Next Time Won't You Sing With Me

by Willow-98

An alphabetic series of one-shots that show different possible outcomes, moments and developments in the relationship between Spike and Buffy. "Her last bastion of strength had been stolen from her. Ripped away and the wound it's absence left was debilitating. Raw, angry and seeping with betrayal, hatred and a melancholy so deep that she was drowning in it." -A is for Apocalypse

11. K is for Kindred

K is for Kindred

It was his wish

To breathe her in

And hold her close

Once more

It was his hope

She'd find him

Here

Waiting for her

To make them whole again

It was his desire

To feel her touch

And the love it made him

Feel

But death claimed

Her

Leaving him to wait

For a lifetime

-Amanda Lenore Cheairs

---

The silk sheets were cool and soft against her smooth, milky skin as she gracefully moved out of the bed. The arctic blast of night air didn't bother her as her delicate feet hit the cold stone floor. Long dark hair spun freely as she twirled in the gentle moonlight that streamed through the window panes. She danced her way out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the parlor as she stalked her prey.

She found him leaning against the large bay window as he stared out into the night. Her beautiful boy. "Come back to bed, my William," she entreated as she drew closer to him, wrapping icy hands around his bare torso. "Come see to your dark princess," she whispered into his ear before nipping at the lobe and trailing a path down his neck.

Spike tensed up a bit, no longer did her William melt against her at the slightest provocation. Gone, gone away from her he was, lost in the waves of his past. Drowning in the churning sea of his memories. "Sorry, luv," he said, voice low and quiet as it oft was anymore.

She pulled away from him in dismay. "You're leaving again," she said with a glare and a pout. Spike sighed as he turned away from the beckoning night and turned towards her. He reached out and allowed his hand to trail down her collarbone, tracing a line down to her breast and lingering there for a moment before breaking the connection and stepping away.

"Duty calls, Dru," he said distantly as he walked back into the bedroom and began to don his clothes. The muscles in his back moved sinuously as he pulled his shirt on, his biceps flexed as he buttoned his jeans. He really was beautiful, her poor, lost little lamb.

"Will you return to me, my Spike?" she questioned as she slipped back into bed, shooting a petulant glare at Miss Edith when she whispered naughty, naughty lies. Of course William was hers. He had always been hers. She made him.

Spike hesitated in his packing, turning to her with his head tilted as he studied her for a long moment. She wondered if he saw her as clearly as she saw him. She wondered if he knew that she already knew his answer. Theirs was but a drop in the ocean of time. Perhaps they'd one day catch another wave, but it would not be for a long, long time. If ever.

"I don't think so, luv," he finally replied. Honest 'til the last, her William. He moved towards her then and leaned down to grace her forehead with a lingering, gentle kiss. "Goodbye Dru," he murmured, his lips moving against her skin.

He was just about out the door when she decided to let him in on one final secret. "Take heart, William. For Persephone shall soon rise and grace the earth again, she'll bring with her the summer sun and light up all the dark corners where we demons gnash and snarl in the night," she told him, her voice lulling as she swayed to and fro on the bed.

Spike frowned for a moment before gracing her with a smile. It wasn't like the ones he used to give her, full of love and death. Her wicked plum. No, it was rather sad and redolent of times long passed. "Ta, luv," was his only reply before sweeping out of her room.

She ignored the pixies and Miss Edith as she fell back against the soft pillows and wept. So lost to the light, her boy. Even after so many years and she knew that he would never again stay to dance with her in the shadows.

~BTVS~

Eternity passed around her, through her, for her. Warmth and light and love sang through her every molecule. It was, quite literally, heaven. When she had arrived eons ago she'd been embraced by her mother, filled with her love and maybe a bit of sorrow. She'd been so terribly young when she'd sacrificed herself for her baby sister.

Over time others started to stream in, laughter and tears were shared as long lost friends were brought into the fold. Xander was the first. For Buffy it had felt much longer, millennia longer, but Xander said he'd lived until just after his forty eighth birthday.

"The world is a little...well, darker now, I guess," he'd told her once they got past the tidal wave of emotion that had encompassed their reunion. She had asked about Dawn, of course. "She's doing as well as anyone. Married to a watcher...smart as ever, our little Dawnie," he'd told her.

Willow was next, Xander had been with them for so long but according to Willow it had really been less than five years on earth before she'd joined them. Her entrance was more solemn. Their warm embrace broken by the witches' tears and desperation. "It's too soon," she'd sobbed. "There was...we were…I don't know if they'll survive," she'd broken down.

Tara was called to them shortly thereafter. The gentle witch had never said as much but Buffy and Xander believed that she hadn't had much will to fight on following Willow's untimely reunion with Buffy, Xander and Joyce waited until after she'd broken against Willow. "We won. Barely…but we did. I- I think everyone else survived. I d-did what I could," she'd told them and they'd embraced her.

"It's better here, Tara. You'll see," Buffy had told her soothingly.

Anya was the next. "This sucks! I can't believe I gave up immortality for this! At least I died before I got too wrinkly," were her first words and everyone dissolved into giggles even as Xander darted over and swooped her up.

Giles outlived them all, the original scoobies. He told them he'd been nearly ninety. "Oddly enough, I managed to die in my sleep. Hopefully Dawn finds that translation I was working on," he told them with a slight frown. "It is so good to see you all," he added, slightly teary as he took in the long lost faces of his charges. "So, so good."

Buffy sometimes caught up with some of Angel's crew too that had joined them over the years as well. She met Fred and Gunn. Got to know the new and improved Wesley, learned the Cordelia had died before all the rest of them and had become a higher being (something that still made Buffy giggle when she thought about it.)

She was surprised, not unhappily so, when Angel joined them. He seemed more surprised than anyone that he'd been granted entry. She did, as she always did, and asked if he had any information on Dawn, she'd learned from Giles that her sister's husband had died some time ago. "She's still fighting the good fight with Spike at her side," he told her with a half grin. Buffy smiled back. The others had filled her in on the group dynamic following her death. How Spike had kept his promise and stepped in to keep Dawnie alive and well. No one, not even Xander, had anything truly bad to say about the vampire anymore.

The mood was more solemn when Dawn finally joined them. Something about her demeanor even as she embraced her sister and mother and the people who had been in her life far longer than her blood relatives. As her husband, Jasper, joined them and met Buffy and Joyce for the first time. An air of depression clung to her and so Buffy pulled her aside once she'd gotten settled.

"I lived a long life, all things considered," Dawn had told her. "Made it past sixty...more than forty years longer than you," she said, like it had been a competition. "And it's real good to see you all again. It's just...I was all he had left. After Angel died…"

Buffy didn't need to her name who she was talking about. Not really, she knew that Spike had been with her sister every step of the way for nearly half a century. "I loved him, Buffy. Loved him in a way that he could never love me, not with the memory of you between us."

"What about Jasper?" Buffy had asked.

Dawnie smiled sadly. "Jas is a good man and I do love him. If I couldn't have Spike...I'm glad that I loved Jasper." She'd shaken her head as she fought of tears. "I never really thought about it when we were young, you know. How lonely it was going to be for him, loving us. Outliving us, always. I wish I could have stayed just a little longer."

Buffy had tears in her eyes herself as she'd listened to her sister. "A little longer would have still been too soon, Dawnie," she'd murmured as she'd pulled her into her embrace.

Time drifted as it always did, an eternity in cotton clouds and warm sunshine. Dawn grew happy, as Buffy knew she would. It was impossible to stay depressed in a place like this, surrounded by all the people you loved in life. The more it filled up the happier it got, so long as no one talked about the deteriorating state of the world they'd died to protect.

Her sister Slayers filtered in sometimes, eager to meet her. Too many of them, though she knew that that's how it had always gone. Some lived weeks, others years. Nearly all of them knew of Spike, spoke fondly of him even as they muttered about him being an ass...or, sometimes, just about his ass in general. She wondered at the new dynamic between Slayer and Slayer of Slayers but she didn't ask many questions. It wasn't her life anymore.

Millennia passed before she was approached by one of the few people she didn't think she'd ever see again. "Cordelia?" she asked in surprise.

"Hey Buffy, good to see you," the former cheerleader replied as she graced her with a quick hug.

"Angel will be really happy to see you," Buffy said with a bright grin.

Cordy's smile fell a bit. "I can't see him, I'm only allowed here long enough to speak with you," she told her sadly.

Buffy frowned. "About what?"

"About saving the world...again," Cordelia replied hesitantly. Buffy felt the world darken and shift around her as she listened to Cordelia describe what had become of the world she'd long ago left behind.

"Would I get to come back here, afterwards?" she asked.

