I'm not sure how regular updates will be for a few weeks, since I'm due to start a course, and it'll take a while to get myself organised with that.

Also, if any of you are getting new chapter alerts through ff.net, you need to know that I probably won't pay for support services when my current subscription expires at the start of February. If you want email notification when I update, you can join the updates list at my site. The address is in my profile. I always update here and at my site within minutes of one another, so the notification applies to both.

And, thirdly, this story has been picking up a few nominations. It's up for best original character in the Spuffy Awards (for Gina), Best WIP and Best Crossover Fic at Vampires Kiss Awards, and Best Plot, Best Crossover and Best POV fic at the Shadows and Dust Awards. I really appreciate that people took the time to nominate the story - you know who you are.

Chapter 15 - Trying

I walk back to the living room determined to make things right between Spike and me. He's sitting where I left him, his shoulders rounded, staring at the floor. He hears me coming in, and looks up, and his expression makes my heart clench in sympathy.

"You gave it up for me," he says softly, his eyes wide.

"What?" I reply, not quite sure what he means.

"You had it all. What you wanted, the normal life, the career, and you've given it up."

I go and sit beside him. His eyes follow me, and my doubts vanish - all those niggling feelings that've been plucking at me since Spike realised he was different, they just evaporate. His feelings are written on his face along with the wonder and the fear that vie for precedence. For once, I think carefully before I start to speak. This is too important for misunderstandings.

"You're right. I reached the stage in my life where I thought I had it all. I told Angel once, that I was cookie dough. Just before the end, in Sunnydale, I told him that I wasn't ready for the big decisions, that I needed to find out who I was before I would be ready for the 'happy ever after' thing. After Sunnydale, I moved on, came here, built myself a life. Someone had been messing with my mind, so I didn't remember you as clearly as I should. But I thought I was as ready as I'd ever be, so I tried to make that life with Angel."

I see him tense, and put a hand on his arm only to have him shrug it off. I continue.

"His soul is permanent now, so there wasn't any danger of Angelus spoiling things. But I knew, almost right away, that it wasn't right, that something was missing. It was like I was meant to be chocolate chip cookies, but I'd run out of chocolate chips. Part of me was missing. And, as soon as I realised that, the answer was obvious. The thing that was missing, the man who was missing, was you. Despite some mojo that was supposed to make me forget you, I didn't, not completely."

He doesn't say anything, just continues to look at me, and I just want to drown in those eyes. I take a deep breath to steady myself, and continue.

"So, Willow managed to lift whatever it was that made you less important in my memory, and then we found that there might be a way to get you back. And the truth is, with my memory intact, I knew that my normal life wasn't worth anything without you to share it. And even if it's never exactly normal again, my life doesn't mean anything without you. So, you ask why I gave it up? Because without you, I don't have a life. And the alternative, with you consigned to Hell, just wasn't an option."

"Buffy, s'what I deserve. I mean, the things I did …"

"Shh," I put my finger on his lips to stop him disagreeing. "You also saved the world. At the very least, you deserve a chance to change. I don't know why I didn't see that earlier, but it's true."

He shakes his head, and I move my finger.

"Buffy," his voice is firmer now. "You love him, Spike. You don't know me. I'm not him, and I never will be him. And when you realise that, maybe Angel won't seem like such a bad deal."

I feel anger boiling at that remark. How dare he suggest that I'd go back to Angel? I think he can see my irritation, and in true Spike style, instead of saying something to calm me, he does the opposite.

"What? You need a bit of monster in your man. If Spike can't supply it, then why not Angel?"

"I've already told you. It didn't work with Angel. It didn't, and it never would."

My voice is louder than I intended, but quieter than it would have been a few years ago.

"It's not Angel that I love. I mean, I care about him, and I probably always will, even if right now, I really don't want to see him. It's Spike. And, whether or not you agree, you're the closest thing to Spike there is. I'm not seeing a whole lot of difference, except for the not having to keep out of the sun."

"I'm not him. I don't have a demon, that dark side that you crave. Not any more."

