Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

    "I was going to knock," Buffy began.
    "You knock?" Spike smirked.  "Not bloody likely.  Besides, I knew you were out there."
    Buffy stepped up to the desk.  It was then she noticed the letter he tried to conceal.  It had Dawn's delicate hand writing on the envelope.
    "Dawn...she sent it to me," Spike replied when he noticed she saw the letter..
    "I know."  Her voice trailed off as she looked at her sister's letter, so lovingly captured in Spike's pale hands.  After all this time, their feelings remained the same.  "She sends her love."
    "She knows you're here?" Spike questioned.
    "Yeah.  She's how I found you."  Spike lifted his scarred brow.  "I needed to find you so I took a shot and hoped you were at the same address as your last letter to Dawn."
    "I didn't know Dawn told you that we still talk."
    "Well, she did.  I know she loves you and I know you love her, so who am I to stand in the way?"  Spike nodded and rose to his feet.  " I have another letter for you from her.  She said if you don't respond ASAP, she's not writing you anymore."
    "I've been a bit busy as of late.  But, hold on there.  I'm not at the same address.  How did you find me?"  He crossed over to the Slayer's side, but not too close.  Despite their relatively polite conversation, a heavy tension filled the air.
    "Found a demon bar there.  Just needed to find the right guy to beat up, usually the bartender," she smiled, her green eyes sparkling.
    "So, what's the deal here, Slayer?"  Spike asked in his business tone of voice.  "I know you're not here for shits and giggles."
    Buffy's hands began to fidget, twisting the silver band in her middle finger.  "No, I'm not. I...I don't really want to get into this here."  Her eyes were all over the room as if she was looking for video cameras and spies behind the potted plants.

       Buffy.  Her name, on his lips, she hadn't heard it in so long.  It still made her happy all over, her name sounded like a melody flowing from his mouth.  Why he could still do this to her was a mystery, one better left alone for the time being.  "Spike, I understand the reluctance, but I came here looking for some assistance.  I'm not going to stake you in your sleep or anything."  Again, her eyes darted around the room.  "I don't want to say anymore right now."
    "When then?  Where?"  He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the solid wood desk.  He was so nervous, so was she he noted.  As Buffy's green met his blue, he heard her heart race.  He was thankful his heart didn't beat; otherwise it would give Buffy's a run for her money.
    "Well, since I'm a stranger in a strange land, I was hoping... you could tell me."  The ol female confidence kicked into gear and she raised an assured chin.
    "Summers, are you trying to get an invitation to my place?"  As soon as it left his mouth he wished he learned to think twice before speaking.  It was so easy for him to slip back into a normal routine with Buffy, but he didn't want to push his luck.
    The comment did not receive a negative reaction, however.  "Unless you have a better idea," she responded, not missing a beat.
    "I have a few things left to do in here, so why don't you go back to Clem and I'll meet you in about a half an hour."
    "Sounds good."  Buffy turned to walk out, but stopped in the doorway.  She eyed the vampire appreciatively.  "You look good," she said a little softer than she anticipated.
    "And you as always," he returned.  His head fell to the floor, taking in his expensive shoes as Buffy exited.
    He took in a deep unneeded breath before returning to his liquor inventory.  He was about to get the wine list when Larry burst through the doors.
    "Hey, boss!  You better get out there now!" he exclaimed as he choked on air.
    "What the bleeding hell is going on out there?" Spike demanded as the two ran through the back.
    "It's Mordecai.  He and his boys came in screaming for the Slayer."
    Spike stopped in his tracks.  If he could have gotten paler, he did.  "Oh, shit!"
    "Why would the Slayer be here?" Larry called after Spike.  He received no answer.
    "Just let her keep that gob of hers shut," he wished to the Powers That Be.
    Spike made it to the club in time to hear with his own ears," Spike!  Where is she?"
    Spike searched the room quickly and luckily found Buffy still seated, Clem's hand on her shoulder.  She wanted up, Spike could tell, but she stayed put, sizing up the situation.
