***Well, people, here is part two of Conversations by Candlelight. Maybe this time, Spike and Buffy will actually talk. Of course, we know how good Buffy is about expressing her feelings…

***Much thanks to Annastasia for her shout out to me on the update of her Change Series fic. Imagine if that spell Spike wanted Willow to do for him in season three worked on a certain blond slayer instead…check out her fic to find out.

CHAPTER 19

Spike awoke to a light pressure on his chest. He forced his eyes open and chuckled at the sight of Buffy's two fingers 'walking' up the center of his body, her face hidden under the splay of her golden locks.

"Havin' fun, pet?" he asked, a hand automatically taking up residence in Buffy's unkempt hair. He felt her smile into his ribs. Good, he thought to himself. Poor girl hasn't had much to smile about, I reckon. And a swell of pride filled him knowing that he was the reason she was with the happies.

"So," came her muffled voice, "do you like work out or is all this lean muscle left over from your warm-blooded days?" Her head bobbed as his throaty laugh shook his body.

" William the bookworm, a chiseled morsel like this? Hardly! No, luv. It's definitely an addition from a hundred plus years of fighting. Kind of gets you in shape quick-like. S'not like you have a choice, 'specially when you 'ave to fight for you life every night."

"Well, serves you right for making delicacies of the locals," she teased, poking him playfully in the ribs.

"Hey. I'll have you know that if I hadn't taken bites from said delicacies, then yours truly would be right and shriveled right about now," he lowered his voice seductively, "and as you well know, pet, there isn't an inch on me that's shriveled in any way, shape or form." He traced her side with his fingers and observed the goose bumps that bubbled to the surface.

"'Sides," he finished, "wasn't talking bout the crowds, luv. Or the hunters." At that, Buffy scooted further down and rested her chin just above his abs where she could look him in the eye. Their eyes met and Buffy suppressed an involuntary shiver. What is it about him that always does that to me? She questioned herself. Truth be told, Buffy knew exactly what it was. For whatever reason, Spike was gifted in the art of seeing the truth in everything. Christ, he had done it with Angel, when she informed the then evil vampire that she and his sire were 'just friends'. It sounded good to her but he had ripped the blindfold she had so desperately notched over her eyes away, forcing her to face reality. And even now, months after her return trip to this…this place… he never failed to give her the unbridled truth, regardless of what she wanted to hear.

'You'll crave me like I crave blood…' she remembered him saying. And he was right, too. She did crave him, still did. Probably always would in some way. But she had fruitlessly tried convincing herself that it was a slip. A slip that was just as addictive as heroin or Willow's meteoric descent into the world of dark magic.

Just as dangerous, too, the voice (prude Buffy) reminded her.

Dangerous in what way? Carefree Buffy countered. Are you afraid of what he can do to you?

Of course. He's a vampire; I'm a slayer. Hence, mortal enemies.

But he's been able to hurt you for some time now, Carefree Buffy replied with confidence.

Yeah, but...prude Buffy's resilience faltered.

Or are you afraid of what he'll do if you give all of yourself to him?

Buffy snapped out of her internal diatribe as Spike's caress along the base of her neck elicited a sharp pang of desire. She moaned into his pale flesh, wanting nothing more than to once again feel him inside of her. But not now. She wanted to talk to him.

"So what were you talking about?" She offered. Yeah, a little pillow talk.

"What's that, luv?" he asked, his fingertips deftly stroking the flesh between her shoulder blades.

"When you said you had to fight every night." Buffy noticed Spike's lower jaw clench but waited patiently for an answer.

"S'not important, luv," he said, waving a dismissive hand in the air, "just your typical sire-childe relationship." He turned his head to the side but before he did, Buffy caught the flash of resentment pass through his eyes. She thought the better of pursuing that line of questioning. Buffy didn't really want her thoughts to dwell on her ex's relationship with her current boyfriend's. It was bordering on the…

Buffy gasped involuntarily and slammed her eyes shut as Spike whirled around to meet her gaze.

Did I just think of him as my 'boyfriend'? She asked herself incredulously. She rolled onto her back, covering her face with her small hands.

"Buffy?" Spike inquired, rolling over to his side. His chin rested casually in the palm of his hand, though his scowl was anything but. "What's wrong, pet?" He placed a tentative hand against the smooth muscles of her stomach, rubbing concentric circles around her navel.