Cordelia hesitated. "Not exactly. Not unless you die in the battle, anyway. You'd essentially be resuming life where you left off at twenty. Same body, same Slayer strength."

"Not exactly a reward," Buffy muttered as she thought of everything and everyone she'd be leaving behind.

"No, it's not," Cordy sighed. "The PTB are prepared to owe you one, a big one. Pretty much anything you want," she sweetened the pot.

"Must be big," Buffy said softly.

"The biggest," Cordelia agreed solemnly.

"Can I say goodbye?" Buffy asked and Cordelia smiled in relief.

"Yes," she confirmed. "I don't know when it will happen but they'll try to make it as painless as possible, you being pulled out of here and returned down there."

Then she was gone and Buffy was still and numb for a moment before catapulting herself into movement, a long forgotten sense of urgency running through her veins.

They had taken the news well, though with no small measure of surprise. She had just about finished hugging everyone when she felt a twisting sensation in her gut. "It's happening," she said quickly.

Dawn threw herself into Buffy's arms. "Find Spike for me, please? Make sure he's...okay," she begged just as Buffy disappeared.

~BTVS~

The Slayer was pretty much useless and if Spike hadn't long ago turned over a new leaf he would have snapped her neck himself and tried his luck with the next one. "Demon's can smell fear, Slayer. We can also spot it by sight...you're not painting a very intimidating image," he muttered, rolling his eyes as she squeaked when the demon she was fighting charged at her.

"Bugger," he grunted as the ineffective chit was about to get herself decapitated. He sauntered over and, despite his better judgment, snapped the neck of the demon before it could finish the killing blow. "That was pathetic," he sneered down at the girl who was supposed to be their saving grace.

Sasha stood up angrily and dusted herself off. "I didn't ask for this any more than you asked for me!" she yelled out, kicking at a headstone.

Spike leaned back against a tree and lit a cigarette. "Newsflash, pet. No Slayer asks for this. You know that," he drawled with a shrug. "She either figures it out and fights back or she gets dead and the next one is called," he added, lifting his head towards the sky as he blew out a ring of smoke.

"Have you seen the world, Spike? There's no way one girl can save it!" she insisted, rage pulsing through her body and Spike breathed the smell of it in deep. Rage and fear thrumming nicely through those plump veins.

His lip curled up in disgust. "Yeah well, better women than you have at least tried," he shot back.

"And look where that got them! Dead!" the Slayer said, flinging an arm out for emphasis.

Spikes eyes narrowed dangerously. "Keep on the way you have been and you'll be joining them soon enough, Sasha," he told her in a low growl before turning to walk away. He shook his head and whirled back on her. "You know, they may be dead now but at least they went out swinging as they fought to make a difference. You die now? And you won't be known as anything more than a coward by those who knew you," he looked her up and down. "And less than that by those that didn't," he finished with a cruel smirk before melting into the shadows.

"That was a bit harsh," a familiar voice spoke up.

"Shut up, Cordelia," he snarled back.

"You sure you don't want to hear me out? I come bearing presents," she entreated in that peppy way of hers.

"Unless it's a vat of booze I'm not interested," he muttered as he continued on into the night.

"What if it's a Slayer that's actually effective?" she called out.

Spike snorted and spun to face her. "And you'll just conjure up one of those, will you?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah," Cordelia replied with sniff. "The Powers want you to help her get...re-oriented. Help her with her mission."

Cold dread filled him. "Re-oriented?" he questioned as he narrowed his eyes at her.

She held out her hands, palms facing him in a placating gesture. "It wasn't my idea. The PTB say it was long ago prophesied that The Slayer would one day return from the dead to save the world in it's greatest moment of need. And well, I mean you've lived forever so I'm sure you've noticed that the need is pretty great."

Drusilla's words from months back echoed through his head. Persephone returning and bringing with her the summer, chasing away the shadows. "So, what? You're bosses just yank her out of heaven and force her back to work?" he sneered.

Cordelia crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Drop the high and mighty act, Spike. We asked her first, I asked her first. You know that you can trust me even if you can't trust them. Buffy agreed to it. They're returning her to her body now," Cordelia assured him. As if on cue a pop sounded out through the night and standing there, in all her former golden glory, was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The Slayer.

She shook her head, clearly disoriented before looking from Cordelia to him. He frowned when a slight smile graced her lips as she took him in. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from the Slayer to look back at Cordelia. "So you, what? Want me to help her and the useless one?" he asked as he jabbed his thumb back towards where he'd left Sasha.

Cordelia huffed out an impatient sigh. "She's not useless Spike, she's just...new."

Spike threw his head and laughed. "Awfully kind of you, luv. She's been the Slayer for months now and she still can't figure out which end of the stake is supposed to go in the vampire," he scoffed.

Cordelia smiled sweetly. "Maybe you should offer yourself up as target practice."

Spike snorted, an almost genuine grin playing on his lips. "Could do that, I s'pose. Not like I'd be in any danger."

Cordy rolled her eyes again and turned to Buffy who'd been watching their exchange with interest. "Good luck with him, Buffy. He's not housebroken," she said in a stage whisper.

"Right," the Slayer replied, wincing at her parched throat. Her body, she supposed, hadn't had any water or food in… "How long have I been...gone?" she wondered.

"Oh," Cordelia's eyes widened. "It's so hard to keep track up there but I suppose it must have been-"

"One hundred and twenty three years," Spike answered quietly, keeping his hands busy by lighting up another cigarette. "The year is 2124."

Cordelia nodded as Buffy's eyes widened. "Yeah, that sounds right."

Buffy forced a half grin. "No wonder I'm so thirsty," she joked lamely.

Cordelia graced her with an amused smile before tilting her head as though she were listening to something. "I've gotta go, You'll be safe with Spike," she assured her before turning back to the vampire in question. She walked briskly towards him and pulled him into a quick embrace before waving one last time at Buffy and disappearing.

Spike looked from the spot where Cordelia had just been to the spot where a stunned Buffy still stood. "C'mon then, Slayer. Let's get to my flat before the sun's up, yeah?" he asked through a sigh.

~BTVS~

She had forgotten how loud the world could be. How bright and cold and hot all at once. She sat curled up on Spike's sofa, he had gotten her settled and then retired to his room hours ago. All his movements around her had been efficient and business like. Nothing like the nervous, almost shy, manner he treated her with before her death. At least, when he wasn't fighting with her- verbally or physically.

One hundred and twenty three years. Dawn had died over seventy years earlier which meant that Spike had been doing...whatever it was he was doing alone all that time. Working for the PTB from the sounds of it, still doing good despite having lost the only reason to do so she thought with a thoughtful frown.

A horn blared from outside the apartment and Buffy flinched, bringing her hands up to her ears to try and block it out. Too loud. Too bright. Why did she agree to this again?

~BTVS~

"So...you and Cordelia?" Buffy hedged with a quirk of her lips after Spike came out of his room a couple hours before dusk.

Spike scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Hardly."

"But you were all...huggy," she reminded him with a shrug.

"Good to hear your vocabulary is ever the same," he teased as he set the frozen pizza he had heated up down in front of her. "Two immortal beings who've watched everyone they love waste away...the cheerleader and I have a thing or two in common. 'S all there is to it," he told her blandly.

Buffy accepted his explanation and dug into her pizza, moaning sinfully at the flavor explosion in her mouth. "Oh my god, I'd forgotten how good food is!" she said between mouthfuls. Spike watched her with a hint of amusement and a shake of his head.

A pounding knock sounded at his door and Spike sighed as he stood to answer it. The ineffectual Slayer slammed her way in as soon as the door was cracked open. "My watcher says I have to continue to patrol with you," she seethed as she glared at him.

Spike raised a brow and sneered. "Yeah, well the pillock can't order me to continue patrolling with you," he reminded her. "Bloody pointless anyway," he muttered.

"Spike," Buffy said softly as she turned her eyes on the newest in her line. She had darker features and jet black hair, her eyes lined heavily and face over painted. Buffy recognized it for what it was though. Armor. A self esteem boost.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were availing yourself of women of the night," Sasha mocked pettily. Buffy raised an unamused brow and glanced down at her outfit which was so not prostitute-ish. Spike was a flash of black and blond as he stood before the young Slayer and wrapped a large hand around her small neck.

"I'd think," he drawled, his voice dangerously low and tight with anger. "That someone so terrified of her own shadow would watch her bloody mouth when in the presence of a demon who wouldn't lower himself to drink from you were you the last blood bag on the sodding planet."

Buffy stood and walked over to the pair, taking in the wide eyes of the mouthy Slayer, her quick breaths and the relatively loose grip Spike had around the girls throat. She put a gentle hand on Spike's and repeated his name. He let out a low growl before letting the Slayer go and stalking across the room.

