Author: Cariann

Rating: PG 13

Spoilers: None

Summary: A follow up to The Sweetest Revenge. In the years that follow Spike's departure out of her life, Buffy tries to move on, but Spike makes it hard for her.

"Me neither. I have to go to Martinique," Buffy declares, her heart pounding in her chest. **He's not dead.**

"What?" Willow asks shocked. "Buffy that isn't a good idea."

"I have to. He sent this for a reason, and I want to find out what that reason is."

"Buffy, you were letting him go. Do you really want to reopen all that Spike makes you feel, makes you remember?"

"I didn't reopen it. He did by sending this tape," Buffy argues.

"Maybe it wasn't Spike," Willow hopefully suggests.

"Who else could it be, Will?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask Giles."

“No, I'm going," Buffy declares her mind made up.

"Buffy," Willow starts.

"Will, I'm going. Nothing you can say will make me change my mind," Buffy firmly states. "I have to see him."

Buffy grabs a suitcase, and starts throwing clothes into it.

Defeated, Willow weakly asks, "Want me to come?"

"Nope, I'm going alone," Buffy declares.

She throws a few last things in her suitcase before snapping it closed. "Tell Giles," Buffy stops to think, and then continues, "Tell Giles something, but not the truth, and I'll call you when I get there."

Buffy grabs her suitcase, and starts to walk out.

"Buffy," Willow calls to her. Buffy turns around, and Willow continues, "Be careful."

Buffy smiles, "I will," and then she is gone.

Part 2

Buffy sits on the plane to Martinique trying to piece together what it all means. **Spike sent me that song for a reason. I'm not exactly sure why, but I think he wants me to understand something.**

The words of the song haunt Buffy. **"Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage. Then someone says what is lost can never be saved." "Nothing but an animal…and what do you want, I want to change." "And I still believe I cannot be saved." **

Buffy has waited a year for this. She has waited a year to see Spike again, to try to make things right. **This has to be his way of coming back to me.** A nagging thought in the back of her mind told her it might also be his way of saying good bye, but Buffy clung to the hope that it was his way of reentering her life.

When Buffy lands in Martinique, it is still daylight. She takes a cab to a local motel. It's not the best motel there is, but it falls into her price range. She checks in, and goes up to her room to rest before she starts searching for Spike.

Her room is small. It contains one double bed against the wall, and next to it a nightstand with a phone, and clock. A desk sits directly opposite the bed. There's no TV, or decoration on the wall. **This is depressing. I need to get a better paying job.**

Buffy unpacks her suitcase, and then grabs the phone book from the drawer. She lies on her stomach on the bed, and flips through the phonebook. **Okay, Spike isn't going to be listed, not that I know his last name anyway, but I can find some clubs, or what not that Spike might go to. Bars. When he's depressed he drinks like a fish.**

Buffy writes down the addresses of a few bars, and clubs in the area. She glances at the clock, and sighs. Fatigue overwhelms her, and she drifts off to sleep. It's still three hours until sunset.

Buffy wakes up a few hours later. She stretches out on the bed, and thinks of Spike. She thinks about his blue eyes, and how they danced wickedly when he teased her. She thinks about his cold, smooth hands, and how they felt on her body. She thinks about the way he never called her Buffy. Instead, he called her baby, or pet, or luv, or his favorite, slayer. She sighs when she thinks about him making love to her. **I have to find him. I need to find him.**

Shaking away her thoughts, Buffy gets up to go take a shower. After she gets dressed in a simple light blue slip dress, Buffy calls Willow.

"Hey Will, I'm here."

"Did you find Spike yet?"

"I haven't even started looking. I took a nap, and the sun is just going down."

"How are you going to find him?" Willow asks.

"I'm just going to go out, and look. I'll ask around, and just see what I can find."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, I think I'm going to need it. I'll call you tomorrow," Buffy promises before hanging up.

Buffy leaves her room, and starts walking through the streets of Fort-de-France, the capitol of Martinique. The Caribbean breeze blows her loose hair. **I wish I had time to enjoy this place. It's beautiful.**

She enters the first club on her list, and looks around. It's a typical tourist club, playing corny American tunes, and filled with vacationers. Buffy quickly exits, knowing Spike would never go there.

She continues her search, and by midnight she has gone to four clubs, and three bars. She hasn't seen Spike, nor did anyone she asks know of him. Ready to give up, Buffy turns back towards her motel.

On her way she passes a quaint little French restaurant. The sign says closed, but Buffy peers inside, something drawing her there. A young man, who is sweeping the floor, notices her, and opens the door.

"Miss, we're closed," the boy tells Buffy. He is about eighteen years old, with short dark hair, and green eyes. He's dressed in simple khakis and a white polo shirt.

"I know. I was just looking. It's a nice place here. I'll have to come back tomorrow," Buffy starts to walk off, but the boy calls her back.

"If you're hungry, I was just going to eat. You could join me, if you want," the boy offers.

“I don't want to intrude," Buffy answers turning back around, her stomach growling.

"No intrusion, I promise. I'm Vincent, and I would like very much if you would join me."

Buffy smiles. "Okay, thanks."

Buffy walks into the restaurant, and Vincent pulls out a chair for her. "What's your name?" he asks.

"Buffy."

"Buffy?" he questions.

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing. I've just never met anyone named Buffy before."

"I've never met anyone named Vincent before," she smartly replies.

"You got me. So, Buffy, what are you doing in Martinique?" Vincent asks sitting across from her.

Buffy hesitates before answering, "Vacation."

"With family?"

"No, alone," she answers looking away.

"You don't want to talk about it do you?"

"Not really."

"Okay, well then I will tell you that I am here on vacation as well, only with my family. Before you ask, we come here every year, and I work here because I'm friends with the owner. Plus it beats hanging out with my parents all the time."

"I can understand that."

"So Buffy, what would you like to eat?" Vincent asks.

"Whatever is fine," Buffy answers.

"Be right back," Vincent says before disappearing into the kitchen.

Buffy stands up, and walks around the restaurant. She looks at the picturesque pictures of Paris on the wall. She stands in front of one after another, thinking how nice it would be to go to Paris. Vincent comes back carrying two plates.

"Looks like there isn't much of a choice. I hope you like chicken," he says walking over to her.

"I do," she smiles. "These pictures are really pretty," she comments as she sits back down.

"Yeah, I never really paid attention to them before. Paris is beautiful though. Have you ever been?"

"No, actually this is the first vacation I've ever taken."

"Really, I've been all over, and God could that sound anymore conceited, and snobby."

Buffy smiles at him. "I would love to travel, especially to Paris."

"You should go one day. It's well worth it."

"So Vincent how is it that you have traveled so much?"

"My parents are loaded. My great great grandfather made a ton of cash somehow. No one really knows how, so I'm guessing it was illegal. Anyway, my dad is in investments, and well, he invests very well."

"So you're one of those rich kids."

