DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: It wouldn’t leave me alone. Had to write it: Buffy’s visit to Wolfram & Hart, cuz hey, it should have happened. Why is she there? Don’t worry about it. Just read and hopefully enjoy my take on the reunion of our two favorite blonds. Also, I had originally intended this to take place post “Destiny,” but thought maybe I might add a bit of a twist! Post “Hellbound.”

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In spite of his current status as CEO of the biggest--and yes, most evil--law firm in the universe, with his big comfy chair and impressive desk, Angel sat behind said desk in said comfy chair…and squirmed.

The cool glare he was currently receiving from a short, skinny blonde standing across from him was the cause. Buffy stood before him, arms crossed, hip cocked to the side as she regarded him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his demeanor. Her suspicious attitude was like a dull knife in Angel’s gut, and he mourned the fact that she really did no longer trust him.

After what seemed like several millennia, though he was quite sure only a few minutes had passed, Buffy’s posture began to relax, her eyes softening slightly and her arms dropping back down to her sides. Angel’s silent sigh of relief was not-so-silently echoed by the rest of his crew standing about in his office, causing the slayer to laugh a bit, and she turned around to address them.

“Relax, guys. It’s not like I’m going to slay you all for allying yourselves with some of the most wretched evil on this earth,” she deadpanned. Off their highly unamused faces, she continued in saying, “Kidding,” which brought on yet another wave of sighs.

“Wow, Angel, your gang really needs to lighten up,” she said, turning to face him again. “Don’t go actually turning into lawyers on me, now,” she smiled, though her face quickly turned serious again. “And also don’t go getting all secret-y and shadowy on me, because I’m having a hard enough time trusting this entire situation, and I know there’s something you’re not telling m--huunh!” Her words cut off as all the air rushed out of her lungs, her right hand rising to press against her abdomen, her fingers digging slightly into her flesh.

Angel’s eyes darted up to her shell-shocked face, still looking toward him but not really seeing, then behind her to see similar faces looking toward the back of his office, then to the source of all the tension.

Unbeknownst to the occupants of the room, Spike had chosen that moment to slip into the office through the rear wall. The moment he stepped completely through, he stopped dead in his incorporeal tracks as he set eyes on the back of the small blonde woman in front of Angel’s desk. His left hand rose, fingers gripping his chest as though in effort to strangle the gasp that tore from his throat.

At the small sound, Buffy slowly turned, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. When at last she faced the man she had once thought lost to her for eternity, the only thing to pass her lips was the whispered name: “Spike?”

Spike heaved out a gasp at the sound of his name on her lips, and could only reply with an equally soft, “Buffy.”

The moment she heard his voice--god his voice-- touch the air, something inside her snapped. With a small cry, her legs had propelled her forward before she could even tell her body to move. Heedless of the shouts and cries of warning she dimly heard around her she launched herself at him--

“Buffy, wait--!”

“You don’t understand, Spike’s a--!”

--and sent the shocked vampire staggering back several steps, his back hitting the wall with a resounding thud. He wrapped his arms fiercely around the sobbing woman, his eyes wide and unbelieving before he shut them tight and buried his face in her neck, taking in her scent--her scent--in great heaving breaths, soon sobbing just as hard as the woman he held crushed against his body.

“--a ghost?”

The assembled group inside the office exchanged bewildered glances, each of their gazes eventually landing on their boss. Angel’s face remained unreadable, though his eyes never wavered from the embracing blondes across the room.

For their part, Spike and Buffy remained oblivious to the confusion around them. Buffy gasped and pulled back as far as their linked forms would allow, sniffling slightly as she tried to get her breathing under control. She slipped one arm out from around his neck, bringing her hand up to touch the face she never thought she’d so much as see again, wiping the tears from his cheeks as she did so.

“You’re real?” she asked with a trembling voice.

“’M real, love. It’s real…” he repeated, his voice filled with wonder.

At his confirmation, Buffy suddenly found she couldn’t stop the words from flowing from her mouth. “How did this happen? When? God, I thought you were gone forever--the Hellmouth, it’s gone, Sunnydale is gone--and you were dead and you never got to know because you didn’t believe me, when I told you, you didn’t believe me and you were never going to get to because you were gone, you left me, and I couldn’t make you believe--”

Spike grasped her face in his hands at that, thumbs brushing away her tears, his forehead touching hers as he ended her tearful babble, telling her softly, “I believe you.”

Buffy grew quiet at that, looking intently into the blue eyes that held her gaze. Before she could stop herself, before reason could regain a foothold, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Spike shuddered beneath the gentle touch, on sensory overload as it was, and then to feel her soft lips once more, to be able to touch her again, it was all too much.

Apparently the small contact was far from enough for Buffy, as she lunged for his mouth again, lips capturing his in a kiss a far cry away from the first. Spike’s knees finally buckled at the contact, and they slowly slid down to the floor, his arms once again surrounding her as she wrapped herself around him. A low moan tore from Spike’s throat as Buffy slipped her tongue past his lips, mating with his as they savored each other’s taste once again.

