It was mid-day as Buffy walked down the dirt road to her house. The sun beat down upon her in full blaze, and the

sky was pure blue with only a few scattered white clouds. Italy was perfect. She had spent some time in Rome with

Dawn, but once Dawn left to go to college, Buffy decided that she'd rather be somewhere quieter. She picked up

a cottage outside of town, and got a job as a waitress at a small café. It was nothing like her previous waitressing

job in LA. The café was owned to by an elderly couple whom had practically adopted the small blonde, and even

talked her into taking classes at the nearby community college. For the most part, life was good.  

The only thing that bothered Buffy was her thoughts. They churned around inside her head at a burning pace.

What if this had happened? What if that had happened? She would spend whole days going over every detail in

her relationship with Angel, hours following tall blonds in leather coats. The other day, she had talked to a man

for two hours simply because he was dressed in military fatigues and was from Iowa.  Sometimes, she would try to

figure out how she could have changed an action that might have resulted in Anya still being alive...or Tara...or

her mother. Other days, she would stare at the phone and debate internally over calling Willow or Xander, just

to see how they were doing. None of them had talked much in the past few years. Buffy had barely even talked

to Dawn since she moved away.

Today, however, there was nothing clouding Buffy's brain. Instead, she was simply basking in the sun warming

her bare arms as she swung her shopping bags freely at her side. She paused at the foot of her driveway, closing

her eyes suddenly and spinning in circles laughing all the while. It was simply that kind of day...which is why the

sudden chuckle of a male voice startled her so much.

Buffy stopped mid circle with a gasp, her bags crashing against her legs as her eyes met the man in front of her.

The man standing in the middle of her driveway on a sunny day without catching on fire. She dropped her bags

to the ground as he approached her, one hand raised in front of her as though to keep him at a distance. He

gently grasped her hand and placed it on his chest, over his beating heart. Buffy's eyes widened and briefly

sought his before the world went dark and she collapsed against him.  

"It's good to see you too, luv." He whispered against her ear.

Chapter 2

Buffy awoke to find herself neatly tucked into her bed. She sighed and rolled over. Her dreams were starting to

get more and more realistic. She threw the covers off the bed and started to get up before realizing that she was

not alone in the cottage. Someone was moving around in the kitchen. With slayer stealth, she made her way from

her bedroom toward the kitchen door.

Spike had his back to her as he puttered around trying to make tea. Buffy slipped in the kitchen and silently sat at

the table. Spike cursed under his breath as he opened each cabinet above the stove and failed to find tea bags.

He turned around and began to open the other cabinets when he saw her watching him.

"You're awake." Spike smiled at her hesitantly. The smile quickly disappeared as Buffy continued to stare at him.

He shifted nervously and closed the cabinet. "Um, sorry to burst into your house like this and all, but seeing as

you were unconscious and like...I'm, uh, making you some tea. That is, I'm making tea if you have any, otherwise

we're simply having boiling water."

Buffy stood up, walked to the door behind the table, and opened it up to reveal a small pantry. She pulled out a

few different boxes of tea, and set them on the table before returning to her chair. Her eyes never left Spike's the

entire time.

"Uh, right. I thought that was a broom closet or something." He located two mugs and poured the water into

them. As he went to hand Buffy her mug, their fingers brushed, and with a shriek, Buffy knocked the mug on the

floor shattering it. The boiling water splashed onto Spike's finger and instantly burned red.

"Bloody hell!" He roared shaking the finger in the air before rushing over to the sink.

Buffy watched Spike as he held his finger under the running water, and began to laugh.

"Wot's so funny?"

"It's-it's really you, isn't it?"

"Erm, last time I checked."

"You're really here...and you're..." She trailed off as he turned to face her.

"Yeah, I am...on both accounts."

With a cry, Buffy threw herself across the room and wrapped her arms around Spike's neck.

"I thought I was dreaming," she sobbed into his neck. "Thought if I opened my mouth you would disappear again."

"Oh, pet." Spike breathed into her hair as his arms wrapped around her waist. He inhaled the scent of her hair, and

pressed a kiss to her temple. "Oh, God. How I've dreamed of this moment, of having you in my arms again."

Buffy pressed her ear against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. "How?"

He slowly ran his fingers through her hair. "Don't know. Don't care. One minute I was saving the world...guess I

won us still being here and all, the next minute there was a flash and I was standing in your driveway."

Buffy tipped her head back to ask him a question, but found herself staring deep into his eyes. Her vision slowly

blurred as he lowered his lips to meet hers. With a hungry moan, she opened her mouth and let his tongue slide

in. She tightened her arms around his neck as he pulled her waist closer to him.

At this point, logical Buffy tried to but in. What are you doing? You don't know why he's back. Is he staying? Is this

just a quickie stop on his way to somewhere else-someone else? Where has he been all this time? Shouldn't you

stop and talk about this before hopping into bed with a former vampire? He's changed...you've changed...these

things should be addressed.

But Buffy didn't care about being logical. She was drowning in his taste, his smell, the feel of his skin against hers,

and her mouth pulled at his like it was the oxygen she needed to survive. They groaned into each other's mouths

as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself hard against him.

"Need you," she whispered as she kissed her way up his neck and jaw line. "Been so long, need you now."

Spike moaned as she bit his earlobe. "Been waiting for this for so long, luv. Missed you so bloody much."

He pulled her head away from his neck to look at her for a moment. "So bloody beautiful you are."

Buffy smiled at him briefly before pulling him back into a kiss, and he shifted her in his arms as he began the

trek to her bedroom. He was gonna make damn sure they made it to the bed this time.

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Buffy stretched her waking body alongside the still sleeping one next to her, and snuggled deeper into the arms

that held her. She smiled to herself as she curled her fingers around his hand. Something wasn't right. Buffy

glanced down and gasped, the arm wrapped around her waist was too broad to be Spike's. Slowly she rolled over

and found herself staring into two large brown eyes.

"Angel," she breathed.

