Spike turned off the radio and glanced at Buffy. "You hungry?" he asked. "There's a diner comin' up."

"Yeah, I could eat," she shrugged. "Do you think it's safe though? Being seen in public with me?"

"Not particularly. You wait in the car and I'll see if they'll do takeout for us."

"Okay," she smiled.

He pulled off the main road and headed towards the small diner named Betty's. When they entered the parking lot, Spike turned off the engine and hopped out. "I'll be right back," he told her.

Buffy waited in the vehicle for Spike to return. Her legs were awfully cramped, considering they had been driving for about five hours now. She played with the thought of stepping out for a minute to stretch her achy limbs. They were in the middle of nowhere--she doubted something horrible would happen in the few moments it took for her to gain back her mobility.

Hoping Spike wouldn't see her, she opened her door and climbed out of his car. The sun was warm in the late afternoon and a light October breeze floated through her hair. She sighed in contentment and stretched out her legs.

Spike thanked the elderly lady at the counter for understanding and paid for the two meals. He had forgotten to ask Buffy what she liked, but hoped that a cheeseburger would be okay. He handed the woman the money and headed back out to the car to wait for their food to be ready.

Only he froze when he saw Buffy standing outside, leaning against his black DeSoto. "Bloody hell," he cursed and jogged out the two double doors. "Buffy!"

Her head shot up. Oops. "H-Hey," she stuttered. "Sorry, but my legs were all crampy. I just wanted to stretch. No one saw me, don't worry."

"How the hell do you know?" he demanded, approaching her. "Anyone could've seen you. Do you even realize how dangerous this is? How bloody insane this?"

"I'm sorry," she frowned. "Jeez, you don't have to get all grouchy on me. I was only out of the car for like, two seconds."

"Fuck, you just don't get it, do you? How can one person be so fucking naive?" Spike noticed her eyes gloss over and he took a moment to calm down. "Look, Buffy. I'm sorry I shouted, but--"

"No, don't even bother," she cut him off. "You're right--I am naive. I put all my hopes into a stupid dream that can never come true. You know why? Because I have nothing else to put my hopes into. You don't think I know how dangerous this is? How crazy this is? I do, and it scares the shit out of me. But what else can we do? What is there left to do?" A tear fell down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it aside. "Look, I'm not forcing you to do any of this for me. And if you want to go back, fine. I'm obviously not worth the trouble."

Spike sighed and brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "You are worth it, Buffy. That's why I'm doing this. But we just have to be more careful, okay? I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

His hand was now resting on her cheek, his thumb wiping away the remnants of her tear. Buffy nodded, raising her own hand to rest atop of his. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning her face into his palm.

"For what?" he asked, smiling softly.

"For caring this much. For caring about me."

He swallowed and tilted his head down, so their lips were barely touching. "Can't help it," he confessed, feeling her body rise to reach his mouth. He complied, and leaned down further to capture her parted lips in a kiss.

Buffy's eyes fluttered closed and she sighed blissfully when his tongue entered her mouth and leisurely stroked her own. She cupped his face in her hands and rose up on her tip-toes, loving the way he tasted on her tongue.

Spike groaned in delight, pushing her against the side of the car. He realized if he didn't stop now he would be lost to her, so with all the willpower he could muster, he ended the kiss. They both gasped for breath, as Buffy tried to pull him back to her.

"We can't," he explained, his heart pounding with anticipation and jeans tightening with unfulfilled passion. "Not now. 'Sides, I can't yell at you for bein' out here in the open, when I'm the one keeping you."

"I guess," she pouted, running her hands down his t-shirt clad chest. "I've just been wanting to do that all day."

A grin broke out across his face and he had to stop himself from kissing her senseless again. "In the car with you," he managed, opening the door. "Our food's almost ready."

Buffy leaned up to give him one last peck on the lips, before disappearing into the vehicle once more.

Spike let out a deep breath and turned to head back inside the diner. But just before he reached the doors, his cell phone rang. He cursed under his breath when he recognized the number.

"Hello?" he answered.

"I just came upon some disappointing news, friend."

He closed his eyes and opened them slowly. "Hey, Willy. I was just about to call you," he lied.

"Vince tells me your pussy-whipped."

"Tell Vince to go fuck himself," Spike growled. "The bastard tried to rape Buffy."

"And?"

"And if I ever see him again, I'm going to rip his balls off."

Willy sighed. "What's the deal here, Tyler? You're not gonna chicken out on me, are you?"

"I can't kill her, mate. I'm sorry."

It was silent for a while, and Spike waited impatiently for Willy to continue. "You there?"

Finally, he answered. "I'm here. I just hope you know what you're doing, pal."

"To be honest, I don't have a sodding clue. I don't know what's gotten into me--Buffy isn't like anyone I've ever met before."

He laughed, almost bitterly. "I'm sure she's a real peach."

"Listen, I'm sorry for screwing you over like this. But I can't kill her. I..." His voice trailed off.

"You love her," Willy finished. "You fell in love with the little bitch." Another laugh and, "Well, I wish you the best of luck, Tyler."

"I don't--" Spike was about to protest, but didn't. To be honest, he had no clue what he felt for her. "Thanks," was all he said.

"Where are you now?"

"Headin' towards Canada, actually."

It was silent again before, "I see. Is this goodbye then?"

"I don't know. I'm sure I'll be back--I can only run for so long."

"Yeah. Well, keep in touch, alright?"

"I will. But before I go..."

"Yeah?"

Spike was about to ask who was behind the kidnapping afterall, but decided he didn't want to know. "Nevermind. Take care, mate."

"You, too."

