147

(Chapter 1)

 
 AUTHOR: Taramisu
 WRITTEN: 6/03
 E-MAIL: taramisu1@yahoo.com
 SUMMARY: Taramisu's Official Post-Chosen Fic
 RATING: R
AUTHOR NOTES: Thank you to my sterling beta, Jac.  Without her, I suck. 

“Maybe he’s not gone, Buffy.”

Buffy lifted her pounding head from his shoulder.  “What?”

“Maybe they’re not really gone.  They’ll live on in our hearts now.”

She gave Xander a faux dirty look.  “That was the lamest, cliché-est thing you’ve ever said.”

Despite their grief, they smiled at each other, then Xander pulled her a little closer.  “I’ll tell you this.  There’s no way in hell I’ll try to bring her back – no matter how much I miss her." 

They fell silent and let the sound of the tires hitting the pavement fill in the quiet spaces left by their thoughts.

Willow and Kennedy shared a seat, holding each other and whispering from time to time.  The new Slayers stared out the window in contemplation.  Dawn was sound asleep, snoring in a cute, cat-like manner.  She had been asleep since her body hit the fake leather, completely dead to the world.

Xander used the time to convince himself that Anya was at peace, while Buffy – didn’t quite know what to think.  Everything was different now.  She had lost yet another man she loved.  Only this time, she had no job, no purpose to fill her days.  No slayage to consume her thoughts and energies.  Just a busload of brand new Slayers, and old, tired friends.  No destination in mind.  No homes.  No source of income.  Just this stupid, yellow bus.

“We all live in a yellow school bus.  A yellow school bus.  A yellow school bus.  We all live…”

And Andrew was not making it better.

“…in a yellow school bus.  A yellow school bus.  A yellow…OW!”  The boy automatically brought a hand to his sore head as the unidentified weapon rolled under the seats.

While the yellow school bus filled with laughter, Buffy’s eyes filled with tears.

“It’s okay, Buff.  He’ll be fine.  He has an unusually thick skull."

“Spike…Spike…”

He stared at her, unable to comprehend this train of thought.

“It’s just…Spike would have been the first to smack him.  He would have told him to ‘shut the bloody hell up,’ then thrown his lighter at him.”

At this, she resumed bawling, leaving a slightly bemused, but mostly worried Xander.  He gently patted her shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  I’m sure Spike’s spending eternity smacking annoying people in some paradoxical vampire Heaven.”

This gave her pause.

“You never know.  Anya could be up there running Heaven’s gift shop.”  He continued in falsetto.  “Thank you for visiting, oh celestial beings.  Halos are to your left, and wings to your right.  Please remember to purchase one of our solid gold harps.  They are available only while supplies last!”

She laughed through her tears, then lay her head back on his shoulder and sighed.

“Xander?”

He closed his eyes and lay his head on hers.  “Yeah?”

“Do you really think he made it?”

“To Heaven?”

“Yeah.”

Xander took a deep breath, noting how soft and feminine this warrior smelled.  “I…I don’t know.”  He felt her stiffen a bit.  “I mean, he died to save us.  And not just us, the whole world.  Plus, the soul, right?”

She slowly nodded, unconvinced.

“Think about it.  They wouldn’t really want the jerk in Hell.  He’d give the devil a run for his money.  And Satan?  Not really big on the competition thing.”

After giggling, Buffy responded.  “Does the devil really have money?  What is there to buy in Hell?  Asbestos suits?”

“Iced tea.”

From the back of the bus where she had been scratching graffiti into the back of the seat, Faith suddenly spoke.  “Where are we goin’, Watcher?”

Giles glared at her in the bus’s rear-view mirror.  “We’ve discussed this several times, Faith.”

“Yeah, but I…”

Buffy drowned out the discussion as her mind began to tackle the question that was sticking in her craw.  She had seen Heaven herself.  She had heard about Hell from Angel.  So, where would Spike end up?  It seriously pained her to consider him in the bad place.  Or, maybe it wasn’t one or the other.  Maybe there was some middle of the road dimension where he could play kitten poker and smoke his eternity away.

