PART FIVE
 
Buffy accepted Giles’s offer to drive Dawn home while she patrolled. No one mentioned that Anya had remained in the store when they all left. Nor that she had expressed no interest in where Xander had gone.  Buffy waved goodnight and turned toward the outskirts of town where most of the newer cemeteries were located.  The older ones had long since been surrounded by residential areas, but she walked through a couple of them just in case. There were still some family plots in which there was the occasional new grave.
 
She avoided Restfield and any chance of meeting it’s most mobile resident, concentrating on those graveyards the farthest away from anywhere she was likely to run into Spike.  Although, common sense and her knowledge of his habits told her he had probably gone to directly to Willy’s and was well on his way to being thoroughly drunk.
 
She went about her patrol in a businesslike fashion, no quips, no toying with her prey, just staking them and moving on.  She tried very hard not to notice the empty space on her left – a space that she’d become unused to even before the spell that had made Randy her constant companion.  When she felt she’d done enough slaying for one night, she turned her feet toward home, stopping herself when she noticed that she’d automatically headed for the apartment, not the house on Revello. She gave an involuntary whimper before turning around and setting off in the right direction.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Contrary to what Buffy had pictured, Spike stayed at Willy’s only long enough to get into a fight with three of the loan shark’s newest minions. After dusting them all, he grabbed two bottles of whiskey off the bar and, ignoring Willy’s outraged shouts, walked out.  He went directly to his crypt, gulping from the open bottle as he walked.  One look at his face was enough to send the few other vamps or demons he encountered hastening away. He didn’t bother to try to chase them, just snarled and kept drinking.
 
Not bothering with candles, Spike entered his home and slammed the door shut behind him.  The first bottle was already empty, and he threw it against the wall, taking some small satisfaction from the destruction.  He dropped into the bedroom and fell backwards onto the bed, already tilting the second bottle up to his mouth.  The bed cover still smelled faintly of Buffy’s presence, and he inhaled deeply until he couldn’t distinguish her scent from his own anymore.
 
By the time he’d emptied the second bottle of whiskey, the pain had dulled enough that he could think about the past few weeks without wanting to kill Willow.  Rather than dwelling on how much he’d like to chain the witch up for several days of creative torture, he tried to be grateful for the time he’d had with Joan and the memories of how much they’d loved each other.
 
