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Drink and interrupted sleep conspired to keep Spike in bed until after sunset. He finally sighed, sat up, and rubbed his face. The unseen ghost next to him sat up too, taking in the sight of his smooth white back. He got up and wandered over to a makeshift bathroom he had carved out with stolen supplies and an unauthorized pipe or two. No toilet, but he enjoyed having a sink and shower. He stood under the cold water for a while, trying to wake up and focus. Maybe I should lay off the booze for a while. He truly did not know what to make of these visions or sightings or whatever you called them.
 
After a while he roused himself, turned off the water and toweled off. He returned to his bedroom and rummaged around for clothes. His invisible guest blushed as much as a ghost could at his nakedness. When did I become Buffy the Voyeur? she asked herself. Her embarrassment made her turn her back while he dressed. Focus! We need to get his attention, not ogle him when he’s unaware!
 
Spike threw his duster on and headed out, trailed by Buffy. He lit a cigarette outside the door of his crypt before stalking off toward the Magic Box. Does he have an infinite supply of those things? Buffy wondered. Spike, on his part, was lost in thought. The more he tried to dismiss his sightings as his imagination, the more they worried at him. Is she trying to tell me something? Warning me? What?
 
Spike was no closer to figuring things out as he got to the Magic Box. They had made a habit of convening there before the nightly patrol. Although what they were going to do now that the Bot was gone, he had no idea. He could probably do the patrols by himself if the Scoobies would just get out of his way. But there was always that spirit of Honoring Buffy’s Memory that kept them coming back for more self-flagellation. One of these days one of them is going to honor her by joining her if they’re not careful.
 
He entered the store to find Xander, Anya, and Willow present. “Tara stayed home with Dawn,” Willow explained. “Dawn’s still a bit shaken up by the whole demon biker thing.”
 
“So what’s the plan?” Spike asked impatiently. He didn’t mind the Scoobies that much most days, although if Xander had a painful accident he wouldn’t shed too many tears. But tonight he was just not in the mood for any of the lot.
 
“We thought maybe if the two of us started at one end of town, and the other two started at the other end, we could meet in the middle?” said Willow.
 
“How about the three of you stay together, and I’ll take the other end m’self,” Spike returned. “I think there is safety in numbers for you folks. If I finish my end, I’ll catch up with you, yeah?”
 
Willow was quietly relieved. To be free of Xander and Spike’s bickering for a night was always welcome. “Fine, let’s go with that.” They divided up the cemeteries and set off.
 
Spike was glad to find a small nest of young and inexperienced vamps in the first cemetery. It allowed him to get out some of his frustrations. The other vamps hardly knew what happened. He sauntered in like one of the gang, and hit them when they least suspected it. Lesson the first, my little fledges. Master vampires are an untrustworthy lot.
 
He continued on through a few more cemeteries, dusting fledges, scanning for errant demons. Finally, he reached the place they had agreed to meet. Buffy’s cemetery. He was there earlier than the others, which he expected, being more efficient at the whole killing thing. He moved through the gravestones until he reached hers. He reached out tenderly and placed his hand on the stone. “Hello, love,” he said quietly. After 148 days, his eyes still watered every single time. However this time, he was not alone.
 
Buffy had followed Spike during the whole patrol, confused by what she saw. He was still patrolling on her behalf. Why? Why was he here at all? But as she saw him quietly weeping at her graveside she realized, He still loves me. How can that be? Not supposed to be possible without a soul, right? She was puzzled by this man –well, vampire – and why he hadn’t moved on. Everyone else had always left, even when she was alive. Why stay when she was dead, or whatever she was at present?
 
Spike sat down and leaned against the headstone. He pulled out a flask and took a drink, idly running his hands through the grass on her grave. Buffy was determined to get his attention. She stood directly in front of him and concentrated with all her will. “SPIKE!” she yelled.
 
Did someone call me? Spike wondered. He looked to the left and right, and saw nothing. Then he looked directly in front of him and his eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet and reeled against the headstone behind him. Buffy was standing in front of him. It had been her voice he heard.
 
“No,” he mumbled. “You’re not here.” He shook his head with wide eyes.
 
“Spike! It’s me. Please. You’re the only one who sees me. Please!” Buffy cried. She was desperate for someone to notice her, to help her figure out what the hell was going on. Tears ran down her pale cheeks.
 
