Sara was for him a blessing. He didn’t understand how his years of killing could still allow for him to feel such happiness as he did with her. Though, he missed Buffy, he learnt to live without her as years went by. As did Buffy, but not a day went by when they didn’t think of each other. Sara never told Spike that Buffy loved him. It was not her love to declare. A part of her ached for them to be close as they used to be, but she knew it would be like sending Buffy to hell to ask her to talk and laugh and be with Spike knowing she could not BE with him.

Sara too was unaware of Buffy’s whearabouts, but in the unusual ways of her father, she guessed that he had an idea. She left it, as things are meant to be left and life went on.

~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~*~*

Two years after their graduation. Two years since Buffy left.

Buffy munched on a croissant as she finished the last pile of marking that she had to do. Working as a teacher had seemed painfully unsuited to her personality, but when the bills need to be paid you can do pretty crazy stuff. 

To everyone’s surprise she flourished. Her classes were famed for their top grades and happy atmosphere. The kids loved her and the parents loved her in turn. Dawn was doing well, almost insanely happy with the move. Giles was Giles, he insisted on using the substantial sum sent from the Watcher’s Council Pension plan to support himself, Buffy and Dawn.

Her friends still tried to get her to talk to Spike, but he was in her past. She didn’t want to get herself tangles in things like that anymore. This was her new life and dusty memories had no place it in.

Except in her head.

And her heart.

And her thoughts.

And her dreams.

But that’s it.

~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~~********~~~~~~~~~~~

At this same time, on the 2nd Anniversary of Spike and Sara’s marriage, they received a very special gift from Willow. The gift of one child. One night where conception was possible. And they took it. Spike couldn’t believe that this was even possible, but it was. Sara’s growing belly was proof of that.

Clothes and toys and bottles and hats and gloves and brushes and baby tubs and a pram were all bought. One of their rooms was converted into a nursery and the months leading to the delivery were filled with thankfulness and blessings. Most of all, anticipation. Around seven and a half months Spike started showing classic signs of vampire ‘nesting’. Sara was fussed over and kept in the house, his game face was practically ever present and he wouldn’t leave Sara alone for longer than a few minutes. She was agitated with the stifling, but his love and intentions were so blatantly adorable, she hadn’t the heart to tell him to cut it out.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~****~***********

Two weeks before the set birth-date.

“NO!!!!”

Willow grasped at the plain air. The demon was gone. And in its wake was the choice. Revenge against Spike for going against demon kind. Either Sara or the baby. Not both. Couldn’t have both. Willow would have to say something.

Cursed.

They were cursed.

So much happiness taken away by a demon with a grudge. Sara or the baby.

Willow fumbled at the door to the hospital room. She had gone to Spike and Sara’s home straight from the airport, but they weren’t in. One of the maids had told her that Sara had started feeling pangs in her belly and they had had to take her to the hospital. Willow felt bile rise in her throat. Sara or the baby.

Spike smiled as Willow entered the room. Her face was pale, but she still looked beautiful. The redhead hugged him and asked how Sara was. Spike turned to look at the wonderful soul that was his wife. She was sleeping.

“The doctor is going to talk to us in a little while.”

“Is it serious?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s Peter?”

“He’s doing the classic worrying act, its kinda funny watching him go from Dean to Dad every few seconds.”

“Where is he?”

“Waiting room.”

“Oh.”

Spike shrugged and walked to the window. Willow watched as he held his head in his hands, and she saw his shoulders tense as he yet again held back tears of worry. It had been a long time since Sara had been brought to the hospital.

“Hey,” Willow’s voice was hushed, her hand on his back, “Why don’t you go take a walk or get something to eat. I’d like to be with Sara for a bit.”

Nodding, he kissed her cheek and left the room, glancing at Sara fleetingly.

Willow took a deep breath and her face deflated with sadness. Tears started streaming down her face and she tried in vain to silence herself.

“Will?”

“Sa-,” Willow swallowed the frog in her throat and continued, “Sara!”

“Why were you crying?”

“I…uhm…I was just worried.”

“Willow, what’s happening to me?”

So Willow told her. And Sara, like the strong woman she was, did not cry. She nodded and sighed. But no tears.

“Well, of course it will be the baby over me. ”

Willow bit her lip. She couldn’t argue.

