All My Heart This Night Rejoicing by Enigmaticblue

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Part 2: Peace

The flight from Rome to London wasn't a long one, but Spike was out almost as soon as he sat down. Dawn had to wonder how much sleep he'd been getting in the past few months. She was still wildly curious about how exactly Spike had become human. It involved something called a Shanshu, but his journal hadn't been any more specific than that.

Dawn glanced over at the ex-vampire. In spite of the rather dorky tweed jacket, she had seen some of the flight attendants giving him appreciative glasses. His face was relaxed in sleep, and somehow younger. Dawn personally thought that Buffy's timing was impeccable. She gets rid of the boyfriend just in time for Spike's return—well, in time for Spike's arrival at least.

Dawn read a book for the duration of the flight, looking over at Spike every few minutes to assure herself that he was real and sitting right beside her. The earlier phone call had been made to Giles, and she'd told him that unless he wanted to ruin what relationship he and Buffy had managed to salvage, he could purchase another first class ticket on her flight. Now she had Spike in the seat next to her.

She had her own suspicions regarding Giles knowing about Spike's return, especially since Andrew had known.

It was perhaps a mark of Giles' progress that he hadn't even questioned it, but had simply told her it would be taken care of. On the other hand, it might have had something to do with Dawn's mentioning that Spike was human now. She knew exactly what to say to get the chief Watcher's attention, much as her sister did.

Rome had been an interesting experience, in Dawn's mind. She'd gone to school, ridden on the backs of motorbikes with boys, and done the typical teenage things. It hadn't much mattered that Buffy wasn't paying her a lot of attention, since the Slayer had been ignoring her sister for years now.

Oddly enough, it had been Rome that made Dawn miss Spike. Every time she brought home an art project that Buffy didn't bother to look at, every time she came home in the early hours of the morning and Buffy hadn't noticed she was gone...she thought about that summer with Spike. He had looked after her, wanted to know where she was going, who she was going to be with.

Regret over lost opportunities was the last painful lesson that Sunnydale had taught her.

Dawn knew how lucky she was to have the chance to repair her relationship with Spike. So often, lost opportunities are never regained.

The plane set down with a bump, and still Spike didn't stir. Dawn reached over and shook his arm. "Hey, Spike. We're here."

He woke with a start, the shadows of dreams in his blue eyes. "Niblet? Wha—" Spike shook his head groggily. "Dawn. Sorry. Didn't mean—"

"You were tired," she replied. "And you can call me whatever you want to. It's really okay."

Spike stared at her. It wasn't okay. She had grown up somewhere along the way and he'd missed it all. But he did appreciate the gesture. "Yeah, thanks. Is, uh, someone meetin' us?"

Dawn shook her head. "I don't think so. At least, I told Giles that we'd take a taxi."

"Was he the one paid for the ticket?"

"Yeah." She was quiet. "Giles kinda fell apart after everything happened, you know? I don't think any of us really thought about the fact that he'd lost a lot of friends and even some family when the First took out the Council. He just wanted to keep us safe, and get the job done, and he was so focused on that..."

As she trailed off, Spike nodded. "No hard feelings," he said softly. "Not really. Rupert just wanted to protect Buffy, an' he didn't think I was worthy of her. He'd be right on that count, at least."

"Yeah, but if he'd killed you, the whole world would have gone up in flames," Dawn said wryly. "And you know how much Giles loves to admit he was wrong."

Spike grinned. "I can imagine." His face fell. "Does Buffy—"

"Giles said he'd wait till you got into town."

"Great," Spike grumbled. "Bit?"

That one word was a question, and Spike suddenly sounded terribly vulnerable. "Yeah?"

"Is she—I mean, did Buffy—would she really want to see me again?"

