ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES

CHAPTER 181 - PAST AND PRESENT

DECEMBER 13, 2009
SATURDAY
3:00PM
LOS ANGELES

When she first moved to Julian, it wasn't that hard to avoid the holidays. She wasn’t that close to her fellow students at the university, so if asked what her plans were, she’d just give some vague answer about family back east which would seem to satisfy the person asking.

After she started working at Montessori she had to learn to compartmentalize her feelings about being alone at the holidays. At school, she’d enjoy them, but only for her student’s sakes. As for her co-workers, she’d learned the hard way not to tell anyone that she didn’t have plans, as suddenly their curiosity and sympathy wound up generating invitations to their family gatherings she didn’t want to accept. Buffy quickly found that it was much easier to pretend to be excited over plans of her own than to appear ungrateful or eccentric.

However, on the home front, she painstakingly avoided every-and-any thing that served as depressing reminders of all she’d lost. She allowed for no decorations, television, special foods, or seasonal music. Gratefully, even cheerful, optimistic Clem had always accepted her non-celebrating of the holidays, and never pushed her on the matter. For that reason, her one concession would be to accept his invitation a few days before Christmas each of those years, to share in a small holiday meal with him, which he would cook for her at his cabin.

Then last year, for the first time in so many, she'd been excited about the holidays - from getting a Christmas tree to baking, and everything in between. Mostly though, she’d felt filled with a sense of love, joy, and contentment she hadn’t even dared believe was still possible anymore.

In painful contrast, it now seemed every ornament, every damned Christmas song, commercial, and every decoration on every damned street corner seemed only there to mock her.

Therefore, it was by sheer force of will that Buffy agreed to accompany Dawn shopping. Dawn had originally suggested the mall in San Diego that they'd all gone to last year, but Buffy quickly nixed that idea. The last thing she needed was yet another painful reminder of William's absence from her life. Instead, she agreed to come up to Los Angeles to go shopping at a mall close to where Dawn and John lived.

After giving them a head start, John had agreed to meet them toward the end of the day at the food court. They were just finishing their coffees, when Buffy excused herself to use the washroom.

"How is she?" John asked, as he watched Buffy walk away.

"Holding up. You know Buffy, she's trying to be cheerful for my sake, but I can tell she’s miserable. I forgot to tell you that I talked to Clem a few days ago. Buffy wasn't with him on Thanksgiving Day; he was in San Diego with his cousin.”

"And she told him she was going to be with us," John finished for her. "Why would she...?"

"Because she didn't want to let either me or Clem know that she was planning on being alone."

John didn't say anything for a few moments as they drank their coffee.

"Has she heard anything else from William?"

Dawn shook her head, "No, not since his email a couple of weeks ago. She didn’t seem to want to talk about him today, so I didn’t press her, but I don't know what she's going to do if he doesn't even come home for Christmas or doesn't contact her soon."

“I think he will. Let’s try to think positive,” John said, but wasn’t very convincing.

"If not I will so be kicking his ass," Dawn mumbled.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy had just walked out of the restroom, and was heading back to the table, when she heard her name.

"Hey, John, I was just...Riley?" she said, shocked.

"Buffy! It is you! I wasn't sure. My God!"

"Riley? Is it really you? Oh my God," she said, giving him quick, warm hug.

"In the flesh."

"When? How? What are you doing here?" she asked, looking around. "Where's Sam?"

Riley looked down at his feet for a moment.

“Oh no! What happened? She’s not...”

“No, nothing like that; she’s alive. We split up is all; um... I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t. I’m so sorry, Riley. When did it happen?”

“About a year and a half ago. Our divorce was final about six months ago.”

“Oh,” Buffy said. An uncomfortable silence fell over them.

Finally, Riley cleared his throat. “What about you, Buffy? Are you married?” he asked, taking a surreptitious glance at her ring finger.

Unconsciously, she covered her left hand with her right, as if she could hide the fact that her finger bore no ring. The one it had borne, she’d given back to William. Then again, why should she? She released her hand, straightened her back as she faced Riley.

