a/n What was meant as a short one-shot has taken a life of it’s own. I know this is another WIP, but I really love season 7 and it’s potential for good Spuffy. I want to take what was hinted at and push to what I would have loved to see. So this is the first of several rewrites (one for each season because I’m crazy). Many thanks to Desi for her outstanding work. As much as I hate when too much stuff is used from an EP, I had to borrow dialogue heavily from “Beneath You” Nothing is mine so please don’t sue.


As she walked through the cemetery, Buffy tried to stamp down the glimmer of doubt that was niggling at her.  The sneaking suspicion was too alien to hold any hint of truth but for some reason, the notion refused to go away.  In fact, the whole evening had an unreal reality to it.  From the giant worm from hell to the smack down between Anya and Spike.  The vampire’s split personality act this evening was by far the most bizarre thing.  Everything else was common ground and though weird because of Anya’s involvement, it was still far from unusual.

 

Spike, going from sane and strangely quiet to raving lunatic was out of the ordinary.  Buffy had the fleeting thought that in the insane department, he was giving Drusilla a run for her money before she saw the church.

 

She could feel he was inside the small building.  Sometime since their first meeting five years ago, she’d developed Spike’s tingles.  Her Slayer sense was always in hyperactive mode around him, and there was no doubt in her mind that she’d be able to identify him in a darken room full of vamps anytime.  She didn’t know exactly when she’d first identified the tingles as being Spike’s, but if she was honest with herself, something she used to avoid as much as possible,   it was probably around the time of their first truce, around the time Angel had stopped causing specific tingles. 

 

Buffy stopped walking, her mind on the verge of a discovery that was too huge to be acknowledge, especially tonight.  Despite the fact that it had been a week since Spike had materialized back into her life, she hadn’t been able to get over the shock of it.  She’d been telling the truth when she’d told him she’d hope he was a mirage but it wasn’t for the reason he thought.

 

The vision of him in the basement, hair long and unkempt, so unlike himself, so broken had shook her, making Buffy hope he was only a dream.  Since she’d dreamed of him more than once during the long summer, the hypothesis that he was only one more vision had been a distinct possibility.  The fact that her mind had been creaming that he was never insane in her dreams had been ignored but it explained her silence.  She still wasn’t sure she wasn’t imagining his presence but the night’s events were so strange that she didn’t have a choice anymore.

 

Bracing herself, she started toward the church doors.  Candles were burning in the lobby but the church itself was dark, bathed only in moonlight and shadows.  Buffy looked around, trying to find the missing vamp her inner Slayer assured her was near.  For some reason, her senses were going wayward since his return and when he spoke just behind her, she jumped.

 

“Hello”

 

Buffy’s reaction was more out of shock than fear or anger

 

“What the hell are you—?”

 

Spike’s naked chest was gleaming in the moonlight.  He held his blue shirt in his hands, a blue shirt that was still making Buffy want to drool.  She’d rarely seen him dressed in blue and he really was gorgeous.  He threw the shirt down and when he spoke, Buffy almost sigh in disappointment.  She’d hoped for a saner Spike, but apparently, crazy vamp was in the house.

 

“It didn't work. Costume. Didn't help. Couldn't hide.”

 

With a tired sigh, Buffy answered him “No more mind games, Spike.”

 

“No more mind games. No more mind.” Spike’s answer didn’t make sense, or if it did, it wasn’t the one Buffy had hoped for.  With every moment that passed, her earlier suspicions were making more and more sense.

 

Buffy’s gaze was caught by the scratches that marked Spike’s chest.  Despite the fact that they were at least a week old, the wounds were barely healed and Buffy wondered if he was eating enough.  Somehow she doubted it.

 

Reaching toward the scars, Buffy asked him “Tell me what happened to you”

 

His answer chilled her. ”Hey, hey, hey! No touching. Am I flesh? Am I flesh to you? Feed on flesh. My flesh. Nothing else. Not a spark. Oh, fine. Flesh then. Solid through. Get it hard; service the girl. “  When he reached for his pants, Buffy panicked.  Not because he was trying to undress, but because of the feelings his words and actions conveyed.  The easy way he accepted to serve as a blow up doll shook her and she reached for his hands hoping to stop him from debasing himself.  She wasn’t thinking of the last time they had been standing this close, wasn’t remembering lying underneath him as he tried to convince her she felt something.  Her only thought was that he was about to offer himself as a toy. “Stop it!”

