And Make a Lost World Thy Home: Chapter Five

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Five

Veronica walked down the street in a city she was only somewhat familiar with. People crowded all around her and she walked with the flow to find the source of the disturbance.

There was a building towering over all the rest and she felt drawn there. It was a plain office building, similar to any other of its kind, but there was a menace that seemed to emanate from the walls. There was a whispered hush amongst all the people standing by its open doors. Veronica reached the door and turned to look behind her and noticed none of the people gathered there had faces.

She closed her eyes and when she opened them again she was standing inside the building, a line of vampires on either side of her like an honor guard. Spike knelt at the end of the line, the amulet slung over his neck. A woman with dark hair stood beside him, hand on his shoulder.

Spike’s eyes were yellow and Veronica jumped backward when he lunged at her.

***

Veronica had entertained a half realistic dream that because Spike was now alive, whatever was going on inside her head would stop.

When she woke from her latest dream, she realized the unlikelihood of that ever happening and it was like an icy chill settling over her. There was a moment when she simply let her imagination run free about what this would do to the rest of her life. She glanced at Logan beside her, sleeping, and grimaced. No, it was better not to think about this long term; what she needed was to understand the present.

This dream was different from the others, but it had the same feeling to it. Veronica was learning to differentiate between them. They each were pieces of a puzzle she had to put together, but they all meant something individually and they left her with a different sense of need at the end.

This dream left her filled with dread and a sense of foreboding, though she couldn’t understand what it meant. She hadn’t recognized anyone other than Spike or where she was.

More than that, though, she wanted to know why and Veronica was usually very good at finding out why.

She dressed for the day absently, trying to figure out how she was going to investigate places and people from her dreams.

Logan came up behind her and dropped a kiss on her head.

“Any dreams last night?” he asked. She nodded, filling him in quickly. “Any idea what it means?” he asked, anxiety flickering on his features.

“Nope,” she said, “but I intend to find out.”

She moved purposefully to her laptop and started a case file, inwardly scolding herself for not having done so sooner.

Logan let her go, a smile playing around his lips, like he was happy at the sight of her doing what she did best, but she knew he was still worried.

She ignored him getting ready behind her and then the sound of the shower while she typed up all she could remember from her dreams, the results of Mac and Tara’s research, and what had happened the day before.

Finishing a while later, she felt better and reached for the coffee Logan had thoughtfully brought her.

“You done getting it all out?” he asked her, poking his head in the bedroom.

“Yup,” she said, stretching. “I’ll need to go in to the office later to see about using some of the equipment there.”

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

“Research,” she said. “I’ve been freaking out about this for too long now and I intend to get to the bottom of who and what.”

“Sounds like you and Buffy had the same idea,” said Logan. “She called Angel this morning. He’s on his way.”

“I guess that’s good,” said Veronica, not ecstatic about the idea of more people around. Usually whenever she was knee deep in an investigation, more people were a hindrance rather than a help. “They can work on the supernatural ifs and I will find out the whys.”

“Angel’s a…detective, right?” asked Logan.

“I believe that’s what’s on his business card. That and a lobster of some kind,” said Veronica.

“Maybe they can help,” Logan said, shrugging.

“We’ll see,” Veronica said, not convinced. “I’ve never been too fond of our vampire friend.”

“That’s just Spike’s influence,” pointed out Logan.

“How is he?” asked Veronica.

“See for yourself,” Logan said, gesturing to the hallway. “No sense hiding in here when there’s so much fun to be had.”

“How generous,” she said, sweeping past him.

Spike and Buffy were in the living room. Buffy was standing in the doorway like a silent sentinel while Spike was pacing in front of the fireplace, muttering.

“Morning,” said Buffy tightly.

“Is he all right?” Veronica asked, somewhat pointlessly.

“I think it’s…guilt,” said Buffy. “I think having the soul back is driving him crazy.”

“Why?”

“Well, he tried to cut his own heart out several times,” said Buffy crisply. “He keeps talking about what a bad man he is and apologizing for things. I haven’t seen him this loopy since the First brainwashed him.”

“That was pretty bad,” Veronica agreed.

“So, what’s next on the to-do list then?” asked Logan.

“Beat Angel for answers when he gets here,” said Buffy. “Keep Spike from hurting himself. Try not to go crazy myself.”

“Did you sleep?” Veronica asked, examining her closely.

“We both did,” said Buffy, her face softening a bit. “But ever since he woke up, he’s been like this.”

“I’m going to go to the office,” said Veronica. “I need answers of my own.”

“I wish you luck,” said Buffy. “Sorry about bringing more people down on your head.”

