***********************************

being to timelessness as it’s to time

love did no more begin than love will end

***********************************

~~~~~ Spike passes by the doorway of the atrium, an unconscious Drusilla in his arms. He stops to watch as Buffy backs up, weaponless, against the wall. Angelus slowly advances on her, his sword in his hands. "God, he’s gonna kill her," Spike says to himself. He shrugs and heads for his car, but pauses to look down at Drusilla’s still face. "But still, I suppose I do owe her a debt, eh princess? Now that I’ve got you back and all." Turning around, he walks back to the atrium and peers into the door. Buffy is still against the wall, her eyes closed. Angelus stands before her, playing with his sword and toying with her.

"Now that’s everything, huh? No weapons. No friends. No hope. Take all that away, and what’s left?"

He draws the sword back and thrusts it at her face. Spike starts to call out to him, to distract him, but stops as he realizes what’s about to happen.

Buffy snaps her eyes open and claps the blade of the sword between her palms, an inch away from her face. "Me," she says forcefully, and shoves the hilt of the sword into Angelus’ face.~~~~~~~~~~

*********************************

"Death is young

life wears velour trousers

life totters, life had a beard"…

But I think I see someone else

There is a lady, whose name is Afterwards

She is sitting beside a young death, is slender;

Likes flowers

*********************************

*******************************

Where is my head, where are my bones?
Why are my days so far from home?
Where is my head?  Where are my bones?
Can you save me from myself,

Can you save me from myself?

*******************************

*********************************

When you’re not here it’s hard to pretend

It’s all alright again

When you’re not here love, it’s hard to pretend

It’s all alright

*********************************

Chapter 2.

~Includes excerpts by Rod McKuen, Third Eye Blind and Adrienne Rich.

**********

Buffy was cold. Her whole body hurt, and the ground beneath her smelled of urine and blood. For what seemed like an eternity, that was all she knew. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings. The mansion. Angel’s mansion, but colder and darker then she remembered it. The cold was what disoriented her most. Southern California rarely was cold enough for snow to fall, yet dustings of snow had blown inside through the broken windows. Angel would have had a fire going, Buffy thought, remembering gradually that he lived in L.A. now. It was too dark for it to be day, yet the sky bore a light gray tint, unlike any night she’d ever known. What had happened to her? Why was she in Angel’s mansion? And--- and why was she naked?

Wrapping herself in a filthy blanket, she left the mansion and walked slowly through the cemetery towards her house. The streets were empty of humans and demons alike. Looking up, she noticed that there were no stars, no moon, in the sky. The odd color of gray that dimly light the night reminded Buffy of corpses and vamp dust.

"This," Buffy said, "has got to be a dream. Giles and Spike should be by any minute, wearing tweed and swinging like little boys. Cheese Guy? Where are you?" But she knew instinctively that it was no dream. This was reality. And it was way too creepy, even for the Hellmouth. She should be seeing people, cars, but there was nothing, not even a squirrel.

A rusty, double-decker bus sped up the street and squealed to a stop beside her. A blackened window was quickly rolled down to reveal a girl who looked just like Dawn. "Get in!" she said quietly to Buffy, her eyes darting around fearfully. "Hurry!"

Buffy stared at her in confusion. "What? Did Giles send you? And what’s with the fun-bus?"

A look of baffled relief passed over the girl’s face, and she called over her shoulder into the back of the van. "Ripper? This girl knows you. Why don’t you take your shift now?"

"Julie, I drove only an hour ago. I’ve not slept since Thursday. If I crash this bus, we’ll all be sitting ducks for any vamp or---"

"Giles!" Buffy called, opening the driver’s door and peeking around the girl. "What the hell is going on?"

Giles stared at Buffy, his mouth and eyes wide open. He didn’t move. He couldn’t speak. Thinking was out of the question.

"Giles?" Buffy asked, "Giles, you’re scaring me. What’s happening? Who is this girl? And why did she call you Ripper?"

Forcing himself back to life, Giles removed his glasses and wiping them habitually. He shook his head with disbelief. "Oh God, Buffy. You--- it’s really you?"

"Uhm--- yes? 100% Buffy here. What’s wrong with you? Did Glory--- what did she do? Did she brain suck you?" Buffy asked, and grabbed Julie’s arm. "Was he brain sucked?"
 

"No!" Giles said, "No, not Glory. I’m--- my brain’s fine." He grabbed Buffy by her shoulders, and examined her before pulling her into a hug. "And you, Buffy. You’re fine too. Where on Earth have you been?"

Her head was buried in Giles’ neck, and she let herself close her eyes and rest a moment there. ‘Where on Earth have you been, Buffy’ she thought. Then the images flooded her mind: beating Glory, jumping into the portal, watching in the strange, blue water with the Woman as Dawn jumped futilely from the tower, Spike died heroically, and Giles looked on as his world ended. She remembered selling her soul to buy back her gift, remembered kissing the Orb and watching as it dissolved into the water. She gasped, and clung to Giles as she remembered returning to life.

"Giles. Oh God. Not on Earth. I think- I think I was dead."

**********

*************************

Loving is the only sure road

Out of darkness.

*************************

"Drink this, Buffy. It’ll warm you," Giles said, folding Buffy’s hands around a cup of tea. She took it gratefully and sank back against the futon that was folded into a chair in the far corner of the bar. Looking around at the seedy place, Buffy couldn’t understand why Giles had brought her here. She’d asked him to take her home, but he’d refused without explanation.

"Where’s Dawn?" Buffy asked quietly. The Woman had returned her to life, had let her take her gift back. That meant Dawn would still be alive, and the Scoobies too. "Willow? Xander?"

Giles flinched, and removed his glasses silently before shaking his head once. No.

A thrill of fear pulsed through her. "Anya? Tara?" Giles only shook his head again. Her mind whirling with disbelief. "Spike?" she whispered, closing her eyes. Sleep, she thought. If I fall asleep, I’ll stop feeling this awful pain.

