CHAPTER SEVEN
 
“This better mean straight ‘A’s in English for me the rest of the year, or I’m telling the counselor how traumatized I am now.”
 
They lurched apart and glared at her. “We’re adults. We don’t have to explain ourselves.”
 
“Didn’t ask for an explanation,” Joyce said. “I’m old enough to know what you’re doing. I’m just saying, I’m gonna tell….”
 
“Is there a reason why you’re here? In the living room? Where I’m entertaining a gentleman visitor?”
 
“You mean where you’re playing tonsil hockey with my English teacher?”
 
Something on Buffy’s face got through to Joyce’s sense of self preservation and she backed away.
 
“But, really, it’s none of my business. I just thought you’d want to know that the timer’s going off in the kitchen, and your laptop’s been beeping for the past ten minutes. I think it’s Aunt Willow.”
 
“Already? She said tomorrow morning.”
 
“Yeah. Here.” Joyce shoved the laptop into Buffy’s hands and waited.
 
“What?”
 
“I’m not going anywhere till you tell me what’s going on.”
 
Buffy gave a very audible growl,  “Fine. Go turn the oven off and take the chicken out.” Then she opened the laptop. “Hi Will. Sorry. I was in another room and—”
 
“Is that him?” Buffy realized that Bill was looking over her shoulder where Willow could see him.
 
“Yeah. That’s him. So that was pretty fast. What did you find out?”
 
Willow waved. “Hi Bill.”
 
“Hello, Willow. Nice to meet you.”
 
“Willow!”
 
“Oh right. Well here’s the thing. Nobody’s ever heard of anybody being reincarnated into a temporarily dead person. But then, they don’t how Spike got his soul back in the first place – like why didn’t it go to someone else when he died the first time? So maybe vampire souls just sort of … hang out…. somewhere unless they’re called by a curse, or a demon with fiery hands—”
 
“Fiery hands?” 
 
“I’ll explain later,” Buffy shushed him. “Go on, Willow.

“Okay. Nobody has ever heard of it, but they don’t know why it couldn’t happen if Bill was really dead long enough, at the right time. So, yeah. No real answer – other than Spike spent most of his time doing things other vampires can’t, won’t, don’t do, so nobody’s willing to say it couldn’t happen.”
 
“Well that was helpful – in a way that isn’t.”
 
“Sorry, guys. That’s all I got. But if you need me to show up there and see if I can get a reading…”
 
“I hate to ask you to do that, Willow.”
 
“Yes,” Bill said. “Whatever a ‘reading’ is, I don’t want you spending your time and money to do one for me.”
 
Willow laughed while Buffy smiled at him.
 
“Did I mention that Willow is an incredible powerful witch? With lots of skills?”
 
“Do I even want to know what—”
 
“Probably not.”
 
There was a loud ‘pop’ and suddenly Willow was standing only a few feet away from them. Bill’s face paled.
 
“I knew I didn’t want to know,” he muttered, almost to himself. With a visible effort, he pulled himself together enough to say, “The incomparable Willow, I presume?”
 
She waved. “That’s me. Sorry to do that to you, but I’ve got a little free time tonight and it seemed like we should just get it done now.”
 
He smiled weakly. “Sure. Why not. Uh… what are we doing exactly?”
 
“Well, you’re just going to stand there. Or you could sit if you want to. And I’m going to try to read your aura and see if it’s… yours. I might need to touch your hand, but I’ll warn you first.”
 
“Go for it, Red,” he said, sighing when both Buffy and Willow sucked in their breath.  “Did it again, didn’t I? Okay, do your thing. If there’s somebody else lurking in here, I may as well know about it now.”
 
Buffy stepped up beside him and took his hand. He startled, but gave her a grateful smile. They stood, fingers linked, while Willow closed her eyes and began breathing deeply. Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she gave a gasp, grabbing his free hand. Bill started to say something about having two beautiful women fighting over him, but never finished it, interrupted when Willow stepped closer and peered into his eyes intently. He stood, frozen in place, trapped by her gaze.
 