He turned his phone off and put it back in his pocket. Glancing at the car to make sure Buffy was still safe inside, he walked into the diner to pick up their food.

~~~

It was already nightfall and Buffy was humming idly to herself. Their hands were linked together, as they drove through the starry desert.

"Tired, pet?" Spike wondered, sparing her a quick glance.

"A little. My legs are sore again, though."

"Want to pull over for a bit? There's really no one out here, but us."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Just to play it safe, Spike decided to pull off onto a side road so they were far enough from the main drag, just in case anyone drove by. He turned off the car, and got out to help Buffy to her feet.

"Mmm, feels nice out."

"It is," he replied, looking up at the stars.

She stretched her arms over her head and bent down to touch her toes. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight. Do you want to crash here for a bit to rest up? The closest hotel is still about three hours from here. We're sort of in the middle of nowhere."

Buffy smiled and reached her hand out in front of her. It came in contact with Spike's chest, and she wrapped her fingers around the material of his black shirt, pulling him close to her.

Spike placed his hands on her hips and pressed his lips against her forehead. "Something wrong, pet?" he asked.

She shook her head and rested it against his shoulder. "No," she whispered contentedly. "I just wanted to feel you in my arms."

"I've got you, baby."

They stayed like that for a while, finding peace and reassurance in the other's embrace. A warm breeze filtered through the air like a soft sigh and relaxed their rattled minds.

"I've got a blanket," Spike said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Do you want to lay down?"

Buffy nodded, reluctantly removing herself from the safety of his arms.

Spike walked over to the trunk, pulling out a large, white blanket. He always kept it in there in case of emergencies. Closing the trunk, he walked back over to Buffy, and laid it out at their feet.

"Here," he said, taking her hand and helping her onto the soft blanket.

She kicked off her shoes and settled down, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Are you coming?" she asked, hopefully.

He didn't waste another second before taking his place next to her. They both lay on their backs, their shoulders touching, facing the star-filled sky.

"I wish I could see them," Buffy noted, regret evident in her voice.

"See what?" he wondered, glancing over at her.

"The stars."

Spike smiled sadly, taking her hand in his. "Want me to describe them to you?"

"Could you?"

He nodded and looked heavenward. "There's a little cluster of them over there," he pointed out. "I think they call those the Seven Sisters, or the Pleiades. And then there," he continued, "is Orion's belt. That was always one of my favorites."

"What's it look like?"

"Well... like a belt," he decided.

"Who's Orion?"

"Hell if I know."

She giggled. "Do you see the Big Dipper?"

Spike searched the sky. "Nah. But I see the Little Dipper. It's up there, a bit to your left."

"Is it beautiful?"

"They're all beautiful," he said. "But not as beautiful as you."

Buffy rolled her eyes with a smile. "You're such a corndog," she teased, giving his hand a light squeeze.

"I am, aren't I? It's all your fault, you know. I was content in my women-hating ways before you came along."

"Ah, but you never would have met me if you didn't decide to go all kidnapper and abduct me from the sidewalk."

"Might I remind you, you did come willingly."

"True, but that's only because you made up some cheeseball story."

"You bought it, didn't you?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

He sighed. "Alright, love. Point taken. I'm a bad, rude man and I never should have kidnapped you."

"Would it be totally weird if I said I was glad that you did?"

"Well, I guess we're both weird because I'm glad I did, too."

Buffy smiled and rolled over to snuggle up against his side. "I kinda love you," she whispered into the crook of his shoulder.

Spike stilled. "What?"

She nestled closer to him. "Mmm, just hold me."

He did as asked, and wrapped his arms around the woman beside him. As he did so, his heartbeat picked up--not out of fear or nervousness or uncertainty... but because he knew he loved her, too.

The stars twinkled in the night sky and Spike gazed up at them thoughtfully. Buffy was sound asleep beside him, her head resting peacefully on his shoulder. And to his relief, she had not been disturbed by a nightmare all evening.

With a sigh, he carefully disentangled himself from her and stood up with a stretch. Taking a cigarette out of his pocket, he stepped over to the dormant car and lit up. He leaned against the vehicle and breathed a ring of smoke into the pleasant air, his mind still racing with thoughts of what was to come.

But before he could continue his musings, he heard his name being called from frightened lips. He had only been gone for a moment, but when he glanced at Buffy, she was sitting up, eyes wide with terror.

"Spike? Spike? Where are you?"

"Buffy?" He quickly stubbed out his cigarette and approached the fear-stricken girl. "What's wrong, love?"

"Spike?"

He touched her face. "I'm right here."

"Oh god, Spike, I thought you left. I thought you left me," she confessed, bottom lip trembling. "I got so scared."

"Oh, baby, I would never leave you," he sighed, feeling like a complete git. He never should have left her side. "I'm sorry I made you worry."

She held her arms out to him in invitation and Spike accepted immediately. Buffy buried her face in the crook of his neck and he felt her warm tears on his skin.

"We're not going to make it, are we?" she asked, her voice conveying the dread he felt inside. Yet it contained a sense of certainty--as if she simply knew that this was borrowed time and that the clock was not going to stop. Not for love, not for anything.

Nevertheless, she clutched to him tightly, almost as if trying to overcome fate itself.

Spike swallowed back his own doubts and ran his hand lightly through her soft mane. "Of course we are. We haven't gotten this far for nothing," he told her.

"I don't know. I just have this weird pinching feeling in my stomach. Do you feel it?"

"Like some big disaster is loomin' over us, ready to tear us apart at any second? Yeah," he admitted. "But we'll fight it. I won't let anything happen to you."

She relaxed in his arms. "Good. Because I just found you and I don't want to lose you."

He smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."

Buffy lingered in his embrace for another moment before pulling back slightly.

He noticed something her eyes, something that had always been there but he never understood. It was something hidden and buried and not meant to be noticed. But he couldn't help but wonder what it was--what it was she was keeping from him.

But then her mouth found his, and anything he may have wanted to ask her was eclipsed by the feel of those perfect lips.

You’ll remember me
When the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley

"Spike?" she breathed, fingers tickling the baby hairs on the back of his neck.

He shivered in her arms and pulled her closer to him. "Yeah, love?"

"I don't want this to end," she swallowed, leaning in to kiss him once more.

He opened his mouth to her, groaning when her tongue slipped inside to caress his own.

You’ll forget the sun
In his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

Beauty, he thought, when her arms wrapped around his neck. She tastes like beauty.

Buffy crawled into his lap, tightening her hold on him as she did so. She never wanted to let him go. His arms were safe and warm and when she was in them, she was his. Nothing else mattered.

So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley

They fell back onto the blanket together and Buffy giggled on top of him.

"What's so funny?" he asked curiously, lightly rubbing the exposed skin of her lower back.

"I was just remembering the last time we were in this position," she stated, a mischievous grin on her face.

Spike's mind raced, trying to pinpoint the incident she was referring to. No, that was a dream... hmm, that was a dream, too. Wait! ... Nope, dream. "I give up," he finally said.

"Remember? I sorta had too much to drink. I think I called you my..." She thought for a moment, and then giggled again. "What was it? My pony?"

A grin broke out across his face. "Thought you forgot about that, pet."

"Yep. I conveniently forgot," she smiled. "But now I'm conveniently remembering."

"Minx."

She leaned down to kiss him again and thoughts of past moments together faded, until all that was left was now.

In his arms she fell
As her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Spike rolled them over so she was no longer on top. His lips continued to conquer her and his tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, making her squirm beneath him.

Her hands disappeared underneath his t-shirt, fingernails running along the smooth skin and testing the muscles of his back.

Spike finally pulled away from her mouth. "Buffy?" he wondered, seeing a question in her eyes.

She didn't answer right away. She just continued to run her hands along his back, loving the way the muscles flexed under her touch. "I want you to make love to me," she finally whispered. "Right now. Under the stars."

"Buffy..."

"If it's true," she continued. "If it's true that our time is running out--I want to make the most of it. I want to feel you in my arms. I want to feel you inside me. I want it all, Spike."

Will you stay with me?
Will you be my love?
Among the fields of barley

He swallowed, running a tentative hand along her jawline. "Are you sure?"

Buffy nodded. "I've never felt this way before. I've never felt so real, so alive. You make me feel beautiful."

"You are beautiful."

She smiled. "Hey, you know you're gonna get laid. You don't have to sweet talk me anymore."

Spike frowned at that. "I've never sweet talked you for sex."

"Suuure," she said.

"I'm serious."

"Uh-huh. So then you probably won't mind if I just... you know, find something else to do..." she teased, slipping out from under him.

He quickly stopped her and attacked her throat with his lips. She squeaked in surprise when his tongue ran up along her neck, all the way to her ear. "This is just a bonus," he whispered, sending a thousand and one tingles through her body.

We’ll forget the sun
In his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

Buffy wrapped her arms around him, bringing him as close to her as possible. He continued to lick and nibble his way down her neck and she gasped when he pressed his erection against the juncture between her legs.

Her hands made their way under his t-shirt again and he stopped what he was doing for a moment to pull the offending material over his head.

"God, you make me crazy," he murmured, tossing the shirt aside and running his hands up along her soft body.

She mewled under the feel of his strong hands as he caressed her hips, stomach, breasts and face. His touches were passionate, yet kind and it felt as if her entire being was on fire. Swallowing, she rose her hands to unbutton her shirt. Only they were shaking so much, she couldn't seem to get them undone.

"It's okay, love," Spike soothed, taking her fidgety hands in his own. "We've got all night."

"I-I'm just a little nervous," she admitted, as their fingers entwined.

See the west wind move
Like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley

He smiled down at her and kissed her softly on the mouth. It was only meant to be short and sweet, but she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him there. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting and tempting, making her head spin and a surge of moisture pool between her legs.

Feel her body rise
When you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold

They finally pulled apart to breathe and Spike undid her front buttons with ease, sliding the material over her arms and discarding it to where his own shirt lay. He descended up on her, flesh to flesh, and leaned down to take her breast into his mouth.

Buffy gasped as his tongue raked over a rosy nipple and she sifted her hands through his blonde curls. "Feels so good," she whimpered, as he moved his ministrations to her other breast. She wrapped her legs around his waist, gyrating her heat against his hard cock.

"Mmm, god," he moaned, sucking harder on her nipple and lowering his hands to unbutton her pants. She lifted her hips off the ground for him as he slid the jeans down her legs and over her feet. As soon as they were off, she opened her arms to him once more and he immediately returned to the warmth of her embrace.

I never made promises lightly

Spike made a trail of light kisses all the way down her stomach, stopping at her belly button to delve his tongue inside.

Buffy giggled and squirmed beneath him. "That tickles," she said, whacking him gently on the side of the head.

"Yeah? My baby's ticklish?"

She nodded and Spike grinned, his hands suddenly dancing across her exposed body. She squealed and laughed as he tickled her sides and armpits, defenseless under the attack.

But then she froze as one of his hands disappeared into her panties and roughly cupped her mound. "Oh god," she breathed, arching up into his touch. Her juices spilled onto his hand as he stroked her pussy, invoking tiny mewls from the back of her throat.

"You like that?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

She swallowed hard and nodded her head, gasping as he inserted a long finger inside of her. "Please," she begged, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Tell me what you want," he told her, pumping his finger in and out of her. His cock pulsed in the confinements of his pants, desperate to hear her words.

"I... I..." her voice squeaked, trying to make sentences. But the sensations were too much and she clutched onto his arms as his thumb brushed against her clit. "Make love to me, Spike," she finally blurt out. "Please."

He groaned and immediately began to undo his belt with a shaking hand.

And there have been some that I’ve broken

Buffy heard his zipper unzip and the reality of what was happening finally struck her. She was going to have sex with a man who had kidnapped her. A man who threatened to kill her.

A man she couldn't even see.

But somehow none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was the way he made her feel and how happy she was when he was in her arms.

She felt him lean over her once more and a soft sigh escaped her lips.

"You're sure?" he asked, kissing her lightly on the nose.

She spread her legs for him, giving him the invitation he so desperately needed. "I'm sure."

Spike swallowed and positioned himself at her entrance, feeling her wetness envelop him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him inside of her. That was all the encouragement he needed and he entered her slowly, sheathing himself in her willing body.

But I swear in the days still left
We will walk in fields of gold

There was a slight pain as he filled her, considering the fact that she had only been with one other man and that was a long time ago. Not to mention the fact that Spike was a lot bigger than Riley had been. But the pleasure far outweighed the pain and just penetration was enough for a small orgasm to wash over her.

Spike groaned when he felt her walls flutter around his cock, and it took all of his willpower to keep from going over the edge. It had been years since he'd been with a woman, and he never found one that touched him as much as Buffy did.

Giving himself a moment to calm down, he finally began to move inside her.

Buffy held onto his arms, as he pushed in and out of her with leisurely strokes. She rose her head a little in an attempt to capture his lips, and Spike accepted, crashing his mouth against hers. She met him thrust for thrust, wrapping her legs around him more securely and breathing his life into her. She loved the way he kissed her--such passion and simplicity all in one. His kisses were like oxygen.

"God, Buffy, you're so perfect," he whispered in her ear, nibbling on the sensitive lobe.

No, I'm not, she thought, but decided that right now he could think whatever he wanted.

His pace quickened, as he showered wet kisses down her slender neck. She moaned and scratched her nails lightly down his smooth back, enticing a hiss from him.

"Do that again," he panted, sighing when she scratched him once more, this time a little bit harder. He then reached down to where their bodies connected and pinched her clit, loving the blissful sounds she made. He could feel her body tensing, on the verge of release and he continued to touch and tease the small bundle of nerves.

"Yes," she gasped as her body began to quake. She arched up into him, holding him to her with all her might. She shook in his arms as her second climax washed over her.

Spike buried his face in her neck, as her internal muscles clenched around his cock. "God.. so bloody good..." he groaned. He gathered her close and trembled as his own orgasm came upon him. He whispered words of adoration into her ear, and sighed when she ran her hands lovingly through his mussed hair.

We will walk in fields of gold

When the shocks subsided, he raised his head and looked into her eyes. They were so green--so lovely. Had he ever told her?

"What are you thinking?" she wondered, outlining his jaw with a small finger.

He swallowed. "Just that you have the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen."

She blushed, despite herself. "Thank you."

Spike sighed and collapsed beside her, regretting the feel of slipping from her warmth. He'd be buried inside of her forever if he could be. She curled up beside him and he pulled the blanket up around their naked bodies, wrapping his arms around his girl.

"That was wonderful," she told him, kissing him on the shoulder.

"Mmm. You were wonderful."

"Suck up."

He grinned and kissed the top of her head. Suddenly, something came to his mind and he had no idea why it was important, but he said it anyway. "I got you the cookies," he told her.

Buffy frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Remember? You wanted chocolate chip cookies. I told you I didn't buy them, but I did. And... I thought you should know."

She couldn't help but laugh as she snuggled closer to him. "Thanks. Now I can sleep easier."

He laughed along with her. "I'm glad, love."

"Mmm, can we stay like this forever?" she wondered.

Spike smiled as he stared up at the stars, wanting more than anything to make her wish come true. "Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want."

Buffy nestled closer to her lover as the golden sun bathed her body in its warmth. She pulled the blanket up over herself more securely and breathed in deeply of the dry desert air. Morning had cast itself upon them, successfully destroying her ideal that the night would last forever.

She sighed and placed her hand upon Spike's chest, traveling her fingers lightly down the exposed flesh. She could feel the small scars beneath her touch and she cringed inwardly at the torment he must have suffered. "God, what did she do to you..." she whispered sadly, hoping that his poor excuse for a mother was paying for what she did to him all those years ago.

Spike stirred beside her, his eyes finally fluttering open. "Buffy?" he asked groggily, throwing an arm over his eyes to block the harsh light of day. "You're awake?"

"I have been for a while now," she told him, placing a small kiss on his chest. "I didn't want to wake you."

He only then realized that sun equaled morning and morning equaled bad. "Bloody hell, we have to go," he said, now fully awake. "You should have woken me up."

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal," she shrugged.

"Not a big deal? We're layin' out here in broad daylight! Anything could have happened."

She frowned. "Well, it didn't. We're fine."

"That's beside the point. Hurry up and get dressed. We have to go."

Buffy felt her clothes being tossed at her and tears welled up in her eyes. This wasn't exactly how she imagined their 'morning after'.

As Spike zipped his jeans back up, he noticed that she was just sitting there. "Now we be a good time," he chided and pulled his shirt over his head.

The anger bubbled within her and she jumped up from under the blanket. "You're such a jerk," she exclaimed, roughly pulling her pants up to her waist.

He watched as she finished dressing and then faced away from him, arms crossed over her chest. He sighed. "I don't mean to be harsh, pet. I'm just... on edge. We stayed here too long."

"Whatever," she grumbled, refusing to turn around.

Taking a deep breath, Spike approached her. "Hey, now. I'm sorry I shouted. Don't be like this, Buffy."

She finally faced him, mouth agape. "Me?!" she demanded incredulously. "You're the one who yells at me and throws my clothes in my face. How else am I supposed to be?"

"I'm sorry, baby," he apologized, noticing the glossy tears in those eyes he loved so much. He extended a hand to cup her cheek. She flinched, but didn't pull away. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. But like I said, I'm just scared for us. We took a huge risking sleeping here all night."

"I don't recall much sleeping," she said softly.

He smiled. "No, I guess you're right."

"Do you regret what happened, Spike?"

"Not a second of it."

She noted the lack of hesitation in his voice and couldn't help but smile back. "Me either."

He gently wiped away a stray tear with his thumb and leaned in to kiss her parted lips.

Buffy rose up to meet the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, dipping her tongue inside to taste him. Spike groaned and held her closer, feeling his passion for her growing as their tongues dueled. But he knew that things would go too far if he let them, so he reluctantly pulled back from her tempting mouth.

"Can't we stay a little longer?" she asked hopefully, playing with his soft strands of hair. "A half an hour. At the most."

He shook his head. "We can't, love. It's too dangerous."

"But I want you," she murmured, rubbing herself against his growing erection.

He grit his teeth together in an attempt to control his hormones. "There will be plenty of time for that later," he finally told her. "But right now, we have to go."

Buffy sighed, but pulled away from him in defeat. "Fine," she relented.

Spike kissed her softly on the top of the head before gathering up the blanket and stray articles of clothing, and dumping them into the back of his car. He then took Buffy by the hand and led her to the vehicle, helping her inside. Only a few more minutes went by and they were on the road once again.

"Are you hungry?" he wondered, as they took off down the barren dirt road. "I'm sure there's some place to eat around here."

"Not really. Maybe later."

He nodded, taking out a cigarette and lighting up.

Buffy rolled down her window and leaned back in her seat, letting the warm breeze wash over her face. She was about to close her eyes when Spike's voice broke the silence.

"Are you happy with me?"

Her head shot up. "What kind of question is that?" she demanded.

"An honest one."

"Spike, of course I'm happy with you. I'm risking everything for you."

"I don't know, love," he shook his head. "You just get this look in your eyes. I can't tell what it is, but... it's like you're keeping something from me."

She turned her head away from him, her expression saddening.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Of course not," she dismissed. "What could I possibly have to hide?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about, Spike."

"Don't I?"

"You don't..."

He glanced at her. "Whatever you say, Buffy."

She crossed her arms defensively, but finally said, "It has nothing to do with you."

That's all he needed to know. Whatever it was could wait until she was ready to tell him.