“Buffy? How…?” he stammered. His jaw flapped open, and he couldn’t control it for a while. Then he reached for her. He gasped as his hand passed through her arm. “You’re… a ghost?”
 
“Can you hear me?” Buffy asked, afraid to hear the answer.
 
“Yes,” breathed Spike. He was afraid to move, lest she disappear again.
 
“Oh thank God,” she said. “I’ve been trying for 2 days now to get someone to hear me. You’ve got to help me.”
 
“Help you?” Spike was truly confused, and still not entirely sure he was not dreaming. “How can I help you?”
 
Spike was so preoccupied that he failed to notice Xander, Anya, and Willow approaching through the trees. Willow was about to call out to him when Xander put his hand on her arm. “Who is Spike talking to?” he whispered?
 
Buffy was also unaware of the intrusion. “I was… I think I was in heaven,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “And then there was this tugging and pulling feeling, and then I was here. Only no one could see me. The Scoobies were here, at my grave, but they were running from some demons on motorcycles or something. I don’t know what happened.”
 
“Heaven?” Spike asked. “You got pulled out of heaven?” The implications of that weighed heavily on him.
 
Buffy nodded, “And now, I seem to be a ghost or something. You seem to be the only one who sees me at all, and even then I keep disappearing.”
 
“You were at the house, I saw you,” he said. I knew I wasn’t completely mad.
 
“I thought Dawn or Tara would be able to see me,” she explained. “Spike, why is this happening? Why am I here?”
 
Spike fought to keep his emotions under control as he answered, “I… I don’t know what to say. I just can’t believe you’re…”
 
“Spike, who are you talking to?” Spike whirled around at the sound of Anya’s voice. She and Willow and Xander had decided that they needed to make their presence known.
 
“Don’t you see her?” Spike asked, indicating Buffy’s shade. “Buffy! She’s right here. She’s a ghost, or spirit or something. Buffy, say something!”
 
Buffy called out, “Willow! Xander! I’m right here!” But the three Scoobies just looked at Spike like he had lost it. “Dammit, she’s right there! I can see her, hear her voice. It’s her! She’s asking for help. She doesn’t know why she is here.”
 
Willow spoke calmly to the agitated vampire. “Spike, we know you come here to feel closer to her, but we don’t see anything. Are you sure you haven’t been drinking or something?”
 
“I’m not drunk!” he roared in frustration. “And I’m not mad either. She is right there!”
 
“Spike, time to get over the obsession ok?” said Xander. “She’s… gone. Not coming back.” His voice broke a bit on the last few words. Then he added, “And if she did come back as a ghost, don’t you think she would appear to Dawn? Or one of her friends? Why would she come to you?”
 
Spike threw up his hands in frustration. “I don’t bloody know, do I?” He tried to get his voice under some degree of control. “All I know is that she’s here, and she’s asking me for help!”
 
“Spike,” said Willow. “We’re all tired. You’d better get some sleep, or sober up, or whatever you need to do to calm down. We’re going home.” With that they turned to go.
 
“But… ” sputtered the vampire. The three Scoobies continued on, although occasionally one of them looked back over their shoulders to make sure that Spike wasn’t freaking out or following them. Spike kicked a neighboring tombstone in frustration. “Wankers never do listen to a word I say.”
 
“You still see me?” Buffy asked timidly. She dreaded being alone again. Bad enough to be out of heaven and ghostly, but the horror of being alone was more than she wanted to deal with.
 
“Yes, love,” Spike said quietly. He looked at her as if he would never be done with the sight. It’s her. Her voice. Never thought I’d hear it again.
 
“Spike, what do I do?” Buffy wrung her hands in frustration.
 
Spike jammed his hands in his coat pockets and stared at the ground for a moment. “Can we go back to my place?” Spike inquired. “I think we could do with a bit more privacy if I’m going to be conversing with the air. Maybe we can come up with something if we put our heads together.”
 
Buffy nodded. Spike turned to walk back to his crypt, hands in his pockets, while Buffy walked next to him. The only difference was that Spike walked around trees and tombstones, while Buffy simply drifted through them. Spike still doubted what he was seeing. Is it a trick? Some demon getting back at me? Is it something evil? Why would they throw the Slayer out of heaven? She of all people deserved her eternal reward. What the bloody hell is this all about?
 
