Part 3

 

It's no secret that the stars are falling from the sky
The universe exploded 'cause of one man's lie
Look, I gotta go, yeah I'm running outta change
There's a lot of things, if I could I'd rearrange

 

-U2, “The Fly”

 

My nice, civilized dinner looked more like a WWE match. Giles and Dawn argued over the last helping of mashed potatoes, knocking over a virtually untouched bowl of Brussels sprouts. Xander reached out to grab a brownie off the platter, and Willow smacked his hand. “Hey!” he exclaimed, looking hurt.

 

“You can’t eat that,” Willow argued. “You told me to help you with your low carb diet, remember?”

 

“Do they make carb free chocolaty goodness?” he asked hopefully.

 

She went into the kitchen and returned with a silver bar. “Chocolate Fudge Brownie, low carb variety.”

 

Xander took the bar she offered him and peeled open the wrapper.  He bit into it and made a face. “These taste as crappy as those energy bars I tried to sell that one time. Do you remember that?”

 

“I still have two cases of them in storage,” Giles said. “I remember them well.” He poured some milk into his coffee, stirring it with a spoon.

 

I took a brownie and bit into it. It was rich and moist and oh so yummy. “Wow, these are fantastic,” I said. “Dawn, that home ec class is really of the good.”

 

“It’s called Life Skills now,” she corrected. “And I didn’t make them.”

 

“I did,” the Bot said. She came into the dining room wearing one of Mom’s aprons, which invited us to kiss the cook.

 

“Who asked you to bake?” I asked. I really, really didn’t want this thing in my life more than necessary.

 

“Willow suggested that nurturing the people I love would impress Spike.” I looked at Willow and she turned away quickly. “A brownie says ‘I love you.’ And clean clothes say “I value your comfort.” And a shiny sink says, “I wish you well.” She smiled. “I care for the people that I love. Spike admires that about me.”

 

Willow had turned her into a Stepford Wife. “He admires that you care?”

 

She nodded. “For Dawn and Harris and Willow and Guyles.” Giles sighed and threw another cube of sugar in his coffee. “I express it by killing things for them and keeping them safe. And now with my attention to hearth and home.” She turned and looked at me. “I have studied the food pyramid and read The Joy of Cooking.” She laughed. “It was somewhat like The Joy of Sex. The illustrations-”

 

“Whoah,” Xander said, cutting her off. “That’s too much information.”

 

“What’s the Joy of Sex?” Dawn asked, tilting her head.

 

“It shows you what positions-” the Bot began, and Willow clapped her hand over its mouth.

 

“I’ll go refresh your programming,” Willow said, leading her from the room.

 

“How long has the Bot been taking care of the housework?” I asked Dawn.

 

“Since you got hurt,” Dawn said. “It’s great. I don’t have to do any of my chores-” She broke off. “I mean…”

 

“You haven’t been doing any of the chores for weeks, and yet I’ve been paying your allowance?” She looked at me guiltily. “Well, I hope you appreciated your break, because the Bot is going back into mothballs as soon as I’m up to speed.”

 

The front door slammed, and I turned to see Spike. He looked at me impassively as he stood in the foyer. So much for my fantasy of him falling to his knees, telling me that he loved me and he was so sorry for the way he’d acted after we made love. “You missed dinner,” I said. “I left a message on your machine, asking you to come.” Since, you were, in fact, the whole point of it.

 

“I got it,” he said. “I had other plans.”

 

What other plans? This was driving me insane. “Well, there are plenty of brownies left, if you’d like some.”

 

He didn’t move. “That’s alright.” He shifted his weight, uncomfortable. “So, you ready to patrol or should I come back later?”

 

Giles stood up and pulled on his jacket. “Let’s go. Another storm is coming, so we may as well do it before it hits.”

 

“Any progress on finding out the cause of all this weather?” Spike asked as they headed into the living room.

 

I heard the creak of the weapons trunk being opened. “Willow and I have some ideas, but nothing concrete as of yet,” Giles replied.

 

“Buffy?” Dawn said. I turned to look at her. “You okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” I said. I realized that I must have looked like I was spacing out while I was eavesdropping.

 

“You sure you’re ready for patrol?” she asked worriedly.

 

“Oh, I’m so ready,” I assured her. “Definitely ready to get back into the Slaying saddle.”

 

Dawn smiled. “Things are finally getting back to normal.”

 

Spike and Giles stood in the foyer. “Slintoch demons don’t have that kind of power,” Spike was saying. “They’re only frost demons-” The door shut behind them.

 

“Yeah, normal,” I said.

 

********

 

The vampire growled loudly and lunged for my throat. I felt a surge of adrenaline as I punched him in the chest. He stumbled backward, and I kicked him in the head. I raised my stake to finish him off, and he disappeared in burst of golden dust.

 

“Eat my stake!” the Bot exclaimed loudly, looking very pleased with herself.

 

“Eat my stake?” I asked Giles.

 

He turned to me and shrugged. “It could be worse. She is particularly fond of  ‘I will dustify you, Jell-o man’ and ‘you poof, lickety split boom’.” We walked through the graveyard, our footsteps the only sound in the quiet night.

 

“Why was she saying such weird things?”

 

“She seems to have a rather tenuous grasp on the English language. Much like…” He turned to me with a smile on his lips.

 

“Compare me to her, and I will totally kick your ass,” I said warningly.