Buffy gasped at Spike's cool touch, letting out a sound bordering between a moan and a grunt. Slowly, she slid her hands down her face, exposing her bright, wide eyes. She craned her neck to the left, wanting so much to avoid the acid gaze of the blond next to her but understanding that she couldn't run. She couldn't help but admire the sharp angles of his face nor his paradoxical stare. It was both hard and cold yet warm and filled with an immeasurable compassion. It was unfathomable to her how such a remorseless killer, ex-killer, could contain even a tenth of the love that stared back at her now.

Lowering her hands, Buffy lifted her head and grazed her lips ever so slightly against Spike's. As quickly as the kiss started, it ended and the blond vampire stared at the love of his life, perplexed. Not thirty seconds ago, he saw the dear-in-headlights look as she covered her face and he was terrified that she had regret what she had said to him earlier. Now, her green eyes twinkled with excitement and trepidation. He stroked the side of her face and she brought her free hand up, intertwining their fingers together, their hands coming to rest on her hip. Spike knew she wanted to say something by the way her lip quivered and her breath quickened. And of course, there was said look.

I can't do it again, he thought dejectedly. Once was enough. I can't hear it. I just can't.

"Spike…"

"Look, pet," he interrupted, anguish welling up within him, "you don't have to say it."

"Say what?" She asked. Buffy could see the change in Spike's demeanor. He had gone from concerned to the familiar look of hurt she was so often the cause of. Except this time, he didn't bother to hide it.

He sighed unnecessarily before continuing. "Look, Slayer. I know you were a right bit relieved when you didn't have to hoist a dirt devil over your shoulder to collect my remains." Buffy opened her mouth to speak but the vampire didn't give her a chance.

"You don't have to say it, ok?" He smiled weakly, tears playing at the corners of his eyes. "I know you feel something for me." And for the first time in all their conversations about their feelings, Spike lowered his eyes. His next words were so low that Buffy had to strain to hear them.

"But it's not love. It never will be. You were right; you can't love me. I'm nothing more than a soulless monster…" At his words, Buffy twisted her hand out of Spike's embrace. The first emotion that came to her, as it usually was with Spike, was anger. She had just bared as much of herself to him as she had ever done and here he was, dismissing it like it was nothing more than a flight of fancy for her. The anger was soon abated as a solitary tear tumbled down his pallid cheek. She covered her mouth to stifle a cry. He looked so defeated in front of her now. It couldn't be him. This was the indomitable William the Bloody, scourge of Europe. Feared by men and demons alike. This wasn't him. This wasn't the same man that withstood hours of torture by a hell-god to keep her little sister safe. This wasn't the Spike that never took no for an answer. That clawed and fought for every crumb. This couldn't be.

But it was. And the revelation that this was the same Spike, the same William the Bloody, only broken and hopeless, pierced her heart. And for the first time Buffy openly admitted to herself that she had been wrong about him.

He had fought by their sides for how long now? Two, three years? And though in the beginning, he was little more than a hired gun, the last year he had asked for nothing in return. Sure, he may have been a sarcastic and egotistical son of a bitch if there ever was one, but now she understood why. It was a shield; a buffer that was his only protection from the harsh reality of his situation. For over one hundred years he had only known one way to live. And to be violated, to have it taken away unwillingly had to have been devastating. Buffy didn't lament the fact that he couldn't kill anymore but she could relate to the pain, fear and purposelessness he undoubtedly felt. The Council tests on her 18th birthday had deprived her of her slayer strength. To have everything that she was ripped away, albeit for a short time, was beyond words. And she had been a slayer for two years. She couldn't imagine Spike's frustration, losing who he was after a century.

But he had adapted and though it was a gradual process, began to change. No longer did he fight the 'good fight' because demons were the only thing he could hurt. Though she knew he'd never admit it, Buffy could see the gleam of satisfaction after a night of slaying. Was it the violence, the bloodlust that satiated him? In all likely hood. But underneath it all, she saw a hint of someone proud that they were doing the right thing. The conflict raging inside of him between William the Man and his demon soul, having no moral compass to anchor the man had to be unbelievably hard. And what had she done when? Thrown it back in his face. You can't love. You can't change. You don't care. You are a monster. Every terrible thing she had said to him over the past few years was visible in his face. How hard must it be to know it is in your nature to revel in destruction yet go against that natural disposition? And to make the task infinitely harder, having those you respect and care for ridicule your attempts of reformation.

