And Make a Lost World Thy Home: Chapter One

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter One:

Veronica’s eyes shot open and she sat up quickly, heart racing. Logan shifted beside her, grumbling, before finally sitting up and putting a hand on her back.

“Were you attempting a late night seduction? Because honestly, Veronica, I’m getting too old for this.”

“I-I,” she said, “I had the weirdest dream.”

“Veronica?” questioned Logan, his slightly teasing tone turning concerned.

“I’m okay,” she said, her mind working over-time.

“Were you dreaming about the freezer again?” he asked carefully.

“No,” she said, finally turning to face him.

“Then what?” he asked, turning on their bedside lamp.

“It was…about Spike,” she said, trying to keep her hands from trembling. The dream hadn’t been that terrifying. What was strange about it was how real it had felt. Ordinarily when she dreamed everything was fragmented and she could tell it didn’t make sense even while she was fully immersed. This time, she could smell the sulfur and feel the coldness of the amulet in her fingers. Spike’s scream had been so real. “In the Hellmouth.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, reaching to embrace her.

She went willingly, every day with him teaching her to accept the support he offered instead of trying to do everything on her own.

“It was so clear,” she said. “I could see him burning up, but then…then he came back.”

“Came back?”

“He came out of the amulet. It was like watching footage of someone exploding in reverse.”

“That’s quite the image,” he said.

She pulled back and smiled up at him, the sensations of her dream fading the longer they talked.

“Yeah, it was. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s not like I don’t have a job I have to get up for,” he said. “Geez, one would have thought you would have timed your nightmares better.”

“Watch it, mister,” she said. “You’re not the one who pulled an all-nighter last night at the Camelot.”

“You know sometimes a guy has to wonder just why his wife spends all her time at that sordid den of iniquity,” he said, kissing her nose.

“Maybe I just want to remember our first kiss,” she said, waggling her ring finger in his face.

“Ah yes, the day you couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he said.

“Mine was a peck,” she said, demonstrating, “a peck. Yours was the full blown make out helicopter shot kiss.”

“Helicopter shot?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“You know, in a movie, the camera would do a sweep around the kissing couple…” she trailed off.

“I guess you do spend a lot of time behind a camera,” he said thoughtfully. “Never thought you tried to do such artistic shots. Can’t imagine how they turn out, though.”

She swatted his shoulder, grateful for the distraction.

“Just go to sleep, Mr. I Probably Will Be Golfing With Other Millionaires Instead Of Actually Working.”

“We discuss work,” he protested. “I’ll have you know, my sweet, that it’s very difficult to golf and work at the same time, but I am an expert at it.”

“Then you shouldn’t be griping about not getting any sleep.”

He gaped for a second before laughing and tugging her down beside him. She snuggled into his shoulder and attempted to go back to sleep.

Sleep was a long time coming. The images she’d dreamed of kept flashing through her mind and when she did dream again, it was to those same images, though never in the clear and chronological quality they’d had before.

***

In the morning Veronica felt grouchy and frustrated and snapped at Logan while he made her bacon and eggs.

“That really was a nightmare,” he commented. “I am sorry for it, my little grinch, but could you perhaps not bite my head off while I offer you breakfast?”

Veronica blinked and swallowed a retort before offering a weak smile and gulping some coffee.

“I am very sorry for my transgressions,” she said in a monotone. “But I can’t stop thinking about this dream.”

“How come, do you think?” he asked, sliding her plate over to her.

“It was so realistic, Logan,” she said, pushing the eggs around for a minute before actually sticking some in her mouth. “I just feel like it’s important. It’s one of my hunches.”

“Well, I usually believe very strongly in those myself,” he said, loading his fork with bacon.

“Even if it means I think something supernatural might be going on?” she asked.

He put the fork down.

“Please tell me you’re pulling my muscular and shapely leg.”

She scoffed and drank some more coffee.

“Didn’t you tell me once that since magic saved your life you had learned to appreciate its uses or something like that?”

“I am laden with gratitude over here,” he said. “But may I remind you that an entire town caved in and we lost a lot of good people because of the supernatural? Other than an occasional run in with a vampire and Mac teaching her weird classes, we haven’t had any interaction with the freaky-deaky magic for a long time.”

“You’re forgetting Tara’s coven,” she reminded him.

“How could I be so remiss,” he said sarcastically. “It’s not that I can’t see magic’s usefulness and good side, but when it rears its head in our lives, it usually means something bad is going to happen.”

“Can’t argue with that,” she said. “Still not my fault that it happens.”

“I wasn’t saying it was.”

“Granted, but I can’t help feeling like this is important and I should tell Buffy about it.”

Logan immediately shook his head.

“No, you can’t do that to her.”

“If something is happening, shouldn’t the Slayer know about it?”

