CHAPTER THREE

Buffy crossed the Wolfram and Hart lobby quickly, her head held high. It had been only nineteen days since the fall of Sunnydale, and they had already found thirty-six new Slayers. The group had split up, Giles was in England with Andrew, Xander had gone to Africa to round up Slayers there. She and Dawn had headed to Rome, almost out of whim, and she’d set up Headquarters there, despite Giles reorganising a new Watcher’s Council in London.

She had been heading a small squad before... now, she had a small army. Time she played General.

She noticed a shocked Harmony over to her right, and that she was receiving stunned glances from some of the suit-wearing members of staff. She couldn’t help but smile smugly. Obviously, her reputation preceded her. Striding over to Harmony, she let her inner Commanding Officer out.

“Where’s Angel?”

“He’s, uh... in a meeting at the moment. Hi, Buffy.” Harmony answered with a nervous titter “How’re you?”

“I need to see him now.” Buffy ignored the other blonde’s attempt at friendly small talk, glaring at her. “Where is he?”

Harmony pointed, for once wordlessly, at a door to the far left. Buffy could just make out the plaque on the wood of the partially open door: Charles Gunn, Attorney At Law.  Nodding once, Buffy spun on her heel and headed towards the office.

“But, I don’t think you want to go in there right now! It’s...” Harmony’s warning died off as she realised that Buffy wasn’t listening.

“You don’t have to take that from him mate.”

Buffy stopped in her tracks. No. No. It couldn’t...The achingly familiar British accent sounded from behind the door, and Buffy’s heart
jumped. It couldn’t be.

“Stay out of this, Spike.” Angel’s harsh voice answered, and Buffy felt her stomach twist. It was true, her mind wasn’t lying to her. Spike was here. “You don’t work here.”

“Damn right I don’t.” Buffy could almost hear the smirk in his voice. Taking another step forward, she had to hold back a gasp. He had his back to her, and he was wrapped tightly in his leather duster, his arms obviously folded across his chest. Buffy let her eyes study him, the tension in the muscles of his back, the part of his legs in the way he stood, the blonde hair, the soft skin at the nape of his neck...
No burns or blood from his death. He was back. He was truly back.

He was back and he hadn’t told her.

Anger replaced the joy she was feeling. The bastard was back from the dead, and he hadn’t even bothered to pick up the phone? Didn’t he... he said he loved her, and he couldn’t even be bothered to call her. Angel had her number, so it’s not like he couldn’t have gotten a hold of her.

Buffy forced back the tears that were budding in her eyes. He had ignored her, left her in the dark.

Let’s see how he likes it, she thought, folding her arms over her chest.
“...If a certain Slayer could see you now...” Spike’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she stepped forward, hiding her feelings under a mask of superiority and professionalism that she’d perfected over the last year. One that Spike knew too well. She’d used it to hide her feelings from him enough times.

“I can see him now.” She watched as both Angel and Spike spun around to face her, and she felt her heart tighten at the expressions flickering over Spike’s face. Surprise, hurt, confusion, joy, fear... turning her direct attention away from him, she glared at Angel. “You are talking about me aren’t you?”

 
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Wesley turned away from Willow, frowning. The spacious office was becoming more and more cramped, he had joined them earlier, and they were still waiting on Fred and Lorne. “It seems our friends were, ah, also... unaware of the resurrective qualities of the amulet.” He held up the object in question. “It seems they were completely oblivious to the fact that Spike was going to rematerialize at all, let alone in your office.”

“Clearly,” one of the girls snorted. Kennedy.

Wesley turned to Buffy, who was now sitting next to Willow, the redhead’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I honestly don’t know what’s going on, Buffy. But we will find out what’s happening, and why he is incorporeal.” Wesley handed her the amulet gently, watching as she turned it over in her hands.

“Incor-what?” Faith interjected, straightening in her seat.

“Incorporeal.” Fred’s voice entered the conversation as she did the room, followed closely by Lorne. Gracing them all with a bright grin she continued as she walked over to stand by Wesley. “Hi, Willow. Faith.”

Wesley offered her a small smile, before turning to the others. “Buffy, Kennedy, this is Fred and Lorne. Fred heads our Practical Science Department and Lorne runs our Entertainment Division. Fred, Lorne, this is Buffy and Kennedy.”

Fred offered both girls a warm, welcoming smile, and Lorne beamed at them both. “So this is the infamous Buffy I’ve been hearing so much about? Especially in the last two hours. No wonder the two of you won’t stop talking about her, Angel, this girl is downright gorgeous!”

The vampire glowered at Lorne, but he was too busy grinning at Buffy to notice. Kennedy tightened the grip on her stake.

Buffy offered them both a small, polite smile and a hint of a blush at the demon’s words before turning her attention back on Fred. “What do you mean he’s incorporeal?”

“I ran a few tests on him, and the heat-signatures he is giving off, teamed with the spectrum readings—“ Angel coughed pointedly.“Right... basically he’s some sort of spirit.”

“He’s a ghost?” Kennedy interrupted.

“No, not exactly,” Fred took a seat in one of the arm chairs in front of Angel’s desk. “I’m not getting any evidence of ectoplasm off him, which means—“

“—that we wouldn’t be able to see him if he really was ghostly.” Willow surmised, speaking up for the first time.

“Right.” Fred grinned, perking up. “Hey, maybe you could take a look at him? Being a witch, maybe you can see something science missed.”

“That’s great, really,“ Buffy interrupted, standing. “But before we get into the how’s and why’s, how about we go with the where’s? Where is he?”

“I was with him in the lab a little while ago, but he left. I thought he was going to come and find you, but obviously... he didn’t.”
Wesley turned to Willow. “We think that because of his mystical ties to the amulet, that he can’t leave city limits, so maybe a locator spell...?”

“There’s no need for a sodding spell.” Spike’s voice interrupted him, and the eight people in the office turned to stare at the doorway. Spike was standing there with his hands in his duster pockets, his eyes on Buffy. “I’m right here.”