"She missed you, Spike," Dawn replied quietly. "You do the math."

~~~~~

Giles sent a car for them, which surprised Spike, even though the man had bought his plane ticket. Through the windows of the car, Spike could see the lights and evergreens that marked the nearing holiday. It would be Christmas soon, and he'd nearly forgotten.

The holidays meant something to him now; Thanksgiving had been particularly painful. Of course, he was British, and so it shouldn't have meant anything at all, but he'd seen the advertisements that talked about family. He'd seen men and women shopping, filling carts to the brim with enough food to feed a crowd, while he debated on shoplifting enough to fill his belly for the night.

It had brought back memories of that Thanksgiving with the Scoobies, watching them eat while he'd been starving. Memories of haunting the halls of Wolfram & Hart, solid and not. Although he'd been on the outside of both groups, he'd fought his way into both. Both were gone now, or largely disbanded.

Spike wasn't sure he could bear to stay for Christmas, not if he was going to feel as though he was the outsider again. If it was going to be like that, he'd rather go hide in a bottle until after the New Year, lose himself in his memories.

He wasn't in the mood to be making nice or pretending to be happy.

"Where's this place we're goin' to, then?" Spike asked idly.

Dawn was still gazing out the window. Even after over a year abroad, she'd never grown tired of the sights and sounds that were so different than America. "One of the Council's properties," she replied. "It's not very big, but Giles is having another place built near Bath, I think. It's supposed to be pretty cool. Buffy was talking about maybe settling down there for a while."

Spike nodded absently. Someone who didn't know him as well as Dawn did might have missed the ticking muscle in his jaw, or the line of tension across his shoulders. He'd discarded the tweed and slipped back into the duster as soon as they'd landed, and he looked like Spike again. Like the vampire she'd known. It was hard to tell how much he'd changed.

Then the car was pulling up in front of a row of rather nice homes, and the driver was opening the door for the both of them, and Spike suddenly felt the need to run. It was all moving too fast. He'd had plans for seeing Buffy in Rome, and giving her the news. Then she would look at him with those great big eyes of hers and tell him—regretfully, of course—that she hadn't meant those last words she'd spoken to him. And then he would take himself off and get on with the business of living his life.

Spike would move on. Other people did it all the time, so a guy who'd survived a few apocalypses should be able to do the same.

As though sensing his desire to bolt, Dawn grabbed his arm. "Come on. Everybody will be waiting."

It was easier to let Dawn drag him along. Easier to tell himself that he'd set the ball rolling, and now he was just going to follow it to its end. Spike watched as Dawn rang the bell, hanging onto him with her other hand the whole time. He had to admit he was a bit disappointed when it was Giles that opened the door.

"Dawn." The Watcher's greeting for the girl was warm, and although he looked more worn to Spike's sharp eye, there was a strength there that had replaced the brittleness of that last year.

Giles looked at Spike from the other side of the doorway. "Won't you both come in?"

Dawn entered, already beginning her excited chatter. In one of those lightning-fast transitions that characterize teens, she'd gone from mature young woman to excited girl in the space of a few seconds. Spike was silent as Giles shut the door and then turned to him. "You look as though you could use a drink."

Some of the tension left his shoulders and Spike nodded his thanks. "Be nice. Buffy here?"

"She went out with a few of the Slayers along with Willow," Giles said briefly. "She said she'd see Dawn when she got back tonight or perhaps tomorrow morning."

"She know about me?" Spike asked, following Giles into the library. Dawn, sensing the tension, had grabbed her bag and announced her desire to get cleaned up.

Giles shook his head. "Not as of yet. She left earlier today, before Dawn called."

"Ah." Spike tossed back the drink Giles handed him in one smooth motion.

"We heard about Wolfram & Hart's downfall," Giles said quietly. "Buffy knows as well, though it wasn't something we discussed."

Spike nodded. "What did you hear?"

"That the Senior Partners had been mysteriously blocked from this dimension. The word from the coven was that the Powers were rather upset by the demon army that had appeared in Los Angeles and had taken steps to prevent something like that from happening in the future." Giles' tone was flat, but Spike could hear the curiosity hidden between the lines.

"Was Angel's doin'." Spike let Giles refill his glass, and he tossed that one back as well. He still had to drink quite a bit in order to feel any effect, though he didn't know whether it was because of long practice or a strong constitution. "He came up with the plan, an' like good soldiers we carried it out."

Giles' expression was pained. "Then Angel hadn't gone evil."

"No." Spike smiled reflectively. "Though we all thought so towards the end. He had to make it look good. 'Course, actin' evil wasn't that hard for him."

The Watcher heard the verb tense and nodded. "We had wondered. Who survived?"

"Me."

There was a long pause. "I see. Was that when—"

"Yeah." Spike sat down heavily, the memories weighing on him. "Not a proper human, though. More like a vampire without the vulnerabilities."

"Then you still drink blood."

"No."

Giles had never known Spike to be short on words before. If anything, the vampire had been an annoying windbag, not shutting up for anything. "Spike—"

"Save it," the other man said shortly. "You were doin' the best you could. We all were. 's all we can do most of the time, just muddle through as best we can."

"You're right." Giles started to laugh. "Good Lord, you're right. I never thought I'd say those words to you of all people."

Spike shrugged. "Things change."

"I take it you came to tell Buffy about Angel and the others," Giles said. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like a full account myself. As I said, we have reports, but nothing very solid." Giles laughed again, though this time the sound was full of more humor than bitterness. "You do realize that you've managed to turn the world on its head twice in as many years."

Spike shook his head sadly. "I didn't do so much."

The other man didn't argue, deciding that it wasn't really the time for that. "I'm afraid all the guest rooms are full," he said with something like real regret in his voice. "You're welcome to the couch, however."

"Couch is fine," Spike replied.

The silence lay heavy between them. Spike knew they'd most likely never be friends—too much history lay between them for that. He wondered if Giles realized how much respect he had for him, that he might have liked to be friends at one point.

Spike suddenly wondered what might have happened if he had chosen differently when the Watcher had extended the hand of friendship not long after he'd been chipped. If he had known then what he knew now—well, hindsight was always 20/20.

"For whatever it's worth," Giles said softly, "I am glad you lived to tell the tale, Spike. It seems as though you might have something to offer the world."

Spike had no idea what to say to that.

