Chapter 14
It was completely dark and Buffy lay in bed, listening to the dripping sound of a leak in the room. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness, but she felt calm. The air was heavy and cool, moist. The repetitious rhythm of the drip almost lulled her back to sleep. Then she heard the grinding clink of metal against metal and a flick, and suddenly there was light; a tiny flame that illuminated the sharp angular features of the vampire who’d been next to her the entire time. The tip of his cigarette ignited and he narrowed his eyes as he took a deep drag, pulling crisp white sheets up and over his bare chest.
“You’re awake.”
“Where are we?”
“Downstairs. Here, I’ll get the lights,” he said sleepily and rolled over, using his Zippo to light a few heavy candles on a table near the bed. They lit up the stony walls of his crypt enough to make out their surroundings as well as the bed they were sharing and she then realized they were both naked. “Didn’t think you’d stay. Usually leave right after,” he said with a tentative smile. “Can’t say I’m complainin’.”
He turned on his side to face her, his body tense with restraint as if he wanted to touch her yet he kept a safe distance. She rolled on her side, facing him. “I know this is a dream now and that none of this is happening. So, can the ‘do you remember when’ act because I can’t take it,” she pouted, driving her head into her pillow as she looked up at him.
He pursed his lips and nodded, dragging a hand down his face before he took another drag of his cigarette and spoke conversationally. “So, got your memory back an’ everythin’s peachy in Slayer town, right?”
“You know it isn’t,” she said sadly, sliding her hand across the mattress and wedging it between his torso and the mattress, letting his weight press down on her fingers.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m dead. Why do you care? You can muck up my past as much as you like, won’t make me any less gone.”
She closed her eyes, feeling the sting of tears. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Why? Took ol’ Willie’s virginity. Quite a feat, that,” he chuckled as he exhaled a stream of smoke. “Be honest, how was it? Wasn’ a complete berk, was I?”
She opened her eyes and one corner of her mouth lifted in a playful smile. “You know it was amazing. Different.”
“How so?”
“Well, I know it’s still you but…it was just different. I guess I finally realized what I was missing out on with you.”
“What you wouldn’t let me do,” he said sadly and hesitantly ran his fingers through her hair. “Always wanted that, you know. Just to be with you, love you like you deserved. Wouldn’ ever allow it, though. ‘Cept those last days. Would’ve treated you proper then, but I was happy jus’ holdin’ you.”
“I’m so sorry, Spike,” she said sincerely, looking up at him with bloodshot, teary eyes. “I keep screwing everything up for you and now for William…and these dreams are just rubbing salt in the wounds.”
“Hey,” he said defensively, “I could easily make this a better experience for the both of us. Look, already hard.”
She laughed and rolled into him, wrapping her arms around his torso. “You’re always hard.”
“That I am,” he grinned. “’sides, this is your bloody dream, not mine.”
“I miss you.”
She closed her eyes and let him caress her, let his cool body bring her this borrowed comfort.
“Gonna be hard on him,” he said after a long silence that settled comfortably between them.
“Like it’s easy for me.”
“I’m just sayin’. Poor sod’s never met a girl like you. Know the feelin’.”
“Please don’t talk about it,” she groaned, burying her face in his throat. “Maybe, you know, maybe Giles won’t find me and I can stay with you. With William.”
“Buffy,” he rolled his eyes and lifted her up, holding her by the arms above him. “You’re just torturin’ yourself, luv. These dreams, this entire bloody mission, none of it’s real.”
“The mission is real. William is real,” she said with a wobbly chin. “He’s all I have left of you.”
Spike sighed and wiped her tears away. “Yeah, he’s real. It’s a nice thought, but it won’t last. You know that.”
“I know,” she whispered, lowering her body onto his again. “Why did you have to die?”
He chuckled. “You’re kiddin’, right? Who’s the one that gave me the trinket to wear?”
“Shut up,” she laughed, tracing the lines of his abdomen with her fingers. “Champion.”
“Don’ call me that. Sounds queenie.”
“You like it.”
“Do me a favor,” he said softly, unable to look her in the eyes.
“Anything.”
“Tell him. Tell him everythin’. He may be a stuffy prick but I know ‘im better than you. He’ll believe you because he loves you.”
“I can’t tell him,” she cried. “How can I tell him?”
“You can. Do it for me,” he pleaded softly, holding her hand in his. “I deserve to know.”
She nodded and wrapped her body tightly around his, not wanting to let go. She knew she wouldn’t see him again. “Ok. If Giles finds me…”
“No,” he said firmly. “Don’ be a coward. Tell him. He loves you because he’s me. That won’t change, not ever. He’s tasted you now an’ ‘es completely buggered,” he laughed, smoothing down her hair.
