Collide

By: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-15

Disclaimer: The standard "I don't own; please don't sue."

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff; anywhere else just ask.

Summary: What if that house-demolishing in Smashed was a metaphor with a different meaning than the writers gave it? What if that night marked a release of a different sort? Goes seriously AU immediately after Smashed, and makes reference to my short story, "The Promise I'm Keeping," written for summer_of_spike.

Preface (Or an absurdly long author's note)

It's no secret that I have a love/hate relationship with Season 6 of Buffy. On the one hand, it spurred me to both seek out and write fanfic, so that's good. On the other hand, it made me genuinely dislike—if not hate—characters I had loved. In any case, the inspiration for this story came from several conversations with jen_nsync_landl, talesofspike, spikereader, and Jennifer Crusie's essay in Seven Seasons of Buffy. Because her interpretation of that last scene in Smashed is so crucial to the story, I've reproduced it below. Again, without permission, so please don't sue.

"In what was evidently one of the great botched metaphors in the history of storytelling, Buffy and Spike consummate their relationship and demolish a derelict mansion in their throes. Houses are a common symbol for people in stories...and this one seems to clearly represent Buffy's once rich but now derelict past life. She has died in one life and been resurrected into a new one, but she's clinging to the past, living in the decaying shell of her former existence, an old life that must be rejected before she can live fully in the new world. When she embraces Spike, she embraces the dark side of her destiny, an adult rejection of the simplistic good/evil universe of her childhood, freeing herself to move into the future...Their consummation takes them to the deepest levels, both symbolically and literally as they fall into the basement, and leaves Buffy standing in a shaft of light in the morning, reborn. As metaphoric scenes go, it's one of the most powerful in the history of the series. Except that's evidently not what the writers had in mind, since they insisted in interviews that the wreck symbolized the relationship as a bad choice." ~Jennifer Crusie, "Dating Death," excerpted from Seven Seasons of Buffy

So that's my question. What if Crusie's interpretation was right? What if that marked the beginning of something good? And, because I'm a therapist by training I'll ask, what if that was just the kind of release Buffy needed to be able to move forward, at least a little bit at a time?

I liked some of the themes the writers were trying to explore in S6. I still want to look at growing up, being an adult, dealing with the daily stuff that can kill you slowly. I also want to take a new look at what it means to desire control badly enough that you'll take it, what it means to love somebody enough to spend your life with them, and how friendship can get you through the worst times of your life.

And it's about hope, because we wouldn't have a prayer of surviving this world without it.

Chapter 1: Release

"Call you up in the middle of the night/Like a firefly without a light/You were there like a blowtorch burning/I was a key that could use a little turning/So tired that I couldn't even sleep/So many secrets I couldn't keep/I promised myself I wouldn't weep/One more promise I couldn't keep...Can you help me remember how to smile?/Make it somehow all seem worthwhile/How on earth did I get so jaded?/Life's mystery seems so faded... And everything seems cut and dried,/Day and night, earth and sky,/Somehow I just don't believe it..." ~Soul Asylum, "Runaway Train"

Buffy awoke with a start. It was the first time in months that she hadn't dreamt of waking up in her coffin and clawing her way out.

It was also the first time in years that she'd woken with no idea of where she was.

She took a deep breath, the previous night's activities coming back to her slowly. Buffy stood, wrapping her skirt around her and stepping into the light that streamed down from the hole in the ceiling. Apparently, she and Spike had literally brought the house down.

"Buffy?"

She turned slowly to look at him, laid out on the floor, naked and unashamed. It hit her then—what she'd done. She'd had sex with Spike. A lot. In an abandoned building. The Slayer had screwed the Slayer of Slayers into a wall—and the floor. Buffy could see her marks on his torso and face.

"Oh, God, what have I done?"

Spike's brow creased, and his eyes reflected a mixture of concern and anger. "You wanted this last night." It was an accusation as much as a reminder.

She had. Buffy had wanted him so badly she could taste it. She'd wanted to let go for a moment—to release that image that everyone seemed so determined to wrap her up in. Buffy wanted to know what it was like to taste death, and paradoxically, to taste life all at the same time.

Wasn't that what sleeping with Spike meant? That she was embracing death—and yet he was the most alive person she knew. He was the only one who hadn't made any demands of her since she'd been back. At least, he hadn't made any demands until she'd kissed him. After that, all Spike wanted was to talk about it.

Buffy didn't have the words.

Spike stood, approaching her cautiously. Buffy turned away from him, hiding herself from his view, even though it was a futile gesture. Spike had always been able to see her. Carefully avoiding the sunbeams, he put a tentative hand on her shoulder, knowing that it could go either way at the moment. The Slayer could turn on him, deny everything that had passed between them, and declare that it would never happen again, just as she'd done with their kisses—chaste when compared to last night.

Or she could finally let him in, as he'd thought she was doing. It was impossible to tell.

Her shoulders were shaking under his hand, and he reached out to cup the back of her neck, tugging gently to get her to step back from the light a bit. He knew he couldn't do her any good if he went up in flames. "Come on, pet. 's gonna be okay."

"How is it ever going to be okay?" she demanded, turning.

For one brief moment Spike was certain that she was going to stake him. Instead, she took a step forward, leaning her tear-streaked face against his bare chest. Spike could feel her hot tears, her warm skin, her shaking form. As far as he knew, this was the first time Buffy had allowed herself to cry since getting dragged out of heaven.

Spike was fairly sure that the last thing a guy wanted after his first night with the woman of his dreams was her sobbing in his arms. It made him uncomfortable—and oddly touched. Buffy's weeping in front of him seemed far more intimate than anything they'd done the night before.

He only wished there was something he could tell her, some promise that he could give.

Buffy suddenly pulled back from him, the waterworks ending as quickly as they'd begun. "I have to go."

"Buffy—"

"Dawn's been alone all night," she said, searching frantically for her discarded clothing. "She's probably wondering where I am."

Spike sighed. "And I'm stuck here for the day." At her questioning glance, he waved at the patch of sunlight. "No way out." He raised an eyebrow. "You could stay."

"I can't, Spike," Buffy said irritably. "Not when Dawn has no idea where I am."

He grunted, finding his jeans and pulling them on with an angry snap of the fabric. "Right. This is where you give your 'this'll never happen again' speech. Spare me."

"Have you not been listening to me?" she demanded. "I have responsibilities, Spike. I can't just spend the whole day with you." Buffy straightened out her clothing, knowing that she probably looked a complete mess. "Look, I'll come back later with some blood or something. Before sunset."

Spike's eyes were wary. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "I figured you'd probably want to talk."

The way she said it, he'd have thought it was a dirty word. Spike was silent, not knowing quite what to say in response. "Yeah, it'd be nice."

"Then I'll see you later."

Buffy started the climb out of the rubble, hearing his voice call out behind her. "It was good, wasn't it?"