“Hey there, Spike. Long time no see,” she whispered. Beside her, Buffy gave a gasping sob and sank onto the couch.  Released from Willow’s stare, Bill sank down beside her.
 
“So, what are you saying? That I’m not me any more? That I’ve been somebody else since my accident? This isn’t my body or my life?” There was more than a little anger in his voice and Buffy began to realize that what would make her happy, wasn’t necessarily true for Bill.  She took back the hand she’d been reaching for him with and put it in her lap.
 
Willow shook her head and sat on the coffee table facing them. “It’s not quite that simple. Your own aura is there – and it’s quite strong. Don’t worry about that. You’re definitely you. But Spike’s aura is there too, just not as strong as yours. They’re mostly blended, I think, with yours being very much the dominant one. But when I looked into your eyes just now… I saw somebody very familiar. Just for a few seconds, and it was a little bit scary to be honest. I think Spike hasn’t so much taken over your body as he has been inserted … or his soul has… into it with you. Up till now, his influence has been fairly minor – changing your favorite brand of booze, looking for an outlet for more violence than you’re used to, nothing that would cause you to wonder what was going on.”
 
“But then I met Buffy.” He still hadn’t looked at her or tried to touch her since Willow finished, and Buffy leaned away from him a little more.
 
“And then you met Buffy.” She nodded her head. “She’s always been the most important thing in the world to Spike. If anything was going to make him more likely to try to assert himself, it would be knowing Buffy was here. The question for you is, how much of what you feel for her would have happened anyway, and how much is Spike’s soul pushing you toward her?”
 
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’ve got no fuckin’ idea,” he said. “Sorry, Joyce,” he amended when he heard her gasp. “But I’m sure you hear worse than that in school hallways every day.”
 
“Not from my teachers!” A glare from Buffy stopped her from elaborating and she curled up in an easy chair to watch the adults.
 
Bill had made eye contact with Willow again, still without looking at or speaking to Buffy, who continued to shrink away from him. “Maybe a bigger question is, how much of Buffy’s willingness to be with me is going to depend on her knowing the man she loves lives here?”
 
“I can’t answer that, Bill. Any more than I can answer the question about how much your attraction to her is something you would have done on your own, or if Spike is pushing you into it.”
 
“Of course, I’d be attracted to her! She’s bloody gorgeous… and oh God. I’ve never used that word before in my life….” He slumped back against the couch, realizing for the first time that Buffy had retreated to the other end and was huddled there in a miserable lump.
 
“I’m guessing the word in question isn’t ‘gorgeous’,” Willow said with a sigh.
 
“It is not.” He stood up. His expression was hard and his voice was flat. “How do we fix this?”
 
Willow gasped while Buffy moaned and curled up even tighter. When no one said anything, Joyce stood up and walked over to Bill.  “Are you… are you my… father?” Her eyes were mirrors of his own, but hers swam with unshed tears.
 
“Shit!” He shut his eyes again and turned away. Joyce turned to Willow.
 
“Aunt Willow?  Is he my father?”
 
“No sweetheart. He’s not your father. But it looks like Spike’s soul went into his body when he was technically dead for a few minutes. Since he didn’t die, when he revived, they both ended up in there. He’s been living his life since then with your father’s soul sharing space with his.”
 
“What does that mean?” Joyce’s gaze went back and forth between them. “And what’s wrong with Mom?”
 
Bill turned to look at Buffy, seeing for the first time that her shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.  “Christ, I’m an idiot,” he said, going to his knees beside her and reaching for her with a tentative hand that hovered just over her quivering shoulders.  “Buffy… I’m sorry. I know you wanted this, but if we’re going to have anything… anything worth having, we have to know who we… who we’re falling in love with. Both of us.”
 
