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 noticed that Spike was especially quiet after they left Dawn's. Giles and her sister had both given her knowing looks when she'd announced her intention to patrol with Spike; they remembered that she liked to kill things when under pressure. She was still action-girl.
She didn't mind the silence; it was actually rather restful after a day filled with baking cookies and helping the kids decorate them. They'd had a different activity every day the last week, and if Buffy didn't know better, she would have thought that Dawn and Willow were conspiring to keep her away from Spike.
Well, Buffy knew that Dawn wasn't conspiring, but she wasn't so sure about Willow.
Spike took her to a cemetery he knew of. "Can't promise vampires, but there might be a few."
Buffy smiled. "That's one nice thing about Sunnydale. You can always find trouble if you want to."
Spike nodded, not replying. They wandered in silence, Buffy keeping her hand on the stake in her pocket. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, sure," Spike said.
She shot him a look. He sounded—angry. "Do you not want to be here?"
He looked at her, startled. "It's fine, Buffy. I don't mind. Was that your question?"
"No. I just—do you know what happened to Angel?"
Spike's face darkened dramatically. "Why do you want to know?"
Buffy was taken aback by his growl. "No reason. It's just that I thought of him the other day when it was snowing. The last time I saw snow, it was with Angel."
Spike shrugged. "Dunno where Peaches is these days. I haven't kept track of him."
"Okay," Buffy said defensively. "It's not a big deal; I just thought I'd ask. He stayed with me the night after we buried my mom, and I—never mind."
"I know."
"You know what?" Buffy asked.
"I know he stayed with you," Spike replied. "Was still keepin' an eye on you."
Buffy somehow wasn't surprised. "Oh."
"If you want to know where he is, I could probably find out," Spike conceded grudgingly. "I'm sure he'd love to see you."
Buffy shook her head. "No. No, I think it would be better if I don't see him again. It's—it would be too hard."
The fact that Angel was a vampire meant that he probably wouldn't have changed much, but Buffy didn't want to test that theory. Plus, she had a feeling that he would strongly disapprove of her relationship with Spike, and she didn't need one more person telling her how bad an influence Spike could be.
What the hell did they think of her, to think that Spike would pull her over to the dark side? Besides, as far as Buffy could tell, Spike wasn't even on the dark side anymore.
"Right," Spike said, shoving his hands a little deeper into his pockets.
Buffy stared at him. Something was really off. "What's wrong?"
"Nothin'."
"Don't give me that," Buffy snapped, feeling more than a little on edge herself. "You were in a good mood earlier, and now suddenly you're all pissy."
Spike sneered at her. "Look who's talkin', Slayer. I'm not the one who's been actin' like a sodding martyr."
To her dismay, Buffy found her eyes filling with tears; so maybe she hadn't been in the best of moods lately, but she'd thought that Spike of all people would understand. His words were like a slap in the face. Buffy did the only thing she could think of: she punched him in the nose, and then she ran.
~~~~~
Spike had forgotten how hard a Slayer could hit when she put her all behind it. Buffy's punch had him seeing stars, and he shook his head to clear it. Touching his nose gingerly, he looked at the blood staining his fingers and ruefully acknowledged that he'd deserved that one. He'd sensed Buffy's edginess earlier, and he'd deliberately pushed her buttons.
It had been a cheap shot, too, since Spike couldn't blame Buffy for being disoriented and out of sorts. She'd been handed a bad hand all the way around, forced to deal with circumstances beyond her control, and thrown into a situation that would try a saint.
Spike cursed as he realized that he had no idea where Buffy had gotten to. She'd run off as soon as she'd punched him—and didn't that bring back memories?
"Bloody hell," he muttered. "You stupid sod."
The snow had melted with the slightly warmer weather they'd had the last few days, and so Spike couldn't track her that way. Instead, he headed in the direction she'd run off, hoping that he could follow her scent.
"Buffy?" he called. There was no response. "Come on, I didn't mean it."
She still didn't respond, but Spike caught the sound of muffled sniffs, and he cursed again. "Buffy?" He followed the sound around a mausoleum and the stone bench on the other side, where she sat, her head bowed and shoulders hunched. "I'm sorry."
"Go away." She sounded angry, but he could hear the tears in her voice as well.
"I didn't mean it."
"Yes, you did. Go away."
"I'm your ride home, pet," he reminded her.
She huffed. "I'll take a cab."
"How are you going to get one here at this time of night?" Spike asked. "Know you don't have a phone on you."
Buffy turned to scowl at him. "Were you just pissed off that I asked about Angel? Because I'm sorry, Spike, but he is my ex-boyfriend. Just because we can't be together doesn't mean I don't care anymore. I'll bet you feel the same way about Drusilla."
Spike sat down next to her, facing the opposite direction. "Wasn't that, really. I was just in a bad mood, is all. It's nothing to do with you."
