Author: enigmaticblue <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>

Rating: Mild R for adult themes and language.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except for Tim. He's mine. Of course, I don't make money off of any of them. Oh, and the title is from a Patti Griffin song of the same name.

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, just ask.

Summary: Spike leaves after a slightly altered "Seeing Red," and doesn't come back. This fic is set about five years or so later.

A/N: A few things before we get started.

1) This fic is not Spuffy. Even if you don't normally read anything not Spuffy, I hope you'll stick with me, because I think it'll be good. Who knows? You might surprise yourself by actually liking a different pairing.

2) This fic is darker than my usual. I'm going to be exploring some pretty adult themes including prostitution, sexual abuse, and suicide. It's not going to be graphic, and I'm going to be sensitive, but I wanted to give fair warning.

3) I don't think I really have to say this, but I will anyway. I am not trying to make any kind of political statements with this fic. I'm doing Spara because I like the pairing and for no other reason. Personally, I think sometimes you just fall in love with someone, regardless of gender.

Dedication: For Speaker-to-Customers, who said he wanted me to try my hand at Spara, and for Heather, who thinks I can write anything, bless her heart.
 

Chapter 2
 

"Death is more universal than life. Everyone dies; not everyone lives." ~A. Sachs
 

For just a split second, Spike thought it was her. Of course, her hair was a brighter gold, her form more slender, shorter. The vampire had been seeing her on every street corner, in the face of every blonde woman who passed by.

It was only a split second since she had never greeted him that kindly. "Spike! It's good to see you again."

The funny thing was, Tara actually sounded as though she meant it. Which made Spike glad to see her, even though he hadn't given the woman a second thought since leaving Sunnydale. "Glinda. You're lookin' good."

"Spike, you—" Xander was interrupted by Tara's calm voice.

"Thank you for coming by tonight, Xander, but I think I'll let Spike walk me home."

Spike wasn't sure if he or Xander were more surprised by Tara's statement. The vampire wasn't certain that he wanted to walk anyone home. Xander knew he didn't want to leave Tara at the mercy of an unchipped vampire. "Tara, I don't think—"

"I do," Tara said, her voice firm. Spike could hear a thin thread of steel that he'd never heard in her before. "I'll see you soon, Xander."

Things had changed in Sunnydale, that much was obvious when Xander nodded shortly and left. Tara turned to look at Spike. "How are you?"

Spike shrugged. "Well as can be expected." Remembering his manners—the few that he had, at least—he jerked his head towards Tim. "This is Tim. Friend of mine. Tim, this is Tara."

To Tim's surprise, the woman held out her hand, giving him a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you." She refocused on Spike. "Do you want to see her?"

The vampire didn't ask how she knew; Tara was a sharp one, he'd always known that. "Be nice."

There was little conversation on the way to the gravesite. In a town the size of Sunnydale, the trip only took a few moments anyway. Tim sensed Spike's need for stillness, as did Tara, and both respected that in their own way.

Spike parked the car and then they walked the rest of the way to the grave, both the vampire and Tim carrying stakes. The other two hung back as Spike approached the tombstone, switching the weapon from his left to his right hand.

They had buried her beside her mother, Spike realized. It was significant, since last time the grave had been secret, tucked away. This time it was out in the open, public—a tacit acknowledgement that the Slayer would not be coming back. With reverent fingers, he traced the letters of her name, the dates that marked the beginning and end of her life. He murmured his goodbye, barely aware of the words he spoke.

Spike remembered everything—every word, every act. He had lived for this woman, and now she was gone. Even though it had been years since he'd seen her, there was still an emptiness now that he knew she was gone permanently.

A wet nose nudged itself under his hand, and Spike turned to look at Luz, who whined as though sensing his mood. Spike sighed and scratched behind her ears. "Yeah," he murmured, touching the tombstone in a final benediction. "'s time to go."

Tara spoke as he stood. "Do you have a place to stay tonight, Spike?"

"Thought 'bout getting a hotel room." The vampire shrugged. "Wasn't plannin' on stayin' in town all that long."

She smiled at him. "Why don't you stay at my place tonight? I have a spare room, and the couch is comfortable."

"What about Luz?" Tim asked.

