Chapter 25:

All Buffy could do was stare at him. “You—you have Doyle’s heart? You wrote this letter?”

He nodded, tears spilling freely down his cheeks, unchecked. He didn’t try to hide them from her as he had before, he was laid out and bare for her to see.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, trying to latch on to at least one of them that was running through her mind and focusing on it. But her mind, her mind was reeling and she didn’t know what to do with the information.

Spike though, Spike was able to do something. He pushed himself from the wall he’d been leaning against and stood straight. “I—I have to go—“

She knew that wasn’t the answer, that much she could latch on to. “No, Spike—“

“I can’t, Buffy,” he said hoarsely, not even able to look her in the eye, “I can’t.”

“Please! Just – let me—“ she pleaded.

“What?”

She stared at him, her vision blurred from tears.

“What?” he shouted and she jumped.

Moving forward as if in a dream, she reached out to him, caressed the side of his face, gazing up into his blue eyes filled with tears and glided her hand down his neck, his arm and finally across his chest and over his heart. She stared at her hand, stared at it as it lay over his heart. Doyle’s heart. And she sobbed.

*********************

Spike couldn’t take it. He just couldn’t. Seeing that letter, seeing the letter he wrote to Buffy, to his donor family – it was too much.

And it was unfair. So horribly unfair.

Buffy’s loss was his gain; he was happy because he got a new heart and a new life, and in order for him to get those things, someone had to die – why, God, why did that someone have to be Doyle?

The last person on God’s green Earth he ever wanted to see in pain, the one person he loved beyond reason and only wanted to make smile, was the one person who had to lose so he could gain her.

It was so unfair.

He’d been propelled to tell her, it had crossed his mind to keep it from her, but he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t do it, if not for the raw reaction to finding out he had Doyle’s heart, then because he simply could not lie to Buffy.

The walls had been closing in on him, and breathing was becoming a problem. He had to go, he couldn’t – he just couldn’t deal.

He pushed himself from the wall he’d been leaning against and stood straight. “I—I have to go—“

“No, Spike—“ she said on a hoarse whisper.

“I can’t, Buffy.” Christ, he couldn’t even look at her. “I can’t.”

“Please! Just – let me—“ she pleaded.

“What?” he demanded, his flight response screaming in his ears.

She stared at him, unmoving and saying nothing.

“What?” he shouted, impatient. She jumped and he felt guilt for scaring her.

He watched her glide toward him, her hand reaching out. She caressed the side of his face, and he nearly broke into a sob. God, she was touching him and looking up at him, looking at him in wonder and awe and . . . love? Then her hand was moving, moving down his neck, his arm and finally across his chest and over his heart. She ceased looking at him. Ceased looking up at him and was intently staring at where her hand was. Over the scar he’d been so afraid to show her, over the mark he’d felt so self-conscious about on so many levels, over his heart. No, not his heart. Doyle’s heart. Doyle, the man she loved. The man she’d been married to and lost . . . lost and now found again.

And she sobbed.

With a cry, he turned and ran, leaving her there to mourn Doyle all over again.

**************

He was gone so fast Buffy couldn’t stop him. Not that she knew what to do or even say anyway.

Doyle’s heart in Spike. That was the only thought in her mind. Spike that she made love with, Doyle she’d been married to. Doyle that she loved, Spike that was here because of him.

“Buffy?”

Looking up, she saw Faith staring there, concerned and worried, “What’s going on? I just saw Spike; he tore out of here like a bat out of hell. Did you have a fight?”

Could she tell Faith? Should she tell Faith? She was after all Doyle’s sister and she deserved to know. “Faithy.”

“Buffy, you’re scaring me, what’s going on?”

“Remember how I told you that Spike had a heart transplant?”

Faith nodded slowly, “Is he sick? Is his body rejecting the heart?”

“No, Faithy, I got a letter today.”

“From who? Dammit, Buffy, you’re freaking me out!”

“I got a letter today from a heart transplant survivor thanking me for Doyle’s heart. Faithy, Spike has Doyle’s heart.”

