ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES

PART I - ONE NORMAL LIFE

CHAPTER ONE - GOODBYE TO YOU

May 20, 2003 - 8:00am

Spike had just thrown off, the latest attacking ubervamp, when all of a sudden he felt a tingling, heard a sizzling sound. Muttering, he began to realize just to what extent its power had in store for him.

"Oh bollocks!" Spike said, looking down suddenly at the amulet hanging on his chest.

"Buffy!" Spike cried, the first wave of pain hitting him, as the amulet's power tore his chest open, releasing an explosion of pure white energy, exploding like a thousand cannons, up through the floor of the principal’s office and forward into the walls of the Hellmouth.

"Spike!" Buffy screamed, running toward him.

Eyes wide, mouth moving, but making no sound, she stared at the vision that was Spike, rays of light pouring from his chest.

"Everybody out now!" Faith yelled, herding the girls under the rays emanating from his chest.

"I can feel it, Buffy," Spike said, wonder in his voice.

"What?" she asked, confused, shocked.

"My soul, it’s really here. Kinda stings," he quipped, through the pain.

"What?"

"Go on then!" he said to Buffy.

"No," she managed to get out, "you've done enough, you can still..."

He shook his head, his whole being concentrating on the energy, "No. You beat them back. It’s for me to do the cleanup.

"Come on!" Faith yelled to Buffy from the stairs.

"Gotta move lamb. Think it’s fair to say, school’s out for bloody summer.

"Spike," she said, her voice pleading.

"I mean it. Gotta do this," he said, putting his hand up to stop her.

Spike was staring straight ahead at something she couldn't fathom; his eyes fixed on a vision of their own.

The pain was greater than any other he’d ever felt. But it was more than pain. Mixed in, was a life-force that was joining with his very being.

Buffy looked up at his face, transfixed by it’s beauty, it’s light. Her eyes shone with tears seeing him so ennobled by this selflessness, even in the face of annihilation. And there was no mistaking; his choice meant certain death.

Her face wet with tears, Buffy entwined her fingers unto Spike’s outstretched ones, gently urging his to close on hers.

His brain seared within his head, his body on fire from the inside out, as her touch brought him back one last time.

As if awakening from his pain, his final purpose, he looked down at their hands and gripped hers tightly, in a last embrace. As he stared, they caught on fire.

She looked at their hands as she felt it. His soul. His soul joining with hers in this one last moment. Connected. Soul to soul. His beautiful, shining soul, awash in beauty.

Effulgent.

He looked at Buffy, in wonder and knew that she felt it, too.

"I love you," Buffy said, her small voice choked with emotion.

"I know. I love you, too. You know that. Always. Forever. But you have to go," Spike said, barely able to form words anymore.

"No! I’m staying," Buffy cried, "I won’t leave you!"

"Nibblet," he said, softly to her, "you have to live. For her. For me. For yourself, Buffy."

"Now go!" he commanded.

The cave was quickly imploding, as the floor shook under them. Knowing Spike was right; she quickly withdrew her hand from the flames, and taking one last look at him, quickly ducked under the light, and ran up the stairs.

All entries blocked by falling debris, she ran up onto the roof, just making it to the top of the bus, as the Hellmouth collapsed, taking along with it not only the school, but the whole town of Sunnydale.

"I wanna see how it ends," Spike said, voice full of irony at the task that had been bestowed on him.

May 27, 2003 - 3:30pm

Buffy lay on the bed in the back bedroom of the motor home that Giles had procured a few days after all of Sunnydale had been destroyed. After they and the world had been saved.

"Spike," she whispered, as she closed her eyes, the vision of when she’d last seen him, once again flashed behind her eyelids.

Turning her face into the pillow, she tried to muffle the sobs that were starting to come.

She hadn’t shed any tears for him in those first days. They were too busy trying to figure out how they were going to survive now, how and where they would live.

Giles and Xander had come up with the idea of a temporary home, one on wheels and it had been an acceptable choice, under the circumstances.

They had gone up north to Sequoia National Forest and that was where they were. For now. None had wanted to stay anywhere near Southern California at all.

Calls were made, to the girl’s families that were still with them, and they had dropped off about a dozen all over the state, before coming to rest here. The rest had been taken to airports, tickets sent by grateful parents. Grateful to have their slayer/daughters back with home with them. For now.

For those who went home, life would never quite be the same. The Chosen One’s calling was now all of theirs and they would be called again. But for now, being at home, in he bosom of their families would give them time to heal and to grow. They were still so young.

For those who had died, Amanda, Cho ‘an, and scores of others, their parents had been notified. All they had were words; there would be no bodies to bury.

Then there was the question of all those who had been called, but had nowhere to answer the call, no watcher to guide them, no idea what it meant, no idea that they weren’t alone in the world. They would have to be contacted. Somehow.

