ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES
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BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,879
Reviews:
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Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,879
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
CH...CH...CH....CHANGES
CHAPTER 160 – CH...CH...CH....CHANGES
OCTOBER 8, 2009
WEDNESDAY
10:00AM
William knocked softly on the big oaken door, and waited. Momentarily, it opened.
“Hello, William,” Shirley said, nodding for him to enter, and noting that he looked much thinner since she’d last seen him. Of course, Lawrence had told her what he knew of Elizabeth and William’s split. “Come in.”
“Thank you,” he said, stepping over the threshold.
“Have a seat in the living room, and I’ll let Lawrence know that you’re here.”
While he waited, Shirley brought him a cup of tea, and a plate of cookies was placed in front of him. She nodded encouragement to him, so he picked one up, unable to resist.
“You like those?”
“Very much,” he said his mouth full.
“It’s almond-oatmeal. I made them myself.”
“Really, really good,” he said, meaning it.
“William! I see Shirley has you sampling her wares,” he said smiling, as he came into the room.
William nodded then stood up, wiping his hands on the napkin first, before extending it to Lawrence, “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“No problem. Why don’t we go to my office, where we can be more comfortable?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
William shifted uncomfortably in the seat in front of Lawrence’s desk, as he waited for him to come back with some forms for him to sign. Closing his eyes for a moment, he thought back to the last couple of days, which had finally brought him here.
For the first two days, William didn’t leave the apartment, and although he wasn’t sure how long he wanted to stay there, it did afford him a place to sleep, to think things over, a place to call home for now. However, he couldn’t just take the Wittman’s charity without recompense. He also knew he wouldn’t call up Elizabeth, and just ask her for their account numbers. She’d done enough for him; he wouldn’t trouble her this way. Fortunately for him, the duffel bag she’d packed, also had contained his address book, which is how he came to call Lawrence.
William’s eyes flew open, and he sat up straighter as Lawrence entered the room. Settling himself behind his desk, he nodded to William, then handed him a folder; “Please take your time reading this over. If it meets with your approval, I’ll need you to sign on the bottom of pages two and four, and initial it on pages three, and five.
William reached into his breast pocket of his shirt, and discreetly put on his glasses before starting to read the document. He asked Lawrence to clarify a few points; then picked up the pen to sign.
“Are you sure I can’t talk you out of doing this?” Lawrence asked.
William shook his head, as he signed the ‘Quit Claim,’ to his share of the house over to Elizabeth, and half his investments. He’d only let Lawrence talk him into keeping that much, after Lawrence had agreed to draft yet another ‘Last Will & Testament,’ leaving the balance to her in case something happened to him.
“So, it’s legal now?”
“As soon as she signs it as well,” Lawrence said. He had done it in such a way, that William couldn’t just sign it over completely, if she didn’t agree to it.
“I don’t know why I just can’t give her my share of the house,” William said, again. “Isn’t it my right?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just the way it is,” Lawrence said, shrugging. “For the record, William, I don’t agree with what you’re doing. For one thing, you and Elizabeth may get back together, and this will just cause more, unnecessary paperwork for both of you, and the courts if that’s the case. Secondly...I know you don’t want to hear this, but by all rights, the house was yours to begin with, for many, many more years than it was Elizabeth’s. The only reason it was in her name was that we all presumed you were dead. Obviously, that’s not the...
“NO! She...she deserves to have it, more than I ever did. This is my decision!” he said, his voice rising a bit. William wondered what Lawrence would think if he knew that he’d actually been dead, or undead, as it were, for all the years the house had been solely in his name.
Irony, thy name is William Worthington.
“I’m sorry William, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You haven’t, and I apologize for raising my voice. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, Lawrence. I just...I need to do this. I want Elizabeth to have the house; it’s the least I can do for her,” he said looking up at Lawrence in hopes of seeing some understanding.
Lawrence nodded, “Very well. Now, if you’ll just sign these other forms, you’ll be able to have this money put into bank accounts, which you can then access for your own use...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 9, 2008
THURSDAY
4:30PM
“...and make sure that you get the permission forms back from the kids by early next week. The volunteer nurses will be here next Wednesday to immunize everyone, but they can’t do it unless they have a permission slip. I just got back from a meeting earlier today, and I’d like to also tell you that I’d highly recommend that you get one. The CDC is tracking this particular virulent flu, and it promises to be the worse we’ve seen in over 50 years. In China, a half million people have already died from it.”
Heads shot up, “A half million?” Marilyn asked. “Why didn’t we hear about this?”
“I don’t know,” answered Mrs. Carpello, shaking her head. “I think part of it might be that China keeps things like this hush-hush, so as to not deter the tourists, which has become a huge industry in China over the past ten years.”
“I thought I read once, that most strains of flu start there, right?” Lily asked.
“Right, it usually does. Something about the conditions of the rural Chinese living in close proximity to their pigs and ducks helps create the conditions for strains of flu to develop. I can’t remember the details. The problem is that by the time a strain is identified by the CDC, it might be another 6 months to a year before it reaches here, which means that it can be altered by then, making the flu shots not as effective, or obsolete,” Mrs. Carpello said. “Still, we’ll hedge our bets, with what we are offered, and hope for the best.”
Buffy had sat through the meeting, trying to pay attention to the important parts, trying to look like she was interested in the others. Truth was, her mind kept coming back to worrying about William. It had been almost three weeks since she’d left him for Dawns. Two weeks tonight since she’d talked to him from there.
She had just pulled out of the school’s parking lot, when the phone rang. Her heart leapt; it was the time that William usually had called her at the end of her day. She pulled out her cell and looked at the number. Her heart sank; it wasn’t William’s. It was, however vaguely familiar.
“Hello?”
“Elizabeth?” asked a male voice.
“Who is this?”
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. It’s Lawrence; I’m calling about William.”
“What about him? Is he okay? Is he hurt?”
“He’s okay, he’s not hurt. In fact, he came to see me a couple of days ago.”
“William came to see you?”
“Yes, he asked after you.”
“He asked after me?” she repeated, unable to process this unexpected news.
“Yes, he wanted to know if I’d seen you recently, and how you were. I told him I’d only seen you briefly at mother’s the other week.”
“I see,” she said, but she didn’t.
