Part XIII

"So," Willow chirped as she and Buffy settled into their seats at the Expresso Pump. They had spent the better part of three hours perusing the mall, searching for just the right outfits for Dawn’s graduation dinner tonight as well as the festivities the following day. They had been too lost in their shopping fancies to talk about the slayer’s current guy situation or, that was what Buffy told herself. In truth, she had been procrastinating telling her anxious best friend’s of the previous night’s developments-developments that had the blond a confused, emotional mess inside though she concealed her distress as well as ever.

"So, what?" She asked, pretending to be engrossed in the café’s menu selections. She bit her lip as Willow’s eyes bore into her and it was only a matter of time before…

"Hey!" Buffy yelled indignantly when Willow snatched the menu out of her hands. "I was looking at that."

The redhead rolled her eyes in annoyance, clearly not amused with Buffy’s attempts at distracting Willow from questioning her about recent events.

"Whatever," the Wicca said, waving her hand between them. "You already know what you’re going to get. Every time we come here you get the same thing."

"Well," Buffy held her head up in defiance before finishing "maybe I wanna try something new for once." She knew it was lame but it was the only thing she could think of. Of course, when she saw the beaming smile that Willow gave her, Buffy knew her best friend’s mind had found an in.

"So, you wanna try something new?" Buffy nodded hesitantly, uncomfortable with Willow’s sudden change in attitude.

"Well," The Wicca continued, "that must mean that something in your life has given you so much stress that your usual cup o’ mocha goodness cannot contain. So," she lowered her eyes coyly and drew circles with her finger on her napkin, "I’m thinking that something mondolicious happened between you and the former Big Bad."

Buffy’s eyes bugged momentarily and her lips parted to deny it but that particular reply was snuffed with a pointed glare from Willow. Sighing in defeat, Buffy stared into the dark liquid, watching the ripples carry through it as she played with her stirring straw. "Careful, Wills," she said, "I don’t think Spike would like being referred to as the ‘former’ Big Bad."

Willow’s gentle chuckle elicited a matching sound from Buffy and the blond finally looked up from her cup. "Please, Buff. Spike hasn’t been the Big Bad since-oh, well, I could see where he wouldn’t like to be reminded of that fact."

"Yeah."

"But he was still the Big Bad in the demon-y world," she amended and Buffy couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s propensity to gush.

"Wills," Buffy interrupted.

"I know, I’m babbling." They shared another laugh before Willow turned serious eyes back to the slayer. "Okay, Buffy, enough stalling. What’s going on between you and Spike?"

Buffy laughed humorlessly. "You just get straight to the point, don’t you?"

"Because I know how you are." On Buffy’s look, Willow smiled reassuringly. "I’ve known you for eight years, Buffy and I’ve noticed a few quirks about you."

"And oh what quirks would those be?" The slayer deadpanned.

"The one I’m referring to now is your desire to always want to appear to be in control. You don’t want to worry others with your problems, so you try to deal with them yourself-especially if said problems appear to you as something that will alter your friends' opinion of you. So, instead of using one of us as a sounding board, you tend to internalize everything until it becomes one big jumbled up pile inside of you." Willow studied her best friend and noticed the resigned look of defeat in Buffy’s hazel eyes. Deciding to strike now, Willow continued.

"I mean, I know there are things that we all keep to ourselves but, Buffy," she reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand, "you do that with the most important things. I know you’ve been better about it the past two years. Hell, better is not the word for it. But I can still see that there are things that you’re holding back on. And I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume that those particulars have to do with a certain ex-neck biter."

Buffy smiled at the affection Willow displayed in with her un-PC term for Spike’s former status. She squeezed Willow’s hand, keeping it in her grasp for support as her other hand wafted through her hair.

Willow was right about everything. Even with her new openness, she often had trouble expressing her more intimate feelings, especially where Spike was concerned. Rarely had she talked about him these past two years, though her thoughts drifted to him constantly. But even when she did discuss him with someone, it was always abbreviated, never delving into the feelings she truly had-feelings that were resurfacing with a vengeance. She knew that, being the slayer, she had strength within her no one else possessed; a strength of body and spirit only the Chosen One had been granted. But her mind and emotions were just as human as anyone else's was. In her heart Buffy knew that with the things she had to face every night that, she, more than anyone needed the support and understanding of a non-judging ear. Spike had been that ear though she didn’t dare discuss with him her feelings about him. That particular she had laid on Tara until the witch had been taken from them so prematurely. When she had talked to Willow about things, the redhead had been the one to lay it all out, allowing Buffy to agree or disagree, and she never elaborated. That was how she had wanted it earlier but Willow had told her that she wanted to hear it from Buffy’s lips and the slayer was afraid of unlocking things she had shut away two years ago. Things that had begun to unlock themselves for the past few months.

"You’re right," Buffy sighed and expected to see Willow smile at her. Instead, she was met with a sympathetic nod, the witch’s love and support radiating from green eyes. It gave Buffy the courage to open up completely.

"I missed him so much, Wills," she confessed, her eyes displaying a sadness Willow had last seen in Buffy the year of her resurrection. "I mean, even when I started falling hard for Garrett, it was like a part of me was missing. It’s so hard to explain, I don’t know if I can…"

"You don’t have to," Willow interrupted and Buffy nodded her understanding. Willow knew exactly what it was like to have a piece of you go missing. First when Oz left and then the time Tara had left and her subsequent murder. If anyone knew what she was feeling, aside from Spike, it was Willow.

"Anyway, after being with Garrett for awhile, I started paving over that hole in my chest. That hole that had been ripped up by Angel and made bigger by my dad, Parker and Riley." The slayer hung her head, the grief threatening to overwhelm her though she knew instinctively that, once she got it all out, things would be come clearer.

