ONE NORMAL LIFE CH. 146 - 150 SPIKEALICIOUS.COM

CHAPTER 146 - WALKING ON EGGSHELLS

AUGUST 13, 2009

WEDNESDAY

4:30AM

Shivering, Buffy awoke on the couch. The summer’s early morning birds were starting to sing, as she dragged herself up.

Going through the spare room, she used the restroom, then went into their room. Still shivering, she pulled on a warm nightgown and got into bed.

William’s back was to her, and she although she longed to wrap her body around his, she settled for putting her hand lightly on his back, and lying as close to him as possible. Soon she fell into a restless sleep, as the sky outside began to lighten for the coming day.

5:30AM

Still asleep, William turned over. His arm, automatically going around Buffy, who responded, by snuggling closer. He rubbed her back, and her legs entwined with his. It wasn’t until she made a tiny whimper in her sleep, that he was brought out of his, and back to the present.

His eyes flew open, and the fact that one of them was taped over, immediately clued him into the recent events. He looked cautiously at Elizabeth. Her face, usually so peaceful, that his heart would swell just to lie there and look upon it; now seemed anything but those things. Disturbed looking even as she slept, her face mirrored his own. He shied away, untangling himself from her. Frustrated, he reached up to his own face, and pulled the tape off of his eye.

Using the inside of the gauze, he carefully wiped around his eye, then opened it. It hurt some, but not terribly so. He reached over to the bedside table, feeling around for the small bottle of eye drops. He managed to get it open and put a drop into his eye, then closed it for a few minutes. That done, he got up.

Once in the bathroom, he started to reach for the light, but stopped, instead opening up the blind just a couple of inches, in order to let in some light. Steering himself, he looked into the mirror. His unshaven, bruised, and scratched face stared back at him, but didn’t quite shock him like it had yesterday. His left eye was bloodshot, but at least he could see clearly out of it. As he traced the scratch that went from his forehead to his cheek, his hand started to shake, as he tried in vain, not to remember the woman, or thing, which had given it to him.

He washed his hands and face, brushed his teeth for the first time in a day, and avoided looking in the mirror any more.

Looking towards the shower, he promised himself he’d try to take one later, when he got a bit more energy back.

Back in the bedroom, he found the suitcase on the floor, which he’d packed, and rifled through it, until he had found what he wanted. Shoes in one hand, and clothes over his arm, he took them into the living room. Still weak, he sat on the couch and dressed, taking care to avoid looking at his bruises, as he did so.

William walked out to the kitchen, and put on kettle of water for some tea. While it was heating, he found some bread and jam in the refrigerator, and went about making himself some toast. He poured the hot water over his tea bag, and took it and his plate of toast to the table. Purposefully mindless of the fact that he was eating alone, he concentrated on filling up his stomach, which was grumbling with hunger. He had just about finished, when he looked up and happened to see the pan. Suddenly, he remembered himself grabbing it, and slamming it into the mad woman’s head, in order to flee from her the other night.

Choking on his toast, he leapt up, as the memories of her words started echoing in his head; "You’re mine, William. You always have been mine, and no slayer whore is going to change that. No hideous soul will either; I’ll take care of that, by the end of the night. Good-bye soul, hello my old lover Spike. You remember how we used to kill every night for 100 years, don’t you?"

"No!" he said, partially knocking over his chair as he staggered to the back porch.

And still the words came."You want to know what I am? I’m the same as you were!" she had said to him, before her face had changed into a hideous countenance, right before his eyes.

"It’s not true!" he gasped, as he stumbled out the back door, squinting in the bright light, which hurt his injured eye.

"... the same as you were!"

"NO!" William gasped, as he started running towards the barn."I can smell your fear, just like you could smell the fear in all your previous victims, hear their heart beating, feel it stop as you took their last drop of blood; drained them dry, you did! You were such a hungry dog. You’d bring me presents, too. Nice, delectable children to eat."

"NO! NO! I’m not...I couldn’t have been...that!"

The barn was eerily quiet as he ran inside. His heart hammered in his chest, and his breath was coming in gasps, as he stopped at the bottom of the steps.

He put his hand on the rail to steady himself, as he took the first step.

"A body, there’s going to be a body of the crazy woman," he said to himself, as he slowly ascended the steps.

His eyes squinted, as he reached the top, and he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

"Where is it?" he asked, as he looked around the ruins of what used to be his and Elizabeth’s sparring space. Mats were knocked over, the pommel horse was on its side; exercise equipment and other things they stored were scattered about. Between them, he saw dark brown spots, which he guessed were his or Elizabeth’s blood, also a dark blue, almost turquoise stain, whose origin he didn’t want to admit to, or knowingly remember.

"Where are you, you ungodly thing?" he cursed, kicking at the fallen things in his way; bending over to toss mats aside, looking for her body.

He stopped abruptly, as he saw the reflection of light playing on a ray of dust particles, about 3 feet in area, which he seemed to have walked into. Looking around him, he saw that although the light shone on about an 8’ x 10’ area, the dust seemed concentrated only in one area.

Looking down, he suddenly saw that he was in front of the area where Elizabeth had been tied up. The sword he’d used lay there, on top of a pile of dust.

"Oh God!" he said, as he bent over and scooped up a handful of what were the remains of the woman, the thing he had slain, the thing which called itself, Drusilla. The thing that had told him he was...

He turned and fled down the steps, and out into the bright daylight, stopping only when he was outside the door. He doubled over, emptying the contents of the scant breakfast he had just eaten, onto the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6:30AM

"William?" Buffy’s worried voice sounded throughout the house. She had awaken a few minutes before, and found the bed empty, as was the rest of the house. She paused in the kitchen a moment, noticing the half-drank cup of tea, and a part of a piece of toast on the table. She walked out to the porch, and was relieved to see him sitting outside at the table.

"William?" she said, as she came outside.

He’d heard her calling him, while she was still inside, but he hadn’t responded.

She sat down across from him, and frowned as she saw him squinting, the makeshift eye-patch missing. "You took it off," she said.

He slowly looked up at her, blankly.

She pointed to his eye, and he nodded.

"You weren’t supposed to..." she started, then shrugged, stood up, and opened up the umbrella, adjusting it, so that the sun was now not shining in his face.

"Better?" she asked, sitting back down.

He looked up at her, and her heart shattered all over again, as she saw the pain and confusion in his eyes for a fraction of a second. He nodded finally, and looked away, "Yes. Thank you."

"William? I...I’ll be right back," Buffy said, getting up and going back to the house. She turned on the coffee for herself, and started the kettle going for another cup of tea. She popped in some more toast, and spooned out some applesauce. She also started a soft-boiled egg in the little plastic thing-a-ma-jig she’d bought for the microwave. She might not be able to deal with his pain at the moment; not until he was ready, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to take care of the rest of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, buddy, nice to see you up and about...whoa, whoa!" Clem had come around the house and had touched William lightly on the shoulder, as he started talking. William had jumped up and back, knocking over the plastic chair.

"Wh...what do you want?" William asked, backing away, towards the house.

"I just..." Clem looked at him, then down at himself. Yep, he was looking all human, but William was looking at him like he was still looking like a demon.

"...came by to see how you and Buffy were this morning."

"I’ll get her," William said, almost stumbling into her, as she carried a tray of food down the back steps.

"Hey, William, where are you going? I just made something for you to eat," she said, as he hurried past her.

"Not hungry. Sorry," he said, as she heard the doors to the porch and kitchen, slam shut.

She looked over at Clem, and shook her head sadly, "What happened?"

"I just came around the house and said hello. Well, I touched him on the shoulder first. I’m sorry, Buffy. I should’ve called first," he said, turning to leave.

"Clem, you know you don’t have to..."

"Yes I do, Buffy. Everything’s changed," he said, taking off at a run. Clem got as far as the woods, before his demon came forth. The man inside was hurt, but his demon was incensed. He grabbed a couple of saplings and tore them from the ground, as he angrily ran through the trail on the way home. His benign demon, morphing to his more menacing one, then back again, as the foliage took the brunt of his wrath and hurt.

By the time he emerged near his cabin, he was back to his benign appearance. No use to him looking human for now; "Darn it Spike! Gosh darn, darn it all!" he said, and wiped a tear from his eye.

He opened up his cell phone and pressed in a number he knew well, "Edvcar? It’s Clem, how about some poker?"

"Kitten?"

"Of course!"

"Bring ‘em on. Gonna take ‘em all," Edvcar said.

"See you in about an hour," Clem said. He packed up his car, then went down to the cellar, that only he knew existed. He opened up a small cage and took out the last of the kittens, from the litter he’d been hanging onto for the past couple of weeks. "Come on little guys, time to play some poker."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy walked back in the house, and found William in the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed.

"I think you hurt his feelings," she said.

He didn’t respond other than to give a sad little shrug, and a shake of his head.

Buffy waited for him to say something, but he didn’t, and she bit back all the things that came to her mind to say, as well.

"You should eat something. If you want it, it’s out there in the kitchen," she said, not offering to bring it to him. If he wanted to sit and pout, she wasn’t going to add to it by serving him in bed, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy had sulked around the house for the next hour or so, waiting to see if William would come out. Finally, she decided that she would just take him in something to eat and force-feed him if necessary. However, when she’d gone back in to check on him, she’d found he had fallen back asleep.

Clem had called to tell her he was on his way to San Diego for the day, and possibly longer. She had apologized for William, and Clem had accepted, but said he really needed to get away for a little while.

Dawn called around 9, to see how things had gone since last night. She said her and John had decided to drive up the coast for a couple of days. Maybe into Canada, if they got that far.

"Did you and John talk?" Buffy asked.

"We’re planning on it, during the trip."

"Ah, captive audience."

"More or less,’ said Dawn.

"What do you think he’s going to say?"

"I think he’s going to think that we’re all crazy."

"I hope not."

"Yeah, me too. So, how about you and William?"

"He’s not talking much at all now. He got up before me today, pulled off his the bandage over his eye, got dressed, made some tea. He was outside when I got up. Then Clem came by and William freaked out. Poor Clem, he took off. Now he’s on his way to San Diego for who knows how long."

"Maybe I shouldn’t go."

"Why not?"

"Seems like we’re all abandoning you."

