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Time after Time by BuffyMeetsSpike
 
Long Day at Work
 
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Disclaimer: All the characters are someone else’s, not mine. Thanks as ever to Sanity Fair, queen of the betas, and to all my readers, who keep me encouraged.
 
Chapter 14 – Long Day at Work
 
The next morning she woke up and opened the door of the guest room slowly. Her bedroom door was still closed, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief before heading downstairs. She made a pot of coffee and found some cereal to call breakfast. Her appetite returned suddenly with a vengeance, and she was on her third bowl when Riley came downstairs.
 
“Morning,” he said. “Did you sleep okay?” He looked like he hadn’t slept particularly well at all, with slight circles under his eyes and tousled hair.
 
“Good enough,” she replied between bites. “There’s coffee.”
 
“Thanks,” he muttered. He poured two cups and passed one over to her. She accepted it gratefully and continued with her breakfast. He grabbed a bowl and joined her, raising his eyebrows at how little cereal was left, but otherwise saying nothing. After they were both done eating Riley asked, “Did you… has anything changed?”
 
Buffy shook her head. “No. No worse, just the same.” She took another sip of coffee. “Any plans for today?”
 
“I guess I need to go to work,” Riley answered, clearly reluctant to leave her.
 
“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him.
 
“When I talked to Giles last night he said there were some other things that we could try. It would probably be a good idea if you went over to the Magic Box later,” Riley ventured, unsure how she would react.
 
Buffy shrugged. “I’ve got no other plans.”
 
“I’ll drop you off on my way to work if you want,” he offered.
 
Yeah, you don’t want to risk me doing something independent now. On the heels of that thought she admonished herself. Could you be more of a bitch? It’s not his fault you remember things differently! To Riley she said, “That would be fine. When do we need to leave?”
 
“I forget, you don’t remember the schedule. If you could be ready in forty five minutes, that’s fine.”
 
“No problem.” They finished their breakfast and cleared up the dishes in silence. Buffy went upstairs and grabbed clothes and a two minute shower, then went to the guest room to get dressed while Riley did the same. She looked at herself in the mirror, still trying to figure out how the same shell could have something so different going on inside. Could the world just cut it out already? I died for you, I killed my man for you, twice on both accounts, just fucking stop! She wanted to scream, but she thought better of it. A scream would probably bring Riley running, and she didn’t feel like dealing with him right now.
 
Taking a few deep breaths to regain control she went downstairs. Riley joined her a few minutes later. “Ready to go?” he asked. She nodded and followed him out to the car. Once again the silence between them was heavy and awkward, but she had nothing she wanted to say, and he seemed afraid of her somehow. Buffy resolved that if she was going to be stuck in this version of her life that she was going to have a long talk with the others very soon about this kid gloves treatment, because it was driving her nuts. She had gotten used to being treated as the leader and the strong one, and this relegation to fragile basket case was exasperating.
 
At the Magic Box Riley stopped the car. “Do you want me to pick you up after work?” he asked.
 
“If you want. Doesn’t make a difference.” She got out and closed the door, giving him a half smile and a wave before walking to the shop. She was aware of his eyes on her until the door closed behind her, making sure she got there okay. Rolling her eyes she took her jacket off and looked around. “Hello? Anyone here?”
 
“Be right there!” Tara emerged from the basement door with an armful of enchanted candles. “Good morning.” She put the candles down on the counter and brushed off her hands. “I didn’t think you’d be here so early.”
 
Buffy shrugged. “I’ve got nothing else to do. Besides, I guess there’s probably research to be done or something. Might as well help.”
 
Tara looked her over for a moment. She hesitated, then said, “Buffy, I don’t want to alarm you or anything but it seems like something about your aura is… funky.”
 
“I’m suffering from funky aura? That’s my issue?” Buffy drifted to the shelves and started idly straightening things. She was interested in what Tara had to say, but worried about giving away too much.
 
