18. Reckoning.

Goodness shall be repaid with goodness, and
Evil repaid with evil, never fear, the day of
Reckoning will come soon.
Chinese proverb

Truth is truth to the end of reckoning.
Measure for Measure, act v, sc 1




He didn’t think he’d ever been so tired in his life. The emotional turmoil alone would have been enough, couple that with nearly twenty-four hours in a plane, then adding in the considerable time changes, Rupert counted himself luck he was out of bed at all.

It had been surreal. Giles woke up thinking he’d dreamt the whole thing, only to find himself staring not at his own bedroom ceiling, but at subflooring. Where in hell am I? Was quickly followed by the abrupt realization that he was in a basement. Right, then hadn’t been a dream at all.

He’d flown halfway round the globe just to make a bloody phone call and come right back.

Wincing a bit at the stiffness of his aching muscles, Giles wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep. But he had no idea of the time and no doubt Spike was in need of his bed.

Better he get up now anyway. He had to call London before too much time passed. Travers expected him yesterday, had known Giles had gotten on a plane and probably his welcoming committee had reported on his subsequent immediate turn around. He was a little surprised that Travers hadn’t already called him.

Finally getting up, Giles located his cell phone and harrumped at it when if flashed ‘you have six messages’ at him. No doubt every last one was from the Council. Giving in to the unavoidable, Giles hit play and listened while Travers ranted.


******************************** ******************************


Sleep had been elusive. Truth was, she didn’t want to sleep. Sleep meant nightmares she couldn’t control. Sleep meant reliving it all over again. It was hard enough being awake with the memories, shouldn’t have to fight them off while sleeping.

She’d stayed awake for hours, just watching Dawn sleep. Listening while everyone in the house settled down for the night. It was nice, being able to do that. But being alone was hard too, because those memories kept surfacing. They were hard to face. So she fought against sleeping, until in the late hours of the night, long past midnight, when everything was still and silent, after she heard the back door open then close, when she knew he was home did she close her eyes.

His footsteps had been nearly silent as he ascended the stairs, but she could hear them, could feel him coming closer.

Pretending to be asleep when he opened the door to check up on them hadn’t worked. She hadn’t really expected to fool him anyway. Hadn’t expected him to let it slide either.

“Know you’re awake. You okay kitten?” His voice was low, full of concern laced with a tiny bit of humor.

“Can’t sleep.” Her voice was equally low, not wanting to disturb the teenager slumbering next to her.

“Can’t or won’t?” He countered, calling her on her avoidance of the truth.

“Okay, won’t. Don’t want to, I don’t want to hurt Dawn if I get caught in another bad dream.” Which was enough of the truth to satisfy him, despite the fact they both knew the other reasons.

“I’ll watch now, if you want.” She almost responded negatively, like before, but stopped herself in time.

“You’d do that for me?” Such a silly thing but it went a long way to making her feel safe and comfortable.

“Yeah. Don’t even have to ask really. Should know I’d do it.” God he sounded so young and unsure. Buffy wondered for the first time if this was what he might have been like before Drusilla turned him.

Of their own volition, Buffy’s eyes closed again, this time she yawned before speaking, “I’d like it if you stayed.”

Spike settled into the chair they’d moved last night from the wiccans’ room kicking off his boots before answering her. The last thing she heard before her brain shut down was “sure thing kitten. You just rest.”


******************************* *******************************


He’d stayed awake like she’d asked, watching over both of them. There’d been more than a few of these – him guarding over Dawn night after night. Only thing different was . . . hell.

She’d asked him for a favor. Asked him to stay and watch over her. Trusted him to do it. Well. Didn’t expect that. He wondered if this was because of her time away or because she’d been leading up to this before she jumped. Didn’t matter. Either way was fine. But damned if it didn’t feel good.

Lacing his hands behind his head, Spike slouched down, prepared for a long night.

The first nightmare didn’t hit until the sun was rising, but it seemed to be the trigger. By the time Rupert was waking up two floors below them, Spike was stretched out in the middle of the bed, Dawn curled up with her knees in the middle of his back and Buffy clasped firmly in his arms.

Twice he’d had to pull her clawed fingers away from her sister’s flesh and once from his own. Both he and Buffy slept fitfully. Every time she twitched he moved to soothe her, humming low in his chest.


******************************* *******************************


Dawn had no idea what woke her up, but before she opened her eyes she thought that the fact she was curled up next to a cold purring lion might be the reason she was now awake.

Opening her eyes didn’t help either, until she was awake enough to realize the big purring kitty cat in bed with her wore only black. Ooooohhhhkkkaaayyy. No kitty. Just Spike. Who purrs. Spike purrs. Dawn’s giggle nearly erupted into full blown laughter when she realized the blackmail potential of this information.

Holding onto her laughter, Dawn got up and started her day.


******************************* *******************************


Tara had laid in bed for hours unable to sleep. It was weird sleeping next to Willow, who was unresponsive and totally out of it. What was strange was the idea currently gripping her. She didn’t want Willow awake and aware. The anger that had been simmering for almost a day was nearing the boiling point.

The eruption was not going to be pretty. Willow had stolen time from her, exactly what Glory had done. Not on the same scale, but still, the effect was the same. Her mind had been tampered with, her thoughts taken over by someone else. There was absolutely no comfort in the fact the person violating her was her girlfriend. If anything it made what Willow’d done worse.

It made sleeping next to her difficult.

So it was kind of understandable that she snapped at Giles when he knocked on their bedroom door around eleven.

It was so out of character that Giles was taken aback. Tara had apologized through the door, asking Giles to give her a little bit more time.

Her request actually fell in with Giles’ natural inclination, so he’d agreed then suggested, after asking where Spike was, that they wait until the vampire woke.


******************************* *******************************


After an hour or so of internal debate, Giles had gone back to his own apartment. He needed a shower and clean clothing. And since none of the inhabitants of the house were stirring, he figured it wouldn’t matter one way or another.

Every one of them was exhausted beyond measuring.


******************************* *********************************


Spike finally woke up just before three. Dawn was long gone, but Buffy was still curled up next to him. Her head was tucked underneath his, hands between them. Warm breath wafted across his neck and Spike realized he hadn’t been this warm in . . . well, decades. It was just gorgeous, lovely . . . he’d give almost anything to be able to have this all the time. But that was a fantasy he wasn’t going to allow himself.

