For Good or Bad, The Memories Remain.

Chapter 28

Disclaimer- I don't own Buffy, I just use her in my writing, just for fun, never for profit "Cause that's wrong!"

Spoilers- mid 4th season then everything takes a left turn off the charted path

Rating- May get to R eventually

"How did you find me?"

"Please, all the time I've known you, you've lived in cemeteries. You might sleep somewhere else normally but you live in cemeteries."

"Why are you here?"

His voice with its unidentifiable accent borne from so many languages and so many years rolled out at her. "Elisabetha, I heard from a friend that you were back. I heard about your returning memory. How could I not come and talk again. I've missed our chats."

She looked up at him, sitting on a tombstone, that small figure, dark hair, and his boyish infective smirk. She realized she had missed their chats too.

"So what will be the subject of this afternoon's ramble oh learned one?" She smirked.

"Let's do something silly and cut to the chase, unfortunately I have only today to chat. I have to be in France tomorrow." he replied, tossing her a bottle of Guinness. "Something has you wrapped around the axle and I hate to see you this way. I'd rather see you in that little leather thing you wore when you tried to seduce that girl… what was her name?"

"That will be enough of that, Adam" she takes a long slow sip of Guinness, her eyes back on her lap, studying her hands quite intensely. In a quiet voice she whispers "I had to stake her a few months later."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know" he looked at her. She was still leaning against a tombstone, the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the ancient elm above making interesting patterns in her hair.

"It's ok Adam; I should be used to it somehow. Everything I love, I end up tainting, destroying or driving away."

"You're a Slayer, you are immersed in the worst the world can offer. I've known Immortals without that burden who can't handle the mere fact of their Immortality, much less deal with the level of stuff you have been living with. They give up and die before they reach 100. But you have an advantage, you have a purpose. Whenever you stray, things seem to go wrong, until you return to your calling. You can't teach a pig to dance, it's not in their nature and it annoys the pig. To each thing be true. So endth the speech" he takes a long draw of his Guinness.

"So that's it? I just 'keep right on Slayin" and I'll be happy? I don't think so! I'm tired of it, I want to quit!" Her hazel eyes flared with her anger.

"You can't quit. You can only quit by dying."

"I know. I mean it, Adam" She shifted to look into his eyes "I really have thought about it a lot. Would you help me?"

A look of sadness washed over his face. "Yes. If it's what you truly want. But only because I wouldn't want you to die alone, ripped apart by some demon, or worse, spilling your quickening to some ignorant whelp who would never understand your sacrifice. I would hate to see your light extinguished from this world." He shifted, reaching into his knapsack, pulling out two more bottles. "But not today. You must be sure and so must I. I won't give you a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Take a year, put your memories in perspective, and put your life in order. If you still wish to leave this life at the end of a year, yes. If you ask it of me then,I will take your life." He sat down beside her, his back to the tombstone, and put his arm around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder. They sat and watched the sun set.