“We cannot take a busload of teenagers there, Faith!  Can’t you…”

Or, perhaps…oh, who was she kidding?  There was no way to tell what had happened to Spike’s soul.  Buffy shivered at the notion.  His soul.  Now that his body was gone, there was still something left of him.  A piece that could live forever.  Couldn’t it?

“Albuquerque?” Faith suggested.

“Just don’t take that left at Albuquerque.”  Everyone stared at Andrew and his smile faded away slowly.

And if anyone would know, or could find out, it would be someone with a lot of experience with souls and demons with souls.  Maybe someone with a good background in the supernatural.  Someone who could do a bit of magical prodding.  Giles?

“Cleveland?”

Naw.  He’d lost all his books and his home base.

“We’re not driving to Cleveland in a bloody school bus!”

Who else?  Who else?

Buffy sprung out of her seat, dislodging Xander and surprising the entire group.  “L.A.!”

They all stared at her.

“Angel has a hotel with empty rooms.  We have lots of people to house.”  ‘And Wesley has lots of researchy-type books,’ she added silently.

“Are you sure, Buffy?”

She looked solemnly into Giles’ reflection and said, “Yeah.  I’m sure.”

**************** 

They had to backtrack a bit, but no one minded.  The promise of a soft bed and warm shower kept them all at peace for the extra three hours it took to get to the Hyperion.  Only Andrew was a getting a bit antsy.  He could swear that new red-haired Slayer was eyeing him, about to chuck another item at his head.

Introductions were made once they walked through the impressive front doors.  Everyone met Fred and Wesley and Gunn, while the AI group met…everyone.  Or, at least, they met the ones whose names Buffy could remember.  At this point, she wasn’t even sure what her sister’s name was anymore.  She just wanted a long shower and 8 or 9…days of sleep.

Giles and Wesley shook hands and continued off to the corner to engage in what had to be geeky Watcher conversation.  Gunn, taking a shine to all the pretty young things, took them upstairs to assign rooms. 

“Angel will be back later tonight.”  The one named Fred smiled impossibly big while she addressed Buffy.

Buffy ran her hand down her face, trying not to cry again.  She hadn’t really thought that far ahead.  She would have to face Angel sometime if she was living in his hotel.  Duh!  Another side effect of lack of sleep, she assumed.

Noting her lack of response, Xander answered for her.  “Thanks, um, Fred, is it?”

“Yes, it’s Fred.”

Out of pure curiosity, Xander had to ask.  “Fred?  Is that short for Fredwina, or Fredette?  Ooh!  You aren’t the founder of Fredericks of Hollywood, are you?”

She smiled even bigger (how did she do that?!) and looked at the ground, giggling in an incredibly geeky manner.  “No.  Actually, it comes from Winifred, as it was my Great-Grandmother’s name.  She was the first of the Burkle women to discover the complexities of the micro…”  Xander had quickly lost interest in her babbling and noticed the gaunt shadow of hunger in his friend.

“Can we get Buffy something to eat?  I don’t think she’s had a thing in, what?”  He looked over at Buffy.  “At least 3 days?”

“I’m not hungry.  But you…you go ahead.”

Xander’s face fell slightly.  “Naw.  Not hungry either.  Think I’ll just take the bed part of the bed and breakfast if you don’t mind, Fred.”  Xander didn’t think he could eat a Ho-Ho if Fred unwrapped it and hand fed it to him.  Now he knew he was depressed.  “Just pick any room?”  he asked Fred.

She seemed a bit disappointed in not being able to finish her lecture on the family legacy.  “Um, yeah.  Sure.  Just don’t take 213 or 147.  We seem to have some, um, plumbing issues in those.”

“Thanks.”

And, with that, Xander started up the stairs, carrying his every possession in the world:  one set of clothing and 22 years of memories.

He paused and turned to Buffy.  “You comin’, Buff?”

“Yeah.  Just need to talk to Wesley for a sec.  I’ll see you in the morning, okay?  Well, I’ll see you some morning soon.”

Xander gave a little smile and a wave, then ascended the stairs.

Before she could turn to find Wesley, Dawn suddenly hopped into Buffy’s personal space.  “Hey!  Wanna be roomies?”

