To everyone else, thanks for your reviews, and I hope you're still enjoying the story! This chapter is a little weird, but I promise it'll make sense later. All in good time, my pretty. All in good time.
Chapter Four
Of Returns and Twisted Time
A week on the road and they'd fallen into a sort of routine. Buffy kept Spike company at night, though he avoided sharing the bed with her again. But they did talk, and that was something. Buffy started to get nervous about Sunnydale, though. She finally asked Willow if the cloaking spell would let Angel get a phone call from her.
"Oh, yeah, totally. Unless he secretly wants to kill you, in which case he'd just think there was no one on the line."
"I think we're okay there," Buffy said.
She knew Spike was close enough to hear her when she made the call. He wasn't nearby, but Buffy knew vampire hearing was not to be underestimated. She'd have to be careful what she said.
She tried her house first, on the assumption that this probably wasn't the sort of thing Angel would leave to other people if he could help it. And she was right. It was nice to hear his voice-- by her perception, they'd spent a lot of time without contact. "Hey, it's me. I don't know where we are, but we're all okay. How's stuff there?"
"Pretty quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary. Few vamps, few demons, but no grand portents of doom. I haven't even run into Spike."
Oops. "Uh, Angel? That's because he's with us."
"What? Are you insane?"
"Angel, it's okay. He can't hurt us. And I don't think he'd try, honestly. He's helping us. There's some stuff you don't know."
"Clearly. But Buffy, you don't know him like I do. He's--"
"My friend," she said icily.
"Buffy..."
"Just don't, okay? I know what I'm doing."
He sighed. "I hope so. But we're going to have a long talk when you get back."
"The hell we are! I know I owe you an explanation for the whole skipping town thing, but you lost any right to tell me what to do when you left. I'll be happy to give you the explanation I promised you, but you're not going to change my mind about anything. You're doing me a huge favour and I'm incredibly grateful. But like I said, there's a lot of stuff you don't know."
"All right," he said in a tone that made it clear that it was far from all right. "I'm sorry. I just...I worry about you."
"I know. I'm sorry I yelled."
"It's okay."
"I have to go," she said.
"All right. Be careful." He sounded resigned, at least.
"How's the Hellmouth?" Spike asked, approaching her when she'd hung up the phone.
"Fine."
"Nice of you to stick up for me like that."
"Angel means well, but he doesn't really understand everything. God, I hope he's not reading my diary!"
Spike snickered. "He's too noble for that."
"Maybe he's too noble not to. He thinks he knows what's good for me, but most of the time he's clueless."
"Stupid prat. Anyone who'd walk out on you like that doesn't deserve you." He touched her shoulder, just for a second.
"It's so weird," she said, mind miles away. "The difference between you and Angel. Without a soul, he'd kill me in a second. And you've never had one, and yet you..."
"Love you."
She sighed. "Well, yeah. How is that possible?" Really, she still didn't understand it. Maybe she never would.
Spike shrugged. "I dunno. Angelus was a right bastard long before he was turned. I was just a bloody sad ponce. I think...I think the demon brings out different things in different people. And sure, I had the bloodlust, the violence, but..."
"You got over it?"
"Something like that. The chip--"
"I don't think the chip made you change."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, it kept you from biting people, sure. But you could've killed us all without laying a hand on us. I don't think it made you change. I think it...let you."
"Maybe."
Later, she sat in the passenger seat as Spike drove. She had to ask. "Do you ever want a soul?"
"'s not a bloody fashion accessory, pet."
"I know. I just wondered."
He was silent for a few minutes. "There's stories," he said finally. "Of a demon, somewhere in Africa. Trials. Grants things...wishes. If you're worthy."
"So you do think about it." He'd known all that time?
"Sometimes, yeah. If it'd mean you'd--"
"No, Spike. Don't even say it. I'd never ask you to do that. If you ever did, it'd have to be because you wanted it for yourself." Even though he got it for her. She knew that. But he'd gotten it because he'd hurt her. And that was most certainly something she wasn't going to allow to happen. Not like that, anyway.