“Um...that’s the reason for my call, there’s some things I need to talk to you about, but not over the phone. Do you suppose you might come down to the office, or should I come up to Julian, if you can’t get away?”
“I’ll come down,” she said, as she headed for the highway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 9, 2009
THURSDAY
6:30PM
SAN DIEGO
“Repeat that again please, Lawrence. Just so I can get this straight,” Buffy said, disbelieving.
“This is the ‘Quit Claim’ to the house, which William has signed. Since you hold it jointly, you also have to sign this, to make it legal.”
“So, I sign this, and the house is just in my name alone again, is that it?”
Lawrence nodded.
Buffy sat back in the chair, looking him in the eye; “I’ll do no such thing! I don’t want the house! In fact, why don’t you draw up the same papers, and ask him if he’ll sign them?”
Lawrence inhaled. Somehow he knew this wasn’t going to be easy, “You mean, you want to execute your own ‘Quit Claim’ to the house, and have William sign off on it?”
“That’s right. He can have the fu...freakin’ house if he wants it!”
“Elizabeth, do you want to know what I honestly think?”
“Let’s have it,” she said, tersely.
“First of all, it’s unethical for me to be a lawyer to both of you, if you’re going to be on opposite sides of some legal issue. As much as I like and respect you, I was William's lawyer for years before he went missing, and his father’s before that. So, I think that if it comes to that, I’d have to advise you to seek other counsel.”
Buffy nodded. “I agree. You were his lawyer first, and you should stay his. He doesn’t...he doesn’t have any familiar people around him right now that he can count on.”
“Secondly,” he continued, “I did tell William, that for the record, I disagree with his doing this at all; giving up his claim to the house. He got quite irate with me, and insisted that you should be the one to keep the house.”
“Idiot,” Buffy said softly.
“Lastly, and here’s where I’m taking off my lawyer hat, and donning my friend one, I think William believes that what he’s doing is in your best interest. I know you’re angry with him, and hurt...but he’s not doing this out of malice. I know that much, so I don’t know what it would accomplish for you to do your own ‘Quit Claim’ except to exacerbate the situation.”
Buffy shook her head, “So, what am I supposed to do then?”
“Legally? Nothing, unless you’re served these papers by the court, then you’re not obligated to come forward to sign them,” he said, as a small smile played across his face.
Buffy quirked a smile of her own at him, as she sat back, “You knew that, didn’t you?”
Lawrence shrugged, “I knew that I could buy some time for you both this way, before something became permanent, and then knowing you both as I do, I’d probably have to go and change it again next month. Still, if he ever seeks another attorney, he’ll find out.”
“I don’t think he’d do that.”
“I don’t either. Also, if he becomes persistent, I’ll have no choice, but to serve you the papers, if you don’t voluntarily sign them. You understand that, right?”
“I do. Thank you for what you did. Or rather, what you didn’t do.”
Lawrence nodded, “Legally, it may not have been the most ethical thing I’ve ever done,” he said, smiling ruefully, as he remembered a few other, not-quite-legal things he’d done for them, at her or his mother’s bequest, “but hopefully, it’ll buy you some time
“How was he? How did he look to you?”
Lawrence thought about it for a minute, “He seemed sad, but resolute, if you know what I mean. He looks like he lost weight.”
“He did? How much?”
“I don’t know, Elizabeth. I didn’t mean to say he looked like he was starving, just thinner. It’s common for people who break up to lose weight,” he said, noting that she had, too.
“Yeah. Other than that though, he seemed okay?”
“As far as I could tell.”
“I don’t know if I’m not supposed to ask you this, but as a friend, not a client...did he say where he was staying?”
Lawrence shook his head; “I was remiss at not asking him. Guess it slipped my mind since I didn’t need to send him anything by mail right now.”
Buffy sighed, “It’s okay.”
“I’ll let you know, if I find out, though.”
“I’m hoping he’ll let me know soon, himself,” she said, as she rose to leave.
“I’m sure he will Elizabeth,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.
Shirley joined Lawrence at the door, as they said their good-byes, insisting Buffy take a container full of the same cookies she’d given to William a few days ago.
“Thanks,” Buffy said, accepting the container, then waving to her when she got into her car.
“Such a shame, such a shame,” Shirley said, sniffling.
Lawrence didn’t reply, just put his arm around her reassuringly.
In all his years on this earth, and as an attorney, he’d become pretty good at predicting which couples would make it, and which would eventually end up on opposite sides of a courtroom. Although, like his father before him, William had been his most mysterious client, he’d sensed as far as Elizabeth went, she’d been the one and only woman for him. Apparently, her feelings for him were just as deep.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure how they’d gone from so close, to this chasm between them now, and each of them seeming just as confused by it as he was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 10, 2009
FRIDAY
9:0
“
“Well Charley boy, guess it’s just you and me,” William said, petting the large, 12-year old, striped tabby, which he’d been given charge of, when unexpectedly, Professor Wittman had to take his wife to Mayo Clinic for a week. The cat purred in response, as he rubbed against William’s leg, anticipating food.
After leaving Lawrence’s house the other day, he’d gone directly to the bank, opening new accounts. He’d then asked the Wittman’s if they would rent the apartment to him.
They’d been reluctant to accept his money. Though deeply embarrassed, he explained to them he’d merely forgotten he had investments, because of the
‘memory loss,’ he’d suffered, and due to the recent events. He assured them that he was quite able to pay them whatever they would like to charge.
“I’ll try to make sure you get fed on time tomorrow,” he told the cat, who was now impatiently meowing as he waited for William to get his canned food opened and into his bowl.
William carefully put the tiny white pill into the food like Ingrid had showed him, and made sure that the cat didn’t spit it out. He could swear after that bite, the cat had given him a dirty look.
“Smart one, aren’t you? Not going to hold a grudge there, are you?” he asked, petting the cat’s back. He grinned as the cat arched its back in response, purring.
“Good to know I’m forgiven Charley,” he said, adding, “even if only by you.”
After feeding the cat, he went back up to the apartment and made out a list of things he needed, if he was going to be living there to make it more...
“More what? More like a home?” he asked himself, pausing as he looked up from his list.
“No, it will never be that, will it?” he said, tensing up, as the pain returned in sharp, vivid contrast to his bland surroundings. Neither, did he care; despite what he might buy to fill it, it would never be a home, only a place to live. Resolutely, he steeled himself to finish the list.
