Summary: When Buffy falls through the portal in The Gift, she doesn't die. Instead, she turns up in Sunnydale—twenty years in the future. What happens when the one person she thought she'd never be happy to see is the one person who's stayed the same?
Rating: PG-13
Buffy woke slowly, realizing at once that she wasn't in her own bed. The light was all wrong for that, and the sheets on the bed felt different than her old ones. Memories from the previous night came rushing back, and Buffy groaned. She felt like she was in some kind of nightmare world.
A soft knock on the door had her wishing she could pull the covers up over her head and ignore the whole world. "Buffy?" Spike's voice was hesitant.
She sighed, knowing that staying in bed wasn't going to change anything. "Yeah?"
"You hungry? I picked up a few things."
"Yeah, I guess," Buffy called back.
"Coffee?"
"Please," she said fervently. Hopefully twenty years hadn't changed coffee all that much, because she was feeling the need for a cup.
Buffy looked at her clothing from the previous night; her pants and sweater were ruined, but there was no way she could wander around in Spike's boxers and t-shirt forever. She smiled, remembering his explanation that he'd never worn the boxers; the way he'd stumbled over his words had been amusing.
She sighed, knowing that there wasn't much of a choice at the moment, and so she left the bedroom, feeling very underdressed. "Hey."
"Eggs an' toast alright?" he asked. "It's about the only thing I can guarantee to come out."
"That's fine," Buffy replied.
Spike glanced at her from his spot by the stove. "I got some clothes for you."
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "How did you know what size I am?"
"Probably best not to get into that," Spike replied. "But it doesn't matter, because it's all your stuff from before."
Buffy's eyes widened. "You kept it?"
He shrugged. "Couldn't bring myself to get rid of it. They tossed a bunch of stuff when the house was sold, but I picked some things up when they weren't looking." He nodded towards the couch. "Take a peek while I get breakfast ready."
Buffy gave him a curious look, but went over to the couch. She opened the plastic tub slowly, seeing Mr. Gordo immediately. "Oh! You saved Mr. Gordo." Spike didn't reply, and Buffy kept rifling through the bin, seeing her favorite sweater, a couple of pairs of jeans, even her favorite yummy sushi pajamas. They should have been musty with accumulated age, but instead Buffy could smell a light herbal fragrance. She wondered how often Spike had opened the bin since he'd packed it away. "Spike..."
"I don't know why I kept it, alright?" Spike said, nearly snarling the words. "Just didn't seem right, them clearing everything out, like—"
"It's okay," Buffy said, deciding not to question it. Whatever Spike's motives behind keeping the bin intact had been, it had been for the best in the end. At least she had something to wear now. "I'm going to go change."
"Yeah, sure," Spike said. "Breakfast should be ready in a minute."
"It won't take me too long," she replied.
It was a relief to have her own clothes on, to put Mr. Gordo on her bed where he'd always resided, to fold the rest of her things and put them in a drawer. Buffy felt a little bit more normal after that.
Spike was putting a plate full of eggs and toast on the table when she came out. "Got coffee for you, too."
"Thanks." She'd been saying that a lot since she'd run into him. Buffy wondered if the world had ended, and no one had told her about it yet. Of course, having Spike feed her breakfast and put her up at his place pretty much indicated that the next apocalypse was just around the corner.
"Dawn called earlier," Spike said. "She's heading down today, and we'll pick her up at the airport this evening."
"What about the others?" Buffy asked.
"Called Tara, an' she'll be here later today when her shift ends," Spike offered.
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "What about Willow and Xander?"
Spike shrugged. "Dawn's calling them, and she didn't say if she'd done it yet."
Buffy wondered at that—wondered why it was that Spike felt comfortable talking to Tara and Giles, but refused to call Willow or Xander. He seemed to have such a great relationship with Dawn, he'd said they'd lived together for a while, so why was it so difficult?
"Is Dawn still—you know, talking to them?" Buffy finally asked.
Spike shrugged. "Sometimes. They didn't quite see eye to eye on some things."
Buffy wasn't sure that she understood. "What happened, Spike? To Dawn, I mean, after I fell. Did the others not take care of her? I thought—I thought they would." She had believed that she could trust them to take care of her sister. She hadn't had any other choice but to jump; it had been either her or Dawn, and there was no way that Buffy would have ever allowed Dawn to sacrifice herself.
