Seas Between Us (Broad Have Roared) by Enigmaticblue

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 ::

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapter 1: Crossing Oceans

"We two have run about the hills/And pulled the daisies fine:/But we have wandered many a weary foot/Since auld lang syne./We two have waded in the stream/from dawn to dinner time:/But seas between us broad have roared/Since auld lang syne./And there's a hand my trusty friend!/And give me a hand o' thine!/And we will take a large draught/For auld lang syne." ~Old Scottish ballad

"How are you feeling?"

Spike hadn't been expecting any other visitors. Angel had dropped by right after the Wolfram & Hart docs sewed/magicked his hands back on. Fred had popped her head in, and Wesley had already come by once. Seeing Wes for a second time surprised him.

Although, his melancholy mood might have had more to do with that than anything about the ex-Watcher. Seeing Andrew again had put Spike's within arm's length of Buffy in a sense, and he was missing her again. And feeling less than worthy of her.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling. Spike usually tried to bury those insecurities as deeply as possible.

To have Wesley come by for a second time felt good. It felt as though the other man actually cared, rather than performing the visit out of duty.

"Better," Spike admitted, looking down at his hands. They were mostly working as he wanted them to, but he still had a ways to go yet. He was damn lucky they'd been able to sew them back on at all. "Feel like a bit of an idiot still."

"You couldn't know what she would do, Spike," Wesley pointed out. "I don't think any of us were aware of what she might be capable of."

"Doesn't make it much better," Spike replied. "I was s'posed to be helpin' her. Instead, Angel had to come to my rescue."

Wesley's lips twisted into a smile at the distaste in Spike's voice and face. Spike and Angel still weren't getting along. He had to admit that he found their spats highly amusing at this point. "When are they discharging you?"

The vampire shrugged. "Dunno. 's not like I really have any place to go. Might as well stay here just for the bed."

Wesley frowned. It wasn't right that Spike was still without a place to live. The rest of them all had a home, either in the Wolfram & Hart building or elsewhere. "Why couldn't you stay at the hotel?"

Spike looked back at him sharply. He'd managed to get back into his clothing, which was an improvement over the hospital gown they'd insisted he wear. It allowed him to stand at the window, where he didn't feel so closed in. "What hotel?"

Wesley knew that Angel had kept the Hyperion. Angel had, in fact, made certain that it was paid off and free from meddling. He had no idea why the new CEO of Wolfram & Hart had felt it necessary to keep a building they never used, but it was there and it was empty.

Briefly, Wesley wondered why Angel wouldn't have informed Spike about it. "The hotel, which was our headquarters, before we came here," he explained. "It's not being used, and there's plenty of room."

Spike hesitated and then shook his head. "'s Angel's place. It'd piss him off if I was stayin' there."

"So?"

That one word stiffened Spike's spine as he realized exactly what he'd just said. Using the hotel would royally piss his grandsire off. It would also give him a base of operations. Spike was tired of sitting around on his duff, with little purpose. Wesley had sent him on a few errands—Spike thought it was probably out of pity—but it wasn't enough.

He needed to be doing something. If he had his own place, maybe he could.

"Where is it?"

"I can take you," Wesley offered. "It might be best if you not drive yourself for a while." He hesitated. "If you'd like to stay at my place until you're fully recovered, you'd be more than welcome, Spike. It's the least I can do."

"It's more than anyone else has done," Spike replied dryly.

Wesley smiled. "Yes, well, I still need to repay you for introducing me to Monty Python. A few nights on my couch will hardly cover it."

Spike grinned and shook his head. "We're still not caught up."

"No, we're not," Wesley replied. "Good thing I was planning on making it an early night. Are you ready?"

