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Guilty Soul

Author: UncagedMuse

Rating: NC17 later

Summary: Set in season 5 of Angel. A personal journal written by Buffy Summers just before the destruction of Sunnydale is found in the excavation Angel is heading. What will it reveal to the two men who love her and how will each react?  Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I’m just using them for my own twisted satisfaction.

A/N: I was having a chat with my great friend Steph/Athenewolfe last week about the show and the different flaws of the characters when this idea assaulted me and wouldn’t let go. Thanks Steph for the spark. Also huge thanks for the beta work and suggestions go to Megan and Tam! I love my betas.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Prologue

Findings

He walked through the halls of Wolfram and Hart, running his hand along the wall as he went. It had only been a day since his miraculous transformation into a real boy and he was still in awe of once again being corporeal. Being able to touch anything - even a wall - felt amazing. He refused to give voice to the fear that at any moment it could all be ripped away and he could be thrust into hell. Instead of letting it eat at him, he decided to go annoy his grandsire. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to goad him into throwing a punch. A malicious smile spread across his face at the thought.

Reaching Angel’s inner sanctum, Spike snickered and shoved the double doors open with enough force to bang the walls on either side. That would have the broody poof immediately seething with anger.

“’Lo, Peaches. How’s it hangin’?” He sauntered in grinning like the devil himself. “Oh, sorry mate. Are your dangly bits still attached or did they shrivel up and fall off from lack of use?”

“Spike,” snarled Angel, forcefully shoving his chair back and standing. He knew Spike was baiting him and was trying to keep his anger in check before they both wound up bruised and bloody. “Why is it whenever my day starts out perfect, you have to show up in my office? Is being a pain in my ass your only pastime?”

“Well yeah.” Spike shrugged, rolling his eyes in a way that reminded Angel of Buffy. “It’s about the only mischief a bloke can get into ‘round here. What could be more fun than watching that huge vein in your Cro-Magnon forehead bulge out? Can’t wait ‘til the day the bloody thing bursts,” Spike taunted, hoping he would say just the right thing to set Angel off and get in his daily dose of violence.

Said vein began to throb as Angel clenched his fists tightly at his sides, refusing to give his irritating grand-childe the satisfaction of the brawl he was aiming for. He’d always harbored intense feelings of dislike for Spike, but looking back on the bad old days with his soul in place he realized most of it sprung from the fact that Spike had taken everything  Angelus dished out and asked for more with a smile. Angelus was a sadistic bastard that reveled in the pain of others, but he’d never had to prove himself to Darla the way Spike had to him and his demon resented Spike for making him feel inferior.

“Could you for once do what I ask and leave? There are lots of other things you could be doing now that you’re corporeal again.” Angel’s voice took on a faint whine, desperate for the peace and quiet Spike had shattered with his presence.

It was always fun to make Mr. Broody Pants cry, but that wasn’t what Spike was in the mood for. He was finally in the flesh and his hyper body screamed for a few good rounds with fists and fangs. Well, that or a game of naked Twister with a certain slayer who still held his heart.

The smile that had graced his face slipped away. He had to stop doing this to himself. He couldn’t show up on her door step after such a glorious death and say it didn’t take. No, he needed to let her go; leave her to that all important normal life she’d dreamed of.  He tried everything to distract himself from thoughts of Buffy and he hoped that someday it might actually work. Maybe one day it wouldn’t ache in every molecule of his being.

‘Stop wallowing in self-pity, you poof! If gel boy isn’t up to a good fight, just find somethin’ else to take your mind off her,’ Spike told himself.

While Spike was lost in his thoughts, Wesley burst in, red faced and staring down at something in his hands. Not noticing the bleached vampire in his path, Wes slammed into him, knocking them both to the floor and launching what appeared to be a tattered brown leather journal across the room.

“Dear Lord!” Wes exclaimed scrambling to his feet in an attempt to catch the book that landed with a thump just out of reach. He knew if there was any damage to this particular object that Angel would never forgive him.

“Watch it, Oxford,” Spike grumbled, standing back up and brushing himself off. “What’s got your knickers so knotted?”

Picking up the journal with care, Wesley began to stutter, “Umm…Well yes…you see, this is…I found this while going through a box of books that was found in the excavation of Sunnydale. It appears…I think it may be a journal written by Buffy.” Wes stared at Angel sympathetically. He knew his boss still felt strongly for the small blonde slayer, even if he rarely spoke of her. Then he realized with a jolt that the other vampire who’d loved her was also in the room and turned to give Spike a small, tense smile.

“I only read the first few pages before it became clear that nothing she wrote in this particular diary had anything to do with the supernatural. Discovering it to be of a personal nature instead, I immediately stopped and brought it to you,” Wesley said quietly while handing the worn leather book to Angel. 

Spike felt his heart soar before his own insecurities got the better of him.  Any hope of reading her words crashed against the metaphorical rocks. He fought the urge to snatch the little book and make a run for it, knowing his grandsire would do everything in his power to keep it from him. Quickly forming a plan to return when Angel was sleeping and steal the book, Spike decided his best course of action was to fake indifference and leave.

“Since you prats are gonna natter on about stuff I’ve got no interest in, I’ll go find something more lively to do,” Spike snorted, rolling his eyes in disgust before spinning quickly and stalking out the door. Tears pooled in his eyes and his un-beating heart cracked a little more with the pretense of denying his golden goddess, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

Angel smiled down at the journal he was lovingly caressing. Buffy’s own words, right here in his hands just waiting for him to open it up and see what she had to say to him.

It didn’t bother Angel that this was supposed to be something private and only for the eyes of a woman who was still very much alive. It was written by his Buffy, after all. He was sure to find beautifully detailed descriptions of the tender feelings she held for him inside. 

“A-Angel, perhaps it would be p-prudent to contact Buffy on our find? I’m certain she would love t-to know it still exists,” Wesley stuttered, not believing his eyes as his boss flung himself down in his chair and opened to the first page.

Angel couldn’t wait to find out the wonderful things she had to say about him, so he dismissed Wes with a wave of his hand and began to read.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

A/N Thanks to Megan and Tam for the great suggestions and beta work! Buffy’s journal entries will be in quotes. This way I can break in with Angel’s reactions to what he’s reading. Also this is only the beginning of the journal. There will be in depth entries in chapters to come of each of the core Scoobies as well as Angel and Spike. One more thing. The writings in the journal will have some small flaws in grammar, punctuation and sentence structure. It’s supposed to be a journal after all and no one writes perfectly in something that is for their eyes only.

Chapter One
Who Am I

From the journal of Buffy Summers

10/11/02

“Spike is back.

Last night I was struck by a revelation that sent me running for my sanity. I can’t believe now that I just left him there, hugging that cross with the smell of his burning flesh choking me. I can still hear his pain filled voice asking if we could rest now, but at the time I was too stunned to move. Nothing made much sense after his confession that he’d somehow gotten his soul back, and that he’d done it for me.

I ran home faster than I’ve ever run before. The voices inside my head were driving me crazy; one screaming that no one has ever loved me more or better than Spike, while the other demanded that I should stake him and put him out of his misery. But that misery is my doing, and if I’m such a good and pure person, how could I even think of killing him? He’s talking to imaginary people and not making any sense half the time because he wanted to be what I thought he should be. How can I abandon him when he needs me?

It took the shock of Spike’s words and actions last night to make me see that something is really off inside me. If I weren’t so screwed up, I wouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Of course, who else can show me those hard truths but Spike? He always knows me better than I know myself and messes up everything I think I’ve finally figured out. After what happened last May, I was sure that I would never see him again. Then last week he shows up, all with the craziness in the school basement, forcing good and bad memories of him to bubble up. Especially the never leaving part. He’s the only one to see the real me. The good, the bad and the really ugly and still stand by me. He’s nothing like the other men in my life. Why has it been so hard for me to see how deeply he loves me?”

Angel jumped up, slinging the book across the room and growling, “I did that for you! Walking away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done! Why do you have to keep slapping me in the face with it?”

Realizing he was yelling at a book, he calmly picked it up off the floor and went back to his desk. After flipping through the pages slowly, trying to get his anger under control, he finally settled where he’d left off and resumed reading.

“I was steadily becoming completely unglued, so I reached for my journal, hoping that by writing everything down I could stop the ache in my heart. I was so out of it from all the crying that I accidentally grabbed the first one. The one I started just after moving to Sunnydale. I started to toss it aside and grab this one when a crazy thought gripped me.

The last few years have left me completely confused about myself, my friends, my thoughts on real love, and a supposedly evil vampire. The purpose of me getting all philosophical with the journal writing in the first place was to help me work through my muddled emotions and find the point where I became so cold and twisted towards others. Yeah, I could blame everything on being pulled out of heaven by my friends, but it started long before that and I have used that excuse for too long. Maybe by going back to the beginning - back before all the pain started - I could find what I needed. Maybe I could get past it and make amends to everyone in my life.

In those pages I found such idealistic hopes and dreams from a young teenage girl I no longer recognize. There were so many entries about the new friends I’d made and the mysterious handsome stranger who warned me of upcoming dangers.

I saw a sweet, smart young redhead with a shy smile that was always eager to help and a boy whose jokes never failed to bring a smile to my face. Then there was my watcher in all his tweedy glory that seemed to always have a stake up his butt that first year. Looking back now, I can see they have changed so much - maybe as much as me - and not always for the better. They seem to think they should tell me how to live my life, even if they don’t know how to live their own. I love them all but I don’t think I can completely trust them. Especially Giles. I’m not saying he would do anything to hurt me intentionally, but he would do something for my own good even if he didn’t know what that was.

Then there’s Angel.”

Sitting up straighter, Angel grinned smugly. “Now we’re getting to the good stuff. I knew it wouldn’t take long for her to get to me.”

“The love of my life. Was he really that, or was he just a fantasy of the first love every girl has at that age? I don’t really know, anymore. I put him up on a pedestal and kept him perfect in my mind for so many years. Some of the things I’ve heard from LA since he walked away from me makes me think he was never really who I thought he was. I used to make excuses for the bad things that I’ve heard about him, but now with all my old writings scattered before me, I think I’m ready to really see him for the first time.

Last, but certainly not least on my list of people I must examine other than myself is, of course, Spike. The vampire who has complicated the hell out of my life since he first told me he was gonna kill me in the alley behind the bronze. Up until last night, whether we were fighting, talking, screaming at each other, or trying to screw each other to death, I have always clung to the fact that he was a soulless vampire which equaled BIG EVIL. No matter how many times he saved my life, protected my sister, or respected my mom, I held on to my memories of Angelus and used them to keep from letting Spike into my life.

As for me; well, I really don’t know what I feel. I don’t think I’m really the good person people say I am. I don’t even know if I ever knew what real love is or how to open myself to anyone. However, I do know that my experiences have done more damage than others might think. That’s the whole point of this; to find out when I became so hard and work on fixing myself.

Having said all this, I guess its time I got started sorting through each and every part of my life spent in Sunnydale, including the good things and the terribly bad (which we have all ignored) about myself and the people around me.

This is gonna take a while.”

@~@~@~

Angel was stunned by the first few pages of Buffy’s journal. She was acting as if she didn’t know him at all. And who’d been saying things about him to her? Probably that watcher of hers. He’d always held him responsible for the death of his girlfriend. Why couldn’t they understand he’d lost his soul? That it wasn’t him. If he ever found out for sure he’d kill them.

It unnerved him to see her writing about their love in the past tense. How could his little Buffy believe that what they shared wasn’t true love? How could she even suggest that it might be just the ideals of a young girl? For five and a half years they’d fought to stay apart so his soul would be safe from that moment of happiness. Now he was reading that for her it wasn’t anything like he remembered it being.

The insanity that his lowly grand-childe was deserving of her kindness and consideration because he supposedly loved her was outrageous. There was no way Spike could love her or know her better than he did.

His face flashed between his demon and human visage at the disgusting thought of Spike touching his precious Buffy. Of course the evil pain in his ass had used that subject to goad him into throwing a punch at him before, but seeing it in her own girlish handwriting twisted his insides into excruciating knots. How could she let him touch her? And how could she get pleasure from such a touch?

Something else he didn’t understand was what she’d said so far about her best friends and her watcher. He couldn’t remember them doing anything to her that she would think of as ‘terrible’, except maybe pulling her out of heaven.

Rubbing his hand across his face, Angel stood up and walked over to the wet bar. If he was going to continue reading what was hidden between the leather coverings, he needed a stiff drink. Or six.

He couldn’t even understand why he was letting this get to him anyway. He was positive that in the pages to come, Buffy’s scribblings would confirm she was still in love with him and always would be. It was clear she was using this to examine her life and the people in it, which meant he would have to go through the heartache with her to finally see how much she longed to be with him. It was just going to be a little rough getting there. But he could do it. She was his cookie after all.

