Prologue

The night after the Hellmouth collapsed


He woke up with a start, his body jumping as if he had just crashed into the pavement. His body felt sore, like he had just ran a marathon without any pit stops to rest his tired muscles. Slowly raising himself up off the cold and wet ground, trying not to irritate his sore muscles the best he could, he got into a sitting position, his back up against the wall. It was raining, he noticed, the droplets of water flattening his hair to his head. 'Well this is just great,' he thought, rubbing his shoulders to subdue the pain.

He rested his head against the wall, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes, trying to remember what he had been doing last and what had caused him to be lying face down in an alley. After much thinking, he realized had no clue how he got where he was, wherever he was, or why his body was so tired and sore. He didn't remember what he had been doing before waking up or where he was from. He didn't even know what his name was.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying his hardest to remember, but his mind was a complete blank. Nothing.

He started to panic.

Forgetting the pain in his body, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered out of the alley. When he got to the opening, he looked left, finding nothing but the empty road and lit up store signs. Upon looking right, he saw a woman walking towards him, an umbrella over her head to keep the water from drenching her already semi-wet clothes.

He stopped her, grabbing the woman by her arm. “Do you know who I am?” he asked, hoping that the lady could help him. When the lady shook her head, a glint of fear in her eyes, Spike grabbed the woman's hand. "Please, help me!"

“No,” she replied. “I don't know you! Now, get your hands off of me!”

He growled, feeling a strange sensation, as if the bones and skin of his face were moving and changing as he got angrier. The woman let out a shriek as she tried to push him away from her. Her struggling only served to make him angrier.

Without thinking, he lunged at her throat, his teeth sinking into her skin and he sucked, pulling her blood into his mouth. He didn't understand why he had the sudden need to do this to the poor woman, he just did it by instinct, tiny whispers in his head telling him to take her. To taste her.

It was then that he noticed that he could smell her blood, the tangy aroma of iron and something undeniably human. He could hear her heartbeat, slowly becoming fainter as he drank her life source. He could also smell something that made him want to bite harder, to take more blood from her body. He didn't know what it was, but it was intoxicating. He wanted more blood. He wanted more.

When he heard her heart beat for the last time, he let the body drop, the heavy thud making him smile. He gave her a nudge with his boot, turning her lifeless body so he could look into her eyes.

Wrong move.

As soon as he saw the dull glaze over her eyes, the empty pits of lifelessness, he felt his chest clench. Seeing her like that snapped him out of the bizarre sort of trance he'd been in. “What... what have I done?!” he cried out, pulling the woman into his arms as tears silently fell from his eyes.

He held the body for what felt like hours, slowly rocking back and forth as guilt filled him. He didn't understand why he had wanted to kill her so badly. He didn’t know who – or what - the hell he was. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be the cause of anymore death. He didn’t want to kill anyone else. He needed to find out who he was.

He searched the woman’s coat, looking for a wallet, or something that could tell him who she was. Finding nothing, he noticed her purse and picked it up, rifling through it until he found her wallet. He opened it, pulling the first card out and looking at the name.

“I'm sorry, Zoey,” he whispered as he looked at the pictures in the clear plastic slots.

One was of a little girl and a boy. Another was one of Zoey with a man, smiling as they held hands. He pulled both pictures out, looking on the back for names. The little girl’s name was Alicia and the boy's name was Zach. The man with Zoey was Matt.

He felt his heart lurch; knowing that she had a family only made the guilt worse.

“I'm so sorry,” he said one more time before he got up and walked away. He hated to just leave her there on the sidewalk like a discarded piece of trash, but he had to run, he had to get far, far away from there.

He didn't know where he was going, but he would know when he got there. The first thing he wanted to do, the only thing on his mind, was to curl up in a ball and wait for the stolen heat in his body to go away.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter One

Three months later


Buffy threw back the shot that was handed to her, grimacing at the taste. She wondered why it still affected her, considering she had been drinking almost every day straight for the last month and a half, and yet her throat still burned as she swallowed.

She remembered drinking with Spike in his crypt, how he got that cute little smile every time she took a shot. She smiled at that memory, but the smile was short lived. She’ll never see him smile like that again.

“Gimme a... another,” she said, waving her hand at the green demon who was serving her. “Make it stronger.”

Lorne laughed, shaking his head as he pulled the bottle of tequila off the shelf. “Buffy, honey, are you sure you want something stronger? I mean, I love to drink with you, but you're coming up on your limit pretty quickly.”

“Shhhhhhush!” She giggled. “I have no limit, for I am the almighty Slayer!” She pounded her chest for effect, rubbing the pain away discreetly.

“Yeah, the almighty Pain-In-My-Ass,” he scoffed as he poured the golden liquid into another shot glass, then a second one for himself. “To lost lovers, huh?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, throwing the alcohol back and popping the proffered lemon wedge into her mouth. “To Spike.”

Turning her back on the demon to hide the tears in her eyes, she tried to focus her attention to the singing demon on the stage. She couldn't tell what he... she... it was singing, but she found herself swaying to the beat, trying to ignore the horrible voice. “Lorne?” she asked, her eyes closing as she listened.

“What do you want, Sugarplum?”

“I want to sing,” she said, her voice becoming determined. “I want to get a reading, now.”

She had been denying Lorne every time she came to the newly reopened Caritas, telling the green demon that she didn't want anyone poking about in her head. She had thought about it for a long time, thinking more and more about the good things that could come from a reading. Lorne could help her. He could tell her where he went. Heaven? Hell? Purgatory? If he was okay, wherever he was. Maybe he was still alive... she knew that idea was far fetched, considering she had seen him start to burn up with her own eyes, but she needed to know. Buffy was hesitant to do any kind of ‘bringing Spike back’ spell because of what she’d personally been through. What if he’d ended up in a good place and she yanked him away from it like her friends had done to her? She couldn’t take that chance. That meant that her only hope was that Spike had somehow survived, and he was out there somewhere. She needed to know if she would ever see him again. Lorne could answer her questions, at least some of them. He could set her on the right path to get to him, and she wanted that desperately.

When he died, she’d felt like she'd died with him. She felt so lost and alone without him around, and she wanted him back. If there was any way she could have him back, except resurrection - that way lays badness - she would do it. Whatever it took, even if she had to sing. 'I'm not ready for you not to be here...'

“Really?!” Lorne asked, feeling excited already. He was a minute away from reading the best Slayer that had ever lived. If that didn't bring excitement to an empath demon, he didn't know what would. “Of course you can! Go, get your cute butt on up there and sing to your heart’s desire!”

Buffy nodded once, picked up the bottle of tequila and took a pull before she headed over to the stage. She chose a song on the karaoke screen, then picked up the microphone.


She listened to the opening chords of the song with her eyes closed, knowing that she wouldn't need to read the words. She knew this song backwards and forwards. When it was time, she started to sing.

I miss those blue eyes,
How you kissed me at night,
I miss the way we sleep,
Like there's no sunrise,
Like the taste of your smile,
I miss the way we breathe,

Lorne stopped what he was doing, almost dropping the glass in his hand, as he was hit with the onslaught of emotion coming from the Slayer. He felt his knees wobble with the weight of the world that was brought down on his shoulders. Everything. Everything - from before she was called - right up to what she was feeling that very moment was being conveyed to him. She wasn't holding back, wanting him to read everything. He knew what she was looking for, and he couldn't help. Not that he didn't want to. He did. He wanted to help heal the pain in her heart, but the path she wanted to be directed to would only lead to something bad. He knew what was coming, and she needed to stay away from her fallen lover to prevent it from happening.

But I never told you,
What I should have said,
No I never told you,
I just held it in,
And now I miss everything about you,
I can’t believe that I still want you,
After all the things we've been through,
I miss everything about you,
Without you,

“Lorne!” Angel said, as he walked up to his friend, seeing the tears in his red eyes. “You okay? You look like you're gonna... Buffy?!”

