Part 8:

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"So----I'm guessing you want I should stand in the middle of this---circle you so graciously poured out here on the floor?" Spike stood, hands on his hips, head cocked to the side, smirk forming at his mouth, very Spike-like in every possible way.

Willow stopped what she was doing and just stared at him, mouth agape. Meg, Dawn, and Xander snickered in the background, as Giles rolled his eyes and shook his head, all the while mumbling something indistinct under his breath.

Finally, the red-haired witch spoke without any trace of annoyance in her voice. "Oh, no, no, no. You, dearest Spike, have to hop *around* the circle on one foot while patting the top of your head and rubbing your tummy." She smiled sweetly at him.

"Touche," Spike smiled back as he folded his arms across his chest.

She glanced up at Giles momentarily, nodding her head as the Watcher moved towards Spike to escort him to the circle. Dawn ran up to them, halting their progress as she threw her arms around Spike. He in turn placed a hand on her arm while he ran the other over her brunette locks, soothing her as best as he could.

"Come home soon, safely, with my sister." she whispered.

"I will try my best, bit. Not going to make promises this time, but I will honestly try my best." Spike looked over to Giles.

"You sure this magic spell will work?" his gaze slowly shifted to the two witches. "I mean, the me not dying in the hellmouth part."

Giles patted him reassuringly on the back. "Don't fret over the trivialties. You do what you need to do and let us do what we need to do. Willow should be able to keep a link with you and you should have no problems what-so-ever communicating telepathically with her."

"Got it. It's only my life that's trivial and hanging in the balance now." Spike quickly noticed the off look he received from the watcher and quickly changed the subject.

"Let's get the show on the road, then. Time's a-wasting here, ladies and gents." Spike stepped into the inner circle and held his unneeded breath tightly in his chest.

Willow proceeded and tossed something Spike was sure was some magical herbal compost in the air over his head, causing him to pull his chin down to his chest and scrunch his nose up from the odor it emitted. Suddenly his head shot up to glare at the witch.

"Red, something----something's happening here. I feel really weird---," Spike vanished into the air before Willow even had a chance to utter one word of the transport spell. All six of them stood and watched in amazement and confusion not knowing what had just transpired.

"Is he---did he---are you sure he went where he was supposed to go?" Anya seemed annoyed. Willow and Meg seemed confidant they knew what they were doing and what was going to occur when they *did* do the spell. Neither one answered Anya's question and both her and Dawn became agitated. Meg cleared her throat and nudged her girlfriend slightly in the ribs.

"Oh of course we know that he went into the hellmouth. Hopefully somewhere close to where Buffy is being kept." She smiled upon finishing her staccato but upbeat confirmation. The other girls didn't seem to be as confidant.

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He noticed the darkness first, then the heat. The air sizzled around him; he felt as if he was free falling but didn't fear too much about the landing. All his senses were overly sensitized. He strained his eyes, but they couldn't cut through the thick blackness. The smell was of death and fire, intense heat; the sounds were too many, not only the whizzing air but other odd and undiscernable noises. In an instant, all came to a stop and he could tell he was standing on solid ground.

'Bollocks, now what? How am I supposed to see my way 'round here without a torch or even my lighter would be nice? Any kind of light would be nice,' he thought. As if someone had been listening in on his private conversation, the room he was standing in slowly began to grow brighter making it seem as if he was surrounded by spotlights. He stood there to let his eyes adjust to the higher level of light while his body acclimated to the new surroundings. He wasn't in a room at all, but what looked to be a long hallway with only a few inches space on either side of his shoulders.

Spike looked behind him quickly then turned his eyes back to the front. Either way led to darkness, he just wished he knew which was the right way to head off in. He shut his eyes tightly, focusing on her, trying to lay out a map in his mind, trying to sense his girl. It hit him like a ton of bricks and disappeared just as quickly. He knew it was her he felt, could smell, almost taste her. He turned and headed in the right direction, at least in his mind it was.

The hallway he walked through lit up with every few steps he took. Spike stopped and turned, looking at the way he just came. "Huh," he grunted as he mused over the situation. The lights were following him, keeping him surrounded at all times, reminding him of some type of sensory system programmed to come on when it detected any kind of motion. He shrugged and continued on his way. In some areas of the hallway, the ceiling would dip, causing Spike to have to lean down to keep from hitting his head. Even the walls would narrow at times, just enough to make him turn to shimmy his way along.

After what seemed like hours, the hall opened up into a fairly large room, its walls lined with doors. Many doors to be precise.

"Bugger all," he growled. "I hate these lil games."

He walked over to the first door, slid his hand into the groove, and waited. It wasn't as if he was afraid, no, never that. Just not looking forward to what he may find once he did open the door.

Spike sighed, "Well, Monty, let see what's behind door number one, shall we?"

Nothing happened. He yanked on it once, twice even three times for good measure. Shuffling over to the second door, it remained shut as well. The third door didn't promise anything either. Spike growled, throwing his hands up in the air while turning to look at the room and the other doors, noticing the intricate designs of some ancient and dark artwork on the floor.

"I'm guessing I'm gonna need a key. Shoulda brought the bit," he chuckled slightly at his little joke.

He began to stride across the expanse of the room to the other side, slowing his gait when he reached the center which was slightly raised up from the rest of the floor.. He stopped for some unknown reason on the small platform, transfixed by the odd design that seemed to float up towards him as he looked down at it. Without any warning, the area gave way like a trapdoor and he plummeted down into nothingness.

"Oh, shiii-----," he yelled in alarm. Instantly, he was swallowed up by the blackness, losing conciousness almost immediately.

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He came to slowly, hearing nothing except himself moaning. His head was throbbing and his first thought was he needed to lay off the liquor. Then he remembered; he hadn't had a drink in quite a while and then fear clutched his chest momentarily. It subsided almost instantly as he slowly opened his eyes and had to blink. Nothing really. He was sitting in the middle of a rather large, rather rotund room, no door, no windows yet there was light all around, not necessarily bright but a dim light that created a lack-lustre effect on the walls encircling him.

No noises, no---he sniffed the air as he was wont to do---conspicuous scents, no nothing. Only an eternal, freaking wall, even the ceiling was round. At first he imagined himself a gladiator readying for his fight with the beast. But hey, who knew, he might be considered the beast.

"Bloody ridiculous, is what it is," he grumbled as he stood only to be put back in his place by some unforeseen hand. "What the f----."

"Salutations, William," the voice boomed, interrupting the vampire's complaint. "We've been expecting you."

"Oh, you have, have you? And who is *we* exactly?" Spike glanced around the room hurriedly, checking to see if he was still the only one in the room.