"Hey," he whispered and leaned in to kiss her. As his bare chest pressed against hers, she felt the thump-thump

of his heart.

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Chapter 3

"Angel?" Buffy asked as he ended their kiss.

"Yeah."

"How-how did you get here?"

Angel pulled back and frowned at her. "What do you mean? We went over this earlier, I was saving the world,

there was a flash, and I ended up on your driveway...Are you-are you okay with what we did? I know we probably

hould have talked first and everything, but when I saw you in that sunlight, I just...everything seemed so perfect."

He pushed a stray hair out of her face as she sighed and laid her head against the pillow.

"Buffy? What's wrong? You can tell me. You know that right? You can tell me anything."

She placed her hand on his chest and felt his heart rate as it slowly accelerated. It felt strange. Everything felt

strange. Buffy was sure that she had fallen asleep next to Spike, so why had she woken up next to Angel? And

why was Angel repeating to her everything that Spike had told her earlier?

"I need to make a phone call before I go to work," she murmured as she climbed out of bed and pulled on Angel's

discarded shirt.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"This isn't how I pictured this happening."

She smiled slowly at him. "Yeah, me either." And she turned and walked down the hallway to the phone.

Technically she could have used the one in the bedroom, but...

"Watcher's Council. How may I direct your call?"

"Rupert Giles please."

"One moment....I'm sorry ma'am. Mr. Giles is unavailable. May I take a message?"

"Yes, have him call Buffy Summers please." She hung up the phone and frowned. Giles was almost always at the

council since he had taken over. Buffy picked up the receiver again, and dialed a different number.

"Hello?"

"Hello, may I please speak to Willow Rosenberg?"

"Willow is not with us at this time."

"Oh, do you know where I can reach her?"

"No, I'm sorry I don't."

"Thank you."

Buffy set the phone down again. She'd have to try again later. Right now, there were more important things on

her mind. Angel was human and, if her hearing was right, currently in her shower. Deciding that it was wrong to

make Angel shower alone, and all thoughts of the reason she was calling Giles and Willow in the first place

suddenly gone, Buffy decided to join him.

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"Mmmm." Buffy sighed as she leaned against Angel's chest in the shower. "Are you happy?" She asked tilting her

head up at him.  

"Perfectly," he whispered and captured her mouth with his.

As he pulled away from her, she wrinkled her nose at him. "I'm getting all pruney in here."

Angel chuckled as he brought his lips back to hers. "I guess we'd better get out then."

"Yeah, some of us need to go to work."

 "Yeah, I guess some of us do," he said between kisses.

"Uh-huh...what do I have to do again?" she murmured against his mouth.

"I don't know."

"Hmm, okay."

"We should get out of the shower."

"Mmmm-hmmm."

"You have to go to work."

"Don't wanna."

Buffy let out a small whimper as Angel pulled away from her, and turned off the water. He helped her out of the

shower and handed her a towel as she leaned in to kiss him.

"What are you going to do while I'm at work?" She asked.

"Go find clothes...then visit you at work."

"Hmm, sounds like a plan." She grinned up at him.

"Good. Get ready and I'll walk with you." He kissed her one last time before leaving the bathroom.

Buffy hummed to herself as she bent over to wrap the towel around her hair. Straightening, she started to wipe

the fog off the mirror when letters began appearing on the glass in front of her.

"Reality is merely your perception." Buffy muttered as the letters formed a sentence. Huh, that's weird. "Hey! Come

look at this," she called out.

"Look at what?" Spike asked as he sauntered through the bathroom door dressed only in his jeans, and still

running a towel through his hair.

Buffy paused a second, finger still pointing at the mirror.

Spike wrapped his arms around her waist. "What am I looking at, luv?" he asked as he kissed her neck.

"Um, the mirror..."

"Yeah, I know. Can't get used to seeing myself in it." He grinned at their reflection in the fog free mirror. "Come

on luv, best get you to work."

Chapter 4

Buffy laughed as Spike squinted in the sunlight and shielded his eyes with one hand.

"I think you should pick up some sunglasses while you go shopping."

"Do you think I'll tan?"

"I think you'll burn to a crisp first. Maybe you should get some sunscreen."

"Hey-that's not funny."

"I wonder if they make SPF I Use To Be A Vampire?"

Spike pouted. "Still making with the burning jokes and I'm human now."

Buffy mimicked his pout until he leaned in and kissed her. "I'm gonna laugh at you when you turn all red and

peely," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Maybe I'll only freckle." Spike smiled into their kiss.

"So," Buffy said taking his hand in hers and continuing the walk again, "have you decided what you're going to

do now that you're all of the living breathing variety?"

"Well, I was thinking that I'd stick around here for a while. Maybe I'll get a job or something, although I've never

had one before. Do you think that I can put down saving the world as a job skill?"

"It's never worked for me."

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The café was located in the middle of the main street of town. Stores lined both sides of the street, and the

fenced in patio outside the café was filled with shoppers relaxing while drinking coffees. Mr. Donetello, the

owner, noticed Buffy standing with Spike and motioned her over.

"Now who is this cara mia?"

"Mr. Donetello this is Spike, Spike this is Mr. Dontello."

"Spike? What kinda name is this Spike?" Mr. Donetello asked as he shook Spike's hand. "Bella! Coma here and

meet Buffy's Spike."

Mrs. Donetello came out from the café, wiping her hands on her apron. She was a small woman, not much larger

than Buffy, but with dark hair pulled into a tight bun and a voice that boomed out.

"What's a Spike?" she asked eyeing the former vampire up and down.

"Erm, William actually. Spike's just a nickname." Spike stuck his hand out in the woman's direction.

"And how does one get a nickname like Spike?" The woman asked nonplussed as she glanced down towards

Spike's crotch, causing him to blush a bright red.

Mr. Donetello laughed at his wife. "Bella, stop. You are going to chase away Buffy's beau. Come, come. You have a

coffee with us while Buffy starts her shift. You tell us all about yourself so we know if you are good enough for

our little girl." Mr. Donetello reached up and wrapped an arm around Spike's shoulders and led him into the café.

