By Heather Martin

*You can lie to others. You can lie to yourself. But you can’t lie to your dreams .*

Spoilers- Grave

Disclaimer- Joss owns all the characters from Buffy TVS

Distribution- Sure, just ask

Summary- Anyone know what dissociative fugue amnesia is? Well, Spike develops such a case after his sudden shiny soul, along with the unexpected return of humanity. He just can’t cope, so he pretends to be somebody he‘s not. As for Buffy, she lies to herself that Spike’s absence hasn’t effected her. But at night, she cannot keep him out of her dreams. What will happen to these two lost souls? Will they ever find their way? And will it be together?

This occurs after Grave. The time between episodes are unclear. Pretend that everything after ‘As You Were ‘only spanned a couple weeks. If you think about it, that makes sense. Seeing Red, Villians, 2 to Go, and Grave all happened in a couple days.

Chapter 6

Buffy announced her departure at The Magic Box. She told them that she needed to see Giles, which wasn’t a lie.

“Why, Buff? Something big goin down?” Xander questioned. He sat at the round table with Willow and Dawn.

“I’ll explain it all when I get back.” She knew she was being cryptic, but they wouldn’t be able to handle the whole truth. Especially Xander with his extreme disgust for Spike. He’d surely prevent her from even stepping out the door.

Dawn crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m staying here, aren’t I?”

A sigh escaped Buffy. “I’m afraid so.” She shifted her eyes to land on Xander and Willow. “Could you guys look after her?”

“Sure, Buffy. Will and I can do it together,” Xander told her.

Behind the register, Anya spoke up. “I can help too!”

“Thanks.” She glanced at Anya. “All of you.”

The vengeance demon grinned. Poor Ayanka was trying so hard to be part of the group. She knew that the only reason they originally let her in was because of Xander. Now that the two were separated, she feared that they would forget about her. What she didn’t see was that she had become a full-fledged Scooby. She’d helped them numerous times and Buffy wouldn’t over look that.

Late afternoon approached and Buffy called Giles. She calculated time difference and assured herself that it was an appropriate time to do so. He answered on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Buffy gripped the phone tighter at the sound of his voice. “Giles?”

“Buffy, is that you?”

“Yeah,” she answered.

“Is everything all right?”

Now there was a question. She gave a humorless laugh. “On apocalypse scale, or bad hairday scale?”

“Buffy . . . Are ‘you’ all right?”

A span of silence came before she replied. “I need to see you. Can I come for a visit?”

“Don’t you think it would be best if I came to see you?”

“No! You’ve already hopped on a plane to fly across the ocean. It’s my turn,” she explained.

“Do you think that would be wise? Anything could happen to the hellmouth in your absence.”

“Giles, I was gone for 146 days. A week or two is nothing. I’m sure the gang can handle things. Besides, Cleo is here. She can use some powerful mojo on some nasty that appears.”

“Uh, Buffy . . . Did you say two weeks? This must be a crucial matter. What is so grave that you need to be here for two weeks?”

Buffy shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “I-I can’t tell you over the phone. And it might be less than two weeks. It depends on how long it takes.”

“Takes? Buffy. . .?”

“I’m sorry, Giles, you must be so frustrated not knowing what is up. You’ll find out, but not over the phone.”

“What about your job. I doubt the Double Meat Palace will grant you vacation time.”

Damn, she hadn’t thought of that. Work had totally slipped her mind. “I dunno, Giles. I’ll probably get fired.”

“Buffy are you thinking rationally about this!?” His voice came out more rash than he intended. He wasn’t upset with her actions as he was worried as to why they were being made.

“I’ll get another job. I need a new one anyway.”

“I hope you have valid reason for doing all this, Buffy. I’ll have you know that I will be reimbursing you for the flight.”

“No, you’ve done enough for me already. This is all my idea, I . . .”

“I insist. If this is as important as it sounds then you don’t need to be worrying about another expense.”

“Thanks, Giles,” she said softly.

“I’m always here for you.”

“I know. See you soon.”

“Goodbye, Buffy.”

