A/N: Since I can't get into the FF system my wonderful beta Trisha is
posting for me and since FF won't let her post italics thoughts will be in
these ( ). Thanks for the wonderful feedback and hope you all enjoy. :)
England April 2003
A shrill whistle from a boiling tea kettle invaded the serenity and coziness of the small kitchen. Giles tore his gaze from the clock and lifted the kettle. He looked at the table and the empty chairs for a moment before filling the two waiting cups. Easing down into one of the chairs, he lifted a package that had arrived the hour before. Tearing open the security strip, he couldn't stop his attention from drifting back to the clock.
(10:15. Five more minutes.)
Ripping his gaze from the clock, he forced his concentration to the contents of a large manila envelope. Rage suffused his system as he processed the first few lines of a brief cover letter. Five seconds later it was crumpled and winging it's way towards the trash can.
(Bloody bastards. Who do they think…)
Even as he thought it, Giles was on his feet and recovering the paper. Ignoring the files and photographs that had accompanied it, he smoothed out the letter and read it again. On the fifth read, through a plan started to poke at his tired brain. As much as he hated the idea, as much as she would hate him for suggesting it, something had to give. The clock on the stove was flashing 10:18 and he dropped his head in his hands as the weight of the decision he had to make in the next few minutes settled on his shoulders.
(If she manages to sleep even five seconds past 10:20, the papers go in the trash. Council be damned. If not…)
A slight scuffle on the stairs alerted him to the impending arrival of one the house's other occupants. A small well of hope started to build in his chest and his eyes glued themselves to the doorway.
(Please let it be Buffy. Please let it be Buffy. Please let it be...)
Dawn stomped into the kitchen, Giles quickly tried to cover his disappointment. Dawn's gaze took in him, the clock and the empty chair in one long disgusted sweep. With a small snort, she grabbed her car keys off the rack by the back door. Picking up her purse, she paused and looked back at him.
"This isn't helping her." Dawn gestured to the table. " Letting her pretend isn't helping her." Not waiting for a reply, Dawn swept out of the door and slammed it behind her.
Giles stared at the door for a moment and made a silent promise to Buffy, Dawn and himself.
(I won't let her fall again.)
Picking up the abandoned papers, he began sorting them into piles as he waited for the minutes to tick by. As the clock neared the designated time, he switched his attention to the second hand on his wrist. Ten more and he could throw the papers in the trash. Five more and he could breathe again. Three more…two more. Giles closed his eyes and waited.
At precisely 10:20, a high pitched scream worked its way down to him from a bedroom upstairs. Giles shifted slightly in the chair and picked up his tea.
Buffy sat up in bed as the last screams ripped from her throat, her hands still reaching for the ghosts in her dreams. She stared wildly around the room for a moment and then collapsed back on the pillows, tucking her arms around her shivering body.
The dreams were the best and the worst part of her day. She despised the fact that every night her mind forced her to relive Willow and Xander's death, but they were the only thing keeping her grounded in reality.
Easing her feet over the side of the bed, she let them drop to the floor and went through the mental reassurances she needed to keep her sane.
(Tomorrow I will get there in time. I'll grab Xander's hand before he falls. I won't lose my grip on Willow's wrist. I'll save them tomorrow.)
Clinging to the hope that she could save them, if only in a dream was what kept her going. It was her reason for getting up in the morning, for going to work, for just living one more day. Because waking up meant she could go back to sleep and try again. She could admit that it wasn't much of a lifestyle, but she also knew it was all she had left.
Stretching her arms above her head, she closed her eyes and let her senses drift around the house, searching. A few seconds later her eyes popped open and she ran for the closet.
(Damnit Dawn)
No matter what she did or how loud she threatened, Dawn took off on almost a nightly basis. Buffy spent most of her nights tracking her sister down and dragging her home. She was almost positive at this point that she had been to pretty much every club North London had to offer.
(I understand the teen angst thing, but couldn't she just get a tattoo on her ass like normal kids.)
Dressing quickly, she headed downstairs to her Watcher and his nightly vigil. Pausing outside the door, she smoothed down her hair and fought with her face to produce a smile.
(Get in, get out and don't pause for the nightly 'how are you feeling speech'.)
Slipping into the kitchen, she busied herself with the act of putting on her boots and gathering her keys. Absorbed in the act of tying up laces, she missed the look of regret passing over Giles face. Finished with her boots, she stood and reached for her purse.
"Buffy, we need to discuss some things."
(Tomorrow put your shoes on upstairs.)
Buffy started digging through her purse looking for car keys. "It will have to wait, I want to get going before she gets too much of a lead."
"A package came today…for you. I really think you need to see this."
