Author's Chapter Notes:
Beta read by the very patient and sharp-eyed Gillo.
Memories Are Made of This…







“Randy? What’s wrong?” Joan put down the magazine she’d been looking at and jumped to her feet. Randy was standing just inside the door, an expression of shock and anguish on his face. She ran to him, going up on her toes to kiss him hello, surprised when he didn’t respond. “Randy?”



He flinched away from her, tuning his back on her puzzled face. “Sorry, love. Just got some news and I— Get away from me, Joan. I… I don’t think I’m safe to be around.”



“What? Where did that come from? We’ve been living together for weeks. I think I’d have noticed by now if—”



“What if my memory suddenly came back and it turned out I was…. evil?”



Buffy sighed. “Come on, Randy. We’ve talked about this – obviously you must have a soul… That isn’t going to go away if you get your memory back. You’re the one who figured it out first. You’re a good vampire… you have a soul.”



“But I don’t,” he said, dejection in every line of his body. He threw his unneeded hat across the room. “I don’t have a soul. And I’m not good! I’m evil. You should… well not slay me, because that doesn’t really appeal… But you shouldn’t be living with me. It’s not right.”



Joan narrowed her eyes. “Have you met somebody else? Is it that skinny redhead that can’t make up her mind if she likes men or women? I’ll rip her hair right off—”



“Ah no, love. No, it’s nothing like that.” In spite of his vow to stay away from her, he immediately pulled her into his chest and began to murmur in her ear. “Could never… love you so much, Joan. I just don’t want to hurt you, is all.”



“You won’t,” she whispered into his neck, inhaling the scent that she’d come to love. “I trust you.”



“I’m not good enough for you,” he said, fastening his lips on hers. “Not half good enough…”



