“Spike,” Angel said through gritted teeth. “What the hell did you do to my car?”

Not for the first time, he was disturbed to find himself thrust into a parental role, as Buffy and Spike stood shamefaced in front of his desk, heads bowed. Both of them bore the expected cuts and bruises, as well as a few injuries that looked more like battle wounds. Given the way they were studiously avoiding looking one another in the eye, he couldn’t help wondering if they’d done that to each other.

“Now, hang on a bloody minute –”

“He didn’t do anything,” Buffy cut in. “It was me. I was driving.”

Angel blinked in surprise. “You?” Wanton destruction was par for the course where Spike was concerned, but Buffy usually had a leveler head than that. She was a pretty terrible driver, though.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m really, really sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and the car in front of us stopped at a red light and I didn’t see it and –”

“Buffy, it’s okay. It’s only a car. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” He glanced at Spike, who seemed to be cradling his left arm with care, and then back at the bloody bandage on Buffy’s throat. “Worse than you already are,” he amended with a sigh. “Fred’s waiting for you in the lab. She can set that arm.”

Spike nodded and immediately headed for the door, but Buffy lingered in front of the desk, watching Spike’s back as he left the room. “You should go get checked out, too,” Angel said.

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Still, you should –”

“I’m going back to Rome.”

The abruptness of her announcement startled him. “But I thought –”

“My being here isn’t doing either of us any good, Angel. Spike’s made it pretty clear how he feels.” She gave him a tight, humorless smile. “There’s only so many hurtful remarks a girl can take, you know?”

He should’ve known it was a bad idea, asking her to stay. It killed him to see her torn up like this – and over Spike, of all people. “Look, Buffy, you probably don’t want to hear this, but maybe you’re better off. Everything’s out in the open now and you both can move on.”

“Better off?” she replied incredulously. “Of course. I forgot who I was talking to.”

“What do you want me to say? You think I want to see you with Spike?” He held up his hands, palms out. “I love you both, and I want you to be happy, but we’re reaching the bounds of my maturity here.”

Buffy sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I – did you just say you love Spike?”

“Let’s not dwell on that.”

She almost managed a genuine smile. “Well, um – I guess I should go make some calls. I’ll take the first flight I can get.” She hesitated for a moment, glancing at the door and then back at him like she was waiting for him to say something that would change her mind. “Anyway, thanks for everything.”

She pulled him into a tight hug, her face pressed into his chest. His arms encircled her, and he couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d held her like this, the last time she’d sought his comfort. The day Spike had burned up in the Hellmouth.

As they broke apart, he said, “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and Spike.”

“No, you’re not.” She hesitated, and a strange expression crossed her face. “But thanks for saying it.”

*****

Fred made tsk tsk noises as she finished wrapping Spike’s arm. He’d refused a plaster cast, claiming that vampire healing made it unnecessary, but had submitted to an Ace bandage and a sling. When she was finished, she took his reddened hands in hers and sighed.

“The abuse these poor appendages have seen,” she teased him. “Do you want me to do anything for the burns?”

Spike shook his head. “Be gone in a day or so. Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“You try to keep up with your exercises now, best you can. Don’t want everything to stiffen up after all that work you did.”

“You mean Donkey Kong?” He smiled. “Yeah, real hardship, that is.”

“Well, keep it up,” she repeated, escorting him out of the lab. As he headed for the elevator, she called after him, “And try not to do any more damage!”

As he waited for the elevator, Spike couldn’t help the little grin that crept onto his face. Fred somehow always managed to cheer him up. His good mood faded almost immediately, though, when the elevator doors opened to reveal Angel.

“I was just looking for you,” he said, in a voice that commanded obedience, the likes of which Spike hadn’t heard since they were both soulless. “Get in.”

Warily, Spike stepped in the elevator and pressed the button for the garage. He needed to get out of this place, go home to his rat-hole apartment, where at least he’d have some peace and quiet. Maybe a drink or six to clear his head.

Angel, apparently, had other plans. Abruptly, he reached over and yanked the elevator’s red emergency stop button.

“What the hell are you doing?” Spike sputtered, as the elevator came to a stop between floors with a sickening lurch.

“We need to talk.”

“We really don’t.”

“I want to talk about Buffy.”

“Oh, here we go.” Spike rolled his eyes. “Gonna tell me I’m a bad influence? I should stay away from her? Heard it all before, mate. Besides, I’m not the one you need to be telling it to. Never wanted her here in the first place.”

