I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed this story. Each and every one has meant alot to me. And don't worry, the sequel is already being written and I'm not taking off two weeks. I'll probably start posting part deux no later than Thursday.
[A/N: Here endth the beginning. To quote Winston Churchill, “now is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” I’ve always liked that quote, even before I really knew what it meant. After this, I’ll be taking about a week off, (perhaps, depends on a few things) then will start posting Origins: Revelations (or something like that – got a better title, send me an email). I’d like to take a moment here, to thank someone that I’ve never mentioned before – my son. He’s put up with a lot from me in the last couple of weeks, while I focused on this and he deserves the PS2 that he won not to long ago. So, to my own, my heart, I love you so much I could barf (and that’s a quote from his Valentine’s day card to me). Disclaimers are still in full force and effect. The title of this comes from the song by The Cult, (she sells) Sanctuary (great English underground band); and the quotes are as attributed. Slainte, one and all – Nia]
Previously: Buffy (and Spike) has faced Angel and come away whole. Willow is back at her parent’s house and the rest of the gang are all trying to settle into something resembling normalcy. . . . We’ll see just how long that lasts.
52. In her you’ll find sanctuary
and the world and the world
the fire in your eyes
the world drags me down
keeps me alive
and the fire in your eyes
keeps me alive
I’m sure in her you’ll find
sanctuary
I’m sure in her you’ll find
sanctuary
The Cult, (She sells) Sanctuary
At the close of day
the sunset cloaks
these words in shadowplay
here and now, long and loud
my heart cries out
and the naked bone of an echo says
don’t walk away
Reach out your hands
I’m just a step away
how in the world
Can I wish for this?
Never to be torn apart
close to you
til the last beat
of my heart.
How in the world
Can I wish for this?
Never to be torn apart
til the last beat
til the last fleeting beat
of my heart
Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Last Beat of my Heart, from the album Peepshow
Tara had gone back upstairs after Xander and Willow left, telling Dawn that she wasn’t hungry and that if she wanted anything she’d fix it herself later.
Dawn watched her go, worry written on her face. Tara, along with Spike, occupied a very important place in her life, all unexpectedly. They had become, in the time that Buffy was gone, the two people she could rely upon. Tara had helped her, and it was nearly as good as having her mom, probably doing a way better job than Buffy could’ve. She’d done stuff for her that a friend shouldn’t have to do – like help her with her first period. And other stuff, like making sure the everyday things were taken care of – food – laundry, hell Tara had paid the bills, using a lot of Spike’s money, but she still paid them.
Stricken by a sudden thought, Dawn pounded up the stairs after the other girl.
“Tara?” Tapping on her bedroom door, Dawn wasn’t surprised when she heard Tara crying. “Tara?”
The door opened and she watched while Tara walked to the bed, her back to Dawn. “What Dawnie?”
“I just wanted to say something. Is this a bad time?” Oh god, what a dorky thing to say.
“What is it?” Tara slumped on the bed, turning watery eyes on the younger girl.
“Thank you. For everything you did for me, all summer.” Dawn sat down on the bed at Tara’s feet. Looking earnestly at the older girl, Dawn continued, “I had to tell you, because its important for you to know.”
Tara was surprised. “Dawnie . . th. . that’s so sweet.”
“Just wanted you to know. You’re important to me. Without you, dunno what would’ve happened.”
Fresh tears, this time not of grief, filled Tara’s eyes. “Oh sweetie.”
Her arms opened and the younger girl just settled against her. Dawn’s murmured, “plus I think you needed to know how much you mean to me,” went straight to Tara’s battered heart.
************************************ ****************************************
Going backwards, that’s what she was doing. Moving nowhere. Her parents weren’t home, they didn’t know she was coming back, not that either of them would notice. She’d left a message on her mother’s cell phone earlier, after she’d called Xander, just to let her know that her only daughter was returning home. He’d offered her the spare bedroom in his apartment, but she’d said no. Willow couldn’t imagine sharing living space with Anya. She wasn’t all that comfortable around the ex-demon even with their sort of bonding over Olaf.
Truth was, she still didn’t like Xander’s girlfriend. Could only take her in small doses. So she’d refused Xander’s offer.
And that’s how she ended up back where she started, lost and alone, no one at home and on the outside again.
Still with the not understanding why. She’d thought Buffy was in a hell dimension – it’s the only thing that made sense, but Buffy said that’s not where she was. How could she have made that big a mistake?
Had she?
Tara seemed to believe her, and except for the Spike situation, which was still oooky and bad, Buffy’s admission had a ring of truth.
What had she done?
*********************************** ****************************************
They stood there stunned, as the door shut behind Angel, neither one sure what had just happened. Anya twitched a bit when some of the smaller display items teetered on the shelves from the force of the slamming door. The roll-down gate rattled ominously then stilled.
“Do you think he’s going to follow them?” Anya wrung her hands. “That wouldn’t be good if he did that.”
“I don’t think he will.” Giles ventured a guess. Replacing his glasses back on his head, he wandered to the register in preparation for counting out the day’s receipts, when Anya realized what he was doing.
“No. Giles, that’s my responsibility. I count the money. You deal with the rest of it.” Reaching out to shoo him away, she brushed her hand against his, feeling a jolt of energy go through her. Looking up at him quizzically, Anya fought the urge to blurt out her reaction, wondering if he’d felt it also. Giles stepped back from the register, moving away from her, suddenly aware they were in the shop, alone, after hours.
Brushing aside his reaction to her presence as nothing more than the over-charged atmosphere of the last few hours, Giles moved through the glass bead curtain to the front door, his hand still tingling from her touch.
“Anya?” His voice sounded over his shoulder. “Do you think perhaps Buffy or Spike might be interested in filling the mail orders?”
Ever since she’d mentioned it the other day, it had been in the back of his mind to broach the subject with her, get a feel for what she thought about it. He thought it felt right, offering the position to either one of them, rather than seek outside help. The job would go a long way to paying some of the bills, though between them all they’d managed to keep the house afloat, and give Buffy more time to acclimate back into the world.
With his back to her, he sensed the increased intensity of her gaze on him, suddenly attuned to her attention. As he reached the front window, releasing the roll-down gate, Giles asked her again, “well, what do you think?”
She was watching him, a calculating gleam in her eyes, but a mixture of emotions on her features. Anya thought about it for a moment then reached an internal decision, saying, “well its not an entirely bad idea. I’m not sure Buffy’s up to working and really, do we know what kind of work history Spike has? Is either one of them competent enough to handle the business?”
Giles gaped at her. “You are aware you are talking about Spike?”
Nodding her head, Anya countered with, “I do know its Spike. There’s no denying his appeal, but I mean, really Giles, I don’t know if he knows how to coordinate orders like that.” To Anya, nothing was more important than customer satisfaction, because customer satisfaction meant increased sales and increased sales meant more money. It was a win-win situation. She wasn’t going to sacrifice any of her profits for any reason.
“Do you realize that Spike is probably the best educated person you’ve ever met?” It pained him to admit that, but Giles had to give the vampire credit, despite his own reluctance to admit to Spike he was the smarter of the two of them.
Lifting her head up from counting the day’s totals, Anya stared at Giles. He’d just admitted Spike was intelligent. “Well, I’ve always known he was smart.”
Making his way back toward the counter, Giles shook his head in denial. “I don’t think you realize what I’m saying Anya. I think the last person we need to worry about being able to fill orders is Spike.”
Anya put the money down then reached across the counter to touch Giles’ hand. This time, neither one of them could deny the spark, because at the same instant, they both looked up at each other. She forgot completely what she was about to say and watched transfixed as Giles fiddled with his glasses. Keeping uncharacteristically silent, Anya went back to counting, her eyes downcast and tried vainly to stop the blush spreading across her cheeks.
************************************ ******************************************
They were both quiet on the walk home from the Magic Box, each immersed in their own thoughts. Spike had no illusions that this was completely resolved, especially given Angel’s single-mindedness. The only positive was Darla’s condition because there was enough turmoil there to keep the bloody poofter occupied and keep his attention away from them. But they’d weathered this storm, come through the first hurdles, and it amazed him.
Which was more than he’d ever hoped for. He’d been prepared for her rejection once she found her bearings, but she hadn’t cut him loose as she gained her footing. If anything she’d opened up more.
They weren’t hiding in the shadows, pretending they weren’t together, pretending there was nothing real between them. The opposite was true. They were openly living together. A couple. Giles approved. Tara approved. Dawn – well, his Niblet was happier than a piglet. And Buffy had just given her first love the boot but good.