Spike threw a worried look at Buffy, but she just smiled and shrugged as she headed in back to retrieve her apron.

The Donetello's grilled Spike for two hours before he was able to beg away to do his shopping. As they stood up,

Mr. Donetello slapped Spike on the back, and announced that he would allow Spike to woo Buffy to his heart's

content. Mrs. Donetello added onto her husband's statements by insisting that he have dinner with them later

that week.

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Buffy grinned widely at him as he walked out onto the patio and approached her.

"So, you survived?" She asked teasingly.

"I think I'd rather face ten dragons, then ever have to go through something like that again." Angel said as he

rinned down at her.

"Hmm, they liked you."

"I know," Angel leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I think Mrs. Donetello tried to pinch my ass."

Buffy laughed loudly as she smacked him in the chest. "You going shopping now?"

"I'd better 'cause I just don't think I'd look right if I had to borrow your clothes."

"Oh, I don't know. I think I have a black mini skirt that just screams today's broody male."

"You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"I think I'm hilarious...Do you need any money?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. "Nah, looks like I got it covered. I'll see you in a bit?"

He asked as he kissed her on the cheek.

"You better." She gave him a mock glare as he walked out of the café.

"Coma back anytime, Angel!" Mr. Donetello called out after him.

Buffy still had a smile on her face when she turned back around and almost walked into the man sitting at the

table behind her.

"Oh!" She said catching herself. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you sitting here."

The man smiled as he watched her steady herself. He looked in his early twenties with short sandy brown hair,

brown eyes, and a boyish grin.

"That's all right. I just sat down." His voice was smooth and mellow. "Is that your fellow?" He gave a nod toward the

Angel's shrinking back. "Or is it the blond fellow you came in with?"

Buffy gave him a confused look. "Not that it's your business, but that is the man I came in with, and yes he is my

'fellow.'"

The man placed his elbows on the table, and leaned his chin on his clasped hands. "Is it Buffy? Did you really walk

in here with Angel? Or did you walk in here with Spike?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes, and shot the man her stern slayer face. "How do you know my name? What do you know

about Angel and Spike?"

"I know an awful lot about you Buffy." He leaned farther toward her. "I know an awful lot about a lot of things, but

the real question in that pretty little head of yours is 'what does it mean?'"

Buffy met his stare evenly. "And what is it that I'm wondering what it means?"

He stood and brought his face inches from her unwavering gaze. "Reality is merely your perception." His voice

oozed out in a whisper.

Buffy gasped. "How did you-?"

He straightened up and winked at her. "I told you. I know an awful lot about an awful lot of things." He turned and

walked away from her.

"Wait-" Buffy called out to him, but he was already gone.

Chapter 5

Angel was back to pick Buffy up when her shift ended. He was juggling several bags in his hands as he bent to kiss

her hello.

"How was work?" he asked shifting all the bags into one hand so that he could hold Buffy's hand with the other.

"It was...strange," Buffy answered. "There was this guy who claimed that he saw Spike here."

"Spike? Why would he think that he saw Spike?" Angel frowned.

"I don't know. Spike died in Sunnydale..."

Angel swallowed hard. He had forgotten that no one had told her about Spike's resurrection in L.A. He tightened

his grip on her hand, and she looked up at him in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.

"Nothing," Angel smiled down at her. "Just tired is all. Long day shopping, you know."

"Amateur." Buffy laughed at him. "Come on, we'll make dinner and watch a movie. How's that sound?"

"Sounds perfect."

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When they reached the house, Buffy went straight into the kitchen to start dinner while he went to put away his

purchases.

"I expect you to model for me later." Buffy called out after him and she searched through the cabinets for

something to make.

"So, I was thinking..."Spike said as he reached over her shoulder to grab a tomato out of the salad she was making.

"Well that's dangerous now, isn't it?" Buffy joked at him as she slapped his hand out of the bowl.

"Well, I mean, I just sorta showed up here, right? What if the bleeding PTBs decided to drop Angel here as well?

How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"Since he gave me...the amulet." Buffy lowered her head. "After that, he started working for that law firm and I

didn't-Giles didn't think that it was wise to see him. I talk to him on the phone, but that's it."

Spike slowly turned her around to face him. "Buffy, luv." He cleared his throat nervously. "There's, uh, something

that I need to tell you." He lowered his eyes to the floor.

"What is it?"

"I came back-after Sunnydale. I was staying with Angel in L.A."

Buffy's hand reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look in her eyes.

"You came back, and you didn't think to tell me? That whole, 'I was saving the world and ended up on your

doorstep' spiel, you made that up?"

"No, I didn't. I was saving the world, just with Angel, not in Sunnydale."

Buffy backed away from him. "How long? How long before you came back?"

"Not long after, but I-I wasn't corporeal for a while. Didn't know if I was gonna make it, and I was afraid...I was afraid

you wouldn't want me back."

Buffy laughed harshly. "You really thought I was joking in the Hellmouth? Because after everything that we had

been through, I would lie to you when I thought you were dying?"

"I thought you were tossing me a bone. Besides, the whole bloody place was collapsing around us-and I saw you

take the sword in the gut. Knew you needed to get out, that's all I cared about."

"I can't-I can't deal with this right now. I'm going to bed." Buffy turned off the fire under the rice she had been

making, and stomped out of the kitchen.

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It was sunny as she climbed over the hill. The path was littered with sunflowers, and she picked one up and played

with the petals as she walked. At the top of the hill, she saw a playground with two children playing in a sandbox.

She smiled as she walked closer, and sat on a bench at the edge of the park to watch them. It was a boy and a girl,

who looked about five years old. The girl had long dirty blond hair, neatly plaited on either side of her head.