She hung up the phone, putting it back in the cradle. She leaned heavily against the wall. It all suddenly sunk in. She was going to be a mother. A dozen emotions passed through her at that moment. Of course she was scared. A part of her feared that she would never find Spike and she would have to face this alone. Another was wonder. Something alive grew inside her. It was a part of her . . . a part of her and Spike. There was confusion. How was this possible? Spike was supposedly dead and unable to reproduce. Then again, neither of them followed the rules. She was also grateful. This was a miracle that she had wished for back in her early high school days. The thought of being a parent and having a family had evaporated soon after her encounter with the Master. It was a known fact that slayers didn’t live long. And she felt hope. Hope that she would get to Spike and he would never leave her again. Hope that she could find a way to love him freely back, and be the first of her kind to raise a child.

The fact that water had filled her eyes escaped her until they began to trickle down her cheeks. She went over to the window and gazed out. The sunlight filtered in through the glass, filling her with warmth. A new confidence coursed through her veins.

Her hand roamed to rest on her abdomen.

“We’re gonna find your daddy, baby. And no demon, vampire, or hellgod is going to take him away from us,” she vowed.

In another dimension, almost touching our own, the Eliminator (not a demon, vampire, or hellgod, but something else entirely) laughed at the slayer’s ignorance.

______________________________________________

Chapter 7

Buffy was in some unknown house. The room was dark and she fumbled around for a lightswitch. She found one on the wall. Flipping it up, the room became engulfed in light. There was a couch and TV. A stereo system had been set up, with CDs stacked beside it.

“What are you doing here, luv?”

She spun around. There he was in all his glory, bare muscled chest and all. His blond hair was tousled in different directions. The jeans he wore on were unbuttoned, indicating that he threw them on quickly.

She faced him, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me I woke you,” she said.

He took a step toward her. “Actually, yeah, ya did.”

“It’s night, Spike. Shouldn’t you be up and about, you being nocturnal and all?”

He flashed her his famous smirk. “Things change, luv.”

She nodded. “Yeah, they do.” Her hand came up clutching a CD of Billy Idol. “Apparently not your taste in music.”

“Ha ha, very funny, slayer.”

The atmosphere changed. Buffy put down the CD. “Spike, why are you here?”

“Good as any other place.”

“I need you.”

He chuckled. “Always needin me for something.”

She sighed. “This time is different.”

“Oi, yeah? Not wantin to feel? No apocalyptic danger?”

“No,” she whispered.

He came up, only a few inches from her face. “I’m not comin back until you need me ta love you.”

“I’ve always needed you to love me. I’ve never needed to love ‘you’ before.”

“Buffy,” he breathed.

*+ *+* +*

Buffy woke up. She brought the covers up to her chin, feeling very cold.

Why did she have to dream about him? She was already tormented in the daytime, she didn’t need it while asleep as well.

She rolled over, trying to get comfortable. I’m going to make this right, she thought. For me, for Spike, and for our baby.

*+ *+* +*

On the other side of the globe, Spike opened his eyes as well. He had been taking a nap, not getting much sleep last night. Apparently, he wouldn’t get much now either. After he had a dream about ‘her’ it was a lost cause of ever drifting back off.

He turned his head to check the clock. About time to get ready for work anyway.

Things were going pretty well. He had a job and a small, but cozy flat. If only he could get ‘her’ out of his head. His arousal grew when he thought of her. His heart raced. He wanted her, he knew, but he couldn’t have her. They would cause each other pain. He didn’t have any memories, only a black hole sucking him dry; but he still had feelings. And his feelings told him he had to stay away from ‘her’.

*+ *+* +*

Dawn interrupted Buffy’s packing. The slayer tucked her folded blue shirt in the suitcase and looked up.

“Did you want something, Dawnie?”

“Why are you doing this, Buffy? I think I deserve to know,” Dawn demanded.

“I’ll explain everything . . .”

“Yeah, when you get back, I know.” The teen came over to her sister. “I’m worried. Something is wrong, otherwise you wouldn’t be doing this. Is there some demon wanting to end the world, or does this have something to do with just you?”

Buffy shut the suitcase. “Actually a little of both,” she answered.

“That so didn’t reassure me. Actually, I think I got more worried. I’m not a child, I can handle what’s going on. Come on, at least give me the basics. I’m only gonna find out later anways.”

Defeated, Buffy sat down on the bed. “Cleo sensed a negative force in London. We don’t know what it is or how dangerous it is.”

“It’s in another continent, Buffy. You never seemed to care about dark forces other places before.” Dawn’s eyes sudden widened in realization. “Giles. You’re concerned for Giles.”

