-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Poem within the story is "But I Can't" by W.H. Auden.

-Summary: Series set 100 yrs after "The Gift," Season five finale. This is part AU and futuristic. Spike has been alive for 100 hundred years after Buffy's death. Whistler comes to him to let him know that Buffy has been summoned to fight a new evil. Therefore she will be brought back to life and needs a "guide". When Buffy wakes she finds that the only one to cling to is the only person left from her past. This is a B/S fiction.

-Rating: Overall rating of series is R. (Language and Violence)

-Spoilers: I will mention everything thaat has happened through "The Gift".

-Distribution: The only people that havee permission to post these series are those who already archive my fiction and have asked me for permission. If you want topost it please ask me. I'll be happy to let you. I just want to know where my fiction goes.

-Author's Note: I adore Feedback, so pleease let me know what you think of the story so far! bih80reviews@yahoo.com

-Special Thanks: Hilary, Ophelia and Allison who did this beta for me--thanks guys!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time will say nothing but I told you so

Time only knows the price we have to pay:

If I could tell you I would let you know.

He could hear the voices around him but all he could hear, see, feel, was her. Those dead hazel eyes with a hint of emerald green that stared at the empty space.

Suddenly he was back.

One hundred years ago. Under that tower. Her body distorted on top of the debris.

Dead.

No, it couldn't be, this wasn't happening. His brain was running at a hundred miles an hour.

He couldn't breathe; he didn't need to -- but he felt himself dying one piece at a time. As if the dead cells in his body had finally decided to disintegrate. He felt like ashes and stone.

"Buffy?" he asked to the empty air.

No answer.

He looked back down at her.

A small trickle of blood ran down her chin.

He choked back a sob, but that did nothing. As he looked up he saw they had arrived in front of his building. The players' headquarters

Not one of them could meet his eyes.

"Zeta?" he barely asked.

The woman looked down, scratches marred her face, "I'm sorry."

He swallowed.

In the distance he could hear Vanessa start to cry, she wanted to know why Buffy was not awake -- Lucy took her out of the car and thee rest of them followed.

They left him there. Alone.

So alone.

He felt the wind shift around him and without looking up knew who was there.

"'lo Whistler," he said in a melancholic voice.

The demon sat next to him and reached out his hand to smooth back Buffy's hair. Looking down, he gave Spike a comforting look.

"I told you from the beginning not to get attached." He softly reminded him.

So they were back to being pals now.

Spike nodded.

"You said you had forgotten how to love."

Spike nodded again, studying Buffy's face.

"What happened?" the demon asked in a low voice.

Spike swallowed convulsively and took a deep unneeded breath.

"Remember in '56, you asked me what I regret most in life."

Whistler nodded and smiled. "It was a good year, that one."

"We were drunk as fuck." Spike smiled remembering.

"That we were, kid."

"Remember what I told you?" Spike asked the man.

Whistler waited for him to answer his own question.

"I said that I would live one hundred years just to see her one more time. That I would die a happy man, just to hold her one more time, just to smell her, to look into her eyes and get lost in them…but you know what?" Tears started to mar his face. "'s not enough. For a smile, a kiss, a hug…only makes you want more. Makes you want to have her for eternity. And…"

A thick sob erupted over him.

"…I…can't live…" Sob. "Without her…I did once…I can't…" Sob. "I love her…always have…even when I knew she wasn't mine. But now…now that I tasted her love…" Sob. "I can't. I don't have it in me ol' man."

Whistler let him cry for a while as the vampire held on to the limp body, rocking it back and forth.

Crying, he didn't hear the soft Latin chant twinkling in the air around him.

When he raised his head he was no longer in the van, no longer in Bogotá. No longer on earth.

Buffy was gone from his arms, and wildly he looked around, frantic for her.

"Welcome, lower being."

The voice was booming.

He sighed; he really didn't have time for this.

He watched the two twins appear before him. "Hansel. Gretel." He greeted.

The female narrowed her eyes.

"William, you should show respect." she scolded.

Spike threw his arms back and laughed. A loud, sickening laugh that rang throughout the temple.

"Well forgive me if I don't give a bleedin' fuck!" He spat out.

They watched as he started to pace the room.

"I mean explain somethin' to me - cause with this pathetic human brain of mine and the whole 'lower being' thing I obviously can't understand." He made a motion signaling his head. "I mean, fifty years. Fifty bleedin' years and this is my reward?" he cried out. The oracles watched him, silent.

"I have gone out night after night, doing your bidding and when I ask for a sliver of happiness all you can do is turn and look the other way! Ignore me and go back to being considered the lower being with the fate of the world on his shoulders." He spat out. "Well…news flash, goldies! I quit! I bleeding quit!" He kicked a marble column. "Now you have no warrior, no pacificador, no soddin' fool to do your dirty work. Good luck finding a vampire that gives a fuck!"