Faith burst into tears immediately and Buffy’s concern was comforting her. Yes, yes, comfort Faith. That would give her something to focus on.

Faith held onto her tightly as she cried. “Did he know? Did he know all this time?”

“No, honey, he didn’t know until I showed him the letter.”

“Is he – is he mad?”

“I don’t think so. I think he’s . . . I don’t know how he is,” Buffy said, giving into a fresh batch of tears. “I didn’t know what to say to him. All I could do was . . . was touch his heart.”

“Did it – did it feel different?”

“No, that’s the thing, I think . . . I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel Doyle. I was waiting to and I didn’t. I wanted to and I felt guilty for Spike for wanting to and guilty for Doyle and . . . I didn’t feel him.”

“Buffy, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know, Faithy, I don’t know. It’s like he’s living on, and yet, he’s not.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” But even as she said it, she knew. She was going to make another trip to Doyle’s grave. The only thing she wasn’t sure of was if she was going to make it alone, or if she was going to take Spike with her.

***************

Rupert Giles opened the door to his home to find his nephew Spike standing before him, looking a mess. “Spike? What’s wrong, son?”

“R-remember that girl I told you about?”

“Yes, Buffy, is it?”

Spike nodded.

“Spike, what is wrong? I’ve never seen you so upset, come in, would you?” and he grabbed his arm, dragging him in the house.

“Rupert—Spike! Oh my God, what’s wrong? Are you all right? Is it your heart?” Aunt Jenny went directly to him, folding him up in her tiny arms. “What is it, darling?”

“I have Buffy’s husband’s heart,” Spike said mournfully. “He died and . . . I’m alive.”

“Dear God,” Giles breathed and Aunt Jenny just held onto her poor, broken nephew and let him cry his eyes out.

Chapter 26:

“What are the odds?” Aunt Jenny mused on a murmur as she handed Spike a cup of cocoa.

“My bloody lot in life to never do anything right,” Spike muttered and sipped on his cocoa. When he put his mug down, Aunt Jenny whapped him upside the head.

“Jenny, honestly,” Uncle Giles started.

“That’ll teach him to say such things!” Aunt Jenny said defensively. She looked at her nephew sternly. “Now you listen to me, Spike,” and she leaned forward, getting right in his face. “There is nothing wrong with you. You do plenty of things right – living, being one of them. You have a big heart and a beautiful soul. You know why you’re not dead? Because you have so much to offer this world; the angels themselves would weep if you left. So do not sit here and tell me that you can’t do anything right. You bring that girl joy—“

“Not anymore,” Spike muttered.

“It was a shock. It wasn’t as if she were going to shrug it off as if it meant nothing. You said she tried to stop you—“

“Yeah, only so she could put her hand over –“ he broke off. “She put her hand over my heart and it was like she . . . like she was trying to get to him through me.”

“Spike,” Uncle Giles began, “It was a natural reaction for her to do that. Anyone in her place would have done the same. It does not mean that this enhances or takes away anything she feels for you. You don’t know, you simply do not know. And you won’t by running from her.”

“I didn’t want to stick around to find out if she hated me or just wanted me around because I have his heart!” Spike shouted and jumped up. He started to pace, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought I was doing this good thing, I wanted these people to know what was given to me and all this time . . . all this time I was given something that Buffy had to lose in order for me to get it.” He stopped and stared wide-eyed at his aunt and uncle. “What if that’s the only reason I felt a connection to her? What if,” he shook his head, forlorn, “What if his heart needed to be with her and I’m just the body along for the ride?”

“Oh, poppycock,” Uncle Giles dismissed that idea with a wave of his hand. “Spike, it’s an organ. The organ itself does not have feeling.”

“Then why does it hurt?” Spike asked on a whisper.

“Spike, your heart is not Doyle’s, not any longer,” Aunt Jenny told him. “It’s yours. If you want to continue down the mystical path, then maybe that heart was always yours and Doyle had to –“

“Don’t say that!” Spike exclaimed. “Don’t say that,” he shook his head. “I would hate to know that someone Buffy loved had to die in order for me to be with her. No, I refuse to believe that.”

