DISCLAIMER: Whedon's characters, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline are not mine.

A/N: 19 September 2017

Chapters 13-18 have been edited down significantly.

The basic plot/storyline/character arcs remain the same as the original version.

[

A/N: 5 August 2016

See Chapter 12.

In this installment: Tara delivers the results, there is verbal and non-verbal communication between Spike and Buffy, and ... Sweet's three conditions will be met before this chapter ends. :) Finally!

CHAPTER 18

trust, but verify

They were sitting on a bench in a park filled with flowers in bloom. There were paths that meandered between trees that gave the occasional oasis of shade on this sunny day.

"What an amazing day! It almost doesn't seem real – like a dream somehow." Buffy turned to her companion and asked, "Why can't all days – for the rest of my life – be just like this? Feeling the sun on my face, surrounded by beauty in a peaceful place, with someone I love. Why does everything have to be so hard?"

Buffy listened as these encouraging words were spoken and then sung to her: "Someone wise beyond her years once said: The hardest thing in this world … is to live in it. Still you have to look: for the eyes on a bridge in a pouring rain; not the eyes, but the part you can't explain; for the arms you could fall into forever; for the joy that you thought you'd never know. For here at last, away you go to a man who looks for you."

Buffy immediately questioned, "Look? Look where? I wouldn't know where to begin. And how exactly do I look for someone who is looking for me? Wouldn't we just end up missing one another?"

Her companion continued: "If you find in the world – in the wide, wide world – that someone sees, that someone knows you: love." Placing a hand on the side of Buffy's face, the encourager concluded: "Love, if you can, and be loved." [1]

As the music began to fade, so did the singer. Then, the wind began to blow the leaves off of the trees and the petals from their stems. Soon, the whole park was being swept away.

Buffy was left feeling confused and abandoned. At the moment, more concerned with the instructions that had been sung to her than the fact that her surroundings had disappeared, she cried out into the emptiness around her, "I'm not sure I know how to do what you're telling me. I'm not sure I'm even capable of learning how to do that." Looking around frantically, she was now completely puzzled and panicked. "Mom! Where did you go? You have to come back and help me! Mom, please!"

Suddenly awake, Buffy sat straight up in bed. She figured there was nothing more to the dream than the fact that she had visited her mother's grave two days ago – though it was possible there could be some kind of prophetic significance to the message. She would like to think that the Powers That Be would want her to find love and happiness. But then again, since so few Slayers lived long enough … it is unlikely they would be confronted with the need to be concerned with a Slayer's happiness.

[

Spike showed up at Tara's door again. "Sorry to bother you. Just making sure that she got the … that she read the letter."

"Yes, Spike. I took it to her yesterday. She read it while I was still there." She lowered her eyes, slightly embarrassed as she said, "It was really beautiful, what you said."

"Thanks. And not that I don't appreciate what you think – but what did she think?"

"She told me to tell you that it didn't make her want to go 10 rounds with the punching bag." When he smiled at her words, she added, "She was right – not only did you know what it meant, it made you smile. Do I want to know?"

He shrugged. "That was her reaction last week to Riley's letter."

"So, this is an improvement?" Tara laughed. "Anyway, I should have something later today. Though, I'm not sure when you'll hear from her."

He bobbed his head as he simply said, "Right. Thanks." He gave her a half smile and turned to go.

[

It was early afternoon when Tara phoned and told Buffy that she was on her way over to give her the results. When Buffy had asked if she should be concerned that Tara was delivering the news in person, Tara had assured her that it was just that it would be easier to explain with visual aids.

Buffy was the only one home when Tara arrived. She led her into the dining room. "I assume you'll want the table since you said it would be show and tell."

Tara proceeded to unload her laptop, some papers, and some samples she had taken with her. "I had started to look at this purely with magic, but decided to get a little help from a friend of mine – a double major in biology and chemistry. I thought you might feel better if you had scientific evidence as well as mystical. I didn't tell her who the samples came from or that the person had been dead. I just told her that a friend had been experimenting a little above their normal level and I was concerned that it might have had an effect. She's dabbled in magic so she understood what I was getting at. Anyway, I took DNA samples the other day – from now and from an old hair brush of yours … so, pre-death. I kept one of each and gave one of each to her. First, I'll tell you her results. If you look at the charts and the images she emailed me, you'll see what she told me – which in layman's terms is this: she said that cells were altered, but they are healthy. It's like a sun tan or freckles, but it's not skin cancer. Her words. But the spell I did confirms what she found – you're the same Buffy … with a deep tropical cellular tan."