"Please, don't stereo type me. I'm not a bad guy. I don't hang out at country clubs, and talk about the stock market. Money's nice, and all, but I could live without some of the stuff that comes with it, especially boarding school."

"You go to boarding school?"

"Yeah, in Switzerland no less. How's that for snobby?"

Buffy laughs, "So where do you live when not on vacation, or in school?"

"Connecticut, you?"

"Sunnydale, a small, evil town in Southern California."

"Never been there myself, but I have been to LA."

"I used to live in LA before we moved."

"What's it like in Sunnydale?"

"Hell," Buffy jokes before continuing, "but it's like any other town. I go to the local college, and hang out with my friends."

"Sounds like a nice life," Vincent comments.

"It's nice, but not as nice as traveling all over the world, and hanging out in country clubs," Buffy teases.

Vincent grins, and they spend the rest of dinner in pleasant conversation. Buffy tells him about her friends, school, and her life in general in Sunnydale, minus the slayer bits. Vincent tells her about school, and where he's been. Towards the end of the meal, Vincent tells her he's taking a trip to Prague later this year.

"Have you ever been there before," Buffy asks.

"Once," Vincent answers.

"What's it like?"

"Old," he answers, "a lot of old buildings, and churches. I went when I was twelve on a class trip. It felt like I was transported to centuries far gone."

"I guess that's why he liked it there," Buffy unconsciously comments.

"Who?" Vincent asks confused. Buffy looks up at him. He can see the pain in her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up painful memories," he apologizes.

Buffy sighs. She decides to tell him why she is really here. After bottling up her emotions for so long, they come pouring out.

"Spike. He lived in Prague for years. That's why I am here. I heard he was here, and I'm trying to find him," she answers tears forming in her eyes.

"Lost love?"

"Yeah. He left a year ago."

"You still miss him?"

"Terribly. I hate how things ended. It was just circumstances neither of us could control, and he left before I could tell him that after everything I still loved him more than anything."

"How come you think he is here?"

"I got a package from here with no return address. I know it's from him, and I just had to see him, but I have no idea how to find him," Buffy finishes hopelessness filling her voice.

"Come back tomorrow morning. The boss here knows everyone. If your Spike is here, he'll know," Vincent offers.

"Thanks," Buffy smiles at him.

"No problem."

Part 3

Buffy is standing on the beach staring out into the ocean. The breeze whips her hair, and she pulls her sweater tighter around her body. The moon is shining down on her making her skin softly glow.

His hands circle her waist pulling her close to him. Her body shivers from his touch. He lowers his head to her ear, and whispers, "I knew you would come."

"I couldn't stay away from you," she murmurs back resting her head on his shoulder.

He entwines his fingers with hers, and whispers, "I love you, slayer."

Buffy looks up into his blue eyes. He smiles down at her before lowering his lips to hers.

Buffy sighs, as she slowly opens her eyes. Instead of looking up at Spike, she is staring at the ceiling of her motel room. Sunlight is streaming in from the window. Buffy groans, and throws her arm over her eyes. **The dream was so real, and kinda freaky. It's almost like the one I had about Angel, and he came back to me. Maybe it's one of my prophecy dreams.**

Buffy smiles before getting out of bed, and heading for the shower. Once she's dressed, she picks up the phone and calls Willow.

"Hey, Will."

"How's the search for Spike going?" she asks.

"Well, I didn't find him last night, but I may have better luck today. This guy I met is going to introduce me to this man who is supposed to know everybody."

"Good, how are you doing?"

"Okay. I'll be better once I find him."

"Good luck," Willow offers.

"Thanks, I'll call you tomorrow before I leave."

"If you don't find him, are you still leaving tomorrow?"

"I don't know," Buffy answers before hanging up.

Buffy leaves her motel, and heads back to the restaurant. After they ate last night, Vincent, and Buffy had talked some more, and Vincent had promised to help her find Spike, and if she wanted to show her around Martinique.

Buffy enters the restaurant, and waves to Vincent. Vincent smiles at her, and walks over. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Pierre. I have to warn you though, his English isn't too good."

Buffy lets Vincent lead her over to an elderly man at the bar. "Pierre," he starts before continuing in French that Buffy doesn't understand.

"He doesn't know anyone named Spike, but asks what he looks like,” Vincent translates for her.

"He's about your height, with bleached blonde hair, and blue eyes. He always wears a leather duster, and he's British," Buffy answers.

Vincent translates to Pierre, and Pierre answers him.

"He says maybe. There was an English guy that came here often. He fits your description, but his name wasn't Spike," Vincent tells Buffy.

"What was his name?" Buffy nervously asks.

Vincent asks Pierre, and Pierre answers. Buffy doesn't need a translator to understand what Pierre calls him. "Monsieur William."

"That's him," Buffy squeals.

"Are you sure?" Vincent asks.

"His name is really William," she answers. "Ask him where I can find him."

Vincent asks Pierre, and then translates his answer. "He doesn't know. He left a week ago, and didn't tell Pierre where he was going."

Buffy's face drops. **He knew I would come after him. He doesn't want to see me.**

"Buffy, Pierre wants to know why you are looking for him. He says William was very private, and didn't want anyone to find him. The only reason Pierre told you is because he's gone now."

"Tell him it's because I love him," Buffy answers tears quietly falling sown her face.

Vincent translates to Pierre, and then tells Buffy, "He wants me to ask you if you know what he is."

Buffy turns to Pierre, and nods. Pierre takes her hand in his. "You know his secret, and still love him," Pierre asks in a thick accent.

Buffy nods again. "I'm sorry, I do not know where he is," Pierre tells her letting her hand go.

"Thank you," Buffy whispers before running out of the restaurant. Vincent chases after her calling her name.

Buffy slows down, and leans against a building sobbing. Vincent puts an arm around her, and whispers, "I'm sorry."

Buffy turns her head, and buries it into his chest. Vincent strokes her back, as she cries. **Spike's gone. Spike's gone. He didn't want to see me. He was saying good bye. He's really gone.**

Finally, Buffy pulls away. She takes a deep breath, and says, "You offered to show me around. Is that offer still good?" Buffy asks wiping her tears away.

"Of course," Vincent answers taking her hand.

Buffy spends the rest of the day, and night enjoying Martinique, and Vincent's company. Buffy is even slightly sad that Vincent lives so far away. She can see herself making it to a second, and third date with him.

Vincent walks her back to her motel as the sun is rising. Buffy's plane leaves in four hours.

"I wish you were staying longer," Vincent tells her.

"Me too," Buffy answers.

"You promise to write me, right?" Vincent asks.

"Yes, and I always keep my promises."

The whole night they hadn't talked about Spike, but now Vincent takes her hand, and whispers, "I'm sorry you didn't find what you were looking for."

Buffy looks up into his eyes. As the night wore on, she had accepted that Spike was gone. "So am I, but I did find something else," Buffy answers.

"What's that," Vincent asks.

"A new friend," Buffy answers before standing on her toes, and placing a soft kiss on his lips. Vincent looks down at her, and smiles.

