Xander squatted before the makeshift door that he had agreed to fix up. He didn't want Buffy staying here, especially with Spike, any more than Willow did. But since Buffy wouldn't change her mind, he couldn't leave her in a house without even a door.

If they told Angel that Buffy was alive, he would want to see her right away and would probably convince her to go back to Los Angeles with him. Until then, he could keep his mouth shut and let Buffy do what she wanted to do.

“The sun's going down.” He tightened the final screw on the hinge and stood up. “We should get going,” he said to Willow and Dawn, who were seated in the dining room with Buffy, the two girls still trying to convince Buffy to go with them.

Buffy stood up, letting out a deep sigh of relief, and walked towards Xander. She gave him a light squeeze on his left arm and said, “I'll see you soon, okay?” She fixed him with an apologetic look, seeing how uncomfortable he was with the idea of leaving without her.

Xander nodded, not trying the least bit to hide his frown. “Just be careful.”

Willow stood up and walked towards the two. “Buffy, are you sure about this?” She wanted, expected even, Buffy to change her mind. It was insane, how Buffy chose to be with Spike rather than be with them. But if this was what she needed, then Willow had to let her be, at least this once.

“Yes, I'm sure,” Buffy said, feeling as if she'd said that too many times already. She figured she should be glad that they didn't question her about heaven or the mystery woman and the shape-shifter. She wasn't ready to talk about those things yet, especially with the people who brought her back in the first place. “I'll be fine.”

Xander and Willow both sighed in defeat, knowing how stubborn Buffy could be.

“Dawn, let's go,” Xander said as he went out the door.

Dawn stood by the foot of the stairwell, clutching the strap of her bag against her shoulder and staring at the wooden floor. “I'm not going.”

Dawn lifted her chin up to meet her sister's questioning gaze. Buffy stepped forward towards her sister. “Dawn, we talked about this.” More than enough times, she thought.

Dawn dropped her shoulders and fiddled with the strap of her backpack. “Why can't I stay? Why can't you come with us?” she asked, her voice close to a whine.

“I just need some time alone.”

“Time alone. With Spike,” Dawn said skeptically.

Buffy sighed in frustration and lowered her eyes to the floor, breathing deeply when Dawn spoke again.

Dawn shifted and softly said, “I just want to understand.”

Buffy couldn't give the answer her sister wanted to hear and thought it was best not to answer her. Instead, she took her sister into her arms and endeavored to soothe her with a hug and a quick kiss on her forehead.

Dawn pulled away with a forced smile and moved past her, glancing at Spike who was standing by the doorway.

Buffy moved to stand beside Spike, and they watched Dawn get into the backseat of the car with one final wave. As the car drove off, Buffy exhaled slowly. Once her friends were out of sight, the two faced each other.

Spike eyed Buffy shrewdly. Buffy stood, with a look of determination and resolution. Without a word, she went down into the basement, the heels of her cream-colored boots clomping on the wooden steps.

Spike heard clanking sounds from below, and moments later, Buffy was closing the door behind her. In her hands were a sledgehammer and a small flashlight.

She stopped in front of him, her face stern, her lips firmly pressed together. “You coming with?” She slipped the flashlight into the front pocket of her jeans.

Spike cocked his head and squinted at her for a second, before grabbing his coat from the railing of the stairs. He looked at her squarely. “Do I have a choice?”

“No,” Buffy said, and walked out into the front yard.

“Thought as much,” Spike said to himself with a nod. He closed the improvised door and jogged after her. When he caught up to her and she looked over her shoulder, he said, “She's human.”

“I know,” Buffy said curtly, not taking a moment to turn to Spike.

“There was nothing there any more.”

“I know,” she said, slightly raising the hammer in her hand as an answer.

Spike laughed softly and shook his head. “Even if we do find her, what then?”

Buffy remained silent as she took long strides, quickening her pace. She didn't know the answer to his question. She didn't know what she wanted to do once she was face to face with the woman, but she knew she wanted to find her. She wanted the woman to see exactly whom she'd messed with.

“You can't kill her,” Spike warned, and jarred Buffy out of her vindictive thoughts.

She stopped abruptly and faced Spike, hot blood of vendetta seething inside her. “I know, okay?” she snapped, flailing her hands, and the sledgehammer, in the air. Spike was taken aback, and backpedaled. She sighed as she softened, gripping the hammer in her white knuckles. “I know.”

“I don't want you doing anything you'd regret,” Spike said just above a whisper as he gazed into her eyes, then at her still wounded knuckles.

She stood before him in silence, sledgehammer in her trembling hands.




“We should have stayed with her,” Dawn muttered, breaking the silence in the car, her arms folded over her bag.

Willow and Xander gave each other looks. Willow remained silent, as she was thinking the same thing as Dawn. But Xander had been set on leaving the minute he'd arrived.

“The food we have left wouldn't be enough for five people for another day,” Xander said as he steered the car around a corner to Main Street.

Dawn huffed and hugged her bag tighter. “Spike doesn't eat.”

