Chapter One Hundred and Thirty

Anti-Love Spells

A/N i wrote this first scene whilst procrastinating about an assignment that I have due today. So you are welcome. Also, the next few chapters might be a little dialogue heavy because I've just finished writing a short film. Brain is in screenplay mode. OK it's like 3 days later, I have just finished my first year of university so yay me. So updates will be much better now. Do you guys realise how many patrol scenes I've written now? So many, my notes said 'Spike patrols' and my brain expects me to make up the scene as I go along. 'Spike patrols' is not a 700 word scene description. I don't know why, I literally made it myself ok, it's been a long week. And it's only Thursday.

San Francisco, the world without shrimp - April 2006

"Teams of two, Summers, Rosenbergs, Harrises, and Gileses." Dawn said, pointing out each of the teams and sitting on the floor next to Buffy.

"I'm a Rosenberg?" Tara said, smiling shyly at Willow who nodded and pulled her in next to her on the floor. There was a perfectly decent sized table in the room and yet Dawn insisted they sit on the floor. Apparently the game was 'better' that way.

"Excuse me?" Spike said, "why am I with England over here?"

"Because you didn't want to tell Dawn that we still roleplay as Randy and Joan from time to time." Buffy piped up, Dawn's head whipped round. Alert and eyes frozen like a deer in headlights.

"You what?" She said.

"We um I-"

"Yeah, I heard you I just couldn't believe what I was hearing." Spike raised an eyebrow in the corner until Tara gave him a look that suggested he took it down a notch.

"Well, I'm proud to be a Harris." Anya said, presenting her hand for everyone to inspect her wedding ring again.

"Ughh can we just play Monopoly now?" Dawn moaned, she hadn't been allowed to invite Leo to game night and was pretty miffed about it. Not that she was holding it against Buffy or anything.

Xander stared at the board, the board stared right back. His lips creased into a cunning smile as he moved his piece, he was three moves away from the Liverpool St. Station square. Only three moves away from owning all four stations. This was a crucial moment in the game. They were three hours into the game and no one had a hotel yet. Apparently the Scooby Gang hadn't had a lot of time to practice their Monopoly skills. With the exception of Giles who was really keeping Spike afloat. He had no idea how to play Monopoly, having no other friends for that last century except a gang of vampires and Drusilla, who didn't know how to play either. Not that she was in a fit state of mind to learn the rules. Giles was trying to explain, but his patience was running thin and half of the time he took Spike's go and let the vamp go out on the balcony for a cigarette.

They were playing the English version of the game because none of them had really played it until Sunnydale was destroyed and they found themselves in England and bored for the first time, well ever. Normally game nights were all about the charades but Giles had insisted they play something that he stood a chance of winning. Anya liked board games because most of them they were about money. Dawn just liked that everyone could sit down and do something together that wasn't evil. Willow and Tara were generally in favour but pretty neutral about board games. Though Willow didn't think it was fair the whole time, she wasn't a big fan of capitalism in general.

Buffy liked to see Dawn smiling. She felt time slowing a little as she glanced around at her friends, she saw everyone laughing and having a good time. Spike was fed up of the game so he was breathing softly on the back of her neck. She worried about Giles, he was living in a tiny little apartment above the New Sunnydale magic shop, alone. She wished he would find someone, but he took up too much time making sure her and Dawn were okay. They were his children really. Giles was far too old to having kids now, but if he did, what they call her? Aunt Buffy feels a little odd. Aunt Buffy to Xander and Anya's kids sure, but Giles'. Okay, this brain mush is really getting too weird now. She thought, bringing herself back to the room, apparently it was her turn.

Giles won. And boy did he celebrate, two hotels and six houses later and he was cheering. Spike even smiled. Then he took Buffy to bed and the rest of the group had to dismiss themselves. Dawn thanked everybody for coming and told them they should do this every week.

Later that night...

She was there in the distance. A figure of white. She stood under a halo of light, so beautiful in the moonlight that didn't exist. When she turned around, Giles saw that the only light was coming from a streetlamp's yellow glow. She wasn't gleaming in white at all, she was glitching. A half-real hologram, Giles put his arm out and it went right through her. Not there at all. She stared past him, her image the last thing he'd seen of her. Her hair had grown, it wasn't cut smartly above her shoulders anymore. It was harsh and jagged.

