When You See Me Again

Chapter 18


Hours later, Spike woke to a feeling of complete happiness. Looking down over at the blonde beauty that he had rode to a startling finish, he smiled. He sat up and slid down the bed slowly, tying not to wake her. He didn’t know what had come over her, nor did he care. All he knew was he didn’t want anything to take this away.

His hand wandered to her groin, where it rested for a moment on her curls. He snickered, she wasn’t a real blonde, but he already knew that. She was nicely trimmed, and slightly sticky. One for the team.

Spike reached down and lightly prodded her legs apart, finding the treasure he was looking for. His mouth watered a little and he leaned down, kissing the tiny triangle, before he went for it. He licked down her slit, lapping it up happily. He felt her stir and he smiled to himself, but continued his work.

He felt her put her hand on his head, pushing him back down when he wanted to see her face. He liked that.

He heard a noise coming from the ladder to the crypt and sat up, looking through the darkness, as he threw a sheet over her body. What he saw was something he never in a million years he would have dreamed of.

Himself.

“What in the hell?” He spoke a little louder than he’d intended, but that was to be expected, considering the circumstances.

The other stood there and just gaped.

Buffy sat straight up, looking back and forth at both of them, shock and embarrassment creeping into her face. “Who?”

The other turned, just as quick as he came and headed back upstairs. “No,” she whispered.

Spike looked down at her, something becoming very clear to him, very quickly. “You didn’t want me.”

She grabbed her clothes, tossing them on as she went. “I wish it were that simple, Spike.”

He stood, the sheet falling to the bed behind him. “You go to him, but you’ll just be thinking of me.”

Spike was hurt, and Buffy hated doing that, but she was so confused. “Spike, please.”

He went over to her, looking her in the eye. He took each of her hands, one by one, and kissed the palms. Then he did something she never thought he’d ever stoop to.

Spike, her former nemesis, was on his knees.

“I meant what I said, pet. I do love you.” She went to talk and he caught her to the quick. “I can be a good man. I know what I say and what I do aren’t always what you need, but I….” He trailed off, his throat was choking up and he felt like he’d die—again.

“Spike,” she went down to his level, “I know. Believe me, I know more than you realize, but I have to fix this. Do you understand?”

He closed his eyes and pulled both of her hands to his chest. “No, I don’t!” He was yelling now. “You were with me, not, not with that wanker!”

“That wanker, is you, and I think you know that.” She spoke calmly, her voice firm, so he’d know she wasn’t lying.

He pulled away and sat on the cold floor of the room, his legs pulled to his chest. He reached over to a stand that was close by and grabbed a bottle of whisky, and threw the lid across the room. “Go.” He said flatly.

“I’ll be back.” She turned and walked upstairs, heading up the ladder.

When she got up there, she heard him yell from below. “I meant what I said, Buffy. You’ll never be alone. Never again!”

Her eyes teared up and she quickly wiped them off, and left to find the one she was supposed to find.


Chapter 19


Giles was in the living room drinking a cup of tea, when Spike came through in like a black hurricane. The door flew off its hinges and landed near the breakfast nook. A growl erupted from his throat as he reached his bags. Stuffing things in, the Watcher sat there, mouth agape, cup in hand. Giles was ever so sure that now would not be the time to ask Spike about what was wrong.

“Goodbye, Watcher!” Spike turned as quickly as he came, and walked back into the night.

Giles reached for the phone. Dialing a number, he waited, and finally spoke. “Hello. Willow? Yes, it’s me. I think there maybe a problem I’ll need your help with….”


Buffy walked into Willy’s Place with the full intention of being civil to the patrons. She was determined to make this a pleasant visit for everyone involved.

Going to the bar, she leaned over and looked down to where the bartender was handling money for some slimey looking demon with 5 arms. Oh, wait, she thought to herself, that last one isn’t an arm. Blaugh!

Impatience clearly written on her face, she slammed her fist down on the bar, signaling for someone to help her. Willy, the proprietor, walked over cautiously, drying a chalice with a terry cloth towel. “What can I do for you, Slayer?”

“Need information, Willie. Have you seen Spike in here in the last few minutes?”

