CHAPTER 13 - HAVE TO FIND IT

Buffy's hands shook as she reached for the phone to call Prof. Lipton. She put the phone back down, what was she going to say? "Hi Prof. Lipton, you don't know me, but I believe that you've dug up the potentially powerful amulet that my vampire-lover was wearing when he saved the world and closed the Hellmouth that was once Sunnydale?"

"Not bloody likely!" she smiled, having used his expression.

"I'll think of something," she told herself as she dialed his number.

"Pick up, pick up!" Buffy said to the phone as it rang.

"Hello, Department of Archaeology," said a pleasant voice.

"Hello, this is Elizabeth Worthington, I'd like to speak to Prof. Lipton, please," she said, heart pounding.

"Oh, I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Why not?" Buffy asked, starting to panic.

"Well, he's gone for the summer, he's gone on a dig in Egypt," the woman answered Buffy.

Great.

"Do you know how to get in touch with him, it's very important," Buffy persisted.

"Are you family?"

"Er, no, it's about...about his Sunnydale dig."

"What about it?"

"I saw the article, and the picture, and I...I thought I recognized an old family heirloom," Buffy lied, getting into peak performance, she continued, "you see, I lost all of my family that day. I was away at school, but my family,"

she sniffed for effect, "they'd stayed behind. Then the other day I saw Prof. Lipton's article and it showed a picture. I recognized an old necklace that used to belong to my grandmother, and so I was wondering if I could take a look at it, if Prof. Lipton still had it."

Breathe.

Silence.

"Well, I know for a fact, that Prof. Lipton has sent on all his findings from the dig, either to his home or on to a museum. Usually he catalogs them first, then he photographs them, or draws them and does casts of them. But you say it's a necklace? Probably just took a picture then. But I've no way of knowing where it is right now, you'll have to get a hold of Prof. when he comes back."

"When will that be?"

"Let me see? Oh, I was going to say that he'd be back next month, but I see he's taking a Sabbatical until winter semester," she told Buffy.

"I have to get in touch with him before that!" Buffy said. "Isn't there some way? Does he have email?"

"I can give you his email, but you should know, Prof. Lipton is not very good with the new technology. He may only check his email once every couple of weeks, if that, so I shouldn't expect much in the way of a reply, if I were you," she advised Buffy.

"That's ok, if I could just have it?"

"Sure, it's hlipton@sanblink.ucsb.edu."

"Thanks. Oh, just one more question. What museum usually gets Prof. Lipton's finds?"

"Oh, that would be in his home town, The Field Museum in Chicago, IL," the woman said.

"Chicago?"

"Yeah, that's where Prof. Lipton lives when he's not teaching. Wouldn't give up his Gold Coast apartment for anything," she said, laughing, "now, is there anything else?"

"No, you've been very helpful, thank you," Buffy said, hanging up.

Chicago?

Buffy hurriedly connected her laptop and wrote to Prof. Lipton, requesting a meeting with him when he returned from his dig, telling him about the family 'heirloom,' and also, letting him know of her 'friend' who would be interested in working on the Sunnydale dig, should he...well...start digging again.

She pressed send.

Now what? She paced around the house, trying to focus.

What did it mean that the amulet had surfaced? Shouldn't it have been destroyed like everything else? You'd think with all that light coming from it…all that light and 'cleansing power' of Spike's soul.

Spike's soul.

She wondered where it had come to rest, if it had finally come to rest. If anybody's soul deserved it, it was his.

She reached up and found her face, unexpectedly wet.

She had been trying to go on all these years, yet sometimes she missed him so much she ached. Missed his touch and his witty banter, his eyes when they saw her in ways that only he could, his lips, his...

She flung the back door opened and stomped off to the garage and spent the next hour and a half hitting the punching bag.

She let herself back in and immediately went to the computer to check her email. Nothing. Not that she'd expected anything, really. She just hoped that the woman had been wrong and that Prof. Lipton would check his email soon.

One thing she knew for sure, she had to find that amulet.

CHAPTER 14 - CHICAGO

Buffy continued with her summer school classes, checking her email every day, but to no avail.

Finally, August, 15th, she got an email response from Prof. Lipton, it read, "Dear Ms. Worthington, I am sorry to not have gotten back to you sooner. I will be back in Chicago on August 20th, if you'd like to contact me at home, my phone # is: 312-555-0982. I will only be there for a couple of days before heading off to South America. As to the where-a- bouts of the necklace, I believe it's still at my apartment, but my assistant may have packed it up and shipped it to the museum already. Upon my return, I look forward to talking to you about the history of the necklace. Prof. Lipton."

Buffy's heart was pounding.

She hung up the phone, then called Southwest Airlines booking the soonest flight on Aug. 21st.

Buffy finished school on Aug. 18th and had her first day of orientation at Montessori on Aug. 19th.

"School doesn't start for the students until September 5th, but as a new teacher, you'll have to have at least 2 weeks training starting Aug. 21st down in San Diego, " Mrs. Carpello, the principal told her.

"Um...I...I'm so sorry, but I'm not going to be in town on Aug. 21st, see I have a family reunion in Chicago that date. It was booked before I got this job, and I don't think I can even get any of my money back now, " Buffy lied.

Great, great way to start a new job!

Mrs. Carpello stared at her disapprovingly, "This isn't the best foot for you to start out on here," she said.

"I know, I'm really sorry." Buffy said.

Mrs. Carpello looked at her, wondering if she'd made the best decision in hiring her.

"You'll be back the next day?"

"The 23rd, " Buffy said, though actually, her ticket's return was open-ended.

Mrs. Carpello was looking unhappier by the minute.

"I'll be back," she told Buffy.

Great, just great!