Buffy said nothing as she followed Spike. He was clearly upset and fighting his emotions. He seems more upset than Willow and Xander. Why? Why is he still even around? I died. Why did he stay? She had as many questions about Spike as she had about her current state.
 
They reached Spike’s crypt after a while and went inside. Spike took off his coat, and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass. “Sit anywhere you like,” he said as he landed heavily in his one semi-decent chair and poured himself a stiff drink. Buffy looked around at the crypt. It was a mess. She perched on the edge of a stone coffin and dangled her feet, mildly puzzling about why she didn’t sink through. Spike finished his drink and then rubbed his eyes. Don’t weep in front of her like a complete git.
 
“Spike?” asked Buffy. “Are you ok?”
 
“Yeah, I’m alright pet,” he said quietly. “Just… a bit overwhelmed. You were gone so long. Never thought I’d hear your voice again. Guess I was resigned to it.” He poured another glass of whiskey and took a big gulp.
 
“How long was I gone?”
 
“It was 148 days yesterday.” He looked at her searchingly. “How long was it for you?”
 
“Longer,” she answered.
 
He nodded, saying nothing. One probably doesn’t count the days in heaven, I’ll wager. He took another drink. “Can you tell me again what you remember?” he asked finally.
 
“I was… at peace. I was warm. I knew everyone I cared about was ok, and I knew I was loved. I was finished with everything.” Her eyes started welling up with tears again. “Then there was this sudden… force or something. And I was standing on what I guess is my grave. The others were there – Xander, Willow, Anya, Tara – but the second I got there they took off and those biker guys came riding through. The demons didn’t see me either. I walked down toward town. I saw…” she stopped, frowning at the memory.
 
“What?” Spike wondered. He turned a curious glance toward her.
 
“I saw them pull the bot apart,” she finished quietly. “It was a bit unnerving.”
 
“Can’t say I’ll miss it much,” Spike muttered.
 
“Why did you guys repair it anyway?” Buffy asked.
 
Spike took another drink. “Willow thought it would be helpful in convincing the demon population of Sunnyhell that you were still around. Last week they used it to convince Dawn’s school that she had a responsible legal guardian. Not sure what they’re going to do now.”
 
“But the bot didn’t patrol alone all summer, did it?”
 
Spike shook his head, “No. It was the Scoobies, and me, and the Watcher. Willow’s getting pretty powerful with the magic, which helped.”
 
“Giles!” Buffy exclaimed. “Maybe he will be able to see me, or know what to do.”
 
“Watcher went back to England, pet,” Spike said gently.
 
Buffy’s face fell. “Why?” she asked, with a slight quiver in her voice. He left Dawn and the others to fend for themselves?
 
“Think he just couldn’t deal anymore,” Spike answered. “Gotta understand, hasn’t been easy for anyone. He loved you like a daughter.”
 
“But Dawn?” Buffy’s concern for her sister was palpable. “Who is going to look after her and keep her safe?”
 
“Well, the witches live there now, you know,” said Spike. “And I keep an eye on her as well. I remember my promise.” Spike fixed his blue eyes on hers. “If I had kept her safe in the first place you wouldn’t have had to jump.” He looked away then, taking another drink of whiskey.
 
They sat in silence for a while. “What do we do now?” Buffy asked finally.
 
“Dunno. Don’t have a whole lot of experience dealing with ghosts.”
 
“Well, I don’t have any experience being a ghost, so I guess we’re on the same ground there,” Buffy replied. “Maybe you could try to explain things to them again. When you’re sober that is.”
 
“I’m not drunk,” Spike started. Then he stood up, swayed a bit, and eyed the nearly empty bottle. “Well, ok, I’m a little drunk. But I’m not sure how to convince them I’m telling the truth. They tolerate me as extra muscle, not much else.”
 
“Just try, ok?” Buffy pleaded. “This… nonexistence is hell. I can’t touch anything. Can’t help Dawn, can’t defend anyone against anything. I just want to go back to where I was. Please.” Her eyes started watering again.
 
“I’ll do everything I can,” Spike said gravely. “I give you my word.”
 
TBC