“No kidding. You’ve been pushing her away ever since she got here. You think being mean to her is gonna hurt any less than whatever you think will happen if you’re actually honest with each other?”

“None of your business, that.”

“Well, I’m making it my business.”

“Why?”

“Because I love her. And because you’re an idiot.”

“Leaving her alone was the only smart thing I ever did,” Spike said.

“Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear giving you advice about Buffy, but I’ve been on the loved-and-lost boat a few times now.” Spike snorted at that, but Angel continued, undeterred. “You know how Cordelia came back, for that one day?”

Spike nodded. “The coma thing.”

“Yeah. The thing is, I loved her. And she loved me. But we waited too long, and we never got a chance to be together, to see if we could make it work.”

“You do have a thing for cheerleaders, don’t you?” Spike said, his mouth curving into a smirk.

“Shut up,” Angel replied, the words coming out almost like a reflex. “The point is, you have a second chance with Buffy. And you’re this close to blowing it because you can’t get your head around the fact that she loves you.”

Spike’s head snapped up, and he studied Angel’s face for any sign of insincerity. He found none.

“Oh, come on,” Angel said, when he didn’t respond right away. “Don’t make me spell it out for you. She’s here, for crying out loud! Doesn’t that tell you something?”

He pressed the emergency stop button back into place, and the elevator jerkily came to life. Having said his piece, Angel stood back and relaxed, as though this were a perfectly normal elevator ride. Spike stared at him in disbelief.

When the elevator stopped at Angel’s floor, he stepped out, then turned back to look at Spike. “Oh, and when you talk to her, do me a favor and tell her I was really mature about the whole thing.”

*****

Buffy’s eyes flickered open, and she took in the unfamiliar shadows of the Wolfram & Hart guest suite’s bedroom, all tilted ninety degrees from her vantage point with her head on her pillow. The glow of the digital alarm clock by her bedside told her it was still the middle of the night, and she tried to figure out what had woken her up. Then, she felt it.

Felt him.

She eased herself up to a sitting position and directed her words to the dark shadow in the corner of the room. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you – the stalking thing? Not really a turn-on.”

He stepped toward her, slipping out of the shadows to hover at the foot of the bed. The duster was gone, and his left arm was in a sling. “Might’ve heard that before, yeah. But I’m not really one to learn from my mistakes.”

“Sit,” she said, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp. He obeyed silently, perching at her feet, head bowed as he fiddled with the dressings on his arm. When he didn’t speak right away, she said, “I know you’re a creature of the night and all, but I do have an early flight tomorrow. I should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” he said. “About that.” Her breath caught in her throat and she stilled, waiting – hoping – for him to tell her not to go, to give her a reason to stay. “Why did you come here?” he asked finally.

“I needed to see you.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Listen, what you said today –”

“I’m sorry,” he cut in. “I’m a jerk. I shouldn’t have –”

“No. No, you were right. Why should you have believed me? I wasn’t even sure I believed it until you were…” She swallowed hard, not meeting his eyes. “Okay, so I’m stupid and emotionally stunted or – or whatever, and maybe you’re right. Maybe I didn’t get it back in Sunnydale.” She glanced up, her expression pleading. “But I’m here now, and you’re here, and neither one of us is dying, and I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Even in the dim light, she could see the myriad of emotions flicker across his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again without saying anything. Sighing, he stood up and walked over to the window, silhouetted against the twinkling lights of the city below.

Buffy climbed out of bed and padded across the room to stand next to him, slipping her hand tentatively into his. “I don’t understand why you’re still pushing me away.”

“Finally made things right, didn’t I? After everything, we were – I don’t know what we were, but it was the best we’d ever been. Gave you everything I could, said our goodbyes, and that was supposed to be the end.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” Closing her eyes, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Softly, she asked, “What are you so afraid of?”

“Dying was – easier, you know?” He glanced down at their joined hands, and then at her. “Meant I didn’t have a chance to screw it up again.”

Buffy lifted her head, pulling him around to face her. “Is that what you meant, back then? When you said you were terrified?”

“Part of it, yeah. I don’t know how to do this, with you. And if I screw up –”

“It’s not the end of the world,” she finished for him, cupping his face in her hands so he had to meet her eyes. “You probably will screw up. And so will I. But we’ll get through it.” She paused, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “Or maybe we won’t. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. I missed out on whatever we could’ve had in Sunnydale because I was afraid to try. I was afraid to let it mean something. And then you were gone, and I’d missed my chance.”

