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She blinked.

It couldn’t be and if it was, Buffy couldn’t believe her life.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” she huffed, as he looked to her in confusion.

“You couldn’t come up with something more original, like a demon came and split me in two, or I’m a doppelganger from another dimension. You are really looking to get staked tonight, aren’t you?” She jested in disbelief. She had heard everything in her small lifetime, but this story topped the cake. It was dumbest thing she had ever heard Spike say -- even if it wasn’t necessarily Spike.

She should be storming off, moreover, she should be staking Spike. She didn’t know why in her right mind she was giving him the time of day, but for some reason this whole freak show had become interesting. With nothing more to do that night (and a question of her own to ask as well), she slowly took a seat on the headstone across from his.

Finally she said what she thought he had been waiting to hear.

“Fine. Prove it,” she told him.

--

Prove it.

It wasn’t actually what he expected to hear, but obviously something he should have been prepared for. With a sigh, he began to look around trying to figure out where and when he was. A cemetery, at night, during a fog. That’s about all he could gather. Sufficed to say, that was definitely not enough to prove his case. He was about to tell her as much, when he saw her wince in pain. He knew when the portal had opened, it had thrown her roughly, but not enough for her to be hurt as she was. He could also tell as he sniffed the air that her wound was anything but new.

And there it was again, that look in her eyes that told him she needed something.

Her eyes stared him down, reserved yet pleading. She didn’t want it to show but he could hear her call for his help, something only a person in trouble, would ask for. He didn’t know as of yet what year he had landed into, but he knew for a fact that it was before they had become friends. And if she needed to ask for help from someone who was still her mortal enemy, then she must was really be in trouble.

The more he went with that theory, the more he could smell the blood seeping from her wound. There was something about this night, maybe not as of yet, but soon enough that was going change her life.

“You got hurt last night,” he went with. She seemed unconvinced with his answer, but she was right. It did prove nothing. Nothing except for the fact that he was a possible stalker – and that wasn’t too far from the truth anyway. He had watched his Slayer for years, knew that when she went home at night she was secretly in pain; Slayers got hurt everyday on the job.

“Right,” he huffed. Trying to recall what must have been the few times while they were mortal enemies, that she had needed his help.

And then he hit him like a ton of bricks.

It was the night she came to him about the other Slayers. It was also around the time, things begin to get crazy with all that Key business. But what exactly should he tell her? He knew he couldn’t tell her everything. The future was very a tricky subject. There were things he supposed that she should know, but there were others – he couldn’t fix everything. However, he needed to tell her something, “Your Watcher’s Council,” he decided, his apparent dislike for the Council seeping in his voice. “Talk to them recently?”

Her brows crinkled in confusion. “The Council?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Since they’ll be coming to town soon looking to test you. And its not going to be a pretty picture...”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

He shrugged. “They’ll be coming to town probing, asking questions -- looking around, trying to find out all your little secrets. Lucky for you, your friends don’t have the answers. They’re just as in the dark as all your little Watchers are. They all don’t know about your big secret,” he finished, after cautiously picking his word. He didn’t want to say her name. Not when they were out in the open, where anyone could hear. Unfortunately, from the look she was giving him, he didn’t have much choice.

He stalled, looked up at the horizon, realizing it was just before Dawn.

With a sigh, he decided it was time to stop edging around the subject and tell her something that he knew she had told no one else.

“All those false memories to make you feel the way you do,” he decisively said. “All that love that wasn’t there in the first place. The Key, it hits a little too close to home, doesn’t it, Slayer?”


--

She knew what he was insinuating.

The fake memories, the mystical powers. Dawn, her very own sister, was the Key. Her basic instinct was strong. Her brain screamed to kill him where he stood. She hadn’t told anyone besides Giles, for fear that they would expose her secret. Yet, this person she hadn’t even thought to tell, knew everything. She could quickly reach for her stake, stick with her original plan and attack without the conversation. But from the way he looked at her, she could tell he already knew what was coming. Furthermore, something told her that he’d disappear before she even stood up to stake him.

New plan.

He knew about Dawn, that was for sure. He hadn’t outwardly saying it though. It could be that he was teasing her, taunting her with the secret that had been haunting her for the last few weeks. Still, she didn’t think that was it.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed as if he hadn’t said Dawn’s name for fear of her own safety. Because he worried -- for her safety. He could have easily said Dawn’s name out loud with no discern. If he was lucky, one of Glory’s minions would be standing nearby to hear and with no way to out maneuver Glory, Buffy would be an obsolete member of the Slayer line.

But – he hadn’t took that chance.

With sigh, she realized that anyone who was willing to protect her family, deserved at least a chance to explain themselves.

“I swear if you tell anyone,” she threatened to him first.

“Don’t worry,” he finished quickly, but hardly stomping her fear. “I won’t.”

“Then what do you want?” She asked, crossing her arms.

He paused. “You believe me?”

Maybe.

“No”, she replied quickly, with the shake of her head. “But I’m willing to hear you out. What do you want from me?”

“Help,” he grimaced, as if it hurt him to admit it and it caused her to wince as well. Never in her life had she thought of herself as the desperate type. She was strong, cunning, resourceful – some the same words she would use to describe Spike. Yet, here they were taking on what could be the rockiest alliance in slayer history because they were both in need of help. The circumstances were anomalistically in nature.

She needed him. He needed her.

Those same two thoughts raced through her head, knocking both of them from the pedestal she had made for them. Even with all their strength and wit, the world had still managed to make both of them victims.

Never had she thought of Spike as a victim before –

And she told him as much, telling him she didn’t know what she could do to help him. In a sentence, he explained what he was sent here to do. He wanted to change to the future. Or as he explained in little detail, a part of their future.

“I want to leave town this time around – ”

She looked to him with discomfort. She was reserved to his request. Part of her was discomforted by that sentence. The other half was bothered by his tone. It was the way he talked to her, his shortened response, and the lack of passion in his eyes that made her uncomfortable with him. The Spike she knew would never volunteer to leave town. The fact that this Spike took it so lightly scared her about the future, and how oddly enough, this Spike seemed to be unhuman. For the first time in her life she wished the real Spike was there.

Skepticism crossed her face. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“We’ll just change a few things,” he pushed.

“Still sounds dangerous.”

He shrugged, and retorted, “If the wrong person does it, yes.”

She raised her eyebrow. “And I’m suppose to trust you?”

He frowned, and he answered: “Who else do you have to trust?”

And when she thought about it, she realized that he was right. Oddly enough, there was no one else she could talk to - no one who she could rely on. In a world full of Watchers, gods and humans, William the Bloody was the only one who made sense.

“Fine, what do I have to do?”


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