~~~~~

Buffy let herself into Giles' house with the key he'd given her. Willow had decided to go back with one of the witches that had come along, and the Slayer was feeling slightly jealous. Oh, she'd done the right thing by losing the latest boyfriend, but she was already missing the sex.

Not that Willow was going to be getting any tonight, but Buffy had seen the looks she and the (male) witch had shared. It was apparent that Willow was giving serious thought to redefining her sexuality from gay to bi.

There was a light still burning in the study, and the Slayer decided to see if Giles was still awake, and if he was, to make sure that Dawn had gotten in alright.

"Giles? Have you—" She broke off with a gasp. What she was seeing made no sense. It wasn't like she hadn't dreamed of something like this, but she wouldn't have imagined Spike sitting in Giles' study in London, reading a book.

"Buffy." Spike sounded just as startled as she probably looked, although he knew she was alive. He didn't have any reason to be startled.

"What—How did you get here?"

Spike had to smile at the fact that Buffy's question was the exact same one as her sister's. He gave her the same answer too. "Flew."

She shook her head, obviously not amused. "I mean, how are you alive? I watched you—"

"Didn't quite take," Spike said, still striving for a little humor. "The amulet was fishy after all, seems like."

"How long have you been back?"

She was still standing on the opposite side of the room, staring at him, although he'd risen to his feet at her entrance. Spike was fairly sure he didn't want to tell her how long he'd been not-dusty, as it might involve an ass-kicking for him, but he didn't want to lie either. "A while. Was transparent for a bit, so I couldn't call."

"How long have you been solid then?"

"A year."

It hurt more than anything else, as it told Buffy that Spike really hadn't believed her in those last moments before his immolation. Up till this moment she could make believe that he had, that Spike just said what he did to make her run. Now, she knew.

Buffy had said it too late.

Even as the date of the last battle had careened toward them, the Slayer had felt the time slipping away. She had understood, however dimly, that the timing of her statement had to be right. That telling Spike she loved him at the last minute wouldn't work because he wouldn't believe her. Spike would think, and perhaps rightly so, that a last-minute declaration would have nothing to do with her feelings and everything to do with the budding friendship that had sprung up between them.