Giles brightened slightly. "Spike is alive- well, that is to say, Spike is still around," he said, but Buffy was already asleep.

Dear God, Giles thought, tucking a blanket around Buffy snugly. Now what? How could he even begin to explain to her that the only people she’d loved who were still alive were. . . well, there was only him. And Spike. The irony never failed to make Giles nauseated. Buffy wouldn’t mind too much, Giles remembered, she’d become friends with Spike in the weeks before her--- her death. But that’d been more then twenty years ago. She’d come back thinking that she could still save Dawn, having no idea that the Powers had brought her into the future rather then the past. The disappointment, the disorientation, would be terrible. Perhaps… perhaps the shock would even take her away from him again. And away from the world, which needed her more now then it ever had before.

"Pull yourself together, man," Giles muttered to himself. "Think! How to help Buffy, how to help---"

He smacked himself in the forehead sharply. "Of course. Familiarity." He stood and walked into the main part of the bar. Spike sat on his usual bar stool, passed out over the counter. Julie stood beside him, eying his half- finished drink with curiosity. "Julie! Go get the bus, and bring it around front. When Buffy wakes up, she’s going home."

Giles walked over to Spike and briskly pushed him to the floor. Spike didn’t wake, but began to snore. Reaching for a pitcher behind the bar, Giles began filling it with water. He tossed it on Spike, ignoring the vampire’s shout of anger. "Wake up Spike. There’s--- news."

**********

***********************************************

Then you come swimming into view

And I’m hanging on your words like I always used to do

The words they use so lightly, I only feel for you

***********************************************

"Bloody amazing," Spike said softly, standing with Giles over Buffy’s sleeping form. "She’s back, then."

"It appears so, yes. I could scarcely believe it myself when I saw her."

Spike angled himself away from Giles; Buffy was all he could see. Her golden hair- God, how he’d wanted to touch her hair!- her elegant nose, her small forehead- her, for the first time in so long. Emotions battled within him. This was not how he’d thought her homecoming would begin. No, not even close. A tame entrance back into his life was out of character for Buffy. She’d always been more of a ‘burst through a door and scare the hell out of him’ kinda girl. But still---

"She’s the same as before, Giles. She’s exactly the same. How is that even possible?" Spike asked, the quaver in his voice betrayed his wooden face.

"Well, Spike, I’m pretty much the same too, you know, outwardly at least," Giles said mildly, watching the vampire as he sat beside Buffy. "Appearances, as they say, are often deceiving."

"Yah, I suppose you’re still ‘pretty much the same’, mate. For a vampire! Didn’t she notice that you’re not mortal?" Spike spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving Buffy’s face. The same graceful bones, the same skin- everything about her called to Spike, sang to him. He felt awake again, for the first time in two decades. A heartbeat of time, to an immortal. But so much longer then any of the decades he’d lived through before she’d left.

Died. Before she’d died, he corrected himself. How odd, to be grateful that she’d only been dead. No Slayer had ever been called to take Buffy’s place, so Spike had never known if she was truly dead, or if she’d simply abandoned them all. Believing her to be that inhuman was impossible for him, but it was hard to understand what exactly had occurred. He’d never been able to remember when it had been that he’d seen her last. The pain of that day caused him to remember very, very little. One minute, he’d been falling from the tower, having failed to keep his promise. The next thing he knew, he was crawling out of the approaching sunlight, his body broken and his mind confused. But it wasn’t really sunlight, he remembered, it was light from the Hellmouth. He’d never seen sunlight again, not since that day.

He wandered around town for days, hoping to find anyone alive. Finding Buffy had been his main goal, of course, but after a few weeks he would have been glad to find any of them, even the whelp. He never had given up, though many times he’d wanted to. Years passed before he’d come across Giles. Spike shuddered, remembering the state the Watcher had been in. It was hard to figure, a Watcher turned into the very demon he’d fought against. Not that it had never happened before, just that the Watchers were usually staked right away by their Slayer, or by the Council if she was dead as well. Spike had been prepared to stake Giles when he’d found him, but he’d been amazed to find that Giles had cast a spell on himself- he’d regained his soul without help, a possibility Spike had never heard of before.

Spike, however, was still among the soulless. Fighting to protect Buffy’s town, Buffy’s home, and Buffy’s Watcher was much easier when he could still go undercover from time to time. And so, he lived each day with the single minded mission of holding her place in life until she could come back for it. After a few years, he realized that he’d begun to consider Buffy’s town his town, her home his home. Perhaps calling her Watcher his would be a bit of a stretch, but not much of one.

Spike lightly touched Buffy’s hair where it spilled over the edge of the futon, "The Slayer’s back now," he said. his voice gritty with emotion. Tears fell down his face unchecked. She was back. She was back, and he could feel again, after so long of feeling nothing but coldness.

Behind Spike’s back, Giles nodded. "And it’s a good thing. We need her. Shall we wake her, you think?"

Wiping his face, Spike shook his head. "She should sleep while she can. You know she’ll need all her strength soon enough."

"I’m awake, guys," Buffy said, opening her eyes and stretching. "You are the loudest talkers, the both of you. I don’t remember that before. Well, maybe you Spike. Not loud words, just a lot of them. And usually annoying."

Buffy looked at Spike’s stunned expression, noting the dampness lingering on his cheeks. "Hey," she said, "What’s up with you? No snappy come-back?"

Spike stared at her silently, his eyes icy and intense as they bore into her own. "No," he said stiffly. "No. Snappy. Come-back."

Giles rushed forward and sat beside her. "Buffy--- things are--- well, things are different now. There’s much I need to tell you."

Buffy frowned at Giles. "What," she asked bluntly.

"Well--- umm--- ah---" Giles fumbled with his glasses, "It’s just that it’s a--- complex matter--- of great seriousness, and--- you’ve been through so much, you might like to rest up a bit more--- and I ahh---".

