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“Thank God!” Spike exclaimed as he slammed the door behind him. “You scared me half to death—or more to death!” He could have killed her for scaring him like that! He had told her not to leave him, not to go anywhere on her own, and she should know better by now anyway, growing up on a Hellmouth and all.

He had failed Buffy before – and he would not let it happen again, not as long as he had Dawn to take care of. “You—I could kill you!”

Dawn slowly made her trek down the stairs, her eyes wide with shock. Spike had never spoken to her like that before. She realized now that she probably shouldn’t have run off like she had, but he would have to understand, now, wouldn’t he?

Buffy was back!

Wait, she thought. How am I going to tell Spike that Buffy’s back?

The vampire had loved her sister more than anything in the world. How was she going to tell him?

“Spike,” she entreated slowly, trying to capture the angry vampire’s attention, while she tried to figure out just what she was going to say once she had it.

“I mean it!” Spike told her menacingly. “I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brain stem.”

His chest heaved with emotion that even his rather descriptive words could not describe. He loved the nib, he really did, but why the hell did she have to scare him like that? What was so bloody important that she would go off by herself when she knew that demon motorcyclists were rampaging through her neighborhood?

Dawn was looking at him so strangely. What the hell was going on?

He realized suddenly that he could smell Buffy.

Of course, in this house, he could always smell her, but this was…different. Her scent was more…potent…than usual.

Of course you can smell her, you sod. You are in her bleeding house. Nibblet was probably in her room is all.

Seeing the destruction that the demons had made of the Buffybot had been harder than he would have thought. To see Buffy broken, again…it made him want to scream to the heavens about just how fucking wrong it was. He wished he had never had the bleeding Bot made in the first place. Now all it was, was just a fucking reminder of what could be here… should be here.

It made him sick every time he looked at it. He was glad it was gone.

“Spike,” Dawn entreated, breaking him out of his mental rant, “look.”

Spike looked up the stairs to see the stupid bloody bot walking down toward him. “Yeah? Seen the bloody bot before, didn’t think she’d patch up so…”

Suddenly – Spike’s brain stopped working, frozen in a state of dream-like disbelief.

It was Buffy.

She was looking at him with those gorgeous emerald eyes that he had dreamed of for the last 147 days.

Buffy…

His demon purred with pleasure, drinking in her scent. So familiar, yet so foreign, after so long. With every step she took nearer to him, his demon screamed, MINE! Yet, Spike knew that was not to be. She would never be his; he could never be what she wanted. But then – why was his demon so possessive of her? Why did he feel like he was being pulled toward whatever Buffy wanted?

What she bloody well wants, he reminded himself bitterly, is nothing to do with you, you stupid sod.

But-the way she was looking at him-like she needed him.

Like she loved him!

As Buffy came to a stop on the last step, Dawn decided that it was time to break the ice. “She-she’s been through a lot--with the--death,” Dawn paused awkwardly, looking back and forth from Buffy to Spike. Why were they looking at each other like that? “But I think she’s okay.” Dawn gave Buffy a reassuring smile, which was gently returned by her sister.

She would be okay – wouldn’t she?

Spike couldn’t take his eyes from Buffy. She was real…and back home. He wanted to cry…he wanted to laugh…he wanted to grab her and hold her for all eternity. He wanted to be with her…hear her laugh…Oh God.-he was love’s bitch, wasn’t he?

“Spike?” Dawn asked, pulling him out of his thoughts with concern in her voice. “Are you okay?”

”I’m…” Spike paused, trying to find the words…words that could somehow come out, around the lump in his throat. “What did you do?” he asked in an achingly sorrowful whisper, watching Buffy as she watched him.

“Me?” Dawn asked, her voice high pitched. “Nothing!”

Buffy watched the conversation between her sister and her vampire with a closed expression. From the way they were talking, she was back from the dead for the second time. Or was it third? She couldn’t keep track anymore.

She had to play it cool. She couldn’t give away too much. This could be a trick of some kind.

I’m in hell she thought, bringing her hands up to her chest. This just can’t be a trick! I couldn’t take losing him again!

“Her hands.” Spike suddenly remarked, motioning toward Buffy’s bloody knuckles.

“Uh-I was going to fix them. I don’t know how they got like that.”

“I do.” Spike closed his eyes for a moment. To think of what his angel had had to go through! “Clawed her way out of her coffin, that’s how.” Spike looked at Buffy with tenderness and compassion, wishing that he could just take her into his arms and make all of her hurt go away. “Isn’t that right?”

