Chapter 41 - Glasgow, 25 July 2004

The two hours before Willow was ready to start passed too quickly, and not nearly enough was quality time with Spike. Far too much of it was spent fending off everyone who wanted to sit around and watch. It took Willow's bald statement that the fewer people there were in the room, the better the chance of success, before Giles finally gave up. I don't know what he thought he was going to do, but I think he just needs to be doing something.

He's changed since he got here - well, maybe even before then, but I haven't seen that much of him lately. He's been acting off, though. He's never liked Spike, and I know he doesn't want me to be with a vamp, but the things he did to keep Spike from me were … over the top. And since he got to Glasgow, I mean, he's faced apocalypses before, but this time, he looks so tired. I think maybe taking on the whole Council has been too much - or then again, maybe it's not the Council, but the loss of the Slayers. I know he was devastated when I died, and I kind of assumed that was because we … because it was me. Now? Well, yeah, he cared … cares about me. But he also feels responsible for all the other Slayers, and with them being taken from under his nose, he's taking it personally. I suppose it's the one thing Quentin Travers had going for him - he never seemed to personally care for any of us. Must've made the job much easier. But now, I'm scared for Giles. For the first time since I got over the teenage 'oh, he's so old' phase, he really does look old.

When we're ready to start, Gus, Angel and Giles are upstairs and Moira and Dawn next door. Angel and Gus are primed to come down as soon as I call Gus' cell phone, and I'm going to do that if we're successful and get a Slayer or two in Spike's living room. They've got a couple of cars at their disposal, and Giles has arranged for some rooms at his hotel to be available for any girls well enough not to need medical treatment. He's also used the Council's clout to arrange for any girls who need to be hospitalised to go direct to a private hospital just outside the city. He insisted on a private hospital because he thinks privacy will be easier. Gus didn't seem too impressed by that, but he didn't get the chance to explain.

Willow's moved things around in Spike's living room. There are two chairs, close together and facing one another. The sofa's been pulled over to the wall out of the way. Willow hands Spike a mug of blood, and Spike sniffs it cautiously. "Wait, I haven't given a sample," I warn, but Willow stops me.

"No, Buffy. If your blood's in the mix, its signal might overpower all the others, pulling Spike back to this universe when we want him checking out others."

I think I'm disappointed. I gave my blood willingly to Angel when he needed it, and I don't want Spike to feel that he's less important to me than Angel was - because that's just not true.

"S'ok, Pet. You keep it. The witch's right. Don't want me getting side tracked." His relaxed acceptance makes me feel better.

He drinks the blood quickly, and I don't know if it's my imagination or not, but it almost looks as though his face takes on a rosier tint than I'm used to seeing.

"When you're ready, sit over there," Willow commands. "I'll give you instructions direct - less chance of misunderstandings that way."

Spike nods towards her, then looks my way. My concern must be showing because he comes towards me and pulls me into his arms. "You ok?"

"Just worried about you."

"I'll be fine. You'll see."

"Good. Don't take any risks."

"What? Me?" he demands, in fake innocence, and I laugh despite myself. Asking Spike not to take risks is like him telling me to stop being a Slayer - not going to happen.

He walks towards his chair and settles into it, while Willow sits opposite him.

"Ready?" she asks Spike.

"As I'll ever be," he answers.

"Close your eyes. It'll be easier if we minimise external stimuli."

He does as he's told, and a few moments later, I know that, despite what my eyes are telling me, I'm alone in the room.

Seeing Spike like that - so … dead - makes me want to go and shake him, bring him back, but of course, I don't. Instead, I wander around the room, taking a closer look at the life Spike's built here.

