Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Eight

Take Your Time

New Sunnydale, the world without shrimp - November 2007

Anya stood outside the shop staring up at the sky. Overhead were thick smoky clouds, a bad sign. She cradled Jack's head against her chest, she had a feeling he wouldn't be safe here. She stood out in the street for just a moment too long. The rain started with a crackle in the sky and a bright flash in the distance. Thunder echoed minutes later approximated its distance. This was California, there weren't supposed to be thunderstorms in November. Anya knew something was wrong, that something bad was starting. It wasn't just the Day of the Dead, she could feel it, a light tingling in the air. Something in her bones just felt wrong.

"Let's get you inside," she said to Jack, trying to mask the worry in her voice. She tuck his head into her neck and took him back inside the shop.

Xander was sitting on a stool by the counter, his nose in the plans for a new park across town. Anya took a final look through the glass in the door before flipping the sign to closed. "Honey?" Xander said, his head poking up from his reading material.

"It's raining." Anya replied bluntly, carrying Jack through the shop and putting him down in his swinging chair in the middle of the room. There were other chairs, wooden and lounge alike, sitting around the room. She slumped into one. Staring down at her baby and ignoring her husband. She huffed a little, breath billowing her lips and making a noise that made Jack giggle. Then she snapped, "fine." As if she was arguing with herself inside her head.

"An? What's going on?" Xander said, getting up and perching on a harder chair, a more solid wooden one Giles would've approved of.

"It's raining and the rain is wrong." She said, pointing to the glass at the front of the shop, where the water dripped down in harsh patterns. "I mean, it feels wrong. There's thunder and lightning and there shouldn't be, this is California. England maybe, but not here. It doesn't just downpour. I know there's Day of the Dead and all, but it's still making me feel all weird and sticky."

Xander looked down, "sticky?"

"Yeah I feel all protective. It's Jack, everything's different now. When something bad happens, I can't just run away, Xander." She was getting a little irate, tired and irate. She stood up, rubbing her forehead and picking Jack up again. "I can't have him be in danger. It's my stupid hormones and feelings and I have to protect him." She started to cry, tears forming quietly as she tried to keep Jack from crying. She shielded her face from him, only letting Xander see her true emotions.

He reached out for her, standing up. "Oh, An look, we're gonna be safe in here. It's only a little rain. We'll be safe in here. I can call the others if it helps." She nodded, still not bringing herself to meet his eyes. She cradled Jack tighter and paced around the room.

"No, I'll call. Can you just go and make sure all the doors are locked? Please." She said, going into the room behind the counter. Part of the newbuilt section of the shop, inside was a couch, counter, microwave. Anya had Jack's bottles lined up along the wall ready to be sterilised. She took a clean one out and measured out a scoop of formula. She needed to do something to take her mind off whatever was going on. She hated being this on-edge, and Jack was fussing.

"Honey, are you okay?" Xander said, hanging in the doorway. "I mean properly. Tell me what's going on?" He walked over and started comforting the baby, taking him into his arms and cuddling him.

Anya sighed again, more dramatically. "I'm so tired, and I can't handle Jack and the world ending."

Xander cut in before she kept going, "the world is not going to end, An." He stepped forward, kissing her forehead. "I promise."


A warehouse outside San Francisco, the world without shrimp - November 2007

Drusilla whispered some fateful words and Spike rose from his thick stupor. "I'm back, baby." He said quietly, before the hangover from hell kicked in. Drusilla had been staring at him like she was waiting for something, now she was clapping her hands and giggling. Spike gripped his head and groaned. As the hypnosis was lifting, as he came out of the cloud weighing him down, he felt a thumping louder than Drusilla's squeals. "Though, I'm not feeling too good."

He could feel something in the air, and a lick of blood somewhere near him. He could smell it on her wrist, on his chest. The air felt wrong, like if he kept thinking about it, he'd feel guilty. He could sense a part of him missing, and it wasn't fun. It was desperate. Then he forgot all about it because there was blood lining his throat and Dru's fingers were playing with his lips. "Here you go, my pet." She said like he was one of her dolls. "Are you ready, my prince?" She asked, expecting him to leap up and tell her he was ready for action. But this was wrong. His soul had been ripped from it, he earned it, there was a part of it permanently tied to him now. Unless it was removed by a proper force. The magic Drusilla used was stolen.

"I don't know, love. I feel kinda wrong." He rubbed his head again and pushed her a little. He wanted space, to think. He lifted his head up and looked into her devil-yellow eyes. She was evil. He could see it now. But he felt energised, despite his headache, the magic taking its toll, he felt like he could kill. Properly and not feel bad about it, felt like he was popping again. His heart wasn't beating but he felt alive. "Kinda good wrong, Dru? Let's conquer the world." He yelled, breaking free from the rope restraining him. Drusilla had forgotten to remove in her haste to release him. She thought he was ready, thought he was willing to be the king consort to her queen.