Buffy tried to smile.  She really did.  “What makes you think I would subject myself to your tossing and turning all night long?  No thanks.  Been there, done that.  Besides, there’s plenty of rooms to go around.” 

“Yeah, but I thought…you know…we could talk about…stuff.  You know.  Like, how we kicked those ubervamps’ asses, and the First Evil…”  She threw some fake punches into the air.

Buffy reached out and gently restrained a flailing arm.  “We’ll talk.  I promise.”  On her sister’s disbelieving look, she continued, “Really, really promise.  Just need to sleep first, k?”  She then gave Dawn a sad smile.

But her sister couldn’t just leave it.  “I thought you’d be happier, Buffy.”

Buffy looked at her with confusion.

“Come on!  We did it.  We saved the world.  And not just from some skanky Goddess, or a power tripping Mayor.  We saved it from the First Evil itself.  Don’t you think there’s a little celebrating that needs doing here?”

“It’s good, yeah.  We did great, but there was a price.  A price too…”  She let that thought fade away as it caused too much pain to vocalize yet.  Amanda, Chloe, Belinda, and so many others she couldn’t even remember.  Then there was Anya.  Sweet, amazingly generous Anya, with her perky smile, and sharp wit…and now she knew she was starting to lose it.  But, yeah.  She would miss Anya.  Greediness and all.  She wouldn’t miss the inappropriate discussions of Xander’s penis, but she would miss the ex-demon.  But, in the end, it all came down to Spike, the man who loved every fiber of her being.  Being the dimwit she always was, she didn’t figure out that she returned that love until too late.  So, not only did he die to save the world, but he died thinking he was unloved.  And whose fault was that?

Dawn thought about her sister’s unfinished sentence.  “A price too…”  High?  Great?  What price?  Sure, they knew that some would die.   She mentally counted off the people who had been missing on the bus.  They had only lost, what, 8 or 9 of the Potentials?  And Anya, of course.  But, they had saved the world.  Surely a few people wasn’t too great a price.  She studied her sister’s long face for a moment.  Then it hit her like a ton of bricks.  Spike wasn’t here.  She looked around the room frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of him and his white head.  No Spike.  Had she seen him on the bus?  Well, she hadn’t really seen anyone on the bus, she was so busy sleeping the sleep of the dead.  Was he there outside the Sunnydale limits where they all had gathered?  A lump formed in her throat as the realization of his demise became clearer.  She had made such a point of pretending he didn’t exist for the last year that she never even bothered to look for him after the mêlée.  Oh, God.  Spike.  Spike was gone.

“Buffy?”

Her name broke Buffy from her trance.  “Yeah?”

“Spike.”  Dawn asked the next question very slowly.  “Where is he?”

Buffy’s face didn’t so much as twitch.  She was a stone-faced warrior at that moment.  “He’s gone.”

“Gone?  As in moving onto another town, gone?”  Dawn knew better, but it felt good to pretend just for another second or two.

“Dust.  Dawnie, he’s dead.”

Dawn began to cry.  Buffy put her hand on her back and rubbed slowly.  “How could I not have noticed, Buffy?  What kind of person am I?  It’s been 6 hours, and I never even noticed!”  She was screaming now, and attracting the attention of yet another member of the AI staff.

“Whoa, whoa!  Hold off on the ear-bleeding-screeching!”  A green demon appeared at the top of the stairs, a drink in one hand, and his other hand on his ear.

Buffy ignored the guy, who had to be Lorne, and took Dawn by the shoulders.  “Look.  It’s a great day.  What we’ve done for this world...”  The rest of the inspirational speech fell on deaf ears as Dawn wept for her friend.  At least, he was her friend a time ago…when she had lost the same sister who was standing before her now. 

“But, we could bring him back, right?  I heard they did it with that Darla vampire.  Why can’t we bring him back too?”

Buffy’s heart broke seeing Dawn like this.  She wanted so badly to join her in her tears, but felt an obligation to be the stoic one.  “We can’t do that, Dawnie.  They did that to me, remember?”