 

He smiled. “Well, you know-”

 

A distant scream cut into the stillness, and we both took off running.  Dawn. I raced towards her, my feet slipping in the newly fallen snow that now covered layer upon layer of frozen ice. My mind brought forth a flood of images: Dawn hurt; Dawn bitten; Dawn lying on the ground, her unseeing eyes staring upwards. Stop it. Don’t think that way.

 

I twisted and turned through the jumble of crypts and mausoleums, finally reaching her. Spike and Dawn were crouched at the foot of a monument decorated with a tall stone angel.  He held Dawn as she shook, crying into his chest as she grasped his shirt.

 

“What happened?” I sank to the ground next to them. “Is she okay?”

 

“She got bit,” Spike explained.  “Little bastard got a taste of her before she offed him.” He patted her back.

 

“Is it bad?” I asked anxiously. “Let me see.”

 

Dawn shook her head, pressing her face closer into Spike. His hands tightened on her shoulders. He gestured for me to come closer, and I bent my ear to his mouth. “She’s afraid that you won’t let her patrol anymore,” he whispered. “Niblet’s afraid she let you down.”

 

I pulled on Dawn’s shoulder and she turned to look at me. Her face was streaked with pink, her eyes wet with tears. “Let me see,” I said. She turned her head and showed me. It wasn’t pretty; she’d fought, and instead of two tiny holes, she had two jagged wounds in her neck.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice squeaky.

 

“It happens,” I said. “Sometimes things just happen. It’ll be okay.” She hugged me tightly, and I kissed her head. “You’re a good fighter, Dawnie. I’m really proud of you.”

 

“He didn’t get anything serious,” Spike explained. “It looks worse than it is. But I should take her back and get her patched up.”

 

“I’ll take her home myself,” I said, as we helped Dawn to her feet.

 

“I know how important this is to you,” Spike said. “Your first night back with the Slaying. You’ve really missed it.”

 

I had, so much. Even now, my body was totally juiced for a fight, and I hadn’t really seen any action yet. “Dawn’s more important,” I said firmly, and I meant it.

 

“Spike can take me home,” Dawn said. He put his arm around her and looked at me, waiting.

 

“Okay,” I said, giving in. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

 

“I’ll look after her,” he said. “No worries, Buffy.” I watched them walk across the frozen landscape, getting smaller and smaller.

 

“A soul doesn’t change what he is,” said a quiet voice. I turned to see Giles looking at me worriedly.

 

“The soul changes everything,” I replied.

 

“Not that he is a vampire,” Giles said. “Not that he is a monster. You must remember that, Buffy.”

 

 I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. I didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to share this, didn’t want to deal with what he’d say, what they would all say. “I remember, Giles. I do.”

 

He took my chin in his hand and lifted it so that I was forced to look at him. “Then stop this before it begins again,” he said. “You know that no good can come of it. Don’t you?”

 

I refused to believe that. “He is good,” I said.

 

“And if the soul is stripped away, what then?” he asked.

 

“He’s not Angel,” I argued. “He’s chipped.”

 

Giles looked at me seriously. “And if the chip malfunctions, or he manages to remove it?”

 

“Then he’ll still have changed,” I said. “He loves me, and I love him. I trust that.” And I did.

 

“Angel loved you too,” Giles said. “It didn’t change what he did to me, or you.”

 

I saw where this train of thought was leading. “Or Jenny,” I added.

 

“Or Jenny,” he confirmed.

 

“There’s no darker side, no other self,” I said. “There’s just Spike.”

 

“How can you be sure?” Giles asked. “How much do you really know, about who he is?”

 

Loud footsteps in the snow warned us that someone was coming. Willow appeared leading the Bot, who was walking stiffly, her eyes wide. “It’s very, very dark.”

 

“You just jammed your vision circuit,” Willow explained. She looked at me. “I need to get her back home.”

 

“We may as well all call it a night,” Giles said. “There’s very little stirring tonight as it is.”

 

We headed back to the house, crunching across the snowy field. There was no one out there, the whole town blanketed in snow and silence. “It’s really eerie, how quiet it is. I didn’t even get a chance to kill anything,” I complained.

 

“Coming from anyone else, that would sound kind of psychotic,” Willow commented. “But with you, I guess it means you’re back, Slayer wise.”

 

“I’m back and I’m bad,” I said, spinning a stake. “For what it’s worth.”

 

We reached my house and Willow led the Bot inside. Giles took my hand as I put my foot on the bottom step. “Walk with me a minute,” he asked.

 

I walked next to him as we headed down the block toward his car. “Please consider what I said earlier. I know that you are a grown woman, and your private life is none of my business.”

 

“I’m sensing a but,” I told him.

 

“But,” he went on, “I think rekindling any kind of romantic relationship with Spike would bring nothing but pain, to either of you.”

 

“We’ve never had a romantic relationship,” I said. “Giles, I used him. I took how he felt about me, and twisted it and made it something dark and painful. I want to show him that things can be different now. I owe him that much.”

 

“Love is not a balance sheet, Buffy,” Giles said. “There is no way to add on to make up for what’s been lost.”

 

I realized what he was saying. “You don’t think he loves me anymore.”

 

“He’s involved with someone else, and he cares for her deeply,” Giles said. “He brought her to meet me today, and I know that was more for your benefit than mine. He is sending you the message that it is over. That is the reality. You must accept it.”

