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Chapter One
A/N: This was written after I rewatched Drop Dead Fred for the umpteenth time. Many thanks to PaganBaby for beta reading. Hope you enjoy :)
Chapter One
The first time she saw him, Buffy thought she was going crazy. It was understandable – she had been pulled out of heaven just a couple of weeks earlier, surely she could be forgiven for seeing things?
When she saw him again, she put it down to lack of sleep. Between getting back into slaying, trying to look after Dawn, and all-night drinking binges with Spike, she hadn’t been getting much rest. And no one else could see him - so hallucination was a logical conclusion.
When he began to appear four or five times a day – she saw him out the corner of her eye or reflected in the bathroom mirror, she fell into that good old Buffy standby – denial. She refused to believe that she was seeing things, because that would mean she was crazy, and being crazy? So not good.
When he became a constant presence, the shadow over her shoulder no matter where she went, what she did or who she saw, she began to get angry. Hadn’t she been through enough? She’d died and been ripped out of eternal rest only to be thrust back into the harsh, cold world and now she had to put up with a mystical stalker? It just wasn’t fair.
Unfortunately, the anger bubbled over when she was in the fresh fruit and veg aisle in the middle of the grocery store.
“What the hell are you?” she said, whirling around, waving a cucumber in the air menacingly. “And why have you been following me around for the past week?”
An old woman who had been busy counting brussel sprouts into a paper bag gave Buffy an alarmed look, and began edging towards the apples. “I’m sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else.”
The man – for this being who had followed her every move was definitely man-shaped, despite the little blue horns poking through his hair – smirked, but said nothing.
Buffy glared at him, and because he was standing right in front of Brussel Sprout Lady, it appeared as though the glare was directed at her.
“Are you all right, dear? Do you need me to call for some help?”
“Huh?” Buffy said, distractedly, as she studied the – what? Demon? Ghost? “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
The woman nodded, put her sprouts into her cart, and hurried away. Buffy watched her go with disinterested eyes, before turning her attention back to the thing before her.
“Well? What are you?”
“Darlin’, the polite thing to ask would be ‘Who are you?’” He had an odd accent, Scottish perhaps, softened with an American twang. “And it’s about time you said something to me. Been waiting all week for you to start a dialogue.”
“I thought I was seeing things,” Buffy replied, suddenly realising that she was attracting one too many strange looks from curious shoppers. She abandoned her half-filled cart next to the potatoes and made her way to the front of the store. Her stalker followed behind her, just like he had done all week.
Once they were out of the store, and a little way down the sidewalk, she turned back to him and placed her hands on her hips.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Well, who are you? What do you want with me?”
“Ned,” he stuck out his hand, “Ned McNabb. And I come in peace.”
All of her Slayer instincts were telling her not to trust this man, to catch him in a headlock and make him talk, but something else told her to wait it out, that he wouldn’t hurt her.
Buffy stared down at his outstretched hand in confusion, and then reached out slowly to grasp it, “Oh,” she said, “I expected you to be all… go-throughy. I’m Buffy, by the way.”
She began walking again, her subconscious automatically taking her to the nearest cemetery.
“I know,” Ned replied, “it’s kind of my job to know.”
“Your job?” Buffy said, raising an eyebrow. Now it seemed they were getting to the crux of the matter.
“Yep,” Ned reached into the pocket of his loose-fitting plaid pants, and pulled out a square of yellow card, which he then handed to Buffy.
She glanced down at the card, eyes widening as she read the words printed in purple ink.
NED MCNABB
Professional Imaginary Friend
Since 1907
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Buffy said, squeezing her eyes closed and praying that when she opened them, Ned would have disappeared. No such luck.
“Nope, no kidding here,” he bounced on the balls of his feet, and looked around. “A graveyard, huh? Nice place to go for a twilight stroll.”
“This is kinda my job,” she said, and rubbed her temples. She felt a headache coming on. “Look, who’s put you up to this? Was it whoever did the crazy time loop-de-loop with the evil mummy hand?”
“Hey, no one put me up to this but you. See, I get assigned lost souls – the people who need a shoulder to cry on, or some sort of guidance in their life. You’re my new assignment.”
Buffy groaned. “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”
“You can say it as many times as you like, darlin’, but I’m not going to go away. Not until you’ve resolved whatever issue you have.”
“Issue! Geez, have you met me? My whole life is one long issue!” Her face fell. “God, I’m never going to be rid of you, am I?”
“I’m going to be here until you’ve got yourself back on track,” Ned said, then reached out to pat her shoulder comfortingly. “Most people get over whatever problem they’re having within a month of meeting their Imaginary Friend.”
“Yeah?” Buffy snorted, “Well do most people risk their lives nightly saving the world from demon threats? Have they been pulled out of heaven by their best friends? Do they have a little sister who’s turning into a juvenile delinquent and is probably going to be taken away by social services? Or hey, have these people got their very own pet vampire whose idea of a good time is to follow the Slayer around making puppy-dog eyes?”
She’d started pacing during her tirade, arms gesticulating wildly, and Ned looked scared.
“Er, not quite,” he said, “but I’m sure if we take it little by little, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
“Can’t you just leave now? Tell your bosses or whoever that my issues are sorted, yada yada yada?”
“No can do,” Ned shook his head, “I’m stuck here until your life is sorted out.”
“Get ready for a long stay,” Buffy said.
“I’m starting to realise that,” Ned frowned. “I knew I should have taken the mass murderer in Kansas City.”
**
Spike plunged the stake into the fledgling’s heart, and grinned when it exploded into dust. Call him a traitor to his kind, but watching a vamp dust was always satisfying.
He shook out his coat, brushing off the ashes that clung to the leather, and lit a cigarette. He’d killed five vamps already, perhaps it was time to call it a night and head to Willy’s. That, or see if he could track down the Slayer.
A distant voice caught his attention, and he smirked as he heard Buffy ranting at something.
Spike took a last drag of his cigarette, then crushed it to the ground beneath his boot and set off in the direction of her voice.
He closed his eyes slightly as he walked, calling forth a mental picture of what she would look like: all fire and passion, long blonde hair bouncing enticingly as she fought, a stake in one hand as she kicked and punched her way to victory. Her face would be flushed with exertion and she’d end the fight with a witty pun. She would be perfect.
Spike finally came across the Slayer next to the old Anderson tomb. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair did bounce enticingly, but there was no stake and no demon.
Just Buffy, pacing up and down, waving her hands around in the air, and talking to herself.
“Can’t you just leave now? Tell your bosses or whoever that my issues are sorted, yada yada yada?”
He watched as she cocked her head, as though listening to something, then put her hands on her hips.
“Get ready for a long stay,” she said. Spike glanced around, looking for whoever she might be talking to. There was no one else there: they were alone in the cemetery.
“Talking to yourself, Slayer?” he said, unable to keep quiet for any longer.
Buffy jumped, and turned to him in surprise. “Spike!” She groaned. “Great, my other stalker.”
“What you on about?” Spike frowned. Other?
She didn’t answer, just turned to face away from him, eyes concentrated on an empty piece of grass. “Well I think I should be able to,” she said, pouting. “They’ll all think I’m crazy.”
Spike scratched his head. “You all right, Slayer?”
When she didn’t answer, and continued talking to thin air, Spike rolled his eyes.
“Why do I always go for the loony ones?”
Chapter One
The first time she saw him, Buffy thought she was going crazy. It was understandable – she had been pulled out of heaven just a couple of weeks earlier, surely she could be forgiven for seeing things?
When she saw him again, she put it down to lack of sleep. Between getting back into slaying, trying to look after Dawn, and all-night drinking binges with Spike, she hadn’t been getting much rest. And no one else could see him - so hallucination was a logical conclusion.
When he began to appear four or five times a day – she saw him out the corner of her eye or reflected in the bathroom mirror, she fell into that good old Buffy standby – denial. She refused to believe that she was seeing things, because that would mean she was crazy, and being crazy? So not good.
When he became a constant presence, the shadow over her shoulder no matter where she went, what she did or who she saw, she began to get angry. Hadn’t she been through enough? She’d died and been ripped out of eternal rest only to be thrust back into the harsh, cold world and now she had to put up with a mystical stalker? It just wasn’t fair.
Unfortunately, the anger bubbled over when she was in the fresh fruit and veg aisle in the middle of the grocery store.
“What the hell are you?” she said, whirling around, waving a cucumber in the air menacingly. “And why have you been following me around for the past week?”
An old woman who had been busy counting brussel sprouts into a paper bag gave Buffy an alarmed look, and began edging towards the apples. “I’m sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else.”
The man – for this being who had followed her every move was definitely man-shaped, despite the little blue horns poking through his hair – smirked, but said nothing.
Buffy glared at him, and because he was standing right in front of Brussel Sprout Lady, it appeared as though the glare was directed at her.
“Are you all right, dear? Do you need me to call for some help?”
“Huh?” Buffy said, distractedly, as she studied the – what? Demon? Ghost? “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
The woman nodded, put her sprouts into her cart, and hurried away. Buffy watched her go with disinterested eyes, before turning her attention back to the thing before her.
“Well? What are you?”
“Darlin’, the polite thing to ask would be ‘Who are you?’” He had an odd accent, Scottish perhaps, softened with an American twang. “And it’s about time you said something to me. Been waiting all week for you to start a dialogue.”
“I thought I was seeing things,” Buffy replied, suddenly realising that she was attracting one too many strange looks from curious shoppers. She abandoned her half-filled cart next to the potatoes and made her way to the front of the store. Her stalker followed behind her, just like he had done all week.
Once they were out of the store, and a little way down the sidewalk, she turned back to him and placed her hands on her hips.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Well, who are you? What do you want with me?”
“Ned,” he stuck out his hand, “Ned McNabb. And I come in peace.”
All of her Slayer instincts were telling her not to trust this man, to catch him in a headlock and make him talk, but something else told her to wait it out, that he wouldn’t hurt her.
Buffy stared down at his outstretched hand in confusion, and then reached out slowly to grasp it, “Oh,” she said, “I expected you to be all… go-throughy. I’m Buffy, by the way.”
She began walking again, her subconscious automatically taking her to the nearest cemetery.
“I know,” Ned replied, “it’s kind of my job to know.”
“Your job?” Buffy said, raising an eyebrow. Now it seemed they were getting to the crux of the matter.
“Yep,” Ned reached into the pocket of his loose-fitting plaid pants, and pulled out a square of yellow card, which he then handed to Buffy.
She glanced down at the card, eyes widening as she read the words printed in purple ink.
Professional Imaginary Friend
Since 1907
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Buffy said, squeezing her eyes closed and praying that when she opened them, Ned would have disappeared. No such luck.
“Nope, no kidding here,” he bounced on the balls of his feet, and looked around. “A graveyard, huh? Nice place to go for a twilight stroll.”
“This is kinda my job,” she said, and rubbed her temples. She felt a headache coming on. “Look, who’s put you up to this? Was it whoever did the crazy time loop-de-loop with the evil mummy hand?”
“Hey, no one put me up to this but you. See, I get assigned lost souls – the people who need a shoulder to cry on, or some sort of guidance in their life. You’re my new assignment.”
Buffy groaned. “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”
“You can say it as many times as you like, darlin’, but I’m not going to go away. Not until you’ve resolved whatever issue you have.”
“Issue! Geez, have you met me? My whole life is one long issue!” Her face fell. “God, I’m never going to be rid of you, am I?”
“I’m going to be here until you’ve got yourself back on track,” Ned said, then reached out to pat her shoulder comfortingly. “Most people get over whatever problem they’re having within a month of meeting their Imaginary Friend.”
“Yeah?” Buffy snorted, “Well do most people risk their lives nightly saving the world from demon threats? Have they been pulled out of heaven by their best friends? Do they have a little sister who’s turning into a juvenile delinquent and is probably going to be taken away by social services? Or hey, have these people got their very own pet vampire whose idea of a good time is to follow the Slayer around making puppy-dog eyes?”
She’d started pacing during her tirade, arms gesticulating wildly, and Ned looked scared.
“Er, not quite,” he said, “but I’m sure if we take it little by little, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
“Can’t you just leave now? Tell your bosses or whoever that my issues are sorted, yada yada yada?”
“No can do,” Ned shook his head, “I’m stuck here until your life is sorted out.”
“Get ready for a long stay,” Buffy said.
“I’m starting to realise that,” Ned frowned. “I knew I should have taken the mass murderer in Kansas City.”
**
Spike plunged the stake into the fledgling’s heart, and grinned when it exploded into dust. Call him a traitor to his kind, but watching a vamp dust was always satisfying.
He shook out his coat, brushing off the ashes that clung to the leather, and lit a cigarette. He’d killed five vamps already, perhaps it was time to call it a night and head to Willy’s. That, or see if he could track down the Slayer.
A distant voice caught his attention, and he smirked as he heard Buffy ranting at something.
Spike took a last drag of his cigarette, then crushed it to the ground beneath his boot and set off in the direction of her voice.
He closed his eyes slightly as he walked, calling forth a mental picture of what she would look like: all fire and passion, long blonde hair bouncing enticingly as she fought, a stake in one hand as she kicked and punched her way to victory. Her face would be flushed with exertion and she’d end the fight with a witty pun. She would be perfect.
Spike finally came across the Slayer next to the old Anderson tomb. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair did bounce enticingly, but there was no stake and no demon.
Just Buffy, pacing up and down, waving her hands around in the air, and talking to herself.
“Can’t you just leave now? Tell your bosses or whoever that my issues are sorted, yada yada yada?”
He watched as she cocked her head, as though listening to something, then put her hands on her hips.
“Get ready for a long stay,” she said. Spike glanced around, looking for whoever she might be talking to. There was no one else there: they were alone in the cemetery.
“Talking to yourself, Slayer?” he said, unable to keep quiet for any longer.
Buffy jumped, and turned to him in surprise. “Spike!” She groaned. “Great, my other stalker.”
“What you on about?” Spike frowned. Other?
She didn’t answer, just turned to face away from him, eyes concentrated on an empty piece of grass. “Well I think I should be able to,” she said, pouting. “They’ll all think I’m crazy.”
Spike scratched his head. “You all right, Slayer?”
When she didn’t answer, and continued talking to thin air, Spike rolled his eyes.
“Why do I always go for the loony ones?”
Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Buffy managed to give Spike some pathetic excuse about needing to be home for Dawn before hightailing it out of Restfield and towards Revello Drive, her new Imaginary Friend hot on her heels.
She’d left Spike standing next to the Anderson crypt, scratching his head and the cutest look of confusion on his face. She frowned as her thoughts caught up with her. Bad Buffy, no thinking Spike is cute!
Ned trotted alongside her, chattering about his previous assignment – a seven-year-old girl in New York, who’d been recently orphaned, who he’d stayed with for a year until she settled with a foster family. Buffy tuned him out when he started talking about a game he and little Stephy had played, and turned her thoughts to more pressing matters.
She was a recently deceased twenty-year-old vampire slayer with a mystical Key for a sister, a lovesick vampire hanging on her every word, a power-hungry witch as a best friend, and now she was all that and had an Imaginary Friend. Life sucked.
Just the fact that Ned had been sent to her in the first place threw her for a loop. Yes, okay, she had issues but didn’t everyone? Xander had issues – big, life-changing, marriage issues – but did he get an Imaginary Friend? Surely Dawn was the poster-child for the soul-searching services of Ned McNabb, not her?
She sighed.
“What’s up, darlin’?” Ned asked.
“Nothing,” Buffy said, “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Ned sighed. “First rule of having me as your Imaginary Friend: no lying. You lie, we get nowhere, I stick around for years and years. So you tell me what’s bothering you, and I try to help. See?”
“Fine,” she heaved a sigh and gazed at the surface of the road. There were potholes. “I guess I just don’t understand why I of all people need the Imaginary Friend – there are plenty of others out there with problems, too.”
“And a whole host of them will be getting help from one of us, too,” Ned said.
Buffy stared. “This kind of thing happens a lot? Why don’t I ever see other people talking to thin air then?”
“Because once most of them realise what’s going on, they tend to keep their conversations with their Imaginary Friend private.”
“Oh,” Buffy frowned, “but what if I need to talk to you when there are other people around? I can’t tell them I have an Imaginary Friend, they’ll think I’m nuts.”
Ned shrugged. “Them’s the breaks, darlin’. You want to make a start on sorting out your troubles?”
“Nope, we’re home now, and my bed is calling to me. I need to at least try and get some sleep.”
“Not been sleeping well, huh?”
“I was resurrected from heaven less than a month ago. What do you think?”
“No need to get all sarcastic on me. See, we’ve already found your first issue, and it’s an easy fix.”
“It is?”
“Yep. Come here,” he beckoned her over and placed his hands on either side of her head. Buffy flinched, not entirely comfortable with Ned getting so close to her. “Relax, this will help.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Okay, done. You’ll sleep easy tonight.”
“You never told me you had magical powers.”
“You never asked,” Ned grinned, “and that’s one problem out of the way. You’re one step closer to getting me out of your life forever.”
“And that makes for a happy Buffy.” She yawned, and felt a prickling behind her eyes. “Guess it worked.”
They had arrived at the house a few moments before the mind-meldy sleeping pill, so Buffy stumbled through the front door, feeling sleepier with every step she took. She peeked in at Dawn, who was snoring away, then staggered to her room and collapsed on her bed.
“Sweet dreams,” Ned whispered, as he faded into the shadows.
***
“So, what are you dressing up as for Halloween?” Ned asked, grinning at her in the mirror as she applied her make-up.
“I’m not,” Buffy replied wryly. “Me and Halloween are like chalk and cheese. You wouldn’t want chalk with your cheese for a buffet, and you wouldn’t want Halloween with your Buffy.” She frowned. Not quite the analogy she was going for.
“Aw, come on! It’ll be fun. Tell you what, we’ll get matching outfits. I’ll be… Superman and you can be Lois – or, hey how about James Bond and one of his ladies? A classic.”
“No one else can see you, remember? So I’m thinking that matching costumes? A big waste of time.”
“We could be Luke and Leia, or hey – how about Batman and Robin? I’d be Batman of course…”
Buffy rolled her eyes and left the room, leaving Ned to his delusions. No force on earth could get her to dress up for Halloween this year, not even her annoying Imaginary Friend.
She knocked on Dawn’s bedroom door. “Dawnie, you up? I’m making breakfast.”
Her sister’s muffled voice mumbled something incoherent, and Buffy sighed.
“Fine, get your own breakfast, see if I care.” She headed downstairs to the kitchen, grumbling under her breath all the way, only to find Ned perched on the kitchen counter.
“How did you get down here?”
“Teleportation,” Ned winked, “perk of the job.”
“Great.”
“You all right, darlin’?”