Rolling away from her, Spike ignored her sleepy whimpers of protest. Oh yeah, he wanted to go right back to her arms, but he wouldn’t. At least not yet.

Maybe soon.


******************************* *******************************


Wasn’t long after five when Giles made a round of phone calls, telling everyone to gather at the Summers’ house, because he wanted to wake Willow.

His announcement was met with an astounding lack of enthusiasm.


******************************* *******************************


Everyone was assembled, sitting in various placed in the living room. Willow’s still form was perched in the armchair, having been carried down earlier by Xander.
“Tara undo the binding please.” Giles requested while noting the girl keeping her distance.

Getting up from her spot on the floor, Tara moved behind Willow. Chanting briefly in a soft undertone, she then made a motion with her hands and immediately Willow slumped forward a small noise escaping her.

They waited watching the redhead come back to herself. It took no more than ten minutes by the clock, but to each one of them it was either far too long or far too short.

Opening her eyes the first person Willow saw was absolutely the last one she wanted to. Giles was standing with his back to the fireplace, his eyes intent on her. “Giles? Why are you . . I thought you went back to England?”

“Apparently events transpired here that required my immediate attention.”

Uhoh. Big words and frosty tone. Not of the good. Her eyes flicked around, looking for some help. Nope. None there. Dawn’s face was grim, Xander looked confused, Anya was curious and Spike looked pissed off. Where was Tara? “Tara?”

“Right here Willow.” Her girlffriend’s voice came from right behind her sounding strong and steady.

“Hey baby, what’s going on?” Willow was genuinely confused. Giles should be in London, why was he back?

No one answered her, until Spike shoved away from the wall he was leaning against. Sharing a look with Giles, he moved into the kitchen. He was back quickly, on arm behind him. And following him was . . . Willow’s eyes bugged out and her mouth dropped open.

“Buffy?” She cried out, moving to get up from her chair, when Tara’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Oh my gods it worked! When? Where did you come from? Oh goddess I did it.”

Her babbling died off when she realized she was the only one excited. “Guys, what’s wrong?”

Giles cleared his throat, preparing to speak when Tara’s voice broke the sudden silence. “We know what you did Willow. All of it.”

“Tara? What do you mean you know? A note of rising hysteria entered her voice, but Willow couldn’t help it.

Giles finally spoke. “Yes Willow, we know. “ he paused, gathering his thoughts. This wasn’t an inquisition, at least not yet. “Almost all of it. What were you thinking?”

“What was I thinking?” Willow couldn’t believe this. “What was I thinking? I was thinking that my best friend was trapped in a hell dimension and no one was worried about getting her back. I was thinking that I would rescue her, because no one else was.” Willow’s voice gained in anger and defensive outrage. How dare they do this, don’t they know I did it for Buffy? To help Buffy? “I was thinking I could rescue her.”

“Right, Red and did you think about the bloody consequences?” Spike couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“What consequences? Actually getting Buffy back? Yeah, I thought about them” the sarcasm she flung at him was biting.

“No Willow. The other ones. The consequences of opening a major portal. The consequences of going against the natural laws, Willow – those consequences. “ Giles’ tone was no less biting than hers.

“Yeah. I thought it would be okay.”

“Did you? Did you have a plan on how to close the portal? Or a back-up in case something went wrong?”

Giles held up a hand for silence when it looked to become a free-for-all after Xander started to defend Willow.

Tara’s low voice was again the one to break the silence, “what about the Rede Willow, you know, do what you will, an’ it harm none?”

The only one to remain completely silent was Buffy, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk. The urge to blurt out just where Willow had pulled her from was overwhelming, it was practically screaming itself in her head. Her unconscious hand fidgeting got so frantic Spike had to reach out to pull her hands apart. The look she shot him was half resentful and half regretful.

“Willow the forces you invoked were extraordinarily powerful, but, and this is a big but, you were unable to control them. The portal was open and unprotected for an unknown amount of time. You were all knocked out by the force of the energies emanating from it.”

“Gee, Giles, you make it sound like I didn’t know what I was doing.” Willow almost snarled at him.

“I have to assume you really didn’t.” Giles the kindly Englishman was gone, replaced with a much scarier Ripper-in-tweed. “You attempted to harness powers you had no business dabbling with. Your execution of the spell, was, as most of your efforts, severely lacking. You have no regard for the laws of nature or of magic and frankly, I’m appalled that you tried something of this magnitude.” He snapped out every word like a whip across her back.

“Clearly, while you may be quite powerful, you are still a child and lack the required maturity to perform such magics.”

Willow rocketed to her feet. “I lack maturity? Well at least I haven’t lost my nerve to use my power coz one spell went wrong like some people!”

“You arrogant little girl. You have no idea what you’ve done. No idea at all.” Giles’ tone was both condescending and regretful. “Don’t think for one second I lost my nerve. I’ve at least got the sense to weigh my actions against the consequences. You haven’t even got that.”

“I’ll show you consequences.” Willow’s eyes flared black, but Giles countered with a flick of his wrist and Willow was surrounded by a soft bluish light.

“Don’t. You’ve no idea. You arrogant . . . you think because you can call up that much power its that simple to harness it – to control it. Its no simple matter – it takes years of training and practice. Two things you clearly lack.” Giles flicked his wrist again freeing Willow. “Magic isn’t always about the raw power. It’s about knowing when and how to use it. And just because you can call up that much power doesn’t mean you should.”

“How can you say that? You don’t want Buffy back? You can’t stand here and tell me you aren’t happy she’s here.” Willow wasn’t listening to him at all.

“You have no idea how I feel about Buffy being back. How any of us feels. But you haven’t a clue about how she came back and I wouldn’t’ve wanted that ever.” Giles’ voice grew soft as he continued “even at the cost of having her back.”

“Wasn’t right, what you did. Not to me or Tara or Buffy.” Dawn’s voice cut through the tension. “Buffy shouldn’t have had to dig her way out.”

