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Regaining Memories -- Part 6



Regaining Memories -- Part 6
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, UPN, Sandollar Television, and Mutant Enemy own BtVS. No copyright infringements were intended. This is my story and not meant to copy the show.
Note: Thanks for the feedback everyone! I really appreciate it all!
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Anne jumped, forcing herself to sit up. "What the hell was that?" she whispered to herself, running her fingers through her hair. There had been nothing like that written in Giles' journal, yet these dreams seemed so realistic, as if being with Spike was the way it was meant to be. Anne took another deep breath, trying to slow her rapidly beating heart in order to keep herself from shaking. A light layer of perspiration covered her skin, and she wiped her forehead off, her breathing becoming more even and slow-paced. It wasn't every day that you had to go through your death three times in a row.
Anne had millions of questions running around her head, but she didn't have any answers. But the memories were still fresh in her mind. *Now* was the time to act if she hoped to get any answers at all.
She climbed out of bed and threw on some comfortable clothes. She crossed the main room and grabbed the faded photo off of her kitchen counter and picked up the journal from the table.
A second later, Anne burst into Andrew's apartment, a look of wild confusion and determination etched on her face. Andrew was seated at his dining room table, a cup of tea in his hand and the newspaper spread out in front of him.
"You!" Anne said demandingly, pointing a finger at him.
"And good morning to you, also," Andrew said sarcastically, setting the cup back on the table.
"Tell me what the hell is going on," Anne said, striding across the room and closer to him. "I need answers now."
"With what?"
Anne threw down the faded photo on the table in front of him. She placed the journal next to it before speaking. "This!"
"Oh...that," Andrew replied with a sigh.
"What is *that*, Andrew?" Anne asked loudly. "Wait, hold on. I'll tell you what it is. Andrew, it’s Buffy!"
Andrew paused, not having expected this subject to come up so suddenly. "And?"
"And? That's all you're going to say is 'and'? I read Giles' journal, and then, I had these dreams. Andrew, there were things in these dreams that I couldn't have possibly known about. There was so much...Giles didn't even write about them."
"Dreams?" Andrew asked curiosity getting the best of him.
"Yes, dreams," Anne replied. "I...I dreamed about Buffy and Spike...what happened between the two of them."
"Over-active imagination?" Andrew questioned.
"No! Andrew, I'm serious. There were...things...things that I couldn't have known about." She looked at him with worry in her eyes. "Andrew, what's going on? What's happening?"
"Anne, I'm as much in the dark about this as you are," Andrew continued with a slight hesitation in his voice. "I would recommend that you go speak to Spike about all of this. After all, he was around her quite a bit."
Anne thought, thinking about to all the dreams she had of him. "Spike?" She asked aloud, her face paling. "I can't do that."
"If that's the only way to get any answers, I know that you'll do it," Andrew replied.
Anne scowled, knowing that he was right. "Whatever," she said softly. She picked up the faded photo of Buffy and turned on her heels, quickly leaving Andrew's apartment. She needed time to think before she just walked over to Spike's apartment.
Andrew paused, listening to Anne's rapidly retreating footsteps. He closed the newspaper and pulled out a small, very worn book from where he'd placed it in his lap. He opened up to a page in the back, his eyes searching out for any word that could jump out at him as being related to his slayer.
"Memories lost...," his eyes trailed over the printed words. he thought as his eyes continued reading. "Oh...bloody hell."
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The rest of the day passed before Anne gave in and decided to go see Spike. Although she didn't know what she was going to say and how she was going to treat him, she knew that she just needed to see him. Maybe there was the chance that she could at least get some answers from him even though they had parted on bad terms. She approached the front door, her hand raised to knock, when she heard voices speak.
"Are you sure, mate?"
Anne thought, unrecognizable feelings rushing throughout her.
"Yes, I'm positive," another voice replied.
Anne told herself. She climbed off the porch and walked over to the living room window, hoping she could see the two of them. She crouched down and slowly raised her head to gaze into the window. Spike and Andrew were standing in the middle of the room. Andrew held an open book in his hand as the two argued back and forth.
