Chapter Four
A Lesson in Cryptic
"Spike?" Buffy called out as she cautiously opened the door to his crypt. Stepping inside, she looked around. The place looked, well, deserted. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she encountered the unpleasant scent of congealed blood.
It had been a week since she'd last seen Spike- and although she wouldn't admit it to anyone else- she was starting to feel worried. Something strange had happened to him the night that he'd saved her from that demon, and it was bugging her.
It was weird, actually. But the day after the attack had occurred, she'd woken up feeling optimistic for the first time since she'd been back from the dead. It was almost as if some great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, leaving her free to feel happy again. She was so caught up with getting back into the swing of life that she hadn't truly Spike's conspicuous absence until now.
"Spike?" she called again, descending into the underground portion of the crypt.
-Maybe he's just out, going for blood or smokes or something,- Buffy told herself when once again, there was no answer.
When she noticed that most of his clothes had been cleared out, an overwhelming feeling of panic and sadness gripped her.
-He wouldn't just leave, would he?- she thought despairingly. Her eyes scanned the room for some sort of clue to Spike's whereabouts. There was nothing, not even a goodbye note. Buffy knelt down to the floor and picked up a silk shirt that lay discarded on it. Bringing it to her face, she inhaled the trace of Spike's familiar (and admittedly, somewhat comforting) scent of cigarette smoke and well-worn leather.
Still clutching the shirt, she laid down on the bed, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.
* * *
"I knew you'd come."
Buffy found herself looking down at a young boy. He had curly, sandy-blonde hair and hauntingly familiar blue eyes framed by a pair of too-big spectacles that were currently slipping down his nose.
The child pushed the glasses up onto the bridge of his nose with an index finger, then held out a hand for Buffy to take. Not knowing what was going on, Buffy automatically clasped it, and followed him when he started to walk.
"Where are we going?" the Slayer asked.
"I have something you need to see." He stopped in front of a table with what looked to be a photo album sitting on top of it. He smiled encouragingly at her. "Go on, look inside,"
Wordlessly, Buffy lifted the book from the table and opened it. Flipping through, she noticed that it was empty except for a single picture on the last page. The picture contained three figures- Spike was in the centre, with a nasty-looking demon on his left, and a human wearing a tweed suit that reminded her of Giles on his right. As she stared at the picture, the demon faded, leaving only Spike and the human. As she examined the picture closer, she realised that the human *was* Spike. Or at least, must have been Spike, before he was turned. There was no mistaking those cheekbones, or the eyes behind the wire-frame glasses.
Buffy looked down at the child who was wearing an identical pair of said glasses.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to come back slowly, but it happened too fast and now you're the only one who can help…"
Buffy could feel the dream begin to lift.
"Wait!" she called out, desperately. "What is 'it'? How am I supposed to help if I don't know what's going on?"
"The City of Angel holds your answers…"
* * *
"City of Angels…" Buffy grumbled. "Oh yeah, that's original. But what the hell's in LA that's so important?" she groused, picking herself up from Spike's bed and climbing back up towards the upper level. Checking her watch, she noticed that her little tenure into cryptic dream land had only lasted about half an hour- Willow and Dawn wouldn't be expecting her home for a while yet.
During the walk back to Revello Drive, Buffy mused on what the dream meant and what to do about it. Obviously, she was supposed to go to LA- that much was plain. But what was she supposed to do once she got there? Her eyes widened as she recollected the last thing the boy had said to her. He hadn't said City of Angels, but rather City of *Angel*. Whatever was going on, her ex-boyfriend played a part in it.
"Hey, I'm home!" she called out as she entered the house.
"Buffy. You're home awfully early. Vamps take a night off?" Dawn inquired.
"What? Oh, uh, yeah… Dawn, look, is Willow around? I've got something I need to talk to you both about," Buffy said as she walked into the living room.
"Did I hear my name?" the aforementioned redhead poked her head into the doorway.
"Yeah. Wills, Dawn, I've- I've got to go to LA for a while-" Buffy was interrupted by Dawn, who asked while making a face at her sister,
"To go see Angel?"
"No. Well, yes, but not in that sort of way…" two equally blank looks were directed at the Slayer. "I mean, I'm not seeing Angel to see *Angel*, I'm going because Spike's gone to see him and I'm supposed to go to Spike." She paused, letting the information sink in. "As for how I know- Slayer dream." Her audience nodded, having experience with such occurrences. "Now, I don't think it should take more than a week, but I really don't know. I'm going in tomorrow to book off work, and then I'm leaving. You two will be all right?"
Dawn smiled at Buffy. In the past few weeks, she and Willow had repaired the rift that had opened between the two since Dawn's accident. Besides, even if she'd still been mad, Buffy was going to go help *Spike*, she would have endured it for his sake.
"Yeah. Don't worry, Buffy. We'll be good. No parties while you're gone, honest. Well, not any that we won't clean up after, anyway…" Dawn said innocently. "Hey, is that Spike's shirt in your hand?"