She didn't turn around, whispering, "Best damn night of my life."

~~~~~

Buffy knew she probably ought to be feeling guilty. It certainly wasn't something she could ever have imagined doing. Having sex with Spike was wrong.

And why the hell should she care if it was?

She'd lost herself last night. For hours, she'd had no thoughts of heaven, of not having enough money, of worrying over Dawn. There had only been her and Spike and the moment.

That's when the guilt hit. It wasn't because it was Spike she was sleeping with; it was because she knew he loved her—and Buffy had no idea what she felt for him. He was the guy that kept her steady, the one who listened, but she had no idea if there was any more to it than that.

She had to talk to him. Buffy had to tell him that whatever was between them—it wasn't what he thought. It couldn't be.

Buffy reached the front door just as Tara was coming out, and she stopped the other girl with a hand on her arm. "Tara? Is everything okay?"

"I-it's f-fine," she stuttered. "I-I stayed with Dawn l-last night, and W-w-willow just got back."

Buffy frowned. "Do you—can we talk sometime? Maybe here isn't a good place, but—"

"We could meet at the Espresso Pump," Tara suggested, her own discomfort forgotten when she caught sight of Buffy's eyes. The Slayer looked haunted. "This afternoon maybe? I should be done at the library by four."

"Yeah, that should work," Buffy said, sounding distracted. She was trying to work out when she would be able to manage visiting Spike, and how she was going to placate Dawn.

And whether she should do anything about Willow.

"Buffy, are you okay?"

Buffy met Tara's eyes, her lips curving up in a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. I'm good."

"We'll talk later," Tara said, squeezing the Slayer's hand.

Buffy entered the house, going straight into the kitchen where Willow and Dawn were standing, looking at each other a little awkwardly. Dawn turned to her, her eyes widening in relief. "Buffy! Are you okay? You're limping."

"I'm okay," Buffy assured her, levering herself down onto one of the stools. She ached all over. "I was just out—with Spike. We had a big crowd of demons to take care of."

Dawn let out a breath. "Did he get hurt?"

Buffy shook her head, holding back a bitter laugh. "No, he's fine. About as banged up as I am, but no worse."

"You were with Spike?" Willow asked, incredulous. "I didn't think you liked patrolling with him."

Buffy raised her head and looked Willow straight in the eyes. "Spike watches my back. And, we have a lot in common these days."

"Like what?" Willow asked.

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "Well, for starters he's the only other person I know who still dreams about waking up in a coffin." Buffy could see the hurt flash in Willow's eyes, but for once she didn't care. It was all true. She was tired of pretending that everything was okay for her friends' sake.

She turned to look at Dawn. "I'm going to go take a hot bath, try to get rid of some of these aches. Do you want to pick a movie to watch?"

Dawn's whole face brightened. "Yeah, sure."

"Something low key?" Buffy requested. "I may end up falling asleep, but I'm still feeling wired right now."

"You got it, Buffy," Dawn replied happily. She watched as her sister limped out of the room, and then looked over at Willow. The witch still appeared stunned. "Don't tell me you didn't know Buffy was still having nightmares."

Willow shook her head. "That was months ago, Dawnie. She should be over it by now."

"That was, like, Buffy's greatest fear since she was little," Dawn replied. "Even I know that." She left the room to find a movie that would help her sister get to sleep. Buffy wanted to hang out with her, even after spending all night fighting monsters.

Maybe things would be okay after all.

~~~~~

As the sun sank lower in the sky, Spike became more and more certain that Buffy was going to stand him up. It was getting late in the day, and she'd promised to come by sundown. It didn't look like that was going to happen.

He still wasn't quite sure what to think about the Slayer's reaction upon waking. Sure, she'd run from him, but there was good reason, and Spike didn't think it had sounded like an excuse. Buffy had said she needed to get to Dawn, and he could understand why the Bit would be worried.

Spike couldn't help but think that there was going to be more fallout from their tryst, though. Buffy had promised to talk to him, and he didn't think he was going to like what he would hear. The whole night had been a bloody revelation. If she cut him off after this, if she refused to speak to him or have anything to do with him, Spike knew it could end up driving him just a bit crazy. She needed him. He was sure of it.

He'd thought she was in his blood before. It was nothing compared to how he felt now.

"Spike?"

Buffy climbed down carefully, picking her way through the rubble to hand him a thermos. Spike could feel the heat through the metal. She'd warmed up his blood for him. He looked down at the metal container, trying to hide a wince. "So, I'm guessin' that whatever you've got to say to me is either really good or really bad."

"We can't do this."

"Right. Really bad then." Spike turned away from her, wondering whether he could crush the thermos if he squeezed hard enough.

He heard Buffy take a deep breath. "I'm not going to tell you that what we're doing is wrong. I don't know if it is or not anymore, and I don't care either way."

Spike faced her once again. "Then what are you sayin'?"

"I don't love you." Spike's jaw tensed, the muscle ticking. He didn't blame her for not loving him. It just hurt like a bitch to hear. "I like being around you. When I'm with you, it's easier to forget that I hate being here."

He tilted his head. So far, it wasn't so bad. Buffy was giving him something to work with. "I don't understand."

"That's just it, Spike. I know—how you feel about me. I can deny it. I can tell you that you're imagining things, but there are some things you just can't fake." Buffy forced herself to meet his eyes. "From what Dawn's said—I know what you did for her while I was gone."

Spike looked uncomfortable. "Look, Slayer, I—"

"Let me finish," Buffy said. "I know how you feel, which is why I can't do this. I don't know what I feel for you, but it isn't love, and if we keep doing this I'd be using you to make myself feel better. I'd be using you to forget."

"Don't I get a say in all this?" he demanded. "You think I don't know that you don't love me? You think I can't see it? I know what I'm getting myself into, Buffy."

Buffy shook her head emphatically. "No, you don't. Spike, I—"

"Give it time," he said. "You don't know. In another few months, you might have changed your mind, an' I'm not goin' anywhere."

"I can't love anyone!" Buffy burst out. "I have to make myself talk to Dawn, and to my friends. I don't have the energy to give you anything. I don't even know that I'll be able to love anyone again. Everything is wrong here. It all hurts, and it's too bright and too—it's too everything, and not enough at the same time, and I'm not enough! You're going to figure out that I'm not going to love you, and then you'll get pissed off and resentful...and you'll go away."

The words poured forth as though a dam had burst. Spike had managed to crack her mask somehow, and now there wasn't any hiding. Buffy couldn't seem to stop herself.

Spike started laughing. "Please tell me that you're not comparing me to Captain Cardboard, because I might just have to kill you for that."

"You'll leave because I can't give you what you need," Buffy said, unfazed by his laughter. She was too intent on her own pain to notice that she'd just given Spike what he would probably consider the ultimate insult. "I was enough in heaven, Spike. I was complete, I was okay. I felt loved, and now that I'm here, I know that I have to..."

Tears were threatening again, and Buffy felt Spike's hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently until she looked at him. "You're enough." She shook her head silently. "Stayed here when you were dead an' I didn't think you had a chance of comin' back, didn't I? What makes you think I'd run off when you're alive?"

Buffy looked away. "Spike—"

"Look, you want to go back to what we were doin' before, okay," Spike said, his face twisting in disgust. He wasn't sure who he was angrier at: Buffy or himself. "I'll take what I can get."

Buffy gave him a half laugh. "Yeah, right."

"No, that is right, Summers," Spike nearly snarled. "Told you. I'm sticking around for you, not to get in your pants. Won't deny that I'll probably have a hard-on every time you're anywhere close, but what else is new?"

"That's not what I want," Buffy said softly. "I just needed you to know how I feel. I needed—I have to be honest with someone."

Spike snorted. "Might as well be with the guy who doesn't exist."

"You exist." Buffy pulled away from him. "I have to go."

Spike released her. "Yeah, sure, whatever." He was more disappointed that she wasn't staying than he would have liked to admit. "Go do whatever you have to do."

"I'm meeting Tara," Buffy said, feeling it necessary to give him an explanation, although she knew she didn't owe him one. "I needed to talk to someone, and Willow..."

"Willow's what?" Spike asked suspiciously. He'd always liked the witch, but raising the dead made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. She was getting more powerful than he liked to think about.

Buffy swallowed her words. She wanted to talk to someone about Willow, but she didn't think that was going to be Spike. Then again, if not Spike, who else? She hated to burden Tara with her ex-girlfriend's problems, and Xander and Anya were planning their wedding. Dawn was too young, of course. Who else was she going to tell?

"We could talk later," she suggested. "On patrol."

"Sure, if that's what you want," Spike said, cursing himself for a fool. He wanted to get back under her skirt—well, pants right now. He wanted to remind her of all she'd be missing if she didn't come back to him.

"I have to go," she repeated.

As she was leaving, Spike called out after her, "What did you tell them? Dawn and your friends, I mean." Buffy turned, clearly unsure about what he was referring to. "About last night."

"I told them I was fighting demons with you," Buffy replied, leaving before he could ask more questions.

