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Chapter Twenty-Seven

The funeral had happened a mere matter of days after Anne's death. Buffy had watched on in silence, unable to really hold William's hand in front of what number of people—strangers—were present. She'd done her best to simply remain by his side, to offer comfort by just being there. Part of her was jealous at the way Kit was able to hold into Lilith, to let her sniff into his chest, and at the way no one would look oddly when she leaned into him while she wiped at her face hidden behind a black veil that barely covered her face.

She hadn't tried to stop her own tears, deciding not to care what others thought of an American family friend, a male, tearing up at a funeral. She had been grieving for William, for herself, for Anne, and for her mother—a woman who had yet to be born.

Silently, she'd sent a prayer upward… asking that her mother and Anne would be able to find one another. Some part of her had laughed internally at that, at the small joy of imagining her and William's—Spike's—mothers having a chat about them. She had been sure her own mother would have a lot to say about her, and, maybe she would be able to fill Anne in on how wonderful her son was at the end of it all.

Was this how you coped? By telling yourself that they were happier? That wherever they were was a better place? Oh, but she knew, didn't she? No guessing game for Buffy. It was. It really was a better place.

Take care of her, mom, she'd asked to the unknown as she'd stared down that wooden lacquered box slipping into the ground.

She'd wanted to go with William back to his home, but it had been days since either she or Kit had been to their own. The siblings needed to grieve without the two of them there. They needed their own time, she'd told herself.

Everyone did.

He wouldn't be alone, she'd also said. He had Lilith and Reggie. And she'd known then his two sisters wouldn't leave him alone if they knew he needed them. It's not as if they would have anything better to do. Kit had carefully explained to her how the mourning period worked. Reggie, William, and Lilith would not be permitted to attend social events or don anything aside from black until a year had passed.

Buffy mused on about this as she stared out of a window in the library. A fire was roaring, but she welcomed the chill sneaking in through the panes of glass beside her.

She didn't know how she felt about it other than awful. Reggie was supposed to get married; she couldn't now. Not for a year. What was the family going to do when Spike left with her? Kit and Lilith would likely end up together. Buffy could tell by the way he'd hung about her for those days in their home that he was in for the long haul. Totally smitten. She half smiled at the Victorian word that echoed in her head. She guessed if and when the time came Kit would just take care of things. She didn't want to think too far ahead like that, but it was only natural. She'd come to love Reggie and Lilith; they made her feel as if a piece of Dawn had come with her on this journey, especially Reggie.

"I told you black is a good color on you."

Buffy's head turned slowly, green eyes connecting with ones that were a slightly darker shade. She found herself smiling softly. "You've got to stop creeping up on my like that, you know."

Tara shrugged, making the woolen shawl wrapped over her shoulders shake a little at the ends. This time she was dressed in a way Buffy knew to be her own style, nothing Victorian like the last one. "I teleport. Not much need to knock on a door when you can teleport to someone you know."

"I could have been naked."

Tara raised a brow. "In the library?"

"It could happen."

Tara chuckled. "Come on, come sit with me. We have some things to chat about."

"So you knew, huh? About Spike's mother?" Buffy touched the black cravat wound about her neck. The funeral had been hours ago, but she'd been too lazy to take any of it off aside from the pitch colored gloves.

"I did. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I didn't want you to live with that information while trying to keep a good front on for William."

"It's alright. I'm not upset." Buffy joined her, sitting down at the same time, at long wooden table not far from the other seating area near the fire. "You want me to call for tea?"

Tara shook her head as she pushed long strands from her face, some of it she tucked behind her ear. "No, but thank you. I do have a few things to update you on—the things you asked about before. But I know you have some stuff to tell me too.

"What's up? Aside from the obvious."

Buffy didn't waste any time getting right to it. She'd waited a number of days to talk to Tara about this. "I'm worried about William's sisters. Mostly Reggie. They… they're not doing really well money-wise and I want to know what's going to happen after he comes back with me. After this is all over. I mean, I guess Kit and Lilith might get married. I think he'd look after them… but…"

Tara sighed as she intertwined her hands together in front of her. "This sounds like something you need to talk to Kit about. Not me."