Buffy reached a trembling hand out, lifting his chin. The tears at the back of her throat burned, screaming for a release and when she looked into his eyes, she let them free. Though only a single tear had escaped its prison from his eyes, those still unshed where visible and Buffy knew he kept them at bay by force of will alone. She cursed herself for being such a fool to think that a few hours of actual lovemaking could erase the hurt and pain and uncertainty of two years. It was something that would take time.

The petite slayer ran her hands through the emotionally wounded vampire's hair. Every so slowly, with a strong gentleness, Buffy pulled Spike closer to her. At first he resisted, but the determination in her eyes forced him to concede. She craned her neck to the side and kissed his parted lips. Too lost in his own misery, Spike didn't return Buffy's probing. A part of him sensed the urgency in her languid exploration of his lips, as if she were so desperately trying to tell him something. But the other part of him, the William part saw her tenderness as pity. Pity at how her scathing words would undoubtedly burn him beyond any semblance of the man…or monster he was.

He tensed when she released his lips, her tongue tracing a final outline of them before he lost contact. Buffy saw the wretched pain in his eyes and she knew he was waiting for her customary send off. What would it be this time? His eyes voiced. She closed her eyes in hopes of wiping the mask of hopelessness he now wore from her mind. But it was impossible. And Buffy knew that no matter what, the memories of his pain would forever stay with her.

Slowly, Buffy's eyes fluttered open and Spike refused to turn away this time. The least I can do is make her look me in the eye when she does it, he thought, rousing up an anger he didn't feel. Usually, a scorn from Buffy ignited the fury of his demonic tenant. But now, even the demon was silent, loathing to come out and bask in the torment of being ridiculed by love yet again.

How many times had she told him he was nothing? How many times had she bid him to leave? Yet he never did. And he never lost faith in one day winning her over. Until now. When she asked him to make love to her, Spike had been grateful that he was in fact dead. Were he human, his heart would have undoubtedly seized up from sheer joy. Though most people would think otherwise, every time they were intimate, no matter the setting, no matter the urgency, he was making love to her. But to finally have her initiate it, was all that he had hoped for. On the way back to the crypt, Spike knew that there was no turning back. No shags of 'convenience' or kisses of comfort. It was all or nothing and for a moment Spike had foolishly believed it could work. But this was Buffy; he should have known better.

At least she has the guts to tell me to my face, he mused. He wanted so much to yell and scream, get lost in his anger, to hide the hurt. But it just wasn't in him.

"Spike," Buffy said as calmly as he ever heard her speak. "I know the way I've treated you-the way we've treated each other-over the past three years has been anything but healthy. And though for awhile we were both at fault, it's been me who's been the bad guy for the past year or so…"

"Buffy," he said but she held her hand up.

"Please. Just let me do this…William," Spike froze at the mention of his former name. She had only called him that once and that was when…

Spike shut his eyes tight and nodded for her to continue. She curled her petite hand around his thumb and pulled his arm toward her. Spike instinctively opened his eyes when her hammering heart vibrated against his knuckles. Her eyes were so serious. Well, here comes the coup de grace. He was thrown off by an irony-tinged smile. Before he could speak, Buffy answered Spike's 'what the bleedin hell is goin' on?' scowl.

"It's just that I don't know where to begin. For as long I as I've been the slayer, it's been black and white. Vampire bad. Me vampire slayer. Me kill vampire. Of course I then fall in love with a vampire," she sensed his body tense but pressed on, "but there was a legitimate excuse. Said vampire has soul. Unique, one in a million thing. I should have known then everything wasn't black and white. But I hid in that little shell of mine that denies entrance of anything Buffy doesn't want to deal with. And for awhile, it stayed simple." She smiled wistfully and Spike couldn't help but return it, albeit lacking his usual vibrancy.

"That's when you came to me when I really needed it. I never would have been able to stop Angelus without you," she let the thanks pour from her eyes but continued on. "You were so different than any other vampire I had met. You were as unique as Angel was with his soul," Buffy waited for a biting retort but the vampire remained shockingly silent. It must be really bad, she thought sadly.

"At first I didn't know what it was. Then with the chip and everything you were no longer my mortal enemy. Even when you started helping us- for a price, of course," that light barb actually elicited a genuine smirk, "I didn't realize what it was. I knew you could love. Well," she conceded, "maybe not then. It was all 'irrational Buffy' when it came to you. Of course, the rational part of me, which is quite small at times, was shouting how if you had feelings you could love just as well as us. I mean, you were with Dru for what? A hundred years. If that's not devotion, I don't know what is. Of course, chaining me to the wall in your crypt didn't exactly help your case, either." Spike smiled but it failed to reach his eyes. In any other situation, he would have interrupted her at least three times. But the symphonic ache in his chest stilled his tongue.

