Buffy looked around her long dinner table and smiled. All her friends were around her, including a few newly activated Slayerette stragglers leftover from their battle with the First. Everyone was talking at once. They were eating, laughing, and having a good time. They had finally settled down after traveling aimlessly from city to city. Everyone was acting like themselves again. They were coping with the loss of Sunnydale.
“Buffy, are you alright?”
“I’m great,” she replied, smiling at her sister. “We’re all together. We’ve got a new home and a fresh demon population to terrorize. Things couldn’t be better.”
Dawn’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t come out and accuse Buffy of lying.
“And speaking of that demon population, I think I’ll do a quick sweep of the neighborhood to work off dinner.” Picking up her empty plate and cup, Buffy scooted her chair back and headed for the kitchen.
“You don’t have to pretend, you know. At least not all the time. That smile of yours is starting to get creepy.”
“What do you mean?” Buffy turned on the faucet long enough to rinse her dishes then she faced her sister again. “I smile because we’re good. Everything is coming together for us here.”
“Can you stop with all that communal ‘we’ stuff? How are you feeling, Buffy? Are you really okay? We all miss Spike, but--.”
“I don’t want to talk about him,” Buffy blurted, cutting Dawn off. She tried to leave the kitchen, but Dawn blocked her path. Her arms were crossed and she looked determined. Not wanting a fight, Buffy took a deep breath and kept her cool. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong.”
“You never want to talk about him.”
“I didn’t like talking about the guy when he was alive. Now that Spike is gone, what else is there to say? He died a hero. He saved the world. We’re alive because of him.”
When Dawn said nothing, Buffy sighed. “Okay, you’re right. I do miss him, and I hate that he isn’t here with us. I’m mourning him, but…”
“What?” Dawn asked, unfolding her arms. “What is it?”
“It’s hard to explain. I know death and I know what it feels like to lose someone…”
“Mom?”
Buffy nodded. “And Anya. Tara. Kendra. Ms. Calendar. All the girls that died because of the First. When it comes to Spike, it doesn’t feel the same. Something’s off. It isn’t right.”
“No one is forcing you to move on. If you’re missing him, it’s okay. Just talk to us, and please, stop smiling like a serial killer all the time, okay? You aren’t fooling anyone.”
“We’re all here for you, Buffy,” Dawn continued, giving her a hug.
Buffy found herself forcing another close-lipped grin as she returned her sister’s embrace. She hoped to have her friends’ support after they learned of her plans regarding Spike, but she was skeptical. She had no proof, only a gut feeling and an uncomfortable pang in her heart. Although she had witnessed Spike’s final moments in Sunnydale, Buffy knew he wasn’t dead. She wasn’t sure of where he was, if he was even in her same dimension, she just knew he wasn’t completely gone. And she knew she had to see him again.
“You should take a jacket with you; it’s a little cold out there.”
“What?”
“You said you wanted to patrol,” Dawn reminded her with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah,” Buffy said, taking a step back. “Maybe I’ll let it wait.”
“Then you’ll go back to the table with me? Hopefully we haven’t missed dessert. Andrew and I spent a lot of time breaking in the stove today. You won’t believe the recipes we found online. Have you ever heard of kitty litter cupcakes?”
Buffy allowed her sister to pull her back into the dining room and again she smiled at her friends. It was a slight smile, but it was genuine.
***
“I see Giles wasn’t kidding about sending his private library from England to us.”
“The books keep coming and coming,” Buffy answered with a pout. “I don’t know where to begin.”
Buffy and Willow stood side by side in the crowded living room. Towers of brown shipping boxes where everywhere.
“Some of the books have to be more useful than others. Let’s pull out those,” Willow suggested.
Buffy chose a random box and went through its contents. “Uh, okay,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Looking at the titles isn’t much help. Most of them aren’t in English, and the ones that are…are still completely foreign to me.”
“That Watcher is freaking insane!” Kennedy, Willow’s girlfriend, trudged through the front door with four more boxes in her arms. She dropped them noisily onto the carpet. “Why doesn’t Giles just open his own shitty library here in town? He’s seen Buffy’s new place, where does he expect us to cram all these books, up our asses?”
