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CHAPTER 8
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February 13, 2005

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Buffy woke after the best nights sleep she could remember since her mom was alive. "Mom", she thought fondly, "she always seemed to like Spike. I really should have talked to her more about men." But today wasn't going to
be about regrets or mistakes.

Spike wasn't the only one with another chance laid out in front of him. Buffy wasn't going to just keep coasting, keep assuming the next chance would always be there. That day in the hellmouth, watching Spike burn to ash,
that memory underlined it once and for all. Sometimes you ran out of time. She'd not do that again. No more living with regrets.

Spike rolled out of bed to the sharp blare of the alarm clock. He planned to get a little time in working with Wes on the translation before Buffy came to help him play hookey. Buffy, over a year and a half of feeling a Buffy sized hole in his life and now she was here. That had to mean something. She came to him, that had to be an important change. "Just go with the flow this time, mate.", he reminded himself.

It was all he could do to drag his eyes from the clock as he worked with Wesley on the document. "Spike, is there somewhere you need to, be because you don't appear to be here, actually.", remarked Wesley. "Anything you'd care to share?", he offered.

"Buffy's here. Came in yesterday, nearly gave me a heart attack...well if my heart still worked that is. Don't have to wonder if I should tell her anymore now. Gonna' spend the day together, catch up and all. Not sure where it's heading
or if it's heading anywhere at all but a bloke's gotta' give it a shot. I know sod all about much in this world, but I do know I love her and always will.", he shared with one of the first at W&H who had befriended him.

"Well, Spike, I certainly am not one to give advice on matters of the heart. Not a terribly good track record myself, I fear. However, I would say that your brief experience with death and as a ghost should point up to you the
brevity of life, such as it is. What I mean to say is, well, I'd say give it a jolly good go and good luck to you both.", Wesley said with sincerity.

Harmony stopped Spike on his way back to his office to let him know that Angel had tried, once again, to call him and, "maybe you should check in with him 'cause he seems to think you're a big pile of dust again or something.",
she finished.

"Harm, you can tell our brooding leader that I'm still bloody well intact next time he calls. I'm gonna' be out of the office until later.", he instructed the simpering secretary.




--------------------meanwhile in London------------------------------

"Willow, I swear I was only looking out for Buffy's best interests. Geez, this IS Spike we're talking about here. I've been dealing with Spikey, he hasn't changed, not really. Buffy deserves better, you know that.", Angel said for
the millionth time.

"Got part of it right at least, Angel.", Willow began. "Spike hasn't changed much since the soul. He loved Buffy before he had it and was doing lots of good stuff too, even when Buffy was dead. He's not two different people like you and
his soul doesn't go on vacation every once in a while....hey, none of him does. Okay, maybe now that he has a job and all he might take a vacation vacation, but I mean he doesn't walk out on Buffy when she needs him, even when she's
mean and stuff. He would do anything for her and loves her totally. He nearly died for her more than once and finally did. I don't know where she'd find anybody 'better', do you?", she addressed both Angel and Giles in her
glance.

Willow had firmly chastised both of Buffy's "protectors" about the web of lies they had found themselves trapped in now. Neither thick skulled defender of Buffy's virtue had any bright moment of illumination so far and Willow
was out of patience with both of them.

"Hey, Willow about the other night at Buffy's ...with all this stuff that's happened I haven't had a chance to really ask. Just what was Buffy supposed to call you about that got you worried?', Angel asked.

Willow laid out Buffy's failed plan to Angel's amazed expression. "I guess you guys didn't, you know, get all happy and all so I wasn't needed.",she finished.

"So, you're saying you could reensoul me without the bad side effect...you could do that?", he asked an incredulous look on his face.

Willow saw the look change to one of hopeful wonder on Angel's face at the possibility and said, "You know, maybe we could see about fixin' that soul problem ofyours anyway. You gonna' be in town a while?", and she smiled at his grin. "Wow, he DOES have more than one facial expression!". she thought in surprise.


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Buffy arrived just past noon and went straight to Spikes office. He wasn't there but she could tell he was somewhere in the building probably doin' the researchy stuff with Wes", she decided. The building was fairly empty but she
never had trouble sensing Spike, even if there had been the workweek crowd in the building..

Fred popped her head in the room and saw Buffy standing there. "Hi, you're Buffy right? I heard you were here and knew Spike was still in with Wesley so I thought I'd drop in and let you he didn't skip out on you or anything....not that he'd do that, skip out on anyone, especially you....no Spike is really much more polite than Angel would have you believe. Anyway, he'll be done soon and I'm sure he would want you to make yourself at home...well he doesn't really LIVE here, but just feel free, you know. Well, If you need anything, just ask. I'm Fred, Fred Burkle, by the way, Spike is my friend. I'm glad you finally came.", she said in a rush.