He sighed. "That makes sense. Not that...I just...bloody hell, Slayer, I don't know where the line would be, between doing that for myself and doing it for you."
She didn't answer. The subject was dropped. It hurt too much to think about it. But at least he had the idea in his head. Had he been thinking about it now already, the last time? The awful thing was, she knew deep down that he had to have the soul for her to be with him. Maybe not to start, but if she were going to stay. She hated it, but she knew it.
The days wore on and the road stretched before them. They'd turned north at some point, then west again, then south. A big circle. Willow finally tired out a week and a half in, and Tara took over holding the spell for a while. It didn't take Willow long to recover her powers, though. Not much more than a day. That was what did it for Buffy. One thing at a time or not, it wouldn't hurt anything if she made an effort now, even if she went back at the end of this.
"Giles, can I talk to you in the back?" she asked early that evening. Spike had taken the wheel, but no one was headed to bed yet. "It's about Willow," she said once the door was shut safely behind them. "She's getting really powerful, scarily powerful."
"I know," Giles said. "I've seen it as well."
"I had this...well, it was part dream, part vision, I guess." More lies. But Slayer dreams were not to be ignored, she knew, so maybe it would get Giles to act. "About Willow. Her eyes and hair were all black, and there was all this magic swirling around her, and...god, her voice was so dead and empty, and she said something like 'Willow doesn't live here anymore.'" Tears sprang to her eyes at the memory. "It felt...it felt really real. I don't know if it was or not, but you know how my dreams are. I'm scared for her, Giles."
Giles nodded. "She is...incredibly powerful. And power like that, unchecked, can take over."
"I know." Oh, she had to tread carefully here. "Maybe it's time for her to have help. I don't know that she could just stop doing magic." Hell, no, she couldn't. "A...a teacher or something. Too bad we can't just send her to Hogwarts," she said, smiling sadly.
"No, unfortunately, that is fiction. But there are...I do know some people. A coven, in England."
"Do you think they'd like...train her?"
"Possibly. I could look into it. The Coven does not generally take on students, but I feel a witch of Willow's talent might be of interest to them."
"Thanks, Giles."
"Buffy, I have to tell you how...proud I've been of you these past couple of weeks. Even with such a-a terrible loss as yours, your discipline, your strength, your conviction, even your insight and concern for your friends-- it all seems to have magnified, and I've only just noticed. You've...you've become one hell of a woman, Buffy."
All the implications and memories surrounding that statement set her eyes tearing again. Not only that Spike had said it, but the fact that Giles saw it, that he was proud of her when the last time around he'd been questioning her motives. She hugged him and they both wiped at their eyes. She laughed shakily. "Okay, Giles, put your British back on before I totally lose it," she said, sniffling.
The ritual day came. It was long and tense and quiet, everyone looking over their shoulders and out the windows. Willow and Tara merged their magics to strengthen the cloaking spell and add a protective shield. They all just sat, watching, waiting, Buffy gripping Dawn protectively. When the hour came, everyone held their breath. Even Anya kept quiet, just leaning on Xander's shoulder, clasping his hand. There were no clever quips, no jokes. Not a sound but the rumble of the engine as they counted the minutes. Buffy knew there was no danger from Glory herself, but the Knights and minions and Doc plagued her mind.
As the last minute ticked away, the silence held. Everyone waited until they were really sure it had passed, that no one's watch was fast. Some tacitly agreed-on magic moment came, and Spike pulled over and stopped. If they'd been any other group of people, there might have been cheers and tears, but this was just another crisis. They knew better than to jinx their good fortune with anything like joy. Willow and Tara kept the spell up, and they all rested, sleeping the sleep of the worst being over.
Their meandering circle had brought them to some nowhere town a few miles outside Reno, and no one really wanted to drive the eight hours back, even at breakneck speed. Giles offered them plane tickets, and they agreed. The group arrived at Revello Drive with a few hours to spare before sunrise. Everyone shuffled into the house, and Buffy turned to look at Spike across the threshold.
"I'll just..." he started.
"Come in, Spike," she said, unable to keep a small smile off her face.
He stepped into the house, returning the smile. And then he wasn't in front of her anymore.
