Affinity

Ginmar

Chapters 41-45

“Uh…what?”

“Cordelia’s baby.” Buffy specified, as if there were another baby around that they had been discussing. Angel shifted uncomfortably on the step, and Buffy recognized it for what it was: the sort of discomfort that preceded lying, especially male lying. “God, Angel, relax. Whose is it? I mean, what could possibly shock me? Is it Wes’…? Okay, actually, not sure I want to think of Wes like that at all. It’d be like thinking of Giles….Ugh. But anyway, how come she didn’t say anything? That’s a lot of stretch marks for Cordelia to deal with. Huh. Did he run off and leave her or something? It just seems so…different…for Cordelia.”

“Oh, God.” Angel said. “Why are we talking about this again?”

“Because you absolutely cannot talk about my personal life and my friends if I can’t do the same thing with your life and your friends.”

“Yeah, but, Buffy, what if the same stuff doesn’t happen to me that happens to you?”

“Well…” She said thoughtfully. “I guess you’re right. It’s not like you can date somebody who’s incredibly inappropriate that all your friends will disapprove of. But, you know, at least neither one of us has to worry about getting pregnant!”  Her face slowly changed as she watched his face freeze up. “Oh, God, Angel, I’m sorry. I really am. I just…” Her hands twisted together in her lap. “I’m so, so, sorry.” 

The silence that followed wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was positively excruciating. I can’t talk to him any more, Buffy thought. I used to think I could, but could I?

And Angel thought, I can’t tell her. She’ll never understand. “You know, it’s just that moment of perfect happiness that’s the curse.” He said quietly. “Imperfect happiness isn’t too bad.”

The words hung over them, twisting, changing, exploding.

“Oh. Oh.”  Buffy stared at him. “Angel…” She swallowed over a lump in her throat.  The one constant in her life had been him, and the connection they’d had. The type of connection he couldn’t have with anybody else. She considered her next words carefully, and tried to think mature thoughts, and of course blurted out what she actually wanted to say. “Oh. Oh. You mean…You had sex?”

“Do we have to discuss this?”  He did his uncomfortable shift again. “This is really hard for me.”

She just stared at him in astonishment. He was uncomfortable talking about his love life? Before she could jump in, he said quietly, “I have to…I have to settle, Buffy. I don’t have the options you have.”

She was still staring at him in that way he was now associating with unpleasant outbursts. She shook her head slightly, which made him even more nervous, but all she said was, “Were you always like this? Did I, like, just not notice because I was sixteen?” 

Angel winced again. Good, she thought. You won’t talk to me, then I’m going to make you so uncomfortable you’ll have to talk to me. “Angel, have you been taking notes? Because we’re getting real close to the part where we basically just repeat everything we’ve ever said today over and over till I fall over from starvation and exhaustion.”

“Park Place, baby, it’s all mine!”

Both of them stopped, startled, freezing in exactly the same pose, heads slightly lifted and turned, ears cocked to the sound of D’Hoffryn gloating. “Hah! I’ve always wanted Park Place! Tonight’s my night!”

Angel choked and then burst out laughing, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, and Buffy, after a shocked silence, smiled too, but more at Angel than at D’Hoffryn.  We used to do this, she thought. I remember this. What happened?

“It’s nice that he’s so mature,” Angel said cautiously, bringing back a sharp memory of the Angel she had known.

“Well, maybe that’s why he’s a vengeance demon.”

“One Monopoly board away from demonic employment,” Angel said dryly. “You never know when…”

“You know, now I’m curious as to what he was like when he was human.”

“Monopoly?” Angel said.

“Plus the whole wand thing,” Buffy pointed out.

“And he was the demon who turned Anya?” Angel speculated. He shrugged. “Nerd, I’m guessing. But a thousand years ago? Nerd with really bad hygiene. And bad teeth.”

Buffy sighed at that, her mind helpfully producing an all-too-vivid image of a snaggle-toothed, greasy character with gaping, picket fence teeth. The mental image faded, bit by bit, as she realized that Angel was watching her and she was watching back.  “Talk to me, Angel,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to dislike you.”

“How about if I do that?” Spike drawled from the doorway. “See you a minute, Buffy?”

Buffy glanced in frustration from Angel to Spike, her mouth opening and closing. Dammit, he was going to say something. I had him all softened up. Then another part of her brain asked, why should you have to soften him up? What was he hiding?

“Be right back,” she said to Angel. She stepped inside the kitchen, where Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her behind the basement door. “This better be good,” she whispered. “I really need to find out what’s going on.”

“Why? Why don’t you just call Cordelia and ask her?”

“She hasn’t called me.” Buffy said stubbornly. “That means she’s really uncomfortable talking about it, which means it would be really uncomfortable for her if I just asked her about it.”

“Because then she might ask how you found out in the first place.”

“Well, why? I could just tell her you were in LA.”

“Why was I in LA? You’re going to tell her that?”

“No,” Buffy dropped her eyes, unsure where he was taking this. “It’s not like she’ll ask, anyway. So…this wouldn’t have anything to do with me talking to Angel, would it? I mean, he and I, talking…Are you jealous?”

“Always,” Spike said, leaning in, grabbing her arms, and kissing her. Angel’s right outthere, her mind protested, but her body abruptly recalled the morning spent in bed, the teasing car ride, and responded eagerly. Maybe he’d expected resistance; maybe he’d expected something else, but he pulled away and looked at her. She read that expression correctly: when had he ever been any good at concealing his feelings?

“Jealous much?”

“Too bloody right,” he muttered, leaning against the wall, sliding his hands all the way down her back to her behind, and grabbing. He pulled her against him, driving his tongue into her mouth, and his erection against her stomach. She jerked back with a gasp as voices entered the kitchen.

“Look, what we need is strategy.” Wes said quietly.

“Oh, why bother? He’ll win anyway. He sulks if he doesn’t. Eats all the best deserts in the fridge…He once ate a whole cheesecake that was supposed to be for Anya’s. …” The fridge door opened and closed, and there was a curious silence, during which they could hear Wes make a frustrated sound. “Why don’t you use the bottle opener?” Hallie said skeptically. Another silence, during which Hallie gasped. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea! How did you hurt your hand like that?!”

“Well,” Wes said modestly. “I used to be a rogue demon hunter…” The voices receded, and Spike grabbed Buffy’s hand and pulled her down the basement steps. Oh, God, this is so bad, she thought. He turned around at the foot of the stairs, his face tight and intense, and she half-jumped, half-collided with him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her leg around his waist, and her tongue around his. He kissed her back hungrily, feverishly, reaching down and lifting her, pulling her other leg around his waist. She gasped into his mouth, half-laughing, half-groaning, as everything combined in exactly the right spot. He reeled across the basement floor with her, bumping her butt on the washing machine. Oh, God, this is so good, she thought, as he wrapped his arms all the way around and pulled her against him. “Oh, God, I can’t.” She whispered. “There’s no time. They’re right upstairs.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we?” Spike muttered against her mouth, but she was wavering and he saw it. He pulled one of her hands from his hair and fitted it to his crotch, watching her watch him as she did what she’d wanted to in the car. She molded her hand to his erection, and explored him through his jeans, unabashedly rubbing and stroking him, while his eyes squeezed shut and she wished it was skin rather than fabric. “Oh, God.” she whispered, finally.  He pulled her off the machine, slipping his hand down her belly, down into her jeans, ignoring her gasp and her flinch as he found sensitive flesh. She tensed against him, grabbing his wrist, whether to stop or encourage him, he didn’t know. What he did know was that she kissed him greedily, moving against him in rhythm with his fingers. Reluctantly, he withdrew his fingers from her, guiding and coaxing her till she was facing away from him. He found the zipper of her jeans, and she stiffened, but he buried his face in her neck, muttering because he couldn’t help himself, “God, I want you.”  Instead of resisting, she arched against him in response. He pulled her jeans down a few inches, just enough, and felt her shudder and gasp.  “Shh…” He whispered. His hands shook as he fumbled with his belt and zipper, freeing his cock. “Shhh..” He repeated again, slipping one hand down her belly, between her legs, finding her wet and soft. He slipped inside her, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She shoved back against him, moving with him, covering his arm around her body with her own.  He couldn’t kiss her mouth, but he kissed her neck instead, moving slowly, pulling out and thrusting back inside her with a gasp.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “Oh, God.” She could hear the creak of the house upstairs, the sound of footsteps on the floorboards. None of it registered much at all as she absorbed the new sensations, the feel of it. He didn’t have to move hardly at all.  He was pressed against her back, one arm wrapped tightly around her, bracing himself on the top of the machine on his elbow, while his free hand roamed to all sorts of places. Her jeans were only lowered just below her buttocks, and he’d done little more than open his fly. What would this be like naked? She thought. She reached back with one hand, feeling his face twist as he sucked in air between kisses. Not exactly kisses, either; he was devouring her neck and back with his mouth, which didn’t seem the same as mere kissing.  She could feel the muscles in her legs trembling as she got closer, the muscles quivering as he surged inside her, starting to move faster and faster, the two of them moving like one thing. Beast with two backs, she thought suddenly, remembering something he’d tossed at her once.

“Buffy?” Wes called.

Spike’s eyes jerked open, and Buffy froze. Both of them held their breath, as there was a pause in the kitchen, then footsteps moving toward the porch. Angel, Buffy thought. Spike gasped in her ear, and she went rigid.  The kitchen door opened.

“She was just talking to Spike.” Angel said. There was an eloquent silence .The footsteps came closer, and now there were more of them.

“Fuck!” Spike muttered breathlessly. Then, with a low groan, he eased out of her, jerking his pants up. Before he zipped himself up, though, he straightened her up, pulling her jeans up. She was in a daze, so lost she could do little more than tug at the waistband of her jeans. He did it for her, wincing as she flinched. Just enough time for a kiss on the tip of her nose, then, grimacing, he tended to himself, zipping up with exquisite care. By that time, Buffy had recovered enough to step in front of him to hide the suspicious state of his jeans, just as Wes followed by Angel tiptoed down the stairs. At the sight of them, Wes stopped, dropping his eyes. Behind him, Angel stepped down stiffly, hands jammed in his coat pockets.

“Uh…? Excuse me.”

“Yeah.” Angel said sarcastically. “Excuse us.”  His lips were so tight with anger they were little than a dash.

“That’s okay, mate.” Spike said, attempting a nonchalant lean against the washing machine, and missing it entirely. He fumbled, and Buffy shifted in her place, to make sure she was still standing in front of him.

“Knock it off.” Buffy said tightly. “What’s wrong…?”

“Well, there’s no champagne, and I don’t think Angel really should drive…” Angel’s scowl tightened even further at that, and Buffy thought uneasily, He looks like Angelus when he looks that mad.

Spike and Buffy both stared at him for a moment, then turned to look at each other. “Champagne.” Spike said thoughtfully.

“Ordinarily, I’d go myself…” Wes said apologetically. “It’s just that D’Hoffryn is being rather…”

“Oh, no.” Spike said.

“No.” Buffy said vaguely. “No problem.”  Wes turned eagerly and ran up the stairs, but Angel remained. Buffy cleared her throat. “I said,  ‘no problem.’”

Angel glared at them both, and then, with a completely unnecessary swish of his coat, stalked up the stairs.

Spike materialized against her and Buffy sagged back against him. He grabbed her arms and muttered in her ear, “Car. Us. Naked. Okay? Just hold on.”

“Oh, sure.” She whispered sarcastically. “Thanks.” He pulled her against him, pressing his crotch against her, and she quivered.

Going up the stairs was absolute torture, and it was compounded by the fact that he had to grab his duster and shrug it on to hide his condition. It was with some interest that he watched her very carefully place each foot, one at a time, in front of each other. In the kitchen, she started to turn toward the back porch, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the front of the house. That was when he noticed that his own walk left something to be desired in the normality area; he walked like a man who’d had a sudden amputation. Which was pretty much what it felt like.

After an eternity, they reached the living room doorway, where three startled faces looked up at the interruption.  Wes stared up at them for a moment, and then looked down. “Beer.” Spike said by way of explanation.

“Champagne, too.” Buffy pointed out.

With that, they marched to the door, calmly opened it, and with Spike gesturing Buffy out the door grandly, they stepped out on the porch. For a moment, with Spike ushering Buffy out the door, he looked like a weird only-in-Sunnydale game show host, directing weird flourishes at the prizes. Then Spike carefully shut the door, and they both took deep breaths, and dashed off across the lawn. Spike yanked open the door and Buffy practically dived in, only to be followed by Spike, landing directly on top of her, and hitting every spot on her body that was far too sensitive already. He crawled up her body and found her mouth with his own.

The next-door neighbors clicked their porch light on.

Spike groaned and swore, noting for the first time the passenger side door was still open. Reluctantly, he sat up, conscious of Buffy’s wince as he pulled away from her hands. Resentfully, she continued to lay flat on the seat, but gradually she pulled her arms up and crossed them. This did not bode well. “We do have to get beer or champagne or whatever the fuck-all it was.” He muttered. “C’mon, luv, up you get.” 

They wrestled around one another on the front seat so that Spike could find himself behind the wheel. Buffy slammed the passenger side door shut, and he pulled out from the curb with far more screeching of tires than was strictly necessary. He had no idea where he was going. All he was aware of was Buffy sitting beside him, several miles away. “Buff?”