But if she'd known that there would be no one to take care of her sister, Buffy wouldn't have found it quite so easy to leap. She wouldn't have felt so much peace with her decision.
Spike shook his head. "They did for a while, but then Xander got married, an' that changed things, as it always does. Willow got lost in the magic for a bit. It was mostly just Tara an' me, an' Rupert, as much as he could."
Buffy swallowed. "Did—social services didn't—"
"We took care of her," Spike soothed. "Had to pull a couple of fast ones, but we got through it. Turns out they weren't so interested in Dawn once she was in school full time and stayin' out of trouble. Once she figured that out, she about raised herself." Spike's eyes were soft with memories. "She's a good kid."
Buffy was suddenly certain that she was in the Twilight Zone. This whole thing was impossible. Not that anybody could expect everything to stay the same if they'd been gone twenty years, but this was too much. Willow and Xander were the ones she'd counted on to take care of Dawn; they were her friends. They knew how important it was.
The very idea that Dawn's care had been left in Spike's hands at all—
Buffy put her hands over her face, taking a deep breath, trying to get herself under control. She was not going to cry in front of Spike. She'd done that once already, and she had no intention of doing it again. It was stupid, and even if he reacted as well as he had the last time, it was just—
"Hey, now," Spike said softly, his long fingers curling around her upper arms in a firm grip that Buffy couldn't help but find comforting. "It's gonna be okay, Buffy. You'll get through this."
"How?" Buffy demanded. "I'm supposed to be dead, Spike! I wanted it! I never wanted this!"
She had wanted to finally be at peace, and instead had found herself in a world that no longer made sense, with people she no longer knew. Even Spike, who seemed to have changed the least, was different. He had an apartment, and different clothing, and he seemed—more human somehow. She hadn't even had to punch him in the nose yet, and that wasn't right. Nothing was right, and Buffy didn't see how it would ever be right again.
Slayers weren't supposed to live this long; Buffy knew that she was supposed to be dead. Obviously the world hadn't ended without her around, so why did she even need to be there?
To her surprise, Spike pulled her into a rough embrace, and Buffy let her forehead rest on his shoulder. He was her only guide in a world gone wrong, and even though he'd changed, it seemed he'd done less changing than anyone else.
For a moment, Buffy could forget that the arms around her were Spike's arms, and that she was supposed to hate him. For a moment, Buffy could pretend that he was a man, and not a monster.
She only wished that she never had to stop pretending.
~~~~~
Spike let Tara in with a grateful smile, spotting the casserole in her hands. "Thanks, pet."
"It's my pleasure, Spike," she replied. "How is she handling things?"
"About as well as you might expect." He lowered his voice. "I don't know what to do for her, Tara. Think she's expectin' Rupert or the others to make things right, but..." He trailed off, not wanting to voice his opinion on the matter. While Spike could certainly understand why Buffy might feel that way, he also knew that this wasn't going to be pleasant.
If Buffy felt adrift at present, seeing Xander and Willow again was sure to only make it worse.
In his more charitable moments, Spike could admit that they weren't that bad, at least not these days. He got along okay with both of them, as long as he didn't have to spend too much time in their company. There had been some harsh words exchanged when Spike had discovered that Dawn was skipping classes and in danger of bringing the wrath of the social workers down on them all. By the time that Willow had made her third attempt to bring Buffy back, nearly killing Dawn in the process, Spike's relationship with Willow had been so strained that it wouldn't have taken much to end it, and Xander had moved out of town.
From the beginning, Xander and Willow had argued that he was a bad influence on the girl, but their arguments hadn't held water. At least under Spike's care, Dawn had made it to school and got her homework done. After that first confrontation, Giles and Tara had both involved themselves the way that they hadn't before, and both of them were pragmatic enough to realize that Spike would keep his promises concerning Dawn.
If he said that Dawn would get her homework done, she got her homework done. It was that simple.
Neither Willow nor Xander had ever quite forgiven him for recalling Giles and asking Tara to step in, however. There had been harsh words exchanged, and things had gotten ugly, and then uglier. There were some chasms that even time couldn't heal.
