Willow was ready. A locator spell hadn’t worked, so she and Tara had researched other spells that would almost do the same as a locator spell. They had found an aura locator spell. The way it worked was with an item that belonged to a person. For their purposes they had to alter it.
Willow had been convinced it wouldn’t work until Tara had told her that even vampires had different auras. With this news, the redhead had new hope. Buffy had finally given up, drowning in her sorrows of another love lost, but willow was determined not to. Not at this point. It had taken her weeks to find the spell and a month to get the ingredients, but it’d work. It had to. Because it couldn’t do anything but.
Willow watched as Tara sprinkled herbs over the map of the world. The blonde witch than placed Spike’s lighter on the map and it glowed white. She joined hands with Willow as the redheaded witch remembered their earlier conversation with Xander, Anya and Dawn.
“Tara has to do the spell.” Willow said.
“This is important, Willow. You’re strong enough to do this. I-I’ll help, in case you need it. I trust you. I believe in you.”
She could feel the magic building up inside of her, ready to use it for god. Not what she’d been doing earlier this year. Abusing it. Making it a hobby. Something to play with and not think of the consequences accustomed with it.
Tara was her strength. Without Tara, Willow wouldn’t be doing this. Tara was her everything, her life and love. Her breath, her reason for being. If she hadn’t met Tara two years ago, she didn’t know who or what she’d be. Her light was Tara. Only Tara. Forever.
She concentrated on what she was doing. She was trying to find Spike. To bring him back. For Buffy. For Dawn. Maybe a bit for herself.
The white glow flared before it darkened. In the candlelit room, Tara and Willow could both see the little glowing dot of black, red, gold and blue swirling around in Europe.
“That’s Italy!” Willow looked up at Tara. “He’s in Italy!”
They pulled away to break the spell and smiled at each other. In spur-of-the-moment joy, she hugged Tara, who held on to her embrace.
They pulled away and Willow smiled at the blonde. “I can imagine their reunion. There’ll be tears and hugs and kisses and Dawn staying out at night…”
Tara blushed a bit at the look willow gave her, but smiled. “It’ll be beautiful.” She agreed.
Willow smiled back. “Just like you.”
Tara responded by kissing her on the lips softly.
Spike told her and Kita that he felt like leaving Italy. He wanted to go to Sunnydale and do in that slayer. And, after a weird interrogation from Kita about said slayer, they agreed.
Now she sat in the passenger seat, Kita in the back of Spike’s new car as he told Kita and her to hold on before plowing through the “Welcome to Sunnydale” sign, skidding to a stop just before hitting the curb.
She could already feel it, see it. Miss Edith, the stars, and the moon, the Hellmouth. It all whispered to her. Something was going to go wrong. Terribly wrong.
“Ring around the posies, pocket full of posies…” the wind sang to her.
As they walked trough the streets, she found herself humming along before murmuring, “Ashes, ashes, we all. Fall. Down.”
Willow told Buffy about the spell. And to make sure the slayer believed her, the two witches performed it in front of an audience of the other Scoobies. The only difference was that the dot that represented Spike was in Sunnydale, back.
And then, Buffy told them, albeit guiltily, about the past two months. About that dream she was completely sure she’d shared with Spike. Leaving out the part where Spike was chipless.
Now, Kita had to die. She was the reason. The reason she and Spike weren’t together. The reason they hadn’t patrolled together in two months. The reason she hadn’t had the chance to cuddle up with him on the couch during movie night yet. The reason she thought she wouldn’t be on his arm at Xander and Anya’s wedding. The reason they had yet to do some mundane couple things like the laundry, dishes, make dinner, burn dinner, share the bathroom, try to fix something and make it worse. And Buffy was going to make sure Kita felt every inch of the stake she was going to shove through the vampire’s non-beating heart.
She was grateful to Xander and Anya. They’d decided to wait until Buffy got Spike back before proceeding with the wedding. That and until they worked out everything that put any doubt in them that they should spend the rest of their lives together.
Buffy was pretty sure her own dilemma was showing Xander how easy it would be to lose Anya, just as Willow losing and getting Tara back and done the same.
The joy continued to creep back into her. The mere thought of seeing Spike again, hearing him feeling him…she could only hope and dream.
Sure, Drusilla knew him well enough, but she mostly thought him to be rash, unable to hide his emotions and completely dedicated to her. Kita too. Which he was, most of the time. But, in order to fid out what Kita was up to, he had to be patient. Concealing. Not totally impassive because it might be a clue that he was suspicious.
At the moment, he was walking down Main Street, looking for someone to eat, trying to figure out a way to figure out Kita’s plans.
A tingle ran up his spine. Slayer. No, his body told him. More than a slayer. The slayer.
He’d been Sunnydale before. He now knew this. To know a slayer as more than just a slayer meant that he’d spent time here before. Before Kita and the old man. But to know this made him realize his memory was messed with. Most likely by Kita.
His mind flashed to the fifteen minutes of his life. He’d been in Kita’s room, and he must’ve found something. She’d made him forget. And he caught her burning what must’ve been evidence.
“Spike?” the questioning voice that spoke his name held disbelief, hope, and something else.
He turned to face her. Petite with green eyes. Blonde hair. Flashes of blonde hair and green eyes in his dreams. And she knew him. Another piece of evidence. He’d heard his voice call the petite blonde slayer. It hit him who she was.
“Slayer?”
“You don’t remember me.” Buffy stated confidently. The look on his face was all she needed for that. She moved a bit closer, noting his light fighting stance. She raised her hands, placating. “I’m Buffy. The slayer. Spike, you’ve lived in Sunnydale for two years now.”
“And we’ve never tried to kill each other?” he asked, rightfully disbelieving that neither one of them were dead.
“We’re…”she smiled, “It’s complicated.” A pause. “Very complicated.”
Spike stared at her, dumbfounded. He vaguely felt Kita behind him and wondered what she was doing here.
Buffy looked over his shoulder at the female vampire. Her eyes widened slightly and she rushed forward, pushing Spike out the way.
A/N: know, I’m the worst person in the world for ending it here. But hey, one more chapter to go. Hold tight.