This story takes place immediately after the season 6 premiere of Buffy, “Bargaining, Parts 1 & 2”. It does NOT fit in the same continuity as the Spike & Cerberus or Watchdog series…

“What the HELL are you doing out here?!?” Was Xander’s version of a greeting. Anya’s was gentler. A little. “Where’s Spike?! Why isn’t he watching you?!?” She turned to her secret fiancé. “See, I told you we needed to pay him if we expected him to keep a good eye on her!”

Willow ignored them all, all save Buffy, whom she approached slowly. “Buffy? Are you ok? Do you remember anything?”

Buffy eyed the redhead warily through her unruly mane. As she watched the girl approach, it seemed she was seeing other images of her, hearing her say other things. Watching as she laughed and smiled and cried, as she cast powerful magicks and typed away madly at a keyboard. And when the girl put her hand on her shoulder, the touch was like a static shock, jogging something that was loose in her mind into place. She’d felt that hand before, heard that voice, seen that smile.

“Wi… Willow?”

Willow gathered her friend in a fierce hug. She felt her weariness, from the spellwork, from the heartache when she thought she’d lost Buffy AGAIN, hit her like a Hellfire biker’s pipe. She sank to her knees, and Buffy and Dawn fell with her. Tara and Xander and Anya weren’t far behind.

When Buffy was able to breathe again, she whispered, “I want to go home.”

Spike had been walking for hours, but hadn’t even noticed. To him, time raced by like the heart that was falsely beating with worry in his chest. The acrid smoke clouded his senses, making his eyes and nose and throat burn (or so he told himself). Still he walked on. And prayed he wouldn’t fid his lil’ bit lying in the rubble.

What had gotten in to her? Was it the sight of the Buffybot’s parts lying about, after it had been drawn and quartered by the Hellfire gang? It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen it in pieces before, but he had to admit the sight of it had sickened him too. It was foolish, he knew, but a part of him felt like this made Buffy MORE dead somehow. He had caught himself pretending, for a moment here and there, that the ‘Bot was really her. He fought hard against doing it, and had even had Willow reprogram the thing so that its “undying love” for him was gone— except THAT hadn’t apparently WORKED. It’s adoration for him made the memory of why he’d had it made in the first place all that much harder to bear. It brought back the shame he’d felt when Buffy had confronted him about it, the gratitude he’d felt at the same time when she’d thanked him, the bliss he’d felt in the tiny kiss she’d gifted him with. It all roiled inside him, like a storm always on the verge of breaking. And the things he fought hardest to forget, the memory of her request for him to protect Dawn, his promise to her, and the fact that he’d FAILED, which had ultimately led to her demise, THAT was the lighting in that storm, sudden and sharp and searing, and it struck whenever he looked at the ‘Bot, or at Dawn… Well, he didn’t need to worry about one of those reminders. He prayed again that he WOULD still have the other.

And the storm was *this close* to breaking again, as it had when he saw Buffy’s corpse after his failure. He couldn’t get the image of his broken ‘Bot or his broken Buffy out of his mind, the two juxtaposed in a morbid monument to her loss.

No. Not HIS Buffy. She had never been his, nor WOULD she now.

He told himself the tearing of his eyes was just from the smoke as he pressed onward.

How could the nibblet have gotten so far? And what had happened to the bikers? He hadn’t seen a sigh of ANYone in HOURS. It HAD to have been hours—the sun was almost up.

Maybe she had gone back home? He was closer to his crypt, but after spying a blanket on a couch through a broken window, he decided he could make it back to the Summers place. He turned and made his way back, hurried along by both the sun and a greater fear—for Dawn.

Back at the Summers house, the Scooby gang filled in Buffy in on the events of the past for months (over a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows, of course), how they had rigged up the Buffybot to give the illusion that she was still alive, how Willow and Tara had moved in with Dawn, how they had continued to fight the good fight, even though it took all of them, including Spike (actually, truth be told, especially), to do the work of one Slayer. And how Giles had finally moved on.

When the conversation had winded down, they all looked anxiously at Buffy for some sort of response. After several long, tense moments, she gave them their wish.

“I was really dead.”

The Scoobies shared an uncomfortable glance. They knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but it hadn’t really sunk in how HARD it was going to be—especially for Buffy.

It was Willow who found the courage to speak. “Um.. yeah, you were, Buffy. But we brought you back-“

“WHY?” Her face had ben cold as they told her their tale. Now they realisd the coldness was actually white-hot fury.