"You're sure?"

"I've double checked everything."

"I didn't come back wrong?"

"Well, I said that there was nothing wrong with you, but you are different. Funneling your essence back into your body altered you on a basic molecular level – probably just enough to confuse the sensors or whatever in Spike's chip." Tara had begun to put things back into her bag.

"Well, thanks for the info. At least, now I know for sure." Then, Buffy added with urgency, "You can't tell anyone. Please. Not yet."

"I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't do that." Just as Tara was about to leave, she said, "Oh, he dropped by again … to see if you read it. I told him what you said."

"And?"

"He smiled."

[

After Tara left, Buffy took a walk – her thoughts were too loud in the quiet house.

I think I'm finally getting a clear understanding of why Slayers don't normally have many people in their lives. It gets incredibly complicated. On the one hand, I don't know what I would have done these past couple of months without Spike – and the help and support he provided for Dawn and the others while I was gone. On the other hand, I don't know exactly how I feel about him, … but still, I don't want to push him out of my life either.

I guess that leads me to the real question: do I trust him? Can he be trusted?

He has shown himself to be trustworthy, so he can be. And therefore, I do.

I'm not sure of much else beyond that. Except that right now he is the only one I can tell how I truly feel.

Also, if he had not joined up with us, where would he be? No longer a man … and the chip keeps him from being the vampire that he once was.

"Pitiful creature of darkness. What kind of life have you known? God, give me courage to show you: you are not alone." [2]

She heard two chimes.

[

That evening, Dawn and Buffy put together a quick dinner from leftovers. Each of their plates looked more like a sampler platter than a balanced meal, but their bellies were full.

As Dawn went up the stairs to finish her homework, Buffy was putting on her jacket to go out. She took a quick look at herself in the mirror by the door – running her fingers through her hair and using her fingers to clean up some smudges around her eyes. She did not normally primp before going out to slay, but she figured that she would see Spike sometime tonight. And at some point in the past few weeks, she had begun to care how she looked when she knew she would be seeing him.

She made sure that she had her keys and a little cash in her pocket. As she was checking, she felt Spike's letter in her back pocket, where she had put it earlier. His words had given her a lot to think about. Although she had thought about it quite a bit, she was not yet sure exactly what she thought about it. Lately, her head and her heart were not quite lining up with one another.

[

Buffy made a quick sweep through a few cemeteries, but there did not seem to be much activity tonight. She decided to go the Bronze – hear some music, have a drink. She could sit and think. Or let the noise and the alcohol drown out her thoughts.

A short while later, she felt Spike arrive. He walked up to the stool where she was seated. She had difficulty finding words now that he stood before her. Faced with her silence, he was not sure what to say. He turned to walk around her, behind the stool. She spun around to intercept him before he had passed by. She still could not find the words. Taking his hand, she led him over to an empty couch in the corner.

She sat down on the couch with her legs folded under her. As he sat down near her, Spike was struck by how young she looked at that moment.

"Tara brought me the results earlier." She began tentatively, staring at her hands. She paused thinking that Spike might say something. She looked up to find that he was waiting for her to continue. After that, the words flowed more easily. She explained what Tara had found out – at least, as much as she understood it.

"Nothing wrong then? Just different?"

"That about covers it."

"So, it comes back to the issue of trust."

Buffy knew that what he had just said was true, but she didn't have the whole picture. Spike knew that everything hinged on her being able to trust him – for him to make any progress toward any of the things that future-Buffy had asked him to do.

They just sat for a while, neither feeling there was any rush. No rush to say anything, to do anything, to be anywhere.

After a couple of drinks, Spike asked Buffy to dance. It was nowhere near the formal dancing of his youth – he simply held her close to him as the pulse of the music enveloped them. At first, they were locked in each other's gaze. Then, she rested her head against his shoulder.

With one arm, he held her firmly against himself, that hand coming to rest on the back of her neck. His other hand making whisper-soft trails down her back, up the side of her torso, down her arm ... until his fingers intertwined with hers.

She pulled back to look him in the eye, trying to make sense of what she was feeling. He could tell that she was feeling overwhelmed. The dance floor had gotten too crowded. He took her by the hand and they moved back to the couch. Remembering future-Buffy's advice, he held back every aggressive instinct that threatened to direct his actions. Silently, they sat staring at one another.

