By the time Spike awoke the next evening, Buffy had quit her job, said goodbye to her friends, given up her trailer and was nearly packed for the ten o'clock bus west.
Stretching, Spike sat up and watched her stuffing clothes into a duffel bag.
"Going somewhere, luv?"
At his voice, Buffy spun around and gave him a quick smile. "Yeah. Back home."
Looking at her determined face, he nodded in understanding. "Probably a good idea." Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he reached for his jeans and dragged them on.
"So...what are you going to do?" she asked hesitantly.
Spike answered as he looked around for his shirt. "I'm off to New Orleans. Going to find my woman and explain to her exactly why she's my woman."
Buffy tried not to smile, but couldn't help it when he knelt and stuck his butt in the air while he looked under the bed.
"Where the Hell is my shirt?" he growled.
"It's in the hall, for some reason."
Shaking his head, Spike stomped into the hall and came back, yanking his t-shirt over his head. Buffy pulled the drawstrings on her bag, then sat down on the bed to put on her shoes.
Feeling Spike's eyes on her, she looked up into his inscrutable expression.
After a minute of silence, he spoke softly. "Well, I guess this is it."
"Uh huh." Buffy rose to her feet and reached for her bag.
Her hand was intercepted by Spike's and he tugged her into his arms, grinning down on her. "It's been interesting, Slayer."
Smiling up at him, feeling strangely giddy, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers for a tender kiss. "Remember me," she whispered against his lips before stepping back out of his arms.
"Oh, I think you're unforgettable, Buffy."
Flushing slightly, she grabbed her bag and walked out the door.
As he watched her leave, Spike's lips twisted into a quirky smile and he wondered just how long he would be able to stay away from her.
For, even if they never slept together again, she was just too much damn fun to be around. And, for an eternal vampire, fun was often in short supply.
Friends, lovers, mortal enemies... The labels didn't really matter. The connection was there and could never be broken.
End