It would have been so easy to simply says yes and let her think that was the only reason she was leaving. But Buffy was sick of lies. She hated lying to others, having others lie to her, and most of all lying to herself.

“I’m worried about Giles, but there is another reason I’m going as well,” she confessed.

“What is it?”

The expression Dawn gave her made her crumble. No one ever told the teen anything, she was always the last one to find out. Dawn loved Spike like a big brother. So maybe it would be okay to tell her the truth. Not the complete truth, ¾ maybe.

“Spike,” Buffy found herself say.

Shocked, Dawn said, “Huh? You are going to England because of Spike?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. Cleo did a locating spell. He’s in London. Hopefully Giles can help me find him.”

“What about the negative force you mentioned?”

“Oh, uh, Cleo sensed that when she spotted Spike.”

“And you don’t know anything about it?”

Except that it’s centered around Spike, Buffy thought. But she didn’t need to worry Dawn with that. Wasn’t anything the former key could do to help. This was her problem. As a slayer . . . and ( what was she to Spike?) and . . . the mother of Spike’s child.

“Not really,” Buffy said. “Whatever it is I’ll kick it’s a . . . butt, fetch Spike, after showing him how pissed I am for his disappearing act, and come on home. I’ve handled worse.”

“I don’t know, Buffy. You know how much trouble Spike gives us. But we love him anyway.”

For once Buffy didn’t argue. She had come to realize that she did have feelings about the bleached vampire. How deep they went were yet to be determined.

________________________________________________

Chapter 8

The baby wasn’t too keen about the plane ride. Buffy managed not to actually heave, however. She passed on the meal and sat as still as possible. By the time they landed her stomach had calmed down. Giles was there to meet her. He was a gentleman and took her luggage.

They hugged before getting into his car. “It’s good to see you again, Buffy.”

She gazed into his fatherly eyes. “It is,” she agreed.

“I trust that you will go into detail as to why you are here.”

She reluctantly nodded. “As soon as we get to your place.”

Buffy got into the passenger seat, while Giles settled behind the wheel. The car pulled out of the airport, and onto the main road. The whole driving on the left was a pretty weird concept.

“How are the others?” Giles inquired.

“We’re good. Been quiet all summer.” She smiled. “What is up with June and July anyway? The nasties seem to take a break then.”

“I wouldn’t know. I am not a demon. And when I was, it was only for one day.”

Buffy’s smile broadened at the memory of Giles becoming a Fharl demon.

“Is Willow adjusting well?” Giles’s asked.

“We haven’t had much one-on-one time. She doesn’t mention what happened. I think she’d rather forget.”

“That’s only natural. She has tremendous guilt with what she has done.” He glanced over at the young woman beside him. “I wouldn’t have sent her back if I thought she wasn’t ready. I’m convinced that she will never lose such control again.”

The conversation switched to more light matters: the Magic Box, Dawn’s schooling, etcetera. The drive was too short, and Buffy soon found herself facing Giles’s new place. It was gray with a white door. The outside appearance hinted that the inside wouldn’t be half-bad. Which ended up being correct. Buffy considered asking for a tour in order to prolong the time before her confession.

Giles led Buffy into the well-furnished living room. “Let’s sit down,” he suggested.

Panic came over her. Great, this is it, I’m gonna have to tell, she realized. She sat down on his sofa, staring at her hands. She searched her mind for anything that would avoid talking about why she was there.

“Nice place. You like it more than your last?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he asked, “Why are you here, Buffy?”

She sighed. What would he think of her? Would he be angry with her? Or would he laugh? She hoped he could find a middle-ground: serious, concerned, yet understanding.

“Buffy, you have to tell me. Otherwise, I won’t be able to help,” he said at her long pause.

“I know,” she replied. “But I don’t know how. You’re going be so disappointed in me.”

“Even if that is so, you can’t avoid this conversation. This trip would be meaningless otherwise.”

Buffy shut her eyes, wanting to be somewhere else. She knew it was horrible, but she wished she was back in heaven right then. There were no worries there, only contentment and love. Things had been so simple when she had been dead.

She was snapped out of her pondering by Giles. “Buffy?”

Her head shot up. “Oh, yeah . . . sorry,” she stammered.