“That’s my cue,” Willow sang, flashing Buffy a goofy smile. She went to Kennedy and lovingly patted her shoulder. “Sweetie, I think it’s time for a break.”
Once she and Buffy were alone again, Willow whispered, “Sorry, unpacking makes her cranky.”
“I think that’s the universal reaction to moving,” Buffy shrugged. “Besides, she has a point. This is getting out of control. How’s a girl supposed to find anything in this mess?”
“It’s a good thing she doesn’t need to. It’ll take us weeks to sort this out. Each box is like a tiny haystack, full of tiny book-shaped needles.”
“So my living room is filled to the brim with haystacks?” Buffy’s eyes grew wide; realizing that finding a spell for Spike might be harder than expected. “This isn’t good.”
“Don’t worry; we haven’t stumbled across any big bads yet. And with you and the Slayettes, we’ll have enough muscle to take ‘em down when we do.”
“What if we need a spell?”
“Well, that could get tricky,” Willow admitted. “As long as we don’t need a specific spell I think we’ll be good. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty super at magical improv.”
“When do you need specific spells? Can’t you just pick one and make it work for you?”
“It depends.”
“On what?” Keeping her hands busy, Buffy casually flipped through one of Giles’s books. “Do you have any examples?”
“Not off hand,” Willow laughed. “Buffy, why are you interested in magic all of a sudden?”
“I’ve been researching.” She waited a beat then she rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ve been googling. Unsuccessfully. I thought the books would make everything easier. At least I’d know the information was legit and not composed by some War of Warcraft freak from his basement. I picture a million Andrew-nerds posting the majority of what I found on the Internet.”
“What are you looking for? Can I help?”
“You may not want to,” Buffy warned. “Not when you learn that I’m trying to conjure the dead.”
“You’re kidding,” Willow snickered.
“Uh, no.” She reluctantly met Willow’s eyes. “I’m completely serious.”
“But…why? And who?”
“Want to guess? I’ll give you a hint: he once was a bleached blond, vampire-shaped pain in the ass.”
“Oh. Oh, Buffy.”
She tried not to cringe at Willow’s sympathetic coo. “It can be temporary, I don’t care,” she mumbled. “Even if Spike is really dead, I just need to--.”
“Even if? Sweetie, the Hellmouth collapsed. The amulet he was wearing, you said it made sunlight shine through his body. He would’ve disintegrated. No one could survive that.”
Buffy’s eyes fluttered briefly to a close. “I don’t like the way he and I left things. I told him something. He more or less blew me off. He isn’t going to get away with it.”
“I don’t know what to say… Can I talk you out of this?”
She met Willow’s pleading eyes and felt guilt. It wasn’t enough to sway her.
“This means a lot to you,” Willow continued softly.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll help.”
“Will, you don’t have to. I can do this on my own. You shouldn’t feel obligated--.”
“Don’t say another word. We’ll need something that belonged to him. And we probably won’t need any of Giles’s crummy old books after all. I have a spell in mind that should do the trick.”
“Oh, God, Will, you don’t know how grateful I am!” A rush of nervous excitement surged through Buffy’s body. “But what if I can’t find anything of his?”
“Giles told everyone to pack an emergency bag before Sunnydale went ka-blewie.”
“I remember, but we’re talking about Spike. He stayed in my basement for weeks and he didn’t exactly personalize the place. He had nothing but his clothing.”
“And he did wear that tight black t-shirt and those jeans an awful lot…”
“What if I can’t find anything?” Buffy asked again. “I don’t think Spike’s stuff ever left his crypt and now it’s under a thousand tons of rubble.”
“Have you finished unpacking? Have you gone through everything you took off the school bus? Since we can’t get to his body, an object he cared about is the next best thing. Our essence kinda rubs off of the things we hold close. Literally and figuratively. It’s pretty neat actually.”
“So, that’s all it will take? I find one of his things and, whosh, he’ll be back?”
“It’ll be a little more complex than that, and the spell will be temporary.”
“Right.” Buffy didn’t quite mask her disappointment. “And if he’s not dead…? It’s crazy, I know, but humor me?”
“We’d replace the conjuring spell with a locating spell. If we performed a locating spell right now--.”
“All signs would probably point to Sunnydale.”