Buffy smiled darkly at the youngest of her line. "It's been awhile since I've been alive," she said casually. "But in my day 'women of the night' dressed less like me," she said while waving a hand down at her loose gray pants and white long sleeved shirt. "And more like you."

Spike snorted from where he'd ended up at the window. "Sasha, meet Buffy. The Vampire Slayer," he introduced flatly, the snick of his lighter sounding throughout the room as he lit up a cigarette.

"But...you're dead. Generations ago," Sasha breathed out, eyes wide with disbelief and maybe a tinge of relief.

"Guess the higher ups weren't too confident in you," Spike intoned. "Can't hardly imagine why."

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said with a sigh before turning back to Sasha. "The PTB brought me back to help with...whatever is going on."

Hope lit up the girl's eyes. "So I'm off the hook? I can go home?"

"Nope," Spike answered, popping the 'p'. "The powers seem to believe you have some use," he told her.

"Which is?" she asked harshly.

Spike shrugged. "Beats the shit outta me."

Buffy took in a deep breath. "How long have you been the Slayer?" she asked.

"Six months," Sasha answered and Buffy frowned. The girl couldn't be that bad if she'd survived half a year.

~BTVS~

She was rethinking her earlier thoughts as she watched Sasha flinch away from the newly risen vamp, her stake trembling in her grip. She had insisted on coming to patrol with Spike and Sasha, partly to so he wouldn't kill the girl and partly to see how badly Spike was exaggerating.

He wasn't though and she hadn't been prepared for it. Sasha fell down and barely managed to roll to the side before enemy fangs would have been at her neck. The dust that blew over her prostrate form was courtesy of Spike.

"That was…" Buffy floundered for the correct descriptor.

"Bloody pitiful," Spike helpfully provided. Well, yes, Buffy thought with a frown. Sasha picked herself up and shot the vampire a glare.

"How long before you were miss perfect 'put me on a pedestal' slayer?" Sasha demanded, turning her glare on the older Slayer when she failed to correct Spike.

Spike chortled. "The Slayer there put two master vamps down before the end of her first year," he told her, a thread of pride woven in his tone. He turned his attention back to Buffy. "Problem with the bitty Slayer is she's all bark and no bite. Trains well enough and talks a helluva game and then quakes in her combat boots when it's time to put her money where her mouth is."

"Where is her watcher?" Buffy asked.

"Probably sitting on his stuffy chair reading some boring old tome," Spike replied. "Watchers don't do much of the watching anymore. Too dangerous for most humans to be out after nightfall. That's where yours truly comes in."

"So you train the Slayers now?" she asked curiously, pieces of information garnered from the Slayers that had flitted into the afterlife started to make more sense.

He graced her with a single nod. "The ones who can be anyway," he muttered.

"A hundred and twenty years but at least I can still count on you to be an ass," She sighed, rolling her eyes as he grinned unrepentantly at her. "Lets get Sasha home and then I think it's time you fill me on all that I've missed."

~BTVS~

Spike closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, head tilted towards the ceiling as he took a deep breath. He relived it all. The loss of Buffy, the fight for Sunnydale and the world. Saving Sunnydale only to have his grandsire bring hell to earth by pissing off the wrong people.

The loss of Faith, stalwart and true when it counted. She'd gone out with a laugh and a lunge and she'd brought that damn dragon down with her.

Faith

Three Years After Buffy's Sacrifice

"Spike!" Xander yelled over the roar of the battle. Spike's head snapped over in his direction in time to see the younger man swallowed up in the horde. The vampire focused his senses on Harris as he cut a swath through the demons, he could hear the rapid heartbeat, the grunts of exertion and of pain. He moved quicker.

He reached Xander just as he was about to lose the fight against a demon nearly double his size. "Mind if I cut in?" Spike asked pleasantly, redirecting the demon's attentions to him as he lunged forward with a feral grin and a solid blow with his sword.

"Be my guest," he heard the boy wheeze from his position on the ground. A few minutes and several bruises later the demon thundered to the ground. Xander had managed to pick himself back up and jump back into the fray. High above them Angel's dragon spewed molten flame, Spike could feel the heat crackle at his skin.

"Faith could use your help," Willow's voice sounded throughout his skull.

"Lead the way, Red," he answered, creating himself a path as he followed the witches' directions to the Slayer.

"'Bout time you showed up," Faith called out breathlessly as he took his place, his back to hers. Together the two of them danced to a beautiful death-filled tune. A cacophony of screams split the air, their agony rising over the blaring battle. The Slayer and vampire looked over in time to see Willow's coven go up in flame.

"Dawn!" Spike shouted frantically at the same time Faith yelled for Willow. There was no mental reply from the redhead. Spike was already starting towards the last place he'd left his nibblet, over where the damn witches were supposed to keep her safe, when Faith grabbed him by the arm.

He whirled on her, eyes spitting fire. Her face was grim. "We gotta get that dragon before he attacks them again," she told him, pointing up to where it was circling back around. He wanted to shove her away and tell her to piss off but he knew she was right. If Dawn survived the first attack she wouldn't the second.

"Shoulda known we couldn't count on Angel to slay the sodding dragon," he grunted in agreement.

"Luckily you got me," Faith preened before letting him in on her little plan.

Spike shook his head. "That's suicide Slayer," he told her.

She grinned wildly. "Just get me up there and clear everyone out that you can," She ordered, wearing her role well. Something she had only just begun to be able to do, just now barely crawling out of Buffy's shadow.

"Let's go then, luv," he agreed bleakly, running towards a nearby fire escape. They scaled it quickly, managing to get in place a few moments before the dragon would be diving their direction. "You sure about this?" he asked grimly.

"Well...there is one thing I'd like to do first," she admitted.

Spike tilted his head at her curiously. "What's that?" he questioned.

She grinned wickedly before stepping closer to him, her hand flew to the back of his head and she pulled his face down to hers. Her lips were soft and sure as they met his. She kissed as brutally as she fought as she nipped at his lips before demanding entrance. The hand that wasn't holding his sword dropped to her waist and pulled her even closer as he kissed her back just as fiercely.

She was breathless when she broke away. "Damn," she panted. "Why'd we wait so long to do that?" He didn't have a chance to reply before her eyes narrowed in determination, he turned and saw the dragon rapidly approaching. "Do me a favor will you?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the incoming threat.

"Name it," he replied just as distractedly.

"When you get home tonight, rub one out for me," she said. His eyes flew to hers in surprise, she was wearing wolfish grin, and he couldn't help the surprised laugh that rumbled through him. She laughed as she grabbed him, wrapping slender fingers around his forearm. "Now!"

He flung her away from him, watching as she somersaulted through the air before landing on the dragon. It lurched and spun midair to try and buck her off. He heard her deep laugh as he forced his eyes off of her and leapt back down the fire escape. He found Xander first, grabbing him and forcing him to run.

Angel was next, "You're not gonna stick around for the next bit, Peaches," he yelled out as he and Xander ran past him.

He felt the heat at his back, heard the roar and screeches from the demons in their wake. They reached what remained of the coven. The surviving members, Tara included, were resurrecting shields to keep them safe. Dawn ran to him and flung her long arms around his neck. Willow was unconscious but he could hear a strong heartbeat and knew she'd be okay.

He didn't want to but he owed it to her, so he turned to watch. In it's attempt to get her off it's back the dragon was raining fire down on the alley, burning many of it's cohorts to a crisp. He watched as Faith slipped down until she was at the beast's belly. Watched as she thrust her blade into it and yanked it down, spilling it open.

He tucked Dawn's head into his chest as the dragon let out an agonized shriek before letting loose one final stream of red hot flame. His too sensitive ears heard the scream, the laugh. That laugh. Then nothing.

A new Slayer would be born that night.

He felt numb. He and Faith...they had understood each other. He didn't love her, not like he'd loved Buffy. He would miss her, she took a small piece of him with her.

The dragon fell dead and Spike tuned out as he left the coven to do the clean up.

"We set up on the front lines in LA, did what we could to contain it. Angel lost just about all his crew in that fight. We lost Faith and a few others that had joined the ranks in the years following your death. She did good, Faith." he told her, keeping his eyes closed as the images played out behind their lids. "Managed to beat them back, enough of 'em anyway," he sighed.

"And...that has to do with why the Powers brought me back?" Buffy asked in confusion. "In heaven...well I got to see everyone once they'd died. Xan and Wills. Tara, Anya and Dawnie. They told me a bit about what had happened in their lives."

Spike's eyes opened at that. "How's the bit?" he croaked out.

Buffy smiled sadly. "Worried about you," she replied honestly.