"Everyone’s dead," Spike interrupted, his voice hard.

Buffy gazed at him stoically. "I know that much."

"No," Spike said with impatience, "Everyone is dead. Including Watcher-boy there. Giles is a vampire. But, no worries. You love vamps like him."

"I’ve got a soul, Buffy, it’s alright," Giles broke in, smiling reassuringly.

Buffy gaped at him. "Uh-huh?" she said, her eyes huge.

"Little sis is dead, Slayer. The Wiccans, the whelp, demon girl… they’re all dead. I’m still as dead as I was, no more or less. All those humans you knew in LA are dead, too. This bar is the headquarters for the new Council of Watchers, of which there are exactly two members, and you’re looking at them. Oh, and we have Julie, but she’s more of a pain in the ass then a member. The Watchers were some of the first mortals taken down after the Hellmouth--- well, you know about the Hellmouth. It opened, and it let out some of the more powerful hell Gods. They liked to target any mortals who tried to stop them. Not a big loss there, the Councilmen were right wankers."

"Anyhow," Spike took a deep breath and dove back in, "It’s also been twenty years and seven months since you died. Twenty years, seven months, four days, and," he checked his watch, "somewhere around an hour and a half."

Her face frozen in shock, Buffy nodded dumbly. "Uh-huh," she repeated, covering her eyes with her shaking hands. "Oh God." Suddenly full of nervous energy, she jumped up and began to pace. "Everyone’s dead," she whispered, then shook herself out of grief briskly. There would be time for that later. "Giles is a vamp."

"With a soul," Giles added helpfully, watching her.

"With a soul," Buffy said. "The Council members are all dead. The Council of Watchers now works out of a bar and consists of two vampires. And a kid."

"Oh, Julie’s part demon too," Spike countered, "Not a vamp, though."

"Ah ha. Two vamps and a half breed kid," Buffy said slowly, her mind spinning. "And it’s been more then twenty years? How is that even possible? The Woman--- the Powers--- I paid for a second chance! They cheated me! I was suppose to stop all this from happening!"

Spike crossed the room to her in three, swift steps. "Here, love, sit down," he said softly, leading her to the futon and sitting beside her. Buffy stared straight ahead, trying to make sense of what had happened. Her body shivered furiously, and Spike wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his solidness with blind gratitude. He still wore his duster. And, she noticed, he still smelled of tobacco and alcohol.

"Listen, Slayer," he paused, enjoying the sound of the word he’d not heard spoken in decades. "Slayer. Look, I don’t know anything about these Powers, or any Woman, or what have you. I’m sorry things didn’t go as you thought that they would. You--- you must know, I couldn’t kept my promise. That one, that bloody promise I made to you the night you--- the night you died. I did the best I could, and I failed. Nibblet died. She jumped into that bloody portal, and never came out. And it closed. If the chance you bought back caused the portal to close, then you succeeded. The day was saved, once again. Only this time, it cost us two Summer’s women. And then, everyone else was gone too. The Hellmouth opened the next day, and---" he broke off, struggling to keep the memories of those early days without her at bay.

Buffy looked up at his face. "Hell on Earth. Literally."

"Right. I looked everywhere for Red, Harris, for anyone you’d known, really. Back then, I thought you were still alive." He paused, the memories hurting him. "I looked for you everywhere, Slayer. Searched SunnyHell up one side and down the other. Went to LA, sought out Angel, tried to find your Da--- you see, no other Slayer was ever called. I couldn’t believe that you’d just up and leave your post, even if all your friends were dead. You--- you’re better then that. I knew that something beyond your control must have been keeping you away. The possibility of your death… it made the most sense. But if you’d died, there would have been a new Slayer."

"Spike and I’ve been wondering what really happened for decades, Buffy," Giles said, grasping her hand gently. "We’ve worried for you and waited for you. And we need you, not only as Buffy, but as the Slayer. An open Hellmouth is not the end the world, but it certainly doesn’t make it a very good place to live, either. We need you. Are you with us?"

Buffy shut her eyes and nodded, then reeled dizzily against Spike. He hugged her against his chest to steady her. She was as filthy as she’d been the day she’d died- they’d been on the run from Glory, with little time to shower - but Spike purposely inhaled her scent. Blood, dirt, sweat--- and Buffy. She smelled exactly the same. Instinctively, his arms tightened around her. She was back, and he had a second chance.

******************************

So: we are fairly met, grave friend-

The meeting of two wounds in man.

******************************

Chapter 3

~Includes excerpts by e.e. cummings and Nietzsche.

***************************

***************************

Spike and Buffy stood silently in front of her old house. It looked---

"The same as when I left," Buffy said, darting a glace at Spike. "Did you---?"

"Yeah, I took over here after you left. Didn’t want it to get looted and burned like a lot of the other places did." He unlocked the door and stepped carefully over the holy water booby trap. "Lots of demons wanted to take it over- you know, the whole ‘Slayer’s lair’ appeal. But I kept it the same, for you. Knew you’d be back someday."

"What if I was dead?" Buffy asked, "Or, if I’d stayed dead, that is. If you’d known for sure where I was, what had happened."

Spike darted a quick smile at her. "I always knew you’d be back, love. Someday. Somehow."

She walked into her house and flipped on a light switch. Nothing happened.

"The electricity’s been off for years, Slayer. No human’s safe at work these days. And no demon cares enough to fix it. We can rig it up for you, if you’d like. Julie is great at wires and tools and such. She’s not really as young as she seems- demons tend to age differently, even half-breeds. She could have this place humming for you in no time."

"What I’d really like," Buffy said, smiling slightly, "to take a shower. That is, if the water’s still on. And if shampoo still exists."

"Course it does, Slayer. It’s right where you left it," Spike said, opening the bathroom door and pointing to the shelf. "That, and everything else."

Buffy surveyed the jumble of makeup on the countertop, the clean towels folded on the hanger. She fingered her hair brush and, noting the strands of her hair that still tangled around the bristles, turned to Spike, who stood in the doorway watching her with his head slightly tilted.