Now their home consisted of Buffy and Dawn, Willow, Xander, Giles, Kennedy, Andrew, Vi, and three other girls. One girl was an orphan, two other’s families didn’t have the resources to send for their daughters, and Vi, having just discovered some leadership abilities, decided she wanted to stay a while longer to learn from Buffy and the others.

Rona had been the first one they dropped off.

That left 11 of them. A far cry from the 30 or so that they’d started out with that morning, but still, quite crowded for a motor home. Luckily, they also got some tents, so all the girls and Andrew made their temporary sleeping arrangements under the tall trees and stars.

Still one bathroom!

Gratefully, the campground provided bathroom facilities.

Now that they were settled, more or less, shock had started to take hold over the past couple of days.

"Spike," Buffy said in her mind, over and over again as she shook convulsively with sobs.

"Buffy?"

She looked up at Dawn, who had come into their bedroom, "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

Buffy swallowed, trying to pull herself together for Dawn, she shook her head.

"Buffy," Dawn began, "I know how much he loved you…and that you loved Spike, too."

Buffy looked at Dawn gratefully. Spike had been a source of contention between them ever since Dawn had found out what he’d tried to do, before he went to Africa.

"I did," Buffy said, "I do. I always will. He was the only one who loved me for me, not what I was, not because I was the slayer, but in spite of the fact. And it cost him his life."

"But Buffy, he saved us all. He saved the world. He was…a hero," Dawn said. "I miss him, too, Buffy. I wish I’d not been so hard on him, wish I’d forgiven him, like you had," Dawn said, getting teary eyed herself.

"It’s okay, Dawnie. He knew you loved him. And he knew why you had to pull away from him. He always loved you, you know that." Buffy said, "it was for me to forgive him, to understand that he had truly changed into a man who…"

A man who could truly love her.

Buffy gave up the facade, putting her head back on the pillow, and sobbed until her throat ached and her chest hurt even to take a breath.

Dawn stayed with her a while, patting her on the back and murmuring soothing words to her.

Finally toward dinner, she fell asleep, exhausted.

A couple of hours later, Xander looked in on Buffy around 7pm, "Think we ought to wake her?" he asked Giles.

"No, just let her sleep. I haven’t seen her sleep this much since we left Sunnydale a week ago. Seems like she only sleeps about an hour at a time, so let’s just let he sleep as long as she wants. God knows, she’s earned it!" Giles answered.

Buffy awoke around 3:00am and lay in her bed trying to get her bearings. For a minute she thought she was still laying on the cot downstairs with Spike. She reached across her to find his arm, but her hand only hit the paneled wall of the small room. Then she heard Dawn’s breathing in the next bed over and remembered where she was.

Tears sprung to her eyes, as she sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. Silently she rose, and made her way through the motor home, until she got to the door. She quietly let herself out.

She walked a few dozen yards until she came to a picnic bench and sat down on the table, feet resting on the bench.

"I love you, Spike," she whispered, looking up to the stars, "I only hope you realized how much, that I never stopped."

She lay back on the picnic table, her mind taking her back over the last few months.

They'd grown apart after they'd come back. The crush of responsibility had been too much for the relationship to bear, even after the weekend in Julian.

Spike had only stayed in her room for a little more than a week, when he'd returned to his cot in the basement. She hadn't told him to, he just had one night, and she hadn't said anything about it; hadn't gone to him like she should have. He'd gone because he knew it was what she wanted. It was all just too much. He'd almost predicted it, but she'd told him that even if she had to bust his chops that it would never mean that she still didn't love him, always.

But once back, with the weight of trying to work, training the Potentials, the Shadowmen fiasco, Giles trying to get to the root of Spike's trigger, and the thing with Wood...it had all just been too much.

But Spike was hers. For years now, she’d made him crazy with loving her, when all she’d ever done is take from him. Take his love, take his passion, his strength. Let him think that she was worth it. That was the biggest joke. Let him think he'd finally earned her love, let him take her away for the weekend, tell him she'd fallen in love with him, that she would always love him...and she had, she did...

But it hadn’t taken long to return to the 'old' her, the one who couldn't give and couldn't receive. The one who held herself aloof, apart from everyone, the one who 'slipped' away, the one who could pretend that what was real, wasn’t.

And when they, her friends and Potentials, even Dawn had enough of her, they'd cast her out, who had been the only one who came for her? Spike.

He was the only one who always had her back.

He'd told her she was a, "Hell of a woman," that she was "The One." Poured his heart out to her, without expecting anything in return.

She’d asked him to stay with her then, just hold her, and he had, without reservation.

The next day, after she was back home, she’d told him how he had given her the strength to go on, to do what was necessary, in order to fight Caleb, get the weapon that might help her win - the scythe.

Spike told her it had been the best night of his life.

Just holding her, comforting her, watching her sleep.

Buffy’s eyes filled with tears as she thought how simple and pure his needs had been. Just to be important in her eyes, to be needed, to be wanted.