“I don’t want William to know.”

Willow nodded, mute.

“Tell the doctor not to tell him, he must not know. It will kill him if he has to wait for it all to happen.”

Willow opened her mouth to protest, but she was cut off.

“I’m sorry Willow, that is what I want. Please respect that.”

Again, Willow nodded.

“It’s sad to think my baby won’t know me.”

“Oh, Oh, Sara, she will. We’ll tell her all about you…and- ” Willow’s words were ugly and matted with her regenerated tears. “We’ll show her pictures and your paintings and drawings and Sara, Spike, he’ll keep you more alive than any of us.”

Sara smiled, and nodded.

“I need to sleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, Willow. Don’t be sorry. It is by you that me and Spike are bringing something so special into the world, do not be sorry for our baby’s existence.”

~**~**~*~**~**~*~*~**~**~*~*~*~~*~**~~*~*

“She’s fine, as is the baby.”

“Oh, Oh, wow.” Spike let out a breath he didn’t need and hugged Sara.

“She will have to stay in the hospital, just in case. The baby could come right this second for all we know, and we really need her to be here the second her labour starts.”

“Make sure you get the drugs.” Anya supplied energetically. “Hallie was a-”

“Ssh, Ahn.” Xander, still the goofy man of the group, hushed his wife who shrugged and smiled at Sara.

Willow tried to smile, but the doctor’s false hopes were going to have no happy ending, she knew. He thought it was possible to save them both. Willow knew it wasn’t. She had tried and tried, but the curse upon Sara was irreversible. The redhead looked towards the mother-to-be and her heart ached as she saw that Sara was smiling with joy and rubbing her tummy, talking about a future that existed in the stars.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*

A week of nothing went by. Sara seemed to prefer to sleep a lot, but other times she would be wheeled around the floor, or if she was lucky, outside. She was visited and gossiped to, no one noticing, the surreal way her eyes seemed to be memorising them.

Willow was positively sick. She had been throwing up almost everyday and her heart ached with such force, she felt crippled and cried herself to sleep.

Sara was radiant, glowing in an almost heavenly way as Spike had said.

The world was tilting and Willow knew with some sort of sick sixth sense when Sara would go into labour. Her head turned to the door a few seconds before the nurse walked into the cafe telling them that Sara had just been rushed into the delivery room.

It was all quite fast really, Willow mused, half an hour later.

~*****~*****~********~********~*********~********

“…. she has an indefinite amount of time left. Perhaps another half hour at the most. She is very weak, but she wants to see you. I’m sorry.”

Spike froze. His heart felt heavier than it had ever felt in his entire existence. He felt as if all his internal organs were merging into each other and shoving themselves in his head.

He stepped into the room. It was white, the sun streaming across the room and resting across her beautiful face. She smiled at him, her eyes still holding the sparkle he lived for.

“I hate you.” The words slipped from his mouth the second he saw her.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t cry. He simply sat on the bed beside her.

“She’s beautiful, William. Hold her.”

Spike stood and walked to the cradle holding his baby girl. He picked her to his breast and felt her heartbeat move through his body like she was claiming him as her father.

“Her name is Elizabeth.”

Spike stilled, he remembered Buffy again. But now was not the time to think of her. He gently put Elizabeth back in the crib and walked back to Sara. Feeling as though her work was done, she laid her head against the pillow and took his hand.

They sat silently together for a minute or so before Spike choked out a half-hearted,

 “I hate you.”

And then the tears came.

“Ssh.”

He cradled himself against Sara’s still-beating body and sobbed. It was an ugly, deformed sound that sounded the utmost of agony. Slowly, the tears held back for the time being and again, they were plunged in silence, his head against her breast, her hands, stroking his hair and blowing gently on his forehead.

 “I love you.” He whispered, his voice hoarse.

“And I love you.” She smiled and then winced slightly. “I have to tell you some things Spike. Please listen to me. I love you; I’ve loved you since you made my sketches fall on the floor that day before class. Never believe that you are not worthy. Your vampire days are in your past. You need to believe that you are in the light, Spike, if you want our baby to believe it too. Look after her, make sure she remembers me.” She put her fingers over his lips as he started to protest that their child would remember her mother every single day.