"What, now?" Spike asked, surprised. Then he shrugged. "Why the bloody hell not? The smell of this place was beginnin' to drive me crazy anyway."

~~~~~

Buffy leaned back into her seat on the airplane, forcing herself to relax. She still couldn't quite believe she was doing this. Jumping in a plane, flying back to L.A. , with no plans other than to see Spike.

The Slayer was grateful for Andrew's inability to keep his mouth shut for once. She hadn't even minded his announcement that Giles had suggested he stay in Rome for a while. Any other time and Buffy would have been on the phone to her former Watcher posthaste, demanding that he re-assign Andrew. Possibly to Madagascar . That seemed like it might be far enough away.

It didn't matter, because she was on her way to L.A. , and she wouldn't be seeing the pest. Buffy would be assuring herself that Spike was in one piece with all parts accounted for.

If he wasn't, she was going to kick some ass, big-time.

Buffy still wasn't sure how it had all happened—events had moved so quickly. Andrew had called, crowing over his success at retrieving Dana, and Buffy had only been half-listening. In fact, she'd tuned him out completely until what he was saying finally registered. Something about "Spike at his side, still striving for redemption, separated from the woman he loved," blah, blah, blah.

It had been the use of the present tense in that part of the story that had finally caught her attention. Andrew had obviously been hit on the head really hard, but when Buffy had stopped the boy and reminded him that Spike was dead, he'd blurted out the first thing that came into his mind.

"No, he's not! I'm not crazy, and it wasn't the First! Dana chopped off his hands."

That little tidbit was too wild for even Andrew to have made up, and Buffy had started pumping him for information. Fifteen minutes later she had hung up the phone, started packing a bag, and called Giles to let him know where she would be.

Giles had suggested that perhaps she wait until they could discover a little more about Spike and what he was up to, but Buffy was beyond caring at this point. If he was alive, she wanted to see him. End of story. Don't argue.

When Giles had tried arguing a little more, Buffy pointed out very calmly that as he had tried to kill Spike without her knowledge, she wasn't inclined to trust him at all. Not where it concerned the vampire anyway.

So Giles had wished her a safe trip, and hung up.

Buffy still winced when she thought about what a shambles their relationship had become. She wasn't quite sure when everything had changed, or even why. One day Giles was there, solid as bedrock. The next day he'd turned into quicksand, ready to destroy the one person who was keeping her sane.

These days, Buffy was less inclined to let anyone do that to her.

She had stayed at the apartment just long enough to let Dawn know what was going on and where she was going. Her sister had scribbled off a note and asked Buffy to give it to Spike. Then Dawn had hugged her and said, "You do what makes you happy, Buffy."

It had been enough.

Still, Buffy now found herself on a transatlantic flight with no idea of what she'd find when she arrived. There was every possibility that Spike had managed to move on, or that he wasn't interested in her anymore. They had never really spoken about their relationship.

She hadn't given him the chance.

"Maybe when," she'd said, holding hope just out of his reach. Buffy really had believed that either they would both die or they would both live. The possibility of Spike dying had never crossed her mind. Buffy had done the same to Angel, knowing at the time that it was horribly unfair.

It wasn't Angel. It would never be Angel again. Spike, on the other hand, had a fighting chance.

If she'd had it to do all over again, Buffy would have taken Spike right there on the kitchen floor and damn the consequences. She would have told him then that she loved him, that she wanted to be with him, that they were both going to make it out.

Buffy would have made Spike promise to survive.

But, no. She'd chickened out, and as a result, Buffy had watched him dust—or start to.

In the last few months, Buffy had managed to convince herself that Spike had known she loved him. He had believed her, but he'd said what he had to get her out of that cave.

Knowing that he was back and hadn't told her—that he'd been back for a while—made Buffy think that she'd been lying to herself again. Spike hadn't believed her, and thus he hadn't tried to find her.

Which brought her full circle, thanking her lucky stars that Andrew never had been able to withhold information.

Maybe there was a God.

Now she was on a plane, not knowing where Spike was or how he was doing, with only a small overnight bag and no return ticket. Buffy didn't know where she was staying, or who with, or even what she hoped to accomplish.

If Spike didn't want to come to Rome with her, would she stay in L.A. ? If he did come with her, would he fit into their lives?

Should she even be doing this?

They were questions to which she had no answers.

~~~~~

"Nice place," Spike commented as he entered Wesley's apartment. It seemed to suit the ex-Watcher with its piles of books and slightly gloomy décor.

Wesley shrugged. "I don't use it much these days," he confessed. "I haven't ever really except for—" He stopped, unable to remember when it was he'd spent nearly all his time at his apartment, but just knowing that he had. He shook off the feeling in the next moment.

Spike wandered over to the TV, raising an eyebrow at the electronic equipment. "A Playstation, huh? Didn't know you were into that."

"I'm not," the other man replied quickly. At Spike's smirk, Wesley realized it was hopeless. "Gunn and I used to play," he finally admitted. "Sometimes Angel and Fred. Before—" He stopped again, wondering before what because he couldn't remember. It must have been before his relationship with Gunn had faltered as a result of their rivalry over Fred.

Spike started flipping through Wesley's games, noting that he had some good ones. "Too bad my digits aren't workin' like they should," he said, pulling out Mortal Kombat with a grin. "I'd kick your arse."