Buffy wasn't really sure what happened next. There was a flurry of motion, fists flying between them, and Buffy jumped between the two vampires to form a barrier. She hauled them both over to the couch, staying between them to keep them apart. Buffy knew she'd hit someone, but she wasn't really sure if it was Angel or Spike. It had all happened too fast.
"What the hell has gotten into you, Buffy?" Angel asked, rubbing at his jaw.
Buffy stayed calm. "I don't really know what's going on here. One second I'm standing there, and the next you two were beating each other up."
"You invited Spike in!" Angel exclaimed.
"Yeah, yeah I did. Angel, I love and adore you," she said. She didn't miss the smug look he shot at Spike. "But that doesn't really matter. You don't have permission to attack my friends."
"Spike's not your friend," Angel said, fuming.
"Yes, he is. And the sooner you accept that, the better off we all are." It was Spike's turn to give a smug look to Angel, and everyone else gaped at Buffy. Angel's expression grew more and more shocked as Buffy launched into the short, safe explanation of the past three weeks. She left out the part about Dawn being the Key, figuring that too many people knew already, and knowing what she knew now, she understood that Angel might not be the best person to divulge apocalyptic secrets to. She only told him that Dawn's blood had mystical properties, and that was why all these people were after her.
And even Buffy was shocked when Giles stepped in. The conversation was all blurry to her, though. Things had moved too quickly since she'd walked in the door. It was too much to process, the fight between Spike and Angel, her defending Spike. She'd hit Angel, hadn't she? She wasn't sure. The world was flashing. Giles had been saying something, she knew, a long-winded British something, but Buffy only caught the end of it in the midst of her mind spinning in fifty directions at once. "...and Angel, I've never been fond of you or Spike, you know that. But I do trust Buffy's judgement, and as she trusts him, at least for the time being, I'm inclined to agree, and I think you would do well to make your peace with it. We're all grateful for your assistance during our absence, but I believe we can take it from here."
It was blurry and weird. Everything around her seemed to blink in and out, and Buffy wondered if she was being transported back to where she'd come from. She couldn't follow anything; every time she managed to catch the thread of someone's sentence, they'd moved on to something completely different the next second. Reality was a CD, and it was skipping like mad. Things only seemed normal when she was the one talking. Some moments got stuck, repeating over and over, and when those moments stopped and time moved on, she seemed to have missed something very important. She struggled to think. Maybe it was like the exploding lint situation, when time kept fast-forwarding on her while she stood still. Or like the time in the woods when she thought she'd killed Katrina. Or the mummy hand loop. Or all three of them put together, more accurately. Was Warren behind this? She didn't think he was even in town right now, but it was too much like what she'd gotten from him and the nerds before for her to dismiss the idea entirely.
She saw Angel go out the door, and then everything slowed. All but stopped for a second, and then went back to normal. She could breathe again, felt that she was here again.
"Buffy? Are you okay?" Willow said.
Buffy shook off the confusion as best she could, trying to realign herself with what was going on. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay. I'm just really, really tired." Maybe it wasn't Warren and the nerds. Maybe it was something connected to Angel. She needed to talk to Dawn about this.
"Yeah," Willow said, smiling. "It's kinda been a really long day. Like a three-week-long day."
The rest of the gang trickled out, and Buffy heard Giles tell Willow to come see him tomorrow. She shot him a grateful smile, knowing he'd be speaking to her about the Coven. Dawn had headed up to bed before anyone left, so Buffy couldn't tell her anything. She'd do it tomorrow. Xander and Anya were the last to go, leaving Buffy alone with Spike in the living room.
"I should..." he started.
She shook her head. "It's too close to sunrise," she said, getting up to pull the drapes closed. "You should stay." She went to the linen closet and pulled out a blanket, handing it to him.
"Thanks," he said, as she started up the stairs. "For...well, everything."
She smiled, though her back was to him. "You're welcome."
Uh, yeah, remember that thing I said about the weird? That last bit was it, what with all the time-wonkiness (or whatever it is). Just trust me. It'll all make sense eventually, I promise. Also, reviewing is good for you.
