A/N: Here's the next chapter. It took some time deciding on how to write this chapter. I wrote about 3 or 4 different variations until I settled on this one so I hope it was worth it. Please read and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: No I don't own any of the characters they of course all belong to Joss the God of the Buffy Universe.

"Okay then, hey, the name's Spike." He said as though he were introducing himself to her for the first time. Buffy rolled her eyes at his name. "What?"

"Well, it's just that I hope that isn't your real name." Buffy teased him.

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"What isn't wrong with it? I mean it makes you sound all evil and like you belong to a gang or something."

"Maybe I am evil and I do belong to a gang." He told her trying to sound serious, but he couldn't keep a smile from forming on his lips.

"Well if that's the case, then maybe I don't want to talk to you anymore." Buffy was slightly more successful at keeping a straight face then he had been.

"Okay. Okay. I take it back."

"Good. So do you have a real name?"

"Yeah."

"And it would be?"

"Sorry Goldilocks, but that is one secret that I don't intend to share."

"Fine." Buffy said folding her arms across her chest and sticking out her lower lip to pout, but Spike had stopped watching her so it went unnoticed. Buffy shrugged it off and brought the conversation back to what Spike had started. "Okay, so my turn. Hi Spike," She said his name as though she were disgusted by it, but Spike had picked up on the teasing tone that was hidden underneath it. "My name is Buffy."

Spike cast her a devilish grin. "So tell me, is that your real name?"

"And just what is wrong with my name?"

"Nothing, just sounds like one of those names the rich folk give their daughters. You know like Muffy or…"

"Oh come on. That is so not true." She cut him off.

"If that's what you believe. Are you from that sort of high society?"

"No I am not. If you must know, Buffy is not my real name. And don't you dare ask what it is because I'm not telling you. You didn't want to share so neither do I."

"I suppose that's fair."

After making fun of each others name the two blonds sat in uncomfortable silence wondering what to say next. Spike spoke first asking the only thing he could think of. "So, how long have you known my cousin?"

Buffy thought for a moment, trying to remember when she had met Faith and Angel. She felt as though she had known them all her life. "About eight or nine years. Not long after I started junior high."

"So you moved here from Cleveland too?"

Buffy smiled lightly. She was amazed that Spike had either been left out on the happenings of his family, or he just hadn't cared enough to remember. "Actually, I met them when they moved to Sunnydale. That's where I grew up. I moved here about a year ago." Buffy noticed Spike hold his breath for a moment when she mentioned the name of her hometown. She assumed it was because he hadn't known Faith and Angel had lived there, so she didn't bother to ask him what was wrong.

"Why did you leave Sunnydale?" He asked her suddenly very interested in the small blonds past.

"It's sort of a long story. I guess to cut things short I wasn't happy with my life. My dad was forcing me to be something that I didn't want to be, so I packed up and skipped town. Angel and Faith had kept telling me to leave and come here. After almost two years I finally took their offer to give me a place here."

"You didn't tell anyone where you were going?" Spike wondered, wanting to know everything about her. From the moment he had seen her he felt there was something familiar about her and now as he listened to what she told him he began to know why.

"No one. I packed my stuff and left. The only thing I did was leave a note on the bed in my dorm room that said I'm sorry Daddy, but I don't want this."

"Do you think he has tried looking for you?"

"I don't know. If he has, he never found me and that's probably a good thing. After my mom died he became a control freak. I was allowed to do only what he saw fit. He wouldn't even let me go off to college unless I majored in what he wanted me to, or I had to find a way to pay for it myself."

"You don't think that after this much time he would be happy to just know that you were okay."

"It doesn't matter. I am happy here and I don't want to risk that by telling him where I am." Buffy replied with a shrug of her slim shoulders.

Spike shook his head in disbelief. How could she not care? The man that he had talked to the day before when he had knocked on the door of Elizabeth's old house had been worried about his little girl. He had told him how she had left leaving only a note telling him she was sorry. He knew it was his fault. All he wanted was to know that she was safe. He told Spike that if he found his daughter to tell her that he was sorry and that he would really like it if she would call him to let him know she was okay. Suddenly Spike didn't want to talk to her anymore. Her story was too close to the one Hank had told him, there had been something familiar about her from the very beginning, and now it all pieced together. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Elizabeth. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." Spike told her standing up and heading towards the door that led out into the hallway. "I have something that I have to go deal with."

"Wait, Spike, is there something wrong?" She asked getting up to follow him.

"No, I just, I have to go make a phone call." He yanked the apartment door open and stepped out almost bumping into Faith who side stepped quickly enough to avoid a collision.

"Hey there man, what's the hurry?" She called after him watching him walk down the hall towards the stairs as though he hadn't even noticed she was there.

Spike hadn't heard her. His head was filled with thoughts of the woman he had just talked to. He had come back for her as he had promised he would, only now he wasn't sure if it was even worth it. She had treated him like dirt, like he was beneath her, and in the past year she had treated her father no differently. He could feel the anger flaring up in his chest, or was that what his heart breaking felt like. The last time he had felt like this was when he had left her on her porch as they both cried. By the time he had turned thirteen he had pushed past the pain, but had refused to ever let any one into his heart again. Now thirteen years later he was feeling the pain of her again.