~~~

The mood had lightened considerably as the hours past. Buffy was singing some crazy banana song to herself and Spike had to refrain from jumping out of the car. Still, he couldn't help but laugh at her off-key voice and the giddy bouncing in her seat.

"Easily amused, love?"

She nodded. "Oh, yeah. Are we almost there?"

The sun was still shining brightly overhead--they had only been driving for a few hours. "Soon, baby. We'll be there soon."

She shrugged and went back to serenading him.

Spike looked in the rear-view mirror and sighed at the car that had been following them for quite a while. He supposed it would be naive of him to think they would be alone the entire trip, but he couldn't help but hope nonetheless. He had purposely refrained from taking any major roads or expressways in order to stay hidden. It may take them longer to get there, but in the end he knew it would be worth it.

Deciding he wanted to lose the car, even though it was probably just a harmless traveler, he pulled off to the side of the road. He held his breath and watched, only letting it out when the car whizzed past them. Thank god.

"What's going on?" Buffy wondered.

"Nothing," he said. "Just makin' sure no one was following us is all."

"And that would be a no?"

"That would be a no."

She sighed in relief. "You scared me there for a sec."

"Didn't mean to. Just wanted to be sure."

Spike shifted back into drive and took off once more. The car had disappeared from sight.

"So, why are you British?" Buffy suddenly asked.

"Born in England. Moved when I was three. But my whole family kept the accent and it stuck with me, I guess."

