Sorry about the delay on this story. I've had a lot of family stuff going on lately, none of it fun. I'll try to update much more quickly next time.

Spike sat tensely while Dawn sewed up the tear in his arm. Buffy was lurking in the background, and he could tell she was dying to assail him with more incriminating questions. As soon as Dawn finished her job, Buffy was sure to pounce. Still, Spike figured, there was plenty of blame to go around, so he might as well deflect some of it away from him and onto a convenient target.

"All done!" Dawn announced, stepping back and surveying her handiwork.

Buffy opened her mouth. Spike beat her to the punch. "Dawn sent me through the washer and dryer," he informed her. "Three times through the dryer."

The ploy worked; Buffy turned on her sister instead of on Spike. "You mentioned something about that earlier, Dawn. I think details would be good right about now."

While Dawn stammered through an awkward explanation of the laundry incident, Spike tried to think of who else he could blame. Andrew and Angel both sprang to mind. With a little luck, he might be able to turn Buffy back to feeling sorry for him again, instead of wanting to kill him herself.

Dawn wrapped up her story, and Buffy shook her head in disbelief. "You know that trouble I said you were in when you took my diary? It just tripled."

"I didn't take your--" Dawn blurted before she glanced at Spike and relented. "Fine, I'm in trouble. What's my punishment?"

"For starters, the laundry. Only without Spike in it this time. Get to work."

Dawn stalked away, muttering about stolen diaries and evil puppets and lying vampires. Spike could only assume she hadn't told Buffy the truth about the diary theft because he looked too pathetic to blame. He didn't feel guilty for not owning up himself, though. Considering the fact that Dawn had been responsible for the washing-machine-and-dryer disaster, he thought they were about even now.

With her sister out of the way, Buffy eyed Spike again. "I think our priority has to be getting you back to normal. How do we do that?"

"I'm not exactly sure," Spike replied. Then he casually added, "Angel should know, though."

As he had hoped, Buffy latched onto this comment. "Wait a minute. You said something about that before. About Angel knowing you're a puppet."

Spike nodded. "And of course, he was one first. He'll probably come looking for me any minute. He wanted me to sneak away last night and go back to Los Angeles."

"Angel's in on this scheme?" Buffy said loudly. "He sent you here?"

"Well, no," Spike corrected. "I came here on my own. But Angel knew I was a puppet and he followed me once he found out where I'd gone."

"So that's really why he showed up here," Buffy mused. "He told Dawn and me that lie about Cordelia dying as a cover story, and we actually felt sorry for him. I mean, I knew something was wrong with him if he's working at Wolfram & Hart, but I can't believe he sank that low."

"It wasn't a lie," Spike acknowledged. "Cordelia really did die."

"Oh." Buffy was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry about Cordelia. But that still doesn't let Angel off the hook. He should have told me about you."

"Can't lay too much blame on him. I mean Andrew didn't tell you, either," Spike immediately mentioned.

Buffy threw up her hands in frustration. "Andrew? He knew, too? What, did everyone in the world except Dawn and me get tipped off about you first?"

"Just Angel and Wesley and Fred and Lorne and Gunn. Andrew saw me when he came to Los Angeles."

"Why didn't you mention this before? If I'd known Andrew had seen you, I could have confirmed your story with him."

Spike hesitated, seeing the trap he had accidentally made for himself, then reluctantly went on. "Because I had told him not to let you know I was back."

"So if I'd talked to him, you would have come out of the conversation looking even worse than you do now," Buffy concluded, all too accurately. "This doesn't mean I'm still not pissed off at him, of course. He should have told me the truth no matter what you said. You did an awful lot of lying and covering up throughout all of this. Is there anything else I don't know yet? Anything at all? You'd better tell me, because if I find out later that you left something out, you won't like what happens."

From the expression on her face, Spike believed her. He shook his head. "You know it all."

"All right." Buffy stood up. "I have to make some phone calls and see if I can get in touch with Angel and have him come over. You." She pointed at Spike. "Go up to my room and stay there. Don't get into any more trouble."

Obediently, Spike slunk back up to Buffy's room. Soon he would be on his way back to Los Angeles, leaving Buffy and Dawn behind forever. He reminded himself that he should be happy they had both been doing fine without him, but this thought only made him feel worse.

He trudged into the room and then he saw it, sticking out from under the bed: the diary he had never had the opportunity to finish reading. A tempting corner protruded from the shadows. It was as good as asking him to pick it. So Spike did. He looked at the diary. Buffy was busy downstairs. She probably didn't want to see him again for a long while anyway, so she would never know how he chose to amuse himself in the meantime.