“I’m sorry Buffy, that was rude of me,” Riley apologized, seeing her uncomfortable gesture.

“It’s alright. Come on, there’s somebody here I think will want to see you,” she said, taking Riley’s hand and dragging him to the table.

“Buffy, who...? Riley? Riley!” Dawn squealed, practically knocking over her chair as she got up to hug him.

“This can’t be Dawn!” Riley said, gracefully accepting her hug. “The Dawn I knew was still a girl,” he teased.

“Yeah, well the guy I knew...what are you doing here?” Dawn asked, to the point as always.

“Dawn, let him sit down, will you? Um...that is if you want to, Riley.”

“Sure, I’d love to,” he said in his affable, grinning way. He grabbed a chair from the table behind him, and pulled over to theirs, straddling it as he sat down.

Introductions were made between him and John; then Riley filled them in on the last few years. After some general chitchat, he told them that the last time they’d seen them he and Sam had a stint in Tibet, then returned to South America, followed by their last assignment together three years ago in the Congo. He gave a brief statement regarding his and Sam’s break-up and divorce.

“After we returned stateside, we both took jobs in Washington, D.C. Seems that we overestimated how much we had in common. I mean, maybe in the field the life and death fights we faced just made it seem...” he cleared his throat, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” Dawn said.

“That’s alright. We had problems before, it was just in the field there wasn’t any time to deal with them. Sam remarried a couple of months ago; a senator from Nebraska.”

“Is that when you moved back to California?” Dawn asked.

“Just temporarily. I went back into the field and they stationed me in L.A.; lots of demon activity around here still.”

They sat talking in the food court for another hour, with Riley asking lots of questions about Dawn and her college courses, what John did for a living, and about their old friends from Sunnydale.

By tacit agreement, Dawn and Buffy didn’t say anything about either Spike or William, although John had nearly let it slip when Riley had mentioned taking in some sightseeing this time that he’d never done before.

“...I was thinking about going to San Juan Capistrano sometime. Have any of you ever been there?”

“Yeah, Dawn and I spent a weekend there last spring with Buffy and Will...” John had gotten only this far, when he received a kick underneath the table.

“Willow? How is she?” Riley asked, seemingly missing the preceding kick, glare, and widened eyes among the other three.

“Um...she’s fine; she was here for a visit,” Buffy had fibbed, then went on to talk about the mission.

They left the mall together, John and Dawn heading toward their car, and Riley insisting on walking Buffy to hers. Dawn used the universal signal for ‘Call me!’ Buffy discreetly nodded.

Riley hadn’t really asked about her much while they had all been together. Her luck ran out on the way to her car.

“And what of you, Buffy? I hear that you’re not the only slayer anymore. That must have given you an opportunity to have a chance at living a normal life.”

She looked at him surprised, though she shouldn’t have been. After all, Riley was still involved with the part of government ops, which had tracked demons for who knew how long.

“Wait, don’t answer that right now. I know that I’ve just put you on the spot; I just didn’t want to have this...see, you still tie my tongue in knots,” he said with a good old, Iowa boy smile.

Buffy smiled back. “That’s okay.”

“What I mean to say is that I’d really like to hear all about your life now, and I thought maybe I could take you to dinner sometime?” he said, hopefully.

“I don’t know...”

“Just dinner, Buffy; that’s all I want.”

She studied him for a moment. A part of her felt it was a huge mistake to agree to it, yet another part of her asked herself why she shouldn’t. After all, he was just a friend, right? And it wasn’t like there was someone at home waiting for her, or who would even know if she went out with the whole Seventh Fleet, for that matter, she thought with a touch of bitterness.

She looked up at Riley and smiled sweetly. “Sure, I’d love to,” she heard her self say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DECEMBER 13, 2009
SATURDAY
1:00AM
GREENWICH

Three hundred and sixty-five times one hundred and twenty.
Three hundred and sixty-five times one hundred and twenty.
Bring the zero down.
Two times five equal ten.
Carry the one...

