A/N: Thank you all for reviewing, and reading. I hope you all like this chapter. I also obtained a request to make the chapters longer… done.
spbangel: Thank you very much. Both, for reviewing, and understanding. I'm glad you like it!
AnimeAngel41: I'll try and make the chapters longer
chiefhow: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
spikegothicchick: Thank you! I'm really glad that you are enjoying it!
lafemme540: Thank you so much.
CC: Thank you! I'll try and work on the description and spelling errors
funkydevil206: I hope you like this one!
Harry P and Draco M Fan: I know! I'm the author and I'm hoping that Spike's going to remember her. Ha.
Celtic Cross: Aw. I don't know how long it's going to be until he remembers her – but when he does it'll probably mean the end of this fic and the start of a sequel…
Adainya: Thank you. Honest opinion though – what do you think I could do to improve this story?
LestatBP: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter!
A soft knock at the door roused him from sleep. Such acute hearing was hard to live with. He glanced over at the fair haired woman who answered the door and let in her friend.
They began to talk, and the red-head gave the blonde some of her bags.
He tilted his head and watched the exchange, curious as to whom these people were. He looked around slowly, taking in his surroundings as he had done twice that day. The blonde woman looked over to him and smiled reassuringly.
He got up off the couch and walked over to her, standing faithfully at her side. There was something he liked about her, something he found… special. He knew that she had known him before… but he couldn't remember before. All he remembered was the excruciating pain. The screams… his screams. And hers.
He closed his eyes tightly at the memory, willing it away, before he re-opened them and looked to the girl… the woman beside him. It was she who had screamed. He remembered.
And he took a step away from her. For a moment, she was confused as his actions. And then, she was hurt. He could see it all passing through her eyes. He knew he was significant to her. Her pulse sped up whenever she looked at him, and her entire personality bubbled.
Judging from the red-head's reaction to him, she had once known him as well. But their relationship… had not been what he had with the other woman.
The blonde stared gently at him for a moment before looking to the red-head and taking some more bags from her. She embraced her for a moment, then watched her take her leave.
He, on the other hand, stood and watched. Confusion overwhelmed him. He didn't know who he was, or what he was doing here. The only thing he knew was Buffy. And he wasn't even sure what that was.
"Spike…" the blonde whispered, stepping towards him. He stepped away, more out of reflex than anything else. Again, he saw both the confusion and the hurt flash in her eyes. "It's okay. It's me. It's Buffy…"
He looked up. What the bloody hell was Buffy? She kept saying it, and he kept hearing it, but what was it?
"Me," she patted her chest. "Bu-ffy."
"Buffy…" he whispered looking into her green eyes as she nodded.
"You're Spike… William…"
His eyes widened. William. He knew William. He was William.
"William," she smiled, seeing the progress. "You're William. But I know you as Spike. You're a vampire," that earned her a tilt of the head, "Vampire. You. You…you drink blood. And… You live forever… but… but you… you, Spike… William… whoever you are, you saved the world. You died and didn't live forever… and you did it for me. For Buffy."
"Buffy…" he repeated, stepping towards her. She stood still, watching him carefully. He reached out and put a hand on her chest, above her heart, "Buffy."
A tear rolled down her cheek and she nodded. "Yes. Buffy."
They stood like that forever. Or that's how it seemed to William. He swallowed slowly and took his hand off of her chest. Then he was rudely interrupted by a feral growl.
His eyes went wide and he jumped onto the table that sat near three feet away.
She laughed quietly. "Your stomach. You're hungry."
He raised an eyebrow at her, still unsure of what exactly she was saying.
"Here…" she rummaged through one of the bags and pulled out a dark crimson sachet. He sniffed the air and instantly knew that was what he craved. "Blood…" she whispered, walking over to him and ripping the corner off it.
He jumped off of the table and cocked his head to the side, slowly inching towards her. She led him to a chair, where he sat. She took the one across from it and coaxed him to open his mouth. When he did, she dipped a finger into the sachet and raised it to his lips.
He smelt it cautiously, darting out his tongue to taste it. He grinned and reached out for her hand, bringing it into his mouth and sucking all the blood off. He licked a stray drop before the rest of the sachet was brought to his lips.
"Drink. Be a good boy…" she said kindly, "William."
He smiled shyly at her and began to drink. He soon finished it, looking to her for praise.
