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The Butterfly Effect	By : cousinjean Category: > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 27632 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The Butterfly Effect

by cousinjean

*

Chapter Eleven

***

He let her out a few blocks from the cemetery, then went to meet Mudge alone. He took his time getting there, giving her a chance to catch up. They walked a fine line. Too much time would make the demon suspicious.

The graveyard was deserted-not exactly guaranteed conditions in Sunnydale. Spike supposed being able to pop into the future and scout around had its advantages. He found, though, that he'd developed a distaste for knowing what was coming. Mudge could keep his special powers.

"You're late!" Mudge called as Spike approached a row of crypts.

"What, you're runnin' out of time? Deal with it. Not like the money was that easy to come by." He dropped his duffle on the ground with a convincing (he hoped) thud.

Mudge grinned his toothy, weaselly grin. "You brought it. Good. And you came alone?"

"You tell me. You're the one can see the future."

The tosser laughed. "True. Be stupid to try and pull a fast one on an Adjwic. So. Let's see the cash."

"Let's see the cross."

Mudge held up his satchel.

Spike yawned. "That's not a cross."

Rolling his eyes, Mudge took the cross from the bag and held it up for Spike to see. "It's still enchanted," he reminded. "If the money's all there, I'll remove the ward as soon as I'm at a safe distance."

"Right." Spike scanned the crypts behind Mudge, focusing his senses for some sign of his girl. Nothing. Where's a Slayer when you need one? "So, why'd we meet here? Any special reason?"

"Because the Slayer and her other pet vampire are across town in Floral Haven."

Spike ignored the dig. "Good to know. That's a handy talent you've got there. Tell you what. After all the trouble I went to for the dosh-"

"Yeah, I'm sure eating a bank teller took a lot out of you."

"Still. Don't quite feel I'm getting my money's worth. Give me one more thing and we'll call it even."

"What?""Tell me my future."

"You mean the Slayer's been holding out on you?"

"Pft. Like I believe anything that bitch tells me."

Mudge snickered. "Maybe you're not as lost a cause as I thought. Fine, here's a freebie: Forget the Order of Taraka. They don't do you any favors."

"Taraka? What about them?"

"Sorry, vampire. Any more'll cost extra."

"You little-" A shadow moved behind Mudge and slunk up to the rooftops of the mausoleums. "Fine. Whatever. Let's get this done." Spike kicked the duffel over to Mudge and held out his hands to catch the cross.

"Keep your shirt on," Mudge said, keeping hold of his satchel while he reached for the bag. "Let's see the green first."

"What, you don't trust him?" asked Buffy as she descended upon him from above. "That's just rude."

Mudge lifted his face out of the dirt and spat out a mouthful of grass. "Fuck you, Slayer!" He squirmed beneath her. "You've got your cross, now gimme my money!"

"Oh, about that� you were actually right not to trust Spike. There is no money." She twisted both his arms. "Now undo the spell."

"Get stuffed!"

Spike snickered as he stooped to pick up Mudge's satchel. "Be happy to help you oblige him, Pet."

She smirked up at him, then tossed her hair over her shoulder. "It's in there, right?"

"Yup. All we need's the magic word."

Buffy pulled up on Mudge's arm, making him holler. "Well?"

"Fuck you!"

"Already said that one, mate," said Spike. "Don't think it did the trick."

"You're enjoying this," Buffy accused, squinting up at Spike.

"A bit, yeh." Smiling, Spike shrugged. "Gotta admit, you doin' your Slayer thing's something of a turn-on. So long's you're not doing it to me."

"That last part's a big, fat lie."

"Hey," said Mudge, "if you two want to be alone-""Shut up. No, wait. Don't shut up." She pulled a stake from her back pocket and pressed it into his back. "Tell me how to undo the spell."

"Might as well give it up," said Spike. "This one'll keep at it till she gets what she wants."

Mudge sighed. "Alright, fine, you b-"

He was cut off by Spike's hand clamped over his mouth. Crouching before him, Spike told him, "Watch your mouth or I'll tear your lips off and shove 'em down your ruddy green hole. Understand?"

Eyes threatening to pop out of his head, Mudge nodded.

"Aw," said Buffy, "that was� really disturbingly violent and gross. But sweet in its way."

Grinning, Spike stood back up.

"Anyway." She looked back down at Mudge. "Spell?"

"I need my hand."

"You don't get your hand."

"I can't do the incantation without it."

Frowning, she looked up at Spike. He shrugged. "Fine," she said, and let go one of his wrists.

Mudge lifted his clawed hand and pointed a finger at the bag Spike still held. "Kakarotto!"

Blue and yellow sparks leapt out from the bag. Bolts of mystical energy snaked up both Spike's arms. "Spike!" Buffy had time to cry out before the bolts shot out from him to hit her square in the chest, sending her reeling backwards off of Mudge. Spike stood paralyzed as the little bugger scrambled to his feet and Buffy writhed on the ground.