"I wish things could be different," he sadly says.

"So do I." Buffy turns and disappears into her motel. She has to pack, call Willow, and be at the airport in two hours. Then she can sleep, and cry all the way home.

Part 4

The streets of Casablanca are practically deserted at this time of night. Spike prowls the streets looking for something to take his mind off of Buffy. Everyday since he left her almost two years ago, he has thought about her. Not just idle, random thoughts, but rather life consuming thoughts. He dreams about her, sees her in every young girls face, and hears her in ever laugh. She invades every second of his day.

Spike runs his hand through his hair. He growls when he feels the dirt, and grime from the city. **Bloody hell, why did I come to Africa of all places? To go where the slayer will never follow you.**

The night he left Sunnydale he headed for Mexico. He spent a few weeks there, before hitching a ride to Martinique. Spike liked Martinique. It was paradise. The only problem being it made him long for the slayer. It made him wish she were there to share the beauty with him.

Spike reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a tape. He stares at the tape debating whether or not to send it. He sent the first tape as an attempt to apologize, and to say good bye. It was his way of attempting to have some closure.

His plan backfired big time. It made him think of the slayer more. He wondered what she thought, and felt when she listened to it. He played the scene in his mind over and over again picturing her face as she listened to the tape. He knew she knew it was from him. He wondered if she was mad, or sad, or if she didn't care. He wondered if she ever listened to it again.

He left Martinique out of fear. Fear that Buffy would try to find him. Fear that Buffy hated him, and would want to stake him for what he did that night in the cemetery. Fear that she wouldn't try to find him, because she didn't care.

He puts the tape back into his pocket. He made the tape last week after he heard a song on the radio that reminded him of the slayer. He had gone out that night, and bought the tape. He listened to that song over and over again, and finally made a tape of it for Buffy. He wanted her to hear it. He wanted to know if it made her think of him.

Spike enters a bar, and sits at the counter. He orders a shot of whiskey, and downs it. It burns a fiery trail down his throat. He orders another hoping to numb his mind, and forget about the slayer.

A woman comes up behind him. She's about twenty, and very pretty. Her black hair cascades down her back in tight spirals, and her eyes are darker than the night. The darkness of her hair, and eyes is contrasted by the paleness of her skin, and the softness of her features. She's wearing a deep red velvet shirt, and a long black skirt that falls to her ankles.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asks.

Spike shrugs, and motions for her to take the seat without even bothering to look at her. She sits down, and smiles at him.

She motions to the bartender, and says, "I'll have what he's having."

The drink is placed in front of her, and she drinks it in one gulp. "What's your name?" she asks Spike.

"William," he answers.

"I'm Becca." Spike doesn't answer, or look at her. He lights a cigarette, and inhales deeply. "Not one for company, are you?" Becca asks.

"Not really," Spike answers motioning for another drink.

"Trying to drink your troubles away?" Becca asks.

"Something like that," Spike answers.

"A girl?"

"It's always about a girl, isn't it?"

"Want to talk about it?" Becca offers.

"Not really. I'm trying to forget it," Spike answers downing another shot.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

Spike chuckles, "What gave it away?"

"The accent," Becca replies smiling.

"Yeah, well I'm not really from anywhere."

"A man of the world. Interesting."

"Not really," Spike mumbles taking another drag of his cigarette.

"I don't believe you. There's a story there, and I'm guessing it's very interesting." Spike arches his eyebrow as he takes another drag of his cigarette still not looking at his companion. Becca continues, "What brought you to Casablanca?"

"A ship," Spike dryly replies.

Becca laughs, "Cute. I'm guessing you are running from something. Am I right?"

Spike slowly inhales on his cigarette before answering, "It's useless, you know. No matter where I go it follows me."

“So why do you keep running?" Spike doesn't answer. He crushes his cigarette in an ashtray, and orders another drink. "You keep downing the whiskey that way, and it's going to make it easier for me to have my way with you later," Becca teases.

Spike smiles, and replies, "Maybe I'm the one who's going to have my way with you."

"I wouldn't mind," she purrs.

Spike finally looks at the girl next to him. His eyes shoot open in shock. He stares at her with his mouth open. His hands are gripping the bar so tightly the wood splinters. **Bloody hell. She looks like Drusilla.**

Becca places her hand on his arm. "Are you okay?" she asks concerned.

Spike tears his eyes away from her, and lets go of the bar. He runs his hand through his hair, and mumbles, "Just bloody great."

"Need another drink?" Becca asks.

Spike nods his head, and Becca motions to the bartender to get another drink. "You look like someone I used to know," Spike tells her.

"Someone you used to love?" Becca asks. Spike grabs the drink in front of him, and downs it. He nods his head. "Is that what you are running from?"

Spike lets out a sadistic laugh. "I haven't really thought about her in the past two years. She was my black goddess, my love, my entire world. She left me and I turned into the most pathetic creature imaginable. I loved her for many lifetimes, and now she is a distant memory. Funny how that works."

"Lifetimes?" Becca questions.

Spike looks at her and grins. "Want to hear that story, luv?"

"What story?"

"The one you thought would be so interesting."

"Sure," Becca hesitantly replies.

"Let's take a walk," Spike says as he stands up.

"Where to?" Becca asks.

"Nowhere, just out," Spike answers. He notices the look of fear, and hesitation on Becca's face, and smiles. "Don't worry, luv, I promise I won't bite."

Spike extends his hand, and Becca places hers in his. They walk out of the bar, and through the streets of Casablanca for the rest of the night. Spike tells her the story of his life, and Becca listens in stunned silence.

Just before sunrise Spike finishes his story. Becca looks at him in shock, and doubt as she tries to digest the unbelievable story Spike just told her. A slow smile creeps across her lips, and she bursts out laughing.

"I don't believe you."

Spike smiles, "I didn't think you would. The story of my life can be told in less than a minute. I loved a beautiful dark goddess who left me a shell of my former self. I was devastated, and thought I'd never love again, but then I met a girl who was brighter than the brightest star. I fell in love again, but it wasn't meant to be. She loves someone else, and I did something she will never forgive. So, now I am here trying to escape from the memories."

"You'll love again," Becca promises.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Spike replies.

"You loved once, and lost. You loved again, and lost. Three's a charm right?"

Spike doesn't answer her. Instead he fingers the tape in his pocket. **I will always love you, slayer.** "Do me a favor, luv."

"What's that?" Becca asks.

"Mail this for me," he says handing her the tape.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Just a little something for my lost love, so she doesn't forget I love her," Spike answers.

"I'll mail it as soon as the post office opens," Becca promises.

"Thanks. I have to go," Spike says looking up at the impending sunrise.

"Will I ever see you again?" Becca asks.

Spike looks at her. "Probably not. I'm leaving tonight."

Spike starts to walk away, but Becca calls after him. "William."

Spike stops, and turns back around. Becca jogs over to him. "The story was true, wasn't it?" she asks looking up into his eyes for the answer.