"You're probably right. But… let's just say it doesn't work out. What will happen to Reggie?"

"I imagine she'll go to Scotland with her sister. There's no one left in William's family line to take the title of Broderick… so…" she tapped her chin, thinking. "No, that's not true. Likely, everything will fall to Victor, Lilith's son. He would be the sole family heir."

Buffy nodded, feeling a little bit better about that. Lilith seemed like she had enough money on her own to take care of Reggie. "Thanks."

"But… I would still talk to Kit about his intentions in regards to Lilith if it will put your mind at ease."

"I will."

"There was one more thing, right?"

Buffy frowned. "You already know, don't you?" She didn't think she needed to tell her.

Tara nodded. "Reggie found out and she wants and explanation."

"I'm worried she'll tell William if I don't explain something to her. And honestly, Tara, there's no real explanation for why I'm a woman or how it has anything to do with her brother aside from the right one."

Tara sighed and leaned into the table. Her eyes were focused on the wood grain as she pressed her lips together. "You want to tell her the truth."

"I think telling her anything less will have her telling William everything and ruining… well, the world, I guess. This dimension?"

"You want me help."

"I could find another way to prove it to her, but you're a rep of the PTB. If I have you and Kit backing me this would go a lot easier." Buffy crossed her arms one over the other as she leaned in the table top. "Magic is one thing, you know? I can prove her magic exists. I can prove monsters exist. Hell, I can even prove that I'm the Slayer and explain what that means. Easy peasy. Trying to get her to believe that I'm from over a hundred years in the future…?" she let it hang on that.

Tara nodded. "Alright."

"Really?"

Tara nodded again. "It's not as if you, myself, Kit, and Whistler are the only people who know who you are, where you're from, or why you're here. Kit's entire household knows. If telling Spike's sister will protect you—" She waved a hand around and looked for emphasis. "—this? It certainly won't damage anything in the grand scheme.

"Trust me."

Buffy felt immense relief at that; a little silly too. She didn't know why she'd imagined Tara would say no when it was put that way.

"I can come by tonight? Say… Eleven? Can you get Reggie here by then? The sooner this is done the better."

"I think so."

"I'll make sure I'm ready. Now," she went on, straightening in her seat and leveling Buffy with a serious look. "You had a few questions the last time we saw one another. One about the wish Spike made and his soul and the second about the Dijinn."

"Yeah?"

Tara smiled and Buffy thought that might be a good sign. "I wasn't around for Angelus. Even so, I can go back whenever I want and see those memories, Buffy. I know… I know how hard it was for you to later reconcile those memories with Spike."

"What does…"

"You had a hard time understanding why he was so different than Angel. Why he could feel, why he could love, and why Angel couldn't fight through it."

"But Kit already told me it was possible for a vampire but very rare. For him to retain his humanity."

"There's no need to have a philosophical debate with you. It's true, what Kit said. And it is difficult for a vampire to overcome that. Regardless, it's also hard for human being to stop themselves, soul and all, from doing unspeakable things to other people if they really want to.

"My family, I think, is a prime example."

Buffy smiled just so. "True. They were totally awful."

"But there is a reason Spike has always been able to love right from the very start. He didn't have to fight through loving Drusilla. Loving you was hard for him just because it went against everything he'd been bred to be. You were human, a Slayer, after all.

"Regardless though, he still loved right from the moment he was sired, right from the time he woke up as a vampire."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that's not exactly normal, Buffy. Even if a vampire wants to be better, they don't usually start having those feelings right from the start—selflessness. Love is selflessness and a slew of other emotions.

"Spike's demon merged with his soul when he was sired. Well, sort of," she added with a shake of her head. She lifted her hands to try and give something visual to the discussion. "They fought for control when he was sired and in the end, half soul and half demon. That's why he's always had so much humanity.

"Combine that with his natural… way of being a hopeless romantic and well…" she trailed off a moment and Buffy could tell she was trying to gauge her reaction. "That's why the wish didn't go right, Buffy. He already had all of his soul, or as much of it as there was left to have."