The ex-watcher laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Please, Buffy, you can tell me anything.”

Some of her fear died with that. This was Giles. Her father, not biologically, but in her heart. If she couldn’t confide in him, who could she confide in?

“You remember me telling you about Spike and me, right?”

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “Uh, yes . . . of course.”

Her green eyes met his. “I’ve got to find him.”

He removed his glasses. “I don’t understand, Buffy. Why tell me this?”

“He’s here, in London.”

He began to wipe the glasses with his shirt. “I see. And you want my help?”

“Yes.” There was a pause. “And your guidance. Giles. . . I’m pregnant.”

As she said the words he had been bringing up the glasses to replace them over his eyes. They fell from his fingers to rest on his lap. The man made no motion to pick them back up.

“Giles?” Buffy asked after he had frozen.

Giles slowly turned his head. “Excuse me, Buffy. Did you just tell me that you were pregnant?”

She nodded. “Uh huh. And Giles. . . it’s Spike’s.”

“Dear Lord!”

* + * + * + *

He read a book on dreaming. It said that it was possible to condition yourself to control your dreams. He was trying to find a way to exclude ‘her’ from his slumber. He certainly hadn’t wanted to replace her with this, however.

Bodies lay all around him. Some had their necks broken, while others were bloodied. He ran, attempting to escape. The heaps of dead seemed never ending, going on forever. He found himself stepping on one. Horrified, he stumbled backwards. The woman’s eyes shot open, making him yelp They were black and hollow.

She sat up. Her gaze transfixed him. “I was going to get married.”

Spike blinked. “Uh . . .”

“You stole my day away from me.” She abruptly stood up, charging at him.

He bolted away. He heard whispers from behind. Accusations, crying, screams, and threats. They all thought that he had killed them.

Suddenly something came in front of him and slammed him to the ground. He raised his head to see ’her’. She had her arms crossed, legs slightly parted. She stared down at him with disgust.

“You are an evil thing. You can’t feel anything,” she spat.

Violently, he shook his head in protest.

“Yes. You killed them all. Women, men, and even children.”

“No,” he moaned.

“And you killed me.”

He put his head in his hands. He rocked slightly back and forth. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The air changed to a bitter cold wind. “You will never be a man after what you have done. And you no longer can be a demon. You shouldn‘t even exist” This was no longer ’her’ voice, but something else. Something dark. It pounded inside him, wanting to rip his insides out.

Spike tore at his hair, begging to be left alone.

“I am coming for you.”

Spike awoke, gasping. He snatched the lucid dreaming book on the nightstand. Bloody book! Great help it had given him. He threw it across the room. It hit the wall, near the door.

Sodding waste of money.

* + * + * + *

Giles had his arms around his sergeant daughter. She was crying softly now. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

The man didn’t think he had ever hugged someone this long before. Refined English, especially watchers, weren’t too familiar with such affections. True he had done such with the scoobies in Sunnydale, but they had never been this needy. Although slightly uncomfortable at first, he was starting to get used to the contact. And he was glad to give his comfort, even if it was a tremendous amount this time around.

“I keep screwing up. I’m supposed to be a responsible adult. Look where I’ve ended up. Pregnant by some evil vampire. I’m the slayer, I shouldn’t be screwing up like this.” She pulled back a little. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Oh, Buffy . . .” He touched the side of her face. “You are the best slayer I could have hoped for. Everyone makes mistakes. Even slayers. That doesn’t mean they aren’t good. On the contrary, it makes them better. People grow from their mistakes.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t flunk my driving test, Giles. I don’t get a second chance at a perfect score. I got knocked up. By Spike! And nothing can change that. It is the worst possible thing I could have done. And the really bad part is it doesn’t feel as horrible as it should.”

He met her eyes. “Maybe it isn’t so horrible.”

Shocked, her eyes widened. “What!? Giles, this is Spike,” she protested.

“There must be a reason why the rules were broken for you. Vampires, aren’t supposed to have children,” he stated.

“Yeah, I know. Of course, I know. I’m the slayer.”

“Yes, you are. No slayer has ever been recorded as being pregnant. The council wasn’t even sure they were capable of procreating. Do you know what a rarity this is?”

“I’m beginning to. So, you‘re saying this is not of the bad?”

