Disclaimer: Buffy and all related characters are property of Joss Whedon and some other people. All Lord of the Rings characters belong to J. R. R. Tolkein.
Beta: MarzBar

Note: Thanks for being so patient everyone, especially MarzBar who knows as well as I do how evil computers are.



Chapter 4: The Second Hand Rewinds

Buffy shifted the shiny little trinket from hand to hand. Giles said it was a tele-something or other, but that was too long to remember so Dawn named it a 'clocky thing.' She let out a sigh before contemplating the seriousness of this new venture. Giles had said the use of a full year was just a precaution, but she knew that wasn't true. They were going to need the entire year for this, one way or another.

One. Whole. Year.

That was like one year of high school, one year of memories, one year of the drama that seemed to have taken residence in her life, and it would all last less than a second in the end. A proverbial year really would pass in the blink of an eye. Would that make her 24 when she came back, or would she still be 23? Would she be the same person she was now, or would everything about her change? There was no way to fully know, and she could only hope that it would all work out in the end. Her life was hard enough without the added stress.

A knock at the door roused her from her thoughts. "May I come in?"

"Yeah."

The doorknob turned and Giles poked his head in. "Do you have a moment?"

Buffy nodded, motioning for him to sit down next to her on the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, taking off his glasses to wipe them. "I just wanted to get some things cleared up before you left."

This wasn't good. She could sense his weariness, but she silently urged him to continue.

"I know I haven't been very attentive to your needs as of late, and I can't help but feeling I've neglected to fill the role of a father." He put his glasses back in their place. "There has just been so much going on with the Council that I don't have the time to do all I'd like to. I don't mean to make excuses either; just to clarify I haven't forgotten you. I wanted to know if there was any way I could make it up to you." He looked at her hopefully, eyes pleading with her to understand.

Buffy shifted under his gaze. How would she tell him that she hadn't minded his neglect? She had been so busy wallowing in her self pity that she hadn't thought of Giles much at all, save when he sent her on a mission.

"It's okay Giles. You don't need to do anything; I understand."

Giles seemed a little put off by her quick dismissal of something that had been troubling him so, but he tried not to show it. "Alright then. I just wanted to let you know before you, er, left."

Buffy gave him a small smile before he left to go finish whatever business he needed to. As he shut the door, she let out the sigh that had been desperate to escape. Everything was hard enough without the added guilt of upsetting Giles. It wasn't just Giles, either. It was everyone. All she could think about, all she could dream about was Spike. She didn't know why, but she couldn't seem to let him go. It was like he wasn't completely gone yet, but he was still beyond her reach. She knew that if she didn't let him go soon it would eat her up more than it already had.

Continuing the packing that she had yet to finish, she looked around the room for anything she might have missed. Mr. Gordo had been the first thing she packed, figuring she was going to need him when things got rough. Giles said clothes were going to be provided, considering Buffy didn't have anything close to appropriate. With an assortment of weapons and a few important items, she was ready to go downstairs.



Everyone was already in the living room when she arrived, apparently waiting for her. Buffy completed the circle they had formed, her clocky-thing at the ready.

"You will be meeting two others when you arrive there," Giles informed the group. "Two slayers: Alexandria and Kennedy. Oh, do stop. There is nothing you can do about it now. We need her, whether you wish to admit it or not." The protests died down as they all silently agreed with him.

"Okay, everyone," Giles said solemnly, "Are you all ready?" He received a series of nods in reply. "Right. Now all you need to do is turn the knob on the side of the, er... clocky-thing six times to the left. All right? Now pull out the knob and-"

Buffy felt a tug on her consciousness, and the room vanished immediately. Frantically, she looked around to see where the others had gone. No sooner had this ordeal started than she was flung onto a cold, marble floor.


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Aragorn jumped clear out of his seat as ten bodies fell from an opening in the air and onto the ground with a thud. He simply stared as they groaned and moved to get up. He glanced over at Gandalf and, seeing that he was perfectly calm, waited patiently until they realized where they were.

Buffy's head was spinning a million miles an hour. She brought a shaky hand up to her forehead in an attempt to stave off the residual nausea. She opened her eyes slowly, freezing as she was met with a familiar blue. All thoughts shattered, all feeling melted away, there was nothing but the crystal blue of his eyes and a shock of platinum hair. She forced her eyes shut, trying to steady her breathing. The jump to a different dimension must have discombobulated her more than expected, she thought furiously, nothing more. Cautiously, she opened her eyes once more. There he was, clear as day, lying on the floor in a similar position to the one she was currently in. He stared back at her, unmoving.

Buffy's throat suddenly became dry, and little spots of light appeared behind her eyes. Her breathing echoed in her ears as she passed out.



