Heavens! Last chapter already? How can this be so short? Well, did you really want the day-by-day of Spike's misery and Buffy's captivity? Didn't think so. Read on for Spuffy happiness!
She stopped the car before she ran out of gas and fumbled through Mexican Information to get the number of the US Embassy in Mexico City. When she told them her name, they whooped in delight: "We've been looking for you for a week!"
They sent a helicopter to pick Buffy and Alice up, and within half an hour they were on American soil - officially, if not actually. Doctors were summoned, baths were drawn, clothes were found and food was prepared bountifully, and through it all Buffy clung to her little girl as if there was no one left in the world.
"We've contacted your sister, Mrs Dashwood, she wants you to know she and your son are fine."
Buffy nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. When she found the words, they came out as, "When can we go home?"
"Just as soon as we get your emergency passports issued," was the reply. "Get some sleep, the doctors said you should rest."
They'd been appalled at the state of Buffy - Alice looked in a bad way, but she had no more than a handful of superficial cuts and bruises. Buffy was scarred inside and out, and the general advice was that she shouldn't travel at all.
But she did, and got on a plane to LAX as soon as she could, sleeping most of the while, holding onto Alice, the airport and the plane and the people all so clean, so bright, so comfortable. It seemed surreal. She couldn't believe she was going home.
She was met at the gate by a familiar figure: Riley, in full black-ops regalia. He looked pretty impressive, and he had a big gun that frightened Alice.
"How're you doing?"
Buffy shrugged tiredly. "I just want to go home," she said, and her eyes filled with tears as she remembered who wouldn't be there.
She let Riley escort her to the terminal - bypassing customs and baggage in a special hostage sort of route - and as soon as she stepped into Arrivals a barrage of paparazzi met her, cameras snapping. Buffy recoiled, and Alice clung to her legs.
"Mrs Dashwood-"
"Buffy-"
"What was it like?"
"How did you escape?"
"A few words-"
"Buffy-"
"Buffy-"
Alice whimpered, and Buffy tried to pick her up, but she felt too weak. Every muscle she had ached, every bone throbbed. She looked up at Riley, who wordlessly scooped Alice into his arms and led the way through the press pack. She followed, feeling crushed by all these people when she'd been so used to solitude - and then she heard a familiar voice calling her name.
"Buffy? Hey, Buffster!"
She looked up, and saw Xander waving from the back of the pack. And on his shoulders rode Will, waving manically.
"Mommy!"
Buffy suddenly found a burst of strength and shoved through the reporters, grabbing Will and hugging him so tight he squeaked.
"Ow, Mommy!"
"I'm sorry." Losing her grip on both him and her emotions, Buffy slithered to her knees, arms still around Will, tears pouring down her face. "Oh baby, I missed you so much. I'm never leaving you again."
"Buffy?" someone said behind her, but Buffy, her head buried in her son's sweater, didn't really hear.
"Buffy, love? Did you miss me?"
And then she froze, because that was Spike's voice. Spike, who was dead. She'd seen him die. He couldn't be here.
She was imagining it, wanting it too much.
She lifted her head and looked around anyway, because the temptation was too much, and then she saw him standing there, looking uncertain and tired, desperate, hopeful.
"Buffy-" he said, and shock overtook her.
She fainted.
"Buffy. Buffy, wake up. Buffy, Buffy Buffy Buffy Buffy Buffy-"
Spike shook his wife by the shoulders, his fingers digging in, and suddenly her eyes burst open.
She stared at him for a long moment, and he stared right back: green against blue, two pairs of tired, hungry eyes.
"Spike?"
Her voice came out small. She looked disbelieving. They were in a small office, the door firmly shut, everyone else outside.
Spike relaxed his grip. "You fainted, love. That bloody press pack - like sodding vultures, they are - what you've been through, you need time to rest-"
She put her hand to his cheek, felt the sharp ridge of bone under his smooth flesh, warm flesh, alive flesh.
"Spike?"
He changed mental gear. "Yes, love."
"I thought you were..."
Her fingers roamed over the peaks and planes of his face, then down across his neck, feeling his pulse leap, over the collar of his shirt, his shoulder-
He flinched.