“When I found out this would happen, I wrote her some letters. One for each birthday and one for graduation. There are 20 here.  Please give them to her, read them to her, one each year. Let her read them in private when she learns to read and understand. And most of all, Spike, Promise me you will move forward. Forget the demon that did this, it will put poison in your heart and hold you back. Don’t hold yourself in the times of just you and me, live and be happy.”

“I can’t do this without you, Sara.”

“Yes, you can. Remember that you are not a monster. I know I will see you again because I know you will come to heaven. I love you.”

He kissed her, one last time and she cradled him again, while he cried for her, for the pain. After a little while, he became aware that the heartbeat he had considered his own was no longer there.

He lay there for many hours after that. Clinging to the lifeless body beneath him. Crying, talking, pleading in the vain hope she would come back. When Elizabeth woke, and cried, he went to her. When he held her to his heart that day, he found a new heartbeat to live for.

--Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything
I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that
I tried to hold on to--

~~*~***~*~**~~~~~~*~*~*~*~*~**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC

Eight years passed. Sara would have been thirty-two. Time, as it has a habit of doing, healed his pain. He thought about her, every day in fact – but it no longer hurt him to remember. He had told Elizabeth everything about her mother, Sara’s drawings hung in all corners of the house, her pictures filled many frames – a stranger would not have known that the glowing woman that seemed like such a presence – was in reality, passed on long ago.

Liz was a very bright girl; she took after her mother (and her father as Spike tried to convey – in vain). Her eyes were Sara’s, but her mischievous spirit was Spike’s and his alone. The passion within the father seemed to almost double in his child and it could not be said that their home was ever boring.

Buffy was forgotten, it pained him to think she too, had left the earth, but how many slayers lived to thirty-two? Willow had tried to soothe his fears by reminding him that since a new slayer had been called at Faith’s death, Buffy may have been able to retire almost four years ago. Many had said that friendships fade away, but Spike had been so sure they had more than a friendship – that they were closer than that.

But perhaps he had been wrong. She had left after all, and never contacted him. He had wondered about curses or spells that would drive her away, angry and indignant at the thought that someone would try to separate them – but that bittersweet hope was thrown to the wind over time and Spike slowly forgot what shade of blonde her hair was and how exactly her nose wrinkled in distaste.

Liz was his everything, what else did he have to live for? They were adorable close, almost eerily in sync and undoubtedly loved each other. Liz knew everything about him, when he was born, his family, his turning date, his vampire family – everything. Spike was slowly trying to introduce the idea that he regretted his evil vampire days

 

She called Angel grand-sire, which made him at first, irritated but at the identical looks of glee and suppressed laughter on William and Liz’s faces – he relented. 

Haile and Poppy, Anya and Xander’s children, had grown, Haile a bubbling 10 year old and Poppy a passionate 5-year old. It was quite worrying how they had both taken after Anya. Haile was blunt and cheery while ‘Mr and Mrs Harris’ had been called in multiple times because of Poppy’s little acts of vengeance on the other kids. Anya, needless to say, was very proud.

~~****~******~~~~~***~~~~~~****~~~~***~~~~~~~~

“Happy Birthday to you, even if you ‘smell-like-poo’, Happy birthday you little freak, Happy birthday to you.”

Liz stuck her tongue out at her Dad and blew out the candles on the cake.

“YAY!!”

“Happy birthday sweetie!” Willow hugged the bouncy little girl in front of her. Liz’s hair was short and black, her skin a beautiful brown and her eyes a merge of green brown and blue. They were her most prominent asset, luring and piercing, like her father and mother’s eyes had been. She had a strong chin for a little girl of eight and a quick mind that made her ‘the smartest bloody bit in the world’.

She was glad for Willow’s books, Angel and Cordelia’s writing set with a ‘Liz’ signature stamp, Anya and Xander’s computer game, Haile’s gross but nicely intended make-up set, Dad’s drawing pencils and canvas – but what she really wanted….

“Here’s your letter baby.”

“Oohhh!! Merci beaucoup Papa!!”

Spike smiled and handed Liz the white envelope with ‘Age Eight’ in Sara’s rusty handwriting. After a quick hug, Liz raced upstairs and settled herself for the letter.

--I think about you everyday--

~Dear Elizabeth,

The letter was long, detailed, and included everything that Sara’s experience had allowed her to see.

