To nobody's delight, Spike popped in and out of Angel's life with more frequency over the next few days. Angel was quickly getting over his appreciation for Spike, while the rest of them were sick of hearing the two spat. Willow and Fred worked long hours along with Giles and Dawn, trying to find a cure, while Buffy remained quiet, stealing away at night for long patrols where she could work out her tension.

It was in the second week that Spike stopped disappearing and could move around without needing to be in the same room as Angel, so long as the elder vampire was in close proximity. Willow hypothesized that since Angel was the closest thing Spike had to family and that they shared blood, his existence was tethered to him. Neither were pleased by this theory.

Spike was left on his own in Angel's conference room, fuming, when Buffy walked in after patrol. Unsuspecting, Spike stopped his pacing and looked up at her. She was wearing a simple black sweater with a pair of dark jeans, her hair longer than he remembered, looking more her age than she had back in Sunnydale, and once he had a taste of her, he couldn't tear his eyes away. Under his ministrations, Buffy blushed, but did not back down.

"I missed that look. Means you finally stopped ignoring me."

"Buffy-"

"I guess I haven't had much to say either, I just-"

"Don't like you seeing me like this-"

"It was always so physical between us and now-"

Realizing their words, they smiled at each other and started to relax. Breaking the stare, Spike coughed and looked around.

"Rest of 'em went to their hotel for the evening, said they'd check in with you. 'Spect Peaches and Cordelia are still here somewhere since I'm not being dragged around. Helps that he has his apartment here."

He grew uncomfortable and turned away from her.

"Is that weird for you? I tried, believe me. Didn't expect him to blow it so bad. Don't know why I'm surprised, never did know what he had was good until-"

He turned and looked at her, quieted at the stern expression on Buffy's face.

"Spike?"

"Yes, love?"

"Can you tell me what happened after the Hellmouth? All of it?"

"You mean after my masculine blaze of glory?"

"If it helps, you can start there."

Her grin made him feel fuzzy inside and he could no longer filter the words falling out of his mouth. Despite himself, he told her every word, their gaze never faltering, and he felt the tension and pain drift away.

In the tips of his fingers and toes, Spike could feel the itch as though he were so close to being able to touch again. Something felt different, more stable, which was emphasized by the fact that he hadn't disappeared for a week now. The group assembled around a conference table in one of Angel's offices. Giles was lecturing about some kind of army he was building to fight evil and how they were all a part of it. It appeared that Faith and the principal were all cozy in Cleveland with their team of seasoned fighters, gaining more experience at the Hellmouth there, while Angel's team was prepared to continue their side of the battle in LA. The only new part was Giles' intentions to take off for London where he would spearhead a new Watcher's Council that would focus on training young slayers. Spike had remained uninterested until Buffy mentioned that she, Willow, Xander, and Dawn would be going with him.

For all the progress Buffy and he had made in the past few days, since he had told her about his time in hell, he saw it all fall apart. Despite how hard he tried and desired, Spike could not leave Angel, and so Buffy would be leaving him behind. He suspected something like this might happen, but he hoped that it would be after they discovered a cure for him. All along, he had been waging a war between his desire to go with her wherever she wanted and to let her leave him behind. Now the decision had been made for him.

From his spot near Buffy's seat at the table, Spike stood stark still and willed himself to disappear. When it didn't happen, he turned and drifted out of the room.

Buffy was steps behind him. He knew it, could sense her assertive stride and the heat radiating from her, so he slowed, but didn't stop. For whatever reason, she was being patient with him, allowing him to lead them to where he chose, talk when he wanted, though he suspected there was no way he was getting out of talking.

Nineteen days they kept telling him, that had been all the time he had missed since he had burned and dusted, but in the time that he'd been back, it seemed as though a lifetime had passed for all the changes he saw in everyone.

