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there'll be the 113 Times ficlets and hopefully more new fics as soon as I"m physically capable of getting some decent writing done--sorry it hasn't happened yet
Chapter Five


Buffy wished whatever was wrong with her was a result of that curse; at least then she’d know why it was happening.

Patrol the night before had worn her out so much that she’d barely been able to walk up the stairs to her bedroom when she got home. Even then she’d fallen asleep in her jeans and blouse and not woken up for over ten hours—and that as only because the phone rang. Some stupid telemarketer.

Her mother had a doctor’s appointment today with an oncologist. Joyce’s internist had assured them that it was just a precaution to look into all of the headaches and fatigue Joyce had been experiencing, but it still scared Buffy. This was her mother they were talking about. Buffy had hoped to accompany her mother but as the appointment time approached she felt less and less able to make the cross town car trip.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Joyce assured her, “Sylvia can give me a ride.”




Feeling horribly useless, the Slayer rested and watched TV while her mother was gone; hoping that maybe today would be the day she’d get her energy back.

No such luck though as two and a half hours later when Joyce returned, Buffy was in much the same state.

“Would you like to help me make dinner?” it was much too early to begin dinner but Joyce wanted to do something that would give her the opportunity to speak with her eldest daughter.

“That’d be nice,” Buffy said, even though she didn’t feel fully up to it. “What’re we making?”

“How would you feel about some beef stew?” Not only did they have the ingredients but it had to cook long enough that if they made it now it’d be ready just in time for dinner.

“As long as I do the veggies and you do the meat I think it’s a great idea.”

When they’d gotten everything set out—the carrots, potatoes, meat, onions and spices—Buffy looked at the vegetables and the cutting board and hoped she’d be able to do this.

“Well the potato’s go in last so we can wait a while to do those, why don’t you work on the carrots and the onions for now?” Joyce handed her daughter a knife.

“Yeah….okay,” Buffy hated the way her voice was wavering. Thinking as hard as she could about sitting on the beach in a bikini in the summer and watching the waves Buffy brought the knife down on the first carrot—and tried to beat back the impulse to hold her head as the throbbing pain started. ‘Just think about other things,’ she ordered herself, ‘Other things.’

Two and a half carrots later when Buffy’s ears were ringing and she was fairly certain she was going to pass out, her mother stepped over to stop her now wavering daughter.

“You go sit down, honey,” Joyce tried to hide the fear in her voice, “and I’ll finish up here.”

Going back into the living room, leaning against the wall the entire time, Buffy wanted to cry—she couldn’t even chop up carrots for dinner—but it hurt so much that even the idea of crying scared her at the moment. Maybe she’d be able to get some sleep, she though as she curled up on the sofa. Yes, sleep would be good.



Joyce looked in on her daughter just under an hour later when she’d finished preparing the stew. She was getting more and more worried about Buffy by the day. At first Rupert and Buffy had been able to convince her that it was some sort of slaying thing but as she watched her daughter quite literally dwindle down to nothing, Joyce knew, Slayer related or not, something was seriously wrong. If only she could find out what.

She’d even talked to the oncologist today about Buffy symptoms but all he’d said was that she was probably just depressed and that was why she was sleeping all the time and not—Joyce thought—ever eating. When she pushed about the headaches though he’d just said that either it was a part of the depression or perhaps she’d developed migraines but until Buffy wanted to get better there wasn’t anything to be done for her; something Joyce refused to believe.

And because she didn’t believe it she’d made a little extra stew for the night. They were going to have a dinner guest.




When he awoke, Spike was surprised to find that his ‘guest’ was none other than Joyce Summers.

“Well, well, didn’t expect the Slayer’s mum. Not after…Right surprise it is.” Spike tried his best to cover himself with the sarcophaguses sheet and comforter. Wouldn’t due to insult Joyce’s delicate sensibilities, now would it?

“We need to talk…”

Spike never told anyone his real name anymore, or at least he didn’t let them use it, but he figured that tying the woman’s daughter up, professing his love, and then threatening to have her killed bought Joyce a little leeway. Besides, she was a nice lady.

“William,” he told her.

Joyce smiled slightly, the name seemed to fit him. “We need to talk, William.”

“Not here to hit me with any more axes are you?” he asked when he noticed her serious tone. After all she had every reason to wish violence upon him at the moment—he was actually surprised it had taken her this long.

“I would have come sooner but Buffy asked me not to.”

‘Ahh,’ Spike thought, ‘so that’s why.’

“What you did to Buffy that night…it was wrong William.” Joyce held up a hand to stop him when he tried to protest. “But I think you know that now. Nevertheless, if you ever try to hurt my baby girl again, I will kill you.” And she would too; somehow she’d find a way, he knew that.

“I wasn’t thinking right, Joyce,” he attempted to explain. “Dru just popped back up and it all go jumbled. I just wanted her t listen and….and I didn’t know of a better way. I didn’t think I’d be able to tell her otherwise and I needed to. ‘Sides, I’d never let Dru hurt her.”

“That’s not what I’m here to speak with you about,” Joyce interrupted his apology. “I want to know what’s wrong with my daughter.”

“Straight to the point, eh? What makes you think I know what’s wrong with Buffy? Haven’t seen the chit in weeks,” he tried to make himself sound believable.

“I know you’re aware of the curse placed on her b a witch.”

Spike knew it was useless to try and argue that fact, “Yeah, heard about it.” He hoped he sounded uninterested. “Don’t see what there is to talk about.”

“You’re going to tell me what the witch did, that’s what there is to talk about,” Joyce explained not entirely kindly.

“Look,” Spike began, “all I know is that she was cursed.” Okay so it was technically a lie but really he wasn’t entirely sure what the witch had said…not exactly at least.

“You can play dumb with the others but I know you were the one that sent the vampire to warn Buffy. That means you know more than any of us. Maybe not by much, but right now I’ll take anything.”

“How do you know I sent him?”

“No one else—outside of her family and friends—would go through so much trouble to protect her.”

“Wasn’t much trouble,” Spike tried to brush it off. “Bloke was easy to order about. Anyway, if anyone’s going to kill her—“

“Don’t try to tell me you want to be the one to kill her; we both know that’s not true. Now,” she turned for the door, “if you meant any of what you told Buffy you’ll join us for dinner tonight and help me figure out what’s wrong with my little girl.”


TBC......please review

sorry for the lack of update Saturday :( Hopefully you can forgive me





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