London, 1878

“William?”

Anne’s anxious voice sounded as if from very far away, and he struggled to open his heavy eyelids. “Mother?”

“Oh, thank heavens.” Gentle hands cradled his face, and his mother began to come into focus. “I was so worried!”

“I …” William reached a hand up and took hold of one of hers. “Where am I?”

“You’re safe at home, dear.” Anne kissed him on the forehead. “You’ve had a frightful chill. Doctor Gull didn’t know if you would make it.” He felt her shudder, and he squeezed her hand in comfort.

“I’m not going anywhere, Mother,” he assured her, smiling slightly despite his broken heart. William resolved in that moment to keep his word. Lizzie may be gone, leaving a gaping, aching hole, but he would hold out. For his mother. She had no one else either.

-----

Sunnydale, Present Day

Spike did not show up again for the rest of the week. Neither did William in Buffy’s dreams. They had stopped altogether. Life, however, kept steadily on, causing problems as it went.

Parent-Teacher Night had been a complete disaster. Despite Buffy and her friends’ desperate attempts to keep Joyce and Principal Snyder away from each other, they had had a talk right at the end of the evening, and Buffy was not only grounded forever but under serious threat of expulsion, thanks to not having helped prepare for the evening. As Sheila had also ditched, Willow and Xander had ended up doing most of the work, for which they were now in detention and rather sore at Buffy.

Giles and Ms. Calendar were busy researching both Spike and St. Vigeous, and Buffy helped. Unfortunately, she got so caught up in research on Monday that she missed one and a half classes and got called to Snyder’s office.

He looked positively gleeful. “You were warned, Miss Summers, that any more rule-breaking would result in severe disciplinary tactics,” Snyder gloated. “These are the moments you want to savour. You wish time would stop so that you could live them over and over again. You’re expelled.”

-----

Despite having left the school before the official day ended, Buffy did not return home until the evening. Still in shock, she did not know whether the school office had called her mother or if she had to tell her what had happened. Either way, Buffy could barely bring herself to face her. In the end, the only reason she made her way home was because she finally decided she ought to get the inevitable confrontation over with.

Buffy tried to unlock and open the door as quietly as she could, and let herself into the kitchen. She could hear the murmur of voices in the living room, and decided to try and get upstairs unnoticed. The last thing she wanted was the inevitable confrontation in front of company. As she placed her foot on the first stair, however, she tuned into the conversation when she heard her name.

“So, how long have you known Buffy?” her mother was asking.

“A long time,” was the reply. Buffy thought she might be sick again as she recognised the voice. She charged into the living room, stopping dead at the scene. Spike was sitting back in the armchair, chatting politely with Joyce over mugs of hot drink. Both looked up as she entered the room.

“Oh, there you are, Buffy. You were supposed to be home hours ago.” Although Buffy could tell immediately that her mother was annoyed with her, she could also tell that Joyce didn’t know she was expelled. She didn’t dwell on it, instead she stared at Spike.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a dangerously low voice.

“Your mother invited me in.” Spike smiled infuriatingly at her.

Buffy rounded on Joyce, who spoke before her daughter could. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Buffy. You should have introduced us before -”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” To Spike, she added, “Get out of my house.”

“Buffy!” Joyce looked between the two of them, shocked.

Spike just pointed to the mantle. Buffy saw a bunch of pink roses in one of her mother’s vases. “Those are for you.”

Was he deliberately trying to provoke her? Buffy wondered, before thinking: yes, he was. He was evil now. Of course he would do everything he could to rub her feelings in it.

“Mom,” she said, “Can you give us a moment? Alone?”

“O-of course,” Joyce replied, standing and leaving the room. “Take as long as you need.”

There was a long silence after she left, the two of them just looking at each other. Finally Buffy spoke.

“If you go near my mother again,” she threatened, “I will kill you.”

“Don’t worry, pet. Killing your mum isn’t exactly high on my list of priorities, ‘specially as it would piss you off to no end.” Spike sat back and rested his feet on the coffee table. “Wouldn’ exactly be the best way to get into your -”

“Get into my what, exactly?”

“Good books. Besides, Joyce is nice. She gave me hot chocolate with marshmallows.” He indicated his mug on the table.

Buffy sat down opposite Spike. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought we could talk,” he said, more softly now. He sounded more like the William Buffy knew and she felt her heart speed up.

“About what?” She tried to keep her voice neutral.

Spike shrugged. “Us.”

“There is no ‘us’, Spike. I am not an idiot. I know who you are – what you are,” she corrected.

He gave her one of his searching looks. “That’s the thing. See, you know me, but I really don’t understand you, pet. You’re the Slayer, huh?”

“That would be correct.”

“I was supposed to kill you,” Spike stated matter-of-factly. “That’s what the local vamps want. That was what I wanted too – till I recognised you.”