"You really did know I would be back, didn’t you?" she said, looking into his eyes for the truth.

Spike smiled simply. "Yes. I knew. Not always, you understand, and not every day. Time passes quickly for a vampire, but those hard days were--- well, hard. And long. On those days, I’d spend most of my time here, just to feel normal again. Sometimes I’d wonder if I’d gone batty, leaving all your junk around. I mean, you should smell the kitchen!"

Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust, and Spike laughed. "No, not really. But all your clothes, your stuffed pig, everything else that wouldn’t go bad or stink. I replaced some stuff too- knew you’d want your shampoo. And your mum’s stuff too, and--- and the Nibblet’s. It’s all here. I couldn’t save the people you knew, but I could make bloody sure that you’d know your own home when you returned to it."

"How’d you know, Spike?" Buffy asked, touching his sleeve gently.

He looked at her contemplatively for a moment, then moved away and turned on the shower. "Towels are there, Slayer, and soap and all the rest. I’ll give you some privacy."

"Spike," Buffy said insistently, holding him in the tiny room with her grip on his wrist.

"It was the dreams, alright? You were alive in my dreams," he said, the words rushing out of him. "Every day, I’d dream that you were talking to me. You say things you’d never have told me in person- like, that it was okay that I missed you so much, that I ached for you just like- no, more then that big bloody poofter ever had. Telling me how things could be different, how they were not suppose to be so dark, so hard, so violent. You tell me, Buffy, how a vampire could find comfort in dreams of the Slayer telling him the violence will go away. I don’t know. I’m not the man you knew. This is not the world you knew. I wish you’d kept your sodding gift. You should’ve given the bloody Powers the finger, told them you were staying dead and in Heaven, happy and safe and at peace. You deserved that. This- you don’t deserve this. Everyone you love- dead. Two vamps your only company. The world to save, again. And probably again after that! No Scoobies to laugh with you, no kid sis to annoy you---" His voice broke, his face darkened, and he cleared his throat. "No kid sis at all. And why? Well. For a scrawny fellow, that Doc sure sent me for a ride. Glad you couldn’t see the look on Dawn’s face when he tossed me. It was--- something I’ll always carry with me."

Buffy watched him carefully. Pain flickered in his eyes as he tormented himself over things neither of them could change. They had both failed, and both were blameless, though she seemed to be the only one who wasn’t punishing herself over the past. A pang of loss shook Buffy as she realized the truth of Spike’s words. The vamp she’d known was a ‘roll with the punches’ sort of creature. For a member of the undead, he’d had a greater love of life then anyone else she’d ever known. Guilt wasn’t a strange emotion to Buffy: she knew it when she saw it. And Spike- the new Spike- virtually embodied it.

"Spike---" she broke off, uncertain of what to say, how to ease him. She saw he was biting the insides of his mouth, viciously forcing back tears. His face began to change repeatedly: vamp and back, vamp and back, over and over until he was almost a featureless blur. She grabbed him, her palms on either side of his face. "Stop it! You’ll hurt yourself!" she shouted, and he stopped, looking at her like she was an idiot. Of course, his look said. That was the point. If redemption comes from pain, he’d set himself afire. She didn’t move away, only stared at him. Finally, she brushed a light kiss over his lips and released him. Turning away from him, she picked up a shampoo bottle and placed it in the shower.

When she faced him again, he was ready for her. He ran his hands reverently over her hair, his eyes never leaving her own. "Buffy."

She covered his hands with hers, and slowly walked him out of the bathroom. "You’re not the man I knew," she whispered, and watched as his face fell. "But I think you’re the man I want to know."

**********

***********************************

One must still have chaos in oneself

to be able to give birth to a dancing star.

***********************************

The old Sunnydale High School library had never looked so alive. Demons coming and going from the Hellmouth stood in lines, having their passports checked. The stairs leading up from the Hellmouth were packed with demons of various descriptions, and in the far corner, an ambitious creature named Buello poured drinks and gave directions to the newly arrived.

"The town’s open, folks, but pretty empty as far as humans go. You can still find the occasional survivalist or hermit, but most people ran when the Mouth first opened. Heading to LA’s a fine choice, but it’s overcrowded, and housing’s hard to find. Plenty of food though, what with the factories and all. The frontier’s to the east. That’s where I’d go if I was young and evil. Find yourself a nice, country town to settle down in, you’d be the head honcho, with your own land! Or, head north. It’s mostly settled, but you could always find a Master in need of a new minion or two."

Buello paused to pull a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the sweat from his brow. "I hate this job," he muttered to himself. "Hottest job in America. Literally."

Feeling a tug on the back of his suit, he turned to find Julie standing in front of him, fidgeting nervously. "Hey Dad," she said, flashing her dimples at him.

"Jules! Hey there girly. Where’ve you been? I’ve been looking for you all day!"

The girl pulled him back into the shadows, watching the unruly crowd nervously. "It’s okay for me to be here, right? I mean, they’re not gonna notice me?"

"Hey, hey, sweetheart," Buello said, soothing her, "You know they can’t see you if you don’t want them to. Remember? Good genetics on behalf of your father’s side of the family. Lucky for you, you got your looks from your mama. Green skin’s well and good for someone living the demon life, but you’re made for better things, baby."

Julie rolled her eyes. "Yeah Dad, you’ve told me. And told me."

"How’re things with the Undead Duo? Still fighting the good fight?"

"You send 'em, we kill ‘em. You know, the same old thing. ‘Cept, something happened yesterday. A miracle, I guess. The Slayer’s back," Julie said.

"The Slayer! That whole line of girls died out, ‘bout twenty years back. The last one ran off after her sister died closing the energy portal."

"Well, she’s back now. And she didn’t run off before, she died. Saved the world from the portal by---" Julie paused, trying to remember what Giles had told her, "Taking her gift back. So, I think that means it’s time, don’t you?"