Mrs. Carpello came back a few minutes later, "I just talked to the school and they said that if you could pick up the first two days worksheets and booklets," she paused, "you can take them with you, right?"

Buffy nodded, enthusiastically.

"Well then, you can work on those while you're away. Take a tape recorder to Mrs. Liptak, and she'll make sure to record the lectures for you, so you'll have those when you return," she said, giving Buffy the address.

"Thank you, and I'm really sorry. I'll go right now and get the worksheets and booklets," she said, as she stood up to leave.

"Don't let this happen again," Mrs. Carpello warned.

"I won't, I promise," Buffy said, hoping it was true.

Aug. 21, 2007 2:00pm

"Welcome to O'Hare International Airport," the flight attendant said over the intercom.

Buffy and Dawn turned to look at one another and smiled.

Buffy hadn't wanted to involve Dawn or anybody else in this, but seeing as Dawn was really an archaeology student, she thought that might work in her favor when meeting with Prof. Lipton.

"Did he tell you he’d be home?" Dawn asked for the third time.

"No, but he was supposed to be back yesterday. I figure we’ll just call and go over there when we get a hold of him."

"Sounds sort of iffy," Dawn said, then seeing Buffy’s face, recanted, "but that’s probably the best idea. Other than having a firm appointment," she grinned.

Buffy signed.

"Can we rent a car?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah, we could, but who’s going to drive here? Well, guess you could, but let’s just do the cab thing, that way we don’t have to worry about getting lost, okay?"

"Sure, whatever," Dawn replied.

"Where to ladies?" the cabby asked outside the terminal.

"Water Tower Place," said Dawn, turning to Buffy, "It’s only a few blocks from the Professor’s apartment, we’ll have some lunch, look around a bit before going over there, alright? Please Buffy?" Dawn asked.

"Sure, it’ll be fun," she said; though fun wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.

The ride to the city was non-eventful, but as the cab neared downtown and the Magnificent Mile, Buffy and Dawn were both awe struck by the beauty of the city.

The cabby had said that for $20 more, he’d take them downtown, along the lakefront and by Navy Pier. They’d agreed.

Finally, they pulled up in front of Water Tower Place, and handed the cabby $50.00, "Thanks," they said, getting our of the most expensive cab ride they’d ever been on.

"Thank you, ladies," he said, then gave them his card, "if you need a ride anywhere and you can’t find a cab, or want another special tour, just call this number, it’s my pager. Just put in 555 and I’ll know it’s yous," he told them.

"Okay," Buffy said, taking the card. She didn’t think much of it one way or the other. Maybe all cabbies in Chicago tried to secure a little business this way. However, in the not too distant future, this little exchange would come in handy.

They had lunch at the least expensive eatery in the mall called, what else? California Pizza Kitchen, "Figures," Dawn lamented.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, "You can take the girl out of California…"

Dawn rolled her eyes.

They finished their ‘healthy, California styled pizza slices, paid their not-that-cheap $27 bill, and did a bit of quick shopping.

First they went to Marshall Field, then to Lord & Taylor, both getting one nice thing at each store. Buffy got a skirt and top from Marshall Field, and a pair of shoes from Lord & Taylor. Dawn got a pair of silk pajamas from Marshall Field and a nice pants suit from Lord & Taylor.

A couple of hours later, they walked over to the adjoining Ritz Carlton and checked in. After showering and changing, they decided to walk to Prof. Lipton’s home. Buffy had tried him numerous times and each time, the phone had been busy, so she knew someone was there.

"This is it," Buffy said, standing in front of large, turn-of-the-century brownstone, "1240 Lakeshore Drive."

Buffy and Dawn walked up the front steps and looked at the names on the doorbells, she quickly spotted  H. Lipton 3-C. Buffy pressed the buzzer and waited. Nothing. A few minutes later, she buzzed again. Still nothing. She took her cell phone out and hit redial. There was that busy signal again.

"What the hell?" Buffy said, looking at Dawn, who shrugged.

Just then someone came out of the building and smiled at the two ladies standing there. Dawn gave him her most flirtatious smile, while Buffy stuck her toe in the door before it locked shut behind him.

As soon as he turned onto the sidewalk, Buffy and Dawn walked in and went up to the third floor. The stairs were wide and made of oak, the wallpaper, which looked original was velvety red on gold. The building itself had an old musty smell to it. Not bad, just rich with history, Buffy thought.

They came to the third floor and started looking for numbers. They found 3-C and knocked. No answer. They knocked again. Again, no answer.

Buffy tried the door and it opened, "Hello? Prof. Lipton? It’s Bu…it’s Elizabeth Worthington," she said, ignoring Dawn’s look, "I emailed you about the amulet you found in the Sunnydale dig."

There was no answer.

Buffy and Dawn slowly walked in. Buffy turned on a lamp and her and Dawn gasped at the sight before them, for it appeared that the whole apartment had been ransacked from top to bottom. Cartons had been torn open and their contents spilled out, shelves were knocked over, with books, papers, and other stuff littering the floor.

They walked into the bedroom, only to see drawers emptied out, clothes were half in, half out of cartons that lay all over the bed.

Dawn looked at Buffy, "I don’t understand, didn’t you say he was here?"

"He was supposed to be," Buffy said, "said he was getting back yesterday…"

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

Dawn nodded, hearing a noise in the living room.

Buffy pulled Dawn toward the wall, as they stepped behind a door.

The door opened slowly and Buffy grabbed the person from behind by the throat.

A woman screamed and partly fainted, as Buffy screamed, "Who are you? Where’s Prof. Lipton?"

Choking sounds…"Please don’t hurt me," the woman whimpered.

Buffy let her go, glaring at her, "Who are you?"

"I’m…I’m Prof. Lipton’s assistant, who are you?" she asked, heart pounding as she looked from Buffy to Dawn.

