Author's note: I always like to think that there were a few moments between Buffy and Spike where she couldn't delude herself and ignore the man in front of her. Of course, she'd always deny it afterwards, but I like the idea of her having to face her own lie occasionally and being powerless to her feelings….even momentarily.

Thanks for your reviews. My responses – Of course Spike is going to try to agree with Buffy and rationalize her speech. He always makes an attempt to convince himself that she's right. Somewhere inside he believes that she is better than him. It won't be until he realizes that he is her equal that they can truly come to terms with what's between them. IMHO

Enjoy!

Chapter Two - Contact

Buffy didn't say much after showing Willow the vision. There wasn't much to be said and Willow left the room with a wan smile, after they'd sat in silence for what must have been an hour. She said nothing about the sea of uber vamps, the flames. Nothing about the demon the shaman had tried to 'introduce' her to. Nothing about motivational speech #666. What was there to say?

Yeah, she had come down hard on everyone, but she's wasn't a motivational speaker. Their only real motivation was fear. If fear didn't motivate everyone into action then she'd use shame...or anger. It was fuzzy.

She is fuzzy. Still reeling from her 'journey through the portal. Still wondering if willow was right, but secretly suspecting that it isn't...she isn't enough.

Buffy remembers of all of their faces as she laid into them, looking at her like she was the biggest bitch on the planet. And she was, right then. She had to be. But they don't understand.

Kennedy...a little girl with a big mouth.

At that thought she smiled a little, remembering all of the times she'd stood, flat footed, challenging Giles in the library over his 'wait and research' methods when all she wanted to do was go out and kick some demon ass.

She thinks of all of them, but she doesn't think about him. She can't bring herself to think of what she'd said to Spike...and in front of the others. She'd surprised herself, she was so convincing. But...whatever it took. Right? Whatever it took.

And he took it as she knew he would. The pain etched across his face, masked by the anger and incredulity at her words, she saw it and still she held up her front.

"Didn't know I had it in me" she says with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

She draws her knees up under her chin, closes her eyes and decides to take a mental vacation. The stress is beginning to tear her to the quick, and she needs a release, but none is in sight.

Willow's quick lesson in 'meditation-vacations' had taught the slayer how to let go and "float away." If only for a little while. Who knew that one day it would be her only means of escape.

"It's easy, Buff, you just pick a place or a time when you were happy and you go there. Just close your eyes and go."

No biggie. She can do this. She closes her eyes and drifts backwards to an evening she'd almost forgotten.

It was the one 'normal' night she and Spike had had in their whole, twisted...whatever it was. Okay, she knew what it was, but she's not fessing up now. Nope.

It was...so not a normal night, actually, but it's what made her...made her not hate him so much. It made her want to know more about him.

She'd been patrolling and her heart really wasn't in it. After a few lesser-demons unwarily crossed her path, she'd wandered along until she saw him. He was crouched down in the cemetery, not far from his crypt, in front of a little girl. At first, her temper flared and she grasped her stake ready to take off towards them, but something told her to watch for a moment. He was chipped, after all, and they weren't too far away.

The little girl was crying. She couldn't have been more than 6 years old, the black ringlets of her ponytail bouncing as her tiny shoulders shook with sobs. Buffy stood mesmerized as she watched Spike take out a hankie...a hankie!...and dry the little girl's face. Her caramel cheeks reddened from her emotional state. He was so gentle, Buffy almost forgot whom she was watching.

He brushed a few wisps of curls out of the little girl's eyes and spoke to her in a voice so soft, Buffy couldn't even hear it as she approached slowly behind him. The little girl seemed to settle down at his words, though, and Buffy even thought she saw a little smile playing on her lips. It faded when the girl saw the slayer approaching behind him and fresh tears began to fall from her chestnut brown eyes.

"Shhh. 's okay, she's a friend," he reassured her, as Buffy stood next to him. He didn't even look up.

"She'll help us find your mum, ok?" he said, drying her face again. Buffy wondered if the girl noticed his icy cold hands. She didn't seem to. She was just staring at him, wordlessly pleading, innately trusting that he would help her. She knew what the little girl was seeing, though, in those eyes of his that were like the ocean. That spark of humanity that had somehow managed to survive despite over a century of brutality. The spark that she had always vehemently denied was there, though it was undeniable really...soul or no soul. But Buffy wasn't ready to turn her ideas of right and wrong upside down. It was just the chip.