"I think it's sexy."

He grinned. "I'm glad, love."

"What made you change your name to Spike?"

"I... wanted to get away from my past. And the name 'William' just brought back too many painful memories. As for the name itself, I just thought it was... well, neat," he laughed.

She smiled and placed her hand on his thigh. "I wish I could see you," she said.

"Yeah, me too," he replied. "But would it shatter the image you've already established of me?"

"I haven't really established an image. You just... are. I picture this faceless guy with platinum hair and a wicked cool leather coat."

He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. "Maybe someday," he told her. "Maybe someday you'll get your wish."

"It's nice to dream. Especially since that's all I really have. But honestly, I'm not holding out much hope. The doctors said the damage was permanent."

"You never know, pet. Life's full of surprises."

"Yeah," she nodded. "It is."

Spike continued to hold her small hand in his, as they drove forward to their future.

~~~

Angel O'Neil always considered himself an honest man. It was the one thing about himself that he took pride in.

So, that's why he was standing at the entryway to Sheriff Brinkman's office.

He had kept Buffy's secret to himself longer than he could. It was eating away at him. Part of him felt ridiculous for even taking her back to that monster, but she sounded so determined--so sure. It had been a long while since he'd seen Buffy happy and something made her think that Spike was the person who could give her that happiness. And Angel believed her.

But that was then. He had been thinking a lot about it and reading a lot of books--there was only one logical explanation to all of this: Buffy had been brainwashed.

And he took her back to him.

Just thinking about it made his stomach turn. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known Buffy wasn't herself. And because of his failure as a friend, as an intelligent human being--Buffy could be in danger.

If she wasn't already dead, that is.

So, this is why he needed to come clean. If there was a chance he could still save her, then he would do whatever he could to accomplish that. Buffy was everything to him.

Sheriff Brinkman looked up from his desk when the door opened. "Mr. O'Neil," he noted, taking off his glasses. "To what do I owe this unexpected surprise?"

Angel swallowed. "I know where Buffy Summers is."

The sheriff was silent for a moment, taking in the younger man's confession. Then he nodded and gestured towards a chair. "Have a seat, Mr. O'Neil," he said. "We have a lot to talk about..."

Buffy sat in his lap, kissing him feverishly as the gas pumped on the other side of the door. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her as close as she could possibly get. Their tongues danced desperately with one another and Spike could feel himself growing harder by the minute.

"Ow," she suddenly squeaked.

He tried to catch his breath, as they pulled apart. "What's wrong?" he panted.

"Steering wheels are not exactly comfy back rests. Can we go some place more private?"

Her eyes danced with mischief and he tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "As much as I'd love to, we're only a few hours away. We should really wait."

"God, I can't wait," she pouted, rocking back and forth on his erection. He grasped her hips and groaned. "I want you so much."

"Me too, baby." He pulled her face back to his, but before the makeout session could continue, the gas meter clicked. He sighed and Buffy reluctantly rolled off of him and settled back into her seat. "Be right back," he told her.

Spike climbed back into the car after he paid for the gas and took a deep breath before starting the engine.

"We're really almost there?" she wondered.

"Almost."

As he pulled out of the parking lot and took off down the road, something in his rear-view mirror caught his eye. "Shit," he muttered, his blood running cold.

Buffy's heart began to pound faster in her chest. There was no mistaking the fear in his voice. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," he quickly said, not wanting to scare her.

"Spike, tell me. I know it's something."

He glanced in the mirror once more and swallowed. "That car," he told her. "It's back."

"What? The one you said you lost hours ago?"

"Yes."

"I-I'm sure it's nothing," she tried to assure him--along with herself. Truth was, she was scared out of her mind. Who could it be?

"I don't know, Buffy. I have a bad feeling."

"Stop it. It's nothing. I-It's probably just a different car."

It was a dark blue Sedan and it was slowly trailing behind them, much like it was doing before. Spike wanted to believe her, he really did. But their dream of a better life--of escaping reality--was just that. A dream. Something like this was bound to happen. "Should I pull over?" he asked, sparing her a quick glance.

She was sitting upright in her seat and her hands were slightly shaking in her lap. "No! Just... keep going. We'll lose them eventually."

Spike sighed and gripped the wheel tighter. "Alright."

"It's going to be okay, right?"

"Of course it is, pet," he nodded, not believing himself for a second. "Of course it is."

~~~

"Time to rally the troops, boys," Sheriff Brinkman declared, alerting the other officers of the news Angel had just told him. "We're bringing her home."

Officers quickly suited up and piled into their vehicles.

Angel continued to stand in the sheriff's office, hoping he made the right decision. "Are you going to contact her parents?" he asked, as Sheriff Brinkman entered the room.

"Yes," he answered, picking up the phone to dial Mr. and Mrs. Summers. He noted Angel's wary stance and regarded him. "You made the right choice, son."

"Buffy will be okay, right?"

"I promise to do everything in my power to make sure of that."

Angel had failed to mention the fact that he had known where Buffy was for the past few days. He knew that withholding evidence was a crime, so he made up a story about the encounter going down earlier that day. The sheriff seemed to believe him.