When the girl looked up, Buffy saw that her eyes were bright blue. The girl smirked when she saw Buffy looking

at her, and poked her playmate. The boy raised his dark head, so that Buffy could see his dark brown eyes. He

scowled at her, and wrinkled his forehead before hunching his broad shoulders back over the sandbox.

"They're cute, aren't they?"

Buffy looked over to see the man from the café sitting next to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Same as you. Just watching."

"Whose children are these?"

The man looked at her and smiled. "Ah, but that's the question now isn't it?"

Buffy glanced at him for a moment, and when she turned back, the little girl was standing in front of her.

"Hi! I'm Wilhemina, and that's Liam." She pointed back to the boy who was still in the sandbox. "Liam says that

you're going to take one of us home with you."

Buffy looked at the man in confusion. "You mean somebody just left these children in the park? Shouldn't we

find their parents?"

"These children were not left here. You're thinking about this the wrong way. But we do need to find their parents.

Isn't that why you came here?"

"I-I don't know why I came here."

"Oh, I think you do. You came for one of the children, didn't you?"

"I...I can't remember."

"You should hurry up and choose." Liam's voice shot over to her from the sandbox. "The other lady that was here,

she cried because she wanted to take me home with her."

"Why didn't she?" Buffy asked.

"Because she can't." Liam answered. "You are first, so you get to pick first."

"OH!" Wilhemina cried out. "You're going to pick Liam, aren't you? The other lady wanted him too. No one wants

me. Who will take care of me if you pick Liam?"

Liam jumped up from the sandbox and threw his arms around the sobbing girl. He scowled at Buffy. "Now look

what you did. Don't worry Mina. I'll take care of you."

"You'll leave me too. I know you will." She continued to cry. "How long will you take care of me?"

Liam glanced at Buffy again. "Forever...that's the whole point."

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Buffy awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. The last rays of daylight were filtering in through her

window. What had she been dreaming? She swallowed thickly. A glass of water sounded good.

With a small grunt, Buffy pushed herself up from the bed and waited for the last grasps of sleep to wear off before

heading out of the room. She paused when she noticed that the sliding back door was slightly opened. Spike

was slouched on the swing porch frantically scribbling in a notebook. He frowned at the page, and ripped it out,

crumpling it up and tossing it with the piles of similar balls on the ground around him. Buffy sighed as she

continued her walk to the kitchen.

She leaned her head on the fridge for a moment. This was so stupid. Why couldn't they just be happy for once?

Why did everything have to get so muddled and messed between them? Buffy closed her eyes and tried to

remember what she had felt as she watched him burn before her eyes.

Shaking her head, Buffy silently scolded herself as she reached into the fridge for the pitcher of water. Why was

she standing in the kitchen dredging up bad memories, when she could finally talk to him after all this time?

Really talk to him. Talk to him face to face, and have him answer all her questions with his own answers, and not

the answers that she made up in the pretend conversations she had with him in her head.

Steeling her nerves, Buffy slowly walked over to the sliding door and leaned her head against the glass. Spike was

still scowling over whatever it was that he was writing, and she giggled at the sight of his tongue poking out of

the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

She slid the door open, and walked over to the swing. Spike stilled the movements of his pen when her bare feet

entered his line of vision. He didn't look up though.

"Anyone sitting there?" Buffy asked motioning to the empty side of the swing.

"Just my imaginary friend Johnny. Have you two met yet?"

Buffy cocked her head to one side as she caught the nervousness in his eyes. Okay, he was going to hide behind

jokes. Two could play at that game.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll leave you two alone then. Didn't mean to intrude." She turned to walk away, but Spike leapt up

and grabbed her arm.

"Don't-don't go, luv. Talk to me, please." The notebook dropped to the ground as he turned her to face him. Buffy

looked into his face, but Spike wouldn't meet her eyes. When he spoke, his voice was so low that she had to strain

to hear him. "When I first came back, you were the only thing on my mind. But I was nothing more than a mere

ghost forced to wander around Wolfram and Hart. I thought I was going to fade away into nothingness... When

I became real again...I wanted to see you so bad, to feel you, but Angel told me that you were in Italy and that you

were happy. I know that it was stupid to believe Angelus, but...it echoed all the little voices in my head, telling me

that you were better off. I used to...I would call you all the time and listen to your voice on your answering

machine. You sounded good, happy. I went to Rome to try and see you, but...you were...busy. You didn't even

notice I was there."

"Oh Spike," she breathed as she pulled his head into her neck. "I was so stupid. I was doing anything to dull the

pain of you being gone. I thought I saw you everywhere I looked. It was driving me crazy. I did see you when you

came to Rome, but I didn't believe it was really you. I thought I was imagining it, like I had so many times before.

The Immortal, he didn't mean anything, I was just using him to feel."

"You used me to feel once," his voice muffled by her hair.

"That was different."

"Why?"

"Because...because it was. Because it was you. It was always you." Buffy tasted salt as her tears slid down her cheeks

and into her mouth.

She closed her eyes as Spike's mouth found hers, and Buffy lost herself in his embrace.

Chapter 6

"Did you...love him?" Angel asked her as he molded himself around her backside.

Buffy sighed and played with his fingers absent-mindedly.

"We've gone over this before. Why are you bringing it up again?"

"It's just that...well...you've never answered it."

"Did you love Cordelia?"

His silence answered her, and Buffy turned over in his arms so that she could see his face.

"Does it matter anymore?" She asked quietly. "I loved you first, and I love you now. Whether or not we loved in the

interim doesn't matter, they're gone. They're gone and we're here, together."

Buffy closed her eyes as Angel pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

"We strayed so far from each other, didn't we?" His breath tickled her.

"But we found each other in the end. That's the whole point, isn't it?"

"I used to think so," he said as he rubbed his cheek against her head. "I used to think so."

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Buffy lay in bed listening to Angel's slow and steady breathing against her shoulder. She closed her eyes, and

prayed for sleep to come, but it was eluding her. There was this built up tension growing inside her stomach. It

had been a long time since she had felt like this, like her nerves wanted to jump right out of her body and dance

the conga on the floor.