Buello stared at his daughter, considering. "Hmph. Well, yeah, I guess it does. You’re sure you want this? I mean, the Hellmouth does pay the bills, baby. Clothes on your back, blood in your belly, you know?"

"Daa-ad, I don’t drink blood. And we can make money some other way, a way that doesn’t involve Hell. Okay? C’mon, Dad. You promised."

"I know, I know. Just making sure you know what you’re asking for. Closing the Hellmouth will put you and I out on the street."

Julie shook her head. "No Dad, I told you. Ripper- er- Mr. Giles will let us stay at HQ, let you work for him. You can still make drinks for demons, just… tame demons."

Buello raised his eyebrows. "Tame demons? There is such a thing?"

"Of course!" Julie grinned. "Don’t I work for two of them? And the Slayer, she has to be a demon. At least, I think she does. She hasn’t got a soul anymore."

Buello’s face froze. "A Slayer--- with no soul--- Julie, do you know what that means?" He pulled out of the shadows and through the masses of demons to the exit. "A child of light--- shall take the gift--- buy it back--- give her soul---".

"What are you mumbling?" Julie asked as he pulled her down the hallway and into their apartment. It had once been the high school’s kitchen, but food and lodging came with any job on the Hellmouth.

Opening the top drawer of his desk, Buello pulled out a dusty volume of translated scrolls. He flipped it open, and handed it to her after finding the right page. "Keeping my promise, Baby," he said,

Julie’s eyes widened as she read the prophesy. "I’ve got to get this to the Council."

**********************************

Where angels and children picnic together

(This is the dream I love best of all).

**********************************

*************************

What are we coming to

What wants these things of us

Who wants them

*************************

Chapter 5

~Includes excerpts by Adrienne Rich

**************************
You are beside me like a wall;

I touch you with my fingers and

keep moving through the bad light.

***************************

Buffy stepped out of the shower carefully, and listened for Spike. She knew he’d stayed in the hallway while she refreshed herself, standing guard, even if he wouldn’t admit to it. Her very own watch-vampire, complete with growl and fangs.

"I’m fine!" she called to him, and giggled as she listened to him tip-toe away. He could pretend all he wanted to, but her Slayer senses didn’t lie when they told her a vamp was present.

Spike was different, Buffy thought. He’d always known her mind, even when he wanted to

kill her. So much had gone wrong between them, Buffy thought. At first, it was wrong that she didn’t stake him. She could have, easily, even though they were evenly matched in the fighting department. He’d been so crazy about Drusilla. She’d been his weak spot. She could have taken advantage of that, used that weakness to kill him.

She had let him live. And that had been wrong. Then. But the Powers must really have known what they were doing in keeping her from harming him. Where would Giles be now without Spike? Where would any of them be? Glory would have killed Buffy long before the ritual that opened the portal. The past would have been completely changed. And as for the present--- a New World had to be created. And it could never work without Spike’s help. Giles was no fighter, even if he was a vampire, and Buffy couldn’t fight an army by herself.

Buffy sighed wearily and stepping into the empty hallway, a towel wrapped securely around her damp body. How were she and Spike suppose to defeat an entire demon army all by themselves? It seemed impossible. But, Buffy reminded herself, the Powers know what they’re doing. Sure, they screwed up the entire world- again- and sure, this whole mess was really all their fault. But they’ve created New Worlds before. They’ve gotta have some idea of how it’s done.

After throwing on a pair of jeans and a tank top, Buffy went downstairs to meet Spike in the living room. He sat perched on the edge of the couch, stacks of papers and boxes on the table in front of him.

"What’s all this?" Buffy asked, sitting beside him.

He looked at her grudgingly, worry creasing his forehead. "This might not be the best time to show you all this, but…"

"But it might be the only chance we’ll have," Buffy said, understanding.

"Right then. I saved this stuff for you. Most of it was the Witch’s and Harris’s- see, here’re Willow’s journals, and…"

Buffy reached into a box and pulled out a worn Superman comic book. Caressing the cover, she thought of Xander and how he would have been right behind her in this new fight. The heart of the Scoobies, she remembered.

"He thought of himself as your very own Jimmy Olsen, you know," Spike said. "But he was happy. Fighting the fight of the morally correct and all. Saving puppies and Christmas. Annoying the bloody death out of me."

Buffy smiled tearfully. "He--- I think he was better then the rest of us, more courageous. We all had something bigger then ourselves to help us or to protect us. Xander--- he was mostly just stubborn. Loyal. And very, very brave." She grabbed Spike’s hands. "What happened to him? How--- how?"

Spike squeezed her hands firmly. "You don’t want to know, love."

Shutting her eyes to clear her mind, Buffy nodded. " ‘Kay. I trust your judgment about that."

"Do you?" Spike asked, searching through the stacks of journals. "What else about me do you trust, then?"

Buffy opened her eyes. "What do you mean?"

He looked at her silently for a moment, then picked up a thick journal with ‘W. Rosenberg’ written in red ink on the cover. "It’s in here," he said, rifling through the pages, "See, here it is. Listen to this."

He read: "It worked! We finally did it! Tara and I made sunlight today! After the whole disaster with Olaf the troll, I didn’t think I’d ever figure out it. But then- poof! It just worked! It turns out, you have to really, really want it to work. You can’t just do it for practice or for fun or whatever. You have to feel like your life depends on it. Tara and I were walking home from the Magic Box, and a bunch of vamps attacked us. One of them was just about to bite me, and I was so desperate that I tried the incantation. And it worked! All of a sudden- sunlight! I always wondered what happened to a vamp in the sun. I mean--- death, of course, but I didn’t realize that it takes them a few minutes to die. Of course, that doesn’t make the spell less effective. Even though they don’t die right away, they’re in too much pain with the whole burning thing to do anything but scream."

He looked at Buffy expectantly, but she had drifted away. "Buff?" he prodded.