Mudge sauntered over to Spike. "What was that about tearing off lips, vampire?"

Spike wanted to retort, or better yet, to reach out and throttle the smug bastard and make good on his earlier threat; but he couldn't so much as blink. A moan came from Buffy, and she raised a hand to her forehead.

"There's my cue to make like a tree. I'll take that."

Mudge plucked the satchel from Spike's hands. As soon as he lost contact with the bag, his limbs all went limp and he collapsed. Buffy was getting unsteadily to her feet, though, and she stumbled toward them with enough momentum to charge at Mudge and knock him off balance. The demon fell forward, but caught himself and spun around, swinging the satchel at Buffy. She blocked it, grabbed his arm and kicked him in the head. Before Mudge could recover from the blow, Buffy brought a knee to his gut and an elbow down on the back of his head. He wheezed and spit up blood, but he still held on to the bag. He took a swing at her. She caught his arm and snapped it in two. That got him to let go the bag, and it fell to the ground as he howled in pain. Buffy kicked it away from him and stood back, panting.

"We could've done this the easy way," she said. "But it's only gonna get harder until you undo that spell."

Cradling his arm, Mudge just looked up at her and smiled. Laughing through teeth stained with his own blood, he became see-through. Buffy lunged and went straight through him. By the time she turned around, he was gone.

"Damn it!" She moved to kneel beside Spike. "You okay?"

The feeling was starting to come back in his limbs, and he flexed a hand experimentally. "Give us a sec'." He tried to push himself up. "This sort o' thing a big part of what being a white hat's like?"

She smiled ruefully as she helped him sit up. "At least it's seldom boring." She crawled the few feet to where the bag lay and gingerly reached out to poke it. When nothing happened, she grabbed it and pulled it back into her lap before opening it. She reached inside, yelped, and jerked her hand out again. "Shit. I hoped he was bluffing."

"No such luck. I s'pose he's in next week by now."

"Or last year. Or� or any time he wants to be. We won't find him if he doesn't want to be found."

"Still," said Spike, reaching a foot over to toe the bag. "We got the cross. I'm calling it a win."

Buffy sighed. "For all the good it'll do us. Man, I hope Ethan was lying about not being able to remove the ward." She got to her feet and held her hand out to him. "Think you can stand?"

He nodded, clasped her hand, and let her pull him to his feet. He was a bit wobbly and had to lean on her for a moment, but then the dizziness passed. "Can't say I'm disappointed you have to stick around a bit longer."

She smiled. "Can't go anywhere till I get the book, remember?"

"Yeh." Spike frowned. "What's all that he said earlier about the Order of Taraka?"

"Huh?" Buffy looked at him, her face blank. Then it dawned on her. "Oh, you mean that goon squad you sicced on me?"

"I sicced� you mean I take out a hit on you with the biggest, baddest assassins the demon world has to offer? Never miss their mark? That Order of Taraka?"

She shrugged. "They missed this mark."

"Yeh, but� why would I do that?"

Both of her eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding, right?"

He held up a pinky. "One, I fight my own battles. I don't hire them out. And two," his ring finger went up, but he just stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head. "I can't imagine hating you that badly."

"It shouldn't be that hard to remember. It's only been a couple of days."

Spike blew out a sigh and looked away. "Feels like a lifetime." He looked back at her. "But you beat them?"

She snorted. "Oh, yeah. Believe me, you're the one on the short end of that stick."

"Well that's comforting."

"Don't worry." She reached out to fiddle with the buttons on his coat. "The Order of Taraka is just one in a long string of increasingly feeble and hopeless attempts to convince yourself you want me dead. None of which work."

"Promise?"

Buffy nodded. "I can safely assure you that I make it through the next six years relatively okay." She gripped his lapel and stared at his chest. "It's after I get back that I'm not so sure about."

Spike raised a hand to her hair. "Buffy�""But, hey." She let him go and stepped back. "If we don't find a way to undo the spell on that cross, this whole conversation'll be moot."

"Right. Guess we're off to see the wizard." He waved a hand in the direction of his car. "After you, Dorothy." He fell in beside her as she started that way.

"So, if I'm Dorothy," she asked after a moment, "what does that make you?"

He laced his fingers through hers. "Tin-man. No question."

"Huh. I was gonna go with Toto, but I guess that works too."

"Fuck you, Slayer," he said, and smiled at her sniggering laugh as he lifted her hand to his lips.

***

Buffy waited in the car, out of sight. She wasn't sure whether that whole thing with Eygon had happened yet, or how well she should know Ethan. She always thought he left town after that incident, so she guessed not very, beyond Evil Costume Shop Guy. Their little exchange back at the shoe store had been one thing; but if she helped to beat him up and take his book and make him fix their cross, he might decide to get a little payback on Teen Buffy when he had her strapped to that table.

