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Chapter 45

Willow had called him earlier that morning to ask if he had heard anything yet; if there was any progress. He informed her that he had in fact been able to reach someone by phone the night before and everything was now underway—planned to happen as soon as was possible.

Pouring himself a third glass of scotch, Rupert Giles sat on his sofa and waited anxiously for his guest to arrive. Even as little as a few months prior, he would have sworn that he would never, under any circumstances, be anticipating their arrival—at his home—with such…optimism.

This was their last hope; but it was going to work.




Dawn was off to school; Buffy was asleep; Joyce was…well how she was; all Spike needed to do now was figure out what his next move was. How did he go about saving the girl while still being there all of the time? He couldn’t leave Buffy and Dawn—he’d promised as much more than once—but he also was starting to see that the answers might not lie in Sunnydale.

For all he knew, Buffy’s cure was to be found in sap of some tree in Maine or England…or Russia; it could be absolutely anywhere. Anywhere in the world and for the foreseeable future he had to stay in Sunnydale.

Somehow, he had to get someone to do some of the footwork for him.

Now, if he could only think of someone who would be wiling to do it for him.




Spike had confided in her the night before that he was still looking for a cure for her—or a treatment at the very least—but he had yet to find anything. Of course, he’d only admitted so after quite a bit of coaxing, pleading, and pouting. Buffy could see just how bothered he was by his inability to ‘fix’ her; and in a way, it endeared him to her.

She wanted to tell him not to worry, not to be so stressed about it all, but she couldn’t make herself say it. She couldn’t say it because of just how much she didn’t believe it…she wanted someone worried; she needed someone to be stressing out about the situation. She just wished that someone didn’t have to be Spike.

Then again, who exactly would it be if not for Spike? The only ones she had left in her corner were Dawn and Spike—her mother would be if only she were awake and not in that damned coma; and Anya might have been, but Buffy wasn’t sure. So, it was really between Spike and her sister…

While she didn’t want Spike to be going through it, she wanted even less for Dawn to have to go through it. Her sister was already going through enough without adding ‘saving Buffy’ to the list.

Hopefully Spike would come through for her…for them.





Joyce wondered just how long she had been gone. How long she’d been in this dream like state. For quite a while she had thought it was all just a very elaborate dream—after all time did have a habit of moving especially fast in one’s dreams. Now, though, she was almost definite that this was more than just a simple dream.

“I must leave you now, darling. But you are in good hands and some day I will see you again,” the voice of her mother—her long dead mother—broke Joyce out of her thoughts.

“But where—there’s no one here.” She hadn’t expected their journey to be over already; she had expected that when it was, they would be in the presence of…well something.

Right now there was nothing but white around them.

“They’ll be here soon, Joyce. They’re not for me to see, though. This is for you and so I must go. I love you darling—always remember that. Give my love to your girls as well,” with a quick kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Joyce’s mother was gone. Just like that.

Before she had the time to think about her mother’s departure, another figure was suddenly standing in front of her. Apparently, the whole ‘suddenly’ thing was a big deal up here—wherever here was exactly.

“I hope the visit with your mother was enjoyable.” The woman looked just how Joyce would have imagined, had she in fact taken the time to imagine her; with brilliant blue eyes, honey blonde hair, a flowing white dress, lightly tanned skin, and a trim figure, she looked every bit the angel Joyce was starting to think she was.

“More than a little bit unexpected, but yes, it was incredibly enjoyable. I have missed her very much these past few years. I can’t help but wonder why though.”

“Why your mother was sent as your guide?”

“Well…yes,” she answered simply, hoping she wasn’t about to be told that it hadn’t truly been her mother merely something under the guise of her mother.

“We felt that taking you away from your daughters at a time like this deserved an…we thought we ought to do something in reciprocation. Understand that we would have waited until your daughter was well again but such time could not…This had to be done now.”

“Do you...do you know that Buffy’s going to get well again?”

“That is not something under our control. We are rarely allowed to intervene and even less so when magic is—“ the woman cut herself off, looking as if she’d let something slip.

“When magic is what?” Joyce prodded, looking for any information that would help get Buffy well again.

“We are very, very rarely allowed to interfere when magic or anything mystic is involved. The Slayer is a mystical creature by the nature of her being and as such, magical occurrences are a part of her life and not up to us to fix.”

“Not up to you to fix?! You obviously know that Buffy is the Slayer—I think you are a part of all of that…How can it not be up to you to fix it? If it weren’t for you she’d be just a regular girl! That this is even happening to her is all your doing.”

“I am simply a messenger sent her to tell you what is happening and what is not going to happen; it does not matter if I agree with our policies or not. I am not the one who decides the rules, I simply inform others of them.”

“Well, if you just brought me here to tell me you can’t heal Buffy, may I go now? I’ve gotten the message so I don’t see what else—“

“That was not the message,” the blonde haired woman informed her gently. “That was merely a side note, something to help you understand just why I pushed so hard for this to be allowed. We were unable to provide help for the Slayer, so we are going to do what we feel is the next best thing.”

“The next best thing?”

“You have been mother to both the Slayer and the Key for a great number of years now. You, just a human, have taken precious care of two of our most important beings. We—I in particular—felt that it was more than time that we repaid you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

“In return for all the care and love you have given the Slayer and the Key—your daughters, we are going to care for you. A repayment of sorts, really. We are going to heal you, Joyce.”




The sun had finally set, the orange finally fading into a deep purple. It never got any darker than that, not in the city. It wasn’t like when you got out from the bright lights and could finally see what a true night sky looked like—black as ebony and littered with thousands upon thousands of tiny stars as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful when you took the time to look at it.

Sadly, he hadn’t taken that time in many, many years. He wondered how many of life’s little joys he let slip through his fingers.

He knew of one thing he had let slip through his fingers. One someone to be more precise.

It was time to finally get a grip on things.

With one last look at the brightly lit sky outside his hotel, Angel got into his car and started the drive towards Sunnydale.



TBC……





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