Year 3, Meonik time, seven hours later
A husky voice scratches at the edge of my unconscious mind, laving warm air over my earlobe with each syllable, "I don't remember you being so warm."
Familiar arms pull me closer to a body that's generating heat. A stubbly chin scrapes over my bare shoulder, nuzzling into my neck. I sigh contentedly, trailing fingertips down thick forearms and pressing my hips to his so that sparks of desire sizzle across the nerves in my skin.
The black depths of sleep almost overcome me again when suddenly I'm shoved to the opposite side of the bed. My eyelids swing open in alarm even before harsh words are issued.
"Bloody hell! What am I doing here? What kind of stunt are you trying to pull, woman?" Spike shouts in the thick British accent I recall him losing hundreds of years ago. Apparently, his soul sort of forgot that little fact.
After musing about his accent, I feel the familiar rage, which only Spike can elicit, sweep through me. I whirl to face him, managing to twist the sheets around my legs. "Just who do you think you are, mister? You happen to have come to me in bed!"
Reminiscent of a time long past, Spike snorts acidly. "I highly doubt that."
"Well, you'll have to re-think that one because *you did*!" I cross my arms and glare at his scowling face. I don't like feeling this way about him. I don't like that he can't remember a day of our thousand years together.
"I bet I didn't do it without you influencing me. . . taking advantage of my weakened state." He sounds as stubborn as a little boy who wants to play outside all night and not come inside to take a bath.
"Oh, ho!" I laugh loudly, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. "*I* took advantage of *you*? That's a laugh. Mr. Snores-A-Lot who grabbed my hand in his sleep and wouldn't let go even when I tried to get in bed."
"And *what* were you doing so close to me that I could actually touch you in my sleep?" Spike demands before my nickname dawns on him. He adds, "And I do *not* snore!"
"Do so! And if you must know, I was covering you up with a blanket because you were shivering," I lie. I'm not about to tell him that I was drawn to him. . . that I merely wanted to look at him while he slept.
"Like I believe that one."
"You certainly don't believe much," I observe, pulling my hair back in a loose bun to get the locks off my face until I have time to shower and brush them.
He studies my movements with intense interest before shaking his head slightly as if pushing away a memory. His tone abruptly softens with his next words, "I don't know much about who I am. I'm in a strange place with strange people. I get told almost unfathomable tales about who and what I am or was, and you say that I don't seem to believe much?" He turns his back to me then, settling heavily on the edge of the mattress and putting his head in his hands.
Shocked, I remain motionless for a moment just watching him. He's not crying or moving. . . just sitting with an awful silence encasing him like a butterfly trapped in a cocoon.
Releasing myself from the sheets, I crawl on hands and knees to his still form. Being cautious, I start to wrap my legs around him so that my thighs are parallel to his and my arms slip around his waist. He immediately stiffens at my touch but soon relaxes against me. I lay my cheek in the concave spot between his shoulder blades and listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
After several moments, he reaches down, unknots my hands, and cups them in his palms. "I-I don't remember this. . . I don't remember *us.* I mean, we obviously have feelings for one another; I just don't know how deep they run."
He sounds so broken that I attempt to soothe him with my tone, choosing to ignore what he'd said on the edge of dreams. I don't want to tell him something he needs to discover himself. "You don't have to remember just yet. It's okay; you have plenty of time to adjust. Once you do, the memories will come flowing back."
He twists to view my face. "How did you do it?"
Letting the truth shine through my eyes, I murmur, "I don't know. They were just sort of impressions at first. . . , but later, I. . . when I found. . ."
My thoughts transport back to yesterday and my discovery. Fresh anger flares. Spike feels the change in my body and pulls away as I struggle to stand.
"What's wrong?" he asks, his eyes wide.
I storm around the room, not caring what Spike thought. He is going to have to get used to who I am at some point. Why not start now? I snatch up a pair of my moccasins and clean clothes, stomping into the bathroom. I'm not quite ready to let him see me naked, especially if he doesn't remember anything. Dragging a brush through my hair after I dress, I stomp back into the bedroom.
"What's wrong?" Spike repeats.
"Those three have more explaining to do," I inform him as I hurry out the door.
* * *
Year 3, Meonik time, the next evening
Spike and I walk side-by-side through the small forest to the large silver warehouse-type room where Thayne, Theos, and Thalia wait to prepare us for our journey back to Earth. Leaves and sticks crunch beneath our feet, and what I now know to be artificial moonlight streaks and dances between the giant green-cloaked arms above. The heady scent of life engulfs us. No place on Earth smells so exotic. . . not anymore.
