The three men stood in silence for a moment. Picard seemed to be completely caught off guard. Riker's first officer, Worf, kept his intimidating glare on Benjamin. Riker, for his part, at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Embarrassed, Benjamin thought, That bastard ought to be ashamed. His choice cost the lives of thirty good men and women!

Picard spoke first, "Why don't we all calm down. Captain Benjamin, you've clearly been through an incredible ordeal," Picard put his hand on the young captain's shoulder, "Why don't you go down to Sickbay and have the Doctor give you something to help relieve some tension."

Perfect, Benjamin thought, Of course the famed Jean-Luc Picard is going to defend his former first officer. He brushed Picard's hand away. "I don't want to go see the Doctor," he growled, "I want Riker arrested!" Benjamin realized a little too late that he must have sounded like a petulant child.

Picard straightened, seeming to grow by meters. He glared down at the shorter man with all of the authority due to a man of his rank and experience. "Captain Benjamin, you are a member of Starfleet addressing a superior officer."

Benjamin snapped to attention, inwardly groaning at how his temper had just cost him credibility, again.

"Yes sir."

Picard returned to his chair, tugging at his uniform jacket as he did. "Now, I am currently hearing Captain Riker's report. As soon as I am finished, I will need the same from you. As you seem to be up and around, I expect you and your first officer to be in uniform and in this conference room at sixteen hundred hours, sharp."

"Yes sir," Benjamin said, still staring straight ahead.

"Dismissed," Picard barked.

Benjamin turned on his heel and strode from the room, silently cursing himself the whole way.

Picard looked to Riker, silently questioning him with the look on his face. Riker huffed, but before he could move back to his chair, his badge beeped.

"Doctor to Captain Riker."

Riker touched his badge, "Riker here."

"Captain, our unique patient is requesting his personal effects. He's getting insistent sir."

"Alright Doctor, Parsons should be done scanning everything. Tell him to bring it all to Sickbay."

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Captain."

The channel closed. Apparently the Doctor was having quite a time with the not-so-dead man.

"Unique patient?" Picard asked.

"Yes sir," Worf said, speaking for the first time since they had entered the room. "Do you remember when we found that earth vessel with the cryogenically frozen humans inside it?"

Picard thought for a moment, then nodded that he did. Worf filled him in on the vessel they had found with the frozen vampire inside.

"Vampire?" Picard looked incredulous.

Riker shrugged, "I know it sounds strange, sir."

"We're in Starfleet, Will," Picard smiled, "Strange is part of the job. Still, I think I should meet this man."

Spike had dressed, wearing his black jeans, black t-shirt, his long sleeve, red button up, and most importantly, his black, leather trench coat. He grabbed the lapels and straightened it a half dozen times. It wasn't uncomfortable, but a small part of him seemed to be aware of his time in space, and so he felt like he should have to get used to clothes again. Despite that feeling, the weight of his coat was still familiar and comforting.

The Doctor stood next to him, looking over the odd assortment of items in the trunk sitting open on the bed. The trunk mostly had books in it along with a few other items. The thing that caught Spike's attention was a bastard sword lying cross ways on top of everything else. It had a simple, straight cross guard and leather wrapped grip. The Doctor noticed a note wrapped around the hilt and reached for it.

"What's this," he asked, unfolding the paper.

Spike shrugged, "Don't know. I don't recognize most of this crap. What the bloody hell would I want from a bunch of musty old books?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "I figured you would at least want the sword."

"Not really me," Spike answered, lifting the sword and examining it, "I've always preferred a good old fashioned fist to flesh tussle. Nothing like a spot of violence before bed time."

"Some one else seems to think so too," The Doctor said, "I don't the sword is for you."

He handed the paper to Spike. It had a short poem written in neat, tiny script.

You must have this sword

If you hope to win

Give it to the one

Who is more than man

"'More than a man'," Spike quoted, "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Not sure," the Doctor said, squinting at the poem.

At that moment, the door slid open and three men walked in. Spike recognized two of them as the captain and his demon first officer. The third man was older and bald. He wore a more ornate uniform and walked with the bearing of a man used to wearing the authority of rank. Spike could see by the way that the other two fell in step behind him that they were used to taking orders from this man.

Spike crumpled the note and dropped it into his pocket. The older man walked up to Spike, studying him with a critical eye, as though trying to see what kind of man he was. Spike got the impression that this man was going to test him and that Spike needed to pass his tests.

"You are Spike?" The man asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Spike answered

The man held out his hand, "I am Admiral Jean-Luc Picard of the United Federation of Planets."

Spike looked at the hand. Deciding that this was one of the tests he had sensed was coming, he shook the man's hand. Picard gave a genuine smile, and Spike got the impression that it was a rare thing indeed.

"Guess I was wrong 'bout you, Mate," Spike said, releasing Picard's hand and looking to Riker, "Looks like you're not exactly king of the hill, are you?"

Riker smiled, "No, not when he's on board."

Spike hadn't expected to get quite such an amiable response. The three men moved around the bed to look at the contents of the trunk.

"What are all of these books?" Picard asked.

"You have a sword," Worf stated, admiring the blade.

