Telephone

AUTHOR: Taramisu
WRITTEN: 3/04
E-MAIL: taramisu1@yahoo.com
SUMMARY: Buffy can't forever stay in the dark about Spike's return, can she?

SPOILERS: AtS "Damaged"
RATING: PG-13 (plus a momentary R for one bad, bad word)

“It was a school girl’s game of telephone, it was.” Spike knocked back another swig of liquor while Lindsey looked on without an ounce of interest. “Why the chits can’t learn to keep their soddin’ mouths shut, I’ll never know!” The loud clink of the glass meeting the bar echoed through the empty establishment.

“Aaaand that’s why you can’t fight evil tonight…because of a phone?”

He was intelligent looking enough - almost like an attorney - but sometimes the git could be mighty dense. Spike entertained the theory that the fortune-teller migraines made him a bit dumb around the edges. “No, not a phone,” Spike slurred. He let go of his drink and turned to look at the man. Then he looked at Lindsey’s identical twin to the left. “I may be a bit pissed here, Doyle. Got two of yah glarin’ at me. Wha’d ya say we get out of here?”

The bartender raised his eyebrow at Lindsey and pointed at the Budweiser clock. “Looks as if it’s closing time anyhow, buddy. Let’s go.”

The black leather clad figure tried to stand, but clumsily stumbled into the stool next to him. Lindsey took him by the arm, but Spike pulled out of the clinch, lost his balance again, and only after toppling against the bar, allowed his companion to assist him. The two walked down the streets in silence for several minutes. Lindsey’s mind had begun to wander, so Spike’s sudden outburst made him jump a little. “I mean, it’s not like I owe her anythin’.” Spike blurted, “I’m a bloody vampire! I can’t very well be expected to act human, now can I?” He stared at Lindsey, looking for some crumb of understanding. Lindsey gave him the assurance he needed by nodding slowly and symapthetically.

“That’s what I thought! See?” Spike pointed to Lindsey, then himself. “You and me, we understand each other. Yeah?” He patted Lindsey on the back a bit too hard and the man grunted as he stumbled forward a few steps.

Miraculously, Spike’s basement apartment was right up ahead. Lindsey could drop him off there, let him sleep it off, then continue with project ‘Bait and Switch’ in the morning. Unfortunately, Spike had other plans. There apparently was a tale that needed telling, and it was made clear by Spike’s inadvertent game face that the human would be going nowhere until it was complete. So, Lindsey settled himself in for the story.

Andrew had managed to assemble all the critical members for his teleconference. He never bothered to take into consideration how much calls to Italy, Rio and the Africa cost. This fact irked Giles to no end. And, had Giles figured out that Andrew actually held these little conferences from his bedroom, while clad only in his Darth Vader boxers, they would have been banned for ever more.

“Willow! Hello. Thanks for joining the conference.” Ever since joining the New and Improved Council, Andrew's level of irritatingness had increased ten fold. The pipe was just the first straw. Every time he showed up “smoking” the thing, Giles had to force himself to refrain from smacking the boy. But this new habit he had of calling meetings was beyond annoying.

“Well, now that you’ve woken me up at 3 am, you want to tell me what this is all about?”

“It’s a meeting. Don’t you just love the wonders of modern day technology? I mean, all of you, my friends, are scattered across the planet, yet we can still communicate wi…”

Giles’ clipped tones interrupted Andrew. “Just get on with it, Andrew. How did things go in L.A. with Angel and the Slayer?”

“Not anymore we don’t. Did you have any trouble getting Dana out of there?” Giles asked, getting right to the point.

“WH, you know, Wolfram and Hart?” Andrew explained. “Once I played the ‘Buffy’ card, Angel was butter in my hands. It’s a good thing I didn’t have to worry about convincing Spike…” Andrew froze like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t give up the secret. He was Sam to Spike’s Frodo and would never let him down come hell or big spiders. “…er…Mike...to let me take Dana. You know, because that Mike has a lot of influence in the organization. Mike does, that is.”

“You know, um, he, uh, is their liaison to…the…big guys. He’s their connection. But it’s okay. I just said to Mike, ‘I’m taking her and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.’”

“Yeah, he recognized my authority as the top man in these matters with the Council and stood aside while I took her into my custody.”