Then Angel had been there, he’d come to her with information and the amulet, prepared to wear it himself to help Buffy do battle against The First. In a moment’s weakness, she’d hurt Spike by her kissing Angel. Stupid Buffy. She didn’t even know what possessed her to do so. She felt nothing when she kissed him, (not to mention, Spike was a far superior kisser!) just like she’d felt nothing when she’d seen the picture of him, Darla, and Dru that Spike had drawn. She just been so stunned and grateful that, momentarily, she’d reverted to an older behavior, almost automatically. It hadn't taken but a minute to come to her senses, soon realizing that it wasn’t Angel who she wanted to share this battle with, that Angel wasn't her champion any longer. It was Spike.

Spike.

He’d been gracious enough about the kiss, taking his anger out on the punching bag, with the silly little drawing of ‘the poof’ as he called him.

She’d given him the amulet. The amulet meant to be worn by someone more than human, a champion.

She’d been so relieved, when, after Spike at first told her that she couldn’t buy him off with shiny beads and sweet words, that he had his pride; that he'd quickly backpedaled, once again offering himself up to her as her comfort, her safety net. They held each other until Spike fell asleep. She stroked his arm that lay over her, trying to imprint on her memory the feel of him. Lying there, she wondered how she would fight this battle, until, later that night, unable to sleep, she rose, pacing the floors. It was only after The First came to her and opened its big mouth, that she got the idea of sharing the power that had always been hers (well, Faith’s too) and hers alone.

That last night she came to him in the basement. He rose from the cot where he’d been contemplating the amulet. She walked toward him slowly, putting her arms around his neck and kissed him. He had responded to her as he always had, with hunger and longing, and as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world. They’d made love one last time that night. Slowly and gently, as if it were their first time. And their last.

She heard throat clearing and sat up, wiping her eyes.

"Couldn’t sleep?" Giles asked her.

She shrugged, "Guess I had enough earlier."

Giles sat down next to her on the picnic table.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Giles broke the silence, "Are you alright, Buffy?"

She turned to look at him, "I don’t think I know what that means anymore."

She turned away once more, looking at the sky.

"Buffy, I've been wondering all this week, and I still don't understand what happened back there in the cavern. How the Hellmouth was closed? Why Sunnydale no longer exists?" Giles looked questioningly at Buffy.

"Spike," she answered, once again.

"But how, Buffy? How did he do this? Was it the amulet? Did it give him power? Did he activate it? How?"

"It was him, Giles. Spike," she repeated yet again, as she had from the first day.

Giles sighed, glancing at her sideways, as she looked up at the stars, "I would like to know one day, Buffy, when you're ready to tell me."

Buffy smiled to herself. It wasn't about when she would be ready; it was the fact that Giles never would. It was only academic interest, on his part, that made him want to know. He and the others had always doubted Spike, even when there was all the evidence to the contrary. Telling him would only seem like a way for her to say, "See, told you so!" and she would never, ever do that. To tell him what went on would be to dishonor and disrespect the memory of Spike. Her memories. Hers alone.

Her memories and knowledge that Spike was a good man and that he died a champion, a hero. They didn't see and so, they would never know.

Giles sat silent, then cleared his throat, "For what it's worth, Buffy, I'm sorry that he's gone," and with that he got up adding, "you should try to get some more rest, soon."

Buffy nodded.

Spike.

Giles didn't even use his name.

CHAPTER 2 - WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Over the next week, each member of the Scooby Gang came up and told her they were sorry for her loss, in so many words. Xander, Faith, even Wood.

Even Andrew, who said, "I always liked Spike, even though he bit me that time!"

Buffy laughed, knowing what Spike would have thought of this proclamation.

Of all of them, only Willow knew what was closest to the truth. She had been in the principal's office when the amulet exploded upward from Spike, breaking the floor and right up through the ceiling above her.

They were alone in the motor home one afternoon, when Willow knocked on Buffy's bedroom door.

"Come in."

"Buffy. How ya doin'?" Willow asked, looking sadly at her friend lying on the bed.

"Better. I guess. Just laying her thinking," she'd answered.

"About what?" Willow asked gently.

"Spike."

Willow smiled, "Thought so," she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I wanted to tell you something Buffy," Willow started out, with a worried expression on her face.

"What is it?" Buffy asked, alarmed, raising herself on one arm.

"It's nothing bad, Buffy. Sorry if I startled you. It's something good, I just didn't want to tell you, until...you'd had some time for yourself."

She continued, "I know Buffy," she said.

"Know what?"

"I know how Spike died. I saw it while I was working the spell, while I was ascending to temporary goddess-hood, saw how he would die. And then I felt it, when his light, his energy broke through the floor, right next to me.

I saw his goddess, Buffy, saw his humanity, his love, his wholeness, his soul," Willow said, as she took Buffy's hand.

She looked at Willow, her eyes growing large, as the latest dam broke, sending rivers of tears streaming down her face. Buffy grabbed Willow's hand tightly; her throat constricted, "Thank you," she said, "thank you."

