Chapter 4 - Marking Time

I've been feeling a bit like the 'child who must be humoured' today. After the dream, I finally managed to get some sleep, and then I called Willow first thing this morning. I didn't tell her exactly what was going on, but she must've known from my tone of voice that I was worried. She called me a little while ago to tell me she's flying into Seattle tomorrow night.

Since then, I've been kept busy. They didn't actually say that's what they were doing, but I know what's been going on. Wes and Gina have been trying to keep me occupied today so that I won't think about anything that might upset me. Fortunately, my hand's so much better that I've even been able to leave off the bandage, so I'm actually feeling pretty good, considering.

We've spent the day looking around Seattle. True to its reputation, it's been raining pretty much all day, so we changed our original plans in favour of the city itself. We arrived at the Space Needle late morning, to take in the view. Of course, it's one of the obligatory stops, but it's well worth doing anyway. And then, we found Wes'd managed to book us in for lunch there too. So, we sat and chatted and looked out over the city. Wes and Gina ate too, and seemed to enjoy what they had. I can't actually remember what I ordered.

It's hard. Once, it was easy. Demons were bad. Demons had to be killed, and preferably now. Then there was Angel, and it changed a bit. Demons had to be killed, unless they had souls. Then Angel lost his soul, and because I loved him, I couldn't kill him, so other people died.

And then it got complicated. And that was mainly Spike. He showed me something else, the grey area. Yes, he was a vampire, a demon, but he wasn't just a mindless killer. He wasn't even particularly bent on killing for the sake of it. He didn't have Angelus' love for playing with his victims. And that was before he had a soul. The chip caused him to stop, and think. I know at first it was just self-preservation, but it was soon more than that. He didn't just help us because we paid him, because we really didn't pay him enough. And he didn't just help us to get his daily dose of violence. He proved to me that a demon can love. It took me a long time to learn that lesson, and once I had, everything became much more difficult.

Difficult or not, right now, all I want is for someone to point out the bad guy, so I can go and kill him. Like I used to. I want to know what's happening, whether it's really something to do with Spike or something different. I need to know who's been playing with my mind.

The images from the dreams are just in my mind all the time. As soon as I relax, all I can see is his face. Sometimes it's an actual memory, sometimes it's the contorted, tortured face from the latest of my dreams. If I could've arranged it, Willow would've been here this morning, and maybe we'd be on our way to understanding what this is all about, and maybe I'd be closer to the point where I go and kill the bad demon. But I know that she's got her own life now, and I'm lucky she's willing to drop everything like she is.

Despite the horror of the recent dreams, there's a comforting feeling about all this too. I've tried not to pay any attention to it, because I know it's going to end up being just my imagination, but it's almost as though Spike's trying to contact me, as if he still exists in some form, somewhere.

Now, I'm not a scoffing disbeliever. I mean, I've died twice already, and my heart's currently beating quite normally, thank you very much. So I know miracles happen sometimes. Of course, they need some human intervention too - Xander the first time, and then Willow and the others the second time. But, whenever my mind starts to wander in that direction, the sensible part of me reins in that feeling pretty quickly. Wonderful as it'd be to have him back, to have the chance to show him that I really did love him, I know it's not going to happen.

We travel back to the house by late afternoon. I know Wes is itching to get back to work. Until he knows what's happening as far as the W&H records are concerned, he's limiting his research to other sources. He's hoping to return to some of the sources he used in the days before Wolfram and Hart resources made actual research unnecessary. And I know he called Giles this morning, too.

Gina decides to have a long soak in the Jacuzzi when we get back, complaining of sore feet. I find I'm drawn to the room Wes appropriated for his research. He nods at me, and gestures for me to sit down, while he continues typing something.

"Find anything?" I ask.

"Give me time, won't you?" he asks in mock exasperation. "I've got some things from Giles, though."

He looks at me, I assume to gauge my reaction to that.

"I wonder why he never told me he was working on that."

He doesn't speak, because, just then, the download finishes. He runs through the various folders and titles, then clicks to bring the accompanying email back to the screen.

Wesley,

I'm sending you my entire file. Fortunately for you, my new assistant insists on making electronic files of everything. As you will see, it's the result of a great deal of work, carried out over the intervening seven years. I haven't found anything conclusive. Several times I've found a reference that seems to match the circumstances perfectly, but there's always been something that simply didn't match, so I've had to discard the theory.

I'm leaving it to your discretion how much you tell Buffy about this. You didn't know her immediately after Sunnydale was destroyed. She was very unhappy, grieving, even, and I have been striving since then to encourage her to move on from that time. I thought she had at last done that, even if I had doubts about her ultimate choice. Whatever has caused her to re-open the wounds of that time, I tend to believe to be an evil influence. I certainly doubt it can be altogether wholesome.

