Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Buffy found that words were caught in her throat. They were words she had meant to say, but immediately became words forgotten. She blinked several times and her mouth remained open. Whatever noise came instead reminded her of a stumble, something perhaps resembling an 'um' but more like creak.

"You want to what?" she managed to ask.

Reggie frowned. Her eyes were clear and her mouth rigid. Her chin stilled with the tightness of her jaw and the space between her brows wrinkled. "I imagine you want to tell me no."

Buffy really didn't know what to tell her. It's not like anyone had ever asked her if they could come back to the future with her. And she really couldn't remember that ever happening in any of the 80s or 90s movies she'd watched on the subject. She found her gaze shifting to Tara's for answers. But Reggie drew her back firmly.

"He's my brother, Buffy. I love him so very much. I don't want to be in a world without him, or at the very least in a world where he's not fit to be around. And I just… I don't belong here."

"And you think you belong in Buffy's?" Tara asked.

Reggie looked at the brunette. "I don't know, Miss McClay… Truly, I don't. But…"

"Yes?" the Wicca urged.

Reggie hesitated and her fingers moved to interlock with one another, rubbing and twitching at her palms and knuckles. "I didn't see a lot in what you showed me, but women looked as though they could do and be what they wanted. Go to parties with men or by themselves without an escort, work for a living the same as men, go to university—Buffy did." She glanced at her as she mentioned her name. "I wouldn't have to hide who I am. I could learn fencing and… I wouldn't have to marry if I didn't want to, right?"

"You wouldn't," Buffy agreed softly.

"You know I'm not happy here," Reggie told Buffy. "And I want to be with my brother—in your world, your time.

"Please."

Buffy still wasn't certain what to tell her. Again, she found herself looking to Tara. The Wicca met her gaze and frowned—not a lot of help at all. And Kit, for his part, was silent. Buffy could only assume he didn't think he had a say in this discussion.

"Why don't you take the carriage home before it gets any later?" Tara suggested. "We'll give it some thought and let you know, alright?"

Reggie nodded and stood up, hat in hand. "Alright. Thank you, again. Goodbye."

Both Kit and Tara murmured their goodbyes and smiled gently.

"I'll walk you to the door," Buffy offered, following her as she moved to leave.

When they were out of the room, Reggie said, "It must seem altogether silly to you—my wanting to go with you."

"Not really," Buffy told her, hands moving behind her back. "I think it's neat being here, but I like my home better. I miss television and cars."

"Cars? Are those… are they those things made of metal that look like carriages but shorter and longer?"

"Yeah. They're much smoother to ride in than carriages. I almost got sick the first times in one here. I also miss a nice long hot bath."

"I do enjoy one of those every once in a while."

"In my time you can have one every night if you want—all with the marvel of modern plumbing."

"Truly?"

Buffy grinned at her wide eyes. "Yeah, really."

When they stopped at the door and Buffy opened it Reggie turned to face her. "I realize I'm asking for a lot. And… I don't know how to convince you, but you have to know my reasons aren't simply for myself, Buffy. They're also for my brother. I don't know what he was like immediately after he became a vampire, but before then he was always a man of the family—he loves us all so dearly."

"I think I have an idea."

"Yes," she smiled and nodded, "I imagine you do." She rubbed her arms as if trying to combat some unknown chill. "He's been very… lost because of mother. Much was the same for our father's death, but this is… deeper." She sighed and shook her head before gathering hair back, pushing it into the cap and setting it on her head. "I want to be there for him. Lily will get on fine without us, especially now that she has Kit. She wouldn't say it, but she hasn't let anyone in this close since Wulf. And if your uncle—whoever he is to you—is half the man he presents himself to be… well… it's William I have the most worry of. Not my sister."

"Do you think I'll say no?" Buffy wasn't sure she could tell Reggie that she wasn't certain she even had a say.

"I don't know, but I want you to know that I feel like this is something I have to do. And never in my life have I felt that way about something—not even pistols or fencing. Do you know how that feels, Buffy? That rushing confidence that you have to do something no matter the consequence?"

It made Buffy think of her duty, of how Angel had made her feel like she needed normal and how Spike had made her feel like being a slayer was in her blood—her very being. Learning to accept that… yes, she did. She couldn't really think what her life would be like without being the slayer. She'd experienced it once and didn't have any desire to go back to that.

"I do," she admitted softly.

"Well… thank you regardless—for telling me the truth. I won't say anything to my brother."

Buffy reached out and hugged her. "Be safe getting home."

"Thank you." Reggie squeezed once before pulling away. She smiled at Buffy and then left down the stairs to the awaiting carriage.

Buffy didn't close the door until it was out of sight, making sure to lock it behind her. She forced her thoughts into silence until she made it back to the library. Tara and Kit were both as they had been before; though the watcher was making himself another cup of tea.