It took a moment, but Dawn’s meaning finally penetrated Willow’s self-absorption “oh gods I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Didn’t mean it? Too late for that now isn’t it?” was Dawn’s response.
[A/N: I’m having so much fun writing this, you have no idea. The title comes from the bard, Romeo and Juliet, act 5, scene 3. Quotes are as attributed, disclaimers still apply (but gods I wish they didn’t – just for a little while – coz, I so would have fired a few of the writers).]

Previously: Giles gave Willow what for about playing with magics she can’t control. Spike encountered the aftermath of something big, messy and unknown. Life, such as it is in Sunnydale, goes back to normal.

19. Death’s pale flag is not advanced there.

Death cancels everything but truth,
And strips a man of everything but genius and virtue.
William Hazlitt, “Lord Byron, The Spiirt of the Age”

Death is a shadow that always follows the body.
14th century English proverb



Absolutely nothing got resolved the other night. Not one blessed thing. Giles had the sinking sensation that he’d not reached Willow at all. That what he’d said had gone in one ear and out the other. Which offered no comfort at all.

After Spike had relayed his information about the bodies stashed at the foot of Glory’s tower, Giles had to admit that the very distinct possibility existed that something had made it through the portal. Another thing that didn’t make him overjoyed.

Still, it would be better if he had more information about what ritual or rituals Willow had actually used before he tried to narrow things down.

Right now, though, there appeared to be little chance of that happening.


******************************* ******************************


Spike had watched the interplay between Giles and Willow and held his tongue. Which had been an exercise in patience itself. Not a sign of remorse had crossed her features, even after Dawn had blurted out where Buffy had re-awakened.

Oddly enough the Slayer hadn’t spoken at all. And when he’d asked her about it later, after he’d returned from patrol, she’d just said “there wasn’t anything I could say.”

That he didn’t believe, but for once he’d let it go. She wasn’t in a talking mood, at least not that moment. Sooner or later, he’d get the truth of her feelings from her.

Had he pressed the issue like Buffy had expected him too, Spike might’ve been even more perturbed with Willow.


******************************* *******************************


The truth was getting harder to avoid. It was getting harder and harder to bite her tongue and not tell them where she’d been. She had a feeling Spike might’ve guessed the partial truth, because he was making an extra effort to be nice to her.

When Giles had been lecturing Willow, she’d had to keep biting the inside of her cheeck to keep her mouth shut.

She didn’t want them to know. Didn’t want Dawnie to know. It would only hurt more.

After they’d shouted at each other, Willow, sullen, angry and not in the least bit remorseful, had stomped up the steps to her room. None of them had known what to say, even Xander silent for once.

Tara and Spike had shared a look that spoke volumes about how neither one had expected any better. Buffy had drifted into the kitchen behind the other two just listening to their conversation. She’d had no objection when Spike said he was patrolling alone again and she just waved at the others when they left.

Buffy knew she should be making an effort to care more about . . . well about everything, but she just didn’t have the energy. Not even enough to go through the motion of being okay.

But it hadn’t even been a week or at least she thought so.


******************************* *******************************

Three days after they’d woken Willow, Giles cornered the redhead in the Magic Shop. “Willow I’d like to ask you some questions, if I may.”

His voice startled her. The only reason she was here now was because she thought he was at his apartment. Damn. Guess I should talk to him.

“Would you mind going over exactly what you did, and what methods you used to bring Buffy back?” Giles figured that if he didn’t place a judgment on her actions or mood he’d get more information from her.

“What is it you want to know?” She was wary, eyeing him closely.

“Just start from the beginning.” He smiled, thinking that this wasn’t going to be any easier than the other night.

Still unsure of his motives, Willow launched into an account of her actions. Quickly forgetting her audience, she began babbling in her excitement over finding the right ritual during a search of Celtic gods. Giles thanks his foresight in using a hand-held recorder, because Willow was going on so fast that he’d nearly missed it.

“ . . . and so I thought invoking the power of Ceridwen’s Cauldron would work best. But whhhoooo, trying to find a pure white bullhide was a real pain in the butt, until I found a coven in Ireland that had no problem selling me one.”

“And Buffy was supposed to re-appear inside the bullhide, ssssoooo I’m not really sure what happened there . . . “

Giles closed his eyes. Great gods above. Of all the deities to invoke, she had to pick the Celts. The Celts, who’s sense of whimsy and justice often didn’t quite mesh, the Celts, who reveled in bloodplay like no other set of deities. No doubt it was they that . . . his musings stopped short however, when he registered her next words.

“The blood of an untouched woman – which was fine, coz Tara’s never been, well, touched by a man, and the blood of the Key. So I had both of them drink a tea I made with Lethe’s Bramble.”

His blood was running cold now. Lethe’s Bramble, when ingested improperly, could lead to coma or death. If Willow had given either of the two girls too much they could’ve died. And blithely she sat before him, discussing this like it was all some bloody cute child’s game.

He had the chilling thought that he’d never really known this side of Willow and was equally certain that he didn’t want a further acquaintance with her either.


******************************* *******************************


They’d barely spoken for the last three days. Which was hard, since they were still sleeping in the same room, in the same bed. But Tara couldn’t get past the anger or the disappointment.

Willow had violated her - her trust, her love, her mind and her body. She felt cheap and used, like she didn’t matter. Like her thoughts and emotions didn’t count at all with her girlfriend. What kind of person did that make her – what kind of person did that make Willow?

Sooner or later, Tara knew the anger would need a voice, and she and Willow would have to talk. Thing was, she had no idea how to bring any of this up without screaming. And that wasn’t like her, not at all.

Her other concern was Buffy. She was worried about the other girl. She kept finding Buffy in various rooms crying or just staring at nothing. She wasn’t eating much of anything and Buffy barely spoke. Maybe if she talked to Spike or Giles they’d have an idea or two about how to help Buffy.

She had a feeling neither man would have a suggestion about Willow.


******************************* *******************************

Spike too, had noticed Buffy’s distance and lack of eating. Girl burned calories like no one else, and could, when the mood struck her, out-eat a teamster. But she had no desire to do so lately, which concerned him.

Standing at the open fridge looking for blood he knew he’d left in there just last night, Spke’s temper got the best of him.

“Niblet!” He roared through the house. “What the bleeding hell have you done to m’blood?”

