Regaining Memories

By Rachel

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Spike once again loses Buffy, but 100 years later, she returns. However, her return isn't what he expected. As the two of them are trying to deal with what's going on, the two have the apocalypse to deal with.

Spoilers: Let's just say everything up to "Hell's Bells" or so. I started writing this post-"Hells Bells" and the suddenly quit and didn't restart until mid-June. This takes place 100 years from then, but bits and pieces of 6th season especially will show up. So spoilers from the season finale (Especially the ending) aren't in this story.

Author’s Notes: <_______> Signifies thoughts. *________* Signifies stressed words. Scenes in Italics are flashbacks/dreams.

Distribution: My site, Sinister Attraction, the groups I'm sending them out to, and....anyone else can just ask me first! (I'll probably say 'yes')

Feedback? OF COURSE!

Special Thanks: I just want to thank Sandy, who beta-ed the fic for me. Thanks for all the tips and comments, you're too sweet! This story would have never been posted anywhere if it weren't for you talking me into it!

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It was a bright and sunny day. Spike was dressed in his usual all black outfit and leather jacket and was surrounded by a huge crowd of strangers. The sun was beaming down on him, forcing Spike to squint as he gazed at the people standing around him. <Funny, there's sunlight out,> he thought to himself. Immediately, he knew that something was wrong with this scenario.

When the crowd unexpectedly parted, Spike suddenly saw a familiar face standing in front of him. She was wearing a dark blue dress that fell to the ground, something elegant that he'd never seen her wear before. Her hazel eyes were glistening in the sunlight, and Spike had never before seen a bigger smile on her face before.

That "familiar face" was Buffy.

<This is unreal,> he told himself. <It's bloody impossible.> Spike stared at Buffy for another second before wondering, <Can this really be happening?>. All of the strangers suddenly disappeared in a flash; yet, it took Spike a moment to realize that standing there, less than twenty feet away from him, was his love that he had lost so long ago. Spike started to walk up to her, and Buffy did the same, her pace quickening by the second.

Buffy ran up to Spike and flew into his open arms. Spike looked down at her and placed his hands over her cheeks, feeling her warm skin. He trailed his fingers down her cheeks before they lightly traveled across her lips. Buffy kissed his fingers before she started raising her head, her lips begging to be kissed. When Spike met lips with Buffy, his world exploded. He hungrily continued the kiss, wanting to hold onto his golden goddess for an eternity.

The two kissed forever, neither one of them wanting to pull back and stop; but Buffy slowly pulled back. "Spike," she started. "Can you wait for me a little bit longer?"

"I'll always be waiting for you, love."

"Good, because I'm back. Can you believe it? I'm back!" she said, excitedly.

<She sounds like the same, happy Buffy that I used to know,> Spike thought, grinning down at her as he felt her warm breath blow past his cheeks. "Back?" he questioned.

"Terrible things are coming," Buffy spoke.

"Aren't they always?" Spike asked, his grin turning into his usual smirk.

"I'm serious. Spike...you have to be ready. Be ready for anything," Buffy commanded. "And find her. Find the Slayer."

"Find the slayer?" Spike asked her, not understanding what she was trying to tell him. "I...I don't understand-"

"I missed you," she said, changing the subject once again.

"I miss you more each day," he whispered. Spike smiled as he breathed in her sweet scent of vanilla and flowers. Then, Buffy stood on her tiptoes to reach his mouth and kiss him once again.

<Spike, you must wake. Find the new Slayer,> Buffy's voice murmured in his head. Then, before Spike could respond, he felt himself being pulled out of the dream.

~~~

Spike awoke in his bed with a jolt. "Bloody hell," he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes. That dream had felt so vivid and realistic, so different than the numerous dreams he had of his slayer.

"Find the new Slayer?" he whispered to himself as he rubbed his eyes. "Why?" He didn't know whether the dream was from his overactive imagination or...perhaps Buffy was actually trying to contact him. He quickly shook that thought out of his head. If Buffy had wanted to contact him, she would have done it much earlier, like around the time where when he had come close to killing himself.

Demons in the underground were calling the current slayer the next Buffy Summers. She'd been called at age sixteen and was already nearing her twenty-first birthday, making her one of only three slayers to have lived this that long.

The current slayer was said to have the exact same qualities of Buffy Summers, the legendary slayer who had died three times, had two vampire lovers, and left a legacy for all future slayers. She fought in a style that no one had ever seen before, able to outsmart demons with her witty puns and fast roundhouse kicks. She had saved the world countless times and somehow managed to lead a life at school and with her friends. She had an untamed Watcher, and her friends bravely fought at her side. For those reasons, Spike had refused to see her.

He didn't want to risk bringing back all the memories that he had of Buffy. Next month would mark the 100th-year anniversary of her death, and her death was entirely his fault.

~~~

TBC...

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On the evening of February 14, 2004, Tara, Willow, Xander, and Anya were out at the Bronze for their annual Valentine's Day Party. Even Dawn was out with her friends dancing at the Bronze. Dawn planned to sleep over at a friend's house that night after the party where she would get to gossip about boys and have a little bit of fun. Because of this, Buffy was at home by herself with her only plan to eventually go patrolling.

The doorbell rang, and as Buffy walked up it, she wondered who would be visiting her at this time of night when everyone that she knew was out having fun. She opened the door and saw Spike standing on her welcome mat.

Ever since they had broken up for the final time, Spike and Buffy had slowly formed a tentative friendship, trying to hold together a relationship like they had before Buffy kissed him for the first time that night in the alley. It had taken time and hard work on both sides, but at least on the outside, it seemed to be working. As long as Spike never brought up their secret past, Buffy never fought against seeing him.

"Spike, hey," she greeted with a small smile of her face. "What are you doing here?"

Spike paused, taking a second to glance at the woman he loved. Yes, he still loved her in every possible way. After their final break up, Spike had fought to keep some type of relationship to with the slayer, thinking up every possible way that he would at least be able to *see* her even if he wasn't allowed to touch her. If patrolling and babysitting Dawn were his only chances of interacting with Buffy, he would take it them. At least, she was finally happy, that was all he wanted -- was for her to be happy. "Well, I thought we could go patrolling, love," Spike said.

"Oh, good.…I was planning on doing that soon anyway," Buffy remarked. "Why don't you come inside and let me grab some stakes?"

Spike took a few steps inside holding something behind his back as Buffy walked over to the living room and opened the chest. She pulled out a couple of stakes and stuffed them into her pockets before coming back up to Spike. "Okay, ready?"

"Uh...Buffy," Spike started.