At the urgent tone in his voice, Buffy raised an eyebrow and took the sheaf of papers handed to her. Sifting through them without really looking, she couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice. "Opening my mail now Giles? Doesn't that violate some code of ethics…"
Buffy's voice trailed off as pictures of three, obviously dead women, separated from themselves from the pile of written documents. "What?" Buffy's voice cracked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. " Is this someone's idea of a sick joke?"
A portion of her brain was screaming that the women were strangers but the more prominent part kept seeing Willow's face on every one.
"They are from the Council." Giles said quietly.
At the mention of the Council, Buffy's legs gave out and she collapsed into the chair.
(What part of 'I quit' did they not get?)
"From what I have read so far, there have been at least ten bodies found in the last month. The Council has been able to determine that each woman was involved in high levels of magic. They were all extremely powerful witches."
Blinking rapidly, Buffy tried to process what he was saying.
(Not again.) Her mind screamed ( Not ever again.)
Drawing in a harsh breath, Buffy slowly lifted the closest photo to her and studied it with a hard-won clinical detachment. After a moment she tossed it back on the table with an indifferent shrug. "It's not a vampire. There are no bites."
"We don't know for sure that vampires aren't involved."
Buffy slammed her hands on the table so hard Giles' tea went flying and the papers were soaked. "We? Since when did you and the Council become a 'we' again?"
Giles gathered the documents up swiftly, trying to save the ones that had escaped her outburst. "Buffy, my status with the Council is not the issue right now. Yours, however, is."
"Oh, I think it's very much an issue."
Giles pulled off his glasses and started to rub them furiously on his shirt, refusing to look at her. Buffy reached over and snatched the glasses away, demanding his attention. "What is going on?"
"The council wants you to resume your role as the slayer and has offered me my position as your watcher back."
It was said in such a rush that she had it took her a moment to put all the words together in her head.
Buffy raised a suspicious brow. "And if 'we' refuse?"
"Then they are prepared to instill any means necessary to ensure that either you abide by your duty or that another chosen one is brought forth. "
"So either I toe the line or I die. They really need to come up with a new threat. That one is so overdone."
"No Buffy, not you."
Buffy stared at him for a minute, confusion marring her face and lacing her voice. "Well what good would it to kill you? That doesn't make sense, they would have to kill…oh."
Giles nodded and confirmed the name Buffy couldn't force herself to utter. "Faith."
Standing up quickly, Buffy grabbed her purse and moved towards the door. "I can't decide that. Nobody can make me decide that, not you and especially not the Council. I can't believe you would actually go along with this. What is wrong with you? No actually never mind, this conversation is over. I need to find Dawn."
(I need to do anything but lie down on the floor and scream.)
"Buffy! You can't just shrug this off and hope it will disappear."
He didn't say it but she could hear 'like you do everything else' behind his words. The control she clung to was swiftly slipping away and she had no idea what would happen when it was gone.
"You are still the Slayer. You have responsibilities that, quite frankly, you have been ignoring for too bloody long as it. A horrible, tragic accident happened, but locking yourself away from the world is not going to change it. Damnit Buffy, when are you going to accept that it wasn't your fault!"
"How can you say it wasn't my fault. If it wasn't for me, Willow never would have touched magic. She did it to help me, they both did everything, all of it, to help me. And it killed them. I killed them. So don't ever tell me it's not my fault because I know it is."
Giles reached out his hand towards her. "Buffy. No. They had a choice and they both freely chose to help you and be a part of your life."
Buffy stared blankly at his outstretched hand. "No one chooses to die, Giles."
Backing up a step, she turned and ran for the door, shoving down an overpowering wall of guilt in favor of the indifference she clung to like a shield.
Dawn tilted her head to the side and listened intently to the man she was dancing with. Well, maybe intently wasn't quite the word. Okay, she wasn't even listening. She just wanted to dance. Just needed the momentary escape from painful memories and sleepless nights. Escape from every day of her life but most of all from the emptiness that gnawed at her heart and lived in her sisters eyes.
A tingle up her back alerted her to a presence behind her and Dawn dropped her head against the broad chest of her dancing partner.
(I really have to start checking for tracking devices. It took her less than an hour this time. )
She felt the tight grip on her arm at the same time as Buffy's voice rose above the music.
" Now I'm not sure, but mauling a seventeen year old is still an offence in this country, right?"
Mortified, Dawn cast a tight smile at the confused man and then ripped her arm out of Buffy's grasp. Glaring at her sister, she spun around and ran for the exit. She made it out into the alley behind the club before Buffy caught up with her. A protruding brick bit sharply into her back when Buffy shoved her against the wall that made up the outside of the club. Crossing her arms over her chest, Dawn let a mask of indifference fall over her features.
"You're 17 years old. You can't go running around these places. And I am getting really tired of chasing you down."