Beyond weary from the aftermath of tonight's talk with Giles, William took off his reading glasses, placing them on the nightstand. At his feet lay the folder Giles had let him borrow containing a vast array of information about Spike, since the late 1800’s. Whether totally accurate or not, they were original files which Giles had, as he put it, 'permanently borrowed,' from the Council, when Spike had first become a presence in Sunnydale.

On the way up to massaging his pounding temples, he stayed his hands, a quizzical look on his face as he studied them. Though not large by any means, his fingers were adequately long, the overall structure tending a bit towards the delicate. As a boy, his mother had praised them as such saying God had given him the sort of hands meant to create something beautiful with.

His mouth drew up in a slight smile remembering that in the past year, Elizabeth had seemed to be quite taken with, both their form and function. William felt himself growing hard, as he recalled the exquisite feel of her soft skin and body, beneath them. Flexing his fingers ever so slightly, he watched them with a contemplative fascination, before closing his eyes, letting his fingers draw imaginary patterns on imagined warm breasts.

The reverie abruptly ended, and he shook his head in dismay. Opening his eyes he studied his hands once more. A brittle laugh echoed in the quiet of his room as he thought of the irony. He doubted if any of Spike’s many victims contained in these pages had ever thought given thought to his hands being delicate right before he’d killed them.

Even before arriving, tonight had been the moment in time he’d dreaded the most; confronting the bitter truth about his existence after being turned into a vampire. The fact, that he'd been compelled to fly across an ocean in order to do so did little to placate his fears.

Just as hard, perhaps even more so, was the knowledge that he -- Spike -- had been with Drusilla for most of that time. It had been both their exploits that were chronicled along with Angel and Darla’s, while they all lived together.

Given this, he’d prevailed upon Giles to just allow him to read the folder sans conversation.

"Talking about it won't make me feel any better, you know," William had argued, as he’d stood in the parlor, hands stubbornly folded against his chest.

"Perhaps not. Still, I'll feel better for your doing it this way," Giles had countered. “However, you’re certainly past the age of majority, so if you insist on doing it that way, I won’t attempt to stop you; though I do advise against it.”

The two men studied each other for a moment. Despite his fear, William saw only understanding in Giles' eyes, and had relented. Taking a deep breath, he gave a small nod, and walked over to the couch. Once seated, Giles had then brought him the folder and a drink. He’d then retreated a respectable distance, waiting for William to initiate the discussion.

Taking a long draught of liquid courage, William had opened up the folder and started reading the very long timeline of William the Bloody’s murderous history:

From the London Daily - 2 October 1880

In a most shockingly gruesome fashion, even by the annals of London’s most infamous crimes, eleven persons viciously met the most heinous deaths last night in Kensington. The victims, all in their 20’s and 30’s, were attending a party thrown by Edward Addams, in honor of his sister Cecily’s recent engagement to up and coming businessman, Stephen Cornwall. All met their grisly ends by having railroad spikes driven through their skulls.

Mr. Addam’s butler and a maid, also present at the time, were slain as well.
The day maid discovered the bodies when she came to work early this morning. She held together long enough to go and fetch the nearest constable, but has since been hospitalized with a case of hysteria.

Stepping away from journalistic impartiality, I dare say, can anyone blame her?

What sort of animal, or animals, would be capable of such a crime? The whole populace of London, especially Kensington, is sure to be terrified of this latest rash of gory murders.

The story went on to say that it appeared robbery was also involved, and that it wasn’t known if the victims knew their murderer(s).

The names of the victims, other than those whose home the killings had taken place at, were being withheld, prior to notification of their families.

Steeling himself, William then opened the Scotland Yard police report, which recorded the horrifying details in ways the newspaper hadn’t dared. It included police artist’s drawings and a few old, daguerreotype photographs of the crime scene. Also included were the names of the victims, which William read first.

Edward Addams
Cecily Addams
Stephen Cornwall
Katherine Engle
Beatrice Foxgrove
Rose McCleary
Harry Randolph
Henry Worthington
Flora Wright

George Whitmore, butler
Elsie Cassidy, maid

The words on the paper blurred. “Oh God, Henry,” William whispered, bringing his hand up to his mouth to swallow back the bile.