"When I came back, there were so many holes in me, that that particular one was adrift in the maze. It wasn’t until Giles left that I remembered that it was there. And it hurt. It was like the stitches my resurrection put over it had been ripped out and that hole was open again, reminding me of all my failed relationships with men, whether it was romantic or fatherly. I didn’t think you guys could understand and I knew what you guys would say if I did come to you. I don’t think I would have been able to hear someone say ‘it’ll get better’ or ‘it could be worse’ without losing it."

"So you went to Spike," Willow chimed in. She had heard this story before though it had been grossly edited. She knew this was the real Buffy, the one that had been emerging the past two years. The Buffy that grabbed life around the neck, that didn’t keep things hidden within her. Willow knew the burgeoning confession would be hard and tears would be involved but she also knew that Buffy would be a stronger person once it was over. Not only that, but maybe, just maybe, she would figure out what Willow had known for sometime.

Buffy was head over heels in love with Spike.

***

It’s quarter to six by the time anyone gets back home. For the last four hours, I’ve been trying to keep my patience waiting for the girls to get back home. S’not like I haven’t been productive today. In fact, productive is not a strong enough word to describe my afternoon alone in casa de Summers. I’ve set a few appointments with realtors next week to check out some flats around town. The apartment guide I picked up when Buffy and I went out yesterday showcased some posh living quarters though there were only four that really piqued my curiosity. Thankfully, three of them are across town while the other one is the condo complex that used to be the warehouse district that used to be my old hiding spot. The reason I took to the ones across town was that in case Buffy stays with that Garrett bloke, I can be far enough away from her so that I won’t see her much but close enough to be called in as the cavalry when needed. I know it may be a negative way of thinking but even if something does happen between us we’ll at least have some space to figure out where we wanna go.

Speaking of space, I got a chance to talk to Rachel for the first time since Thursday night. I didn’t know how much I missed talking to her until today. This is the longest I’ve gone without seeing her in the last two years, considering I can count on one hand how many days I didn’t see her in that same time frame. She pitched to me an idea about franchising and I have to admit it’s a damn good one. God knows Sunny Hell needs something like the Blue Song here, what with all the bloody stress nights bring. She was even progressive enough to make a few calls Friday inquiring about lot vacancies here. Told me about three prospective sites and I set the appointments today. Sure wished she were here to do the negotiating since my patience isn’t one for that. Hell, if it were up to me, I’d do my best impersonation of Dutch Schulz and start proceedings with a forty-five in front of me, gangster like. Hell, two years ago I’d just show a little game face and I’d have my way but as it is, I really can’t go that route.

Aside from the business aspects of things and having her confirm that my car would be here Monday instead of Wednesday, I did some writing. I know, I am a poofter to the nth degree but, after last night and this morning, I had to get some things out on paper. I’m still surprised that they weren’t bloody pathetic like they used to be. To be honest, the more I went over them, the more I started thinking about Rachel’s idea. I didn’t ask her though, in case I change me mind. Plus I want someone else to read it-maybe Red or Rupert; of course, all that is on the stipulation that he doesn’t go Ripper on me and skewer me down center. Even if I survive our initial re-acquaintance, there’s still tonight to worry about.

"About Bloody time you chits get here," I snarl as Willow, Dawn and Buffy walk in the door. Their laughter dies down and they regard the person who would dare interrupt their conversation with a frigid stare. I watch as their stares melt as they take me in and I can’t help but fidget under their appreciative gaze.

"Spike," Buffy sighs as her eyes roam across my body. I smile before noticing the same stares from Red and Dawn and can’t help the flush that bursts across

my face. I’m wearing black leather loafers with matching black shirt that Rachel once joked as being ‘nothing but a condom for your upper body’. So it’s tight, sue me. My white silk pants and a matching unbuttoned vest complete the ensemble. I decided to go clean cut on this occasion and I’ve gone with the tousled look with my hair. I have to admit that I look pretty damn good-every time I’ve gone out in this get up, I’ve been the proverbial eye candy for the opposite sex. I know I’m not lacking in confidence but…but with the way Red and Niblet, especially Niblet, are looking at me, I feel myself reverting to William the Bloody awful poet.

Thankfully, Buffy breaks the ogle fest. "Dawn, Willow," she says, her hands on her hips, "try not to drool on the carpet." They both look at her and then back to me before they both flame red like I was earlier-serves ‘em right, though I have to admit they look so cute like that.

"Uh, I…uh," Dawn stutters and Willow tries for the save.

"We…were admiring…No, I mean, just-Spike in the sun. In white. You know how the sun reflects off of white and how that white kinda sets off his

eyes and…I don’t mean his eyes I mean…" I chuckle when she sighs and mumbles something about getting ready and retreats upstairs followed by an equally mortified Dawn. Me and Buffy listen to their retreat before we face each other. When I look into her eyes, the desire I saw not sixty seconds earlier is still there but that’s not what grabs my attention. Something is different about her; like a burden’s been lifted from her shoulders and I can only smile at her. At this moment, she looks like that same sixteen-year-old girl I saw dancing at the Bronze all those years ago, before slaying became a true burden, before she experienced her first heartache. Though I didn’t know it then, that was when I fell in love with her for the first time.

And now, seeing her like this, I can’t help but fall in love with her all over again.

"Thanks for the save, luv," I say, my smile devoid of all smirkiness. Balls, I just said 'smirkiness'. What the bloody hell is going on with me?

"You're welcome," she says softly and her eyelashes do this fluttery thing that makes me want to scream her name from the rafters and tell her just how much I love her. "Just saw that you were in need of the bail out is all."

"Yeah," I can't help but chuckle, "the way those two were…the way my Niblet was lookin' at me…" I trail off, shaking my head.

"C'mon, Spikey," Buffy teases and she glides over to me. She stops beside me and nudges me with her hip. "You know she had the biggest crush on you."

