Title: Resurrection

Author: Gillian Silverlight and RoseRed (Susan tossed out an idea that meshed with mine and graciously allowed me to use it and run with this. This fiction was started almost immediately after the series end of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Real Life simply required a hiatus during the writing.)

Distribution: My site, those that already have permission to post my fic, all others please ask. (If you post my fic. Please do not rearrange the sentence groupings. It can alter the flow of the story. Thanks.)

Disclaimer: They belong to Joss and the WB, UPN, FX; just about everybody except me. I just play with them.

Summary: Angel finds the amulet but is it the source of his disturbing dreams? Is it still active or simply dangerous?

Rating: NC-17

Lyrics: ‘Angel’, ‘Prayer Of St. Francis’, ‘Full Of Grace’, ‘I Will Remember You’, ‘Silence’, ‘Into The Fires’, ‘Fear’ By Sarah McLachlan; ‘Impossible’ By Rogers and Hammerstein

Resurrection

‘Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance’

Buffy stared out the bus window as they drove down the dark road.

It was close to midnight, yet sleep was never farther away for her. She kept remembering the feel of a cool, lean body next to her, wrapped around her… And in the few moments when she didn’t think of that, she remembered the sight of their clasped hands, engulfed in flames, Spike filled with light. Of all times to realize how she felt about the blonde vampire that had been a part of her life… and death, for several years, it had to be then; just as she was about to lose him, just as he sacrificed himself to save her, to save the world.

A single tear trailed silently down her face as the darkened miles rolled past…

~*~

‘for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay’

Angel sat alone in the garden listening to the tinkle of the fountain as he stared out into the night, watching nothing, seeking answers that weren’t forthcoming.

He’d spent more nights like this than sleeping over the last month.

Buffy had sent him away for that ‘second front’ and then he’d not heard a word from her. He knew Sunnydale was nothing more than a huge crater. The news media made sure of that with the seemingly unending stream of reports that covered the event, yet added no real news. Cordelia was still in her coma. Angel had used the resources now available to him from Wolfram and Hart, or WH, as they’d come to think of it, to hire the best nurses possible to care for the brunette. They’d all searched for answers to both problems and even the slightest hope of an answer feeling as though it was poised just beyond them, waiting for them to find it in its hidden book; yet that same information still eluded them.

Standing abruptly, Angel finally reached his breaking point. The sheer frustration would kill him figuratively, had he not already literally been dead, a vampire for some two hundred and-fifty years.

Grabbing a couple of items from his desk, he scribbled a note, leaving it where Wesley couldn’t help but find it, then headed for his car and the remains of Sunnydale.

Angel had no idea what, if anything, he might find, but he was going to look. Any action being better than continuing to sit.

~*~

‘there's always one reason
to feel not good enough’

“Hey, B?”

Buffy remained facing the window of the small room, staring into the darkness, not wanting Faith to see the tears on her face.

“Yeah, Faith?”

Moments later, the other Slayer’s hand grasped Buffy’s shoulder, turning her deliberately, insistently enough that Buffy would have had to struggle or force Faith to do so. Buffy allowed herself to be turned to face the brunette, knowing Faith would see the shiny tracks of moisture from the tears.

“B… I don’t have anything to tell you that will bring him back. But you had time with him… You still have that no matter what, ya know?”

“You don’t understand, Faith.” Buffy sighed. “Actually that’s part of the problem.”

“So talk, girl. Me… you know I’ve never been good with the guys. Always stayed safe with the four ‘F’ rule. Find’em, fuck’em, fool’em and forget’em… But I can listen, Buffy. I’m here. All the times you tried to be there for me and I wouldn’t let ya… Le’me be here for you. Promise to keep my trap shut too!” Faith held up two fingers in a girl-scout type salute as she promised Buffy silence.

“Yeah… I just don’t know where to begin, Faith. It seems like in one way other another; Spike has always been there. I know he wasn’t really. Maybe ‘cause he was such a pain in the ass at first, it just seemed that way. But later…”

Buffy slumped into the chair next to the window of the motel where they’d stopped for the night.

Faith plopped down on the foot of the bed, legs crossed as she watched the blonde slayer.

Buffy looked so sad at times that it actually made Faith’s heart ache for her.

Buffy turned her head slightly to stare out the window again as she haltingly tried to explain what seemed like a lifetime yet only seconds with Spike.

~*~

‘and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction’

Angel stopped the car safely away from where the pavement became the crater that had been Sunnydale and walked to the edge, staring down into the vast hole.

The moon was full overhead and now there were no city lights to distract from that glittering moonlight or to obscure the stars. With his excellent night vision, one of the few perks of being a vampire, the rubble in the crater was quite visible.

Scattered here and there lay small sections of what had once been brick buildings. Branches protruded from the ground like clutching wooden fingers reaching for the dark dome of the sky.

Moving carefully, Angel ventured out onto the debris, staying close to the edge and the minimal safety it offered should the stuff start to crumble beneath him.

Angel walked a bit further into the crater noticing, but paying little attention to, more recognizable clumps of debris. Finally, the dark-haired vampire stopped. He had no idea why he was drawn here, tramping around in Sunnydale’s desolate remains, but he sighed as he accepted that there were no answers to be found.

Angel started back up the side of the hole, stopping once to look back over the place that had once held so many of his memories, both good and bad. Even the mansion was gone, he told himself.

A slender cloud scuttled quickly across the face of the moon and, at its passage, some angle of the light glinted off of something down toward the center of the destruction.

Angel turned, heading back into the grime as he focused on the flash of light he’d seen, feeling that more than simply chance had brought him there, attracted his attention to the object. He had to move carefully to keep the rubble from falling in on his shoes, but finally located the thing that had caught his attention. Reaching into the gritty dirt, Angel snagged the end of a chain and lifting it, he pulled forth the amulet he’d given to Buffy. He was shocked to discover it, intact and lying uppermost in the midst of the destruction that surrounded him. He didn’t think Buffy had worn the object, so she must have given it to Spike, Angel mused.

Without warning, the ground around him began to shift at an alarming rate. Angel tucked the object into his pocket and, as quickly as he thought safe; he climbed out of the huge crater. It was only when he finally reached the safety of his car, that he took the amulet out of his pocket again, wiping the filth from it as he looked at it and remembered…

~A month earlier~

‘oh beautiful release

memory seeps from my veins’

Feeling somewhat frustrated by his recent visit to Sunnydale and his conversation with Buffy, Angel sat in a chair looking out through the protective glass while he waited for the others to arrive in his ‘office’. Oh, it was definitely an office. It just didn’t feel like his and reminded him all too much of Lindsey McDonald, which promptly made him wonder what the man was doing these days. Shaking his head, Angel heard the soft tap on his door.

As he called for whoever it was to enter, Wesley swung the door open, followed by Fred and Gunn.

“You wanted to see us, Angel?”

“Yeah. Come on in and shut the door. Let me tell you what’s happening in Sunnydale.”

Angel was explaining most of his visit to the small town and Buffy, when none other than Lilah flung the door open. She’d stepped in the room with a smile on her dead face, but that smile faltered and then faded completely as she saw Angel sitting there.

“But you… I thought you were taking the amulet to the Slayer and her friends?”

“I did.”

“But… you’re here, Angel.”

“Nice that you noticed that, Lilah. Is there a problem?”

Angel detected uneasiness under the façade of her pleasant expression.

“N-no. Nothing at all. I was just going to check your calendar for you, make sure it was clear while you handled the apocalypse there. Just being a good secretary to the boss, you know.”

Lilah had been slowly backing toward the door of the office during her little speech, but stopped short as she bumped into someone. Turning to look, she wondered how Wesley had managed to get behind her without her noticing and knew she’d been paying entirely too much attention to a very live, or rather, undead, Angel.

“In a hurry, Lilah? Whatever for?” Wesley just looked at her, knowing that there was much more to whatever she was not telling them.

“Everything seems to be under control, Wes. I thought I’d make myself useful elsewhere.”

“Angel might even believe that, Lilah, but then you and I know one another much too well for you to think I’d be fooled quite so easily.” Wesley reached up, grasping the back of her neck in his hand.

“Perhaps you should tell us the problem, dear. Else I might need to remove your pretty head again in hopes that the Senior Partners will eventually grow tired of reattaching it.”

Lilah could tell from the slight tension in Wesley’s voice that he meant every word he said. And he was right. Sooner or later the Partners would stop reattaching her head. She wasn’t really ready for that failure.

“Alright. Angel was supposed to have worn the amulet. They didn’t tell me exactly what it would do but there was something about either trapping him or killing him. I didn’t really understand the whole theory.”

“Theory? Then they had no idea what it would do either?”

“Not really. Just a few ideas… Can I have my neck back now, please?”

“Not just yet, Lilah.” Angel had stepped up beside the deceased lawyer. “So I was supposed to wear that thing and get trapped in it or somewhere or get killed by it? What if Buffy had worn it?”

“Well, since she’s a Slayer, it probably wouldn’t have worked for her. She’s more than human, and a champion, but not the right person to wear it.”

“Do you know that for a fact, or is that just another theory?” Wesley tightened his grip ever so slightly as he asked.

“Oww! It was another theory! Turn loose! That hurts!”

“You’ve never objected to a bit of pain before, why start now?”

“Wes… too much information.” Angel grimaced at the sudden picture he couldn’t keep out of his head. Part of his mind was busy with the information Lilah had just unintentionally given him. Even though Buffy couldn’t wear the amulet, it had to be someone more than human. Angel remembered that Spike’s scent had clung to Buffy like an exotic perfume and logic helped him make the correct leap; Spike had worn the amulet.

“Sorry.” Wesley’s terse apology was perfunctory and they all knew it.

“Lilah, I’m waiting…” Angel warned her.

“Okay, okay! The Senior Partners didn’t really know what the amulet would do but they didn’t really care. All they knew was that when you wore it, it would either kill you or ensnare you. Either way it would get you out of Wolfram and Hart, leaving just the others here and giving the Partners control of the firm again. You stopped world peace when you stopped Jasmine, and would help stop the First Evil, leaving things open for the Partners to finally get the upper hand.”

“See, wasn’t that so much easier? Now, I think Wes can manage to hang on to you until we find out some more answers.” Angel looked over Lilah’s shoulder at Wesley’s grim face. “You’ve had some experience in keeping prisoners, right Wes?”

“Yes. I can handle that. The arrangements won’t take but a few minutes.” The ex-watcher’s face was solemn.

“Good. Take care of it and we’ll wait for you before we finish our meeting.”

Angel smiled and turned back to his chair as Wesley guided Lilah from the office.

~*~

‘let me be empty’

Angel gazed at the not-quite-so dirty amulet he held, wondering if it had killed Spike or trapped him. If the blonde vampire was trapped, where was he and how could they ever find him? Then again, if Spike was Angel’s rival for Buffy’s affections, did the dark-haired vampire even want to find him?

~*~

‘memory seeps from my veins

let me be empty

and weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight’

Faith held Buffy awkwardly as the smaller blonde cried.

Buffy had spent the last couple of hours trying to tell Faith about her relationship with Spike.

‘Damn! I knew I was rough on the guys, but B’s got me beat on this one. He hung in there though… Gotta give that vamp some credit - Or maybe she just beat all his brains out ‘fore she screwed’em out! No wonder she feels crappy about it!‘

“B. B! Buffy! Listen to me, girl.”

Faith shook the crying Slayer slightly to get her attention.

“Pretty shitty situation, yeah. But you knew how you felt before the last. And he knew it too. You’re not me. You don’t ask a guy to sleep with you, even just to hold you if he doesn’t mean something to you. I know that much. And Spike… He knew you a whole lot better. He knew, B. He knew and he loved you. Yeah, I tried to get to know’im… Hell, even if you hadn’t showed up, he wouldn’t have played. He was all yours. Plain as day, ya know?”

“I – I k-know.” Buffy pulled away, struggling to wipe her face with her sleeve. “I just wish…”

“Hey! Wishes and horses and all that crap, B. You loved each other and knew it. Maybe it wasn’t all flowers and hearts… and that can have such a different meaning with a vampire, I bet. Anyway, you had some good there. Hang on to that. Now get some sleep. Hug your pillow or some crap like that, you know. Talk to him while you sleep. It’ll be okay.”

Faith stood stiffly. “Gotta get some sleep too or I’m gonna fall out. Night.”

She stopped at the door to look back at Buffy. “Thanks for trusting me enough to talk to me. Means…”

“Yeah. I know, Faith. You for listening too.” Buffy felt a slight sense of relief, having finally been able to tell someone, but it was slight in the vast emptiness that seemed to fill her.

Faith closed the door quietly behind her as Buffy lay down on the musty smelling hotel bed, pulling the spare pillow to her chest, hugging it tightly, all the while praying for sleep to overtake her.

‘fly away from here

from this dark cold hotel room

and the endlessness that you fear

you are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie’

Buffy drifted into a fitful sleep and in the confusing dreams that churned through her mind, she talked to Spike. He was somewhere dark that glittered, lost and alone until she appeared to tell him how much she missed him and loved him.

~*~

‘you are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie’

Angel arrived at the hotel shortly before dawn caught up with him.

Hurrying inside ahead of the light of day, Angel sought the kitchen and a large mug of breakfast. He was sipping the last of it when Wesley entered the kitchen, heading for the coffee maker.

“See you’re back. Find anything useful there?”

“I don’t know about useful or not, but oddly enough, I found the amulet in all that mess. It was down toward the center of that crater. A stray bit of moonlight hit it and caught my attention.”

