When we left off, Spike had just said:

"I want to tell you everything that happened after I left, and where I've been. But there's one very important thing that you need to know upfront." He turned slightly, to look into her eyes when he said his next sentence. Feeling like he was drowning in her clear, hazel eyes, he said, "Love, the chip… it doesn't work anymore."

+ + + +

Buffy tried to hide her reaction to his revelation, but failed miserably. Her eyes grew wide as saucers and she felt her skin grow clammy. She still held onto his hand, but her grip loosened as she felt the unmistakable feeling of fear bubble up in her stomach. The kind of fear that one feels when they are facing impending doom, and knowing there is nothing they can do about it, like watching as you're involved in a car accident or as you are cornered by a mugger in an alleyway knowing that there is no one to come to your rescue. She started to absently shake her head in disbelief, since she couldn't quite form any words to say to him.

Spike sensed the change in her immediately, feeling her fingers loosen around his own and sensing the cold sweat she broke out in. He could also smell the fear rolling off of her in waves, and that more than anything else broke his heart. He had never intended for her to be afraid of him, and he started to worry that he wouldn't be able to fix this. At the same time, though, he knew that things were likely to get worse before they got better.

Finally she managed to make her brain and her mouth to work in sync with each other, but still she couldn't really form coherent thoughts. "How…Why…How?" was all she managed to croak out, mentally slapping herself as she unconsciously shrunk away from him on the sofa.

He wanted to cry watching her reaction. He'd never intended to put her through such agony but he knew that he needed to tell her the whole story and make her believe that she could trust him again.

"I didn't do it on purpose, Buffy. Please, you have to believe that. I'll tell you the whole sodding story, from beginning to end. Starting with the night I left. Just please hear me out." He told her, as he got up and started pacing around the room. He would've given anything for a smoke at that point, but knew that smoking inside the house was out of the question.

"I'm listening, Spike." Buffy's voice broke when she said his name. She was trying to remain calm, and give him the chance to explain, but all she could imagine was a horrible reality where her family was brought together for one fleeting moment to only be torn apart again. She glanced up at Spike, pacing around the room, and willed her tears not to fall from her eyes. But she lost that battle almost as quickly and miserably as she lost the battle with her fear at the revelation that Spike's chip didn't work any more.

Spike continued to pace, remembering the night that he left Sunnydale, as he began telling Buffy what had happened during his five-year absence.

+ + + + +

Sunnydale, April  2002

Spike wandered down the street toward his crypt. He couldn't believe that once again, he'd been dismissed by the Slayer. It still hurt, much more than it should. He was a Big Bad vampire, after all… things like whether or not the slayer had any feelings for him shouldn't matter. In fact, it was completely unorthodox to begin with, his being in love with her. He finally decided that it was too much. Sitting around, waiting for her to throw him some crumb of feeling, other than coming to him every night for some strange sort of comfort or to "scratch an itch" (as he'd put it so many times); it had all become too much for even him to take.

When he reached the crypt, his fury was starting to get the better of him. He started to trash the upper level of the crypt, smashing the many glass liquor bottles sitting around, and overturning furniture. Finally  his feeling of blind rage settled into his gut, and felt a lot more like hurt and a broken heart than anything else. He got up and started packing his clothes in an old, worn out duffle bag he'd picked up somewhere along the way. He rummaged through his refrigerator and packed up all of the blood he had in the cooler that Dawn had given him, making a mental note of how long his stash would last before he needed to find more. Once he had all of his things packed, Spike took one last look around the crypt, and headed for his car.

He considered leaving a note for the Nibblet, saying good bye and trying to explain why he was leaving, but he thought it better to leave things as they were. It would probably be days before any of the Scoobies came looking for him anyway, and he thought that even if they came looking for him and found the note, he figured that they wouldn't give it to the Nibblet anyway.

So as the engine of his old Desoto roared to life, Spike headed down the highway without a look back, scoffing as he drove past the sign signaling his exodus from the place he'd called home for the better part of five years.

He drove for hours, always at night; not stopping until he realized that sunrise was peeking on the horizon. Only then would he stop and find shelter, usually in some seedy little dive of a place or in old abandoned buildings. He traveled like that for days, until the days stretched into weeks. Finally he reached New York, and with a fleeting thought he left his car in a storage garage and boarded a plane for England.

Touching down in London brought on strange thoughts for the vampire. This was where it all started, so many years ago. He hadn't been back to this place in so many years, too many to count in fact.  He spent several months in the old town, trying to avoid as much of the human and vampire population as he could, only fraternizing with either one to find a butcher that would sell him blood and bar that would serve him his libations. He managed to exist this way for almost a year, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop thinking of the Slayer he'd left behind in Sunnydale.