"Yeah?"

Spike pulled out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back. "Uh, I got these for you for, y'know, Valentine’s Day." Spike stammered.

"Spike...thank you," Buffy said as she took the flowers out of his hands and smelled them. She breathed in the scent of lilies and lilacs mixed with baby's breath and carnations. "You...you didn't have to do this," she added. <Uh oh, here we go again...drifting past the "friendship” line.>

"Well, I figured that it'd be better than anything that I...that I did to you in the last couple of years," Spike said as he remembered the night where he chained her up, forcing her to listen to his words of love.

"Well...things were different then." Buffy commented. Two years ago, she didn’t know of his feelings for her, and she hadn't figured out her feelings for him. Then, last year, she had simply abused his feelings for her just so she could have some simple "feelings." Yes, things were definitely different now. "Thank you," Buffy said, smiling. Before she could chicken out, she moved forward and kissed Spike's cheek.<Damn, definitely crossed that line,> Buffy thought.

"Wow, uh, you're welcome, love," Spike said, amazed at the affection she had shown him. He hadn't been expecting that. Spike was surprised that she even dared to kiss him again after what that had led to last time. But things were different… that much Spike knew. Since Buffy was finally happy about being back on earth, maybe things wouldn't turn out badly.

She smiled, upon seeing the love in his eyes that he was trying to hide from her. "Let me go put these in some water." She walked into the kitchen with the flowers in her hands and came back out a second later. "Okay, are we ready now?" Buffy asked.

"I was born ready," Spike proudly stated.

Buffy rolled her eyes; yet, she wasn't annoyed. Secretly, she hadn't been annoyed by Spike in a long time -- at least several months, which had to be the longest time ever. "C'mon, Big Bad, let's go patrol," Buffy said. Together, the two of them walked out into the night.

~~~

"Well, I'm sorry I bugged you so much about coming to patrol with me," Spike said. It was about two hours later, and there had been absolutely nothing in the graveyards. Apparently, even demons celebrated Valentine’s Day. Maybe they were all dancing with their honeys at the Bronze.

Buffy and Spike headed back to her home, signaling that the night was over. "Well, it's okay," Buffy said as she stepped onto her porch. "It's not like I had anything else really planned to do tonight." In secret, Buffy had planned to lie around on the couch with a tub of ice cream in her lap and sob over the Valentine’s Day movie-fest. Buffy unlocked her door and turned back around to face Spike. "Thanks again for the flowers, Spike. I love them."

"You're welcome," Spike said, starting to walk off the porch.

"Oh, but wait," Buffy said as she stopped Spike. "I didn't get anything for you."

"That's okay, love," Spike said, speaking truthfully. She’d kissed him on the cheek and said thank you for the flowers two or three times. It wasn't much, but for Spike at least, it was a start. It was a crumb, and that was all he wanted. And hopefully this time, it would be a start in the right direction.

"Oh well, I guess this will have to do," Buffy murmured. And with that, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. She pressed her warm body into his cooler one, dragging her hands down his arms before latching onto the sides of his leather jacket. Spike mimicked her motions as the two kissed in the dark. They hadn't kissed in over a year -- almost two; yet, neither had forgotten how to act and react.

Buffy slowly pulled back and looked at him. "Wow, uh...," Spike stuttered.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Spike," Buffy said under her breath, turning and walking into the house.

"Best present ever, love," Spike whispered into the air around him.

~~~

As Buffy made her way to the graveyard where Spike's crypt was, she hummed a song in her head. It had been almost a month since Valentine’s Day and that night when she kissed him. And it was all because of that gentle, chaste kiss, that Buffy knew that once again they had crossed that inevitable line.

From there, their relationship progressed into a light and innocent coupling. Never had Buffy and Spike been in a more chaste relationship, but since neither of the two wanted to ruin their chance, both agreed to take things slow. However, tonight she planned to tell him that her extreme like/hate for the bleached-blonde vampire had turned into a deep love and longing. She had it all planned out, and hopefully, her babbling wouldn't ruin the moment.

She neared his crypt and immediately saw Spike leaning against a headstone waiting for her. "'Ello, love," Spike greeted her.

"Hey, Spike." She walked up right into his arms and kissed him quickly on the lips.

"So, what's the plan, love?" Spike asked.

"I figured a quick patrol. Maybe we can head back to my house and spend some time together...Dawn won't be there, and we'll have the house to ourselves." Buffy said, hoping she could get her point across.

"That sounds mighty fine to me," Spike agreed.

"Good," Buffy said, still holding onto Spike's hand. The two started walking out thorough the graveyard, keeping their eyes open for anything.

Almost an hour passed, and there was no sign of anything in the graveyard that Buffy and Spike were patrolling in. "There's nothing here, love," Spike announced. "Do you want to head on home?"

"Let's go check Restfield Cemetery quickly," Buffy suggested. Although she just wanted to go home with Spike, she wanted to make sure that there weren't any vampires that were planning a surprise attack.

"Sure thing, love," Spike said, falling into step with the Slayer as they crossed the street.

They walked down several blocks of the town. When they neared the cemetery, Buffy and Spike saw some vampires that were walking around in the cemetery. There must have been a nest near by because there were about ten of them.

"Looks like we're going to wind up getting some action tonight after all," Spike commented, pulling out a stake.

"Damn," Buffy agreed, starting to pick up her pace. "And here I was, thinking we were home free for the night."

Buffy ran into the fight, jumping up into the air and leaping over one of the headstones. She swiftly moved up to a vampire and punched him in the face before swinging around and kicking him in his side. Before she could retaliate with another punch, four other vampires slammed into her body and knocked her onto the ground.

Spike followed Buffy's entrance, picking a fight with the remaining vampires to keep Buffy from getting too overloaded. As Spike was working on the other five vampires, the number quickly fell to four. Spike swung around and grabbed one of the vampires by the shirt.

"Man, you're crazy! Killing your own kind," the vampire yelled into Spike's face.

"Yeah, yeah. Sing me a new one," Spike said, driving the stake home. "Well, that isn't so bad, is it kiddies?" Spike asked the remaining vampires. Then, he noticed that Buffy wasn't fighting right beside him. "Buffy?" He quickly glanced around the cemetery, giving the four vampires a chance to retaliate.

One vampire with a scar across its cheek and another vampire with long brown hair grabbed onto Spike's arms, holding him tightly. Spike fought to free himself, but couldn't move his arms. "Hey! Let me go!" He shouted, moving his body around to free himself.

"Spike!" Buffy cried out from the other side of the cemetery, ducking from a thrown punch.