“Then for heaven’s sake, stop thinking that his heart had to be with her, and you’re just the body!” Aunt Jenny exclaimed back. “Spike, honey, things happen in life that don’t always make sense. There’s tragedy and heartache and pain; however, on the other side of that is joy, love and harmony.”

“You sound like bloody Hallmark card, Aunt Jenny.”

“Listen to me, young man,” she demanded sternly. “What happened is a coincidence, a large coincidence, I’ll give you. It was a horrible thing what happened to Buffy, but Spike, honey, you had nothing to do with it. You were a young man in a hospital waiting for a heart. Logic says that someone had to die for you to get that heart. You knew the reality of it going into it. You had no way of knowing that heart belonged to Doyle. You didn’t know who Doyle was, and, you didn’t know that a year later, you’d meet and fall in love with his widow. She had no way of knowing either, she knew he was a donor, but she probably didn’t know that his heart had been given, probably didn’t even think about that in her grief.
What matters now is how you both move on from it. How you deal with it, accept what happened, and move on with your lives. You could get yourself tripped up on the what- ifs and weigh every side from the mystical to the practical, but that’s not what’s important. The important thing is how you both work through it, and that you do it together.”

Spike gazed mournfully at his aunt. “I’m not ready to see her yet.”

“You’re afraid,” Uncle Giles observed. “You will have to see her eventually, Spike.”

“I’m just not ready yet, Uncle Giles. I can’t.”

“Then you can stay here until you can,” Aunt Jenny assured him.

************************

“Buffy, do you think that this was Doyle’s way of staying with you beyond the grave?” Faith asked as they sat, curled up on Buffy’s couch sharing a pint of chocolate ice cream.

“Well, he was quite superstitious, but . . . honestly Faithy, I don’t have an answer for that. Let’s say that there are other forces at work here—supernatural forces, if you will. If that were the case then wouldn’t I have somehow ‘felt’ him? I mean . . . all this time with Spike, I never ‘felt’ Doyle here. The only time I felt Doyle was when I told him I was seeing Spike. But that wasn’t a ‘hey, I’m here with you through him’ type of thing, that was a ‘I’m here, but I know you’re moving on and it’s okay.’”

“So then, you just answered my question. You don’t think it’s Doyle’s way of staying with you beyond the grave.”

Buffy dumped her spoon in the ice cream and jumped up. “I don’t know!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration. “I’m just. . . I’m confused and I’m . . . . in shock and the coincidence just blows my mind and I don’t – know . . . “

“Buffy, do you love Spike?”

Buffy froze and stared at Faith, making like a guppy.

Faith raised a brow, “Well, do you?”

“I – I –“

“Buffy, how did you feel when you realized Spike had Doyle’s heart?”

“I wanted to see if I could feel him.”

“Doyle?”

“Yes.”

“And when you didn’t?”

“I think I – “ she started to cry, “I think I felt guilty.”

“Why?”

“Because the look on Spike’s face – he was hurt. He – I think I hurt him.”

“And that hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“But not feeling Doyle didn’t hurt you?”

“It – I – I don’t want Doyle here in that capacity. I want Doyle in a happy place – in heaven. Not because I don’t love him still, I do, but because I do love him, I want him at peace. He wouldn’t be at peace here like this. And if he were here, I’d know. He’s not. It’s his organ inside of Spike, but it’s not Doyle.”

“Do you love Spike, Buffy?” Faith asked again.

Buffy swallowed and said nothing.

Faith jumped up. “Buffy, it’s okay to say yes. Doyle knows. Maybe he planned it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe he was looking down from his spot in heaven and picked Spike. Maybe he was up there watching Spike, wanting to see who got his heart, ya know? And, he liked what he saw. We did say we thought he’d like Spike. So maybe he gave things a little push.”

“Anya? Can you explain that?”