"So don't then. Leave me alone for once."
"You know I can't do that Dawnie."
Rage burned through Dawn. She was sick of people that couldn't get their own lives together telling her how to live. "Don't call me that! I'm not a child. I don't even know why you bother, it's not like you actually care."
"How can you say that? You're 'all' I care about."
Dawn shook her head. " No you don't, not really, you don't care about anything. You're dead, or may as well be." Her voice cracked on the last and the words fell between them like a weight.
"That may be true. But you're not and I intend to keep it that way."
Dawn studied the blank look on her sisters face. She wondered if Buffy even realized the complete lack of emotion in her voice.
(She's not even in there anymore.)
Tearing her gaze from Buffy, Dawn turned slowly and started to walk back towards the club entrance.
"Get back here. I'm not done…" Dawn froze as Buffy's fingers made contact with material of her coat. " What the hell are you wearing? Where did you get this?"
Before she could form an explanation in her mind, Buffy was tearing the material off her shoulders. She watched as Buffy held it for a minute and then let it drop to the ground. Dawn stared in stunned silence at Buffy's tortured face. Slowly bending down, she picked up Spike's duster and held it in front of her like a shield. Buffy's gaze was locked on the coat and Dawn felt the beginning of hope flow through her as the realization struck that her sister was actually feeling. True, it was pain, but at least it was something. Dawn lifted a tentative hand. "Buffy?"
Buffy jumped at the sound of her voice and brought her eyes back to Dawn's.
"You can't walk around wearing a murderer's jacket." Aloofness colored the words and diminished their impact.
Dawn saw the moment was passing as the light began to die again in Buffy's eyes. Desperate to get it back, Dawn used the only weapon she had available.
(I'm sorry Buffy but this is going to hurt…for both of us. )
"You wear Willow's necklace."
Buffy stumbled back a few steps like she's been slapped. "That's not the same thing."
Dawn let out a low, humorless laugh "Isn't it," she spat, "Willow killed people. She killed Xander and you don't hate her. Excuse me if I didn't realize that was a privilege you've reserved solely for Spike."
Buffy sunk to the ground as her legs lost the ability to support her. Burying her face in her knees, she fought the tears blocking her vision. She wiped at her face and looked up at her sister, silently pleading for understanding. Dawn stared back unflinching. No one seemed willing to let her hide anymore.
"It was an accident," she said quietly. "Spike is a vampire. Willow was just…."
"What? Human? Had a soul? What?" Dawn's words sliced like knives through her mind.
"Yes, all of that, she was human and in pain and she paid, with her life."
Dawn sat down and studied her for a minute, anger making her vibrate. "So if you die then that just wipes it all clean. Sorry if I didn't get that, must have missed the memo." Buffy flinched and Dawn pushed a little more. " You better get with the forgiving then Buffy, cause Spike's been dead a really long time."
Buffy shook her head in denial. "It's not the same. Willow did a lot of good things before…"
"So did Spike and in the same amount of years as Willow."
"How can you compare that? Willow did those things because she wanted to, not because…because she wanted something from me."
Dawn calmly folded her hands and prepared to rip her sister's self- contained world apart. "When are you going to figure out that the world is not black and white? It's gray Buffy. Why don't you get that? It's a whole big pile of freaking gray
"No, Spike spent over a hundred years-"
Dawn waved a hand dismissively " Yes he did. He spent a long time doing horrible things but did you ever consider who he was before? I mean before he was a vampire. Do you know what he did then?"
Buffy stared at Dawn, confusion evident on her face. "No," she said slowly," I guess not. Wait, he told me. He said he's always been bad."
Dawn moved to get up, the disgust on her face an accompaniment to her words, "I don't know why I'm bothering. You would never be able to face the possibility that maybe you could be wrong."
Buffy grabbed her arm. "Hold on here, he said…"
"Of course he did and you believed him. Did you ever once notice that you never believed a word he said unless it was what you wanted to hear? Something that fit into the "Buffy world view". You may as well have told him to be evil. Actually, I'm pretty sure you did."
Buffy wrapped her arms around her legs. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, I do. But I guess I'm not saying anything you want to hear. It's no big mystery why he left you. I know more than you ever did about him and I wasn't the one sleeping with him. Did you ever consider why?"
Buffy shook her head
"Because I 'did' listen, I 'let' myself know."
Dawn's superior attitude was beginning to break through Buffy's defenses. Actually it was beginning to piss her off. "What, Dawn? What do you know about Spike that I don't?"
Dawn shrugged and picked imaginary lint of her shirt. "Lots of things."
Really piss her off. 'Like how many lives he took? How he slaughtered and maimed innocent people? Sorry if I wasn't all with the curious approach on those little tidbits."
