DECEMBER 22, 2028-

Joni wondered why she couldn’t remember. She knew that there had to be a reason Homer made things a little better for her.

Then there were the dreams. She was the Slayer. The last. She was used to weird things happening, but the dreams were the weirdest of the weird.

Some nights she was herself, sometimes she wasn’t. There was no way to make them make sense. When she was awake, her Daddy was dead. But when she was asleep he was alive doing things she didn’t remember.

But, why didn’t she remember? Her first conscious memory was of her Daddy holding her. His rumble was loud, but she didn’t care. It didn’t scare her. It was comforting.

Her first clear memory was when she was two. But she knew she had existed before that. For every person, time, and memory started when they were born, yet there was a knowledge that the world existed before they did. There was proof of it, in photographs, in Mom and Daddy and Grandma and Grandpa. That was the proof the world was. That was how time marched on, how you knew you were.

She smiled as the answer came to her. That was it. Grandpa. Grandpa had the answers.
*******************

The loud knock that resounded through the cabin made him forget where he was for a minute. He smiled as a wave of nostalgia struck a chord in his heart.

He lifted his old bones out of the bed, groaning, “All right. All right. You’ll wake the dead with that knock!”

As the door opened, Joni found herself staring into familiar blue eyes, “Let me guess. The dreams aren’t making sense,” he smiled gently at her, “are they?”

She shook her head, hopeless, “No.”

He nodded, his eyes sparkling with a knowledge she had yet to find, “This is the only place things do make sense, isn’t it?” he saw her eyes shine in answer to a question she didn’t know she was asking, “And you think I might be able to answer some questions for you, don’t you?”

Joni nodded, “Yes,” she choked, “You knew my Daddy, didn’t you? You know things that I don’t, about him, and what happened.”

The smile he wore was eerie to her. It was too familiar, “I did know your father. Better than I know myself.”

“Tell me,” she begged, “Please?”

He stepped back from the door, inviting her in, “I’ll make that tea I promised,” he said, “And, I’ll tell you all I can remember.”
*********************************************************************************


IN THE INTERREGNUM-

Buffy couldn’t help laughing as she watched Spike run up and down the vast expanse as if he’d scored the winning goal for Manchester United. She was nearly doubled over with laughter just watching him, “Spike,” she gasped, feelling the tears escaping, “you are enjoying this way too much!”

He bounded toward her, eyes twinkling with glee, “Oh Love, you don’t understand,” he chuckled, “Who knew he had it in him? Peaches can have the sodding thing! I don’t want it, I swear. That was worth it!”

Buffy looked at him through her lashes, jutting her lip out, “Are you sure about that? I think you’re taking way too much delight in this.”

The come- hither tone in her voice made him putty in her hands. The warm glow in her eyes drew him like a moth to a flame. He shook his head as he stepped toward her, wanting to hold her. Even here, he couldn’t deny her. His knees buckled slightly as he addressed her, “Love,” he begged, “give a bloke a break, would you? I was evil for almost two hundred years,” he held her close and purred into her hair. He didn’t know how it was possible, but she still smelled like sunlight to him, “Then I met you,” her eyes came up to meet his and he could see the possessive glint that dwelt in them, “But, that doesn’t mean that a part of me doesn’t still take pleasure in watching Peaches get his.”

Buffy gave him a sidelong glance, “And that’s why you’re here and not where you could be.”

He slowly drew his hands up her arms, and felt her warmth spreading through him, “ I’m here to protect her. That’s what I agreed to. I knew what the consequences were,” he looked at her with grateful eyes, “At least I’m not alone,” he said as he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

“He isn’t either,” Buffy said.

Spike rolled his eyes, “Whom he chooses to surround himself with is up to him. I only agreed to keep an eye on Joni. And, I will. Can I help it if she sees someone he doesn’t?”

“Just protect her until he can find a way through.”

“Always, Love. I don’t know how to do anything else.”
*********************************************

As Spike left the White Room, he noticed the little girl who’d led him there was still lingering near, as if waiting to hear what he would need her to do next. He didn’t know if that was due to some sympathy she felt for him or an instinct for self-preservation. Right now though, he couldn’t care less which it was. He was going to use it.

The auric flash in his eyes enthralled Pia Johansen as he looked at her, “Do you have clearance for the records archive?” he asked, his voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

Everything in her wanted to say yes, wanted to please him. Wanted to live. His eyes were desperate and she knew her life depended on the answer. Her mouth grew dry as her mind searched for the right answer. She shook under the power of his gaze, “N-no,” she stammered.

His scrutiny wavered slightly as he shrugged one shoulder, reaching out to take her hand, “No matter,” he said, “Desperate times call for desperate measures. Come with me.”
***********************************************

Pia chanced a glance at the man that had forced her to break into the Records Room. He was hunched over the filing cabinets, desperately looking for something.

Her hands trembled as she skimmed the files, “What exactly are we looking for?” she wanted to appear confident but her voice was betraying her.

He seemed to notice. His eyes and tone softened as he looked at her, “Easy Pet, I’ve got no quibble with you. Just doing your job, yeah? You’re just a worker ant. I’m after bigger game. We’re looking for anything that makes reference to the offspring of the former Chief Executive Officer of the Los Angeles branch of this firm. Give a shout if you find anything, all right?”

Pia looked feverishly over the documents in front of her. She had no idea why she wanted to help him, but she did.

In the midst of the black and white of ink on paper, a name jumped out at her. She looked to him for confirmation, “The former C.E.O.’s name was Angelus, correct? That’s Latin for “Angel,” isn’t it?”

Spike’s eyes narrowed as he stepped over to her and looked over her shoulder, “Yeah. Did you find something?”

“Something about a Connor Angel, also known as Stephen Riley. It says here he’s a student at Stanford.”

Spike reached over her shoulder, snatching up the legal folder, “Jackpot, Love,” he sneered.
***************************