“Well, he always did have a wicked sense of humor, and, I suspected that he only put up with Anya for you, but could have done without her.”

“Sounds like Spike,” Buffy said dryly.

“See? Buffy, after you placed your hand over his heart and didn’t feel Doyle, your thoughts after were not of Doyle, but of Spike and how you might have hurt him. Buffy, you can say it. You love him.”

“I’m afraid,” Buffy admitted, on a slight whimper.

“Why?”

“Because what if saying it means Doyle somehow disappears?”

“See, Buffy, this is not about Doyle’s heart. This is about your fear of saying you love Spike.”

Buffy nodded, placing her hand over her mouth and letting out a sob.

Faith wrapped her up in her arms. “Buffy, Doyle loves you and I’m so certain that he would not want you to be alone. I’m also so certain that you will never forget him and that he will not disappear. He’d haunt you if you ever did.”

Buffy started to giggle through her tears.

“It’s okay to love Spike. Hey, who better to have permission to love the bleached wonder than Doyle’s sister?”

Both girls started to giggle and Buffy hugged her tight. “Thank you.”

“So, can you say it?”

“I – I love Spike.”

“Say it one more time. With feeling.”

“I love Spike,” Buffy said firmly.

“Now, don’t you think you should tell him that?”

Buffy nodded, “Yes, you’re right.”

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Both heads swiveled to see an annoyed looking Anya standing in the door. “You were supposed to have called, Buffy.”

Buffy sighed, “Sorry. Something came up.”

“Obviously. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Buffy sighed, “You might want to sit down for this one.”

Chapter 27:

Anya appeared impatient, as if she didn’t have time for this, as if this was a set-back in her busy day and couldn’t take the two minutes to hear what Buffy had to say.

Buffy remained calm, but Faith wanted to haul off and deck her. She’d wanted to hit her for a while now, so it wasn’t a big surprise, but the more irritated Anya became, and the more calm Buffy remained, the more Faith wanted to hit Anya.

Granted, she hadn’t reacted the best when she’d found out that Buffy was interested in Spike, but, Doyle was her brother, so of course she had something to say; something to feel about it. And yes, Anya had been dating Spike, but the things that Anya had said to Buffy: Bringing Doyle into the mix and making it seem as if Doyle would be disgusted with her – that was unforgivable. As was making Buffy out to be some crybaby. She’d lost her husband for Christ’s sake, and not just any man, but the greatest man Faith had ever known. The only man she’d ever trusted.

For Buffy’s sake, Faith left the room quietly to get a drink. She was keeping her ear out though. If that bitch said one wrong thing to Buffy, she was out on her ear.

*******************

“Buffy, stop stalling already. Just tell me what’s going on,” Anya demanded, annoyed.

Sitting next to Anya, she bit her bottom lip and placed her hands in her lap. “Okay, well, see, Spike had a heart transplant—“

Anya’s eyes popped open, “Get out! He did?”

Buffy nodded, “He’s sensitive about it—“

“No shit, the bastard never told me!”

“He’s not a bastard,” Buffy said, trying to be calm no matter how much that remark made her want to snap at Anya.

“So – God, that’s why he never wanted to take off his shirt! Because of that scar—“

“There is nothing wrong with that scar,” Buffy said vehemently.

Anya shrugged, “So, is this it then?”

Buffy shook her head, “No. Well, partly. Spike has Doyle’s heart.”

Anya’s jaw dropped, “You mean when Doyle donated . . . and Spike needed. . . Oh my God.”

“He’s pretty upset right now and I think I’m partly to blame—“

“What did you do?”

“I was upset. He’d written this letter to the family of his donor – he never knew it was me and I opened it this morning. He came in and well, it came out.”

“Oh my God.”

Buffy nodded, “And I put my hand over his heart, trying to see if I could feel Doyle and. . . I didn’t. He left in a rush and he was clearly upset,” Buffy was on a roll now, “But I realized that I loved him and that—“

“Whoa, stop right there.”