 

There was no way I could accept that. “But we slept together,” I said. “He wouldn’t do that if it didn’t mean anything.”

 

“Buffy,” he said gently. “I have been with many women. But I loved only one.”

 

“He’s not you,” I replied. “I know he loves me. He’s lying to us, and to himself.” I turned to leave, trying to hold back my tears.

 

He grabbed my hand. “Let this go, please. There is a huge threat to our lives now. The signs are all there for a coming Apocalypse, one we may not evade this time. Focus your energy on your duty, Buffy, not your desires.”

 

I pulled away and went back into the house. Dawn’s room was fast asleep, and I found Willow in her room, working on the Bot. “Where’s Spike?”

 

“He left as soon as we came in,” she explained. “He said he had to go.”

 

To see the mysterious Chloe, no doubt. I went downstairs to my training room and slipped on my gloves. Punching my speed bag over, and over, the impact of my hands into it, became the world for me. I lost track of time, stopping when my knuckles were red and swollen, and my mind was empty of everything.

 

********

 

The next night was equally lacking in vamp activity. The Bot and I patrolled alone, the rest of the Gang hanging at Xander’s, eating pizza and watching videos.

 

“I think we killed all the demons,” the Bot said helpfully. “Maybe we’re done now, with the Slaying.”

 

What an amazing thought. I sank into it for a second. Regular life, no ruined clothes, no life threatening injuries. “There’s always something else to fight,” I told her. “You can never let your guard down.”

 

“If I weren’t a Slayer, I’d like to be a homemaker,” the Bot said. “I like laundry, and cooking, and caring for others.” She smiled wistfully. “I’d like to have a family.” She turned to look at me. “If I ever had a baby, I’d want it to have Spike’s pretty eyes.”

 

He did have pretty eyes. “But that can never happen,” I said briskly.

 

“Because we are apart now?” she said with a shrug. “On the television, I saw a program. It explained what he is doing.” She looked thoughtful. “Spike is sowing his wild oats.”

 

“Spike is what?”

 

“He is sowing his wild oats. All men do this before they settle down. They need to feel that they have chosen the right one, the perfect woman. He’ll come back to me,” she said confidently.

 

I looked at her, and for the first time, I could see myself in her. This was what I thought, too, when I thought of the way he was acting, and doing whatever with Chloe. “How can you be sure it’s just a passing thing?” I asked. “How do you know he’ll come back?”

 

“Knowing me has given his life meaning,” she explained, her face rapt. “Loving me is a blessing, a ray of light in the dark. In a world of millions of souls, he found me, and it is destiny. Together we make each other stronger. He is the one I never knew I needed, and we will never part. Someday, he will come back for me. Because it is meant to be.”

 

He’d programmed that into her. His feelings for me, his hopes and dreams. He believed we were destined, and I believed it too. I needed to see him, now, and make him understand.

 

“You go on home,” I told the Bot. “I have somewhere to be.” I took off running, headed for Spike, and my destiny.

 

*******

 

I let myself into Xander’s apartment. Willow and Dawn were snuggled up with Xander, each of them leaning a head on his shoulder. His head was tilted back, and he was asleep, lightly snoring.

 

“Hey Buff,” Willow said. “Come watch and eat.” She gestured to an open box with a half eaten pizza.

 

“Is Spike here?” I asked.

 

“He’s out with Chloe,” Dawn said. “They left a little while ago.”

 

Chloe, again. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer and a plate. “What’s she like?”

 

“She’s wonderful,” Willow said. “You should remember her. She was in your poetry seminar.”

 

I sat down next to the coffee table and grabbed a slice of veggie deep dish. “Chloe from Professor Lillian’s class?” I asked, trying to picture her.

 

“She’s pretty memorable,” Willow said. “Long black hair, pretty face.”

 

“I don’t remember,” I said. I’d been pretty wrapped up in Riley and Glory and Mom’s death, at the time.

 

“Chloe’s the editor of the college literary magazine, now. She started a poetry slam at the Expresso Pump. They’re there now, setting up for the opening tomorrow night,” Willow explained.

 

“I really like her,” Dawn said. “She’s so smart and really, really nice too.”

 

 “She sounds wonderful.”  Bitch. I popped the top off my beer and took a long, steady sip. “Spike’s one lucky guy.”

 

I settled in to watch The Princess Bride. “As-you- wish,” yelled Wesley, as he tumbled down a huge hill. Princess Buttercup’s face contorted with horror and realization. “Oh, my sweet Wesley!” she exclaimed. “What have I done?” She threw herself after him, exclaiming with pain as she fell. “Ow! Ow!”

 

I could relate.

 

******

 

It was a free country. Anyone could come to a poetry reading. The Expresso Pump was dim and dark, and filled with people. The hum of chatter and laughter lent a party feeling to the gathering.

 

A woman took the stage, dressed in a black chiffon dress. Little mirrors sewn on it reflected in the light of the spots that illuminated her. “Welcome to the poetry slam,” she said. “My name is Chloe Albright, and I’ll be your host tonight.”

 

The crowd whooped and hollered appreciatively and she blushed, bowing her head to hide behind her thick dark hair. She was delicate, like Drusilla. “Our first poet is Ted Rossing. Come on up, Ted.”

 

A thin man with long brown hair took the stage, pulling up the mike to the right height. “Two snakes entwined,” he read. “Brown scales slide as reptile hisses.”