While Spike was fighting the other vampires, Buffy had quicl;y staked three, but the other two were amazingly strong. The two remaining vampires that were attacking Buffy had somehow gotten the upper hand of the battle. They'd forced her to run to the other side of the cemetery and placed her in a tightly- enclosed area.

"SPIKE!" She shrieked again as a vampire tossed her to the ground.

"Buffy?" Spike asked, still unable to move.

A second later, two vampires carried the slayer, who was violently kicking her legs in the air to get free, from behind a crypt. They let go of her and shoved her against the wall of the crypt. Buffy slowly regained her senses and reached in her back pocket to pull out a stake. She raised it in the air, aiming for the vampire that stood in front of her. Suddenly, the vampire that was beside her grabbed onto her arm as she raised it, quickly spinning her around into his arms. Controlling her own stake with his hand, the vampire plunged the stake into Buffy's chest. Buffy's eyes went wide with shock and pain. "Oh....oh God," she moaned, looking down at her chest.

"NO!" Spike screamed. His body went wild, thrashing around and trying to free himself. "Buffy!" He struggled for a second more, finally becoming free before he ran over to Buffy and the two vampires. He threw himself at one with his stake held out in front of him and quickly dusted the vampire that was holding the stake.

The remaining vampire released his grip on Buffy as he stared at Spike. "You're pathetic, protecting the Slayer," he said. And with that, he ran disappeared into the shadows of the graveyard.

Spike dropped the stake he was holding and ran over to Buffy's side. He bent down on his knees and cradled her head. "Oh God," he muttered, running his other hand down across her chest. The vampire had staked her heart….God, he had killed her.

"Spike...I- I slipped up," Buffy stammered.

"It's okay, love. It's okay," Spike said, trying not to look too worried. His hand brushed over her chest and was covered in blood when he pulled away.

"Spike...don't let- let them bring me...back," she said. "Please."

"Okay, Buffy," Spike said softly. He gazed down at her and smiled while he lightly trailed his fingers over her forehead.

"Ma-maybe stakes aren't the...the best way to kill..." Buffy gasped. "They always seem...always backfire on me."

Spike felt the corners of his mouth smile lift slightly. "It'll all be okay," he said, trying to soothe her. Tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to cry in front of her.

"Spike...I- I love..."

Spike watched as the fire and light died out of her eyes and as her body spasmed before going limp. Spike fell back, moving away from her and not believing that he had witnessed her death two times… Each time had been his fault. If only he'd been quicker, faster...more helpful than he had been, she'd still be alive.

"No...no...," Spike chanted. "BUFFY!"

He had lost her. When everything had been going *so* perfectly, he'd lost her, his sunshine in his dark world. And when that fire burned out of her eyes, he also knew that it had disappeared from his. She was lost to him, and she'd never be found again.

~~~

Spike closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. One dream and every memory that he'd ever shared with Buffy was suddenly rushing back to him in full force. <So, Buffy wants me to find the slayer,> he thought to himself. <Guess, I don't have a choice.>

He climbed out of bed and grabbed a bag, throwing a couple of shirts and other materials into the sack. One hundred years had changed everything around him, but Spike's style was still the same...the same black, leather jacket and an unusually dark dress style. Cars were rare these days, but Spike still used one. The vehicle wasn't the DeSoto, but it would do for his needs.

Once packed and ready to go, he walked out into the night and headed towards his car. Once inside, he turned on the gas and started driving towards Sunnydale, California, the home of the current Slayer.

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TBC...

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Spike thought to himself.

He was standing outside the Bronze, now called the Golden Stake, trying to work up enough courage to enter. People swept past him, shoving him back and forth as they moved inside or outside the club. It had been almost one hundred years since he'd been in this town and stood this close to all of those memories that he'd kept locked up in the depths of his mind.

Spike closed his eyes, taking a deep, yet unnecessary breath. Already, he could envision Buffy and himself sitting in the Bronze, arguing about everything. He could picture Dawn perched on a stool, her head bobbing to the beat of the music. Anya and Xander would be out on the dance floor while Tara and Willow talked back and forth about things that only they understood, their conversation filled with giggles and smiles. Yes, those were the good times and the days when Buffy's gang accepted him.

"Bloody hell," he cursed. "Here goes nothing."

He took a step inside the club and was almost blown away by the feeling that he got. Yes, the slayer was inside the club somewhere. He was almost forced to take several steps away from the doorway… from the strong presence that he sensed somewhere inside the club.

As Spike made his way past people and toward the dance floor, he was instantly reminded of that night in the Bronze when he saw a young blonde dancing on the floor with her friends, Xander and Willow. That was the first night that he'd ever seen Buffy, and he was bent on killing her.

It was only when he reached the dance floor that he realized that he wasn't imagining the scene where he had first seen Buffy Summers. "Bloody hell," he cursed underneath his breath. In the middle of the dance floor stood the Slayer. She was dancing in the center of a small circle, laughing and joking with her friends.

She was...

"Buffy," Spike gasped. If his heart had actually been beating, it would have stopped the moment he saw her.

The current slayer looked just like Buffy Summers.

"No," Spike said to himself as he started to turn around. "I can't do this. I can't talk to a person who looks just like Buffy, I can't." He started making his way out of the club. Once outside and in the alley where the Bronze was located, he hurried to his car. "I knew that this was a stupid idea," he mumbled. "I should have never come back to this bloody town."

"Hey you!"

Spike froze, his eyes widening. That voice. <God, it's Buffy,> That tone of annoyance was a tone that only she possessed. Spike slowly turned around to look at her, knowing that he had no choice. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, when he saw her.

"Haven't I given you guys enough warning?" she asked. "Time and time again, I tell you not to come to the club! That's my territory." She took a step towards him, beginning to raise the stake in her hand. "You vamps never learn, do you?"

Behind the Buffy-look-alike stood two other people, a redheaded girl and a tall, brown-haired boy. "Need any help, Anne?" the boy questioned.

"No thanks, Alex, this shouldn't take long," Anne replied. She looked Spike over and took notice of his black leather duster and dark outfit before saying, "God, do you scream 1990s or what?" She'd never seen this vampire before; most these days were fledglings that wouldn't make it past their 100th birthday, but this vampire seemed older. Maybe it was a feeling inside of her, but she knew that this vampire had history.

<Bloody hell, this is the damn Scooby gang,> Spike thought. "There's been a misunderstanding, love," Spike said confidently, finally finding his voice.

Anne's face flashed with an expression of confusion. That voice...it was British; she could recognize its similarity to her Watcher's. But she'd heard that voice somewhere else before; she was sure of that. "Right, because I'm sure that you vampires always get turned around and *that's* why you show up here uninvited."

"I'm here to help you!"

"You're a vampire!" she shot back at him. "Let me clear this up for you. We're mortal enemies. We don't get time-outs to help each other."

Spike opened his mouth, the words not coming out. <Not like I haven't ever heard that before,> Spike thought, recalling the night when he'd formed an alliance with Buffy in order to bring Angelus down. "Look, love," Spike started again. "I...I was sent-"

"By who? The Powers That Be? Sorry, but you're no Angel."

"Angel?" Spike questioned. "That poofer is still alive?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Anne asked, now confused by what Spike was saying. However, her assumptions were true; this vamp definitely had some age on him.

"Angel, the vampire with a soul..." Spike started.

"No, that was before my time," Anne replied quickly. She tried to direct the conversation back towards business. "Who are you?"

"The name is Spike."

"Wait....Spike? As in...*the* Spike?" she asked.

"The one and only, love." Spike replied, trying to keep a deadpan expression on his face. The whole scene was like being transported one hundred years back in time, and he was having a conversation with Buffy all over again. "And you are...?"

"Anne Winters," she said matter-of-factly.

Spike closed his eyes, cursing the Powers for a second. "Well, aside from the whole threat thing, it's a pleasure to meet you."

She smiled at Spike before she turned toward her friends. "It's okay guys; he's on our side...somewhat." Anne glanced back, informing him," My watcher has talked about you. He says that you killed two slayers and then fell, head over heels, in love with one." Spike lowered his face, his eyes filling with shame. "God, it's true, isn't it? I...I didn't believe it because I didn't think that vampires could love. I just thought that it was some myth about you, that's just-"

"Are you just going to stand here and babble all night long, love?" Spike asked, unable to take hearing her babbles much longer. <Something else that Buffy often did,> Spike thought.

"Oh, sorry, I have a tendency to do that," Anne explained. "Anyway, this is Wilona, and this is Alex."

"Nice, you've got yourself a Scooby gang, too."

"Too? What's a Scooby gang?"

"Listen, I'm in town for a while. I'd like to talk with your watcher and then maybe help you train," Spike explained.

"Train? For what?"

"The fight of your life, love."

