Dawn was breaking as they reached the city, though most of his view of the sunrise was through the side window as they were currently heading south. Thank goodness for tinted glass.

Glancing to the side, he couldn't help smiling as he looked at Buffy asleep in the passenger seat. He wasn't fooling himself that they were good with each other, but at moments like this he could pretend.

He still wasn't sure what to make of her insistence that she'd meant what she said when she'd said she loved him. There'd been the tears and the fleeing, which was a good hint that she might still have those feelings, but he figured he shouldn't be surprised that she wasn't dealing with it. Hell, twenty-four hours ago, she'd been certain he was dead.

When he'd seen her run for the shelter of the ladies room, his first instinct had been to follow. Then he'd gotten worried, knowing she probably hadn't eaten properly and was running on pure adrenalin. Protective instincts had kicked in, which was why he'd ordered the sandwich and bought the candy. Looked like it was the right thing to do, too, because she'd been calm for the rest of the trip. She'd eaten, then drifted off to sleep, a sure sign she'd been pushing herself too hard. Poor girl. Needed someone to look after her.

He still wished that someone could be him.

Spike didn't particularly want to wake her, but he knew they'd have to find shelter soon and while the car was vampire friendly, he knew Buffy would likely have to be the one to handle checking them in. Reluctantly, he reached over and shook her slightly. "Buffy. Wake up, luv?"

"Huh? I'm awake, I'm awake." She was looking a bit startled, clearly trying to find her bearings. "Spike, the sun's up...and you're not burning."

"Tinted glass. Lets me drive during the daytime more easily than when I had to spray paint. 'Fraid you'll have to get out and check us into the hotel, though."

It took her a minute to take it all in, then she was scrambling for the bag she'd dumped in the back seat. "I've got membership cards for Hilton and Starwood; Giles insisted I get them for when I travel. Save the world and get points."

She pulled out two thick paperbacks that seemed to have hotel information in them and started to flip through them. "Do we have any idea where your buyer is staying?"

"Let me find out." Out came the cell phone. "And good morning to you, too, Peaches. No, I'm not sorry I woke you up. Look, just getting in to New Orleans and wondering where I should kip. Any idea where Wymere's planning on staying? And why am I not surprised? They're probably going to meet in that damn cemetery because that's where everyone seems to end up. Yes, I'll call you once I know something. Stop worrying."

As he ended the call, Buffy asked, "Are you deliberately not telling him I'm here?"

"I don't see you calling Giles with the news either."

"That's different. I think...I think Giles knows you're alive and didn't want to tell me."

That was not a good sound. "He probably doesn't want me around you; never did think I was good enough for his girl."

"Yeah, but I thought we'd managed to straighten it out after that stupid attempt to kill you. That he wouldn't tell me..."

Buffy shook her head. "Back to business. Did Angel know where this guy's staying?"

"Hotel in the French Quarter called W. Lorne's got some good hooks into the people who make travel arrangements for the rich and evil in the city. He's getting in early evening so he'll probably meet the Youngar at some point tonight."

Buffy started flipping pages again. "Would you believe that W's one of the hotels I have a card for? Prices are high, but if we can catch these things, Giles won't complain too much. We can get some rest and then see if we can follow your guy after he gets in."

It was a good idea, though Spike imagined Angel would complain a lot quicker than Giles. Too bad; Buffy was right that this was the best place to scope out Wymere. "You've got the book, luv. Tell me where we need to go."

It turned out the hotel had a parking garage and covered path to the lobby, so Spike was able to make the trip without burning up. It was a ritzy joint, in keeping with Wymere's lifestyle and he had to wonder if the clerk would suddenly discover that they didn't have vacancies, even thought it was a Tuesday morning during the off-season. He didn't count on Buffy, though, who strode straight forward even as Spike avoided the patches of sunlight in the lobby and was already negotiating their room by the time he arrived. As she had said, she had cards, nice little pieces of plastic that made the clerk all smiles and accommodation. Spike didn't even have to do anything as Buffy handle the details and procured two room keys.

He'd assumed they were staying separately, so it was a surprise when Buffy pulled him into the guest room after him. "I figured one room was best; that way, we're not separated and we don't have to go hunting for one another. Besides, I doubt Angel would appreciate you spending this type of money and Giles would never go for me paying for two rooms, so this was the best I could come up with."

The "best" she could come up with was pure luxury. The room was spacious, with an inviting king size bed at one end and a door that led out onto a sun-drenched balcony. "I mean, it's really better that we stay together if we're tracking a dangerous demon and dangerous buyer," she continued to babble, setting her bags down. "And I thought...you don't mind, do you?"

She looked hesitant, as if she was worried she'd overstepped some unspoken bounds. "Don't mind at all, Buffy. Clean up and hit the sack? We can have a wake-up call around five, which should give us enough time to get ourselves together before we go hunting."

They were just going to sleep, he told himself. They were together for a few days and Spike knew he'd not be able to give her up again if he let himself fall as hard as he wanted to. So he let her have the shower first, taking the opportunity to grab himself a bag of blood from the cooler he'd been toting before stowing it in the closet. When she emerged, wrapped in a plush white terry robe with the hotel's logo, he grab the sweat pants he'd pulled from his bag and headed in to clean off.

Leaning his head against the tile of the shower stall, Spike tried to let the water wash the tension away from his body. He could do this. They were reconnecting on some level and he wasn't going to do anything the might jeopardize that. He didn't think she wanted to go jumping feet first, so he wasn't going to either.

Shampooed and snagging the other robe to put on over the sweats he'd thrown on to preserve slayer modesty, Spike made his way back out to the main room. Buffy was seated on the bed in sweats and a camisole speaking into the phone. "That's right; four PM. Thank you."