Xander breathed harshly. “Then there's still four of us. Plus, we can't go on eating stale cereal and canned goods.”

“We could steal some food,” Dawn argued.

“Dawn!” Willow chided, and Xander shot a reprimanding glare at Dawn in the rear view mirror.

“It's not like anyone would mind.” Dawn looked at the supermarket they'd just passed. The building was only as small as a convenience store. Its fluorescent lights flickered on and off, its glass doors were shattered, and its sign hung unevenly. The littered debris in front of the store was on fire. She shrugged. “It probably won't even be considered stealing,” she mumbled to herself.

Willow looked over at Dawn over the back of the seat. “We'll come back for her when she's ready.”

Dawn raised an eyebrow and said, “And by ‘we’, you mean all of you except me.”

Willow faced front again with a deep breath, closed her eyes and massaged her temples. It was going to be one long ride.

With no warning, the car came to a screeching halt. Dawn and Willow both looked at Xander in surprise.

“Xander?” Willow stared at him questioningly, as he clutched the steering wheel, seemingly deep in contemplation.

It took another “Xander?” from Willow for him to face her. “Maybe we should go back,” Xander said, and both girls smiled. “Because I don't think we can go through that,” he added, pointing at the band of biker demons huddled around a barrel of fire a few yards away. Willow and Dawn gave each other worried glances and frowned.




“Is this it?” Buffy turned to Spike, pointing at the crypt with the sledgehammer, and when he nodded, she kicked the door of the crypt down.

“You do know that was unlocked,” Spike said as he followed Buffy inside.

Buffy shrugged, pulled the flashlight from her pocket and approached the sarcophagus on the right. She stood beside it, a hand gently placed over the marble, over the inscription. Her chin quivered, and Spike cleared his throat and shifted where he stood. Her vision blurred and burned with tears; she clenched her jaw against it.

“You need help–” Spike started to ask, and Buffy pushed the lid off the coffin. “That's a no, then,” he mumbled and walked towards her as she shone the flashlight on the sarcophagus. He saw the same things that he and Xander had seen earlier: bones and a concrete bottom. “Like I said, nothing there.”

“There's no dirt or dust,” she said suddenly, and Spike looked up at her curiously. Then, without warning, she swung the sledgehammer and struck the concrete. Spike stepped back, mouth dropped open, as Buffy continued to bring the sledgehammer down onto the already cracked concrete. He watched as she vigorously continued to smash the concrete. The few large pieces the cement had broken into fell in, revealing the wooden stairwell.

Spike moved to stand next to Buffy again. “Right.” He grimaced at the idea that he didn't realize the cement would have only been a cover and just three inches thick.

Buffy looked up at him and saw the look of failure on Spike's face. “You wouldn't have been able to break it,” she assured him and trained the flashlight inside. The stairs were charred black. It was still there, but barely, and she was sure that it would give in if they attempted to descend it. “She burned it down,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment. She stared blankly with a look of defeat. “She's really gone.”

“Come on,” Spike said softly as he gently took her by the arm.




Xander was sitting on the stairs, his chin resting on his hand, when he heard footsteps on the front porch. “They're here,” he said, and Willow and Dawn came out of the living room into the hallway as the makeshift door opened.

Buffy had been surprised to see their car back in the driveway. “What are you still doing here?”

Xander suspiciously eyed the sledgehammer in Spike's hand. “Demons. We couldn't get past them.”

“Where were you?” Willow asked Buffy worriedly, as Spike came in and stood behind Buffy.

Buffy turned to her but remained silent. She lowered her head, excused herself and went up to her room.

Spike frowned as she watched her, before answering Willow. “Went back to the cemetery. Tried to find the bitch.” He leaned the sledgehammer against the wall.

“I knew it,” Dawn whispered.

“She really wants to find whoever was behind all of this,” Xander said, his lips upturned.

Spike nodded sullenly and made his way upstairs to convince Buffy to go back to Los Angeles with Dawn. The door to Buffy's room was ajar, and she was already stuffing some of her clothes in a gray duffel bag. She looked up when he knocked on the door and stepped in.

Spike pointed at the bag and the clothes splayed on top of the bed. “You're going with them, then?”

Buffy nodded, smiling slightly, wringing the blouse in her hands.

“That's good,” he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose it's for the best.” He sighed. “I'm sorry I couldn't help–”

At this, Buffy couldn't help but speak up. “Spike, you've already done so much for me.”

A grin tore at Spike's lips, but he tried to stifle it. Both of them fell silent for a moment, Buffy fumbling with the blouse in her hands and Spike staring at the floor.

When Spike had taken one hell of a beating from Glory to protect Dawn, Buffy knew he'd do anything for her. She was grateful, and from that moment, trusted him with Dawn. But even after all that, she still didn't trust him with herself, with her heart. Now, she was willing to let him in. “I want you to come with us.”

Spike lit up until he remembered that Angel would be there, and he scoffed. “And see you and your honey give each other mooneyes all day?”

Buffy sighed. “It won't be like that.” She walked closer to Spike and gazed intently into his blue eyes. “I'm not taking no for an answer.”