Buffy jumped, startled. "Oh! Sorry. I was---" she sighed. "I was just remember this fight that Dawn and Angel had. It was after he--- after he was himself again. And it was Christmas. He was being tortured by the First Evil, haunted by memories of the people he’d killed as Angelus. It was terrible for him, and for me. They wanted to drive him over the edge far enough that he’d lose his soul in me, then kill me. The torture--- it was incessant--- after a few days, he was in so much pain that he decided to kill himself, before he lost control and hurt someone. Before he hurt me. I found him sitting on the ridge, waiting for the sunrise. I begged him to come inside with me, but he wouldn’t."

She paused, pain flashing across her face. "It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. I’d just gotten him back, and there I was, faced with watching him die- again. Or even having to kill him again myself."

"I never did convince him to go inside, but it turned out okay. Somehow, the sun didn’t rise that morning. There was a snow storm instead. It was a miracle, and it was the most beautiful morning I ever had with him. That was when I first realized that the Powers existed, and that they had plans for Angel and I. Spike, where is Angel?"

Spike shook his head. "No, pet."

"I knew that he was dead. Somehow, I knew." She paused a moment, cleared her throat, then continued. "Anyways, when Dawn found out about what had happened, she was furious. She’d seen what I’d gone through when he’d--- gone away the first time, and the second time too, and it made her furious that he could say he loved me and still try to put me through that much pain again. Angel never did come clean with me on exactly what happened between them, but when I saw them both the next day, Angel had a black eye and Dawn--- she had a new respect for Angel. She said he would give his life to protect me, and that it was give with a capital ‘G’. I asked her what she meant by that, and she wouldn’t tell me. All she’d say was, ‘I’m glad you kill them quickly’."

"He must have told her what a terrible way to die it is. Burning in the sun." Spike shuddered, imagining it.

"Yeah. I think so." Buffy looked down, surprised to find her hands still in his. His hands felt cool and smooth, like water on hot skin. They felt good, she noted, blushing slightly. "But what does this have to do with anything? Why’d you read that to me?"

"Because, Slayer, the army we’re to fight will be mostly vampire minions, commanded by the Oehnos. I know you remember the Master? Well, think, Buffy. He had a Master as well, when he was first turned. And his Master had a Master, and that Master had a Master, and---"

"That first Oober-Master would be Oehnos. I get the point. So, you think that we could work this sunlight spell of Willow’s and create sunlight over the Hellmouth. That’ll take care of the army. Will that cause the Mouth to close?"

"I’d wager on it. Either it’ll close on its own, or Oehnos will close it for his own protection. Imagine, Buffy, what sunlight would do to Hell."

She paused a minute, thinking. "No," she said finally, "this won’t work. It’d mean I’d have to fight an army all by myself! You and Giles couldn’t help me, not with sunlight as a weapon. No, we’ll have to find something else."

Spike stood up impatiently, papers flying from his lip. "Slayer," he growled, "you’re wrong. There is no other way. We have to fight an undead army tomorrow! What, you got an army of your own waiting in the wings, ready to fight in less then twenty-four hours?"

"Of course not. But Spike, there’s no way I can do it by myself. It’d be suicide, even if I wasn’t out of practice, which I am! I might not remember being dead for twenty years, but my muscles definately do!"

"You won’t be alone, pet," he said, kneeling in front of her. He pulled something out of his pocket. "See this? This earring allows a vamp to see his own reflection if a human puts it on him of their own volition. There’s a second earring, its match, that is made from a very special Gem. I think you know her, love. Name of Amara?"

Buffy gaped at him. "You have the Gem of Amara? Where is it?"

"Well, I can’t very well wear it every day, can I? Even if some demon didn’t kill me trying to steal it, it… it doesn’t go with my look, now does it?" He smiled and held out the earring. "Think you could help me with this?"

Buffy examined the thick, gold circlet carefully, then leaned down and gently poked it into his cartilage. "What kind of stone is this one?" she asked, touching it lightly with a fingertip.

Spike gasped as she tickled his ear. "It’s --- um --- Arama, Amara’s twin. B-Buffy, what are you playing at here?" he said, trying not to move as she caressed his hair above the earring.

She ran her hands over his hair, over the bones of his face, her eyes soft as she gazed at him. "You’re shaking," she whispered, as her hands roamed slowly down to his shoulders, then back up again.

"Of course I am, love," he said, not touching her. "It’s been a long day."

"A long day?" she said, tracing his lips.

Spike shuddered slightly. "Pet--- I’ve spent the last twenty years waiting for you, and then poof- here you are. A welcome shock, true, but a shock nonetheless. I waited for you, for so long. And I missed you. Life without you--- let’s just say, I really felt dead, for the first time since I was turned. Without you, I had nothing. I was nothing. I kept your life open for you here, as best I could. You house, your Watcher, even did your patrolling. That was all you. Me--- I was nowhere. I couldn’t be here, not without you."

Buffy stilled her hands. "Spike---" she began.

"What is it Slayer? You didn’t think that a measly little thing like Hell on Earth would stop me from loving you, did you?" He smirked at her with his mouth, but his eyes held an intensity so piercing that it was all Buffy could do to meet his gaze. But she did, boldly, and took his hands in hers as well.

"No. I was more leaning towards the fact that I died right after telling you that I’d never love you. That, and I was gone for two decades. Things like that tend to fade the romantic bloom, you know."

Spike sighed. "Buff. Look at me. I’m a vampire, okay? I’ve got nothing but time. And I would’ve waited for you forever- literally! I knew you didn’t love me. I knew that wherever you were, you were there not thinking about me, not missing me as I missed you. But that’s not love, pet. Love is something I give you, no strings attached. You take it, or you leave it, but it’s there nonetheless. That’s what makes it so worthy, so rare. You can spend the rest of your immortality hating the very blood of me, and still I will fight your fight, I will dance your dance. Whatever it takes, pet. Anything."

"I---" Buffy broke off, tears filling her eyes. "I don’t know what to say."