Buffy clamped her mouth shut.

“I can tell you right now that there’s no way Spike is going to believe that.”

Buffy blinked, “What? That I love him?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

Anya looked at her as if she were nuts, “Because he has Doyle’s heart, and you were Doyle’s wife! Buffy, if you tell him how you feel, he’s only going to think you love him because he has Doyle’s heart.”

“You think?”

Anya nodded vigorously, “Yes, of course he is! He’s going to think that you’re just trying to be with Doyle through him. And really, don’t you just love him maybe more than before because he has Doyle’s heart?”

Buffy shook her head, “No, I don’t love him more for –“

“So you love him less because he isn’t Doyle? Let’s face facts here, Buffy. You’re never going to be satisfied with anyone that isn’t Doyle.”

“That’s not true—“

“I know how much you loved Doyle, Buffy. Maybe this is Doyle’s way of preventing you from moving on.”

That did it. In the instant that Buffy jumped up from the couch, Faith flew out of the kitchen.

“You little bitch—“ Faith started.

“Faith, stop,” Buffy held up her hand, stopping her sister-in-law. She was in tune to Faith well enough to know that Faith wanted to rip Anya a new one for that remark.

However, Buffy wanted the honors.

“You know Anya,” Buffy began, “I was all on board for feeling guilty for the way things happened with Spike. I was all on board for trying to somehow make things up to you. I’ve pretty much bent over backwards because I felt that I failed you as a friend. I felt as if I betrayed you, and on some level, I did.
However. You’ve betrayed me too. You have taken the things that mean the most to me – my husband and Spike, and used them against me. You’ve used my weaknesses, my pain over losing my husband, and now my love for Spike to get back at me; to single me out, to make me alone, and to make me miserable.
Oh, you tried with Riley. But it was on your terms, and the way you sang him praises all night I wouldn’t have been surprised if you fucked him yourself. Everything has to be on your terms. At first, I needed someone to help me get through the day, and I truly was grateful for that help. But now . . . I’m done.
Your ploy to keep me from Spike won’t work. I have a lot more faith in Spike, than you realize. And, he has a lot more faith in me than you ever have. I’m done being your little pet project, I’m done trying to bend over backwards to save this friendship. You don’t control me anymore, Anya. And all those things you said about Doyle, is wrong. He would want me to be happy. He wouldn’t keep me from it. On that note, I think it’s best if you leave.”

Anya jumped from the couch in a huff and opened her mouth to say something, but Faith, darling Faith, stood beside Buffy and shot her a menacing look. Anya clamped her mouth shut, grabbed her purse and strode out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

“B, that was awesome!” Faith exclaimed. “You were straight to the point, but you weren’t nasty, you were all . . . diplomatic.”

Buffy laughed, “The complete opposite of what you would have been, right?”

“Got that right. I was ready to knock her teeth down her throat.”

“That felt good, real good.” She let out a huge sigh and shook her body as if she were warming up to work out, “God, I didn’t realize how good that would feel! Spike was completely right. She’s been biding her time all this time to just find a way to separate Spike and I. She’s been waiting for it. And she used this to do it. After all that guilt I felt for everything too! Spike would have been proud.”

“Screw, Spike. Pat yourself on the back and bask in your achievement for a minute.”

Buffy beamed at the brunette and let out a long sigh. “A weight has been lifted. Well, a small one compared to the next task.”

“Spike, right?”

“Yep, Spike. I’ve got a man to get to.“

“And when you do see him? What are you going to say?”

“I think that’s something he should hear first, don’t you?”

Faith smiled, “Yeah, but I’m nosy.”

Buffy tweaked her nose. “You won’t feel neglected if I go?”

“Not at all. Just call me later to let me know what happens.”

“Promise.”

*********************

Two hours later . . . .

Spike wearily climbed out of his car and shoved his car keys into his pocket. He needed to leave his aunt and uncle’s, he couldn’t stay there forever.

Climbing the steps to his door, he spied a body moving out of the corner of his eye on the porch swing.
Buffy.