Deciding the quicker he read, the sooner he would get to what he knew as truth, Angel took his glass of scotch and sat back in his chair to stare at the open book before him.

Chapter Two

New Friends

A/N: As always I bow to the power of my wonderful betas. *applauds* Megan and Tam.

*~*~*~

To say he was in shock could only be described as an understatement. Seeing his boss and friend - a man he’d looked up to for years - dismiss the fact that Buffy was still alive and may not want her private thoughts delved into was distasteful to say the least. A loathsome shudder wound its way up Wesley’s spine as he pondered the idea that Angel might see it as perfectly permissible to look into any one of their personal affairs without their knowledge. The idea of it was intolerable and bordered on frightening. 

On his way back to his office to continue looking through the other books found at the dig, Wesley decided to take a little detour. He knew instinctively that he would find the vampire in Fred’s lab. She was the only one of them who’d treated Spike with friendship and an open mind since he’d burst forth from the amulet. Her sweet and understanding nature eased the bleached vampire’s loneliness in a virtual sea of people loyal to a man that couldn’t stand him.

After witnessing Angel’s blasé attitude in regards to Buffy’s feelings, Wes decided it was past time he got to know the newest souled vampire and formed his own opinions. Something told him that if he’d pointed out the same thing to Spike as he had to Angel, Spike would have understood the need to contact the Slayer first. Sure, being evil he might take a peek or two at the parts about him, but having the arrogance to believe he had the right to do so and boldly scouring its entirety without calling to tell her he had it was another story.

Walking into the lab he saw the black-clad figure standing next to the petite Texan. Wes was surprised to see a genuine smile on his face rather than the irritating smirk he wore around the rest of them.

“Ah, Spike, there you are. I was hoping you might have some time to be of assistance on a project,” Wesley said. He moved as close to Fred as he dared and inhaled her baby powder scent. Looking up, he was startled to find the vampire’s blue eyes fixed on him with an unfamiliar look of understanding. Spike smiled again without a hint of malice and Wes was aware of a feeling of kinship between them. Perhaps because of his own unrequited love, a small bond had begun forming with the bleached vampire.

“What do ya want my help for? Thought I was just an annoyance,” Spike questioned with a sardonic smirk.

“True, you can be exasperating at times, but I thought you might be able to identify some of the items from Sunnydale. It would be gratifying if we were able to return even a small portion to its proper owners.” Wesley smiled with a glint of amusement in his eyes at the vampire’s forthrightness, trying to imagine Angel ever being so honest.

“Might as well. It ain’t like I got anythin’ better to do,” Spike answered with an eye roll for Fred’s benefit.

“I’ll see ya later, Spike,” Fred drawled, giggling girlishly at his antics.

“Lead on.” Spike waved Wesley passed, giving him a wide berth.

This was the first time anyone had sought him out for any reason and since it was Wes, the big broody one’s right hand man, he was puzzled. “What’s all this really ‘bout, Oxford? The grand ponce want you keepin’ an eye on me or somethin’ while he noses ‘round in the Slayer’s private stuff?”

“Actually, Angel has no idea I came looking for you.” Wesley grinned wryly, walking through the opened door of his office. “His dismissive attitude towards contacting Miss Summers about her journal was a little disconcerting, I must say. I plan to be nowhere near him when she finds out. She will not be happy.”

“Where’s the fun in that? She’ll probably rip the git’s head off and I’m gonna have a front row seat to the festivities myself.” Spike chortled, sprawling out in a plush leather arm chair and grabbing one of the boxes full of Sunnydale paraphernalia.

“Yes, well as entertaining as that might be, I think I will steer clear when it happens.” Wesley laughed. Seeing Spike’s look of disbelief at his comment he elaborated, “I think whatever punishment the Slayer sees fit to bestow upon Angel for his arrogance is well deserved. I would never want anyone reading something as personal as what the few pages I glanced at held.”

“What kinda things we talkin’ ‘bout here, Watcher Junior?” Spike looked up with a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. He knew it wasn’t right to go messing around in Buffy’s intimate thoughts, but it was hell knowing that she might have written something about him and not be able to see it. She’d kick his ass good and proper for even thinking of reading it and he knew that was what she should do, but being completely in the dark about her feelings was ripping him to shreds.

“Spike, I know how you feel about Buffy and believe me I can sympathize,” Wes said, looking him in the eyes and letting him see his honesty and understanding. “But all I am willing to say on the matter is that she seemed to be trying to analyze her life and come to terms with herself as well as others.”

Spike jumped up from his chair and began to pace as he ran his hand through his bleached locks. Wes was right, of course, but that didn’t mean he was going to be able to resist having a little look-see at her journal.

“Yeah, well doesn’t make it any bloody easier knowin’ she’s probably said something ‘bout me in there and not bein’ able to see it, now does it? Know it’s not right, but it’s driving me over the soddin’ edge just thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Spike growled, irritated at his own lack of control.

“No, it doesn’t, but at least you don’t believe it’s your right to do so. As for Angel, I have begun to notice that he believes himself to be above reproach and that anything he does is for the best of all, no matter what that might entail,” Wesley stated, growing more agitated at finally realizing what had been prickling in the back of his mind about his boss lately. Angel believed himself to be above everyone else and that being a champion meant that whatever he decided was sanctioned by the Powers.

“What an egotistical prick,” Wesley murmured, forgetting he was in another’s company with his new insight. Shaking his head disdainfully, he looked up to see a gob-smacked Spike with his jaw hanging open.

Suddenly the room was filled with hearty laughter as Spike doubled over, clutching his sides and howling with glee. “Too right!” he exclaimed, trying to wipe the tears of mirth from his eyes as he straightened, still snickering.

“Bloody hell, Wes, you tryin’ to make me bust a gut?” Spike sauntered over to grab the glass of scotch Wesley was holding out with a huge grin plastered on his face.

“Not really. I had a revelation of sorts and it just slipped out. Glad I could be so amusing,” Wesley stated sarcastically but with a smile, turning back to his desk to go through the articles in one of the plastic container as Spike went back to his chair.

“Wes, what you said before…you know; ‘bout Buffy’s diary? Do ya think she’d hate me if I just peeked at it a bit? I don’t want to know everythin’. Well, that’s not true. I’d do just ‘bout anythin’ to read it all, but what I really wanna know is what she thought of me there at the last,” Spike muttered. He sat with his head in his hands and eyes downcast, waiting for Wesley to tell him how evil he was.

“From what I heard Buffy say when they stopped here for the night after you closed the Hellmouth, she was proud of you. I could see that she cared deeply about you. If Angel would have been paying attention to her instead of strutting around like he’d been the one to save the world, he would have seen the tears in her eyes as she spoke of your final sacrifice.” Wes stared down into his box. “If I was in your situation, I don’t know if I could stop myself from looking at it either.”

“Thanks, mate,” Spike murmured, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

Partially scratched off silver writing caught Wesley’s eye, bringing him to what looked like the remains of a beat up photo album. The front cover was barely hanging on and he could tell even before opening it that most of the pages that would have held photos were missing. Someone was really going to enjoy getting at least a few pictures back, if they could find who they belonged to from their photos, that is.

Opening the ripped and dented front, he gazed down with awe. There in front of him, without one blemish, was a picture of the blonde slayer sitting on her front porch with her arms around her younger sister. Next to it was one of Joyce and Dawn hugging and smiling. It was amazing to see. Wes turned the pages, revealing that there were at least twenty different family photos left in perfect condition. Buffy is going to love these! he thought exultantly.

A derisive snort brought his attention back to the bleached vampire in the room. Looking at him closely for the first time he noticed the dejected slouch and sadness in Spike’s eyes. His decision made, the Englishman picked the photograph album up and took out the snapshot of Buffy and Dawn before taking them both over to Spike.

“You’ll never believe what I’ve found,” Wesley said, sitting in the chair next to Spike and placing the book in his hands.

Spike flipped to the first page and was struck with one of the most beautiful sights he’d seen in ages. His heart clenched, seeing the Summers women looking back at him with happy smiles. In one, Joyce smiled lovingly down at his niblet, who had her school work spread out before her. In another, the love of his un-life - who appeared to be about seventeen - sat on a swing surrounded by brilliant sunlight and laughing. So wrapped up in the images before him, Spike didn’t notice the moisture slipping from his lashes.

Wes watched as the vampire, whom his boss told them never to trust on many occasions, looked upon his supposed mortal enemy and her family with amazed reverence and love. The tears that wetted his cheeks gripped the ex-watcher’s heart and he knew he had to call Buffy and let her know Spike was alive. The bleached blonde sure wasn’t going to do it himself for fear of rejection. Yet another injustice that could be heaped at Angel’s door.

“Keep this one for yourself. No one else need know about it,” Wesley murmured, placing the picture of the Slayer and her sister in Spike’s hand before getting up and heading towards the door. He knew his continued presence would only embarrass the blonde. He would give him his privacy.

Exiting the room, he heard a barely perceptible whisper of thanks.

Chapter Three

They Meant Well

A/N Must give much love to Tam and Megan as always for the great beta job they do.

Excerpts from the journal of Buffy Summers

10/18/02
Hindsight is twenty/twenty. As I go back through my earlier entries, I’ve discovered some disturbing things about my friends. Some I blocked out, but most I completely ignored.

Willow is my best friend and always will be, but I won’t allow her to keep dictating my life like she is perfect and knows what is best anymore.

I should’ve seen the signs. The addiction to magic started long before any of us caught on. She was the brainiac who studied hard and knew all the answers, always so trustworthy and in control of herself, or so I thought. At first it was a new adventure. She was so shy and it helped to pull her outta her shell. She was so happy to be able to do something that would help me with fighting the baddies, but it quickly changed into something a lot more selfish.

When it began it was just little things. But then came the time when she decided she needed a de-lusting spell for her and Xander. They were the ones cheating! But oh no, instead of just saying ‘this is bad and we can’t do it anymore’, she decided that manipulating their feelings with magic was better. She didn’t even tell Xander the truth about what she wanted to do. Nope. Chemistry experiment, my butt! It doesn’t matter that they never got to finish it because Spike kidnapped them (which is a completely different story!) What mattered was that she wanted it fixed right then and took the easy way, and wasn’t the least bit rattled with having to lie to Xand in the process.

I’m sure none of us will ever forget her ‘thy will be done’ spell. The name says it all. She couldn’t deal with going through the pain of Oz leaving her like every other female on the planet does. No, she had to get all with the witchiness. Being engaged to Spike wasn’t that bad. For a few hours I was happier than any other time in my life. The look in his eyes said I was the only one for him and who could ever forget the, oh so yummy smoochies? Really mine was more of a vacation from the normal ‘stake up my ass self’ as Spike would say. Yeah, when it was over I acted more disgusted by it than I was, but what was a Slayer to do? The others, well, not so much with the fun having, especially Giles’s bumping into everything blindness and Xander’s demon magnetism. Anyway, after everything was sorted out, she baked us cookies. Yup. Like that would make everything allll better again. But I really can’t blame her for thinking it did. We’re the idiots who let her believe that big honkin’ lie.

How about the one that did the most damage to me? Ripped me right out of the only peace I’ve ever known and plopped me back down into this hell of a life. Just so they could all be happy again. I still don’t understand why she thought I’d go to hell. I’m the Chosen One, or did she just forget that fact? Maybe she didn’t care. At the least she could’ve researched or done some spell to find out for sure before making me claw my way out of my own grave. She could have at least spared me that.

The list of spells to make Willow’s life easy and happy could go on for days and most of the magic she used never had anything to do with helping to slay demons or stop an apocalypse. Willow didn’t get anyone hurt too badly in the beginning, so we looked the other way and pretended it was all of the good.

Then the lies started. Tara saw what was happening, but the rest of us stuck our heads in the sand like always, even when she tried to do a forgetting spell on the love of her life that once again backfired and left us all memoryless. It was a downward spiral from there.

Next, there was Rack and the sickening things she did for the high his spells gave her. She was so strung out on the power coursing through her she almost got Dawn killed. My sister, who I gave my life for, and Willow almost killed her with her addiction. After me with the big death and resurrection and not being able to feel at all for the sake of my sister, and she almost put her in the ground!

Still I tried to get past it and worked to get her off the magic, even though I was still drowning in my own misery. I think I let too much slip by me in my apathy.

Tara’s death and the dark magics that took her over was the third scariest time of my life. I really thought I was going to have to slay my best friend, but through it all there was still sweet, innocent Willow underneath who wanted to do what was right. The girl who was saved by her childhood friend and a yellow crayon.