 

His reaction was as much reflex as her next was and Buffy watched, stunned as he sailed into a pew, crashing to the floor.

 

“Right. Girl doesn't want to be serviced. Because there's no spark. Ain't we in a soddin' engine?”

 

Cautiously, Buffy made her way to him. “Spike, have you completely lost your mind?”

 

Spike looked up, and for an instant, he was himself “Well, yes. Where've you been all night?”

 

“You thought you would just come back here and... be with me?” The words came out harsher than she intended.  The question was simply a way to know if his feelings had changed.  But the anger that she’d been keeping inside since he’d left bubbled out.  She knew her anger wasn’t fair and that she was lashing out at him but Buffy couldn’t stop herself.  He’d left.  Despite every promises he’d made, he’d left.  She knew she was to blame, that her actions were responsible but the bottom line was the same.  As thought the soap opera scene in her bathroom hadn’t been enough to rattle her, the following days and devastating losses had almost brought her to her knees.  And though it all, the memory of his face when he’s stopped and the knowledge that she’d driven him out of town.  The one man she was sure would never leave.  But he had.  Leaving her to deal with the death of someone she loved and a homicidal best friend bent on ending the world.  So no, her words to him weren’t exactly rational, but his behaviour was starting to panic her. “This is all you get. I'm listening. Tell me what happened”

 

“I tried to find it, of course.”

 

“Find what?”

 

“The spark. The missing... the piece that fit. That would make me fit. Because you didn't want... God, I can't... Not with you looking.” Spike stood up, his back to her.  He made his way to the shadows, obviously hoping she wouldn’t look at him. “I dreamed of killing you.”

 

Buffy reached for a piece of broken pew.  She wasn’t afraid of him, but she didn’t know what he would do in his current state.  Sane Spike would never hurt her, crazy Spike?  If he really was out of his mind, she didn’t know if he would.

“I think they were dreams. So weak. Did you make me weak, thinking of you, holding myself, and spilling useless buckets of salt over your... ending? Angel—he should've warned me. He makes a good show of forgetting, but it's here, in me, all the time. The spark. I wanted to give you what you deserve, and I got it. They put the spark in me and now all it does is burn.“

Buffy never noticed when Spike started walking around her.  The notion that had been nagging her for a week took solid form. 

“Your soul.”  She finally voiced.

“Bit worse for lack of use.” Spike tilted his head in a move that was so very familiar that it brought tears to Buffy’s eyes.  She couldn’t stop the next question from passing her lips “You got your soul back. How?”

“It's what you wanted, right?” Spike looked up, as thought he was addressing God   “It's what you wanted, right?” Without pause, he looked down and started walking toward the altar. ”And—and now everybody's in here, talking. Everything I did...everyone I— and him... and it... the other, the thing beneath—beneath you. It's here too. Everybody. They all just tell me go... go...”  He looked back at her and Spike didn’t seem aware of the tears that were slowly falling from her eyes. ”to hell.”

Finally, Buffy managed to ask “Why? Why would you do that—“

Spike looked at her. “Buffy, shame on you. Why does a man do what he mustn't? For her. To be hers. To be the kind of man who would nev —“  The memory seemed to be too much for him.  Spike looked away before adding. “to be a kind of man.”

Disbelief warred with awe.  As she listened to him, as she understood what he was saying, Buffy finally understood just how much Spike loved her.  His guilt was clear but despite the weight of his soul, the one thing that was obviously first on his mind was the shame that came with hurting her.

Buffy was fully aware of the depth of the sacrifice he’s made.  She’d known his feelings were real and all her cries to the contrary had been nothing more that her own self-loathing.  His sacrifice as unneeded as it was, proved without a doubt that he would willingly do anything for her to love him.  Something she’d been doing  for a good long while. 

