Buffy started from where she had been dancing on that thin line between sleep and wakefulness. She flashed Spike an apologetic glance and smiled softly at the tender look on his face. He’d gone to get drinks just a few minutes before, but her fatigue had drowned out time so that it felt that hours had passed since she had seen him.

“They were out of sweetener,” he said gently, sliding into the seat beside her. “Brought you cream.”

“You’re the best,” she replied, stretching slightly.

“I keep tellin’ you this. It shouldn’t be a bloody surprise.” He grinned and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Though, by last count, it’s you that reminds me nightly.”

“Perv.”

“Yeh, Ms. Kettle. Callin’ me a liar?”

She flushed and leaned into him. “I’m too sleepy to argue with you.”

“Likely story.” He grinned unrepentantly, the sparkle in his eyes fading a bit as a doctor and two nurses stormed hurriedly down the corridor, striking a terrible reminder as to where they were. “I’m guessin’ there hasn’t been any news since five minutes ago.”

“No.” Buffy cast a long glance in the direction of the waiting room. For whatever reason, sitting in there with Josh’s closest friends, even with everything they had been through together, hadn’t felt right. Willow was still with Donna, of course. Of all the Scoobies, the Witch was most definitely the one closest to the Senior Staffers. It was right that she wait with them.

Donna had asked them to stay. Buffy simply didn’t feel right. It was a private time, and not even what had happened in Natchez could complete the bridge between their worlds. Thus Spike had led her outside when he sensed she was uncomfortable. She felt bad for dragging him away when it was more than obvious that the woman in the waiting room needed support.

Spike had told her she was silly to think anyone else, regardless of the circumstance, could matter to him, and had insisted that they pass the time in solitude.

“CJ’s doing another briefing here in a few minutes,” Buffy said. “I’m too lazy to get up right now.”

“’S okay, baby.” He squeezed her tighter and brushed another kiss over her temple. “We’ll know soon enough.”

“She looked horrible at the last one.”

“Well, granted, she was jus’ shot at.”

“More than that. From all the ‘watching of the news’ that Will’s made us do…” She broke off with a deep sigh, her throat too dry for tears. “Tonight doesn’t feel real.”

Spike nodded wearily. “Know what you mean. I’ve lived a bleedin’ long time, sweetheart, an’ I’ve never seen anythin’ like this.”

“How is it that we can stand on the Longwood lawn and banish gods and what else, but enter the sort of reality that the rest of the world is used to and I…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do. I want to go out and go hunt the baddies…do something to make this right. I don’t want to be waiting in a hospital. It feels so…”

“Normal?”

“Yes. Which makes it really, really strange.”

He grinned at the implied irony, but nodded his agreement. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I thought I’d be spendin’ a lot of time in hospitals when I was turned.” He shrugged easily. “These people are important to you.”

“And you.”

Spike scowled. “Not so.”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she reassured him, patting his hand which only made his scowl deepen even as his eyes danced at her mirth. “Secret’s safe with me.”

“Yeh. That’s likely.”

“Donna,” she pointed out.

Spike shrugged easily. “I like her,” he admitted, “an’ I wouldn’t wanna do anythin’ to hurt her, much as it ruins my rep.” Buffy rolled her eyes, inspiring his grin to broaden. “But I wouldn’t be here, even for her, if it weren’t for you an’ your relationship with them. ‘Sides, the only way I got to know Donna was for the way she sat with me when I was worryin’ my head over you.”

She smiled and brushed a gentle kiss across his lips. “She was with you when you needed someone.”

“I needed you. She kept me from losin’ my head. Kept me talkin’ so I din’t worry myself to a bloody second death.”

“She needs Josh now. I guess we’re here to make sure she doesn’t lose her head.”

“An’ by we, you mean Red, right?”

“We’re here, too…if she needs us.”

That uneasy feeling settled over her again. There was a certain line of difference between sitting in a bed and breakfast in some remote southern town and sitting in the waiting room of a hospital after an attempted assassination. Perhaps that was just her perception, though. Their time in Natchez was jaded with memories of both euphoric bliss and some of the most horrifying trials she had ever undergone. She had eaten bread pudding with Donna that first day when the Scoobies had tried familiarizing themselves with their surroundings, but other than that, most of her time had been spent with Spike. It was the man at her side that had gotten to know the Senior Staffers through the grapevine of support that they had offered when she was sick. And despite all else, what Spike had told her, keeping him from where he wanted to be wasn’t fair. Especially in conditions like these.