That takes all of two minutes. Given the amount of stuff he had in his crypt, this flat's actually quite bare - a few books, some CDs, a TV - the furniture I know came with the flat. I don't know whether that's sad, or just a sign that he's been too busy with his new life and friends to worry about material things. The second option causes a twinge of jealousy. The one thing I never really had to worry about before was Spike having friends. I was the one with friends and a life of my own. I push the feeling down. It's what he needed. I'm beginning to really understand why he didn't call me when he got back the first time. I mean, after he wasn't a ghost. By that time, he'd started to be part of the group in LA – well, by the sound of it, Fred at least was starting to accept him (and isn't it typical it'd be the woman in the mix?). If he saw the chance to do good for himself rather than as the Slayer's pet vampire, then that had to be the right choice for him. And if he hadn't, then maybe he wouldn't be ready to move forward with me now.

I give myself a mental nudge. There's no point in revisiting the past and trying to work out all the 'what if's. Because, different universes apart, now is what we've got, and once we've got the other Slayers back, there isn't much about my 'now' that I'd want to change.

In an effort to take my mind off things, I consider going through to see how Moira's doing, but I've no real idea how long it's going to take before Spike finds one of the Slayers. Willow warned that it could take hours to find even one, but she was hopeful that it would be faster than that. I'd hate to think that one of them turned up here, confused and maybe hurt, and the welcoming committee consists of just a snoozing witch and vampire. So I'm stuck. And so, inevitably, my thoughts turn to last night.

It was special in ways I never expected it to be. I mean, I've slept with Spike before. Literally and figuratively. I've slept in his arms with (almost) no thoughts of anything else, and we've had sex, although those times often didn't involve sleep, and rarely involved a bed. Last night was like a first time, without the awkwardness of first times. He always tried to make me feel like I was the only woman in the world, but this time, I let him show me. I missed out on so much before by shutting him out the way I did.

Remembering last night, I also remember how little sleep I got. By the time I finally drifted off in his arms, it was well after dawn, and with having to be up to collect Moira, well, … I go and sit on the sofa, then kick off my shoes and pull my legs up onto the cushion. I lean my head back, and my eyes seem determined to close, so I stop fighting it.

I waken again, with a start. I look around the room, but nothing's changed. But then, while I'm watching, someone appears. I vaguely recognise her from some photos Giles had of the missing Slayers, although I never met her. She's a tall, blonde girl, and I immediately approach, wary in case she attacks, but she seems dazed.

"You're safe," I tell her. "I'm Buffy. I'm a Slayer too, and you're home."

She shakes her head as if trying to clear it. She's on edge, watching me, waiting to see if I'm a threat. She seems to decide that I'm not, and her body relaxes noticeably.

"Home?"

She's looking around the room, taking in everything around her.

"Where're you from?" I ask.

"If I'm home, why don't you know that?"

"I mean you're back in your world. You're in Glasgow, in Scotland. Home's the US, isn't it?"

"Yeah. New Jersey. You're a long way from home too."

"Long story. Are you hurt?"

"Hurt? No. There wasn't much time. I mean, one minute I was patrolling a cemetery, the next I was in this cage, wondering what on earth happened. It's only been a couple of hours, and the next thing I know, I'm here, and I really wish I understood what had happened. And what're they doing?"

She points at Willow and Spike, and reaches into her pocket for a stake. I spot the instant when she realises that one of them is a vamp, her body coiling to attack again.

"He's responsible for bringing you back."

"The vamp?"

"Yeah."

"What's he doing?"

"Another long story. Look, let me get someone to look after you. Rupert Giles will want to talk to you, but that can wait if you're not up to it."

I take my phone out of my pocket and speed dial Gus. He arrives seconds later.

Her name, it soon transpires, is Glenna Mitchell. She seems more curious than harmed, and soon goes up to the office to meet with Giles and get the full story of what happened to her.

Once she's gone, I check the time, surprised to find that it's taken two hours so far. I settle back onto the sofa to wait for the next, and feel the first flutterings of excitement that the plan seems to be working. The fact that Glenna's ok and seems, from her perspective, to have only been gone a few hours, gives me hope that the others will be the same.