Edward, Cecily, his own brother, Rose, Harry, all of them; he knew all of them. Each had scorned and humiliated him at one point or another; all except Flora. Henry’s intended had always been decent to him. Still, none of them had deserved to be massacred like this.

The police report had gone on to say that besides railroad spikes through their heads, most victims also had their throats ripped open. According to the report, corpses with similar neck wounds had turned up at a variety of London locations over the past couple of months.

The bodies had been further brutalized both before and after their deaths; and it was suspected that it had been a gang, rather than the work of one person. Hands shaking William turned to the next section before he could read any more of the horrific details.

He was only vaguely aware that Giles had come up and refilled his glass. Gratefully, he drank another long swallow; the pain in his stomach only temporarily easing that of his mind.

There were a few other reports in that time period, of others killed by railroad spikes; the victims also known to him. There was also a firsthand report from a carriage driver who’d seen the four of them -- Spike, Drusilla, Angelus, and
Darla -- attack a couple as they came home late one evening. According to the driver, he had just dropped them off at their home when the attackers, whose faces he described as appearing inhuman, came out of the shadows. The driver said he’d only got away because the horse had bolted and he’d been able to keep going.

After that, there were reports and sightings of the four of them from Paris, Rome, Romania, Russia, and China over the next few decades. After the early 1900’s, the reports seemed to just contain the exploits of him and Drusilla; children killed in an orphanage in Austria, tourists with neck wounds thrown off the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Reports that they’d almost been caught in Prague by an angry mob.

The folder also contained Giles’ notes, starting when Spike and Drusilla had first arrived in Sunnydale to seek a cure for her weakness, after having been nearly killed in Prague. Later notes detailed the first time Spike consorted with Buffy:

After the unexpected loss of his soul, Angel(us) returned to their ‘little family,’ thus creating a ‘love’ triangle. When he threatened to end the world, Spike -- for the sake of his own self interest, and likely out of jealousy as well -- sought out Buffy and they struck a deal. Spike would endeavor to keep Angelus from killing me, and help bring him down. In exchange, Buffy agreed to look the other way when he and Drusilla left town. Spike’s alliance with Buffy also inadvertently, served to save the world. Acathla, although activated, was shut back down when Buffy killed Angel.

Further notes detailed how Angelus came to trick Buffy into meeting him in a cemetery when, in fact, it was a coup resulting in the death of the slayer, Kendra, as well as Giles being kidnapped and tortured so that Angelus could find out how to activate Acathla. William's features hardened as he read the Watcher's painful account:

Angelus held me for a number of days, torturing me, as he tried to get me to reveal how to activate Acathla (it was his blood that was required). Unfortunately, I must confess here that Drusilla was able to use her powers into fooling me to believe I was talking to the recently murdered Jenny Calendar. Having done so, I unwittingly gave up the information they sought.

There was also notes on Jenny Calendar's relation to the gypsies, and her subsequent death at the hands of Angelus, before she could attempt to curse him with a soul again.

Reports from others that the two of them had gone to South America, where eventually Drusilla left him, also turned up in Giles’ notes:

Distraught over his split with Drusilla, Spike temporarily returned to Sunnydale, causing his particular brand of murder and mayhem. After killing the owner of the local magic shop, he then kidnapped Xander and Willow; Xander because he was there, Willow to try to force her to do a love spell for him. As was usually the case with Spike, halfway through his plans, he did a turnabout. Deciding a love spell wasn’t what he needed after all, he once more left town.

A year later, much to all of our chagrin, Spike returned to Sunnydale, alone, and this time for good. Soon after, Spike was captured by a secret government operation going by the name, the Initiative. In a colossal underestimation of it’s own prowess, the Initiative, sought to both study demons and harness their power.