There’s something really big and bad coming. I can feel it deep inside and the dreams – well - they scare the hell out of me. I know I’m going to need Willow in the fight that’s to come because of the nightmares I’ve been having, but how am I supposed to trust her? How am I going to get past my fear that she’ll do something worse and destroy me? The thought of her using her power twists my insides into knots.

Xander. Always wanting to be my protector, even though he didn’t have the strength in his whole body that I do in my pinky? I used to believe that I could take any and everything he said on faith, but not any longer.

I think having to stake Jesse that first year caused a lot of anger in Xander that has continued to grow and fester without me realizing it. But what does that say about me? That’s for later so let’s get on with the examination of this friendship.

He has always been against Spike being part of the group. Xander never missed a chance to say and do things to let Spike know he wasn’t welcome. Heck, we all did, but in Xand’s case, it was so much more hateful. He was constantly talking about how evil Spike was and how if the chip ever came out he’d rip all our throats out while we slept. The only problem with this is that Xander did a lot of things that we never once said ‘that’s wrong’ or called him evil for. Never did we punish him for the bad he did because he was human, had a soul and was our friend. Double standard much?

The first year I knew Xander was possessed by the spirit of a hyena. He was plain mean to everyone, especially Willow, and he would have eaten people if I hadn’t stopped him. The thing that I totally ignored and later blocked from my mind was his attempted rape. Remembering this brings back all the shuddery repulsive feelings I had at the time. He was my friend, but in his mind he actually had these kinds of fantasies about me. He was stronger than normal and if I hadn’t of knocked him on his ass he would’ve fulfilled his sick desires. Even now my stomach rolls at the thought. When it was happening I couldn’t believe the nasty things coming out of his mouth and though I never told him this, I know that after we stopped the possession, he still remembered everything. Of course he lied about that. He really didn’t want us to know that he remembered every cruel word or action.

I also did a little of my own research that night. Yeah, I know; me and research? Not so mix-y. But when one of your best friends tries to violate you, you kinda want to know if it was his own thoughts behind it or if it was all the entity inside him. He wasn’t in control of everything that happened, but it was driven by his own thoughts without the restraints he’d normally put on himself.

He had Amy do a spell for him to make Cordelia love him the next year. It blew up in his face of course, making the entire female population of Sunnydale except Cordy obsessed with him. That was just another type of violation. Rape of one’s control over self. Why did we keep letting this behavior go on? I don’t know the answer to that and I don’t think I ever will understand what went on in our minds back then.

He betrayed me later that year by withholding information that might have helped when I went in to fight Angelus and try to keep Acathla from sucking the world into Hell. Willow was trying the soul restoration from her hospital bed, and instead of telling me what Wills said, he told me she said to ‘kick his ass’. Why didn’t I think that was strange? She would never talk like that. It might not have changed the outcome. I may still have had to send Angel to some Hell dimension, but on the other hand, I might not have and I might not have been so damaged by the whole event.

He treats Anya— the woman he supposedly loved— badly as well. He has always been so condescending to her. Yes, she’s blunt and always speaks her mind, but she tries to be a good person after having spent eleven hundred years as a vengeance demon. She fights against evil and researches just like everyone else. Her stories can get really graphic and totally gross but that’s what she knew for over a thousand years. What else is she going to talk about? Belittling her and trying to make her feel like she’s less than the rest of us for her past is wrong and I should have stood up for her when they were still together.

And what were we all doing when Xand summoned the next twenty car pile up in our lives, Sweet? What, he couldn’t deal with his doubts about his upcoming marriage in some normal way? Really, how dumb do you have to be to call a singing and dancing demon? The worst part was he knew the whole time that people were dancing themselves to a flaming death and we were researching like crazy what was going on and he. Never. Said. A. Word. At least not until Spike stopped me from dancing to my third death and Sweet was ready to take my sister as his child bride. We don’t even know exactly how many people died that day and he never said ‘Oh my God! I killed someone with my selfishness!’ None of us did either. We swept it under the rug like we always had before. I’m supposed to protect the people and I turned my back on them because my friend was the cause of what happened.

I realize now that Xander has always thought that if he waited long enough, I would finally look at him and say ‘that’s the man for me’. No matter who I was with or what I was doing, he tried to tell me how wrong they were for me. Well, until he figured out I wasn’t really in love with Riley. I guess in his mind if I didn’t love Riley then that meant there was still a chance for him.

Xander holds so much hate inside him, more than I wanted to admit. It was wrong of me to let him take it out on Spike, and it was wrong of me to ignore the way he treated Anya. I can’t ignore it any more. To him, it didn’t matter that Spike saved his ass more times than we can count and it didn’t matter that Anya loved him with everything she was. All he saw was demon or ex-demon which made him feel superior. He loves to hold his imagined superiority over others heads, including my own.

Xander and Willow both judge every decision I make and have for so long that I honestly can’t remember when it started. They treat me like a child most of the time, but then look to me for guidance when it comes to slaying and world endage. Really, if I’m strong enough and good enough to fight the darkness of this world, why can’t I decide who’s right or wrong for me? Why do I let them tell me who is and who isn’t? They think they know what kind of job I should do, how I should run the house and who I should be friends with.

Spike always said I had a dangerous blind spot when it came to my friends, he was right. I never noticed the good he himself tried to do, but I saw all of his faults like they were plastered on a billboard.

We have all done bad or selfish things. Not one of us is perfect and although I have finally opened my eyes to these flaws and the pain that comes with them, I’m not ready to give up on our friendships just yet.

I love them both and always will, but I have to take control over my own life and actions.

@~@~@~

There was one repeating thought in Angel’s mind. What had gone on in Sunnydale since he’d left? Maybe he didn’t know at all these people whom he’d once thought he knew quite well.

How could the people who were supposed to be her closest friends and love her treat her this way? He was enraged that they would try to dictate the Chosen One’s life to her. A phone call to tell her she needed to drop her friends and get new ones was definitely in order as soon as he finished her journal.

What if she’d been making really bad decisions though? They had lived separate lives for such a long time. If she was, then as her friends they should tell her what she was doing wrong and try to stop her from possibly hurting herself or others in the process. There was the part about Willow’s spell and the engagement to Spike being the happiest time of her life. Hell, later on she’d slept with Spike, of all people, and that screamed of horrible decision making right there! Though he supposed that could be chalked up to being taken out of heaven and being confused.

No, rather than calling her, he’d call her Watcher and find out just how much of this journal was an exaggeration. He would know if she understood what was right or wrong at this point in her life before jumping the gun and telling her to get rid of her friends.

After pacing his office for a moment and pouring another scotch, he delved back into her words. Maybe the answers to his questions were in later entries, he thought hopefully.

@~@~@~

A/N I am so sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter posted. I was so busy for the first couple of weeks I kept putting it off and then when I went back and tried to start this chapter I was completely blocked up on it. I want to say thank you to all of you who have given me such wonderful reviews and comments. You have no idea how truly wonderful they are and how much it brightens my days. There will be more journal entries in the next chp.
Also thank you very much Tam and Megan for continuing to encourage me and the wonderful beta work you do. *hugs*

Chapter Four

Conversations

Wesley sighed in relief upon finding the phone number he needed for the Slayer in his electronic address book. He was once again grateful that the battle weary Scoobies had stopped in LA for a few nights after defeating the First, and that Giles was still prepared for anything. The old Watcher had decided it a necessity for each of Angel’s people to know how to get in touch with any of the former residents of Sunnydale, and had called to give them all the new cell phone numbers as soon as they had them.

He shuddered to think of what might have happened if he’d had to ask Angel for it. There would be too many hard questions to answer, and avoiding suspicion until he was able to let Buffy know that Spike was alive and what Angel was up to was his top priority.

Deciding it would be for the best to make his call from outside Wolfram and Hart, he found Harmony and told her that he was going out for lunch. Angel wouldn’t find it unusual, and this way he could be positive that no one would be listening in on his call. He wouldn’t put it past the senior partners to have the entire LA crew under a magnifying glass while they were in the building. It was even possible that they were under surveillance twenty four hours a day.

Once he was sure nothing looked out of the ordinary, Wesley poked his head into his office to tell Spike that he’d be back in about an hour and asked him if there was anything he might want from the coffee shop near by. Certain that everything was in order, the ex-watcher slipped into the elevator. All the way down, he practiced what he planned to say to Buffy, struggling to find the perfect words.

Stepping through the door of the Java Hut, Wesley placed his order and then found a secluded table in the corner. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried desperately to calm his nerves. The fear he felt at meeting his first Slayer years before seemed to well up from nowhere, even though he was no longer the sniveling little council puppet who’d tried to force a smart, brave young girl to conform to what he was taught she should be. In a burst of clarity, he knew there would be more discussed than Spike, Angel, and the journal. He had some apologizing of his own to do, never having told her how sorry he was for being a weak ponce that believed every falsehood his father and the council had taught him.

Wesley reached into his pocket and grasped his cell phone with a sweaty, trembling hand, praying to the Higher Powers that he wouldn’t crack under the sudden stifling heat before he told the young blonde everything she needed to know. He didn’t know how Buffy could still turn him into the scared young man he used to be. It wasn’t like he’d ever harbored any feelings for her other than contempt as her watcher and then understanding as he began to find his own way in the world, but he had to admit she intimidated him. Telling her that the vampire she’d considered her soul mate wasn’t as perfect as she thought he was, and that the other vampire whom she’d had a relationship with and believed dead was back from the dust was something that might have her ready to kill the messenger.

Slowly, he dialed the number as droplets of sweat began to form on his upper lip. He’d mentally tallied the time difference and knew it to only be around nine pm for her, but that didn’t mean she’d be in any kind of position to talk. She might be patrolling at that moment. Oh well, time to dive in. This was far more frightening than he’d first thought it would be. With the first ring he was tempted to hit end and cancel the call all together, but then Spike’s awe-filled face and the pompous actions of Angel filled his mind and he knew this conversation with the Slayer was a must. The little noise indicating someone had answered the line had Wesley cringing with doubt as he listened.

“Giles, I told you- I’m on it! Kill the immortal. Got the message the last three times. Now, let me do my work,” Buffy screeched into her cell, not looking to see who was calling since Giles had already phoned so many times in the last hour.

“Um yes…well, Miss Summers, this is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Do you have the time to speak with me? If you’re otherwise engaged I could always phone again later?” Wes spluttered, a little hopeful that their conversation might be put on hold until a more opportune time for the Slayer.

“Oh, hey Wes. Sorry for the rudeness, but Giles is trying to drive me crazy today for some reason. I have plenty of time, so talk away. What’s up? Is this like apocalypse type stuff?” Buffy rambled, a little stunned to be hearing from one of the LA crew.

“No, nothing of that magnitude, Miss Summers. It is important, but more of a personal nature. However, there are parts of it that I’m sure you will find unsettling,” Wesley replied as he tried to decide what to tell her first.

“Okay, this doesn’t sound like it’s gonna be a party, but go ahead and spill. And call me Buffy, I’m not some little old lady, you know,” Buffy teased even as her stomach began to knot. Wesley never called her. Well, not since he’d been her watcher, and for it to be something personal it had to be about Angel. Maybe he’d gone off the soul wagon again.

“Angel, with the resources of Wolfram and Hart, started an excavation of the Sunnydale crater. We thought it would be a good idea to make sure the Hellmouth was sealed, and if we found any items that people might want, we could try and return those things,” Wes said gaining confidence as he spoke, knowing this was in fact the right thing to do.

“We have uncovered many boxes full of assorted items and have been going through each one to see if any were of a mystical nature before turning them over to other people in the firm to find their owners. You see, Buffy, while I was looking in one of the plastic containers, I found a journal that belonged to you. I only read the first two pages thinking it might be one of your Slayer related accounts, but as soon as I found that it was your private writings, I closed it and took it directly to Angel for safe keeping.” Wesley’s voice faltered for just a moment before he cleared his throat, trying to muster the courage to tell her what Angel had been up to.

“You’re kidding! You really found something of mine? I can’t wait to see it. Please, send it to me right away. Oh wait, you don’t have my address.” Buffy excitedly bounced around her living room. This was great news. Why had Wes been so nervous when she first answered the phone and what bad could come from something like this?

“Miss…I mean, Buffy, that’s not all I have to tell you,” Wesley interrupted. “You see, upon giving Angel your journal, which, if I may say, seemed to be your writings during the last year you lived in Sunnydale, he took it upon himself to read it even after I told him it had nothing to do with slaying. He seemed to think it was his right to delve into your personal life, and although I suggested we call you and tell you we found it, he dismissed me.”

