Buffy ran the brush through her hair. Stared at her reflection in the
mirror. She didn't like that she was shutting down again. But she
didn't know what else to do. Giles would be coming over after patrol, to
help her... do something. She wasn't sure what, but it had to be better
than her idea- sit in her dark room, on the bed, knees to her chest, and
stare blankly at the wall. She pulled her short hair into two tiny
pigtails at the base of her neck. She pulled on a long sleeved sweater,
a nod to the November weather, stuck a stake in her pocket, and took a
deep breath. Buffy went down the stairs, not sure if she was ready to
face the chained vamp in her living room.
"If you could only see the way, She loves me, Then maybe you would understand, Why I feel this way about, Our love, And what I must do, If you could only see how blue, Her eyes can be When she says... When she says she loves me...", Spike sang softly to himself, heedless of the Slayer descending the stairs. He continued humming the song, being unable to remember the rest of the words.
She walked to the doorway, pulling on a pair of shoes, then stepped into the living room.
Spike had his eyes closed, but he now knew she was there. "Evenin', Slayer," he said quietly, stopping his humming.
Her arms were hugging her sides, and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tried again. "I'm going patrolling."
His eyes opened and he looked at her, shifting slightly, rather, as much as the chains allowed him to shift. "Kill a few nasties for me." He looked at her, and his look softened slightly. She looked... lonely. "Uh, you goin' alone?"
"I will," she muttered, knowing she'd be a slaughterhouse tonight. THIS was the kind of release she was accustomed to. She was still far from him. In her mind, it was a safe distance. "No... Dawn and Xander are going with me."
He nodded. "Good that you're not goin' alone." Stared at the wall absently. "Ever thought of getting a painting or something for that wall? It needs something to look at."
Her eyes jerked to the bare wall. "Used to have a sculpture, but... It had some magic inclination. We had to get rid of it." She shrugged. "Willow, ya know."
"The addiction thing you told me about, right?" He considered the wall again. "Still... it needs something. Like... I dunno. A mountain scene. Rivers, rolling hills. Maybe a horse. I wonder if I remember how to paint..."
Buffy shrugged. "You're going to be alone most of the night. Till Giles or I get home."
He nodded. "I know. I'll just take a nap. I didn't get much sleep today."
"All right." She sighed. "Look. I just told Giles to come over about one. I didn't tell him anything. So... you'd be wise to keep your mouth shut till I get home."
He nodded again. "Look, Slayer... I.. uh.. I know you have your reasons for doing this, and I understand. I just want you to know that I hope I remember everything soon, because, the Spike you keep telling me about? He's really lucky. And I'm starting to see that."
Her bottom lip shook. Swallowed, firmed it, bit it. "Yeah. He is."
He looked back to the wall. "I just thought you should know that I'm trying. And that I'm sorry that I took him away from you. I... I know how much it hurts to have someone you love so close, and yet so far away."
She nodded, waited till she trusted her voice to say, "You didn't take him away."
"Yeah I did. I'm here. He's not. And I'm sorry it hurts you. If it helps, I do care about you. And the others... Well, most of them, anyway."
She almost smiled. The corners of her lips twitched up for a short second. "It helps, and it hurts." Bracing sigh. "Do you... want anything? Blood? We might... have some wings. I have some time before I have to meet them."
He shook his head. "I ate enough this afternoon to take me into tomorrow because I knew you were going out tonight. I'll be fine if you want to leave. I know I... freak you out, for want of a better term."
One hand left her ribs to absently rub a yellowing bruise. "I... ok."
"You hurt?" Concerned look, quickly hidden with Neutral Face.
Her hand froze, jerked down. She hadn't even realized she was touching it. "I... no. I'm fine." 'I'm always fine,' she mocked herself.
"No you're not. Some big nasty got a good hit in, eh?" He gave her a half grin. "Come on, Slayer. Who am I gonna tell? The wall, the floor, or the couch?"
She gave a small grin back. Rolled her eyes. "Fell off the training horse."
He cocked his head sideways, bringing the couch into partial view. "She fell of the training horse," he whispered conspiratorially. "Shhh. Don't tell the endtable, it's a secret."
She gave a half laugh. "I miss fighting with you."
"Are we talking verbal, or physical here, because I don't want to say anything embarrassing."
"I mean, I figure, if, when you get back to... version 2.0, you might not remember this anyway. But I miss fighting with you. Verbal." She tipped her head, considered. "Physical, too, but not as much."
He grinned. "Reeeeaally now? I thought I was the only one."
She snorted. "You take as well as you give. It's... fun to have an equal."
His grin got wider. "You know what? I've always thought so too. AND, verbally, anyway, you don't always win." He finished with a slight pout.
"Yes I do. I'm the Slayer. It's my JOB to win."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You all lose eventually. Got a bleedin' death wish, all of ya."
She shook her head slowly. "Not me. Not anymore."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You took care of that, didn't you?" He looked at her curiously. "Can you tell me something?"
"What?"
"I.. uh.. I know I'll probably never see it... so... What's heaven like?" He said this to the wall, but he was obviously talking to her.
Her eyes got hazy, unfocused, and she thought. "It's... not hot, and not cold. Just right. But there's always a breeze. And it... it smells like orange roses."
He looked at her, his head cocked to the side. "Thanks. At least now I can try and imagine it. When I was little, I'd be sitting in church, and half listening to the priest, but mostly I'd be looking at the stained glass windows, and trying to make them all look three dimensional, you know? Try to see what heaven would look like...." He trailed off, remembering. "Always thought it'd be like this big park. Full of love and happiness, and stuff. You know? With the saints milling around and lots of singing. I liked singing when I was little. I was in the choir."
She smiled. "I know. It is... happy. Easy. Things are softer there."
He nodded. "I know it's got to be wonderful. After all, Joyce is there, so it has to be perfect, or she'd be raggin' on the angels to clean it up," he said with a watery chuckle.
She smiled. "Yeah, Mom would..." She tilted her head. "Why don't... you think you'll ever be there?"
"I'm evil. A horrible thing. A vampire. Vampires don't go to heaven. Dogs do. Vampires don't. And because I don't deserve it."
She sat on the floor, close to the chair. "Can I tell you something?"
He glanced down at her, nodding slowly.
She said slowly, "I'm not good, either. I don't deserve heaven this time around. And there are no dogs in heaven. At least, not where I was."
"There aren't? Well then, I have a bone to pick with the movie industry. And you'll go back. You are good. You're the Slayer!"
She rested her arms on her knees. "The Slayer is fine. The woman is tarnished."
"You can't separate the two. It'd be like trying to separate the demon in me from the body. It can't be done. I'd be dust. The Slayer is a part of you. Like my demon is a part of me. We may not always like them, but we also can't get rid of them."
She looked up at him. "You're the only person to understand that."
He gave her a small smile. "We have a lot in common, Slayer. Always have."
"Yeah. Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"You've got a soul. Same as me, same as Dawn, same as Mom. You- despite stuff, are good most times."
Small snort. "Sins of the past, luv. That's what'll do it. But thanks anyway."
She shrugged. "You've helped save the world twice."
"I don't remember. I wish I did. But, I've taken hundreds... thousands of lives. Two averted apocalypses really don't stack up."
She shook her head. "You do so remember the first. Angelus. And sure. Five billion people, twice."
"Yeah, well. I could've helped you more that time. All I did was whack my grandsire with a pipe." He grinned. "Although I enjoyed it very much. And I'm glad you think so, luv. I really am. Believe it or not, your opinion has always meant something to me. Didn't start out as much, but it was something."
"I'm the Slayer, I'll probably die a hundred years before you anyway. I have pull up there. You will be in heaven, Spike. Maybe we can do something about the music, too."
He gave her a playful/hopeful look. "Bon Jovi, maybe?"
She took a gamble. "Slippery When Wet."
"Oh yeah. That's my favorite album of theirs. My favorite song's on that CD."
She had never asked her Spike. "Which one?"
"You Give Love A Bad Name." He chuckled. "Story of my life. And unlife."
She shook her head. "No kidding. Spike? Do you remember us talking... at the Bronze?"
"More specific, luv. We've talked there before. Of course, it usually ended with you hitting me..."
She winced. "Yeah. Um.... did it involve money?"
"Uh... Lemme think..." Shook his head slowly. "No. Unless you're talking about when I swiped Harris' wallet and bought hotwings, then no. Sorry." Gave a mental, 'DAMNIT!' "I really want to remember. There's so much I've lost. So much that I want to talk to you about, and it's just not there." Repressed snarl. "Bloody pissing me off..."
She shook her head, her hand almost touched his knee, pulled back. "It's ok. One day... You're gonna remember what I'm talking about. And I'm sorry. Remember that."
"That you're sorry about talking to me... with money?" Confused puppy face.
"I'm sorry about talking to you and throwing money."
Still confused, he chuckled. "Ok. But I would think throwing money would be good. At least for whoever catches it." He glanced at the wall clock. "Uh, luv? When were you going to meet the others?"
"Ten thirty. Why?"
"Cause it's 10:24."
She swore, stood quickly. She picked up the blanket that had fallen off Spike, tugged it over him again. "I gotta go."
He grinned. "Night, luv."
She headed out the door, paused, and called back, "Sleep well."
"I will. Have fun, Slayer."
She grinned. "Always." Shut the door.
========================================================================== ===========
Buffy caught up with Xander and Dawn close to Spike's cemetery. "Hey guys."
"Hey, Buff!", Xander said, twirling his short sword. He was getting really good at that. "Ready to kill some bad guys?"
Dawn sprinted to her sister. "What happened? Why wasn't I allowed to come home??"
Buffy took Dawn's shoulders, and looked into her eyes. Dawn was growing up, but she was still so young. "Nothing happened. I just.... didn't want Spike to yell at you again if you woke him up."
Xander looked concerned for an instant. "How's he doing?" Neutral face. "Pretend I care."
Relief flooded her sister's eyes, and Buffy felt her lie was justified. She smirked at Xander. "He's fine. Ya know, if you're pretending to care."
He snorted. "Of course I'm pretending. I hate Spike." Looked at the sister's expressions. "Really! I do!"
Buffy smiled, and led the way into the cemetery. "Yeah ya do. He's still not remembering well. No news."
Dawn frowned. "Maybe... Maybe we could all sit down and talk to him till he remembers."
Buffy smiled sadly. "It's not... not like that, Dawnie. It's not like you're dropping hints to the answer of a question until they get it right. The memories are NOT there, where he can find them, anyway. It's like a big wall they can't get around."
"Buffy's right, Dawn," Xander said. "Believe me. Giles has had me reading everything in English about vampire amnesia, and they all say that it fixes itself. It just takes time."
