Bloody hell. He was such an idiot. Why hadn't he left right away?

Yet, hearing his name from her lips brought a rush of warmth flowing right into his cold dead heart and soul. It felt so bloody great that they could keep their sodding Heaven for all he cared, because he'd just had his share of happiness to last him an eternity.

He drew in a big, shaky breath and turned around, keeping his eyes lowered knowing that seeing her in front of him was going to be too much for him to handle.

The sound of her running feet came closer and then they were right there in front of him.

Two small Slayer feet connected to two slim Slayer legs. He gazed at them and couldn't help but smile. She was wearing black high heeled boots. Perfect battle attire for his girl. The image of the boots got a bit blurry and he sniffed a bit.

He swallowed and raised his head with a goofy, watery grin still plastered on his face. Her expression wiped it off immediately, though.

"Spike?"

This time her voice was almost a whisper and she looked so shocked and frightened that it nearly choked him.

"Buffy," he nodded in an awkward greeting, fidgeting with his duster pockets as he took her in, blinking rapidly to get rid of the excess water in his stupid eyes.

Her hair was long and bleached a bit more blonde than when he'd last seen her. She looked thinner. A bit more mature. She wore a red v-necked blouse and a black leather jacket.

He folded his arms tightly around himself to keep from touching her. "You look wonderful, luv."

She shook her head. "Spike, I… how?"

"Dunno. It just happened. I'm still dead, Buffy."More so than usual even.

"But you are dead! You've been gone for so long… and, and now you're here. Right here. And looking like..."

And she waved her hands at him, shaking her head in disbelief. He hugged himself some more. She widened her eyes as some kind of realization seemed to settle in.

"I'm dead too now, aren't I?"

"No."

"How can you tell?"

He could have told her that he could smell her blood from the small cut on her forehead and that it was more or less screaming at him to lick it off. Or he could have told her that he could sense her intense body heat, which nearly seared him even standing two feet away. Or he could have told her that he could hear her blood rushing through her smooth and healthy veins and that the sound was as sweet and soothing to him as the sound of a forest stream was to her.

Instead, he carefully reached out and placed his hand on her chest just above her heart. It thrummed against the tips of his fingers and made him smile a bit. Her skin was very soft. "You are alive, sweetheart. So much. Can't you feel it?"

And he looked back up. Her eyes were shining like they'd been the last time he saw her. She reached up and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly. "Spike," she said. Her other hand reached up and cupped his face. "Spike, I've missed you so much." She let go and embraced him. Hard.

A tiny sound sounding like a sob escaped from her throat.

"Oh god, don't cry, Buffy. Missed you too, luv. Every day." He folded his arms around her, hugging her back just as tightly as she was hugging him.

What had he been thinking staying away from her? How could he have done that to her? Here he was, a sodding vampire angel soon to be ripped away from her again. Christ, he was such a moron. He squeezed her even harder, relishing the feel of her body pressed against his. Relishing her, and doing his best to remember everything before he got snatched away. Crying stupid, useless tears once more.

But no one interfered and after a while, they had both stopped sniffling and were simply standing there, breathing in tandem. Buffy rested her cheek against his chest and he ever so carefully rested his chin on top of her head. Her soft hair tickled him. They were gently rocking to and fro. Just resting, and it felt wonderful.

"So what's with the new clothes?" came her muffled voice.

"It's the same outfit I always wear."

She chuckled a bit. "Not quite. But it looks good on you." She pulled back. "You don't have to dress up, though. You're a hero no matter what clothes you wear."

"That makes two of us, luv. But I'm not really a hero. Without you, I'd be rubbish. Or dust. And most definitely in Hell."

Suddenly, he got the premonition that perhaps Buffy wasn't meant to know that he had been appointed as an angel. On the other hand, he didn't want to lie to her. And truth be told, he didn't feel very angelic, white clothes or not. "I've been gone as you know. Not to Hell, but to another dimension of sorts."