Spike just gives her a wicked grin before disappearing down an alley.

Part 5

Buffy fumbles in her purse for her keys. She is returning from a fun night of dancing with some friends from school. Since returning from her trip to Martinique over a year ago, Buffy's life has dramatically changed.

Buffy, and Willow moved into an apartment near campus at the beginning of their third year at UC Sunnydale. She got a job at a coffee shop. She made new friends at school. She still does her slayer duties, but the new slayer, Amber, takes up most of the slack. Buffy only gets involved when she's needed. She's doing well in school, and has been dating regularly.

She hasn't fallen in love again. She knows she is not ready for that yet, but she has had relationships that last for a few months. They never end badly. They just end when it becomes apparent that they are not going to move to the next level. Buffy hasn't had sex, since that last night with Spike, and she plans to keep it that way until she falls in love.

Buffy walks into the dark apartment, and switches on the hall light. She sets her purse down, and picks through the mail sitting on the table by the door. She tosses the bills, and junk aside, and lifts up a letter from Vincent.

Buffy, and Vincent write to each other religiously. Buffy takes the letter, not seeing the small package addressed to her, and walks into the kitchen ripping open the letter. She grabs a soda, and sits down at the table to read Vincent's latest letter.

Dear Buffy,

Well it's been a year since we met. I can't believe it's been that long. It seems like only yesterday you were standing on the moonlighted beach of Martinique. I'm actually glad I'm at Yale now, and couldn't go with my parents this year. The memories of you would have been unbearable. One day, we'll have to go back.

I hope you're seriously considering visiting me in Connecticut this summer. We'll have so much fun. We can go to New York, Philadelphia, and even Boston if you want. Please, please think about. I would really love it if you came.

I hope you are dealing well with finals. My first year of finals is driving me insane. I live off of coffee, no sleep, and pizza, but don't worry, I'm not all fat, and gross. I would write more, but my calculus final is in an hour, and I'm not quite sure yet what a derivative is, and I'm pretty sure it'll be on the test.

Take care, and write me back soon.

Love,
Vincent

Buffy smiles as she sets the letter down. She grabs her soda, and heads for her room. An hour later, Buffy is in bed reading when Willow comes home.

"Buffy, are you up?" Willow calls.

"In my room, Will," Buffy shouts back.

Willow pops her head in, "Did you have fun dancing?"

"The best. It definitely relaxed me after that art history final today."

"Are you ready for our mythology final tomorrow?"

Buffy pats the book on her lap. "I'm reading about Hercules right now."

"There was a package on the table for you," Willow says, as she holds it out.

"I didn't see it," Buffy says getting up and taking the package. Her face goes pale as she stares at the package from Morocco with no return address.

"Buffy?" Willow asks.

"It's from Spike," Buffy quietly says.

"Oh Buffy, I didn't know," Willow apologizes putting her arm around Buffy in comfort.

Buffy unwraps the package revealing a tape. "A musical message again. This is starting to piss me off."

Buffy walks over to the stereo, and pops the tape in. She presses play.

Buffy pushes stop, and slams her fist into the stereo. The stereo is crushed under her strength. She removes her bloody fist from the ruined machine.

"Why the fuck does he do this?" Buffy yells, tears streaming down her face. "I was getting better. I was letting him go. Why does he have to torture me like this?"

Buffy breaks down into sobs, and Willow wraps her arms around her. Buffy continues to sob, and eventually collapses onto the floor. Willow sits next to her, holding her head in her lap as she cries. **"However far away, I will always love you."**

When Buffy's tears subside, Willow quietly asks her, "Are you going to Morocco?"

Buffy stands up wiping the tears from her face. "No. He doesn't want to be found. If he wants to see me, he knows where I am."

Part 6

The streets of Moscow are crowded with people. Spike watches them hurry by from his third story window. Bored, he picks up his guitar and sits on the window ledge. He idly strums a few random chords before picking up a familiar melody. It's the melody he has been working on for weeks. He sings the words in his head as he bends over the guitar. The door opens, and slams. Spike doesn't look up, but continues playing.

"Would you please stop playing that damn song already," Becca shouts.

Spike looks up at her and glares. He continues playing. Becca walks over to him, and yanks the guitar out of his hands. Spike grabs her arm.

"Give it back," he growls.

"Or you'll what? Bite me?" Becca mocks ripping her arm from Spike's grasp.

"I don't know why I haven't eaten you yet," Spike replies through clenched teeth.

Becca just rolls her eyes, and sets the guitar on the table. Spike looks back out the window sulking.

Becca had followed him that morning six months ago in Casablanca. She had begged him to let her go with him, because she had nowhere else to go. Spike had finally relented after much pleading, promises, and tears. He was actually glad she came with him. They had left that night, and then spent the next three months traveling through Europe living it up. Finally, they had settled in Moscow, and had been there for the past three months.

Becca was like a little girl in a candy store. She was fascinated with everything everywhere they went. She reminded Spike of Dru in so many ways. For one, she looked like Dru. She also giggled, and ran about like a child. She treated Spike like he was the best thing in this world, and let him take care of her. He lavished her with presents, and attention, and she accepted them all. She doted on him as much as he did her.

Spike was never one to like solitude, and he was grateful everyday that Becca was with him. The feelings were never romantic. She was like his little sister. They bickered, and laughed, talked, and cried together. Spike had someone he could take care of. She was someone who needed him, and someone who understood him, and his love for Buffy. He needed that more than anything right now.

"I should never have bought you that guitar," Becca says.

When Spike doesn't answer her, Becca walks over to him. She kneels at his feet. "Send her the tape," she whispers.

"I shouldn't. I should let it go," he answers still looking out the window.

"But you won't. You can't." Spike sighs, and leans his head against the window. "William, why don't we go there? I'm tired of Russia. It's so depressing. We could leave tomorrow night. I've never been to California," Becca suggests.

Spike looks down at her. "I can't."

"Why? You love her. That has to count for something in her eyes. William, stop being afraid."

"When are you going to stop calling me William?" Spike asks trying to change the subject.

"When I can call you something less absurd then Spike." Becca grabs his hand. "William, let's go."

Spike looks down at Becca. Her dark eyes are silently pleading with him.

"I almost killed her. Everything I did was a lie. She never loved me. She loved who I was pretending to be. Who I am, is the animal that raped, and drank from her."

Becca shakes her head, and grasps his hand tighter. "That's not true. She didn't fall in love with the act. She fell in love with what's in here," Becca says placing her hand on his heart. "You are like an open book. You can't hide the real you. You can't hide what you feel."

Spike removes her hand from his heart. "It doesn't even beat."

"Spike, when are you going to stop blaming yourself for what you are?"

"You just called me Spike."

Becca rolls her eyes. "I know you're afraid. I know you're afraid that she doesn't love you, but she did love you knowing what you are. She didn't care then, so why would she care now?"

"Because I tried," Spike starts, but Becca interrupts him.