“It just seems like… like you’re wearing an aura that’s not quite right. Like you borrowed someone else’s something. It’s hard to explain.”
 
You’re more right than you know, Buffy thought. “So what’s the cure for funky aura syndrome?”
 
“I’m not sure. I don’t know what could make someone’s aura do that. But it’s something to pursue in the research, I guess.”
 
Buffy was reminded with a bit of a pang how much she had missed Tara. The blonde witch had been a calm voice of wisdom in so many situations, and it had been devastating to lose her to Warren’s bullet. Would you really want to undo this? Would you really be rather living in Rome and dealing with the Slayer army and all that? She didn’t know if she could answer that question. She turned and sat down at the table. Looking at her hands for a moment, she asked Tara, “How bad was my breakdown? Everyone seems terrified to talk to me or something.”
 
Tara bit her lip, but then sat down at the table and took a deep breath. “After D… Dawn died you were catatonic. They had to feed you in… intravenously. W… Willow had to go into your mind three times before you even w… woke up.” Tara’s stutter increased with her nervousness, but to her credit she continued. “When you woke up you were still a m… mess. You would cry and scream, or b… break things. They had to sedate you a lot. When you calmed down a bit you t… tried to slash your wrists. You had to be in r... restraints. It took months for you to be functional again. “
 
Buffy absorbed Tara’s tale in stunned silence. After a minute she said, “Aren’t you worried about Willow doing so much magic on me? How do we know that it didn’t make things worse?”
 
“I did get worried after a while,” Tara admitted, looking down at her hands. “At one point she accidentally erased all of our m..memories. After that she b..backed off a lot, and you started taking meds to control your symptoms instead. That seemed to help.”
 
“I see,” Buffy answered. It seemed that there was some basis to their fears, but it was still extremely irritating. Changing the subject, Buffy asked, “Is there anything I should be doing around here? Riley told me I worked here or something.”
 
“Right now, we’re pretty good to go,” Tara answered.
 
“I think I’ll do some research then.” It occurred to Buffy that some of the local resources might give her some clues as to what was going on with her memories. Moving over to the bookshelves she started perusing the titles. A small volume entitled “Demon Mating Rituals and Customs” caught her eye. Curious, she pulled it down and started leafing through it. It told more than she ever wanted to know about the romantic lives of all manner of demons, some details of which she had been fine not knowing.
 
Then she came to a chapter on vampires and vampire claims. As she read she learned that the entire power of the claim was dependent on the power of the demon. “Vampires cannot claim non-demonic mates. An attempt at a claim between a vampire and a human will result in failure unless the human is either demonically possessed or a demon half breed.” For a moment she wrinkled her brow in utter confusion. So then how did we… As the revelation hit her mouth dropped open. Slayers have a demonic nature. That’s what the First Slayer was – a girl with a demon in her. That’s why we could mate. As she thought about it more, it actually started to make some logical sense. Her mate hadn’t died, but he had ceased to be a vampire. Even though she couldn’t communicate with him anymore, some residue or half-claim had remained. That’s why I can’t forget. She bit the inside of her cheek hard to keep from sobbing out loud. If we hadn’t claimed each other, I wouldn’t remember. I’d be content and happy, and have no memory of Spike at all. Oh God…
 
“Buffy are you okay?” Tara asked. She had looked up from what she was doing and had noticed that Buffy was pale.
 
Buffy shook herself and shut the book. “Yeah, I’m fine. The whole thing about Dawn just keeps hitting me, you know?”
 
Tara came over and drew her into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she said simply, and Buffy hugged her back, grateful for the human contact. After a minute or two, Tara pulled back. “Do you want some tea?”
 
“Yeah, thanks,” Buffy answered. She rubbed her face and went and sat down, putting her head on the table while she processed her thoughts. She had done this to herself, and yet she still didn’t regret having claimed Spike. If she hadn’t he would be completely lost. The amazing, infuriating, beautiful creature that was William the Bloody wouldn’t even exist as a memory, which struck Buffy as the saddest thought she had ever had. Tara brought the tea and she sat up and sipped it absentmindedly, lost in a world of paradox.
 