The whelp, Xander, a ghost of himself, kept seeking him out, offering words about love and living and friendship, offering him, him, that friendship. Red, the witch, had really outdone herself back there and so Spike knew she deserved the aura she exuded, but now she was looking upon him as though he were some kind of equal, when she had never even really looked at him before. Even the Watcher, who only weeks ago had plotted to have him killed no longer glared at him when he spoke. The Bit, Dawn, felt older to him, but he suspected that might have been going on for awhile, he just hadn't allowed himself to look at her for so many months. Angel at least had the decency to appraise him with the usual suspiciousness and disdain, although such feelings had dimmed since he learned that Spike had secured the vampire's soul. None of the others knew him, but they weren't cursing his existence, so it was a strange sensation.

Only Harmony, who he worked hard to avoid, seemed to be overly excited by his being there. She burst into tears whenever she saw him, sobbing promises of their everlasting love and what they could do to each other once he was solid again. Spike didn't mind the flash in Buffy's eyes when she overheard.

Buffy, for whom he kept trying not to think of. She still appeared tired and thin, but her confidence was renewed and she had a strong air of determination and something akin to relief about her. And when she had seen him for the first time, incorporeal and all, she had beamed at him, her whole body smiling. Regardless of how close she had been standing to Angel, Spike had felt the new stirrings of hope he had tried to squash back in Sunnydale, before the end. Over and over, he kept reminding himself of the reason why he had chosen to dust, to ride the last waves of sunlight and the crumbling of the city out. It was for her, for her cause and for the good of the world, yes, of course, but also for her to be done, to be met with some peace and relief. He thought it would be even better if she had him out of her life, finally, something he could give her in his death because he never could bring himself to leave her in life.

For all his good intentions, Buffy kept providing him small moments that fueled his dreams, even back in Sunnydale during that last night of passion and when she told him she loved him. Here, now, she kept reaching her arm out as though she wanted to touch him if only she could, sitting close to him in meetings, and giving him that same serene smile she had the first time whenever he popped back into the room from wherever it was he went. Not to mention her calm and cool attitude towards Angel choosing to be with Cordelia, when just weeks ago he had spotted them sucking hello out of each other, made him feel much better than he should.

He stopped when they reached the end of the long hallway and he had to admit that he had no idea where he wanted to go. Spike could have floated right through the door of Angel's office and he would have if Buffy had come charging after him fists and eyes blazing, but instead she waited on him. With a sigh, he motioned to the door and followed after her when she opened it and went inside. Hearing the click and her measured breathing, he determined not to look at her, took an unnecessary breath, and spoke.

"Finally got what you wanted for so long now, pet, I'll finally be out of your way. Though I can't say I much fancy being stuck with Peaches for an eternity."

His intent was for a touch of humor, but his voice betrayed him in shakiness mixed with fear and a hint of bitterness. He could picture the arms crossed at her chest, her face pulled into a scowl, as her eyes bore into him, but she didn't speak for a long moment.

"You really are a big dope."

The choke of her own voice shocked him enough to force him to turn around and all he could do was gape at her as he found tears in her eyes.

"I told you before that I wasn't ready for you not to be here and you went and tried to be all noble and died and then you come back, but keep being stubborn and disappearing again and each time it's like you've died all over again and I just keep worrying that this time it'll stick and you won't come back."

She did not break the gaze, despite the tears still in her eyes and the blush that crept over her face.

"I can't promise a consistent stream of exciting apocalypses, buildings full of demon friends, or the wealth and fame that Angel and his team could offer you. But I've got a team and a plan of my own and you're a major part of that. You earned it. If that's not what you want, then I can't stop you, God knows you've done enough, but if you do want to come-"

Her breath caught in her throat and she gasped, taken aback as a thought occurred to her.

She continued, "Do you? Do you want to come with me?"

Spike swallowed, then nodded, unable to find his voice, afraid that the tears threatening to spill from his own eyes would betray his cool exterior, but he noticed that even his nod was vigorous.

"Okay then, we'll find a way. It's us."