I smile sadly, my thoughts on a time where me and Dawn were as close I as I've ever been with anyone. That was a time where, in her eyes, I'd done nothing wrong. But everything's changed now.

"Yeah, everything has changed," Buffy says and I realize I said the last part out loud. The sympathetic look she gives me tells me that she knows exactly what I'm thinking about. "But one thing that hasn't changed, Spike," she lays a hand on my shoulder and a heated tingle races across my skin. "She still loves you. Always has. Always will. Nothing's gonna change that." She leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek before walking towards the steps.

I watch as she turns the corner and out of my view and, shoving my hands in my pockets, I sigh. I walk over to the window and peer out at the sun reflecting off the cars, some of its light bleeding through to the living room. Even after two years, I can't get over the fact that I can walk into the sun, and I don’t think I ever will. Seeing the sun again--sans the Ring of Amarra--was something I thought I'd never do. Of course, that falls into a long line of things 'Spike'll never do'. Falling in love with the slayer's definitely numero uno on that fantastic list. Getting a soddin' soul and taking a walk on the side of humanity was a two-for-one deal. Can't say I mind considering that, after a hundred and twenty plus years, blood was getting to be a little too stale for my tastes.

Running a hand through my hair, I chuckle at my last thought. Never did I think I'd crave anything more than blood, least of all not the slayer. But like Buffy said, things change, sometimes for the better. Other times not. I know Bit still loves me, but her opinion of me has probably changed, too and I'm pretty sure it's not for the better. Thing is, I'm terrified to find out for sure.

We arrive at the airport about ten till six. Willow and Dawn rode together, as did Buffy and me. When we got there, Xander was already there. Buffy had told me that Garrett was going to meet us at the restaurant, some new joint five miles away from the airport. Not that I'm afraid, but not having that Garrett bloke here suits me just fine. Don’t need the only three males in the group laying into me all at once.

I take a seat next to Willow and we start shootin' the shit, never really getting into anything although I can read her eyes and she really wants to talk about…other things. I do, too. In fact I need it as much as she does. Plus I wanna tell her how much I miss Glinda. She was a good bird and when I found out about what happened, I couldn’t help but shed a tear for her. If Willow hadn't killed that bastard Warren, he would have found out just why I got my nickname…

Twenty minutes later, a throng of people walk onto the concourse, bags in hand, tweed suits neatly buttoned. Definitely Brits.

It takes a few minutes before Giles comes into view and, without hesitation, Willow, Dawn and Buffy mob him. I watch the seen in amusement though it dies down when Xander walks past me. I can see he’s still in pain from our fight the other day and a part of me feels bad though the other part is proud that I didn’t put him through the wall. He throws me for a loop by giving me a curt nod before walking over to the Watcher. I can only gape at his gesture-there was no sign of hatred in his eyes, dislike, yeah-but no hatred. I shake the thought off and sigh, joining the others as I mentally prepare myself for the Wrath of Giles.

"It’s good to see you all," Giles says as he finishes greeting the Scoobies by clasping Xander on the back. I watch the love filter through his gaze as he looks at each of them in turn and I feel a little envious of it. When Willow pulled the memory mojo on all of us, I remember how it felt when I thought that Giles was my father. Sure, I talked a big game, as always, but deep down all I wanted was his respect and approval. It was something I had a hard time admitting to myself as a vampire and, even now, I have trouble thinking about it-especially since I will never have his respect.

" ‘Lo, Rupe," I say, my smirk backing my false bravado. Giles turns to me and the surprise in his eyes is quickly consumed by anger and…disappointment? My smirk falters for a moment and Giles responds by concealing his own emotions.

"Spike," he returns and nods woodenly. Everyone’s eyes are on us as we stare at one another, communicating without words. The anger that’s bubbling within him, just below the surface dives a little further down as he notices the light shining through the window and directly onto me. It’s comical to see Rupert’s eyes bug out and I catch Buffy shooting me a smile and my own smirk broadens.

"It’s a long story," Buffy states before Giles has a chance to ask about my new sunful condition. "A story that will have to wait until later," Her voice is firm and Giles nods but not before removing his glasses and polishing them furiously with a handkerchief.

"Yes, well…" he mutters and peeks through the lenses before placing them back onto his face and his eyes twinkle with happiness once more. "It is a special night as tomorrow will also be special." His smile towards Dawn and the subsequent arm he wrapped around her is a something that only a father would do and I realize now that it’s not just Buffy, or even Dawn, that Giles sees as his children. It’s all the Scoobies. I grin at the reunion, happy for them all, though the envy within me grows and blisters until it burns me within.

Once, just once, I wish someone would look at me that way, accept me with such open arms.

As we walk back towards the car and I glance towards Dawn who is talking animatedly with Giles, I can’t help but to feel an overwhelming rage within me. Not at them but at myself. The fact of the matter is that I did have someone who accepted me for the monster that I was, who never looked down upon me. Dawn always had a kind word or a warm smile for me. But of course I bollocks’d it up by ‘urtin Buffy and runnin’ away like the ponce I had always been.

Yeah, William, you cocked-up everything. The thing that ‘urts the most is that, no matter what happens from here on, she’ll never look at me the same again. And that is something I'll have to live with for the rest of my life.

***

When they walked into the restaurant, Spike whistled. Never would he have thought that a fine establishment such as The Velvet Rope (soddin’ stupid name) would have been only a stone’s throw from Sunnyhell. But it was here and the number of people seated throughout sparked ideas of expanding his own bar into his mind.

The place wasn’t quite out in the middle of nowhere though it was far enough away from Sunnydale to comfortably call the drive an ‘outing’. It was a perfect location for those who wanted to get away from the strange rumblings of unknowingly living on a Hellmouth for a few days as a very posh hotel stood next to the Rope.

As his eyes traveled across the patrons, he recognized that everyone was dressed quite elegantly. It was not quite formal wear though there were definitely no jeans or sneakerwear permitted within.