"We are the beginning. We are much older than time itself. We are the first. Why are you here?" the voice reverberated around him.

"Came to seek out a girl. I believe you have her here---somewhere." he grumbled.

"Ah, the chosen one. Do you honestly think you will find her?" the voice asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Well--yeah! Vampire here, with all the extra sensories tied up in this good looking package." he smiled mischieviously.

"Then you won't mind if I ask a few questions?"

Spike smirked. "M'not going anywhere, am I now. Ask away."

"Why do you want the slayer?"

"Her family, her friends, they need her. The world needs her, you might want to say, to balance the chaos," he replied matter-of-factly.

"I did not hear you mention yourself. Do you not need her as well? Are you not obsessed with this slayer? Just like the two you previously hunted down and murdered?" the voice teased.

Spike remained quiet for a bit. "I respected those slayers. It was their job, it was their fight. Yes, I sought them out. I loved the battle, the rush of fighting. Never knowing if I would win or lose. Knowing I would win. It was all about the power---and the dance. The power flowing through them into me."

"So you drank from them?"

"No,---well, yes. The first one. Needed to taste, feel. The second was all about the dance."

"You sought out the third slayer?"

"No, I didn't actually look for her at first. Came to Sunnydale only because of Dru, my sire. She was very sick. Needed her sire's blood. Found the annointed one who was fighting the slayer. Then I made the effort to "seek" her as you say."

"You tried to kill her, yes?"

"Tried,"

"She tried to kill you, correct?"

"Yes."

"And yet after these many years, both of you have repeatedly failed to kill one another. Why is that?" it seem to be goading him.

Spike groaned. "It's a long story."

"Enlighten me."

"Hey, aren't you all-knowing, shouldn't you know the whole story by now?" He was met with an irritating silence.

"Fine, very well. I think we never really wanted to kill each other in the first place. I think we are both equally strong. I believe we both enjoyed our dance together. That's it in a nutshell."

"Hmm, not a very long story. Aren't you in love with the slayer?"

Silence permeated the air. "I asked you a simple question," the voice hissed loudly causing the vampire to jump slightly.

"Yes."

A sickly chuckle. "So, you are saying you are actually in love with the slayer, killer of your kind, your mortal enemy, you, a demon?"

"Yes, me, a demon and---a man. I love her with all that I am."

"How can you love? I realize you have a pitiful excuse for a soul now, but before. I know you were in love with her even before you won your soul back. Even before he really even knew yourself."

Spike began to squirm in his seat. "I don't rightly understand that wholly myself. Love is one thing I always strived for when I was a human. I believe I carried it over with what humanity stuck with me in the demon aspect. Without it, I am an insecure underachiever, weak. When I was human, I was weak and insecure, but I was good. My morals and beliefs were strong. I would have never hurt anyone or anything."

"Uh-huh, I see. Would you do anything for this human, this slayer?"

"Yes, I would."

"Would you die for her?"

A pause. "Yes, a million times over."

"Amazing. I am truly baffled. You think this slayer, a human female, could love a thing like you?" it jabbed.

"I could only hope." Spike looked down at his fee. "The life of a slayer is complicated. It's very dark and filled with death yet they seem to radiate with goodness and light. A balance I will never understand which seems to make them unhappy and alone. All I want is for her to be happy."

"And you think you can make her happy, give her a life she so richly deserves?"

"I can try. Why do you think I went to get my soul back? I did it for her. She deserves not to hurt, not to hate, not to die. She deserves to be happy."

"Do you think she could love you without a soul? Love you as a demon? And what if you lost your love for her? You think she would find it again or just kill you, rid herself of the headache and of the empty promises?"

Spike's eyes flashed yellow. "Why don't you ask her? I can't answer for her."

"If she wants a human mate, someone weaker than herself, would you go back to your human form?

"If that would maker her happy---yes, I would. In a heartbeat." Spike's voice trailed off.

"Do you think she will ever trust you again after what you did to her? Handing her over to the darkness?"

"You did that, not me. I had no will over what you pulled with me." Spike spat vehemently.

"Very well, I am finished with you."

"What do you me---."

"No more questions."

"Oh!"

"Get some rest, William. Soon, very soon, you will see your slayer. Take heed, you will have to fight for her life. One of you must give up your life for the other. I am anticipating the outcome of it all." it seemed evilly gleeful.

Spike sat, eyes staring blankly and mouth hanging open. Maybe the watcher and the witches were not correct in their assumptions after all. Death was always on their heels, in one way or another.

TBC

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'Red, you there? Can you hear me? Red, answer me. I need to talk to you.-- -Oh, come on, Willow.' he barked out the last words in his head.

'Don't growl at me!' Willow scolded.

'There you are. Was beginning to wonder if all that blathering the watcher went on about was all just a bunch of sodden flim flam.'

'Apparently not. What's up? Did you find Buffy yet?'

Spike snorted outloud. 'Apparently not---or I'd bloody well be on my way back home right 'bout now, wouldn't you think?' he replied sarcastically.

'Didn't know you were gonna be a Mr. grumpy vampire.'

'Yeah, well you try doing this after being interrogated and then told that you just might be on the receiving end of everlasting death just to save Buffy. Doesn't fit too well in my book of happy, joyful moments. Now doesn't that seem like a fairly good reason to be grumpy?'

'Spike, please, don't let that enter your head. You need to stay focused, let us work on the other. We're doing so now. You'll be coming back with Buffy, I promise. I'm not saying the evil whoever won't try to pull a fast one, but I need your head clear, that way I can tell what is going on. Okay?'

'Yeah, right then. I can do that. I'm putting my unlife in your hands.'

'I'll be checking back with you later. If you need me, give a holler.'

'Got it.'

Spike sprawled out on the floor, hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling above him.

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'SPIKE!'

He sat up, eyes wide. "Ahhh---oh." 'BLOODY HELL, RED, don't *do* that to me. Was sleeping, not very wise to sneak up on a vampire when they're sleeping.'

'I'll take note of that and---I'm really sorry. It's just that I've been trying to reach you for an hour and was getting worried something had happened.'

'No, nothing yet. Whatchya need?'

'We have things prepared for your travel back, with Buffy of course. We need to work out a signal of some sort. When you have her and are ready to go. We will need a few minutes to do the actual incantation itself.'

'Alright, I'll just tell you and expect the wait. But what if things go down? What if something bad pops up?'

'Then just tell me. Let me know, like say 'Code Red' or---huh, that's kinda funny---Code Red. I like it. You know, since you call me that.'

'Okay, okay. Code Red it is then. If the shit hits the fan, you'll know. Wait, someone's coming. It's---Buffy. Gotta go.'