"That's what you would like to believe," Wesley returned, joining in the familiar banter. He'd known how to do this once upon a time. He had been able to joke with the best of them, holding his own. His mood had been so dreary for so long it was a relief. "I'll have you know that I'm an expert at mortal combat."

It was a deliberate play on words, and Spike's lips quirked upwards at the meaning. "Is that right? I think I'll have to see it to believe it."

"As soon as you have full use of your hands," Wesley replied. "I wouldn't want it to be said that I took advantage of an invalid."

"Not invalid," Spike returned. "'s merely work-related injuries. I'll be right as rain in another day or two."

A silence fell. "You were lucky."

"I know." Spike looked down at his hands. He couldn't seem to stop doing that, as though he needed to continually double-check to ensure they were there and attached. "You heard anything about that Slayer, then?"

Wesley shook his head. "No, and I doubt we will. Andrew seemed certain that our involvement with Wolfram & Hart disqualified us from being on the side of good."

"Doesn't it, though?" Spike asked. "No offense, mate, but that place isn't good for you. It'll suck your soul faster than a Fyarl shoots snot."

It was an interesting analogy. Wesley paused a moment over that image before he replied. "We have more resources. I'm sure that once we get settled—"

"You've been there how long?" Spike asked. "You're as settled as your gonna get. This really what you want to be doin' for the rest of your life?"

It wasn't. Spike had once again managed to see clear to the heart of the issue. Wesley was already tired of the routine, tired of the paperwork. At first, he had been able to maintain the belief that they could make a difference from the inside. Perhaps they would cause the beast to implode, or even better, turn its evil for good.

Wolfram & Hart was too big, though. A few people were just more grist for the mill, no matter how highly placed they might be. He wanted out, in a way, and Wesley had begun to thank his lucky stars that he'd never signed a contract.

He wondered if any of the others had.

They had all followed Angel into the belly of the beast, lured by things that were sure to appeal to their various weaknesses—or strengths. Not for the first time did Wesley wonder what exactly it had been that Angel received in exchange for taking the position.

"No, it's not." Spike was one of the few people he could be honest with, Wesley thought. The vampire wouldn't accuse him of selling out, or demand that he promise to stay. Spike wouldn't try to place a load of guilt on his shoulders for his thoughts. "I honestly don't know what I want these days, Spike. It's not this, but I'm not sure what else it would be."

"Fred?"

Wesley shot him a dirty look. "For once, Fred doesn't enter into this. I would like to see her beyond the reach of Wolfram & Hart, but that is a decision that she will have to make on her own. Unlike some, I respect her right to make those choices."

"Unlike who?" Spike asked, sensing a good load of gossip.

Wesley hesitated. "Last year, Fred discovered that her professor was the one responsible for sending her to Pylea." He waited until Spike's nod told him that the vampire had heard at least some of the story. "She wanted revenge. Angel and Gunn were going to prevent her from going after him herself. I told her what she was getting into and the likely results, and then I let her go."

"Big of you," Spike commented blandly. "Are you sure that wasn't to show up the other two?"

Wesley's smile was sardonic. "A little. I have always respected Fred's ability to choose for herself, however. It was one of the reasons I didn't fight it when she chose Gunn, and why I'm not pursuing her now."

Spike wasn't so certain that Fred wouldn't be amenable to Wesley's advances at this point, but he had decided to keep his mouth shut. They were both his friends, and until he had a better idea of Fred's feelings for the Englishman, it would be better to keep his nose out of it.

Of course, if he did find out that she had a yen for the man, Spike was more than willing to stir things up.

"Right then. It's your decision, mate."

"Bloody right it is," Wesley replied. Tired of the discussion and the direction it was going, he changed the subject. "Did you still want to watch a movie? I have a few to choose from."

Spike raised an eyebrow as he looked through Wesley's collection, unimpressed. "This is right pathetic, you know that?" He pulled out Notting Hill . "You own this?"

"Cordy liked that one," Wesley said quietly. "She always wanted to rent it, and after a while I bought a copy just so she could watch it when she was here."

Spike's face softened, the derision changing to understanding. "You want to watch it, then? For old times sake, like."

Wesley nodded quietly, appreciating Spike's sensitivity and his willingness to indulge a friend his time of remembrance. "For old time's sake," he agreed.

Spike nodded, and then smirked. "But we're watchin' something manly right after, you hear? I won't be polluting my brain with this shite if I can't purge it after."

