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Buffy stood there in the doorway for a long moment, staring at the face of her former lover, unsure how to react – what to think, or feel. And then, as the memory of their last conversation, and the way he had spoken to her in front of his crew, came back to her – she decided on a feeling.

Anger.

“What are you doing here?” she said finally, a hard edge to her voice that obviously took Angel by surprise, judging by the startled look he gave her.

“I – I wanted to apologize,” he replied, his voice slightly uncertain, his eyes imploring. “For – for the way I talked to you. It was – rude, and – and I just wasn’t thinking about the way it must have – must have…”

“Humiliated me?” she finished for him, a flat sort of smile on her lips that did not reach her eyes. “No. I’d say you weren’t.”

“Buffy!” he hurried to stop her before she could close the door. “Buffy, please – just hear me out, okay?” As he spoke, he quickly positioned himself in the path of the door, preventing her from shutting him out.

A little grimace of annoyance came over Buffy’s face as she took in his literal foot in the door, and muttered flippantly, “I knew I should have done something about that open invitation of yours.”

“Buffy.”

The hurt in Angel’s voice was so obvious that Buffy found herself meeting his eyes, reluctantly – and her heart smitten with guilt at the sight of the wounded look she saw there. She sighed heavily, looking down again as she stepped back, opening the door wider, shaking her head as she relented, “Fine. Come in. Speak your piece.”

Angel ducked his head slightly as he stepped through the doorway into the house, his hands in his pockets in the manner of a reprimanded little boy.

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” he repeated insistently, as she quietly closed the door and moved into the living room, sitting down on the edge of the couch, her arms crossed tightly over her shoulder, her eyes firmly focused on the wall, refusing to look at him.

“You said that,” she reminded him coolly.

“Look – it was just – hard, you know? Hearing you – talk about – Spike, as if – as if he was – well, I mean…after what we had – and what he did…and you just…”

“Angel – it’s been years since we’ve had anything – or since he’s *done* anything, for that matter,” Buffy pointed out, finally looking up at him as she cut off his awkward rambling. “You don’t know me anymore – and I think it’s probably safe to say you don’t know *him* anymore, either. It was so – so unfair for you to just go off on me like that – in front of all those people…”

“I know – I was wrong, and I’m sorry, Buffy – I just – want you to understand *why* I did,” Angel explained, his voice quiet and subdued. “You – you will always mean a lot to me, and – and it’s obvious that – that Spike – means something to you now. I don’t know how, or what…but I just – had a hard time dealing with that…”

Buffy was surprised, and a bit impressed in spite of herself – both with Angel’s perception in figuring out that there was something going on between her and Spike; and also with his honesty in admitting how he felt about it.

*Maybe I don’t know *him* so well anymore, either,* he admitted to herself silently, regarding him thoughtfully.

“It’s okay, Angel,” she relented finally with a weary sigh. The truth was, at the moment, she had much more to worry about than her issues with Angel. “It just – hurt, that’s all. I thought you – had more respect for me than that.”

“I do,” Angel assured her quietly. “I do, Buffy – that’s why I’m here. I – I knew I owed you an apology, and – and I couldn’t just let it go. You deserved to hear it from me in person.”

Buffy nodded silently, not having any response for that. After a long moment of silence, she replied simply, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Another awkward moment of silence passed before Buffy sighed, leaning forward and placing her head in her hands, as she muttered more to herself than to Angel, “Why does this always have to be so freakin’ hard?”

Angel’s vampire hearing allowed him to hear the words, and he shook his head, his sigh matching hers as he sank down on the arm of the chair across from the sofa, his head bowed as he replied softly, “I don’t know, Buffy. I guess it’s just – something we have to deal with. The whole – wanting to be together – when it’s just not possible…”

Buffy looked up at him, quietly incredulous – though he missed the look, his eyes still downcast – as she realized that Angel still believed that she was in love with him.

And in the same moment, Buffy realized for the first time, that she really and truly was not.