William shivered in the cool fall air as he walked out to his car, making a mental note to also buy some warmer clothes, while out. His sweaters and jackets had been left back at the house, in his haste to leave before Elizabeth had returned. Although he could go there while she was at work and retrieve them, or call and let her know he would be coming by, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It just didn’t seem right somehow; better that he just stay away from her, for both their sakes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He spent the better part of the day purchasing what he needed; then stopped at the local thrift store to look at some used furniture, which he arranged to have delivered the next morning. He also found a few sweaters for himself, plus a good deal on a short, brown leather jacket. Living with Elizabeth for a year had certainly honed his sense of bargain hunting skills, which he appreciated. He was still shocked at the cost of things today, considering the last time he’d truly remembered paying for anything had been over one hundred twenty five years ago!
On his way home, he remembered that he had forgotten to buy a new razor, and stopped at a nearby drug store. Looking over the brands, he tried to remember which his was, there were so many. Finally, spotting the familiar packaging, he started towards the front of the store. As he walked towards the front, he passed through the aisle of hair products. He stopped abruptly, as a picture on one of the boxes caught his eye. It was of a young man sporting very bleached blonde, almost white hair, reminding him of the pictures of himself, which he’d drawn. Picking it up, he looked at the before and after pictures of the originally dark haired man, looking very serious in the before picture, joyous and younger in the after picture, with the injunction - Be a BBB BleachBlondeBabe!“Yea“Yeah, right,” he mumbled, shaking his head to clear it, and started to put it back, but his fingers seemed to not cooperate as they held onto the box, just short of setting it on the shelf.
Standing there for another few minutes, unable to decide, he finally just took the box up to the register, along with the razor, assuring himself he wasn’t really seriously considering bleaching his hair. No, it was just because he felt self-conscious standing there, staring at a stupid box; he could always return it, unused. To his relief, the girl at the register didn’t even glance at the product, or at him, as she rang him up.
On the spur of the moment, he stopped and made one final purchase before going home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10:00PM
After feeding Charley, his evening meal, William had returned to his apartment, hooking up the laptop which the Wittman’s had offered him use of, while he was there. They’d assured him that it wasn’t one they needed, or used anymore, but perfectly good for writing, working, or using the Internet.
He sat crosslegged on the floor, back against the beat-up couch, with the laptop sitting on an upended plastic crate that he’d found on the floor of the closet.
Next to him, was the last thing he’d bought that day - a pint of Jack Daniels.
William felt inept, as the mouse ran all over the screen, just as it had when he’d first learned to use a computer. Finally, he managed a bit of finesse, and after trying a few different combinations, remembered his password, and logged onto the Internet. Out of habit the first thing he looked at was his email. There were only a few new ones, the rest mostly junk mail.
The one that caught his eye though had been written over a month ago from Dawn.
August 5, 2009
Dear William,
Vacation is only a week from now, are you excited? I am. Have you finished the painting you told me you were doing for Buffy yet? I’m dying to see it. Please send me a picture of it. You know how to use Buffy’s digital camera and the computer program, don’t you? It sounded really nice, I’m sure she’ll love it.
Okay, got to go do some stuff, see you in a week!
Love,
Dawn
She had seen him the following week, too. Only not how either of them had envisioned.
His hands shook slightly, as he uncapped the bottle of Jack Daniels, and took a swallow. A coughing fit followed. William got up and went into the kitchen, drinking some water, to calm the burning in his throat and stomach. He then filled a glass with ice, and brought that with him. He poured a couple of shots worth of Jack into that, and then added some water from a bottle.
“Much better,” he said, sampling it.
Taking a deep breath, and another drink of liquid courage he typed, “Vampires, a history of,” into the Google search engine, and started reading.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:00PM
Los Angeles
“Johome ome here!” Dawn yelled towards the bedroom.
“What is it?” he asked, as he walked towards the desk where Dawn was busy doing a research paper for her Ancient Artifacts from Pre-Columbian Times class.
“It’s William, he’s online.”
“He’s online? He’s not home, though, right?”
Dawn shook her head, “No, I just talked to Buffy today. She hasn’t heard anything from him for a few weeks now, unless he came home today, but I doubt it. Besides, if he had, I don’t think he’d be on the computer the first night he was home.”
“So, are you going to IM him?” John asked.
She looked at him, “You think I should? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? What if I say something and it upsets him? What if...?”
“Dawn!”
“Sorry,” she said, “I just don’t know what to say to him.”
“You could start with hello.”
Dawn nodded, “Yeah, that’ll work.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:00PM
SAN MARCOS
William had been reading for an hour, and startled when the computer beeped at him, then saw the IM window pop up.
DSCG: William?
He hesitated, feeling suddenly like a deer caught in the headlights.
WSW: Hello, Dawn.
“It’s him,” she said turning to John. Now it was her turn to feel awkward.
“Well, say something back!” John urged.
DSCG: John’s here with me. He says to tell you hello.
WSW: Tell John hello, too. And thank him for all he did for me.
DSCG: I will
Dawn turned to John, “What else should I say? Should I ask him where he is? Crap, I don’t know what to say to him!”
“Say something! You want me to call Buffy while you’ve got him online?”
“Buffy? Yeah! Wait, no. I don’t know.”
DSCG: How are you? We've been worried about you.
Dawn waited for him to answer, looking back and forth between John and the computer screen.
WSW: I'm sorry; I didn't mean to worry you. I'm alright.
DSCG: That’s what family does – they worry about each other. Whether or not you feel like it right now doesn’t matter; that’s what you are. You’re family, William.
His smile was bittersweet, as he acknowledged Dawn’s ability to cut to the chase.
WSW: I know.
WSW: How is she?
DSCG: How do you think?
WSW: I don’t know, relieved maybe.
DSCG: RELIEVED? Why on earth would Buffy be relieved???
WSW: You don’t know everything, Dawn.
DSCG: I know one thing, she hasn’t stopped caring for you or loving you. Isn’t that good enough?
William took a long drink, directly from the bottle this time; savoring the distraction, as each harsh molecule of the liquor burned its way down his throat.
WSW: It’s me, I’m the one not good enough, Dawn.
DSCG: Or maybe you’re just a coward. Funny, I never took you as a coward in all the time I’ve known you. At least call or write to Buffy and let her know you’re okay. You owe her that much, unless you can’t even muster the courage to do that little.