 

I made my way through the crowd, looking for Spike. I soon spotted him, sitting at a table on the other side of the room. Chloe was leaning in close, talking in his ear, and he nodded. He kissed her forehead and got up, gesturing for a waiter. I watched him as he spoke to the barista, handing her a twenty.

 

The crowd applauded, and Chloe got up and took the stage again. “Thanks, Ted,” she said. “That was intriguing, as always.” She rifled through the sheets of paper in her hand nervously. “Well, I wasn’t going to share anything tonight, because as some of you may know, I haven’t felt much like writing. But I was inspired recently, and so I do.”

 

The lonely man lives in a world of gears,” she read.Tick tock, mind the clock.

 

“Springs and levers to eat and sleep. Cranks and pulleys whir, eating his dreams and shredding his spirit.

 

“No love in the clockworks. No future in the factory.  No respect in this assembly line. Destiny whistles on the half hour.

 

“His prison cell, his death time knell.  His collar and his leash. Plastic and circuitry, keeping him a slave.

 

Jesus Christ, she knew about the chip. I turned to watch Spike. His eyes were fixed upon her as she read.

 

“The lonely man lives in a world of possibilities. Gears rust. Springs break. Belts snap.

 

“Someday, he’ll be free.”

 

The room was silent for a moment, and then it burst out in applause. “Thanks,” she said shyly. Spike stood up and walked to the stage, kissing her on the cheek. “Ladies and gentleman, this is my friend William Lambert,” she announced. “His chapbook Siren Songs is being published this winter by the Four Quarters Press, and he has been awarded a grant by the Monterey Poets Society.”

 

“She does so like to brag for me,” he said with a smile, and the audience laughed. She walked down the steps, and sat down at their table. He reached in his pocket and put on a pair of small glasses with gold frames, and began to read.

 

It is a dark wilderness. Interiors filled with emptiness, room upon room without meaning. Shadows eat the shades of gray, leaving black ripples in their wake.

 

“Savage beauty is a thunderbolt in my chest. The knowing begins then, with the golden spark of her hair. Awaking from a seamless world to find hope, slithering like a snake into Paradise.

 

Rotting from within, the semblance of love empty and tainted. The Slayer takes all, magnificent Kali destroying all she touches. Dreams become ashes, loneliness the only constant.

 

Obsession breeds obsession. Love is bared, ripped screaming from the center. The foundation topples, leaving only crumbs.

 

Monster breeds monster. Out of their dreadful clashing arises a frail spirit. In blood it died, in fire it is reborn.

 

The fearsome cauldron of her love is as deep as ages. Uncertainty is death. Fortune favors the brave.

 

Straining to slip free of her fearsome call. She sings her siren song, and I swerve to avoid the rocks. With the force of the inevitable, I drown, lost within her.”

 

The room was completely still for a moment, and then the crowd burst into applause.  I turned, feeling numb. He thought I’d destroyed him.

 

I walked outside, the freezing air whipping my hair around me. Seeing nothing, hearing nothing, I walked back home. When I finally arrived, my face numb from the cold, Willow was sitting on the couch.

 

“Hey Buffy,” she said. “You just missed the funniest thing…” She stood up, the afghan on her lap spilling to the floor. “Buffy, what’s wrong?”

 

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t feel. I was just empty.

 

“Sweetie?” Willow said worriedly. She stood in front of me, closing her warms hands around my frozen ones. “Buffy?”

 

He thought I’d destroyed him. “It’s too late, it was always too late for us and I never knew,” I said.

 

She looked at me with concern. “This is about Spike, isn’t it?”

 

I nodded. “I love him so much and it’s too late. I fucked it up. I ruined everything.” My voice shook as the words tumbled out. “He won’t tell me anything, but he’ll tell her. He’ll share with a room full of strangers before he opens up to me.” My control shattered, and I began to cry.

 

“It’s okay,” Willow assured me, pulling me into a deep hug. “It’ll all be okay, Buffy.”

 

“He hates me,” I cried. “He hates me, Will.”

 

“Shh,” she said soothingly. “Just let it go. Go ahead and let it out.” I did. I let it all go and just let her hold me, her gentle hand patting my back like a baby. “Let it all out, Buffy.”

 

*******

The next morning, Dawn came into my room and got in bed with me. “Hey,” she said.

 

“Hi,” I said. She looked at me with concern, her brow furrowed. “Willow told you.”

 

“Yeah, Willow told me,” said my sister. “I’d like to talk to you about it.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t think that you love Spike, Buffy.”

 

“But I do love him, Dawnie,” I argued. So much I feel like I’m going to be sick when I think about not getting him back.

 

“You think you love him because he’s with someone else now,” she said. “That’s all. This isn’t love, this is regret.”

 

“It’s not like that,” I said.

 

“Buffy, you see this guy you used to be with, and he’s with a really great girl that everyone likes. You’re alone, and he’s not. That’s why you’re feeling this way.”

 

“That’s not it,” I argued. “This isn’t about feeling jealous.”

 

“It feels the same,” she said. “I see RJ walking down the hall with Alicia, and it really hurts me. What we had, it was just a spell, but it felt real. And those feelings, they aren’t gone. They’ve just become something different.”

 

“But I didn’t have these feelings before,” I said. “What I felt before wasn’t love.”

 

“How can you be sure? How is this different than the hit me, do me, go away, no, do me thing you guys were doing last year?”