Maybe it wasn't the entire truth, but Spike thought he could live with that.

~~~~~

Tara wasn't sure what to expect from Buffy. Since she'd left Willow, Tara hadn't seen much of anyone in the group. She wished she could say that she was surprised, but she wasn't. Tara had always suspected that her membership in the Scoobies was contingent upon her relationship with Willow.

Well, Dawn accepted her, of course, but the girl was hungry for a little mothering. Over the summer, she'd treated Tara as a surrogate aunt, just as she'd treated Spike like a—something. Tara just knew that they were close, closer than you'd think was normal for a vampire and a teenage girl. With Buffy gone, they'd made up some sort of odd little family.

Now that Buffy was back, everything had changed.

It wasn't entirely the Slayer's fault. Tara had watched the fault lines emerge as soon as Buffy had returned. She was the planet around which their world had turned, and it had been a wrench to change things. It had completely changed the dynamics of their relationships with one another.

The magic had changed Willow.

"Tara?" Buffy stood next to her table. "Sorry I'm late. I had to—" She paused, then sighed. "I had to go see Spike."

"Oh, that's okay," Tara assured her. "Did you—did you get some sleep?"

"Some," Buffy replied. "Dawn put a movie in and we crashed on my bed. Or I crashed. Dawn just watched the movie."

Tara smiled. "It's good that you guys were able to spend some time together. I know Dawn's been kind of lonely recently."

A pang of guilt hit Buffy. She knew she wasn't being a very good sister. "Yeah."

"What did you want to talk about?" Tara prodded gently.

Buffy looked down at her hands. She had wanted to go to Tara because she seemed the one least likely to initiate an intervention. Buffy didn't want an intervention. She wanted someone to tell her what the hell was going on.

Besides, as weird as Willow was about magic these days, it didn't seem like a good idea to approach her.

"Something happened last night," Buffy began. "It—Spike can hurt me."

Tara's eyes widened. "He hurt you?"

Buffy shook her head quickly. "No, not exactly. We were arguing, and I hit him, and Spike hit me back. I guess the chip just doesn't work on me." She winced. "He said I came back wrong."

"Oh." Tara bit her lip. "I can look into it for you," she offered. "Can I ask why you didn't go to Willow with this first?"

Buffy was silent for long enough that Tara didn't think she was going to get an answer. When the Slayer did speak finally, she sounded both angry and bewildered. "Willow hasn't said anything about me being in heaven. She hasn't apologized, or even acted like she was sorry at all. She acts like I'm supposed to be over it by now, and I'm not."

Tara could have guessed as much. "Buffy, I'm really sorry for my part in it. If I had known—"

"I know," Buffy replied, cutting off the other woman's apology. "That's just it. I'm not so sure Willow would be able to say the same. And there's more."

Tara braced herself mentally. "Okay."

"I slept with Spike."

The blonde witch just raised her eyebrows. "And?"

It was probably the best reaction Buffy could have gotten from anyone. No anger, no shock, nothing more than concerned interest. "That's pretty much it right there," Buffy admitted. "Last night, it wasn't demons. It was—us. We—things got a little rough."

"Did you enjoy it?" Tara asked bluntly.

Buffy let out a little laugh. "Yeah, I really did. It's never been like that before. Spike—if anyone else knew, they'd hate me. They would tell me I'm wrong, I'm messed up; there would be an intervention."

"Buffy, there's nothing wrong with sleeping with Spike as long as you both want it," Tara said. "I know how the others feel, but Spike's done a lot of good. He was here all summer, and he took care of Dawn. He cares for you. I believe that."

"I do too." Buffy laughed. "I can't believe I just said that, but I knew it before—before I died, you know? I asked him to be ready to die for Dawn, and he said he would. No hesitation. He was the only one I could ask." She looked right into Tara's eyes. "Spike's the only one I trust right now, and I don't know what that makes me. Does that make me evil?"

"No!" Tara said vehemently, careful to keep her voice down. "Buffy, you're not evil. I don't think Spike's all that evil these days. He's done a lot of good."

"I don't love him," Buffy objected. "I'm—I slept with him, and I don't love him. Doesn't that make it wrong?"

"I guess that would depend on whether or not Spike's okay with the situation," Tara replied. "Sometimes, I think it's okay to need another person even if you can't give them anything right then. It doesn't mean that won't change."

"And if it never changes?" she asked.

Tara gave her a sympathetic smile. "Maybe you should let Spike worry about that."

~~~~~

Buffy didn't see Spike anywhere near the abandoned house, and calling inside hadn't brought an answer. The last thing she wanted to do was to try and crawl down into the basement in the dark. She'd promised that they would meet for patrol, though. They needed to talk.

She'd talked more today than she had in months.

It had felt good, though—to tell Tara what had been going on, to come clean to someone other than Spike. Buffy felt a little guilty for that, too, since she hadn't been there for Tara after her break-up with Willow. And, really, their problems had been more of Willow's creation than Tara's.

Something inside her had snapped last night. No, not snapped—broken free. Buffy still wasn't sure what it all meant, and she wasn't any happier, but the mask was gone and the gloves had come off. What did it matter anyway? Technically, she shouldn't even be alive. Maybe she should look at this as a chance to live her life exactly the way she wanted to this time around.

"Hey, luv."

Buffy turned to see the flare of a lighter that briefly illuminated Spike's face as he lit a cigarette. "Hey. Where'd you go?"

He held up a fresh pack of cigarettes before shoving them in the pocket of his duster. "Ran out awhile ago."

"I would have brought you some if I'd known."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "You know, Buffy, don't take this the wrong way, but... Why the hell are you bein' so considerate?"

"Because I want to," she replied, feeling an enormous sense of freedom. Buffy was going to be nice to Spike. She was going to sleep with Spike because he seemed to be okay with that scenario. And if her friends found out, Buffy would have no problem blaming the whole thing on them for bringing her back in the first place. If they'd left her in heaven, she wouldn't have had a chance to do either, would she?

"You hit your head last night?" Spike asked. He reached out to tip her head, apparently looking for any sign of damage. "Or maybe you're sick?"

"Not sick," Buffy replied. "And I don't have a concussion, if that's what you're worried about. It's just that I've decided I don't care anymore."

"Care about what?"

"Any of this." Buffy waived a hand. "Why should I? I'm supposed to be dead."

Spike frowned in concern, not sure that he liked where this was going. "You're not goin' apathetic on me, are you, pet?"

"No, Spike," Buffy replied. "Apathetic is what I've been for the last few months. This is something else altogether." She smiled, and it was a bittersweet expression—for once more sweet than bitter. "I'll let you know what it is when I figure it out myself."

Summary: What if that house-demolishing in Smashed was a metaphor with a different meaning than the writers gave it? What if that night marked a release of a different sort? Goes seriously AU immediately after Smashed, and makes reference to my short story, "The Promise I'm Keeping," written for summer_of_spike.

"Go ahead when you waste your days with thinking/When you fall everyone stands/ Another day and you've had your fill of sinking/With the life held in your/Hands are shaking cold/These hands are meant to hold/Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong/Move along, move along like I know you do/And even when your hope is gone/Move along, move along just to make it through..." ~The All-American Rejects, "Move Along"

Even though Buffy hadn't remained awake for very long, and had left in a rush right around three in the afternoon when she'd woken up, Dawn was still grateful that she'd made the attempt to hang out. Buffy had briefly explained that she was supposed to meet Spike, and then Tara, and then she was planning on heading out on patrol.

Dawn just wished that she could have convinced her sister to let her tag along on any of those engagements. She planned on waiting until Buffy was in a good mood to ask her about the patrol thing. Dawn was totally old enough to help out.

If Dawn had thought she had a chance of catching Spike at his crypt, she probably would have visited. She knew that Buffy had forbidden any more visits to Spike's place, but Dawn was tired of not having him around.

Spike had been there the night that she'd gotten caught out with Janice. He had helped rescue her—even though she hadn't needed much rescuing. She'd been the one to stake Justin anyway. Dawn couldn't help but imagine exactly what Spike would have said if everyone wasn't so intent on making sure he wasn't needed, though. He would have yelled at her a lot and threatened her with some really gruesome stuff, and then Dawn would have known that he cared whether or not she lived or died.

Instead, what she had gotten was a serious lecture from Giles on responsibility and growing up, and disapproving looks from some of the others. It made her wonder what would have happened if Justin had managed to turn her like he'd wanted.

Okay, so Dawn didn't really want to be a vampire, because she knew how icky that would be, but Justin had at least wanted her around.

What she had now was a sister who seemed to be in a daze most of the time, Buffy's friends who ignored her existence (except for Tara), and a vampire baby-sitter who was MIA. Even when she got caught with that amulet, no one had thought twice about why she was wearing it.

It just sucked that Buffy had forbidden her from going to Spike's place, and had apparently told him he wasn't welcome at their house. It wasn't fair. Wasn't half the house hers? Dawn didn't understand why she couldn't have Spike over, at least when Buffy was out patrolling.

