Slowly, Buffy slipped on the coat. She kept her eyes down, but shifting constantly. She pulled the coat closed around her and held it there tight. Spike took a deep breath because he knew if he didn't do something to calm himself, he would run and grab her up and never let go. And he could tell that was the last thing she could handle right now. As the rest of the gang slowly crept in behind Spike, Buffy finally leveled her gaze at them. She looked terrified and confused, beyond all reckoning. Spike slowly turned around to face the group.

"You take her home now. Get her a bath, clothes, whatever she'll tolerate. She needs bandaged up too, but don't push it. If she's lookin' too skiddish, you leave her be. Try to get her to sleep, but like I said, don't push anything. Wrong move and I think she'll bolt." The others nodded at Spike. Xander seemed to almost say something, but then refrained. They all just looked at Buffy for a moment until Spike said, "NOW!" in the most commanding voice he could muster at a whisper.

Xander stepped forward toward Buffy. "Uh, Buff? Buffy? WE'RE.....GOING...TO...TAKE.....YOU...HOME...NOW"

"God, you nit, she's not deaf and she understands you just fine. Don't you, pet?" Spike turned to Buffy. She nodded shakily.

Xander approached her slowly and put out his arms to direct her toward his car. She walked warily, keeping some distance between herself and the others. Willow, Tara, and Anya followed slowly. They put Buffy in the back of Xander's SUV, where she would have some room to herself. She stayed huddled in Spike's coat the entire way-never saying a word. Anya started to ask Buffy something, but Xander elbowed her. She pouted and wondered aloud why they were all being so quiet when they should all be happy. No one else spoke during the trip.

When they reached Buffy's house, Spike was already there, sitting on the porch. He stood up when he saw the car pull in and started pacing around the porch.

Xander let Buffy out of the back and she climbed out slowly. She stood for a moment, looking up at her house. Then she noticed Spike standing on the porch. He had stopped pacing when he saw her and now he was just staring at her. She quickly averted her eyes when she noticed he was looking at her. Spike automatically looked away too, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Buffy noticed that everyone was looking at her and she started to make her way up to the house. Spike stood to the side, a bit too far, and again he wasn't sure why. Xander quickly scooted in front of Buffy to unlock the door. He started talking to her in a low voice.

"We, uh, we kept everything just like you left it. Mostly. Will and Tara have stayed here off and on since...well.....We just wanted to make sure everything was ok for when we...for when you.....came back. Anyway, it's pretty much like it always was. I put in some shelves in the kitchen and I widened the closet in the guest bedroom..." Xander trailed off when he saw Buffy near tears.

She stood in the middle of the living room, all her friends looking at her, and she was softly crying.

"Oh, um, I can take the shelves out. Not a problem. I can put everything back just the way--" he stopped when she looked up at him, her eyes still wet. "No," she said softly, almost too softly. "Everything is ok. I just...it's all...so much...I can't..."

Willow stepped forward, "Of course, Buffy, we understand. It's all a lot to take in. All this 'you being not dead' stuff. And we're going to leave you alone as soon as we're sure you're ok."

"Yeah, because...we all love you and we just want you to be...ok," Tara piped in.

Buffy smiled...but it didn't really resemble a smile. "I'm ok, guys. I just..." Buffy shook her head as words failed her.

Anya took this chance to finally ask her question. "So where were you? What was it like?"

The rest of the group shot her a look, but then they slowly looked at Buffy, expectation in their eyes.

"Buffy, you don't have to talk about it," Willow finally said. "We can tell that wherever you were, it was...bad. You don't have to discuss it until you're ready."

"And if you never want to, that's ok too." Tara added with a weak smile.

"Well, of course she'll want to. I mean, this is pretty big stuff. And I'm sure Giles will want all the juicy details for his boring Watcher's journals. She *has* to talk about it eventually. It's part of her sworn duty or something." Anya got more looks from the group, and then they all laid into her.

"She does NOT have to talk about it!"

"It's not her duty!"

"Why wouldn't she talk about it?!"

As the group argued in front of her, Buffy lowered her head and seemed to withdraw inside the coat. Spike thought she looked so small, that maybe the coat would swallow her whole. She looked like that's what she wanted too, he thought. After a few moments of the arguing, Spike got fed up. He stormed from the back of the group and stood in front of Buffy, his back to her. He addressed the group with a loud growl and his vamp face. They all jumped at the sound and sight and took two steps back in unison. Spike let his face change back to the chiseled human features before he turned to Buffy. Her eyes were wide, but softened when she saw he wasn't wearing his demonic face. He lowered his head a bit, like a shy schoolboy.

"What do you need right now, Buffy?" His voice was soft and calm, and sounded so good to her compared to the melee that she had just witnessed.

"I want to be alone, for a while." Buffy eyes were pleading for some peace.

"Right. You got it, luv." With that, Spike turned to the group and said, "You heard the lady. Everyone out!" He started toward the door himself when the arguing started again.

"We can't just leave her alone here!"

"She just got back from hell, I don't think she needs to be alone."

"We should stay with her. She needs to be bandaged and fed, she can't do that on her own. Look at her!"

With a groan, Spike shouted just enough to be heard, "She's fine. She wants to be alone, and you bloody lot are gonna let her."

Xander dismissed Spike with a shake of his head, "Buff, look, I know you want some time alone. But we just don't think it's a good idea. Why don't you pick someone. Just one of us. We'll stay here and stay out of your way. We'll just make sure you are ok and help if you need something. Won't say a word, just be here to help," now Xander's eyes were pleading with his friend.