Buffy licked her lips and nodded at the door. “Sweetie,” she said softly, her insides warming at the soft glow of adoration that reflected from his eyes at the unbidden use of a pet name. “If you want to go in there, I’ll be okay. It’s—”

Spike silenced her with a kiss. “Stayin’ right here,” he murmured. “You’re not gettin’ rid of me that easily, pet.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

“You’re the only person here that I love. An’ like you said, if Donna needs us, she’ll come out.” He tossed a quick glance to the waiting room. “I think she needs some time.” A deep breath rolled off his shoulders. “An’ I think you should be ready.”

“Ready?”

“There’s a chance Red won’ wanna come back with us.”

Buffy licked her lips and tucked her legs under her, taking a sip of her coffee. “Why?”

“Think of everythin’ that happened here tonight, luv. The girl had to wrestle through the bleedin’ airport security, secret service, an’ all that rubbish to get here. She wasn’ with her guy when he needed her.” He shrugged. “Think it’s rather obvious. If it was you, nothin’ in the world could keep me away.”

“If it was you, I’d never have gone back to Sunnydale to begin with.”

Spike smiled warmly. “I know, baby. Me either.”

“It was the right thing to do, though. With as much as she’s been talking the past couple weeks; it would’ve been hell on earth if she had gone back with them.”

“Maybe.”

The Slayer’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe? Spike, we watched coverage of their landing in DC. Josh even had his own little cheering section. The President drove out to greet them. Tell me it wouldn’t have looked bad if a nineteen year old pagan had gotten off the plane with them and mentioned, oh, by the way, I’m doing the Deputy…whatever.”

“If Sam had tried, he could’ve made it work.”

“How?”

“Well, I dunno, by bloody askin’ her?”

A frown crossed her face. “I don’t think…they hadn’t known each other that long—”

“Yeh. An’ been together less than that. Need I remind you what terms we were on when we got to Natchez?”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

Buffy’s eyes widened and she gestured emphatically. “It’s us. We’re us. And we’re different…besides, we had the thing before the Natchez thing that already had me all drooly over you. Willow met Sam while we were there.”

Spike grinned. “Yeh. An’ she loves the wanker, doesn’ she? We had to listen to them exchanging li’l gigglies and spoken sonnets in the airport before we left, remember? ‘F I were in Sam’s shoes, I would’ve gotten on my knees an’ begged her to come home with me.”

“If you were in Sam’s shoes, you wouldn’t be working at the White House.”

“Think so?”

“And you wouldn’t be going out with Willow.”

The vampire eyed her wryly, running his appreciative gaze down her body. How he could find her remotely attractive now, running on less than three hours of sleep, jetlag, and what felt like years away from a shower, was beyond her. Only that she had the most adoring boyfriend in the world and she was a lucky god to have him. “Well,” he drawled, “that much is a bloody given.”

Buffy flushed, which felt strange under the circumstances, not to mention the wealth of what they had shared. She felt her insides couldn’t stop shaking. That sick feeling that had been rumbling in her stomach since Willow’s panic attack on the plane had yet to dissolve. The night stunk of death and made her feel about as helpless as she had ever felt. Even when Giles had worked with the Council to remove her powers for her eighteenth birthday rite, she had been able to get stuff accomplished. There were no bad guys that she could go after. No demons to slay. The monsters that had fired on her friends tonight were human. If Josh died, it would be a crime of man against man.

That in itself was something she was almost sure Spike wanted to point out, as an ever-persistent activist for equal demon rights…or something. She was grateful and a little proud that he had yet to mention it.

“I know we just arrived,” she said a minute later, voice sounding distant even to her own ears. “But we can’t stay. Not like this.”

Spike took her hand and squeezed gently. “I know, baby,” he replied. “There’s no tellin’ when they’ll open up the airports, though. We might be grounded for a while.”

“They will after the signal man is caught.”

“We can’t know when that’ll be.”

Buffy shrugged. “I figure it’ll either be now or never. This kid’s…from what I heard from Toby…the kid’s a, well, kid. Fifteen years old or so. God, maybe even younger. Either he’ll disappear into some arcade or he’ll be found right off the bat. Get cocky and clumsy or…something.”

“You’re underestimatin’ your own country’s ability to find a prat that doesn’ even have his driver’s license yet?”

“This is the same country that decided it would be a good idea to start kidnapping vampires and fitting them with government chips, remember?”