He gazed at her for a moment, catching sight of her profile. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but gods above how the thought of her affected him. He stopped in his tracks just to watch her.
The enormity of what she’d just done hit him with the force of a drowning wave. She’d just told the love of her life – and some vague memory of a half-drunken impassioned speech he’d made to her once about it flashed in his head – she’d told the love of her life to leave. And now, here she was walking home, to a home they shared together, beside him.
And obviously not thinking he was the second prize.
He stared at her back, dumbfounded.
*********************************** ****************************************
God, so needed out of there, was her first coherent thought away from the Magic Box. Away from Angel.
Watching Willow and Tara fall apart had forced Buffy into some serious thinking, about control and power and what it meant to be a couple – Spike’s actions since her return doing the same thing. And she’d realized some hard truths. She may have loved Angel, but he hadn’t loved her back, not the way she needed, anyway.
She’d been blind, unable to see what was in front of her the whole time. Angel had controlled and manipulated and made decisions about their life together, never once taking into consideration her wants or needs or desires and he’d completely ignored her dreams.
Whatever that emotion was – it sure as hell wasn’t love.
Buffy was pretty sure she knew what love was now. Like she’d just said to Angel, love was doing all the things Spike had been doing, taking care of the people she’d left behind, all of her loved ones. She’d trusted him with everything that was important to her – with Dawn. And he’d kept them all safe – even Xander.
She was pretty sure that alone was love.
Buffy stifled a teary laugh.
To think she’d once told him he was beneath her. God what a bitch she’d been to him. Still he’d done it all for her.
For her memory.
She’d almost blurted it out – in front of Angel, what she was beginning to feel, what she was going to stop denying. Instead, almost as if he’d known what she was about to say and wanted it said differently, he’d stolen a kiss.
Buffy looked up at him – and realized he wasn’t there, walking beside her. Whirling around, slightly panicked, she turned about and caught him watching her, a pensive look on his face.
“Spike?” Tilting her head, she watched him as he shook off his reverie.
“Yeah?” He tried for the swagger, but it faltered after a moment, his awe too great to overcome.
“What’s wrong?” Her smile was a bit tentative almost as if she were afraid of his answer.
“Nothin’s wrong love. Jus’ . . . “ struggling to find the right words, he settled for honest emotion to carry him through, “jus’ dunno if you understand . . how I feel. I love you, Buffy. W’everythin’ I am, all I have. Isn’t anythin’ I wouldn’t do for you.”
Her lip quivered and tears sprang, not just in her eyes, but in his also. “Give up my life to keep you safe, you an’ Dawn.”
Taking a step forward, he continued, “think I’ve always loved you, from the first, knew I wanted you then, jus’ . . god kitten, so full of fire an’ life. . . . you light up the world for me.”
Spike watched as tears slid down her cheeks, her hand raised to her mouth, holding back little hitching sobs.
“Christ . . you jus’ . . I love you.”
Neither one was sure who reached out first, neither one cared. All that mattered was his arms around her and she holding onto him. “Oh Spike . . I . . “
“Shhh, love. I know.”
And he thought, for the first time in his long existence, that he actually might be right.
************************************* ***************************************
After leaving Tara, Dawn had gone to her own room to get ready for bed, tired and drained. Today had been difficult. She should have known major badness was on its way, after all, school had started. Dawn was beginning to wonder if activity around the hellmouth was triggered by excessive teen-aged hormones in the vicinity. It was as good a theory as any.
She had a sudden need to write all that had happened down in her journal.
Pulling it out from under her pillow, Dawn unintentionally grabbed two of the monks’ journals. For a long couple of minutes she stared at them, wondering where she got the constant need to chronicle her day from, was it because the monks kept journals? Opening the top one resolutely she curled up on her bed and began to read. On page fourteen, she hit pay dirt.
We have found him again. He has radically changed his appearance once more. Brother Adam almost missed him. His hair is white blond and he’s taken to dressing in leather and ripped denim. He is tracking another Slayer, this one located in New York. Her name is Nicholette Wood, that much we have discovered but not much else, other than the fact she has been the Slayer for five years now. We have also discovered his true name. It is William. The Council of Watchers calls him the Slayer of Slayers. By my own hand, this 18th day of August, 1977, Gerald, Prior.
Dawn stopped breathing.
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