Buffy sighed and nodded wearily. She continued looking at the ground when she said, "Spike. I want Spike to stay."

She couldn't see the hurt faces of her friends, or the mile wide smile that Spike wore. Xander argued.

"No, that's *so* not gonna happen. We're not going to let--" he stopped when Willow put her hand on his arm.

"Xander, you gave her a choice and she made it," Willow said, trying to hide the hurt in her voice.

"Guys, it's not that I don't love you all. It's just..." Buffy couldn't finish. She didn't really have a good excuse for not wanting her friends around her and wanting her once-mortal enemy instead.

"No, it's ok, Buffy. I know, we're kinda overwhelming at the moment. We're just so excited you're back. You should definitely be with someone less...expressive and s-stimulating..." Tara tried to make it sound nice, as she threw a smile in Spike's direction. Spike laughed to himself at Tara's unintentional joke. Stimulating, he thought. No, he could definitely be stimulating, but now was neither the time nor place for stimulation. Buffy needed peaceful, sedate silence. He could give her that, even though he was brimming with just as many questions as the others. He would reserve them all until she was ready.

The fight had left Xander and he hung his head in resignation as he headed out the door. He stopped in front of Spike. "Spike.....if you so much as...I swear, you better not touch one hair on her head or I'll....."

"It's fine, Xander. Spike knows the wrath of us if he's not a perfect gentleman with Buffy." Willow tried to be the voice of reason, but she still had some residual hurt happening. Her best friend didn't want to be around her. Willow had saved Buffy from torturous whatever, and Buffy chose to be with...Spike, of all people. Well, not people...

They all made their way out the door, promising to be there at the drop of a hat if Buffy needed them. They all wanted to venture a hug, but she was obviously still closed off to contact. Spike stood facing the door after they all had left. He wasn't sure what to say or do.

"You don't have to stay. I just needed some peace and quiet, and none of them could give it to me. But really, I'm fine. You don't have to babysit me." Spike turned to Buffy while she spoke.

"Um...I know you'd rather I leave, but well...they had a point. And I think I'd be facing a dusty morning if I didn't stay. But I'm just going to hang out on the porch. You give me a shout if you need anything." Spike turned to go but Buffy stopped him.

"Spike, if you're going to stay, then stay. I thought you were done lurking outside my house." Buffy gave him a weak smile, that more closely resembled a smile than her previous attempts.

Spike had to smile too. "Ok, then. And I *am* done lurking about. Maybe." Spike grinned at Buffy and she smiled a bit wider, but her smiles still looked so sad. It was her eyes, Spike thought. All the fire is gone. Not my Slayer, this one. Whoever they brought back, she's not my Slayer. My Slayer would have me outside on my ass in seconds flat. But this...little girl, she's tolerating my presence and wrapped in my coat and not making snide remarks about anything. But Spike pushed these thoughts away, because she asked him to stay. He took a tentative step towards the sofa and sat down. Buffy was standing by the fireplace, staring at the cold logs. Suddenly she became aware of herself.

"Um, I think I need to...get dressed. And probably a shower would be good."

"Yeah, I bet that would do you a world of good, luv."

Buffy nodded and started toward the stairs. "You're going to stay, right? I mean, you don't have to, but...you'll be here when I'm done?" Buffy had a look that was a mixture of hope and confusion.

"Of course. You know me, you'll have to kick me out." Spike smiled reassuringly at her. Buffy smiled a little and nodded again.

She started up the stairs. Two stairs up, she got light-headed and stopped. "Um, Spike? Can you give me a hand here? I'm the Chosen One and even come back from the dead, and all of a sudden stairs are a problem for me."

Spike was taken aback for a moment. She was joking...about being dead. It seemed so Buffy-like, but at that moment it just struck him as odd. He was quickly at her side, and she grabbed his offered hand. He didn't make a move to touch her unbidden. He let her hold onto him and lean on him as much as she needed. She didn't need much, but he could tell she was getting dizzy as they mounted the steps. She held the coat closed with one hand and held onto Spike with the other. By the time the reached the top, she was swaying. Spike decided to drop his gentleman act and put his arm around her back and held onto her waist, to keep her from falling. She was too woozy to notice.

"Slayer? Buffy? You ok, luv? You're looking a might ill." At that word, Buffy threw up. Of course, nothing came out, because there was nothing *to* come out. So she stood hunched over in the hall, dry heaving. Spike was thoroughly confused, and more than just a little worried. The coat fell open, but since Buffy was leaning over, nothing was revealed. Spike silently cursed that fact, then cursed himself for thinking it.

"Um, Slayer, as much as I'd just love for you to heave on my shoes, maybe you should lie down." Spike tried to guide her into her bedroom, but she wouldn't budge. As soon as she stopped making gagging sounds, her body started convulsing with laughter. Spike stared at her, bewildered. But then her laughter turned into something else. Crying, no, sobbing. She crumbled to the floor onto her knees. She regained control of the coat, wrapping it around herself and then she gathered the excess in her hands. Then she buried her face into the leather and sobbed. Spike just knelt beside her. For a long time, he didn't know what to do. He just wished he could make her stop crying, because it tore at him to see this. And he felt guilty, because at the same time, his dead heart was soaring at her proximity, that she was here with him, alive. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, patting her gently.

"Buffy, luv, it will..." What? Be alright? Will it? Spike wondered if he should even say anything. "Come on now, to bed with you. Washing can wait til tomorrow."

**

Picks up in the same spot in the next chapter. It was just too long to make one chapter!