He dodged her eyes, centering them on said chalice. “Nope, haven’t seen him in a couple of days, Slayer! Be happy to tell him you’re looking for him if I see him though!”

She reached over rather quickly and slammed his forehead to the edge of the counter. “How about now?”

“Ok, ok, ok! I saw him leave out the side door just before you came in, saying something about cows. Is that enough for ya?”

“Yep! Thanks for your help!” She bounced out the door the coward had pointed to.

Entering the alley, she looked down it both ways. It was entirely empty. “Spike?”

She waited a second before calling again, “Spike!”

Deciding to head down the right way, she looked between dumpsters and trashcans, in case he was hiding. “Spike! I know you’re out here!”

From far down the other end of the alley, she heard a reply. “I’m leaving this hell Slayer!”

Turning around, she saw him standing in near darkness, only shining of the duster letting her know where he was. She ran to him and stopped just short of slamming in to him. Then reached her hand out and ran it down the lapel of his coat. “I am so sorry.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, “No, you’re not, but thanks for saying it.”

Buffy’s hand shot out and slapped him. “I am more than confused right now. You have no right to pass judgment on me!” Her chin started to quiver and she slapped him again. “If you would have told me what was going on a hell of a lot sooner, this wouldn’t be happening!”

Despite the pain she was causing him, he smiled. “Pet,” he began, “I have more than enough patience right now, but if you don’t quit hitting me, I don’t know how long that’s gonna last!”

Anger flashed on her face and she stepped back a foot or so. “You did this! Fix it yourself!”

“Buffy, all I want is to be bloody free of this existence! I want to go home and die if that’s what was supposed to happen! Hell, right now, I’d bloody well like being tortured by a siren to the point of madness, than have to live with the fact that I love you, and I know there’s not a bloody thing I can do about it!” He held his hands up in surrender and turned to walk away.

“You do not get to walk away! Turn around Spike. Now.” Her voice went calm and he stopped, but did not turn around.

“Go be with him, Slayer. Just don’t ruin him, okay?” He started walking again, striding down the alley as fast as he could without looking like the frightened man he was becoming.

She stood there, watching him go, while it started to rain. When he was gone, and only then did she start to cry. Arms surrounded her then, pulling her close. She buried her face into the leather that was there and just shook as she sobbed. Then she looked up.

The other Spike. Her Spike.

Buffy closed her eyes again and cried, confused as hell, but more than that, she was sad.

He picked her up and carried her to an enclosure a few doorways down. She had calmed a little, and was trying to wash away what there was left as evidence of her breakdown. He put her down, and pulled her stringy, wet hair away from her face.

“He loves you too?” It was quiet and he had lit a cigarette right after it.

“Yeah. He’s from—“

“The future. Yeah, kinda figured that out for myself, love.” He raised his eyebrow. “Want me to find him and bring him back?”

“I want to know what in the hell is going on! If that means hogtying him and bringing him back here, then yeah.” She looked back down the way he went; half hoping he’d turn back. Spike shrugged, then thought for a minute.

“Listen, Slayer. Go back to my place and make yourself comfortable. I’ll meet you there with some answers, alright?”

Buffy nodded, and walked slowly toward the home of her undead lover.


In a dark corner of that alley, a bright blue light shot out of the dark and headed the way both vampires had headed.

Chapter 20


For the sake of those reading this story, let’s make things simple regarding who is who. Spike is the one from Buffy Season 5, or the season we are currently on. Ensouled Spike means the Spike from Angel Season 5. If that will quell everyone’s anxieties for the next little bit, then it works for me. Happy reading!!


Back at the crypt, Buffy had made herself comfortable on the bed that Spike and her had just shared. Her tears had dried and for the moment, she was calm. Time was passing very slowly, and she was sure that days must have gone by in the hour or so she was alone.

All at once, three things happened: A scream was heard. A light poured into the lair from above. A bundle fell from the ladder hole.

She shot off the bed and ran to the bundle. Pulling it open, she saw that it was Spike, his mouth duct taped, and present or future, she wasn’t sure. He was beaten and tied…. No, hogtied. She looked up and saw Spike smirking down at her. “Got him here for you, love.”

She looked at him with annoyance. “What the hell was the idea behind throwing him down here?”

