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
Christmas Eve had been about the only time of year that Buffy ever stepped inside a church, and that had only been when she was younger. Her mom had stopped going after they'd left L.A., although Buffy had never been quite certain why. Her suspicion was that Joyce had associated the Christmas Eve service with family, and it just wasn't the same going as a single mother of two girls.
Church was something that Tyler's family had always done, however, and Dawn explained that Buffy didn't have to go with them, although she was welcome. Xander and Anya weren't going, mostly because they weren't speaking to one another at the moment; Buffy had overheard part of their fight earlier that afternoon, and she knew that it had something to do with finances—and her.
From what Buffy had picked up, Xander had wanted everyone to come to Dawn's for Christmas, and Anya didn't think they'd had the money. When Anya had said, "It's Buffy, isn't it, Xander? It was the same way before she died; Buffy always came first. You have a family to consider now."
She'd fled at that point, feeling the flush in her cheeks, equal parts anger at Anya for her misplaced blame and at herself for hoping that things would be different. For hoping that the years wouldn't have destroyed her connection with her friends.
Time seemed to erode things, though, like water over stone, until there was nothing recognizable left behind.
Buffy had gone to the Christmas Eve service with Dawn and her family just to escape from the others; Willow wasn't going for obvious reasons, but Giles had agreed to accompany them. It felt like a family affair that way, and Buffy relaxed for the first time in days.
If she was going to be honest with herself—and it seemed to be in her best interests to do so these days—Spike's rejection had stung. At least, that's what it had felt like. After that evening in the cemetery, the long, slow kisses that had kept her warm despite the chilly air, Spike hadn't said much to her. In fact, when she'd gone out to say goodbye, he'd brushed her off.
Buffy had no idea how to interpret his actions. On the one hand, all evidence seemed to point to the fact that he still loved her, even after all these years; on the other hand, Spike was distant at times, cold even.
And yet he'd taken care of her, had offered her a place to stay, a place to go if things didn't go well with the others. She had no idea how to translate his actions into plain English, and no desire to talk to anyone else about it. Not even with Dawn, who might have understood.
The Christmas Eve service was much like the ones she remembered attending as a child. There were the familiar carols that she'd heard while growing up, the Christmas homily about the real meaning of Christmas, and treating others with love. About coming home.
Buffy resolutely choked back tears at that idea. She didn't have a home, not anymore. That truth was becoming clearer with every day that passed.
"Did you enjoy the service?" Dawn asked in an undertone, sounding anxious.
Buffy understood Dawn's concern. Her sister wanted her to be happy, to enjoy herself, to partake in the traditions that they'd created for their family. Dawn wanted Buffy to feel as though she belonged with them. Buffy loved Dawn for it, but it still didn't make things easier. "It was nice," she managed with difficulty, although she meant it. "It reminded me of Mom."
"Yeah," Dawn said, blinking back tears of her own. "It's too bad she couldn't be here." Dawn glanced over at Tyler, who was patiently helping Kyle with his coat, even as Giles held a sleepy Joy. "She would really like him, don't you think?"
"Mom would be so proud of you," Buffy replied. "She would love this."
Dawn grabbed her in an embrace. "Thank you, Buffy."
Buffy took a deep breath and reminded herself that it wasn't about how she felt right now. This holiday was for Dawn. This was about making Dawn happy.
Buffy could figure out what to do with the rest of her life just as soon as the holidays were over.
~~~~~
"Have you called her?"
Spike scowled at Tara. "No. Told Dawn I'd call on Christmas, an' I will."
Tara rolled her eyes. "She would probably appreciate hearing a friendly voice, Spike. From what you've told me, Buffy's struggling."
"She's fine," he insisted. "She just needs to get back in there. Havin' me around isn't goin' to help."
Tara raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure this is about Buffy? Or is it more about you?"
"What the bloody hell are you goin' on about?" Spike snapped. "She's with her friends, isn't she? Should make her happy. It's what she wanted."