“Logan can handle it,” Veronica said cheerfully.

He mock glared at her.

“I am not your homespun entertainer, my darling.”

“But you’re so cute you could be,” she said, giving him a kiss and then leaving again. Being in the same room with Spike while he was like that was making her unbearably sad.

Spike had been one of her best friends and when she’d lost him, she’d grieved for a long time. Seeing him hurt was not something she ever wanted. If she could postpone that and work on whatever was happening to her at the same time, she could handle that.

She made her way to the office, driving instinctively rather than actively. Her brain was busy worrying over the different pieces of information she had. Unfortunately, it had forgotten one thing: her father could read her like a book in person.

When she arrived he was knee deep in her files and she raised an eyebrow.

“Is this a visit of a personal nature?” she asked.

He lifted his head and started to smile, then frowned.

“Sit,” he said.

“What, am I grounded?” she asked, complying.

“No, just not sick, lying to me, getting me to handle cases you’d usually rather die than hand over to anyone else, and I’m guessing you’ve been making a lot of phone calls to a certain Slayer we know. How am I doing?”

Veronica inwardly sighed, but outwardly she simply smiled charmingly at him.

“Now, now, you’re going a little overboard with the protective bit, don’t you think? I do believe I am,” she pretended to count on her fingers, “almost twenty-five years old and have my own license and everything.”

“Veronica, what’s wrong?” he said, not buying it.

“Spike’s alive,” she said, giving in.

“What?”

“Well, undead. But not burned to a crisp at the bottom of a crater, so there’s that.”

“When did all of this happen?” asked Keith, sitting beside her.

“Yesterday,” she said. “Buffy flew out here. She, Tara, Logan, and I went to Sunnydale yesterday and found the amulet, which Spike then came out of. Apart from getting attacked by vamps on our way home, everything’s fine except Spike who’s not quite there. We’re trying to figure out why he’s back and that’s why I need you to cover my cases for me.”

“I’m happy to help,” Keith said, admonishing her. “I’m not happy to be lied to.”

“I’m not lying,” she said. “Not very much anyway.”

“Veronica.”

She knew when she was beat. She broke down and told him everything. Well, she kept the baby issues to herself; that was something she and Logan had to figure out before she went blabbing about it to anyone else. She told him everything about her dreams and how she’d been the trigger for it all.

“I’m trying to figure out what it means,” she ended softly, looking at her hands.

Keith was holding one of them tightly and he chuckled low in his throat.

“Only you, Veronica. I told you I was going to lock you up if you got involved in anymore magic.”

“I’m pretty sure you were kidding, if that’s any consolation,” she offered.

“A little,” he said. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s gotta be hard.”

“I don’t want to be dramatic and say it’s like getting some kind of bad diagnosis,” she said, “but I can’t help feeling like my life is going to be changed forever and not the way I’d wanted it to.”

“I’m guessing I won’t be a grandpa any time soon then,” he said casually.

“We’ll see,” she said and he didn’t push.

“Well, let’s put the old man to work,” said Keith. “The old man who is still twice the detective you’ll ever be and who will find many clues that you missed.”

“That is an awfully big boast,” Veronica said, unable to help her smile. “I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself and end up in the hospital.”

“I am in the prime of life, Veronica,” Keith said. “I can handle all your cases with one hand behind my back.” He grew serious again. “But please tell me when you need help with this. Do not, I repeat as you appear to have issues remembering such things, do not forget to update me as to what’s going on.”

She saluted him gravely and tried to tell him with her eyes how grateful she was for his support and that he wasn’t pushing her. He would have only a few years before, but he was the kind of parent who knew when to let go and yet still never be far away.

She settled in at the computer to keep her investigation going, comforted by the familiar motion and her dad working in the office beside her.

***

Buffy looked at the clock and then back down at Spike. He was huddled in the corner talking to something that wasn’t there. He hadn’t recognized her in the last twenty minutes and she was about five minutes from burning the house down.

Right on cue, Logan poked his head in the door, a tray of food in his hands.

“You’re really taking this entertainer thing to heart,” said Buffy.

“As Veronica commands,” said Logan. “You need to eat, after all.”

“I need answers,” she said.

“Alas, poor Buffy, there are no heads to bash,” he said. “Unless mine isn’t protected by virtue of not knowing anything helpful?”

She looked wistfully at his head for a moment.

“No,” she said reluctantly. “I guess you’re safe.”

“See, that’s why I remain ignorant,” he said cheerfully, sitting down after pouring himself a glass of something cool.

“Where is Angel?” Buffy muttered.

In the corner, Spike stiffened and began rocking back and forth.

