CRADLE

Disclaimer, etc. as on first chapter.
A/N:
Sorry, once again, for the delay. I should really make my computer auto-type that. Anyhoo, this chapter has another conversation between Anya and Spike, since Darryl complained about my leaving it with them 'forgetting about it'… And the party, of course. And Giles' letter to the Scoobies, to some degree. Oh, and the B/S conversation? Well, we'll just see...

Incidentally, I frelling hate writing for Anya. She's impossible, and I'm out of practice, so forgive it if it's weird or out-of-character…

I apologise for the pointlessness of this chapter, but hey, at least it's a chapter, and it needed to be done... As the advert (in England, at least) states: "All good things..."

Cradle

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The taxi Buffy had hired was nearing home at last, and relief coursed through her at finally being back on familiar ground, in surroundings she recognised. England was all very well, but she didn't like being constantly disorientated and semi-lost whenever she looked around her. It made her nervous; a Slayer was supposed to know her territory, and, although she'd had no need to be the Slayer in England, she was still wary that she didn't know all the vamp hotspots and back streets as well as she did in Sunnydale.

She'd spent the journey fairly relaxed, and had resisted the urge to read the Scoobies' letter on the plane. She had very little to worry about, but was also slightly apprehensive as to how her friends would take the news of Giles' absence. She'd been deliberately cryptic on the telephone to Dawn, who obviously didn't suspect a thing, thus confirming her suspicions that he hadn't told them he wasn't coming back.

Contrary to what she'd been rambling about at the airport, she knew she had to talk to Spike, tempting though it was not to bother. They needed to get all the apologies, forgiveness, and explanations out of the way, before figuring out what to do next. After the summer they'd spent, stuck in their constant cycle of hurt (she figured it certainly didn't constitute a healthy relationship), Buffy wasn't entirely sure if they could make it work.

Nevertheless, she was more than willing to try, and was pretty sure that Spike was, too. He'd changed a lot since returning from Africa, gaining a soul notwithstanding; most of his original cockiness had gone, and even when he was acting like his old self, it seemed a little forced. Before he'd left, she'd been too afraid to let herself love him. He was a vampire - one excuse that wouldn't ever fly, after Angel. He was evil - another one that wouldn't fly, because, no matter what she kept telling herself, he'd proven he wasn't more times than she could count. Above all of this, he wasn't the good, normal guy she'd been clamouring for her entire life… but sooner or later she had to accept that it wasn't going to happen that way. She was a Slayer, and no amount of 'normality' would change who - and what - she was.

She smiled to herself. No, nothing would change who she was. And the wonderful thing was, Spike didn't want to change her. They were both creatures of the night, Buffy by choice, and Spike by default. It was never going to be the perfect, ordinary relationship she'd always told herself she wanted, but lately, she'd actually started to realise that nothing was perfect, and living on the Hellmouth meant that nothing would ever be ordinary, either…

Back at the house, the Scoobies finally collapsed on the couch after their manic forty-five minutes of party-making. The banner was up, the food was all ready, the balloons were inflated and thrown liberally around the house (although this was probably an understatement, as they completely covered the floor), and they'd all designated themselves various hiding places. It was late afternoon by this point and the sun was just starting to set, and the lounge was dim without the lights on.

All of them were present except for Spike, who was skulking somewhat nervously by the basement door, still trying to decide whether or not to join in with the surprise. As he'd said before, he'd already surprised the Slayer enough lately to last a lifetime, and he didn't really feel like partying, particularly. He'd much rather have Buffy all to himself when she got back, which wasn't going to happen with all of her friends and her sister around the place. Hence, he'd just come to the decision to hide in the basement, and was just about to go back down there, one hand on the door handle, when Anya wandered into the kitchen to look for something she'd apparently forgotten.

"Spike? Where are you going?"

He cursed under his breath at the Scoobies' general awful timing, and turned to face her. Excuses were never his strong suit, and he fumbled about with an explanation. "I, um… just going…"

"Are you hiding?"

"No!" he said, defensively. "Well… all right. Yeah."

"Why?" Her tone was partly accusatory, and partly superior, as if Spike hiding was the least of her worries and she was only asking out of common courtesy.

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Now, if you don't mind, you can just get whatever it is you came in here for, and I'll go back to my hiding…"

Anya began rooting in a drawer, still addressing him. "I would've thought you'd be glad to join in the party. I mean, what part of "Buffy's-coming-home" didn't you understand?"