There was no sign from Buffy, but her shoulders stilled and she appeared to be listening.  He sat on the floor, turning his back against the couch, but obviously speaking only to her.
 
“I don’t doubt for one second that I’d have found you desirable no matter what. Or that I could fall in love with you someday. You’re beautiful, you’re interesting, and you know how to have fun. It might take me a while to get used to the idea that you’re stronger than me, but I could deal with it.” He paused and sighed. “But I don’t fall in love overnight. Ever. And to do it with somebody I just met and haven’t even—” He suddenly remembered Joyce’s presence. “Someone I’ve barely even kissed. That’s not me. That’s the man who’s sharing my body. He loves you.”
 
He sighed again and turned his head far enough to see where she was. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “That’s me, not him,” he said, in reply to her small gasp. “It’s me apologizing for sounding so pissed off about finding out that what I was trying to convince you was true, actually is. I was a selfish jerk not to realize that it sounded like I didn’t want you. I do. But I need to know that you want me… Bill Patterson. Not some vampire spirit that’s sharing my space.”
 
“Bill,” Willow interrupted gently. “If I hadn’t told you I could see Spike, would you have felt so violated? Have you been unhappy or felt weird all this time? Has having Spike’s soul been a problem for you?”
 
He glared at her, then shook his head. “Point taken. I just hate the idea that I’m falling for someone who might be in love with somebody who isn’t me.”
 
“He is you. Not as much you as who you remember being when you were growing up, but the one you’ve been for the past eighteen years.  If you can think of him as just a part of you, not somebody to fight with or try to evict….”
 
“I don’t want Buffy to be with me because she thinks I’m Spike,” he said, holding tightly to her hand when she tried to pull it away. “I’m not him. I can’t ever be him.”
 
Buffy took a deep shuddering breath and pulled her hand away as she sat up.
 
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I was just so… and then you wanted to ‘fix it’….” She shuddered. “I’m not being fair. You’ve got every right to want a woman who loves you for you, not because….” Her voice trailed off and tears welled up again, but she swiped them away. “I’m stronger than this. I’m sorry,” she repeated.
 
“Nothing to be sorry for, love,” he said, turning to face her and getting to his knees again so they were at the same level. “You heard news that made you happy, and I carried on as if it was the worst thing ever. I’m sorry for being such an unthinking asshole.”
 
“So, what are we going to?”
 
“How about have dinner?” Joyce said, her cheery tone belied by the anxiety on her face. “Aunt Willow, do you want to join us? I can set another place…”
 
“Thank you, sweetie, but I had my dinner hours ago. If there’s nothing else for me to do here, I should get home and go to bed.”  Willow turned to look at Bill and Buffy, now on their feet and standing just close enough together to be touching. “I’m going to go back, and tomorrow I’ll talk some more with the experts and see if there’s anything else we need to know. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful than that. I think it’s up to you two from here.”
 
Buffy walked up to Willow and hugged her hard. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for doing this.”
 
“Aw, Buffy. How could I not?  I’ll come back soon. Maybe before the holidays….”
 
Bill shook Willow’s hand. “I’m sorry I reacted so poorly. Pretty stupid on my part, especially since it was my idea in the first place. I guess it’s one thing to believe in reincarnation intellectually, and another thing to realize that you’ve been sharing your body with somebody else.”
 
“Perfectly understandable,” Willow said. “It certainly isn’t a normal reincarnation where the old soul becomes part of a newborn baby and is the only soul in there. Who knows what happened? Maybe the soul was sent to you because you died, and there was no way to take it back when you were resuscitated so quickly that your own soul was still there. I don’t know. But I’m going to research it. Tomorrow. Now I’m going home to get some sleep.” With a wave, she vanished from the living room, leaving Buffy, Joyce, and Bill staring at each other.
 
“Chicken dinner, anybody?” Buffy asked as she went toward the kitchen. “Joyce, if you’ll finish the table, I’ll make a salad and cut some bread.”