So Spike went alone, with instructions not to kill or incapacitate the guy. She watched him go with a sinking feeling, knowing that she was sending him to ensure his own death. She tried to look at it another way. That he was going to make sure they'd get together, get a chance to really know each other. That he was ensuring his own humanity and redemption. That this wasn't about her at all, or them. It was about not undermining his journey.

But why did his journey have to end just as he was getting started?

Blowing out a sigh, she rested her head against the window. She pressed a fingertip to the spot of fog her breath had made. When she pulled it away she left a print, but it faded away, just like that.

Just like tonight.

She missed him already. She'd never really stopped, but� God. The last day with him� the last few hours� being reminded of what they'd had-could have had-only made giving him up hurt that much more. Every time she thought, "Okay, this is the hardest, most painful thing I'll ever be asked to do," she was proven wrong.

And she might have hit her limit this time.

She almost hoped that he wouldn't come back with the book, that Ethan had already sold it, or hidden it away or something. Then she wouldn't have to go back. She knew she couldn't run away with him or anything like that. She'd still have to leave him. But at least she'd still be in a world that had Spike in it.

She was being stupid. She realized that. She knew from experience that she would survive. She'd go back to her life, and Dawn, and she'd go through the motions of living until it felt natural again and not having Spike around started to feel almost normal, and it stopped hurting so much. And then she'd get on with her life, which is what he would have wanted.

Or�

Or what? She didn't know. It felt like there was an answer, something she was missing, floating right in front of her if she could only reach out and grasp it. She thought of every time travel movie she'd ever seen. What about those Back To the Future movies? Didn't those guys send their future selves a telegram? Like there'd be anybody left in Sunnydale to deliver one by then. Besides, what would it say? "I love you. Stop. Really. Stop. Please don't die. Stop." She could just write him a letter, put "Do not open until 2003" on the envelope, but no way would he not read it as soon as he found it. Ditto sending one to herself. Leaving any kind of message, any record of events, was too risky. It could be seen by anybody and cause too much to get changed. Or maybe it wouldn't change anything at all.

She let her head fall back against the head rest and closed her eyes and tried to remember everything Willow told her about time travel and ethics and how it all worked. Of course, this was the same woman who hadn't bothered to come up with a contingency plan in case Buffy couldn't get the book. "Stay out of the way until it's time to come home" wasn't Buffy's idea of-

Oh.

Oh!

She didn't have to go back. What if she just stayed out of the way until� until time to battle the First?

Buffy sat up straight, her heart pounding. Her fingers dug into the car door's handle as she resisted the urge to run and tell Spike what she'd just realized.

That she could save him.

It would mean living in relative isolation for the next several years. And how she would save him� it would probably mean wearing the amulet in his place. But her other self would survive. And so would he.

He would do it for her. No question.

It took Buffy a moment to recognize the warm expanse in her chest for what it was:

Hope.

***

Ethan picked up the remains of a table lamp and tried to stanch the blood coming out of his nose. That had gone about as well as expected. At least he'd gotten out of it without any more broken bones or bite marks. He was relieved that the Slayer hadn't joined in. The vampire was much easier to fool.

A slight change in the room's air pressure told him that he had more company. He turned to see Mudge on the other side of the room, cradling his forearm.

"She broke my arm!" he whined.

"And he broke my nose. Your point?"

"Never said getting the shit beat out of me was part of the plan."

"Oh, did I fail to mention? Yes, well, for future reference, tampering with the Slayer's life usually involves beatings. Just be happy her Watcher wasn't involved."

Mudge righted a fallen chair and sank onto it. "I thought she was really gonna kill me."

"That is her job," Ethan said absently, then noticed Mudge's dejected look. "Oh, come on. You know that the more you put up a fight the more convincing you were. They believe you didn't want them to have the cross. That's the important thing."

"If that's so then how come he got the book and all you got's a bloody nose?"

"Because I have quite the reputation as a coward. It's always served me well."

"Yeah, well. I didn't even give a rat's ass if they got the cross. It's no skin off my snout if they don't get it put back in time."

Ethan sighed. "You know that the timeline must play out as unaltered as possible until it's time-"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it."

"Speaking of which," said Ethan, "you are certain that they�"

"Oh yeah. I could smell 'em all over each other." Mudge snickered. "you shoulda seen 'em in the cemetery. They'd've gone at it right there if I wasn't in the way. Told you they wouldn't be able to resist each other."

"Indeed." Ethan grimaced. "I don't believe I've ever seen such a lovesick vampire."

"And a grief-stricken Slayer all too eager to take a ride down memory lane. Wasn't hard to predict where that'd end up. Still. Kind of a shame the guy has to bite it without ever gettin' to see-"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"What, you know something I don't know?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Wise ass."

Ethan smiled. "Let's just say, the artifacts weren't the only things Spike demanded before he took his leave."

*

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The Butterfly Effect

The Butterfly Effect