Unless Buffy was patrolling with Spike, which could be why he wasn't around. The Slayer comes back and everybody forgets about Dawn.

She could make Spike pay attention to her. Buffy tried to tell her what to do, but it wasn't like she was her mother. Dawn could go to Spike's crypt if she wanted. If she went during the day he wouldn't be able to make her leave, and Buffy would never know.

Dawn shrugged. "Nothing much. I was just trying to figure out what I was going to have for dinner. We don't have much."

"Why don't we go out?" Willow suggested. "We could get something to eat and go see a movie."

"Really," Willow replied. "I'll just go finish getting ready, and you decide what you want to see."

Dawn watched as Willow left the kitchen. Finally, there was someone who seemed to care.

It was their second cemetery of the evening, and the activity had been minimal. Buffy's statement had come out of the blue, but Spike had been watching the wheels in her head turn. He'd been expecting something like this. Some excuse for why they couldn't do whatever it was they were doing.

"What about Dawn?" Buffy asked. "I'm not comfortable leaving her by herself all the time."

"Or we could keep our shaggin' to my crypt, and then head back to your place. Or start there and finish it out at my place." Spike refused to meet her eyes. "I don't mind stayin' with Dawn, you know."

"Close." Spike lit a cigarette to cover the obvious pain the memories brought. "I got fixated on you soon as you came down those stairs, luv, but before that the Bit's what kept me goin'."

"I have been keeping you pretty busy," Buffy acknowledged. "I don't know what to do with her, Spike." She sighed. "I don't even know how to talk to her."

"You aren't hurt when I tell you I wish I wasn't here," Buffy pointed out. "Dawn thinks that I should be so happy to be with her, I shouldn't miss heaven."

Spike gave her a sharp look. "You certain about that, Buffy? Because I'd be willing to bet that she might be more understanding than you think."

"Why would she be?" Buffy asked, her tone mild. "Mom left her, I left her, Dad certainly didn't deign to show up. Me telling her that I wish I was still dead isn't going to make her happy."

"You think she doesn't already know?" Spike countered. "Anyone with eyes could tell that you're not happy bein' here."

"Well, I guess most of my friends are blind then," Buffy muttered. "Not to mention Giles."

"Watcher was doin' what he thought was right," Spike said. "And, no, that doesn't make it less of a stupid move, but he had good intentions, for what it's worth."

"Not much." Buffy was silent for a moment. "I think I'm going to have to get a job."

"I don't know," she admitted. "But Mom's medical bills ate up most of her insurance money, and the money Giles gave us is only going to last so long."

Spike was silent. These were matters he knew little about. At least, he hadn't given it much thought. He had known that things weren't great for the Slayer financially speaking, but he'd been too focused on getting her to acknowledge him as something other than a mere convenience to give much thought to her money troubles.

He held in a sigh. In the past, keeping his girl happy had been simple. Buffy was going to be a lot more complicated. "What if I can do something about that?"

"I can't take stolen money," Buffy said simply. "If the social workers found out about it, I'd lose Dawn."

"Then we could talk." She glanced over at him. They were supposed to be patrolling, but they'd done little more than wander around his cemetery, pretending to look for demons. "What are you thinking about?"

Spike shook his head. "Give me some time to think about it. Want to make sure I'm not blowin' smoke before I get your hopes up."

Buffy gave a little laugh. There wasn't much humor in the sound. "I don't think I have any hope to get up." She gasped as she found herself slammed up against the wall of a mausoleum, Spike's blue eyes boring into hers.

"What do you want, Slayer? What do you really want? To go around all the time, wishin' you were back in heaven? Or do you want to bloody well live?"

His face didn't shift, even though Buffy could see the fury in his eyes. Spike rarely showed his demonic side, she realized. Was he becoming more human? Or was it just that he had more control?

Angel had lost it the first time they kissed. Even after everything that had passed between them last night, though, Spike hadn't lost it once. He could have bitten her, and he hadn't.

Buffy didn't reply to his question. She didn't know the answer. She did want to go back to heaven. And she really wanted to live. Instead, she smashed her mouth to his, her hands already fumbling at the fly of his jeans.

Spike's hands were equally impatient, tugging roughly at her shirt, trying to get his hands on her warm skin. If this was what it took to keep Buffy here, he would give it to her. He'd give her everything.

If anyone had told Buffy a few years before that she'd be engaging in quick and dirty sex in the middle of a cemetery with Spike, she'd have had them checked into the nearest mental institution. Her fingers clutched his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist. Buffy could feel the rough concrete of the cold wall behind her, and she gasped as she felt the rush of the endorphins when she reached her climax.

Spike followed her a moment later, and they remained there, frozen in place, neither of them willing to let go. "I think we should try to find a bed next time," Buffy finally said evenly.

He cut her off with a kiss that started out bruising and then gentled, turning soft and lingering. "I will always finish it," he said, the double meaning obvious.

"Somebody's going to catch us one of these days," Buffy said mildly as he withdrew. She tried to straighten out her clothing, wanting nothing more than to get home and shower.

There was an edge to his voice, and Buffy faced him. "You have a problem, Spike?"

Suddenly, the air between them hummed with tension. The truth was that neither of them knew what was going on anymore. They didn't know how they felt, how they wanted to feel. Where any of this was leading.

"I don't know what you mean these days, Buffy." Spike buckled his belt with savage jerks.

Buffy scowled at him. "Fine. You want to be all bad-moody, that's your issue." She stalked off towards her house, and Spike watched her go, debating as to whether or not to follow.

He finally sighed, rolled his eyes, and broke into a jog to catch up. Not that he was ready to completely let things go, but Buffy had kept her promise to meet him, and she'd been almost nice to him. It was a damn sight better than the way she'd been acting recently.

They walked in silence. Buffy had thought that the tension between them would have dissipated after they'd had sex. By all rights, if sex was all there was, she should have been able to get Spike out of her system. Instead, she found herself craving him even more.

Buffy didn't even say anything once they reached her house. She simply held the door open for him in a silent invitation, which he took, looking tentative. Spike followed her back to the kitchen, where she saw the note Dawn had left on the fridge.

"What? Who?" Buffy stood still, trusting Spike's superior hearing. He turned and started up the stairs, Buffy close at his heels. Spike immediately entered Willow's room, blocking the intruder's escape until Buffy could grab the girl.

"Amy?" Buffy asked. She hadn't seen the former rat until now, since the girl had left before she arrived home the previous morning. "What are you doing here? Did Willow let you in?"

"Buffy," Amy said, giving her a quick, nervous smile. "Really great to see you again. You know, I think I'm just going to—"

Buffy grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her around and slamming her up against the wall. "What are you doing here?" She saw the bag that Amy was holding. "What do you have?"

Buffy tossed the bag to Spike, who took a whiff and nodded. "She's tellin' the truth."

The Slayer started searching the girl's pockets. "Okay, so you came over to steal kitchen spices?"

"It's not like that," Amy protested. "Willow would understand. She knows I need it."

"Need what?" Buffy insisted, shaking her and then pushing her back up against the wall.

"Need it," Amy repeated, as though that would make more sense. "Willow knows. She's worse than I am." With a resentful look, she muttered. "I was the one to introduce her to Rack, and now she's his new favorite."

"She's probably there right now," Amy replied, focusing on Spike for the first time.

Buffy slammed her up against the wall again, just because she wanted to. "Spike, do you know what the hell she's talking about?"

Buffy shoved Amy through the bedroom door, sending her careening into the hallway wall. "Get out of my house, Amy. Don't come back." She watched as Amy scampered away and then turned to Spike. "Tell me."

"He's bad news, Buffy. Bad reputation, even among the demon crowd. I'm not sure he's even human anymore."

"Let's go, then." Buffy stalked out of the room. "I can't believe Willow would take Dawn there."

"Let's hope Rack doesn't get a good look at the Bit," Spike said quietly. "If he sees what she used to be..."

"Dunno what to think," Spike replied. "Either way, that's not a place Niblet ought to be."

"Think I can find it," Spike replied, his tone holding just a shade of doubt. "It moves around a lot, an' it's cloaked. You have to be a Big Bad or a witch."