"That's not all we talked about, " Dawn said defensively. "I know things you never could. Because I asked, because I cared."
"I cared, Dawn. So you can cut the holier than thou crap."
"Really? Excuse me, I must have been mistaken. You two must have had some nice long chats while you were screwing each other into the floor."
Buffy cringed and Dawn smirked. Casting her a sidelong glance, Dawn raised an eyebrow. " What's his last name?"
"Spike has a last name?" Buffy desperately wished she could take back the question the second it left her mouth.
"Doesn't everybody?"
"Umm…Cher doesn't," Buffy mumbled.
Dawn ignored her. "It's Aldrige. What was his mother's name? His sisters? When was he born?"
"I…I don't know." Buffy lowered her head.
(Shit! I can rattle off Riley's family tree in my sleep. )
Dawn shook her head and answered the questions herself. "His mother was Mary-Anne. He had two sisters. Katherine and Cynthia. But they called Katherine, Kate because she was the baby."
"Yeah and what did they call her after he killed them." Buffy cringed at the sarcasm in her voice but she was trying vainly to hold onto a piece of her dignity.
"He didn't kill them. Spike is not Angel. When are you going to figure that out?"
"You believe him." Buffy knew it wasn't in question and desperately wished she could have the same conviction.
"Why wouldn't I. He had no reason to lie to me. But if you don't believe me why don't you find out?"
"How in the hell am I supposed to find that out."
Dawn rolled her eyes in the traditional 'duh' gesture. "We 'are' in England. He 'is' British."
With that, Dawn stood up and brushed at her pants, "I'm going home."
Buffy looked up and realized her sister was halfway down the alley. She completely lacked the energy to follow. Spike's jacket was now on the ground beside her and she reached for it. Slowly bringing the leather to her nose, she inhaled deeply. Dawn's perfume and shampoo, but underneath she caught his scent, tobacco, whiskey and mint.
(I know something. I know he smelled like peppermints. And I can guarantee she doesn't know why.)
Slowly running her hands over the inside lining of the coat, her fingers found the pocket hidden there. Pulling out a small green tin, she popped open the lid and smiled at the contents. He had always kept them there…for her. Buffy slowly put a mint in her mouth and brushed at the tears sliding down her cheeks. The events of the evening had proven one thing, her time was up. Tomorrow was here whether she liked it or not.
"No one's been in this section for years."
Buffy glanced up at the woman assigned to show her around, wondering when she would leave. Moving towards the graveyard portion of the estate, she trailed a hand over the name carved on the last one in the row.
(Hey, Spike. It took me a while but I found you.)
"Yes, it was quite sad. They died so young then, he was only 24. But look, the others lived a long life."
Buffy forced her gaze to the other slabs in the family plot. Katherine, Mary-Anne, Cynthia, they all died after him. Long after him. She sat down on his grave and ignored the horrified look on the woman's face. Probably wouldn't do to tell her that it was empty, but it would almost be worth the expression on her sour face.
"Well I'm off, but you stay as long as you like. I hope those diaries I found help."
Buffy nodded at her departure and stared at the diary in her lap.
Flipping through a few pages she sighed and pulled her worn leather duster closer.
(He'd be so pissed right now. Not only am I sitting on his grave, I've got his diary and his coat. The 'bloody hells' would be flying.)
A slight giggle escaped her lips and she quickly looked around to see if anyone had witnessed the crazy woman laughing in the graveyard. Assured of her solitude, Buffy leaned sideways and contemplated his tombstone.
"Who would have thought you'd be a 'beloved' anything. Well maybe Drusilla would but we all know she's nuts."
Buffy reached out and traced the letters again.
"I think about you. Not all the time of course but sometimes I wonder where you are and if you're okay. Do you ever notice that you only realize how much you miss people after they leave? I mean, if we knew that before maybe we would be a little nicer when they 'are' there."
Buffy dropped her hand and rubbed at a speck of dirt on her jeans.
"Maybe then I wouldn't be sitting here talking to an empty grave."
Staring at the diary, she thought about all the decisions she had been forced to make in the last few weeks, rejoining the council being the biggest. The first training session was scheduled for tonight and the idea filled her with a sense of dread.
"I'm just going to hang out here for a bit, okay."
Opening the book to the last entry she leaned back against his tombstone and started to read.
May 24, 1880
I am attending a small gathering tonight. I am fairly consumed with excitement. It has been said that she will attend. Cecily. Her name alone inspires beauty. One can only hope…well I can only hope that someday she will see me as I see her.
Mother is calling and I must quit this entry as I will be preparing to leave soon. Maybe tomorrow I will have happy news to share.