Sheriff Brinkman dialed the number with ease. "Hello, Joyce," he greeted, when she picked up the phone. "I just came across some delightful news... yes, yes... uh-huh..." He smiled. "Yes. We found her."

~~~

"Oh god." Buffy wrung her hands together nervously. "We haven't lost them yet?"

Spike didn't have to look in the mirror to know that the Sedan was still behind them. Another hour had gone by and the mysterious car still trailed a few hundred yards behind his black DeSoto. "Not yet," he told her, truthfully. "I think we should pull over, Buffy."

"No! No, please. It could be anybody."

"I can't drive like. I'm goin' out of my bleeding mind!"

"So am I!" she exclaimed. "But we have to lose them eventually, right?"

"Not necessarily. If this bugger is followin' us, there's no tellin' what will happen."

Her bottom lip trembled. "I'm so scared, Spike."

His heart broke for her--for them. "Don't be scared, love," he soothed, taking her hand in his.

"I should have known this would never work. God, I'm such a fool..."

"Listen to me," he said, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at her. "I am not going to lose you. You hear me?"

She nodded mutely.

"Good. Because I'm pulling over."

"Oh, my god, no!" she cried. "Spike, don't!"

He didn't listen to her, because he knew he had to pull over. He had to know once and for all if this person was following them or if it was a false alarm. Giving her hand a light squeeze, he slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road.

And to his horror, the car slowed down as well.

"Bloody hell," he cursed under his breath.

Buffy was a mess. "Oh god. Oh, my god."

He hit the steering wheel as hard as he could and ran his hands over his face. "This is not fucking happening."

"Spike, go! Just drive!"

He looked in the mirror to see the car park about two hundred feet behind them. "I-I can't, Buffy. I need to know who it is."

"Please! I don't care! Let's just go--let's just get out of here!" she pleaded, desperation lacing her words.

"No."

She ran her hands through her hair roughly, taking deep, labored breaths. Her heart was racing like never before and she rocked back and forth in her seat, praying silently to whoever was listening.

"Stay here," he told her. "I'm going to find out who this fucker is."

"Don't go, Spike. Please don't go." Tear drops started to fall at the thought of losing him.

"I'll be fine," he tried to comfort her.

"You could be killed!"

He leaned over the seat, grabbed her head in his hands, and kissed her hard on the mouth, savoring the feel of those sweet lips. "I love you," he told her. "And I'll be right back."

Buffy didn't say anything. She couldn't. Eyes wide with fear, she listened as he got out of the vehicle.

Spike would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified. Because he was. But he ignored the fear that dwelled deep in his bones and stepped out of his car, shutting the door behind him.

The Sedan's windows were tinted and he was unable to see who was behind the wheel. Taking a few cautious steps forward, he stopped about halfway between the two cars. It was their turn to make the next move.

And they did. Spike watched as the driver's door opened and a man stepped out. A short, very familiar man...

Relief washed over him. "Bloody hell. You scared the fuck out of me!" he sighed, stepping over to the approaching figure.

Willy smiled. "Not my intentions, old friend. So, where is she?"

Spike ignored his question. "What the hell are you doing? Why are you following us?"

The dark-haired man looked over Spike's shoulder towards his car. "She in there?"

"What's this all about?" his eyes narrowed.

"What's this all about?" Willy repeated. "Oh, nothing, really. Just needed to take care of some unfinished business."

"Which would be?"

He sighed. "Get the little bitch out here. We need to have a chat, her and I."

"Like hell." The relief he felt soon dissipated, because he knew this was far from over. This was only just beginning. "What do you want with Buffy?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself, Tyler."

Spike's jaw clenched. "She's stayin' in the car, mate. This is between you and me."

"See, that's where you're wrong, mate. This is between me and your new girlfriend."

"I don't understand."

But before he could question Willy's motives anymore, he heard a car door slam behind him. He whirled around to see Buffy standing there. "Buffy! Get back in the fucking car!" he shouted.

She noted where his voice was coming from and ran over to his side as fast as she could, latching onto his arm. "No," she said.

"Well, well," Willy smirked, looking the blonde girl up and down. "We were just talkin' about you, sugar. Glad you could make it."

"Spike, what's going on? Who is this?"

"Willy, cut the goddamn cryptic. What's this all about?" His arm wrapped around Buffy's waist possessively.

"You mean, you don't know?" he snorted. "Still haven't figured it out? I always thought you were smarter than this, Tyler."

"Out with it," he ordered through gritted teeth.

Willy smiled and focused his gaze on Buffy. "You remember me, don't you, Summers? Willy Thompson?"

Buffy swallowed. The name was familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it...

"You don't have to answer him, pet," Spike interrupted.

"Oh, c'mon, baby. That name has got to ring a bell." He paused for a moment then, his eyes darkening. "Or maybe Staci Newman. Does that ring a fucking bell? Huh?"

It felt as if she had been punched in the stomach, as all the memories came rushing back. "I... oh, god," she managed to choke out.

Spike frowned, but Willy cut him off before he could intercede.

"You remember Staci, don't you, Tyler?" The jovial look on his face was gone and only fury was evident in his eyes.

"Of course. She was your girlfriend."

"Uh-huh. And what exactly happened to my beloved Staci?"

Spike swallowed. "She... died."

"You gotta refresh my memory here, pal," he continued, scratching his head. "When did she die?"

"About three years ago."

"How?"

"A car accident. With... a drunk..." A lightbulb finally went off in his head and his mouth went dry. Oh, no. Please, no. "... driver."

He turned to Buffy. It couldn't be. She told him they hit a tree.

Buffy stood there, perfectly still as the guilt coursed through her.

"Buffy? It's not true, is it? Tell me it's not true."

"It's all my fault. I just wanted it to go away. I just wanted to forget. To forget what I did.

God, I must have ruined his life."

Spike knew it was true. And somehow, it finally made sense. But he turned to Willy, his voice low and solemn. "It's not Buffy's fault. She wasn't even the one driving. Why go to all this trouble?"

Willy arched a brow. "Is that what she told you?" he laughed bitterly. "That's rich."

The second blow hit him harder than the first one. "You have got to be kidding me..."

"I'm so sorry," Buffy finally spoke, her voice meek and timid. "I'm sorry I lied."

"You killed his fucking girlfriend. God!" He wanted to shake her as hard as he could. He wanted to demand her to tell him everything--why she lied, what else she was hiding from him.

The tears slid down her face. "I'm so sorry," she whispered again.

"It's a little late for that, princess," Willy bit out.

And took a gun out of his jacket pocket.

Spike jumped back as if slapped when the shiny metal suddenly appeared in the shorter man's hand. "Buffy, get in the car. Now."

"What? Why--"

"Now!"

"Not so fast, you murderous, little bitch." He aimed the gun right at her. "You think you can get away with what you did? God. Six months of fucking community service because your daddy is a rich motherfucker. How is that fair? Huh?!"

Buffy cowered under the verbal attack.

Spike tried to push her towards the car, but Willy's blaring voice interrupted his actions.

"Take another step and I'll blow her goddamn brains out. Don't test me, Tyler. I swear to God I'll do it."

They both froze.

"So, this is what we're gonna do. You, friend, are going to get back in that piece of shit car of yours and drive far, far away. Got it?"

"I'm not leaving Buffy's side. I'm sorry for what happened, but this isn't the way. You don't need to do this."

"Oh, I really think I do."

"You're not touching this girl," he warned. "I won't let you."

Willy smiled. "Well, then I guess I'll just have to kill, too."

Buffy's heart practically stopped in her chest. "No!"

"See you around, Tyler."

The pistol cocked and she acted on pure instinct.

And when the shot rang out, Buffy and Spike both hit the ground.

"We'll be fine," he told her, hopping into the driver's seat and closing the door. "I'm a professional." Riley kept trying to press a foreign object into the ignition, with no prevail. "Stupid key!"

She tried to swerve, but it was too late. The cars collided with a sickening crunch and a scream tore from her lips...

"Buffy!"

Willy didn't spare the couple another glance before making a mad dash to his car and taking off, tires screeching as he went.

Spike didn't notice. All he saw was her. And the red stain in the middle of her shirt.

"Oh, baby," he cried, placing his hands over her chest to stop the blood.

Her eyes fluttered open. "I... I think I'm hurt," she said weakly.

The bile rose to his throat as he stared down at the fragile girl in his arms. His eyes darted to the main road, desperate for someone to see them and stop. "Somebody help!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. But all that replied was a gentle wind. Not knowing what else to do, he fumbled through his pocket for his cell phone. His hands were shaking, as his blood-stained fingers dialed the three numbers. A woman picked up and he immediately started talking. "Sh-she got shot... no, yes, I don't know... please, hurry... yes..." He didn't even hear himself speak as he spouted off the information the woman needed. He vaguely recalled her saying that an ambulance would be there soon, but he didn't reply. His cell phone dropped to the ground and he rushed back over to the sobbing girl.

"It's hurts, Spike. It hurts so much," she cried, tears streaming down her face.

"Shh, baby. Don't cry. You're going to be just fine." He continued to put pressure on her wound, his eyes never leaving her pale face. It was as if the life was leaving her small body with every breath she took. Fear clutched him to the bone and he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "Don't cry," he soothed.

Buffy swallowed, her eyes getting heavier by the minute. "I-I'm so sorry, Spike. I'm sorry I lied to you. Please... please forgive me. I can't go without knowing you forgive me..."

"You're not going anywhere!" he said, panic lacing his words. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter anymore."

Her breathing was shallow as she spoke. "You... you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you. I love you."

She gave him a watery smile, as her eyes began to slowly close. "I... I..."

"You what? Buffy, stay with me. Buffy!"

She coughed, spitting up blood. Spike's heart was racing, his eyes wide with dread. He pressed harder on her chest, wishing the blood would just stop. She was so small--how could there be so much blood?

"Spike, I..."

"Shh. Don't try to talk, love. You're going to get to a hospital and be just fine. You hear me? You'll be okay, Buffy."

Sirens sounded in the distance and Spike looked up expectantly. Thank god.

But when he looked back down, her eyes were closed and she was still.

"Buffy?" he choked out. He shook her gently by the shoulders, willing her to open her beautiful green eyes and tell him it was just a joke. "Stay with me, baby. Stay with me!"

She coughed and Spike let out a sigh of relief, wiping the blood from her lips with his finger.

The ambulance was in sight now, racing down the narrow road, sirens blaring. It came to a halt in front of them and men in uniform immediately rushed to their side.

"Is she conscious?" one man asked as he approached.

"O-Off and on. She'll be okay, right?"

The men ignored him and lifted her onto a stretcher.

Spike followed them to the ambulance. "I'm comin' with you," he told them.

"I'm sorry, sir. But you're welcome to follow."

"But I need to be with her. I need to--"

The doors slammed in his face and the ambulance took off.

"Fuck!" he cursed.

Not letting another minute pass, he raced to his car and turned on the engine. Seconds later, he was gunning it down the road, trailing the ambulance closely. Buffy's going to be alright, was the only thought in his mind. She has to be...

~~~

"Check every room. Every closet. Every fucking nook and cranny. We're gonna tear this place up until we find her," Sheriff Brinkman ordered, opening the door to the rundown hotel.

It looked to be deserted. There was a half-eaten pizza sitting at the front desk, as flies buzzed around it. The creaking floorboards was the only sound that permeated the air.

"Up here." The sheriff pointed to a staircase and the men followed him up. Doors were kicked down left and right, as the officers scoped out every single room. Most of them looked as if they had never been stepped foot in, let alone lived in.

"There's no one here, boss," Officer Connelly noted, as the sheriff approached Room 242.

He didn't have to kick hard--the door fell down without an effort.

"Think we found something!" Sheriff Brinkman shouted, stepping over the threshold.

Unlike the other dozens of rooms they checked, this one had definitely been lived in. The bed was unmade, clothes were scattered across the floor, and the garbage can was filled high with various food wrappers and other items.

"Buffy Summers?"

There was no reply. Six different officers cautiously held out their guns as they opened doors and entered the bathroom. But they found nothing.

"Are you sure she was here? Are you sure O'Neil was telling the truth?"

Sheriff Brinkman nodded to one of his men. "I believe him. Buffy was here."

"Hey, check it out!"

Everyone turned to the voice and stared at the black metal in the drawer. A gun rested atop stacks of paper.