Spike leaned in toward her and whispered into her ear, "Not sure how to say what you feel? Why don't you trace it on my hand? Or make a song? Do anything. Say it somehow – I will understand. I know you. I know the sound of 'touch me.' I think I hear the sound of 'wrap your arms around me.'" He leaned back to look into her eyes. He placed his hand before her – palm up, the inside of his forearm exposed. "We'll play a game – you'll trace it on my skin. Do it any way, but let's begin. Do it somehow. Somehow, you can show me. I know that you know me."

With the pad of her index finger, she began to trace swirling patterns on his palm and then his arm. He reached up with the other hand, which quickly became tangled in her hair. They were now forehead to forehead, breathlessly sighing and singing, "Ah … ah … ah …" [3]

It was the most intimate moment of Buffy's life – it did not matter that they were in a public place or that they were fully clothed. They were lost in one another's eyes and in the sound of each other's voices.

[

During the walk back to her house, they stopped at a park. They sat for a while on the swings – talking some, occasionally singing, but mostly swinging. They decided to tell the Scoobies about the chip and about them as … whatever they were.

What were they exactly? – both thought to themselves.

Arriving at her house, they stopped near a large tree in the yard. Spike pulled her to the side of the tree facing away from the house. He pinned her there, causing both of them to think of when she had pinned him to the wall while retrieving the handcuff key from his pocket. In her eyes, he could see the same desire that he had seen in future-Buffy's eyes, but this Buffy was not initiating anything. He wanted her. And she wanted him – he was certain of that. He could see it, feel it – bloody hell, he could practically taste it. However, he would not be pressing that issue any further this evening.

Giving her a wicked grin, he kissed her soundly before saying, "Goodnight."

He figured it was best to leave her wanting more – more of him, that is.

Before too long, she'll crave me the way I crave blood.

[

Back at his crypt, Spike was thinking of their time at the Bronze on the dance floor, ... the feel of her tender touch on his forearm when they were on the couch together, ... the look in her eyes as they sang to one another, ... and the way it felt to press himself against her against the tree. He longed for the day when he would make love to her again, but also when they could actually be together as a couple and be open about it with her friends. Some of that fantasy seemed closer to becoming reality than the rest of it. He reminded himself that this was progress – and progress was good, even if it was slow.

[

[

Once Dawn was off to school, Buffy got herself ready and headed over to Spike's.

When she arrived, she found him asleep in bed. He must have been sleeping soundly, because he had not even heard her come in. She hated to wake him, but they needed to talk privately before they spoke to the others later today.

She eased herself down to sit on the edge of the bed. Still not awake. She stroked his bare arm with her fingertips. That got a reaction, though only a shift in position. She tried again. Finally, his eyes began to open.

"I could get used to this – waking up to you in my bed," he said with a grin as he rolled to his side to face her, while adjusting the sheet. "To what do I owe …?"

Buffy began, "I know what we decided last night … and well, this is gonna sound bad, but I need to talk to you." As he moved to sit up so they could talk eye to eye, she continued, "This morning, I got thinking … about last night … and us … and—"

Without waiting to hear the rest, Spike interjected, "Not gonna let you overthink this, luv. Don't give in to the fear. Lean into this ... us … me." As he stroked the side of her face, her eyelids fluttered closed. He began to sprinkle kisses along her collar bone and up the side of her neck to her ear.

Buffy managed to form a few coherent phrases. "Your opinion has been ... noted for the record. And ... if you would stop … trying … to persuade me, … you can stop … need to … wish you would ... It's not necessary." She pushed him away. "I haven't changed my mind – exactly. Parameters … we just need some parameters." She could see he still did not like what he was hearing. "Let me ramble a little."

"Alright. You mind if I get dressed while you, uh, ramble?"

"No." She stood and turned her back when he started to get out of the bed. "It's a given that we need to tell them about the chip. I can't keep that kind of thing from them. Also … like we said last night … if this – us – is going to be something, we can't hide stuff from them." On the one hand, it was easier to say this when she did not have to look him in the eye. But on the other hand, she needed to see his face to know if he was understanding what she meant. "That said, I think we need to be careful about the pace at which we let them in on other stuff. Give them time to warm up to the idea. I mean, I'm not sure that they've realized that we're … that I actually like spending time with you. We can't just spring something on them like 'we're dating.'"

"So, we're dating now?"