What Spike didn't know was that friendship was threatening to give way to something completely different in Buffy's heart, with a little time.

And then they'd had no time at all.

In those last fleeting moments in the Hellmouth, watching Spike's soul blaze out of him in a great and glorious stream of light, Buffy's feelings for him had blossomed. She'd realized that she loved him, and then he had died.

So Buffy knew that it was her own fault that Spike was watching her warily, expecting anger over his long silence. Her own fault, because she'd never expected him to dust back then.

"Did anyone else know you were back?" she asked.

"Angel and his lot," Spike replied, wondering if he should feel relief that she wasn't angry. "An' Andrew."

Anger flared. "Andrew knew?"

"Uh, yeah." Spike hesitated, then shrugged. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Saw him when he came for that crazy Slayer, and later when Angel an' me were in Rome."

"You were in Rome?" Buffy seemed only to be able to parrot him, and she shook her head, trying to clear it. "You were in Rome and you didn't say anything."

"Had a job to do, an' you were out. With the Immortal."

"Oh." Buffy frowned, remembering. Spike had a point. She'd usually been out all night with the Immortal, so it would have been difficult to catch her. Still, Andrew had known. "You could have stayed, or left a note or something," she pointed out relentlessly. Now that anger had reared its ugly head, Buffy didn't want to let it go.

"We didn't have much time. Besides, the boy said you'd moved on," Spike replied. "Said we should do the same."

Buffy wasn't certain, but she thought she felt relief at what Spike wasn't saying: that he had moved on. "I'm going to kill Andrew," she stated flatly. "He had no right to tell you anything at all. It's not like I ever confided in him."

"Then what the bloody hell was the Immortal?" Spike demanded, and now there was anger in his tone.

"Good sex," Buffy replied bluntly. "And it was fun for a while."

"A while?" Spike queried, his scarred eyebrow rising.

Buffy shrugged. "He cheated on me. I don't care how casual a relationship is, guys don't cheat on me."

Spike wanted to tell her that any man would be a fool for cheating on her. He wanted, yet again, to swear his allegiance. It frightened him—this inability to move on. Even Angel, for all his love for the Slayer, had managed to fall in love with someone else. Spike had understood when they made the trip to Rome that Angel was in love with the idea of Buffy, and not so much with the real person.

He, on the other hand, loved the girl and the Slayer. It seemed to be his curse, as much as his continued existence was.

"So this other one that the Bit said you just got rid of?" he asked, wanting to postpone telling his story.

Buffy shrugged. "He was a guy. We had fun." She didn't say that she'd had several boyfriends to try and relieve the sting of losing Spike. It hadn't worked, but it was the only thing she'd known to try.

It had always been that way; Buffy lost one boyfriend and quickly gained another. It had only been recently that she'd truly realized that maybe that wasn't the best way to do things, and now Spike was here. Except, he wasn't new, but rather something old.

Spike nodded, not saying anything, and Buffy suddenly put two and two together. Angel had known, and Spike was here, looking very much like the messenger who believes he'll be shot for the news he bears. "Why did you come now, Spike?" she asked, and her tone was gentle.

He couldn't meet her eyes. This was the whole reason he'd come, and Spike found that the words were choking him. "You know about Wolfram & Hart?"

"Yeah. Angel—" Buffy knew, but she could say it.

"Dusted," Spike said. "They're all gone now." The details escaped him, defied words. Everything he'd come to say began and ended with one quiet sentence.

There was pain in his eyes, and Buffy found herself going to him, wrapping her arms around him, both to give comfort and to assure herself that he was real. After a moment, Spike returned her embrace. They stood like that, in silence, and time seemed to slip backwards until they were alone in an empty house, with Spike declaring his love with words that made her heart ache.

He'd been strong for her that night; she hadn't had the chance to return the favor until now. "Where are you sleeping?"

"Here, on the couch." Spike's words were muffled by her hair. "Full house, an' Rupert wasn't expectin' me."