"I know. I saw you, remember? It was awful, Spike. But I was so proud of you. I still am."

He smiled, ridiculously pleased at her praise for a moment.

"Yeah, well, about that. All I know is it hurt like a bitch, but it felt right. I died of course, but as I did, I watched the entire Hellmouth collapse around me. And I knew you'd make it out of there. Knew you were going to be all right. It never occurred to me to think otherwise. It was a good death."

He smiled at her. Her eyes shone again. "It was what I wanted, Buffy. What I needed, I think," he added softly.

She nodded and smiled. "It's what heroes do, Spike. Sacrifice themselves. But enough of this hero talk for now, okay? I want to know everything, but you're back and that's what matters. Come, let's go. My apartment isn't too far away. Or do you want to head back to your place? Where're you staying at?"

"Um, nowhere. I just arrived… I'm not even sure where this is."

"You're in Torrance. You know, LA? And good! That means you can come stay at my place."

They walked side by side for about half an hour through quiet suburbs until they came to an older apartment building close to the corner of the main street.

Buffy let them in and while entering her door to her apartment located on the second floor, she added a quiet "Come in, Spike," in passing and that was that. He was in.

Once she'd turned on the lights, he could see that is was a relatively small flat, but a very nice one. There weren't many knick knacks, but it had a homey feeling to it just the same. And it smelled nicely of Buffy. "Been living here for a while?"

"Yeah. Two years. No, that isn't right. Nearly three years now."

"That long?"

He'd thought that she'd looked a bit older than when he last saw her but it didn't really fit into his time lines. He didn't care though. She looked gorgeous and he was with her and that was all that mattered. Still, it would be nice to know when he was.

"What year is it, luv?"

"2011."

"Oh." Seven years since the battle in the alley, then.

"What about the rest of the Scoobies. And the slayers? They still around?"

"Oooo yeah! A lot of the new slayers live at HQ in England, thank God! Giles is in charge. Along with Andrew, would you believe it?"

"Had a hunch he'd go in that direction, yeah."

"You were always Mr. perceptive guy."

He smiled and she smiled back. "I'm gonna go get us something to drink. But I don't have any blood."

"I'll manage."

"Want a coke?"

"Do you have any beer?"

"Nope."

"Coke it is then."

She left to go get the beverages and he shrugged out of his duster and moved to hang it on a hanger rail in the open wardrobe fitted in right next to her entrance door. His hands were shaking a bit and his movements were clumsy. The duster slipped off the hanger on his first try and he had to do it again. His mouth felt completely parched. It was as if he was a bleeding teenage boy out on his first date.

"Ooh, grass stains! They'll be a bitch to clean off."

"Looks poncy anyway. Wouldn't mind a bit of wear and tear."

"Where'd you get it? At "Snow White's"?"

"Har-di-har. No, I lost all my clothes. Wes gave me these. They are a perfect fit – only sodding white, arent' they? It's more than a little cliché if you ask me. Thank god, he didn't give me a white hat as well."

"Yes," she laughed. Then she frowned. "Wes? As in Wesley, the ex-watcher Wes? But he's dead. He was killed in a big fight in LA years ago… We arrived too late. I mean, we kicked those suckers' asses, but only one from Angel's team was alive when we got there.

Spike's throat constricted, as she continued. She had come to help them?

"What was his name? Oh, yeah, Charles Gunn! I didn't stay to speak with him because he was pretty much with the unconscious. He left LA once he got better. But I tried to find Angel and I couldn't. I think he… died before we got there, Spike."

"I know, Buffy. I was there."

"What?!"

"I was there too. I saw Angel being dusted. T'was a bloody big dragon. One minute he was there and the next he was gone."

"You were here? In LA with Angel? But.."