Dawn looked discouraged again. Buffy bumped their shoulders together. "Which Spike has like... plenty of. And we've got our fair share. Right?"
"Yeah," Dawn said half-heartedly. "Right."
"Come on, Dawn. Look at it this way. Now you get to make friends with him all over again."
She looked at Xander, hope in her huge eyes. "You really think so?"
Xander grinned. "Yeah. And, you have an advantage. You already know everything about him, so you know just how to talk to him and stuff."
She grinned. "Yeah. I'm gonna make popcorn when we get home, and hot chocolate, and watch Lethal Weapon with him." She smiled at Buffy. "Ok?"
Buffy gave a tense smile. "We'll see, Dawn."
-========================================================================= ===========
Meanwhile, back at the Summers home...
Spike was fighting dozing off. He really wanted to see what the bug that he had spotted on the wall would do next. It had already tried to climb over the light switch twice, two different ways, and he was hoping that it just might make it this time.
He shook his head, trying to clear away the sleepiness, but it wasn't working. He hadn't gotten much sleep that day, after all. Against his will, he dozed off...
...and woke up, or so he thought, still sitting in the same chair, only the chains were gone. And he had a sudden urge to go to the bathroom. Being a dream, it didn't seem as weird as it would later.
He got up, yawning, and headed up the stairs. When he got in the bathroom, the vampire was startled to see his reflection in the mirror. Pausing, he examined it. Hmm. He needed to bleach again. His roots were beginning to show. He got a strange feeling, as if he was being watched. He turned around to find that the back wall of the bathroom lead into one of the Initiative's observation rooms, and there were a bunch of scientists staring at him, taking notes.
"Uh... Sorry," he said to the scientists. "I'll, uh... Find another mirror." As he walked back out of the bathroom, he muttered, "I'm losing my mind..."
He stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next, since the urge to pee had passed as suddenly as it had come. When he heard the singing...
"The evening is coming The sun sinks to rest... The crows are all flying straight home to their nests... Caw says the crow as he flies overhead.... it's time little people were going to bed. The flowers are dozing, the daises asleep, the primrose are buried in slumber so deep closed for the night, are the roses so red... it's time little people were going to bed.. ", Joyce rocked the tiny bundle in her arms, singing softly. She looked up, smiled at Spike.
Tears were in his eyes. "Joyce... Uh.. I thought you were..." He looked at the bundle. "What's that?"
"Isn't it beautiful?" She whispered.
He cocked his head. "It's glowing."
She placed it carefully in his arms. "You have to be careful with it... it's your soul." The bundle glowed with a gold energy.
He stared down at it. "My... soul? But I thought I already-"
She smiled at him. "You had it? You have to nurture it, Spike... watch it grow."
He looked at it. "How? It's a glowy ball of... something. Not a pet."
She reached a finger in, as she would tap a baby's nose. "Treat it well. Don't abuse it."
He looked around, then down at the soul, then at Joyce. "Abuse it? I can't even see it... Uh.. well, most of the time anyway." Glanced around again. "Do I have to keep carrying it? It's getting heavy."
She patted his shoulder. "It seems heavy now. Once you get used to it, and treat it well, you'll barely even feel it."
He nodded, sort of understanding. "I... I've been wanting to talk to you lately. I don't... remember a lot of things. I fell, and-"
"Yes, dear, I know. But we really have to get going... We'll be late."
He followed her out the door. "Late? For what? If I see a white rabbit with a waist coat and a watch, I'm out of here, just so you know."
She linked an arm through his. "Late for everything." She wagged a finger at him. "You'll take this walk with me. Until I'm finished."
He grinned. "Don't worry, Joyce. You have my undivided attention..." He glanced behind them. "Except for the part of me that's wondering about the guy following us with a slice of cheese on his head..."
She turned, looked at the balding man wearing the cheese. "I told you, sir. The power of cheese is downstairs to the left." She huffed, leaned her head on Spike's shoulder. "Honestly. Some people."
Spike didn't mean to, but he snorted out a giggle. "The power... of cheese..?" Another snort.
She tilted her head towards him. "Young man, this is serious. I'll just throw the tiny marshmallows away if this is how you're going to be."
He cleared his throat, attempting to rid himself of the image of many balding men worshiping a cheese slice. "Sorry, Joyce. I know. I'll be good."
She gave him a motherly smile. "You were always a good boy, Spike."
He smiled. "Thanks." Then cocked his head. "But I was evil. I still can be. If I wanted to."
She patted his arm affectionately. "But you don't want to. I'd have to go get the fire axe again, and quite frankly, it was very heavy."
"And painful."
Shook her head considering. "Not really."
"I meant to me." He glanced around, as they were now suddenly outside. "Where are we going, anyway?"
"To see a man about a duck. Then we're going to play with your soul."
"A duck?" Then he glanced down at the bundle still in the crook of his other arm. "Oh. I forgot about it for a moment."
She smiled. "It's getting lighter already, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Specially when I don't think about old things."
She nodded. "Do you hurt Buffy to see if she bleeds?"
========================================================================== ========
Xander hit the ground in a deliberate roll, copying a move that he'd seen Buffy do on numerous occasions. The vampire hadn't been ready for the seemingly helpless prey to get up so quickly, and it still had a shocked look on it's face when Xander's sword took off it's head. "WHOO! Yeah! Last one." He glanced at his companions. "Who's tha man, huh? WHO'S the MAN!?"
Buffy laughed. "Umm... as the only one with any relevant testosterone, you the man."
Dawn smiled at her pile of dust in satisfaction. Kick to the groin, kick to the head, smart -ass remark, stake in, stake out, all in a day's work.
Xander snorted. "Rain on my parade, why don't you." He clapped Dawn on the back. "Whoa, Dawnster. That was some fancy stakin'. She has taught you well, Grasshopper. Wax on, wax off. Stake in, stake out. Very good." All this finished in a very fake Japanese accent.
Dawn laughed, smiled proudly. Buffy gave her a nod of approval. "Totally great slay."
"Come on, girls," Xander said, taking one on each arm. "There are still three cemeteries to patrol. And vamps to slay before we sleep. And vamps to slay before we sleep." He grinned. "Not exactly Robert Frost, but it's the Hellmouth version."
========================================================================== ========
"What do you mean by that, Joyce?", Spike said, slightly shocked.
She looked at him, ponderously. "Didn't you ever just want to know that she bled, too?"
"She's human. Of course she bleeds." The bundle in his arm gave a lurch, and seemed to get heaver again.
She frowned. "It's easier, lighter when you're honest, William."
He flinched. William again. She was either disappointed, or mad at him. "Sorry. Yeah. I guess I used to wonder about that. Not so much now, though." The soul quieted down and got lighter again.
She gazed at him. "The body isn't the only thing that bleeds, is it?"
He shook his head. "No. It isn't. I should know..." They were passing a very old looking building. Spike paused and looked in, just in time to see Cecily tell William that he was "beneath her". Tears rose up in his eyes. "*Bitch...*", he growled.
"William. Language." She turned her gaze to the woman. "Absolutely an atrocious whore."
He laughed out loud. "Thank you. And sorry."
Graceful smile, that was such an inherent part of Joyce. "Of course. What are you missing, Spike?"
"Missing?" He looked at himself. "Uh.. I think I have everything I'm supposed to have, Joyce." Glanced at the soul. "And one thing that I'm not supposed to have, but do anyway."
She shook her head. "Let's find what we came for, before we're late."
A white rabbit wearing a waist coat and carrying an oversized pocket watch ran by. "Oh, yes!", it cried. "We mustn't be late!"
Spike's eyes got big. "Ok. I am never reading that book again."
Joyce snorted. "Hmph. Last time he offered to take me to tea, but not this time." Sighed. "Come now... knock on the door."
"Door?" And there was a door, suddenly in front of them. No building, but a door. Spike shrugged, and released Joyce's arm to knock....
-============================================================
"...I'm just saying, any guy that invites you over for breakfast is up to something," Xander finished, twirling his sword absently.
She rolled her eyes. "Xander. His MOTHER asked me to breakfast, since I was doing something with my FAMILY that night."
Buffy smiled. "I think it's sweet."
"Yeah... well.. Maybe she's in on it," he said, grasping at the last straw on the camel.
Dawn rolled her eyes. "It was so sweet," she told Buffy, choosing to ignore Xander's comment. "I came over, ya know, and he was just... frowning at the stove, trying to make chocolate chip pancakes."
Buffy gave the appropriate "awww".
Xander just snorted, doing a very good Spike impression.
Both Summers' looked at him, the same eyebrow and identical 'ex-cuse me?' look on their faces.
Xander paused. "Did I just do what I think I did?"
"If you mean stick your foot in your mouth AND manage to make a distinct 'Spike' noise, then Survey says yes," Dawn shot off snottily.
"I meant the Spike noise. But, now that you mention it, I did notice the taste of Reeboks."
Dawn smiled and laced her arm through his. "It's ok. I forgive you."
He grinned and squeezed her arm. "Thanks, Dawnie. You know, it's a good thing that we can always talk everything out. And very good that we're not so distracted by personal matters that we missed the group of five vampires that are CHARGING OUT OF THE SHADOWS!!!" He dropped Dawn's arm and the three friends went into fight stances.
-==============================================================
Joyce gave Spike a gentle nudge to the door. "Go see what you're missing, Spike... it might be important. And remember, never drop it when it gets heavy."
He nodded, and knocked on the door, wondering what would answer it.
The door swung open, and a broken Buffy stood there. She didn't seem to know that she was-should have been-dead. "What are you missing?"
Spike started shaking. "I.. I don't know..." He reached out, putting one hand on Joyce's shoulder for support. "What.. what happened to you...?"
Buffy blinked, shrugged, and smiled at her mother. "I fell, but Mom caught me."
A flash of clear memory swam across Spike's mind, the first clear memory that wasn't from over three years earlier. A tower. Dawn. Doc. Free falling. Pain... Then it got worse. The Scoobies gathering. Buffy's body. Spike's soul began to shudder and get heavier again. "I failed. I could have.. Should have saved you... I'm so sorry, Buffy. I'm so sorry...." Tears rolled down his cheeks.
Buffy's head tilted to the side. "I never understood why you thought that. You didn't fail... All I ever asked of you was to save Dawn."
"And I didn't. I didn't stop Doc. I failed..."
Buffy and Joyce both laid hands on him. "Dawn breathes," Buffy said. "She shops, talks.."
"Loves, steals," Joyce gave Buffy a stern look. "That wasn't nice."
Spike turned his watery gaze on Joyce. "It's not her fault. Dawn learned it from watching me."
Joyce gave him a stern look. "Liberating things from Wal-Mart is not role-model behavior. However, Dawn did because she could. She didn't learn."
He ducked his head. "I was broke.... Wait. Didn't you say we were going to see a man about a duck? I haven't seen a duck yet."