Spike harrumphed and waved a hand dismissively. "Did they tell you that what happened in LA made waves throughout the world, then?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"We saved the west coast, lost most of LA in the process. The world as a whole is still intact but the demons that escaped during that time…" he shook his head and rolled his eyes. "They scattered throughout the globe, bred and spawned. They own the nights now, everywhere. There's hardly a city on any of the continents that have a booming human nightlife. Dusk hits and all the little kiddies are curled up in their warm little houses."

Xander

Twenty Eight Years After Buffy's Sacrifice

Three decades ago he wouldn't have believed it, that he'd feel the cold grip of grief as his little group of humans slowly dwindled down. He especially wouldn't have expected to feel grief for the boy. It was dangerous for humans to be out after dark, more so even than it had been on the Hellmouth.

Duty called though and so they answered. Willow, Tara, Xander (Anyanka away, lending her expertise elsewhere), Spike, Dawn, Jasper and Kira, the Vampire Slayer.. Wolfram and Hart were finding the weak spots and piercing through, attempting to reshape reality as they knew it.

For over two decades he'd been training the Slayers, picking up where their watchers left off. Giving them the hands on training no human could ever provide. For over a century he had touted his title as the Slayer of Slayers but it was now- now that he'd been reformed for thirty years- that he truly earned that title. In a quarter of the time he had led far more Slayers to their deaths than he ever had when it was his main goal in life.

He took a deep shuddering breath as he turned away from his Slayer's broken body and forced himself to join the weeping circle surrounding Xander. The smell of blood was thick in the air and it made his fangs itch. So he stopped breathing.

The usually strong thump of the man's heart was weak and sporadic. Dawn was holding shaking hands to his abdomen, red stained hands attempting to keep his insides from becoming outsides and failing. Willow was desperately murmuring healing incantations but keeping the fabric of reality intact had depleted her power stores and nothing was happening.

Spike's gaze slid to Tara, sorrow laced and steadfast. She knew what he knew. It was too late.

Xander let out a grunt and Spike looked over to find him staring right at him, his eyes hazy but determined as the last of his strength faded. "Take care of our girls, 'k," he managed to grunt out through pain clenched teeth.

Spike nodded. "You got it, mate," he assured the other man.

Xander nodded once before cracking a smile and a joke and letting his eyes fall closed. Dawn and Willow's loud sobs filled the silence left by Xander's heart. Jasper gathered Dawn up in his arms while Tara did the same with Willow. Spike stood in the center of the two couples, tears burning at the back of his eyes.

"So everyone is aware of what goes bump in the night?" Buffy asked in surprise.

He shrugged, eyes distant with memories. "Anyone with half a brain cell, yeah."

"I'm guessing the Powers didn't bring me back to put the cat back in the bag?"

Spike sniggered. "Too late for that, luv. No, they brought you back because the evil that Angel pissed off, the Senior Partners, they've been licking their wounds for long enough and are staging their grand re-entrance."

Willow

Thirty Two Years After Buffy's Sacrifice

If Spike weren't dead then his heart would be pounding wildly at the sight in front of him. Memories flashed through his mind. Horrible nightmarish memories that he'd soon forget. Images of a bluish rip in the universe. Memories of the woman he'd loved jumping into it, sacrificing herself for her sister. For the world. So that people far less deserving than her would continue living. People like him.

This wasn't quite that. It wasn't blue so much as an opaque shimmer and through it he could almost swear that he saw glimpses of a different life. Familiar faces with unfamiliar expressions. Just a flash here and a flash there.

"It's ripping!" he heard Willow call out, her voice blasting through their heads. "They're going to get through!"

There they were, creatures he'd never seen before streaming in. He was taken back to that alley in Los Angeles, the one that began all of this. The one that had seen the Senior Partners retreating with their tales tucked between their bloody legs as the demons they'd let loose scattered throughout the world.

The one they'd only kind of won as California now had a crater the size of LA (mostly because the crater is LA). Saved the world but lost the higher ground in the process.

"Time to get to work, Min!" he called out to the Korean Slayer as he ran into battle. As the world grew darker and more dangerous more and more humans had sighed up to join the fight. Demons living in the shadows was long a thing of the past. Now the human news cycled out stories of monster sightings and curfew warnings.

Wars beyond petty land grabs in less developed countries had largely ceased as the continents joined forces to fight back. Soft spots in their dimension popped up everywhere. Min had been the Slayer for a meager three months, called just before they landed in Korea to investigate the latest large disturbance.

Three months wasn't enough time for a battle like the once they now faced. She was a brave girl though, wholly worthy of her calling. Determined and fierce, she reminded him a bit of Xin Rong. Only she had him as a teacher so she fought dirtier.

They were covered in blood and guts and viscous fluids he didn't even want to name but they were still alive as a wave of power blew through them and he glanced towards the portal in time to see it start stitching itself back together as though it really were nothing more than a torn seam. "Atta girl, Red," he murmured as he thrust his blade into his next opponent.

"Willow!" He heard Tara scream and he turned towards her call just in time to see the redhead's eyes roll back, blood streamed from her nose and her mouth. The red coated business end of a sword stuck out through her chest. She was dead before she hit the ground.

Tara

That Same Night

The gentle witch, who'd always been Spike's favorite after Dawn, crashed to her knees next to her wife. Choked sobs wrenched from her gut and white power built up around her just before Spike lost sight of her, cut off by another fugly demon.

He cut it down and risked a glace over at the rip in their dimension, it was pulsing and the stitches seemed to be unraveling. "Fuck," he cursed. They hadn't been at full power even before Willow had been cut down.

"Get ready Min," he ordered through the chaos.

He heard her heart rate pick up. "I ready," she told him with nary a tremble in her tone. He doubted that- he doubted that even he was ready- but he appreciated her resolve.

He wasn't sure how long it took, hours or days- it felt like days- but eventually it was just he and Min still standing amongst the strewn demonic corpses. He looked over at the shimmering portal only to find it winking out of existence, leaving the air clear and unmarred.

Icy tendrils of dread gripped him as he realized he only heard one heartbeat and slowly- so, so slowly- he turned towards the last place he'd seen the wiccans. He heard Min's sharp intake of breath as he limped over to them.

A tear did fall then, as he kneeled next to Tara's still body. He could feel the magic still pulsing through her. Too much magic, the kind that killed the user. The kind that had saved the world. One of her hands were loosely laced with Willow's.

"I am sorry," he heard Min whisper from a few feet away.

"Me too," he managed.

He left the demon corpses, it's nothing the locals hadn't seen before, but he gathered the witches and placed them in his car. They would get a proper burial, near Xander. He'd have to call Rupert and Dawn too. Though with such a powerful force leaving the world the coven may have already alerted them.

No sooner had that thought slid through his brain his mobile chimed, he glanced at the display and swallowed hard before answering.

"Hey Bit," he said roughly.

Spike shook himself out of the memory as Buffy started speaking again. "The guys a whole team of you barely beat last time?" she asked doubtfully.

"That's them. We've always known it was only a matter of time, though. The last hundred and twenty years has seen the previous generation preparing the next one for the threat. We have witches 'round the globe ready with fire power. Demons who just want to live a simple life ready to join the front lines. Council of wankers has expended a lot of resources in training humans and demons alike for battle. And then, of course, the Powers themselves have intervened."

Buffy nodded slowly. "That's why you've been training the Slayers?" she asked.

Spike nodded. "Rupes arranged it a long time ago, once he became the head of the council. Pretty sure our friendly neighborhood higher power put him up to it though," he muttered. "Watchers were dying faster than they could train up their charges. Needed someone stronger and meaner to keep 'em alive," he sighed. "Or try to."

Rupert

Forty Three Years After Buffy's Sacrifice

Dawn calling him with tears in her voice was unfortunately not an uncommon occurrence. He hadn't been around for Anyanka's death- they'd had to split their forces and she'd gotten the short end of that stick. Nor had he been there when Dawn's husband, Jasper, had been killed while trying to save a woman from a demon during an increasingly common daytime attack.

She'd called him crying immediately after both events. Just like she had when word quickly reached her of Willow and Tara's deaths a decade earlier. He dreaded who it'd be this time.

"It's Giles," she sniffled. "I found him this morning when I went to meet him to go over his notes," she told him.

"Was it…" he trailed off.

"In his sleep," she told him.

"Lucky bastard," he muttered and she let out a broken giggle.

"Shut up, Spike," she said without any heat. "Will you come visit me?"

"Be there in a couple days, luv," he assured her quietly before hanging up. He sighed heavily and allowed his head to fall back down against his pillows. It was increasingly harder to see Dawn, he'd hardly seen her outside of funerals the last few years. She was still beautiful, of course, she had her mother's genes after all, but she was closer to sixty than not.