My stomach churns with apprehension about the future and about leaving my sole supports in recent life. Spike must retain some part of his past identity because he wears what seems to be an impenetrable poker face, something he mastered after decades of practice. I almost feel sorry for him because of the two of us, he has almost nothing on which to base his trust in these beings.
Spike reads my mind. "Don't worry, Buffy. We'll make it through."
I should be comforting him! Instinctually, I clasp his hand briefly. He squeezes back and returns his hand to his pocket a little awkwardly. "I needed to hear that. Thanks."
"You're welcome. Are you still upset about earlier?" he wonders softly.
"Not really." When I confronted the invisible three, they gently explained that they recognized that I wasn't gaining my memories back fast enough, so they "allowed" me to discover and free Spike. Somehow I believe them. Maybe I just want to trust.
I shift the pack on my shoulder. In the leather bag, I stowed pictures of me. . . tan and smiling in my favorite environment. . . among the trees. I also have three different simple outfits and a page of pressed leaves and flowers for sentimental reminders. In contrast, Spike's arms are empty. . . like the blank slate of his mind.
"Buffy," Spike interrupts my reverie.
"Hmm?"
"I want to apologize for earlier. . . for snapping at you so harshly."
"It's all right."
Spike stops, and I continue moving past him without a backward glance. "No, it's not all rght," he insists from behind me. "It wasn't right of me. . . no matter how confused I am."
I pause and face him. Lit by a stray slice of moonlight, his blue eyes are awash with earnest, bold emotion. . . the way they've been since I've known him. I don't see the love. . . not yet. Moved by spontaneity, I throw my arms around him the way I've been longing to do since my memories fully returned. To my surprise, he hugs me tightly in return.
I stand on my tiptoes in my moccasins, and whisper in his ear, "Forgiven."
We are quiet the rest of the way to Thayne, Theos, and Thalia's living area.
Theos greets us warmly at the entrance to their quarters, "Hi. We've got some amazing parting gifts for you if you'll kindly step inside."
I giggle in spite of myself and inhale Theos's signature pine scent for what I realize might be the final time. "I wish I could hug you, Theos."
"It's the thought that counts, Buffy. Sometimes I wish I could hug you, too."
"But for different reasons entirely, right?" I tease my favorite of the three beings.
His voice is earnest, "No, not for the reasons you're thinking."
"Oh." Trying to lighten his mood, I blow a fake kiss to him. "Will a kiss do instead?"
His playful laugh trills through the air of the tiny living space. "Yep, I suppose it will have to."
Thalia and Thayne present Spike and me with gifts as soon as we find our way into the hangar-size room. Wrist-computers are slipped onto our wrists. Thalia presents us each with a tiny mechanical device, and Theos slips a ring made of an unknown metal onto our left ring fingers.
Surprised and touched, I gasp in awe, "What are these things?"
Airborne sugar breezes past my nose. Thalia's matter-of-fact voice explains, "The wrist computers are from Thayne; he took what he could decipher from your soul memories and fashioned the new computers, upgrading what would be expected given technological trends on Earth. Special feature: they're made of a material that will be virtually indestructible in your dimension."
I examine the pale grey machine on my wrist. The metal is more lightweight than I recall my previous computer being. "Wow. Thanks."
Spike nods but appears uncertain. "Thanks."
I offer him a smile. "Don't worry. I'll show you how to work it later. I bet it'll come right back."
"I hope so."
Thayne coughs for our attention. "The object Thalia gave you. . . that's a copy of your soul's essence. The only one we have left. We didn't want you to worry that we or someone else might make use of your soul. Keep it; destroy it. Whatever you want to do."
"We'll keep them very safe," I assure the three.
"And the ring?" Spike queries, holding his hand up and pressing his thumb onto the metal.
Theos responds first, "A little gift I made for you both. It has three uses."
"Three?" I am extremely curious.
"Yes. One is a barrier that you can activate whenever you want to appear invisible to other beings similar to your kind. The key to activating it is to practice a lot. . . using your mind."
"Practice?" Spike wrinkles his nose in disgust, and I have to hold back a grin. He's always hated practicing with technology. . . he just doesn't remember yet.
"Does it fool humans and demons?" I inquire thoughtfully.
"We think so," Theos acknowledges. "The second use is to transport back here. . . to our dimension. Once and only once."