This caused her to involuntarily turn around to face him. He did at least have pants on, but the shirtlessness would quickly become a distraction. "Not what I meant. And on that subject … there are many reasons why we need to – and I apologize for the phrase – slow things down. I'll try to explain, though in no particular order. We need each other as … I'll use the word 'coworkers.' Like it or not, with that chip in your head, the best place for you to be is on our side. You've become part of the group. You rely on us since you can't live the normal vampire life. And we rely on you. I rely on you. My friends – my other friends – are helpful, each of them in their own way. They all have strengths and talents. But in a fight, if I'm surrounded by enemies, I need someone equally strong fighting with me – back to back, so I know I just have to worry about what's in front of me. None of them, even on their best days, can be that person for me."

There was a long silence as he took in the full meaning of her words. When she had asked him to protect Dawn from Glory that was not a fluke or desperation – that was where they had come to, who they were to each other.

She continued, "If we would start some … torrid affair ... and then have a bad breakup – let's face it, with our combined history, it's a possibility. It would have an effect on the dynamic of the group – and if my luck holds, it would happen right before an apocalypse. That would not be good for me … or our efforts to save the world. As if being the Slayer weren't enough – I mean, being a normal girl is enough to handle most days. But add to that: going back to college, plus trying to parent Dawn through things I've barely gotten past myself. Well, I really don't need more drama in my life. And in my experience, relationships come with drama."

Spike finally spoke up and stopped her ramble. "What if this one didn't?" He paused long enough to tilt his head and give her a moment to consider. "I've listened to your little unaccompanied ditty for a while now. Let me have my turn – just hear me out. I was born and raised in a time when the 'slow down plan' was the norm. Truth be told, the romantic in me enjoys the slow simmer that leads to rolling boil … that leads to steam." He brought the tip of his tongue to his top front teeth and then licked his top lip. "I realize that most of my years as a vampire have been spent living … differently than that. But if this old dog could learn new tricks," he gestured to his hair and leather duster, "no reason I can't also rediscover the gentleman within." He nodded to signal that he had said his peace. "So, you'll get no argument from me."

Buffy had heard him, but felt the need to add, "It's not just about the drama, or lack thereof. It's that … if this is going to work, then I want – no, I need – for them to accept you not just as part of the group, but as part of my life. I need to know that it won't cause a problem with Dawn – 'cause I can't deal with teenage backlash when the world decides to go kablooey around us. I can't alienate my friends – one, 'cause I need them when bad stuff comes, but also because friends deserve to be treated better than that … especially because they are really more like my family."

"Do you have a plan for how to do that? Or are you asking for suggestions?"

"A bit of both I guess. I know that we have to tell them about the chip. I know we – I – need to be honest with them about how much time we're spending together … and what it means to me – you know, that we are more than patrol partners. Then, I guess we let whatever relationship is developing … happen at its own pace … out in the open." She took a deep breath as she voiced that next part of her thought. "I know you aren't going to like the comparison, but in the end, they did come to accept Angel – even after the Angelus incident. Although they did not necessarily like the thought of us as a couple, the bigger issues came when I kept things from them. I don't want to make that mistake again."

"I take your point – though you're right, I don't like the comparison. But the rest of what you said ... sounds like a good beginning of a plan."

She turned toward the ladder to go to the upper level of the crypt. "We can adjust as we go. Nothing is set in stone."

"If anyone has earned the right to use that phrase it is you – the girl whose headstone still resides in the cemetery, yet she does not." He followed her up the ladder, enjoying the view.

"You know another phrase that has new meaning for me? 'As I live and breathe.'" She shook her head as she sat down in the armchair.

"I haven't been able to use that one in over a century of Sundays." Getting down to business, Spike asked, "When are we doing this? You know, the big reveal."

"This afternoon, like we planned. I'll ask everyone to be at the Magic Box when Dawn gets out of school. I should probably talk to them first – without you. But maybe you could be waiting in the basement? We can do immediate follow-up questions – that way they don't have time to stew over it."

He stretched out a hand to help her up from the chair. "Until this afternoon, then," he said as he kissed the back of her hand. He led her to the door and opened it for her, bowing slightly as she passed by him and through the doorway.

[

Shortly before it was time for Dawn to get out of school, Spike made his way through the tunnels toward the Magic Box. He had a moment's pause when he thought that perhaps he should not be looking forward to this meeting. The Scooby Gang could take this all wrong – which would be bad on many levels. But he felt confident that Tara would back them up about the chip … and he wanted to be confident of Buffy's feelings for him. So, he was choosing to remain optimistic.