"If Buffy wants to see me, she will. Just not in the mood for a party, is all."

"Suit yourself." The vengeance demon clearly wasn't in any mood to be arguing with him, so she just accepted this and started to head back to the lounge. Spike could tell, by this point, that something was still bothering her, and he knew it was probably a bad idea to ask, but he couldn't help himself.

"Before I lock myself in the basement away from the Scooby festivities… is something wrong?"

"Nope."

"Pull the other one, Anya. You're not exactly in a party mood yourself."

She was caught, and she knew it. She wasn't entirely willing to have another heart-to-heart with Spike, but since the last one hadn't been as mortifyingly embarrassing as she'd imagined, it couldn't hurt to tell him. "It's nothing. Just… vengeance demon PMS."

"I… imagine that's not pretty."

"It's like Slayer PMS to the power of ten," she informed him. Spike took a step back, in case he accidentally managed to provoke her. "And… I've been thinking about that conversation we had the other night."

"Ah…" He knew it had to be something to do with that. "Still having problems with the Whelp?"

"Not that you'd notice. Actually, we're getting on just fine; everyone is. And I meant about the other part of the conversation… The, um, 'us' part."

"The lack of 'us' part," he corrected her, quickly.

"Whatever." She sighed. "But we agreed to forget about it."

"That, we did." A pause. She didn't say anything. "And…?" he prompted.

"I can't."

He almost made a crack about that, but her expression quite clearly indicated that if he tried it, he was dust, so he bit his tongue and attempted to be a voice of sympathy. "I see…"

"I mean… it doesn't feel right to forget about it. It happened, and it was a mistake, but we got over it, so what are we forgetting?"

"The fact that we hurt the people we love?"

"We can't expect them to forget it, too, Spike…" She was right, annoyingly. "Forgetting'll make it easier, sure. But if I've learnt anything from my experiences with Xander, it's that easier isn't necessarily better."

"I don't know about that," he pondered. "I'd go for a bit of 'easier' on occasion…"

"We all would, but that's not the point."

They stared each other down. "So what are you saying, then?" asked Spike. "That we made a horrible mistake and we should be proud of it?"

Anya sighed heavily. He wasn't getting it. She chose not to think too hard about his wording - a 'horrible mistake' wasn't exactly the nicest way of putting it, after all - and instead tried to explain her reasoning. "No, of course not. Only that we should accept that it was just that - a mistake - and not dwell on it. Or forget it like it never happened, either. I mean, come on… if it'd never happened, I bet you and Buffy would still be the problem couple of the year, and me and Xander would probably still be hating each other."

Spike finally had to admit that she was right, much as he was loath to. Nevertheless, he wasn't prepared to stay for the party, and Buffy would be arriving soon. He cast a glance outside - it was dark enough now for him to go out and not burst into flames - then looked back over at Anya, who was giving him an expectant, questioning look. "Fair enough," he said. She seemed to accept this as an agreement; now that it was sorted and out of the way, Spike headed to the door.

"Whoa, where are you going?" she asked. "I thought you were only hiding, and now you're running away?"

"I'm not running away," he informed her. "I'm just… going for a walk. Buffy 'n' I have a lot to talk about later and I want to think some things through, if that's all right with you?" She nodded, not wanting to argue with his tone of voice.

"Where're you going? In case anyone asks…"

"I doubt anyone will, but…" He thought about it. "Look, I don't know. I'm going… I'm going back to where this all began." On this cryptic note, he got out before she could ask him any more questions, disappearing into the night. Anya thought about his answer for a few moments, before deciding it might mean more to Buffy anyway, and joining the others in the lounge.

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief as the cab pulled up in front of her house. The lights were all out, as she partially expected - they were probably out patrolling in her absence. Either that or they were all asleep. It didn't matter, anyway; she was pretty sure that Spike would be waiting for her, no matter what, and, awful though it sounded, he was the only one she really wanted to see at that moment. She was dreading her friends' reactions to the news about Giles.

She paid the driver and lugged her case out of the taxi and up to the front door. Unlocking it, and stepping inside, she didn't bother with the lights. "Hello?"

There was no reply. Then, two seconds later, as soon as she'd shut the door, the lights came on, and she was ambushed on all sides by her friends and sister throwing streamers and yelling "Welcome home!!" at her. Somewhat taken aback, her smile was a delayed reaction, and she was so surprised she didn't even think to look for Spike amongst them. Although, she really didn't have time to, because she was immediately hugged by Dawn, who then dragged her further into the living room so she could see the decorations.