“There’s no doubt about it.”
“Okay,” Buffy replied, although she wasn’t completely convinced. “I guess it’s time I went on a scavenger hunt.”
***
Buffy was thinking about her last day with Spike. They had woken up together after spending the night sleeping in each other’s arms. She remembered him being nearby for the rest of the morning, right up until the moment she’d said goodbye by touching his hand and threading her fingers through his.
At some point on that frantic day, Spike must’ve dropped the small drawstring bag into her suitcase without her knowing. She’d never seen the velvet pouch before. And after opening it, its contents left her very confused.
Sitting cross-legged on her bed, she stared blankly at the line of items. There was a lacy handkerchief, two jeweled hairpins, a locket on a chain and a handful of tiny white buttons. None of it made sense. And none of the items looked as if they had belonged to Spike.
She had opened the locket and was studying the faded photograph inside when Xander walked through her open bedroom door.
“I hear you’re in need of my carpentry skills.”
“I am?”
“You have a heap of books. Therefore you require Harris-made bookshelves. And I know what you’re thinking: one-eyed Xander shouldn’t be playing with power tools, but don’t you underestimate me, missy.”
“I wasn’t estimating you at all,” Buffy replied. Seeing that Xander was about to join her on the bed, she pushed aside Spike’s things. “I’d never doubt your carpentry skills.”
“What about my ability to cope with crazy news? Like, let’s say you’re trying to bring our not-so-dearly departed friend Spike back from the finally dead, for example. How do you think I’d handle a nugget of insanity like that?”
“With kindness and understanding?” Buffy suggested lightheartedly. When Xander didn’t appear to share her humor, she smiled at him anyway. “You’d be Mister Protective Judgmental Guy in the beginning, but you’d eventually come around and you’d be Mister Grudgingly Supportive Guy in the end. Because you’re awesome like that.”
“Now, I think you’re overestimating me.” Avoiding eye contact, Xander focused on the floral pattern of Buffy’s bedspread. “You weren’t the only one to lose someone that day. Anya was killed. It was stupid and unnecessary. She was protecting Andrew of all people. It isn’t fair, but I have to live with it every day.”
“Xander, you are so much stronger than me.” When he snorted, she insisted that he look at her. “I mean it. I’m giving in, Xan. I want Spike back for purely selfish reasons. I tell myself a few more days with him are all I need, but once the spell wears off… Look at me, I’m already dreading the end of a spell that hasn’t been cast. And look at these things. Willow needs an object that belonged to Spike for the spell to work. I think they were his, but—a necklace, hairpins, a freaking hanky? I have no idea about the buttons. Who saves buttons like they are precious anyway?”
Xander rolled one of the pearl shaped buttons between his fingers. He held it up to the light and said, “Well, I think the buttons might be ivory if that helps.”
“He said he didn’t care about her anymore,” Buffy grumbled, talking mostly to herself. “Why did he hang on to her stuff?”
“I’m no jeweler, but the gemstones on the hairpins look real too. The locket’s probably real gold.”
“So maybe he was going to pawn them?” She brightened instantly at the thought. “That makes sense! I bet he kept a stash of Drusilla’s old-fashioned doodads to pawn for extra cash!”
“Including her hanky?” Xander pinched the handkerchief with two fingers before flicking it away. “It could be my mono vision, but this doesn’t look like anything special to me. Doubt he’d get much of a payday for a doily.”
“He must’ve had some bizarro attachment to it,” Buffy shrugged. “Everything here is really old and that big ho is older than dirt. Spike and Dru were a vampire super couple. I guess I can’t blame him for keeping a few mementos.”
“Do you really feel that way?” Xander asked, noticing Buffy’s deep frown. “What if you end up conjuring Drusilla?”
“That can’t happen. That isn’t an option. There is no way--.”
“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands to ward off Buffy’s scowl.
“Spike was an emotional sap, alright? Beneath that nasty vampire shell was a big, dumb, annoyingly loyal…occasionally sweet, poet guy.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “I just didn’t expect this. I was so worried that I wouldn’t find anything of his, and now, of all the things to keep protected, he chose her…”
“He told you he loved you, didn’t he? Isn’t that why Spike bothered us incessantly for all those years?”