"That's why he was sent back… he…"

"He didn't know."

Buffy nodded, understanding but still stuck in this weird revelation. "Does… does this kind of thing happen often?"

"Only time that I know of; only time the PTB know of."

"Was it Drusilla? Was it because she was nuts or something?"

"We don't know… Spike… he's… well, an anomaly, you know? Always has been, from what I've seen. I don't know many vampires that would have joined sides with a Slayer to save the world, behavioral correction chip or not. And before that too. Most vampires would have said to heck with Drusilla and turned tail, if anything given Angelus' plans."

Someone as smart as Spike, if he hadn't loved Drusilla… probably.

Still, it was a lot to take in.

"He was kind of made for you… wasn't he?" Tara edged, smiling softly.

"I guess so." Buffy met her gaze. "You said there was more? The part about what the Dijinn said?"

"That one… That one's a lot harder. You know, I think it might be best if you ordered some tea, Buffy. Have you eaten today?"

"Is it that bad?"

"Not bad… just…" Tara sighed. "When I tell you it's more that you might have an even harder time processing it than you did with the stuff about Spike. Spike's stuff is nothing in comparison."

"But it's not bad?" she asked again, eye narrowed in both caution and curiosity.

"That depends on how you define bad, really." Her voice was soft.

"Just tell me, Tara. Please. What did the kind-of-not-really-evil genie mean?"

Tara's next sigh was long and hard. Buffy watched as she tucked more hair behind her ears. Gentle as ever, she met and held Buffy's gaze as he started to explain. "It's a story you don't know. Not a lot of people know; mostly just really old demons and the PTB. It's lost information. Giles might have something in his books about it somewhere, but I doubt it."

"Ok…"

"You know about the first Slayer."

"Yeah, what of her?"

"What you don't know is how she was made, how she became the first."

Buffy had never wondered. It had never really occurred to her, why or how the line had started. She supposed she just always assumed that the PTB had made her and enacted the rules of the Slayer line. Nothing more; nothing less.

"Three men known as the Shadow Men bound a demon's essence to her against her will. It made her powerful enough to fight the monsters, but not without a price. In the end, the first Slayer sacrificed much of her humanity and become forever alienated from the life she once knew."

"That's awful…"

Tara nodded. "There are other consequences. Ones I don't think were ever asked. But a demon like the Dijinn would know because he's of the old world, Buffy. A creature that has the power to send Spike back in time would have access to the information.

"It's no surprise he mocked you for it."

"What information?"

She paused then, licking her lips. But Tara's gaze didn't waver from Buffy's. "Slayers are immortal," she murmured, "That's what the PTB told me. Because of the demon's essence. It's just that Slayers don't live that long normally, sometimes a few years at most. That's why it's never been recorded, Buffy. The information simply doesn't exist and the PTB never had a reason to offer it willingly."

Tara hadn't been wrong. This wasn't something you processed easily, if at all. It wasn't everyday someone told you that you could live forever, that what made you the demon hunter you were had everything to do with a demon's essence. Buffy found her head spinning briefly. She blinked a few times and wiped a hand down her face.

"Are you alright?"

"I think so…" she said softly. "It's… um…"

"Yeah," Tara echoed. "I know. Not really, but… Yeah."

"It's kind of awful and awesome at once, you know?" She frowned and looked away. "Not sure I really want to watch everyone I love grow old and die…. not that I have a say in the matter."

Tara was silent.

"I'll be ok," she said aloud. "It's just going to take a while to sink in. That's all."

"You want me to go?"

Buffy almost said yes, but then she realized she needed to stop lying to people. Being alone right now would probably not be a good idea. Her head felt like a bomb had gone off. "Is the offer for tea and cookies still on the table?"

"I didn't ask for cookies, but I won't turn them down."

"Cookies it is."

#

When Reggie got the letter she hadn't been at her best. She knew Will and Lily would worry if she stayed cooped up in her room and the library hadn't felt like the perfect option given it was where Will liked to spend most of his time. And she… she just wanted to be alone. Thus, she had settled in her mother's favorite sitting room with a book. There was no guarantee Lily or Will wouldn't come looking for her, but it was good enough for a not-so-escape at the moment. Then again, if they felt anything like her they probably wanted some alone time after the funeral as well.