“Why are you yelling?” Dawn’s voice came from the living room. Spike’s shout had drawn the other three that were home into the kitchen.

Shirtless and agitated, Spike slammed shut the refrigerator door. “Where . . . is . . . my . . . blood?”

“I put it in the freezer.”

“What the fuck for?” was his snarled question.

“Because its hot as hell out and I thought it would be like having an ice pop or a slurpee” was her completely unexpected reply.

Took the wind right out of his sails.

Both Tara and Buffy suppressed giggles, but at a shared look, they broke out into genuine laughter. Dawn flounced back into the living room, while Spike stood there speechless.

When he got over his aggravation, he realized it was the first real laughter Buffy had since she came back.

He could live with Dawn messing with him, if it made her smile, much less laugh.


******************************* *******************************

Tara’s good mood only lasted a few minutes. She’d gone right back upstairs, while Buffy stayed with Dawn. Once up in her room, Tara was right back to thinking about the situation with Willow. Didn’t really matter, until she talked with Willow nothing would get near being resolved. Problem was, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted a resolution.

Did she still love Willow?

Not even sure of the answer to that question, Tara went through the motions of putting clean clothes away and getting the dirty ones ready for laundry.

Did she love Willow?

Did she like Willow?

Did she trust Willow?

Going around and around this wasn’t helping at all. Maybe she should stop thinking and just get through the rest of the day focused on something else. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything else on her mind.


******************************* *******************************


Another night cleaning up after the really messy whatever-it-was had Spike frustrated. Having yet to even get a glimpse of this thing they had absolutely no information on it. He’d thought about asking Buffy if she wanted to come with him, but one look at her tired eyes and bony arms, he’d stopped that idea in its tracks.

Instead he’d watched while she went up the stairs to bed then he’d gone out on his own.

It was poker night anyway. Maybe one of the demons had some info.

Hours later he was no closer to finding out what it was, but he was richer by six hundred dollars, which he’d gotten in exchange for his kittens. Stuffing the money into the household expense jar Tara had going in the kitchen, Spike headed upstairs to check on the girls.

He’d tried to sleep in his own bed last night or yesterday morning, only to head back up to Buffy’s room when he heard her crying in her sleep. Dawn was sleeping in her own bed, while the two wiccans were up and talking, rather heatedly, he noticed as he walked past their door.

Which left Buffy wide awake, sitting on her bed, Mr. Gordo in her lap and pillows piled around her. He stuck his head in her door, a question on his lips, “fancy some ice cream?”

She looked at him. “What kind?”

“Uh, got peanut butter cup and chocoloate chip cookie dough, but if you want something else, I’ll get it.” Anything she wanted.

“Nope those are fine. Got them with you or should we . . . “ she squealed just a little bit when he produced two pints and spoons from behind the door. “Oh, Spike, you’re the best.”

“Ha, you’d say that to anyone who brought you chocolate.” Still, made him feel good to have her say something nice to him.

“Gimme, gimme” reaching out for one, she ignored his comment.

They ate in silence for a little bit, stealing spoonfuls from each other. They heard a door open, then harsh tones, then the door slammed shut. More angry words, but neither one could make out what was being said. Buffy winced and Spike observed “thought the birds were fighting when I came in.”

“They’ve been up for a while” was her comment.

“Bound to happen sooner or later. Red hurt Tara . . . same as she did you pet.” He hung the spoon on his lower lip, savoring the melting ice cream. Buffy watched fascinated despite herself.

“Yeah well, Willow doesn’t always think things through.” There was real hurt in her voice now and Spike responded to it.

“‘m sorry kitten. Had I known . . . “ her finger on his lips stopped his words and his entire thought processes. The cold ice cream and her hot fingers sent shockwaves through his system.

“I know. Just wish she would’ve thought this one over more before she pulled me out.” She looked away from him, unable to stop the tears.

His voice was a bare whisper as he asked her “pulled you from where kitten?”

Taking a deep breath, Buffy swirled the melting ice cream with her spoon. Staring down into the depths of peanut butter cup goodness, she whispered back “I think it was . . . think maybe it was heaven.”


******************************* ********************************

Willow had tried to get back into Tara’s good graces. She’d brought home flowers for her, a bunch of pretty pink shasta daisies, offered her a massage and then tried getting her in the mood. Nothing worked, Tara kept giving her the cold shower, so finally she just asked “Baby are you mad at me?”

Tara had automatically started to respond with “no” when she stopped herself. “Yes . . . yes Willow I am angry.”

Genuinely surprised, Willow asked, “why?”

At first Tara just looked at her, unable to believe this was coming from her. “What happened the other night Willow?”

“The other night? Oh . . . you’re mad because of the other night?” Willow didn’t understand why bringing Buffy back got everyone upset. It was a good thing she’d done, rescuing Buffy from an unknown hell dimension.

“Yeah Willow, the other night. When you drugged me and Dawnie, and then used both of us.” Tara’s patience was gone.

“I needed your blood for the ritual. Didn’t think it would hurt. And you weren’t supposed to remember.” Confusion laced her tone.

“You could have asked us Willow, instead of drugging us and taking it.” The anger just got stronger the more she spoke. Tara started getting ready for bed, opening and closing drawers a bit more forcefully than she normally did.

“But baby, I didn’t want to hurt you.” Willow got up from the bed, crossing the room to Tara’s side.

“What you did hurt me. Hurt Dawn. God Willow, what were you thinking? I would’ve helped . . . “ well, Tara thought, maybe not, “but you never asked Willow. You just took.”

“C’mon baby, this is just a misunderstanding, you know I wouldn’t really hurt you.” She tried cajoling her girlfriend in an effort to stop the fight.

“But you did Willow. You did hurt me.” Tara gathered up her pajamas and some sheets and pillows. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“Wait.” Willow sprinted across the room when Tara opened the door. “C’mon, don’t you trust me?” Slamming into it, Willow smiled broadly at Tara. “C’mon you know I love you.”

“That’s just it, I don’t know if I trust you anymore.” Tara watched while tears formed in Willow’s eyes.

“Please don’t leave, give me another chance. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again. Please, baby, don’t go.” Willow tugged on Tara’s arm, pulling her back toward their bed.

