Chapter 33

I try to get back to sleep after Dawn goes, but I know it's a lost cause. I don't get up though, because that'd just let Dawn know she won, and we can't have that. There are certain rules when it comes to dealing with sisters.

And so I lie there, thinking about everything that's happened recently. It's all so huge – everything – from the disappearance of the Slayers to the finding that Spike's still on this earth to ...

It's no good. I'm just not the girl to worry about multiple problems at one time. I need to focus. And, on the grounds that there are plenty of people currently focussing on the other Slayers, I turn my thoughts to something rather more personal.

Last night. Everything about it – all of yesterday in fact – was perfect. Ok, not so perfect wading my way through bits of Fyarl, but the rest of it was amazing. I fit so well with Spike. We chatted, we laughed, we enjoyed the scenery, but when we were quiet, it was a comfortable quiet. I didn't feel like I had to do anything other than just be me.

I've got other friends. Willow and Xander stuck with me through everything, but there was always this thing where I was the Slayer. Somehow, it was up to me to fulfil their expectations. Spike doesn't seem to have any or at least none that leave me feeling uncomfortable.

And slaying with him brought back every memory of before. All those times

when killing demons was just a strange sort of foreplay. By the time we got back here, I desperately wanted to be with him, but I couldn't invite him in here – not when I'm sharing a room with Dawn. I had no choice but to wait and see if he'd invite me into his place, but despite ample evidence that he was feeling the same way I did, there was no invitation.

I did consider going and knocking on his door afterwards – just waiting until he answered and then kissing him again, but that had too many overtones of our history, with me leading, taking what I wanted without giving him a choice. So, instead, I came in here, listened to Dawn breathing, and desperately wished I was with him instead.

I'm pulled from those thoughts by the sound of the front door slamming. Funny how a girl who's made progress in so many ways still seems not to believe that a door's closed unless people for miles around heard it. It's probably as well she isn't a Slayer, or no door anywhere would be safe. By the sound of it, she doesn't go upstairs, and I strain to hear something to indicate her intention when I pick up the sound of another door opening – Spike's. Typical. I won't tell her about what happened yesterday, so she goes to ask Spike. Of course, since nothing really happened, Spike won't be as soft a touch as she thinks.

I pull the duvet up to my shoulders and give sleep another go, but when I hear another door slamming followed by a less-that-stealthy tread on the stairs, I know Dawn's gone upstairs to the Council office, and the guilt I'd managed to suppress in considering the Spike problem comes back. There are Slayers who need rescuing, and I've got no business lying in bed.

I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom, where a shower restores me to something like normality. When I reach the kitchen, Moira's already busy, chopping vegetables, but immediately stops that to put the kettle on for me.

"Can I make you some breakfast?" she asks. "There're eggs, or porridge if you prefer. Or toast?"

"Toast'd be fine," I answer. "But I'll do it. What're you making?"

"Soup. Carrots and turnip to add to the broth mix I left out to soak overnight. I've got some nice mutton stock in the fridge."

I'm not altogether sure what to make of that, but get a couple of slices of bread and put them into the toaster before making some coffee. While I'm waiting for the toast to finish, Moira asks about the night before.

I give her the details about our drive around, remembering as many place names as I can, then get to the Fyarl lair, and tell her what we found.

"And you say Spike's got some of the bits of glass?" she asks when I get to that point.

"Yes ... no. I've got them. I put them in my purse when we got back to the car."

"Can I see them?"

"Sure," I answer before going back to the bedroom to retrieve them. We wrapped them in plastic, but to be honest, there's not much to see.

Moira carefully takes the shards from me, and oddly, closes her eyes.

"Spike said they had a smell besides nail polish remover," I remember as I watch her.

"They may well do, but there's a distinct aura of magic about them. I'd wager that whatever knocked out those Fyarls wasn't purely chemical in nature."

She unwraps one of the shards then, and sniffs it cautiously. She pulls her head back quickly as if bitten by something.

"What's wrong?" I ask, going to her quickly as she almost staggers backwards.

"Still potent," she says, shaking her head as if to regain her wits. "Even in tiny quantities, it's potent. Did you notice anything last night?"

"No. I could smell something, but ..."