She simply patted his hand and got up off the chair, walking off to the bedroom.
He sat for a moment, thoughts flying through his head.
He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and standing. He padded towards the bedroom, through the door that the girl… the woman… the Buffy… had just disappeared through.
She gasped when she saw him, quickly pulling on a tan-brown dress.
"William!" she whispered loudly, "Umm… You can't… do that…"
He cocked his head to the side affectionately, trying to understand what she was saying.
"How about we get you into some clothes, yeah?" she asked, pulling her hair out of the dress and letting it fall softly around her shoulders.
She walked forward and took his hand, tugging gently as she led him to the bags that the red-head had bought. She rummaged through one of them, pulling out a pair of black jeans and a navy blue button down shirt.
"Put these on?" she asked, handing them to him.
Again, he understood not a word she said. So he simply handed the clothes back to her. She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully before nodding to herself. She walked over to him and pulled off his shirt, or remains of.
He watched her eyes travel over his bloodied body. He saw the naked wanting behind her stare. And yet, he stood, frozen, not remembering anything. She took his hand in hers and led him to the bathroom, where she turned on the bath. He watched it fill, hypnotized by the flow of the water. She roused him from his thoughts by dropping to her knees and pulling his pants down.
He stared at her, blinking softly, studying her. Her gaze travelled over his body once again.
Suddenly, she stood. "In the tub with you."
She guided him over to the bath and helped him in. Picking up the sponge, she began to wash him, getting rid of the dirt and dried blood tracks. The water was soon tinted red, and he had decided that he was clean, so he stood to get out. Buffy swallowed and reached for a towel, handing it to him.
He frowned at her. What was she giving him?
She giggled slightly. It was the most beautiful noise that William had ever heard. That is, in his twenty-four hours of being back.
"To dry yourself," she explained. His look remained blank and she laughed. "Fine. I'll help. Don't you dare expect this all the time."
He grinned at her. Her laughter was enough to coax an English-Guard to laugh with her.
She started at him arm, slowly drying it, before she moved to his chest, sweeping the towel across it slowly, picking up all the water droplets. She span him around and dried his back, moving down over the curve of his butt and around his leg.
She repeated it on the other side, soon drying him. He stood before her now, naked and dry.
She smiled softly at his openness.
"Let's get you dressed then, huh? Then I can tell you about yourself. Remind you. What do you think?" she asked, picking up a pair of boxers that she had snatched from one of the bags on her way in and helping him step into them.
She pulled them up around his waist and smiled, repeating the motion with the jeans. She zipped up his fly and did up the button with the smile still on her face. She took one last, long ogle at his perfect chest before sliding his arms into the shirt and buttoning it up.
"Come now. We can go and sit on the couch and I'll tell you a little a bit about your life… or what I know of it, anyway. I promise I'll try to be nice about my distaste for… well… the murders. And I won't cry… oh. And just so you know… I haven't spoken for four years… so I'm a little rusty on the conversation thing… but in my books, you're actually supposed to talk back," she said, raising her eyebrows at him as she did up the last button. She took his hand and led him back out to the couch, where she sat him down.
She took a seat next to him, pulling her legs up under her as she curled herself up on the sofa. She turned to him and lay her head on the lounge.
"So… You aren't going to talk, huh?" she mumbled, trying to figure out exactly what to do. "Well, that's okay. I'll just babble. I have to get used to using my vocal chords again anyway. Or so says Doctor Willow. You know her actually. Or you did. She's a witch. And a lesbian."
He raised his eyebrows at that.
"Knew you'd remember that one. Everyone remembers the un-important facts…" she shook her head in mock disgust, "Anyway… she was going out with Tara. Tara… she was special. A really beautiful person. You hit her to prove that she wasn't a demon. That's because you had a chip that prevented you from harming humans.
"The chip was removed… it was causing you to have un-necessary shocks… because that's what it did. It gave you shocks to your brain to prevent you from harming humans. Except, when I died and came back… you could hit me… because… I came back wrong.
"Oh… me dying. That's a completely different story. Do you remember Dawnie? Of course you do. Dawn is my sister. She's all grown up now. Her hair's layered and streaked… she's really quite the woman… Anyway. When Dawn was about…" Buffy thought for a second. "Fifteen, I'd say… she was actually a key. Ancient monks created her into a being out of pure green mystical energy.