~~~

"So...what do we know?" A deep voice called out. "Has it started?"

"We think so, sir," a tall man replied. "We should be getting a-"

"We've got a source now," another replied. A man dressed in a business outfit walked through a short hallway and into the main room. A group of elderly men was sitting around a table, the obvious leader positioned at the end of the table.

"And what did this source say, Eric?" the man who was sitting at the end of the table asked. The man talking was the great-grandson of the infamous Quentin Travers. From his grandfather to his father, and now to him, Quincey had been brought up through the strict training of the Watchers Council. Now he was the leader, and he too knew what would happen if this prophecy came true.

"They say that it's started. Mr. Travers, the prophecy has started," Eric explained, looking at Quincey.

"Damn," Quincey Travers said. He scratched his forehead and sighed. "That means that everything has been set in motion. Dammit!"

"So what do we do, Mr. Travers?" one of the men present at the tables asked.

"What else *can* we do?" Quincey asked, his voice resigned. "We stop it."

~~~

Wilona and Alex had gone home before Anne took Spike to her watcher's house. Anne knew that her watcher would love to talk with Spike. Andrew Kenyon, her watcher, would probably ask him a million questions before he let Spike leave his apartment.

As they made their way over to her watcher's home, Anne tried to talk with Spike. "So...," she began, "who was the slayer that you...well, y'know?"

"You mean that you don't know?" Spike asked, surprise evident in his tone. "I figured that everyone would have told you all that stuff."

"No, I'm pretty much in the dark about things like that," Anne said. "I don't really mind. I just...fight the evil that he tells me to."

"He?"

"Andrew, my watcher," she replied. "He's easy to get along with, but sometimes he just refuses to answer my questions. I tried talking to him about Buffy Summers once, but he refused to tell me anything about her."

Spike's suspicions were correct then. He could tell that this slayer knew nothing about Buffy. However, Anne's watcher must have had reasons as to why he never spoke of her. "Yeah...well, that slayer was...unique," he managed to say.

"Did you know her?" Anne asked him. She looked over at him and noticed that his eyes were lowered to the ground; he didn't answer her question. "Oh look, we're here," she said a few steps later. She slid her key-card through the slot and walked through the main gate. "Oh boy, Andrew is going to love this," she muttered.

"You on a first name basis with your watcher?" Spike wondered.

"Of course...aren't they all?" Anne questioned, confusion in her expression and tone of voice.

"Not all of them," Spike murmured underneath his breath. He closed his eyes and for one, brief instant could almost hear Buffy yelling her watcher's name at the top of her lungs.

The front door opened, and a tall, brown-haired man stepped out through the doorway. He looked as though he was in his late twenties or early thirties; nonetheless, he wore a pair of glasses on his nose and dressed in a simple, but formal outfit. <Well, watchers haven't changed that much in one hundred years,> Spike thought to himself.

"Anne!" he greeted happily. "Nice of you to drop by before midnight for a change."

"Thanks, Andrew," she replied. "Andrew Kenyon, I want you to meet Spike."

"Ahh, went out and got yourself a boyfriend?"

Anne blushed and tried to hide her smile. "No! This is Spike...*the* Spike! You know...the whole, killer of two slayers and so on. C'mon, I know we talked about this; I was actually listening that day."

"Oh...Oh!" Andrew said, taking off his glasses and looking at the bleached-blonde vampire that stood a few inches behind Anne. "How...well, it's an honor to meet you."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is," Spike said sarcastically.

"It's not too often that you see a vampire who has lived over two hundred, much less three," Andrew said. "Uh...won't you please come in?"

Spike stared and looked at him in shock. "You're just going to invite me in?"

"Well...I know all about you Spike, I figure that I can trust you," Andrew replied, stepping aside and allowing Spike to pass. "So, what brings you back to Sunnydale?" he asked as he and Spike walked into the living room.

"Back?" Anne questioned. She stood in the doorway, but she took a step closer when Andrew began talking to Spike.

The two men chose to ignore Anne's question. "Look, mate...I was...well, I guess you could say that I was sent."

"Sent? By who?" Andrew asked, sitting down to look at the vampire. Andrew knew all about Spike from reading Rupert Giles' journals about Buffy Summers. Hell, every watcher after Buffy had mentioned something about her, wishing that their slayer could live up to what Buffy had done. Yes, he knew all about all the rumors that Anne was the reincarnation of Buffy; he just didn't want to believe them. Now with Spike, Buffy's vampire lover here, Andrew might have to change his mind.

Spike looked up at Anne, not wanting to speak about Buffy in front of her.

"Oh, I guess that this is...manly business talk," Anne said, realizing that she was not wanted for this meeting. "I'll, uh, just go upstairs and change out of my party clothes." She turned around and closed the door behind her, leaving Spike and Andrew to themselves.

"I...I was sent by...Buffy," Spike revealed, lowering his voice in case Anne decided to listen in on the other side of the door.

"Buffy? But she's...well, she's-"

"Yeah, she's...dead, I know that," Spike said. "But, this felt so real. She said that I had to go see the slayer, Anne. I...I didn't know that she would look ju-just like her. She sounds...she sounds just like her, too."

"Yes, the Watcher's Council is aware of this," Andrew spoke. "Although I'm not too fond of the Council, I finally talked them into looking into reasons why Anne is...well, she's Buffy. Maybe it was just your subconscious telling you that-"