I see your blue eyes,
Every time I close mine,
You make it hard to see,
Where I belong to when I'm not around you,
It’s like I'm gone with you,

Angel stood there, his jaw dropped as she sang. She was like an angel, her voice reaching every note, low or high. When he heard her singing about a pair of blue eyes, he quickly shut his mouth and turned to the teary-eyed demon. “What are you getting from her?! Why is she singing about Spike?!”

“Zip it, Angel,” Lorne said with a frown. “I'm not telling you anything. Client to empath demon confidentiality.”

But I never told you,
What I should have said,
No I never told you,
I just held it in,
And now I miss everything about you,
Still you're gone,
I can’t believe that I still want you,
I'm in love with you, I never should have walked away,
After all the things we've been through,
I miss everything about you,
Without you,

Buffy placed the microphone on the stand, taking a bow in front of the audience, smiling softly at the applause. She'd heard that song on the radio and had become hooked to it, it reminded her too much of Spike to ignore. She knew that when she got home tonight, she wouldn't be able to sleep. That song always made her want to cry like a baby. She had to hold it in now, though. She had to wait to let the tears flow freely.

She walked over to Lorne, cursing under her breath when she saw Angel. She was lucky the effects of the alcohol had worn off whilst she was on stage, otherwise he would chastise her - again - about drinking by herself. 'Some demon could come and kill you! You have to keep your wits about you, not drown yourself in liquor!' She scoffed, her inner voice imitating Angel. What did he know?

“Angel,” she said, crossing her arms. “What're you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?! What about you? And you're singing about Spike!”

“So?” both Lorne and Buffy said, giving the soulful vampire a scowl.

“I... I just... oh, never mind. I have to talk to you, Buffy. Something is--”

“I'm busy,.” she stated flatly, giving him a not-so-gentle push to the side so she could sit in front of Lorne. “So, what did you get from... you know what? How about we go somewhere else, so Mr. Broody-Pants can't hear us?”

Angel groaned. He really wanted to know what Lorne had read from her, but it looked like he wouldn't get a chance. He watched as Lorne and Buffy walked near the stage, leaning in closer to each other so they could whisper. They were drowned out by the music, despite his enhanced vampire hearing.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“You're not gonna like it, Sugarplum,” Lorne said, a sad look on his face. “I saw everything. And when I say everything, I mean the whole enchilada. I saw your parents’ divorce, Merrick's death, right up to your last moments with Spike.”

Buffy took a deep breath, ready to hear the 'bad news'. “Okay, just tell me. I can take it.”

“Spike is alive,” he blurted, taking a step back from the Slayer. He could see a smile start to bloom on her lips. “But...”

Her face fell. “I knew there would be a but. You had 'but face'.”

Lorne smiled sadly. “But... You can't go find him. In fact, you should stay as far away from him as you can. I know you don't want to hear this, but you might as well forget about him. He can't come--”

“Shut up,” she said, her tone deadly. When Lorne went to say something else, she held her hand up, stopping him.

She took a couple of steps away, afraid that she'd rip the friendly demon's head off. “You're telling me that the one thing that I want more than anything, I have to live without? You're saying that I should forget about him?!” She all but screamed the last part, her voice getting shrill with the threat of tears. “Well, screw you!”

Lorne watched hopelessly as she turned around and ran, with Angel close behind her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Buffy!” Angel called, as he tried to catch up to her. “Buffy, wait!”

“Go. Away,” she ground out, her teeth clenched so tightly it was a wonder she hadn’t chipped any of them. She wasn't in the mood for any company.

“Buffy, just... Please talk to me. I need to tell you something.”

“No! Whatever it is that you have to tell me can wait until tomorrow. I'm going home to bed. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight!”

Angel stopped in his tracks, watching her as she walked the rest of the way to the Hyperion. He knew that when she wanted something, she would stop at nothing to get it. She really wanted to be alone. He needed to tell her what was going on, but it could wait for tomorrow.

He also feared that if he did anything to further piss her off, she might just stake him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Angel walked back to the demon bar, focused on one thing, and one thing only. He needed to find out what Lorne had seen. If Buffy's mood was anything to go by, it wasn't good. Maybe he could do something to help? He would try his damn hardest to make her feel batter. Unless it had something to do with Spike. That peroxided pest should stay dead. 'Useless piece of crap...'

“Lorne!” the vampire barked. “Get your green ass over here!”

Lorne followed his orders, begrudgingly. He didn't like to be ordered around, but he knew he couldn't avoid this conversation either way. “What do you want, Mr. Broody-Pants?”

“I don't bro... you know what? I don't care about that right now. What I want to know is what you saw--”

“I know, I know. But, really, Angelcakes, I can't tell you,” Lorne replied with a shrug of his well-dressed shoulders.

“Don't make me hit you...” the vampire said, his voice menacing.

“You wouldn't!” Lorne chuckled, unaffected by the threat. “I know you, Mr. Soulful. You wouldn't hurt a friendly demon, let alone your friend. Well, unless you're Merl...”

“You don't think I'll do it?” Angel asked, surprised that he wasn't as threatening as he used to be.

At Lorne's head shake, Angel growled and pulled the demon into a headlock, yanking him outside and into the alleyway. He released the demon and grabbed his vibrant green lapel with one hand, using his other to create a raised fist. “Still don't think I'll do it?”

“Come on, Angel,” Lorne said, his voice wavering. “Don't you think you're taking this a little too far?!”

Angel cocked back is fist again, this time more determined. He was about to let his fist fly, but growled instead, letting Lorne go. He couldn't hit Lorne, he was too good of a friend. "Fine, I don't think I could have hit you anyway," the vampire sighed.

Suddenly, a thought came to his mind and an evil smile spread across his face. "But, I can sing."

"What?" Lorne asked, his face getting greener, if possible.

"I swear, if you don't tell me what I want to know, I'll park my lily white ass on that stool and I'll sing every single song on that machine -twice- every day until you tell me."

Lorne’s eyes widened comically, making himself look like a cartoon character. If Angel got on that stage and sang that much, his patrons would clear out and stay away, possibly forever. Also, he'd have Angel's nail-on-chalkboard voice stuck in his head for God knows how long, and that was scarier than any fist near his precious nose. “Okay! Okay!” Lorne begged. “I'll tell you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy walked up to her hotel room, glad that Angel had enough room to house Dawn, the potentials and herself for a while until they figured things out. Giles was already in England with Willow and Xander, trying to put things back together to get something going for the other Slayers around the world. Andrew was still around, alive and annoying. He often cooked the big meals for everyone, loving the huge kitchen with industrial supplies in the basement. His room was down there now, and he hardly left the lower floor.

Faith and Robin had left the fold, wanting to live their life traveling the world, killing demons and taking whatever city they went to by storm. Buffy knew that the reformed Slayer was in good hands with Robin. No matter how much he had pissed her off back in Sunnydale, he was still a good guy, and he was the best guy for Faith. Buffy knew they were happy.

Besides, they sent postcards.

Dawn and some of the Slayers-in-Training went to school. Dawn had gone back as per Buffy's command, the others because they wanted some semblance of normalcy in their crazier-by-the-day lives. Buffy felt for them, knowing it would only get worse.

Angel and his gang, Wesley, Gunn, Fred, Connor and Cordy still lived in or around the Hyperion, running their business, as usual. Supposedly, they had been offered some deal with the big and evil law firm, Wolfram and Hart, but they had declined. They’d all thought that it was an amazing offer, but they also knew it was too risky. Too many things in the fine print that they might not notice until it was too late.

Buffy was glad they hadn't taken that offer, otherwise she wouldn't know where she would be now. She didn't talk with Angel as much as she used to, but she didn't want Angel to be swallowed up by an evil law firm either.

