I'm sorry. That's my fault."

"No, it's mine. I put you first—and I don't regret that. They had people watching over them. But I do need to go over there, get a damage report. I'll come back here as soon as I can."

"You don't have to…"

"I know. I want to."

"No word to Peaches about this, right?" Spike asked, glancing up again.

"My lips are sealed. He'd just, well, make things more complicated."

"That's an understatement to beat all understatements, pet."

Buffy smirked. "Wait for me here, okay? I'll be back."

"Nowhere else to go," Spike replied.

Unable to stop herself, Buffy walked over, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you soon, Spike."

As she turned and walked to the door, Spike's hand went up to touch the place her lips had just left. "See you soon," he repeated.

Buffy glanced back and gave him a smile before leaving.

*** *** ***

I know you've got something to say. Review please. :-)

Also, this fic is nominated in the Dark Moon Awards. Check it out here: http://www.geocities.com/valepuiguy/thedarkmoonawards

Next