"Anyway," Buffy said. She had told him to let her talk but since when had he listened to her? It was disconcerting to see him this quiet. "But you were there when we needed you and even though I didn't see you as a friend then, you were somebody I could count on. Obviously, since I had my mom and little sister set up shop with you. It was so weird then. I knew I shouldn't trust you. And I didn't." She paused, biting her lower lips as she wrestled to make sense of the contradiction. Why is it that everything having to do with Spike is a contradiction? She sighed, unable to put it into words any more eloquently than, "but I did. Trust you." She lowered her eyes from his sculpted cheeks and busied herself by tracing her fingers over his knuckles.

Spike watched his slayer's…no, the slayer's, fingers glide across his skin. Even his despondent frame of mind couldn't ignore the warmth that coursed through him at her slightest touch. He had been dead for two lifetimes and in two years; this beautiful woman beside him had all but caused his heart to beat. He thanked Drusilla inwardly. If it weren't for her immortal kiss, he would have never had the chance to truly feel as alive as he did now.

He inhaled deeply, the effervescent scent of Buffy enrapturing his heightened senses. She was intoxicating, in every way. He couldn't imagine life-or unlife-without her. There would be nothing left for him to do in this world but to whither away, returning to the earth he should have been interred in for the last eighty years.

Spike reached out instinctively, delicately brushing a stray lock from Buffy's forehead and tucking it behind her ear. The intimacy was not lost on either one of them and then tension between the two lovers rose tenfold.

Buffy was the first to recover. "Ummm…" albeit not much of a recovery. Don't think about the beautiful, sexy eyes of vampire, she coached herself. She had to finish what she was saying and the start of another snogging session with Spike wouldn't be kosher right now.

"Spike," she said, giving his hand what she was hoping was a reassuring squeeze. His features practically fell from his face.

"Oh, right. Sorry, slayer," he apologized. Buffy couldn't help but wince at the emotional void of his voice.

"Promise me something?"

"Seems promises are the only thing I'm good for," he said without malice. Buffy chose to ignore it and waited for him, determination creeping into the green mirrors of her eyes. "I promise," he finally answered.

"Don't make anymore assumptions until you finish hearing what I have to say." She waited until he gave her a curt nod. "Why is it so difficult?"

"What?" he asked, intrigued.

"Everything. You, my friends, being the slayer. This whole damn world." She couldn't hold back the tears that slowly leaked from her eyes. She didn't care about being strong as long as she said her peace.

"Luv," Spike soothed, his hand automatically reaching out to her. He stopped before his thumb reached her cheek, quickly propping his head up by the offending hand. "Buffy, everything about this world is hard. That's not gonna change."

"I know that…it was just so much easier when…"

"When what?" he couldn't keep the rising heat from his voice. If she was heading where he thought she was…

"When it was just black and white. When demons were all soulless monsters…" He snorted, interrupting her.

"Oh, you mean when you didn't have to make the tough decisions? When everything just fell neatly into place? News flash, pet: it doesn't work like that. Shit gets hard and you have to make…" his voice faltered momentarily before he continued, "you have to make decisions that are best for you and your lot. That's all you can ask of yourself, luv."

Buffy took in his words. He was right. All she could ask of herself was to make the best decision she could with whatever information she had. The only question was how did she make those decisions. Did she use her head or her heart?

Suddenly, Buffy didn't want to continue the conversation. There was still so much she hadn't said but it was all too difficult to get out.

"We better get home," she said, getting off the bed, searching for her clothes. If it had been any other time, the mere thought of Buffy's tan flesh highlighted by candlelight would have been sufficient to engorge him with desire. As it was, he only rolled his eyes in disgust unaware of the derisive snort that ushered from him throat.

Buffy heard Spike's dissatisfaction and mentally chided herself. Great job, Buffy. At least you're sticking to your forte. When the goin' gets tough, Buffy gets goin'. She angrily hoisted up her pants after getting a new pair of panties from her black bag.

By the time she had slid her thin arms through her jacket, Spike was already outside. Thin wisps of smoke floated through the open door of the crypt along with the pungent odor of tobacco. She walked out and saw Spike leaning against the cool wall of the crypt. He was going for casual but she had been around him enough to read his body language. And now it was telling her that it was riddled with tension. He was like a rubber band stretched to its capacity. Either you had to let it go or it was going to pop you. Of course, rubber bands didn't have teeth. Or a demonic temper.