"They planted false memories in everyone's brains, so that it seemed that she had been with us for all of those fifteen years…but, you know, she hadn't.
"You used to sit for Dawn all the time. Watch her for me… protect her. Hey, you got beat to a bloody pulp just to keep a secret to save her… and me." Buffy drew in a breath and glanced away. "I don't know whether I should tell you this… but I will. You… you were in love with me… And hey, at first, I was just… disgusted. I mean, a soulless… thing… can't love. But you proved me wrong. Again and again…
"When I died… you counted the days… you watched Dawn… and you saved me…" her eyes filled with tears, "Or so you said. You said every night you saved me. Um…" She tried to remember exactly what he said."Not when it counted… but after that. Every night after that. And every time it was different. Faster, more clever. Dozens of times, lots of different ways." The tears spilled over her eyelids and ran down her cheeks.
"Please… can you…" she looked away, and smiled slightly through her tears, "If I asked you to hold me… would you understand?" she asked, her smile wavering as he closed his eyes.
"They need you!" Spike insisted, referring to the potential Slayers
Buffy looked at him, "Well… I"
"It's bloody chaos over there without you!" he exclaimed.
"It is?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Yeah!" he saw the progress "Yeah, it's, uh… There's junk… You know? Food cartons, sleeping bags no rolled up, everyone's very scared and… uh… unkept…"
Buffy smirked. "Sounds dire."
"I didn't see a lot…" Spike sat on the edge of the bed, beside her, "I came, hit Faith a bunch of times, and left."
"Really? I mean, not that I'm glad, but—"
"Oh, you say the word, and she's a footnote in history. I'll make it look like a painful accident," he volunteered.
"That's my problem. I say the word, and some girl dies… every time…"
"There's always casualties in war…" he told her.
"Casualties. It just sounds so...casual. These are girls that I got killed. I cut myself off from them...all of them. I knew I was gonna lose some of them and I didn't—" she shook her head and stood up, "You know what? I'm still making excuses. I've always cut myself off. I've always—" she sighed, "Being the slayer made me different. But it's my fault I stayed that way. People are always trying to connect to me, and I just slip away," she chuckled, "You should know."
Spike tilted his head. "I seem to recall a certain amount of connecting."
She shook her head. "Oh, please! We were never close. You just wanted me because I was… unattainable."
He stood angrily. "You think that's all that was?"
"Please, let's not go over the past." She sat again.
"Oh, no, no. Let's hold on there. I'm hummed along to your pity-ditty and I think I should have the mike for a bit."
"Fine. The stage is yours cheer me up."
"You're insufferable."
"Thank you. That really helped…" she said sarcastically.
"I'm not trying to cheer you up," he retorted.
"What are you trying to say?"
"I don't know. I'll know when I'm done saying it. Something pissed me off, and I just… Unattainable. That's it."
"Fine. I'm attainable. I'm an attain-a-thon. May I please just go to sleep?" she asked.
"You listen to me," he kneeled in front of her, "I've been alive a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and done things I prefer you didn't. I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls." He looked into her eyes, "A hundred plus years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of… you." Buffy looked away and he reached towards her face, "Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say, I love you, it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me." A tear rolled down Buffy's cheek, "I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy."
"I don't wanna be the one," she said quietly.
"I don't wanna be this good looking and athletic. We all have crosses to bear…" Buffy chuckled. "You get some rest now. I'll check in before first light. You can decide how you want…" he walked towards the door.
"Spike?" he turned to face her, "Could you… stay here?"
"Sure." He looked at a chair. "That diabolical old torture device, the comfy chair." He took off his coat. "It'll do me fine."
"No, I mean… here." She touched the bed beside her, "Will you just… hold me?"
William's eyes snapped open. He looked over to Buffy, with her tear stained cheeks. He watched her as she studied her hands. And he scooted over beside her, wrapping his arms around her tiny form. Whether or not he was doing it right, he didn't know.
She snuggled into his embrace, cuddling into his chest. William remembered this. That night… where she had asked the same of him. To hold her.
He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on her head, the pads of his thumbs making soothing patterns on her back.
She sighed and closed her eyes, falling into what promised to be a undisturbed slumber.
Just before she fell asleep she whispered to him softly.
"Merry Christmas, William…" she relaxed into his embrace, "Thank you…"
A/N: That's the end of that chapter. I would really appreciate reviews. Thank you.