[

When Tara arrived at the Magic Box, she and Buffy had a brief conversation in the training room. Buffy let her know that she had talked to Spike last night about the results and saw him again today to clarify how to approach this with the others. She made it clear to Tara that she had determined she could trust Spike, in spite of the issue with the chip.

Not long after, Dawn had arrived from school, followed by Xander and Willow, who was a bit surprised to see Tara. It was clear Buffy was about to convene the meeting which she had called. Giles and Anya stopped working and joined the others around the table.

Just as Buffy began to speak, she could sense that Spike was waiting in the basement like they had talked about. She started to tell her friends about the chip – beginning with the statement: "Before you overreact to anything you are about to hear, you need to know that I am fine and I am perfectly safe."

Giles looked around, meeting the eyes of the others who were gathered. "You do know that saying something like that will just make us worry?"

"Well, don't." She took a deep breath and launched in. "Something happened the other night during the spell – other than just the spell. It made me … curious about something. Not necessarily concerned, but I needed to investigate." Gesturing to Tara, she continued, "I enlisted some help to get to the bottom of things. And the result is that I am fine. There's nothing wrong with me. But I am different since I came back from … being gone … being dead. You know, it's always gonna be weird to say that out loud." She shook her head and continued. "Anyway, because I'm different … something has changed. In my opinion and based on my recent experiences, it's not a problem … and it won't be a problem. But all of you need to know about it."

Xander huffed, "You gonna tell us already? What's the big?"

"If you want to see the evidence that I'm fine – that I did not … come back wrong in any way, Tara can show you test results – both scientific and magical. But my cells are different than you would find in a normal … living … breathing … human." She said these last words deliberately as she made eye contact with Giles. As expected, he understood what she was implying.

"If I understand you correctly … since you have been back these past months, Spike's chip no longer works with regard to you. And therefore, he could attack you at any time without the chip inflicting pain upon him?"

"To put it bluntly? Yes." She held his gaze, "But there are a couple of things I should add. One, we did not figure this out until we were under the spell the other night. And two, …"

"Wait, how exactly did you figure it out?"

"When he and I went out to lead the vampires away … in the midst of the fight that took out my living room window, he went into vamp face. I hit him because at that point – without any memories – he became my enemy. After I hit him a few times, he naturally fought back. After we had regained our memories, I tried to puzzle my way through it, decided there were at least a few possible explanations. I went and talked to him … and we were able to rule out a couple. That's when he suggested, and I agreed, that we should get some help from Tara."

Anya asked, "Why Tara? Just curious."

"He felt she would be less likely to preemptively stake him without hard evidence."

"That was wise of him," the ex-demon commented.

Giles spoke up, "You said there was a second thing."

"Yes, he could have hurt me or any of us at any point in time, but he hasn't. He could have hired someone or just not helped us when we needed him. But he's been loyal to me, to us, in the face of brutal beating and much of the demon community turning on him." She looked down at her feet before adding, "I'm not concerned about this and I don't think you should be either. He places his trust in us every time he comes near us, trusting that we won't dust him. I've grown to trust him. If you don't yet, I hope that you will soon. Because he's not going anywhere. We need him."

She knew from the looks she was getting that they were concerned, though for differing reasons.

Dawn raised her hand and asked, "But his chip still works on everyone else?"

"Yes."

Xander perked up, "That's why you had him whack me on the back of the head the other night!"

"Yes."

Anya added practically, "So, you're the only one who's in any danger."

"Well, I would disagree with your wording. I don't think I'm in any danger, but yes, I am the only he can hit without giving himself a migraine."

Willow's eyes filled with regret. "This is all my fault. I brought you back. It's my fault you're different, that he can hit you."

"Again, true, but not the wording I would use. I think it's time to move past blame and guilt. Get on with living. Deal with things as they come. This is one of those things."

[

From the basement stairs, Spike was listening to her explain and defend. It warmed his unbeating heart.

"I will never understand what I did to deserve you or how to be the man that I'm supposed to be. I will never understand, if I live a thousand lifetimes, why you did the things you did for me. Just look at you – how could I not be in love with you? " [4]

A moment later, he heard her coming toward the door. She opened it and held out her hand to him.

He tilted his head and returned her smile. "Well, here we go."