Agitated, Buffy shoved the covers off herself, and slipped out of Angel's embrace. She quietly dressed in a tank

top and sweats, and tiptoed out of the house.

The night air was cool against her skin, and she rubbed her arms wishing for a sweatshirt. It had been a long time

since she'd patrolled, and Buffy found herself praying that she found a vampire to stake.

Buffy hadn't gone far when she felt a presence fall in step with her. She turned to find herself facing the man from

the café.

"Are you following me?" Buffy reached behind to wrap her fingers around the stake tucked in her waistband.

"I'm not going to hurt you. You can release your hold on the wooden object."

"How did you know what I was reaching for?"

"Why do you always ask such unimportant questions?"

"Okay," Buffy stopped walking and turned to face him in exasperation. "Are you human?"

He smiled. "Sometimes."

"How can you sometimes be human?"

"In the same way that sometimes you are human?"

Buffy frowned. "Uh, hello. Human all the time here."

"Ah, but sometimes you are the Slayer and the Slayer is not human."

Buffy's frown deepened. "The Slayer and I are one and the same. How can that make me not human?"

"Why must you always make such inaccurate statements? The Slayer is a part of you, but the Slayer is separate from

the human side of you."

"WHO ARE YOU?" Buffy bounced on the soles of her feet. She felt anxious, and she didn't want to be with this man

or whatever he was anymore.

"I think the better question is, who are you?" He took a step toward her, and Buffy put her hand up in front of her.

"Don't touch me," he said harshly.

"Why?" She challenged. "Are you a man of the no-touching variety?"

"You won't like it if you touch me."

"Relax buddy. I have no desire to touch you, just step away from me. Or the only touching that will happen, will be

me throwing your stalking ass across the way."

He smiled at her.

"That I would like to see," he said as he turned and walked away from her. "So long Buffy. I'll see you soon. Oh, and

Buffy? Here's some more advice for you, that which you think is the most real is actually the least real."

Buffy watched him until he disappeared over the hill. She shuddered and turned to walk back home. She didn't

feel like being outside any longer.

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When Buffy returned home, she found herself staring out the sliding door at the balled up pieces of paper that

still littered the porch. Curiosity got the best of her, and she crouched onto the wooden deck and began

unfolding. They were portraits. Portraits of her, portraits of Cordelia, portraits of people she didn't know. It was

strange. Almost like Angel had drawn a chronological time line to illustrate something.

Buffy began un-crunching and smoothing out the discarded pictures. She tried lining them up to figure out what

order they went in. The notebook was still lying there as well, and when she flipped it open, there were more

photos inside.

She pulled her hair back into a make shift ponytail, and sat down on the deck with a small thud. The first picture

was a re-draw of her senior portrait, her after graduation, then Cordelia sitting at a desk talking to another man,

then that same man but with small spikes all over his face. A smile graced her face as she came across one of her

standing on a pier, sunlight beaming down upon her. She frowned at the next one, it was of her lying in the bed

of his first L.A. apartment obviously naked, but she didn't remember ever being in his bed when she was in L.A.

Her frown became deeper as she came across several photos of Darla: Darla and Drusilla, Darla in sunlight, Darla

pregnant. Then several photos of a small baby: Cordelia with the baby, Wesley with the baby, some weird demon

with the baby, a black man and another woman with the baby. What is this? She flipped through the pages faster:

Cordelia, Cordelia, Cordelia, a young man with straight brown hair and a round face.

With a cry, Buffy tossed the notebook onto the pile of papers in front of her. She buried her face in her hands.

They were wrong. There was so much that had happened since he'd left her, so much that neither of them knew

about each other. She'd never even told him that she had been in Heaven when she had died, and it appeared

that he had a whole other life that he'd never felt the need to tell her about.

Knowing that sleep was now useless, Buffy gathered up the notebook and the papers and carried them into the

bedroom.

"Angel?"

He moaned in his sleep and reached out toward her side of the bed. She sighed and climbed up next to him.

"Angel!" This time she prodded him in the side.

"Huh-what? Whas the matter?"

Buffy dumped the drawings on the bed in front of his face.

"I-we need to talk."

"Now?! Buffy it's," he glanced at the alarm clock, "2:30 in the morning."

"I know. I can't sleep."

Angel propped himself up on his elbow, and reached out a hand to cup her cheek.

"Alright, Buffy. We'll talk. What do you want to talk about?"

Buffy pushed the pile of papers closer to him. "What are these?" she asked.

Angel half-heartedly pushed the papers around the bed as he looked at them.

"I thought that we agreed about no more secrets." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest.

Angel spoke carefully. "We were apart for a long time, and a lot of things happened during that time. Things

happened to me, things happened to you."

"Like you and Darla?" she said accusingly.

"Also like you and Spike," he retorted harsher than he meant to.

"I thought that Darla was dead. Did she just magically come back? That seems to happen a lot around here, people

coming back from the dead and no one telling me about it."

"I didn't bring her back. Wolfram and Hart did."

"Of which you were the CEO, or did you forget that?"

"Not when they brought her back I wasn't. Buffy, they brought her back to torture me. T-to drive me insane and

bring out Angelus."

Buffy picked up the picture of Darla pregnant.

"Looks like that torture worked out real well. I thought that vampires couldn't get pregnant."

"There was a prophecy-"

"Isn't there always." she sneered.

"Fine, if you want to be a brat about this-"

"A brat!? Who's calling whom a brat? You get all self-righteous about me and Spike, and you're over there fucking

Darla."

"Hey! You wanted to talk about this. You came in here waving around a pile of pictures, some of which are years

old by the way, and ranting about how YOU can't sleep and YOU need to talk."

"Fine. Just fine. Go back to sleep." Buffy started to gather up the pictures, but Angel grabbed her arm. "Let me go,"

she said dangerously.