Breathing hard he finished his rant and looked back to the oracles. The female's face was decorated with a compassionate smile that almost took the air out of him. He'd never seen her smile.

"You're a good man, lower being," her voice echoed throughout the room, surrounding him.

The brother came closer.

"We have watched you fight the war between the darkness and the light. You have served your duty well." He told Spike.

Spike snorted. "Well a whole lot of shit load that made."

Silence

The room shook as they reprimanded him.

He glared at them. He hated those mental whips .

"As a reward for your faithful service we will give back that which you love. But be warned. This will be her last chance. The next time she dies is final. Not even the powers will help you then."

Both spoke at the same time.

Spike stood there confused. "What?"

"The slayer. She will be returned to you," the sister explained.

Spike wondered if he could fall into dust from happiness. He felt like hugging them, like fucking, like singing, like getting drunk all at the same time.

An unexplainable smile appeared on his face.

"Thank you." He told them sincerely. "But I have one request."

The twins stopped and looked at him.

"You say that the next time will be her final time." The male nodded. "Then," he looked down to his feet. "Take me with her when it happens."

Both of them stared at him in shock.

"Please." he begged. "If it's tomorrow, in a year or fifty years from now…all I ask is that I don't live without her."

The next moments felt like years as the oracles considered his request.

Finally the female nodded. "Then our payment is fulfilled."

The next thing he knew he was hunched over Buffy's body back in the van.

He looked up and found Whistler had disappeared, and light was spilling out on the horizon. He knew he must have been 'out' for hours.

He desperately looked down at Buffy's body.

"C'mon, baby," he whispered to her.

She didn't look as pale, and color was slowly returning to her cheeks.

"Buffy?" He said, grabbing her shoulders. "Can you hear me?"

He turned her over and saw that her wound was completely gone. He could have leapt for joy.

His nerves were killing him. He shook her hard. "Rise and shine, luv!"

She moaned but her head rolled limp to the side. Ok--that was it, Spike had lost his patience.

He pulled his hand back and focused on giving her a good morning slap, but a strong small hand grabbed his before it hit.

"Don't you dare, bleachboy."

He looked down and there she was, smiling and alive, looking at him with real blood flowing through her veins.

"Buffy," he let out a loud breath of relief and hugged her small body against him.

"I thought I lost you," he muffled into her hair.

Buffy smiled at him. "You did."

He pulled back and stared at her. "Don't you scare the death out of me ever again!"

She simply pulled him down for a kiss.

"Tell me, does this mean I'm immortal or something?" she asked him when he pulled back. Her fingers traced little patterns in the nape of his neck.

He swallowed and avoided her eyes.

She saw his uncertainty. "Spike?"

He continued avoiding her eyes.

"What did you do?" she sat up and looked at him.

She was breathing hard and he smelled the worry on her.

"Nothing, pet."

"Look at me," she told him.

He lifted his gaze, and the pain was evident in his eyes.

"You made a deal, didn't you?" she more stated than asked.

He looked back down at his hands. "I needed you back."

Buffy stared at the bowed head and reached out and touched his arm.

"What did you give up?" she was afraid to hear the answer.

"Nothing," he told her truthfully.

"Then what is it, what's bothering you--I can feel it Spike, please don't lie to me." She begged him.

"I…" he wiped his face of the dry tears that he had cried over her fallen body. "They told me it was the last time. And pet, I am no Angel. I don't want to go by wandering 'round in pain--did the 'you dead, me alive' thing already, and let me say I lost some of my sex appeal in the process. It wasn't pretty."

Buffy watched him ramble; if she weren't so worried about what he had given up she would have been amused.

"Spike…" she warned.

"So I…" he started and looked at her. "I asked them for a favor."

Her eyes went wide. "Spike, what type of a favor?"

He let out a loud sigh. "I asked them that next time they take you, you know when it's your final time to go--Iaskedthemtotakemewithyou." He finished quickly.

Buffy shook her head, trying to make sense of his jumbled words. "What? Speak slowly and clear."

She could've sworn that if they had been standing up he would be pacing.

"I asked them to take me with you." He told her and then looked outside. "And they agreed."

Buffy could only sit there absorbing the information as he avoided her gaze and studied the awakening town outside of the van.

"No," she finally said, her voice sounded pained and hurt.

He turned to look at her.

"Pet, I had to…" he was choking up himself.

"No! Take it back, Spike!" she pleaded with him. "Please don't do this!"

