Well, thus far all they'd managed to do was shuffle around awkwardly until they'd made their way to the living room. She's taken a seat on the couch, while he'd settled into the armchair opposite. It was almost as if he was trying to put as much distance between them as possible. However, despite his assertion that they'd needed to talk, and her agreement, neither one of them seemed to be too keen on doing just that.

Maybe it was just that neither of them wanted to be the first one to speak? God knows she was rather loath to kick things off. Almost from the beginning, she'd been doing that and it hadn't ever seemed to end well.

"William, I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to hear me out…"

"Angel said he'd only tell you…"

"I think the words, 'be careful what you wish for,' are a little redundant…"

"You probably don't want to…."

"Can we talk?"

No, she'd certainly been the strikeout queen when it came to starting a productive conversation with William. It was better to just be patient and let him decide how and when he wanted to start. After all, he'd been the one that told her to leave him alone and let him figure out who he was. And he'd been the one to show up at her door saying they needed to talk. It seemed the least she could do at this point was to wait patiently and let him do so. The problem was, she wasn't exactly a very patient person and this unending silence was making her antsy and itchy and lots of other words that ended in y. She really needed this… whatever… to get started or she was going to go crazy. Also a 'y' word.

"Can I… get you something to drink? I have, um, water…"

Great way to open things there. Not awkward at all there, Buffy.

"No! No, I'm fine, thank you."

Well, unless she read that wrong, which was entirely probable, he was feeling just as awkward. Why did these things always have to be so darn awkward?

And now they were back to silence. Oh goody.

"Buffy, I…"

"Ok, I finished all my homework like you said," Dawn came bounding down the stairs just as William was finally saying something. "Now can I please watch...?" Dawn's question trailed off as she spotted William sitting across from her in the living room. "William! You're back!"

Dawn took the last couple of stairs at a leap and somehow made it across the living room at near super speed and with a happy squeal in pitch and decibels that only Dawn could reach, and threw herself into a huge hug encompassing poor William who had apparently stood up at some point.

"You are back, right?" Dawn mumbled in uncertain happiness. "Please tell me you're back?"

If William had looked awkward before, it had all simply vanished as he returned Dawn's coltish hug. The two of them just held there for long seconds and it was nearly enough to make her jealous.

Whoa. Where had that come from?

Pushing that thought aside for another time, she couldn't help but feel like she was watching something that was special. A genuine and innocent affection. Love. The kind of love that real families had, whether they shared a bond of blood or not. She really hoped that no matter what eventually happened between her and William, he wouldn't ever let it come between what he and Dawn had together. He was good for her, and she was good for him. He seemed to have a natural way with her, not unlike Spike…

She could admit now that she'd been wrong to try and cut Spike off from Dawn back in Spring. No matter how much she'd been angry with herself or Spike, he really did seem to care about Dawn and if she'd ever given it more than two seconds of thought, and put aside her own messed up thoughts, she would have recognized that they both meant something to each other. Instead, she'd resorted to the Hellmouth version of a stereotypical parental alienation sort of thing. And now there was no way to make up for it because he was gone.

But this… this was the same and yet different. Spike played the part of the annoyed older brother who would eviscerate anyone who hurt Dawn. William, well, was just different. There was definitely an older brother thing going on there, but it was more… mature? Somehow she didn't think she'd ever see William being annoyed with Dawn. In fact, anytime Dawn had done something to supremely annoy her this summer, William had only ever found it endearing. Like somehow he just understood the cosmic level mind bend of adolescence and instead of being bothered and annoyed like the rest of them, he just sort of knew what to say. And yet, when it came to talking to her awkward was the ruling emotion.

Is this what it was like when someone had an identical twin? At first, it was like every time she looked at William, all she could see was Spike. The parts of William that had been so thoroughly him, that even after more than a hundred years of being a vampire, the demon still couldn't override it. Now, it was almost the opposite. She had come to the point that she could more easily tell them apart and see them as different people. Not because one was human and one vampire, or because that's what she'd always been taught, but because they really were different. Sure, there were so many similarities, but there were just as many differences. For all of his shyness and nervousness, he still held this hidden surety. Spike had been the opposite. For all his swagger and certainty, he'd always had an inner doubt. She'd figured that out even before Glory and the tower. It was what drove his need to prove himself over and over. William didn't really have that need. He sort of took things as they came and adjusted without needing to make anything his own or put his mark on it. No, William and Spike were two different people. Like identical twins who shared the same DNA but were each their own person. And she'd missed them both quite a lot lately.

"... talk to your sister? As a favor, if you will?"

William was smiling indulgently at Dawn, who nodded and then turned to leave the room and head towards the stairs again, shooting her a look that she was pretty sure indicated Dawn would murder her in her sleep if she hurt William.

Woah, apparently inner-musey Buffy had spaced out and missed a whole conversation. And when had Dawn gotten so unbelievably scary?

"She doesn't mean it, you know?" William says as he watches Dawn sulk up the stairs.

"Oh, I think that she thinks she does."

What else could she say without admitting her mind had wandered off into la-la land?

"Is that any different?" He asks giving her that curiously amused look of his.

