Chapter 2 - Dreams and Memories
It's been two weeks since I left Angel. It seems like longer, but no, I don't regret it. I can honestly say that I'm even more sure now that it was the right decision than I was at the time.
I've been looking at apartments, but I haven't seen anything I like yet. Wes and Gina have been great. They haven't put me under any kind of pressure - if anything Gina seems to be happier if I don't move out for a while.
I think she's enjoying having me around. Wes works long hours, and while I'm at work too, my hours are rather more predictable. We've spent a lot of evenings chatting about almost nothing. It's been great, something I didn't even realise I was missing since Dawn moved away.
Which leads me to the problem. You see, not long after I moved in with him, I suggested to Angel that we should get away for a few days. He didn't say no, but then he didn't agree either. I blanked out a week in my schedule anyway. Next week. But, there doesn't seem much point in taking the time off now.
As it happens, Gina and Wes are going away the same week. They're catching a flight to Seattle, and spending a week in a rented place in Tacoma.
I get back to find Gina in the middle of sorting out her wardrobe. Well, it looks more like she's just emptied every item of clothing she owns all over the bed and floor. She's not looking too happy when I poke my head in.
"Why did I agree to go away?" she asks me, sitting in the middle of the chaos with her head in her hands.
"Because you'll enjoy the break? Because it's time you persuaded that husband of yours to take some time off? Because you're going to have a great time?"
"Well," she admits. "That was the original plan, but there's so much I can't wear any more."
"Gina, you're hardly showing yet," I remind her. "There's got to be something!"
"Nothing right for a vacation. I've been living in sweats since school finished. I need to look sexy for this week. Next time we get the chance to go away, I'll either be huge and ugly, or we'll already have the baby."
She really looks down, so I offer to help. "Look, let me change, and I'll come in and help. You know Wes is going to love you whatever you wear, so I don't know why you're worrying."
The grateful look she gives me makes me smile. Gina is gorgeous. I know it, and I know Wes knows it. I go into my room, and pull off my suit and blouse, pulling on jeans and a T-shirt instead. When I go back, it's obvious Gina has been doing something to sort out the mess.
We spend a couple of hours going through the options, and while she can't get away with some of the skimpier things she has, particularly tops which are pulling over her already swelling breasts, she's going to look great.
Together, we return the discarded items to hangers and drawers in companionable silence. The nature of the silence changes as we get towards the end of the job, and I look up expectantly at her.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"Come with us," she asks.
I'm momentarily confused, but then I realise what she's asking.
"Go on vacation with you?" I repeat, making sure I haven't misunderstood.
She nods, looking up into my face.
"I can't." I tell her. "Wes doesn't want me tagging along with you."
"He won't mind," she argues. "And, the place we've rented is more than big enough to give us privacy when we want it."
"I still can't see why you'd want me along."
"You don't know what Wes is like on vacation, do you?"
"Well, I can't say I do."
"He'll take his laptop, and he'll be doing some work every day. Since you persuaded Giles to contact him, he's been working harder than ever, and that's not going to stop just because we're away."
"Just tell him you need his attention. He can work when you get back. It's not as if the world's going to end in the next week."
She smiles at that. "Look, I love Wes. I really do. But I know what he's like. If he has to spend a week without knowing what's going on at the office, he'll be miserable. And I don't want him miserable. So, you'd be doing me a favour - and him too. If we can spend some time together, he won't feel guilty about the time he's going to spend working anyway."
She's being very persuasive and my calendar's clear for the week anyway. I can feel my resolve crumbling.
"I don't have a flight."
"I'm sure you can get one."
"Are you sure Wes won't mind?"
"Do you want me to call and ask him?"
I nod, realising that I really want to get out of LA for a while.
Ten minutes later, she hands me the phone.
"Buffy, of course you'd be welcome. Gina's right, I'll feel better if she's got someone to spend time with while I'm working. Please say you'll come."
"Ok," I answer. "I'll just need to book a flight."
"No need, I'll get my secretary to do that."
"But, I'm paying for it," I insist, "and I'll give you something towards the rental."
"Well, you can pay for the flight if you insist, but the rental's paid, and so is the car. I'll try to get the same flight, but if I can't, I'll get the closest I can."
"Thanks, Wes."
And so, I go into my own room and start to look through my clothes for what I want to take. Wes calls back within half an hour to confirm that he's managed to get a seat on the same flight they're booked on. It's on Friday evening, taking off at six-thirty from LAX, getting into Seattle just after nine. It'll be late when we get there, but then we'll have the whole week to enjoy it.
I can't help but think about how lucky I am. I've always had friends around me, from the Scoobies in my Slayer days, to Wes and Gina now.