He fell asleep murmuring to himself about the scent of Buffy’s hair and remembering the feel of her skin sliding over his as they made love over and over again in their rented bed. 
 
~~~~~~~~~
 
The house on Revello Drive was not a happy place to be living in the aftermath of the spell. Dawn wasn’t sure who she was most angry at – Willow, for doing the spell or Buffy for refusing to admit what it had shown her about Spike and how much they belonged together. In spite of Dawn’s pleas to give him a chance, Buffy continued to maintain that she and Spike had “too much baggage” to just pick up where Joan and Randy left off.
 
“You just don’t get it, Dawn,” she said, trying to control her irritation at Dawn’s refusal to drop the subject.
 
“You’re right! I don’t  get it. You know he loves you just as much as ‘Randy’ did – maybe more.  And don’t even try to tell me you don’t love him. You’ve been a complete bitch to everybody since the spell broke.  You’re taking it out on us because you won’t let yourself be happy.”
 
“He’s soulless, Dawn!  He’s only safe because of that chip.”
 
“Which he didn’t have when he used to come here to cry on Mom’s shoulder and make faces at me. Or when he made a truce with you to save the world. Admit it, Buffy, Spike is not an average vampire.  Maybe Angel needs a soul to behave like a decent person, but Spike doesn’t. And he never has. You’re just being stupid.”
 
Dawn flounced off to her room, leaving Buffy with nothing to take out her anger on but a sink full of dirty dishes. Deciding it would be in the dishes’ best interest for her not to do them just then, she grabbed her jacket and some stakes and went off to find vampires that knew how they were supposed to behave without souls.
 
She brushed past Willow on her way out, exchanging monosyllabic greetings that neither of them listened to.  If pressed, she might have admitted that she was sorry it was Tara who had moved out and not the woman responsible for her latest unhappiness.
 
Because, in spite of her denials to Dawn, she was unhappy. She missed Spike – not just Randy, but Spike, the vampire she’d first told about having been in Heaven.  The one who’d sung to her about how much his heart was breaking, the one she’d kissed so desperately in the alley behind the Bronze, and then run away from for the second time in one night. He had become a fixture in her miserable life long before she found herself living with him. She missed him, but she refused to admit that it was her worldview that was keeping them apart, not Spike’s inherent soullessness.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Maintaining her viewpoint that Spike’s soulless condition rendered him unsuitable for a slayer’s boyfriend became harder once Buffy had run into Tara at the coffeeshop.
 
“Hey,” Tara said, her uncertainty obvious. “It’s good to see you, Buffy.”
 
“You too. I—we miss you around the house. Dawn especially.” Buffy shrugged and looked mildly ashamed. “I think you’re closer to her idea of a mother figure than I am,” she admitted. “You left a pretty big hole when you left – and not just because none of the rest of us can cook actual, you know, edible food.”
 
Tara gave a soft laugh and smiled her appreciation, then sobered. “I miss you guys, too,” she said. “But I just can’t…” She shook her head. “My problem, I guess.  Tell Dawn I’ll call her and we’ll make a date to have lunch and movie.”
 
“She’ll like that.” Buffy smiled and sighed. “I guess you’re still mad at Willow, huh?”
 
Tara squeezed her eyes shut for a second and shuddered. “I was mad, at first. Now I’m just so… so disappointed and torn.  I tried to talk to her once, but she just refused to understand how wrong it was of her to do that to me.  After Glory and… She just doesn’t get it. It was all about how unhappy she was that I was mad at her… I hope she’s going to let Giles help her. I can’t do it.”
 
“She really loves you,” Buffy said. In spite of her own anger at Willow, loyalty to her old friend forced her to speak in Willow’s defense.
 
“I know she does. And I still love her. I just don’t think I can be with anyone I can’t trust.”
 
Buffy nodded. “Trust is really important.  I was just trying to explain that to Dawn. That I can’t be with—Never mind. I get that. You have to be able to trust your…. whatever.”
 
“He loves you too, you know.” Tara made no attempt to pretend she didn’t know whose name Buffy wasn’t saying. “Just as much as Randy did.  And I think you can trust him, Buffy. He would never do anything to hurt you… or Dawn.”
 
Buffy sighed. “You’re probably right.  He wouldn’t hurt us. Or you, or… But you know what? I’m the Slayer. It’s the rest of the world I have to worry about. I have to be able to trust him not to hurt anybody. And I don’t think—”
 
“Do you think Spike doesn’t know that?” Tara said, her eyes sympathetic, but her expression disapproving.  “I think he does.”
 
Buffy gave Tara a sharp glance. “Have you seen him?”
 
“Just for a few minutes last week.”
 
“How… how was he?” Buffy tried to keep her voice casual and her expression one of mild curiosity.
 
“Drunk.”
 
Buffy snorted. “That’s my vampire.” She rolled her eyes and smiled, then realized what she’d said. “Not that he’s… not my  vampire, of course. I just…”
Tara ignored her and shook her head. “Give him a chance, Buffy. If Joan could love him as much as she did, I think Buffy could learn to love him.  I’ve got to go,” she added, glancing at the time. “Tell Dawn I’ll call her tonight to set up something for this weekend.”
 
Buffy waved her hand and picked up her latte. “It was good to see you, Tara.” She buried her mouth in the foamy goodness in front of her and tried not to think about Spike and/or what he might be doing without her.
 
~~~~~~~~~~
 
“Seriously?”  Buffy put her hands on her hips and glared at the demon hiding behind several newly turned thuggish-looking vampires
 
 blocking her way home. She waved her hands around. “Spike’s not here. Your kittens are long gone. Give it up. I’m not giving them back, and I’m not going to let you kill him, so just get over it.”
 
“I want you to stop him from killing my employees,” the demon said. “If he stops killing them every time he sees one, I’ll forget about the kittens he owes me.”
 
“Your employees arevampires.You know, those things I slay every night? Why would I ask Spike to leave them alone?” Her glare was sufficient to keep said vampires from coming any closer to the girl arguing with their boss.
 
“Because it’s in his best interest to do it. My quarrel isn’t with you, Slayer. It’s your boyfriend. You keep him under control or I will.”
 
“Excuse me?” Buffy was so astonished at the threat that she forgot to insist that Spike wasn’t her boyfriend.  “Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to let you kill him? Weren’t you listening?”
 