Buffy stripped off her clothing as she walked to the bed, thinking about everything that had just transpired. Lorne said to stay away from Spike, even though he was alive. Like hell she would! Now that she knew he was alive, she would stop at nothing to get him back. Buffy wished she hadn't gotten so emotional back at the bar, she could have asked more questions to find out if Lorne knew where Spike was before she ran off. But she could always talk to him again once she calmed down.

“I'll come for you, Spike. I swear.” She whimpered into the darkened room as the tears finally fell.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lorne and Angel had migrated into the bar after Lorne closed for the night, getting all the demons to go home before he had the discussion with Angel.

“Okay,” Angel sighed, watching as the last demon filed out the door. He found it hard to abide the 'no violence' rule while he was this angry with the world. But he managed, barely. “Now tell me what you saw.”

“Fine. But you're not gonna like it,” Lorne said as he went behind the bar, preparing himself a stiff drink for the conversation he was about to have. “Spike's alive.”

“You're right,” Angel grumbled. “I don't like it already.”

“I saw everything, Angel! I saw what school she went to as a child. The day she was called. The day she met you and lost you. You're an ass, by the way. The way you left her was horribly cliché.”

“Get on with it,” the vampire growled.

“Well, let's just say that Buffy can't get back together with Spike.”

“Not that I’m opposed to that idea, buy why not?”

“Because,” the green demon continued, taking a deep breath. “If they get back together, it will bring forth the next and final apocalypse.”

TBC

“What do you mean 'the next and final apocalypse’? ” Angel asked, inching closer to the bar.

“Exactly what I said, Angel! If Spike and Buffy get back together, it sets off some big prophecy that will start an apocalypse in turn. I don't know what the prophecy is, I don't know if it’s destined to be, I just know that it will be of mucho badness if it happens.” Lorne took a big gulp of his drink, gesturing for Angel to leave so the green demon could rest his sore head. “I suggest you get your little gang on it, put Wesley the Watcher to work, tell him to look in his big book of prophecies. Now, I need to get me some sleep before I pass out. Buffy's reading was a doozie.”

Angel grumbled a goodnight before he left. He had so many questions, but he knew the Empath Demon was tapped for knowledge. Lorne was always forthcoming with answers, cryptic as they might be, but he was never wrong. Angel would just have to follow Lorne's orders and get Wesley on it.

Angel wasn't going to breathe a word of it to Giles, though. Angel knew that if Buffy's watcher found out, Buffy would be the next to know and Angel wanted to keep her in the dark until he found out more.

When he got to the hotel, he went straight to bed, ignoring Buffy's sobs as he tried to get some sleep. Sometimes, he wanted to just go into her room and hold her until she stopped crying. But he knew that she wouldn't accept his comfort. He knew that her heart was no longer his. All because of Spike, just like everything seemed to be, lately.

As Angel's eyes slowly drifted closed, he vowed to talk to Wesley in the morning. And possibly do a locator spell to find Spike. Angel was now dreading the possibility of Spike showing up here looking for Buffy. If Angel could get to the peroxide blonde first, he could take care of the whole prophecy deal and save the world in advance.

All he needed was a stake.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was dark around him, nothing but a big expanse of nothingness. He held his hands up to his face, surprised he could see his body perfectly, as if he wasn't affected by the blackness that surrounded him. He put his arms out in front of him, feeling each step he took so he wouldn't bump into anything.

With every step he took, it felt like he wasn't getting anywhere. Each step didn't matter; he was just standing in the same place. He didn't understand.

He gave up on walking and just stood in the darkness, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

“Hello?!” he called out, not even an echo responding. Nothing in this world felt real, and it chilled him to the core. He figured it must be a dream, much like the other ones he'd been having. “Whoever’s out there, I'd like to wake up now!”

Still, nothing responded.

He growled and closed his eyes in frustration, clenching his fists and jaw. “I don't care about your cryptic messages! I don't care about anything, just let me out of here!”

"But you can't leave. Not yet,” a gentle voice said from behind him. “You need to see.”

He spun around, coming face to face with more darkness. “Bloody hell,” he sighed, knowing it was no use trying to see anything. “Get on with it, then.”

"You need to see, Spike. You need to know."

“What do I need to know?!” He called out, trying his hardest not to vamp out. “Why're you callin' me Spike? My name is Matt!”

"Ah, yes." The voice giggled. "Zoey's husband. Do you really think that the woman you killed would want you to take her husband's name?"

Matt clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the pang of guilt that lanced through his body. "My. Name. Is. Matt."

"But you're Spike, you see. You've always been Spike.”

He was becoming very irritated with this voice, wanting nothing more than to wake up. He couldn't have helped his actions back then, he hadn’t had a clue what he was. The demon inside of him had been in full control, but now that Matt had learned how to control it, he hadn't killed another person after that night.

Suddenly, he started to feel warm as he was illuminated with light that came from behind him. He slowly turned around, afraid of what he would see. “I don't know any Spike,” he said cautiously, keeping the conversation going.

When he was finally facing the light, his breath caught in his throat. She was like an angel, her hair gently billowing around her as if a fan was strategically placed to make her golden locks stand out. He couldn't see any facial features, except for her eyes. Vibrant green eyes with flecks of yellow and brown bore down on him, making him want to weep. He fell to his knees as his body was filled with longing and love. It was like he was pulled to this angelic creature, like she was the path to his salvation.

“Who... who are you?” he asked, his voice wavering.

“I'm what you seek. I'm who you need to find out your past. Search for me, Spike. Look for the woman who holds your heart.”

As she started to fade away, he held his hand out to her, silently begging her not to leave. He wanted her to stay, to keep his cold body warm for just a minute longer. “Wait! How will I know where to find you? How will I know where you are?”

She never answered. Instead of hearing her voice, his head was suddenly filled with voices. Hundreds of voices that were chanting, whispering, screeching and filling his head with words. His hands came up to his ears as he crashed to the hard ground, curling up in a fetal position to try and drown out the voices.

'When the Killer of Slayers reunites with the Killer of demons,
Blood will be shared, Blood will be binding
Dimensions will bend and shift
And bring...'

Matt awoke, quickly sitting upright, panting for unneeded breath. He hated having these weird dreams, but they had been coming more frequently as time passed. This was the first time he had seen the actual form of the woman he spoke to. Or at least some of her, anyway. Usually she was just a voice, or a swirly ball of light, but this time she was almost real. All he had seen was her hair and eyes, but it was enough to make him yearn for her.

He needed to find her, to find out who he was.

He already knew that he was a vampire, he had figured that out the hard way. When he first woke up with this amnesia, he had searched for answers. Traveling the world for someone that could tell him who he was. He got the money to travel by stealing or doing odd jobs for cash. Sometimes he had to stow away in the luggage compartment of planes or ships for the further distances. He started out in England, and slowly worked his way to L.A., finding every psychic or wizard that could help him.

Finally, he found a Shaman in New York, some magical bloke who did a spell, to try and bring his memories back. But he had failed miserably, only hitting a block that even the most potent of magic couldn't break. The Shaman had revealed that he had a soul, though. One that was anchored and not cursed like that of Angelus. Matt had no clue who Angelus was, and the Shaman wasn't too forthcoming with the information, so Matt gave up and focused on who he was. The Shaman said something about an empath demon in L.A., so Matt started his journey.

He'd been in L.A. for a couple of days now, and knowing that he was a vampire with a soul, he sought to help people. Following his instincts and spending his nights searching for those who needed saving and demons that needed killing. He always knew that there was something missing, something that fit into his life and made everything complete. Made everything clear. But he never found it. He knew where to look now, though, and he had to find a certain empath demon to help him.

Deciding to stop thinking about the dream for now, Matt quickly had a shower and got dressed, sliding his Doc Marten’s and duster into place. The odd looking necklace, the duster and shoes were the only things that he had kept from his past, he had a feeling he was connected to the duster and necklace, for some reason.

And he just liked the boots.