“Mmmmm….”



~~~~~~~~~~



Joan snuggled into Randy’s side, playing idly with one of his nipples.



“So,” she said, nuzzling his chest and smiling at his happy purr. “What brought on all this worry about how safe I am around you? I feel pretty safe right now.”



He chuckled and pulled her even closer into his side. She threw her leg over his and pressed against him, squirming a little against his thigh. “You keep that up, pet, and I can’t guarantee your safety. Or your virtue.”



“Oh dear! The big bad vampire is going to ravish me! Whatever will I do?” Joan’s deliberately high-pitched voice made him chuckle again and pull her over until she was lying on his body, his newly awake cock pressing between her thighs.



“You could always ravish the big bad vampire – that’d teach him.”



Joan giggled. “You are so full of it.”



“Gonna make you full of it….” He grabbed her hips and positioned her where he wanted her. “After I make you scream for me a few more times.”



“Pfft! Give it your best shot, vampire.” Joan was already moving on him, laughing at the way his eyes rolled back in his head. “We’ll just see who screams this time…”



Finishing their love-making as they often did, with Randy holding himself on his arms and staring down at Joan’s sated expression, he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he said. “I feel like I’ve loved you forever…”



She moved her chin up so she could brush her lips across his. “I love you too, Randy. I just wish we knew…” She gave herself a little shake and used her powerful arms and legs to pull him closer. “Sorry. I know we said we wouldn’t wonder about what we were before we lost our memories. It’s just that sometimes if feels so….” She shook her head.



“So…?” He rolled off, sighing when his softened cock slid out of her warmth. For some reason, he was always surprised at the difference in their body temperatures, as though he hadn’t been used to much contact with humans before the amnesia.



“Wrong,” she whispered, burying her face in his neck. “Most of the time it feels so right and then sometimes…” She raised her face. “I’m sorry. That sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? There’s no way we could be this much in love if we hadn’t had some kind of relationship before whatever happened, happened.”



He stilled, then shook his head. “Actually, love. I understand exactly what you mean—not that I don’t still feel like I’ve loved you forever, but it does seem a bit… off… sometimes.”



“Probably just the whole vampire, slayer vibe,” Joan said, her face settling into determined lines. “Now that we know what I am, and what you are, it makes sense that it would feel weird sometimes.”



“I reckon that’s so… but I think I need to tell you what I heard today.”



“Fine. Tell me what you heard that made you come home all weird and wanting to leave me.”



“Don’t want to leave you, Joan. Never, never want to leave you. But if what those vamps were saying is even close to being true… you should get as far away from me as you can.”



“What vamps? And why were you talking to them instead of staking them?”



“One of them said he knew me. Called me… some other name. I let him hang around while I dusted the others.”



“And he said?”



“He said I’m not souled – apparently I have a grandsire that has a soul, but I don’t. He said I’m only hanging out with you because I can’t kill anymore and you feed me.” He put his hand on her cheek. “He said, love, that I used to be famous for… for killing slayers. Said my sire would be rolling over in her grave if she had one, to know that I was living with a slayer. That I could love one.”



“I hope you dusted him,” she growled, curling her lip in an impressive snarl.



“Oh, did. Never doubt it. Put him out of our misery good and proper. But… but then I went to that demon bar—”



“Willy’s?”



“Yeah. That one. Found my mate, Clem, there and asked him if any of what the wanker had said was true.” He turned his head to meet her frown. “He said it’s all true, love. Doesn’t know much about your sister and your mates, but he knows me.”



“Why didn’t he say anything? We’ve being going crazy trying to remember who we are – and he knows? He’s known all this time? I’m going to kill him!” She sat up and went to climb out of bed, stopping when he grabbed her around the waist.



“Don’t do that, love. He’s about the only friend I have in this town.”



“That’s not so! You have Alex, and Willow and Tara and Dawn. And your dad. Did he say anything about your dad?”



“They’re your friends, love. You know that. And it looks like dear old dad is just somebody who oversees what you do.” He grinned slightly. “Can’t say that’s all that disappointing, actually. I’ve always felt there was something off there.”



“You fight like you’re related,” she grumbled. “And he’s always complaining about you.”



“Don’t doubt it. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think I’m good enough for you. Hey, maybe he’s your old man?”



She shrugged. “Maybe. He does give off a fatherly vibe… although I can’t see myself accepting Anya as a stepmother.” She shuddered. “It’s gross watching them kissing and hugging… and the inappropriate touching!” She shuddered again, poking Randy when he laughed at her.