"She wanted the comfort of the familiar," Tara corrected him gently, and her refusal to become angry with him only exacerbated his bad mood.
"An' that's what I am?" he demanded. "So I'm to let her use me 'til she gets her feet under her, then let her walk away? I didn't wait twenty soddin' years for—" He broke off, realizing that he'd said too much.
Spike hadn't waited for Buffy; he'd known she wasn't coming back. It was more that there had been no one who could compare to his memory of her. He'd fed off of his guilt and his promise for two decades, and now that was done, wasn't it?
Buffy was back, and Dawn was safe. He'd fulfilled his purpose.
The dawning realization on Tara's face told Spike that she'd managed to read between the lines. Bloody buggering hell.
Tara sighed. "Who told you that? Because I'm pretty sure that Buffy wouldn't have."
"No one," Spike growled. "Figured it out for myself."
"I'm not buying that, Spike," Tara shot back. "I saw Buffy with you. There's some feeling there."
Spike was spared from having to argue with her by the appearance of Yvonne and Sophia. "I hope you've got the hot chocolate ready," Yvonne said cheerfully. "Because we are frozen."
"Comin' right up," Spike replied, careful to keep all emotion out of his voice. "Marshmallows or whipped cream, Sophie?"
"Marshmallows," Sophia said precisely. She'd just learned how to pronounce it correctly, and she was very intent on sounding grown-up at this stage. Spike thought it was adorable, although he'd never admit to it.
"That's my girl." He pretended not to see the significant looks that Tara exchanged with Yvonne. "How was the singin'?"
"It was fun," Sophia replied. "But one of the other girls tripped and fell, and then the other kids laughed at her."
Spike handed her a mug. "But you didn't."
"No. She's nice, so I helped her up." Sophia sighed. "I wanted to make the rest of them trip, but I didn't."
"Good call, sweetie," Tara said with a smile. "You know we've talked about how magic isn't to be used to hurt other people."
"Yeah, but..." Sophia stopped. "Yeah."
Spike shook his head, grateful that he wasn't the one charged with raising the budding witch. If the early indicators were accurate, Sophia was going to be quite the force of nature. "I'd better get goin'," he said. "Don't want to keep anybody up past their bedtimes."
Sophia's eyes went wide in protest. "But Spike, it's Christmas Eve! I'm allowed to stay up to midnight!" She looked at the clock to double check. "There's two whole hours to go!"
Spike caved in the face of that argument; Sophia had him wrapped around her little finger, as did the rest of the children, and they knew it.
Well, except for Xander's boys. Spike hadn't spent any time with either of them.
By the time he got home, it was well after midnight, since he'd stopped to kill a few vampires on his way. He still needed the spot of violence before bed.
Spike had found himself missing Buffy's company while out, however, wishing she was with him. They'd spent a bare few weeks with one another, but it had been enough to whet his appetite for more and cement his affection.
He smiled wryly at the euphemism, even in his own head. It was more than simple "affection."
If it hadn't been so late, or if Buffy had had a phone of her own, Spike probably would have tried calling, whatever his own personal resolutions were. Dawn and Tyler would never forgive him if he woke up the kids, though, and he didn't really want to talk with anyone other than Buffy.
Actually, what Spike wanted was to be face to face with her again, to do things a little differently this time. To tell her that he wanted her, to ask if she wanted him. That would likely have to wait until after Christmas, when she came back to Sunnydale.
Assuming that Buffy came back to Sunnydale. If she did, Spike could probably assume that her feelings for him went beyond her need for a security blanket.
~~~~~
Buffy knew that Willow and Xander wanted to talk to her alone; they kept trying to get her to go out with just the two of them. Although she knew that she couldn't make excuses forever, Buffy planned on putting their confrontation off for as long as possible. Dawn seemed to be supporting her avoidance tactics, because she didn't hesitate to back her up every time Buffy claimed that they had prior plans.
Christmas day passed with a minimum of chaos. Everyone seemed bent on having a good time, and at least pretending that all was well. Buffy was really good at pretending, and she joined in with a will.
