Epilogue
Spike stared into the glass as he nursed yet another drink. He hadn’t been able to sleep, to hunt, to kill, to drink blood, anything since that last night with her. Her huge eyes haunted him and knew he had to do something, anything, to make this go away.
He turned to the bartender, and made an inquiry, then set off to the address.
~*~*~*~*~
“So, you want it to go away?”
Spike nodded. “I want you to wipe my memories and hers too, of all that happened that day between us.”
The mage nodded thoughtfully. “What you ask will come at a great cost.”
Spike dangled the emerald necklace in front of the old crone, who grinned toothlessly.
“Yes, that will pay the price. But, you understand that magic, while it can distort and bend memories, cannot alter fundamental truths?”
He shrugged. “Will I remember? Will she?”
She shook her head. “Not as you do now. The events will shift and a new reality will emerge. But there will be echoes that cannot be erased, for both of you. You understand this?”
He nodded. “If that’s the best you can do, then just bloody well do it.”
He paid the price and the charm swirled through the air . . .
Spike found himself on a rooftop, staring down at the poofster saving some damsel in distress. He chortled. Soon he’d have the ring again. He was looking forward to the torture though, including telling his grandsire about Slutty screwing some college boy. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
Buffy found herself crying in Willow’s arms as she explained how Parker had dismissed their night as nothing more than fun before the bleached pain in her ass had attacked. Taking the ring from him had been the only high point in her day. She sniffled and grabbed another tissue. Maybe Parker would realize he’d made a mistake and call soon.
. . . erasing the specifics from their minds, but deep in the recesses, the echoes lingered on.
The End.