"I’m…Elizabeth Worthington, Prof. Lipton was expecting me. In a manner of speaking. We corresponded before he came back."

"You must mean before he was to come back," the woman said, getting some composure.

"What do you mean? Supposed to come back? He emailed me telling me he’d be back in Chicago yesterday."

"Well, Ms…Worthington, I’m afraid there’s been a change in plans."

"What’s that?" Buffy asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"He’s dead," his assistant said.

CHAPTER 15 - DEAD

"What do you mean, dead?" Buffy asked.

"D.E.A.D., dead, as in no more," his assistant said, now taking the offensive.

"How?" Buffy asked.

"Natural causes. He died in his sleep last week on the 17th, before he could come home," she said.

"Now, let me ask you something. What are you doing here in the professor's apartment and what were you looking for? I'll give you one minute to answer me before phoning the police," she said, walking over to the phone, which was knocked off its cradle.

"Whoa! You think we did this? You got to be kidding me. We just got here 5 minutes before, you can ask that good looking guy who let us in," Buffy said, fibbing about just how they got in.

She sighed, "No, I know you didn't do this, I found it like this a couple of days ago, I just came over tonight to try to put some of this stuff back into some cartons, so his daughter can look through it tomorrow."

"What happened, er, Miss?"

"Mrs. O'Brien, Margie. I was Prof. Lipton's assistant when he taught at Northwestern and I worked for him whenever he needed me to. And you're?"

"Elizabeth Worthington and my sister Donna," Buffy said, ignoring Dawn mouthing 'Donna?' to her.

There was a silence as they looked at the mess that was the professor's bedroom.

"When exactly did you find it like this?" Buffy asked.

"Well, let's see. His colleague in Egypt called me telling me of his death on the 18th. I made arrangements to have his body picked up at the airport by the funeral home on the19th, and yes, it was the same day, I came here to find a suit for his...funeral. And I found it like this. I don't know how long it had been like this. His neighbor upstairs seemed to think she heard something the night before, but she's 81, so not so sure with the time frame. And his neighbors on this floor? Said they didn't hear anything. Can you imagine that, by the looks of this?" she asked.

Buffy shook her head no, "No. It would seem someone would have had to heard something," she agreed.

Buffy then told Margie about why she had requested to meet with Prof. Lipton, "Do you remember anything he brought back from the Sunnydale dig?" she asked.

Margie thought a minute, "Well, I did forward a box to his office in the Field Museum about a month ago. That box came from his office assistant in California, so that may very well have been what you're looking for."

"How do I find out? And if they, the museum has it, how do I, ask for my grandmother's necklace back?" Buffy asked.

Margie gave her the name of the head of the archaeology department at the museum and told her to call him tomorrow, "Perhaps, he'll be able to sort through this for you," she said.

"Couldn't you just explain to him, that you'd sent the box in error?" Buffy asked.

"I'm afraid not, Ms. Worthington. I don't know you, and I don't know what you and the professor discussed. I think you'll just have to take your request to him now, that the professor is dead," she said, "now, if there's nothing else, I've got a big mess to clean up in here, before his daughter Rebecca gets here tomorrow."

"Well, thank you. I'm sorry about the professor," Buffy said.

Margie walked them to the door, "Good luck, Elizabeth. Give Donald a call tomorrow, he's pretty helpful, I'm betting he'll let you take a look at that stuff," she said.

"Thanks," Buffy said, as her and Dawn walked out.

"Crap!" she said.

"Ditto that!" Dawn answered.

CHAPTER 16 - FIELD MUSEUM

Buffy didn't sleep well that night, even though she had a more than comfortable king sized bed. Somehow, that made it all the more difficult. Too big, too lonely.

She got up and looked out at the city from her 20th floor suite. Beautiful city, beautiful lakefront.

She wondered who had broken into Prof. Lipton's apartment and had it anything to do with the amulet. Her senses were telling her that it did, although a part, a big part of her wanted to just think that it was a random theft, at a random apartment. But by the looks of it, whoever was responsible had thoroughly turned the apartment upside down looking for something.

The next morning, Buffy woke Dawn at 7:30am to get ready.

"Come on, Dawn, we've got to check out, go to the museum, and be on the flight back to L.A. at 5:00pm."

"Okay, okay," Dawn said, getting up.

They checked out by 8:30am and stored their suitcases with the hotel until later.

They walked through Water Tower Place stopping at the only eatery that was open for breakfast - McDonalds.

"I just love this, Buffy," said Dawn, "I come to Chicago, and where do I wind up eating? California Pizza Kitchen and McDonalds!"

"Well, we did go to Gino's East for pizza last night before we went back to the hotel, remember?"

"Yeah, guess the trip wasn't a total waste," Dawn said brightly, then looked at Buffy's face, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, we'll find out something today, promise!"

"Hope so," Buffy replied, looking downcast.

They grabbed a cab and were at the museum by 10:00am. "Wow, Sue!" Dawn said as they walked in, seeing the most complete T-Rex ever assembled. They paid their entrance fee and asked for the office of Donald Johanson. They were directed to an office in the basement.

They knocked at the door and a man in his late 50's wearing khaki pants and a mustard colored, rather wrinkly cardigan opened the door.

"Are you Donald Johanson?" Buffy asked.

"Are you THE Donald Johanson?" Dawn chimed in.

"Yes to you," he said to Buffy, "and no, to you. I'm a Donald Johanson, not the Donald Johanson who discovered Lucy, if that's what you're referring to," he said to Dawn.

She nodded, "Oh, sorry, just thought with the name and working at the museum and all that..."

"Wrong museum, wrong, department," he said, "now, what can I do for you..."