“You won’t always be around, Slayer.  In fact, I hear that he’s by himself quite a bit now that you’ve moved back into your house. Just give him my message,” Teeth finished, signaling his men to leave with him. Rather than respond, Buffy quickly staked two of his henchmen and beheaded a third.  She turned toward Teeth, sword hanging loosely in her hand.
 
“How about I give you a message?” she said as he retreated. “I have a problem with demons that make threats about people I… know. I suggest you leave Spike alone.”  As Teeth hastened away as quickly as something his size and shape could, Buffy called after him, “I have one word for you… sushi.”
 
She kicked at the dust left by his minions and grumbled to herself. “Stupid fish demon. Stupid gambling vampire. Maybe I should warn Spike….” She shook her head and set off for home.  “No, he’ll be fine. If he thinks I’m worried about him he’ll just… Nope. No warnings. He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
 
~~~~~~~~~
 
 
 
The tense atmosphere in the small house lasted until the afternoon that Buffy woke up to the sound of muffled sobbing coming from what used to be her mother’s bedroom.  It was the fourth day in a row that Willow had been unable to hide her pain, and as Buffy’s anger had faded, her innate ability to forgive was kicking in. With a deep sigh, she got up and padded barefoot down the hall to knock on Willow’s door. The crying stopped, and after a few seconds she heard a tentative “come in?”
 
Willow raised swollen eyes to Buffy, frowning when she saw more warmth looking back at her than she had since before Buffy died.  “Bu…Buffy?”
 
“Hey, Will.”  There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Buffy came in and sat cross-legged on the bed, facing her oldest friend.  They exchanged stares for a few seconds before simultaneously reaching across the space in an awkward hug.  Laughing and crying at the same time, Willow sat back and blew her nose.
 
“I really screwed up this time, didn’t I?” She looked as if she hoped or expected Buffy to contradict her, but Buffy only nodded and sighed.
 
“You kind of did.  I know you weren’t planning to hurt anybody, but….”
 
“Everybody hates me.”
 
“Nobody hates you, Will.  They’re just all really, really mad and trying to figure out what to do next.”
 
“Tara hates me,” Willow said, her voice breaking.  “Xander hates me. Giles hates me.”  She gave Buffy a mournful look. “You and Spike must really hate me.”
 
“I don’t hate you, Will.  I’m not happy that it happened, but you know, I had three weeks of being part of a very happy, almost normal, couple – and how many times in my life can I say that happened, huh?”
 
“But it was just a spell. Just like last time, when you and Spike thought you were getting married. It wasn’t real.”
 
Buffy shook her head. “The spell is what made us not remember who we are. It had nothing to do with us being in love. We did that by ourselves. It’s just like you and Tara – without her memory that she was mad at you for using magic on her, she went right back to being with you. Even though you thought you were dating Xander, the real relationship stuff came out.”  Buffy frowned for a moment. “I’m not sure what that theory says about Giles and Anya… or poor Xander.”
 
“Are you saying you really are in love with Spike?” Willow’s voice climbed an octave as she contemplated that thought, but she tried to look properly non-judgmental. She relaxed when Buffy shook her head.
 
“I’m sure Spike really is – I mean, I already knew that last year. I don’t know why I…” She shrugged. “I don’t know what I feel. The way Joan felt about Randy is all mixed up with all the history between me and Spike. I really was spending a lot of time with him after I came… back. He’s easy to be with, he doesn’t push me to pretend I’m happy…” She saw Willow wince at the reminder, but continued,  “I’m… comfortable around him. I kinda miss him when he isn’t around. Which he hasn’t been. I haven’t seen him since the spell ended. Not that I’ve been looking,” she added quickly. “I know it’s going to be awkward for awhile, and I’d just as soon put it off as long as I can.”
 
“Buffy, it’s Spike. No soul, only safe because he’s chipped, steals from us Spike.”
 
Buffy shrugged. “I’m not saying I want to go back to living with him. I’m just saying…” She stopped talking and sat up straighter. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Of course, it’s just Spike. It would be wrong. I know that. I’m not crazy.”
 
Willow looked at Buffy as if she wasn’t sure about that, but offered, “If he makes you happy… happier about… then maybe…?”
 