"Look, I know a message when I see one. This was from Buffy. She said that something big was coming up and that I needed to see the current slayer," Spike stated. "I didn't want to come here to this town; you think I did? There are just too many memories here, and..." his voice died off. "I take it that she doesn't know anything about this? She even said that she was in the dark about the whole Buffy situation."

"No...no, I don't tell her about Buffy's past. She doesn't even know that you were...with Buffy. I know what happened between you. I studied some on it while I was in training, but-"

"There's no way that you could know what happened between us, Watcher," Spike said gruffly, coldness in his eyes.

"Fine, fine. Look, all I'm saying is that...she can't know. Something bad could happen if she were to find out everything, okay?" Andrew asked him. "I don't know what her reaction would be to all of this."

Spike nodded, agreeing to not speak with Anne about Buffy. "Look, I don't know what's coming, if *anything*, but if something does come, it won't be good. Being on the hellmouth is never good."

"And what do you propose that we do about that?" Andrew asked

"Well, I can help her train. Not that you aren't great with training a powerful slayer or anything, mate, but I think that I'm better qualified for the job," Spike said. "And you...you and the Scooby gang can research any upcoming prophecies or what all."

"Scooby gang? What's a Scooby gang?"

"You know...Red and the whelp. They can help you," Spike informed him.

"Whelp?" Andrew asked, confusion in his tone. "Ahh...Alex," Andrew said, shaking his head in the air but his face still showing confusion. "Anyway, it's late...well, for me it is, and I should be off to bed." He rose from the couch and started to step away from the seat.

"Right...uh, does Anne need to get home or anything?" Spike asked.

"No, she lives two floors up," Andrew explained. "She's in her own little apartment. Her mother died a year ago, and she's been by herself ever since then. It's just remarkable how well she can handle herself."

"What'd her mother die of?" Spike queried.

"Cancer. It really was a sad situation, but she seems to have recovered quite nicely," Andrew replied.

"Well then, tell the little chit good night for me, uh?" Spike said, moving towards the door. "I can get back over here after sunset tomorrow…maybe find a place to start training with her."

"Oh, we have a gym downstairs, a good place for her sparring."

"Good, then," Spike acknowledged. "G'night, mate." He opened the front door and walked out, closing it behind him. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, feeling a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. <That was bloody tough,> he mused. <I'm living in deja vu world.> He liked the watcher. For some reason, Andrew reminded Spike of Giles. Maybe it was just his stiff, English ways, but he was inwardly glad that Anne had such a relaxed and modern watcher.

Anne.

Bloody hell, she was Buffy. There was no mistaking that the girl three floors up in the house behind him was Buffy Summers; Spike knew that to be fact. <Bloody hell, what have I gotten myself into?> he asked himself.

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

TBC...

Once again, thank you for all the feedback and reviews left at ff.net. I'm glad that you are enjoying the ride, and continue to enjoy it as I keep posting. Thanks!

Regaining Memories -- Part 3

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True to his word, Spike showed up the next night to help Anne train. He waited outside of Anne's apartment on the fourth floor while Anne changed into some decent workout clothes. When Anne walked through the doorway, Spike fought to keep his mouth from falling open.

There she was, the perfect embodiment of Buffy Summers. Dressed in a white tank top, gray sweat pants, and her hair pulled back in a slightly messy ponytail, Anne went through the doorway and smiled as she approached Spike.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Uh...hi," Spike replied.

"Andrew isn't here, but he said that we could work out in the gym. No one else is supposed to be there tonight, so we can have some privacy," Anne explained, starting out of the apartment. Spike followed her closely since he didn't know where the gym was. "So, did you help your slayer train, also?"

"Not really, love," Spike stated. "I, uh, had this stupid thing in my head that prevented me from hitting humans."

"Oh, is that why you helped her, then?"

Spike didn't know what to say without giving out too much information. "I don't think you really have to worry about that, pet. The chip doesn't work anymore, but I still help out. Trust me, it wasn't the chip," he said gruffly. <It was love, my love for Buffy.>

"Oh, touchy subject I guess," Anne replied, not wanting to bother him with too many questions. She led Spike down another hallway towards a closed door. "Okay, we're here." she said as she opened the door and crossed the threshold.

Spike shrugged off his black leather jacket and stood in front of her. "Okay, ready, love?" he asked.

"Pfft, of course I'm ready," Anne commented. "I'm ready to kick your ass." With that, the two started fighting.

~~~

"So...dish, girlfriend!" Wilona squealed when Anne showed up at the Golden Stake a few nights after Spike and Anne had started to spar. "What's he like? Details!"

"Wil, he's just helping me train," Anne maintained, sitting down at a table with Alex and Wilona. "We've been going at it for like six days, and I think I'm actually improving. He sorta showed me just how bad Andrew was teaching me."

"Well, that's good right?" Wilona asked. "Not to mention that you get to spend time with this totally hot guy."

"Will! He's a vampire!" Anne emphasized.

"Like that ever stopped her before," Alex commented wryly. "C'mon, Anne, let's dish about your new guy," he insisted, imitating a perky, happy blonde.

Anne broke into a grin and laughed. "Anyway, there was only that one slayer that he was with several decades ago from what I've picked up on, and I doubt that he'd ever try to hook up with one again."

"Ah hah! So you *have* thought about it," Wilona said enthusiastically.

"Well, he's not as great as you think, Wilona...trust me."

"Why not?"