“WHAT?” Buffy yelled. How could he do that to her? How could the man she thought so highly of treat her with such disrespect? “How long has he had it, Wes? You should have called me immediately,” she insisted.

“He has only had it for a couple of hours, I assure you, and I did call you as soon as I could get out of the building without raising suspicions. I’m truly sorry to be the one telling you all of this, but I believe Angel’s ego has taken control of his better judgment. I have noticed many things about Angel lately that I find very disturbing. I think his notion that he is the Power’s champion has given him the idea that he is all knowing and everything he does is sanctioned by them. He has no idea that I have gone behind his back to call you and I fear it would incur his wrath if he finds out. You must understand, Buffy, he was my greatest friend at one time, and I always thought he would do what was right no matter the circumstances, but as of late his actions have proven me wrong,” Wesley sighed regretfully.

“I’m sorry, Wes. I didn’t mean to get all growly and demanding with you. I know how close the LA team is to each other, and for you to be calling me to tell me this…well, I really appreciate it. Don’t say a word to anyone else, but I’ll be coming there to get my property in the next day or so. I really don’t care if Angel reads the whole damn thing, but he won’t like what he finds, especially when he gets to the parts about him.” Buffy made no attempt to hide the smugness in her voice.

“If that’s everything you needed to say, then I better run and get everything in order. I’ll call you back as soon as I know when I’ll be landing in LA,” Buffy said as she thought about how fun it was going to be to kick Angel’s nosy ass.

“Buffy, wait. I’m not finished yet,” Wes shouted, afraid she’d disconnect before he could tell her about Spike. If she showed up without him informing her of that little tidbit, she’d kill him.

“There’s more? Has he done something worse, Wes?” Buffy demanded. Once again her stomach began rolling with fear of what he might say.

“This is only remotely related to Angel. I think you should sit down if you’re not already. What I have to say will come as a shock and I don’t want you passing out,” Wes replied.

“Oh, God. I thought you said it wasn’t the end of the world kinda stuff earlier,” Buffy sighed dejectedly, throwing herself down on her couch and hoping she wasn’t going to have to sacrifice anyone else for an apocalypse. She was still grieving for Anya and Spike. One more loss and she wasn’t sure she could live. As it was now, just breathing was excruciating without Spike by her side.

“No, no, really, it’s nothing like that. In fact, I’m hoping this will be happy news for you, but please let me explain before interrupting. I need to tell you the whole story and some of it won’t be easy for me,” Wes told her as he prepared himself. He was going to tell her everything, including how he himself had treated the blonde vampire before seeing who he really was.

“I’ll try. Can’t make any promises, though,” Buffy warned.

“A few months after the destruction of the Hellmouth, Angel received a large envelope. Inside was the amulet that Spike had worn to stop The First. Angel dropped it to the floor, and you can imagine our amazement when a swirling vortex burst from it. Within seconds a screaming Spike had formed in front of us.”

“Wait! You said Spike? What do you mean…Spike?” Buffy stammered. This was some kind of cruel joke. Wes must want to die. If Spike was alive, she’d know. She’d feel it and he would have let her know.

“Yes, Buffy, I said Spike, and please, no more interruptions. I told you it would be a shock and I’m sure parts of this will be difficult for you to grasp, but I am telling you the truth. He wasn’t whole at first, you see. He was completely non-corporeal- some sort of apparition. He knew everything that had happened up until the point of his death, but he couldn’t touch or move anything. In fact, the amulet had him tied to Wolfram and Hart itself. If he tried to leave, he would get pulled right back. I can assure you his first thoughts were of all of you. He wanted to know everyone was okay. In fact, the first thing he wanted to do was find you, but the amulet wouldn’t allow it and Angel certainly wouldn’t tell him very much. Spike has been our ghostly annoyance for a little while now. I have to admit I wasn’t very welcoming. Angel kept warning all of us to not trust him, that no matter what his actions had been in closing the Hellmouth, it was undoubtedly for selfish reasons and he probably didn’t know it would end in his death.”

Wes sighed, his voice heavy with guilt as he continued. “I didn’t bother getting to know Spike and was as rude as most everyone else, with the exception of Fred. She’s a sweet girl and sees good in everyone, so she believed Spike was worthy of saving. Fred found a way to make him corporeal again, but we were attacked by an evil spirit and instead Spike used the machine to save her instead of himself, even though he knew there was only one chance. I should have seen then what type of person…or, well…vampire he was, but I continued to let Angel influence me. Fortunately, a package came for Spike yesterday and when it was opened, we were shocked to find him suddenly corporeal.”
The line was silent, but Wesley was positive that Buffy was still there.

“The reason I want you to know all of this, is because I’m afraid Angel has convinced Spike that you never really cared for him and that he should leave you to have a normal life. I believe that Spike is now afraid to contact you. He wants you happy above all else, and with Angel constantly spouting this type of garbage, I believe he has come to think that knowing he is alive would only make you miserable,” Wesley stated. He wanted to give Buffy a chance to take in what he’d said so far before telling her of the time he’d spent with Spike in his office.

Buffy’s breathing was erratic and her heart pounded against her chest. Spike was alive. Spike was alive and un-ghostly. She was ecstatic until she realized exactly what Wes was telling her. Spike was afraid she wouldn’t want him. How could the idiot think that? Damn it, she’d told him she loved him, but like everything else in her life, she’d left it too late and he really didn’t believe her.

The nerve of Angel presuming to know what she felt! He was really gonna get it when she got there. Nope, there was no time for all the responsible adult stuff. She’d just make Dawn pack and get the next flight out. She had one dark broody vampire’s butt to kick and another’s to slap for being stupid and then kiss until he believed her.

“Thank you for telling me all this. Can I ask what changed your mind about Spike?” Buffy breathed out shakily.

“I think I knew in the back of my mind that most of the things Angel said about Spike were heavily biased. Spike was in Angel’s office when I took him your journal. I didn’t pay any attention to him at the time, but after the things Angel said, I decided I needed to get to know Spike for myself and went looking for him. He was in Fred’s lab chatting.

“I made up a reason for us to spend time together by asking him to help me search through more of the items from Sunnydale that were in my office. We talked and he asked me a few things, knowing I had read the first pages of you journal. He wanted so badly to know if you really ‘saw him’ there at the last, and asked me if I thought you’d hate him if he read only the parts of your journal that had to do with him. I saw how he expected me to react in his eyes; he was positive that I would condemn him for even thinking about it. Buffy, I have to tell you; this man truly loves you and if you feel nothing for him, I think it would be best if you stayed away. But if you do care, then he needs to know.” Wes didn’t bother to hide his protective attitude towards the vampire and his voice was quite harsh.

“Spike and I found a photo album. Not all the pictures are there, and it is not in the best of shape, but it is yours as well. There are photos of your mother, Dawn, and yourself in it. I gave one of you and Dawn to Spike. He had tears running down his face when I left him,” Wesley told her solemnly.

“Wes, I do care for him very much. I can’t believe he let Angel convince him I wouldn’t want to know he is alive. Thank you again for telling me all of this. I’m glad Spike found a friend and that you care enough to ask me to not hurt him. I can faithfully promise you that I won’t. I have to go now. I want to be on the next flight out. I’ll call you back when I know what time we’ll get there,” Buffy sniffled. Spike still loved her. She was going to get him back and make up for everything that had made him believe she couldn’t love him. This was a gift and she sure as hell wasn’t going to give it up.

“Goodbye, Buffy, and I hope you have a safe flight,” Wesley said and then disconnected with a smile. At least one man was going to have his dreams come true. Maybe he should tell Fred how he really felt? At least then he’d know for sure.

With a spring in his step, Wesley happily made his way back to the evil law firm. He was positive all hell was going to break loose as soon as the blonde spitfire of a Slayer landed, and after witnessing Spike’s pain, he could only hope Angel’s would be as severe.

Chapter Five

He Who Knows Best

A/N Sorry this took so long but my betas had RL things to deal with and I wasn’t about to rush perfection. Thanks to all my reviewers who have stuck with me even though I seem to have dropped to more of a twice a month update instead of every week.

As always I bow to the power of my fantabulous betas, Spikeslovebite and Megan! *kisses and tightly squeezes you both*

He Who Knows Best


Excerpts from the journal of Buffy Summers

12/18/02

Yeah, I know I’ve been lazy Buffy lately when it comes to writing, but I have plenty of good excuses. First there was Spike being all crazy in the school basement and almost having to kill Anya. Then more Spike killing with the crazy and a trigger implanted by The First. Now I have Giles showing up at my door yesterday with a bunch of slayer wanna-be’s. But none of that fits in here. It all goes in my other journal about slayer type stuff. As I said before; this one is for me, to help me confront everything instead of hiding from it.

I guess I’ll start with Giles, since he’s on my mind right now, anyway.

We got off to a rocky start; my Watcher and I; what with me being in denial of my destiny and him being big with the Council etiquette. Eventually, things smoothed out between us and I came to think of him as the father that my own couldn’t seem to be. At first, things were great. Giles not only trained me but talked to me and listened to me, even when it had nothing to do with the Chosen One crap. He was always there for me, but as the years passed, he did things that cut as deep-- and in some cases deeper-- than anything my friends did. I let a lot of things slide, because I knew he felt he was doing it for my own good. That is where one of my biggest flaws lay. I allow others to dictate my life and I fear that if I don’t smile and be who they want me to be they’ll leave and I can’t stand it when they do.

He never really trusted my instincts. Yeah, I needed guidance and stuff, but I also needed confidence; something that he undermined every time he didn’t think I was making the right decision. After Angel went all Angelus on us, he demanded I do my duty and just go out and stake him. I was just a teenager for cripes sake. How could he expect me to be able to do that right away? It would have been better for Ms. Calendar and Willow’s fish, but I couldn’t give myself to the man…um…vampire I loved one day, and then dust him the next. I needed time, and Giles shoving my duty in my face didn’t help me one bit. It only made me more upset and determined to find a way to save Angel.

That’s why I ran off after sending Angel to hell; there was no one I thought I could trust. Not my mother, not my friends, and certainly not Giles. The only person I’d even come close to trusting was an evil bloodsucker with an insane ho of a girlfriend, but at least I knew what his motivations were.

Then came Angel’s miraculous return. When Giles found out I was hiding him, he looked at me with so much disappointment in his eyes. Why couldn’t he understand the anguish I’d felt having to send my newly re-ensoulled boyfriend into that gaping vortex to hell? Why couldn’t he see that I needed his support and not his anger? I needed him to help me help Angel. I needed the smothering guilt I had lived with for so long to be lessened, not compounded.

If there’s anything being the Slayer has taught me, it’s that there is always a reason behind everything that happens. Him being plopped back into this world with his soul meant there was something he was supposed to do. I thought the others had figured that out, especially Giles with his staunch attitude on duty, rituals, and ‘all things have meaning’ drills that he tried to hammer into my head for so long.

None of those things ever made me feel like I meant less to him, though. That didn’t happen until my eighteenth birthday. The Cruciamentum. Let’s strip me of all my slayery skills and then tell me I’m just sick or that you’ll find what’s causing it. I’m just a little bitter, really.

It made me feel like the Council of Wankers, to quote Spike, was more important than my life. I was his slayer and he’d talked like I was all important to him for so long and then threw me to that pack of wolves. Well, it was just a little more than this girl could take.

I think for a long time, I believed my life meant nothing to anyone after that. It took me a while to get past it even though I tried not to show how badly it really affected me. I never really got over it. He may have been fired for showing a ‘father’s love’, but all I could see from this betrayal was that I was only needed as long as I was killing things. What about the teenager who was just as much a part of me as the slayer was?

After graduation and the big snake that wasn’t the Mayor’s ascension, Angel left. I’m not going there tonight. That event in my life deserves an entry all on its own. Giles was pretty pleased about it, though.

That fall, I enrolled in college. I felt completely out of place and was desperate to fit in. When I tried to confide in him, he thought I was just being Bitchy-Buffy about the demon I shared a dorm room with. I was struggling with this new part of my life and all he could think about was his own midlife crisis and how he felt unneeded.

We made it through that year, despite the big yearly apocalypse came in the form of Adam. We were all split so far apart and un-trusty that Spike was able to make us think the worst of each other for a short period of time. That should have been a clue. I should’ve started trying then to work on myself and my relationships with others, but like always I buried my head in the sand like…well…like something that buries it’s head in the sand.

With the next year came a mystical little sister, a hell god, and my mother getting sick. I was breaking under the pressure, but Giles seemed oblivious. He kept right on pushing and pushing as I struggled to do my job and take care of my sister and mom. On top of everything else, I had a clingy boyfriend who felt I should spend every waking moment telling him how great he was and how much I needed him. For some reason he couldn’t see past his own nose and let me be myself, so of course that ended badly.

