X

Buffy froze. She couldn’t have moved if she’d thought to – which didn’t matter – because her brain was as paralyzed as her legs. Her eyes were large and unblinking, but she couldn’t see anything in front of her.
 
She came back to herself within seconds and felt altogether differently. Hot. Sick. Restless. Her heart was beating like a frightened bird’s, and she was suffocating at the bottom of a thousand thoughts. Her eyes were blinking mechanically now, but all she could see was red.
 
“That’s enough touring, I think.” Her voice was deeper than normal, and quivered slightly. “The rest of the house is pretty standard. Bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom, backyard. Help yourself to whatever beer you can find.”
 
“Buffy-“
 
“I’m going to take a shower.”
 
“Love-“
 
“I’ve been knee deep in penis eggs, suffocated by the smoke of a burning house, beat up – though in all fairness I started that fight, and head deep in a shitty car – literally. I’m taking a shower.”
 
She didn’t flee. With a breeziness that betrayed none of the storm inside her, Buffy stepped past Spike, ascended the stairs, and walked to her bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her.
 
After peeling off her clothes and slipping into her robe, she grabbed her cell phone from the top of her dresser and headed straight to her bathroom. The bathroom had doors to each of the bedrooms. She locked them both. After switching on the radio to full volume, she turned the shower on to run cold.
 
“London,” she spoke harshly into her phone. The line rang five times, and with every ring, Buffy’s feelings condensed further into a simmering rage. 
 
“Hello?” A sleepy voice answered.
 
“Willow, it’s me.”
 
“Buffy? I can hardly hear you… Are you at a club or something?”
 
“I’m at home. That’s the radio. And I’m not turning it down.”
 
“Okay. Well… what’s up? It’s pretty late. Have you forgotten your time zones already?”
 
“Tell me you didn't know about Spike.” It was an order, not a plea.
 
“What?... Oh, no. Did he bite Xander again? Cause I told Andrew he needs to keep him on the leash when-“
 
“What are you talking about?” Buffy didn’t hide the irritation on top of her fury.
 
“Andrew's dog.”
 
“Andrew has a dog named Spike?!” She was getting more irritated by the second.
 
“Oh, yeah. He got him a year ago, so I guess you wouldn't have seen him. He's a little blond labradoodle, and soooo adorable. He found him wandering the streets of London wreaking havoc on the populace and decided it was his duty to redeem him. It's very cute…Wait, who did you mean?”
 
“The other Spike, Willow.”
 
“The delivery guy from Thai-rrific?”
 
“No, Willow. The other one.” Buffy couldn’t believe her own patience.
 
“Oh. Huh? Wait. You mean…Spike-Spike? Like, William the Bloody, Spike?”
 
Buffy rolled her eyes in disdain. “Tell me you didn't know he was alive, Willow.”

“Oh my goddess! He's come back human?!”
 
“No!” Buffy dropped the arm holding her phone to lean both hands against the sink. One deep breath was all she needed to compose herself again. “He's alive. As in undead. As in not dust. As in HERE.”
 
“Whoa. I didn't know Buffy, I swear. Also, I didn't do it, if that wasn't clear.”
 
Silence.
 
“You really didn’t know?”
 
“Buffy, of course not! Why would I keep something like that from you?”
 
Buffy didn’t answer.
 
“You know, I’d say this was unbelievable - Spike coming back - but…it’s not, really. I mean. We’ve certainly got experience with this sort of thing. Angel came back from Hell too.”
 
“Who said Spike was in hell?!”
 
“Nobody! Or, okay, I did, but-“
 
“Well he wasn’t!” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, so she was careful to lower it to below the radio volume again. “He died a HERO, Willow. He saved the WORLD.”
 
“Okay. I know, and I’m grateful for that, Buffy. Really. I’m just saying that he also wasn’t the first vampire to come back from… wherever, you know?”
 
Somehow, defending Spike had settled her a bit, and the knowledge that Willow really hadn’t known, cooled her fury. “Yeah, maybe he’s not the first. But Angel reappeared after a few months, not forty years.”
 