Willow hugged Buffy to her, "I just wanted you to know that someone else knew what he was, what he did, how he…you know what I mean," she said, words failing her.

"I know," Buffy said, "and thank you for sticking up for me, for Spike and me, when we went away for the weekend. To Giles, to Xander."

"You guys loved each other, what's the big?" Willow smiled, shrugging her shoulders, as if they had been the most normal couple in the world.

Buffy looked at her, then cracked up.

They both laughed then, until they cried.

But it had felt good; cathartic, to have at least one person, (well, two, if you count Dawn's tenuous grip on the matter) know how much he meant to her, that she’d loved him, to see him as her beloved and as a hero. To not have to deny or hide her feelings anymore.

After that afternoon, they talked often, about Spike, Tara, Anya, their moms, and all the people they'd loved and lost. They talked about what they now wanted to do with their lives.

Willow had decided that she would accompany Giles back to England and help him set up a school for all the new slayers, where they could not only finish their high-school education, but learn the finer points of becoming a slayer. In the future, perhaps even think of starting a school stateside.

Willow hoped she'd be able to complete her own education at the nearby university.

She would also be living in close proximity to the coven, so she could hone her magic skills, as well.

Vi and the other three remaining slayers would accompany them, as would Kennedy.

Xander decided to go to New Jersey to work for a distant first cousin, who offered him an office job in construction, assuring them that he would be willing to help them anytime the need arose.

Andrew decided to enroll in college to study journalism and filmmaking, believing that his redemption if not in telling Buffy's story (which she adamantly refused!) would be in telling the stories of others that had no voice.

Faith and Robin decided they would travel to Cleveland to see if they could help control the latest Hellmouth and to train girls in that area. Maybe, open up that stateside school someday. Robin also insisted that Faith study for her G.E.D., with his help, and maybe, just maybe, go on to college herself someday.

Over the next week they bought cameras. Lots and lots of Polaroid Instant Cameras and film, as well as disposable ones. They had no pictures of each other anymore, all had been lost. No pictures of Anya, none of her mom, no baby pictures, no favorite picture of the three of them - her, Willow, and Xander. And no picture of Spike.

Buffy grieved, remembering the wonderful pictures that Spike had drawn for her and that she'd brought back with her from Julian. She sobbed, thinking that she would never see a picture of him again, the drawings, the...all of a sudden, she remembered that there were duplicates that had remained behind, at his house. That gave way to more tears, but tears of relief and a vague sense of having a purpose now.

As for Dawn, Buffy and her had argued for the better part of a week about her future. Dawn wanted to go with Giles and Willow to England to help with research, and to go to school there. They'd talked of staying together, but that didn't seem like a good option at the moment, with Buffy having neither a home nor job.

Finally, Buffy talked Dawn into the idea of her staying with their dad, Hank, at least until she finished high school. Hank was overwhelmingly glad to hear from Buffy, having feared the worst, when he'd heard of the evacuation, and eventual total destruction of Sunnydale.

Fatherly guilt also lent itself to the promise of Buffy receiving a loan-free gift of a '98 Red Subaru, with only 30,000 miles and a more than generous stipend, that he promised to send her every month, until she got on her feet.

It was a month later, and the last people to be dropped off by Giles, Willow, and Kennedy were Buffy and Dawn at Hank's. The motor home pulled up to a poshy neighborhood 25 miles north of L.A. at the address Hank had given them.

Xander had already been dropped off earlier in the day, Faith and Robin had left a few days ago for Cleveland, and Vi and the other three potentials/now slayers, were doing some shopping for things they needed at a mall a few miles away. Giles, Willow, and Kennedy were to meet up with them in an hour.

"Well, it looks like you're here," Giles said, turning off the motor. Buffy and Dawn got up, and grabbed the few belongings they had.

"I'm going to miss you guys so much!" Dawn said, hugging Giles and Willow. "You guys know that as soon as I graduate, I am so coming to England!"

"We know, Dawn, and you'll be more than welcome," Giles said, "but I think Buffy's right in having you finish high school here first. You'll be able to apply to the university near us from here, if that's what you still want then, and if you do, then..."

"I will, I will! Don't think that I'm not coming! You'd better have a place for me!" Dawn threatened.

"Always," Giles assured her. He would miss her, and when she'd grown up a bit more, he could see her possibly being something like a watcher. Her research skills were more than capable.

"You have my email, you'd better email me!" Dawn said to Willow and Kennedy.

"We will, every chance we get! I promise!" Willow said.

"I'll make sure she does," Kennedy added, hugging Willow lightly around the waist.

"Buffy!" Giles said, standing, "I'm going to miss you."

"Me, too," Buffy said, getting teary eyed, "thank you for everything."

"No, thank you, Buffy. For all your sacrifices. For Spike."

She looked at him, a lump rising in her throat. It was the first time Giles had said his name; it was a concession, of sorts. She just nodded, then quickly kissed his cheek and following Dawn, got off the motor home.