She took his face in her hands, her green eyes searching him out. "Why, why did you do it? I would've wanted you to live!" she cried.

He grabbed her in a fierce hug and she responded, burying her head in his shoulder.

Before they knew it they were both crying.

"I can't. I couldn't," he told her as she shook with grief.

Buffy pulled back and touched his face, leaning her head to one side so she could study him. "I love you so much," she whispered.

He closed his eyes and leaned in to her, the car making it hard to hold each other properly.

"I'll stay with you…until we're both called. Until you live no more--the moment you leave I leave."

Tears ran down her face again. She shook her head.

"Spike, please…"

"I want to," he told her sternly. "Please, don't make me live without you."

She bit her bottom lip and finally nodded.

"So how long will that be?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "Who knows? But when it's time--it'll be time. Guess we'll have to make the best of it."

They kissed again, melting into the newfound addiction they had found in each other's arms.

When they finally pulled back, Spike leaned his forehead against hers. "We should go, Vanessa thinks you're dead."

Buffy pulled back. "Oh my god, I forgot!" she cried. "Did you kill Glory? And what about Loret?"

He smiled at her questions. "Both dead birds."

"And the Black Council?" she asked him.

Spike's features hardened. "We still have them on our backs, there were too many of them. Don't worry--we live to fight another day."

Buffy smiled at him. "C'mon, I think our baby is traumatized after this roller coaster ride."



If we should weep when clowns put on their show,

If we should stumble when musicians play,

Time will say nothing but I told you so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Something is wrong." The Senator paced the dark room. "How can she be alive--you said today she'd die!"

The witch looked at him impassively. "Apparently they have larger forces working for them."

"This can't be--this complicates things to the power of ten!"

"There is nothing we can do!" she told him. "Obviously, she is not meant to die."

"Don't tell me now you suddenly believe in fate!" he looked at her horrified.

"I believe in anything I can't see and all that I don't understand." She replied.

"They killed my god, they killed my warrior, took the girl and now the council is running scared, not to mention I lost a very valuable piece of property!"

The witch stood up and collected her things.

"Where are you going?" she continued to walk away. "You can't leave!" No response as she shut the door behind her. He was alone in the room. Blank walls and empty chairs mocked his solitude.

"I am a Senator!"

His voice echoed mockingly around him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are no fortunes to be told, although

Because I love you more than I can say,

If I could tell you I would let you know.

She watched as she fell asleep, her small body curled up with a new pig that they decided to call Son of Mr. Gordo.

She let out a small shiver in her sleep and Buffy knew she was dreaming. She rubbed her small back in gently circles.

The girl woke startled but Buffy was ready, waiting for her.

"I was scared," she told the slayer.

Buffy gathered her in her arms. "Told you I'd be right here when you woke up."

She rocked her back and forth.

"Where’s is daddy?" she asked.

"He went to get food." Buffy explained.

Vanessa rubbed her small fist over her eyes.

"Are the bad men going to come again?"

Buffy kissed Vanessa’s forehead as she leaned her head against her chest. "Nope—no one will ever take you away again."

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" the little girl asked.

Buffy smiled. Spike would just love that.

"Sure, c’mon—we can wait for daddy."

Vanessa followed her out of the room, clutching her pig to her chest as little bare feet padded lightly on the hardwood floors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,

There must be reasons why the leaves decay;

Time will say nothing but I told you so.



Spike tried to balance the two bags of food with the six pack on his other hand whilst trying to open the door.

"Bloody ‘ell," he cursed as he almost lost his balance. Thoughts of spending the night with Buffy filled his mind. He had tried to hurry home but the fact that nothing was opened at that time of night made it impossible.

He finally made his way to the bedroom, anticipation running through his veins.

As he swung the door open the scene before him both delighted and disappointed him.

Buffy, dressed just like Vanessa with a large with shirt that reached to her knees, sat on the bed painting her toe nails green, while the little girl giggled like crazy.

They both looked up when he came in.

Vanessa let out a delightful cry as she jumped from the bed and left traces of her green nail polish all over his Lauren sheets.

She grabbed hold of his leg as he tried to balance the food and the beer.

"And what are you doing up?" he tried to look down at her through the brown bags.

"Mommy said I could sleep with you!" she smiled happily at him.

Spike raised a brow and looked up to his love. "Did she now?"

Buffy rose from the bed and mouthed to him. ‘She was scared.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello?"

"Mr. Berrios?" the voice on the telephone asked.

"Who is this?"

"Listen carefully, be at the underground dome in twenty minutes, we have a meeting."

Trembling hands wiped his forehead. "I am through with the council."

"Twenty minutes. Be there or be dead."

Dead line.