Buffy blinked at the slight woman before her and then smiled. "I'm so glad Spike has friends here. I'm afraid we weren't always nice to him in Sunnydale and he deserves friends.", and she shook Fred's hand.

After the verbal whirlwind left Buffy alone, she took the opportunity to look around a bit. Yesterday she had only seen Spike, the wonder of him actually being there. Today she had time.

The office suited him somehow. She remembered how he had managed to make a burial vault and hole in the ground feel homey once. He had put his crypt together with things he would find or steal, but his taste had been excellent.

The same artistic feel was here in the office in the few but fine pieces of sculpture and colorful wall hangings. The color choice all made a person feel comfy as did the style of furniture. There was a refinement and sensual aura to it. Buffy couldn't wait to see his home. So weird thinking of Spike with a home and an office. "Wow, Spike has a job!", Buffy marveled," anything was possible in the universe."

Buffy settled in to await Spike's return. "Spike's return...a bloody miracle.", Buffy thought, then laughed at the pure Spike phrase she'd used. God he really was a part of her.

All that time she denied her heart, told herself that she'd found her true love when she was fifteen and lost that only love by the time High School was over. Had she been nuts??? Spike was the one who watched soap operas, she'd
just tried to live one! She giggled at her own stupidity.

Spike heard the sweet sound of a happy Buffy giggle coming from his office. He wondered what it was she found so amusing. "Oh God, I hope she didn't bloody well snoop about and find those poems.", Spike thought then froze in fear.

"Please, please...any Power who cares at all for a stupid sod like me....don't let this happen again. I couldn't bear it to have HER make sport of my bad rhymes.", he prayed. He steeled his nerve, took a deep breath and reached for
the door knob to meet his possible doom. "I will not cry. I'm not that weepin' wanker anymore. Let her laugh. I'll join her.", he worked hard to convince himself. "Once more into the breech.", he muttered under his breath and
turned the knob.

"Hello slay...um, Buffy.", he said in relief. She didn't seem to have the folder with his pathetic poems, so maybe his secret was still safe. "Thank you!, he whispered with uplifted eyes. " I was doin' a bit of work with the ex-watcher
while waitin' for you. Hope you weren't bored too much., he said in explanation.

"Naw, gave me a chance to check out corporate Spike. Gotta' say I like the look. It suits you somehow.," she said. Yesterday she had been so involved with his just being there in the flesh, she had only thought about his new look
when remembering the day while trying to drift off to sleep. He had worn black, but the slacks had been tailored and dressy. His shirt had been a black button down dress shirt.

Today he was wearing navy pin striped, cuffed dress slacks with a crisp white shirt. He had on a red power tie that was loosened at the neck and his French cuffs were folded up to just below the elbow. He looked like he had just stepped out of a current issue of GQ. He took her breath away. If she were honest, he always had.

"wow, you look so good. I mean, the whole Billy Idol look worked great as ‘Big Bad’, but gotta’ say, the update is…..", she trailed off while looking at him appreciatively.

"Thanks luv, got Lorne to thank for the new look.", he admitted. "Lorne?", Buffy asked. "Yeah, green bloke, red eyes and horns. He didn’t do the makeover himself, thank God, had some of his clients come in last summer to do an upgrade on me.", he said and smiled.

"Was kinda’ funny.", he shared the memory with Buffy. "He told Harmony to ‘get the fab five on a 911 call’. She thought he meant the police first, then decided he’d need a company necromancer to bring back John and George.
The little nit got her fabs mixed up and thought he wanted a Beatles reunion.", he laughed out loud. "They did a good job they tell me, mirrors, ya’ know, no help to me. That Carson fella’ was a bit too interested in parts of the makeover but they were al nice enough all things considered.", Spike shared. "My tree’s not quite in their forrest, but they were okay.", he finished the story.

As for Buffy, she wore a cream colored dress with soft lines that clung just right to her curves. She had deliberately worn her hair down, remembering how he had always loved her hair. She felt a moment of shame earlier when she remembered cutting it just to spite him when he had dared to compliment her on its beauty. She'd been such a bitch to him then he'd still complimented her on the cut. "That's Spike," she thought fondly, "loves me no matter what
.....at least I hope he still does.".

"Your hair is really long now, Buffy.", he noted. "I don't remember it ever being quite that long, it's lovely.", he said softly.

"I've been letting it grow, glad you like.", she said smilingly. "What do you say to us finding some shady spot and try to get past the awkwards?", she invited.

"Not a lot of shade in L.A., pet,", he reminded her. "Don't want you to think I'm bein' pushy, but you did say you'd like to see my place. Maybe we could pick up lunch and talk there. It's a big step up from the crypt and an improvement on my first basement digs here.", he promised.

"Sounds like a plan, lead on William.", she urged.

Spike stopped briefly to speak to a handsome black lawyer and a rather loudly dressed demon while Buffy waited at the elevator.