"Could be that the effect has been concentrated by being wrapped up, and then again, a Slayer and a vampire are bound to have greater resistance than a mere mortal."

"Are you ok?" I ask.

"I will be. I just need to sit down for a minute."

I help her to a chair. It's funny, I know Moira's easily old enough to be my grandmother, but I've never considered for a moment that she might be frail. She's always seemed so strong and in control, and by the time she's been sitting for a couple of moments, she seems back to normal.

I eat my breakfast while Moira finishes preparing her soup, and then, after making sure she's really ok, I go upstairs to see how things are going.

Spike's already there, on the phone, talking, by the sound of it, to one of his contacts. Dawn's nose is buried in a book, while Giles is reading something on a computer screen.

I approach him and pull out the shards which have been re-wrapped in plastic. I explain the effect they had on Moira, and he agrees to get them checked out. When he's put the shards in some packaging, he returns his attention to the computer, pulls up an email and invites me to read it.

My chat with Phillip yielded something interesting. I'm on the first flight up – it's too important to give details here or to entrust to someone else. Flight details BD002, getting into Glasgow at 10.05.

Angel

"He's coming here?" I ask.

"That's what it says. Gus has gone to get him. Should be here soon."

"And using email?"

"Well, it's come from my secretary's email address, but I did tell her to help him if required."

"Who should be here soon?" Spike asks. He's finished his call, and is looking expectantly at us.

"Angel," I answer.

"Why? What's he need to come here for?"

"He says he's got something interesting from Philip that he doesn't trust anyone else to bring. Gus went to get him." I'm trying to show Spike that it's all perfectly reasonable, when I'm not altogether sure myself.

"You said Gus was out on an errand," he looks at Giles accusingly.

"And so he is," Giles replies, his voice deceptively mild.

"You didn't think I needed to know he was coming?"

"I thought Buffy needed to know first. Since she's obviously happy for you to have that information, then I have no reason to keep it from you."

"Why would I ...?" I'm genuinely confused, but Giles interrupts.

"Buffy, I don't know what's going on with you and Angel but I think it's only fair to give you some warning that two of your past ... love interests ... are liable to be in the same place at the same time – especially when they have a history of rather disliking one another."

"So, you thought, what? That she'd get me out of the way so I didn't upset poor little Angel?"

"Spike, I didn't think anything in particular. I merely wished to save Buffy the pain of having the two of you trying to knock lumps out of one another."

"Spike," my voice seems to be getting through his mounting rage – rage that I know perfectly well is being fuelled by insecurity. "Angel's coming to pass something on to us. That's all, as far as I'm concerned, although I would appreciate it if I didn't have to come to his rescue. I don't think he'd be any match for you in a fight now, so I really couldn't let you hurt him."

He takes a deep breath. "Not worth the effort, then," he murmurs before standing. "I've got to go and meet someone. Probably nothing, but he refuses to talk on the phone. Should be back in a couple of hours."

I follow him out to the top of the stairs. "Spike, I've already made my decision as regards Angel. We might not have come to any decisions regarding us, but that doesn't change anything between me and Angel. You do know that, don't you?"

He smiles at that, but it's a self-conscious smile. He points at his head.

"In here, I know it. Other parts," he moves his finger lower, to his heart, "maybe not so sure. But there's no doubt on this side, Buffy. I love you, and if we've got any chance of making a go of things this time, of getting it right, then, far as I'm concerned, there's no decision to be made. I'm in. Only question is whether you're in it with me."

"I am," I say quietly. "We need to take it carefully, but if we've got a chance, then I want it. I'm in too."

His expression changes suddenly then, becoming that awe-struck, glowing one that I can remember seeing so rarely in the past. He kisses me then, and it's enough to set my world spinning. When he finally lets me go, I'm breathless.

"I've got to go," he says.

"I know. But Spike ..."

"Yeah?"

"I've got this little problem. Dawn snores. Do you think maybe I could ... come over to you tonight and see if I can get some sleep?"

"Course you can," he says with a slight tremor in his voice. "Not sure it'll be a guarantee of getting more sleep, but ..."

"See you later," I say before kissing him once more on the lips and returning to the office.