A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! You guys are amazing, and I'm glad a little Xander hate doesn't bother you. This chapter was another fun one to write. Enjoy!


Buffy watched the sun rise from her spot in a chair in the living room. She had not slept since the passing of her mother two days prior; every time she closed her eyes, she saw the lifeless expression on her deceased mother's face. She had seen hundreds of dead bodies, but none have affected her like the corpse of her mother.

As difficult as it was for her, she could only imagine how much pain Dawn was in. It was Dawn, after all, who had found their mother's body, and Dawn who had spoken with the EMTs. The whole experience must have been agonizing in ways Buffy couldn't understand.

She heard Spike's footsteps—panther-like as opposed to the stampeding sound of Dawn—on the stairs. Wordlessly, he sat in the other chair in the room, and Buffy was grateful that he avoided sitting on the couch. As it was, she was going to find a way to replace that couch as soon as possible.

They sat in relatively comfortable silence, watching the light rays of the rising sun erase the street's shadows.

"I have to go pick out a casket today," Buffy finally whispered. This was the part she had been dreading. She had seen a great many caskets; the thought never occurred to her that she would be forced to put her mother in one. I guess most people my age don't think about their parent's funerals yet. She shook off the thought. This was no time for self-pity.

"I can go with you if you'd like," Spike offered. To her surprise, Buffy felt grateful. Spike had become a pillar of strength for her. She tried not to dwell on that weird thought.

"Thank you," she simply said. Spike nodded in response, and they returned to silence.

"Okay. I have no idea what to put her in," Buffy muttered, sifting through her mother's dresser drawers. Everything that seemed appropriate was also unbearably depressing, and Buffy was sure that her mother wouldn't have wanted that.

"Why do you women have so damn many clothes?" Spike wondered aloud from the closet, audibly shoving several hanging garments aside. Buffy shot him a look that he couldn't see and continued on her seemingly pointless search.

As the day had been substantially cloudy, she had been able to go to the funeral home and pick out a casket for her mother, a simple but elegant red cedar one with white velvet interior. As far as something one puts dead bodies in, it was quite nice. Buffy was endlessly thankful for her friends, all of whom had taken time to be at the funeral home with her. Even Xander had gone, although Buffy wasn't sure if that was in support of her or because it was an opportunity to verbally harass Spike without fear of repercussions. Willow and Tara had suggested that Dawn spend the night with them to get out of the house a bit; they were in the midst of watching stupid comedies and gorging themselves on chocolate.

"Wait. What about this one, love?" Spike asked. Ignoring the term of endearment, she turned to look.

Spike was holding out a light pink blouse with three-quarter-inch sleeves. It had been one of Joyce's favorite blouses; tasteful, but comfy.

"Perfect," Buffy said softly. She got to her feet and went to the walk-in closet. It took her less than three seconds to find what she was looking for: a pair of black trousers that she had once told her mom her butt looked great in. She smiled slightly at the memory.

"Okay. Now to find some jewelry." She knew just the piece; her mother had a gold and diamond necklace that she was especially fond of—Buffy and Dawn had gotten it for her as a joint Mother's Day gift several years previously. Neither of them would have any use for it; it seemed only natural that it be laid to rest with Joyce. She strode back to the dresser and reached for the wooden jewelry box, opening the top compartment and drawers in search of the necklace. In the second drawer, that was a folded piece of paper. Curious, Buffy unfolded it.

The paper was from Joyce's stationary, the kind that was kept next to the phone for messages. It was decorated with daisies around the edges, and in the center was Joyce's neat cursive.

Buffy,

We have already talked about my wishes, if I should pass away. Rather than talk about it again, I'm writing you this letter. I'm sorry if that seems cowardly of me. Hopefully, the worst is over now, and this note will never be necessary.

I want to have a nighttime funeral. Don't worry about people who think it's strange; what's important to me is that my family will be there when my body is laid to rest. And remember: no wake. I hate those things.

Know that I love you and Dawn with everything that I am. I'm so sorry that the two of you have had to fight this battle with me. Take care of Dawn. She's going to need you.

All my love, forever,

Mom

P.S. The necklace is in the next drawer down.

Tears had fallen on the paper, smudging a few of the handwritten words. Buffy registered that her hands were shaking as she held the letter, but she hardly paid attention.

"What is it?" Spike asked, stepping next to her. She wordlessly handed him the note, attempting to shield her face from his view. Spike silently read the letter. With a defeated-sounding sigh, he lowered the note and wrapped his arms around Buffy, pulling her into his chest. Buffy allowed him to do so with no resistance. Her will crumbled, and again she sobbed in his arms.


Plans for the funeral went smoothly; a few people had questioned the time of the burial, but none had done so in earnest, and Buffy didn't care enough about their opinion to set them straight. Many people came to bid Joyce farewell, and all who spoke to Buffy mentioned what a joyous and life-filled person she had been. Buffy appreciated their sentiments, but it did little to dull the ache she had felt since her mother had passed away.