Spike stood abruptly and stared at her. She looked at him in confusion for a split second then turned her face away. He felt anger bubbling up from within him, she didn't look like his Buffy. Her hair looked unkempt and hung limply over her shoulders. Her eyes were dull, lifeless and dark circles encompassed them. Her clothes were dirty and draped loosely off her body.

'Willow, I thought I heard Willow."

"No, luv. S'just me. Come to take you home, pet." he crooned softly as if not to startle her.

She turned back to him and glared. "Why would I want to go with you? You brought me here, didn't you? Sent me here to rot, rot for all of eternity. I thought you loved me and you tried to destroy me. I was an idiot to think I ever---."

"No, no Buffy. That wasn't me, only me physically, but not me. I wasn't in control of what I did. You have to believe me. I would never, never intentually hurt you, you know that , don't you? You believe me? Please, Buffy, believe me. I love you so very much, always and forever." his voice hitched near the end of his confession.

Buffy's face softened as her eyes welled up, tears threatening to spill over. Her smile was weak and he could barely see his girl trying so desperately to get out of this weathered and worn shell. He smiled and took a step towards her, slowly reaching out to touch her. The smile faded on her lips as she held up a hand and shook her head violently.

"No," she whispered. "they'll see, they'll know. I'm supposed to---hate you. Supposed to fight you so I can go home. Go back. I'm supposed to--- kill you---for my freedom. I---I just don't---Don't touch me, don't smile, don't look at me, not like that. You have to fight, fight me, Spike. Fight like you want to kill me, fight like you used to fight with me, like you want to rip me apart, drain me dry. Let's dance---dance and make it look good."

"Buffy, I don't know if I can---."

Buffy walked towards him briskly, hands clenched, she drew a fist back and hit him square in the face. "Shut up, you son of a bitch. I said fight and you're gonna fight me."

She pulled back again, but this time when she swung he swayed to the side, catching her fist in his tight grip and twisting her arm behind her back reaching his other arm around her neck, and leaning his mouth to her ear.

"I'll fight you, bitch. You won't even know what you hit you." he growled deeply.

Buffy chuckled, throwing her head back and butting his, causing him to lose his grip on her as he stumbled backwards. She swiftly turned and caught him with a right roundhouse, throwing him through the air and landing with a thud on his back. He shook his head to clear the stars and birdies away that were floating behind his eyes and jumped up in time to block her second kick, catching her foot, turning it and pushing her away. This gave him ample time to give a shout out to Willow.

'Will, now, do it now. We need to get out of here quick like.'

'I hear you, we got it started. What's going on?'

'Can't---really---talk---right now. Just---stick---close by.'

'Will do.'

"Fight, damn you," Buffy hissed as she continued to pummel him senseless. Blood trickled down from the cut above his eye and from his busted lip. The nose was the next to go yet he couldn't will himself to hit her, or at least hit her hard. He blocked most of her punches and kicks but the ones that got through were close to being deadly. She knew he was holding back, could feel it in his punches. She was scared for him, didn't want to kill him, didn't want him to die, but she had to make it look good. A rush of wind swept by them. Too late, they, it was onto them.

"ENOUGH!" it roared angrily. "This isn't a fight, it's a beating. Can't have it. No, not at all. His love for you is getting in the way. Not anymore. We will have to do something about that, now, won't we?"

'Red, red, code red, Red. Get us the hell out of here, NOW!' Spike wheezed as he stood up straight from his stooped over position. He looked at Buffy with fear in his eyes, and saw the same reflected back.

'I hear you, Spike. You have to be touching her, holding onto her. Should be about ten seconds, just hold on tight.' Willow rushed out in one long breath.

He felt it, it was too late. Hot, searing vice-like grip on his ribcage, penetrating. His heart felt as if it was being ripped from his chest. His eyes flashed ferally as he tried to keep his senses. Buffy cried out softly, as he lunged towards her.

'RED! Gotta go NOW!' Spike wrapped his arms around Buffy tightly.

'Done!'

A blinding flash of white light hit them both.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

"Are they alive? They both look awful."

"Anya, please, not helping." Xander pulled her away from hovering over Giles and Willow while they checked on the pair. Dawn sat quietly on the couch, afraid of what was to be the outcome of Spike and Buffy's interdimensional hellmouthy travel.

"Buffy's alive, got a pulse. Giles? How's Spike doing?"

"It is difficult to say, really. No breathing, no pulse, no movement. He's been beaten up rather splendidly, though."

"I had a feeling something was going on down there. Oh, Buffy is coming to." Willow announced.

The slayer's eyes slowly opened and blinked a few times. She couldn't focus on anything but she heard them, her friends were talking, about her and about---Spike. Spike! Oh, God, what happened? She remembered, that thing, the evil, bad thing was hurting him, then Spike was looking at her, so scared, and he was talking to Willow, without moving his lips, screaming to get them out of there, rushing towards her and grabbing her.

"Spike? Is he---alright?" her voice was raspy.

Giles laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He's still out, Buffy, but he's strong. I'm sure he is fine, will be fine."

"But you don't know---of course you don't know. They were hurting him, doing something to him, right before he grabbed me and I passed out."

Dawn stood up and walked around to stand in front of her sister. She dropped to her knees and wanted so much to hug Buffy.

"Dawnie, it is so good to see you."

The sisters threw their arms around each other simultaneously and hugged tightly, rocking back and forth as tears began to trickle from them both. A groan was heard from the body still lying flat on his back next to Buffy. She gasped and turned to look at his bruised face.

"Spike," Buffy whispered leaning closer to him. "Spike, you did it. We made it back home. You were so brave, so smart. You got us---."

Spike smiled rolling his head back and forth. "Dru, love, what are you talking about?"

Buffy was surprised. "No, not Dru. Buffy, it's me, Buffy."

He chuckled, his eyes still closed. Giles looked at the three girls sitting and watching the vampire.

"I just think he's disoriented. Could be from the spell, could be the interim from the travel. Anything. Don't worry, Buffy." She shook her head in confirmation.

Spike moaned again, his brow creasing. "Buffy? What the---."

His eyes shot open, and a look of shock passed over his features as he sat up slightly, leaning back on his elbows. His sight travelled over each and every occupant standing, sitting, squatting in the living room surrounding him. No one seemed to be giving him any threatening looks, no one seemed to be holding any pointy weapons over him. But it still didn't give him any confidence for his safety. With that in mind, and trying his hardest not to look like too much of a ponce, he shuffled back in a crabwalk as fast as his hands and legs could carry him, running smack into the front of the couch and landing on his bum.

Buffy rolled over onto her hands and knees, still feeling a bit weak, too weak in fact to stand up vertically.