I suspect she won't listen if I try to persuade her of my concerns. Regardless of what has happened since Sunnydale, she's still seen as 'The Slayer' in some circles, and she certainly made a lot of enemies due to her many successes. My belief about the dreams is that they've been sent specifically to weaken her for some forthcoming attack. I'd appreciate it if you'd alert her to such a possibility. Perhaps you'll have more success in persuading her than I would have.

Giles

I assume Wes has already read the note, and when I finish, he's looking at me.

When he speaks, his voice is reassuring. "While his theory is certainly a possibility that had occurred to me, I believe the corroborating evidence, especially the apparent involvement of someone at Wolfram and Hart, makes that less likely. The amulet originally came from that source, and there may be something about it that's significant. However, I see no need to hide any of this from you. It seems to me that you've been upset enough by not understanding, and that knowledge can only help."

I nod, and then find myself grinning as thoughts of my first dealings with Wes come to mind, and I can't help but contrast the two. Then, he treated me as if I were a mindless tool to be used by the Council without offering an opinion if any sort, simply following the instructions from my 'elders'. That was back in the days when things were simple, but even then, I wasn't quite the blunt instrument he expected me to be.

"I wish he'd told me he was working on this. I might've been able to help, add something."

"He was trying to protect you."

"Yes, I remember how he tried to protect me." I sound surprisingly bitter, even to myself.

Wes is looking for an explanation, so I give it.

"In the weeks before the final confrontation with the First, Giles and I had some … disagreements. He didn't trust Spike, and he didn't understand why I relied on him so much."

"Surely that's understandable, especially considering your history?"

"He could never accept my part of the responsibility for … our history. We were both wrong, but Giles acted like it was all Spike. He didn't get the immensity of what Spike did after that. Even though he knew it'd probably destroy him, he won a soul. He'd seen Angel, knew he'd spent years on the verge of madness after he got his soul, but he did it anyway. So he wouldn't hurt me again."

My thoughts are right back there again, and I remember the confusion I felt when I first knew what he'd done. We were in a church, and he draped himself across a cross. I could hear the hissing as his skin scorched and burned, and I was frozen to the spot, shocked and unable to help him.

I'm brought back to the present by Wes' voice.

"Working with you changed Giles a lot. But remember his background, his training, everything he was taught to believe said that vampires were evil. No exceptions. Then there was Angel, and just as Giles was starting to think he could trust a vampire, he lost his soul, and killed someone Giles loved.

"But Spike was different, even without the soul, he was different."

"Giles still saw Spike as an evil creature who was trying to get close to you so that he would be better able to hurt you. He must've been shocked to find out about your … relationship."

"Yeah, he was so shocked, he laughed until he couldn't stand up any more."

He looks as if he doesn't believe me. True, the fact that I'd been sleeping with Spike seemed pretty trivial compared to Willow trying to end the world, but it really wasn't the reaction I'd been expecting either.

"He cares about you a great deal. I know you're not as close as you once were, but he still wants what's best for you, and I'm sure that's what motivated him then. He believed that Spike was potentially a weapon for the First to use against you."

"I know that, he made it quite clear at the time. He couldn't see that Spike had changed, but that we needed to have faith in him. Instead, he tried to get rid of the 'problem' altogether."

I almost feel sick at the recollection of how close we came to disaster that night. But Wes doesn't know that story. I'm pretty sure Giles wouldn't have told him, and I know I haven't.

"Did you ever hear about Robin Wood? He was one of the group that escaped from Sunnydale."

He shakes his head.

"How about Nikki Wood?"

"The New York Slayer killed by William the Bloody."

"The same. And she had a son."

"The son of Nikki Wood was in Sunnydale at the end? What was he doing?"

"Well, by day, he was the Principal of Sunnydale High School. By night, he was a demon hunter. Except he'd set his sights on one particular demon."

"Spike."

"Yeah, well, of course we didn't know. Then, he hatched a plan to get me out of the way so he could get what he wanted. The First had messed with Spike. She'd put this trigger in his head, a song his mother used to sing to him. When he heard that, he'd do what the First wanted. It even stopped the chip working, or made it so he couldn't feel it firing. We never did find out which. Anyway, Robin asked Giles to keep me busy so he could destroy Spike. And Giles agreed. It would've worked too, except for one thing. Spike was too strong. Robin played the tune, and it made Spike lose control. He beat him up pretty badly, but then Spike managed to come to terms with the memories. Once that'd happened, the trigger didn't work any more, and Spike was able to beat Robin."

"But you said Robin escaped from Sunnydale."

"Yeah. Spike let him live."

I picture the garage Robin had prepared. I remember every detail, the malevolence that must've gone into covering the walls with crosses. He didn't just want to stake Spike, he wanted him to suffer.

"And, if Robin had succeeded, this world would probably have been destroyed," I add.

"Perhaps, but surely you'd have chosen Angel as your champion instead."