“True. So when did Spike come back exactly?”
 
“Oh, right. That’s the best part,” she responded with sarcasm. “He reappeared tonight, but he actually came back about three months after we closed the Hellmouth.”
 
“In Cleveland?”
 
“Sunnydale.”
 
“What?! Wait. That means he’s been alive – er, undead – this whole time?”
 
“Yup.”
 
“Three months, you said?”
 
“Yup.”
 
“Like Angel,” she said pensively. “He was only gone three months, too. Huh. Like you too actually – although, okay – that wasn’t entirely unplanned. Still…interesting. I should look into that. “
 
“Is that really the most interesting part of this story?!” Back came the rage.
 
“Oh. I guess not. But Buffy, sorry, I’m confused. Are you just shocked or are you upset? Or are you just mad? And at who exactly? I think, mad. You sound mad.”
 
“This isn’t about being upset or mad! It’s about confusion! And… and betrayal! And being duped! And… secrets and lies! And ex-boyfriends laughing at me behind my back while they take me around on motorcycles and get me into bed!”
 
“Huh?”
 
“Maybe I’m mad at Angel. No, scratch that. Maybe I hate Angel.”
 
“Huh?”
 
“Oh, did I Ieave out that little tidbit? Angel knew all along! To quote Spike, ‘He’s always known.’ And still he wooed me and…  and seduced me…  and told me that we’d be together forever! And all the while he knew Spike was alive.”
 
“Maybe it wasn’t Angel’s secret to tell, Buffy.”
 
“Stop making sense!” Buffy covered her face with her free hand, as she leaned against the sink. Her voice fell to a pained whisper. “He didn’t tell me, Willow. He told Angel, who he hates, but he didn’t tell me. Why didn't he tell me? Does he resent me? Was I so horrible to him? Does he blame me for leaving him to burn in the Hellmouth? Did he want to forget me?
 
“Well… what would you have done if you’d known he was alive, Buffy?”
 
“What?”
 
“I mean… would you still have dated Angel?”
 
“That’s not the point.”
 
“No. You’re wrong. That’s entirely the point. It’s the Mount Fuji of points. And the fact that you can’t answer the question, is probably why he never told you.”
 
Buffy felt her insides curl up.
 
“You were everything to him, Buffy. Everything. The way Tara was everything to me.” Willow sighed wearily. “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t compare Spike with Tara. Sorry, but there’s no comparison. But I do compare him with me.”
 
“How?” She whimpered.
 
“He loved you, like I loved Tara. He was greedy and obsessive and self-destructive and manipulative. And he hurt you, like I hurt her. But he loved you, in the only way he knew how.” Willow paused. “I get that now. And… I kinda think he learned to be better at it that last year in Sunnydale. Like I did. Only I didn’t learn to love her better until she was gone.”
 
Thinking of Tara always affected Buffy. “I still miss her, Willow.”
 
“Don’t change the subject. Back to Mount Fuji.”
 
Buffy smiled sadly. Sometimes Willow could be amazingly selfless. Sometimes.
 
“So, can you really blame Spike for not telling you he was back? I mean, when you’re not even sure that you would’ve done anything about it?”
 
“That’s not-“ Buffy sighed. “It’s-“ She sighed again. “That was a lifetime ago, Willow. I can’t say what I would’ve done. There was a lot going on after Sunnydale collapsed. We had so much work to do. We still do. There wasn’t time to explore feelings.”
 
“Is there time now?”
 
“That’s just it! Too much time has passed! He obviously doesn’t care anymore. How could he? He hasn’t known me for decades, and he didn’t want to!” Buffy could feel a major pout coming on. “Why didn’t he want to?” She whined.
 
“Buffy, seriously. Why do you keep asking me these questions?”
 