    Spike took in yet another breath before making his way to the intruders.  The seven foot tall red hairy demon stood in the center of the room, flanked by two-foot tall creatures and several vampires, quite the motley crew.  The minions parted as Spike neared.
    "What are you doing here, Mordecai?  You know about the 'no fighting' rule," Spike reminded, disapproval for the demons clear on his face.
    "The Slayer, Spike, I know she's here."
    Spike laughed, eliciting nervous giggles from the rest of the crowd.  "Slayer's not here, mate.  Why would she be?"
    "I don't know, Spike."  The demons advanced on him.  "Why don't you tell me?"
    "I haven't a bloody clue.  But, I suggest you step back and make a swift exit with yer lackeys before I call out the bouncers."  Spike snapped his fingers and six Fyaral demons came into view, clad in black shirts that revealed their position in bright white letters.
    Spike sensed Buffy's struggle to rise from her seat.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clem whisper something to her.  She continued to watch the scene.
    Mordecai growled.  "Fine, for now, Spike.  I know you have her and it's only a matter of time before I do."
    Spike snorted and crossed his arms.  "And what do you plan on doing with her if you find her?"
    "When I find her," he corrected.  "I have a little something I think she would be interested in."
    "And what is that?"
    "That's between me and the Slayer."  He stepped right up to the vampire, towering over him.  Spike stood unflinching as he stared into orange flamed eyes.  "Now, where is she, Spike?"  Mordecai brought one of his huge club hands squarely onto the lean vampire's shoulder.
    "Did you not hear me, you wanker?  I don't know where she is."  He heaved the monstrous appendage off of him.  "Now.  Take your cronies and your ass ugly face and get out of my club."  Mordecai waited a beat before stepping back from Spike.  "Take some advice, Mordy.  Don't mess with that Slayer 'cause she'd knock you down, cut your horns off and stab them through your throat before you could blink."
    "You don't scare me, Spike.  You may be the High and Mighty around here, but don't forget, you're still a vampire and wood is wood."  With that, Mordecai and his crew left the club.
    "It's alright, everyone," Spike addressed the crowd.  "Someone thinks he's too big for his knickers."
    The crowd resumed their merriment while Spike went over to Buffy.
    "What was that all about?" Buffy asked as Spike flipped a chair around and sat.
    "That's just Mordecai, lil ponce who thinks he's Michael Corleoni," Clem commented.
    "Yeah, but he's more of a Fredo!" Sid chuckled.
    "I could of taken care of him," Buffy stated to Spike.
    "No doubt, love, but not in here."
    "Afraid I might break a glass in your club?"
    "No 'might' about it, baby.  I know your work.  I wouldn't have had a club by the time you were through.  Besides, he's not worth the trouble killing.  Bloody thorn in my side though.  Sid, you sure you can't uninvited a demon-"
    "You know I can't, Spike.  Joaquin wouldn't have-"
    "I know I know," he waved his hand in dismissal.
    "But, I wondered what he's got that the Slayer would want?"  Clem questioned, looking from Buffy to Spike.
    Spike shrugged.  "Want to find out, pet?"
    Buffy caught the old nick name and she warmed all over.  It felt good to hear that word from him again; she'd missed it.  She also recognized a sparkle in his azure eyes, the one that told her he was ready for a "rough and tumble."
    "Could be promising," she answered.  "I'm up for some action."
 

    Ten minutes later, they were walking down the lively streets of Buenos Aires.  They kept silent for the most part save comments about the evening and the people out and about.
    "Are you going to the wedding tomorrow?" Spike inquired as he led her towards, where else, the cemetery.
    "I guess so.  I mean, it'd be pretty rude if I didn't.  Besides, I like Clem."
    "And he likes you.  He's a good guy."
    "Is he making you wear a tux?"  Buffy laughed at the prospect.