"For you, my lady."

Reggie took the slip of an envelope from the maid and murmured a thank you before the other woman let herself out. Who would be sending her anything now? Surely not a suitor; the eulogy in the paper yesterday would keep all of the ton's best and brightest at bay. She supposed that was one thing to be thankful of in this. No more parties or men knocking on her door—sending flowers or proposing. Not at least for a year.

Reggie scanned the contents of the letter as soon as she flipped it open, nearly frowning.

Reggie—

You wanted answers. They will be given tonight. Dress in men's clothes, black if at all possible. I will have a carriage waiting down the block at 10:45.

—Buffy

Simple and straight the point. It was a wonder she hadn't forgotten about wanting answers. Still, she was glad Buffy… goodness that weird to even say in her own head… she was glad Buffy had reached out to her. Likely, the woman feared Reggie changing her mind and telling Will.

She glanced at the grandfather clock sitting up against a wall, eying the time. She had just over three hours to find something to wear, pretend to go to bed early, and ferret her way out of the house without anyone being the wiser. It would best to tell everyone she didn't want to be disturbed, perhaps take dinner in her room after she found appropriate attire. No one would begrudge her; if Reggie was honest with herself, she likely would have done the aforementioned had Buffy not sent her a letter.

She shut the book on her lap after bookmarking her page and set herself to locating her brother. Once she was secured in the knowledge that he was in fact in the library, she snuck up into his room and quickly picked something out—something that would fit that he hadn't worn for some time. Nothing he would miss, at any rate.

Into her room she went after that. She told her maid to dress her for bed and asked that dinner be given to her in her room. Then she made quite the show of being too distraught to be bothered. But to be sure, she told her maid she did not want to be disturbed until morning—for anything.

The hours passed on. Reggie's finished meal had been left outside her door. She glanced at the clock every so often as she looked up from her book. She tried to stay focused on the material, she did; however, it was quite difficult to do when she knew she was very close to unearthing a grave secret. It offered a distraction; it helped her forget about…

She didn't believe Buffy was a bad person, she told herself. She'd been nothing but kind to Will. And yet, Reggie couldn't understand the lie. Good people did bad things, but Reggie couldn't think of a reason good enough to lie about one's sex. Death? Was Buffy running from something? Was hiding her sex a way to hide who she was further? But no… she'd told Reggie she was trying to save her brother. From what?

She looked up at the clock again and stood. Ten minutes. She had about ten minutes to slip out of the house and make it down the road to the carriage. Reggie was dressed already, but she still had to slip on her cap, tuck her hair under it all. She did so swiftly before peeking out the door of her room and down both sides of the hall. All was dark. She could see a single servant lingering.

Good.

Out and to the railing she went, sneaking a look to see if anyone was lingering in the main entrance. With a low exhale she tiptoed quietly down the stairs and towards the door. She gave a brief glance about before making her grand exit.

For the first time she thanked God they couldn't afford more people than the ones they had working. Reggie was sure someone would have been up if the house had been properly staffed.

She tried not to run down the street once she spotted the carriage, but it was more difficult to not walk faster than she normally did. Once she was upon it someone in blacks greeted her.

"Blackwood sent for you?"

She nodded.

"In you go," he told her as he opened the door. Reggie climbed in without a word and sat down in the crestless hack. A moment later and they were off. It would take… perhaps five minutes to get to Blackwood's because the streets were empty. But it was in that five minutes that she fidgeted, not stopping until the carriage came to a halt and the door was opened for her.

A servant ushered her up the stairs and into the home.

"Reggie?"

She turned then, not expecting the sight that greeted her. At all. What…

#

Buffy hadn't been sure about greeting Reggie in her 20th/21st century clothes: baggy night pants printed with hearts, a fluffy knit sweater that had been too soft to leave behind, sneakers, and a long sleeved t-shirt underneath. But when she'd gotten out of her Victorian wear she hadn't wanted to put it back on. She hoped the small shock she presented was a good cushion for what was to come. What's more… she wanted Reggie to see the real her, not the dressed up image that she presented to the past; certainly not when she was trying to be up front with her.