Tara nodded, understanding. "We'll figure it out, Spike. It's good that you're here for her, and Dawn's on her way."
Spike managed a smile, and then led her into the kitchen. "That need anythin'?" he asked.
Tara shook her head. "It's still warm, if Buffy's hungry, and if not, you can put it in the fridge and heat it up again later."
"What about me being hungry?" Buffy asked, coming out of her bedroom, where she'd disappeared as soon as she brought herself under control. Spike had thought she might be a bit embarrassed by her earlier breakdown. He knew how much Buffy hated to show weakness.
Spike watched her carefully for any sign that she might be nervous or uncomfortable. Although he didn't often think about it, he knew that Tara had changed and aged. She was still a beautiful, graceful woman, but she was 40 now, and time always brought change. He could catch the barest hint of uncertainty in Buffy's voice, but she was hiding it admirably.
Tara smiled, gracious as always. "Buffy. You look wonderful."
Buffy managed a return smile. "Getting caught in a time warp will do wonders for a girl."
Spike took the casserole dish that Tara handed to him and watched as the older woman enveloped Buffy in a hug. The Slayer clung to her a bit and then pulled back. "You look really good, too," Buffy said, although she looked a little bewildered.
"It's a little weird, I'm sure," Tara said sympathetically.
"That's one way to put it," Buffy agreed. "It's still hard to believe."
"Are you hungry?" Tara asked. "I brought lunch, because I knew Spike probably wouldn't have much."
"Hey, I did some grocery shopping," Spike protested.
"You still can't cook, sweetie," Tara responded patiently. She smiled at Buffy. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," Buffy replied. "I guess not eating for a while is catching up to me."
Spike watched as Tara began to bustle about, making herself at home as she always did. "I didn't think you'd want to meet a lot of new people today, but I'd like you to meet my partner and our child sometime."
He watched as she hesitated just a bit. "I'd like that."
Tara smiled uncertainly. "I'm sure Spike's told you that Willow and I aren't together anymore."
"He did," Buffy said, meeting Spike's eyes and then looking quickly away. "He said it had something to do with Willow trying to bring me back?"
Tara's eyes darkened with painful memories. "We disagreed about her use of magic, that's all. She's doing really well now."
"Have you talked to her yet?" Buffy asked Spike. "I mean, you said that Dawn was going to call her, but she hasn't called you, or—"
"She doesn't call here," Spike said flatly. "And if she decides to come to Sunnydale, we'll be meetin' on neutral ground."
Buffy frowned. "Why?"
"Willow wasn't very nice to Spike the last time they saw one another," Tara explained, cutting in. "It was a misunderstanding."
Spike wanted to point out that the only thing that Willow misunderstood was that he wasn't going to be treated like dirt, particularly after he'd managed to keep Dawn in school and away from the social workers, with very little help from her. Catching Tara's warning look, he refrained from doing so, however. "Yeah."
Buffy's frown deepened, but she said nothing, apparently deciding to take Tara's explanation at face value. She dug into the plate that Tara set in front of her with relish. "This is really good."
Tara smiled, picking up her own fork. "I'm glad you like it."
Spike wasn't eating; while he liked some kinds of human food quite a bit, Tara's chicken casserole was her standard offering whenever someone was in need of comfort. It wasn't spicy enough for him, however. "Tara was the one who made sure that Dawn didn't starve to death."
Tara shrugged modestly. "Dawn learned how to cook on her own pretty quickly. I didn't do that much."
Buffy looked from one to the other, her green eyes confused. "Who did Dawn end up living with?" she asked. "When did you sell the house?"
"Willow and I moved in right after—you know," Tara explained gently. "We used the Buffy-bot to help convince the social workers and the demon population that you were still around."
"Not much difference between the two as far as I could tell," Spike muttered.
Tara shot him a reproving look. "If you'll remember, Yvonne is a social worker."
"Your partner excepted," Spike allowed.
Tara sighed, giving up on the long-standing debate. Spike liked Yvonne, but that was mostly because she'd been instrumental in making certain that they'd kept custody of Dawn once it became impossible to hide the fact that Buffy was gone. "Once the Buffy-bot was destroyed, we had to make a few decisions. We kept the house until Dawn's senior year of high school, but after that, it just wasn't feasible."