He was proud that she'd lived as long as she had in the world as it was with their jobs being what they were but every line was a reminder that she wouldn't live forever. She'd already outlived the original scooby gang by nearly a decade.

He sighed again and called the council to arrange transportation on their private jet. He'd need to be there for the funeral anyway.

"What was Angel doing during all this?" Buffy asked with a frown, bringing him back to the present.

Spike scoffed. "Oh he was fighting, but he's never been much of a team player. Think he was too ashamed that he'd gotten us all into this mess. Ended up being his downfall."

Angel

Forty Five Years After Buffy's Sacrifice

The mug of blood shattered in his hand, sharp pieces of glass embedding into his skin as the sticky red substance dripped slowly down his hand. He lurched forward, his uninjured hand coming up to catch himself against the kitchen counter as he drew in a ragged breath.

"Spike?" Dawn called out in concern as she turned the corner to check on him. He barely noticed as she grabbed his hand and started picking the glass out of it. Didn't hear what she said. He just felt empty, like a limb was missing.

He wasn't positive who it was until he felt Drusilla's despair across their nearly forgotten link. He could feel her reaching out towards him, towards his familiar signature. Reaching out for the only person left who felt what she felt.

The hollow pit grew within him. Abstractly, he was somewhat intrigued by his own reaction. He and Angel had never been what you'd call close, not since he was young and Angel was Angelus anyway. He was the only other vamp that knew what it was like to live with a soul though. He was family.

Now he was gone.

Warm hands clutched his cheeks and his eyes focused on Dawn's worry lined face. Some sixtieth birthday celebration this was turning out to be. "What is it?" she asked.

"Angel," he told her. "Felt him die." He sounded hollow even to his own ears. She drew back, eyes searching for something she didn't seem to find judging by her deepening frown. Then she drew him into a hug but he stood too numb to return it.

Spike sighed and frowned. "Any way, he never would have been a good candidate to train the Slayers," he told her, a bitter edge to his tone.

Buffy shook her head. "I wasn't suggesting he would have been," she told him softly before moving on. "So Sasha..."

Spike snorted. "Not our prophecy girl, after all. Thank the bloody heavens for that small mercy. Watchers found reference to the Slayer being called roundabouts this time in a prophecy so when Sash was called they put all their eggs in her basket." His stormy blue eyes met hers. "Thinkin' it was talking about you, pet."

"Sing me a knew one," she replied with a faint smile.

Spike hesitated, he had a question, just one really, that had been burning at him. "You said that you saw your friends and Dawn again after they'd died-"

"Our friends," she corrected pointedly. "Yes."

"How did they...appear to you?" he wondered.

"Mostly the same as they were back in Sunnydale. Dawnie looked a bit older though, maybe early twenties. I've got this theory that when you get to heaven you kind of project the manifestation of yourself when you were in your prime. Giles definitely did not look ninety," she told him with a little giggle.

Dawn

Forty Seven Years After Buffy's Sacrifice

"No," Spike said harshly as the world fell apart around them for the millionth time in the last fifty years. "Not gonna happen."

"Do you have another idea?" Dawn demanded with a raised brow- it was a look she'd learned from him.

"We do what we always do."

"What? Hope for the best and watch our friends die?" she asked drolly.

"Better them than you Bit," he growled.

Dawn reached out and caught his hand in hers. Her blue eyes, made milkier with age burned through him. "You kept your promise, Spike. For nearly fifty years you've kept your promise to her," she told him softly. "What we need right now is a hail Mary and I'm the only one who can provide it."

"Bullshit," he grunted through gritted teeth.

She smiled. "I do you love you, you know," she told him.

"Love you too, Bit. 'S why I can't let you do this," he told her.

"I hope you find love again one day, love like you had for my sister. You deserve it, Spike," she said sagely.

"Dawn," he grit out.

Her smile widened. "Spike," she replied, amused. She closed her eyes and when she opened them they were glowing with a power he had always felt in her but never seen manifested.

He moved to grab her but she pulled her hand away and he hit some invisible force. "Goddamnit Dawn, do not do this," he ordered.

"I've lived a long life. Thanks to you," she told him as power began to spark out from her entire being.

"Buffy would want you to live longer! Grow older, die in your sleep," he yelled out, desperate.

She smiled sadly, looking him in the eyes one last time. Memorizing him just as he did her. Only when he saw her he saw her as she once was. Long, shining brown hair and a mischievous smile that hid her sad eyes. Eyes that had for decades shown of her deep love for him. A love he didn't deserve. "Buffy gave me an extra forty seven years and now I can use the same power that she died for to save the world and the people in it that I love," she told him. "To save you."

"I'll just meet the sun in the morning," he threatened.

"You won't," she told him firmly. "You promised me once. That you'd live for me."

His eyes narrowed. "Yeah well, you once promised the same."

"You'd give your life for mine," she pointed out. "And I'd give mine for yours. So don't waste it," she demanded as the glow coming off of her lit the night around them.

She opened her mouth in a silent scream and Spike watched in horror, incapable of moving towards her, as the inter-dimensional tear was repaired and the demonic elements that had broken free of it were sucked back in or killed in the wake of her power.

When she dropped to the ground so did the barrier separating him from her and he dropped to her side. Her pulse was thready and weak, her breathing stuttered. Her eyes didn't open even as she whispered the last words he'd ever hear her say.

"I do wish I could have stayed longer though."

"She used her keyness, she tell you that?" he asked Buffy quietly.

"She mentioned it, yeah," she whispered back and the pain in her voice told him that Dawn might have told her more than just that.

"Stabilized the walls of our dimension, she did. For over seventy years we only had small instances of dimensional rifts. Easily managed...relatively speaking."

"But now they're getting worse," she commented. It wasn't a question, they both knew she wouldn't be there if they weren't.

"You should get some sleep," he told her after a long moment of silence. "There'll be plenty more time to worry about the evils in the world tomorrow."

He heard her quiet murmur of agreement and felt her eyes on him until he'd closed the door between them. He sighed heavily and leaned back against the door, eyes closed and fists clenched. Moving on from losing her had been the hardest thing he'd ever done in his nearly three hundred years of existence.

He'd never again loved like he had back in Sunnydale. He took lovers, of course. Women that were more beautiful than Buffy. Women that were more intelligent or worldly than Buffy. He'd found his way back into Drusilla's arms a time or two over the decades. He'd given into the advances of a Slayer that had fallen in love with him, had loved her as best he could during her too short tenure as the chosen one.

None had that spark that Buffy did. That fire that both drew him in and pissed him off. He found that he could live without her though, that she wasn't the center of his world after all. He'd lived and laughed and loved with as much of himself as he was willing to give, pieces but never the whole of him. Not anymore. Not even to his Dawn.

Dawn, who had loved him better than anyone ever had. Who had loved him even as he broke her heart. She had never made a secret of it, his bit. She was a bit too much like him in that way. Maybe if she'd been older when they'd met, if the long shadow her sister cast hadn't darkened their every interaction, maybe he could have loved her back the way she loved him. All the way to the end.

Dawn's death had marked the end of Sunnydale Spike. No one knew him as he had been, knew how he'd grown and changed. How thoroughly the Summer's women had marked him up. Not even Cordelia. These days the legend of the Slayer of Slayers was practically folklore. He'd morphed into a solitary creature who exchanged little more than cutting remarks and harsh training.

Women still loved him because now he was mysterious and dark but still toed the line of good and they wanted to be the one to 'fix' him. He wasn't sure how to keep hold of the jagged edges that remained of him now that Buffy was back. Now that she was here in his flat and didn't look at him like he was a bug beneath her boot.

No, she looked at him with respect and curiosity. She'd said that she got to see her friends and sister up in heaven. He couldn't help but wonder just how much they'd told her about him. About who he'd become once she was gone. He wondered just how much he'd changed since last they'd seen him, now that he was just a shell of that man. He wondered how long it would be before he disappointed her. He heaved another heavy sigh before allowing himself to collapse onto his bed, a bottle of whiskey quickly made it's way into his hand to chase away his unwanted thoughts.

~BTVS~

The weeks passed in a blur, meetings with the Watcher's Council. It was a shock to the system, not just living again or having a purpose again but cataloging the changes. Of which there had been many. The Council, for example. Once made up of a stuffy Brits- who didn't seem to realize there was any fabric other than tweed- was now flush with young, leather clad watchers who reminded her more than a little of Spike back in the day. Insolent and demanding but smart and world weary.