The shop door rang and Buffy looked up as Willow came in with coffee and donuts. “Hey gorgeous I’ve brought breakfast!” she called to Tara. She stopped short as she noticed Buffy. “Buffy? What are you doing here?”
 
“Um, working? Researching? Didn’t know I needed permission,” she grumbled.
 
Willow frowned a bit at Buffy’s annoyed tone. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you here so early.”
 
“I was awake, I have nothing else to do, so I’m here.”
 
Willow put the coffee and donuts on the counter. “If I had known I would have gotten more,” she apologized.
 
“I had breakfast, it’s fine.” Standing up, she gestured to the table. “You sit. I’m going to go work out in the back.” She entered the back room, closed the door behind her, and wandered around looking at weaponry for a while until she chose some throwing knives. For three quarters of an hour she threw them again and again with deadly accuracy, clearing her mind and focusing only on the satisfying thunk of the blades into the wooden target. Her concentration was finally broken when she realized that someone else had entered the shop. Embedding the last knife in the target she went to go see who it was. She stopped with her hand on the doorknob when she heard her name.
 
“Are you sure we should be letting Buffy be in there with the weapons alone?” It was Anya’s voice, and although she was obviously trying to keep it low it carried nonetheless. “What if she gets all violent or something? I have to think of the baby.”
 
All right, enough of this shit. She slammed the door open suddenly, and Tara, Willow, Xander and Anya all jumped guiltily. “Let’s get something straight, right the fuck now,” she said with steel and menace in her voice. “We’re going to have some new rules around here. Number one, we’re going to stop talking behind Buffy’s back. If you have something to say to me, you say it to my face.”
 
“Buffy, we were just…” Willow protested.
 
“Number two,” Buffy barked, cutting Willow off. “We are going to stop stalking me twenty four hours a day. No locator spells, no checking up on me every time I go to the fucking bathroom, no stalking me on patrol.” Xander at least had the decency to blush slightly as she continued. “Number three, there will be absolutely no entering my mind, memory spells, or any other magic done on my person without my express permission. I’m not suicidal, and I’m not homicidal, yet. But I swear to God if you don’t stop treating me like a freaking mental case I may very well become homicidal!” The assembled Scoobies looked at her wide eyed and slightly frightened by her intensity, and no one responded at first. “Any questions? Anybody got anything to say? Because this is the way it’s going to be, period, end of sentence.”
 
Ever the peacemaker, Tara spoke first. “Buffy, if we were being too overbearing, we’re sorry. I think we all let our concern for you make us forget who you are. We promise to lay off.”
 
“Thanks, Tara.” Turning to the rest she crossed her arms. “Well?”
 
“Buff, we’re sorry if we came on too strong. We just have… pretty strong memories of the last time,” Xander explained. “When you said you couldn’t remember that, well, that Dawn was dead, we thought you’d snapped again.”
 
“Look, I don’t know exactly why I’m in the current state I’m in.” Which is no lie, actually. “But I need you guys to trust me and deal with me, not tiptoe around me, alright?”
 
Willow looked unconvinced. “I guess I still don’t understand why you won’t let me help you. This is obviously something mystical. Why not fix it with mystical tools?”
 
“All I’m asking is for you to do a little more research before trying anything, okay? Can you just… wait?”
 
“All right,” Willow conceded. “But we should probably get going on the research thing then.”
 
“Fine. Tara, tell them what you told me about my aura.” Buffy knew that wasn’t the problem, but at least it would occupy the Scoobies and keep them out of her hair for a while.
 
