Dawn was pacing when Buffy entered the room. She shrieked and ran to her sister, wrapping her in a hug, then she bombarded her with an explanation on how Angel happened to know something he shouldn’t. Apologizing profusely, Dawn dabbed at the scratches on Buffy’s back, telling her again and again how horrible she felt and about their father’s visit at the funeral home.


"So he isn’t coming tomorrow." Buffy didn’t have to ask, she knew. She made a mental check mark in the "suck" column and closed her eyes.


"No. I’m sorry."


"I don’t care."


Dawn watched her sister as she washed her face and wiped it on a towel. It had stopped surprising Dawn that Buffy looked so worn, so tired, so absolutely broken most of the time. The only time there was a spark of Sunnydale Buffy was when she was drunk. And then she would laugh easily, crack jokes and smile. It devastated her to see the Slayer shaking as she hung the towel back on the hook and reached for her toothbrush. "Did you fight with Angel?" she finally asked.


"Not physically, but emotionally it was war."


"I really am sorry. It just slipped out. What is Spike doing?"


"Harmony, apparently."


"Huh? Oh! Harmony! Ew, Harmony?!"


Buffy nodded. "I can’t process anything else tonight. I’m sorry, Dawn."


Dawn trailed her as Buffy went to the living room, picked up a book, put it down, and then noticed the bar in the corner. Wordlessly, she watched as Buffy reached into the cabinet and pulled out a very large bottle of Hennessey. "We have to be up early, Buffy. In just a couple of hours. Maybe you shouldn’t-"


"That’s just what I need. Another person telling me what I should and shouldn’t do."


"I just mean-"


"Goodnight, Dawn."


Buffy walked out onto the balcony and sat down on a delicate bench that faced the skyline. The sun would rise soon. Another day, another chance to make the most of life. She snorted, wondering what the point was exactly. She opened the bottle, but didn’t take a drink. It was hard to believe that less than two hours ago, she had been sleeping in Spike’s arms. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.


She stood up, staring at the horizon, where the sun was starting to send fire into the sky. For so long, she had been just like the sun, getting up, giving life by killing demons and trying to nurture those around her. Now she was like an eclipse, trying to block out the sun and live in the shadow of what she had once been.


She hated herself for wanting the peace that she found in every bottle and she despised herself for continuing to give into it. God help her, as pissed as she was at Spike, she wanted to go to him and apologize when she had done nothing wrong. She brought the bottle to her lips and then jumped when someone stepped onto the balcony.


Giles took the bottle from her hand and poured it over the side of the building. "This ends right now. You won’t find any answers in this."


Buffy nodded. Without saying a word, she stood, walked into his open arms and she cried.


For a really long time.


*~*~*~


The funeral was somber. Buffy wore sunglasses, no makeup, and a black suit that actually belonged to Willow which hung loosely from her tiny frame. She sat in the front row with Dawn, aware that Spike, Angel, and about one hundred employees of Wolfram and Hart had shown up. The funeral parlor was packed and there were people standing in the back of the room. The coffin Dawn chose really was nice and Buffy shuddered a little to herself remembering how hard it had been to claw from her own coffin.


The director talked for a while about how significant it was for Joyce Summers to have been lost and then found. He compared it to the song ‘Amazing Grace’ and implored God to accept her body into the earth and her soul at His right side. Buffy sang along to the simple hymns, wondering if Dawn had picked them as well.


The director spoke again, asking if anyone had anything to say. To Buffy’s shock, Spike stood and walked to the front of the room. He was dressed in a dark suit, a navy blue silk shirt and matching tie. He had never looked more beautiful to her. She could feel Dawn looking curiously at her and squeezed her hand. "I have no idea," she whispered.


"Hello," Spike said, absently waving a hand. "I didn’t know Joyce as long as I would have liked. She hated me at first, tried to kill me with an axe, and then when I needed a helping hand, someone to listen to me for a while, she was there. She treated me like family, like I wasn’t what I am. She accepted that I was different, that I wasn’t like her, but she welcomed me into her home, laughed at my stories, gave me advice.