Andrew took advantage of their continued silence to change the subject slightly. “Anyhow, it was Dana we had a tough time with. That girl’s really not all there. Kept going on about heads and hearts and dust. Mucho Loco if you ask me. She’s looking forward to a long life in a straight jacket and a padded roo…”

“Enough! It’s not her fault, Andrew. It’s mine.” Buffy’s voice boomed over the line. “I’m not saying that I…that we shouldn’t have done it, but it’s my fault that her problems…” Buffy paused to take a deep breath and complete her thought. “It’s hard enough to be a Slayer when you’re normal.” No one spoke after that, so she continued. “We will care for her. We’ll make sure she’s treated with all the dignity due to a Slayer. I won’t let them use or abuse her like the old Council would have.”

“That can never end well.” Xander rolled his eye even though he was the only one who could see the gesture.

“If we’re going to get anywhere with our Straight Jacket Slayer, she’s going to need someone to connect with. Someone she knows. Now, this may actually turn out to be a bad idea given that she thinks he’s evil and all, but maybe Spike could sit with her and…”

Andrew’s eyes grew wide as he realized his mistake. “Yeah, Spike, my…cat…can, um, be good therapy. My cat is named Spike. Spike is my kitty. He’s very good with…people…and stuff. Dana got the business end of his claws and now she thinks he’s evil. She even tried to stake him!” He quickly followed that up with, “I-I-I gotta go now. Bye.” With that, Andrew hung up. As the slamming of the phone echoed through his apartment, Andrew wondered to himself why he had such a big mouth and a short memory. ‘Forgive me, Spike. Forgive me.’

“I knew he was gay, but gay for Spike?” Just as quickly as she said it, Willow changed her mind. “Or, on second thought, that could make a whole lot of sense.” She lost herself in thought for a few moments as she remembered the lean but well muscled vampire.

“Dana knows Andrew’s cat?” Giles sounded stumped, and across the globe, the former Scoobies imagined – and even thought they heard – him cleaning his glasses furiously.

It was Xander who spoke up. “I’m not sure, but I think the new violently disturbed and cuckoo Slayer, who is now under our ‘protection’, is secretly having an affair with Andrew’s cat, Spike, who is so named because Andrew is having gay thoughts about a vampire who went up in flames months ago while trying to save the world. Do I have it right so far?” There was no response. “Someone really needs to send Andrew to a shrink.”

Just then, an idea hit Willow. “Ooo! Maybe Angel or one of his ‘employees’ did something to Andrew. You know, messed with his mind. Maybe they were looking for information and accidentally short-circuited something up there?”

Spike gingerly walked over to the refrigerator and fished out two beers. “Want one, mate?”

Lindsey eyed him cautiously. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Spike?”

Willow had considered that talking to an employee of Wolfram and Hart was a bad idea. Actually, she was utterly convinced it was a bad idea. But something about Fred struck her the first time they met. Fred was a gentle, honest soul. And perhaps a little Wiccan charm would go a long way. “Yeah. Well, I…we’re worried about him. He just hasn’t been himself since he returned from your city. And if Andrew doesn’t want to talk about something, there’s no way to get it out of him.” Willow hoped that lie wouldn’t taint her karma for too many months. “He’s such a sucker for a pretty face and I wondered if he talked to you about anything…odd. Did he mention anything strange happening while he was in L.A.? Perhaps a mind alteration or something equally silly?”

Willow let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, nothing. Andrew likes to imagine…things…from time to time. Once he had us all believing that he had been abducted by aliens and forced to wear a tu-tu while whistling show tunes and…you’re not buying any of this, are you?”

“Okay. Here’s the deal. When we had our post mission conference, Andrew kept mentioning someone we all knew. But, see, the thing is, this guy went up in flames last May. He didn’t say anything to you about a guy named…”

Hearing his name from Fred’s mouth shocked Willow. “Yeah! How’d you know?”

“So, he was talking about him then.” Willow felt terrible for Andrew. Here, he had this huge gay-crush on a vampire, only to have Spike die before he could proclaim his love. She knew intimately how it felt to lose a loved one.

“Of course. We all talk about him. Especially Angel. I’d have liked to be a fly on the wall when those two lived together.”

“I never got the idea that they were close before Spike died. Does Angel miss him that much?”

“Miss him? He doesn’t have the time to miss him. Spike’s never far from… ”

Willow interrupted Fred. “I see. He must keep himself pretty busy running the evil law firm. It probably helps keep his mind off of losing Buffy, Cordelia, and Spike too.”

