The two had started, just after nine o’clock, to head off to see Willow and Tara; started to that is because after a few seconds they both came to the same conclusion.
“We need some sort of explanation.”
“What you mean they might kind of wonder at there sort of being two of us?”
“It’s a thought,” there was no way the two of them would be able to spend any amount of time together—they’d kill each other before the week was over.
“We’ll just tell them the truth,” Spike decided.
“That this is all a fictional world?”
“Well, we would; if that were the truth. We’ll tell them you got zapped here somehow from some alternate dimension and we need to send you back before you being here mucks things up. Birds’ll suss it out, ‘m sure.”
“No mentioning TV shows—“
“—or pimp shirts,” Spike smirked.
“—Either.”
“Fine by me. Ready to go?”
*~*~*~*
“H-how did you get here?” Tara had mostly gotten over her stuttering problem but something about seeing Spike and this almost Spike had her a little nervous for some reason. So did the fact that they were currently hiding this from Buffy.
“Are you sure this is something we should keep from Buffy?” Willow was having the same problems as her ex-girlfriend, who she was actually kind of surprised had offered to come help; maybe it was because it was Spike and Tara had seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for him ever since that incident with her family. Whatever the reason it got them back in the same room again.
“If I—if we thought it would be good for Buffy to know about this, don’t you think we’d be meeting at the Slayer’s house? Much easier place to get to after all.”
“But what if it’s a part of some…some evil thing that she needs to know about?” Willow wasn’t giving up yet…and not only to prolong her time with Tara, she wasn’t sure she should be helping Spike keep secrets from Buffy.
“Slayer’s not going to find out ‘less you tell her. And you’re not going to tell her are you?”
“No,” Willow gave in, sounding very much like a little child who’d just been reprimanded.
“Good, now let’s see ‘bout getting the bloke on home.”
“Well, first we’ll need to now where he’s from…and if he possible knows the name of his dimension.”
“I’m from L.A. and unless you’re counting Earth, then nope, I don’t know….ooh, maybe reality?”
“Ignore him,” Spike told the worried looking girls—he’s getting a little sick of a world that has a handsomer version of himself in it. “What I managed to figure out was that he’s from a world that’s pretty much the same as this one except in it there’s no Sunnydale and all the beaties aren’t actually real.”
“So, kind of like a world like everyone thinks this one is—minus Sunnydale and the ugly, demon underbelly?”
“Exactly.”
“We’ll look into it and see what we can find out.”
“Think you could hurry? Don’t like keeping this from the Slayer and a few things from his dimension are starting to bleed over into this one…and since I don’t feel like finding out if the two merge….” he trailed off, the look he gave the girls making his intent clear.
“Should we come by your crypt if we find anything?”
“Good a place as any, I suppose.”
“I guess we’ll be off then,” James said, “Thank you ladies.”
“Of course—I just hope we can find a way to get you home soon,” Willow sympathized.
“Me too, Al—Willow, me too.”
*~*~*~*
“Going to tell me why it is you’re so gung ho on getting back home?”
“Can’t a guy just want to get back to his own damn world? Literally?”
“Sure, but you seem mighty pressed for time…day or two couldn’t hurt much could it?”
“Not unless my son needs an adult in the house, no,” James snapped.
”You’ve got a kid?”
“Yeah,” was the only answer but Spike could tell it was from not wanting to get upset rather than from lack of caring.
“Always wanted to have a son….then with Buffy I thought it might be nice—“
“Nice to what?” He wasn’t sure how, but some how James didn’t know what Spike was about to say.
“Thought it’d be nice to have a daughter with her. Little girl to look just like her,” for a second Spike got a far away look in his eyes before realizing what he was doing. “But that’s stupid…besides it not even being physically possible, there’s no way the Slayer’d ever wanna have my brat.”
“Spike, could I tell you a few things? I know telling you things could change the course of events and all that…but maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”
“Why? Is what’s going to happen bad?”
“Depends on who you ask I guess,” he answered cryptically.
“Is it bad for Buffy? Or the bit?” Spike asked what was of the utmost concern to him.
“Some of it is, yeah.”
“Then you’d best tell me those parts. Need to protect m’ girls as best I can. Not going to fail her again.”
At some point during the conversation James had stopped seeing Spike as a fictionalized character portrayed by himself and started to see him as an individual—an individual he wanted to help.
“Buffy’s going to end things between you two,” he began, “Soon.”
“Guessed as much.”
“But…you need to let her. Just…just don’t give up on her when it happens, okay? Because…well you, in the version of things I know, you get desperate and….and just don’t do anything to hurt her, okay?” He looked so serious that Spike wracked his mind for what the other man could possibly be implying.
“I wouldn’t’ ever hurt her…What are…What?”
‘Yeah, but those damned scriptwriters thought it was a nifty plan!’ How was he supposed to explain to the vampire why he was going to do something that from the day he’d read the script for the first time until that very day he was still trying to understand. “Remember that you can love her without your soul. But…if it’s what she needs, if it’s necessary—don’t let your hatred of Angel stand in your way.”
“Could you be any more cryptic?”
“Probably, but let’s not try,” James joked. “Just remember that you love Buffy and that you’re a good man—don’t ever forget those two things.”
“I can probably remember two things.”
“I hope so,” was the muttered response. “And, uh, find that Warren bloke and kill him or something—just, uh, give Willow this not here and she’ll make it okay with Buffy.” He took the piece of paper that he’d written on earlier and folded it up before setting it on the table. “Figured it’d be best to spread the knowledge around.”
“I’ll make sure Red gets it.”
*~*~*~*
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