“Point taken. I’m jus’ sayin’, this thing wasn’t orchestrated by criminal masterminds. Couple kids bustin’ caps? There’s no way the bloke’ll get far.”

She hoped he was right. This sensation of uselessness was making her feel as weak as she ever had. Even before she was called. Not being able to help someone was about the worst feeling in the world. The sooner this was over, the better.

For so many reasons.

“We can’t go anywhere until Curly is out of surgery anyway,” Spike said softly.

“I know. I wouldn’t even if…” She shook her head. “I just…it makes more sense to me when I’m…Josh was shot and we couldn’t do anything.”

“I know.”

“He was shot. I mean, he’s an arrogant jackass, but he…he helped us save the world. He…he was shot. The last time we saw him, he was fine.” She began to break at that, tears from nowhere bubbling over the surface. A torrent of emotion that had been lingering in the back of her mind. That knowledge that never strayed from the spotlight. “Just a few hours ago, we were on our way to see him and…and he was fine.”

The next thing she knew, Spike had practically hauled her into his lap, carefully setting her cooling coffee aside and urging her head to pillow at his shoulder. “Shhh,” he murmured gently, brushing a kiss across her brow. “These things happen, pet.”

“People get shot at?”

“Well, yeh.”

“I like Sunnydale. They don’t have guns.”

He chuckled and kissed her again. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Which?”

“Either. Demons jus’ typically like knives or what all. Jus’ seems more intimidatin’ than a gun.” He ran a comforting hand across her head, tugging lovingly on her sloppy ponytail. “’Sides, we were in SunnyD for a total of two bloody weeks an’ you were itchin’ to get out.”

“So?”

“So, if this hadn’t happened, you’d be havin’ a right good ole time. People get shot at, sweetling, an’ people who’re in office are bloody easy targets. Trust me, I’ve seen a few of these. Even heard tale when Lincoln was killed.” He shrugged when she looked up in surprise. “Word reached us even across the bloody world, without the use of the telly, even.”

“There was actually light in the world prior to TV?”

“I prefer to call it the Dark Ages.” Spike released another sigh and rested his cheek atop her crown, squeezing her tighter. “It can’t be too much longer now,” he said. “These doctors are entrusted with the bloody President.”

“Yeah. But the President…his…the First Lady said it was a superficial wound. Josh…”

“I know.”

“I just—”

He kissed her again, his eyes fluttering shut at the contact. “I know. ‘S okay, sweetheart.”

His voice told her a different story, but she decided not to pursue it. Instead, Buffy nodded against his shirt and snuggled into him, battling the wearing fatigue that threatened to cart her away completely.

It already seemed they had been waiting for years. That fortitude she so relied on was gone. That safeguard she had as the Slayer.

Spike was with her, though. It was hard to remember a time when he hadn’t been. He was holding her now. Keeping her grounded when she needed someone to hold onto. Holding her in the midst of a long wait when no one knew how things would look at the other end of the tunnel.

Holding her to her reality as the world’s crashed around them.

*~*~*

“It was what?”

Sam released a long sigh as he rose to his feet, reluctantly releasing Willow’s hand and tossing a glance to Donna. He had just come from the back where the President was recuperating after surgery. The family had been notified first; then Sam, whose job was to relay everything back to the White House, though he couldn’t help himself from stopping to tell those who were waiting for word on Josh. It seemed cruel and unusual, especially when Donna looked to be seconds away from breaking. “CJ will be announcing it in her briefing,” he said. “Right now, it’s only us.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It was Charlie.” Donna looked up at that, her eyes wide. The Deputy Communications Director cleared his throat and redirected his gaze to a more comforting spot on the floor. “Charlie and Zoey. The shooters were a part of an organization called West Virginia White Pride. They were shooting because of Zoey…and Charlie.”

Willow stared at him a minute longer, her eyes filling with tears. Tears that had no sure target; it was just a night for crying. “Oh my God.”

“They tried to kill the President because Zoey and Charlie are adults and…don’t care about stupid things like skin color?” Donna asked, numb. “They shot Josh because Charlie’s black?”

Sam bit his lip. “No.”

“No? But—”

“It wasn’t the President they were after. They were there to…” An uncomfortable pause settled through the room. Sam shifted after a second before casting the two a regretful glance. “I have to go,” he said. “CJ needs some help with the language, and Toby’s about to crucify himself over this thing.”

“What thing?” the redhead asked.