“So you retrieved it? Brought it back? I’d like very much to do some tests on it to see if we might learn anything about it.”

“I think we should too, but I don’t want to do anything that might harm it, or activate it either. I’ve got a… I don’t know, just a feeling…. We have no idea what it really does and if Buffy did have Spike wear it, then we have no idea if he’s just dust or if he’s stuck somewhere else. This thing might be a key to get him back if that’s the case.” Angel dangled the amulet in front of him as he and Wesley both stared at it. “Or it could simply be really gaudy jewelry.”

As the bauble swung slightly on the end of its chain, Angel wondered again if he really wanted to find Spike.

“We might actually have some unexpected help on that, it seems.”

Angel raised an eyebrow, asking Wesley to explain. “While you were gone, we had a very surprising visitor to WH. I took the liberty of bringing him back here for the night, as he had nowhere else to actually stay. Plus it let us keep our hands on him, so to speak.”

“He? Who?”

“Mr. McDonald.”

“Lindsey? Lindsey’s here? Under this roof?” Angel wasn’t sure if he should be angry, upset or glad about this particular new twist.

“More like here in the kitchen with you, Angel. Long time no see.” Lindsey walked past the two men to pull a cup from the cabinet for some coffee. “The cops loved the sign, by the way. Several of them had a great time telling me all about it… Nice touch there. And now you get to be the new boss at Wolfram and Hart. Never thought to see you sleeping with the enemy.”

“Wesley was the one in bed with the enemy. I don’t know if he was doing any sleeping.” Angel managed to sound a bit smug, knowing that at one time, Lindsey and Lilah had found each other to be… convenient.

Lindsey looked over at Wesley, the Englishman’s expression daring the young lawyer to say anything. Lindsey smiled and took the dare, looking once again toward Angel. “Well, knowing Lilah… I assume it was Lilah? He probably didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

“Yes, it was Lilah and the rest is no one’s business.” Wesley knew that Lilah had an… extensive past. But to have part of that past show up and toss out comments…

Angel suppressed a grin as Lindsey shrugged his shoulders and sat down at the table, coffee cup in front of him.

“Hey… Just saying, is all. So how’d you guys get Wolfram and Hart?”

“Long story. But first how about explaining what you’re doing here?”

Angel may have worked with the lawyer once or twice, but was always suspicious of the man. Lindsey having been in love or something, with Darla; and his and Angel’s subsequent battles regarding the resurrected, revamped, petite blonde, hadn’t helped matters.

“I heard about the change of ownership through the grapevine. Thought I’d come check out the truth for myself. Also, from what I hear, you folks may have a problem or two that I might be able to shed a bit of light on.”

“Alright. Let’s get a few things settled first. Like some rules, if you’re gonna be working with us at all. Okay?” Angel asked pointedly. At Lindsey’s nod of assent, the vampire and ex-watcher pieced together the events of the recent months for the attorney’s benefit.

~*~

‘I need some distraction

oh beautiful release

memory seeps from my veins

let me be empty

and weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an angel

fly away from here’

He concentrated again on the nebulous stuff around him in the glittering half-light, his thoughts giving the mist shape and form.

Minutes later, he sank to the ground, exhausted beyond belief, but happy to finally have somewhere he recognized.

Still a bit shaky, Spike eventually stood, and walked up the stairs, through the front door of Buffy’s house. He just wished that he could mold her out of the mist as well.

~*~

“Buffy? Is – is there anything I can do? You’ve been so sad.” Willow plopped down next to her friend where she sat on the bench behind the small diner.

“Thanks, Will. Not really, but I appreciate the thought.”

“Is it Spike?”

“It’s everything. Home is gone. We’re out here wandering from place to place finding these girls and sending them to Giles and Dawn and Xander… and what’s with Andrew being with that group? I’m tired and miss my own house. And Spike.”

The last admission was barely a whisper as Buffy turned away from her friend.

Willow had talked to Kennedy the night before about how to approach Buffy. They’d even tried to talk to Faith this morning, knowing the brunette Slayer had spent several hours talking with Buffy, but Faith didn’t have a word to tell them, or wouldn’t.

Taking a deep breath to gather her courage, Willow just jumped into the subject.
”I know that we weren’t in favor of Spike and you being together, Buffy. But I’ve thought about it… a lot! We all had trouble seeing past who he used to be. All of us, except you. And knowing what we know now about how the slayers were created, well, it makes sense to me that you, actually all the slayers, I’d guess… would be attracted to vampires. Then there was the whole Angel thing. You know, your first love is supposed to make a big impression and all. I know I told Kennedy that if I met another musical werewolf, she just might be in trouble.” Willow waited for a moment, hoping Buffy would get the joke. When the blonde simply nodded in agreement, the redhead continued. “The point is that you were right about Spike, Buffy. We were wrong. You can’t let your friends choose who you love.”

“Now you tell me that.”

“I know. I tried to understand when you and Angel broke up, and when you had to kill him and all. But it wasn’t until I lost Tara and knew what it was really like that I finally understood what it was like to know that you’d never be able to see them again. I can understand now how you’re feeling. You loved him and he’s gone. It feels terrible, Buffy, but it does get better. You’re the one that told me that. It takes time, but it will. I mean, look at the good side. At least you haven’t gone all “grrr” and tried to end the world!”

That particular comment pulled a slight smile out of Buffy.

“Yeah, no world end-age for me. Especially since he saved it for all of us. It would be really ungrateful or something and he’d be upset.” Buffy tried to offer a weak smile but it never managed to spread past one corner of her mouth. “You know, Faith suggested that I just talk to him; tell him what I was feeling. I did that last night and I know it sounds weird, but I almost felt like he could hear me somewhere.”

“I’m sure he found his redemption, Buffy, so wherever he is, he just might have.”

Willow tried hard not to frown. She knew how close a connection Buffy had with Spike. Even closer in some ways than the Slayer had ever had with Angel. So if Buffy thought Spike could hear her… well, maybe it was something Willow needed to look into. Quietly, of course.

“If it helps you to talk to him, then do, Buffy. You know you can talk to me as well.”

“I know, Willow. Thanks. I think I talked enough for a while last night though, okay?”

“Yeah. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Willow hugged her friend before rising from the bench. The witch knew she had a phone call to make as soon as she could.

~*~

‘you keep on building the lie

that you make up for all that you lack’

Spike walked through the ‘house’ as memories filled him everywhere he looked. He’d not realized that he’d memorized so much detail about Buffy’s house, but then again, he mused, he’d certainly been there enough the last few months.

If only all this wasn’t simply another lie to help him try to keep what little sanity he had left.

~*~

‘and it's hard at the end of the day

I need some distraction’

Angel set the amulet on the bedside table and turned out the light.

He wasn’t comfortable leaving it out of his sight for some reason. Wesley and Lindsey had worked with it and researched it all day, and didn’t know anything more than they had to start with. Lilah had been equally unresponsive to all their suggestions for cooperation.

Angel had been a bit surprised by what Wes was willing to inflict as persuasion, starting with the ex-watcher’s grasp on Lilah’s neck earlier.

It made Angel wonder if Wes had spent time on the sly with Angelus.

Lindsey, on the other hand, had seemed rather amused by Lilah’s predicament, what with the imprisonment, torture, being dead and all…

Angel finally rolled over and made the attempt to sleep, trying to hush some of those pleasant thoughts from today.

The dreams started that night.

Angel was adrift in a world of geometric shapes, jarring colors and images. Everything seemed to have sharp edges that were uncomfortable in a strange indefinable way when the vampire tried to look, or listen to them.

Off in the distance, or whatever passed for distance in this place, Angel heard singing. It seemed to be the only thing that didn’t hurt to try and absorb, so the dark-haired vampire tried to walk toward that sound.

Walking was definitely an exercise in oddity here, wherever here was… Angel was beginning to wonder if there was going to be a rainbow or very short people involved in this dream, because he was quite sure he wasn’t in Kansas!

Just as he crept around a sharp-edged orange blob that seemed to be melting, the confusion suddenly vanished and Angel found himself on the edge of Buffy’s yard.

He quickly looked behind him and there now was a jagged purple shard of… something.

Looking around again, there was Buffy’s yard and house. For a few long moments, Angel simply looked back and forth… a pink furred lump, Buffy’s house. A blue mountain, Buffy’s house. A chartreuse lake, Buffy’s house.

Feeling as though he’d drank some really BAD blood before bedtime, Angel headed the sanest direction, Buffy’s house. That seemed to be the location of the singing as well, which had resumed as Angel stood befuddled.

The very confused vampire walked around the corner of the house and there in the dim, overcast daylight, sitting on the back steps that Angel knew so well, was none other than… Spike!

“Spike?”

“Hullo, Peaches. Don’t remember creatin’ YOU! Time is bloody wonked ‘round here though, so I might have and just forgot… No. No, if I was gonna create anybody, would have been Buffy, so you just have to be one more illusion.”

Spike looked away and resumed singing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Spike, but if you don’t shut up that caterwauling and tell me what the hell is going on, I’ll rip your lips right off and stuff them up your nose!”

After all the strange things he’d seen so far, Angel was not ready to be dismissed as anybody’s figment, least of all Spike’s… even if Spike probably was a figment himself. Angel rubbed his forehead, knowing he’d have a headache from this.

“Hmmm, sounds like you though. So what exactly are you doin’ here in my private hell, Angel? Better yet, where tha’ hell is this hell?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Spike. I’m dreaming back in L.A., in my own bed and then I’m here in some drugged-out bizarro land with you!” Angel settled uncomfortable on the very edge of the bottom step, looking up at Spike, “I thought Buffy gave you the amulet?”

“Did. Burned me to dust, or so I thought. Brought down the Hellmouth, took out all the First’s nasty vamp friends. Almost couldn’t convince Buffy to leave. I couldn’t stand for her to die again. Then I woke up here. Nasty place. All the wacked out shapes and colors that keep changin’ reminds of when I fed off tha’ flower-person at Woodstock. Think they had more chemicals than blood, they did. ‘Cept it wa’n’t all foggy like this place. E’vn foggier here than London, how I don’t miss that, I can tell you.”

“Spike! Hush…” Angel held up his hand to ward off the tide of verbiage Spike just kept babbling. “So you’re telling me that Buffy gave you the amulet to wear and it did something that caused that huge crater that’s all Sunnydale is now?”

“Well, yeah. D’I make you hard of hearin’ or stupid or somethin’? Cause if I was makin’ Angel, that’s what I’d do, cause you are, you know! Come waltzin’ in, kiss the girl and walk back out. Beat hell outta you on the bag though…”

Angel grabbed at Spike and was so surprised to feel the solidness of the blonde, that he almost released him before he recovered. “Spike, damn it! Shut up! Let me try and figure this out…”

“Oh right, like you could…”

Angel sat straight upright in his bed because of the knocking at his door that had taken on the cadence of a jackhammer.

Ripping the covers back, the vampire lunged to his feet, intent on doing bodily damage to whoever was at that door…

“Fred! Ah, ummm. What’s wrong?”

“Oh. I was doing some late reading... I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I might as well put the time to good use and there’s all those books from WH and all…”

Angel felt like he was having a waking version of his recent dream, except it was Fred instead of Spike, that was determined to melt his brain into ooze so it could run out his ears… Shaking his head, Angel realized he was about to do the same thing to himself at this rate. “Fred. I’m sorry you couldn’t sleep. And I’m glad you have all those books to read, but why were you pounding on my door in the middle of the night?”

“Sorry… I was trying to research something to help bring Cordy out of her coma. I had an idea, I think, but I thought you’d want to know about it.” Fred looked down slightly at the floor before she continued, feeling a bit embarrassed, “I just kinda forgot that everybody else wasn’t awake like me.”

“Some of us are, what with the sounds remarkably similar to construction work echoing through the hallways.” Wesley stood behind Fred, his hair tousled, shirt askew in his haste and sleepiness while attempting to button it.

From the opposite end of the hallway, the three Angel Investigation members saw an equally disheveled Lindsey heading toward them as he leaned slightly against the wall for support.

“Looks like several of us can keep you company now, Fred.” Lindsey rubbed both hands across his face several times in an attempt to convince his eyes to function with his brain. “Maybe we should go make some coffee and you can tell those of us who don’t go back to sleep well after being awakened, all about what you found for Cordelia.”

Wesley and Angel looked at the obviously sleepy lawyer and nodded in agreement. Fred managed to look exceptionally chagrined as she glanced from one sleepy male face to another.

“I-I can go start some coffee while you guys, ah… do what guys do to wake up?”

Wesley, having had previous experience with Fred’s attempts to make coffee, shuddered slightly. “No. Just set out some cups and whatever. I’ll be down momentarily to make the coffee, Fred. The physicians that we know who’d make house calls will charge extra in the middle of the night, and I don’t think my stomach can take any battery acid just now, but I do appreciate you offering.”

“Yeah… I know I haven’t got that coffee thing down quite yet. Maybe if I consider it a scientific formula…”

Face brightening with that unfinished thought, Fred headed downstairs to the kitchen leaving the three men alone in the hallway.

“Her coffee really that bad?” Lindsey remembered the sludge he’d gotten occasionally at Wolfram and Hart and couldn’t imagine completely undrinkable coffee, at least not for an attorney.