She stood there on the balcony overlooking the river, deep in thought. This place had become her home, but she was so desperately needed elsewhere. If only everyone would just leave her alone in peace, she could continue on as she had always done. With the cool breeze against her face, she realized that wish was slowly becoming a lost reality. Closing her eyes, she let the serenity of the wood wash over her, let go of all thoughts and cast them out to mingle with the ever-rushing wind.

"It's time."

She turned her head slightly towards the speaker in acknowledgement. "I know."

She sighed heavily in reluctance. Leaving this place would mean giving up some of the control she so desperately clung to and placing her life within the hands of others. Was she really ready for that? Was she ready to take the risk of getting hurt, of putting herself in most certain danger? This was supposed to be her time to reflect, her time to mourn the losses that she had had no time to mourn in the past. However, time was not on her side. It never was.

"Are you coming?"

No response.

"Buffy?"



"Buffy."

"Five more minutes, mom," Buffy grumbled, rolling away from the soft voice that was trying to rouse her and putting a pillow over her ears.

"Buffy," it repeated once more, firmer this time.

Her eyes shot wide open as the masculine voice finally pierced her dream-addled brain. "Spike?"

"Hello, pet," he said smirking.

Her heart pounded a mile a minute, her mind working overtime in an attempt to comprehend what was going on. This wasn't right. Spike was dead; he shouldn't be here. She had the strongest urge to wipe that smug look off his face for finding her distress so amusing. Anger, relief, and something she couldn't quite identify flooded her all at once. She really didn't like feeling so confused.

"What the fuck is going on here?" she cried, anger and confusion coloring her voice.

"Well I couldn't let you have all the fun, now could I?" he drawled. "Epic battle and all."

"Cut the crap, Spike, and get on with the explainage."

Spike grew serious. "So I guess no one told you, then."

"Told me what?"

"That I'm alive."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock."

Spike chuckled. "No need to get testy now, love."

Buffy took a deep, calming breath and sat up. "Alright, please just explain to me how this all happened."

"Right, well I died because of that whole amulet thing, which you probably already knew. When I dusted, I sort of got sucked into it. Someone must have sent the amulet to the great poofter because the next thing I knew, I was in his office at evil incorporated. Yes, evil incorporated. Now let me finish. Anyway, I came back all ghostly, walking through walls and such. I couldn't leave the building either. Then one day a package was delivered to Wolfram and Hart, and when I opened it, boom, corporeal again." Spike frowned a bit. "Actually, it was more like a whoosh than a boom.

"So then Niblet wrote to me when she found out I'm alive and filled me in on what's going on with the Council and everything. We exchanged a couple letters, and in her third one she told me about an apocalypse that was about to happen in Middle Earth. She mentioned that you were going to be there, so I decided to come along."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Exactly how long were you corporeal before you decided to come here?"

"Couple months, I reckon."

Spike had no time to even think about dodging the punch to his nose.

"Bloody hell, woman! What was that for?" he cried, clutching his now very broken nose.

"You were corporeal that long and you didn't even think to come see me?" She was standing in front of him with her hands on her hips, a murderous glare taking up residence on her pretty face.

"Of course I did. I just..." He shifted his blue eyes to the floor.

"What?" Buffy demanded impatiently.

"Well if I came back after having died for you, it would make my sacrifice less... I don't know, valuable? I'm not sure if that's the right word for it but, in a way, it would mean that I had never died, that I just temporarily burned up and got transported somewhere else. The entire act would lose its meaning."

"If I opened your head right now and screamed into it there would be an echo."

"Huh?"

"Do you even possess a brain? Oh, I'm not going to go back to the woman that loves me because if I do, she'll be ungrateful for my sacrifice. What the hell kind of logic is that? It's the non-logical kind of logic, that's what it is!"

"The woman that loves me," he repeated to himself. He had never really let that thought sink in before, but now it felt very, very real.

Buffy's expression softened and she sat down in front of him once more. "Yes, you big dummy, the woman that loves you. Not that you believed it."

Spike's peroxide head shot up, his eyes meeting hers. "Of course I believed it. God, how I wanted nothing more than to just hold on to you and never let go. But you would've died if I did that, and that's just not something I could let happen. You have to understand; I did it for you."

"I do understand," Buffy said, sighing. "But that didn't make it hurt any less at the time."

"And I'm sorry for that. I really am. Trust me when I say I'll never ever do that again."

Buffy smirked. "Because the chance of denying my love to save me from death by collapsible school happens all the time."

Spike chuckled and turned to look out the window. It was very dark out, midnight at least. Remembering Aragorn's words of having a meeting early the next morning, or this morning as it were, Spike got up to leave. "Well, I guess I'll turn in for the night."

Before he could turn around, he was grabbed and flung on the bed, covered in warm slayer.

"Okay then, good-night Spike."

"Good-night, Buffy," he said, not bothering to keep the goofy grin off his face.

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Note: The whole Immortal thing with Buffy never happened, and Spike and Angel never went to see her. I haven't seen all the episodes in Angel season five, so I very well can't write about them, now can I?