“Uh…yes,” Buffy replied.
“Then stop wigging out over some antique store knickknacks. Let Willow look them over. I’m sure she’ll be able to use her witchy powers to scan them for Spike’s juju or whatever.”
“You think so?”
“Honestly, who knows?” Xander got up and he helped Buffy to her feet by offering her a hand. “But it’s worth a shot.”
“Yeah, it is,” Buffy agreed. “Thanks for saying that.”
“Hey, they don’t call me Mister Grudgingly Supportive Guy for nothing. Let’s go track down Willow.”
***
“I like the locket.”
“Is it giving off the most, uh, essence o’ Spike?”
“No,” Willow grinned. “I just think it’s gorgeous. Who’s the man in the picture?”
“I have no clue,” Buffy answered. “I don’t recognize him.”
“The picture is a little yellow, but it’s in great condition. Somebody’s taken care of this. The locket’s been polished too. Drusilla would never be lucid enough to do that.”
“So, you can use it to bring Spike back?” Buffy asked.
“And please confirm there’s no chance of beaming Drusilla into Buffy’s dining room,” Xander added.
“Guys, I can only tweak the spell so much,” Willow explained. “A lot will be left to chance and the object we choose. Since we don’t have Spike’s remains, this is our best bet.”
“Or we could not do the spell at all…”
Buffy shot Xander a dirty look. It made him sink deeper into his chair.
“Someone cared deeply about these things, and the spell will bring that person to us.” Willow paused to squint at the book in front of her. “I can throw a few words in here and there to set some boundaries. For example, I can clarify that we don’t want to displace a living person or, a, um…living vampire? We want a twice-dead vampire, right? Does that even make sense? Oh my gosh, this vampire stuff makes my head hurt a little.”
“Will, if it’s too complicated, maybe Xander’s right.” It pained Buffy to say the words. “If there’s too much risk…”
“Oh, pish,” Willow replied, waving her hand.
“Huh?”
“I don’t know, it just seemed like something Giles would say. I can do this, Buffy. Like I said, I’ll add some words and we should be fine. I’ll bind Spike to the locket—if you want to use the locket for the spell, that is.”
“That’s fine with me,” Buffy shrugged.
“If something goes funky, you break the locket. He will vanish. No matter what, he shouldn’t be here longer than a few days. Let’s say three or four days tops. Wonky things will happen if you keep him around too long.”
“On a scale from one to ten, how wonky are we talking about?” Xander asked, sitting up straight in his chair.
“Uh…” Willow consulted her book again. “I’ll probably have to research it more in depth, but--.”
“Don’t bother,” Buffy interrupted. “The bottom line is: don’t push my luck. After the weekend, no matter how pretty it is, the locket gets to meet my hammer. If Drusilla shows up, I’ll stomp on the damn thing and we’ll try to conjure him with the hanky next. Does that settle everything?”
Buffy looked from Willow to Xander, but her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly see straight. “Alright, let’s do this. Preferably now, before Dawn and the Slayerettes come home from school please.”
The next few minutes were a blur. Buffy’s mind was racing. What should she say to him? Should she hug him? Kiss him? She and Spike were closer than ever during those last three nights. Would those feelings continue? Would they escalate? How would she be able to cope with loosing him again?
“Hey, Buffy, we’re ready now.” Willow’s soft voice interrupted the haze. “It might be helpful if we all think of Spike. Take Xander’s hand, Buffy.”
She zoned out again once Willow started chanting. She kept her eyes shut and focused on Spike. She thought about his bleached hair, sharp cheekbones and lean muscled body.
“Uh, Buffy?”
Behind closed eyes, she saw a flash of light.
“Buffy? Buff, you need to see this.”
“Just tell me, is it Drusilla?”
“No, it definitely isn’t Drusilla,” Xander answered. “It isn’t Spike either.”
Buffy’s eyes opened and then they grew wide. An elderly woman was standing at the end of her dining room table.
“William?” the woman said, clutching the collar of her dress. “Where’s William? Where’s my son?”
***
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This hasn’t been beta’d by anyone but myself, so if you’re interested or see errors, let me know. I don’t know anything about the comics. I did some research, but excuse any historical inaccuracies. I do not own the characters.