“Why there wasn’t a tent over the President when he left the building.” At her blank look, he shrugged again. Brushing off any candor that would suggest that keeping what he was about to tell her to himself. Tonight was not about rules, especially among those who loved each other. “Right after the President was sworn in, Toby and I sat in on a meeting where we decided it was more…something or…something if he didn’t walk out under a tent. So Toby wrote a memo and the President signed it. And now people are asking questions.”

“Oh.”

“Secret service doesn’t comment on procedure,” Mrs. Landingham said wisely from the back of the room.

“I know,” Sam replied. “And Toby knows. It’s just…we did this thing and now—”

“It wasn’t your fault, Sam,” Donna admonished.

“I—”

Willow clutched at his hand tightly. “Sam, it wasn’t your fault. Or Toby’s.”

A pause. “I know. But my best friend is just inches away from dying…and if we hadn’t—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Mrs. Landingham said. “The President won’t like to hear you’ve been talking like this, Sam. You don’t want me to get you into trouble, do you?”

At that, a grin tickled his lips. “No, ma’am.”

“Good. Now get going.”

He nodded and brushed a kiss over Willow’s lips. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t worry about me. We’re fine.” She seized Donna’s hand and squeezed. “We’re both fine. We’ll…it’s just…”

Another sharp nod. “I’ll be back soon,” he said again. Then he was gone, and it was just the three of them in the waiting room. Charlie and Zoey were with the First Lady and the President. Leo was back at the White House as was Toby and CJ, and now Sam. There was some talk of movement in Iraq and Willow knew she had heard some news program discussing the twenty-fifth amendment and who was in charge of the country right now.

There was so much policy involved. It made Willow’s stomach ache.

“Are Buffy and Spike still here?” Donna asked softly.

“Yeah. They’re just outside, I think. I can feel them.” She licked her lips. “I know this is…they’re probably talking about this, and it makes sense. Staying right now…with what’s happened…they’ll need to get back to Sunnydale.” A deep breath rolled off her lips. “Donna…before we left, I put in an application to Georgetown University.”

The blonde froze, staring at her. “What?”

“I…I love Sam. And being away from him for just…it was awful. But tonight? I couldn’t get to him when I wanted to. I couldn’t…I couldn’t be here when…” She shuddered and shook her head. “I never want to feel like this again.”

“You’re coming to Georgetown?”

She nodded. “If I get accepted.”

“Willow?” A slow, steady grin had sprouted across the blonde’s face, rolling back the worry that had settled there. Lifting her up in ways it seemed nothing could tonight. “Oh, this is so fantastic. I can’t…oh, thank you.”

Before she knew what was happening, Donna had tugged her into her arms. “Thank you,” she said again.

Willow smiled in spite of herself. “I’m glad you’re glad.”

“I’m more than glad. Why didn’t you say anything to Sam?”

“I didn’t want to say I was moving and then…especially tonight. It seemed…” She shook her head. “I haven’t even told Buffy yet. Or Giles. Or, hell, even my parents. I have no idea how they’ll react to this.” A pause. “And honestly? I don’t know how I’ll react to it…when it actually happens. Right now it’s just a decision. When I’m actually in the process of packing it up and leaving…Buffy and Xander are my best friends in the world. It’s going to hurt like hell to be without them. I dunno…there’s every chance I’ll go running back after two weeks.”

Sad thing was, she wasn’t joking. She felt better leaving Buffy on the Hellmouth than she did leaving Sam in DC. Buffy could take care of herself; Sam could in theory, but he wasn’t superman. Buffy was a god. She would be there for centuries. She wouldn’t be taken out by a bullet. And she had Spike.

Xander…God, she didn’t want to leave Xander. That would hurt more than anything. But Xander also had Anya. Willow had her friends, yes, but she didn’t have Sam. And despite the circumstances, she felt more complete now—sitting in the waiting room of GW Memorial—than she had since the trials in Natchez had ended.

That plus the happiness in Donna’s eyes, jaded as it was, was more than worth it. If nothing else, this moment sold her completely. Making a woman who was on the edge of losing the man she loved smile in the midst of it all…that was an amazing feeling.

But nothing could quite top the rush that seized her veins when the back door opened, Abbey Bartlet stepping in. Her worried demeanor did not betray her cool, quiet grace. There was something in her eyes, though. Something that spoke for everything even before the words touched the air.

Three small words that meant everything.

“Josh is awake.”

TBC