"There's something we need to discuss before we go over Reggie's request," Kit said before either woman could speak.

As Buffy took her seat back a single brow rose. "Ok?"

He set down the spoon he'd been stirring with and rose to sit upright with the saucer of the teacup in his hands. "Ah… yes. You see, I intended to tell you earlier—much sooner. But there's been so much going on with Anne's death and…"

"Is it bad?" Tara asked. And then she blinked. "Oh, no, wait… I think I already know what this is about."

"I assumed you might."

She shrugged and waved a hand. "I usually know what's going on, but it doesn't always stick. As in… well… it's there, but like a reference book, I have to look for it on the shelves.

"This is about Lilith, right?"

"Lilith?" Buffy asked, not exactly enjoying being out of the loop.

"Wulf, her late husband, was a watcher for the office in Scotland," Kit told Buffy after he took a sip of his tea. "She confided this to me while we were at the country party."

"Does she know about—."

"No," Kit shook his head. "She does not know about William. But given that Reggie does, however accidental that was, I believe I should tell her. There's a good chance she could assist me with my research on the tome Tara gave us."

"Oh, ok." Buffy blinked. "I mean… I don't see an issue with it—now that the cat is out of the bag." She looked at Tara. "How about you?"

"Should be fine." Tara nodded and looked at Kit. "It would probably be a good thing to have her helping you. If she found out Reggie knew this whole time and she wasn't told it wouldn't be good for any of us. Do you think she'll believe you?"

"Certainly. It will not be as difficult to convince her as it was Reggie."

"Regardless," Tara told him, "if you need my help, I'll check in with you later tomorrow—today."

Kit nodded. "Thank you."

"Well… now that that's settled," Buffy said, hands slapping on her thighs.

"Yes," Tara agreed. "What do you think of it? Reggie's request?"

"That it was kind of a bomb drop, right?" Buffy's lips twitched, looking like something of a mix between a frown and a smirk.

"A bit more than that," Kit said.

"I mean… can she?" Buffy asked, her face scrunching in confusion. "You know, if we were going to let her—is she allowed?"

"You mean will the PTB let her?" Tara asked.

"Yeah."

"I'd have to wonder about it being bad for the timeline," Kit put in next.

"I was think that too," Buffy said.

Tara shook her head. "It really depends. It's not as though she's asking to go back in time. That could cause problems. What she's asking is to go to the furthest measured point that exists."

"Meaning?" Buffy asked as she moved to lean forward so her elbows on were on her knees, supporting her.

"Nothing exists beyond your time. Sure," Tara said as she waved a hand, "People like oracles can get warnings about things maybe happening—but it's a possible future based on certain things coming to fruition. It's all a lot of math." She shook her head. "To get permission to take her with you I'd need to run it by my superiors and then they would have to do that math to see what the risks are."

"O…k…" Buffy blinked a few times. "So not math girl here."

"Me either," Tara agreed. "Basically… like you couldn't take Einstein forward to your time and keep him there because all he ever did wouldn't happen—depending on how old he was when he went. So that would be a no go."

"We'd have to assume Reggie doesn't set anything in motion that warrants a drastic change to the timeline if she's not here. Correct?" Kit asked.

"Exactly," Tara said, nodding. "Buffy," she went on, "do you want her to come with you? Have you thought about what that would mean? You'd have to be responsible for her were it approved." She frowned. "And your living situation right now… it's not…"

"I know." Buffy closed her eyes and rubbed at her temple as she dropped her head slightly.

"Living situation?" Kit asked, one brow raising.

Buffy dropped her hand next. "Yeah… I'm kind of broke in the future. No money. No job. Nada. Kinda been that way since my mother died." She let out noise that sounded like a grumble as she flopped back on the couch and spread her arms to either side of her. Her gaze shifted towards the ceiling and she watched as the firelight flickered weird shadow patterns. "It's not easy to be work dependable when you're the slayer."

"Ah… yes… and the council wouldn't provide because you quit."

"Pretty much," she muttered in return to the watcher. "I pink-slipped them and now it's all Buffy on her own with Dawn."

"Dawn?"

"My sister. Been responsible for her since my mother died." She lifted her head back to a comfortable position and looked at Tara. "You have a point though… how can I take care of Reggie if I can barely take care of Dawn and I? If she went with us how would I get her in school? Get her, like, paperwork? An identity? Would she get deported?" Buffy blinked. "This is a lot." Her brain hurt with it.

"Do you want her to go with you, Buffy? I mean, if none of that was an issue?" Tara asked.

"I feel bad for her," she admitted, frowning. "I've only been here a few weeks—as a guy—and I really wouldn't want to be here full time." She glanced at Kit. "No offense."