Before escaping, a behavior modification chip had been implanted in Spike’s brain, making it impossible for him to hurt humans without excruciating pain. Unable to hunt or feed, he came to us seeking refuge. Reluctantly, we agreed on the condition that Spike give us any, and all, information he could in order to help us locate the Initiative; by then responsible for causing a power imbalance in the already volatile Hellmouth.

Notes: I would be remiss to not include that due to the untimely death of the magic shop’s owner by Spike, that I became its next proprietor.

It should also be noted, this is when Spike’s more or less permanent, and most often, uneasy alliance with the slayer, myself, and Buffy’s friends -- known as the Scoobies -- started.


William skipped over most of the next section dealing with Glory. Picking up the story, Giles wrote that even after Buffy had died, Spike helped watch over Dawn, as well as fought by his and the Scoobies side against demons.

There wasn’t much after that, until finally, Giles ended with this footnote, dated a couple of years after Spike died:

Eventually, Spike went to Africa to get his soul back. What prompted him to do this, or for what ends, I don’t really know. Looking back now, I can only surmise it had to do with his wanting to be someone who would be worthy. In the end, it appears he was.

It had been nearly an hour since he’d started reading; Giles had waited patiently for him to finish. A small, almost imperceptible nod from William, was his cue to proceed.

“Quite a story, isn’t it?” Giles said gently.

“You mean quite the horror story,” William replied.

“Yes. For the most part; I believe that comes with the territory of being a vampire.”

William didn’t reply; only sat there - not moving, not blinking, not anything.

“Are you alright?” Giles asked gently. “Is there anything you’d like to ask me? ”

“How could I?” William suddenly blurted, in a voice belying his pain. “My brother, my...the people I knew?”

“You didn’t; the demon did,” Giles said, adding, “from what I understand, it’s apparently quite common for newly sired vampires to go after their families and friends.”

A fleeting look of surprise on William’s face was quickly replaced by one of self-loathing and disgust. “That’s supposed to make me feel better? Doesn’t make them any less dead, does it?”

“No, William, it doesn’t," Giles said, as he carefully set down his empty glass on the mantle. "As human beings, we all have qualms, insecurities, ambivalent, and even cruel feelings and impulses towards those closest to us. I tend to believe that, coupled with what society teaches us, for most of us, a soul keeps those impulses in-check. I think what the demon does is unshackles all those impulses and feelings. Now, without regard or remorse, the being is then able to act upon them. For some vampires, killing those closest is likely a way to sever all links to their human past; erase the living reminders of their formerly human emotions and frailties. For others, it might also be a way to even the score; maybe a bit of both.”

“Like me?”

“Perhaps,” Giles answered delicately.

“Know why he chose railroad spikes?” William asked, a bitter edge creeping into his voice.

Giles shook his head.

“I told you about how I’d humiliated myself in front of that Cecily the night I was turned, right? What I neglected to tell you was that I’d just been composing a poem about her. The inks weren’t even dried when that ponce, Stephen Cornwall, grabbed it out of my hands. He read it out loud; right in front of her, and everyone else at the party,” William said, his pulse speeding up as he relived the anxiety and humiliation of the event.

“As to be expected, it got a round of sniggers. As I was walking away, Stephen told the others he’d rather have a railroad spike through his head than to listen to any more of William’s bloody, awful poetry.”

“Got his wish then, it would... “Giles started, then suddenly his eyes widened, as it all clicked into place.

“The names you took on; Spike and William the Bloody...All from the taunting you endured as a human,” Giles said, shaking his head.

William’s bitter laugh echoed in the room. “I guess so. Poor bastard.”

Giles wasn’t sure if he was talking about himself or Spike’s victim. He guessed it was more than likely himself of whom he spoke. The two men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, until William finally spoke again.

“What about...her? Drusilla?’

“What about her?”

William swallowed, as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that this woman, or rather this thing that he’d been so horrified and terrified by, and had eventually slain, had been his...rather Spike’s paramour for over 120 years.

“Is it the usual thing; staying with the one who sired you for so long?”

Giles took note of the conflict in William’s eyes and answered the question accordingly.