“I’m great. Everything’s great, just great.” She slammed an empty bowl onto the counter and poured a small amount of cereal into it, topping it with yoghurt from the fridge.
“Cereal?” Ned asked, “Not very substantial.”
“If Dawn had bothered to get up then I’d have done pancakes or something. But no, she gets to lay in bed whilst the rest of us have to deal with life.”
“You could do with feeding up a bit, darlin’. You’re all skin and bones.”
Buffy glared at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “That couldn’t possibly be due to the fact that not too long ago I was all skin and bones now, could it?”
“I’m just saying,” he held his hands out in a placatory manner, then took a small spiral-bound notebook from his pocket and started scribbling in it.
“What are you writing?” Buffy asked, trying to peer over his shoulder.
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Well you’re obviously writing something, and it’s obviously about me. So fess up, let me see.” She clenched her fist threateningly.
Ned sighed, and handed her the notebook, muttering under his breath.
“Really wish I’d got that murderer in Kansas.”
Buffy glared at him and glanced down at the oddly neat script on the page.
1. Sleep issues – prescribed one small dose of tinneas-cadalach, will enable her to sleep better at night for some time
2. Sister issues – seems to feel resentment to sister for being a teenager
3. Post-resurrection issues – has not come to terms with liv
She turned seething eyes on Ned, and threw the notebook back across the counter.
“So nice to see that my issues can be condensed down into neat little sentences. I don’t resent Dawn for being a teenager, so you can cross that off your little list. And what’s this tinnitus thing anyway? What did you do to me?”
“Tinneas-cadalach – it means sleeping sickness.”
“You gave me a sickness? Yeah, okay, it was nice to sleep through the night for once but you didn’t have to give me some disease-”
She cut off as the back door slammed open and Spike ran in under the cover of a steaming blanket.
“And my morning is complete,” she threw her arms up in the air in frustration. “God, save me from skinny annoying men!”
“All right, Slayer?” Spike asked, shucking the blanket onto the floor and arranging himself in a highly casual pose by the fridge.
“No!” She pressed her palms into her eyes and took a deep breath. One thing at a time. She turned to Spike. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “Got bored. Couldn’t sleep.”
“So you thought it would be a good idea to go out in the sunshine? Cos you know, vampires who take daytime strolls usually have a dusty ending.”
“Got my blanket, don’t I?” Spike smirked. “Worried about me dusting, are you?”
“As if,” Buffy snorted, then saw Ned writing something in his little notebook. “What are you writing?”
Ned glanced up sheepishly, but didn’t try to hide the book. He’d obviously learned that he didn’t want to get on her bad side.
“Writing?” Spike had an oddly guilty expression on his face. “Who said I was writing anything?”
“Um… not you. Nevermind.” She peered over Ned’s shoulder to see that he’d added a number four to his list.
4. Unresolved romantic issues with resident vampire.
“I suggest you put that away and get the hell out of my sight,” Buffy said slowly, her voice tight with suppressed anger.
Ned sighed and stuffed the notebook back in his pocket, before popping out of existence. Buffy closed her eyes in relief. One down.
“Well fine!” Spike cried, and Buffy turned to see that he’d rummaged in the fridge and found a donut. He threw it down on the counter, gave Buffy a look that was half-disgust, half-lust, picked up his blanket and stormed out into the daylight.
Buffy sank down onto one of the stools and glanced at the kitchen clock. Only nine forty-five, and already the day from hell.
At least it couldn’t get any worse.
Buffy managed to give Spike some pathetic excuse about needing to be home for Dawn before hightailing it out of Restfield and towards Revello Drive, her new Imaginary Friend hot on her heels.
She’d left Spike standing next to the Anderson crypt, scratching his head and the cutest look of confusion on his face. She frowned as her thoughts caught up with her. Bad Buffy, no thinking Spike is cute!
Ned trotted alongside her, chattering about his previous assignment – a seven-year-old girl in New York, who’d been recently orphaned, who he’d stayed with for a year until she settled with a foster family. Buffy tuned him out when he started talking about a game he and little Stephy had played, and turned her thoughts to more pressing matters.
She was a recently deceased twenty-year-old vampire slayer with a mystical Key for a sister, a lovesick vampire hanging on her every word, a power-hungry witch as a best friend, and now she was all that and had an Imaginary Friend. Life sucked.
Just the fact that Ned had been sent to her in the first place threw her for a loop. Yes, okay, she had issues but didn’t everyone? Xander had issues – big, life-changing, marriage issues – but did he get an Imaginary Friend? Surely Dawn was the poster-child for the soul-searching services of Ned McNabb, not her?
She sighed.
“What’s up, darlin’?” Ned asked.
“Nothing,” Buffy said, “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Ned sighed. “First rule of having me as your Imaginary Friend: no lying. You lie, we get nowhere, I stick around for years and years. So you tell me what’s bothering you, and I try to help. See?”
“Fine,” she heaved a sigh and gazed at the surface of the road. There were potholes. “I guess I just don’t understand why I of all people need the Imaginary Friend – there are plenty of others out there with problems, too.”
“And a whole host of them will be getting help from one of us, too,” Ned said.
Buffy stared. “This kind of thing happens a lot? Why don’t I ever see other people talking to thin air then?”
“Because once most of them realise what’s going on, they tend to keep their conversations with their Imaginary Friend private.”
“Oh,” Buffy frowned, “but what if I need to talk to you when there are other people around? I can’t tell them I have an Imaginary Friend, they’ll think I’m nuts.”
Ned shrugged. “Them’s the breaks, darlin’. You want to make a start on sorting out your troubles?”
“Nope, we’re home now, and my bed is calling to me. I need to at least try and get some sleep.”
“Not been sleeping well, huh?”
“I was resurrected from heaven less than a month ago. What do you think?”
“No need to get all sarcastic on me. See, we’ve already found your first issue, and it’s an easy fix.”
“It is?”
“Yep. Come here,” he beckoned her over and placed his hands on either side of her head. Buffy flinched, not entirely comfortable with Ned getting so close to her. “Relax, this will help.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Okay, done. You’ll sleep easy tonight.”
“You never told me you had magical powers.”
“You never asked,” Ned grinned, “and that’s one problem out of the way. You’re one step closer to getting me out of your life forever.”
“And that makes for a happy Buffy.” She yawned, and felt a prickling behind her eyes. “Guess it worked.”
They had arrived at the house a few moments before the mind-meldy sleeping pill, so Buffy stumbled through the front door, feeling sleepier with every step she took. She peeked in at Dawn, who was snoring away, then staggered to her room and collapsed on her bed.
“Sweet dreams,” Ned whispered, as he faded into the shadows.
***
“So, what are you dressing up as for Halloween?” Ned asked, grinning at her in the mirror as she applied her make-up.
“I’m not,” Buffy replied wryly. “Me and Halloween are like chalk and cheese. You wouldn’t want chalk with your cheese for a buffet, and you wouldn’t want Halloween with your Buffy.” She frowned. Not quite the analogy she was going for.
“Aw, come on! It’ll be fun. Tell you what, we’ll get matching outfits. I’ll be… Superman and you can be Lois – or, hey how about James Bond and one of his ladies? A classic.”
“No one else can see you, remember? So I’m thinking that matching costumes? A big waste of time.”
“We could be Luke and Leia, or hey – how about Batman and Robin? I’d be Batman of course…”
Buffy rolled her eyes and left the room, leaving Ned to his delusions. No force on earth could get her to dress up for Halloween this year, not even her annoying Imaginary Friend.
She knocked on Dawn’s bedroom door. “Dawnie, you up? I’m making breakfast.”
Her sister’s muffled voice mumbled something incoherent, and Buffy sighed.
“Fine, get your own breakfast, see if I care.” She headed downstairs to the kitchen, grumbling under her breath all the way, only to find Ned perched on the kitchen counter.
“How did you get down here?”
“Teleportation,” Ned winked, “perk of the job.”
“Great.”
“You all right, darlin’?”
“I’m great. Everything’s great, just great.” She slammed an empty bowl onto the counter and poured a small amount of cereal into it, topping it with yoghurt from the fridge.
“Cereal?” Ned asked, “Not very substantial.”
“If Dawn had bothered to get up then I’d have done pancakes or something. But no, she gets to lay in bed whilst the rest of us have to deal with life.”
“You could do with feeding up a bit, darlin’. You’re all skin and bones.”
Buffy glared at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “That couldn’t possibly be due to the fact that not too long ago I was all skin and bones now, could it?”
“I’m just saying,” he held his hands out in a placatory manner, then took a small spiral-bound notebook from his pocket and started scribbling in it.
“What are you writing?” Buffy asked, trying to peer over his shoulder.
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Well you’re obviously writing something, and it’s obviously about me. So fess up, let me see.” She clenched her fist threateningly.
Ned sighed, and handed her the notebook, muttering under his breath.
“Really wish I’d got that murderer in Kansas.”
Buffy glared at him and glanced down at the oddly neat script on the page.
1. Sleep issues – prescribed one small dose of tinneas-cadalach, will enable her to sleep better at night for some time
2. Sister issues – seems to feel resentment to sister for being a teenager
3. Post-resurrection issues – has not come to terms with liv
She turned seething eyes on Ned, and threw the notebook back across the counter.
“So nice to see that my issues can be condensed down into neat little sentences. I don’t resent Dawn for being a teenager, so you can cross that off your little list. And what’s this tinnitus thing anyway? What did you do to me?”
“Tinneas-cadalach – it means sleeping sickness.”
“You gave me a sickness? Yeah, okay, it was nice to sleep through the night for once but you didn’t have to give me some disease-”
She cut off as the back door slammed open and Spike ran in under the cover of a steaming blanket.
“And my morning is complete,” she threw her arms up in the air in frustration. “God, save me from skinny annoying men!”
“All right, Slayer?” Spike asked, shucking the blanket onto the floor and arranging himself in a highly casual pose by the fridge.
“No!” She pressed her palms into her eyes and took a deep breath. One thing at a time. She turned to Spike. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “Got bored. Couldn’t sleep.”
“So you thought it would be a good idea to go out in the sunshine? Cos you know, vampires who take daytime strolls usually have a dusty ending.”
“Got my blanket, don’t I?” Spike smirked. “Worried about me dusting, are you?”
“As if,” Buffy snorted, then saw Ned writing something in his little notebook. “What are you writing?”
Ned glanced up sheepishly, but didn’t try to hide the book. He’d obviously learned that he didn’t want to get on her bad side.
“Writing?” Spike had an oddly guilty expression on his face. “Who said I was writing anything?”
“Um… not you. Nevermind.” She peered over Ned’s shoulder to see that he’d added a number four to his list.
4. Unresolved romantic issues with resident vampire.
“I suggest you put that away and get the hell out of my sight,” Buffy said slowly, her voice tight with suppressed anger.
Ned sighed and stuffed the notebook back in his pocket, before popping out of existence. Buffy closed her eyes in relief. One down.
“Well fine!” Spike cried, and Buffy turned to see that he’d rummaged in the fridge and found a donut. He threw it down on the counter, gave Buffy a look that was half-disgust, half-lust, picked up his blanket and stormed out into the daylight.
Buffy sank down onto one of the stools and glanced at the kitchen clock. Only nine forty-five, and already the day from hell.
At least it couldn’t get any worse.
Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Buffy was bored. She’d gone to the Magic Box with the expectation of finding out about some new evil to fight, but Sunnydale had been oddly quiet of late – nothing but the annoyingly random occurrences that seemed to only happen around her.
Anya was prattling on about the Halloween sale the following day, saying the same things about profit margins and stock replenishment over and over and over again. Giles was busy working in his office, and Buffy thought that he had the right idea in staying out of the ex-demon’s way.
Willow and Tara looked just as fed up, but every so often they’d put their heads together to whisper and giggle. Xander looked like he was paying attention to his girlfriend, but his eyes were glazed over.
Buffy was just contemplating heading over to Spike’s crypt and consuming more of his alcohol, when there was a loud crack, and Ned appeared, perched on the counter behind Anya. He grinned at her, and she groaned, putting her head in her hands.
“Buffy?” Willow said, her voice taking on that permanently worried tone she’d been using around her since she’d come back.
“Yeah?” Buffy raised her head to look at her friends, studiously ignoring Ned who was making bunny ears behind Anya.
“Everything all right, Buff?” Xander asked, finally coming out of his stupor, looking glad that something had interrupted Anya’s monologue.
“I’m fine,” Buffy said, attempting a smile. “Really.”
“All right,” Xander looked dubious.
“So!” Buffy said, feigning cheerfulness, “There must be some evil thing out there that needs a good killing. So I’m going to go and do that.”
She stood up and started towards the training room, intent on finding weapons. She was glad to see that Ned didn’t follow, instead remaining seated on the counter. Unfortunately, he was writing in his stupid notebook.
A nice slim dagger and a trusty stake made their way into her pockets, and she pulled on her coat with an air of satisfaction. She may have lost most of her motivation for slaying since coming back from the dead, but anything was better than having to listen to Anya for the rest of the night.
“I’m going to patrol,” she announced, and received various nods of acknowledgement before the Scoobies went back to their own thing.
She frowned. Before… before she had died, her friends had often helped with patrol, and whilst they weren’t the most skilled fighters, it had been nice to have the company.
Nowadays, all she had was Spike, who admittedly was a bigger help, but hello? Annoying! Although she had to admit, he’d been a lot less aggravating lately, quieter and willing to listen to her talk, or just to sit with her in silence. And he was good to get drunk with, and boy wasn’t that sounding like a nice idea right about now?
“Seemed a little tense in there,” came a voice from behind her, and she jumped, cursing herself when she realised that it was only Ned. She hadn’t seen him follow her out the store, but then again with his fancy teleportation tricks, who knew if he even had?
“Mind your own business,” she answered finally.
“You are my business, darlin’,” he grinned. “So, we’re patrolling?”
“I am patrolling,” Buffy said, “you are following me around like an unwanted puppy. What were you writing in your notebook?”
If he was surprised at the swift change of topic, Ned said nothing and simply handed her the book. Buffy smiled inwardly. Only a day since she’d met him and he already knew not to mess with her.
5. Resentment towards friends for resurrection plot
6. Antipathy towards calling
She handed him back the book in silence, and carried on walking towards Restfield.
“What, no snarky comment?”
Buffy shrugged. “It’s true. I do resent them for bringing me back and I’m so not feeling connected to the Slayer side of me right now.”
“At last!” Ned shouted, and did a little jig on the spot. “She agrees with me!”
“I still think numbers two and four on your list are flawed,” she said.
“Yeah?” Ned smirked, “So why are we off to visit ol’ Spikey then?”
“We’re not, I’m patrolling!” Buffy protested, then looked around sheepishly. They were standing a few feet away from Spike’s crypt.
“What?” she said defiantly, as Ned shot her a knowing look. “This is a cemetery. Evil stuff happens here.”
“And your resident evil is on his way over,” Ned replied, melting back into the shadows.
“Huh? Isn’t that a video game?”
“Is what a video game, Slayer?” Spike’s deep voice intoned from behind her. She whirled around to see the bleached vampire leaning nonchalantly in front of a statue of an angel, the way he was standing making it look as though the wide stone wings were attached to his back. And wasn’t that ironic?
“Er… nothing.” Mentally, she cursed Ned. He was going to make her look as insane as Drusilla before very long.
“So, what’s up? We goin’ patrolling?” Spike pushed himself away from the statue and came to stand beside her. Buffy could clearly see Ned’s bright green and red plaid pants reflecting in the moonlight, but Spike didn’t notice him at all.
“I’m going patrolling. I guess you can tag along.” Buffy pulled her stake from her pocket and set off.
“Nice to be wanted,” Spike said, following behind her.
“Want? There’s no wanting. Nuh-uh.”
Spike eyed her dubiously, a smile in his voice. “Whatever you say, Slayer. Whatever you say.”
***
The following day was Halloween, and despite Ned’s encouragement, Buffy flat-out refused to wear a costume. She, along with all of the other Scoobies, had been pulled into helping out at the Magic Box, and Anya wanted them all there bright and early to help set up. Joy.
Ned was nowhere to be seen for the majority of the day, for which Buffy was thankful. Working retail on a major holiday was stressful enough, but having to put up with an annoying Imaginary Friend would put her stress levels through the roof.
Giles had her on bagging duty, and the work was monotonous and dull, but strangely soothing. The day passed in a blur of bright colours, candy and costumes and when Dawn flipped the ‘closed’ sign at the end of the day, it was with a strange sense of accomplishment that she sat down at the research table.
“Good day?” Ned had appeared from nowhere, and was sitting next to her.
Buffy spoke without thinking and nodded. “Not bad, but my feet are killing me.”
“What was that, Buffy?” Giles asked, looking up from the day’s receipts.
Buffy sighed. She had to stop answering Ned when other people were around. She glared at him, but he just rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out.
“I said, my feet are killing me. What say we head home and leave the clean-up til tomorrow?”
“But tomorrow’s the post-holiday clearance! And a messy store will not encourage customers to give me their money.”
“I could whip up a jaunty self-cleaning incantation,” Willow suggested eagerly, “it’ll be just like Fantasia.”
“Yes, and we know how splendidly that turned out for Mickey,” Giles said, the sarcasm heavy in his voice. “I agree with Buffy. I suggest we all head home and get a good night’s sleep, then return bright and early in the morning.”
They did a quick clean up of the worst of the mess, then left the store en masse, turning off in their different directions with shouted ‘good night’s’ and ‘see you tomorrow’s’.
“Can we go see Spike?” Dawn asked as they started walking home. “He hasn’t been by in a while. I miss him.”
“I don’t know, Dawnie…” Buffy frowned. She’d known on some level that Spike had helped take care of Dawn when she’d been gone, and that her little sister considered him somewhat of a friend, but she couldn’t really condone them hanging out together, could she?
“Aw, come on, it’s Halloween! The least we could do is go and say hi to a vampire on Halloween.”
“Vamps don’t celebrate Halloween,” Buffy said.
“Spike does,” Dawn pouted, “he told me that he was going to get pissed and watch scary movies. Although why he wants to get angry before watching them I have no clue.”
“Pissed is British for drunk, Dawnie.”
“And you know this how?” Dawn shot her a sly grin, “Been hanging out with Spike a lot?”
“What? No, of course not. I just watch a lot of er… that show. Eastenders.”
“You’ve never watched an episode of that in your life, Buffy.”
“Sure I did! That… one time…” She trailed off. Dawn was giggling. “Oh, shut up. Fine, we’ll go visit Spike.”
She put an arm around her sister’s shoulder and they set off towards the cemetery. Ned followed behind, a satisfied smile on his face.
***
She pushed open the door to Spike’s crypt slowly, more than aware that if she didn't have Dawn with her, she’d have slammed it open without a care.
“Spike? You in here?”