Broken Buffy laughed. "Mom, you always used to say that when you took us someplace we didn't want to go."
Spike gave Joyce a suspicious look. "Are we going somewhere I don't want to go?"
She looked at him, her gaze holding his, Broken Buffy slowly dissolving. "Why else do you think you can't remember? You're afraid."
He started to give his normal answer, 'I'm not afraid of anything.', but stopped. Joyce could always see through him. "And what if I am?"
She took his hand, guided him down the hall. "There's a difference between fear, and paralysis from it. And if you let it paralyze you, you aren't worthy of my babies."
His back stiffened. "Fear has never paralyzed me, Joyce. I have fought things that made me want to curl up under my bed and never come out," he said defensively, allowing her to guide him.
Joyce stopped in the hall, dropped his hand, and wrapped her arms around him, being careful to not squish his swathed, glowing bundle.
Unsure of the reason for the sudden hug, but not wanting to pull away, he wrapped his free arm around her, his other arm occupied with the soul. "What's this for?"
She pulled back, her eyes smiling kindly into his. "I knew you'd never let me do this anywhere but a dream." She grabbed his hand, and continued down again. "Are you still missing something?"
"You. In the real world. I miss you." He knew he was talking to a memory, in a dream, but he just had to tell her.
She squeezed his hand more tightly. "I'm always there. I watch you all. Well, not ALL the time..." They drew up on another door, much like the one to his crypt. With her free hand, she placed one finger across his lips. "Shhh... go watch..."
He slowly opened the door, just in time to see another, less dead Buffy pin a doppleganger of himself up against one of the posts in his crypt. He cocked his head, looking back at Joyce. "Can they see us?"
A finger to her lips, she shook her head. "No... but listen."
He turned back, just in time to see DreamSpike and LivingBuffy suddenly locked in a passionate kiss. "Buffy...", DreamSpike moaned. "God. I love you... so much.." Then the scene changed, to Spike and Harmony, sleeping in bed, and Spike sat bolt upright, panting. "Oh god... Oh god no..."
Spike looked at Joyce again. "I knew this. She told me."
Joyce pointed at the changed scene.
The vampire turned around, and nearly threw up. The scene had changed to him and Harmony, and they were doing much more than making out. Only, Spike could also see his doppleganger's thoughts. DreamSpike wasn't even remotely thinking about Harmony. His thoughts were of nothing but Buffy. "What're you thinking about?", Harmony asked DreamSpike, panting.
"Only you, baby. Nothing but you..", DreamSpike lied as the crypt began to disappear in front of Spike, he jumped back, to find himself back in the hallway again, with Joyce.
He cleared his throat. "Ok. That was... interesting. What now?"
Joyce kept walking. "Well, how do you feel? That depends on what's next."
He trotted to catch up. "I feel... fine, I guess. A little nauseas from seeing Harm again, but..."
Joyce sighed. "Yes, but I do feel bad for her. She DID like you. I understand where you're coming from though. May I give you a piece of advice?"
He smiled at her. "Of course, Joyce."
A sound smack on the back of his head. "You stay away from those... those... trollops!"
He shook his head. He hadn't known that this was a full contact dream. "Ow! Ok, Joyce. God.. Where did you learn to hit so hard.. Never mind."
She snorted. "If you say that *I* got it from *Buffy*, you'll get another one. Now. Let's see.. where did I... Oh yes." She snapped her fingers, a new door popping up. "Ask it what you want to see."
He stared at it. "Talk... to the door? I don't speak to inanimate objects."
Small glare. "William."
He sighed. "Fine. Door, what do I want to see?"
She rubbed a hand at her temple. "TELL it, what you want to see... you know, a 'thy will be done' thing."
"I want to see something that I don't remember," he addressed the door. It opened, revealing Giles' living room, and yet another Spike and Buffy. Only this Spike was on one knee in front of her. "Say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth..."
Spike scrambled back from the door. "WHAT!!?" He looked at Joyce, as Buffy said yes and accepted his skull ring. "You have got to be kidding..."
Joyce cleared her throat, said sweetly, "Ahem... Mr. Door? Sir? We'd like to see what happened the moment the spell stopped, if you would, please."
"Sorry, Joyce. I was... shocked."
Spike could have sworn the door smiled. It closed, and reopened on the interior of a crypt, and Spike and Buffy kissing. Then the group of demons that were attacking the crypt stopped, and Spike and Buffy pulled apart, eyes wide. Buffy leaped up, wiping at her mouth. "Spike lips! Lips of Spike!", she howled. If there had been Lysol handy, she would have dipped her lips in it. Spike, for his part, rolled over, gagging. Then the door closed.
Spike stood there, the soul still light, but aching. He snorted, trying to hide the pain. " 'Lips of Spike' indeed."
Joyce, with her eyebrows raised, glanced at him, then the door, and back again. "Well?"
"Hurts. But I remember more, now."
She nudged him, gave the door a pointed glance... "Thank you?" she muttered quietly.
He looked at the door. "You've got to be kidding..." Noted her look. "Ok, ok. Thank you, Mr. Door." He turned back to Joyce. "I remembered the spell before. But the feeling... when it broke... I think I blocked it."
She smiled approvingly at him as the door vanished. Linked their arms. "Why did you block it?"
"Because I didn't want to admit what I'd felt. That I'd loved her. Even then. Dru was right, and I didn't want to see it."
Joyce nodded. "Buffy didn't have easy dreams for a month. Now... what next? What would you like to remember?"
He cocked his head. "After the soul. I've got everything... Up to right before I left. There's... something... Another wall. And it hurts."
"What do you remember, Spike?"
He closed his eyes as they walked along. "I went to the house. I wanted to... talk to her. To tell her... something... I don't remember. I went upstairs. I left my duster on the stair rail. I saw her in the bathroom. We talked... and then there's nothing."
She unlinked their arms, placed it over his bundle, giving him a firmer grip. She waved a hand in front of them, and they stood in the bathroom.
Spike looked at her. "I don't think I want to be here, Joyce. I really don't want to be here..."
Joyce said sadly, "No one wanted to be here."
He was trying to back toward the door. "I want to go home now. I really don't want to see this. I don't want to remember anymore..."
Joyce raised a hand and the door slammed shut, effectively sealing them in.
His eyes were wide, with that terrified trapped animal look. "Joyce! What're you doing? I DON'T WANT TO SEE THIS!!"
Her eyes were calm. "But you need to."
"No I don't. I don't want-"
Joyce's eyes filmed over with unshed tears. "You need to see what you both triumphed over."
As she spoke, the scene played out again. Spike and Buffy, appearing mid struggle, her crying out, and him heedless of what she said, continuing his assault anyway.
Spike cried out, moving toward his doppleganger, trying to help Buffy.
Joyce reached out a hand, and without even touching him, restrained him, forcing him to watch.
He whimpered, and pulled against the invisible restraints, tears streaming down his face.
Meanwhile, Buffy had managed to toss the other Spike against the wall. And he froze, not being able to believe what he had almost done. "Buffy I..."
"Get out..."
Spike sagged against the restraints as the scene faded away, falling to his knees, nearly dropping the soul.
Joyce's hands pushed it back into his.
"I can't... I didn't... I'm sorry...", he whimpered. "Oh God... I'm a horrible person."
Joyce knelt in front of him, pulling his head to her shoulder.
He cried onto her shoulder, as he had several times before. "I don't deserve to be a part of your family, Joyce. Let me wake up, and I'll stake myself. Rid the world of another monster."
"We're not finished yet," she told him gently. "You need to see more..."
========================================================================== =======
Dawn smiled. "Pasty and undead is REALLY not your color," she said earnestly to the last of the five attacking vamps. "Dust is more for you." Rammed the stake home.
Xander laughed. "Whoa, Dawn. You're getting as good at those quick remarks as your sister."
Buffy gave a petulant, "Hey!" while Dawn beamed.
"Really, though," Dawn said. "The only people- vamps, that I've ever seen look good pale are Druscilla and Spike."
Xander snorted, then backpedaled and sneezed. "Had to sneeze. Honest. No Spike noise."
Buffy half smiled a moment, thinking about how the moonlight used to shine off his marble abs, the way their skin contrasted but- "Huh?"
Dawn gave her a weird look. "What is wrong with you? All spacey and... lala for a minute."
"Ignore your sister, Dawnie. Her mind is elsewhere."
Buffy stammered out, "I- I was... tallying the body count."
Xander looked around. "Dust count, you mean. Man. All we've seen is vamps tonight. I was hoping for a little demon action."
Buffy glared at him. "Bite your tongue."
Just to be annoying, he did. "Ow."
Dawn laughed at him. "Retard."
"... dar.... I like wood. It's good. Dar..."
Buffy gave a small chuckle, hitting him in the shoulder.
Xander laughed, grabbing Buffy in a bear hug. "Apologize for hitting me, you mean person!"
She squealed. "Help! The big carpenter man is gonna get me!!!"
Xander made a very manufactured growling noise. "Don't make me use my secret weapon."
Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister, who returned the gesture. "And what would that be, He-man?"
"This." He went for the high spot on Buffy's ribs.
She squealed and laughed, trying to wriggle out of his arms.
He released her. "Now. Don't say I didn't warn you. Ms. Big, Tough Slayer Woman."
She ducked her head in a false show of humility. "I'm sorry, Mr. Big Scary Carpenter Man."
"Don't make me use my weapon again...", he threatened, wiggling his fingers at her playfully.
She nodded. "Never, ever again."
Dawn was laughing at their silliness.
Xander exchanged a look with Buffy. "But I didn't say anything about your little sister..." They both turned to her sister.
"Guys.... guys..... now, c'mon!"
========================================================================== ===========
Joyce tugged at Spike. "You have to get up... there's more I have to show."
He stood up shakily, and followed her. "Now what? Because I know it can't get any worse."
"Can you remember the trials?"
"A little. Fire. Demons. Beetles..." He shuddered. "I hate beetles."
She nodded. "Do you need to see them?"
He shook his head. "I really want to know about after them. When things got good... When she loved me..", he finished quietly.
Joyce led him to another door.
Spike sighed. "Excuse me, Mr. Door. Could you please show me something more recent that I don't remember?"
Joyce gave a disbelieving laugh. "Honestly Spike... It's just a door... open it."
He stared at her. "But.. the last one... Oh never mind. Bugger it all." He opened the door. He walked into his crypt, seeing himself crying on his bed, Buffy wrapped around his back, her hands clutching his. "I forgive you," she said, over and over.
He looked at the scene, then back at Joyce. "She forgave me? Even though I-"
Joyce smiled proudly. "My daughter has a large heart. Just like the man that holds it."
