Chapter 64:

IN THE INTERREGNUM-

Spike understood the impulse, completely. She wanted to atone and make all that she knew would come after mean something. That was the only thing she was thinking, anything else didn’t matter.

He knew how that felt, and that tempered his ire as he looked into the anxious eyes of his wife, “How did it go?” Buffy asked.

“Red wasn’t expecting me. She was expecting something entirely different. Called me the ‘White rabbit.’ It’s a good wager she wasn’t ready for me. But then she never did learn to harness her powers. I did find out something interesting.”

“Oh, really?” Buffy could see from the look in his eyes that Spike had somehow stumbled onto what she had done, “What did you find out?”

Spike knew he should have been angry. He should have been livid, in fact. But he just couldn’t do it, not when it was the sort of thing he would have done. How could he be angry when he was doing the same thing himself? He sighed and kissed her, moaning a little at the trepidation he tasted on her lips, “I wanted to keep you and Joni away from that. I remember what it was like before that amulet found its way to Wolfram and Hart. It was enough that I had that burden. I didn’t want you to know that pain, too. But I should have known better than to try and keep that from you.”

Buffy bit her lip as she watched the miasma of emotions swirl in his gaze, “Did you tell her, Spike?”

He lowered his head like an injured pup, “Yes. But something in the way she looked at me told me she already knew,” he looked at her with a soft, knowing eye, “You and I both know there’s only one way that could have happened,” the look on Buffy’s face told him what he needed to know. Her face told him she carried enough guilt. He didn’t need to add more. What she needed from him was mercy, not wrath, “Your Mum and I aren’t the only ones who’ve been giving previews of coming apocalypses, are we?” he asked gently.

“Spike,” Buffy breathed, “ it’s the only way she can help him. She had to know. I…had to know. I couldn’t let you go through that alone. Not again. If we want a chance of beating this, then she had to know. Maybe not first-hand…”

Spike tightened his grip on Buffy, hoping to shield her from even having to speak the words, “Thank God for that!” he breathed.

“…But she had to know. It was the only way I knew…to help you.”

“I understand,” he said softly, “There’s no way I like the idea of putting her, or you through that, but I understand,” he smirked as he patted her shoulder lovingly, “And, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

Buffy eyed him suspiciously, “Spike, what…?”

“Buffy, the first time Angelus tried to take her, she and I were in that place for a year,” he hated the look of fright in her eyes, “ Out where you were, Love, our baby was only gone a few hours. And now, because of Angelus’s guilty conscience, we’ve gone way beyond that benchmark.”

“The first time? This has happened before?” she saw the look of contrition that pulled his eyes downward, “Are you telling me, that after all we’ve done…all you’ve been through, we’re still not changing anything?” she was clearly devastated.

Spike tried to soothe Buffy’s nerves in light of this new knowledge, “We are changing things, Love,” he said tenderly, “But all the possibilities have to be in play, as they were before. If it’s not this way, he could bring Joni back and lose you.”

“I thought this was a new wrinkle, Spike,” Buffy gasped, “It’s not. I should know this, even here. I should know. How could you not tell me that he kidnapped our daughter? How could you not tell me what you’d been through?”

“I know you were very ill by then. I didn’t tell you. You had enough of a burden. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“But how could you not tell me, Spike?” he hated seeing the flash of tears in her eyes, “How could I not know?”

“Love, you were feverish. Telling you would have put your body under undue stress, and ‘Lace’ would have taken you from me faster. I wanted to have you as long as I could,” he averted her blazing stare, “I know it was selfish of me. You have no idea how much I want the fog of ignorance now. That place was a terror. I don’t even want to remember it.”

“But, someone should have told me after…when I came here. Why didn’t I know?”

A sad smirk played on his lips, “Habit? Those people who thought they were doing the right thing by keeping certain things from you before, because they loved you, did it here because they love you. You know people don’t change here, neither does their love for you. For better or worse, it was done because they love you, Buffy.”

Buffy shook her head, “That doesn’t make it right, Spike!”

“You’re right,” he nodded, “It doesn’t make it right,” he brushed his lips lightly over hers. It was an apology as well as an affirmation of his love for her, “But Buffy, if you had known, would you have been able to change anything? Would it have helped you, in any way, to know that, and not be able to change it?”

“No,” Buffy admitted, “But I could have helped you. Does Jonina remember?”

“Now?” he saw her nod and continued, softly, “Only bits and pieces from before. Not the pain though. And she won’t remember it now. That was part of the deal.”

“What deal, Spike?”

“Don’t worry, Love, I’ll take care of her, and him too. She will have everything she needs. Nothing too extravagant, I promise. But she will have enough to eat, shelter, clothes to wear and someone to protect her. I’ll even make sure she has that floppy-eared bunny she loved so much.”

The conviction in his voice made Buffy proud and dampened her anger. He was only doing what he was best at, protecting the people he loved.

She pondered how alike they really were, and was in awe. But, there was one flaw in his plan, “Um, Spike,” she asked his back as he walked away, “just how are you going to explain a cabin, let alone a stuffed toy, in the middle of…well…nowhere?”

Spike turned to face her, and shrugged as his feet still glided away from her, “Love,” he smirked, “there are many mysteries in the universe. Believe me when I tell you, what he’s imagining is worse than the small paradox of a stuffed toy,” he shook his head sadly, “Love, there are worse things than some creature comforts. I’m a bit of a paradox myself. And we both know how much you love a paradox. Tell you what though,” he smiled again, “ when you can get someone in charge to explain the platypus to me, then I’ll explain a cabin in the middle of that place. Until then,” he winked, his eyes glinting with mischief as he shrugged, “divine intervention good for you?”

Buffy laughed as he walked away, “Oh, Spike, I love you.”
*****************************************

NOVEMBER 17, 2005-ROME

Dawn was confused by the results of this test. Stephen Riley’s blood did have the antibodies that her niece’s had, but when she tested it against the isolated virus from Talitha Sands’s blood sample, it weakened the virus but didn’t kill it. It was the same with the sample from Faith and Astrid.

She took the slide out of the stage clips of her microscope. True, the Council had access to the most state-of-the-art equipment. But no computer could sense the nuances that the human eye could detect.

Dawn pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to clear her vision. She was exhausted. She knew the answers were here. She was just too tired to see them, “Fred,” she called wearily, “run that serum test again on Jonina’s sample, would you? The answer’s got to be there somewhere.”

Illyria took the last vial of the child’s blood from the cold storage unit, “ As you wish. But the sample is greatly depleted. There may not be enough quantity for another test.”

“I know,” Dawn sighed, “Just, whatever you do, don’t spill any of it. It’s all we’ve got.”
**************************************************

In the beginning, his existence was full of darkness. This was a wilderness that he had to tame, for her sake. His world was a constant state of alert. The oasis of the old man’s cabin gave them shelter, but there were still the things on the outside that threatened her.

Things like the Zazlak had ignored his warning growls. The thing was a predator that had caught the scent of something new in its environment. Something it saw as small and weak, an easy meal.

That was its first, and last, mistake.

It came one night, when the snows first began to fly. He’d sensed it before he’d seen it.

He woke when the beast inside warned him of danger. He scanned the floor at the foot of his sleeping place, and found her safe in her basket, sleeping like the angel she was.

When he was sure that his youngling was safe and hidden from the threat, he left to pursue it. He had to leave his youngling behind, so that he would have a reason to return. He wouldn’t leave her for long, but he had to take out the things that were a danger. That was what he existed for.

In the third hour of his search, he came upon its nest. It wasn’t difficult to find. This beast was not discrete about its kills. Left them out in the open as a warning to the other beasts to stay away.

The Zazlak was the largest of the predators. It was at least twice his size, and very strong. It commanded respect from all the other beasts. If it were possible for him to kill this beast, his status among the animals would be elevated, and nothing else would dare to threaten his youngling.

As he crept into the lair, he could hear the roar of the thing’s breath. The urge to flee was nearly overwhelming. To quell his fear, he held his javelin tighter in his grip. If his aim were true, there would be no question what was ruler here.

The beast was asleep. Its black and green scales wound lazily around the fire pit of its cave. The snowfall forced the poisonous reptile to seek warmth. This was to his advantage. If he stayed near the mouth of the lair, the Zazlak would be forced into the raw elements. Although the cold did not affect the beast inside of him, his foe was quite different. The cold made it slow and dim-witted. It was his only advantage. And he would use it, to protect his youngling.

He stood at the mouth of the lair and let his beast howl.

The Zazlak turned its red eyes to the intruder. The warmth of the cave enabled it to move swiftly, expanding to its full height of twelve feet. It straightened its wings, preparing to take flight.

In order to take to the sky, it would need to leave its lair. When it got to the mouth of the lair, it felt the sting of the javelin that had found its mark.

The Zazlak was felled.

Now, there was a new king of beasts. With a victorious growl, he took a portion of its hide as a trophy, and went back to care for his youngling.

He rushed home to her. He stood watch over her, purred at her and was comforted by the strange rumbling that echoed through him as she slept on his quiet chest.

He was calmed. As the little one slept, he sang the song from his dreams and when he did, he fell into memory and slept secure.

They would always be secure now. He knew that. His own rumblings comforted him; they made no sense to him. But making the rumblings from his dreams was the only thing he had to comfort his youngling with in this harsh reality.

Gently placing his hands at the crown of her head as she slept, he sang, “…Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine.”
*************************

NOVEMBER 17, 2005- LOS ANGELES

Willow had never seen Buffy this distraught, “But Buffy, Homer was a fluke. He wasn’t supposed to be here. You knew it was just temporary,” Willow placed a soothing hand on Buffy’s back, tracing gentle circles, “We’re not even sure it was really Spike you talked to,” Buffy looked at her with tormented eyes, “At least we have something to go on now. We’ve got a lead on finding him.”

“He’s gone Willow!” Buffy snapped, “What about that don’t you understand? You were here. You know what Homer said. He said that he was Spike’s scream,” she sobbed, “What if that was all he had? What if he can’t do it again, and I didn’t take it? What if I can’t find them?”

Willow’s eyes twinkled, “Buffy, we’re talking about your husband, remember? The ‘Energizer Bunny’ of vampires?” she relaxed a little seeing her friend chuckle, “If anyone can reach out to you again, it would be him. But, you’ll never find him if you collapse from stress. I’m sure he would tell you to get some rest. Get some focus, and then start again. Be the Slayer he knows you are.”

Buffy let out a cleansing breath, “Thank you, Willow. I was freaked out there for a minute.”

“No problem,” Willow said, giving Buffy a gentle hug.
****************************************

The snowy season had come to mean change for them. It was during the snowfall that the old man who sheltered him returned.