William Christopher Aldrige
TBC…
I know this part was a little 'Spike-light' but now that Buffy is learning to deal, he gets the whole next chapter to himself. It's only fair.
England April 2003
A shrill whistle from a boiling tea kettle invaded the serenity and coziness of the small kitchen. Giles tore his gaze from the clock and lifted the kettle. He looked at the table and the empty chairs for a moment before filling the two waiting cups. Easing down into one of the chairs, he lifted a package that had arrived the hour before. Tearing open the security strip, he couldn't stop his attention from drifting back to the clock.
(10:15. Five more minutes.)
Ripping his gaze from the clock, he forced his concentration to the contents of a large manila envelope. Rage suffused his system as he processed the first few lines of a brief cover letter. Five seconds later it was crumpled and winging it's way towards the trash can.
(Bloody bastards. Who do they think…)
Even as he thought it, Giles was on his feet and recovering the paper. Ignoring the files and photographs that had accompanied it, he smoothed out the letter and read it again. On the fifth read, through a plan started to poke at his tired brain. As much as he hated the idea, as much as she would hate him for suggesting it, something had to give. The clock on the stove was flashing 10:18 and he dropped his head in his hands as the weight of the decision he had to make in the next few minutes settled on his shoulders.
(If she manages to sleep even five seconds past 10:20, the papers go in the trash. Council be damned. If not…)
A slight scuffle on the stairs alerted him to the impending arrival of one the house's other occupants. A small well of hope started to build in his chest and his eyes glued themselves to the doorway.
(Please let it be Buffy. Please let it be Buffy. Please let it be...)
Dawn stomped into the kitchen, Giles quickly tried to cover his disappointment. Dawn's gaze took in him, the clock and the empty chair in one long disgusted sweep. With a small snort, she grabbed her car keys off the rack by the back door. Picking up her purse, she paused and looked back at him.
"This isn't helping her." Dawn gestured to the table. " Letting her pretend isn't helping her." Not waiting for a reply, Dawn swept out of the door and slammed it behind her.
Giles stared at the door for a moment and made a silent promise to Buffy, Dawn and himself.
(I won't let her fall again.)
Picking up the abandoned papers, he began sorting them into piles as he waited for the minutes to tick by. As the clock neared the designated time, he switched his attention to the second hand on his wrist. Ten more and he could throw the papers in the trash. Five more and he could breathe again. Three more…two more. Giles closed his eyes and waited.
At precisely 10:20, a high pitched scream worked its way down to him from a bedroom upstairs. Giles shifted slightly in the chair and picked up his tea.
Buffy sat up in bed as the last screams ripped from her throat, her hands still reaching for the ghosts in her dreams. She stared wildly around the room for a moment and then collapsed back on the pillows, tucking her arms around her shivering body.
The dreams were the best and the worst part of her day. She despised the fact that every night her mind forced her to relive Willow and Xander's death, but they were the only thing keeping her grounded in reality.
Easing her feet over the side of the bed, she let them drop to the floor and went through the mental reassurances she needed to keep her sane.
(Tomorrow I will get there in time. I'll grab Xander's hand before he falls. I won't lose my grip on Willow's wrist. I'll save them tomorrow.)
Clinging to the hope that she could save them, if only in a dream was what kept her going. It was her reason for getting up in the morning, for going to work, for just living one more day. Because waking up meant she could go back to sleep and try again. She could admit that it wasn't much of a lifestyle, but she also knew it was all she had left.
Stretching her arms above her head, she closed her eyes and let her senses drift around the house, searching. A few seconds later her eyes popped open and she ran for the closet.
(Damnit Dawn)
No matter what she did or how loud she threatened, Dawn took off on almost a nightly basis. Buffy spent most of her nights tracking her sister down and dragging her home. She was almost positive at this point that she had been to pretty much every club North London had to offer.
(I understand the teen angst thing, but couldn't she just get a tattoo on her ass like normal kids.)
Dressing quickly, she headed downstairs to her Watcher and his nightly vigil. Pausing outside the door, she smoothed down her hair and fought with her face to produce a smile.
(Get in, get out and don't pause for the nightly 'how are you feeling speech'.)
Slipping into the kitchen, she busied herself with the act of putting on her boots and gathering her keys. Absorbed in the act of tying up laces, she missed the look of regret passing over Giles face. Finished with her boots, she stood and reached for her purse.
"Buffy, we need to discuss some things."
(Tomorrow put your shoes on upstairs.)
Buffy started digging through her purse looking for car keys. "It will have to wait, I want to get going before she gets too much of a lead."
"A package came today…for you. I really think you need to see this."
