Summary: This is what would’ve have happened if Drusilla managed to get a killing strike on Buffy when she is chained up in Spike’s crypt during season five’s “Crush.”

Chapter is dedicated to one of the greatest Buffy characters of all time…

JOYCE

The call came early the next morning but Buffy wasn’t surprised. She had been waiting for it as early as when she had gotten home the night before. She knew he would call, if only to make sure, she had a feeling that he knew all along what Drusilla had planned.

“Hello Angel,” Buffy said into the receiver.

“Hey,” the vampire greeted softly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, all’s fine and dandy here in Sunnydale,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You know apart from the constant threat of apocalypse.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding Angel. Now what is this about?”

“Listen a couple of nights ago Wolfram and Hart tracked down Drusilla to do some uh… business for them.”

“Un huh,” Buffy said skeptically knowing that as usual Angel was leaving a few important parts out.

“Listen I meant to warn you earlier but I got tied up, I think she’s going to Sunnydale, I think she’s going to see Spike.”

“I know Angel,” Buffy said. “She did come and she did see him.”

“Oh,” he said and Buffy could detect more than a bit of guilt and sorrow in his voice. “So she is gone.”

“Yea,” Buffy said. “I’m sorry Angel.”

“No,” he said, “you did what you had to do. I’m just happy she found some peace at last. After what Angelus – after what I’ve done to her and made her do-”

“Angel Drusilla was a vampire,” Buffy said firmly. “She would’ve turned out evil no matter who sired her.”

“Yea,” he said. “Are you okay though? She didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“Couple bruises but I’ll live,” Buffy replied.

“Good but Buffy remember that Spike is dangerous and that he was obsessed with Drusilla more than anything. And once he figures out who dusted her he’ll be after you.”

“Take care Angel.”

“You too Buffy,” he said and then she hung up.

Buffy sighed and replaced the receiver.

“Drusilla was killed?” Joyce asked Buffy as soon as the call had ended.

“Yea,” Buffy said.

“Oh no,” Joyce said.

“Whoa!” Buffy jumped when she heard her mother’s voice surprise her.

“Geez mom you scared the wait a what?”

“You like?” her mom said as she modeled the black evening dress.

“It’s great,” Buffy smiled.

“Spike must be feeling awful,” Joyce said having obviously overheard the conversation.

“Is my mother’s response when she learns that a being of pure evil was finally destroyed.”

“Well I’m sorry Buffy,” her mom went on to say. “But Spike told me quite a bit about her and even though I agree she wasn’t a good person her passing has got to be hurting him dearly.”

“Great,” Buffy said. “One ruthless killer’s death is cause for us to worry about another ruthless killer’s feelings.”

“Buffy!”

“Hey think we should bake him a cake?”

“Buffy stop that,” Joyce said adamantly.

“Well what do you want me to do mom?” Buffy said and sat down in a kitchen chair. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for ridding the world of evil? Say: Spike sorry your ex-girlfriend dusted is there anything I can do to help?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Joyce said growing more than a little impatient with Buffy’s cavalier attitude on the matter. “And I’m not going to tell you what to do Buffy but what I will tell you is what not to do and that is to just write Drusilla’s death off as if it meant nothing to Spike. If even half of what he told me about his relationship with her was true then…”

“Then what?” Buffy demanded.

“I’m sorry Buffy,” Joyce said. “I know it pains you to hear but even without his soul Spike loved her.”

“Obsession and love can be easily confused mom,” Buffy retorted but Joyce could detect the subtle uncertainty in her daughter’s voice.

She smiled.

“In that case I hope that the gentleman I’m meeting doesn’t turn out to be a stalker,” Joyce said.

“Ooohhhh,” Buffy said. “Details?”

“For starters his name is Brian,” Joyce said. “He’s my date tonight for the Gallery’s new exhibit opening.”

“Your first date is going to be at work?” Buffy said and scrunched her face up.

“You don’t always get what you want Buffy,” Joyce said. “But to quote a famous musician: ‘But if you try sometimes, you’ll find, you get what you need.’”

“Huh?” Buffy said.

Joyce smiled.

“Ask Spike next time you see him,” Joyce replied as she gathered her things. “It’ll be a good icebreaker.”

Joyce turned to leave but before she did Buffy stopped her.

“You really believe that Spike loved her?”

Joyce turned and gave her daughter a loving smile of affection.

“I believe that with some people you really have to look past all the shades of grey before you can really see them for the first time.”

“Hmm Spike’s more like an annoying beige to me,” Buffy quipped.

“Goodnight dear,” Buffy’s mom said. “Don’t wait up.”

“Eeewwww gross!” Buffy said as her mom left.

Alone again Buffy sat down at the kitchen table and thought about what her mother had said. About what Spike used to be and what he was now. But mostly she thought about what losing someone you had loved for over a hundred years would be like.