<><><><><>
“Dawn!” John said. “You think that’s a good idea to tell him that?”
“I don’t care, he’s being an idiot! I’m not good enough, blah, blah, blah...all the while Buffy’s sitting at home with her heart breaking.”
“His is, too,” John said, gently.
“Looks like he’s doing fine from here!” she said, stubbornly.
<><><><><>
“What the...? Bloody hell!” William said, staring at the screen.
<><><><><>
WSW: I’m sorry you feel that way; I never claimed to be anything but who I am. Tell Elizabeth...tell her she needn’t worry, that I’m okay. I’ve got to go.
Dawn watched as William’s name disappeared from her online IM Buddy’s list.
“Shit!” she said. “Shit!”
John shook his head, and put his arms around her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
William staggered to his feet, bottle clutched in his hand as he angrily staring at the computer.
“Coward, am I?” he said, as he paced back and forth.
He walked into the bathroom, and looked at himself in the mirror, “Show you who’s a coward...” he said, as he slammed the bottle down on the sink...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 11, 2009
SATURDAY
9:00AM
“Oh God!” William moaned as he awoke to pounding; both the internal pounding of a hangover that would’ve brought an elephant to its knees, and the external pounding of someone at his door.
Half falling out of bed, he grabbed his pants and pulled them on, then a T-shirt, which had odd streaks and spots of white all over it. He looked at it strangely, but didn’t have time to wonder what happened.
“I’m coming,” he yelled as he came out of the bedroom, then immediately wished he hadn’t, as his own voice made his head pound like a kettle drum.
He opened the door, recognizing the deliverymen from the thrift store, who stood there staring at him with a strange look on his face.
“Um, does William Worthington live here? I’ve got a delivery for him.”
“Yeah, that’s me. We met at the store yesterday.”
The man looked at him closer, “Oh yeah, okay. You look a bit different.”
“Rough night,” William said, sheepishly.
The man raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything, other than asking William to sign the delivery form, then went downstairs to help the other man carry up the furniture.
After the men left, he went into the kitchen, and gulped down half a bottle of water, took three aspirin, then finished the bottle off. The two-thirds drank pint of Jack Daniels was on the counter. He debated whether or not to discard the remainder in the sink, but instead just put it on the top shelf of one of the mostly empty cabinets.
Suddenly, the water hit him, and the realization of not having yet used the bathroom that morning. He practically slipped over a pile of towels on his way in the door, and as he stood there, realized that the towels had the same strange white markings, as did his shirt.
He kicked the towels out of the way, in order to wash his hands at the sink, and as he did, he looked in the mirror.
Shocked, he stumbled back, nearly landing in the tub had he not grabbed onto the side of the wall just in time.
With some effort, he righted himself, then once more looked in the mirror.
Staring back out at William, with newly bleached, platinum white hair was Spike.
“Oh, bloody hell!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 11, 2009
SATURDAY
NOON
Buffy stared at herself in the mirror, wincing at the image she saw looking back. Her eyes looked dull, with bags underneath them; yesterday’s eye makeup half off, half on her face. Her hair looked wild and matted.
“Bed head,” she mumbled, remembering a time when she would’ve been fondly embarrassed by the look that had been caused by her and William’s lovemaking.
Except, then her eyes danced with life; not look like this.
She stopped her self-criticism for a moment, and listened. There it was again, a soft knocking. Heart quickening, she quickly brushed back her hair with her fingers, and grabbed a robe, then hurried to the door.
“Hi Buffy,” Clem said sheepishly, holding out a pot of soup, as the door was flung open.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy sat across from him at the table, like they’d done so many times throughout the years. This time it felt more like when she’d first come to Julian, and Clem had been there to advise her on so many aspects of living out there, as well as lending her his ample shoulders to cry and lean on.
“I sort of figured something was going down with you two,” Clem said, firmly motioning for Buffy to eat another bite of the clam chowder he’d brought over. “I saw William hightailing it down the road a couple of weeks ago, and I never saw him return, though I wasn’t around for a few days.”
“He’s left,” she replied softly.
“I’m so sorry, Buffy. I should’ve come over sooner, I...”
“It’s alright,” she said, reaching across the table and patting his hand, “you didn’t know, plus I know things between us haven’t been exactly...” she looked into his eyes, and shook her head sadly.
“It’s not your fault, Buffy. Heck, it’s not anyone’s fault. William couldn’t help the way he felt about me, after what happened to him,” he said, with a shrug.
“Spike wouldn’t have felt that way,” she said, a hint of defiance in her tone.
“No, he wouldn’t have,” Clem said, looking at her sadly, “but we’re not dealing with Spike anymore, are we?”
She shook her head.
“Do you miss him?” Clem asked.
“Of course I miss him, everyday I...oh, you mean Spike specifically don’t you?” she asked, as she pondered how best to answer such a complex question.
Clem nodded.
“It was easier with Spike, in a lot of ways,” she said, then laughed, “I know, that must sound insane. I mean, at first he was evil, and trying to kill me. Then he was chipped, but still evil -evil, annoying, scheming... Of course, I wanted to stake him most of the time, too. Then, he started trying to do good things, at first just to impress me, but it wound up being much more to it than just that; he'd changed..." she said, her thoughts wandering.
“...There was this predictability to him most of the time, where I was concerned,” again she laughed, “of course, I can probably think of a dozen examples to refute my own statement.”
“I think I know what you mean, Buffy,” Clem said.
“Explain it to me, then.”
“Spike was loyal,” Clem said simply, “and he stuck around those he was loyal to, come hell or high water. His devotion, or how he showed it may not have always been a straight, logical line, but you never doubted it, no matter what.”
“You’re right,” Buffy nodded, and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. She thought of all the reasons that she’d given Spike to walk out and never come back over the years, but he never did, even when he thought she’d never return his feelings.
They were silent for a minute, as they pondered the enigma that had been Spike.
Finally, she spoke, “I thought that the part of him that loved me, the part of him that had those traits had been William. What if it was just the demon? What if it was the demon who never gave up?”
“What if it was?” Clem asked, a puzzled look on his face. “It’s not like us demons can’t love,” he reminded her.
“I know,” she said, “it’s just that if it was the demon who never gave up, the demon who loved me best...then maybe I’ve really lost William.”