“She’s not the only Slayer anymore,” Logan said. “Faith’s got that covered for the most part and Buffy’s trying to put the past behind her. It’s been five years since Spike died; don’t go digging into that wound.”

“You say that like I instigated this,” Veronica said sharply. “I didn’t dial The Dream-About-Spike hotline last night, you know.” He just chewed for a while, looking unhappy. “If it was about you, I’d want to know,” she said finally. “Even if it meant nothing; even if it was hard, I’d want to know.”

“Not everyone’s the same, Veronica,” Logan replied, his face softening despite his words.

“Believe me, I know. But I really feel like I should at least let her know. She can make the decision about what to do. I mean, I don’t even know what could be done. As much as I’ve learned, you’re right - we’ve gone normal the past couple of years.”

“We are not normal,” he said, swallowing the last of his coffee.

“Well…” she said, conceding his point. “Much more normal than we have been or could be.”

“Better,” he said, taking his plate over to the sink.

“So…I’m just gonna call her.”

“For the record I’m against it,” he said.

Veronica pretended to notate something on her napkin.

“Noted.”

“Are you done?” he asked, surreptitiously, she was sure, trying to check his watch.

“Go,” she said, laughing. “I’ll clean up. Golf waits for no man.”

“Oh, it will wait for me,” he said, crossing the room and bending down to kiss her. “You’re going to the drug store first thing, right?”

“Yes, I’m going,” said Veronica. “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”

“Impossible,” he said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said.

Veronica finished her breakfast and then reviewed the rest of her day. She had a client meeting later before she and Mac were getting lunch. There were some calls and leads she wanted to follow up on in the afternoon, but for now she could afford to clean the kitchen and call Buffy. She glanced at her watch and decided it was late enough in Cleveland, even for a night owl.

The phone rang a few times before a muffled voice answered the phone.

“Buffy?” she asked.

“Hey, Veronica,” said the other voice, much clearer now.

“Sorry, I guess you decided to patrol last night, huh?”

“Yeah, well, retirement before twenty-five isn’t as fun as it sounds,” Buffy said wryly. “I ended up finding a nest which is pretty unusual these days, but it meant I had to actually work at it.”

“Sorry to wake you up.”

“It’s okay. I actually don’t need as much sleep as other people.”

“Remind me more of how much I hate you,” Veronica said.

Buffy laughed.

“Sorry, what can I do for you? Something tells me this isn’t a social call.”

“Well, no, in fact it’s a Logan-doesn’t-approve-of-this-call call.”

“That sounds serious. Something magick-y happening? You guys okay?”

“I had a dream last night. It involves painful subjects and potentially interesting implications.”

Buffy paused before replying.

“Well, as a receiver of Slayer dreams, I’ve learned to listen to them. Tell me what’s the what.”

Veronica described her dream, each detail still amazingly clear in her memory, more because she could recall how it felt to be in it than because it was an actual memory.

Buffy listened without interrupting and then didn’t say anything for a long time.

“A lot to process, huh?” Veronica finally said when she didn’t feel like she could bear the silence any longer.

“More like…too much,” Buffy said, her voice a little hitched up.

“Sorry, that’s why Logan was so against calling you.”

“I’m almost inclined to agree with him, though don’t tell him I said so.”

“Secrets aren’t usually safe with me, but this one is,” said Veronica. “What do you think?”

“If you were a Slayer I’d be all over it,” said Buffy. “But five years is coming up in a couple of weeks and it wasn’t traumatic only for me.”

“So nice of you to share,” said Veronica.

“I try,” said Buffy. “Anyway, I’ll give it some thought, maybe ask Giles. You should keep me updated.”

“I can do that,” Veronica said. “Are you sure you’re okay? Like you said, five years…coming up.”

“I won’t lie and say I’m peachy keen,” said Buffy, “which is a phrase I’ve never understood. Any insights?”

“None but that you’re deflecting my question.”

“You should be a PI or something,” said Buffy.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Veronica said, patiently waiting.

“I’ve…moved on,” said Buffy finally, as if sensing Veronica wasn’t going to let it go. “Pretty much wholly, but this time of year, I don’t do so well on that.”

“I’m sorry,” said Veronica. “You know we’d do anything if we could.”

“Oh, I know,” said Buffy. “Dawnie’s already going to come here after her finals are over and spoil me rotten, she says. I think that’s sister speak for I’m going to have to spoil her rotten, but I can always hope.”

“Good, I’m glad you won’t be alone,” said Veronica.

“Naw, Dawn will be with me. Willow and Xander said they’d Skype with me later and everything. Tara’s been bombarding me with her usual assortment of care packages and letters.”

“The woman is a saint,” said Veronica.

“Which is weird since she’s a witch,” said Buffy.

“I know, right?”

“So, don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Oh, we’ll always worry,” said Veronica.

“Sounds good to me. Say hi to Logan for me and tell him I’m pulling for a girl.”