"Buffy Summers was definitely here," the sheriff concluded. "Now we just have to figure out where she is now." He picked the weapon up with a cloth and dropped it into a bag. "And," he sighed. "If she's still alive."

~~~

It had been a long while since Spike stepped foot in a hospital. Just the smell of it made him sick. But he quelled the nausea that swept through him and concentrated on finding Buffy and making sure she was okay. A truck had cut in front of him, making him momentarily lose track of the ambulance.

But he eventually found the small hospital and was intent upon seeing Buffy immediately. He approached the front desk, frantic. "A girl... a small blonde. She was just brought in," he explained to the woman at the front desk.

"Gunshot wound to the chest?"

"That's her," he nodded.

"Yes, she's in surgery now."

"I-I need to see her."

"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't see her right now."

Spike swallowed. "When? When can I see her?"

"Not until she's stable. The doctors will do all they can to make sure she pulls through. Now, if you don't mind filling out some forms, we'll alert you as soon as the doctor deems ready."

He took the clipboard with a shaking hand. The woman seemed to finally notice the blood he was covered in and gasped.

"Are you hurt, sir?" she wondered, standing in her seat.

"It's not mine," he said softly and stepped away from the desk. He sat down in the waiting room and glanced at the form. The first question asked for the patient's name.

Buffy Summers. The girl who was kidnapped three weeks ago and is probably presumed dead. And I'm Spike, by the way. You know, the guy who kidnapped her.

He sighed and set the clipboard on the chair next to him, leaning his head back against the seat.

It seemed as if hours had gone by when he finally opened his eyes. He glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that hours had indeed gone by. He must have fallen asleep.

Sitting up, he glanced around the waiting room. He was the only one there. The form still lay beside him, untouched, and artificial light enveloped the small room. The sun had already gone down.

"Sir?"

Spike's head shot up and he stood immediately, coming face to face with an elderly doctor. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he said, holding out his hand in greeting.

"Oh, uh... William. My name's William."

"Doctor Morris," he replied. "And your friend's name?"

"B--" He caught himself. "Betty."

The doctor nodded. "Mind if we have a seat?"

Spike's heartbeat increased as the two sat down. "She's okay, right?"

"She's... stable," Doctor Morris explained.

"Oh, thank god. I was so bloody worried. Is she awake? Can I see her?"

He smiled at him--almost sadly. "You're welcome to see Betty. But first, there's something I need to tell you."

"Can't it wait? I'd really like to see her now..."

He began to stand, but the doctor stopped him. "This can't wait."

Spike frowned and sat back down. "What... what is it?"

"Breaking this kind of news is never easy, and I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you..."

His stomach dropped. "Tell me what?" he choked out.

Doctor Morris placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and sighed. "I'm sorry, but your friend isn't going to make it."

Spike's heart stopped. Well, that's what it felt like anyway. It was as if all the air left his lungs and his entire being shut down. Buffy was... she was... No, it can't be.

He swallowed and looked up at the doctor with glossy eyes. "What are you saying? I thought--"

"I'm sorry. The internal damage she suffered was far too great and there's nothing we can do for her."

"There has to be! You're telling me she's going to die?"

The doctor gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I'm very sorry."

Spike ran his hands over his face, his world collapsing down around him. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. They should be in Canada right now. They should be wrapped up in each other's arms, fulfilling dreams and making new ones.

But Buffy was dying. And all those dreams and promises were suddenly ripped away, along with the woman he loved.

A voice could be heard in the distance, bringing Spike back to reality.

"I know this is difficult to process," Doctor Morris continued. "I wish there was something more we could do for her."

"How much--how much time... ?"

"Not much. A few hours, maybe."

Nausea swept over him and he leaned over, retching bile from his throat. He eventually stood back up on wobbly legs, sweat marring his brow. "I need to see her," he said softly, holding onto a chair for support.

"Of course," the doctor nodded. "Right this way."

He followed the older man down the hall, passing up rooms on either side. Babies cried, televisions blared, people coughed.

Spike didn't notice.

Soon, they approached Room 627. It was a small space with white walls and nothing but a bed and a television--a typical hospital room. Nothing special at all. Except for the girl who dwelled inside of it.

"I'll leave you two alone. If anything changes, let me know," Doctor Morris concluded, before shutting the door and leaving them be.

Spike stood there for longer than necessary, just staring at the fragile body beneath the sheets. She wasn't hooked up to any devices or IVs or anything else you would think a dying girl would be hooked up to. Didn't they care? Couldn't they at least try? She looked peaceful though. Her face was pale and lips were chapped, but a ghost of a smile graced her features. He wondered what it was like to know you're going to die. Was it scary? Confusing? Freeing? Did she even know?

Shaking the thoughts from his addled brain, he slowly approached her bedside, taking a few cautious steps at a time. His eyes never left her face as he moved, afraid that he would miss the slightest change in position. Her eyes remained closed, but he knew she was alive--the soft rising and falling of her chest gave way to that. He wondered if she sensed his presence at all. And despite his desire to scoop her up and hold her close, he didn't want to disturb her.

So when he finally reached her side, he just stood there. He didn't touch her, didn't kiss her or hold her. He just watched her sleep--and silently prayed that she would eventually wake up so he could see her beautiful, green eyes one last time.

~~~

An hour had passed and still Spike stood. The night sky hovered over them like an unwelcome presence, while the small girl slept peacefully beside him. She hadn't stirred once, even when he broke down and grasped her warm hand in his. He squeezed it gently, assuring her that he was there and there to stay.

He shifted back and forth on tired legs, finally giving in to the wooden chair that sat in the corner of the room. Stepping away from the bed, he pulled the chair over and sat down with a sigh. He immediately took hold of her palm once more, now at eye level with her. There were so many things he wanted to say--so many things she needed to hear.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to speak for the first time. His voice was scratchy and almost unrecognizable. The bile still burned in the back of his throat and his tongue was dry and sticky as her name spilled from his lips. "Buffy," he said softly, unsure of where to start. Could she hear him? Did she even know he was there? He swallowed. "Buffy, I..."

God. He couldn't do this. His eyes stung with tainted tears and it took all of his willpower to keep them from falling. He couldn't even remember the last time he cried.

Leaning back in his seat, he let out a defeated sigh.

"That was anti-climatic."

Spike darted up from the chair when her small voice broke the silence of the room. Her eyes were still closed, but she was smiling playfully. She gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know that she was awake.

"Buffy? God, love. I thought you would never wake up." He leaned over the bed and peppered her face with soft kisses, fresh tears coating his eyes.

She giggled lightly under the gentle attack of his lips. "That tickles," she whispered.

"Mmm." He kissed her dry lips with his own. "I'm sorry, baby."

Buffy smiled again, despite the pain she was in. It felt like a ball of fire was burning a big hole in the middle of her chest. But she didn't say anything--he had to know that she was brave. "How long have you been here?" she wondered. Her voice was low and raspy, as if she hadn't spoken a word in weeks.

"I don't even know anymore," he replied truthfully. Hours? Days? Months? "A long time."

"I dreamed about you."

Spike's heart ached. "Did you now?"

She nodded. "We were living together. It was a big, white house right on the beach. I was looking out the window, watching as you ran along the shore with a little girl on your back. I think she was our daughter," Buffy told him. "You danced under the sun, the water splashing under your feet. I could hear you laughing as you spun her around, her long blonde hair floating in the breeze. Then you turned around and looked at me through the window. Your face was so bright, so beautiful. And when you smiled my entire being lit up and I couldn't help but smile back." With a sigh, she finished: "We were happy, Spike."

He didn't know when the tears had started, but they fell down his cheeks like tiny embers. "You could see all that?" he wondered, trying to keep his voice even.

"Yeah," she smiled. "I could see it all."

"Oh, Buffy..."

Spike brought her hand to his lips, kissing it softly and resting his forehead against its warmth. The minutes passed in silence before Buffy spoke once more.

"Spike?"

"Yes?" he replied, glancing up at her.

Her lips trembled, but she held back her tears. "Am I dying?"

Oh god, don't ask me that... His heart was breaking in his chest and he squeezed her hand more tightly. "You... you're going to be okay, Buffy," he lied. "The doctor said you'll be just fine."

She smiled gently. "You don't have to lie to me, Spike. I can already feel it coming."

"Feel what?"

"Death."

He shook his head. "Buffy, you're not--"

"Spike, don't. I'm stronger than you think I am. I can be brave," she explained, tenderly stroking his face with her palm.

He closed his eyes, letting the feel of her skin on his take him over. Then he whispered, "Why did you do it, baby?"

"Do what?"

He swallowed. "Why did you save me?"

She thought for a moment, the memories all rushing back to her. "When I heard that pistol cock, the only thing on my mind was keeping you safe. I'd do it all over again if I had to."

"Don't say that."

"I would."

"Buffy, you wouldn't be lying in this bed if it weren't for me," he reminded her, the disdain he held for himself beginning to surface. "I destroyed you."

"No, you didn't," she corrected. "You brought me to life."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's true. I've never felt this way before. I've never felt more whole, more real. More alive. You saved me, too."