Buffy gave him a tight little smile. "I guess we'll just have to hope that you're bad enough, won't we?"

They moved through the darkness like the predators they were, perfectly in sync. Even if they didn't seem to be able to hold a conversation without fighting, this was good.

It made Buffy wonder what was wrong with her, that she would be more comfortable in the dark than in the daylight—with a vampire, than with other people. She resolutely pushed that thought out of her mind. Tara was looking into the spell her friends had done to bring her back. Hopefully she would be able to tell Buffy if there was something wrong with her.

The question came out of nowhere, and Buffy's head snapped over to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you even like me?" Spike asked again. "Half the time you seem pissed off that I'm even sharin' your airspace, and the rest of the time you're seekin' me out like—"

"Like you're a friend?" Buffy asked in an arch tone. Of course, that was mostly because she was thinking about how she wasn't seeking out her "real" friends these days.

"What? Like you're more a friend to me right now than the people I went to high school with?"

"I told you I don't know how I feel about all this right now, Spike," Buffy asserted. "Just—does it really bother you that much?"

"Yeah, well, that was before." Spike didn't specify what it was supposed to be before.

Buffy decided that it might be time to change the subject. "So are we getting any closer?"

"Yeah, and you didn't answer my question," Spike replied, taking a sharp left turn down a street lined with dilapidated old buildings. If Buffy hadn't been the Slayer, and Spike hadn't been a vampire, it would definitely have been a part of town they wouldn't have entered lightly.

"Yes, I do like you." Buffy rolled her eyes. "I told you I enjoy spending time with you, didn't I?"

Silence fell again. Buffy didn't know how to talk to him or what to say. It was Spike, her mortal enemy and royal pain in the ass that she was trying to talk to. She had trouble maintaining open lines of communication with guys she actually had a bona fide relationship with. Spike was moody, touchy, and obviously not going anywhere. What the hell did a girl do with that?

Spike's head was spinning. One minute Buffy was open and seemingly ready to embark on some sort of a relationship with him, and the next minute she had closed herself off again and was acting like a bitch.

He wanted to be there for her. Hell, Spike was just glad she was alive, but he had no idea what to do about it. Caught between wanting to worship at her feet and wanting to force her to treat him like something more than a convenient shoulder with benefits, he had no idea how to act or what to do. Spike wanted Buffy to be happy to be alive again, and he didn't know how to get the job done. He half-wondered if maybe he was going about it the wrong way, but he didn't know how else to get through to her, other than to stick close. If he was there, he could catch her at a weak moment and get under her defenses.

And if he could just get under her defenses, Spike was certain that she'd feel something for him, if she didn't already. Buffy wouldn't have slept with him unless there was something more there. She wasn't that kind of girl.

"Here," Spike said abruptly, feeling the air turn solid in front of him. The alley looked empty and desolate, but he could feel the energy swirling around him.

He disappeared inside. Buffy stared at the empty space for a moment, and then took a deep breath before following him. The waiting room they found themselves in was shabby, to say the least, and Buffy could smell several substances that she thought were better left unknown. Spike was standing next to Dawn, who was clutching his arm. The relief on her face was obvious.

"I don't know what's going on," she said. "Willow brought me here. We were supposed to go to a movie together. She went in there and hasn't come out." Dawn gestured to the door on the other side of the room. "Are you guys going in after her?"

Buffy didn't want to deal with this. She didn't want to deal with Willow, who seemed to be in some kind of deep trouble. The Slayer didn't know what to do with a friend who was losing it.

"Buffy?" Spike's low voice cut through her thoughts. "Whatever we do about Red, we should get the Bit home."

Her suggestion got cut off by Willow's stumbling out of the back room, Rack on her heels. "Buffy!" Willow said. Her eyes were completely black. Buffy didn't like what she was seeing one bit. "Did you want to come to the movie, too?"

"Well, well, well," Rack said. "Why don't you introduce me to your friends, Strawberry?"

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "I'm the Slayer. I don't think we need more introductions. Spike, get Dawn home. I'll take care of Willow."

Spike stepped in between them, growling audibly. "You'll stay away from her if you know what's good for you."

Maybe Spike wasn't quite the big, bad vampire he had been, but he could be quite intimidating when it came to taking care of Dawn or Buffy. It was Rack who turned away first, and his eyes lighted on Willow. "You won't be welcome here again, Strawberry," he said, his voice cold. "Not unless you can keep your friends away."

"What?" Willow asked, his words startling her out of her stupor. "No!" By the time she'd finished her objection, all four of them were outside. "Why did you do that?" Willow asked angrily. "I needed that, Buffy!" She turned to go back inside, but met nothing but air.

"Take Dawn home, Spike," Buffy said evenly. "I need to have a talk with Willow."

"I'm sure." Buffy gave him a smile. "And if you wouldn't mind sticking around for a while, that would be nice."

"I'll stay 'til you get home." Spike put a hand on Dawn's shoulder to steer her back towards Revello Drive. "Let's get out of here, Bit."

Dawn threw a concerned look back at Buffy, and then focused on Willow, her eyes reflecting both anger and confusion. She opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it with a snap. "Let's go."

"When the rain comes it seems that everyone has gone away/When the night falls you wonder if you shouldn't find someplace/To run and hide/Escape the pain/But hiding's such a lonely thing to do...When the rain comes you blame it on the things that you have done/ When the storm fades you know that rain must fall on everyone/Rest awhile/It'll be alright/ No one loves you like I do/I can't stop the rain from falling down on you again/I can't stop the rain/But I will hold you 'til it goes away" ~Third Day, "When the Rain Comes"

Dawn shrugged. "I guess. What was that about, Spike? Why would Willow go there?"

Spike sighed. There were some lessons he'd never wanted Dawn to be forced to learn. "Red's havin' some trouble, luv."

"Is it like being on drugs?" Dawn asked. Willow would have been the one person that she was absolutely sure would never do anything like that.

"You spent all summer with us, Spike," Dawn pointed out. "You know what's going on."

"The witch is very interested in controlling things," Spike finally said, offering it as an observation. "She's got a need to control everythin' around her, an' the other side of things is that everyone likes to give up a bit of control now an' then."

"So she went to Rack so she didn't have control even though that's what she wants?" Dawn frowned. "Does that mean magic is bad? Because Tara—"

"Tara's a good sort," Spike interrupted. "She knows what she's doin' an' she doesn't cross boundaries better left alone."

"Oh." Dawn kicked at a rock in their path. "Spike? That guy, Rack? Is he going to come after me?"

"Not if he knows what's good for him," the vampire growled. "I'll make him wish he'd never been born if he lays one finger on you."

Spike opened his mouth to reply, and then stopped, obviously thinking better of what he was about to say. "Your sister doesn't think it's so good if you see a lot of me, Bit. I'm not a good influence on you."

They had seen each other nearly every day while Buffy had been gone. Dawn had known that no matter what everyone else was doing—no matter who was too busy for her—Spike would be there. She missed being able to count on his presence.

"Couldn't I sneak out or something?" she pleaded. "Like when we watched the meteor shower? I could even ask Buffy. Or we could talk to Tara. I bet she'd let us hang out over at her place. Please, Spike."

Spike hesitated. Spending more time with Dawn meant spending less time with Buffy. Besides, if the Slayer got pissed off about him "corrupting" her little sister, it could bring their relationship to a close, such as it was.

But Dawn was looking at him with those huge eyes of hers, the same way she'd looked at him over the summer when she wanted something from him he didn't want to give. Dawn had stuck by him, and Spike wanted to keep his promise.

He'd been remiss in his duties. Buffy had told him to stay away, and he'd followed her orders. Spike had been so focused on the Slayer that he'd lost sight of the girl who really did love him.

"I think sneakin' out would pretty much prove how bad an influence I am," Spike said regretfully. "But we'll work somethin' out, yeah? I'll talk to your sister, an' if that doesn't work, we'll go to Glinda. She might be willin' to give us a hand."

"Really?" Dawn asked, knowing that she probably sounded pathetic. As if to prove how not-pathetic she was, she added, "Not that I need somebody around all the time, because I don't. I mean, I'm old enough to take care of myself now."

Spike, who knew all too well how much Dawn liked having someone around, and how lonely things could get when no one seemed to want your presence, just smiled. "Still, it never hurts to have some company, does it?"

