“M-Mother?”

Seeing Anne alive in the past was nothing compared to seeing her now. Spike squeezed his eyes closed and opened them again to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. She was still dressed in her nightclothes but, despite the translucency, looked much healthier than when he had last seen her.

“Yes, darling, I’m here.” She reached out a hand, which paused centimetres from his cheek. Spike felt as if a golf ball had lodged itself in his throat.

“You’re glowing,” he said, choking back tears.

She chuckled. “Ghosts tend to do that.”

“You – are you – I mean -”

“Why don’t you just let me explain rather than trying to work out what you want to ask?” Anne said. He nodded. “I know what you did – both times,” she added.

Unable to meet her eye, Spike hung his head. She brought her hand up to his cheek and it felt something like touching water. Anne made him look at her. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I understand why you did it and I thank you for it.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, as the tears finally fell unchecked.

“Don’t be. I just knew you needed to know that I’m at peace now, William. Or is it Spike?” she said with a slight smile.

“I’ll always be William to you, Mother,” Spike said, wiping his eyes furiously.

“I know. And you know, I think perhaps that nice Buffy girl has seen it too.”

Spike smiled slightly through the tears. “You know about Buffy?”

“Oh, I peek,” Anne said in a matter-of-fact tone. “But never during a private moment. Or when you’re – I mean, when you were – feeding.”

“You must be so ashamed of me.”

“On the contrary, William. Despite everything, you never completely lost your humanity and when you found something good enough to fight for, you fought and fought. You’re a good man, and I couldn’t be prouder to call you my son.”

Spike couldn’t speak.

“I am sure that, sooner or later, you will be rewarded. And I have a feeling that it will involve Miss Summers.” Anne smiled warmly at Spike. “Don’t give up on her. She feels more for you than you think. Perhaps even more than she thinks. In time, you will both realise that.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Mum.”

“Oh, William. I hate to leave you, but …” Spike suddenly realised she was beginning to fade slowly.

“You have to go?”

She nodded. “I’m only allowed a short time here. But I only have one last thing to say.”

“What’s that?”

“I love you.” Anne placed a gentle kiss on Spike’s cheek. For a moment, he just closed his eyes and let the words sink in. Words he had needed badly to hear.

“Give – give my love to Dad, won’t you?” he whispered, opening his eyes again.

A strange look came over his mother’s face. “William …”

“What?”

“About your father …”

-----

Giles paced up and down the Magic Box. “I keep telling you, Buffy, we can’t keep him locked up forever. He could wake up any minute and once he does, we won’t be able to stop him from breaking free.”

“And we can’t keep tranquilising him,” Anya said.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Buffy said, a frown marring her features. “Ow.” She pressed a pack of ice to the gash on her forehead and leaned forward to get a better view of Willow, who was writing furiously into a notebook. “How’s that adaption coming?”

“It’s not.” Willow scrunched up a page of notes and flung them at the wall. “I just keep trying combinations and can’t come up with anything powerful enough.”

“You will,” Buffy assured her. “I have faith in you.”

“Don’t want to ask the dumb question,” Tara said, “but even if we manage to remove the Hellmouth from him, where exactly are we going to put it?”

It had been a circular argument, going round so many times Buffy was feeling dizzy. “I don’t know. We’re just going to have to find some way to destroy it. How many times do we have to go through this, people?”

The phone rang. Buffy picked it up.

“If it’s Spike, tell him we need him here,” Giles said. “Spell or no spell, the Seers said he needed to be here for a reason.”

“Buffy?”

It was Spike. Buffy thought quickly.

“Oh, hey, Dawn. How’s L.A.?”

There was a pause at the other end. “Er, Buffy? It’s Spike here.”

“I know. Give Xander and Angel both a kick from me.”

“You can’t talk?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh. Look, Buffy, I need your help.”

“With what?”

“My dad’s alive.”

How on earth did he know that? Buffy wondered. As if he could read her mind, he added, “I saw my mum – as a ghost, I mean. She told me my dad never died that night. He’s still out there somehow. I don’t know how and I don’t care. I just want to find him.”

“Well,” Buffy said slowly, “I’m sorry that you’re feeling homesick, Dawn, but you can’t come back yet. We’re still working out part of our plan of action and it’s best you’re not around.”