They were silent for a while, basking in the feel of each other, or rather, Buffy was basking in dream Spike, but it was still just as comforting as if he were flesh and blood.
“Go to sleep, pet,” he whispered. “I’ll stay here until you do.”
“Not tired.”
“You’re yawning.”
“Not tired! Don’t want sleep.”
“Cave Buffy disagrees. Go to sleep.” He kissed her forehead sweetly and rubbed her back, smiling against her cheek when he felt her sink into him with a contented sigh.
“I am a little tired,” she said with another yawn, closing her eyes. Spike stroked her skin gently, breathing against her hair as he soothed her, calmed her, and as her body grew heavy from the pull of slumber, she finally fell asleep in the comfort of his arms.
William and Buffy were sitting in the library some time after breakfast, excitedly retelling their evening at the Underwoods’ to Anne. The appropriate parts of the evening, that was.
“So, Cecily comes up to me and Elizabeth—”
“And she’s totally trying to look like she doesn’t care—”
“And I said, ‘Cecily, you remember Elizabeth, don’t you? Isn’t she the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?’”
“And oh my God, Mrs. Pratt, you should have seen her face.”
“She was as red as a tomato.”
“And kinda twitchy.”
“And then she says, and you won’t believe that Cecily Underwood could say something like this, she says, ‘I would think that a beautiful and well mannered woman wouldn’t need a man to fish for compliments from strangers.’ Really haughty, right?”
“And I’m totally freaking out and wanting to say something completely rude—”
“But I stop her—”
“But William stops me because he can tell I’m about to like, choke this girl.”
“And then, then!” William wiped at his eyes as he started laughing, “Jonathon Tate comes over and you know how he’s got that wandering eye, even though Cecily’s been after him for months, right? Well, he saunters over like the King of England and says, ‘No one likes a jealous witch, Cecily.’ And then signs Elizabeth’s dance card!”
“And she just about blew a gasket, but I’m trying to stay prim and proper ‘cause y’know, I’m a guest and all but I’m about to die laughing when her mouth starts flapping like a fish out of water.”
“The entire party stops what they’re doing, Mother. I swear to you. They all turn around and look at Cecily like she’s got egg on her face.”
“More like a turd on her face.” Anne and William looked over at Buffy curiously. “I-I mean, uh…mud. Mud on her face.”
“Right,” William continued without losing his stride, “so, Margaret and Peter start cracking up. Always liked those two.”
“Was Margaret the one with the peacock feathers?”
“No, that was Sarah. Margaret was the one with the diamonds.”
“Oh yeah! God, she looked like a DeBeers ad.”
“DeBeers?”
“It’s an uh…American diamond distributor.”
“Children!” Anne shouted, her head swimming as they’d bombarded her ears for the better part of an hour. William and Buffy looked at her innocently. “Take a breath, please!”
William and Buffy frowned, sinking into their chairs. They hadn’t even gotten to the part where Buffy challenged the men to a game of darts and not only wiped the floor with them but cleaned out their pockets when the betting began. William still couldn’t get over her aim or how she’d shocked the entire party with her boldness. Christ, she was magnificent! All confidence and not giving a tick about anything. And completely his, he wanted to remind everyone.
“We’re just excited, Mother. Sorry to monopolize the conversation.”
“It’s all right,” she chuckled with weary eyes. “I’m old. I can’t keep up with you young people anymore.”
The butler walked in and bowed. “I’m sorry to intrude but there is a visitor here to see Miss Elizabeth.”
Anne and William shared a curious expression when Buffy sat up straight with a gasp. “Who would come here looking for me?”
“Let’s find out,” William said with a slight smile and rose from his seat, offering his hand to her.
“I don’t want to see anyone,” she said frantically, having a very good idea who was at the door. She panicked. Oh, God, this was it. She felt her chest constrict and couldn’t breathe.
“Nonsense, Elizabeth,” Anne interjected. “What if it’s someone who’s been looking for you all this time? Go to the door at once.”
“Come on,” William said softly, his hand still extended. He tilted his head when he took in her frightened state. She’d recoiled in her seat and her chest was heaving, her eyes darting around the room nervously. “Buffy, come with me.”
Swallowing her nerves she nodded and placed her hand in his, letting him help her up from her seat. They walked downstairs and Buffy felt tears welling in her eyes, feeling the other shoe dropping as she saw who was waiting for her in the foyer. He looked at her with sympathy in his eyes, a solemn sadness overwhelming his features. “Elizabeth, thank God you’re all right!”