When Buffy came into his peripheral view, the blond vampire took one more puff and tossed the fag away, extinguishing it with a turn of his heel. He stalked off with his usual cockiness though he felt anything but.

To her credit, Buffy felt more than her share of guilt. She had wanted to tell him so much but as usual, she hid behind her insecurities. What insecurities should you have with Spike? Rational Buffy asked incredulously.

Hello, he's male. Prude Buffy retorted.

The same male that loved you unconditionally. Even when you were dead Carefree Buffy reminded.

But he's a vampire. A soulless monster, prude Buffy pleaded.

The same vampire that maintained his promise to protect your sister and is also her best friend. And would do anything for her…

But he's a vampire. He doesn't have a soul, prude Buffy pled without conviction.

And despite that, he has loved you purer than any other man you have known…

The last thought hung in the air as Buffy scurried to catch up with Spike's long strides. Oblivious to her internal turmoil, Spike sauntered through the graveyard wishing…

Wishing that he had never come to Sunnydale.

Wishing that he had never come back to Sunnydale.

Wishing that the sodding chip was never put into his head.

Wishing Buffy had staked him in her various opportunities.

Wishing he had never fallen in love with the slayer.

Wishing that she had never kissed him. Maybe then his sick fascination with her would have slowly dissipated without the heat of her lips re-igniting his internal flame of love for her.

Wishing that she hadn't have come back wrong.

Wishing the stupid gits earlier hadn't missed. If the wood had only entered him a few inches to the left…

So caught up in his thoughts, Spike was unaware of the fidgeting slayer walking next to him. Only when the warmth of her hand wrapped around his cold fingers was he lifted from his brooding. He stopped in his tracks, running the free hand through his tousled locks. Though he was hesitant to do so, Spike's gaze finally drifted over to the angelic face of the slayer. And that was all it took to let him know that every sacrifice, every painful lurch in his stomach, was worth it. And if he died right then and there, he would die a content man.

Buffy was not oblivious to the façade of the blond vampire crumbling from a resigned despair to unbridled love. It was enough to make her cry again but she stilled her undulating emotions.

You've cried your quota for the next six months, Buff, she warned herself. She hesitantly looked up at the blue orbs that stared back at her, expectantly. Wouldn't be surprised if he were reading my mind right now. However his gaze unnerved her, it gave her a bit of confidence. Don't think, just act. And with that, Buffy kissed him.

Shocked by her actions, Spike stood incredibly still. Guess this is the goodbye kiss, mate. Might as well enjoy it. Several seconds later, his body consented to his final thoughts and his tongue danced with hers ever so slowly. It was like before, when they had made love in the forest. The same burning tenderness that had given him a sliver of hope that she just might want him. But that hope was as scant as a fleck of meat was to a starving man. The hunger became even more pronounced after the taste and only complete satiation would obliterate the emptiness.

His free hand caressed her curved hips as hers did the same. She maintained a vicious hold onto his other hand as they explored one another's clothed forms as best they could. The heat between them was rising as Buffy moaned into his mouth. Seconds later, she broke the kiss, despite vehement protestations by her flesh.

"Spike," she started but stopped, covering her mouth with her free hand. Spike rolled his eyes and made to get away but was pulled back sharply by the slayer.

"Hey! You can dislocate a bloke's arm that way, luv," he said, needlessly massaging his shoulder.

"I need to tell you…"

"Tell me what? Tell me that it was fun while it lasted but it's time for me to get out into the real world? You've had your fill of me; I've scratched those itches of yours enough to last a bloody lifetime. What? My 'convenience' you were so kind to point out is too much trouble?"

"Damn you, Spike," she said, anger simmering within her. She balled her fist up though, still held onto his hand with the other one.

Spike saw the fist and smirked. "What? I say something you don't wanna hear and you take your jollies on pounding good ol' reliable Spike into the ground? Go ahead," he lifted his chin. "And don't forget to tell me how you'll never be my girl because I'm a soulless monster who can't love you. Who's disgusting and evil," Spike couldn't hide the hurt behind his words and Buffy heard them loud and clear. And for once, her anger was completely abated without violence.

Spike watched as Buffy's face melted from seething anger to…compassion? Empathy? Remorse? Pity?!