“Shouldn’t have mentioned the A word,” said Logan.

Buffy sighed and sat down beside him, only to jump up a minute later.

“I’m not used to seeing him like this,” said Buffy. “Even when the First brainwashed him, he was more…evil than insane.”

“Guilt’s a funny thing,” said Logan, a tight expression on his face.

“Yeah,” agreed Buffy, sure an identical look was on her own.

They ate in silence for a while and Buffy was once again very grateful for Logan who had been carefully insolent with her ever since they’d met.

It was another forty-five minutes before Buffy’s cell chirped with a text, and she ran out of the room after she saw it was from Cordelia, opening the front door. A moment later, a dark Plymouth turned into the driveway and parked in the shadiest spot. A blanketed form rushed from the car to the house followed by the more leisurely forms of Wesley and Cordelia.

Buffy let the slightly smoking Angel inside before she very pointedly did not push him up against a wall and beat him to death, but instead silently led the way to the living room where Spike was still hunched over in the corner.

“Is this what you wanted for yourself?” she asked. “Or would it not have mattered since you already had your soul?”

“You made the decision to let him wear that, Buffy,” said Angel, his face worried as he looked at Spike. “I would have and you know that. You do not get to put this off on me.”

“What I want is for you to explain to me why you gave me something that would do this at all, whoever was wearing it!” she said.

Cordelia and Wesley came into the room then and stopped short at the tableau in front of them.

“Is this a private staking or can anyone join?” asked Cordelia, her voice loud in the tense silence.

“Hi,” said Buffy, and then turned back to Angel.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” said Logan, rising from the couch. “We have refreshments here, would anyone like one?”

“Iced tea?” asked Cordelia.

Logan nodded.

“Thank you,” said Wesley, following her. “It was rather a dry journey.”

“Gotta hate those,” said Logan, pouring everyone drinks and pointedly sticking one in Buffy’s face.

She glared at him before her shoulders slumped and she went to stand in the corner by Spike.

“So, what’s the deal?” she said. “Angel, tell me why Spike’s back.”

“You’re being overly emotional,” said Cordelia, sipping her tea. “This isn’t Angel’s fault. If he’d known what the amulet was going to do, he’d have told you. Some very tiny part of you should know that.”

“I swear I didn’t know,” said Angel and his voice was angry.

“Fine, good intentions all around,” said Buffy, though she wasn’t going to let this go for a while. “What can we do about it?”

“Why don’t we hear the whole story from the beginning?” suggested Wesley.

Buffy began the tale and Logan supplied details that she wasn’t sure about. Wesley actually took notes and Cordelia urged Angel to sit beside her, holding his hand. Buffy noticed that Angel’s gaze was mostly on Spike.

“That’s quite a tale you’ve got there,” said Cordelia. “So where’s Veronica?”

“At work, attempting to decipher her latest dream,” said Logan.

“How adorable,” said Cordelia.

“May I see the amulet?” asked Wesley.

Buffy nodded, pulling it from her pocket. She hadn’t let it out of her possession since the cavern. She’d been meaning to have Tara take a look at it, but Tara hadn’t been back yet.

Wesley took it carefully and held it up to the light.

“Shiny,” was Cordelia’s response.

“I did examine this when Angel originally procured it,” Wesley said, “but there’s always the possibility I missed something important.” He said it like he was expecting to be yelled at and Buffy thought about it, but he’d long ago proven his abilities and she wasn’t about to open those wounds again. “It doesn’t appear to be any different than I remember. Perhaps,” he said and muttered to himself, trailing off as he examined the necklace.

“I think we lost Wes,” said Cordelia.

“Buffy,” said Angel, “do you mind if I speak to Spike alone?”

“I’m staying if you do,” said Buffy, “but everyone else can go.”

Angel nodded like he’d expected that answer.

Logan and Cordelia took their cue and hoisted a still absorbed Wesley to his feet and escorted him from the room.

Buffy tried to remain unobtrusive as Angel stood and made his way cautiously to Spike’s corner. Spike stiffened as Angel approached and sniffed the air. He became the most alert he’d been since the night before and began laughing wildly.

“Spike,” said Angel, kneeling in front of him. “Do you know who I am?”

“Angelus, my Yoda,” cackled Spike. “You made me a monster, but I’m not yours and I won’t do it, not ever.”

“Do what?” asked Angel.

“I’m gonna be clean now,” said Spike. “Been clean for her, to be the kind of man who would never…”

“You have your soul back,” said Angel. “It’s hard, I know.”

“It’s all flames in here,” said Spike. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” said Angel. “You will do it.”