 

“This is the big love.” I searched for the right words. “This is railroad tracks love, Dawn. If I can’t have him, this world just sucks too much for me to want to be in it.”

 

She stroked my hair, and I closed my eyes. “That sounds pretty dysfunctional, Buffy.”

 

“It’s how I feel,” I said. “I need him by my side, more than I need anything.” I stared up at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. “I want us to be together. Being a real couple, sharing, trusting. But none of that will happen if I can’t find him and make him understand that I’ve changed.”

 

She rested her head on my shoulder. “Have you really changed, Buffy? Into someone that wants to be with him, no matter what?”

 

Yes. Whatever it takes.

******

 

I knocked on the door of Xander’s apartment. He opened the door wearing a pair of sweatpants, looking groggy. “Hey Buffy. This is not really a good time.”

 

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was actually here to see Spike.”

 

Xander looked away. “I was going to call you later, but I got kind of distracted.” I noticed he had scratches all over his chest, and a large red hickey on either side of his neck. I leaned forward, and saw the white circle of a bite mark on his shoulder.

 

Xander was getting some. “I can see that,” I said. “Well, I’m sorry I interrupted. Have fun, be safe.”

 

I turned away, but he put his hand on my shoulder. “Buffy.” I turned to look at him. “Spike is gone.”

 

“That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll come back layer.”

 

“Buffy,” he said patiently. “He’s gone, as in the never coming back variety.”

 

I felt like I was going to faint. Don’t fall, don’t fall. “How do you know?”

 

“Because he told me,” Xander explained. “Took all of his crap, gave me his key and left.”

 

“But he couldn’t just leave,” I said. “Not without saying goodbye.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he replied, but his eyes said he wasn’t. “But it’s for the best, you know. It’s better this way; you’ll see.”

 

He was so clueless. “I don’t want to move on,” I said. “Xander, I’m in love with him.”

 

“I don’t think-” he paused, looking away.

 

“You don’t think what?” I pressed him.

 

“I don’t think he feels that way anymore,” Xander said. “I mean- the way he used to look at you, even I could tell there was something deep there. But now- it’s just gone. And that’s for the best, Buffy. Because you need someone who can really be there for you, and that’s never going to be him.”

 

“You’re wrong,” I said. “All of my life I just wanted to be loved, the way that he loves me. It’s not wrong, with him. It’s right!”

 

Xander looked at me, with his jaw set and arms crossed. “You’ll get over it. He’s already over you, Buffy, or he wouldn’t have had some other girl here, packing his stuff.”

 

“What’s taking you so long?” asked Anya. She came out of the bedroom, a sheet trailing around her. “Oh, hi Buffy.”

 

“Did he leave me a note?” I asked Xander. “Anything?”

 

“He said to tell you that you need to work on your right flank, because you’re still not a hundred percent on that side after your injury.”

 

“That’s all?” I asked.

 

“That’s all.”

 

I turned and ran down the hallway. I had to find him, had to stop him. He needed to understand how much I loved him, so I could show him that things had changed for me. I refused to believe that things had changed for him. It couldn’t end this way, it just couldn’t.

 

*****

 

“He left me a letter,” Dawn said.  “I found it in the mailbox while you were at Xander’s.” She was rummaging in the refrigerator, and she came out with a roll of cookie dough. Setting it down on the counter, she pulled out a sharp knife, slitting open the plastic wrapper.

 

“Can I see it?” I asked.

 

She looked at me as if I had gone insane. Again. “Noooo. It’s private.” She cut off a hunk of cookie dough and ate it.

 

“Dawnie, I need to see the letter.”

 

“Have some cookie dough,” she said. “It’s yummy.”

 

“That’s gross,” I said.

 

“No, gross is your attempts at casseroles,” she said. “This is good.” She cut herself another piece.

 

“Stop changing the subject.” I said. “I need you to get me the letter from Spike. Now.” I used my bossiest, hardest Mom voice.

 

Didn’t faze her a bit. “It’s private, between him and I.” She turned and looked at me, looking annoyed. “Buffy, the letter is about me. There’s nothing in it that you need to know.”

 

“I have to see it.”

 

“I said no,” Dawn said. “Stop asking me. You’re – pissing me off.” She slammed down the knife on the counter and walked down the hallway.

 

“I’ll take you shopping,” I said, following her into the living room.

 

“No.”

 

“I’ll let you get your navel pierced.”

 

“No.”

 

“I’ll let you drink a wine cooler. You and me, sitting right here in the living room, drinking wine coolers.”

 

“Buffy-”

 

“Shopping, wine coolers, belly button ring.”

 

“Buffy!” Dawn was totally exasperated, hands on hips. “You sound totally pathetic and obsessed and it’s no good. He’s gone.”

 

I felt a surge of panic. No, he can’t be gone. “I have to find him,” I argued.

 

“Spike doesn’t want you to know where he is,” she said, stressing every word. “He wants to make a fresh start. You need to respect that.”

 

“I really love him, Dawn, and I have to tell him that,” I said. ‘I deserve a chance to say it, and I think he deserves a chance to hear it.”

 

She came back downstairs and handed me an envelope. I went out on the back porch and sat on the top step, unfolding the letter.

 

Slayerina-

 

I’m sorry that I left you without saying goodbye. I know I promised you that I’d never do it again, when you and I went down to the dock and made our peace. Some promises just can’t be kept.