"Really?"
"In case you or Spike ever get in trouble you can't find a way out of. We want to be able to help you."
"How do we use that function?"
Thalia cuts Theos off before he can say anything, "There's a code programmed into your computer. You have to say a short phrase aloud together. Use it carefully. If anyone else is touching you when you recite the words, they will come here as well."
Spike raises his eyebrows at me, uncertain how to react to a gift that means less to him than me. Tears fill my eyes because the endowment has extra significance for me.
"And what of the third function?" Spike speaks because I am stunned about what they've given us so far.
"The third is more symbolic than anything else," Thayne declares. "We read in your souls of a deep love for one another. Through your souls we also know that a ring is a symbol of eternity. We wanted you to share that bond. The rings are special, made of a precious metal found only in this dimension."
Spike and I lock eyes, and I attempt to search his for the love that I've always seen emblazoned in the blue depths. For an instant, I discover a crack in the barrier and uncover his deepest feelings, savoring the truth. He. . . the Spike of my memories and dreams. . . remains. Any doubts I had before melt away.
"I take it that the meaning resonates," Thayne notes in a low tone.
Spike and I have no words.
Thalia breaks the solemnity of the gift announcement, "It's time to go now. We'll be sending you five years into the future. . . five years after you were exposed to the sun. Enough time has passed for the mystical energy to rebuild enough for us to send you back. You'll be in the same city where you lived."
"But we haven't had a chance to say our goodbyes," I protest.
Theos is bright with false levity, "Goodbyes are so hard. We just want to part without them."
I accept their terms and force back fresh tears. "Okay."
With efficiency, Thayne begins the steps to open the portal between dimensions. Without fanfare, a small tear in the fabric between dimensions forms. A doorway is open to a new life. Am I prepared to take the next step? Glancing at Spike, I hold out my hand. He hesitates but promptly laces his fingers with mine.
The portal closes behind us as our feet plant firmly on Earth's soil.
TBC. . . Earth, 3007! What will Buffy and Spike find on Earth? Will Spike regain his memories?
Thanks for all the lovely reviews. . . they help me keep writing! ;o) You guys are amazing!!!
Sandy Eternal Devotion: http://darkprophecies.net/eternaldevotion
A husky voice scratches at the edge of my unconscious mind, laving warm air over my earlobe with each syllable, "I don't remember you being so warm."
Familiar arms pull me closer to a body that's generating heat. A stubbly chin scrapes over my bare shoulder, nuzzling into my neck. I sigh contentedly, trailing fingertips down thick forearms and pressing my hips to his so that sparks of desire sizzle across the nerves in my skin.
The black depths of sleep almost overcome me again when suddenly I'm shoved to the opposite side of the bed. My eyelids swing open in alarm even before harsh words are issued.
"Bloody hell! What am I doing here? What kind of stunt are you trying to pull, woman?" Spike shouts in the thick British accent I recall him losing hundreds of years ago. Apparently, his soul sort of forgot that little fact.
After musing about his accent, I feel the familiar rage, which only Spike can elicit, sweep through me. I whirl to face him, managing to twist the sheets around my legs. "Just who do you think you are, mister? You happen to have come to me in bed!"
Reminiscent of a time long past, Spike snorts acidly. "I highly doubt that."
"Well, you'll have to re-think that one because *you did*!" I cross my arms and glare at his scowling face. I don't like feeling this way about him. I don't like that he can't remember a day of our thousand years together.
"I bet I didn't do it without you influencing me. . . taking advantage of my weakened state." He sounds as stubborn as a little boy who wants to play outside all night and not come inside to take a bath.
"Oh, ho!" I laugh loudly, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. "*I* took advantage of *you*? That's a laugh. Mr. Snores-A-Lot who grabbed my hand in his sleep and wouldn't let go even when I tried to get in bed."
"And *what* were you doing so close to me that I could actually touch you in my sleep?" Spike demands before my nickname dawns on him. He adds, "And I do *not* snore!"
"Do so! And if you must know, I was covering you up with a blanket because you were shivering," I lie. I'm not about to tell him that I was drawn to him. . . that I merely wanted to look at him while he slept.
"Like I believe that one."
"You certainly don't believe much," I observe, pulling my hair back in a loose bun to get the locks off my face until I have time to shower and brush them.