As soon as their legs no longer had to work to support them, it seemed to bring life to their hands, both of them suddenly eager for tactile confirmation of what still felt like a dream. Spike’s hands sought flesh, his left coming up to cup the back of her neck, fisting the silky blonde locks there, while his right slipped up under the hem of her top, pressing against her lower back. Buffy clutched a fistful of Spike’s t-shirt and duster in one hand, while the other never rested in one place, sliding across the planes of his chest, down over his shoulder to grasp at a bicep, then back up to stroke over his face and up into his platinum hair.

The other, now somewhat uncomfortable, occupants of the room shifted awkwardly about, none of them sure how to go about interrupting the blonde couple’s reunion. Finally Lorne rolled his crimson eyes and whistled loudly. Buffy and Spike jumped at the shrill sound, lips parting with an audible smack. “Okay, kids! Time to come up for some air! I think at least one of you needs it by now!” At that observation, Buffy’s face flamed scarlet, meeting Spike’s sheepish grin with one of her own.

They slowly disentangled from one another, Buffy climbing to her feet first and pulling Spike up after her. After lacing her fingers firmly through his, earning a grateful squeeze in return, the couple faced their audience, stepping forward into the middle of the office. They stopped a few feet in front of Angel’s desk, Buffy’s eyes fixed on its occupant, Spike’s eyes fixed on her.

After several tense moments, Fred’s small voice broke the silence. “Angel?”

Angel sighed heavily, before standing and coming around in front of the desk, crossing his arms and lowering his head, waiting for the questions he knew were coming. But instead of the onslaught he was expecting, all he got was one quiet word.

“Why?”

Angel slowly raised his eyes to the frowning face of his former love.

“Why wasn’t I told about this,” Buffy began slowly, “the moment he was back? Why didn’t you tell me? Why was I not the first call that was made? Why didn’t someone find me?” She turned to the man at her side. “Why didn’t you come find me?”

Before anyone could answer any of her questions, Spike softly spoke. “Because I couldn’t, love.”

“What? Couldn’t? Why not?”

This time, Spike hesitated, and Angel spoke up. “Because Spike is a ghost, Buffy.”

At her blank stare, Spike confirmed Angel’s answer. “It’s true, pet. I dunno how, or why. Believe me I’d like to know myself, but it’s true. Haven’t been able to even leave this town, I’m stuck here, tied to that bloody amulet you gave me.”

“The amulet?”

“Yeah,” murmured Angel. “The one I gave you.” His petulant tone wasn’t lost on anyone, and Buffy spared him a derisive glance before turning back to Spike.

“So…you’re a vampire…ghost?” she arched a brow at the absurdity of the sentence.

Spike huffed amusedly. “Yeah, luv. Poetic, huh?”

Buffy’s giggle was cut off as Gunn stepped up next to Spike, reaching out a finger to poke him in the arm. Spike and Buffy watched as Fred and Wesley took their turns poking Spike in the arm, pulling back as though burned after they made contact. As Lorne was reaching out to do the same, Buffy waved him back impatiently. “Why the hell do you keep poking him?”

“Because,” Angel repeated slowly, “Spike is a ghost.”

“Okaaayyy…”

Wesley stepped forward, face pensive. “If I may…?” He gestured toward and clutched Buffy’s wrist, slowly pulling her hand away from Spike’s grasp, earning a small sound of complaint from him and a pout from her. Once they were physically separated, Wesley reached out and repeated his effort of poking Spike in the arm, this time his hand passing right through him.

Buffy gasped loudly, turning an alarmed face to first Spike’s, then Angel’s. She looked back to Spike and grabbed his hand again, holding it tightly between both of her own. Wesley again reached out and poked Spike’s arm, this time making solid contact.

“Buffy, if you could release him again--” Wesley began.

“No! We get it. I, for some reason, can touch ghosty Spike and as long as I am, so can you.”

“Hang on!” Spike exclaimed, stepping forward and bringing a stumbling Buffy with him as he reached Angel’s desk, reaching out and picking up a mug from it’s surface with ease. “Look! I can touch stuff, too! And--” He cut off as he caught a whiff of the substance inside the mug. “--smell, and--” He interrupted himself again as he quickly downed the contents, moaning in pleasure. “--taste!” He turned to an indignant Angel and asked, “Is this otter?”

“I suppose it makes sense,” mused Wesley. “After all, you rather solidly hit the wall when Buffy--” he gestured inarticulately.

“Hey, yeah!” exclaimed a suddenly excited Spike, turning back to Buffy. “God, pet, I didn’t even notice, was too wrapped up in--I could smell you and taste you and, Christ, luv, I could feel you.”

“Obviously,” quipped Gunn.

Spike spared him a glance, rolling his eyes. “Not like that, Charlie boy--well, yes, obviously like that--but I meant…I could feel her.” He turned back to Buffy, bringing his hand up to her face where she held it with her own. “Felt that burn inside that could only mean it was you.”

Buffy nodded against his hand, tears rising once more. “Felt you, here…” she again placed her free hand low on her abdomen, “and I knew it had to be you, even though I couldn’t believe it, never thought I’d feel it again,” she whispered.