“All right. But this better be real Willow.” Tara’s tone left the redhead with no illusions that if she screwed up once, Tara was gone.

[A/N: The title is a Welsh word meaning homesick. But its not the kind of homesickness you get when you are away at summer camp or even when you’ve moved away from home. This is the kind of homesickness that is in your soul, when you yearn for a place that you’ve never been before, or that is so soul-deep that you can’t recover from being away from it. It’s the soul-deep yearning that most Celts carry for our homelands . . for the hills and valleys of the Highlands, for the sea of Ireland (and land so green it hurts your eyes) and for the wild coast and lands of Wales. The quotes are as attributed. Again, thank you so much for the lovely reviews.]

Previously: Giles got more information from Willow; and then she and Tara had it out, although they’ve reconciled momentarily. And Buffy finally told Spike about where she’s been. Just one more endless night on the hellmouth.

20. Hireath

I think I’ll be homesick for you, even in heaven
Little Women screenplay, 1933 (Katharine Hepburn)

Comfort’s in heaven, and we are on the earth,
Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief.
Richard II, act 2, sc 2

Are not the days of my life few? Let me alone, that I may find a little Comfort before I go, never to return, to the land of gloom and deep darkness,
The land of gloom and chaos, where light is like darkness.
The Book of Job 10:20


Salty tears slipped down her cheeks landing in the puddle of melting ice cream. Spike was a silent sentinel beside her, frozen in place by her admission. There were no words he could use to convey his thoughts or feelings at this moment. Nothing he could say that would console her. The tears formed a little pool, watering down the creamy substance and he watched helplessly as more and more fell. He wanted to cry along with her, wanted to roar his rage at heaven for letting her go, but mostly he wanted to reach into the next room and eviscerate Willow.

The room was deathly silent, neither one of them able to speak. She couldn’t believe she’d just blurted it out, telling him that way. She couldn’t look, dare not look at him, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes.

Moving very slowly, Spike put the ice cream down, then moved to take hers from her lax hand. The bed creaked as he moved, the noise very loud in the still air. He shifted his weight to rest against the headboard. Looking up at the ceiling, Spike made a visible effort to control his raging temper. Not good for her, to see him angry like this, she’d think that it was directed at her. Or worse, try to defend Willow. That he couldn’t handle right now.

Not when he wanted to kill her and hang her entrails from his DeSoto.

Gaining the upper hand on his emotions, Spike reached out a hand to brush down Buffy’s arm. At his touch, she crumpled. The tears gave way to soft hiccuping sobs and she buried her face in her hands.

Without a word, he lifted her up from her spot next to him, cradling her in his arms. Holding her to his chest, Spike hid his own tears from her.


******************************* *******************************


Tara lay stiffly beside Willow all night, sleep elusive and, when it came, restless and dream filled. Sometime in the minutes before dawn, Tara grabbed her pillow and crept from the room.

She should’ve stuck to her guns earlier and slept on the couch. Every little noise Willow made grated on her nerves just adding to her tension. She figured if she tried to get some sleep on the couch she might not be in such a horrible mood come morning.

For the first time since she’d known Willow, Tara wasn’t happy. She’d thought they were a couple, partners. Partners didn’t keep huge secrets from each other, didn’t make decisions without the other – didn’t drug each other. Every time she thought about it, her stomach clenched and her throat got all tight and sore.

And Willow acted like nothing had happened.

Tara suddenly realized that not once had Willow apologized for any of her actions.

******************************* *******************************


There was no comforting thump beneath her ear, no sound to indicate that someone held her. No sound but her own heartbeat and sniffles. Yet it didn’t matter. Strongly muscled arms held her close, shallow breaths wafted over her head. Tears slid down her cheeks only to be absorbed into the black cotton against her face.

Neither one of them spoke. She, because she’d exhausted all her words in one stark sentence, and now her tears spoke more eloquently. Spike stayed silent because the words of rage were not for her ears.

He brushed a gentle hand down her back his thumb tracing circles endlessly. She leaned closer into his embrace almost as if she wanted to crawl into his skin. His tears of rage and sorrow fell on her hair unnoticed by her. Absently, he brushed them away with one hand, then, in a natural motion given their position, wiped his hand down her cheek to wipe her tears away.


His hand cupped her cheek and she sighed into it. Wrapping his arms around her again, Spike dropped his head to rest on hers, automatically kissing the top of her head. She shifted closer, her head now in the crook of his neck, her nose just under his chin. A soft shudder moved through her and he slowly moved to get the throw blanket from the foot of the bed. She mewled a protect at his motion but quickly settled when he drew the blanket around them.

His hand went back to rubbing circles on her back. Buffy sighed against his neck.

Sometimes great revelations come in the middle of a hectic, noise filled day. Sometimes they come after long hours of thought and contemplation. Sometimes they come after taking apart a situation and looking at it with fresh eyes. But sometimes, revelations come in the middle of the night, held tight in the embrace of someone you shouldn’t care about. Sometimes, great revelations sneak up and you don’t realize you’ve reached it until the moment is upon you.

Cuddled in Spike’s embrace, her tears drying on his shirt, Buffy came to a realization, a profound revelation. She was safe. Safer than she’d ever been. Possibly even safer than she’d been as a small child. Definitely the safest she’d ever been since becoming the slayer. And the reason why?

The reason why held her in his arms.

A second, no less profound realization struck her. This feeling had been building for years.

For years.

Since Angelus had tried to awaken Acathla and Spike had come to her seeking an alliance. There’d been an instant feeling of relief knowing he had promised to watch her back.

Oh sure, there had been bumps and set-backs since – the Gem of Amarra fiasco the most notable – but really, they’d been building on that first initial moment ever since.

With Spike, when he was on her side, she was safe.

She remembered a phrase from a book she’d read before they had moved from Los Angeles. Couldn’t remember the title or the author, or even what the story was about, but she remembered this phrase: ‘where do the strong go when they need to be weak?’

For a very long time she hadn’t understood that. It wasn’t until after she’d been chosen that she started to understand even slightly. But now she understood it perfectly.

Where do the strong go when they need to be weak?

For her, it was here, with Spike.