She stood there for a few moments before she realized she hadn't said anything to either or them. She smiled at the little girl, hoping to put her at ease. The girl did smile, then. Spike then looked up at Buffy and she noticed the panic in his eyes.

"We'll find your mother" Buffy said to the girl, though her eyes never left his. He stood up, and taking the girl's hand he started walking.

An eerie calm seemed to overtake the three of them as they walked through the cemetery. What on earth was a little girl doing in a cemetery alone, Buffy thought to herself, and then asked out loud.

"She came to find her mother," he said quietly, still staring ahead. He looked at the girl and then to Buffy. She didn't even have to ask, she knew what he was saying. The girl's mother was dead, buried somewhere in this cemetery and the child had come looking for her. Buffy swallowed hard, to stop the tears that threatened. To lose a mother is hard enough when you're 21, but when you're 6...she couldn't even imagine.

"W-what's your mommy's name, sweetie?" she asked as gingerly as she could.

"Laura." the child replied, her voice was steady, but small, her head down as she tread through the thick grass.

"Laura Hughes," Spike added softly. "She's been 'ere two days, apparently." He looked at Buffy. They both knew what they would find. A fresh grave, the earth still soft, still brown. She turned her head and scanned the landscape. Spike did the same, as they walked. The child kept her head down, not daring to look for her mother.

As the three of them mounted a small hill, Buffy spotted a mound of unsettled earth near a tall cypress tree. She reached out to squeeze Spike's arm and he followed her gaze to the spot. They walked towards it slowly. The girl broke away from Spike's hand and walked ahead. She knelt down in front of a stand that held a photo of a striking woman, perhaps 32, with jet black hair, skin like milk chocolate and old, old eyes. The same eyes as the little girl's. Buffy followed the child to the spot, but Spike held back a bit. When Buffy realized he hadn't approached with them, she turned to look back at him.

She was shocked to see the tears, the unmistakable expression of grief for this woman he hadn't known. The child knelt in front of the picture and began to speak to it, softly. Buffy placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder and then walked back to Spike. His gaze was fixed on the woman's photo, but it broke as Buffy came into his sightline.

"Did you know her?" she asked. He nodded no. "Then why..." she felt it wrong to ask, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Why are you..."

"She's so young," he interrupted, knowing what she was asking. "To lose her mum...she's too bleedin' young." He looked past Buffy at the girl, his vampiric hearing picking up the strains of her melodic voice as she spoke to her mother about the days since she'd gone away. His tears fell unchecked now. Buffy instinctively reached up to cup his face in her hand and he jumped, as if she'd struck him. He looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Buffy" was all he could say. And all she could do was wrap her arms around him and give him comfort, for the first time, she held him to comfort him. She treated him as if he was hurting. As if he could feel. As if he were human.

At first, he only stood there, arms down, leaning his head on her shoulder, but he slowly wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and silently wept. Buffy couldn't believe that there was so much man in this monster. How many children had he orphaned with his evil, insatiable thirst, over the years? How many widows did he create? Widowers? How many parents had survived their own children because of his blatant disregard for human life? Yet, here he was, soulless and all, weeping for a mother and a child he didn't even know. Perhaps it brought back some distant memory, she thought. But she didn't ask. They stood that way for what seemed like forever, but it was only a few moments.

He lifted his head and looked again at the child kneeling before her mother's portrait, talking to her as she idly plucked fragile blades of grass from the thick green carpet of the cemetery. He was still looking at the child when Buffy raised her eyes to scan his face. He didn't notice, lost in thought. Buffy wondered where he was. His guard was down. Gone was any trace of the smirking smart-ass she'd come to...tolerate. She could almost see the poet, the way he gazed at the little girl. Her hand, moving of it's own volition, reached up and wiped some of the wetness from his cheek. *So cold,* she thought. So dead.

Spike looked down at her, finally. The warmth from her hand invaded the chill of his skin. His face was the picture of compassion. She'd never seen anything like that coming from him before. She was...she was moved. Staring into her, he wrinkled his brow a bit. Her eyes drifted up to it and then to his hair, his mouth, and back to his eyes. Her hand never left his face. He looked wounded, like a lost child. She brought his face to hers and kissed him softly on the mouth. His perfect lips that, even chilled with death, were so soft and yielding.