“We just decided to start trying, let’s not beat the man down just yet,” said Veronica.

“Spoilsport,” said Buffy.

“Any child coming from Logan and I is going to be screwed right from the start,” said Veronica.

“Hey now, don’t go beating them down just yet,” said Buffy.

“I’ll try. It’s hard to visualize anyway. I certainly never thought I’d ever had kids.”

“You and Logan will make good parents,” said Buffy.

“I certainly hope so,” said Veronica. “At least they’re going to get one good grandparent out of the deal.”

“And a plethora of aunts and uncles,” said Buffy.

“Yes. Good word choice.”

“Yeah, I got one of those word a day calendars.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now,” said Veronica.

“I’ll keep the secret to my actual grave,” said Buffy. “The last one, not any potential next ones.”

“Fine,” said Veronica. “As it is, I should run because I’ve got to pick up a pregnancy test before my first meeting of the day.”

“Let me know how it goes!”

“You’re fairly high up on the list,” said Veronica.

“And thank you for calling,” said Buffy. “I mean it, it’s not something I wanted to hear, but…it’s Spike.”

“That’s what I’ll tell Logan when I roll out the ‘I told you so’ speech.”

“Have fun.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Bye,” said Buffy and hung up.

Veronica quickly cleaned up the kitchen and left for the day. The strange restlessness that had plagued her since the night before was assuaged now that she’d called Buffy and she sincerely hoped that was the end of the matter.

***

Buffy climbed out of the mausoleum, Spike right behind her. Caleb’s blood, or what passed for it, was still splattered on her jeans and she was already lamenting the loss of one of the only pair she owned that was perfect for slaying.

Spike’s arms snaked around her from behind.

“That was…perfection, love,” he said.

“You’re just saying that,” she said. “But, yeah, it kind of was.”

“Put it right to that wanker.”

“I have never wanted to slay anything that badly.”

“Not even me?”

“Sometimes you have that effect,” she said, turning to face him.

He put one hand on a rapidly forming bruise on her chin.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Fine, you?”

“Be right as rain in no time. The cut’s already healing.”

“Make sure you drink some blood when we get home.”

“I’ve been pillaging the world for over a century, Slayer, I know how to take care of myself.”

“Then why am I always cleaning up after you?”

“Because I have you well trained,” he said.

“In your dreams, Spike.”

“Every night, love, every night.”

“You’re such a pig,” she said.

“And you love me,” he said, still saying it as if it was a brand new thing even though it had been a year since the first time she’d told him.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” said a new voice out of the shadows.

“Nothing new for you then,” said Spike, turning to face Angel.

“Angel,” said Buffy. “I see you got my message.”

“Yeah, we just finished our own little crisis, so I was free to come up. I went to the Powers to see what they knew about the First.”

“And?” asked Spike.

“And,” Angel said, physically ignoring Spike, “they thought this was something actually worth getting worked up over.”

“That makes me feel better and worse,” said Buffy.

“What’d they say?” asked Spike, obviously annoyed at being ignored.

“After I told them about my experience with it,” Angel said, “they said that they had something that could help.”

“What?” asked Buffy.

“This,” said Angel, pulling a hand out of his pocket and showcasing an amulet with a large diamond.

“Someone call Elizabeth Taylor and let her know she’s been robbed,” said Buffy, whistling.

“What does it do?” asked Spike, eying it with suspicion.

“All the Powers would say was that it was meant to be worn by a Champion, someone other than human.”

“How perfect for you,” said Spike sardonically. “Get to swoop to the rescue again.”

“Hold on,” said Buffy. “So, you just wear it and then what?”

“I don’t know,” said Angel. “But I’m prepared to do whatever you need me to do.”

Buffy softened; there would always be something inside her that was grateful to Angel on some level.

“I already have a Champion,” she said quietly to lessen the blow.

Spike relaxed at her side, still so insecure after all this time, and she knew at least part of that was her fault.

“Hate to break it to you,” said Angel, scowling, “but your ‘Champion’ doesn’t have a soul.”

“Because it’s done wonders for your personality,” muttered Spike.

“He fits the bill,” said Buffy firmly.

“Then he’s going to have to accept a shiny new soul along with the amulet,” said Angel darkly.

Spike and Buffy looked at each other.

“What do you mean?” asked Buffy.

“I thought you’d go this route,” said Angel. “I asked the Powers if a un-souled vampire could bear the amulet and they said no. The amulet is designed for something with a soul and it will make sure that whoever is wearing it has one. The minute he sticks that thing over his head, his soul will be called.