Buffy shook her head. "But who stayed with Dawn?" she pressed. She shot Spike a dirty look. "Spike hasn't really said."
Tara winced. "Giles helped Dawn get emancipated, and he assured the social workers that she wasn't going to be out on the streets. Willow stayed with her for some of the time, and then Dawn lived with me."
"And after the house was sold?" Buffy asked.
"She stayed with Tara, then in the dorms her first year of college, an' then she moved in with me when that didn't work out. She was old enough to make her own decisions at that point." Spike knew that Tara wouldn't let him get away with saying any more. She seemed bent on protecting Buffy's memories of people who no longer existed.
"And Xander and Willow?" Buffy asked.
"Willow was going through a tough time," Tara hedged. "And Xander and Anya were married, so neither of them had as much time for her. Everyone was doing their best, Buffy."
Buffy didn't look convinced, but she nodded, finishing off the last of her lunch. "I'm sure."
Spike wondered if hearing Xander and Willow's stories would swing her in their direction; there were always two sides to every story, after all, and they had been her close friends. Of course, Dawn would be arriving before they did, and Spike had a feeling that she would tell Buffy the unvarnished truth.
Time hadn't changed that much at least.
~~~~~
In a way, Buffy had found it a relief to finally see one of her friends. Tara had changed, of course, but not as much as she'd feared. She certainly would have recognized Tara if they'd passed one another on the street. Other than a few more lines on her face, a little bit of gray in her hair, and maybe a few more pounds, she was the same.
After hearing all she'd wanted about Willow and Xander, Buffy had quickly changed the subject, asking the other woman about Yvonne and their daughter, Sophia.
Even though seeing Tara had been reassuring, hearing about the other woman's life had been anything but. Buffy couldn't quite wrap her mind around the idea that her friends were old enough to be married and have children of their own. Buffy had no idea how she was going to respond when she saw Dawn for the first time.
If watching Tara pull out pictures of her child had been strange, seeing Dawn do the same would be that much worse.
Buffy had just begun thinking about what she was supposed to do next. Just a few days ago—or what seemed like a few days ago—she had been a college dropout, responsible for raising her sister and saving the world on a regular basis. Now, her sister was grown, and Buffy herself had been regarded as dead for years. Was she supposed to go back to school? Was she still the Slayer?
Tara excused herself after a couple of hours, saying that she needed to get home to Sophie. "Call me if you need anything at all, Buffy."
Buffy nodded. "I will."
"I'll call you tomorrow," Spike promised. "Dawn's comin' in tonight, an' she'll want to see you."
Tara smiled. "I want to see her, too. We'll have to go shopping soon, Buffy. I know that you probably don't have much."
She nodded, although she wasn't sure where she was supposed to come up with the money to pay for anything. "That would be great."
The silence that fell after Tara left was anything but comfortable. "You okay?" Spike finally asked.
"I'm fine."
He hesitated. "I have some errands to run. You gonna be okay here by yourself?"
Buffy drew herself up, managing to put on an affronted expression, even though she felt unaccountably nervous at the idea. "I am the Slayer, Spike."
"Right." Buffy thought she saw a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'll be back in time to get Dawn from the airport. You know where the TV is at?"
Buffy hadn't noticed that he had a TV, and some of her puzzlement must have shown on her face, because Spike pointed at what Buffy had assumed was a painting. "Haven't gotten the voice activated remote yet," he told her. "Dawn keeps giving me a hard time about that. Remote's in the drawer of the coffee table; you'll be able to figure it out from there."
Spike was gone a moment later, and Buffy wondered at his attitude. He'd seemed a little cooler, or maybe it was just that he had no idea what to do with her.
Buffy had no idea what she was going to do with herself, so she couldn't hold it against him.
She found the remote and flipped on the television, relieved that it was just as easy to figure out as Spike had promised. Television had changed astonishingly little in the last twenty years, and when she found a station that seemed to run "old" television programs, Buffy found herself right at home.
She did her best to get lost in the old reruns of Friends, thankful to have something familiar. Maybe she should go out patrolling soon; Buffy had the feeling that Spike would be more than happy to accompany her, and it might help.
Anything to feel like the world made sense again.
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