A/N – After rewatching some of AtS season five, I've discovered a bit of a canon error in my story. In the crazy Slayer episode of AtS, Andrew tells Spike that Buffy was in Europe finding new Slayers. In my story, Buffy declared herself on sabbatical immediately after the collapse of the Hellmouth. Not a huge deal, but it's definitely an error on my part. I'm not going to fix it, however. I suppose you can just think of the story as AU. Forgive me? Thanks. :)

Speaking of canon, since there was a lot left unresolved at the end of BtVS, I thought you readers might like to know what angle I'm approaching this story with and my reasons.

It's not a popular opinion, but I don't think Spike and Buffy had sex on their last night together in Chosen. I think they slept in each other's arms, and at the most, exchanged a kiss or two – but I don't think that time was about sex for them. It was about trust, support, forgiveness, and probably about laying a solid foundation for their future together (for Buffy anyway – I'm pretty sure Spike knew he was going to die). Do I dislike stories that have them sleep together on their last night? Not at all. I love them. This is only one opinion. It doesn't mean I don't see them sleeping together as a plausible scenario. I do. Joss chose to leave it open for speculation, and speculate I have. All this to say that the Spike and Buffy in my story did not have sex in Chosen. Snuggles only.

Concerning Buffy's "I love you" to Spike: Yes, I think she meant it. Joss has even confirmed that. Moreover, I think she was in love with Spike. However, I also think Buffy has a serious case of emotional constipation (ack! potty humor!). Had Spike not been about to die, I don't think she would have actually told him for a long time. Such is the case in this story. In other words: Buffy loves Spike, but she can't say it. Trust and abandonment issues. Aren't they a bitch?

In the End

Chapter Four

In retrospect, Buffy felt like an idiot. She realized now, months after the fact, that Andrew knew Spike was alive. He had dropped hints – subtle comments that she hadn't given a second thought to at the time.

"So did you?" Andrew had asked her earlier in the year, when he first came to stay with them (and since, had failed to leave).

"Did I what?"

"Love Spike."

That had caught her off guard. Buffy remembered getting flustered and confused all at once. "Why? It's not like it matters now."

"Au contraire. Let's imagine for a second that it did matter. I know – pretend that Deanna Troy from Star Trek: TNG is interrogating you, and she'll know exactly what you're feeling so you can't lie. Did you love him?"

"I really don't think that's any of your b--"

"Just answer the question, Buffy. Counselor Troy's waiting." Andrew batted his eyelashes and smiled.

"You are beyond weird, you know that?" Buffy ran her fingers through her hair as she fumbled for the right words. "Spike … Spike was … he was my best friend. Of course I loved him."

Andrew's hopeful smile faded. "Just as a friend?"

She didn't answer.

"Do you still love him?"

Buffy shrugged uncomfortably, training her eyes on the floor. "Stuff like that doesn't fade so easily with me. It never has."

"You should hang onto that," Andrew said quickly, nodding his head. "Your love for him, I mean. Might serve you in the future. Like sands through the hourglass – so are the days of our lives."

He didn't elaborate further, and Buffy was glad to just drop the subject. Knowing how fond Andrew was of Spike, she had assumed he was simply being overly sentimental as per usual. Looking back, she thought she should have at least suspected the truth starting with that conversation. After a bit of thought, Buffy decided that Andrew must have first seen Spike in L.A. when he was sent on his errand for the Council. But that was months ago! Months upon months, even. Why hadn't he told her?

The same day she received Spike's letter, Buffy cornered Andrew and forced him under pain of death to tell her what he knew. Bits of the letter were confirmed. She learned that Spike was indeed working with Angel in L.A. – or at least he had been until Angel's … accident. Andrew didn't know many details about how Spike's return came to pass, and those were the details she was particularly interested in. Namely – how was Spike alive? Did he survive the collapse of the Hellmouth, or had he been resurrected? Why hadn't he contacted her before now? She couldn't seem to derive any answers from Andrew's babble.