She looked at him warily, entirely unsure of what her response should be. I used to be sixteen, she thought. Now I’m looking for a real dark parking spot so I can…”Hey!” She exclaimed.

Following her eyes, he saw what she did; a dead-end street with only a construction site on it. He sighed in relief, pulling in and parking the car in the shadow of the construction crane. Even before the car stopped moving, she was sliding toward him, and by the time the motor had started to cool off, she was on his lap. They met at the mouth, Spike shrugging out of the coat, never once separating from her lips. She tugged at his shirt, which probably would have worked better if she’d once stopped kissing him, and watched what she was doing.  He was wiggling out of his coat, trying to shove it away and get his hands under her shirt when there was a shadow at the window, and a knock at the glass. Buffy jumped and Spike hissed through his teeth, turning to find himself confronted with a security guard. The guard looked both bored and pissed at the same time. Spike cranked the window down and glared.

“Not here, folks.” He smirked. “Get a room instead of putting on a free..”
Spike snarled at him and snapped into game face. The guard tossed his flashlight into the air and then all they saw was his retreating back, bobbing away above flashing shoe soles. Spike sighed and banged his head back against the headrest. “Right then.” He muttered, avoiding her eyes. Buffy slid to his side and he started the car, but he paused as she adjusted, stretching her legs over his lap, pulling herself closer with one arm hooked around his neck. She sucked at his ear, then worked her way down his neck. He could feel her smile into his neck as he shivered. She tickled the back of her neck with one hand, but the other was slipping down his chest, between his legs, gentle and insidious. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he wheeled the car around, but when she tightened her right hand and kissed the very line of his jaw he had to shake his head at the futility of it.  When he turned his head to her she was dreamy-eyed and flushed, too much not to kiss. The car swerved disastrously, and he pulled his eyes back to the road. He slid his arm around her waist, bringing her closer still, so that she was burning into his side, but she pulled his arm away, bringing his hand to her mouth. He almost drove off the road entirely as she toyed with his index finger, biting it lightly, then kissing it. A quick glance found her with a mischievous look on her face that changed to a sly stare when she met his eyes. She put his middle finger into her mouth and sucked on it delicately. 

That was when he floored it. 

The car bumped wildly down the street, screeching past a ragged gate and shuddering to a stop in front of his crypt. Buffy gave him an unreadable look, and then uncoiled herself from the car while it still jiggled with the momentum of its stopping. He was already in the crypt when he realized she wasn’t plastered to any part of his body any longer. He whipped around at the sound of the crypt door closing, and saw her, leaning back against the door, her face flushed. He stared at her, his entire focus narrowing in on her face, and then flashed across the floor to her, the door banging in the frame as he collided with her. In a good way, she thought, clutching at his shoulders. They were fumbling with each other’s clothes, trying to kiss and move at the same time. He ripped his belt free, undid his zipper, but in that tiny little time period she made a pathetic noise in her throat because his hands weren’t on her. He shoved against her even harder, not so much kissing her as he was devouring her. Her hands scrambled at his arms, his shoulders, fluttering from his hair to his face to around his neck, trying to find some place to alight.

For one relatively calm moment while he tried to unzip her pants with shaking hands, one of her hands found his erection and he had to pull away. Nose to nose, an inch apart, she stared into his eyes as she leaned away, wriggled out of her shoes, then slithered her jeans down her legs. The frenzy melted away. He took her face into his hands. Tasting her mouth with long and thorough strokes, but it was still a bit too much for her. She had to pull back now and then, leaning the back of her head against the door while she gasped for air. She tightened her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he reached down and picked her up.  They wiggled against each other, Buffy staring into Spike’s face, watching his face change as she moved against him, his cock sliding against her, maddening her.  That’s another face I like, she thought. Another one to remember. And then he slipped inside her, so deep she had time to gulp as gravity pulled her down on top of him.

Oh, she thought. Oh. He grabbed the doorknob with one hand, moving against her, his face buried in her chest, her hands skittering in his hair as she shifted and moved, pulling his face up to kiss. Her thighs ached around his waist, his collarbone bumped into her face as she gasped into his shoulder. He burned inside her; she was going to catch fire, burst into flames…

And then she did. Her breath stopped in her chest, her hands fisted around his neck, and every muscle went rigid as if shocked and then spasmed. Her climax brought on his own, and she got to watch him, his head sagging back, his eyes closing as if to hold off some sort of agony. Even while her own body moved against her control, she kissed him weakly, softly, as if there was nothing left in her veins. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, and she cradled it with one arm, half glad he couldn’t see the expression on her face as she kissed his hair. All the blood in her body seemed to have been replaced by bubbles and the muscles in her legs had turned to rubber. He lifted his head, staring into her eyes as he held her around the waist while he wriggled out of her. Her legs slipped down his thighs, and her feet touched the ground, which seemed to be moving under her feet. Sighing, Spike leaned against her, nuzzling her neck and collarbone, but the romance was spoiled when he tickled her bottom.

“Hey! Way to spoil the mood!” Buffy exclaimed. Of course what mood was appropriate for a up-against-the-door quickie with a vampire that left both of them half-naked and shaking….? Well, that was a stumper, and Spike was not helping. He slid down and kissed her belly, his hands cupping her bottom in such a way that she tried to wriggle away. “Stop…” He started putting his tongue into his kisses, turning her bellybutton into an erogenous zone she hadn’t been aware till now. “Oh, stop, stop…Knock it off…Stop…” He slipped lower. “Oh…”She sighed suddenly. “Don’t stop, don’t stop…” He smiled into her skin, and her knees simply buckled under her. Spike eased her to the ground, and took advantage, even though she was clutching his hair tight enough to pull it into a Mohawk. It was worth it, just to see the way she arched into his mouth when she came, just to hear her scream when it hit her. He pillowed his head on her thigh and waited for her to recuperate, admiring the topography of her body as she tried to catch her breath. Fine with him, more time to indulge in unabashed Buffy watching, especially seeing as how it provided him with a pleasant respite in the midst of Angel-enduring. He sighed.

Buffy stared up at the ceiling, wondering where her bones had gone. How come the more they had sex, the more she wanted, and the better it got? Didn’t matter when, where, how, it was an addiction, except it didn’t make her feel bad. She couldn’t imagine lying comfortably, unabashedly naked with Riley, and not only not caring, but actually liking. There was an odd innocence to it, a complete absence of the guile she’d experienced with other men, where the goal had been to get some sort of control over her. Spike’s goal appeared to be to make her lose control as often and as enthusiastically as possible.

Her eyes snapped open, looked at the ceiling, and then she raised her wrist with her watch on it before her eyes. She groaned, lifted her head, and glared at Spike, aiming a very girlfriend-style kick at him. “Hey!”

“What?!”

“That wasn’t quick. It was supposed to be quick, and it…Oh, my God.”

“It was supposed to be quiet, too,” Spike pointed out, “But it seems that whoever was in charge of the quiet quickie division has been falling down on the job, too.” He stuck out his tongue at her, then turned it into a lascivious pout. When she sat up, he sat up as well, grabbing her legs and pulling her into his lap. Before she could do more than sulk at him, he leaned in and kissed her. She wrestled free, standing up and swaying, which he observed with a certain feeling of accomplishment. Then he got up himself, hampered slightly by the jeans around one ankle. Buffy was already pulling hers on, wincing as she did so. “What?” He asked.

“These are so…”She turned slightly pink. “Skanky. Ew.”

He pulled his own jeans up, buckling his belt, while Buffy grimly zipped hers up. “’Fraid it’s going to have to get a lot worse, though, pet.”

“Why’s that?”

He went and got one of his own beers from his fridge, opened it, and gestured at her reluctantly. “Angel.” He said. “He’ll…ah…know. What we’ve been doing.”

“Know? You mean….Oh. Ew.” She eyed the beer. “What’s that for?”

“Might be able to hide it.”

She thought about it. Angel knowing that they’d rushed off to have a not-so-quick-quickie, or sitting in a puddle full of beer on the way home? Besides, Angel already knew about her and Spike, even though he evidently thought he could talk her out of it. Then she thought of the look he’d get on his face as the realization hit, which a day full of talking his ear off had not accomplished.

She held out her hand for the beer, and Spike gave it to her. But he was rather startled when instead of pouring it on her jeans, she took a swig out of it, looked him straight in the eye, and then choked as the flavor of it hit. “Ah…gah.” Then she swallowed it.

“Buff…He’ll be able to…” He left the sentence tactfully unfinished.

“Well, he knows already.” She said grimly, trying another swig. “But he doesn’t think I should do someone, er, something that he doesn’t approve of. So maybe he’ll really know now.”

The first thing they saw from down the block was Xander’s car, parked in front of the house.  “Great.” Spike muttered. “Maybe they’re just leaving.”

“Hey!” she smacked him. “You like Anya.”

“Well…”

“You do….don’t you?”

Spike shrugged and pulled over. Her smacking him would have carried slightly more weight if she hadn’t been sitting yet again half across his lap, one arm around his shoulder, and utterly unaware of it. “I guess.”

“No honor amongst demons?”

“She’s a former demon,” Spike pointed out. “I, however, have not let my membership lapse.”

“I’d noticed.” He got out, reaching in the back for the bags, but by the time he’d gathered them up she was out of the car, looking at him over the top of the car for a moment.

“Had you?” He eyed her as well. “Was it the excessive reliance on sunscreen that gave me away, you think? Or the aversion to Judeo-Christian religious symbols? Or maybe it was the, oh, I don’t know, sexual endurance level---“

“Hey!” She hissed. “ We’re in public!”

“So which is it?” He enquired evilly. “Public discussion or vampire discussion that’s got your knickers in a twist? Well, assuming you were wearing any?”

“Public! Somebody might hear you!” She whispered, glancing around. “Dawn’s already asking about sex! I don’t want her to be reminded that it…exists. Or happens. Or whatever.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Just have to resign myself to that one, okay? Like in ten years or so.”

“Uh.” he muttered, suddenly sober. “Could always show ‘em the fangs, Slayer. That’ll keep the buggers away…from…her…Oh….” Off her glance, he shifted his eyes away, wondering what he’d done now. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “Cross that bridge when we get to it, won’t we? Dawn’s not nearly old enough to begin dating, is she? Nothing to worry about.”

She gave him a look as he crossed around the front of the car, another Buffy look he simply couldn’t interpret. I can speak how many languages, but nobody’s ever yetdeciphered Female, he thought to himself. Nevertheless, there was something companionable about their silence as they approached the house, even if both of them were bracing for something, him for Harris, and she for Angel.

The Monopoly game was in full swing when they entered the living room, with Anya having enthusiastically entered the fray and laid waste to her opponents. Angel was sitting in aloof silence at one end of the couch, watching the players go at it, while Harris perched on the edge of a chair and from all appearances tried to rein Anya in. Hallie seemed to be doing little but moving her piece, giggling, and clutching at Wes’ arm. D’Hoffryn sat at the opposite end of the couch from Angel, staring twitching at Anya’s every play. As the two of them came in the front door, they all looked up, and Spike raised the bags from the liquor store, partly as explanation, partly as shield. “Beer. Wine. Champagne. Let’s medicate, shall we?” D’Hoffryn perked up instantly, raising a hand like an obedient schoolboy. “Oh…Heineken?” Spike freed one from the bag, and tossed it to him, and retreated to the kitchen, but not before catching the slow tightening of Angel’s face as a certain realization dawned. Angel’s eyes darted at Spike, then Buffy, and stayed on her. He stared at her, then slowly ran his eyes up and down her entire length, before looking her in the eye again, his jaw agape, his eyes wide and startled. For a moment, he looked so much like he had when she’d loved him that it hurt. Then it vanished, as his face twisted and he drew back an inch or two. It might as well have been a mile. She felt that as keenly as she’d felt it when she’d stabbed him.

“Buffy?”

She looked at him squarely. “Angel? Is there something you want to say?”

They stared at each other, three feet and three years apart.

His lips tightened, and he shook his head at her. It came across to her less as a negative answer than a total negation of her and everything she’d asked him. Unless I do what youwant, you’re not going to be nice to me? She thought. Well, fine. Two can play at that game. “Well, we’re back.” She said lightly. “I guess I’ll go take a shower, and then we can talk about Cordelia’s baby.”

Wes’ jaw dropped, and he slowly closed his mouth, looking for a long moment at Angel, then back at Buffy. “Angel?” He asked.

“Never mind, Wes.”

“But…Angel….”

“I’ll deal with it, Wes.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like….” Wes said slowly, but Angel turned around and looked at him, and he suddenly remembered what he’d felt early, staring down a drunken Angel in his office. He dropped his gaze, and everyone in the room suddenly found it difficult to know where to look. Hallie’s bright and perky face softened into concern, and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze, completely different from the rather clutchy grip she’d had on it all evening. When he glanced up at her, she met his eyes firmly and gave him a little nod. He found his voice: “I have pictures.” He said helpfully.

“What?” Xander asked. Even D’Hoffryn tore his attention away from the game.

