Valerie

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, etc. I own nothing.

Summary: More post-Giftage. If you can wade through yet another Buffy resurrection, I promise there’s some B/S sex a comin’!

Rating: R

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 5

Feedback: Yes please!

Distribution: Sure.

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Chapter 1: The Beginning

The three vampires circled, growling. They moved as a unit, which was rare; these three had obviously been hunting together for some time. They had probably come to Sunnydale thinking that the warm summer nights and the absence of a slayer would make for easy pickings. They were wrong.

The man they circled became a blur of kicks and punches, managing to take on the three fierce hunters at once. He was driven by rage and grief and guilt, and he gave no quarter. In almost the blink of an eye, two of the vampires were nothing but piles of dust. The leader, seeing that he had met more than his match, quickly cut his losses and ran into the night. For a moment, the night was still and quiet.

"You lost one!" came a sing-song voice from behind a tombstone. The fifteen-year old who owned the voice popped up and cracked her gum, regarding the vampire in the black leather duster levelly.

"Dammit, Dawn, how many times have I told you not to follow me on patrol!" Spike tucked his stake into his belt and stalked toward the other side of the cemetery. Dawn followed.

"I know, I know, but I was bored and I finished my homework. And there was nothing good on TV. Besides, Willow lets me come on patrol with her," Dawn complained.

"Yes, but patrol for Red is flinging stakes at vampires from a safe distance using her wiccan mojo. Or binding them with air and then staking them at her leisure. It isn’t as dangerous."

"You know, Buffy was fifteen when she started doing it professionally."

Spike winced. Even after four months, the mention of her name was painful. "Well, you aren’t a Slayer," he growled. Quietly, he added, "Be bloody well thankful for that."

They continued on in silence. Since Buffy had died, taking care of the demons and vampires that were drawn to Sunnydale by the hellmouth fell to those that had loved her and were left behind after the battle with Glory on that horrible night four months ago. Spike and Willow did much of the active patrolling, being the strongest, Spike because he was a vampire himself, and Willow because of her powerful magical abilities. Giles had decided to stay in England after debriefing the Council on Buffy’s death, finding living in Sunnydale too painful. Tara, Anya, and Xander helped, but they weren’t as strong, and the group was loathe to lose another of their number. Whether Buffy’s sister was old enough to help out with things like patrol was becoming a source of constant tension, especially with Spike, who had taken his oath to protect her very seriously.

As Dawn was preparing another argument they came to Buffy’s grave. They stopped, as all of them always did. Spike stood awkwardly for a moment, then moved to brush a few stray fallen leaves from the stone. He then let his fingers trace lovingly over the letters of her name. Buffy Anne Summers, 1981-2001. After a minute, he shrugged, almost as if he was trying to get a great weight off of his shoulders. "Let’s go."

As they walked away, Dawn began to notice the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She paused, as did Spike, who also sensed something was amiss. The air smelled of ozone. Before either of them could say anything, a growing light in their peripheral vision made them whip around toward the grave, where something, some kind of light energy was growing in intensity. They stared, dumbfounded, as it grew in brightness and they shielded their eyes. Then the light seemed to explode outward, and Spike knocked Dawn to the ground, shielding her with his body. As quickly as it appeared, the light seemed to die, and the two people picked themselves up off the ground.

"What the fuck was that?" asked Dawn, whose bad language had earned her a lecture from almost everyone but Spike.

"I don’t - wait, there’s someone over there." Spike trotted back to the grave, where at first glance there was clearly someone or something lying on the ground. When he got there, he stopped and stood still. And did nothing, just stood and stared.

"Spike, what is it?" Dawn worked her way back over as well. "Spike? Hello, Earth to Spike, what-" Then Dawn saw what Spike saw.

"Buffy?"

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CHAPTER 2

The Resurrection

She lay on the ground like a vision or a fantasy. Her hair was splayed out on the ground below her. Her skin was pink and unblemished. And her clothes were nonexistent.

For several seconds, her name hung in the air. Then Dawn dropped to her knees by the body, frantically feeling for a pulse and touching the face, assuring herself that it wasn’t a mirage. "There’s a pulse and she’s warm... and she’s breathing... Oh, God. Oh, Buffy." She turned to Spike, tears in her eyes. "Is it her? Is she real?"

It took a couple of tries before Spike could get sounds to come out of his mouth. "I don’t know. We have to be careful; even if it is her she might not be... right. And this could be a trick, a ... simulacrum of some kind."

At that point, a sharp intake of breath brought their eyes back to the woman on the ground. Her eyes were open, staring wildly at the sky above her.

"Buffy, can you hear me? Buffy?" Dawn cried. The woman who looked like her lost sister looked into Dawn’s eyes.

"Dawn?" came a cautious, slightly raspy voice that was still unmistakably Buffy’s.

Dawn collapsed on her sister, crying and praying and thanking every power that ever existed. Spike could only watch in awe, in fear that if he moved or spoke he would shatter into a million pieces.

Buffy seemed to come more to herself, bringing her arms up to cradle her sister and trying to sit up. "Dawnie, what is it? What’s wrong? Where - what happened? Where are we?" She then seemed to notice her own body for the first time. "And where are my clothes?" she asked a little indignantly.

Spike sprang to action at that point, whipping off his leather coat and offering it to the woman as cover. Which she accepted, her eyes wary. "Spike? What’s going on?"

How does one answer a question like that? Well, you see, you died four months ago, and now you have appeared mysteriously in a bring flashing light. "What do you remember, luv?"