"Look, Buffy. I know I should have contacted you a long time ago. And I know you're going to kick me out in a minute for telling you this, and that I deserve it, all right? But the thing is, I got resurrected right after Sunnydale. Or a few weeks after. Woke up a bloody ghost in Angel's office. Couldn't touch a thing. Fell through the floors and what not.

Buffy moved as if to say something but he held up his hands to stop her.

"Shh. Please, love, don't interrupt me. T'was a right mess and months went by before I got myself back to being all corporal. And the thing is, the longer I stayed dead for you, the less right it felt to contact you. But I did think about it, Buffy. Thought about it all the bloody time. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought to myself, She's better off without you. And you are, sweetheart. Much better off without me. All I'll ever do is remind you of all the sad things that happened to you back in Sunnydale an' you don't need that, love. You don't need that."

"God, Spike. Are you just about done now? You know what, I don't care because you are still such a hopeless dope!"

"Excuse me?"

"God, I don't even… will you come over here?"

He approached her wearily. She'd probably punch him in the nose, and he couldn't help but wince when she reached for him. But then all thoughts escaped his mind as she pulled his head down rather fiercely, and kissed him.

It was a soft kiss. Not at all like the kisses they'd shared back in Sunnydale. Back when he'd tried to make love to her, and all she'd wanted from him was shagging. This was more like the kiss, she'd given him after Glory.

"Such a silly old dope," she said and smiled up at him. She looked beautiful. She looked happy. Full of love. Glowing.

He couldn't help himself. He lowered his head to capture her lips once more. He shivered a bit when he felt her lips part, but he took her invitation and let his tongue glide along her lips and then delve deeper inside her mouth. She was warm and tasted sweet. Tasted like heaven. His own private Buffy heaven.

Stay away from here, Wes. If you come by now I'll rip out your throat, I swear!

"You gonna be my shining white knight from now on, Spike?"

"I'll be yours, love. Always." And I'll spend each day as if it were the last. God, never again am I gonna stay away from you. Never, ever again. Please!

As he'd made his internal vow, a voice rang inside his mind. "Good! Then all is as it should be! I hope it will be a long time, before I'll see you again. Still think the PTBs are bloody wankers?"

"Do knights remove their armor themselves? Or do they let the warrior princesses rip it off? Cause I can do that." Buffy quirked her lips.

He laughed. "All right!" he said and dove in for another kiss, his head spinning with joy.

SOMEWHERE IN ACTUAL HEAVEN IN ONE OF THOSE WONKY TIME LINES

"I know they want to teach him that you have a responsibility for making the most out of what you've been given. And I know that he hasn't exactly been doing that so far. But is this really necessary?"

"Life is what you make it, Angel. It's a gift that you can turn into something wondrous or the exact opposite. The PTB think that Spike still needs to learn what he was supposed to do with his life. Or unlife. When you were cursed with your soul, you chose to go on a mission for redemption and you chose to do what's right. That was your choice despite you being born a rather insufferable prick." Angel opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again, and nodded.

"In other words, you made the most out of what you had been given.

"As for Spike, he held an enormous potential for love before he became a vampire. A potential so big, that it never really left him, not even when he was soulless."

Angel closed his eyes, and nodded some more.

"But once he'd fought for and earned back his soul, he didn't dare reach out and use his extraordinary gift for love. That's a waste, and waste never sits well with the PTB.

"Spike loves Buffy more than anything Angel, and she loves him right back. Of course, you know how it is with the Powers that Be; They'll never tell you all the details, but I've been made to understand that the two of them will be together for the rest of Buffy's life span. And that they will be happy."

Angel sighed. Spike and Buffy did deserve both love and happiness. He could accept that. He could even learn to find joy in it. Eventually.

"And what about you, Wes? What was your gift?"

"I'm not quite sure. Maybe they will let me know some day. But right now, I feel like celebrating a bit. I was thinking that you and I should go listen to some Barry."

"White"?

"No, I'm rather in the mood for some Manilow… Shall we?"

.