He had changed his whole style from when he woke up, letting his hair grow out to its natural color instead of keeping the peroxide blonde color. He bought lots of new jeans and different shirts too, instead of wearing only one set of clothing every day. He thought that since his body didn't sweat, or do anything else that a regular human body would do, he thought he would save money on clothing.

Boy, was he wrong.

He found that wearing the same clothes every day was a good way to get unclean, very quickly.

Once he was dressed, he left his motel room, knowing that going out to continue his search would keep his mind off the weird dream.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy had slept all day, but for the first time in what felt like years, she woke with a smile. Spike was alive, and she had a chance of finding him. It was the one thing she had been dreaming about since the moment she’d left him behind in the collapsing Hellmouth. She could find him and they could be happy together. The one thing that was nagging at her, was why he hadn't tried to find her. If he was alive, shouldn't he be here, by her side instead of off somewhere else in the world?

That thought made her smile falter a little bit, thinking that maybe Spike had had enough of her, thinking he had already lost enough for her love, only to never gain it in the first place.

But she did love him! She told him so in that cave!

She sighed, remembering the last words he had said to her. 'No you don't, but thanks for saying it...' Stupid, stubborn vampire. If he had believed her, he would be here now, holding her as she woke up from a peaceful sleep by his side. But oh, no! He had to be all unbelieving.

She tossed her blankets off, her mind set on finding Spike and proving to him that she did love him. She didn't know how she would prove it, but when the time came, she'd do it. Anything to get him to be with her and stay for good. She needed him like she needed oxygen, and she wanted him now.

After her shower, she went downstairs to see what everyone was up to. She wanted to tell everyone the good news, but she couldn't find anyone. Even Andrew wasn't in the basement, and she knew he would be overly happy to hear the news. She was about to pick up the phone in the front office to call Giles when she heard two voices coming from Wesley's office.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I don't know what else to tell you, Angel. I have to transcribe the ancient text before I can tell you anything more.” Wesley said, eyeing the text. “I say it will take me about... a day or so. I'll go as quickly as I can, but I can't promise you anything.”

“Well, go faster, Wes! If I have to kill Spike, I will. But I have to find him before Buffy does.”

Angel sighed as he flopped down on the chair in front of Wesley, all but glaring at the man as he wrote out some words on a pad of paper. When Wesley raised his head, arching his eyebrow at the vampire, Angel shrugged. “What?”

“I can't concentrate when you're practically breathing down my neck, Angel!”

"I don't breathe." Angel said, matter-of-factly

Wesley rolled his eyes and groaned "I meant, figuratively speaking."

When Angel still didn't leave, Wesley glared at him, making the vampire's frustration grow. “Fine! I'll leave!” Angel barked, then lowered his voice. “Just please, work fast.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy heard Angel coming closer to the door, so she hid behind the pillar, watching as he stormed out of the office and up the stairs.

Angel wanted to find and kill Spike before she could even see him. That made her blood boil. No way was Angel going to take Spike away from her. Again. It was his fault that Spike had worn the amulet in the first place. If only she had let the broody vampire wear the shiny bauble instead of Spike...

'No use thinking about that now, Buffy. What's done is done,' she thought as she quickly and silently made her way to the front door, planning on starting her search for Spike now. 'Now, you just have to make things right, before things get worse...'

TBC

Buffy was restless and felt the irresistible urge to walk through the streets of the city, extending her Slayer senses outward for any sign of Spike. She had been searching for about an hour, never knowing if she was getting closer to him, or further away. She didn't even know if he was in L.A. She needed something more specific, she needed someone who could help her find him quickly, before Angel could. She stopped by Caritas to see if Lorne could tell her anything, but Lorne knew nothing else and he seemed to be annoyed with her. She didn't want to irritate her friend any more than she already had, so she just left.

The more she thought about what Angel was doing behind her back, the more she hated him. He had never done anything right by her in their past, and it just kept getting worse. First it was the whole 'happiness' clause, going off on a killing spree, murdering Jenny, attempting to murder all her friends, including herself. Then, when he did get his soul back, he just left her anyway, not even giving her a choice in the matter.

After he left, there was the following around and staying invisible to her while he could see her whenever he wanted to. That pissed her off to no end. Then he comes around a couple months ago and hans her a necklace, so volatile that it took down the one person who had never left her alone.


And now he wanted to take Spike away again?

Who the hell did he think he was? He hadn't been a real part of her life for a little over four years, and now he thought he could just run it, just like the thought he could when they were together. When she had actually loved him?

Like she would let that happen. He didn't have any right poking around her life, trying to make it better despite what she wanted. She wasn't going to let him control her every move anymore.

She wanted Spike back, and nothing less than her death would stop her.

She was so lost and alone without him, fighting a neverending war without her rock, her everything, was almost pointless. If she never found him, she wouldn't commit suicide, but she would live her life like a shell until death took her. No emotion, nothing but fighting until she threw her last punch.


With Spike around, though... she had a reason to smile, to be happy and to love again. To feel something other than the emptiness that consumed her while he was away.

She needed something to make this search easier. With one thought in mind, she dug her cell phone out of her pocket and flipped it open, dialing the number she knew by memory.

“Hey, Willow?” Buffy asked when a female voice came through the speaker. “I need a favor, will you help me?

“Of course, I will, Buffy. What do you need?”

“Can you do a locator spell?” Buffy held in her sigh, knowing that when she told Willow that Spike was alive, it could go either way. Her best friend was never a big fan of her relationship with the blonde vampire, but she knew Willow would do it reluctantly. “Spike is alive, and I want to find him.”

"Oh my God, Buffy! That's great! I mean, it is... isn't it? Great, I mean. If— if that's what you want, it's great." Willow stammered, not really knowing how to react. On the one hand, Willow was nervous. Spike was a huge factor in Buffy's life, she knew that. But on the other hand, it was Spike. The vampire that had tried to kill her numerous times. He had done lots of bad things in his past, and it made her nervous to know that he was out there. What if he didn't have a soul? Without the chip in his brain, he could be doing God-knows-what, and Buffy wouldn't be able to stop him. They were too evenly matched to defeat each other, and it would kill Buffy to know that he went back to his evil ways. Deciding to do what Buffy wanted, trusting her decision, she reluctantly agreed to help.


“Do you know where he is at all? Like the general area?”

“Of course I think it's great, Wills. I love him,” Buffy didn't hold in her sigh this time, feeling defeated. “And no, I don't know anything. I don't know how he is adjusting, I don't know if he is mad at me, and its all driving me crazy. Do you think you can do it? Help me, I mean?” she asked, her heart heavy with hope.

“Yeah,” Willow smiled, wanting to do anything to make her friend happy. Willow noticed the huge depression Buffy had gone into before she went to England, and from everything that Dawn had told her, it was only getting worse. If finding Spike was what Buffy needed to be happy, Willow wasn't going to stand in her way. Willow just hoped that Spike was still on their side, so Buffy wouldn't have to kill the second vampire to work his way into her heart. “I can do it. I'll call you back in about two hours with information. Talk to you then!”

Then said their goodbyes then hung up, Willow going directly to work and Buffy smiling as she made her way back to the hotel. She was two hours away from knowing exactly where Spike was, and it made Buffy feel a thousand times better than she had the day before.

Buffy walked along the path, her eyes on the sidewalk as she thought about what she would do when she saw him. Lots of different scenarios played through her mind, but not one of them was different. She would just have to wait and find out what would happen when the time came. Thinking about it would only drive her crazy.

“Buffy?” a male voice came from behind her.

She knew it was Angel, and her anger for the vampire surged. She didn't want to talk to him at all, but she had to make him think that she knew nothing about his plan. Instead, she turned around, giving him a small smile as she kicked a pebble on the ground with her shoe. “Hi, Angel.”

“I have to tell you something. I was trying to tell you last night, but you were... well, you know.”

Buffy shrugged, then started to walk beside him back to the Hyperion. “What is it? And please, tell me it involves some major violence.” 'Possibly some 'accidental' violence I could inflict on you...'