“Buffy, are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, Dawn, and I hear you loud and clear. There’s just nothing I can do to help at the moment. Why don’t you just try to relax and enjoy yourself a bit, you know, like a holiday.”

“All right, Buffy, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you’re hiding something from me. What is it?”

“I’ll be fine, Dawn, you’re fussing over nothing.”

At that moment, the receiver was plucked neatly out of her hand. “Giles!”

“Hello, Spike,” he said into it. “Now would be a good time for you to return because the Big Bad we have knocked out in the back room can only be beaten if you’re here. See you soon.” Giles hung up.

Buffy folded her arms and glared at him. “How did you know?”

“You said ‘Dawn’ too many times, it’s unnatural,” he said.

“You also had that look on your face,” Anya said.

“What look?”

“The one you’ve had on your face every time Spike’s name has been brought up recently.” The others all stared at her. “What, I’m the only one that noticed?”

“I think the more pertinent question is why were you trying to keep Spike away,” Giles said, glaring at his Slayer.

“Because, maybe I see that he’s more than just something to help us kill the bad guys,” Buffy shot back. “He has feelings too.”

Giles raised his eyebrows, Willow smiled, and Anya wolf-whistled. Buffy suddenly realised what she had said and how it must have sounded. “I didn’t – I mean -”

“Don’t worry, Buffy, we all know what you meant,” Anya said with a smirk on her face. “And about time too. Now, maybe we could get back to our plan of action?”

-----

For the first time, Spike hadn’t wanted to leave his home country. When he had been turned, he had just wanted to get away and make a fresh start to forget about his human life; but now, on his way back to Sunnydale, he wished he’d had some more time to spend there. But there was no way he was letting Buffy face this whatever-it-was alone, no matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise.

Plus, of course, once this particular Big Bad was dusted, she could help him find out what happened to his father. Right now, he would just take the attitude that he had been gone over a century – a couple more days couldn’t hurt.

Once in Sunnydale, Spike headed straight for the Magic Box. It was dark inside, and he paused, but jumped a moment later as there was a small explosion inside.

Spike kicked the door open and slammed on the lights. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”

Willow sat alone in the middle of the shop, surrounded by untidy stacks of books, candles and witchcraft ingredients, and choking on a cloud of black smoke. Spike threw the windows open and waved his arms to clear it. “Better, Red?”

“No.” She groaned and rested her head on the table. “This is useless. I’m never gonna save him.”

“What you tryin’ to do?”

Willow pushed one of the books towards him. “Some guy a century ago tried to close the English Hellmouth, but instead absorbed its power and he’s been dormant all this time. Now he’s awake and on the rampage because it’s controlling him rather than the other way around, and I’ve been trying to find a way to remove the power from him but I can’t and now we have to kill him!” She paused for a deep breath, only to start coughing on the remains of the smoke again. Spike banged her on the back. “Thanks.”

“This the guy that Giles said you lot had knocked out in the back room?”

“Yeah, he escaped. They’ve gone after him now. I’ve been trying to do spell after spell but they all just either go phut or blow up in my face or do nothing at all.”

“Probably because you don’t have any spell powerful enough.”

“Yeah, that’s what Giles said. I had to try, though. Even combined different spells together. Nothing’s working.”

“What about this one? Power transference -”

“Not strong enough. Plus there’s got to be a link -”

“What kind of link?”

Willow paused. “I don’t know. I guess the same kind for any spell, like a blood link, or magic link -”

“Blood link?”

“If you’re a relative, I guess it would work.”

“Do you have a name for this guy?”

Willow passed the correct book to him. “It’s there. I don’t see what good it would do, though, he lived like a hundred years ago.” She caught Spike’s eye. “Oh.”

“I don’t believe it,” Spike muttered, staring at the name on the page. “I don’ bloody believe it.”

“He’s not a relation of yours, is he? It would be a bit of a coincidence if he was -”

“Get that power transference spell, Red. We’re going on a field trip.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to make this spell work.”

“Spike,” Willow said, “if we did the spell, the Hellmouth would go into one of us. There’s always consequences to this kind of thing.”

He hesitated. But only for a second. “Sod consequences. I’m saving my father. Are you with me?”

TBC …