Spike smiled sardonically. "Well, at least your not still trying to tell me how I can’t love, or any other rubbish like that."

Blushing, Buffy touched his cheek. "I was wrong. Obviously."

Spike absorbed her admission for a moment. Twenty years of loving her, and finally he’d made some headway. But they’d make no more if he didn’t focus on keeping her with him past tomorrow. "Back to business, Slayer," he said, reaching for Willow’s spellbook. "We’ve got a war to win tomorrow, remember?"

*****************************

How can I fail to love

your clarity and fury

how can I give you all you’re due

take courage from your courage

*****************************

Chapter 6

~Includes an excerpt by Krishnamurti.

********

The double-decker bus was dilapidated and covered with grime. Buffy winced as she climbed into it and gingerly took her seat beside the driver. Spike, used to the bus’s appearance, clipped on his seat belt and rubbed his hands over the steering wheel with mock-appreciation.

"She’s really something, isn’t she," Buffy ventured.

"Beats the DeSoto," Spike said and turned on the engine. It let out a noise Buffy could only label as ‘cat being tortured slowly’, but it ran.

"Uh-uh," Buffy said, watching the houses fly by as Spike sped towards HQ. "Why exactly does the Council of Watchers drive a double-decker? I mean, it isn’t exactly the stealthiest."

Spike snorted. "No, it’s not, but it runs. And Julie likes it. Kid’s nuts over anything English --- which includes Giles for some reason, but not yours truly."

"Can’t imagine why," Buffy said sarcastically. "Seeing as how you’re so nice to her and all."

"I tried to be good to the chit, but there’s just something about her that rubs me the wrong way. Dunno what. She’s a sweet enough girl, it’s just ---"

"She looks just like Dawn," Buffy said, looking out the window away from him.

Exhaling loudly, Spike nodded. "A mirror image, eh? I always thought so. Used to tear me up inside, just the sight of her. I’d see Dawn --- see her laughing, see her putting on airs, like she was a big bad. That was okay, in a painful sort of way. But then Julie’d toss her hair back and all I’d see was Dawn, falling from that bloody platform, her hair flying behind her like ---" he broke off. "Sorry. You shouldn’t have to hear all this. I know it must hurt you, remembering her death."

Biting her lip, Buffy shook her head. "I don’t, though. Remember her death. I wasn’t even there, not really. I remember the death that she would’ve had if I’d jumped into the portal, but it’s fading, like it was only a dream. The last time I remember seeing Dawn was when Glory stole her from us at the gas station, and even that’s a blur." She shook her head again, viciously, to clear it. "But I can’t think about Dawn now. Or Willow, or Xander. They’re dead, and I can’t help them. All I can do is ---"

Spike smiled. "Save the world?" He parked the bus in an alley behind HQ.
 

"One of them, at least," Buffy said, standing. She walked to the back of the bus and rummaged through a pile of weapons, then tossed Spike a sword.

"Spar?" she asked, testing the weight of another sword in her hands. "If I’m gonna fight with you, I have to know what you can do. You must’ve learned a few tricks you could teach me."

He charged her, and grinned into her face as she parried his blow, high above both their heads. "It won’t be tricks I’ll be teaching you, pet."

***********************

"Hey there Giles," Buffy said, sweeping into Council HQ and dumping a box load of ritual components onto the bar. "Spike’s taking a rest. He said to tell you that you’ll need these things for Willow’s sunlight spell. Not much too it, I guess. You can do it in a few minutes, then when the time comes to use it, all I have to do is say the magic words."

"Incant, Buffy. Not magic words," Giles said idly as he picked through the box of components. "Magic words are what you tell children to say. Incants are for real spells."

Buffy smiled. "Even vamp-Giles lectures me. Nothing really changes, huh?"

Giles looked at her, surprised, then returned her smile. "Not between us, Buffy. I’m still your Watcher. Of course, now that there are only two Council members, your only other possible Watcher would be Spike. And I don’t suppose that would be very ideal, now would it? Former mortal enemies and all."

Buffy walked around the bar and poured herself a glass of water. She drank it slowly, thinking. "Well," she said, not meeting Giles’ eyes. "I’m glad you’re still my Watcher. But speaking of changes --- Spike --- he’s very different, isn’t he?"

"Very," Giles said, searching Buffy’s face. "Did he --- did he tell you much about his life while you were --- gone?"

"A few things," Buffy said, pouring another glass and handing it to Giles. "Why?"

"It’s just that --- I hoped you knew how he’d found me, what he did for me," Giles said, sipping the water. "I think you must understand who it is you’re allied with. And he deserves your understanding, however hard it might be for you to give."

Smiling, Buffy patted Giles’ arm. "I think you’d be surprised at Spike and I these days, Giles. We’re --- it’s different now, between us. It’s less ‘serial killer in jail’ now, and more --- more --- ‘serial killer on parole’? No, that’s not right. Now --- now it’s like he was never a killer to begin with. So much time has passed, so much has happened. And me --- I’m different too, I think. Death’ll do that to a girl."

"Ah --- yes, quite. But Buffy, while I’m glad that you understand Spike’s new life, I’d hoped you might understand mine as well."

She frowned. "You’re a vamp. I know that already. Please don’t tell me there’s anything else --- honestly Giles, I don’t know if I can be any more open-minded then I am without having my brain explode."

Giles patted her arm. "No, I’m just a vampire, nothing more. But you see Buffy, you must know how I was turned, for your own good. I don’t want to tell you this, but I must. After the Hellmouth opened, I left Sunnydale. Knowing that all our friends were dead I headed towards LA, with the hopes that Angel might know where you were. He didn’t know anything of your whereabouts, of course. It turned out, going to LA was the worst possible thing I could have done." Giles stopped, grimacing. "Angel --- well, Angel had lost his soul again. And he was the same Angelus he’d been before. Torture was his favorite occupation, and he felt very fortunate to find me on his doorstep."