“You have no idea!” Angel gave his own shudder at the thought of the dark, thick, acidic liquid he’d drunk by mistake only once. Once had been enough to almost convince him to never touch the stuff again until Cordelia…

‘No. Don’t think about Cordy right this second. Just wake up and go hear what Fred has to say…’

“Fred’s attempts at coffee, I feel, should constitute an entirely new class of solvent, Lindsey; one that you’d not wish to drink. We had a pentagram on the floor once, thanks to Angel, which resisted all our efforts to remove it. After many hours of scrubbing with a wide variety of caustic material, none of which made any impression on whatever it was Angel used to put the pentacle there in the first place, Fred accidentally spilled a cup of her own coffee on it and the liquid removed the marks effortlessly.” Wesley explained the bare facts of the event before turning to head downstairs. He knew that if left long enough, Fred would again make the attempt he wanted to forestall.

“Serve that at a Board meeting, Angel. Sounds like you’d at least put the Partners out of commission for a day or two. Going down there?”

Lindsey looked slightly more awake than Angel felt.

“Yeah. Giv’me a minute or two to get… something; awake, coherent, one of those.”

Lindsey nodded and turned away as Angel stepped back into his room, his gaze falling on the amulet sitting on the bedside table. The memory of the dream came back full force.

~*~

Angel entered the kitchen to find Lindsey, Wesley and Fred staring into large steaming cups of coffee. In Lindsey and Wesley’s case, the staring was rather bleary-eyed.

As he walked around the table, the microwave dinged and Fred launched herself from her chair toward the box on the counter. “I made you a cup, Angel. I mixed the coffee and blood together for you. Kind of a breakfast pick-you-up. I hope you like it.”

Taking the cup carefully, as if it might bite him, Angel carefully sniffed the unusually colored liquid, then took a sip. Moments passed and he took a second larger swallow, sighing a bit.

“This isn’t bad, Fred. You might have discovered a new vampire food group. Blood and caffeine.” The dark-haired vampire settled into an empty chair at the table while the other two men watched him speculatively. “What? It’s good! Blood for nutrition and caffeine to wake me up!”

~*~

‘Memories seep from my veins

Let me be empty and weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight’

The more Willow thought about her conversation with Buffy, the more the redheaded witch felt she should investigate Buffy’s feelings that she could converse with Spike in her dreams and that he could somehow hear her. Willow wasn’t sure why, but the idea caused a sensation of alarm bells in her head, the feeling of her skin trying to crawl off her back… It made her feel like she was missing some important fact, something she ought to remember and that the longer she failed to see it, whatever IT was, the worse it would become.

Making the decision to plunge into a headlong investigation, Willow crawled into bed for the night. Kennedy was already asleep; exhausted from fighting a demon she’d stumbled into earlier that day. Willow curled up next to the new slayer that was her lover, wrapping her arm around the brunette, and tucking her head into the back of Kennedy’s shoulder.

‘Spend all your time waiting for that second chance

For the break that will make it okay’

Willow seemed to be suspended in mid-air, her arms held out slightly for balance against the occasional sluggish swirl of air. A shiver darted a jagged path down her spine as she remembered an all too similar occasion in the metaphysical grasp of Rack. Shaking her head to clear it of that unpleasant memory, Willow tried to see through the encroaching mist as she drifted through the air currents.

Off in the distance across a frighteningly chaotic landscape, she saw what seemed to be Buffy’s house…

With the speed of thought, Willow found herself ‘landing’ in the front yard. But as she gazed around, she noticed small inconsistencies that seemed almost stranger than finding herself at the house.

Willow thought she’d been dreaming, but didn’t understand why she’d dream a pile of crushed cigarette butts under the tree in the front yard, or a motorcycle in the driveway. As she looked closer, she noticed plants she’d helped to weed or trim, in odd places as well…

The redhead went up the walk to the wide porch, hand reaching for the doorknob. She glanced from side to side, feeling as though she was definitely not alone.

Slowly pushing the door open, Willow stepped inside-Buffy’s living room. A dark, figure-shaped mass lay on the sofa and for a fleeting moment of panic, Willow feared that her dream had inserted Buffy’s mother there from some sick sense of…

The figure turned over and a startling shock of hair, white-blonde against the pillow, caused her to gasp in a sharp intake of breath.

As she watched like a spectator at an accident, hand across her mouth, the figure sat up and turned toward her.

“What you doing here, Red? ‘M dreamin’ again, I guess. Don’t know why I can’t seem to dream about Buffy though… First Angel and now you… Doesn’t make much sense.”

Spike ran his hand through his hair.

“SPIKE!”

Willow ran a few steps toward the vampire, but stopped abruptly, knowing it couldn’t be him, that he was under tons of rubble where Sunnydale had been.

“Bloody hell, woman! Ya’ don’t have to yell at me! Would think I could have a normal dream… Woman I love, shaggin’, a bit of a nip…”

“Spike, I’m not a dream. You are. Now, if I just knew why I was dreaming about you…”

Spike took the remaining steps between them to grasp Willow’s arm.

“Seems both of us are awfully damned solid for dreams, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh my Goddess! Are you real, Spike? And if you’re real… Where are we?”

Willow’s voice had fallen to a shocked whisper.

“Oh, I seem to be real, alright. Since I can touch you, guessin’ you’re real enough too.”

Spike looked thoughtful for a moment, “Maybe Peaches WAS real.”

The thought surprised the blonde.

“So we’re both real, Spike. Peaches? You mean you saw Angel here too? And where is here?!” Willow waved a hand to indicate everything around them.

“I don’t know, Willow. If I did, I’d leave. Is Buffy alright?”

All the bravado disappeared from Spike, leaving him seemingly deflated, lost.

“She’s alive and okay for the most part. She’s really, really sad all of the time, Spike. I know part of it is that Sunnydale is gone. Everything she’s lived with for the last seven years completely vanished, but the biggest problem is you.”

“ME!?” Spike pulled himself together; standing a bit taller as he struggled to find the words to protest what he thought was an outrageous suggestion. He’d been in this living hell for what felt like forever.

“You, Spike. She misses you constantly. When she thinks nobody sees, she cries. It hurts to see her acting normal with silent tears sliding down her face. She won’t talk much about it either. I mean, she has a bit to Faith, but Faith’s not telling. I think Buffy feels like she failed you in some way besides just missing you.”

Spike saw the honest sincerity in the face of his love’s best friend. It made his chest tight with tears he couldn’t shed; his heart feel like a hand had grasped it, squeezing hard.

“ ‘S my fault after all, then.”

His hand fell away from Willow’s arm as he turned away to gaze across the room and out one of the side windows.

Burned deep in his mind were Buffy’s last words to him… ‘I love you.’ Even heavier was the memory of his reply to the same words he’d waited so long to hear from her. He’d looked at her tear filled eyes, her sweet face, wanting to memorize it enough to last him a lifetime. He’d known his ‘lifetime’ was about to be only seconds or minutes at the most and that he could never forget her face, but he gazed anyway. Then he’d told her, ‘No. You don’t. But thanks for saying it. It's your world up there. Now GO!’

She’d run up the ramp, out of the Hellmouth, leaving him alone like he’d demanded of her, just before he’d felt the light turn into liquid fire in his veins, burning him from the inside out, as the roof of the world fell in on him.

‘where there is injury -- pardon;’

It was Willow’s turn to grab his arm, jerking him around to face her.

“What do you mean it’s your fault? What did you do to her? How? When?”

Looking down where her hand tightened around his arm, Spike looked back up to the redhead’s face, “Just before the roof fell in… Before she ran out of the Hellmouth… She told me she loved me. I – I wanted more than almost anything to hear her tell me that. But tha’ world was going ta’ hell in a hand basket ‘bout then and I wanted her to be safe even more than to hear that she loved me, so I told her that she didn’t. I thanked her for tellin’ me and then told her to run.”

“Oh, Spike… I’m sorry. That does explain part of what’s wrong with Buffy. I know she loves you, Spike.”

“I know, Red. I know she does. Tried long enough to get her to see it. Lil' chit practically yelled it enough with her actions. I wanted for so long to hear that from her, then she tells me when tons of earth are ‘bout to fall on both of us… I had to get her out of there. Don’t you see?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Willow was silent for long moments while she absorbed all that she’d just learned. One question quickly rose back to the surface, “Spike, so if all that happened, and I know it did. I mean, I saw Sunnydale not there. So are you dead? Can a vampire actually die? And where are we?”

“Don’t know if I’m dead or not. Vamps can dust, and I guess you’d call that dead. But ‘m not dust, am I? Don’t know what you’d call it now. ‘Where are we?’ Don’t know that either. Let’s sit down, pet. I need a smoke.” He headed through the kitchen toward the back door.

Willow followed, talking almost as rapidly as her mind could work, on the whole problem. “Spike, you know this isn’t really Buffy’s house and she’s not gonna be in here, so you can smoke in here. Where did you get cigarettes?”

“Don’t know that either. I think about’em and they’re in m’ pocket. I know Buffy won’t be here and that this isn’t really her house… Doesn’t mean I should treat it any different though.” He shrugged. “I love her. Can’t seem to treat her house any differently, f’all it’s not real.”

They sat on the steps of the back porch where Spike had often sat with Buffy. He told Willow everything he could about his odd environment, answered her questions about what had happened in the battle, mentioned his feelings for Buffy only once and listened with almost rapt attention to every word the witch mentioned about the blonde Slayer.

Willow had begun to get an idea from what Spike had explained about his surroundings. Granted, it was an odd concept, even to her, but she thought it might be the answer.

“Spike, I think I might know where you are, well, where we are right now. And possibly even why I’m here and able to touch you and talk to you.”

“Well, out with it! Don’t leave me sittin’ here in the dark… Not that it’s really dark here, but it’s not sunlight either…”

“Spike! You’re babbling!” She smiled, as he looked somewhat embarrassed. “Okay. I think you’re-“

Willow vanished in mid-sentence. The startled look crossed Spike’s face for a brief second before he yowled in anguish and slammed a fist through the floor of the porch.

~*~

‘So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn

There's vultures and thieves at your back

The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies’

“Just be careful with it, okay? I just have a feeling. We shouldn’t harm it.” Angel handed the amulet to Wesley as Lindsey looked on.

“Do you think we’d be releasing some kind of magickal energy, should that happen?” Wesley looked thoughtfully at the gaudy object as it dangled from its equally garish chain.

“I don’t know. It’s just that…” Angel turned on his heel, hands scraping through his hair, frustration filling him. He wanted to explain what he felt about the amulet, but the dark-haired vampire had no clear idea even for himself.

Making another attempt, he turned abruptly back to Wesley and Lindsey as Wesley secured the object in a small vise of some type. “I don’t know what to call it. I’ve just got this gut feeling that we shouldn’t harm it and at the same time, I just want to throw it as far away from me as possible. It was probably pure chance that I found it… but what if it wasn’t?”

“Probably not a bad idea, Angel. Since the amulet came from the Senior Partners, I’m willing to bet that almost anything we might do to it, is a bad idea. Maybe including leaving it alone…” Lindsey bend slightly to get a closer look at the stone in its gaudy setting, a pair of loupes slipped over his head giving him a rather owlish look.

~*~

“…sure. I mean, I suppose it’s possible that such a thing could happen, but what makes you think it did?”

“It felt all too real. I don’t know. The place was full of magickal essence and I think that was what was being used… maybe even the reason I found him there.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to them about it? They’re trying to test it. They just don’t know what they’re testing it for…”

“I kinda feel like we should stop them.”

“What if he can be gotten out of there?”

“With all that magick a part of him now? I told you how much trouble I had before. What would he be like now?”

“Hmmm, good point. So what do you want me to do?”

“I guess nothing right now. Just see what you can find out and I’ll try again from this end. Give me a few days and we’ll compare notes again. Maybe I’ll actually know something by then.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to you then.”

Fred hung up the telephone, leaning back in her chair to consider the possibilities that Willow speculated. Fred was torn between wanting to keep the redheaded witch’s confidence and with telling the guys.

She barely saw the pages of the book she held as she attempted to read further.

~*~

‘The storm keeps on twisting,

you keep on building the lies

That make up for all that you lack’

Buffy drifted into sleep again. She knew she should get out of bed, but the sense of despair that had ridden her since the destruction of Sunnydale… No, she had to admit to herself, it had been since she knew she loved him and she was going to lose him… all in a matter of a few moments.

Pulling the cover further over her head and the pillow tighter to her chest, the blonde slayer could only see the image of clasped hands as they flamed. The memory was burned into her mind.

She walked up the steps of her own porch, dazed as she stepped through the doorway. There were small differences in the house, the objects inside.

She reached to touch a small vase, but pulled back, afraid to find out if it was real or not.

Buffy made her way to the back kitchen door minutes later, still afraid to touch the knob. Pulling herself together, she gingerly reached for it, finding the metal cold under her fingertips. She slid her hand firmly around the knob and twisted, pulling the door open.

A strangled gasp escaped her throat moments later while she clutched at the doorframe to keep from falling.

“Buffy!” He was up the steps in seconds, arms around her as he pulled her to him, in part to keep her from falling and in part to reassure himself that she was really there.

“S-Sp-Spike?”

“I’m here, love. I’m here. I never meant to hurt you. I know you told me the truth but we didn’t have time to talk about it. Never known you to NOT talk something like that to death once ya faced it, love.” Spike pulled back, holding her at arms length as his eyes drank in the vision of her. He couldn’t understand why she was here now, after all the times he’d hoped to see her, the longing that had filled him for just another glimpse of her. He realized that none of that mattered since Buffy was here now; here and in his arms. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by her next words.

