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Author's Chapter Notes:
Some cluse to my next fic (which I am currently planning) are included in this chapter. Please review.
IN THE INTERREGNUM

The peace of this place had been disturbed by her unruly emotions. There was no reasoning with this child. Even the miracle of transcendence had failed to change her obstinate soul.

The spirit addressed her again, with infinite patience, "But child, it's never been done. Ever. We do not lower ourselves to mingle with..." the voice sounded as if it had been forced to ingest something rancid, "them. Not even for a purpose as laudable as this. The very idea is just distasteful, to us."

She threw up her hands in surrender, "Okay, so thinking outside the box isn't such a good idea here. I get that. Won't happen again, I swear. But, were you looking at that disaster? I know I broke the rules trying to give him a heads up. But, I honestly didn't think he'd join their side!"

"There are no sides, child. There is only a continuum by degrees. You should have been told this when you transcended."

"I was," she sighed, "I thought you'd make an exception in this case."

"He has been given everything he needs. He has made his choice. It cannot be undone," she felt a hand on her shoulder, "We understand your sadness and wish he'd chosen differently. We did have hope for that one."

The wheels were turning inside her head, "But, there is precedent for what I'm asking. You've done it before. I read about it once."

"That is true. It did happen, but never again in all the eons of time. And that was a special dispensation."

"Angel is a special case!" she pleaded, "You saw that. That wasn't a choice! That was desperation. You took everything from him. How did you think he was going to react?"

"It doesn't matter child, it's done. And, it cannot be undone."

"Please," Cordilia cried, "I'd get on my knees if I thought it would help. I know it's only been done once before and it probably will never be done again, but I know the Champion's still under all that hurt. You've got to let me help him find the reason again. Please?"

"What you ask will be extremely harsh. If we allow this, some who would not otherwise, will be unduly injured. The savior of their world might never come to be if we tamper with the forces that are in place now, because of that one's choice. What would you have us tell them, should they ask after the cause of their injuries?"

Cordilia was confused, "But you said the destroyer would be born. That's happened already. Believe me, I remember. Angel stopped Jasmine."

"That is not the destroyer we speak of. The destroyer still lives, as it should be. If one does not exist, then the other cannot come to be. This is how it must be. This is how it is. If you seek to toy with the fabric of the universe, how will you justify such folly? If the child is not, then the world will not."

"Stop talking in riddles! A person could get seasick from all this doubletalk. Has this dark ugly thing happened yet, or hasn't it?

"There is no future or past. Here, there is only the now."

"Great, more riddles. Look, if the cosmos ends up with egg on its face, tell whoever, or whatever's in charge of the whole mess that it was my fault, okay? I'll take the blame. I'm asking you for your help."

The spirit took pity, "Very well. It shall be done.
****************************
PRESENT DAY-LOS ANGELES

"Love," he said warily, "this is a Viper, not a station wagon. Are you sure you can handle having that kind of power under you?"

Buffy gave him a sidelong glance, "It's not like I'm not used to it. I rode this kind of power before," she smirked, "I made it do what I wanted. How is this different?"

Spike hadn't realized until now, just how much he missed her, "This is much different, Love."

"I know," Buffy said, "I was just teasing. Now, drink all that pig's blood. If we're sparring, I don't want you to fold after the first few punches. I have to be on top of my game. Where is this place anyway?"

"It's on Jennings. There shouldn't be much traffic. This weather tends to keep people in. It should be at the next crossroads," he strained to see past the driving rain and the messy smear of the windshield wiper, "There."

Buffy drove past the private property sign, nodded toward it, commenting, "At least Drusilla will need an invitation before she can ambush us here," and parked the car as close to the closed garage door as she could possibly get, and cut the engine.

Just as the engine stopped, the automatic door on the garage floated up to reveal George, sitting near the entrance with a smile on her face.

Buffy got out first, and greeted the petite brunette, "Thanks again for letting us use your place."

George smiled and shook her head, tossing Buffy the key ring, as she said, "It's yours now. Gina's Garage has relocated to greener pastures.

Spike was surprised by this, "You sure, George? That's got to cost you quite a few quid."

George shrugged, "Hey, what can I say? I'm a trust fund baby. What good's millions of dollars if you can't waste it with conspicuous spending on real estate? Look at Donald Trump."

Spike shook his head, "George you shouldn't have."

"Hey, what am I gonna do with it? Besides, it's not a garage anymore," she gave Spike a wide grin, "Well, there is one car in there. The rest of the place has been converted into a dojo. For you to work out in."

"George, when did this happen?"

She shrugged again, "I've been busy these past few months. Spike, you know I only became a mechanic to piss my Dad off," she blushed a little, "I was hoping you'd be back, Spike. I'm an incurable romantic," she winked, "I knew you'd be back. People like us, we're too tough to give up."

Buffy and Spike slowly made their way into the garage.

Spike was really impressed by her attention to detail. There were a few touches that were George's but the rest of the décor came from his own memory. He remembered telling George about Buffy. He spent hours reliving how they had spent hours in the training room of the Magic Box. He told George every detail. Every weapon she used, how she moved, he told George everything.

And God bless her. She listened. She really listened.

In a fit of jubilance Spike spun Georgina's wheelchair around until they were both pleasantly dizzy, "George, you're the hottest thing on four wheels, you know that?"