The TV was on, the black and white picture flickering in the gloom, and a couple of candles were lit, but there was no sign of the blond vampire.
“Is he here?” Dawn asked, peering into the darkness.
“Slayer? Niblet?” Spike’s head poked through the hole in the floor, followed by the rest of his body as he clambered out. “All right?”
“Dawn wanted to come by and say Happy Halloween,” Buffy rushed to explain, her cheeks colouring as Spike’s eyes widened. “So here we are. Er, Happy Halloween!”
Spike still looked shocked as he ushered them towards the couch, pressing cans of cold Coke into their hands. Buffy thought how weird it was that a vampire had better manners than some of the people she’d met in the past.
“So then Dean, you remember me telling you about Dean, right? So Dean tells Kirsty that he wouldn’t go out with her if she was the only girl in school, so then Amber gets all ‘oh, you can’t talk about my friend that way’. It was a whole big mess. But way cool to see Kirsty put down like that.”
“Yeah? Bit of a Queen Bee then is she, this Kirsty?”
“Yeah, total bee-yatch,” Dawn rolled her eyes. “Hey, did I tell you about…”
Buffy tuned Dawn out. Was this what it had been like over the summer when she’d been gone? Both Dawn and Spike seemed to have forgotten she was even there. She pouted.
A flash of red and green caught her eye and she turned to see Ned sitting cross-legged on the floor next to her. He waved cheerfully.
Buffy looked at her sister and Spike, they were still engrossed in their conversation, but Spike kept flicking sidelong glances towards her.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed at Ned, pitching her voice low. “No issues right now, so leave!”
Ned shook his head but didn’t say anything.
“Please? Can’t I have five minutes without you appearing over my shoulder?”
He just smiled.
“Buffy?” Dawn’s eyes were wide with worry. “Who were you talking to?”
“No one,” Buffy answered quickly, sending one last scowl at Ned.
“But you were,” Dawn said.
“No I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were!”
“No-”
“All right!” Spike yelled. “Sorry, Slayer, but the Bit’s right. You were talking to someone. Come to think of it, you were doing the same thing when I saw you a couple of days ago. Are you… is everything okay?”
Buffy took a deep breath, cursing Ned and inquisitive vampires.
“There’s nothing wrong. Everything’s fine. Dawnie, I think we should go home.”
Dawn pouted. “But I’m having fun. Spike said that Beetlejuice is on soon… come on, you know you love that movie.”
Buffy sighed. “Fine, we’ll stay.” She sat back on the couch, trying not to notice how little space there was between her leg and Spike’s. When she was sure that Spike and Dawn were immersed in the television, she turned slightly towards Ned, and mouthed, “Not. Another. Word.”
He made a lip-zipping motion and directed his attention towards the television.
***
Buffy yawned and stretched, feeling the muscles in her back pop. She felt comfortable and strangely warm for being in a crypt. She stretched again, arching her neck and wiggling her fingers.
She froze. Wait a minute… She sat up abruptly and blushed as she realised just where her hand had been resting. She slid down the couch a little, remaining silent and kept her eyes away from Spike. She just knew he was smirking.
“Nice nap, Slayer?”
Buffy stood up, brushing imaginary lint from her shirt. “I think it’s time Dawn and I went home.”
Spike shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He leaned over to wake Dawn, who mumbled in her sleep before reluctantly awakening.
“Dawn, we’re leaving.”
Dawn nodded, too tired to make any objections. Buffy quickly looked around for Ned, but could see him nowhere, and so she guessed he’d teleported himself somewhere. Good.
“Bye, Spike,” Dawn said, giving him a little wave.
Spike nodded and smiled. “Night, Niblet, Slayer.”
Buffy was about to turn and leave when all of a sudden she was propelled forwards by a surprisingly strong push to her back. She fell towards Spike, who raised his hands to catch her. She pulled herself back, only to be pressed forwards again, her movements as jerky as a marionette.
“Slayer? Buffy?” Spike grabbed her wrist to steady her, and Buffy felt another hand encircle her other wrist, guiding it around behind Spike and towards his…
“Hey!” She yelled, pulling both her wrists away. “Cut it out!”
Dawn was watching with wide eyes as Buffy seemingly wrenched herself this way and that, her hands hovering in provocative places all over Spike’s body.
As Spike’s face moved between expressions of shock, confusion and lust, and Buffy grew more and more thin-lipped, Dawn couldn’t help but giggle. She didn’t know what was going on, but it was funny.
“If you don’t stop jerking me around right now!” She let the threat hang in the air, not really knowing what she would do to Ned, but knowing that it would be painful.
“It’s not me!” Spike exclaimed, his voice oddly high-pitched.
She heaved a sigh of relief when she felt Ned’s hands drop her wrists, and glared when she heard his disembodied voice. “I bet someone would like you to be jerking something.”
“Argh!” She studiously avoided looking at Spike and grabbed Dawn’s arm. “We’re leaving.”
The crypt door slammed behind them with a resounding crash.
***
Buffy was bored. She’d gone to the Magic Box with the expectation of finding out about some new evil to fight, but Sunnydale had been oddly quiet of late – nothing but the annoyingly random occurrences that seemed to only happen around her.
Anya was prattling on about the Halloween sale the following day, saying the same things about profit margins and stock replenishment over and over and over again. Giles was busy working in his office, and Buffy thought that he had the right idea in staying out of the ex-demon’s way.
Willow and Tara looked just as fed up, but every so often they’d put their heads together to whisper and giggle. Xander looked like he was paying attention to his girlfriend, but his eyes were glazed over.
Buffy was just contemplating heading over to Spike’s crypt and consuming more of his alcohol, when there was a loud crack, and Ned appeared, perched on the counter behind Anya. He grinned at her, and she groaned, putting her head in her hands.
“Buffy?” Willow said, her voice taking on that permanently worried tone she’d been using around her since she’d come back.
“Yeah?” Buffy raised her head to look at her friends, studiously ignoring Ned who was making bunny ears behind Anya.
“Everything all right, Buff?” Xander asked, finally coming out of his stupor, looking glad that something had interrupted Anya’s monologue.
“I’m fine,” Buffy said, attempting a smile. “Really.”
“All right,” Xander looked dubious.
“So!” Buffy said, feigning cheerfulness, “There must be some evil thing out there that needs a good killing. So I’m going to go and do that.”
She stood up and started towards the training room, intent on finding weapons. She was glad to see that Ned didn’t follow, instead remaining seated on the counter. Unfortunately, he was writing in his stupid notebook.
A nice slim dagger and a trusty stake made their way into her pockets, and she pulled on her coat with an air of satisfaction. She may have lost most of her motivation for slaying since coming back from the dead, but anything was better than having to listen to Anya for the rest of the night.
“I’m going to patrol,” she announced, and received various nods of acknowledgement before the Scoobies went back to their own thing.
She frowned. Before… before she had died, her friends had often helped with patrol, and whilst they weren’t the most skilled fighters, it had been nice to have the company.
Nowadays, all she had was Spike, who admittedly was a bigger help, but hello? Annoying! Although she had to admit, he’d been a lot less aggravating lately, quieter and willing to listen to her talk, or just to sit with her in silence. And he was good to get drunk with, and boy wasn’t that sounding like a nice idea right about now?
“Seemed a little tense in there,” came a voice from behind her, and she jumped, cursing herself when she realised that it was only Ned. She hadn’t seen him follow her out the store, but then again with his fancy teleportation tricks, who knew if he even had?
“Mind your own business,” she answered finally.
“You are my business, darlin’,” he grinned. “So, we’re patrolling?”
“I am patrolling,” Buffy said, “you are following me around like an unwanted puppy. What were you writing in your notebook?”
If he was surprised at the swift change of topic, Ned said nothing and simply handed her the book. Buffy smiled inwardly. Only a day since she’d met him and he already knew not to mess with her.
5. Resentment towards friends for resurrection plot
6. Antipathy towards calling
She handed him back the book in silence, and carried on walking towards Restfield.
“What, no snarky comment?”
Buffy shrugged. “It’s true. I do resent them for bringing me back and I’m so not feeling connected to the Slayer side of me right now.”
“At last!” Ned shouted, and did a little jig on the spot. “She agrees with me!”
“I still think numbers two and four on your list are flawed,” she said.
“Yeah?” Ned smirked, “So why are we off to visit ol’ Spikey then?”
“We’re not, I’m patrolling!” Buffy protested, then looked around sheepishly. They were standing a few feet away from Spike’s crypt.
“What?” she said defiantly, as Ned shot her a knowing look. “This is a cemetery. Evil stuff happens here.”
“And your resident evil is on his way over,” Ned replied, melting back into the shadows.
“Huh? Isn’t that a video game?”
“Is what a video game, Slayer?” Spike’s deep voice intoned from behind her. She whirled around to see the bleached vampire leaning nonchalantly in front of a statue of an angel, the way he was standing making it look as though the wide stone wings were attached to his back. And wasn’t that ironic?
“Er… nothing.” Mentally, she cursed Ned. He was going to make her look as insane as Drusilla before very long.
“So, what’s up? We goin’ patrolling?” Spike pushed himself away from the statue and came to stand beside her. Buffy could clearly see Ned’s bright green and red plaid pants reflecting in the moonlight, but Spike didn’t notice him at all.
“I’m going patrolling. I guess you can tag along.” Buffy pulled her stake from her pocket and set off.
“Nice to be wanted,” Spike said, following behind her.
“Want? There’s no wanting. Nuh-uh.”
Spike eyed her dubiously, a smile in his voice. “Whatever you say, Slayer. Whatever you say.”
***
The following day was Halloween, and despite Ned’s encouragement, Buffy flat-out refused to wear a costume. She, along with all of the other Scoobies, had been pulled into helping out at the Magic Box, and Anya wanted them all there bright and early to help set up. Joy.
Ned was nowhere to be seen for the majority of the day, for which Buffy was thankful. Working retail on a major holiday was stressful enough, but having to put up with an annoying Imaginary Friend would put her stress levels through the roof.
Giles had her on bagging duty, and the work was monotonous and dull, but strangely soothing. The day passed in a blur of bright colours, candy and costumes and when Dawn flipped the ‘closed’ sign at the end of the day, it was with a strange sense of accomplishment that she sat down at the research table.
“Good day?” Ned had appeared from nowhere, and was sitting next to her.
Buffy spoke without thinking and nodded. “Not bad, but my feet are killing me.”
“What was that, Buffy?” Giles asked, looking up from the day’s receipts.
Buffy sighed. She had to stop answering Ned when other people were around. She glared at him, but he just rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out.
“I said, my feet are killing me. What say we head home and leave the clean-up til tomorrow?”
“But tomorrow’s the post-holiday clearance! And a messy store will not encourage customers to give me their money.”
“I could whip up a jaunty self-cleaning incantation,” Willow suggested eagerly, “it’ll be just like Fantasia.”
“Yes, and we know how splendidly that turned out for Mickey,” Giles said, the sarcasm heavy in his voice. “I agree with Buffy. I suggest we all head home and get a good night’s sleep, then return bright and early in the morning.”
They did a quick clean up of the worst of the mess, then left the store en masse, turning off in their different directions with shouted ‘good night’s’ and ‘see you tomorrow’s’.
“Can we go see Spike?” Dawn asked as they started walking home. “He hasn’t been by in a while. I miss him.”
“I don’t know, Dawnie…” Buffy frowned. She’d known on some level that Spike had helped take care of Dawn when she’d been gone, and that her little sister considered him somewhat of a friend, but she couldn’t really condone them hanging out together, could she?
“Aw, come on, it’s Halloween! The least we could do is go and say hi to a vampire on Halloween.”
“Vamps don’t celebrate Halloween,” Buffy said.
“Spike does,” Dawn pouted, “he told me that he was going to get pissed and watch scary movies. Although why he wants to get angry before watching them I have no clue.”
“Pissed is British for drunk, Dawnie.”
“And you know this how?” Dawn shot her a sly grin, “Been hanging out with Spike a lot?”
“What? No, of course not. I just watch a lot of er… that show. Eastenders.”
“You’ve never watched an episode of that in your life, Buffy.”
“Sure I did! That… one time…” She trailed off. Dawn was giggling. “Oh, shut up. Fine, we’ll go visit Spike.”
She put an arm around her sister’s shoulder and they set off towards the cemetery. Ned followed behind, a satisfied smile on his face.
***
She pushed open the door to Spike’s crypt slowly, more than aware that if she didn't have Dawn with her, she’d have slammed it open without a care.
“Spike? You in here?”
The TV was on, the black and white picture flickering in the gloom, and a couple of candles were lit, but there was no sign of the blond vampire.
“Is he here?” Dawn asked, peering into the darkness.
“Slayer? Niblet?” Spike’s head poked through the hole in the floor, followed by the rest of his body as he clambered out. “All right?”
“Dawn wanted to come by and say Happy Halloween,” Buffy rushed to explain, her cheeks colouring as Spike’s eyes widened. “So here we are. Er, Happy Halloween!”
Spike still looked shocked as he ushered them towards the couch, pressing cans of cold Coke into their hands. Buffy thought how weird it was that a vampire had better manners than some of the people she’d met in the past.
“So then Dean, you remember me telling you about Dean, right? So Dean tells Kirsty that he wouldn’t go out with her if she was the only girl in school, so then Amber gets all ‘oh, you can’t talk about my friend that way’. It was a whole big mess. But way cool to see Kirsty put down like that.”
“Yeah? Bit of a Queen Bee then is she, this Kirsty?”
“Yeah, total bee-yatch,” Dawn rolled her eyes. “Hey, did I tell you about…”
Buffy tuned Dawn out. Was this what it had been like over the summer when she’d been gone? Both Dawn and Spike seemed to have forgotten she was even there. She pouted.
A flash of red and green caught her eye and she turned to see Ned sitting cross-legged on the floor next to her. He waved cheerfully.
Buffy looked at her sister and Spike, they were still engrossed in their conversation, but Spike kept flicking sidelong glances towards her.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed at Ned, pitching her voice low. “No issues right now, so leave!”
Ned shook his head but didn’t say anything.
“Please? Can’t I have five minutes without you appearing over my shoulder?”
He just smiled.
“Buffy?” Dawn’s eyes were wide with worry. “Who were you talking to?”
“No one,” Buffy answered quickly, sending one last scowl at Ned.
“But you were,” Dawn said.
“No I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were!”
“No-”
“All right!” Spike yelled. “Sorry, Slayer, but the Bit’s right. You were talking to someone. Come to think of it, you were doing the same thing when I saw you a couple of days ago. Are you… is everything okay?”
Buffy took a deep breath, cursing Ned and inquisitive vampires.
“There’s nothing wrong. Everything’s fine. Dawnie, I think we should go home.”
Dawn pouted. “But I’m having fun. Spike said that Beetlejuice is on soon… come on, you know you love that movie.”
Buffy sighed. “Fine, we’ll stay.” She sat back on the couch, trying not to notice how little space there was between her leg and Spike’s. When she was sure that Spike and Dawn were immersed in the television, she turned slightly towards Ned, and mouthed, “Not. Another. Word.”
He made a lip-zipping motion and directed his attention towards the television.
***
Buffy yawned and stretched, feeling the muscles in her back pop. She felt comfortable and strangely warm for being in a crypt. She stretched again, arching her neck and wiggling her fingers.
She froze. Wait a minute… She sat up abruptly and blushed as she realised just where her hand had been resting. She slid down the couch a little, remaining silent and kept her eyes away from Spike. She just knew he was smirking.
“Nice nap, Slayer?”
Buffy stood up, brushing imaginary lint from her shirt. “I think it’s time Dawn and I went home.”
Spike shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He leaned over to wake Dawn, who mumbled in her sleep before reluctantly awakening.
“Dawn, we’re leaving.”
Dawn nodded, too tired to make any objections. Buffy quickly looked around for Ned, but could see him nowhere, and so she guessed he’d teleported himself somewhere. Good.
“Bye, Spike,” Dawn said, giving him a little wave.
Spike nodded and smiled. “Night, Niblet, Slayer.”
Buffy was about to turn and leave when all of a sudden she was propelled forwards by a surprisingly strong push to her back. She fell towards Spike, who raised his hands to catch her. She pulled herself back, only to be pressed forwards again, her movements as jerky as a marionette.
“Slayer? Buffy?” Spike grabbed her wrist to steady her, and Buffy felt another hand encircle her other wrist, guiding it around behind Spike and towards his…
“Hey!” She yelled, pulling both her wrists away. “Cut it out!”
Dawn was watching with wide eyes as Buffy seemingly wrenched herself this way and that, her hands hovering in provocative places all over Spike’s body.
As Spike’s face moved between expressions of shock, confusion and lust, and Buffy grew more and more thin-lipped, Dawn couldn’t help but giggle. She didn’t know what was going on, but it was funny.
“If you don’t stop jerking me around right now!” She let the threat hang in the air, not really knowing what she would do to Ned, but knowing that it would be painful.
“It’s not me!” Spike exclaimed, his voice oddly high-pitched.
She heaved a sigh of relief when she felt Ned’s hands drop her wrists, and glared when she heard his disembodied voice. “I bet someone would like you to be jerking something.”
“Argh!” She studiously avoided looking at Spike and grabbed Dawn’s arm. “We’re leaving.”
The crypt door slammed behind them with a resounding crash.
***
Chapter Four
A/N: Thank you for the great reviews! Once again, thanks to PaganBaby for beta reading.
Chapter Four
After the debacle with the inappropriately placed hands, Ned disappeared. She didn’t know whether he was giving her some space to cool down, or if he’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble and had moved on to a new assignment, but weirdly, she was missing him.
It wasn’t that she liked the guy, but he was someone to talk to about the hellish state of her life. She couldn’t talk to her friends because they were the ones who had pulled her from heaven, and she’d thought she was able to confide in Spike, but after the hands incident, she didn’t know if she could face him any time soon. Chances were, he’d make a lewd comment and she’d get pissed at him and then she wouldn’t even be able to talk to him anyway.
Things were better with Dawn, however, and she knew that if Ned did show up again, she’d get him to cross the ‘sister issues’ off the list.
After leaving Spike’s crypt on Halloween, Buffy had suffered endless questions from Dawn about her behaviour, none of which she answered with the truth. Dawn would think she was nuts if she told her she had an Imaginary Friend, so she remained tight-lipped and red-faced.
Somehow, however, they’d ended up laughing hysterically about it over a pint of Phish Food when they got home, and as a result the sister’s relationship was better than ever.
The same couldn’t be said for her relationships with her friends. Willow and Tara had gone to the Bronze after leaving the Magic Box on Halloween, and had had a huge fight about something or other, resulting in Tara moving out of the house the following day. Willow was surly and unresponsive, and not good company in the slightest.