Buffy looked down, trying to remember what she had told him so many years ago – the first time she had played this scene out. “Yeah…it’s what I had to do.” She looked at Spike with hopeful eyes, realizing that this wasn’t just like the first time around; she could still feel the claim that had bound them nearly two years after this scene had originally taken place.

If she could still feel the claim, could he feel it too?

“Done the same thing myself,” Spike told her. His demon kept screaming at him, telling him to take her in his arms and never let her go. But he couldn’t…not if he valued his unlife. Buffy would never allow him to touch her like that; he had to keep his distance.

Spike! Buffy’s mind screamed. Hear me, please! I love you! I need you!

Buffy watched as Spike tilted his head in apparent confusion. She could hear his demon purring in her own mind.

He heard me! Oh god--Spike!

She was hopeful. For the first time in six months she was hopeful.

“Um--we’ll take care of you,” Spike told her, reaching to touch her shoulder as she made her way down the rest of the stairs. “Come on,” he whispered, his cold fingers gently touching her warm shoulder. The simple touch sent shivers and sparks through both of them. They looked at each other for a moment, before Spike turned his attention momentarily to Dawn. “Get some stuff. Mercurochrome and bandages.”

Spike followed Buffy to the couch, studying her with watchful eyes.

Something was off.

He wasn’t quite sure what, but something was not the same about the Slayer.

As she sat down, he tried to imagine what could possibly be wrong with this moment. His Slayer was alive and there. He sat down in front of her, taking her trembling hands in his. He could feel the warmth from her fingers seeping into his long dead flesh, could hear her heart beating strong and true in her chest.

Buffy looked into the eyes of the man she loved. This was like a dream. If this was hell, at the moment she didn’t care. His hands here holding hers, he was alive.

Well, as alive as he could get.

And he was looking at her with those beautiful cobalt eyes, and she finally felt her life regain the meaning it had lost when she had lost him. She was meant to be with him – meant to love this vampire. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it might break her chest – but she had to remain calm. She didn’t know if she could explain to him what it was that she was feeling.

“How long was I gone?”

Buffy could feel his emotions through their bond. Was she the only one feeling it?

“Uh,” Spike began, only to clear his throat of emotion. “One hundred and forty-seven days yesterday, 148 today.” He smiled hesitantly into her eyes. “But today doesn’t count, does it?”

Buffy smiled slightly, squeezing his hands in her own.

“How long was it for you?” Spike asked, wanting to know everything about why she was there, close enough for him to touch.

Buffy thought about the six months after his death – her six months of hell.

“Longer.”

When Spike only nodded, Buffy decided to take things into her own hands. “Spike…” when his eyes met hers, she continued, “…no matter what happens – please don’t leave me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, choked with emotion.

Spike sighed then, his own emotions coming to the front. “Buffy,” he whispered reverently, pulling her into his arms with relief as she allowed it. “I’m so sorry for all of this, pet. If I could take that day back, I would-I would have found a way.”

“No!” Buffy shouted, burying herself in his arms, her face in his duster. “No- I couldn’t bear it if I lost you again.”

Thinking she meant her own meeting with death, he clucked his tongue. “Oh, pet, I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Buffy looked up then, into the face she knew so well. “Spike, I need to tell you something -- something important.”

“What is it, luv?”

“I…”

The door opened with an audible crash. “Is she here? Where is she?” She turned toward the door, and could see her friends stumbling into the house in their haste to find her. “She’s here!” She heard one of them cry, the excited voice choked with emotion.

“I’ll tell you later, Spike. I promise!” She whispered, getting up and releasing his hands. She turned back to him, a small smile on her face. “Remember, no leaving, okay?”