“Losing Spike? He hasn’t lost…oh.” Realization hit Fred like an anvil in those goofy roadrunner cartoons. “You…they…he…oh boy.” Fred finally understood why the conversation was making the kind of sense that…wasn’t. They didn’t know Spike was back. Why didn’t they know Spike was back?

“Um, well, I guess he had his reasons for not telling y’all. But, Spike? He’s alive. Well, not alive exactly, but, you know, undead.”

“He came back shortly after his Sunnydale barbecue. I can understand why he didn’t tell you guys right then. He was a ghost, after all, and couldn’t leave L.A.”

“But once he was recorporealized, I thought he would have made a bee-line for the phone…or a plane.”

“Then he lost his hands and that was a good excuse as any, I guess, for not calling. Can’t really lift the receiver with your feet.”

By this point, Willow was doing a good impersonation of a fish with her mouth opening and closing.

Fred felt terrible. Obviously Spike had purposely left Buffy and her gang in the dark about his return. “Willow. You can’t tell Buffy.”

“Spike didn’t contact her for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is, but I’d hate to betray him.” When Willow failed to respond, Fred added, “Please?”

Lindsey watched the vampire’s eyes drift closed and head loll to the side before he smiled lopsidedly and carefully began to stand up. ‘Thank God he finally ran out of steam,’ he thought. ‘I don’t have time for this. Eve’s gonna…’ Suddenly, a strong grasp halted his surreptious motion.

‘Or maybe I’ll be staying a little longer,’ Lindsey thought with some bitterness as he resumed his seat as slowly as he gave it up. “Nowhere, Spike. Nowhere. Go on with your story.”

Spike shifted in the chair a bit, readjusting his family jewels. “Now, where was I?”

***********

“Willow! It’s Dawn. Now, listen. Buffy’s birthday is coming and I want to surprise her.”

Dawn sneered at the receiver. “Noooo, you poophead.” Willow smiled at the child-like insult. “She’s been Mopey Slayer every since…well, you know.”

But Dawn did not find it humorous…or helpful. “Come on, Willow. I’d be the last person to give Mopehead a break, especially after all those times she stole Mom and Dad’s attention and hogged Mr. Gordo. But I really think she needs some good old-fashioned cheering up from an old friend. But if there aren’t any of those on this planet, then I guess I’ll just have to bake her the usual birthday cake. I wonder if there’s any pistachios in the cupboard…” She knew very well what she was doing. No one could resist the Dawn-guilt-trip. Not Mom, not Xander, not Giles, and especially not Willow.

“Come to…what, are you nuts? This is the busy season for us. Okay, there is no ‘busy’ season, but Giles has 16 new Slayers to contact and three of the Watchers are out for various reasons. We’re just too busy.” There was a deafening silence on the Italian end of the line. “And you’re going to blackmail me if I don’t go, right?”

“Yup. Got the evidence under my bed, all nice and ready for just this kind of circumstance. I even have a few new juicy items that I’m sure Kennedy would…”

The horrible “squeeing” sound coming through the line ran down Willow’s spine and left her with just a tad less hearing. She involuntarily dropped the phone, and plugged her ears with her index fingers. Sure, Doc Wilson told her to never put anything in her ears smaller than her elbows, but this seemed like a good exception. Once the supernatural screech ended, she picked up the phone to hear (at a few decibels lower than before) the girl rambling.

“…and I can’t think of a single person she would rather see right now! Thank you so much!”

“Oh, I’m sure she’d rather see Spike right now. I still don’t get why he hasn’t contacted her.” Willow froze. Her mouth. It just expelled things of the bad. Bad things out of the nasty, nasty mouth. What was wrong with her today?! She dropped her head into her free hand and silently moaned. Her mouth had an appointment with a bar of soap later this evening, that was for sure.

“Um…uh…Willow? What’s going on?” Dawn knew from experience to expect the impossible to become possible. But this was just too good to be true.

“Nothing. Nothing at all, Dawnie. It’s just Aunt Willow is a little overworked and isn’t making much sense right now. I’ll call you tonight with my flight plans. Okay? Bye, bye.”

“Now wait a cotton pickin’ second there. You don’t get to drop a bombshell like that on me then leave!”

“Oops? Oops?! What do you mean you can’t tell me? My best friend is back from the dead and you weren’t going to tell me?! What is going on here Willow?”