"Oh, sorry," Buffy said, "I'm Elizabeth Worthington and this is my sister Donna."

Buffy then explained about her correspondence with Prof. Lipton and the 'necklace.'

"Yes, I was very sorry to hear about Harold's death. Very surprising, very sad. Let me take a look at what's come in lately," he said, looking at a list of deliveries.

"Hmmm, not here. Let's go take a walk to his office, shall we?"

Buffy and Dawn followed him through some doors that were off limits to the public that took them to the other side of the museum basement.

"Oh dear," he said.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Looks like Harold's office was one of those slated for remodeling," he said, as he pointed at the heavy plastic covering what was once a doorway. He drew back the plastic and shook his head.

"It's all been moved. Wait here, while I ask where it's all gone to," he said, hurrying off.

Buffy shook her head, "From bad to worse and the fun just keeps getting funner!"

Donald Johanson came back a few minutes later, "Found out where they put his office stuff," he said, smiling, "this way."

Another loop around the tunnels and they came to a double door with a keypad lock. Donald entered his code and they walked into an enormous warehouse that looked like it held a football field worth of cartons of all sizes. Shelves and cartons as far as the eye could see.

Buffy and Dawn just stood there with their mouths open.

Donald laughed, "Believe it or not girls, there's a system. He took out what looked like a calculator and entered a few things into it, "department + last name + month?" he looked at them.

"Do you know when it might have arrived here?"

"July, Prof. Lipton's assistant said she sent a box here for him a month ago," Buffy said.

"Okay. Department + last name + month = ...hmmm."

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Nothing's coming up. Let me change the month to August. He re-entered the information. "Sorry, still nothing."

"What about his office stuff that was moved, maybe it just got moved before it got time to be cataloged?" Dawn asked, hopefully.

"Well, everything that comes in is supposed to be catalogued, whether it's taken to an office, or if it's sent to storage," he said, gesturing around them.

He entered just the professor's name and they walked over to the section his 'calculator' told him it was at. They came to Section 504 and Donald Johanson, Buffy, and Dawn looked through the contents of his office for any signs of a small carton with the 'remains' of the Sunnydale dig in them. Two hours later they had gone through everything. Donald had actually left them for about half an hour while he had to attend to something.

Buffy stood still and tried to 'feel' where it was at, but to no avail, "Wish I'd called Willow, maybe she could have done a locator spell," Buffy said.

"I think that only would work if was alive, Buffy," Dawn said, then for the second time that day, felt bad for saying something that made Buffy look sad. "Sorry Buffy, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do, Dawn. It's not like I expected it to be 'alive' or something. I don't know what I expected, it's only that it shouldn't have survived at all, nothing should have, nothing did, but..."

"If it did, then there's hope?"

Buffy turned to look at Dawn. Was that what she was looking for? Hope? Stupid, waste-of-time, painful, stupid, hope?

"No, there's no hope, Dawn, no hope," she turned around so Dawn didn't see her eyes tear up. She was so angry with herself. What was she doing, coming all the way to Chicago on a wild goose chase?

"Well," Donald said, "guess that's it for Harold's things, I'm really sorry we couldn't find what you were looking for."

Buffy shrugged, resigned to the hopelessness of it.

"Look, if you find it, or anything related to Sunnydale, could you give Elizabeth or me a call?" Dawn asked, taking over, "here's our emails."

"Sure, I'll make sure to do that if it shows up. And you never know, it certainly might just do that, this is far from a perfect system, just the best one we've been able to implement," Donald said, showing them out.

It was noon as they stood outside the museum. Neither had much interest in actually seeing the actual museum after spending 2 hours digging through someone's office stuff. And there hadn't been a thing there about Sunnydale at all. Looked like he hadn't been at that office in ages.

"What time do we have to check in for the flight?" Dawn asked.

"4:00pm-ish, if we leave about 3:00pm-ish, we'll get there in plenty of time," Buffy said.

"I'd say that gives us plenty of time to shop, what say you?" Dawn asked, hopefully.

"I'd say, fuck yes to that!" Buffy said, in the overly cheery voice of the hopeless.

And so, they went back to the Magnificent Mile, (after making a short stop for lunch at the Italian Village downtown, and a quick zoom up to the top of the Sears Tower) and ran up their father's credit card bills at Sax Fifth Avenue, Banana Republic, and Prada on the Mile.

Buffy looked at the lights of L.A. as the plane started descending. They’d only talked a bit on the way back, with one or the other of them napping part of the time.

"You know, you never told me why you decided to change your name," Dawn said, looking at Buffy, who had only told her a few months ago.

Turning away from the lights of L.A, Buffy looked at Dawn, "I don’t suppose that you’d believe me if I told you it was a favorite author of mine," she replied.

Dawn looked at Buffy and saw the abiding sadness in her sister’s eyes, the sorrow and loss that Buffy had tried to mask for over four years. Whether it was that she was actually a part of Buffy, made from her when the monks had made her human, or because she was her sister, at that moment she knew.

Dawn just nodded at her, and at that moment, Buffy knew that she understood. Tears sprang from her tired eyes, unbidden. Dawn took her hand and they stayed that way until the plane came to a stop.

CHAPTER 17 - THE CLAUSE

FLASHBACK

MAY 21, 2003

"Angel, you're back!" Lilah said, looking surprised, as she walked into his office.

"Why wouldn't I be back, Lilah?" he asked her, suddenly suspicious.

"Thought you were going to be helping the slayer, that's all," she said, backing toward the door.

"No, that's not all, what is it?"

"Well, it's just..."

"Just what, Lilah?" Angel said, smiling, although his eyes were anything but.

"Nevermind, where's the amulet, Angel?" she asked, hand out.

"I gave it to Buffy, what did you think I did with it?" he asked.