The day was spent poring over the books, with notes being taken and ideas being batted back and forth, but Buffy barely listened to most of it. She leafed through books, trying to find something about time spells, time charms, anything that could explain how she had gotten sent through time in the first place, but there was precious little information of that type. In Giles’ office she found two shelves packed with Watcher’s diaries, and she sat down to start going through them. It seemed as if the fates had somehow conspired to make sure she was the Slayer in this timeline. The Chinese Slayer had died, killed by an errant explosion in the Boxer Rebellion rather than Spike. Nikki Wood had been taken out by a demon of some sort. She read how she had been killed by the Master, found by Xander and Giles and a locator spell and revived. Curiously, Kendra was still alive, out somewhere in Africa. Faith seemed not to have been called in this world. She wondered if Faith was out there still getting in trouble or if she had lived fast and died young. The Initiative had been up to its tricks, but the Scoobies had learned about it by capturing, interrogating, and then dusting some vampire named Laslow who had been chipped like Spike. She read about her own breakdown, about Giles’ misgivings, about threats from the Council to do away with her rather than deal with a psychotic Slayer. All of it seemed so mundane without the added wrinkle of vampire lovers to deal with.
 
“Buffy?” called Willow from the next room.
 
“Coming,” she replied. She stood up and stretched. The clock on Giles’ desk told her she’d been reading diaries for about three hours without realizing it, and her neck was stiff and her head ached. She went back into the main room to find that Riley and Giles had both joined the party. “I thought you were at work,” she said to Riley.
 
“I was able to get out of work a little early today,” Riley explained. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
 
“Same as before. I filled in some of the gaps with the Watchers’ diaries though.”
 
Giles looked a trifle disturbed by this. “I do wish you wouldn’t go poking about in my papers without my leave.”
 
Buffy rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I read your personal diary, Giles. I read the history of me and the past Slayers. I think I’m entitled to know my own story.” Giles had no immediate answer to this and had to content himself with a vague frown.
 
Willow spoke up again. “I think we may have a cure for this problem.”
 
Apprehensively, Buffy asked, “What do you propose to do?”
 
“It’s basically a healing spell for your aura,” Tara explained. “It’s meant to sort of… realign your body and your mind so they’re in sync with one another.”
 
“But what will it do to me?”
 
“Either it will do nothing, or it will make your aura ‘fit’ again, so you will be in tune with your own memories. We think the memories are there, but you just can’t access them for some reason.”
 
Yeah, but which memories are you talking about? Buffy folded her arms and walked away from the others for a moment. If she let them do this spell, most likely nothing would happen. But there was also the possibility that she could lose the memories of the other timeline entirely. Spike… what do I do? She bit her lip until it bled, trying to make a decision. Finally, with a quiet voice she said, “Just do it then.”
 
“I’m sorry?” Willow said.
 
“Do it,” she repeated, without looking at them. “Do the spell.” I’m sorry Spike. I know I might lose you, but I don’t know if I can do this without you. I’d rather have the oblivion, thanks.
 
To Riley it sounded like she was agreeing to go to the gallows or something. “Buffy, what’s wrong? Are you worried about the effects?”
 
She turned around, blinking back tears. “I can’t explain, okay? Just do it. Get it over with.”
 
Equally confused, Willow said, “Okay, if you’re sure.”
 
“Yes,” she snapped, sounding anything but sure. “Just make it happen already.”
 
Still concerned about Buffy’s attitude, Willow gestured to a chair. Buffy sat down, staring straight in front of her. “Close your eyes and try to clear your mind,” Willow instructed. Buffy closed her eyes, but her mind was filled with Spike. If she concentrated she could hear his smooth, liquid accent, whispering the words of their claim. She pictured his bright blue eyes, his smile, even his demon features were a precious memory to her. Spike I love you. I know I’m being weak, but I don’t want to live here without you. I just can’t. Willow was chanting something, and Buffy smelled incense of some sort, but she paid no attention. She just pictured her lover, her husband, remembered and cherished every moment they had had together. Willow’s chanting rose in volume and a warmth started to spread through Buffy’s body. The heat swelled and enveloped her and she once more cried out with her mind Spike! Then everything went black and she slumped to the floor.
 
 
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