"Your turn," she suddenly said.
"My turn for what?"
She furrowed her brow.
"Well, I think I have been pretty forgiving and all. You know, with the not flipping out about you not telling me you were alive... or... not alive."
"I see," he nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Right then. Saved the world, was rewarded by being dumped through a portal right into the arms of the Poofter there--"
"I'm sitting right here, man. Could you be a little more considerate?" Angel whined from the dining room table.
Spike sucked in a breath and shook his head. He looked like he was counting.
"What are you doing?" Buffy asked him, clearly puzzled by this action.
"Counting to ten. Helps calm me down to not rip his throat out and whatnot."
Buffy giggled.
"Yeah, he's been all 'Zen' and fixing motorcycles these days," Angel injected.
"Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," Buffy and Spike corrected at the same time.
Angel rolled his eyes at the sight of them. How had this happened? How had Spike become the one Buffy thought was worth dying for?
"Besides, I think you're probably referring to the I Ching, Grasshopper," Buffy told him with a sly smile.
Spike grinned, too.
"Right. As I was saying," he continued, but not before shooting Angel a sideward warning glance, "Ah, portal. Poofter. Incorporeal. And then that Fred bird did some sort of hocus-pocus and I woke up in my own skin again."
"But why didn't you tell me?" she asked in a voice that sounded so small.
He sighed. He wanted her to be able to move on and live a normal life. Normal. Funny, that. What is normal anyhow? Is a world where vampires exist and Hell's mouth is in the basement of a high school normal? Is a 16 year old cheerleader being expected to rise to the occasion in a stake-off normal?
"Because I'm not as smart as I thought I was, Pet?" he half-asked, half-stated.
"You thought you were doing something good... something noble?" Buffy asked incredulously.
"Well, yeah, Pet. When you put it that way, I suppose that's what it was meant to be," he glared back at her.
She shook her head, stifling a giggle.
"Since when the Hell have you ever been good or noble?"
He looked at her, stung by her words for a moment. Then he saw the twinkle in her eyes. She was fighting a smile from making its way to her lips.
"Could be plenty good, Love. Saved the soddin' world once, you know."
Angel could definately feel the change in the air. Good grief, Charlie Brown. They were flirting. Right there under his nose, damned be it, they were flirting.
"I think I'll just be go--"
"Not so fast, Angel," Buffy snapped, stopping him in his tracks. Her eyes were still locked on her blonde vampire, but her arm had shot out to halt Angel.
"I, uh... thought you two would want--"
"You knew."
He swallowed hard.
"And you never said a word."
"He didn't want--"
"Why?"
He wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Because he didn't--"
"Yeah, caught that one the first time around, Pinocchio. Try again."
It was amazing how she had returned to herself with perfect clarity since Spike had returned. Angel, himself, couldn't deny the connection between them. Spike was her balm against the harsh elements of society. He was the one who could heal her. He was the one she loved.
"Because I wanted to be right," he mumbled.
Spike's eyes darted over to his grandsire.
"Yeah. Okay. I said it. Through all my denial and all of my wanting to be the one to get the cookie in the end, I already knew that Buffy was more than half-baked. Wait..." Angel gathered his thoughts. "I knew that she was... ah, shit. I don't even eat. How could she be for me?"
Spike looked amused.
"Go on," he encouraged.
"You know how I have to be right. Even if I don't like the outcome."
Now it was Buffy's turn to look amused.
"So... you get the girl. I get to be right. We all live happily ever after," Angel conceded with a forced smile.
"And what do I get?" Buffy asked, coyly eyeing Spike.
He leaned down and whispered something in her ear that even his grandsire couldn't hear. She blushed instantly.
"And with that... I will see my way out of here," Angel announced. He stared at them a moment longer, his grandchilde and his ex. Pretty, they were. All sharp angles and sleek planes with their blonde heads touching.