END CHAPTER 160
OCTOBER 8, 2009
WEDNESDAY
10:00AM
William knocked softly on the big oaken door, and waited. Momentarily, it opened.
“Hello, William,” Shirley said, nodding for him to enter, and noting that he looked much thinner since she’d last seen him. Of course, Lawrence had told her what he knew of Elizabeth and William’s split. “Come in.”
“Thank you,” he said, stepping over the threshold.
“Have a seat in the living room, and I’ll let Lawrence know that you’re here.”
While he waited, Shirley brought him a cup of tea, and a plate of cookies was placed in front of him. She nodded encouragement to him, so he picked one up, unable to resist.
“You like those?”
“Very much,” he said his mouth full.
“It’s almond-oatmeal. I made them myself.”
“Really, really good,” he said, meaning it.
“William! I see Shirley has you sampling her wares,” he said smiling, as he came into the room.
William nodded then stood up, wiping his hands on the napkin first, before extending it to Lawrence, “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“No problem. Why don’t we go to my office, where we can be more comfortable?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
William shifted uncomfortably in the seat in front of Lawrence’s desk, as he waited for him to come back with some forms for him to sign. Closing his eyes for a moment, he thought back to the last couple of days, which had finally brought him here.
For the first two days, William didn’t leave the apartment, and although he wasn’t sure how long he wanted to stay there, it did afford him a place to sleep, to think things over, a place to call home for now. However, he couldn’t just take the Wittman’s charity without recompense. He also knew he wouldn’t call up Elizabeth, and just ask her for their account numbers. She’d done enough for him; he wouldn’t trouble her this way. Fortunately for him, the duffel bag she’d packed, also had contained his address book, which is how he came to call Lawrence.
William’s eyes flew open, and he sat up straighter as Lawrence entered the room. Settling himself behind his desk, he nodded to William, then handed him a folder; “Please take your time reading this over. If it meets with your approval, I’ll need you to sign on the bottom of pages two and four, and initial it on pages three, and five.
William reached into his breast pocket of his shirt, and discreetly put on his glasses before starting to read the document. He asked Lawrence to clarify a few points; then picked up the pen to sign.
“Are you sure I can’t talk you out of doing this?” Lawrence asked.
William shook his head, as he signed the ‘Quit Claim,’ to his share of the house over to Elizabeth, and half his investments. He’d only let Lawrence talk him into keeping that much, after Lawrence had agreed to draft yet another ‘Last Will & Testament,’ leaving the balance to her in case something happened to him.
“So, it’s legal now?”
“As soon as she signs it as well,” Lawrence said. He had done it in such a way, that William couldn’t just sign it over completely, if she didn’t agree to it.
“I don’t know why I just can’t give her my share of the house,” William said, again. “Isn’t it my right?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just the way it is,” Lawrence said, shrugging. “For the record, William, I don’t agree with what you’re doing. For one thing, you and Elizabeth may get back together, and this will just cause more, unnecessary paperwork for both of you, and the courts if that’s the case. Secondly...I know you don’t want to hear this, but by all rights, the house was yours to begin with, for many, many more years than it was Elizabeth’s. The only reason it was in her name was that we all presumed you were dead. Obviously, that’s not the...
“NO! She...she deserves to have it, more than I ever did. This is my decision!” he said, his voice rising a bit. William wondered what Lawrence would think if he knew that he’d actually been dead, or undead, as it were, for all the years the house had been solely in his name.
Irony, thy name is William Worthington.
“I’m sorry William, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You haven’t, and I apologize for raising my voice. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, Lawrence. I just...I need to do this. I want Elizabeth to have the house; it’s the least I can do for her,” he said looking up at Lawrence in hopes of seeing some understanding.
Lawrence nodded, “Very well. Now, if you’ll just sign these other forms, you’ll be able to have this money put into bank accounts, which you can then access for your own use...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 9, 2008
THURSDAY
4:30PM
“...and make sure that you get the permission forms back from the kids by early next week. The volunteer nurses will be here next Wednesday to immunize everyone, but they can’t do it unless they have a permission slip. I just got back from a meeting earlier today, and I’d like to also tell you that I’d highly recommend that you get one. The CDC is tracking this particular virulent flu, and it promises to be the worse we’ve seen in over 50 years. In China, a half million people have already died from it.”
Heads shot up, “A half million?” Marilyn asked. “Why didn’t we hear about this?”
“I don’t know,” answered Mrs. Carpello, shaking her head. “I think part of it might be that China keeps things like this hush-hush, so as to not deter the tourists, which has become a huge industry in China over the past ten years.”
“I thought I read once, that most strains of flu start there, right?” Lily asked.
“Right, it usually does. Something about the conditions of the rural Chinese living in close proximity to their pigs and ducks helps create the conditions for strains of flu to develop. I can’t remember the details. The problem is that by the time a strain is identified by the CDC, it might be another 6 months to a year before it reaches here, which means that it can be altered by then, making the flu shots not as effective, or obsolete,” Mrs. Carpello said. “Still, we’ll hedge our bets, with what we are offered, and hope for the best.”
Buffy had sat through the meeting, trying to pay attention to the important parts, trying to look like she was interested in the others. Truth was, her mind kept coming back to worrying about William. It had been almost three weeks since she’d left him for Dawns. Two weeks tonight since she’d talked to him from there.
She had just pulled out of the school’s parking lot, when the phone rang. Her heart leapt; it was the time that William usually had called her at the end of her day. She pulled out her cell and looked at the number. Her heart sank; it wasn’t William’s. It was, however vaguely familiar.
“Hello?”
“Elizabeth?” asked a male voice.
“Who is this?”
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. It’s Lawrence; I’m calling about William.”
“What about him? Is he okay? Is he hurt?”
“He’s okay, he’s not hurt. In fact, he came to see me a couple of days ago.”
“William came to see you?”
“Yes, he asked after you.”
“He asked after me?” she repeated, unable to process this unexpected news.
“Yes, he wanted to know if I’d seen you recently, and how you were. I told him I’d only seen you briefly at mother’s the other week.”
“I see,” she said, but she didn’t.
“Um...that’s the reason for my call, there’s some things I need to talk to you about, but not over the phone. Do you suppose you might come down to the office, or should I come up to Julian, if you can’t get away?”