Their sprawling compound housed refugees, humans and demons alike. Those who had fled the forces streaming in through the tears in their reality and were determined and ready to join forces to fight back. The watchers weren't much use for their Slayer in this new world but they had the skill to train an army. Some of them looked at her in awe, a past relic come back to them. Others impassively and without much hope of her success. The more she saw, the less she blamed them.

She and Spike were frequently teleported to this county or that. Rushing in to repair or contain another breach to their world. It was exhausting and she'd only been doing it for a matter of weeks. She wasn't sure how Spike had kept his determination up throughout the many decades he'd been fighting. She told herself that she just needed to condition her body, it had been long out of commission, after all.

She took over training Sasha and Spike was all too happy to hand the reins over to her. When she'd announced her plans to mentor the girl it was the closest she'd seen to a genuine smile playing on his lips. A flash gone too quick and replaced with amusement and skepticism. "Best of luck, Slayer," he'd chortled before disappearing out into the night and leaving her with the younger Slayer.

It was slow going but she felt as though the girl was making progress. Heaven had made her patient, the lack of necessity cooling down her quick temper and anxious disposition. Spike had never been the poster child for patience and Sasha's inherent timidity in the face of a physical battle would have grated on him especially fast. Spike had never suffered the weak, he was drawn to strength and courage. Sasha never stood a chance with him.

"It was a fluke, you know," Sasha told her one night. She had successfully slayed a vampire without needing Buffy's interference.

"What was?" Buffy asked.

"Me being chosen," the girl answered lowly. "My mother was a Slayer. I remember her training with Spike when I was really little. She was fierce and courageous, the opposite of me. I took after my weak willed father," she said scornfully, eyes lost in memory. "I think she had loved him, Spike. I think a lot of Slayers did. There's something about him that draws you in, even when he's being a cruel bastard."

Buffy couldn't argue with her, she'd felt that pull as long as she'd known him. Sasha started speaking again. "I remember when she died, my mother. I was seven. She'd lived a long life for a Slayer. Her strength and Spike had allowed for it. The Senior Partners had opened up another weak spot so we were in South Africa and they were trying to fight them off," she was lost in her memories.

"I shouldn't have been there but the Council had been recently attacked and my mother didn't feel right leaving me there while all the warriors were gone away so I went with them. It got out of control too fast. I remember her jumping after a demon to save one of the witches. I remember watching it rip her apart and Spike's roar as he ripped her killer apart.

I don't really remember how it ended, just staring at my mother's broken body and her glassy eyes. Then Spike was there and it was the closest I've ever seen him to looking sad. He was torn up and bloody and I remember hating him for surviving while my mother didn't. He took me away from there, back to the council and they raised me after that," she finished her story.

Buffy felt sick. She remembered how she'd felt finding her mother's body as an adult. She couldn't imagine watching her get gutted as a small child. "So how was it a fluke that you were chosen? Sounds like it runs in the family."

Sasha shook her head. "A different Slayer was chosen just days before me, she was brave and strong and ready. She was killed in a random human shooting, stray bullet through the wall of her flat. She died and I was up to bat. I was the only one of age, see? The one chosen is always near where the next biggest threat is. The oldest potential in the area after me is like ten."

Buffy mulled over her words for a long moment before replying. "You wouldn't have been a potential if there wasn't a spark in you," she finally said. "I was a cheerleader when I was chosen. My biggest worries were clothes and boys, not necessarily in that order," she said with a grin.

"We've heard the stories about you," Sasha said with a raised brow. "You saved the world several times, died twice and the second time was taking out a hell god. I've been the Slayer for half a year and I've only taken out a couple vamps without help. I see them, any demon, and I see the one that killed my mother. I just freeze up. I don't blame Spike for thinking I'm useless...he's right."

Buffy hesitated. "I never got to Spike as well as I now wish I would have back before I died," she admitted. "But I know enough about him then and now to know that he wouldn't have kept you alive this long if he didn't care. Even if he's the world's biggest ass to your face," she told her, confident in her words.

"He saves me because his friend Cordelia told him he has to," the younger girl said with a roll of her eyes.

Buffy snorted. "Spike's never been one to take orders. If he didn't want you living then you wouldn't be. I imagine he's hard on you because it's his way of trying to toughen you up, maybe he doesn't go about it in the right way but...he's a vampire and an impatient one at that. He's never exactly been a soft hand," she said with a slight laugh.

"You love him," Sasha said bluntly after studying her for an uncomfortable moment and Buffy started in surprise. Sasha smiled at the wide eyed Slayer. "It's okay, like I said, I'm pretty sure my mother did too. And at least half the women at the Council...and a few of the men too," she said with a wink.

"No," Buffy sputtered through a half laugh. "No, I don't love him. I mean, I barely even know him anymore. I've only been back for a couple months and he's...different now."

Sasha shook her head and turned to start walking back towards her apartment. "I met this witch when I was first called, she's older than dirt...although I guess not older than Spike. Anyway, she knew him back when he had his original team. I think they were your friends too," she paused for a moment. Buffy nodded and she continued. "He lit up when he saw her, never seen him smile like I did that day. She caught me before she left and told me not to let him get away with being a dick. She told me that he just lost himself when he lost the people he'd loved. She told me he was a good man, though, and that as long as I was the Slayer he'd have my back."

"Sounds about right," Buffy said softly.

"She died a few weeks later and he grew colder than I've ever known him to be," the girl added. "I think they were together when it happened. Patching another hole. I think...I think he has good reason to be different now."

Buffy felt that familiar sinking pit in her stomach as they came to a stop at Sasha's apartment which was just down the street from Spike's. "I'm sure your right, doesn't mean that I love him though," Buffy said with a faint smile.

Sasha laughed. "I think he's an asshole and sometimes- well, most of the time actually- I want to kill him, but he's kept me alive and I'm grateful for that...even if I don't act like it."

"Maybe you should tell him that," Buffy suggested.

"Nah, we have our own unique relationship. He's mean to me and I'm mean to him. I'd hate for him to keel over if that were to suddenly change," she joked as she unlocked her door and swung it open.

"You're wrong, you know," Buffy called out as she stepped back down the stairs.

"About what?"

"You're not weak. You need to get over your fear, yes, but you aren't weak Sasha. Have a good night, I'll see you tomorrow," she said with a smile as she turned and left the stunned Slayer behind.

It was a short walk to Spike's apartment but she kind of wished it were longer as she lost herself to her thoughts. Replaying Sasha's story and observations.

She'd never taken the time to get know the real Spike back in Sunnydale. She knew the demon, knew his wicked tongue and dangerous intuition. She'd only just begun to get to know the man beneath the demon towards the end. The man who would have died for her and her sister. Who loved deeply if not wisely. She'd never gotten the chance to appreciate that he chose to love her.

She'd been wrong, back during her first chance at life, to think that what he felt was nothing more than a sick obsession. Sometimes she thinks she should have known better, even then. She'd seen how he'd given up everything for Drusilla, how he'd made alliances with his enemies to try to salvage his relationship with her. It had just been too much for her to accept that Spike could love her so strongly and so suddenly while Angel couldn't.

He'd proven it, proven it every day for over a century. Proven it even when there was no one left alive to prove it to.

She worried though, as she watched him over the weeks, that he'd lost too much to ever be whole again. She watched him in his apartment when he limited their time together to research before retiring to his room and locking himself in there until it was time to wake up and start again. She noticed how distant he was with everyone. The watchers, his Slayer, Cordelia even. How distant he kept himself from her. She wondered if he had nothing left to give. Nothing but the fight and, one day, his death.

She understood, now, why Dawn worried after him. Her sister had watched it all unfold, every piece he lost as those he'd considered family for decades were slowly cut down. Dying to save the world, a world he would have to live in far longer than they. Dawn would have known, of course, that her death would be the final nail in the coffin for him. For who he'd once been. Who'd he grown to be. What was left was a shell of the man Buffy had once almost known. Something that Sasha's words tonight had only confirmed.

Did she love him? She didn't think so, not really. She'd always been interested in hearing the stories her friends had of him when they'd appeared in Heaven, sure. She'd had...feelings for him just before her death back in Sunnydale, she could admit that now. It wasn't love though, it was kinship.

He didn't love her anymore either, she knew. Maybe he would if he still thought he could.

~BTVS~

It was ramping up, she could feel it. The air felt heavier, no matter where they went. They were being run ragged as new fractures in their dimension were opened up. She understood how her friends had all been lost to this foe.

She and Spike slumped down onto his leather couch, not bothering to clean up first. They were drenched in sweat (well she was, anyway), blood and other things that she'd rather not think about. "Not long now," Spike muttered from his position next to her.

"No, doesn't seem like it," she replied tiredly. "Kinda just want it done with," she added.