“Oh, I have pictures.” Wes said with forced cheer, pulling out his wallet. “He’s such a remarkable baby, really.” He flipped open his wallet to show the credit card compartment, which turned out to be completely filled with pictures of Cordelia, a young black man none of them recognized, a slender girl who again was unknown, and a chubby-faced infant who couldn’t have been more than a month or two old. “See? That’s Connor.” He passed the wallet around. D’Hoffryn was the first one to take it, his face scrunching up at he looked at the infant. “Aw.” He muttered.

“God, looks like someone’s had an influence on the poor girl,” Spike said, rejoining the group. “I didn’t have her pegged for the Irish name type of thing. More like a Justin or a whatever’s trendy type of name.”  Angel winced, but Spike was working his way through the bodies around the living room and missed it.  He flopped down into the chair and looked around. Angel stood immobile, hands jammed in his pockets, and Spike raked him with a skeptical glance.

“What’s the matter, sweetness? You act like a minister with dirty pictures stashed somewhere. Or a blonde who’s afraid somebody’s gonna find the peroxide.” Angel made a disgusted sound, which made Spike laugh outright. “Better watch it, Grandpa. That’s an old man’s noise.” He turned in his seat to look at the other vampire, now truly amused. “Is that it? You don’t approve of Cordelia’s kid, do you?  Does it soften the blow, disapproving of something you can’t have? Or do?”

Angel took a swift step forward, but Buffy, lingering in the doorway, cleared her throat quietly. “My house.” She said quietly. Xander recognized it as the tone she’d once used on Quentin Travers. “You shouldn’t be worried about each other. You should be worried about me.”

She stood there and stared Angel down, till bit by bit the tension in his body relaxed and he slumped. Then she turned and walked up the stairs. At the landing, she stepped inside her room and then slammed the door, just because she had to slam something. What she wasn’t expecting was the yelp from the bathroom.

“Uh, hello…?”

“Oh, is that you?” came a familiar voice. There was the sound of water sloshing, then the door creaked open and Lorne peeked through. He was wearing a shower cap. “Uh..be just a moment more.” He disappeared and the door almost shut, but there was a squeak, and Lorne reappeared, plucked a yellow rubber ducky from between the door and the jamb, and vanished. She flopped down on the bed. There’s a demon in my bathroom, she thought. Maybe it’s the Sunnydale version of ‘How Much is That Doggy in the Window?’It occurred to her that at the moment, the humans in the house were outnumbered by demons, and this was scarcely the first time. Normal? Here? This is normal?Being human in Sunnydale is like being….a virgin  in a whorehouse. Rare and not likely to stay in that condition..

She stared up at the ceiling, half-listening for fighting noises downstairs. Nothing. Were Spike and Angel behaving? Or were they just afraid of her?  She smiled at the ceiling. Not a half-bad thought, actually. At the very least it would make them behave.

She stared up at the water spot in the plaster, and tried to remember normality. All that came to her were vague pastels, memories of crushes, fashions, and gossip. Angel. I’m too old to be twenty-one. Oddly enough, with Spike, she felt not her age, or her vulnerability, but her potential. She looked forward. With Angel, she struggled to remember. Loving him had been the last gasp of the teenager she had desperately wanted to be----the cheerleader with the boyfriend who should have been a football captain. In real life, it was very likely what he’d been.

Football player. She shook her head at herself. What had Spike said?

What had he been?

She rolled over on her side, punching the pillow into a comfy shape. Of course, vampires were nothing like the humans they’d been. Angel didn’t act like a football player, he acted like the dad of a football player, somebody who’d probably peaked in school, and then gone downhill from there. It was funny how she’d never really seen some of these tendencies at sixteen, but who could, the way Angel had mysteriously swooped in and out, disappearing before she could complete a sentence, much less ask a question? Whereas, of course, with Spike, he was always around, always talking….

“So what were you like when you were human?”

Spike was a perfect example; geeky git as a human….

…a walking rebellion as a vampire.

She sat up abruptly.

He’d thought of himself as a poet; the others had thought of him as a git, at least according to Spike. Angel hadn’t disagreed with that assessment at all; she’d seen it herself. They act like two brothers, the older one picking on the younger one, if the older one was an athlete, and the younger one was a geek…What was the name of that football player who died, and whose nerd of a brother tried to make him a girlfriend?

The bathroom door opened, and Lorne stepped out, fully dressed, if damp, and toweling his hair vigorously.  He surfaced from the towel with a rapturous smile on his face. “Honey, I feel like a whole new demon. What a palatial bathroom that is. I’m envious. And nice shampoo, too.” He paused, studying her. “What’s going on, sweetheart? You look like you just got hit over the head.”

“Do you think Angel’s like a football player?”

“I…What?”

“He acts like a football player.  He acts like a guy who used to be a football player. He acts like a former football player who’s going bald and selling used cars and---” Inspiration struck.  ”----fussing about his hair. He acts like he’s middle aged all of a sudden.”

“Well.” Lorne said carefully. “Sweetie, I can’t reveal anything, but Angel’s going through some changes.”

“Why? What changes? Middle age?”

“Long story, darling, and not something I can really tell you.”

“How come?”

“Professional ethics and all that.”

“Yeah, but you’re a demon.”

“We have ethics.”

“What are they?”

“We’re sort of like the AMA. Can’t reveal stuff, you know. Maybe like a priest.”

“Why, are you celibate?”

“Not by choice, sweetie, not by choice.” He gave her a sly look. “Unlike you.”

She shrugged, embarrassed. He shook his head at the ceiling as if appealing either to a deity or the plaster for help. “Sweetie, on the one hand, it’s nice to see someone taking my advice. But you know what? I don’t get to offer advice like that a lot of the time. You know why?” He looked down, gathering his thoughts. “Love is rare, and most people don’t get to find it. So they don’t ask me for advice about dealing with it. They ask me for advice about coping with not having it. Or poor shadows of it.  They ask me advice about finding it. They use substitutes, they find close facsimiles, they fall in love or they tell themselves they fell in love, they love somebody who doesn’t love them back… but they’re not in the position you’re in. Somebody loves you. Doesn’t make any sense at all. But run with it, sweetie. Life is short, especially if you’re the Slayer. Get all the chocolate cake and nookie you can.”  Buffy blushed bright red, and he slapped one arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug that so reminded her of Joyce that she blinked for a second, whipped between a memory and wish. God, I wish Mom was alive. I could ask her about Spike.

“There’s no real dilemma here, is there?” Lorne asked. “Not a big talker are you?  I think, you just damn the torpedoes and full speed a head.” He squeezed her again. “Angel, well, Angel….”

“How long have you known him?”

Lorne thought about it. “I tend to measure time in terms of demons fought, drinks drunk, clubs destroyed, diapers changed…”

“That’s the dilemma.” Buffy sighed. “Cordelia’s baby.”

That took a moment to sink in. “Cordelia’s…what?”

“Her baby.”

“Her baby?” Lorne pulled away to look at her. “Who told you it was Cordelia’s baby?”

“Well, Spike saw her in LA, and…”

“What did Angel say about that?”

“Well, we got interrupted last time. I don’t think he likes talking about it.”

“How did you get interrupted?”

“Spike.”

“Ah. How fortunate.” He rubbed his chin, obviously thinking, and Buffy stood up. “You know what? Go take a shower, it helps. I have to go do something.”

“Huh?” Buffy frowned at him, puzzled by the sudden change into Mr. Decisive Demon, but the siren song of the shower called to her. She shrugged it off and went to prepare for the next round. Nothing like being all shower fresh when you argue.

Behind her, Lorne sat on the bed, and stared at her as the bathroom door clicked shut. “Yes, how fortunate. For Angel.”



Gotta stop having sex in the tub if that’s all I’m going to think about later, Buffy thought. It just seemed a terrible hardship to soap her own hair and scrub her own back, to slosh around with no sleek male body to fit against and melt into. Kissing him under the stream of water, feeling his body warm to hers with the temperature of the water, slipping and sliding against his skin. It wasn’t even sexual, that feeling, well----until it had turned into sex----it was more like a whole body sigh, as every muscle relaxed, every cell exhaled its tension.  The way his head tilted back slightly when she did anything to him, his lips parting, his eyes drifting half shut….

Great. That was helpful.

 She soaped resentfully, sighing periodically, but no one came to her rescue. After a moment it occurred to her that Lorne might very well be still in her bedroom, and God only knows how he was interpreting her sighs and mutters. She scrubbed between her toes and replayed Angel’s look as he’d looked at her, reality dawning over his face, shock setting in….

The question was, how much reality?

Maybe it was just being around Spike, who habitually blurted out whatever thought was in his head at the time, no matter where he was or what he was doing. Example: “I knew it. Only thing better than killing a Slayer would be f----“ But at least she knew exactly what was going on. Not like he was going to go all broody or anything on her.

She smiled at the thought. Spike’s version of brooding would probably be to throw things and swear all the time instead of just now and then.

Her smile faded. It wasn’t just that Spike blurted out whatever was on his feverish brain, no matter what; it was that she was surrounded by people who didn’t quite do the same. Willow? There was a huge chunk of missing there. Xander? Between the Dancing Demon and his refusal to acknowledge what Spike had done over the summer, she didn’t know where she stood with him. Giles? Gone.

And now Angel.

What was wrong there?

It wasn’t that he said anything that seemed false. It was just that what he said seemed so…incomplete.  She’d been expecting something else to come out of his mouth, some other shoe to drop, and it hadn’t happened.

What could it be?

Did Cordelia get impregnated by a demon?

Well, okay, bad, but who cared?  After all, this was California, they made birth announcements for just about every pairing. Why not interspecies?

Okay, maybe it was something worse. Cordelia got impregnated by an actor? Again, ugh, but so what?

Musician?

Mucous demon?

Who cared? Why hadn’t she called? Why hadn’t she written?

She stared down at the water, scrubbing between her toes, thinking, It’s so much more fun when Spike does that. Crap.

Had something bad happened to Cordelia?

Again, she had to dismiss the idea. There was no hint of that in Angel’s speech, his demeanor, his attitude.

He just doesn’t want to talk to me.



He sat on the bed for a moment, listening to her moving around in the bathroom, starting the water, getting out towels. Then he got up and padded in his bare feet to the stairs and silently glided down them till he was standing motionless in the hall outside the living room, watching the Monopoly game. Angel stiffly sat on one end of the couch, cheek in one hand, the picture of slowly-stewing irritation, while Spike sprawled cheerfully in the chair across from him, sipping nonchalantly from a beer and breaking out occasionally into a grin of pure malice. He was practically bouncing in his seat with sadistic delight.

Wes and Hallie huddled on one side of the coffee table while D’Hoffryn intently scanned the board from the head of the table and cast sullen looks at Anya, who appeared to have taken over on behalf of both herself and Xander. Xander was paying more attention to the TV than to the game, glancing over his shoulder now and then at Anya’s exclamations and muttering, “That’s nice, sweetie.”

Lorne leaned in the doorway. I used to have a club, he thought. I used to have a club. Iused to be somebody. Now I change diapers for somebody. It wasn’t so much the diapers he minded, it was the fact that Connor didn’t seem to have the same effect on Angel as he did on himself and Wes. Hell, Wes was carting around pictures of the little rug rat. Given the opportunity, he himself could natter on happily about the little brat for quite some time, but it bugged him that Angel…wasn’t. Might not be my kid, might not be my ex….but how could you be so proud of the kid and not talk about him with the love of you life? Didn’t he trust her? Why was he lying to her? 

“So, Angel…” He said. “I guess you and Buffy have been having some interesting conversations.”

Angel looked up at him, and a slow moment passed, ticking by, as everyone else ignored them. “Well…Yeah.”

“Cause, of course, you’ve been discussing Cordelia’s baby and all. God only knows that’s a subject you want to just go on and on about.”

Angel’s eyes sharpened suddenly, and Lorne found himself confronted with a face he didn’t recognize, but Xander did: Angelus. He glanced up from the game, casually looked from demon to vampire, then back at the television. There was a moment’s delay while his brain caught up with his eyes, before his body recognized what his eyes had seen, and he froze in his place. Then he turned and looked carefully at Angel. He glanced up at Lorne, too.

“Well, who wouldn’t be fond of that kid?” Angel chuckled. His sudden smile looked more like a grimace than a smile, the sort of thing a man might do during acute intestinal distress.

“Yeah, who wouldn’t?” Lorne asked quietly. “Because evidently, one way or another, his father doesn’t care to own up.”

And Xander watched as the tense smile was whisked off Angel’s face as if it had been slapped off.  His hands turned cold, and his face felt hot. “So…Cordelia had a kid?” He interjected weakly. “ Cordelia as a single mom. Can’t imagine she’d do that. Isn’t it kind of bad for the…” He gulped as Angel turned to him, that tight, white face bringing back all too many memories.  “…..complexion?” He finished breathlessly. Angelus, crowding against him in a hallway, while his best friend struggled to keep breathing.  Was it unfair of him to still blame Angel for…well…..everything? If he had helped them instead of, well, everybody else….Maybe you just didn’t get credit with the Powers That Be for helpingyour friends.A sudden thought hit him. He never came back after the funeral.  Looking at him now, he was seventeen again, and it wasn’t a good seventeen, either.