“I’ll come down,” she said, as she headed for the highway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 9, 2009
THURSDAY
6:30PM
SAN DIEGO
“Repeat that again please, Lawrence. Just so I can get this straight,” Buffy said, disbelieving.
“This is the ‘Quit Claim’ to the house, which William has signed. Since you hold it jointly, you also have to sign this, to make it legal.”
“So, I sign this, and the house is just in my name alone again, is that it?”
Lawrence nodded.
Buffy sat back in the chair, looking him in the eye; “I’ll do no such thing! I don’t want the house! In fact, why don’t you draw up the same papers, and ask him if he’ll sign them?”
Lawrence inhaled. Somehow he knew this wasn’t going to be easy, “You mean, you want to execute your own ‘Quit Claim’ to the house, and have William sign off on it?”
“That’s right. He can have the fu...freakin’ house if he wants it!”
“Elizabeth, do you want to know what I honestly think?”
“Let’s have it,” she said, tersely.
“First of all, it’s unethical for me to be a lawyer to both of you, if you’re going to be on opposite sides of some legal issue. As much as I like and respect you, I was William's lawyer for years before he went missing, and his father’s before that. So, I think that if it comes to that, I’d have to advise you to seek other counsel.”
Buffy nodded. “I agree. You were his lawyer first, and you should stay his. He doesn’t...he doesn’t have any familiar people around him right now that he can count on.”
“Secondly,” he continued, “I did tell William, that for the record, I disagree with his doing this at all; giving up his claim to the house. He got quite irate with me, and insisted that you should be the one to keep the house.”
“Idiot,” Buffy said softly.
“Lastly, and here’s where I’m taking off my lawyer hat, and donning my friend one, I think William believes that what he’s doing is in your best interest. I know you’re angry with him, and hurt...but he’s not doing this out of malice. I know that much, so I don’t know what it would accomplish for you to do your own ‘Quit Claim’ except to exacerbate the situation.”
Buffy shook her head, “So, what am I supposed to do then?”
“Legally? Nothing, unless you’re served these papers by the court, then you’re not obligated to come forward to sign them,” he said, as a small smile played across his face.
Buffy quirked a smile of her own at him, as she sat back, “You knew that, didn’t you?”
Lawrence shrugged, “I knew that I could buy some time for you both this way, before something became permanent, and then knowing you both as I do, I’d probably have to go and change it again next month. Still, if he ever seeks another attorney, he’ll find out.”
“I don’t think he’d do that.”
“I don’t either. Also, if he becomes persistent, I’ll have no choice, but to serve you the papers, if you don’t voluntarily sign them. You understand that, right?”
“I do. Thank you for what you did. Or rather, what you didn’t do.”
Lawrence nodded, “Legally, it may not have been the most ethical thing I’ve ever done,” he said, smiling ruefully, as he remembered a few other, not-quite-legal things he’d done for them, at her or his mother’s bequest, “but hopefully, it’ll buy you some time
“How was he? How did he look to you?”
Lawrence thought about it for a minute, “He seemed sad, but resolute, if you know what I mean. He looks like he lost weight.”
“He did? How much?”
“I don’t know, Elizabeth. I didn’t mean to say he looked like he was starving, just thinner. It’s common for people who break up to lose weight,” he said, noting that she had, too.
“Yeah. Other than that though, he seemed okay?”
“As far as I could tell.”
“I don’t know if I’m not supposed to ask you this, but as a friend, not a client...did he say where he was staying?”
Lawrence shook his head; “I was remiss at not asking him. Guess it slipped my mind since I didn’t need to send him anything by mail right now.”
Buffy sighed, “It’s okay.”
“I’ll let you know, if I find out, though.”
“I’m hoping he’ll let me know soon, himself,” she said, as she rose to leave.
“I’m sure he will Elizabeth,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.
Shirley joined Lawrence at the door, as they said their good-byes, insisting Buffy take a container full of the same cookies she’d given to William a few days ago.
“Thanks,” Buffy said, accepting the container, then waving to her when she got into her car.
“Such a shame, such a shame,” Shirley said, sniffling.
Lawrence didn’t reply, just put his arm around her reassuringly.
In all his years on this earth, and as an attorney, he’d become pretty good at predicting which couples would make it, and which would eventually end up on opposite sides of a courtroom. Although, like his father before him, William had been his most mysterious client, he’d sensed as far as Elizabeth went, she’d been the one and only woman for him. Apparently, her feelings for him were just as deep.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure how they’d gone from so close, to this chasm between them now, and each of them seeming just as confused by it as he was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 10, 2009
FRIDAY
9:0
“
“Well Charley boy, guess it’s just you and me,” William said, petting the large, 12-year old, striped tabby, which he’d been given charge of, when unexpectedly, Professor Wittman had to take his wife to Mayo Clinic for a week. The cat purred in response, as he rubbed against William’s leg, anticipating food.
After leaving Lawrence’s house the other day, he’d gone directly to the bank, opening new accounts. He’d then asked the Wittman’s if they would rent the apartment to him.
They’d been reluctant to accept his money. Though deeply embarrassed, he explained to them he’d merely forgotten he had investments, because of the
‘memory loss,’ he’d suffered, and due to the recent events. He assured them that he was quite able to pay them whatever they would like to charge.
“I’ll try to make sure you get fed on time tomorrow,” he told the cat, who was now impatiently meowing as he waited for William to get his canned food opened and into his bowl.
William carefully put the tiny white pill into the food like Ingrid had showed him, and made sure that the cat didn’t spit it out. He could swear after that bite, the cat had given him a dirty look.
“Smart one, aren’t you? Not going to hold a grudge there, are you?” he asked, petting the cat’s back. He grinned as the cat arched its back in response, purring.
“Good to know I’m forgiven Charley,” he said, adding, “even if only by you.”
After feeding the cat, he went back up to the apartment and made out a list of things he needed, if he was going to be living there to make it more...
“More what? More like a home?” he asked himself, pausing as he looked up from his list.
“No, it will never be that, will it?” he said, tensing up, as the pain returned in sharp, vivid contrast to his bland surroundings. Neither, did he care; despite what he might buy to fill it, it would never be a home, only a place to live. Resolutely, he steeled himself to finish the list.