She was curled up on the tiny swing, her eyes shut, sleeping soundly. Drawn to her like a moth to a flame, Spike ambled over quietly and knelt beside her, smiling wearily at her small form all curled up.

Her eyes popped open as if sensing him. “Spike.”

“Hi, Buffy. How long you been here?”

“What time is it?”

“Four.”

“Two hours.”

“Buffy, you shouldn’t be out here sleeping like this –“

“You waited for me once, remember?”

He nodded, “I remember.”

“You don’t let me run, so I’m not going to let you run.”

“You should,” he said softly.

“No. I love you, Spike, and I need you with me.”

Spike’s eyes welled up with tears and he looked away from her. “Don’t say that,” he whispered.

She frowned and sat up,” Why? I thought you’d be happy to hear that—“

“I am, if you . . . Buffy, it’s not me you’re in love with. It’s Doyle and the idea that Doyle is inside me.”

She shook her head vigorously, “No, that’s not it at all, Spike.”

“Yes it is!” he exclaimed and jumped to his feet. “It’s why you put your hand over my heart and cried like you did…It’s because Doyle’s heart is inside me and you feel you’re reunited with him—“

“Son of a bitch, she was right,” Buffy breathed.

“What?”

“Anya. She said you’d think that—“

“You told her?”

“Yes, Spike, I’m sorry, I know I wasn’t supposed to say anything about your transplant. I just thought that – “

“That what? That since you guys have been ‘so close’ lately, you could just tell her?”

She jumped to her feet, “You ran out on me! I was upset!”

Spike shook his head, “I can’t do this right now, Buffy.”

She poked him in the shoulder, “You don’t have a choice.”

He gave her a look, “Oh really?” he drawled.

“Yes, really. I love you Spike. I love you for who you are, not because of Doyle’s heart. Not because of your heart transplant, not because your parent’s are dead – I love you for you, for who you are for how you make me feel.
Yes, Doyle is gone and yes, you have his heart, and yes a part of me will always love him, but Spike, that’s your heart now.
When I placed my hand over your chest, I admit, it was to see if I could feel Doyle—“

He started to walk away from her and she grabbed his arm, keeping him with her. “Listen to me,” she demanded.

He stopped and sighed heavily, “Buffy, Jesus, just let me go—“

“No. I just found you Spike. I lost someone I loved once already, I can’t lose you too. I won’t. Not when I know how happy we’d be. How happy we’ve already been.”

“It’s not real!”

“Yes it is! Do I need to hit you to get you to listen to me? God, do you realize how incredibly dense you can be?”

Without warning, he started to laugh.

She stared at him, not sure what to make of that. Surely the stress was making him mad.

“My aunt, she hit me upside the head today. Pretty much told me the same thing. It just—“ he shook his head as if to clear it, “Buffy, I never realized you had such a dominatrix side to you.”

She smiled, “Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, yet.”

He looked down. “I have his heart, Buffy. How can you not look at me and think of him?”

“Because I look at you and see you. Spike, when I touched you, I didn’t feel Doyle. Yes, I was upset, I was in shock! It was . . . weird, for lack of a better word. Imagine if the shoe was on the other foot. Imagine someone told you that they had your loved one’s organ. And that’s all it is Spike. An organ. Your organ. No, I don’t think that Doyle is living on inside you, no, I don’t think that this is his way of being with me beyond the grave.” She paused, “Though Faith seems to think that this was Doyle’s way of making sure I was happy beyond the grave, and you know, I’m not superstitious like that. I used to make fun of Doyle for being like that, but I have to say . . . I think she’s right. Doyle is gone, Spike. He’s gone to a better place and I’d rather him there than here in some mystical form.
When I saw the hurt on your face after I did that this morning, I felt so hurt. I felt hurt for you, I felt hurt that I made you feel as if you were just some kind of vessel and that what we’d been through had just been some kind of sign from the heavens that Doyle had been returned to me. My concern was with you and how I’d hurt you.
Spike, please, believe me. I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I was afraid to admit it. I was afraid that if I admitted it then somehow it meant that Doyle would disappear, that I’d forget him. That’s not the case though and I know that now. He wouldn’t want me to wallow in misery and be alone. He’d want me happy and I really do believe now that Faith was right. He sent you to me. He knew we needed each other, he knew we fit. He also probably wanted to stick it to Anya—“

Spike laughed through the tears that were freely falling from his eyes. He stood there, open to him, vulnerable and so open. She couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around him and holding him tight.

