CHAPTER TWO

Buffy was keeping busy. The months since Angel’s death had been only slightly harder than the time before it. She had never stopped mourning Spike and she wasn’t sure she had room to mourn Angel as well.

Damn him, anyway.

She remembered her rage when she had realized that she was being watched. Rage that hadn’t quit until Giles was pulling her away from a battered and bloody human. Angel’s spy.

Couldn’t he leave it? Couldn’t he just accept that she was her own person? She should have spelled it out to him, at their last meeting. She should never have told him that crap about cookie dough. She should have told him that she was in love with Spike.

She was just a coward, when it came to admitting her feelings. Even to herself.

She should have confronted him when he had shown up in Rome.

She hadn’t been ready. How could she face him, when, effectively, they were both responsible for Spike’s death? How could she be civilized, in his company, when, deep down, she wished that he’d burnt up in the hell mouth.

She hadn’t known that it would be her last chance.

The Immortal had helped her out, that night. He had connections and he knew that Angel would show up, to retrieve some demon bigwig’s head. That, coupled with Giles’ spy, reporting from the hospital that Buffy’s latest casualty had regained consciousness and had phoned L.A., made it a certainty that Angel would show. The Immortal had taken Buffy clubbing and she’d left strict instructions to Andrew, that if Angel turned up at the apartment, he should make it clear that she was not available.

It had worked…up to a point.

At the night club, she had danced and tried to recapture the way it had felt before. Before she had loved either vampire, back when she could still be young and carefree. She thought that if she could pretend to be happy, convincingly enough, she might believe it, herself.

She had sensed Angel as soon as he entered the club. Why couldn’t he take a hint?

She had danced up a storm, putting on such an act of pretended happiness. Then, suddenly, it had felt like someone had doused her in ice water.

Spike.

It had felt as though Spike was in the room, as if he and Buffy were the only people in the room. The music had faded from her hearing and she had bolted for the exit.

The Immortal had booked her - just her - into a hotel, that night. She couldn’t go back to her apartment, in case Angel showed up. Not only could she not stand to be in the same room as him, she was fairly certain that if she were, she would happily stake him. When she did go back, she found that Andrew had moved out. Giles had sent him on a ‘special assignment’. Finally, some good news!

Now, of course, Angel was dust. For reasons known only to himself, he and his friends had taken on The Circle of the Black Thorn. Then again, his behaviour had been strange, for a while.

When Buffy had gone to see him, after Willow’s resurrection spell, he had bent her ear about some prophesy. One day, he had said, he would be rewarded for his good deeds, by becoming human. He had droned on and on about the life that he and Buffy would have, then. He hadn’t asked her what she wanted, he had just assumed. She couldn’t help but be reminded of the way her friends had assumed that she needed rescuing from heaven. She had gone back to Sunnydale, realizing that she was sick to death of not being consulted in the running of her life.

After the collapse of the hell mouth and the fall of Sunnydale, Buffy had been stunned to learn that Angel and his friends were now running Wolfram and Hart! They had been fighting the law firm for years and now, suddenly they’d changed sides. Maybe, when Willow re-ensouled him, this last time, it hadn’t quite taken. Buffy couldn’t bring herself to care.

After that, things had gotten weird.

The Watcher’s council was slowly being reformed - not all the watchers had died in the London bombing - the world full of untrained slayers, needed people. Giles had gathered them in Rome, to plan the next move.

Winifred Burkle had come, the day after Angel’s death. The sweet, shy young woman had walked in, in the middle of one of the interminable meetings. She and Willow had talked quietly, for a little while and then Willow had introduced her to Roger Wyndam-Pryce. Willow had come over, then and gently told Buffy that Angel was gone. Meanwhile, Roger Wyndam-Pryce had excused himself from the room and gone outside with Fred. That had been the last time that Wesley’s father had been seen alive.

Parts of him still turned up, now and then and Buffy found herself smiling over it.

‘When I get this chip out, they’re gonna be finding your body for weeks!’