He had returned from hunting, as was his custom when his youngling slept, to find him hovering over her basket.

He took a fighting stance, and growled a warning.

The old man looked, unhurriedly, in his direction. Protective instincts were lulled by the flash of something known in the old one’s eyes; the growl was soft and unthreatening, “Easy there,” Homer cooed, “I know it’s been a long time,” he placed the baby’s rabbit in her basket with her and smiled at her excited squealing, “I’m here to help you. Jonina is old enough to have her ‘Daddy,’ not just her protector. To be her ‘Daddy’ you need to talk to me. I need to get you ready for her. For Buffy.”

The name from his dreams, “Buffy?” he intoned gruffly.

The old man nodded, “That’s right, Spike. I know Buffy.”
*****************************

He knew his name now, and his purpose. Over the years, Homer had told him what to expect. He hated doing it, but if Jonina was to survive on the outside. A little pain now would save her, and Buffy’s world later.

That is, if Homer was to be believed. And somehow, Spike believed him.

Spike sat softly on the edge of her bed and gently kissed her forehead as he watched her deep sienna eyes grow wide with fear. She knew what was coming. It had become a bleak routine for them. He knew it hurt, and the thought of causing her more pain was unthinkable.

But, what was even more unthinkable was being without her. So kissed her and tried to assuage her fears. He smiled as she brought her bunny close to her as a shield, “That’s right, Dove,” he whispered trying to distract her from the sight of the syringe, “You hold tight to old Spike Rabbit. And if it pinches the least little bit, you squeeze the stuffing out of him. That’s what he’s there for,” he winked at her as he slid the needle into her skin, “That’s his job, to protect you. He and I, we kind of love you. We don’t want to see you ill,” he placed the syringe in the medical waste container, “See? All done,” Spike said as he tucked her into bed, “Now where were we?” he asked as he settled into the seat next to her bed.

The brief pain of the needle seemed to wash away on a tide of youthful excitement as she reminded him just where he’d left off in the fairytale, “The evil Glory monster had the Prince in her dungeon and was going to make him tell her where the Magic Key was,” she said in a breathless voice.

She looked, and sounded, as if she were the happiest child on earth. And Spike wanted to keep her that way, “That’s right,” he smiled, “I remember now.”
***************************************

After Buffy had rested, she woke with a new verve. She knew where to go, what to do. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did.

It must have been that dream she had. From what she could remember, she was standing in the park that she married Spike in, watching a young girl walk into the center of a chasm of light.

Buffy didn’t know what it meant, but she understood that that was where she needed to go. She needed to go back to where this all started.

With Willow’s spell book at her side, Buffy left the DeSoto near the gazebo, and walked slowly toward the point where he was.

She lit the candles, said the incantation, and watched as the light grew in front of her. She closed her eyes and thought of Spike.
****************************

Jonina ran to the spot where the star fell. The light was really bright, and her Daddy said she could make wishes on stars that fell on the ground. She wished she was bigger. Her legs weren’t fast enough. If she got there and the star had faded, she wouldn’t get her wish.

The star was just over the hill, only when she got to where the star had fallen, it wasn’t a star anymore. It was a lady.

Joni looked closer. The lady was sleeping. And, this wasn’t just a lady. Joni knew who this sleeping lady was. This was someone special. This was the Princess.

Joni didn’t know what to do. But her Daddy would. As fast as her little legs could go, she ran home to her Daddy.
*****************************

Spike could hear her little heart hammering in her chest as she ran to the door. Her little hand beat against the wood, as if the loud tapping in her chest weren’t jarring enough. He opened the door and was horrified at her flushed face.

“Daddy, Daddy,” she gasped, trying to pull air quickly.

He knelt, his beast ready to fight for her, “Dove, what is it?” he searched the darkness but felt no threat. He did feel something old though. Something out of his dreams, “Is something after you?”

“No,” Joni huffed, grasping her Daddy’s hand and pulling him out into the dark, “I found the Princess, Daddy! You have to come. I think she’s sleeping. You have to wake her up,” she tugged harder at his hand, “Come on, Daddy!”

Something connected with his heart, and Spike felt his feet rapidly speeding him to her side.
****************************************************
 

Chapter 65:

IN THE INTERREGNUM-HOME OFFICE

They’d been extremely patient, even to the point of indulging the whims of Holland Manners, but no more. Contrary to Holland Manners’s assertions, “Project Sisyphus” had been lost. Webster Drake could admire Manners’s tenacity. That was not the problem; in fact it was one of the firm’s greatest assets. The problem was in their inability to control the anomaly. All of Holland Manner’s assurances, all of his manipulations, were to no avail.

Even the tacit threat of universal disequilibrium had failed to produce a clear victor. Or, perhaps it had, and therein lay the conundrum. Even the promise of his heart’s desire had failed to taint him. That made him the most dangerous weapon the Home Office had ever been faced with.

And, that weapon gave the Higher Ups the advantage.

As Webster Drake shook his head in disappointment, he muttered to himself, “Trojan Horse, indeed.”

The Senior Partners felt it was time to cut their losses. It was Webster Drake who had the extreme displeasure of informing Manners that support for his pet project was being terminated, and he was being demoted.

As he sat behind his desk, Webster Drake took a deep breath. He hated this part of the job, but even he had people to answer to.

He closed the manila folder that detailed “Project Sisyphus” in all its spectacular failure, and touched the intercom, “Darcy, send for Holland Manners.”

“Yes, Mister Drake,” she said.
***********************

She looked like an angel, like something out of a dream. He’d followed Joni in an attempt to placate her. Flights of whimsy were few and far between here, and he did not want to crush his little one’s hopes, so he’d followed her. He knew that the stories that Homer told were fantasy, but she didn’t. He had to be there for Jonina when the reality of their world came crashing down on her like the bite of a Zazlak.

He’d followed her to protect her. But then, he felt it. Something pulled at him. Something that felt old and primal. Necessary. Something beyond blood, beyond the beast, something that he feared was lost.

Staring at this spark of flame, this angel, lying in the snow, he knew that that part of him was no longer lost. It was found. He knew now that what Homer had told him was true, and not just the ramblings of an old man. The truth of what he said was lying here at his feet, sleeping in the snow like an edelweiss blossom.

And, like that delicate blossom Homer told him of, he knew she did not belong in his world. Yet, here she was. Spike knew he had to protect her, as he did Jonina, with his life, if need be.

Just like the knight in one of Homer’s tales. Only now they were no longer tales, they were real.

There was no sound save for the crunch of his knees hitting the soft snow beside her. There was a thought that Jonina had somehow pulled him into her whimsies. But, how could that be true, if she were real?

Of its own accord, his fingers brushed her skin lightly, skirting over the purple bruise that scarred her right temple. He hissed in empathy, drawing his fingers quickly away, not wishing to cause her further harm.

Jonina’s little voice broke the precious silence, “Daddy, is she…?

“No,” he breathed out before she could voice the unthinkable, “but she will be, if she doesn’t move,” he narrowed his eyes, scanning for dangers. He instinctively moved closer to her still form, crouching over her, placing himself between her and the biting elements and the other dangers of this world. His speech was disjointed and distracted, as if he were trying to comfort himself with things familiar to him, “The Bejeasiahn are scavengers. If she’s immobile too long, they’ll peck at her. We have to get her back to the cabin.”

“Can you carry her Daddy?” Joni asked innocently, “Don’t worry about me. I can run really fast. Don’t worry about me, Daddy.”

He loved that his youngling was so confident, but there was no way he was going to let her out of his sight, especially when he could hear the tremor of fright coloring her voice and the Bejeasiahn were so near. To say nothing of all the other predators looking to use any sign of weakness on his part as a way to jump ahead in the wilderness hierarchy, “No, Dove. We’ll take her back together, all right?” Spike picked the unconscious woman up gently, and felt a strange sensation of warmth suffuse him as her head rested against his chest. He motioned slightly with his head, to the space beside him, “You stand right beside me,” he said authoritatively and his little girl fell in, at his side, “Stay right beside me, and we’ll get her back home,” he looked down into her large adoring eyes as they beamed up at him, “Together,” he said softly, trying to mask his own fear under his little one’s need for routine, “like always.”

Joni nodded as her eyes sparkled with determination, “Like always,” she said as the set off on the journey home.
************************************************************************
NOVEMBER 30, 2005- ROME

“Stephen, we’ve isolated this thing. But your blood isn’t enough,” Giles said, his voice rough with exhaustion, “There has to be something we’re not seeing. And, if we don’t find it soon, it may be too late. Reports of the contagion are coming in faster now. There may be no Slayer at all soon enough,” he hung his head in defeat.

Xander tried to put the young man at ease. He looked at his slightly frazzled companions and said, with a slight smirk, “G-man is that any way to talk? Where’s the man who used to have nitrogen running in his veins, when it came to the apocalypse?”

Rupert’s face remained hard and unchanged, “That man is dying,” he said bitterly, “along with the Slayers.”

Xander looked at him sympathetically, “Been there,” he said as he looked over the file again, “It’s a good thing Dawn called in the reinforcements. Maybe all you need is new eyes,” he shrugged, smiling sheepishly, “Or, in my case, a new eye, on the case,” he said, as he scanned the pages and equations, “Don’t worry, we’ll come through. By the skin of our teeth maybe, but, we’ll come through this. We always do,” Xander worried his lip, unsure of how, or even if, to speak what he really wanted to know, “Any word on the amulet that started this whole thing?”

“No. Georgina Whitby-Roberts is doing what she can. She did work at Wolfram and Hart for a time. She may know more than she thinks she does.”

Xander looked down at the floor, then back up into the tortured eyes of Buffy’s would-be father, “And…Willow? Has she located Buffy?”

“No. She cannot tell me anything definitive. She will only say that her essence, along with Spike’s and Jonina’s, is somehow trapped between dimensions now.”

“Well, can she pull them back?”

Rupert sighed, feeling a weight pull at him, “In theory. If she knew where they were.”
***************************

DECEMBER 1, 2027-

Buffy stared in amazement down at his deceptively serene form. He looked like he was sleeping. He hadn’t moved or spoken in weeks. He wasn’t able to tell her what he needed from her. That was why she’d asked Willow to do that spell, so that she would be able to help him, if she could.

Now she wished she hadn’t asked.

He was immersed in his memories, not just immersed, but consumed by them. It seemed to her that, “Cassandra’s Lace” had been conquered. But at what cost, her husband’s sanity?

His mind was a jumble of the past and his deepest fears. It was sometimes hard for Buffy to discern between the two.

She looked out the window at the blanket of snow that covered the ground, and remembered the countless snowmen they’d built with Joni and Mabel.