“Please say you believe me, Spike. If you want, I can list all the ways I love you. I can tell you how I love the way you secretly listen to pop music, even though you vehemently deny it when I accuse you of bopping to the beat. I can tell you how I love the way you hold me when we’re falling asleep, and how I love how silky your curls are through my finger, how hot you look all greased up from working on the car. I can tell you how I love it when you smile and it brightens my day to see you—“

“Buffy, stop,” he said quietly.

She wouldn’t let him go though, she held on tight, afraid he was going to turn her away, afraid that her actions that morning had ruined it all; afraid he didn’t believe her.

“Do you believe me?” she whispered.

“Can you look at me?”

“I’m afraid to.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid you’re going to turn me away.”

“Why would I do that?”

She felt a smidge of relief begin to spread through her. Just a smidge though. “Because you still have it stuck in your thick head that I only love you because of Doyle.”

“Are you saying I’m stubborn?”

“Nah, not at all.”

“But if I were . . . you love me for it though, right?”

“Absolutely. Course, I’ll tell you that now and then years from now when you’re being stubborn I’ll tell you how I always hated it.”

He laughed, “Will you now?”

“Yep. And then you’ll tell me how you always did think I was a bit of a crybaby, but never wanted to say anything because you wanted to get laid.”

He laughed harder, his body shaking in her arms and she giggled.

“Buffy, seeing as how you have our future arguments planned already, can you look at me now?”

Without releasing her hold on him, she leaned back slightly and looked up at him, up into the brilliant blue eyes of the man she’d come to love.

He smiled at her and Eskimo-kissed her. “I believe you, Buffy. It’s . . . not easy still, but I believe you. I love you so much and the thought of losing you—“

“Future arguments planned, remember? You won’t lose me.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

He pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair, “I thought I was going to lose you,” he whispered hoarsely.

“You thought wrong.”

“It’s all so… surreal, you know?”

“I know, but we’ll work through it—“

“Together.”

She nodded, “Together. Spike?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Can you kiss me now? I’ve gone all day without—“

He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers in a hungry kiss, a kiss that poured his relief and love, and some residual fear that he could have lost her.

“Can we go inside and--?” She asked, breathless.

“Oh, God, yes. But, before we do . . . I have to tell you that you’re wrong.”

“Blasphemy! About what?”

“My heart . . .it’s not Doyle’s and it’s not mine. Buffy, my heart is yours.”

“Oh, you are so getting laid right now, buddy.”

Laughing, he swept her up in his arms and started for the door.

Epilogue:

Three years later

Standing in the middle of the attic, Buffy bit her bottom lip and pondered where to put the new influx of boxes. Turning slowly in a circle, taking in the boxes that seemed to have multiplied over the years, her eyes fell on the distant corner of the room.

Doyle’s things sat there; in the same home as after he’d passed.

Gliding forward, a small smile graced her lips and she knelt before the box of photos and opened it, taking an album out. She flipped through the pages, memories rushing back to her, memories she never forget, but didn’t dwell on the way she had once upon a time. Not that she didn’t miss him, she did, she always would, but it was different now. She could look back on memories of Doyle with a smile, think about those good times they’d had and not sob at the drop of a hat over them.

“There you are.”

Looking up, Buffy smiled at Spike who was making his way to her.

He kept his gaze trained on hers and sat down next to her. “Thought you’d got lost up here, pet,” he told her.

“I got distracted,” she said nodding to the photo album.

He nodded and looked down at the picture she’d fell on, a picture of Doyle smiling simply at the camera.