Buffy thought for a moment as she dislodged Dawn enough to put on the coat. "Fighting Glory. I went up the tower, and Dawn was up there. I cut her bonds, and tried to get her down, but it was too late. The portal was open. I realized that I could close the portal with my blood. I said goodbye to Dawn. I jumped. I was surrounded by white light. It was painful. Then ... then I heard Dawn’s voice and I opened my eyes and here I was. I’m surprised to be alive, to be honest."

"You weren’t," Spike choked out. Buffy’s retelling had taken him back to that night, a place of nightmares for him that he tried desperately not to remember.

"What?"

"You were dead, pet."

"What do you mean dead? Like, someone revived me, did CPR or something?"

"No, like as far as we knew a moment ago, your body was six feet under the bloody ground right here," Spike said. "Look." He indicated the tombstone behind her.

Buffy turned, then crawled over to the stone. She knelt before it for a long time, staring at the words.

"Buffy?" Dawn prodded.

"’She saved the world a lot’?"

"That was Xander’s idea," Dawn explained.

Buffy turned around, tears in her eyes. "How can this be?"

Spike went to her, helping her to her feet. "We don’t know. Why don’t we get you inside somewhere safe and we’ll get the Scoobies together and we’ll figure this one out, OK, pet?"

They headed out of the cemetery, supporting Buffy on unsteady legs between them. "Where should we go?" Dawn asked.

"You still got a key to the old house?" Spike asked.

"Yep."

"There then."

Buffy looked from one to the other of them. "The old house?"

"Your house, luv. It’s been shut up since you… "

Buffy stopped walking. "How long?"

"Buffy, let’s just - "

"How long?"

Spike sighed. "Four months."

"Four months? I’ve been dead for four months?"

Spike looked at the ground and nodded. After a few seconds, Buffy again allowed herself to be led in the direction of her house.

Buffy looked at Dawn. "So where have you been living?"

"Well," Dawn looked guiltily at Spike. "In theory I’m living with Dad in L.A. But, I don’t actually spend the night there very often. Dad travels a lot, or spends the night with his girlfriend. So I stay here. With Willow sometimes, or with Xander and Anya, or … with Spike."

"Not in the crypt," Buffy groaned.

"Yeah. It’s kind of like camping out, you know? Besides, I feel safe there," Dawn said defiantly.

"If you cared so much about being safe, why are you following me on patrol?" Spike asked her in a chastising, fatherly voice.

Dawn rolled her eyes. Buffy looked questioningly at Spike. "Patrol?"

Spike got that look on his face that indicated he had again been caught wearing the proverbial white hat. "Well, somebody has to keep the Hellmouth safe for your li’l sis. Between me and Red, we do a pretty good job of it."

"Willow patrols?"

"Oh, you should see her, Buffy," Dawn gushed. "She can stake a vampire from about 40 feet away just by flinging a stake with her mind. It is so cool."

"Really." Buffy thought about that while they walked the rest of the way in silence.

They entered the stuffy, dusty house and Spike flipped on the lights. "Least no one thought to turn off the power."

"Your room is pretty much the way you left it, Buffy, so if you want some clothes …" Dawn said, glancing at Buffy in the leather coat.

Buffy looked down at herself. "Right. Clothes would be good." She walked slowly up the stairs, supporting herself with the banister. Dawn and Spike stood and watched her ascend.

When she had gone, Spike made his way over to the living room couch and slowly sat, putting his face in his hands. Dawn watched as he finally lost control of his emotions, his shoulders shaking. Tears in her own eyes, she ran and put her arms around him. Neither spoke for a minute.

Finally Spike looked up, shakily wiping his face and running his fingers through his hair. "We should call the others."

"Yeah." Dawn pulled the cell phone her father had gotten her out of her pocket and began punching numbers. "Tara? It’s Dawn. Um, I don’t know quite how to say this, but…"

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CHAPTER 3

The Reunion

"Buffy?"

Dawn pushed open the door to Buffy’s room to find her sitting on the bed, wearing a sweater and a pair of pants and clutching Spike’s coat on her lap. She was jolted out of her thoughts by Dawn’s voice, and she stood quickly. "Sorry, it’s just … This is a lot to deal with."

"For all of us," Dawn agreed, going over and hugging her sister tightly. "Oh, Buffy, I don’t care why this happened, I’m just so thankful - " Dawn’s tears started again, and she clutched Buffy like a life preserver. Finally she pulled away. "The guys are downstairs."
Downstairs, Anya, Xander, Tara, and Willow clustered around Spike, trying to understand his disjointed retelling of the evening’s events.

"So she just… appeared." Willow said.

"Pretty much." Spike was pacing around the room, taking deep drags off a cigarette that he held in a shaking hand.

"Is she… normal? Is she -" Xander trailed off.

"Is she evil?" Anya asked with her trademark straightforwardness.

"I don’t think so. She seems like herself, although obviously a bit shaken by the news that she’s been dead. To her, she just jumped into that bloody portal an hour ago. The fact that it’s four months later…" He stopped as Dawn and Buffy appeared on the stairs and no one was listening to him anymore.

The next few minutes were emotional ones, with much hugging and crying on all sides. Finally, everyone sat down and Anya spoke up. "Buffy, don’t take this the wrong way, but no one else is going to ask you: are you evil?"

Buffy glared at Anya, then smiled. "I guess that’s a justifiable question, but no. I mean, I feel like me. Buffy." She paused, "Oh! I have a reflection! See?" She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror above the mantle. "That’s good, right?"