Was it? Now that she thought about it, they'd both really said the same thing. But their view and intent had been completely opposite. He was essentially saying not to take it personally and she was saying it was entirely personal. So who was right? She already knew the answer to that if she were honest with herself.

"How do you do that?"

The question had been given beseeching voice before she'd really even finished thinking the words.

"I'm afraid I don't understand? Did I do something wrong?" He couldn't have tried to look more innocent then and once again she was struck by just how different they were.

"No," The smile she gave him was genuine. "You did something right. And it was the opposite of what I did."

"Buffy, I…"

"You always see the good of everything." She interrupted him before he could object too much. "You see the beauty of every sunrise, or the wonder of every book, or the truth hiding behind a shield in the form of a snarky comment. You're like a reverse Mrs. Gump. You always just know what sweet yummy center is inside every chocolate without having to use the little cheat sheet. Meanwhile, I'm just staring at the whole box thinking I don't want to try any of them because no matter what the paper says, I'll end up getting the gross maple one."

He was staring at her now with a bit of a dumbstruck look. Probably the whole chocolates thing. Was that even a thing the Victorians had? Surely they did. Maybe if she just said what she meant?

"I'm always waiting for the inevitable bad to happen," She confessed as she turned to look out the front window at nothing in particular. Not that she could really see anything in the growing darkness. It just seemed like it was easier to say something like that if she wasn't looking directly at someone. "That's my job, my calling… find the bad; and, I'm good at it. And when I'm not it usually finds me instead." She gave a short rueful shake to push that thought aside. "But you only ever see the good and I… I don't know how to do that. I think I used to, but…"

She felt his hand on her shoulder, gently urging her to turn towards him. With more than a little trepidation, she did, uncertain what she would see or what he might say. What do you say when someone confesses that they're broken inside? What she saw though, was really a look she couldn't define.

"Buffy," He paused a moment. It looked like he was going to say something, but he didn't. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he decided to say something but then decided against it. Then against the next thing, and the next thing, until finally he just stopped. He took a deep breath as if to steel himself, but then just let it out as he dropped his hand back to his side and turned away from her.

"It's ok, William," She tells him to his back. "I understand. Just… please don't let this change what you and Dawn have. It would…"

"No." He rather forcefully responds as he ruefully shakes his head. "You don't understand. Not at all."

He turns to face her again, a look of total and sad certainty once again in place.

"Buffy," He once again started. "You've been subjected to things which no one should ever face, and most assuredly not one so young in years. Your calling has been both a boon and a bane to your heart and mind, to your very existence. You've been made to sacrifice so much, even heaven itself, that all you can see is sacrifice. Is it any wonder that you've come to believe that's all there is and guard yourself against it?"

When did he capture her face, forcing all her attention to those eyes that are so deep a person could drown in them?

"You are not broken unless you choose to be," He smiled. "I find good because it is something I choose. There is nothing more beautiful or worthy than to grow the spark of goodness and love within every part of this magnificent creation. My vision has not been clouded with loss and injustice such as you've faced and yet still you forgive even the unforgivable."

It was hard not to feel the shudder that ran through him at those words and she reacted automatically to remind him of who he was.

"William…"

"No! Let me finish!" He stopped her cold, with the tiniest shake for emphasis. "Understand, Buffy, he may have been me, but I am not him," His expression was firm as he carefully and deliberately enunciated those last four words as he said them. "Not now, nor ever. From the moment I was called forth, the course of my life changed and I will never be him. I'm not asking that you forget him or your love of him. I don't think such a thing is possible if it was genuine. What I am asking, is can you love me as I am, with all your heart? Will you risk everything once more and seek out the good in life to be with me? Not as him, nor the man you brought back from death itself, but as who I am here and now?"

The look in his eyes was so earnest. They challenged and pleaded and demanded. There was so much hope in them, and a lot of fear that he'd hidden well the past couple of months. And there was passion and love. There was so much love in them. A deep well of so much abiding love, it took her breath away.

And suddenly, there was no more fear or doubt. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop. No more ifs, ands, or buts. No more regrets.

And suddenly, she could let him go.

Spike had loved her. Even as much as she'd denied it, deep down she'd known that. And it had taken her too long to realize that at some point she'd come to love him, too. He'd risked it all just to be with her, to love her, and he had. She could finally let him go. William was right. He may have been part of Spike, but he wasn't Spike and Spike wasn't this William. She'd loved him. Part of her probably always would. But William knew that and didn't care.

"I already do," She whispered with more conviction than she'd have thought she possessed.

Where ever you are, Spike, I forgive you and I hope you can forgive me. Goodbye.

"I love you, William."

His entire face changed. She'd never thought he could look more relieved, elated, or passionate as he did at that moment, all of it wrapped together as his lips practically melded to her own. So much emotion poured into that kiss. There was no tentative caress, no shyly seeking permission. It was a kiss of someone who knew the depth of their love and wanted to pour all of it into her, and she would happily let him.

They were so wrapped up in the joy and passion of relief and acceptance that neither of them noticed the sudden appearance at the window of incensed eyes of gold, determined to reclaim what was hers.