It was late afternoon when Spike called. He talked to Dawn, who had been the one to answer the phone, then spoke to Tyler, Kyle, and Joy in turn. Finally, Tyler handed the phone to Buffy. Wanting to get away from prying eyes and ears, Buffy retreated from the living room onto the back porch. "Hey."
"Hey," he replied. "Merry Christmas, Buffy."
"Merry Christmas."
There was a long silence. "You been enjoyin' yourself?"
"Yeah, sure, why wouldn't I?" Buffy asked, striving for a light tone. There was no way she was going to reveal that she'd missed him, particularly after their parting exchange. If Spike wanted to pretend that they hadn't kissed, that there wasn't anything between them, Buffy would let him. "How's your Christmas been?"
"Pretty quiet," Spike admitted. "I'll go over to Tara's soon as the sun goes down."
"That's good," Buffy said lamely. "That should be fun."
There was another pause. "When you plannin' on comin' back to Sunnyhell?" Spike asked.
Buffy smiled at his old nickname for the town. "I don't know. Probably before New Year's. Xander's leaving tomorrow, and Willow's leaving the day after. I know Dawn wouldn't mind if I stayed a little longer, but I don't want to impose."
"You wouldn't be an imposition," Spike said. "I'm sure she'd tell you the same."
"She already has," Buffy replied. "Still, I know they've got their own routine."
"Well, long as you want to come back here."
"I do, I think," Buffy said quietly. "It's home, more than anywhere else is."
She wanted him to say something, to give some indication that she'd be welcome there. Buffy wanted Spike's assurances that everything was going to be okay, that everything would make sense. Sometime over the last few weeks, Spike had come to represent an anchor.
While Buffy knew just how insane that was, she had twenty years' worth of evidence to back up that conclusion. That's how long he'd spent carrying out the wishes of a dead woman.
"It'll be good to have you back."
Buffy smiled. That was what she had been looking for. "Yeah. So, I'll see you in a few days?"
"Let me know when you're flyin' in, an' I'll make sure someone is there to pick you up if I can't come," Spike promised.
Buffy agreed, then said a final farewell with a sigh of relief. Somehow, knowing that she was going home in a few days made it all just a little easier to bear.
~~~~~
When Willow suggested that Buffy go out to breakfast with them the next morning, just the old gang, before Xander had to leave, she knew she was going to be facing an intervention. She knew that expression on Willow's face, but there didn't seem to be a graceful way to refuse. Buffy already knew what this was going to be about—her going back to Spike and Sunnydale.
And pretty much in that order, too.
Xander and Willow waited until their order arrived before beginning the confrontational part of the morning. Buffy wondered what their waitress saw in the three people sitting around the small table—a couple and their adult daughter? Or did she see three friends, in spite of the age difference? Or did she even care, given how busy she was, with every table in the restaurant full?
Buffy took a bite of her eggs and remembered that Spike had made eggs that first morning she'd woken up at his place.
"Have you thought about what you want to do next?" Willow asked in that tone that Buffy so despised. The tone that said Willow advised young coeds all the time and Buffy ought to be grateful that she was taking the time to advise her.
"No," Buffy said simply. "I thought I'd take my time figuring it out."
Xander frowned. "You're still going back to Sunnydale, though?"
"It seems as good a place as any to do my figuring," Buffy replied. She was trying to keep the conversation light—she really was. Buffy didn't want her time with her friends to end in anger, or in a fight.
What she wanted was for them to simply be happy that she was still around, however miraculous that might be, and then to give her the time and space to decide what her next step would be. They weren't the ones who had to live this new life of hers, after all.
Willow sighed. "Xander and I have been talking, and we don't think that's necessarily a good idea."
Buffy barely managed to keep a handle on her rising anger. "I don't think it's your decision to make," she said tightly, reminding herself to stay calm. "I'm the one who came back twenty years into the future. I'm the one who doesn't fit here anymore."