A Lesson in Cryptic
"Spike?" Buffy called out as she cautiously opened the door to his crypt. Stepping inside, she looked around. The place looked, well, deserted. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she encountered the unpleasant scent of congealed blood.
It had been a week since she'd last seen Spike- and although she wouldn't admit it to anyone else- she was starting to feel worried. Something strange had happened to him the night that he'd saved her from that demon, and it was bugging her.
It was weird, actually. But the day after the attack had occurred, she'd woken up feeling optimistic for the first time since she'd been back from the dead. It was almost as if some great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, leaving her free to feel happy again. She was so caught up with getting back into the swing of life that she hadn't truly Spike's conspicuous absence until now.
"Spike?" she called again, descending into the underground portion of the crypt.
-Maybe he's just out, going for blood or smokes or something,- Buffy told herself when once again, there was no answer.
When she noticed that most of his clothes had been cleared out, an overwhelming feeling of panic and sadness gripped her.
-He wouldn't just leave, would he?- she thought despairingly. Her eyes scanned the room for some sort of clue to Spike's whereabouts. There was nothing, not even a goodbye note. Buffy knelt down to the floor and picked up a silk shirt that lay discarded on it. Bringing it to her face, she inhaled the trace of Spike's familiar (and admittedly, somewhat comforting) scent of cigarette smoke and well-worn leather.
Still clutching the shirt, she laid down on the bed, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.
* * *
"I knew you'd come."
Buffy found herself looking down at a young boy. He had curly, sandy-blonde hair and hauntingly familiar blue eyes framed by a pair of too-big spectacles that were currently slipping down his nose.
The child pushed the glasses up onto the bridge of his nose with an index finger, then held out a hand for Buffy to take. Not knowing what was going on, Buffy automatically clasped it, and followed him when he started to walk.
"Where are we going?" the Slayer asked.
"I have something you need to see." He stopped in front of a table with what looked to be a photo album sitting on top of it. He smiled encouragingly at her. "Go on, look inside,"
Wordlessly, Buffy lifted the book from the table and opened it. Flipping through, she noticed that it was empty except for a single picture on the last page. The picture contained three figures- Spike was in the centre, with a nasty-looking demon on his left, and a human wearing a tweed suit that reminded her of Giles on his right. As she stared at the picture, the demon faded, leaving only Spike and the human. As she examined the picture closer, she realised that the human *was* Spike. Or at least, must have been Spike, before he was turned. There was no mistaking those cheekbones, or the eyes behind the wire-frame glasses.
Buffy looked down at the child who was wearing an identical pair of said glasses.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to come back slowly, but it happened too fast and now you're the only one who can help…"
Buffy could feel the dream begin to lift.
"Wait!" she called out, desperately. "What is 'it'? How am I supposed to help if I don't know what's going on?"
"The City of Angel holds your answers…"
* * *
"City of Angels…" Buffy grumbled. "Oh yeah, that's original. But what the hell's in LA that's so important?" she groused, picking herself up from Spike's bed and climbing back up towards the upper level. Checking her watch, she noticed that her little tenure into cryptic dream land had only lasted about half an hour- Willow and Dawn wouldn't be expecting her home for a while yet.
During the walk back to Revello Drive, Buffy mused on what the dream meant and what to do about it. Obviously, she was supposed to go to LA- that much was plain. But what was she supposed to do once she got there? Her eyes widened as she recollected the last thing the boy had said to her. He hadn't said City of Angels, but rather City of *Angel*. Whatever was going on, her ex-boyfriend played a part in it.
"Hey, I'm home!" she called out as she entered the house.
"Buffy. You're home awfully early. Vamps take a night off?" Dawn inquired.
"What? Oh, uh, yeah… Dawn, look, is Willow around? I've got something I need to talk to you both about," Buffy said as she walked into the living room.
"Did I hear my name?" the aforementioned redhead poked her head into the doorway.
"Yeah. Wills, Dawn, I've- I've got to go to LA for a while-" Buffy was interrupted by Dawn, who asked while making a face at her sister,
"To go see Angel?"
"No. Well, yes, but not in that sort of way…" two equally blank looks were directed at the Slayer. "I mean, I'm not seeing Angel to see *Angel*, I'm going because Spike's gone to see him and I'm supposed to go to Spike." She paused, letting the information sink in. "As for how I know- Slayer dream." Her audience nodded, having experience with such occurrences. "Now, I don't think it should take more than a week, but I really don't know. I'm going in tomorrow to book off work, and then I'm leaving. You two will be all right?"
Dawn smiled at Buffy. In the past few weeks, she and Willow had repaired the rift that had opened between the two since Dawn's accident. Besides, even if she'd still been mad, Buffy was going to go help *Spike*, she would have endured it for his sake.
"Yeah. Don't worry, Buffy. We'll be good. No parties while you're gone, honest. Well, not any that we won't clean up after, anyway…" Dawn said innocently. "Hey, is that Spike's shirt in your hand?"