"Who are you, Spike, if not the sum of your memories and experience? And now I'm sounding like a freshman psych. class. You lived with that demon for a century. Are you telling me it didn't make a difference? And as for not knowing you? I want to. I want to know everything about you. You've already seen me at my worst - when I didn't want to live, when I wanted to hurt you because it made me feel a little better. And I know I've seen some of the worst of Spike too, but I loved him anyway, even if it did take me a while to realise it. Let me get to know you, let me see if I can love you, whoever you are now. Let you find out if you can still love me. I've changed too. We'll take it slowly, if that's what you want, but I'm just begging you to give us that chance."

He laughs then, although there's no joy in it, and lifts his hand to my hair.

"Buffy, taking things slowly isn't what I want to do. Part of me is desperate to touch you, to feel you, to … but … ."

I don't answer that, because I'm feeling exactly the same thing. Having him so close, and not being able to touch, really touch, is agony. I close my eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling of his hand on my hair, and I know that if he moves closer, kisses me, I won't stop him. He doesn't. After seconds or hours, his hand drops away from me, and I open my eyes again. He's still looking at me, and I know I've got to break the spell before we do something we might regret.

"So, we take it one stage at a time. First thing, is for you to just get used to being back. The rest, well, it'll probably have to wait until after I sort out this business with Wolfram and Hart."

"We."

I must look confused, because a second later, he adds, "After we sort out this business with Wolfram and Hart."

"But Spike," I remonstrate.

"But nothing. You either let me help out front, or I'll just follow along anyway, more than likely getting in your way, but there's no way you're doing this alone. He would've been there to watch your back, so how could I do any different?"

I'm about to tell him why, but then I remember the conversation with Wes, and I know he's right. However irritating it might be, I've got to let him make the decision. And the last thing I want to do is to undermine his confidence. I cast my mind back to the conversation with Riley after Dawn let slip that I called him 'kitteny'. He made the best of it, but he was hurt.

I decide to go for a simple, concise answer.

"Thanks, Spike."

He smiles at that. "Going to take a bit of getting used to, that. The Slayer saying thank you."

I tense at that, feeling the guilt again, for all those times I treated him badly, but his voice is teasing, and his smile warm. I smile back.

"Don't know about you, Pet, but I could do with a bit more sleep. What do you say we talk in the morning, decide how we're going to do what we need to do."

He gets up, signalling that the conversation's over. I can't make up my mind whether I'm more scared or happy, but it looks like I've got another member of the team.

He walks towards the door, and turns back towards me before he leaves the room.

"Still got some of the money I won," he says, pulling it out of the back pocket of his jeans. "Thought I might buy myself a change of clothes. This human thing - it comes complete with some annoying extras I could do without - like sweating and … other assorted smells. Ok if I take a shower before I go to bed?"

I just nod. It's the first time I've heard him say something so … accepting about his new status. If he can only accept it, and realise he's more Spike than whoever he was before he was turned, then maybe we'll work this out.

I listen to the sound of the water as I get ready for bed. I'm surprised by how tired I feel - the anxiety of the past few days has taken its toll. I climb into bed, hear Spike come out of the bathroom and go into his bedroom, and I'm aware of nothing more.

I sleep so deeply that I either forgot to set my alarm, or I slept through it, because the next thing I know it's after ten. I get up, relieved to realise it's Saturday, and pull on a robe. I check the living room and kitchen but there's no sign of Spike. I knock softly on his bedroom door, trying not to waken him, but desperate to know he's ok. There's no answer. I open the door carefully, and find the room empty, the bed made up carefully.

My heart starts thumping uncomfortably, and I try to push down my fear. He said he needed some new clothes, so that's where he's gone. I think the words, but I'm not convinced. I take a deep breath, and go back into the kitchen searching for some sign that I'm right.

It's there, perched against the coffee pot, a note. He's borrowed my keys, and gone shopping. A wave of relief engulfs me, leaving me almost dizzy. I put the coffee on, and go into the bathroom to shower. I'm almost finished when I hear the door opening, and I know he's back. I quickly finish rinsing my hair, and turn off the water. I wrap my hair in a towel, and pull on my robe again.

