By Heather Martin

*You can lie to others. You can lie to yourself. But you can’t lie to your dreams .*

Spoilers- Grave

Disclaimer- Joss owns all the characters from Buffy TVS

Distribution- Sure, just ask

Summary- Anyone know what dissociative fugue amnesia is? Well, Spike develops such a case after his sudden shiny soul, along with the unexpected return of humanity. He just can’t cope, so he pretends to be somebody he‘s not. As for Buffy, she lies to herself that Spike’s absence hasn’t effected her. But at night, she cannot keep him out of her dreams. What will happen to these two lost souls? Will they ever find their way? And will it be together?

This occurs after Grave. The time between episodes are unclear. Pretend that everything after ‘As You Were ‘only spanned a couple weeks. If you think about it, that makes sense. Seeing Red, Villians, 2 to Go, and Grave all happened in a couple days.

Chapter 10

It didn’t hurt. All Buffy could feel as the electric shock traveled through was warmth. She couldn’t command herself to move, but she was aware that her body jerked. God, she wished it hurt. Pain gave her strength, yet all this appeared to be doing was draining her dry.

Then it all stopped. She lay there, gasping, her mind jumbled. After what seemed like an hour, but had only been over a minute, she craned her neck. Spike was busy fighting the reaper. He spun and kicked, threw punches and dodged lightning. He was beautiful when he danced. She had never witnessed him from afar before, usually having to be his partner.

Things were in Spike’s favor until the cloaked reaper knocked him to the right, making him hit his head on the side of a building. The reaper raised both his hands and electricity shot out of the palms. It soaked into Spike. He gritted his teeth at first, but it soon became too much and he howled. Was that how she had looked? Had she cried out as well? He wasn’t in pain, was he? All it had done to her was stun her. It sure looked like it was hurting him. A new determination came over her. Buffy got to her feet. She swayed slightly with dizziness. Finally she regained her balance and entered the incident.

She came up behind the reaper creature. He didn’t notice her at all, continuing to zap Spike. The bleached-blond had stopped yelling and was surrendering to the power now. Seeing him so weak and vulnerable broke Buffy’s heart. He had always been strong and in control.

Buffy kicked the reaper in the side. He didn’t fall, but stumbled. The lighting seized. He turned around to face her. His fathomless face with glowing eyes chilled her to the bone.

“Slayer,” he hissed.

A grin spread across her mouth. “That’s me. Lesson for today, when I get knocked down, I always get back up. Kinda like a weeble.” She paused. “Wait, no, they only wobble. Bad example.”

The reaper glanced at Spike, then at Buffy. “I will return. For BOTH of you.” Before either blond could blink he was gone.

The slayer stood there for a moment, her eyes planted where the reaper had once been. She took in a long breath. She stepped toward the man on the ground.

“Spike?” she squeaked.

He made no attempt to get up. She knelt down beside him. “Spike?” she reiterated, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

His wondrous blue eyes snapped to meet hers. “You,” he stated.

A small smile came to her lips. “Me.”

Spike sat up slightly. “I’ve seen you in my dreams.”

“I’ve seen you too.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were real,” he told her.

For awhile after she first came back she hadn’t felt real. Actually, it was hard to feel at all. The hallucination by the nerd gang seemed more solid than her actual world. But now she knew that she belonged here. She was alive, and had created it as well. And Spike. . . he was real and here too.

Buffy took him in. He wore a blue sweater and khaki pants. He still wore black Doc Martin’s, but they were new. His hair was free of gel and curled, falling into his eyes. The most striking thing she noticed about him was his skin. Instead of its usual pale complexion, it was darkened by a slight tan.

Her head shot upward. The sky was cloudy, yet not a dark gray, more a dirty white. Dreary, but still light enough to prevent vampires from venturing outdoors. Buffy’s lips parted. She took a hand and pressed it on his chest. Even though he wore a thick sweater she could make it out. The thump thumping of his heart.

The fact that water accumulated in her vision went unnoticed. “Spike, you’re alive.”