Wesley smiled. "I also have the Lethal Weapon movies," he said. "Will that be manly enough for you?"

"Might do," Spike agreed. "That might just do."

Chapter 2: Little Did I Know

"Little did I know/that I almost let you go/Until I caught a glimpse of life/without you./ Little did I know/how deep these roots had grown/Until I felt the earth quake here/without you./And this ache is gonna break me love/until you come back home./Right or wrong/there is no home without you..." ~Over the Rhine, "Little Did I Know"

Buffy had decided to postpone the confrontation. It had been late by the time her flight had landed, and the last thing she wanted was to get into a fight.

Not that she planned on fighting with Spike, but there was probably no way to avoid seeing Angel.

Giles had warned her about Wolfram & Hart. They were apparently irredeemably evil, and for Angel to be working there indicated that he'd gone over to the dark side. Buffy honestly didn't have an opinion. Maybe Angel had gone over to the dark side. She wasn't sure she cared, as long as she wasn't the one who had to stop him.

It was harder to care about that sort of thing these days. Deep down, Buffy knew that the battle with the First should have been her last. She should have died. Involvement in the new Council or with the new Slayers, which the others seemed to have embraced with renewed vigor, left Buffy cold.

Not that she was completely apathetic. She and Dawn were not only getting along these days, but they were bonding. She was keeping in touch with the others through various means both magical and technological. Buffy had even been known to troll the streets of Rome at night, hunting for vampires.

She just didn't much care for the big end of the world stuff anymore. The Slayer felt she'd earned a break from apocalypses.

So here she stood in front of a huge office building after a less-than-restful night at a hotel, her stomach twisting into knots. Buffy very nearly turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Maybe Rodeo Drive was a better idea.

Buffy set her jaw. She'd come to L.A. to see Spike. She had faced down the First Evil and lived to tell the tale. She could face a couple of ex-boyfriends and come out on top. All she had to do was march in there, find Angel, and make him tell her where Spike was.

Piece of cake.

Right?

~~~~~

Wesley was wishing that he'd stayed home. He had left Spike sleeping on his couch, and he couldn't help but envy the vampire who had no reason to be at Wolfram & Hart unless it was to annoy Angel.

Angel, who was being his typical obtuse self.

Wesley sighed. "I told you, Angel. This is important."

"I have other things to worry about, Wes," Angel growled impatiently. "Do what you have to do to take care of it."

Wesley sighed, rubbing his eyes. It was the same old song. Angel was too busy to listen, too busy to care, even when half the employees were up in arms over a slight that had been made to some rather important demons. Apparently, one of the human employees had told a "your mama" joke to a Tek'lat demon, whose mothers were revered as gods.

The ensuing fight hadn't been pretty.

Lorne had been off with a client, and Gunn had been negotiating contracts, so Wesley had very little help settling things down. (Wesley was avoiding Fred like the plague, so he didn't know if she would have assisted him or not.) He found that he was being asked to settle things like this more often, and he detested it.

Wesley would have much preferred to stick to his books.

He was about to broach the subject of the Hyperion with Angel—without bringing Spike's name into things—when there was a commotion outside the door. Wesley straightened, his eyes brightening with interest. Perhaps if something smacked Angel in the face the vampire would sit up and pay attention.

"The boss is in a meeting! You can't go in there!" The last word ended on a squeak, and Wesley wondered who had managed to get past Harmony. She did try very hard.

He didn't have to wonder for long. The door was flung open and a woman Wesley recognized immediately stalked through. "Where is he, Angel?" she demanded without preamble.

Wesley leaned back in his chair, watching Buffy with interest. She had stopped in L.A. briefly after the battle with the First, although the group hadn't stayed long and he hadn't spoken to her personally. He'd noticed only that she appeared tired and worn, and with a Watcher's eye he could see that not much had changed now.

Wesley wondered what that meant for Spike's theory that Buffy hadn't really cared about him.

"Where's who?" Angel asked, playing dumb. There really was only one person Buffy could be asking him about.

"Spike, Angel. Where is he?"

"Now, Buffy—"

"Don't do that!" she spat out. Buffy had managed to work herself into a frenzy on the elevator ride up, knowing that she'd need the energy to deal with either or both of her exes. In the end, she'd come to only one conclusion. It was all Angel's fault. She had told him of the final battle, he'd watched her cry over Spike, and he'd still said nothing about Spike's return.

Angel should have at least had the decency to call her, especially since he was the one who knew where she was.

"Don't do what?" he asked, looking hurt.

Buffy nearly snarled. "Don't patronize me," she replied. "I know Spike is here somewhere. Andrew told me. So don't go giving me that innocent act, because I know you know where he is."

"Actually, I don't," Angel said, trying to keep his voice calm. He was feeling rather attacked, and for no reason. It wasn't his fault the bleached pest had decided not to contact the Slayer. Or, a Slayer now, but they would both always think of Buffy as the Slayer.

"I do," Wesley said quietly, knowing that Buffy probably hadn't even noticed his presence.

Buffy turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. She had caught glimpses of Wesley that summer when they'd passed through L.A. , but hadn't gotten a good look. Buffy remembered now that Faith had made a comment about the changes their ex-Watcher had made, and she had to agree.

The man had turned out to be a hottie. That was new.

"Wait, you know where Spike is?" Angel asked. "You didn't say anything."

"You didn't ask," Wesley replied easily. Looking back at Buffy, he said, "Spike's staying with me until he fully recovers. I could give you a ride over there if you'd like."

Angel frowned. "Wait a minute. That's all you're going to say, Buffy? You're not even going to give me a hello?"

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't come here to say hello, Angel. I came here to see Spike. And if you'd done me the courtesy of letting me know he was back from the dead, I might think about being more polite. As it is, you're just lucky I'm not kicking your ass right now. Let's go, Wes."

She marched out, obviously expecting Wesley to follow her. He stood slowly, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. Well, that had been refreshing.

"What about this mess with the Tek'lats?" Angel demanded. "Aren't you going to handle it?"

"I'm in charge of archives and research, Angel, not human resources." Wesley smiled. "I think you'll do just fine."

He followed Buffy out, putting a gentlemanly hand at her back to show her to the elevators. "How was your flight?" he asked politely.

"Long," was her reply. "You're looking good, Wes. I like the new look."

"Thank you." He punched the button for the parking garage. "You're not looking too bad yourself."

Neither of them saw a concerned Fred staring after them, or the jealousy in her eyes.