Breaking the kiss, he stared at her, his eyes confused and questioning. She could almost see the thoughts running through his mind. His focus shifted from the little girl to woman in front of him. She could see the hope, and that's when she realized she'd make a mistake. She'd given him hope. She knew he would cling to it, and she didn't want him to. There was no hope for them. They were...what they were. Nothing more. Not ever. No matter how much she...

She turned from him abruptly and she could've sworn she'd heard his breath catch in his throat. *Why does he breathe?* She thought to herself as she turned her gaze towards the little girl.

"We should take her home," she said softly. "I'm sure someone's really wigging out that she's not home." Buffy reluctantly turned back to look at Spike. She was only momentarily surprised to find that he'd gone. She turned back and walked over to the girl.

"C'mon, sweetie," she said as she reached out her hand to her. "Let's get you home. I'm sure you can come back and visit your mom again soon." The child looked up at Buffy and reached for her hand. Buffy brushed the grass from the girl's clothing and put on her best smile. They walked slowly towards the main gate of the cemetery.

"Where do mommies go, when they die?" The girl's voice was a little less steady now. Buffy's heart sank.

"I think – " she started. "I think they go to heaven." She thought of her mother and fought the dull pain that came with that thought. She realized, suddenly, that they were walking towards the place where they'd laid her own mother down to rest. The girl was silent, perhaps contemplating Buffy's word with a child's ardor. Buffy found it too hard to find words, especially as they approached her mother's plot and she saw the familiar form of Spike kneeling there. The girl slipped away and ran over to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't cry," she said to him as she patted him. "Your mommy's in heaven too."

Spike looked at the child as if she'd slapped him or spat at him. Buffy became uneasy and walked over to them guiding the girl away from him.

"Spike." He looked up at Buffy and something glassed over his eyes. They were wild and dark.

"Buffy.." he struggled for unnecessary breath. "Take. Her. Home." With that he took off running, so fast that the breeze from his duster reached her long after she'd lost sight of him.

"Poor Spike," the little girl said. "He lost his mommy too." Buffy look down at the girl and only then did she notice that she was shivering, her thin sweater not enough of a barrier against the night air. She took the child by the hand and left the cemetery.

It was fortunate that the little girl, Amanda was the name she announced to, and then correctly spelled for, Buffy was so bright. Her parents had made her commit her address to memory. Buffy felt a great sense of relief when she approached the door of the picturesque home. Every light in the building must have been on, it was so bright, and she could see people milling about inside. She knelt down in front of Amanda.

"Well, looks like home," she said smiling into the girl's eyes. Amanda wrapped her tiny arms around Buffy's neck and hugged her tight. No fear in her whatsoever, the sadness gone.

"Your mommy's in heaven too, Buffy," Amanda said as she pulled away. Buffy was too stunned to respond, the shock of her sadness too much for the moment. She flashed a thin smile at the girl and quickly rang the doorbell. A man came to the door, tall, thin, average build. His small features in stark contrast to the shock of curly black hair that sprouted from his head. Hair like Amanda's. He was clutching the phone to his ear.

"Yes?" He said to Buffy, his courtesy strained by his recent loss and the worry for his daughter. Buffy stared at him open-mouthed for a moment and then looked down at Amanda's smiling face. The man's gaze followed Buffy's and he dropped to his knees in front of the girl, clutching her to him a little too tightly. The girl's small voice complained.

"Oh...GOD...GOD GOD GOD!!!" he chanted. "Amanda!" He released her long enough to look her over and then grabbed her to him again. His fears were released in a torrent of tears and incomprehensible words as he lifted his daughter and stood before Buffy. Voices from inside came closer as other family members came to the door. Exclamations of relief were all around as hands reached over the father's shoulder to touch the child. Buffy stood an uncomfortable spectator to the reunion.

A family. A *big* family. She wanted to smile, it didn't come.

Amanda turned her head to her, fighting the sleep from her eyes.

She smiled, and then Buffy smiled back.

"Thank you," the father said to Buffy. "Thank you so very much, you don't know...you have no idea..." His words faltered as he clutched the child closer.

"She wanted to see her mother," Buffy said to him quietly, embarrassed by the gratitude in his eyes. He nodded in understanding. Buffy raised her hand and bid a small wave to Amanda. She smiled at the father and turned to leave.