Buffy smiled at the memory. She couldn’t count all the Thanksgivings and Christmases they’d been through. How many yards of birthday paper and ribbons had gone by? How many anniversaries? She didn’t know. But, as she looked at his motionless form and realized how much the “Lace” had robbed him of, he didn’t even remember their youngest daughter, she knew that there would be more. There had to be. She was going to help him, whether he liked it or not.

Buffy wiped the tears from her eyes as she sat in the antique rocking chair. She ran her hands lovingly over the smooth cherry wood. How many times had she woke in the middle of the night searching for him, only to find him sitting here, in this chair, singing to one of his daughters.

She would stand in the doorway, marveling at how tender he could be. Then she'd make a polite noise to alert him of her presence. She knew he never needed it. He always knew she was there. It had always been like that, but even more so since she’d rescued Joni and him from the X’yxeth dimension.

Spike would look at her with soft, slightly embarrassed eyes, “Sorry Love, didn’t mean to wake you. It seems the youngling is a bit on the nocturnal side,” he would smirk, “Takes after her Da that way.”

Buffy shook herself out of her reverie. X’yxeth, now that was one place that was a blessing and a curse. If she’d never heard of the place, her husband wouldn’t be in pain right now, but she wouldn’t have Joni, the cure for “Lace” and she might not have Mabel because she might have died twenty-five years ago.

Willow’s spell let her know that Spike feared that too, because a part of him believed she had died all those years ago.

Buffy leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Spike, I know this was some sort of trade you made,” she smiled ruefully, “It’s the kind of thing you would do. You told me. But, the girls and I, we need you. So, I’m making sure we have you.”
***********************************************************

Homer had told him that when the woman came, he would have to let Jonina go. He had hoped that she would never appear. He didn’t want to let her go. But, here she was.

The snows were a season of change here. In order to save his angel’s world, he would have to give up something precious to him. He would have to give up his soul. He would have to let his youngling go, let her fly away.

He wasn’t sure he could do that. But he knew he would have to, if he wanted her to live.

A moan came from the bed in the far corner of the room. She was awake.

He stood up and carefully, cautiously made his way to her, “Hello,” he smiled sadly at her as he saw her eyes focus and felt the sting of tears when he saw the fire of recognition in them, “I’m glad you’re here. I am,” he chuckled a little to hide the sorrow in his voice, “I was starting to believe you were a myth. Joni can’t wait to go. It’s a big adventure to her; like a fairytale.”

“Spike?” Buffy asked groggily.

He nodded, his eyes glistening, “I don’t know how you know my name. But, he said you would come. And, when you did, Joni would have to fly,” he struggled against the sorrow he felt at the prospect of being alone again, “away and leave me here.”

There was a squeal of shock from behind Spike, “Daddy, you mean you’re not going to come with us?”

Spike hadn’t intended Joni to hear that. He closed his eyes as he slowly turned and knelt to comfort his little girl. He’d taught her much in the eight years he’d been here with her, but he never wanted her to learn about loss. There were some things though, that younglings had to learn, in order to live. And, Joni had to live. That’s what he wanted for her, “No Dove. I’m not coming. You and your Mummy have to go now.”

Hearing her name spoken maternally was jarring to Buffy. She sat up on the bed and strained to see the little girl with the tiny voice. This couldn’t be her little baby, could it?

“Joni?” Buffy gasped.

With the skill that only the young have, she dodged away from her father’s protective embrace, and ran to stand in front of her. The little girl Buffy feared she’d never see again regarded her thoughtfully, tilting her head in a way that almost made Buffy laugh, “I’ve seen you before. You’re the Princess,” she came slowly closer to the bed and to Buffy, “Mommy?”

“Joni,” Buffy sobbed as little hands held her neck, “Oh, baby,” she sniffed, holding her back from her to look her over, “you’ve gotten so big,” she brushed a strand of her long hair away from her eyes, “Your Daddy’s taken such good care of you. I love you so much!” she said as she held the young lady tightly to her.

Unnoticed, Spike had carefully stepped across the cabin, looking out the window, to give them a moment of privacy.

His stomach lurched a little at the scene. He had a sense that they would be leaving him soon. And, as he watched the snow start to fall harder, and the sky darkened, he knew it.

And, it tore him apart.
**********************

IN THE INTERREGNUM- HOME OFFICE

Holland was nervous. Around the firm it was known that those who had the dubious pleasure of meeting Webster Drake were seldom heard from again.

He hated to think of the kind of punishment he was in for.

The phone at the secretary’s desk rang. The woman in the tailored suit picked up the handset and listened. She nodded, making eye contact with him as she rose from her desk and opened Webster Drake’s office door without a word.

Holland Manners thought he had known fear that night in his very own wine cellar. He had been wrong. He’d never truly known fear until he stepped into Webster Drake’s office and looked into his calm, grinning face.

“Hello Holland,” Drake said, gracefully indicating the seat in front of his desk, “Please, have a seat.”
*****************************************************************
 

Chapter 66:

DECEMBER 2, 2027- NEW ENGLAND

Buffy saw the sliver of light from the doorway cut through the darkness of the room. Her body stiffened at the interruption. She was about to snap at whoever had dared to take what little time she had with him now when she heard the little voice, “Mommy, is Daddy still asleep?”

She was exhausted and worried, but there was no reason Mabel needed to know that. Being eight was hard enough. And being the younger sister of the Slayer, as well as the daughter of a former Slayer and a vampire was even harder.

Buffy slowly got up from her seat near the bed and went over to the slightly open door. She put her hand on the edge of the door and knelt, looking into her anxious face. Buffy swept a rebellious strand of flaxen hair away from her large indigo eyes as she nodded, “Yeah, Honey. Daddy’s still asleep,” Buffy’s eyes searched for any sign of Joni but found none, “Your sister was supposed to be watching you. Where did she go?”

Mabel’s chin quivered just a little as she tried to keep her tears inside, “It’s dark. You know where she is, Mommy.”

Buffy looked over her shoulder at the window, and winced. The sun had indeed set and she was too preoccupied to notice. Joni would be out on patrol. She looked back at her little girl’s timorous eyes and tried to soothe her nerves, “You know Daddy didn’t mean to scare you, don’t you Honey?”

Mabel nodded, her eyes wide and shining with tears, “Uh huh,” she said.

Buffy knew Mabel was just telling her what she thought her mommy wanted to hear. Mabel was the peacemaker of the family.

The poor thing had her work cut out for her in this family.

Buffy sighed. She looked down at her daughter’s little red tennis shoes, and smiled sadly. There they were, her favorite laces, the white ones with the cartoon honeybees on them. She liked them because her Daddy called her “Bee.” It was a play on her middle name, Deborah.

Looking back up at her face, Buffy said, “Bee, you’re still scared aren’t you?”

She shook her head vigorously, “No, Mommy,” she insisted, “I’m not scared.”

Buffy sighed again and regarded her daughter with sadness, “It’s okay to be scared, Honey. Mommy’s scared too.”

Mabel’s eyes widened in surprise, “You’re scared Mommy?”

“Uh huh. And, Daddy’s sorry Sweetheart, he really is. He didn’t mean to hurt you. Daddy is sick, you know that.”

Mabel nodded as a mewling sound came from her throat.

“…And sometimes Daddy forgets things,” Buffy said, remembering what the illness was like for her, years ago, “When Daddy forgets things, sometimes the boogieman comes out. He didn’t mean it.”

There was a little gasp, “You mean, Daddy forgot me?”

Buffy wanted to bite through her tongue when she heard the terror in Mabel’s voice, “No of course not! It’s just that you scared Daddy.”

“I scared Daddy?”

“A little,” Buffy said softly, “You didn’t know you could do that, did you?”

She shook her head, clearly unaware that she had.

“That’s why Daddy’s asleep now. Because he was scared and he doesn’t know what happens when he’s scared. And he doesn’t want to hurt anyone,” Buffy put a hand to Mabel’s cheek noticing the jagged outline of the fading bruise, “Daddy’s really sorry, Bee. Does it still hurt?”

“That was two weeks ago. Why would it still hurt?”

Buffy saw her tears shining, and she knew that it did hurt. Maybe not physically, but it did hurt, “I don’t know, Bee.”

Mabel bit her lip in thought, “Daddy has to be awake for my birthday.” She pouted and for an instant Buffy knew why Spike had never been able to resist it, or herself for that matter, when she’d resorted to the protruding lip. It was absolutely adorable, “You promise, Mommy? You promise he’ll be better soon? Daddy can’t miss my birthday.”

“I promise, Sweetie,” Buffy said, tugging on the ends of Mabel’s ponytails lightly, to put her at ease. She was rewarded with a tiny smile, “Your birthday’s three weeks away. Remember, we marked it on the calendar?”

She nodded again.

“That’s plenty of time for Daddy to wake up,” Buffy gave her a kiss on the cheek as she stood up, “Now, why don’t you go play ‘Chutes and Ladders’ with Aunt Willow and Georgie.”

Mabel pouted, “But Mommy, that’s a baby’s game!”

“Yeah,” Buffy said sympathetically, “but Aunt Georgie doesn’t know how to play. Why don’t you show her?”

“Okay Mommy,” Mabel said as she turned to go, “Tell Daddy…” her voice trailed off. Uncertain.

“Tell him what, Bee?”

Mabel looked back over her shoulder and Buffy was sure that the eyes that looked at her were older than eight years, “That, if he wakes up he doesn’t have to get me a birthday gift.”

Buffy almost suffocated on the large sob that stuck in her throat, “I will, Bee,” she choked, “I’ll tell Daddy that.”

As Buffy quietly shut the door, she looked back at Spike’s peaceful form. Sitting in the old rocker, she took his hand in hers again. Focusing her attention on the silver band that seemed to be the only thing that tied him to her now, she gave a weary sigh and said, “You heard her. You’ve got three weeks to pull this out ‘Big Bad.’ And, I’m going to help you.”
****************************************

IN THE INTERREGNUM- HOME OFFICE

Holland’s scream still echoed in the office and the smell of brimstone still hung in the air as Webster Drake paged his girl Friday, “Darcy, see if you can arrange a meeting.”

She was clearly perplexed by the request, “Sir?” she squeaked.

“Now Darcy, we’re all professionals here. He won. There’s no reason not to congratulate him.”
********************************************

DECEMBER 2, 2005- ROME

Dawn’s shoes squeaked as they pounded the linoleum. She never realized before how big the halls of Council Headquarters were. But then, she’d never had information this precious before. It already felt like she’d run a mile, and she knew she would run ten more to get them back.

She was running so fast that she nearly ran past the open conference room door. She had to catch the doorframe to keep from falling down as she abruptly stopped, “Giles,” she huffed, “I got it!”