“Hey fella,” Spike said to the picture. He said it easily, as if he and Doyle were best friends and had just spoken the day before. She remembered the day she’d brought him to Doyle’s grave to ‘introduce’ him for the first time. He’d wanted to go when they’d first gotten together, but after finding out he had the man’s heart, that had made Spike a little gun shy about it. He wanted to do it, but he was still nervous about it. As he had explained to Buffy, he not only had the man’s heart (to which she said the heart was his), but he had the man’s girl too. However, once he got going, Spike was chatting away to Doyle with ease. And, he’d accompanied her since then when she visited to plant new plants or just to check in and say hi. He even asked Doyle’s advice on a few occasions on how to handle her. Not a good thing to do when she was standing right there, but she supposed that was his whole point.

“You don’t mind?”

He shook his head, “Why would I mind, kitten?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Sides, this is where it all started, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she agreed, “It is. Up here in the attic.”

“When Anya brought me home.”

She smiled at that and rested her head on his shoulder. “Did you get to see Justin Junior when she stopped by?”

“Nope, he was in his car seat, napping. Justin senior was with him. She said she’d come in and have a cuppa later with you.”

“She so different now,” Buffy mused. “Who ever would have thought that Anya would have settled down? She’s married now. She has a kid.”

Spike nodded, “Yep, and her kid and our kid play together.”

Buffy smiled, “Maybe they’ll –“

“Don’t say it. While I’m glad that Anya grew up and got over us being together – while I’m even gladder that you made her grovel in order to win your forgiveness, I do not want our Madison having Anya as a mother-in-law. She might have backed off from controlling you, but something tells me she won’t be so kind to Maddy.”

“I think Maddy can hold her own.”

“You are her mother so yeah, anything’s possible.”

Buffy swatted him playfully, “Hey, you give as good as you get, mister.”

He grinned and tilted her face up to his. “I sure do,” he murmured and kissed her sweetly. “I ever tell you how I wanted to take you in my arms the first time I saw you up here?”

She shook her head, “No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

Leaning up, she kissed him sweetly and murmured against his lips. “So, we have the house to ourselves for a few hours?”

He nipped at her lips and grinned, “We’re supposed to be bringing up Maddy’s baby clothes.”

“So you don’t want to have your wicked way with your wife?”

“Oh you know I do,” he said huskily and jumped to his feet, hauling her up.

They rushed to their bedroom, which had once been the ‘forbidden’ room; Doyle’s and Buffy’s room. Now it was “Mommy and Daddy’s room”. They’d redone it together, adding their own special touches together, and making it theirs. Guilt obliterated, it was their room. The guest room had been made into a nursery for Maddy, and, hopefully one day in the future – if Spike had his way – their future son. He wanted more than two kids and was hoping to convince Buffy of that, and if he succeeded, he would have to set about convincing her that they were going to need a bigger house.

Right now though, he wanted to focus on his sweet wife, and making love to her.

“Now,” he moaned, as tore her panties away and dived between her spread legs to make love to her with his mouth, “That’s what I’m talking about.”

She giggled and ran her fingers through his curls. Within seconds, she was close to the edge, but he wanted inside her first. Discarding his pants quickly and tossing off his shirt with ease, he pulled her sundress up and off and sank easily inside her warmth.

She let out a contented sigh and wrapped her arms around him. “Mmmm…” she moaned, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Princess.”

She wrinkled her nose and then moaned as he angled his hips just so and hit her g-spot. He was really good at that.

“What was that look for?” he asked, on a slight grunt.

“You call Maddy ‘Princess’. That didn’t sit well.”

Chuckling, he thrust forward again, causing them both to groan.

“My heart? My love? My girl?” he murmured, peppering her face with kisses.

“All of the above,” she whispered and came apart in his arms.

Following soon after, Spike collapsed against her and then immediately rolled them to their sides, where he kept them joined.

“So,” he began, Eskimo-kissing her, “What do you say about having another one?”