At that, they both began to weep in each other’s arms.  Willow and Giles came to the rescue, offering emotional support.  After a time, the group hug broke up and everyone slowly made their way upstairs.  Buffy caught a glimpse of Wesley and called to him.  “Wesley?”

He stopped and addressed her with a ruggedness she did not remember him possessing.  “Buffy.  Yes, what can I do for you?”

“I have a question for you that I was hoping you’d be able to help me answer.”  Buffy looked at him with red, swollen eyes and just a hint of desperation.  “It involves something…mystical, I guess.”

“Well, actually, there’s a good chance I might be able to help.  You wouldn’t believe the resources I have now.”

Completely uninterested in the details, she proceeded.  “It’s a question about souls and the afterlife.  Is there a way to find out…”

“Buffy!”

She turned at familiar voice to see Angel standing in the doorway, still holding the doorknob.

“So, how did things go?”  Angel asked, not knowing if he really wanted the answer or not.

She swept her arms around the hotel in a grand gesture.  “Well, world’s still here, right?”

Angel bowed his head and smiled a bit.  “Yeah.”  After a moment, he regained eye contact.  “So, what brings you to our fair city?  You could have just called, you know.  Didn’t have to drive all the way out here in your school bus.  That is your school bus out front, right?”  His voice harbored a hint of teasing, but Buffy wasn’t in the mood for it.

“That’s the thing.  There is nowhere to call from.  Sunnydale’s gone.”

“Gone?”  Angel and Wesley exclaimed in unison as they exchanged a look of surprise.

“Didn’t Giles tell you?”  Buffy couldn’t understand how this was a surprise for Wesley.

“Um, no.  He wasn’t very forthcoming with the details.  Everyone sort of begged off the question for sleep.  So, what do you mean, gone?”  Wesley leaned in toward her.

Buffy took a deep breath.  “Gone as in rubble.  Sink hole.  It’s all destroyed.  The demons, the Hell Mouth…” she added on more quietly, “everything.”

Immediately, Angel approached her and took her in an embrace.  “Wow.  I mean, wow.”

Buffy gently pulled herself free and looked up into Angel’s eyes.  “So, we’ll be needing a place to call home until we can find something else.  Do you mind?”

Buffy living here, in his home.  It was a dream come true.  “Well, of course!  Anything of mine is yours.  You have to know that.”

“I know.  I just thought it would be polite to ask.”

As Angel searched her face, he noticed a certain air of loss.  Something was wrong.  Something more than just the loss of her hometown.  But he knew better than to push this girl for information.  If she had something to hide, no one would get it out of her.  The woman was like a steal trap.  However, there was one little detail that he was terribly curious to hear about.

“So.  How’d that amulet work out for Spike?”

Buffy struggled for a moment with what to say and how to say it.  This was the new Buffy, right?  Emotions and all.  No more bottling it all up until she exploded.  She had to remind herself of that.  Being like Spike didn’t come naturally to her at all.

“It worked perfectly.”  A lone tear ran down her cheek.

His suspicions were confirmed.  She had given it to Spike to wear.  She had chosen him as her champion.  And what’s worse, it worked.  What did that mean for him, now?

“Then why are you crying?”

“Spike.  He’s dead.”

“Yeah.  He’s been dead for over a century.”

“That’s not funny, Angel.  He’s gone.  He’s dust.”  At that, a few more tears escaped and made their way down her face.

The two men moved in to give her some sympathy, but she would have none of it.  She pushed them aside, and left to go upstairs.  All Angel and Wesley could do was watch her stomp away.

“Well…that was unexpected,” the ex-Watcher said to his vampire companion 

“Shit.”

“That about covers it.”  Wesley scratched his 4-day-old beard.

“That…that would have been me.”

“Yes.”

“I thought I was meant to be the champion at the End of Days.  I was so busy being a jealous ass that I didn’t see…”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe he’s dead.  I can’t believe he had a soul.  I can’t believe he had her in the end.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Not really, no.”

Suddenly, a terrifying thought occurred to Angel and he turned to Wesley, eyes wide.  “You don’t think that he’ll be the one to…Shanshu, do you? 