Angel chuckled as he put his hands in his pockets, trying to occupy them so he wouldn't reach out to touch her. He wished she still wanted him the way he wanted her, but he knew that would never happen again. He had to live with that fact, and it wasn't easy for him. “Well, it does involve violence, but not in the way you're thinking. What I mean to say is that ever since Willow did that spell to awaken the other Slayers around the world, there has been a huge increase in violence around the world.

“Mostly girls, beating people into unconsciousness all because 'they were mean' to them. There are some instances of murder, and some of girls not even leaving their rooms. Probably afraid of what they’ve turned into. Wesley and I have done a check for anything related in L.A., and we found about fifteen girls who could potentially be Slayers. I was thinking we should go check it out.”

Buffy nodded, letting the newfound information sink in. So, some of the new Slayers were getting drunk on power, and she had no clue how to settle them down. She had to make another phone call to England. But this time, to Giles. See where he was on the whole 'Slayer Overpopulation' crisis.

“Okay,” Buffy said, picking up her pace to get to the hotel faster. “I think we should call Giles. He'll know what we should do.”

Spike wasn't going anywhere she couldn't get to him, so she decided it was okay to deal with the matter at hand. She could continue her search when the matter was resolved.

Besides, she had to wait for Willow anyway.

TBC

Matt walked into the ritzy demon bar, looking around with a quizzical glance. He'd never seen a demon bar that was so... fancy before. They were usually dives, but this place was actually clean. The thing he found most peculiar was the stage and the green demon dressed in an overly colorful suit, belting out the lyrics to a Frankie Lymon song. He was on key too, Matt noticed, holding in his laughter. Frankie Lymon was a fourteen year old. How the demon, who was probably a thousand years older than the original singer, could get his voice so high was beyond Matt.

“Thank you, thank you!” the green demon said as the music slowly faded into silence. “I'll be accepting readings again tonight, but you know the drill! You have to get up and use your vocal chords to the fullest, then come see me. I'll tell you as much as I can! Now, who's first?”

Matt watched as a bunch of demons raised their hands, almost begging to be first. He was reminded of a class of high school students, trying to impress the hot substitute teacher by answering a question. It made him chuckle and shake his head as he walked to the bar.

“Whiskey, straight up,” Matt told the bartender. “Might as well leave the bottle, mate.”

The bartender nodded and placed a shot glass in front of him, filling it with the brown liquid before leaving the bottle with Matt.

“Oh, someone is drinking for two, tonight. Girl troubles?”

Matt turned around, finding the singing demon right behind him. “Not really, more like identity problems. You're the empath demon, right?”

“Come on, I'm not famous enough to be known by name yet? I've probably sold over a thousand CDs to humans and demons around the world, and they can't even pass my name off as Lorne and not Mr. Empath Demon?” Lorne said, shaking his head. “Ingrates, I tell ya'!”

Matt smirked, shrugging his shoulder. “Well, all I know is that a couple of demons told me you could help me, so here I am. I'm not singing though...”

Lorne handed his empty glass to Enrique behind the bar, and accepted the full one filled to the brim. Lorne loved his Sea Breezes. “But you have to. I can't read you any other way.”

“I... I don't think I know any songs to sing. I don't even know my real name. Can't I just hum, or something?”

“That won't be enough. Maybe you could, I don't know, sing any song you can think of. Even if you don't know the words. Just string words together with a tune.” Lorne said, admiring the vampire's amazing cheekbones. “Before you start, I need something to look for. What do you want to know? Start with your name.”

“I call myself Matt, but I don't know my real name. I need to know about my past. Anything you pick up, I want to know. I woke up a couple of months ago with a mystical amnesia. No one has been able to bring my memories back, but I hear you can set me on the right path to get them back.”

“All right, I can probably help you out. Now, sing something already!.”

Matt smiled. A genuine smile, which surprised him. He felt hope flare inside him, knowing he was just minutes away from finding out the truth. He felt like he was getting closer and closer to finding out who he was, and it made him almost dizzy with happiness. He thought for a few moments, trying to come up with something to sing. He decided on a song that had come to him in a dream.

'Early one morning just as the sun was rising, I heard a fair maid sing in the valley below. Oh, don't deceive me. Oh, never leave me. How could you use a poor maiden so?'

Lorne listened to his velvety voice, searching his past for something. He came up with nothing, though. Not even a blip in the vampire's past. Lorne tried to take a look into his future, but he was blocked. It was like Matt was forcing his past onto Lorne so much that he couldn't try to see anything else. He did find out that Matt had a soul and was on the side of good, which was a rarity in vampires. For all Lorne knew, he could have been cursed by Gypsies, forced to fight on the side of good. Lorne thought about Spike for a fleeting second, but knew it wasn't possible that this vampire could be one and the same. From what he had read of Buffy's future, Spike knew who he was. And his hair was platinum blonde.

He had no clue what to tell Matt, but he instantly thought about Angel and his gang. After the little spat he had had with Angel the night before, he was a little wary to send business to him, but he could feel the desperation coming off Matt. Lorne didn't want to hide any information from him, knowing he was an innocent when it came to what had happened the night before. With his mind made up, he motioned for Matt to stop singing.

“Well?” Matt asked, sounding excited.

Lorne frowned and shook his head. “Nope, I didn't get anything on your past.” Lorne's frown deepened at the crestfallen look on the vampire's chiseled face. “However, I do know someone, or some people, who will be able to help you. They’re experts on the supernatural and they will be able to do something for you, I'm sure.”

Matt look relieved as he watched Lorne jot something down on a piece of paper. “Just head on over to this address, and you'll get what you're looking for. Big hotel, can't miss it.”

Smiling, Matt nodded, barely refraining from pulling the demon into a hug while jumping for joy. “Ta, mate,” he said, keeping his cool.

“You're welcome, Matt. Let me know if you find anything out, okay? You should definitely come back, your voice is awesome.”

Matt chuckled and waved at the demon as he walked out. “Like bloody hell I will. I don't want to be put on the spot like that ever again,” he muttered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“So,” Buffy said, sitting down on the round couch in the middle of the Hyperion. “Where do we start, and what do we say to the Slayers. Preferably something that doesn't sound insane, maybe?”

“I don't know, you're the Original Slayer. Connect with them, somehow,.” Dawn said, arranging the papers on the ground so Buffy could read them correctly. “But, if you want my opinion, maybe you should just tell them that they won an incredible vacation to England, and ship 'em off to Giles. I mean, he's a Watcher, right?”

Buffy glared at her, getting the point across that that idea was not a good one. “Somehow, I don't think that will work, Dawnie.”

“It was just a suggestion,” Dawn grumbled. “I'd like to see you come up with something better.”

“I'm just gonna call Giles. Because I'm at a loss for what to do.” Buffy sighed, getting up off the chair to go to the phone.

She dialed the number, remembering the last conversation she had had with Willow. It had been a little over two hours, now. Buffy wondered what was taking her friend so long, but she didn't want to rush the spell, either.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Giles.”

“Oh, Buffy! Just the person I was thinking about calling. Do you have a moment?”

“Uh, yeah. I called you, remember?”

“Right.” Giles smiled, missing her American sarcasm more than he had thought he did. “Well, I wanted to tell you that Willow, Xander and I have come up with a solution to the current predicament. We gathered the other surviving Watchers and talked through some ideas until we came up with the right one.”

“Hold on, let me put you on speaker,” Buffy said, pressing the little red button before hanging up the phone. Only Dawn was there with her, since Angel had gone to talk with Wesley in his office, but Buffy felt that Dawn should hear what Giles had to say too. “Okay, continue.”

“All right. We've decided to start a Slayer school. It will be similar to a college, a boarding school, if you will. All of the girls will tell their parents that they got into a prestigious school here in England and then they will be brought here, so they can study the ways of a Slayer. Now, Willow made a good point, and we thought you might like to be the tie breaker. Some of the other Watchers thought this idea was preposterous, of course, but a lot of others thought it was valid.”