Then the worst happened. Just when I thought everything was okay with her, she was taken. She was my strength; the reason I kept fighting. I never really got a chance to mourn her. I was supposed to raise Dawn, kill a hell god, and still keep everything together with a smile.

Mom was barely in her grave when the hell god stepped up her efforts to find her ‘key’. Dawn. Giles found out that it was Dawn’s blood that would open the portal for Glory, and it was her blood that would close it. I was stunned when Giles coolly informed me that in order to save the world, I would have to kill my baby sister. He fully expected me to kill Dawnie. Someone I loved dearly. The only family I had left. I had just buried my mother; did he really think I could survive doing something like that?

How could someone who supposedly knew me and knew how much pain I’d already endured, ask me to kill my flesh and blood? And she was my flesh and blood, made from me. For a long time after the monk told me how Dawn came into being, I wondered if that meant she was really my daughter and not my mother’s.

It wasn’t like she was some unfeeling, inanimate object. She wasn’t a pet rock. She was a little girl who lived, breathed, and loved. Even though all the memories were implanted, I knew she loved me. She loved all of us, even Giles, the man who would have seen her dead without batting an eye.

The only person who seemed to be as worried about Dawn besides me, was Spike. He promised to protect her ‘til the end of the world, even if that’s tonight’- and he did. She didn’t die that night. I did. I jumped off that tower because her blood was my blood and that meant I could take her place. I was tired and ready for it to end. I don’t think anyone around me realized how ready I was, except maybe Spike. It gave me the easy out. Everyone would see it as dying for my calling, doing my duty to save the world. Making the ultimate sacrifice. I was done.

But of course they couldn’t leave well enough alone.

A few months later, I was pulled out of paradise and thrust back into a world that was too loud, too bright, and too harsh after the soft peace I’d floated in for what seemed like an eternity to me. I clawed my way through a coffin and six feet of damp earth just to be able to breath in air that stung worse than not being able to get any oxygen at all. It was more than anyone, even a supernatural slayer, should be expected to handle.

Everyone around me wanted happy, smiling Buffy. They wanted thanks and praise for what they’d done. How was I, the one who’d protected them from their worst nightmares, supposed to tell them they’d ripped me from heaven? The only one I told was
Spike, because he didn’t seem to want anything from me at all.

I found out that Giles had run off to England right after I was buried, leaving my teenage sister- who I’d died to protect- with my friends. All who were too busy to really take care of her themselves, and Spike. He, at least, made sure she was taken care of and grieved with her. The others shut down, thinking the more they ignored her the more they didn’t have to think about my sacrifice. Giles had always said I was the most important person in his life, but how am I supposed to believe that when he left the person who was most important to me, the child I gave my life to protect, to fend for herself?

Of course he came back when he found out I was resurrected, and yes, he was majorly pissed at Willow for what they had done, but his concern didn’t last very long. He refused to see that I was falling apart, that I couldn’t cope with it all. I mean really; I don’t know anyone who could have managed to survive what I have. I’m almost positive anyone else in my situation would have probably slit their wrists trying to stop the anguish. God knows; I almost did.

Several times.

Instead, I was told that I needed to jump back on the wagon and go on as if nothing happened. I was supposed to find a job with no college education that would take care of me and Dawn and still make time to patrol and be the good little Slayer they all wanted me to be; bouncy, happy, and smiling all the time.

Giles watched as I sank deeper and deeper into despair, but he decided his best course of action was to leave. To go back to England so I would grow up and become more responsible. I wasn’t responsible enough already? I wasn’t doing what they all wanted? Was it too much for any of them, especially him, to see that they were slowly killing me by forcing me to take care of everything on my own after just being brought back to life?

He left. He left me to do it alone. He left because he couldn’t stand watching the train wreck that my life had become. No matter what he said, he left because he couldn’t deal, period.

Now he’s back with a smile, trying to pretend he didn’t run away like a coward. That he didn’t leave the person he was supposed to support and protect to deal on her own. He’s the one who has his head buried in the sand this time.

I have to find it in myself to forgive him. Seriously, I love the man more than he will ever know, so I’m sure it’ll come, in time.

@~@~@~

Angel sighed heavily. His one regret was not trying hard enough to convince her of how important her calling was. Maybe if he had, she would have been responsible and obedient to Giles’ advice. After all it was his job to put her safety and that of the world above all others.

Rupert was to blame also, for being too lenient and treating her as a daughter instead of the supernatural being she was. Catering to the whims of an immature teenager wasn’t the way to go. He’d once hoped his example of allowing her to fight alone would’ve improved her watcher’s teaching methods.

He should have been more firm with her instead of allowing her to make her own decisions. Decisions that put the lives of her friends and watcher in danger. She was born for a higher purpose and should never have been taught to rely on others. If she would’ve had the solitary life the council had instilled in other slayers, she wouldn’t have had a reason for this journal.

Angel decided it might be a good idea to make plans for a trip to Rome in a couple of weeks. He could use bringing her the journal as an excuse to intervene and help her see the error of her ways.

A/N Finally the next chapter. Sorry it took so very, very long to update, but first RL as always was getting in the way, then I tried to slice my thumb in half all the way to the bone and had to have four stitches, which made for no typing skills and lots of pain, and last during the thumb healing I had the worst allergy attack ever that covered me in hives from head to toe and left my face swollen up. YEAH IT’S BEEN A BAD MONTH. LOL The journal entry this time will be in italics so that I can have Angel’s reaction to what he is reading throughout it. Word count 4322.

I love my betas! I wish you all could know how wonderful they truly are.

Excerpts from the journal of Buffy Summers

1/07/03

I’ve been sitting here wide awake for the past hour, unable to sleep after the thrill of kicking ancient vamp butt and getting Spike back. I’m filled with relief and for the first time since he was taken, I can breathe. Knowing I’ll see that infuriating smirk and have to listen to his annoyingly perceptive insights is comforting in a strange sorta way.

For days I was scared I wouldn’t be able to defeat the ubervamp and get him back. Really, after that smack down, I should be sleeping like the dead, but here I sit thinking of the differences between the two men who have influenced my life so much.

The relief I felt finding Spike un-dusty made me realize I’d had the same exact reaction when I knew Angel had survived being poisoned. These thoughts started a chain reaction and here I sit writing about my first love.

I guess I’ll start with the fairytale romance of a teenage girl. I think every one of us believes the first time we feel love that it’ll be forever, and that our future only holds happiness in his arms. When we’re young and dumb with no experience or wisdom to work with, we tend to have a huge blind spot when it comes to men. Doesn’t matter if they’re human, vampire, or whatever. I have to admit that for me, the blind spot turned into denial.

Angel was my dark, mysterious knight when he first carved out a place in my heart soon after I moved to Sunnydale. Giving me that cross the first time I met him and being all secretive. Yeah, that got the girlie hormones revving right from the start. Popping up to warn me of looming evil worked in his favor for a while, and by the time I found out what he was, I was totally drowning in first love giddiness.

Looking back on everything and reading my old diaries, I’ve come to realize a few things; one of those being the fact that I was a complete idiot when I was younger. If it was me watching Dawn go through this type of relationship, I would have dusted the vamp at the beginning. Hell, even if he was a human, I’d have kicked his ass and made sure he thought twice about coming around again.

The first few times I met Angel should’ve clued me into the fact that he wasn’t Joe Normal. For starters, he gave me the heads up about the Harvest in a very obscure way. When he showed up at the crypt where I was trying to find Jesse, he told me he couldn’t go down there because he was scared. I thought he was human at the time, so I shrugged it off thinking it was way better for him to stay behind. I mean, he was only human, right? Um, that would be a ‘no’. He could have probably done just as much- if not more- damage to his ‘family’ than I could have.

Seriously, what kind of human male knows the things he did? The clues were there smacking me in the face all the time, I just ignored them.

I cut him a lot of slack in the beginning because I didn’t know what he was. I might not have known he was a powerful vampire at the time, but he could have let me in on that little secret and actually watched my back instead of letting me wander around in those dank tunnels alone. Oh, but wait, I wasn’t alone. Xander followed me down there to save his best friend. A young boy with no supernatural ability had enough balls to follow me to find his friend, but a master vamp who was all with the knowledge about this particular group of nasties, stayed behind. He was sent by the Powers That Be to help me, for pete’s sake! I guess his idea of helping was vague, mumble-y warnings.

What teenaged girl can resist the mysterious older man? Not me, that’s for sure. Finding out he was a vampire didn’t deter me one bit. I still thought about him constantly. I spent half my day dreaming about the hottie who wanted to help. In my mind, he was everything I wanted, even though I had no clue what or who he really was. I mean, seriously, the guy never told me anything about himself. He just gave me cryptic warnings of impending doom and looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

In spite of his tendency to show up out of nowhere and inform me that there was big evil brewing, when it came down to actually fighting said evil, it was done by me, my watcher, and a couple of high school kids. There was no romance-novel-hero-swooping-in-at-the-last-moment to save the day from my mystery man.

Why was I so hung up on him again?

Duh, I was a love struck girl who wanted nothing more than to have said guy look my way or tell me I was pretty, maybe even kiss me. All he wanted to talk about was ‘work’ and why I wasn’t out there doing what I needed to.

Angel’s eyebrows shot up, becoming one with his perfectly gelled hair. His mouth gaped open in disbelief. Buffy was the Slayer. Fighting was what she was supposed to do. How could she make it sound as if he’d done nothing? As far as he was concerned, he’d done far more than he should’ve had to. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t understand everything he tried to teach her.

Delving into my past puts everything into a new perspective. I was sixteen and certain that because of my calling, I wouldn’t live long at all and he was a two hundred year old vampire with the inside scoop. He knew enough to keep Giles and I informed, but not once did he try to stop anything on his own. Not once did he take it upon himself to help me in any way other than giving me fuzzy, unspecific lines about what was coming.

Finding out the guy you have a major crush on is one of the things you’re supposed to destroy can be a little devastating. I finally got that kiss I wanted so badly, but he vamped out during the middle of it and then growled at me, looking as if he wanted to eat me - and not in a fun way - before leaping out of my bedroom window.

To this day, I can’t figure out what the fangy growliness was all about. Sometimes I think it was a warning from the Powers about his curse, giving me a glimpse of what lay under the surface.

Even with the soul he still had to fight his demon for control at the smell of blood, and after having the soul for almost a hundred years by the time I met him, he should’ve had more of a hold on it. Spike sans soul seems to have more control over his baser urges than Angel ever has.

However, Angel does deserve enormous credit for dusting his slut ball of a sire to save me. I know that for vampires, losing your creator is painful, even if they are the vilest creature on the face of the earth. There is a bond between them and he went against that connection because he knew it was the right thing to do.

I’m truly grateful for any help he gave me through the years, but it was always so little for someone who was supposed to be the love of my life. My friends, who I might add are human and much more vulnerable when it comes to slaying than he, were there for everything. They took on day to day slaying with me and didn’t miss an apocalypse. I know Angel has done more for the LA crew than he ever did for any of the Scoobies, myself included. And he expects me to believe I’m his soul mate?

What about the prophecy of my death at the Master’s fangs? Did he try to come up with a way to stop it? Did he take down the Master before it was time for me to die? Did he go down there with me to try and help? The answer to all of those things is a BIG NO! In fact, he just shrugged it off as my destiny, my duty, and did nothing but brood. I had to knock Giles out to keep him from trying to go in my place, but my boyfriend was already mourning my death.

The only reason Angel was there in the first place was because Xander showed up at his apartment, shoving a cross in his face and demanding to be taken down into the Master’s lair. Oh, and what the hell is up with telling Xand to do CPR cause he didn’t have breath? He had to breathe to be able to talk. A necessity to stay undead and kicking? No, but he could still do it. If it was left to just him I’d have stayed dead that first time and the Hellmouth would have been opened. Some protector the Powers That Be picked out for me.

Slamming the leather bound book down on his desk, Angel leapt to his feet and snarled with rage. She had one thing right. He was picked by the Powers to guide and protect her. That should have made her realize his importance, made her see that everything he’d ever done for her was for the best. Instead, she was blaming him for her problems.

Sure, he could’ve probably handled things with the Master a little differently. He even felt a little remorse looking at her writing, but she should see he was doing his best under difficult circumstances.

Angel stomped his way over to the wet bar. Pouring his glass full, he quickly downed the scotch. After forcing himself to take some deep, cleansing breaths, he refilled his glass and returned to his seat. Why did she have to make him feel like this? Still, he persevered, knowing that the more he read, the easier it would be for him to get Giles and possibly the others on his side before intervening and showing Buffy the error of her ways. He sighed heavily and picked up where he'd left off.