"Buffy," he sat up and leaned against the headboard. With a quick yank, he pulled her into his arms and held

tightly. She struggled a moment, but slumped against him when his grip tighten even more. "I don't want to

fight anymore. I can't change the things I did, but...I want to make a good future with you."

"Who is the baby?" she whispered into his chest.

"His name is Connor. He-he belonged to Darla and me."

"And the boy?"

Angel hesitated. "That's also Connor. He was kidnapped from me, and raised in a hell dimension."

Buffy looked up to see Angel stifling tears. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It happened...a while ago. I've dealt."

"Where is he now?"

"In college," Angel grinned proudly. "He's very smart, you know. I see him every once in a while, but he's got a

whole new life." The smile disappeared, "I don't really fit into it."

Buffy sighed, "I know how that goes." She looked up at him. "No more fighting?"

"No more fighting."

"And no more secrets?"

Angel swallowed thinking about the day that never happened.

"No more secrets," he said tightly. It was better if she never knew.

Chapter 7

<I>

Buffy was sitting on the swing set in the park watching Wilhemina and Liam play in the sandbox. They had yet to

notice her, but this didn't faze her. She was content with just watching them.

"You're here again."

Buffy turned to find the man sitting on the swing next to her.

"So are you," she countered.

He smiled. "Yes, but I am always here. You are not."

"Do you have a name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I'd like to know what to put on the restraining order."

"Is that what you think I am doing? Stalking you?"

Buffy shuffled her feet in the gravel.

"Have you decided whom you are taking?"

"Why are you changing the topic?" she asked and pushed off from the ground.

"I wasn't. The topic at hand is the children. Or did you forget?"

"I still don't get why I have to pick one of these children?"

He frowned at her. "You are so stubborn. Do you know that?"

"And you are a creepy, stuffy stalker person. Do you know that?"

"You still haven't figured it out yet. I'm disappointed in you. I heard such great things."

"Yeah, well sorry to disappoint...oh wait, I'm not. You know why? Because I honestly don't care what you think."

The man reached out and grabbed the chain of her swing so suddenly that Buffy almost fell off.

"It doesn't matter what I think. It only matters what you think." He glanced at the children again. "You best decide

quickly."

Buffy moved to push the man away from her, but he jumped back.

"I told you not to touch me." He turned and began to walk away, pausing only to call over his shoulder. "Reality is

merely your perception, Buffy. That which you think is the most real is really the least." </I>

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Spike awoke to a crinkling sound coming from Buffy's side of the bed. He rolled over to find her surrounded by

un-bunched pieces of paper.

"Wot are you doing?" Spike asked as he eyed her suspiciously.

"Oh, you're up." Buffy looked over at him in surprise as she attempted to stuff the papers into the drawer of her

nightstand.

"What was that?" Spike asked.

"Nothing." Buffy tried to look innocent but an unnoticed notebook slid off the covers and in between them.

"Oi! That's my notebook! What are you doing with that?" Spike snatched up the notebook before Buffy could react.

"I wasn't doing anything with it. You left it outside, so I brought it in."

"And you didn't open it?"

Buffy grinned wickedly, "No, I didn't open it and see your poetry."

Spike groaned. "Bloody hell, Slayer. Can't a bloke get any privacy for his own bleeding words."

Buffy leaned over toward him.

"William," she cooed, "you never told me that you wrote 'bloody poetry' before."

Spike slouched down in the bed. "And there was a reason for that. It's bloody awful."

"AAWW!" Buffy squealed running her fingers through his curls. "William writes bloody awful poetry." She leaned

into his ear and whispered breathily, "I like your poetry."

Suddenly, Buffy paused and sat straight up in the bed, a look of enlightenment coming onto her face.

"Spiiike, why were you called William the Bloody?"

"Oh, bollocks." Spike slide completely under the blankets so that she couldn't see him.

Buffy started laughing. "Oh, my God. You weren't called William the Bloody when you were alive because you

were a big bad, were you?"

"Shut up Slayer," came the muffled reply.

"Oh, come on Spike. You have to admit that it's funny."

"Stupid bint."

Buffy giggled and pulled the blankets over her head. Spike squeezed his eyes shut as she lowered her face

directly in line with his.

"Spike," she said softly.

When he didn't respond, she leaned forward and placed two whisper kisses on his eyelids. He still didn't open

his eyes, so Buffy slowly placed light airy kisses all the way down his face.

"I like your poetry, Spike," she breathed into his neck between kisses.

"No you don't. You're just saying that." He groaned as she began kissing her way down his chest.

"Yes, I do." She was kissing his stomach now.

"No you do-OH!" The conversation ended abruptly.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, what do you want to do today?" Buffy asked running her fingers up and down Spike's bare chest.

He chuckled into her hair. "Don't think there's too much of the day left, pet. We've been rather busy here."

"I know!" She glanced up at his face. "I wanna take you to dinner. I bet you've never eaten at a nice Italian

restaurant before, have you?"

"I've eaten some nice Italians before," Spike mused with a wicked grin as Buffy smacked him on the chest.

"You're such a pig."

"And you love it, pet." Spike leaned down to capture her lips in his.

Truth was, he didn't want to go to dinner. He never wanted to leave this bed again, but his growling stomach had

other ideas and he scowled as Buffy laughed.

"Come on, get dressed," Buffy said planting another kiss on his lips, and then quickly moving as he tried to wrap

his arms around her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The restaurant that Buffy had picked out was lit mostly by candlelight, and each table was decorated with a single

red rose in the center. She watched with amusement as Spike studied the menu in front of him. He kept asking

her questions about what things were, and how they tasted. He even sniffed the loaf of fresh bread brought with

their wine.

"Spike," Buffy giggled, "what are you doing?"

"Wot? Outside of that rice you made last night, I haven't really had to eat in over a hundred years. I don't

remember what I like."

Buffy laughed even harder. "That-that rice was only half cooked."

"Thought it was a bit hard on the teeth," Spike grumbled.

"Try the veal parmigana." Buffy suggested.

"Why? What is it?"