“Randy made Joan happy,” Buffy said firmly. “Spike and Buffy is a very different thing. Not that it’s a thing! It’s not a thing! It’s a different… okay, relationship wouldn’t be a good choice either…” She sighed and threw up her hands.  “Maybe if he’d talk to me, I’d know what to call it.” Neither Buffy nor Willow acknowledged that Buffy had just said she didn’t want to talk to him yet.
 
“He won’t talk to you?” Willow was appropriately indignant on Buffy’s behalf.
 
“I haven’t even seen him to find out if he’s talking to me.  Or felt him.  Usually I know if he’s skulking around watching me, but I don’t think he is.  I don’t know where he is. It’s weird.”
 
“So, you’ve tried to find him and you can’t?” Willow frowned. “Where have you looked? It’s not like he doesn’t stand out in a crowd…” Her face paled. “You don’t suppose—” She hastened to change her question when Buffy gave a terrified gasp and put her hand to her mouth. “…that he went away for awhile,” Willow continued. “That’s all I was going to say. Maybe he took a little trip to clear his head. That’s all. I didn’t mean that he—”
 
“But what if he did?  What if Teeth wasn’t….”
 
“Teeth?” 
 
“Big ugly demon, head like a shark. Spike owes him money – or kittens, or something. Anyway, he said he’d….”
 
Ignoring Willow’s attempt to apologize for the thought now firmly lodged in Buffy’s head, she jumped up. “I’ve got to go.  We can talk some more when I get home. ‘k? Bye!”  Buffy dashed back to her own room, threw on some clothes and ran out the door.  She ran all the way to Restfield, only slowing as she neared Spike’s crypt.  That something might have happened to him hadn’t really occurred to her until Willow almost said it. It hadn’t really bothered her that he wasn’t around – except in the sense of missing his presence in her life – because she didn’t know what she wanted to say to him anyway, and avoiding him had seemed like the best way to not deal with it.
 
Now, as she stood outside the slightly ajar doors, she let sink in the full impact of what it would mean to her if he’d dusted while she was busy waiting to be ready to see him.  With a little moan of apprehension, she pushed the door open and let herself in, standing just inside and trying to adjust to the dim interior.  There were no lights anywhere and except for some broken glass and a slight scent of booze, no sign that anyone had been there since the night she and Randy had explored the crypt.
 
She leaned over the dark entrance to the lower level, calling softly, “Spike? Are you here?” but receiving no answer.  Cursing silently that she hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight or matches, Buffy gave up trying to see anything.  She checked the fridge, but found nothing but the Diet Cokes and waters that had been sitting there since long before the memory-loss spell. No new containers of blood on the shelves, and no sign that Spike had been there recently.
 
She sank down to the dusty floor, leaning against a stone sarcophagus with her head in her hands. She was fighting the urge to cry when a noise at the door brought her to her feet.
 
“Spike?”
 
“No, Slayer. It’s me. Clem. You remember me? We met before when you let all our kittens loose.”
 
“Where’s Spike?” she demanded, completely uninterested in making polite small talk with a demon. 
 
“I guess he’s at the apartment,” Clem said, his surprise obvious. “Isn’t that where you guys live? We were talking about going out tonight, but I have a date. I just stopped by here in case he was hanging out, waiting for me.”
 
“Apartment. Right. We have an apartment. Where we live. I knew that.” Buffy brushed past Clem, barely acknowledging his “Will you tell him I can’t make it tonight?” as she took off running again. 
 
Her progress was delayed several times as the rapidly developing dusk meant having to stake all the eager-beaver vamps she ran into while dashing past cemeteries on her way to where she’d been so happy for such a short period of time.  There was a light on in the window of their apartment, and Buffy stopped to sigh with relief and catch her breath. When she felt she had her breathing under control, if not her pounding heart, she entered the building and ran up the familiar stairs.
 
The apartment door was slightly ajar, making it irrelevant that she hadn’t brought the key with her.  She approached silently, shaking her head at herself as she remembered that Spike would be able to hear or smell her long before a human would have known she was there.  She pushed the door open and entered, pretending to be surprised when she found Spike stuffing tee-shirts into a bag.
 
“Whatcha doing?” she said, striving for casual, but knowing her face and pounding heart were giving her away.  He looked up at her, his warm gaze going over her hungrily before he caught himself and made his own attempt at being casual.
 