Willow followed her up the walkway, arm-in-arm.

"Buffy, I have something for you," Willow said, stopping and reaching into her backpack.

"What is it?" Buffy asked.

Willow looked at her, "It's from Spike. It's a letter, she said, handing her a bulky envelope. Please don't be mad at me, but he made me promise not to give it to you for at least a month, if he..."

"When?"

"The day before."

Buffy took the letter from her as if it were a china plate. It was wrapped in plastic.

She looked at Willow questioningly, who shrugged, "He gave it to me this way," she said.

"Thank you," Buffy said, her eyes moist with tears, as she tenderly put it into her purse. She would look at it later, when she was alone.

"Take care of yourself, Buffy. You know I'm only an email away, if you ever need me. Ever," Willow said, hugging Buffy.

"I know. I won't forget how can I? You're my best friend!" Buffy said, hugging her back.

Buffy finally let go, turning to go up the walkway. Before she got to the door, she turned and looked back once more. Willow was standing in the open doorway of the motor home. They gave each other a final wave, as the door closed. She watched, as it pulled away and went up the street until it was out of sight, and with it, memories of the past seven years.

Talking to Willow over the past couple of weeks had helped her accept the fact that Spike was gone, accept, (gratefully) now, that she was no longer The One. Accept that she’d been given something she thought she’d never have again, except for those two days in Julian, that had opened a curtain, a small window, into what could have been, and which Spike died in order for her to have - a normal life.

CHAPTER 3 - THE LETTER

"Good night, dad, night Dawn," Buffy said.

"Good night, Buffy," Dawn and her dad echoed from the living room.

After their reunion, complete with tears, they had talked all day. Hank had ordered out Chinese for them, and had seemed genuinely glad to see both his girls.

Buffy was glad, particularly for Dawn, who hadn't had a real father figure in so long. She was eating up his attention, and had quickly gotten into the idea of staying there as 'daddy's little girl,' especially with a nearby mall and the use of a car and daddy's credit cards.

Buffy had decided after dinner, that she'd had enough of the fatherly-make-up-for-lost-time-feel-good-a-thon, and had told them she was going to bed.

Since there was only one small bed in the guestroom, Dawn had decided she would sleep on the couch, until Buffy left.

She closed the door to the bedroom. After Buffy put on her pajamas, she sat on the edge of the bed, opened her purse, and took out the envelope wrapped in plastic.

As she unwrapped it, she smelled Spike, smelled his leather coat, smelled his brand of cigarettes, and most of all, smelled him. As she opened the bulky envelope, she knew why. Inside there was a piece of his black leather coat, cut into a heart shape, a mostly empty cigarette pack, his trusty lighter, a map he’d drawn, and the letter.

Blinking back the tears, she wiped her eyes with the edge of her pajama top.

She opened the letter, looking at his familiar, old-fashioned handwriting.

Dear Buffy,

If you are reading this, then you know I am no longer alive, or undead, rather. If you are reading this then you know I am gone.

If you are reading this then you are alive, you are living!

I don't plan on coming back from this fight, if that's what it takes to keep you safe. Sorry, but you are not going to be the one to take 'one for the team' this time, Slayer. It's my turn.

I've lived and I've died. It's your turn now, to have what you've always wanted - a normal life.

Today when you told everyone your plan, to share your power, my heart was filled with happiness for you, even if it meant that I wouldn't be around to share it. You no longer have to be The One. No longer chosen, and all that stuff.

To me, though, you will always be The One! You are the one who filled my cold heart with warmth, my blackness with light, my being with a conscience, even before I got my soul.

You are My Chosen. If I could have had any woman in all the world, I would still have chosen you to love, to give my heart to forever. Even when I'm gone, you have my heart and all of my love. Forever, Buffy, forever.

And through it all, I know that you've loved me, too. Please don't worry that you didn't say it enough to me these past couple of months, or not at all. I've known your heart, as you've known mine. And your heart is golden!

Now onto some business:

When we were in Julian, that evening, after the Hot Springs, when you were taking a shower, I called Edna's son Lawrence McKennitt, Jr., to make some arrangements regarding the house. I had him make out a will, deeding the house to you, and leaving a good amount of money in an account for Dawn to use for college. And of course, there's money for you, too - to use as you see fit.

Lawrence has had my power of attorney before, so things should all be in order. I was going to have him send the paperwork to your house, but once we got back, I realized that would be risky, what with the postal service being all wonky, the chance of important papers getting lost, and most of all, you. I knew you would never, ever be able to discuss this rationally with me, so I called Lawrence and had him send the paperwork to The Rittenhouse instead. Edna should have it for you. All you have to do is contact him at this number: 760-555-1382, and he will arrange to meet you either there or at his home/office in San Diego, in order to make things all legal-like.

