For Disclaimer, see chapter one.
A/N: This fic is going pretty well I think, just taking some time to sort out in what order I want things to happen, and how I can fiteverything in without taking away from the major stuff in the season. Please remember that while the story will obviously be changed, most of the major things from season seven will still be referenced.
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SPIKE
Manifest spirits controlled by a talisman, raised to seek vengeance. A 4-year-old could figure it.
BUFFY
(To the phone) Hang tight. I'll find you. These things can hurt you. You can hurt them too. Find a weapon. I'll come for you. (To Spike) Spike, you gonna help me out?
SPIKE
This is my home. I belong here. Always been here. Cheers for stopping by.
(Spike walks away from Buffy. He faces the wall and puts his hands on it.)
SPIKE
(To himself) It's in the wall.
(Spike turns away from her to put his hands on the wall. He starts to moan softly.)
BUFFY
I'll get back to you.
(She kicks down the door and leaves the room.)
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As Buffy sat in her room later that night, thinking over the events of the day, she felt pleased at having secured a way to watch over the new high school without having to go all super-spy James Bond-like, but also worried.
"Spike." The name fell from her lips in a tumbling whisper. Since he'd been gone she'd wondered every day where he was, and though she would never admit it, she'd missed him a lot.
The last time they had spoken was months ago, back before Willow had left Sunnydale, before the last almost apocalypse, and before Warren had shot her and killed Tara.
Seeing him again made her remember how much she had missed him, and she knew she had to go to him. She grabbed her coat and tucked Mr. Pointy into the pocket in the lining for safe keeping, wrote a short note to Dawn saying she had gone patrolling, then carefully made her way down the stairs and out the front door.
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Spike could hear a noise. Someone was coming toward him. He shuffled backward into the darkest corner of the room, and sat trembling with his arms wrapped around his raised knees. If it was the changing thing again, the thing that was Glory and the Master and Dru all at once, then he'd just sit quietly til it bloody well went away. As she entered though, he didn't know what to do. It was her. But the thing before had been her before as well. Spike wiped away a tear of frustration and confusion which had been slowly sliding down his cheek. If it was her, the real Buffy, he didn't want to be seen like this, weak.
Spike stood in one swift move, startling Buffy. "Spike... is it really you?" Buffy began, after she had steadied herself again. "You were gone for so long... where were you?"
"Gone love. Went on a trip. Had to go and get somethin' I lost a long time ago. I got it, so now I'm back." Spike replied, shrugging.
"Oh..." Buffy had been expecting a more detailed answer, but remembering their conversation this afternoon, and now watching Spike as his eyes and head moved to follow a beetle's flight path, she knew better than to push for more. Something was up with Spike, and she knew she had to help him. He was acting strangely, even for Spike, and seemed in need of some serious help-age.
Buffy walked over to him and took him by the hand. "Spike, listen to me. I am taking you out of here. Living down here has done something to you. You're coming home with me."
"Steady pet," Spike smirked, "haven't even bought us a drink yet."
Buffy sighed. The journey home was going to be a long one.