At the urgent tone in his voice, Buffy raised an eyebrow and took the sheaf of papers handed to her. Sifting through them without really looking, she couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice. "Opening my mail now Giles? Doesn't that violate some code of ethics…"
Buffy's voice trailed off as pictures of three, obviously dead women, separated from themselves from the pile of written documents. "What?" Buffy's voice cracked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. " Is this someone's idea of a sick joke?"
A portion of her brain was screaming that the women were strangers but the more prominent part kept seeing Willow's face on every one.
"They are from the Council." Giles said quietly.
At the mention of the Council, Buffy's legs gave out and she collapsed into the chair.
(What part of 'I quit' did they not get?)
"From what I have read so far, there have been at least ten bodies found in the last month. The Council has been able to determine that each woman was involved in high levels of magic. They were all extremely powerful witches."
Blinking rapidly, Buffy tried to process what he was saying.
(Not again.) Her mind screamed ( Not ever again.)
Drawing in a harsh breath, Buffy slowly lifted the closest photo to her and studied it with a hard-won clinical detachment. After a moment she tossed it back on the table with an indifferent shrug. "It's not a vampire. There are no bites."
"We don't know for sure that vampires aren't involved."
Buffy slammed her hands on the table so hard Giles' tea went flying and the papers were soaked. "We? Since when did you and the Council become a 'we' again?"
Giles gathered the documents up swiftly, trying to save the ones that had escaped her outburst. "Buffy, my status with the Council is not the issue right now. Yours, however, is."
"Oh, I think it's very much an issue."
Giles pulled off his glasses and started to rub them furiously on his shirt, refusing to look at her. Buffy reached over and snatched the glasses away, demanding his attention. "What is going on?"
"The council wants you to resume your role as the slayer and has offered me my position as your watcher back."
It was said in such a rush that she had it took her a moment to put all the words together in her head.
Buffy raised a suspicious brow. "And if 'we' refuse?"
"Then they are prepared to instill any means necessary to ensure that either you abide by your duty or that another chosen one is brought forth. "
"So either I toe the line or I die. They really need to come up with a new threat. That one is so overdone."
"No Buffy, not you."
Buffy stared at him for a minute, confusion marring her face and lacing her voice. "Well what good would it to kill you? That doesn't make sense, they would have to kill…oh."
Giles nodded and confirmed the name Buffy couldn't force herself to utter. "Faith."
Standing up quickly, Buffy grabbed her purse and moved towards the door. "I can't decide that. Nobody can make me decide that, not you and especially not the Council. I can't believe you would actually go along with this. What is wrong with you? No actually never mind, this conversation is over. I need to find Dawn."
(I need to do anything but lie down on the floor and scream.)
"Buffy! You can't just shrug this off and hope it will disappear."
He didn't say it but she could hear 'like you do everything else' behind his words. The control she clung to was swiftly slipping away and she had no idea what would happen when it was gone.
"You are still the Slayer. You have responsibilities that, quite frankly, you have been ignoring for too bloody long as it. A horrible, tragic accident happened, but locking yourself away from the world is not going to change it. Damnit Buffy, when are you going to accept that it wasn't your fault!"
"How can you say it wasn't my fault. If it wasn't for me, Willow never would have touched magic. She did it to help me, they both did everything, all of it, to help me. And it killed them. I killed them. So don't ever tell me it's not my fault because I know it is."
Giles reached out his hand towards her. "Buffy. No. They had a choice and they both freely chose to help you and be a part of your life."
Buffy stared blankly at his outstretched hand. "No one chooses to die, Giles."
Backing up a step, she turned and ran for the door, shoving down an overpowering wall of guilt in favor of the indifference she clung to like a shield.
Dawn tilted her head to the side and listened intently to the man she was dancing with. Well, maybe intently wasn't quite the word. Okay, she wasn't even listening. She just wanted to dance. Just needed the momentary escape from painful memories and sleepless nights. Escape from every day of her life but most of all from the emptiness that gnawed at her heart and lived in her sisters eyes.
A tingle up her back alerted her to a presence behind her and Dawn dropped her head against the broad chest of her dancing partner.
(I really have to start checking for tracking devices. It took her less than an hour this time. )
She felt the tight grip on her arm at the same time as Buffy's voice rose above the music.
" Now I'm not sure, but mauling a seventeen year old is still an offence in this country, right?"
Mortified, Dawn cast a tight smile at the confused man and then ripped her arm out of Buffy's grasp. Glaring at her sister, she spun around and ran for the exit. She made it out into the alley behind the club before Buffy caught up with her. A protruding brick bit sharply into her back when Buffy shoved her against the wall that made up the outside of the club. Crossing her arms over her chest, Dawn let a mask of indifference fall over her features.
"You're 17 years old. You can't go running around these places. And I am getting really tired of chasing you down."
"So don't then. Leave me alone for once."
"You know I can't do that Dawnie."
