The bar scene was not what Jake had expected. He simply wanted to find a quiet spot to contemplate his next move. Instead, he was holed up in the corner of a rave club just down the street from Buffy's townhouse. He looked across the dance floor, the swirling lights and hypnotic music had a way of mesmerizing the people on the dance floor. Jake was not impressed. He reached for the glass sitting in front of him. He swallowed the amber liquid in a gulp, savoring both the burn and the sweetness of the bourbon. Sitting the glass back in front of him, he reached into the pocket of his duster and pulled out a wadded pack of Marlboro Reds. Pulling the smoke from the pack, he put it to his lips and lit it with the small Zippo lighter he had recently purchased. He inhaled deeply, letting the acrid smoke burn within his lungs for a moment, then slowly exhaling. Roger had always told him that smoking would be the death of him... if only that had been the case. He continued to stare aimlessly into the crowd, contemplating the journey to the bar for another dose of liquid courage. He was startled back to reality, when the blonde figure appeared from nowhere and took a seat beside him.

"Didn't take you for techno-type," she stated simply.

He chuckled.

"Not my scene. I prefer Waylon, but it was the closest place I could find to get a drink," he replied, still staring into the crowd.

"They look so happy out there, don't they? No cares in the world... just soaking in the music and how wonderful their lives have turned out."

Jake finally turned his attention to the blonde seated beside him.

"You know, I used to turn a mean shade of green when I went to these places. Never seemed fair that some got it easier than the rest of us. But, they're the reason we're fightin' this damn war. At least someone gets to enjoy themselves..."

Buffy simply smiled, a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. She eyed the three empty shot glasses in front of her.

"Whiskey?" she inquired. Jake merely nodded.

"Something I haven't quite figured out. You dropped the bomb on us about our futures. But you're the one who needs to drink? Is there something missing?"

Jake sighed. Damn women. They always could sense when you were hiding something. He couldn't keep it from her anymore.

"There's a few things I failed to mention. Centering mainly on you and me."

Buffy took a quick breath. He could see her eyes widen as a flood of thoughts began to race through her head. He stifled a laugh.

"Nothing like that sweetheart. Not that I'm saying I wouldn't, I mean if I... if I had the chance... or if you allowed me the chance... what I mean..."

"Spit it out, cowboy," she remarked coyly. Jake took a second to collect his thoughts, then tried again.

"What I meant to say, is that there is somebody in Los Angeles right now that you might not be ready to see..."

"Who? Angel? I know. But I think we can put our past behind us for..."

"Not Angel," he cut in.

"Then who? Cord..."

"Spike," he stated simply.

Buffy's brain was sent reeling. She had watched Spike die, watched him literally go up in a blaze of glory. She had told him that she loved him. He didn't believe her. Honestly, Buffy didn't either. But she had wanted to so badly. If only they had a little more time. But now...

"But... how... when..." she questioned.

Jake took the final drag off his cigarette, savored it, then crushed it out on the sole of his worn boot. He flicked it carelessly across the floor, then turned back.

"To be honest, I ain't real sure. Never got the whole explanation. I do know that its tied to some amulet. He's important. Not alot of souled vampires roaming this ol' world. And I figure he'll be just as shocked to see you."

Buffy didn't respond. Her mind was cluttered with thoughts of Spike. What would she say? For weeks after the collapse of Sunnydale, she had imagined what she would tell him if only she had a second chance. Now, it appeared that she would. Jake could sense her confusion.

"It's not gonna be easy Buffy. We're about to go talk with a group of people who've spent the better part of the year being duped by evil. We've got to convince them of the truth, and we've got to do it without that evil catchin' wind of us. I've got to face the father that doesn't even know I exist. And then... I've got to convince him that..."

Jake trailed off, voice catching in the back of his throat. Buffy turned her attention back to the man beside her. She hadn't even thought about Jake and Wesley meeting.

"I can't imagine what it must be like. Trying to convince someone of your existence like that... well, now that you mention it, I kinda do."