~So you see, my love, she loved him very much. I have no doubt she still does, but to her, he was a lost cause. It broke my heart to see her leave and it hurt me more to see the years go by and Spike still searching for her. Slowly he gave up, and to this day, I doubt he knows the truth.

Your mother, Sara.~

--I turned left - but you turned right
only one way roads on this stretch of life
we can't back up or turn back time
you're out of sight - not out of mind
but you made a choice - wave goodbye
I'm not turning back….--

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC

Buffy. Sounded weird.

But her mother had said it was the right thing to do. Liz began to realise that her mother was right.

*Dad never does anything except work and hang out with me. When I’m at my friend’s house – he calls Willow, grandsire, granddad or draws. I don’t want him to feel lonely*

Another person? Liz, Daddy and Buffy. Did it fit?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

A week or so went by, Liz read the letter again and started noticing her dad more. Even though her mother was gone, Sara was correct about Spike. He lived for nothing except Liz. He didn’t have a hobby, he didn’t read or have a favourite TV show or try new things unless he was sharing it with Liz. The thought hurt her heart and she decided, if this Buffy person was good enough, she would be very good for her daddy.

It was when she made this decision that she begun her plan.

“DDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDYYYYYYYYY!”

Spike smiled as his daughter flung herself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

He couldn’t believe how she had grown from that frail bundle in his arms to this – an energetic, vibrant girl who was full of life enough for the both of them.

After Sara’s death, Spain was no longer bearable. The culture, the places, the smell, and the art – everything seemed to remind him of her, and though he wanted Liz to experience her Spanish heritage, he had to move. His transfer took him to France on the outskirts of Paris where he ran a large and very successful art gallery in memory of Joyce. He was an avid member of the European art auctions and his life was bustling enough to overshadow his inner solitude. Watching Liz grow, everyday was a new adventure. The not-so-much-a-vampire-anymore-vampire found that fatherhood was an indescribable experience and one that, he felt, required all his time.

“How was your day, Liz?”

“It was GREAT!” Liz plopped down on the kitchen chair and watched as Spike moved from cabinet to cabinet preparing her snack.

“Mes amis me do-”

“Anglais s’il te plait. - English, you know I want you to practice that at home, I’m not satisfied with the way they teach it.”

Liz rolled her eyes, French was so natural for her, but she felt comfortable in English, her Dad had made sure that she understood and could speak both and her grand-dad was helping her with her Spanish.

“My friends gave me a new nickname today! I am no longer Liz! Liz is in the past!”

Spike grinned and smeared the peanut butter over the bread.
“What’s this new monstrosity of a name then?”

“DAD! Your nickname is SPIKE!”

“No one calls me that anymore, they stopped calling me that a long time ago. My name is William and continues to be William. That is what everyone calls me. Your mother called me that, your grandsire calls me that-”

“Grand-sire calls you a ‘bloody nuisance’ dad.”

“I don’t want that bloody language in this house!”

Liz stuck her tongue out at her dad and he grinned, putting the plate in front of her.

“Water or apple juice?”

“Actually, I want some carrot juice.”

Liz watched the emotions flicker across her father’s face. He seemed almost to tense up and a barely perceptible shiver flew down his spine. Sara had mentioned in the letter that Buffy insisted on drinking carrot juice made only from Spike’s hand.

“Where’d you hear about that then, ey?”

“Arielle had some for lunch and I really liked it. Do you know how to make it?”

“Yeah, I do, pet.”

Spike smiled and pushed back the unwanted memory that had surged forward after years in the dusty recesses of his mind.

 Liz smiled and waited patiently as her juice was made. It tasted disgusting but she drank it down for the greater good at stake.

“So what’s this new name then?”

“Buffy.” Liz replied nonchalantly taking another bittersweet sip of orange muck.

The reaction was worth it. Her dad’s whole body was immediately wired up, he practically shot out of the kitchen chair and, upon realising his reaction, proceeded to stomp over to the fridge an open it for the purpose of appearing in control.

“Where’d you get that from them, love?”

“My friends and I were just mixing up letters from our names and adding in new ones and we decided Buffy was a good enough name for me. So that’s my name now, Buffy.”

“I knew a Buffy once.” Spike said, almost in a daze.

“REALLY!!” Liz bounced over to the fridge and slammed it shut, peering into his turbulent eyes with her own mature eyes.