"Luz is welcome," Tara replied. "I don't have a cat at the moment, so it should be fine."

~~~~~

Spike sat at Tara's kitchen table and watched her make tea. Tim had been yawning in the car on the way over, and so he'd taken the guest room, Luz curling up on the floor next to his bed. The witch had offered him tea, and Spike had accepted. He found himself hungry for news, wanting to know what exactly had happened to the Slayer.

She placed a cup down in front of him and took her own seat. "When did you get it?"

"Get what?"

"The soul."

Spike supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that Tara knew, but he was. "How did you know?"

"It's not hard to see it once you know what to look for." She regarded him calmly for a long moment. "So?"

"After—" Spike sighed. "Did Buffy tell you..."

"She told me," Tara replied. "No one else knows, but she told me later."

He nodded. "After that. Heard about a demon in  Africa  who could grant wishes for a price. Paid his toll an' made my wish."

"What did you wish for?"

Such a simple question, but it was not so easily answered, even though every word had been burned into his memory. "To be what I had been, an' to be what I wanted to be. Not real specific, I know, but I was in a lot of pain at the time."

Tara had to bite back a chuckle. Knowing Spike as she did, she had a sneaking suspicion that his words were an understatement. "So you got the chip out and the soul in."

"Pretty much."

"And Tim?"

"Met him just before I went over there. Ran into him again after I got back." Spike gave her an eloquent shrug. "Boy needed someone to look after him, an' I found myself in a position to do it." The vampire met her eyes. "Dawn?"

"She stayed with me for a while right after Buffy died," Tara replied quietly. "Dawn has her own place now near campus. She'd want to see you, Spike."

"Doubt it," Spike replied. "Not after the way we left things. Where's Red? Would have thought she'd be 'round here somewhere."

Tara shook her head. "She went back to England with Giles after the funeral. She's doing better, but—"

Left unstated was the fact that no one wanted Willow too sorely tempted. Not that she would make the same mistake twice, but there was no sense in putting her within arm's length of the Slayer's grave. "You joinin' her any time soon?"

Tara laughed a little and shook her head. "No, Spike, we haven't been together for a long time. Not since right after you left." When his eyebrow went up in a silent question, Tara looked away. "After you left, things got—crazy. Warren shot Buffy and me. I was lucky. If the bullet had been just another inch to the right—Anyway, Buffy nearly died, and I was in surgery for a while. By the time I came out of it, and they knew I was going to recover, Willow had used the magic to heal Buffy. She just went—I don't know."

"She was drunk on power," Spike said quietly. At Tara's surprised expression, his lips twisted. "I've seen it before, Glinda, an' I saw it in Red before I left. Girl needed to feel like she was the one in control. Not surprised things got out of hand."

"No, I'm not either," Tara admitted. "Anyway, she killed Warren and nearly ended the world before Xander could stop her. Giles took her to a coven in England to learn how to deal with the magic the right way. And when she came back, things just weren't the same."

"I would imagine not," Spike agreed.

Tara found herself watching him. She hadn't been terribly surprised to see him in the Magic Box. Of all of them, she had been the one to realize how deep Spike's feelings for the Slayer went, and she had suspected that Spike would show up soon after her death. It had been five months, but it wasn't as though anyone had sent him a message.

She had always had a secret sympathy for the vampire. Maybe it started when he'd hit her in the nose, thus proving she wasn't a demon. Maybe it had everything to do with the summer that Buffy had been gone, and she had watched him taking care of Dawn and mourning Buffy. They had not done well by him.

Of course, in the end, the gang hadn't done all that well by her or Anya either. The Scoobies had their own charmed circle, and it was impossible to break into it.

Outwardly, little had changed. His hair was still bleached, although it wasn't so short or slicked back. He still wore his duster; he still sat with careless abandon, sprawled out in his chair. The change was in the aura and in the eyes. There was a depth to him that hadn't been there before.

"How long will you stay?"

Spike shrugged. "Dunno. Hadn't planned on staying at all. I was goin' to pay my respects then leave, maybe for L.A. Tim said he wanted to stay somewhere for a while."

"Why not stay here?" Tara suggested. Spike's head shot up in surprise. "Dawn needs you, Spike, and so does Sunnydale."

He scoffed. "Right, because they needed me so much before. You've got a new Slayer, Glinda. Let her do her job."

Tara's look quelled him. "Spike, the new Slayer lives in India, and apparently they've got a Hellmouth there for her to take care of. Besides, Dawn—" She hesitated. "Dawn's in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"The same kind of trouble I was in after my mother died," Tara replied. "She doesn't think it matters anymore. Maybe if you—"

"Take care of her like I did that summer?" Spike asked incredulously. "'s been years since I've seen her, Glinda, an' we didn't part on good terms. 's not my responsibility."

"No, it's not," Tara agreed. "But she listened to you, Spike. She might listen again. Or, at least it might help to know that you still care." She raised an eyebrow. "If you still care."

"I care," he replied, sounding surly. "'course I care. She was mine as much as anybody's. Don't know as she'll listen to me, though."

Tara sighed. "I'm not sure that it matters, Spike. If she knows you're here, maybe that will be enough."

Spike shook his head, not at all convinced. "I'll stick around for a bit then, Glinda. Not makin' any promises, mind you, but I'll stick around to see what comes."