 

I love you, and there won’t ever be a day that passes that I don’t think of you. You’re in my heart, always. If things were different, there’s nothing I’d love more than to see you every day, and help you grow, and punch out all the stupid gits that come sniffing round my girl.

 

But things are what they are.

 

About now, Slayer’s flipped her lid. Ranting and raving, probably lots of rot about how she loves me, she needs me, and she has to find me. Don’t believe any of it. Don’t let it give you false hope, or make you wish it were true. She’s good at that, you see; giving you just enough to build a dream on, but pulling it away before it comes true.

 

Can’t play Charlie Brown any more, niblet. Not even for your sake.

 

Be good. Mind your sister. Don’t believe anything boys tell you. Work on your crossbow; you’re still tilting left a bit.

 

Have a good life, Dawn.

 

Spike

 

Wonderful. Zero clue here. I went inside, and Dawn looked at me warily. “Did that help any?”

 

“Not from a hunting him down point of view, but yes. I know he loves me, or he wouldn’t have written that letter.”

 

“Give it up, Buffy,” she said. “Please, just let it go.”

 

“I can’t and I won’t.” I thought for a moment. “He didn’t tell us where he was going. Who else does he know? There’s Clem.”

 

“Clem took a job at Disney World,” Dawn explained. “He’s Goofy.”

 

“Well, that’s about it for friends. Spike’s not the most sociable guy right now.”

 

Dawn looked serious. “You could ask Chloe, if she’s still here.”

 

I got her drift. “You think he took her with him?”

 

“I’d say it’s worth thinking about,” she said. “I hate to be, you know, blunt, but how are you going to feel if you chase him down and he’s with her?”

 

“I have to try,” I insisted. “I can’t just lose him without a fight.”

 

She thought for a moment.  “You could try Farinelli’s.”

 

“What’s Farinelli’s?”

 

“The restaurant where he works. If he was really leaving, he’d have to let them know.”

 

*******

 

I walked into the restaurant. It was a nice place, with Italian scenes painted on the walls and low, romantic lighting.  There was a blond woman setting a table, carefully placing silverware on the snowy white tablecloth. “Hi,” I said.

 

She looked up at me, startled. “Hello.” She was very pretty, her eyebrows plucked into high arches, framing large blue eyes.

 

“Do you know someone named Spike, who used to work here?”

 

She looked at me oddly. “Spike? That’s a really weird name.”

 

I sighed. What a waste of time. “Thanks.” I remembered Chloe’s introduction at the coffeehouse. “William Lambert,” I said. “Blond hair, blue eyes, pierced ears.”

 

“That’s William,” she said. “Why do you call him Spike?”

 

“Nickname.”

 

“Weird one, for a sweet, quiet guy like him.” She sighed. “Really too bad that he’s gay.”

 

“He’s not gay,” I argued. Way, way far from it.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Look, if he wasn’t gay I would have totally nailed him,” she said with a leer. She waved her hand, her long turquoise nails moving close to my face. “But then he came in with the pierced ears, talking about the guy he lived with, and I got the picture.”

 

Well, that explained the earrings. Poor Spike. “We had a fight, and I really need to know where he’s gone.” She looked me over, and I thought she was wavering. “Just give me his new address,” I said. “Please.” I fumbled in my pocket, pulling out a fifty-dollar bill. “Please.”

 

“You know you’re acting like a psycho, right?” she said.

 

“It’s not like that,” I said. “He just doesn’t understand how much I love him, and I need to find him and make him understand.”

 

She looked at me with utter disgust. “Get out of here and out of my face before I call the cops.”

 

“Please,” I said. “Please just help me.”

 

“Nicco!” she yelled. “We have a nut ball stalker here. Can you call the cops?”

 

******

 

I’d faced apocalypse after apocalypse, sent my boyfriend to hell and died twice. I still didn’t feel prepared to face the woman that Spike seemed to have feelings for.

 

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door of her apartment. After a moment, she opened the door. “Yes?” Chloe wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup, dressed in a black sweater and jeans, but she looked beautiful. I really hated this girl.

 

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Buffy.” She looked at me blankly. “Buffy Summers?”

 

She smiled in recognition. “Dawn’s big sister. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” She shook my hand and opened her door wide. “I have class in a half hour, so I can’t chat long.”

 

I walked in, and saw that a stack of cardboard boxes had been shoved between a futon couch and a papasan chair. I recognized Spike’s handwriting, sprawled across the sides. “Papers”, “Books” ,“Clothes”. “William’s things,” she explained.

 

“Is he moving in here?” I asked.

 

She smiled. “Hopefully, after he comes back from Monterey.” She walked into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

 

“Just some water,” I said.

 

Chloe returned with a thick tumbler filled full. I took it and sat down on the couch. She had some kind of pretty potpourri on the table, and it smelled like cinnamon. “So he’s in Monterey?”

 

She nodded. “William’s working on his next chapbook. He got a grant, so he’s taking some time to focus on his poetry.” She looked at me hesitantly.  “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?”

 

Good question. “I borrowed a book from him,” I lied. “I’d like to return it.”

 

“You can leave it with me until he gets back,” she offered, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

 

“Can I have his address?” I asked. “I’ll mail it to him.”

 

Chloe shook her head. “He doesn’t want to be disturbed. He’s-” She sipped her water, looking away. Things were not perfect in Chloeville. Good. “He’s making some decisions about his future, about what he wants. He needs his privacy.” She stood up, our visit clearly over. “I remember you now,” she said, looking at me with her piercing green eyes. “You were Riley Finn’s girlfriend.”