“…what?”

“WHY did you do this to me? ME! After all you said about not bringing back my mom! I’m the SLAYER, dammit! I’m SUPPOSED to die in the line of duty! Did it EVER occur to you that I might not WANT to come back?!? DEATH IS MY GIFT! MINE! How DARE you take that away from me?!?”

Willow stared at Buffy, the tears falling from her eyes a mix of joy tainted with hurt and even a touch of fear. “Buffy… we NEED you… the WORLD needs-“

“Get out.”

“Wh-“

“I said get out!!! GET OUT!!! ALL of you, I don’t want to look at you, just GO! Get out of my house!!!”

Dawn looked on in horror. “No! Buffy, stop, they helped you-“

Buffy hurled her cup of cocoa at the wall, narrowly missing Willow’s head. She stared at her best friend in disbelief, but didn’t protest when Tara led her out, with Xander and Anya close behind.

“It’ll be ok,” Tara whispered. “She’s had a rough night. Give her time.”

And I haven’t, Willow wanted to scream. I faced Osiris himself to bring her back… But she kept silent, not wanting to vent her anger at her lover.

When they heard the front door shut, Buffy whirled on her sister.

“Dawnie, please…” she whispered, her voice desperate. “Please tell me you didn’t help them do this to me…”

Dawn opened her mouth, but at first nothing would come out. Then it was like a dam had broken inside her, and the contents of four months worth of emotions bottled up inside her burst forth.

“You SELFISH BITCH! You ABANDONED us, sisn’t you? You HYPOCRIT! You told ME to LIVE, and for what? Because you were too scared to live yourself? I was the key, it was MY job to die that night! You’re the SLAYER—it’s your job to PROTECT people! And what’s happened the last four months? Your friends have been out there doing YOUR JOB, while you take it easy in a nice cushy coffin!”

Buffy’s eyes widened, and it seemed to Dawn the pain inside them was about to pour out. Part of her wanted to hold her sister and tell her she was sorry, she didn’t mean it, that things would be all right. But her mother had taught her not to lie, and she chose this moment to do as she’d been told. Buffy needed to hear all this so she would wake up; she was alive, whether she liked it or not.

“And to answer your question, no, I didn’t help them—but only because they didn’t TELL me they were doing it. I wonder if they are REGRETTING it right now? Well, like it or not, you’re here now, Buffy. You’re ALIVE again. You better decide how your going to live your life—with, or without the people who love and care about you?”

Buffy let out a sob, and reached for Dawn. As much as it hurt her, Dawn turned away, and headed up to her room. She could hear her sister’s wretching sobs from below, but only until she drowned them out with her own.

Spike reached the Summers house just as the sun began to peek over the trees. He didn’t take the time to notice the damages to the neighborhood, but if he had, he would’ve seen that no one got out unscathed. He would have seen the families that had finally ventured forth from their homes with the sunlight, to assess said damage. But not the Summers family.

He pounded on the door, crying “Nibblet! Nibblet, it’s the Big Bad, c’mon an’ open up b’fore I get too toasty! Platelet??” He noticed then that a window had been broken. He broke it the rest of the way and slipped inside.

His first thought was to check the basement—that had been her own suggestion when the rioting had begun. He was stopped short in the kitchen though, by a sight that took his breath away.

Buffy?

No, it had to be the ‘Bot. But how did it get in the kitchen? How had Willow fixed it? And so quickly? Well, there was only one way to find out.

“Bot? BOT? Are you activated?”

It looked up at him, looking confused. “Spike?” It croaked at him.

“Where are the others? Did Dawn come back?”

“Dawn’s upstairs. I sent the others away. And frankly, I don’t want YOU here just now either…”

He breathed a sigh of relief, then raised an eyebrow. “Well, I see Will finally fixed your programming like I asked! Although she did take it a bit far. Not having you adore me is one thing, but if she’s made you as abusive as Buffy, her and I are going to have words…”

It scowled at him. “Made? What are you saying, that this isn’t even my BODY? What, did she make me a new one from scratch?!? This just gets worse and worse…”

Spike blinked. “… A NEW ‘bot… Well, that would explain how she got you fixed so fast, if you’re not really you at all… And I daresay you’re a sight better than the last one…”

“HEY! I don’t quite understand what you just said, but I think I was just insulted! And if you helped them bring me back, I have a bone to pick with you too, mister, so I’d skedaddle if I were you… Unless you want me to go look for Mr. Pointy?”