Rage burned through Dawn. She was sick of people that couldn't get their own lives together telling her how to live. "Don't call me that! I'm not a child. I don't even know why you bother, it's not like you actually care."
"How can you say that? You're 'all' I care about."
Dawn shook her head. " No you don't, not really, you don't care about anything. You're dead, or may as well be." Her voice cracked on the last and the words fell between them like a weight.
"That may be true. But you're not and I intend to keep it that way."
Dawn studied the blank look on her sisters face. She wondered if Buffy even realized the complete lack of emotion in her voice.
(She's not even in there anymore.)
Tearing her gaze from Buffy, Dawn turned slowly and started to walk back towards the club entrance.
"Get back here. I'm not done…" Dawn froze as Buffy's fingers made contact with material of her coat. " What the hell are you wearing? Where did you get this?"
Before she could form an explanation in her mind, Buffy was tearing the material off her shoulders. She watched as Buffy held it for a minute and then let it drop to the ground. Dawn stared in stunned silence at Buffy's tortured face. Slowly bending down, she picked up Spike's duster and held it in front of her like a shield. Buffy's gaze was locked on the coat and Dawn felt the beginning of hope flow through her as the realization struck that her sister was actually feeling. True, it was pain, but at least it was something. Dawn lifted a tentative hand. "Buffy?"
Buffy jumped at the sound of her voice and brought her eyes back to Dawn's.
"You can't walk around wearing a murderer's jacket." Aloofness colored the words and diminished their impact.
Dawn saw the moment was passing as the light began to die again in Buffy's eyes. Desperate to get it back, Dawn used the only weapon she had available.
(I'm sorry Buffy but this is going to hurt…for both of us. )
"You wear Willow's necklace."
Buffy stumbled back a few steps like she's been slapped. "That's not the same thing."
Dawn let out a low, humorless laugh "Isn't it," she spat, "Willow killed people. She killed Xander and you don't hate her. Excuse me if I didn't realize that was a privilege you've reserved solely for Spike."
Buffy sunk to the ground as her legs lost the ability to support her. Burying her face in her knees, she fought the tears blocking her vision. She wiped at her face and looked up at her sister, silently pleading for understanding. Dawn stared back unflinching. No one seemed willing to let her hide anymore.
"It was an accident," she said quietly. "Spike is a vampire. Willow was just…."
"What? Human? Had a soul? What?" Dawn's words sliced like knives through her mind.
"Yes, all of that, she was human and in pain and she paid, with her life."
Dawn sat down and studied her for a minute, anger making her vibrate. "So if you die then that just wipes it all clean. Sorry if I didn't get that, must have missed the memo." Buffy flinched and Dawn pushed a little more. " You better get with the forgiving then Buffy, cause Spike's been dead a really long time."
Buffy shook her head in denial. "It's not the same. Willow did a lot of good things before…"
"So did Spike and in the same amount of years as Willow."
"How can you compare that? Willow did those things because she wanted to, not because…because she wanted something from me."
Dawn calmly folded her hands and prepared to rip her sister's self- contained world apart. "When are you going to figure out that the world is not black and white? It's gray Buffy. Why don't you get that? It's a whole big pile of freaking gray
"No, Spike spent over a hundred years-"
Dawn waved a hand dismissively " Yes he did. He spent a long time doing horrible things but did you ever consider who he was before? I mean before he was a vampire. Do you know what he did then?"
Buffy stared at Dawn, confusion evident on her face. "No," she said slowly," I guess not. Wait, he told me. He said he's always been bad."
Dawn moved to get up, the disgust on her face an accompaniment to her words, "I don't know why I'm bothering. You would never be able to face the possibility that maybe you could be wrong."
Buffy grabbed her arm. "Hold on here, he said…"
"Of course he did and you believed him. Did you ever once notice that you never believed a word he said unless it was what you wanted to hear? Something that fit into the "Buffy world view". You may as well have told him to be evil. Actually, I'm pretty sure you did."
Buffy wrapped her arms around her legs. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, I do. But I guess I'm not saying anything you want to hear. It's no big mystery why he left you. I know more than you ever did about him and I wasn't the one sleeping with him. Did you ever consider why?"
Buffy shook her head
"Because I 'did' listen, I 'let' myself know."
Dawn's superior attitude was beginning to break through Buffy's defenses. Actually it was beginning to piss her off. "What, Dawn? What do you know about Spike that I don't?"
Dawn shrugged and picked imaginary lint of her shirt. "Lots of things."
Really piss her off. 'Like how many lives he took? How he slaughtered and maimed innocent people? Sorry if I wasn't all with the curious approach on those little tidbits."
"That's not all we talked about, " Dawn said defensively. "I know things you never could. Because I asked, because I cared."