“Oh, pregnancy isn’t bad for the complexion.” Anya said helpfully. “It’s actually quite beneficial.”

Spike had glanced up as the tension mounted, his wide grin slowly ebbing to a smile, then fading entirely away. Wes, likewise, had leaned away from the game, and was steadily regarding Angel. Hallie kept her eyes fixed on her hand, laid next to Wes’ on the carpet. 

“Good to know.” Xander said, nodding vigorously, his eyes fixed on Angel’s face. “Good to know. I’ll be taking notes.”

“No, you won’t, sweetie.” Anya said absently, hopping a piece several squares and seizing on a property that made D’Hoffryn’s face pucker up with tension. “Your handwriting is awful, but you make up for it by doing lots and lots of----“

“Anya!”

“Oh, yes.” Anya looked up, finding all faces turned to her. “It’s okay, Xander, see? I didn’t make any sort of sexual reference. Isn’t that good?”

“That’s wonderful, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.” He leaned forward and pecked her on the lips.

“Why are your lips so cold?” Anya enquired. “Are you afraid I’m playing for money?”

“No, sweetie, if you did, we’d be able to buy a house.”

“Hey!” Anya said suddenly, turning to the other players. “Could we play for money?”

A ring of skeptical faces suddenly surrounded her, like petals on a flower. “Anyanka,” Hallie chided.  “Is that all you think of, money?”

“Oh, no!” Anya corrected brightly. “The rest of the time, it’s Xander!”

Xander turned suddenly to her, all the fear washing out of his system.  “Anya…”

“What?” She whispered, worried by the look on his face. He was so serious all of a sudden, his eyes full of something that she couldn’t interpret. “What did I say wrong?”

He cupped her shoulder with one hand, stroking her comfortingly. “Absolutely nothing, sweetie. Absolutely nothing.” 

“Which is nice.” Lorne said. “Because it does kind of bring us back to the motif of the evening, which is sort of similar. Let’s talk.”

“Already tried that.” Buffy said from the stairs. “Didn’t work. So what do you want to talk about?”

Lorne regarded her steadily. “Oh, this, that, stuff. Here’s an idea. How saying nothing sometimes can be worse than lying. Point, counterpoint.”

Spike yawned. “Are you getting all philosophical? Because I could use a nap.”

“Yeah.” Angel muttered. “I’ll bet you’re tired.”

“Would you?” Spike leaned forward, his legs relaxing, falling slightly further open. “Because that would be kind of ignorant of you, wouldn’t it? Not that you’d really…know.”  He relaxed further, sinking deeper into the cushions of the chair, His hand sliding down his chest and pausing at his belt buckle.

“Hey!” Buffy snapped.

“Sorry, luv.” Spike glanced at her, abashed. “Didn’t mean it quite that way.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Angel said. “You and…”

“Well, I know what you mean.” Buffy said. “After all, he’s still here.”

Heads snapped up around the table. “Uh….” Xander asked, then swallowed. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing.” Anya sighed. “They’re just going to talk and talk and talk, and then they won’t even say what’s pissing them off.”

“And nobody will get revenge.” D’Hoffryn muttered sadly. “And then they’ll probably start talking again.”

“No, we’re done talking.” Buffy said quietly. “Because you’re not talking to me, Angel. I can tell you’re….you’re not exactly lying but you’re not telling the truth.” Her glance fell on Xander, suddenly, and her face softened. “And I’m used to being around friends who at least try to tell me the truth.”

“Oh, we can?” Anya said. “Because that top…” She paused regretfully. “It’s just so the wrong…”Xander poked her and she frowned. “Hey! She said…”

“No, it’s okay.” Buffy said. “You know, I did some thinking in the shower. “ Spike cocked his head at her, consideringly. Damn. Knew I was missing something. “And I just kind of came to the conclusion that you don’t want to talk to me, Angel. You just don’t. And I want to know why.” 

Angel glanced scornfully at Spike for a second, no longer, as if the younger vampire weren’t worth more attention. “You know why.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Him.” Angel spat out. “Him and his chip. I trust him about as far as I trust that chip.”

To Buffy’s surprise, Spike didn’t get mad at all. He simply looked disappointed and rather disgusted.  “Yeah, because souls are so trustworthy.” 

“How would you know?” Angel spat. “All you have is a piece of plastic.”

Spike stared into his eyes. Again, his reaction was not the one Buffy expected.  “You’re forgetting, mate.” Spike said. “I have a lot more than that. ”

The two vampires stared at one another, and Buffy felt the most curious shiver of depression slither up her spine. There went my childhood, she thought, and the way I used to feel about him.

“Yeah.” Angel said quietly. “How long before the chip fails?”

“There’s something you’re missing, Angel.” Buffy said quietly. “It’s not the chip you have to trust, it’s me. If he really wanted to be all Big Bad, he’d have minions doing his work for him. I mean, if you really want something, you really do find a way to get it done.” She looked around the room, to find all the faces turned up to her, running the gamut from Xander’s rapt expression to Wes’ distracted glance. Lorne buffed his nails on his shirt, assessed the result, and gave her a firm little nod without missing a beat.  “If I trust Spike, then you should, too. When somebody almost lays down their life for my sister, for me, and…well…..doesn’t insult my friends nearly as much as he could have, I think that means something. So either you trust me, or you don’t. That’s fine. But don’t pretend there’s anything left between us if it’s only when you feel like it.” 

Angel jumped to his feet. “Buffy…You’re going to tell me that you…trust Spike more than me?”

“He’s been here, Angel. You haven’t even tried to be here.”

“Buffy…” Angel ran his hands through his hair, something that made Spike open his mouth. Buffy could practically see the remark form on his tongue, and shot him a look that made him sigh and sink back in his chair. “I can’t trust him. I can’t. I’ve known him since…”

Spike frowned suddenly.  “You don’t know nothin’, mate, nothin’ at all about me.” Putting his beer carefully aside, he stood up, as casually as if he intended to stretch. “Don’t give me this crap about you knowin’ me at all. I haven’t seen you in a hundred years—well, except for that little relapse----but I have heard about you. What you did to Dru. What you were doin’ with Darla. Or is it only you that’s allowed to…?” Angel snarled at that, and lunged forward, but Buffy was faster, snapping between them.

“Darla?” Buffy asked.

“Nothing.” Angel said. “Nothing.”

Buffy stared into his face, seeing more desperation than anger. “Why can’t you believe me?” She asked.

In answer, Angel just jerked his chin at Spike, who was simply standing there, his arms crossed. “I know him, Buffy, and I’ve known him longer than you, no matter how you count it.” 

Buffy thought about it for a minute, then answered. “Well, he’s known you a lot longer than I have. Should I listen to him about you?”

Xander grinned to himself and swiftly stifled it behind his hand.  “Especially seeing as how it’s always been Angel trying to end the world, and ah, Spike…” Xander stopped so abruptly he made a choking sound. “Oh, God, I almost said something nice about Spike. Oh, God. Oh, God.” Anya patted him on the back efficiently, but her eyes never left the little scene going on in front of her. 

Spike’s glance in Xander’s direction was oddly consoling. “Know how you feel, Harris. Almost had the urge to say somethin’ about you which wasn’t entirely derogatory, but I laid down and it went away.”

“I don’t even care what it is you’re not telling me any more, Angel.” Buffy heaved a great sigh and turned and walked away, to stand in the doorway.  With her back to him, her head bowed, and her arms crossed, she continued, “I mean, I know it’s something about Connor, and I don’t think he’s Cordelia’s baby or anything, and I know you’re probably trying to protect him, but I really don’t understand why. And you won’t tell me. And you won’t listen to me, either.” She turned and looked at him. Everyone was still, even Spike, who had jammed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want it to end like this, Angel, I really don’t. I’ve lost too many people who I loved. The way you feel about somebody never goes away, does it?  Not even when they do.” Her throat closed, and her eyes filled, so that she had to look down again, to study her blurry socks. She looked up and saw her life, perfectly posed before her. Her past, her present, her future.  The past love of Angel, the present and perhaps future of Spike, and the constancy of Xander.  Even Wes and Hallie were woven into the fabric there, Wes part of her past, and part of Angel’s present, and Hallie from both Spike’s life and Anya’s. Why did they have to be of separate phases? Why couldn’t they all be like this, all the time, no ruptures, no separations? Why did it have to end?

She looked at Angel. “Choose, Angel.”

“Buffy, I can’t.”

“Then give me a good reason.”

All he did was turn and glare at Spike. For a moment she had an idea she knew what it felt like to get staked, because that look just seemed to shoot through her. “I can’t, Buffy. Not with Connor’s life.”

“Connor’s life?” Buffy exploded. “ What about my life? Because you sure seem to like popping in when it suits you. I mean…. What, did you adopt him or something? Is that it? He’s not Cordelia’s, he’s not Wes’, is he yours?”

Angel blanched, his jaw dropping open, flinching back away from her.  It was Buffy’s turn to stare in disbelief at him, throwing her hands up in the air. She shook her head at his reaction, but it took a moment to sink in. “He is yours? How? Is that all? You didn’t….You couldn’t even…send a card?” She spread her hands, bewildered. “God…You….adopted a kid? Why?”  D’Hoffryn, still holding the baby pictures, glanced at them again, then at Angel, shrugged, and raised his hand. Everyone looked at him, and he hunched with embarrassment. “He’s, ah, he’s a really cute baby.”

Angel ran his hand through his hair, momentarily pleased, then shrank, at the circle of disapproving faces.

Spike gave a short bark of laughter at that. As they both turned and glared at him, he covered his mouth and cleared his throat. “Sorry, but…how Los Angeles of you. Isn’t adoption the big thing now? No stretch marks and all. Actually, that way I could believe it was Cordelia’s…” He coughed again as everybody glared at him. “Well, makes more sense than Granddad here adopting a human. He is human, isn’t he? It’s not like you were ever a good father anyway…What next?” He enquired cheekily. “Hair transplants? Yoga?”

Xander raised his hand. “Uh…You do realize, this makes my family look normal.” Everybody stared at him. “Sorry. But that’s never happened before.” Anya beamed at him.

Wes had been staring at the game board silently for quite some time, face flushed, almost embarrassed-looking. He bit his lower lip and looked up, his eyes firm and his mouth set. “Angel,” he said quietly. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“It’s none of your business, Wes.”

“Well, it’s not business, is it? We’re not talking about work, are we? Because if we were, I could discuss how I came to be your employer.”

“What would that prove, Wes?”

“Nothing, really, except that you’ve made some terrible mistakes, Angel.” Angel’s eyes bored into Wes’, but the slender Englishman didn’t blink. He raise his chin defiantly, and took a deep breath. “It’s not as if I don’t understand what a terrible strain this is upon all of us. But this…. ”

Buffy thought about it for a minute, then tried to interrupt. “Oh, Wes….” I just called a Watcher by his nickname, she thought.

“Please, Buffy, let me finish.” He smiled slightly at her, and nodded graciously in acknowledgement. It was so Watcher-like she had to smile herself. Once a Watcher,always a Watcher, she thought. He turned to Angel again. “The things we do, the things we see, take a terrible toll on us all. But…this really doesn’t have anything with Spike’s chip. Well, it might, but then we’d have to ask about your soul, too. Isn’t your soul supposed to accomplish the same thing as Spike’s chip?”

Angel stared at him ferociously, and after a moment, Spike slipped unobtrusively between him and Buffy, sought her eyes briefly, and then turned to face the older vampire. Angel didn’t say anything, though, and the silence was so complete that they could hear the clock ticking in the hallway. Xander let out an explosive breath, then gulped another one in and held it.

“It should.” Buffy said quietly.

“Then why didn’t it?” Wes asked quietly.

Buffy was left staring between Wesley, Angel, and Spike. Then, gradually, what Wes had said sunk in, and she turned and looked at Angel. It was several seconds before she could talk.  “It…What? It didn’t work? What? You have a soul, they don’t…they don’t…run out of….batteries…! What do you mean, it didn’t…?!”

Angel shrank away, leaning against the wall as if he was afraid of an ambush from behind. “Buffy---“

She was beyond speech, staring at him, and he knew enough to realize that it was going to be unpleasant when she remembered how to talk again. “It’s just that….” He gritted his teeth. “There was so much stuff going on, all last year. It didn’t happen over night. It all just crept up on me, and---and---I couldn’t talk about it.”

Buffy stared up at him, her eyes huge. Not going to say anything, she thought. Mom died; you came for the funeral and that was it. Was that when you disappeared? After Mom died?  Oh, God, she had lived on the memory his visit for months, using it to console herself, using it to keep her spirits up, what with Riley gone…. But somehow, she hadn’t called him. It had been so hectic all that year, with Dawn, and Mom, ---oh, and Spike, always around, always complicating things….She turned and looked at Spike, her expression unreadable.

“Angel,” Wes said reproachfully. “Why did you think that?” Angel shook his head impatiently, and Wes did the same.  “We were…always there.”

“It’s so easy for you to talk, Wes.” He said quietly. “It’s never been easy for me. Never. Who should I talk to? Who could possibly understand? I mean, is there a—a---group for vampires with souls? I mean, maybe if there were, I could…”  Wes sighed, very softly, flinching away from meeting Angel’s eyes. “What would I tell you? I know!” He looked around fiercely. “Yeah, I can put this all into words. Really. Because it wouldn’t any of you uncomfortable at all.” 