Buffy said to the group, "Alright, I know that telling you that I trust him will only go so far toward convincing you. So, you're going to watch while we spar a little in the training room."

"While we what?" Spike questioned. "You didn't mention this part of the program, luv."

"I promise to use the plastic stake."

"Funny."

Giles interjected, "Do you really think this is wise?"

"Well, you can either watch us fight now in a controlled environment. Or you can be out on patrol with us and try to keep an eye on what he might be doing to me while you should be keeping an eye on your opponent. Which do you think is more wise?"

Xander quipped, "She's got ya there."

When they began, their movements were tentative and Spike was only using about half strength on her, like he had previously.

This annoyed Buffy. She swept his legs out from under him and ordered him, "Would you just go ahead – break out with the lumpies and the teeth already … and come at me full force. I'll know if you're holding back. Only rules are that you can't draw blood and I can't impale you with a wooden stake. Come on, bleach boy, let's go!"

"You're sure?" When she replied with a nod, he added, "Alright, just remember you asked for it."

Neither of them really thought about how long they had been fighting, but it lasted nearly half an hour. It felt good for both of them to let loose like that.

Spike found himself thinking: This is the most exquisitely beautiful and agonizingly painful interaction – it's like extended foreplay.

There were a few moments when they found themselves in positions that would have been awkwardly appealing if they had been alone, but in front of the others, they did not allow themselves to linger in those positions.

Buffy called out to Giles, "Five more minutes, okay? Tell us when time's up."

Just as the last minute was winding down, Spike came running at Buffy – charging at her with his head down, plowing his shoulder into her abdomen and pushing her across the room into the wall. It knocked the wind out of her, but he still expected her to hit back immediately.

When she did not, he looked her straight in eyes and asked tenderly, "Are you alright? Did I hit you too hard that time?"

"No, I'm fine. But this might be a convenient time to call truce."

Before Spike stepped back, he whispered in her ear, "Let me know if you want a backrub later."

She smacked him on the arm and said softly, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you did this on purpose … for that very reason."

Giles could not hear what they were saying, but he watched the interaction and realized that somewhere along the way, they had become friends. She did trust him. It seemed that the rest of them would have to learn to trust him too.

"Spike, would you mind staying in here while we talk to Buffy in the other room?" Giles asked with genuine politeness.

"Go right ahead."

Tara stayed behind to talk briefly with Spike when the others left the room. A few minutes later, she ducked out the back door, having asked him to say goodbye to Buffy for her.

Giles and the others had to agree that it appeared she could trust Spike. Even when he got angry after she got in a good hit, he never did anything to endanger her. The girls were particularly touched by the fact that he had spoken to her with such affection after he slammed her into the wall. Though the Scoobies were not completely sold on the idea of trusting him themselves, they would take a "wait and see" attitude.

Buffy replied to their comments, "I want you to know that I do understand why all of you feel protective of me."

There was a group hug that followed solo and ensemble singing about the fact that they have become a family, supporting each other and gaining strength from one another.

After this, Giles felt the need to say something. In a serious and fatherly tone, he assured Buffy, "If Spike ever does anything to harm you, I will have no qualms about dusting him."

"Understood. But please be sure you have your facts straight before taking action." She gave each of them a thoughtful look. "You need to understand that he and I have … well, we've been spending quite a bit of time together. More than you realize, more than just patrolling or him helping at the house. I didn't mean to keep it from you. Not like we were hiding anything, just that … well, you weren't around to see it. Anyway, he and I have become …" What had they become? "It's not just that I trust him to fight alongside me. We've spent a lot of time together talking. I needed to sort through some things when I first got back – I needed someone who would just let me talk. He did. He listened. And over the past ... well, honestly going back to before I died ... I've come to depend on him. That may be hard for you to understand. Perhaps, hard for you to accept. But it's the truth."

They heard three chimes.

Giles suddenly got up and walked over to his desk to find something. He came back with a piece of paper where he had written down the three conditions that Sweet, the dancing demon, had given for breaking the singing portion of the spell. After reading through them again, he said, "You did all hear the three chimes just now?"

Everyone nodded that they had.

"I think Buffy just fulfilled the third condition: speak the truth, though there may be repercussions."

Xander stated, "There was one chime when we were boarding up the window."

Anya added, "Right. That was when Tara was … um, leaving."

Giles looked at the paper, "Yes, the first one was: stand on your own, though it's hard…" he did not read the last phrase aloud, thinking it might upset Willow: '… because it's right.'