“Because I don’t want answers from him that I won't like! You’re my friend. You can give me better answers. Like… like maybe he had amnesia and was living the life of a horror novelist or something, and… and only got his memories back last week. Or… or, maybe he was kidnapped by an underground fighting ring to be a demon gladiator! Ooh! Or maybe he got sucked into that alternate universe where you were a skanky vampire. Or… maybe he was living in the world without shrimp. Oh! Maybe he came back human after all, but then got vamped again and lost his soul, so he didn't want anyone to know.”
 
“Buffy…”
 
“Just tell me something like that.”
 
“Where is he now, Buffy?” Willow was beginning to sound exasperated.
 
“I don’t know. In the house somewhere.”
 
“Your house?!”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“He’s staying with you?!”
 
“Yeah, well...”
 
“So, he found you! Well, there ya go! He did come after you. Better late than never, right?”
 
“No, Willow. He didn’t find me. He didn’t even know I lived here. He came to hunt the penis lady and we ran into each other.”
 
“Oh. Wait… who?”
 
“Our apple-pie-loving demon from the Doublemeat in Sunnydale. Or a cousin, anyway.”
 
“Ew!”
 
“Yeah, and she’s still at large. Uh, no pun intended.”
 
“Again, ew. Okay, so he didn’t come looking for you. But that’s even better. The two of you found each other. So, he’s staying?”
 
“Just until he heals. We had a fight. Like, with each other.”
 
“Buffy, why-“
 
“Long story. He’s staying for the moment.”
 
“Well, that makes this telephone call even more ridiculous.”
 
“Sorry.”
 
“No you’re not. But I forgive you. Go talk to him, Buffy. I hate to pull the age card, but really, you’re too old for this shit.”
 
“Willow!”
 
“My mother’s gone, so no, I don’t kiss her with this mouth. And there are occasions –rare ones, mind you –where a potty mouth is in order. This is one such occasion.”
 
“Fine.”
 
“Good.”
 
“So… how are things at the Council?”
 
“Uh uh. We’re not having a debriefing now. It’s the middle of the night and you pulled me out of a deep sleep in the arms of a much prettier housemate than Spike. Warmer too.”
 
Buffy smiled. “Alright. Tell Amelia I said hello - you know, when she wakes up.”
 
“Will do. We can chat about work tomorrow. You can update me on the Dragvloks then, and I can give you the latest global reports – if you’re interested."
 
“I’m on a semi-sabbatical thingie, Willow. I’m not retired. Of course I’m interested.”
 
“Right. Okay. Good night Buffy.”
 
“Good night.”
 
“And good luck.”
 
“Yeah.”
 
*  *  *
 
Buffy hung up the phone with a deep sigh - suddenly noticing the radio for the first time since she’d called Willow. They were playing some horrible oldies song, and she moved to turn it off, but stopped herself. It would look too obvious. Best keep it on while she finished in the bathroom.
 
Turning the water to as hot as she could stand, she stepped into the shower to wash away the worst parts of the night. She must have been in the shower for over an hour, because the water turned cool after she’d finished conditioning her hair. Shivering through the cold as she rinsed out her conditioner, she jumped out quickly afterwards and slipped back into her robe. The last thing she wanted to do was blow dry her hair, because it took forever to dry, but she wasn’t about to let Spike see her with flat, stringy locks. After blowing and brushing her hair to a healthy sheen, she dabbed a bit of lip gloss on her lips and cheeks to keep that just-showered look.
 
“Spike?” She checked his bedroom first after unlocking the entrance from the bathroom. She noticed a small black bag on the bed she hadn’t seen before. It must have been on the bike.
 
Her living room was empty as well, and she was about to check the basement again, when she smelled cigarette smoke coming from the back porch.
 
She found him on her swinging chair eating a peach with one hand, and holding a glass of Shiraz in the other. A cigarette butt was still burning stubbornly in a makeshift ashtray at his feet.
 
“That’s not an ashtray.”
 
He didn’t turn to look at her. Just kept his eyes on her peach trees. “I’ll wash it, Slayer.”
 
“Don’t worry about it.”
 