One night as Spike walked down the dark alleyway toward his favorite bar, his thoughts again drifted to Buffy. He had gotten better at controlling his thoughts of her, and allowing himself to miss her with out brooding. He never brooded, for fear of becoming the poncy poof that he hated so much. Before he knew what had hit him, quite literally, a large, hulking creature jumped from the shadows and smacked him up against the wall of the nearest building. Spike felt the stabbing nudge of a handgun, as the creature demanded that Spike give him all of his money. Before even thinking twice, Spike butted his head backwards, throwing the man off of him. He had gotten in several good punches, and slid into his game face, fighting off the creature with an ease that he hadn't felt in over a year. As he tackled his attacker to the ground and continued to pummel him, Spike finally noticed a vital fact that he couldn't believe he had over looked when he was first attacked. This creature, this hulking thing that held him at gunpoint and demanded his cash, was in fact a man. A common, everyday criminal that roamed the streets of London and preyed on weaker people in the night.

Spike stopped his assault and ran as fast as he could, his mind reeling with the knowledge that he hit this man in the alleyway with no pain from the chip. He didn't sleep at all the next day, turning the events over in his mind and trying to come up with some explanation. He needed answers, and that night when the sun set he went to the only place he knew where he could get those answers.

He went to see her Watcher.

Giles was shocked, to say the least, when he answered the door in his London flat to see Spike standing there, requesting entrance. Against his better judgment, Giles invited Spike in, wondering what led him to his door. Spike went in and took a seat, warily looking around the place and trying to assess whether or not Giles was going to stake him first and ask questions later.  He never imagined that Giles' first question would throw him so completely for a loop.

"Spike, does Buffy know you're here?"

"No, mate, and I can't imagine she'd care."

"So, you haven't talked to her lately, then? She has no idea that you're in London?"

"No. And I'd be ever so grateful if you didn't tell her. Like I said, I can't imagine that she'd care where I was, and I wouldn't want to bother her with this little "problem" of mine."

"Spike…"Giles started, wondering if he should tell Spike everything that he knew and send him on his way back to Sunnydale. "I think that if you just gave me a moment, I could make you understand that she really does…"

"The chip is broken." Spike interrupted, "And I need to know why."

"What did you say?" Giles implored, quickly deciding to not yet tell Spike about the daughter waiting for him in Sunnydale.

"I said the chip is broken. And don't go getting all wiggy on me mate, I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to know how and why it fizzled out."

Giles and Spike spent the next few days researching and trying to find any plausible explanation for why the chip had stopped working. Finally, the only explanation they could come up with was that the chip used on Spike by the initiative was a prototype, one not designed for long-term use. After a few calls to some contacts Giles still had in the states, he found out that was in fact the case. The Initiative had used prototype chips in their Sunnydale operation, planning in the long run to replace those chips with ones that would keep the demons subdued on a permanent basis.

Then came the more difficult work, of figuring out why Spike didn't want to go on a killing rampage now that the chip wasn't stopping him. Spike knew the answer, as did Giles, although for Spike's sake he pretended to need convincing. Spike's love for Buffy had changed him. He wanted to be better for her; deep down he wanted to be the man that she deserved, and his love for her consumed all that was ever evil about him, until there was nothing left but the way he felt about her.

+ + + + +

Giles helped Spike find his way in the world, making sure that he could cope with his new found freedom and stay on the right track. Several times he considered telling Spike about Maggie, or telling Buffy about Spike, but he always decided against it, not wanting to interfere with the plans of the two star-crossed lovers. He did feel bad, though, knowing that Buffy was looking for Spike, and that he didn't tell her where to find him.

Eventually, Spike moved on from London, traveling around England and doing more research. He tried to find ways that he could be of use to Buffy, other than just accompanying her on patrol, and trying to find ways to redeem himself in her eyes. He knew that she would likely always have a hang-up about him being a soulless vampire, but he hoped that by fighting for good and establishing some kind of reputation that she might one day see that he really had changed for her. He needed to make her understand that his love for her was real, and he hoped that one day she could find it in her heart to return his love.

Spike finally settled in a small town north of London, and continued his self-induced plight of redemption. Occasionally he would find text in a book or Giles would contact him with new information that led him to other places, places where he would be tested and tempted and where he always emerged victorious. Over the course of the four years he spent in England, his occasional travels took him to St. Petersburg, Madrid, Rome, Florence, and Paris. His thoughts always turned to Buffy in these places, always thinking how much he wished that he could show her these cities steeped in mystery and littered with evidence of their pasts.

When Spike turned up again on Giles' doorstep on a muggy day in early June, Giles was hardly surprised. It had been almost four years since Spike had come to him seeking answers, and a little over five since Spike had last seen Buffy. Spike came to him telling him that he thought he was finally ready to move on, and that he was moving back to the States. He never mentioned to Giles that he was actually going home to try and work things out with Buffy; not wanting to put the Watcher in the position of telling him if Buffy had moved on, or of alerting Buffy to his arrival. Spike simply thanked Giles for all of his help, and left England without  a second look.