When I think about the Wes I met back in Sunnydale, it's hard to believe he's the same man. Then, he, well, I suppose he was just a product of his upbringing and training. Now, he's a man who knows he's good at what he does, and he knows that what he's doing is important. Oh yes, and he's totally besotted with Gina, and surprisingly nervous about the prospect of being a dad.
In the two weeks I've been here, I've had a chance to find out what it's like to have a big brother - because that's how he's been treating me. He's made several trips over to Angel's apartment to pick up the rest of my stuff, because he knows I'm not ready to see him again yet. I'm feeling pampered and cared for, but there's no threat to my independence involved - it's just what I need.
Friday at work goes quickly, and Wes and Gina pick me up afterwards, my case already packed and in the trunk. The banter between us on the way is light-hearted and happy. I can feel the strain of the past few weeks melting away as we get further from LA. Even though I know it was the right decision, leaving Angel was hard. Somehow, through everything since Sunnydale, Angel's been there, a sort of ultimate goal, or at least an insurance policy. As time's gone on, and I haven't met someone I could fall in love with, I've always had the possibility that Angel and I could eventually get together. Now, that I know that can't work, it almost feels like I'm starting over again.
It's dark long before we arrive at our destination, and Gina fell asleep in the car during the drive to the house. Wes helps Gina inside and puts her to bed, while I unpack the car. I might not use those Slayer muscles as much as I used to, but there're times when they come in handy.
Gina packed some food, just some basics to get us started, and I'm putting those away when Wes reappears.
"Oh, you've unpacked the car," he notices, looking at the bags I've left in the hallway.
"There's not so much," I offer, shrugging. He looks slightly embarrassed. He might not be the man who first came to Sunnydale, but some parts of him are still there under the surface. One part, the 'perfect English gentleman' who doesn't feel women should have to unpack cars, is obviously not comfortable with what I've done.
"Slayer muscles," I remind him. "Go and look after your wife," I tell him, shooing him out of the kitchen. He knows I spotted his discomfort, and smiles back at me, before shrugging and picking up the bags containing their things.
Once I've finished in the kitchen, I pick up my own bag, and find the second bedroom. I open the door slightly hesitantly. Obviously, Wes and Gina have taken the master bedroom, and I have visions of a tiny room with bunk beds in my mind.
I couldn't have been more wrong. My first thought is that I've got the wrong room. It's large, well furnished, and there's a queen-sized bed. All of that pales into insignificance when I look across to the far wall. Most of it is glass, with a patio door that seems to lead out onto a deck. I open the door, and walk outside. The view is amazing, leading down to forest below. I'm almost tempted to go and tell Wes that he chose the wrong room, but I don't want to disturb Gina.
I do a quick round of the rest of the house. The living rooms and the kitchen are on the upper floor, and the bedrooms and bathrooms are below. The dining room has an almost identical view to the one from my bedroom, and the largest of the living rooms has another deck, leading out to a view from another angle. I'm relieved by one thing. There's enough room to make sure that Wes and Gina can have privacy, without me having to consciously keep out of the way. The last of my reservations about coming away with them melt, and I go back to the kitchen, pour myself a diet coke, and return to the deck off my own room to sit and think.
It's very late when I finally go to bed, but I'm already feeling more relaxed than I can remember for a long time.
I recognise it as soon as it starts. It's one of the old dreams, one I haven't had for a long time. Spike and I are back in the cave, and I rescue him, the dream ending as we emerge from the gloom of the cave.
That dream shifts unerringly to the second. I take his hand and the flames engulf our enmeshed fingers. He pushes me away, tells me to go, but I don't, I hold onto his hand tighter as the flames burn hotter, and then they spread, along my arm, to my body, and I know that Spike and I will always be together.
The image shifts again, but this one is new. I'm not in the cave. I don't recognise the place, but it looks familiar, as if I've seen something similar, rather than this particular room before. In the centre of the room is a huge pit, and from where I am, I can see the smoke rising, and I can feel the heat. Despite that, I know I need to look inside, so I approach, slowly, carefully, not knowing what I'm supposed to see.
And there he is. It's Spike, and he's on fire, but his body's not being consumed. He's screaming, I can see his mouth opening, but there's no sound. His arms are raised towards me, and I know he's begging me to help him, to end his agony. I reach as far as I can, but it's not far enough.
I sense someone behind me, and I look round, relieved to see Angel, because he'll help. I tell him to hold onto me, keep me from falling into the pit while I reach further. His hands are around my waist, but, instead of allowing me to reach closer to Spike, he's pulling me away. I start to struggle, trying to pull him towards the pit, but he's shaking his head and smiling.