“I’m not saying that your relationship with Spike is right. Everything about it is wrong. What I’m saying is that all the details about this baby’s formation point to it having a higher purpose.”

Buffy leaned back into the couch cushion. “So I could be carrying some messiah? Like Moses or something?”

Giles gave her a warm smile. “Considering your achievements, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were capable of parting the Red Sea.”

“You think?” She smiled back at him.

There was a span of silence, both of them just being there together.

Finally, Buffy broke the quiet. “About Spike . . .”

“Yes, about Spike.”

“He needs to know, Giles.”

He nodded. “Yes, I agree.” He stared at her intently. “Do you love him?”

She violently shook her head. “No,” she said, forcefully.

The older man lifted an eyebrow. “No?”

She bowed her head. “I mean, I don’t think . . .” Her head lifted again. “Do I?”

“That is something you will have to figure out for yourself. It is clear that your feelings are strong. You came all this way to find him.”

“Yeah,” she admitted.

“Then that is precisely what we shall do.”

He was hit by another hug. “Thanks, Giles.”

_______________________________________________

Chapter 9

For the past few hours they had been trying to access a list of new residences for the last two months. So far they hadn’t made much progress. Buffy had been very surprised to discover that Giles had purchased a computer. This was the guy who didn’t even own a decent television. His excuse had been that he could send information to Sunnydale with no trouble. When logging on, however, his messenger popped up with eight contacts.

“Giles, you chat?”

“Uh . . .”

“Just face it, you’ve been sucked into the twenty-first century.” She laughed. “Hanging around us young people has corrupted your conservative ways.”

After spending hours, struggling to hack, they had become frustrated and moody.

Giles hit the keyboard with a fist. “Bloody concoction!”

“Should I call Willow?”

“Please do,” he replied with relief.

Heading to the phone, she abruptly stopped. She couldn’t call Will. She would have to give details. Details she wasn’t ready to tell.

Giles looked over. “What is it?”

“I can’t call Willow. She’ll need to know who I’m looking for.”

He took off his glasses. “You haven’t told the others?”

“No,” she replied softly.

He sighed. “Buffy, you can’t keep running and hiding from things.”

“I know. I should call. Can I take a walk to clear my head beforehand? Prepare what to say?”

“Good idea, do that.”

She gave a weak smile before stepping outside. She took in a deep, refreshing, breath, relieved to be alone. She sat down on the steps, looking up at the cloudy sky, which seemed to match her emotions.

* + * + * + *

Spike hadn’t been able to concentrate all day. Not that he had been able to before because of ‘her’, yet now he was filled with disturbance.

It was only a dream, he kept telling himself. So why did he feel so much guilt? He couldn’t have killed those people. Not in his mere twenty-eight years, even if he tried.

He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t a killer. Hell, he had taken a bug he had found outside instead of squishing it the other day. You don’t save insects and turn around to shoot a human being.

No, it had to have only been a dream. An awful one, but that was all it had been.

Time to go to work rolled around. He dragged himself out of the house, trying to evade his worries. Focus on real life, mate, he told himself.

The sky was overcast and he missed the sun. In two months, since his awakening, he had grown used to the light. His skin had some color, and his eyes no longer squinted from the glare. The concept of getting a car arose a couple times but he quelled it. For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to ride in a shady automobile. Maybe he shouldn’t have sold the motorcycle. Oh well, the walk to work was good exercise.

He ended up in an alley, which was part of his normal route. He had walked through it everyday since getting his job at the pub, but there was something off about it this time. He halted, surveying the ground and building on either side. Nothing appeared to be wrong.

Spike shrugged and moved his feet forward again. That dream must have screwed with his brain more than he thought. No problem, all he had to do was prove to himself that his life was normal. That he was a mundane guys, not a murdering monster.

At that moment, a black figure popped in front of him. The person. . . no not a person. . . A demon? The thing wore a long cloak that covered its features. It lifted its arm. A long bony finger slipped out of the baggy sleeve, and pointed directly at Spike.

Spike took a step backward. A dream- He was still sleeping. Had to be.

The reaper-like-creature lifted his head. Where a face should be, all Spike saw was dark nothingness, that is except two glowing golden eyes. Like cat eyes in the night, he thought.

“I said I was coming, William Shayne. Or is it Spike?” Laughter, that was closer to shrieking, came from it. The finger never wavered. His voice was booming, and Spike was sure his bones would crack from the force of it.

