~*Your Presence Still Lingers Here*~

“Never stop Spike...never stop loving me...never stop...”

Spike awoke abruptly to the sound of her voice, the sound of Buffy’s voice. It was haunting him severely. He had been brought back human, five years ago by the coven in England. They had never told him why, but they did say that it was a very important reason that he would someday discover.

Now living in Yorkshire, England with his wife Bessie, Spike was slowly adjusting to his new life as a human, and pretty much his new life all together. His new life without Buffy Summers. He got up out of bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen where he got himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table.

Just recently he had been having the awakening dreams. Every night for the past two weeks he’d see her face for the last time, the time she confessed her love to him and he denied that she was telling the truth. Tonight was a little different though, when he saw her face she said something different. “Never stop Spike...never stop loving me...never stop...”

He hadn’t heard anything about her since that day, May 20th 2003, back in Sunnydale. The coven wouldn’t tell him anything about her, wouldn’t tell him if she’d made it out of the school in time or not. He tried contacting every one of the Scooby’s with not an ounce of luck. Eventually he stopped trying and figured he should at least try and move on with his life.

A few tears escaped his eyes as he sipped his coffee and sat in the moonlight shining through the window. He thought about what she’d be doing right now if she was in fact alive. It was 3AM there... in California there would be about an 8 hour difference, making it 11AM. He saw her in the kitchen, lively and awake, cooking breakfast for herself. Dawn would be attending college maybe, so Buffy was alone... or was she? Maybe she had met someone new also.

A twinge of pain struck his now beating heart. Wondering how he could have let things turn out like this. He missed Buffy so much. He was startled from his thoughts when his wife touched his shoulder. “Buffy?!” He jumped and whipped around. “Oh god, Bess, sorry Luv, I was just thinking about...”

“It’s all right, Will. Are you all right? I heard you get up, I was worried you were ill.” Bessie was a very understanding wife. Spike had told her all about Sunnydale, even the part how he had died there. She was an ex-coven member and she knew a lot about what happened before he had told her. She called him Will, too. No one else ever had. Made him feel more human.

He sighed and took another drink of his coffee. “I ‘spose so. Just couldn’t sleep is all. Go back to bed, Luv.” He hadn’t told her of the dreams he’d been having about Buffy. It was agreed upon that if he had problems such as dreams, he would see a therapist to help get the thoughts out of his mind. He didn’t want to see a therapist, not for a few dreams. Or were they just dreams?

“You sure you’re not ill?” She rubbed his shoulders lightly; Spike was thanking the lord she hadn’t seen the stream of tears on his cheeks that would have stirred up more questions.

“I’m fine. Now get back to bed; you’re up early tomorrow for that seminar remember?” Being honest with himself, at that moment he could care less about whether or not she got sleep, he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts and the moonlight.

----

8 AM rolled around very quickly; Spike had fallen asleep at the table. Only to be awaken by the rays of the sun in his eyes. “Bloody hell...” He murmured when he’d realized where he had woken up. Quickly he went upstairs and dressed in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, hoping to look like he was half-awake. He shook Bessie’s shoulder. “Bess, Luv, you’ve gotta be up. Seminar starts in...” Spike glanced at the clock, which now read 8:46. Bessie’s seminar that was meant to be with the coven, would have ended in ten minutes. That was odd, she’d never been late for something that important to her.

“Hmm? Oh...” She yawned and slowly sat up. “What time is it?” She asked tiredly, looking at the clock. “Bloody hell it’s nearly 9! I’ve missed it!” She jumped up out of bed. Spike just mysteriously watching her. He could tell she was mad. She rarely used the phrase ‘Bloody hell’. “My alarm was set, why didn’t it go off?” She looked at Spike, dressed as if he’d been up a while. “You’ve been up for ages why didn’t you wake me sooner?!”

“Hey now.. calm down, Bess, I..” He attempted to sooth her anger, but apparently that wasn’t going to work very well.

“Calm down? Spike have you got any clue how important it was that I be at that meeting? It could have gotten to be back into the coven!” She was furious, she never called him Spike unless she was mad. Very mad. A year before Spike had been brought back; she was fired for a wrongfully accused theft of an important prophecy book. The case was just getting finished up and it was being decided today whether or not that she would be allowed to reenter the coven.

Spike stayed quiet after that. If only he’d stayed in his nightclothes she wouldn’t have accused him of not waking her earlier. He always got himself in some sort of a mess with her over something or other. He watched as she ran a brush through her stick-straight brown hair, swipe lip gloss over her lips and quickly throw on an outfit. Only to run downstairs and out the door without saying goodbye.

She was understanding, but he didn’t understand her sometimes that was for sure. But he loved her, and that was all that counted in his book. He sat on their bed and looked in the mirror across the room at his reflection, letting his mind wander off somewhere far away...

“I’ve missed you.” She said as she sat behind him on the bed, putting her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulder. She smelled of vanilla and honey, sweet as always. “You’ve been gone a while you know, I was worried.” She whispered into his ear.

“Missed you too, Kitten.” When he went to turn around in order to embrace her, she was gone no sooner than she had appeared. Spike stood up and rubbed his eyes. “Get a grip mate, you’re letting your imagination go a little off the hinges.”

----

The rest of the day he paced blankly around the house, unable to get Buffy off of his mind. Maybe he did need a shrink after all. Of course, he was too stubborn to admit that. Spotting Bessie’s laptop computer open on the dining room table, and sat in front of it and switched it on, determined to find something, anything, on the demise of Sunnydale.

He searched the web for what seemed like hours, only to find old school records of Buffy’s. He sighed and heard Bess come in, he quickly closed her laptop and got up to greet her. “Everything turn out all right?” He was curious why she was gone all bloody day.

“Of course not. I went for some shopping when I realized I’d never have a decent career again.” She smiled. “And I bought you something.” From a big brown bag she pulled out a brand new, floor-length, leather duster and handed it to him.

Spike grinned, it’d had been so long since he’d even seen a duster that remotely resembled his old one. This one...was almost exact. He took it from her hands and instantly a crashing wave of memories surged through his entire being. He had a terrified expression on his face as he saw flash before him every bad thing that had ever happened to him while wearing that duster... from snapping his first slayer’s neck, to turning to dust within the Hell Mouth of Sunnydale. After that, he went out cold.

Some time later, Spike opened his eyes; he felt a cool cloth on his forehead and could see Bess sitting beside him holding the cloth on his forehead as he lay on the couch. She was great like that. “You’ve been out for quite a bit, Will. Shame about the duster, it got a mighty big tear in it when you fell. I’m just glad you’re awake now thought, dear.”

Something about this life was suddenly not feeling right to Spike, not one bloody bit. He wasn’t meant to be with this woman, he wasn’t meant to live in England and he certainly was sure he shouldn’t be living in such a giant house. He’d envisioned an apartment once, decorated with leather sofas and hard wood floors, but never anything this...Victorian.

Next he began to question if he really loved Besselyn Roberts. Was he just using her as an alternative to the real love of his life? He hated himself for thinking that, but something told him that was the truth. He couldn’t live with any of these thoughts, never in a thousand years could he. Something had to be done, and he needed to know if Buffy was alive.


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