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Authors Chapter Notes:
I've been writing this one for a few months--I have ten chapters written, so if all goes well, I'll be updating every week. Many thanks to Sotia for beta reading and just generally being awesome. Oh--and in case you were wondering (as it seems to just be a British expression)--the title comes from the idiom: something you say to describe a situation in which there are as many advantages as there are problems. I hope you enjoy. :)


Swings and Roundabouts

Prologue


“Buffy? Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Buffy stared blankly at the wall. She didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to hear her mom say the words again. Angel’s dead.

“Buffy? Say something, sweetie,” Joyce pleaded. “Let me know that you understand.”

I get it, Mom. He’s dead. I heard you the first time. I just don’t want to believe it.

“Hank, she’s not answering. She’s just staring…” Her mom’s voice was worried, but Buffy didn’t care. She had been enveloped by a crushing numbness and couldn’t—didn’t want to—feel anything.

“She’s in shock.”

Duh, Dad.

“Come on now, honey.” Her mom tried to put her arm around her, as though that would make her feel better. “I know you’re hurting, but you have to let us know how you feel. The shock could harm the…” Joyce broke off with a sob, and at this, Buffy turned to look at her, surprised that her mom would cry for Angel. She’d never liked him.

Her dad hugged her mom to his chest, and Buffy looked away. She didn’t want to watch him comfort her. Not when…

Joyce sniffed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I shouldn’t break down like that. It’s just… the thought of your poor baby, growing up without its daddy—”

Buffy shook her head, the numbness growing. “It’s okay, mom. The baby will have a father.”

“What?” Joyce frowned, dabbing at the corner of her eye with a tissue. “Buffy, you understand, don’t you? Angel’s dead. He’s not coming back.”

Buffy laughed, feeling slightly hysterical. “I know that, mom. I’ve just decided I’m not keeping it. The baby. So it will have a dad. And a mom.” She shrugged. “That’s all.”

***

Chapter One

Ten Years Later

“Now, you be good for your grandad, all right?” William ‘Spike’ Giles hugged his daughter to him. “And Dad, you’ll be okay?”

“Yes, William.” Rupert Giles sighed, and smiled good-naturedly. “This isn’t the first time you’ve left her with us, you know.”

“I know,” Spike said. “It’s just—”

“You worry.”

“Yeah.” Spike nodded. “Even now.”

“I understand, son.” Rupert picked up one of the suitcases, and moved towards the front door. “Are you going to be all right? I know how hard these trips are for you.”

Spike closed his eyes, not wanting to think about what he was doing, or what he would do when he arrived back in L.A. “I’m fine. It’s—it’s something I need to do. Need to have that moment, to remember, you know?”

“Oh yes,” his father replied, and waved as he saw Jenny Calendar walking up the drive. “Even now, I visit your mother quite often.” He inclined his head towards Jenny and smiled. “It’s okay to move on, William.”

“Dad…”

“All right, I won’t meddle,” Rupert said, as he greeted Jenny with a kiss. “But I worry about you. And Claire. Now, do you have everything?”

“Is Rupert nagging you again, Will?” Jenny pecked Spike on the cheek. “Honestly, he’s like an old woman.”

“Yes, thank you.” The older man sighed. “Let’s all make fun of mad old Rupert.”

There was a giggle from the living room, and Claire poked her head around the doorway. “I don’t think you’re mad, Grandad.”

“Thank you, dear.” Rupert smiled, and beckoned Claire over. “Say goodbye to your father.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

Spike tried not to let his daughter see how much the goodbye affected him, so he hugged her close and swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he stepped back and picked up his bag.

“All right then. See you next week.”

***

Spike slipped his passport back into his pocket and smiled at the girl behind the desk. “Thanks.”

“I’d love to go to L.A., I would,” she said, fixing the baggage claim label around Spike’s suitcase. “Bet you see all sorts of famous people. Are you going for anything nice?” She handed him his boarding pass, a flirtatious smile on her face.

Spike shrugged. “Going to visit my wife.”

“Oh.” Her smile fell. “Well, have a nice time.”

“Thanks.” Spike turned and walked towards the bookshop. He’d need something to keep himself occupied on the flight.

***

The flight had been as long and as boring as he’d expected, but Spike had managed to keep his mind off the upcoming weekend by immersing himself in the criminal exploits of Louisa and Leo, stars of the cheap paperback he’d bought at the airport.

Now, as he stepped into the lift at his hotel, he wanted nothing more than to get something to eat, call home, then crash until the following afternoon. And then he’d go and visit Dru.

Once in his room, he pulled off his clothes and stepped into the shower, relishing the warmth of the spray that soothed his aching muscles. He massaged shampoo into his hair, hating the generic hotel-soap smell, but not having the energy or the inclination to unpack his case and find his own.

Every year, this same ritual. The same hotel—hell, he had a feeling this was even the same room as the year before. He knew that his dad was right; he had to let go, move on, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t remember her, in his own way.

It wasn’t healthy. Normal people visited the graves of their loved ones every so often. Laid flowers at the headstone, perhaps said a few words in memory, and then moved on. Spike had never heard of anyone else spending the whole night in the cemetery, standing vigil over their dead wife’s grave, with only a bottle of Jack for company.

Spike shook his head and chuckled self-deprecatingly. At least he was able to admit that it was an insane thing to do.

Wrapping the hotel robe around himself, he moved back into the bedroom and picked up the handset of the cordless phone.

After calling room service, he checked his watch, deemed that six a.m. in England wasn’t too early for a phone call, and dialled home.

“Hel—” His father’s greeting was interrupted by a yawn. “Excuse me. Hello?”

“Dad, it’s me.”

“William. Ah, so you’ve arrived then?”

“Yeah,” Spike replied. “Just about to get a bite to eat and then it’s off to the land of nod for me. How’s Claire?”

“She’s fine. Still asleep,” Rupert said. “As it is still exceedingly early.”

“Sorry.” There was a knock on the door, and he padded over to let room service in. He gestured to the desk in the corner, and the bell boy set a tray down before retreating from the room silently. “Anyway, I was just calling to let you know that I survived the flight. Tell Claire hello, and that I love her.”

“Of course. Jenny’s thinking of taking her to the cinema this afternoon.” Rupert paused. “You’ll look after yourself, won’t you, William?”

“Yeah, Dad.” Spike rolled his eyes. “You won’t be getting a drunken phone call at three a.m. this year, don’t worry.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Bye, Dad.” Spike grinned, and shook his head as he pressed the end call button on the phone. His father would win the first place trophy in a nagging competition, but Spike knew he was right.

He had to break the unhealthy ritual of drinking himself blind at Dru’s graveside at some point.

Tomorrow, then. Turn a new leaf, and all that rot.

That decided, he hurriedly ate the pasta he’d ordered, shrugged out of his robe, and fell into bed.

-TBC-


Chapter End Notes:
Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you thought in a review. :)




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