“Where are we? This isn’t what it looked like when I… Where I was.”

Buffy held tightly to his arms, fearful that if they stopped touching, that he’d cease to be there.

“Don’t know. ‘S not a lot of fun without you, though.”

Spike pulled her back into his arms, kissing her as she lifted her face to him.

~~

She stood back out of sight as she watched Buffy in Spike’s arms. Tendrils of icy fear crawled the length of her spine. If her idea was true, and it seemed almost certain now; then the fact that Buffy could get here as well, could cross into this space to see Spike, meant the Slayer would do so more and more often.

Willow watched and knew that she couldn’t allow that to happen. No matter how many slayers they had now, Buffy was THE Slayer. To allow her to be trapped… lost here with Spike, whatever he was now, was something the witch couldn’t allow.

Quietly stepping backwards, she pulled herself out of the trance and out of the enclosing space.

~~

‘Spend all your time waiting for that second chance

For the break that will make it okay’

“You know you can’t stay here, love”

It felt like hours had passed. Spike held Buffy close, her head resting on his shoulder, as they lay spent under the cover of her bed, in her room, in her house; the only fleck of reality in the entire chaotic nightmare that was his world now.

“Yes, I can. All I have to do is just sleep and I’ll be here with you.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. You can’t just sleep your life away, Buffy. People need you.”

“There are other slayers now. They can take care of things. Don’t YOU need me or even want me, Spike?”

She tried to turn away from him but he tightened his arms, holding her still.

“You know bloody damned well I want you! I need you! The thought of seeing you even one last time has been all that’s kept me from goin’ stark ravin’ bonkers. But other people need you more. You’re tha’ Slayer, like it or not!

It’s because I love you that I can’t let you stay in this private hell-hole I seem ta’ have acquired.”

“I do love you, Spike. I want to stay with you, whatever that takes.”

She looked into the blue eyes she never thought she’d see again, silently urging him to see the truth in her own eyes.

“I know you do, love. But it’s no safer here than tha’ last time you told me that. I love you too much ta’...”

“Buffy! You have to wake up!” Willow shook her friend again, mentally preparing herself to slap Buffy if she had to, to wake her.

“NOOOOOO! Spike!” The words were a cry, a scream; both and neither as Buffy woke in the motel room. Rage instantly flooded through her and she pushed Willow away before she could stop herself.

‘I'm pulled down by the undertow

I never thought I could feel so low

oh darkness I feel like letting go’

~*~

“And Willow really feels that this is the situation?” Wesley sounded calm, but his face plainly showed the amazement he felt as Fred repeated the conversation she’d had with the redheaded witch, formerly of Sunnydale.

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to think about it. What if she’s right?”

“I have no idea, Fred. Have you discussed this with anyone else?”

“N-no. I thought I should tell you and then you might know if her idea was even valid. I mean, I kinda got the feeling that she might be trying to… to protect Buffy from herself maybe.” Fred wasn’t sure how to describe the redhead’s agitation or even if she should tell about how upset Willow had been about Buffy.

“I do understand, Fred. And I appreciate the trust you’ve shown in telling me about this. You’re right that I’m almost the only person who knows or knew, all of the parties involved. I need to think about this for a bit before I make any decisions, so please do not tell anyone else yet. Especially Angel.” Wesley had an idea of his own that was trying hard to find a spot to take root in his mind. He just needed a bit of time… and a particular scroll from the safe.

“Sure, Wes. I’ll just go… I mean, I’ve got some…” Fred inched hesitantly toward the stairs leading to her own office. “I think I’ll just go sit in my office for a while and think too.” She nodded at Wesley as she turned and almost ran up the stairs.

As the slender brunette vanished through the doorway at the top of the stairs, Wesley turned toward the safe.

“Are you sure she’s going to keep quiet about this?”

Wesley whirled around, pinning Lindsey with an exceptionally unfriendly glare.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Pretty much all of it. I was simply sitting there at the desk when the two of you came in to talk. Neither of you said anything to me, so I didn’t want to interrupt or anything.”

“I think it was obvious we came in here for privacy…” Wesley tried to choke down the rising anger and panic.

“And that’s exactly what I gave you. Now, how about I help you go over that scroll. I’m thinking we’re both looking for the same thing in it and two heads may be better than one in this case, especially since I’ve studied it previously.” Lindsey extended his arm, offering the ex-watcher the choice of preceding him to the safe.

~*~

‘fly away from here

from this dark cold hotel room

and the endlessness that you fear

you are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie’

Willow fell backwards into the wall. She slid several feet down the vertical surface before managing to catch herself. Using the corner of the bedside table, the redheaded witch levered herself upwards. After that first violent shove, Buffy simply sat on her bed, both hands covering her face as she cried into them.

“Buffy, you can’t just sleep constantly.”

Knuckling the tears from her eyes, the blonde turned, grief and rage distorting her features.

“And why the hell not!? Give me one good reason not to! And before you dare tell me that people need me… There are other slayers now. I fought for years! I gave up everything that mattered to me and even when it killed me, you wouldn’t leave me in peace!” Buffy threw the covers off. They landed in a heap on the far side of the room.

“My friends didn’t like Angel because he was a vampire, even though he had a soul. Then of all things, I fell in love with Spike! So I lied! I lied to him, to all of my FRIENDS. I lied to myself. And still none of you approved!” Buffy walked across the room and kicked the pile of covers back toward the bed, as Willow stood motionless against the wall in shock.

“Spike worked side by side with all of you, even without a soul, when I was dead. But did that cut him any slack with any of you? NO! Tara was the only one that knew that he and I… that we… So he went to get a soul… William the Bloody… second only to Angelus… went and deliberately got a soul! No curses attached, no ‘happiness clause’, and because all my FRIENDS disapproved, I kept lying. Kept treating him horribly! Then all of you turned on me as well, just as I was trying my best to save all your asses!”

Buffy had advanced slowly toward Willow until she stood directly in front of the woman that she’d considered her best friend. Placing a hand on the wall on each side of Willow’s head, Buffy leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper, “But only Spike came after me. With all I’d done to him, he was still there for me. And in the end, when I couldn’t lie any longer, when I couldn’t keep quiet any longer, after hoping my actions would tell him how much I finally realized I cared, I told him I loved him, only to lose him moments later. So if I want to sleep the rest of my life away to be with him, give me One. Damned. Good. Reason, why I shouldn’t?”

Willow had no idea what to say to this new and frightening Buffy. A Buffy that had her as effectively pinned to the wall as if she’d been nailed to it… “Buffy…”

The room door opened suddenly and Faith sauntered in, taking the situation in at a glance. “Hey, B! How ‘bout lettin’ Will go there. ‘S not like I wanna fight ya or anything anymore, but I can take it a lot better than she can. We might need her later.”

Faith had moved steadily closer until she stood at Buffy’s shoulder. Laying her hand gently on the blonde’s upper arm, Faith could feel the muscles tense under the golden skin, coiled like a spring wound too tight and just as likely to explode.

“Let her go, Buffy.” Faith looked at Willow, catching the frightened eyes with her own and jerking her head toward the doorway, indicating to Willow that she should go now.

Willow watched Faith, counting on the woman, as she’d never done before, as she slipped down the wall far enough to duck under Buffy’s outstretched arm and run out the door of the room.

“B… you gonna leave the wall there or what?”

Faith tried to gently turn Buffy to face her.

Feeling as though the world was collapsing in on her as the Hellmouth had done to Sunnydale and Spike, Buffy tried to force her arms to relax enough to move them off the wall. Tears streamed down her face again before she’d managed to get her body under control enough to move.

Buffy collapsed into Faith’s arms, weeping as though she’d cry the broken pieces of her heart out onto the brunette Slayer.

~*~

“Fred, I don’t care what you have to do… Just get it and smash it! It’s

dangerous! Buffy’ll kill herself if we don’t destroy it!”

“I just don’t know… Angel checks on it every few minutes and Wesley and Lindsey are working on something with it…”

Fred could hear the hysteria around the edges of every word Willow whispered to her. She knew the witch was desperate, but to destroy the amulet…

“Let me talk to Angel, Fred. He’ll understand.”

“Willow, I can’t. He’s not here right now. I can get Wesley or Lindsey though.”

Fred brightened at the thought of one of those two men handling this situation instead of her.

“No! Don’t tell either of them. Look, I’ll try to call you back later. Maybe Angel will be back by then. I’ve gotta go.” The phone line buzzed as Willow hung up.

Fred slowly placed the receiver back on its cradle, her mind churning with possible meanings and implications and actions… or not. Without realizing it, her steps carried her back into the library where Wesley and Lindsey pored over the scroll in whispered silence. Lindsey noticed the slender brunette first, and nudged Wesley to call attention to Fred’s somnambulant-like state.

Moving quickly to her side, Wesley guided her to an empty chair at their table and gently questioned her as to the problem.

Heedless of her promise, Fred was relieved to tell both men everything.

~*~

‘So it's better this way, I said

having seen this place before

where everything we said and did

hurts us all the more’

“Wesley, the phone is for you.” Lindsey held the instrument out to the ex-watcher.

“Hullo.”

“Faith! Thank goodness! Can you explain to me what is happening there, please?”

Wesley listened for several minutes, occasionally murmuring an acknowledgement or an expletive that was sharply bitten off. “Yes, yes. I see all too clearly. Do you have a pharmacy close by? Good, I’ll call them. Yes, actually I can. I still have my Watcher’s number and this is something that has no other use except for Slayers. Get her to sleep, Faith. Please call me back later this evening. Um…I miss you too.”

Wesley hung up the handset and turned back to the table, easing back down into his chair.

“It seems the problem is better and worse than we imagined, however, I think with the new information from Faith and what we’ve just learned from the scroll, we can solve the immediate problem.”

~*~

“…so I can’t even figure out if I want to try and solve this puzzle.”

Angel summed up with the same statement he’d used several times already during the conversation.

“Hmmmm, so I can tell. Okay, Angel-cakes. I think you need to ask yourself and be truthful in your answer, if you’re simply jealous. You did go on and on about smelling Spike all over Buffy, and have I mentioned recently that that is really a gross talent? You’re still all a-flutter that she asked him to wear the tacky fry-ornament instead of you, even with all you know about it now. If it were a horse, I’d have to bet on jealousy by a mile to win.” Lorne leaned back in his chair reaching for the glass of juice on his desk. He’d been trying hard to stay away from the hot and cold running booze there at Wolfram and Hart. At least until after 6pm.

“Okay… so I’m jealous. That’s not a crime is it?”

“Well, in some states it just might be by now… No, it’s not. But it is coloring your judgment on this thing. Now let me see if I remember all this correctly… stop me if I get any of it wrong, okay?” Lorne took a deep breath and drove in head first.

“You left Buffy for her own good. Then there was all the smoochies and snuggles with Darla. A quick stop over with electro-girl and woven in like an exquisite tapestry was Cordy before she… you know. You and Buffy don’t dare get all pelvic ‘cause of that pesky gypsy curse, and you wanted her to have a more normal life… Or as normal as a demon-infested Slayer can ever have. So, she had a government boyfriend that you didn’t like and used for a punching bag. Then she finally moved on to one of your own brood, who went out and got himself a shiny new soul all on his own, curse free… and saved the world with the tinny jewel from the Senior Partners. Then too it seems that the little blonde Slayer bombshell is in love with this Spike, who might or might not be inside the amulet or at least somewhere all tied to it.”

Lorne drained the glass before setting it back on the blue stone coaster occupying the corner of his desk. “All this leads to a problem deciding if you should rescue Spike from wherever it is that he is, if he’s gonna be competition for Buffy, who hasn’t by the way even called you since her own end of the Apocalypse, and then only IF you can figure out a way to rescue Spike and where he is really. Did I get all that right?”

“Well… you make it sound so… selfish.” Angel slumped lower in his chair.

“DUH! Only if your mission in unlife is to help the helpless! Seems like they are both pretty helpless right now, Angel-kins.”

“Did I mention that I really don’t like Spike?” Angel asked, a bit too cheerfully.

“No, but I figured that one out on my own.” Lorne simply looked at the dark-haired brooding vampire, waiting on him to admit the answer to his own question.

“I suppose I should try to rescue him then… If we can. Of course, he could be gone for good…” Angel saw the ‘look’ Lorne gave him. “But we can probably think of something. Thanks for this little pep talk, Lorne. I'll go suggest to Wesley and Lindsey that we ought to try and pull off a rescue…”

Angel eased out of the chair and the office. Once on the other side of the now closed door, he leaned against the wall and sighed, shaking his head before finally trudging back to find Lindsey and Wesley.

Every step felt weighted down as resignation settled in and made itself at home.

~*~

‘If all of the strength

and all of the courage

come and lift me from this place’

Wesley and Lindsey had carefully spread out the scroll containing the Prophecies of Aberjian, as they studied them, looking for any clue that might possibly explain Willow’s theory to Fred regarding the amulet.

Lindsey finally slumped back into his chair, looking bleary-eyed from pouring over the cramped, ancient script. He rubbed his hand across his face trying to clear the cobwebs from his head, “Wes, Do you still have that other one? The ‘Anatole’ thing?”

“Is that the one you used for… when…” Wesley looked almost embarrassed to try and finish the thoughts. He’d gotten to know this man now and regardless of their previous interactions with Lindsey McDonald, the ex-watcher just couldn’t find it in him to hold onto his previous dislike of the man.

“When Wolfram and Hart raised Darla, when Angel cut off my hand… Yeah, those. It’s okay Wes. I know probably better than you guys do what I did then. It was that lure of the Almighty dollar after having been so incredibly poor my entire life. But it also caused me to really hate who I was… had become. It finally hit home harder than you can imagine when they gave me back my hand. I can’t hate the fact that I have two good hands now, but every time I look at it, I know what Wolfram and Hart was, what they did… Having both hands reminds me who they were, who I’d let them make of me and that I don’t ever want to be that person again. It’s one reason I’m here now. I do NOT want to see them do that to Angel, or to any of you.” Lindsey chuckled ruefully, “Angel and I are polite and cordial to each other, but I have no illusions that we’re friends. If I can keep him out of the Senior Partner’s grasp, that’s what matters.”

Wesley looked rather speculatively at the young lawyer. There were obviously more depths to him than any of them had ever seen, or for that matter, ever suspected.

“We’d wondered your true reasons for coming back.” Seeing the look Lindsey turned on him, Wesley simply shrugged, “I had no idea there was such a depth of feeling in this matter. Other than the obvious ones of the way the firm treated you and every one else, might I ask why, especially in light of your past history with Angel, have you chosen to assist him now?”

“You can always ask, Wes.” Lindsey flashed that sardonic smile at the man he’d come to respect and even somewhat admire, unexpectedly. “Angel, whether I personally like him or not, is a Champion. He’s unique in that he’s a vampire with a soul. Okay, it’s got a little curse attached to it, and he didn’t volunteer for it, but he’s got one anyway. But now we also have Spike, a vampire sired by Angelus, previously with a reputation almost as bad as Angelus himself, but no soul, falls in love with the same Slayer, and saves the world. Literally, big-time, saves the world. And is trapped in or by this amulet provided to Angel by the Senior Partners… There is something major trying to be manipulated there, Wesley. I’m not sure who or what, except that it will be something to the Senior Partner’s advantage and the disadvantage of everybody else. If I can do anything at all to stop them, or hinder them, keep them from succeeding at doing to the world or millions of people what they did to me, then I’m here to help.”

The two men simply looked at each other, weighing the words, the feelings that were almost palatable in the small room. The air was charged with expectation, a weight of someone or something waiting, watching, holding its breath as the tension mounted, as if the universe balanced on the very knife-edge of that tension.

Wesley broke the silence first. “Let me get you the scroll, Lindsey.”

“Thanks, Wes. And do we know everything about Spike up until his last few moments? Might come in handy, might make a difference in what we do or how…”

“No, but I can make a call and get the majority of the information.” Wesley opened the door to the vault, unlocking the specific compartment that held the appropriate scroll. He handed it to Lindsey with a solemn look. “I’ll let you study this while I make a call before they leave…”

Lindsey took the scroll, feeling the intangible weight in the room seem to lighten somewhat. He glanced a significant look at the ex-watcher’s back before gingerly unrolling the scroll, charred by his own hand at one end…

~*~

‘Grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love.’

“Faith, I’m glad I caught you before you moved on again. Is she any better? Oh good. Do you have a few minutes, dear? Wonderful. Yes, I do miss you too. I also need to get some information from you, alright? I need to know everything you can tell me about Spike for the last… As much as you know, Faith.” Wesley listened, even jotting down a few notes as Faith told him everything she knew about Spike, both from personal experience and from everything Buffy had told her. While much of it had been in confidence, Faith readily agreed that, as one of the men that had been a Watcher for both of them and the work he and the lawyer were attempting, she could betray those confidences to him. If they succeeded, the outcome had the potential to be something that Buffy would forgive all of them. Wesley hadn’t even needed Faith’s request to keep everything private from Angel…

“Thank you, love. Yes, go back to her, by all means… I think keeping it quiet would be the best. Keep in touch and as soon as we know anything, I’ll advise you.

I can handle that for you. Where are you exactly? Good, I’ll find out which store is closest and purchase the cell phone for you for you to pick up there… Of course, I’m sure and it’s a wonderful idea. Take care of yourself, Faith.” Wesley slowly hung up the telephone receiver. He was amazed, astounded… from what he’d just learned about Spike, at how much Faith had matured, that she missed him as much as he did her… That relationship had been a surprise to both of them; more of a surprise, really, than the relationship between Buffy and Spike. After all, Buffy had always shown a preference for vampires.

Pulling his thoughts back together, Wesley turned to walk back to where Lindsey was supposed to be engaged in studying the scroll, only to find the other man watching him intently, a somewhat bemused smile curling the corners of his mouth.

“You and Faith? After all she did to you in Wolfram and Hart’s employ?” Lindsey remembered all too well his own part in that fiasco.

“It was rather a surprise to us as well. I’d thought it the after effects of the battle against Angelus and the Beast, but it seems to still be there for both of us. I won’t say that we love each other, but there is at least the potential for it in the attraction we feel.

However, I think we have much more pressing concerns than my love life. Spike has a soul.” Wesley saw the shock of that one statement wash through Lindsey like a sudden flood of icy water cascading over the shorter man. “Yes… I thought that might get your attention. Sit down, Lindsey, it only gets better… or worse, from there.”

Wesley explained everything he’d learned about the new Spike, while Lindsey absorbed each word.

~*~

‘For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.’

Buffy woke from her drug-induced sleep. As angry as she’d been at Faith’s call to Wesley and the ex-Watcher’s called in prescription, she had to admit that she felt better.

The crushing despair was still there, the deep longing for Spike hadn’t diminished, but she felt clear-headed, more rested than she’d managed in the weeks since the battle in the Hellmouth. She also realized that she owed Faith a thank you in addition to the apology she needed to make to the brunette Slayer and to Willow.

Taking the few minutes to gather herself while she preformed the morning necessities in the bathroom, Buffy emerged as prepared as she was going to ever be to attempt to pull her feet back out of her mouth where she’d managed to shove both of them with her recent hasty, harsh and inconsiderate words. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and opened the door of her room.

~*~

Angel walked slowly and rather despondently down the hallway toward the library he knew Wesley and Lindsey had been using for their research. Just as he turned the corner, Fred popped out of a doorway, almost running into him.

“Angel! Oh, God! You scared me! I had no idea anyone was out here. I was just gonna go see if the guys had gotten any further in their investigations.”

“That’s where I was going too, Fred. I didn’t mean to startle you. Walk with me? I mean, since we’re both going to the same place… You know.”

“Sure” Fred bounced animatedly along at the vampire’s side, chattering away and inadvertently letting Wesley and Lindsey know they had company approaching. Both men hurriedly tucked their most important notes out of sight before Angel and Fred reached the doorway.

“So have either or both of you managed to determine anything significant about that amulet, or where Spike might be?” Angel leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, torn between hope and anxiety that Wesley and Lindsey might have discovered anything important.

“You might wish to come in and have a seat, Angel.” Wesley glanced quickly at the ex-lawyer before resuming, “We have a great deal of new information, most of which I imagine you’re not going to care for…” Wesley maintained a solemn expression as Angel gingerly took a seat while Lindsey ushered Fred to a second chair, having blocked her from leaving the room, presumably to call Willow.

~*~

‘it don't make no difference

escaping one last time

it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh

this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees’

“So… you’re saying Spike… Spike has a soul? He did this on his own? Because of Buffy? And he’s trapped in the crystal?” Angel wanted to hold his head and squeeze the words back out, to break something or better yet, someone, but he sat asking rhetorical questions, unable to accept their statements. He’d been attempting to deny much of that same information ever since Buffy had told him before Sunnydale disappeared. He wondered if he denied it long enough, if it just simply would cease being true. “Are you sure the thing will explode?”

“Angel, we’re not sure of anything, but everything we’ve found in the scroll seems to indicate that if we don’t fix this, the crystal in the amulet will explode creating a vortex in our world to wherever the material was gathered in order to create the pocket dimension in the stone. There is no way that’s gonna be a good thing for any of us, not to mention it would probably destroy Spike… or make a deity of him.” Lindsey looked even more serious, if that was possible. “I’d have thought you’d had enough of that already, from what I understand.”

“More than enough.” Angel sat morosely, remembering what he knew of Buffy’s battle with Glory, a battle that had killed her until being resurrected by Willow. Then there was Jasmine, but he was the only one to remember all the details of that event too. Angel wondered why his ‘punishment’ always seemed to be retaining complete memories of everything when others were allowed to forget, or only remember bits and pieces of the staggering events they’d endured. “Fine. Let’s do it then. Get this over with…” Angel looked pointedly at Fred, “You are NOT to call Willow or anyone else about this.”

Understanding the possible repercussions of defying such an order, especially with Angel in his current mood, Fred could only nod in agreement before rising to assist Wesley and Lindsey.

~*~

Lorne had had to call in several favors to acquire some of the ingredients or artifacts necessary, but they were finally ready to make the attempt to locate and return Spike.

Angel’s antipathy edged on animosity, so he’d chosen to sit the ritual out, watching from the corner of the room. Fred and Lorne handed items to Wesley and Lindsey as they chanted, invoked, burned, and smudged.

Three-quarters of an hour had passed when a low hum began in the room. It seemed to emanate from the amulet’s stone, increasing in intensity until Angel and Lorne reached to cover their much more sensitive ears. The grimace of pain on the faces of the remaining three said they weren’t far from the need to do the same. However, before that need became too overwhelming to be ignored, there was a near-blinding flash of light from the amulet, followed immediately by an intense burst of sound that shattered the glass in the nearby bookcases, as well as the crystal in the amulet. What lay in the slagged remains of the bowl were small shards of crystal, and a dirty, melted lump that had once been the setting of the amulet.

Wesley and Lindsey helped each other from the floor, while Lorne lifted an unconscious Fred, laying her on the small sofa in the smoke filled room. Angel opened the door, calling for someone to get maintenance and security, along with a doctor. All of the participants had cuts and gashes from the crystal shrapnel, but Lindsey and Wesley were by far the worst, having been so much closer to the source of the explosion.

~ ~

A short distance away, on the beach, a homeless man snatched at his bag of belongings, fleeing as fast as possible. He never even considered robbing the man lying in the edge of the foaming water where it curled against the hard, wet sand.

Not when an eerie green light had sheeted across the sky seconds before the white-blonde, leather coated man had fallen unconscious from the center of that light, hitting the sand with a resounding thud.

~*~

‘…the endlessness that you fear

you are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie’

The security officer stared at the retreating man, clutching his bag tightly to him. The vagrant had nearly run him down, babbling about ‘aliens’ and men falling from the sky. The guard had seen the unusual light flash, and walked toward his car. It was his job to protect the residents of the high-priced condominiums, so he reasoned it was his responsibility to investigate the lights if they had been significant enough to frighten the old man. Then too, if the man was to be believed at all, the possibility was high that someone had been injured. It might have been teens that had managed to acquire fireworks, or a model rocket…

Regardless, the security guard felt obligated to investigate, so he pulled his car to a halt at the edge of the parking lot before trudging across the sand, feeling it sift down inside his shoes, and through his socks to rub against the skin. The irritation was forgotten when he caught sight of the dark shape of a figure lying at the water’s edge. Holding the button on his radio as he ran, the guard called dispatch to send an ambulance.

~*~

Buffy felt mentally and emotionally wrung out as she sought her bed once more. The apologies, subsequent conversations that then resulted in another argument and more apologies and ended with another heartfelt crying jag on Faith’s shoulder, had completely undone every ounce of headway the blonde slayer felt she had gained from her drugged sleep that afternoon.

She taken a second dose of the medication Wesley had called in for her, barely hearing Faith advise her what it was or that it was only effective on slayers. Buffy simply wanted to sleep, to find Spike and be held.

Sleep wrapped her in its arms, but there was no surcease to the sorrow that filled her as she was unable to find Spike anywhere…

~*~

“BP one-forty over one hundred, pulse eighty-six. Pupils are equal and reactive but subject is unconscious. There are no obvious marks or wounds other than some mild burns to the face and hands, and an a old, well-healed scar in the lateral edge of the left eye-brow.” The paramedic had been sympathetic and had removed the obviously expensive, well-worn leather coat instead of simply cutting it off. He’d been puzzled why the man was wearing it, considering the heat that still radiated from the sand, or even why the man had been to the beach at all, wearing a coat. Shaking his head, he listened to the doctor’s instructions over the radio, “Start an IV of one thousand cc’s of Lactated Ringers to run KVO, and pull enough blood for a tox screen when you start the IV. Then transport. We’ll handle the burns here. Any ID?”

“None. Starting IV of one thousand cc’s Ringers with twenty jelco, pulled one red, one tiger and one dark blue tube of blood from the return. Patient stable and transporting.” He lifted in conjunction with his partner, sliding the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. Saint John’s Hospital was the closest, so that’s where they’d go. The patient began to mumble, and they stopped, trying to hear whatever he said. It might give them some clue to the man’s identity. “A-Angel… Buffy… gotta… find’em. Hotel… Hype-Hyper… Buffy!” His voice was horse, barely above a whisper. But the man had a very distinct British accent.

“Joe, isn’t there some hotel down Wilshire called the Hyperion? Big old place? Some detective agency run out of it?”

“Sounds familiar, maybe. We’ll let them know over at Trauma and they can check it out. Maybe somebody there will know this guy.”

“Yeah. Let’s get him on out of here.”

The gurney locked into place against the ambulance wall and Joe shut the huge back doors, leaving Tom with the man, unconscious once more.

~*~

“Doctor, I got a forwarding number to a law firm from that number for Angel Investigations. Wolfram and Hart. We’ll keep trying to call them. Maybe they have an after-hours emergency service.”

It was the Unit Secretary’s second night on her new job. Getting in touch with someone to identify the unconscious man could earn her some brownie points, so she kept calling every few minutes. On her fourth try, a security guard answered, telling her the offices were closed.

“I understand that, sir. I’m calling from Saint John’s hospital and we’ve admitted a man that regained consciousness long enough to ask for someone named Buffy, and attempted to ask for what we suspect is Angel Investigations. It used to be at the Hyperion Hotel and the number there forwards us to this office. The man seems to be British, if that helps any.”

“Well, I can get hold of the president and ask him if he knows anything about it. His name is Angel.”

“Thank you. Please have someone call us back and advise if this gentleman is know to anyone there or not.” She gave the guard the number for the nurse’s station and made a note of her call in the patient’s chart before re-shelving it.

~*~

“Mr. Wyndam-Pryce! I didn’t know you were still in the building.”

“Yes. We were actually doing some extensive research… Was there something I could help you with?” Wesley wanted to send the security guard away and get back to attempting to find an answer to why the amulet had exploded and what that meant now.

“I was actually wanting to contact Mr. Angel, or get a message to him. We had a call from a hospital about an unconscious man… I think he was British like you, she said… Any way, they thought Mr. Angel might know him or something, cause he’d been asking for someone named Angel and there was something or other about the Hyperion Hotel I know Mr. Angel used to have…” The security guard waited. He knew better than to ask about Mr. Wyndam-Pryce’s disheveled appearance, but that knowledge never stopped him from being curious, even if he couldn’t ask.

“I’ll get the message to Mr. Angel for you. You made a note of the hospital that called? Good. Did they have any additional information?” It was Wesley’s turn to be curious, especially in light of their earlier endeavors…

“No. They mentioned something about the man also asking for some woman named Buffy, but I know we don’t have a Buffy on the employee roster, down in security, for the pass codes and all…” His mind eased that the message would be delivered, or if not, that he’d at least made the attempt to convey the hospital’s concerns, the guard turned slightly, intending to return to his post, if the conversation was over.

“Buffy! The man mentioned Buffy!” Wesley almost lunged for the guard, catching his arm, “What hospital, and how long ago did they call?”

~*~

Faith heard Buffy whimper in her sleep from where she sat in the corner of the room. With everything that had happened, the brunette slayer was unusually concerned. The idea almost made her laugh. If anyone had told her a year ago that she’d ever be this concerned about Buffy Summers, Faith would have handed them their head on a plate. Yet here she was, chair pulled into the corner, watching Buffy sleep… or try to sleep. Faith wasn’t sure the blonde was managing any real ‘down time’ the way her sleep seemed to be disturbed.

Moments later, the younger girl was caught completely off guard when Buffy sat straight up and screamed Spike’s name.

~*~

“Yes, I believe he may be my cousin. He would be about 5’10” or so, perhaps 175 pounds, white-blonde hair?”

Looking down at the chart, the doctor nodded slightly before looking up at the tall brunette. “Yes, that’s his description. Do you have any idea, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, why your cousin William would have been unconscious on the beach tonight in Santa Monica?”

The small African-American doctor glanced again toward Lindsey, as she prepared to ask his identity. Lindsey caught the glances and saved the attractive doctor the trouble. “I’m sorry, Doctor Alexander, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce is concerned about his cousin. I’m Lindsey McDonald. I’m an attorney, but mostly just a friend of the family here for moral support.” He noticed the slight frown on the doctor’s face smooth itself out at his words.

“Good. You know that normally visiting hours would be some time from now, but since we need you to identify the patient… Please follow me. Both of you may certainly come.” Dr. Alexander turned away, heading down the hall as she expected both men to follow her.

Wesley and Lindsey had discussed the situation on the way to the hospital. They had no clue as to why they were seeing a ‘patient’ instead of identifying a body. They speculated that since the man had spoken, they’d assumed he was ‘alive’, but surely their instruments would have given them conflicting results by now…

Dr. Alexander opened the door to a private room, motioning that they should be quiet, then led them to the foot of the bed.

Wesley was quite glad that he and Lindsey had discussed the probability of the man actually being Spike because the patient lying in the bed had to either be Spike, or else his identical twin. The man had an IV hooked up, suspended on a metal pole at the head of the bed. His cheeks were slightly shiny from medication, over the reddened and obviously burned areas. Both hands were bandaged as well, lying motionless on top of the covers. The biggest surprise of all, however, was the fact that the man was definitely connected to a heart monitor, which showed a strong, regular rhythm.

~*~

“B! B! Buffy! Calm down! It’s okay.” Faith struggled with her sister slayer, trying to calm her before Buffy hurt herself or someone else.

“No! He’s in trouble, Faith… I’ve got to get to him!” Tears rolled down her face as she finally ceased her attempts to bolt from the room.

“Buffy… I know what you told me, what Willow told me. I know that Wesley and the gang are trying to solve the problem of where Spike is… But I don’t think he’s anywhere that you can get to him, if there’s a problem, B.” Faith knew the words would be painful, but she didn’t know what else to tell Buffy.

“That’s the point, Faith. I couldn’t get to him… not when I was asleep… not like before. Then there was the dream. There was a big explosion and Spike was falling through the sky, landing on a beach, then bright lights and lots of noise and this thing that just kept beeping! As scared as I was and am for him, that whatever it was in the dream just beeping and beeping started irritating the hell outta me! But he’s in trouble, Faith. I know he is and I’ve got to get to him.” Buffy knew it didn’t sound rational, but the dream had felt as real as though she’d been standing there, watching it all happen. She knew it was one of those horrible, prophetic slayer dreams.

“Okay. Say he is… Where you gonna go? How you gonna get there?”

“We have the Council credit card. I can rent a car. I think I need to go to LA.” Buffy tried to stay calm, but every second that passed seemed hours long and her anxiety started to swell again with each passing moment.

“Buffy… Hon, you’re one of the crappiest drivers I’ve ever known. And you’re gonna rent a car, with no drivers license, and drive six hours back to LA? I’m thinking… NOT!” Faith would have laughed had the situation not been so incredibly tense. She felt Buffy’s shoulders slump, resignation setting in… “Okay… Le’me call Wes, see if he knows anything. Anything at all, alright?”

Buffy looked directly at Faith for the first time since she’d awakened. The younger girl saw the swollen eyes, the tear stained cheeks and realized Buffy had lost weight in just the last few days. The blue-green eyes held a plea that Buffy simply couldn’t voice. “Okay. Thank you, Faith.” She sat down on the bed while Faith reached for the telephone.

~~

“Hey Fred… Yeah, it’s me. Is Wes around? Oh, he did? He DID!? Yeah, yeah. Do that… No, we’re coming there. Quick as I can drive it and stay legal…”

Faith hung up the phone. Buffy was tense, her body leaning awkwardly toward the brunette in her anxiousness to understand what had just happened.

“I take it all back, B. You were right. They tried a spell to find Spike, the amulet exploded… No! Wait! Don’t panic! They got a call from a local hospital. Somebody was found on the beach that sounds like Spike and he was asking for you and for Angel. Wes and Lindsey have gone to the hospital. Fred is there with Angel. We’re gonna get that car and I’ll drive you there. We gotta wake Willow and Robin.” Faith knew that Robin wasn’t going to be happy about the trip for several reasons. She really liked the man, but after what had happened between she and Wes… Well, she didn’t want to maintain their intimate relationship, if there might be anything with Wesley. She knew she missed the Watcher something awful most of the time. Feeling that way… well, it wasn’t fair to let Robin think otherwise, no matter how she’d joked about that four ‘F’ rule…

~*~

‘Spend all your time waiting for that second chance

For the break that will make it OK’

He struggled through the darkness that clung to him like heavy, wet velvet. There was a reason he had to find his way back to the surface of that thick blackness, even if he couldn’t remember why. A distant voice kept calling to him… two voices, actually, but they called different names… And he hurt! Every inch of his body hurt with a fierce, burning pain, filling his head with a pulsing throb that refused to be silenced.

One voice seemed closer, even though he wanted to answer the second voice instead. Struggling to open his eyes, Spike tried to throw an arm across his face to stem the brightness, but something was stuck to it, tangled around his arm.

“William, William, be still. You have an IV in your hand. You’re in the hospital.”

Wesley turned his head to growl a whisper at Lindsey, while he struggled to keep Spike from thrashing and ripping the tubing from his arm. “Stop her from opening that curtain! The sun’s up!”

Lindsey hurried around the bed, calling to the aid that was pulling the cord on the window curtains. She turned her head to look at him, while her hand continued to open the material and the bright dawn sunlight flooded through the room, across the bed and its occupant.

Shock stilled Lindsey’s hand in the act of reaching for the girl. Wesley gasped in a breath, forgetting momentarily to stop Spike from struggling and he managed to get an arm across his face, blocking the light from his eyes.

Both men expected to see the bleached blonde burst into flame or at least begin to smolder, as the sunlight bathed him, yet nothing happened. Nothing other than Wesley meeting Lindsey’s equally shocked eyes. “He’s… Lindsey, he’s…”

“Yeah… I kinda noticed…” Even his voice seemed to cringe from the word.

“Oh, bloody hell!” Wesley exclaimed softly.

“Hey! Can you be bleedin’ quiet? My head’s about to split like a melon and I hurt everywhe…” Spike’s comment simply trailed off as he took in the wash of daylight, the tubes and the beeping heart monitor connected to him. “Oh, Bloody HELL!”

~*~

Faith pulled out of the rest area and merged back into traffic. She looked down the highway for another tractor-trailer. Traffic had been light during the night and pre-dawn hours, so the semis were taking advantage of the scarcity of cars and the darkness to hurry along much faster than the posted speed limits, no matter what they were… Faith had found it simple to locate the fastest one and pull in behind them, following them along. Not that it helped her gas mileage, but she could hide behind them, letting the much larger truck be the one to catch the signal from any police radar. The smaller compact she and Buffy were in, could slow faster and avoid being stopped for a ticket. If she could continue in the same fashion, they’d make it to Los Angeles in a little more than two hours. They’d been traveling for about two hours now since renting the car, and slayer strength or stamina be damned, Faith was tired. She’d sat up watching Buffy most of the night, never imagining she’d have to make this excursion. Her eyes burned, felt sandy and she simply wanted to sleep. Buffy had offered to drive, but Faith turned the offer down. She also wanted to arrive in L.A. in one whole, undamaged piece!

“About two more hours, B, if we can keep this speed. Watch for a place with some coffee, will ya?” Faith tossed the now empty cup from the faux, coffee-like liquid she’d purchased at the rest stop, onto the back floorboards. The only portion of it that had even remotely resembled coffee had been the color and a modicum of caffeine.

“Sure. Thank you, Faith…” Buffy hadn’t spoken much since they’d left the hotel, renting the car across the street from the modest facility. They’d been lucky that both were next to the only airport, or more accurately, airfield, in the small town. Robin had been understanding of Buffy’s need to go to L.A. even though he’d not liked it. Willow had been adamant in her disapproval until Kennedy had almost picked her partner up physically and removed her from the room. “It’s almost dawn. The sun will be up…”

Faith glanced quickly toward Buffy, then back to the road in front of her. “Yeah. Ya know, I kinda think that’s what dawn means, B. The whole sun coming up again each morning… Is it a problem?”

“No. No, I have to tell myself that Wesley will keep him safe… won’t let them open the windows in the hospital room. He’s strong enough to endure indirect sunlight.” Buffy almost smiled when she remembered several of the occasions she’d been with the vampire during the day, but out of direct sun. The near-smile tried to turn into another sob, that she quickly suppressed, only a slight choked sound escaping as she turned back to gaze out the window, watching for somewhere they could get coffee…

~*~

‘Give me release
witness me
I am outside
give me peace
Heaven holds a sense of wonder
and I wanted to believe’

Lindsey closed the curtain and ushered the aid out of the room, firmly closing the door behind her, then walked to the far side of the bed where Spike lay.

“Spike, it is you, isn’t it?” Wesley asked the man in the bed. He looked like Spike, sounded like Spike, but he didn’t smolder in sunlight like Spike should have done. Then too there was the heart-monitor registering a very normally beating heart.

“’O course it is. You expectin’ the Easter Bunny? But how’d I get here and what have they done to me?” The blonde looked at the IV tubing taped to his arm, felt the coldness of the liquid where it entered his vein, fingered the circular patches attached to his chest with their multicolored wires running to the steadily beeping machine.

“I-I doubt the hospital has done more than tried to save you from what they felt were your injuries. Injuries that I assume occurred when we, Lindsey and I, released you from wherever you were… Where were you, Spike?” Wesley asked, completely avoiding the significance of the equipment.

“Like I bloody know…” Spike snorted slightly, lying back against the pillows. He still ached horribly. “I know the part of the ‘Liz Taylor Collection’ I was wearing turned me into a giant flashlight… without the off switch, mind you! I felt the light from it burning me from the inside, pinnin’ me to the ground where I was standin’ like a bug. It shot outta me like some… some… I don’t know like what, but it shot out, dustin’ all the uber vamps in the Hellmouth before it brought the whole place down on me. Good thing, I guess, that it had burned me to dust, or ash ‘fore all the tons of rock fell on me. Might ‘a hurt otherwise…” Spike knew he was being sarcastic. It was his stock trademark defense when he was afraid. Vampires weren’t supposed to be afraid, but right now his biggest fear and hope, was that he was no longer a vampire. “Found myself in some weird misty place, no real landscape, just strange colored shapes that kept changing. Only if I thought of somethin’ it seemed to just be there… Like Buffy’s house.” He was silent again as he remembered how lost and alone he’d felt there. He’d prowled the halls and rooms, the yard… Only a few feet away from the ordered yard, the weirdness had begun again.

“Except Buffy wasn’t there… Angel showed up to yell at me, ‘o course. Then the witch. But when I thought I was goin’ mad, Buffy was suddenly there.” Spike looked first at Lindsey, not knowing him, then turned back to Wesley. He might not like the poncy Watcher, but at least he knew him… Or thought he did. Didn’t look quite so poncy any more… Spike grabbed Wesley’s arm, needing the man to believe him, “She was real! As real as you are. I could touch her, kissed her. We… Well, let’s just say we got up close and personal. She was there, then suddenly just disappeared from my arms.”

Spike remembered, almost embarrassed, at how he’d howled in rage and frustration, how alone and lost he’d felt without her warmth next to him so suddenly.

“I do believe you, Spike. Oh, and before the doctor comes back, as I’m sure she will fairly soon, I told them you were my cousin, William…” Wesley wasn’t sure if he should list Spike under his own last name or not, unsure of what his human name had been.

“Suffolk. It was Suffolk.” Spike lapsed back into silence, unsure of how he knew what the Watcher had been wondering.

“Good. William Suffolk it is then. Lindsey…” Wesley nodded his head slightly to the shorter man on the opposite side of the bed, “And I researched the amulet after Angel found it in the crater where Sunnydale used to be. From what we read, the stone itself appears to have been created from a bit of material from another dimension, creating sort of a ‘pocket dimension’ within the crystal. There was a danger that it would explode if you were inside of it, as we believe. That would have opened a vortex between the two dimensions…” He saw Spike shudder, but continued, “…so we found enough information to create a ritual to release you. It seemed to have worked, even though we were unsure once the crystal exploded.”

“The cuts on your faces.” Both men nodded in response to Spike’s statement. “Must have worked, since I’m here. Place got bloody hot all of a sudden, felt like I was inside a furnace again, like being that bloody ‘flashlight’. Remember fallin’, hurting more than I can remember, and then darkness.” Spike looked slowly into the faces of each man, finally facing Wesley again. “What I wanna know, Watcher… is why didn’t the sunlight burn me? How did you find me here? Why didn’t the hospital think I was dead? And most of all, why do I have a heartbeat?”

~*~

‘Heaven holds a sense of wonder...
I can't help this longing
comfort me’

Faith pulled into the lot at the huge Wolfram and Hart building, parking the car. Buffy looked at her, questioningly.

“They were here last. Fred and Angel are still here, waiting for Wesley and Lindsey to return from the hospital and no; I don’t know which one. Besides, B, if I don’t get out of this car and get some sleep, I’m gonna start hurtin’ people myself before I pass out.” She followed word to deed, opening the door and stepping out of the car, stretching until she heard joints pop, easing some of the tension that filled her. The sheer exhaustion remained though. Buffy exited from the passenger side, closing the door. The blonde slayer was also tired, but it was more of a tiredness of spirit, rather than body. But sitting in a car for almost five hours with Faith driving, wasn’t one of the more relaxing things Buffy could remember. And she was anxious to get inside and find someone; anyone to tell her what was going on, if Spike was safe.

The large front doors were locked, as expected. It was barely seven am. Faith banged on the door until the uniformed Security guard came over, telling them they were closed. “You know, dude, I can see that. But this is an emergency and if you don’t open this door and tell me where to find Angel or Wesley, I’ll open the door.”

Buffy saw the man’s hand, like slow motion under water, as he reached for the holster with his gun at Faith’s threat. She didn’t stop to think, simply lashed out, kicking through the door, catching the guard in the stomach, propelling him across the lobby where he struck the marble wall, sliding down it into an unconscious heap on the floor.

Faith looked at Buffy, a sardonic grin on her face, “Or we can just open the door anyway…” The brunette stepped carefully through the hole in the broken glass, unlocking the door to let Buffy in, before locking it once more. “Wanna shove that desk over to me, B? Might not be a good idea to leave this just open, with our little guard unconscious…”

“Yeah.” Buffy upended the desk, spilling pamphlets, flowers and whatever else to the floor, pushing the desk into place across the gaping hole. “Any idea how to turn off that damned alarm?”

“Nope. Not a one. But it will get someone’s attention for us.”

“It’s done that. Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you wanna tell me why you felt the need to break the door in, Faith?” Angel stood there, arms crossed, looking angry and more brooding than usual.

“Sorry, Dude. Not me this time.” Faith inclined her head toward Buffy.

Angel ran the few steps across the room, pulling Buffy into his arms. She automatically wrapped her arms around him, clinging to the one island of safety and familiarity currently in her world. “Fred… The alarms?” Angel called back to the slightly built woman that had stood beside him before he’d rushed to Buffy. Belatedly, Fred hurried to push the controls on the guard’s station before going to the man, relieved to find he was only unconscious. She pushed the buttons on the guard’s radio and called for a medical team and a new security guard.

Faith stood, arms crossed, watching Slayer and vampire cling to each other.

“So how’s it that you can stand here in the sunlight, Angel? And what’s up with the amulet? Which hospital did Wesley and Lindsey go to, anyway?”

“Huh?” Angel looked across Buffy’s head at Faith. “How…?”

Faith reached into her pocket, pulling out a small flip cell phone as she grinned at the vampire. “The miracles of modern technology. Maybe you’ve heard of a few of ‘em?”

Angel turned away from Faith to look toward Fred, still on the far side of the room. “Wanna tell me why they went to a hospital and which one?”

~*~

“So other than the burns, which will heal as a matter of course, is there any reason we can not take my cousin with us?” Wesley asked very pointedly of Dr. Alexander, after she’d ignored all his hints about Spike leaving.

The doctor looked the three men over, appraising, weighing, considering… “I don’t suppose there is any reason. We’d prefer to observe him for any undetected injury, but I assume you can bring him back or get him to your own personal physician should that happen. His toxicology screen was negative for everything. In fact, other than the burns and that he was unconscious…” The doctor stressed the word, “He appears to be perfectly healthy, if a bit anemic. I can give him a prescription for some specific iron supplements and make a few dietary recommendations. A good meal would be the initial suggestion.” She looked from one man to the other, meeting the all too innocent faces of all three of them, knowing whatever they were not telling her, they were concealing too well to be able to detect even a clue. “I’ll send the nurse to disconnect the monitor and remove the IV. One of you might want to go handle the paperwork and bill with admissions?”

“Quite so. Thank you, Doctor Alexander. I know the rest of the family will be much relieved when I can assure them that William is safe and they can actually speak to him themselves.” Wesley looked across the bed at Lindsey, “Can you handle the papers for me? Use the Corporate account. I know you remember the numbers.”

Lindsey grinned in agreement as he walked around the bed and out of the room.

Only moments after the doctor followed the lawyer from the room, a nurse entered, chattering away as she turned off machines, unplugged wires, pulled IV needles, then bandaged the small remaining wound. She handed a sheaf of forms and instructions to Wesley, refusing to be deterred from explaining each one of them, until Spike reached over, laying a hand on her shoulder. “We can manage a few burns. I’d like to get dressed now, so if you don’t really wanna look at my arse, you might wanna leave.” Tossing back the covers, Spike caught the edge of the hospital gown, flashing the room before he stood.

The nurse pursed her mouth in disapproval, but Wesley noted she’d not looked away.

Spike opened the small cupboard that passed as a closet for the bed he’d occupied and frowned at his damp jeans and shirt, the water stains on his leather coat, but pulled them all on anyway. Wesley assured him they’d stop to pick him up a few things on the way back to the office.

Within a few minutes, they’d found Lindsey just as he finished the paperwork and headed toward the doors. Wesley and Spike hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open into the direct sunlight. Taking a deep breath, Spike stepped outside, turning his face to the light, closing his eyes to savor the feeling of the light, the warmth on his skin.

Wesley and Lindsey shared a troubled look behind Spike’s back.

~*~

Angel sat alone in the smaller office they’d used earlier for the ritual with the amulet. Fred had taken Buffy and Faith to the women’s lounge, so the two could shower. Fred assured them she’d locate some fresh clothing for them both, then they could grab a bite to eat and a nap.

The vampire was disturbed by the explanations the two slayers, mostly Faith, had given him regarding the entire convoluted matter with Spike and the amulet. He and Fred had offered explanations as to the events from their side, but Angel noticed the covert glances Fred kept darting his way from beneath her lashes. The woman was not telling any of them everything she knew about this whole disastrous mess.

While he contemplated the possibilities of what else was happening, Angel refused to think of it as brooding, Wesley and Lindsey walked back in the door with Spike between them. Angel took in the familiar coat, now stained in places with salt-water and grains of sand, the familiar jeans and shirt, both of which were new by the scent of the fabric dye. He also heard the distinct sound of not two, but three sets of heartbeats and looking more closely, saw that Spike was breathing. A towering rage filled the older vampire in an instant, almost obscuring his vision as he literally could only ‘see red’. With a snarling growl as his face morphed, Angel launched himself directly at Spike, intent on the most damage he could inflict.

Wesley saw the emotions cross Angel’s face, saw the tenseness fill the vampire’s shoulders, the face change as Angel flung himself toward Spike. An icy fear filled him for the blonde man’s safety, but the next instant, there was a crackle of green fire that erupted from Spike’s bandaged hands, enveloping Angel in a nimbus of coruscating light that flung the vampire across the room, slamming him against the wall moments before Spike collapsed to the floor where he stood.

~*~

‘Open the doors that lead on into eden

Don't want no cheap disguise

I follow the signs marked back to the beginning

No more compromise

And into the fire

I'm reunited

Into the fire

I am the spark’

Of course, Buffy and Faith arrived just in time to witness Spike’s collapse. Buffy rushed to his side, hampering Wesley and Lindsey’s attempts to check him. Faith caught Wesley’s eye, and he shook his head slightly, then inclined it toward Angel, inside the room. Jumping the confusion at the doorway, Faith went to check on the vampire.

Pushing the two men out of the way, Buffy lifted Spike in her arms, stepping inside the room to lay him on the dark leather sofa before turning back to them, anger almost blazing from every pore, “What have you done to him? How did he get here?”

The anger drained from her as quickly as it had filled her, and she fell, sitting on the side of the sofa beside Spike, gently taking his bandaged hand between her own as she gazed at his face, drinking in the sight of him.

Wesley knew better than to touch her at all, considering the volatile mood the Slayer was in currently. He could only imagine the emotional torture she’d endured.

“Buffy, if you will let us to him, we’ll check him over. He’d only just collapsed, which I rather suspect was brought on by what appeared to be a sudden burst of some sort of energy from him.”

“Why, Wesley? What caused it?” Buffy remained where she was seated, holding Spike’s hand.

“Probably instinct. Angel was attacking him. I’m Lindsey McDonald.” He held out his hand toward her. Not that he expected the woman to stop and shake hands with him, but because he knew the offer would distract her, which it did.

“And why would Angel attack Spike?” The curling edge of anger turned her words to a growl again, the anger aimed at this unknown man.

“Please, step out into the hallway with me, Buffy. Let me explain everything I know while Wesley checks Spike. We did just bring him from the hospital…” Lindsey backed away, hoping she would follow. Buffy did reluctantly release Spike’s hand, beseeching Wesley with her eyes, asking him to care for Spike, before she turned suddenly agate-hard green eyes back to the carefully retreating lawyer, then rose to follow him from the room.

~~

‘And won't believe what sensible people say
And because these daft and dewey-eyed dopes
Keep building up impossible hopes
Impossible things are happening every day’

Three-quarters of an hour later found the small office filled with one vampire, one seemingly former vampire, one Lawyer, one Watcher, one demon, two Slayers, and a scientist. It seemed all they were lacking was a coach and six white horses.

Buffy sat beside Spike, the pair holding hands, while Angel glared at them. Wesley and Faith sat beside each other, the warm length of their thighs pressed close together. The rest of the group was spread out as much as possible through the small room, but none of them wanted to be near Angel, uncertain as they were of the vampire’s temper. Or perhaps it was more that they were sure he was very angry, and unsure as to what he might do.

Wesley, Lindsey, Lorne and even Fred, added portions of the explanation where a living, breathing, magick-wielding Spike was the end result.

Perhaps five minutes into the explanations, Angel brusquely interrupted, to tell Wesley, “Get her in here. Now.” The Watcher understood perfectly who Angel meant and only minutes later, Security escorted an extremely disheveled Lilah into their midst. She in turn, glared at Wesley and Faith, while looking surprised to see Lindsey, and smug as she glanced at Angel. Whatever she saw in the vampire’s eyes didn’t bode well for her, and she took a seat, trying to disappear into the upholstery.

“Alright, Wesley. Please continue now. I just want Lilah to hear this and confirm as much as she knows.” The look Angel gave her said more plainly than words that he believed she knew most of what was about to be disclosed. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that to be true or not. If it was true, she cringed to even consider what Angel might do to her. However, if it wasn’t, he’d never believe her anyway, at this point, and whatever he inflicted on her would at least get her out of that infernal closet with it’s twice be-damned bucket where Wesley had locked her. She’d begun to realize what a fool she’d been for ever thinking the Watcher was weak.

Over the course of the next hour, they all learned about the amulet.

It seemed that in some unknown way, a portion of another dimension had been gathered and fashioned into the crystal of the amulet. The setting had been the repository for the magick that held it intact, activated it and allowed it to function as a trap-matrix, pulling the wearer into the self-contained pocket dimension. But the crystal had been permeated with magickal essence, the raw stuff of chaos, and that was what Spike had learned to manipulate, creating the likeness of Buffy’s house, and everything else he’d needed while there. Spike was now inseparable from that same energy, for while in the crystal trap, he’d absorbed it into himself unknowingly.

The activation of the stone to close the Hellmouth, even though none of them fully understood how the activation had actually begun, had started a slow but finite chain reaction between the amulet and this dimension, which undiscovered, would have exploded, as most of them had understood before the ritual, opening a vortex between the two dimensions. Had Spike remained inside the crystal when that had occurred, the uncontrolled release of energy would have destroyed him, whereas the ritually controlled released effected by Wesley and Lindsey, had allowed him to be expelled instead. That same ritual, combined with the magickal essence Spike now contained, appeared to be what had reformed the former vampire as a living, breathing, human being, still filled with the magick from the crystal. Where it had previously been the vessel that contained the forces and Spike; it seemed now that Spike himself was the vessel for the magick.

Angel relaxed only slightly at hearing the explanations. It seemed that Spike hadn’t gotten the results of the Shanshu Prophecy… they thought. But it was strictly conjecture, as no one understood how the actual prophecy was supposed to take place.

However, if Lilah could be believed, the Senior Partners were aware that the user of the amulet would either be trapped or destroyed and the mystical object would later self-destruct. Had the SP’s even suspected any possibility of the item being recovered and inactivated as happened, Angel would have been the last person they would have given the amulet, so the overall feeling was that Spike’s resurrection had no bearing on the Shanshu Prophecy.

But Shanshu or no, Angel was all too aware that Spike and Buffy were truly in love with each other. Now that the former vampire was human, or as human as Buffy herself, Angel knew the small blonde slayer was lost to him. And while he knew she’d always care about him, the ‘friend’ speech was not one he wanted to hear from her.

‘Best to just let her go. Spike does love her and even as crazy as Druscilla was, he was completely faithful to her for a hundred years. I doubt he’ll be any less with Buffy. We may not like each other, but once he gives his loyalty, it’s permanent. Unless it’s deliberately destroyed like I did to him…’ Angel stood slowly, hesitating a moment before he walked across the room to where Buffy and Spike sat together.

“Angel…” Buffy wasn’t sure what to say, but felt he deserved an explanation, not that they’d had a shortage of those for the last couple of hours…

“No. Buffy, I’m not blind. I knew when I was in Sunnydale that there was something… I mean, after all, I could smell him all over you… But that’s not the point… I know I left you, wanted you to find someone normal, have a normal life. It was unrealistic on my part, you being a Slayer… But Spike’s human now and you love each other. I know he’s loyal, faithful…”

Spike interrupted, rather indignantly. “Don’t have to make me sound like a bleedin’ lap dog, Peaches!”

Angel smiled somewhat lop-sided, “I was thinking more Rottweiler, actually, Spike. But truthfully, Buffy, I know he’ll take care of you.” Angel turned slightly to glare at Spike again, “’Cause if he doesn’t, he’ll be answering to me!”

Thinking of an excellent object lesson for the arrogant bleached blonde, Angel casually remarked, “Oh! Excuse me for a moment. I forgot something I need to handle.”

Walking the few steps back to Lilah, the vampire tossed a quick “Sorry” at Wesley, then grabbed Lilah by the throat, lifting her from the chair. “I think I need to make a point to the Senior Partners as well as any other employees here that might get ideas I don’t care for… I know word will get around.” Angel tightened his hand suddenly, snapping her head back with the other hand. There was a sharp crack that reverberated through the room, then he dropped Lilah’s limp body back into the chair.

Most of the collected group in the room looked on somewhat surprised, but Buffy and Spike wore an expression of outraged shock. Angel held up a hand, forestalling any comments, “She was already dead. Wesley had even cut her head off previously.”

Lindsey saw the disbelieving looks and came to Angel’s rescue. “No, it’s true, Buffy, Spike. The Senior Partners could keep her working for them for the full terms of her initial contract if they wanted to, even past her death. I knew about her death from Wesley.”

“Thank you, Lindsey.” Spike turned from the lawyer to the vampire. “You made your point, Angel. But it was un-necessary. Besides, I’m sure you remember that I can still defend myself even now.”

“I do, Spike. But I’d promised Lilah that… Let’s just leave it at that, all right? I’d like to ask a favor of you, Spike. Please?”

Buffy and Spike joined the other startled looks at the vampire. All of them understood how much it had cost him to ask any favor from Spike, especially one that rated a ‘please’. “Alright, Angel. Why don’t we step out of this crowd and discuss it.”

~*~

‘but I fear

I have nothing to give.

I have so much to lose.

I have nothing to give.

We have so much to lose...’

Spike stood beside the bed, as the green fire of his magick played over Cordelia’s motionless body. He might not understand the full limits of this new part of him, but he understood enough to know what he was detecting. He raised a stricken face to look at Angel. He had no words that were enough to express his sorrow. “Angel… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I-I can’t save her for you. The damage… There is so little left… of… of her.”

Angel hung his head, covering his face with his hands. Buffy pulled him into her embrace, trying to offer what measure of comfort she could. Turning her head to look over her shoulder at Spike, she appealed mutely to her lover to try anything…

“Angel, I may can give you a few moments… But afterwards… she’ll… I’m sorry.” Spike felt helpless, understood Angel’s anguish all too well. He’d endured it, barely existing after…

“Do it, Spike. While there is still something there, even a few moments worth.”

Stepping away from Buffy, Angel moved closer to the bed, waiting.

The green fire crackled between Spike’s hands and Cordelia’s body, as he played them up and down the length of the still form. He remembered her, full of life, full of ‘piss and vinegar’…

A shape appeared in front of Angel, wavering at first, but as it filled out, Cordelia stood there, slightly glowing. “Angel!” She threw herself into his arms; kissing him with all of the passion she’d never been able to show him previously.

“Cordy…” Angel broke the kiss. He had to tell her… had to make sure she knew.

“Shhhhh! It’s alright, Angel. I know what’s happening. I was so afraid… Afraid I’d never be able to tell you that I love you. That I’ve loved you for so long. I was just too stubborn to realize it.”

Her comment caused Buffy to look at Spike, only to find the gaze returned. Buffy knew she’d also been too stubborn, had waited almost too long, but now she had a second chance, something Angel and Cordelia were denied.

“I love you, Cordy. I know none of it was you. I love you.” Angel kissed her again. Kissed her as though they would crawl through each other from the mouth down.

Gasping for breath, Cordy broke the kiss, “I don’t suppose you can… all grr?”

An incredible heaviness settled deep inside him as Angel slowly shook his head, unwilling to admit that even turning her wouldn’t help him save her, but Cordelia deserved an explanation. “When… Jasmine… She drained your life-force, Cordy. So much of you… You’d be little more than an empty shell, Love.”

“Well, I didn’t think so, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.” Cordelia looked back at his stricken face, “Hey! It’s okay. I know how bad the damage is… I might be over here, but I can feel it over there. I get to tell you how much I love you, how happy you’ve made me over the last few years, to finally kiss you… It’s more than I expected to ever have, Angel.”

“Cordy, how will I…” She shushed Angel’s words with her lips against his.

“You can make it without me because I’ll always be with you.” She laid her fingertips to his chest, “I’ll be right here, because you love me.” Cordelia turned to look at Spike, saw the strain on his face as he held the green flames around her body. “I don’t know how you did this, Spike, but I can never thank you enough. Maybe I’ll meet someone that can though…” She flashed him a smile before turning back to Angel.

“Angel, he can’t hold this much longer. Kiss me again and tell me you love me.”

Angel needed no further encouragement. They both were breathless after the kiss. “I love you, Cordelia, I love you.” He turned stricken eyes to Spike; saw the man’s pain as he held the magick. “It’s not long enough…”

Cordelia turned his face back to her, a finger under his chin. “Angel, it’s more than we expected once this started. How’d that movie go? Whatever… just remember that we got to share more love in these few moments than most people get to share in a lifetime. I love you.” She gently pulled out of his arms, sitting down into her own body, before turning to lie down once more. Angel saw the pain wash through her face, seconds before Spike collapsed to the floor. Buffy rushed to Spike as Angel gathered Cordelia into his arms, hearing the last breath escape her body and kissed her, catching that breath into himself.

~*~

‘cold, and bitter

it's chilled us to the bone

we haven't seen the sun for weeks

to long too far from home

I feel just like I'm sinking

and I claw for solid ground

I'm pulled down by the undertow

I never thought I could feel so low

oh darkness I feel like letting go

If all of the strength and all of the courage

come and lift me from this place

I know I could love you much better than this

full of grace

full of grace

my love’

The morning of Cordelia’s funeral, it rained. Those that had known the brunette for so many years, had been touched by her during their life, felt it appropriate that the sky weep for her as well. But the rain stopped, and the clouds cleared away as they arrived at the cemetery. Wesley parked beneath the trees and held a huge umbrella, as did Faith, Buffy and Spike; all of them over-lapped to shelter Angel in their midst, protecting him from any stray beam of sunlight.

The minister was finishing the rituals, “We commend the spirit of Cordelia Chase to heaven…” when the last clouds parted, and a bright rainbow shimmered across the crisp blue sky, its far end touching out across the ocean.

‘I will remember you

Will you remember me?

Don't let your life pass you by

Weep not for the memories

Remember the good times that we had

I let them slip away from us when things got bad

How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun

Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one

I will remember you’

Angel was finally in slightly better spirits. While Buffy, Faith and Fred had cleaned out Cordelia’s belongings, Buffy had found an unusual necklace. There was a carved circle of some yellow, purple and clear stone. In the open center of it was a small teardrop of a rich pink stone. Suspended from the main circle was an odd pink, white and green stone shaped like a small pyramid. It was unusual as well as beautiful. It lay in a small round box of carved cedar wood that smelled heavenly. Buffy took the box and the necklace to Wesley, curious as to what it might be. It didn’t look like something Cordelia would normally wear. “Wes, we found this with Cordy’s things. It looks different than anything I’ve ever known her to wear, but I know her tastes might have changed the last few years. Actually I was hoping it might be something that Angel might like… of her’s… you know.”

“I think that’s exactly what it is, Buffy.” Wesley was obviously excited by the discovery. “See this main stone, the one with the purple. It’s Ametrine, a mix of Amethyst and Citrine. It’s believed to bring clear thoughts and healing. The pink one in the middle is rose quartz. It’s often called the Lover’s stone and is said to help emotional healing. The…”

Lorne interrupted from the doorway, “The bottom stone will be Apophyllite and probably pyramid shaped to focus all the energies.” The green skinned demon stepped over to Wesley, gently taking the necklace from him. “It’s used for a different kind of healing, to help remember lessons learned, balance the lower and higher selves and some people believe it can be used to contact the angelic or spiritual realms as well as traverse the dimensions. It was in a box of cedar wood, right?”

“Why, yes. How do you know all this Lorne? Did you give the necklace to Cordelia?” Wesley was intensely curious.

Lorne just shook his head and sighed. “I think we’re looking at another of Cordelia’s visions. This comes from Pylea. She had to have gotten it while she was there. She bought it for Angel. See, the box and the cording on it? It’s made for a man.”

“Are you saying that she knew what was going to happen to her?” Buffy asked the demon. In his own way, he reminded her of Clem and she’d grown as fond of him as she was of the ‘shar-pei skinned’ demon. She’d not seen him since before the battle with the First and hoped he was doing well, wherever he was.

“Maybe not everything or how it would all play out, but she knew she was going to be gone, most likely dead. She may have thought it was because of the visions… But this is for Angel.” Lorne sighed heavily again.

“Let’s go give it to him. You better explain it. I’ll never remember all that.” Wesley took Lorne by one arm and Buffy by the other.

Angel was in his office. He had papers strewn across his desk, but was talking with Spike, lounging on the sofa.

They gave the necklace to Angel, as Lorne and Wesley explained it. Buffy finally took it from the men and clasped it around Angel’s throat. It was a perfect fit, the coolness of the stones resting in the hollow of his throat. Moments later, Angel held up a hand for quiet, his face startled…

‘Took them long enough to find the damned thing! And you! Why do I have to fall for the really dense guys? You’re a vampire, you’re supposed to know all this zippidy-doo-dah magick stuff! Told you I’d be with you, love. Miss you…’

It was a while before Angel got to explain.

~*~

Wesley and Faith came to an understanding before she had to leave with Buffy and Spike. They had to take the rental car back and meet back up with Willow, Kennedy and Robin. Giles, in England had been champing at the bit until they explained what had happened.

Angel was better, even if quite a few people thought him a bit daft, seemingly talking to himself. He also had a new liaison for the Senior Partners. They apparently had gotten tired of putting Lilah’s head back on…

Buffy and Spike were happy together and Buffy would be even happier when he learned more about how to manage the magick that filled him. She felt sure that between Giles and Willow, they’d get him in shape in no time…

At least, she certainly hoped so…

‘Life is a road and I wanna keep going

Love is a river I wanna keep going on

Starting out on a journey

Life is a road and I wanna keep going

Love is a river and I wanna keep flowing

In the end I wanna be standing

At the beginning with you’

Gillian Silverlight 02/08/04