She wasn't sure what was happening, but soon Buffy's legs were moving forward, her steps slow at first, as though they'd forgotten exactly how to walk. Spike took a step forward himself, but then stopped himself, unsure of what to do. But Buffy, despite her confusion, did not slow her approach; in fact, gradually her steps grew more confident as she strode, just short of a jog, towards him.

Suddenly he was right in front of her. She was standing directly in front of the man she was so sure she'd lost forever. A million thoughts were pounding on the outskirts of her consciousness, fighting to be heard, or analyzed, but for the moment a calm silence had overtaken her mind. There were no thoughts, only actions, actions she knew by heart.

His lips parted, as though he were about to speak, about to explain the past year to her as well as he could or say something, anything, to the woman he loved. But no words escaped his lips, for they weren't even given time. Instead her hand reached up, tugging slightly at his neck, and leaning her own body forward, into his.

She brought their lips together quickly. His lips already parted, hers soon followed suit. They met hungrily; the need that had always existed between them only seemed to have strengthened in their absence. His tongue slid with aching familiarity between her lips, and began a choreographed dance with her own.

Her hands gripped at his neck, and his own long hands, calloused from the battle, ignored their pain to grip at her waist, pulling her up and in towards him. She gasped softly against him, and he returned a low rumbling noise, somewhere between a purr and growl. It was a primal sound, and for a moment it drove her on. The gentle motions of their lips became harsher and rushed.

Suddenly, remembering Buffy would need to breathe, Spike pulled back slowly, tenderly allowing her waist to slip backwards, beneath his fingertips, as she came to rest on flat feet once more. With a deep breath, Buffy took a small step backwards.

Thoughts that had been on the edges of her mind were now rushing forwards, loud, but muffled in her head. Her vision was blurred slightly by unshed tears that were beginning to well up, but she could clearly see Spike standing before her, awestruck, and hopeful. And the thoughts were muffled no longer.

Her hands had slid down from his shoulders without her noticing, and she lifted her right hand quickly, instinctually. Before she knew exactly what was happening, it was swinging quickly forward, making a satisfying THWACK against his face. His head turned sharply on impact, and he quickly reared around to face her, as her hand fell to her side, limp once more.

His eyes widened, looking even bluer in contrast to the vibrant red where her slap had hit. "What the bloody hell was that for, you crazy bint!" He shouted, lifting a hand to rub his cheek as he moved his jaw side to side, as though checking to make sure he could.

"Crazy bint!" Buffy shouted, completely oblivious to the wide-eyed onlookers that had been watching them since Spike had called her name. "How DARE you?" Her eyes were set with a fiery glare, and her hands clenched into fists at either side of her body. Her lithe form was in a fighting stance Spike knew well, and a fighting stance that on this slayer, more than anything else, he knew to fear.

He stepped back a few paces, lifting his hands in a slight surrender. "Come now, love. How 'bout we just go back to the snogging, yeah?"

She lifted her fist, ready to punch him in the nose, a painfully familiar signal of her anger. But she was stopped by a firm grip from Faith around her wrist. Faith, however, sent a warning glare Spike's way, and slowly, as she felt the tension lessen in Buffy's arm, released her hold.

"So, you're alive then?" Buffy asked, her stance still offensive, and her voice eerily calm.

"Yeah, pet. Been helping out Peaches here in LA." Spike nodded, staying at least an arm's length back from Buffy, keeping an eye on her body for tell-tale signs of attack.

"How long?"

"I'm sorry?"

"How. Long. Have. You. Been. Alive?"She let the words out slowly between gritted teeth, and Spike did his best not to wince at the anger in her tone that he knew was aimed at him and him alone.

"It's complicated, love." Spike warned, raising his hands again in a sign of surrender, as well as defense.

"How. Long." She repeated, and his face fell, knowing he'd have to answer.

"Bout six months. Plus a few all ghost-like." Spike finally admitted, his eyes quickly falling to face the ground and muscles tensing for impact.

"SIX MONTHS!" She was furious, and she was shouting. The lungs on that girl were, without doubt, something to marvel at. Perhaps they too had been improved by her calling, or perhaps she was just loud. "AND DID YOU EVEN CONSIDER PICKING UP A GODDAMN PHONE? MAYBE LETTING THE WOMAN YOU SUPPOSEDLY LOVED KNOW THAT OH HEY, BY THE WAY, YOU WERE ALIVE!"

"It's not so simple, love. I figured-" But Spike was cut off again by her screams before he could explain himself.

"You FIGURED? You idiot! I've been mourning you for a year! Every day since Sunnydale has been my own personal Hell, but hey, you FIGURED! What do you know, that makes it all hunky-dory!"

Spike's lips pursed, as he did his best to take the shouting he knew, on some level, he probably deserved. But it wasn't in his nature, even as love's bitch, to let her yell at him like this. After everything they'd been through, she at least owed him his explanation. And yeah, after it, he'd probably get told off and he'd deal with that when it came to it, but come hell or high water he was going to get his side out before she got up on her high horse. "Could you set your bleeding god complex aside for one soddin' minute, slayer? Let the rest of us get a word in?"

With a loud huff, Buffy lifted her fist, and let out a particularly fierce right hook to his nose. She heard a satisfying crack, and couldn't hold back the slight curl on the edge of her lips as she saw red pouring from the wound as he fell to the ground, caught completely off guard.

With a sated "hmph" Buffy turned on her heels, hardly noticing when Spike tried to prop himself up on his elbows and began to swear loudly. Instead she just began to walk quickly up the staircase to the rooms above, ignoring the roomful of eyes that were glancing back and forth between Spike's fallen form and her retreating one.

A stunned silence fell over the entire lobby, if not the whole city. Very few present had ever seen Buffy so angry, and everyone was terrified of her wrath. Even those that had witnessed this rage in the past, knew with the utmost certainty that intervening would be dangerous at best, and likely fatal.

After a long pause, Faith stepped forwards and offered out an arm, helping Spike up from the ground. As she did so, the rest of the hotel seemed to regain their composure, movement rekindling everywhere, as voices and shuffling began to break through the quiet.