Angel cleared his throat nervously, and looked around. Wes cleared his throat as well, and visibly looked for tact, still not meeting the vampire’s eyes. “Angel….We were all your friends. No matter what.”

“Yeah, in that uneasy we’re-friends-with-a-vampire-who-might-go-evil soon way. It’s so relaxing.”

Wes shook his head again, disbelief coloring his face with wonder. “Is that what you think? Why would you think that?”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me everything is fine. Tell me you totally trust me now, and there’s no reason to be suspicious. I mean, aside from the fact that I fired all of you guys and….”

Everyone in the room looked up at Angel at the same moment. “Maybe they disapproved of you and Darla.” Spike said tightly. He caught Buffy’s twitch out of the corner of his eye, but decided not to distract himself with it. “A good influence there, mate. Maybe that was it.”

Angel ripped around with a snarl, but Spike surprised him by meeting him halfway. “Chip doesn’t work on vampires.” He said. “What does it say on your warranty?”

“I should have staked you when I had the chance.”

“Your idea of a chance is when you’ve got the good odds, you wanker.” Spike slouched away and leaned against the wall next to Buffy. “Don’t have them now, do you?”

Angel looked around and wound up looking at Wes. Wes stared back, trying to look encouraging. “You know,” Angel said desperately. “I came here to try and help.”

“Christ.” Spike said. “You came here because you’re pissed that Buffy---“

Angel snarled at him again, and Spike grinned, straightening up lazily and showing every tooth he had. “Why does it matter so much to you, anyway? You haven’t been keepin’ anybody here on the Christmas card list, even though it might have done some real good for some people. Would have been nice, you know.” Once again, he eased forward, as if the floor was mined, and he was afraid of hitting something that could explode. “Suppose you were too busy fighting the good fight, weren’t you? Helping the helpless and all?”

“Well, yeah, I guess the person I want to discuss morals with would be you, wouldn’t it, William.” Angel spat out. “Because a couple of years makes you think you’re a man, is that it?”

“No,” Spike said quietly, so that only Angel could hear. “She does.”

“So, uh, Angel,” Xander said.  “You adopted a kid?” He looked around, seeking support. “I mean, uh, why? What’s the big deal?” He shrugged, embarrassed to be the focus of so many eyes. “The kid’s human, right? So Spike can’t hurt him, if that’ s what you’re worried about. Besides, I don’t think Spike would want to, anyway. That was not a nice thing,” he assured Spike, as Spike’s expression gradually moved from puzzlement to full-out exasperation. “It’s just an observation. Kids aren’t fun to hurt, are they? So Spike wouldn’t…uh….” It occurred to him that Buffy, who had been in some kind of private reverie, had abruptly snapped out of it and was staring at him.”….wouldn’t, uh, hurt them.”

“No, they’re easy.” Anya observed matter-of-factly. “But no one’s tried it with Britney Spears yet.” She deflated with disappointment.

“Uh, hey!” Hallie waved one hand delicately.  “Justice Demon, here. Child abuse is not funny.”

“Unless it’s Mary Kate and--” Xander said. He suddenly found himself the focus of the sort of stares he thought he’d left behind in high school. “Oh, hell, never mind. But I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

“No, you’re not.” Spike said reluctantly. “If I wanted to hurt Angel, I could, and why go through the brat? I know the bloke’s got pretensions, but not even a vampire with his taste in clothes is going to get so deluded he thinks he can fool people into believing the kid’s really his. ‘f the kid was his, I could understand him feelin’ that nervous about it, I really can. But it’s not something you’d have to worry about, would you then? I’m kind of flattered you’d think so, but really, mate, there’s lots of people should be higher up on the list than me.” It gradually dawned on him that his little speech had not sounded quite as anti-something or other as it should have, and he glanced around to assess the reaction. Everyone looked rather blank. He shrugged. “Like I said, you’d only have to worry if it was your kid. Then I expect you’d have to give out numbers…” Buffy was eyeing him with an unreadable expression that he was afraid would turn out to mean: You’re sleeping on the couch.  There were far too many people looking at him. “Besides, how stupid do you have to be to figure out that two vampires can’t…”? Behind him, Buffy gave a little gasp, and straightened up abruptly from leaning against the wall.

“Imperfect happiness.” She stared at Angel, dazed, before turning to look at Spike. “What did you say?”

“About what? Oh.” He tried to remember what Dru had said. “Him and Darla.”

For the second time, Buffy was beyond speech. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at Angel, and it was like she was looking at him for the first time. She remembered, uneasily, having the same feeling about Spike, some time after he’d defied Glory, and it was the same sensation, but not in a good way. It was like her skin was electrified by his presence, but with Spike it was a good feeling. Now? She had goose bumps as her nerve endings realized things before her brain processed them. “Darla? Darla? Not that Darla, right? She’s dead. She’s…tacky.  She’s….She’s….I saw you stake her.”

“There were some people that brought her back.” Angel said quietly. “As a human.”

Buffy gulped for air, then steadied herself. “Oh, and do you think you could have told me? I mean, how many times did she try to kill me? And how many times did she try to kill me before you finally killed her?  Might have been nice to know somebody else who wanted to kill me was back. I mean, I like to keep a list. Even if she’s human, she could still, like, get a gun and make me follow her fashion advice. What else is there? I mean, you didn’t mention her, what else did you …miss?”

“ Well….” Angel took a deep breath. “She’s not…she wasn’t…human long. She, um….Well…when she was turned,  originally,  she was ill with syphilis. When they brought her back, she still had it. It was killing her.” His voice was a monotone, colorless and practically without inflection.

“Did it?” Buffy snapped.

“Did it what?”

“Did it kill her?”  

“No.” Angel took a deep breath again. “So they found Dru and Dru turned her back.”

Everyone stared at him. “So, yes, that was my stressful year.” He said bitterly. He shot a look at Buffy.

Spike grinned at him. “Why stop there, mate? Isn’t there more?”

Angel looked from Buffy’s face to Spike’s, and had to look away. “I didn’t come back after you died, because I’ve already lost you so many times already. I’ve lost count. Everybody’s gone. Everybody. I outlived them all, and with you…it was three times, over and over again. It never gets easier to watch, Buffy. Knowing I can’t do anything, can’t stop you from doing the things that will get you killed?” He rounded bitterly on Spike. “Darla was somebody I thought wouldn’t die, but she did. I was just so happy to have her back.” The two vampires stared at one another. “See how you like it, when you have to live without somebody, when you have to watch them die.”

Spike glared back. “I already have,” he icily. “Oh, that’s right, you weren’t here to see it. Guess you were suffering, though---when there were witnesses.” Angel looked away, from both Buffy and Spike, but Buffy never looked away. Everyone else was staring uncomfortably elsewhere, but Buffy could not take her eyes off his face. Well, there’sanother uncomfortable silence, she thought.

“Come on,” she said suddenly. She reached out and grabbed his hand, and although a muscle in Spike’s jaw tightened, he stepped back.  She yanked Angel with her out the front door, leaving Spike staring at the front door as it slammed behind them.

Buffy leaned against the railing and looked up at Angel, who leaned against the front door and gave no indication of going any further onto the porch. He doesn’t even want to get close tome, she thought. “All right. You had a bad year, and I had an…awful year. We could have helped each other, but we didn’t.” She was startled, then, by the tears that flooded her eyes. Thought they were all gone, she thought. Hoped I’d used them all up.

Angel swallowed. “I thought you had Riley.”

“Yeah, so did I.”

“What happened there?”

“Well, the Slayer thing was…too much for him. He didn’t feel like I needed him. And you were a factor.”

“I—was? I was?”

“You sure don’t sound upset.”

“I didn’t like him.”

“I’m trying to be mature here.”

“Then why Spike? Why? Why him?”

Why Spike what? She thought, but that was just an automatic response. “How do I answer that, when I don’t even know what it is myself?”  He’s different from you, she thought. Is that it? I always know what he’s thinking, whether I want to or not.  He sure doesn’t agree with me, but he never goes and does shit for my own good---unless I’mdead at the time. She looked at him closely as another thought occurred to her. Yeah, when he does stuff for my own good…it is for my own good. He sure didn’t tell me aboutwatching Dawn and fighting with the gang. The first thing he did tell me was how he’d screwed up trying to save Dawn. How come you weren’t helping? How come I can’teven say this stuff? Something in her balked at justifying Spike to Angel, trying to describe the formless intimacy they had, the way he seemed to understand her in ways she didn’t even understand herself, irritating thought it was.  And I’m not explaining Spike to Angel when he’s not exactly gushing out his Darla explanation and all, came a resentful thought.  Especially then.Especially then.   “I can’t lie to him,” she said quietly. “He won’t let me. So maybe it just gets harder and harder to lie to…myself… and to other people. Like…No matter how painful it gets. Angel, Angel, you…you…get so uncomfortable with stuff that you take off. You don’t finish stuff. ” Of course, Spike never lets stuff go, she thought, so talk about reacting to that tendency by going off and picking the opposite extreme.  “You just leave. Maybe it’s not…like, you leave the vicinity, you know, but you just sort of take yourself out. Away.  You just escape. You should have called me.”

“And told you what?  ‘Oh, hi, sorry to interrupt you with something else you need to worry about, along with Joyce dying, and a God being in town….but guess what? I’ve finally reached the end of my two-hundred-year-old tether, and I’m about to explode.’ ” There was a great deal of desperation in his eyes when he looked back at her. “Maybe I’ll go evil again. That’s just what everyone is waiting for, anyway. Why don’t I just shorten the wait?”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Buffy said quietly, certain. She was startled when he laughed bitterly.

“You’re so sure, aren’t you? Which is nice, because I’m not. I’m not at all.” He cocked his head at her, a gesture eerily reminiscent of Spike’s, except on him it was not quizzical, it was almost threatening.  The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. Am I afraid of him?  “Why are you so certain I won’t go bad?” He asked quietly.

“Well, uh, you’re good…” He stared into her eyes, and she flushed. “Well, then there’s the other thing…”

“The other thing?” He stepped forward and grabbed her by the upper arms. “The other thing? Oh, the other thing?! This thing?” And with that, he kissed her, hard. Almost before it started, it was gone. He was back, rigid against the door, hands jammed in coat pockets. “That thing? That thing that makes me go all evil? That thing that you don’t have to worry about with Spike? Tell me, Buffy, have you told your friends about Spike? All of them?  Sat them down and told them all the details? Called Giles?”

She lifted one hand and slowly brushed it across her lips. He really did that, he really just did it like that. All the times he kissed me, and he did it like that….

“Why should I? You haven’t told me about Darla.” She squared her shoulders. “I will if you will.”  He’ll never go for it.

“Great. Just great.”

“You said it, yourself.”

“Okay, then. Here goes. Truth or dare.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t adopt Connor.”

“O…kay.” Buffy deflated slightly, having been waiting for something…significant.

“He’s mine.”

“He’s…yours?”

“Mine. Mine and Darla’s.”

Buffy didn’t even try to conceal her amazement. ”Yours. And Darla’s. Yours. Yours? Yours and Darla’s?”  Okay, this is significant.   

He shrugged, almost modestly. “Some sort of prophecy.” She tried to decide how much of it was masculine pride at fatherhood, and how much of it was the experienced humility of someone long accustomed to being special.

“Two vampires…have a baby Two vampires and a baby. It sounds like a sitcom.” She kept shaking her head.  Guess I better start using birth control after all.  Between headshakes, she stared up at him. “You have a baby…You have a baby!…with a vampire!….and you’re still angry about me and Spike?”

He had been jittery with tension, but now it abruptly drained away, leaving him slumped against the door. “Darla was….someone familiar to me. Someone safe. I thought. Someone who could live forever, and not…. You’re not safe for me, or anyone else. And Darla…she couldn’t…give birth. Not normal. She killed herself for him. So he could live. And you know what?” He blinked at the floor of the porch. “I never thought I could be a father…but…I wished….I wished…” He swallowed tightly. “ I was so isolated. I was so lonely. I should be grateful just for this, but you…I wished it was you.”

Is this what it feels like when people betray you? All the little ones and now this? She thought. She couldn’t even form complete thoughts. Darla? Darla and him?  Darla? She tried to kill me. So did Spike, but that’s different. She tried to kill me. He didn’t even think of that, did he? Someone familiar? In the sense that you romped across Europe, killing people for hundreds of years, and that she kept trying to lure you back? But what….You got lonely? Lonely? Why on earth wouldn’t I want to know? Lonely? You were lonely?! I got lonely! Read a book!  She shook her head at him, almost more disappointed than angry. You let it get bad, she thought, so you have an excuse to explode. There’s always an excuse. Leaving? You had an excuse, but I didn’t want you to. But there was an excuse.

She saw Spike’s face as he first realized it was her, back from the grave. What would Angel have done? And why wasn’t he there? Realization hit her. He was busy with other things. Well, if those things were so important, more important than her, then she wasn’t significant enough to be this angry over, either. Darla. She shook her head again, almost amused, in a ghastly I-won’t-be-bitter way.