Willow pondered it. "Well, it proves you aren’t a vampire, but Spike already said you had a pulse. I wonder… Tara, maybe we should do a sensing spell for Buffy’s aura. See if it seems the same as it used to." Tara agreed, and they brought Buffy over to a clear spot on the floor. They each took one of her hands. "This should be easier than when we were looking for you when you were in Faith’s body, because you are right here in the room with us." They both closed their eyes and started chanting quietly, while Buffy stood between them looking dubious about the whole operation. After a few minutes, both witches opened their eyes and turned to hug Buffy, tears in their eyes again. "Welcome back, Buffy," Willow whispered.

"Guess that means she passed," Xander commented, then went to join the hug.

After more crying, Buffy got a confused look on her face. "Guys? Where’s Giles?"

"Oh! England," Dawn said. "He kind moved there permanently."

"Giles left?" Buffy sat down, looking forlorn. "He just… left?"

"Well, it was hard for him, staying here," Xander said. "After the, uh, funeral, he had to go back there to debrief the Council on your, uh…"

"Death," Buffy prompted.

"Yeah. Anyway, he just decided to stay. It is his home, and I guess the Council gave him a nice desk job. He still owns the Magic Box, but Anya manages it. He says he’ll probably sell it to us eventually, probably as a wedding present," Xander commented, smiling at his future wife.

"Wedding present? You guys are engaged? That’s so -" Now it was Buffy’s turn to cry as she hugged first Xander and then Anya. "Oh, God. I’ve missed so much."

"Shouldn’t we call Giles?" Tara asked.

Dawn was already punching numbers again on the cell phone. "Can’t wait til Dad gets this bill." She left the room so that she could hear better.

"So this is what I don’t get," Anya said. "We all saw Buffy’s body. We put it, well, not we, but someone put it in a coffin and buried it. So where did this one come from?" she asked, pointing at Buffy.

"Actually, I think it’s a new one," Buffy said. "There are differences." They all gave her weird looks. "Scars. My scars are gone. I had a scar here on my neck from when Angel fed from me. It’s gone. I had a scar on my stomach from when that vamp turned my stake on me last fall. Gone. It’s like, it’s like I’ve been put in a body that’s just like mine, but, well, new."

"Do you think, well, um, do you think you’re still, um, a Slayer?" Tara asked timidly.

Buffy looked surprised. "Wow. I never thought of that."

"One way to answer that question," Spike declared, standing up and stubbing his cigarette out. He faced Buffy and spread his arms. "Let’s have it then. Just like old times."

"You want her to hug you?" Xander asked.

"Well, wouldn’t say no, but actually, Harris, I want her to hit me. See what she’s got." He turned back to Buffy.

"I don’t know," Buffy hesitated.

"Hmm, now I’m starting to doubt whether you really are Buffy, cause she never would’ve passed up an opportunity to knock me on my sorry ass."

"Fine," she said, grinning. Fast as lightening, her fist connected with Spike’s jaw. And Spike just as quickly connected with the floor. There was a smattering of applause from the onlookers.

Spike sat up, rubbing his jaw and regarding Buffy with a look full of admiration and love. "Yeah. I’d say she’s still the Chosen One, alright."

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CHAPTER 4

Welcome Back from the Dead

"I don’t know if this is such a good idea," Buffy said as they got out of the car in the parking garage of the apartment complex where Xander and Anya now lived together. It had been three days since her ‘resurrection,’ as everyone now called it.

"Come on, Buffy, even in Sunnydale a ‘Welcome Back from the Dead’ party is a pretty rare occurrence. Besides, there were some other people who wanted to see you," Dawn said, taking Buffy’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"People? How many people?" Buffy asked with much trepidation.

"Just a few, I promise."

They headed for the elevator. "Did I mention how grown up you’re starting to look now?"

Dawn smiled and rolled her eyes. "Only about a million times."

"Sorry, it’s just, so many things have changed in four months. Xander and Anya engaged and living together, everyone treating Spike like one of the gang, -"

"Well, Buffy, that started when you began trusting him after he was tortured by Glory and didn’t give me up. Then, when you died, he took it so hard - I guess even Xander felt sorry for him."

"He took it hard?"

Dawn stopped walking. "God, Buffy, think about it. He’s a completely neutered vampire, his whole reason for existence cut off from him. The only thing he had to live for was you. When you died, he ..."

"What?"

"Tried to end it. I caught him outside our house the morning after the wake waiting for the sun to rise. I pled with him to come inside, which he finally did. Then there was the blood; he wouldn’t eat. I practically had to force-feed him for a week." Dawn sighed.

"Why did you do all that to keep him alive?"

Dawn’s eyes got shiny with tears. "Because I couldn’t lose anyone else! Because I needed him." Dawn started walking again. "I’m not sure how I would’ve gotten through all this without him. I guess... I guess he’s like a big brother to me. A much, much older, pale weirdo big brother."

Buffy smiled at that. "And everyone else just accepted him into the Scooby fold?"

"Not at first. But he was needed to help keep the vampire population under control. Then gradually the others started to see what I saw; that he was still interested in doing good. And obviously it wasn’t to get into your pants anymore."

"Dawn!"

"What?" said Dawn, looking innocent. "Here we are," she said as they approached the door to Xander and Anya’s apartment. Dawn stuck her head in the door. "She’s here!" she yelled, waited a beat, then grabbed Buffy by the arms and propelled her through the doorway.

Cries of "Welcome back!" and "Hooray!" filled the room as her friends crowded around to greet her. They had even made a couple of banners, one reading "Welcome Back from the Dead" and the other, more blasphemous, reading "Jesus ain’t got nothin’ on Buffy."

In addition to Xander, Anya, Tara, and Willow, Giles, who had flown in two days ago, was there. Also present were a few special people who had made this trip from L.A. under much different circumstances four months ago. When Buffy saw Angel, she went to him and folded herself into his arms. After a long moment with no words, she pulled away and greeted Cordelia and Wesley warmly. Anya and Xander brought out food and turned on some music, and the little party began. Buffy and Angel sat down together on the sofa.