"Wake up call?" he asked as he dropped the robe across the foot of the bed.

 "You said five, so that's what I asked for." Sliding under the covers, she gave a deep sigh. "Oh, this is heavenly."

Spike had to chuckle, but he didn't hesitate to do the same. His body was feeling the effects of a long night and he definitely needed the sleep. The bed was soft, the down comforter pulled over both of them just warm enough. There was plenty of space in the bed for them to have their own room, but he didn't complain when Buffy scooched over and curled into him. The feel of her in his arms was a pleasure he thought he'd never enjoy again and he certainly wasn't going to refuse. Planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head, he said softly, "Get some sleep," before drifting off himself.

***

Buffy awoke to find herself wrapped in a cocoon. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew it was Spike next to her, his arms wrapped around her and her head pillowed on his shoulder. For just a moment, she forgot about the mission and let herself enjoy where she was and how safe she felt.

Safe and Spike, two words that seemed completely unrelated, yet she couldn't describe it any other way. This was what they'd been groping toward in Sunnydale, a level of comfort and trust she doubted either of them had known before.

All too soon, the phone rang and she rolled over to pick it up. "This is the wake-up called you requested, Miss Summers," a crisp, professional voice said. "It's five o'clock."

Buffy thanked the woman and hung up. A cool hand touched her shoulder and slide down her arm. "It's time, I take it?"

The words shot her back almost two years to that last morning. They'd lain on the cot and watched the world brighten outside the basement window. As she'd reluctantly started to move, he'd said those exact same words, his hand moving down her arm in just hat way. Feeling her throat tighten, she rolled over and buried her head in his chest, wishing that could somehow erase what had happened after.

For once, Spike didn't say a word but held her tight, as if he understood what was racing through her mind. All too soon, thought, her sense of duty reasserted itself and she reluctantly pulled back. "What time is the guy -- Wymere, wasn't it? -- supposed to be here?"

"Plane's scheduled to get in about five, so figure he'll be here between six and six-thirty." Spike was sitting up, absently rubbing at his hair which was currently a mass of curls. Without thought, Buffy reached out to bury her fingers in those curls, a liberty she'd almost never allowed herself. Her reward was Spike butting his head into her palm, a sure sign he enjoyed it. That led to leaning in closer to one another...which lead to another kiss.

This one was a bit more lust-filled than the kiss of the previous evening, calm contentment rapidly being replaced by something more urgent. If she'd doubted he still wanted her, those doubts were now proved wrong as he pushed her back onto the mattress.

They were both panting when he pulled back. "What the hell are we doing?"

"It thought it was obvious," Buffy said as she reached for him, but he pulled back a little further.

"If we...I can't. I can't do this and have you go flying back to Rome while I go back to Los Angeles. I thought I could live on scraps once, but I was wrong."

Spike rolled off the bed, starting to pace the floor. "You probably think this is damn hypocritical of me since I was always the one rarin' to go and I'm not going to give you some damn speech about getting my rocks back. What I am saying is that to have you and then lose you again would probably be more than I can bear."

She wanted to yell at him What about me? but couldn't actually do it. She hadn't thought beyond the moment or what would happen when they'd rescued the crystal. All she'd known was that Spike was nearby and how easy it was to slip into that comforting pool again.

"You've got a life in Rome; I'm fighting the good fight in LA," he continued. "There's nothing beyond the now and we both know it. I'm sorry, Buffy, but I've actually come to realize that I don't particularly like being hurt and generally try to avoid it these days. I love you and I always will, but it's going to be hard enough to let you go after this; don't make it harder."

The pain was clear in his eyes, clear enough that she wanted to weep. He was putting an end to them once and for all and the empty place inside her that had felt nice and filled just a few minutes ago emptied once again in a rush. But the fact was that he was right; she was going back home when all this was done and the thought of asking him to come with her hadn't even occurred to her. The realization was enough to make her get off the bed and start pulling clothes out of her bag, aware Spike was watching her. When she had everything she thought she needed, she pushed past him into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Another bathroom, another toilet to sit on with her head between her knees once more. Why couldn't they communicate in a straight line? Why did they always end up talking past one another or saying something that pissed the other one off?

Did she not want Spike to come to Rome? Did she want him to go back to LA and never see him again? She couldn't answer yes to either of those questions...but she wasn't going to move to Los Angeles (just the idea of dating Spike under Angel's nose gave her the willies), and she wasn't at all sure she wanted to make the commitment that would be entailed in asking Spike to come to Rome.

Realizing nothing was going to be solved by sitting here, Buffy started pulling on her clothes. She was going to get dressed and then she was going to go out there and tell Spike she hadn't meant to offend him, try to find a way to smooth things over.

When she emerged, she discovered Spike had gotten dressed himself and was staring out the north facing window, his face unreadable. He must have heard her because he said, "I was thinking we'd go down to the lobby and find a nice inconspicuous corner and get something to eat...a nice inconspicuous corner that gives us a good view of both the front desk and the elevators. I want you to get a look at Wymere before we go hunting him."

He didn't turn his head, didn't look at her, just kept staring out the window. The fragile peace between them was gone and she didn't know how to recapture it. "Okay," she said, deciding to play it his way. They'd go be heroes.

A nod of his head and he headed for the door. Buffy followed close behind, so close that when he stopped abruptly, she almost ran into him. Before she could ask him what was up, he'd turned and caught her face between his hands. Looking down at her with an intensity that was frightening, he said, "I will always love you. Never doubt that.

Before she could reply, he was out the door and she knew there'd be no answer to her problem until this was done.

On to Part IV

Back to Part II