Shrugging his shoulders, Spike followed the others as the maitre d escorted them to a reserved room. Giles had rode with he and Buffy and Spike relinquished the front seat to the Watcher. He had remained quiet the whole time, content on listening to Buffy ramble on towards her father figure. He watched as Giles had smiled warmly at Buffy though he noticed that when she wasn’t sliding her eyes over towards the gray-haired man, Ripper cast hard, inquisitive eyes at him in the rearview mirror. Spike knew that Giles was holding back the questions and actions he wanted to pummel the vampire with and Buffy also knew that, too. Spike saw how she gripped the steering wheels, her knuckles whitening, that her conversation was a means of saving Spike’s ass from a potential Ripper tirade.

As it was, after they had arrived, Giles gave Spike a pointed look that said ‘we will talk’ and the former vampire had nodded his assent. He couldn’t help but laugh after the fact, though, considering that he needed to schedule time for each and every Scoobie.

Course, the Niblet’s first on that list, he thought ruefully as the finally arrived at the reserved room. He moved to sit down but a gentle hand on his arm caused him to look up.

"Sit by me," Dawn said, her voice shy and hopeful. As much as he didn’t believe he deserved it, Spike saw the love and adoration the youngest Summers still held for him glistening in her eyes. Not trusting his voice to sound over the lump that materialized in throat, he nodded and followed her towards the end of the table.

Taking a moment, Spike regarded the young woman in front of him. Her midnight blue dress accented her curves though it was not what he would call inappropriate. A silver chain with a matching bracelet and sapphire earrings that complimented her dress and shoes made up the rest of her ensemble. Her hair was curled and bounced on her shoulders when she sat down. She had kept the make-up to a minimum and still she was radiant. Spike smiled to himself, knowing that if he had met her now, Buffy may never have gotten a second look.

Speaking of the slayer, Spike marveled at her simple elegance as she joked with Xander. She wore a long white skirt that stopped just above her ankles and clung to the delicate curves of her hips while a spaghetti-strapped gray blouse that complimented her chest was the second article. A silver bracelet was snaked around her left bicep and two diamond earrings were barely visibly from under her free flowing hair.

"Beautiful, isn’t she?" Giles whispered in his ear and Spike had to force himself from jumping away.

"Cor, she is," he responded, though his eyes darted warily from the slayer to her Watcher.

"She has grown so much in the years I have known her. She is the daughter that I will never have," Spike felt Giles’s eyes turn on him and the ex-vampire met the sharp, dangerous eyes that were encased behind glasses. "A daughter that I will do anything for."

" S’nothing I don’t already know, Rupes," Spike replied flippantly, though he couldn’t help the butterflies that danced in his stomach as he was introduced to the infamous Ripper.

"Than you also know that if anything…and I do mean anything…happens to her while you are hear, William, I will hold you personally responsible and act accordingly. Do I make myself clear?" The smile that Giles gave him was one that Spike doubted Angelus could match and he shivered involuntarily at the promises Giles words held.

"Crystal," Spike replied after a moment’s silence. Giles nodded and patted him on the back before turning his attention to Willow.

"So," Dawn nudged his are with her elbow, "what did he say?" Spike couldn’t hold back the grin at seeing her beautiful blue eyes wide in anticipation.

"Only that, despite my current status as one of the living, shall I desire to remain so, I will behave." He chuckled at the ‘o’ her lips formed and instinctively traced her jaw with his knuckles. He was surprised when she leaned into it and she spoke so only he could hear it.

"Don’t think you’re done getting the threats," she warned, her voice steady, "because we still have to talk. Like tonight." Her voice wavered on the last part and Spike took the opportunity to take her mind away from things.

"That we do, Niblet," he said and raised up enough to kiss her on the top of her head, "but first, we’re going to celebrate your graduation." His heart expanded when she smiled at him and Spike threw her a wink before turning towards Buffy who had finally taken her seat across from him.

"So," he said, absently playing with his napkin, "been here before?"

Buffy couldn’t help but smile at Spike's nervousness. Usually, during their 'relationship', she had been the one who would fidget and avert her eyes. This new change in Spike, the way he went from sure and cocky to shy and uncertain was a wrinkle but it was a wrinkle she kind of liked.

"Yeah," she said cheerily, "it's Garrett's favorite place and…" she stopped when she realized what she said and dropped her eyes to the table.

Spike was surprised at how much it hurt to hear her talk about Garrett with so much enthusiasm. Yeah, by their conversation last night, he knew Buffy loved the guy; still, it didn’t make things any easier. He forced the dagger of pain away and coaxed a smile onto his face.

"Well, guess I can scratch this off my list of places to take my honey," Buffy's head shot up, her hazel eyes wide and her cheeks flaming. Finally, after realizing they weren't alone, Buffy gave him a tentative smile.

"Guess so," she replied and almost burst out laughing at the shock evident on his face.

"So," Spike said to Buffy after a few minutes of idle talk. "Bank boy coming anytime soon?" he queried nodded towards the empty seat next to the slayer.

"He should be here soon," Buffy replied while she wrung her hands incessantly under the table. She was very nervous at the moment and, considering that her fiancé (of a sort) was coming but also the ex she had just made out with not twenty hours ago was sitting directly across from her, she had good reason to be just a tad uncomfortable. Couple that with the fact that, aside from Willow, the others knew nothing about said make-out session, Buffy wasn't sure she could stand up under the guilt.

God, what am I gonna do? She thought as her eyes drifted to the door again. I mean, one look at Garrett and I know I'm gonna freak out. What am I gonna say to him? How am I gonna act? The questions whirled unbidden through her mind and she didn’t see the bronze-skinned man stroll into the room.

"Evenin', Scoobs," Garrett greeted cheerily and everyone looked up at him. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit and he held his jacket casually over his shoulder. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, exposing powerful forearms and his tie hung loosely around his unbuttoned collar.