"I feel like I should be apologizing to people because they had to mourn me," Buffy remarked.

"Yeah, Cordy was just saying to me the other day, Buffy sure was selfish dying on us like that."

Buffy laughed. "I’m not sure if you’re joking or not."

"I’m joking. You’d be surprised with Cordelia these days. She’s grown up a lot."

The door banged open and Spike came in, a twelve-pack of beer in each hand. " ‘Lo, all."

"Spike, the bearer of beer! Come on back!" Xander beckoned from the kitchen.

Buffy watched the interchange bemusedly. "I don’t know what scares me more, that William the Bloody is shlepping beers for a bunch of humans or that Xander had clearly already invited him into his apartment."

Angel looked at Buffy seriously. "Do you trust him, Buffy?"

Buffy pondered that. "Spike? I don’t know. The others have had four months longer to get used to the new, improved Spike, the one who, as Dawn put it, is doing good for reasons other than getting into my pants." She grimaced at that. "I guess in some ways I do trust him."

"Just... be careful. He is capable of human emotions, more than most vampires, but that doesn’t make him human."

"I know."

There was a slightly awkward pause. "Giles said they have no idea yet why you’re back."

Buffy sighed. "No. Giles has exhausted his own resources and has called the Council. They’re looking into it, I guess. But it would make me feel a lot better, just... knowing. I guess you can relate."

"Yeah." Angel reached into his pocket, pulling out a business card and a pen. "I think I know someone who might be able to help you, though," he said, writing an address on the back of the card. "This is the address of a place in L.A. called Caritas. It’s a bar, well, actually a demon kareoke bar. Don’t ask," he replied to her querulous expression. "The guy who runs the place, Lorne, is a personal friend of mine. He may be able to give you some of the answers you’re looking for."

"Thanks," she said, taking the card and turning it over. "Wow, I never saw your cards before. What is that logo, a lobster or something?"

--------------

Buffy stood on the balcony of the apartment, a beer in hand, gazing wistfully out into the night. The party was nice, but in some ways it was too much too soon. And she feared that like three years ago when she returned from her stint as a runaway, her friends were using the party as a way to hide the fact that they weren’t entirely comfortable with her yet.

Spike came out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette. "Now why is the guest of honor hiding out here?"

She shrugged. "I don’t know." She gestured toward the apartment. "It’s too much, I guess."

"Yeah, I told them that it would be, but Willow and Xander got an idea and they ran with it." He examined her face in the dim light. "How are you holding up with all this? Really."

Buffy took a shaky breath. "Not great. I guess I just have no experience that helps me deal. Being dropped into a world four months after I died in it. Not knowing how or why. Not knowing what my place in this world is anymore. Not knowing if I even have one," she said more quietly.

"Buffy, how can you say that? Of course you have a place! As Dawn’s sister, as a friend to so many people -"

"Yeah, people who still look at me cross-eyed for even being here," she said angrily. "They grieved for me and they moved on, and now here I am trying to reinsert myself into their lives again -"

"Buffy, you’re wrong. Yes, things have happened since you died. The world is four months older. But if you think for a minute that we had really ‘moved on,’ that we haven’t thanked the stars every single day for having you back -" He stopped for a moment, swallowed, and took an unneeded breath. "You friends just need to get over the feeling that they’re seeing a ghost every time they look at you, that’s all."

"You don’t look at me that way."

He looked away. "I guess I spent more time fantasizing that you would come back somehow is all. This, this is just my fantasy made real."

She smiled at him sadly. Spike stared out at the night sky, refusing to meet her glance. On impulse, she moved to him and wrapped her arms around him. He jumped, startled, then returned the embrace.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth and all that, but what’s this for?"

Buffy shrugged. "You said you wouldn’t say no to a hug, so..."

Spike smiled, then hugged her tighter. "Welcome back from the dead, Buffy."

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CHAPTER 5

Right Hand Man

After three more days, Buffy was itching to get back to her Slayer duties. Her friends encouraged her to rest, but Buffy pointed out that after Glory, slaying a simple vampire would be a welcome change. However, when she finally went out on her first patrol, Spike was in tow.

"Spike, I appreciate your concern, really, but I’ll be fine. You can go home."

"If I went home, Willow would kick my ass. Come on, Buffy, allow us to be a little paranoid about losing you right now."

"Fine." They walked through the cemetery in silence for a bit. "Giles is going back to England tomorrow."

"Yeah, I heard."

"Guess I’m officially Watcher-less again," Buffy said sadly.

Spike tried to make light of it. "Oh, you know anytime you want someone to watch you," he said, pointedly looking at her ass, "I’d be more than happy to oblige." Buffy didn’t respond, even to punch him. Spike dropped the joke. "Well, you know, luv, he got back together with that Olivia bird. Can’t expect him to spend the rest of his life in Sunnydale clucking his tongue at Americans."

"I know. I want him to be happy. After all we’ve been through he deserves a calm, happy life with a wife and maybe children, even. Can you imagine little Gileses running around?" She giggled, but it quickly trailed off. "Somebody should have those things," she muttered.

"Translation: you believe you will never have those things."

"You have to admit, it’s not looking good. The other night Cordelia asked if coming back from the dead made me feel invincible, or impervious to harm. But really it makes me feel just the opposite. I feel like the countdown clock on my life has been reset, but it’s still counting down fast. Someday another Glory or Master or some other Big Bad is gonna come along and I’m gonna lose. Or I’m gonna have to sacrifice myself again." She sighed. "Besides, none of that matters if I never find a man to share my short and pathetic life with anyway."