“Yes.” Spike answered, quite shocked at how suddenly Buffy had been remembered, how brutally… how comfortingly.

“Was she nice? Was she your friend? Was she pretty? Was she like me?”

Spike smiled fondly, looking upwards as if almost seeing her in a memory.

“She was very nice and strong, a very close friend of mine. Of course she was pretty, I only hung out with pretty girls and yeah, pet, she was a bit like you.”

Liz, if she had been dubious before, was absolutely certain that her Daddy could love this Buffy person. The way his eyes lit up was indication enough, but even then, the tear that was quickly brushed off and replaced with offers of ‘something else to eat’ seemed to speak for itself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC

Buffy smiled as Dawn gaped over yet another ring in the showcase.

“I think I have her approval.”

Buffy smiled warmly at the man speaking, relishing the loving look he was directing at both Dawn and herself.

“She’s been like this for an hour. I just wanted to come in, get a damn ring and go back out again.”

“Not everyone’s as organised as you, baby.”

Brian moved to put his arms round Buffy and she rested her head against his shoulder.

“I love you.”

And Buffy said it. It had taken a long, long time for her to be able to say and mean it, but now she did. She loved Spike, still. In fact, she always would. Just as she would always love Angel. But…she pushed back the annoying part of her mind that told her that while she was over Angel, she would never be over Spike. He was more.

*Emphasis on WAS* Buffy told herself.

Over the years, especially after she retired from slaying at Faith’s death, Buffy had trained herself to forget the bleached blond menace that tormented her actions. It was only recently that she had begun to think about him again. Then again, it was only recently that she had become engaged.

She had met Brian on a night out with some friends. It was so normal. That was what still shocked her. They met in a bar. While both out with mutual friends. It was normal; it was a story you could tell your kids. It was white picket fence.

Ash brown hair and green eyes, Brian was striking to say the least. He had an aura of the calm within the storm. Life was good with him. It was perfect.

“How’s Amy?” he mumbled.

“She’s doing much better. That tuition after school has sorted her out. I’m really glad, her mum was worried about loosing the scholarship.”

“You’re a great teacher – she had nothing to worry about.”

The thought, the fact to some people, made Buffy smile. She was a great teacher and she loved the kids. At first, in the time where Spike was still, well, ‘Just. There.’ she had taken on multitudes of classes, burying herself in work. Slowly, over time, it had become easier to live – there were days were she wouldn’t ache for him. Where she forgot what shade of blonde his hair was.

Now, she taught a few year groups, mainly elementary, some senior ones thrown in for mix. At thirty-two, life was looking up.

Giles, an old man now, was fully retired. Sometimes he wrote journals and lectured watchers-to-be, but for the most part, he read and slept and did all the things that old men tend to do. Dawn, now in her twenties, was in the middle of a medical career, bustling and busy with a passion for helping people. They were heavily integrated into their lives and Buffy felt complete after a long time of feeling halved.

“I think this ring is perfect!” Dawn finally pointed out a simple solitaire and Buffy sighed in relief, practically praising the lord with joy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~~**~~*~*~*~*~*

“This is the number for Rupert Giles. He was-”

“Her watcher, I know.”

“Of course. Well, do you want me to talk to him, or will you?”

“I will.”

Peter’s hands shook and he dialled the number and passed the handset to Liz.

“Hello, Edgewood House.”

“Hello, may I please speak to Mr Giles.”

“Speaking.”

“Hello.”

“I’m sorry, who is this.”

“My name is Elizabeth, Liz. I’m er – Spike’s daughter.”

“Sp-Spike? The uh…”

“Yes, Spike or William. My mum’s name is Sara.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry if this is a shock to you, but I would very much like to meet Buffy Summers.”

“Has Sp- your father asked you to call?”

“No. He doesn’t know where you are. My granddad gave me this number.”

“I see. I’m not quite sure what to say.”

“My mother, Sara, died when I was born. She wrote me letters, to let me know her. She mentioned Buffy and how she loved my dad and I think that he could love her back now. He is lonely, you see, Mr Giles.”

Her innocence radiated through, a determination that her father had the ability for, but unlike him, her innocent determination was not ‘cynicised’.

“Elizabeth-”

“Liz.”