Spike blushed instantly, and found an interesting spot on the blanket that held his soul to stare at, a pleasant warmth flowing through him.
"Oh! Look!" Joyce pointed excitedly.
He looked up, nearly giving himself whiplash. "What!?"
Buffy sat curled on the bed now. Babbling in a list about something, the words tumbling from her before she could think to check them. "-I love Spike, I miss Tara..."
Both the real Spike, and the dream one had the identical goofy grin on their faces. "You what?", they said at once.
Spike actually did a dance. It was small, more like hopping in place, but it was there. "She loves me, she loves me, she loves me!", he kept babbling over and over, hugging his soul tight to his chest. "I knew it!"
Joyce smiled, and noticed that Dawn was now sitting on his couch. Talking to Dream Spike. Spike stopped his dance, blushing again, and turned to look at himself and Dawn on the couch.
Dawn's face took on a look of relieved joy when Spike told her reality was what you made of it... And it made her real. The scene faded again as the two began discussing Harmon.
"A monster," Joyce enunciated, "would never tell my baby something like that."
He looked at Joyce, and unknowingly quoted Xander. "Vampires are monsters. They make monster movies about them. I'm a vampire. That makes me a monster, doesn't it?"
She tilted her head. "Define 'vampire'."
"A demon possessed corpse that feeds off blood. Without a ... soul..." He cocked his head, regarding the bundle in his arms. "Uh.. Then what the hell am I?"
Joyce shrugged, quoting her daughter. "A human with a demon visage?"
He considered. "A little long, but it'll do, I guess. What's next?"
She reached into air, and pulled open a door. "You two have fought. Do you know that?"
He winced. "Fought... But I thought she-"
"Verbally."
"Oh. Yeah. That I knew." He regarded the door. "Is this one of the sensitive ones, or do I just open it?"
She smiled. "Go ahead. Open it."
He opened it, having to step up to go through, since it hadn't set itself on the ground yet. He turned and helped Joyce through it as well, then turned and regarded the new scene in front of him.
"I don't suppose you'll drop your jeans if I ask nicely." They watched Buffy wince, and tell him probably not.
Joyce leaned forward to whisper, "She cut herself and bled into a mug for you." She frowned. "And she lied about it."
He nodded. "I remember. I was so mad at her... But... Happy? Happy that she cared. Mad that she'd lied, and hurt herself. I didn't deserve it."
Joyce turned his eyes back to the scene, Buffy was yelling at Spike. "Damnit don't demean yourself." Buffy shook her head. "I can't promise to not. If you got hurt again, I'd do it again."
Spike watched, feeling the jumbled emotions that were coursing through him at that moment. Anger. Love. Slight fear. More love. More anger. He shook his head, looked at Joyce. "Is it always like this? Do we.. fight all the time?"
She shook her head. "Not always... sometimes when you two feel insecure, you do. But mostly you get along pretty well."
"We get along? I must still be missing some stuff."
Joyce smiled, snapped her fingers and watched the scene change. "I really like doing that."
He chuckled. "You're like Q from Star Trek... Uh, please don't tell anyone I said that, ok?"
She grinned. "Swear." Pointed. "See?" It was the Summers' living room, at night, Buffy was saying something, and rubbing his palms.
Spike grinned, remembering their game of Dare. "Yeah. That was a fun night. When she wasn't humiliating me."
"Awww... the dance was cute. And making her put Mr. Gordo in the oven? That was just.... evil, Spike."
"It was only for a second. Not even a second. And I wasn't talking about the dance. She made me beg." He snorted. "I don't beg for anyone."
Joyce smiled. "That's my girl. What else would you like, or not like, to see?"
He looked at her indignantly. "First I want an explanation, or an apology for the 'That's my girl', comment. That was horrible of her, torturing me like that."
Joyce gave a small laugh. "Come on. That was feminine brilliance. Using tickling AND herself to torture you? Any mother would be proud."
He tried to hide a smile. "It wasn't fair. She cheats."
Tried to repress a smile. "Don't we all."
Spike laughed. "Alright. Alright. You win. It was brilliant, ok? And maybe... JUST maybe, mind you, a little fun."
She linked their arms. "Of course... just a little. Now. Pick."
"Um... I don't know. What do the others think of me? They've all been so nice, lately. Specially Rupert. When did that happen?"
She gave a pondering frown. "I can't... I'm not allowed to show you that. I can only give you memories. But I can show you things..."
He nodded. "Ok. Lead on."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
Joyce closed the portal on Giles telling Spike to rest up, get better. "Anything else you've missed?"
He thought. "I don't know. I can't remember. You're supposed to be my guide. So guide me. What's next?"
Joyce frowned. "I don't know how... legal this is, but... you should know." She opened a new door. "You got very sick. Had a vampire flu. My daughters took good care of you. But one day," she intoned as they started in his dream, "you were dreaming..."
A dark room. Looking like one of the rooms in the old Crawford Street mansion. Spike, chained to a post, and Buffy, chained opposite him, unconscious, bleeding from many wounds. Druscilla walked in from the shadows. "Now, my Spike," the insane vampiress purred, cupping his cheek gently. "You still have the Slayer floating all about you. We have to do something about that..."
"Dru, come on," the chained Spike said. "She has nothing to do with this. If I weren't chained up, I'd kill her in a second."
Dru pouted, and raked her claw-like fingernails across his cheek, drawing blood. "I think you are lying, Spike. You know I hate lying. You are a naughty boy." She turned, and ran a dagger across the unconscious Slayer's arm, making a deep slash. Both Spike's bit their lips to keep from crying out.
"Come on, Dru!", the chained Spike called imploringly. "Pet, really. I don't care about her. I didn't mean a thing I said. It was all a... game! A game, to see how long it would take to get in with her and her pals, so I could take all of them down from the inside. You know I love you, Dru. Only you."
Dru turned, her fangs flashing. "Lies." She turned, and in one smooth motion, slashed the Slayer's throat.
"NOOOOOO!", the real Spike cried, charging into the dream as it disappeared. He froze. Then turned, looking confusedly at Joyce.
Joyce shrugged. "That's all even YOU remember. But Buffy heard... She heard what you said to Druscilla, about only loving her. How it was a joke."
Spike's eyes got huge. "Oh no."
Joyce directed his gaze to the new scene being set, Buffy slamming mugs down, walking out. Spike on the couch, holding in tears.
He looked at Joyce. "She hates me again."
Dawn came in, chatting with Spike, leaving, then returning. Joyce stayed silent.
Spike turned back, wondering what was next.
"Grow some," the teenager enunciated.
Joyce's eyes grew wide. "That girl-"
"-Is her mother's daughter, Joyce," Spike said with a laugh.
She cast him a look, then nodded grudgingly. "She really is. But watch."
He chuckled, and watched the scene again.
Spike was on the couch, reading, slowly dozing off.
He looked at the book. "Gone With The Wind... Why? Oh, yeah. It's one of Buffy's favorite movies."
Joyce thought it was a very sweet gesture. Her angry daughter swept in the house, into the living room. Removed his book and glasses, tried to go upstairs.
Spike woke up, called mentally to her.
She rounded on him.
They spoke for a few moments, Spike trying to explain, then he hit on an idea. Reaffirming the claim would allow her into his mind, and he had been meaning to do some cleaning in there anyway.
Joyce said softly, "She wanted to go so badly. She didn't want to cry in front of you. Let you see how badly it hurt."
He nodded. "But we had both promised, no more walking away."
She smiled sadly. "She didn't care at that point. The only thing keeping her there was you."
They watched as Buffy and Spike settled on the couch. When Buffy removed her shirt, Spike, much like his counterpart on the couch, averted his eyes. Only the "real" Spike had a rose colored blush creeping up his cheeks.
Joyce tilted her head to stare off at an interesting part of the wall.
"*Me in you...*" "You in me.." "*Always..*" "*Forever..*" The two on the couch stayed like that, frozen, attached to each other by their mouths and hands. And Dawn, in her Hello Kitty pajamas, slowly descended the stairs. Her eyes got big, and she quickly turned around, going back up twice as fast as she'd gone down. The scene faded as they pulled apart, and Buffy began nibbling at Spike's neck in a way that had nothing to do with claiming.
Spike glanced at Joyce, embarrassed. Joyce had turned all the way around now. "Sorry...", the blushing vampire said.
She smiled. "I'm not. You make her happy, when you're not frustrating the heck out of her."
He grinned at her. "Joyce, there's somethin' I've been wanting to ask you. Well, two things, actually."
She turned her head to smile at him. "Yes?"
He walked until he was standing next to her. "One, am I your favorite of all Buffy's boyfriends?"
She ran the back of her hand down his cheek. "Of course." As though it was odd of him to assume otherwise.
He gave a happy purr. A different pitch than the one he used for Buffy. This one meant family type love. "Thanks. And two, since you're the only one who knew, and Buffy just upped and showed a prowess for it one day, did you tell her that I'm ticklish? Because I didn't, and she knew anyway. So, did you tell her?"
Joyce tilted her head, thought. "No. We didn't talk much about you, unless it was very loud and angry. She always worried over me."
He chuckled. "Ok. Fair enough. I wonder how she knew, though."
"My daughter is very smart."
"I knew that. And don't use woman's intuition as an excuse. That is a very personal thing, you know. I was embarrassed enough when you figured it out. Although," he said, smiling at the memory. "You did make me feel a lot better that day. Don't know if I've ever thanked you for that."
She patted him. "You're very welcome." Her head cocked to the side, as if listening to something in her head. "I think you know everything you need to."
He nodded, but looked sad. "I.. Don't want to leave you, Joyce. I miss you so much. It hurts. And I'm sorry that I wasn't at the funeral. I didn't even know...." He sniffled.
She smiled fondly at him. "I know you don't. I don't mind. I want you to know... Buffy... took it very hard. She didn't think beyond keeping it together for Dawn... I'm sorry no one else told you."
He wrapped her in a tight hug. "I know.. I wasn't even... No one cared then, anyway." He allowed the tears to fall on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, so much deeper in person than the lingering traces on the couch and some blankets. "I really miss you..."
She squeezed him back, equally tight. "I'm always there, if you want to talk, or have some cocoa. Buffy was right..." She touched the charm on his necklace. "I did want that for you."
He nuzzled her gently, fingering the charm. "Thank you, Joyce." He could feel himself starting to wake up, and tried to hold onto the dream a little longer.
She kissed him gently, motherly, on the lips. "I love you, William. But you have to wake up... you're going to be late."
"For what?", he asked, trying to ignore the fading of the dream.
"... going to be late..." echoed dimly in his head.
"I love you, Joyce!", he called into the fading dream, praying that she'd hear him. Knowing that this had been more than a dream.
"... always love you, William..." The dream state was rapidly dissipating.