"Only because you loved her. If she's as great as you say, she understood. William, what if she's sitting somewhere thinking of you right now. Wondering why you don't want to be with her. Thinking she wasn't enough to keep your love. Sitting somewhere crying, because you're too big of a coward to ask for her forgiveness, and to be with her. You're running, and hiding, but for what? Because of the possibility that she doesn't love you. Well, she loves you. I know she does."

"How do you know?"

"You never stop loving a person. You should know this. The only reason people move on, and fall in love again, is because the other person leaves. You left, and she may love someone else now, but if she does, it's not because she doesn't love you. It's because you didn't give her the chance to love you."

Spike drops his head. **I hate it when she's right.** "When did you become the expert on love?" Spike mumbles.

"After listening to you ramble about your love life for six months," Becca answers with a soft laugh.

Spike stands up, and pulls Becca to her feet. He places his hands on her hips. "Let's go out?" he says.

"Only if I get a present," Becca answers.

Spike groans. "We'll go shopping tomorrow, luv, I promise."

Becca claps her hands. "Goodie."

Spike grabs her around the waist, and spins her in a circle. When he sets her back on her feet, she collapses dizzily into his arms giggling. Spike holds her to him. **If I go back to Buffy, and she doesn't want me, I don't know if I'll survive.**

"William?" Becca hesitantly asks breaking into his thoughts.

"What pet?"

“You're not going to go see her, are you?"

Spike closes his eyes. "Not yet."

Becca looks up at him, and when he opens his eyes again, she says, "Send the tape, and wait and see if she comes after you."

Spike pauses before answering, "I'll think about it, but right now I'm hungry."

"What's on the menu tonight?" Becca asks.

"Blood," Spike answers. "What would you like?"

"Chocolate," Becca answers.

"Then chocolate you shall have, pet," Spike replies.

Spike takes her hand, and they walk out of the apartment.

Part 7

Buffy quietly walks in awe through the museum. Last year, Buffy had chosen art history as her major. She figured it would be somewhat useful in her occupation as the slayer. She intended to study ancient art, and it's mystical ties when she went on to graduate school. Giles was very pleased to say the least.

But today, Buffy is not looking at ancient art. Instead she is taking in the collection at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. Vincent had begged her for months to come visit him during the summer. She had quickly resigned herself to go, but enjoyed torturing Vincent with her indecision.

Buffy had been staying with Vincent in Connecticut for two weeks, prior to this trip to New York. She was set to return to Sunnydale in another two weeks, and Vincent had insisted they spend a week in New York. So here they were in the Big Apple, staying with his aunt, and her fifteen cats. **Old spinsters are so eccentric**

Buffy stands in front of "Starry Night" by van Gogh. She takes in the swirling sky, and radiating stars. The painting swallows her into it, and she is mesmerized by the peacefulness that overcomes her despite the tumult in the painting. **It's like how my life used to be. Exploding, vibrant, ominous, exhilarating, dark, tragic, beautiful, and dangerous. This is my relationship with Spike.**

"That's my favorite," Vincent whispers in her ear.

"I think it's mine too."

"Some say van Gogh painted this while hallucinating on drugs," Vincent informs her.

"I think it's more a reflection of a complicated soul," Buffy answers.

"Maybe."

"A man has to be filled with sorrow, passion, fear, confusion, and love to look at the sky and picture this. It's frightening, and beautiful, and lonely."

"You see all that in there?" Vincent asks.

"Yeah. Am I overanalyzing?" Buffy asks with a grin.

"Just a little over identifying," Vincent answers taking her hand.

"It is beautiful though," Buffy argues letting Vincent pull her away.