“What?  There’s nothing here to indicate that the prophesy has been fulfilled.  In fact…in fact…” But Wesley had no more assurances for Angel.  It would be research-mode for him tonight, that much he knew.

*****************

Buffy picked out a room and headed straight for the bed, now in full weeping mode.  She had really screwed up royally.  No, the Powers had screwed up.  “What is it about my life that makes you guys say, ‘Hey!  Let’s make her suffer’?  I’m allowed to put my life on the line for every damn person on this planet, but I’m not allowed to have five minutes of peace?  All I want is to have what everyone else has.  No, not a normal life, just some happiness.  I’d like, for once, to love someone and not have to kill him in the end.  Is that too damn much to ask for?!”

Buffy grabbed the nearest breakable item and smashed it against the wall.

******************

“But, if he is the one to Shanshu, shouldn’t he be human now?”  Angel asked Wesley.

“Well, you know that prophecies are tricky things to interpret.  If the prophesy is in play here, perhaps it means ‘to die’ as I first thought.”

“Yeah, and this wouldn’t be the first time you screwed up a prophesy interpretation.”

Wesley just stared at him in confusion.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

Before he let it slip, Angel caught himself.  Of course Wes had no memory of that prophesy.  Connor didn’t exist to him.  “Oh, nothing.  Just thinking aloud.”

Wesley let it go, but still regarded the vampire suspiciously.

*******************

A very blonde man stood amidst a sea of clouds.  They spread out forever in every direction.  He looked around, confused as he could be.  A voice suddenly came from behind, and startled him 

“William?  My sweet William?”

It was Mother.

“Holy shit!”  Spike stared into his mother’s eyes for the first time in 123 years.

“William James Walthrop.  You mind your language!”

She was more beautiful than he had remembered.

“Now, give your old mother a hug.”  She held her arms out for him.  Without pausing to contemplate the situation, he hurried to her, embracing her with all the love he still felt.

“That’s my dear boy.”  They hugged for what seemed an eternity before she nudged him back to gaze at him.  “Let me look at you.”  Anne Walthrop studied the man before her with an appreciative grin.  “As handsome as the day I lost you 123 years ago.”  They smiled at each other.  “But, that hair, William.  That hair is simply atrocious.”

He gave a little chuckle as he bowed his head and ran a shaky hand through the bleached locks.

***********************

147 hours.  It had been 147 hours since everything she knew had been flushed down the proverbial toilet bowl of life.

In the last 6 days, Giles had single-handedly managed to return each of the new Slayers to their rightful homes.  When asked where he found the money for the plane tickets, the man had simply spoken in long-winded cryptic phrases, thereby boring Buffy enough to put her off the question.  ‘What is it with English men, anyhow?’ she haphazardly wondered, completely forgetting that one third of the Englishmen in her life had not acted this way.

One of the more cryptic conversations with Wesley had almost ended in violence.

“Well?  What do you think?”

“Spike’s soul, huh?  Where do I think it might have gone after he turned to dust?”

“Yes, Wesley.  That’s the question.  I’ve rephrased it a dozen times.  Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, of course not.  I was just hoping to be able to give you better news, but…”

Buffy stood and glowered over the man.  “What better news?”

“Oh, nothing.  Just a prophesy, which may or may not have been translated correctly.”

Wesley’s evasiveness was not something Buffy was prepared to deal with.  He obviously knew something that he was neglecting to tell her.  Perhaps even something he knew before she gave that gaudy piece of jewelry to Spike in the first place.  She grabbed him by his collar.

“If you don’t tell me what you’re trying not to tell me, I swear I’ll…I’ll…” She flashed back to the night in the alleyway where she beat Spike to a pulp.  This wasn’t the Buffy she wanted to be.  Wesley wasn’t a demon she needed to pump for information.  He was a friend. She let the man go, closing her eyes then sitting down heavily next to him.  “I’m sorry, Wes.”

“It’s okay.  I understand.  You had feelings for him, he’s gone, and you just want some answers.”

In her moment of weakness, she temporarily forgot the defensive wall she routinely erected for times such as this.  “I had more than feelings for him.  I loved him.”

How the hell did that come out?  What would Wesley think of her?  Loving yet another vampire.  She waited for the scolding, the shunning, the…whatever other ‘S’ word that meant something bad.