"No, Dawn, it doesn’t. Just going on with life, which is what everyone should be doing."

"And what about you and William?"

"That’s a good question."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy had fallen asleep on the couch, when she heard the phone ring. She looked at the clock; it was close to noon.

"Hello?"

"Buffy, it’s Giles."

"Giles..." she said, holding the phone close, as she started to get choked up.

"Buffy, how are you? How’s William."

"I’m fine," she said, taking the phone with her out the back door, "William...he’s not doing so good. I mean, physically he’s better, but he’s...I don’t know exactly. He’s not talking much at all; he’s got a major case of ‘withdrawal’ right now, from the world, from me. I don’t know, I just don’t know..." she said, her voice trailing off.

"I’m was so sorry to hear what happened to you and William. I wanted to call you since yesterday, but I figured you had your hands full. Plus, I knew that John and Dawn were there.’

"Yeah, they were there until after 9 last night."

"I see."

"It was a good thing John had some medical background," she said, and told him about William’s injuries.

"I suppose Willow told you what happened with the coven, as well?" Giles asked.

"Yeah," Buffy said softly, "she told me about the attack. She said 3 members died, and more than that were hurt."

"It was a very close call, actually. Willow and the ones that survived are very lucky to be alive. The Hoarashb demons that were summoned are quite a vicious variety; hard to kill, as well. Then there were the Rwasundi, which made it near impossible for the remainder of them to find their way to the cellar, in order to thwart the attack at all."

"Yes, I’ve had the un-pleasure of meeting up with those guys."

"The Hoarashb?"

"No, the others; after you’d returned to England. Warren summoned them."

"What’s got me thinking Buffy, is this; Angel is behind this, we know that much. And although I can’t imagine what he’s playing at, we do know that he’s obviously acting out of jealousy, malice, or evil; we just don’t know which."

"Well yeah, or all of the above, I don’t really care why; he needs to be dealt with! I’ve had it..."

"My point," Giles said, interrupting, "is that I don’t think Angel was acting under the auspices of Wolfram & Hart. Why would they, who are responsible for the amulet, given to you by Angel, and used by Spike in order to save the world, now want him dead?"

"I don’t know, Giles. Angel thought he was going to be the one to use it, I suppose that Wolfram & Hart did, too. Maybe they had some sort of plans for Angel to Shanshu, but instead Spike did, and now...hell, I don’t know. Oh God, Giles. All I know is that they’re trying to kill him now."

"I have to disagree. I don’t know if there were any plans for Angel to Shanshu. More likely, they wanted him dead, if you ask me," Giles said.

"Then why make him the C.E.O.?"

"Maybe that wasn’t suppose to really be a long term thing, just something to rein him in, as he was fighting against them. Once, The First needed to be dealt with, and they had a perfect way to rid themselves of Angel, once and for all. They knew he would offer to stay to help you, given your history."

"But they didn’t count on me refusing," Buffy said, thinking, then shook her head. "Still, what’s the point of all this? An intellectual exercise? Because to tell you the truth Giles, I have a hell of a lot more pressing issues to worry about than Wolfram & Hart’s ulterior motives, at the moment," Buffy said, rather harshly.

"My point, is that if Angel acted alone, he had to have had the help of a very powerful summoner; a sorcerer if you will, in order to summon demons of the Hoarashb caliber. In my experience, there aren’t not many of those around."

"I’ll leave the figuring out of that stuff to you, Giles. I’ve got to worry about William for now."

"Of course, Buffy. I realize that Spike is your first priority."

"William," Buffy corrected.

"William," Giles repeated. "Um...tell me, did William recognize Drusilla?"

"No, I don’t think so, he...he didn’t know what hit him. It was horrible for him, Giles. It still is horrible for him."

"He knows then?"

"I don’t know, I mean, things were said, Dru was ranting on in her crazy fashion, and I even said some things to her, which would...oh God..."

"Buffy?"

"Things about how he could never kill me anyway, when he was...It was when she was threatening to turn him, and let me be his first meal. I told her that he never could hurt me, even when he tried to before. I said all these horrible things..."

"You did what you had to in order to deflect her from him. I know you Buffy, don’t beat yourself up over what you had to do."

"You were right, Giles."

"About what?" he said, softly.

"About me telling him. You were all right."

"Well, if you expect me to gloat or tell you that, ‘I told you so,’ you won’t get that from me. You did what you thought was best for both of you. It wouldn’t have changed what happened."

"No, but...he wouldn’t be in shock now, wouldn’t be withdrawn, wouldn’t have not known how to fight her."

"But he did kill her?"

"Yes."

"Then I’d say he figured it out quite nicely."

"Clem told him to go for the head."

"Doesn’t matter, he took her out, to save you and himself. He should be quite proud of himself."

"I don’t think he’s thinking in those terms right now."

"No, I don’t suppose so. Eventually though, he will, Buffy. He’ll be proud to know that he defeated evil when it showed its face."

She didn’t answer.

"And Buffy?"

"Yes, Giles?"

"Nothing," Giles said, deciding not to mention the fact that he had left his card for William. "I’ll talk to you soon."

"Okay. Let me know if you find out anything..."

"I will. Bye Buffy."

"Bye Giles."

Buffy was surprised when she went back into the house to see William in the kitchen.

"You’re up," she said. "Hungry?"

"Yes," he said, closing the door to the refrigerator, where he had been standing staring into it.

"Want me to fix you something?" she said, as she started to walk towards him.

He skirted along the counters, physically avoiding coming too close to her.

"That would be...nice. Yes, please."

"William..." Buffy said.

"I’ll be in...the living room. You’ll let me know when it’s done?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, softly. He looked at her and nodded once to her, then left the room.

He left the room and she let out a breath, she’d been unaware that she’d been holding. She fixed him a cheese and tomato sandwich, grilling it lightly, and a bowl of chicken and noodle soup.

"Hot or cold tea?" she called into the living room.

"Doesn’t matter," he called back after a few moments.

She made both.

"In here or out there?" she called.

"Here, I guess," William said. "Unless you want me to..."

She walked into the room, and set the food down on the table next to the couch. The television was on some sports game, though muted. He stared at it, though she didn’t think he was really following it.

Buffy stood there looking at him, after she set the food down, then handed him the plate.

"Oh, sorry. Thanks," he said, taking it from her, and taking a bite.

"Aren’t you eating?" he asked, as she walked off.

"Do you want me to eat with you?" she asked, feeling silly for the little pitter-patter her heart made from so simple a question.

"If you want, I just wanted to...you should eat, too. I mean, unless you already did."

"Oh," she said, disappointed, as she walked to the kitchen.

She slammed some cabinet door shut, out of frustration, and shuffled around the kitchen for a while, finally going back into the living room.

William didn’t say anything as she sat down on the end of the couch, just continued to eat and mindlessly watch the game.

She told herself that she would talk to him, either after the game ended, or whenever there seemed to be an opening.

Unfortunately, William told her he was going to go and shower before the opportunity presented itself.

"Oh, okay. I was thinking of doing that myself," she said.

"I’ll be quick," he said, "I won’t use up all the hot. Unless you want to take one first," he added.

She shook her head, and he nodded briefly to her, before disappearing inside the bedroom.

Staring at the door, she thought about the fact, that only a couple of days ago, he would’ve invited her to take one with him. Now, he was acting like...

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," she said to herself, "just give him some space, he’ll come around." Sure, and monkeys will fly out of my...

She cleaned up the plates and tried to make believe that she was being useful, somehow.

William had managed to get into the shower. He tried to avoid looking at his body, but it wasn’t altogether possible. His chest was covered in bruises, as were his upper thighs. What made him almost weak in the knees was seeing his privates all discolored. Even the water stung him, and he wished he’d had taken a soothing bath instead.

He put his hand up to his neck, and felt the tape. He could feel the gauze underneath was already wet, so figuring it was going to need changing, he carefully pulled it off.

He went about finishing the job of washing himself, and turned off the water.

As he was drying himself, he noticed red running pooling on the floor. He looked at himself, and saw blood running down his chest. Putting his hand to his neck, he felt the still open rawness of the wound. Slowly, he looked into the mirror, and the image made him sick to his stomach. Inadvertently, he cried out.

Buffy had just remembered about the bandage, and had come to warn him not to remove it, when she heard him cry out. Opening the bathroom door, she found him standing against the towel rack, his hand to his neck, blood dripping down.

"It’s okay," she said, quickly running cold water onto a washcloth. She pried his fingers away from his neck, and applied gentle pressure, "I should have remembered to tell you not to shower yet, or not to remove the bandage. I’m so sorry."

He stood there half in shock, and shamed, as she stood there holding the washcloth for him.

"Here, sit down," she said, worried that he might pass out. She put a towel on the lid of the toilet seat. "Can you hold this by yourself?" she asked.

He nodded and she went to the sink, and ran water warm over another washcloth. Then kneeling down, she gently washed the blood off of him.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice breaking.

She put her hand to his face, and made him look at her, "You listen to me William, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong."

"Didn’t I?" he asked, as the tears rolled down his cheeks silently.

She shook her head, as her own tears fell. She turned and reached into the medicine cabinet to get out some clean gauze and tape, then gently applied the clean gauze and tape to his wound.

"Elizabeth?" he said, his fingers coming up to touch her neck, where her bandage had been only yesterday.

"It’s better, I don’t think it was as bad as yours," she said, remembering she had removed hers this morning. "I’m a fast healer."

She got up and started out of the bathroom.

"I’m glad," he said, softly.

She nodded without turning, then walked out.

END CHAPTER 146

CHAPTER 147 - DREAMS & NIGHTMARES

William stayed in the bedroom afterwards, either sleeping or just staring off into space, alone and withdrawn.

Buffy didn’t try to persuade him otherwise, just brought him food and drinks. She even brought him a couple of poetry books he had, and a magazine he’d recently bought, in case he wanted something other than what was pressing in on him, to occupy his mind with for a while.

The books and magazines remained where she’d laid them.

Dawn had called again in the late afternoon to tell Buffy that she and John were leaving for Big Sur in a little while. They thought they might stay there for a few days, before continuing up the coast.

Keyed up with tension, Buffy jumped, every time she heard the bed squeak, thinking William was going to come out to the living room. Anticipating that either he would finally ask, or she would finally start the conversation that would once and for all, get all the secrets she’d been keeping, out into the open.

But he didn’t come out, and she only went in to check on him. And the holding pattern still held.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10:00PM

Evening came and went. An hour ago, she’d checked on William, and finding him asleep, she’d turned off the bedroom lights and returned to the living room, hoping to find something to take her mind off her uneasiness.

Finally, Buffy decided to just call it a night. Quietly, she put on her nightgown and crawled into bed, mindful of not disturbing him. Once again, she let only her hand lightly touch William’s back, reassuring herself, that some part of him was still with her; connected to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUGUST 14, 2009

THURSDAY

JUST PAST MIDNIGHT

Dreams plagued William's sleep, as images of things he didn't want to know or remember played in his head. Various scenes of blood, lust, death. Of him, involved in each one.

And her words there, echoing in his head.

Her words, his truth.

What he'd been.

...evil

disgusting

dead thing...

"No," he moaned out in his sleep. Turning over, he put his arms around Elizabeth, and drawing her in close to him, "I'm a man," he mumbled.

Buffy responded, and wrapped her arm around his neck, molding herself to him. Even in slumber she'd missed him, her body needing its match, her heart and soul, its other half.

He hugged her tighter still; his face burrowed in the warmth of her neck.

"William," Buffy moaned in her sleep stirring a bit. Half from the happiness of his embrace, half uncomfortably from the tightness of his grip, pressing into a recent bruise on her back.

And still the words and images came.

..... it wouldn't be you, Spike

it would never be you

money fluttering to the ground

you're beneath me.....

In his sleep, recent and past sorrows crystallized together in an impotent rage.

In their bed, William hugged Elizabeth even tighter, relentlessly.

"William?" Buffy said, awakening to being squeezed too tightly. Her slayer senses also awakening, in response to his innner turmoil, even as her body responded with pleasure at being so close to his.

Getting no response, Buffy pushed hard against him to jar him into awareness. Her slayer senses now on full alert, as she sensed his torment, his anger, heard the growl deep in his chest, and the feel of his blunt teeth against her neck.

"William," she called again, to no avail.

She was frightened, not for herself, but for him.

"William! " she yelled.

"Stop! Spike!"

Suddenly, William’s eyes flew open, and they stared at each other in shock.

"No, oh God, no!" he cried out, horrified, scrambling away from her to the furthest side of the bed, hitting the bedside table as he did so.

"William," she said, reaching out to him.

"Don’t touch me!" he yelled at her, jumping up from the bed.

"Please, William," she pleaded, standing up as well, "it’s alright, it was only a nightmare."

He laughed harshly, "It’s all a bleedin’ nightmare, isn’t it?"

END CHAPTER 147

Next chapter - THE TALK!!!

CHAPTER 148 - THE ELEPHANT FALLS

Buffy followed him into the living room. He stood staring out the window, the muscles in his back trembling slightly.

"William..." she said, in a quiet voice, filled with her own pain, as she neared him.

"Who am I, Elizabeth?" he asked, his voice strained and so quiet she barely heard him.

She stopped her advance, and inhaled deeply, "You’re William Worthington, a nearly 29 year old man; the man that I love. That’s who you are."

He snorted softly, he turned to her, looking her in his eyes, locking her there, "And him? What about Spike, then? Who or what was he?"

Her mouth trembled, as she searched for the right words that he could understand.

"Tell me!" he said, walking up to her and grabbing her roughly by the arms.

"William...maybe you should sit down..."

"I don’t bleedin’ want to sit down!" he yelled at her. "Tell me!"

"You," she began, her mouth dry, "that is...when you went by Spike, you were a... She turned you...Dru. You told me about it; she found you alone and upset one night, after a party you’d been attending. Some woman you cared for had rejected you. You were vulnerable, you..."

"Say it! Damn you! Say it!" he yelled, still gripping her arms tightly, even as she flinched at his words.

The moment she'd been dreading for over a year had finally arrived. She nodded briefly, as she looked into his eyes, so full of pain and anger. She took a deep breath, "You were a vampire, William," she said softly.

Time seemed to stand still then, as she watched his face reflect everything at once; disbelief, fear, anger, betrayal, horror, and everything in between.

His hands let go of her, as he stumbled backwards, shaking his head, "No, no, no, no, no, no...not possible, not possible..." he mumbled as he blindly paced the living room.

"I’m so sorry, William," Buffy said, as tears filled her eyes.

He didn’t seem to hear her, as he continued talking to himself, laughing, cursing even, as he paced around the room.

Buffy stood frozen to her spot, as she watched him. Finally, after a few minutes, he stopped in front of her.

"How long?" he asked.

"How long?"

"How long was I...was he...?"

"A vampire?"

He nodded, wide eyed.

"Over 120 years. From 1880 until 2003."

His face grew paler than it already was, and he staggered away from her, almost falling. She reached out to grab his arm, but he violently shook it off, "Get away!" he said, in a raspy voice.

"Please, William! You have to listen to me; there’s so much to tell you...so much..."

"You knew...all this time, you knew," he said, turning to her. "How could you not tell me? How could you...let me believe that I was...," he looked down at himself, gesturing, then towards her, them, and everything in the room. "How could you let me believe that I was a...man?"

"Oh, God William! You are a man!"

He went on, not listening; "All this time...all the memories I had of my life before, how I lived, old things, the not remembering..." he turned to her, accusingly. "You let me believe that it was memory loss, some sort of mental condition!"

Buffy shook her head, as the tears streamed down her face, "I wanted to...I was so happy, so overjoyed to find out that you were alive. Then, when I first came to see you at the hospital, you were so confused, and scared. You didn’t remember anything, not even me. How could I lay that at your feet? Then with what happened to you there. I didn’t mean to lie to you, I just didn’t want to hurt you...you’d already suffered enough. I just wanted you to be happy," she said in a small voice, "I love you."

Suddenly he grimaced in pain, "My mother, what happened to her? To my brother?"

Buffy looked at him and shook her head.

"Tell me!"

"You’re not going to like it..."

"Tell me!"

"You told me how your mom was already sick with consumption, that it was likely going to kill her. After Dru sired you..."

"Sired?"

"Um...yeah, that’s the term when a vampire turns a human into a vampire."

"How?"

"Instead of killing a human outright, a vampire drains their victim nearly to death, then offers them a drink of their blood. I’m guessing that at that point, most people would do almost anything to stay alive, not knowing the consequences... Afterwards, the person’s body dies, once it’s drunk enough demon blood. The one that did the siring, buries it, then within the next night or two, the new vampire rises, looking for it’s own meal."

"Undead," William said, looking at Buffy for confirmation.

"Yes."

He shuddered, looking small and frail in his pajamas, "Tell me," he said again.

"After you became a vampire...you still loved you mom," Buffy said. "You wanted to save her from dying from consumption..."

"It’s true then? What that thing...Dru told me? I sired her? Oh God," he said, reeling away.

"William," Buffy said, reaching out to grab him, but he shook her off.

"She changed," Buffy said quietly, "once she became the demon, she wasn’t the same person you knew...and you couldn’t stand to see her like that, to know that you’d done that to her, so you...you staked her."

"Oh God, no..." William said, as he backed into the wall by the desk, slipping down to the floor. He held his head in his hands, knees drawn up. "I killed my mother, I killed my own mother! Oh God," he said, pulling at his hair.

"I’m so sorry," Buffy said, kneeling down in front of him.

He looked up at her, and the pain in his eyes was unlike any she’d ever seen. She reached out and put her arms around him. He tried to resist, but she held fast. "I’m so very sorry," she said, holding on, as he fell apart.

"What about Henry? My brother?" he said, his eyes downcast.

She didn’t answer right away, not until he looked up. He could see the answer in her eyes.

"How?"

"I don’t know the details, just that you killed him soon after you were sired."

"Did my...did my mum know of that...before I...sired her?"

"I don’t think so, William. You never said, so I don’t think so. I think that it all happened within a couple of days, when you were a fledgling, still."

"A fledgling?"

"A new vamp, a young vampire."

"Oh God, oh God," he repeated again and again, as he rocked himself.

"It’s going to be alright, I promise you," Buffy said, holding onto him, rubbing his back.

His voice cracked like old plaster, as he pushed her back onto her bottom, "How can it be alright? Don’t you realize what this means? What I’ve done? How the hell can it be alright? I’ve..." he looked at her, shaking his head, "I’ve killed people! People I loved, family! My own mother and brother! God, how can it ever be alright?"

"I know you have," she said quietly, "remember William, I knew you as Spike. I knew you when you...when the demon inside ruled. But I also saw you change, saw you try to become a better man. You did, William. You did. You always had some of William inside you, even before you went to get your soul back..."

"My soul?"

Buffy looked at him and nodded. "Yes, your soul."

He looked at her, confused, "Where was it? Where did my soul go?" he asked, looking like a little lost boy.

She shook her head, "I don’t know. Only that you, well, all vampires lose their souls when they become vampires. That’s why the demon is able to kill without remorse, or feeling. But I think you were always different. Even before you got your soul back, you did good things. For me, for my friends, you even took care of Dawn after I died."

"Died? You died? Were you a...?" he said, then it clicked, "What were you, Elizabeth?"

She took a breath, "I was a vampire slayer. The vampire slayer. Technically, I still am a slayer, only now there’re hundreds, maybe thousands more...but that’s another story."

"Then that’s true, too? I killed...oh God!"

She nodded, "Yes, you killed two slayers. One during the Boxer Rebellion in China, around the beginning of the 1900’s, and another one in New York in the 1970’s."

He looked at her; "Did I want to kill you, then?"

She nodded again, with a small smile, "At first. Before you fell in love with me."

He shook his head, "And you...why didn’t you kill me, then?"

Buffy shrugged, "I tried to, but then you got the chip put in your brain, and it didn’t seem very fair, since you could no longer hurt humans..."

"Chip?" he asked, his head spinning.

"There was a secret government operation. They captured demons and studied them. Well, some they studied...with vampires, they put chips into their brains. If they...you tried to hurt a human, it fired, and you’d get a huge headache. Actually, much, much more than a headache," she said, remembering the intense, searing pain he’d suffered before it had finally been removed.

"Why? Why would they bother to do that? Why not just kill it, kill the vampires? Me?"

