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“Of course not. For a while. I mean…” Buffy stuttered nervously for a few moments and then, looking back towards Spike, she saw a slight smile quirking the corners of his lips. He was laughing at her. Some of the tension left her body and she returned the smile. “Sorry.”
Spike shook his head. “Don’t apologise. This must be strange for you. Believe me, it’s a thousand times worse at this end.”
Buffy nodded, acknowledging that she understood. “I’m not being very helpful am I?”
“You’re here to help me?”
“No,” Buffy answered resolutely, looking the man opposite her squarely in the eye. He looked surprised at her answer, but didn’t comment. After a moment she continued. “I’m here to make sure you’re real.”
“There’s a chance I’m not?”
She shrugged. “Most people thought you were dead.”
“But not you?”
“I didn’t know what to think. You’ve been gone a long time. Without a trace. Trust me.”
“You looked for me?” he asked, just catching Buffy’s mumbled words.
“Yes.”
“Because we were friends?”
Buffy looked away and answered quietly, “No.”
“Do I have to ask questions which can only be answered yes or no?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “It’s good to know some things never change. God, could you be more annoying?”
“I don’t know. Could I?”
“Yes,” Buffy sighed. “You can be a hell of a lot more annoying.”
Spike grinned. “Ok. So I’m annoying. What else do you know about me?” He frowned as Buffy hesitated. “What?”
“I don’t know if I should tell you.”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. Maybe you have to leave these things to sort themselves out. You should see a doctor before everyone starts telling you things.”
“Buffy…”
“I mean, it could do you serious psychological damage…”
“Buffy….”
“What?”
“Are you always this cute when you’re nervous, or is it just around me?”
****
“What’s going on?” Anya hissed as she and Willow stood behind the kitchen door, straining to hear what was happening outside.
“I don’t know An. I know as much as you do,” Willow said impatiently, nudging her friend slightly so that she had more room. This descended into a couple of minutes of pointless struggling until the sound of Buffy’s laughter made them freeze.
“She’s laughing,” Anya stated and Willow sighed.
“Thanks for pointing that out.”
Anya scowled. “There’s no need to get all sarcastic with me. What’s she laughing at?”
“For about the millionth time I’m not psychic.”
“Do some magic,” the former demon demanded after several more moments of silence.
“What?”
“Magnify their voices,” Anya stated simply, not noticing the look of horror and disbelief on Willow’s face. “Or make us invisible so we can go outside.”
“No! Anya that’s wrong. I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Anya exclaimed loudly, causing both of them to duck down behind the door in case they had been heard.
“Because it’s intrusive. And I don’t do stuff like that.” She continued as her friend opened her mouth to comment. “Anymore.”
“I want to know what they’re doing. This is so frustrating. Why can’t she be normal and tell us all her problems? I tell her all of mine.”
Willow stared at her. “You tell everyone yours.”
“I think it’s very unfair of her to make us behave like this.”
“She’s not making us crazy,” Willow protested. “We’re naturally crazy. We’re the queens of crazy. And don’t forget, this is all our fault. Of course she’s not going to talk to us about it.”
“Well this isn’t working is it?” Anya pursed her lips thoughtfully and stood, before walking back into the living room. Willow frowned, but followed her friend without comment.
“What?”
“How can we fix it if we don’t know what’s happening?”
“I’m not doing any magic,” the redhead stated, folding her arms across her chest protectively. Anya’s eyes drifted to the bottle of brandy on the table and then met Willow’s with understanding. “I know. But we’re going to have to think of something.”
****
The phone was ringing.
Faith pulled the bed covers up higher and burrowed underneath them, trying to drown out the incessant noise. The warm arm around her waist shook her slightly, but she ignored it. “’S your turn.”
“It bloody well isn’t,” came the muffled reply and Faith grimaced.
“Whatever,” she mumbled and curled up against the lean body behind her, not making any move to answer the phone. She smiled contentedly as she felt her lover reach out and grab the phone. He hated to think he was missing something.
“This better be important,” Wesley growled into the receiver as Faith rubbed her leg against his and began to slide her hand down his stomach to his…
“I need to speak to Faith,” a shrill voice called out, loud enough for the Slayer herself to hear. She reached up her hand and took the phone from Wesley.
“Andrew. Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“It’s half past eleven in the morning,” Andrew stated and Faith sighed.
“Fine. What’s up?”
“Spike’s back.”
The Slayer was instantly alert. She sat up and started to fumble at the side of the bed for her clothes. Wesley, realising something important was happening, began to get dressed too. Faith didn’t say another word, but he could just make out Andrew’s nervous chatter.
“…I called to ask her about the flowers for the wedding and she said he was back. I wanted to be with her but Willow was there and…”
“And she didn’t want Red to wonder why she wanted you there.”
“That’s my guess.”
“And they’re at Anya’s?”
“Yes. Should we go over?”
“I’ll go. You need to call…”
“On it. Line was engaged. I’ll try again in a few. They’re probably having s…”
“Andrew, that’s too gross for even me to contemplate. If you can’t reach her room try her cell, then try the building.”
“Yes. I know. I’m not completely incompetent.”
“And I’ll see you here tonight ok?”
“Ok.”
Faith hung up the phone and glanced at her boyfriend. “Spike’s back.” She watched for any sign that the news disturbed him, but his face remained impassive.
“Is Buffy ok?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out.”
****
“’lo?”
“Connor?”
“Mm-hm.”
“It’s Andrew.”
“Hm.”
“I need to speak to Dawn.”
“Sh’ n’ ‘ere.”
“It’s important.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look just have her ring me back when she wakes up. And Connor?”
“Yeah?”
“You’d be more believable if you stopped answering Dawn’s phone.”