"Well, we thought you were going to use it to help her. Didn't the dossier make that clear, that it was to be worn by a champion, but more than human?"

"Well, yeah it did, but Buffy didn't want me there...had someone else in mind, I guess," he said darkly.

"Well, guess that's too bad then," Lilah said.

"How do you figure? Since the world hasn't ended, I imagine that it worked pretty well for all of us."

"Well, for some of us," Lilah said, "not all of us."

Angel cleared the distance between them in lightening speed, "Whatever do you mean Lilah? And you'd better tell me the truth, or I may just have to tear your head off your neck once again," he hissed at her.

"Easy big guy, I'll tell you. You just gave away your chance to shanshu, that's all. Sure it will come again. Maybe in another couple of hundred years," she said, grinning.

"What the hell are you talking about? The prophecy? What's that got to do with...?"

"Ah....now you're seeing the big picture!" Lilah said, seeing Angel’s eyes get big, "too bad you didn't see it earlier, never took you for someone especially slow, but then again, you vampires..."

Angel was now squeezing Lilah's voice box as tight as he could, "You're going to tell me what this is about, or I swear I will burn down this whole place with you in it," he said, releasing her.

Gasping for air, she stumbled to the intercom, "Bring in the Shanshu Prophecy file to Mr. Angel's office," she said.

"Here," she said, throwing it at him, after a lackey brought it in, "maybe you should have read the first one I gave you."

There in black and white (and probably red, too) was the whole story about the amulet and the prophecy. Angel was paler than normal as he read it, a broodier expression than he normally wore, creased his brow.

"So, what you're telling me, is that had I helped close the Hellmouth, that I would be standing here today all human?"

"That's what it says," Lilah nodded, "we were prepared to intercede, to, er, speed things up, and to do away with a certain clause that's in there. For you. Figured you'd earned it.

"Damn right I earned it after almost 300 years!" Angel said, angrily, still reading.

All of a sudden, he burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Doesn't matter, I can't lose," he said, grinning, "There will always be another apocalpse I can wait for, when this shanshu ends abruptly."

"Oh, I see you read the catch..." Lilah said.

"Yeah, it's so funny, it's beautiful! I can hardly wait to watch this! Hell, I'm going to love this," he said, sitting back in his big swivel chair, thinking of the possibility, or rather, the impossibility, "I wanna see how it ends!"

CHAPTER 18 - LETTING FRIENDS BACK IN

Buffy returned home and to her new job at Santa Ysabel Montessori, after finishing up her two-week training course. She taught 4th and 5th graders in a small, self-contained classroom. All specials were off campus, with generous learning trips to local museums, art galleries, zoos, and nature centers, and the local YMCA for gym. All in all, it was a good place to work, with less stress of a big, public school, and more leeway for individual teaching and learning.

She tried to put the amulet, that is, the missing amulet, out of her mind.

It was around Valentines' Day that following winter, always a particularly hard time for Buffy, that she awoke trembling, heart pounding. She had stopped having either dreams or nightmares of Spike after a couple of years, so she was painfully aware that this was not just out of the ordinary, it was something much more.

She had lost contact with Willow over the past couple of years, but that following evening, after endless pacing and endless debating with herself, that she decided to try the old number. After about 10 rings, a groggy Willow answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Will?"

"Buffy? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry if I woke you?"

"That's alright. What's up? Is something wrong?" asked Willow immediately.

"No, just calling to see how you were," Buffy hedged.

"Buffy, I haven't heard from you in almost 2 years, and all of a sudden you're calling me in the middle of the night to find out how I am?" Willow laughed.

In the background she could hear Willow telling Kennedy, "Just an old friend, hon, go back to sleep."

"I'm sorry...I shouldn't have called, sorry..."

"Wait," Willow said, taking the phone into the living room, so as to not disturb Kennedy, "Buffy! I'm glad to hear from you, no matter why you called! I know that you've been busy with school and all that. You graduated, right?"

"Yeah, last May."

"That's great, Buffy! Did you go to commencement?"

"Yeah, Dawn and my dad were there. I even have a job and everything," she said, and went on to tell her friend a little bit about her new position.

"That's great Buffy, I'm proud of you. I always knew you could do it," Willow gushed, "you just never had the time before.

"Yeah," Buffy said, "that was it. No time."

"Yeah," Willow said, then paused.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you happy?"

Buffy paused, not knowing quite how to answer that.

"I'm happy to not be fighting an apocalypse every other day, if that's what you mean. I'm happy to have been given a chance to..." she paused remembering who gave her the chance. "I guess I'm not complaining."

"Oh...I see," Willow said, not sure how much she should pry, now that they weren't as close as they once were.

"Willow?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to know something. It's about the amulet...the one that Spike..." Buffy swallowed, trying hard not to lose it just by saying his name, "the one that Spike wore. There was an archaeology professor who was digging in Sunnydale, and he found it."

"Holy shit!" Willow said, using a word Buffy had never heard her say. "He did? It survived?"

"That's about what I said when I saw a picture of it in a display case at school last summer."

Buffy went on to tell Willow how her and Dawn had gone to Chicago, but that they hadn't been able to locate it at either his apartment or the museum.

"When Angel brought it to me," Buffy explained, "he thought he was going to be the one to wear it. He said his sources told him it had purifying or cleansing power or something. What I want to know is how it survived...when Spike....didn't. I mean, Willow, those last minutes, Spike was channeling all that light, all that energy, right through that amulet. It was him and he was it, so what does that mean? Is it just some useless bauble now? Is there some...." she couldn't finish.

"Some connection to him?" Willow asked, gently.

"Yeah."

"Why now?"

"Huh?" Buffy asked.

"Why didn't you call last summer, when you found out about it?" Willow asked.