Xander and Anya seemed happy enough, continuing to plan their engagement with an impromptu party the next day. It was perhaps not the best timing considering the state of Willow and Tara’s relationship, but Buffy congratulated them with hugs and smiles, all the while trying not to be jealous of their seemingly normal and settled lives.
And to top it all off, Giles had told them that he had plans to return to England – for good. He didn’t plan to leave for a few weeks, wanting to make sure that all his affairs were in order first, but the fact remained that he was going, and nothing was going to make him change his mind.
Buffy kind of hated him a little bit.
So now it was Monday afternoon, and she’d spent the day wandering around the empty house, trying to find something constructive to do, and failing. Dawn had school and Willow was at the university and what she wouldn’t do for some company right about now.
As if he’d read her mind, she was startled from a staring competition with the wall by the sound of the front door slamming open to reveal Spike, steaming blanket in hand, gazing at her triumphantly.
“Seriously, Spike, you need to stop going out in the sunshine,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the slight charred smell that accompanied the vampire into the house. “One of these days you’ll accidentally dust yourself.”
“That’d be a bad thing?” Spike asked, settling himself down into the armchair across from the couch.
“Well… yeah,” Buffy frowned. “Wouldn’t it?”
“You tell me, Slayer,” he replied, eyebrow raised in an expression she wished she didn’t find sexy.
She groaned. “Let’s not start this again.”
Spike shrugged and silence fell.
“So,” he said, a few minutes later, “haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Everything all right?”
“Fine,” she said, “except that Willow and Tara broke up and Giles is moving back to Britain. But hey, Dawnie doesn’t hate me anymore, so that’s a bonus.”
“Shame about the lovebirds,” Spike said, sounding genuinely remorseful, “and I know you’ll miss your Watcher, pet. Bleedin’ idiot, he is, for leaving now when you need him the most.”
“Don’t I know it,” Buffy replied, “but I can’t think of anything to say that will make him change his mind. I’ve already exhausted the whole ‘But England will make you bland and boring’ argument.”
“England’s not bland and boring,” Spike said, sounding disgruntled. “But even if it was, not like you’d notice much of a change in the old man, eh?”
“You’re mean, Spike.”
He looked kind of pleased.
“That wasn’t a compliment, you know.”
Spike shrugged, and then sat forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, as though he was going to speak but didn’t know what to say.
“How are you really, pet?” he said, voice pitched low and soothing. “You were acting kind of… strangely the other night.”
Buffy felt her eyes fill at his kind tone, wondering what it was about this vampire – this man – that caused her to let all her emotional defences drop. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, brushing away the barely fallen tears.
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” she said.
“Try me.”
“No, really. You’d think I was crazy, or insane or something.”
“Well, I already think that, so it’s not like much would change,” Spike smirked.
Buffy shot him a withering glance. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you won’t believe me.”
“Wanna bet?”
“No chance in hell,” Buffy replied, “I’ve seen you the way you gamble.”
“Suit yourself. And stop trying to change the subject. Something weird’s going on, a Hellmouth kind of weird, so spill.”
“I have an Imaginary Friend,” Buffy said, and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the ridicule.
“Oh,” Spike replied, his voice betraying neither surprise nor confusion. “Is that all?”
Buffy opened her eyes in shock and stared at him. “What do you mean, is that all? I just told you I have an Imaginary Friend and you’re not finding that weird?”
“’Course not,” Spike said, “everyone in the demon world knows about Imaginary Friends. Actually, it makes a lot sense if one of them has appeared to you right about now. So, who’d you get? Knew a few of them, back in the day.” His eyes widened in sudden realisation. “So that’s what was going on the other day? With the hands and you talking to yourself?”
“Yeah,” Buffy said, blushing again, then she punched Spike lightly in the arm. “I can’t believe you! There I was, going crazy because I’ve got this weird little man following me around wanting to talk about my ‘issues’, half thinking I was going insane or hallucinating, and you knew about Imaginary Friend’s all along? Jeez!”
“Well it’s not like I knew he was there, did I?” Spike said, “I just thought you were losin’ it, stress and all that rot.”
“Yeah well, the stress was me having my own personal shrink stalking my every move.” She folded her arms and laid her head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. “His name’s Ned McNabb, and despite the fact that one or two of the things he thinks are just insanely wrong, he’s actually helped a bit.”
“Yeah? Not met a McNabb. Knew a McAllister back in the fifties, hated the bastard. Then there was Anders, he was a good bloke.” He eyed her worriedly. “This one treating you all right?”
Buffy snorted. “If by ‘all right’ you mean, ‘is he making me put my hands all over you?’ then, yeah, you could say that.”
“Well that was all right by me, pet,” Spike leered, tongue behind his teeth.
“Shut up,” she said, then sighed. “I guess, apart from the hands thing, he’s been fine. Helped me talk through a few things, gave me some Tinny sleeping thing to help me get through the nights.”
“Good,” Spike nodded. “Look, you all right with him hanging around you, really? Cos if you wanted, I’d find some way of getting rid of him for you. Look up Anders, perhaps, or force your McNabb to show himself, yeah?”
“No,” Buffy said slowly, thinking about it for a moment. Then, more definitely, “No. I think he is helping me, for all he’s an annoying so-and-so. Besides, he hasn’t been around for a couple of days, not since…”
Spike raised his eyebrow.
“Well anyway,” she hurried on. “If he does come back, I think I want him to stick around. Might be able to help me some more. But it was sweet of you to offer, Spike.”
“I’m not sweet!” he replied, looking positively horrified by the thought.
Buffy just smiled.
“Right, then,” Spike said, a few moments later as he peered out the window. “Better be off, Niblet’ll be home soon and you’ll want to spend some time with her.”
“It’s still daytime,” Buffy said, “and I know Dawn will want to see you. Um, why don’t you stay for dinner?”
“What?”
“Er, dinner. You. With the staying.”
“Oh. All right then.” And he smiled, a look of surprised happiness on his face.
***
Chapter Four
After the debacle with the inappropriately placed hands, Ned disappeared. She didn’t know whether he was giving her some space to cool down, or if he’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble and had moved on to a new assignment, but weirdly, she was missing him.
It wasn’t that she liked the guy, but he was someone to talk to about the hellish state of her life. She couldn’t talk to her friends because they were the ones who had pulled her from heaven, and she’d thought she was able to confide in Spike, but after the hands incident, she didn’t know if she could face him any time soon. Chances were, he’d make a lewd comment and she’d get pissed at him and then she wouldn’t even be able to talk to him anyway.
Things were better with Dawn, however, and she knew that if Ned did show up again, she’d get him to cross the ‘sister issues’ off the list.
After leaving Spike’s crypt on Halloween, Buffy had suffered endless questions from Dawn about her behaviour, none of which she answered with the truth. Dawn would think she was nuts if she told her she had an Imaginary Friend, so she remained tight-lipped and red-faced.
Somehow, however, they’d ended up laughing hysterically about it over a pint of Phish Food when they got home, and as a result the sister’s relationship was better than ever.
The same couldn’t be said for her relationships with her friends. Willow and Tara had gone to the Bronze after leaving the Magic Box on Halloween, and had had a huge fight about something or other, resulting in Tara moving out of the house the following day. Willow was surly and unresponsive, and not good company in the slightest.
Xander and Anya seemed happy enough, continuing to plan their engagement with an impromptu party the next day. It was perhaps not the best timing considering the state of Willow and Tara’s relationship, but Buffy congratulated them with hugs and smiles, all the while trying not to be jealous of their seemingly normal and settled lives.
And to top it all off, Giles had told them that he had plans to return to England – for good. He didn’t plan to leave for a few weeks, wanting to make sure that all his affairs were in order first, but the fact remained that he was going, and nothing was going to make him change his mind.
Buffy kind of hated him a little bit.
So now it was Monday afternoon, and she’d spent the day wandering around the empty house, trying to find something constructive to do, and failing. Dawn had school and Willow was at the university and what she wouldn’t do for some company right about now.
As if he’d read her mind, she was startled from a staring competition with the wall by the sound of the front door slamming open to reveal Spike, steaming blanket in hand, gazing at her triumphantly.
“Seriously, Spike, you need to stop going out in the sunshine,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the slight charred smell that accompanied the vampire into the house. “One of these days you’ll accidentally dust yourself.”
“That’d be a bad thing?” Spike asked, settling himself down into the armchair across from the couch.
“Well… yeah,” Buffy frowned. “Wouldn’t it?”
“You tell me, Slayer,” he replied, eyebrow raised in an expression she wished she didn’t find sexy.
She groaned. “Let’s not start this again.”
Spike shrugged and silence fell.
“So,” he said, a few minutes later, “haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Everything all right?”
“Fine,” she said, “except that Willow and Tara broke up and Giles is moving back to Britain. But hey, Dawnie doesn’t hate me anymore, so that’s a bonus.”
“Shame about the lovebirds,” Spike said, sounding genuinely remorseful, “and I know you’ll miss your Watcher, pet. Bleedin’ idiot, he is, for leaving now when you need him the most.”
“Don’t I know it,” Buffy replied, “but I can’t think of anything to say that will make him change his mind. I’ve already exhausted the whole ‘But England will make you bland and boring’ argument.”
“England’s not bland and boring,” Spike said, sounding disgruntled. “But even if it was, not like you’d notice much of a change in the old man, eh?”
“You’re mean, Spike.”
He looked kind of pleased.
“That wasn’t a compliment, you know.”
Spike shrugged, and then sat forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, as though he was going to speak but didn’t know what to say.
“How are you really, pet?” he said, voice pitched low and soothing. “You were acting kind of… strangely the other night.”
Buffy felt her eyes fill at his kind tone, wondering what it was about this vampire – this man – that caused her to let all her emotional defences drop. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, brushing away the barely fallen tears.
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” she said.
“Try me.”
“No, really. You’d think I was crazy, or insane or something.”
“Well, I already think that, so it’s not like much would change,” Spike smirked.
Buffy shot him a withering glance. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you won’t believe me.”
“Wanna bet?”
“No chance in hell,” Buffy replied, “I’ve seen you the way you gamble.”
“Suit yourself. And stop trying to change the subject. Something weird’s going on, a Hellmouth kind of weird, so spill.”
“I have an Imaginary Friend,” Buffy said, and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the ridicule.
“Oh,” Spike replied, his voice betraying neither surprise nor confusion. “Is that all?”
Buffy opened her eyes in shock and stared at him. “What do you mean, is that all? I just told you I have an Imaginary Friend and you’re not finding that weird?”
“’Course not,” Spike said, “everyone in the demon world knows about Imaginary Friends. Actually, it makes a lot sense if one of them has appeared to you right about now. So, who’d you get? Knew a few of them, back in the day.” His eyes widened in sudden realisation. “So that’s what was going on the other day? With the hands and you talking to yourself?”
“Yeah,” Buffy said, blushing again, then she punched Spike lightly in the arm. “I can’t believe you! There I was, going crazy because I’ve got this weird little man following me around wanting to talk about my ‘issues’, half thinking I was going insane or hallucinating, and you knew about Imaginary Friend’s all along? Jeez!”
“Well it’s not like I knew he was there, did I?” Spike said, “I just thought you were losin’ it, stress and all that rot.”
“Yeah well, the stress was me having my own personal shrink stalking my every move.” She folded her arms and laid her head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. “His name’s Ned McNabb, and despite the fact that one or two of the things he thinks are just insanely wrong, he’s actually helped a bit.”
“Yeah? Not met a McNabb. Knew a McAllister back in the fifties, hated the bastard. Then there was Anders, he was a good bloke.” He eyed her worriedly. “This one treating you all right?”
Buffy snorted. “If by ‘all right’ you mean, ‘is he making me put my hands all over you?’ then, yeah, you could say that.”
“Well that was all right by me, pet,” Spike leered, tongue behind his teeth.
“Shut up,” she said, then sighed. “I guess, apart from the hands thing, he’s been fine. Helped me talk through a few things, gave me some Tinny sleeping thing to help me get through the nights.”
“Good,” Spike nodded. “Look, you all right with him hanging around you, really? Cos if you wanted, I’d find some way of getting rid of him for you. Look up Anders, perhaps, or force your McNabb to show himself, yeah?”
“No,” Buffy said slowly, thinking about it for a moment. Then, more definitely, “No. I think he is helping me, for all he’s an annoying so-and-so. Besides, he hasn’t been around for a couple of days, not since…”
Spike raised his eyebrow.
“Well anyway,” she hurried on. “If he does come back, I think I want him to stick around. Might be able to help me some more. But it was sweet of you to offer, Spike.”
“I’m not sweet!” he replied, looking positively horrified by the thought.
Buffy just smiled.
“Right, then,” Spike said, a few moments later as he peered out the window. “Better be off, Niblet’ll be home soon and you’ll want to spend some time with her.”
“It’s still daytime,” Buffy said, “and I know Dawn will want to see you. Um, why don’t you stay for dinner?”
“What?”
“Er, dinner. You. With the staying.”
“Oh. All right then.” And he smiled, a look of surprised happiness on his face.
***
Chapter Five
Chapter Five
“Buffy! Mrs. Kroeger will be here soon and the kitchen’s a mess!”
Buffy grimaced. She had completely forgotten about the Social Services visit until she’d been looking for a pen in the desk drawer and found the notification letter. Now, she and Dawn were racing around the house trying to make everything presentable for the visit, knowing that if it didn’t go well there was a very good chance Dawn would be taken away.
“You get started on cleaning that, I’ll push the vacuum around the living room,” she called back, but the doorbell rang before she could make it to the closet. “I’ll get it!”
She swung open the door, expecting to see the Social Worker standing on the doorstep, but it was someone else entirely. It was Ned.
“What the hell are you doing?” Buffy hissed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. She’d definitely heard the doorbell ring, and so Dawn would have heard it too.
“I’m your Social Worker for today,” Ned grinned, holding out an identification card.
“What?” Buffy frowned, and only then did she take in his appearance. Gone were the brightly coloured plaid pants and orange-shirt combo, replaced with a slightly more conservative suit in a dull grey. He wore a tartan fedora on his head, presumably to cover up the little blue horns that sat atop his forehead.
“I swung by the offices downtown,” Ned explained, eyes bright with mirth. “Used some… influence to convince them that I was the one they wanted to take this case. Thought it would kill two birds with one stone – keep you off their radar and I’d get to talk to your little sister, see how things are going between you two.”
“Things are going great,” Buffy said, feeling as though she should be angry with the little man but knowing that if the meeting had gone ahead with Mrs. Kroeger, it would likely have been a disaster. “Fine, come in. But you upset Dawn in any way…”
“Hey,” Ned held his hands up, “I’m here to help.”
Buffy opened the door and ushered him in, wondering how Dawn would react to her new Social Worker, Mr. McNabb.
***
“And everything’s going all right at school?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Dawn answered, “my grades got kind of low for a while, but they’re picking up.”
Ned nodded, noting something down on his clipboard. “Good. Now, how often do you and your sister go to the movies?”
“What?” Dawn frowned, “Erm, we haven’t gone in a while…”
“Well, that won’t do!” Ned exclaimed, looking over to Buffy. “You need to take her to the movies more often. And buy her lots and lots of ice cream and popcorn.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow, but nodded and sat back in her chair, arms folded. She bit her lip to keep from giggling, Dawn looked utterly perplexed.
Ned asked Dawn a few more questions about having friends round for sleepovers, days out at the beach and whether Buffy let her watch the latest episodes of American Idol.
Dawn, despite her confusion, answered all the questions politely, and Ned scribbled notes down. Whether he was actually writing anything on the paper remained to be seen.
He soon stood up and announced that everything seemed fine, and that the department would not need to visit for at least another six months. Buffy showed him to the door, knowing that as soon as she went upstairs he’d be waiting for her, undoubtedly perched on top of her dressing table.
“Well, that was weird,” Dawn said, once Ned had left. “I don’t understand why all he asked me about was movies and TV and ice cream. Are you sure he was from the Social Services?”
“Yep, he showed me an ID card,” Buffy nodded. “I’m just glad the interview is over and he thinks we’re doing okay.”
Dawn put her arm around Buffy and leaned her head on her shoulder. “I’m glad we’re doing okay, too.”
***
Sure enough, when Buffy went back up to her room a little while later, Ned was there waiting for her. Not sitting on her dresser as she’d thought he might be, but lounged on her bed, ankles crossed and arms folded beneath his head.
“So, how’d I do?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Buffy sat on the end of the bed, pushing Ned’s legs to one side. “I think you confused Dawn with your weird questions. And hey, what was with you telling her that I should take her out more often? Cos, not so much money to spare right now.”
“You need to spend more time with her,” Ned shrugged, then sat up and pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, which he handed to her. “And besides, I think I’ve got your money problem solved.”
“Huh?”
“Take a look,” he said, nodding towards the paper. “Got you an interview lined up for tomorrow.”
Buffy looked at the sheet, and read it through quickly. It was a typed-up job description, advertising an assistant position at the local gym.
“It’s not the most glamorous of jobs,” Ned was quick to add, “but look, you get free membership to the gym and the possibility to take training courses to become an instructor in the future.”
Buffy was surprised, she’d never have considered this kind of job. To be honest, she’d thought that she’d end up working at the Doublemeat Palace if the money situation didn’t turn itself around soon.
“How did you get me an interview?” she asked, “It’s not like my resume is anything to shout about.”
“Pulled a few strings,” Ned replied.
“Oh, like you did with the Social Services? Thanks for that, by the way. I’ve met Mrs. Kroeger a couple of times before, and she’s a real demon. And not of the nice, slay-friendly kind.”
“It’s my job, darlin’,” Ned smiled, then took out his notebook. “So, can I cross number two – ‘sister issues’ off my list?”
“Yup, all is good there. And if I get this job, you can cross number whatever off your list, ‘cos I know you wrote money issues on there somewhere.”
Ned drew two lines across the page of his notebook, then held it out for her to see. Sure enough, near the bottom of the list, was:
7. Has barely enough money to sustain herself and family
“Hey, I didn’t say cross it out right now, I haven’t got the job yet, remember?”
“You’ll get it,” Ned said confidently.
“Oh?” Buffy raised an eyebrow, “You going to pull me some more strings?”
“Nope, I just have faith in you. You’ll get the job.”
“Oh,” she frowned, not feeling the self-confidence in herself that Ned obviously saw. “If you say so.”
“I say so, and I’m always right.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
***
As it turned out, Ned was right about the job, and Buffy walked out of the Sunnydale Gym and Health Club as a newly hired member of the staff.
She half-expected Ned to pop out of a bush somewhere and say ‘I told you so’, but he was nowhere to be seen as she made her way home, a smile on her face and a lightness in her step that hadn’t been there since she was brought back.
She thought about turning in the opposite direction and heading towards the Magic Box, one or more of her friends would likely be there and she could share the good news. But then she realised that the one person she really wanted to tell was Spike and oh my god how weird was that?