"He left you a phone number, didn't he?" Andrew asked. "You should call him and ask him all this stuff yourself. I'm sure he would want to talk to you. I mean, he wouldn't have given you the number if he didn't, right?"

"You'd think," Buffy answered with a tight smile. "I don't know if I'm ready for that or not. I'm still trying to work everything out in my head."

"For what it's worth, Buffy, I'm sorry. He made me promise not to tell you."

Did he now? she thought. What the hell is going on?

"I've got some news," Buffy said to Dawn over dinner that night. "Good news and bad news, I'm afraid."

Dawn mumbled something unintelligible around a mouthful of breadstick.

"Good news first." Buffy waited until her little sister swallowed before she dropped the bombshell. "Spike's alive, Dawnie. He's in L.A."

Not looking up, Dawn twirled spaghetti onto her fork. "Oh. What's the bad news?"

Buffy's jaw dropped. "That's all you have to say?"

"Um … sorry?"

"Let me guess," Buffy said with an incredulous chuckle. "You already knew, right?"

Dawn shrugged. "Andrew told me months ago. Spike apparently told him not to mention anything to you, but he didn't say anything about keeping me out of the loop."

Buffy stared at her sister. "How could you keep something like that from me?"

"Apparently Spike said he wanted to tell you himself. Is it my fault he took forever to get the nerve?" Dawn paused and eyed her sister carefully. "Anyway, you never acted like you missed him. How was I supposed to know you cared?"

Buffy recoiled as if she'd been slapped. "You know what he meant to me."

"Do I?" Dawn tossed her crumpled napkin onto the table and leveled her sister with a hard stare. "Look, Buffy. You don't talk about him. You change the subject whenever he's mentioned. What am I supposed to think?"

"I didn't want to talk about him because I missed him," Buffy choked out, on the brink of tears. "I missed him like crazy. Can you understand that?"

"I missed him, too, but really? If he doesn't want to be around us, that's his problem. I can't believe it took him this long to tell you. He was the one who told you right? Andrew didn't break his promise?"

"No, it was Spike." Reaching into her pocket, Buffy handed her sister the slightly crumpled letter.

Dawn took it and read it while nibbling on a breadstick. "Wow, bummer about Angel," she said, glancing warily at Buffy. "I take it that was the aforementioned bad news. You okay?"

Buffy placed her face in her hands and mumbled, "No."

"Spike sure is a jerk for telling you all of this in a letter. Especially the part about Angel's death. Insensitive, much?"

"Just a bit."

"You should call him."

"I did. The day before yesterday."

"And?"

"I hung up as soon as he answered the phone."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Wimp."

"Well, what am I supposed to say? 'Hi, Spike. Sorry about that amulet I gave you. Bummer, huh? By the way, you're an insensitive bastard.'"

Handing the letter back to her sister, Dawn smiled. "It's a start."

Buffy didn't find the courage to call until the next evening. Since coming to the conclusion that she was deeply angry with Spike, she waited until she was alone in the apartment before placing the call. There was no use making everyone else listen as she gave him a piece of her mind. She could just imagine Dawn and Andrew with their ears pressed to her bedroom door, exchanging scandalized glances and hi-fives. Yes, it was definitely best that she was alone for this particular phone call.

Spike picked up sooner than she expected, and she jolted at the sudden sound of his voice. Melting a bit inside, any angry thoughts she might have had seeped away for the moment. God, she had missed him.

"It's me," she said quietly.

"Oh. Oh. Hi."

"Is this a bad time?" she asked, nervously wrapping the phone cord around her finger until it started turning blue. "I could--"

"No, no!" Spike said quickly. "I'm … I'm just glad you called back. I, uh, didn't think you would."

Buffy slowly released the breath she didn't realize she was holding. She thought she heard him do the same over the line.

Awkward silence pressed heavily against them both. Buffy had to resist the urge to slam the phone back down on the receiver.

"Well," he said after a beat, "isn't this a giggle?"

"Did we leave you there?" she asked, not recognizing the sound her own voice. It sounded too small and uncertain to be hers.

"Leave me … what?"

"In the Hellmouth," Buffy continued, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Did you survive, and we just left you there, buried?"