When the visitors had all left, Buffy sighed in relief and turned to Spike.

"I think I could use some patrol. You in?" Spike eagerly nodded.

"Dawn, you could stay with us for tonight if you'd like," Tara offered. Dawn nodded her head, and embraced her older sister. Buffy kissed Dawn's brow.

"Have some fun, okay?" Dawn nodded in an attempt to placate her sister, though both knew 'fun' wasn't on the agenda. Willow and Tara both told Buffy to call if she needed anything, which Buffy was grateful for. She and Spike turned and walked away, heading for a nearby recently-filled grave.

They were silent as they strolled through the cemetery. At least I was already here—wasn't a very far walk, Buffy thought morbidly. She was slightly calmed by the prospect of patrol. This, she had control over. She could do some good here.

"So, uh… how you holding up?" Spike asked, with the air of someone trying to make conversation to fill an uncomfortable silence.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm… kind of in shock, actually," she admitted. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I honestly didn't think I would out-live my mom."

No sooner had Spike opened his mouth to respond then a scream pierced the air. Spike and Buffy both took off running after the sound, Buffy far outstripping Spike in her gait. Spike couldn't help but admire her speed.

By the time Spike got to the scene, Buffy had already pulled a vampire off a young girl of about sixteen, who was now cowering against a headstone with an unconscious boy of about the same age. Buffy, meanwhile, was giving the vamp a solid ass-kicking. Though he was eager to join in, Spike stayed back and watched her work. She was most beautiful when she fought, as he knew from experience.

The vamp seemed not to know what the hell was going on, such was the Slayer's speed and strength. When she backed off slightly, the vamp looked at her and noticed her face.

"What the hell, man?" the vamp asked, in a whiny voice. "I would have shared." Buffy uttered a low growl. The young vampire looked at Spike.

"What the hell's wrong with your chick, man? I'm starving!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Kill him already, love, would you? He's starting to get on my nerves."

"This is ridiculous!" the vamp whined. Buffy drew a stake from her belt and threw it with perfect accuracy at the vamp's chest. His eyes widened before he turned to dust. Buffy rounded on the teenage girl and her boyfriend, who was just starting to come around.

"What the hell are you doing in a cemetery at night?" Buffy demanded. As she came closer to them, she reverted to her human visage. "Do you have any brains at all?" Spike smirked slightly. She has zero tolerance for stupidity when she's under a lot of stress.

"W-we were just t-taking a walk," the girl stuttered. Her boyfriend groaned and sat up, looking slightly bewildered.

"Take your boyfriend and get out of here," Buffy said. "And if I see you in a cemetery this late again, I'm going to let the next one eat you."

The teenagers scrambled up off the grass, hurriedly jogging away. Buffy shook her head in annoyance. "Teenagers." Spike chuckled.

The pair continued their patrol, silently scanning the cemetery for any sign of demons. Spike noticed they were in a very familiar part of the cemetery.

"I'm feeling a bit peckish, love. Would you mind swingin' by my crypt?"

"Sure," Buffy shrugged. They strode more intently in the direction of Spike's crypt. Spike held the door to the crypt open for her, smirking at the brief look of amused annoyance she shot him. They entered the crypt. Buffy took a look around as Spike lit up the room. He really had managed to fix the place up; it could almost pass for an apartment. Buffy recalled the "Buffy shrine" in the basement. Maybe that part could go, she thought wryly.

Spike retrieved some blood from the refrigerator and poured it into mugs, putting it in the microwave to warm up. He notice Buffy observing the crypt and his chest puffed up with pride slightly. He had worked hard to clean up this dump. To impress her.

"You should check out the basement a little better, love, it's quite posh," he said, interrupting her thoughts. He noticed the look on her face and smiled, a little self-consciously. "I took down all of the pictures. Thought they made you a tad uncomfortable."

"Did you give back my sweater and my underwear?" she muttered under her breath. He smirked. The microwave dinged and Spike pulled out their blood, handing a mug to Buffy. They drank in silence for a moment. Spike curled his lip slightly at the taste; once you had tasted human blood, animal blood just couldn't compare, especially microwaved animal blood.

"I should take you into the woods to hunt," he said suddenly, an idea striking him. Buffy looked slightly startled.

"Seriously, pet. It's fun."

"Stalking and killing defenseless animals is fun?" she asked skeptically. But when she thought about it, it sounded… interesting, at least. Her demon wanted to hunt.

"Give it a go. C'mon."

Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed before setting her mug down and standing up. "Okay, fine."

Spike grinned. He practically dropped his mug down on the table in his haste to grab his duster. He pulled it on and practically pushed Buffy out the door. Buffy couldn't help but chuckle.