~~~~~

Buffy decided that she wasn't surprised when she saw Wesley's SUV. It wasn't just Faith's comments—and Willow 's now that she thought about it—it was his attitude. Wesley just radiated confidence.

How the hell had that happened?

"Is he okay?" Buffy asked as soon as they got into the car.

"Spike?"

"Yeah." She hesitated. "Andrew said he'd been hurt."

"We have some very skilled people at Wolfram & Hart," Wesley commented. "They were able to sew his hands back on. Spike should be good as new in another couple of days."

Buffy was quiet. "How is he otherwise? I mean, he hasn't called."

"You'll have to talk to him about that," Wesley replied quietly. "This hasn't been easy for him."

Buffy wanted to reply that it hadn't been easy for her either—but that wasn't fair. She well remembered the months of disorientation coming back from the dead had caused—and not just the resurrection. It had been hard to come back the first time, and she'd only been gone for a couple of minutes.

She had no idea what Spike had gone through in the last few months, but she knew what had come before, and she knew what had happened in that cavern.

He hadn't believed her after all.

That would change.

"No, it probably hasn't," was all she said. After a few moments, Buffy asked, "Why Wolfram and Hart, Wes? Giles seemed pretty convinced that it couldn't be anything good. Is Spike involved there? I couldn't get a clear answer from Andrew."

Actually, it was more that she hadn't waited for a clear answer from Andrew.

Wesley blinked, trying to sort out the questions from the comments and decide which to answer first. "We took over the law firm because we thought we would be able to accomplish more with the resources at our disposal."

"You don't sound very sure of that right now." Buffy's sharp ears had caught his hesitation.

He sighed. "That's because I'm not, although I honestly don't know what I'm going to do about it right now. As for Spike, he's connected in some way, but not by choice. The amulet I believe he wore to close the Hellmouth was sent to Angel. When he opened the package, Spike appeared. Andrew did tell you he was a ghost for a while, didn't he?"

"I didn't let him get that far," Buffy admitted.

Wesley, knowing Buffy's impatience, merely smiled. "Yes, well, Spike got a box in the mail, something flashed, and he was solid again. We're still not sure how it happened, or what might have been behind it."

"What if he wanted to leave? Would he be able to?"

"There's nothing holding him here, Buffy," Wesley replied, pulling up in front of his apartment building. "At least, nothing such as what you're talking about."

She wanted to ask if he knew why Spike hadn't come to her. Buffy knew that it would have been possible to at least pick up the phone and call. Wesley had been right, however. That was something she would have to ask the vampire.

