IN THE INTERREGNUM

Spike's eyes remained hooded in deference of all that Joyce and nameless others had sacrificed to bring him here. He was well aware that his place here was tenuous, at best, "I understand," he tried to keep the tremor out of his voice, "I won't tell them. I'll take it slow. I won't push. She can take as long as she likes. It wouldn't be the same if she weren't ready. But, Joni," his voice was tight, "I love her. I think you know that. I have to be near, to help her," he pleaded with the Spirit that held his life in the balance, "If I'm not with her, she could get lost again. And it could all happen again," he felt the tears as they slid down his face, "Then, all that I've done will have been for nothing. I swear, they won't know it's me. I won't reveal myself until they're ready."
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DECEMBER 2, 2028-LOS ANGELES

As she sat next to her on the plane, with nothing but sky and the ground miles below for company, Joni began to hate the silence.

Her mother hadn't spoken in months. Joni really wasn't surprised. When Angelus showed up at her Daddy's grave and dropped the bomb, she'd wanted to set him on fire. She even reached for his beloved lighter to do the honors. Joni remembered wanting to scream. She wanted to tear him apart for coming to her Daddy's grave to unburden his soul. And she would have too, if her Mommy hadn't put her hand on her shoulder, and spoke quietly in her ear, "Joni, the Slayer doesn't kill humans."

That was the last time her Mom had spoken.

That was almost three months ago. The doctors didn't know how to help her. She hadn't known what to do. If it hadn't been for her friendship with the cemetery gardener, she would still be frozen with fear.

It was the gardener who'd given her this idea, "Take her someplace that feels like home to her. We all grieve differently," the gardener paused, and Joni wondered at him, as a strange look clouded his eyes. He seemed to nod to himself, "Yes," he'd said, "Take her somewhere where your mother can put the ghosts away and start to live again."

That was why she'd bundled her Mom up, and against doctors' advice, started on the trip back to where it all began for them; the little dojo on Jennings Street.

It was her "Homecoming Day," the day she saw the gardener for the first time. She had begun visiting her Daddy every day since her Mom no longer could bring herself to do so. She was still mad at the world for taking her Daddy away, and giving such a precious gift to someone who didn't deserve it.
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NOVEMBER 1, 2028- NEW HOPE CEMETERY- NEW ENGLAND

The caretaker made his usual rounds. He strode confidently past the Peterson crypt, and made sure that Elijah Morris's nephews had not thrown the rocks that were left on his tombstone and in a fit of youthful exuberance, did damage to his neighbors' resting places.

Everything seemed in its place, until he happened upon the Dustin plot.

There was someone lying on the sod above William's resting place. A quick look at his watch told him that he wasn't early; it was this girl who was extremely late.

Fearing that he might have to summon medical help, he approached quickly. But as he got closer his ears picked up her soft, regular breathing. She had fallen asleep.

The poor thing had actually cried herself to sleep.

Not wanting to wake her by shining his flashlight in her eyes, he knelt down and shook her gently, "Rise and shine, little one," he said softly, "Time to get you back to your bed."

In the twilight of half-sleep, her true heart's wish came through, "Daddy?" she mumbled.

His heart went out to her. She must miss her father terribly. He had to bite the flesh of his inner cheek to fight the urge to tell her everything would be all right. Suddenly the right words came to him, "Your Daddy's always with you, Sweetheart," he whispered, brushing the maple-colored hair from her temple, "But I'm certain he wouldn't want you to freeze to death out here."

The voice was comforting, like a warm blanket. In her dream state, she could have sworn it was her Daddy. The haze of longing made her eyes snap open in a vain attempt to catch him. He flew away into the shadows of sleep. In the light of waning starlight, a stranger stood in his place.

Joni wiped the tears from her eyes as she stood up, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be any trouble," she felt her lips quiver and she wasn't sure if it was the cold, or the hole in her heart that was causing it.

"It's no trouble."

"...It's just that today is my 'Homecoming Day.' And this is the first one he's missed," her eyes looked down at the frost that covered the tips of the grass under her feet, "The last one, he was very sick, but I still had him," she sniffed, "I could still hug him and tell him that I loved him," her eyes drifted shut as she felt a cold breeze brush past her, "I don't have that anymore."

"Sweetheart," he struggled to find the words, as his heart was gripped in pain for her, "you've been here since yesterday," even in the glow of impending sunrise he could see the deep well of pain, that she drew her only sustenance from, in her deep sienna eyes, "Surely your father," he nearly choked on the word, "wouldn't want you to risk your heath? Not for his sake. Go home now."

"What time is it?" she asked.

The question caught him off guard, "Four in the morning," he blinked, as he saw her face set in determination, "Why?"

"Then I have to stay. It's past midnight. It's November first. Today is my 'Homecoming Day.'"