"Um, it's, er, well...people will think you're evil if you eat it."

Spike brightened at that thought.

"Really? People will think I'm evil. All right, I'll get it."

He looked at her for a moment, deep in thought.

"I won't really be evil though, you know. All human now, not evil...well, still the big bad, just not in the evil,

killing sense."

Buffy reached out and took his hand.

"You're still my big bad," she said smiling.

"Good, cos you're still my Slayer." Spike smiled back at her.

Their food arrived, and Spike poked the veal with his fork. He hesitantly cut off a bit, stuck it in his mouth, and

chewed thoughtfully.

"Well?" Buffy asked twirling fettuccini around her fork.

"It's good, tender. You going to tell me what it is I'm eating?"

"Baby cow."

Spike choked. "Christ, I am evil. 'T's still good though. What are you eating, luv?"

"Shrimp fettuccini alfredo. Here, try some."

Buffy carefully scooped up some shrimp and pasta, leaned across the table, and put it into Spike's open mouth.

He slid his mouth off the fork, and closed his eyes.

"That's really good. Wanna try mine?"

"No thanks, I'm not all for the baby killingness of that."

Spike shrugged, "your loss."

"Save room. We're so having crème brule for desert."

A little while later found Buffy watching Spike eat his way through his third crème brule.

"I can't believe that you've had three of those AND dinner, you are so gonna have a stomach ache later." Buffy

laughed. " Where are you putting all that food?"

Spike grinned at her wickedly.

"I haven't eaten in a very, very long time. 'Sides, I plan on having a very hearty work-out when we get home."

Buffy started to respond when she caught sight of a man staring at her from across the restaurant. She frowned

as she recognized him.

"Spike," she hissed, leaning over the table at him. "That's the guy, the guy who claims he saw me with Angel."

Spike glanced over to where she was gesturing, but he didn't see anyone that matched the description.

"Where's he at, luv? I don't see him."

"He's right there. The guy in the white shirt with the so last year long, dark jacket and the messy hair."

Spike squinted in the direction that she pointed, but he still didn't see anyone. He hoped that he wouldn't need

glasses again now that he was human.

"Sorry, pet. Not quite getting a visual."

"Spike, he's walking over here. How are you not seeing him?"

Spike glanced worriedly at Buffy. There wasn't anyone headed remotely near their table, not even a waiter. His

mouth dropped open as he watched Buffy tilt her head back as though she were looking at someone directly in

front of her.

"Why are you following us?" she demanded to the air, and then paused as though waiting for a response.

"What do you mean 'time is running out?' Time is running out for what? What's with all the stupid mysterious

riddles?"

"Uh, Buffy, luv?" Spike licked his lips nervously at her. "You do know that you're talking to air, right?"

Buffy shot him a look, and then turned her head back to the empty space in front of her. She cocked her head to

one side and glared.

"How can he not see you? You're standing right here. Oh, only I can see you?" She threw her hands up in the air.

"Great, now everyone here thinks I'm crazy girl talking to my imaginary friend...Okay, fine. Message received,

'reality is merely my perception' blah, blah, blah. Can't you come up with something a little more useful?"

Buffy turned back to Spike. "I think we need to do a little research about why I'm being followed by a psycho

that only I can see. Let's get out of here."

Chapter 8

<I>

The fact that she was sitting on the swing-set in the park again didn't surprise her. Neither did the fact that both

the children were still playing in the sandbox. Buffy kicked at the dirt beneath her feet, and let her arms curl

around the chains to rest in her lap.

"Hello Buffy."

That voice. Oh god, that voice. Buffy's head jerked up at the sound of it.

"M-mommy?" her voice came out high-pitched and little girlish.

Joyce sat down on the swing next to her, and gave it a little push.

"Yeah, it's me. Oh, I've missed you, Buffy. You have no idea how much."

"Mom, oh mom." Buffy felt tears begin to roll down her face. "I've missed you so much. It's been so hard without

you. I tried...but I-I made so many mistakes."

Joyce reached out a brushed the tears off of Buffy's face.

"I know baby. It's okay now. It's all okay. You're safe now, but...you need to choose."

Buffy looked at her mother.

"I-I don't understand. What am I supposed to choose?"

"One of the children, of course. I thought that was explained to you." Joyce turned her gaze to Liam and

Wilhemina. "I've always wanted grandchildren Buffy."

Buffy looked at her confused.

"But-but you're dead Mom. Having grandchildren won't change that."

Joyce sighed and tugged Buffy's hair fondly.

"You always were so stubborn. You get that from me, you know."

"I don't understand."

Joyce brought her hands to the chains of her swing and pushed off the ground.

"<b>That</b> you get from your father."

Suddenly Joyce was off the swing and standing directly in front of Buffy. She cupped Buffy's cheek in her hand.

"We're all waiting for you, you know. Waiting for you to choose."

"Who's waiting for me, Mom? Why do I have to choose?"

"You don't understand. You should have paid more attention in school Buffy."

"Paid attention to what? What am I not getting?"

"Reality, Buffy, is merely your perception."

</I>

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Buffy emerged from the bathtub feeling slightly better then she had when they had left the restaurant. She

paused when she heard low talking coming from the hallway.

"...I don't know...She's started talking to nobody, it was like Drusilla all over again...Yeah...Uh-huh...She says that

she keeps running into some man that insists he saw her with Spike...I haven't seen Spike since L.A...I'll keep that

in mind...I'll call you later, okay?"

"Who were you talking to?" Buffy asked as she leaned onto the doorframe of her bedroom.

Angel spun around in surprise.

"Buffy! I didn't hear you leave the bathroom. It's weird not to have vampiric hearing anymore."

"Who were you talking to?"

"Oh, uh, no one. Old friend from L.A. Thought I'd get a jump start on that research we talked about."

"What did your friend say?"

Angel stuck his hands in his pockets.

"He's going to look into it for me."

"I'm not crazy. There <I>is</I> a man following me."

"I didn't say that you were."