"I killed you!"

She smiled. "I'll be okay."

"I won't," he shook his head. "I can't lose you. I love you. I can't fucking lose you..."

He was weeping into her hand again when Buffy felt it. She didn't know what it was exactly, but it was... something. And she knew.

She knew that time was running out.

"Spike, can you do something for me?" she asked, swallowing the small pang of fear that rippled through her.

"Anything, pet."

She took a deep breath. "Tell him I'm sorry," she said.

He frowned in confusion for a moment before he realized. His jaw clenched in anger. "If I ever see that son of a bitch again, I'm goin' to rip his sodding head off."

"Please, Spike."

Her words were delicate, yet firm. Spike regarded her for a moment before finally nodding his head. "I'll tell him."

Buffy sighed in relief, feeling a weight she had been carrying around since that day finally lift from her. Her eyes were still closed shut, but not because she couldn't open them--because she didn't want to. She didn't want to remember that she was blind. She wanted to pretend that she could see. She wanted to pretend that she knew exactly what he looked like.

But she opened them anyway. She didn't know why, but she did. And for the first time in three years, light danced across her eyes and images began to come into focus. A ceiling... a light fixture... a fan... Her eyes roamed her surroundings, tears of joy filling them to the brim.

She could see.

It took more effort than she thought to turn her head and look at him. It was the one thing she desired more than anything, yet she almost didn't want to.

But she had to. She had to see him.

Swallowing hard, she turned her head slightly to the side, eyes finally fixating on him...

And on the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

"Spike..." she breathed out, the small tears sliding down her cheeks and depositing on the pillow beneath her head.

Spike looked over at her and noticed that she had opened her eyes. "Yes, love?"

A watery smile broke out across her face. "Why didn't you tell me your eyes were so blue?"

He studied her, unsure of what was happening. "What are you--" Then he stopped. His eyes widened in wonder and he knew.

He knew that she could see him.

"Oh, my god. Buffy. You can... you can see?"

She nodded, the smile never fading.

"Oh, Buffy... oh, love..." He wasted no time in kissing her once more, crashing his lips against hers. When he pulled back, he was grinning from ear to ear. "I can't believe it. You can really see me?"

"I can," she laughed, in awe of how gorgeous he was. His cheeks were just as sharp as she imagined, giving his face a rugged and chiseled look. His lips were soft and full. His body was lean, yet well-muscled. His hair was a mess of dainty, bleached curls and although his eyes were tired and worn--they were the most startling blue she had ever seen. "You're just so... pretty."

Spike arched a brow. "Can I take that as a compliment?"

"Definitely."

He grinned again. "I have to tell the doc," he realized. "He--he has to know. This changes everything, pet."

She knew that it didn't, but she said nothing. "Go tell him, gorgeous."

He was about to rush out of the room, but she grabbed his hand just in time. "Spike?"

He stopped. "Yeah?"

A sudden sense of peace washed over her when their eyes met and she was no longer scared. "I love you, too."

He froze for a moment, but then a smile so pure, so raw, broke out on his face and Buffy almost cried.

Then he dropped her hand and exited the room.

She closed her eyes, etching that smile into her mind forever.

~~~

Spike stared at the doctor incredulously. "She was blind, you git. Now she can see. How is that not relevant?"

Doctor Morris sighed. "Anything can happen in the moments before death. It's rare, but not impossible," he explained. "The crippled have walked, the mute have spoken, the blind could see."

"But how--?"

"We don't know. Some call it a miracle. Others use science to rationalize it. But the truth is, no one really knows. Her body is shutting down, and like I said... anything can happen."

Spike ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the delicate strands. He was so sure that Buffy was going to be okay. He was sure of it. And now...

"Fuck!" he shouted, wanting nothing more than to wrap his hands around the doctor's neck and force him to say that Buffy was going to be just fine.

Doctor Morris flinched at his outburst, but said nothing. He could only imagine what the man was going through.

"This is so bloody insane," he growled. Not giving the doctor a second glance, he spun on his heel and stormed back into Buffy's room. "That wanker! Doesn't have a sodding clue what he's yammering about. I mean, really! Wanker."

He approached her bed, fury racing through his veins. But he couldn't help but calm down when he saw her. His features softened and he sighed.

"My beautiful Buffy..." he whispered softly, taking her hand in his once more.

It was colder than he remembered.

Frowning to himself, he looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, a smile on her face. "Buffy?"

Her body was still, her hand lifeless in his. He swallowed. "Buffy?"

She didn't respond. But how could she?

She was gone.

His Buffy was gone.

Doctors and patients stopped in their tracks when the heart-wrenching sob ripped through the hospital, and the broken man in Room 627 fell to his knees and wept...

Spike was barely aware of the strong hands wrapped around his arms, practically dragging him from the room. He tried to stand on his own, but his legs were like jelly. Buffy grew smaller and smaller as the doctors pulled him farther away from her bedside. Voices surrounded him, but their words were jumbled and incoherent. He didn't care enough to try and make sense of them.

All he cared about was her.

I let her die alone, he realized, this new revelation shattering his already broken heart into a million pieces. I wasn't there for her last breath. She was alone.

A strangled sob escaped him, as his legs gave out completely and doctors had to half-carry him into the waiting room.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"Sir?"

"Are you okay, sir?"

But Spike didn't hear them. Everything was a blur--nothing mattered. Not anymore.

I let her die alone.

Suddenly, the two double doors burst open. Armed officers stormed in, their eyes searching and determined. But the body lying sprawled out on the waiting room floor was not hard to miss and he felt himself being lifted off the ground in no time.

After speaking with one of the doctors, Sheriff Brinkman approached the man who held Spike and whispered something into is ear. The officer's face fell.

"You're under arrest for the abduction and murder of Buffy Summers," he stated.

This seemed to break Spike out of his haze and he blinked. "Wh-what? Murder? No... no, I didn't--"

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. If you--"

"I didn't kill her!"

Handcuffs were clasped around his wrists.

Spike shook his head. "I didn't... it wasn't me. Willy Thompson. He--he shot her. He... killed her..."

Sheriff Brinkman paused. "Willy Thompson?" He turned to one of his men and continued, "He was the one who alerted us of Tyler's location."

An officer narrowed his eyes at Spike. "Willy Thompson, you say?"

All he could do was nod.

If he was lying or not, it was always best to make sure. "Do you know his license plate number? What his car looks like?"

"A blue Sedan. That's... all I know," he choked out.

With a sigh, the officer turned on his walky talky and spoke into it. "Yeah, get a search party out for Willy Thompson. He's driving a blue Sedan--he couldn't have gotten far. Maybe you can trace his cell call. Uh-huh. Thanks." He clicked it off and clipped it back onto his belt. "As for you, Mr. Tyler," he said. "You're coming with us."

Spike didn't care. Maybe I did kill her? If I had stayed out of her life in the first place, she would still be alive... His thoughts were eating away at him, tearing him apart.

So, this is what it felt like to break. To fall. To hurt. He deserved it, though--he knew that much. He deserved to suffer. He deserved to ache. He deserved to cry, bleed, sting, and burn. He deserved it all.

As they walked him out of the hospital, he noticed a helicopter to his left. That must've been how they discovered him so quickly.

When they approached the unconventional mode of transportation, he was immediately pushed inside, the door slamming shut behind him. His eyes drifted to the hospital, as they began to ascend.

Buffy was still in there. He was leaving her behind. He didn't want to, but he had to. If it were up to him, he would stay by her side, holding her cold hand in his until the end of time.

But the law had other plans for him. Spike knew what he was about to face--the charges that were being held against him. And somehow he didn't care. He had no fight left in him. He deserved whatever sentence came his way.

And as the hospital disappeared from sight, the guilt and regret piercing his heart, only one thought stood out in his mind.

I let her die alone.

~~~

Three Weeks Later

Sounds of the attorney's closing arguments echoed through the courtroom.

Angel sat nervously in his seat, conflicting emotions running through him. Mr. and Mrs. Summers were beside him with cold eyes and tear-stained faces.

He knew he should keep quiet. But honesty had always been the quality that defined him and he knew that keeping this information to himself would do him in one day.

But what did he owe this man? Absolutely nothing. He hated Spike Tyler more than anything. He had taken his Buffy out of his life and now she was gone for good. He would never see her eyes light up, he would never see her smile--never again. And it was all Spike's fault.

So, why should he care if he got twenty years in prison?

Angel swallowed, the courtroom making him feel small and suffocated. Sweat dripped from his hairline and he tapped his foot anxiously against the hard floor.

Today was the day. Today the jury would decide Spike's sentence. Angel had approached the witness stand and lied through his teeth. He didn't dare admit that Spike had indeed let Buffy go. He wanted to see this man suffer the unspeakable. But as time progressed, he began to feel more and more guilty for lying in a court of law and he almost felt bad that Spike was going to get a harsher punishment than he deserved. It was insane to feel that way, but he couldn't help it.