"I don't know, just wanted to check it out for myself first, I guess. Afterward, I tried, have been trying to put it out of my mind again...you know, get on with my life, new job and all that. I mean, I just went through 5 years of schooling in about 4 years, heck, I even have classes toward my masters," she paused. "But lately, more and more, I'm feeling something...I don't exactly know what, then last night...I had this dream about Spike, it was so real. Willow, I haven't dreamed of him or seen his face in my dreams in more than two years, and last night was like he was in the same space as me, he was..." she stopped.

"He was what Buffy?"

"Real, Willow. He was real."

"You mean, you felt he was real? " Willow asking for clarification."

"No, Willow. He was real. But, not yet…I can't describe it," Buffy said, anguished.

"I don't know either, but I believe you if you say it’s so. I'll get right on it, I promise, Buffy, if there's something to this, I'll find it out for you."

"Thanks, Willow. Oh, can you not mention this to anyone?"

"You mean Giles? Wasn't going to, anyway. Him and I haven't seen eye to eye for a while."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said.

"I'm not, I just don't think that through all this, that Giles has learned his lesson in how to handle the new slayers. Think he’s trying to control them in ways he never could control you, hoping to keep them safe. It’s making them rebel and when they do, sometimes it puts them into dangerous situations, just to spite him. He should lay off a little."

Buffy was quiet for a minute, "Kinda ruined that Slayer/Watcher expectation of his, didn’t I? I sorta thought he’d been proud of me, back when…"

"He was, he is…just you were…different than these girls are. He’s just afraid. He’s older now, too, Buffy. Just think he’s less willing to take chances than he was before."

"You mean the ones I forced on him, don’t you?"

"Tomatoes, Tamatoes, same diff Buffy, we all just worked together as a certain kind of dynamic, that’s all. Your personality, Giles’, ours…"

"Yeah, dynamic. That was us," Buffy replied, lost in her own memories of all the years they’d spent together, growing up and fighting demons. One big, happy family.

They spent a few more minutes talking about Xander, his new family, Anya, and Andrew.

"Well, I'll let you go then," Buffy said, "say hello to Kennedy for me, but don't let on about..."

"I will and I won't," Willow said. "Oh, and Buffy? Could you send me a copy of the newspaper clipping that you first saw the amulet in?" she asked.

"Yeah, I’ll fax it to you right now, ok? What’s your fax number? Okay, got it."

"Okay, talk to you as soon as I find something out!"

"See ya!" Buffy said, hanging up.

She closed her eyes, as she leaned back on the couch, feeling better than she had in a while. She'd been separate and apart from her friends for a long time now. Maybe it was time to let some of them back in.

Willow had called Buffy back almost immediately after receiving the fax from her.

"Buffy?"

That was quick.

"Willow?"

"Yeah, it’s me!" Willow said, excitedly. "Did you see who the article was written by?"

"I dunno, some guy, didn't recognize his name," Buffy had replied.

"Andrew Wells," Willow said slowly, letting it sink in.

"So?"

"Tucker Wells was in my Algebra class, Tucker! Andrew's brother!"

"You mean, that's our Andrew?" Buffy finally sputtered.

"Yes, our Andrew!" Willow said, then asked, "did Andrew know anything about the amulet?"

"I don't think so, he never saw it, but he was living with us afterward, it may have been mentioned by one, hell, by any of the potentials, er, I mean slayers. They all saw what happened with it," Buffy said, remembering herself.

"But would he have recognized it?" Willow asked, "I mean it looks just like you said, an old, sort of gaudy necklace."

"I don’t know, but that’s possible…that he didn’t know what it is he was looking at," Buffy said, trying to think of the possibilities, "with Andrew, who knows?"

"So why didn't he call any of us anyway? I mean here you are doing a story on what was once all of our homes, wouldn’t ya think…?" Willow asked.

"I don't know," Buffy answered, "maybe he tried, I've been...well, I'm not exactly listed in the local phone directory. Dawn's off in school, I don't think he knew Hank's first name and there's got to be thousands of Summers in Southern California. You and Giles are back in England. Wait, did he have anybody's email address? You'd think he would've."

"I don't think I exchanged emails with him, did you?"

"No, I know I didn't. Didn't even think about it," Buffy said.

"Something else has been bothering me, too," Willow said.

"What's that?"

"I don't know, it may be nothing. But the paper he works for, I did a search them and their parent company is this firm in L.A. called Wolfram & Hart," Willow said.

"So?"

"Something about that name keeps nagging at me, something I almost remember having heard, but for the life of me, I can't remember where, but I'll keep on working on it and let you know, okay?"

"Okay, Will," Buffy said.

"Bye, Willow."

"Bye, Buffy, talk to you soon."

CHAPTER 20 - Angel & Andrew

July 5, 2007 - Offices of Wolfram & Hart

"Ah, you've already seen it?" Lilah asked, as she walked into Angel's office.

"Yeah, I'm looking at it," Angel said, as he laid the paper down, "now how do we get it back?"

"I'm working on it," she said.

"Well do it!" Angel yelled.

"Wouldn’t be nervous would you Angel? Lilah taunted Angel. "about the recipient of the Shanshu? Don’t you want to give him a chance, now? Thought you said it would be fun to watch?"

"Changed my mind, better that he be right here with us for the two years, wouldn’t you think?"

"I don’t know Angel, if you interfere with the prophecy, might not ever be able to shanshu yourself, you know. Not exactly a champion sort of thing to do," she teased.

"I’m not worried about that much anymore, Lilah," he said, coming up and grabbing her roughly around the waist, "you like me just the way I am, don’t you?" he asked, as he stuck his tongue down her throat. "You don’t need me human, now do you?"