“Okay, what is it?” Buffy asked, feeling a little curious.

“Well, we thought it would be good to give the Slayers a choice. They can either live their lives normally, or come and study here. Now, if they choose to stay where they are, they will be monitored daily by the coven so they don't use their enhanced abilities for the wrong reasons. If they are caught intentionally doing harm to humans in any way, they will be brought back here, without a choice. They only get one chance. The girls that do come here, can leave if they wish to, and will also be monitored. What do you think?”

“Wow, Giles!” Buffy said, a smile blooming on her face. “That’s a great idea! If only I’d had that choice. I think it's totally fair, and I expect you to enforce that rule. Don't let anybody change your mind.”

“I agree,” Dawn said. “That is a good rule.”

“Good, I'll let the others know. Now, what was it that you called me for, Buffy?”

Buffy was about to tell Giles all about the unwatched Slayers, when the door to the hotel jangled, signaling someone's arrival. Buffy quickly glanced behind her, before turning her attention back to the phone. “Well, there’s been an increase in...”

Buffy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, wondering if what she’d just seen was real. She slowly turned around, afraid that her eyes had betrayed her, but when she saw him standing there, looking like a lost puppy, she felt her knees go weak.

“Spike?”

TBC

Buffy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, wondering if what she’d just seen was real. She slowly turned around, afraid that her eyes had betrayed her, but when she saw him standing there, looking like a lost puppy, she felt her knees go weak.

“Spike?” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Matt furrowed his eyebrows, staring at the blonde woman as though she had two heads. “What...?”

“Spike!” Dawn screeched, running towards the vampire and launching herself into his arms. “You came back! I thought you were dead! Where did you go? Are you back for good? This is so great! Buffy, isn't this incredible?”

Buffy remained silent, watching the scene unfold. She had dreamed of this moment, over and over again. Lots of different scenarios. But this was reality, and she couldn't move or speak. She could only watch in awe as the one thing she had been hoping for stood awkwardly in the middle of the hotel lobby.

Matt pushed the girl off of him, keeping her at arm’s length. “Why are you hugging me? And why is everyone calling me Spike?”

“You... you don't know who I am?” Dawn asked, taking a step back. “Buffy!” Dawn hollered. “Something's wrong with Spike!”

Buffy jumped as Wesley's door was wrenched open, revealing a shocked Angel. “What the hell is all the screaming about? Is everyone okay?”

“Angel! It's Spike! He's back!” Dawn watched as Angel's face darkened.

“Spike,” he said, his voice menacing. “What are you doing here?”

“I don't rightly know, now do I?” Matt said, becoming angry with the situation. There was a girl standing in shock by the counter, another girl screaming and hugging him, and now this man trying to make him feel threatened. He had definitely not been expecting this. “And why is everyone calling me Spike? My name’s Matt!”

Suddenly, a vamped out Angel was on him, pinning him to the door with an arm across his throat. “You have one second to get out of here, Spike. Otherwise, it's gonna get a little dusty.”

Buffy gasped, forcing herself out of her stupor, running towards the vampires. She grabbed Angel by the back of his shirt, before pulling him off Spike. She kicked him in the chest, sending him through the air, only for him to crash into the floor and slide into the base of the counter.

“Stay. Away. From. Him.” She ground out, before wrapping her hand around Spike's wrist, all but pulling him out of the hotel.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Buffy continued to pull him down the road, thinking of where she could take Spike to talk to him and keep him away from Angel. Thoughts of Dawn crossed her mind for a second, but she knew her sister would be okay. No matter how pissed off Angel was, he wouldn't harm Dawn. Right now, her priorities were with Spike.

“Do you have a place we can go to talk?” Buffy asked, never losing contact with him.

“Why should I tell you?” Matt asked, pulling his wrist out of her grasp. He was still overwhelmed and angry about what had just happened.

Buffy stopped and turned towards him, hurt shining in her eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, sorry for not trusting you. I mean I was just attacked by someone you're associated with. That doesn't exactly make me want to invite you into my house.”

“Okay, you don't trust the person who attacked you. I saved you from him, so I feel that should earn me some trust.”

“Hey! You didn't save anyone! I had the situation under control. I would have dusted the bloody poofter faster than you can flip your hair, Goldilocks.”

Buffy scoffed, trying to ignore the flutter in her belly when he said one of her old nicknames. “Yeah, you sure looked like you were in control. Just tell me where you live, before Angel comes looking for us. I want to know why you don't remember anything.”

“Why was he like that anyway? I didn't do anything wrong.” Matt grumbled, walking past Buffy. “Follow me.”

“He wants you dead, Spike,” she replied, trailing behind him. She wanted nothing more than to reach her hand out and entwine her fingers with his, but she knew he wouldn't be too accepting of that gesture. He didn't know who she was. How was she going to fix this? She didn't know how or why Spike had lost his memories, and it pained her to know he didn't remember her. Everything that they had been through, the good and the bad, had never happened, as far as he was concerned. She didn't know what to do.

“Why? I don't even know the bloody wanker.”

“Some prophecy. He wants to keep us away from each other,” she told him, wrapping her arms around her suddenly cold body.

They walked in silence for a bit, neither knowing what to say. Matt had questions. Lots of questions. How did they know who he was? Were they from his past? Why were they calling him Spike, like that voice in his dreams always did? Why did he feel like he could trust this woman, despite what had happened? And what was this prophecy business all about? He wanted to ask her a thousand questions, but didn't know where to start.

He looked back at her, noticing her shivering and rubbing her arms with her hands, trying to keep warm in the cold night air. “Here,” he said, shrugging out of his duster. “You're cold.”

Buffy looked at the duster, then back up to his eyes. She smiled softly and took the jacket, slipping it on. “Thanks, Spike.” She took a deep breath through her nose, taking in the smell of the leather. 'God, I missed him.'

He stopped walking and spun around to face her. “Why do you keep calling me that? Do you really know me, from before? Was that my name?”

“Yes, your name was and still is Spike. Well, it's actually William, but you always prefered Spike.”

“So, how do you know me, then? Were we lovers?” he asked, arching his eyebrows and tucking his tongue behind his teeth. He had to admit, this woman was bloody gorgeous.

“You could say that, I guess. Are we almost at your place?” she said, trying to change the subject until they were behind closed doors. She didn't want to keep anything secret, she just felt that the conversation concerning their personal past required more privacy.

“Yeah, just around the corner,” he told her, picking up his pace to get there quicker. “When we get there, I'm going to ask you some questions, and I expect an answer for all of them, all right?”

“Yeah, I'll tell you everything you want to know.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Why did you do that?” Dawn asked, watching the disgruntled vampire push himself off the floor.

“It's none of your business, Dawn.” he growled, going to the weapons closet. He needed to take care of this. Now.

“Excuse me? That was Spike. And you just went all grrrrr on him for no reason. He came to us for help, even though he doesn't know who we are. You had no right to just--”

“Go do your homework, or something. I'm not in the mood for this.” Angel said, putting his crossbow down for a second to slip on his jacket.

“You're an ass, Angel. The second Buffy decides she doesn't want to wallow in despair because you left her, you go crazy. It’s like—you can't have her, but you want to control her. You just can't let her be happy, can you?” Dawn said as she picked up the papers off the floor. “I hope Spike kills you. Or maybe Buffy. That would be so much better.”

Angel watched in shock as she walked up the stairs. She had never said anything like that to him before. He’d always known that Dawn had a chip on her shoulder when it came to him, but he didn't realize just how much she hated him. He knew he couldn't change that.

What he could change, though, was whether or not Spike lived to see the next day.

He left the Hyperion, taking a deep breath and shaking his shoulders. Extending his vampire senses, he started to look for Spike and Buffy.

TBC

Matt closed the door behind Buffy, watching as she shrugged off his duster and draped it over the chair in front of his dresser.