They'd eventually succeeded in getting the banner up (although not to Anya's exacting standards) and it looked rather impressive. It was painted in various colours and had the words "Welcome home, Buffy and Giles!" scrawled across it; there was a Union Jack on one side, and the Stars and Stripes (with probably a few too little stars) on the other. The floor was a veritable sea of balloons courtesy of Spike's inability to gauge how many was too many, and the dining room table was laid out with a variety of party foods. Willow's surprise turned out to be another batch of her infamous redemption-cookies, made by hand without the aid of any magic whatsoever, and chock-full of chocolate-y goodness.

Buffy smiled, and gave each of her friends another hug each. "Thanks, you guys. I can't believe you made all this effort."

Dawn grinned. "No biggie, Buff. And look! We all stayed alive and everything!"

"So you did," she agreed. "Lemme take my stuff upstairs and get changed and we can start the party." They all nodded various affirmatives, and Buffy started towards the stairs. She got as far as putting a hand to her case when she stopped, realising something was missing from this situation. She turned again, to face her friends, and surveyed the room. Yes. Definitely something missing. But what was… oh.

"Guys? Where's Spike?"

Apparently, the Scoobies had come to the same conclusion at the same time, and her question coincided exactly with Xander's "Buffy? Where's Giles?"

She'd almost forgotten. Leaving her case alone, she slowly returned to the room; her expression suggested that they should all sit down, which they did, apprehensively. She felt in her pocket for the letter he'd given her, and held onto it firmly, for support, as she spoke.

"Giles, uh… he… he isn't with me."

"No duh," said Dawn, suddenly reverting to being twelve. "Where is he, then?"

"He stayed in England," she said, quickly.

"What? Why?" That was Willow, fighting against her pouty-face and failing horribly. "Did the Watchers' Council call him back?"

"No, nothing like that. Look, he gave me this." She pulled the letter out of her pocket, and handed it to Xander. "It explains everything better than he probably could have told me, under the circumstances. All I know is that he thinks it's time for us to move on without him, live our own lives. I agree with him. I didn't want to lose him either, but it's for the best." She paused. They all stared at the, as yet, unopened envelope in Xander's hands, curiously, almost fearful of the contents. "I… I think he's probably put something in there for all of you. I didn't read it."

"He didn't say goodbye…" muttered Anya, pitifully. Buffy'd had a feeling his absence would hit her hard.

"Yeah, I know. But… he did, to me, and that's what he wanted. He hates saying goodbye; you know that. Especially to me… but he didn't get the chance the last two times, and… I guess he didn't want to involve you. He knew we'd try to make him stay if he told us. Hell, I did."

Silence fell, and they continued to stare at the letter. Xander had apparently been assigned to read it out, but didn't look particularly inclined to do so at that moment in time. Buffy stared at them a while, realising they still hadn't answered her question. She gave them a few minutes to recover from her news before pressing with it again.

"So, um, where's Spike?"

They looked at her, and shrugged. Nobody had seen him since he'd blown up the balloons, but couldn't think exactly when that had been. Anya, however, shifted uncomfortably in her seat and tried to change the subject.

"Come on, Xander. Open it."

Buffy interrupted. "No, Anya. You can open it once I know where Spike is. You know, don't you?" It was pointless trying to deny it. The vengeance demon got up from her seat and indicated for Buffy to follow her into the kitchen, leaving the others to discuss the latest news about Giles. Once they were in there, Buffy folded her arms and put on her best 'mom' pose, that she often adopted with Dawn, and an expression that demanded an explanation. "Well?"

Anya shifted uncomfortably. Her comment to Spike about vengeance demon PMS was suddenly promising to be less true than she'd originally thought, when confronted with five-foot-two-inches of cranky Slayer. "I… I spoke to him a few minutes before you arrived."

"Great. So where is he?"

"I have no idea. He wouldn't tell me." She sounded decidedly snippy. "I just know he didn't want to talk to you while we were all here."

Buffy sighed. That sounded like Spike, all right. And now she came to think about it, it probably would be impossible to have a serious conversation whilst there was the possibility of being constantly interrupted. Taking it out on Anya wasn't particularly productive, and she was upset enough already from the news about Giles. "Sorry, Anya. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"

She shook her head. "He did say something about going back to where it began. Whatever that means."

The Slayer looked thoughtful. "I think I might have an idea… Thanks." So saying, she headed towards the back door.

"Don't you want to know what the letter says?"