All eyes fell on her as she stood in the doorway trying to catch her breath. But she only saw Giles’s wide eyes. They were so wide, it looked as if he didn’t believe her, “W-what?”

“I got it! Fred…well, Illyria actually, she told me that there was more of Spike’s blood in the Wolfram and Hart archives. She used her Fred persona to gain access to the samples,” Dawn smirked, knowing that there was more to it. There was no way that Winifred Burkle could get past the guards. Illyria however did not have that problem, “I think Illyria had herself a ‘spot of violence.’ Spike would be proud. The reason Stephen’s blood only slowed it down is because he’s not a vampire. I mixed the samples from the archives with the last of Jonina’s blood and tested that on the virus. Guess what?”

Dawn took a breath and looked around her. It was then that she noticed that she was the only being in the room that was breathing. Her friends were on the edge of their seats waiting for her to say something.

“Out with it, girl!” Giles snapped, “We don’t have time for games, and neither do the Slayers!”

Dawn didn’t care what Giles said. Nothing could ruin her mood, not now that she had the answer. She smirked, “It ate the virus quicker than Spike can go through a box of Wheatabix. I’ve sent out an urgent e-mail to all the Watchers and instituted a vaccination program. They all should be reporting here soon.”

Suddenly Dawn felt it difficult to breathe. She didn’t care though, all she felt was the warm embrace of her friends as they all cried with relief.
******************************

DECEMBER 2, 2005- LOS ANGELES

Willow sat in the middle of the sacred circle trying to focus on her goal. If she could make a flower from Paraguay come up through the earth and appear in England, she could find three essences that, she had no doubt were huddled somewhere together.

She let her mind go blank so that their essences could make themselves known. At first there was nothing but a black and terrible void. Willow thought she could hear someone screaming. She’d heard that voice before, that night at the tower.

It was Spike’s. He was in agony.

Willow opened her mouth to give voice to the pain she felt, but no sound came out. Then her mind became a blur of white.

Willow could see nothing through the blinding snow.
***********************************

Spike ignored the snow that stung his eyes. He watched as the orange light sat low in the night sky. It grew larger and more dreadful the longer they stood in front of it.

It was about to take his only peace, his only refuge in this place, away from him. And he was about to let it.

As he felt her strong grip slice into him he cursed his enhanced sense of hearing as he tried to focus on the howling wind rather than her pleading voice as he descended from Purgatory into Hell, “…Please! Come back with us! Please, Spike!” she was begging. The snow was sticking to her face that was wet with her tears, “Joni needs you,” Buffy pleaded as she set Jonina higher on her hip and Spike reluctantly tried to pry his child’s hands from about his neck.

Spike would have gladly blinded his own eyes not to have to look upon his youngling’s face as she cried, “No Daddy, please! I love you! I’ll be good, I promise.”

Spike tried to be strong, tried to do what had to be done. He tried to push down the pain as he focused on her warm, dark eyes, “I know you will, Dove. I love you, too. Like always, you remember that.”

Joni sniffed back tears, as she held tighter to her toy rabbit. He looked up into Buffy’s face, still speaking to his little girl. His voice was raw and squeezed his throat, “Mummy has Daddy’s ring. You have Spike Rabbit. That’s all you need, Dove.”

Buffy tried again, “But Spike, she needs her Daddy.”

“I know,” he choked, “But she needs her Mum more. The world, that world, needs you more. Take her,” he swallowed the lump in his throat, “Take our little girl and go! Leave me here. Go!”

Buffy knew this was something he had to do. He had the look in his eyes that he wore on that day in the Hellmouth.

He needed this. And because she loved him, Buffy would let him have his moment.

She placed Joni gently in the snow, and turned her to face the glowing vortex. She didn’t want her to see the pain that she knew would be on his face.

Taking a deep breath, she clasped Joni’s hand, and together they ran into the orange light.

With a blinding flash, they both disappeared.

Suddenly, there was no one like him here. Now he was alone. It was quiet. Fearfully quiet. The only sounds here now, were the sound of his still heart and his empty tears.
*********************************

IN THE INTERREGNUM-

The seraphim with the flaxen hair and twinkling indigo eyes nodded, “There is no mistake. I’m here for you. You’ve been called up.”

Spike was nearly overcome by this news. He squinted at the glowing countenance in disbelief. He looked to Joyce for confirmation. All she did was smile and nod excitedly. Spike looked back at the girl, “Who did you say you were again?”

Her eyes glinted with glee, “My name isn’t important. But, if you must call me something, you can call me…Mabel.”

Spike averted her gaze, shyly, “You are that. Beautiful, I mean.”

The seraphim deigned to touch his face, and he felt a shock of warmth, “You are beautiful too, William.”

“I’m beautiful?” the question contained no air of arrogance. It came from boyish insecurity.

“Yes you are,” she smiled brilliantly, “All Upper beings are.”
*********************************************

DECEMBER 2, 2005- LOS ANGELES

The blinding flash hurt her eyes. Willow had to look away. What she saw when she looked back shocked her.

Buffy was lying in the center of the sacred circle with her arms curled protectively around a little girl.

The only sound was the sound of Buffy weeping.
******************************
 

Chapter 67:

NOVEMBER 20, 2027-NEW HOPE CEMETERY-

Joni kicked the leaves as she walked through the rows of stone, keeping her eye out for freshly turned earth and hoping that her father wouldn’t soon be, once again, amongst the dust that lingers here. She, like her parents, had begun to really believe that they’d beaten the virus back. There hadn’t been any new cases in years.

Her parents had been so jubilant that they’d adopted a toddler that the county agencies had had difficulty placing because of a “sunlight allergy.”

Someone at the county home had heard of the Dustins and their interests in cases like hers. Apparently, the woman at the home thought there was something “unnatural” about the little girl. As it turned out, the girl wasn’t “unnatural” at all.

She wasn’t a vampire. Although, she did have a rare genetic enzyme deficiency, that caused her to break out in blisters if she was exposed to the sun for any length of time.

It is this condition that contributed to the “legend” of the vampire. And, who better to care for someone like Mabel than a vampire and a Slayer?

All seemed right with the world. The four of them had started to have a somewhat normal life. A life full of Christmases and birthdays, and parent teacher conferences. It was nice.

But then, two years ago, the “Lace” had mutated drastically from its original strain. Joni wasn’t sure why that had happened. She found out later that the new strain had had something to do with what had happened to her, and her Daddy, when she was a baby.

The new, and more virulent form of Lace was slow and insidious. And, it seemed to zero in on her Daddy. At times, her Daddy was too weak to even lift his own head without help. At other times though, he was able to walk with the aid of a walking stick. It was painful to watch what was happening to him, and to think about what could happen.

It was painful to think that something could be strong enough to bring him down.

Joni had wanted to help. She tried to find out the specifics of her time as a child, thinking that, perhaps the answers lie in there somewhere. But her mother wouldn’t discuss it.

During the bad times, she rarely, if ever, left his sickroom. She would stay there for weeks on end. She wouldn’t eat, or let anyone near her.

At one point, it got so bad, she had to be hospitalized and fed intravenously.

Joni could still remember, and quite vividly, a night when the virus first began its assault. Her Aunt Dawn had insisted that she spend some time with her Aunt Georgie. She had resisted at first. After all, she wasn’t a child. If her father was dying, she had a right to be there when it happened.

Joni could still hear her own voice as it blurted out that thoughtless demand. At the time, she didn’t care if her mother heard, or was hurt. But, she had forgotten about her Daddy. He heard every word.

The door to the sickroom opened then. Joni was not prepared for what staggered out.

Joni had known from childhood that her Daddy was different. She knew he was a vampire. She’d even had an imaginary friend that was one, so the idea of the undead walking never bothered her.

But, her Daddy had never looked more cadaverous than he did when he stepped out of that tiny room. He was skeletal. It made her insides churn just seeing him like that.

The jerky movements as he stepped toward her made her heart sink further. But it was the bone-on-bone grinding of his voice that removed all doubt. This was a walking, talking, corpse standing in front of her. His barren, desolate stare caused her throat to tighten in fear and sympathy.

Bloodless lips parted and the icy plea came slowly, as if filtered through a pain-addled brain that was pushed to its limits and was barely cognizant, “Dove…please. I don’t want to leave you now,” Joni could see that the possibility really did frighten him, as his eyes widened in realization. He closed his eyes, shielding himself from the stark reality of what was happening, “But I’m not good…to be around…right now. Sometimes I don’t know…where I am. Or even if… I don’t know. I need you…safe. Not…here. Take Bee. Please go,” he lowered his eyes, “Someone will tell you…when I’m …safe again. Please…go.”

Joni was unaware of her Mom’s presence until she saw her Daddy start to fall and she rushed to catch him. His body hit the floor before she could. As her Mom’s eyes looked up at her, Joni never realized how bright they were when she was angry, “You heard him,” she said, her voice quaking with rage and grief, “Do this! If not for me, then do it for him. Honor this!”

All she could do was nod. The sight of her Daddy, unconscious on the floor, filling her vision. The idea that she could be responsible for putting her Daddy in that much agony was enough to make her run screaming from the house and never look back.

That was a bad time. But last night was the worst. Daddy hadn’t even recognized Mabel, not that that mattered because last night it was Uncle Angel her Daddy saw as a threat.

Uncle Angel had come to see what he could do for her Mom and Mabel. As soon as he came through the door of the sickroom, he had playfully tussled Mabel’s hair. That was a mistake. Her Daddy had somehow found the strength to bolt out of bed and charge him, throwing Mabel aside in his delirium. She hit the bedside table and fell to the floor.

Daddy rarely showed his demon to his family. And last night was the first time Mabel had seen it. It scared her. After Uncle Angel left, it took her and her Mom hours to calm Mabel down so that she would go to sleep.

Last night had scared her too, but not for the same reason. What scared her was what her Daddy had said to Uncle Angel before her Mom was able to pull him off of him.

In full demon visage, his eyes shining with rage, her Daddy’s voice roared, “Angelus, never touch my girl again! You come here again, and I’ll kill you!”

It was at that moment that she realized that her Uncle knew something. And she was going to make him tell her what that something was.
**********************

DECEMBER 2, 2005- LOS ANGELES

Willow stood there staring at Buffy as she lay in the circle. She blinked in amazement. She’d done it. She’d found them and pulled them back.

She knelt next to Buffy, listening to her sob, “Buffy, you’re home. Are you all right?”

She held the little girl tighter to her, looking anxiously at her unconscious face, “Joni. Joni, please wake up,” hot tears were streaking down her face but she didn’t care. She only saw Joni’s face, “You came all this way, you can’t sleep now.”

