Title: (Do I Dare) Disturb the Universe.

Pairing: Buffy/Spike, Buffy/William

Spoilers: Post-Chosen

Rating: R

Summary: Buffy attempts to bring Spike back, but doesn't get what she bargained for.

Author's Note: I've always wanted to write a Buffy/William fic. I think it would be interesting to explore who Spike was before, and the man inside of him. Plus it's hard to find any good William fics. But this is very much about Spike, his relationships, and the man inside of the monster. I hope that even if you don't normally read William fics, you give this story a chance.

Disclaimer: None of it's mine.

Distribution: Take it if you like it, but please email me first.

Chapter 1

It took a year. A long, hard, painful year, but Buffy finally did it. She pulled her life together and figured out her place in the world. On May 20, 2003 she was homeless and free for the first time in her life. Exactly one year later she had her own apartment, a good well-paying job, and she was enrolled in summer courses. Dawn was finishing her third year of high school, a smart, well-adjusted, responsible young woman. To the casual observer, things seemed to be going well indeed.

But Buffy wasn't happy, not quite. The shadow of her dead lover loomed over her, and she couldn't shake him. Spike remained alive in her dreams and her heart, and she couldn't even look at any other man, much less consider moving on. Nobody spoke of him or brought him up in anyway. And that hurt the most. Could they all so easily move on and forget his sacrifice? They didn't know him. Only Buffy did, and she couldn't forget him.

It wasn't an obsession though. Buffy could easily function in the world, and during her busy days she didn't give him a second thought. She couldn't, she had far too many other things to think about. But at night, her time was hers and hers alone—and that is when her thoughts wandered.

Her favorite memory was easily their last night together, and for the past week, it had been foremost in her mind. For one glorious evening, nothing stood between them. There were no barriers, no hesitation, no regrets, or second thoughts. Buffy had opened up to him in ways that she never had before, with anybody. And in turn, he filled her with the most passionate love she had ever known. It was as though he knew it was his last chance to touch her. Maybe he did know.

When Spike had stood up to meet her that night, she knew. She knew that he could wrap his arms around her and take her from this world of suffering and regret. All she had to do was trust him, and so when he hesitantly kissed her, she didn't push him away. When he grasped the back of her neck, she arched towards him. When he reached for her buttons, she helped remove her shirt.

He had started gentle, and Buffy understood that tonight there wasn't any room for the rough stuff. His tongue followed his slightly calloused fingers down her body, across her nipples, into her warm depths. And she returned the favor the best she could. She couldn't say the words, they didn't match her feelings, she didn't know how. Buffy's best tool, her best weapon, was her body and she used that fact to the best of her advantage. If she couldn't tell him, she would show him.

But apparently, she hadn't done enough. His final words echoed in her ears every night. She should have done more, should have told him sooner, should have made him listen. She tried to tell herself that he denied her love so that she would leave. She tried to tell herself that he was being kind in his own way. But she didn't buy it.

Nobody suspected she was still in mourning, at least, she never gave them any reason to suspect it. But the burden of carrying the grief was almost enough to break her some nights, and she badly needed support. As time passed, this need did not lessen, only grew greater. And now, the night of the anniversary of his death, Willow sat across from her with troubled eyes and a furrowed brow.

"You want me to do what?" She asked slowly.

"Bring him back," Buffy repeated.

"Buffy, I can't do that."

"Why not? You brought me back."

"Buffy, that was different. That was so different. Besides, he was right."

"What? Who was right about what?"


"Spike was right. He said there is always a price, and there was. Osiris let me take you back, but he took someone in turn."

"Tara?"

Willow nodded sadly. "What price are you willing to pay, Buffy?"

Buffy didn't answer. She couldn't answer. Would she really be willing to sacrifice somebody to have Spike back? The answer, simply, was no. She couldn't do that. "There's got to be a way, Will."

"Even if we didn't have to worry about the price of the magic, there are other things we have to consider. For one, we don't have a body. That day in the Hellmouth, we were passing back and forth between dimensions. He could have been in a hell dimension when he dusted, which doesn't matter because he, you know, went dusty."

Buffy remained silent, knowing she couldn't respond to that.

"Also Buffy," Willow continued gently, "he may be in a better place. He did die to save the world, that's gotta count for something."

Everything in Willow's voice, all her words, her body language screamed I've learned my lesson, leave this alone! But Buffy couldn't back down.

"I can't live without him anymore, Willow."

Willow moved to Buffy's side and embraced her. "You're doing just fine, Buffy. In fact, you're doing great! Things have really come together for you."