“Like you killed two other slayers,” Buffy said softly.

He nodded. “Someone’s been doing her homework.” He paused. “Now, maybe you can clear something up for me.”

“You’re going to ask how I’m still alive after a century.” Buffy smiled slightly.

“You always could finish my sentences.” Spike grinned at her.

Buffy swallowed.

“I’m just a regular slayer; I’m not immortal or anything like that. All I know is that months ago I start having these dreams – where I’m somewhere else, somewhen else. If that’s even a word. Then, a few days ago, the vampire you shows up in real life and the dreams stop.” She paused. “Obviously, they weren’t just dreams, but I can’t tell you exactly what they were. There, you have your answer. Now go.”

“That’s all?” Spike was almost gaping at her. “There was no feeling? What about all the things we did together? All the things we said. What about that last night when we made love?”

“None of that means anything now,” Buffy whispered, feeling her heart break as she said the words.

“Like hell it doesn’t!” Spike stood suddenly, his face contorted in anger. “Lizzie -”

“If you must call me by name, it’s Buffy.”

“Buffy. Right,” Spike ground out. “Are you telling me your feelings have changed so much in the last – what – three days, that you’re not even willing to consider--”

“Consider what? Spike, there is nothing to consider. I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation. Why don’t you just try and kill me now, so I can dust you and be done with it?”

“You wouldn’ do it,” he whispered. “And neither would I. Bloody hell, woman, what’s got into you?”

“It’s not me that something’s got into, Spike,” Buffy retorted. “For goodness’ sake, you’re a demon.”

“Oh, I get it.” Spike glared at her. “You don’t think I’m still capable of love.”

“That would be because you’re not.”

He glared at her, fists clenched. “Lizzie, you were the only woman I ever, truly loved! I’ve been with Drusilla for decades, but it’s not the same – she’s not you. I have loved you all these years. I couldn’t stop, and believe me when I say I’ve bloody well tried to! Not even becoming a demon stopped it!”

Buffy remained silent. Inside, she desperately wanted to believe him – in her head she screamed I know, I love you too, let’s work this out, I love you! But before she could voice her desires, her self-preservation kicked in and spoke up: Don’t be an idiot, Buffy. It’s a trick, he’s just trying to get you to trust him so he can kill you. He’s evil.

She opened her mouth at last. “Please leave my house, Spike.”

He looked as if she had slapped him and started to protest, but stopped himself as Joyce entered the room, looking anxious. “I thought I heard shouting. Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” Buffy lied in a quiet voice. “Spike was just leaving. Weren’t you, Spike?”

For a moment, she thought he would not respond, but he slowly turned and opened the front door. “Thanks for the chocolate, Mrs. Summers,” he said over his shoulder and left.

Buffy dropped to her knees and wept.

-----

Joyce didn’t think she had ever seen her daughter cry so hard. Not knowing exactly what was wrong, all she could do was hold her in her arms and murmur empty words of comfort whilst keeping up a steady supply of Kleenex. When Buffy’s sobs finally gave way to soft hiccupping, Joyce carefully dried her face and kissed her on the top of her head. “Boyfriend trouble?” she questioned gently.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Buffy repeated in a thick voice.

“Oh.” Joyce paused. “Well, that’s a relief. He seems a nice young man, but I think he is a little too old for you.”

Buffy let out a dark laugh into a wad of tissues, but Joyce couldn’t see the joke. “You have no idea, Mom.” She looked up at her. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, honey. If you want to talk about it …”

She shook her head vigorously. “I think I just wanna go to bed. It’s been a long week.”

“All right. Would you like some hot ch -”

Buffy almost flinched. “No. Thanks.”

Neither said much else while Buffy got ready for bed, and then Joyce came in to say goodnight. Buffy was falling asleep already. Joyce turned the light out and retreated downstairs.

After washing up, she remembered that she had forgotten to check the messages from that day. There were two about the gallery, and the then the third, recorded that morning, made her gasp in shock.

“Mrs. Summers, this is the Sunnydale High School office. We regret to inform you that your daughter, Buffy, has been expelled from this school. Principal Snyder requests that you come and collect your daughter as soon as possible. Have a nice day.”

-----

When Buffy woke up the next morning, it took a moment for her to remember why she felt so tired and nervous. Then the memories of Spike’s visit and her expulsion came back and she thought she was going to be sick again. Instead, she forced herself to get up as normal, and face her mother.

Every step on the staircase sent a fresh wave of nausea through her, mingled with cold dread. When she came to the bottom, she was nearly hyperventilating and had to take several deep breaths before she entered the kitchen.

Joyce was sitting at the table, her eyes focused on the mug of coffee in front of her. “Morning, Buffy.” She didn’t sound as if she was in a good mood.