"You're wrong," Spike said firmly.
"The Codex is never wrong, Spike," Andrew insisted. "It was right about Buffy dying at the hands of the master, and that was over one hundred years ago."
"Look at it again," Spike commanded.
Andrew began speaking, reciting the verse to the vampire.
"Memories lost,
This shall be the way of the slayer,
Through the help of a darkness
Memories regained and
The legendary Slayer will return,
Then must defeat the obstacles
And reclaim her name."
"Could they have made it any *more* vague?" Spike asked in annoyance. He shook his head, feeling positive that the "darkness" was referring to himself.
"Anne is...she will become Buffy," Andrew said without any uncertainty in his tone.
And there it was. Anne was never meant to be here. Her whole life had been meant for Buffy, not her. She was just the vessel, just a stupid body that Buffy would eventually take over. Anne crouched down to the ground, not wanting to hear any more of their conversation.
"This is bull," Spike protested. "If anyone deserved eternal peace, its Buffy. She said that she didn't want to be brought back...I promised her that I wouldn't bring her back."
"Look, it's a prophecy. There is nothing that you can even do about it. Maybe there is way to prevent it from happening right *now*, but it will eventually occur. You can't stop this."
"And are you even the slightest bit concerned with what those so-called 'obstacles' are?" Spike asked, looking up at Andrew.
"Of course I am," Andrew retorted. "But if she is truly Buffy Summers, she should be able to defeat anything. It will be her test."
"Don't you even care?" Spike raised his voice. "You're just like all the rest of the watchers over there in bloody ol' England. The Slayer isn't a person to you all; she's a damn tool!"
"That's not true anymore," Andrew replied angrily, taking a step towards Spike. "And you should be glad that you're allowed to even work with her. I could have staked you on the spot, but I allowed you to work with her."
Spike growled. What had started out as a simple conversation about what was happening to Anne quickly grew into a loud argument between Watchers and vampires. "Get out," he said brusquely.
"My pleasure," Andrew replied curtly, snapping the book closed and heading towards the door.
Anne waited outside, cowering behind the bushes as she listened to Andrew close the front door and walk down the steps. She slowly stood up when she was sure that Andrew was far away and hurried up the stairs, wondering if she should knock or simply barge in. Finally, she lightly tapped on the door.
"I told you to get out!" Spike yelled through the door.
"I...uh, it's me," Anne said.
Spike opened the door, a look of utter shock on his face. "Hey," he said, a smile appearing on his face.
"Hi, can I come in?" she asked.
"Sure."
Once inside, Anne turned around and faced him, a serious expression on her face. "Look...uh, last time I was here, I said some pretty harsh things to you."
"And I deserved it," Spike said, not wanting Anne to blame herself.
"No...I pretty much yelled at you, and you stood there taking it all," Anne continued. "And...I'm sorry, for saying those things. I shouldn't have said all that stuff about Buffy."
"It's all right," Spike said quietly.
"No, I think that this is pretty far from being 'all right', but it'll do," Anne replied. She pulled out the photo from her pocket and held it out to him. "Guess I should give this back to you."
Spike reached out and silently took Buffy’s picture, placing it in his jeans pocket. Spike stared at the floor for a second, not really knowing what to say. "So was that all?" he asked, glancing back up at her.
"I guess it was," Anne said regretfully as she started walking back to the front door. Spike reached for the doorknob to open the door for Anne at the same time she reached to open the door for herself. Their fingertips touched; their hands made contact, and that was all they needed. Acting purely on instinct, Anne threw herself into Spike's arms. An eerie deja vu feeling passed over her, but Anne pushed it to the back of her mind.
Spike was surprised by Anne's sudden motion, but he wasn't stupid. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards his body. The two stood in the hallway, hands running through each other's hair, fingers running over bare skin. They paused only to allow Anne to gasp for another breath. "Spike..." Anne whimpered, enfolding her arms around his neck and standing on her toes to reach him.