***

Buffy tried to ignore it, she really did. She tried going back to sleep, she tried emailing Willow - she even tried cleaning up the house a little. She shared it with several other Slayers she was technically in charge of. Under the new Watcher’s Council, Slayers who had been fully trained were sent to work under a more senior Slayer for a while just to have a safety net before they were assigned a more permanent location or moved on to do whatever they wanted with their lives. Buffy had two at the moment and both of them were slobs, one because she was an actual slob and the other because she lived and breathed being a Slayer. Usually Buffy just lived with it, not being particularly anal about meticulous housekeeping at the best of times, but today she needed something to distract her.

Except it didn’t work and when she realized she’d been standing drying the same plate for five minutes while she recalled the events leading up to the final battle and Angel bringing them the amulet, she gave in and called Giles.

“Buffy, are you all right?” he asked, answering the phone after several rings.

She winced and realized she had done what Veronica had done to her, except Veronica had probably actually considered the time and had technically called during acceptable calling hours.

“I’m sorry, I can call you back. It’s not urgent.”

“You sound troubled.”

“I’m not, I am. I’m all over the place actually.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Well, I just got a call from Veronica and she had a very vivid dream about Spike.” She described it to him. “I mean, it sounds like a Slayer dream, but Veronica’s not a Slayer. I just don’t know if it means something. I don’t want to open that door again; I don’t think I can.”

“Well, that is rather difficult,” said Giles. “It does sound very particular, like a vision of some kind. I wonder…” he said and Buffy imagined him flipping through some book he probably just kept on his night side table. “Well, it’s been documented in the past where women who were never identified as potential Slayers described similar type dreams that ended up being…well, true.”

“Great, crush all my hopes and dreams, Giles.”

“That’s not to say Veronica’s had a Slayer dream,” he assured her. “It’s too early to say whether or not that’s what’s happening here. It was just the one dream.”

“Yes, and vivid enough she called to tell me about it the morning after.”

“Well, there is that.”

“Okay, so what do I do?” Buffy asked, happy to put this one off on the Watcher, even if he was actually head of the Watcher’s Council and Dean of the Watcher’s Academy and so many other bigger and more important things than just her Watcher.

“I would advise patience and caution,” he said. “I wouldn’t like to ignore anything important, but it’s not that much to go on.”

“That’s what I told Veronica,” said Buffy, relieved her initial reaction was being validated.

“Well, then I could have been saved some sleep, couldn’t I?” Giles rebuked mildly.

“Rub it in,” she said. “Next time I’ll call even earlier. Or is it later? Not really sure how it works, come to think of it.”

“You know that I’m always happy to hear from you,” he said. “In other respects, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine, I’m dealing,” said Buffy. “Dawn will be here in a few weeks after her finals and I won’t be alone.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Giles. “I know Willow was rather excited about face to face time with you and Xander.”

“It’s been a while,” said Buffy. “Since Xander had Jesse, he and Anya are in total parent-mode.”

“Yes, a rather cute infant, I will admit,” said Giles. “I’m not very good around children.”

“Oh, that was so British and stuffy I want to cry from nostalgia,” said Buffy. “Go back to sleep before you break something.”

“I will, but if there are any new developments…”

“I’ll let you know,” Buffy assured him.

“Have a good day, Buffy.”

“Sleep tight.”

Buffy hung up the phone and went back to her email to Willow, updating it to let her know what Veronica said, but with none of the urgency she had previously been feeling. She pushed aside the feelings of longing she usually felt when she thought about Spike. He was gone and that was that. It wasn’t that she couldn’t think about him or talk about him or miss him, but if she did nothing but wallow in his memory she would be dishonoring his sacrifice and she refused to do that.

***

The Hellmouth was in a frenzy around her, vampires being dusted left and right. Girls cried out and bodies fell. The light from Spike shot through the entire cavern, and the vampires were decimated with nowhere to hide from the cleansing glow that surrounded him.

She had to avert her eyes again and once more the Hellmouth was deserted when she opened them. She expected to find the amulet this time when she saw the glint of light. It felt exactly as it had last time, but she was prepared for the dark cloud that swarmed out of it and studied it intently.

Spike was suddenly there, his body reformed and he screamed. She reached out for him and he doubled over, his whole body shaking.

“Spike,” she whispered.

He looked up at her and she saw the confusion in his eyes. He vamped out and snarled at her. She took a step back and he stayed where he was as if he couldn’t move. He kept on shaking, disoriented, his body seemingly in pain.

She watched him, frozen, until something caught her peripheral vision and she turned to see Buffy looking horrified.

Veronica opened her eyes and exhaled heavily from her nose. She wasn’t frightened or scared, but she was overwhelmed with a very bad feeling. She turned her head to see if Logan was still asleep but his side of the bed was empty and she could hear the water running in the bathroom. She glanced at the clock; it was 5:56, just before her alarm was due to go off.

She lay back in bed, her eyes closed. When Logan came back in, she didn’t open them; just spoke into the darkness behind her closed eyelids.

“I think we’re in serious trouble.”