She didn’t know when she’d fallen in love with Spike but she had and somehow it felt like she’d always been.  Despite what Spike thought, she’d heard every thing he’s told her last year.  Every vow and every argument to the fact that they were meant to be.  She agreed, now as she had done then.  Spike had been right, as he too often was, almost as often right as he was wrong.  She’d been so angry with every one, with herself, with the Powers that she’d lashed at him, the only one who could sustain her rage.  It wasn’t her most shining moment.  But a summer spent mourning and thinking had woken her up out of the funk she’d found herself in.  She had the certainty that had she not jumped, the relationship with Spike would have been a healthy one, their tentative friendship of the last days of her life proof of that.

“She shall look on him with forgiveness, and everybody will forgive and love. He will be loved.” Meanwhile, Spike had walked closer to the large crucifix that stood at the center of the altar. “So everything's OK, right?”

Lost in memories, Buffy was brought back by the smell of smoke and burning flesh.  Through her tears, she finally figured that the smoke was coming from Spike who was leaning on the crucifix, and his flesh was burning.

 

With a strangled sob, Buffy fell to the floor.

 

“Don’t” The word was barely audible amid the sobs that wrecked Buffy’s small frame.  But it was enough for Spike to turn around.  He was greeted by a vision of Buffy hunched down, tears streaming down her face.  She was choking on her sobs and seeing her like that acted like a cold shower on the crazed vampire.  The haze of guilt and sorrow lifted from his mind and with a choked sob of his own, he made his way to Buffy.  Falling to his knees, he reached toward her before he stopped himself.

 

“Don’t cry luv.  I’m sorry.”  The misery in his voice had Buffy lifting her head.

 

“Sorry? For what?” She managed to get out between her sobs.

 

“For making you cry, for hurting you, for everything luv.”  Spike was at a loss when Buffy’s cries only picked up again.  He didn’t understand what he’d said to put her in that state.  It didn’t make sense but then again, nothing did these days.

 

The force of her sobs was choking her, making it nearly impossible for her to breathe.  Regrets and guilt were clawing at her.  She’d driven him to this.  Her self-loathing, her actions had pushed him this far.  To getting a soul that was tormenting him, to burning himself, scratching, hurting.  It was all her fault. The self-loathing that had been lessening during the last months was coming back.

 

When Spike understood that Buffy was starting to hyperventilate, he hesitated only a second before reaching for her.  He was slightly reassured when her crying didn’t increase and her breathing seemed to slow.  Without knowing how, Spike found himself with a crying Slayer curled in his arms.  Buffy was holding him tight, her body pressed as close to his as possible, her face nestled in his neck.

 

It took a while for the crying to stop and longer yet before Buffy’s breathing calmed enough for her to be able to speak.  When she did, it was muffled as she refused to move her face away from his neck.

 

“I’m sorry.”  Spike jumped.  She’s been silent for so long that the sound of her voice was unexpected.  The words were even more surprising.

 

“Luv?”  He tried to move her head, hoping to see her eyes but Buffy refused to budge.

 

“I’m sorry.  Everything is my fault.  I’ve been a bitch.  I didn’t mean to Spike, I didn’t mean to.  And now, because of it, you’re crazy and you’re hurt and you burn yourself and oh!”  A light seemed to go on in her mind as she remembered that a few moments earlier his skin had been smoking from the crucifix, the same skin she was pressing herself against and crying into.  As though she was the one burned, Buffy jumped away from him.

 

“Oh God, I’m sorry! Are you alright?”  As she spoke, she was running her fingers gently over the burn, being careful not to apply pressure in fear of hurting him.  She was so absorbed that she never saw the awe that settled over Spike’s features.

 

She’d never been that gentle with him.  Not once had she ever shown even half the concern she was displaying at the moment.  Spike didn’t know why she was acting like this, had no idea of why her actions and manners were so different from what they’d been only a few hours earlier.  But he wasn’t about to complain.  Unfortunately, the soul had not tampered his tendency to speak before he thought.

 

“Buffy?  Did Willow do a spell again?”  Buffy froze, her fingers millimetres away from his skin.  Slowly, as though scared, she raised her head and met his eyes.  What he saw in them shocked Spike.  Anger, grief, guilt and so many other emotions he couldn’t separate them.