After I came home from my summer spent at my dad’s, the first thing Angel did was come to my window to tell me that the Anointed One was gathering troops. Really, couldn’t he have at least told me how much he missed me, or maybe asked what I’d done all summer? I was one screwed up puppy from my first death and resurrection, full of anger and afraid the next big bad would be too powerful and I’d end up dead, again, but what’s the first thing to greet me outta my guy’s mouth? Big brewing evil a comin’, of course.

At that moment I felt so alone. I needed him to be there for me, to see me, to see the pain, fear, and anger that was pulling me closer to a breakdown. I just needed him to hold me.

Then Spike, the sleek blonde stud with a slayer killing obsession popped up out of nowhere. Angel knew everything about him and his insane ho of a girlfriend, and could’ve spilled all about them. Did that mean he was going to give me the 411 on my latest opponent, though? Of course not. It just meant he knew more than I did, which seemed to make Angel feel ‘all manly,’ to quote Spike.

After Spike came on the scene, things between Angel and I escalated. Hell, my hormones were practically screaming for me to throw him on the ground and give them satisfaction. Stupid hormones. Another one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ scenarios.

My seventeenth birthday arrived and I had Drusilla and Spike trying to put together the gigantic blue jigsaw puzzle to wipe out humanity. It was just another Buffy birthday with the fighting of badness. Then I had to go and get groiny with the great love of my life, or at least who I thought was my forever guy. Most girls worry about things like: will he still want me tomorrow, pregnancy, or disease. I thought I had all those bases covered. One—he’s dead so no disease or preggers possible, and two, of course he’ll want me tomorrow. He’s been here for over a year, why wouldn’t he want me, right?

Schyeah, like fluffy, happy rainbow moments are gonna happen. Instead, it was the worst morning after in recorded history and it only went downhill from there. I’d happied the soul right out of him. He’d been cursed about a hundred years before, but never thought to even research the soul at all. How many people…er…vampires would have something like that happen to them and never try to find out anything about it?

I held a lot of guilt for a long time with that one. I blamed myself for everything he did as Angelus, although he was the one who’d been cursed in the first place. I took whatever he did to those around me and turned it into one more thing to have on my conscience.

Angel killed Miss Calendar and who knows how many others as he plotted to suck the world into hell. And let's not forget Willow's fish. God knows she never did. I let all these things slowly eat away at me and build more and more walls of icy guilt around my heart, all the while hoping to get him back. Praying for some small miracle. Hoping that his soul would suddenly rush into him and give me my boyfriend back. It didn’t happen and I had to send him to Hell on the point of my sword.

I've always struggled with feeling responsible for whatever happens to those around me, even if it was their own choices that caused something bad to happen. It doesn’t matter if they are hurt fighting or if it’s just the fear that I’ll do something wrong and cause them to be upset. It’s also one of the reasons I never allowed myself to truly see Spike, instead just labeling him a vampire, and it all started with giving Angel my virginity.

After sending Angel to Hell, I came to the decision that caring for others meant total annihilation of self. I hated myself so completely. I didn’t want to live any longer, but was too afraid to kill myself. Yeah, I thought of suicide while I was all alone on the streets of LA, but I was too much of a wuss to actually do it.

I finally battled my way back to sanity and went home, hoping my mom, watcher, and friends would allow me back into their lives. While being on my own, I’d found out that I did need them. No matter what that stupid slayer handbook said, there was no way I could shut them out completely. They had already made a home for themselves inside of me. Still, I was no longer able to share freely with them and believe they would always support me. I felt if I wasn’t perfect, didn’t do exactly what they all wanted, that I’d be left alone. And who wants to be alone?

I’d just got my life back on track when - out of the blue - Angel literally dropped from the sky. Feral, but still recognizing me on a basic level. I wanted so much to make him better and have that perfect love back that I’d convinced myself we’d had. I nursed him and took care of him, lying to everyone because I knew they didn’t like him or trust him. Not one bit. Not that they didn’t have good reason.

I pretended that everything was normal, convincing myself that we could still be together—that the curse didn’t matter. We may not have been able to have complete happiness, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t still be in love. Or at least, it shouldn’t have.

I feel like such an idiot now. Where in the hell did I get the idea that everything could be hunky dory after everything that had happened? Why the hell did I want any of it after all that I’d seen and he’d done?

Angel and I muddled along, wading through the quicksand of our dying relationship with our eyes closed to keep from seeing the real truth of us. It took a drunken Spike to plow through our delusions, telling us we could never be just friends. He had this whole speech about how love was blood screaming inside you to do it’s will. I tried to ignore it and tell myself he was drunk and stupid, but the things he said niggled at the back of my mind, burrowing deeper and forcing me to open my eyes to the truth.

Although I knew it was the right thing to do, I still held onto hope that something would happen and we could be together. After the decision was made, it was harder to talk to Angel. There was never any real pain on his part that we were over. His demeanor was the same as it had always been, showing no signs of heartbreak and causing me to be frustrated, sad, and angry all at the same time.

Angel’s chest rumbled angrily at the childish attitude she seemed to have. Was she blind? Just because he wasn’t blubbering all over her didn’t mean he wasn’t upset about having to leave her. Of course he was going to miss being near her, but you do what you have to. He definitely needed to find a way to anchor his soul. Then she’d run into his arms and be his little Buffy as he guided her back to the right path.

Just as I let him have it for not being more emotional about our breakup, he gets poisoned and I have to force his demon to drink from me to save him. I came close to dying a second time as his teeth tore viciously into my neck. There was never any love or concern from his demon, so my well being didn’t matter as he took what he wanted and nearly drained me dry. Did he even say thanks for saving his undead butt?

He walked away. No I’m sorry. No asking me if this is what I wanted or needed. He just left. Seeing him across the smoke filled street looking at me one last time still haunts my nightmares. To know I wasn’t enough; to know that sex was more important than the person, well, that was a type of death in itself.

Some days I wish he would have left me right after he recovered from being brought back. I think it might’ve been easier than dragging it out as we did. My heart would’ve still been shattered, but at least I would have been spared some of the anguish that came with that year.

Let’s discuss the cursed soul of my ‘true love’. That’s laughable. How can someone who can’t love me and in actuality, wanted to drive me insane before ripping me to pieces without the soul, be considered a true and lasting love?

I know that Angel without soul isn’t the same, but Angelus lurks under the surface of the souled version all of the time. There isn’t any escaping from his demon, although he, himself refuses to acknowledge that fact. If the demon can’t love me then there is no forever for us.

Until recently I wanted to pretend differently. I wanted to hide from the truth of things and wait for my knight to ride in on his white horse to tell me either he’d somehow become human or the soul was anchored and the demon half had accepted it.

But I know now that it's never going to happen, and I can't shut these things out any longer. Not after Spike.

A demon, who was supposed to be totally evil, got a soul. For me. To give me ‘what I deserved’. I see now how much hell Spike will go through willingly- and for eternity, if necessary- for the ones he loves.

He loved before he had a soul and is totally unique in this ability. I’m not saying there aren’t other vampires who were able to have these kinds of emotions and changed because of them, but they were few and far between. Spike always accepted what he is and he never wanted to be anything other than himself.

Angel wants nothing more than to ignore what he is, to hide the other side of himself. Maybe if he would have tried to accept it we could have been more than we were.

Our relationship was almost always painful. Yes, I cared for him, and he cared for me, but it was more affection and admiration than true love. For many years now, I’ve refused to open my eyes to these things, wanting to keep my perfect ideal of him. Something that was never real, only the stuff of dreams and not what actually happened between us.

Angel treated me like a child who needed constant supervision because any decision I made would be the wrong one. He still does. To this day, he continues to act as if I’m too dumb to tie my own shoes. In his eyes I was and will always be a little girl who needs his guidance to be able to do my job properly. I don’t think he ever knew the real me.

I was a typical teenager who wanted friends, boys, shopping, and fun. Before I was called, I was a selfish little girl whose deepest friendship depended on how popular that person was and if they had the right clothes, hair, and makeup. My life changed overnight and I became the Slayer. A killing machine who can only now admit that I love the intense rush from the fight. I need it. Without the ongoing battles of daily slaying, I wouldn’t have a purpose. For the most part I hate being the Slayer, but I do realize what it has actually given me.

I am the Chosen One and I know now that I have this gift for a reason. I’m strong and can take care of myself, and for that I’m grateful. But I’m also human and I’ve made my fair share of mistakes.

I caused myself so much heartache and angst comparing everyone after Angel to a totally unrealistic fantasy.

Poor Spike suffered the most because of my stupidity. I can finally see how deserving he is of my loyalty, friendship, and maybe more. He has loved me more than Angel ever could, but I still don’t know if I can love him the way he should be loved. I don’t even know if I can love anyone without the hurt and anger of Angel standing between us.

I have so much more of myself to work on. I’m not whole and until I am, I can’t be with anyone.

@~@~@~

What the fuck was this?

Angel leapt from his chair, roaring his rage loud enough to rattle his glass of scotch right off his desk. He ignored the tinkle of breaking glass and flung the book of lies across the room to slam against the wall.

The things Buffy had written were outrageous! He’d only had her best interests at heart, no matter what she thought, and for her to compare him so disdainfully to his lowly grandchilde was horrifying. How could she even suggest Spike might be better than him?

Spike!

As soon as he saw that little prick again he was going to rip him apart. Somehow, he knew Spike must have done something to her to make her think these things. It must be some sort of crazy spell, or maybe the little bastard had finally learned thrall.

Palming a stake, Angel grinned maniacally as he pictured all the ways he could make his grandchilde bleed before actually killing him. Harmony chose that moment to invade his office with his scheduled cuppa, one of their newest employees following directly on her heels.

Glowering, Angel spun to face the intruders. “What do you want?” He growled through clenched teeth as his face shifted between demon and human mask.

The ditzy blonde secretary let out a high pitched screech, startled by her normally calm boss’s uncharacteristic, ear-splitting fury. “I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t know this was a bad time,” Harmony squeaked. “I brought your supper and this is the new guy you wanted to have a word with.”

“Excuse me, but I’ve been waiting out there for hou-,” the vampire behind her stupidly interjected. Harmony barely had time to dodge the flying stake before his dust coated the plush carpeting.

Angel whipped out another stake and Harmony screamed. She dropped the cup of blood and bolted out the double doors to safety. She’d never seen Angel this angry before. Shuddering with the sight of him throwing a stake at an innocent vampire for no reason, she knew she needed to find someone to calm the enraged vampire down and fast before she herself experienced early retirement.

Angel needed air. He needed a drink. He really needed to torture some ugly fuck of a demon to death. ‘Yeah, that last one sounded the best,’ he thought to himself as he stalked out of his office. Permanent brood wrinkles began forming in his forehead as he stomped his way to the elevator, a low growl reverberating through his chest the entire time.

A/N *waves sheepishly* Hi everyone. I'm really sorry for how long it has been since my last update. RL and some very frustrating things got in my way and caused a case of very bad writers block. Although I've had this fic in my head for a long time, the actual writing of it refused to come out and made me a blubbering mess for a while. I'm still not at 100%, but I've taken the advice of one of the panelists at writercon and started writing no matter if it was any good or not. The first half of this chapter took me 3 weeks to write as I was only able to get out a few paragraphs at a time and then would delete half of those and rewrite them again. The good news is writing through the block is helping and I've already done the research and written down the notes for my next chapter which I plan on starting to write tonight when I have my uninterrupted 2 hours after everyone goes to bed. It may still only be done a few paras at a time, but it shouldn't take more than 2 weeks to write even at my snails pace.

I want to tell my betas, Spikeslovebite and Megan, how much I love them. They were very supportive through all of this and so happy and enthusiastic when I finally sent them the chapter to be beta'd they jumped right on it. They sent it back to me on the very same day, which isn't easy for them with their own RL and all the others they beta for. Thank you so much ladies for your caring, time, and patience. *hugs you both tight*

Spike sat where Wesley had left him, his eyes taking in every minute detail of the glossy photos resting in his lap. Hopes that he thought he’d managed to thoroughly repress long ago once again flared to life, gaining in intensity as he stared at his girls.

Oh, balls! What the bloody hell’s gotten into me? Wastin' time listening to the grand high wanker himself goin’ on and on about them not needing me and bein' afraid she didn't mean her last words. Hearin’ him tell me how I’d only bring my girls pain if they knew I wasn’t dust. How I was nothin’ but muscle to them. To Her. She might not want me, and I may be nothin’ but muscle, but she’d want to know I was back. Even if she doesn’t love me, she still cares. And it’s her soddin’ decision if she wants me around, anyway. Turnin’ into a right git, I am. Since when do I pay attention to what his hulking broodiness thinks anyway?

