CRADLE

Disclaimer, etc. as on first chapter.

A/N: Long chapter this time. And I realised this is going to be one humongous fic when it's done, but, then again, I never do anything by halves ;) Buffy angst this time, and even some S/B fluff (ish) to keep you all going… As this uses some lines from 'the bathroom incident' and I'm not entirely sure they're right, any reviews telling me where/if I went wrong would be appreciated.

Cradle

Chapter Six

Inside the restaurant, the Scoobies had put all their problems behind them for the moment, and were just enjoying each other's company. After an hour or so, with the whole gang feeling very full up and yearning for their comfy beds, the time came for Giles to pay. He sent everyone out to the car so as not to incur arguments about the bill; if they saw it, he knew they'd want to pay their share, and none of them could afford it. In all honesty, he shouldn't have spoilt them like he had, but it seemed to have done a world of good to them all.

The group began to file out to the car, chattering. Willow was hanging onto Xander protectively, her arm linked with his, and Dawn bounced ahead of them. Buffy brought up the rear, but turned around halfway and returned to the table.

"Something wrong, Buffy?" he asked, indicating for the waiter to bring over the bill.

"Nope." She sat down in Willow's vacated seat, opposite her ex-Watcher. "Just wanted to thank you for doing this. I think it's what everyone needed."

"Um… yes."

Buffy, somewhat oblivious to his awkwardness, carried on. "And did you see Willow? I haven't seen her that happy in so long. It feels so nice to have everyone together again." When she received no answer from him, she peered at him. He appeared to be lost in thought. Waving a hand in front of his eyes to attract his attention, she asked, "Giles? Still with us?"

"What?" he asked, snapping out of it. "Oh… yes."

Buffy feigned innocence, propped her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, and adopted a singsong, child-like voice in an attempt to get him to open up to her. "Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"

A pause. "Noting. It's… nothing." Off her obviously disbelieving stare, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily before replacing them. "All right, there is something."

"What is it?" She was worried; Giles looked very serious compared to how he'd been earlier.

"In…" he began, then cleared his throat. "In regards to our conversation the other day… y-you never answered my question."

"Oh…" She knew he was referring to his query of whether she was in love with Spike. She hadn't answered because she didn't trust herself to give him the answer he wanted to hear. She removed her elbows from the table, and started to examine her hands where they lay in her lap. "I know. It's… very complicated."

"Well, either you do, or you don't. Which is it, Buffy?" She didn't reply, merely continued staring at her hands. "The sooner you tell me, the sooner I can help you."

Finally, she looked up again. "I know what you want me to say, Giles. I know you just want me to say that I hate him and be done with it… but in all honesty, I really don't know how I feel about him. I thought I'd developed… feelings for him, but…" She shook her head. "Look, can we not do this now? It's been such a great night, and I don't want to end up ruining it by fighting with you."

"Yes. Of course. I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically. "But you do know we have to discuss this-"

"I know. Just… just not today, okay?" Giles nodded. At that moment, the waiter reappeared with the bill. "I'll see you in the car, 'kay?" With that, she got up and headed out to her friends, leaving Giles even more worried about her than before.

Midnight…

After the meal, everyone had crashed into Buffy's house, exhausted, and practically fallen straight to sleep. Willow was sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks, for once not being haunted by nightmares. This was probably due in part to Xander, who had opted to sleep in an armchair in her room, to keep an eye on her. Her sudden sprint towards recovery, while welcome, was also quite worrying, and he wanted to be there, just in case she regressed again.

Dawn was in her own room, as usual, but she was having trouble sleeping. Something was troubling her; something she couldn't quite place. She knew, though, that whatever the something was, it was to do with Spike, wherever the Hell he was. She rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time, pulled the pillow on top of her head, and closed her eyes firmly to try and sleep.

Down in the lounge, Giles was attempting to get comfortable on the couch. His worry for the entire group had grown to such a degree that he hadn't slept properly in days. This wasn't helped by the fact that Buffy's couch wasn't the most comfortable thing the universe, and many a night he considered he would probably be better off on the floor. He shifted position slightly and stared dead ahead, not really taking in what he was looking at, deep in thought. He was very concerned about Buffy. Although he couldn't be certain, he was adamant that there was more to her relationship, if that's what it could be called, with Spike than she was letting on. Fretting about it wasn't going to help much, however, and he was going to be of even less use if he was tired, so he conceded defeat, and tried one more time to get some sleep.