"Woah, close the streets, because Buffy’s havin’ a pity parade!" Spike took her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes. "First, all you can do is live each day the way you want to live it and fight the battles you have to fight. If you die tomorrow, well, I’ll be royally pissed off, but that’s the way things are, and if you live to be a grandma with sagging breasts, then that’s the way things are. Just be happy. And as far as men go," he grinned, "You’ve just gotta stop denyin’ your feelings and hook up with me once and for all." She rolled her eyes. "I’m kidding. Buffy, you are the most beautiful, strong-willed, fascinating, sexy woman I have ever had the pleasure to know. Any man who gets to look at you, much less marry you and sire your babies should consider himself the luckiest man on Earth. Eventually you’ll meet someone who realizes that." He let go of her chin and started walking again.

She just stood and stared at him for a few seconds before she was able to get over the shock of his words, at which point she trotted to catch up with him. "Spike," she said, grabbing his hand, "That was… Thank you." And with that she kissed him gently on the lips. "I wish you could be… well, I guess I wish you were human."

He winced internally at that, but didn’t show her his pain at that statement. "You know, being human is highly overrated. Besides, you wouldn’t have liked me as a human. I was a ponce."

"What happened to, ‘I’ve always been bad’?"

"Yeah, about that, I wasn’t entirely truthful. Actually, I was pretty fuckin’ innocent, and painfully shy, and … a poet."

"Really?" She tried to imagine Spike writing poetry. Nope, impossible. She tried again: the hair would’ve been different, his natural color and in some 19th century style, same with the clothes, no scar over the eyebrow, OK, now she could sort of see it. But then she tried to imagine this 19th century Spike, no, William, in her mind’s eye telling her she was beautiful and sexy, and that didn’t work either. Maybe he was right, maybe she wouldn’t have liked him. Which made her ponder the fact that she liked him now. In spite of everything in their past, most of it ugly, he was now her friend.

"Struck speechless by the idea of me writing flowery poetry, eh?"

"Actually, I was struck speechless by the idea that you and I, in spite of everything in the past, are now pretty much friends."

"Pretty twisted. I guess I have things to apologize for. Not for trying to kill you for two years, that was the natural order of things. That was the food chain. But once I started loving you…" He paused. "That thing with Dru, and that bloody robot. I’m sorry for those things. I wish I had done that better. I guess that’s the kind of stuff a soul comes in handy for, huh?"

She smiled a small, wistful smile. "I guess."

They walked in silence a little longer. Finally Buffy asked the question she’d been pondering for some time. "Spike, if you got that chip out today, would you try to kill me?"

He looked at her with a pained expression. "The chip doesn’t control my feelings, it wouldn’t be like losing a soul. You, your sister, even your soddin’ friends... I care about you. I care about what happens to you, and I would grieve if something happened to any of you. Well, maybe not Xander," he said grinning. Then he turned serious again. "So no, I wouldn’t try to kill you or Dawn or the Scoobies. I wouldn’t leave notes on your pillow or kill Willow’s bloody fish either. I’m not Angel.

"But if what you’re really asking is, would I continue to be a white hat, fighting the good fight and all that rubbish, would I continue to shop at the butcher, that’s something else again. I am what I am. A vampire. I’m not much of one now, to be sure, but if I were again... Feeding from humans is my nature, luv. I’m not sure if I could deny that."

Buffy looked at him angrily. "So just like that, after two years, you just, what, pick up where you left off? After protecting humans you go back to preying on them?" Spike shrugged. "Then I’d have to kill you," Buffy said softly, and she was surprised that it made her heart ache a little to say it.

"I know."

Before they could say any more, they both caught movement off to the left with their peripheral vision and turned quickly, both taking up a defensive position. Two vampires were walking along several yards away, oblivious to the Slayer and vampire watching them.

"We’ll flank them," Buffy said, and without a backward glance at Spike, headed off to the left, ducking behind tombstones so that she could make a surprise attack. She positioned herself roughly in the vampire’s path and waited for them to catch up. When they were a few feet away, she sprang up in front of them, a wicked smile on her face. "Well, hey there, boys. Remember me?"

It was clear that they did in fact remember her, because they immediately began running in the opposite direction, only to find Spike bearing down on them from behind with his game face on. Caught between the proverbial rock and hard place, they turned to fight.

Buffy moved in to deliver a roundhouse kick to the head of the bigger of the two, but her movement was slightly off center and she almost lost her balance. Disconcerted, she punched the vampire three times in the stomach, causing him to stagger backwards. That’s better. She pulled out a stake and plunged it into his chest, but he had moved slightly at the last second and she missed the heart. Before she could attack again, the vamp grabbed her wrist and twisted it viciously, causing her to drop the stake, gasping in pain. He kicked her feet out from under her, and Buffy hit the ground. Seizing his advantage, the vampire dove onto her, pinning her to the ground. Buffy felt his fangs at her neck, ready to plunge in. Great, she thought, struggling against him, I get resurrected just to die at the hands of some two-bit Sunnydale vamp. Suddenly, the vampire disappeared and a fine cloud of dust drifted down into her face. Buffy looked up to see Spike standing over her, a stake in his hand.

"The other one?" she asked.

"Got ‘im." Spike took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "God, Slayer, what happened?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 6

At the Still Point

"So you couldn’t fight at all?"

All of the Scoobies, including Giles, were gathered around the big table in the back of the magic shop. Buffy sat in the middle of them, icing her wrist and wilting a little under all the concerned gazes.