"It is. Now how about some lunch?"

~~~

Buffy runs giggling down the street. Vincent is chasing after her. Buffy stops at the door step of his aunt's apartment building, and leans against the wall waiting for Vincent to catch up. Vincent finally does panting, and clutching his sides.

He gulps for air, and gasps, "Damn you're quick. We're you on the track team?"

Buffy shakes her head, and smiles. Vincent stands up, and walks over to her still slightly breathing hard. They are standing a few inches apart.

"Did you enjoy the play?" he breathlessly asks.

Buffy nods again, and Vincent lowers his mouth to hers. Buffy wraps her arms around his neck pulling him closer to her. Vincent breaks the kiss, and murmurs in her ear, "I'm so glad you came, Buffy."

"So am I," she whispers in his ear.

Vincent takes her hand, and opens the door. They walk into the elevator in silence. When the doors close, Vincent pushes the correct button, and pulls her into another kiss. This kiss is more demanding, and his hands caress her lower back. Buffy winds her fingers into his hair, and rubs her body against his. The elevator dings, and they pull apart as the doors open. Silently, they walk to the apartment with their arms around each other.

Once inside, Vincent hits the light, and shuts the door. He pins her against the door, running his hands down her arms before capturing her mouth in another kiss.

Buffy finally pulls away, and breathlessly asks, "What about your aunt?"

Vincent smiles at her, "She left today for the annual cat convention thingie she goes to every year. We are all alone for two days."

Buffy smiles at him before pulling him into another passionate, and urgent kiss. Vincent backs away pulling her along, and never breaking the kiss. He finally picks her up, and Buffy wraps her legs around his waist. He carries her to his room still kissing her. He pushes the door open with his hip, and hits the lights with his elbow. Buffy giggles as he sets her gently on the bed.

Buffy leans back her mind racing. **I'm finally ready to love someone else.**

Vincent follows her onto the bed, and starts kissing her neck. Buffy winces in pain and says, "Hold on." Something is poking me in the back."

Vincent lifts his head, and reaches underneath Buffy. He feels a small box, and pulls it from underneath her. He curiously stares at it.

"What is it?" Buffy asks.

"It's for you. It's been rerouted from your house, to my house, to here," he answers.

Buffy takes the package, and her heart stops when she recognizes the familiar writing, and no return address. She stares at the postmark from Moscow, and sighs.

Vincent notices the change, and asks concerned, "What is it, Buffy?"

Buffy wiggles out from under him, and stands up. She opens the package revealing a tape.

"Buffy?" Vincent asks worried.

"Can I use your stereo?" Buffy asks.

"Sure go ahead," Vincent answers still not sure what is going on.

Buffy walks over to the stereo, and puts the tape in. She pushes play.

As the last chords fade out, Buffy hits stop. She is too stunned to cry, or yell, or say anything. She just stares at the stereo as the song echoes in her head. She knows it is Spike singing on the tape. She'd know that voice anywhere. She is overwhelmed with feelings of love, sadness, and confusion. **He wrote that song for me. I didn't even know he could play.**

Vincent interrupts her thoughts by calling her name, "Buffy?"

"I'm sorry Vincent, but I have to go," Buffy chokes out feeling the tears coming.

Buffy darts out of the room, and Vincent follows her. "Buffy it's not safe to go out alone at night," he calls as she disappears out the door.

He chases after her. Buffy tears down the stairs, and out the front door. Vincent chases her down the street, but with her greater speed she loses her within minutes.

Buffy finally stops running. She leans up against the side of a store, and weeps. A man stops, and places a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay, miss?" he asks.

Buffy looks up into his eyes, and takes off running again. Thoughts of Spike invade her mind as she slows down to a walk. She walks aimlessly through the city thinking. **Spike. Spike. Spike.** She tries to make herself angry at him for once again invading her life when she is just getting it going again, but she can't. **That song. He wrote it for me. He still loves me, and yet he won't come back to me. Something is holding him back.** Buffy bangs her head against the side of a tree in frustration.

Buffy lets the words play in her mind. **Will there come a day when nothing standing in my way living that dream within your arms. Will there come a day when we give up and turn away and I'd have nothing left except…time to cry. He's starting to give up.**

Buffy finally hails a cab, and gives the driver the address to Vincent's aunt's house. When she gets there, she finds Vincent sitting on the stoop waiting for her. Buffy hands the cab driver some money, and sits next to Vincent. She lays her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"Spike?" Vincent asks.

Buffy looks up at him, and silently nods. Vincent puts his arms around her. Buffy collapses against him. She doesn't cry. She just lets him hold her. Finally, Vincent stands up, and picks her up. He carries her inside. Once inside the apartment, he tucks her into her bed, and kisses her forehead.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?"

Buffy grabs his arm as he starts to stand. "Will you stay, and hold me, please."

"Of course," Vincent answers climbing behind her.

Part 8

Spike leans against a building smoking a cigarette. He watches the people scurry by. He can't believe how much London has changed since he was a boy. **I guess a lot changes in two centuries** He tosses his cigarette aside, and walks into the pub. He sits at the bar.

"Tommy, my usual," he calls out to the bartender.

"Sure thing, Will," the bartender replies fixing Spike his shot of whisky.

The bartender sets it in front of him, and asks, "Ready to play later, Will."

"I'm always ready," Spike answers downing the shot. He places the glass on the counter, and walks away shouting, "Thanks, Tommy," over his shoulder.

Spike walks backstage to find the rest of his band. Spike chuckles at the reality of it. **A vampire in a punk band. William the Bloody in a punk band.**

"Hey, Will, are you going to play that new song of yours tonight?" his drummer asks.

"What new song?" Spike questions lighting another cigarette.

"The one I heard you strumming last night. It really kicked ass."

Spike's face clouds over, as he realizes he overheard him recording another song for Buffy. It's been almost a year since he sent the last tape to her from Moscow. In actuality, Becca had sent the tape while he was sleeping. When she told him, he had been pissed. He destroyed most of the apartment in his rage, and only stopped when he realized he was frightening Becca.

Becca was crouched in a corner crying. Spike held her, and listened to her explain that she did it to give him some peace. She did it so he would finally know if Buffy still cared. She did so that he would have a chance to be truly happy.

Spike knew Becca was right. He had to face his feelings. They went out every night looking for Buffy. They went where Spike knew Buffy would look for him. As the weeks wore on, and there was no sign of Buffy, Spike became more, and more detached, and introverted.

Eventually, he shut down completely. He wouldn't talk to Becca, or go out. He wouldn't feed, and Becca had to start injecting blood directly into his veins. He wouldn't move from the window, and Becca had to drag him to his room when the sun started to rise.

Buffy never came, and after two months Becca persuaded him to leave Moscow. She didn't really persuade him. She basically dragged him out of Russia, and to Berlin.

Once in Berlin, Spike got somewhat better. He was still depressed, but he started talking to Becca again. Soon he was feeding, and going out again. Eventually they traveled to Amsterdam.

In Amsterdam, Spike reverted back to his demon self. He couldn't really pinpoint an exact reason for this change. He just snapped out of his depression one day, and got angry, extremely angry. He started fighting, and terrorizing the streets of Amsterdam. He drank a lot, and whored around. The biggest change that happened in Amsterdam was he started feeding off humans again. He would even kill his meal, something he hadn't done since Mexico.

He had stopped feeding off of humans for two reasons once he reached Martinique. The first was he was afraid to arouse suspicion. He wanted to stay hidden. The second, more pressing reason, was the passion for it left him the minute he tasted the blood of the slayer. He believed the demon inside him was what ruined things with Buffy, and the foremost demon aspect he possessed was his blood lust. He figured if he could control that, maybe one day he would beat the demon inside him, and regain the love he lost.

In Amsterdam the reality that he was never going to get Buffy back hit him, and he started feeding from humans again. That's when the problems with Becca exploded. She didn't understand his sudden change in behavior, his anger, and his need to destroy.

One night, Spike left their home to feed. Becca had been worried about him, and his sudden change in behavior. He had become mean, and impatient with her. He would ignore her, and snap at her. He stopped buying her gifts, and doting on her. He would disappear for days and never tell her where he went.