"I cared, Dawn. So you can cut the holier than thou crap."
"Really? Excuse me, I must have been mistaken. You two must have had some nice long chats while you were screwing each other into the floor."
Buffy cringed and Dawn smirked. Casting her a sidelong glance, Dawn raised an eyebrow. " What's his last name?"
"Spike has a last name?" Buffy desperately wished she could take back the question the second it left her mouth.
"Doesn't everybody?"
"Umm…Cher doesn't," Buffy mumbled.
Dawn ignored her. "It's Aldrige. What was his mother's name? His sisters? When was he born?"
"I…I don't know." Buffy lowered her head.
(Shit! I can rattle off Riley's family tree in my sleep. )
Dawn shook her head and answered the questions herself. "His mother was Mary-Anne. He had two sisters. Katherine and Cynthia. But they called Katherine, Kate because she was the baby."
"Yeah and what did they call her after he killed them." Buffy cringed at the sarcasm in her voice but she was trying vainly to hold onto a piece of her dignity.
"He didn't kill them. Spike is not Angel. When are you going to figure that out?"
"You believe him." Buffy knew it wasn't in question and desperately wished she could have the same conviction.
"Why wouldn't I. He had no reason to lie to me. But if you don't believe me why don't you find out?"
"How in the hell am I supposed to find that out."
Dawn rolled her eyes in the traditional 'duh' gesture. "We 'are' in England. He 'is' British."
With that, Dawn stood up and brushed at her pants, "I'm going home."
Buffy looked up and realized her sister was halfway down the alley. She completely lacked the energy to follow. Spike's jacket was now on the ground beside her and she reached for it. Slowly bringing the leather to her nose, she inhaled deeply. Dawn's perfume and shampoo, but underneath she caught his scent, tobacco, whiskey and mint.
(I know something. I know he smelled like peppermints. And I can guarantee she doesn't know why.)
Slowly running her hands over the inside lining of the coat, her fingers found the pocket hidden there. Pulling out a small green tin, she popped open the lid and smiled at the contents. He had always kept them there…for her. Buffy slowly put a mint in her mouth and brushed at the tears sliding down her cheeks. The events of the evening had proven one thing, her time was up. Tomorrow was here whether she liked it or not.
"No one's been in this section for years."
Buffy glanced up at the woman assigned to show her around, wondering when she would leave. Moving towards the graveyard portion of the estate, she trailed a hand over the name carved on the last one in the row.
(Hey, Spike. It took me a while but I found you.)
"Yes, it was quite sad. They died so young then, he was only 24. But look, the others lived a long life."
Buffy forced her gaze to the other slabs in the family plot. Katherine, Mary-Anne, Cynthia, they all died after him. Long after him. She sat down on his grave and ignored the horrified look on the woman's face. Probably wouldn't do to tell her that it was empty, but it would almost be worth the expression on her sour face.
"Well I'm off, but you stay as long as you like. I hope those diaries I found help."
Buffy nodded at her departure and stared at the diary in her lap.
Flipping through a few pages she sighed and pulled her worn leather duster closer.
(He'd be so pissed right now. Not only am I sitting on his grave, I've got his diary and his coat. The 'bloody hells' would be flying.)
A slight giggle escaped her lips and she quickly looked around to see if anyone had witnessed the crazy woman laughing in the graveyard. Assured of her solitude, Buffy leaned sideways and contemplated his tombstone.
"Who would have thought you'd be a 'beloved' anything. Well maybe Drusilla would but we all know she's nuts."
Buffy reached out and traced the letters again.
"I think about you. Not all the time of course but sometimes I wonder where you are and if you're okay. Do you ever notice that you only realize how much you miss people after they leave? I mean, if we knew that before maybe we would be a little nicer when they 'are' there."
Buffy dropped her hand and rubbed at a speck of dirt on her jeans.
"Maybe then I wouldn't be sitting here talking to an empty grave."
Staring at the diary, she thought about all the decisions she had been forced to make in the last few weeks, rejoining the council being the biggest. The first training session was scheduled for tonight and the idea filled her with a sense of dread.
"I'm just going to hang out here for a bit, okay."
Opening the book to the last entry she leaned back against his tombstone and started to read.
May 24, 1880
I am attending a small gathering tonight. I am fairly consumed with excitement. It has been said that she will attend. Cecily. Her name alone inspires beauty. One can only hope…well I can only hope that someday she will see me as I see her.
Mother is calling and I must quit this entry as I will be preparing to leave soon. Maybe tomorrow I will have happy news to share.
William Christopher Aldrige
TBC…
I know this part was a little 'Spike-light' but now that Buffy is learning to deal, he gets the whole next chapter to himself. It's only fair.