Buffy turned and headed towards Restfield.
It was the middle of the day but Spike was weird for a vampire, so she figured that he might be awake, and if he wasn’t, well, she’d just wake him up. Throw a candle or something.
What she hadn’t bargained on was that he would be asleep in a bed. A big, comfy looking four-poster bed. Naked.
She stared. She hadn’t realised he was hiding that body under all the leather. Broad shoulders that tapered down to a slim waist, a flat stomach with lickable abs and… damn, the sheet that lay low on his waist stopped her from further perusal.
She shook her head and tried to remember why she was here, ‘cos she was pretty sure that her purpose in visiting Spike hadn’t been to sit and ogle his naked body. But that sure seemed like a good idea right now…
No. She was here to tell Spike about her new job, and that was what she was going to do, damn it!
She approached the bed cautiously, wondering whether it would be better to wake him up slowly or quickly. If she shocked him into waking up perhaps he’d jump out of bed in surprise and she’d get to see the full monty…
She settled for reaching over and hesitantly tapping him on the shoulder, which moved to patting a little bit harder, then full-on shoving when he refused to wake.
“Spike! Damn it, wake up!”
He sighed and mumbled something in his sleep, rolling over away from her and giving her a very nice view of his strongly muscled back.
This is getting ridiculous. She picked up one of the heavy white candles from his bedside table and was just getting ready to chuck it at him, when he rolled over onto his back and stretched his arms out over his head, back arching and muscles rippling.
Buffy dropped the candle.
Spike’s head snapped to the side and he narrowed his eyes, frowning slightly as if trying to work out why she was there, but then the confusion slid from his face and was replaced with a knowing smirk.
“Like what you see, Slayer?” He settled back on his pillows, making no effort to cover up nor to retrieve the sheet which was sliding lower and lower down on his hips.
“I… er… shut up.”
“Eloquent,” Spike grinned. “So, what brings you by?”
“Clothes!” Buffy blurted, then inwardly cringed. “I mean, clothes. You should get some. And wear them.”
Spike said nothing, but continued to smile at her. He slid across the bed and started to stand up.
“No! I’ll er… be upstairs.” She hurried to the ladder and climbed out into the upper level of the crypt, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Stupid naked Spike and his hotness.
A few moments later, a fully-clothed Spike appeared in the crypt. He sauntered over to the fridge and took out a bag of blood, neatly ripping into it with a pointed fang and consuming it all in a matter of minutes.
Buffy watched, slightly repulsed but at the same time kind of fascinated. It didn’t repulse her as much as she thought it would.
When he had finished, he came and sat next to her on the couch, looking at her expectantly.
“Well?”
“Oh!” Buffy smiled, remembering the reason she’d come by in the first place. “I got a job!”
“You did?” Spike smiled, his eyes lighting with happiness, “Good on you, Slayer. What’s the job, then?”
“Nothing glamorous,” Buffy said, smiling ruefully. “It’s just an assistant job at the gym, but the manager said that I have good potential and if I take some courses, I could work towards becoming a personal trainer, or an instructor. But hey, a job’s a job.”
“That’s bloody brilliant, Slayer, really. I’m happy for you.” He made a movement as though to hug her, but stopped suddenly and ran his fingers through his hair instead. He glanced at her quickly, blue eyes reflecting that he really was happy for her and wasn’t just saying it, but just as quickly looked away.
Buffy smiled to herself and took pity on him, reaching out and taking one of his hands in hers. She squeezed gently, and looked into his eyes.
“Thank you.”
***
“Buffy! Mrs. Kroeger will be here soon and the kitchen’s a mess!”
Buffy grimaced. She had completely forgotten about the Social Services visit until she’d been looking for a pen in the desk drawer and found the notification letter. Now, she and Dawn were racing around the house trying to make everything presentable for the visit, knowing that if it didn’t go well there was a very good chance Dawn would be taken away.
“You get started on cleaning that, I’ll push the vacuum around the living room,” she called back, but the doorbell rang before she could make it to the closet. “I’ll get it!”
She swung open the door, expecting to see the Social Worker standing on the doorstep, but it was someone else entirely. It was Ned.
“What the hell are you doing?” Buffy hissed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. She’d definitely heard the doorbell ring, and so Dawn would have heard it too.
“I’m your Social Worker for today,” Ned grinned, holding out an identification card.
“What?” Buffy frowned, and only then did she take in his appearance. Gone were the brightly coloured plaid pants and orange-shirt combo, replaced with a slightly more conservative suit in a dull grey. He wore a tartan fedora on his head, presumably to cover up the little blue horns that sat atop his forehead.
“I swung by the offices downtown,” Ned explained, eyes bright with mirth. “Used some… influence to convince them that I was the one they wanted to take this case. Thought it would kill two birds with one stone – keep you off their radar and I’d get to talk to your little sister, see how things are going between you two.”
“Things are going great,” Buffy said, feeling as though she should be angry with the little man but knowing that if the meeting had gone ahead with Mrs. Kroeger, it would likely have been a disaster. “Fine, come in. But you upset Dawn in any way…”
“Hey,” Ned held his hands up, “I’m here to help.”
Buffy opened the door and ushered him in, wondering how Dawn would react to her new Social Worker, Mr. McNabb.
***
“And everything’s going all right at school?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Dawn answered, “my grades got kind of low for a while, but they’re picking up.”
Ned nodded, noting something down on his clipboard. “Good. Now, how often do you and your sister go to the movies?”
“What?” Dawn frowned, “Erm, we haven’t gone in a while…”
“Well, that won’t do!” Ned exclaimed, looking over to Buffy. “You need to take her to the movies more often. And buy her lots and lots of ice cream and popcorn.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow, but nodded and sat back in her chair, arms folded. She bit her lip to keep from giggling, Dawn looked utterly perplexed.
Ned asked Dawn a few more questions about having friends round for sleepovers, days out at the beach and whether Buffy let her watch the latest episodes of American Idol.
Dawn, despite her confusion, answered all the questions politely, and Ned scribbled notes down. Whether he was actually writing anything on the paper remained to be seen.
He soon stood up and announced that everything seemed fine, and that the department would not need to visit for at least another six months. Buffy showed him to the door, knowing that as soon as she went upstairs he’d be waiting for her, undoubtedly perched on top of her dressing table.
“Well, that was weird,” Dawn said, once Ned had left. “I don’t understand why all he asked me about was movies and TV and ice cream. Are you sure he was from the Social Services?”
“Yep, he showed me an ID card,” Buffy nodded. “I’m just glad the interview is over and he thinks we’re doing okay.”
Dawn put her arm around Buffy and leaned her head on her shoulder. “I’m glad we’re doing okay, too.”
***
Sure enough, when Buffy went back up to her room a little while later, Ned was there waiting for her. Not sitting on her dresser as she’d thought he might be, but lounged on her bed, ankles crossed and arms folded beneath his head.
“So, how’d I do?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Buffy sat on the end of the bed, pushing Ned’s legs to one side. “I think you confused Dawn with your weird questions. And hey, what was with you telling her that I should take her out more often? Cos, not so much money to spare right now.”
“You need to spend more time with her,” Ned shrugged, then sat up and pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, which he handed to her. “And besides, I think I’ve got your money problem solved.”
“Huh?”
“Take a look,” he said, nodding towards the paper. “Got you an interview lined up for tomorrow.”
Buffy looked at the sheet, and read it through quickly. It was a typed-up job description, advertising an assistant position at the local gym.
“It’s not the most glamorous of jobs,” Ned was quick to add, “but look, you get free membership to the gym and the possibility to take training courses to become an instructor in the future.”
Buffy was surprised, she’d never have considered this kind of job. To be honest, she’d thought that she’d end up working at the Doublemeat Palace if the money situation didn’t turn itself around soon.
“How did you get me an interview?” she asked, “It’s not like my resume is anything to shout about.”
“Pulled a few strings,” Ned replied.
“Oh, like you did with the Social Services? Thanks for that, by the way. I’ve met Mrs. Kroeger a couple of times before, and she’s a real demon. And not of the nice, slay-friendly kind.”
“It’s my job, darlin’,” Ned smiled, then took out his notebook. “So, can I cross number two – ‘sister issues’ off my list?”
“Yup, all is good there. And if I get this job, you can cross number whatever off your list, ‘cos I know you wrote money issues on there somewhere.”
Ned drew two lines across the page of his notebook, then held it out for her to see. Sure enough, near the bottom of the list, was:
7. Has barely enough money to sustain herself and family
“Hey, I didn’t say cross it out right now, I haven’t got the job yet, remember?”
“You’ll get it,” Ned said confidently.
“Oh?” Buffy raised an eyebrow, “You going to pull me some more strings?”
“Nope, I just have faith in you. You’ll get the job.”
“Oh,” she frowned, not feeling the self-confidence in herself that Ned obviously saw. “If you say so.”
“I say so, and I’m always right.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
***
As it turned out, Ned was right about the job, and Buffy walked out of the Sunnydale Gym and Health Club as a newly hired member of the staff.
She half-expected Ned to pop out of a bush somewhere and say ‘I told you so’, but he was nowhere to be seen as she made her way home, a smile on her face and a lightness in her step that hadn’t been there since she was brought back.
She thought about turning in the opposite direction and heading towards the Magic Box, one or more of her friends would likely be there and she could share the good news. But then she realised that the one person she really wanted to tell was Spike and oh my god how weird was that?
Buffy turned and headed towards Restfield.
It was the middle of the day but Spike was weird for a vampire, so she figured that he might be awake, and if he wasn’t, well, she’d just wake him up. Throw a candle or something.
What she hadn’t bargained on was that he would be asleep in a bed. A big, comfy looking four-poster bed. Naked.
She stared. She hadn’t realised he was hiding that body under all the leather. Broad shoulders that tapered down to a slim waist, a flat stomach with lickable abs and… damn, the sheet that lay low on his waist stopped her from further perusal.
She shook her head and tried to remember why she was here, ‘cos she was pretty sure that her purpose in visiting Spike hadn’t been to sit and ogle his naked body. But that sure seemed like a good idea right now…
No. She was here to tell Spike about her new job, and that was what she was going to do, damn it!
She approached the bed cautiously, wondering whether it would be better to wake him up slowly or quickly. If she shocked him into waking up perhaps he’d jump out of bed in surprise and she’d get to see the full monty…
She settled for reaching over and hesitantly tapping him on the shoulder, which moved to patting a little bit harder, then full-on shoving when he refused to wake.
“Spike! Damn it, wake up!”
He sighed and mumbled something in his sleep, rolling over away from her and giving her a very nice view of his strongly muscled back.
This is getting ridiculous. She picked up one of the heavy white candles from his bedside table and was just getting ready to chuck it at him, when he rolled over onto his back and stretched his arms out over his head, back arching and muscles rippling.
Buffy dropped the candle.
Spike’s head snapped to the side and he narrowed his eyes, frowning slightly as if trying to work out why she was there, but then the confusion slid from his face and was replaced with a knowing smirk.
“Like what you see, Slayer?” He settled back on his pillows, making no effort to cover up nor to retrieve the sheet which was sliding lower and lower down on his hips.
“I… er… shut up.”
“Eloquent,” Spike grinned. “So, what brings you by?”
“Clothes!” Buffy blurted, then inwardly cringed. “I mean, clothes. You should get some. And wear them.”
Spike said nothing, but continued to smile at her. He slid across the bed and started to stand up.
“No! I’ll er… be upstairs.” She hurried to the ladder and climbed out into the upper level of the crypt, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Stupid naked Spike and his hotness.
A few moments later, a fully-clothed Spike appeared in the crypt. He sauntered over to the fridge and took out a bag of blood, neatly ripping into it with a pointed fang and consuming it all in a matter of minutes.
Buffy watched, slightly repulsed but at the same time kind of fascinated. It didn’t repulse her as much as she thought it would.
When he had finished, he came and sat next to her on the couch, looking at her expectantly.
“Well?”
“Oh!” Buffy smiled, remembering the reason she’d come by in the first place. “I got a job!”
“You did?” Spike smiled, his eyes lighting with happiness, “Good on you, Slayer. What’s the job, then?”
“Nothing glamorous,” Buffy said, smiling ruefully. “It’s just an assistant job at the gym, but the manager said that I have good potential and if I take some courses, I could work towards becoming a personal trainer, or an instructor. But hey, a job’s a job.”
“That’s bloody brilliant, Slayer, really. I’m happy for you.” He made a movement as though to hug her, but stopped suddenly and ran his fingers through his hair instead. He glanced at her quickly, blue eyes reflecting that he really was happy for her and wasn’t just saying it, but just as quickly looked away.
Buffy smiled to herself and took pity on him, reaching out and taking one of his hands in hers. She squeezed gently, and looked into his eyes.
“Thank you.”
***
Chapter Six
A/N: Thanks again for the lovely reviews!
Chapter Six
“Buffy? Have you seen my summoning crystals?”
“The hills are alive, with the sound of music! With songs they have sung for a thousand years!”
“What, Will?” Buffy asked, trying to ignore Ned’s impersonation of Julie Andrews as he pranced about the living room.
“My summoning crystals. Have you seen them? I could have sworn I left them in the basket on my dresser…”
“Sorry,” Buffy said. “I haven’t seen them. Maybe Tara used them for something?” The witches had started to patch things up, with tentative steps being made towards reconciliation.
“Maybe…” Willow looked doubtful, her teeth worrying her upper lip and her forehead scrunched in confusion. “She usually puts things back after using them, though.”
“The hills fill my heart, with the sound of music! My heart wants to sing every song it hears!”
Buffy rolled her eyes and wished she had some earplugs on hand. Her Imaginary Friend could not carry a tune.
“Shoot,” Willow put the phone back in the cradle. “She’s not answering her cell. This sucks, I really need to use them.”
“Anything I can help you with?” Buffy set her magazine down on the coffee table. Between Ned’s singing and Willow’s chatter, there was no way she could concentrate on the love lives of celebrities.
“I lost my earrings,” Willow said, coming to sit next to Buffy on the couch. “You know, the ones Tara gave me for our anniversary? I wore them to the movies the other day, and I’m pretty sure I put them back in my jewellery box.”
“So wait,” Buffy frowned. “You lost your earrings, so you want to do a spell to find them, but you’ve lost the crystals you need for the spell? Getting a little careless there, arent’cha?”
Willow shot Buffy a hurt look. “It’s not like I lost them on purpose. I know I put both the earrings and the crystals back in their proper places… someone must have taken them.”
Buffy frowned, then her eyes narrowed. She had a pretty good idea who might have taken Willow’s things, and he was currently twirling and dancing through the room without a care.
“My heart wants to sigh, like a chime that flies from a church on the breeze!”
“Maybe I could help you look for them?” Buffy suggested, wanting to get Willow out of the room so she could talk to Ned. “You go back upstairs and have a good look there, and I’ll stay down here.”
“No…” Willow said, “I have a better idea. Remember when Anya first showed up in Sunnydale, back in high school? She wanted me to help her find her Vengeance Demon necklace using a temporal fold. I bet I could make that work.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Buffy said, “remember skanky Vampire Willow? That way lies badness.”
“I think I’m a little more advanced now, Buffy,” Willow stood up and made her way to the coat rack. “Got a resurrection under my belt, now, remember?”
“How could I forget,” Buffy murmured. “Look, Will, don’t you think you’re taking this whole magic thing too far? I bet you’d find the earrings and the crystals if you just spent some more time looking.”
“It won’t hurt anyone,” Willow replied breezily. “I have to go to the Magic Box, I’m all out of chicken feet. See you later, Buffy.”
She was gone before Buffy could say anything more, slamming the door behind her and walking jauntily down the drive.
“I go to the hills, when my heart is lonely. I know I will hear what I’ve heard before!”
“Oh, shut up!” Buffy shouted, and Ned cut off his singing abruptly. Buffy sank back down on the couch and pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes.
“Hey there, darlin’, didn’t mean to give you a headache.”
“Well, sucks for you, ‘cos you did.” Buffy rolled her eyes, and slumped backwards. “I have work later, too. God, could this day get any worse?”
“You should never say stuff like that,” Ned grinned. “It’s sod’s law. Now something really bad will happen.”
“Like it hasn’t already, Mr. Sticky Thumbs?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ned turned away slightly, not wanting to meet her eye.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You may have been all Von-Trappy when me and Will were making with the conversation, but you heard us, I know you did. Come on, tell me what you did with her earrings and crystals?”
Ned sighed and reached into the pockets of his brightly-coloured pants, and pulled out a handful of dark blue crystals, and dropped them onto the coffee table.
“And the earrings?”
“Didn’t take the earrings, I swear on my Great Aunt Bertha’s life. And I only took the crystals to stop her from doing the summoning spell. Uses too much magic, that one. Makes me nervous.”
“Tell me about it,” Buffy said. “But you’ve made things worse, she’s going to try some weird temporal fold thing instead, and who knows what that will do.”
“Gah.”
“Gah is right,” Buffy sighed, then stood up. “I’d better go shower before work. No one likes a stinky Buffy. Hey, why don’t you make yourself useful and look for Willow’s earrings?”
“No need,” Ned said. “I know where they are.”
“You do? Well why didn’t you say before? My God, you have to be the most infuriating person I’ve ever met!”
Ned shrugged, then grinned.
“Well? Where are they?”
Ned opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the front door being opened. Dawn sauntered in, throwing her rucksack on the floor and hanging her jacket on the hook.
“You should probably ask Little Miss Lightfingers, here,” Ned said, then winked out of existence.
“Huh?” Buffy frowned, then turned to look at Dawn, her mouth dropping open slightly as she realised what Ned meant.
“What?” Dawn asked, “Do I have something on my face?”
Buffy folded her arms and glared at her sister. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
“You’re so weird lately, you know that? First it was talking to thin air, and now random staring? Geez.”
“That’s so not the point right now, Dawn. Fess up, where are Willow’s earrings?”
“What?” Dawn replied, her eyes dropping guiltily to the floor.
“Willow’s earrings. I know you have them.”
Dawn pouted, but didn’t say anything. Buffy raised her eyebrow, hands on her hips and waited.
Eventually Dawn sighed, and started to stomp up the stairs. “I only borrowed them! I was going to put them back, I swear.”
“Dawnie, you can’t just take other people’s things like that,” Buffy followed her sister up to the first floor.
“Well, duh! I’m not stupid.”
“So why did you?” Buffy sighed as she followed her sister into her bedroom. “I thought things were getting better?”
“They are… were,” Dawn sat down on her bed. “I just… I don’t know, Buffy. I know you’re trying hard to get over the whole death thing, but half the time it feels like you’re not even here at all. I mean, I get it. Being in a hell dimension can’t have been fun, but can’t you at least pretend like you’re happy to be back? For me?”