Becca followed him that night, and saw him feed off a young girl killing her. Becca never confronted Spike about what he had done that night. She told him the next day she was leaving. She didn't leave out of fear. She knew Spike would never hurt her. She left because he was going through a change, and she was no longer a part of his life. The life he was living now had no place for her.

The shock of Becca's departure cut Spike deep. He loved her, and he hated himself for what he did to her. He knew she left because of his actions. Because of the way he had been acting. When she left, Spike cried. He didn't beg her to stay, because he understood why she needed to leave. He just gently kissed her, and told her he loved her. He sent her off with a large amount of money, and a promise to always help her if she needed it.

He left Amsterdam the next day, and went to London. Becca's exit from his life calmed the anger inside of Spike. He was finally able to accept everything that had happened, and he stopped blaming himself for everything.

Spike started writing a song for Buffy soon after he arrived in London three months ago. He wrote the song as a good bye. He knew it was the last tape he would send her.

"That songs off limits, mate," Spike answers.

"Why? That song is great. It could be just the thing we need to get our record deal," the drummer argues.

"I said no. No one hears that song," Spike growls.

The drummer backs down instantly, knowing that William could get vicious when angered. He's seen one too many bar fights involving the bands lead singer/guitar player.

“Okay, fair enough. Just forget it."

The drummer walks away, and Spike leans against the wall. **Only the slayer gets to hear that song.**

Part 9

Buffy sucks in her breathe as she hears the familiar music of graduation. She exhales as she carefully follows Willow in the Procession of Graduates. Willow is graduating with a degree in classical literature, and Buffy is graduating with a degree in art history. Both girls are going on to graduate school. Buffy is going to Yale for two reasons. The first being it's a great school for art history, and it's Yale. The second reason is it's where Vincent is.

Buffy's relationship with Vincent didn't falter when she received the last tape from Spike. In fact it flourished. Vincent accepted that Buffy loved Spike, but was in love with him now. It was also inevitable that Buffy would fall in love with him. When he came to Sunnydale over Christmas two major events happened. First, they had made love for the first time, and second, she told him she was the slayer.

Vincent didn't run away from her after hearing this. Instead he supported her, and accepted that part of her. He never interfered with her slayer duties, and never tried to change her. The only thing Buffy kept from Vincent was the knowledge that Spike had been a vampire.

When she told Vincent about Angel, and that he was a vampire, Vincent wasn’t able to understand how she could love a demon. Buffy tried to explain, but she knew Vincent couldn't understand. She thought it best to just not mention that Spike was a vampire as well. Buffy never gave him the full details about what happened with Spike. Vincent accepted that she didn't want to talk about that part of her life.

Buffy still isn't sure what she ever did to deserve Vincent's love, but she gave up questioning it. Her life has already been longer than it should, so she decided she wasn't going to let her insecurities, and fears hold her back.

When her turn comes, Buffy climbs onto the platform, and accepts her diploma. She smiles, and waves to her cheering section. Giles, Xander, her mother, her father, and Vincent are all standing, clapping, and screaming for her.

When the ceremony is over, Buffy and Willow find their friends, and accept their hugs, and congratulations.

"Okay, it's now time to party," Buffy declares her arm around Vincent.

They head to the Bronze for one last night. Buffy leaves tomorrow for Connecticut to spend the whole summer, so this is the last night with her friends in Sunnydale. The night is filled with laughter, food, dancing, and fun. They talk about old times sharing stories with Vincent about Buffy.

As the night is winding down, Angel shows up. Buffy had invited him to come, and he had quickly accepted. Since the incident with Spike, Buffy and Angel have slowly rebuilt a trusting friendship. It started out as writing about demons, and other evil things, but slowly evolved into talking about their lives. They still had a special bond between them, and understood each other like no one else could. Buffy could talk to Angel about things she never could with Vincent. Angel was extremely proud of Buffy, and her life.

Angel pulls her aside. "This is what I wanted for your life when I left. I'm so happy for you."

Buffy can see the tears in his eyes, and she hugs him. "Thank you Angel, for everything."

"You'll always be my girl," he whispers.

Buffy lets her tears fall. "I love you, Angel."

Angel pulls away from her, and smiles down at her. "Congratulations."

Buffy kisses him on the cheek. Angel gives her one last look before disappearing into the night. Soon, the party breaks up, and Buffy leaves with Vincent. They walk back to Buffy's house.

"What a great night?" Buffy comments throwing her arms in the air. "I’m actually going to miss the hell mouth."

"Well, lucky for me, there's another slayer to take on your duties."

"Lucky for me too," Buffy says pulling Vincent into a kiss. When they break apart she continues, "But I am going to miss my friends, and family. I mean, I know Willow isn't going to be too far away in Boston, but everyone else. Hell, I'm even going to miss Xander's dumb jokes, and Giles' stuffy orders."

"I know, but just think about the new life you are going to have," Vincent says.

"Right, the one where I'm living with the best man on earth," Buffy replies smiling.

Vincent pulls her into his arms, "That's the one I'm talking about."

He kisses her softly before they resume walking back to Buffy's house. When they get there, they go up to Buffy's room. Buffy hits the lights, and groans at the stack of gifts covering her bed.

"I like presents, and everything, but how am I supposed to sleep with them all over my bed," Buffy complains. "Why couldn't they send cash? I like cash."

"I'll clear off the bed. You go ahead and get ready for bed," Vincent offers starting to move presents to the floor.

"Thank you, sweetie," Buffy says before grabbing some clothes to sleep in, and disappearing to the bathroom.

When she returns, Vincent is almost done moving the presents. Buffy walks up behind him, and wraps her arms around him. "Why don't you change, and I'll finish this," she purrs in his ear.

Vincent smiles, and places a quick kiss on her cheek before heading out of the room. Buffy giggles before shoving the last few presents on the floor. She looks at the stack, and grins. **Presents are good** Her smile quickly fades when she notices a familiar small package. She picks it up, and groans when she sees no return address.

Buffy almost tosses the tape into the trash, but something inside stops her. She opens the package, and puts the tape in the stereo. She pushes play, and is instantly moved to tears at the sound of Spike's voice.

Buffy hits stop. She doesn't notice that Vincent has come back into the room. She leans against the stereo, and silently cries. **He's let me go. He's given up. He's never coming back.**

Vincent leaves the room quietly, and leans against the door. He knew this day would come, when she would receive another tape, but he wasn't prepared for how it is making him feel. The woman he loves with his whole heart is still moved to tears by another man. **Thank God this guy is too stupid to claim what he can have. Who would ever give up Buffy?**

Vincent slowly opens the door, and peeks into the room. Buffy is curled up on the bed. Vincent slowly walks over to her.

"I got." Buffy starts, but Vincent cuts her off.

"I know. It's okay."

Buffy reaches her hand up to caress his cheek. She runs her thumb over his lips. "Make love to me, Vincent," she pleads.

Vincent lowers his lips to hers, and Spike fades out of her mind, as she is consumed by the love of a man who wants to be with her.

Part 10

Buffy stares at Vincent with wonder, and love as he kneels before her holding a beautiful diamond ring.

"Buffy, I love you with my entire being. Will you make me complete? Will you marry me?" he asks.

Vincent nervously looks up at her, and he sees her soaking in what he has just asked. It's Christmas, and they are spending it in Paris. Vincent has been planning this moment for months. He remembered their conversations in Martinique where she said she would love to go to Paris. He had planned this trip as a Christmas present, but also as the perfect setting to propose to her.

They had been living together since right after her graduation. For six months now, Vincent has felt like he was in heaven. Now he is holding his breathe as he waits for her answer.

Buffy throws her arms around him, and shouts yes. The other patrons at the restaurant applaud, as the happy couple kisses.

When dinner is over, Vincent and Buffy are strolling back to their hotel. Buffy is holding her ring out admiring it.