"Still healing there, love."
"Healing," Buffy repeated. "She shot you."
"Yeah. Missed the vitals though, eh pet? I'm still here."
Tears started rolling down her face. "I thought you were dead. She said you were and I saw you, I thought I saw you..."
Spike gathered her in close and tucked her head under his chin, stroking back her hair. "Not dead, love. Not while you still draw breath. Can't die until you do, pet, I couldn't leave you like that."
He pulled her head back and looked into her eyes. "I'll never leave you again," he said, and Buffy nodded, a weak smile growing through her tears.
Spike smiled too, and kissed her lightly. "Love you, Buffy."
She wrapped her arms around his strong, mending body. "Love you too."
"You wouldn't believe what I've been through trying to find you," he said, and Buffy's mouth dropped open.
"What you've been through? Oh, and it was all silk sheets for me, I suppose?"
"Have you ever been in a Mexican jail? They don't like Yanks there, you know."
"You're not a Yank."
"That's what I said. Had to get bloody Giles on the phone to sort me out - he'll never forget that, you know."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "And Riley. The way he told it, he found me single-handedly and all you did was turn up and fire a gun."
"Oh, yeah, that's me. I turn up to rescue you and you're already sodding gone. I only just go back here in time to see you faint-"
"I thought you were a ghost."
"Lot of that going around love," his fingers tightened momentarily against her skin. "That twat Wilkins tried to tell me Alice was dead."
Buffy shook her head. "I - oh God, Spike!"
"What?" He stared at her in alarm. "What?"
"The baby-" her hands flew to her stomach. "Oh God, Spike, I'd forgotten. She was going to hurt Alice, she had a gun and I thought she was going to kill her and I couldn't - I couldn't let her hurt my baby, so she hurt me, she kicked me and hit me and I tried to protect it, Spike, I tried and I tried but she wouldn't stop, and I was bleeding and it..." Buffy was crying again, "Spike, I lost the baby."
For a few seconds he gazed at her. "That Andersen woman?"
Buffy nodded tearfully. "She saved us in the end. She wouldn't have hurt Alice but I didn't know that. I lost the baby. I'm so sorry, Spike..."
He held her close as she cried again, stroked her hair and rocked her gently as he tried to put it together. Giles had said something about one of Buffy's kidnappers giving herself up. Faith had beaten Buffy badly enough to cause her to miscarry - and then saved her life?
But that didn't matter. He lifted Buffy's face and gently kissed her mouth. "You protected Alice," he said. "You took care of my little girl. My tiny baby. Buffy, love," he tucked a strand of dull hair behind her ear, "you put the child we have above the one we didn't know yet. You came back to me and you brought my little girl back safe and sound. That's all that matters. There can be other babies, pet, if you want."
Buffy sniffed. "What if I can't? What if I'm too damaged?"
Spike ran his hand down her back - he could feel all her ribs. Dammit, she needed to eat. "You know what? Right outside this door we've got two beautiful, healthy children we both love enough to risk our lives for them. And we got each other. You and me, love, and we're forever. And if I never have anything else, that's enough for me. You're enough for me. Everything else is like a dream I don't deserve."
Buffy looked up at him, this strong, brave, vulnerable man who loved her so much she could see the fear on his face, and she knew it was enough for her, too.
She kissed him, her husband and lover and salvation, held him close and knew she'd never let go.
"I love you," she said quietly, and watched the smile, like a new dawn, break over his face.
"Bloody love you too, Summers. Now, about that baby-making - I reckon we should get some practice in..."
The End
And here's where the title came from: Romberg and Hammerstein's Lover Come Back To Me
The sky was blue, and high above
The moon was new, and so was love
This eager heart of mine was singing:
Lover where can you be?
You came at last: love had its day
That day is past, you've gone away
This aching heart of mine is singing:
Lover come back to me
When I remember every little thing you used to do
I'm so lonely
Every road I walk along, I walked along with you
No wonder I am lonely
The sky was blue, the night was cold
The moon was new; but love was old
And while I'm waiting here
This heart of mine is singing
Lover come back to me