She stared up at him, eyes wide and stunned. “It was Darla. Wonderful…but…. Darla? And, oh, what, the fact that she tried to kill me over and over just didn’t seem to be a big thing when you were lonely?”

“Spike tried to kill me, too, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re a vampire, Angel. I’m human. Darla could do stuff to me that Spike couldn’t do to you.” Like choose my outfits, she thought. God, do not laugh. I must not laugh..

“I shouldn’t have told you.”

“No, you should have told me a LONG TIME AGO! Do you think I’d be this pissed off if I’d heard this a bit at a time, instead of all at once? Darla!” She paced away from him now, waving her hands in the air, not even aware of having moved.  “But if you had, you wouldn’t have felt lonely enough or whatever enough to give you an excuse to go---do that! If you had called me, I could have come down and we could have talked, instead of you just getting worse and worse…and doing what you wanted. You wanted to, I know it.  I would have,” she added forlornly. “If you needed me, I would have come right away.”

“Yeah, look what happened last time.”

“I’m sorry Spike followed Oz that time, but don’t even try to tell me you’re pissed about me giving you the Gem of---What?” He glanced away, avoiding her eyes, and she stepped back into his line of vision. “What? What can you possibly find wrong with that?”

“There was the other thing.”

“What other---oh, that.”  Thanksgiving. “You know, you were the one sneaking around then, why couldn’t you have just told me, okay? It was too painful for you, but I would have liked to see you. I had to go all the way to LA to see you. You think I came just to chew you out? I just..”  She spread her hands out in appeal. “I just wanted to see you again. That’s all. You didn’t seem too happy about seeing me, though.”

He swallowed and looked down.

“Angel, maybe the reason it’s so painful is because you just never deal with it. You know, you came up here, and you snuck around, but we could have just talked. It just gets bigger and bigger, and then, boom! I mean, I’m not Chatty Cathy, but….” She rolled her eyes at the heavens, as if appealing for divine intervention, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact they were on the porch, and she was looking at the porch light.

Angel looked down at the floorboards. “Buffy, I don’t want to deal with it, okay? You do, but I don’t. There’s too much. People use it against me.  I have a lot more to deal with, you know? And I dealt with it badly, I know that…”

Maybe they should use it against you, she thought. No. I didn’t just think that, didn’t happen. Did not do that. Did not think that.

“You have to deal with it!” She exclaimed. “You have to! You can’t just sulk, you have to get up and deal with it. If you don’t deal with it, then I have to, and everybody else has to. It’s hard enough for me now, Angel. I mean, I’ll help you, but I have to know it’s coming. It’s not easy for me, either. All I need is some..preparation. You see what I mean. Spread it out or something. You can’t just spring it on me.” She stared furiously at her toes for a minute. “How old is Connor?”

“Seven weeks.”

Her lips tightened, and she whirled around and faced the street.

Behind her, he stared at her back, more confused than he’d ever been in two and a half centuries. That’s why nobody wants to be good, he thought. You have to think all the time. All you have to do when you’re evil is not think.

She turned back and looked at him. “You’re really pissed off at me, aren’t you?”

“What? About Spike…” He flinched from her glare, studying his shoes. “About that, yes.”

“Well, do I have to start the whole thing about Darla, then? But anyway, why are you so pissed? I was asking you that before, and you never told me.”

“I’m not…”

“Yeah, you are.”

“No, I’m not, except for Spike.”

“Well, I’m pissed about Darla.” She said quietly. “So we’re even.” He finally lifted his eyes. “I’m probably never going to have a baby, you know that, right?”

“Why? Because….”

“I’m a Slayer, Angel, not a superhero. Not a vampire with a soul. Us Slayers, we’re expendable. I’m not special.  I’m…just temporary. There’s no significance to me, except maybe in the footnotes. When I die permanently, somebody will take my place. You can live forever, but I can’t. I could get pregnant, but a pregnant Slayer? It could get me killed. How would I even know I’d live long enough to even have the baby? So, no, no babies for me. No future, either, really. All I have is now. You have forever.”  She glared at him again. “So I don’t have time to waste with people who won’t try. So try, Angel. Because this is the last chance you’ll get.”

Crickets chirped in the yard. From a distance, they could hear the sound of a fire engine. The leaves rustled in the trees. 

He spread his hands helplessly.

“That’s not trying.”

He sighed and looked up the same way she had. A car drove by on the street. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“It’s just that…I would like it if I didn’t still love you.” He said quietly. “It would be so nice if I didn’t feel this way. I’m not…a good person. Not good enough to be good, even when I try as hard as I can. But I’m really good at being bad. Everything I do… I was a rotten human being, too.” She was frowning at him, he saw, and he rushed on ahead.

“When you and I were together…” He swallowed and looked away. She saw that, and that hurt her. Look at me, she thought. Show me what it is that you feel. Why are you hiding this from me?

“When you and I were together….I felt good. I felt like I understood why people want to be good, not because they get credit for it, but because it makes it easier for somebody they love. I felt human. I felt like…I didn’t have to be perfect. I remember everything.” He said softly. “Everything about you…Everything I can’t be around anymore, because it hurts to be near you and know what the consequences are. All I want to do now is forget. I don’t want to remember you, Buffy, but I do. Every day I do. I used Darla. I know that. And maybe I used you, too. But I used you to make me happy. You made me happy for a while. I’ve never felt that way before. I don’t think I will again. That’s why I don’t want to remember. That’s why I wasn’t here. Being with you made me better, but….being away from you makes me…..I…” He shrugged uncomfortably. “Maybe I’m mad you’re happy without me. It’s just that…Darla was all there is for me. I can’t be around you, Buffy.  We shouldn’t have gotten involved. I should have…You made me want all the things I can’t have. I didn’t even imagine them before you. Now I do. Every day.  And they’re not possible, because I know what could happen. That’s all there is to it.”

She tried to forget what it felt like to be dead, but she did remember effortlessly the first shocking moment back, the first breath drawn, the first glimpse of light. She remembered her first kiss, and her first love. Despite everything, she couldn’t find it in her heart to regret loving him, because how could she have known what would happen? And now…Oh, God, this is over, she thought. It’s all changed for me, he changed it. I can’t go back.

“Are you…sorry?” She whispered. “Are you sorry we…?”

Angel looked into her eyes, finally. She tried to see what he was thinking, something she always thought she could do. “Buffy….” He said. “I can’t be around you. You make me…think all kinds of things. I remember you every day, Buffy. Every day. But….”

She stared up at him, and it seemed that everything that happened over the past year telescoped and hit her all at once. There had been pressure everywhere, and one of the few bright spots had been his presence at the funeral.  With Mom gone, Glory on the rampage, she had clung to Giles and the Scoobies, and the pure memory of him. Now he was lost to her, taking his memory with him.  “Oh, God, Angel…Just don’t…” It wasn’t so much distance she crossed as time, wiping away a year, and winding up as she had so many times before, crying on his coat front, quietly and hard, the way strong people always did. She was seventeen again, and Angel was potential in her arms, not regret. They had kissed at her mother’s grave side, and now she wondered if she had pushed him.  What did he do afterward? She thought, but it flashed away and vanished.

The funny thing about crying storms was that they were like those weird summer showers than erupted suddenly and vanished just as fast. Crying was supposed to make you feel better, because it got rid of all the tension. Bullshit, she thought. Nothing erases all the tension of this. She lifted her head and looked up and he looked down. She sniffled, and stepped back, adulthood restored, to find herself eyeing a hankie that Angel had produced from some pocket. She took it ruefully, blew her nose, and then realized that she had no idea what was the polite thing to do. Nothing like realizing that youneeded to maintain distance from your ex to protect you both, she thought. Yay for maturity.

When in doubt, retreat. She stepped further back, then smacked him. “You could have avoided all this, just by sending out an announcement!” Distance restored, she retreated further. “Cards and letters are your friends, you know?”

“Yeah, well, this is one of those situations where Spike is actually right.” He shoved his hands even further into his pockets and tried to grin at her. It looked like someone had pasted the expression on his face.  “If I should take out an announcement about anything, it’s that.” I get my wish, he thought. Now we get to pretend to be friendly exes. I get to go away. 

“Yeah, well,” Buffy muttered, “It looks like both of us are going to have to make announcements, aren’t we?”

“Are we?”

“Yes, we are.” She took a deep breath, that, dammit, did not tremble at all. “Because, you know, I just kind of thought of something.” She glared up at him briefly. “Now you told me, and---and----I have to tell them, don’t I? Of course,” she added, “you have to tell them, too. Fair’s fair.”

D’Hoffryn had just scored a particularly triumphant hotel sweep when Spike cleared his throat. Loudly. It was so loud, and so fake, that slowly, everyone’s eyes paused on the Monopoly board and then in tiny increments looked up. Angel and Buffy had crept back into the house, Buffy with her hands jammed in her back pockets, and Angel with his crossed in front of his crotch, the look of a man who subconsciously feared an all-too-immanent kick in the crotch.  From the discomfort displayed by both of them, it looked as if he might have good reason for that fear.  Buffy looked as if she’d just received a shock, and Angel had the pained look of a man who’d  expected to deliver one and might have gotten one himself.

Five expectant faces stared up at them. Spike stared at the ground, and scuffed around with one boot, as if drawing patterns in non-existent dirt.

“Okay, I give up.” Xander said. “This is not good, this silent stuff. What is it, another apocalypse?”

“Well.” Buffy said.

“Well,” Angel said faintly.

“You know...”

“Yeah.” Angel sighed.

“Uh...”Buffy swallowed and looked at the ground, just as Spike finally looked up. Finding her looking down, he swallowed, too, and then went back to staring at the floor.   “Angel and I were catching up.” She said firmly. Too firmly.  “A lot of water...Uh. Under the bridge.”

“Yeah.” Angel agreed. “A lot. Better than over the...Uh. Bridge.  Well, anyway....”

“Well, and there’s some stuff we got caught up on...”

“Oh.” Anya said briskly. “Like the whole year?”

“Yes, the whole year.” Buffy said gratefully. “And the...baby.” At that, Angel jerked as if he’d been jabbed with a cattle prod. Buffy cast a suspicious glance at Spike, but he had the virtuous look of a vampire who’d never told a lie about laundry in his life.  

“Yeah.” Angel said. “Not to mention the whole....inappropriate love life.”

Spike perked up and raised his eyebrows at Buffy. “Well,” Buffy said. “I guess everybody’s got a lot to talk about, then, don’t we?”

Angel regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment. “Some more than others.”

Buffy stared at him and slowly and surely, felt adrenalin cook through her veins. “Yeah, Angel, I guess there’s some lessons nobody ever learns, right? I mean, what have I got to fall back on? Should I try and pick some nice guy? I did that three times and they all turned evil. Well, maybe not evil, but....not nice.” How scary is it when a vampire starts acting human, and it means he stops returning your calls and dumps you?  She thought. Some vampires, she amended, glancing at Spike. With a mental shake, she returned to the subject at hand. “Then I picked the evil guy and he turned nice. All you did was trade up to somebody who’s temporarily human. Oh, yeah, and she tried to kill me a bunch of times and you didn’t care! And,” she muttered, “she dressed like a schoolgirl. A tacky schoolgirl.Ugh. Lolita much?”

“She’s not the only person who tried to kill you,” Angel said, starting to get mad. It’s different, he thought, not quite sure how, but certain that it was. I bet there’s a prophecy about it.   “But I guess it’s only okay if it’s....“

“Yeah, Spike’s tried to kill Buffy a whole bunch of...”Xander said happily, then stopped as if he’d slapped up against a big brick wall. “Okay, why am I disliking this conversation all of a sudden?”

“Because it’s boring?” D’Hoffryn muttered. “Because neither one will---“  Buffy, Spike, and Angel all glared at him. “Sorry, but you... you....humans. Look at that friend of yours who’s a witch. She didn’t have any determination. She would have made such a great vengeance demon. Such unhappiness, such anger, and she tossed it all away on you guys! What a waste!  Do you know what it’s like, hanging around, waiting to see if you guys are going to do anything to one another? And then....no follow through. Or you go after some poor demon----“ He glanced mournfully at Hallie, who tried to look pitiful, but spoiled it by glancing up demurely to see if people were looking at her.”----who was just minding their own business. Really, it’s....” He shook his head, not so much disgusted as just disappointed. “It’s very disturbing.”

“Well, we’re human.” Buffy said stiffly. “We do things like that.”

“Buffy....” Xander said slowly. He looked at her, then at Spike, who leaned against the wall behind her. Despite the relaxed pose, the vampire was anything but calm and Xander could practically see the air vibrating between them.  Spike stared at her whenever she wasn’t looking at him. But she was looking at him---when he wasn’t looking at her. Nothing unusual there, was there? Xander thought, but in fact, it was slowly dawning on him that there was something unusual about it. Buffy had never used to look at Spike, at least during the whole tense period after the Revelation of his crush on her. But that was last year, he thought queasily.  She’d gone off to his crypt after the whole Buffybot thing, all set on staking him, came home in a tight-lipped snit, and then had stalked back with bandages. No explanation for that turnaround. She’d never told anybody exactly what had happened. But after that, for the longest time, till she died, he thought, she hadn’t looked at Spike directly, but sideways, or out of the corner of her eye. Business as usual, he thought, but no, it wasn’t. What made it notable was that he’d noticed it, somehow, noticed that it was odd for them to be avoiding each other’s eyes all of a sudden. When did that happen?

