Chapter 3 (Familiar)

The car ride back to their home was dull and the air was thick with summer humidity. Buffy and Guiseppe did not speak. He stared hard at her, trying to see through her, but she kept her eyes down. And felt strangely guarded by the heavy air around her.

Her heart was betraying her mind. She couldn't stop feeling things. All about that stranger. His lips. His fingers. His breath. His smirk. His stare. He was everywhere and Buffy knew if she met her boss's eyes, she would give herself away. So she fixed her eyes at her feet and tried not to breathe.

It had been a long night and dawn was still several hours away. It felt as if it would never come. And somehow that feeling was familiar.

When they got home, she went to her room, or rather the room that she lived in. Buffy sat in the window staring out at the darkness. Lately it felt as if that were the only thing she could do. Stare-well, stare and sing. She sang every night of the week with no break. She didn't mind. It gave her something to do while she stared. But tonight something had stirred. Something was different. There was an itch on her that needed scratching.

Tonight when she saw William-or Spike-whatever his name was, she felt as if she could do something else. As if she were someone else. Meant for someplace else. Somewhere bigger than Heaven.

And it was a thought she never had before. Heaven was the top of the ladder in her world. Working for the Russomano clan was a dream for her. And Angel had always treated her like an angel. She should be grateful to them- for their kindnesses.

Angel and his father had taken her in when she had nowhere else to go, no one else to go to. They had given her a home and their love. And she loved them back. She did. She loved them as much as she could.

That was the part she kept to herself, the part that made her a mystery. It kept her separate.

She loved them as much as she could. It was the best she could do. After all, how could she love them with all her heart? She could not even be certain whom her heart belonged to. Who was she? Who had been in her heart before? She did not know.

Buffy woke up one day in an alley behind Heaven. And that was the day her life started. She couldn't remember anything before that day. Guiseppe called that day her birthday.

She just opened her eyes. At first she couldn't see anything-it was dark and the air was cold, like a slap across the face. She saw her breath. That was what she saw first. And the first thing she felt was a swift kick in the stomach. One that made all the air come out of her and billow out into the night like a cool mist. And she almost marveled at the beauty of it until she realized she was fighting.

And that was her first memory. She didn't even know she could fight. But she did. And it was a good thing too because the man coming at her looked like a monster. His forehead was bumpy and his eyes seemed to be a pale shade of yellow. It didn't seem to slow her down. She was on autopilot when she picked up a piece of plywood and drove it through his heart. He disappeared into thin air and she stood there gasping for breath, uncertain what to do next.

But it was obvious.

Guiseppe walked into her life, down the alley, and found her panting in rags. He took her in. Invited her into his home that he shared with his only son, Angel. They were an unlikely pair, but what did Buffy know about family. So she accepted their strangeness and blended hers with theirs and they all became a whole. And it had stayed like that for many years.

At first Buffy was terribly sad. She couldn't remember who she was and that feeling crushed her chest and made it so she couldn't breathe. She would scream out every time she fell asleep for people whose names she didn't recognize. Guiseppe got her the best doctors that money could afford. But nothing changed.

She never slept. At night, she would wander around the city streets and sing to herself through the dark alleys. Her walks would last all night and she would only wander back to the house at dawn. She always felt too lonely at dawn. As if she was forgetting something very important, so she went home.

Angel took to following her. He stalked her from shadow to shadow-he was a natural predator. He watched as she found the worst creatures the night had to offer and he saw as she turned them all to dust. Into nothing at all. And it scared him.

It reminded Angel of something somewhere. Of someone someplace else. But he couldn't remember what or who it was. So he told the boss about what he saw and heard.

Guiseppe was the boss of the house and of his club and no one ever questioned him. His guardianship over Buffy was natural. He brought her to the club so she would not walk the streets at night singing to herself. She was to come to Heaven and sing for the crowds. It was what he thought was best. And Buffy could not argue with the boss. After all, who was she to make trouble?

So he took her to Heaven and that is where she stayed every night since. Singing her heart out to strangers who fell in love with her for simply being who she was. Or rather, who she was not.

It was good enough. She felt safe up on that stage in the light, surrounded by the dark. It reminded her of something familiar.

The same something that the stranger reminded her of. He smelled of it, tasted of it, and she had to have it. It was coming for her from her past and it would not be denied. She wouldn't let it go this time. She couldn't.

And she stared out into the dark searching for him still. She willed him to find her here as he had found her backstage. She needed his touch and closed her eyes in order to better remember his face-the sharp profile of his cheekbones, the smoothness of his skin, and the pale of his hair. The way he smelled like salt and the cool of his body.