Spike woke up, still chained to the chair, nothing in the room had changed, save for the very identity of the sole occupant. Spike was back. He grinned to himself, thinking how happy Buffy would be when she got home. Then he felt something. A pull. A cry of fear, pain, coming through the claim bond, followed by a singular feeling of hopeless terror...
"If you could only see the way, She loves me, Then maybe you would understand, Why I feel this way about, Our love, And what I must do, If you could only see how blue, Her eyes can be When she says... When she says she loves me...", Spike sang softly to himself, heedless of the Slayer descending the stairs. He continued humming the song, being unable to remember the rest of the words.
She walked to the doorway, pulling on a pair of shoes, then stepped into the living room.
Spike had his eyes closed, but he now knew she was there. "Evenin', Slayer," he said quietly, stopping his humming.
Her arms were hugging her sides, and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tried again. "I'm going patrolling."
His eyes opened and he looked at her, shifting slightly, rather, as much as the chains allowed him to shift. "Kill a few nasties for me." He looked at her, and his look softened slightly. She looked... lonely. "Uh, you goin' alone?"
"I will," she muttered, knowing she'd be a slaughterhouse tonight. THIS was the kind of release she was accustomed to. She was still far from him. In her mind, it was a safe distance. "No... Dawn and Xander are going with me."
He nodded. "Good that you're not goin' alone." Stared at the wall absently. "Ever thought of getting a painting or something for that wall? It needs something to look at."
Her eyes jerked to the bare wall. "Used to have a sculpture, but... It had some magic inclination. We had to get rid of it." She shrugged. "Willow, ya know."
"The addiction thing you told me about, right?" He considered the wall again. "Still... it needs something. Like... I dunno. A mountain scene. Rivers, rolling hills. Maybe a horse. I wonder if I remember how to paint..."
Buffy shrugged. "You're going to be alone most of the night. Till Giles or I get home."
He nodded. "I know. I'll just take a nap. I didn't get much sleep today."
"All right." She sighed. "Look. I just told Giles to come over about one. I didn't tell him anything. So... you'd be wise to keep your mouth shut till I get home."
He nodded again. "Look, Slayer... I.. uh.. I know you have your reasons for doing this, and I understand. I just want you to know that I hope I remember everything soon, because, the Spike you keep telling me about? He's really lucky. And I'm starting to see that."
Her bottom lip shook. Swallowed, firmed it, bit it. "Yeah. He is."
He looked back to the wall. "I just thought you should know that I'm trying. And that I'm sorry that I took him away from you. I... I know how much it hurts to have someone you love so close, and yet so far away."
She nodded, waited till she trusted her voice to say, "You didn't take him away."
"Yeah I did. I'm here. He's not. And I'm sorry it hurts you. If it helps, I do care about you. And the others... Well, most of them, anyway."
She almost smiled. The corners of her lips twitched up for a short second. "It helps, and it hurts." Bracing sigh. "Do you... want anything? Blood? We might... have some wings. I have some time before I have to meet them."
He shook his head. "I ate enough this afternoon to take me into tomorrow because I knew you were going out tonight. I'll be fine if you want to leave. I know I... freak you out, for want of a better term."
One hand left her ribs to absently rub a yellowing bruise. "I... ok."
"You hurt?" Concerned look, quickly hidden with Neutral Face.
Her hand froze, jerked down. She hadn't even realized she was touching it. "I... no. I'm fine." 'I'm always fine,' she mocked herself.
"No you're not. Some big nasty got a good hit in, eh?" He gave her a half grin. "Come on, Slayer. Who am I gonna tell? The wall, the floor, or the couch?"
She gave a small grin back. Rolled her eyes. "Fell off the training horse."
He cocked his head sideways, bringing the couch into partial view. "She fell of the training horse," he whispered conspiratorially. "Shhh. Don't tell the endtable, it's a secret."
She gave a half laugh. "I miss fighting with you."
"Are we talking verbal, or physical here, because I don't want to say anything embarrassing."
"I mean, I figure, if, when you get back to... version 2.0, you might not remember this anyway. But I miss fighting with you. Verbal." She tipped her head, considered. "Physical, too, but not as much."
He grinned. "Reeeeaally now? I thought I was the only one."
She snorted. "You take as well as you give. It's... fun to have an equal."
His grin got wider. "You know what? I've always thought so too. AND, verbally, anyway, you don't always win." He finished with a slight pout.
"Yes I do. I'm the Slayer. It's my JOB to win."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You all lose eventually. Got a bleedin' death wish, all of ya."
She shook her head slowly. "Not me. Not anymore."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You took care of that, didn't you?" He looked at her curiously. "Can you tell me something?"
"What?"
"I.. uh.. I know I'll probably never see it... so... What's heaven like?" He said this to the wall, but he was obviously talking to her.
Her eyes got hazy, unfocused, and she thought. "It's... not hot, and not cold. Just right. But there's always a breeze. And it... it smells like orange roses."
He looked at her, his head cocked to the side. "Thanks. At least now I can try and imagine it. When I was little, I'd be sitting in church, and half listening to the priest, but mostly I'd be looking at the stained glass windows, and trying to make them all look three dimensional, you know? Try to see what heaven would look like...." He trailed off, remembering. "Always thought it'd be like this big park. Full of love and happiness, and stuff. You know? With the saints milling around and lots of singing. I liked singing when I was little. I was in the choir."
She smiled. "I know. It is... happy. Easy. Things are softer there."
He nodded. "I know it's got to be wonderful. After all, Joyce is there, so it has to be perfect, or she'd be raggin' on the angels to clean it up," he said with a watery chuckle.
She smiled. "Yeah, Mom would..." She tilted her head. "Why don't... you think you'll ever be there?"
"I'm evil. A horrible thing. A vampire. Vampires don't go to heaven. Dogs do. Vampires don't. And because I don't deserve it."
She sat on the floor, close to the chair. "Can I tell you something?"
He glanced down at her, nodding slowly.
She said slowly, "I'm not good, either. I don't deserve heaven this time around. And there are no dogs in heaven. At least, not where I was."
"There aren't? Well then, I have a bone to pick with the movie industry. And you'll go back. You are good. You're the Slayer!"
She rested her arms on her knees. "The Slayer is fine. The woman is tarnished."
"You can't separate the two. It'd be like trying to separate the demon in me from the body. It can't be done. I'd be dust. The Slayer is a part of you. Like my demon is a part of me. We may not always like them, but we also can't get rid of them."
She looked up at him. "You're the only person to understand that."
He gave her a small smile. "We have a lot in common, Slayer. Always have."
"Yeah. Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"You've got a soul. Same as me, same as Dawn, same as Mom. You- despite stuff, are good most times."
Small snort. "Sins of the past, luv. That's what'll do it. But thanks anyway."
She shrugged. "You've helped save the world twice."
"I don't remember. I wish I did. But, I've taken hundreds... thousands of lives. Two averted apocalypses really don't stack up."
She shook her head. "You do so remember the first. Angelus. And sure. Five billion people, twice."
"Yeah, well. I could've helped you more that time. All I did was whack my grandsire with a pipe." He grinned. "Although I enjoyed it very much. And I'm glad you think so, luv. I really am. Believe it or not, your opinion has always meant something to me. Didn't start out as much, but it was something."
"I'm the Slayer, I'll probably die a hundred years before you anyway. I have pull up there. You will be in heaven, Spike. Maybe we can do something about the music, too."
He gave her a playful/hopeful look. "Bon Jovi, maybe?"
She took a gamble. "Slippery When Wet."
"Oh yeah. That's my favorite album of theirs. My favorite song's on that CD."
She had never asked her Spike. "Which one?"
"You Give Love A Bad Name." He chuckled. "Story of my life. And unlife."
She shook her head. "No kidding. Spike? Do you remember us talking... at the Bronze?"
"More specific, luv. We've talked there before. Of course, it usually ended with you hitting me..."
She winced. "Yeah. Um.... did it involve money?"
"Uh... Lemme think..." Shook his head slowly. "No. Unless you're talking about when I swiped Harris' wallet and bought hotwings, then no. Sorry." Gave a mental, 'DAMNIT!' "I really want to remember. There's so much I've lost. So much that I want to talk to you about, and it's just not there." Repressed snarl. "Bloody pissing me off..."
She shook her head, her hand almost touched his knee, pulled back. "It's ok. One day... You're gonna remember what I'm talking about. And I'm sorry. Remember that."
"That you're sorry about talking to me... with money?" Confused puppy face.
"I'm sorry about talking to you and throwing money."
Still confused, he chuckled. "Ok. But I would think throwing money would be good. At least for whoever catches it." He glanced at the wall clock. "Uh, luv? When were you going to meet the others?"
"Ten thirty. Why?"
"Cause it's 10:24."
She swore, stood quickly. She picked up the blanket that had fallen off Spike, tugged it over him again. "I gotta go."
He grinned. "Night, luv."
She headed out the door, paused, and called back, "Sleep well."
"I will. Have fun, Slayer."
She grinned. "Always." Shut the door.
========================================================================== ===========
Buffy caught up with Xander and Dawn close to Spike's cemetery. "Hey guys."
"Hey, Buff!", Xander said, twirling his short sword. He was getting really good at that. "Ready to kill some bad guys?"
Dawn sprinted to her sister. "What happened? Why wasn't I allowed to come home??"
Buffy took Dawn's shoulders, and looked into her eyes. Dawn was growing up, but she was still so young. "Nothing happened. I just.... didn't want Spike to yell at you again if you woke him up."
Xander looked concerned for an instant. "How's he doing?" Neutral face. "Pretend I care."
Relief flooded her sister's eyes, and Buffy felt her lie was justified. She smirked at Xander. "He's fine. Ya know, if you're pretending to care."
He snorted. "Of course I'm pretending. I hate Spike." Looked at the sister's expressions. "Really! I do!"
Buffy smiled, and led the way into the cemetery. "Yeah ya do. He's still not remembering well. No news."
Dawn frowned. "Maybe... Maybe we could all sit down and talk to him till he remembers."
Buffy smiled sadly. "It's not... not like that, Dawnie. It's not like you're dropping hints to the answer of a question until they get it right. The memories are NOT there, where he can find them, anyway. It's like a big wall they can't get around."
"Buffy's right, Dawn," Xander said. "Believe me. Giles has had me reading everything in English about vampire amnesia, and they all say that it fixes itself. It just takes time."
Dawn looked discouraged again. Buffy bumped their shoulders together. "Which Spike has like... plenty of. And we've got our fair share. Right?"
"Yeah," Dawn said half-heartedly. "Right."
"Come on, Dawn. Look at it this way. Now you get to make friends with him all over again."
She looked at Xander, hope in her huge eyes. "You really think so?"