 

“That’s right,” I said.

 

“How’s he doing?” she asked curiously.

 

“Happily married,” I said. “To someone not me.”

 

Chloe smiled politely. “Well, good for him.” She walked me to her door, and there was a crash and a bang that made us both jump. “Loki,” she said, annoyed. “That damn cat.” She turned and rushed into the kitchen.

 

I waited for her to come back, looking at the pictures hanging on her wall. There were several of Spike, including one where he was kissing her hand as she laughed. I looked away, and my attention was drawn to the bundled pile of mail that sat on the hall table. A blue and white cardboard envelope was on the bottom. “William Lambert,” I could make out. “900-”

 

She came back out, brushing white cat hair off her sweater. “Sorry to leave you hanging like that.”

 

“No problem,” I assured her.

 

“Feel free to drop off William’s book,” she said. “Have a good day.” I said goodbye and left. I turned into an alley, and peeked my head around the corner. No one came out. I waited for about ten minutes, hoping Chloe didn’t go out the back.

 

She didn’t. She walked outside, her purse over her shoulder and the pile of mail in her hands.  I ducked my head back down the alley as she headed in my direction. She walked past, and I waited a minute, then followed her. At the corner of Porter, she opened the mailbox on the corner and dumped the mail in, walking away.

 

I waited, and waited, until the coast was clear. Running over to the mailbox, I punched in the door on the back. I sank to my knees, feeling around for a large cardboard envelope as hundred of letters poured out at my feet.

 

I grabbed four Priority Mail envelopes and set them aside. Not one of them was the right one. I saw two more of the big envelopes, way back in the back. I shoved my head in the mailbox and strained forward with my arms. They were stuck up top near the drop off. “Will-” I could make out, in the dark inside the box.

 

“Hey!” said a loud voice. I pulled my head out of the box and saw a fat mailman running towards me, his huge bag flapping against his legs. “Hey you! Stop!”

 

I shoved my head back in and with a lunge and pulled down the two envelopes. I heard one rip as I scrambled backwards. I got to my feet and took off running hell for leather.

 

“Tampering with the mail is a federal crime!” the postal clerk yelled as I rounded the corner.

 

*****

 

“You’re on crack,” said Dawn. “This is nuts, totally nuts.”

 

I kept packing, throwing my clothes into a duffel bag. “It’s what I have to do.”

 

“Chloe told you that he was moving in with her when he got back,” Dawn argued. “This is stupid.”

 

“He needs the time to convince himself that he doesn’t love me,” I said. “I need to get there before he can.” I handed Dawn a bank envelope full of twenties. “I’ll be back soon. If you need help, ask Giles or Willow.”

 

I grabbed the bag and ran down the stairs. “I hope it works,” she called after me. “And I’m going to stock up on Ben and Jerry’s in case it doesn’t.”

 

“He loves me,” I called. “Bank on it.”

 

The bot was sitting on the couch reading “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus”. “You’re going to go be with your man?” the Bot asked.

 

“Yes,” I said.

 

“I hope that he comes back to you,” she said. “You just have to know it, with all your heart, like I’m sure of Spike. I hope that your man loves you, the way that mine loves me.” I felt sorry for her, all of a sudden. I knew that my dream might never come true, but I was absolutely certain hers wouldn’t.

 

“I hope you get what you want,” I said. “Good luck.”

 

“I don’t need luck,” she said with a luminous smile. “I have love.”

 

I rushed down the front steps and banged into Willow. She fell to the ground, her groceries scattering. “Sorry!” I said, helping her up.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I’m going to Monterey to see Spike,” I explained. “Please take care of Dawn.”

 

“I will,” she promised.

 

I turned to leave, and something occurred to me. “One more thing, Willow. How sophisticated is the technology that made the Buffybot?”

 

She listened intently as I explained what I had in mind.

 

*******

 

I sped along the highway, headed north.  After hours of driving, I turned off at the exit and followed the coast until I saw the sign I was looking for. ‘The Dunes’.

 

I drove down a long lane, and the smell of the ocean grew stronger.  The road ended at a huge Victorian house, its lights empty. ‘Closed for the Season’ declared a sign that was strung across the front steps. “Caretaker’s cottage,” said a neatly labeled arrow, pointing to the right. A red motorcycle was parked in the gravel lot, and I pulled in next to it.

 

I grabbed my bag out of the Jeep and followed the path of crushed shells to a small bungalow. Opening the door, I stepped inside.

 

The living room was neat and tidy, the kitchen small and sparkling clean. There was a door to the left and one to the right. I chose the left. Spike lay sleeping on a mattress that lay on the floor. He was totally nude, his arm thrown across his face. 

 

I slipped off my dress and stepped out of my panties, kicking them aside.  I lay down on the bed next to him, putting my arm around his waist. He murmured and slid his hand around to cup my ass. “Buffy,” he said sleepily.

 

Everything I’d been worrying about was irrelevant. I was the one he still wanted. “That’s me,” I said, kissing his shoulder.

 

He turned over and smiled at me. His eyes were barely open, the dim blue green of beach glass in the low light. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” I said, cupping his cheek.

 

Spike jerked back. “Fuck!” He scrambled out of bed, jerking up the sheet and covering himself.  “Put your clothes on,” he said, fuming.