He bit into his peach, and the sound drew her eyes away from his cigarette butt to his cheek bones… and to his jaw… and to his Adam’s apple as it moved when he swallowed. Spike always had a way of making everything he did with his mouth seem sinful.
 
“Good peach?”
 
“The best. Cause it’s not from a store. You know where it came from. Picked it yourself.”
 
“Good wine?”
 
“No.”
 
“Sorry.”
 
“I never thought I’d say this, Slayer, but that’s enough apologies for one night.”
 
This wasn’t going well. She thought about asking him if she could join him on the swing, but then remembered that it was her house and her stupid swing, so she took the empty space on the other side. He had stopped the swing once she’d sat down next to him, so she pushed off with her bare feet and got them swinging again.
 
“I see you found your room.”
 
“Yeah. Thanks for that. It’s a cozy room. Cozy house, too. A bit lonely, though, for only one person. Got friends in town?”
 
“No.”
 
Neither spoke for several minutes. Their eyes on the trees, they took turns restarting the swing. Finishing his peach, Spike threw the soggy pit into the bushes at the far end of the yard.
 
“Three months after we sunk Sunnydale, I appeared in Angel’s office at Wolfram and Hart. “
 
She turned to him suddenly - surprised by his confession. He was going to tell her. Had he heard her talking?
 
“Apparently, Angel had received a package with the amulet inside, and I materialized out of it. I was confused as all hell. And all I did was ask for you.”
 
Buffy felt her chest tighten. She opened her mouth to reply, but her voice caught in her throat. It was a good thing, perhaps. She didn’t want him to stop talking. He was speaking in a matter of fact way, so it was difficult to get a sense of what he was feeling. It didn’t help that he wouldn’t look at her. His eyes stayed focused on the trees.
 
“I wasn’t corporeal though. Couldn’t pick up a phone or anything. And I was trapped inside the Wolfram and Hart building for a while. Fred, the sweet Southern thing Angel was lucky to call a friend, she was the only one that cared. Tried to help me.”
 
Buffy felt a twinge of discomfort in her gut, but quickly pushed it away. She kept her eyes on him. He kept his eyes straight ahead. Why wouldn’t he look at her?
 
“In the end, I was made corporeal again and could leave the building. But there were things happening there. Or at least, I thought there were things I could do there. And Angel wanting me gone was reason enough to stay.“
 
He paused then, giving her the perfect opening to speak, but she was still wary. She wanted to hear more.
 
“Heard you went to Rome. Moved on. Had a Slayer army to deal with. Ended up actually going to Rome with Angel to do some business, and heard about you and the Immortal.”
 
Buffy’s eyes widened.
 
“Spike I-“
 
“Let me finish, Slayer. You’ll get your turn.”
 
Reluctantly, she closed her mouth.
 
“Saw you dancing in a club with the ponce. Was gonna go talk to you. But business got in the way again. And anyway, Andrew told us you were happy with the bastard, with your life, so there wasn’t much point disrupting it.”
 
“That’s enough.” She was going to murder Andrew. Slaughter him like a squealing pig.
 
He turned to her finally, his face a mask.
 
“I wasn’t in Rome, Spike.”
 
She saw his eyes widen slightly at that.
 
“I’ve had covers. Doppelgangers or whatever. Wait, are those evil? They weren’t evil. They were slayers. Girls who volunteered to impersonate me in a few cities around the world. It was a stupid safety measure. No, it was a selfish safety measure. Those girls were slayers, so they were always at risk; but they weren’t ready for the kind of risk that being me involved.”
 
“So that wasn’t you in Rome?” He still seemed skeptical.
 
“Well, I’ve been to Rome; but not immediately after Sunnydale. I was in Scotland. Another slayer was in Rome. She was dating the Immortal for information, or at least that had been the plan.  Andrew was instructed to tell everyone it was me. It’s possible that he didn’t trust you, if you were with Angel then. We weren’t sure about Angel’s allegiances until after his battle with the Black Thorn.”
 
“So you never dated the Immortal.” It wasn’t a question. He said it as if he were telling himself a truth. His jaw was tensed again and he looked murderous. He must’ve been thinking about slaughtering Andrew, too.
 