"Hey G," Xander addressed the man and cursed when Garrett ran a hand through the brunette's hair. "Damn it, Garrett, you know I hate when you do that."

"I know," he said and gave Willow a kiss on the cheek, "that's why I do it." Spike caught the mischievous gleam in his gray eyes and couldn’t hold back a chuckle and again he was struck with the fancy that, if circumstances were different, he and Garrett would most likely have gotten along.

"Hey, baby," Garrett said to Buffy and swooped down for a kiss. At the last moment, he caught himself and instead of the lips, planted a kiss on her cheek. He cursed himself for the slipup and the fact that the others would definitely know something was going on.

Placing his coat on the back of his chair, Garrett ignored the suspicious looks of Giles and Xander as well as the--sympathetic? --Eyes of Willow.

"Hey, D," Garrett winked at Dawn before coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her neck.

"Garrett, air," she joked, slapping him on the thigh. He pulled away in mock pain, muttering something about the strength of slayer genes being passed down.

Spike was in his own world, trying to distance himself from his continual feelings of respect he had for Garrett when he caught an outstretched hand in front of him. Looking up, he saw Garrett, whose face held genuine respect, waiting for Spike to take his hand. With only the slightest hesitation, Spike shook hands with the man who then made his way over to Giles.

Spike risked a glance around the table and caught all the Scoobies eyeing him and Garrett. His eyes dropped before he could discern the conflicting emotions that stared back at him. He fingered the silver ring on his right finger, studying the glint of light of its shiny surface. He caught Garrett finally taking a seat next to Buffy and noticed the minute shift of Buffy towards Garrett. Spike's heart cracked at the gesture, knowing that it wasn't something Buffy did on purpose, rather on instinct. It only proved to him even more that Buffy truly did love Garrett.

Spike turned towards Dawn when he felt her hand brush across his arm, her eyes full of concern. He smiled tightly though Dawn wasn't fooled. She nodded and turned back to the conversation between Buffy and Garrett. Spike did the same, though he feigned interest in what the Watcher was saying to Red and the Whelp. But try as he might, he could not shake the feeling that, once again, he didn’t deserve Buffy, that he didn’t deserve to love her.

His confidence had wavered and, like Cecily and Drusilla, Spike found himself as the runner up. It didn’t matter whether he had a soul or not--it would all turn out the same regardless.

It all boiled down to him not being good enough and, the quicker he accepted it, the better off he would be.

Interlude

The Dinner

One thing that Spike loathed about high-class restaurants were the lack of simple food items on the menu. They rarely carried dishes that did not have either 1) five or more syllables 2) accents over every third letter or 3) were just plain weird. The current establishment that he was dining in didn’t carry the Bloomin’ Onion. Not only had he made his disgruntled mood known to the waiter but the six other people sitting at the table as well.

"I mean, you’d think a fine establishment such as this," he said, heavy on the sarcasm with a light sprinkle of dissatisfaction, "would at least have the bloody decency to have it. S’not like it’s gonna kill the blighters to put one little extra on their big, shiny menu, now would it?" He capped the rant off by waving said menu in the air, his disgust evident.

"Yeah," Dawn said in a much too chipper voice, "and while they’re at it, for a side item why not throw Cheetos on the list, cuz, hey, gotta have the cheesy goodness." Her bright smile dissolved into a fit of giggles at Spike’s indignant huff.

"Thanks a lot, Niblet. Thought you’d be on my side, at least," he admonished and hung his head in an attempt to gain sympathy. The unexpected gesture knocked everyone at the table off kilter and it took them a minute to recover. By the time they did, the impish grin on Spike’s face had everyone lost in laughter.

The laughter died down as the waiter set down the appetizers on the table. "Not one to back up the ex-bleached dead boy," Xander supplied as he examined the roach-like shells of the mussels that were set before him, "but it couldn’t hurt if they, you know, introduced food that the common folk could enjoy." His last words were punctuated by experimental pokes at the mussels.

"Y’see," Spike said warily at Xander’s statement, " ‘M not the only one who thinks that this place is lacking a certain amount of-manliness."

"Of course," Giles deadpanned, "what would a five-star restaurant be without cheap American beer and peanut shells littering the walkways."

"Don’t forget the blaring of music by bands chosen solely for their ability to dance," Buffy interjected, an all too familiar smirk etched in her features.

"Hey!" Dawn protested. "That is so not true. Justin can really sing-he just can dance good, too."

"Dawnie’s right," Willow supported, "he can sing. It’s just those other nefarious tag-alongs that lack true vocals."

"That’s not true," the teen argued. "Lance…Lance Bass can sing."

"But I thought you said the only reason you liked him was because he reminded you of…" Buffy began but was interrupted by a squealing and decidedly embarrassed Dawn.

"You’re right, Giles," she hurried, "they can’t sing. Don’t you agree, Buffy?" She asked and shot her sister an equally menacing and pleading look.

"Well," the slayer teased, "I guess so. Still, I think you were…"

"So, Spike," the former Key said, turning poignantly towards her former crush, "Buffy said you were in San Diego. What were you doing there?"

A part of the Big Bad still left in him whispered to continue the assault on the teen but the desperate eyes that stared back at him were too much and Spike knew that Dawn’s pleading look was his kryptonite. Resigning himself to be wrapped around the youngest Summers’s finger for the rest of his natural life, Spike answered her question.

"Well, actually, San Diego was a stopover for my transport to Africa."

"Africa?" Xander asked and Spike was surprised at the genuine curiosity not to mention the toned down hostility coming from the brunette. "I mean, in your original persuasion, wouldn’t a place like Africa be, oh I don’t know, the last place on earth you’d wanna be?"