“Well,” she said finally, after another interminable silence, as she stood up and headed toward the door. “Thank you for coming, Angel – for making things right. I appreciate it – and I hate to be so brief, but – you really have no idea how much stress I’m under right now. I’m – so unbelievably busy right now, and I really need to…” Her voice trailed off, as she realized that she really did not want to inform Angel as to what it was that she had to do.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked casually as he made his way toward the door, not quite meeting her eyes.

“No,” she sighed. “I don’t think so…I think I need to handle this myself.”

There was a pause, as Angel stopped in the doorway, turning to face her with a level, piercing gaze. “Sure about that?” he asked quietly. “I mean – there might be – something I could do…”

Buffy stared at him for a long moment, a frown forming on her brow as she tried to read his expression – and then fading into an incredulous, indignant look as understanding came to her.

“How did you – you *knew* when you came here what was going on, and you didn’t tell me!” she accused him angrily, suddenly pushing him away from the doorway, back into the house, and closing the door hard. “You put on the whole big apology act, and all the while you knew already and…”

“No – I really did want to apologize to you, Buffy…”

“But that’s not why you came here…”

“It’s *part* of why I came here…”

“And what’s the other part?” she demanded, arms folded once again over her chest, only this time in a challenge rather than a defense. “Why are you here, Angel?”

“Because he’s family!” he snapped back suddenly – taking them both by surprise with the vehemence and conviction in his voice.

After a moment of shocked silence, both yielded from the fierce stare down taking place between them, at the same time, as the steam seemed to go out of their anger.

“That’s how you knew, isn’t it?” Buffy realized, her voice more subdued now. “Because you’re his sire, or grandsire or whatever? It’s some – freaky vampire bond thing?”

“Sire,” Angel corrected simply, before replying with a small smirk of mild amusement, “and yes, it’s a ‘freaky vampire bond thing’. He’s family,” he repeated firmly, holding her gaze intently. “I’d – I’d been feeling it for a while, when you came to see me.”

Her eyes snapped back up to his in shock at that admission – and he had to look away, ashamed.

“I just – I was understandably pretty mad at him, Buffy. I told you about the last time I saw him – I’m sure you can understand why I wasn’t exactly eager to run out and rush to his rescue,” Angel pointed out, more than a little defensive. He was silent for a long moment, before he added, his voice softer now, “But – by now – I am. You can’t resist the call of family – not for long.”

“It was long enough,” Buffy bit off the words, full of accusation as she glared at him. “Too long.”

Angel winced slightly, his eyes apologetic. “How bad is he?”

“Much worse than he would have been if you’d tried to find him when you first knew he was in trouble,” she shot back, her eyebrows raised in a challenge. “But you had to just ignore it – and you should see him now, Angel! I hope you’re happy with what you allowed to happen…”

“Where is he?” Angel asked, his eyes softening with concern as he glanced around the room and then up the stairs, taking a step in that direction.

“*No*,” Buffy snapped, her voice low and every bit the Slayer, as she smoothly stepped between Angel and the stairs, a look of steely determination in her glittering emerald eyes.

Angel stopped, sighing heavily and lowering his head for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Buffy. I’m sorry I didn’t help you to begin with – but please – please let me help now. I *want* to help – and I’m his sire. I *can*.”

Buffy studied his expression for a moment, her eyes intent and troubled as she tried to decide.

Her mental deliberations were cut off by the ringing of the doorbell.

Frowning, she turned toward it, pausing to reiterate firmly, “Don’t, Angel – not until I’ve had a chance to talk to you. You need to know what to expect – he’s not – not the same…”

Angel nodded silently, a worried frown creasing his brow as she moved to answer the door. He glanced almost compulsively up the stairs again – but made no move toward them.

Buffy opened the door – and could hardly suppress her irritated sigh.

“Hi, Riley – I’m – kind of busy right…now…”

Her weak protest trailed off as the ex-soldier strode past her into the house, shrugging off her words. “Anything I can help with?”