It was at times like that, when she found herself smiling, inappropriately, because of something that Spike had once said to her, that she realized that she would never be over him.

So, she trained slayers all day and prowled Rome at night, killing anything that needed killing. She no longer had a death wish - what was the point of heaven when she knew, full well, that Spike wouldn’t be there?

All she could do was keep busy.

* * * * *

Lily and Spike walked down the lane in comfortable silence, Spike's mind racing. What had happened to him? He hadn’t behaved like this since… well, that time in L.A with Harmony but he felt he’d had an excuse, then. Now? He was moving on and if it didn’t work out, with Lily, he hoped it wouldn’t hurt her too badly. He loved Buffy, had for years and always would but Lily accepted him in a way that Buffy never had and probably never could.

He had tasted her blood while they made love - a big no-no for Buffy - but Lily had thoroughly enjoyed everything they had done. His vampire nature didn’t frighten or disgust her, even when he had ‘vamped out’ in the most intimate moment, using his longer ‘demon’ tongue to reach deeper inside her than any human could.

He realized, suddenly, what was missing from their time together - shame. She wasn’t in the least bit ashamed.

“We’re coming to the stone circle, that’s where the hot spot is. There‘s a convergence of ley lines.” Lily said, pointing ahead to a field.

“The seven maidens.” Spike murmured. “I remember, there’s a poem…”

“’Seven warrior maidens fair,

Wood in hand - dust in their hair,’” Lily quoted.

“They were slayers!” Spike realized.

“’Spill their blood ere seven moons,

Stone of life and blood drenched runes.’” Lily finished. “Now that there are so many slayers, it was easy to do. Someone, we never found out who, spilled the heart blood of seven slayers on the recumbent stone, on seven consecutive full moons.”

“That created the hot spot?” Spike asked, looking at the circle of seven stones, all almost as tall as him and the slightly larger carved stone slab that lay in the centre of the ring.

“Yeah. The traffic all seems to be one way,” She pointed at a shimmering area over the recumbent, centre stone. “Things come through but so far as we know, nothing has gone through from this side, that hadn‘t come from the other place, first.”

“Don’t people notice?” Spike asked, gesturing at the shimmer.

“People dismiss it as a heat haze.”

“Humans.” Spike said, shaking his head.

“Heads in the sand.” Lily said, laughing.

“So, how do we know if anything has come through, recently?”

“We go and ask.”

She led Spike out of the field and down to the village. They stopped at a non-descript building and Spike sniffed the air.

“Demon bar.” He said, gesturing down the steps that led below street level.

“Yeah. You’ve been promised a free drink.”

“I’m not usually that popular in these places.”

“Everyone’s welcome here.” Lily replied, opening the door at the bottom of the steps.

The first thing Spike noticed, was how clean the place was. He could smell demon, of course, that was how most of these places got clientele. It’s not like they could advertise but this was a million miles away from Willy’s.

“Spike, so glad you could make it.” Lorne said, genuine pleasure in his voice. “Hey, Slay Belle, didn’t I tell you it would be OK?” He said to Lily, putting a couple of drinks in front of them.

“You did,” She said, blushing.

“Your auras get any closer, we’ll have to get you two a room.” He continued, with a big smile.

“Oi, we’re not singing.” Spike said, protesting that the green skinned demon seemed to be reading them.

“Not on the outside, maybe, kids but believe me, inside you are.”

“Anything we should know about?” Lily asked, sipping her drink.

“No, it’s been really quiet in the stones.”

“What happened with Angel?” Spike asked, “And how did you end up here?”

“You remember Cordelia?”

“How could I forget.”

Spike had been totally floored when Angel had told him and the gang, that Cordelia had not woken up and had, in fact, still been in a coma and dying - despite the appearance that she had been walking around and solid enough for Spike to bite her. He’d never experienced an astral projection that convincing before.

“Before she… went… she passed her visions on to Angel and he hatched a plot to take out The Circle of the Black Thorn, er, the senior partners instruments on Earth - apocalypse stuff.” He added, at Spike’s blank look. “He’d been planning it, secretly, since before you left.”