Up in her bedroom, Buffy was having about as much trouble sleeping as Giles and Dawn, and, unsurprisingly, for the precise same reason. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't get the damned vampire out of her head. She was thinking over everything that had happened with him, from kissing him post-singing, and their first 'encounter' in a collapsing building, right through to what he'd done with Anya, and-

At this point, she would make herself stop and cut right to the part where he left. Thinking about anything that had happened in between was not an option, not if she wanted to remain in control of her already tenuous emotions. She was trying to accept that Spike was out of her life and he wasn't going to come back. Ever. He was gone. This was a good thing… So why the Hell did she feel so bad about it? Why, after what he'd done, or tried to do, or whatever, did she want him back? Could it be that Spike was the only thing in her life she could depend on to always be there? On reflection, she supposed he was… and now… he was gone… and it really, really hurt.

Buffy sighed heavily and rolled over to face the window. It was a warm night after the rain had passed, and humid, muggy enough that she'd opened the window. There was a slight breeze catching the nets at the window. A full moon was just visible, bright white against the dark sky; in the distance, a dog started howling and her thoughts turned inexplicably to Oz, wondering where he was and how he was doing. He was lucky. He'd gotten out of Sunnydale, away from the Hell it had become these days. Pushing the random thought out of her brain, Buffy tried in vain to sleep, but all the usually imperceptible night sounds kept her awake – the crickets, a distant cat, a twig breaking under her window… wait a minute…

She sat up in bed to listen more closely. There it was again, nearer this time, followed by a quiet curse, as though someone was trying too hard to be careful and failing miserably. The breaking noises stopped, and then a scraping, scratching sound began instead, as whoever was out there started climbing up the drainpipe by her bedroom.

Buffy's first instinct was to fight whatever nasty it was, and her second was to pray it was only some idiot burglar. If it is, she thought, he's so picked the wrong house to mess with. She grabbed a stake in one hand and a heavy, metal ornament in the other, and cautiously approached the window. She opened it further so she could lean out and get a head start on attacking whoever – or whatever – it was, before it had a chance to attack her. Just as she was about to stick her head out of the window, someone else's head appeared there instead, along with two hands on the sill.

She leapt back from the window in shock and automatically went into attack-mode before her brain registered who it was. Then she dropped both weapons on the floor. "S-Spike?"

The vampire was half in her window by this point, performing a precarious balancing act while he tried to get enough momentum to swing his legs inside the room. The dewy windowsill was making his task all the more difficult, and Buffy was currently in too much shock to help him. He stopped for a second to look at her. "Yeah. Why so surprised, love?"

Moving closer, a little cautiously, Buffy attempted to form a coherent thought. "Y-you're here…"

"Course I'm here, pet." He struggled again, almost losing his grip, and then finally managed to manoeuvre himself into the room to stand in front of the window. He indicated her floored weapons. "Although, I must say the sharp end of a stake wasn't quite the welcome I was expecting."

Buffy stayed where she was, and Spike did the same, clearly not going to advance until she gave him permission in some form. She tried to figure it out in her head, and gave up. Of all the ways she'd expected Spike to return, if at all, him crawling through her window wasn't one of them. "But… where have you been?"

"Miss me?" he asked, in his usual predatory style. He took a step forward, but one confused and semi-murderous glance from Buffy stopped him. He frowned, apparently not having a clue what she was on about, and becoming exasperated with her. He resorted to sarcasm. "All right, I was saving a small child from drowning in the middle of the Red Sea. Where d'you think I've bloody been?"

Buffy gave up. Spike seemed to think she'd been expecting him, and that he hadn't mysteriously vanished for the past few weeks. She said nothing, just watched him. He was half in shadow, and half-lit from the moonlight, giving an overall ethereal effect. The pale skin and blond hair created a strange halo of sorts, which, in some ironic way, suited him. Angel, she noted rather stupidly, had never had a halo…

Spike sighed. He was getting bored of whatever game she was playing. "Look, should I just go?" When he received no answer, he made to leave the way he'd come in, turning to face the window.

"Wait…"

Her whisper stopped him in his tracks. He turned back to face the room. Buffy moved faster than he could even see and attached herself to him, trapping him with a kiss full of desperation and utter relief. Spike prised her off gently and looked at her, concerned. "Buffy?" She stared back at him, unsure what to say, then decided not to say anything for the time being and clung to him instead. Spike, confused beyond belief, held her closer and patted her back comfortingly. "It's all right. I'm here…"

"You're here…" she repeated, her voice muffled enough that he released her slightly. Her eyes flashing with brief anger, she managed to find her voice and pulled out of his arms to face him. "Don't leave like that, ever, ever again."

"What-?"

"Ever. Promise."

"I… I promise, Buffy…"

She nodded, believing him. Then, she made the mistake of looking at him – really, honestly looking at him – and beyond the confusion and concern in his eyes, she saw how much he loved her. The intensity scared her at first – this was Spike, after all, and he wasn't meant to have feelings for her like he claimed – but at the same time, it was familiar, something she knew, something she could latch onto.