“I can’t believe you ever thought I would date someone like him, Spike. You of all people were supposed to know me better than that.”
 
He looked at her sternly. “What I knew and what I saw and heard didn’t add up, Slayer.”
 
“Well then, I can’t believe you were fooled by an impersonator,” she countered.
 
“There’s that word again. Fool,” he spat.
 
“Did I say it before?”
 
“My mistake.” He was back to staring at the trees. Was he angry with her?
 
“You were telling a story, Spike. I’m listening,” she said gently.
 
He sighed and took a sip from the wine that had remained untouched since she’d come outside. “So we went back to L.A. – both deciding to leave you be – and handled business there. Angel took on the Black Thorn. I fought with his crew. And the only two to make it out alive were the ones who were already dead.”
 
Buffy shut her eyes with the realization of Angel’s lie. “Angel told us he was the only survivor.”
 
“Well…” He swallowed. “I had already told Angel not to tell anyone I was back. Told Andrew as much too. As much as I hate to defend either of them now, there it is.”
 
Buffy wasn’t impressed. Angel wasn’t excused. And Andrew was bacon.
 
“So what happened afterwards?”
 
Spike finished his wine in one gulp before pouring another glass. “I left L.A. for good. Left California, the U.S. It would take too bloody long to recount the last forty years in one night, Buffy. I did my thing. Traveled everywhere. Fought demons. Helped the slayers out when I found them – though they never wanted the help, and usually tried to kill me. The White Hat stuff I did for free; but I found other ways to use my skills for profit.”
 
Buffy furrowed her brow and was about to ask how, when he pre-empted her.
 
“Relax, Slayer. Nothing sinister. Did some mediator work. Handy knowing Fyarl, you know. Did some bounty hunter work for the more harmless demons. Mercenary work, too. Even worked as a bodyguard, for demons and humans alike. But that was usually very temporary. Boring, but lucrative. Actually protected a slayer in Jordan for a good year. That was my longest bodyguard gig.”
 
“Really? Who?”
 
“You wouldn’t know her, love. The Council had contacted her family, but they sent the wankers packing. Didn’t want their little girl going off to some far off, godless place to do unladylike things. Wanted their girl to become a woman. Marry. But the local demons had gotten a sniff of her when she’d first shown her power. Got a taste of her, too. So the family hired guards, but all of the humans they’d hired got themselves killed. So…they decided to fight evil with evil.”
 
“What happened to her?”
 
“She left home without me one night.”
 
Buffy sighed.
 
“It was my fault. I should have trained her, should have let her fight. But that wasn’t what I’d been paid to do.”
 
“Spike, I’m so-“
 
“We had that conversation already, love. Anyway, that was my last gig as a protector. I stuck to hunting and killing after that. And saved up enough dosh to make some savvy investments.”
 
“What-“
 
“Another story for another day, pet.”
 
“So what brought you back to L.A. after all this time?”
 
“The Dragvloks.”
 
‘”Really?!”
 
“I killed a couple in Sydney that were hunting slayers. Easy pickings too, those slayers. That’s a bit of a worry. I’ve seen way too many slayers taken down of late. Figured I’d see what gramps had heard about their movements lately.”
 
“Angel.” Buffy lowered her head, still reeling from the betrayal. “So, you’ve been in contact with him over the years.”
 
“Only when necessary. Usually when he’d heard of a job that needed done. But he only gave me jobs outside the States.”
 
She looked up suddenly. “Did he ever mention me?”
 
Spike paused. “Rarely. And he never said much.” He looked away before he continued. “And I didn’t ask much either.”
 
Buffy wasn’t prepared for the nausea that overtook her. But she didn’t let it show on her face. She swallowed. Maybe she was hungry.
 
“Hungry?”
 
He turned his head to her, a questioning look on his face.
 
“I mean…do you feel like a bit of human food? A snack? I usually eat a little something after patrol.”
 
“I could eat a little something. What’ve you got?”
 
