AN: I apologize for the horrible formatting of the previous chapter (and lack of ~'s). Hopefully this will work better. Don't worry, loyal b/s fans, I haven't betrayed you *wink*. Keep R&R-ing, and enjoy!

            The Quiet

            "Big Patsy's Diner, how can we help you."

            "Hi. Um. I was wondering-er…I saw your add….in the newspaper…about the job…"

            "Yeah."

            "I was wondering if that was still available."

            "Yeah."

            "Ah." Buffy made a note on the paper with her pen. "Great. Do you think I could get and interview or…"

            She heard a snort over the line. "Interview. Sure. How about tomorrow, round noon?"

            "Ummm. Yeah. Sure…" Buffy juggled her various books and pens, looking for the notepad that she was writing down all her interviews on. Ah, there it was. "Yup. That works."

            "Good. See you then."

            Click.

            Buffy sighed and hung up the phone. This didn't exactly seem like a high-income job. Still, it was better than the spot at 'Dave's Hot House' she'd been offered. Complete with g-string.

            The apartment was quiet without Dawn. Too bad it wasn't one of those peaceful, nice quiets. Eerie quiet, maybe. Going on down right unnerving quiet. She walked over and turned on the TV. Started walking back across the room. And recognized the theme song. Passions. Great. She walked back over and turned it off.

            The radio. Yeah. That would help. She turned on the radio. She winced as the familiar Billy Idol song blasted out of the speakers. Maybe not the best idea. She turned off the radio.

            It was a nice day out. She's go for a walk. Yeah. Good idea. She went out the door, down the hallway. Suddenly, a door opened in her face. She stopped abruptly, but not without a minor nose/door collision.

            "Oh!" A hand reached out, catching her by the shoulder. "I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

            She looked up at this man. Blond man. Very blond. Roots showing. Oh, geez. "Yeah…" She turned and went back to her apartment. Locked the door.

            She stood with her back to the door, struggling to catch her breath. A shower, she thought. A nice, cold shower to clear me head. Of course.

            Into the bathroom. Off with the clothes. Nice, cool water against her skin. Yeah. Much better. She closed her eyes.

[He looked up at her, watching as she tried to cover herself with his jacket. He smirked.]

She whipped her eyes open. The showerhead stared back at her. Stupid Buffy. Stupid stupid stupid. She turned off the water. Shivered. It was cold here. So cold.

**** "Cold, love?" Spike smirked, stepping closer. Letting his hand trail over her terry cotton robe. Running it up to her neck. Her face. Pressing his lips softly to her cheek as his arm wrapped around her waist. Pulled her close. Kisses against her eyelids. Her neck. Let his hand drift down her back. Slowly. Always slowly. He purred in her ear, "Better, love?" ****

She shivered. Wrapped her robe tighter. She wasn't cold anymore.

She was getting a job, dammit. She was getting a home. She was moving on. Or at least trying to. Why are you haunting me? Even thinking about him hurt. And everything made her think of him. She came into the room, only to see the faintest apparition of him. She closed her eyes, felt those arms that she knew couldn't be around her. Enjoyed the quiet just because she could hear his words in it.

No. She couldn't do this. Couldn't wilt at every British phrase. Couldn't loose her mind over a bit of leather. Couldn't pick up smoking just because she liked the smell. Had to get over him.

But I don't want to. She stopped in the middle of the floor. Thought about it. Yeah. Why should she be all weepy whenever she thought of him? Just because he's gone doesn't mean I can't care.

She looked at the clock. Dawn would be getting home from school soon. Giles would be coming over. But for now, it was quiet. But not too quiet. Close your eyes. She imagined he was there, standing with her. Dancing with her. She rested her head againt his chest. Felt his hand caress the back of her neck. Just dancing.

The clock struck three. Buffy kept dancing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            The Sun had set. But it wasn't night. The sky was the most wonderful shade of crimson. The stars, not yet above us. The air, not yet cooled by the Moon's light breath.

It was quiet. Too quiet. The crickets weren't brave enough to come out just now. No stray cats fighting in the alley. No wolves howling at the moon. No-

WHUMP.

"…..ow."