“Well, first off, he wasn’t your best friend. Just before he…died…you were still mad at him. Secondly, well, he doesn’t want us to know he’s back.”

“He doesn’t want…” Dawn’s words stopped and were replaced by the unmistakable sounds of crying.

“Oh, Dawnie. I’m so sorry. I’m sure it’s not about you. It’s probably one of those silly guy things that we women don’t get. Please don’t cry.”

“He doesn’t want us to know he’s alive, Willow. What part of that could possibly be right? Don’t you think he’d want the people who love him to know he’s fucking alive?!”

Willow didn’t have the heart to chastise her for the foul language, nor the ridiculous notion that Spike was loved by any of them. Direct confrontation never worked well with an upset Dawn. So, Willow drew her hand through her hair and took a deep, cleansing breath. “Well, it’s not like any of us were…nice to him when he was around,” she said gently.

Only after there was no further comment did Willow continue. “I don’t know his reasons, Dawn, but Fred insisted that we not tell Buffy.”

“What?! Angel knows about Spike but we don’t? That’s just…wrong…on so many levels. They don’t even like each other!”

“Is he in that evil law firm too? What’s his phone number? What’s his address? I need to talk to the big jerk.”

“I…I guess you could call Wolfram and Hart and see if Angel can locate him for you.”

Dawn just shook her head. “How could he not only abandon us, but also join up with the first evil place he came across?”

Willow listened to the silence of the dead line until a mechanical voice began to protest and advise her to hang up and try her call again.

Lindsey took in Spike’s story with a sense of awe. “You’re a dead man, Spike.”

“Tell me about it. And while you’re doin’ that, pass another beer over this way.”

Lindsey did what he was told, but grabbed one for himself as well. Simultaneously, they threw back their bottles and took long, hard gulps.

**********

First came the parking lot from Hell. Perhaps, given her history, it was a bit of overkill to call it that, but that was how she felt right at that moment. Nowhere to park, huge Italian women wandering everywhere, and that little bratty kid who kicked her car with his muddy boots. Then came the store itself. Rude shoppers, rude employees, screaming children, and the kicker: slimy lettuce. That’s all Buffy actually wanted in the whole store, and it was the one thing that looked like it actually crawled out from the Hellmouth itself. Ugh.

She hefted the heavy bag of groceries up onto her hip and struggled with the front door. ‘There oughta be a law. If you’re the world’s longest lived Slayer, you get a personal man servant to do all your domestic chores.’ She smiled at this thought. ‘With very large pecs and biceps and very few clothes. Maybe just a loin cloth…or a sock.’ This line of thinking went a long way in relieving her post-shopping stress. That is, until she walked into the living room to see her sister’s very long face with tears streaking down her cheeks.

Buffy hastily ditched the bag in favor of tending to Dawn. “What’s wrong, Dawnie?” She rushed to her sister’s side, gently sitting next to her on the couch.

Typical Dawn answer. Very teenage and angsty. Buffy wondered what she had done wrong this time.

‘Okay. No pushing. She’ll tell me in her own time.’ “Just remember, I’m always here if you want to talk.” ‘That was good! I am the best sister in the world.’ Buffy began to stand, a small smile on her face when her sister’s little voice stopped her.

“What do you do when one person tells you a secret, but it was on accident, and the secret really was great, but it was a terrible thing for the other person to do to you, but then the first person told you that you couldn’t tell the third person, who really should know the secret, but you don’t want to hurt her and you don’t want to betray the friend who started the secret in the first place?”

Buffy plopped back down onto the sofa and stared at her sister blankly. “I’m sorry, Dawn. Was I meant to follow that? ‘Cuz, I gotta tell yah. Not making a lot of sense.”

Dawn broke into tears, lowering her head into her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

Buffy rubbed the teenager’s back with soothing motions while buying time. She had no idea what to say to that.

“Do what you feel is right.” Buffy paused, then continued, trying to lighten the mood. “Or, just ask yourself, ‘What would Spike do?’ It always works for me…as long as I’m looking for bad advice.” It wasn’t a statement meant to slander the deceased. Buffy and Dawn often bantered back and forth about Spike, using his shortcomings to spark conversation about him and ease their grief. Once, they ended up laughing so hard they cried in the middle of the street. All it had taken was a box of kittens for sale in a neighbor’s yard and one little comment: “It must be poker night.”

Dawn looked up at Buffy, paused for a second, then burst into tears all over again.