Wesley handed her a key. "To the apartment," he explained. "There isn't much room, but you are both welcome to stay there."

She shook her head, grateful for his offer. "I don't think so, Wes, but thanks. I've still got my hotel room."

"How long will you stay?" he asked.

Buffy hesitated and then sighed. "As long as it takes, I guess." Although she didn't elaborate, Wesley understood. There were some things that didn't have a timeline.

~~~~~

Spike had given up on the video games after a while. His fingers were mostly working, but he needed to be in tip-top condition to survive in Mortal Kombat . Even Spike could get tired of losing.

There was little else to do in Wesley's apartment besides read, and he couldn't seem to concentrate on any of the available books. Spike wished he'd gone to the office with the ex-Watcher. At least then he would have been able to annoy Angel for a while.

That was about all he was good for these days.

Spike shook his head, angry with himself. He was brooding, and he never brooded. That was Angel's job description, not his. That Slayer, the crazy one, had shaken him up more than a little bit. Spike had gotten a chance to see himself through her eyes, and even though he wasn't the man she'd thought he was, it didn't really matter. As he'd told Angel, he could have been. He had done some truly horrible things.

It didn't do any good to brood, though. Feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to change anything.

The knock on the door surprised him. Spike hadn't thought Wesley received many visitors. He opened the door without looking and stared at what he saw.

"Buffy?"

"Hey."

It was impossible. She wasn't supposed to come to him. Even if Andrew had told her, Spike would have thought she moved on. Wasn't that what she was supposed to do?

"Buffy."

"That would be me." The Slayer had vacillated between being calm, cool and collected and throwing herself into his arms. At the moment, she was still trying to decide because Spike didn't appear to be all that welcoming. Had he gotten over her after all?

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked.

Hurt flashed across Buffy's face. "I'm here to see you."

"Why?" Spike asked, sounding bewildered.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Does the Hellmouth ring a bell, Spike? Big, flame-y vampire? Me saying I loved said vampire?" She tapped her foot impatiently, beginning to think that she needed to be action-girl. "Are you going to invite me in?"

Of course, out of respect to Wesley, they probably needed to take the action back to her hotel.

Spike stood aside, silently asking her to enter. "Did Andrew tell you?"

"Yes, he did," Buffy replied. "It's a good thing too, because I'm beginning to think that I would never have known."

He shrugged. "I didn't know what to say."

"'I'm back' would have worked," Buffy shot back. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Spike scowled, angry that she was already putting him on the defensive. "I was thinkin' that I went out a hero an' then I came back! I didn't know what you'd say!"

Toe-to-toe with him, Buffy got right up in his face, glad that he was barefoot and she was wearing her high-heeled boots. It allowed her to be nearly nose to nose without standing on tip-toe, which would have ruined the whole effect. "I told you I loved you, you big, dumb vampire!"

"Right after you'd been kissin' Peaches!" Spike shot back. "How the bloody hell was I supposed to know you meant it!"

"Because I did!" Buffy wanted to cry at this point. Spike was supposed to be the one who saw right through her down to the heart of things. He was supposed to just look in her eyes and know. "I loved you." Her voice softened. "You weren't supposed to die. We were supposed to have more time."

Spike took a step back. "Buffy—"

"Remember I said 'maybe when?'" she asked. "Well, now is when."

She was close enough to touch. That's what got Spike. He'd dreamed of this moment, of course. It had always ended with them making love, with declarations of undying devotion. He'd dreamed it so often at this point that he wasn't sure this was real. "What are you sayin'?"

Buffy decided the time for words was over. She kissed him. Full-on lips, tongues, hands holding him tightly, fingers tangling in the curls at his neckline. His hair was too slicked back, and so she made sure to muss it up with her questing fingers.

She felt it when he gave in, when Spike relaxed into her embrace. His fingers tightened around her waist, bringing her body flush against his. His lips and tongue forced her to move a little slower, and once Buffy felt him respond, she knew she could take her time.

They would get that time they deserved.

When Buffy finally broke off the kiss to breathe, she leaned back, staring up at him. "I'm saying that I meant every single word in the sense in which I don't want you to go anywhere ever again."

Spike frowned, still not quite able to believe it. His dreams did not come true, and this was feeling a lot like that. "Say it again," he demanded.

"I love you." Buffy raised an eyebrow. "And if you ever tell me I don't again, I will kick your ass six ways from Sunday."

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