Another thing, I packed up a box of your belongings and some of mine, just in case something happened to all of us, and we couldn't get back to your house. I called Clem on his cell phone. Luckily, he was only visiting some friends in San Diego. He got a ride back here, well to the edge of town, where I met him and gave him the box. It will be at the house up there. He also took my car, so if you need some wheels…the DeSoto is there also.

Hope you didn't bust anyone's chops if you noticed things were missing.

Vamp1 to Slayer 1: :)> That's me smiling, with fangs!

Please know that I want you to do whatever you want, in regards to the house. If you want to live there, that's fine, if you want to sell it, that's fine, too. I just want you to have it, but not be bound by it, or by me.

If Clem is still around, I'm sure he'll help you anyway he can. He knows about my wishes, the house, and pretty much all that I've told you about that.

I've included the only things I have on me to give you - a piece of the duster, (from the pocket, I couldn’t’ just cut it right out of the front of the coat now, could I? Didn’t think you’d want me to be fighting beside you, looking like a poof, right? The ubies might roll over with laughter, but don’t think it’d kill ‘em. Besides, think I’ve rather ‘outgrown’ the whole duster thing, don’t you?) and my smokes and lighter. It's all I have. That and my heart, my very soul, and all of my love.

Live, so one of us is living.

Please live for me, Buffy.

My love always,

Spike

P.S. Say hello to Snowman Spike for me, if you see him again sometime.

P.S.S. Take good care of the DeSoto, change the oil every 3,000 miles, and don’t put it in 2nd gear until you are at least going 25mph, 40mph+ for 3rd gear. The clutch slips sometimes, just play with it. It may need to be adjusted. Don’t’ take it to some bargain garage, ok? You can drive a stick, can’t you?

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, tears spilling onto the pages of the letter.

She hugged the heart to her face and inhaled the scent.

"Thank you, Spike," she whispered.

Finally, she folded the pages of the letter and put them back into the envelope, along with the cigarettes and lighter, and turned out the light.

She put the heart on a spare pillow, right next to her face and inhaled deeply, pretending it was Spike next to her, sharing her bed.

Happy tears spilled down her face, tears of relief.

After a month of uncertainty, for the first time, she knew what direction home was.

CHAPTER 4 - DISNEYLAND

Buffy woke in the morning feeling for the first time in a month, that she had a plan.

She went out to the kitchen where Hank was getting breakfast on the table.

"How'd you sleep, princess?" he asked her, reminding her of the name he used to call her when she was little.

"Fine. Really well," she said, smiling.

"Me, too!" said Dawn, happily. Obviously, having a normal father, in a normal setting was agreeing with her.

Buffy got a cup of coffee and sat down to breakfast. French Toast. She stopped suddenly; tears threatened to spill forth. French Toast. Spike. Julian.

"What's wrong, Buffy?" Hank asked.

"Oh, nothing, just remembering that you used to make this for me when I was young, didn't you?"

Hank smiled, "Sure did, even after your mother and I split, I used to make this for you gals," he said, unaware of the sad glance that Dawn and Buffy exchanged over the split, over their mother.

"Um...there's something I wanted to tell you both," Buffy said.

"What is it?" Dawn asked.

"I talked to an old college friend last night on my cell phone, she invited me down to San Diego to stay with her, while I get on my feet, get a job, whatever," Buffy said.

"What friend?" Dawn looked at Buffy suspiciously.

"Kathy," Buffy said, quickly, "You don't know her, she was in my English Lit Class Freshman year.

"Oh, and when did you become such good buds with her?" Dawn asked, raising her eyebrow.

Damn that Dawn!

Hank interrupted, "Well, that's good news, I'm sure you want to get back into your own place as soon as possible."

Gee, welcome-mat, much?

"Yeah, that's what I want," Buffy said.

"But you can't leave quite yet," Hank continued.

"Huh? Why not?" Buffy asked.

Dawn and Hank looked at each other, smiling, then said in unison, "Because you're going to Disneyland, Buffy Summers!"

Buffy looked at them like they'd gone mad.

"Really, Buffy. It'll be fun!" Dawn squealed. "Dad and I were talking about it last night. Come on, what do you say? Just for today?"

Buffy shrugged, what the heck, she avoided another apocalypse, why not?

"Mickey Mouse Me!" Buffy said.

And so they went to Disneyland, one month and one day after the world had almost ended. One month and one day after Spike had given his life for hers.

Her and Dawn rode in the little Mad Hatter TeaCups, screamed on the Star Wars Roller Coaster, and surprising all other riders nearby, cried when going through, "It's a Small World."

They got a picture taken with Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

They left at dusk, walking out through the Magic Castle and to the parking lot. They were home about 8pm.

Buffy walked into her room and gathered up her things.

"You're leaving now?" Dawn asked, incredulous.

"I have to," Buffy replied, "I need to."

"Why? What's going on Buffy, and don't give me that crap about your 'good friend, Kathy' either!"

Buffy sighed.

"There's a place that Spike took me to, that weekend you were at Janice's. Willow gave me a letter. It was from Spike. He told me," she closed her eyes a moment, "he told me I could stay there, if..."