She didn’t like where those thoughts led.

---

“Excuse me miss,” the gallery patron said to Joyce. “But where is the bathroom?”

“Oh go right down this hall,” Joyce pointed, “and take the first left. There you’ll see the signs for it.”

“Thank you,” the patron said and smiled as they left for the appointed hallway.

“Still working?” Brian said as he stood next to Joyce.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Not exactly the best place for our first date.”

“Nonsense,” Brian said giving Joyce a mischievous grin. “Since you’re getting paid you get to pick up the check for dinner.”

“You!” Joyce said and slapped him playfully on the arm.

He winked but then looked down the hallway that the man before him had gone down.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment I think I too need to visit the little boy’s room,” he said. “So you better not run off with some other young buck my lady. I’d hate to have to make a fuss.”

Joyce gave him a look of exasperation.

“Where else would I go?”

“An excellent conversation piece for when I return!” Brian punned and after giving Joyce a kiss on the cheek he made his way to the restroom.

Joyce looked at her watch and sighed. Another hour before the exhibit closed and then she and Brian really could go somewhere else. She loved her job, she did, and art was more than a passing interest to her. She was lucky in that she was one of the few people who could say that they loved the work they did. But there were times, especially after long days like the one today, when she wished she could be anywhere but here. And ever since her operation all Joyce had wanted was to spend more time with her two daughters. The near brush with death had opened her eyes to a lot of things and one of them was just how short her time here in this world really was making how she spent it only so much more important.

Still someone had to pay the bills. And since Hank had decided that he wanted no part in their lives anymore the responsibility of primary provider fell to her. Now more than ever she needed the work the gallery provided and more than once she had given thought to suggesting part-time work to Buffy. But whenever she seemed to get the chance to talk with her eldest daughter she always seemed so tired from her duties as the slayer. It broke Joyce’s heart and to even think of having Buffy take on more responsibilities would be more than cruel.

So Joyce just stuck her head to the grindstone and focused on providing them all with what they needed while wishing that someday things could change and allow each of them a less hectic lifestyle. She wanted to live. To enjoy life as much as possible and to Joyce that meant spending as much time with Buffy and Dawn as she could. She had started a savings account in hopes that the money she accumulated there would allow for the three of them to leave Sunnydale for a few days and take a vacation in some new and exotic place far away from the hellmouth.

Someday at least.

But not today Joyce thought and then smiled, and not tonight because for the first time in years, she had a date.

“Loony ponce,” she heard a familiar voice announce loudly from the far end of the room near the Van Gogh section. “Always with the sodden ambiguity. Just spell it out already!”

Taking a deep breath Joyce braced herself for a confrontation with the rude individual that was disturbing the serene environment but she then stopped short when she realized who it was.

“Spike?” she said surprised when it was indeed the vampire standing in front of the painting.

“Hmm?” he said as he turned and saw Joyce staring at him with a look of both surprise and anger sketched across her face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Wash it look like?” he stuttered and then retrieved the flask of bourbon from inside his duster.

“You’re drunk,” Joyce said.

“No,” Spike said as he threw back a mouthful. “But I’m trying.”

The woman sighed and shook her head. As hard as she may try to be angry with the vampire whenever Joyce saw him she couldn’t help but see him as just a little boy without any notion of just how his “rash decisions” and “mischievous behavior” effected others opinions of him. And then whenever he ran into problems, real emotional problems, that self portrayed image of the rebel bad boy just crumbled around him leaving him looking more stranded and alone than ever. It was all she could do to remind herself of just how much of a ruthless killer he really was.

But was he?

He certainly wasn’t like the much more mature and broodier Angel who was out for redemption. Whenever Joyce thought of the older vampire she had to suppress a shudder. The amount of damage he had done both to her, Buffy, and the others had been irrecoverable to say the least. Soul or no soul she would never condone a relationship between her daughter and a vampire. Although, she noted when she looked at the drinking vampire standing next to her, she had to admit that she would take Spike over Angel any day.

“Raging loony,” Spike muttered and it was then that Joyce took note of what he was looking at.

“Starry Night?” she said in surprise. “I never knew you had a fascination for the arts.”

“Pfft,” Spike snorted. “Darla and Angelus were always more for it. But Drusilla had a taste for it as well and that always made me shut my trap whenever we went to see an opera and what not.”

“Van Gogh,” Joyce said absently.

“Yea I knew the bloke,” Spike admitted.

“You did?” Joyce said suddenly interested.

“When I was alive at least,” Spike said. “Mum loved his art and I always made a point to bring her to some of his exhibits.”

“And you?” she prompted.

“Oxford,” he said. “Studied in the arts and literature. The man was inspiring I’ll give him that. Before he went insane he dedicated his work to helping those struggling with poverty – in an evangelical sense at least. The eleven stars for example,” he said pointing to the stars in the painting. “Many believe that they represent the eleven stars in Genesis 37:9.”