“Lease is up in a couple of days. Figured I’d best get my things out of here before they get put out on the street.”  He straightened and looked around the room. “S’pose that’s why you’re here?” he asked in as offhand a manner as he could manage. “To start bringing your stuff home?”
 
“Uh… yeah. Sure. That’s just what I was thinking… Get my stuff, and you’ll get your stuff, and we’ll just… just take our stuff…”
 
“Right then. Well, I’d best get out of your way.  I’ll come back tomorrow night to get the books and what-not.”
 
Buffy gazed around the little home they’d made, remembering the night they’d cracked the coffee table, noting the curtains she’d insisted he had to help her pick out. She glanced at the coordinating bedspread and the unmade bed. She looked from the bed to Spike, understanding dawning even as she avoided his eyes.  When she didn’t speak to him, he picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder.
 
“See you around, Slayer.”
 
“You weren’t at your crypt,” she said to his back.  He stopped moving, turning to stare at her.
 
“My crypt?”
 
“You weren’t there. I haven’t seen you.  I thought maybe… I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there,” she repeated, as if that explained everything.
 
“Did you need me for something?” His face was a mask of simple curiosity.  “Is there a Big Bad needs arse-kicking?”
 
“I…” She stared at him helplessly. I need you. 
 
“Buffy?  What’s wrong, love?” He set the duffle bag down and waited.
 
“Have you been staying here? Is that why I couldn’t find you?”  She looked around, now noticing the beer bottle on the sink, the blood container in the kitchen trash.  Her eyes went back to the wrinkled bed.  Spike followed her gaze to the bed and sighed.
 
“It smells like you,” he said with a shrug.  “Smells like us.” He waited for her to speak, to say something that would destroy the illusion he’d been living, but she just continued to stare at the bed.
 
“Slayer?” When she didn’t answer, he sighed again and picked up his bag of clothes. “I’ll just get out of your way then.” He started toward the door, pausing when he heard a very faint, “Randy?”
 
He froze, one hand on the doorknob.  Turning his head slowly, he met her eyes and swallowed hard.  “Don’t,” he said. “Not unless you mean it.”
 
“J…Joan means it,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Buffy is… Buffy is confused.” Her voice got stronger. “But tonight, when I thought something might have happened to you…” She glared at him. “Don’t ever to that to me again! Don’t you ever stay away from me like that!”
 
He set his bag down and walked toward her slowly. “Why not? Not like you were worried, is it?”
 
“Yes… no!... yes… Don’t you ever hide from me again! I needed to… and you weren’t there, and I didn’t—”Her voice broke and she dropped her head to stare at the floor. In a much softer tone she said, “That’s not really what I’m trying to say. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just so afraid…”
 
He cupped her cheek, raising her face to meet his gaze. “It’s alright, Slayer. I think I got it the message.” He smiled into her eyes. “I love you too.”
 
With a sigh of resignation, she slumped against him, letting his arms hold her up as she sniffled into his shoulder. “That’s what I meant to say. I just couldn’t get it out.”
 
“You can work on it,” he said, “I’ve got time.”
 
She put her arms around him, squeezing until he winced.  “I missed you.”
 
“Missed you too, love. More than I’d like to admit.”  He straightened up and smiled down at her. “So, what brought on this sudden concern for my well-being?”
 
“Oh, I was telling Willow about not knowing where you were, and she said maybe you… and then she tried to say that’s not what she meant, but then I remembered that Teeth said… and I—” She looked up at him. “I need to go fillet a fish. Just to be safe.”
 
He laughed and picked her up, swinging her around and around until they were both dizzy.  “If he’s what brought you back to me, I’m going buy him all the fresh seal meat he can eat.”
 
“Ewwww! And no you aren’t.”  She glanced out the window and said, “I guess I should go… Do you want to come with me? To The Magic Box?  I need to talk to Giles about Willow.”
 
“Right behind you, pet.” He kicked his duffle bag out of the way. “I’ll come back for that later.”
 
“I think you should keep staying here,” she said. “Teeth’s minions can’t get in here, so it ‘s safer than your crypt.”
 
“We’ll talk about it later, love.  Let’s go get the witch sorted out.”
 
Locking the door behind him, Spike took her arm and guided her to the stairs.  They wore matching smiles as, for the first time in weeks, they strode through Sunnydale together as its lethal guardians.