Buffy stared at Willow, not recognizing the woman who stood in front of her. What had happened to change them both so drastically? Okay, so maybe she'd died and then been resurrected, but what was Willow's excuse?

"You took Dawn into that place," Buffy stated. "You could have gotten her killed."

Willow scoffed. "Don't be so melodramatic, Buffy. Dawn was fine. It didn't hurt her to wait."

"She shouldn't have had to wait for you to get your fix!" Buffy shot back. "You had no right to take her there. It was dangerous." She shook her head. "I'm not going to get into this with you, Will, not while you're still high—or whatever it is you are."

"I'm feeling good," Willow replied. "And I know what I'm doing. You don't have any right to tell me what I should be doing, Buffy. You can't even keep track of Dawn."

"It means that you're doing a real good parenting job when you're never around, and Dawn can go off and nearly get herself turned," Willow replied. "I don't see how you have any room to talk when you're the one who can't seem to keep it together, Buf."

"And whose fault is that?" Buffy shot back, hurt and angry, and ready to fight. If Willow wanted the gloves to come off, the Slayer was willing to give her a fight. "I don't think I have to remind you that you're the one who brought me back, Willow."

"You didn't think!" Buffy said, the anger she'd been suppressing coming out in a flood. "I died to save the world, and you didn't even hold a séance to make sure I was in need of saving. No, you decided you wanted me back, and you went ahead and made it happen. The big, powerful Willow, saving her friend from a fate worse than death. Well, I liked being dead, and most days I wish I was back there."

Buffy snarled, "No, you weren't. You just wanted to make things easier on yourself. It's not so easy being the Slayer, is it?"

The fight probably would have gotten worse if they hadn't heard the roar of a monster right about then. The beast Willow had inadvertently called up came galloping towards them, looking ready to rip them both to shreds.

Willow shook her head, her anger receding in the face of her fear. "I don't know! I saw it in my vision, and—"

Xander watched as Anya flipped through the pages of her bridal magazine. "I just don't understand why Buffy hasn't shown up today. I thought we were supposed to be researching the frozen security guard."

"Maybe she had other things to do, Xander," Anya replied, a little tired of his constant out-loud thinking about where Buffy might be.

Xander frowned. "What other things? She's the Slayer. It's the Slayer's job to take care of things like this."

"If you're so concerned, why don't you call?" she suggested, turning a page. She still hadn't managed to find suitable bridesmaids dresses, or pick out a color. Anya was fairly sure that the dresses needed to be ugly, since that would prevent anyone from outshining her on the big day.

"Then maybe you should go over there," Anya said. If Xander went to check on Buffy not only would he put his mind to rest, but he would also get out of her hair so she could start making some decisions. Then maybe by the time he got home, he'd actually be able to focus on giving her orgasms.

"Then I'll be here, and I'll help," Anya said patiently. Xander was beginning to get on her last nerve. She really did love him, but sometimes he irritated her to no end.

"Well, okay," Xander said, leaving the shop slowly. Buffy had said that she was going to come by earlier, he was sure of it. Xander was worried about the Slayer. It wasn't something he could put his finger on, exactly. Buffy simply hadn't been the same since she'd been resurrected.

Xander felt more than a twinge of guilt at that thought. Who could blame her for being a little off? If he'd been in heaven and then got dragged back to the Hellmouth, he would probably feel the same way.

He just wasn't sure what to do for her. Xander wanted to offer her his support, but with Anya and her wedding preparations, plus the demands of his job, he didn't have nearly as much time for her as he had back in high school.

Besides, what was he supposed to say to her? "Sorry we pulled you out of heaven, Buf. We had no idea."

That was really where the guilt came in—when he started to think about how they might have found out, what they might have done to prevent it from happening.

And there was the kicker. Xander didn't want to prevent it. He wanted Buffy around, and yet every time he saw her, he couldn't help but feel guilty. Which just led to more avoidance, which led to yet more guilt.

The lights were on in the house when Xander arrived, although he was more than a little surprised when Spike opened the door. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Where's Buffy?"

"Buffy was supposed to come to the Magic Box this afternoon," Xander replied, hostility lacing his tone. "And what do you mean she's taking care of Willow? What happened?"

"Willow almost got me killed," Dawn said, coming out of the living room. "I think Buffy was going to yell at her."

"Wait," Xander said, stopping the incipient bickering. "What are you talking about?"

"Willow took me to see an evil sorcerer—" Dawn began, but Spike cut her off with a look.

"Red's gotten herself into some trouble." Spike sighed. "Look, you want to wait for the Slayer, you can."

"You're a dead weight, Spike." Xander's anger and guilt, as well as his vague fear of the changes he saw in his friend were focused on Spike. The vampire made such a handy target, after all.

She had a scrape down one cheek, and she looked tired. "Willow conjured up a monster that nearly killed both of us," she replied. "It wasn't pretty."

"Right behind me." Buffy turned, and sure enough Willow came in the doorway behind her. She didn't speak, instead going right towards the stairs and heading up.

"Willow?" Xander called, worried when she didn't turn around. He looked at the Slayer. "Buffy, what happened?"

"I told you what happened, Xander," Buffy replied quietly. "Willow's going to be moving out."

"What? You're kicking Willow out?" Xander asked, incredulous. The Buffy he knew would never have kicked any of her friends out. He just didn't understand what was happening.

Buffy took a deep breath. The epiphany from the other night—whatever it had really meant—was standing her in good stead. It had been easier than she'd thought it would be to insist that Willow find her own place. She wasn't the one who had asked the girl to move in anyway. Yes, Buffy understood that Willow had done it to help out, but she wasn't paying rent, and her presence wasn't necessary any more.

Buffy had died to protect Dawn. She wasn't going to allow anything or anyone to cheapen that sacrifice. If she had to be in this world, she'd make certain that Dawn was around too.

"Willow made her choice when she put Dawn in danger." Buffy's voice was even, perfectly modulated. She'd moved past angry to numb at this point. "She can't stay here anymore."

"I don't know," she replied. "I imagine you can ask her tomorrow. I think I'm going to go to bed, though. It's late."

Xander stood stock still, unsure of what he ought to do next. He didn't get it. Willow had put Dawn in danger? She'd conjured up a monster that almost killed Buffy? Buffy was kicking her out?

"You're going to have to come by tomorrow, Xander," Buffy repeated, ushering him out the door, past Spike who was trying—rather unsuccessfully—to hide a smirk.

Buffy just shook her head. "He and I need to talk." She gently pushed Xander out the door and shut it before he could protest again, sagging against it wearily.

That one word had her moving. Buffy envied him his easy command. Dawn knew when she couldn't get away with pushing him further, but her sister seemed determined to question Buffy at every turn.

"You're hurt," Spike murmured, tilting her head so he could get a better look at the abrasion on her cheek.

His thumb stroked the skin just below, sending a tingle to her belly. "You alright?"

She knew what he was asking, and Buffy didn't know how to answer him. She wasn't alright. Buffy wasn't sure she'd ever be okay again. "Not really, but I guess there's nothing we can do about that, is there?"

She'd said "we." Spike wondered if that was as significant as it felt to him. "Oh, I don't know about that." He ran a hand down her hair. "Did you really want to talk?"

"No," she admitted. "But I thought you probably wanted to." Buffy turned to go into the kitchen, knowing that Spike would be close behind. "You were being crass, Spike."

Spike grimaced. "Yeah, well, what do you expect from me, Slayer? I'm a vampire."

"Not about the vampire part," Buffy said impatiently, waving a hand to dismiss that idea. "I meant the other part. It's not like you're that way all the time."

"So you want me to change for you, is that it?" Spike asked, anger creeping into his tone. "Bloody hell, Buffy! I'm trying!"

"I know you are!" She shot back, frustrated that she couldn't get her point across. "And, no, I don't want you to change. I just wish..." Buffy trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"You wish what?" Spike asked, modulating his tone with difficulty. It helped to remember that she'd asked him to see Dawn safely home, and that she had asked him to stay even though Xander had been forced to leave.

She sighed. "Look, Spike, I would have said the same thing to any guy I was with who made a comment like that. It wasn't really about you. If you say crass things, I'll probably tell you not to be such a jerk."