“No, you’re neither. You’re nothing now. You shouldn’t exist,” it continued.

Spike couldn’t move or speak. All he could do was stare, waiting for it to end. To wake up or . . .

Blue lightning escaped the finger. It crackled, shooting with speed right at Spike.

* + * + * + *

Buffy sat peacefully for about fifteen minutes, trying to put the pieces of her thoughts together. All of a sudden her heart sped up. She jumped to her feet, slayer alertness taking over. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it deep inside her, coursing through her veins.

Her legs sprinted, directing her where to go. It was all a blur until she slowed, coming to an alley. She was greeted by a dark form looming over a man. There was a crackling sound and sparks began to shoot out of the cloaked figure. Without pausing to a take in the scene, Buffy rammed into the male, tackling him out of the way. They both ended up on the ground, Buffy ontop.

“Bloody hell!”

Time stopped. Buffy had to remind herself to breath. In slow motion she lowered her gaze.

“Sp-ike?” she choked.

Memories of being in this exact position raced through her brain. She could feel the familiar body beneath her. Blue pools stared up at her and they seemed to be sucking her in. She was drowning in their endless ocean. Had they really been that blue before?

“You,” he whispered in awe.

Buffy didn’t know how to react. But it wouldn’t have mattered if she did, for the cloaked figure shifted his aim and electricity engulfed her.

_______________________________________________________

Chapter 10

It didn’t hurt. All Buffy could feel as the electric shock traveled through was warmth. She couldn’t command herself to move, but she was aware that her body jerked. God, she wished it hurt. Pain gave her strength, yet all this appeared to be doing was draining her dry.

Then it all stopped. She lay there, gasping, her mind jumbled. After what seemed like an hour, but had only been over a minute, she craned her neck. Spike was busy fighting the reaper. He spun and kicked, threw punches and dodged lightning. He was beautiful when he danced. She had never witnessed him from afar before, usually having to be his partner.

Things were in Spike’s favor until the cloaked reaper knocked him to the right, making him hit his head on the side of a building. The reaper raised both his hands and electricity shot out of the palms. It soaked into Spike. He gritted his teeth at first, but it soon became too much and he howled. Was that how she had looked? Had she cried out as well? He wasn’t in pain, was he? All it had done to her was stun her. It sure looked like it was hurting him. A new determination came over her. Buffy got to her feet. She swayed slightly with dizziness. Finally she regained her balance and entered the incident.

She came up behind the reaper creature. He didn’t notice her at all, continuing to zap Spike. The bleached-blond had stopped yelling and was surrendering to the power now. Seeing him so weak and vulnerable broke Buffy’s heart. He had always been strong and in control.

Buffy kicked the reaper in the side. He didn’t fall, but stumbled. The lighting seized. He turned around to face her. His fathomless face with glowing eyes chilled her to the bone.

“Slayer,” he hissed.

A grin spread across her mouth. “That’s me. Lesson for today, when I get knocked down, I always get back up. Kinda like a weeble.” She paused. “Wait, no, they only wobble. Bad example.”

The reaper glanced at Spike, then at Buffy. “I will return. For BOTH of you.” Before either blond could blink he was gone.

The slayer stood there for a moment, her eyes planted where the reaper had once been. She took in a long breath. She stepped toward the man on the ground.

“Spike?” she squeaked.

He made no attempt to get up. She knelt down beside him. “Spike?” she reiterated, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

His wondrous blue eyes snapped to meet hers. “You,” he stated.

A small smile came to her lips. “Me.”

Spike sat up slightly. “I’ve seen you in my dreams.”

“I’ve seen you too.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were real,” he told her.

For awhile after she first came back she hadn’t felt real. Actually, it was hard to feel at all. The hallucination by the nerd gang seemed more solid than her actual world. But now she knew that she belonged here. She was alive, and had created it as well. And Spike. . . he was real and here too.

Buffy took him in. He wore a blue sweater and khaki pants. He still wore black Doc Martin’s, but they were new. His hair was free of gel and curled, falling into his eyes. The most striking thing she noticed about him was his skin. Instead of its usual pale complexion, it was darkened by a slight tan.