Spike chuckled at Xander’s question though the humor died from his eyes as he answered truthfully. "To be honest, Harris, anyplace was better than being here," he pointed to his head, "and here," then laid his hand over his chest. Sensing that everyone knew what he was referring to, he immediately switched topics in an effort to lighten the mood lest he be the target of angry stares that he knew he still deserved.

"Anyway, found my own personal transporter."

"I knew they had Star Trek technology somewhere," he muttered and aloud, "so, did it look like the ones they have on Stark Trek?" Garrett was the only one to respond as the others merely rolled their eyes.

"Uh, Xan," he said as if talking to a three-year-old, "we live in what’s called the real world. Now, repeat after me; ‘Star Trek is not real. It is a product of one Gene Roddenbery's imagination. There are no Klingons, Romulans or Ferengis.’" He finished by giving the Construction Supervisor a placating smile that was returned with a not-so pleasant hand gesture.

"Bet people said the same thing about demons and vampires back in the day," a defeated Xander muttered.

"Anyway, as I was sayin’," the former vampire continued, "t’was a bloke there that took to such transportationally deficient denizens of the underworld such as myself."

"Wow, Spike," Buffy joked, "never heard you speak so well of yourself before." She batted her curved eyelashes at him and it was all that he could not to jump over the table and finish what they had started the night before.

"Well, what can I say?" He sneered before drowning out her laughter with his voice. "Anyway, this wanker’s like ‘I’ll drop ya right off in Africa and bring ya back, too.’ ‘Course, the stipulation was me possessing something to trade." His eyes narrowed at the mussel he held between his fingertips before slamming his head back and devouring the meat trapped inside the shell.

"Well it just so happens that this particular gateway demon’s pretty partial to any sort o’ transportation with two wheels."

"So this demon," Giles interrupted, "whose ability to open portals that bridge halfway across the world is a…motorcycle collector?"

"Got it in one, Rupes. So I go to him, tell ‘im where I want to go and what I’m willin’ to trade and he’s like okay. I ask him if it’s a two-way thing and he says yeah, that he’ll bring me back and I’m like great. Gave me this crystal to break when I was ready to come back. So, he does his mojo and conjures the portal and as I’m walkin’ thru, he throws this soddin’ caveat about not being entirely accurate. Bloody ponce threw me in the middle of nowhere with about two hours to sunset. ‘Ad to run for my bloody unlife to find shelter before the sun came up. Barely made it, too.

"Anyway, after I passed the trials, went to the same place I was dropped off, broke the amulet he gave me and was whisked back in good old California. ‘Course, I landed about an hour outside of San Diego but it was no big."

"So what happened," Willow asked, "after you got there? I mean did…did you feel guilty a-about the things you had done?"

"God, yes," he whispered as the thought of how that first month had felt. All the people that had died at his hands, having their lives drained from them by his sharp teeth ripping into their flesh. Mentally shaking himself from the memories, Spike continued again but forced a lilt of joviality to his tone.

"Anyway, I wasn't in San Diego even a week before I met Rachel." At the mention of the raven-haired woman that Spike had kissed on stage, Buffy snorted unconsciously.

"Rachel? Who's she?" Dawn intervened, her eyes darting between that of an obviously jealous sister and an equally amused ex-vampire. So concerned with the two former lovers that Dawn, as well as the others, missed the flash of pain that crossed over Garrett's face.

"Whoa," Xander whistled, "ex-dead boy's got a main squeeze? You cheeky devil you." Spike glared at Xander for several seconds before bursting into a silly grin. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that he and the whelp'd be best buds but the hostility in the brunette's eyes was a little less sharp, a bit more understanding. And though he'd die a thousand times before admitting it, Spike kind of liked it.

"Rachel was co-owner of the Blue Song with me. Like I said, ran into her about a week after getting to San Diego. Gave me a place to stay till I could suss things out."

"Did she know about your previous incarnation?" Giles asked hesitantly.

"Yep. Told her everything," Spike said and made brief eye contact with Buffy before turning his attention towards everyone else.

"So, this Rachel," Xander quipped, "was she crazy or a ditz? Cuz, to be honest, Spike, your track record with women isn't…so good," the last part was whispered as six sets of eyes pinned him with death glares. Suddenly, the mussels became quite an interesting item.

"So you told her everything?" Garrett asked, getting back on track. On Spike's nod, he continued. "How did she take it?"

"Wasn't surprised actually. That's not to say that San Diego is the hotspot for demon kind like SunnyD and Hell-A, but I've seen my fair share of hell raisers there and she had too."

"So, did wonder woman do any fighting?" Buffy asked with a light edge of sarcasm.

Spike smiled inwardly at her muted jealousy but did nothing to show that he'd heard it. "Actually, bout a year after we bought the club, she did tag along with me one night. Almost ended up as a tasty treat." He barely contained his mirth when he saw Buffy mouth 'too bad', oblivious of Spike staring at her lips. Luckily, not even Garrett had caught her slip and Spike decided to file it away for future torment, er, reference.

"Okay," Dawn piped up, "rewind back a year. What happened when you two met? How did you get the bar? And what's gonna happen to it now that you're gone and when can I go see it?" Spike smiled at the rapidity of her questions and held his hands up in defense.

"Slow down, Niblet," he recommended. "Give a bloke a chance to form an answer." He patted her arm affectionately as he spoke and she beamed at his touch.

"To answer the first question, we just seemed to connect that first day. Bumped into ‘er outside her flat, I did. Don’t know what, but she saw somethin’ in me, hiked me up to her place before I had nary a word to say. I was still disoriented, mind you and that’s when I started babbling. Told her everything. S’all I did that first week-that and cry," the last word was spoken so quietly that everyone had to strain their ears to piece it together.

"Anyway," he continued, oblivious to the concerned stares, "she really helped me along, even convinced me to come back ‘ere."

"Wait a minute," Dawn interjected, "I thought you came back because Buffy found you."

