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*Chapter Repost*
Spike strode into the Jennings Street dojo that had become the makeshift research station for the "Scoobies" of late. He was starting to feel like his old self again. Buffy had been right, being back in the world-saving business was just what the doctor ordered.

And the possibility that throttling Angelus might actually help to save the world? Well, that was an unexpected bonus.

"Well Watcher, what have you got for us?"

"Us?" Giles asked.

"Yeah," Buffy said, as she came in behind Spike, "with a name like Dustin," she shrugged, "I figured this was a we thing and not just a he thing."

"Oh," he nodded, "Quite right," he noticed Buffy's slight limp, "Demon fighting, I presume?"

She shook her head, " Nope, just good old- fashioned gravity."

"Well, that does happen to the best of us." Giles said.

Buffy leaned into Spike's side, lovingly patting him on the shoulder, "That's what I've been trying to tell this guy."

Giles's face changed as if a cloud had passed over it. He picked up the plastic bag that held Jonina Dustin's belongings and felt the weight of it. These meager belongings weighed more than they should have. Perhaps that was because her life carried within it the life or death of the Slayers.

He turned the bag over in his hands as he approached Spike. Suddenly his head felt heavy on his neck. Spike seemed to notice, "The weight of the world on your shoulders there, Watcher?" he asked gently as he took the bag from him, "Let me take it," Spike shrugged as he saw from Giles's eyes how important this little life was, "It's what I'm good at."

Giles's voice was gruff, "Yes. Well, the two of you may want to go somewhere private to go through the girl's effects," he turned to retrieve the coroner's report from the table behind him. "Along with this," he held up the report, "Those few things are all that remain of Miss Jonina Irene Dustin."

"What happened to the body?" Spike asked.

"Cremated. Her father identified her and had her cremated, almost immediately."

Buffy was confused, "Then shouldn't we be talking to him?" she turned her attention to Spike, "Maybe he's a distant relative of yours?"

Giles burst forth in an awkward fit of laughter, "If I hadn't lived on a Hellmouth, that would almost be funny," at their quizzical looks he added, "The answers are in the girl's effects. And, the reason that report and those personal items are all that's left of that young woman," he said, his gaze and jaw hardening, "Is because of Angelus."
**************

The girl's life was so small that Spike knew he had to protect it. And it wasn't just because of the dreams. He could take the dreams, because they weren't substantial. He could dismiss them. But, he couldn't dismiss this. This was real. So real, it made his knees weak. And what made it real was the ring that he was holding in his hand.

It just seemed so small. It was so small that the edges of his entire world seemed to implode in on themselves, taking him in their wake.
**********************

He looked at Buffy and saw the pain and sadness that he was sure she could see in his eyes, "Buffy, this little girl seems to be very important to us, not just the Slayers, but us."

Before she could respond, Buffy could feel the tears building up behind her eyes as she looked at the Zippo lighter and the wedding band as they were arrayed on the small table in the small locker room in the back of the dojo, "Yep," she said. She took a deep breath, and tried to be strong. He needed her to be strong.

She stared at the small notebook that had her name on it, "Have you looked at her book, yet?"

He shook his head, "No. I'd rather face a herd of fire-breathing dragons, and Mathias Pavaine, in one night."

"Know what you mean," she admitted, "It is kind of creepy. Feels kind of like we're spying. Sort of like 'Back To The Future.' But still, if it's that important, enough that Giles makes that face," she winced as the look on the man's face flashed through her head, "maybe we should. Do you want me to do it?"

Spike held the volume in his hand and gently turned it over. He'd faced the fires of Hell, looked into the face of death and spit in its eye, won and lost his soul and went a few rounds with a Hellgod, and he was still standing. So why did something so small make his hands shake so badly?

In an effort to hide his trembling hands, he thumbed through the pages, stopping to pull out some loose papers that were pressed in between the pages, "These seem to be addressed to her Mum," he looked at her and tilted his head in sympathy as he handed them to her, "I guess that would be you."

She nodded and bit her lip, taking in a cleansing breath, "Okay. Jumping in, now," she said as the papers passed from his hand to hers, "I'll go first. You want to take the diary, somewhere else?" she asked.

He shook his head, his eyes locked on hers, "No way, Love. I'm not going anywhere," he gave her a knowing smirk, "I'm not leaving, until you toss me out. And, that's final."
******************************

Dear Mommy,

I'm eight now, but you know that. I'm writing this because Daddy says that you miss taking me on bike rides and you want me to tell you everything that I do at school.

I remember, last Trick-Or-Treat Night. I went as a Princess. And you and Daddy went as a vampire and a Slayer. I thought Daddy's scrunchy face was very funny. I kind of like it when he does that. I think you do too, because you got that special look on your face, the one you don't think I see. The one you only get when I'm in bed. But, I'm not in bed. Sometimes I sneak out. I'm really quiet so you don't see me.

I got so much candy. Daddy said I'd get a tummy ache. I did. Do you remember that? Daddy says you get sad now, because sometimes you forget things.

Don't worry Mommy. I'll tell you things if you forget them. I can do that. I'm a big girl. You know that. I love you, Mommy. I hope you never go away. I love you a lot. And Daddy does too. I hope you don't forget that, but if you do, I can tell you again. That's okay. Mommy, I love you. Remember, okay?