The girl in Buffy’s arms moaned and her eyelids fluttered. She was on the edge of wakefulness, “Daddy,” she muttered.

Willow gasped. Was this little girl really Joni? She looked much older than Willow thought she would. Willow swallowed, “Joni? My name is Willow. I’m a friend of your Mommy’s. Can you understand me?” she put her hand on the girl’s soiled cheek.

At the slight touch, her eyes opened and focused on her face. Her pupils dilated in fear, “It’s okay,” Willow said softly, “You’re safe now. I won’t hurt you.”

The only response from Joni was a guttural sound from deep in her chest. It was primal.

The shock of hearing that sound made Willow pull her hand back. She looked up at the glistening eyes of her friend, “Buffy, can you tell me what happened?”

Vacant eyes looked back at her. Buffy’s eyes were drowning in sorrow and her voice was hushed by the weight of it, “Oh, Willow. We have to find him. I can’t leave him there.”
********************

IN THE INTERREGNUM-

He knew the hunt. He was a beast. To survive, he had to kill.

This world was hard and cold, but it was his. And, he had to survive in it.

The marks on the wall of his shelter had been important once. He knew that. They meant something, had a sound to them. But what did they mean now? He used to know. The meaning was his. But the beast took the words from him.

What did it care for noise, and softness? Just kill. Fight. Survive the cold. Forget about the small one gone up into the sky, leaving him down on the earth, alone.

He did make the sounds, when he remembered. When they meant something. But no more. Nothing was here, nothing but the animal within. It came and promised to protect him, keep him warm. And it did that.

He gave the beast his warmth, and his words. He let the beast take her, and them. He had to. To survive in this place, he had to.

For a time he wept. And then, he forgot. And the beast remained.
**************************************************

IN THE INTERREGNUM- HIGHER PLANE

Mother and daughter wept together, “Oh Mom,” Buffy cried, “I can’t watch this!”

“You have to Honey. This was his world. This is his world now, without you and Joni. And it will be this way, until she decides what to do.”

Buffy looked at the scene unfolding before her, and her heart ached, “But how can she… How can I leave him there?”

Joyce looked at her daughter’s haggard expression and said sadly, “You know she won’t. And that’s the problem,” Joyce’s lip jutted out in thought, “He does have a choice here, you know.”

“No Mom. You can’t mean…” Buffy gasped, forcing the horror to stay inside by clasping a hand over her mouth.

Joyce shrugged, resigned, “If she makes that choice, what do you think he’s going to do, Honey?” she sighed at the knowledge that flared in Buffy’s eyes, “He loves you all too much. Remember, ‘Manchester United, dog racing, happy meals with legs?’”
*********************************************

NOVEMBER 20, 2027- NEW HOPE CEMETERY

The caretaker watched the young lady as she walked through the stones. His heart ached for her. She seemed to have a purpose but there was something in her eyes that bothered him. There was a loss there that did not come from her surroundings.

This girl was out for blood. He knew it in his very being. Something here was very wrong.

He knew he had to make it right somehow.

Chapter 68:

IN THE INTERREGNUM-HIGHER PLANE

Spike still couldn’t believe it. The seraphim had actually called upon him. He looked up at Joyce in awe, “Joyce, they can’t mean that. Can they?”

Joyce was pleased with his reaction. He was like a child who’d just been given the one gift he’d always wanted. She smiled at him again, “Oh they’re serious. Deception is the Home Office’s territory. Here, we’re honest, almost to a fault, if such a thing exists.”

Spike shook his head, “But there has to be some kind of mistake. Nothing I did… No good I did, can justify this!” he gaped. He had expected, at the most a pat on the back before being sent to his own little corner of Hell. But he definitely had never even dreamed this, “How?”

“Remember those legions of angels?”

“Uh huh,” he stuttered, still disbelieving.

“Well,” Joyce smiled, “let’s just say this. Some of them owe you big. And, one of them can be pretty persuasive. Although, to be fair, someone,” she had to smile at his bemused expression, “ wouldn’t really have to do all that much persuading in order to give this to you. You’ve earned this. They thought they’d return the favor,” her eyes twinkled brightly.

“But how? Who? I couldn’t have…There aren’t enough people…”

Joyce grunted in frustration, “Spike! Don’t cloud the issue with numbers,” she looked around their surroundings and asked, incredulously, “Do you see any scales here, any weights or measures?”

He shook his head, not comprehending her meaning.

“Counting is for others,” she said slowly, “It’s not for you. All the people in the world wouldn’t bring some to where you are.”

“That’s just it. Why…”

“Spike, trust me. For once, don’t question it. Not this. Just take it.”

Something in her voice stopped him. He lowered his head in submission, “You’re right, Joyce. I’m sorry. I’ll take it.”

“Good,” Joyce sighed.

“And Buffy will be spared it? ‘Lace’ dies with me,” he looked away from Joyce, not wishing to show her how bereft he felt.

“Yes. To a point.”

Spike squinted, “What do you mean, ‘To a point?’ The point where I watch her die again?” his voice grated in his throat. Even to his own ears he sounded like an over pampered child, his wants taxing a parent’s patience. But he couldn’t stop himself, “Joyce, you know I can’t do that! I won’t…”

Joyce rolled her eyes, “Spike, I realize you’re upset. But, think about it. This is Buffy we’re talking about. Do you really think she can leave you in that Hell?”

“But she has to. It’s the only way.”

“She loves you, Spike,” Joyce chided.

“I know. I love her too,” he said softly, “But sometimes my love…it hurts her,” his voice hardened, “She doesn’t need me now.”

Joyce looked at him sadly. He had obviously forgotten. It was easy to do, being here. She hated to remind him at all, “How did you feel when she was here, that summer?”

“Like the walking dead,” he muttered, the memory stabbing at his heart. “If it hadn’t been for Dawn, and a haze of alcohol… I don’t know how I made it from moment to moment.”

“And how do you think Buffy survived, while you were gone? Sure, you were only gone nineteen days. But, I was with her that day on the Hellmouth. I saw her heart break, just like yours did. It felt like forever to her. But what hurt her more than your being gone was the fact that, when you weren’t…gone you didn’t tell her. You let her grieve you when she didn’t have to.”

Spike hung his head in shame, “I didn’t know she had, grieved I mean. I would have done different had I known. Had I believed.”

Joyce gave him a commiserating look, “I know. I don’t even have to ask how long it was for you. If I hadn’t meddled, and given you her, even for that little bit of time, do you think you could have held on?”

“No,” he admitted grimly.

“How do you think she will take it, being without you? Again. Especially now?”

Spike knew exactly what Buffy would do. He lowered his eyes fatalistically, “Joyce, there has to be a way to stop it.”

“Maybe there is,” Joyce murmured, “We have a lot of work to do.”
****************

DECEMBER 2, 2005- ROME

Dawn put down the telephone receiver in shock. She’d called to make sure that Kennedy was well enough to make the trip to Rome for the vaccinations; Kennedy had been sick for a month.

Willow told her that she’d pulled Buffy out, back to this plane, and Jonina was with her. But apparently, there was one problem. Joni was, at least outwardly, now an eight-year-old girl.

That news had her spun. But, no one could tell as she calmly entered the conference room, “Giles, I’ve got good news, bad news and weird news,” Dawn took a sighing breath, “Which do you want first?”
*******************************************************

NOVEMBER 20, 2027- NEW HOPE CEMETERY

As Joni walked through the graveyard she tried to focus on something else. Anything would be better than the blank space in her memories. The space that was rapidly filling with her Daddy’s declining health.

She hated it. And the weird part was she didn’t even realize anything was missing until her little sister Mabel came into the picture.

She could remember watching her parents gushing over Mabel’s first steps. Her Daddy talked for hours about her first tricycle ride. She could remember laughing as his chest puffed out with fatherly pride when Mabel played a star in her nursery school pageant.

But what really stuck in her head was the look on her Mom’s face as they all helped Mabel build her first snowman.

The four of them were out in the snow, with Mabel bundled up and watching from the warmth of her Mommy’s arms, as she and Daddy began pushing and pulling at the snow and packing it down until the snowballs were large enough to stack on top of one another.

Slowly the snowman took shape. Twigs became arms. He had a carrot nose and blue buttons for eyes. When the eyes went on, Joni heard little squeals of delight from the baby. Joni looked over at the bouncing child. She and her Mom looked so happy. Her Mom had an inner glow. A glow that was less bright now, than it was then.

Joni walked over to her babbling sister and cooed, “Looks like Daddy, doesn’t he?”

“Not quite, Dove,” he tilted his head, squinting in thought, “Something’s missing,” he turned back toward the house, speaking as he went, “Wait a tick. Be right back.”

He disappeared into the house and reappeared a few minutes later, carrying an old leather coat.

Joni heard her Mom sniffle a little as the three of them watched as he draped the old leather duster across the back of the snowman. He stepped back and nodded, “There. Now he’s finished.”

That was when Mabel was two.

There have been five snowmen since that night. It became a tradition. No snowman was truly complete until the leather was brought out. After the snowman was finished, they’d all go inside for a cup of hot cocoa. Daddy would have his with the miniature marshmallows. They’d all watch the snow blowing outside while they were safe and warm inside.

Joni loved that memory. She was afraid that, this year, there would be no snowman. Because, her Daddy would be gone.

Joni really envied her little sister. She had clear memories. Her sister had memories, instead of the fog and emptiness that she had.

Joni couldn’t remember anything before the age of eight. Nothing. Not one giggle, not one story or event. Nothing. And she wondered why.

Last night, as she was helping her Mom calm Mabel down after she’d witnessed her father’s true face, a plan began to form in her mind. After Mabel had fallen asleep and her mother was sure that Daddy had been properly sedated and comfortable, and had gone to bed herself; Joni slipped into her Daddy’s room.

As Joni looked down at the blue, bloodless strands that disfigured her father’s face and hands, his entire body really, her heart screamed in agony. She was in pain just seeing him. Her mind could barely fathom what he was feeling.

In his rare moments of consciousness, he was denied the blessing of lucidity. His world was inhabited by hallucinations and delusions. Most of them were of horrors she wouldn’t have wished on anyone. He hadn’t made cogent sense in months. And he looked so peaceful now, which was so rare, that she hated to disturb him.

It was clear though, that her Uncle Angel knew something to do with her childhood and her lost memories. When she’d tried to talk to her Mom about it, she became evasive.

It seemed as if her Mom was trying to hide something from her.

Well no more. Aunt Willow’s books had been a great help. Joni kissed her Daddy on the cheek, “Daddy, I love you,” she whispered. She didn’t know if her words were reaching him anymore. But it didn’t matter. She needed to say them.