“No,” she replied emphatically, a slight tremble of ironic laughter in her voice. She wasn’t sure yet whether she was going to tell Riley about Spike at all – let alone enlist his help in caring for him.

As if he would be willing to help at all, anyway – once he knew what it was that she was doing.

The tension level in the room rose immediately as her two exes caught sight of each other, and fell into a stony silence weighted with the unspoken challenge that lay unfinished between them.

“Riley – you remember Angel,” she said flatly, and completely unnecessarily.

“Yeah,” Riley replied slowly, his attention focused on Angel. “What’s he doing here?”

“Riley!” Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I have every right to be here,” Angel countered, turning around and stepping toward Riley with unmistakable menace in his stance. “What are *you* doing here, boy?”

“Um, hello?” Buffy broke in, rolling her eyes as she stepped deliberately between the two posturing males and placed a hand on each of their chests, pushing them back away from each other with just enough force to remind them that they were dealing with the Slayer.

“Remember me? The one who actually *lives* here, and gets to decide who’s allowed to be here?” she asked pointedly, looking back and forth between them. “And since I let both of you in, I’d say this whole discussion is pointless.” Satisfied that there would be no immediate outbreak of violence, she turned away from them, shaking her head as she muttered resentfully, “Though why I did, I’m really not sure…”

“Hey!” Angel objected, offended.

“What?” Riley frowned, his human hearing not having picked up her words.

Before she could be pressed to explain, or intervene in another tense showdown between the two – Buffy was frustrated and surprised to hear her doorbell ring yet again.

“Grand Central Station around here, and I really don’t have time for this!” she snapped at no one in particular, as she turned and opened the door again. Her expression softened somewhat at the disarming smile on the face of the new person at the door, and she sighed, a resigned smile coming to her lips as she remembered that *this* person was actually *supposed* to be here tonight, for the weekly movie night that he shared with her and Dawn.

Neither she or Dawn had thought to call and cancel for the evening.

“Hey, Xand,” she sighed wearily. “Come on in. Join the party.”

He stepped through the door, his smile fading as he saw who was already gathered there. The three men looked back and forth among themselves for a few tense moments, before Xander remarked flatly, “Wow. Some party.”

Buffy drew in a deep breath, wondering how her evening had spun out of her control so quickly, when all she really wanted to do was to spend it the same way she had spent her day – cuddled up in her bed with her sister and Spike, watching television and bonding with the man she had thought that she had lost forever.

She quickly came to terms with the fact that before that could happen, an explanation was going to be necessary.

Or – perhaps not.

A sudden sound on the stairs drew Buffy’s attention – and the attention of the others – as Buffy’s heart dropped into her stomach with a sudden sick sense of apprehension. Dawn’s voice was clearly heard from the top of the stairs.

“Come on – that’s it – you can do it…*Buffy*!” she called down the stairs excitedly. “Come look at this, look at how much better he’s doing! He’s walking on his own!”

“Who is?” Xander asked, curious, as he ambled toward the bottom of the stairs.

“Dawn…” Buffy objected, wanting to stop her sister – but then realizing that if she stopped Dawn, it would look as if she was trying to hide Spike from the others…and *that* would certainly not tend to make them see the situation in any sort of positive light. “Dawnie, Honey, wait…”

But Dawn was too excited to pay attention to her, as she backed slowly down the stairs, her hands held out in front of her, an encouraging smile on her face. As she reached the middle of the stairs, the group in the living room could see the hands that she held in hers, as she guided her charge carefully down the stairs.

When they came low enough that they could see who the person was -- near pandemonium broke out as everyone began to speak at once.

“What is *he* doing here?” Riley snapped, disgust clear in his voice.

“Um – Buffy – you and Evil Dead here aren’t…?”

“Xander!” she cut him off sharply, giving him a warning look that reminded him that the history he was about to refer to was not exactly common knowledge.