“He felt the need to kick me in my crotch! The scream you heard—was me, not him!” He looked down at Ensouled Spike with something mirroring glee. “That’ll teach you—or us—or who bloody ever!” He walked over to the various stands and lit up the candles strewn all over.

She shook her head and started to unwrap their captive. He sputtered when she took off the duct tape. “Bloody hell, woman! You have done some crazy, fucked up things in your life, but this takes the godforsaken cake! Get me out of here right bloody now!” He howled the last part.

She pulled and cut when she needed to. Spike sat down on the bed after roving his boots, duster, and shirt. “Would you like my help?”

Cutting the last rope bit free, he shrugged at the look of death she gave him. “Shut up, Spike.”

Ensouled Spike got up off the floor slowly and wiped himself off. “Okay, Buffy, he said condescendingly, “What in hell is so important that you and your psycho boyfriend decided I just had to be kidnapped? Can you tell me why you deemed that absolutely fucking necessary?” He stalked over to her.

He was upset, she could understand that, but what do you say?

“I told you, you didn’t get to walk away. The other Spike, my Spike, well, you know, he gotcha for me!” She finished with a bright smile.

“Well isn’t that a real treat! You need help, Summers! I mean, like a vacation to the funny farm, that’s what you need!” He went to the other side of the room, determination set in his jaw.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She said softly.

“What?”

“I asked you why you didn’t tell me.”

He shrugged, “Because I’m a right bastard and I decided that you didn’t need to know.” He crossed his arms in front of him. “What? What does it matter now? You’ve got him—well, yeah, he’s technically me, but Jesus!”

She looked over to Spike who was sitting on the bed, his arms behind his head, enjoying the show. “Don’t mind me!” He grinned, curling his tongue behind his teeth.

They both yelled, “Shut up!”

He mumbled something intelligible.

Ensouled Spike tilted his head and looked at her. “You know, I wished it was me that you slept with, when you slept with Angel. Did he tell you that?” He gestured over to the other one.

“No.”

“Did he tell you that the whole time you were fighting Angelus, he wanted to save you—keep you for his own?” Did he tell you that?” He started to shrug off the duster, laying it on the floor next to him.

“No.”

Ensouled Spike pointed to himself, “I would have. But you know, we never had the time. I was always worried about changing the future, hurting your feelings. Now I really don’t give a rats ass if you cry for the next two years! How do you like that one, Slayer?”

She sat down where she stood and wrapped her arms around herself. “Quit being the pig, Spike. You aren’t good at it anymore!”

The present Spike sat up in bed a little higher, looking a little closer at the Ensouled one. “You have a soul, don’t you? That’s the difference, you bloody pillock! You have a goddamned soul! Suppose you went and got it for her didn’t you?” He started to stand up.

“Spike, sit. You have no idea what he’s been through. None. You are the reason he is the way he is, so shut the hell up!” She turned to look at both of them in turn, tears running down her face.

Spike got off the bed anyway and crouched down by her. “Do you want him or me?”

“Well, that’s the million dollar question, no isn’t it?” The Ensouled one smarted back. “She wants you, you already had her. Used goods, she is.”

Buffy slumped her shoulders in defeat. “I quit.” It came out as a sigh.

“You can’t quit, you’re the center of the whole goddamned mess!” Present Spike yelled. “You love me don’t you?” His bright blue eyes searched hers for the answer.

“Yes, I do.” So much for getting this all figured out, huh, she thought to herself.

He smiled to the other, stood up with his hands on his hips. “She doesn’t want you, you can leave.”

Ensouled Spike walked over to her and crouched down, “I want to talk to you, just the two of us. Think the Magnificent Peroxided One can handle things on his own for a while?”

They both looked over to the present version of him, leaning against the footboard of the bed. “Yeah, go.” He waved a hand at them and turned to the bed. He crawled in, like the predator that he is and laid down, all comfy. “Just make sure the two of you come back, okay?”

She stood up, wiping her face. “Okay. Wait, where are we going?”

The future version of her lover smiled. “We’re going to Gilroy. Fancy a ride pet?”

When she looked confused, he just took her hand and helped her out of the crypt.