"None taken." He smiled and continued to sip at his tea. "I wouldn't want to live a hundred from now in the past either—ever."

Buffy chuckled. "Ditto." She sat up straighter and spoke to Tara again. "I mean, she's right, you know? She doesn't really fit in here. It'd be one thing if she were more like her sister, I guess. But Reggie likes gun and swords and… I can't see any guy she marries letting her be her. Spike—William—he's kind of not the norm. And believe me, I've been here long enough to talk to the norm." She shrugged. "There's some sweet guys here, ones she could marry, but even they're not gonna be ok with her hobbies. It'd be a stretch anyway.

"She's too much like a 21st century girl," she added lastly.

"Would it even be possible?" Kit asked Tara.

"It might be. I'd have to ask." she was looking at Buffy then, her gaze hard and solid—eyes narrowed but warm. "I just need to know you're serious about taking her. The money issue can't be helped, you know. But the other stuff—getting her an identity so you could put her in school and stuff—that can be done. If she's allowed to go."

"There's also her disappearance to consider along with William's," Kit said. "That's two missing family members at the same time after one died."

"True," Tara said, "But the PTB already has plans to remedy Spike's disappearance. Reggie's can easily be added to that with a few tweaks in such a way that it doesn't lead back to Lilith or lay the blame on any innocent bystander."

Buffy heard them, but she wasn't thinking about that. No, she was thinking about money. It always came back to that, didn't it? That really worried her. She didn't think Reggie would be difficult to manage. Dawn would love her—someone closer to her own age to hang out with. She'd probably consider her another sister. But could Buffy afford another mouth to feed? She was Spike's sister, but it's not like the vampire had a way to make money. Kitten poker really didn't count. And Reggie couldn't live in a crypt with him.

Although… there was the look Reggie had given her, the strength in her voice. Buffy reminded herself, with an internal laugh, that there were always bills to pay—they would pile up with or without Reggie. And Spike… she couldn't imagine him being upset. He'd probably want her to go. He'd be happy to have some family in Sunnydale—someone on his side aside from Buffy and Dawn when shit hit the fan with Xander, Giles, and possibly Willow.

God. Was there really a choice here?

"Buffy?" Tara asked, smiling.

She laughed softly. "You already know what I'm going to say, is that it?"

"You've always tried to do the right thing and this feels like the right thing. So yes, I think I do."

Buffy nodded. "I guess you have your answer then. If the PTB will let me—if they can handle her going missing in this time and get me the paperwork stuff—I'll be glad to have her. Just… do me a favor and remind them of one thing."

"That is?"

"I've saved the world a lot."

#

William knew he'd slept far too long when he looked at his bedroom window and noted the bright illumination, but no sun. Not quite late afternoon, but not quite morning either. If he were to look at the clock it would likely point at somewhere between noon and two. He could recall someone coming to bother him to eat breakfast and then lunch, both of which he'd refused. His stomach growled and he knew he needed to eat, knew he needed to leave his room, but he just… didn't care? Perhaps that was it, yes.

Life had taken on a dull shade. Everything was dimmer, everything tasted less sweet—less savory, and even the urge to write had fizzled out. He'd tried to write something last night. His hand had hung over the paper, pen poised and dripping black splotches until he'd pulled it away and set it aside. What books he'd tried to read… the words had blurred on the pages. The gaping hole in his chest was a gulf to wide to bridge, to sail across. Dare had eased the pain, but there was no eradicating it completely. Only time would help in that regard… perhaps.

But… he did need to leave the room. He needed to force himself to eat something and then he really did need to get on the letters in his study. With a sigh pulled the curtains open fully before with both hands. Then he pulled the chord along his wall to call for Fredrick to come dress him.

Thirty minutes later, clean shaven and well tucked into his clothes, William made his way to his study. He'd told Fredrick to let a maid know he'd have a late lunch there. He fully expected the room to be empty, if not a little dusty with his absence, when he entered. Instead, he found himself giving a sharp pause once he spied his youngest sister. She was bent over a stack of papers as she held them, eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted. The other hand held a pen that hovered over another stack she'd been writing on.

"Reggie?" he asked. "What are you doing?"

She blinked at him as she lifted her head. And then smiled. "Afternoon to you as well, brother. I should think it was obvious." She waved the hand holding the pen over the mess in front of her. "I'm organizing our expenses and trying to make some sense of it all."

"Yes…" he replied, scratching his scalp and upsetting his unruly curls he'd forgone slicking back. "I can see that, but…"

"You remember what mother said," she told him with a frown. Reggie put the pen and the papers down. "She wanted me to sort it—to fix things. And if it comes to it…"

"Sell the jewels… I know. I was there," he muttered, gaze cast downward. His hands moved to his hips. "You don't have to do this right now though." He knew how important the finances were, but they'd just lost their mother. Despite his her wishes… it just seemed wrong to let Reggie do this now—right now. "You can wait a few more days."