“I think most vampires tend to stay together with the ones who sired them at least for a while. Perhaps it’s some sort of filial loyalty; more likely it’s in order to learn from them. However, I’m fairly certain that the level of devotion that you showed towards Drusilla, even when she was unable to fend for herself for a while, was atypical. I also believe that she took care of you, when you were temporarily incapacitated.”

“The two of you reek of humanity,” William whispered.

Giles looked at him, puzzled. “Where did that come from?”

William’s own look mirrored Giles’. “I don’t know. It’s just something that popped into my head. I think...I think someone said that to me...to him and Drusilla. I can’t remember, but I don’t think whoever said it was human.”

“Can you see anything? Where you were at the time this was said to you?”

William thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, it was just the words that came back, and the feeling that it was directed at us.”

“By all accounts, you and Drusilla were a rarity in the demon world. It’s not like vampires are like wolves or birds that mate for life. Demons will generally turn on each other if it suits their needs. Even for long lived creatures, I’d say you and Drusilla lasting over a century is quite the anomaly in the vampire world.”

“Was it... love, then?” William asked, choking on the very word. It was a mockery, that this most beautiful of words and concepts; one that had dictated his whole life, had seemingly dictated his unlife as well. The very idea that the word love could be applied to what Spike had felt for Drusilla, was appalling to him.

“I don’t know. From all I’d learned when I became a watcher, I’d have said it was impossible to love without a soul. However, Spike rather disproved that point, I’d say. You appeared to have loved more than one person as a demon, even before your getting your soul back; at least it was some sort of expression of love. Albeit twisted at times, I’d say it was still more than most demons were capable of feeling.”

William shook his head in dismay. “Isn’t love the opposite of hate, of evil? If Spike was evil how could he love? Of course, maybe evil can just love evil. But if he loved Drusilla, who was evil, then how could he go from her to someone as good as Elizabeth, and call it the same thing?”

Now it was time for Giles head to spin. He cleared his throat. “I honestly don’t know, William. I used to see the world of vampires and demons in black and white. For better or worse knowing you, and a few others who were anomalies, has taken away that luxury. Perhaps Spike still maintained a modicum of your humanity when he was turned, which couldn’t be totally suppressed by the demon. Maybe it had something to do with the vampiric bloodline he came from.”

Giles took a few moments to offer the distraught younger man another drink. William refused, so he just refilled his own.

“I don’t know if any of these questions will ever be able to be answered to your complete satisfaction. Whist we have this folder, and our educated guesses, it’s still part conjecture. You may just have to live with that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DECEMBER 15, 2009
MIDNIGHT

LOS ANGELES

In the shadows, he clandestinely pulled the black ski mask down over his face, and buttoned his jacket over his bullet and sword proof vest. He reached into his pocket and felt reassured at the taser he felt there.

“Testing,” he whispered into a two-way.

“We hear you. All clear,” came the reply.

“I’m going in,” he said, tightening his grip on the saber he held in his left hand.

He had to admit, he felt the old thrill of danger go through his veins as he let himself into the abandoned hotel. Shining the flashlight out in front of him, he saw the pentagram that had resisted all efforts at removal, still in the center of the floor. Sidestepping it, he headed toward his old office behind the desk, and retrieved a large key that hung on a nail behind a picture.

Beyond the kitchen area was the basement door. Heart pounding, he used the key to unlock it, and cautiously went downstairs. Biting back an impulse to scream, he swiped at the numerous spider webs that stood between him and his goal.

Finally, on the opposite side of the basement, he found the old furnace. Lifting off the front panel, he groped around the base, underneath the soot, until he felt the latch. He yanked, but nothing happened. He pulled harder, and still it wouldn’t budge. After a few more, frustrating minutes of this, he finally sat back on his feet, and said a small incantation. Immediately the latch turned, and the whole hidden container rose. He pulled it out through the furnace grate, and untwisted the top. Carefully, he removed his gloves to as not get any soil on what was inside.

“And there you are,” Wesley said with a smile, as he carefully pulled out the original Shanshu Prophecy manuscript.

END CHAPTER 181