"Sorry if it's a bit much," she told the younger woman.

Reggie blinked a few times. "What… they're not men's clothes…" she said brokenly as she stepped forward and reached out and ran her fingers over the fluffy sweater. "What material is this? Where…"

Buffy took her hand. "Part of your answer."

She blinked again.

"Come on. I have people in the library that can help explain." When she hesitated Buffy looked back at her. "You did want answers, right?"

"Yes. Sorry." She nodded once and moved to follow Buffy through the quiet and mostly dark home.

#

Reggie wasn't sure what the clothes meant, but she had a feeling it hinted at something more. Question was… what did it have to do with her brother? When they entered the library she removed the cap she had on her head and let the dark curls fall around her shoulders. The only other person there was Kit. He was seated on a couch near the fire.

"I thought you said people," she told Buffy as she took a seat on another couch that faced the one Kit sat at. A small table sat between them and the fire was to her left. "Kit is but one person." she motioned to him.

"I have one guest who has yet to arrive," she explained as she took a seat next to her.

Reggie watched as Kit pulled out his pocket watch. "Any minute now."

"Any minute now for what?" Reggie asked.

In the silence that followed a flash of something filled the void her questioned prompted. When it was gone a woman in strange clothes similar to Buffy's but more… woman-like stood across from her. Reggie blinked stupidly as she took a seat next to Kit.

"Am I late?"

"You're early, Tara, but it's ok." Buffy smiled.

"You look comfy tonight," the auburn-haired woman told her before she met Reggie's gaze. "You must be William's sister."

"Who are you?" she blurted, somehow managing to make her jaw work and her mouth form words.

"Tara Maclay. One of Buffy's best friends and the very reason you're here tonight." Before Reggie could ask anything she went on. "I will answer any and all of your questions, but I think it might be best if you listen to me first. Many of them can likely be answered that way." Tara turned to Buffy. "Would you pour the tea?" She waved towards the table that held a platter of goodies and a steaming pot of the dark brew. "She's going to need it."

"Sure thing." Buffy moved carefully, untucking her feet from under her and pouring. She handed the first cup to Reggie and then everyone else as Tara spoke.

"I am what you would call Buffy's guide. A member of what is commonly referred to as the PTB—the Powers That Be. They are a higher power that watches over humanity and keeps balance without directly interfering more than they have to.

"Buffy is what you would call an… agent of the PTB." She frowned and looked at Buffy. "I'm not sure I'm really good at this."

"You're doing fine. I wouldn't say I'm agent… maybe a pawn."

Tara snorted as she took the offered tea and began to put milk and sugar in it. Her attention returned to Reggie once she was done and took a sip. "She is a Slayer. It is her job to keep humanity safe from things that go bump in the night—dark witches and warlocks, vampires, monsters, and demons. Usually the stuff of your worst nightmares."

"I'm sorry, you can't expect me to believe—."

"Please, Reggie," Tara interrupted her. "Listen. I know it's a lot to take in, but I promise I can prove to you everything I say before our chat is done. Will you let me?"

Reggie swallowed and set her tea and saucer to be held in her lap. She wasn't a child anymore. Monsters? No such thing. It was ridiculous for them to expect her to believe such nonsense. "How can you prove monsters are real?"

"Easily."

Reggie narrowed her eyes as she met Miss Maclay's. The conviction in her voice was very real. Either she believed what she said or… Well, she had appeared in the room in a flash of light. But that could be a parlor trick. Reggie had seen magician shows before. Even so… the effects weren't quite like the ones she'd watched before during an evening party.

"Very well," she assented with a nod. There could come no harm of hearing her out, surely?

"As I was saying... Buffy is the Slayer. Many have been called to the duty before and more will likely come after her. She has known this from the time she was sixteen."

"Bad luck?" Reggie couldn't help but ask as she turned to Buffy.

