Disclaimer: Joss is god, all hail his wonderfulness.

Author’s note: *huggles* to BTL for the great betaing.
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Chapter 33: To Regret or Not?

“Oh D’Hoffryn!” exclaimed Buffy when she realised what she had just done.

Drusilla was human again. Spike had made a wish. She didn’t know which was more baffling.

The former vampire was huddled on the ground, weeping at Spike’s feet.

“You’re not my responsibility anymore Dru,” he said backing away from her.

“I take it back!” Dru screamed as she cradled her head. “I’m sorry! So sorry!”

“Maybe Angelus will have something to do with you now,” grimaced Spike taking another step away from her. He looked up at his mate, no smile, no light in his eyes. “Take her to Angelus, Erixel. She’s his problem now.”

Buffy nodded, stepping forward and taking Dru’s hand as she cried, forcing her to stand up.

“See you at home?” Buffy asked.

His use of her vengeance demon name had chilled her to the bone. She tried smiling back at him, hoping that this wish hadn’t broken the goods thing that had finally achieved together.

“Eventually,” he answered as he left the hotel.
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Buffy tugged the crying Drusilla through a portal and into the lobby of Angelus’ hotel in LA.

“Who the hell are you?” asked a tall African American man. “And is that Drusilla?”

“Where’s Angelus?” Buffy asked.

“Don’t know.”

“Right, well I’ll just go find him. You don’t mind looking after the weeping nun do you? She’s human, she won’t hurt you, if you are wondering.” Buffy pushed Dru into his arms and disappeared in a puff of smoke, ending up at the bottom of some body of water.

Buffy opened her mouth to curse her luck, instead filling it with water. She rolled her eyes before taking the time to see why Angelus was stuck at the bottom of whatever lake or sea they were right now.

It was amusing to see Angelus stuck in a watery grave, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to get out.

She would have laughed, except lacked the oxygen to make the sound. With a slump of her shoulders Buffy shook her head sadly and teleported into the crate with the vampire that tried to kill her for so many years. She materialised on top of him, no room to spare, then opened a portal causing Angelus, herself and a torrent of water to come splashing down on her bedroom floor.

Buffy rolled off of his body and sat up. The two demons started coughing loudly to expel the water from their lungs.

“Just what the hell were you doing down there?” coughed Buffy.

“Take too long to explain, I need to be somewhere,” explained Angelus.

“No, you need to be at your hotel. Drusilla’s human and needs someone to take care of her,” stated Buffy.

“What? When? How?” stammered the former scourge of Europe.

“Um, well it wasn’t a genie who granted that wish. How do you think Angelus?” asked Buffy standing over the prostrate vampire with her hands on her hips.

“Vengeance wish,” he muttered.

“Right. I don’t care if you have a hot date or some critical brooding to do, but you are going back to your hotel and take care of her. No turning her back into a vampire. ‘Cause that would suck.”

Angelus nodded even as Buffy grabbed his hand and pushed him through another portal. Angelus gone from her lair, she looked at the mess the water had created in her room and of her clothes.

“Great, just great,” she muttered to herself before heading to her closet for new clothes.
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Buffy arrived home to her New York apartment to find that Spike hadn’t come home yet. She hadn’t really expected him to. The night still had hours to go, and no doubt he was drinking in some bar to dull the pain of what he had done.

The first wish he’d actually wished out loud and in front of her on purpose was about Drusilla. Not for himself, not for her, but Drusilla. She didn’t know how to feel about it, but she hoped that this wish didn’t come back to haunt her. As a human, Drusilla was still out there and free to do what she wanted in life. Buffy just hoped that the soul and what she had done to Spike would keep her far far away from Erixel’s mate.

When Spike still hadn’t come home by the second night, Buffy got worried. She could tell that he was in pain, emotionally, from their bond and that he was liberally applying his favourite cure all...alcohol.

Finally as the dawn approached on the third night, Buffy couldn’t stand it anymore. She wanted him with her and from what she could feel he wasn’t progressing in his grief. She leapt off their bed and found herself her patent leather doc martins, her plaid skirt and her Sex Pistols concert tee in her closet. It was time to remind Spike just who was in charge here.
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Buffy appeared in a puff of smoke into the bar Spike frequented of late. It was a demon bar, not the sort that cared if there was the occasional brawl; there were no spells or enchantments on this place making the patrons unable to cause mayhem.