William shivered in the cool fall air as he walked out to his car, making a mental note to also buy some warmer clothes, while out. His sweaters and jackets had been left back at the house, in his haste to leave before Elizabeth had returned. Although he could go there while she was at work and retrieve them, or call and let her know he would be coming by, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It just didn’t seem right somehow; better that he just stay away from her, for both their sakes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He spent the better part of the day purchasing what he needed; then stopped at the local thrift store to look at some used furniture, which he arranged to have delivered the next morning. He also found a few sweaters for himself, plus a good deal on a short, brown leather jacket. Living with Elizabeth for a year had certainly honed his sense of bargain hunting skills, which he appreciated. He was still shocked at the cost of things today, considering the last time he’d truly remembered paying for anything had been over one hundred twenty five years ago!
On his way home, he remembered that he had forgotten to buy a new razor, and stopped at a nearby drug store. Looking over the brands, he tried to remember which his was, there were so many. Finally, spotting the familiar packaging, he started towards the front of the store. As he walked towards the front, he passed through the aisle of hair products. He stopped abruptly, as a picture on one of the boxes caught his eye. It was of a young man sporting very bleached blonde, almost white hair, reminding him of the pictures of himself, which he’d drawn. Picking it up, he looked at the before and after pictures of the originally dark haired man, looking very serious in the before picture, joyous and younger in the after picture, with the injunction - Be a BBB BleachBlondeBabe!“Yea“Yeah, right,” he mumbled, shaking his head to clear it, and started to put it back, but his fingers seemed to not cooperate as they held onto the box, just short of setting it on the shelf.
Standing there for another few minutes, unable to decide, he finally just took the box up to the register, along with the razor, assuring himself he wasn’t really seriously considering bleaching his hair. No, it was just because he felt self-conscious standing there, staring at a stupid box; he could always return it, unused. To his relief, the girl at the register didn’t even glance at the product, or at him, as she rang him up.
On the spur of the moment, he stopped and made one final purchase before going home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10:00PM
After feeding Charley, his evening meal, William had returned to his apartment, hooking up the laptop which the Wittman’s had offered him use of, while he was there. They’d assured him that it wasn’t one they needed, or used anymore, but perfectly good for writing, working, or using the Internet.
He sat crosslegged on the floor, back against the beat-up couch, with the laptop sitting on an upended plastic crate that he’d found on the floor of the closet.
Next to him, was the last thing he’d bought that day - a pint of Jack Daniels.
William felt inept, as the mouse ran all over the screen, just as it had when he’d first learned to use a computer. Finally, he managed a bit of finesse, and after trying a few different combinations, remembered his password, and logged onto the Internet. Out of habit the first thing he looked at was his email. There were only a few new ones, the rest mostly junk mail.
The one that caught his eye though had been written over a month ago from Dawn.
August 5, 2009
Dear William,
Vacation is only a week from now, are you excited? I am. Have you finished the painting you told me you were doing for Buffy yet? I’m dying to see it. Please send me a picture of it. You know how to use Buffy’s digital camera and the computer program, don’t you? It sounded really nice, I’m sure she’ll love it.
Okay, got to go do some stuff, see you in a week!
Love,
Dawn
She had seen him the following week, too. Only not how either of them had envisioned.
His hands shook slightly, as he uncapped the bottle of Jack Daniels, and took a swallow. A coughing fit followed. William got up and went into the kitchen, drinking some water, to calm the burning in his throat and stomach. He then filled a glass with ice, and brought that with him. He poured a couple of shots worth of Jack into that, and then added some water from a bottle.
“Much better,” he said, sampling it.
Taking a deep breath, and another drink of liquid courage he typed, “Vampires, a history of,” into the Google search engine, and started reading.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:00PM
Los Angeles
“Johome ome here!” Dawn yelled towards the bedroom.
“What is it?” he asked, as he walked towards the desk where Dawn was busy doing a research paper for her Ancient Artifacts from Pre-Columbian Times class.
“It’s William, he’s online.”
“He’s online? He’s not home, though, right?”
Dawn shook her head, “No, I just talked to Buffy today. She hasn’t heard anything from him for a few weeks now, unless he came home today, but I doubt it. Besides, if he had, I don’t think he’d be on the computer the first night he was home.”
“So, are you going to IM him?” John asked.
She looked at him, “You think I should? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? What if I say something and it upsets him? What if...?”
“Dawn!”
“Sorry,” she said, “I just don’t know what to say to him.”
“You could start with hello.”
Dawn nodded, “Yeah, that’ll work.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11:00PM
SAN MARCOS
William had been reading for an hour, and startled when the computer beeped at him, then saw the IM window pop up.
DSCG: William?
He hesitated, feeling suddenly like a deer caught in the headlights.
WSW: Hello, Dawn.
“It’s him,” she said turning to John. Now it was her turn to feel awkward.
“Well, say something back!” John urged.
DSCG: John’s here with me. He says to tell you hello.
WSW: Tell John hello, too. And thank him for all he did for me.
DSCG: I will
Dawn turned to John, “What else should I say? Should I ask him where he is? Crap, I don’t know what to say to him!”
“Say something! You want me to call Buffy while you’ve got him online?”
“Buffy? Yeah! Wait, no. I don’t know.”
DSCG: How are you? We've been worried about you.
Dawn waited for him to answer, looking back and forth between John and the computer screen.
WSW: I'm sorry; I didn't mean to worry you. I'm alright.
DSCG: That’s what family does – they worry about each other. Whether or not you feel like it right now doesn’t matter; that’s what you are. You’re family, William.
His smile was bittersweet, as he acknowledged Dawn’s ability to cut to the chase.
WSW: I know.
WSW: How is she?
DSCG: How do you think?
WSW: I don’t know, relieved maybe.
DSCG: RELIEVED? Why on earth would Buffy be relieved???
WSW: You don’t know everything, Dawn.
DSCG: I know one thing, she hasn’t stopped caring for you or loving you. Isn’t that good enough?
William took a long drink, directly from the bottle this time; savoring the distraction, as each harsh molecule of the liquor burned its way down his throat.
WSW: It’s me, I’m the one not good enough, Dawn.
DSCG: Or maybe you’re just a coward. Funny, I never took you as a coward in all the time I’ve known you. At least call or write to Buffy and let her know you’re okay. You owe her that much, unless you can’t even muster the courage to do that little.