Once again she stared into her Daddy’s face and wondered. Did he know what it was she was about to do?

She took a deep breath and softly said the words she hoped would let her see what had been veiled, “Erebus, spirit of darkness, flee my mind. Let me see beyond the river Lethe, the river of forgetfulness, to the other shore. Let me know what must be known. Let me see what I cannot.”
******************************************************

DECEMBER 9, 2005- LOS ANGELES

The room was full of bright, round colors. No sharp edges here. This was a room just waiting for a little girl to make it hers. What little girl wouldn’t flutter with happiness at the sight of that rainbow on the wall, and that bright blue sky? Stephen was almost a man, and even he was impressed at the care and thought that had gone into this room. There was even a cradle sitting silently in the center of the room.

It looked forlorn. As if it knew it would never fulfill its purpose.

This was meant to be a place of comfort and warmth.

It wasn’t now though. Now it was unfamiliar and sharp to the one person it was supposed to protect. That wasn’t the girl’s fault.

No, that fault lay squarely on his father’s shoulders.

As Stephen looked at the eyes staring wide-eyed at him from the corner of the room, he wondered, had his father seen the same look in his eyes when he’d returned from the only world he’d known? He’d wondered too, if he’d be able to reach her. He himself was sixteen when he’d come back. His mind could understand, could survive the shock this world was to him. But could she?

He crouched, making sure his head was a little lower than hers. Until he knew different, the submissive posture was best. He looked up at her and spoke slowly and distinctly, “Hello Jonina. My name is Stephen. It’s nice to meet you. Can you understand me?”

She nodded. And Stephen noticed that she pulled the tattered plush rabbit she carried closer to her, as if to protect herself from him.

“Easy. I won’t hurt you. Can you talk?”

She pouted and tilted her head, sizing him up. Her eyes flashed with indignant flame. The sound was feral, and just barely qualified as human, but he understood it perfectly as it rose from deep within her, “Yes!” she growled.

Stephen could tell that she was fighting the fear and exhaustion she felt. He knew he would get no more from her tonight, “That’s good,” he said softly as he backed out of the room, “We’ll talk some more tomorrow.”

Stephen closed the door with a heavy sigh. Turning his eyes to Buffy’s anxious face, he tried to tune out the keening that was rising beyond the door, “We’re not getting anywhere tonight. She’s too frightened. She’s just too traumatized.”

“I did that to her,” Buffy cried, “I took her from the only home she’s ever known. I tore her from his arms! We have to get him back. We just have to.”
***********************************

NOVEMBER 20, 2027- NEW HOPE CEMETERY

The girl was bloodthirsty. He could feel it. In a place that had to accept death, she sought to cheat it. It gave his old bones a rush watching her prowl these grounds.

But there was something reckless about her tonight. Tonight she didn’t care, and that was what chilled him most.

It was usually a careful stroll. But, not tonight, tonight she had to be stopped.

Leaving his post at the window, Homer sighed and put his hand on the doorknob, preparing to leave this shelter to do his duty. And that was, to watch over her.
*************************************************

IN THE INTERRUGNUM-HIGHER PLANE-

Spike was nearly prostrate with gratitude and awe. And he could see, from the look on Buffy’s face, that she was as well.

He felt his whole body tighten, waiting for the catch.

She seemed to sense this, “Spike,” she said, with a trace of the sweetness he knew very well, “that was our wedding present for you,” she held her companion closer to her, grinning in a way he’d never seen before, “You’ve done so much for us. Don’t you want it?”

“Oh very much,” he sighed. He looked over at the man next to her and nodded, “I think you know just how much.”

The man nodded, knowingly.

“But, it can’t be at her expense. I’m sure you understand.”

“We do,” she said, “And the very fact that you were willing to give it up, shows us so much. I think this gift will keep. But, in return for this delay, would you do something for us?”

Buffy couldn’t speak. So, Spike spoke for the both of them, “Anything!” he breathed, “Anything Edith!”

William had to smile at the being Spike had become, and he voiced the concern they both felt, “Keep Jonina out of trouble. I love her. You know I do. But, I don’t want to have to keep prowling around graveyards for eternity. Make sure she stays away from trouble.”

“You mean all we have to do is…”

“Yes,” William assured him, “You’ve already shown them how to beat, ‘Lace,” and done enough penance. Don’t you think?”

They both nodded, emphatically and said in unison, “Yes!”
**************************************************

Chapter 69:

NOVEMBER 19, 2027-NEW ENGLAND-

Joni felt the atmosphere around her shimmer and shift, as if the air itself were sliding into a place it didn’t belong. She opened her eyes and found herself, once again, in her Daddy’s room.

Aunt Willow never told her spells could be that rough. She sniffed and put a hand under her nose, feeling wetness there. Her hand came away with a red smear. Damn, now her nose was bleeding. She quickly looked at her father. He hadn’t stirred. If the scent of blood couldn’t wake him, she was almost certain nothing would.

The images flashed in her mind so quickly that they nearly made her vomit. Some of these things had to be part of her Daddy’s illness. Connecting with him must have made her susceptible to his confusion. The things she’d seen, they just couldn’t be true. Not all the Slayers had died. She wasn’t alone. Her Uncle was never a vampire. True, he’d never really talked about the past. But, her Mom would have told her if something like that had happened. It was the kind of thing that a Slayer would know about.

And most of all, her mother hadn’t died. She was still alive. Yet Joni could still hear the echoes of her Daddy’s sobs. She could still remember, in her little girl way, wanting desperately to hear her Daddy’s voice and see him smile again, if only for a moment.

Her heart still ached with need. Joni could remember wanting to make it all go away so that her Daddy wouldn’t be angry with her. But she didn’t know how to make it better.

She could still see the empty look in his eyes as they stared out into the darkness. He would cry for hours on end, mindlessly rocking his body in a gentle motion, which reminded her of the way he used to rock her when she’d awakened from a nightmare. There were times that he didn’t even know her. He would stare right through her, like she wasn’t even there. He wouldn’t eat or sleep. He was just waiting to die.

She could remember promising to be good. She’d promised to eat all those yucky beets he said were so good for her, if he would just look at her.

When her Aunt Willow took him to Rome, to the hospital, she cried. And, she cried hard. Why was he leaving her? What had she done? Whatever it was, she swore she wouldn’t ever do it again. If only he would stay and look at her like he used to.

But, before she knew it, he was gone, and it was because of her. She’d taken Mommy away, and now her Daddy was leaving too.

She just wanted him back. But, he stayed away for a whole year, and she knew it was because of her. He said it wasn’t, but she knew. She knew that she had taken Mommy away from him. And she wanted to make it right.

She remembered. She knew it could not have happened. Yet she still remembered it all, in painful clarity. Could it be true, somehow?

No, it couldn’t be true. Her mother was a Slayer, and so was she. Maybe that would explain it. Still, no Slayer dream felt this way. None of the other dreams were this detailed.

And, that old man, who was he to her? He was the only thing that made sense. He looked so familiar, like she should know him. His name was on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to be spoken. But she couldn’t seem to say it. She knew he was important. But how could that be, when she’d never seen him before?

Joni left her father’s room in a daze. There were just so many pieces to fit together that she didn’t know where to begin.

Walking softly down the hall, she thought about asking her mother. But, then she thought better of it. It was obvious to her that her mother was trying to hide something from her.

No. Her only option now was her Uncle Angel.

She didn’t want to leave the house now. She could feel the pallor of death hanging in the air, more now than it ever had before. She wasn’t sure her Daddy could hold on much longer. But, she needed answers. To find them she needed to leave.

Taking a breath, and silently sending her Daddy all her strength in the hope that he would still be when she returned, she walked out the door.

Her Daddy wasn’t leaving her again.
************************************************

IN THE INTERREGNUM-HIGHER PLANE

Spike felt fear creeping up his limbs as he stared at Buffy. Shock he’d expected. He’d even shocked himself a little, but once the words were out of his mouth they just seemed right.

This was more than shock. Buffy looked as though she’d been hit by a two-by-four. It was more than just unnerving, this was bordering on terrifying. He looked into her face and said slowly, “Buffy, are you all right?”

She blinked and swallowed hard. The vague ache that she felt suddenly became unbearable to her. Now she understood. And she couldn’t believe what he was willing to give up, for his family and the world. It was amazing. If she could find a way to show him what this meant to her, if there was any way she could ease the pain she knew his choice would cause, she would take it, “Spike, I… I didn’t know.”

He smirked, “Neither did I, Love. But, that’s not important now. It’s Joni that matters,” he swore he could still get lost in her eyes. Even here, he was amazed, and more than a bit humbled by the pride she seemed to have in him, “The rest will keep. It will wait. Now’s not the time.”

“But, what you’re giving up,” her eyes welled up with tears at the thought of what he’d just been given, and what he’d just handed back; all for her sake, “Why would you do that?”

Spike was still amazed at her. This was the woman who somehow, just with her very presence in his world, had changed his nature and made this a possibility, and she was asking him why.

He held her face gently in his hands and said simply, “I meant what I said, Buffy. He can have his prophecy. He may seem to have everything, but appearances can be deceiving. Having you, and the girls, that means I have everything. My reward just comes a little later now, is all,” he said as his eyes twinkled a bit.

Buffy sighed into Spike’s chest, “You sound like a Watcher.”

“I suppose I do,” he agreed, “I’ve been watching over my girls long enough.”

Buffy gasped as realization hit her and she looked at Spike with fright in her eyes, “Wait, Spike. Would that mean that you would have to…?”

“Not everything is as it seems, Pet,” his lips curled into the familiar smirk that told Buffy he was up to something, “You know I’m certainly not.”

Buffy couldn’t help but admire the passion he had. She’d never seen anything so intense in any being, living or dead. And, it astounded her. Amazement colored her tone as she held him tight, “Now there’s the understatement of…ever.”
*******************************

DECEMBER 4, 2005- ROME

Giles scribbled furiously, trying to transcribe what he heard, “That’s l-o-t-e-r? Yes, I’ve got it,” he shook his head, “ Yes, we do have people who can help us to locate him. Stephen Riley will be taking the next flight to the States, and Los Angeles. He may be of assistance in that. Can you gain access to the object in question? I see. Well, I will put you in touch with an associate of ours. She is acquainted with Spike, as well as the former C.E.O. of the Los Angeles branch. She will tell you where your search may be most fruitful. Once you find it, please make sure it gets to Mrs. Buffy Summers-Dustin-number 80 Jennings Street- Los Angeles. No, I will tell her to expect it. Thank you for your help, Miss Johansen. Pia,” he smiled, “Yes, thank God for the computer age. Everything still has a paper trail. Thank you again,” he said as he hung up the phone.