“Um, morning, Mom,” Buffy tried. She hovered, unsure what to say. There was no breakfast on the table or cooking. Joyce spoke again.

“I didn’t do any pancakes because I thought you might not be getting up yet.” She paused. “On account of your not having to go to school this morning.”

Buffy sighed with relief. She didn’t have to tell her after all.

Joyce finally looked up at her daughter. “I got a message on the answering machine after you went to bed last night.”

Buffy hung her head, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve let you down. Again.” She let out a muffled sob.

“Oh, honey.” Joyce hurried over and drew Buffy into a hug. Neither of them spoke a word. There seemed to be no words that could describe the whirl of emotions between them.

-----

“I had to come by when I heard,” Giles said before Joyce had even finished opening the door. “How is Buffy?”

She stood aside to let him in. “Buffy is … I’m not sure. I don’t really know what to say to her. Thank you for coming over. I know it will mean a lot to her.”

“Do you think I could talk to her?”

“You can try. I don’t think she would come out of her bedroom for anyone right now. Wait in the living-room a moment, I’ll try and get her downstairs.”

“Honey?” Joyce called into Buffy’s bedroom from halfway up the stairs. “It’s Mr. Giles to see you.”

There was no reply. Joyce sighed and climbed the rest of the stairs. “Buffy, Mr. Giles is downstairs to see you. Will you come down?”

There was a grumbled “Fine” and after a moment Buffy appeared in her bedroom doorway. She followed her mother downstairs, and Giles saw that her eyes were red and she was still in her crumpled pyjamas.

Buffy sat down on the sofa, not looking at either of the adults.

“Buffy?” he said gently, sitting down opposite her and reaching out an arm to touch her shoulder. She flinched away, surprising him.

Joyce sighed. “You’ll probably be more successful if you try the wall,” she told Giles. “Do you want a drink?”

“That would be lovely.”

“Tea?”

“Yes, please. One sugar.”

Joyce moved into the kitchen and put the kettle on. After a long silence in the living room, Buffy finally spoke.

“Guess you’re pleased now.”

“Pleased?” Giles said, confused. “Why on earth would I be pleased that you’re expelled?”

“Now I don’t have school holding me back, I can work for you full time.” Buffy’s voice was strangely bitter.

“Buffy!” For a shocked moment, that was all Giles could think of to say. “I, you, you don’t work for me! And of course I’m not happy about this. Snyder is not being fair, and I will be having words with him.”

“So will I,” Joyce said as she came in with a mug of tea for Giles. “Don’t worry, honey, we won’t let this go without a fight.”

“Don’t bother,” Buffy said, so quietly they had to strain their ears to hear her. “We all know I’ll just get expelled again. And again. It’s all part of who I am.”

“Buffy …” Joyce tried, while Giles simply sat with his mouth hanging open, a stance most unlike him.

“Guess I should just be grateful that I don’t have to sit in another Chem class, and resign myself to the fact that I’m going to be working in the Doublemeat Palace for the rest of my life.”

Giles found his voice and addressed her in his sternest variation. “I won’t hear of it.”

“Buffy, what’s got into you?” Joyce questioned.

“Nothing. I’m just being realistic.” Buffy paused. “You can’t live in a dream world.”

-----

Buffy grimaced as Giles attempted to explain her chemistry work to her. Several weeks had passed since she had been expelled. Giles, who after his attempt to ‘convince’ Snyder had failed, had informed the stubborn principal that he was on strike until Buffy was allowed back at the school, and was teaching her during the day with work Willow brought over. Joyce, meanwhile, was researching other schools in the area despite her daughter’s misgivings.

Although her bitterness about being expelled had diminished somewhat, Buffy found she was still going through mood swings. Some were connected to school, but most of the rest were connected to her recent heartbreak.

She had not told anyone about William/Spike. In all honest truth, she had no idea what she would say. Buffy grieved silently for her dead boyfriend, and every night hoped that she would find an answer, or at least some kind of resolution, that could help her to move on. She wanted to keep up her relationship with Angel, but they had grown distant because of her feelings for William, and Buffy no longer felt much more for him than friendship.

Spike had not shown up again in person, but a week after his visit Buffy had received a parcel in the post. It was anonymous, but she knew perfectly well who sent it as, inside, was the pink dress she had worn when she and William had met. Rather than burning it, which she had briefly considered as an attempt to purge him from her life, she tucked it away safely in the back of her wardrobe.

Every few days a bunch of pink roses would find their way onto her doorstep. Buffy gave them all to the neighbours. Every time she received one of these tokens, she had to forcibly remind herself that Spike was nothing more than William’s walking, talking corpse.

Any and all thought of Spike still made her queasy, and sometimes not even thinking about him did as well. Joyce was starting to worry that Buffy was coming down with some kind of bug. It wasn’t long, however, before Buffy realised that there was more to it than that.

TBC …