"Spike?" she wheezed, concern showing as she slowly began a crawl in his direction.

"Stay away from me, Slayer." he growled out as he pointed a finger in her direction. "You and your mates, I don't know what you've done to me. What have you done to Dru? Where is she, you bloody---?"

"Spike," Giles spoke softly. "you're delusional right now. Think hard. You've been working with us for quite sometime now. Drusilla's been away for quite sometime. We're all friends. Remember? You went into the hellmouth to retrieve Buffy."

The puzzled look faded away as he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the couch cushion. It all came back to him in one big, blinding slideshow. Spike shook his head up and down as Giles sat down next to him. Buffy stood on shaky legs, using the corner of the coffe table to aide her and slowly stepped over to the two of them. All of a sudden, he grabbed Giles arm and stood, pulling the watcher up with him. Everyone noticed that he was now hiding behind Giles, using him as a shield from Buffy. An eery and deathly quiet hovered over the room.

TBC

Part 10:

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"Spike?" her voice squeaked his name out. He wouldn't even look at her, or the others as a matter-of-fact. But he kept a tight grip on Giles' arm as they all stood silently, wondering what to do, what to say.

Giles held up a finger before anyone uttered a word. "Buffy, why don't you go upstairs and get yourself cleaned up? Willow and Dawn can assist you. Xander, Anya and Meg, could you please prepare us all something to eat?"

Xander nodded and the two girls trailed behind him into the kitchen while Dawn and Willow proceeded to escort Buffy up the stairs to help her along with a shower and to slip into a less pungent and worn attire. Giles heard a muffled whimper escape from her throat, and looked her in the eye, giving her his best reassuring smile. Reluctantly, she let them lead her away.

Once everyone had left the living room, Giles turned to look over the vampire still standing close by but at least not clutching onto him any longer. "Are you alright?"

Spike's head snapped around, bringing him out of his reverie as realization hit him that he wasn't standing there all alone. He took a step back when he noticed how close he actually was to the watcher. Spike cleared his throat and looked down at his feet.

"Yeah, I think so. I feel---different. I'm remembering stuff now. Remembering things that have happened in the past but then there are pieces that seem to be missing. I can feel those pieces missing, like big, gaping holes. Does that make any bloody sense?"

"In a way, I guess. Here, sit, lets start from the beginning. You know who you are, I assume?" Giles sat down on the couch and faced the vampire who had also sat down.

Spike shook his head yes. "Spike, and I'm a vampire. Came to Sunnydale a few years back with Dru, ended up helping Buffy "save the world" from Angelus' wrath." He made quotes in the air.

"I left, took Dru with me, she ended up leaving me and I came back to this God-forsaken town. Had a sodden chip shoved in my brain by those wankers, reluctantly helped you gits---sorry, just remembering as I go along---then, there seems to be some things missing here. I mean, I remember helping you all out when I really didn't want to, then as time wore on, not minding it so much. I remember taking care of Dawn, especially after Buffy died. Then she came back and we----became friends? Huh, didn't see that one coming."

"So, you recall that you and Buffy worked together, are slaying partners in a sense, became friends, but nothing else about her and yourself?"

"No---just that, I think she tried to kill me. I mean recently.---It didn't look like her, didn't sound like her. I remember the pain *here* mostly," he held his fist over his unbeating heart, "and seeing her standing in front of me. And then black, it all went black. Are you sure-- -is that really her up there?" Spike looked up at the ceiling.

"Yes, most positive it is. She's been away for a very long time, well---a long time for her and she probably was kept in isolation. Who knows what they did to her. That can do something to a person, to their head. Do you remember exactly how she got there?"

"Wasn't she taken by a demon, took her away, down into the hellmouth? S'all I can dredge up, her being pulled into the hellmouth." Giles could see he was telling the truth by the look in his eyes.

"I see.---How do you feel about Buffy---about the slayer?"

"I feel like I'm in the middle of another interrogation again, s'what I feel. What do you mean?" Spike seemed to be getting tense again.

"I mean, what are your feelings towards her? Like, hate, love?"

"She's a friend, I guess I like her. Yet, sometimes I strongly dislike her but that's only when she's being a bitch." Giles softly laughed at his answer. Spike looked back at the staircase.

"You know, since you seem so sure that she really *is* the slayer up there, I think maybe----I think I should apologize to her----you know, for being so out of it earlier. Huh, I can't believe I just said that. I must be going out of my mind."

"Do you know why you feel so compelled to apologize?" Giles looked on as a sudden realization hit Spike.

"I have a soul," he whispered. "I can feel it now. How---why?---I must have been daft to go and do such a thing---and now I remember you helping *me*. With getting the chip out. The pain was unbearable, that's still vivid in my head. But why would I have gone to get a soul?

"You don't recollect anything about that at all?"

"I went to Africa, found a demon who could grant me what I wanted. I remember wanting to be a man more than a monster. Something happened.---I hurt someone---I think I hurt someone and it---it scared me, tore me up inside. Felt like I was being ripped in two. Had to change it, change myself. Couldn't bear to live with what I had done---I just don't know what it was." His voice trailed off.

Giles gently patted him on the shoulder. "I'm not really sure what's going on here with you yet, or with Buffy or what happened in the hellmouth. We'll talk to Buffy and see what she can rake up for us We will figure it out though. Come hell or high water we will figure out why there seems to be holes in your memory."

Spike looked up at the watcher, a bit of fear and anticipation appearing behind his eyes. "Am I really sure I want to find them again?"

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Buffy had remained silent through the whole showering ordeal, even while drying off and dressing. Dawn wished there was something she could do, it was just so good to have her back safe and sound, well, she was hoping for sound. The odd incident with Spike had her spooked and Buffy wasn't fairing very well from it either. She looked over at Willow, pleading with her to say something to Buffy, or just anything outloud. Willow caught the look.

"Buffy, it is so good to have you back home."

That's all it took as Buffy chose that moment to break down. Silent sobs wracked her body, leaving the two girls bewildered.

"Buffy, what's wrong, please talk to me and tell me what's wrong?" Dawn begged.

Buffy threw her arms around her sister, crying even harder. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," she gasped out between sobs. Willow stood close by and rubbed her back and her damp hair softly, trying her best to comfort the beaten down slayer.

Buffy quickly turned, grabbing Willow's hand and squeezing it. "Spike, what's wrong with him? Did something happened with the spell that brought us back? He's not the same, he didn't want me near him, he acted scared of me. Something's wrong, I need to find out what it is."