Come to think of it....he thought. He tried to remember what it had been like after she came back, right after she came back. She’d been so distant, so dazed. It was like she’d been in a dark place forever and the sudden bright light hurt her eyes. Where had Spike been during all this?

Think, brain, think.

The very first night, they’d come from her grave to find Spike sitting across from her in the living room, holding her hands like they would break. And then, afterward, they had found him outside, the same as always, under the tree, but crying. He’d never been able to put into words the feeling of disgust and pity that had swamped over him at the time. A vampire, crying, for the Slayer.  Too complicated for me. Definitely do not want to feel sorry for William the Bloody.

Of course, that was bad news. It meant Spike was obsessed again. Good old Spike, who you could tolerate, sort of,  like the one person in school who was more unpopular than you were, and who was so damned grateful if anybody treated them nice at all. He liked that type of gratitude, didn’t want to see it end.  Sort of like the way he himself had treated Jonathon. But the problem with Good Old Spike became apparent when Buffy came back, and she was so weak and quiet....and in Spike’s company. .And why would anybody find the company of a vampire so attractive? Wasn’t he a reminder of where she’d been? Who would want to remember hell? If she’d been in darkness, why would she associate with a creature of it?

The dancing demon, he thought. Of course, omit entirely, the whole cause of the dancing demon, and what you were left with was that peculiar feeling of something going on just out of sight, just out of hearing.  That was it. The way she’d spoken to Spike in the Magic Box.... “You said you didn’t want to see me....”

He could feel the blood draining out of his body. Seeing her. Oh, God. Think, think. Why did that make his stomach shrivel up into a raisin? What am I even thinking about? Buffy would never.... An image came to his brain, and he furiously shoved it away, of a sheet-clad Spike, and a tomb that looked like a tornado had hit it. Nope, not gonna go there.  I’m seeing things; that’s it. Hell, I’m even hearing things. What did Buffy just say?

   “You...ah....You said three guys. Three.” He held up three fingers and laughed nervously.  “I mean, we all know that Parker had a dual personality, but you’re counting both of them now? Did you give the other one a name.....?”

Buffy turned a bright red and stared at the coffee table for courage.  Oh, God, here it comes. I am so not ready for this. Yes, I am. No, I’m not. Oh, boy. Oh, God. No, I can do this. I can do this.  I’ve died twice, what could be worse? Being friendless, that’s what. Even great sex all the... She glanced up at Spike for a moment, not even aware she was seeking his encouragement, which he gave her with a tight nod. I can do this. I can do this.  Xander saw that and blanched white, that fast bright look flashing between them, making him wonder what he’d been missing. After a long pause, Buffy turned her eyes from Spike to Xander, looking at him for a long, steady moment before replying. You stayed with me this long, she thought. Don’t stop being my friend now.  “Angel, Parker, Riley.” She said quietly. “People...men...who tried to be good. Well, except for Parker. He was a jerk.  But they weren’t good for me. Or maybe I wasn’t good for them.”

“You said.” There was a shrill note in his voice now. “Three good guys and one...”

“I should have said something earlier.”

“Said something? About what?! About what?”

Buffy took a deep breath. “About Spike.  About Spike...and me.”

Xander blinked several times, turned even paler, and fainted.



“Did I hit my head on something?”

“No, sweetie, I was right here and I caught you.”

“What happened?”

“You fainted.”

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did, honey, you turned white, and your eyes rolled up, and then you went...”

“Oh, God, it must have been a hallucination.”

“About what?”

“I dreamed Buffy said...”

“Oh, that wasn’t a dream.” Anya said. “Buffy’s boinking Spike.”

“Oh, God, somebody please hit me over the head.”

He was still extremely light-headed, lying flat on his back with an afghan tossed over him, and he seemed to feel extraordinarily cold.

“Anya.” Buffy said firmly.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” Anya said agreeably. “Buffy and I already discussed this but I forgot. I’m not supposed to use the word boink about her and Spike.”

“Oh,God. Oh, God. Can I trade this for syphilis? Syphilis is so much less painful.”

“And it’s curable.” Anya pointed out. “Penicillin and all that. It didn’t use to be. It used to be one of my best attention-getters.”

“An...you and Buffy talked?About this? You talked already? Her and...?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Well, Buffy asked me not to, which I understand now, because you’re not reacting well. Neither is Angel, either. Maybe men shouldn’t be allowed to discuss this type of thing.”

“Angel’s a vampire.”

“Well, not really...”

“Hey...”Angel snapped.

“Buffy?”

“Yes?”

“You told Anya, but you wouldn’t tell me?”

She hesitated such a long time that he had time to wonder about her state of mind. “I was afraid you’d react the way you ....are.”

“Well, of course I....” Xander glanced unwillingly at Angel. “You think I’d be glad about it? He’s a vampire.”

“People change,” she said quietly. “Spike changed. So did I.”

“You haven’t changed.” He said weakly. “You’re human. He hasn’t changed. He’s a vampire.”

“He’s changed.”

“Yeah, because of the chip.”

“The chip didn’t make him watch Dawn all summer when I was gone.”

“The chip didn’t make him try and get in your....Sorry.”

“The chip isn’t the problem, is it Xander?” She threw up her hands in exasperation, and noticed Angel flinch back slightly out of the corner of her eye. “You know, it just seems kind of unfair that everybody wants to interfere in my life, but nobody wants to interfere in, like, a helpful way. You want to interfere? Interfere with my job or my bills.  Nobody does that.”

“I need to sit down,” he said breathlessly.

“You are sitting down.” Anya pointed out. “Well, sort of.”  

“Then I need to lie down.”

“You are lying down. Look at the bright side; at least she’s a Slayer; I bet she wins all the arguments.” She didn’t notice Buffy’s flinch at that.

“You and Spike...”

Buffy took a deep breath. “Me and Spike.” She checked the others’ reactions. Lorne was beaming at her, Hallie looked a little miffed that everyone was now staring at Buffy, and Wes had removed his glasses and was polishing  them with his shirt tail. That must be the first thing they teach them in Watcher School, Buffy thought. D’Hoffryn stared down at the Monopoly board with great glumness, and Anya patted Xander. She looked pointedly at Anya, but when she repeated her earlier statement, her voice was gentle. “People do change.”

“People change,” Xander said in a thin voice, “but Spike’s not a people.”

“Hey.” Spike snapped. “Try and at least be interesting about it.” But his heart wasn’t in it. The good guys all turned evil and the evil one turned good, he thought.  “You’re one to talk, Harris, dating the ex-demon and all.”

“The key word there is ex.” Xander pointed out.

“Yeah, well, there’s this chip..”

“What happens when the chip fails then?”

“What happens when it doesn’t?” Spike said disgustedly. “Oh, that’s right, that bloody doesn’t matter, because whether it’s the chip or it’s me or it’s just the fact you’re too far below my standards to eat,  you’re going to treat me the same no matter what. And demon girl was a demon a lot longer than I’ve been a vampire. Where’s her chip?”

Xander stared at him, words coming to his lips automatically. “That’s...different.”

“Yeah, it’s different.” Spike snapped, and Xander struggled to sit up. “It’s different because it’s you and your girlfriend.” Then Buffy stepped forward and gave them both a look, laying a hand on Spike’s chest that seemed to stay there far too long.  

“God, do we need to have a study hall or something so you guys remember what I said? And I’m feeding you, too. Those were supposed to last all week.”  Buffy gestured at all the snacks covering the table. “And you know what? You guys are cleaning all this up. And you’re doing the dishes, too.” She crossed her arms and tried to look firm. A little yelling was something she could handle; she was surprised it wasn’t worse than that.

“Well, I don’t have a chip because I’m not a demon any longer,” Anya pointed out helpfully. “Although I supposed those soldiers would have given me one if they’d have caught me.”

“That’s different, sweetie.”

“Well, no,” She sighed. “There used to be fairy tales about me. Of course, now there’s fairy tales about those soldiers. If you’re a demon, that is.” She looked around. “I liked it better the other way around, when I scared people, although now I scare shoplifters, so it’s not totally different. What?” She looked at Xander. “That’s something at least.”

Spike stared at her, then at Xander. “Explain something to me, Harris, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

“Well, maybe someone can.”

Buffy turned and looked at him. Angel had slumped into a chair and was staring at the floor in the exact same pose as D’Hoffryn, both with one palm supporting their chin, raising only their eyes to whoever was speaking. “What?” Buffy mouthed at him.

 “Well, demon girl was a demon how many years? How many centuries?”

Anya beamed at him. If she had a photo album,  Buffy thought, she’d be whipping it out right about now. This is how I spent my last eleven hundred summers, torturing men.   “It was about eleven centuries,” Anya said brightly. “But you have to take into account leap years.”

“So if you put me and Sunshine here together, we haven’t been around even half as long as you were, right?”

“Nope, you two are novices.” Anya said happily. Somebody who spoke her language! Even though Xander was white a sheet, he was getting that tight-around-the-lips look he got when she brought up her demon past. “Really, there’s a big stylistic difference in killing as opposed to, oh, I don’t know, maiming, wounding, slow lingering deaths. It’s sort of like comparing fast food to a gourmet meal. I mean, no offense, but you two really do it the quick and easy way. I bet you guys use microwave blood, too.” At this, both Angel and Spike hung their heads a moment in embarrassment. “ It’s just that fast food mentality, it’s done away with the artistry of killing.  I bet you’ve never done research at all.” She rolled her eyes. “I could certainly show you a thing or...” Xander cleared his throat, and put his hand on her arm, but Anya shook her head impatiently. “Now, Xander, I was a demon for a long time, you can’t expect me to pretend it didn’t happen. I mean, I need something to talk about in my old age.”

“No, of course not, why explain anything to me?” Spike answered for him, completely ignoring Anya. “But what I bloody want to know is this. How come Soul Boy here and Demon Girl get a free pass without so much as liftin’ a bleedin’ finger----him and that curse, and her with whatever it was, I never did get the memo.  I don’t even know what you bloody people want, actually. But nothin’ I do gets me any recognition at all, nothing whatsoever.  Explain that to me. Think I wanted this bloody chip? Think I wanted my life, er, unlife, turned upside down? But I make the best of it, I try to change with the times, and none of you so much as bloody notice. Why? ”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Xander said. “That’s ever so easy. Because you’re evil.  You might have a chip, but you’re still evil and the minute that chip comes out you’ll go after all of us, like you’ve done before.”

“What makes you think if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have found a way to before now, you git?”

“You never found a way to, before.” Xander blurted out, then looked confused. “Okay, that was supposed to sound way more critical.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Buffy raised a hand. “Can somebody correct me if I’m wrong a minute here?”

Everyone looked expectantly at her. “Well, number one, there’s me, a Slayer, dating a vampire. Who loves me. Who stayed with me, even when I was dead. Who didn’t leave.” She added pointedly, but her back was to Angel, so she couldn’t see him stiffen. “Then there’s, uh, Xander, who is dating an ex demon, who was a demon a lot longer than Spike was a vampire. And of course, there’s Angel.”

“What about Angel?” Xander asked curiously. “Seems like he’s the most, well, normal one of all.”  He tossed a pointed glance in Spike’s direction. “Doesn’t kill people, has a kid...”

“Call the hairdresser,” Spike muttered.

There is a God, because my sex life is no longer the topic of discussion, Buffy thought.

Angel’s is.

“Uh, what?”  In his chair, Angel’s eyes widened suddenly as everyone swiveled around to look at him.

“Oh, I forgot Willow.” Buffy said, reprieving him briefly. “She dated a werewolf. But anyway, go ahead, Angel.”

Even Xander perked up a bit at the prospect of some Angel gossip, even though he knew, guiltily, that he wasn’t supposed to dislike Angel anymore. However, Buffy had been very unhappy with the way he’d taken off like that, so he felt entitled to some situational dislike. Especially seeing as how this conversation didn’t seem to be going anywhere good at all.

“Well.” Angel looked at the coffee table, too. “Darla...”

“Excuse me, who’s Darla?” Xander asked.

“Blonde vampire from a couple of years ago,” Buffy muttered, as if whispering in class.

“Uh, Buff, lots of blond vampires. Darla?”

“Jesse.” Buffy said softly. “She turned Jesse.” She’d saved a lot of lives, but it was the ones she’d lost that she remembered.

 “Jesse.” Xander said quietly. He was seventeen again, and dealing with the reality that there could in fact be monsters in his closet, when he had only just gotten over convincing himself that there weren’t. Ah, yes, Sunnydale, where all the fairytales are by the brothers very very Grimm.  Now I’m going to have to think about all the other people who vampires got before Buffy came here. “But Angel staked her, so why are we talking about her? Setting up a dental college fund or something in her memory or what?”

“Or what,” Buffy said dryly. “ She was, ah, I guess, she ah, made Angel a vampire, and she was, oh, about four hundred years old. She tried to kill me, too, with guns, well, at least once, and then Angel staked her.”

“But----“and here Xander swallowed and tried to find his funny voice, “she bit the dust, right? Another one bit the du---oh, never mind.”