He grinned. “I think Will’s got some of your wires crossed… but no, I didn’t know a thing abou’ you.”

She shook her head with a half-grin. “I woulda thought you would be happier to see me. Could it be you got over your stupid infatuation when I died? But then why-“

Fast as lighting he was over to her side of the table, grabbing her wrist and yanking her to her feet. “Now you listen here, y’ BINT,” he growled, vamping out, “don’t you EVER call my feelings for Buffy stupid agai-“

And he realised what he’d failed to notice. He could SMELL her. And now that he was touching her, he could sense her blood moving beneath the skin. He let go of her like her wrist was the cross he’d grabbed earlier, and stepped back.

For her part, Buffy chided herself on her sluggish reflexes. Well, maybe being dead for a while did that to you. She was about to lay into the vamp for manhandling her, and for generally being creepy with his strange talk, when she saw his eyes.

He was shocked. He was looking at her like he’d never seen her before. He also looked like he was about to cry, like Dawn and the others had looked when they realised she was alive, was really HERSELF, and not the Buffybot…

The ‘Bot. He’d thought she was the BOT! She almost sighed; it didn’t speak well of her if everyone kept confusing her for it… And then she almost laughed, he looked so comical and puppy-like, staring at her like that. Her big fluffy toothless puppy. The Big Bad vampire that had given up his “evil ways” for love of a Slayer. No matter how disgusted she might have been with him, how much she had HATED him once, she couldn’t deny the changes he’d gone through, or all he had done a lot for her, and for Dawn. The memory of him standing at her staircase, admitting his love, that he knew she could never love him but loved her anyway, the promise he had made her, was still fresh in her mind. It was just yesterday for her. And even when she was gone, he’d kept his promise to her, had even extended it to her friends.

She gave him a smile. “It’s ME, Spike. Not a robot. It’s Buffy.”

And that’s when the vampire lost it. He fell to his knees and sobbed like the world had ended, crying “I’m sorry, I’m sooo sorry, I failed you, I killed you” over and over.

She surprised herself by kneeling next to him and embracing him, stoking his hair and murmuring soothingly to him. “It’s ok, Spike. I’m here, I’m alive, I’m BACK! You didn’t fail me, I asked too much of you, too much of EVERYone, I—“

And suddenly she was sobbing right alongside him, and he was holding right her back, comforting her, telling her he loved her, that he would do it right this time and never let anything hurt her again. He was kissing her hair and stroking it lovingly, cradling her cheek as he kissed her tears away. And she found herself cradling his own cheek, only kissing his lips instead, softly at first, then harder, as if he were the fount of life and she would see to it that she would never die again. He gladly obliged her.

To both their surprise, it was Spike that broke it off. He was actually gasping, even though he didn’t need to breathe. His eyes were filled with horror, as if he had drunkenly raped her and had just been turned sober with a bucket of cold water. “I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” He let go of her and stood.

She stood quickly, embarrassed, then dizzy. He grabbed her by the shoulders, eyes filled with concern. It amazed her still, to see him look at her that way. She never would have thought, when she had first met him, that they would end up like this. But like WHAT? She had thought of him as an enemy for so long, but enemies didn’t stand by you at the end of the world, didn’t hold you and comfort you and protect your family after you died. She was so confused right now, and she was afraid that it was going to take a long time to sort it all out.

And thanks to her friends, she now HAD that time.

When he was sure she was ok, Spike suggested maybe he should leave.

“NO!” That came out way more desperate than she intended. “I mean… stay, please. I.. I don’t want to be alone right now…” Feeling very awkward, she made her way to the cabinet, saying “Let me fix you some cocoa” as she went.

Only the mugs weren’t where they had been before, and neither was the cocoa. She hadn’t noticed where Anya had gotten everything out from the night before.

Spike smiled ruefully. “Anya took I’ upon ‘erself to re-organize ever’thin’.” He set to fixing them both a cuppa.

While he did that, Buffy mustered her courage and called her friends, apologizing and asking them all to come back over when they could. To her relief, it didn’t take any of them long, and soon they were all crying in a huddle much as they had been the night before, Willow sobbing this time about how sorry she was she had brought Buffy back, well, not sorry that she was back, but sorry she didn’t get her permission first. Spike stood off to the side, not wanting to intrude, chiding himself for the ache he was feeling. He convinced himself that he wasn’t a Scooby because he didn’t WANT to be a Scooby. But while he might be evil, he was never a very good liar.