"Ok, ok, Buff, a little too slayerly with the hand grip here. We'll find out what happened, we will sit down and talk about it, find out what went wrong down there, or up here. Whatever the case may be. We'll figure it out, don't you worry your pretty little warrior head about it. And don't cry anymore, please. And don't go all coma-y on us either. Now, let's get your face washed up so you look somewhat presentable. And let's go get some nummies for that tummy of yours, put some more meat on these bones. Then we will all discuss the hellmouth happenings, deal?"

Buffy began to wipe her tears away with the back of her hand, nodding simultaneously. "Deal," she whispered.

"I missed you Buffy, We all missed you so much," Dawn tried hard not to break down herself. Her sister looked at her and gave her a weak smile.

"I missed you all, too. I'm happy I'm back at home, with my family." She pulled both girls into a group hug. The sniffles were lessening as she washed her face of the remaining tear tracks. "Let's go eat, I'm ravished."

The girls agreed heartily as they stayed on either side of Buffy, supporting her on the way down the stairs. At the bottom, as the living room came into view, she noticed that Spike and Giles were still lingering there, sitting on the couch. Both stood when the three entered. Spike and Giles exchanged a look, as Giles silently told Spike to make his move. The vampire nodded once and made his way around the table.

"Uh, Buffy, about earlier. I'm---sorry---if I upset you. Things were a bit wonky there on the get go. I didn't mean to go off and frighten y---." She didn't let him finish his sentence before she had pulled away from the girls and walked up to him, throwing her arms around his neck and embracing him enthusiastically.

Giles had cleared his throat and made an attempt to step in and stop things from progressing any further. But he noticed that Spike was returning the hug, a bit stiffly, but hugging nevertheless.

"I'm so thrilled you are alright." Buffy said in a hushed tone. She moved her hands around to cup his face as she pulled back to look into his eyes. Swiftly, she pulled him down to meet her lips, kissing him tenderly and passionately.

Giles cringed, especially when he noticed Spike become rigid automatically. He watched as the vampire grasped Buffy's forearms and forcefully push her a step away.

"Buffy, what are you doing?" his voice was raised an octave. He turned and looked at the watcher with astonishment. "What's going on, why is she doing this, acting this way?"

Buffy looked hurt as she glanced back and forth between the two men, her arms instinctively wrapping around herself.

"Uh, maybe we should all sit, have something to eat and then discuss this predicament." Giles offered.

"Yeah, your bloody well right we need to discuss matters." Spike huffed as he made his way into the kitchen.

Dawn and Willow swooped in to lead the dejected Buffy in as well, Giles sighing and following the others.

Hardly anyone spoke during the meal making the gathering around the dining table a bit on the uncomfortable side. Megan had fixed a mug of blood for Spike, which he took with a sincere smile, but who had also decided he would sit and eat along with the others, enjoying the delicious food that was being served.

Giles cleared his throat when he had finished, causing all to raise their eye levels higher than their plates sitting in front of them. He dabbed each conrner of his mouth with the napkin before setting it on the cleaned dish. Everyone else did the same, placing the utensils down to signal supper was over. Meg took the cue and scurried to clean off the table. Anya rose to help, even without being asked for it.

"So, I guess we should make some headway with the problem at hand. First things first, Buffy, can you tell us anything from your ordeal?" Giles wanted to hear his slayer's version of the story before delving in any deeper in the Spike tale.

"Well," her voice was uncommonly soft as she began. "I'm not really sure how long I was down there---in the hellmouth. Seems like an eternity. An eternity of doing not much of anything. Waiting. Waiting for I didn't know what. Hoping that someone was coming for me. There was no way for me to get out---and believe me, I searched for one. At first they, it, whatever, kept me chained to the wall, only to let me go when I ate. Then I guess they began to trust me more because I wasn't chained up anymore. The demon who brought me my meals, kept telling me to eat to keep my strength up. I was to fight someone, fight them for my freedom. Told me I was going to have a visitor, someone I knew."

Buffy turned and looked at Spike, who seem to be listening to her intently. "I had a strong feeling it was going to be you. I was having dreams, some of them seemed so real, some of them violent."

She looked back down at her clasped hands sitting on the table. "Just recently, a voice would speak to me, in my head, day and night. It told me all about the plan for Spike to come and rescue me. Told me I would have to fight him, fight him to the end. The only way I would be able to go home was if I killed him."

Buffy looked back up at him, tears pooling in her eyes. "I just want you to know I wasn't going to do that. I had to make it look good though, had to make it seem I was there to fight you to the death. I didn't know how I was going to get us both out alive, but I was going to try anything I could possibly think of. And then I heard you and I heard Willow. Heard you talking to each other. But you wouldn't fight back. I was so scared it was going to kill you. When it came into the room---and then you were in so much pain. Yet you were so brave, so clever, so fast. You got us out of there despite your agony."

"Wait," Giles interrupted. He glanced over at Spike who seemed to be off in his own little world, trying to fit pieces together. "He was in pain right before your transit back?"

Buffy shook her head in confirmation. "Yes, he grabbed his chest and screamed. I heard him yelling at Willow, well, yelling in his head, to get us out of there. He lunged at me, wrapping his arms around me and then a flash of white light before everything went black.

"Do either of you remember what the voice said? Before this all happened?" Giles queried.

Buffy took a chance to glimpse at the vampire seated across from her. His eyes were wide with puzzlement and he shook his head no. "Don't rightly recall any of it. Just that it stopped the fight."

"If I remember correctly," Buffy continued, "it said that we weren't fighting. That his love for me was getting in the way, and that it was going to fix that problem---or something like that. Then Spike grabbed his chest and screamed. And you know the rest."

Buffy looked back up at him, hoping that something would register with him, so he could tell them what was wrong with him. "I don't remember any of that," he whispered. "And I don't love you, slayer. Never have."

TBC

Part 11:

A/N Thanks for the reviews. Really makes me feel better that someone is reading and I would really love to hear any of your comments let me know how I'm really doing on this story. Please??!! Thanks a bunch.

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"What!?" Buffy stood, looking perplexed and slightly annoyed. "How can you say---after all these years? After all you've---that we've."

"BUFFY!" Giles roared loud enough to make everyone, including Spike, twitch in their seats and turn their attention to him. Buffy, a mask of anger and hurt evident on her face, looked at him incredulously. "Enough," he crooned more gently, "please, do sit down and let's discuss the matter without anymore outbursts."