"He's *so* annoying! Spike thinks he knows everything. He'll talk to me and act completely normal, but then, when I try to ask questions about the slayer that he fell in love with, he refuses to answer me," Anne explained.

"Well, maybe that's just a topic that he can't talk about," Wilona said. "It must be tough for him to-"

"And then when we're fighting! He is always criticizing my technique. 'Oh, love, your right side is clear open for all the little nasties,' or something like that," Anne said in a horrible English accent. "It drives me insane. And he's just so...vibey. I get these crazy vibes from him."

"Well..." started Wilona, unsure of what to say after her friend's ramble.

"And can we say 'control freak' here? He thinks that he is just...*so* overqualified to help me out with the training. He thinks that this is just a job; I'm surprised that he doesn't ask to get paid to help me spar," Anne said, her face getting hot with anger. "He's just so serious *all* of the time."

"Well...maybe he does that unintentionally," Wilona suggested, always wanting to keep the conversations calm and non-judgmental.

"Look, I'm going to get some coke or something. You guys want anything to drink?" Anne asked, rushing to her feet. Both of her friends shook their heads "no" before Anne told them, "I'll be back."

"Well?" Wilona asked Alex once Buffy was gone.

"Good God, I've never heard Anne talk that much about one guy since I've known her," he observed. "Think she likes him?"

"Oh yeah, there's definite like-age," Willow said. "Too bad that he's a vampire."

~~~

"No, love...you're dodging too soon," Spike told Anne as he took a step back from her. "You're leaving your left side wide open for nasties."

Anne took a deep breath, trying to not reveal her anger in a single outburst. "Look, I haven't exactly had this kind of training with Andrew, okay?"

"Well, I don't see how you've lasted as long as you have," Spike asserted. He swung his arm out, and Anne easily dodged it, tumbling into a somersault and landing behind him. She lashed out and kicked him to the floor, sending him sliding on the mat.

"I can handle myself just fine," she retorted, rising to her feet and standing in a fighting stance.

Spike copied her motions and ran back up to her, picking her small body up off the floor and flipping her over his back. "Yeah, I can see that," he replied sarcastically. "You're doing just fine."

She looked up at him with a glare in her eyes. "Oh shut up," she said, before standing up once again. "Break time."

"What? Tired already?" he asked, following her.

Anne walked over to the edge of the room and grabbed a bottle of water. "Tired? Puh-leese. It just looked like you needed a break." <Why do I argue with him so easily? What provokes me to have this constant banter with him?> she thought to herself. She'd never argued with Andrew or her friends this much.

Spike did a double take. It was as though he was transported one hundred years into the past, in the Magic Box, where he and Buffy would train together. <Damnit, it's like I'm talking to *her*,> he thought to himself. He glanced over the blonde woman as she drank her water and wiped her forehead. "Y'know something? You're a skinny little chit," he commented, walking up to her. Buffy had always been skinny; something that Spike constantly teased her about.

Anne whirled around and stared at him, "I am *not*...what's a chit?"

Spike smirked. "I mean, do you eat anything? You're just all bones."

"I'm not skinny, I'm fit," Anne replied defensively.

Spike moved closer to her, saying, "I bet that I could touch my fingertips from either side of your waist." <What? What the bloody hell am I saying?> He approached Anne and laid his hands on her bare waist.

Anne fought the urge to jump back. Not because he was a vampire, even though that should have been her first concern, but because he was so cold. She was burning up, and the feeling of Spike's cold hands on her hot skin was comforting. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her frantically beating heart. "See?" She managed to say. "No -- not skinny."

"Hmm, I guess not," Spike said, gazing down at her. He took a breath, although unnecessary, and looked down at his hands. "Anne..."

"Yes?" she asked, peering up at him.

Suddenly, Spike stepped back, pushing her body away from him. He dropped his hands to his side and lowered his face to the floor as he kept backing up from her. "So -- sorry love," he muttered. <What the hell was that, mate?> he asked himself. <She's not Buffy! You can't go around thinking that she's *your* slayer anymore.>

Anne froze, never expecting that to happen. <He...he doesn't want me,> she thought to herself. <Well...good! He's a vampire, Anne! Get that through your thick skull!> She stood there a second, trying to compose her emotions. Anne took a sip of water and wiped her sweaty forehead, trying to play their moment as if she'd already forgotten it. "Anyway, up for a second go?"

"Always, love," Spike said, grinning at her, his usual attitude having resumed.

A light layer of perspiration had covered her body from the intense workout with Spike. Anne took a towel and wiped her face, neck, and arms, and she quickly tossed the towel out of her way. Her blood was pounding in her ears from the activity. "Okay, Big Bad, give me everything that you've got."

~~~

TBC...

Part 4:

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<That's weird, I don't usually get too many visitors that actually knock,> Spike thought to himself as he walked up to the front door of his small apartment. He opened the door and greeted the visitor. "Hello Anne," he said.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"I, uh...I figured that we could have a small chat," Anne suggested.

"Okay...*how'd* you get here?" Spike asked. He had never given Anne or Andrew his address.

"Oh, I just beat up some demons to get your address," she said proudly.

"Oh, great."

"Anyway, I know that Andrew wants all of us at his place tomorrow evening for a meeting, but..." <Okay, how do I tell this to him?> she thought. "Do you want to step outside with me?"

"Sure," Spike said, walking through the doorway and closing the door behind him.

"Anyway, I had this whole speech planned out. I was going to amaze you with my rationality and my use of really big words. I was going to sound really professional because I didn't want to take a chance of babbling off topic for a really long time, and-"

"Uh, a little too late for that," Spike said, smiling over at her.

"Right...okay, here goes." she took a deep breath before continuing. "Why do you hate me?" <Well, so much for the big words usage,> she told herself.

"Hate you? I don't hate you," Spike said with surprise in his voice. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well you work me to no end for one thing," Anne started. "You know almost everything there is to know about me, and yet I know nothing about you. I try to talk to you, but you shut me out whenever I try to get a conversation started. I mean, you aren't Angel, but at least, he would *talk* about Faith and his girlfriend, Cordelia."

"Wait, I thought you said that he-"

"Yeah, I lied to you about that," Anne said. "I didn't want to reveal that he and I knew each other at the time."

"Romantic with each other?" Spike asked, dreading the possible answer.

"Well, not really. He still had those feelings for Cordelia that he didn't want to ruin. I think that he was with her up to the end...well, her end anyway. We kissed a few times but that was as far as it got before he died," she said regrettably. "I don't understand it, but there seemed to be something that was just pulling me towards him." <Just like I'm pulled towards you,> Anne thought.