“So this is an attention thing?” Buffy sat down next to her sister, and Dawn leaned her head on her shoulder. “Dawn… I need to tell you something. About… where I was. It wasn’t a hell dimension… not- not even close. The opposite, in fact.”
Dawn’s eyes widened. “Oh God… you mean…”
“Yeah,” Buffy smiled wryly. “I think I was in heaven. It was warm, and peaceful, and quiet. Then Willow meddled in magics she didn’t understand and brought me back. This is... for a long time, being back felt like living in hell.”
“And now it doesn’t? What changed?”
“I don’t know. Stuff. People.”
“Spike-shaped people?” Dawn grinned.
“No!” Buffy flushed. “Well, yeah. I guess. He’s helped. He listens. I don’t have to be anyone other than Buffy with him.”
“That’s good,” Dawn smiled, then nudged Buffy with her elbow. “So, you like him, huh?”
“I didn’t… I didn’t say that!”
“Oh come on, you so do! I saw you the other day at his crypt, with the hands and the blushing. You liiike him, you want to kiiiss him.”
“Dawn! Aren’t we a little old for stupid chants?” Buffy tried to keep the smile from her face, and failed.
“Buffy and Spike, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”
“Oh! You!”
Dawn leapt up, cackling as she dodged Buffy, who was red-faced and throwing soft toys at her head.
“Stop! I’ll stop if you do!” Dawn collapsed in a fit of giggles at the foot of the bed. Her laughter slowly subsided as she looked up at Buffy.
“It’s okay with me if you want to date Spike,” she said. “He’s cool.”
“I don’t know what I want,” Buffy mumbled, then sighed. “Sometimes, I think that I do want him. Then he’ll open his mouth and say something obnoxious to remind me that he’s a soulless vampire.”
“Does that matter?” Dawn asked, standing up again and moving to sit on the bed once more. “Spike doesn’t do evil things anymore. He’s totally good now. And he loves you.”
“I know. But who’s to say that if he ever gets the chip out, he won’t start killing again? There’s no safety-net with him.”
Dawn shrugged. “Then maybe you should just take the chance.”
“Maybe. The others will hate me for it.”
“Who cares what they think?” Dawn scoffed. “They brought you back to life, but that doesn’t mean they should get a say in how you live it.”
“Hmm.” Buffy made a non-committal noise, then remembered the reason she’d followed Dawn up to her room. “Dawnie, where are Willow’s earrings? And is there anything else I need to know about?”
Dawn flushed, and dropped her head forwards, the sides of her long hair falling in a curtain and hiding her face. “There might be a few things that I took from the Magic Box.”
“Dawn.” Buffy’s tone signalled disappointment, rather than anger.
“Sorry. I swear, I won’t do it again. I’ll return everything.”
“And you’ll tell Anya and Willow what you did, and you’ll apologise. Oh, and you’re grounded.”
“What! No, please, can’t I just sneak the things back? They don’t have to know.” Dawn pouted.
“You’re telling them,” Buffy’s voice was firm. “Damn, I have to go shower or I’ll be late for work. I’ll walk you to the Magic Box on my way and you can return everything then.”
“Fine.”
“Good girl,” Buffy grinned as she stood up and patted Dawn on the head.
“Geez, Buffy. I’m not a little kid.”
“You sure about that?” Buffy laughed, “Who was the girl singing childish playground chants not so long ago?”
“Pshaw, and you weren’t throwing soft toys around, huh?”
“They’re a valid source of weaponry!” Buffy said.
“Yeah, if you’re fighting Barney the dinosaur,” Dawn replied.
“That thing creeps me out,” Buffy shuddered. “Okay! Really need to go shower now. You find all the stuff you took, and get ready to go.”
Dawn nodded, and Buffy turned to leave the room. “Hey, Buffy?”
Buffy paused in the doorway.
“I’m sorry that you were taken out of heaven and everything, but I’m glad they did it. I’m happy you’re back. Do you think, maybe, you can be too?”
Buffy smiled. “I’m getting there.”
Chapter Six
“Buffy? Have you seen my summoning crystals?”
“The hills are alive, with the sound of music! With songs they have sung for a thousand years!”
“What, Will?” Buffy asked, trying to ignore Ned’s impersonation of Julie Andrews as he pranced about the living room.
“My summoning crystals. Have you seen them? I could have sworn I left them in the basket on my dresser…”
“Sorry,” Buffy said. “I haven’t seen them. Maybe Tara used them for something?” The witches had started to patch things up, with tentative steps being made towards reconciliation.
“Maybe…” Willow looked doubtful, her teeth worrying her upper lip and her forehead scrunched in confusion. “She usually puts things back after using them, though.”
“The hills fill my heart, with the sound of music! My heart wants to sing every song it hears!”
Buffy rolled her eyes and wished she had some earplugs on hand. Her Imaginary Friend could not carry a tune.
“Shoot,” Willow put the phone back in the cradle. “She’s not answering her cell. This sucks, I really need to use them.”
“Anything I can help you with?” Buffy set her magazine down on the coffee table. Between Ned’s singing and Willow’s chatter, there was no way she could concentrate on the love lives of celebrities.
“I lost my earrings,” Willow said, coming to sit next to Buffy on the couch. “You know, the ones Tara gave me for our anniversary? I wore them to the movies the other day, and I’m pretty sure I put them back in my jewellery box.”
“So wait,” Buffy frowned. “You lost your earrings, so you want to do a spell to find them, but you’ve lost the crystals you need for the spell? Getting a little careless there, arent’cha?”
Willow shot Buffy a hurt look. “It’s not like I lost them on purpose. I know I put both the earrings and the crystals back in their proper places… someone must have taken them.”
Buffy frowned, then her eyes narrowed. She had a pretty good idea who might have taken Willow’s things, and he was currently twirling and dancing through the room without a care.
“My heart wants to sigh, like a chime that flies from a church on the breeze!”
“Maybe I could help you look for them?” Buffy suggested, wanting to get Willow out of the room so she could talk to Ned. “You go back upstairs and have a good look there, and I’ll stay down here.”
“No…” Willow said, “I have a better idea. Remember when Anya first showed up in Sunnydale, back in high school? She wanted me to help her find her Vengeance Demon necklace using a temporal fold. I bet I could make that work.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Buffy said, “remember skanky Vampire Willow? That way lies badness.”
“I think I’m a little more advanced now, Buffy,” Willow stood up and made her way to the coat rack. “Got a resurrection under my belt, now, remember?”
“How could I forget,” Buffy murmured. “Look, Will, don’t you think you’re taking this whole magic thing too far? I bet you’d find the earrings and the crystals if you just spent some more time looking.”
“It won’t hurt anyone,” Willow replied breezily. “I have to go to the Magic Box, I’m all out of chicken feet. See you later, Buffy.”
She was gone before Buffy could say anything more, slamming the door behind her and walking jauntily down the drive.
“I go to the hills, when my heart is lonely. I know I will hear what I’ve heard before!”
“Oh, shut up!” Buffy shouted, and Ned cut off his singing abruptly. Buffy sank back down on the couch and pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes.
“Hey there, darlin’, didn’t mean to give you a headache.”
“Well, sucks for you, ‘cos you did.” Buffy rolled her eyes, and slumped backwards. “I have work later, too. God, could this day get any worse?”
“You should never say stuff like that,” Ned grinned. “It’s sod’s law. Now something really bad will happen.”
“Like it hasn’t already, Mr. Sticky Thumbs?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ned turned away slightly, not wanting to meet her eye.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You may have been all Von-Trappy when me and Will were making with the conversation, but you heard us, I know you did. Come on, tell me what you did with her earrings and crystals?”
Ned sighed and reached into the pockets of his brightly-coloured pants, and pulled out a handful of dark blue crystals, and dropped them onto the coffee table.
“And the earrings?”
“Didn’t take the earrings, I swear on my Great Aunt Bertha’s life. And I only took the crystals to stop her from doing the summoning spell. Uses too much magic, that one. Makes me nervous.”
“Tell me about it,” Buffy said. “But you’ve made things worse, she’s going to try some weird temporal fold thing instead, and who knows what that will do.”
“Gah.”
“Gah is right,” Buffy sighed, then stood up. “I’d better go shower before work. No one likes a stinky Buffy. Hey, why don’t you make yourself useful and look for Willow’s earrings?”
“No need,” Ned said. “I know where they are.”
“You do? Well why didn’t you say before? My God, you have to be the most infuriating person I’ve ever met!”
Ned shrugged, then grinned.
“Well? Where are they?”
Ned opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the front door being opened. Dawn sauntered in, throwing her rucksack on the floor and hanging her jacket on the hook.
“You should probably ask Little Miss Lightfingers, here,” Ned said, then winked out of existence.
“Huh?” Buffy frowned, then turned to look at Dawn, her mouth dropping open slightly as she realised what Ned meant.
“What?” Dawn asked, “Do I have something on my face?”
Buffy folded her arms and glared at her sister. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
“You’re so weird lately, you know that? First it was talking to thin air, and now random staring? Geez.”
“That’s so not the point right now, Dawn. Fess up, where are Willow’s earrings?”
“What?” Dawn replied, her eyes dropping guiltily to the floor.
“Willow’s earrings. I know you have them.”
Dawn pouted, but didn’t say anything. Buffy raised her eyebrow, hands on her hips and waited.
Eventually Dawn sighed, and started to stomp up the stairs. “I only borrowed them! I was going to put them back, I swear.”
“Dawnie, you can’t just take other people’s things like that,” Buffy followed her sister up to the first floor.
“Well, duh! I’m not stupid.”
“So why did you?” Buffy sighed as she followed her sister into her bedroom. “I thought things were getting better?”
“They are… were,” Dawn sat down on her bed. “I just… I don’t know, Buffy. I know you’re trying hard to get over the whole death thing, but half the time it feels like you’re not even here at all. I mean, I get it. Being in a hell dimension can’t have been fun, but can’t you at least pretend like you’re happy to be back? For me?”
“So this is an attention thing?” Buffy sat down next to her sister, and Dawn leaned her head on her shoulder. “Dawn… I need to tell you something. About… where I was. It wasn’t a hell dimension… not- not even close. The opposite, in fact.”
Dawn’s eyes widened. “Oh God… you mean…”
“Yeah,” Buffy smiled wryly. “I think I was in heaven. It was warm, and peaceful, and quiet. Then Willow meddled in magics she didn’t understand and brought me back. This is... for a long time, being back felt like living in hell.”
“And now it doesn’t? What changed?”
“I don’t know. Stuff. People.”
“Spike-shaped people?” Dawn grinned.
“No!” Buffy flushed. “Well, yeah. I guess. He’s helped. He listens. I don’t have to be anyone other than Buffy with him.”
“That’s good,” Dawn smiled, then nudged Buffy with her elbow. “So, you like him, huh?”
“I didn’t… I didn’t say that!”
“Oh come on, you so do! I saw you the other day at his crypt, with the hands and the blushing. You liiike him, you want to kiiiss him.”
“Dawn! Aren’t we a little old for stupid chants?” Buffy tried to keep the smile from her face, and failed.
“Buffy and Spike, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”
“Oh! You!”
Dawn leapt up, cackling as she dodged Buffy, who was red-faced and throwing soft toys at her head.
“Stop! I’ll stop if you do!” Dawn collapsed in a fit of giggles at the foot of the bed. Her laughter slowly subsided as she looked up at Buffy.
“It’s okay with me if you want to date Spike,” she said. “He’s cool.”
“I don’t know what I want,” Buffy mumbled, then sighed. “Sometimes, I think that I do want him. Then he’ll open his mouth and say something obnoxious to remind me that he’s a soulless vampire.”
“Does that matter?” Dawn asked, standing up again and moving to sit on the bed once more. “Spike doesn’t do evil things anymore. He’s totally good now. And he loves you.”
“I know. But who’s to say that if he ever gets the chip out, he won’t start killing again? There’s no safety-net with him.”
Dawn shrugged. “Then maybe you should just take the chance.”
“Maybe. The others will hate me for it.”
“Who cares what they think?” Dawn scoffed. “They brought you back to life, but that doesn’t mean they should get a say in how you live it.”
“Hmm.” Buffy made a non-committal noise, then remembered the reason she’d followed Dawn up to her room. “Dawnie, where are Willow’s earrings? And is there anything else I need to know about?”
Dawn flushed, and dropped her head forwards, the sides of her long hair falling in a curtain and hiding her face. “There might be a few things that I took from the Magic Box.”
“Dawn.” Buffy’s tone signalled disappointment, rather than anger.
“Sorry. I swear, I won’t do it again. I’ll return everything.”
“And you’ll tell Anya and Willow what you did, and you’ll apologise. Oh, and you’re grounded.”
“What! No, please, can’t I just sneak the things back? They don’t have to know.” Dawn pouted.
“You’re telling them,” Buffy’s voice was firm. “Damn, I have to go shower or I’ll be late for work. I’ll walk you to the Magic Box on my way and you can return everything then.”
“Fine.”
“Good girl,” Buffy grinned as she stood up and patted Dawn on the head.
“Geez, Buffy. I’m not a little kid.”
“You sure about that?” Buffy laughed, “Who was the girl singing childish playground chants not so long ago?”
“Pshaw, and you weren’t throwing soft toys around, huh?”
“They’re a valid source of weaponry!” Buffy said.
“Yeah, if you’re fighting Barney the dinosaur,” Dawn replied.
“That thing creeps me out,” Buffy shuddered. “Okay! Really need to go shower now. You find all the stuff you took, and get ready to go.”
Dawn nodded, and Buffy turned to leave the room. “Hey, Buffy?”
Buffy paused in the doorway.
“I’m sorry that you were taken out of heaven and everything, but I’m glad they did it. I’m happy you’re back. Do you think, maybe, you can be too?”
Buffy smiled. “I’m getting there.”
Chapter Seven
A/N: Just one more chapter to go after this. Thanks for the reviews! :)
Chapter Seven
The bell above the door to the Magic Box jangled loudly as Buffy and Dawn walked into the shop. Buffy saw Anya step enthusiastically around the counter, a wide grin on her face that fell when she saw who it was.
“Oh. It’s just you. I thought it might be some customers.”
“Slow day?” Buffy asked, peering around the otherwise empty store.
“Extremely,” Anya replied, picking up her feather duster and flicking away non-existent dust from the top of a fertility statue. “I had a creepy warlock in this morning looking for some very unsanitary items, and Willow bought some chicken feet about an hour ago. She is very good for maintaining profits, you know. Now that she doesn’t steal from me anymore.”
Buffy frowned. It looked like Willow still planned to go ahead with the spell to create a temporal fold, and that was worrying.
“Uh… speaking of stealing,” Dawn said nervously, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a handful of trinkets. “Um, here. I took these from you.”
She dropped the objects on top of the glass of the counter, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Buffy sighed, and nudged her sister, mouthing ‘apologise’ when Dawn looked up.
“How could you do this?” Anya asked, her voice shrill with shock. “I work hard at this store, and I helped you! I took care of you! This is how you say thank you?”
“I’m sorry,” Dawn mumbled, still staring at the floor. She looked up and met Anya’s eyes. “I really am. I don’t know… I can’t really explain why I took the stuff. I just did. And I swear I won’t ever do it again. I promise.”
“You’d better not,” Anya said. “And I shall punish you by making you work for me, and you’d better be thankful that’s all I’m making you do, missy. When I was a Vengeance Demon, I’d have-”
“Vengeance Demon!” Buffy blurted. “Um, Willow. Is gonna do a spell, a bad spell. The one she tried to help you with when you first moved to Sunnydale? A temporal foldy thing.”
“Oh crap,” Anya frowned. “I guess that’s what she wanted the chicken feet for. Damn it, I knew she was up to something! Her eyes were all shifty and narrow.”
“Where would she go to do the spell? She doesn’t even need to do it anymore, Dawn had her earrings all along.”
Anya made a weird coughing noise that sounded like ‘kleptomaniac’, which earned her a glare from Dawn and a frustrated sigh from Buffy.
“Anya, we don’t have time for this. Last time we only had to deal with Willow’s vampy doppelganger, but Willow’s way more powerful now, and she doesn’t exactly have the best track record for spells going right. Who knows what she’ll do this time?”
“Okay, okay,” Anya said, pacing up and down in front of the counter. “She needs an area of high mystical activity to perform the spell, so she’ll have gone to the Hellmouth. We used an empty classroom back then, it was the closest I could get to the library, what with you Scoobies stomping in and out all day. That’s probably why the spell went so wrong, you know.”
“Buffy, I don’t get why you’re so worried about this,” Dawn said, her arms crossed across her chest. “She’s only trying to find her earrings, no big.”
“Big! Yes big!” Buffy said.
“Talkin’ ‘bout me, pet?” Spike’s voice startled them all, as he emerged from the door to the basement. “All right, ladies?”
“Ew, Spike,” Dawn muttered.
Spike smirked, and opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could get the words out, Buffy interrupted.
“We don’t have time for this! Dawn, I just have a bad feeling. Call it my slayer senses going haywire, I don’t know… but it feels wrong. You don’t mess with time.”
“Oh yes, that’s quite right,” Anya put in. “If she does something even slightly wrong, and knowing Willow there’s a high possibility of that, she will most likely displace something from either the past or the future to our timeline. That’s not a good thing.”
“What’s the witch done now?” Spike asked.
“I’ll explain on the way,” Buffy replied. “Crap! I’m supposed to be at work. I can’t lose that job. Ned! Ned, get here now!”
Both Dawn and Anya frowned, wondering who the heck Buffy was referring to, and why she had suddenly started talking to thin air.
“Ned, I need you to go to the gym and tell them I’m sick,” Buffy said, when the demon popped into the shop. “Then get your ass to the Hellmouth, we might need help.”
“Who is she talking to?” Anya asked, weaving her head from side to side as though trying to spot someone.
“Oh, er…” Spike hedged, then sighed. “Oh bugger it. Slayer’s got herself an Imaginary Friend. Goes by the name of Ned McNabb, and he’s been helping her sort out a few things.”
“Spike, don’t be stupid,” Dawn scoffed, “Imaginary Friends don’t exist.”
“Oh my god!” Anya shrieked. “Ned McNabb? The Ned McNabb? Does my hair look okay?”
“Guys! We don’t have time for this. Yes, Dawnie, I have an Imaginary Friend. We’ll talk about it later. Now? We need to get to the Hellmouth and stop Willow from sending us back in time. Or forwards. Whatever.”
“Should we call the others?” Dawn asked. “Tara might be able to help…”
“Good idea,” Buffy frowned. “Dawn, you call them and then stay here.”
“But, Buffy! I can help! This is kind of my fault, anyway.”
“I don’t want you anywhere that there might be trouble,” Buffy said. “You’ll stay.”