<><><><><>
“Dawn!” John said. “You think that’s a good idea to tell him that?”
“I don’t care, he’s being an idiot! I’m not good enough, blah, blah, blah...all the while Buffy’s sitting at home with her heart breaking.”
“His is, too,” John said, gently.
“Looks like he’s doing fine from here!” she said, stubbornly.
<><><><><>
“What the...? Bloody hell!” William said, staring at the screen.
<><><><><>
WSW: I’m sorry you feel that way; I never claimed to be anything but who I am. Tell Elizabeth...tell her she needn’t worry, that I’m okay. I’ve got to go.
Dawn watched as William’s name disappeared from her online IM Buddy’s list.
“Shit!” she said. “Shit!”
John shook his head, and put his arms around her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
William staggered to his feet, bottle clutched in his hand as he angrily staring at the computer.
“Coward, am I?” he said, as he paced back and forth.
He walked into the bathroom, and looked at himself in the mirror, “Show you who’s a coward...” he said, as he slammed the bottle down on the sink...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 11, 2009
SATURDAY
9:00AM
“Oh God!” William moaned as he awoke to pounding; both the internal pounding of a hangover that would’ve brought an elephant to its knees, and the external pounding of someone at his door.
Half falling out of bed, he grabbed his pants and pulled them on, then a T-shirt, which had odd streaks and spots of white all over it. He looked at it strangely, but didn’t have time to wonder what happened.
“I’m coming,” he yelled as he came out of the bedroom, then immediately wished he hadn’t, as his own voice made his head pound like a kettle drum.
He opened the door, recognizing the deliverymen from the thrift store, who stood there staring at him with a strange look on his face.
“Um, does William Worthington live here? I’ve got a delivery for him.”
“Yeah, that’s me. We met at the store yesterday.”
The man looked at him closer, “Oh yeah, okay. You look a bit different.”
“Rough night,” William said, sheepishly.
The man raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything, other than asking William to sign the delivery form, then went downstairs to help the other man carry up the furniture.
After the men left, he went into the kitchen, and gulped down half a bottle of water, took three aspirin, then finished the bottle off. The two-thirds drank pint of Jack Daniels was on the counter. He debated whether or not to discard the remainder in the sink, but instead just put it on the top shelf of one of the mostly empty cabinets.
Suddenly, the water hit him, and the realization of not having yet used the bathroom that morning. He practically slipped over a pile of towels on his way in the door, and as he stood there, realized that the towels had the same strange white markings, as did his shirt.
He kicked the towels out of the way, in order to wash his hands at the sink, and as he did, he looked in the mirror.
Shocked, he stumbled back, nearly landing in the tub had he not grabbed onto the side of the wall just in time.
With some effort, he righted himself, then once more looked in the mirror.
Staring back out at William, with newly bleached, platinum white hair was Spike.
“Oh, bloody hell!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OCTOBER 11, 2009
SATURDAY
NOON
Buffy stared at herself in the mirror, wincing at the image she saw looking back. Her eyes looked dull, with bags underneath them; yesterday’s eye makeup half off, half on her face. Her hair looked wild and matted.
“Bed head,” she mumbled, remembering a time when she would’ve been fondly embarrassed by the look that had been caused by her and William’s lovemaking.
Except, then her eyes danced with life; not look like this.
She stopped her self-criticism for a moment, and listened. There it was again, a soft knocking. Heart quickening, she quickly brushed back her hair with her fingers, and grabbed a robe, then hurried to the door.
“Hi Buffy,” Clem said sheepishly, holding out a pot of soup, as the door was flung open.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy sat across from him at the table, like they’d done so many times throughout the years. This time it felt more like when she’d first come to Julian, and Clem had been there to advise her on so many aspects of living out there, as well as lending her his ample shoulders to cry and lean on.
“I sort of figured something was going down with you two,” Clem said, firmly motioning for Buffy to eat another bite of the clam chowder he’d brought over. “I saw William hightailing it down the road a couple of weeks ago, and I never saw him return, though I wasn’t around for a few days.”
“He’s left,” she replied softly.
“I’m so sorry, Buffy. I should’ve come over sooner, I...”
“It’s alright,” she said, reaching across the table and patting his hand, “you didn’t know, plus I know things between us haven’t been exactly...” she looked into his eyes, and shook her head sadly.
“It’s not your fault, Buffy. Heck, it’s not anyone’s fault. William couldn’t help the way he felt about me, after what happened to him,” he said, with a shrug.
“Spike wouldn’t have felt that way,” she said, a hint of defiance in her tone.
“No, he wouldn’t have,” Clem said, looking at her sadly, “but we’re not dealing with Spike anymore, are we?”
She shook her head.
“Do you miss him?” Clem asked.
“Of course I miss him, everyday I...oh, you mean Spike specifically don’t you?” she asked, as she pondered how best to answer such a complex question.
Clem nodded.
“It was easier with Spike, in a lot of ways,” she said, then laughed, “I know, that must sound insane. I mean, at first he was evil, and trying to kill me. Then he was chipped, but still evil -evil, annoying, scheming... Of course, I wanted to stake him most of the time, too. Then, he started trying to do good things, at first just to impress me, but it wound up being much more to it than just that; he'd changed..." she said, her thoughts wandering.
“...There was this predictability to him most of the time, where I was concerned,” again she laughed, “of course, I can probably think of a dozen examples to refute my own statement.”
“I think I know what you mean, Buffy,” Clem said.
“Explain it to me, then.”
“Spike was loyal,” Clem said simply, “and he stuck around those he was loyal to, come hell or high water. His devotion, or how he showed it may not have always been a straight, logical line, but you never doubted it, no matter what.”
“You’re right,” Buffy nodded, and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. She thought of all the reasons that she’d given Spike to walk out and never come back over the years, but he never did, even when he thought she’d never return his feelings.
They were silent for a minute, as they pondered the enigma that had been Spike.
Finally, she spoke, “I thought that the part of him that loved me, the part of him that had those traits had been William. What if it was just the demon? What if it was the demon who never gave up?”
“What if it was?” Clem asked, a puzzled look on his face. “It’s not like us demons can’t love,” he reminded her.
“I know,” she said, “it’s just that if it was the demon who never gave up, the demon who loved me best...then maybe I’ve really lost William.”
END CHAPTER 160