"No, I could," she replied, "if it was something that was just dependent on strength. But anything that required any amount of finesse and it was like... it was like my mind knew exactly what to do but my body wasn’t behaving." She thought for a second. "Actually, it was like the first time I slayed a vampire, sort of."

"You know," Willow said, "that makes a sort of sense. Buffy, you said your body was like new. All of your scars were gone. Maybe this is the same thing. You have the mental memory of all of your Slayer training, but none of the physical memory. Your body doesn’t remember how to be a Slayer."

"Great," Buffy said, feeling worse than ever. "So what you’re saying is that five years of Slayer training, completely out the window."

"Probably not. Your mind still remembers it all. The skills are all still up there," Willow said, tapping Buffy’s head, "and the tactics. You just need to retrain your body."

"Oh." Buffy looked around the room. "Well, I guess you guys aren’t completely off the hook for patrol for a little while, at least until I know I won’t be taken out by the first vamp that comes along."

Giles took off his glasses. "Buffy, I can call the Council, tell them about this, that I need to stay and help you get back into shape, continue your training."

"Giles, no, I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve started getting your life back together in England, I can’t just ask you to drop all that and -"

"But, Buffy, you need me to -"

"Hold it, you two," Spike said. "I think I have a solution to this." He paused dramatically. "I can train her."

Everyone looked at Spike for a few seconds, speechless. Then Xander spoke up. "You?"

"Yes, Harris, me. As you probably haven’t forgotten, I used to want this woman dead. I studied her. I watched her fight. I personally got my ass kicked by her several times. And more recently, I’ve fought along side her. For the last four months, I’ve been doing her job. I think I’m imminently qualified."

Giles was nervously wiping his glasses. "Yes, Spike, I’m sure that’s all true, but given your history with Buffy, I doubt she would agree to -"

"Actually, I think it’s a good idea." Everyone turned and looked at Buffy as if she had suddenly sprouted a second head. "Spike’s right, he’s qualified. And as we were discussing earlier tonight, we are friends now," she said, smirking at Spike.

"Buffy, are you sure?" Xander asked. "That’s putting a lot of trust in Spike. What if the chip stops working?"

Buffy gave Spike a measured look. "Let’s just say that we have an understanding on that score."

--------------------

"You’re leaving yourself open when you do that."

Buffy stood in the training room in the back of the magic shop as the punching bag swung slowly in front of her. She was sweating lightly, her hair in a pony tail, wearing spandex shorts and a sports bra. Spike sat against one wall, watching her. They had been training together almost every day for two weeks.

Buffy looked at him in frustration. "What do you mean?"

"When you attack like that, you’re leaving your left side open. Look." He came over to her and led her to the middle of the floor. "Attack me."

She did, and he quickly found her weakness and took advantage of it. Buffy hit the floor. "See?"

The first time they sparred with each other and Spike accidentally landed a punch, they had both stared at each other horrified when he didn’t fall over with his expected chip-induced headache. They soon realized, when Spike experimented with vamping out and attacking her and did indeed collapse in agony, that his intent was somehow governing the effect of the chip. When they were training, the chip didn’t prevent him from fighting with her, since his intent was not to hurt her.

Buffy stood up and dusted herself off. "OK, I think I see." She modified her attack, and this time it was Spike who ended up on the floor.

"Good," he said, groaning slightly as he stood up and moved back to his original spot on the floor.

"Wait," she said, "let’s spar. I’m tired of the punching bag. You put up slightly more of a fight."

The verbal jab was enough for Spike. He pulled off his T-shirt and joined her in the middle of the floor, and they began circling each other in defensive positions.

As they fought, they carried on a conversation that was positively mundane by comparison.

"How’d Dawn do on that history paper?" Spike asked as Buffy easily blocked several quick punches.

"B-minus." Buffy grabbed Spike’s fist and twisted, dropping him to his knees. She then let him up and they returned to their starting stances.

"B-minus? That paper was a damn site better than a bloody B-minus!" Spike landed a kick to Buffy’s stomach, sending her staggering back several steps. He pressed the advantage.

"Yeah, but she got marked off for not being able to site a source for some of her information. ‘Interview with a vampire who was present during the Boxer Rebellion’ doesn’t really work, does it?" Buffy fended off Spike’s attack, then used his forward momentum to propel him into the wall.

As they sparred, Buffy couldn’t help but notice Spike’s upper body. Not at all hard on the eyes. She watched the muscles of his arms flex as he threw punches at her. She found herself inadvertently remembering the words of the robot that was made in her likeness. You should see him naked. Then she suddenly found herself on her back on the floor, looking up at a grinning Spike. "You let your mind wander, pet." He helped her up.

Buffy blushed and they resumed. Fighting with Spike was a lot like dancing, she had to admit that he had been right on that score. She stopped thinking about anything and just lost herself in the ebb and flow of the battle. She was learning more and more to find a calm center within herself from which she had an amazing clarity and could anticipate her opponent’s moves. She found that now. When Spike grabbed her in an attempt to flip her to the ground, she saw that he was slightly off-balance and was able to use that to get his feet out from under him. He fell and she dropped on top of him, pressing an imaginary stake to his chest. "Gotcha," she said, smiling.

The joy of victory was quickly replaced by the realization that she was pressed on top of him and that they weren’t wearing a lot of clothes. The look of enjoyment on Spike’s face didn’t help matters. The room was suddenly way too warm. Buffy stood quickly, brushed herself off and hoped that she wasn’t blushing again. She was saved from the uncomfortable moment when Giles came into the training room.

"Oh, good Buffy, Anya said you were back here."

"Giles! I thought you were in England."

"I was, I literally just came from the airport. I’m only here for a few days, but I needed to see you right away."