"Joyce was beautiful and she appreciated beautiful things. She knew more about art than anyone I’ve ever know and she lived her life like a painting, careful brush strokes and a myriad of colors. What she painted sits before us, her children. Her legacy is in the way they forgive, the way they love, the way they wear their hearts on their sleeves trusting that no one will tear it apart. Those girls would die for one another, kill for one another, and defend their loved ones with the ferocity that Joyce once used on me. I see her in them.


"This coffin is just a blank canvas for Joyce, but I have it on good authority that the place she’s at is the most serene and magical place a person can be. I won’t say that we won’t miss her, but I will say that she lives on in everyone who ever got the chance to know her and appreciate the quality of her life. And she reflects in the faces of the people she loved the most. We may forget her laugh, her smile, her favorite color or her favorite book. But I know we’ll never forget the important things. May she rest easy. Thank you."


He caught Buffy’s eye an nodded at her. She gave him a half smile. No one else spoke, there wasn’t a need.


The smell of freshly turned earth was something that Buffy was up close and familiar with. The rest of the funeral passed in a blur, but the smell of dirt stuck with her for a long time after it was over. She knew that Spike and Angel were sitting together in a limo watching from behind tinted windows as the ceremony took place. She kept her eyes downcast behind her sunglasses, her arm around Dawn just like last time. She wouldn’t cry. She was too exhausted from not sleeping, from fighting with everyone, from talking so long with Giles that her throat ached from it.


As she picked up a clump of dirt and threw it onto the coffin, she knew she’d be okay. Whatever happened next, she would survive and do it just fine. From rock bottom, there was no place to go but up unless she had a shovel. And she was grateful that she didn’t.


*~*~*


Spike stood next to Buffy, staring out over the darkened city from the top of Wolfram and Hart. His shirt was unbuttoned and his tie had been discarded almost instantly once they all returned. Dawn had gone straight to bed and Giles had gone into research mode with Wesley about an ancient text translation. Fred and Willow were bonding in the lab over a dissection of a demon and that left Buffy and Spike. He had taken her hand and led her to the rooftop. He studied her profile, noting the dark circles under her eyes. "Did you sleep at all last night?"


"No." She glanced at the sky where the full moon exploded from behind clouds. "I guess Angel is dog sitting, huh? He actually had the audacity to say something to *me* about fleas. Bastard."


He leaned a little closer, nudging her on the arm. "Nina is actually pretty nice, Slayer."


"I’ll take your word for it."


"It shouldn’t bother you. You moved on, right?"


"Whatever."


"Well, I don’t like that you care."


Buffy didn’t respond for a long time. She let her gaze drift from the moon to the ocean in the distance. Goodbye was never easy for her and doing it twice in one day was a little too much so she stalled for time. "What you said today was really nice."


"I meant it."


They stood in awkward silence, both lost in their own thoughts.


"I can’t believe this is it," she finally said with sigh.


His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"


"Giles booked our flight. We leave tomorrow night."


"No," he replied, turning her to face him, "Stay with me."


"Spike-"


"Listen to me, Slayer," he interrupted. "This is what we both want. I can’t live without you and you don’t want to live in Italy. It will be fine."


"No, it won’t. I can’t be here watching Harmony and -"


"There is no Harmony!" Spike shouted, strengthening his grip on her arms. "She’s dating a Goosba Demon from accounting! They’ve been together for months! They were on vacation together! That’s where she’s been! Fucking Angel - he did this and you just -"


Buffy wriggled in his grasp as he tightened his hold with every word. "Ow."


"I’m sorry." Spike let her go and paced across the length of the rooftop. "What do you want me to do? Beg? Plead with you? Apologize for what I put you through these past few days? I’ll do all of it just don’t leave me."


"You *slept* with Harmony. I was faithful to a fucking memory. To *your* memory. You can’t fix that."


"Let me try. You owe me that much."