"What happens to you? When it's done?" he asked, it was more interest than he had shown in months now.

Buffy shrugged. "If I survive then I continue living until I die, I guess," she said.

"So you don't go back?"

"Not right away, no. That's what Cordelia told me anyway."

"Why did you agree to come back?" he asked finally, and from his tone she knew it was something he'd been wondering since the moment she had appeared before him.

"I was needed," she told him simply. "I was asked and...I'd watched all the people I loved die to save the world from the same thing they were asking me to fight against. I wanted to make it mean something, their deaths."

Spike nodded slowly, churning her words over in his mind. Finally, he stood up and walked towards his room. Before he went in he paused. "Thank you," he murmured so softly she almost didn't hear him.

Buffy stood up quickly. "Spike," she said, too loud and too quick.

He turned towards her, watching warily as she took another step towards him. Then another, until she was toe to toe with him. "Yes, Slayer?" he asked coolly.

She didn't answer him though, instead rising up on her tip toes and brushing her lips against his in a kiss reminiscent of the one she'd given him after he'd been tortured by Glory. When the kiss ended he didn't look at her with awe though, it was more distant and...sad, maybe.

"Buffy," he said softly, shaking his head as words failed him.

"I know," she said, and she did know. He didn't love her anymore, he couldn't love her anymore and she understood why, to the best of her ability. "You don't have to love me to let me love you," she followed up in a whisper. Surprise flashed through his eyes.

Sasha had ended up being right. Not back when she'd originally said that Buffy was in love with him, no. It hadn't become that yet. But in the months since then, as she'd watched Spike. Harsh, yes, but determined and selfless in battle. She'd watched him save countless lives, fight to save their comrades, the world. In those moments she sometimes saw that spark in him that was so completely Spike.

When the butterflies had started flapping in his presence she wasn't too surprised. She'd always been attracted to strength, and he had that in spades. He had loved her once, sacrificed who he was because he loved her, even though she hadn't loved him back. Now, it was her turn.

She pushed him gently backwards, allowing him time to move away from her if that's what he wanted. He submitted himself to her though, just watched her thoughtfully as she disrobed them both before pressing him down onto the his bed and worshiping the length of him.

~BTVS~

Spike laid still, staring up at the ceiling lost in thought as the warm body of the woman that had once been the love of his life was wrapped around him. It had been a good night, the best one he'd had in a long, long time. A night that he'd once dreamed of, would have given just about anything for.

Buffy whispering words of love as she did things to his body and with her body that would have had him falling for her even if he hadn't already been lost to her. He wished that he felt that now, that the night had been more than 'good', that it had been a bloody revelation.

It should have been. Were he still whole then it would have been. Guilt clawed at him as he realized- with a finality that he hadn't really considered before- that he would never again truly love. He had been broken by the ages and he knew now what it meant to lose time and time again. Buffy was here now, and if she survived the upcoming battle perhaps she'd be here a little longer.

Years, maybe. Decades. Then one day she'd die again and he'd be left picking up the shattered pieces of himself again.

Her arm tightened around his slender waist and she murmured into his skin. "Stop thinking so loud. Just be," she told him. "I know."

He thought that maybe she really did.

~BTVS~

"Not half bad," Spike drawled as he stepped out of the shadows. Sasha started but Buffy had sensed him the moment he'd arrived. His signature calling to her louder than it ever had over the last weeks, ever since they'd started sleeping together.

"How long have you been there?" Sasha asked.

"Long enough to see you take out those two ugly blighters," he replied as he lit up a cigarette. "Didn't even catch a quiver."

Sasha grinned. "Fake it 'til you make it," she quoted her new motto.

Spike snorted. "That's the spirit, pet," he approved. "Good job Slayer," he said, this time directing his praise towards Buffy. She wasn't surprised to feel a warm rush of pleasure at the compliment. He didn't love her, she didn't think he ever could, but he'd been a bit softer towards her.

"She just needed to work past some...things," Buffy told him quietly.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I know." Louder he said. "Ready for some real action, Sash?"

Determination gleamed in the young warrior's eyes and Buffy felt another rush of pleasure at the change in the girl. A change that she had affected. "Like the big stuff?" she asked.

"The very same," he nodded.

Sasha's expression grew grim. "Is it time?" she asked.

Spike's expression matched hers. "It is," he confirmed. "We're meeting the coven at Council headquarters," he told them.

~BTVS~

Buffy's heart sank as she took in the carnage. Eyes wide as she looked up at the giant tear in their world. It was the biggest one she'd ever seen and through it she saw glimpses of other worlds. Other versions of what was or had been or could be. It kaleidoscoped around them. Other lands so familiar yet so different.

"Oh my god," Sasha breathed out. Buffy knew that she had never been so close to the action, not since she was seven and watching her mother get torn apart. "What is it"

"The very fabric of our universe," Spike replied grimly. "Rent apart."

"I see...me," Sasha gasped out, eyes wide as she peered through the tear.

"In order to bust into our dimension the Senior partners had to destroy them all, so many different versions of our lives torn apart and fighting just like we are," Buffy elaborated, thinking back on how the watcher's had explained it to her. "Right?" she asked with a frown, looking towards Spike.

"Right," he agreed. "Time to move, ladies," he told them, bringing his sword up and stepping forward. "Sasha, you're with the watchers and their army," he told her, pointing off to the left. "A strong showing by the Slayer will rally the troops."

Sasha nodded and took one last look at the pair of them. "Good luck," she said breathlessly.

"I expect you to survive this," Spike said blandly, but there was a bit of a fire in his eyes. Sasha just grinned in reply before running to join the human/demon army.

"Alright, pet. We're with the coven. We keep them alive or this whole thing is pointless," he told her, taking off at a run towards the witches.

"I know," she assured him as she matched his pace. She watched as power sparked from their coven, mingling in the atmosphere with the magic from their sister dimensions. She saw, in one of the rifts, a version of herself. Determined and calm as she stood hand in hand with another Spike. In another rift, she saw Faith. Grim and standing beside Angel.

All versions of her or the Slayers standing in her place fought to defend their covens just as tirelessly as she and Spike did. Fear seized her as she heard Spike's yell, her head whipped over to see him get pounced on by a giant wolf. She turned to help him but in her way was an oversized ram with an evil gleam in it's eyes.

It's head lowered and it charged. The wind was knocked out of her as she failed to completely dodge the blow and she landed roughly on her back. She lost sight of Spike and his wolf as she put everything she had into killing her a ram. Somewhere in the distance she heard screams and she wondered if the hart had appeared as well.

Magic pulsed through the air and the ground shook, Buffy was no stranger to seismic activity and managed to keep her footing while the ram stumbled a bit. She seized her opportunity and leapt at the large animal, the face of one of the Senior Partners, and thrust her blade deep into it's chest.

The ram lurched forward, it's legs wobbling as it stumbled. It fell on top of her before she was able to move away. "Ugh," she choked out as she squirmed out from beneath it. Back on her feet she took her blade and shoved it through the head, better safe than sorry, she figured.

She panted as she glanced around, looking for Spike. She saw his wolf, lying limp in the distance. She looked towards the rifts and saw the magic working to repair them. The other dimensions were becoming less visible but she saw the bodies of the counterparts of the wolf, the ram and the hart as the rifts were slowly repaired. It was working, they were winning.

In her reality the hart was several yards away and about to gore Sasha. Buffy knew she wouldn't get to the younger Slayer in time but it didn't stop her from trying. The chanting of the witches grew louder, as they fought to eradicate every trace of the Senior partners and the damage they wrought.

Her heart was pounding in her throat as her legs pumped as hard as they could to reach her protégé. She stumbled, an agonized cry wrenched from her when she was too late.

Sasha lay slumped on the ground, wide eyed and gaping. Blood blossomed on her head from where she'd hit the ground and there, where she had just been standing, was Spike. His sword run through the eye of the beast and his chest run through by the antler of the hart. An antler made of wood rather than bone, a defense mechanism.

His eye caught hers and the world froze as the emotions flitted through them. An eternity in the span of a second. Victory, guilt, regret and relief. A smile, small but real graced his face moments before the breeze carried him away.

She heard a sob, it was Sasha. Buffy didn't have time for sobs. The hart was still moving, injured but steady. "Go protect the coven," Buffy ordered dangerously. Something in her tone snapped Sasha back to reality and the Slayer rolled to her feet, wiped her eyes and ran towards the circle of witches. A section of the army she'd been fighting with followed her.

Buffy put herself in the path of the hart, sword at the ready and death in her eyes. The hart reared up on his back legs just before it came stampeding towards her. She stood with her feet shoulders width apart, knees bent. Steady. It lunged at her and she ducked, using a similar move as she had to dispatch the ram. As it flew over her she used all her strength to jab her sword through it's heart. Revenge, she thought, as it made a loud keening sound before falling to the side. It's single angry eye blinking at her as she stood above it, watching it's last breaths.