“Well,” Xander pressed, “What did she say? Did Wolfram and Hart have a file on Spike or not?”

“Yes they did. They opened the file when it was discovered that he wore the amulet, rather than Angel. It seems that the firm had intended to coerce Angel to do their bidding first by giving him power, then by tying him to their firm through the amulet,” Giles sighed, “It was hoped, apparently, that he would be grateful for his ‘rescue,’ and overlook some of the firm’s more shady dealings.”

“ ‘Rescue?’ From where?” Dawn asked.

“From a dimension called X’yxeth. It’s a Loterminenthalogcial dimension.”

“A who?” Xander questioned.

“A dimension where one’s most hidden thoughts are collected, and made real.”

“You mean, like the time the kid in the coma made all of our nightmares come true?”

“Yes Xander, I suppose I do. Except, rather than a localized disturbance, as was the case in Sunnydale, essentially, an entire world could be populated with terrors such as we experienced.”

“Oh,” Xander groaned, “That could be bad.”

“Indeed.”

“But, Angel didn’t wear the amulet. Spike did. What does that mean for him?” Dawn bit her lip and her eyes widened with worry, “What was the amulet supposed to do?”

“The amulet was designed to hold Angel prisoner. Until he agreed to Wolfram and Hart’s terms of release,” Giles said grimly.

“What terms?” Dawn asked.

“Allow the apocalypse to proceed, unchallenged. Angel only discovered the true nature of the talisman when he became C.E.O. of Wolfram and Hart. By then, it was too late to help Spike.”

Dawn was horrified, “You mean, that Angel let Fred die, and possibly the Slayers, because he was trying to get Spike out of there?”

“Yes,” Giles lowered his eyes and his voice was barely a whisper, “I’m afraid so.”

“And, did they come through with their end of the deal.”

“No.”

“Which just proves that lawyers are evil personified,” Xander commented, “Angel should have seen that one coming.”

“So,” Dawn asked, “ Spike is still trapped there?”

Giles nodded, “There is a portion of his soul that was not released into the ether when he rescued Buffy from Drusilla. So yes. A part of him is still trapped there.”

Dawn could feel her throat tightening, “And, what happens to Spike, or us, if we try to get him back?”

“There’s no way to know.”
*********************************

HOURS EARLIER- LOS ANGELES

His transient turn as a member of the human race had done nothing to prepare him for how much his body hurt. As a vampire, Angel had never wanted to run into the Slayer, for obvious reasons. Now, as a human, he was sure he didn’t. He was released from the hospital ten days ago, and his body was still bruised.

He was just about to try to sleep, try to put his surreal existence to rest and start to forget the look of emptiness in William’s eyes, a look that not even his daughters could remove after Buffy died.

Except, she hadn’t died. That had all been a lie cooked up by the Senior Partners to make him feel guilty. But maybe it wasn’t a lie. Maybe it was a type of Hell. Maybe watching Buffy die, and seeing what it had done to Spike, was his punishment for leaving Spike in that place.

Perhaps it was his conscience, feeble as it was, that made him persist in that place for thirty years. Or maybe it was Spike. Perhaps he was exacting vengeance somehow by making him watch the last of his family weaken and die, and then make him unable to fulfill his last family member’s dying wish; to take care of his children.

And then there was the ghostly visitation in the hospital. Were those just figments of a fevered brain? Was what he’d seen just the consequence of his new state of being? He wasn’t sure.

But, whichever, or whatever, was behind it, it meant one thing to him. Somehow, Spike still existed. And, if he still existed, Angel knew that this type of torment was the least he deserved for consigning Spike to that horror.

Just as he was about to drift off into his nightmares, the phone rang. He thought about ignoring it, but then realized he couldn’t, and slowly rose from his bed and stumbled in the dark to answer the insistent bell, “Liam Donovan,” he was surprised at how quickly the name came to him; it had been so long since he’d had occasion to use his human name, “Who is this, and why are you calling me at this hour?”

The tone on the other end of the line was terse and familiar, “So sorry,” Giles snipped, “but as you are the only being who has even had a glimpse of William Dustin in weeks, sadly, you are our first stop, as it were. It may also interest you to know that Willow was able to retrieve Buffy and Joni from inter-dimensional space, but was unable to ascertain where, or even if, Spike still exists. And, it seems that, the child, who only weeks ago was an infant, is now an apparently feral, and understandably frightened, young girl who is eight years of age,” his tone was sarcastic and biting, “ Forgive my rudeness, but we thought perhaps you could enlighten us.”

Angel sank heavily into the chair that was part of the dinette set near the wall-mounted telephone as he ran his hands nervously through his hair, “Oh the amulet. I was hoping that wasn’t true. That, it was just another of Wolfram and Hart’s lies.”

“Sadly, that does not seem to be the case.”

Angel took a deep breath, “Okay, Giles. You know that modern philosophy holds that there are four elements to existence. Earth, air, fire, and water, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, medieval philosophy held that there was a fifth. It permeated all existence, all beings. Not just human beings. It was called quintessence. It was believed to be a being in its purest form. It was what celestial beings were composed of. It’s what the seraphim are made of, if you believe that kind of thing. Wolfram and Hart sought to trap that, and use it to their advantage. Hold it for ransom, until I did what they wanted me to do.”

“But, you didn’t behave as they had hoped.”

“No, I didn’t,” Angel sighed, “Or, maybe I did. I don’t know. In any case, Spike played the hero, and paid the price.”
******************************************

DECEMBER 6, 2005- SYNERGY DOJO

A few days ago Rupert Giles called her at her home and told her about what Wolfram and Hart had expected from “Mr. Angel” when they transferred control of the Los Angeles branch to him. Georgina knew now what the amulet had done. And, she knew what it had done to Spike.

Rupert Giles did not have to enlist her help in aiding a paralegal from the Cleveland office in her quest to find the amulet. She would have volunteered.

So, when a call from Rupert Giles came through, Georgina transferred it quickly to Buffy in the apartment above and busied herself trying to get lost in the minutia of organizing the files on her computer. It was easy to forget about where Spike could be when she had the much smaller chaos of time management to deal with.

She looked up from her work when she felt a cold shadow fall over her. She looked up and was amazed by who it was that was standing in front of her. Georgina could not believe he’d dared to even show his face, “What are you doing here?” she nearly spat out the words.

Angel gave a slight smile and took a deep breath, “Hello George. It’s good to see you.”

Sea-grey eyes looked back at him, “Can’t say I can say the same,” she said calmly, “And it’s Georgina to you.”

Angel swallowed hard, “Fine. I’m here to see Buffy…and Joni. I heard. Is she all right?”

“We don’t know. No one’s been able to reach her. And, I’m fairly certain that Buffy wouldn’t want you anywhere near her,” Georgina placed her hand just below the burglar alarm button that was mounted under her desk, more than ready to press it if she needed to, “So, why don’t you just turn around now, and I might forget I saw you here.”

“Sorry George. I can’t do that. If Buffy wants to throw me out, I’ll let her tell me.”

Georgina Whitby-Robert had been taught the finer things of etiquette. It was part of her upbringing. After all, she did come from old money. But all of that refinement and breeding went by the wayside as she stared at this unapologetic man. His transformation had taught him nothing that she could see, about being human.

She could feel the rage building as she slowly made her way around the desk. Positioning herself squarely in front of him, she refused to let his size deter her. Her chest burned with a smoldering fire as she confronted him. She advanced as she spoke, slowly causing him to retreat, “Why you arrogant son of a…” she reached up and shoved him, low in his chest, catching him by surprise and making him stagger back a step, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she advanced still more, “Now get out before I forget that I’m a lady!”

The menacing voice of the Slayer spoke from behind her, “Don’t get your hands dirty, Georgie. Let me take care of this.”

Georgina looked over her shoulder at Buffy’s tired face, “You’re sure? Because I’d be more than happy to…”

Buffy smiled sadly, “I know. But this is my fight.”

George eyed Angel warily, “If you’re sure.”

Buffy nodded, “I’m sure,” her eyes glinted dangerously at Angel, “Why don’t you pick Stephen up from the airport?” Buffy suggested, “It’ll give Angel and I a chance to catch up on things.”

“Okay,” Georgina said, as she headed for the entrance, “But if he’s here when I get back, I can’t be held responsible for what happens.”

After being sure that Georgina was out of earshot, Buffy turned to Angel and said, in a low, menacing voice, a voice that told Angel that she had no compunction about carrying through on her promise, “Now, Angel. You tell me where my husband is, and how I get him back where he should be, or I will kill you. Do you understand me?”
*******************************

IN THE INTERREGNUM-

Things were worse when he remembered. The other beasts here could sense when he was weak and would attack him. To survive here, he had to forget the sounds from his dreams. Because, when he remembered, he was weak.

He had tried to forget, but he could not. He knew it was better to forget, that forgetting would make him strong. But the strange other world was all he had. In the other world there were sounds that held meaning, but here there was no sound, no meaning.

So, he held on even though he knew he should not, to the things from that world he still understood.

He held on to the Promise. And he held on to Love.

Without them, he was numb. The other world was full of things he had forgotten. Sometimes he would try to reach out and grasp the edges and try to pull them close. He should have been able to catch these things. The hunt was what he knew. He was patient. But when he came close to knowing what these strange things were, they would skitter away faster than the small things he fed upon.

And he would weep at the loss. In that world there were things like him. Things were soft. The softness was pleasing. And he knew Love.

When he woke, they were gone, his warm, soft things. And he didn’t know how to get them back. Eventually, he grew to accept that he would never be warm again.

This was his world now. There was no going back. Here, there was no sound, nothing like him. There was only him. There was only now. The other world was a foolish thing.

Still he had hope that soon he would remember. To keep that light in the distance, he began to practice making the sounds. First, from his dreams and then he began giving the things around him sounds and meaning. He did all this in the hope that She would come for him now, as She had in his dreams.
******************************************************

NOVEMBER 20, 2027- NEW HOPE CEMETERY

There was more than just sadness here tonight. It had been years since Homer had felt anything like it, but he knew it well. He knew the smell of it, and could practically taste it in the air. And as he slowly rounded the Morris plot, he saw her.

She was vengeance personified. Her eyes were blazing and her jaw was set. He remembered that feeling. For years it was all that sustained him.

But it wasn’t right for her. Someone that delicate, that beautiful, should never feel that. It would destroy her. And, he knew that if he didn’t stop her, she would be trapped in its snare. She would be cold and alone, much as he had been before she came.