"But we've been around," Xander replied. "We know things about Spike that you don't."
"What?" Buffy demanded. "Tell me something I don't know that would convince me not to go back to Sunnydale."
"He's still a vampire, Buffy," Willow replied. "And he doesn't have the chip anymore."
Buffy hadn't known that, although she'd wondered. Spike hadn't said anything, and neither had Dawn, and given what he'd spent his time doing, it didn't seem all that important. "Anything else?" she asked impatiently.
"Just because he's the only one who hasn't changed doesn't mean you can count on him, Buffy," Xander said bluntly. "He's still into you, and what do you want from him? Stability?"
That question hit her hard; Buffy honestly didn't know what she wanted from Spike, but there was an element of truth to Xander's words. Spike represented the familiar the way no one else did, and Buffy craved that right now.
"That's not the only thing, Xan," she replied. "Spike was great after I showed up again, and he's got room for me. It makes sense."
"You're using him, Buffy," Willow corrected her gently. "It's okay. Everyone understands that this is really disorienting, but you can't keep going to Spike. He'll start to think that you feel something for him, and he'll expect a real relationship."
Buffy wanted to protest that she didn't know that she didn't want a real relationship with Spike, but something stopped her. She knew that would be the wrong tack to take with her friends. They still saw her as they had when they were young. Xander and Willow saw the Slayer, the shining example of goodness and light.
"That's not all it is," she said uncomfortably. "Besides, Spike hasn't indicated that he wants anything from me. You guys could be wrong. I asked him to take care of Dawn, and he did. Maybe it isn't anything more than that."
Willow and Xander shared a conspiratorial look that did more to cause Buffy to feel like an outsider than anything else had so far. They were supposed to be her best friends; Buffy was supposed to be one of them.
Had she ever been one of them?
"What are you going to do when you do decide what to do?" Willow asked. "What if you go to England? Do you really think that Spike's going to follow you? It's better not to get attached. You need to stand on your own two feet."
Buffy wanted to protest that she'd always been alone; in the end, the Slayer was always alone, and this conversation was driving that fact home.
But what did she really know about Spike's feelings for sure? He appeared to be content in Sunnydale; he had his own business, Tara and her little family was there, and Spike was close to them. He'd given her mixed signals about his feelings for her. And although Buffy knew she'd said she was going back to Sunnydale, maybe it would be better to get away from everyone for a while, to decide what she was going to do without anyone interfering with her decision.
Spike had seemed willing to give her that space, but maybe they were right. Maybe Buffy was leaning on him too heavily. The problem with depending on someone else was that they inevitably let you down.
"You're right," Buffy said quietly.
"Good," Xander said. "So, where are you going to go?"
"You could come to New York," Willow urged. "I could probably pull some strings and get you admitted into NYU."
"I don't think so," Buffy said. "I think I need to make my own decision on this one, guys."
Xander frowned. "But where are you going to go?"
"Somewhere I can be alone," she replied, smiling. Buffy hadn't had a vacation in—well, she'd never really had a vacation. It was about time she took one.
Willow didn't look happy. "You'll let us know where you're going, right?"
Buffy shrugged. "I'll let you know what I decide." She wasn't about to promise any more than that, no matter how alarmed they appeared to be by her decision.
"Are you sure that's a good idea, Buffy?" Xander asked. "Maybe you should—"
"You were the ones who told me I needed to make up my own mind and go it alone," Buffy said, steel in her tone. "You were the ones who told me not to rely on Spike. Well, I'm not going to rely on Spike, or anyone else. This is what you wanted, and now you're getting it."
"We didn't mean not to rely on anybody," Willow objected.
Buffy sighed. "Look, guys, I know you mean well, and I appreciate the advice, but you're not the ones who went back to the future. You don't know what I'm going through, and you don't know what Spike has done for me. Maybe I'm using him; I don't know. That's something I need to figure out, but I'm going to do it on my own, because that's what I am."