Conflicting emotions warred in him as he studied her. He didn't know whether to scold her or kiss her forehead, "It will be November first all day today, Sweetheart. For twenty more hours, to be exact," he smiled at her, "I'm sure you're father wouldn't mind if you went home to rest and then came back."

"No," she shook her head, "you don't understand. I can't leave. He has to know I'm here. I can't leave," the tone of her voice was rising with anxiety, "Please," she begged, "don't make me leave," her tears shone like beacons of life in this place of death, "Please, let me stay?"

His eyes closed in sympathy for her, "Your father knows you're here," he said softly, "Believe me. He knows," he put a hand on her shoulder and felt her shudder from the cold, "It's cold out here. You should go home," her eyes told him she needed to talk. He nodded his head in the direction of his cottage, "If I make you some tea, will you tell me why today is so important?"

Something in his voice, in the way he stood, was familiar to her, "You know, you're right. I should go home. My Daddy was always worried that I'd catch a chill," she smiled in thanks, "The tea is a nice offer. But, no thank you. I will tell you why today is so important though," she was surprised to feel her heart jump when she saw the stranger smiling back at her, "because you seem like a nice man."

He bowed slightly, "Why thank you, young Miss. That is very kind of you to say."

"You are very welcome. Do you know how some people only celebrate their birthdays and Christmas?"

"Yes."

"Well you see," she mused, "I'm sort of special. My father died before I was born and my mother died giving birth to me a few hours later."

His eyes widened in saddened shock, "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"It's all right," she assured him, "because my Mom and Daddy adopted me before I even came out of the hospital. I had a home to come to. And I did. On November first, I came home to live with them," she smiled, "So I have my birthday, Christmas, and 'Homecoming Day.'"

"That's a nice memory."

"Yes," Joni said, "it is. What's your name?"

"What?"

"I told you something very personal. I don't do that with strangers. My name is Joni," she said, as she shook his hand, "What's yours?"

"Call me...Homer."

"Well Homer," she said wearily, "it's time I said goodnight," she looked back over her shoulder, as she left the grounds, at the man standing beside her Daddy's tombstone, "I wouldn't want my Daddy angry with me. Take care of him while I'm gone, will you?"

As he watched her disappear from sight, he whispered, "Always, Dove. Always."
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DECEMBER 2, 2028-LOS ANGELES

The building's bricks were somewhat faded from the sunlight and weather, but it was still a sound structure. Joni was sure it was safe to bring her Mom inside. Even though it had been seven years since they'd lived in the little apartment above the dojo, to Joni, this was home. She had no problem getting the key so that she could gain entry to do what she needed to do before she brought her Mom here. After all, the property still belonged to the family. She'd had her Aunt Willow make sure everything was safe, and just as they had left it.

Joni knew that her Mom and Daddy had intended to come back when he got better. Unfortunately for all of them, he never did.

She just hoped this would help her Mommy remember what her Daddy had promised them.

"We're here, Mom," she said gently as she helped her mother out of the car. Joni felt the sharp brittleness of her mother's body, even under the loose, ill-fitting clothing she wore. She continued to coo to her as she led her into the building, "You'll see. It's all right to remember," her face softened as she looked at her mother's anguish and grief as it poured out of her. Joni could almost feel the sobs that wanted to tear out of her. Her Mom was frightened, "It's okay Mommy. Daddy would want you to remember."
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OCTOBER 20, 2005

As the second day dawned with still no sign of Spike at his usual post at the nursery window, Buffy became alarmed. She asked the nurses if they had seen her husband.

They all smiled at her as one of them said, "He said to tell you not to worry. He said to tell you that he was going to go to one of those all night superstores to pick up some paint for Jonina's room. And, if you needed him he'd be back at the flat until evening."

"Oh," Buffy sighed, "that's a relief. So I guess that means that Joni's out of danger then? If he felt it was safe enough to leave her for very long?"

Rose, the day nurse, nodded her head, rapidly, clearly astonished at the little girl's improvement, "Yep. We've never seen anything like it," she winked at her, " The nurses and I have a treasure trove of sweets for her if she makes it home by Halloween. And, if she doesn't, we'll give them to her anyway. That girl's just blown us all away."

"Well then, if you're sure Joni's okay, I think I'll check on my husband."
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The smell of fresh paint was palpable as soon as she walked through the door of the dojo. If the smell was this thick downstairs, even with the windows open to let in fresh air, Buffy wondered what it was like in the apartment. She didn't have to wonder long. Spike's gentle baritone floated down the stairs to meet her, "Love, if you're coming up, I've left a mask for you. It's in the locker room. The air is a touch thick in here," he chuckled, "The not needing air thing? It really is handy at times."

As Buffy went into the locker room to retrieve the paper mask, she talked to the ceiling. She was a little concerned because the downstairs area was flooded in streams of sunlight, giving the place an open, airy feel. It was nice. And, if her husband and sunlight were on friendly terms, she wouldn't have batted an eyelash, "Spike?"

