AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oscar and Liam are taking a hiatis. :) Pure Spuffy ahead.
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Buffy looked at her daughter’s trusting eyes and slowly walked over to her and knelt down. She reached for Joni’s little hand, as she watched the other hand wrap protectively around her tattered toy rabbit, “Yes, Sweetheart. The prince does save the princess…in fairytales. This isn’t a fairytale.”

Spike stood by and watched the exchange with interest. The harshness of the world he’d left behind was still fresh in his mind. How this little girl was able to forget the things they’d both shared and seen was a mystery to him. But then, when he had his little Dove with him, things seemed easier. Perhaps she had been spared the brunt of it.

She was still so young. Perhaps she had forgotten everything he couldn’t. It was his one hope for her, and to see it draining from her was simply more than he could bear. He couldn’t allow that hope to be taken from her, no matter how beautiful the thief was.

He voiced his concern with a soft growl. Buffy turned her head and her eyes widened, not sure what had caused him to growl. The soft eyes made her relax a little, and she released a puff of breath as she squeezed her daughter’s hand, “Your Daddy obviously disagrees with me, Joni,” Buffy said softly, remembering what she was like when she was eight years old. At Joni’s age, she still believed in the Easter Bunny, and Joni had already been through so much in her small life, she really couldn’t blame Spike for wanting her to have this little lie a bit longer, “And, you know what?” she asked, turning her attention back to Joni and her little rabbit, “I think he’s right, and so are you,” she smiled warmly and tweaked Jonina’s nose, “I like your bunny. I don’t remember giving that to you,” she said cautiously, careful not to frighten her, “so that place must have really been magic, huh?”

“Uh huh!” Joni nodded, cheerily.

Buffy looked over her shoulder at her husband and her mate, who has quickly and quietly moved closer, as if to protect his little family. The look on his face told her that his experience had been much less pleasant than hers.

That much she knew. It was his pain- his bond with her- that had driven her to try to pull them out; that made her beg him to leave that frozen waste with her.

It nearly broke her when he denied her.

She looked back at her daughter’s soft brown eyes, eyes that told her that she had known nothing but warmth and love in that place and knew that Spike had somehow made it that for her. She’d seen his little oasis. It was a place she had wanted to stay, herself. She even remembered that he had said Joni thought of her as a princess, and couldn’t wait to go back with her to the great adventure- in a world without him.

“Well,” Buffy said, brightly, trying to disguise the deep hurt and sorrow she felt for Spike, “you look tired, and so does your Daddy. Why don’t you go back to bed?” suddenly she remembered the gifts that were still waiting to be freed from Georgina’s van, “You can sleep in that special sleeping bag your cousin Stephen brought you, okay. And then tomorrow there will be gifts for you, under the tree. I promise.”

Joni’s eyes widened in surprise and she bounced a little, “Really, Mommy, why?”

“Well your Daddy’s back. That’s reason enough, isn’t it?” she smiled broadly.

“Yes,” Joni squealed as she hugged her mother tightly, “it is!” she quickly let go of Buffy’s neck and ran to Spike, who bent to scoop her up in his arms, “I’m glad you’re back, Daddy. I missed you,” Joni said as she kissed him on the cheek.

Spike turned his eyes to hers, as he held her, and bowed his head, touching his forehead to hers. He purred softly, the sound coming from the top of his throat like a whisper. Joni murmured back to her father, and he set her on her feet again and watched her and her toy bunny head off to her tiny room to sleep.

Buffy sighed. He looks so tired. And not just that, he looks older too, physically. He’s been through so much, because of Angel. First, the Hellmouth and the amulet- I’m still not sure I believe what Giles said. But…he looks so tired…It has to be true. Is it true? Then the fight with the Circle, and Drusilla and what she did to me, and to him. That cost him so much. And then… “Spike…” as he turned toward her, Buffy nearly lost her breath again. She saw before her the blue-grey eyes of the man from Willow’s spell. The one that called himself Homer. The one who had told her what had happened to Spike in that world, told her what he’d seen, and all he’d given up. Could it really be true? Could it be… “Spike…?” he looked at her, patiently waiting for her to finish speaking. She smiled with relief when he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, looking at her, “I’m going to go downstairs and tell Georgie that it’s okay to unload the toy store she has stashed in the back of her van,” as his brows furrowed apprehensively, she assured him, “I’ll be back. Go to bed,” she soothed, “you look so tired…”

She paused at the top of the stairs and heaved a sigh. Her whole body shivered when she felt his hand on her shoulder. His hands held her firmly even as her knees began to weaken at the look in his eye. They were dark with passion, need and pain. He was looking at her as if she was the only thing that existed in his world at that moment. It was as if he needed her to live, and was clinging to her as if he would drown without her, and would drown because of her, too. But, as his lips seized hers in a searing kiss, he didn’t seem to care.

And that was okay, because suddenly she felt like she was drowning too. She felt as though she’d been lost for years, and was now finally able to taste how wonderful it was to be found. And, it tasted so sweet that she knew she would never want anything ever again.

In a heated flash of images, she knew. She wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was because of her feelings of loss, and then suddenly having him with her, or if it was due to his pain, but it didn’t matter; what mattered was that she understood, “Oh God,” she sobbed into the crook of his neck, “I missed you so much! I’ll never be able to thank you enough…”

Her heart swelled when she heard the voice she missed so much whispered her name, “Buffy…need you…Save me…”

“You saved her, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice wavering with sorrow and thankfulness, “Homer too…” she whispered, “That was you, too. I don’t know how. But, that was you. He…”she breathed in his scent as she felt herself being lifted. She was weightless and clinging to him for dear life, because his life was as dear to her as her own, “…You told me…” she could barely breathe; she was dizzy with need, and loss, and the happiness of reunion, “…what you gave up. Why would you do that? Why would you give that to him? Why would you do that…” she sobbed softly against him, “…Why would you give that…to Angel?”

“Had to…” he growled, his voice rough with desire and need, “…To save you. Need you…” he whispered gently in her ear as they both fell silent in the throes of passion.
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