Year 2004, Center of The Hellmouth

She barely paid noticed as the remaining girls frantically tried to exit out of the faltering Hellmouth. All she saw – all her mind allowed her to focus on was Spike, and his falter under the power of the amulet she had given him. Of course, she had known there would be consequences, and she had been proud that he had known it as well. There was rarely an apocalypse in which no one died, hardly ever one in which someone volunteered to. So as she stood in front of him she wouldn’t have wished different.

Over the course of six years, he had become her champion.

He glowed as he stood proudly, sending rays of light out into the hellmouth, hardly noticing that she had final gotten to his side. It was first that she had ever worry about him. Her heart raced at his sighting, she could barely stand at the thought of him in pain. As always it seemed like her pain transferred into his. His dazed eyes regaining focus as he realized that she had not yet left his side. Hoarsely, he whispered,“Go on, then.”

“No,” she replied frantically. “No, you've done enough. You could still— ”

He stood his head. “No, you've beat them back. It's for me to do the cleanup.”

She winced as the walls crumbled around her. “Buffy, come on!” She heard Faith call down to her.

“Gotta move, lamb,” he said, looking at her with the same fondness he had showed her a millions of times before. “I think it's fair to say school's out for bloody summer.”

“Spike!” She tried one last time.

“I mean it! I gotta do this,” he replied, blocking her out as he held his hand out to stop her. It was about the millionth time she realized that she didn’t want to let him go, as she laces her fingers through his. But it was the first time she realized that he was the one she wanted to live with, no matter what the consequences were. Him, and no one, she thought, as their hands bursted into flames together.

He was different.

Softly, she looked into his eyes. “I love you.”

She could see for a moment his trice decision to leave the hellmouth as it was. The Spike from her past wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

Instead this new Spike smirked, and scoffed: “No, you don't. But thanks for saying it.”

And as the earth shook once more, she reluctantly let go his hand and follow his request to left his side. It was hardly what she wanted to do. Now that she had said it, she wanted to scream it over and over again that she loved him. Say it at least one more time before he died. But oddly enough, he was doing the same thing for her. Screaming over and over again how much he loved her as he burned away into ashes. He wanted to see how it ended, she heard him say as he boasted with laugh.

He was right. Sunnydale was where he belonged in the end.

Whether not or it was with her.

Year 2000, location Sunnydale
Episode: Fool For Love

Buffy shivered.

As she stood outside in what could be considered the coldest night in Sunnydale history, she once again wondered why she had left her warm, and comfy bed to haunt the dauntingly familiar cemetery of Sunnydale, California. It wasn’t until she felt the sharp pain in her abdominal area that she realized it was for good reasons.

She needed to find Spike.

Last night, coming short of a complete nightmare, it had forced her to come to terms with a startling revelation. It was hard to admit, even now, but on the eve of what had been a normal patrol she had ended up in what could have been her final fight with the undead. As hard as it was to say, hard to put into words -- she had almost died. Scary, truly, to any person put in that kind of situation – but to Buffy it had been different. To Buffy, having her own stake turned against her, as frightening as she had pictured it being, hadn’t made her scared at all.

And that the problem. It was – no, she didn’t want to think about that.

If Riley hadn’t of been there – she stopped at the thought, remembering her descent into a consecrated cloak of darkness. As much as she tried to rationalize what happened; that she could have run, that she could have regain the upper hand in the fight -- there was nothing she could have done on her own to stop what was evidently going to happened that night.

She didn’t know why that was.

But Spike knew.

He had killed two Slayers. And she needed him to tell her how.

She needed to figure this death thing out.

Figure out, why she had been so close to it. Furthermore, she needed to know why it wasn’t troubling her the way it should. She should have been petrified to be at the cemetery alone once again, barely three hours after her own stake had been turned on her and Riley had come to her rescue. But she wasn’t.

And she knew there was only one person that could help.

The only person who would tell her the truth, she thought, as a crack of thunder caught her attention.

--

Stake me, he thought as his senses came back to him.

Standing cautiously, as his mind finally came to grip, Spike groggily realized that he wasn’t in LA anymore; The foggy background and pitiful cemetery only served to reaffirm it for him. After all the years he had stayed in Sunnydale, he still didn’t know why. Moreover, he hadn’t even questioned it until now. It always seemed to make sense that if Buffy was there, that’s where he needed to be at time. And he imagined the same theory applied today.

Because as many times as Spike had second guessed time travel in the past, all those reservations went away as his eyes landed on what he could tell was Buffy Summers.

--

She was in pain.

She couldn’t believe the pain she was in. Her body felt like it had been hit by a truck, and her head felt like it was about to explode at any moment. When she opened her eyes, she had no idea who was responsible, but she had no problem taking it out on her nearest victim. “Spike,” Buffy hissed, as he kneeled down cautiously in front of her. “What the hell did you do to me? How did I get on the floor?”