Instead, Wesley reached out and laid a hand on hers.  “It’s pretty obvious.”  And he smiled at her – a sad little smile that conveyed…empathy?  They sat quietly for a while as Buffy took in his kindness and he remembered the woman he wasn’t supposed to love.

“Anyhow!”  His exclamation woke Buffy from her reverie.  “The Shanshu prophesy.”  He had her full attention.  “I didn’t want to tell you about it, as it may only serve to give you false hope.  And I can see from your face that you’re getting all excited.  Don’t.”  Her previous smile fell and was replaced with her standard issue ‘mope face’.  “There was a prophesy about the vampire with a soul and the End of Days.  Of course, until recently, we assumed it was about Angel.  I mean, who could have even imagined that there would be another vampire with a soul?”

Buffy had to nudge him as he had fallen into some sort of geek trance as he followed his thoughts to a thousand different tangents.

“Oh, sorry.  According to the prophesy, and this is the Cliff’s Notes version, this vampire would fulfill his destiny, then be rewarded with mortality.  He would die, then be reborn.”

Before Wesley could quell the excitement and hope bubbling up in Buffy, it overflowed.  Buffy began to cry tears of joy.  “Oh.  My.  God.  Oh my God.  Oh my God!”  She stood suddenly.  “Dawn!  Xander!  Wil…”  Wesley yanked on her arm to bring back to reality.

“But, it never happened.  That’s why I didn’t tell you.  It hasn’t happened and I don’t think it’s going to happen.”  She stared at him in shock.  “Perhaps it refers to a different battle, a different time period.  I mean, we’ve certainly not seen any sign of his rebirth.  Buffy.  I don’t think it will happen for Spike.  You have to accept that he’s gone forever.”

She continued to cry, only tears of pain now.  Her hands covered her face as she rested her head in them.  “Well, what about his soul?  Can you find out if he’s in a good place?”  Now she looked at him through wet eyes.  “Is he happy?”

Wesley considered this query for several minutes, while listening to her quiet whimpers.

“I don’t know.  I can’t even imagine a way to discover this information.  But if I had to offer my best educated guess, I’d say, yes, he’s in a good place.  You can’t change yourself completely and save the world by giving your life without earning some substantial brownie points from the Powers That Be.”  His warm smile did little to help Buffy in her grief.  Now she would have to start the process over – try to have faith that he was in a good place.

Once she had committed to moving on, she was able to begin rebuilding her life.  The remaining Scoobies were able to use L.A. as a home base, yet simultaneously set up shop in Colorado.  Buffy found herself a job as a security guard near Denver.  Her original instinct was to shy away from Slayer-related jobs, but this really would bring her the best monetary security that she could hope for with no formal education.  She enrolled herself in classes at the local community college, looking to become a counselor for teens.  She and her friends had laughed at that.  Getting the education after getting the career, they said.  But that job at Sunnydale High had been fake.  She truly wanted to do that job, and do it well.

Dawn enrolled in the local high school and she was looking forward to meeting some new friends and proving to herself that she could and would have a normal life.  No more vampire dates, no more ghosts in the bathrooms.  She was psyched.

Willow and Xander, having no ideas of where to go, decided to tag along with Buffy to Colorado as well.  Willow and Kennedy got themselves an apartment and part-time jobs.  They also intended to complete their educations.

 Xander had to applaud Buffy on her choice of location.  There were acres and acres of farmland in a growing area, which meant lots of construction work to be done.  He found it easy to land a job.  It wasn’t the best job, but he knew that he would be able to advance in no time.  Heck, he had more experience than anyone else his age.  After all, he had lived on a Hell Mouth with Slayers who constantly needed house repairs.

 Once all the “I”s were dotted and “T”s were crossed, the day finally came to say goodbye.  There were hugs all around and promises to keep in touch.

“Let me know when those cookies are done baking,” Angel said with a gleam in his eye.

Buffy suddenly choked up.  Hanging onto that last image of Spike bathed in pure light, she took a deep breath and sighed.  “They are.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the Hyperion.

Chapter 2