Her skin was grey, stained with death. She looked as paper thin as a ghost, Giles took a step forward, trying to reach for her. His arms outstretched he began to chase her ethereal form. He ran around the empty space, only the light of the streetlamp helping to guide his way. Eventually he reached perpetual darkness, she was nowhere to seen. Hiding in a shadow away from the world, her head bent over her slumped legs she wept for him. But he could never find her.

"Jenny..." Giles cried out in a whisper, but calling her name did nothing to bring her closer. He just stumbled around the dark, tripping over his own feet and falling. The bump he would have on his head in the morning would be proof enough that he was real and she wasn't. It was the sad truth that had been his reality for eight years. He stumbled to his small studio kitchen and boiled the kettle. Only a cup of tea would solve this, he wouldn't be able to sleep without it. So he stared around the room while the temperature of the water rose. He looked at the calendar and saw that today was her birthday.

All he could smell was her. For weeks after her death his house smelt like her perfume and he couldn't work out why until he found once of her scarves mixed up in his laundry. He still had it. Tucked inside his sock drawer was the perfectly folded material traced with her eclectic scent. He brought to his lips and inhaled her deeply. The tea was not helping soothe his mind. Only this, only the presence of her would calm him from his nightmares.

He'd been thinking about more and more recently, the further he got from his last date, from the time before he stopped caring. His mind circled back to what he'd lost, things hadn't worked out with Olivia for precisely this reason. He was too caught up on what could've been, where he could've been by now. All the love they could've created together. He had a shot at being normal. Ever since the slayer activation and new Watcher's Council, he was barely needed anymore. The magic shop was being run successfully by Anya, who had finally learned some people skills. He didn't have a place anymore.

The next day...

Spike wandered through the field of graves. A stake tucked into his belt and a fresh lick of bleach in his undead hair. His head turned at the slightest sound, he was alert on adrenaline. Well he told himself he was. Not having circulation meant that the adrenaline couldn't really do anything, but he could pretend. He heard a crunch, the sound of a foot pressing down on fallen leaves. It was April but there were still fallen leaves. His head whipped round faster than whippet on a racetrack. Then there was a lot of staring down and flaring nostrils between the two testosterone-fuelled males. Again though, they were both dead, so like, not sure how the testosterone was getting around their bodies.

When Spike finally squared up to his opponent he realised he was a foot shorter than him. So lame. He felt emasculated, like anytime he stood next to Angel. "Ah man," he said, flinging his hands out and huffing angrily. Then the other vampire punched him, right in the eye. Spike was fuming now, "you're gonna pay for that!" He screamed and then pushed him backwards. He pulled the stake from his belt aggressively and lunged towards the vamp with all his strength. It was like time stopped. Time literally frozen in front of him. Time slowing until there was just nothing. Nothing but him and the stake and his target.

He missed.

He fell to the floor in a heap. His duster was muddied by the dirt on the path and he groaned loudly, picking himself up. The vampire had scattered from the path and could now be anywhere in the city. Great job Spike! He thought to himself, imagining the sarcastic look on Buffy's face when he told her he let a vamp get away. She'd probably sigh and tell him not to worry about it, but he was sick of being just a bit rubbish. That was Giles' job. He was a vampire, a demon, he was an immortal being with super strength and innate martial arts skills. He could be a champion too. If he cared enough about that.

Ah damn, now I really want a Mountain Dew- He was going to say out loud when he was tackled by another new riser. He flipped her over his shoulder and watched her scramble about in the dirt. "Ha ha," he said, realising he was still holding the stake. He pushed forward and stabbed her right in the heart. Well left in the heart, because the heart is on the left. Though not from where he was standing. Right in the heart.

The vampire turned to dust, making the path even dirtier. Spike grinned slyly and tucked the stake back into his belt. He thought about telling Buffy he slayed something, he thought about walking into apartment and slamming his duster into the couch. He thought of taking her right then and there on the kitchen counter. He was always energised after a kill, like he was earning a score. At the end of the month if he met his quota he would get a free coffee or something. Slaying loyalty card. After all, it wasn't his destiny or whatever. He was out here slaving away for free.

He stalked off out of the cemetery and down the main road. He stuck to the sidewalk and passed three fast food joints before reaching Buffy's apartment block. He never quite got used to the American block system so he just remembered where things were by landmarks, mainly places that would give him blood out the back. Not that there was much call for it these days, Anya had a supplier. Someday he should thank Xander for keeping her around. Though maybe not too much, he didn't want to get on the wrong side of the guy with the weapons chest. Whilst he was sleeping with the woman with a weapons chest. That could end in disaster. Again.