"Okay, Pet. Take a sniff. What do you smell?"

Buffy paused, daintily sniffing the air. Her nose crinkled in disgust.

"McDonald's. The nearest one is like a mile away. I'm pretty sure real food isn't that potent."

Spike chuckled. "Okay, yeah. Anything else?"

Buffy closed her eyes and smelled the air again. Her head turned northwest, catching a sweet scent. "I smell something, I'm just not sure what it is."

"Wolf."

Buffy opened her eyes and glanced at Spike warily. "Wolf?"

"Wolves, to be exact. I think I can smell about three of them."

This did nothing to assuage Buffy. Spike caught the look on her face and laughed.

"Listen, Slayer, I'm pretty certain you can handle a couple of wolves." He couldn't help the adoration that, once again, crept into his voice every time the subject of her physical prowess came up. "Come on. Let's go after them."

Spike took off in a sprint, Buffy trailing after him. It had been a while since he had actually hunted an animal—obviously, humans were his preferred meal of choice, and it was rare for a vampire to bother hunting wild game. But he had a feeling Buffy would enjoy it, and it would take her mind off her mum. Not to mention the taste was better than that bagged crap.

They neared the small wolf pack and slowed, quieting their movements. They would have been able to sneak up on the wolves, had a gust of wind not brought their strange scent toward the canines. One of the wolves looked up and growled, immediately sensing the danger. The others stood and faced the vampires, growling. Without hesitation, the first wolf lunged at Buffy, attempting to knock her down. She vamped out and took a giant swipe at the wolf, knocking it to the side with a crunching sound. Spike worked on dispatching the other two wolves, who seemed to be much younger and less experienced than the one currently engaged in battle with Buffy. The wolf immediately got up and lunged again, this time managing to scratch Buffy before she grabbed its neck and twisted, killing it swiftly. Spike quickly broke the necks of the adolescent wolves. He turned to see Buffy delicately drinking from the alpha wolf. Her eyes met his, hazel but tinged with gold. She took another long draught from the wolf before standing and reverting back to her human face, panting and wiping the blood off her lips.

"Well, that was… exhilarating," she said, still catching her breath.

"Yeah," Spike agreed softly, moving towards her. Buffy caught the look in his eye.

"Spike—"

"You're so bloody beautiful," he murmured, now close enough to touch her. He reached out and cupped her cheek, before moving his hand to grasp the back of her head and pull her closer, tugging her against his chest. He heard her gasp and practically purred in satisfaction. He tilted her head up, using his other hand to pull her body flush against his (earning him another delightful sound) before kissing her, softly at first before he became more insistent. His hand traveled down from her waist to her ass, cupping it and squeezing gently, causing Buffy to moan into his mouth. He ground his pelvis into hers, making sure she understood exactly what she did to him. His kiss was almost brutal now, and judging by the noises Buffy was making, she didn't mind much. He pulled his lips away from hers, ignoring her protest, and brushed kisses down her jaw, to her neck, to her collarbone. His hands continued gently kneading her ass. His lips reached the top of her blouse, and Spike's kisses turned to gentle nips at her barely-exposed breasts. Buffy shivered as Spike's hands slowly lifted the bottom of her blouse.

"Spike…" she said hesitantly. Spike ceased his ministrations and looked at her, taking in her anxious expression. He sighed, removing his hands from her blouse and resting them on her hips instead. He tried to mask his frustration as she rejected him. Again.

"What is it going to take to convince you how much I love you, Slayer?" he whispered. Buffy noticed the agony in his voice, and was surprised by how much it hurt her to hear it. She was aware that she no longer despised him, but this was becoming something too close to caring for him. The thought scared her.

"I know you do, Spike," she said softly. And she did. He had proved it, over and over. And she had been wrong to have thought that vampires were incapable of love. The problem was not with him, but with her.

"I'm just not sure I can love anyone else," she confessed. Spike scoffed.

"Bullshit. You're afraid of loving someone else," he said angrily. He closed his eyes and took a breath, realizing that getting pissed off was not going to help anything. It wasn't her fault all her previous men had been assholes. He opened his eyes and attempted to control himself.

"I'm sorry, love." She still looked angry, but at least she hadn't punched him. "I can be patient," he added. "I'll wait as long as you like. Just, please, think about giving me a chance, pet."

Buffy looked at him and saw his sincerity. "Just give me some time to think, Spike. Please." She looked at him. "And maybe a little space," she said pointedly, glancing at the complete lack of space between them. Spike smirked slightly and took a step back, allowing Buffy to adjust her blouse.

"Alright, pet. Time and space. I think I can do that," he said quietly. He was disappointed, but at least she was willing to consider it and hadn't immediately shot him down. "C'mon, we should get back home. I don't think we're going to find any other spooks out tonight." Buffy followed him home in silence, contemplating the dilemma Spike presented her with.