“Liz, things are quite a lot more complicated than you imagine.”

“I don’t want Buffy Summers to know about this either. Please Mr Giles, tell me how I can get to know her a little before I try and get my dad to find her.”

“I’m not quite sure at all what to do.”

Peter, unable to restrain himself much longer, took the receiver from Liz and spoke.

“Mr Giles? My name is Peter Restrepo. Sara was my daughter as I’m sure you see Buffy as yours. This was her last wish for the man she loved very much. Please help Liz to carry this through. At least give us a contact number, we can make up a story, we just wanted to try at least. For Sara.”

Giles sighed, his thoughts a jumble of contradictions. It was nearly 10 years now. Things change. Vampires change? But inside, the ex-watcher knew Spike would not change – especially not with a child to care for. A child – that was a mystery to be later discovered.

“She is a teacher at Midbrook Elementary. You can call her there in an hour or so.”

Giles found and gave the number, unsure of whether to mention Brian or anything else, all of the changes and so, so many questions.

“I’m sure you have as many questions as I, Mr Giles. I would love to talk to you more if you would like?”

“I think that would be a good idea Dean Restrepo.”

“Peter, please.”

“Rupert, likewise.”

The conversation was over. A bridge of 10 years beginning to heal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC

“Buffy?”

Buffy turned away from the class and smiled at the receptionist. “Yes, Marge?”

“Phone call for you.”

“Oh, right.” Buffy smiled and walked toward the office, hoping to hear Brian’s voice at the other end of the line.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Buffy Summers?”

“Yes?”

“My name is William Vinnier.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I’m interested in sending my daughter Liz to the school an I heard you were the one to talk to.”

“Oh, hello. How old is Liz?”

“Eight years old, I think that would be your grade three.”

“Yes, I teach that year at the moment. Well, we are just finishing the year right now. We are still receiving admission information for some of the kids for next year, so you are just in time. There are two classes of thirteen each, and I teach one of them. The other grade three teacher is Mrs Forthright, she and I both came to the school in the same year and we’ve been here for nearly 9 years now.”

“It is good to know that the teachers are experienced. Is there a way in which Liz could have a sort of ‘trainee’ day, just to see if she likes the school?”

“Actually, we have a summer camp coming up in two weeks. It’s called ‘Camp Horwood’ and it lasts for 5 weeks and it provides an opportunity for the kids to feel a little more independent, get to know the teachers, their classmates and some of the subject material for the next term. It is not actually at the school, we go up to a lovely part of the countryside where the camp has been built, there are cabins and a beautiful lake and activities are always in abundant quantities.”

“That sounds perfect, I think Liz would really like that.”

“That’s great, and we do need some parents around to help us out so if you feel that you would prefer to come with her, that’s fine, there are places for the teachers and parents at the camp too. But it is a very safe location, there will be a member of staff and a parent per seven children.”

“That sounds great, where can I sign us up and get some more information?”

“I can send you an information pack if you would like?”

“That would be great.”

“Alright, let me just grab a pen.”

Peter took the seconds that Buffy found a pen to breathe. It was nice to speak to her again, but she also reminded him of the times when his daughter was the most vibrant in her life.

*Push it away Peter, this is what Sara wants and what Spike deserves. You’re an old fool and far too weak*

“Hello?”

“Yes, Ms Summers?”

“Can I take your address?”

“Of course. 6719 rue Capprai, Manté, Paris, France.”

“Wow, France!”

“Yes, it is a beautiful place, it will be sad to leave it.”

“I can imagine, but sometimes a new start can prove to be a wonderful change.”

“I hope that will be the case.”

“Me too. Ok, well, I’ll get our info package in the mail to you and I hope to meet you and Liz at Camp Horwood.”

“Thank you and I’m sure we will see you, Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Liz…”

“Abuelo, Vamos a ir para conocer Buffy.”

“Muchacha, no podemos ir sin hablar con tu padre.”

“Abueeeloooooooooooooooo. Tenemos que ir!!!”

Peter sighed. Liz wanted to go to the camp and meet Buffy…. without Spike.

“Granddad, what if she’s changed into someone really awful and I hate her? I just want to get to know her before we let Dad see her again.”

“He’ll be worried to death if we just leave, Liz.”