Spike lunged forward past Drusilla, as another blast of pain rushed through him. He crumpled to the floor like he'd been shot. The final bit of Drusilla's pull was wearing off, after months and months the fog lifted. The magnetic pull between them faded and suddenly Buffy's screaming face came into his mind's eye. He clutched his head in agony, why was this one so much worse than the first? Why was it hurting? Shouldn't he be released from eternal torture? Shouldn't all grief be gone?

Drusilla thought so. She thought he'd be fine, thought that her magic was irrefutable. But she was wrong. What she did was wrong. He was kneeling on the floor, his eyes screwed shut, and his hands red from rage. "Buffy?" He whispered to himself, he sounded crazy. Or he would've done if there were anyone else in the room, besides Drusilla. "What does it mean?" He mumbled, but even then he felt it slipping away. He mumbled a few more splutterings of syllables before shaking his head. Get rid of the bad thoughts, wash clean, new start. Tabula Rasa.

"What is it, my sweet sweet Willy?" Dru said, kneeling down beside him and holding his shoulders tightly. There was an air of force about the action, she wanted control.

Spike turned his head and looked back at her, she moved her hands to his neck. He was biting his lip. "You got anythin' to eat?"


Half an hour later he was slurping blood out of a pouch. A truck carrying a supply for the hospital overturned on the side of the road. Drusilla took her fill. The driver may or may not have seen a woman walking in the middle of the road, she looked hurt, she was walking circles. He slowed to a stop, going to check whether the woman was alright, it's anyone guess as to what happened after that.

He ripped the plastic with his teeth. Sitting on a broken wall inside the warehouse, he licked the rest of the blood from his fingers. "Nothin' like a bit of O neg, eh Dru?" He said, making her giggle. She was prone to that, from time to time. The vampires sat for a moment, enjoying their food, discussing plans. All the while, Spike was thinking, plotting where he was going to go when he escaped here. He had to find her, had to apologise. Buffy had to know that all the things he said, that he hadn't meant them. That he was just under Drusilla's thrall.

Drusilla was nuts, and Angelus tortured the sanity out of her a long time ago. Spike knew there was no way to make her normal. To make her see any kind of sense. His chest felt empty. There was no warm lump of hope. He was ignoring logic, for some reason. Logic told him to be selfish, to stay here and rule the smallish world he and Dru could create with chaos. But then there was the other side of the coin. Loyalty. Even soulless vampires, well not most of them, but a few soulless vampires, still believe in loyalty. Spike was still Spike, he felt some kind of loyalty to the Scoobies. And he wanted his soul back, he'd earned it, fought long and hard for it, and he wanted it back!


San Francisco, the world without shrimp - November 2007

"Anya called," Buffy said, her fingers still clasped around the phone. "She's anxious, like really anxious about the weather turning?" Her voice lilted upwards at the end like she wasn't sure what she'd just heard down the phone. Anya had been upset, rambling. It seemed like it would've made a lot more sense for Xander to call. "I think we better go down there." Then she put the phone down and started doing something else.

Giles pulled her to one side, "do you really think it's wise?" He asked in his usual, organised tone. "Going down there, I mean." He adjusted his glasses, then waited for an answer.

Buffy folded her arms. "Well, I-I don't think it's a bad idea." Buffy stumbled, "it'd be nice, you know. To be all together. It's been a long time, Giles." She looked over at Dawn and Jenny talking happily. She missed it, everybody talking, researching.

Giles smiled dimly and looked down. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I know it must've been hard, Spike leaving."

Buffy didn't meet his gaze, instead she examined the dust on her shoes. He didn't have to say much and he had her thinking about it. He meant well, but it was still raw. "Thanks," she said lightly, tucking hair behind her ear. She felt very small. "It's been- well I don't really wanna talk about it." She looked up, "please Giles, it'd mean a lot to me."

He tried to say no. He tried really hard. But she was boring into his eyes and his heartstrings were being tugged. "Yes, for you." Then he turned around, Jenny was smiling, "it is nice to see her like that."

"Yes it is," Buffy said, turning round too. Dawn looked calm, happy. If she invited Willow and Tara, they could all have a really nice time down in New Sunnydale. Dawn loved Jack, and whatever was going on with the crazy weather. It was probably the Day of the Dead, but she was interested now. Willow would be too. Spike was... Well, wherever Spike was, she didn't care about it. She just didn't want him getting in the way.