“Not my boss, not my sire,” said Spike, shaking his head.

“William,” Angel said sternly and leaned forward, lifting Spike’s chin so that he was looking him in the face. “You will listen to me.” Spike stared at him, transfixed, and Buffy watched with almost as much fascination. “You can be a good man. It hurts right now, everything you did, all the people you killed, they’re all inside your head, every single one of them.” Spike nodded. “It makes you want to drown yourself but that’s not the answer. You need a cause, something to fight for. Redemption. Buffy was the start of my redemption just like she was yours. Fight for her, Spike. Let her guide you and don’t be afraid. When it hurts you think of her and what you want to be for her.”

“I don’t know me,” said Spike.

“I do,” said Angel. “You’re reckless and irresponsible and annoying and sentimental and irreverent. You don’t pay attention to the rules, the proper way of things.”

Spike laughed, throwing back his head.

“Too bloody right,” he said.

“That’s better,” said Angel. “Now are you going to mope in the corner or are you going to get up and help?”

“What answer gets me far away from you?” asked Spike.

“Either, the feeling is mutual,” said Angel.

“Where’s the Slayer?” asked Spike, his voice clear.

“I’m here,” said Buffy, moving into view.

“Hello, love,” he said, scooting up the wall with a grace Buffy remembered well.

“Spike,” she said.

“You look good for five years later,” he said.

“You haven’t changed a day,” she said.

“How many times do I have to tell you your jokes aren’t funny?” he said.

“Always before I kick your ass,” she said.

He moved closer to her and he stopped just beyond touching her.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Are you back?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Sorry about the detour.” He nodded slowly. “Had to focus on a few things.”

“Planning on sticking around?” she asked.

“I got forever,” he said.

Buffy took a moment to look at him, blond hair, blue eyes, black duster she’d put back on him this morning. He was sprung alive in front of her, out of her memories. There was something new in his eyes though and she wondered if he would revert back to crazy, if he would actually be the man she fell in love with.

“As Spike?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Care to wager on it?”

She smiled.

“Kittens?” she suggested.

“Love me some kittens,” he said, pulling her close and leaning his forehead against hers. He inhaled as if breathing her in.

“It’s a deal,” she said and kissed him.

He was cold as always, but she seemed to burn hot enough for the both of them and he tasted familiar and comfortable like he’d never left and she fought to keep from crying while they kissed.

When they broke apart it was to a very uncomfortable Angel shifting from one leg to the other.

“Are you done yet?” he asked impatiently.

Spike stuck out his tongue at him.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

***

When Logan set the table for dinner he had to put in both extra boards at the table. He and Veronica weren’t exactly void of guests, but they didn’t entertain large crowds on a habitual basis either. It was certainly making life interesting. At least they had plenty of spare bedrooms. While he and Veronica both tried to keep from indulging too much in the expensive lifestyle that ruined so many other homes in Neptune, Logan had wanted to make sure their home was on the larger scale of small. They had two guest bedrooms that would eventually (he hoped) become bedrooms for children, and a large office that had a pull out couch. That didn’t even include the large basement that had its own full bathroom.

He tried to strategically seat everyone since there was more than enough tension to go around and he couldn’t believe he was the biggest arbitrator for peace in the house. That was definitely not his normal role in life.

The good news was that Spike had so far lasted a total of five hours without banging his head against the wall, and that Tara, Keith, and Mac would all be coming to dinner. Wesley had to be dragged away from his books, of which he’d somehow brought a vast assortment, but everyone else appeared eager for food.

Angel would sit uncomfortably for the most part since he didn’t appear to enjoy regular food as much as Spike, but, if Logan remembered correctly from their one joint apocalypse adventure, Angel cooked a pretty mean breakfast.

They’d ordered out again. Not that Logan would necessarily mind attempting to cook dinner for ten people, but neither he nor Veronica were that good in the kitchen and Logan was not about to ask Tara to do it for them.

Dinner was an interesting but still delicious affair, with their favorite Mexican takeout. Keith and Tara kept everyone talking on neutral subjects for a while with help from the surprising corner of Cordelia, but there was no way the subject wasn’t going to come around to their current situation.

“Have you come up with anything, Wes?” asked Angel.

Wesley toyed with his rice and looked up, startled.

“What? Oh, well, nothing as of yet. The amulet bears no markings or inscriptions, matches no descriptions. In some ways I would almost think it was conjured solely for the purpose of closing the Hellmouth. It has no sign of age either.”

“Could the Powers have simply created it when you came to them for information?” asked Buffy, addressing Angel.

“Anything’s possible with them,” said Angel.