Buffy added, "The other day when I was thinking through … some stuff. When I reached my conclusion, there were two chimes."

Giles nodded. "The second and only remaining condition: examine your heart, though you fear what you might find."

Dawn said, with a slight ring of sadness in her tone, "Does that mean the singing extravaganza is over?"

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes as he said, "It would appear so." Thinking to himself, Thank God! "Since Buffy mentioned to me that she saw that van again the other night, we should probably return to trying to figure out the odd occurrences that go back to when she first saw the van – the strange stuff on campus, when she was working here at the store and at the construction site."

After that, as the others were heading in their separate directions to go on with their regularly scheduled day, Buffy went back into the training room. She found Spike reclining on the couch as he had been the night she had handcuffed him – an image that popped back into her mind.

He turned his head toward her. "Since none of them came in here to dust me, I'm assuming your little talk went well?"

"Yes, though you should know that …"

"That if I harm one hair on your head, they'll stake me good and proper? Yeah, figured as much. And to be expected really."

They walked back through the store together. Buffy even went down to the basement with him to access the tunnels.

After a couple minutes of silence, he asked, "You're sure that you're okay? After hitting the wall earlier?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "I'll be fine. A little sore right now, but nothing to worry about."

"See you later to patrol?"

"Yeah, I'll swing by your place."

"Or I could come over after you've made sure that Dawn has finished her homework."

She smiled as she replied, "Either is fine." She turned to go back up into the store.

He watched her as she walked away and then continued his walk home.

[

At sunset, Spike made his way over to the Summers' residence. On the way, he was preparing … he had been preparing on and off these past couple of hours, attempting to find just the right wording to suggest that they go out for dinner before patrolling. He was no longer the man he had been when he was human – and he no longer lived in that era. He had in fact changed much with the times, but the romantic heart of a poet seemed to still beat within his chest. Although he longed for the day when he and Buffy would be together intimately, he relished the idea of the 'slow down plan' because the thought of romancing a Slayer was rather enticing. He would dust off every romantic notion and whim he had ever dreamt up – perhaps not the formality of old-fashioned courting, but he would continue to woo her … and in the end, win her.

Yet for all his grand plans, flowery words failed him as she opened the door and he gazed at her again. "So, I was thinking … something to eat and then patrol?"

"I could eat." Without a bit of ceremony, she grabbed her jacket, said goodbye to Dawn, and closed the door behind her.

They rode his motorcycle to a new bistro that had opened up while she was dead.

After the hostess seated them, they only had a moment to look at the menu when the waitress arrived at their table to fill their water glasses and tell them about the specials. "You two wouldn't happen to be vegetarians would you?"

Buffy and Spike exchanged glances and shook their heads "no" in reply.

"Well, I'll have to try to sell you on the specials anyway. You see the chef and our produce buyer got their signals crossed or something because we have more vegetables in the kitchen than we know what to do with. Maybe he got some kind of amazing deal at the market – who knows. But good grief! Greens, greens, and nothing but greens: parsley, peppers, cabbages and celery, asparagus and watercress and fiddleferns and lettuce!"

Buffy and Spike exchanged glances again – this time shaking their heads in disbelief. The waitress had just spontaneously spouted a song; they had both heard it.

Spike interjected, "I'm sorry to stop you, miss. But are you aware that you just sang? Well, more precisely, rapped."

"Yeah – of course, I am."

"Damn, I thought this crazy thing was over." Buffy muttered under her breath.

"You mean that strange thing that's been going on for almost two weeks now … where everybody has been singing and dancing – telling their deepest darkest secrets to any random passerby ... and last week, sometimes turning into flickering whirling dervishes? If you are talking about that, oh yeah – all of that stopped sometime before I started my shift."

"But then, what was that … that just came out of your mouth?"

"Sorry. Occupational hazard. I don't really like perpetuating a stereotype, but I'm not a waitress – I mean obviously, I'm a waitress. But I'm actually an actress. I got cast today as the Witch in a production of Into the Woods. So, her rap in the "Prologue" about greens has been rolling around in my head – sometimes it's the Bernadette Peters version, sometimes it's someone else I've heard do the role … because I'm not sure that her voice is the best fit … I mean, she's an amazing performer … but with the rap and … uh, but that's another story. Never mind. Anyway. [5] I've got Sondheim on the brain and his words keep finding their way to the tip of my tongue." Looking at their perplexed expressions, "And sorry – again! I'm babbling. Are you ready to order?"