“Fine,” Dawn sighed, as she made her way behind the counter towards the phone.
“Let’s go,” Buffy told the others, and she moved towards the door of the shop, face set in grim determination.
***
The sun had set whilst they had been in the Magic Box, so Buffy didn’t have to worry about Spike dodging any fatal rays.
Buffy sighed to herself as she realised that she was worrying about Spike’s safety, and if she was honest with herself – had been doing so for the past few weeks. She thought back to the conversation she’d had with Dawn earlier, and decided that she would definitely have to do something about the Spike situation. Later. Much later.
She shot Spike a sidelong glance, and pulled her eyes away immediately when she saw that he had been staring at her, too. She blushed, and glanced up again to see a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he sauntered along.
“So, what we expectin’ to find when we get to the old Hellmouth?” Spike asked. “Didn’t quite pick up on what the witch is tryin’ to do.”
“She’s going to try to make a temporal fold,” Buffy said. “She’s looking for some earrings, which by the way, don’t even need finding anymore.”
“Ah.” Spike stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it, cupping his hands around the flame.
Buffy felt her heart skip a beat, and mentally glared at it. How could he make something so gross look so sexy?
“Yeah, messing with time never ends well,” Spike said, “knew a bloke once, back in the sixties. He was big on the whole time travel thing. I didn’t take much of it in, mind. Kind of lost the thread when he started going on about time being all wibbly-wobbly.”
“Wibbly-wobbly?” Buffy grinned.
“Yeah. Mad, right?”
“Oh, will you two stop flirting and hurry up!” Anya snapped from several feet in front of them.
Buffy blushed. “There was no flirtage!” she called back, and then smiled at Spike and jogged a little to catch up with Anya.
***
They got to the old high school soon after, arriving at the same time as Xander, Giles and Tara pulled up to the kerb.
Buffy quickly explained what was going on, and why she was so concerned that something would go wrong, and they turned to go into the school.
"You know, I really, really hate this place," Xander said. Hearing bones crunch under his feet, he grimaced as he remembered the Mayor turning into a snake. "Going to add one more ‘really’ to solidify the hatred."
“Don’t have the fondest memories of the place myself,” Spike commented. “Last time I was here I was wearing the ugliest shirt known to man, and the time before that I was trounced on the head with an axe.”
“Hey! That’s my shirt you’re insulting, Bleach Boy,” Xander said. “And you’re forgetting the time you came here to vamp-nap me and Willow.”
“Yeah,” Spike rolled his eyes. “And now I’m riding in on the white horse to rescue her. Ironic, ain’t it?”
“Guys, be quiet,” Buffy cut in on the impending argument. “We’re almost at the library.”
“I’m not sure that we’re really all needed here, Buffy,” Giles said, sounding weary. “Willow may not have begun the spell, and if she has it might simply be a case of pulling her out of it.”
“I don’t know, Giles,” Buffy replied doubtfully. “I just have this feeling…”
“I feel it too,” Tara put in, speaking for the first time since being told the situation her girlfriend was in. “A-and you didn’t see her the last time she tried a spell this dangerous, Giles. It was scary.”
There was no need to say which spell she was referring to.
“Quite,” Giles frowned. “Very well then, let’s get on.”
Buffy pushed open what remained of the doors, and they all followed her into the decimated library.
Willow was seated cross-legged in the middle of the room, a circle of sand around her and various magical accoutrements scattered in intricate patterns. She seemed to be in some sort of trance, and there was a frightening darkness in her eyes.
Buffy was unsurprised to see Ned in the room, hovering over Willow’s shoulder, a worried expression on his face.
“My god, Woman!” he exclaimed, when he saw Buffy. “Took your time, didn’t you? It’s getting pretty intense in here.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, and made her way over to Willow, Tara following swiftly behind.
“Willow?” Buffy said, waving her hand in front of Willow’s face. “Snap out of it.”
“Buffy,” Tara’s voice was worried. “She’s too deep into the trance. She’s- hmm. Think of it as if she’s browsing a catalogue, trying to find the right time-spot.”
Buffy frowned. “What do we do?”
“Let me try something,” Tara said, and moved to stand in front of Willow, careful not to disturb the magic circle. She held out her hands above Willow’s head, and closed her eyes. A soft blue glow began to gather around her hands.
“Willow, sweetie?” Tara said, “Come on. I need you to wake up, now.”
The blue glow began to pulse slightly, then grew more and more intense before it burst up into the air above Willow and turned red. Willow’s head snapped backwards, and her eyes darkened until they were black.
“Get back!” Buffy called, but Tara continued holding her hands over Willow.
“Eryishon. K’shala. Meh-uhn,” Willow said, suddenly, her voice hard and low. “Diprecht. Doh-tehenlo nu-Eryishon.”
Buffy watched as Willow reached out, unseeing, but able to find what she needed – a small bottle of sand, which she then began to pour out onto the ground.
The red light was pulsing once more, until it seemed to drum in synchrony with all the heartbeats in the room. It flashed blue, then burst outwards in a sunburst, temporarily blinding Buffy. When she could see again, the light had coalesced into a swirling portal in the crack over the Hellmouth. And there was something coming out of it.
“Oh God,” she whispered, as she realised what Willow had done, what she’d brought forth and from when.
“We didn’t bring any weapons!” Xander shouted from somewhere behind her.
There was a rumbling beneath the ground, as more and more of the creature emerged, its pale fleshy tentacles thrusting through the air blindly.
Willow was still seated in the middle of the library, still deep into her trance, deaf and blind to Tara’s pleas to move – oh god – move.
Spike had rushed forwards, and was using a blunt piece of metal to attack one of the creature’s tentacles. Buffy followed his example, scooping up what looked like part of the old book cage, and slamming it down onto the creature.
“The car!” Giles called, “there are weapons in the car. Xander, Anya, quickly!”
“Tara! Look out!”
Buffy was startled from the fight by Ned’s bellowing voice, and abstractly she realised that he must have made himself visible again to shout the warning.
It came too late, and there was a pained cry as one of the creature’s pointed tentacles pierced through Tara’s chest, and she fell lifeless to the ground.
Chapter Seven
The bell above the door to the Magic Box jangled loudly as Buffy and Dawn walked into the shop. Buffy saw Anya step enthusiastically around the counter, a wide grin on her face that fell when she saw who it was.
“Oh. It’s just you. I thought it might be some customers.”
“Slow day?” Buffy asked, peering around the otherwise empty store.
“Extremely,” Anya replied, picking up her feather duster and flicking away non-existent dust from the top of a fertility statue. “I had a creepy warlock in this morning looking for some very unsanitary items, and Willow bought some chicken feet about an hour ago. She is very good for maintaining profits, you know. Now that she doesn’t steal from me anymore.”
Buffy frowned. It looked like Willow still planned to go ahead with the spell to create a temporal fold, and that was worrying.
“Uh… speaking of stealing,” Dawn said nervously, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a handful of trinkets. “Um, here. I took these from you.”
She dropped the objects on top of the glass of the counter, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Buffy sighed, and nudged her sister, mouthing ‘apologise’ when Dawn looked up.
“How could you do this?” Anya asked, her voice shrill with shock. “I work hard at this store, and I helped you! I took care of you! This is how you say thank you?”
“I’m sorry,” Dawn mumbled, still staring at the floor. She looked up and met Anya’s eyes. “I really am. I don’t know… I can’t really explain why I took the stuff. I just did. And I swear I won’t ever do it again. I promise.”
“You’d better not,” Anya said. “And I shall punish you by making you work for me, and you’d better be thankful that’s all I’m making you do, missy. When I was a Vengeance Demon, I’d have-”
“Vengeance Demon!” Buffy blurted. “Um, Willow. Is gonna do a spell, a bad spell. The one she tried to help you with when you first moved to Sunnydale? A temporal foldy thing.”
“Oh crap,” Anya frowned. “I guess that’s what she wanted the chicken feet for. Damn it, I knew she was up to something! Her eyes were all shifty and narrow.”
“Where would she go to do the spell? She doesn’t even need to do it anymore, Dawn had her earrings all along.”
Anya made a weird coughing noise that sounded like ‘kleptomaniac’, which earned her a glare from Dawn and a frustrated sigh from Buffy.
“Anya, we don’t have time for this. Last time we only had to deal with Willow’s vampy doppelganger, but Willow’s way more powerful now, and she doesn’t exactly have the best track record for spells going right. Who knows what she’ll do this time?”
“Okay, okay,” Anya said, pacing up and down in front of the counter. “She needs an area of high mystical activity to perform the spell, so she’ll have gone to the Hellmouth. We used an empty classroom back then, it was the closest I could get to the library, what with you Scoobies stomping in and out all day. That’s probably why the spell went so wrong, you know.”
“Buffy, I don’t get why you’re so worried about this,” Dawn said, her arms crossed across her chest. “She’s only trying to find her earrings, no big.”
“Big! Yes big!” Buffy said.
“Talkin’ ‘bout me, pet?” Spike’s voice startled them all, as he emerged from the door to the basement. “All right, ladies?”
“Ew, Spike,” Dawn muttered.
Spike smirked, and opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could get the words out, Buffy interrupted.
“We don’t have time for this! Dawn, I just have a bad feeling. Call it my slayer senses going haywire, I don’t know… but it feels wrong. You don’t mess with time.”
“Oh yes, that’s quite right,” Anya put in. “If she does something even slightly wrong, and knowing Willow there’s a high possibility of that, she will most likely displace something from either the past or the future to our timeline. That’s not a good thing.”
“What’s the witch done now?” Spike asked.
“I’ll explain on the way,” Buffy replied. “Crap! I’m supposed to be at work. I can’t lose that job. Ned! Ned, get here now!”
Both Dawn and Anya frowned, wondering who the heck Buffy was referring to, and why she had suddenly started talking to thin air.
“Ned, I need you to go to the gym and tell them I’m sick,” Buffy said, when the demon popped into the shop. “Then get your ass to the Hellmouth, we might need help.”
“Who is she talking to?” Anya asked, weaving her head from side to side as though trying to spot someone.
“Oh, er…” Spike hedged, then sighed. “Oh bugger it. Slayer’s got herself an Imaginary Friend. Goes by the name of Ned McNabb, and he’s been helping her sort out a few things.”
“Spike, don’t be stupid,” Dawn scoffed, “Imaginary Friends don’t exist.”
“Oh my god!” Anya shrieked. “Ned McNabb? The Ned McNabb? Does my hair look okay?”
“Guys! We don’t have time for this. Yes, Dawnie, I have an Imaginary Friend. We’ll talk about it later. Now? We need to get to the Hellmouth and stop Willow from sending us back in time. Or forwards. Whatever.”
“Should we call the others?” Dawn asked. “Tara might be able to help…”
“Good idea,” Buffy frowned. “Dawn, you call them and then stay here.”
“But, Buffy! I can help! This is kind of my fault, anyway.”
“I don’t want you anywhere that there might be trouble,” Buffy said. “You’ll stay.”
“Fine,” Dawn sighed, as she made her way behind the counter towards the phone.
“Let’s go,” Buffy told the others, and she moved towards the door of the shop, face set in grim determination.
***
The sun had set whilst they had been in the Magic Box, so Buffy didn’t have to worry about Spike dodging any fatal rays.
Buffy sighed to herself as she realised that she was worrying about Spike’s safety, and if she was honest with herself – had been doing so for the past few weeks. She thought back to the conversation she’d had with Dawn earlier, and decided that she would definitely have to do something about the Spike situation. Later. Much later.
She shot Spike a sidelong glance, and pulled her eyes away immediately when she saw that he had been staring at her, too. She blushed, and glanced up again to see a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he sauntered along.
“So, what we expectin’ to find when we get to the old Hellmouth?” Spike asked. “Didn’t quite pick up on what the witch is tryin’ to do.”
“She’s going to try to make a temporal fold,” Buffy said. “She’s looking for some earrings, which by the way, don’t even need finding anymore.”
“Ah.” Spike stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it, cupping his hands around the flame.
Buffy felt her heart skip a beat, and mentally glared at it. How could he make something so gross look so sexy?
“Yeah, messing with time never ends well,” Spike said, “knew a bloke once, back in the sixties. He was big on the whole time travel thing. I didn’t take much of it in, mind. Kind of lost the thread when he started going on about time being all wibbly-wobbly.”
“Wibbly-wobbly?” Buffy grinned.
“Yeah. Mad, right?”
“Oh, will you two stop flirting and hurry up!” Anya snapped from several feet in front of them.
Buffy blushed. “There was no flirtage!” she called back, and then smiled at Spike and jogged a little to catch up with Anya.
***
They got to the old high school soon after, arriving at the same time as Xander, Giles and Tara pulled up to the kerb.
Buffy quickly explained what was going on, and why she was so concerned that something would go wrong, and they turned to go into the school.
"You know, I really, really hate this place," Xander said. Hearing bones crunch under his feet, he grimaced as he remembered the Mayor turning into a snake. "Going to add one more ‘really’ to solidify the hatred."
“Don’t have the fondest memories of the place myself,” Spike commented. “Last time I was here I was wearing the ugliest shirt known to man, and the time before that I was trounced on the head with an axe.”
“Hey! That’s my shirt you’re insulting, Bleach Boy,” Xander said. “And you’re forgetting the time you came here to vamp-nap me and Willow.”
“Yeah,” Spike rolled his eyes. “And now I’m riding in on the white horse to rescue her. Ironic, ain’t it?”
“Guys, be quiet,” Buffy cut in on the impending argument. “We’re almost at the library.”
“I’m not sure that we’re really all needed here, Buffy,” Giles said, sounding weary. “Willow may not have begun the spell, and if she has it might simply be a case of pulling her out of it.”
“I don’t know, Giles,” Buffy replied doubtfully. “I just have this feeling…”
“I feel it too,” Tara put in, speaking for the first time since being told the situation her girlfriend was in. “A-and you didn’t see her the last time she tried a spell this dangerous, Giles. It was scary.”
There was no need to say which spell she was referring to.
“Quite,” Giles frowned. “Very well then, let’s get on.”
Buffy pushed open what remained of the doors, and they all followed her into the decimated library.
Willow was seated cross-legged in the middle of the room, a circle of sand around her and various magical accoutrements scattered in intricate patterns. She seemed to be in some sort of trance, and there was a frightening darkness in her eyes.
Buffy was unsurprised to see Ned in the room, hovering over Willow’s shoulder, a worried expression on his face.
“My god, Woman!” he exclaimed, when he saw Buffy. “Took your time, didn’t you? It’s getting pretty intense in here.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, and made her way over to Willow, Tara following swiftly behind.
“Willow?” Buffy said, waving her hand in front of Willow’s face. “Snap out of it.”
“Buffy,” Tara’s voice was worried. “She’s too deep into the trance. She’s- hmm. Think of it as if she’s browsing a catalogue, trying to find the right time-spot.”
Buffy frowned. “What do we do?”
“Let me try something,” Tara said, and moved to stand in front of Willow, careful not to disturb the magic circle. She held out her hands above Willow’s head, and closed her eyes. A soft blue glow began to gather around her hands.
“Willow, sweetie?” Tara said, “Come on. I need you to wake up, now.”
The blue glow began to pulse slightly, then grew more and more intense before it burst up into the air above Willow and turned red. Willow’s head snapped backwards, and her eyes darkened until they were black.
“Get back!” Buffy called, but Tara continued holding her hands over Willow.
“Eryishon. K’shala. Meh-uhn,” Willow said, suddenly, her voice hard and low. “Diprecht. Doh-tehenlo nu-Eryishon.”
Buffy watched as Willow reached out, unseeing, but able to find what she needed – a small bottle of sand, which she then began to pour out onto the ground.
The red light was pulsing once more, until it seemed to drum in synchrony with all the heartbeats in the room. It flashed blue, then burst outwards in a sunburst, temporarily blinding Buffy. When she could see again, the light had coalesced into a swirling portal in the crack over the Hellmouth. And there was something coming out of it.
“Oh God,” she whispered, as she realised what Willow had done, what she’d brought forth and from when.
“We didn’t bring any weapons!” Xander shouted from somewhere behind her.
There was a rumbling beneath the ground, as more and more of the creature emerged, its pale fleshy tentacles thrusting through the air blindly.
Willow was still seated in the middle of the library, still deep into her trance, deaf and blind to Tara’s pleas to move – oh god – move.
Spike had rushed forwards, and was using a blunt piece of metal to attack one of the creature’s tentacles. Buffy followed his example, scooping up what looked like part of the old book cage, and slamming it down onto the creature.
“The car!” Giles called, “there are weapons in the car. Xander, Anya, quickly!”
“Tara! Look out!”
Buffy was startled from the fight by Ned’s bellowing voice, and abstractly she realised that he must have made himself visible again to shout the warning.
It came too late, and there was a pained cry as one of the creature’s pointed tentacles pierced through Tara’s chest, and she fell lifeless to the ground.
Chapter Eight
A/N: Thank you for the reviews! This is the last chapter of this little fic, hope you enjoy :)
Chapter Eight
Buffy’s eyes widened as Tara fell to the floor, a wordless scream falling from her mouth. Willow was still sitting cross-legged, back rigid and eyes wide and unseeing. Spike had rushed forwards towards Tara when the creature had stabbed its tentacle through Tara’s chest, and was now cradling her head on his lap.
The creature let out a hellish roar, and resumed its attack. Buffy hit at it over and over with the piece of metal she had found, managing to sever four of its slimy limbs, keeping it at bay for the moment. But it wouldn’t be long before more emerged from the time portal above the Hellmouth.
“Buffy,” Spike called, “we need to get her to the hospital. She’s losin’ too much blood. Her heartbeat’s slowing.”
Buffy shot a quick glance to where Spike was seated with Tara, and saw that he had cut the tentacle off, so that only the part through Tara’s chest remained. He scooped her up in his arms.
“Take her,” Spike said, trying to put her in Buffy’s arms.
Buffy shook her head. “No, I need to finish this. Did it once, I’ll do it again. You get her to the hospital, Spike.”
There were three startled gasps from the door of the library as Giles, Xander and Anya returned, axes and swords in hand.
“Good Lord,” Giles said, staring at Tara’s limp form.
“What the hell have you done?” Xander shouted, staring at Spike. “Get away from her!”
“Xander, Spike’s helping,” Buffy said, then turned back to look at the vampire, her eyes fixed on his. “Get her to the hospital. I know she’ll be safe with you.”
“Safe?” Xander scoffed. “She’s covered in blood! How do we know he won’t get hungry and have a little snack on the way? I’ll take her.”
“There’s no time for this!” Buffy shouted. “Tara could be dying and you’re standing here arguing! Xander, we might need you here to help get through to Willow. And I trust Spike. Now go!”
Spike’s eyes had widened when Buffy said she trusted him, and he gave her a look filled with all the emotion he was feeling. She smiled weakly back at him, and then he turned and ran from the room, Tara clutched tight against his chest.