Her head shot upward. The sky was cloudy, yet not a dark gray, more a dirty white. Dreary, but still light enough to prevent vampires from venturing outdoors. Buffy’s lips parted. She took a hand and pressed it on his chest. Even though he wore a thick sweater she could make it out. The thump thumping of his heart.

The fact that water accumulated in her vision went unnoticed. “Spike, you’re alive.”

He sat up all the way. “Well . . . yeah.”

She removed her hand. “How?”

“Wha . . .?”

“You breathing, out in the day.”

He shook his head. “Isn’t that what everybody does? Ya know, breath, go out in the day?”

“Not vampires.”

Spike broke out in an explosion of laughter. Buffy stood up, irritated. She put her hands on her hips. “What is so amusing?”

He fought to control his laughter. “You’re off your rocker if you believe in that rot.”

“Oh, right, this coming from the ex-master vamp that tried to kill me.”

Snorting, he replied,” Me, a vampire? No, I don’t think so.”

Buffy’s expression changed to concern. “Please tell me you’re joking. Ya know, ha ha, and not another memory altering spell.”

He raised his scared eyebrow. “Spell? Well, I haven’t seen any women with tall black hats as of late.” He got to his feet. He made eye contact with Buffy. “Truth is I don’t know what happened ta me. Very well could be some mojo workin on my noggin. All I know is I woke up outside this spooky cave in the middle of nowhere. Dragged myself through the dessert to find a village. Have no clue how I ended up in bloody good Africa.” He gestured toward Buffy. “Or how you come in. But you must play some important role in my soddin existence cuz I can’t get you outta my head.” He smirked. “Is it just because you get me hard or is there something else going on between us?”

She sighed. “God, Spike, even human and not knowing me you can be a pig.”

“That’s another thing, what’s with the Spike bit? M’ William Shayne.” He dug into his pocket, drudging up his wallet. He pulled out his driver’s license, and handed it to her.

Buffy took the card and examined it. Where had he gotten it? Had to be a fake. Birthdate, 1974. She raised her eyes. “You honestly don’t remember me? Not at all?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, pet. Can’t recall a bloody thing before two months ago.”

Buffy blinked. Why did she have the sudden impulse to cry? This was as bad as not finding him at all. He didn’t remember her. Which meant he didn’t love her. Her hand roamed to her middle. This baby wouldn’t mean anything to him. It wouldn’t even be his to him.

“I gotta get to work,” she heard him say.

“Work? You can’t go to work,” she protested.

“Yes, I can, and I will.”

She snatched his arm. “We have to get to Giles. He can figure this out. He can make this right. Then we’ll go back to Sunnydale and . . .”

Tugging his arm away, he snapped, “Look here, woman, I don’t have to go anywhere with you. I’m happy here. I’ve got a nice flat and a decent job. I don’t need you dragging me back to Sunnyhell.”

Sunnyhell. A tiny bit of hope sparked inside her chest. Somewhere deep inside him still housed ‘her’ Spike. All she had to do was unbury him.

Spike took a few steps away. “I’m late. I just got this job and don’t want to lose it just because I ran into you.”

“What about the reaper guy? He could come back again. I don’t think you’re up to confronting him alone,” she pointed out.

“Look, I don’t know what that was about but . . . I doubt he’ll attack while I’m serving drinks.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. Buffy stormed up to him. She drew back a fist and then let it fly. Her knuckles made contact with his face. His head snapped to the side and he stumbled backwards.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. His hand went to his nose. Then he withdrew his fingers, seeing that they had touched blood. “You made my nose bleed, you bint!”

Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have done that. He was no longer a vampire with super healing powers or strength. No more beating up on him when he pushed her buttons. She added that to her list of slayer rules.

“Sorry, but you gotta learn to not piss off a slayer,” she told him.

He gave her an unconvinced look. “Slayer?”

She frowned. This certainly wasn’t Spike. This was some William Shayne he had created, totally oblivious to anything supernatural.

“Sp- William, I can’t let you go. I . . . I’ve come looking for you all the way from California. I got on a plane for you. I just spent hours on a computer trying to find out where you were. Now I’ll be dammed if I let you walk away!”

Spike stared at her for a long time. He sighed. “Meet me after work. The pub two blocks from here. Six o’clock.”

She nodded. “I’ll be there. On the dot.”

She watched him walk off, feeling as if she were losing something. Something she never really had in the first place.

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