Her shoulders straightened and she sniffed back emotions she couldn't allow herself to feel yet as she turned back towards the coven and the remaining demon army Sasha and their allies were still fighting. A loud boom shook the night and she recognized it for what it was. The dying breath of the biggest bad the last century had known.

She cut down any demon that crossed her path as she reached the coven. "We need more," one of the witches called out desperately as their power flagged.

"Sasha," Buffy called out. She grabbed the Slayer's hand when she approached. "This might hurt," she warned as she pulled her closer to the wiccans.

"Everything worth it does," Sasha murmured. She risked a glance over to Buffy. "Spike taught me that."

Buffy's grip tightened but she didn't say anything. "Take it from us," Buffy told the witch who had cried out for help. "The more," she clarified as the old woman looked at her dismally.

The woman's mouth thinned into a grim line and she graced them with a single nod before grasping Buffy's hand and yelling at the witch next to her to take Sasha's.

The pain was blinding, it reminded her of when she'd jumped into Glory's portal. Electrifying. Sasha screamed out beside her but Buffy barely noticed. She allowed it to claim her, the pain. She rode it's wave rather than fighting it. Fighting only made it hurt worse. She watched the ages run through her, the beginning of her line and beyond. The many other ways her life could have played out. She felt their lives and loves lived and lost. Her kindred soul called out to theirs.

Her agony crescendoed with the powerful chants of the coven. White spots clouded her vision and then she saw nothing. Felt nothing. She was done.

~BTVS~

When she awoke she was in a familiar bed, breathing in the familiar smells and relaxing. A dream, she thought as relief flooded her.

She opened her eyes and didn't see him beside her but that wasn't cause for alarm. After all, he didn't love her. He allowed her to stay with him for her sake, not his. She rolled out of bed, sore and off balance and the first cold grip of fear shot through her. What if it wasn't a dream?

She calmed down when she heard movement in the next room. She threw the door open and looked out. Her heart broke, tears swimming in her eyes as she met the warm, sad eyes of Cordelia Chase. "He's gone then?" she asked brokenly.

Cordelia smiled sadly. "He is," she confirmed softly, something that Buffy had never really known her to be when they were kids.

"Where?" she asked. "He deserves heaven," she insisted.

Cordelia's smile faded. "He can't be admitted to heaven," she said, her own voice sounding a bit shattered at the admission.

"The hell he can't!" she yelled out. "If Angel can be in heaven and he's the one who started this whole mess then the guy who saw it through to the end can be there too."

"I wish it were that easy, Buffy. And I agree, you don't know how much I agree. We were friends, Spike and I. As much as we could be anyway. Angel had a human soul though and Spike...Spike didn't."

"He didn't need one," she insisted.

That sad smile came back. "No, he didn't."

"So make that my favor."

"What?" Cordy asked curiously.

"We did it, right? Saved the world? The Partners are dead?" she asked, realizing that she didn't really know how the show ended.

"Right."

"So you said when I agreed to do this that the PTB would owe me. Big time. This is what I want, I want Spike to be granted into heaven."

A spark entered Cordelia's eyes just before they turned up into her skull. She stood like that for what felt like an eternity and when she refocused on Buffy she knew from the angry glint in the brunette's eye that it was a no go. "They don't have the power to grant him heaven. Not without a soul."

She felt sick as her last hope burned to ashes. She felt as though the PTB had just torn a piece of her away. The largest piece yet and she had the sudden realization that she would become like Spike now. Distant and cold, continuing down the same road she'd been on when she'd died so long ago. Kindred souls. A broken, mirthless laugh broke free at the thought. Souls. Her world always seemed to revolve around them and the last months spent with Spike had finally served to convince her that they didn't matter. Not like she'd so strongly believed a century ago. They shouldn't matter but Spike would never know peace because of that one missing piece.

"And...there's something else. Something unexpected. A consequence of the witches' spell and the power that ran through you," Cordelia added reluctantly.

"What?" she said in dread.

Cordelia hesitated and Buffy knew she didn't want to tell her. "The spell that they used and the way it went through you...it changed you. Permanently. The PTB believe that you may be...immortal," she told her slowly, softly.

Buffy grew cold even as she saw red, her body tense with fury. "I'd like to be alone," she said stiffly.

"I'm sorry," Cordelia whispered as she disappeared.

Buffy slumped down to the floor and allowed the tears to flow.

~BTVS~

It took awhile for them to realize the far reaching effects of their final battle with the Senior Partners. Like ripples through a pond the consequences appeared slowly and without solid form. It came first from dimension hoppers, like vengeance demons. That the universe outside of theirs had begun to collapse.

They had repaired the rifts in their world but not all of the others had been so lucky. They learned then, as well, that the dimensions supported each other. Like a house of cards, she was told, one falls and the rest destabilize and eventually follow.

So it was then- as she listened to the watcher's prattle on about how they were all living on borrowed time and no one seemed to have any ideas on how to fix it or if it were fixable- that she had an epiphany.

"Can it be done?" she asked Cordelia. She hadn't seen the other woman since she had kicked her out the day after the big battle.

"Hold on," Cordy replied before doing the freaky eye roll thing that meant she was conversing with the PTB. When she came back to herself, hours later, Buffy was sat on the couch, reading the last book that Spike had been working on before his death.

"They'll do it, all of it," the higher being told her with a tentative smile before filling her in on what the powers had to say. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Buffy said confidently.

"Good luck," she replied softly before channeling the Powers That Be and casting the spell.

~BTVS~

May 2001

Buffy stumbled a bit as she caught herself on the tower. She looked down and saw the other version of herself still fighting Glory. She looked up and saw Spike confronting Doc. She scaled the rest of the tower with a speed she didn't know she possessed. She got there just as Doc threw Spike off and turned back to her sister, brandishing his knife.

She wasted no time in calling Doc's attention to her, grasping the knife in his hand and turning it back on him. Twisting his arm up and driving it up beneath his chin before throwing him off the tower and rushing to her sister. She untied her, checking to make sure there wasn't a drop of blood that could spill out.

"Dawn!" she heard her own voice call out and she turned to face herself. "What the he-" the question was cut off as Buffy felt herself lurch forward until she became one with her past self. She felt her other selves consciousness fight for dominance until she shared her memories of everything that was to come.

She felt her own fear, anger, disbelief and sorrow. She felt herself give in and become one with her. "Buffy?" Dawn asked timidly as she slowly approached. "What was that? What happened?"

Buffy gave her little sister and tremulous smile. "It's a very, very long story. Let's get down from here and check on everyone first, okay?" She looked down at her hand and, seeing the once destroyed gaudy green and gold ring on her finger, smiled in relief. It had survived the merge with her past self, just as Cordelia had promised.

"O-okay," Dawn agreed hesitantly, allowing Buffy to grab her hand and lead her back down the tower.

Buffy knew that Giles had just killed Ben as he approached them. Knew that it was necessary, no matter how much she'd hated it. Tara was aware of herself again and clinging to Willow. Xander and Anya were panting and smiling as the Summers' sisters came down to stand before them. Both alive and the world still standing.

Buffy shared a meaningful look with all of them, taking them all in as they once were. Realizing how much work she had ahead of her. How much knowledge of the next few years were missing. She knew the important bits though. Knew the big things she had to change.

Starting right now. She let go of Dawn's hand, sending her a reassuring smile before turning and walking towards where Spike was trying to pick himself back up from his fall. She reached his side and bent down to help him up.

He looked at her in relief and surprise as he allowed himself to lean against her. She smiled up at him, eyes softening a bit as he peered back down at her with that look that she hadn't realized she'd loved until it was too late. He had a chance now, to love her and to be loved in return.

He saw something in her, she knew. Something that called to him. "Buffy?" he breathed out, curiously.

Her smile brightened. "Boy, do I have a lot to fill you guys in on," she announced as she and her vampire rejoined her overcurious friends. Tara looked at her with something like awe and knowledge. Probably an aura thing, Buffy decided.

Xander hesitated, eyeing the vampire and slayer warily before shaking his head and asking. "Pizza?"

Buffy laughed at the exhausted cheers from her friends as they turned as a group and started towards the Summers residence. She felt Spike tense alongside her and pulled him along with her. "That means you too, Spike," she told him quietly, squeezing his hand in assurance. She didn't have to look at him to know he was giving her that soft, awe filled gaze again.

She'd save him this time, not just his life but him. After all, she had forever and so did he if he wanted it, whether he knew it yet or not.