With a deep breath, he stood on shaky legs, watching as everyone in the room turned to face him. "Can I say something, your Honor?" he squeaked out.

Joyce's eyes widened, wondering what Angel possibly had to offer the court. He had already been to the stand. Besides, Spike was going to be prosecuted today--what information could he possibly contribute?

Judge Harris glanced at Angel, curiosity in his eyes. "Is this really necessary, Mr. O'Neil?"

The dark-haired man nodded, his eyes darting to the bleached head a few rows in front of him. He then looked back at the judge, swallowing down his fear. "I-I wasn't exactly honest in my testimony, your Honor."

Gasps sounded in the room.

The judge raised an eyebrow. "Please, Mr. O'Neil. Enlighten us."

Angel gulped and closed his eyes. "Mr. Tyler did let Buffy go."

More gasps. Joyce clasped her hand over her mouth and Hank's jaw tensed. The jury listened to his claims.

"I tracked them down over a month ago," Angel continued. "I offered Spike money to let her go and he did. He didn't take the money, but he let her go. It was Buffy's decision to go back."

"These are some serious allegations. You do realize that withholding evidence is a felony? Not to mention, perjury?"

"Yes, your Honor."

Judge Harris nodded. "We will let the jury decide. As for you, Mr. O'Neil--I see a court date of your own in the near future. Please have a seat."

Angel sat down, both relieved and terrified. But somehow... he knew he did the right thing.

Spike stared blankly ahead of him. Angel's new testimony should have made him happy, but he couldn't bring himself to feel any sort of elation. He was just tired.

His attorney, Charles Gunn, sat beside him with a smile. There wasn't much physical evidence in this case so they needed all they could get.

The clack of a gravel silenced the commotion in the room and Judge Harris glanced at Spike. He then turned to the jury and nodded his head. "The jury is going to take a recess now to deliberate the sentence of the defendant."

Spike let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Was he... scared? He had no right to be. He knew what he was getting himself into when he agreed to accept Willy's offer.

But did he? Did he know that he was going to fall in love with little Buffy Summers?

No. He didn't know he was capable of it. Especially not a love so consuming.

He still loved her though. Even in death. And he knew that he always would. Buffy was a part of him now--the only part of him that he could honestly say he was proud of.

Spike leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. The minutes passed by slowly as he waited to hear his fate. He had determined from the trial that under California law, twenty years was the minimum for kidnapping without the intent of letting the victim go. Twenty years was the maximum for kidnapping--if the victim was let go. Angel had stated that he had let Buffy go, but it was up to the jury to decide if they believed him or not.

After two hours dragged by, the jury finally re-entered the courtroom. The verdict was handed to the judge.

"Has the jury made a decision?" Judge Harris asked, handing it back to the jury foreman.

Spike swallowed, as his sentence was read off.

"We, the jury, find the defendant, William Tyler, guilty of kidnapping Buffy Summers. Yet, we do believe he had the intention of letting her go."

The judge nodded and faced Spike. "Mr. Tyler, you have been found guilty of the kidnapping of Buffy Summers. I sentence you to twelve years in the Sunnydale penitentiary. Case closed. Court dismissed."

You can do this. One foot in front of the other. Left. Right. You're almost there... You can do this.

He walked down the narrow path, keeping his eyes on his swiftly moving feet. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

It wasn't long before he stopped in front of his destination and peered between the metal bars. The cell was small and dark--much like his own had been.

Willy looked up when he saw the shadow appear. He blinked a few times, making sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Then he smiled that goofy smile of his and stood up on weakened legs. "Tyler, man? That really you?"

Spike eyed the man who had previously been tracing pictures in the dirt with his finger. "It's me," he said.

"It's been a while."

Spike said nothing.

"So, uh, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" he wondered, approaching the cell bars and leaning against them.

"Made a promise to a lady."

"Oh, yeah?"

He nodded. "She's sorry."

Willy's jaw tightened. "Little late for that," he replied coolly.

"It's a little late for a lot of things." His eyes lowered and his voice softened. "But she wanted me to tell you that."

The dark-haired man took a step back and sat down on his dirty cot. "Yeah, well. Can't say I really care."

"No... no, I didn't expect you would." Spike took a deep breath and looked back up at him. "You in here for much longer?"

Willy shrugged. "Twenty more years. Maybe thirty. I lost track after the first ten."

"I see."

"Yeah."

Silence passed between them and Spike finally stepped away from his cell. He never wanted to see this man again. "Goodbye, Willy."

Willy watched as his childhood playmate began to walk away. "Take care, friend."

"I'm not your friend," he said softly and disappeared from sight.

When he reached the double doors, he pushed them open and stepped out into the warm, afternoon glow. The sun was bright and he looked up at it, squinting his eyes beneath its harsh rays. Then, with a content sigh, he continued walking, leaving the Sunnydale penitentiary behind him for good.

He was free.

~~~

Many years have passed
Since those summer days
Among the fields of barley

The drive was shorter than he remembered.

Things hadn't changed much. When he was a boy, he always thought the year 2015 would consist of robots and flying cars. He never dreamed the same buildings would still be standing and the same trees would still be growing.

Then again, he never dreamed he would spend twelve years of his life locked in a jail cell.

See the children run
As the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

He was forty years old now. So much time had passed. So much had happened in those twelve years--and he had experienced none of it. His days had consisted of small meals and dreams of a past he couldn't change.

And when the rundown hotel appeared on his right, that past came tumbling back with alarming forth and he almost choked.

Blinking back his tears, he parked the rented car in the familiar parking lot, eyes never leaving the dilapidated building before him. He stepped out and shut the door behind him, his heart rate picking up as he approached the door.

But then he realized there was no door. Just a black hole, beckoning him to enter.

He stepped over the yellow tape and into the old building. Memories swept over him like a mighty wind and it took all of his willpower to keep on walking. He trudged up the small staircase, the wooden steps squeaking beneath his feet. How many times had he carried Buffy up this staircase? How many times had he carried her up this staircase against her will?

"I want you to let me go!"

"Sorry, but you're not very convincing when you're upside down."

He sighed, pausing when their room came into view.

Their room.

"I can't do this. I can't stay in this room, knowing that I won't be leaving it."

Spike took a deep breath and entered, stepping over the door that was still lying on the ground. Nothing had changed in those twelve years. The room looked exactly the same--aside from drawers that had been opened and boxes that had been overturned. The police must have done a sweep of the place, he decided.

Continuing his journey, he walked around the dim-lit room, his eyes searching. An opened bottle of rum sat atop the desk. The garbage can was filled with various food containers. The bed was rumpled and unmade. Everything was all so real.

He sat down on the bed, taking a moment to gather his strength.

And that was where he found them.

Noticing a flash of white peeking out from under the pillow, he grasped it in his hand and pulled it out.

Bloody hell.

A journal entry dated September 25, 2003 graced his eyes. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he lifted the pillow and pulled out the rest of the papers. There were seven, to be exact. Her handwriting was crooked and words bled into one another, but he could still make sense of it. Taking a quivering breath, he picked up the one with the earliest date.

September 17, 2003:

Dear Journal,

Buffy

September 18, 2003:

Dear Journal,

Buffy

September 23, 2003:

Dear Journal,

Buffy

September 25, 2003:

Dear Journal,

Buffy

October 1, 2003:

I apologize for not writing sooner. So much has happened.

Buffy

October 3, 2003:

Dear Journal,

Buffy

October 5, 2003:

Dear Journal,

Buffy

Spike stared at the final entry longer than necessary. Tears welled up in his bright blue eyes and his heart ached painfully in his chest. He hadn't cried since that night at her bedside--he wouldn't let himself. But now, in this room, so vulnerable and so lost, a salty droplet slid down his cheek and landed on the crinkled paper.

But that was all. Swallowing down the rest of his tears, he gathered the white sheets in his hand and tucked them back under the pillow.

They didn't belong to him. They weren't meant for him.

They were meant to stay here in this room. With her memory.

You'll remember me
When the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley

He didn't know why he decided to come back. A sense of closure? A sense of peace?

Whatever it was, he found it.

"I love you, too."

Her final words echoed all around him, as they had for the past twelve years. Knowing that Buffy loved him was enough to keep him going. Enough to keep him living. Besides, she was in a better place. He had to believe that she was happy.

You can tell the sun
In his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

He stood up with a sigh. "Oh, Buffy... my beautiful Buffy..." he whispered to the room, drinking in the sight of it for the last time. He knew that this would be the last time he would ever come here. It was too painful. The memories assaulted him like a summer kiss, knocking all the air out of his lungs. But he needed to come back.

He needed to let her go.

When we walked in fields of gold

Spike turned around and left the room, smiling for the first time in twelve years.

And without looking back, he officially left the past behind him--along with the memories of a girl with the most beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen.