A/N : Really hope all you readers continue to enjoy this story. It's not necessarily going to go in the direction you think, but there will be major Spuffy, that's a promise.
(For disclaimer, etc. - see chapter 1)

Chapter 4

"I'm sorry" Joan sniffed as she used the toilet paper Spike had handed her to dry her face, "You must think I'm so lame" she said, fighting further tears.

"Never, luv" the bleached blond assured her as he handed her a glass with a small amount of liquid in it, "Here, ought to be brandy but old Jack D's the best I got" he apologised as she took the glass from him and downed the contents in one. The alcohol burned her throat and the taste made her wince. She made a face and a strange strangled noise as if she'd been poisoned or something.

"Okay, that was gross" she said with half a smile and Spike bit his lip so as not to laugh at her reaction. She was hurting, he felt nothing but sympathy for her, but he was so thrilled to have her back he could barely stop himself for grinning.

"Dare say it is to you, pet, but it should help calm the nerves" he told her gently as he took the now empty glass from her hand and set it on the nightstand. The fact he was sitting on a bed not three feet from the woman he loved should have occurred to Spike but he was far too focused on the fact she was here at all to pay any mind to their situation.

"So" Joan sighed, having regained her composure somewhat by now, "I... I don't really know where to start"

"Me either, luv" Spike admitted with a shake of his head, "You don't know how much I... I bloody missed you pet, aren't words to tell you how much"

"I'm sorry" she said in a small voice that she didn't really recognise as her own as she studied her feet and ripped apart the tissue in her hands, "I wish I'd known you were... that there were people I..." no whole sentence made it out of her mouth as she began to cry again, wondering why she felt so emotional right now. Usually she wasn't the type to bawl so much, least not these past five years anyway.

"No, I'm sorry" Spike told her as he moved to kneel in front of her, reaching out to take her hand in his, "I never wanted to upset you, I just... Bloody hell, I wish I knew where to begin with all this but, I never for one second thought I'd see you again" he told her, a dreamy kind of smile forming on his face as he looked at her. She had red-rimmed, blood-shot eyes and a blotchy face, no make up at all and her hair was sticking out in all directions - she was as beautiful as she'd ever been to Spike.

"You thought I was dead?" she said too quietly as she stared down into his clear blue eyes, "You said Buffy was, I was dead?"

"I did at that, luv" Spike agreed, "Can't rightly understand it, certainly can't explain it, 'specially since you're... well, I don't s'pose you know anything about the world you came from"

"The world I came from?" Joan echoed, frowning now, "What do you mean by that?" she wanted to know, feeling a little scared of what this guy might be about to tell her. That she was a whore from the back streets? That she was an alien from another planet? It could be anything at all and it frightened her to realise something she hadn't thought about in years was still true - she could be anybody, or anything, and have no idea.

"You were..." Spike began only to stop again a second later, wondering how to best out what he had to say. He knew she wasn't breathing as she waited for him to speak, and the smell of fear curled off her like smoke, "No, let's start at the real beginning" he decided as he looked away and got to his feet.

Spike went to the nightstand, and picked up his wallet, rifling through it til he found what he was looking for. Next to the picture of Buffy that he carried was another dog-eared photograph of another girl, this one brunette but about the same age as the blonde in the other picture.

"See this here" Spike said as he handed the photo of the brunette to her, "This is your sister, Dawn Summers" he told her and Joan gasped as she looked upon the face of a girl that could easily be related to her. Her hair was the same shade of brown and her eyes were familiar somehow.

"Summers" she echoed, "I was... I'm Buffy Summers?" she checked and Spike nodded, smiling slightly.

"Yes, luv" he told her, "Buffy Anne Summers" he filled in her middle name as he sat down on the end of the bed opposite her, "Funny thing that, your middle name was my Mum's name" he told her, not really knowing why.

"Do I have a Mom?" Joan, who was now discovering she was Buffy, asked shakily.

"Not anymore, luv" Spike sighed, "Dear old Joyce, she passed on a while back. Few months before..., well, a few months before you actually" he said, finding it very strange to be telling a live young woman how she'd died. Though she was full of questions about her old life and family, the only thing he wanted to know was how the hell she was here and why she had no memory of anything before the day on Glory's tower when the portal had swallowed her up.

The poor girl looked teary and a little afraid as she stared at the picture of Dawn that she still held in her hand. This had to be as confusing for her as it was for Spike himself, but he knew her situation was about to get worse. To properly explain what happened to her he'd have to tell her what she was, or at least what she had been. This incarnation of her had no memory of being the Slayer. It was doubtful she realised that vampires and demons were real, she didn't even wear a cross around her neck anymore, like she always had back in Sunnydale.

"So, do we, me and, and Dawn" Buffy said uncertainly, "Did we live with my Dad?" she checked.

"Er, no, pet" Spike explained, "Never did get the full story from you, the Bit told me after. He left your Mum for a secretary or some such whore, back when you were fifteen"

"Oh" Buffy nodded as she took in what was being said to her. It was somewhat strange to have a complete stranger tell you what your life had been, and to have not one memory of any of it, except for that flash in her room...

"There was a girl" she said, eyes snapping up to look at Spike so suddenly he jumped slightly, "She had long red hair and... and she was wearing a green chequered dress?" she said uncertainly as she tried to recall the scene that had popped into her head, feeling so real.

"Reckon your mate Willow'd fit the bill" Spike said thoughtfully, head tilting to one side as he looked at the blonde, "Used to have long hair like that, and bloody awful fashion sense as a youngster... but how did you...?"

"I saw it" Joan explained, looking very uncomfortable as she thrust the picture of Dawn back into Spike's hand and got up from her seat, beginning to pace the room, "This is too weird, I, I can't deal with this" she said frustratedly.

"Can't imagine how mixed up you are right now, luv" Spike sympathised, "but I'm here to help y'know, always"

"Are you?" Buffy asked, spinning around to face him, pushing her strangely brunette hair out of her face and trying not to cry again, "Are you helping me? I don't even know if what you're telling me is true" she said, realising she was right to think he might be lying to her. After all, it was always on the news, in the papers, stories of innocent young women, lured into motel rooms by men who wanted to use them and harm them. Spike seemed nice enough but Joan knew if she'd passed him in the street she would grip her purse a little tighter and walk a little faster in the opposite direction. His look screamed bad news, and yet she was here, alone with him, trusting him like an idiot.

Though it hurt to have her stand there telling him he might be a liar and someone who would hurt her, Spike couldn't be mad at Buffy. She had a point, he could, in theory, be anybody, trying to take advantage of a young woman alone in the city. Besides she accused him of much worse in the past, and for good reason.

"I know you don't have a reason to trust me" he said calmly, "But Buffy, I would never hurt you. 'Sides which, why the hell would I have a five year old picture of you in my wallet if I didn't know you?" he asked her.

Joan just stared at him for a long moment. It would be strange for him to have such a photograph if he didn't really know her, but that didn't mean he was a nice guy. She might have known him before, but he could've been a stalker or something, maybe a boyfriend she dumped but who wouldn't leave her alone...

"That doesn't prove I can trust you" she told him, "Maybe it proves you knew me once but you don't know me now" she pointed out, "I'm not Buffy anymore, if I ever was"

"You were" Spike said firmly, "You still are, you just don't remember is all"

Joan felt like they were going in circles somewhat and she sighed, glancing down at the floor.

"You said I... Buffy, you said she died" she said, looking back up at Spike, arms wrapped around herself protectively as she talked of her old-self in the third person, "How did she die?"

Spike sighed as he stepped back and sat down on the edge of the bed once again.