Spike rolled his eyes, although he had to concede her point. "Does that mean I get to tell you when you're bein' a bitch?"

Buffy opened her mouth to make an angry reply, and then stopped. It was a fair question, even though she didn't want to give him the right answer. "What if I said no?" she asked hopefully.

He gave her a dirty look, although there was humor there as well. "Then I'd have to say you're being your usual holier-than-thou self."

"And then I'd have to come back with something really witty, but my brain is too tired for that tonight."

They were both smiling reluctantly at this point, and the tension had all but dissipated. Spike nodded. "Then I'll leave you to your bed, pet."

Spike wasn't quite sure what part of the night Buffy was referring to since they'd gone from shagging in the cemetery to rescuing Dawn, but he didn't feel like asking. Maybe it was enough that she'd actually shown some gratitude for a change.

Buffy watched as he let himself out her back door, biting back the urge to recall him. She wanted him to stay, to sleep with her, to tell her that she hadn't made the wrong decision. Her resolution had been so clear—it still was, in a way. Willow couldn't stay, not after the memory spell she had performed, and not after tonight's escapade. This was the right choice.

Willow laid in the darkness and seethed. Why couldn't Buffy understand that she had simply made a mistake? So she shouldn't have taken Dawn to Rack's. That had been bad. She hadn't been thinking straight.

Really, going to Rack's in the first place had been a bad decision. Taking the magical charge that he offered was the lazy way out. It was a rush, but it also meant that she had lost control. That's all that had happened. If she had been in control, Willow never would have summoned up that monster, and she certainly never would have put Dawn in danger.

And maybe she had taken Dawn to Rack's, but she had been there the whole time. Willow never would have let Dawn get hurt.

Now she had to scramble to find housing near campus. Buffy had given her a week to leave, and she'd intimated that she was being generous. Right. Generous would have been to forgive and forget, just like they always did for her.

She would have to talk to Xander tomorrow, make him understand what had really happened. He would be on her side, once she explained. He would see that she hadn't meant any harm.

Willow wondered what was going on between Spike and Buffy, and if that spark she'd seen between them had anything to do with Buffy's decision. This could be Spike's way of breaking the gang up again. He'd done it before, after all.

If that were what was going on, she'd fix it. Willow would fix him so he couldn't hurt Buffy or Dawn, or turn them against their friends.

"...When they say you're/not that strong/Well you're not that weak...There's nothing left to prove/Nothing I won't do/Nothing like the pain/I feel for you/Nothing left to hide/ Nothing left to fear/I am always here./What you want/What you lost/What you had/What is gone is over./What you've got/What you love/What you need is real./If it's not enough/It's not enough/It's not enough/I'm sorry..." Our Lady Peace, "Not Enough"

Dawn didn't know if Spike had talked to Buffy about spending more time with her or not, but she was betting on not. It wasn't like she blamed him for being obsessed. Dawn thought that if she'd loved a guy as much as Spike had loved Buffy, and he'd died, and then got brought back to life—well, she could understand his focus.

That didn't mean she didn't miss him. It also didn't mean that she wasn't just a little bit angry at Spike for forgetting all about her.

"Spike?" Dawn peered around the upper level of they crypt hesitantly. She was feeling a little anxious at this point. Thinking about dropping in on Spike had seemed like a good idea while she was daydreaming her way through a lecture on the Industrial Revolution. Now that Dawn was here, knowing how angry he'd be at her intrusion, it was more difficult to hold onto her bravery. "Are you here?"

His voice, coming straight out of the floor, caused Dawn to scream, dropping her backpack on the floor. "Spike!"

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Evil vampire, Niblet. What the hell did you expect?"

He sighed. "We talked about this, Dawn. Told you I'd speak to Buffy 'bout things." The mulish expression on her face suggested that she wasn't mollified in the least. "What brought this on?"

"That's how Willow was treating me when I saw her this morning," Dawn said. "Like I was too stupid to know that Rack wanted to—I don't know. Do something. She was being all perky and nice like nothing had happened, but I'm not stupid. I know how bad it was."

"And then I found out that there's this big party Kirsty is having, and she invited everybody except for me," Dawn continued. There was no one around to talk about her day with anymore. After the way Willow had behaved, Dawn couldn't talk to her. Tara was gone, Buffy was usually in her own world, and Xander and Anya were caught up in their wedding plans.

That left Spike, now that he seemed willing to hang out with her again, at least when she dropped in on him unannounced.

"I'm sorry, Bit," Spike said awkwardly. He didn't mind listening, but he wasn't quite sure what to say. Was he supposed to fix it?

Dawn shrugged. "It's okay. Well, it's not, but there isn't anything you can do about it."

"Wish I could," he said. Spike moved a little closer, reaching out to tentatively touch her cheek. They had become a little more comfortable touching one another over the summer. Once the first contact was made, Dawn moved closer, feeling his arms close around her hesitantly.

Tara still gave hugs, but Buffy never really did. Come to think of it, Buffy hadn't really hugged her a lot before she'd died either. Their mom had been the demonstrative one. She and Buffy were more likely to get into a fight and yell at each other.

Spike could hear her sniffles, and he pulled back abruptly. "Hey, now. What's this?"

"Sorry," Dawn gulped, trying to wipe away the moisture as best she could with the back of her hand.

"Don't be sorry," Spike replied, his voice as gentle as it ever was. "What's botherin' you, Bit?"

"Wish I was," Spike replied. "I'd love to know what was goin' on in your sister's head."

"Buffy's weird." Dawn dismissed Buffy's eccentricities as only a younger sibling could. "She likes you."

Dawn shrugged. "Well, she made Xander leave last night, and she asked you to stay. She looks at you differently, too."

She settled down on his sarcophagus. "She was last night. Buffy definitely doesn't hate you any more." At his slightly glum expression, she encouraged, "That's an improvement!"

Dawn frowned. There was definitely more going on between her sister and Spike than she knew about. "How do you know if you're in love with someone?"

Spike took a breath, sitting down next to her. It looked like it was going to be one of those conversations. He and Dawn didn't often get serious, but it happened on occasion. "Dunno. I guess you just know. Why?"

"There's a guy at school that I like, and I think he might like me, but I don't know."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Please, Spike. It's just for future reference. It's not a big deal."

Spike decided not to push it. "Maybe you ought to be headin' home, Niblet. It's gonna be dark soon."

Dawn shook her head. "I don't want to be in the house with Willow right now. I'm still mad at her for making me miss the movie, and I don't want to pretend that everything is okay."

Dawn shrugged. "She went to meet up with Tara. I think they're hanging out again." Dawn brightened visibly. "Maybe if Willow moves out, Tara will come around more often."

"That would be good for both of you," Spike commented. There really wasn't a way he could make her leave, and truth be told Spike enjoyed her company. It had been so long since they'd been able to see one another, and his dealings with Dawn were refreshingly straight-forward.

Spike knew how badly she cheated, but he couldn't say no. It wasn't like he hadn't taught her every trick he knew.

Of course, what he hadn't realized at the time was that Joyce had taught her daughter a few tricks as well.

"Right, but we're playing for points, not money," Spike said. "Your sister finds out I taught you to gamble, she'd kill me."

"Okay." Dawn was already trying to figure out a way around that. Last time she'd played gin with Spike, she'd made enough money to buy a new pair of jeans. "Person with the least points buys dinner."

Spike sighed, unable to say no, and yet knowing that he was probably going to throw the game just to make sure Dawn got something decent to eat. Of course, if he fed Dawn, he'd have an excuse to feed Buffy, and the Slayer needed more meat on her bones. "Fine. I'll deal first."

Buffy sat down across from Tara, her hands gripping the warm mug. Tea wasn't her favorite, but it was less expensive than a mocha, and money was still tight. She had no idea how she was going to make Christmas merry this year.

She also had no idea what she was going to do about the frost-monster-thing, or what she was going to say to Xander, or how to deal with Willow. Buffy thought it might be a bad sign that she couldn't work up the energy to care.

Tara hesitated, and then nodded. "It's nothing bad, Buffy. It's not a fundamental change, if that's what you're worried about."