"I OWE you something now? What do I owe you?"


"You’re heart. If I have to spend the rest of your life making it up to you I will. You can punish me every single day, pet, but if you leave that’s gonna kill me."


She had to smile at the irony. "You do realize that just a few days ago we were in reversed roles. I was the one begging you to love me, to come with me to Italy."


"And I was a fool for wasting time. Don’t you be guilty of the same thing."


"We’re fools for thinking that it will work. Isn’t that what you said to me?"


"I was wrong. Buffy, please don’t do this."


It was her turn to pace. She had done nothing but consider her options since that morning. Dawn had made it very clear that she would like nothing more than to return to California. Giles even supported the idea, telling her that a change of scenery would be perfect and could help her clear her head. Truthfully, she figured that her Watcher was relieved to think that someone else would have to look out for her, considering all the personal demons she was dealing with. It seemed so easy, so easy and so perfect. Too perfect, really.


"I have a job in Italy," she said absently. "Well, kinda. I mean, what would I do for money?"


"Angel said you could work here."


"Doing what?" Buffy asked. "Worshipping him and springing to attention when he walks in the room?"


"We were thinking the Assassination Team could use you. Or the Tactical Field. Or the Ambush Coordination Department. A Slayer would be invaluable to us and the senior partners already okayed it."


"You’ve certainly been busy. Are you’re obviously sure of yourself."


"This is our chance, baby. We can do this. We can do anything. Please?" He was aware that he was pleading with her, but it didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was making her stay. "I love you! I’m screaming it from the roof! I hate this! Look at what you’ve done to me!"


"Feels shitty, huh? You did it to me first."


"I. Am. Sorry."


"Yeah, you are."


"You know what?" Spike snapped, throwing his hands in the air. "Fuck it! Go pack! I want you to go! All that stuff before? I was lying. I don’t love you! I don’t even like you!"


She turned to him, trying to reign in the emotions that were coursing through her. This was the Spike she loved. The exasperated man who was hot and cold, wanted her, hated her, needed her, then pushed her away. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, but most of all she wanted to feel his arms around her with a promise that he would never let her go. The look in his eyes did her in. She smiled at how pitiful he looked. "What exactly is a an Ambush Coordinating Department? I am NOT working with you. Office romances always fail and I’m just -"


He silenced her with a kiss.


She thought she would pop from sheer joy.




Part Thirteen: The End:


With a million promises to write, phone, and send pictures, Buffy waved until her friends were safely boarded on the plane. She hadn’t been prepared for the amount of tears that she would shed as she had helped load their suitcases into the limo and sat next to Giles while waiting for the last call. They would be so far away from her. Dawn had held onto Xander so long that he barely made it through the gate before it shut, thanking them for not going with them so he wouldn’t have to carry any extra luggage.

Now, silently, she sat next to Spike in the back of the limo, listening to Dawn softly crying in the far corner. Spike kissed Buffy on the temple and moved to Dawn, hugging her tightly. “It’s okay, ‘bit. You can visit anytime.”

“It’s like a million miles.”

“No, it’s not. It’s only a few hours away.”

“I’ll miss them so much.”

She burst into a fresh round of tears and Buffy moved across the expanse of the limo to take her hand. “Do you want to go, too, Dawnie?”

Dawn shook her head. “No! I want to be where you are, Buffy. I just - it’s scary.”

“Tell me about it,” Buffy replied.

“You’re scared?” Spike looked at the Slayer, shocked. “Why are you scared?”

“I’m leaving everything for you.”

“Well, thank you for making it seem like I’m not worth it.”

“I’m not saying you’re not worth it. I’m saying it’s scary.”

“You don’t trust me? Why the bloody hell don’t you trust me?”

Dawn rolled her eyes and sat back in the seat to get out of their line of fire.

Buffy sighed. “I trust you, Spike! Hence the staying.”

“But I scare you?”

“I didn’t say that! Oh my god! I hate this selective hearing that you do so well.”