"What? No!"

"How did you get out, then? We just assumed the worst."

"Guess I really did leave a lot out of my letter."

"You think?" When he didn't respond, Buffy continued. "So then you really died? We didn't leave you? God, I don't know which is worse."

"I don't really know if 'died' is the right word for it. Sure felt like it, though. Burned up. Ashes to ashes and all that rot. Though, instead of meeting the afterlife, I suddenly found myself in L.A. -- suddenly being the operative word. Happened in the blink of an eye. Something to do with that amulet. Long story."

"And you're just now telling me this why?" Buffy prompted, feeling her earlier anger begin to flood back into her.

"Wanted to. Tried to, even. You were the first thing I thought about, but I couldn't really do anything about it. I was a ghost, see. Incorporeal."

"But you're a real boy now, apparently. In fact, I hear you were quite solid when Andrew saw you months ago."

"Glad to hear you've obtained a little compassion while I've been away. What exactly are you wanting me to do here, pet?"

"I want you to stop it," she ordered quietly.

"Stop what?"

"You're doing it wrong."

"What are you on about, now?"

"You," Buffy said, as if that single word was all the answer he needed and more.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here, Slayer, and say you're upset about something."

"Do I really need to explain this?"

"Apparently so."

"You," she repeated. "You're supposed to be groveling. Begging for forgiveness."

"Don't like groveling much, pet. Chafes the knees."

"Why don't you ever say you're sorry, Spike? Aren't you supposed to have a soul that makes you feel bad when you do something wrong or hurtful? Is a simple 'I'm sorry' too much to ask for?"

"Actions speak louder than words."

"They sure as hell do, and guess what? Your actions are telling me you don't give a piss about me or Dawn or anyone other than yourself."

"Don't give a--? I died for you, Slayer. Didn't expect to come back either."

"Don't change the subject. Spike, you've been alive or undead or whatever for over a year, and you didn't tell me."

"I -- I got confused."

Buffy laughed in disbelief. "Confused? What, you couldn't remember how to dial a phone?"

"You know what? Forget this. I can't talk to you. You're pissed off, and you're just going to warp whatever I say into something you can yell at me about."

"I wouldn't be yelling if you'd just say you were sorry."

"I told you, actions sp--"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Buffy said, cutting him off. "Let's see what this action says to you."

She hung up. Hard. And it felt good. That would teach him.

Beside her, the phone rang. Buffy's eyes narrowed as she recognized Spike's number on the caller id. So he had her phone number as well as her address, did he? She picked up and growled, "What now?"

"I'll tell you what now," Spike growled back. "I'm tired of being hung up on."

Click.

Buffy stared at the phone, her jaw falling open incredulously. He'd actually hung up on her. Her. Furious fingers punched his number in on the keypad.

"How dare you!" she snarled when he picked up.

Spike scoffed. "How dare I what? Do what you did? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, love."

"You really don't get this, do you? Why I'm angry?"

"I get it. I'm trying to fix it, if you haven't noticed. That's why I sent the sodding letter in the first place. I did want to tell you, Buffy. I just didn't know how. Call me a coward or whatever makes you feel better. Just know that I tried. Wouldn't have written the damn letter if I didn't care about you. Wouldn't even have bothered."

Buffy bit her lip, feeling a miniscule amount of anger seep away – but there were other things that were bothering her. "Speaking of which, how could you tell me about Angel like that? In a letter? In the same letter that let me know you were alive? Exactly how insensitive are you?"

"Um … that was insensitive?"

Spike boy stupid, she thought feebly. "Newsflash, Spike. Very insensitive. Bordering on just plain mean. Why couldn't you have told me face to face?"

"So that you couldn't beat the shit out of me when you saw me? Come to think of it, I kind of like that you're getting all this anger out a few thousand miles away from my flammable body. Keep it up. Vent that anger."

"Spike, I am angry, but you don't know how happy I was to hear you were alive – but the way you told me. God, it hurt. And it's like you were hiding behind the news about Angel."