"Oh," Dawn said, suddenly understanding.

"I just want to be there right now, need to," Buffy said.

Dawn nodded.

"How long will you stay?" she asked.

"I don't know. A while or maybe…I'll just live there," Buffy said, shrugging.

"Can you, I mean..."

"Spike took care of everything," she said, looking at Dawn, "even in his death, he's taking care of me. Still."

Dawn smiled, "I'm glad then. For you. You'll write? Email? Call?"

"Everyday, well, almost everyday!"

"Good."

"Good."

Buffy gathered up her bags, and they walked out to the living room arm in arm.

"You're leaving now?" Hank asked, seeing her.

"Um, yeah, Kathy's kind of waiting for me," she said.

"I see," he answered, looking a bit disappointed, "well, better give you the car keys, and all that.

He spent the next half-hour going over the finer and not so fine points of the Subaru. He signed over the title to her, reminding her that she needed to get it changed into her name at the D.M.V., and gave her the owner's manual. He told her how to get to the highway from his place.

"If it has any problems, just let me know, I'll help you out, if it needs any work, ok?"

"Thanks, daddy!" Buffy said, calling him that for the first time in years.

"I love you, princess. I know I hurt you in the last few years. I'm sorry. I really am, but I promise to be a better father to you from now on. Whatever you need, ok? And I want to see you every couple of months, too!"

Buffy smiled, who would've thunk it? "Okay, it's a deal. And thank you. For the car, the money, for everything."

"Once you get settled, just let me know where I can send the money to every month, ok? And if you think you're not going to be staying in one place very long, just get a P.O. Box, then you won't wind up missing your mail."

"Good idea, dad. Thanks," Buffy said, getting into the driver's seat.

It had been so long since she learned, she wondered if she could even do it anymore. Well, she'd better learn fast!

She put the car into drive, eased off the brake and "Hey, I'm driving!" she thought to herself.

Dawn made a face at her and crossed her fingers. Buffy smiled back, waved at her dad and Dawn, and pulled out.

"Turn on the headlights!" she heard them yell. She turned on the lights, and waved her hand.

Once she turned the corner, she pulled over at the curb. Putting the car into park, she took out the map Spike had drawn and studied it for a couple of minutes.

Driving like a little old lady, she found the on-ramp for the highway, then about 20 minutes later, the interchange for Hwy. 15 South.

"Accelerate, accelerate," she told herself, as she got on the interchange ramp.

"Whew!" she said, as she eased into the flow of traffic, without killing herself of causing a major pile-up.

She was on her way!

CHAPTER 5 - YOU HAVE TO LIVE

After a while, Buffy turned onto Hwy. 79, South. About 55 minutes later, she came to the exit for Santa Ysabel, looking at the signs, then turned left toward Julian. As soon as she came to a gas station, she stopped, filled the car up, then pulled it over toward the side and opened up her purse. Hands shaking, she took out Spike's hand drawn map and looked at it and read his directions.

"From the exit, it's 4.2 miles to the driveway, (north side of the road - right side) there are two birch trees on the left side of the entrance, and an oak and a birch on the right side. The oak tree has a 2-foot gash about 3 feet from the bottom. This will be the easiest for you to spot."

Buffy turned the car around and headed back to the highway. Turning around again, she reset the trip-meter on zero, and watched the numbers. Just as she got to 4.1 she slowed down. The road was pitch dark and she was having trouble seeing. Finally, she saw the white bark of some birch trees and slowed down. Stopping the car, Buffy got out and walked along the road. She had gone about 20 yards when she saw the oak tree with the gash, and the entrance. She hurried back to the car and turned onto the gravel road. She remembered the bumpy ride lasted about 5 minutes.

As she drove, she realized that she'd passed the point where the gate of trees should have been and was getting nearer the house.

All of a sudden it came into view and she saw light glowing from the front windows.

She pulled up and jumped from the car, heart in her throat and ran up to the house, throwing open the door.

The fireplace was going and candles were lit.

"Oh, God!" she said, heart pounding in her chest. Could Spike...?

"Spike!" she yelled running through the house, "Spike!"

She went to the bedrooms, bathroom, even upstairs to the annex calling his name.

She'd just come down when she heard someone coming in the back door; happiness flushed her face, as she ran through the dining room into the kitchen, "Spike!"

"Buffy?" the voice said.

She came into the kitchen and stopped suddenly, looking at Clem. Her face crumpled as she gripped the edge of the table, falling into the nearest chair.

Clem looked scared, "What's wrong Buffy? Where's Spike? I heard you calling him," he asked.

Buffy looked up at Clem, her eyes filling with tears; "He's gone Clem, he's, he's...dead. I thought...when I saw the light coming from the window, the gate open, I don't know what I was thinking, maybe that a miracle had happened..."

"Oh, Buffy!" Clem said, his eyes filling with tears too.