Buffy looked at him and shook her head, "I don’t know the answer, it’s the government, you know? Maybe they thought they could harness a vampire’s strength; use them for their own killing machines," she said.

Over the next two hours Buffy told him about how he’d let Glory torture him, rather than give Dawn up, and how he tried to protect Dawn from Glory at the end; how she’d had to die in order to close the hell dimension, which had opened with Dawn’s blood.

"You looked after Dawn, even after I died," she said. "Even before you got your soul back, you stayed in her life to protect her, and you fought alongside my friends against evil."

He shattered even more, when he found out about Dawn. He’d felt immediately drawn to her, since he’d ‘met’ her again. He felt a sense of closeness and protectiveness over Dawn, matched only by what he felt for Elizabeth.

Buffy wearily looked up at the clock, it was now past 4:00am, and she’d been talking for over 3 hours. A couple of times, she thought that William had fallen asleep, leaning up against the wall, or she’d nod off, leaning up against the couch. But then he’d jerk awake to ask more questions, demand more answers.

"I can’t tell you everything in one night," she'd pleaded, but he wouldn’t relent.

"Why am I alive; human now?" he asked.

She told him about the Shanshu prophecy, and the fight against The First. Without telling him how she came by it, she told him how he’d worn the amulet into the Hellmouth, and how monumentally important that had been; his role in the ultimate fight against evil.

"It was you who saved the world, by killing all the ubervamps, and by closing the Hellmouth. It was the power of the amulet, activated by the goodness and light in your soul, William," she said, nodding her head. "I felt it. Moments before the end, I held your hand, and I felt your soul enter mine, before you sent me away. To save me, to live. You said I had to live for both of us. That connected us forever, William, do you understand?" she asked, as he shook his head.

She crawled over to him, and grabbed his hand, and interlacing her fingers with his. Like then, her fingers urged his own, to close around hers. He wouldn't, only looked down at their hands, then back to her.

"Tell me how I got my soul back," he said, pulling his hand away.

"It’s not just that you got it back, William, but that as far as anybody knows, you’re the only vampire in history, to have ever voluntarily done so," she answered, retreating back to her spot in front of the couch.

"You mean there were others, who got their souls back?"

"Only one, that I know of, and his was a curse. He’d killed the daughter of a Gypsy, who then cursed his soul back into him; but that’s another story, another vampire. As for you...you went to the other side of the world to seek out a legend, you told me. Africa, I believe. There, you had to endure trials and torture, and when you’d prevailed, the demon or whatever it was, returned your soul to you."

"Why? Why did I do it?"

"You said you did it in order to give me what I deserved, because I couldn’t, I didn’t trust you without it," she said, her voice barely perceptible. "Maybe I should’ve tried harder...

He looked at her, "Why? Why would you have? How could you have even...?"

"It’s late," she said, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the couch."

He snorted, "Been late for a long time," he answered. "Too late," he added bitterly, glancing up at her.

"Please," she said, shivering from his words, as much as the chill in the room, "please don’t say that."

"Why not? Did you think that we were just going to go on like before? Me being blind to the truth, and you letting me? The happy couple?" he asked, in a voice hoarse from crying, lack of sleep, and thirst.

She sniffed back her own tears, "I don’t know. All I know is that we’ll get through this; I swear it! It’s you and it’s me, we’ll get through it."

He looked at her and shook his head sadly, "Never."

END CHAPTER 148

CHAPTER 149 - ABSURD ICE CREAM

"I don’t accept that. I’m sorry, I just won’t accept that!"

Angrily, she rose from her spot on the floor and went into the kitchen.

William could hear her banging the kettle on the stove, the slamming of cupboard doors, a glass shattering as it hit the floor, and the back door as it opened and slammed shut. Then all was quiet.

He drew up his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. His whole body shook, as he wept for everything he’d lost, and everything that he’d ever believed in.

Exhausted and beside herself, Buffy had run out into the back without any thought as to what she would do next. She hadn’t felt pain like this since Spike had died closing the Hellmouth. This was like losing him all over again.

"Please, no, please," she said to no god in particular and every god in general. "Please, there’s got to be a way, please, please...please," she said, finally collapsing into a lawn chair.

She pulled her knees up, put her head on them, and wept bitter tears over everything that was lost to them, and everything that she’d believed in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUGUST 14, 2009

THURSDAY

6:45AM

Buffy awoke with a start, and looked up to see a squirrel staring down at her, from his early morning perch.

"What are you looking at?" she asked him, making a face. In response, he dropped an acorn he’d been holding, which plinged her on the arm.

"Figures," she said, stiffly getting up.

She made her way back into the house, and went directly to the living room. She was relieved to see that William had fallen asleep, albeit sitting up, leaning against the desk.

He startled awake, moaning, as he tried to sit up straight.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you..."

"Didn’t," he said, looking up at her with all the pain that had been there before.

She inhaled sharply.

"Willow's a witch?" he asked, picking up from the previous night’s questions.

"Yes. You listen to me, William. If you want me to answer any more questions, you’ll have something to eat and drink for me first, understood?"

He harrumphed at her.

"Yeah, I forgot. Got to feed your pity project."

"What?" she asked.

"Your pity project. That’s what I am, aren’t I? Some poor bloke who’s from another world, until Elizabeth, his savior comes to the rescue? Teach him everything, make like he’s a normal...man!" he spat the last word.

Buffy drew herself upright, staring back at him angrily; "I have never pitied you or thought you were some sort of project. God knows, I don’t need to pity you now, William. You’ve got enough self-pity to fill the whole damned Hellmouth twice over," she said, turning on her heels, and stalking out towards the kitchen.

He pulled himself up, using the desk as leverage, "Pity? I’m pitying myself?" he yelled after her. "Why, because I’ve been lied to for over a year? Or maybe because I was a cold-blooded, murdering vampire for over 100! Oh wait, I forgot, monsters don’t pity themselves do they?"

"You did," she yelled back. "You were good at that as Spike!"

"Bloody....hell!" he yelled, taking his frustration out on the first thing that he saw.

Buffy heard the loud crash. Slowly she walked back into the living room. Looking down, she saw the broken remains of the pot they’d bought in Mesa Verde, scattered on the floor all around him.

She looked at him, angry tears running down her face.

William’s own anger turned to chagrin, "I’m sorry," he said, hoarsely.

Buffy just shook her head, and headed back into the kitchen. William hesitated, then followed.

"Elizabeth...I’m sorry, I..." he shook his head, then collapsed into the nearest chair, resting his head on his hands.

She brought him over a cup of tea, and a piece of toast, hesitating for a moment, her hand near his hair, before withdrawing. She sat down opposite him, her own cup of tea in front of her.

"You should have something," she said quietly.

"You, too," he responded.

She nodded and they ate and drank in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After breakfast, William took the dustpan into the living room and cleaned up the remains of the pot, while Buffy swept up the broken glass from the kitchen floor.

He looked at her apologetically for a moment, before dumping the broken pieces of the pot, into the garbage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

8:00AM

"I’m going to take a shower," she told William, after they had cleaned up the broken messes. "We can talk more then. If you want."

He didn’t reply, as he stood in front of the refrigerator.

Buffy stood under the warm spray and once more, the tears came unbidden.

She toweled off quickly, and got dressed. Looking in the mirror, her red and swollen eyes, guiltily stared back at her. She hurriedly looked away.

William was still standing in front of the refrigerator staring at it, when Buffy came back out to the kitchen. She’d thought he was going to get himself something else to eat, when she’d left the room a half-hour earlier.

"What are you doing?" she asked walking up to him. "Oh," she said looking at the latest picture that Alex had emailed to William. It looked like a little robot and two bigger robots. They were standing on a boat and the little robot had a big fish on his fishing pole. It said, "I caught a fish," and "I love you." It was signed, "Alex."

"They all know, don’t they?" William asked, softly. "All of them, our friends. YOUR friends."

"They’re your friends too, William. They all care for you, don’t you know that?"

"They all knew," he said, tonelessly.

"Xander, Willow, and Dawn. And Giles. That’s all. Not Xander’s wife, or John. But Dawn is telling him, because...well, he saw...your neck wounds, and mine. And because Dawn also doesn’t want to keep secrets from him..."

"Not like some people, eh?" William asked, his voice bitter.

"Don’t,’ she said, turning away.

"Why not? Not like there’s any reason to be polite anymore, is there, luv?"

Buffy turned back towards him; "How about the fact that I love you so much, that this is killing me? I just didn’t want you to be hurt by all this. You were happy. We were happy, I just didn’t..."

"Didn’t what?" he asked, coming towards her. "Didn’t want the truth to burst your bubble? The little pretend world you constructed with me as hapless sap in it?"

"Stop it!" she yelled, "You weren’t a sap! I never thought of you as a sap! For God’s sake, William!"

"You were happy?"

"Yes!" she yelled, as she backed up into the sink.

"To be living a lie with me all this time?" he yelled back at her, inches from her face.

"Yes! It didn’t feel like a lie, it felt like us. Us! It felt...it feels more real than anything I’d ever felt before, like the way it’s supposed to feel when two people are in love do! It was real! It wasn’t a lie! It’s not a lie," she screamed into his face.

"You were happy living with an ex-vampire?" he yelled, ignoring her protests. "A killer? That’s your idea of happy?"

"Yes, I was happy with you; William. Ex-vampire, ex-killer, ex-asshole. No, I take that back, not ex-asshole! Current asshole! Yes!"

His eyes widened, then narrowed as he snorted, then nodded curtly at her, "Well, it’s not my idea of happy," he said coldly, as he walked out of the kitchen.

Buffy slid down to the floor in front of the sink, as soon as he walked out, her breath coming fast, along with her heartbeat. She felt like she was in the middle of some nightmare she just couldn’t wake up from, try as she might, it just kept coming - shock after shock. Except this was no nightmare...at least, not the sleeping kind.

She put her hand up to her face, and was surprised to find it wet; she hadn’t even been aware that she’d started to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

William had stormed out of the kitchen and was now pacing the living room. His righteous anger and seething resentment on his emotional roller coaster, had dissipated almost as soon as he’d left the room, and was now being replaced by the flip side; guilt and despair, as he heard the sounds of her muffled crying a few minutes later.

Try as he might, he still couldn’t stand to see or hear her cry. No matter what, her pain seared him more than his own, especially to know that he’d been the cause of it.

Who was he kidding? He’d never been so happy in his whole, miserable, alive existence, as he had this past year. Surely not in his whole undead one, either he’d wager. But that didn’t change the things that couldn’t be changed, and it no longer seemed like enough.

William took a deep breath, and returned to the kitchen. She was sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up, hugging them to herself, as she cried.

He knelt down in front of her, "I’m a right bastard, aren’t I?’ he said softly.

Her tear-streaked face came up as she looked at him. He looked down, away from the anger and hurt in them. Away from the love, he didn’t deserve.

"I’m sorry, Elizabeth," he mumbled.

"Asshole," she said sniffling, and punched him lightly in the chest.

He looked up at her sadly and nodded.

"William," she whispered, voice hitching. He couldn’t stand it any longer; he grabbed her fiercely, pulling her onto his lap.

"Don’t, please don’t cry," he said, as she hung onto him. His own tears flowed as he felt relief to be holding her, but guilt, knowing that he never should be touching her again. Not now. Not after what he knew about himself.

"I’m sorry, I can’t," he said, pushing her back and off of him, "I just can’t."

"You can’t what? Let me touch you? Hug me?"

"Yes, I mean, no. I mean...I just can’t do this!" he said, getting up off the floor. "I’m sorry," he said, looking over at her, as he walked out the back door.

Buffy pulled herself up and stood looking towards the backdoor. And the nightmare just kept coming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy was just about to go after him, when she heard the phone ringing. With a nervous glance towards the door, she reluctantly went to find her phone.

"Hello?"

"Buffy? It’s Willow. How are things?"

Buffy let out a strangled laugh. "Really sucking, Willow. Really sucking!"

"I’m so sorry, Buffy. How’s William?"

"He knows," Buffy said quietly.

"How’s he taking it?"

"Not very well," she said quietly.

"I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"I don’t even know what to do for him, Willow. One minute he’s falling apart, and the next he’s furious."

"Just give him some time. Yourself, too. You’ll get through it; you both will."

"I hope so Willow, I really hope so."

They talked for a while longer, Willow telling her that she was going to be heading back for London the next morning.

Almost as soon as she put the phone down, it rang again.

"Hey, Elizabeth?"

"Yeah, who’s this?"

"It’s Leroy. Where are you guys? I called up to Fullers to ask them if you’d picked up the keys and they said you never arrived."

She rubbed her hand across her head, as she looked out the kitchen window to see if she could see William.

"I’m sorry I didn’t call you Leroy. Something came up suddenly, and we...we couldn’t make it."

"Everything alright?"

"Not exactly," Buffy said, as she walked to the bedroom to take a look out of the window there towards the barn.

"What happened?"

Buffy hesitated, not knowing if she should say anything, "We were attacked."

"Attacked? When? What happened? You get hurt?"

"It happened the day before we were to leave for Michigan. We were both attacked, but William’s injuries were the worst. They’re better now. At least physically."

She pulled open the drapes to the window in the bedroom, looking out towards the barn. She didn’t see him there either.

"They catch who did this? Because if they didn’t, I’m coming out to California and deal out some good old-fashioned Leroy justice, you hear me?"

She smiled wryly at that. "You remember what happened to him at the hospital? It was the same person behind it."

Buffy heard Leroy let out a low whistle. "Somebody sure got a grudge against William, don’t they? I don’t understand it, he seems like such a...well, I don’t know him much, but he seemed real nice, like he wouldn’t hurt a fly type of guy."

"I know," she said softly. She sat on the side of the bed, then lay down. She would only lie down for a minute, she told herself, as she hugged William’s pillow to her with her free hand.

"Something in his past, huh, Elizabeth?"

"Yeah."

On the other end, Leroy was scratching his head. "Well, maybe you could still come. Might do you all some good."

"I wish we could, Leroy. You have no idea how much I wish it, but it’s just impossible right now. I’m sorry to have bothered you with the cabin and everything."

"What are you talkin’ about? You didn’t bother me none, Elizabeth. I just hate to hear what’s happened to you. You decide to change your mind, you let me know, you hear? Or if there’s anything I can do for you?"

"Thanks, Leroy. I’ll let you know if I can think of anything. Thanks for everything."

"Didn’t do anything, girl. Wish that I could. You take care. William, too. You hear?"

"Okay. Bye Leroy."

"Bye, Elizabeth."

Buffy started to get up, but her body had different ideas. She told herself she would just close her eyes for a moment, then go outside to find William. He couldn’t have gone too far, his car was still there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

William hiked up the trail, stopping when he’d spotted ‘their tree,’ a moment of remorse washing over him, remembering how he’d told her he’d made a little step up or something, so that they could more easily...

That wasn’t to be anymore, though. Not now, he told himself. He found the path behind the tree and followed it to the overhang. He sat down on the rocks, looking out at the desert below.

Everything looked the same, but nothing was. He was different, his idea of who he was as a man, irrevocably altered forever. He’d been a killer of how many? Hundreds? Thousands? A vampire, a cold-blooded killer for 100 plus years.

"Why would you allow something so vile to exist in this world? Allow me to exist?" he said aloud, looking at the sky for answers.

He heard a sound from behind him, and startled. He rose, waiting for whatever or whoever it was to appear, but it was only a small animal that skittered from one side of the trail to another.

William let out a breath of relief. He was glad that it hadn’t been Clem, he would’ve felt quite vulnerable out there on the overlook, with no where to escape. Clem, another person who wasn’t what he, seemed.

Clem a demon, Willow a witch, Giles something to do with slayers, Dawn a former dimensional key for a hell god named Glory, but made up from the very essence of Elizabeth, making her more like a daughter, than sister. And lastly, Elizabeth, his lover, fiancée, savior...The Vampire Slayer, at least back then, ‘the’ one.

These thoughts roiled around in his head, as he made his way back on the small trail leading to the overlook. As he came up to ‘their tree,’ and he saw the heart he had once carved, anger washed over him. He smashed his fist into the tree with all his might.

The sudden shock crumpled him to the ground, tears coming to his eyes as his bloodied hand throbbed painfully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had started to thunder and rain, as William walked back to the cabin, cradling his wounded hand. He opened the back door, half expecting that Elizabeth would be there waiting for him, a worried look on her face, but he was alone in the kitchen. He figured she’d probably come in shortly, having heard him.

He walked over to the sink and ran cold water over his hand, using a nearby towel, to help loosen and remove the blood and dirt. He winced at the pain. He tried to flex his fingers and a searing pain made him grip the side of the sink with his right hand. Tears ran down his cheeks, as he fought for control.

Finally, when the pain had subsided a bit, he opened the freezer, getting out an icy gel pack they had. He went to the drawer, and pulled out the cloth thing that the gel pack went into. He tried to hold onto it with his left hand to slip the ice pack into, but as soon as his fingers felt the weight of the ice pack, he dropped it.

During this time, he was getting angrier and angrier about Elizabeth’s absence.

Moaning, he picked it up with his right hand, then held the cloth in his mouth, and using his right hand, finally slipped it into the opening. He managed to wrap it around his left hand, using his right, and his mouth.

He sniffled back his anger and pain, and went looking for Elizabeth. A couple of moments later, he found her asleep on the bed, still clutching his pillow.

Once more, his own anger and pain left him as he looked down at her. She was shivering in her sleep, and he could see the telltale traces of tears dried on her face and on the pillow.

His whole countenance softened as he used his good hand to pull the covers up around her. His hand moved towards her of its own accord, as he stood there fighting the urge to touch her, comfort her, love her... Gently, he lifted a couple of wisps of hair off of her face, and pushed them behind her ear. He stood there watching her for another couple of minutes, "I’m sorry," he whispered, before he left the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

9:00PM

Buffy startled awake, her heart pounding, "William," the first word out of her mouth, the first thought in her head. She stumbled out of bed in the pitch dark. As soon as she opened the bedroom door she made out his form, asleep on the couch. Gratefully, she breathed in a sigh of relief.

She walked over to him, and relief turned to concern, as she noticed his hand wrapped in the icepack.

"What happened to you?" she whispered.

He opened his eyes and moaned.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. What happened?"

William moaned again, as soon as he moved his hand, "Decided I ought to punch out a tree. Tree won," he said apologetically, his voice raspy from dryness.

She shook her head at him sadly. "I’m going to turn on this light, so I can take a better look, alright?"

He just nodded, as she found the switch. They stared at each other for a moment, before she gently took his hand and started to unwrap the icepack.

"Maybe you should sit up," she suggested. He did. He moaned as the wrap came off, and she could see why. His knuckles were all bloody and swollen black and blue. She’d known by the feel of the icepack, that it had warmed hours ago.

"Can you move your fingers?"

"Not without a lot of pain," he said, wincing as he tried.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, where 1 is nothing and 10 is the worst you’ve ever felt, how bad?"

"About a 9; or maybe an 8 and a half," he amended, not wanting to feel like a total ponce.

"I’ll be right back," she said. She went into the kitchen and found a bowl under the sink. She put cool water into it, and added a couple of ice cubes.

He sat on the couch, his hand throbbing in pain, but glad to have his mind off of everything else that had happened to him. At least physical pain had a way of demanding one’s 100% attention for a while.

Buffy came back into the living room. She pulled the coffee table closer to him, then put the bowl on top of a towel. "Here, soak your hand for a while, it might help bring some of the swelling down. I’ll bring you something to take for it, too."

"Not very comfortable," he said, leaning forward to reach the bowl.

"You could lay down and put your hand in it. Or sit on the floor. Or, I could put it on your lap..."

"Yeah, that one."

She bit her tongue, and did as he asked. "I’ll be back, in a minute."

"Elizabeth?"

She stopped, without looking back.

"Thank you, I’m...grateful..."

Buffy nodded, and quickly went into the kitchen. She wiped at her eyes, and banged open the cabinet, which held their pain relievers. She grabbed the bottle of Ibuprofen, then went about making them some simple sandwiches. Something that William could at least eat with one hand.

"Great Buffy, real nourishing," she chided herself. "Suppose it’s better than nothing, which is all we’ve had in the past 3 days practically.

He had his eyes closed, a grimace on his face when she returned.

"William?"

He opened his eyes and nodded, "I’m awake."

"How’s the hand?"

"Same, just frozen," he said, giving her a half grin, half shrug.

"I thought you’d better eat something before you take these," she said, holding out the bottle of pills, "not so good on an empty stomach.

He nodded, almost enthusiastically. She smiled and put the plate down so he could reach the sandwich with his right hand. She went out to the kitchen and poured him a glass of milk to go with it.

She felt grateful to be doing the normal stuff like taking care of him, feeding him; nothing heart wrenching, nothing related to slayers or vampires, just them. Two ‘normal,’ people.

"Yeah, right," she mumbled to herself.

Buffy walked back into the living room and handed him the milk. He took it from her and drank it in one gulp. The sandwich was already gone.

"You want another?"

He started to say yes, then stopped; "I don’t want to be a bother...more of one, that is."

"No bother," she said, happily.

She returned from the kitchen a few moments later with another sandwich, and another glass of milk.

"Better take those pills now," she said.

"Can you open the bottle for me?"

"Oh, sure." She poured out a few of them into her hand, then put them into his mouth. They stared into each other’s eyes as he swallowed them down with the milk, which she held for him, as well.

"Thank you. For still...caring enough to...about me," he said, looking down, embarrassed.

"Did you think I wouldn’t anymore?"

"Don’t deserve..."

"Stop it! If there was a memo somewhere that said that you didn’t deserve to be cared about or loved anymore, I surely missed it. I won’t give up on you, William; or on us. Please don’t give up on us, either. Or on me."

He slowly looked up at her, into the eyes and face that had been his salvation; "It’s not that easy. Not anymore; not like it was...so easy," he said, his eyes tearing up, then flashing anger. "How can it go from being the easiest thing in the world to...this?"

"I don’t know," Buffy answered evenly, her own eyes tearing, "It’s not easy. It won’t be easy; I know that, but you can’t give up. Please don’t give up on what we have. I..."

The phone rang, and they both were startled out of the moment.

"Better..." William said, sitting back and breaking contact with her.

"Yeah..." she got up off the couch and went to the bedroom to retrieve the phone.

"Hello?"

"Buffy? It’s Dawn, how are things?"

She walked out of the bedroom, "He knows." William looked at her, stiffening up.

"It’s Dawn," she said, shrugging. He looked back down at his hand in the water.

"All of it?"

"Yes. Even about you," Buffy said, as she took the phone out to the kitchen.

Dawn laughed, "Well, that’s two of them that now know."

"John?"

"Yep. Must say, he took it rather well."

"I’m so glad for you," Buffy said, letting out a breath. "He’s okay with it?"

"Seems to be. I told him yesterday, on our trip up to Big Sur. He woke me up last night, all excited. Seems he remembered that he once went to a fortuneteller; you know, one of those types that travel around with carnivals? Anyway, he went on a lark, a dare from one of his pals. He said it was the usual stuff; you’ll come into some wealth, you’ll meet someone, blah, blah, blah..."

"And just how does my little sister know the usual stuff?"

"So I’ve heard," Dawn said. "Anyway, like I was saying, it was all the usual stuff, until the end."

"Why, what happened at the end?"

"John said the fortuneteller got very adamant when she told him that he would hold ‘the key.’ John said at the time, he just thought it was a big joke. Either that or he’d find a cure for cancer or something. Now he said, it must’ve meant he would hold me. Isn’t that sweet?"

"It is, Dawn. That’s totally sweet. I can’t believe he doesn’t think we’re all just crazy."

"Well, he’s not totally discounting that, but he also told me some things about certain patients he’s had over the past couple of years. Sounds like some of those, at least the ones with existing mental conditions, that were called five years ago have been really whacked out about the whole slayer visions thing."

"Oh no," Buffy said. "That’s horrible."

"Yeah, it is. But at least now that John knows...well, maybe he can help them, if he runs into any more of them."

"He’s actually treated a slayer?"

"Now that he knows, he’s pretty sure about that. He says that there was one girl who had been there for years and years. Something bad happened to her when she was a child; something pretty traumatic from the way it sounds. Anyway, after years of being catatonic, all of a sudden she’s drawing pictures of vampires and slayers. At least that’s what John made it sound like. Not only that, but he told me, as much as he could in any case, that she was rambling on about the Boxer Rebellion in China, and about..." Dawn stopped suddenly.

"Dawn!?"

"Buffy you’re not going to like it. She was going on about William the Bloody."

"Oh God!"

"Yeah, that’s what I said."

"Did you tell John?"

"Yeah," Dawn answered softly, "I told him. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should or not. If it means anything, as shocked as he is about all that, about William being Spike or William the Bloody, he still likes William. He doesn’t hold any ill will towards him."

"I’m really glad about that, John is really an exceptional guy."

"Yeah, he is."

"What happened to that girl?"

"She escaped."

"Shit. A mentally unstable, brassed off slayer? Not of the good. How long ago?"

"About a year."

"Great. I should let Giles know about her, shouldn’t I? Maybe Wesley could put the word out on the street."

"That’s probably a good idea."

"Dawn, I hate to ask you, but could I talk to John. William banged up his hand."

"How?"

"He hit a tree with it."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Buffy said.

Buffy heard Dawn call out to John, then he took the phone.

"Buffy, what’s up? Dawn said William hit a tree?"

"Yep, that’s what he told me he did. He’s having a lot of pain. I don’t know if anything is broken or just sprained, or both."

"Well, you know what I’m going to tell you, right?"

"Take him to a doctor? Yeah, figured, but I don’t think he’ll agree. Especially not now, at this point, if you know what I mean."

She heard him sigh on the other end of the line. "Yeah, I got that. Okay, well, since I’m not there, you’re going to have to assess him for me. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Buffy said, walking back into the living room. "What do you need me to do?"

William looked up at her, questioningly.

"It’s John on the phone, he wants me to try to assess your injuries, so he can tell me what we need to do for your hand."

William nodded and lifted it out of the water. She took the bowl off his lap and he dried it on the towel that had been sitting underneath the bowl. He winced in pain, as he did.

"You there?"

"I’m here."

"Okay, I want you to take his hand, and I’m going to try to walk you through it," he said.

The verdict came back, that his index finger was probably dislocated, his middle finger, possibly broken, and the other two, just bruised, possibly sprained.

"Let me talk to him," John said.

"William, John wants to talk to you," she said, handing him the phone.

"Does he know?" William whispered.

She hesitated for a second, then answered, "Yes, but it doesn’t matter to him, and it shouldn’t matter to you right now, okay?" She put the phone closer.

William took it, "Hello?"

"William, I’m going to have to instruct Buffy on how to pull your index finger, so that it can pop back into place. It’s going to hurt like hell for a minute, but after that it’s going to feel 100% better. Almost immediately, in fact. I’m guessing, that finger is the one that hurts the most, am I right?"

"Yes, that’s right," William said, trying to move it. The one next to it didn’t move at all on it’s own.

"Your middle finger is probably broken if you can’t move it. After Buffy gets your other finger popped into place, it will probably still swell up, so I’m going to have her splint that one as well. The splints will help them heal, especially the broken one."

"Thank you, John," William said, rather stiffly.

"You’re welcome. Oh, and you’re probably going to want to take one of those anti-inflammatory pills I left you for your other injuries for about a week. If you run out just let me know, and I’ll write you prescription for some more. Just remember to eat something with them. Oh, and don’t take any more ibuprofen with the other pills, alright?"

"I won’t. Thanks," William said, handing the phone back to Buffy.

"He’s still talking to you," she said, handing it back.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you."

"I was just saying that I just myself found out about...well, everything, and I just wanted to tell you that I’m still your friend. I just wanted say that okay? You’re still our friend William, still my friend...I guess that’s all I wanted to say."

William didn’t say anything for a moment.

"William? Are you still there?"

"Um...yes. Thank you. Here’s Elizabeth," he said, handing her the phone.

"It’s me."

"Okay, let’s get started."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

11:00PM

John had been right. The pain was excruciating, as Elizabeth popped his index finger back into place, but it was amazing how the pain went right away afterwards. His two fingers were now splinted and taped together, which overall felt much better than they had in the bowl of ice water.

He’d finally gotten off the couch to use the bathroom, and wash himself up as best he could, with only one hand. He looked at himself in the mirror. Then down at his body. He was still bruised pretty badly, and now his favorite hand was out of commission for at least a few weeks.

"Just bloody brilliant," he said to his reflection. "Bloody perfect." He was growing rather fond of that word lately.

He came out into the bedroom, to find that Elizabeth was in the middle of changing. "I’m sorry," he said, looking away.

His apology stung her, even though she knew where it was coming from. She just shrugged, and turned her back on him as she pulled her nightgown over her head.

"Your pajamas are on the bed, if you want to change. I’ll be in the living room. Do you want some ice cream?"

He looked up at her. Ice cream; it seemed so absurd. A happy food, for happy times. Still, it was ice cream.

"Okay," he said, with a small smile.

She smiled back at him, gratefully. It was the first time she’d seen him smile in days.

He struggled to pull his bottoms on, but finally managed. He came out to the kitchen to find Elizabeth trying to tackle the very frozen dessert.

"What kind is it?"

"Peppermint. There’s chocolate, too. If you’d rather have that. Or both; you can have both."

"No, peppermint sounds...lovely."

She smiled at him and once more, tried to tackle the frozen demon.

"Microwave it," he suggested.

"Good idea," she said, leaning the carton over on its side and giving it 30 seconds.

The timer dinged, and she took it out, "Perfect," she said, opening up the flaps. "Just soft enough."

She spooned out the ice cream into two bowls; "Can you carry the spoons?"

He nodded as she handed them to him. He followed her out into the living room. Balancing the bowl on his lap, he managed to eat with his right hand.

"Good?"

He nodded.

Buffy took the bowls away, and washed them. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt a bit happy. William was talking a bit, eating ice cream; it was going to be alright.

When she was finished, she came back out to the living room. The lights were turned out, and he was lying under a blanket on the couch. His head lay on the pillows from the bedroom.

"William?"

"Yeah."

"Aren’t you coming to bed?"

"Um...I think I’m going to sleep out here tonight."

She stared at him in the dark. "Why?"

"My hand. Thought it would be best if I couldn’t turn over onto it."

"Oh...okay. Yeah, that’s probably best. I might even knock into it in my sleep."

She went over to the couch, and gave his right hand a little squeeze. "Good-night then."

"Good-night, Elizabeth," he said, closing his eyes.

She went into the bedroom and started to close the door, then decided to leave it open a bit. It felt strange and empty getting into the bed. His missing pillows made it all the more so. In all her years living there alone, his pillows had always been on the bed.

"Good-night, William," she called out in the dark.

"Good-night," he called back, a few moments later.

He tossed and turned on the couch for a long time, and could hear her doing the same. He thought he heard the muffled sounds of her crying at one point, and it tore him up inside. Himself, he cried silently.

Only when she finally heard the soft sounds of his snoring coming from the living room a couple of hours later, was Buffy able to drift off to sleep herself.

END CHAPTER 149

A/N Hope you liked the update. TBC And thanks for all the feedback. It's awesome!

CHAPTER 150 - THE COVEN & THE SENIOR PARTNERS

LOS ANGELES

AUGUST 14, 2009

10:00AM

"Come on Fluffy," said Bruce, as he chased the little Pekinese into the denser areas of the park, just outside the city. Every time he walked the dog, he hoped he wouldn’t run into one of his old school mates. Usually, some muscle-bound jock type, with a manly sized dog, as well.

"If I didn’t love your owner so much, and if I wasn’t having the best sex of my life, I wouldn’t be chasing after your ass, that’s for sure," he said, grunting, as he crashed through the brush.

Fluffy was digging at the foot of a small mound of earth, as Bruce caught up with him. He was just about to put him on his leash, when he saw the toe of a foot sticking up out of the dirt.

"Shit!" he said, as he pushed back some more dirt, only to uncover a leg attached to the foot.

Bruce high-tailed it out of the park, trying to decide what to do. He finally decided that here was no benefit to be had from coming into work late. Again. He went back to the apartment he shared with Jenny, dressed for work, then left. On the way to work, he stopped for a minute at a local convenience store, which had an outside phone, and anonymously notified the police about the body.

"What’s up?" asked Benny, his co-worker, when he arrived at the UPS loading dock a little while later.

"You wouldn’t believe me, if I told you," Bruce answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LONDON, ENGLAND

AUGUST 15, 2009

FRIDAY

1:00PM

Giles stood up as Willow entered his office, followed by Sabrina.

"Willow," he said, coming around the desk to give her a warm hug, "I'm glad you're back."

"Thanks, it's good to be back," she said.

"Sabrina, it's good to see you, too. I'm glad you're both okay."

"Thank you, Rupert," Sabrina said.

They stood awkwardly for a moment. Finally, Giles turned to Sabrina; "I know it was traumatic for you, but would you mind recounting your version about what happened the night the coven was attacked."

Sabrina shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, "I was up late that night because I couldn’t sleep. I was in the kitchen looking for something to eat, when the attack started. I got scared and ran out, and hid in the woods until it was all over with. That's about it," she said shrugging.

"You didn't see or hear anything? Nothing at all?"

Sabrina looked up as if pondering his question, "No, not really. I just kept running, until I couldn't run anymore. I hid out for over an hour, then finally came back. Guess that was rather cowardly of me, wasn't it?"

"No, not at all. You’re not fully trained as a slayer, and you’ve only just begun to investigate your powers as a witch," Giles said. "You had a strong sense of self-preservation and you saved yourself. That's always preferable to winding up dead."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Willow spoke up, "Sabrina, why don't you go and find the other Potentials, and see if they can bring you up to speed on what's been happening since you've been gone."

"Oh, okay. Sure," Sabrina said rising.

"Tell them I'll be down shortly," Giles said.

"I will," she said, as she walked out.

"Have you talked to Buffy?" Willow asked.

"Not since Wednesday. You?"

"Yesterday. William knows," she said, softly.

Giles nodded, "I knew it was forthcoming. How’s he taking it?"

"Not well, Giles. Not well at all. Buffy said he was destroyed by the news. She sounded pretty destroyed, too."

"Oh dear," Giles said, taking off his glasses to polish them.

"I think today is William's birthday."

Giles shook his head sadly. "I dare say; it won’t be a very happy one."

"No, it won’t," Willow said, "They were supposed to be going to Michigan for vacation, back to the place we were at last year, where they fell in love again, because Buffy wanted it to be special for him.

Giles, you have no idea how pure and innocent he was last year when we got him out of that hospital. I don’t think young William had ever had so much as a kiss, let alone a murderous thought in his head. I wish I could just cast a forgetting spell and make all their pain go away."

Giles shot her a warning glance.

"But I won’t," Willow said, sadly.

He sighed in relief. "I think the best thing we can do right now is to be available to Buffy, if she needs our support."

"What about to William?"

"Of course, to William as well. I don’t envy him his place right now."

Giles got up and went to the window. "That’s odd, I just saw Sabrina crossing the street. I thought she was supposed to go and work out with the other Potentials."

He looked at Willow and frowned.

"What is it, Giles?"

He shook his head, "I don't know, there was just something odd about her today."

Willow nodded, " I know. I don' t know how to say this, Giles, other than Sabrina seems different to me, ever since the night of the attack."

"How so?"

"I don't know, just lots of little things. Like when she talked about being downstairs in the kitchen when we were attacked...she was the one who first told me that she had a bad feeling, a premonition. But whenever we've talked since then, she's never said a thing about that. If I didn't know better, I'd say that she's only mimicking what I’ve said to her about it; as if she wasn’t even there herself."

"Well, that could be from the shock of the experience. You did tell me she was scared to death, and ran off."

"It's not just that. On the way home, I asked her some things about her family, which she had already told me, and she kept changing the subject."

"Well, maybe she just didn’t want to talk about them."

"No, it was more than that. I asked her if she’d heard from her brother lately, and she told me not for a while."

"So?"

"Giles, she’s an only child. We talked about that, since I am, too."

Giles looked at her sharply, "You tricked her, then?"

Willow nodded, "Yeah, and she fell for it. She or whatever she is now."

Giles sighed; "I felt something, too. As soon as she walked in, I just didn’t know what it was. Oh, that and she called me Rupert."

"I noticed."

"You don’t think it’s her, then?"

Willow hesitated, then answered, "No. At first I thought it was just shock, but her aura is wrong, the others noticed it, too. For that reason, we didn’t talk about anything too important when she was around."

Giles nodded, "That was wise. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here but obviously, it has something to do with the attack."

"My guess is that a demon has taken over her body," Willow said.

"A demon who knows my name is Rupert?"

"Good point. What or who do you think it is, then?"

"I don’t know, but I intend to find out. In the meantime, why don’t you see if you can figure out if Sabrina is actually dead, or her essence is still recoverable."

"I’m on it," Willow said.

"Good. Now, onto the business of Angel and Wolfram & Hart."

Willow nodded, "Wolfram & Hart are run by higher beings called the Senior Partners. Althanea contacted them as soon as we became aware that Angel was behind the attacks. They assured her that they knew nothing of his intentions."

"I rather suspected as much," Giles said. "Still, they have every reason to lie to you, to save their own skins."

"I don’t think that they are."

"Why?" Giles asked

"Um... ," Willow began, looking a bit sheepish, "I believe that I may have spoken out of turn, when I warned Angel that the coven would destroy him and Wolfram & Hart, should try to go after William or Buffy..."

"Willow!"

"Turned out the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart are gods, sort of like Glory was."

"Oh dear lord! What do they want, then?"

"Just to go on as before. The Coven's path and that of Wolfram & Hart's don't usually intersect. Althanea told me that over the years they've learned to ignore each other rather nicely. They're working out a plan to deal with Angel, which all parties can live with.

Giles snorted, "I can’t believe that I’m hearing this. The Coven, going along with evil..."

"They're not going along with it at all, Giles, they just don’t have the resources to destroy gods. Their position is that they can’t do any good in this world, if they no longer exist in it at all. They consider themselves, we consider ourselves, a part of the other side of the pendulum of good and evil. We can’t rid the whole world of it, nor can they ever be rid of us. We’re all a part of the balance. You know that, better than anyone. And Giles, you know first hand how hard it was to go up against a god of Glory's strength; this is more than one god."

Giles nodded tersely. "But what about future threats to Buffy and William then? They, rather Angel, obviously had the resources to thwart the protection spell, and even though you assure me that the latest one is even stronger, I don’t doubt that Angel will still try to..."

"He won’t be able to."

"Why not?"

"That's been a part of the negotiations between the coven and the Senior Partners. Althanea wanted me to reassure you that the coven does wield a lot of power, and although we can’t destroy them, we can do a lot of damage to Wolfram & Hart’s interests and clients around the world. Believe me, Angel will no longer be in any position to hurt William or Buffy."

"What are Wolfram & Hart going to do?" Giles asked.

"They’re turning him over to the coven."

"And what is the coven planning to do?"

"They’re removing his power."

Giles scoffed, "That’s it then? They’re removing him from power, and that’s supposed to make me feel better? If Wolfram & Hart weren’t behind the attacks, then as I suspected, Angel had sources of his own. What’s to stop him from using those again?"

"Giles, I said the coven was removing his power, not only removing him from power."

"How so?"

"I’m not exactly clear on that. I’ll have to ask Althanea, but I’m sure it will be quite effective."

"And what of William? What are Wolfram & Hart’s intentions towards him? After all, it was their amulet that wound up being given to him to wear by Buffy, rather than Angel."

"That was accidental, because Buffy wanted Spike by her side, not Angel."

"Or providential," Giles said.

"Either way, it’s also a part of the negotiations. The Senior Partners said they have no use now or in the future for a Victorian Poet, even if he was a former bad-ass vampire, as they put it."

Giles eyes widened in surprise, "Poet?"

"Um-hmm," Willow said, grinning.

"Good Lord!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The late afternoon sun was shining into the office as Giles closed his briefcase, and rose from his chair. He closed the office door and was locking it, when he heard the phone ringing.

"Oh blast it all," he swore, hurrying back in. "Giles here."

"Giles, Wes here, I have some news to tell you about Ethan."

He listened intently as Wes told him that Ethan’s body had been discovered in a park near downtown.

"Are you’re 100% sure?"