William spared a glance at Buffy, feeling a strange need to protect her. She was crying, obviously frightened of this man though he seemed perfectly harmless. He held her hand to bring her some comfort and said to the man, “And who are you?”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” he stammered. “Where are my manners? My name is Rupert Giles. I am Miss Summers’ guardian. And you’re…William Pratt,” he said with a strange smile, considering the man who’d been a pain in his ass for years, the man who drank his best scotch and left boot prints in his bathtub, the vampire he’d tried to kill, the vampire who’d saved the world. Seeing him in this state was shocking, and a little hilarious, but mostly intriguing to see him carrying himself like a man of stature, cordial and well mannered though that quirking, curious eyebrow that was always suspicious hadn’t changed a bit, aside from the lack of scarring. Fascinating.
“I see,” William said cautiously. He turned to the butler and said, “Will you please escort Mr. Giles to the parlor and fetch him something to drink? We’ll join you in a moment,” he said to Giles, guiding Elizabeth down the hall to speak with her.
“Elizabeth?”
She was shaking, trying not to cry any more and gathering her strength. So soon. Too soon, he’d arrived, he’d found her and everything she’d ever wanted was going to go away, she was sure of it now. “I remember him.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I should speak with him alone.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said sternly. “You’re a nervous wreck,” he continued when she made move to reject him.
“I’ll be fine,” she inhaled, gaining her resolve. “I’ll call for you if I need you.”
“All right,” he agreed reluctantly once she’d obviously made up her mind. “I’ll just be down the hall.”
She kissed him abruptly, needing the comfort of his touch in case it was the last time, almost losing her bravado when he clung to her. “I love you, William.”
“I love you, too,” he said with a furrowed brow, confused by her mood but submitting to her release when she suddenly left him standing in the hallway and walked to the parlor.
She closed the door behind her and slowly walked towards a couch and sat down across from Giles. “I guess the jig is up.”
“Buffy,” he said in relief and walked over to embrace her, frowning when she merely sat still and dropped his arms. “I was so worried about you. Willow said you might have been damaged when you came through. And Spike, my God he’s…” he stopped abruptly when Buffy broke down in tears.
“Please don’t make me leave him,” she pleaded, looking up at her watcher in despair.
“Oh, my,” he sighed, removing his glasses and sitting next to her on the sofa. “I take it things have already progressed between the two of you.”
“I didn’t know,” she hiccupped, “I lost my memory a-and…he found me and took me here and we fell in love and then just last night everything came back and I don’t know what to do and I love him so much, Giles.”
“Shhh,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders when she turned hysteric. He’d never seen her cry like this, not even when her mother died. However worried and irritated he might have been with her when she leapt through the portal, he couldn’t help but feel for the girl who’d been like a daughter to him, no matter how many times he’d failed her. She was the strongest person he knew and to see her like this was most upsetting. He couldn’t help but try and be there for her now, after so many times he’d let her down in the past. “It’s all right, Buffy. Take a deep breath.”
“I didn’t know, Giles. I didn’t know who I was or what my name was…and William just found me.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Almost two weeks,” she said with a sniffle.
“Two? Well, that’s torn it. I had hoped it wouldn’t be so long.” Giles sat silently for a while, his eyes darting around the room and then settling on his untouched cup of tea that was brought to him earlier. He took a sip and closed his eyes, licking his lips as he set the cup back down. “Oh, that’s the stuff,” he said quietly. “Buffy,” he began cautiously.
“I know, Giles,” she sighed, wiping at her eyes. “I know what you’re going to say. I can’t stay here. I know.”
He nodded solemnly and took another sip of his tea. “Good.” His hands rubbed nervously against one another. He didn’t like being the bearer of bad news, especially when it came to his charge but it had to be said. “As long as you’ve remained in this house, it shouldn’t be too difficult to fix.”
“Fix?”
“You’ve already altered history, too much of it, I’m afraid. We can’t risk leaving without repairing what’s been done.”
Buffy’s eyes widened as worry set in. “What are you going to do?”
“I rather hoped I wouldn’t have to, but I have the components necessary for the Tabula Rasa.”
“You…you want to wipe away their memory of me.” She didn’t ask this, she merely stated it as realization set in. Everything she and William had shared would be forgotten. How was that fair to him? How was any of this fair to William? Messing with people’s minds and memories was like playing God, and she’d been a victim of that kind of magic before. She knew how violating it was.