Spike winced at the confusion in Dawn’s tone and knew she wouldn’t like what he had to say. Taking a deep breath, he explained. "Did come back, Niblet. ‘Bout a month after I left."

"You came back?" She asked incredulously and he nodded. "And you didn’t come to see us? See me?" The pain he saw in her beautiful blue eyes rocked Spike's resolve and he barely contained his guilt.

"I-I’ll explain later, Dawn," he replied in all seriousness and she only smiled at him. No one was fooled by the false cheer she applied and Spike knew that the little tidbit of information might have set his reconciliation with her back a few steps.

"So," Willow spoke up, "how did you get the bar?"

"Well," Spike said, grateful for the reprieve, "when me and ‘Night started talking…"

" ‘Night’?" Buffy asked arching an eyebrow.

" ‘S’my nickname for her cuz her hair was so dark. Eyes too."

"That’s original," the slayer muttered and crossed her arms petulantly.

"That it isn’t, Goldilocks," he emphasized the last part and Buffy blushed furiously at the implication. "But like I said, when we got to talkin’, she suggested I turn back to poetry and…"

"Wait," Xander interrupted, "did you say turn back to poetry? When were you ever into it?"

Spike tried to hide the embarrassment at his first mortal life but failed miserably and a red flush coated his cheeks. "S’not important," he grumbled, "the important thing is that she gave me an idea to do somethin’ with myself. So, I took the money I ‘ad saved up and…"

"You had money saved up?" Giles asked, removing his glasses.

"How much?" Garrett questioned.

"Bloody ‘ell, people. Contrary to popular belief, some of us vampires-well, ex-vampires-some of us do have the soddin’ initiative to save a pound here and there. And here I thought the lot of you were above the stereotypes associated with creatures of the night," he reprimanded.

"Oh yeah," Buffy replied, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Because you ‘creatures of the night’ aren’t into the whole destruction and mayhem thing. Or the whole drink blood, allergic to sunlight issues and you never cheat at kitten poker."

"Kitten poker…?" Dawn asked but Buffy didn’t hear her.

"And you most certainly don’t mooch off a slayer and her watcher for cash just to help." When she was done, Buffy crossed her legs roughly, bumping the table and rolled her eyes.

"So," Giles said, eyeing his surrogate daughter warily, "this whole time, you’ve had money that you could have been using to purchase your own goods and yet you extorted…"

" ‘Extort’ is such an ugly word, Rupes," the Brit drawled, smirk firmly entrenched across his face.

"Then what would you call it?" The Watcher demanded.

"I’d say it was a fair exchange of goods and services. Ask demon-girl, bet she’d appreciate my capitalistic forthrightness," he smiled though a blush threatened to overwhelm him at the thought of his last time with Anya.

"Whatever," Buffy grunted before fixing Spike with a radiant--and quite fake--smile. "So when do we all get a tour of the place because I’d love to see the ins and outs of it."

"Well, pet," Spike goaded, "thought you already took the short tour."

"But Spike," she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and batting her eyes at Spike, "I so have to meet your wonderful friend."

"You saw her, Buff?" Xander asked ignoring the slayer’s escalating attitude.

Seeing that she was being addressed directly, Buffy’s attitude dropped two levels and she turned to Xander. "Yeah, she was on stage with him."

"On stage?" Willow pried. "As in singing on stage?"

"As in Spike singing on stage?" Dawn grinned.

"Yes," Buffy answered with a genuine smile, "Spike was singing and playing the guitar."

All eyes turned towards the blonde-tipped head of the former vampire that wanted nothing more than to crawl underneath the table.

"Who’da thunk it," Xander quipped, shaking his head, "Mr. Big Bad making with the American Idol. I have officially heard it all."

"Actually," Buffy said, "he didn’t sound too bad." She gave Spike a wink and he relaxed visibly. As brazen as he was, he still felt needles of apprehension when it came to his poetry or musical talents.

"So," Garrett whistled, "are you gonna sing for Graduation Girl here?" Spike glanced at the other man, looking for signs that Garrett was being condescending but Spike saw nothing of the sort in his gray eyes. All he saw was the mirth dancing back and forth and-oh, yes, the pain.

But before he could examine it further, Dawn slapped him on the arm. "So you’re gonna sing for me, Spike? You so have to." Spike was taken aback by her ready acceptance of him, despite finding out that he had been back to Sunnydale without contacting her. He owed her big time and a song, though small, would be the perfect place to start his groveling.

"Sure, Bit," he said and ran a hand across her velvety locks, "s’only fair since Big sis got to hear me. But it’ll have ta wait. Tomorrow?"

Dawn stuck out her lip, pouting and nodded her head sullenly. "Fine, tomorrow it is."

"Hey," Willow objected, "what about me? Do I get a song, too?" Her shimmering green eyes pled with him and Spike knew that there was no way he could deny her, either.

"Cor," he growled in consternation, "what is it with me and not being able to say no to beautiful women?" Both Dawn and Willow turned a fiery red and Buffy hid her face in her hands while the other men smiled, nodding in agreement.

"Guess I’ll have to agree with you there, Spikey," Xander sighed. "These three little ladies are something special, aren’t they."

"I’ll second that," Garrett said and patted Buffy’s leg under the table while throwing winks at Willow and Dawn. "What’s a fella to do?"

"Yes," Giles offered as the waiter returned with their main courses, "what indeed."

"Okay," Willow spoke up, "now that you guys are done embarrassing us utterly and completely, tell us a little more about your friend, Spike."

"Sure," he replied and downed another mussel. "Like I said, me an' Rachel took the money I 'ad and bought the majority shares of this club called Winston's. I know, right nancy boy name--sorta like Rupert," Spike patted the Watcher on the back and chuckled throatily at the older man's incredulous stare.

"So how did it get the name Blue Song?" Buffy asked. Though they had talked a lot about the club (though not about Rachel, thankfully) he hadn't told her where it had gotten it's name.