She hardly noticed his lack of response, as the pain swelling in her head heightened, the pain in her abdomen doubling. She closed her eyes again, hoping the pain would go away – and maybe, that Spike would too. However when she opened her eyes again both were still there. And on top of it, Spike was still staring at her oddly.

“What happened?” She asked through clenched teeth. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

His brow wrinkled in confusion. He looked like he had seen a ghost, or worse. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought she had grown two heads, and then she remembered the quirky qualities of the Hellmouth. Better to check, she thought to herself, as bought her hand to her throbbing head and continued to search her body for any defects. When she looked back up with complete satisfaction, Spike still hadn’t spoken a word. Tiring of being observed and obviously feeling the weight of the last few hours finally catching up with her, Buffy really lost her patience.

“Fine,” she said, barely gathering the strength to stand up. “Don’t say anything at all.”

--

As the Slayer stumped off, it barely registered to him that he had said nothing. He always knew it’d be strange seeing the Slayer at the age of eighteen again, but he hadn’t realized until now how strikingly disarming it could really be.

Her innocence.

That’s what struck him first.

She turned her back to him. Even in her raging fury, puerility could not attributed to her unreasonable trust in him.

It was so sad she’s going to lose it all by the end of this year.

“Slayer,” he yelled out, in an angry resignation. “I need to talk to you.”

He could tell she was hesitate to comply, as she slowly came to a stop. Turning around carefully she hissed, “Stay out of my sight, Spike.”

“Why?” he asked, as he slowly walked up to her. He could see the little machines working in her head as she watched him talk. “Afraid you might hear something you don’t like? ”

She took a step back. “What do you want?”

“A truce.”

He remembered the last time he had ask for first. She didn’t believe him – at first. Something told him, that she wanted to this time. She was studying him, had been since she had come back into consciousness. He was sure there were differences in him that she noticed. His darkish blonde hair color, the deep embedded burn mark on cheek, were some physical differences. The way he walked, the way his eyes meet up to her – or didn’t, there were definitely changes in him that she seemed to notice about him that weren’t immediate: He wasn’t scared of her, he wasn’t trying to impress her and most importantly he wasn’t in love with her.

“You’re not Spike,” she finally breathed out.

“I’m not,” he easily agreed, having decided that the truth would be the best approach to this situation. And in true slayer fashion, she pulled her favorite stake on him, not giving him a second to let the conversation get past introductions. “Then who are you?” She demanded, pressing the stake firmly to his heart. He snorted, more concerned with what he should say rather than the actual stake in her hand. “I’d love to tell you without that stake piercing at my heart,” he told to her.

He could tell from her hesitant stance that she was thinking about letting him go, then gave him a surprised look at doing so. For a Slayer who had a policy of stake first and ask questions later, his case seemed to unique. He figured it was curiosity that made her consider otherwise

“Fine,” she said, placing the stake back in the depth of her coat pocket. “You’ve got 10 seconds.”

He backed away slowly from her, and took a seat on a nearby headstone. “It’s complicated,” he struggled, before rolling his eyes and replying, “Well – actually it’s really simple. I’m from the future.”

She blinked.

It couldn’t be and if it was, Buffy couldn’t believe her life.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” she huffed, as he looked to her in confusion.

“You couldn’t come up with something more original, like a demon came and split me in two, or I’m a doppelganger from another dimension. You are really looking to get staked tonight, aren’t you?” She jested in disbelief. She had heard everything in her small lifetime, but this story topped the cake. It was dumbest thing she had ever heard Spike say -- even if it wasn’t necessarily Spike.

She should be storming off, moreover, she should be staking Spike. She didn’t know why in her right mind she was giving him the time of day, but for some reason this whole freak show had become interesting. With nothing more to do that night (and a question of her own to ask as well), she slowly took a seat on the headstone across from his.

Finally she said what she thought he had been waiting to hear.

“Fine. Prove it,” she told him.

--

Prove it.

It wasn’t actually what he expected to hear, but obviously something he should have been prepared for. With a sigh, he began to look around trying to figure out where and when he was. A cemetery, at night, during a fog. That’s about all he could gather. Sufficed to say, that was definitely not enough to prove his case. He was about to tell her as much, when he saw her wince in pain. He knew when the portal had opened, it had thrown her roughly, but not enough for her to be hurt as she was. He could also tell as he sniffed the air that her wound was anything but new.

And there it was again, that look in her eyes that told him she needed something.

Her eyes stared him down, reserved yet pleading. She didn’t want it to show but he could hear her call for his help, something only a person in trouble, would ask for. He didn’t know as of yet what year he had landed into, but he knew for a fact that it was before they had become friends. And if she needed to ask for help from someone who was still her mortal enemy, then she must was really be in trouble.

The more he went with that theory, the more he could smell the blood seeping from her wound. There was something about this night, maybe not as of yet, but soon enough that was going change her life.