"No, Buffy, you can't. You'll fall in too. You can't save him."
I struggle harder, and eventually manage to pull free. I lie on the floor, reaching out as far as I can, only to see that Spike has sunk further into the flames. I reach even further, but he's sinking, getting further away from me, and I realise that it's too late.
I waken with a start, and feel the dampness of my pillow. I've been crying, and I lie still, willing my breathing to slow, my heart rate to calm. Slowly, they do, but the tears continue. Suddenly, it's no longer difficult to remember Spike. Everything he ever said, everything he ever did, every touch, each caress, is as clear in my mind as it ever was, and the hole inside me at his loss is as raw as it was when I first knew he was gone.
I must have slept, because the darkness has been replaced by bright sunshine coming through the gap in the curtains. I get up, and open them further to feast my eyes on the view. Beautiful as it was in the dark, it's even better now. I force myself to turn my back on the view, and go into the bathroom.
When I'm showered and dressed, I find my way upstairs. I hear chatting from the dining room, so I poke my head in to see Gina and Wes finishing their breakfast.
"Isn't the view spectacular?" Gina enthuses when she sees me.
"Beautiful, but I think you took the wrong room, Wes."
"Why, what's wrong with your room?" he asks.
"Nothing, it's just, well, it looks like the master bedroom, and..."
They both grin, and then Gina jumps up and grabs my arm, dragging me back downstairs. She opens the door of their room, and pulls me inside.
There was no mistake. The room is even bigger than mine, and it has a king-sized bed. There's also a deck off this room which gives a view very similar to mine. Most surprising, is the bathroom. I've got a shower and a bath; they've got that and a Jacuzzi.
When we get back to the dining room, Wes has gone.
"He'll be at his computer," Gina tells me. "There's a study along the hall, and he said he'd set himself up in there. So, we won't see him for a couple of hours. Why don't you eat, and we'll plan what to do today?"
The next couple of days pass extremely pleasantly. Gina and I spend the mornings together while Wes works, then in the afternoon, we head off together to explore further afield. It would all be perfect, but for one thing.
Spike. I can't get him out of my mind. I've had that same dream, the one where I'm trying to reach him, but Angel's holding me back, every night. And every night, I waken from it to a pillow wet with tears. Almost worse is what happens while we're out. All it takes is someone his build, or some short, bleached hair, or a pair of blue eyes, and I start, checking closer to make sure it's not really him. And, of course, it isn't. Gina's spotted something, but I haven't told her. I don't want her to spend her precious vacation worrying about me.
It's Monday evening. I'm due to meet up with Gina and Wes in an hour, and I'm making my way back to a store we saw earlier. I saw something, and I knew Dawn would love it, but I didn't buy it, and now I'm regretting it. It's a key, made of a beautiful polished green stone. It looks like jade, but I know it's not. I saw it, and immediately thought of her.
As I walk, I spot him ahead of me. The street's crowded, and I have to speed up, and weave in and out of the pedestrians to keep up with him. He's exactly how I remember him, from his white-blonde hair, to the black coat billowing behind him as he strides along.
I speed up further, and I'm gaining on him. Just a little further. I almost shout out, but somehow, I don't. My arm stretches out, and I grab his shoulder, using more strength than I intended to turn him around.
The man who turns around looks angry. He's ready to hit whoever pulled him round. When he sees me, he looks confused, obviously expecting someone bigger. It's not him.
Something in my expression seems to worry him more than the pain he must be feeling in his shoulder, because he growls something about leaving him alone, and carries on. I'm aware of the curious stares of people around me, and I start to shake.
I still don't know how, but I manage to get myself into a coffee shop and order myself something to drink. Coffee's probably the last thing I need, but I can't stay out there on the street. To my surprise, the shaking doesn't go once I'm inside. If anything, it's getting worse, and it's taking all my Slayer control not to just give into it.
I glance at my watch, and realise that it's past time I was going back to where I agreed to meet Gina and Wes. I pull out my cell-phone and call, to hear Wes' voice.
"I'm going to be a bit late," I tell him.
"No problem," he answers. "We'll be ok here for a while. What happened? Had they sold the key?"
The question makes no sense at all to me.
"Buffy, are you ok?"
I hear Wes' voice and realise that I've been silent for a while.
"Wes, I'm fine, I'll be..."
"Buffy, you don't sound fine. Where are you?"
I pick up the menu in front of me and read the name of the coffee shop.
"Look, just stay there. We'll come and get you."
I nod, then realise how stupid that is. I manage to say "Yes," and end the call.