"Yeah, that’s my Buffy. We’re gonna’ go have a bite, not me doin’ the bitin’, mind. I’ll be out of the office the rest of the day. Be nice not to get any pages from either of you tonight, okay?", he said mostly to Gunn.

"Sure thing Spike, hey if I had a lady lookin’ that hot who was lookin’ at me like Buffy is you....just sayin’. Have a good time, Blondie and just leave the pager at home. I think we can survive a night or two without your bad ass
self on call.", Gunn reassured Spike and patted him on the back.

"Say soulfull one, if you need theater tickets or anything ‘special’ while the goddess is in town, you know the door to my office is always open for you. Anything to further the cause of romance and happy vamps!", Loren chimed in
cheerfully.



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They stopped briefly at a small Thai resturant to pick up lunch and continued to a quiet older residential area with lots of established vegetation and plenty of young families.

Spike had an actual house! It was a smaller version of Buffy's old home, a sort of bungalow with a deep front porch and lots of trees and flowers. He told Buffy that he had gotten a great deal from a client and it felt like home when
he saw it.

The grand tour showed a home lovingly furnished and cared for. Dark wood gleamed and soft pale fabric invited, speaking of comfort. No clutter, but plenty of Spike's personality showed through. Everything was classicly timeless, except the hi-tech electronics showcasing the wide screen, hi-def home theater. Buffy had to wonder if Spike still watched "Passions" and if it looked better in Hi-def.


Buffy realized she shouldn't be surprised at Spike's home. He had made a hole in the ground homey after all.

She felt oddly shy there with him. He had changed a bit. A little less restless, more focused. She hoped her reentry into his life wouldn't take that from him. Funny how both of her vampires seemed to flourish in her absence. Both had become true champions of those in need once they had taken their eyes off of her. That realization saddened her somewhat.

Loving her had caused them both to WANT to do and be good, but leaving her had done the trick in completing the change.

Lunch was delicious and the conversation interesting. Spike had begun to tell stories about places he had been. He left out any yucky details and kept it totally PG and fun for the family. He had done a lot of traveling and seen a lot of things that Buffy was amazed at hearing. time seemed to fly.

Spike had retreated into his small kitchen. He still was having trouble believing it was real. Buffy was here in his home! Flesh and blood, too, not just the stuff of his dreams.

He longed to jusy hold her as he had done those nights in Sunnydale. To hold her close to his heart, that heart that seemed to almost beat again when she let him close. He was afraid to get his hopes up too high. The fall might just
break him this time.

Too often in the past he had allowed himself to believe that she loved him. He told himself she had used the word "can't" deliberately when denying the love she felt. Then, at the end, he realized she probably didn't love him. Well, she loved him...just wasn't IN love with him. The pull between hope and this "truth" he had come to believe at the end had been warring within him since his return. That was what had kept him there and away from Buffy. Now, she was here and he'd have his answer. The only problem was that he wasn't sure if he was ready for the answer.


He came in with two wine glasses and a sweet, tasty Merlot. It occurred to him that this was Valentines eve. Tomorrow would be Valentines day and likely to find him either happier than he had ever dreamed he could be, or with a heart in so many pieces no one would ever be able to find a piece big enough to drive a stake through.

"What if he doesn't love me anymore?", she wondered. What if I managed to kill off all those feelings, feelings a vampire wasn't supposed to be able to have at all.

Spike was a miracle! Doing and feeling things all the "experts" said could not be done or felt. Her miracle, and she had done far worse than reject him. She had used him, building his hopes with her actions while destroying them with her words. Finally, she had cast him away like a toy no longer wanted. She always had been hard on her toys.

Still, he did have the same soft look in his eyes when he gazed at her. Maybe she hadn't lost her last chance.

"Got a little fireplace here, luv.", he said chuckling. "Yeah, kinda' stupid havin' a fireplace; Bein' a vampire and havin' already burnt to ash once, I know.", he finished and then smiled. "Not too bright, me and Angel", he continued, "him with his love for convertibles and me with a bleedin' firelight fetish. Suicidal, that's what we are. Maybe it's just the L.A. vibe.", he looked at her as if expecting some answer to his musings.

Buffy merely replied, "a fire would be nice, Spike, Thank you.".

They couldn't have asked for better atmosphere. A warm fire, candlelight, good wine, soft music and each other. All that was lacking was courage.

Two heroes of the people, two who had died for the world and were willing to do so again if needed, dancing around three small words.

So dance they did. Bare feet on soft carpet, to the sad and plaintive voice of Sarah McLaughlin. The sound of the music only broken by the occasional chime of the wall clock.

Buffy looked at the clock as it chimed on the quarter hour mark and noticed there were only fifteen minutes left until Valentines day, the day to celebrate love and acknowledge lovers. Time to dig deep for the courage she showed effortlessly in battle.


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