<So, the poufter took a go at trying to get Buffy to love him again,> Spike reflected. "Well, that nancy boy has some history of his own, too. After all, he was older than me by at least one hundred years or so," he said, trying not to disrespect the memories Anne had of Angel...even though it was really tempting.

"I mean, I must totally disgust all men, including vampires!" she said angrily. "First, Angel, and now you!" <Whoops, didn't mean to just blurt that out,> Anne thought guiltily. <Tact, Anne! Learn it!>

"Me?" Spike said, even more surprised. He wasn't really expecting that.

"I remember that night in the gym. You just...Spike, you just shoved me away as if I was diseased or something," Anne said, hurt evident in her tone. "You looked as though you were going to...and then you just backed away."

Spike thought. "My past is somewhat...troubled."

"Is that why you won't kiss me?" Anne asked.

"Kiss you? Love, what happened to the whole 'kill the vampire; don't have feelings for him' motto?" Spike asked.

"Oh, you mean that was taken seriously when your slayer...ohh," Anne said, now understanding. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? It's all about your slayer, whoever she was."

"It's a little bit more than that," he noted. <You look just like her; you sound just like her; you smile just like her,> he wanted to tell her. He wanted to be truthful with Anne, but without knowing what would happen, Spike didn't want to speak.

"Then, what? Why aren't you making a move?" Anne asked, throwing her hands up in the air. "I *want* you to, okay?"

"Anne..." Spike started.

"Spike, I just...I just need a sign from you that you'll-"

His arms reached out and pulled Anne into his embrace, pushing her face to meet his. Spike lowered her head and captured Anne's lips in the sweetest kiss she'd ever had in her life. Anne forced herself to not smile as she heard Spike growl somewhere in the back of his throat.

<Buffy...,> Spike thought, imagining the two of them back in his crypt kissing on the floor, unable to wait to actually reach the bed. <But she's not Buffy, is she? She's never going to be Buffy, no matter how badly you want her to be, mate,> he tried to convince himself. "So, how was that for a sign?" Spike asked, pulling back and staring at her.

Anne took a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. "It's a start," she replied. "I, uh, have to go patrol and then check back in with Andrew."

"Okay, Anne," Spike said, his accent thick and his voice gruff with desire.

"I'll stop by tomorrow, and we can head over to Andrew's place, okay?" Spike nodded in response. "Well, good night, Spike."

"Actually, it's 'good morning' for me," Spike said teasingly.

"Well then, good morning," Anne said, smiling coyly. Before he could protest, she pressed a warm kiss on his lips and turned to skip down the front steps.

<What have I gotten myself into?> Spike asked himself.

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

"Spike?" Anne called out, banging on his front door. "Spike, it's Anne!" Dusk hadn’t quite arrived yet, but Anne decided to come over early, hoping that she'd get a chance to spend some alone time with Spike.

She knocked on the door one last time, hoping to get him to answer the door. <Fine, I'll just use to old 'break and enter' method,> she mused, clasping the doorknob in her hand. She twisted the knob and broke through the lock, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

<Hmm, lives nice for a vampire,> Anne thought, making her way through the living room. Anne passed a kitchen, bathroom, and closet before reaching the two final rooms, what she assumed were the bedrooms. Anne opened the door to her left and smiled when she saw Spike lying in a full-sized bed. He was wrapped in black satin sheets that had been pushed down to his lower waist, exposing his fit and muscular abs.

<Anne, no drooling now,> she scolded herself. Anne’s smile widened when she realized how human he looked…so much more than Angel did.

She silently closed the door behind her, deciding to let him sleep a few minutes longer. She walked back through the hallway and into the living room. <Well, while I'm waiting...>

Anne walked over to Spike's closet and opened the double doors. The closet was empty with the exception of a leather bag on the very top shelf. Anne pushed the bag aside to reveal a dusty, beaten up shoebox. <Could be interesting,> she told herself. Anne stood on her tiptoes and pulled the box down.

She pulled off the cover and started looking at the first layer of the box.

"They're photos...of me," she whispered to herself. Anne started taking the photos out one right after the other, noticing that they were all of her. She chuckled to herself, thinking,

Anne looked closer at the image of herself, frowning when she saw the disgusting shade of violet that she was wearing. <Wait...I don't own anything violet. I don't own anything that even closely resembles that.> Slowly, she turned the photo over and read what Spike had written.

Buffy Anne Summers.

1981-2004

<What?! He was with *Buffy* *Summers*! *The* slayer!> She turned the photo back around and gazed at the image. <She's...she looks just like me!> Anne thought wildly, not understanding what was going on. <What was he...>

"You know, breaking and entering is against the law, or at least it used to be," Spike said from behind her.

"You!" Anne tried to speak as she stood up and spun around to face him.

Spike looked down at the floor where the open box lay, dozens of faded images scattered around the box, and then back up at Anne and the picture that she held in her trembling hand. "Anne..." he hesitated.

"You...you deceived me!"

"What? Love, I'd never do that to you!" Spike protested, taking a step towards her.

Anne backed away, her body shaking, and her face becoming red with anger. "I'm her! Spike, I look *exactly* like her!"

"Yeah, but-"

"Oh God," Anne said, a new thought coming to her mind. "You weren't kissing *me*; you were kissing *her* last night. You were touching *her* arm, helping *her* train, holding *her* hands."

"No, I wasn't!"

"Yes, you were. You weren't seeing me; you were seeing *Buffy* *Summers*, *your* slayer!" Anne shouted at him.

