Chapter 7 - Aftermath

Everyone was trying to talk at once. There were tears, laughter and too many words for any sense to be made. Without realising it, Buffy still held Spike's hand as they approached the centre of the group.

"Whoa, people, I know there's a lot we need to talk about, but it's late. We can get together tomorrow and.... whatever," Buffy sounded tired. "Yeah, let's get home," Xander responded, looking at the still-linked hands. "I guess we need to put some effort into putting things back the way they were, and that's probably not best done in a cemetery."

Spike pulled his hand away from Buffy. "Yeah, I'd better get back to the crypt. I've left it too long anyway."

Buffy put out a hand to stop him, but Dawn was quicker. "No, Spike, don't go back to the crypt, you'll need some time to get used to things again. Come back, we can make you up a bed in the basement."

He looked at Buffy. "Yeah, come back, Spike. I don't think you should be alone just now," she added. He didn't reply, just nodded, but Buffy saw his shoulders relax and knew he hadn't been looking forward to a night in an empty crypt.

Xander opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. He moved towards Giles, saying quietly, "I think, maybe, a pre-meeting would be a good idea. You know, without, Buffy, Dawn and Spike. We need to find some way of prying Spike out of this."

Giles nodded, "I'll try to set it up."

He'd slept in more comfortable places – especially recently – but the Summers basement wasn't bad. At least Spike didn't have to worry about sunrise. He felt so alone – bereft. It was different to when she'd died. Then he felt grief, guilt, and the whole gamut of feelings he didn't enjoy, but at least understood. Now, he should be feeling joy. He had brought her back. Dawn had her sister back. But all he felt was alone – as if part of him was missing.

"I'll leave it a few days," he thought, "then I've got to get out of here. I've got to get away from Sunnydale. If Buffy's even feeling half as confused as I am just now, then the best thing I can do is get the hell out of her life for a while." He knew what he'd decided was sensible, but that didn't help him sleep.

Upstairs, Dawn had eventually left Buffy to go to her own room. Buffy was tired – strange when you consider that her body hadn't actually been busy lately. "Obviously emotional stress," she thought. Despite feeling tired, Buffy just couldn't sleep. Strange, when she was dead, she had been in a good place. She had been happy; she'd felt safe. Safe – hardly a feeling that she'd noticed a lot as the Slayer. Then she'd felt Spike calling to her. She'd been intrigued, had reached through the opening and listened to his thoughts. She'd seen how he cared about Dawn and how she was the reason he was calling to her. She'd gone in closer, to try to understand what was happening and been engulfed in a warmth and safety almost as great as where she was. She was surprised and in that instant lost her connection with the other place.

Still, the weeks she'd spent in Spike's body had been interesting. A bit like a holiday before starting a big job. But now, she had to take on her responsibilities and calling. It felt so strange not to have Spike in her thoughts. She missed him. She felt so alone. She gave up trying to sleep and went downstairs. "Maybe I could watch some TV," she reasoned.

As she reached the sofa, she turned round and saw Spike come in too. "Let me guess," she smiled at him, "you couldn't sleep either?" A smile and a nod were his reply. "Well," she asked, "how does some cocoa and TV sound?"

"Good," he started towards the kitchen.

"Hey, I'll make it," she protested, "I mean, ...." She had been about to point out that he was a guest, but stopped herself. He'd been living here for weeks like a family member – it didn't seem fair to point that out now. Instead she nodded, "OK, thanks."

She sat on the sofa, way to one side and started flicking channels on the TV remote. Spike returned with two mugs and sat at the opposite side of the sofa. Buffy found an old film she enjoyed and turned to ask it that was ok to find Spike staring at her. He looked away, embarrassed. "It's just..... been a long time since I've seen you. I mean, you've been in here," he pointed at his head, but I still only had memories of how you looked."

"Pretty mixed bunch of memories from what I can remember," she smiled at him, "but on the whole, complementary, so that's ok."

He looked serious. "D'you suppose we'll ever feel ourselves again?" he asked.

"I hope so," she replied. "Maybe not the same as before, but a new 'ourselves'."

She turned her gaze back to the TV, not really paying attention. Next morning, Dawn found the TV still on and the two of them slumped towards the middle of the sofa, Buffy's head on Spike's shoulder. She smiled and got herself ready for school. Willow and Tara also noticed the situation, but felt less inclined to smile.