"I imagine it's just for you guys; he's said all he wanted to me. If there's a message, I'll read it later. Right now, I have to find Spike."

With that, she was gone. Anya sighed heavily and made her way back into the lounge, where Dawn, Xander and Willow were still staring solemnly at the unopened letter. Her curiosity was damn near killing her by this point, and she squeezed onto the couch next to them, and said. "Geez, Xander, it's not a will, you know…"

"Yeah, I know…"

There was a long pause. Judging by the envelope, the letter seemed to be fairly lengthy, and addressed to nobody in particular, as there was no name on the front. Obviously, Giles had been unable to decide what to put there, or unwilling to single out any one person as addressee. Finally, Xander took a deep breath, and opened it…

On the streets of Sunnydale…

Buffy realised too late that she'd run out of the house unarmed, and if a vamp decided to jump her, she'd be essentially defenceless. She'd already lost enough time, though, and didn't want to go back for her stake; that would just make her even later meeting up with Spike. If she ever found him. Sunnydale as a city was relatively small, but when someone wanted to hide, it proved very useful. There were too many abandoned places, and too many hidey-holes for the evil and slimy - but, as it was sat above the Hellmouth, that figured.

'Back to where it all began,', Anya had said. That could mean anything where Spike was concerned. If he was speaking metaphorically, there were any number of demon hotspots or maybe even churches where he could have gone, and it would take hours to search them all. Too theological, possibly. She instinctively looked up at the sky - that's where everything began, after all, millions of years ago - but discounted it. She was thinking about it too hard, and doubted he'd be that cryptic. That was obscure even for Spike. So he must have meant literally, in which case… back to when what began? His life? Her life? Well, the former would be England, surely; she stifled a groan at that thought, not entirely ready to go back there just yet, or having to explain to Giles once she was. And if the latter, well… she couldn't remember where she was born, exactly, and she was pretty sure Spike had no idea.

She stopped walking - it wasn't helping - and sat down on the pavement to think properly. 'Back to where it all began…' Come on, Buffy. This is Spike. What the Hell could he possibly mean?

Considering their latest situation, Buffy started narrowing down the possibilities: soul, vampire, love. Okay. Soul. Well, surely that meant Africa? She'd put that idea to one side for the moment; moving on: vampire. Where had he been Sired? London. Damn. She was just going around in circles. One possibility left: love. It was all-encompassing. She started thinking it through logically. When had he fallen in love with her? And where would he have been? She supposed either the tree outside her room - but that was too obvious, and if he had been sitting in that tree all the time she was searching for him, she was going to kill him where he stood - or his crypt. The latter made a lot of sense - the site of their first non-spell-induced kiss, and many liaisons after that… but it also held bad memories, so maybe that wasn't it after all. Which really gave her only one more logical option - wherever it was they'd met for the first time.

Her mind drew a blank at first. It had been so long ago; somewhat guiltily, she realised she could recall precisely where she'd first met Angel, but Spike…? Had it been Hallowe'en? In some back alley? No, surely not… the High School, maybe. That sounded more plausible. That had been their first fight, when he'd first introduced himself - in a way - and claimed to be her future demise. That was it. The old High School.

Determined, she got up again and set off dutifully in that direction, trying to remember the way. She was feeling immensely proud of herself for having figured it out, but it was just as quickly overcome by dread at the upcoming difficult conversation, and she had no idea how to begin, or even what to actually discuss. She supposed that would just make itself apparent as they talked.

As Buffy rounded a corner, something caught her eye: a streetlight reflecting off the metallic sign of the Bronze. She stopped in her tracks. The Bronze… wait a second… They hadn't met at the High School at all; it had been at the Bronze, while she was embarrassing herself close-dancing with Xander. The memory made her blush, but only for a second, because then she remembered how the not-so-tall-or-dark stranger had come up to her on the dance floor. This had been where they'd first met. This was precisely what he was referring to; she could see it now. He was always talking about their dancing together, right from the beginning… and this was the site of their first dance.

She smiled to herself, smugly, but it soon dropped as she tried to find a way in. Reality hit with a thud. It was time to talk with Spike.

To be continued…

A/N: Argh! Don't kill me! You'll be pleased to know that I already have half of their Conversation written and it's going to be good, I promise. Oh, come on. As if I'd let you have it this chapter. Where've you been for the past 27 of them? :P So, yes. Penultimate chapter 29 coming a lot sooner than this one. Honest. I'm very close to 200 reviews now, so keep 'em coming, lovely readers :)