She looked away, not at anyone in particular as she pulled her chair back up and sat down. Spike looked dipleased and exasperated. The ridiculousness of it all, he thought as he sat there stiffly trying his best not to utter a word while Giles pondered the situation. But he felt like he was being scrutinized under a microscope by everyone in the room. He was evil; well, okay, not so much now, or he wouldn't be sitting there amongst 7 human beings, eating pig's blood and beef stroganoff in their company. He knew it and he knew they knew it so no use in trying to be incorrigible anymore. In fact, he could feel the niggling sincerity and affection in his undead and cold heart for every human sitting in the dining room, whether you could call it love or just a strong like. He could really feel it; must be the soul. Bloody thing. That was something else he would have to debate with himself when he was alone. Giles was speaking now, so he cut the conversation off in his head for the time being.

"So, there seems to be something amiss here and we are going to find out what it is or what we can do about this misconception."

"Apparently," he paused for dramatic effect only while holding his hand towards Spike, "Spike has had some readjustments to his thoughts and memories. Could have happened from the spell, but all my bets point towards The First as the miscreant. From what you both have relayed back to me about the final minutes in the hellmouth, I have concluded that The First somehow surreptitiously appropriated Spike's memories of his actual feelings for Buffy in a momentary coup de grace. It was, I believe trying to vie for the upperhand, attempting to remain in control and reign over the warriors, allowing you to be kept separate from one another in one way or the other. Believing one of you would actually kill the other, thereby making it all the easier for It to take over the Earth. Maybe It knows more about the two of you than you, or we actually know about the two of you. Though I find that highly unlikely, what with all the research and several prophecies pertaining to you both to boot "

"And for those of us who don't have a pocket dictionary, I'm thinking, huh?" Xander put on his confused face.

"He's saying that---", Buffy's line of sight traveled slowly up so it was resting in Spike's eyes, who looked on at her with heartfelt sorrow and discord. "The First, during our, Spike's and mine, battle for dominance, was ticked off because only one of us was making it seem like we were really fighting. That's what It said, it wasn't a fight, It was angry and decided to up the odds of death by taking something precious away." Buffy began to cry, uncontrollable tears sliding down her cheeks.

"It took his heart, one of his very core aspects, the one that made him love me without a soul," she whispered. She quickly stood and ran from the room, taking the stairs two at a time and slamming her bedroom door shut.

Spike stood abruptly, eyes wide with confusion and a little fear, debating on whether to follow her. Everyone was staring, at him, making him once again feel the culprit in this crazy, messed up circumstance. He couldn't look at any of them, and he didn't think it would really be wise to talk to Buffy just yet. What would he say to her anyway? So he slowly sat back down and looked up at the ceiling, trying to regain some composure in front of the masses.

"Well, what now?" he was really asking anybody for an answer. "How do we fix this, cause apparently The First is up to something. We all know it now. Like you said, Giles, it's trying to keep an invisible barrier between two of the strongest warriors in this war; two, if I do recall, that share something that can destroy It and It's plans of tyranny. Well, could, before I lost---I remember the prophecy, the final battle, the apocalypse. Angel and myself, fighting on either side of the slayer. You think it's trying to change the prophecy? Well of course it is, trying to get the upperhand like you said, trying to keep control so it has at least a fighting chance to win and take over the world. Should we call Angel in on this, find out if they know anything over there?"

"That might be wise," Giles nodded an affirmation.

"I know, I just can't believe I suggested it. Me, suggesting to bring in Angel, the poufter. Of all things evil." Spike rolled his eyes and huffed.

Xander, who happened to be sitting next to him, slapped him on the back and grinned his lovably goofy grin. "Don't worry, blondie, we've all had our share of repugnance of the mousse prince."

He looked around at the others, still smiling, eyebrows raised. "See, see, I can use big words, too."

Spike sighed and interrupted Xander's moment of pride, "I highly believe he uses hair gel and not mousse and what's your point, nimrod?"

He looked at the vampire, brows furrowed this time. "My point being, it will be easier to deal with Angel with all of us having to deal with him. Get it? Besides, it's not like he's going to have to come to Sunnydale for this. Call him up, ask him what's the haps, see if he can maybe shed some light on the matter."

Everyone sat quietly, waiting for a declaration or decision. The phone rang shrilly, cutting the silence in the room in half and finding everyone on edge as they all noticably jumped at the first ring. Too much tension floating over the house.

"I'll get it," Dawn offered as she hurriedly retrieved the ringing phone. A second later, she was hollering for Giles.

As Dawn and Giles exchanged rooms, Spike spoke to the others without the watcher hovering over them.

"So----any thoughts, suggestions from the peanut gallery? I'm at a loss."

"You really don't love Buffy anymore?" Dawn asked him, quietly. "Do you hate her, want to hate her?"

"No, no, bit. Nothing like that. Just not feeling any warm fuzzies, that's all. I---I just don't remember anything, not a blasted thing that dealt with her and myself. But do I really want to?" He looked at them expectantly.

Willow blushed a bit. "Well, there may be a few things you don't want to know, or want to remember. We might just selectively keep those certain memories out of the fray."

"Yeah, like the sex they were having behind everyone's back and him---"

"Anya, really not the greatest of timing with this." Xander reprimanded his girlfriend.

Willow cleared her throat and continued on. "Do you remember, the night before you went into the hellmouth, what I told you? What Tara warned me about?"

Spike tilted his head, thinking hard. "Something about I wouldn't have to die to save Buffy, that I needed to hold onto my soul and----and my---."

His eyes widened as something clicked in his head. "---and my heart. I was supposed to hold onto my heart."

Spike rolled his eyes, falling forward so that his forehead hit the table with a thud. Megan chuckled to herself though her heart was breaking for the vampire. His actions were a cute attempt at being exasperated, a humanesque attribute. She just wanted to hug him and tell him everything would work out.

"God," Spike groaned, "this is absolutely ridiculous." He rolled his head to the side, his cheek resting on the table so that he was now looking at them watching him. He realized he probably looked silly, not anything like the big bad he always made himself out to be. Oh, well, hell if he cared anymore. Apparently they didn't. Apparently there was more about him to make these humans seem genuine in their affections toward him than he really remembered. They seemed to care about him and his feelings; he could see it in all their faces. Maybe a good night's sleep would refreshen the past for him and his relationship with all of them.

"I've failed---again. I'm such a bleeding wanker." he mumbled, making everyone feel even more sorry for him, wanting to help out anyway they could. "God, this soul really sucks, I feel really bad. Buffy shouldn't have to go through this. Especially if she loves----wait a minute." Spike lifted his head up.

"She's never, ever told me she loves me---has she? I mean, from what I can remember she---but then I wouldn't remember if I had those specific memories taken away." He stood, shaking his head, beginning to pace the floor next to the table. He stopped and looked at the group in front of him, who was eyeing him the whole time.

"Has she ever told any of you? That she loves me I mean," he asked earnestly. Xander, Megan and Anya shook their heads no but Willow and Dawn looked at one another. Spike noticed the exchange instantly.