"You're not sleeping on the couch," Buffy said, releasing him only to grab his hand and tug him towards the stairs.

Resisting her pull, Spike stayed where he was. "Buffy, I don't think—"

"It's a big bed, Spike," Buffy said, sensing his reasons for hesitating. "I think—I think maybe tonight you need me."

A flash of wonder crossed his face that lifted the sadness. "I—yeah, actually. Could do with a real bed tonight."

He followed her up the stairs to the second floor bedroom Giles had called hers. "I just need to change."

Spike stopped outside the door. "Oh, right. I'll just, uh, wait."

Buffy smiled. "It's nothing you haven't seen before. You can wait inside."

The look on Spike's face was priceless. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise." She waited until he followed her inside, and then Buffy shut the door behind him. "Do you want to get your bag?"

Spike shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. "Nothin' in there I need. Never was big on the pajamas, luv."

He had called her "luv" before, of course. But after a year and a half of not hearing it, the single word sent shivers right down her spine. Where once it would have made her angry, now it only served to remind her how much she'd missed him.

No matter how angry she was supposed to be at Spike right now for not telling her about his being alive sooner.

"I know." Two little words to acknowledge everything that had been between them. "I could probably find something..."

"I'll be fine," Spike said with a smile that was almost sheepish.

She smiled in return. "I want you to be comfortable."

Spike didn't tell her that there was little chance of that when her very nearness made his skin tingle. "I came to tell you—"

"It's okay, Spike." Buffy paused, let herself feel the grief that threatened. "I think I knew, deep down. When Giles told us about Wolfram & Hart, and then I didn't hear from Angel, I knew." She sighed. "If I had known you were involved, I would have made more of an effort to find out what happened." Buffy kept her back to him as she changed. "How are you?"

"Breathing, actually."

That caused her to turn around sharply, half-dressed as she was. "Excuse me?"

"Not a vampire anymore, Buffy," Spike said, surprised she hadn't picked up on it already, but it wasn't really something one expected to happen after all. "Not a human either, but I'm breathing."

Buffy tugged her shirt over her head and came to stand closer, putting a wary hand on his chest, feeling the thump of his heart under her hand. "Human?"

"Got all the abilities of a vampire and none of the vulnerabilities." Spike, for all his silence earlier, felt the sudden need to tell Buffy everything. "There was this prophecy 'bout a souled vampire. Shanshu prophecy. Said this vampire would 'live till he died' after he saved the bloody world." Spike shook his head. "I needled Angel, told him it could be me as well as him, but it was always supposed to be his thing. He was the one who wanted this."

"And what?" Buffy asked. "You got it?"

"By default, I think." Spike laughed, but there was no humor in the tone. "I hated him, Buffy. He always got everything I wanted, and now—"

"You got what he wanted," Buffy said, finishing for him. She took his hand and tugged him on the bed beside her.

"Somethin' like that," Spike agreed. "Was Angel's idea to take out the top blokes. We each had an assignment. Wesley was killed finishin' his, Charlie-boy close to. Don't know what happened to Lorne. Illyria showed up in time for the fight." Now that he started talking, it didn't seem as though he could stop. "There was this horde—whole bloody army they sent after us, complete with dragon."

"A dragon?" Buffy could help but asking.

He smiled, shook his head. "Great, soddin' dragon. Angel had to be the one to kill it, of course. Next thing I knew, he had killed it, but it took him out with its bloody dyin' breath. It was chaos in that alley, an' I dunno. Must have got brained with somethin'. Next thing I know, I'm wakin' up, starin' into Charlie's eyes, Illyria was gone, an' I'm breathin'. An' I haven't been able to stop since."

The Slayer kept her arm around his shoulders, waiting for what he would say next. "I miss him. Isn't that a kicker? I bloody well hated his guts, an' I miss him."

"He was family," Buffy said simply. She would deal with her own quiet grief later. Now, however, she urged him to take off his coat and boots, pushed him to lie down under the covers. Held him as she'd asked him to hold her so long ago, her heart quiet with the knowledge that he was in her arms again.

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