 

“You don’t know.”  Her voice was raspy from crying and her tone was carefully empty.  It sounded as though she was keeping a tight control on her emotions and Spike tensed.

 

“What?”  Voice still empty, Buffy slowly told him what had happened during his absence.  The shooting earned a low growl that transformed into a roar when he learned of Tara ’s death and of Buffy’s own third passing.  The description of what had followed however left Spike stunned and he once more reached for Buffy.  All guilt was put aside as he cried for the quiet witch’s death and Willow ’s loss of innocence.

 

“Oh luv, I’m so sorry.”  He tightened his embrace, surprised when Buffy’s arms curled around him in answer. 

“Spike I- I had a lot of time to think this summer.  And I really am sorry.  I missed you.  Things were just wrong without you here.  I didn’t know if you would come back and Willow and Tara were gone and Dawn was crying a lot.  I felt so lonely without you.  I should have told you, then everything would’ve been different.”

 

“Tell me what sweets?”  Spike was shocked.  He couldn’t hear what he thought he was hearing. 

 

“Crap, this is so not the way I wanted to do this.”  The words were mumbled, as though not meant for his ears. Louder this time, Buffy added “You were right last year.  About me, about you, about us.  You thought I wasn’t listening but I was, and mostly you were right.”  Spike looked at her, questions and hope clearly written in his face.

 

“There’s so much to say, so much to talk about Spike. “  Looking around, Buffy realized they were still sitting on the church floor and that the sky was slowly lightening.  Somehow, they’d managed to talk the night away and she had to get Spike to safety.

 

“We need to get you out of here, and take care of these burns.  Come on.  You’re coming with me.”

 

“What? Where?”  Spike was bemused.  The soul was quiet but his mind was going every which way, not sure he did understand what Buffy was telling him.  He knew what he wanted to understand but wasn’t sure it was what she meant.  Knowing the two of them, it probably wasn’t. 

 

A bit shocked, he reached for the hand she was presenting him and let her help him get to his feet.  Silently he followed her, his abused mind unable to remember why he probably shouldn’t.

 

Her mind running over the possibilities and the reactions that would come with them, Buffy led Spike to Revello drive.  She knew she had a battle on her hands, one that for once couldn’t be fought with weapons and strength.  This one would be fought with patience and love.  As much as she wanted to just tell Spike how she felt, she knew that now wasn’t the time, that she needed to help him get used to the soul.  She also had to make sure that once she did tell him she loved him, he wouldn’t think it had anything to do with the soul.  Buffy wasn’t sure how she felt with the fact that he had gotten one.  She feared the changes it would bring, as well as knew the hard road that lay before Spike.  It wouldn’t be easy, of that she was sure, but she would do everything she could to help him. 

 

There was also the problem of Xander, Giles and Dawn.  She knew that all of them would be a problem.  She thought that Willow wouldn’t have much to say, her own recent brush with evil leaving her no room to complain.  Besides, Buffy was a bit unsure of what she felt about the redhead.  Willow was her friend, once upon a time, the very best one, but they’d grown apart and they were both to blame for that.  Before dark Willow , before the addiction to magic was the resurrection and even though Buffy had learned to leave with it, a small part of her still resented her friends.

 

She’d made her peace with Xander during the summer and she knew that Tara had truly regretted the pain the action had brought Buffy.  The quiet support Tara had given her had allowed them to find a friendship that had been more real than any other during the last year.  Anya had simply followed the others, of that Buffy had no doubt.  Even if the ex ex-demon should have known better, Buffy didn’t resent her for her part.  But she wasn’t sure she understood Willow ’s motivations.  But the witch was absent and Buffy didn’t know when or even if she would be back.  She’d have to deal with her if the time came. 