He couldn’t allow that to happen. Not this time.
************************************

Her Uncle Angel was going to explain this. As she stalked through the cemetery, she tried to clear her vision of the angry tears that kept flowing down her cheeks. He was going to explain the blank spots in her memory. And, he would explain why her Daddy had nearly killed him last night. And, why her Daddy was leaving her.

After he explained all of that, she was going to kill him.

A voice, sounding from near her feet, stopped her cold, “No you won’t, Joni. Slayers aren’t killers. You’re not a killer.”

Joni looked indignantly at the little old man who had the audacity to speak as if he knew her. Her mouth opened and she was going to put him in his place. She was going to tell him that he should mind his own business, when he brushed the earth from the plot he’d been tending to from his hands, slowly stood, and turned to look at her.

It was then that the rebuke died in her throat. The air seemed to shimmer and slide again, and she blinked. For just an instant, he looked like her Daddy. But, that couldn’t be. The grief must be doing things to my head, she thought.

She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling dizzy, “Who are you?”

The trace of a smirk pulled at his mouth, “No one important. But, will you stop and listen to an old man, before you do something rash?”

Joni could only nod.

“Good,” Homer said.
**************************************

DECEMBER 9, 2005-LOS ANGELES

“But, Buffy, there had to be a reason Spike told you to leave him there,” Willow knew that she was the wrong person to make this argument, considering her actions in the recent past. She bit her lip, unsure she should even breathe the words, “Maybe we should…do as he asked?”

Buffy whirled on her in fury, “Willow, How can you say that? Stephen has tried for days to reach her. She’s only said one word since we came back,” Buffy sniffed back her tears, “She is wild, Will. And, she’s scared. Nothing here is familiar to her. Nothing makes sense,” a sob shook through her, “I remember what that’s like. She needs the one person she knows. She needs her Daddy, Will. And, so do I.”

“I’ll try,” Willow gave in, even though she knew there would be consequences, “But in order to attempt this kind of retrieval, I will need the catalyst for the original spell. In other words, I will need the amulet.”

“It’s on its way, Willow. A paralegal from the Cleveland office found it. But she has to send it on the sly. She has to do this under the Senior Partners’ radar. So, it should be here in three days.”

“Until then,” Willow said, “why don’t you and Stephen try again to reach Joni?”
***********************************************

The room was full of bright, round colors. No sharp edges here. This was a room just waiting for a little girl to make it hers. What little girl wouldn’t flutter with happiness at the sight of that rainbow on the wall, and that bright blue sky? Stephen was almost a man, and even he was impressed at the care and thought that had gone into this room. There was even a cradle sitting silently in the center of the room.

It looked forlorn. As if it knew it would never fulfill its purpose.

This was meant to be a place of comfort and warmth.

It wasn’t now though. Now it was unfamiliar and sharp to the one person it was supposed to protect. That wasn’t the girl’s fault.

No, that fault lay squarely on his father’s shoulders.

As Stephen looked at the eyes staring wide-eyed at him from the corner of the room, he wondered. Had his father seen the same look in his eyes when he’d returned from the only world he’d known? He’d wondered too, if he’d be able to reach her. He himself was sixteen when he’d come back. His mind could understand, could survive the shock this world was to him. But could she?

He crouched, making sure his head was a little lower than hers. Until he knew different, the submissive posture was best. He looked up at her and spoke slowly and distinctly, “Hello Jonina. My name is Stephen. It’s nice to meet you. Can you understand me?”

She nodded. And Stephen noticed that she pulled the tattered plush rabbit she carried closer to her, as if to protect herself from him.

“Easy. I won’t hurt you. Can you talk?”

She pouted and tilted her head, sizing him up. Her eyes flashed with indignant flame. The sound was feral, and just barely qualified as human, but he understood it perfectly as it rose from deep within her, “Yes!” she growled.

Stephen could tell that she was fighting the fear and exhaustion she felt. He knew he would get no more from her tonight, “That’s good,” he said softly as he backed out of the room, “We’ll talk some more tomorrow.”

Stephen closed the door with a heavy sigh. Turning his eyes to Buffy’s anxious face, he tried to tune out the keening that was rising beyond the door, “We’re not getting anywhere tonight. She’s too frightened. She’s just too traumatized.”

“I did that to her,” Buffy cried, “I took her from the only home she’s ever known. I tore her from his arms! We have to get him back. We just have to.”
***********************************

IN THE INTERREGNUM-

He’d nearly forgotten it had been so long. Night after night he’d wept and howled, looking up at the sky.

He’d become reckless, wanting the other beasts to attack him, hoping that, one day he would finally be swept up, and found worthy, to be with them.

But, something within him knew it was not to be. He was a beast. A lowly creature. A creature that did not deserve their warmth.

Then one blessed night, it happened. He was on a hunt when he felt the wind bite at his skin and the sky began to rumble. A loud, pounding rhythm filled his whole being. It was hypnotic and compelling. He followed it blindly, knowing within himself that it would somehow lead to Her.

In the blackness of night, he saw the sky open up. There She stood, floating in the air, just beyond the rise. And, She looked so warm and good. He had to be a part of it. Even if She shunned him.

He forgot everything. Saw her alone, and ran. He ran to their warmth. He ran to things remembered.

He ran to Her.
********************************************


DECEMBER 12, 2005-

Buffy couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as she opened the envelope, and took out what was inside. She hadn’t had this in her hands in over two years. If she had understood what it had done to him, she never would have given it back to Angel.

The paper fluttered silently to the ground as she ran out of the room, calling out, “Willow, it’s here! We have to do this. I can’t leave him there any longer.”
************************************

With Joni calmed enough to sit quietly on her lap, and Stephen flanking her just in case he came back as feral as Joni did, she tried to listen to what Willow was saying, “…Now remember, Buffy. This is just like the guidance spell. All you have to do is focus on him and I, and the amulet, will do the rest. Just try to breathe normally.”

Buffy tried to focus on just breathing in and out. Her mind was racing and her heart was pounding. She could feel the heat and electricity in the air. Then she felt the familiar warmth that she had before, when Homer appeared.

Her breath hitched as she saw the flash of light bloom behind her closed eyelids, and her ribcage vibrated with the impending sonic blast.

Buffy reached down to cover her daughter’s ears, and sighed with relief when she did not flinch at her touch.

The silence that followed was suffocating, and was broken by the sob of a little girl as she was reunited with the only other being she knew in the entire world, “Daddy!” Joni cried as she flew from her mother’s lap and sought the only comfort she knew; the comfort of her father’s arms.

Buffy had never seen anything as beautiful as his shocked, frightened, golden gaze as he instinctively held her. The golden shock turned to blue disbelief as his gaze fell to her. The sound that came was more animal than human, but she would have understood it in any language.

“Buffy,” he growled as he ran toward her and took her in his arms.

Passion nearly overtook her as he nuzzled her neck and growled possessively, gently laving the closed puncture marks with his tongue. A shiver ran through her when he sighed against her and his fangs brushed her skin with a feather-light touch. It was as if he were asking her permission to take in the elixir that she knew he’d been denied. Sighing his name, her fingers tenderly held him in place.

She was blissfully ignorant of the tears that fell from both their eyes when she felt the brief sting of his fangs as they broke the tender flesh there.
********************************************

DECEMBER 2, 2027- NEW ENGLAND-

Her vision blurred again as she looked at his sleeping form. It had been nearly two weeks since she had even seen Joni.

Maybe she sensed her father was dying. Maybe she blamed her. Heaven knew she blamed herself. Her voice shook as she pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, as it entwined with hers, “Spike, it was a long, slow road back, then. But you made it. We had…so much. We have so much,” she swallowed the knife that was slicing her throat and making it difficult to speak, “Oh, God, if I had known what that spell would do to you, maybe I would’ve…no,” she shook her head, “I would have done it, even if I had known. I’m selfish that way. You knew I would do it, didn’t you?” Buffy tentatively brushed her fingers across the amulet she held in the pocket of her dungarees, “Willow says it’s the only way to stop this. But, I don’t know if I can do it. What if,” she stopped, as sobs once again took her speech. She rested her head against his chest and whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”
************************************************************************

Joni hadn’t meant to stay away so long, and as the sound of her footsteps rang in her ears, she couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to put it together. Everything the old man said suddenly made sense.

As she ran toward the house she wondered how many times, and how many different ways her Daddy had to hurt, before now. Before she finally understood.

How long had that old man been waiting for her, in that cemetery? How long had he been there, and she hadn’t noticed him? How long had her Daddy been waiting?

The tears ran down her face as she ran, “Oh, Daddy, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
***********************************************

Buffy’s sorrow was broken by the loud crash of the sickroom’s door opening. She looked over at the intrusion to see her daughter grinning with tears sliding down her face, “I get it now Daddy!” she said triumphantly, “I finally get it. It all fits!”

Buffy was sure the stress of her father’s illness had broken her, “Joni, please,” she breathed, “Calm down.”

Joni’s intense brown eyes held her mother’s gaze, “Mom, you trusted me when you rescinded the Slayer awakening spell, didn’t you?”

Buffy nodded, wordlessly.

“Then trust me now. Aunt Georgie can watch after Daddy,” Joni grabbed at her mother’s hand and gently pulled her along, “You still have the amulet?”

Buffy gave another stunned nod.

“Come with me,” Joni said, as she led her mother out of the house.
************************************

The caretaker in the cemetery watched their approach, safely hidden behind a stone. He had forgotten how beautiful she was.

He could see her trembling with emotion, even from this distance as she slowly took the amulet out of her pocket and set it on the nearest stone, “That’s it, Love,” he whispered, “You can do this. Help me. Let me be with you, when the time comes. Love me enough to let me go. Trust that I’ll be with you. There’s no other place I’d rather be.”

Through her tears, Buffy brought the amulet back and just as she was about to smash it against the stone, she caught sight of the caretaker’s eyes, peering at her from behind a stone. A warmth of recognition shot through her, “Homer,” she whispered as the crystal shattered against the stone.

A warm breeze, unusual for December in New England, brushed softly by her cheek. Buffy could swear that she heard a voice in that breeze that said, “Thank you.”

Buffy wiped tears from her eyes as her cell phone chirped, “Hello?”

Georgie’s ecstatic voice sounded in her ears, “Buffy! I don’t know what you did, but…it’s gone! Like someone flipped a light switch or something. He woke up and he recognized everyone! Little Mabel,” Georgie laughed, “Even Xander! It’s like a miracle, Buffy. You have got to see this for yourself.”

Buffy closed her phone in a daze and looked up at Joni, “Joni your Daddy…he’s awake! I have to get back to him,” she said as she started running in the direction of the house.

Joni smiled as she watched her Mom running toward their house, “Okay Mom. I’m right behind you,” as she ran she whispered to the sky, “I love you Daddy.”

THE END