Lindsey looked at Spike in consternation. This tough guy vampire had fallen in love with the Slayer and befriended her teenage sister. But not only that, he stayed with the teenager for months…as a friend…to a human! And this was all before the soul? Lindsey stored that away in his mind right next to the file labeled “Angel/Angelus”. There would be time to analyze those inconsistencies at a later date. First priority was to concentrate on getting Spike back to normal ‘rough-and-tumble’ self and back in the game.

Buffy felt helpless. She had never seen Dawn this upset. Okay, there was that time when her pewter earrings fell into the toilet and she was unable to retrieve them before Buffy had used the facilities and flushed. That was a full-fledged tantrum, complete with tears and jumping and the throwing of objects. And come to think of it, those were stolen in the first place, so what was she getting so worked up about?

Buffy placed her hands on Dawn’s shoulders and looked at her intently. “It can’t be that bad.”

“I-I-I mean…it can’t be anything that we can’t get through together. We’re a team, you and me. The Summers team.” Dawn’s face softened, but did not lose any of its anguish.

“Come on, Dawn. Spill.” The last word was accompanied by the sweetest smile Buffy had ever bestowed upon her sister.

“Like, literally, pull your entrails out and eat them with a spoon, or figuratively?”

“I see. Well, then that’s that. I’ll see you at dinner. Now, go get cleaned up.” With that, Buffy rose and started toward the kitchen. Dawn watched after her in surprise. Since when could Buffy resist a secret?

An hour later, the sisters met in the kitchen and sat down to a freshly baked meal a-la-Buffy. As euphemisms go, this was Dawn’s favorite. It meant she’d be eating out with her friends later.

Buffy swallowed her bite of slimy salad with some effort. “Thought I’d watch “Beaches” again. Can’t seem to get enough of that song.” Simultaneously, Buffy took a deep breath in preparation for singing “Wind Beneath My Wings” and Dawn covered her ears, mock-yelling.

When Buffy finally stopped, she giggled while picking up her knife. She pointed it at her sister to emphasize her words. “Just because Spike didn’t like it doesn’t mean it’s a bad song.”

“Yeah, well, he *is* evil, after all. That Werewolf and Heart place has taken him over too.”

“I was talking about Spike, not Angel.” There was a warning in Buffy’s voice. “Tell me you’re not telling me that Spike is…that Spike…Dawn?!”

“Oh, silly me. Silly, silly Dawn. Mixing up my souled vampires again. Why do I always do that? Of course, it was *Spike* who hated that song. Not Angel. Why do I always mix those two up? They have very different coloring.”

“You are the last person to mistake one for the other. Now, spill. And I mean it this time!”

For a moment, Buffy thought Dawn would remain silent. But then the words came like a torrent. “Yeah, okay. It’s Spike. Willow said he’s back. But that’s the thing. He’s been back for months and never even told us. And what could be worse than that, right? Lots. He doesn’t want us to know. But who does he let know? Angel. That’s who. As if Angel could ever lo…like him as much as we do. But it still gets worse. He’s been sucked into that Werewolf and Heart place just like Angel. I think Angel did it on purpose. Brought him back so that he could be his sidekick in the Evil business. That’s the only logical explanation. Spike is all mind warped and stuff.”

Buffy took advantage of Dawn’s momentary break in babbling. “So, let me get this straight. Spike is alive?”

Dawn shut her mouth and stared at Buffy like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh-huh.”

Buffy calmly walked to her room and smoothly shut the door. The only sound in the entire house was a gentle “click” as the door closed.

Dawn sat still as a picture, awaiting the inevitable reaction. It didn’t take long. Despite the solid wood of Buffy’s bedroom door, Dawn could clearly make out her sister’s voice. “I need to talk to Angel.”

Lindsey dropped his head into his hands and moaned, as if in pain. He knew that this was the turning point in Spike’s story. No wonder the guy was so upset. He had a pissed off Slayer close on his tail. “Awww. That ain’t good.”

“It gets better.” The drunk vampire threw his legs up over the chair’s arms and reclined.

“Cut the crap, Angel. I know what you did, and I think I know why you did it. But I’m giving you a chance to explain yourself. Call it professional courtesy.”

Angel could actually visualize icicles hanging from Buffy’s words as they exited her downturned mouth. “Who have you been talking to and what is going on?”

“Me?! I didn’t bring back that black-clad sponge. What in the world would I do that for?”

