Chapter 21~ Knowledge Found

With Willow's locator spell, finding Spike proved a lot easier than the conversation Buffy was sure Angel was trying to have at that very moment.

"We getting there my way, or the old fashioned way?" Willow asked.

Buffy scrunched her face in distaste.

"Your way makes me all headachey. Lets do this like the pre- 'beam me up Scotty' days."

Clearly, she had been spending too much time around Andrew.

They weren't twenty feet out in the L.A. sunshine before curiosity got the better of Willow.

"Ok, what is going on with you and Angel?"

Buffy kept her bewildered gaze fixed ahead, but stumbled anyway.

"Going on? Nothing. Why would you ask that?"

"There's a vibe."

"What vibe? There's no vibe," she said, far too quickly.

"There's totally a vibe. You're completely vibey." Willow paused, searching her friend's face. "Did something… happen?"

Buffy stopped walking, finally looking at Willow. She considered her options, sizing up the redhead. It was probably going to be like a dog with a tasty bone. Willow was latched onto this one, and probably had every right to be.

"You're not gonna let this go are you?"

"Depends. Does a Frovalox demon regurgitate on its enemies?"

"I really wish I hadn't learned the answer to that the hard way."

"Stop being avoidy. Did something happen with you and Angel?"

A familiar smile sealed her fate. Buffy sighed in resignation.

"There was a definite… something."

Those wizened eyes studied her, seeming to pinpoint and dissect, before realization dawned.

"Oh my God."

Buffy nodded. The matured witch began to babble like she was sixteen again.

"Oh my God! Wait…you... and Angel…. and…. he.… but he's still…so he didn't….. so no grrrr?"

The Slayer could have laughed. If the world weren't in peril again.

"Nope. No more bad happy."

"Are you sure it's permanent? Maybe it was just the one time." Her voice was tinged with concern. For the world. For her friend.

"More like the six or seven times."

Willow's eyes widened in shock and understanding, her lips forming a silent 'Oh'. Followed by a not-so-silent one.

"Oh! Ok, then, yay! I can put away my Orb of Thessulah, and …. why aren't you happy?"

Buffy sighed again, resuming the walk.

"I am. Even in the midst of all this insanity. It's just…I don't know what it means. You know how much I loved him, how I never thought it was over between us. Not really. And now I see him so clearly, and I didn't think it would be possible, but I love him even more. He's so different, Will. He had a family, a mission. He never had that with me. Wacky prophecy or not, he's more human than I ever could have imagined. He never could have been this way if he hadn't left Sunnydale."

It hurt, to know that. To know that she had held him back from his true purpose. That he would not have become the warrior he was if he hadn't ripped out her heart.

"Ok. And there's a million ifs where that came from, Buffy. You wouldn't be the person you are now if he hadn't left. If Dawn hadn't been sent to you. If you hadn't died. If we hadn't awakened all the slayers. If you hadn't spent the last year being Apocalypse-free party gal."

"Guilty as charged. I just don't have a clue what he's thinking, Will. I'm not his world anymore. I haven't been for a long time."

It was Willow's turn to sigh. As much as she had grown, her friend still had those random moments of childish brattiness. Obstinacy that prevented her from seeing two feet in front of her face. Now, with slayers the world over, she could afford to indulge in such small weaknesses.

"Buffy, you know I love ya, but you can be a real dodo sometimes."

"I can be an extinct bird?" There was a smile under the words, but fear too.

"You know what I mean. Just like you know how Angel feels about you. He loves you. He's always loved you. He will always love you, until the day he di— ceases to exist."

"I want to believe that."

"Let me guess. You still haven't learned your lesson to just ask him these things?"

The blonde ducked her head sheepishly. "I…"

"Just talk to him. It's what I always tell you. Are you ever going to listen?"

"Ok, ok. I'll talk to him. Once we address our little annual problem of the world possibly ending. Satisfied?"

They walked on in silence. Buffy sensed the woman beside her mulling over something.

"I can hear the wheels turning."

Willow bit her lip, slightly embarrassed.

"Look, I always wanted to know. I couldn't ask after you… with Spike, because… gross, but…."

"Will…"

"The uh, the whole vampire stamina thing…?"

Buffy smirked, warm tendrils of desire snaking their way through her blood at the memory.

"Word of mouth just does not do it justice."

***

He was asleep on a small bed inside a tiny dump of an apartment with walls as blue as his eyes. A study in contradiction from the crypt where their bodies and wills had clashed. Buffy thought it was a step up. Evidently, Angel wasn't the only one who was more human these days.