"Kinda two-fold, actually," he said and leaned back in his chair. "The way I was feelin', I wanted a place where ladies and gents with burdensome thoughts could come an' get 'em of their chests. Rachel came up with the name." He ducked his head and ran a hand through his tousled locks. "Said it reminded 'er of me."

"Okay," Buffy smiled, "but, gotta be honest, you really don't look like the blue boy to me."

"Thanks ever so, luv," he fired back teasingly before dropping his head again. "Said it reminded 'er of me eyes."

"Oh, that's sweet," Willow said and on Buffy's look amended, "in an utterly cheesy way." She gave Spike an apologetic smile and he winked his acceptance of it.

"So you have blue eyes," Xander supplied, "and she just added the song part or is there something else to it that's overly poetic," the last word emphasized.

"Actually, you're dead on, mate. Wasn't just that my eyes were blue that got 'ere attention but she said there was a story she read in 'em. A story that could be sung to the world, as she put it." He shrugged his shoulders before continuing. "So in renovatin' the place, I wanted to make it somethin' special, like that Caritas bar Peaches frequents in LA. Found a right lovely Wicca and her warlock hubby to cast a spell o’ sorts on the place."

"Spell?" Giles asked his voice full of reproach. "What kind of spell?"

Spike dismissed the inquiry with a wave of his hand. "Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Rupes. This was white hat mojo all the way, none of the dark stuff."

"What did it do?" Willow asked curiously. Ever since coming back from England, she had taken a vested interest-when time permitted-to studying the various forms of white magic and the positive effects it could have when used properly.

"Well, it’s quite simple, really. Bloke comes to the stage, sings ‘bout his troubles and that’s when the spell kicks in. Takes his-or her-troubles and disperses them from the host’s body."

"So, it’s like a Hayoka?" Garrett asked. On the Scoobies puzzled looks, he explained. "I…I saw it on Highlander once. This Native American immortal that was Duncan’s friend was the Hayoka of his tribe."

"Okay," Spike said, "still not followin’ ya."

"In…in the texts that I have read, a Hayoka is…is sort of a filter," Giles interceded. "He, or she, absorbs the evil from a person into his or herself, allowing that person a…a new beginning. A clean slate, emotionally, that is."

"The anger and pain that the person is feeling transfers to the Hayoka from the subject like Giles said," Garrett added. "It doesn’t totally remove it but lessens it considerably."

"But what about this hi-yoda?" Buffy asked. "Wouldn’t he get overwhelmed if he did that too much?"

"Not necessarily," Garrett supplied. "Hayokas are similar to slayers in a way, being that they are both ordained at birth. After I saw Highlander, I did a bit of research on the term and found that much of what the show said about it was accurate." He glanced around, noticing that everyone’s gaze was fixed on him.

"As it is, all humans are born with a finite capacity to contain negative emotions before said negative emotions start to eat away at the person’s innate goodness. In theory, a Hayoka possesses an infinite amount of space for that negativity."

"So they can like, what, absorb pretty much all the negativity in the world and never be corrupted?" Buffy questioned. Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought back to that particular Highlander, remembering Garrett watching it late one night as she dozed. "Hey, wasn’t that the one where Duncan tried to kill Richie?"

"What?" Xander hissed. "I thought Richie was like his Padawan. Why would he try to kill him?"

"Well, Duncan’s friend, the Coltec Hayoka had taken in too much evil and it overwhelmed him. Duncan had to kill him and when he did, the dark quickening he received overrode his moral compass, hence, evil Duncan."

"But I thought the Hayoka thingies were supposed to have infinite capacity for that stuff," Dawn reminded. "So what happened?"
"Guess he wasn’t a bottomless well after all, Niblet," Spike replied.

"So if that’s the case, what’s going to happen to the two that performed the spell at your place?" Buffy asked, her back straightening as she made to go into slayer mode.

Spike smiled at her transformation, his love for her growing even more. "S’okay, luv, they don’t absorb it into themselves."

"So what do they do?" She pressed.

"There’s this talisman-the Dansian Crystal-some rot like that."

"The…the Dansian Crystal?" Giles prodded. "Are…are you sure?"

"Look, mate," Spike replied, "this is the Niblet’s dinner, time for the celebratories. Not some forum for talk on some thousand year old crystal or knock-off." He gazed at Giles sternly and the watcher returned his gaze before backing down.

"Yes, Spike," he said and polished his glasses with a napkin, "you’re quite right. This is Dawn’s day, er, night and it shall be treated accordingly."

"Damn straight," Spike quipped and Dawn punched him lightly in the arm.

"Watch your bleedin’ tongue," she teased and laughed when he gave her what was supposed to be a menacing glare.

"Keep jokin', Nibs," Spike growled, "and see if you ever get your present."

"Presents?" She asked eagerly. "There's gonna be presents?" She rubbed her hands together excitedly and everyone broke out in laughter.

"There might be," Spike intimated and threw a sly grin at the graduating teen.

"Well Dawnie," Buffy smiled and touched her sister on the arm, "guess that means you'll have to be nice to darling Spikey for another," she glanced at her watch, "sixteen hours."

"Do I have to?" She whined.

"Hey!" Spike grunted indignantly, "sitting right here."

"Oh, you are, aren't you?" Xander joshed.

"Unfortunately for me," Giles murmured. Everyone turned towards the Watcher in disbelief and he squirmed under the scrutiny. "What?"

"Knew you had a pulse somewhere under that stuffy upper crust British veneer, mate," Spike remarked and patted him on the back.

"Eat your food, you prat," Giles growled and everyone burst into laughter.

Leaning across the table, Garrett fixed Giles with a serious stare and whispered conspiratorially. "How did you survive so long around this people?"

Giles leaned forward and, removing his glasses replied, "You have no idea."

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