Xander grinned. "Yeah. And, you have an advantage. You already know everything about him, so you know just how to talk to him and stuff."
She grinned. "Yeah. I'm gonna make popcorn when we get home, and hot chocolate, and watch Lethal Weapon with him." She smiled at Buffy. "Ok?"
Buffy gave a tense smile. "We'll see, Dawn."
-========================================================================= ===========
Meanwhile, back at the Summers home...
Spike was fighting dozing off. He really wanted to see what the bug that he had spotted on the wall would do next. It had already tried to climb over the light switch twice, two different ways, and he was hoping that it just might make it this time.
He shook his head, trying to clear away the sleepiness, but it wasn't working. He hadn't gotten much sleep that day, after all. Against his will, he dozed off...
...and woke up, or so he thought, still sitting in the same chair, only the chains were gone. And he had a sudden urge to go to the bathroom. Being a dream, it didn't seem as weird as it would later.
He got up, yawning, and headed up the stairs. When he got in the bathroom, the vampire was startled to see his reflection in the mirror. Pausing, he examined it. Hmm. He needed to bleach again. His roots were beginning to show. He got a strange feeling, as if he was being watched. He turned around to find that the back wall of the bathroom lead into one of the Initiative's observation rooms, and there were a bunch of scientists staring at him, taking notes.
"Uh... Sorry," he said to the scientists. "I'll, uh... Find another mirror." As he walked back out of the bathroom, he muttered, "I'm losing my mind..."
He stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next, since the urge to pee had passed as suddenly as it had come. When he heard the singing...
"The evening is coming The sun sinks to rest... The crows are all flying straight home to their nests... Caw says the crow as he flies overhead.... it's time little people were going to bed. The flowers are dozing, the daises asleep, the primrose are buried in slumber so deep closed for the night, are the roses so red... it's time little people were going to bed.. ", Joyce rocked the tiny bundle in her arms, singing softly. She looked up, smiled at Spike.
Tears were in his eyes. "Joyce... Uh.. I thought you were..." He looked at the bundle. "What's that?"
"Isn't it beautiful?" She whispered.
He cocked his head. "It's glowing."
She placed it carefully in his arms. "You have to be careful with it... it's your soul." The bundle glowed with a gold energy.
He stared down at it. "My... soul? But I thought I already-"
She smiled at him. "You had it? You have to nurture it, Spike... watch it grow."
He looked at it. "How? It's a glowy ball of... something. Not a pet."
She reached a finger in, as she would tap a baby's nose. "Treat it well. Don't abuse it."
He looked around, then down at the soul, then at Joyce. "Abuse it? I can't even see it... Uh.. well, most of the time anyway." Glanced around again. "Do I have to keep carrying it? It's getting heavy."
She patted his shoulder. "It seems heavy now. Once you get used to it, and treat it well, you'll barely even feel it."
He nodded, sort of understanding. "I... I've been wanting to talk to you lately. I don't... remember a lot of things. I fell, and-"
"Yes, dear, I know. But we really have to get going... We'll be late."
He followed her out the door. "Late? For what? If I see a white rabbit with a waist coat and a watch, I'm out of here, just so you know."
She linked an arm through his. "Late for everything." She wagged a finger at him. "You'll take this walk with me. Until I'm finished."
He grinned. "Don't worry, Joyce. You have my undivided attention..." He glanced behind them. "Except for the part of me that's wondering about the guy following us with a slice of cheese on his head..."
She turned, looked at the balding man wearing the cheese. "I told you, sir. The power of cheese is downstairs to the left." She huffed, leaned her head on Spike's shoulder. "Honestly. Some people."
Spike didn't mean to, but he snorted out a giggle. "The power... of cheese..?" Another snort.
She tilted her head towards him. "Young man, this is serious. I'll just throw the tiny marshmallows away if this is how you're going to be."
He cleared his throat, attempting to rid himself of the image of many balding men worshiping a cheese slice. "Sorry, Joyce. I know. I'll be good."
She gave him a motherly smile. "You were always a good boy, Spike."
He smiled. "Thanks." Then cocked his head. "But I was evil. I still can be. If I wanted to."
She patted his arm affectionately. "But you don't want to. I'd have to go get the fire axe again, and quite frankly, it was very heavy."
"And painful."
Shook her head considering. "Not really."
"I meant to me." He glanced around, as they were now suddenly outside. "Where are we going, anyway?"
"To see a man about a duck. Then we're going to play with your soul."
"A duck?" Then he glanced down at the bundle still in the crook of his other arm. "Oh. I forgot about it for a moment."
She smiled. "It's getting lighter already, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Specially when I don't think about old things."
She nodded. "Do you hurt Buffy to see if she bleeds?"
========================================================================== ========
Xander hit the ground in a deliberate roll, copying a move that he'd seen Buffy do on numerous occasions. The vampire hadn't been ready for the seemingly helpless prey to get up so quickly, and it still had a shocked look on it's face when Xander's sword took off it's head. "WHOO! Yeah! Last one." He glanced at his companions. "Who's tha man, huh? WHO'S the MAN!?"
Buffy laughed. "Umm... as the only one with any relevant testosterone, you the man."
Dawn smiled at her pile of dust in satisfaction. Kick to the groin, kick to the head, smart -ass remark, stake in, stake out, all in a day's work.
Xander snorted. "Rain on my parade, why don't you." He clapped Dawn on the back. "Whoa, Dawnster. That was some fancy stakin'. She has taught you well, Grasshopper. Wax on, wax off. Stake in, stake out. Very good." All this finished in a very fake Japanese accent.
Dawn laughed, smiled proudly. Buffy gave her a nod of approval. "Totally great slay."
"Come on, girls," Xander said, taking one on each arm. "There are still three cemeteries to patrol. And vamps to slay before we sleep. And vamps to slay before we sleep." He grinned. "Not exactly Robert Frost, but it's the Hellmouth version."
========================================================================== ========
"What do you mean by that, Joyce?", Spike said, slightly shocked.
She looked at him, ponderously. "Didn't you ever just want to know that she bled, too?"
"She's human. Of course she bleeds." The bundle in his arm gave a lurch, and seemed to get heaver again.
She frowned. "It's easier, lighter when you're honest, William."
He flinched. William again. She was either disappointed, or mad at him. "Sorry. Yeah. I guess I used to wonder about that. Not so much now, though." The soul quieted down and got lighter again.
She gazed at him. "The body isn't the only thing that bleeds, is it?"
He shook his head. "No. It isn't. I should know..." They were passing a very old looking building. Spike paused and looked in, just in time to see Cecily tell William that he was "beneath her". Tears rose up in his eyes. "*Bitch...*", he growled.
"William. Language." She turned her gaze to the woman. "Absolutely an atrocious whore."
He laughed out loud. "Thank you. And sorry."
Graceful smile, that was such an inherent part of Joyce. "Of course. What are you missing, Spike?"
"Missing?" He looked at himself. "Uh.. I think I have everything I'm supposed to have, Joyce." Glanced at the soul. "And one thing that I'm not supposed to have, but do anyway."
She shook her head. "Let's find what we came for, before we're late."
A white rabbit wearing a waist coat and carrying an oversized pocket watch ran by. "Oh, yes!", it cried. "We mustn't be late!"
Spike's eyes got big. "Ok. I am never reading that book again."
Joyce snorted. "Hmph. Last time he offered to take me to tea, but not this time." Sighed. "Come now... knock on the door."
"Door?" And there was a door, suddenly in front of them. No building, but a door. Spike shrugged, and released Joyce's arm to knock....
-============================================================
"...I'm just saying, any guy that invites you over for breakfast is up to something," Xander finished, twirling his sword absently.
She rolled her eyes. "Xander. His MOTHER asked me to breakfast, since I was doing something with my FAMILY that night."
Buffy smiled. "I think it's sweet."
"Yeah... well.. Maybe she's in on it," he said, grasping at the last straw on the camel.
Dawn rolled her eyes. "It was so sweet," she told Buffy, choosing to ignore Xander's comment. "I came over, ya know, and he was just... frowning at the stove, trying to make chocolate chip pancakes."
Buffy gave the appropriate "awww".
Xander just snorted, doing a very good Spike impression.
Both Summers' looked at him, the same eyebrow and identical 'ex-cuse me?' look on their faces.
Xander paused. "Did I just do what I think I did?"
"If you mean stick your foot in your mouth AND manage to make a distinct 'Spike' noise, then Survey says yes," Dawn shot off snottily.
"I meant the Spike noise. But, now that you mention it, I did notice the taste of Reeboks."
Dawn smiled and laced her arm through his. "It's ok. I forgive you."
He grinned and squeezed her arm. "Thanks, Dawnie. You know, it's a good thing that we can always talk everything out. And very good that we're not so distracted by personal matters that we missed the group of five vampires that are CHARGING OUT OF THE SHADOWS!!!" He dropped Dawn's arm and the three friends went into fight stances.
-==============================================================
Joyce gave Spike a gentle nudge to the door. "Go see what you're missing, Spike... it might be important. And remember, never drop it when it gets heavy."
He nodded, and knocked on the door, wondering what would answer it.
The door swung open, and a broken Buffy stood there. She didn't seem to know that she was-should have been-dead. "What are you missing?"
Spike started shaking. "I.. I don't know..." He reached out, putting one hand on Joyce's shoulder for support. "What.. what happened to you...?"
Buffy blinked, shrugged, and smiled at her mother. "I fell, but Mom caught me."
A flash of clear memory swam across Spike's mind, the first clear memory that wasn't from over three years earlier. A tower. Dawn. Doc. Free falling. Pain... Then it got worse. The Scoobies gathering. Buffy's body. Spike's soul began to shudder and get heavier again. "I failed. I could have.. Should have saved you... I'm so sorry, Buffy. I'm so sorry...." Tears rolled down his cheeks.
Buffy's head tilted to the side. "I never understood why you thought that. You didn't fail... All I ever asked of you was to save Dawn."
"And I didn't. I didn't stop Doc. I failed..."
Buffy and Joyce both laid hands on him. "Dawn breathes," Buffy said. "She shops, talks.."
"Loves, steals," Joyce gave Buffy a stern look. "That wasn't nice."
Spike turned his watery gaze on Joyce. "It's not her fault. Dawn learned it from watching me."
Joyce gave him a stern look. "Liberating things from Wal-Mart is not role-model behavior. However, Dawn did because she could. She didn't learn."
He ducked his head. "I was broke.... Wait. Didn't you say we were going to see a man about a duck? I haven't seen a duck yet."
Broken Buffy laughed. "Mom, you always used to say that when you took us someplace we didn't want to go."
Spike gave Joyce a suspicious look. "Are we going somewhere I don't want to go?"