“Maybe you’d benefit from being more selective about what the you say.”

Shaking with anger, Buffy attempted to stand up, but slammed her head against the roof of the car. Spike and Dawn both burst out laughing, especially when the limo driver stopped suddenly and sent the Slayer falling onto her backside. Narrowing her eyes, Buffy glared at both of them. “Shut up!”

The limo door swung open and a very young, very handsome man glanced inside. “I’m sorry, sir, ladies. Is everything okay in here?” His eyes fell on Dawn and he smiled, full of dimples and straight white teeth.

Dawn sat up straighter, obviously taking note. “No. These two are driving me insane. Can I ride up front with you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, extending his hand to help her from the car. “I’m Colin. And you are-”

“In love,” Dawn whispered to Buffy, grinning from ear to ear as she slipped from the car.

Spike was still staring at the door when the limo pulled away from the curb. “What the fuck just happened?”

Buffy crawled to the seat and sat down beside him, massaging the top of her head. “Our little girl has grown up.”

“Like hell.” Spike grabbed the remote control. “How do I lower this damn glass so I can see what they’re doing?”

Buffy grabbed the remote and tossed it across the limo. “Leave it.”

He growled a little as she slipped across his lap, straddling him and kissing his neck. “Careful, love. You’re gonna wake a sleeping giant.”

“That’s original.” Buffy tugged his ear with her teeth. “More like a napping troll.”

He yanked her hair. “I’m tired of your mouth!”

She moved lower, kneeling in front of him as she worked the button of his jeans. “Want to test that?”

“Bloody hell.”

*~*~*~*

Buffy surveyed the marble with a critical eye. It was smooth, and the letters had been intricately carved in a unique font with love. Spike had done it himself, working tirelessly in one of the spare rooms while she trained for her new position. He had presented it to her at the cemtery, already neatly in place and surrounded by flowers. It stood out, catching your eye in a sea of simple of marble and granite pieces. This one was special. She traced her mother’s name and the dates of her birth and death. “Hi, mom.”

She put the bouquet of roses against the base of the headstone and sat down. “I’m sorry I didn’t come last weekend. I worked the entire time and then I crashed. It’s exhausting. I have my own division and everything. People actually do what I say. And I was so wrong about Wolfram and Hart. I think they’re okay. You’d like it. They have real art, not the bargain kind.

“Dawn’s fine. She however, does NOT do what I say. Can you do something about that? She’s in love. His name is Colin and I thought he was a limo driver, but he’s actually a lawyer who helps drive when he doesn’t have anything to do. Or if he’s being punished by Spike for stealing Dawn’s heart. It’s so cute. They’re gross. Was I ever like that with guys?” She paused. “God, I’m like that NOW. It’s disgusting. I love it.”

Smiling, she traced the heart on the stone, picturing Spike working endlessly to make it perfect. He’d kept his secret well. She had asked a hundred times how he got all the scrapes and cuts on his hands. ”I hope you like this. Spike surprised me with it. It’s so pretty. I’m happy, mom. Guess what? I haven’t had a single drop of alcohol since the day we buried you. I haven’t even thought about it. Nasty stuff, really.Oh! The gang said hello. Willow and Xander are in Cambodia right now and Giles is surrounded by Slayer Trainees on his own so every time I talk to him I can hear him glaring and cleaning his glasses and he’s stuttering a whole lot more. Imagine, hundreds of little mini-me girls running around. I shudder to think!”

Buffy took one of the roses from the bouquet and brought it to her now. “Yellow. Your favorite. I wanted to thank you for helping me get my life back. I know you had a hand in it and you always did know what I needed. I hope you’re happy, too. I know where you are. Save me a seat, okay?”

Rising, Buffy checked her watch. “I love you. I’ll visit again soon.”

Buffy walked to her car and sat behind the wheel.

A white dove landed on the hood and stared at her, then flew to the headstone and hopped back and forth across the top, bobbing up and down. Grinning, Buffy said, “Yes, I’ll tell him you liked it.”

The End