Time to be honest with yourself, Buffy, she told herself. She'd missed him. There. It wasn't so hard to admit now that he was here. Before common sense could kick in, she found herself wanting to tell him, and the words were forming before she could stop them. "Spike?"

"Yes, love?"

"I… missed you." The smallest of smiles broke out, but he could tell she wasn't finished, so let her continue. Buffy closed her eyes, giving in to whatever part of her wanted this in the open. "And I wanted you to know… I forgive you."

She was met with silence. When she opened her eyes, he was gone, almost as if he hadn't been there at all. She felt her heart sink to her stomach. No… not again… "Spike? Spike!" She looked out of the window, down the street in both directions, and directly below – there was no sign of him. She sank to her knees on the floor, unable to fight the stream of tears that coursed down her cheeks. Her only coherent thought was that he'd broken his promise…

Buffy woke with a start and sat up in bed, abruptly. It took her several seconds to realise she wasn't on the floor. It was a dream… Oh, great. I'm dreaming about Spike, again. The disgust at herself didn't last long. Who was she kidding; she'd wanted it to be true, to look across and find Spike hauling his sorry behind through her window, with that big-eyed lost-kitten expression that was so irresistible…

Okay, Buffy. Stop. Think. It's Spike. He's evil, he's a vampire, and he's out of your life. Be happy. She took a deep breath, and tried to get back to sleep. Then she realised what it was that had actually woken her up in the first place – the muffled sound of flushing coming from the bathroom. It had faded by this point, but if the light left on was any indication, it must have been Dawn's doing. Buffy sighed and got up; she'd never get any sleep with that sliver of light under her door.

She leaned out and flipped off the landing light, then groaned when she realised Dawn had left the bathroom light on as well. Muttering, she walked the distance of the landing and made to turn it off. In the bathroom door, she stopped in her tracks. The light seemed so much brighter at this time of night, and everything was sharp and harshly lit. A cracked tile on the far wall caught her attention. When did… Oh…

A hundred different images hit her in flashback, at an alarming speed. The whole night came flooding back to her, fragmented, but in exact detail, Spike's words and her own mingling into a mishmash of meaningless burble.

'We have to talk…' as he closed the door. Did he know what had been about to happen? Could he have known? Did he plan it?

'…should've just let him kill me…' Damn those sorrowful eyes of his. Didn't think vampires did guilt trips.

'I could never trust you enough for it to be love.' But I trust him with Dawn. I've trusted him with my life… but I don't trust him to love me? Hypocritical much?

'Trust is for Old Marrieds, Buffy!' Like Xander and Anya would have been, he means? Look how far trust got them…

'I couldn't…' Only because I wanted so badly to stake him my-damn-self, if I had the guts. Something always stops me, and somehow, I don't think it's because I'm waiting for the day his chip comes out so it'll be a fair kill…

'I have… feelings for you. But it's not love.' Why does it not sound convincing even to me any more?

'I just wanted it to stop!' So he makes me feel like the bad guy. I'm the one who kept going back, even though he's to blame as much as me.

'Ask me again why I could never love you!'

Buffy switched off the light and slammed the door shut, then ran. She headed immediately for the stairs for some reason she couldn't fathom, and collapsed at the bottom in hysterical tears. She sat on the bottom step, and rocked back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably. It wasn't so much the flashback she'd had trouble with – that had been inevitable – and even though it still ripped through her to think about what Spike had nearly done, she'd pretty much put it behind her. He could have done worse, in retrospect. She could be walking around as one of the undead she was sworn to kill. What was making it so bad was that she'd forgiven him, completely and totally, and it made no sense.

All this time, she'd never truly believed that he loved her, not really. Maybe, she'd decided, he thought he did, because he couldn't kill her with the chip in (well, for a while, at least.) No matter how many times he'd admitted it, she'd never believed him. 'I don't hurt you,' he'd said, once, right before he'd finally had enough and kicked her out of his crypt.

Well, he'd broken that promise. The physical scars had healed quickly enough thanks to her Slayer immune system, but mentally, he'd definitely hurt her. If there'd been any trust at all between them, he'd broken it that night, and now, by leaving, he'd crossed the line. He'd left her, and he'd left Dawn, and that was unforgivable. So, yes, he'd hurt her. And now, something else he'd said once came back to her.

'You always hurt the ones you love, pet.'

Spike had needed to hurt her to prove himself, whether it was intentional or not. And sitting on the bottom step, Buffy continued to cry, for far too many reasons. Somewhere, some part of her knew that if he came back, things might finally start going right again… but that possibility was seeming more and more unlikely as the days passed.

To be continued…

Okay, I know, it was only a dream sequence… but it's still going to be a while til Spike's back from Africa and I needed to give you all something, right? Next chapter will see Buffy 'fessing up to Giles about all the things she conveniently missed out of her story the first time. Watch the angst fly! Until then, keep reviewing.