"What's with the crystals?" Riker wondered.

"Hey, hey!" Spike said, holding up his hands, "One question at a time, blokes."

The Doctor stepped in, "Can you explain these items, Spike?"

"I don't know. Most of it looks like stuff that Willow had, magick doodads and the like. Hang on," Spike reached into the trunk and pull out a clear plastic case with a disc inside. The neat handwriting in black ink declared simply, 'For Spike'. A blond lock of hair tied with a small ribbon sat crushed in the between the case and the disc.

The four other men stared at the disc, but it was the Doctor who finally spoke.

"What is it, Spike?"

"I think it's a DVD," Spike answered, still staring at the letters spelling his name. The way the bottom of the 'S' in his name looped back on itself. The 'K' made up of a line and a sideways 'V' that didn't quite touch. It was her handwriting. She had written his name on this disc. Which meant the hair was hers

Spike opened the case and lifted the disc to his nose, drawing in the scent. It was faint, but it was definitely there, tickling right on the edges of his awareness. The simple ecstasy of that sensation brought unfulfilled need blossoming to the surface for the first time since he had awoken. Nothing else mattered, nothing else even existed. The faint traces of her had pushed every other sense out of his mind as unimportant. He touched the hair that was still impossibly soft. The need burned even stronger within him. The bitter sweet pain ran throughout his entire body, threatening to force his dead heart from his chest. Tears sprang to his eyes unbidden, trickling down his cheeks.

A hand on his shoulder brought the world back in a blinding rush. Suddenly realizing that the others were staring at him, he closed the case with a snap. He looked around at the expressions on the faces of the other men. Picard seemed interested, Riker seemed suspicious, the Doctor seemed concerned, and Worf seemed…very Worf like. Spike wiped his eyes as discreetly as possible, which wasn't very.

"I don't suppose you blokes have a DVD player somewhere private where I could watch this."

Riker's brow furrowed, "I think we all should see what's on that DVD."

Spike's eyebrows went up, "Yeah, well I think you should sod off!"

Worf put a finger to Spike's chest, "You are addressing the captain of this ship."

Spike knocked his hand away, "Oh, I'm sorry. Sod off, Sir! I don't care if he's the bloody king of Siam, this is personal property."

Riker stood straighter, "As captain of this ship I have the duty confiscate anything I deem dangerous or necessary-"

"Now Captain," the Doctor implored.

"ENOUGH!" Picard hadn't actually yelled, but the clear ring of authority in his voice brought quiet to the room. Even Spike felt compelled to obey when this man commanded it. Everyone turned eyes to Picard, waiting for his next command.

"Number One, if a member of your crew were to watch the video and assure you that it has no bearing on the safety of your ship or the federation, will you allow him to view it privately?"

Riker nodded, "Yes sir."

"Doctor, you can selectively delete your memory files, correct?"

"Yes sir," the Doctor said, "It'll take some work, but I can do it."

"Mr. Spike, with that knowledge, would you permit the Doctor to view this video with you?"

Spike thought it over for a moment. The only person who had been totally honest with him and had not jumped to conclusions about him (at least not any incorrect ones) was the holographic doctor. If he really could delete his memory of watching the video, it would still be Spike's alone.

Finally, Spike nodded, "Yeah, alright. But no one else."

The Doctor stood next to Spike, who sat at the Doctors desk watching the monitor. It had only taken Lieutenant Commander Parsons, the Chief Engineer, a few minutes to program the computer to read the ancient data storage disc. He had instructed Spike on how to play the video, but his finger had hovered above the button for a full ten minutes after Parsons had walked out.

Growing more concerned, the Doctor finally asked, "Is there something wrong?"

Spike's hand moved away from the button and rested on the desk. He sat unmoving for another minute before answering, "This just feels like, I don't, a last message or something. Like one last goodbye. If I play it, it'll be like admitting that it's over, that she's really gone. I don't know if I could do that."

The Doctor placed a hand on the other's shoulder, leaning over to be closer, "Spike, your going to have to see it sometime. Whoever she was, it's obvious that you love her very much. You need that closure. Besides, she obviously cared enough to make this for you. Clearly she meant for it to help you with the difficult transition you're about to go through. Do you really want the effort she put into this to be for nothing."

Exhaling, Spike moved his hand and touched the control. The screen flickered to life and a large white arrow appeared against a blue background. The arrow disappeared and screen changed to the face of a young blond man. He sat in a chair and smiled uncertainly.

"Um, hi Spike. It's Andrew, but I guess you knew that. Willow told us what you did, or what you will do, or something. So, anyway, I thought I'd record this for you, so that everyone can say their goodbyes. I don't know if they'll even have DVD players when you wake up. I hope so."

The young man, Andrew, reached for the screen and the image shook. The screen went black for an instant and then two people were on screen. One was a dark haired man with a patch over one eye. The other was slightly younger woman with straight brown hair. They were holding hands. Spike's jaw dropped.

"That bloody wanker!" he exclaimed, "How did those two end up together? How has she not killed him yet?"

The Doctor wanted to ask who they were, but decided that he should probably allow this moment to be as private as possible.