“The way I hear it, he’s working for you. I can’t possibly imagine any scenario where Spike willingly works for you at Evil Incorporated. He can’t stand the sight of you. Plus? Hero!”

“Hey, now. Buffy. You’re obviously mistaken about a few things. First off, I did not bring Spike back. He just showed up here in June. Second…”

“JUNE!? June? You’ve been hiding Spike from me since June?” Buffy looked up to her ceiling, her free arm flailing. “The minute I heard you were involved in that Wolfman and Heart…”

“I don’t care! The minute I found out you had compromised your morals, I should have come down there and set you straight. Now you’ve got Spike involved against his will! I…I…I can’t believe that you’re the evil one in the equation now and Spike is an innocent.”

Angel took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm himself. She had it all wrong. Him, Spike, Wolfram and Hart. She just didn’t understand. “Buffy. Someone wanted Spike back in this world. It wasn’t me, and we don’t know who it was, but they brought him back with that amulet I delivered to you. Also, he isn’t working for me. Hell, he can’t even be in the same room as me without making my life a living hell. Which, been there, done that, have the t-shirt.”

“Just listen. Please.” Angel took her silence as the only answer he would get from her. “He’s out there on the street helping people. He lives in some dive south of here. He doesn’t even trust me, let alone work for me.”

“But…why? Why…” Her voice trailed off as if she couldn’t choose which question she wanted answered first. Spike was back from the dead, somehow managed to hook up with Angel and was now fighting evil on the streets. And the kicker was that the big jerk never bothered to let the woman he loved in on the secret. What the hell was going on?

“You know, he started out for Europe at least a half dozen times. Just never quite made it.”

“Buffy? Buffy? Buffy.” Angel replaced the receiver and sighed. That boy was in deep trouble. He never could stay out of trouble with the Slayers.

By now, Lindsey had become quite engrossed in Spike’s tale of woe and found himself leaning forward, taking in the other man’s every word like liquid gold. “Well? What happened?!”

“Nothin’, mate.” Spike swung his legs back onto the floor, then stood up a bit shakily.

“That’s it? She talked to Angel and…that’s it? You’ve never heard from her yourself?”

“She hung up on the hulking mass of flesh that night and we haven’t heard from her since. It’s been over a week. She’s no doubt seething in her Slayer anger and choosing just the right, most inopportune moment to come out here and kick my ass…again.” He kicked a beer bottle and it shattered on the opposite wall. “Bloody hell! Why do the bitches have to be so damn difficult?”

Lindsey picked up on something and smiled a devious half-smile. “You’re afraid of her.”

“Damn straight I am! She’s a one in a million fighter. You bet your ass she could kill me in a second, should she put her mind to it.”

“No. Not what I meant. You’re afraid she doesn’t love you. That’s why you never went to see her - why you don’t want her to know you’re alive…ish.”

Spike shot him an evil glare. “Well, aren’t you the observant one? Two points for the do-gooder.”

Just at that moment, a voice came from the doorway. Both men turned toward it, shocked.

Spike swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry as a bone. He barely managed to get one little word out. “Buffy?”

There she stood, gorgeous as the day is long. Her golden hair flowed over her shoulders and the light from behind her blanketed her with an illusion of holiness and innocence. That is, until he took in the expression on her face. Pure. Slayer. Strength. And not a little bit of Slayer Fury.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt Dawn? Not to mention the fact that you’re hanging around Angel’s town and irritating him!”

Spike just stood there with his mouth hanging open. Lindsey rose and said, “I think I’ll be going.” The vampire gave him a desperate look, which Lindsey took to mean, ‘Dear God, man, don’t leave me alone with her!’ Lindsey wasn’t about to risk accidentally exposing himself, and quickly retreated.

As he vanished down the hall, Spike mumbled under his breath, “Doyle…you ponce.”

Ignoring Lindsey’s departure, Buffy continued to glare at her former vampire love. “Now. Where were we? Oh, yeah. I was in the middle of finding out that the man I fought with to save the world and watched die a crispy death has actually been living in LA all this time. I don’t suppose a phone call to let us know you were all right would have crossed your mind? Oh, wait. I know. You were too busy, what, drinking beer with your buddy here?”

“No. I know what it was. You forgot you could ‘dial down the center’, 1 800 C-A-L-L-A-T-T. You know, it’s free for you and cheap for them.”