"No, Angel, I don’t…besides, wouldn’t be as much fun now, would it?" Lilah said.

"So why worry then?" she pressed, "about the shanshu?"

"It’s all about history, Lilah, dear. Mine, his. That and I gotta keep Buffy from knowing about this."

"Oh, Buffy," said Lilah, with scorn in her voice, "your one and only true love?"

"That’s what I tell all the girls, Lilah, even you!" Angel said, kissing her again.

He released her abruptly and asked, "Who's this Andrew Wells? He works for us?"

"Yeah, got him before he was done with college, got a good nose for digging up things," Lilah said.

"Why don't we bring him in and have a little talk with him," Angel said.

"Sure," Lilah said, "I’ll get on it."

"Well, do it! And fast, I wanna have a little talk with him!" Angel said.

June 29, 2007 - Apartment of Andrew Wells & John Franklin

To: bsummers@hotmail.com

From: awells@aol.com

Dear Buffy, how have you been? I’m out of school, well, sort of quit, because I got this fab job working for The National Sun. This is why I’m emailing you, tomorrow I’m set to cover a story about this archaeology professor who’s been digging at the Sunnydale crater. I’m to take my photographer and go cover this story in 2 days. They supposedly have uncovered a bunch of stuff from there. Thought you might like to be present. I’ll tell them you’re my assistant if you come along. Just thought you might like to know.

How is everyone? I haven’t talked to anyone except Xander in the past year.

Let me know if you want to come.

Your friend,

Andrew

Andrew pressed send.

"Hey Andy, wanna go out tonight?" asked John, his roommate.

"Sure, where to?" Andrew asked.

"Heard there’s a new gay bar in Santa Monica, that…wait until you hear this…has Star Wars décor!"

"Wow! That sounds awesome, let me just get my jacket…"

July 7, 2007 - Offices of Wolfram & Hart

11:00am

"You can go right in Mr. Wells. Mr. Angel is waiting for you," said the receptionist.

Andrew opened the massive oak door to a huge office that was bright with sunlight coming from a wall of floor to ceiling glass.

"Mr. Angel?"

"Mr. Wells! Come right in!" Angel said, standing up.

"Thank you, and let me just say what a lovely office this is, it’s just splendid!" Andrew gushed.

"Thank you," Angel said, "why don’t you have a seat," he said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk.

Andrew sat down and the cushion seemed to sink about 8 inches. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable, especially with Angel sitting about a foot higher than he was.

"Do you know why I’ve called you in?" Angel asked, smiling at him.

Andrew shook his head.

"I’ve called you in to talk to you about the article you wrote on the Sunnydale dig."

"Oh," Andrew said, a very, very slight warning bell going off in his brain.

"I used to live in Sunnydale," Angel said, "did you know that?"

Andrew shook his head, "No, I didn’t know," he answered.

"How about you? I read on your application that you went to Sunnydale High School. Bet we know some people in common," Angel said.

"Like who?" Andrew asked.

"Well, lets see, there was Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris, Rupert Giles, there was also that computer teacher…what was her name? Oh yeah, Jenny Calender. Let’s see, who else? Oh, yeah! Buffy Summers. Did you know her, Andrew? Seems like everyone in Sunnydale knew Buffy, she was real popular. Oh, also, guy named Spike," Angel said the last part off-handedly, as if he’d just remembered him.

Andrew was trying to keep his face neutral as Angel recited the names to him, (something he learned while taking courses to become a reporter, keep the emotions in check!) but it was really hard. He wondered if he’d given it away when Angel had first mentioned Willow.

Hadn’t Buffy mentioned Angel? Hadn’t Spike? He thought he’d try to play along a bit and try to find out what Angel wanted.

"Oh, Willow Rosenberg, yeah, I knew her. She was in a class with my brother Tucker. She came to our house once to tutor him in Algrebra, I seem to remember."

Angel nodded, and Andrew went on.

"Hmmm…Xander Harris? Think he hung out with Willow, maybe was on the swim team? And of course, I knew Mr. Giles and Miss Calender, until she died, that is. Buffy Summers, knew who she was, but we never hung in the same circles. And a guy named Spike? Was that a nickname? Do you know his last name?"

Angel shook his head.

"No, don’t think I remember him at all."

That seemed to satisfy Angel.

"I see. Let me ask you something else, Andrew."

Angel asked Andrew about the professor who was doing the dig, how the dig was going, what had been found, and some other questions.

"Well, I want to thank you for coming in and for you contribution to the newspaper. Your stories are very good."

"Why thank you," said Andrew, rising from the sunken in chair.

"I’m sure we’ll talk again," Angel said, putting his hand out.

"Oh, that would be great, Mr. Angel," Andrew said, as he shook it.

As he walked out of the building, he let out a breath. Angel’s cool hand had confirmed his suspicion about one thing. Angel was a vampire. After all, he hadn’t rode all the way to the mission up north with his arms around Spike’s waist (and a nice waist it had been, too!) to not remember the cool feel to it, even through his jacket.

July 7, 2007 - Apartment of Andrew Wells and John Franklin

1:30pm

To: bsummer@hotmail.com

From: awells@aol.com

Dear Buffy,

I thought you might want to know that today I was called into the office of a Mr. Angel at Wolfram & Hart (the parent company to my newspaper) to ask about the Sunnydale dig.

Besides wanting to know all about the dig and the professor, he wanted to know if I knew any of you guys. Or Spike.

I sort of remember you guys mentioning him once in a while. Wasn’t sure that he was the one. In any case, I told him that Willow used to tutor my brother Tucker, but that I didn’t know any of you. Or Spike.

One more thing, Angel is a vampire. In case you didn’t know, but you probably do. The whole thing kinda gave my ‘spidey’ senses a work out. Don’t know what he wanted, but thought you should know. Please advise.