He replaced the phone in its cradle and ran to the bathroom. Splashing water on his face he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He used to be a handsome man. Tall and muscular, with a sharp jaw and larde forehead. He used to have broad shoulders that gave him an air of importance; he used to have bright black eyes that sparkled with life.

But now, now he was withered away in to nothing. Following orders from people he didn't trust and placing his life on the line for a cause he no longer believed in. Running away would only allow him to survive for a few more weeks...maybe months before they found him and shot him down like a rabid dog.

No, this was not the way it was meant to be. He was the descendent of a proud line of people and he was not going to go out a coward.

He reached for the picture in the frame by the sink. The picture he had everywhere to remind him of who he was.

His great-great-grandfather Lindsay McDonald. Smiling, in his late fifties before his "untimely" death. Killed by female vampire who remained unidentified.

He looked at the picture for sometime. And he made his decision.

Reaching on the inside of his coat he grasp the metal barrel.

He made sure it was loaded and he cocked it.

Bringing it to his mouth he closed his eyes and said his last goodbyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,

The vision seriously intends to stay;

If I could tell you I would let you know.



She saw his eyes pop open and he glared at her from across the bed.

"What?" she whispered innocently.

"Oh, Daddy wouldn't mind," he mimicked her voice.

She smiled at him. "Do you?"

The little person between them stirred and they froze--they had tried for three hours to get her to sleep.

He shrugged and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again she was staring at Vanessa, gently rubbing her back and bending in for a small peck.

"I have to go," he told her.

She looked up at him, and her features went back from a loving mother to a business-like Slayer.

"Why?" She asked him.

He looked down and curled his fingers around the little girl’s hair, it reminded him so much of that time so long ago when he used to watch over Dawn when she fell asleep with him.

"This is not finished," he said.

She reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Let it go," she said.

Spike shook his head—if this didn’t end today it would never end.

It would multiply exponentially until they could no longer control it.

"I have to, luv — this is my job."

"Then I‘m coming with you," she started to get up.

"You want to leave her alone again?" he questioned her.

Buffy looked up at him and then down at the little girl. Last time they had left her for not even an hour and she had almost died.

"I’ll take Mario, and Dalton—it’ll be a clean sweep." He reassured her.

She cocked her head to the side and studied him. Her hand came up to brush back the curly white-blond hair from his forehead.

He took her hand in his and kissed the inside of her palm.

"Come back," she told him, her voice low in the quiet, cold room.

He gave her one of his signature smiles…actually more like a cocky grin that made you want to smack off of his face.

"Always."

She watched him kiss Vanessa’s head then roll out of the large bed without making any noise. Walking round to the other side he kneeled next to her. She shifted so that she could look at him. Gently their lips met and lingered together without opening their mouths to deepen the kiss. Just relishing in the feel of each other’s skin and the simple intimacy of the moment.

"I’ll be back," he told her and stood up, grabbing his shirt and coat on the way out.

Buffy watched until the door closed behind him and she cuddled her body to Vanessa’s, ensuring no harm would come to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

"Weapons."

"Check," Mario answered him.

"Map."

"Check," Dalton put in.

"C-4."

"Check," Lucy said, placing the paste carefully inside of the bag.

"Let’s head out." Spike hefted the bag over his shoulder and started walking to the door.

"Troll, protection spell," Spike reminded the man.

He nodded and started chanting.

Lucy sat and placed her earphones on. Typing away on her laptop.

"Let’s rock this joint," she told them over the secure line.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,

And all the brooks and soldiers run away;

Will Time say nothing but I told you so?

If I could tell you I would let you know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy watched Spike and the two other men walk out of the building from her dark window. She stared at his blond head until he disappeared into the van and drove off.

She sighed and said a little prayer.

Wrapping her arms around herself she stared out into a day that was cloaked in darkness. She really couldn't wait until it was day again. In the short hours of daylight things seemed to be 'normal'. If you would have asked Buffy Summers five years ago...actually make that one hundred and five years ago she would have told you she wanted to get married and have kids and for men to stop pestering her with "In every generation..." speeches.

She looked back at the corner were the van had disappeared from view. She hoped with all her heart that he'd come back.

Please come back.

She sighed and turned to get in bed with her baby when she felt it.

She froze on her spot and let her slayer senses take over.

She saw her literally materialize from the shadows.

Dressed in the same way she had last seen her, black leather suit, bright red hair in a ponytail.

Knife at hand.

"You didn't think this was over...did you?" Loret asked smiling.

The slayer returned her smile.

"Actually, I was hopping you were still alive." she stood in attack position. "Know what it feels like to be dead?"

"No, but I’m sure you do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next in the Series - October Dawn



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