Buffy looked away from him. "Who are we kidding, Spike? We both know that I don't belong here."
Spike swallowed. "Buffy, you got a right to be upset. It's gonna take time, but—"
"But what?" she demanded. "But I'll get used to feeling like a stranger in my own life?" She shook her head. "I don't want to be here."
Spike was beginning to get alarmed. "Buffy—"
"I should be dead," she murmured. "Maybe it—"
"No!" Spike gave her shoulders a little shake. "Don't you dare, Slayer. You ever think that maybe you're back for a reason?"
Buffy's eyes were wells of despair, her pain so apparent that Spike could taste it. "Yes, I have, and that's what scares me."
Spike kissed her hard, his mouth angry and demanding, forcing her to respond to him. Instead of pushing him away as he'd half-expected, she drew him closer, her fingers gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands easing their grip on her shoulders to splay on her back. They made out like teenagers in the darkness of the cemetery, surrounded by death even as Spike was trying to get Buffy to embrace life.
He was well aware of the irony.
When Spike finally pulled away, it was with the knowledge that it was growing late, and if they didn't head back soon, the others would worry. Worry or wonder, depending on the source. Spike didn't much care what they thought of him, but he didn't want to make things harder on Buffy; she was already under enough strain.
"We should head back," he said.
"I guess." Her voice was quiet, pensive.
She was still holding onto him, one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping his jacket. Spike was reminded of Willow's comment earlier, that Buffy was only holding onto him as a security blanket, and he pulled away abruptly. "Come on."
There was a flash of hurt in her eyes, and then her face became impassive, her expression inscrutable. "Let's go, then."
They walked back to his car in silence, Spike still cursing himself. He hated himself for being Love's Bitch, even after all these years, hated that he couldn't let her go. At the same time, Spike hated himself for not asking her to go somewhere with him, just the two of them, to escape together. He had no doubt that she would go in her present state of mind, and yet he couldn't bring himself to ask.
If Buffy left now, it would be to escape, not because she wanted to be with him. Selfishly, Spike wanted to make her choose. For years, the Scoobies had implied that he was second best, that if Buffy had been around, she would have kicked him to the curb posthaste. Spike wanted to make them eat their words.
He didn't want validation; he wanted revenge.
"Look, Buffy," he began, as they reached the car. She looked up at him, hope flaring in her eyes. Spike didn't know what she was hoping for. "Since tomorrow's probably goin' to be busy with Xander and Anya comin' in, if I don't get a chance to say it, merry Christmas."
She smiled at him, but Spike got the sense that it was forced. "Thanks, Spike. Merry Christmas to you, too."
She was about to get in the car, and Spike knew he couldn't leave it there, the weight of the moment hanging like a stone. Buffy was there, standing right in front of him, and very obviously not running away. "Buffy." He waited for her to look at him. "Meant what I said. You need a place to go, the room is yours."
Her smile seemed a little more genuine the second time around. "Thank you."
They made the drive back to Dawn's in silence, and Spike let her off in the driveway. She half turned as she was getting out, looking at him over her shoulder. "I—" She stopped, and for a moment Spike thought that she was going to tell him something, something important. Instead, she murmured a goodnight and headed inside, leaving Spike to wonder if he'd just missed his opportunity.
~~~~~
Spike hadn't been too far off the mark; the next day was incredibly busy. Dawn had sent Willow off to the grocery store for her, and Willow had roped Buffy into going along, saying that she could use Buffy's strength to carry the groceries.
Buffy hadn't felt like she could refuse, since that would seem rude. By the time she got back from the grocery store, it was time to go to the airport to pick up Xander, Anya, and their kids.
She was more than a little wary of seeing Xander again, particularly since getting reacquainted with Willow was turning out to be a lot more disappointing than she'd anticipated. All Willow wanted to talk about was her own life—not that Buffy blamed her for that. After all, Buffy's news was nothing Willow hadn't already lived through. It was just that Willow would start talking about her research, and Buffy's eyes would glaze over, since Willow's description bore a lot of resemblance to some of her more boring college classes.
If she had to tell the truth, Buffy didn't really care whether certain chemicals both prevented sleep and yet allowed a person to feel rested. Sure, it might prove handy in her slaying, but Buffy didn't care how that sort of thing worked, only that it did.
Hearing about Willow's research was better than facing the questions that seemed to pop up during every conversation, about where Buffy was going to live, if she was going to go to school, if she'd thought about what she was going to do with the rest of her life.
Buffy wasn't even supposed to have a "rest of her life," so it was still a little hard to contemplate her future. She couldn't help but wonder if Xander was going to do the same thing.
Xander was easily recognizable; he was holding the hand of a little boy about Kyle's age, who looked remarkably like his father. Anya brought up the rear, talking to a sullen boy who looked to be about thirteen.