He groaned as they entered, shifting up slightly to lean back on his elbows.

"You gonna pay for that door?"

Buffy shrugged. She hadn't broken the door. Just the handle.

"Put it on my tab."

"And you neglected to knock because…"

"It's more fun to annoy you."

For the first time, Spike seemed to notice that she had not come alone.

"Red. How's life off the Hellmouth? I hear inter-dimensional travel is all the rage."

"I'm good, Spike. It's nice to see you, you know, in one piece." Surprisingly, Willow realized that it was the truth.

"Why do I have the notion this little visit is going to decrease my chances of staying that way?"

He rose, sighing heavily, brushing a hand through his hair. The white strands were beginning to curl at the ends, and it made Buffy smile.

Spike looked at her, amused. Did a double take, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sniffed the air. His mouth tightened in anger and disbelief, and he took a step back, away from her.

"Damn it all to hell," he growled, sharp blue eyes locked on hers.

He had known. He had known, damn him, that this would happen eventually. Inevitably. Still, he had convinced himself that maybe it wouldn't.

Yet deep down, he had always known.

"I'm sorry, Spike," she said. But she was only sorry for the hurt reflected in that clear, clear blue.

He reached for the red and white package and pulled out a cigarette, rolling it thoughtfully between his fingers. Lit it, trying to get accustomed to this new torture. Breathed in the smoke deeply, desperate to expunge what flooded his nasal passages, his olfactory sensors, his very brain.

Her smell, immersed in another's.

Somehow, he managed to compose himself. To remember that that ship had sailed. That he never really had her, and had been painfully aware that he never would. He had hoped that maybe someday, maybe if he could come to her with a beating heart that Angel could never offer…

The whole real boy bit didn't seem to matter anymore though. The only thing to do here was to tackle it, head on. To hide the hurt behind sharp words. So long as they didn't inspire her to use sharp wooden sticks.

"I see someone has been shagged six ways from Sunday. Guess Peaches isn't a eunuch after all."

Even as the words escaped him, he was reminded of the ramifications they implied. Although, if she had recently come face to face with Angelus, she didn't seem too upset about it. Spike decided to press his luck.

"So, if Tall, Dark, and Boring's soul absconds into the aether because of your… attributes," he amended that last word at the withering stare she shot him, "can I stake Angelus into the great beyond?"

"No one's getting staked Spike," she bit back. "And Angelus is not coming out to play."

He puffed at his cigarette smugly.

"Oh? You no longer the old man's cup of tea for perfect happiness, luv?"

"I amend my previous statement. Someone is getting staked."

But there was no anger behind the words. And he thought, just maybe, it would be possible to accept that this is what they were to each other. She held his gaze for a moment in silent acknowledgement, before asking the last question he would have expected.

"So, you gonna quit playing Lone Ranger long enough to fill us in on your little solo gig?"

He lifted his eyebrows, surprised that Faith had decided to be forthcoming regarding their secret project. But things became clearer in the next instant, when he recognized the hardened set of Buffy's features, and what it meant.

Spike groaned.

"Is it really too much to ask for a bloody break between bouts of saving humanity?"

***

His hands trembled. At the moment, it seemed that they would never stop trembling. He wondered, if he was discovered, how long he would still have hands.

But this had to be done.

He understood now, knew what was happening. A switch that once flicked, could never be shut off.

He had been a party to it, a willing facilitator of dark deeds. But no longer.

This was something he could not abide.

His feet were moving of their own accord. One step, then another. No conception of where those steps were taking him. No plan.

Just the knowing.

The affirmation that, while the price for a betrayal of this magnitude would most certainly be his life, the cost of doing nothing would be far greater.

It spurred him forward down the cobblestone streets, staccato of footsteps mirroring the pounding of his heart.

The notion came that maybe he should hurry. Hurry to decide, hurry to his destination. Wherever that may be.

Because something else was occurring. A flurry of activity, the beginnings of ranks being closed and lines being drawn. A group of slayers was arriving imminently. But not the Slayer. Not the one he sought. She was nowhere to be found.

He wondered when The Others would find that troubling.

Without her though, who could he turn to? Who could he trust to do what was right, regardless of consequence?

The decision solidified before recognition of having made it.

Yes. This had to be done.

Lucien Ascentona intensified his pace through the balmy night, an envelope clasped in his now steady hands.