Jake had to grin at Buffy's realization. But that wasn't his concern.

"Meetin' Pop again won't be that bad. It's the fact that I've got to kill the love of his life that will."

Buffy looked on puzzled. This was all some sort of supernatural soap opera, and she was lost.

"Winifred Burkle... the daughter of Roger and Trish... her and Pop were in love. Illyria infected her... destroyed her soul. But Pop wouldn't let go. He always thought there was something inside that he could save. He won't simply let me walk up and put one between her eyes."

"Who says that you have to be the one that does it? After the story I heard, I was kinda hopin' I'd get some satisfaction out of a nice hellgod pummeling."

"It's kinda complicated. Let's just say that it's my job to do. Its one of the reasons I was chosen."

"And why were you chosen?"

"Born of a Watcher and a Slayer. It's a funny thing kids born to Slayers. Whether they're boys or girls, some of the genes get passed down. As far as I know, I'm the first kid to be born with that sorta pedigree. Comes in handy in a fight."

"But Robin Wood, he was the son..."

"Born before Nikki received the Slayer line."

Again, Buffy simply absorbed Jake's explanations.

"Just how do you know so much about things that happened before you were even born?"

"Got a prep from the Powers. Guess they figured I needed to know everything if I was gonna come back and do the job. I'm the last shot. The final miracle the Powers saved before they were destroyed."

"What do you mean, last shot?"

Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out his tattered cigarette pack. Reaching in, he pulled his last smoke out and lit it.

"Let me put it this way, everyone who has ever fought in the war, whether they were good or evil, has always assumed that there's some kind of balance between the two. That's why neither side ever truly wins. You derail one apocalypse, another one springs up. It's supposed to be some sort of cycle. Let me tell ya, that view is a hundred percent, complete bullshit. There is no balance out there... just the war. Illyria finished it. It single handedly took out both sides, good and evil, and established itself as the one in control. Me being sent back was the last option the Powers had. Illyria destroyed them whenit opened the gates to the other dimensions. I'm not goin' back... hell, I'm not even walking away from the fight..."

Buffy stared in wide-eyed amazement. How were they going to fight something that was this strong? Then, she realized exactly what Jake was hinting at.

"You mean... you're main goal is to kill Illyria? You're not here to win this battle?"

Jake nodded.

"I'm here to stop Illyria from gaining power. Recruiting you to team with Angel is necessary to fight the battle. It's the big one darling. Round twelve in the Garden for the heavyweight title. Together, you all can win. There's never been a bigger group of Champions assembled. This is where you get to shine."

"But not you..."

"Hehe... no. Unfortunately, there's always a catch. Y'see, if I kill Illyria, my timeline changes. I will be re-writing history. A history that doesn't include my mother saving my father. Without that intervention, I doubt little ol' me shows up. I kill Illyria... I cease to exist, in this time or any other time."

Buffy could scarcely find the words. This man... this Champion... was sent back in time to snuff out his very own existence.

"Wh-why?" she stammered.

"Why wipe my self out of existence? I don't know. It ain't like I'm lookin' for the glory in it. I guess I just figure that it's a pretty fair trade. If somebody has to give up their life, to make sure that these people out there still get to dance, I figure it's worth it. Besides, there ain't no big rodeo in the sky to catch if I fail. Everything will come crashin' down anyway."

Buffy nodded. She didn't understand, but then again, she didn't really have to. This wasn't her sacrifice to make. Her heart ached at the thought of someone having to sacrifice their very being in order to save the world. But she understood that if he failed, there wasn't much point in an afterlife, anyway. She stared on as Jake finished his cigarette, disposing of it in the same manner as earlier.

"What'dya say we head on home sister? This music is givin' me a headache, and we got a long way to go tomorrow."

Jake rose from his seat and offered his hand. Buffy smiled and placed her hand in his. They strode out of the club and back to the townhouse. Tomorrow, they would head to Los Angeles. It was the final step. One more story to tell. One last chapter to write before the finale.