She stood in front of him, her hands clasped to her front as she endured his scrutiny. He looked her over from head to toe, trying to get something from her. A memory, perhaps? He didn't know. He just looked, from the top of her head down to her toes and back up. Nothing.

He saw her cheeks stain a deep red, and he knew it was because of him. “So,” he said, breaking the silence. “How do I know that you're telling the truth... I'm sorry, I can't seem to remember your name?” He smirked.

She rolled her eyes. Same old Spike sarcasm. “My name is Buffy. And you can't know for sure if I'm telling you the truth. You'll just have to trust me. I'll answer any questions you have, and then you can decide if you want to believe me or not.”

He pursed his lips, nodding once before walking over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. He motioned towards his chair, silently telling her to take a seat. He knew this conversation would take a while, so she might as well get comfortable. “Right. First, I want to know when I became a vampire.”

“1880.”

He looked at her in disbelief. He knew was a sodding vampire, but he couldn't believe he was that old. His memory only went back a couple of months, and to find out that he had actually been alive for a hundred plus years was a tad disconcerting. “Seriously? 1880?”

“Yep. You were turned in an alley in England. Your sire is called Drusilla.” She ground this last part out, the name like a sour lemon wedge on her lips. Buffy knew she should have told him more about Dru, because she had been a big part of his life, but she felt like leaving that part out, unless he asked.

“Okay... When did I get my soul?”

“You know you have a soul?” Buffy asked, shocked.

“Yeah, the huge wave of guilt that hit me after I fed for the first time kind of tipped me off.”

“Oh, right.” She looked down at her lap, looking at her fingernails as disappointment filled her. She knew she couldn't blame him, he didn't know, but it still hurt her that Spike had killed someone. She pushed that to the side, knowing she couldn't change the past, what's done was done. “You got it about a year and a half ago.”

“How?”

She smiled shyly. “Do you want the long version, or the short?”

“Why not, might as well tell me the long version. I got nothin' but time.” He shrugged.

“Well... let’s just say you and I... You got your soul for me.”

“You call that a long story?”

“No.”

“Fill in the blanks, then.”

So she did. She didn't know where to start at first, but decided to begin with the day she first met him, wanting to fill him in on everything that she knew. She saw a flicker of guilt pass through his eyes every time she mentioned something particularly bad, but he covered it quickly, his face going back to emotionless as fast as the guilt had come. When she was done, he just sat there, staring at her.

Finally, he ran a hand through his sandy brown curls, letting out a deep breath. “Do I even want to know what I did before I got my soul? Before I met you?”

Scrunching her face up, she shook her head. “It's not the greatest story for the soul, but I'll tell you what I know.”

“No,” he said sternly, standing up to pace the floor in front of her. He had so many more questions, but from what he had already heard, he was afraid to find out more. He was sad, guilty, scared and incredibly pissed off. He didn't know what to say or think. He didn't know how to deal. “I don't want to know. I didn't want to know half the stuff you told me.”

“Spike, just calm down. That part of your life is over now. You don't have to feel guilty for it anymore. I certainly don't condone your actions back then, but you've paid for it now. You wouldn't be standing here if you thadn’t. You willingly saved the world a whole bunch of times without your soul, Spike. And--”

“Don't,” he barked, stopping his pacing to face her. “Don't call me that name. I'm not him. I'm not Spike. I'm Matt,” he whispered, shaking his head and backing away from her. “I'm Matt.”

“Please, Spi... Matt, it's okay. Calm down,” she said, taking a step towards him as he kept walking backwards until his back hit the wall. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you all this stuff so soon. I'm so, so sorry.”

“Go,” he said, simple and stern. He craved the comfort he knew she could give him, but he didn't want her to see him like this. He felt so down and out. The last thing he wanted was for her to see his weakness.

“Please, don't make me leave. I've been waiting for this moment for so long. I'll call you Matt; I'll do anything, just please...”

Looking at her, he saw the sincerity in her eyes. It was that moment, that second of knowing. This was the girl from his dreams. The lamp on the bedside table beside him was glowing brightly, glinting off her hair and making her eyes shine. Gold and green. 'I'm what you seek. I'm who you need to find out your past. Search for me, Spike. Look for the woman who holds your heart.'

“You're her,” he said, his hand reaching out to touch her hair. A simple, subconscious movement, one that he didn't know if he would regret or not.

Before he could feel the silky strands tangle around his fingers, he pulled his hand back as if she was sunlight. He knew. He could trust her and he knew that she was indeed what he had been searching for. The light in his otherwise dark and empty existence. He just didn't know what to make of it. Instead of feeling elated that he was finally on the right path, he only felt more confusion, more sadness and guilt. He couldn't be around her, knowing that he had lost something monumental. Their past had gone the way of his memories, and there was no chance of getting that back.

“Leave. Now. I know where you live, I'll visit when I'm ready. Just... go.”

He watched as her eyes filled with tears. Tears of despair? Hope? Love? He didn't know. He didn't think he wanted to know. All he knew was that he wanted to be alone, to digest everything he'd just found out.

“Okay,” she whispered as she got up to go, feeling the hopelessness and loneliness renew itself, crashing over her like a tidal wave. She knew he would come around, he just needed time. “I'll wait for you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Angel stood outside the motel door, knowing he had found them. Their scent was so strong, it was almost over powering. He hated the fact that Buffy had chosen Spike over him, of all people, and he knew it had to end. He gripped his stake harder, feeling his nails bite into his palms. He had to end this. For Buffy's sake and for the sake of the world.

He swiftly kicked the door down, watching as splinters of wood flew around him.

TBC

He had to end this. For Buffy's sake and for the sake of the world.

Swiftly kicking the door down, he watched as splinters of wood flew around him.

The door slammed into Buffy's body, pinning her against the wall for a fleeting second before she fell to the floor in an unconscious heap. Angel spared her a glance, but knew she would be all right. Instead, he focused his attention on the slack-jawed Spike.

“Buffy,” Matt murmured, then glared at the intruder. “Look what you did, you pillock! You could have killed her!”

Angel fumbled for a moment, smelling the potent Slayer blood that permeated the air, but shoved his worry for her to the side. He could take care of her when he was finished with Spike. A small part of him wanted to leave Spike—His grandchilde—alone. He wanted to tell the younger vampire to leave and never look back. However, Angel knew that Buffy would find out what he’d done, and try to find him again. Angel couldn't let that happen. It was now or never, and he opted for now.

“I didn't kill her, but I know who I will kill.”

With that said, the battle began. Fists and fangs, just the way Spike liked his fights. However, this wasn't the real Spike. This was a lost man in Spike's packaging. Matt wasn't as skilled, nor was he well trained, but he was still just as cunning and graceful. He fought with his brain and his body, using both in a lethal dance that usually ended with him on the winning side. They both got their shots in, punches, kicks and jabs in well thought out places. No matter how hard Matt tried, Angel soon had the upper hand, using Matt's inexperience to his advantage.

“Don't think for a second that you can beat me, Spike,” Angel said, squeezing the younger vampire's windpipe in a crushing headlock. “You never could.”

Matt smirked. He had found out the hard way that letting pride get in the way of a fight could lead to dire consequences. He knew that you should go into a fight knowing you have nothing to lose, nothing to gain. If you go into it knowing that you'll win, no matter how small the opponent, you let yourself slip. Your moves get a little sloppy, and before you know it, your gloating lands you in a rough place. Angel had done just that, and Matt wasn't going to let his chance slip away.

He gripped Angel's forearm, and with a feral growl, he bent forward, using the momentum to flip Angel over his head. Without missing a beat, he straddled the brunet's chest, delivering powerful blows to the older vampire's body.

Buffy groaned, feeling some blood trickle down her forehead, threatening to slide into her eye. She wiped at it as she watched the scene before her, Spike's fists slamming into different spots on Angel's body at an incredible pace. She grinned, feeling that Angel was getting what he deserved, but when she saw Spike grab Angel's stake off the floor and hold it above her former lover's chest, she knew she had to step in.

