CHAPTER 1

Choice

For a week afterwards, she didn't speak. No more than was absolutely necessary, anyway. She forced herself to be cheery, to spare a few words for Dawn and the others, but it hurt her tongue to talk. It hurt to move.

She stalked the graveyard, silent as death. Lately it seemed that all she did was patrol. But maybe it just seemed that way because she never ran into anything to slay. And that made it all seem longer. Why was she here, after all, if not to slay? Wasn't that what she was brought back to do?

A twig snapped, and she turned. Well, at least there was one vampire she saw plenty of.

Must be that time for a talk. He wouldn't have been careless enough to make any noise if he didn't want her to hear. Oh goody, Spike one-on-one. Don't have nearly enough of that these days.

"Hullo, Buffy." His eyes were piercing her. "Eaten anything yet today?" Piercing like spears, like his words.

She tried to ignore him, and started to turn back around. As a matter of fact, she had eaten something. Orange juice. With extra pulp. And a cracker.

"This has gotta stop, luv." He crossed the space of dark grass in between them in milliseconds, grabbed her arms roughly. "You think anyone wants to see you wasting away?"

"I don't care what they want." Her tongue felt creaky, like an old door. She nearly swallowed it.

"Yeah, well, I bloody well do. Lord knows why, but somehow I find myself caring about the whole sodding Scooby gang. Funny how that works out. Look, Buffy, you're here. You're back. You can't fucking escape it. They didn't want you back this way, but too bad, the wankers, they fucked up and you are here this way, and hurting and it's their fault." His grip tightened possessively on her arm. "But God, Slayer ... I lost you already and I can't bear to lose you again."

She looked down at his hands gripping her arms. Extracted herself from his grip. "You never had me to lose, Spike."

He sucked air through his teeth. "I know that," he said, "but they did."

She looked away. She wanted to say things to him. You blame them, do you? Don't fucking tell me you didn't want me back as much as they did. Selfish, you're all so selfish. But she didn't.

Instead she walked away from him.

He stared after her, wanting to scream, to cry, to kill something, to kill her, to love her.

He didn't have a choice.