Without looking down at the menu, Spike said, "If you have steak, I'll take the most tender cut you have, as rare as you can bring it – the bloodier the better. And any kind of fried onion."

"Okay, I think I can accommodate that. And for you, miss?"

"The salad with grilled salmon."

After the waitress collected the menus they had barely consulted and walked toward the kitchen with their order, Spike said to Buffy, "I guess from now until the end of time, we are going to be paranoid every time someone bursts into song."

"People really do need to be careful what they wish for," Buffy said as she shook her head.

"Indeed. And to think you lot consider Watcher-boy the more levelheaded of your group. Just thought I'd point out that sometimes a little knowledge is a dangerous thing – and a lot of knowledge can be … well, it's just highly unsafe, is what it is. You should take away his books. And his record collection – though don't throw them away. Wouldn't mind having some of his LPs from the '60s. He had decent taste in those days."

They bantered their way through dinner talking about anything and everything, as long as it had nothing to do with musicals or demon fighting. It was a pleasant diversion from the previous weeks. Spike was quite a skilled conversationalist, though he did not get to practice this lost art very often. He would happily practice his diversionary tactics on Buffy any day. For a glimpse of her smile and the sound of her laughter – there is nothing he would not do.

[

After dinner, they completed rounds through multiple alleys and cemeteries without much incident. They were a couple blocks from her house when Buffy realized that he could have – but had not – just headed back to his crypt.

"You know you don't need to walk me home, right?"

"Know that. Don't mind. I enjoy the company. Been enjoying it all evening, in fact."

"Me too," she said softly.

When they arrived at the house, he stopped on the lowest step as she continued toward the door.

Before walking through the doorway, she turned and said, "Goodnight."

He replied simply, "Sweet dreams."

Spike stood there alone in front of her house – which he had done so many times – listening to the sounds just on the other side of the door. Dawn was talking to Buffy about what was on the tv: the 1962 film version of The Music Man.

"Hey, I know you're probably sick to death of musicals at this point. But I heard someone singing something from this last week and so when I saw it in the tv listings … Do you mind?"

Buffy sat down on the couch next to her sister, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl Dawn was holding. "In their proper context, musicals are fine. They don't need to be extinct – perhaps just confined … as securely as possible." Checking the time, she added, "I don't mind you watching for a little while, as long as all your homework is completely done and you don't stay up too late."

Shirley Jones was on the screen singing goodnight and sweet dreams to her someone, though she had not yet fallen in love or even met him.

Dawn babbled about the song: "Do you think there really is someone out there for everyone? Can you really watch for the first star of the evening and wish them goodnight? Do you think I've met my someone already? This whole love thing is weird, isn't it? I mean, like in real life, not just in musicals."

Buffy replied, knowing that Spike was outside listening to their conversation. "Yes, love is weird and life is hard. I have no idea if you've met your someone, but I do hope there's a someone for each of us. I don't know if the first star has anything to do with it, but there can't be any harm in looking at the sky as it turns from day to night, thinking of your someone and wishing them well."

As she had been talking, she reached behind the couch and pulled back the curtain slightly, pretending to look at the sky. Although the large center window was still boarded up, awaiting replacement, the smaller windows on either side had been spared. Through one of those side windows, Buffy made eye contact with Spike for a moment. He blew her a kiss and mouthed the words "sweet dreams" before turning and disappearing into the night.

As he walked back to his crypt, he found himself whistling a melody while hearing the lyrics in his head: Seventy-six trombones led the big parade … [6]

A/N:

Chapter 19: the return of Amy ... who introduces Willow to Rack, someone gets a new roommate, and Spike's progress continues.

Until next time …

~Jen

5 August 2016

SONGS in this chapter:

[1] The Light in the Piazza (2005 Broadway) "Fable"

[2] The Phantom of the Opera (1986 West End / 1988 Broadway / 2004 film) "The Point of No Return (reprise)"

[3] The Light in the Piazza (2005 Broadway) "Say It Somehow"

[4] Parade (1998 Broadway / 2007 West End) "All the Wasted Time"

[5] Into the Woods (1987 Broadway / 1990 West End / 1991 tv / 2014 film) "Prologue"

[6] The Music Man (1957 Broadway / 1961 West End / 1962 film and 2003 tv) "Seventy-Six Trombones"