“Stop!” she pulled herself up as relief flooded her body. Her sudden outburst had jarred Spike, making him stall his fatal blow.

She limped over to the vampires, but she wasn't fast enough.

Angel bucked his hips, sending Spike flying over him and crashing into the floor. Angel jumped to his feet and picked up a piece of the broken door, wielding it as a stake.

What Angel hadn’t expected was Buffy and her sudden lack of hindrance. Seeing Angel getting ready to stake Spike made her spring into action and tackle him to the ground, pure adrenaline coursing through her body so she felt no pain. Quickly, she pulled a stake from her boot and plunged it into his chest.

Angel's eyes flew open in shock and pain. He never thought that Buffy, his Buffy, would ever stake him... Okay, there was that one time with a sword, but that was different. There were circumstances then. Now, there were none. He was trying to protect her from Spike, and this was how she repaid him?

"I think you missed, pet,” Matt snorted, wiping his bleeding nose with the back of his hand. “Aren't Slayers supposed to have better aim than that?”

“Shut up, Spike, or you're next,” she said, feeling nothing but anger for both of the vampires.

Buffy got onto her feet, holding her sore belly where the door knob had rammed into her. She knew she would have a bruise there later. She looked down at Angel, disgust shining bright in her eyes. “Don’t you ever go near him with a stake again, you hear me?” she ground out, her voice laced with warning. She bent down and pulled the stake from his chest, ignoring the suctioning noise as it came free. “Or next time, I won't miss.”

“Buffy... I need...” Angel groaned, holding his hand over the open chest wound. “He isn't safe...”

“I know,” she whispered, catching the attention of both vampires. “I heard you talking with Wesley earlier. I know that he ‘brings the threat of the next apocalypse’.” She looked over at Spike, her expression changing from one of disgust to one of affection. “We’ll deal with whatever Wesley finds out. If an apocalypse happens, we'll avert it. Together. But I won't lose him. Not again.”

Angel watched as tears slipped down her cheeks, the pain of her tears—even if not spilled over him—hurting him. “But what about us, Buffy? You're not cookies, yet!”

Matt arched his eyebrow, lost on the little inside... whatever it was. He was obviously not a part of it, so he got up, planning to leave. But then he heard Buffy's admission, and he felt his whole body stiffen.

“My heart is no longer yours, Angel. It hasn't been for a long time. It belongs to him.”

Sure enough, when Matt turned to look at her, she was pointing to him. He smirked at the crestfallen look on Angel's face, but he had no clue how to react. One thing he knew he was good at was pushing people away. “Whoa, there, pet. I don't want anyone's heart to belong to me, let alone a Slayer's.”

Buffy stared at him, unblinking and unmoving. He watched as a tiny tear escaped an eye, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. But he didn't want anyone holding him back. He didn't want anyone around him that he could hurt.

“You don't mean that,” she whispered. “Please, tell me you don't mean that.”

“I stand by what I said before the Enormous Poof showed up, Slayer. I'll visit you when I'm ready.”

And then he left, leaving an inconsolable Slayer in a destroyed motel room with her ex-boyfriend.

TBC

Spike kept walking, he didn’t know what to think, or how to think it. After being told such... horrible things that he’d done is his past, all just within a span of five or six years, it sickened him. He couldn’t imagine himself doing those things. Especially the things that he’d done to Buffy and her family. It made him want to throw up. Since that was impossible for a vampire, he decided to drown himself in liquor, instead.

Quickly finding a liquor store, he bought a bottle of the cheapest bourbon he could find and paid for it. He needed to find a shoddy motel, then drink himself into a stupor. Hopefully that would silence the screams in his head, and the longing for a particular Slayer in his heart.

After renting a room, he sat on the bed and opened the bottle of bourbon, taking a healthy swig before kicking off his boots. Had he really been the one to do all those nasty things to the Slayer? Did he really ruin her parent teacher night with a hoard of vampires, only to be whacked over the head with an axe by her mum? Did he Steal her friends, hold a broken bottle to a red-headed witch’s face and threaten a boy’s life for a soddin’ love spell? Did he actually try to rape his sweet Slayer?

He shook his head, telling himself that she wasn’t his Slayer. She was Spike’s Slayer. A man—no, vampire—who was just a memory to them and a figment of Matt’s imagination. If this Spike character actually did all of those things, he wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to be Spike again. He didn’t want to live with that guilt.

Of course, going on this journey to regain his memories, he knew that he had to of been evil at one point. Vampires didn’t just keep their soul when they’re turned. He’d been all over the half of the world in the past three months, and he’d yet to meet another vampire aside from Angel to have a soul. Matt just wasn’t prepared to have been that evil. And there was even more stories of his past to be told. A whole century’s worth.

Bloody hell.

He took another swig of his bourbon and flopped back on his bed. A bloody century. That was hard to comprehend. He’d been alive for only three months, as far as he knew. But to everyone in that hotel, he’d been around for a hell of a lot longer than three measly months.

He felt like he was back at square one. On this journey, he’d gotten to know himself the best he could. He’d spent a lot of his time in a confined space, travelling to one mystical being to another in a search for his memories, and that gave him a lot of time to think about who he was now. He had a personality, likes and dislikes, huge aversion to sunlight, a set of fangs and a thirst for blood. He had one bad memory, and he’d already put that behind him the best he could.

However, now it felt like anything he found out about himself in the time leading up to this point had been totally eradicated. Now he was finding out who he was before, and losing who he thought he was now.

It was bloody confusing as all hell.

A part of him wanted to say ‘screw it’ and just leave. Go and make himself into who he wanted to be, not who he used to be. There was a reason that he was put in that alleyway in England, with no memory or anything to tell him who he used to be. Maybe he was given a clean slate to right the wrongs he’d done in his past. Or maybe he’d done this to himself, because of the soul and the guilt he felt because of his prior actions. It would be a waste of his own time to try and get the memories back, if he was the one to make himself lose them, wouldn’t it?

Maybe the Powers That Be chose him to be some... Almighty Hero of Light, a chosen one to smite down the evil, whilst dwelling within the darkness with the said evil. An ear to the ground; an insider with the information and strength to stop whatever was to pop up next.

Something told him he was grasping at straws now.

Although he had an urge to just leave and never return to L.A, he knew Buffy wouldn’t let that happen. She was so insistent on inserting herself into his life that he was pretty sure she would just follow him wherever he went. Best he just stay here and save himself and the chit the trouble.

Besides, now that he got a glimpse of her, a chance to be near such light and beauty, he was certain he wouldn’t let himself get too far away before wanting to be near her once more.

Reaching in his duster pocket, he pulled out the gaudy necklace and fisted the chain, letting the hunk of diamond—or whatever that big and badly cut gem was—dangle in front of his face. “This is your entire fault, isn’t it? Buffy said I was wearing you when I disappeared.”

The light hanging from the ceiling was reflecting off the gem, sending shiny beams of light all over his chest. He took a closer look at it, seeing the rest of the room behind it all blurry and upside down. He had no clue why he felt connected to this thing, or why it intrigued him so much.

Growing frustrated with his thoughts on his past and this stupid necklace, he threw it across the room with a growl and ran his hands through his already dishevelled hair. “Bloody hell, I can’t take it anymore! Just give me a sign! You put me in this soddin’ mess, why can’t you just give me a little push in the right bloody direction, for once!”

He didn’t know who he was hollering at, or if anyone was even listening, he was just at his wits end. How much longer did he have to travel to find himself? How many people was he supposed to meet before his murky past was revealed to him? How many more trials? He couldn’t take it much longer, he just wanted it all to be over with.

He stood up and shucked his duster, letting it slip to the ground before falling back onto the bed, landing on his stomach and burying his head in the pillows with a groan.

Relaxing his tired muscles, he left himself slip into the semi-peaceful oblivion of sleep.

TBC