"I was afraid of this. He told me that if he survived he'd call me and I hadn't heard from him," he sniffed and put his arms around Buffy.

Still sitting, she let herself be comforted by him, crying into his stomach.

Finally, she stood up and walked over to the sink. She turned to look at Clem, a question occurring to her, "Why is the house lit up?" she asked.

Clem wiped his eyes on his checkered shirt, "Spike called me about a month ago and told me things were going down the next day. He said that if you made it and he didn't, he figured you'd eventually make it up here. He said probably within a month or two. He asked me to leave the gate open and the fireplace going everynight; for as long as I could. He asked me to stay up here for that time, do that for him," Clem said, looking at Buffy.

"Oh, Clem!" she said, going over and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"You've done this vigil every night, since...?"

Clem nodded.

"Thank you," Buffy said.

"It's ok. I'm just sorry that you thought it was Spike," Clem replied, a bit sheepishly.

"No. That's my fault. I knew he wasn't...but it was him, wasn't it? Making it better for me, even now that he's..."

Clem nodded, "Yeah, that Spike was a good..."

"Man. He was a good man!" Buffy finished.

Buffy and Clem talked a while longer, before Clem took his leave. He promised to come over the next day, toward late afternoon and start showing her the things she would need to know, in order to keep the house running smoothly. Things like firewood, and generators, oil, kerosene, hidden gate latches, and the like.

"Thanks Clem, see you tomorrow," Buffy said, letting him out the front door.

"Have a good night, Buffy," Clem said, as he walked down the road.

Buffy closed the door, turning around toward the fireplace.

She walked over to the couch and sat down in front of it, staring at the fire, "You're still looking out for me, aren't you, Spike?" she asked into the air.

"You're all around me here, I can feel you, I can..." she laid her head on her knees and gave into the pain.

"I miss you, I want to feel your arms around me, I need you!" her voice rose, hysteria all of a sudden threatening to overtake her.

"How dare you die and leave me here? I don't care about a normal life, damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! I'll never have what I had with you with anyone else. Never! Why did you leave me?"

She got up and started pacing, "I don't want this house, you stupid bastard! I want you! Not your house, you! You! Please, please, please, please, come back, you can't be gone! Stupid, self-sacrificing bastard!" she screamed throwing an ashtray into the fireplace as hard as she could.

The ashtray made a satisfying crash, as wood, ash, and glass exploded together, showering the floor and rug with flying sparks.

Buffy quickly stomped out the burning cinders, tears running down her face, she paced angrily back and forth pulling at the sleeves of her arms.

An idea occurred to her and she ran into the kitchen grabbing a kitchen knife, then ran into ‘her’ room and opening the door to the annex ran upstairs. She felt along the walls until she came to the blinds, and threw them open, bathing the room in moonlight.

"You think you built this ‘suicide annex’ only for you?" Buffy asked, hysteria in her voice, "I’ll show you," she said taking the knife and placing it against her heart, starting to push.

Just then, the room was awash in a swirling white light, as the knife was thrown across her room by a powerful force, as she was thrown back onto the couch.

"YOU WILL NOT DO THIS!" his voice said, within and outside her.

"Why not?" she screamed at him, "Why not?"

"You think I died so you could kill yourself?"

She didn’t answer.

"You have to live," it said, gentler this time.

"Why? Everyone has their own lives now, I have nothing. Nothing," Buffy said, looking into the light, trying to find him.

"You have you. YOU! You have your whole life ahead of you."

She snorted.

All of a sudden she saw his form in the light, she jumped up, going up to him, "Spike," she reached for his cheek, but her hand went through him.

"Buffy, I’ll always love you, but I can’t live for you, pet. That’s something you have to do for yourself. For me," he started to fade.

"No, don’t leave me!" she cried out to him.

"Go downstairs now. There’s something you forgot, something for you. Go Buffy. Go and live!"

And then the light was gone.

"Spike!" Buffy said, crumpling to the ground, head in her hands.

She woke up a few hours later, to the sound of rain against the windows. She sat up, startled until she remembered where she was. Shivering against the cold, she closed the slats of the windows, made her way along the wall and went down the stairs.

It was dark downstairs; the fireplace was just about out. Buffy found some matches in the kitchen and lit a lantern that she found.

Wearily, she made her way to ‘their’ bedroom. She put the lantern on the night table and sat on the edge of the bed, then lay back. As she did her head hit something and she bolted up. She turned around to find out what it was, and then she saw it. The purple velvet box containing her lovebird necklace and the Shakespeare book that she’d given Spike. Tears fell anew, as she opened the box. She touched the lovebirds gently, then took it out, looking at it in the light. She remembered Spike putting it around her neck, more than once. His gentle hands…his hands.

Hands that fought her, punched her, caressed her, saved her, loved her, their hands catching fire, together.

She took the necklace in her hands and put it on. She would never take it off again. Never.

She lay down; clutching the book she’d given him to her, and cried herself to sleep.