"Angel?"

"No, it's Wesley, actually. Wesley Windham-Price."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Hey Wes, it's Buffy. Could you put him on? I don't have a lot of time here."

Buffy glanced at the clock on the wall and the doorway to the kitchen, expecting Spike to walk through it at any minute. She'd left him in bed, saying that she needed to shower and get ready before the rest of the house was awake. Yeah, right, like she'd leave him in bed so she could take a shower the morning after the last night of the world. Although there was some blood that had needed washing off. So she'd taken the fastest shower in the world so she could make this phone call.

"Uh, of course…just a…" Wes sputtered at the other end of the line. The next sound was Angel's gruff "hello".

"Angel," Buffy breathed in relief.

"Buffy, are you okay? Has something changed? Do you need me to…"

"No, no, everything's fine here. Well, not fine, obviously, that would be overstatement of the century what with an Apocalypse looming in the next 12 hours…" her voice trailed off. She was babbling, like always. It should have irritated Angel after what she had said to him in Sunnydale, but instead he just felt a welling up of tenderness for her, for the familiarity of her and her voice stammering away. He knew she didn't stammer around Spike, she didn't need to. At the thought of the peroxide dolt the tenderness vanished and he answered her,

"So what do you want then?"

Buffy sighed, so he was going to make it difficult on her then. She didn't blame him, she had given him plenty of cause.

"I wanted to make sure you understand."

"Understand? I understand that you chose him over me, that's what I understand."

Buffy was so used to him taking the high road, being the bigger man that his biting reply cut her to the quick.

"That's not fair," she gritted out, "It's not that simple and you know it."

"I know it, do I? What I know is that you've been fucking Spike around the clock for the past two years and didn't even have the decency to mention it to any of your friends."

"How dare you," she growled into the phone, checking behind her to glance at the kitchen doorway. By some miracle she was still alone.

"Buffy I just don't understand. This is my chance, I am the champion. You and I both know what I have to do for the Powers that Be to give me…" his voice trailed off and he was quieter now, "You chose him."

"I chose him to fight and probably die! Don't you understand I am trying to keep you, as well as the rest of humanity, safe?"

"No, you're trying to keep me out of your life."

"Angel, you are the one that left, not me. I'm still here, 1630 Revello Drive, feel free to stop by and visit anytime…for four fucking years. Excuse me that you want to come down here and steal my apocalypse so you can get your humanity back."

"I would think you would want my humanity back," he mumbled.

She sighed, "I did. I mean…I do. I used to. I mean…this is my life, and you chose not to be a part of it. And he has been. He's the one who helped me get the dirt out from under my fingernails when I dug myself out of my own grave. So excuse me for finding a replacement for you."

"So he's just a replacement then? A prop, some toy? I thought you were better than that Buffy."

"This is my apocalypse, and it's his. He's earned it. And he deserves it."

"You do love him."

"I…" she said in a steely voice, "I don't know what I feel. But he knows me in ways I never imagined were possible. He's shared things with me that I…Angel, I…"

"You'd rather have him be human beside you."

"It's not that simple!" She caught herself shouting and whirled around and froze to see Spike casually leaning in the doorway.

"Buffy, this is a choice you can't come back from. You are choosing that you would rather die with him than die with me."

"No, I would rather him die than you die," she corrected, looking deeply into Spike's eyes. His expression was inscrutable.

"You would die with him. You would die for him."

She didn't know why Angel was saying these things. Why this was the moment after all these years. Maybe he truly believed she would fail, that she would die for the third and final time with no one to resurrect her.

"Buffy?" Angel asked, his voice jolting her from her reverie.

"Yes," she whispered finally, "I would die for him."

If it was possible, Spike became even more still where he was leaning, watching her.

"Buffy, listen, I gotta go, things are crazy here."

"Of course they are. 'Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless'," Buffy mocked without malice.

Angel laughed, "I think you're the hopeless right now."

"Yeah, I guess I am," she smiled slightly.

"And Buffy," Angel said quickly, like he had to get this out or he never would, "I'm glad you called, even though…even if…I love you."

Her lips moved to form the 'I love you' in reply as she had said a thousand times but the words stuck in her throat.

"Goodbye, Angel," she breathed, and set the phone back in its cradle.

"So you heard…" she said, addressing the blonde vampire in her kitchen.

"Everything," he replied. She blushed and grimaced. She tried to remember everything that had been said but she hadn't been thinking, and nothing had come out as it should. If this was one of the last conversations she ever had, at least it had been brutally honest even if it had been far from eloquent.

"Are you ready to die today, Slayer?"

'Slayer'. He used the word deliberately, giving her a chance to back away, to wipe away the marks of last night, to erase how far they had come.

'Slayer'. She knew he said it on purpose; it had been so long since he'd used it that right now it couldn't have been anything but intentional. He half-wanted her to slam him down again, push him away from her for one last time. She heard the former taunt, but now it just sounded like an endearment on his lips, and she wondered if it had ever been anything but.

"I'm always ready to die. It's time for our dance, Spike."

Her voice hitched as she said those words that she had held back so many times last year.

He smiled as he realized she hadn't taken the bait, that she'd seen through him, that she'd finally opened her eyes and seen him at all.

"So," she said briskly, "Let's get ready for our apocalypse."