Angel stood in the doorway, his hair mere inches from the top of the doorframe, his broad shoulders seeming to swell larger in his obvious shock and jealousy.

Buffy's cheeks flushed, but the pair remained frozen in their compromising position. Noticing the half-dozen red roses he held, her embarrassment was joined by a flood of guilt, and she dropped her eyes to the floor. She sat up slowly, keeping the blanket over her chest, unable to meet his eyes. "I was coming to find you." she rasped. Behind the blanket, Spike sat up with her, winding a protective arm loosely around her waist in support; he was uncharacteristically silent.

"I was coming home to call you," he shifted his feet. "And… change."

Buffy, with another pang of guilt, noticed his ripped clothing, the touch of blood on his pale blue shirt.

He waved his hand dismissively, a couple rose petals drifting to the floor, seeing the location of her gaze. "I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just work… I had to take care of something on my way..."

The discomfort between them filled the room like smoke. Angel stepped forward to allow the door to close behind him, and nearly stumbled. It was his turn to flush, heat rising in his chest and cheeks as he realized that he had almost tripped over a short black dress and matching bra set, tangled together just shy of the doorway. The heat spread as his eyes roamed the room. Buffy's toes were almost touching Spike's dark-wash jeans, which were still lying in a heap on the floor. Spike's fitted blue shirt was nowhere to be seen. They certainly didn't waste any time.

Seeing the other vampire's flashing eyes, Spike's body tensed. Their eyes met, for the first time since Angel had entered the room. Months of tension, frustration, and quippy slights running through each of their minds, the situation they found themselves in now was a poetic culmination of events. "Angel, I -" his voice was soft, but the warning was clear.

Spike was cut off by Angel's sudden bounding step towards him. His fighter's instincts taking over, he jumped to his feet. The blanket getting caught in his grip as he did so. Buffy yelped as she was momentarily uncovered, yanking the blanket back onto herself with all her strength. Now it was Spike who stood, fully uncovered, in full view of them both. Refusing to allow himself to feel any humiliation, he clenched his jaw, and met the other man's gaze with equal ferocity, until Angel's eyes finally dropped to the floor. Smirking at her playfully despite her clear disapproval, Spike took his jeans from Buffy's outstretched hand, stepping into them in graceful motions, his eyes never leaving Angel.

Angel shouldered past him, sinking into the couch, shaking his head. Spike finally turned back to Buffy, who was still curled up on the floor, as small as she could make herself. Still watching Angel out of the corner of his eye, Spike put out a hand, helping her gently to her feet.

"Get your pretty little dress, love" he said quietly. "I'll show you to my room, we'll give you a minute." Glancing back occasionally, he kept his hand on the small of her back as he guided Buffy along protectively, nodding to the room she had slept in during her previous visits. Spike watched the door close behind her, missing her the moment it did, despite the obvious distraction of the large, angry man sitting to his left.

The two men stood glaring at each other for several minutes, Spike again wishing for a cigarette.

"I'd never hurt her, you know." Angel's words were laced with venom. The protective glances towards Buffy had not been lost on him.

"I know, Angelus." Spike's voice, in contrast, was even-tempered. A week before, hell, an hour before, he would have let his famous temper run his mouth in a situation such as this. Now, though? He couldn't quite put his finger on how he felt, but his usually wild competitive streak that Angel so frequently triggered was purring contentedly in his chest. Is this what it feels like to be happy? It's been so long.

Surprised by his rival's rare display of restraint, Angel gritted his teeth, working to regain control of himself. "How… did this… happen?"

"You tell me." Spike leaned up against the doorway. "I didn't exactly know she was coming."

"When did she get here?"

Spike smirked, the words out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Oh about thirty, forty minutes ago?"

"You work fast." Angel's knuckles were white.

"Work?" Spike stepped towards him, the purring in his chest morphing into a snarl. "She isn't a job, or a bloody conquest. Don't you think for one moment that I love that woman less than you do, you wank-"

"Spike, take a walk." Buffy stepped from the hall, looking hauntingly beautiful in the light that seeped in from the setting sun. Wordlessly, Spike obeyed. He met her eyes questioningly before closing the apartment door, and she smiled at him slightly, attempting to reassure him enough to allow him to leave the two former lovers alone without worry. They had a lot to discuss.

Buffy waited for Angel to speak, but he just looked at her, not knowing where to start, how he wanted to begin their discussion of events.

"How is he here?" she realized finally what she really wanted to discuss.

"The amulet." Angel twisted in his position uncomfortably. "A few months ago… we received it at Wolfram and Hart, with a bit of a stowaway onboard. It had kept him alive… somewhat."

"Months ago? MONTHS?" Buffy's voice was rising with every word. "And you didn't tell me? You knew I was grieving him, you had this giant news, and you DIDN'T TELL ME?" Buffy's volume dropped suddenly. "He didn't… he didn't tell me either. He's been alive for months, and he didn't try to contact me? Why would he do that?"

Spike flung the door wide, stepping back into the room. "Bit too much sun for me still, sweetheart, what did you expect?" he said, responding to her withering look. "Look, I shouldn't have listened, but I need to explain. Please, give me a chance."

She nodded. She needed to hear his explanation just as badly as he needed to give it.

"Buffy I wanted to. Believe me, I wanted to. The first thing I did when I realized I was back, somehow, was holler at Angel that he 'couldn't keep you from me.' I even tried to take a swing at him for good measure." Angel's head bowed briefly in acknowledgement. "But I wasn't… physical… when it brought me back at first; I was like a bloody ghost. I couldn't even smack the smug look off of this prick's face when he started in on me. By the time Peaches here and his crew made me a real boy again, I had gotten into my own head. I was too damn scared to find you."

"Scared? Of WHAT?" Angel caught her eye as he slipped out of the room, Buffy nodded at him gratefully. This wasn't about him.

"C'mon, Buffy… You know why." his voice was somber. "Last time you saw me, you thought the whole damn world was ending. I was scared that… that was all we were. I couldn't handle it, being dragged back to life, and going right back to being your little piece of cold comfort."

Buffy's temper flared, but she felt it fading as she looked at him, the pleading evident in his eyes. I've been such a bitch.

"I needed to be more to you. If I couldn't be that, I wanted to stay a hero in your eyes. At least, that's how I hoped you would remember me." He concluded his speech with a gloomy smile, melting the last bit of icy resentment she held against him.

Despite herself, Buffy found herself smiling back. "Spike…" she stepped closer, until she was directly in front of him, leveling with him as closely as she could, given the difference in their heights. "I love you." she said firmly.

"A few dozen more of those, pet, and I'll believe you." Spike's grin took on a rather impish quality as he stepped closer.

"You're going to give me a sore throat tonight, aren't you?" Spike's eyebrows raised, and his smile jumped from impish to wicked. "NOT like that." she quickly added, but it was too late, they were both lost to helpless giggling.

Spike pulled her into a tight hug, resuming his stroking of her hair as their laughter slowed, both of them realizing happily how long it had been since either of them had laughed that much. "I missed you, pet." he whispered, still smiling "I haven't had this much fun since our last apocalypse."

"Not the best choice of dates, but I'm sure you'll make it up to me." She buried her head in his chest, smiling to herself as she listened to Spike's quiet laughter starting up again.