Author's Chapter Notes:
Crazy info dump here. Let me know if it all makes sense.
Spike unbuttoned the cream-colored collar of his hand-me-down shirt. Before they'd left the safe house, Buffy had given him a stack of clothes that had belonged to her old Watcher, Giles, and the clothes didn't feel right. Spike hadn't worn corduroy slacks since he was in short pants and he hadn't worn anything khaki colored ever, before that day anyway. At least the ankle-length coat was black and plush cashmere.

The night was exceptionally dark with a wall of clouds blocking out the stars. Spike could smell the impending storm through the closed window of the Citroen as it glided through the night. He glanced at Buffy. Her eyes were intent on the road with one hand tightly gripping the wheel, the other holding Spike's hand with equal strength. He reveled in her power and her warmth. Spike stroked the rings encircling each slim digit, knowing that one of them had been rendering them invisible throughout the journey. The other jewels caught the light of the dashboard, twinkling coldly.

“What's with the brass knuckles? Do they all give you super powers or are you just trying to bring a little glamor to your violence?” Spike asked.

“The diamond was my mom's and the garnet was Dawn's birthstone. The two filigrees belonged to Willow. The silver band on my left thumb was Xander's, the signet ring belonged to Giles. It's not magical or anything, like the weird, green one. Giles gave that to me to help me hide. Angel gave me the Claddagh ring before he changed. I carry them with me wherever I am. I like to look down so I always know whatever I touch they're there with me,” Buffy said.

Spike brought her hand to his mouth and kissed every one of Buffy's fingers, making her smile. If he could, Spike would spend the rest of his existence trying to lift the sadness away from that smile, those eyes, he thought.

**

Tara was waiting in front of Hocus Pokus, the occult shop in Oakland. The little shop across the way from the liquor store was was one among many on the steep street that connected Forbes Avenue and Fifth Street like the rung of a ladder. The only thing that differentiated the place from the noodle shop next to it was the pentagram painted on the darkened window.

Tara's long, scarlet-colored skirt sparkled with beads. Her coat was thick and black with feathery tendrils of fake fur around the collar that quivered with her frosted breath. Buffy and Spike approached her; still holding hands, still invisible. Tara was looking pensively in the distance, her soft face scrunched in concentration when they appeared about a foot in front of her. Tara jumped and let out a whooping sound; Spike caught her before she could slip on the icy sidewalk.

“Geeez, don't do t,t,that!” she said.

“Sorry, love, how have you been?” Spike asked as he hugged his sister.

He was surprised that when their embrace ended Tara immediately grabbed Buffy and gave her a squeeze as well.

“I've got s, s,some bad news, but we can't t,t,talk here. T,t,there's a place that's on a mystical convergence, we'll be protected from anyone t,t,trying t,t,to find us,” Tara said.

“Wait, what, we're being looked for? Wesley said Angel is dead--” Buffy said.

“It's not Angel, Buffy. You know it's not, part of you can feel it, can't you?” Tara asked.

Spike looked at Buffy as she nodded slowly, twisting the Claddagh ring on her middle finger.

“Come on, I'll explain everything when we get t,t,there,” Tara said.

**

Buffy was looking over the laminated menu in front of her. One of the waitresses was giving them the hairy eyeball because they were taking so long to order. The server was wearing a pair of green scrubs and white sneakers, like a nurse who brought hash browns.

To Spike's surprise, Tara had led them to one of the more notorious all-night diners in Pittsburgh. Who would've thought the mystical convergence of the universe would be famous for its breaded zucchini planks, he thought.

“So is there anything that's not fried?” Buffy asked.

“The orange juice. Why don't you get the pancakes, love, you need to keep up your strength ,” Spike said.

“Oh, but skinny jeans,” Buffy said.

“You're perfect love, the way you work yourself to the bone you deserve something sweet,” Spike said. She grinned at him and then kissed his cheek.

“Pancakes it is,” she said.

“When did you guys go from t,t,the hostage s,s,situation t,t,to being all couple-y?” Tara asked with a smirk.

Buffy ducked her head and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. Spike squeezed her knee, and she covered his hand with hers.

“Even with everything that’s happened, I still feel like I can trust him the most. It just took awhile to see,” Buffy said.

Sympathy softened the mirth of Tara’s smile. She set her menu flat on the table, signaling the waitress.
The server sidled up to their table and scratched out their orders on a curling pad, wearing a dour expression on her otherwise lovely face. Tara got the fried green tomatoes, Buffy the chocolate chip pancakes and Spike a coffee because the hot chocolate machine was broken. As soon as the waitress was gone, Tara fed some money into the small, tableside jukebox mounted on the wall. She flipped through the playlist on the rectangular box and then punched in some numbers.

“Send in the Clowns” started playing.

“A little night music,” Tara said.

“Oi, why’d you put this shit on, you know it always makes me cry, and it’s the Frank Fucking Sinatra version at that,” Spike said, scowling over his empty coffee cup.

“You cry at show tunes? That’s adorable,” Buffy said.

“Not all, just that one,” Spike said, softly.
Tara raised a hand to stop them.

“It’s enchanted, creates a magical barrier s,s,so no one can hear us,” Tara said.

At that, Spike noticed that he couldn’t hear the sounds of other diners or dishes being shuffled about.

“You guys know why I left, but there’s more to it. I’ve always been empathetic, can s,s,see auras and s,s,souls. I’ve been closing t,t,the doors of perception t,t,through meditation, but I’ve also been opening t,t,them,” Tara said.