“You can laugh. Your dad isn’t marrying somebody only a couple years older than you are!”



“Don’t know how old I am, love,” he said. “But I wasn’t made just yesterday. Wish Clem knew more than he does, but he pretty much told me everything he knew. Once he was sure I wanted to know.”



“What’s his explanation for not telling you before?”



“He said… he said he’d never seen me so happy. Neither of us, actually. He said we seemed so happy together that he just didn’t want to do anything that might—”



“Break us up?”



“Something like that. He seems to think that I’ll still love you, but that you won’t… won’t want me anymore.”



“That’s crazy talk!”



“You don’t know that, love. You don’t know anything about what you used to think of me. It’s not like you were all that interested when we first met, is it?”



“Well… well that doesn’t count! I mean we were all with the not knowing who we are, and you were wearing those dorky clothes… I’m sorry,” she said quickly when a hurt expression went across his face. “But you said it yourself – that you looked like a… a… something British and rude.”



He nodded in reluctant agreement. “Actually, love, it turns out I was disguised; trying to avoid a loansha—a bad guy who was after me. Clem told me where to find my old stuff. I just haven’t been there yet. Wanted to come home and tell you to—”



“To tell me to get away from you? Yeah, great decision that was.” She sat up and glared at him, flushing when his gaze went to her breasts, jiggling under the force of her indignant breathing.



“Oh, I dunno. Look where it got us,” he said, reaching up and tweaking a rosy nipple.



“Don’t change the subject,” she said, batting his hand away. “So, you know where you live – lived – now?” She jumped off the bed and starting pulling on her clothes. “Let’s go then.”



Dismay clouded his eyes. “You want to leave here? Leave our apartment? Are you throwing me out?”



“No, you idiot. I’m saying, let’s go see where you used to live, get you some less dorky clothes, and maybe find out more about who we are. Maybe I lived there too, and I can—”



“It’s a crypt, Joan. A nice one, if Clem’s to be believed, but a crypt. I’m pretty sure you don’t live there.”



“Well…” Joan mulled that over, frowning, then her face brightened. “But I’m your girlfriend, right? So there should be stuff there about me. Maybe some… I dunno. Pictures? With my real name on them?”



“Thought you picked Joan cause it felt right?” He gave up the argument and began pulling on his pants. “Can’t say I’ll be sorry to have something else to wear,” he muttered. “If I don’t see another scrap of wool in my life, it’ll be too soon.”



“I do feel like a Joan… But it would be nice to know if that’s really who I am.”



“Alright, pet. Let’s go then. At worst, I’ll find a few things I can use there…”



Pulling the door shut behind them, they walked off hand-in-hand to find the crypt in Restfield Clem had told Randy was where he’d lived before he lost his memory. They took the time to hang out by a new grave, staking both the newly risen vampire and the dirt-covered early risers waiting for him.



“Yuck,” Joan said, brushing the dust and dirt off. “I don’t know if I think it’s nice that his friends came looking for him, or just creepy that they were still going to be friends after they turned evil.”



“Hey, maybe we were together before I was turned, and that’s why I… Oh, never mind.” His shoulders sagged and he didn’t continue. She squeezed his hand in encouragement.



“Never mind, why? That’s a good idea. Probably you were already my boyfriend and you just stayed my boyfriend after you were vamped.”



He squeezed her hand in response and shook his head. “No, love. I just remembered what else Clem said. He doesn’t know a lot about me from before I came to Sunnydale, but he says I’m a lot older than I look. Been a vamp too long to have been anything to you before.”



“Oh.” She dropped his hand and kept walking.



There was silence as Randy walked steadily toward the older part of the cemetery where Clem had assured him he had a very nice home. He kept glancing at Joan from the corners of his eyes as she remained beside him. While Joan had become very comfortable in Sunnydale’s cemeteries, having realized quickly that they the best places to find vampires, he was having a hard time picturing her wanting to live in one.



His father—no, not his dad, her “Watcher”—had long since read enough of the old journals in his apartment to intuit that Joan was probably a “Slayer”, and she had accepted the designation with reasonable grace, adapting her lifestyle to allow her to spend her nights at Randy’s side, fighting and slaying vampires and demons. They’d been disappointed when nothing in Rupert’s huge collection of books had given any clues to who Joan was, only what she probably was. The large safe under the desk had a combination that apparently was only available in Rupert’s still missing memory, so whatever information or materials might have been available there were out of reach. Randy’s suggestion that they use explosives to blow the safe open – a suggestion Alex had eagerly supported – brought nothing but a thunderous “NO!” from the older man. So whatever secrets may have been hidden in the safe, remained safely so for the time being.