Love,

Joni


The little girl scribble brought a tear to Buffy's eye. She didn't think she could do this, not alone. But she wasn't alone. Spike was with her, "Oh God, Spike," she whimpered, "I don't think I can do this."

"You can, Love," he said as he gently kissed her tears away, as they drifted down her cheeks, "You can. You're strong. You're the Slayer."

Buffy looked at the aged bits of paper that sat on her lap. Some of them were covered in a rainbow of crayon markings and whimsical drawings. They looked like homemade greeting cards. Cards made with love, by little hands. Hands that she might never get a chance to know, because of Angel.

Buffy opened one of the cards. But it wasn't a card. It was a drawing. The drawing was of a blonde stick figure, obviously meant to be her, wearing big, fluffy angel wings on her back. At the bottom of the paper was the line, "I Miss You Mommy."

"Spike," Buffy turned the drawing so that he could see it, "look at this."

His jaw twitched and his eyes widened as he looked at the scene on the paper. It depicted a moment in time that only someone who'd actually known them, could possibly put pen to paper and draw. It must have been a Slayer dream. Poor little thing, to be saddled with that, at so tender an age, it was a hard thing for him to go through and he could only imagine what it must have been like for her to see her Mummy, die.

On the page was a crayon-colored nightmare. Buffy, lying on the rubble of a construction site, while a stick drawing with a black body and a shock of yellow on his head, was in the corner crying blue teardrops. Above that was a figure with white angel wings, racing to heaven.

"I think it's my turn now, Love," he said as he opened the journal.
****************

The diary spanned from the year 2022 to 2029. Just seven years, but seven years was a long time for someone so young. It was long enough for him to fall out of love with Dru, and in love with Buffy. Worlds were won and lost in less time. This was obviously a time of great turmoil in this young person's life. The pages fairly screamed it out to him.

July 8th 2022

My Aunt Willow gave me this diary because she thought I would be needing to talk to someone. My Mommy is really sick now, and all my Daddy does is cry. I know that all the Slayers are getting sick, but I thought my Mommy wouldn't. I don't know why she's sick, but I think it's my fault.

Daddy says it's not. But then, he gets this funny look on his face, and he hugs me so tight I can't talk. He says he loves me, but he's so sad.

Still, he gives us our medicine every day, Mommy and me. I don't know why he gives it to me. It hurts when the needle pokes me, but I don't cry. I'm a big girl.

Mommy can have my medicine, too. I know if Mommy has enough, she won't be sick anymore. That's what Daddy says, so Mommy can have mine.

I told my Daddy that today. He started crying again and hugged me, too tight. I know I make him sad, but I don't know why.

It was obvious that some sort of illness had struck the Slayers. Poor little sprite, no child should have the world on their shoulders when they should be mucking about in their Mummy's makeup and playing with tiny teacups.

But, the entry that really gave him pause was one of the last ones. It told of a daughter's discovery of a secret that spurred her to hurtle herself into his life.

February 26th 2028

I found your research today, Daddy. I wish you would have told me. But, I guess you didn't want to hurt me anymore. It's too late for that now. I understand why I'm the last Slayer now. And, I know why you got sick. God Daddy, why didn't you tell me?

I lost Mom, and you told me it wasn't my fault, but it was. I understand why you lied. But that doesn't bring you back, or Mommy. And you're who I need now. I wish I was still a little girl, and you were here to hold me and kiss and hug me, and put me to bed at night. But you're not, neither of you.

Maybe Angelus should have killed me. Maybe then you'd still be here, singing like you used to.

I loved watching you and Mommy dance. It was like magic. I miss you both so much.

I'll have you back, I promise.
**********************

Spike placed the precious things back into the plastic bag, and tucked it into his pocket. He left the small locker room in a state of shock. He had to know if Angelus had access to this journal, his daughter's life. He had to know if he had taken it upon himself to make a grief-stricken wish come true.

He'd read, with horror, the details that surrounded his own deathbed. His only hope was that Angelus didn't have the patience to read, and comb through, every single detail of her life. He hoped that he hadn't read every tear-stained word, and didn't know his daughter's every joy and sorrow. Because if he did, it might come down to a battle between them, for the life of a true innocent.

Spike was glad that Buffy wasn't the one who read all the gory details. He didn't know if she could handle it. Honestly, he didn't know if he could. But, he had to.

The look in Buffy's eyes told Spike that she was asking the same question.

He walked slowly up to the Watcher and asked the question they both needed the answer to, "Rupert," he rasped out, "tell me Angelus did not find that journal."

"I wish I could. He's the one that pointed it out to me."
*******************

APRIL, 20 2005- SOMEWHERE IN LOS ANGELES

Talitha Sands opened the door. She and David had been inundated with flowers and congratulations lately, because they were expecting. The baby was due to arrive some time early next year.

The house was so full of flowers now, that she didn't know if there was enough room for more.

When the doorbell rang, she went to the door and signed for the flowers that the deliveryman was holding, "Thank you," she said, taking the box and closing the door.

Everyone was being so nice, she thought as she looked around for a space that wasn't crowded with blooms. That was going to be hard to find, the house was starting to look like a botanical garden.

She opened the box and saw what was inside. She dropped the box, and the blooms it held inside it, and screamed for her husband.

David Sands rushed to his wife's side and saw the black roses lying on the floor.
*****************





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