Buffy saw him over Tara’s head and Gestured for him to come join them. He stood there, undecided, when Dawn walked into the room, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Geez, people, get a room, whydontcha…” she muttered.

Then Spike grabbed her in a bear-hug. When he was finished nearly squeezing the life out of her, he laid into her. “What the HELL do you think you were doin’, runnin’ off like that?!?” His diatribe lasted for a full minute, helped along by Xander, who had forgotten he’d been yelling at her about that the night before.

Buffy leaned back against the counter, taking it all in as she stood arm-in-arm with Willow and Anya, Tara on Willow’s other side. She listened to her friend’s voices, felt their warmth about her, gazed lovingly at her dear sister, whose life they’d managed to save. Dawn had been right. She WAS alive—and she needed to start LIVING, with her friends at her side. There was only one thing missing.

There was a pounding at the door.

They all went to see who it was, Buffy in the lead but Spike and Willow protectively to each side of her. She opened the door, all prepared to face another Hellfire demon.

It was Giles.

“Thank heavens you’re all all right! My plane was stopped over in New York, and I came straight back when I heard about the rioting on the news-“

“GILES!” Buffy hugged him so hard she lifted him off his feet.

“Willow, what did you do to this thing? Don’t you think this kind of a greeting would raise a few eyebrows? Now please, call it off, before I suffocate!”

Buffy dropped him, staring at him incredulously.

He looked at her. “Good heavens, what have you done to it’s hair??”

Dawn laughed out loud, and even Xander had to fight hard to suppress a giggle.

“Uh, Giles…” Willow began, wringing her hands nervously. “Um, don’t be mad, but…”

“That’s the real Buffy!” Anya added helpfully (and impatiently). She turned to Xander. “Can we tell them about our engagement NOW?”

Tara gasped. “Omigoddess! You’re- !!” She pointed to them both. Then she let out a delighted squeal, and hugged them both, with Willow and Dawn joining in.

Buffy wanted to congratulate them, but decided Giles was more important at the moment. The man had an odd sort of glazed look in his eyes. Then he seemed to come to himself. “Ah! I know, I fell asleep on the plane, I’m dreaming! Yes, this is just a result of my paternal feelings for all of you. It started as a nightmare about you all being in danger, but the dream is telling me you’ll all be ok, you can take care of yourselves…” He smiled, pleased. After a few moments, the smile fell. “Well, now that I’ve identified this as a dream, I should be waking up now…”

Buffy smiled and hugged her mentor again, gently this time. “It’s not a dream, Giles. It really is me. I’m back!”

As he held her, Giles realised that no, it wasn’t a dream. And yes, this was a living, breathing Buffy he held, not a collection of metal and wire and synthetics. This time he picked HER off the floor.

When he set her down, he managed to pull together some semblance of his prim and proper self as he addressed the rest of the Scoobies.

“I should be yelling at you right now. No doubt you did something extremely dangerous and foolish to bring about this blessed event-“

“Hey! It’s not like we used whips and chains or anything—“ Anya protested.

The others looked at her in puzzlement, Spike with wry interest and amusement, until Xander cleared it up for them. “He’s talking about BUFFY, Anya, not the wedding…”

“…Oh.”

Giles smiled at his partner and her fiancé. “Your right, there is another reason to be happy today! Forgive me for forgetting myself! Congratulations to you both,” he said warmly. He shook Xander’s hand and hugged Anya.

Spike walked up to Xander and held out his hand. “Um, congrats, mate…”

Xander paused only a moment, looking like he was about to say something catty, but instead took the vamp’s hand and said “Thanks, man.”

Giles harrumphed. “Now as I was saying, I should be reading you the bloody riot act right now…” He gazed lovingly at Buffy, who was like a daughter to him. In truth, they were all like his children, with Buffy as his firstborn. Even Spike played the role of the rebellious son (you’d never get either party to admit it, tho), who’d pulled his act together for the sake of love and family. “…but it can wait till tomorrow. Right now you all have made me the happiest man on earth.”

Once again, the group hug ensued, this time, Buffy ruminated, with all the parts involved. Even Spike.

And so began the first day of the rest of her life.