“We can leave him a note telling him we are safe and I’ll call him and you’ll be with me!! Pleeeeaaaassssseeeeeeeeeee.”

“Liz, let me think about it. We have two weeks.”

Liz sulked and slouched to her room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Bonjour Papa!”

“Anglais.”

“Hey Dad.”

“That’s better. Hey princess.”

William picked her up and carried her into their plush sitting room.

“Dad, I’m too old for you to carry.”

“No your not.” he argued adamantly.

Liz giggled as he dumped her on the amply cushioned settee. With a decidedly ‘Spike’ glint in his eye, he proceeded to tickle her senseless.

“DDDDDDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

William giggled as they settled themselves in a comfortable heap.

“Where’s your granddad?”

“He’s taking a nap. I think me and Haile wore him out.”

“I’m sure you did, Did Anya pick her up?”

“No, it was Uncle Xander.”

“Ok, well that’s good. Your granddad will need his energy for tonight.”

“Why?”

“Angel and Cordelia are flying in for a night and they’ll be staying here.”

 

“GRANDSIRE!!!”

William grinned. “Yeah, he’s got some demon business to take care of in Italy and he decided it could wait a night so he could visit his favourite little girl in the world.”

“I wonder what he’s got me.”

Spike grinned. Liz was truly a girl after his own heart. Angel always bought her the best gifts when he visited and Cordelia, the best clothes.

“Isn’t Auntie Willow coming next week?”

“No, her trip was extended, she’s not sure when she’ll next be in France.”

“Oh.” Liz was disappointed she wouldn’t be able to see her favourite auntie before leaving for the camp. Though, she loved her aunt Cordelia (Cordy refused to have a grand-anything in front of her name), she saw Willow more often and anyway, Willow was much better with kids.

“Hey, its ok. She’ll probably only be another week or two.”

Liz grinned and kissed her dad on the cheek. “Ok. I’m gonna go finish my holiday work before grandsire and aunt Cordelia arrive.”

“Need any help?”

“Its ok, its English.”

“Alright then.” Spike smiled with pride as she leaped off his lap and into her bedroom.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I’m not sure I can pick you up from the camp, honey.”

Buffy turned from the kitchen counter and frowned at Brian. “Why?”

“Mr Mitchell just told me I need to be at the seminar in Edinburgh that whole week.”

“Brian….” Buffy pouted and slid into a smile. “It’s ok. Five weeks isn’t that long.”

“Oh baby you have NO idea.”

She smirked and tried to resist his nibbling, but alas, she was powerless.

Not that she minded.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~

“Where’s my grand-childe?”

Spike grinned as Angel pulled back from their hug and walked into the hall. Spike smiled and said, “Finishing off her school work, poof.”

“Well, work can wait. Its holidays anyway.” Cordelia smiled and hugged Spike. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good thanks, step-mum.”

“You know that disturbs me.”

“You know that’s why I do it.”

She shook her head in defeat and joined Angel.

“LIZ! PETER!” Spike called as he closed the door.

“Peter’s here too?”

“Yeah, he’s visiting.”

“Where are Xander and Anya?”

“Busy, like we all are. But they’re good. I left them messages saying you were coming, so they might show up later.”

“That’s good, I wanted to catch up with Anya.” Cordelia smiled. “She’s the only other not power-hungry half-demon I know. Everyone else is obsessed with becoming human or full demon. I say, best of both.”

“Come on in.” Spike said grinning after his chuckling agreement.

They walked into the sitting room and started to settle themselves when Liz raced into the room. Catching sight of Angel, she screeched and catapulted into his outstretched arms and kissed his grinning face.

“GRAND SIREEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!”

They hugged tightly and William smiled at the sight. Peter walked in and Angel turned to speak to him, Liz still clinging to his body like a monkey.

“Peter, hello. It’s good to see you again.”

“Angel.” They shook hands and Peter settled himself in one of the armchairs.

“Aunt CORDELIA!!”

“Hello sweetie!”

Hugs and presents and talking and question filled the time. It was a warm, content haze that surrounded them all and Angel and Cordelia’s gift of a karaoke set was put to good use. When Anya, Xander, Haile and Poppy arrived, and more presents dispersed, the tempo was cranked up several notches and no one could have guessed that there were two vampires, two half-demons, two humans and three uber-hyper kids (that their parents would swear were not of the human race), in the room instead of a crowd of thirty or so.  The large and rich dinner had to be ordered out on this occasion and they finally decided on Mexican.