Spike let out a small chuckle. “Angel said the same thing.”

Buffy furrowed her brow. “He did?” And once again she was wondering exactly what Angel meant when he said he loved Spike.

“Not about – never mind. Point is, he told me not to miss my chance. Except he called me names while he was doing it.”

“I could call you names if you want,” she said with a grin, sliding her arms around his neck.

“I have a better idea,” he said, and then he was kissing her.

*****

“So Angel and I go charging in, swords drawn and all that. And then the P'dufa demon – have you ever seen a P'dufa demon?”

She gave him a sleepy smile and shook her head. They were lying on Buffy’s bed, curled into each other with her head resting on Spike’s shoulder and his good arm wrapped around her, idly playing with her hair as he talked. It was nearly four a.m. but she couldn’t bear to go to sleep, not when Spike was here and they’d missed so much during their time apart.

“P'dufa demons secrete this thick, black paste, like pitch. Nasty stuff. So it shoots its wad right at Angel, yeah? And he tries to keep on running, but his feet are stuck to the ground!” Spike chuckled at the mental image. “So while he’s cursing and hollering – impotent as usual – I sneak up behind the thing and take its head off in one fell swoop.”

She studied him for a moment, then she grinned. “You totally got slimed, didn’t you?”

The look of indignation on his face was priceless. “Damn P'dufa guts spurted out of its neck like a bloody faucet!”

“So what about the children? Did you find them?”

“Sure did. Once we pried our shoes out of the pitch, we started exploring the cave, and there they were.”

“In another sticky puddle of demon gunk?”

“Got it in one.” A smile crept onto his face at the memory. “It was worth it, though. Seeing the parents’ faces when we brought back their little ones…”

“Angel was right,” she said, marveling at his enthusiasm. “You really do like this champion thing.” Making the big, noble sacrifice was one thing, but she hadn’t expected Spike to take to the day-to-day hero stuff.

“Champion,” Spike repeated with disdain. “Makes it sound so poncy. But it’s been good, yeah. Like taking the training wheels off this soul of mine. Not that I haven’t made a fool of myself a time or two, but I’m starting to figure things out, you know, on my own.”

“Out of my shadow,” she said quietly. She thought back to the girl in the warehouse, how Spike hadn’t hesitated to help her, hadn’t waited for Buffy to take the lead. Maybe he needed that space. “I understand.”

“You – what?” Spike pulled away and stared at her for a moment, then his furrowed brow slowly smoothed as realization dawned. “You’re still getting on that plane.”

She nodded. “I have responsibilities. Dawn. My slayers. I’m training a squad in Rome. I can’t just abandon them.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “And I can’t ask you to come with me. I see that now. You were right, the other day. I did expect you to just… follow me. I thought I could show up and take you back to Rome like nothing had changed. But what you’re doing here –” She took a deep breath, scarcely able to believe she was saying this. Was she really going to give up Spike, so soon after she’d found him again? “It’s important, and you should see it through.”

“It’s not that important, really,” he protested half-heartedly.

“No, but it is!” Buffy pushed herself up, sitting cross-legged so she could face him. “Okay, see, you’re cookie dough, and you’re not done baking –”

“Ohhh, no,” Spike groaned. “Angel told me about this. You can eat cookie dough, you know. Lots of people do it.”

“That’s not the point!” She grabbed a pillow and swatted at him.

“Ow! Hey.” He held up his arm to block. “One-handed here.”

Buffy let the pillow fall back onto the bed and started running her fingernail along the hem of the sheet, growing serious again. “You know I’m right about this, Spike.”

He sighed. “Yeah, it’s nice, being here, finding out who I am when I don’t have someone to guide me. But – it’s nothing I can’t give up to be with you.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t. That’s not fair. You should – you should have this. I’m not going anywhere. Or, well, I am, but I mean, emotionally, I’ll still –”

“I get it, Buffy,” he said softly, and she could read the acceptance in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, either.”

“You and Angel can… bond or something.”

“Brilliant,” he muttered as he gathered her back into his arms. “Buffy, your flight’s in a few hours. Couldn’t you at least put it off for a bit and –”

“That’ll only make it harder.” She leaned over and kissed him with everything she had. “I love you. And when you’re ready, you know where to find me.” She smiled, blinking back tears. “But let’s try not to go so long between visits next time, okay?”

*****

the end