"What’s up?"

"The council is... concerned about your resurrection. They want to make sure that there weren’t any ill effects on you, and that you are still capable of acting as a Slayer. They want to see you as soon as possible."

"Oh, great. So there’s a Watcher posse on the way to Sunnydale? Not again."

"No, no... posse, as you put it. They want you to come to them this time. To England."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 7

Ice Cream

They walked in companionable silence through the empty cemetery closest to her house. Ostensibly, they were on patrol, but neither was paying a whole lot of attention to the things going bump in the night.

"So, tomorrow’s the big day," Spike said, stating the obvious. Tomorrow Buffy flew to London for two weeks to meet with and be tested by the council.

"Yeah."

"Nervous?"

"No. Yeah. What if they find something wrong with me? What if they decide that I’m evil and -"

"Do you feel evil?"

"No."

"Well, you don’t look evil, and I know a little something about evil. You’re you. You’re Buffy. You’re the Slayer."

"Am I? I can’t do all the stuff I used to do," she complained.

"You’re getting better every day. You’ll be back to your old butt-kicking form before you know it." He smiled reassuringly down at her.

"Thanks." She stopped walking. "Spike, I’m really grateful for all this, I hope you know that. All this time you’re putting into training and patrolling with me. I know it can’t be easy for you."

"Why, because being a traitor to my kind has taken a slightly more active role? That doesn’t really bother me."

"Actually, I meant... never mind," she trailed off, looking away.

His expression darkened. "What? Because of my feelings for you? You think I’m tortured by being this close to you? Awfully high opinion of yourself, haven’t you, Slayer?" He began walking away from her.

Buffy stood there watching his retreating back, sorry that she had said anything. She chased after him and grabbed the sleeve of his coat, turning him to face her.

"I’m sorry, Spike, I don’t know why I said that." She looked down. "I don’t feel much like patrolling anymore. I think I’ll just go home and curl up in front of the TV with some ice cream, then turn in early." She looked into his blue eyes again. "You wanna join me?"

He hesitated, torn between the enjoyment and pain that came with spending time with her. In truth, being close to her was a kind of torture. "Lead on, then," he finally said, indicating the way to Buffy’s house.

-------------

Buffy unlocked the door on the dark and empty house, Spike following her in. "Where’s the Nibblet?" he asked.

"Spending the night with a friend." Buffy casually tossed her keys on the table, went into the living room, flopped onto the couch, and kicked her shoes off. She grabbed the remote from the table and started flipping through channels without really paying attention to the images that flashed across the screen. Spike grabbed the Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and a couple of spoons, setting them on the coffee table and sitting on the far side of the couch from her. He watched her for a time.

"Wow, it really is a vast wasteland, isn’t it?" Buffy said, noting that the best things on were the Behind the Music on Donny Osmond and the E! True Hollywood Story on Three’s Company. She flipped the TV off and turned to Spike. "So if you were actually a shy poet in your former life, what really happened the night Dru sired you?" She remembered the version she had gotten in the Bronze several months ago, and was fairly certain now that it wasn’t true.

"You really wanna know?" He looked at her curiously. "Why?"

She wasn’t really sure why she was asking. "Can’t I be curious about your life?"

He shrugged. "I was at a party, as I said before. But the true story is that I sat quietly in a corner scribbling out God-awful poetry for much of the evening." He grimaced at the memory. "When I actually ventured out to mingle, I was humiliated in front of Cecily."

"Who?"

"Woman I was in love with. I was writing the poetry about her, you see. It was that night that I told her I loved her. And she said I was beneath her."

Buffy frowned, remembering that she had said much the same thing to Spike the night he had told her the reedited version of this story. Of course, he had been talking about killing her, but looking back on it, he was probably talking about loving her too. "I’m sorry."

"Yeah, well, it was true. I was beneath her. Anyway, I was shattered, I ran out of the party in tears. That was when I met Dru. Thought she was a pick-pocket at first," he said, chuckling. "She offered me a new world. Didn’t know what she meant, but I wanted it."

"So she drank from you, you drank from her, the rest is history, huh?"

"I suppose."

"Did you kill Cecily?" Buffy asked, swallowing hard, not wanting to know the answer. "You know, after?"

"You’re thinking about Angel, right? Killed his family and his whole bloody village after Darla turned him." He stared straight ahead, his eyes unfocused. He was lost in the past. "I thought about killing her. Wanted to. I did kill several of the people who were at the party that night. I tracked her down. But I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t kill her. I ran from her." He looked at her, a crooked smile on his face. "So you see, Slayer, I’ve always been love’s bitch. From the very bloody beginning."

She studied his face for a minute. For the second time in a few days, she noticed how attractive he was, something that her fear and loathing had never allowed her to see. And he loved her, she knew that now. She reached out and gently touched his cheek. "You aren’t, you know."

His gaze was full of questions. "What, love’s bitch? I beg to differ."

"No, I mean a monster. You aren’t a monster," she said, remembering their last conversation before she died. She looked into his eyes. "I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you loved me. I didn’t think you were capable of it. I was wrong." On impulse, she leaned toward him and gently brushed her lips across his. To thank him for standing by her, for protecting Dawn, for accepting her return from the dead with no conditions. When their lips touched, she felt something stir within her. She had planned the kiss to be chaste and brief, but for a few seconds she didn’t pull away. He began to kiss her back, but with a certain amount of restraint. It was clear he wasn’t sure what exactly was going on and was afraid of doing anything to shatter the moment. But when she opened her mouth to his, it was all the encouragement Spike needed. His cool hands went to either side of her face and he deepened the kiss, gently exploring her mouth with his tongue. She responded in kind and Spike moaned, melting against her. Buffy still wasn’t very clear on how her thank-you kiss had developed into this, but she did know that this kiss was getting her more aroused than any kiss she could remember. Of course, it had been a long time, even longer if you counted the time she was dead. And, she had to admit, Spike was clearly an amazing kisser. She gave herself to it, pressing against him on the couch and wrapping her arms around him.