“Really?” Joyce said intrigued at what he was telling her.

"And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it his brethren, and said, Behold, I have dreamed a dream more; and, behold, the sun and the moon and the eleven stars made obeisance to me," Spike quoted on cue.

“Beautiful,” she said. Like Joyce had told her daughter she really believed that people had layers, some more deep than others, and that meant to never write a person off at first glance. However she never would have expected that Spike of all people would know so much about art.

“Yea,” he said. “Though the three of them liked to look at the stuff none of them cared much for reflection.”

“Many people believe that the town in the painting represents a sense of peace amongst the chaos taking place in the sky.”

“They do,” Spike acknowledged.

“But you don’t,” Joyce observed.

He shrugged and seemed like he wouldn’t provide an answer to the unspoken question but then after a moment, to her surprise, he did.

“What I think? No one’s really asked me that question in a long time.”

“Well I’d like to know.”

“Reminds me of Buffy truth to tell,” he gestured helplessly. “The dark structure on the left? Could be a sort of shrubbery up close or could be a mountain far off in the distance. Don’t matter too much, the point Van Gogh is trying to make is that it represents isolation from the rest. The slayer first and foremost will always be alone Joyce,” he said as if it were simple common knowledge that everyone should know. “And most of that time will be spent in the darkness of night. The sky represents the night’s chaos and evil that the slayer has to battle while the town represents something that she must protect, must defend.”

“And the slayer is the mountain?”

“Not the best metaphor but when you see just how indomitable it looks, how soaring, how it almost pierces the sky and darkness itself…”

“Poetic,” she said finding herself more mystified with the vampire than ever before.

“Poetic? Oh Joyce if you knew how horrible my work was.”

“Your work?”

“Oh balls,” Spike said.

“You were a poet?” Joyce said with a genuine interest in mind.

“William the Bloody?” Spike said reminding her of one of his most insidious accolades. “Yea great for a vampire but not for an aspiring poet.”

“Oh Spike,” Joyce said

“I never meant to hurt her,” Spike said as he struggled to control the tremor in his voice.

“I know,” Joyce said quietly. “But Spike you have to let her go.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” he said with a look of disbelief etched across his face. “Bloody hell Joyce it’s all I’ve been trying to do!”

“And Drusilla?”

Spike shook his head, “Can’t think of that I just bloody can’t because I know that if I do I’ll just end up lost all over again.”

“We each have to deal with grief at some point in our lives Spike,” Joyce said only to realize after that she had just admitted that Spike had some sort of guilt. She liked to believe that Spike loved Drusilla but she wanted to know it from him. “You really loved her… didn’t you?”

“Course I did!” he said harshly. “I still do dammit. Would’ve walked through fire for her I would have.”

“But Mr. Giles said that it wasn’t possible for a vampire to love without a soul,” Joyce said playing the devil’s advocate.

“Watcher rubbish,” Spike said. “One of the biggest problems with the bloody institution. Yea, I loved her; but that love was a one way street if you get what I’m saying.”

“I do,” Joyce said. “I have been there myself.” Thinking back to her earlier thought Joyce couldn’t help but voice her question. “Have you ever felt this way before? This guilt I mean.”

“Guilt?” Spike said in astonishment. “I don’t have a sodden soul! I don’t remorse-”

“Do you wish you could take back what happened that night?”

“Yes and no,” Spike said. “I don’t regret saving Buffy. I only wish she was never in peril to begin with! Wish that that night had gone down differently. If I could trade my life for my Drusilla’s well believe me I would do so in a heartbeat.”

“You’d be waiting for that heartbeat for quite a while Spike,” Joyce joked and she was relieved when she managed to get a smile from him.

“You never know Joyce,” he said.

“But there you see? Guilt.”

“You think?” he said. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this.”

“I can imagine,” she said.

The two stood together in companionable silence for several more minutes each lost in their own thoughts.

“Are you going to be okay?” Joyce said at last.

Spike didn’t say a thing for a moment as he kept staring at the painting.

“Yea,” he said at last with a sense of peace in his words. “I don’t know if I’ll ever move on though. It’s just that it still hurts you know?”

“I know,” she said and patted him gently on the shoulder. Joyce turned to leave and let the vampire stew in his own thoughts but stopped to ask a question that had been gnawing on the edges of her own thoughts. “You went to Oxford?”

“Yea,” he said. “Even had a degree. I would’ve studied more only my mum had taken ill and so I left university to be at her side.”

“How noble,” Joyce said and smiled. “I only hope that when this Glory business is taken care of that Buffy will return to college.”

“She will,” Spike said confidently. “Girl has a lot in the way of brawn but her mind has played the bigger part as to how she’s kept fighting for so long.” He smiled, “She’s smart. You’ve done a right good job in raising her Joyce.”