 

Buffy knew that Xander would cause a problem with Spike.  She knew that her friend had grown increasingly single-minded about demons throughout the years and that Spike’s misguided action in her bathroom would be hard to explain to her friend.  But if needed be, she would use her one major argument to bring Xander to her way of thinking.  Giles, she didn’t know.  Since her Watcher had left, the link that had been very real between them had grown distant and she wasn’t sure how to relate to him anymore.  Dawn would be the biggest obstacle to Spike’s rehabilitation.  Her sister was angry.  Buffy wasn’t sure what made Dawn angriest.  Whether it was the attempted rape or the fact that Spike had left.  Buffy knew that the two had been really close while she’d been gone and that upon her resurrection, the pair had lost most of the closeness they’d shared.  No, Dawn would be her first battle.

 

When Spike realized they were standing on the porch of Buffy’s house, he balked.  Dawn’s words had made a very real impression on him and he was afraid he’d managed to lose the youngster love by his actions. “Buffy, I can’t- I can’t go in there, please!”

 

“It’s alright Spike, trust me, please?”  She gently tugged on his hand and led him inside before directing him to the basement door.  Until she could manage to Spike proof the house, the basement would be the safest place for him.  She needed to talk to Dawn before she changed everything.

 

Once downstairs, Buffy turned back toward Spike.  “Why don’t you sleep a bit?  I’ll go by the butcher and bring you some blood later, alright?”  Her voice was gentle, the tone the one her mother had used when Buffy had been sick.  Reluctantly, Spike nodded.  The sun was rising and he was too weak to go anywhere else at the moment.  Buffy set up a cot and after making sure he had everything he needed, she left him and went back upstairs to hear her sister stirring.

 

Buffy was at the stove when Dawn made her way to the kitchen.  Plates of pancakes and bottles of syrup and juices were set on the counter.

 

“Hey.  We’re having a party?”  Buffy turned around to face her sister.

 

“Dawn, we need to talk.  How about we eat outside?”  She said, wanting to have the conversation where Spike wouldn’t be able to hear.  There were things she needed to tell Dawn that she didn’t think he needed to hear yet.  Buffy knew the discussion would be vocal and far from pleasant but she needed Dawn on board and that meant telling her the truth about last year’s event.

 

Curious, and a bit wary, Dawn nodded.  The summer had brought a change in the sisters’ relationship.  Buffy had been more affectionate and more aware of Dawn’s need.  They’d had many discussions during the last months, about Joyce, about Heaven, about Angel but they’d always skirted away from the one topic that they both wanted to talk about.

 

The girls grabbed their plates and going outside, settled on the porch steps. Dawn stayed silent, sensing that her sister needed to talk about something serious.

 

“Dawnie, I need to tell you about Spike.”  Dawn was about to reply harshly that she didn’t want to talk about him, even if she’d been itching to discuss him all summer, when she saw the look on Buffy’s face.  It was her “this is serious, let me talk” look and Dawn knew better than to argue.  Slowly, much as she’d done with Spike earlier, Buffy told Dawn everything that had unfolded between her and the blond vampire.  She told her the truth, omitting only the most graphic details and if Dawn was thankful by her sister’s honesty, she was also deeply shaken.  The many talks they’d had lately had shown her how badly depressed Buffy had been but she’d never known how self-destructive and angry she’d been. 

 

Finally, Buffy grew silent.  She watched the emotions flitting across Dawn’s face, hoping she hadn’t damaged their relationship. 

 

“Buffy I- I didn’t know it was that bad. I- why are you telling me this now?”  She asked.

 

“Because there’s more.”  Buffy then proceed to explain about the soul, about her own feelings for Spike and about the state he was in before she added.

 

“He’s sleeping in the basement.  He needs our help Dawn, he’s so broken and it’s my fault.  Please, I need you with me on this.”  Her gaze asking for absolution, Buffy stared at Dawn.  She knew she was asking a lot of her younger sister, but the last months had proven that Dawn was growing into a sensible young woman.



 

After a long moment, Dawn finally nodded.  “Alright.  If you’re sure it’s what you want, I’ll help.  How do we do this?”  She hadn’t forgiven the vampire that had been her best friend, but she couldn’t say no to Buffy, not when this was obviously so important to her.  It was a rare thing for Buffy to ask for help and the fact that she was doing so was proof to Dawn of how important this was. “I’m not saying everything is okay.  But I’ll give him a chance.”