Spike leapt to his feet and paced the room, an agitated hand running through his bleached locks as he bit down on his bottom lip in concentration.

He wasn’t the type to hide away from the ones he loved. No, that was the coward’s way out. He might fear rejection, but it had never stopped him from going after what he wanted before, and he wasn’t about to let it now. Just the sight of his girls gave him purpose, made him remember who he was and not what Angel said he was.

There was only one person he could ask about getting in touch with Buffy. With his mind made up, a peace he hadn’t known since the night he’d spent holding Buffy in his arms descended over him. Throwing himself back down in the chair, he waited for the ex-watcher’s return.

@~@~@~

Wesley walked towards his office with a smile, feeling as if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He knew Buffy would be calling soon to inform him of her arrival time in LA, and he couldn’t wait to see the fireworks when she walked in. From what he gathered during their conversation, Angel would soon be getting what he deserved and it sounded as if Spike might finally get the girl.

His mind drifted to Fred and the memory of her powdery scent from earlier in the day filled his senses, causing him to harden as he reached the door to his office. Lost in his own little world, he didn’t notice Spike standing in front of him until he began snapping his fingers in his face.

“Oi, Oxford! Pull your head outta your arse for a minute. Got somethin’ I need to ask you ‘bout and the chit’s got you staring off and droolin’ down your front. It’s not a pretty sight, mate.” Spike chuckled as Wes’ glazed eyes cleared and finally focused on him.

“I-I-I’m certain I don’t know what you mean, Spike,” Wes stuttered, trying to get his breathing under control and turning an embarrassing shade of crimson at being caught thinking impure thoughts about the woman he secretly loved.

“Right, and I’m the bloody Queen of England. That infatuation of yours is gonna have you runnin’ into walls soon. Sod all…grab the girl and snog her silly,” Spike offered helpfully.

“Sure, I’ll rush right out and do that now, because it’s always worked so well for me in the past, oh Master of Knowing-what-all-women-want,” Wes stated sarcastically.

“Oh, balls! You’re a rugged demon hunter now, not some poncy council wanker. Grow a pair and go get your woman.” Spike was becoming impatient. He needed to get Buffy’s phone number, not coach Wesley on how to woo Fred.

“What about you, Spike? Why haven’t you gone after the girl yet?” Wes challenged, letting his embarrassment at being caught out get the better of him, even though he knew Spike was only trying to help.

“Didn’t you hear a bloody thing I said ‘bout needin’ to ask you something when you got back?” Spike growled as Wes shook his head negatively. “I guess I can overlook it this once, seein’ as how you were off in shag-her-senseless land when you showed up,” Spike teased mercilessly.

Wesley blushed fiercely. He couldn’t believe how insightful the bleached vamp seemed to be about others. In the short time they’d spent together, Spike had been very precise in his observations, although he seemed to have a severe blind spot when it came to his own love life.

“What was it you needed to ask?” Wes questioned, trying to pretend Spike hadn’t mentioned his own lusty thoughts.

Spike began to pace the room again and Wesley realized that this seemed to be a common theme when the vampire was agitated or nervous. When he was almost mowed down twice, he decided discretion was the better part of valor and took a seat out of his way.

“Need to get in touch with my girl, is what. You know she’d punch me good and proper in the nose for that remark, but I can’t stop thinkin’ of her that way, even if she sees me as just someone who has her back,” Spike rambled as he turned to cross the room again. “Seein’ her, Nibblet, and Joyce in them pictures knocked some soddin’ sense into me. Got Peaches’ words right outta my head, it did, and I’ve gotta let her know I’m undead and kickin’ before she finds out from someone else, or there’ll be hell to pay. She hates it when other people make decisions for her.”

“Ahh, I see. If you’ll give me a mo…”

A loud screech interrupted Wes and forced the vampire and ex-watcher out into the hall to see what the commotion was about.

The sight of Harmony running from Angel’s office, arms flailing wildly, had the two onlookers trying not to laugh as they wondered what would cause such a reaction from the ditzy blonde secretary.

Angel stormed out only a few seconds later, rage clearly written across his features, growling and mumbling under his breath and seemingly oblivious to everything around him. The barely contained violence in his clenched fists and jaw reminded Spike of Angelus and had him pulling Wesley back into his office to keep from being noticed.

Puzzled as to why the younger vampire had taken up a protective stance in front of him, blocking his view of Angel, Wes stilled, waiting for Spike’s rigid form to relax. A moment later his blond guard dog’s shoulders relaxed and he knew whatever threat Spike had perceived in Angel’s presence had passed.

“What was that all about?” Wes asked from behind him.

“Seems Peaches is right pissed, goin’ on ‘bout givin’ me and anyone else that gets in the way of him and Buffy a long, slow, painful death. I don’t know what the Slayer put in that journal of hers, but whatever it is, it bloody well has him in a helluva snit,” Spike muttered absentmindedly. He was aware of two things. One, Angel’s office was empty, and two, Buffy’s journal was unguarded. It took all he had to control the part of him that was screaming to know what was in that book.

“Well, I must say I saw this coming,” Wesley stated, quickly realizing he’d let something slip before trying to fix his mistake. “I assumed she had probably written some things that might be very unpleasant for others to read. She was trying to work through her emotions, after all, and when one starts examining their life in such a way, it’s not going to be pretty.”

Without acknowledging Wesley’s statement, Spike took off down the hall and barged into Angel’s inner sanctum. He quickly scanned the disarrayed room in search of the item he hadn’t been able to take his mind off of since Wes first interrupted his Angel taunting.

There, lying wide open on the floor, was the leather covered tool of torment. How could he think of it as anything else? Would it make him as bad as Angel if he snuck just the tiniest peek? It held the answers to some of his biggest questions, but if he dared touch it, the woman he worshipped might never speak to him again.

Wes watched from the door as Spike glared at the journal like it was an opponent he was sizing up for the slaughter. He had to stifle an unmanly giggle as the blond stalked menacingly towards the offending object before turning his back to it, waving his arms and mumbling incoherently. This could turn out to be quite fun to watch.

The compulsive pacing began as Wesley knew it would, followed by a fierce roar of frustration that made him jump back a step. His already overwrought nerves took another beating when his cell rang and he fumbled to get it out of his pocket. Seeing who the caller was, he nearly dropped the phone in his excitement.

“W-Wesley Wyndham-Price speaking.” Wes struggled to get his voice under control. He backed away from the door and moved where he could continue watching Spike without being overheard whispering to the Slayer.

“Hey, Wes, it’s Buffy. I wanted to let you know the first available flight won’t be leaving for another four hours. I think that’ll put me at Wolfram and Hart around noon tomorrow after going through customs and stuff,” Buffy informed him.

“Stupid book! Sittin’ there mockin’ me…” The air in Angel’s office should have been blue from the mixture of British and American swear words spewing from the blond vampire. Wesley watched as Spike prowled the floor, one hand frantically searching his pockets for a smoke as he volubly cursed the little book.

“Is that Spike I hear in the background?” Buffy questioned with a tinge of excitement in her voice. Images of his sleek form filled her mind and made her smile to know she hadn’t lost him forever as she’d feared.

“Yes. He’s having a slight, um, moral dilemma at the moment. It’s quite entertaining, I must say,” Wes chuckled.

“Soddin’ bint knows I can’t take this kinda temptation. Evil vampire here…” Something crashed to the floor and Wesley winced. “What the hell does she expect of me?” Spike continued to rant as he finally freed a cigarette, lighting it and taking a deep pull into his dead lungs. “There’s my answer layin’ right in front of me, and she’ll rip my balls off if I look at it.”

“What’s his problem?” she asked, giggling at the thought of Spike pacing a hole in the carpet of Angel’s office.

“I should start by telling you that when I returned to the office earlier, he had already decided he needed your phone number so he might inform you of his return. It seems that seeing the photos of you and Dawn and your mother cleared his mind a bit. He also mentioned something about your being very angry at him for assuming to make decisions for you. As for what he is so diligently cursing about at the moment, he’s, er, talking to your journal.”

“He’s what?” Buffy wasn’t sure she heard him right.

“Angel stormed out of the building a few minutes before you rang, and Spike is now glaring at your diary and yelling at it for tempting him. He’s truly trying to do the right thing, but he may not be able to stop himself from reading some of it. I hope you don’t hold this against him in anyway,” Wesley whispered into the cell phone.

“Oh, gotcha. I don’t care if he reads it. It’s Spike, after all, and I kinda thought he would anyway. He’s not so good at being resist-y guy, especially when it comes to me. Maybe you should go in there and try to calm him down some. I know how his mind works most of the time and he’s probably working himself into a huge freak out,” Buffy said. She actually hoped that he would read it before she arrived. Maybe it would lessen some of the awkwardness of their anticipated reunion. After all, the stupid vampire would probably be afraid to touch her and stand there staring at the floor mumbling his tale of how he was brought back to being undead.

“You could be right about that. I’ll be waiting on your arrival tomorrow morning. Goodbye.” Wesley pocketed his cell before walking into Angel’s office to see Spike slide down the wall to sit on the floor beside the journal.

Spike slowly reached out and picked up the book with a resigned sigh. He couldn’t take the doubting voice in his head any longer. The one that was continually insisting she never cared for him. Buffy was going to be really mad at him for this, but he couldn’t go on not knowing.

Looking down at the journal resting open in his hands, Spike began to read.

1/07/03

I’ve been sitting here wide awake for the past hour, unable to sleep after the thrill of kicking ancient vamp butt and getting Spike back. I’m filled with relief and for the first time since he was taken, I can breathe. Knowing I’ll see that infuriating smirk and have to listen to his annoyingly perceptive insights is comforting in a strange sorta way.

For days I was scared I wouldn’t be able to defeat the ubervamp and get him back. Really, after that smack down, I should be sleeping like the dead, but here I sit thinking of the differences between the two men who have influenced my life so much.

The relief I felt finding Spike un-dusty made me realize I’d had the same exact reaction when I knew Angel had survived being poisoned. These thoughts started a chain reaction and here I sit writing about my first love.

Slamming the book shut, Spike looked up at Wes and grumbled under his breath. He’d seen all he needed to before his conscience got the better of him for delving into Buffy’s intimate thoughts. He suddenly realized he could’ve damaged any future they might have together, whether it be as friends or something more. He decided it was better to have her in whatever capacity she chose than read what was hidden in the leather bound pages.

“Take this bleedin’ thing,” Spike growled, shoving it into the other Brit’s hands.

@~@~@~

Angel punched the concrete wall of the garage. Anger and hatred filled the air as his fist struck and sent a plume of cement dust billowing around him.

Damned sun keeping me from being able to go out and finding some disgusting demon to destroy. Damned job that has me stuck on human hours. I can’t believe I stormed out in the middle of the day and am now stuck here. I hate Spike! All of this is his fault.

Then it hit him. Sewer access. He’d used it for most of his existence. Why hadn’t he thought of it before instead of standing here and beating a wall to pieces? There was no need to dwell on it now. Angel knew he could find what he needed to vent his rage under the city. There were always plenty of malevolent creatures lurking down there and planning out their next evil scheme.

As he opened the manhole cover in the car park, he pondered different ways to make it look as if Spike had somehow lost his soul and gone back to being his drenched-in-the-blood-of-innocents evil self. He was positive he could convince his crew that, although Spike had fought for his soul, it didn’t necessarily mean that it was permanent. Killing the annoying little bastard would then earn him praise and sympathy for sacrificing yet another family member for the greater good. Making them believe it would only hurt Buffy and the Sunnydale contingent if they knew Spike had been brought back and then had turned against them would be a very easy task.

His infuriating grand-childe would be gone for good without anyone from Sunnydale being the wiser, and the path to having what should have already been his would be clear. He could even use the grief he was positive Buffy still held for the bleached moron and pretend to be mourning Spike as a way of insinuating himself back into her life.

Angel thought when he’d left the building he wouldn’t be able to finish reading that cursed journal, but now he needed to know everything if his newly formed plan was to work. It may take a few weeks to come to fruition, but he’d always been one for patience.

Patience, after all, was his best virtue.

A/N It has been a very harsh few months. My father has been diagnosed with cancer and my uncle was put in ICU for congestive heart failure, developed endocarditis, and had to have heart valve replacement surgery. Needless to say writing time is almost nothing, but I will finish the fic even if it takes months. This will also be a two part chapter because it came out to be over 7000 words long. Word count for this part it 2960 without the title or any of this a/n stuff. LOL

Once again I give my betas, Tam and Megan, lots of smooches for all of the time and work they give to me.