******************************* *******************************


Willow rolled over, expecting to find Tara and cuddle around her. Instead she got nothing but empty space. Thinking she’d only gotten up to use the bathroom, Willow settled back to sleep, completely oblivious to the fact her girlfriend couldn’t stand to be in the same bed.

Blissfully unaware that she was about to be persona-non-grata in the house at Revello Drive, Willow slipped easily back into sleep.


******************************* *******************************


Something woke Dawn from a sound sleep -- a noise that wasn’t normal. Lately, well since Spike had started sleeping here, there were lots of unusual middle-of-the-night noises. But those she’d gotten used too, even been able to identify some of them. Spike had a very distinctive walk, mostly because of the boots, but even barefoot she could figure out if it was him.

But now it wasn’t him. Wasn’t Buffy having a nightmare either. This sounded quieter, stealthier, like someone trying to sneak around unnoticed. She couldn’t really make out the footsteps either.

Concerned, Dawn got up to check it out. And got to her door in time to see Tara, with her pillow tucked up underneath her arm, head downstairs.

“Tara” Dawn’s whisper startled the other girl, causing her to turn around, her hand covering her scream.

“Gods Dawnie, you scared me. What are you doing up?”

“Dunno. Something woke me up.” With a glance at the pillow, Dawn made a decision. “C’mon Tara, my bed is way more comfy than the couch.”

Starting to shake her head in denial, Tara said “go back to bed sweetie, I’ll be fine” but Dawn’s voice interrupted her.

“C’mon, I’ll take the floor. Don’t . . “ as Tara turned to go.

Dragging the other girl into her room, Dawn checked the hallway, then closed her door.

Before she knew it, Tara was in Dawn’s bed, the teen on the floor and the lights out.


******************************* *******************************


Spike knew the moment she fell asleep. He’d been so focused on her breathing it would have been hard not to know. When he’d shifted earlier to pull the blanket up, she’d gripped his arm tight enough to bruise. And after, she hadn’t relaxed her grip at all, only wormed her way closer, which was almost impossible. Any closer and they’d be skin to skin.

Not that he’d object or mind. He was just finding this all a bit hard to believe.

Her revelation of where she’d been hadn’t come as a complete surprise. He’d suspected as much. Not likely that the All Mighty would consign the Chosen One to a nether region. Bloody stupid assumption anyway.

Buffy shifted in his arms loosening her hold on him. Taking the opportunity Spike moved Buffy under the covers. He got up, going to keep watch in his chair, when her sleepy voice whispered “come back to bed Spike.”

He was so startled by her statement that when he turned to look at her, he actually used her name. “Buffy?”

She smiled at him, a sleepy warm smile that he’d never actually seen before, and just repeated her words.

“You sure?” He just had to ask because he almost didn’t believe his ears.

“Yes Spike, come back to bed.”

His boots hit the floor within seconds and his shirt quickly followed. He left the jeans, not willing to trust himself or believe her to think it was more than comfort she was looking for. Sliding under the covers, it was the most natural thing to gather her back into his arms.

She didn’t resist.

If anything, she moved into his embrace as easily as if they’d been doing this for years, not just for the first time. Kissing the top of her head, Spike said, “go to sleep, I’ll be right here.”

He nearly scuttled away from her when she nuzzled his chest, a soft “mmmmm” vibrating against him.

His eyes closed in near bliss. She was so warm against him, her heat seeping into his bones. Nuzzling into her hair, Spike inhaled unnecessarily, just drawing in her scents.

Buffy. Vanilla. Jasmine. Chocolate. Tears. Power.

Her heart thumped against his bare chest only her thin sleep shirt between them. Her hand snaked around his waist, her fingers hooking into the belt loops, anchoring them together. Unconsciously his left hand began drawing circles on her back, smoothing the shirt down.

A smile crept up over his face as his eyes drifted closed. Oh yeah, this was just fucking great . He could stay like this forever. Would trade anything for this to be real, for this to continue, for it to be more than just this moment. He’d give his soul, if he had one, for this.

She brought her other hand up, resting it between them, her palm splayed across his chest. Her thumb moved in tandem with his hand, running up and down, just out of reach of his nipple. Her other thumb began moving against his back, dipping just under his waistband. His right arm circled around her head, which was where it had been resting since he’d pulled her close.

Pressing a light kiss on her forehead, Spike breathed out. “Go back to sleep sunshine.”

He felt her smile against his chest.

So intent on listening to her heartbeat, Spike almost missed her words “comfy. Don’t wanna sleep. Wanna stay like this.”

Oh Jesus.

Christ on a cross.

He couldn’t have heard her right. There’s just no way in fucking hell she just admitted to wanting to be in his arms. No way. Had to be grief or something else talking.

Had to be.

Involuntarily he tightened his hold on her. Instead of backing away, Buffy molded herself closer, tightening her own hold on him.

Bleeding Jesus.

He couldn’t hide his body’s reaction to her proximity any longer. And they were so tightly enmeshed in each other’s arms she couldn’t possibly mistake it for anything else. Bracing himself for her withdrawal, Spike pulled her closer with his hand at the small of her back. He couldn’t help himself, had to at least feel her this close once in his life.

She sighed, settling in, their bodies completely flush. He kissed her forehead one more time, because he couldn’t not and froze when she returned the kiss.

His chest burned where her lips had touched him.

If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake. He’d almost managed to convince himself he’d imagined it when she did it again.

He groaned rocking his hips against hers. Lifting her up slightly, Spike tilted her head up.

“Kitten” he breathed at her.

Her eyes focused on his face.

He smiled at her, a soft awed smile.

They moved together, meeting each other halfway. Her arms curled up around his head while both of his settled around her hips.

Mouths open, tongues met, clashed then gentled. She mewled softly, he growled in response.

Breaking apart when she needed air, he pressed gentle kisses to her forehead, whispering, “sleep now sunshine.”