"'S a bigger question than you think, pet" he told her, hands going to his face then running back through his hair as he rested his elbows on his knees, "I'd have to start a might further back than that day if you were ever going to understand" he told her and Joan edged carefully around the room, retaking her seat opposite him, still holding herself and both looking and smelling a little afraid.

"Start from the beginning" she said more quietly and shakily than she meant to, "Tell me everything"

"Everything, eh?" Spike checked, an eyebrow raised, "Could take a fair while"

Joan checked her watch and made herself as comfortable as possible in the chair.

"I have a few hours to kill" she said, trying for nonchalance but failing badly, "How about you?"

"For you, luv?" Spike smiled, "Got all the time in the world"

"Okay then" she nodded, pulling her legs up underneath her and watching him closely, "Tell me the story of Buffy Anne Summers"

"Alright" Spike nodded slowly, "Once upon a time there was a girl who, at the age of fifteen, found out she had a destiny..."

"...so she knew there was a choice to make" Spike continued, staring at a spot on the carpet as if it held the answers to the world's problems, "Let her sister die to save the world, or give up her own life for the cause" he explained, still speaking of Buffy in the third person as he had for the whole story, despite the fact she was sitting right in front of him, paying rapt attention to his every word but never speaking or reacting herself, "Wasn't a hard decision, not for her. She was a hero, a champion. She did what any hero or champion would do, she jumped into that portal and it swallowed her whole... and then it was over"

Spike ended his tale, eyes glancing up to meet Joan's and she saw the evidence of tears in his eyes. Either he was a superb actor or everything he'd told her in the past hours was true. As insane as it all sounded, tales of vampires and hell-gods and a sister that wasn't really her sibling at all, it was as likely an explanation as any for her ending up in an alley five years ago with no memory of herself or anything else. Of all the horrible scenarios she'd come up with in her own head over the years, terrible things that might've led to her memory loss and abandonment in one of the many dark back roads of Cleveland, Joan like this idea best. She'd been a hero, a warrior, someone who saved people, and had lost herself into the bargain.

"You okay, luv?" Spike's voice cut through her silent musings and she stared across at him with confusion in her eyes.

"I don't know" she admitted, "I... It's all a little much to take in"

"S'pose it is at that" Spike nodded in agreement, "But it is the truth, Buffy, I swear it"

Though Joan nodded her head as if she believed him, her mind was spinning at a hundred miles an hour and she wondered what she really did believe here.

A world with spells, and magicks, and superpowers, as unlikely as that might be it sounded strangely comforting compared to any other explanation that might be given for her life.

Joan glanced around the room, the clock catching her attention at that moment. She hadn't realised quite how long she'd been sitting there, just listening to Spike tell her a tale that was apparently her life story and yet might have been no more than a fairytale.

"God, is that really the time?" she gasped, "I'm supposed to be... There's someone I'm supposed to meet" she scrambled to her feet but so long of sitting in the one position meant her legs didn't work quite as well as they might. Spike was there to catch her before she fell, his hands on her arms steadying her.

"Thank you" she said as she gazed up at him, both of them knowing she meant it for more than the simple act of stopping her from toppling over. He was helping her discover the life she'd lost and for that she would always be grateful - should it turn out to be the truth of course, she reminded herself.

"You're welcome, luv" he told her, with a slight smile as she moved away.

"How long are you here for?" Joan asked, turning back at the door to look at him.

"Er, s'posed to be heading home again tonight" Spike said with a frown as he remembered what he'd told Dawnie, "but, plans are changeable if you..."

"I do" she answered his question before he'd even asked it, "I, I need some time to think but... could we talk some more, later?"

"Look forward to it, pet" Spike smiled, loving that she was back and moreover that she wanted to spend time with him. The fear was gone, and when she smiled at him he knew it was genuine. It meant the world to him, though he knew it couldn't last as she went out of he door and it clicked shut behind her. Though he'd told her of her own life, he'd mentioned little of his. How would her opinion of him change when she found out he was part of the same evil faction she was born to fight against?

To Be Continued...