“Wolfram and Hart brought her back.” Angel said. His voice had the monotonous tone of a man who was reciting something he could barely think about, much less speak of. “As a human.”

“Oh.” Why Darla and why not Jesse, huh?Or Jenny? Why not Jenny? Why don’t they ever bring back people like Jenny? What if Spike...?  He glanced nervously at Spike, who of course noticed it instantly.

“Stop it, Harris, or I’ll go all shy.”

“Would you?” Xander retorted. “Would you leave then?”

Buffy gave Xander Joyce’s Mom Eye Roll, then Spike. “I’m starting to think Anya is right. Maybe we just shouldn’t allow you guys to discuss this type of thing. Well, at least not until after Angel’s done. Go on.”

“Well...” Angel shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Too many faces were looking at him. “And...” He shifted again. “I can’t explain it.”

I don’t even care if you can explain it, Buffy thought. But I tried and you have to try, too, dammit. In front of people.

“Darla was human.” Angel said quietly. “For a while. Wolfram and Hart wanted to use her against me.”

“Uh..who are they?” Xander asked.

“Huge law firm in LA.” Wes said. “They’re quite evil.” He glanced down. “They had some doings with Faith, when she was in LA.”

“Did she kill one of them?” Buffy asked, then shrugged before he could answer. ”Don’t know who to root for, there.”

“Uh...” Wes blinked at her for a moment. “Sorry, I simply don’t know.”

“ ‘s okay. Go on, Angel.” Buffy nodded at Angel.

“Well...”

“Wait...” Xander said. “You mean, she didn’t get, like, you know,  offed right away?”
  “No,” Angel said uncomfortably.

“No?” Xander repeated. “No? No? Why not?” He took a deep breath to settle himself and found that it didn’t work at all.  He glanced up at Buffy, not sure how much he could say about Angel in front of her. Then he turned, shaking his head at Angel and himself, both.  Did you and Darla have a lot of catching up to do? Wanted to reminisce about old times? Different methods of trying to kill Buffy?  How to really drive her nuts?

“It’s complicated,” Angel said. “It’s really complicated.”

“We’re all complicated!” Xander exclaimed in frustration. “But....” He ran into that brick wall again. Oh, God, he thought. Oh, God. She was your sire or whatever it is or whoever it is that makes you a vampire, and you...? You definitely didn’t kill her. Did she know you went all Angelus on us for a while there? How could you not..?

“She was human,” Angel said helplessly.

“Well, so, she gets a Get Out of Hell card automatically? She killed my best friend! She turned him into....”  He glanced at Spike.

“Hey.” Spike snapped. “That is different, I’ll have you know.”

“How?”

“Angelus was the one always turnin’ things right and left.” Spike said. “Me, I just wanted...lunch.”

Silence thumped down on the room.

A car glided by outside, and from somewhere else they heard another car horn honk.

“So......what happened, Angel?” Xander prodded.

“Well...” Angel sighed. He looked around the room. D’Hoffryn was looking up, only his eyes following the conversation, while Wes and Hallie politely waited for him to start speaking again. Lorne was idly buffing his nails on his blazer, then blowing on them. Spike, lounging against the wall by the stairs, was out of his vision, but he could practically feel the other vampire’s eyes boring twin  holes into him. He took a deep breath to stall and found that he still couldn’t force a single word out of his mouth.

“C’mon, Angel,” Buffy urged quietly. “Confession’s good for the....Oh. Sorry. I never thought about that.”

He actually opened his mouth, looked around, and still nothing came out. It was just too much; he didn’t even understand what had happened  himself, and he was supposed to explain it to people who didn’t even like him?

“Oh, God, how about if I try?” Buffy said.

“Try what?” Xander asked.

“No,” Angel said. “No.”

He stared at his hands. There must be some way I can do this, he thought  If I had a year....

“Angel...” Buffy urged.

“Buffy...”

She looked down into his eyes, and he tried to compose himself. The same eyes, she thought. Those same eyes. How can people change so much on the inside and still look the same on the outside? “Let me try.”

“Let me try,” she repeated.

“Try what?” Xander asked.

“Let me see if I can tell this story, because Angel can’t.” Or won’t. She stepped forward, took a deep breath, and cleared her throat. “I was fighting evil all last year and it got really difficult, and I was really lonely.” She looked at Angel, who stared at her fiercely for a moment before dropping his eyes. “But then these lawyers brought back Darla, and made her human. So even though I knew she was evil, and had been evil for four hundred years, we, you know, and somehow she got pregnant! Now I have a kid. And the mother used to be a vampire or, actually is a vampire, or was a vampire, till she dusted herself, and even though she was a vampire,  I’m going to forget about that around  people who have relationships with vampires who are a whole lot less evil. Than her. Did I miss something? Oh, yeah, throw in something about vengeance demons and we’ve got everybody covered. Because I think just about everybody in this room has had sex with a vampire now.” She sat down with a plop in the last chair. “Did I miss anything? Anything at all?”

“A vampire got pregnant?” Xander said. “And the dad was....?”

“I wonder if this is a trend.” Anya wondered. “I could stock magical birth control.”

“Angel.” Buffy directed her remark at Xander. “It was Angel.”

“So Connor’s really yours?” Xander suddenly went white again. “Is he a vampire?”

“No, he’s human.”

“Does he look like you?”

 “Oh, yes.” This time it was Wes who spoke. “I don’t believe you saw the pictures.” He dug out his wallet, and flipped it open to the pictures. “There’s a distinct resemblance there. Look, there’s Lorne, making faces.”

“Yeah, well, his lungs put mine to shame, let me tell you.” Lorne said sourly. “The kid’s going to sing at the Met.”

“He’s, ah, cute.” Xander said. “So, ah, could I just mention, again, that my family now looks normal, and I’m not sure I like that at all? I mean, considering it takes two vampires...well, I’m just not comfortable any more.”

“Oh, Xander, wait till you see my relatives.” Anya said. “Then you can start worrying.”

Xander blinked up at her. “Nice to know my family’s place at the top of the podium won’t be vacant long.”

“Well, good,” Buffy said. “Then everybody can keep busy and leave me alone.”

“Buffy...”Xander said.

“What?”

“Do you really want me to...leave you alone?”

“Did I ever bug you about Anya? Huh? Did I?”

“No, not really.”

“What do you mean, not really?”

Wes looked from Buffy to Xander, then down at his watch. He caught Lorne’s eye, nodding at the debris on the table. Lorne stared back blankly until Wes tapped at his watch, then quietly shifted to his feet and picked up a couple of the dishes scattered around the Monopoly game and carried them to the kitchen. D’Hoffryn, only his eyes moving, hunched down further on the couch and watched them leave. Hallie blinked as Wes got up and left, and quietly got to her feet and followed after them. At the door she turned and gestured at Anya. Come tell me about your dress, she mouthed, but Anya gestured at Xander, propped weakly on couch pillows on the floor. Halllie stepped forward, nodding at both Xander and Buffy before grabbing Anya’s hand. Reluctantly, she rose to her feet before she could be hoisted up. After a moment’s thought, she held out a hand to D’Hoffryn who she yanked up and dragged after her, like a boat towing a reluctant dinghy.

Angel, Spike, Buffy and Xander remained. Spike and Angel stared at each other, till Spike sniffed. “I’m not leaving. That’s your job.”

“No, your job is to disappoint everybody and then never finish anything.”

“At least I’m persistent. You never hang around long to disappoint anybody.”

Buffy and Xander both looked up and after a moment’s glaring, both vampires thought better of fighting in front of witnesses. They left, one heading for the kitchen, the other for the street.

“So..” Xander said.

“So...” Buffy repeated.

“We have to talk, right?”

“I think we already talked, didn’t we? Do we need to go all over it again?” She looked into his eyes. “You know, my dad took off and Angel took off, but you’re still here. I want you to always be here, okay?  But I want Spike, too. Maybe he’ll take off, too, but I don’t know. I can’t tell anymore. I just want...you not to.”

“But it’s Spike, Buffy...”

“You were right, Xander. People don’t change. But...he did.” She struggled with words, her throat closing. “He changed for me, Xander. And for Dawn. The whole time I was gone.... He deserves credit for that.”

“Seems like he’s already getting it.” Xander muttered, but Buffy raised both eyebrows at him, and he looked abashed for a moment.

“Did Anya ever say she was sorry?”

“What?”

“Did Anya ever say she was sorry?”

He shook his head at her, bewildered by the question. “For what?”

 Buffy stared at him for a moment. For eleven centuries. “It just seems like you...hold Spike’s past against him---which you should----but not Anya’s.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“She’s human.”

“Why is that? Was she like the Little Mermaid? Did she change because of you? You were just as pissed at Angel a minute ago, over Darla.”

“Well...” She watched his face as he thought it over,  his eyes clouding over, a frown gradually accumulating on his face. “You know....you’re just confusing me now.”

She got to her feet, dusting herself off. “Xander, you have to think about it, okay? And I mean, really think about it. I just...I expect better from you, okay?”

For a moment, he looked so young that she couldn’t help but remember how long it had been, how much they had gone through together. “Buffy...”

“No buts, okay. If you disapprove of Angel, of me, then you have to disapprove of yourself, too.”

His jaw dropped. She watched him for a moment, to see if he was going to keel over again, but he didn’t. She got up and left him to find Spike.

Pounding. Bangbangbangbangbang.

Noise.

“Huh...what? What the hell?”

Willow sat up abruptly, wondering how she had gotten from Africa to her own bedroom. Oh. Dream.  Damn. It’s always the good ones that get interrupted. Nobody ever interrupted that dream about her failing test scores being posted on the front page after she’d been arrested for public nudity. She shook her head to clear it and looked around. Tara’s apartment. Good---familiar. Tara. She glanced down at her fondly, but she was still asleep for the moment. Then the pounding started again, and she thought: Uh. Oh. Unfamiliar.

She slipped carefully from under the covers, grabbing a throw from the foot of the bed and wrapping it around her shoulders as she tiptoed from the room. The heat of the dream’s setting had departed, leaving her feeling chilled.

She paused in the living room door to get her bearings, shaking her head to clear the dregs of sleep from it. There was no noise from the other bedroom, which meant that either the girls were sleeping through it, or they’d absconded through the window.

“Willow!”

Xander? She hurried to the door, bracing herself against whatever it was now. Why couldn’t emergencies happen during the day when she was rested, and awake? It was bad enough getting woken up, but then you had to deal with getting acclimated to the shock of whatever was going on. That never got easy. She sighed and unlocked the door. At least I have my fuzzy blanket, she thought. Grasping at straws always helps.

She opened the door to find Xander knocking on it so ferociously that he didn’t stop until a couple knocks had almost hit her. She frowned at him, scanning him for wounds, extra body parts, or sudden excess body hair. She relaxed slightly as she realized that he was upset, not in an Apocalypse kind of way, but in a Xander kind of way.  Nothing looked different, but he was wild-eyed. “Xander?” she asked mildly. “What’s wrong?”

“Sit down, Will, I have bad news.”

“What? Tell me! What’s wrong?”

“It’s Buffy. She—“ He gulped and looked around. “Is Dawn in bed?” He asked softly. “I don’t think she should hear this.”

“What?!” Willow grabbed his arm and yanked him inside. “Is she okay?”

“Oh, she’s okay,” he muttered, striding across the room with his hands in his hair. “She’s just fine, physcially, but mentally, she’s all----“

“Is it a spell or something?”

“It must be.” He’d been dreading this moment for quite some time, he realized. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d dreaded it ever since he’d found Spike weeping outside of Buffy’s house after she came back. “She’s sleeping with Spike.”

Willow blinked at him and waited.

“See? I know! I was in shock, too, it’s disgusting, it’s---“

“It’s---Is that it?”

“What do you, mean, Will, is that it? She’s sleeping with Spike, he’s Spike, he’s---“

“Uh....Xander....”

He flopped down in a chair, running his hands through his hair repeatedly and rocking back and forth.  Willow looked down on him for a moment, then sighed, and sat down next to him. “Xander?”

“Yeah?”

“I knew that.”

“You...? You...!”

“Buffy told me during the slumber party. It was kind of obvious.”

He was struck dumb, staring at her with something like betrayal in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighed and looked into space. “For the same reason I didn’t tell you about Tara at first. I had to figure it out myself first. Then I told you.”

“This is different.”

“Do you think it’s okay, me and Tara?”

“Well, yeah, it’s...it’s....What do you mean?”

“What if you didn’t?”

“What if I didn’t? Will, you’ve never dated anybody stupid. I mean, you’ve never done anything stupid like that.”

“But what if I did?”

“Huh? I don’t....I don’t get it.”

“If I was dating somebody you didn’t like, what would you do?”

“Well...” he shrugged. She leaned against him, sighing deeply. “I don’t know. Why would I disapprove?”

“Well, somebody you just didn’t like. You know, that fat guy you work with who smells? What if I decided to date him and you didn’t like it?”

“Oh, hey, hey...I see what you’re doing.” He jumped to his feet, leaving her lurching sideways  on the couch. “This is different! Spike is evil, Spike is---is----“ He sputtered helplessly, looking for a word. “He’s...He’s...Spike! It’s disgusting! He’s tried