“How are things, Will?” Angel took the moment alone with his childe to ask him.

“As they go, Sire. Liz is getting so smart and quick; she does something new and different everyday. Keeps me on my toes, that one.”

“I’m glad.” Angel hesitated and then stopped himself from continuing. It wasn’t obvious, but an unusual aura had been growing round his childe for a very long time. It wasn’t boredom, no, Spike’s life was too full for that, it wasn’t exactly apathy…Angel smiled and sighed…his Will loved Liz too much and clang to Sara’s memory too much for that. It was an aloof, waiting about him.

A searching for… a reason other than Liz- to exist.

The energy, buzz… the cocky insanity that used to BE Spike…was gone. A crazy, hyper, living, passionate creature had become a shell of himself. And it hurt Angel more than he let on. He could feel it. In the blood, in the bond between them.

Spike sensed Angel’s internal debate and practically sighed in relief when his Sire chose to stay silent. The no-longer-platinum-blond-more-like-mouse-brown-hair-coloured vampire wasn’t stupid, he could sense Angel’s worry in the blood bond between them…but he chose to ignore it. Sara had told him not to cling to the past but he didn’t see how he could cling to a future that didn’t hold anything for him except Liz’s eventual departure for college or work or a love of her own. No, he was fine as he was. Alone. But…fine.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~

How could one being have that much power? They were left stunned. He had gone against the three most mighty, sly and undefeated opponents they had faced and tamed them within seconds.

‘Uncle Angel’/ ‘grand-sire’ was always a hit with Liz, Poppy and Haile. Will, Xander and Anya were always left in wonder when he could easily and effortlessly persuade the three to go to bed on a non-school-night at a decent hour. How? They had enough trouble when there WAS an excuse for early bedtime.

When Angel returned to the garden, he grinned at the three jealous parents that were eying him.

“They say goodnight.”

Even Anya couldn’t reply.

Peter smiled and sighed at the same time, adoring the picture before him, and hurting for the ever-absent presence of the beauty that had been Sara. Unbeknownst to even himself, silent tears streamed down his face and a palpable aching squeezed his heart.

“Peter?”

The old man looked up, into the painfully similar eyes of his son-in-law.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your room.”

Peter could only nod and lean against Spike until he could fall into the least yearning slumber that he could hope for. William watched him for a few moments, calming his own memories, before he went back to the garden. The silence was uncomfortable and the haze had dispersed, leaving the stark truth glaring into his eyes.

Xander smiled and nodded as a supportive gesture and Spike smiled back, sitting in the garden chair. Anya clung to her husband’s chest, thanking whatever she could think of that he was with her and that she had the joy of watching her children grow. Angel, still torn, could do nothing except stare at the sky and feel Cordelia’s hand in his own.

They remained like that for a few minutes, a strong sense of dêja-vu returning to them all. How many times had they sat like this? Drifting in uncertainty, for no one knew what to do or what to say. On top of that, they all carried Buffy’s secret with them -adding a heavy, drooping guilt to their souls. Though Xander and Anya had confronted her a few years ago, resulting in a painful and accusing argument and a break off in contact, they still felt guilty, angry at Buffy and heartbroken for Spike. All hostility towards Spike had disappeared long long ago, long before even Buffy had left. When any of them hurt, the others did too.

Cordelia refused to speak to Buffy. Angel called her every now and again, but he too felt unsure of how to talk to her anymore, and their calls were short, haling and rare. More often than not it had been for demon-related reasons and since Buffy had ceased to be a slayer, the conversations had basically ended.

Willow, alone continued to talk to the ex-slayer on a regular basis. They had met as well, when Willow was in England, once or twice a year at most, but still, enough that they knew about each other’s lives. Their friendship was not as strong as it used to be and Willow could mention little about her own life, as Buffy did not want anything remotely related to Spike mentioned. She had no idea about Sara’s death, Liz’s birth, their location…. nothing.

Buffy had achieved half of what she had wanted.

Spike was a stranger.

But she had not forgotten him.

 

--And time goes by so slowly
The nights are cold and lonely
I shouldn't be holding on
But I'm still holding on for you--

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC