The Song Remains the Same by SMac

Chapter 21: On The Edge of Tomorrow

Mid-December


Willow had decided not to confront Spike immediately when she noticed that Harmony seemed to have blown up into full stalker mode right in his face. She had hoped that Harmony's reaction to Spike's 'use and discard' dating behavior would prove the wake up call that he needed and her planned lecture would become unnecessary. Unfortunately, the only effect Harmony seemed to have on Spike was extreme annoyance. The dating behavior remained firmly on track.

Until the week before Thanksgiving.

Sometime during that week, Spike changed. His mood was neither angry nor flirty. He seemed... thoughtful. Contemplative. Sad, somehow. Yes, overriding everything, there was a sadness in Spike the last few weeks that colored everything he did and said, and Willow could not put her finger on what might have been the cause of this swift change in mood. She had turned from furious friend to concerned friend when she watched Spike at school day after day, just going through the motions, not speaking unless specifically called upon to do so. His mind was clearly elsewhere right now.

Even Harmony was unable to get a rise out of him. Whenever she would do something that previously would have infuriated him and resulted in a edgy put down, he now simply smiled sadly at her and told her to leave him be for a bit, that he needed some space to think.

Oddly, that seemed to work with Harmony. She seemed to understand the whole 'I need some space' lecture while the 'get away from me you skanky bitch' one had no effect whatsoever. Strange girl.

Spike had not appeared at their table for lunch today, so Willow excused herself and went in search of him. After some effort, she finally located him in the small amphitheater outside the music rooms, smoking a cigarette and looking like his head was ten thousand miles away.

"Spike," she called gently to him. His head tilted in her direction briefly, but he didn't look her way or otherwise acknowledge her presence.

She walked over and sat companionably next to him on the cement 'stage'. "We missed you at lunch." No response. "You okay in there?"

Spike smirked briefly and nodded. "Fine."

"You don't look fine. You look kinda... lost," she noted softly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He remained silent, taking another drag on his cigarette.

When he didn't respond further, Willow tried again. "I'm worried about you."

"Don't be."

"Don't be he says," Willow smiled. "As if." She tried again. "It usually helps to talk about things. Holding them in all on your own doesn't usually work out well in the end, I've heard."

Silence. He blew out a smoke ring and they both watched it rise and disappear. Suddenly he stood and crushed the cigarette out with his boot. With his back to her, he looked out over the cement seating area and put his hands in his duster pockets. Willow remained still.

"Spike--"

"'M a father, did you know that?" he blurted suddenly.

Willow's eyebrows shot up with alarm. He turned to take in her reaction.

"Yeah. Well, 'almost' a father anyway. Girl got rid of it coupla weeks ago."

Willow didn't know what to say. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." He turned back to stare out over the seating again. "No fuss, no muss. Gone."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not," he turned back to Willow. "Yeah. I'm relieved." He laughed harshly. "Relieved. Fuckin' wanker that I am....Relieved." He shook his head and sighed heavily. "Fuckin' useless wanker."

Willow jumped up and stood beside him. "No, Spike. Not a 'wanker', whatever that is. Anyone would be relieved in a situation like that. It doesn't make you a bad person," she stopped. "Did you talk her into getting rid of it?"

"Nah, her mum pretty much insisted that was the way it would go. My feelings weren't really in the decision, you know?" he answered quietly.

"Well then, it wasn't your decision to make and you didn't make it. You have nothing to be guilty about there." Willow nodded firmly.

"Don't work like that, pet," he turned toward his friend and smiled sadly. "I was the one who put her in the position to have to decide, wasn't I? That was on me. I did that." He stared at the ground and added, "I created a life without any thought, and was relieved to see it end so it wouldn't upset my own life, my own plans. 'M not proud of that, Red. 'M gonna live with that the rest of m'life. Always gonna know I did that."

Willow took his hand in hers and squeezed until he looked her in the eyes. "Yeah, you will. It was a mistake. But you can make sure it doesn't happen again that way, you know? You can learn from it and be a better man because of it." She smiled. "You're a good person, Spike. I know that about you. This doesn't change that a bit. But maybe you should, you know, lay off the power dating for a while. Start thinking about maybe finding a real girlfriend, someone you can share your life with, instead of a bunch of girls whose names you barely remember. You know?"

He took in her quiet words and her loving support, and pulled her into a hard embrace.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. Time to settle down a bit, yeah?" He nodded seriously.

"Just have to find the right girl is all." Willow grinned into his chest. "I hear Harmony is available."

He erupted into a huge belly laugh as he let go of Willow. "I'll just bet she is."

The two friends started walking back toward the main building. Willow noted Harmony walking across the campus in the same direction, and quickly pulled a puzzled Spike off the other way. No need to ruin the moment.


~~~~~~~


"Well, golly. Aren't they just the cutest little things? I could just eat them all up," Mayor Richard Wilkins III gushed cheerfully as Brownie Troop 32 waved a goodbye and filed out of his office on Saturday morning. He turned to his Deputy Mayor, Alan Finch, who was standing nervously to his left.

"There's the future of America, right there, Alan. Fresh-faced and innocent, their whole lives ahead of them. Just does my heart good to see their happy little faces learning all about how government works." He reached over and adjusted the blinds as the door shut solidly behind the Brownies and their troop leader. "Bring Mr Trick in now, please, Alan."

Alan nodded and quickly opened the door to an adjoining room, motioning a slim African American man to enter the mayor's office, and exiting hurriedly the same way. The visitor wore an expensive dark grey suit with a perfect cut, as well as some very good, if ostentatious, gold jewelry. He was obviously very conscious of appearances and had the money to indulge that luxury. His whole demeanor was that of a man easily in control and expecting to remain that way.

"Welcome to City Hall, Mr Trick. I trust you weren't waiting long to see me."

Mr Trick smiled and shook his head, "No no, not long at all. It did give me an opportunity, though, to ponder why I would be invited to your office on this fine Saturday morning. It would seem to be, shall we say, indiscreet."

Mayor Wilkins settled down behind his large desk, and motioned for Mr Trick to take a seat before him.

"Hard candy?" he proffered the bowl to his guest as he popped one into his mouth.

Mr Trick shook his head and waited politely for the mayor to get to the point.

"All business, I see. Well, we'll just get down to it, then won't we?" the mayor smiled smoothly. "You have no doubt been paying attention to the little crime wave that has disturbed our peaceful community?"

Mr Trick's eyes narrowed into a frown. "If you are referring to the Coast Killer, then yes. One would have to be deaf and blind not to notice the press coverage this past year."

"Well, he has been quite the busy bee, now, hasn't he? I believe the body count is up to ten now, with three disappearances unaccounted for as well."

Mr Trick nodded, not really seeing where this conversation was going. "Other than dampening tourism, I fail to see how this concerns us."

"Ah, my friend, it concerns us very deeply I'm afraid," the mayor shook his head sadly. "You see, the community has been concerned about this killer for a while now, but lately the press has whipped them up into something of a frenzy about the seeming inability of the police to capture the rascal." He picked up a newspaper and handed it to his guest. "Note today's headline."

"Keystone Cops Can't Catch Coastal Killer." Mr Trick read the headline.

"Yes, the alliteration is simply dreadful, don't you think?" the mayor said with distaste. "However, that is not my concern here. There is something much more disturbing at work."

"And that would be?" Mr Trick was tiring of this conversation. The mayor loved to hear himself speak, and all conversations with the man seemed to take twice as long as they should do in Mr Trick's opinion.

"It's a little thing called public relations, Mr Trick. It's an election year, and certain government officials are becoming very concerned over how this failure to capture the killer is affecting their constituencies and their ability to raise money for their campaigns," the mayor stated somberly.

"People are upset. They blame the government and police. What are we supposed to do about that?" Mr Trick asked with annoyance.

"There is an old political saw, Mr Trick, that comes into play in a situation such as this one," the mayor explained patiently. "If you can't give the voters what they want, distract them by giving them something else they want instead. And if you're really good, you can convince them that they wanted the substitute even more than the thing they originally demanded."

Mr Trick sat silently waiting for the mayor to get to the point.

"The powers that be, Mr Trick," the mayor gestured upward, "have decided upon a diversion. Something to draw the newspaper headlines away from the dreary inability to catch a killer." The mayor paused for effect. "They have decided on a drug raid."

The mayor had Mr Trick's full attention now. "Drug raid?"

"Yes, a very large, splashy, visually impressive drug raid. And where do you suppose they have focused their attention for the past two years?"

Mr Trick blanched.

"That's right. A joint operation by the DEA and the local police departments and sheriff's office has been working right under our noses here in San Martine. It's an undercover operation, and the entire thing has been very hush hush. Which is why this is the first I am hearing of it now. An interesting situation, is it not?"

Mr Trick held himself very still in his chair as he pondered what this meant for them.

"Now I suggest, Mr Trick, that you contact your managers and warn them about the impending raids and then immediately disentangle yourself from anything that might tie you to the operation. I will do likewise on my end. And do it now, Mr Trick, as the raid is set to start any time after two today." He looked at his watch. "That gives us four hours to work with."

Mr Trick pulled out his cell phone and started making calls as he nodded to the mayor and walked briskly out of the office.

Mayor Wilkins sat impassively and watched him leave.





Working for Mayor Wilkins was not all he'd hoped it would be. As Deputy Mayor, Alan Finch had initially assumed that he would be granted some power of his own to wield. Sadly, that had not been the case. Mr Wilkins held all the power and control in this office of government, and did so with a cheerful albeit iron will. Privately, Alan referred to the mayor's leadership plan as the 'smile or you will die horribly' plan. Alan learned early on to smile reflexively and support unwaveringly anything the mayor wished to do. With that survival mechanism came also a nervous tic in his jaw and a sensitive stomach. The mayor had all the charm of a grinning death's head in Alan's opinion. He wondered that he was able to fool the voters with his deceptively mild if corny good manners. The man scared the bejesus out of Alan.

For the entire morning the mayor had seemed uncharacteristically snappish and angry, and had only gotten worse after speaking to Mr Trick. Alan tried to go about his business as usual, but he had that hunted look, and visibly flinched whenever his intercom buzzed him in before the mayor. Like it was buzzing right now.

"Alan!" the mayor barked at the young man. Sitting before the mayor was a huge stack of files and documents, and a shredder had been set up hastily in a corner of the huge mayoral office.

"Yes, sir," Alan ducked his head nervously and awaited his orders.

"We have some old useless documents to take care of this morning. The work'll go faster with two busy hands rather than one. Here. Step over here and start with this stack and I'll handle the one next to me." Mayor Wilkins was all smiles suddenly. It was creepy.

"There's nothing like shredding things to just pick up my entire day," the mayor grinned as he started feeding the paper into the machine. "And what a fine day this is, don't you think?"

Alan nodded worriedly and began shredding the second stack. Something was definitely up today, and he didn't know what it was but it seemed pretty bad. He thought idly about updating his resume and getting another job. Another job far far away from San Martine. In another state perhaps. Or a new country. Yes, he really needed to do that right away.






The shredding complete, the mayor dismissed Alan for the day, suggesting he take an unscheduled vacation for the next week. Alan was so relieved to be out of there that he decided not to question it further. He packed up his desk and scurried away. He had already decided he wasn't coming back.

Alone now, Mayor Wilkins sat back in his chair with his hands steepled in front of him. He was certain about the paper trail, and he knew that his managers would shield his name from the authorities, even if they were arrested before they could flee. He didn't like loose ends, though, so he began to consider a back up plan in case one of them decided to trade him for immunity. You never knew with people nowadays. You just couldn't trust a man's handshake any more; and there was no telling what a rat might do when cornered.

When loyalty and trust could not be relied upon, one had to use what one had at hand. He'd always found that fear was a very useful tool in times such as these. And Mayor Wilkins, for all his humble and jovial persona, could be a very scary man.

He settled back into his chair with a wide smile. Yes, fear would be a very useful tool indeed.


