Buffy held on to Faith tightly, using her strength to support the injured Slayer while gripping the axe-type weapon thing she had taken from Caleb's lair. Injured Potentials flanked her on both sides as they traipsed up the street towards Buffy's house.

The Slayer glanced down at the weapon in her hands. It felt good to be holding it. She knew that, somehow, it was hers. It belonged to the Slayer.

However, her biggest concern right now was getting Faith and the others back inside and safe. They had taken a heavy blow – not all of them had survived the last mission. Buffy thought back to the Vineyard and cringed. She knew how Faith would feel when she woke up. She'd feel responsible, she'd blame herself.

There are always casualties in war.

A wise man had told her that. It never rang more true than this year. It seemed to be one big loss. Molly, Annabelle, Chloe...the list went on. Buffy knew it would continue to lengthen and there was nothing she could do about it.

She reached the door to her house – the house she had been kicked out of last night – and kicked the door open. Buffy was taking it back.

People inside rushed towards the door in panic, looking only slightly relieved that it was her instead of some agent of the First. When they saw the state of the Potentials and Faith any and all relief fled from their faces. Buffy handed Faith over to Giles and Xander instructing them to take her up stairs to her room to rest.

Within moments of returning home the floor to her house was full of the casualites of this war. Some of them looking bruised and shaken, others in far worse health. Buffy took a moment to look out on the carnage before her. Then she turned away.

Anya was standing right behind her, looking sheepish. She never looked sheepish. Something was up.

"What's up?" Buffy asked simply.

"Nothing," Anya dug her hands deep in her pockets and shrugged, smiling brightly "Nothing is up. Except maybe death rates"

Buffy frowned as Anya laughed nervously.

"Anya," She said slowly "What's going on?"

The ex-demon let out a deep sigh "Oh, fine! There's no getting past that steely gaze of yours. No wonder Xander is always following your orders like a big pansy, he –"

"Anya!" Buffy interrupted sternly, worry creeping into her voice.

"I broke Spike"

"You...what?"

She started gesticulating wildly "It wasn't my fault, though! He should learn to respect that when a woman's in the bathroom, she needs some privacy!"

Buffy gaped "Are you saying Spike walked in on you?"

"Yes"

She gaped further.

Anya looked at her "What? Oh, no. Not like that. Ew. Not that he hasn't seen it all already, what with the whole sexual intercourse last year –"

"Anya," Buffy reprimanded her again, "really not wanting to rehash over that again"

"Right" She nodded "I was, well, you see I was...doing a spell"

The Slayer folded her arms "A spell? What kind of spell? Is Spike okay?"

"It was a love spell –"

"You hit Spike with a love spell?" Buffy's eyes went wide "Are you nuts? He's obsessive enough without a spell heightening things! Okay, maybe obsessive isn't the word...no, actually I think it is. Anya!"

She held up her hands "It's not what you think! It's was an anti-love spell! See, so maybe it's a good thing?"

Buffy just looked at her "An anti-love spell? Huh?"

"I was going to do a spell on myself so that I could stop loving Xander, and then proceed to have sex with many handsome and debonair males...without constantly thinking of his cute chubby face and that annoyingly sexy eye patch..."

Buffy paused "But Spike's okay, right? He's...okay?" her voice trailed off to barely a whisper at the end.

"Oh, sure, he's fine!" Anya laughed a little too gaily "Fit as a fiddler. The only thing different is that heisntinlovewithyou"

She pulled a face "What did you say?"

The brunette sighed, "He isn't in love with you anymore, Buffy."

Buffy didn't know what to say to that. She didn't even know how to feel. The Slayer just stood rooted to the spot as Anya continued to explain how it was totally not her fault. The words didn't register though.

A Potential bumped into Buffy knocking her out of her trance and she blinked, looking around. Turning away from Anya who was still babbling on, Buffy made her way towards the kitchen. Somehow she knew he was in there. It was this weird bond that had developed between them this last year and may have even been there before.

She was still holding the axe and her hands had started to sweat, making the handle slick. Buffy felt strange as she walked towards the kitchen, stepping over the bodies of fallen girls. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her breathing sounded way too loud.

And there he was.

Standing with his backto her at the microwave, watching a mug of what had to be blood turn around slowly in the machine. She was reminded of last night. They had talked, and slept together – for the first time without sex, without agenda's – just enjoying each other's company. To Buffy it had meant pretty much everything that he had come looking for her after everyone else turned away.

It made her realise, really understand, that Spike did love her. He didn't say it to get laid. He didn't say it because he thought she wanted to hear it. When he gave his heart to someone it wasn't lightly.

Last night was the first night she had actually let him love her.

"Oh, Slayer," Spike turned around, eyeing her casually "you're back. Bringing quite a commotion with you too, I see"

Slayer.

He hadn't called her that in a long time.

Just when she was getting used to them being just Buffy and Spike.

The Powers That Be hated her. It was clear.

He took a step closer, peering over her shoulder at the living room "The girls alright?"

It was simple question, but Buffy's focus was on his eyes. Now she knew.

Spike didn't love her.