Giles handed Buffy an axe. “We need to stop this, as soon as possible.”
“It’s just going to keep coming, Giles,” Buffy said, as she darted forwards and sliced another tentacle from the creature as it began to emerge from the portal.
There was a low moan, and Willow’s eyelids began to flutter. She swayed a little from side to side, then seemed to snap out of the trance she’d been in, and began looking around wildly.
“What…?” Her voice was hoarse. “What’s going on?”
The portal disgorged more and more of the creature in a seemingly never ending surge of sticky, fleshy limbs and tentacles.
Buffy leapt over the debris on the floor of the library to reach it, hacking and slashing at the creature, trying to ignore the horrible squishing sounds it made as the limbs were severed and fell to the ground.
She felt Xander and Giles come up behind her, weapons in hand as they too joined in on the fight. Anya had gone over to Willow, helping her stand up, and Buffy had no clue where Ned had disappeared to, and at that moment, she didn’t care. Though it would have been nice if he’d stuck around to help.
“You and your stupid magic has done this,” Anya said, gripping Willow’s arm tighter than she normally would have. “Fix it!”
“I-I…” Willow looked around wildly, trying to take everything in. “What… I don’t understand.”
Anya sighed heavily. “You created a temporal fold, but something went wrong - as usual. So now we’ve got a big swirling time portal with a seriously disgusting demon coming from it, Tara’s in the hospital – or quite possibly being eaten by Spike – and if Xander gets damaged I am not going to be happy!”
“Tara’s in the hospital?” Willow’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“Did I not just explain? Time portal. Hellmouth. Monster. Got it?”
Willow nodded dumbly.
“Good! Now fix it.”
Willow sank to her knees next to the circle of sand, and closed her eyes, placing her hands flat against the floor, palms down.
“Fixing now would be good!” Buffy called, only just managing to avoid being knocked over.
Willow began to chant, the words too low and monotonous to hear, and the blue light that had formed the portal began to emerge and surround the creature, bathing the whole room in an eerie glow.
Her chants became louder, and the light brighter, and then there was a loud explosion followed by a strange suctioning sound, as the creature was pulled back into the portal and it closed up with a bang.
The silence left behind was deafening, after so much noise and mayhem its presence was profound.
Buffy sighed, and tossed the metal from the book cage to the ground, and swinging her axe onto her shoulder. “We need to get to the hospital.”
“Oh Goddess, Tara,” Willow’s eyes filled with tears, and she began to visibly shake.
“Yeah,” Buffy said. “I just hope she’s all right.”
***
Buffy pushed open the front door with a sigh, setting her keys down on the hall table and hanging up her jacket. Dawn followed silently behind her, slipping her shoes from her feet and then padding into the living room.
Both sisters sank down onto the couch, neither sure what to say. It felt like the end of an era, and though Dawn had said goodbye before, this time it really felt final.
“You think he’ll come back?” Dawn asked, leaning back and sliding her head down to rest on Buffy’s shoulder.
“Not to stay,” Buffy replied, resting her head against Dawn’s. “But he’ll visit. Xander and Anya’s wedding isn’t too far away, so he’ll be back for that at least. I’ll miss him, though.”
“Are you gonna miss Willow, too?”
“I’ve been missing her for a while, Dawn,” Buffy said, sadly. “We haven’t been close in a long time.”
“I won’t miss her,” Dawn said fiercely. “Not after what she did. Tara could’ve…”
“She didn’t,” Buffy replied. “Lucky that it didn’t hit any vital organs.”
“Lucky that Spike drives like a maniac.”
Buffy smiled. Ned’s disappearance at the Hellmouth had been because he’d gone with Spike and Tara to the hospital, apparently popping into the car and scaring ‘the bejeesus’ out of the vampire – which Spike vehemently denied, of course.
To hear her Imaginary Friend tell it, Spike had broken nearly all the rules of the road as he raced towards Sunnydale Memorial, and had even crashed through the hospital’s welcome sign as he pulled up outside.
Dawn yawned, and stood up. “I think I’m going to go to bed. Why Giles couldn’t have got an earlier flight, I don’t know.”
“Night, Dawnie,” Buffy called, as her sister went upstairs. “I’m not patrolling tonight, so I’ll be here.”
“Night,” Dawn shouted back down, and then a few moments later Buffy heard her sister’s bedroom door click shut.
Buffy leaned her head against the back of the couch and groaned. She was tired, but she knew that she would be unable to sleep – there were too many thoughts milling around in her mind.
A quiet pop let her know that Ned had teleported in, and she smiled as she sat up. He was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table in front of the couch, smiling back.
“Everything okay?” he asked, removing his fedora from his head and twirling it in his hands.
“Peachy,” Buffy replied. “Giles has left. Willow’s gone to England to train her magics at a coven. The only good thing is that Tara was awake and talking earlier. The doctors think that she’ll be well enough to come home by the weekend.”
“Sorry about your old man leaving,” Ned said. “He was determined though; even I couldn’t change his mind.”
Buffy looked at Ned suspiciously. “Did you do something?”
“Who? Me?” Ned’s eyes were wide and innocent, but he soon dropped the act. “Okay, yeah. I fed him some false news reports about his hometown. Hooligans and thieves and that kind of thing. Bugger just decides to live elsewhere instead, doesn’t he?”
“I appreciate the effort, though,” Buffy said. “Thanks. But I think we need to talk.”
Ned gasped in mock horror, and leapt up from the coffee table, placing the back of his hand over his eyes as he adopted the pose of a weepy romance novel heroine.
“Say it ain’t so! Don’t do this to me, Buffy!” he dropped to his knees before her, and buried his head in her lap, loud fake sobs filling the room. “Oh please, Buffy! Tell me it’s not true!”
“Get off me,” Buffy grumbled, good-naturedly.
“But-but-” Ned stammered, looking up at her with comically wide eyes. “Nothing good ever comes of those words. You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you? Aren’t you!”
Buffy couldn’t help herself as she dissolved into giggles, her Imaginary Friend following suit and rolling on the floor in laughter.
A few minutes later she sobered, the occasional chuckle rising up as she looked at Ned. “You’re right though, in a way. I guess I am kind of breaking up with you.”
Ned scrambled to his feet, and pulled out his notebook, brandishing it at her. “Really? But we’re not done with your issues!”
“I think we are,” Buffy said, then sighed. “I’ve been thinking a lot the past couple of days. Willow went off into the deep end with her magicks, and Tara almost died. We all could have been hurt a lot more than we were. It was a… wake up call, I guess. Ever since I came back, it’s like I’ve only been half here… going through the motions. You’ve helped. And Spike, he’s helped too.”
Buffy paused, and Ned smiled, nodding at her to continue.
“Fighting that creature in the old library, well, it brought back a hell of a load of memories. My very first apocalypse. The night I died. You know, the first time.” Buffy smiled wryly. “You know what I said to Giles that night?”
Ned shook his head, his usual grin replaced by a serious expression as he listened.
“I don’t wanna die.” Buffy stood up, and walked into the hallway, standing before the mirror. She fingered the bite marks on her neck, the punctures the Master had made still visible even through the scarring from Angel and Dracula.
“I don’t want to die.” Her voice was stronger now, more sure, as she tore her gaze away from her reflection and looked to Ned once more.
“I think I’m okay now, Ned.” She smiled, and swallowed around the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. “I’ve still got issues. Who doesn’t? But… I think you can go now. Find someone else who needs your help.”
Ned nodded, and turned his head away slightly.
“Are you crying?” Buffy asked.
“No! Of course not!” Ned’s voice was wobbly.
“Oh come here, you big freak,” Buffy pulled Ned into a tight hug. “For some reason, I’m gonna miss you.”
“Miss you too,” Ned said, as he pulled out of the hug. “Guess I’d better be going then. Bye, Buffy. I’m glad that I got you instead of the murderer in Kansas.”
“My alternative was a murderer in Kansas?” Buffy exclaimed. “Well that’s just insulting.”
She sighed when she realised that Ned had gone, and wandered into the kitchen, arms wrapped around herself. She knew that she’d made the right decision, but for the past few weeks Ned had been like a crutch, a support to lean on that she didn’t even know she’d needed.
She heard the snick of a lighter, then the quiet whoosh of a flame as a cigarette was lit. She peered out the backdoor, and could see Spike’s shadowy silhouette, a column of smoke rising into the air above him.
Buffy smiled to herself. She walked slowly across the kitchen, and pushed open the porch door.
Perhaps it was time to find that support somewhere else.
Chapter Eight
Buffy’s eyes widened as Tara fell to the floor, a wordless scream falling from her mouth. Willow was still sitting cross-legged, back rigid and eyes wide and unseeing. Spike had rushed forwards towards Tara when the creature had stabbed its tentacle through Tara’s chest, and was now cradling her head on his lap.
The creature let out a hellish roar, and resumed its attack. Buffy hit at it over and over with the piece of metal she had found, managing to sever four of its slimy limbs, keeping it at bay for the moment. But it wouldn’t be long before more emerged from the time portal above the Hellmouth.
“Buffy,” Spike called, “we need to get her to the hospital. She’s losin’ too much blood. Her heartbeat’s slowing.”
Buffy shot a quick glance to where Spike was seated with Tara, and saw that he had cut the tentacle off, so that only the part through Tara’s chest remained. He scooped her up in his arms.
“Take her,” Spike said, trying to put her in Buffy’s arms.
Buffy shook her head. “No, I need to finish this. Did it once, I’ll do it again. You get her to the hospital, Spike.”
There were three startled gasps from the door of the library as Giles, Xander and Anya returned, axes and swords in hand.
“Good Lord,” Giles said, staring at Tara’s limp form.
“What the hell have you done?” Xander shouted, staring at Spike. “Get away from her!”
“Xander, Spike’s helping,” Buffy said, then turned back to look at the vampire, her eyes fixed on his. “Get her to the hospital. I know she’ll be safe with you.”
“Safe?” Xander scoffed. “She’s covered in blood! How do we know he won’t get hungry and have a little snack on the way? I’ll take her.”
“There’s no time for this!” Buffy shouted. “Tara could be dying and you’re standing here arguing! Xander, we might need you here to help get through to Willow. And I trust Spike. Now go!”
Spike’s eyes had widened when Buffy said she trusted him, and he gave her a look filled with all the emotion he was feeling. She smiled weakly back at him, and then he turned and ran from the room, Tara clutched tight against his chest.
Giles handed Buffy an axe. “We need to stop this, as soon as possible.”
“It’s just going to keep coming, Giles,” Buffy said, as she darted forwards and sliced another tentacle from the creature as it began to emerge from the portal.
There was a low moan, and Willow’s eyelids began to flutter. She swayed a little from side to side, then seemed to snap out of the trance she’d been in, and began looking around wildly.
“What…?” Her voice was hoarse. “What’s going on?”
The portal disgorged more and more of the creature in a seemingly never ending surge of sticky, fleshy limbs and tentacles.
Buffy leapt over the debris on the floor of the library to reach it, hacking and slashing at the creature, trying to ignore the horrible squishing sounds it made as the limbs were severed and fell to the ground.
She felt Xander and Giles come up behind her, weapons in hand as they too joined in on the fight. Anya had gone over to Willow, helping her stand up, and Buffy had no clue where Ned had disappeared to, and at that moment, she didn’t care. Though it would have been nice if he’d stuck around to help.
“You and your stupid magic has done this,” Anya said, gripping Willow’s arm tighter than she normally would have. “Fix it!”
“I-I…” Willow looked around wildly, trying to take everything in. “What… I don’t understand.”
Anya sighed heavily. “You created a temporal fold, but something went wrong - as usual. So now we’ve got a big swirling time portal with a seriously disgusting demon coming from it, Tara’s in the hospital – or quite possibly being eaten by Spike – and if Xander gets damaged I am not going to be happy!”
“Tara’s in the hospital?” Willow’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“Did I not just explain? Time portal. Hellmouth. Monster. Got it?”
Willow nodded dumbly.
“Good! Now fix it.”
Willow sank to her knees next to the circle of sand, and closed her eyes, placing her hands flat against the floor, palms down.
“Fixing now would be good!” Buffy called, only just managing to avoid being knocked over.
Willow began to chant, the words too low and monotonous to hear, and the blue light that had formed the portal began to emerge and surround the creature, bathing the whole room in an eerie glow.
Her chants became louder, and the light brighter, and then there was a loud explosion followed by a strange suctioning sound, as the creature was pulled back into the portal and it closed up with a bang.
The silence left behind was deafening, after so much noise and mayhem its presence was profound.
Buffy sighed, and tossed the metal from the book cage to the ground, and swinging her axe onto her shoulder. “We need to get to the hospital.”
“Oh Goddess, Tara,” Willow’s eyes filled with tears, and she began to visibly shake.
“Yeah,” Buffy said. “I just hope she’s all right.”
***
Buffy pushed open the front door with a sigh, setting her keys down on the hall table and hanging up her jacket. Dawn followed silently behind her, slipping her shoes from her feet and then padding into the living room.
Both sisters sank down onto the couch, neither sure what to say. It felt like the end of an era, and though Dawn had said goodbye before, this time it really felt final.
“You think he’ll come back?” Dawn asked, leaning back and sliding her head down to rest on Buffy’s shoulder.
“Not to stay,” Buffy replied, resting her head against Dawn’s. “But he’ll visit. Xander and Anya’s wedding isn’t too far away, so he’ll be back for that at least. I’ll miss him, though.”
“Are you gonna miss Willow, too?”
“I’ve been missing her for a while, Dawn,” Buffy said, sadly. “We haven’t been close in a long time.”
“I won’t miss her,” Dawn said fiercely. “Not after what she did. Tara could’ve…”
“She didn’t,” Buffy replied. “Lucky that it didn’t hit any vital organs.”
“Lucky that Spike drives like a maniac.”
Buffy smiled. Ned’s disappearance at the Hellmouth had been because he’d gone with Spike and Tara to the hospital, apparently popping into the car and scaring ‘the bejeesus’ out of the vampire – which Spike vehemently denied, of course.
To hear her Imaginary Friend tell it, Spike had broken nearly all the rules of the road as he raced towards Sunnydale Memorial, and had even crashed through the hospital’s welcome sign as he pulled up outside.
Dawn yawned, and stood up. “I think I’m going to go to bed. Why Giles couldn’t have got an earlier flight, I don’t know.”
“Night, Dawnie,” Buffy called, as her sister went upstairs. “I’m not patrolling tonight, so I’ll be here.”
“Night,” Dawn shouted back down, and then a few moments later Buffy heard her sister’s bedroom door click shut.
Buffy leaned her head against the back of the couch and groaned. She was tired, but she knew that she would be unable to sleep – there were too many thoughts milling around in her mind.
A quiet pop let her know that Ned had teleported in, and she smiled as she sat up. He was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table in front of the couch, smiling back.
“Everything okay?” he asked, removing his fedora from his head and twirling it in his hands.
“Peachy,” Buffy replied. “Giles has left. Willow’s gone to England to train her magics at a coven. The only good thing is that Tara was awake and talking earlier. The doctors think that she’ll be well enough to come home by the weekend.”
“Sorry about your old man leaving,” Ned said. “He was determined though; even I couldn’t change his mind.”
Buffy looked at Ned suspiciously. “Did you do something?”
“Who? Me?” Ned’s eyes were wide and innocent, but he soon dropped the act. “Okay, yeah. I fed him some false news reports about his hometown. Hooligans and thieves and that kind of thing. Bugger just decides to live elsewhere instead, doesn’t he?”
“I appreciate the effort, though,” Buffy said. “Thanks. But I think we need to talk.”
Ned gasped in mock horror, and leapt up from the coffee table, placing the back of his hand over his eyes as he adopted the pose of a weepy romance novel heroine.
“Say it ain’t so! Don’t do this to me, Buffy!” he dropped to his knees before her, and buried his head in her lap, loud fake sobs filling the room. “Oh please, Buffy! Tell me it’s not true!”
“Get off me,” Buffy grumbled, good-naturedly.
“But-but-” Ned stammered, looking up at her with comically wide eyes. “Nothing good ever comes of those words. You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you? Aren’t you!”
Buffy couldn’t help herself as she dissolved into giggles, her Imaginary Friend following suit and rolling on the floor in laughter.
A few minutes later she sobered, the occasional chuckle rising up as she looked at Ned. “You’re right though, in a way. I guess I am kind of breaking up with you.”
Ned scrambled to his feet, and pulled out his notebook, brandishing it at her. “Really? But we’re not done with your issues!”
“I think we are,” Buffy said, then sighed. “I’ve been thinking a lot the past couple of days. Willow went off into the deep end with her magicks, and Tara almost died. We all could have been hurt a lot more than we were. It was a… wake up call, I guess. Ever since I came back, it’s like I’ve only been half here… going through the motions. You’ve helped. And Spike, he’s helped too.”
Buffy paused, and Ned smiled, nodding at her to continue.
“Fighting that creature in the old library, well, it brought back a hell of a load of memories. My very first apocalypse. The night I died. You know, the first time.” Buffy smiled wryly. “You know what I said to Giles that night?”
Ned shook his head, his usual grin replaced by a serious expression as he listened.
“I don’t wanna die.” Buffy stood up, and walked into the hallway, standing before the mirror. She fingered the bite marks on her neck, the punctures the Master had made still visible even through the scarring from Angel and Dracula.
“I don’t want to die.” Her voice was stronger now, more sure, as she tore her gaze away from her reflection and looked to Ned once more.
“I think I’m okay now, Ned.” She smiled, and swallowed around the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. “I’ve still got issues. Who doesn’t? But… I think you can go now. Find someone else who needs your help.”
Ned nodded, and turned his head away slightly.
“Are you crying?” Buffy asked.
“No! Of course not!” Ned’s voice was wobbly.
“Oh come here, you big freak,” Buffy pulled Ned into a tight hug. “For some reason, I’m gonna miss you.”
“Miss you too,” Ned said, as he pulled out of the hug. “Guess I’d better be going then. Bye, Buffy. I’m glad that I got you instead of the murderer in Kansas.”
“My alternative was a murderer in Kansas?” Buffy exclaimed. “Well that’s just insulting.”
She sighed when she realised that Ned had gone, and wandered into the kitchen, arms wrapped around herself. She knew that she’d made the right decision, but for the past few weeks Ned had been like a crutch, a support to lean on that she didn’t even know she’d needed.
She heard the snick of a lighter, then the quiet whoosh of a flame as a cigarette was lit. She peered out the backdoor, and could see Spike’s shadowy silhouette, a column of smoke rising into the air above him.
Buffy smiled to herself. She walked slowly across the kitchen, and pushed open the porch door.
Perhaps it was time to find that support somewhere else.
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