"I personally went down to the morgue and identified him from pictures. I took the liberty to send one to you, if you’d like to identify him yourself."

"When did you send it? Did you send it overnight?"

On the other end, Wes sighed, "Giles, its there now. Look in your email."

"Oh, yes. Quite. Hold on a minute," he said, logging on. He saw the email and opened it, downloading the pictures. There it was - the face of his old nemesis, looking quite peaceable. He took off his glasses and looked closer. He’d swear there was a smirk on Ethan’s face. Knowing him, there probably was.

Giles picked back up the phone; "It’s him."

"I thought so. Oh, and to let you know, there was a Wolfram & Hart card found in his pocket."

"How do you know?"

"I told them I was family and they released his belongings to me."

"Was there anything else?"

"No, just the card. Oh, and a pocket watch; I’d say quite old and probably valuable. One more thing, there were marks on his wrists, as though he’d been bound. It looks like Wolfram & Hart used him in some way, then killed him as soon as they had what they wanted. I wonder what that was."

"I think I know," Giles said, and proceeded to fill Wes in on what he knew of recent events.

"So, Wolfram & Hart broke Ethan out of jail, then used him to break down the protection barrier so that Dru could attack Spike and Buffy? Why would they do that?"

"It appears more likely that Angel acted on his own. He lost the Shanshu to Spike, and Buffy."

"I can’t believe he’d go to such lengths..."

"You didn’t know him when he was Angelus."

"You think he’s Angelus now?"

"I don’t know, but he’s obviously been corrupted in some manner. I can’t believe that Angel would do this to Buffy either, although I don’t profess to know the deep feelings of hatred he must have had for Spike. All I know is that there was a lot of animosity on both ends. I just attributed it to their long history, almost a familial contempt."

"I see. Do you want me to speak to Angel?"

"No, don’t approach him at all. I believe the coven is taking steps to rectify this."

"I see. Is there anything else I can do on this end?"

"Are they releasing the body to you?"

"Yes, tomorrow I believe."

"Have it cremated, not buried."

"Why, if I may ask?"

"I don’t quite know, but I just think it would be...more permanent. I just can’t see that Rayne let himself be killed quite so easily."

"You think he would be trying to come back? Because I can assure you, that was a very post-mortem body I was looking at...still, stranger things have happened in our world, haven’t they?"

Giles laughed a small, joyless laugh.

"Not to worry, I’ll have his body cremated, straight away. You’ll let me know if I can be of any more assistance?"

"I will, thank you. Oh, one more thing. What did the coroner rule Rayne’s cause of death as?

"They said it was inconclusive, but that more than likely it was a heart attack."

A heart attack? Bloody unlikely, that!

"Thank you." Giles hung up the phone and stared off into space, something in the back of his head nagging at him. Sighing, he got up, and once more locked up for the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FLASHBACK 3 DAYS BEFORE

LOS ANGELES

PENTHOUSE OF WOLFRAM & HART

AUGUST 12, 2009

TUESDAY

8:30AM

"What is it?" Angel picking up the phone.

"It’s the driver, he’s back," answered a guard who’d been stationed in the garage all night.

"Is anyone with him?"

"Negative."

"I’ll be right down," Angel answered, his face going dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where is he?"

"Over there," said the guard, pointing to the small office, in the corner of garage.

Angel swung the office door open, surprising the driver, who spilled his hot coffee all over himself and the table he was sharing with a couple of the other drivers.

"Out!" Angel yelled to the other two.

Looking at their comrade with sympathy, they hurried out.

Angel closed the door, "What happened?"

"We arrived around 7:30 last night, the one who calls herself Dru and the other two got out to walk the rest of the way up the road. A little after 8:00pm a car with a blonde woman in it, sped up the drive. That was it, until almost 6:30am this morning, when another car carrying a man and a woman arrived. I’m sorry, nobody ever came out."

"Did anyone see you?"

"I don’t think so, I was up the road and off to the side, but I could get a clear look at who was coming and going, using the magnified video mirror."

"So you just left then?"

"Yes, but not until morning. Well past the time they were expected back."

Angel nodded. "That will be all."

The driver sighed in relief.

Angel turned back around, "Did she leave anything behind in the car?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, any personal belongings; I’d like to have them, if she did."

"No there was nothing. I checked the backseat before I put the car away, like I always do."

"What about the floor?"

"I don’t think so."

"Well, it’s really important to me, how about we go over there and you check again."

The driver was about to argue, but then he saw Angel’s eyes and just nodded.

They walked silently over to the limousine and the driver opened the back door, "See there’s nothing on the floor...wait, what are you doing?" he asked, as he was pushed into the back seat, the door slamming after him.

Angel didn’t heed the pounding on the windows or the frantic cries of the driver as he walked away. "Why? What did I do? I did as I was asked? Pleeeease!"

"You know what to do," Angel said to the guard as he walked past him, on his way to his private elevator.

The guard nodded, emotionless.

The elevator door opened and Angel got on, pushing the button to take him back up to his penthouse.

The guard looked over at the limousine then pushed the button on the remote, setting the backseat aflame.

He put on the special protective ear covering, used by airport workers, and Wolfram & Hart employees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LOS ANGELES

OFFICES OF WOLFRAM & HART

AUGUST 15, 2009

9:00AM

"What do you want?" Angel asked as Lilah walked into his office.

"It’s not what I want, it’s what the Senior Partners want, lover."

Angel looked up from his desk, "What would that be?"

"They’re requesting your presence in The White Room. Actually, both of ours."

"Great, just what I needed. What’s this about?"

"I’m not sure."

"And if I don’t agree to their request?"

"It’s not a request, it’s a summons."

Angel had a funny feeling looking at Lilah, "Is there something you’re not telling me?"

She shook her head; "I don’t know anything more than you do. I just got this memo, requesting our presence in the White Room this morning."

Angel took his time tidying up his desk, before rising from his seat, "Very well, lets go. Wouldn’t want to keep the Senior Partners waiting now would we?"

The elevator door opened up to a bright, blinding light, and the ferocious howling of otherworldly winds. Angel squinted and looked down, his foot testing the solidity of the ground through the swirling mist. Satisfied, he stepped off the elevator. Lilah followed.

"Well, what now?" he asked, his voice straining to be heard through the maelstrom.

"We wait," Lilah yelled back.

A few moments later the winds and mist disappeared, as shafts of bright yellow, blue, and purple lights appeared from above. As they descended, they became corporeal, the colors became the robes and inside them, the mystical Senior Partners.

Angel’s expression gave no indication of surprise, whereas Lilah’s eyes were wide.

"And so finally we meet," Angel said.

"Yes, we meet," said the purple robed Senior Partner, regarding Angel with narrowed eyes.

"It’s an honor..." Lilah began.

"Silence!" said the yellow Senior Partner. "Your job is finished here, be gone!"

Before she could question or protest, Lilah disappeared into a million bits of inky black mist, quickly swirling to the top of the room’s ceiling, then disappearing.

Angel stood alone now.

"What is it you want?" Angel asked, his false bravado quickly fading.

"You have failed us, vampire. You have taken it upon yourself to use the power of your position to go against The Champion."

Angel sputtered, "Who? What are you talking about?"

"I believe you know very well who we’re talking about."

"You can’t mean...? Oh, this is rich..."

The blue robed Senior Partner stepped forward, "It’s precisely who we mean. Not only that, you used Wolfram, & Hart’s resources to free a prisoner, then had him summon demons against our allies at the United Coven of Bath."

"Allies?"

"Not exactly allies, but we have an understanding with them that reaches back eons older than you; we are but a piece of the puzzle, they another. Although we don’t work the same way, our goals at times have not been in conflict."

Angel shook his head; "I don’t believe this."

Just then the air began to shimmer and much like their own appearance, a fourth figure materialized.

"Althanea," said the purple robed figure to her respectfully, "you always did like to make a grand entrance."

"You should talk, Gordon," she said, grinning bemusedly at him.

Gordon? Angel looked over at him, questioningly.

"A family name...but enough about me. Althanea, I turn the proceedings over to you."

"Proceedings? These are proceedings now?" Angel asked, irritation evident in his voice.

"Indeed they are, Angel, "Althanea answered. She held out her hand, and a small scroll appeared. She unrolled it; "By The Highest Order of the United Coven of Bath, granted us by The Powers That Be, we hereby strip you of all of your enhanced vampire strength, sight, speed, and hearing for an indeterminate amount of time. We take you with us now, back to your homeland, where you can live out your days, and hopefully find a way to once more become a useful member of the world."

Angel tried to say something, but as the last of her words fell from her lips, a binding spell surrounded Angel, rendering any words or physical movements impossible.

Althanea turned to the Senior Partners, "I believe this concludes the coven’s business with you for now."

Gordon reluctantly nodded, "Yes, so it does. He turned towards Angel, "It’s really too bad you know, we had high hopes for you. Oh well."

Althanea looked around at each of the Senior Partners, "Two things before we take our leave of you. "First a warning; you are to have nothing to do with William Worthington, formerly known as Spike, and William the Bloody, or anybody he knows or is acquainted with. The same applies to the former Chosen One, Buffy Summers, known now as Elizabeth Worthington. Secondly, you are truly despicable; taking a vampire with a soul, who’s been good for many years, and corrupting him. You, and this ‘corporation of the damned,’ is what turned him back into a monster."

Gordon smiled at her, "You call it corruption, I say we merely exploited a weakness that was already. Besides, corrupting power is what runs the world, Althanea. You should know that."

"As well I do, but that doesn’t make it, or all of you, any less despicable."

"Coming from you, we’ll take that as high praise."

"Good-bye, Gordon. Consider yourself warned," she said, and with a small wave of her hand, both her and Angel disappeared in a flash of bright yellow light.

"Too bad," sighed the blue robed figure, "I had such high hopes for him."

The yellow robe figure shrugged, "An acceptable casualty of doing business. It could’ve been much worse."

They all nodded vigorously.

Gordon smiled suddenly, "I hear there’s a formerly, very powerful domestic goddess by the name of Martha something-or-other, who might be needing a new position."

"Excellent idea," said the yellow robed figure, as the three Senior Partners exited the white room, in the same manner in which they had appeared.

END CHAPTER 150

CONT. CH. 151 - 155

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