"Red, Bit? What is it? Has she ever said anything to me or to either one of you? Please?" God, now he was begging but why? It wouldn't change the fact that he wasn't in love with her.

Willow shook her head no as well. "She's never come out and said it, but we've seen things, heard things that makes it a strong possibility. I think she was waiting for the right moment. In fact, the night you didn't show up, when she found you at your place beaten up the following morning, she had been happy, excited, told me she was going to talk to you about something serious when you got back. Her exact words were, "It will be monumental for us both." but she never came out and said it to me and I don't know if she ever did to you. I'm sorry."

He sighed and hung his head. "Doesn't really matter, anyway. I don't rightly know where I was going with this anyway."

"Going where with what?" Giles re-entered the dining room.

"Nothing, just trying my best to make excuses. I think I'm going to go to bed, to my cot in the basement. Get some much needed rest and recuperation. I'll see you all tomorrow."

"Wait, I have some news I'd like to share with you before you do. That was Mr. Caulfield on the phone, a watcher over in England. Well, originally he was in Britain. He was calling from New York. He and Mr. Rogers are here in the states, they have about 15 girls with them, potential slayers, who they've rescued. They are keeping low, in hiding right now. They are being hunted, by the hooded figures you and Buffy have dreamed about. They are trying to make their way to Sunnydale, safety in numbers and they need training. The girls are scared. Caulfield told me he will explain more in detail either when they get here or just before. So, be expecting some houseguests soon."

"Great, what else are we expected to have to deal with in the midst of all this clutter and chaos? Never mind, I really don't want to know. 'Night." Spike sauntered off towards the basement, a black cloud hovering over him the whole way.

Giles turned his gaze upon the others. "Well, I'm guessing we better prepare ourselves for these girls. They won't have a place to stay. I will look into bigger accomodations tomorrow, somewhere close-by. I'm sure from what Caulfield told me, there will be more coming. Seems The First has these girls on their hit list I can only assume. I better fill Buffy in on this. Thank you all for supporting and helping with this unseemly predicament. We'll figure something out. We always do, don't we?"

Everyone smiled and nodded in affirmation, giving Giles a deeper reassurance, before he headed up the stairs to speak to Buffy.

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Later that evening, Dawn lay sprawled out on her bed on her tummy flipping through pages of a notebook. But it wasn't schoolwork she was pilfering through. No, in fact this particular notebook wasn't even hers, though it was at one time. She stopped on a page for no real reason at all and read, feeling only slightly guilty from doing so.
**1 So, we'll go no more a-roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a-roving By the light of the moon.

Dawn turned the page and on the other side, she began to read what was written there as well.
**2 Love and Sleep

Lying asleep between the strokes of night I saw my love lean over my sad bed, Pale as the duskiest lily's leaf or head, Smooth-skinned and dark, with bare throat made to bite, Too wan for blushing and too warm for white, But perfect-coloured without white or red. And her lips opened amourously, and said- I wist not what, saving one word-Delight. And all her face was honey to my mouth, And all her body pasture to mine eyes; The long lithe arms and hotter hands than fire, The quivering flanks, hair smelling of the south, The bright light feet, the splendid supple thighs And glittering eyelids of my soul's desire.

Her face flushed as she swiftly closed the notebook. Okay, now she felt the guilt flooding her. Where did he learn to write stuff like this? She could just about guess he wrote them for Buffy and if he did he wouldn't even remember doing so. So,now, what to do with it. That was the golden question.

TBC

Part 12:

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By the time he could feel the sun peeking over the horizon, he started to drift off. His body, his mind, his soul, could now relax enough to let him catch some z's. He only needed a few hours really, and by the time all was up and bustling around the Summers' house, he would wake as well. Just as long as none of them decided to bloody act out 'The Waltons' and wake up with the rooster's crowing. But if he knew his Bit and even a little of Buffy at all, he knew it would at least be nine or ten a.m. before they stumbled into the kitchen for a morning morsel and cup of joe.

He struggled through the night, forcing himself to remember events, people, places. Most of them were not worth dredging up, of course, especially now that he was burdened with a soul. Those particular ones made him feel dreadful and depressed, and he quickly decided to drive them away from the block as quickly as possible.

Bloody soul. And with that, a bloody conscience. He really wished he could remember what drove him to ask for it back. He contemplated the whole jist of the matter most of the night. His deduction? It must have something to do with Buffy from the lack of insight.

He had to admit, in a way he was glad he had it, now that the chip was no more. In fact, the longer he examined the whole package deal, wasn't so bad. Sitting there on his cot most of the night, he had never felt so warm and secure, even with part of his memories vanquished from his head. He hadn't felt those elements in a very long time. It was always cold and hard after he was turned. These people, the ones who he ran with now, they had accepted him, respected him, cared for him. There was love there, he could feel it bubbling effervescently in the core of his being and it didn't make him feel loathing and disgust.

So, he made up his mind, right before settling down to rest at 5 a.m., just when the birds began their incessant twittering. He would be open-minded about everything, giving himself room to breath, so to say, and to grow. Buffy was a friend, and yes he could see a possibility of something more. Seems they already had a past together, whether it was bollocked up from the get go or what.

He would have a chat with her, alone, just the two of them and discuss his reasonings and his beliefs. Not wanting to chance a loss of the friendship, he would ask her of the same, making it a point that there could be something deeper to develop further on down the road. Time and space, no pressures. He was sure she would be keen on the 'taking everything slow', what with all they had undoubtedly been through together already.

With this decided, he fell into a restful sleep.

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A knock on her bedroom door pulled her attention away from the flickering computer screen.

"Come in."

"Oh, hi. Where's Willow?" Dawn stood in the doorway, clutching a notebook to her chest.

"She had to run out and get some things. Did you need some help?" Meg nodded towards the pad of paper she carried.

"Oh--no, nothing like that. Summer school has been pretty easy. I'm glad I'm taking the makeup courses now instead of during the regular school year. I think I enjoyed it too much last summer when I actually had to go." she giggled.

"Then, you have a question, something I can relay to Wills when she gets back--or is this something private and personal you just----?"

"Oh, I just---well, I guess I have a slight problem. Something I'm not quite sure what to do about."

"Well, she should be back soon. I'll tell her you are looking for her and send her scampering your way." Meg smiled at the girl.

"You see," Dawn looked out into the hallway before quietly shutting the door and walking over to sit on the corner of the bed, closest to the witch. Meg turned in her chair, giving Dawn her full attention.

"----when Spike was gone, looking for Buffy, I kinda---I sorta found this, down in the basement. It was hard just sitting around and waiting, so I decided to do his laundry for him, so when he got back he would have clean clothes, clean sheets, you know?"