Xander's eyes widened as he saw Buffy. "Buffy!" Still hanging onto his son's hand, he reached for her, wrapping her in a bear hug. "You look great!"
Buffy smiled. "That's what I keep hearing."
"This is Mason," he said, looking down at his son, who waved shyly. "He's six. Walt's with Anya." Xander winced. "He's not real happy about being here for Christmas. There was some party he wanted to go to."
"Hello, Buffy," Anya greeted her. "I'm sure that everyone has said you don't look any different."
"Pretty much," Buffy agreed. "Hi, Walt."
Walt was silent until his mother elbowed him sharply. "Hey."
"Be polite," Xander warned him, turning to give Willow and Dawn hugs. "How are you guys?"
Getting their bags was an exercise in patience as Anya took charge of Mason and Xander tried to cajole Walt into helping out with the suitcases. Buffy finally took pity on her old friend and hefted one of the bags easily. "It's really too bad you aren't strong enough to carry these, Walt," Buffy said cheerfully.
Unwilling to be bested by a girl, Walt grabbed the next bag, and Xander mouthed, "Thank you."
Buffy still remembered what it was like to deal with a teenage Dawn, not to mention all the boys she'd gone to school with. She'd never met a boy, particularly a teenage boy, who liked to be shown up by a girl, no matter what her age was.
Between all of them, they managed to get the suitcases and the kids into Tyler's SUV. Walt had immediately fished his earphones out of his suitcase, shutting the rest of them out. Mason was complaining that he was hungry in a loud voice. Anya assured him that they would eat just as soon as they got to Dawn's house.
Xander shrugged apologetically, looking over at Buffy. "Pretty chaotic, huh?"
"No more so than the Hellmouth," Buffy murmured.
"Yeah, those were the days," Xander replied longingly.
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Apocalypses?"
"They've got nothing on a teenager," Xander responded. "Trust me."
Buffy smiled, but she had to wonder. Although being a parent was tough, no question about it, she had a hard time believing that it was worse than being the Slayer.
Things were no less frenzied when they got to Dawn's. Kyle was thrilled to see Mason and Walt, while Walt was obviously less than excited about having two more little kids hanging around him. Joy wouldn't leave Tyler's arms, no matter how many funny faces Xander pulled; Anya loudly announced that she was tired of listening to Walt whine about traveling, and if he did it again, he'd spend Christmas in the hotel room alone. At which point, Xander tried to play peacemaker, only to end up with both of them angry at him.
Buffy was embarrassed for Xander after that very public spat between him and Anya and his son. It was obvious that things weren't great between them, and that there was a great deal of tension that seemed to follow them like a black cloud, everywhere they went. Buffy was forcibly reminded of her parents shortly before they got divorced.
She slipped out in the midst of the confusion to stand outside on the back porch. Buffy had remembered to grab her jacket this time, and she stood, just watching the cloud her breath made in the cold air.
"Sorry about that," Xander said, slipping out the door.
Buffy shrugged. "It's okay."
"How are you?" he asked.
She wasn't sure how to answer that question. There were moments of happiness, of course—playing in the snow with Kyle the first day she'd been in Portland, or making out with Spike in the cemetery—but most of the time Buffy felt as though she was hanging on by the skin of her teeth. Everyone was so happy to see her, though, she didn't feel as though she afford honesty.
"I'm hanging in there," she finally said, deciding that it was closest to the truth.
Xander nodded. "I guess it had to be pretty disconcerting, huh?"
"Something like that," Buffy replied. Then, wanting to test the waters, she said, "I was glad that Spike was still in Sunnydale. I don't know what I would have done otherwise."
Xander shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Spike hasn't—tried anything, has he?"
Buffy frowned. "Xander, I'm still the Slayer. Spike isn't going to try anything with me."
He grinned. "Yeah, that's true. Spike is still into you, though. Willow and I were worried that he might take advantage of you while you were still disoriented."
"He's been a perfect gentleman," Buffy said cheerfully, trying to hide the sinking feeling in her gut. She'd hoped that at least one of her friends wouldn't attempt to convince her that Spike was out to take advantage of her. Didn't they remember what had happened the last time Spike had come onto her? She'd taken care of it on her own.
Her feelings about the vampire may have changed, but that didn't mean her competence had.
"That's good," Xander said. "It's good that you ran into him. I mean, I don't know how you would have found anybody otherwise."
Buffy nodded. She'd thought of the same thing, and she was glad that Xander could see that much at least. "How are you, Xander?"
"I'm good," Xander replied with a shrug and the same goofy smile he'd used to mask his hurt back in high school.
"Really?" Buffy pressed.
Xander met her eyes. "It sucks to get old, Buf. Be glad you haven't had to deal with that yet."