“Here we are, love.” Randy stopped in front of a large stone building with sturdy-looking doors shutting out the living world. “Hope it’s not locked.”



“Who locks a crypt?” Joan tugged on the outer door, opening it easily. She glanced at Randy and gestured to the inner door.



He put a hand on it, pushing it ajar then pausing and turning to face her. “Best let me go first, Joan. Don’t know what we’re likely to find.”



“As long as it’s not a wife and three kids, I’m good,” she said, smiling at him and waiting for him to share her humor. He obliged with a quick chuckle, but hesitated in the doorway.



“Don’t expect to find any surprises like that,” he said, “but don’t know what we will find.”



“And we’ll never know if you don’t open that damn door,” she said, trying to push past him. With a resigned sigh, he shoved the door the rest of the way open and stepped through. Quickly going into game face, he cast his eyes around, seeing only some obviously used furniture and a lot of dust. He spotted a row of candles, and walked to the shelf they were on to light several of them. In the flickering glow from the candles, he watched as Joan stared around with open curiosity.



When she’d run her hands along the back of the couch, touched the sarcophagus, explored the small refrigerator (taking out the clearly spoiled blood and tossing it out the door with a loud “Ewwww!”), and peered into the dark space below, she turned to look at him.



“Does it look familiar?”



He shook his head and walked over to join her at the top of the stairs. “Clem says my bedroom’s down there. Maybe there’ll be something more informative there.” He went down the steps, calling out, “Wait till I put some lights on, love.”



As soon as a glow lit up the glorified ladder that passed for stairs to the lower level, Joan went down and looked around. Randy was busy rooting through the drawers of a dresser, pulling out tee shirts and jeans. He began stripping before she’d even had time to realize that he’d found his real clothes. She watched with pride and admiration as he walked around naked, collecting socks from a drawer and a pair of well-worn boots from under the bed.



“You know, you have a really, really nice body. Have I ever mentioned that?”



He beamed and stood up even straighter. “Not so I remember,” he said. Walking up to her, he pulled her against him and purred, “It’s yours you know. Just in case you want to….”



She laughed, giving him a quick grope and then pushing him away. “You’re insatiable. Put your clothes on and let’s keep looking for something else we don’t already know.”



“Something else?” He made a disappointed face at her, but obediently started getting dressed. “What do we know already?”



“That you apparently are either color blind, or you love black,” she said, pulling open the drawers from which he’d pulled the tee shirt and jeans.



“Hey! There’s a red shirt in there somewhere. I saw it.”



She just rolled her eyes at him and continued to root around in the dresser. Under several pair of socks she found a small bundle of photos and pulled them out to lie on top. She looked up at the mirror and frowned at the small photo she saw tucking into one corner. In it, were Dawn, herself, and an older woman with blond hair.



“Randy? Do you think that’s…?”



“Your mum? Wish I could tell you, love. I’d say probably yes, but…” He flipped it over and shook his head. “Doesn’t say on the back. Can see that it’s you and the bitesize one, but no idea who the other woman is.”



“I think it must be my mom. Randy! I have a mom! Somewhere there’s a mom wondering where I am! Where Dawn is. We have to find her!”



“And we will, sweetheart. I promise you. Although I don’t know why she wouldn’t have been in the house where Dawn lives.”



“Maybe she’s just… away… or something.”



Randy gave her a reassuring, “That’s probably it, pet. When she gets back she’ll help us sort this all out.” But his eyes were troubled and wary. . If Joan's mother was away, she’d been gone a very long time. He didn’t bother to mention that the house did not look or smell like anyone besides Dawn and the two witches lived there.



He took the packet of photos she’d found and began to skim through them. As Joan watched, he became very still, his face shutting down. He sat down on the bed, eyes fixed on his hands. Joan sat beside him.



“What’s wrong? What do you see?”



He silently handed her the first few photos – all faded with age and showing a dark-haired woman and a man in Victorian dress posing in various ways. In one of the photos, they were joined by a taller, dark-haired man and a lovely, but hard-eyed, blonde woman. While Joan tried to absorb what she was seeing, he placed other photos on the bed, spreading them out so that she could see. The same couple appeared in almost every picture, their clothing changing to reflect different eras from the past hundred years or more. The final photos showed the woman in a white dress that looked like something a hippie would have worn, while the man, now blond and easily recognizable as Randy, was wearing jeans, a leather vest held together with safety pins, and boots that looked much like the ones at Randy’s feet.