“Cut to the chase, love, before we get to the chorus and I start blubbering like an infant,” Spike said.

“I’ve been getting information about Angel and Lacy by t,t,talking t,t,to t,t,their s,s,spirits. Not just t,t,them t,t,though. Giles t,t,too,” Tara said.

Buffy froze; her eyes wide.

“That can’t be, Lacy is doing something, the blood—“

Tara reached out and took Buffy’s hand.

“Giles t,t,told me s,s,something only he could know because what I have to s,s,say next is going to hurt. He s,s,said you wouldn’t believe t,t,the t,t,truth unless I proved it to you.

'When you were five your dad gave you a necklace with a s,s,silver s,s,skate for your birthday. You lost it t,t,the very next day and your father was livid. A month later your parents got divorced. For years you looked for t,t,that s,s,silver s,s,skate every t,t,time you cleaned your room, even after you moved t,t,to another house in another city. You t,t,told Giles about it and for your fifteenth birthday he had an exact copy made.

'You t,t,told your father, Hank and he didn’t remember ever giving you the gift, you losing it, or his anger. When you s,s,saw Giles you s,s,said t,t,that unconsciously you’d always t,t,thought if you found t,t,the s,s,skate, you’d get your father back. What you realized was t,t,that in a way you did,” Tara said.

By the time Tara finished speaking, all three of them were crying.

“But if ghosts can see everything—“ Buffy said.

“T,t,they can’t. In fact, t,t,they’re more limited t,t,than living t,t,things. Ghosts are afterimages, the dot you see on your eyelids after s,s,staring into a bright light,” Tara said.

The song ended and then the waitress was plunking plates down in front of the girls. Some tepid coffee was sloshed into Spike’s cup; he could tell by the scent that it was too burnt for consumption. “Send in the Clowns,” restarted and Tara resumed her tale.

“From what I’ve been able t,t,to gather, t,t,there’s a prophecy about you, Buffy. T,t,the council’s s,s,seers predicted it t,t,the day you were called. You would stop an apocalypse and close t,t,the Cleveland Hellmouth, you would love a vampire, you would die and be brought back to life by a powerful witch. Afterward, you would destroy the council. At first no one was certain t,t,that it would come t,t,true, but t,t,then things s,s,started t,t,to line up.

'When Angel became a vampire, t,t,the Council brass decided t,t,to act. T,t,they t,t,told Giles t,t,to kill Willow because she had the makings to become a potent Wiccan. He refused, because he loved you guys like his own. He didn’t believe t,t,the prophecy was valid, t,t,the s,s,seers had been wrong before.”

“So you’re saying Lacy was acting on orders of her bosses when she sold Willow out. Did she tell you that, because she lies. I wouldn’t doubt her ghost tells floaty, incorporeal lies, too,” Buffy said.

“No, Giles t,t,told me. Buffy, didn’t you wonder how Angel got to Giles after you warned him? Or how Angel was able to kidnap Dawn? Or how Billy got attacked the same day you told him you loved him? Hasn’t that ever s,s,struck you as odd?”

“Devastating, yes, odd, no.”

“T,t,the council had been working with Angel t,t,to control you, t,t,to prune out anyone who might be a t,t,threat.”

“How was Dawn a threat, how could a ten-year-old girl possibly—“ Buffy couldn’t continue, she was crying so hard she hardly seemed to be breathing.

Spike held her and she folded into his chest. He noticed that none of the other patrons were paying attention to their table, a benefit of the mystical show tune convergence, he supposed. Just then, the song ended and a table of heavyset, middle-aged men in flannel shirts and trucker hats looked their way. Then the song played for a third time.

“Angel wasn’t supposed to kill Dawn, just like he wasn’t s,s,supposed t,t,to t,t,turn Willow or Lacy. He’d been s,s,sent t,t,to kill you. T,t,they underestimated him, his evil.”

“Why didn’t they kill me then, just poison my food or smother me while I slept?”

“Angel promised them things for the privilege; power over the underworld. Also, not everyone in the Council wanted to deal with him. There were warring factions within the Council; some didn’t believe t,t,the prophecy, others wanted t,t,to wait for t,t,the closure of t,t,the Hellmouth. Some wanted t,t,to kill Angel outright, others wanted t,t,to help you. After what happened to Dawn, sympathy went your way.”

“So that means Wesley knew about this?” Buffy asked, her voice barely audible.

“Why do you t,t,think he drinks?” Tara asked.

Buffy couldn’t speak, she just shook silently.


"Now more of t,t,the prophecy has come true. You love Billy even t,t,though he’s a vampire, you’ve closed t,t,the Hellmouth.”

“I never died,” Buffy said, her voice smothered by Spike’s shoulder. Buffy sounded so uncertain as she said the words.

“And you won’t,” Spike said, wishing he could make it so.

“Point is, you can’t go back t,t,to t,t,that house with t,t,that man. We have t,t,to hide,” Tara said.

“Why we, love? Buffy and I can--”

“I'm not leaving you again, Billy,” Tara said.

“I have to see Wesley, this can't be true,” Buffy said.

“Buffy--” Tara said.

“I would know. I would,” Buffy said.

“I can s,s,show you,” Tara said.


Chapter End Notes:
Hocus Pocus is a real place, as is the diner. It's called Ritter's and the wait staff is super-surly. When I lived there, the hot chocolate machine was always broken, too. Maybe they've gotten it fixed by now, but I doubt it.
"Send in the Clowns," was written by Stephen Sondheim for the musical "A Little Night Music."
It makes me cry like a blubbering infant, even when sung by Krusty the Clown.
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