“Do some more spot-checking next time, mate,” said Spike in a surly tone. He was no longer acting crazy, but he definitely wasn’t anything near to what one would call jovial.

“Next time there’s an apocalypse I’ll make sure and do a full appraisal before showing up to save the day,” Angel snapped.

“Easy, tiger,” said Cordelia. “Geez, could everyone stop being so uptight? Aren’t we all on the same team?”

“Never.”

“Not with him.”

Spike and Angel spoke simultaneously and glared at each other. Logan suppressed the urge to laugh, but exchanged amused glances with Tara and Mac across the table.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Mac. “How about I do some looking online for your amulet? There might be some things that aren’t in books.”

Wesley muttered something under his breath, but nodded.

“I would be happy to work with you,” he said stiffly. “If the amulet is brand new then there is likely nothing either of us could find, but it never hurts to search every avenue.”

“Atta boy,” said Logan.

“In the meantime,” said Buffy, “what else can we do?”

“Well, I’d certainly like to know more about my dreams,” said Veronica. “I’m pretty sure the city in my dream was Los Angeles. I don’t know who the woman is. I just wish I could take a snapshot of my brain. Pretty sure that it’s impossible to use facial recognition software otherwise.”

“I’d be happy to try and draw from your description,” said Angel.

Spike started laughing.

“Anything to draw charcoal women, yeah?”

“This is actually serious, not a joke,” said Angel.

“Right, I would have thought to you anything to do with me was a joke,” said Spike.

“Well, if you put it that way,” said Angel.

“Excuse me, little boys,” said Cordelia, “can we not jump into that particular centuries-old argument? Honestly, get some new material.”

“Cordelia’s actually right,” said Buffy, looking amazed about that fact. “We’re all glad you’re back, Spike, but we need to know why.”

“Speak for yourself,” muttered Angel, and Logan only caught it because he was sitting next to him.

“I’m done,” said Veronica, pushing away her food. “Angel, come with me, I want to get you working before I forget any more details.”

Angel nodded, pushing away from the table.

“If you come with me,” said Wesley to Mac, “I can show you the amulet.”

“Veronica, I’m going to borrow your camera to take pictures to upload,” said Mac.

“Sure thing,” said Veronica.

“I guess the rest of us are on dish duty,” said Logan, rising to his feet.

“I’ll help you out,” said Keith, grabbing the empty cartons.

Tara and Cordelia joined them in cleaning and Buffy and Spike were left sitting at the table looking restless.

Logan and Keith ended up doing the washing and drying portion of the cleanup and they worked companionably. Their relationship really had become much better since the wedding and a rather serious chat that Logan often woke up sweating about.

“She talk to you yet?” asked Logan.

Keith nodded.

“Just a bit this afternoon. How’s she doing?”

“I think she’s scared,” said Logan. “Yet, in typical Veronica Mars fashion, she is choosing to go after her fear tooth and nail.”

“That’s my girl,” said Keith. “I’ve promised her I won’t push on this, so you’re gonna have to do all of that, understand?”

Logan mock saluted him.

“Designated Veronica Mars Herder, as per usual.”

“Don’t let her get too wrapped up,” said Keith. “I’m trusting you, Logan.”

“I know we’ve got a couple of vampires in the house, but I didn’t believe that particular urban legend could come true,” said Logan.

“Just wash the dishes and take care of my daughter,” said Keith.

“We take care of each other now,” said Logan seriously. “That won’t change.”

***

Veronica described her dream woman (and didn’t that just sound weird?) to Angel and then sat back, letting him work. He frowned the whole time, his face steadily getting more and more serious as he drew.

Veronica attempted to think, while accessing her notes on her laptop. They were in the living room, Wes and Mac having taken over the office, and Cordelia had wandered in after finishing clearing the table.

To her surprise, Cordelia hadn’t attempted conversation, but simply sat down across from Angel and watched him work. She had glanced at Veronica every now and then like she wanted to say something, but never did. Eventually she got up and wandered to the end of the room, looking out of the window.

Angel stiffened suddenly and stopped what he was doing. Veronica looked up from her laptop. Cordelia didn’t move from her position by the window, her hand to her head.

“What’s wrong?” Cordelia asked.

“Cordelia,” said Angel. “This woman.”

“I know,” said Cordelia, turning around. “It’s...”

“Lilah,” they finished together.

Angel turned his mostly finished drawing around and Cordelia walked closer, while Veronica examined the woman from her dream, remarkably like what she remembered, despite the fact he hadn’t finished.

“I had a vision,” said Cordelia. “It’s Wolfram and Hart.”