"It's so beautiful. I never thought I could be any happier, but you have made me happier than I ever thought possible," Buffy tells him.

He lowers his mouth to hers, and they kiss in the middle of the sidewalk with people bumping into them. Buffy pulls away giggling, and Vincent joins in her laughter.

"I guess they just don't appreciate a good PDA here," Buffy comments waving her hand towards the people walking past. Her eyes roam their faces gaily until she stops on one. Her heart stops, and all the blood in her face drains away. She locks her eyes to his blue ones, and whispers, "Spike."

Vincent instantly tenses up as the girl in his arms faints. Spike runs to her side, grabbing her just before her head hits the sidewalk. Vincent isn't able to move as he stares at the man holding onto Buffy gently tapping her face trying to wake her up. Buffy eyes finally flutter open. She stares at Spike, and shakes her head.

"Was this all a dream?"

"No, luv. You fainted," Spike answers.

Buffy jerks her head to Vincent, and quickly tries to stand up, but she crumbles again into Spike's arms. Finally, Vincent is able to move, and he kneels next to her.

"Buffy are you okay," he asks trying to ignore the other man at her side.

"I'm fine. Help me stand up," she asks Vincent.

Vincent takes her arm, and helps her to her feet. Spike stands as well. He looks at Vincent, and then at Buffy. His eyes fall on the ring on her left ring finger. A sick, and consuming pain overcomes Spike. He clutches his chest, and stumbles backwards. Buffy reaches out to him trying to steady him, but he shakes her arm off.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he says before vanishing into the night.

"Spike, no," Buffy screams after him, but he is already gone.

Vincent puts his arms around her, and leads her back to their hotel. Buffy doesn't say anything, and Vincent lets her remain inside herself. She crawls into the bed, and curls herself up into a protective ball. Vincent leaves the room, and lies on the couch. He figures it's best to just let her be for the night. **This night was supposed to be perfect, and it was until he showed up. Now it's a nightmare. Spike, the one thing that can ruin everything. I can only hope that tomorrow things will be better, and he'll be gone.**

Buffy lays in bed numb. She had wanted to see Spike for so long, and now she has. She thought she had let him go, but she never imagined she would see him again. Old emotions she thought were gone resurfaced. **Spike's here. He's really here.**

Buffy creeps out of her room. She quietly walks by Vincent sleeping on the couch. She leaves the hotel, and heads out onto the streets of Paris.

She has no idea where she's going, or why she's looking for him. He made it clear things were done. She walks a few blocks before the sound of a lone guitar pulls her into a bar. She slowly walks in, and looks around.

The bar is dimly lit, and decorated in dark wood, and deep red. Directly across from the entrance is the bar, and scattered in between the door, and bar are random tables. Along the walls are high booths, hiding the occupants from curious eyes.

A haze of smoke hangs in the air, and the din of the mingled voices almost swallows the sound of the guitar.

Buffy slowly turns towards the sound of the voice, instantly knowing whom it belonged to. He's sitting on a stool in the corner by the bar. His blonde head is lowered as he sings the melancholy song. Buffy stares at him. **He's exactly how I remembered him. It's been four years, and he hasn't changed. Not that he would. He doesn't age, but God, he's beautiful.**

Blue days, black nights
My heart keeps on calling for you, dear
And you alone

The noise quiets down as Spike continues to sing, pouring his whole heart into the song. He watches his hands as he plays, and sings, not wanting anyone to see the tears that are falling down his face.

Buffy listens to Spike play, and her heart feels like it is being ripped from her chest. She can't take her eyes off of him, as he sings, his voice filled with sadness.

Blue days, black nights
I didn't realize I would miss you the way I do
And now somehow I know I will pay for the times
I have made you blue.

Spike looks up briefly thinking he can feel her eyes on him. When he scans the crowd he doesn't see her. He lowers his head again, and finishes the song.

Buffy watches as he finishes the song. She is standing in the back of the bar in the shadows. She had retreated when she saw him lift his head. She didn't know why, but she didn't want him to see her. She wanted to hear him finish the song. She knew he sang it to her even if he didn't know she was there.

Spike finishes the song, and stands up. The audience graciously claps, and Spike nods his thanks. He sets his guitar against the bar, and sits down. He orders a drink that is quickly put in front of him. He downs it in one gulp, and orders another.

Buffy waits in the back out of sight. She isn't sure what she should do, or what she wants to do. She watches as he scans the bar again as if searching for someone. He mumbles something under his breathe before downing his drink.

Spike can feel someone watching him. He can feel her. He knows she is there. He picks up his third drink, and downs it.

Buffy creeps out of the bar, and leans against a wall outside **I shouldn't be here. I can't see him. I can't talk to him. I love Vincent.** Buffy starts running to her hotel trying to escape the feelings that are overwhelming her.

She suddenly stops, and walks back to the bar. **I'll never see him again. I just have to talk to him tonight. I have to end this. The only way my life can go on is if I talk to him, and ask him why. I can't spend the rest of my life wondering.**

Buffy walks back into the bar, and straight over to Spike. He hasn't moved. He's leaning forward with his arms on the bar smoking a cigarette.

"Is this seat taken?" she asks sitting next to him. Spike looks up at her in shock, but doesn't respond. He looks back down at the bar. "I never thought I would see you again," Buffy tells him.

"I had the same thought," he answers trying to control his emotions.

"It's not because I didn't want to mind you. More like I thought you didn't want to see me."

"I wanted to see you every day, slayer, but I couldn't," he answers refusing to look at her, refusing to let her see the tears.

"Why? You knew where I was. Obviously you knew where I was, you kept sending me those tapes."

"Sorry about that. If I had known you were getting married, I wouldn't have."

"He just asked me tonight," Buffy quietly answers.

"Then I'm sorry I ruined it," Spike sarcastically replies taking a drag of his cigarette.

"So am I. Everything was going perfect."

"I already said I was sorry. What more do you want me to say?" Spike angrily shouts turning to look at her.

"Why?" she whispers staring into his tear filled eyes.

Spike looks back down at the bar. "Bloody hell slayer, I didn't know you were in Paris. If I did, I would have left."

"You hate me that much?" she asks tears welling in her eyes.

"No, I love you that much," he quietly answers.

"I heard you play earlier."

"I know," he answers.

"It was beautiful," she tells him.

"Thanks," he mumbles.

Buffy waits for Spike to say more, and when he doesn't she continues, "I went to Martinique to find you after you sent the first tape."

"Well, I'm sorry yet again that you wasted your time," Spike answers.

"I'm not. That's where I met Vincent."

"Didn't take you long to forget me," Spike snaps with hatred in his words.

Spike takes another drag of his cigarette trying to calm his emotions. This is the day he never wanted to come. The day Buffy told him she loved someone else.

"Actually, it did. I didn't get with Vincent until almost two years later," Buffy answers.

Spike stands up. He can't take it any longer. He can't take being this close to her, and not being able to have her. He can't take listening to her talk about another man. "Well, congratulations, slayer. I hope you have a wonderful life."

Spike starts to walk away when Buffy quietly admits, "I still love you." Spike's head snaps around, and he stares at Buffy. The heart that never beat is pounding in his chest. "Funny how I was over Angel the second you touched me, but you still haunt my mind every day."

Spike stands there unable to say anything as he tries to process what she is saying. He's overcome with feelings of hope, anger, and love. Buffy stands up. She runs her hands over his chest. Spike flinches under her touch. A touch he hasn't felt in four years.

Buffy lets her hands glide over the buttons of his shirt undoing them. Spike inhales deeply as she slowly pulls his shirt away revealing his bare chest. She looks at the single word written across his heart. She looks up into his eyes. Tears are streaming down her face. Spike looks back at her with love burning in his eyes. Buffy looks down, and runs her hand lightly over the word on his chest before turning and leaving.

Buffy slowly walks back to her hotel. She knows she can't go back to Vincent now. She can't be with him, and in love with someone else. It's not fair to either of them.

Buffy thinks of Spike. The image of his chest engraved in her mind. The single word that will ruin the life she has worked so hard to have. A word that will forever dictate the course of her life. The one word that will ensure she can never be normal. One single word. Slayer.

The End