    "Amazingly enough, I have to do the whole best man deal, toast and everything.  He's one of the only people I would ever do all of this for."  He caught Buffy's gaze.  She was stunning in the moonlight, just as he remembered.  "Are you going to fight in that?" he asked pointing to the dress.
    "I can fight in a dress, I have before.  I even killed the Master in formal wear," she defended.
    "Whatever you say, love."
    A few more moments of silence and then Buffy needed to ask a question.  "So, what kind of demon is this Mordecai guy?"
    "Jebortar demon, a recessive line hailing from the Holy Land.  Big stupid oafs with about as much fighting skill as a banana.  Brings nothing but trouble, he does, with his antics, just like Fredo."
    By passing the Godfather comments, Buffy continued.  "And how do I kill him if I should suddenly feel the need to?"
    "Like I said before, pet; knock him down, cut of his horns and stab him through the throat," he answered matter-of-factly.
    "Easy enough."
    "Just watch out for his acidy spit."
    "His what?!"
    "I'm just joking," he laughed whole heatedly.  Buffy kept walking, her insides reveling in familiarity.  Things just felt off sometimes at home, especially on patrol.  It just wasn't the same knowing the leather clad vamp wouldn't step out of the shadows to help her, annoy her, amuse her.
    Spike called out to her, but she seemed lost in one wonderland or another.  He jogged up to her side and placed his chilled hand onto her bare arm.  She jerked away in surprise; he in turn quickly removed his hand and stepped away from her.
    "I'm sorry," he apologized, his eyes' emotions mixed with shame and a dash of fear.  "I...sorry," he said again as he turned to continue down the road.
    Buffy's hand shot out and grabbed the sleeve of his white coat.  "No."
    Spike looked down at the foreign hand then back at the Slayer.  Before he could question her unexpected statement, Mordecai's boys leapt out in front of them.
    Buffy immediately readied herself for battle, but the minions made no move.
    "So, what is this?  Do I have to bow or something?" Buffy mocked at the stupefied crew.
    Spike stepped toward one of the minions, an axe in his hands.  "Where's Mordecai?  He wanted the Slayer and here she is, waiting for him to deliver."
    "Well, the thing is," on of the vampires began in a thick accent.  "Mordecai, how do you say, jumped ship?"
    "Where to?" Spike said with threatening eyes.
    Buffy was glad for those piercing blue eyes because the white outfit just wasn't as menacing as the black duster.  She loved that duster.
    "Mordecai es muerto," one of the two-foot ankle biters said.
    "Already?!"  Spike exclaimed.  "How did he manage to get himself killed in the past half an hour?"  The demons made no response.
 

    "So he didn't jump ship, he's pushing up daisies," Buffy joked.
    "There's more."  The vampire produced a very old, very large book.  "He said if something ever happened to him, you needed to have this."
    Spike took the book from the vampire's shaky hands.  "A book.  Why is it always a book?" he asked the Slayer, who just shrugged in response.  "Is there anything else?  Who killed him?  What did he want from Mordecai?"
    "It wasn't a 'he', it was a 'she.'"
    "She?  Which she, mate?"  he ground out through a clenched jaw.  His patience, the little he had, was waning.
    The minion held his nonexistent breath.  He feared Spike's reaction to this sudden development.  Despite his resignation to evil and contract with the white hats, Spike would always be a Master vampire.  "La Princesa Oscura.  It was Leila, Spike."
    Spike released a growl at the sound of the name.  "What did she want?  Did she say anything?" Spike interrogated.
    "She didn't say a thing I swear!  She leapt out of the bushes and they fought and he lost."
    "Alright, get on with you then.  I'll take care of it."  The minions didn't need to be told twice.  They ran as if they had thirty seconds left till sunrise.
    Spike turned to Buffy with pure frustration painted on his face.  "Just another in a strange row of incidents," he thought, referring to his eventful evening.
    "Who's Leila?" Buffy asked the inevitable question.
    "Later, Slayer.  We need to get out of here now."
    And so they did, walking to Spike's apartment as quickly as Buffy's heels would allow.