“I’ll go see. Just sit tight. I’ll be back in a minute.”
 
Buffy hastened to the kitchen to get some fresh air - which was weird, since she’d been outside - but she needed to breathe. She couldn’t make sense of her insides, and her brain was overwhelmed with the night’s revelations. Unable to focus on finding a proper snack, she grabbed an unopened bag of Cheetos and an extra wine glass. Taking three slow breaths, she managed to calm her stomach a little, before heading back outside.
 
“I’ve got cheesy goodness. Fresh Cheetos.”
 
“Bit of an oxymoron, innit, love?”
 
“Nope. They’re kinda like a symbol of my life. Long-lasting, but still fresh.”
 
“That would make a nice segue into your story, pet.”
 
Buffy met his eyes and smiled slightly, as she sat back down and opened the bag.
 
“First, nourishment.” She offered him the bag, and he dug his hand more than half way down to get some.
 
“Nothing but air in here. What a rip-off.”
 
“Yeah.  But it makes the few you get all the more sweet. Or, salty, I guess.”
 
Spike stuffed the whole handful in his mouth and spoke after one chew. “Spill.”
 
Buffy frowned disapprovingly at his eating habits, but she didn’t really care. “Spike, like you said, way too much has happened over the years for me to know where to start or what to include.”
 
“That’s not what I’m asking about Slayer, and you know it,” he mumbled, his mouth still full of Cheetos. Swallowing the last of it, he continued. “I know what you’ve been up to. Training Slayers. Preventing apocalypses. Saving the world twenty times over since I did it. The hero thing. Just tell me why you don’t look old enough to drink.”
 
She paused, looking him square in the eyes. “I’ll give you one guess.”
 
He looked at her closely for a moment, before opening his mouth slightly. “Willow.”
 
“Isn’t it always?” Buffy suddenly felt very tired.
 
Spike shook his head as if disappointed. “So what’d she do?”
 
It was Buffy’s turn to stare at the trees. “She’d already done it, Spike. The resurrection spell.”
 
“Bloody hell.”
 
“Yeah. Turns out, she had the power, but didn’t understand how to use it properly.”
 
“Sounds familiar. So the spell went wrong?”
 
“No. That’s just it. The spell went as planned. She just picked the wrong spell.”
 
Spike waited for her to explain further, so she shifted her eyes back to him.
 
“Look, I still don’t understand magic very well, but Willow did a lot of research after we realized I was the only one of us that wasn’t getting wrinkly around the edges. She went over the spell a hundred times - gave me a copy of it too.  I memorized it years ago.”
 
“So let’s hear it. Never did know what went down that night.”
 
Buffy exhaled. “Alright. It goes: ‘Osiris, keeper of the gate, maker of all fate, hear us. Before time, and after, before knowing and nothing, accept our offering. Know our prayer.’”
 
“Okay.”
 
“And then Willow said, ‘Osiris. Here lies the warrior of the people. Let her cross over. Osiris, let her cross over.’"
 
“Still not getting it, Slayer.”
 
“Do you know who Osiris was?”
 
“Sure. Egyptian Lord of the Dead. Of the Underworld.”
 
“Right. But he wasn’t just the Lord of the Dead. He was sometimes called the King of the Living. According to our sources, the ancient Egyptians considered the blessed dead “the living ones,” so he was King of the Blessed Dead, too. And…” She took another deep breath. “…He was said to be, and I quote, ‘permanently benign and youthful’. The Egyptians believed that the Kings of Egypt that associated with Osiris would gain eternal life after death through magic.”
 
“So… because she called on the permanently youthful Osiris…”
 
“She unknowingly asked him to grant me eternal life after death, and I was brought back in his image. In other words, forever young.”
 
“Bloody hell.”
 
“Yeah. And it seems the wording she chose reinforced the request. She declared me ‘the warrior of the people’. As in, the official and only. We think those words implied that I needed to remain in this realm for as long as the people required a warrior.”
 
“An immortal slayer.”
 