Closing her eyes, her head once more tucked in the crook of his neck, Buffy sighed, once, twice and on the third deep breath, slipped into slumber. [A/N: There were moments, during the show’s run, when I wanted to throw something at the screen because the writers had lost the plot. There were even more moments when I sat there in stunned disbelief and said to myself “I so could have done that better” (usually they were preceded by me throwing things at the screen). I never quite understood why the writers brought Buffy back and immediately had her fighting (um, hello?) nor did I understand how she could stand all the noise and stuff, she’d been dead, so everything about life would have been loud and harsh and just not good. Anyway, that’s why I’m trying to address the story in my own way. I’m enjoying it, I have no idea if anyone else is (except for the reviews, THANK YOU ALL!!) But I digress, and no one wants to hear me rant about the show and what happened when Joss let go the reins and gave over the day to day writing to Marti. *Focuses on the story* Right, so . . . title is from one of my favorite Fleetwood Mac tunes, but really is a Lindsay Buckingham number. It’s a gorgeous song and even prettier when its sung by both Lindsay and Stevie Nicks. Quotes as attributed, disclaimers still in full force and effect.]

21. Crystalline knowledge of you

Do you always trust your first initial feeling?
Special knowledge holds true
Bears believing
Lindsay Buckingham, Crystal

It gives me wonder great as my content
to see you here before me.
Anonymous

I have spread my dreams under your feet;
tread softly because you tread on my dreams
William Butler Yeats, Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Langston Hughes, Dreams


They must have shifted in the early morning hours, curled together in sleep. Spike woke slowly, warmed by her body pressed tight against him. She was still sleeping softly, her breath slow and steady against his bare chest. Her mouth was open and a tiny bit of drool pooled beneath her cheek. Their arms were still wrapped around each other, hers resting up and around his neck, his tight across the small of her back. One of her legs was wedged between both of his, curled around the one that was closest to the mattress.

He’d never been this warm, not since turning. Trying to gauge the time, Spike looked toward the window. Judging by the color of the sky, it was still early yet. Enough time to go back to sleep. Sighing in complete and utter content, Spike closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.


******************************* **********************************


Dawn and Tara woke up at the same time, making their way down to the kitchen. Neither girl spoke about why Tara had been leaving her bedroom in the early morning hours. Dawn didn’t know what to make of it, so in her confusion said nothing, and Tara was just so very hurt by Willow’s actions that she wasn’t ready to talk to anyone. There wasn’t anyone that she was close enough to, to confide in. All the scoobies were Willow’s friends first, so that left them out. Buffy wasn’t really in any position to help anyone. Poor girl had enough to deal with. And this wasn’t the kind of thing you just dumped on a fifteen year old’s shoulders. Dawnie was great, but this was something she couldn’t talk about with her.

That left Anya or Xander. Neither one of whom she expected would be sympathetic to her problems. Unless. Tara thought maybe, if she could get him to sit still, Spike would listen to her, and actually have some sort of idea about what she should do. Tara realized she wasn’t really looking for advice, but more of a sounding board. Someone to just listen and let her talk without interrupting.

Going through the motions of getting breakfast ready, Tara came to a decision. Soon as she could, she was going to talk to Spike and then she was going to spend some time away from this house, doing stuff that she liked to do. Like sitting in the park and writing poetry. Or maybe, Dawnie might want to go to the beach.

“Dawn? Have you got plans for today?” Tara asked quietly while searching the refrigerator for something to eat.

“Um, no, nothing really. Janice is away and Kirsten has to babysit her new brother. So, no, I’m footloose.” Snagging a banana and a bowl, Dawn sat down to cereal goodness. “Why you got something in mind?”

“Yeah, you wanna head to the beach?”

“Ooooohhh yeah. How we gonna get there?” Dawn asked around a mouthful of crunchy bananas and milk.

“Maybe I’ll ask Spike if we can use the DeSoto.” Tara giggled at the expression on Dawn’s face, knowing they would never ask the vampire for that. “I dunno, sweetie, maybe we should just take the bus.”

“Cool. Road trip.”


******************************* *******************************


Not too long after Spike woke, Buffy shifted in her sleep, swimming toward wakefulness. This was comfy. Nice. She didn’t want to move. Her arms curled tighter around the pillow she had cradled under her head, snuggling in closer. When she met resistance, Buffy opened her eyes.

Oh. No pillow. The normally cool alabaster skin beneath her had absorbed her extra heat, drawing it down. She was curled almost on top of Spike. Buffy closed her eyes. Everything came flooding back, their quiet bonding over ice cream after he’d come back from patrol, and then his reaction when he’d told her about where she’d been.

She thought she should be uncomfortable, embarrassed and disgusted with herself. How stupid was it to curl up in the arms of the undead? Especially this particular undead. Backtracking a moment, Buffy thought about the things she’d been thinking about last night. How safe she felt, how comfortable being with Spike was, how easy it was, when he wasn’t being a jerk.

Instead of moving away from him, Buffy settled in closer. ‘Where do the strong go when they need to be weak’ echoed in her head.’ Resting her head again on his chest, she thought that if she pretended to sleep, maybe he wouldn’t ever move. This was . . . she closed her eyes . . . this was nice. She didn’t have to think, didn’t have to worry about anything.

Abruptly she realized that she hadn’t woken up screaming – hadn’t even had a hint of a nightmare. Every time she’d gotten restless, he’d been there to soothe her, holding her close. Another revelation. At this rate, she huffed, she was going to have to completely re-think every thing about him.

She remembered the kiss. Oh boy, did she remember the kiss. Best goodnight kiss she’d ever gotten too. It was obvious too, that he’d wanted her. Hard to pretend something that um, big and hard wasn’t there. Giggling softly at her own really bad pun, Buffy hummed into his chest. This was the first morning she’d woken up since her return in a good mood.

It was all his fault. Him and his strong arms and his stupid hair and his . . . Buffy gave up. She couldn’t fight it. She actually, actively liked Spike. As in liked.

And, since she was in an introspective mood, Buffy was forced to admit to herself that this was another thing that had been building for a while. Maybe not so much years like the safety thing, but, at least since he’d taken the beating from Glory and protected her sister.

That moment, despite the idiocy of the Buffybot, had totally changed her view of him. He’d been so broken and battered that she’d had no choice but to reassess her thoughts. And to get up and face Glory again, willingly, without complaint, just because she asked him too. Well. She didn’t think Angel would have done it – he probably would have cautioned her about something, then slunk off in a huff when she didn’t do as he wanted. And Riley never would have survived the beating Spike took, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have faced Glory again.