"Take it easy Spike, or you'll be needing to sit down," she craned her neck back to look at him, "You haven't seen the car yet. After you see her, then we'll talk about which one of us is hotter, okay?"

"All right, Love. Just where is this little trollop?" he teased.

"She's in the next bay," she said, "She's not authentic, I added the necro-tempered glass, but she is as close to the real thing as I could get. So, if something's off, be nice, would you?"

"Always Love."

Buffy watched as Spike slowly limped through the breezeway that connected the two parts of the building, with George following a respectful distance behind him. She could almost feel his excitement as he beheld what was waiting for him.

"Oh, my God. George, where on earth did you find her?" he gasped as if he'd just caught sight of the most beautiful thing in the world. He turned slowly back toward Buffy, his eyes wide with appreciation, "She's perfect, Buffy. Everything about her is just like I remembered."

"Well, she should be," George grinned, "You certainly talked about her enough. Still won't tell me how you lost her. Maybe I could have salvaged her for you," she paused to study the boyish wonder that glowed through his eyes. He always got that look when he'd talk about that car. Or, when he'd talk about Buffy, "Of course, if you'd rather have the Viper, I can have Mike hook this one back onto the tow truck..."

" No! I don't want that sodding car! This is the perfect gift, George, really. As for telling you what actually happened to the original, I couldn't Love. It was too traumatic," a bona fide grin broke out on his face. A grin the likes of which Buffy hadn't seen since Willow's engagement spell. "Thank you, George. So much," he said.

Buffy was curious. Just what was there that could render Spike almost totally gaga in two seconds flat? She took the short walk to the next car bay. Her face almost hurt from the smile that spread across her face. That car held some strangely fond memories for her as well.

There, sitting in the bay, waiting patiently for her driver to slip her on like a faded pair of dungarees, was that giant of a car. Shining, as if it knew its true owner had, at last, returned, was that big, black, DeSoto.
************

Holland sighed, "I mean, really. Who does Spike think he is? He only saved the world twice, single-handed. How many times have you saved it?"

"Once. He saved it once. The other time was all Buffy," Angel grumbled.

"Silly me, I forgot about that scrap with Glory. Really must remember to send a thank you note for his help with that. She was a handful. Now let's think," Holland pinched his chin, "That brings his tally to four then, doesn't it?"

"Your math's a little off there, Holland," Angel sneered.

"No, I think yours is. Remember Fred?"

"Of course I do."

"Good. Then you remember how you were willing to sacrifice thousands of people, just for her. If Spike hadn't talked some sense into you, well, Buffy could have been one of those thousands. You do remember her, don't you? She was the love of your universe. Or have you forgotten that, too?"

"I haven't forgotten."

"Is she still?"
*****************

As Buffy circled around Spike, waiting for the split second when his guard would lower just enough to let her in, she decided to help it along, with a little meaningful chit -chat, "What is this black and white swirl on the floor?" she grazed it lightly with her stocking feet, "It looks like the Nike symbol."

"Nice try, Love," he purred, "but you're not making me give you an opening by looking down. Do you have some sort of shoe fetish that I wasn't aware of? The symbol on the floor is George's way of reminding me, us, that we're connected, you and I."

"That's sweet. But, what is it?"

"That is yin and yang, Love. The Chinese symbol for existence."

Buffy tried for a jab, but Spike easily stepped away, "Huh?"

Spike shook his head in disappointment, "You're not even trying. You were dropping your shoulder. I saw that coming. Existence. Dark and Light; Good and Evil; Man and Woman, take your pick. The point is, in order to have one, you have to take the other."

"Which is the dark half?"

"Hmm, well if the answer doesn't light a fire under you, nothing will. We can't stand here all day tracing circles around each other, Slayer. You have got to commit. Make a move! And, don't hesitate, or Dru will kill you! The woman, at least in Chinese philosophy, represents the dark half. She's cold, too," Spike sneered and ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth. His next comment would bring the fire out, he knew, "Real bitch. I'm sure you know the type."

That did it. Before he knew it he was sailing through the air, landing with a thud on the mat below. He thanked George for her forward thinking, as his head recoiled from the impact, to have them there. Without them, his spine would have snapped in two from her ferocity.

Spike stared up at her with eyes that he hoped didn't convey the fear he was feeling as the tip of her stake whispered against the skin that covered his heart. He saw her feral gaze bore into him as she straddled his hips and he hoped that he would be able to talk her down, before the stake was driven home, "I'll show you what a real bitch looks like!" she screeched.

"Easy, Slayer," he said, in a measured tone. He shifted his face back to its human form, "See, it's me," he panted, "old blue eyes," he could see that she had calmed a little, "Now, please, don't move that trigger finger, or I'm dust."

She came back to herself slowly. Buffy took in Spike's prone form, and his frightened eyes, as she let him up. He stayed on the floor even though she was no longer holding him down, until she had the time to gather her wits about her again. "Spike?" she whimpered, clasping a hand over her mouth in surprise at her own strength. She'd thrown him at least a hundred feet across the room and hadn't even been aware she'd done it until she saw his blue eyes staring back at her.

"Yeah, it's me Love," he said weakly, "That's the kind of fire you're going to need to get the upper hand with Dru. Give me a minute, Love," he said, as he struggled to rise from the floor, "then we'll have another go, yeah?"
*********************

Drusilla knew her boy was helping her. He was getting well and that was good. The sooner he was well again, the sooner she could play. And, the sooner he'd be home again, where he belonged.





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