"I used to think so," she replied before taking a nibble off a biscuit laden with chocolate. "Go on Tara," she urged the other woman after swallowing.

Tara smiled wryly before continuing. "Buffy is here because she is performing her duty. Your brother is a part of that."

Reggie wanted to ask how, but she stopped herself before she could do so and let Tara go on.

"In a way, I will be telling you're a story, one that begins and ends with your brother." She took a biscuit from the tray. "Do you remember the party your brother went to? The one where all those people died shortly after he left?"

"Yes." Reggie frowned.

"Imagine for a moment if your brother had not come home that morning. That he instead had met a beautiful woman, one that promised him a life free of heartbreak, responsibility, and worry. Imagine now that this hypothetical woman had been a vampire who killed and sired your brother." Tara paused long enough to wipe her mouth with a napkin, to wash down the treat with tea. "He left then with this woman named Drusilla and joined up with her compatriots—Darla and Angelus; two other vampires that traveled Europe causing death and destruction wherever they were free to do so."

Reggie thought that sounded awful, but she refrained from saying so.

"William caused his fair share of destruction as well. But Angelus didn't like the unique kind of trouble the younger vampire stirred. He didn't like having to look over his shoulder every waking moment for fear that a mob would attack because William was making a name for himself. They got into an argument and Angelus told him if he didn't quit getting so much attention then a Slayer would hunt him down and be the end of his unlife."

"No short feat, that," Kit supplied.

"You don't know Spike," Buffy argued with a smile.

"Spike?" Reggie asked.

"His name by then," Tara told her. "William shed his past and took up the title Spike because of the way in which he tortured his victims, the ones left over that had taunted him as a Victorian gentleman." She pressed the side of her fist into the middle of her forehead. "Railroad spike right here."

Reggie couldn't help the squeamish look that overcame her features. Hypothetical, right? Surely her brother…

"Spike became intrigued by the idea of a Slayer. Learning all he could, he sought his first one out and killed her. Angelus realized immediately that the boy he thought so little of was far more than a mere scamp. From then on he had a healthy respect for Spike; though, he hardly respected him in the way one typically would."

"How so?" Reggie was bit transfixed on the tale.

Tara's face softened. "Spike loved Drusilla deeply; loved her in way vampires are usually not capable of loving. And Angelus took advantage of that emotion every moment he got. He had sired Drusilla, tormented her and her family before killing them—made her watch. In a way, he'd branded her as his forever.

"Spike could hardly compete with that. Still… he eventually made a mistake."

"The gypsy girl," Buffy murmured.

Tara nodded. "Angelus killed a beloved daughter of a gypsy tribe. In turn, they cursed Angelus with a soul and his humanity became too much for Darla. She left the group and Angelus refused to go on with Spike and Drusilla. The two of them thereafter spent much of their time together—happily alone in the destruction they caused." She took a long sip of her tea before leaning over and moving to pour herself more. "The rest isn't worth mentioning… but after…" She smiled sweetly as she mixed in milk and sugar. "Drusilla became ill. The year was 1997—."

"1997?" Reggie interrupted. "That long?"

"Yes, that long," Tara murmured with a grin over her little cup and she got resituated on the couch. "It was then Spike moved to Sunnydale, a city in California. And it was here he met Buffy for the first time."

Reggie looked at her then, eye narrowed. "But that would mean…"

"Let me finish," Tara went on softly. "He met Buffy. They were instant enemies, being what they were. And Spike wanted to kill another Slayer. But… things didn't quite work out the way he imagined they would. The details, if you want them… well," she paused a moment, "we might get to that at some point. But, suffice it to say Drusilla eventually left him, he eventually stayed, and he then eventually fell in love with the Slayer."

"But I didn't want him," Buffy said aloud with a sigh. "I… I made a mess of things, is how you would put it."

"Buffy had loved a vampire once before and she was burned badly because of it," Tara defended. "Spike didn't have a soul, so far as she knew—the thing Angel was cursed with that kept him in check and made him more human. And Buffy was…"

"I was in a rough place," she supplied abruptly. "And I took it out on him."