Buffy stamped her foot, " Then don't do that."

"Do what? What did I do?"

"You get all protecty on me, like I can't handle myself. I go in the bathtub and you're out here calling old friends,

comparing me to Drusilla, and then trying to treat me like I'm five."

"I'm not trying to treat you like you're five."

"Then <I>who</I> were you talking to?"

Angel closed the gap between them, and pulled her into his arms.

"Buffy, please, I just want to help you."

"Then help me, don't shut me out."

"Let's go to bed. We'll figure things out tomorrow."

Buffy sighed. She had to work tomorrow, and then they were having dinner with the Donetellos. In all the time

they had spent apart, he hadn't changed one bit. In Angel's mind she was forever going to be the sixteen-year-old

girl he'd fallen in love with.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She'd left for work before Angel was awake. Buffy knew that she'd be early for her shift, but the thought of having

to start the day with a fight just didn't appeal. What was wrong with her? Wasn't having Angel human and living

with her everything that she'd ever dreamed of? Wasn't this supposed to be her reward for all those years of

slayer service? And somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice answered no. This was what her younger

self had dreamed of, but those dreams had died out a long time ago. A tiny image of bleached hair flashed in

her mind and was gone before it could register.

To add to her mood, the sky opened up and let down buckets of rain, soaking her to the skin as she ran into the

café entrance. <I> Great. Why does Mr. Donetello insist that I wear a white shirt to work? </I>Buffy tried to peel

the shirt away from her skin, and it released with a suction noise. She sighed and headed to the small employee

bathroom in the back. Hopefully there was an extra shirt she could wear.

"Buffy!" Mr. Donetello's voice echoed through the café.

"Yeah?" she asked wiping her hands on her apron.

"We are out of cream. Be a good girl and run to the store, will you? And take the umbrella in the kitchen, if you

catch a death Bella will kill me."

Buffy took the money from his outstretched hand before heading into the kitchen where Mrs. Dontello was

standing over a pot of soup. She looked up from her stirring as Buffy came in.

"Buffy, we are still on for dinner, yes?" She waited for Buffy's nod before continuing. "Good because I make

Grandmama's special matzo ball soup for you. She get recipe from Jewish family she hid in war. You will love it."

Mrs. Donetello watched Buffy grab the umbrella from the corner of the room. "Where are you going in this

weather?"

"I'm just going to run to the store and get some cream."

"What?! In this weather? Is Cristof crazy? You will drown. You are no going. Tell him to go."

"Really Mrs. Donetello, it's okay. I don't mind." Buffy protested.

"Well I mind. I not have you catching your death of sickness on my hands." Mrs. Donetello pursed her lips together.

Mr. Donetello picked that moment to walk into the kitchen.

"Cristof! I forbid you to send Buffy out in this weather."

"But we are outta cream," he protested. "What I tell customers if they ask for cream? That weather is too bad to go

buy some?"

"You want cream? You go get cream."

Buffy turned to duck out of the kitchen as the two began yelling in Italian at each other. As much as she adored

both the Donetellos, it gave her belly rumblings when they fought, especially when they fought over her. It was

like flashbacking to the last few months of her parent's marriage.

Mr. Donetello brushed past her at the counter. He had his rain slicker on, so it was assumable that he lost the fight.

"I be right back. You go wait on new gentleman at table."

Buffy glanced up and was not surprised to see the man sitting there. She strode up to him pad in hand.

"So, I take it that other people can see you now, huh? Not so much with the invisibility now, are you?"

The man smiled at her.

"But I am. No one can see me but you."

Buffy's face slid from smirking to confusion.

"But Mr. Donetello told me to take your order..."

The man jerked his head toward the right side, and when Buffy followed the movement she saw another man

looking at her strangely.

"Uh, miss. I, uh, I'd like to order some coffee...If that's okay with you."

Buffy felt her face turn red.

"Coffee, right. Got it. You need cream, milk, or sugar with that?"

"Cream if you have it."

"Right. Coffee with cream for the very real gentleman at table nine."

Buffy spun on her heel to head back to the kitchen, but the man followed her.

"Go away," she hissed under her breath. "I DO NOT need people thinking that I'm all crazy girl talking to myself

and my imaginary friends."

"Why do you worry so much about what people think? You are different from them. They are beneath you." He

let his words echo in the air for a moment before leaning in close to her ear. "That which you think is the most

real is really the least real."

"God! What is it with you and the cryptic? I am not research girl, okay? All action, no research here."

"And when was the last time you spoke to any of your 'research' friends?"

Buffy paused. When was the last time she had spoken to Giles, or Willow, or Xander for that thought? Until he had

mentioned it, she hadn't even thought of any of them in...how long? Since before Angel had shown up on her

driveway. Buffy frowned suddenly.

Spike, not Angel had been on her driveway...but she said good-bye to Angel this morning, right? She brought

her hands up to her head, dropping the notepad on the floor, as a strange barrage of images from the past

several days ran through her head.

Spike burning his finger. Angel in the shower. Spike on the walk to work. Angel going shopping. Spike on the

back porch. Angel and the portraits. Spike and the poetry. Spike in the restaurant. Angel on the phone. The

children in the dreams. Her mother in the dreams.

Buffy dropped to her knees as a blinding flash of pain sliced through her chest, near her heart. The man leaned

over her for a moment.

"You're starting to figure it out."

"BUFFY!" Mrs. Donetello rushed out of the kitchen. "What wrong, <I>mia piccolina</I>?"

Buffy didn't answer. She closed her eyes and took long, deep breaths as the pain subsided. When she opened

her eyes again, the man was gone.

"I-I...I'm fine now. Just a little dizzy for a second, I'm okay."

Mrs. Donetello gave her a look that let Buffy know that she didn't believe her.

"I sending you home. I call Angel and tell him you are sick, and he must come get you."

Buffy nodded and allowed herself to be led to the small table in the backroom. She sat down with a sigh, and

buried her face in her arms. Within moments, she was asleep.

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