Buffy swallowed the flash of anger. There was no way for Xander to possibly understand how difficult this entire situation was for her. She couldn't take out her own unhappiness on him, and she didn't feel like trying to make him understand. "How long are you guys staying?" she asked, changing the subject.
He looked apologetic. "We've got to leave the day after Christmas. There's a job that I've got to get back to, and Anya doesn't have much vacation time either."
"That's fine, Xan," Buffy replied. "I know you guys have your own lives now."
"You should really come visit," he urged. "We'd love to have you."
Buffy nodded, but only said, "Maybe so. I haven't really decided what I'm going to do yet."
Xander looked at her, alarm in his eyes. "You're not going to stay with Spike, are you?"
"I haven't decided," Buffy replied. "I don't know if I should stay in Sunnydale or not."
"But you're not staying with Spike," Xander pressed.
Buffy shook her head, but it was in annoyance more than anything else; she'd let Xander interpret the gesture however he wished.
~~~~~
Dawn cornered Spike just before it was time for him to leave for the airport. "What's going on, Spike?"
"What are you talkin' about?" he snapped, already out of sorts. Spike hadn't been able to get near Buffy all day. If Willow wasn't monopolizing her attention, it was Xander or one of the kids. He wanted to be sure that they were okay, that she wasn't angry at him for the night before.
He was fairly certain that she'd enjoyed their snogging as much as he had, but it was hard to say for sure. Maybe she had enjoyed it, but more for the escape he'd provided than because Buffy wanted him.
Dawn held up her hands in surrender. "Okay. Never mind."
Spike sighed, grabbing her arm as she turned to walk away. He didn't want Dawn angry with him just before he left, particularly not knowing how long it would be until he saw her again. "'m sorry, luv. This hasn't been the easiest of trips."
"Just tell me if Buffy's doing okay," Dawn said. "I don't know. She's not talking."
"There's too much goin' on," Spike pointed out. "You remember how Buffy is. Long as there was somethin' she had to take care of, she could ignore the fact that the whole world was goin' to hell."
Dawn frowned. "Yeah, but you were out with her last night. Surely you guys talked, or you got some idea of how she's really doing."
"She's holdin' it together," Spike said. "An' that's about it. I think she's going to break soon, but I can't tell you when it'll be."
Dawn nodded. "That's kind of what I thought." She gave him a sharp look. "What did Willow say to you?"
"What?" Spike asked. He hadn't thought that anyone else had overheard that conversation.
"I saw her coming out of the kitchen, and then you came out," Dawn said. "I know she said something; what was it?"
Spike shrugged. "That's between us, Bit."
"No." Dawn's eyes were flinty. "This is my house, Spike, and I warned her to leave you alone or she'd find herself heading back to New York earlier than planned."
Spike didn't like the idea of Dawn coming to his rescue. He was the one who was supposed to protect her, and not the other way around. "We had words, but it doesn't matter, Dawn. 'm leavin' today anyway."
"I want to know what she said," Dawn pressed.
Spike was adamant. "No, Bit. It's between us."
"It's not going to keep you away, is it?" Dawn asked. "Or change things with you and Buffy?"
He shook his head. "Told your sister she had a place with me if she wanted one. That's not gonna change."
"Then things are okay with you two?"
"Fine." Spike frowned. "Why do you ask?"
"Because every time you look at her, it's like it's going to be the last time you see her," Dawn said. "She told me that she was going back to Sunnydale after Christmas."
Spike shrugged. "Never know. Plans change sometimes."
Dawn shook her head. "Maybe," she allowed. "You should probably say goodbye. Tyler said he wanted to leave in a few minutes."
"We already said our goodbyes," Spike replied. "'sides, she's with the Scoobies an' Rupert, catchin' up."
Dawn opened her mouth to argue, but she just rolled her eyes. "Fine. Call me on Christmas."
"Sure thing, luv."
Spike was loading his suitcase into Tyler's car when Buffy came running out to the driveway. "What? You were going to leave without saying goodbye?"
"We said it last night," Spike said, glancing at Tyler. "We gotta go."
Buffy stared at him, and Spike could see the disappointment in her eyes. "Yeah. You don't want to miss your flight. Merry Christmas, Spike." She turned and stalked back into the house.
"Very smooth," Tyler commented.
"Shut your gob," Spike snarled, angry at himself. He'd have given his right arm for Buffy to give him the time of day before she'd jumped into that portal, and now she seemed to be actively seeking him out, and he couldn't be arsed to speak a few kind words.
He couldn't help but think that maybe this was better. If Willow had been right, and Buffy was using him as a security blanket, it would be better not to get his hopes up. She'd be fine, and so would he. Spike had survived without Buffy for a long time; he could continue on with his life without her no problem.
That was the story he was sticking to, anyway.
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