Angel burst from the elevator covered in purple slime, a new sense of purpose and determination in every step. Slaughtering demons filled him with satisfaction and as champion for the Powers, he knew whatever he felt in his gut to be the right thing to do was, well, the right thing to do.

Buffy was his reward and Spike would never be good enough to walk the same earth as her. Yes, she'd strayed from the path, but that was entirely Spike's fault for misleading her like he had. She had such a naïve and trusting nature, and that was the only reason she'd allowed him so close. He'd twisted her around his little finger and it was Angel's job to take him out so she wouldn't be destroyed by someone so unworthy.

While down in the sewers, the vampire had found exactly what he needed and came up with the perfect plan. All he had to do was start sending Spike out on 'missions', feeding him the information on them only when they were alone so that no one else would know he was involved. These outings, he'd decided, would consist of some legitimate demon sightings that needed to be taken care of as well as a few fake ones involving a cult of 'corrupt humans' using black magic to call forth demons from other dimensions.

He was positive Spike would take the bait and follow up Angel's 'leads' on the bad guys. Although he couldn't tell him to kill humans, he could tell him that he might have to resort to a little torture to get whatever random person Angel chose from the phone book to spill the information on the rest of the cult members.

The ally Angel had found down in the dank tunnels would help solidify his claims that Spike was still tormenting the very people he was sworn to protect. The Dravoc demon was supposed to start coming by Wolfram and Hart in a few days, asking random people where Spike was and letting slip the lies Angel fed him. This would give everyone in the building the idea that the bleached vampire was up to no good.

Soon his arrogant grandchilde would be nothing more than a bad memory. He would finish the journal that made him want to chain Buffy to a wall and strip her skin until all traces of Spike were gone, so he would know what he needed to do to show his beloved the error of her ways and bring her back into the light.

It would also give him the advantage over his opponent and help him convince his team Spike was evil and had been playing them all. He was positive he could make them believe that the little asshole had been working for Wolfram and Hart the entire time since his miraculous resurrection.

Yes, all that needed to be done was to finish reading the infuriating book and soon his new friend would begin the plan to make sure everyone saw Spike for the bloodsucker he truly was. Not one of the Scoobies, especially Buffy, need ever know of Spike's return and final dusting by Angel.

Walking towards his office, Angel decided to get the journal and head up to his apartment. He hoped he hadn't mangled it during his latest fit of rage. At least up there he wouldn't have anyone walking in on him if he got a little upset while he read the rest of it. It wouldn't do for any of his team to become suspicious if his face started changing uncontrollably in anger.

The eyes that observed Angel grew suspicious as they watched the broody vampire disappear into his private elevator.

~*~*~

Excerpts from the journal of Buffy Summers
Feb. 11th 2003

I just told Spike I wasn't ready for him to not be here yet. What does that mean? Who am I trying to fool? I know exactly what it means. Gah, why is it so hard for me to be honest when it comes to him, even if it's only to myself? I've depended on him, trusted him, and done things I can't pronounce- much less spell- with him (his words, not mine), but I keep sticking that evil vampire moniker on him when I know it's not true. When I had to kill Angel and send him to hell I thought my blinders had been permanently ripped off, but look at me sitting here still being denial girl. Still refusing to admit who and what Spike truly is.

Yes, he's a vampire, but also very much more. How could I ever describe the varying faces of the bleached blond menace? How can I come close to explaining the changes in him as the days, months, and years slide by? How is it possible to put into words the wide range of emotions he continues to evoke in me?

He's so much more than a demon. Long before he received that hard-won soul that I deemed so important, he was unlike any other I've ever known. I can't deny it any longer.

In the beginning, he was just another big bad I was supposed to shove a pointy piece of wood into and move on to the next evil thing. But- and this is a big one- there was one difference between him and all the rest that stuck out like a giant sore thumb. He could and did love.

Don't get me wrong. He was a bloodsucking demon when we met. I so wanted to make him fit into a dust buster and get back to my Angel kissage, but that didn't stop me from seeing every emotion flit across his face when his 'dark princess' was near.

It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Although I knew that Angel loved me, it could never compare to the complete devotion Spike showed so readily for his Drusilla. His world revolved around her. Everything he did was for her, even the need to kill me. My death could have meant her cure, and that was the most important thing in his unlife at the time.

I was jealous of Dru back then. Not because I wanted Spike for myself, but because I so badly wanted Angel to love me like that.

Drusilla was the motivating factor behind everything that Spike did. For her, he reveled in mayhem and danced in the blood of innocents. His reasons for becoming the killer of my kind were varied, from earning the respect of his family to proving to Drusilla he was the better vamp, but the biggest motivation was his second love. Fighting a worthy opponent full on, fist and fangs, balls out to the bloody, glory-filled end.

Who better to fight than slayers? It was the obvious choice.

For years I'd had the council rhetoric that demons have no soul, and in turn have no feelings, drilled into my brain. That was one lesson I seemed to learn and very well. Then I was faced with the self-proclaimed Slayer of Slayers, one of the most dangerous vampires to my kind in existence, and he could love.

What was I supposed to do with that information? I know what I did do with it. Ignored it completely. Pretended that what I saw was nothing more than a demon's obsession with his sire. Although every other demon I'd come up against by that time wouldn't have cared one bit if I'd threatened their companion with staking, as long as it meant they could drain me dry.

In the beginning I detested, loathed, and abhorred Spike with every fiber of my being. He not only tried to kill me himself, but he had the gall to send assassins after me. Giles had me study him, of course, and I know exactly how he got the name Spike-as well as how he killed two of my sister slayers. I read about his time with the Scourge of Europe and every other vile act the bleached butthead committed that was recorded in history.

When I saw him for the first time in that dirty alley behind the Bronze, my brain slipped to 'whoa-what-a-hunk-of-salty-goodness' land. Then he had to go and burst my bubble by being all demon-y with the killing me on Saturday line. I can honestly say after that my brain kicked in and the droolage stopped. He was just another vampire to dust.

Despite knowing what he was and what he was capable of, I have to admit that fighting him was some of the most fun I've ever had. His tongue was as sharp as mine, and every quip I threw at him, he snarked right back. He was quick, strong, and agile, and he always left me wanting another go round.

Then everything was turned upside down and my insane-o freak of a boyfriend wanted to kill me and suck every living thing into hell with a big rock. Yeah, I wigged. Didn't have the first clue what I should do and in the end it was my mortal enemy's strange sense of honor that helped me save it. And that love I refused to believe he could feel was the driving force behind him being Mister Helpful Vamp.

He grabbed his ho of a girlfriend and left that day. I thought he was gone for good and I'd never have to worry about the Big Bad again, but of course he couldn't keep his oh-so-annoying self away for long.

Nope, after promising me I'd never see that infuriating smirk again, he popped back up smelling like he'd drank every drop of whiskey in the country and kidnapped my friends. Stupid, love-sick vamp couldn't keep his precious nut job happy and thought killing me would do it. He was so drunk he couldn't even keep his mind on what he was supposed to do and went after Willow instead, trying to force her to do a love spell for him.

I was so pissed when I saw him taunting Angel, pretending he was gonna kill my mother. How I knew he was pretending is another matter. For some strange reason there was no question in my mind that my mother was safe in his presence. That weird sense of honor he had wouldn't allow him to hurt her.

I guess that's when I knew I trusted him in a strange the-world-just-tipped-on-its-axis kind of way. He might have been evil, but he wasn't twisted in the way Angelus was. When Spike came at you, it was always to your face. Yeah, he'd kidnapped my friends, but I knew they were still alive because they were a means to get Dru back, not a way to hurt me.

By the end of the night he'd thrown me for another loop with his 'never be friends' speech, and then he was gone again. Deep down, I knew what he said was the truth, but I wanted him to be wrong. I wanted to keep Angel as badly as he wanted to keep Dru.

The next time his royal pain in the ass showed up to make my life a living hell, Angel was in LA staying away from my soul sucking self, and I was trying to date normal. Out of nowhere, at a frat party of all places, I see a shock of bleached blond hair. Spike and his newest bimbo, Harmony, had some college guy sandwiched between them. Seems Dru'd left him yet again and he'd latched on to the first thing he could find. But Harmony Kendall? Really!

As soon as I confronted them, Harmony's mouth opened and out poured Spike's little secret expedition for the Gem of Ambrosia, or whatever. It seemed he'd finally tired of our dance and had found a fool-proof plan by becoming invincible vamp, or so he thought.

When Giles explained to me everything the gem would be able to do, I was enraged of course, but with it came disappointment and a little sadness. Not because he might win and I might actually die this time, but because he really wanted our battle to be over.

Somehow in my mind I'd turned our confrontations into some sort of twisted friendship or something. The adrenaline rush that surged through my body in anticipation of a good knock down, drag out every time I saw that day-glow hair caused my face to hurt trying to force the smile that wanted to split it into a scowl. On some level, I knew I didn't want him to be dust. It would have put an end to that evil smirking mouth that kept up his side of our banter so well. His being around to continue our dance gave me a giddy feeling similar to that of a slay-free night spent with my friends. Gods, I'm one sick puppy.

Alas, he did get the gem and we did fight. I should have died that day. He was stronger, faster, and just all around better than I, especially with that gaudy ring on his finger, but in the end I wasn't laying broken and dead on the campus quad. There wasn't even a mark on my neck from his fangs. Instead, a smoking vampire had to dive into a sewer entrance and I was walking to Giles' apartment with mystical jewelry in hand. It was almost too easy. I can't help but think that he wasn't ready for a world without me in it either.

I didn't see Spike again until he'd been captured and escaped from the Initiative. The strange vamp came to us for help after days of starvation and hiding from commandos. How many vampires would go to their mortal enemy for asylum? It was just another piece in the Spike puzzle that didn't mesh with all the things my watcher had taught me about the evil dead.

Along with him came more confusing ideas and thoughts. Things Giles had always told me were flipped upside down with his presence. Emotions I tried to ignore and cram down into the deepest parts of my psyche surfaced, slapping me in the face.

Seething anger arose at whoever had neutered 'my' vampire and subsequently destroyed the thrilling fights I enjoyed so much. And that was another thing, when had he become 'my' vampire? There was also sadness that this strong and resilient creature was starving from the inability to feed and couldn't defend himself from even the weakest of humans. But the one that scared me the most was hope. Hope that maybe once he'd accepted what had been done to him and the situation he was in now, we might one day be at least patrol buddies.

I fully admit I wigged and lashed out at him. There was no way I could have my friends knowing that I could see him as more than an evil disgusting thing. I thought there was something fundamentally wrong with me to be able to imagine there was some small amount of good under the demon. I knew they'd think I was falling for another vamp, which was so far off base at the time. I swear there was none of the girlie want-of-a-boyfriend tinglies going on.

I just knew there was more to him than the annoying fiend he displayed to others. I could imagine him fighting with us and maybe being a friend one day, but I almost destroyed those ideas allowing my fear to dictate my actions. I treated Spike like nothing, worse than something stuck to my shoe, and whenever I opened my mouth to say something to him, it always came out scorn-filled and hateful. Schyeah, I was definitely setting the good example he needed.

Looking back, I know the worse we treated him, the more things he did to try and hurt us in return. I let my friends influence the way I perceived his actions. Through their eyes, I saw him as instigating all of it. In my mind, he did all the bad and we were more than kind.

What a crock.

He was chained to a tub, barely fed as I taunted him mercilessly about being nothing. Just a limp, useless, subhuman thing. The Chosen One gig should have come with a better moral compass instead of allowing me to do these things to someone who couldn't fight back. My mother would have been appalled and completely disappointed in me if she ever knew the things I'd done to him.

Is it any wonder that Spike conspired against us with Adam so he could get the chip removed? Honestly, I wanted to torture him myself when I figured out what he was doing. At least that skewed white-hattedness that kept me fighting the darkness in the world kicked in and didn't let me do the horrible things running through my head.

Now? Well, I can't say that I blame him for it. I mean really, how many of us would have taken the daily abuse from people who were supposed to be the epitome of good and not want to be free of such torment? He came to us for help. Not to be smacked around and humiliated constantly.

I wonder how different everything might have been if we would've acted like the good guys we were supposed to be and showed him at least little bit of compassion?

@~@~@~

Angel's eyes flashed gold with repressed anger and the journal's leather binding tore slightly from the pressure of his intense grip. He knew that getting through the rest of this book without flying off the handle was going to take every ounce of control over his demon he could muster.

This chapter will be continued in part two of Knight in Black Leather. It is written, but needs some tweaking and then my betas have to get their hands on it.

TBC ....