"Yes, Pet?"

Her voice was tinged with fear, "Are you painting in the dark?"

"Oh, Pet, you know me. I'm fast on my feet. And daylight hours have never been a deterrent for me."

Her heart jumped in her throat as she rushed up the stairs, "But Spike, the whole room is flooded with sunlight, not even you can move that fast!"

Buffy threw open the door of the spare room in their apartment, and gasped at the sight she beheld. Spike, dressed in painters' whites with blue and yellow paint splashed across the front of the overalls and on his face, grinning from ear to ear. But that's not what made her gasp. He was standing in direct sunlight, with no means of shelter in sight.

And he wasn't turning to ash. It had to be a dream.

A smirk played on his lips. He'd shocked her so thoroughly that she'd forgotten to breathe. Part of him was pleased that he could still take her breath away. His logical side won out as he put his hands up in surrender, "I told you I was going to have Georgina order necro-tempered glass for the whole place," he approached her slowly, "It came last week. They just finished installing it," he looked down bashfully as his hands traced up and down her arms lovingly, "Just because her Daddy is a vampire doesn't mean Jonina, or you for that matter, has to live like one. You both deserve to be in the sunlight."

The blur of tears in her eyes prevented her from seeing the beautiful fresco that was painted on the facing wall.

Buffy blinked to see the painting clearly. She stepped back to admire it, "Did you paint this?" she was captivated by its whimsy. His use of subtle light and shadow captured it perfectly.

He nodded proudly, pleased with his work, "That I did, Pet. Did I get it right? I wasn't sure about the shading but I think I got it right."

It looked so real she felt she could reach out and touch it, "Oh, Spike," she whispered, "Have you ever seen one of these?"

"Yes, but it was a very long time ago, Love. I was afraid I'd forgotten. My little girl will not be deprived. Her world will be bright. Not shrouded in shadow. I don't want that, for either of you."

Buffy gazed in awe at the delicate rainbow, against an azure sky, that spanned the breadth of the wall. Under the colors of the rainbow, just under the arch, he'd written the phrase, "Our love for you will last longer than the rainbows in the sky."

"Oh, it's perfect," she whispered.
************************

DECEMBER 2, 2028

Joni slowly led her mother up the stairs. She opened the door to her old room. The room she grew up in. Over the years, as she grew older, her rainbow had been painted over. But, a little paint thinner, and some Slayer elbow grease, had exposed a portion of the original fresco. The one her Daddy had put his heart in. The one that depicted something that he could no longer have but would not deny her.

Buffy walked up to the wall and touched it lightly with her fingers, as if the wall would evaporate if she touched it, just like the bridge of light and sun.

Joni saw the tears brimming over her Mom's eyes, and heard her croak, "Oh, Spike. I miss you."

It had been so long since she'd heard her mother's voice that Joni started to cry as well, "Mom," she asked, "do you remember what was written under the rainbow?"

Buffy only nodded.

"Our love for you will last longer than the rainbows in the sky," Joni said, "That's true for Daddy; and me too, Mommy. We both love you very much, and always will."
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OCTOBER 17, 2005

The nurse smiled as the nervous father held his daughter, "I know it looks intimidating. All those wires and tubes shooting every which way, but her father's touch is the best medicine. And as long as you stay near the isolet, and mind the leads, she'll be right as rain, William."

"Thank you so much, Tasha. You're sure it's all right?"

"Certain sure, William," her eyes smiled at pure ecstasy on his face, "I'll leave you two alone," she said, as she went back to the nurses' station.

His fingers trembled as he held her. She was so small, but she was so strong. He could tell. That made him proud.

"Well, look at you," he purred softly taking in her tiny features. She was beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful. From her small fingers to her tiny toes, as she kicked against his palm, she was perfection. " I see you've got a strong kick, there. Take after your Mummy, do you?" his eyes swept over her reverently, "God," he breathed, "but you are beautiful. You're as delicate as a rainbow. I'm afraid I might shatter you," he studied her closer and noticed the broken blood vessels that caused an oddly shaped mark on her cheek. It was a battle scar. Her first, and he hoped her last. It was the only sign of her recent struggle for life. The nurses couldn't explain it. But it didn't matter. She was still here, "But that's nonsense, isn't it? You're strong, aren't you? You even have your first battle scar. Wear it proudly, little girl. You've earned it," his throat was raw with emotion, "And I know you can't see me under this mask. But, believe me, I'm grinning like a fool. You fought like a tiger, you did. I'm so proud of you," he placed his finger over her heart, and reveled in the strength of her petite heart. He let the sound vibrate through him and his eyes fell shut in silent thanksgiving, "You have no idea how much I love that racket you're making. You promise to keep it up, and we'll be just fine, you and I," it was then that he noticed that the mark on her face was in a familiar shape of a bird, "Oh, my God. It's you. You came," he gasped.
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