He sat up all the way. “Well . . . yeah.”

She removed her hand. “How?”

“Wha . . .?”

“You breathing, out in the day.”

He shook his head. “Isn’t that what everybody does? Ya know, breath, go out in the day?”

“Not vampires.”

Spike broke out in an explosion of laughter. Buffy stood up, irritated. She put her hands on her hips. “What is so amusing?”

He fought to control his laughter. “You’re off your rocker if you believe in that rot.”

“Oh, right, this coming from the ex-master vamp that tried to kill me.”

Snorting, he replied,” Me, a vampire? No, I don’t think so.”

Buffy’s expression changed to concern. “Please tell me you’re joking. Ya know, ha ha, and not another memory altering spell.”

He raised his scared eyebrow. “Spell? Well, I haven’t seen any women with tall black hats as of late.” He got to his feet. He made eye contact with Buffy. “Truth is I don’t know what happened ta me. Very well could be some mojo workin on my noggin. All I know is I woke up outside this spooky cave in the middle of nowhere. Dragged myself through the dessert to find a village. Have no clue how I ended up in bloody good Africa.” He gestured toward Buffy. “Or how you come in. But you must play some important role in my soddin existence cuz I can’t get you outta my head.” He smirked. “Is it just because you get me hard or is there something else going on between us?”

She sighed. “God, Spike, even human and not knowing me you can be a pig.”

“That’s another thing, what’s with the Spike bit? M’ William Shayne.” He dug into his pocket, drudging up his wallet. He pulled out his driver’s license, and handed it to her.

Buffy took the card and examined it. Where had he gotten it? Had to be a fake. Birthdate, 1974. She raised her eyes. “You honestly don’t remember me? Not at all?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, pet. Can’t recall a bloody thing before two months ago.”

Buffy blinked. Why did she have the sudden impulse to cry? This was as bad as not finding him at all. He didn’t remember her. Which meant he didn’t love her. Her hand roamed to her middle. This baby wouldn’t mean anything to him. It wouldn’t even be his to him.

“I gotta get to work,” she heard him say.

“Work? You can’t go to work,” she protested.

“Yes, I can, and I will.”

She snatched his arm. “We have to get to Giles. He can figure this out. He can make this right. Then we’ll go back to Sunnydale and . . .”

Tugging his arm away, he snapped, “Look here, woman, I don’t have to go anywhere with you. I’m happy here. I’ve got a nice flat and a decent job. I don’t need you dragging me back to Sunnyhell.”

Sunnyhell. A tiny bit of hope sparked inside her chest. Somewhere deep inside him still housed ‘her’ Spike. All she had to do was unbury him.

Spike took a few steps away. “I’m late. I just got this job and don’t want to lose it just because I ran into you.”

“What about the reaper guy? He could come back again. I don’t think you’re up to confronting him alone,” she pointed out.

“Look, I don’t know what that was about but . . . I doubt he’ll attack while I’m serving drinks.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. Buffy stormed up to him. She drew back a fist and then let it fly. Her knuckles made contact with his face. His head snapped to the side and he stumbled backwards.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. His hand went to his nose. Then he withdrew his fingers, seeing that they had touched blood. “You made my nose bleed, you bint!”

Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have done that. He was no longer a vampire with super healing powers or strength. No more beating up on him when he pushed her buttons. She added that to her list of slayer rules.

“Sorry, but you gotta learn to not piss off a slayer,” she told him.

He gave her an unconvinced look. “Slayer?”

She frowned. This certainly wasn’t Spike. This was some William Shayne he had created, totally oblivious to anything supernatural.

“Sp- William, I can’t let you go. I . . . I’ve come looking for you all the way from California. I got on a plane for you. I just spent hours on a computer trying to find out where you were. Now I’ll be dammed if I let you walk away!”

Spike stared at her for a long time. He sighed. “Meet me after work. The pub two blocks from here. Six o’clock.”

She nodded. “I’ll be there. On the dot.”

She watched him walk off, feeling as if she were losing something. Something she never really had in the first place.

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