Before the situation could again become too heated, Wesley interrupted. “Though I’m sure everyone has realized this already, I’d say some research is in order?”

~*~*~

They relocated to the laboratory, much to the disappointment of the reunited blonds, who clearly wanted to catch up in a more private setting. As it was, Spike was constantly stealing touches, keeping Buffy’s hand firmly clasped in his as he opened doors, punched elevator buttons, and ran his fingers along the walls of every hallway.

But the one thing he touched the most was the woman at his side. Brushing a kiss against the back of her hand. Fingers twisting the ends of her long blonde locks. Sweeping across her cheek whenever he caught her grinning at him, which was often. And not a single moment was lost on Angel, who had surreptitiously kept his eye on the couple since the moment of their reunion.

By the time they’d reached the lab, Fred had already called ahead for the technicians to retrieve the amulet. They proceeded to re-run all the tests they had upon Spike’s original arrival, this time while he kept in contact with Buffy. Everything read as normal for a vampire, but when done again after separating the couple, they got the same readings as the first time around.

“I don’t understand,” said Fred. “I would think that Buffy’s presence, and her affect on Spike, would show up on at least one of these tests. But it just reads that he’s a plain old vampire if he’s touching her, and still the not-quite-a-ghost he was before if he’s not.”

“Hey now, watch who you’re calling plain and old, there, ducks,” Spike teased Fred. “Those titles belong to the other vamp in the room.” He jerked his head toward the vamp in question, who in turn rolled his eyes.

It was a sentiment echoed by Buffy. “I see you two have been getting along as famously as ever. And were you flirting with her?” she asked nonchalantly, belying the jealous flare of her eyes.

“What? Of course not,” Spike immediately replied.

She turned to Fred. “Have you two been flirting? If you have, I understand, it was hard for me to resist even when I hated him, but I’ve grown up these last few months and have come to appreciate the blunt tactics of a very dear friend of mine, and I came to find the direct approach really does do wonders. So have you? Been flirting?”

A put-on-the-spot Fred sputtered helplessly for a few moments before eventually replying in the negative.

Spike couldn’t help but chuckle. “Go easy on her, pet. Nobody here is used to Anya speak. How has she been anyway?”

Buffy’s eyes misted as she looked back to him. “She didn’t make it,” she answered quietly.

For a moment, Spike looked absolutely stricken. She had been a good friend, through all the times. He missed her while he’d been here, and now that’s all he’d ever be able to do. But he knew she must’ve been like hellfire going down, and it brought a tender smile to his face. After a moment, he asked, “Harris doin’ okay?”

Buffy smiled sadly. “Of course he’s not,” she whispered, “but he will be.”

Spike could only nod. It seemed that both of them now knew the feeling intimately.

“Fred,” Wesley continued on the previous topic, “is there any differences in the readings on the amulet itself?”

“Not sure yet,” she replied. “Since the amulet can’t be destroyed outside hallowed grounds, we can’t chip off any samples, so the tests take longer. We should be able to get results by tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll meet back here tomorrow.” The group jumped at the sudden sound of Angel’s voice, which had until then been conspicuously absent.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” asked Wesley. “Shouldn’t we conduct more observations?”

“Everything that can be observed has been already. What we need now are explanations, and there will be more of those tomorrow. Plus I’m sure everyone is tired, or otherwise eager to leave.” Angel leveled a glance at the blond duo. “We’ll start fresh tomorrow morning.”

Before Spike or Buffy could comment on Angel’s apparent willingness to let them catch up in private, Fred approached them. “Spike, if we could get a sample of your blood, while you two are in contact, obviously, it might give us some more answers. And maybe yours, too, Buffy? If you don’t mind?”

“By all means,” she replied. “Answers are a good thing.”

While having their blood drawn from the arms that weren’t attached to the other person by the hands, Buffy and Spike spoke quietly to each other.

“So can you leave the building?” Buffy asked.

“Yeah,” Spike replied. “It’s only once I hit city limits that I get popped back to this place. Feels like I’m getting led around by my entrails,” he muttered, earning a grimace from the woman next to him. “Yeah, feels about like that,” he laughed.

“Well then,” she continued, “I’m checked in to a hotel, courtesy of the newly formed Watcher’s Council. I was thinking we could just go back there…catch up on old times?” She tried to keep the suggestiveness of her question to a minimum, but of course Spike could grasp even the slightest hint of innuendo.

“Thought we were supposed to catch up on recent times?” he murmured, sliding closer as the lab techs finished and left with their samples.

“W-we could do that, too.”

“Ready to leave?”

Buffy merely nodded before leaping from her stool and dragging Spike behind her, much to the amused glances of the others in the room. They entered the elevator, and those watching tried not to laugh as the couple inside waited anxiously for the doors to shut. As they slowly slid closed, Buffy finally gave up, turning to shove Spike up against the wall and slammed her mouth to his.

Angel squeezed his eyes shut and released a deep and unneeded breath.