He studies my movements with intense interest before shaking his head slightly as if pushing away a memory. His tone abruptly softens with his next words, "I don't know much about who I am. I'm in a strange place with strange people. I get told almost unfathomable tales about who and what I am or was, and you say that I don't seem to believe much?" He turns his back to me then, settling heavily on the edge of the mattress and putting his head in his hands.
Shocked, I remain motionless for a moment just watching him. He's not crying or moving. . . just sitting with an awful silence encasing him like a butterfly trapped in a cocoon.
Releasing myself from the sheets, I crawl on hands and knees to his still form. Being cautious, I start to wrap my legs around him so that my thighs are parallel to his and my arms slip around his waist. He immediately stiffens at my touch but soon relaxes against me. I lay my cheek in the concave spot between his shoulder blades and listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
After several moments, he reaches down, unknots my hands, and cups them in his palms. "I-I don't remember this. . . I don't remember *us.* I mean, we obviously have feelings for one another; I just don't know how deep they run."
He sounds so broken that I attempt to soothe him with my tone, choosing to ignore what he'd said on the edge of dreams. I don't want to tell him something he needs to discover himself. "You don't have to remember just yet. It's okay; you have plenty of time to adjust. Once you do, the memories will come flowing back."
He twists to view my face. "How did you do it?"
Letting the truth shine through my eyes, I murmur, "I don't know. They were just sort of impressions at first. . . , but later, I. . . when I found. . ."
My thoughts transport back to yesterday and my discovery. Fresh anger flares. Spike feels the change in my body and pulls away as I struggle to stand.
"What's wrong?" he asks, his eyes wide.
I storm around the room, not caring what Spike thought. He is going to have to get used to who I am at some point. Why not start now? I snatch up a pair of my moccasins and clean clothes, stomping into the bathroom. I'm not quite ready to let him see me naked, especially if he doesn't remember anything. Dragging a brush through my hair after I dress, I stomp back into the bedroom.
"What's wrong?" Spike repeats.
"Those three have more explaining to do," I inform him as I hurry out the door.
* * *
Year 3, Meonik time, the next evening
Spike and I walk side-by-side through the small forest to the large silver warehouse-type room where Thayne, Theos, and Thalia wait to prepare us for our journey back to Earth. Leaves and sticks crunch beneath our feet, and what I now know to be artificial moonlight streaks and dances between the giant green-cloaked arms above. The heady scent of life engulfs us. No place on Earth smells so exotic. . . not anymore.
My stomach churns with apprehension about the future and about leaving my sole supports in recent life. Spike must retain some part of his past identity because he wears what seems to be an impenetrable poker face, something he mastered after decades of practice. I almost feel sorry for him because of the two of us, he has almost nothing on which to base his trust in these beings.
Spike reads my mind. "Don't worry, Buffy. We'll make it through."
I should be comforting him! Instinctually, I clasp his hand briefly. He squeezes back and returns his hand to his pocket a little awkwardly. "I needed to hear that. Thanks."
"You're welcome. Are you still upset about earlier?" he wonders softly.
"Not really." When I confronted the invisible three, they gently explained that they recognized that I wasn't gaining my memories back fast enough, so they "allowed" me to discover and free Spike. Somehow I believe them. Maybe I just want to trust.
I shift the pack on my shoulder. In the leather bag, I stowed pictures of me. . . tan and smiling in my favorite environment. . . among the trees. I also have three different simple outfits and a page of pressed leaves and flowers for sentimental reminders. In contrast, Spike's arms are empty. . . like the blank slate of his mind.
"Buffy," Spike interrupts my reverie.
"Hmm?"
"I want to apologize for earlier. . . for snapping at you so harshly."
"It's all right."
Spike stops, and I continue moving past him without a backward glance. "No, it's not all rght," he insists from behind me. "It wasn't right of me. . . no matter how confused I am."
I pause and face him. Lit by a stray slice of moonlight, his blue eyes are awash with earnest, bold emotion. . . the way they've been since I've known him. I don't see the love. . . not yet. Moved by spontaneity, I throw my arms around him the way I've been longing to do since my memories fully returned. To my surprise, he hugs me tightly in return.
I stand on my tiptoes in my moccasins, and whisper in his ear, "Forgiven."
We are quiet the rest of the way to Thayne, Theos, and Thalia's living area.
Theos greets us warmly at the entrance to their quarters, "Hi. We've got some amazing parting gifts for you if you'll kindly step inside."
I giggle in spite of myself and inhale Theos's signature pine scent for what I realize might be the final time. "I wish I could hug you, Theos."