Tara sighed, eyes softening on the blond. "Spike pushed things too far one night… He hurt Buffy, not intending to. Hating himself, he stopped before it could go much farther and fled. He went to Africa and sought out a demon who could grant wishes after a series of trials were accomplished. He endured them and he asked for the return of his soul—for the way things had once been. As a result… he was sent back in time and merged with who he had been the moment Drusilla tried to sire him. He then woke up and returned home—yours." Tara set down her cup and saucer. "From there Buffy was contacted by my superior—Whistler. She was asked to come back and find a way to separate Spike from William so that the timeline could be set to rights… or as well to right as it could be set given what's happened."

"You're quite serious, aren't you?" Reggie asked.

"Very," Tara replied. "The reason William can't find out Buffy is a woman is because if he does before he accepts her as she appears to be to him, before he loves her completely of his volition as he did before—as Spike—then the very fabric of time could come asunder. He could never go back to being Spike, perpetually stuck here and as a result creating a loop in the timeline so deep it would be the end of us all."

"That still doesn't explain why Buffy appeared before my brother as a man… nor does any of this prove anything. It's a nice story, wonderfully nice. But it doesn't really mean anything to me."

"It was the wish," Buffy told her. "I thought I was doing it because I wanted to, because it would be easier to get close to him. Men can do things woman can't here; you know that. I really didn't have any intention of …any of this." She waved a hand in the air. "But the Dijinn planted the seed, or so he says—the demon who granted the wish.

"I refused Spike in my time because he was a vampire, because I was scared. So now I have to get him to accept me as a man, something totally not cool in terms of a relationship in Victorian England."

"I promised you evidence," Tara said suddenly in response. "You are right about that. Very well." she stood. "Take my hand."

Reggie blinked. "Why?"

"Do you want proof?"

Reggie definitely did. She wouldn't say it aloud, but her curiosity—her desire for knowledge—overcame all else. She didn't believe them, not quite… but it was hard to ignore the conviction they exuded in more than words, their voices.

It was that desire that made her stand and reach for Miss Maclay's hand, that made her curl her fingers around her palm and settle into a solid thought gentle grip. "What now?"

"Now I will show you."

And just like that they were gone, the world around them a curtain of dark for a brief moment before flashing to something entirely new. It was still dark, but they were outside. The other woman still gripped her hand as she got her bearings.

"What you are about to see has already come to pass," Miss Maclay told her. "We are not really here. And they are not really there.

"Watch."

And Reggie did. It was her brother and Buffy. What in the devil's own name was he wearing? What had he done to his hair? And what was he sitting on top of? Was that some kind of carriage?

There was a tension in the air as they spoke to one another, as William lit up a cigarette and talked about something called Manchester United and happy meals… on legs? But there was something in their conversation, their words.

"I hate you."

"Yeah, but I'm all you've got."

And just as soon as it was there it was gone. Another scene and another, in some of them they were fighting—Buffy and Spike. There many things she did not recognize, did not understand. But she ignored those things and focused on the duo—on their many moments together.

"Is this a date?

"Please... A date. You're completely off your bird. I mean... Do you want it to be?"

She giggled then, unable to help herself. No matter the passage of time… William would always be William. Her brother. Love sick fool.

But there were other moments too. Ones without Spike that just had Buffy in them; ones with Buffy that just had Spike in them. She watched their pain, mutual and separate. She watched them hurt themselves—each other.

Good God, Romeo and Juliet had nothing on the duo. She was certain.

"I'm counting on you, Spike. To help protect her."

"'Til the end of the world - even if that happens to be tonight. Nobody touches the Little Bit while Spike's around. I promise."

"I'll be one minute."

"I know you'll never love me… I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man, and that's..."

Reggie couldn't quite stop the way the tears pricked at her eyes at that, at that and the scene before when she'd come to him—Buffy—after he'd been broken and battle worn from the demon god Glory.

But then came more, so much more. Buffy's death, her resurrection.

"How long was I gone?