Buffy smiled wryly. "I'm the Slayer. I've always been alone. I guess that's the way I'll always be."
She changed the subject then, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Her decision had been made. "So, what are you guys doing for New Year's?"
For the first time ever, Buffy knew that she didn't have to be anything to anyone anymore. Giles had given her the freedom not to be the Slayer; Dawn didn't need her older sister to raise her. Her friends had their own lives, and they could get along quite well without her. Buffy could decide for herself what she wanted, who she wanted to be.
Buffy had choices, and she had no idea what to do with them.
~~~~~
Giles stared at her in concern. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," Buffy replied quietly. "I need some time away, Giles, just to figure out what I want."
He sat down next to her. Buffy had gone to his hotel room as soon as they'd taken Xander and Anya to the airport. Dawn had been right, about Xander being both the most miserable and the happiest person she knew; whatever tension there had been between the two of them the day before, it had dissipated, and Buffy would have thought that she'd imagined Anya and Xander's fight.
Particularly since Anya had bid her such a warm goodbye. "You should come see us sometime, Buffy."
"I'll try," Buffy had replied, although she hadn't made any promises. She wouldn't be visiting anyone in the near future.
"Don't be a stranger, Buf," Xander had said.
Buffy had hugged him, then each of the boys in turn. Mason hadn't minded, but Walt had escaped from her embrace as quickly as possible.
She'd gone to Giles immediately, knowing that Willow would push her harder, would pressure her to reconsider the stand she'd taken. If Buffy was certain of nothing else, she knew she didn't want to be pushed into doing anything.
Buffy couldn't see beyond the next few weeks, and she didn't want to. She first had to figure out if she still wanted to be a Slayer; only then could she decide if she wanted to do something else with her life.
"I understand," Giles said, bringing her back to the present. "I take it your time with Xander and Willow was difficult."
Buffy sighed. "I think they remember someone who doesn't exist, Giles."
His face softened. "You may be right, Buffy."
She looked away. "They don't want me to go back to Sunnydale."
"I don't think it would be a bad thing to go back to Sunnydale," Giles assured her. "It may be that the familiar gives you the stability you need to make a decision."
"What if that's wrong, though?" Buffy asked him. "What if I shouldn't take that from—" She stopped, not wanting to reveal too much.
"From Spike?" Giles asked. "It's natural to seek the comfort of the familiar, Buffy." He gave her a sympathetic look. "I went back to England after your death, both because it was too difficult to stay, and because England offered something I needed."
Buffy appreciated the fact that Giles called it her "death." Maybe she hadn't died, but the principle was the same. Her friends and family had mourned her at least. "But England is a country," she pointed out. "England wouldn't be upset if you decided you didn't need it anymore."
Giles nodded, acknowledging her point. "True. If this is what you want, Buffy, I'll certainly do all I can to help you."
Buffy nodded. "This is what I want, Giles. I'll still call you and Dawn, just so you know I'm okay, but I don't want anyone following me."
"Do you think they will?" Giles objected. "Surely they know better."
"That's the problem," Buffy said matter-of-factly. "They think they know better. Willow wants me to think about college, and Xander just wants me to promise that I'm never going to see Spike again. I never got the chance to find out what I wanted before, and now I have a chance to do so."
"Fair enough." Giles stood, putting his hands on her shoulders, their weight familiar and steadying. "I'll arrange everything, Buffy."
"Thank you, Giles," she said quietly, hugging him.
She felt his arms come around her, smelled his familiar aftershave, and realized that Giles really hadn't changed a bit. Maybe he'd gotten a little better at letting her go over the years, but that was it. He was still Giles—her Watcher.
"You'll call me if you need anything?" he pressed.
"I promise," Buffy said. "You—you won't tell anyone where I am?"
Giles nodded, obviously reluctant to promise, but he seemed to sense how important it was to her. "If that's what you want."
"It is," Buffy said firmly. "I need to be alone for a little while."
She didn't know how long it would take, but Buffy planned on getting it figured out somehow.
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