Buffy's smile was watery and tight. "Things are fine during the day, when I work. But the rest of the time? Not so much."

"Buffy I want to help you, in the nice, old-fashioned, non-magicy-messing-around-with-the-natural-order-of-things kind of way."

"I understand Willow. But theoretically, is it possible?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Well, if we're just talking hypotheticals. I would have to get his body from somewhere. I wouldn't be able to resurrect it, there's nothing left to resurrect. The only way to get it would involve some dark magic and time travel, which isn't completely impossible, but far from easy. Once I got his body, I would be able to call his soul from wherever it's at, and fill the vessel."

"Just the soul?" Buffy asked. "Spike was more than that."

"The vampire part of him too? Jeeze Buffy, I don't know about that. Buffy, you aren't thinking about finding someone else to do this are you?"

"What? No, no of course not. I was just wondering is all. I'll probably feel better tomorrow."

Willow gave her friend one more, quick hug then stood up. "Buffy, I've got to go. Will you be OK?"


Buffy nodded, "Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm just going to take a bath and go to bed."

Willow promised to call and then left. Buffy sat up on the couch for a few more minutes, then retired to her bathroom. The bathtub wasn't very large or luxurious, but it held hot water, and at that second, that was all Buffy needed.

Willow's explanation of why she couldn't bring Spike back made sense, and there were several very important points that Buffy had glossed over before. Including the fact that Spike could be in heaven. Can we rest now, Buffy, can we rest? He deserved to rest, and she didn't want to take that from him.

Buffy stayed in the tub until the water was so cold that she shivered. She wanted to avoid going to bed for as long as possible. As soon as she fell asleep, she would dream of him and it would be the sweetest torture. She had the place to herself for the evening, because she wanted to be alone. Dawn understood without an explanation and made arrangements to stay at a friend's house, so she could stay up all night and sob like a baby if she wanted.

When the icy water forced her out of the bath, she poured herself a drink without bothering to dry off or even get dressed. The brandy slid down her throat, and the artificial warmth spread through her body, making her tingle and flushed. But it didn't dull the pain.

She wanted him back. She needed him to come back. She had promised Willow that she would let the matter drop, but she didn't plan on keeping that promise. Willow was not the only witch she knew, and she was certain she could find someone more than happy to help her out if the price was right.

This wasn't something Buffy was rushing into, or something she only considered lightly. She had been thinking about and dreaming about getting him back since the Sunnydale sign fell.

Finally, slightly drunk and exhausted, she stumbled into her bedroom. She curled around a pillow and pretended that Spike's arms were wrapped around her waist. If she closed her eyes tight enough and concentrated, she could almost feel him, almost smell him again. The closer she got to sleep, the more real he became.

You shouldn't fret so much, pet.

But I miss you.

I miss you too, but you've got to move on. Live.

It's been a year, Spike, and I can't stop thinking about you. I just want to be with you again.

You can't. You'll be fine, Buffy, I promise. You're strong.   

Make love to me?

I've got to go Slayer. Be a good girl. Let it go.

Buffy woke up, confused, with cool tears in her eyes. Just another in a long line of painful dreams. But this time, things were different. Her dreams were mostly memories, or thoughts of how things should have been. Maybe she should just listen to him, and let him go.

She had never been more indecisive over anything in her life. Her heart was telling her, begging her, pleading with her to do one thing, and her mind couldn't even fully wrap itself around the concept. She knew it was a bad idea, she knew she was setting herself up for failure and pain, and she knew she should move on and come to terms with her loss. She knew all of these things, but she didn't care.

Sleep would be impossible, so she didn't even try. Instead she got out of bed and sorted through her desk until she found her small, black notebook. The name and number she needed were on the last page; written hastily in pencil and almost faded away. She sipped at her bottle brandy, forgoing the glass completely, as she looked through the book.

Dorjan was a powerful witch she meant through Angel. He helped track down the new Slayers, and provided a few protection spells for her when she needed help and Willow wasn't readily available. He ostensibly was a good guy, but Buffy knew better. He worked for Wolfram and Hart, and regardless of what Angel said, they were not exactly good. Would it be terribly rude to call him at—Buffy glance at the clock—3 in the morning? Fuck it, this was an emergency. With a gulp of alcohol, she dialed the phone.

The phone rang six times, each unanswered beep increasing Buffy's anxiety exponentially. Finally, he answered the phone, and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief because he didn't sound sleepy or pissed off.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dorjan?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Buffy…Buffy Summers. Angel's friend."

"Oh, hey Buffy. What's up? Is there something wrong?"