“Who is she?” Joan’s voice was calm and controlled, but he could hear the pain in it as she picked up the last photo and stared at Randy, in vamp face and holding a long leather coat triumphantly aloft. Behind him, the woman was now also wearing fangs that dripped blood. “Never mind. I guess that answers that question. Is this your sire?”



He shrugged. “Honestly, love. I’ve got no idea. Probably? Based on what that wanker I dusted said about her rolling over in her grave over me falling in love with a Slayer.”



“Do you think I slayed her?” Joan’s expression made it very clear that if she hadn’t, it was now at the top of her to do list.



Pushing the pictures to the floor, he put his arms around her tense body and rolled backwards on the bed. He held on tightly as he made her look him in the eyes.



“Don’t know. Don’t care. There’s only one woman in my life now and she’s all I ever want to have in it. Whoever that woman is, she’s just a vamp to me. If she’s the one responsible for me living long enough to meet you, then I’ll be grateful to her, but she could walk in that door right now and I’d still only have eyes for my Joan.”



“You don’t know that,” she said, nuzzling against his arm as she said it. “You don’t know what she is to you, until you know who you are.”



“Spike.”



“What?”



“My name is Spike – according to Clem. AKA William the Bloody. That’s who I am.”



“Oh.” Joan’s voice was very small. “But you don’t remember who you are. You don’t remember being Spike.”



“No, I don’t. But if Clem is telling the truth, Spike was every bit as much in love with you as Randy is.” He gave her a sad smile. “He wasn’t quite as sure about your feelings, though. Said he’d never really got to know you, and only saw us out on a date the one time.”



“Well, if you loved me, of course I loved you back! How could I not?”



“I hope you’re right, love. I really hope you’re right. Don’t think I could bear it if you—to have had this and then lose it when you’re yourself again.” He shuddered and held her so tightly she eventually had to nudge him and remind him that she was not a vampire and therefore needed to breathe once in a while.



“Sorry, pet. Got a little carried away thinking about what my life would be like if I had to go back to living here by myself while you—” He sighed and released her. “Getting maudlin and worryin’ about something that may never happen, yeah?”



“Speaking of that…” She stood up and smiled down at him. “Let’s see if we can find anything here that tells us who Joan is.”



They poked around some more, but there wasn’t much furniture other than the bed and dresser and a small, very full bookcase.



“Not down here there isn’t. Guess we should look around the upstairs a bit more.”



“How can I not have been down here? The bed is here.”



“We don’t always make the bed, do we, pet?” He leered at her, laughing when she blushed and nodded.



“Good point. Okay, upstairs we go.”



Randy lit more candles in the upper level, and with the new lighting they were able to see that the fridge contained Diet Cokes and water, two things he was sure he didn’t drink. When Joan found a sweater in her size, and a scarf in her favorite color, she exhaled a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.



“Look! I’ll bet these are my clothes,” she said, waving them triumphantly. He took them from her hands, sniffed and grinned.



“That they are, love. Smell just as delicious as you do.”



“Uh… thanks? And ewwww.”



“I guess we’d better check in with your—with Mr. Giles—and tell him what you found out.”



“I suppose so. It’s just one more unexplained thing, though. Just like Dawn living in that house all by herself, and….” Buffy made a face. “And Willow cheating on poor Alex with Tara. I mean what’s up with that? She’s got this good-looking, nice boyfriend, and she wants to be gay?”



“Boyfriend’s thick as a plank if he doesn’t know what’s going on between the two wannabe witches. Even if he can’t smell them on each other like I can.”



“There’s that whole ewwww thing again,” she said, tugging him toward the door. “Let’s go. You can come back and get your stuff later.”



“Get my stuff?”



Joan stopped, her hand on the door. In a small voice, without turning to look at him, she said, “Well, yeah. Don’t you want to have your stuff in the apartment?” Aren’t you going to live there anymore?”



“Hadn’t thought that far, pet. I mean, there has to be a reason why I wasn’t living with you before.”



“This isn’t before,” she said, turned to glare at him. “It’s now, and we live together. We love each other and I don’t care what your friend said about us before – if we’re happy now, we can be happy again.”










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