"Buffy..." Spike whispered before he could catch himself.
Anne pulled back and stared at him as Spike mentally prepared himself to be punched in the nose. Instead, she raised her face and placed a kiss in the hollow of his neck before moving upward and kissing him on the lips. "Come on," she whispered, taking his hand and beginning to lead him back to his room.
Once in his room, Anne pulled Spike closer to her, spreading wet, warm kisses on his face. "Anne...what are we-"
"Shh," she replied, covering his mouth with her own for an instant. "Call me Buffy," she whispered.
Anne pulled Spike onto the bed beside her and laced her arms around him, easing herself onto his lap. "God, Buffy..." Spike murmured. The couple fell back onto the bed and, very quickly, the two were lost within each other.
 
~~~
Anne opened her eyes but was forced to close them when a bright light suddenly popped on in front of her. She squinted at her surroundings, not noticing anything familiar. she thought. "Hello?" she asked uncertainly.
"Hey there," a warm voice called out.
The lights quickly dimmed and Anne looked forward to find herself staring at...herself? "Bu...Buffy?" she asked with hesitation in her tone.
"You guessed right!" she replied, taking a step towards Anne. "I thought that now was a really good time to try and talk to you since...well, I know what's going on with you and Spike. I had to talk to you about the two of you."
Anne rolled her eyes -- this was not what she needed -- her inner subconscious giving her a memory pep talk. "Look, I know how to handle Spike."
"Do you?" Buffy turned sideways and moved her right hand around in a circle at her side. A cloud appeared when her hand circled over the white surface, and an image of Spike and Anne appeared. The two were sleeping on their sides, a look of serenity and calmness on both of their faces. "Seems like I got to you just in the nick of time," Buffy commented. She stared at Spike, sighing when she remembered her own time with him.
"Do we have to keep watching this?" Anne asked uncomfortably, unable to remover her gaze from the image of Spike and herself.
The two watched as Spike lifted his head and placed a light kiss on Anne's neck before falling back to sleep. "It's amazing. Even after a hundred years, he's still in love with you," Buffy stated matter-of-factly.
"He's in love with *you*, not me," Anne corrected her.
"But you are me."
"No, I'm not!" Anne cried out.
"Yes, in a way you are," Buffy replied, drawing closer to Anne. "I know you've been dreaming about my life; I needed you to see. I'm inside of you, Anne. I'm buried deep inside of your subconscious, screaming to get out."
"But I don't want it!" Anne protested. "It's bad enough that I'm the Slayer that everyone is calling the next Buffy Summers. I've got live up to your legacy. I've got all that to worry about, and then...then Spike comes into the picture."
"And?"
"And I don't want it!" Anne cried out again. "I don't want this. I want *my* life, a life without these complications."
"Let me tell you this, at least. He and I only got one month to fully be together...well, without all the angst, the secrets, and the shame," Buffy said, regret filling her voice. "You have the chance to be together longer, forever, because he won't leave you."
Anne stared incredulously at her, trying to draw up past dreams and memories to figure out what Buffy was talking about. "Like Angel left you? Like...that other guy?"
"Yeah, Spike is pretty devoted," Buffy said with a smile on her face. "I think he's referred to himself as 'love's bitch' numerous times."
Anne smiled. "I don't know...this is all so weird. I feel so...so attracted to him. It's like I literally can't fight it."
"Then, don't," Buffy replied as if it were as simple as that.
"That easy, huh?" Anne asked her.
Buffy nodded, hoping what she was telling Anne would sink in. "Do you still not want this?"
"I don't know...maybe. Maybe I can try to understand all of this," Anne started to say. "Maybe as long as he's around, I think that I can get through this."
"You sure will; I'm sure of it," Buffy said confidently. "Ready to start?" She raised her hand and kissed her fingertips before reaching out and laying her fingers on Anne's forehead.
~~~
 
TBC...

Comments? Questions? No flames please, but I'd love to know what you think of the story.





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