I bump into him right outside the bathroom door. He starts, but the look he gives me is pure Spike, admiring what he can see in a way that'd be downright obscene from anyone else. Then something strange happens. It's as if he realises what he's done, and he changes, looking down and reddening.

"S .. sorry," he apologises. "Wasn't looking where I was going."

He turns then, and if he were moving any faster, I'd have to say he runs away to his room. I shake my head, trying to work out his reaction, then give up. I'm confused, but then that's nothing to how he must be feeling.

I've dried my hair, dressed and I'm eating some breakfast when he appears again, dressed in black jeans and t-shirt. The only reason I know they're new is the absolute blackness of the denim, and the small logo on the breast of the t-shirt. Again, it's pure Spike. I can't imagine what he was like as a human, but so far, apart from a few strange episodes, he's exactly the man I finally realised I love.

"No change in colour scheme then," I comment, as he pours himself some coffee.

"Well, if it's not broken, don't fix it. Any complaints?"

The t-shirt is tight, fitting closely, and his arms are bare. The jeans are, if anything, tighter than I remember. I assume that's just the fact that they're new, but the total result is … amazing. And in a totally Spike way. The look is all about raw sexuality - conventional enough to be acceptable in public, but definitely enough to make sure that every woman and a fair number of men who see him are going to give him a second look.

His hair's showing roots a little, but he's had it cut while he was out, and it's gelled into conformance the way he seems to like it.

The phone rings and I'm torn from my admiration to answer it. I take it through to the living room, and flop onto a chair, glancing at the display before answering it. I'm surprised to see that it's my office number.

"Hello," I answer cautiously.

"Buffy, Sarah Carlisle here. Just thought I'd let you know I really appreciate you letting me take on your business here. I've been looking for something like this, and I just couldn't believe how perfect this is for me just now."

"Hello Sarah," I answer. I'm really not sure what to say here. She obviously assumes that I've instigated getting her in, but I'm not sure how much she knows.

"Last time I heard about you, you were doing some interesting research," I answer, hoping to get some new information.

"Yeah, I was. Funny that. Everything was going really well, and then my sponsor just opted out. Turned out some of the money I thought had been paid hadn't actually made it into the project account, and I had an awful job making sure everyone got paid. It cost me a lot. That's why I'm so glad this opportunity came up."

"Just out of interest," I ask, a suspicion coming to mind. "Who was your sponsor?"

"Oh, it was a small company, you probably haven't heard of it. I was surprised they were interested in the project in the first place, but you don't ask questions when it comes to a research grant. Hart Brothers they called themselves, but as far as I can tell, the whole company's disappeared."

Now, why does that sound familiar? And of course, there's no reason for them to hide any involvement from me.

"Anyway," Sarah interrupts my thoughts. "I thought I'd let you know I'm here, going through your case notes so I can get right to work on Monday morning. I was surprised you didn't want to meet me, but your assistant gave me all the passwords and keys and so on, so I'm fine."

I could argue, go in there and tell Sarah that none of this is my idea, but I don't. I've got myself into this, and I'm going to have to get myself out of it, whatever it ends up being. I suspect that my 'assistant' might turn out to be Lilah Morgan, and I'm seething at the idea that she could just hand my business over to someone else. But that's between Lilah and me.

"So," Sarah goes on. "I'll take good care of everything for you until you get back. I have to say, I'm jealous. Twelve months to travel the world - I'd love to be able to do that some time. I'll keep things running smoothly for when you get back. I've even got some ideas to maybe enlarge things so you might want to keep me on when you get back. But now I'm getting ahead of myself. Go, and enjoy your adventure. I'll take care of everything here."

"Thanks, Sarah," I tell her. Whatever else, as far as I can tell, she's genuine, and as much a victim in this as I am if my suspicions regarding her sponsor are justified.

We say goodbye, and I put the phone down. I'm still pondering the conversation when Spike comes in and sits close to me.

"So," he says, "how're we going to play this? I didn't get a chance to read the background information you got. Where are we supposed to meet up with these demons?"