“Or, I have it! Maybe you were unable to pick up the phone because you lost your body in a poker game, and couldn’t get it back until you paid the winner two dozen Australian Calicos.”

“I was in that cave with you, roastin’ like a marshmallow over a campfire. You left. The fire ate me whole. The next thing I remember is Angel and his little gang hovering over me. But, see, I wasn’t whole. I was just a ghost. No body.”

Buffy had the decency to look embarrassed. Here she was blaming him, when it was physically impossible for him to contact her. She walked over to the couch in a daze and plopped down, staring at the floor, uncertain where to go from there.

“I had no way to leave LA. Whatever or whoever brought me back added a little curse to my curse. It tethered me to the bloody Poof. No matter how hard I tried to leave, if I got too far, I’d find myself back at Wolfram and Hart.” He approached her, then knelt at her feet. “Buffy.” When he got no answer, he reached out and took her hands.

The cool, familiar feeling woke her from her trance and she stood suddenly, knocking Spike backward. “You…you are not a ghost. What kind of game is this?”

“No game, Buffy. A while after I came back incorporeal, I got a package in the mail, opened the thing and poof! Corporeal.”

“Yeah.” Spike ran his hands through his hair. “I feel like a soddin’ puppet.” He smiled to himself. “Which actually brings a funny story to mind…”

“A while. And yet, no news of the amazing vampire who rose from the ashes.” Spike realized he said too much and felt a flush of shame. Yes. It was true. He had had every chance to let her and the Scoobies know he was alive again. But in the end, he didn’t. He chose to keep himself a dirty little secret. Her tapping foot did not help to ease his guilt one tiny bit. “And you know what really ticks me off? I finally give you what you want, what you’ve been dreaming about for years, and you just discard it like it was yesterday’s trash.”

He looked up into her eyes to find her staring intently into his. A million thoughts ran through his head. There would be no good way to broach this subject. Best to say it outright.

There. It was out. Of course she would deny that her confession of love was a lie. She would undoubtedly spout some nonsense about loving him in a ‘special way’, then act all high and mighty, as if she had bestowed some priceless gift upon him…one he did not deserve. And all that time, Spike would know in his heart that it was just words. Just pretty, pretty words. And his heart would break just a little bit more.

“Why what, Buffy? I’m tired. I’m worn down. I can’t play this with you anymore. You don’t love me and you never will. There’s only one man who has ever held your heart, and it’s not me. It will never be me. You said it yourself years ago.”

She pointedly ignored his ramblings. “You died. I mean, deader than usual. You were ash. But, by some incredible miracle, you came back.”

“Big deal. It happens all the time. Just look at yourself. You’ve done it twice.” By now, his brain had stopped functioning. The pain of her rejection through the years shut him down and he was only able to respond with mindless contradictions.

Spike stopped retorting. He just slid down to the floor and buried his head between his bent knees.

“Except for me.” Buffy repeated as she knelt in front of him. “I’m sorry, Spike.”

It was difficult to make out his words as they were muffled by his jeans, but Buffy managed. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, Slayer. You can’t choose who you love.”

“Yes. That’s true.” At that, Spike’s heart sank from the pit of his stomach to his toes. So, that was it.

He looked up at her, his eyes damp from the beginning of tears. “Can you just go now, Buffy? I have a new life here. I have to…live my life…”

She raised a shaky hand to his cheek and gently cupped his face. “Oh, Spike. You always were kind of obtuse.”

“Well, you’re kind of aCute too, but mostly obtuse.” He looked at her questioningly as her face softened. “Been studying with Dawn for her SATs. It means…”

“No. Well, yeah. But, it also means, you’re stupid and, well, just plain stupid.”

One tear ran down his cheek and Buffy wiped it off with her thumb. “Why is it that you were all observey guy in Sunnydale, but here, you’re wearing blinders?”

Spike looked down at the floor in a vain effort to hide his disappointment and humiliation. He was till trying to gather himself together to ask her again to go when, unexpectedly, his view of the dirty linoleum became obscured by Buffy’s face. As her lips tenderly touched his, his mind went numb.

Their kiss lasted but moments, but it would be ingrained in Spike’s mind for an eternity. This was the end. He knew it in his soul. “Goodbye, Buffy.”

“It’s okay, Slayer. You don’t have to pretend. Not with me. I know the score.”

“I admitted I love you. You haven’t said the same in months. In fact, I remember the last time you said it was in another lifetime. Literally.”