"Hey Spike," the woman said, "It's Dawn and Xander. Willow told us all about how you're gonna help save the world again. We just wanted to thank you. Thank you Spike, for everything. You were a real friend to me and my sister when we really needed one. I know it went against your nature. I want you to know that I'll always remember you for that."

"Look Spike," the man said, speaking for the first time, "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye. By that I mean 'I hate your guts'."

"Xander!" the woman chided.

"Hey, it's the truth. But what I was going say is that I may not like you Spike, but you went against your nature, against being a soulless monster, and became a better man, and I can really respect that. Good luck, Spike."

"At least he's not a total loss," Spike mumbled.

"Oh, and about this," Xander said, raising the hand holding Dawn's, "Not that it's any of your business, but Dawn thinks you have a right to know. We've been together for a little while now and frankly, we're happy."

"I hope you get to find happiness one day." Dawn said, smiling, "I really think you've earned it."

The screen now showed two young women, one with red hair and the other a brunette.

"Hi Spike," the redhead said, smiling and waving enthusiastically, "It's me, Willow. And you remember Kennedy?" She indicated the girl next to her, who just smiled. "Hey I know that I was there for the ritual, but there wasn't really time to say goodbye. I'll miss you, Spike. Good luck."

"And thank you Spike, for everything," Kennedy said.

The scene changed again and a woman in her late twenties appeared. She was quite attractive, with blond hair and bright eyes. Spike's demeanor had completely changed. Where before he was relaxed and moved like a predator, now he sat taught as piano wire. It looked as though someone had stuck an electrode in his back and left it there.

The young woman motioned to someone behind the screen, "Go ahead and leave it there, Andrew."

"You sure, Buffy?" Andrews voice cam from off screen, "I could frame you better."

Buffy smiled indulgently, "I'm sure, Andrew. Please just leave it there."

"Okay, just press this button when you're done and-"

"I know how to work a camera," she interrupted, "Now please just go."

Andrew's footsteps faded away followed by the sound of a closing door. Buffy sat crossed legged on a bed leaning over a pillow on her lap in what must have her room. She stared at her hands, playing with a ring on one of her fingers.

"Hi Spike," She said, still not looking up, "I wanted to say that I miss you and wish you luck."

She looked at the camera and seemed unable to find any more words. Her eyes began to water and she looked up, away from the camera.

"So stupid," she said, trying to blink away the tears.

She stared away from the camera, breathing hard. Even through the screen, the Doctor could see the tears streaming down her face. She drew in a shaking breath, and then began to cry in earnest. Burying her face in her pillow, her racking sobs were muffled, but even the Doctor could clearly hear them. He glanced at Spike to see tears streaming down his face. The vampire made no attempt to wipe them away.

"Oh God! Spike I miss you so much." She screamed into the pillow.

Spike moved suddenly, startling the Doctor. He put his hands to the screen, trying desperately to touch her through it.

"I know, baby," He said through his own tears, "I'm here. I'm here."

Buffy finally seemed to regain her composure. The Doctor put a hand to Spike's shoulder to pull him back into the chair. Spike sat back without resisting. Buffy was wiping the tears away.

"I'm sorry," She said, "I do miss you, Spike. I know you know that I don't love you in they way that you want, but I do love you. With all my heart, I love you and want you back. You got your soul back, for me. Willow said you had to go fulfill some prophecy thing in the future. And I love you even more for being willing to do that. I never really had the chance to say goodbye though. I just hope that, that you don't forget me. Don't get me wrong, I want you to find love, real, warm-and-fuzzy-googly-eyed love. But I also want you to look back on us with fond memories. I know it wasn't all great, but I thought some of it was, especially that snuggly last part. If I could spend every night wrapped in your arms, I would. I've never felt so safe, not even in Angel's arms. Please Spike, when you look back on us, remember that."

"Always, Pet," Spike said breathlessly, "Always."

"I love you, Spike."

"I love you, Buffy," Spike said, pressing his lips against the screen. While Spike's eyes were still closed, Buffy got up and reached off screen. The scene changed and suddenly Andrew's face was taking the whole frame.

"There you have it Spike," Andrew said.

Spike jumped back with a cry of indignation.

"We all love and miss you," Andrew continued, "I hope you find whatever it is you're supposed to do. I don't agree with Willow that denying our present a bad ass vampire for the sake of the future is a good idea, but I'm not the uber-powerful witch. So, anyway, good luck Spike."

The screen went black.

Spike flopped back into the chair and breathed deep, exhaling with a huff. He looked up to the Doctor. "There you have it, mate. Nothing of any importance to anyone but me. You gonna tell your almighty captain as much?"

"Of course," The Doctor answered. He walked over to another control panel on the opposite wall of his office and began accessing his memory banks.

"What're you doing?" Spike asked him from across the room.

"Accessing my memory banks to erase my memory of watching the video with you," he answered.

"You don't have to," the vampire said, "I'd like it if someone, ya know, remembered this."

The Doctor realized that what Spike needed, more than anything else, was a friend. He was asking for just that.

"Spike, it would be an honor."

Spike smiled, "Thanks Doc."