“A slayer without a retirement plan.”
 
Spike took a large gulp of his wine before setting it down and pouring her a glass. She took it gratefully.
 
“So what does Red have to say for herself?”
 
Buffy slumped in her seat, letting her head roll towards him. “She thinks I should be more grateful, but she doesn’t say as much. She’s told me that I’ve been blessed. Despite the fact that I have to watch everyone I love in the world age and die, she thinks I’ve been given a gift.”
 
“Bollocks.”
 
“And I’m not sure she thinks I deserve it.”
 
Spike looked at her intensely. “No one in the bleeding world could be more deserving, Buffy. You must know that.”
 
“Tell that to Willow. Actually, don’t. She’s bitter enough as it is, though she hides it well.”
 
“That bi-…” He swallowed the word. “Sorry, pet, but she does more harm than good with magic. I don’t know that the world needs all these chits dying left and right anyway. You were doin’an alright job on your own.”
 
“Maybe. But I was barely making a dent. I prevented some apocalypses, sure. But the world needs all the good guys it can get.” Exhaling, she continued. “Anyway, Willow’s magic has been restrained.”
 
“How?”
 
“Like you said, Spike. Another story for another day. And not a pretty one. Suffice it to say, she’s had to rely a lot more on that enormous frontal lobe of hers. Hence, taking over the Council from Giles.”
 
“I heard about him, love. I’m sorry.”
 
“Thanks. But no need to apologize. You didn’t do it… I did.”
 
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
 
“Do you know how he died?”
 
“No. Angel was never big with the details.”
 
“It was a vampire that got him in the end. A vampire I didn’t stop in time.”
 
“Buffy-“
 
“Do you know what he said when he died?”
 
He didn’t answer.
 
“He said, ‘It’s rather poetic… in a maudlin sort of way.’”
 
Spike furrowed his brow. “That’s it?”
 
“No,” she sighed. “He said more. It wasn’t quick.” She winced at the memory of how slowly Giles had died. “He said all the right things to me. He was loving and supportive and empowering - like he’d always been at the best of times. It was probably our greatest moment together.”
 
“He was like a father to you.”
 
“He was. He really was. With all the love and disillusionment and disappointment and forgiveness that involves. It took me a long time to forgive him for betraying you.”
 
He turned his head away from her then.
 
“He acknowledged your sacrifice in the end, you know. It was only then, that I really started to forgive him. But we were never close again. Not like high school.”
 
Spike turned back to her. “I never wanted to come between you and the Watcher, love.”
 
“I know. That’s what made you better than him that last year. He didn’t see it. I did.”
 
Spike blinked at her. Then he grabbed the bag of Cheetos from her hand.
 
“Stop hoggin’ ‘em Slayer.”
 
“I wasn’t-“
 
“Stop tellin’lies, you greedy bint.” He shoved his hand in the bag noisily and threw a handful into his mouth. The only sound in the night was his crunch.
 
Buffy couldn’t help but chuckle. She sat there watching him chew and swallow until his Adam’s apple stopped bobbing, before she spoke.
 
“So… think we should kill Andrew?”
 
Spike smiled with his eyes. “Tell you what… you snap his neck. Then let me drink.”
 
“Done,” she giggled, before snatching the bag of Cheetos back.

*  *  *

Author's Notes:
If you're reading puddinhead's story, "Yours, William", you may remember the special role that peaches played. Thanks for the beta work puddin', as always. :-)

For those of you wondering what labradoodles look like, here's a blond one: http://www.labradoodle.com.au/brandysadventure.html  

Do I need to ask you guys if you remember Buffy's famous quote about Cheetos? It's actually relevant. If you don't remember it, shame on you.  

Do I need to remind you guys about Andrew trying to slaughter the squealing pig in Season 7? Come on, people! Catch my references!  

Season 8 Comic Spoiler Alert: Those of you who read Season 8 will have noticed that I try to honor it somewhat. Those of you who don't read the comic, don't blame me for my plot choices. Just sticking to canon. ;-)