I shrug. "Maybe, but I don't think I would've made it that far."

Again, I'm impressed by Wes' patience. He's waiting for me to continue, but he's not pushing.

"Giles wasn't the only one who didn't trust me. The others, the potentials, Faith, Willow, Dawn, even Xander, they thought I was wrong to go after Caleb at the vineyard. I knew there was something there that he wanted to keep from me, but they didn't want to follow me back. I know we didn't come off too well the first time, and Xander lost an eye, but I knew I was right. And they decided to follow Faith instead."

"I left them. I left my home, and I wandered the streets for hours. When I was tired, I found a house I thought was deserted, and went upstairs to rest. He found me. Spike, he found me. I was so alone. I thought they were right, that I was responsible for everything bad that'd happened. He held me that night. He just held me, and gave me back my confidence, my self-respect, my strength. By morning, I knew what to do. I went back to the vineyard alone, and I got the scythe. Without that, I doubt I'd have made it to the final confrontation. And even if I had, there would've only been two Slayers in the mix at the end. I don't think we'd have lasted long enough for the amulet to do its work."

There's silence then, and Wes turns to the computer. He clicks on a document entitled 'Index', and reads its contents. The list is impressive. It looks like Giles has been working hard, and it hurts that he didn't mention any of it to me.

"You're welcome to stay if you want, Buffy," Wes interrupts my thoughts. "But this is going to take a long time to wade through. And by the looks of it, most of the source material isn't in English. Call it professional pride if you want, but I'd prefer to do my own translations. There are so many possibilities in some of these languages - words that have multiple meanings depending on how they're used. Once they've been translated, it's easy to forget the possibilities of the original, and get stuck with a single interpretation."

"I get it," I respond, getting up from my chair. Give me a book in English and I'm only fair to middling at picking out what's important. Put it in another language, and I might as well start looking for patterns in the ceiling.

I go to the main living room, and note that the rain seems to have stopped. I go out onto the deck, and sit, looking out at the landscape which is so different from home. And I don't just mean different from LA's concrete. It's so green, and so many shades of it, all of it fresh from the rain. As I sit, I'm aware of the tension of my muscles, particularly around the shoulders, and I make an effort to relax.

I start at my toes. I consciously relax them, then imagine that they've been covered in warm water, soothing and cleansing. I mentally travel up my body, and the feeling of warmth and wellbeing follows its progress, until, at last, I reach my face, and I can feel the gentle heat everywhere as I close my eyes.

I let my mind wander. And then I realise I'm not alone. I open my eyes, and I see him, standing in front of me, smiling. It's not a memory as far as I can tell, because I don't remember him smiling at me like that. Or if he did, I made sure not to see.

"Spike." I smile at the word, and the pleasure I feel at seeing him is gentle but profound.

"Buffy." I recognise the tone. The way he says my name, it's so much more than just a word, it's almost an act of worship.

He looks so … normal - dressed in black, pale skin, white hair, blue, blue eyes. There's so much I want to tell him, so much I want to ask, but somehow words seem inappropriate. Still, Buffy and silence are kinda unmixy things, so I have to say something.

"I've missed you."

"I've been here."

"Where?"

"Around, watching."

"Are you … are you happy?" It's very important to me that he is.

"I have been, well, most of the time. It hurt when you were sad about something, but otherwise, yeah, I've been happy."

"What's happening?"

"Can't tell you that, love. Shouldn't even be here, but they couldn't stop me. I think it's because you touched it, the amulet, at the end. It linked us, somehow."

"Is something trying to hurt you?"

"Could say that," he smiles back at me. "Could use some help, but I think the Watcher's on the right lines. He came alright in the end, didn't he? The new Watcher?"

"Yeah, he turned out fine," I agree, but he's already fading, and I start to see the green of the hillside through him, and then he's gone.

The sense of loss I feel is almost incapacitating. I almost felt I could touch him, hold him, and I wonder why I didn't. Maybe I was afraid to move, afraid to do anything to break the spell.

"Buffy?"

Gina comes round in front of me, and by her expression, she's been calling my name for a while.

"He was here," I tell her.

She looks confused.

"Spike."

"You must've been asleep. It was a dream."

"Maybe, but it didn't feel like a dream. He said he needed some help, but that Wes was doing the right thing. He seemed to … approve of how he turned out."

"Well, he won't get an argument from me on that."

I smile at Gina. She sits next to me, and we both look out over the view in companionable silence. My imagination takes over, and I start to consider what life could be like if he really came back. To be loved like that, the way he loved me, but to love him back, to know that he's my equal in every way - it's a future that's almost painfully wonderful to consider. Because, deep down, I know it's not going to happen. And if the past few days have showed me anything, it's that my feelings for him have remained intact for the past seven years. It's obvious now what was missing with Angel. The only thing I don't understand, is why I didn't see it before.