Buffy froze, shocked. Twenty years ago, she reminded herself. There’s nothing to be done now. Steeling herself, she reached for Giles’ cold hand. "What did he do to you," she asked, her voice harsh with emotion.

"About the same as he’d done before. Pain --- and more pain --- I won’t lie to you Buffy, it was brutal. For the first few months, I held out hope that you’d --- that somehow, you had survived, and would be coming for me. But the months passed, and then years --- Angelus wasn’t there the entire time, he’d found a new occupation. But he always returned to me before I could starve to death. He kept me alive like that for nearly two years, in chains, in torment, before one of his minions turned me into a vampire against Angelus’ wishes. I lived the life of a vamp for another two years. Yes, Buffy- I, your Watcher, killed the innocent and fed on their blood. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what I had to do to make Angelus believe that he could gain nothing from holding me captive. As soon as I was allowed my freedom, I left LA and came back here. My books were right where I’d left them- apparently, demon hordes from Hell were even less interested in them then you had been. I cast my own soul back upon myself. It nearly killed me to do so. It took months before I had my full strength back after that. And when I did, I had no where to go.

I fell into a depression, and stayed in my apartment for years, feeding off the blood of rats. Ironic, isn’t it? Angel turned me into a monster, and there I was following in his footsteps. That was where Spike found me. He was --- Buffy, he was in such grief over your loss. He’d returned to my apartment to look through my books after learning that a new Slayer had never been called. Searching for answers to your disappearance gave us a mission. It gave me myself back. Deciding to restart the Council was a natural step from there. I wanted to move away from Sunnydale, but Spike insisted we stay. He wanted you to have something to come home to, if you ever did."

"Why now?" Buffy asked, her eyes huge with sorrow. "Why tell me this now?"

Giles cleared his throat. "Because, you must know all you can about the army you’ll be fighting tonight. I told you that Angelus left me alone for long period of time because he’d found something new to occupy his time with. That new thing was Oehnos and his underlings. The Grand Master took a shining to his many-times-removed progeny. It’s Angelus who’ll be leading the army, Buffy. It’s Angelus who you’ll have to kill."

Buffy put her face in her hands, as if she could physically push back the anguish. "This is why the Powers wanted me to fight this fight, in this time. Because it’s Angel."

Hugging his Slayer to him, Giles nodded. "Yes. I think so. They know that you’ve killed him before. And I know what it did to you, Buffy, how it hurt you. Do you think that you can do it again?"

Buffy sat in silence, her face still buried. She forced herself to picture Angelus, not Angel. "I’ll do what it takes, Giles," she said dully. "But right now, I have to find Spike."

**********

Spike didn’t stir when Buffy slammed into the back room of HQ. She stood over him for a moment, watching his sleeping face. He hadn’t lied to her, not exactly. He’d only let her believe that Angel was dead. She’d been completely unprepared for what Giles had told her, when she’d thought she’d known all there was to know. How could he have let her be caught off-guard that way? How could he have kept her in the dark?

"Wake up," she said stiffly, kicking the futon on which he slept.

He woke instantly and leapt to his feet, then relaxed as he recognized it was only her. She allowed him a half second to adjust before grabbing him by his shoulders and slamming him against the nearest wall.

"Bloody hell woman! What are you doing?" Spike sputtered, struggling against her grasp.

She slammed him against the wall again, and he stopped struggling. Looking at her, he could almost believe that the past twenty some-odd years had never happened, and that they were mortal enemies again. She had that same look of focused fury she wore while beating him for information in times long since past. He cocked his head, studying her, then realized suddenly what must have happened.

"You know," he said, going limp in her arms. "Let me go, Buffy. We need to talk."

"So talk," Buffy said, shoving him away from her. She backed away from him, then stood with her arms crossed. "Why didn’t you tell me that Angel is still alive?"

Spike crossed the space between them in three large steps and grabbed her arms. "Because, pet, Angel isn’t still alive. Angel is dead. Angelus is all that’s left."

"You should have told me, Spike. What, you were just going to let me meet him in battle, and be surprised? That would have gotten me killed. Or, did you expect that he’d see me and … what? Suddenly remember that I’m the love of his life, forget the fact that he hates me, and take me away again? Away from you?"

"Of course not," Spike spat. He shook her once, hard. "Angelus isn’t capable of love, even for you. And I was going to tell you, of course I was! I didn’t know how to tell you about Angel without telling you about Giles. And that was his tale to tell. He would’ve staked me good and proper if I’d said anything before he was ready for you to know. It’s not the sort of thing a man --- or a vampire! --- likes to just blurt out, love. ‘Oh, by the by, while you were dead I was suffering years of torture at the hands of your true love’. Not exactly the picture Giles would have you carry of him, eh?"

Buffy shrugged off Spike’s hands, but didn’t step away from him. "I’ve seen it before," she whispered, closing her eyes.

"Yeah, I know. I was there, remember? And it’s not something I’d forget. Buffy. I should have told you, I know that. But I had to give you time to understand that I am not who I was. Otherwise, you would have hated me for not rescuing Giles from Angelus. You might’ve thought that I’d left him there to suffer, that I’d had some role in it even. And even if I didn’t care what you thought of me, I still would need you to trust me. Because otherwise, how would we beat Oehnos tonight? I couldn’t take the chance that you would think the worst."

She looked at him for a long moment, the air heavy between them. "You wouldn’t have left Giles there. I know that. Even if you didn’t care what happened to him, you hate Angelus. And you love me. And I know you would’ve taken care of anyone I loved. You’ve proven that to me. So, maybe you were right not to tell me before. I just ---" she sagged onto the futon wearily, brushing her hair from her face with both hands. "I just can’t believe that I have to kill him, again."

Spike sat next to her and grabbed her hands. "But Buffy, don’t you see? Don’t you understand? The prophecy, love. You don’t have to kill Angelus. You just have to give him your soul."

************************************
When you love, everything will come right.

Love has its own action.

Love, and you will know the blessings of it.

************************************