"That seems awfully nice of you to do."

"Well, yeah, but I sort of stumbled across something of his. Fell onto the floor when I took the sheets off the cot. I was going to put it back, honest I was. But I picked it up and kept it. Don't know why, really. I thought I would just look through it, no harm, no foul, just glance through it and then put it back before he made it home. He would never know. Thing is I----I still have it." she shied away from her admittance.

"Oh---I see. That is a dilemma. What is it?"

"I think it's his journal, he wrote things in it, poems and little stories. Stuff mostly about Buffy, I believe. If that's the case, he won't remember it, right? Since he was writing about Buffy? And he doesn't remember how he felt about her."

"True, he probably doesn't remember writing anything in it, doesn't mean he won't remember having it, or where he had put it."

Dawn absently started flipping the pages, glancing over each page as she leafed through them. Meg stood and slid to hover over the girl.

"Should you be doing that, reading that I mean? That's personal stuff in there, his private, personal thoughts and feelings. Doesn't seem right to-- --oh. Wait, stop on that page. Hmmm." She plopped down on the bed next to Dawn.

"She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

Lord Byron"

Dawn finished reading the poem and looked up at Megan.

"Wow, that was really beautiful. I remember having to read some of Lord Byron's writings in Lit. class last sememster. He wrote nice poems. Spike must like him. I still feel bad for reading---"

Just then the bedroom door flew open, causing the two girls to jump up off the bed and gasping, Dawn pulling the notebook around behind her, hiding it from the intruder.

"Hey, having a party and I wasn't invited? You two look as if I stumbled in on some secret club meeting or something. I--didn't, did I?"

They both relaxed instantly, sharing a look between each other.

"Okay, something's up. Do I get to know what's so secrety and hidey all of a sudden?"

"It's nothing. I told Meg I found this when doing Spike's laundry," Dawn held up the item out from behind her back, almost reluctantly. "down in the basement, kind of under his pillow, on his cot, downstairs, fell on the floor."

"Oh, okay. And is it yours or someone else's? Possibly Spike's perhaps?" Willow admonished slyly.

"Well, yeah, it was mine, before, but I gave it to Spike a while ago. It's his now, yes."

"So," Willow sat down at the desk and slowly took the pad of paper, "you want to know how to go about getting it back without his knowledge of you having it, right?"

"Yes and---no. Meg and I were thinking that he may not even know about it, remember it, I mean. You know since he doesn't have certain Buffy memories. And if you read some of the stuff in there----."

"I'm not going to read any of his---whoa, Shakespeare. That's some----." Willow's eyes widened a bit.

"Read it, read it." Dawn chanted with eagerness.

"I shouldn't---I don't think, oh, alright.

O my fair warrior!

It gives me wonder great as my content

To see you here before me. O my soul's joy!

If after every tempest come such calms,

May the winds blow till they have wakened death!

And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas

Olympus-high, and duck again as low

As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,

'Twere now to be most happy, for I fear

My soul hath her content so absolute

That not another comfort like to this

Succeeds in unknown fate.

Othello to his love." Willow finished reading and the three of them sat there in silence for a bit. "Shakespeare's good, I enjoy a little Shakespeare. Not too many people get him."

"Yeah, but what do you think? Do you think he was writing that stuff just to write it or---do you think he was thinking of Buffy when he wrote it down?" Dawn asked, her eyes round with wonder.

"Well---could be either really." Meg and Dawn stared at her.

"Okay, okay. It sounds like he was thinking of her, I'll admit it. It's just, well, here, there's another on the back of this page." Willow turned the page slowly, knowing she was looking through something that was sacred to Spike and feeling the guilt swimming around and bouncing off her head. She cleared her throat.

"She's out of my grasp, out of my reach.

She dances in the darkness

Twirling and swirling under the stars

Playing with danger in the face of grace.

Dances in the dark with me,

Yet she belongs to the light,

the blinding yet comforting light.

So far from where I belong.

I am in solitude because

She's out of my reach.

~William E. Winters, III"

"I've never heard of that poet." Megan leaned over to look at the name underneath the poem, written in elegant script.

"No, I don't think you would have. But you know of him." Willow smiled slightly, looking at her girlfriend, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah," Dawn let out a sigh. "Because it's his own. Spike's poem. Or William's, whichever."

"Oh, I see. Now I really feel like we are trespassing on personal property. What should we do?" Meg asked sincerely.

"Somehow, someway, it should be returned to him. I'll give it to Buffy, see what she thinks. Maybe she can decide what to do with it, or how to return it to him."

"I'll come with you, since I'm the one who took it. That way when she yells, you'll be there to cushion the screams." Dawn groaned slightly as Willow rolled her eyes heavenward.

Willow and Dawn headed down the hallway, stopping in front of Buffy's room and knocked lightly on the door. A faint 'come in' drifted to them from the otherside.

Buffy was fully dressed and brushing her hair at her vanity when the girls entered.

"Good morning, Buffy. You look much better today. Sleep well?" Dawn was overly sweet.

"Why yes, dear sister, thank you for asking. Now, what did you do?"

Dawn's mouth dropped open and Willow had to stifle a giggle as she sat on the corner of the bed. She held the notebook up to give to Buffy.

"What's this?" she inquired.

"Dawnie found this, when Spike left to get you in the hellmouth. She was doing laundry and it fell on the floor. It's his, I believe a journal of some sort. Has poems in it, stories and such. Um, they are mostly about--- you, Buffy. In a good way, really. Most of them. We didn't know how to return it to him. Thought that you could come up with an idea. So as not to anger him."

Dawn piped in, "We don't even know if he remembers having it, or writing in it, since you know, they were written for you."

Buffy sat there, book on her lap, looking down at it. "You read some of it?" she looked up at them expectantly. Both nodded.

"And---they were nice things? About me?"

"Buffy, he loved you." Buffy's face betrayed the anguish she was feeling deep inside. "----Oh, I'm sorry. Buffy you know that he loved you, and he can love you again. I just know it. And it can be different, the second time around. Much better for both of you. Buffy, you need to tell him how you feel. Don't keep it all locked up inside. You need to be honest with him." Willow reached over and covered her hands with her own.

"First things first, I need to be honest with myself."

"That's a good first step." Dawn put her two cents in. They all smiled.

"Well, I suppose I will just give it back to him, let him decide what he wants to do with it. Anybody hungry? I hear pancakes calling me."

"Yum, there's a pancake down there with my name on it. Let's go." Dawn jumped and headed for the door as Willow hooked her arm through Buffy's and followed the bubbly teen to the kitchen.

TBC