Mind made up, Spike carried the diary over to the bed and settled down to complete his perusal of it. He flipped through the pages, hunting for the place where he'd left off, his awkward hands occasionally ripping pages as he searched. Finally he located the correct spot and began to read.

The door opened. "Spike, I--" Buffy said.

She abruptly stopped. Spike didn't have to look up to realize why. He braced himself, knowing he had to be working on Buffy's last nerve and couldn't expect any more mercy.

"Find anything interesting in there?" she asked.

"Um..." Spike didn't know what the safest answer would be. Would he die faster if he said her diary was boring, or if he said it was fascinating? He settled for staring at the wall and wishing he could turn invisible.

Buffy stepped closer and removed the diary from his grasp, then sat down beside him. "I understand completely, Spike. I really do. You were afraid. Everyone is sometimes."

"What?" Spike was so surprised, he forgot to look at the wall. Instead, he turned and looked at Buffy. She was being nice and understanding and compassionate, and that had to mean she was lulling him into a false state of security before she slaughtered him. Only she didn't look like she was on the verge of committing homicide (or puppetcide). She actually looked nice and understanding and compassionate, just like she sounded.

The last time she'd acted this nice toward him, he'd been about to burn to death on the Hellmouth and she'd claimed that she loved him. Spike hardened his heart and turned away. He wasn't going to fall for another act.

"Spike? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. "Sorry I read your diary. I won't do it again."

"I don't care about--" Buffy stopped. "Okay, I do care about that, but compared to everything else that's gone on, I guess it doesn't matter that much. I wanted to apologize to you. I was so busy being mad at you, I kind of forgot to tell you how happy I am that you're alive. Or undead. Or whatever exactly you are now. Hey, how come you can go out in the sun as a puppet and not be harmed, anyway?"

Spike lifted one shoulder in a puppety approximation of a shrug. "I don't have to drink blood now, either."

"That's good. I guess. Look, Spike, what's important here is that you're back.I didn't realize how much I'd miss you until you suddenly weren't around anymore." Buffy took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is that--"

A hammering on the front door interrupted the conversation before Buffy could complete this statement. Instantly, she pulled away from Spike. "Who's making that racket?"

Spike tensed. He was pretty sure he knew, and the timing couldn't have been worse.

Buffy jumped off the bed and jogged down the stairs. Spike followed, reluctantly and more slowly. Halfway down the flight, he stopped. Buffy and Dawn had reached the door at the same time. Buffy opened it and Angel stepped inside, throwing a smoking blanket onto the floor as he did so.

"Buffy, I have something important to tell you about your puppet," he began. "It isn't real. It's--"

"Spike. I know."

"Spike pretending to be..." Angel trailed off. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, you know?"

"We know the puppet is alive and that he's really Spike," Buffy elaborated.

"So he told you the truth?"

"We know everything," Buffy equivocated.

"Oh." Angel stood for a moment, the wind taken out of his sails. "Well. That's good, then. I was concerned about the situation."

"You were here two nights ago," Dawn blurted. "If you were so concerned, why didn't you tell us the truth then? We almost didn't find out at all."

"Quiet, Dawn," Buffy ordered. Then she turned on Angel. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Angel looked away. "Things were complicated."

"You didn't want us to know Spike was back," Dawn accused. "Isn't that the truth?"

"Okay, yeah, it is. Being around him isn't good for Buffy."

"That's my decision to make," Buffy snapped.

"Didn't this disaster tell you anything?" Angel replied. "Spike had every chance to be honest with you from the beginning and he didn't take any of them. In fact, he could have called you months ago. Guess what? He didn't."

"All that is between Spike and me. Not between you and me, or you and Spike."

Angel sighed. "Buffy, I'm just worried about you. Spike isn't good for you. I mean, if I wasn't, then he definitely isn't."

Still unnoticed in his position midway down the stairs, Spike bitterly wondered why Angel had to show up and ruin everything. It wasn't fair--none of it was. Angel was a vampire first. Angel got his soul back first. Angel met Buffy first. Angel was even a puppet first. It seemed like Angel had gotten to do everything first, and Spike was constantly at a disadvantage.

At that moment, Angel glanced up and spotted him. "This is convenient. I don't have to go hunting for him. I'm all set to take Spike back to Los Angeles, just like he agreed. It's for the best. He won't be bothering you again."

Dawn looked at Buffy. "You're not going to let Angel take Spike, are you?"

"Yes, I am," Buffy replied.

It was the answer Spike had expected, but it still hurt to hear that Buffy didn't want him around. Shoulders drooping, he started down the remainder of the stairs.

"And we're going back with him," Buffy added.

TBC