“That’s why he agreed, when I told him I wasn’t coming back.”

“More likely he thought you’d stake him.” Lorne had a grim, serious look on his face that didn’t quite suit the usually bubbly demon. “He went ’undercover’ to find out who were members, he had to convince them that he was evil. He managed to spread a rumour that he’d engineered Fred’s death.”

“Yeah, if I’d believed that…”

“There’s worse; Drogan came to L.A to warn us about Angel’s treachery, the circle captured him and as part of his Black Thorn initiation, Angel killed him.”

“Son of a bitch. Yeah, I’d have staked him or died trying. How’d he finally go, good scrap, was it?”

“Angel and I had an agreement, I would kill Lindsey for him and then I’d be leaving. I don’t know the details of the final fight.”

“You, killed Lindsey?” Spike hadn’t thought Lorne capable of cold blooded murder.

“Yeah and even though he was pure evil, I’m not proud of it but Angel wanted him out of the way, in case we lost. Didn’t want him rebuilding things.”

“Any of them make it?”

“Illyria. She travels around, using natural portals; she turns up here, sometimes.”

“Survivor, that one.”

“You could call it that. She misses Wesley, spends most of her time dressed as Fred.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, right, you weren’t there… it was when you and Angel went to Rome; Fred’s parents showed up, unexpectedly. No one had thought to tell them she was… anyway, Illyria turned herself into Fred and the Burkles left, thinking that all was well.”

“And Wesley?”

“Stopped speaking to her, for a while. She took his death hard. He was the only one who understood her.”

“What’s the deal with the stones?”

“Side effect of the empathy, Big Bad. Every time something comes through, I get the tingles. Mostly, they’re disorientated from the trip, a lot of them come in here for a drink, settle their nerves. If they’re the peaceable kind, it’s fine; if not, Slay Belle takes care of them.” He inclined his head further up the bar.

Spike realized that Lily was talking with a rather serious looking young man. He was painfully skinny, wearing goth style clothes and had runic symbols tattooed up both arms. He handed Lily two packages and she squealed with excitement.

“Spike,” She said, “This is Garri, he’s a local warlock, he’s been tracking something down, for me.”

Spike shook hands with the young man. Garri peered at Spike’s hair.

“Who does it for you?” He asked, running his eyes lasciviously over the rest of Spike‘s body.

“I..er.. do it myself.” Spike replied.

“He’s also a hairdresser,” Lily whispered to Spike.

“How do you manage, without a mirror?” Garri asked Spike, curiously.

“Practice.”

“I’d be happy to come over and do it for you, anytime. Any friend of Lily’s etc. Enjoy your present, see you round, I hope.” He winked and headed for the door.

“Seems OK, hope he’s being careful with the magic’s.” Spike said, watching him leave.

“He’s been working on a temporal retrieval spell. It pulls lost objects out of time.”

“Sounds advanced, what did he retrieve? He said something about a present.”

Lily smiled and handed him the larger of the two packages.

“Open this one first.” She said, hardly able to contain her excitement.

Spike took the package - about the size of a TV remote but thicker - and tore the paper off. Inside, was a case containing a very expensive looking, stylish pair of sun glasses. Spike looked at them, puzzled and Lily handed him the other package. He opened it.

“How?” he asked, stunned. “It was destroyed.”

“Snatched out of time in the instant before its destruction. It’s yours, now. Put it on.”

Spike slipped the Gem of Amara onto his finger, it promptly disappeared.

“Huh?” Spike said, he could still feel the ring but it was invisible.

“It’s a glamour, this way, no one will know you’ve got it, so no one will think to take it from you.” Lily said, with a smile. “The watcher’s council don’t know about it. I wanted to give you something special.”

Spike didn’t know what to say. He thought of all the trouble he had gone through, to find this gem and now a slayer had just handed it to him.

“We can watch the sun come up, in a few hours.” Lily said, with a smile.