"It's the thought that counts, Buffy. Sometimes I wish I could hug you, too."
"But for different reasons entirely, right?" I tease my favorite of the three beings.
His voice is earnest, "No, not for the reasons you're thinking."
"Oh." Trying to lighten his mood, I blow a fake kiss to him. "Will a kiss do instead?"
His playful laugh trills through the air of the tiny living space. "Yep, I suppose it will have to."
Thalia and Thayne present Spike and me with gifts as soon as we find our way into the hangar-size room. Wrist-computers are slipped onto our wrists. Thalia presents us each with a tiny mechanical device, and Theos slips a ring made of an unknown metal onto our left ring fingers.
Surprised and touched, I gasp in awe, "What are these things?"
Airborne sugar breezes past my nose. Thalia's matter-of-fact voice explains, "The wrist computers are from Thayne; he took what he could decipher from your soul memories and fashioned the new computers, upgrading what would be expected given technological trends on Earth. Special feature: they're made of a material that will be virtually indestructible in your dimension."
I examine the pale grey machine on my wrist. The metal is more lightweight than I recall my previous computer being. "Wow. Thanks."
Spike nods but appears uncertain. "Thanks."
I offer him a smile. "Don't worry. I'll show you how to work it later. I bet it'll come right back."
"I hope so."
Thayne coughs for our attention. "The object Thalia gave you. . . that's a copy of your soul's essence. The only one we have left. We didn't want you to worry that we or someone else might make use of your soul. Keep it; destroy it. Whatever you want to do."
"We'll keep them very safe," I assure the three.
"And the ring?" Spike queries, holding his hand up and pressing his thumb onto the metal.
Theos responds first, "A little gift I made for you both. It has three uses."
"Three?" I am extremely curious.
"Yes. One is a barrier that you can activate whenever you want to appear invisible to other beings similar to your kind. The key to activating it is to practice a lot. . . using your mind."
"Practice?" Spike wrinkles his nose in disgust, and I have to hold back a grin. He's always hated practicing with technology. . . he just doesn't remember yet.
"Does it fool humans and demons?" I inquire thoughtfully.
"We think so," Theos acknowledges. "The second use is to transport back here. . . to our dimension. Once and only once."
"Really?"
"In case you or Spike ever get in trouble you can't find a way out of. We want to be able to help you."
"How do we use that function?"
Thalia cuts Theos off before he can say anything, "There's a code programmed into your computer. You have to say a short phrase aloud together. Use it carefully. If anyone else is touching you when you recite the words, they will come here as well."
Spike raises his eyebrows at me, uncertain how to react to a gift that means less to him than me. Tears fill my eyes because the endowment has extra significance for me.
"And what of the third function?" Spike speaks because I am stunned about what they've given us so far.
"The third is more symbolic than anything else," Thayne declares. "We read in your souls of a deep love for one another. Through your souls we also know that a ring is a symbol of eternity. We wanted you to share that bond. The rings are special, made of a precious metal found only in this dimension."
Spike and I lock eyes, and I attempt to search his for the love that I've always seen emblazoned in the blue depths. For an instant, I discover a crack in the barrier and uncover his deepest feelings, savoring the truth. He. . . the Spike of my memories and dreams. . . remains. Any doubts I had before melt away.
"I take it that the meaning resonates," Thayne notes in a low tone.
Spike and I have no words.
Thalia breaks the solemnity of the gift announcement, "It's time to go now. We'll be sending you five years into the future. . . five years after you were exposed to the sun. Enough time has passed for the mystical energy to rebuild enough for us to send you back. You'll be in the same city where you lived."
"But we haven't had a chance to say our goodbyes," I protest.
Theos is bright with false levity, "Goodbyes are so hard. We just want to part without them."
I accept their terms and force back fresh tears. "Okay."
With efficiency, Thayne begins the steps to open the portal between dimensions. Without fanfare, a small tear in the fabric between dimensions forms. A doorway is open to a new life. Am I prepared to take the next step? Glancing at Spike, I hold out my hand. He hesitates but promptly laces his fingers with mine.
The portal closes behind us as our feet plant firmly on Earth's soil.
TBC. . . Earth, 3007! What will Buffy and Spike find on Earth? Will Spike regain his memories?
Thanks for all the lovely reviews. . . they help me keep writing! ;o) You guys are amazing!!!
Sandy Eternal Devotion: http://darkprophecies.net/eternaldevotion