A/N: Thanks to all who have reviewed so far. It's two a.m., and I'm not so sure about this chapter, but at the same time, I felt the need to post it asap. I figure I will find out if it sucks or not by the reviews I'll get, or lack there of. Here's hoping to happy reading...


“Well, see how well things worked out?” Buffy looked fondly at Anya and Xander. “And look at you guys. So good and alive and together,” she continued, tearing up again. “So together, and ... good, and ... alive...” she sniffled, grabbing a tissue. “Oh, god...” she cried, dabbing at her eyes. “I'm… I'm just so happy for you...” She burst into tears, burying her face in the tissue as the others continued to stare in silence.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry you—”

“Dear lord. What happened here? Are you all alright? Buffy?” A shocked and worried Giles asked from the doorway. After the scattered explanations and accusations went around, Giles removed his glasses from his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a “bloody hell” muttered from his lips.

“It’s okay, Giles. We’ll clean it all up,” Willow said with a wider than wide smile, Anya standing beside her with a broom looking overly cheerful as well. Giles nodded absently before turning to Buffy.

“Buffy, we need to talk. I’m going to go home,” Have a drink he thought silently. “And then go over to your place. I’ll see you there?”

“Sure Giles. I’ll meet you in about an hour?” He nodded again at the still teary eyed girl, turned and left. Buffy quietly surveyed the mess before her, and sighed heavily. Then her eyes brightened considerably when an idea popped into her head.

“You guys. I should really go. Pull myself together before Giles lays the news on me. You understand.”

“But Buffy, you clearly would be able to move…” Anya looked surveyed the shop with a critical eye. “Large, heavy objects such as the broken, solid wooden shelves of the broken display cases better than any of us.”

“Anya—”

“I would,” she cut Buffy off. “But I’ve got a bad back.” Based on everyone’s look of incredulity, she amended, “Well, I could obtain one through the unnecessary strain.”

“I’m not saying that I’m not going to help, just… not right this second. Important convo with Giles, remember?”

“And really, it is kinda you and Will’s—” Xander stopped on the threatening glare he was receiving from his red headed best friend and his girlfriend. “I mean, the G Man’s insured; no worries Buffy.” He gave the Slayer a nervous smile.

“Then it’s settled. Leave the heavy parts for me tomorrow. Night guys.” Buffy headed out of the shop without a backwards glance. She only made it a block and a half down the street before seeing Spike ahead.

“Slayer!” he called out to her. Buffy rolled her eyes, but continued towards him until they were face to face.

“What?” Buffy queried, regarding him cautiously.

“Glad I was able to catch up with you. What with all the commotion and the—”

“Spike, spill. I have to get home in a timely fashion.”

“Okay.” He gestured for her to proceed forward. Buffy shrugged, but started walking again with him tagging along.

“Multitasking. Very progressive of us.”

“Seems more like stalling to me. You still haven’t told me what you want.”

“I don’t want anything. I just… well, I suppose I do want something.”

“Knew it.”

“No, it’s not what you think—I want you to know that the other night… I had no intention of showing you that to hurt you.” Buffy scoffed at that. “No, really. I just thought that you should know.” Buffy stopped walking and turned to him.

“You think I really wanted to know of Riley’s not so kosher late night activities?”

“Would you have preferred to stay in the dark? Living a lie?” Buffy turned her head, trying not to pout but failing horribly as she contemplated Spike’s questions. Spike thought she looked quite adorable, particularly with the little ponytails.

“I know soldier boy left y—”

“How did you know that Riley left?” she cut in, turning her gaze sharply on him. “What? Is my love life all over the demon world now? The hot topic and front cover of the Demon World Inquirer or something?” she asked, sounding just this side of hysterical.

“No,” he replied quietly, not looking at her.

“Then how did you…” She squinted at him, partial realization dawning on her.

“Did Riley… he came to see you. What did he say?”

“Pfft. Just typical white bread posturing. Nothing of terrible importance. He was pretty pissed though that I brought you there. ‘S not like it was my fault though. Didn’t force him to go there.”

“Um, okay. But what did he say?” Buffy reiterated, growing impatient. Spike looked thoughtful, pondering how he could word exactly Captain Cardboard’s final words to him.

“Well, first he threatened to kill me. Very convincing, actually,” he said more to himself then to her. Buffy’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Convincing how? I mean if he punched you, it wouldn’t have caused much damage.” Spike pulled out his lighter and cigarettes, lit one up and looked at Buffy, considering her for a moment. He let the cigarette dangle from his mouth as he reached to the top of his pants, pulling his T-shirt out.

“What are you do—”

“Didn’t hit me, Slayer. Staked me.” Buffy stood there, mouth agape in shock as she saw the puncture wound marring the smooth planes of his chest.

“The sadistic bastard was carrying a plastic wood-grain stake around. Didn’t kill me, but still hurt like hell. Strange, cause when you did it, it kinda tickled, but that was probably cause of the—”

“Are you okay? He didn’t…” As her hand reached out slowly to the wound, of its own volition he was sure, Spike lowered his shirt before it made contact, feeling self conscious suddenly.

“M’fine. Suppose that was his way of shootin’ the messenger, ya know? We shared a drink after that. He accused me of having some sort of ulterior motive, but really, what would I have to gain?” His voice was laced with false incredulity, hoping she wouldn’t draw the right conclusions about that. “Anyway, I just felt that… as the Slayer, and more importantly, a Slayer that I know and respect…” Realizing by the “what the hell?” expression on her face that he was saying things that he shouldn’t be, he added, “And loathe—” He mentally exhaled as she relaxed at that last bit. “That you should be aware of things that, well, concern you, yea?” Buffy sighed, and started walking again, Spike following.

“You’re right. That was… sensitive information that I should have been aware of. Even if I most certainly didn’t like said information. God, I just can’t believe how totally… screwed up he was. I know he was insecure before, but…” Spike bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from commenting that he was probably always insecure.

“Even so, I didn’t want him to just… leave me.”

“I get that, pet. But you know, it probably wasn’t so much leaving you as it was that the boy was a spineless, gutless fish.”

“What?” She stopped walking again, and Spike sighed. So much for multitasking and arriving in a timely fashion.

“Oh, come now, Summers. Do I have to spell it out for you? He was a coward. You guys were having problems, and he couldn’t bear to face ‘em. So he ran, just like when he was sick and pumped up on Initiative juice or when he was in denial when he discovered his mentor was a homicidal bitch who tried to kill his girl. Can’t face up to his problems, that one. Stupid git.” Buffy pouted some more, neither agreeing with or denying Spike’s assessment.

“Maybe. I still miss him, though.”

“I’m sure that in the back of La Femme Boutique, they have all sorts of gizmos that can take care of your sense of… loss.”
The sincerity in his voice through her for a second before she realized he was referring to the sex store in the mall.

“Oh, gross Spike!” Spike chuckled lightly, grinning at her. They started to walk again.

“Maybe even better. A lil’ artificial lovin’ is better than no lovin’ at all. Or at least easier than your—”

“Okay. This conversation is officially over. I accept your apology Spike, and may we never discuss this again. Goodnight,” she said, all the while not looking him as she continued to walk, hoping he wouldn’t follow. He didn’t. He knew there would be other opportunities to make her uncomfortable or piss her off.

“Night Slayer,” he called out to her. “Sweet dreams,” he muttered under his breath, heading in the opposite direction.