As for Angel, his intent gaze had not left the open, slightly lost expression on the face of his childe. When the others began to speak, he took a step toward the staircase, holding out a warning hand toward the others as he addressed his question to the Slayer.

“My God, Buffy – what happened to him?”

Spike was on about the fourth step, when he suddenly froze, his eyes wide with shock, his body rigid with terror.

“Spike?” Dawn frowned with concern, the first to notice his reaction. “Spike – what…?”

The blonde vampire made no attempt to respond, just began slowly shaking his head, as he jerked his hands out of Dawn’s and back-pedaled rapidly – the only problem being that he was on the stairs, and in so doing, only managed to fall backward onto his rear on the stairs.

Panicked, he drew back against the banister beside him, a high-pitched keening sound, somewhere between a sob and a wail, rising in his throat as he drew his arms up over his head in a pitiful attempt at self-defense against some unknown foe.

Buffy’s eyes widened in alarm as she rushed without hesitation toward the stairs, joining her sister, who was attempting to put her arm around the fearful, resistant vampire, as she whispered reassuringly to him.

“Spike – Honey, what is it?” Buffy murmured, sitting down on the stairs beside him, taking his hands firmly in hers and pulling them gently but insistently down away from his face. “Spike – it’s okay, Spike – calm down, Sweetheart…”

“Sweetheart?” Riley scoffed, his eyebrows raised in skeptical derision.

“Buffy?” Xander’s voice was cautious, full of concern, though Buffy knew that the concern was for her, not Spike. “What’s going on? Can I help?”

Buffy’s outstretched hand toward him, though she did not look at him, halted him where he was. He knew better than to move any closer, but he stayed near in case Buffy should need him to do anything.

Angel ignored the unspoken order, slowly approaching his trembling, terrified childe, who seemed to be attempting to burrow into the Slayer’s side, as she held him close to her, trying to soothe him – with little success.

“Spike?”

The smaller vampire flinched visibly at the low, soft sound of his sire’s voice, freezing momentarily, before pulling back further against Buffy, a pleading whimper in his throat as he clung to her, wordlessly begging for her protection.

“Angel!” she said sharply, her voice hoarse with tears that she had not realized she was shedding until that moment. “Angel, don’t!”

He ignored her, taking another slow cautious step toward the little group huddled on the stairs. “Spike – look at me, Spike,” he said softly, calmly, his dark eyes focused on him intently.

“He doesn’t even know what you’re saying,” Dawn snapped through angry, frustrated tears. “Just back off, Angel!”

A slight frown of annoyance passed across his brow, and then was gone, as Angel resolutely ignored her as well as Buffy, advancing further – and though Buffy was apprehensive about what he was doing, unsure how he could possibly help…something in his face kept her from taking any further action to stop him.

That – and the fact that beside her, Spike had gone completely still.

He still clung to her, his eyes screwed tightly shut, his trembling hands clutching desperately at her blouse – but his shaking had lessened, and his head was tilted slightly toward the older vampire, as he appeared to be listening to his soft, almost hypnotic words.

Angel stopped his advance a few yards from the foot of the stairs. “Spike,” he repeated, a note of authority in his voice – which then softened, as he tried again, more gently.

“*William*…”

Spike went completely still all at once – and then suddenly, withdrew from Buffy, pushing weakly past a stunned, dumbfounded Dawn to stumble blindly down the few remaining stairs – assuming a horrifyingly familiar subservient position at the feet of his sire, who immediately crouched down beside him, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder in a reassuring gesture of comfort.

Though his eyes were solemn with grim dismay at the horrible abuse that had obviously been done to Spike, a slight smile formed on Angel’s face at the considerable success of his attempt. He looked up at Buffy, his lips parted to speak – and froze, at the look of stunned, disgusted accusation on the faces of both girls.

“Angel,” Buffy whispered, her eyes wide and stricken with horror, as she shook her head in a sheer refusal to believe what her eyes were telling her. “My God, Angel – what have you done?”