"Bye bye Buffy," the child's voice rang like a bell in her ears. She turned back.

"Bye Amanda" She walked quickly away. Her legs carried back to the cemetery, without any thought at all. She found herself in front of the crypt. She wasn't sure what to expect, or whether he'd be there, but she was, what...worried? The door was open slightly, so she slipped in.

"I knew you'd get her home all safe like," the voice came out of the darkness.

"Spike?" she tiptoed in. "What's going on with you?" She called upon her spidey senses to help her find him in the black of the room. She caught the faint glimmer of something pearl-like. She peered and moved in that direction. Slowly she realized that they were teeth. Spike's teeth and that he was smiling.

"Spike." She said again, this time there was a touch of annoyance in her voice that she hadn't meant at all. "What's up?"

"Nothin' pet," his voice was low. "Sorry if I frightened you." The room filled with shadows as he took out his lighter and lit a few candles. "Better?"

"Better," she said, coming down from her guard. She hadn't even noticed that she'd been on guard since she'd entered. She studied him, as she slowly approached and stood before him. He looked calmer, better than before. More like...Spike. He stared into her, as if reading her thoughts.

"I'm all better now, luv," he said smiling broadly, but there was a sadness behind it. "Again...sorry 'bout that...'bout earlier. Just bad memories." She smiled despite herself. Knew it couldn't have been anything more. Had to be something other than what it looked like. Still, bad memories mean bad feelings and feeling, well...that just wasn't possible was it? Was it?

"Well, if you need to talk," did those words actually come out of her mouth?

He laughed softly at the invitation.

"S' alright, pet," he grinned. "Wouldn't want to shatter your perception of the 'big bad.'" He smirked. Yeah, he was back to himself. She didn't have the courage to ask him what was really going on, so she walked over and sat beside him on the cold stone.

"That was a good thing, you did." He looked at her quizzically.

"Come again?"

"The little girl...staying with her. Looking out for her. Not biting her?"

He laughed again. "Sod off."

"I mean it. That was...a good."

He ducked his head and nudged her with his shoulder. "Yeah, just don't let it get out. I got a rep to protect."

She laughed out loud.

They sat that way for a while, side by side, both lost in thoughts neither wanted to share. Or perhaps they'd both wanted to share but weren't aware of it. Either way, Spike had broken the silence by hopping off of the stone slab and turning on the television.

"Anything on?" Buffy half-heartedly inquired.

"Nope. Not a bloody thing" he uttered in mock-disgust.

"Figures," she replied. They both smiled. She tried to remember when she'd ever seen him genuinely laugh. She somehow felt a pang of pride that she'd been the cause of uplifting his mood.

"Wanna patrol?" she nudged him a bit.

"Nah," he stretched. "Not up for the ole rough an' tumble tonight, luv." She turned to him with a perfect expression of false disbelief on her face.

"You?" she implied suggestively.

"Well..." he countered. "If you're offerin'" He jumped up and extended his hand to her. She took it and hopped down. However, instead of jumping into one of the brutal mating rituals that often encompassed their nightly escapades, they just settled onto the couch and Buffy allowed Spike to wrap his arms around her. They watched television for a while. Spike smelled Buffy's hair, something he did often when he'd thought she was asleep.

"It is Vanilla," she said to him, causing him to start a little at being caught.

"Thought so," he said as he resumed. "So, you're not always asleep then?" She shook her head.

"Not usually." She turned to look at him and there it was...the spark. Contact. It was...it was overwhelming! Buffy felt herself gazing into those eyes again...my God had anything ever been so blue...and she shifted uncomfortably in his embrace, suddenly feeling confined.

"Slayer?" He reluctantly released her and watched as she prepared to go.

"It's late," she argued pitifully. "I have to get Dawn up for school in the morning."

"Right," he replied sullenly, defeated, sinking back into the couch.

Buffy turned to go but stopped; her back to him. She was frozen for a moment, and he could see her shoulders rising and falling with uneven breaths. He heard her heartbeat racing.

"Spike," she breathed his name.

She didn't have to say anymore, he rose from the couch and spun her around, hands brushing through her hair, lips brushing across her mouth. No, it wasn't the brutal mating ritual that had come to be their routine, it was something...she didn't know...something-

TBC