She looked at him, her gaze holding his, Broken Buffy slowly dissolving. "Why else do you think you can't remember? You're afraid."
He started to give his normal answer, 'I'm not afraid of anything.', but stopped. Joyce could always see through him. "And what if I am?"
She took his hand, guided him down the hall. "There's a difference between fear, and paralysis from it. And if you let it paralyze you, you aren't worthy of my babies."
His back stiffened. "Fear has never paralyzed me, Joyce. I have fought things that made me want to curl up under my bed and never come out," he said defensively, allowing her to guide him.
Joyce stopped in the hall, dropped his hand, and wrapped her arms around him, being careful to not squish his swathed, glowing bundle.
Unsure of the reason for the sudden hug, but not wanting to pull away, he wrapped his free arm around her, his other arm occupied with the soul. "What's this for?"
She pulled back, her eyes smiling kindly into his. "I knew you'd never let me do this anywhere but a dream." She grabbed his hand, and continued down again. "Are you still missing something?"
"You. In the real world. I miss you." He knew he was talking to a memory, in a dream, but he just had to tell her.
She squeezed his hand more tightly. "I'm always there. I watch you all. Well, not ALL the time..." They drew up on another door, much like the one to his crypt. With her free hand, she placed one finger across his lips. "Shhh... go watch..."
He slowly opened the door, just in time to see another, less dead Buffy pin a doppleganger of himself up against one of the posts in his crypt. He cocked his head, looking back at Joyce. "Can they see us?"
A finger to her lips, she shook her head. "No... but listen."
He turned back, just in time to see DreamSpike and LivingBuffy suddenly locked in a passionate kiss. "Buffy...", DreamSpike moaned. "God. I love you... so much.." Then the scene changed, to Spike and Harmony, sleeping in bed, and Spike sat bolt upright, panting. "Oh god... Oh god no..."
Spike looked at Joyce again. "I knew this. She told me."
Joyce pointed at the changed scene.
The vampire turned around, and nearly threw up. The scene had changed to him and Harmony, and they were doing much more than making out. Only, Spike could also see his doppleganger's thoughts. DreamSpike wasn't even remotely thinking about Harmony. His thoughts were of nothing but Buffy. "What're you thinking about?", Harmony asked DreamSpike, panting.
"Only you, baby. Nothing but you..", DreamSpike lied as the crypt began to disappear in front of Spike, he jumped back, to find himself back in the hallway again, with Joyce.
He cleared his throat. "Ok. That was... interesting. What now?"
Joyce kept walking. "Well, how do you feel? That depends on what's next."
He trotted to catch up. "I feel... fine, I guess. A little nauseas from seeing Harm again, but..."
Joyce sighed. "Yes, but I do feel bad for her. She DID like you. I understand where you're coming from though. May I give you a piece of advice?"
He smiled at her. "Of course, Joyce."
A sound smack on the back of his head. "You stay away from those... those... trollops!"
He shook his head. He hadn't known that this was a full contact dream. "Ow! Ok, Joyce. God.. Where did you learn to hit so hard.. Never mind."
She snorted. "If you say that *I* got it from *Buffy*, you'll get another one. Now. Let's see.. where did I... Oh yes." She snapped her fingers, a new door popping up. "Ask it what you want to see."
He stared at it. "Talk... to the door? I don't speak to inanimate objects."
Small glare. "William."
He sighed. "Fine. Door, what do I want to see?"
She rubbed a hand at her temple. "TELL it, what you want to see... you know, a 'thy will be done' thing."
"I want to see something that I don't remember," he addressed the door. It opened, revealing Giles' living room, and yet another Spike and Buffy. Only this Spike was on one knee in front of her. "Say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth..."
Spike scrambled back from the door. "WHAT!!?" He looked at Joyce, as Buffy said yes and accepted his skull ring. "You have got to be kidding..."
Joyce cleared her throat, said sweetly, "Ahem... Mr. Door? Sir? We'd like to see what happened the moment the spell stopped, if you would, please."
"Sorry, Joyce. I was... shocked."
Spike could have sworn the door smiled. It closed, and reopened on the interior of a crypt, and Spike and Buffy kissing. Then the group of demons that were attacking the crypt stopped, and Spike and Buffy pulled apart, eyes wide. Buffy leaped up, wiping at her mouth. "Spike lips! Lips of Spike!", she howled. If there had been Lysol handy, she would have dipped her lips in it. Spike, for his part, rolled over, gagging. Then the door closed.
Spike stood there, the soul still light, but aching. He snorted, trying to hide the pain. " 'Lips of Spike' indeed."
Joyce, with her eyebrows raised, glanced at him, then the door, and back again. "Well?"
"Hurts. But I remember more, now."
She nudged him, gave the door a pointed glance... "Thank you?" she muttered quietly.
He looked at the door. "You've got to be kidding..." Noted her look. "Ok, ok. Thank you, Mr. Door." He turned back to Joyce. "I remembered the spell before. But the feeling... when it broke... I think I blocked it."
She smiled approvingly at him as the door vanished. Linked their arms. "Why did you block it?"
"Because I didn't want to admit what I'd felt. That I'd loved her. Even then. Dru was right, and I didn't want to see it."
Joyce nodded. "Buffy didn't have easy dreams for a month. Now... what next? What would you like to remember?"
He cocked his head. "After the soul. I've got everything... Up to right before I left. There's... something... Another wall. And it hurts."
"What do you remember, Spike?"
He closed his eyes as they walked along. "I went to the house. I wanted to... talk to her. To tell her... something... I don't remember. I went upstairs. I left my duster on the stair rail. I saw her in the bathroom. We talked... and then there's nothing."
She unlinked their arms, placed it over his bundle, giving him a firmer grip. She waved a hand in front of them, and they stood in the bathroom.
Spike looked at her. "I don't think I want to be here, Joyce. I really don't want to be here..."
Joyce said sadly, "No one wanted to be here."
He was trying to back toward the door. "I want to go home now. I really don't want to see this. I don't want to remember anymore..."
Joyce raised a hand and the door slammed shut, effectively sealing them in.
His eyes were wide, with that terrified trapped animal look. "Joyce! What're you doing? I DON'T WANT TO SEE THIS!!"
Her eyes were calm. "But you need to."
"No I don't. I don't want-"
Joyce's eyes filmed over with unshed tears. "You need to see what you both triumphed over."
As she spoke, the scene played out again. Spike and Buffy, appearing mid struggle, her crying out, and him heedless of what she said, continuing his assault anyway.
Spike cried out, moving toward his doppleganger, trying to help Buffy.
Joyce reached out a hand, and without even touching him, restrained him, forcing him to watch.
He whimpered, and pulled against the invisible restraints, tears streaming down his face.
Meanwhile, Buffy had managed to toss the other Spike against the wall. And he froze, not being able to believe what he had almost done. "Buffy I..."
"Get out..."
Spike sagged against the restraints as the scene faded away, falling to his knees, nearly dropping the soul.
Joyce's hands pushed it back into his.
"I can't... I didn't... I'm sorry...", he whimpered. "Oh God... I'm a horrible person."
Joyce knelt in front of him, pulling his head to her shoulder.
He cried onto her shoulder, as he had several times before. "I don't deserve to be a part of your family, Joyce. Let me wake up, and I'll stake myself. Rid the world of another monster."
"We're not finished yet," she told him gently. "You need to see more..."
========================================================================== =======
Dawn smiled. "Pasty and undead is REALLY not your color," she said earnestly to the last of the five attacking vamps. "Dust is more for you." Rammed the stake home.
Xander laughed. "Whoa, Dawn. You're getting as good at those quick remarks as your sister."
Buffy gave a petulant, "Hey!" while Dawn beamed.
"Really, though," Dawn said. "The only people- vamps, that I've ever seen look good pale are Druscilla and Spike."
Xander snorted, then backpedaled and sneezed. "Had to sneeze. Honest. No Spike noise."
Buffy half smiled a moment, thinking about how the moonlight used to shine off his marble abs, the way their skin contrasted but- "Huh?"
Dawn gave her a weird look. "What is wrong with you? All spacey and... lala for a minute."
"Ignore your sister, Dawnie. Her mind is elsewhere."
Buffy stammered out, "I- I was... tallying the body count."
Xander looked around. "Dust count, you mean. Man. All we've seen is vamps tonight. I was hoping for a little demon action."
Buffy glared at him. "Bite your tongue."
Just to be annoying, he did. "Ow."
Dawn laughed at him. "Retard."
"... dar.... I like wood. It's good. Dar..."
Buffy gave a small chuckle, hitting him in the shoulder.
Xander laughed, grabbing Buffy in a bear hug. "Apologize for hitting me, you mean person!"
She squealed. "Help! The big carpenter man is gonna get me!!!"
Xander made a very manufactured growling noise. "Don't make me use my secret weapon."
Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister, who returned the gesture. "And what would that be, He-man?"
"This." He went for the high spot on Buffy's ribs.
She squealed and laughed, trying to wriggle out of his arms.
He released her. "Now. Don't say I didn't warn you. Ms. Big, Tough Slayer Woman."
She ducked her head in a false show of humility. "I'm sorry, Mr. Big Scary Carpenter Man."
"Don't make me use my weapon again...", he threatened, wiggling his fingers at her playfully.
She nodded. "Never, ever again."
Dawn was laughing at their silliness.
Xander exchanged a look with Buffy. "But I didn't say anything about your little sister..." They both turned to her sister.
"Guys.... guys..... now, c'mon!"
========================================================================== ===========
Joyce tugged at Spike. "You have to get up... there's more I have to show."
He stood up shakily, and followed her. "Now what? Because I know it can't get any worse."
"Can you remember the trials?"
"A little. Fire. Demons. Beetles..." He shuddered. "I hate beetles."
She nodded. "Do you need to see them?"
He shook his head. "I really want to know about after them. When things got good... When she loved me..", he finished quietly.
Joyce led him to another door.
Spike sighed. "Excuse me, Mr. Door. Could you please show me something more recent that I don't remember?"
Joyce gave a disbelieving laugh. "Honestly Spike... It's just a door... open it."
He stared at her. "But.. the last one... Oh never mind. Bugger it all." He opened the door. He walked into his crypt, seeing himself crying on his bed, Buffy wrapped around his back, her hands clutching his. "I forgive you," she said, over and over.
He looked at the scene, then back at Joyce. "She forgave me? Even though I-"
Joyce smiled proudly. "My daughter has a large heart. Just like the man that holds it."
Spike blushed instantly, and found an interesting spot on the blanket that held his soul to stare at, a pleasant warmth flowing through him.
"Oh! Look!" Joyce pointed excitedly.
He looked up, nearly giving himself whiplash. "What!?"
Buffy sat curled on the bed now. Babbling in a list about something, the words tumbling from her before she could think to check them. "-I love Spike, I miss Tara..."