Her eyes were pressed so tightly together and her jaw was clenched firmly, trying to bring the memory of him back. She sat so still in her window, framed underneath the long vine-like arms of an old houseplant that hung from the ceiling in a blue croquet holder. The vines coiled themselves around some old get-well-soon cards that Guiseppe had hung on the wall. The vines looked like curtain shards. And everything was simply blowing in the wind coming in from the alley. Quiet dancing-like some kind of peace had floated near her cheeks, kissing her eyes, and had woken her from her apathy-but only for a moment to say a good-bye. The pages of the calendar whispered of times gone by as they rustled with the passing. Chimes came in with the air. Their song sounded like faeries whispering to her from an enchanted forest she vaguely remembered hearing once in a childhood dream. She could not let it go.

And suddenly she knew. She felt him then. She didn't see him approach but she sensed him come in with the breeze. She opened her eyes and he was there. Sitting on her fire escape. So simple. Easy as sin.

They only stared at each other for a long moment. His eyes were so wide taking her all in. As if he were surprised to see her! There was a subtle joy that played in those eyes as he gazed at her. He looked so innocent.

But Buffy knew better. He was a killer. She had seen him kill tonight. She backed slowly away from the window without breaking their gaze and watched him fall a little deeper inside himself at her realization.

He climbed through the window into her bedroom and tried to come closer to her. As if they knew each other. As if this should somehow be familiar.

"Stop it," she warned him. "Right there."

"Or what, pet?" he pushed as he drew closer to her.

She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments. She wanted him closer. She could smell him from there. One more step and she would fall in his arms. But she clenched her jaw in decision.

"Or I will kill you," Buffy said with such ferocity he stopped dead.

"And I believe you would," he said with a slight smile creeping up the corners of his mouth as put his arms up in mock surrender. "So what now, Buffy?"

"How do you know my name?" she questioned him with a slant in her eye and her fists clenched ready to strike.

"The witch told me," he shrugged. "Well, at least I think she is a witch. She keeps appearing and disappearing with the shadows," Will smiled and gestured with his hands that were still up in the air. But Buffy didn't seem to understand him. "You know, love, the bit with the red hair? Wears a cape with a little hood?" Still no reaction from Buffy. Will let his hands fall to his side. "Well, she knew you, Buffy. That is your name, isn't it?"

"That's that they call me," she replied, dropping her guard a bit. "Why did a witch tell you my name?"

"Not sure exactly, but she said I could trust you," Will said as he drew nearer to her. "Is she right about that too, Buffy?"

"Well, I can't trust you. You're a killer. You tried to kill my boss-my guardian. I could scream right now and his men would burst through the door and kill you so fast you wouldn't know what happened," she said as she turned her back to him.

"But you haven't given me away just yet," he said softly. "So maybe I can trust you after all. And for the record, I didn't try to kill your boss tonight."

"Oh no?" she questioned, her voice getting a little tight. "Angel says you're an enemy-a rat-and the only reason you were there was to hit Guiseppe, but you failed."

"Is that what Angel-face says?" Will scoffed, although he was getting upset at the tone that was creeping into her voice. It sounded vaguely like disgust. "What does he know about me anyway? I'll have you know why I came into Heaven tonight--" he started to explain, but got caught up in Buffy's big, doe eyes that were searching his face for answers.

Will had to blink a couple of times to come to his senses. Buffy looked down for a moment too. When they looked at each other again, Will couldn't help himself-he told her the truth.

"Angel-face wasn't all wrong. I won't lie to you. There is a hit on your boss and I'm the bloke to carry it out. But that's NOT why I was there tonight. Tonight I came because you called me."

Buffy rolled her eyes but Will stepped to her fast and grabbed her arm to pull her to him. But before he could explain what he meant, Buffy jumped up and kissed Will hard on the lips. He melted into her and she remembered this spark between them.

Her hands found their way through his messy blonde curls and he lifted her up and carried her to the bed. As he lay her down on the bed, she bit his lip and he smiled at the pain. Will gently kissed her face and her neck. He lightly slipped off her silk robe and kissed her bare breasts in the fading moonlight. Will moved his lips down to her stomach and his hands were all over her, caressing her in all the right places.

She moaned quietly in enchantment and with a force Will did not expect, she ripped off his shirt, popping the buttons one by one, and climbed on top of him. He chuckled a little in the deep of his throat and was reminded of the familiarity of this feeling. This woman--

"Buffy," he whispered. "I know you from somewhere, don't I?" he asked with such innocence and longing.

"Yes, you do, Spike. And I know you too," she assured him. "I knew it from the first second you stepped foot into my Heaven. I knew I was incomplete. But now you found me."

He looked up at her in surprise and recognition. "You called me Spike."

She kissed both his eyes closed. Then their words stopped and their lips met. Again.

TBC Depending on if anyone cares about this story.