"Yes I do and no I can't." Her voice was firm, solid on the air. "We're running out of time—money. If we wait too long…"

"I'm well aware—believe me." He his hands fell to his sides.

The frown was back—more serious in the way the line of her lips became prominent. "I don't want to sell them either—the jewels. If I can figure out how to make the money last, maybe sell a property… something."

"I'd rather not."

"I assumed a much." A weary smile. She looked down and then looked back up at him. "But something might have to go, brother dear."

"Yes, but the more we let go of—sell—the less we have to support ourselves with later on."

"True. Though… there might be another option. We'd still probably have to sell a few properties, maybe. But…"

He just stared at her, waiting for her to go on.

She tapped her fingers on the desk and then said, "You know that Lord Blackwood is courting Lily, yes?"

"I've been vaguely aware of it."

"He could solve a lot of our problems, Will. You should speak to him."

He nodded. "Yes, I suppose I should. They've been spending enough time together to warrant my approaching him."

"I understand that Lily wouldn't be able to marry him for another year if she wanted to avoid scandal. So… in the meantime, even if they do agree to do so, I need to come up with a way to keep us afloat. Unless Kit agrees to give us a loan… Though, I'm not sure how I feel about that." She scratched the back of her neck. "At least we can cut expenses on my tour of society and entertaining guests. Won't have any—much—with mother gone."

"We've never had many to begin with," he said with light and bitter chuckle. "But you're not wrong."

"Listen," she went on after a short silence, "I'll work in here for a while, tally our debt and see what can be done. You go on and get something to eat—talk to Lily about Kit. Then you and I and Lily can go over to Blackwood's for dinner—I already sent a note to Dare and he agreed we could come over for my lessons and dinner.

"The sooner you talk to Kit the better—assuming Lily has interest in marrying him."

"You're certainly taking charge," he couldn't help but note with a smile.

"Maybe," she said as she returned the smile. "I only want to help, Will. This is hard for us all and… we've enough to deal with because of mother's death. Each of us needs to pull our weight to survive.

"I'm just doing my part."

Will realized then that it helped keep her mind of their mother's death. Even if they weren't suffering financially… he likely wouldn't have denied her this. Not if it helped distract her from the pain he could barely find an outlet for.

"Now go eat."

"Very well. No point in arguing if you've got things managed here. Just tell the maid when she comes with my food to send it down to the library."

"I will. Love you," she murmured softly. "It'll get better. I promise."

As he left he told himself he wanted Reggie to be right, but Will knew from experience that there was no magic button that made everything alright. Dare's face flashed in his mind; he smiled—but it dropped.

He still didn't know how he felt or what he wanted to do. It really wasn't the best time to think about it, he knew… but… like Reggie told him… they all had to do their part. If he was serious, if he was going to be serious about Dare and make that dive…

He needed to figure it out—figure out if he loved him and soon. He couldn't put the burden of marriage on Lily any more than he could on Reggie and keep stalling. And if neither of them wanted to make that dive, even if they could hold out for a year without selling the gems… they would eventually have to sell them if William didn't.

His mother's voice whispered in his ear, urging him to sell the damned things—they were just stones, she'd reminded him. Just stones…

But then he asked himself… would he be this undecided about a woman he didn't love that he needed to marry for money? Would keeping the gems be worth being unhappy? Marrying someone he didn't care about? Someone who could potentially be awful…? And then he barked laughter, slapping a hand over his face as he paused in his downward path on the stairs. Anyone he married would get the jewels, just as his father had given them to his mother when they'd married.

Good God, maybe he was an idiot.

Maybe. Or maybe he needed to quit overcomplicating things.

Mother… I need a sign. Just one. Please.

AN :: Getting an update in a little early, but don't expect one in November; this one is the November update. You might get lucky, depending on my muse and my time management, but don't hold your breath.

The more chapters I add to this fic the more I realize it's probably going to be forty chapters. I kind of hate that, buuuut… I know I've got loose ends to tie up once Buffy gets back home. Namely with Xander, Willow, Giles, and probably Anya. I also have plans for an epilogue of sorts. Plus, Willow needs to figure things out with dear sweet Tara.

My favorite part of writing this chapter was Buffy's last line to Tara before the chapter break. Originally I had this whole conversation planned where Buffy insisted that Reggie go with—her reasoning that she'd sacrificed a lot and never really asked the PTB for anything. Though, this felt more appropriate. And I wanted to give a silent nod to the writing on her gravestone; like an inside Buffy fan joke. Kind of.

Anyway, thanks for reading, reviewing, and supporting. See you guys next time.

—Blade