His hand drifted down to her thigh and ran slowly up her leg, then to her waist, where her bare skin was exposed between her T-shirt and pants. He ran his hand up her back under her shirt, trailing his fingers along gently in a maddening way that gave her little shivers of gratification. Buffy turned slightly and pressed him against the back of the couch, then climbed onto his lap, straddling him. She started moving the kisses from his mouth down to his neck while he deftly unhooked her bra and brought his hand around to touch her breast.

"Oh, God, Buffy," he whispered.

She pulled back and looked at him. "Let’s go upstairs."

Spike examined her closely. "Are you sure?"

"Is that a requirement?"

He smirked. "If I said yes, I’d be pretty much the biggest wanker in the world. I want you so badly I can hardly see straight."

"Then I say again: Lets. Go. Upstairs." She punctuated each word with a kiss.

"OK."

She slipped off his lap, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to a standing position. Then she turned and led him up the stairs and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. As soon as it was closed, he slammed her against it, kissing her with a longing that could only be born of a year of needing her. She reached around and grabbed his ass, pulling him against her and feeling the physical manifestation of his need pressing into her. He was devouring her and she couldn’t get enough.

Buffy pushed Spike away, aware of the fact that she didn’t have to temper her strength with him. She reached down and pulled his T-shirt off over his head. He did the same for her, her unfastened bra discarded along with the shirt. He led her to the bed and sat down, pulling her onto his lap again. He took one of her breasts in his mouth and she gasped with pleasure and threw back her head, grasping the back of his neck as he teased her with his tongue. She ground against him on his lap and he moaned appreciatively.

"You know, pet, I’ve got to get these boots off at some point in these proceedings," Spike commented. She rolled off his lap and he bent down and began unlacing the boots in question. In the meantime, Buffy stood up and took off her pants and panties so that when he had finished with the boots he looked up to find her standing naked before him. He gazed at the vision in front of him. "You are so beautiful."

He stood and kissed her, and then reached to his belt and began unfastening it. Buffy lay back on the bed and watched him finish undressing. Then she took his hand tenderly and pulled him onto the bed with her.

The feeling of the length of his body against hers was heavenly. His skin was smooth and cool but not cold. He kissed her passionately, running his hand gently down the length of her body. When he touched her between her legs she cried out and arched her back, and he played with her until she was close to the edge and wild with desire. He climbed on top of her and moved his hips against her, and she spread her legs for him, yearning for the feeling of him inside her. When he entered her, she clutched his shoulders and buried her face in his neck.

They had sex like the fought. It was wild and instinctual and in perfect harmony. A few times Spike lost control of the demon and vamped out, only to shake it off and kiss her, finding himself again in her eyes. At one point they rolled over and Buffy was on top, riding him with her head thrown back and her long hair trailing down her back. When she came, she screamed his name, and the sound and sight of her ecstasy brought Spike to an equally mind-searing climax. Buffy collapsed on top of him and he clutched her hair, kissing her shoulder and murmuring in her ear. After a few minutes she rolled off and lay next to him, her arm trailing over his chest as her breathing and heartbeat gradually slowed. Without another word between them, she fell asleep. Spike reached over and turned off her lamp, careful not to disturb her slumber.

She woke a couple of hours later to see Spike by the light of the street lamp outside, his head propped on his arm, watching her intently.

"What?"

He smiled. "I figured I probably wouldn’t ever get this chance again, so I shouldn’t waste it by sleeping."

"Besides, you do sleep during the day."

"True."

"I’m thirsty," Buffy yawned, "I’m going to get some water. Can I get you anything?"

"Nothing, luv."

Buffy stood up and walked to her closet, grabbing a bathrobe and shrugging into it. As she walked down the hall, she shook her head. Had she really just had the most amazing sex of her life with Spike? She still wasn’t sure what had come over her; her brain had been pretty firmly in the off position throughout the entire encounter. She had realized an attraction for him over the last couple of weeks, but it was a decidedly gigantic step from that to sex. She began wondering how big a mistake she had actually made tonight.

When she returned with the water, Spike had modestly covered himself with the sheet. She sat on the edge of the bed and sipped her water.

"So ... " she said.

"So ... " he replied.

After a long pause she laughed shortly. "Isn’t the awkwardness supposed to start in the morning?"

"Well, you’re leaving in the morning, so I thought we’d get a head start," he joked.

"Right." She took another sip of her water. "It was .. nice."

"Nice?? Are we talking about the same thing? Cause it was a lot more than ‘nice’."

She grinned. "You’re right. It was a lot more than nice."

He sat up and kissed her tenderly, cupping her face with his hand. All thoughts of mistakes and consequences and awkwardness flew out of her head and she returned the kiss. They made love again, slowly, each movement seeming to take an eternity. Afterwards, they both fell asleep entwined with each other, the only sound Buffy’s slow breathing.

She woke again briefly to a gentle kiss on the lips. "It’s almost dawn, so I better go, luv," he said.

"Um-hmm."

"Say hi to the Motherland for me, and give those Watchers hell."

" ‘Kay."

He kissed her again, slipped from the bed, dressed, and quietly left the room. Buffy drifted back to sleep as a joyful vampire raced across Sunnydale to beat the sunrise and a pint of ice cream melted in a gooey mess on her coffee table downstairs.

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