“You wrote poetry?”

“Uhh yea,” Spike admitted and feeling more than a little embarrassed. “Always rubbish and good only for kindling.”

“I’d like to hear it sometime,” Joyce said giving him a smile of compassion effectively rooting Spike to the floor in shock. Joyce only chuckled and said, “Feel free to come by the gallery anytime you wish Spike and maybe even after you and I could sip some hot chocolate.”

“Uh right,” Spike said still in disbelief

“Goodnight Spike,” Joyce said and left to go see if she could find Brian.

After all he was her date.

---

“No luck?” Xander said when Buffy entered the Magic Box with a look of frustration on her face.

“Less than none,” Buffy muttered as she grabbed a chair and sat down.

“What happened?” Willow said. “You didn’t go to see Spike did you?” The guilty look on Buffy’s face said it all. “Buffy…”

“He wasn’t there Wills and I don’t think he’ll be coming back either,” Buffy explained. “All of his stuff was packed up and whatever he left behind he burned.”

“Good riddance,” Xander muttered hoping that the vampire had left Sunnydale altogether.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that,” Anya said from behind the counter. “What? We’re facing off against a hell god here people. Forgive me if I like the idea of having another super strong fighter on our team.”

“It’s more than that,” Buffy said, “Spike had connections. He knew the demon world and could scrounge up information that we can’t get anywhere else. And like Anya said, whatever his reasons were, he was a valuable fighter to have with us.”

“Yea and he also tried to kill you a few nights ago,” Xander said with more than a hint of anger in his voice.

“He killed Drusilla!” Buffy said pounding her fist on the table. “That has to mean something.”

“A lapse of judgment?” Xander argued back.

“Buffy I don’t mean to make things more difficult,” Willow said, “but Xander’s right this is Spike we’re talking about. In the end he’s evil and to turn a blind eye to him now will leave us vulnerable on two fronts.”

“Glory,” Xander said.

“Look,” Buffy said. “Two fronts? Try four with Robo-Slut on the loose and not to mention those renaissance festival guys. Any luck on that list of names Wills?”

“Yea,” Willow said handing Buffy the list of the potential suspects.

“Great,” Buffy said as she looked through the names and their addresses. “I’m going to get started, wish me luck.”

“Luck,” Willow said.

“And I still don’t think we have to worry about Spike,” Buffy said.

BREAK

He had finished packing his meager belongings into the back of his Desoto and so returned one last time to his crypt to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind. At least that was what he had told himself. Though he had been here for only a little more than a year during that year the place had come to be home to Spike. Unfortunately though as what happens to many spouses after their loved one dies anyplace that holds specific memories often becomes a place of avoidance.

Spike just couldn’t keep sleeping in the same place he had killed his beloved Drusilla he just couldn’t.

And so after agreeing to help Willie by playing bouncer on the weekends when the more rowdy demons visited the owner had agreed to allow Spike to stay in the extra room he had been using for excess storage. He hated having been reduced to negotiating with the human but unfortunately Willie had finally figured out that Spike was handicapped when one time Spike had went to far and hit Willie causing the vampire to double over in pain. After that things had changed but thankfully, for Spike, Willie was smart enough to realize that the chip would most likely only be a temporary ailment. So the human wisely chose to keep his mouth shut as long as Spike would be more reasonable with his requests.

“Buffy?” he said when he had tried to discern the reason for Spike moving out. Though he obviously didn’t know what had happened Willie could still be very intuitive and he figured that whatever had happened had affected the vampire deeply.

“No.”

“I see,” Willie said and that was all that was said. “Well go ahead and feel free to throw most of that crap out to make room for yours. Much of it has been collecting there for years.”

“Thanks,” Spike had nodded and left to see what would be his newest living situation.

That had been this morning and after last night’s discussion with Joyce Spike realized that if he were to ever fully move on then he needed to be out of that crypt. After a thorough check of the top level of the crypt Spike reluctantly checked the lower level. The dust had long since been scattered about and now was indistinguishable from the rest of the clutter of the crypt.

Walking over to his “Buffy Shrine” Spike took down his favorite photo of Buffy as well as one with her, Dawn, and their mum. Gently placing them inside his duster Spike then took out his lighter and set fire to the rest of the shrine. Lighting a cigarette Spike watched as the fire began to grow larger and larger. Spike looked on disinterested until he at last finished his cigarette and left the crypt never to return.

To Be Continued…

---

Disclaimer: No I don’t own Buffy or any of the show’s characters.

A/N: As some of you may realize this is not the same user account that this story was originally posted under. However I am still the same author and am moving this and my two other Buffy stories to my original account so as to make it more centralized with my other work. I hope this doesn’t become too much of an inconvenience. Thanks all and have a happy valentines day!