"Then I guess I can tell Spike that I'm not sleeping with him because I came back 'wrong.'" Buffy stared down into the rapidly cooling liquid in her mug. She wasn't certain whether she ought to be relieved or disappointed.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You know Spike. He tends to let his mouth run without engaging his brain." She gave a short laugh. "Of course, so do I. It's amazing that we haven't killed each other yet."

"Whatever you want to call it," Buffy admitted. "I guess I should probably let you know that Willow's moving out."

"I didn't know what else to do." Buffy was quiet. "You know, she's made mistakes with the magic before. The 'my will be done' spell almost got us all killed, and then with Olaf, not to mention the memory spell. I guess we always figured that since it was Willow, it wasn't a big deal, but what she did with Dawn—"

Tara put her hand over Buffy's. "It's okay. If you need to, I don't mind. It hurts, but I don't have any regrets on my end."

Buffy nodded, and then continued. "She went to this guy's—Rack's—and she took Dawn with her. When we got there, the look on his face when he saw Dawn..." She trailed off.

Tara could just imagine. If Willow was visiting Rack, she'd fallen further than Tara had ever dreamed she would. "I don't think he'd come after her," Tara said quietly. "I've heard rumors, and he's, well, he's kind of lazy."

Buffy smiled. "Lazy bad guys, huh? I could get used to that." She gave Tara a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry."

"Where are you staying?" Buffy asked. "I mean, you could come back to the house if you want once Willow leaves. If you need a place."

"I don't," Tara replied gently. "I've got a little apartment not too far from campus. It's not much, but I've got all my things there already."

"I understand," Buffy said. "You won't be a stranger, though? I know how much Dawn enjoys seeing you. I mean, I know she's missed you since—"

Tara rose as well. "I need to do some studying." She hesitated. "Let me know a good time, and I'll come by." Her smile held a hint of teasing. "I could cook."

Buffy smiled, and then laughed. "I take it someone told you about my cooking skills."

They looked at each other for a moment, two women who suddenly found themselves friends by default, rather than by choice. It was an odd position for both, and Tara impulsively gave Buffy a hug. "Hang in there."

Xander had his doubts. He wanted to believe Willow, he really did. She was his oldest friend, and he really didn't like the thought of Buffy hanging out with Spike so much. He was also thinking about the spells that Willow had done lately that had gone wrong. "I know you wouldn't hurt Dawn intentionally," he began. "But, Will, you put her in danger."

"Look, if you want me to talk to Buffy, I will," he finally said. "I think maybe she needs some space, though. What we did—"

"We did for her own good." Willow had her resolve face on, but instead of being convincing, Xander found himself even more uncomfortable. He believed that Willow believed that, but he didn't. Not when Buffy drifted around, not when there wasn't any life in her eyes.

Not when she would choose Spike over her friends. The friends who had pulled her out of heaven.

Spike had warned them. Xander hated that he was even thinking it, but Spike had told them that there were always consequences to magic, and it looked like they were facing them now.

"Willow, Buffy's not happy." He said the words, and he knew they were nothing but the truth. They hurt to say, though.

"She would be if I could just fix it," Willow said persuasively. "I could make it better."

"No!" Xander said, standing and backing away from her. "You can't just go messing around with people, not after what happened."

"No." Xander shook his head. "Leave it alone, Willow. Buffy will figure things out. Sometimes it takes her awhile, but she always comes back to us."

He strode out of her campus dorm room, finally sparing a moment to wonder how she'd managed to find a piece of prime real estate like this so late in the semester. Willow's room was just as nice as the one Buffy had given up when Joyce got sick. Xander had a feeling that he didn't want to know how Willow had done it.

Xander took a deep breath. He had come immediately after work. Willow had told him how awkward things were, she'd sounded sorry for what had happened over the phone. She was anything but sorry, though. Willow was just so sure she was right, so sure she could fix things with a wave of her hand.

Thinking about what Willow had said, Xander knew that he needed to talk to Buffy. Pulling out his cell phone, he called the Magic Box. "Anya? Hey, I'm going to be late for dinner tonight. I've got to see Buffy."

"I think Willow might be planning to do another spell," Xander replied. "I thought it might be a good idea to give Buffy a heads up."

"It's always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for," Anya said. "Didn't I tell you that?"

"Maybe you should just pick something up on the way home," she suggested. "I'm getting hungry, and I've still got some errands to run after I close the shop."

Xander knew Anya hated it when he put Buffy or Willow's needs before hers. He didn't quite understand it, since he was obviously attached to her. All she had to do was look at her hand to see it, but he also knew that he'd have some groveling to do later.

Anya was silent for a moment, and then said, "Okay, but Xander, we still have lots of wedding details to go over. I know it seems like the wedding is far away, but it's really not."

Now he just needed to go talk to the Slayer about his best friend. Sometimes Xander hated his life.

Buffy had come back to an empty house. She couldn't say that she minded Willow not being around, but Dawn's absence concerned her. Her little sister hadn't said anything about any after-school activities.

She decided to put the panic on hold until the sun went down, which it soon did with no sign of Dawn. Buffy was ready to go find Spike and have him help her hunt Dawn down when the two of them came waltzing through the front door.

"I went to Spike's after school," Dawn replied. "And then I made him walk me home."

"What if something like this happens again?" she asked. "Or what if I need to get ahold of you? You're getting a phone."

"Then get a cell phone, I don't care." Buffy narrowed her eyes. "But I want to know where my sister's at when she's gone after dark. If she's with you, fine, but I want to know about it."

Spike and Dawn exchanged a look. "So it's okay if I hang out with Spike?" Dawn asked hopefully.

"Not all the time," Buffy stipulated. "I don't want you in the cemetery all the time, and I think it would definitely be better if you had some friends your own age. But I suppose on occasion it might be okay."

Buffy was doing it for herself as much as for either Dawn or Spike. She'd seen Spike's ability to get Dawn to do something as simple as go to bed the previous night. If Spike could take some of the parenting detail off her hands, so much the better.

"Well, it's not like Niblet could be there all the time anyway," Spike asserted, following Buffy as she started to head towards the kitchen. "'s not like I don't have a life."

"Spike's allowed to find you irritating," Buffy said. "And you shouldn't bug him all the time."

"I won't," Dawn replied, sounding a little sulky. "It's not like I don't have friends."

"And I wonder who taught her." The idea of not having to think about cooking or feeding anyone was refreshing. "What are we eating?"

Buffy waited until she'd dashed up the stairs. "You really don't have to take the two of us out."

"And how long's it been since you've had a decent meal, luv?" Spike asked. "You're not eatin' nearly enough to my liking."

The moment hung between them, turning warm. Buffy was about to reply when she heard Xander's voice in the front hall. "Buffy? Are you home?"

Xander came through, grimacing when he saw Spike, but he didn't say anything. "I think we might have a problem with Willow."

"She moved already?" Buffy was surprised. She had expected Willow to try to stretch things out for as long as possible. "Where?"

"On campus," Xander said. "And you wouldn't believe the dorm room she got. She—Willow was talking about 'fixing' you."

"Fixing me?" Buffy asked, her eyebrows going up. "Why would I need to be fixed?"

Xander hesitated. "You kicked Willow out, Buf. And, you know, the whole heaven thing... I think Willow wants to make it better."

"You know how she can make it better?" Buffy asked. "She can leave it alone. I'm dealing, Xander. About the only thing that would help at this point is sending me back."

"I know you're sorry, Xander," she said, softening her tone. "Willow isn't. She isn't sorry for putting Dawn in danger. She thinks she can do no wrong, and that just isn't true."

Her friend hesitated, glancing over at Spike. He wanted to know what Buffy was doing with the vampire, but he didn't want to ask the question with Spike standing there.

"I just wanted to let you know what she said." Xander shrugged. "I don't know if she'll do anything, but at least you know."

"Might want to get Glinda over here to do her mojo," Spike suggested. "She might be able to put up a protection spell or something."

"Depends on what it's for. Somethin' like this, I think I can live with it, so to speak."

"Are we going?" Dawn asked impatiently from the doorway. "If we don't hurry, the restaurant is going to get really busy."

"Grab our coats, Dawn," Buffy ordered, then turned back to Xander. "Thanks for the warning, Xander. I doubt she'll do anything, though."

Xander watched as Buffy shrugged into the coat Dawn handed her. "We'll see you later, Xan. Lock up behind you, okay?"