 

No, no, no. This was all wrong. “Don’t be this way,” I said. “I love you and-”

 

“Bugger it,” he fumed. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. My head dangled, giving me a view of firm thigh and calves as he walked across the floor. He opened a door, and I felt the cold air hit my skin. “Don’t!” I yelled, realizing.

 

He tossed me outside, and I landed on my ass in a pile of sand. The door slammed shut behind me. I stood up and waited for him to let me in. He wasn’t going to leave me standing alone, naked, on a beach. He loved me. He would not do this to me.

 

I heard the distant rumbling of thunder. Small drops of rain began to fall. “Spike!” I yelled, and thunder boomed, closer this time. The rain began in earnest, slamming into me like dozens of tiny needles.  Lighting cracked over the ocean, as the sky dumped down a cascading sheet of water, and the ocean churned with the force of it.

 

The door opened, and Spike gestured for me to come inside, and I shook my head no. “You daft, woman? Come in out of the rain.”

 

“Come out into it,” I said.  He tilted his head and squinted at me, obviously sizing me up for a spiffy back fastening white jacket. “If you love me,” I said, “you’ll come on out.” He looked at me warily, not giving an inch. “You belong with me.”

 

“I can’t risk it,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I’m just not-” He broke off, looking at his feet. “I’m not as strong as you are, Buffy.”

 

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” I argued. “I need that strength. I need you. Life sucks without you, and I want you to come home.”

 

“To your bed,” he said. “Living off of scraps, it’s not enough.”

 

“It’s not like that,” I said. “I love you, Spike.”

 

“You don’t know what love is, Buffy,” he said, exasperated. “Love isn’t just getting what you want. It’s sharing, building something. You’re not willing to do that with me.”

 

“I’ll let you into my heart, to my home, to my life,” I said. “Let me show you that I’ve changed. I don’t expect you to open up to me all at once, because I know I’ve hurt you horribly. Just give me a chance.”

 

He didn’t move. “I can’t lose you again. The first time broke my heart. The second made me lose my mind. I can’t deal with it. I just- can’t.”

 

“You won’t have to,” I assured him. “I promise, with my heart and soul. With my life, Spike.”

 

“I want to believe you,” he said, wrapping his arms around his chest tightly. “You don’t know how much.”

 

“I love you,” I said. “Look in my eyes, and see it, Spike. Feel it.”

 

Lightning cracked, jolting into the ground down the beach. It was a beautiful bolt of white, leaving the smell of ozone in the air.

 

He held my gaze for a long time. I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, as the rain sheeted down, drenching me. “Buffy,” he said finally, in a jagged voice, and he came outside, pulling me into his arms.

 

He held me close, his arms around my shoulders, and his warm mouth moved over mine. It was peace, and pleasure, and all the things I’d ever wanted, but never had. It was homecoming, thanksgiving, and benediction.

 

It was love, and we would make it last forever.

 

*******

 

Epilogue

 

Buffy sat on the top step of her back porch, making a stake. Willow asked her to make them a lot. She’d try to help fix something, or make dinner, or play a game with them, and then she’d be right back out here in the yard. She didn’t understand why they needed so many stakes; at last count she’d whittled two hundred and thirty seven. There was a whole pile of them in the backyard that Xander had covered with a plastic tarp. She decided to do something different; she’d make double sided stakes! The other Buffy and Spike would be so, so pleased.

 

She heard a rustling noise coming forward through the bushes at the rear of the yard. She waited to see what it was; she’d accidentally staked a squirrel once, and Willow had become very angry, and Dawn had cried.

 

Spike came through the bushes, his face determined. “Buffy.”

 

Buffy rose to her feet, the stake falling out of her hands, forgotten. “Spike.” She watched him walk towards her, his fair hair shining in the sunlight. The leather duster whirled all around him. She sighed happily. He was wearing the coat! She thought of something. “Spike! The sun! You’ll get all burned up.”

 

“Not to worry, petal,” he said. He reached the step and lifted her into his arms. She squeaked with surprise. “I am a changed man.”

 

“You’re a changed man?” she asked, her eyes wide.

 

“Because you loved me,” he said, smiling down at her. “Because you loved me with all your heart, I am able to be everything you wanted. Everything you need. Right here with you, every step of the way, until the end of time.”

 

“I’m so happy,” she said, and she felt the tears roll down her cheeks. “Oh, Spike! I do love you with all my heart!”

 

“And I love you with all my heart,” he said solemnly. “You’re all I think about, all I dream about, all I want in the whole wide world.” He bent down and kissed her, the kind of kiss that said it would be a happily ever after.

 

In the kitchen window, three heads were watching the couple. One of them sniffled.

 

“Tell me you’re not crying,” Xander said.

 

“It’s so sweet,” Willow said. “They’re so in love.”

 

“Weird, twisted robot love,” he replied, ripping off a piece of paper towel and handing it to her.

 

“Look at them, Xan,” Dawn said softly.

 

“Look at what? The mechanical kissing?” He looked out the window and saw the bots. They were smiling at each other, the happiest people he’d ever seen. Well, at least the happiest robots he’d ever seen.

 

“It is real love,” Dawn said, her eyes soft. “They may not be real, but their love is.”

 

The End

 

You're in my mind all of the time
I know that's not enough
if the sky can crack
there must be some way back
for love and only love

 

-U2, “Electrical Storm”

 

 

 

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