Most of the patrons didn’t bat an eye at her appearance, but she heard the whispering as she stepped further in to the bar. She had quite the reputation. There was even a few that left the bar in quite the rush as she passed them. She didn’t care. Her gaze was focused on the bleach blond vampire at the bar, who was staring into his whiskey like it held the meaning of life. She slid onto the stool beside him, and motioned for the bartender. She placed a few bills on the bar. “He gets one more drink,” she started motioning to the vampire beside her. “And I’d like an Amaretto Sour please, with a cherry,” she said in a perky voice.

“What are you doing here, Cecily?” said Spike, not making eye contact with her.

The bartender put her drink in front of her and smiled. Immediately Buffy started playing with the cherry.

“I’m here because you didn’t come home,” she began. “I was worried about you. She’s not dead. I’m not dead. Everything is fine and dandy.”

“It’s not though.”

“Please! William! I met the ‘Brooding Wonder’ two days ago, I don’t need you to give him a run for his money. Please, just tell me what is wrong.”

“I could have killed her,” Spike admitted quietly.

“But you didn’t. She’s all humany, beating heart, almost new soul and everything.”

“It feels like I did. I can’t feel her. She’s been there, you know, in my brain, since she turned me, whispering away that I’m hers, belong to her, made by her. And she’s gone now. Don’t feel a bloody thing. It’s like I cut off a part of me and tossed it out the window. My sire’s gone, Cecily. I’m the last one.”

“No, you aren’t the last one, William. You might be the last Aurelian vampire, but you’ve still got Dawn and Liz and Hank, wherever he is. And... you’ve got me,” Buffy whispered, feeling slightly insecure at the moment.

“Don’t make it feel different though.”

“It doesn’t make it feel different?” asked Buffy her voice sounding angry. She had to remember that he was grieving.

“That’s not what I meant,” he added. His gaze on his empty glass of whiskey held only a moment longer.

“Explain it then,” continued Buffy.

Spike looked up as he felt his mate‘s emotions through their connection. He wasn‘t explaining it right. He reached out and brushed her cheek. “It‘s just...she was my sire, yeah? And now she‘s gone. There‘s a hole where she use to be and no one can fill it up again. You aren’t my sire, that’s how it’s different.”

“But...I want to fill the hole,“ she whispered, her anger gone. “I just want you to love me like I’ve loved you all these years. I thought it meant something when you claimed me. I thought I meant something to you.”

“You do,” he said turning towards her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears capturing her own in his gaze. “I love you,” he said tenderly. “I love you. But being connected with Dru meant that I was part of something bigger, something permanent. Like I had a family of my own. We two are just... two. Christopher and Noël are gone. Even before the fact of Liz and Dawn happened. I’ve lost that now. Don’t know if I’ll ever get that feeling back.”

“You will!“ she cried happily. “I know you will. We will! And you never know...you could make yourself a child if you wanted someday... with or without the e on the end.”

Spike turned to look at his mate with wide eyes.

“We didn’t...without the...you aren’t...again?”

“D’Hoffryn no!” exclaimed Buffy. “Do you really think I’d put myself and you though another ordeal like that? Not until the Immortal is dead and buried and I’ve lit his grave on fire.”

“And some demons wonder how a nice little girl like you got to be a vengeance demon,” he noted with a smirk.

“Ya it’s completely baffling. Are you ready to come home yet? I got all prettied up for you and I wanna play,” she purred.

No response to that sentence came, but Spike scooped her up off the bar stool and carried her fireman style out the entrance.

She giggled happily as they travelled. Buffy didn’t know where they were or what he had in mind but she was happy to go along with it all the same.

They stopped in a subway station and Spike brought her down from his shoulder.

“Here.”

“This where you...” she started.

“No, killed her in the subway car,” he said plainly. “Got out here. It was supposed to be a rush, thrill. The high didn’t last like it had with the one in China. So I sought out another. Died before I could get to her, and the next one, and the next one. Then there was Liz.

Buffy nodded in understanding.

“I wanted her to be proud of me, you know. I didn’t start seeking out the Slayer cause I could. It was the one thing that Angelus hadn’t done. He couldn’t kill you,” he said tenderly. “But I could kill slayers better than he could. “I just wanted her to be proud of me,” Spike added with a small smile and there was no doubt in Buffy’s mind that he was talking about Dru. If this was what he needed to get over her, then she would help him.

Buffy reached out and touched his face gently. “I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

“So where to next? You’re in charge of this little tour...”

His eyes poured into hers and she instantly knew that this was going to be a trip down memory lane.

Taking his hand she opened portals that sent them to Germany, outside what once had been the warehouse he’d been imprisoned in.