“You got hurt last night,” he went with. She seemed unconvinced with his answer, but she was right. It did prove nothing. Nothing except for the fact that he was a possible stalker – and that wasn’t too far from the truth anyway. He had watched his Slayer for years, knew that when she went home at night she was secretly in pain; Slayers got hurt everyday on the job.

“Right,” he huffed. Trying to recall what must have been the few times while they were mortal enemies, that she had needed his help.

And then he hit him like a ton of bricks.

It was the night she came to him about the other Slayers. It was also around the time, things begin to get crazy with all that Key business. But what exactly should he tell her? He knew he couldn’t tell her everything. The future was very a tricky subject. There were things he supposed that she should know, but there were others – he couldn’t fix everything. However, he needed to tell her something, “Your Watcher’s Council,” he decided, his apparent dislike for the Council seeping in his voice. “Talk to them recently?”

Her brows crinkled in confusion. “The Council?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Since they’ll be coming to town soon looking to test you. And its not going to be a pretty picture...”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

He shrugged. “They’ll be coming to town probing, asking questions -- looking around, trying to find out all your little secrets. Lucky for you, your friends don’t have the answers. They’re just as in the dark as all your little Watchers are. They all don’t know about your big secret,” he finished, after cautiously picking his word. He didn’t want to say her name. Not when they were out in the open, where anyone could hear. Unfortunately, from the look she was giving him, he didn’t have much choice.

He stalled, looked up at the horizon, realizing it was just before Dawn.

With a sigh, he decided it was time to stop edging around the subject and tell her something that he knew she had told no one else.

“All those false memories to make you feel the way you do,” he decisively said. “All that love that wasn’t there in the first place. The Key, it hits a little too close to home, doesn’t it, Slayer?”


--

She knew what he was insinuating.

The fake memories, the mystical powers. Dawn, her very own sister, was the Key. Her basic instinct was strong. Her brain screamed to kill him where he stood. She hadn’t told anyone besides Giles, for fear that they would expose her secret. Yet, this person she hadn’t even thought to tell, knew everything. She could quickly reach for her stake, stick with her original plan and attack without the conversation. But from the way he looked at her, she could tell he already knew what was coming. Furthermore, something told her that he’d disappear before she even stood up to stake him.

New plan.

He knew about Dawn, that was for sure. He hadn’t outwardly saying it though. It could be that he was teasing her, taunting her with the secret that had been haunting her for the last few weeks. Still, she didn’t think that was it.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed as if he hadn’t said Dawn’s name for fear of her own safety. Because he worried -- for her safety. He could have easily said Dawn’s name out loud with no discern. If he was lucky, one of Glory’s minions would be standing nearby to hear and with no way to out maneuver Glory, Buffy would be an obsolete member of the Slayer line.

But – he hadn’t took that chance.

With sigh, she realized that anyone who was willing to protect her family, deserved at least a chance to explain themselves.

“I swear if you tell anyone,” she threatened to him first.

“Don’t worry,” he finished quickly, but hardly stomping her fear. “I won’t.”

“Then what do you want?” She asked, crossing her arms.

He paused. “You believe me?”

Maybe.

“No”, she replied quickly, with the shake of her head. “But I’m willing to hear you out. What do you want from me?”

“Help,” he grimaced, as if it hurt him to admit it and it caused her to wince as well. Never in her life had she thought of herself as the desperate type. She was strong, cunning, resourceful – some the same words she would use to describe Spike. Yet, here they were taking on what could be the rockiest alliance in slayer history because they were both in need of help. The circumstances were anomalistically in nature.

She needed him. He needed her.

Those same two thoughts raced through her head, knocking both of them from the pedestal she had made for them. Even with all their strength and wit, the world had still managed to make both of them victims.

Never had she thought of Spike as a victim before –

And she told him as much, telling him she didn’t know what she could do to help him. In a sentence, he explained what he was sent here to do. He wanted to change to the future. Or as he explained in little detail, a part of their future.

“I want to leave town this time around – ”

She looked to him with discomfort. She was reserved to his request. Part of her was discomforted by that sentence. The other half was bothered by his tone. It was the way he talked to her, his shortened response, and the lack of passion in his eyes that made her uncomfortable with him. The Spike she knew would never volunteer to leave town. The fact that this Spike took it so lightly scared her about the future, and how oddly enough, this Spike seemed to be unhuman. For the first time in her life she wished the real Spike was there.

Skepticism crossed her face. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“We’ll just change a few things,” he pushed.

“Still sounds dangerous.”

He shrugged, and retorted, “If the wrong person does it, yes.”

She raised her eyebrow. “And I’m suppose to trust you?”

He frowned, and he answered: “Who else do you have to trust?”

And when she thought about it, she realized that he was right. Oddly enough, there was no one else she could talk to - no one who she could rely on. In a world full of Watchers, gods and humans, William the Bloody was the only one who made sense.

“Fine, what do I have to do?”