Spike grimaced, his face contorted with displeasure – as if leaving had been exactly what he had had in mind at that moment. “Whatever you say, luv.”


~~~~~

After Buffy’s hellos to her friends had been completed, and she had assured all of them that she would be fine, and they should all just go home, she was finally alone with Spike and Dawn.

“Dawnie,” Buffy whispered, grabbing her sister and pulling her into a tight hug. “I missed you, honey. I really did.” Buffy was trying hard to contain her emotions, lest she should freak her little sister out with the intensity of her affection. She was determined that no matter what, she would not treat Dawn like she had treated her before – she deserved more than that.

“I missed you, too.” Dawn whispered, burying her face in Buffy’s neck. “I missed you so much!”

Buffy caressed her hair, whispering soothing, meaningless words of comfort. “I know, honey. Things will be better now, okay?” Buffy promised, pulling her back up to look her in the eye. “Now go upstairs and go to bed. You have school tomorrow.”

Dawn pulled a face. “Buffy, you just got back! Can’t you call and say that we had a family emergency or something?” She whined, her lower lip coming into play.

Buffy laughed, shaking her head. “No, Dawn. I will be here when you get home from school, I promise. Now, I need to talk to Spike, so go upstairs and get some sleep. I’ll call Xander and ask him to pick you up for school.”

As Dawn made her way upstairs, after saying goodnight to Spike, Buffy turned her attention to the vampire currently sitting on her couch – patiently waiting for whatever attention she might deign to pass his way. He looked so lost, so uncertain, that she just wanted to hold him forever – or at least until that uncertainty was gone.

She knew this had to be terribly hard for him to understand, and the last thing she wanted was to confuse him. She knew he had questions, but she didn’t know how much of the answers she wanted to provide just yet. If she told him the whole truth all at once, he would likely think she was crazy – experiencing the after-effects of her traumatic ordeal.

Slowly, calmly, she made her way over to the couch and sat down next to him.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

“I know you aren’t too happy with Willow and Xander for bringing me back,” Buffy began, looking down at her hands. “I just don’t want you to hate them for it.”

Spike looked at her for a long time before he answered her. “Buffy, I’m not mad at them for bringing you back. I mean, you are back, so there’s really no reason to be angry, I guess. I just wish they would have let me know what they were doing.” Spike exhaled an unneeded breath before continuing, his voice low and earnest. “Buffy, I worked with them all summer while you were gone…they asked me to take care of the bit all the time…I don’t know, I guess I thought I had earned their trust, is all,” a sardonic grin graced his lips. “Guess not, eh?”

She had no answer for those words, aware that he had already spoken the painful truth. They just sat there and looked at each other for a long time, neither one of them moving. Buffy was so confused. What – how much – should she tell him? Should she tell him that they were mated? Would he be able to feel it, once she had brought it to his attention?

“Spike,” Buffy began again cautiously, taking his hand in hers.

“Yeah, luv?” Spike asked, squeezing her hand with his own in a gesture of encouragement, knowing that there was something she wanted to say, but was having difficulty getting out.

“Do I feel different to you?” She asked, looking into his questioning eyes with a piercing gaze.

Spike’s brow furrowed. “No-why would you feel different, luv?” He asked, his free hand coming up to her face, then gently tracing down one silken cheek. His gaze lingered on his own hand for a long time, before he seemed to snap out of whatever daze he had fallen into, shaking his head in bewilderment. “I’m afraid I don’t really understand your question, luv.” He admitted softly, apologetically.

Buffy gave herself a mental shake, frustrated with her own thoughtlessness, as the truth of the matter finally occurred to her.

Of course he’s not going to feel the bond, stupid! You bonded with future Spike, not this Spike.

Buffy forced a smile to her lips as she replied, “I just wanted to make sure I’m me, you know? That I didn’t come back all wonky or something.”

Spike smiled slightly. “No, pet, no wonky-ness here, just Buffy,”

Buffy smirked. “Good. A non-wonky Buffy is a good Buffy.” she raised her hand to graze his cheek and smiled when he leaned into her caress. “Spike?”

“Yeah, Luv?”

“Will you spend the night here with me?” Buffy asked, holding her breath for his answer.

Spike’s eyes widened. “Uh, sure, Slayer, if that’s what you want.” He replied, his voice once again taking on that hesitant, uncertain note – as if he could hardly believe that she had just asked him.

Buffy dropped her hand from his face. “Good,” she replied, grabbing his hand and getting him up from the couch. “Let’s go to sleep, Spike,” she suggested, leading him toward the stairs.

Spike stopped her, though, his free hand atop hers. “Where are we going, Buffy?”

Buffy looked at him and smiled. “To my room,”

The blood that was left in Spike’s face seemed to drain with a rush, leaving him even paler than usual. “Oh.” He answered weakly.

Buffy giggled. “Come on, Big Bad. Don’t tell me that you’re scared to be alone with me?”

“Oi, Slayer!” He grumbled, gripping her hand tightly and stalking past her, dragging her up the stairs to her room. “That is one thing I am not!”

Buffy laughed – the first real laugh she had in months-since she had lost him for the last time. She knew that she would have to tell him everything eventually – but not tonight. Tonight, she was not going to worry about any of it, anymore. There would be plenty of time for that in the morning – and in the days and months of this strange second chance she had been given.

Not tonight.

Tonight – she was going to focus on nothing but simply being held by the man she loved.