For all his lack of stature and his lean build, Spike was the toughest guy she’d ever met. He was like the energizer bunny, always going, never dying. Buffy raised her head away from his chest, looking down at his still features.

Oh yeah, not to mention his angelic face. Hah. What a front that was. She wondered just how many unsuspecting girls had followed him because he was cute and sexy and deceptively innocent looking, only to find that they’d unchained a demon. Well, thanks to Maggie Walsh and her not-so-merry band of soldiers, Spike could no longer use his face as a lure for unsuspecting girls. For once, Buffy was grateful for the deranged policies of that fanatical she-bitch. If it hadn’t been for The Initiative, Buffy would never have been able to jump and know that her sister would be safe.

Holding back a tear, she watched him sleep. He’d stayed. She was dead and he’d stayed to look after her sister. He’d done the one thing no other man in her life had ever done.

He hadn’t left.

Brushing a kiss against his chin, she laid her head back down on his chest and, hugging him tight, closed her eyes and said a silent thanks to him.


******************************* *******************************


When Willow woke up, the house was silent and still. Wandering down to the kitchen she found a note from Tara and Dawn taped to the refrigerator advising everyone else that they’d gone to the beach and would be back sometime later in the afternoon. It was barely eleven, and while she wasn’t really happy about where they’d gone, Willow had no desire to follow them to the beach.

She figured she could head over to UC Sunnydale and see what was on the course calendar for the next semester, since registration was only a couple of days away. At least she would be out doing something she liked to do.

Not wasting much time and not bothering to check if anyone else was still home, Willow got dressed and left for the college.


******************************* *******************************


It was the slamming of the front door that woke them both up at the same time. Startled awake, Spike’s arms tightened painfully around Buffy and she yelped sleepily. Muttering a sheepish “sorry” under his breath, Spike moved to extract himself from her embrace before she woke up completely. Instead of adjusting to give him room to get away, Buffy found herself holding him closer, reluctant to let the vampire go.

“Morning” was all she said, still holding him tight.

A raised brow greeted her statement and he mumbled a “morning sunshine” right back at her.

“Did you get enough sleep?” Buffy smiled at him.

The absurdity of their conversation made him smile broadly. This was just so domestic of them. “Fine love, how ‘bout you?”

She giggled at him and his expression. Before she could answer him, he spoke again “you sure you’re okay kitten?”

“No bad dreams last night.” Her smile was real and bright.

Ahh. . . so that was what it was. No nightmares. Well, that was a step in the right direction. “So it was a good night then.”

“Ahuh. Thanks to you.” She couldn’t resist. Had to tell him somehow that last night had been. . . . important to her.

Oh she was radiant. Like sunshine, like starlight, like everything he’d missed for years. The words slipped from his mouth before he had time to censor his thoughts. “God you are beautiful pet. Sight to see.”

She tried to be flip, tried to make him smile, but the serious look that suddenly came over his face made it impossible. “Spike” was all she was able to say before his finger across her lips silenced her.

“Ssshhhh, don’t say anything. Don’t wanna spoil this.” Of their own volition, his fingers curled around her cheek, cupping the side of her face. She leaned into his hand, rubbing against his strong fingers.

“Just wanted to say thank you. For everything.” She stilled, holding herself close against him.

“Buffy, I . . . I’m so sorry, baby.” His heart was in his eyes, trying to convey to her what he meant.

“Sorry? Why?” Their voices were nothing more than whispers, carrying no further than the circle of their arms. She was perplexed by his statement, wondering what he was sorry for, since he’d done absolutely nothing wrong.

“For what happened, what Red did, pet. Pulling you from heaven.” His hand ran down her arm, from shoulder to elbow, absently stroking her.

“Wasn’t you. You don’t need to be sorry about that.” She rested her chin against his chest, completely comfortable. “Not your fault.”

“I know that kitten, but it wasn’t right anyway. Should’ve left you alone.” His face reflected a flash of anger but Buffy realized it wasn’t directed at her at all.

All at once she grew serious. “Spike, promise me something?”

“What’s that?” He braced himself to hear, ‘don’t let this happen again’ or ‘don’t come to my room anymore’ or any number of things she could make him promise.

“Please don’t say anything to anyone about where I’ve been.” He hadn’t expected that at all. He started to protest, but Buffy stalled him, “it would hurt too much. Dawnie and Tara. They . . . don’t want, either of them to know.”

“You should tell them.” He disagreed with her, but he had a feeling this was the first of many arguments he was going to lose to her. At least it wasn’t what he’d anticipated, her giving him the boot but good.

“No, I don’t want anyone to know.” Shaking her head, he could see that she was adamant about this.

“You told me.” Was his only counter-argument.

At that, she thumped him. “You’re different. You . . . you’re just different.”

“Right, coz ’m me. C’mon goldilocks, you know you should tell, at least tell the Niblet.” He didn’t want to let this go, something was telling him to push the issue.

“I’m serious. No telling.” Thumping him again, Buffy pinched his arm.

“Oi, woman, leave off. All right. Won’t say a bloody word.”

Once again she struck him speechless when she dropped a quick kiss on his chest, saying “thanks Spike.”

Bloody hell. She was gonna kill him. Wrapping his arms around her, he exhaled deeply, trying hard to suppress feelings that she wasn’t really ready to face.


******************************* *******************************


Sitting on the beach with Dawn, Tara came to the realization that she didn’t want to go back to the house and face Willow. In fact, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see Willow at all. She could maybe forgive one of the things that had been done, but all of it? Tara wasn’t so sure that would be possible. Maybe, if Willow had said she was sorry, or apologized or even acted like she was aware everyone was upset with her, she might be feeling a little more open to forgiving her, but there was none of that.

No remorse, no regret and absolutely no admittance that something was wrong.

On the other hand, Tara wasn’t really sure she was ready to just walk away from their relationship. She thought she still loved Willow, so she owed it to them to try and make things work.

Looking over at Dawn, who was absorbed in her book, Tara wondered what would happen to the girl if she had to move out.


******************************* *******************************


Dawn felt Tara’s eyes on her. She wasn’t really reading, but she didn’t want anyone to know what she was doing, not even Tara, so she shifted away a bit, rolling over onto her back, the book up in the air in front of her.

It was a picture she was studying. Well, two pictures.