With the photo still in her hand, Anne started towards the front door. She threw open the door and ran out into the night, leaving a stunned Spike standing in the hallway.

~~~

"So you found out like *that*?" Wilona asked her in disbelief. When Anne had gotten back to her apartment, she'd called Wilona to come over for some serious comfort. She was so confused and didn't know what was happening. Even though Wilona would know less that she did, at least Wilona could offer her some moral support and her friendship.

"Yeah, great way to find out, huh? I mean, he wasn't just with a slayer, Wil, he was with *the* slayer, Buffy," Anne said despairingly. "She's a legend; she's what every slayer dreams of achieving and becoming. And *he* was with her!"

"You know, I must say that the resemblance is...well, uncanny," Wilona said, looking at the picture that lay on the table in between them.

"I know, I look just like her," Anne stated. "Major wiggins, let me tell you that."

"Wiggins?" Wilona asked her, staring at Anne as if she had just spoken in pig Latin.

"Hmm...well, I knew what that word meant a second ago," Anne said thoughtfully. "I think it's just a weird feeling. Anyway, that's definitely what I got when I looked at this photo today."

"So...wait, I'm confused," Wilona said.

"Yeah, join the club."

"Are *you* Buffy Summers?" Wilona asked, glancing over at her best friend.

Anne laughed at Wilona's remark. She paused. "Oh, you mean that you were serious?" Wilona gave her a look. "C'mon Wilona, I'm...Anne. You've known me since I moved here when I was sixteen. I wasn't just suddenly made up out of thin air!"

"I don't know, though. Couldn't it have been something like reincarnation?" Wilona speculated.

Anne scoffed, refusing to believe any other possibilities. "Anyway, he came into the living room and tried to act as if everything was normal. I told him that he was using me to imagine that he was with Buffy again and then ran out of the house." She studied the photo, resisting the urge to turn it over, so she wouldn't have to see at it. "He didn't really try to fight back; he just...stood there."

"I'm telling you, men can be such assholes, dead or alive," Wilona said. "Trust me."

Anne smiled, glad that she had Wilona for a best friend. "Thanks, Wil."

Wilona grinned. "What are best friends for?" Then, her expression grew more serious. "You know, there *are* ways to find out what's going on here."

"Really? Well, fill me in."

"Andrew's journals," Wilona informed Anne. "I mean, doesn't he have to keep journals on how you've been slaying and so on?"

"You mean the Watcher Diaries?" Anne asked. Wilona nodded. "I don't know...we aren't really allowed to read those."

"Well, isn't Andrew out right now?" Wilona asked, a gleam sparkling in her eye.

"Yeah, he's out looking for this book....something called the Codex or something like that," Anne commented. "Wait, are you suggesting we go down there and check out his diaries while he's out?" Wilona's expression said it all. "Wil! You evil girl."

She winked. "Yep, I'm a rebel," she said happily.

"And I love it," Anne said, standing up. "C'mon."

~~~

"You got anything?" Anne asked Wilona. The two found Andrew's journals hidden beneath some papers inside one of his desk drawers. Luckily, they had been relatively easy to find. Now the two were searching through his books, hoping to find out some information about Spike and his relationship with Buffy and what Anne had to do with any of it.

"Nada," Wilona replied, turning another page. "You know, maybe Andrew doesn't have anything about Spike and Buffy in here."

Anne stopped reading one of his books. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Buffy had a watcher, right? If Andrew mentions him, we could see if he's got some other journals around here," Wilona suggested.

"Wilona, I love you," Anne said admiringly. "You're a genius."

Wilona smiled. "Go on, please, go on." Wilona and Anne turned their attention back towards Andrew's journals, keeping an eye out for anything about Buffy's watcher.

I don't know too much about this Spike fellow, and I don't trust him, Anne read in the journal. This was dated back when Spike first showed up in Sunnydale. I mean, I've heard of Spike -- who hasn't? Every vampire fears him, every slayer that knows about him dreams of getting to fight along side him, and every watcher is amazed and stupefied by the acts of kindness that he carried out. The most amazing aspect of his altruistic behavior is that he did it all without a soul. Perhaps this is just what Anne needs, a good training partner, but something tells me it's more than that.

I know that he and Buffy had a past together, but I can't let Anne find out about this. But with the two of them working in such close proximity, I don't know how I can prevent this from happening. I am hoping, however, that Giles' journals will give me more definitive answers.

"Ah hah!" Anne said excitedly. "I found something."

"What?"

"I think that her watcher's name was Giles," Anne said, flipping through a few more pages of the journal. "He says that Giles' journals should have more answers, but that's all he mentions about that."

"Giles?" Wilona asked. "Oh! *That* Giles." She moved towards the cabinet and took out an older looking journal that had tape over the binding and the edges of the book coming apart. "I think this was his then." She took the book and opened it to one of the pages that had a post-it note sticking out of the top of the journal.

" 'I'm very worried. William the Bloody, Spike, has arrived in Sunnydale. Buffy first met him at the Bronze, and now he has terrorized the school,’" Wilona read. "What do you think the Bronze is? The Golden Stake?"

"Maybe," Anne replied, wanting to hear more from his journal.

"’He and Buffy fought, and thank god, she still lives. Spike has killed two slayers and is now looking for his third. Other than Angel's cryptic warnings about him, this is all we know of the vampire at this time,’" Wilona continued reading. "Wow, this was dated back in 1997. That's so long ago!"

Anne nodded, saying, "It was a little over one hundred years ago."

Wilona flipped through the pages, pausing for a second to peruse the pages that Andrew had marked for reference. "It's all in here, Anne," Wilona said. "A crash course in Spike 101."

"Do think Andrew would mind if I borrowed that?" Anne asked. "Or, let me rephrase that. Do you think that he'd notice?"

"Just take it; be brave," Wilona urged. She glanced down at her watch and groaned. "Man, it's getting late. I've got classes tomorrow; I'd better get home." She stood up and stretched.

Anne rose beside Wilona , holding the book tightly in her hands. "I think I'll go upstairs and read this, then," she said as the two walked to Andrew's doorway. After the two said goodnight to each other and went their separate ways, Anne headed up the stairs to her apartment.

"Okay," Anne said to herself. She was dressed in some warm pajamas and a long robe. With the book in her hands, Anne walked back to her bedroom and lay on the bed, opening the book to the next marked page. She skipped over most of the entries unless they mentioned something about Spike. Anne wanted to read Giles' entire journal, but she wanted to read the important things first.

Goddamn Ethan Rayne. By invoking Janus, the Roman god, a spell was cast over the children out trick-or-treating, including Buffy. There was a fight between Spike and her. Luckily, I broke the spell, and Buffy managed to fend for herself once again.

*****

Spike came back to Sunnydale tonight. After months of hoping that he would not return, Spike arrived, searching for a way to get Drusilla to fall in love with him again.

I do not know what happened. Since Buffy's return, she's barely spoken with me about anything that has to do with her slaying. However, I have been trying my best to keep the journal occasionally updated.

Anne read countless pages all talking about Spike. The dates progressed into 1999 and then 2000 when Giles started writing about Spike and the chip that the Initiative implanted into his brain. Anne stifled a laugh when she imagined him grabbing his head in pain after trying to hurt Buffy and then grimaced when she read about Willow's "I will it so" spell that went horribly wrong.

However, the more she read, the more confused she became. she thought. She continued reading, her thoughts becoming a jumbled mess.

Finally, when her eyes were cross-eyed from reading Giles' small and scratchy script, and her eyelids could barely stay open, Anne lay her head down on the pillow and drifted off to sleep.

~~~

TBC...