Both the real Spike, and the dream one had the identical goofy grin on their faces. "You what?", they said at once.
Spike actually did a dance. It was small, more like hopping in place, but it was there. "She loves me, she loves me, she loves me!", he kept babbling over and over, hugging his soul tight to his chest. "I knew it!"
Joyce smiled, and noticed that Dawn was now sitting on his couch. Talking to Dream Spike. Spike stopped his dance, blushing again, and turned to look at himself and Dawn on the couch.
Dawn's face took on a look of relieved joy when Spike told her reality was what you made of it... And it made her real. The scene faded again as the two began discussing Harmon.
"A monster," Joyce enunciated, "would never tell my baby something like that."
He looked at Joyce, and unknowingly quoted Xander. "Vampires are monsters. They make monster movies about them. I'm a vampire. That makes me a monster, doesn't it?"
She tilted her head. "Define 'vampire'."
"A demon possessed corpse that feeds off blood. Without a ... soul..." He cocked his head, regarding the bundle in his arms. "Uh.. Then what the hell am I?"
Joyce shrugged, quoting her daughter. "A human with a demon visage?"
He considered. "A little long, but it'll do, I guess. What's next?"
She reached into air, and pulled open a door. "You two have fought. Do you know that?"
He winced. "Fought... But I thought she-"
"Verbally."
"Oh. Yeah. That I knew." He regarded the door. "Is this one of the sensitive ones, or do I just open it?"
She smiled. "Go ahead. Open it."
He opened it, having to step up to go through, since it hadn't set itself on the ground yet. He turned and helped Joyce through it as well, then turned and regarded the new scene in front of him.
"I don't suppose you'll drop your jeans if I ask nicely." They watched Buffy wince, and tell him probably not.
Joyce leaned forward to whisper, "She cut herself and bled into a mug for you." She frowned. "And she lied about it."
He nodded. "I remember. I was so mad at her... But... Happy? Happy that she cared. Mad that she'd lied, and hurt herself. I didn't deserve it."
Joyce turned his eyes back to the scene, Buffy was yelling at Spike. "Damnit don't demean yourself." Buffy shook her head. "I can't promise to not. If you got hurt again, I'd do it again."
Spike watched, feeling the jumbled emotions that were coursing through him at that moment. Anger. Love. Slight fear. More love. More anger. He shook his head, looked at Joyce. "Is it always like this? Do we.. fight all the time?"
She shook her head. "Not always... sometimes when you two feel insecure, you do. But mostly you get along pretty well."
"We get along? I must still be missing some stuff."
Joyce smiled, snapped her fingers and watched the scene change. "I really like doing that."
He chuckled. "You're like Q from Star Trek... Uh, please don't tell anyone I said that, ok?"
She grinned. "Swear." Pointed. "See?" It was the Summers' living room, at night, Buffy was saying something, and rubbing his palms.
Spike grinned, remembering their game of Dare. "Yeah. That was a fun night. When she wasn't humiliating me."
"Awww... the dance was cute. And making her put Mr. Gordo in the oven? That was just.... evil, Spike."
"It was only for a second. Not even a second. And I wasn't talking about the dance. She made me beg." He snorted. "I don't beg for anyone."
Joyce smiled. "That's my girl. What else would you like, or not like, to see?"
He looked at her indignantly. "First I want an explanation, or an apology for the 'That's my girl', comment. That was horrible of her, torturing me like that."
Joyce gave a small laugh. "Come on. That was feminine brilliance. Using tickling AND herself to torture you? Any mother would be proud."
He tried to hide a smile. "It wasn't fair. She cheats."
Tried to repress a smile. "Don't we all."
Spike laughed. "Alright. Alright. You win. It was brilliant, ok? And maybe... JUST maybe, mind you, a little fun."
She linked their arms. "Of course... just a little. Now. Pick."
"Um... I don't know. What do the others think of me? They've all been so nice, lately. Specially Rupert. When did that happen?"
She gave a pondering frown. "I can't... I'm not allowed to show you that. I can only give you memories. But I can show you things..."
He nodded. "Ok. Lead on."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------
Joyce closed the portal on Giles telling Spike to rest up, get better. "Anything else you've missed?"
He thought. "I don't know. I can't remember. You're supposed to be my guide. So guide me. What's next?"
Joyce frowned. "I don't know how... legal this is, but... you should know." She opened a new door. "You got very sick. Had a vampire flu. My daughters took good care of you. But one day," she intoned as they started in his dream, "you were dreaming..."
A dark room. Looking like one of the rooms in the old Crawford Street mansion. Spike, chained to a post, and Buffy, chained opposite him, unconscious, bleeding from many wounds. Druscilla walked in from the shadows. "Now, my Spike," the insane vampiress purred, cupping his cheek gently. "You still have the Slayer floating all about you. We have to do something about that..."
"Dru, come on," the chained Spike said. "She has nothing to do with this. If I weren't chained up, I'd kill her in a second."
Dru pouted, and raked her claw-like fingernails across his cheek, drawing blood. "I think you are lying, Spike. You know I hate lying. You are a naughty boy." She turned, and ran a dagger across the unconscious Slayer's arm, making a deep slash. Both Spike's bit their lips to keep from crying out.
"Come on, Dru!", the chained Spike called imploringly. "Pet, really. I don't care about her. I didn't mean a thing I said. It was all a... game! A game, to see how long it would take to get in with her and her pals, so I could take all of them down from the inside. You know I love you, Dru. Only you."
Dru turned, her fangs flashing. "Lies." She turned, and in one smooth motion, slashed the Slayer's throat.
"NOOOOOO!", the real Spike cried, charging into the dream as it disappeared. He froze. Then turned, looking confusedly at Joyce.
Joyce shrugged. "That's all even YOU remember. But Buffy heard... She heard what you said to Druscilla, about only loving her. How it was a joke."
Spike's eyes got huge. "Oh no."
Joyce directed his gaze to the new scene being set, Buffy slamming mugs down, walking out. Spike on the couch, holding in tears.
He looked at Joyce. "She hates me again."
Dawn came in, chatting with Spike, leaving, then returning. Joyce stayed silent.
Spike turned back, wondering what was next.
"Grow some," the teenager enunciated.
Joyce's eyes grew wide. "That girl-"
"-Is her mother's daughter, Joyce," Spike said with a laugh.
She cast him a look, then nodded grudgingly. "She really is. But watch."
He chuckled, and watched the scene again.
Spike was on the couch, reading, slowly dozing off.
He looked at the book. "Gone With The Wind... Why? Oh, yeah. It's one of Buffy's favorite movies."
Joyce thought it was a very sweet gesture. Her angry daughter swept in the house, into the living room. Removed his book and glasses, tried to go upstairs.
Spike woke up, called mentally to her.
She rounded on him.
They spoke for a few moments, Spike trying to explain, then he hit on an idea. Reaffirming the claim would allow her into his mind, and he had been meaning to do some cleaning in there anyway.
Joyce said softly, "She wanted to go so badly. She didn't want to cry in front of you. Let you see how badly it hurt."
He nodded. "But we had both promised, no more walking away."
She smiled sadly. "She didn't care at that point. The only thing keeping her there was you."
They watched as Buffy and Spike settled on the couch. When Buffy removed her shirt, Spike, much like his counterpart on the couch, averted his eyes. Only the "real" Spike had a rose colored blush creeping up his cheeks.
Joyce tilted her head to stare off at an interesting part of the wall.
"*Me in you...*" "You in me.." "*Always..*" "*Forever..*" The two on the couch stayed like that, frozen, attached to each other by their mouths and hands. And Dawn, in her Hello Kitty pajamas, slowly descended the stairs. Her eyes got big, and she quickly turned around, going back up twice as fast as she'd gone down. The scene faded as they pulled apart, and Buffy began nibbling at Spike's neck in a way that had nothing to do with claiming.
Spike glanced at Joyce, embarrassed. Joyce had turned all the way around now. "Sorry...", the blushing vampire said.
She smiled. "I'm not. You make her happy, when you're not frustrating the heck out of her."
He grinned at her. "Joyce, there's somethin' I've been wanting to ask you. Well, two things, actually."
She turned her head to smile at him. "Yes?"
He walked until he was standing next to her. "One, am I your favorite of all Buffy's boyfriends?"
She ran the back of her hand down his cheek. "Of course." As though it was odd of him to assume otherwise.
He gave a happy purr. A different pitch than the one he used for Buffy. This one meant family type love. "Thanks. And two, since you're the only one who knew, and Buffy just upped and showed a prowess for it one day, did you tell her that I'm ticklish? Because I didn't, and she knew anyway. So, did you tell her?"
Joyce tilted her head, thought. "No. We didn't talk much about you, unless it was very loud and angry. She always worried over me."
He chuckled. "Ok. Fair enough. I wonder how she knew, though."
"My daughter is very smart."
"I knew that. And don't use woman's intuition as an excuse. That is a very personal thing, you know. I was embarrassed enough when you figured it out. Although," he said, smiling at the memory. "You did make me feel a lot better that day. Don't know if I've ever thanked you for that."
She patted him. "You're very welcome." Her head cocked to the side, as if listening to something in her head. "I think you know everything you need to."
He nodded, but looked sad. "I.. Don't want to leave you, Joyce. I miss you so much. It hurts. And I'm sorry that I wasn't at the funeral. I didn't even know...." He sniffled.
She smiled fondly at him. "I know you don't. I don't mind. I want you to know... Buffy... took it very hard. She didn't think beyond keeping it together for Dawn... I'm sorry no one else told you."
He wrapped her in a tight hug. "I know.. I wasn't even... No one cared then, anyway." He allowed the tears to fall on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, so much deeper in person than the lingering traces on the couch and some blankets. "I really miss you..."
She squeezed him back, equally tight. "I'm always there, if you want to talk, or have some cocoa. Buffy was right..." She touched the charm on his necklace. "I did want that for you."
He nuzzled her gently, fingering the charm. "Thank you, Joyce." He could feel himself starting to wake up, and tried to hold onto the dream a little longer.
She kissed him gently, motherly, on the lips. "I love you, William. But you have to wake up... you're going to be late."
"For what?", he asked, trying to ignore the fading of the dream.
"... going to be late..." echoed dimly in his head.
"I love you, Joyce!", he called into the fading dream, praying that she'd hear him. Knowing that this had been more than a dream.
"... always love you, William..." The dream state was rapidly dissipating.
Spike woke up, still chained to the chair, nothing in the room had changed, save for the very identity of the sole occupant. Spike was back. He grinned to himself, thinking how happy Buffy would be when she got home. Then he felt something. A pull. A cry of fear, pain, coming through the claim bond, followed by a singular feeling of hopeless terror...