"Hundred forty-seven days yesterday... um, one-forty-eight today. 'Cept today doesn't count, does it? ...How long was it for you...where you were?"

"Longer."

Part of Reggie wanted it to stop, but the other part of her couldn't look away. She watched as they bloomed together, as they tore each other apart emotionally, and it all came crumbling down like a house of cards. And then she watched as her brother was sent back… and then it was over.

As the world around her shifted to something resembling a shifting painting filled with splattered colors Reggie heard Miss Maclay say, "Do you believe me now, Reggie?"

"How… how could two people hurt each other so much?"

"Love."

"Love shouldn't look like that."

"But it does. Real love is painful, awful, and beautiful all at once. You're right though… they shouldn't have hurt each as much as they did. I think… I think a lesser man than your brother would have given up a long time ago—cut his losses as we modern Americans like the say.

"Spike's too stubborn for that though. Most of the time he goes about things the wrong way, but…"

"But?"

"He's a good man. Buffy too—but a woman." She smiled well enough to make her eyes crinkle. "The intentions are all right, but actions all wrong.

"You still haven't answered my question though. Was it enough?"

"I believe you," Reggie whispered as she wiped her eyes.

"Do you need time? I can give you a moment to compose yourself before we return."

Reggie shook her head. She'd cried in front of too many people already to care what they thought. "Thank you for asking though."

Tara nodded and in another flash they were back in the library.

Reggie found herself releasing the other woman's hand rather unceremoniously as she plopped back down onto the couch.

"Oh my gosh, Tara!" she heard Buffy say. "What did you do to her? You were only gone a second."

"Really?" Reggie asked as she picked up a napkin and wiped her face. "Only that long?"

"I showed her… well, I showed her a lot of things." Tara frowned empathically as she looked at Buffy. "The past. Yours. Spike's," she admitted. "Not all of it, but enough to get her to understand."

"Are you alright, Reg?" Buffy asked as she placed a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded and she took a deep inhale and let it all with an exhale. "I suppose as well as I can be. You… you have led a very graphic life. My brother as well." She looked at her then. "Do you love him now? I cannot imagine—."

"Yes," Buffy said. "Very much… sometimes too much, I think."

Reggie nodded. "I have… I have a few questions."

"Such as?" Kit asked.

"You're going to have to eventually separate him, right? Spike and William, that is. I assume the part of him that's from this time will remain here."

"It's complicated," Tara offered and she sat down once more. "He'll have to go back to Drusilla, Angelus, and Darla. The PTB aren't entirely sure on how it will be done, but your brother will not be able to remain as he now—Spike or not."

"And Spike will go home, yes?"

"He will," Kit told her.

It was then Reggie met Buffy's gaze. "Then I have a request."

"Um… ok?"

"Take me with you."

AN :: So… I totally skipped doing homework to write this. Suffice it to say that I'll be busy tomorrow. Really busy… Ha… ha… haha…. FML.

Anyway, you guys left me some really sweet reviews—really super sweet—and I couldn't help myself. I wanted to get the ideas out while they were still fresh in my head. I hope this is good. Dun, dun, dun, right? Oh, my dear, Reggie… dear sweet Reggie… Do you know what you're asking? Probably not. It'll all work out though, right? Well, you'll see.

And for the love of all that cheesey nachoey goodness, please let me not make this thing last 40 chapters. 35, just 35 at most. Please. Yes?

Also, the Brits call cookies biscuits. That's why when it was Reggie's pov they were called as much. You didn't honestly think they were eating actual bits of something better served for breakfast, right? I hope not. Also, pretty sure they didn't call them couches back in the day, but I'm too tired to be historically accurate or look back in the chapters to see what I figured out previously. So poo. Just self-insert the Victorian Brit word for couch and call it a day. It's easy. Promise. And last chapter, yeah, they didn't call them boxers. For some reason I thought smalls…? Turns out drawers. Apparently underwear called union jacks were really popular. But everytime I tried imagine Spike in the equivalent of a onesie I just died of laughter. Couldn't—just couldn't do it. The imaginary milk come out of my nose was a sign that it was just not meant to be.

Peace.

—Blade