Your friend,

Andrew

July 7, 2003 - Offices of Wolfram & Hart

1:00pm

"So, did Mr. Wells enlighten you?" Lilah asked.

"No, he didn’t seem to know anything, but then he seemed a bit dumb, or a lot dumb, or he was playing dumb. I couldn’t tell."

"What do you want to do?"

"Let’s just keep someone on his tail for a while," Angel said.

"Done," Lilah said, as she picked up the phone.

CHAPTER 21 - A MISTAKE IS MADE

Mail Sorting Dept.

"Hey, Joe, where does this go?" Charlie asked, handing him a box.

"Hmmm? Let me see, Professor Lipton, think his office is being renovated, let’s find where they put his stuff. Okay, got it," he said, handing the box back with the section on it.

"Section 405, gotcha," he said, putting it into retired Prof. H. Lickman’s section.

CHAPTER 22 - THE AMULET & THE SHANSHU PROPHECY

The months passed and although Buffy and Willow talked often and emailed, there was still no news on the amulet or anything to do with it.

Buffy had called Donald Johanson a few times, but he'd still not been able to track it down, and truth be told, she didn't think he had tried much after her and Dawn had been to The Field Museum last August.

The dreams stopped, and she tried to reason with herself that they’d only been that, dreams.

"Need to get on with my life," she said to herself, then laughed, "thought that's what you were doing!"

The school year ended in late May, and her contract was renewed for the following year.

It had been in early June, that she’d started having dreams again. Only these were different from the ones the past winter, where Spike 'was real, but not yet,' these dreams were happening now, they were imminent, and each and every time he only spoke one thing to her, "Help me!"

"How Spike? Tell me baby, please!" she’d implore him, before waking once again in a cold sweat, tears running down her face.

Tonight had been no different. Shaking with fear for him, she stood up, and went to the bathroom to get a glass of water, "Tell me what to do, Spike, please! Tell me!" she said to her own image in the mirror.

Just then the phone rang. Buffy jumped, dropping the glass in the sink, shattering it.

"Hello?" Buffy said, her voice shaky.

"Buffy? It's Willow."

"Willow! I’m so glad it’s you!" she said, relieved, as she rushed on, "the dreams, Willow, they’re back, only this time…"

"What?" Willow asked, anxiously, knowing by Buffy’s tone, it was something serious.

"It’s Spike, Willow, he’s been coming to me every night for more than a week," Buffy said.

"What does he want?" Willow asked.

"Help. Every night he says, ‘Help me,’ every night. I think I’m losing my mind, Willow!"

"No, you may not be, listen Buffy are you sitting down? If not, you’d better!" Willow said.

"You got some news?" Buffy said, sitting on the side of the bed.

"Yeah, big news, Buffy, it's about the prophecy!"

"What prophecy?"

"The amulet!"

"Amulet? Prophecy? What?"

"Okay, I got to calm down and be clear, I just found this out and I'm so excited, I..."

"Willow! Please! Tell me!"

"I hacked into the computers at Wolfram and Hart, that's where Angel Investigations is located now," she said letting it sink in.

"So?"

"Wolfram and Hart! They're the ones that brought back Darla. Remember when I told you about Andrew working for The National Sun? That they were owned by Wolfram and Hart? And that I thought it sounded familiar?"

"I remember, what of it?" Buffy asked.

"Well, I had heard of them when I was in L.A., restoring Angel’s soul a few weeks before…you know…when I brought Faith back. Wesley and Fred were telling me how Wolfram and Hart had been destroyed by The Beast and how all these evil lawyers were in cahoots with the demons and everything. Now it seems like they’re back in business."

"And Angel...he's...there?" she asked, trying to take it all in.

"Yes. Listen Buffy, I hacked into their computer and they've got this freakin' amazing demon, mystical, magic, and everything else data base, the largest I've ever seen, I think it's the largest one that's ever existed. It makes Giles' research library look like it would fit on the head of a pin."

"And?"

"And when I hacked in to look up the amulet, its information was totally cross-referenced with that of the prophecy," Willow said triumphantly.

"What prophecy?" Buffy asked, exasperated.

"The Shanshu Prophecy," Willow said.

"The who shoe prophecy?" Buffy asked.

"Shanshu."

"And what does that have to do with the amulet? What’s a shanshu prophecy?"

"Well, the prophecy states that, ‘A vampire with a soul will "shanshu" once he completes his destiny, he will become human, that is his reward. That he has to survive numerous challenges in the forms of plagues, an apocalyptic battle, and several evils.’ And here’s where you really need to be sitting for this - it states that the "shanshu" will take place five years after these battles have taken place. And that the amulet will bring forth the shanshu, in other words, the vampire-turned human. THE AMULET! Did you hear that Buffy?" Willow asked.

"Buffy? Buffy? Are you there?"

Buffy stood up, then sat right back down, her mouth making movements without any sound.

"Will?"

"Yeah Buffy?"

"Read that again, ok?"

Willow repeated what she’d just read.

"Does that mean?"

"I think so…"

"Say it Will, I can’t, I just can’t…does it mean…Spike?"

"I think so, Buffy. It means Spike might, no, probably is going to shanshu, is the shanshu, not quite sure if it’s a verb or a noun, or both.

"Five years?"

"Yeah, that would mean this coming May…"

"Oh God! " Buffy said, as she once again stood up, then sat back down.

"Buffy? What?" Willow asked.

"Not next May, this ‘past’ May, last month! That’s why I’ve been having these dreams Willow! He’s alive somewhere. Oh my God! He’s alive," she said, crying tears of joy, then sobered up immediately, "he’s alive, and he needs my help!"

CHAPTER 23 - HIS ESSENCE