"I was wondering if you could help me with a small…project."

"What type of project?"

"It's not really anything I could tell you over the phone."

"Want me to come over tonight?"

"If it's not too late, I would appreciate it."

"It's not to late for me."

"Great, I live at…"

"Oh, I know where you live. See you in a few."

Buffy replaced the receiver with a sigh of relief. Well, that was much easier than she thought it would be. Of course, now she had to think of a way to explain the entire situation to him without looking completely insane. A part of Buffy knew that was basically impossible.

She quickly got dressed and ran a brush through her hair. No point in scaring the poor guy away. She took one more swig of the brandy before hiding the nearly empty bottle in a kitchen cupboard She briefly considered putting on a fresh layer of make-up, but the doorbell rang before she had a chance.

"How did you get here so fast?" Buffy greeted as she opened the door.

"Teleporting. Pretty handy."

"Please, come in."

Dorjan was an intelligent, easy-going guy, somewhere in his thirties. The only word Buffy could use to describe him was cute. He had long, slightly shaggy black hair and a boyishly round face. His gray eyes usually twinkled in good humor, but turned a deadly shade of black when he used his magic. Buffy liked him, despite her suspicions that he wasn't entirely on the up and up.

"So, blondie, what's up?"

"You better sit down for this."

Dorjan complied, and Buffy sat down across from him on the coffee table. It took her several seconds to compose her thoughts before she was prepared to lay the whole story in front of him. He listened carefully, never interrupting the flow of her narrative. He was fascinated by her story, the drama and the complexity, and the beauty of it. Dorjan would never admit it to anybody, but he was something of a romantic, and something about their doomed love really spoke to him.

"So where do I come in?" Dorjan asked when she finally lapsed into silence.

"I want to bring him back," Buffy stated simply.

Dorjan whistled softly. "That's a pretty tall order. I can't even…"

"Resurrect his body, I know.  It's gone."

"There is something," Dorjan said slowly. "W&H has a spell to bring vampires back, but they come back as human. You'd have to turn him. That's how Darla came back."

Buffy shook her head. "No, I don't want to kill William again."


He sighed, "I don't know if I can help you Buffy. I don't know if I should help you."

"I can understand that this seems like a bad idea, but I have to at least try." She looked at him with large, pleading green eyes. Dorjan cursed his weakness as a plan began to form.

"What we need is vessel for Spike's soul, and his demon. Which means we need a body. It is possible to get William's dead body. I could, theoretically, pull it from the past right after he died but before he was sired."


Buffy frowned, "Wouldn't that mean Spike never existed?"

Dorjan nodded, "Kind of. It may be possible to make a copy of his body and then pull it from the past. It would be completely empty. Once we get it we could bring back his soul."

"You could do that?" Buffy asked, incredulous. This was much more complicated than she had ever imagined.

"I could try, but Buffy, I can't promise anything. A thousand things could go wrong."

"But it could go right to?"

"Yeah, it could."

"So, what do you need?"

"Everything I need, I can get at W&H."

"Will that get you in trouble?"

"No, but if anybody says anything, I'll tell them I'm working with your authorization."

Buffy frowned, "Why would you say that?"

"Because the boss man said that the whole LA branch of the firm is at your disposal."

"Oh, right. I kinda forgot about that."

"Then why did you call me?"

Buffy shrugged, "I thought I could ask you to do it as a favor."

He chuckled softly. "Right. Anyway, give me a few days. At least two, if not three."


Buffy nodded. "Ok, I can wait that long. Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Do you have anything of his? Anything of his at all?"

She shook her head. "It was all destroyed. He didn't own much anyway."

"Maybe Angel has something," Dorjan muttered.

"No!" Buffy burst out. "I mean, uh, I don't want Angel to know."

"Why not?"

"Because, I just don't."

"He's going to find out eventually, Buffy. This won't work unless we have a personal object of his. So if I were you, I'd figure something out."

"Well, I guess I'll have to."

"I'll call you tomorrow night and update you."

She took a deep breath. She was actually doing this. She was actually going to mess with the whole universe, time, space, and other dimensions to bring Spike back. The thought overwhelmed her, and made her feel slightly sick.

"Thanks for this."

"If you change your mind, don't hesitate to call."

"I won't change my mind," Buffy stated resolutely.

"Well good. At least you're sure." Dorjan stood up and Buffy followed him to the door.

"Have a good night," Buffy said as he opened the door.

He turned around, "You too. And Buffy? Get some sleep, you look like shit."

Buffy shut the door behind him and felt, for the first time in a year, that sleep was actually possible.