"Look, I really didn't think you'd take it that way. I thought you'd want to know what happened to him, what with him being your twu wuv and all."

Buffy felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "Will you at least tell me what happened? Without the snide comments?"

Spike let out a slow sigh. "No snide comments needed. He went out a hero, plain and simple. Granted, a slightly suicidal hero, but then again, I suppose we all were. Didn't I mention all this in my letter?"

"You said something about a dragon, but no real details. I want to know how it happened – what you two were up against."

"Four," he corrected her. "There were four of us in the end, facing down God knows how many nasties. Had to be hundreds. And let me tell you, not all of them were your average human-sized demon either. There were giants. Species I didn't even come close to recognizing. A dragon. Never seen anything like it. Must have been some sort of ancient army. Efficient bastards, they were."

Buffy swiped at the tears running down her cheeks. "Who were they sent by?"

"The Senior Partners at Wolfram and Hart. And before you get any ideas in that sweet little head of yours, revenge is not an option here. I know you've defeated a hell-god and all, but I watched a god-king die right before my eyes in that fight. You keep your nose out of this one. Promise me."

Buffy ignored him. "If there were so many, how did you get out?"

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Spike sighed. "They let me go."

"They did? Why would they do that?"

"No idea. They passed me up like I was invisible. Fought them, killed them, twisted their bloody heads off with my bare hands, but they never fought back. They just went straight for the others. God, I felt so helpless. I tried to protect them, but they didn't stand a chance. Not even Illyria, and believe me when I tell you she was rather strong. The demons just walked over their bodies, passed me by, and went on their merry way. Just between you and me, it scared the shit out of me."

"I can imagine."

"Got some sort of plan for me it seems," Spike continued. "Or so I've been told. Not sure I trust the source, though."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"The battle? Four months ago, I guess."

Buffy's eyes drifted shut. "I hate to tell you this, Spike, but I'm about to hang up on you again."

"Oh, for the love of … fine, I'll say it. I'm sorry. I screwed up. I'm groveling, and my knees are the chafiest around. Are you bloody well satisfied?"

"Not when you say it like that, I'm not. I trusted you, Spike. In the end, right before you died, I trusted you more than anyone in that house. I thought we trusted each other, and then you just abandon me like everyone else. Did I miss something?"

"I didn't abandon you, pet. I died."

"You know I'm not talking about that."

"I said I was sorry. What do you want from me?"

"I just want to know why. I want a reason. I think I at least deserve that."

"Look, Buffy. I love you. I gave my life for you. Gladly, I might add. It hurt. It wasn't quick. Quite the contrary. It was slow and painful, and I didn't care because you would be safe when it was all said and done. You left, knowing what I did for you – how I'd changed – how I'd finally saved you. When I popped back into existence, it was like my sacrifice suddenly became worthless. Does that make sense?"

"Please tell me you're joking," Buffy said, her brow creasing. "That has got to be the lamest excuse I've ever heard."

"Really? Harmony seemed to buy it."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Look, that wasn't the only reason. I needed time to find myself. To figure out who I was apart from you … apart from any woman, for that matter. With the way I fell all over myself when you called me the other night, I'm not sure I'm there yet." He paused, seeming to consider his last words. "I think I might need a little more time to sort things through, Buffy. A little more time apart from you. I need you to be okay with that. I'm not abandoning you, sweet. If you want me there--"

"You know, I don't think I do," Buffy said, cutting him off. "Not right now, anyway. I think I need a little time, too. To sort this through in my head. I want to be clear on something, Spike. I'm mad as hell at you. I missed you, and I'm glad you're back. But you and me? We're not okay."

It was several moments before Spike spoke again. "This isn't exactly what I imagined our first conversation would be like. Never thought we'd have a first conversation, in fact. We still friends, at least?"

"I honestly don't know," she admitted. "I guess we'll find out the next time we talk."

"Next time. I'd like that. Guess this is goodbye then?"

"For now."

"Love you, pet."

She hesitated. "Goodnight, Spike."

To be continued.

Have I mentioned I'm a feedback whore? ::lower lip quivers::