As she looked at him with tear-filled eyes and an expression of longing and determination, he knew he needed to offer her something with more substance, something more than just how much he loved her and missed her, how grateful he was to be considered a part of her team, but he didn't know how to put it into words without sounding cliche. Those doe eyes, reminiscent of how she'd looked at him in the Hellmouth, when she had told him she loved him, were unfaltering. He could almost visualize the words coming to her lips, saying them again out loud to him, if only he could give her something a little bit more.

"Buffy," his voice was a whisper as she stepped closer to him.

"Spike," he saw a tentative hand reach out and he tensed, both in trepidation of the hand going right through him and of the words he so longed to hear, especially as this was no life or death situation and there would be no need to say them unless she wanted.

Before either could happen, the world went black.

"Dammit, Spike," Buffy muttered at the now vacant spot where he had popped out on her again. It took a lot out of her just to work up the courage to confide in him and sometimes she too would like the ability to pop in and out of situations she wished she could avoid. Every word that she told him had been true, though she wasn't sure what they could do to untether him from Angel's world.

Everything remained unclear and difficult, but in the days after the Hellmouth had collapsed and they had come to LA to reconvene, Buffy found she could focus. Without a threat of an apocalypse, playing mommy to a bunch of potential slayers, and counting down to her death, she felt like she could breathe again. Another apocalypse would come, the potentials still needed guidance, and her job was a constant death wish, but in less than a month's time, Buffy had realized quite a bit about herself.

For one, she now had a choice as to how she wanted to lead her life. The time for thinking that slaying was a temporary burden she would bear was gone. Being a slayer was a part of her she could not ignore, but with a fresh start, she could go at it with a new perspective. She enjoyed discussing the rebuilding with Giles, planning to train potentials and creating a support network for all types who wanted to fight evil. Willow would join them in England to head the department for witches and Dawn wanted to delve deeper into research, hinting at an interest in being a Watcher, but with a promise that she would first finish high school. Even Xander, who remained haunted by Anya's death, but persistent in maintaining a positive demeanor, appeared reinvigorated with a purpose and distraction. She was just happy they could all do this together and they'd find a way to bring Spike with them. It made her feel as though they really stood a chance.

How she might transition from this space between love and friendship with Spike, she did not know. All she could think about these days were their last few nights together, especially the one right before the battle when she had tried to show him just how much he meant to her. She had thought she had gotten through to him, even without saying the words out loud, but when she blurted it as a last-ditch effort, she realized she had failed. He had died without knowing and now he was back, incorporeal, and it was awkward between them again. Not to mention how he kept bringing Angel up in conversation and telling her how he was sure Cordelia was just a phase.

Buffy didn't know how to tell him about her new relationship with Angel. Seeing Angel's world and sitting down to talk to him, to get to know each other as they were now and who they wanted to be in the future, without the desires of the past looming, they both admitted to having moved on from each other. It wasn't that there was a lack of love, they just had both found and lost new people, even if Angel now had his soul for good. They were better people and did greater things without each other. Spike's reappearance had only emphasized this point. Spike, whom she found made her stronger, happier, and better. And yes, it was surprising to find Angel with Cordelia, but she made him smile and laugh, and Buffy found that to be jarring, yet acceptable.

Spike's current ghostly issue was more pressing and she hoped, more easily solved. She would get him solid again, break the connection to Angel, and then they would figure out the roles they played in each other's lives. Buffy loved him, she was certain, despite what he had responded in the Hellmouth, and she liked the way he looked at her, though she hoped to be able to wash away the doubt and hesitancy behind it. Her friends knew too, she had told them all a week after Sunnydale. She had sat them all down, Giles, Xander, Willow, Dawn, and Angel, because to say it, she hoped it would be easier to move on, to live without the regret of having waited until it was too late, and to somehow let Spike know it had been real too. They accepted her love for him, every single one of them, and had proven they meant it by accepting him when he came back.

Now if only she could get him to stay in one place for long enough, she might finally be able to convince him.