~~~~~~~


Faith and Buffy had settled into a quiet life together during the past year, and things were both peaceful and hopeful during this Christmas season.

Faith was learning to handle her new responsibilities in her managerial position at the club, and Buffy was taking in alterations and hemming from the five dry cleaners in the area that had been willing to give her a chance to prove herself to them. It wasn't as much money as she'd been making with Illyria, but it would do for now. She continued to save and contribute to the household funds jar as best she could.

Things were calm and harmonious, and Christmas plans were being made early this year. Faith didn't oppose the tree this time, and they already had some presents wrapped beneath it, tantalizing them with the promise of Christmas morning delights. Buffy's primary domestic concern was thwarting all of Katie's attempts to unwrap the gifts under the tree. She had that whole present-unwrapping thing down pat since her birthday party. She seemed to think that all the presents were for her, and Buffy had rescued a gift from her baby's little fingers more than once in the past week.

Buffy had just recently had a letter from Fred in Texas. The family had gone back to his parents home initially, but the tension there was pretty high, so they decided to see about moving closer to her family instead. Fred said all was well with them otherwise, and that she'd write and let Buffy know what their new address was going to be as soon as she had one to give. She missed her friend terribly, and thought of her often as they prepared for the holidays.




After a enjoying a light lunch, Buffy settled Katie in for her nap, and started hand-sewing the finishing touches on a new little dress she'd made for her. It was black velvet with white lace, and was intended for Christmas day. She knew it was a little extravagant and had no doubt Katie would not really appreciate it at her age, but she couldn't help herself. She had had such a dress for Christmas when she was a tiny girl, and she wanted Katie to have one as well. She had seen pictures of herself opening presents and sitting at the formal dinners her mother always hosted for Christmas, and she was nostalgic for those happier times. She wanted to give Katie the best she could, always. She stilled and thought a moment and corrected herself. She wanted to give Katie all the best without the whole rigid Stepford aspects of it. She had to remind herself - she was not her mom. And if Katie got this little dress dirty, she would not be having any angry scenes and spoil the festive occasion. She was not her mom. She wasn't.


~~~~~~~


Robin had decided to take Faith away to Carmel for the weekend, just the two of them, and they'd rented a bungalow near the beach for the utmost in privacy combined with a charming atmosphere. The entire location was idyllic, even in the chill of winter, and Faith was completely and utterly content with her life right now. A stroll among the many shops was next on her list of things to do, and she was glad she now had the money to actually buy some proper gifts for her loved ones this Christmas.

They were just leaving the restaurant after a very enjoyable mid-morning brunch when Robin's cell phone rang shrilly. Faith watched Robin speaking to someone on the other end, his face becoming more grim the longer he listened. Suddenly he hung up the phone and grabbed Faith's hand.

"We're outta here. Now." he declared urgently. With a strong tug he pulled Faith with him to his car and loaded her in.

"What's happening?!" Faith demanded to know. "Who was that on the phone? What are we doing?"

Robin didn't pause a second while he answered her. "That was my boss. He said the cops are on their way to the club and my apartment any minute and we have to get out of here now."

"Get away! Get away where?!" Faith was in shock. What the hell was happening? What was she supposed to do?

"Come with me and I'll take care of you, Faith," Robin urged her as he hopped in the driver's seat and grabbed her hand again. "I have to go. You're in this too, and I love you Faith, I really do, but I have to go, with you or without you. If you don't come with me then the police are going to put this on you. Please, just come with me now. Before it's too late."

Faith couldn't think. What the hell should she do? She loved Robin, she knew her hands weren't clean here and she'd wind up in prison too if she didn't run. But what about Buffy? Would she be okay? What would Buffy do?

"Buffy!?"

"What about her?"

"What do I do about her!? She can't support herself. She needs me."

"She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself, Faith. It's us who are in trouble here." Robin drove hurriedly back to the bungalow to get their bags.

"No! She's not, she's sixteen, baby, she doesn't have anyone else. I've gotta bring her with us."

"There's no time, Faith. We can't drive back to Sunnydale to get her. We leave here now or go to prison. There's papers in the club that implicate us both, and we're not there to destroy them. I love you, I have money in an offshore account, and I can take care of us, but only if you come with me now. NOW Faith." Robin looked hard at his girlfriend, urging her to give him a final answer.

Faith nodded her assent with a heavy heart. She had to go, she couldn't go to jail. She loved Robin, she wanted to be with him and he said he'd take care of her.

Buffy would be okay. She wasn't involved in this, no one would blame her for anything, she didn't know anything. She was strong, she'd survive this. But Faith had to go now, and there was no looking back.

With a last prayer for Buffy's safety, Faith turned to Robin and said with all the conviction she could muster, "Let's motor."

And in a blink, they were gone.


~~~~~~


Buffy folded the dress into the sewing basket, rising and stretching her tired muscles.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Who was at the door? Faith was gone for the weekend, and there really wasn't anyone else around to visit with.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Louder. Impatient.

"Coming!" She walked over to the door and asked before opening it, "Who's there?"

"Police! Open the door!"

Buffy froze. *Huh?*


~~~~~~


The plot thickens. Hope you're hanging in there. More coming soon.

Sara

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