A selfish, sick part of her wanted William to remember her. Everything that had happened between them was too special to her to ever think that he’d go the rest of his life never knowing that she’d loved him. He’d go through all that pain, a century of bloodshed, a century or more of trying to be accepted by his sire and grandsire, only to come to Sunnydale and fall in love with a girl who’d never know what he’d sacrifice to prove himself to her. What she’d give up for him to do it all over again.
She really, really hated her life.
“This is the only way, I’m afraid. Too much has changed already, Buffy.”
“I just don’t understand why Spike has to always get the crap end of the stick. It’s not fair.”
Giles smiled a bit and placed an encouraging hand on her back. “You’re upset because you love him. I understand that now.” He smoothed her hair down and brought his hand back to his lap. “You never should have seen him, not when you know he’s—”
“Dead. I know.”
“Spike was a good man.” Buffy looked at him incredulously and Giles lifted a hand in defeat. “I know, I said it. You and I both have been guilty of looking at the world in black and white. But if there’s one thing that Spike taught me, it’s that there are no absolutes. Life isn’t about good and evil and ne’er the twain shall meet. Life is about possibilities, about proving everyone wrong for the sake of good. If you were to stay here, if we didn’t perform this spell, Spike might never become the man we all knew. Don’t cheapen his sacrifice, his redemption, because you weren’t able to tell him how you felt before he died.”
She exhaled slowly and wrapped her arms around her waist. “He asked me to marry him.”
“Oh, Buffy,” he pulled her against him and rubbed her arms. “I’m so sorry. At least you will have the memory of the time you shared together. He’ll never need to know, never need to remember the heartache of losing you.”
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s my awesome burden to bear until I die. Lucky me,” she sighed dejectedly. “What about the urn, the council?” She just wanted to change the subject, as soon as possible.
“We’ve already lost so much time that I fear dealing with the Council will only set us back further. I think the best course of action is to retrieve it ourselves. It shouldn’t take more than a day.”
“And then we leave.”
“Assuming everything here goes well, yes.”
“I hope you’ve got backup.”
“For what?”
“We sort of…went to a party last night. And then there are all the maids and…the doctor who helped me when I arrived.”
“Well,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “that certainly makes things a bit more difficult.”
“Can you still do the spell?”
“Yes, I can, well, I assume I can. We’ll just have to wipe the entire bloody town’s memories to be safe.”
“How long will that take?”
“Buffy,” he said with concern when she’d ignored her feelings to get into the mode she was most comfortable with; commanding, assessing and laying out plans. He admired her ability to be strong during a crisis, but he knew this had to be torture for her to endure. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She laughed humorlessly. “Oh, I’m just great, Giles. Fantastic.”
He pursed his lips and finished off his tea. “I’ll perform a sleeping spell first, just to make sure everyone will be affected. Then we’ll begin the Tabula Rasa. You’ll need to go through the house and make sure there’s nothing left behind that might trigger their memory of you. Clothing, notes, jewelry, anything you can think of.”
She nodded. “So, I have the rest of the day with him, and that’s it.”
“I think it would be best. Should I stay and explain myself?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’ll take care of that. Everyone here usually goes to bed by nine so you can come back around then. I’ll meet you outside at nine. If I’m running late, start the sleeping spell without me.”
“All right.”
They both stood and walked to the parlor doors and were greeted by a worried William who’d been pacing the halls, waiting to be called. “Is everything all right?” he asked, his eyes roaming over Elizabeth to make sure no part of her had been harmed in some way.
“Yes, we’re fine, William. Mr. Giles was just leaving.”
Giles smiled sadly at him, suddenly aware that this would be the last time he’d see him as well. “I’m terribly sorry for intruding without notice, but you can imagine how worried I’d been.”
“Of course,” William nodded. “Are you not staying, then?”
“Uh…”
“Giles has a room in town,” Buffy interrupted. “It’s already paid for so, he’s going back there.”
“I see,” William said slowly. “Pardon me for asking, but what is going on?”
“I think there’s a lot we need to talk about.” Buffy linked her fingers with William’s and nodded to Giles. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Good day,” he bowed and quickly exited, leaving the couple behind.
“Elizabeth, are you all right?”
She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t see that tilted head of his that had no idea what she was about to do to him, those imploring eyes of his that would make her want to stay forever. Instead she tugged on his hand and asked, “Where can we go for a while to talk in private?”
With a deep breath of resignation, William escorted them outside to the gardens, where he knew they could speak uninterrupted, his worry turning into dread. She seemed scarily calm, though her hands were trembling and the fact that she’d yet to look him in the eye only managed to make him feel worse. He had an awful, painful feeling that Elizabeth would soon be taken away from him.