“Whatever happened to Morgan, luv?” he asked cooly.

“Married a girl that suspiciously looked like Anya, had babies and died in his bed in 1987,” answered Buffy.

Spike laughed at that. “Knew you never gave it up to him.”

“Hey! I’m not proud of pining after you forever. But no, didn’t ever do anything more than kiss with Morgan.”

“You kissed him!” he raged jealously.

“It was for a mission, and yes, I did!” she noted gleefully. “And it was good too!”

Giggling at the irate vamp, she grabbed his hand. “Next!”

Two portals more and they stood in that Buddhist temple that held so many memories for the both of them.

Spike peered sideways at her. “Just how did you know this was the place?” he asked.

Buffy dropped his hand and moved away from him. “’Cause I was here?” she mumbled. “I saw you kill her. I saw what happened after too, before I finally willed myself to move away.”

“Buffy...” he whispered softly, reaching out to her.

She folded her arms across her chest and stared at the floor. “No. Don’t try to make up for it now. It happened a hundred years ago. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What were you doing in China, love? There was a rebellion on.”

“I started it. Moving on!” He voice held no room for argument and wisely Spike dropped the topic.

A few steps through portals and they were looking at the closet in Venice where she had told him that she was pregnant with his child.

“Think you missed one stop love,” he patronised.

“That stop’s painful, don’t want to go there twice.”

It was his turn to be the understanding one.

“Wonder if we could get Anya set up with Angelus...” pondered Buffy trying to avoid the subject they were skirting by. “Though he seemed to have his hands full when I... No more talking from me. Spike fill the silence.”

“That horn case we did it against? It was right painful,” he supplied.

“You remember what instrument case we had sex against?” she questioned.

“It was memorable!” Spike defended. “Not everyday the Slayer turned vengeance demon tells you, a vampire, that the Bit’s yours instead of the bloody Immortal’s.”

Buffy smiled sweetly. “I think I’d promised you that you’d get invited to the next party that Anyanka planned. I don’t think I followed through on that one.”

“I was invited to her wedding. That was on my own merit,” he added. “You wanna...” he leered suggestively.

“No, it loses something without Anyanka and Angelus shagging beside us,” she laughed grabbing his hand and leading him through another set of portals to their next destination.

The pair of demons looked around the gutted space and frowned.

“Reagan’s apartment?” asked Spike.

“They must be renovating,” observed Buffy. “This is disappointing.”

“Wonder what happened to her kin though. Are they still watchers?” asked Spike.

“Probably, it kinda runs in the family. They didn’t want anything to do with me either,” Buffy observed bitterly.

“Give Liz time, I’m sure she’ll come ‘round.”

“Right,” Buffy responded cynically.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, catching her chin with his fingers and thumb. “No talking like that.” He planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Where to next love?”

“The Council?” she offered sweetly.

At his look of terror she laughed.

“Even I’m not that stupid.”

Two portal jumps later and they were standing in front of the place she had avoided for such a long time. Before her stood the family plot the gravestones of her mother, sister, father, son, daughter-in-law, grandson, granddaughter-in-law, great-granddaughter and Annette all stared back at her.

“I wish they were all buried here,” she whispered. “Henry and Isabella, who knows where they are buried.”

“Dawn could probably find out for you,” Spike responded clasping her hand gently. “Christopher would be happy you found Liz and Dawn.”

“And then he’d be all worried about drawing the Immortal to them. It’s why he never told us that Henry and Isabella had gone to America,” she countered. “Can we stay here?” she asked. “For a while? To be with them?”

Spike nodded slowly. He knew that she hadn’t been here since Noël died. It was time to be together with their family.

Buffy let go of Spike’s hand and crouched down towards Christopher’s grave. With her hand extended she brushed her fingers against he engraved marks noting that Christopher William Fairchilde was buried here.

“Hey Christopher,” she started sadly. “Look who’s finally together. I know I haven’t been to visit in a while.”

Spike looked on sadly as she began to tell their son all of the things that had happened in the 40 or so years since she’d been back here. Behind him stood the Underwood family house, boarded up and unused, unlived in since Annette was taken. It was time old memories were uncovered. She’d proved that with this little journey.

It might have been to distract him from the pain of Dru’s loss or she might have had an ulterior motive, but it worked, whatever her purpose.

Looking down at his mate, who was still speaking in soft tones to the son she’d outlived, Spike finally realised that while Dru was gone, Buffy had always been there. And he wasn’t giving her up ever again.
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tbc...