At the thought of pity, Spike grunted his disgust before continuing. "Oh, what? Feeling sorry for the Big Bad, luv? Well, don't. I'm a monster, remember? If this bloody chip ever came out, I'd tear the sodding Scoobies apart," his eyes drifted to the sky in contemplation. "And you know, I'd think I start with the bit. She's all trusting. Could bring her back to the crypt, show her firsthand how I got the name Spike," he shouted. He hid any indications of self-disgust at even the thought of hurting Dawn. He'd drink a fifth of holy water before he ever harmed a hair on her head. And from the look on her face, Buffy wasn't buying it either.

"Thank you." She said simply. His eyebrows furrowed at the sincerity of her words, in spite of what he had just said.

"Thank you? For what?"

"For everything. For being there for Dawn this summer. For helping the gang out, saving their lives. For…" her eyes retreated to the now interesting ground. Again, coward Buffy to the rescue.

Spike kept silent, hovering on her every syllable. Something told him that this was important but as she looked away, the old resentment threatened to consume him once again. She doesn't need that. All you'll do is put her on the defensive, mate. What she needs is encouragement. And with that, Spike gently squeezed Buffy's hand.

She immediately looked up at her lover, unexpectedly. The tug of his fingers against hers had prevented her walls from tethering themselves around her emotions. Butterflies began their familiar migrations in the pit of her stomach as the warmth of his smile enveloped her. Buffy's heart entered a sprint of its own volition and her breaths came in ragged gasps before she willed herself to be calm. She closed her eyes, fear welling up in every pore with only the cool anchor that was Spike's hand preventing her from bolting out into the night like she had so many other nights with him.

"I wanted to thank you for…for being my friend." She had said the words without thinking and before he could react, she hugged him. No kisses were exchanged yet everything she could have said with her lips was spoken through her body as she wrapped her arms around Spike's slim waist.

The vampire was in more than shock. She had never hugged him like this before. In fact, earlier tonight had been the only time he could remember her hugging him. Dawn was the only one that did it regularly. Suffice to say the vampire was not quite experienced in the art of a loving embrace such as this. He slung an arm awkwardly around her shoulders, drawing in her scent with every unneeded breath he took. He was lost in the vanilla fragrance of her when she pulled away. He wanted to protest at the lack of contact, until her hand once again found his. This time, she intertwined her fingers between his. Then smiled shyly.

"I should have done that a long time ago. I'm sorry it took me so long to show my gratitude," she said sheepishly.

"No worries, luv. 'Twas worth the wait." They stood in a slightly uncomfortable silence before Spike recommended they continue their journey back to Revello Drive. He was pleasantly surprised at Buffy's silent insistence to hold his hand on the way and he couldn't help but smile.

Don't get your hopes up, mate. You know it's over after this anyway. She's gonna have a kid by the poof. So what hope is there of you except to play the surrogate big brother again?

It wasn't until they were halfway there that Buffy had worked up the courage to finish what she had wanted to say earlier.

"I also wanted to tell you," she said without breaking stride or taking her eyes off the road in front of her, " that I'm glad."

"Glad for what, luv?" Spike asked, trying to keep the same indifference as her.

"Glad that you love me," she cast a hesitant smile in his direction and was almost blinded by the luminescence of his smile. He quickly shifted into his usual smirk though he couldn't hide the faint glow that permeated from his body. Buffy knew that it wasn't going to be enough in the long run but it was a start. Baby steps, Buffy, baby steps, she comforted herself, happy that she had made the vampire's day.

All his bravado had come crashing down with Buffy's last words. Spike knew that it was a long way from professing her undying love…still. Maybe there was a chance for them after all.

The vampire didn't try to curb his new surge of hope. He just let it ride as they walked the rest of the way in a decidedly comfortable silence.

***Sorry it took so long, but I had a lot to say. Buffy just seems to skate around the issue at every opportunity, doesn't she? Well, maybe one day, everything will get set straight.

***I have a wedding to go to Saturday and two nieces to take shopping Sunday but hopefully I can get the next chapter done Saturday night. But no promises though.

***Make sure to read and review. Constructive criticism is also welcome. It'll only help me get better. Or questions you have, ask away. I'll try my best to answer them without giving away anything.

***As I said before, next chapter Then & Now, will be similar to some chapters with Faith that transitioned between the present and future.

***After that, Willow and Tara get to The Truth of the Matter from Faith.

***Did I tell you how much I looooove reviews???