Part 6

The next minutes are a blur. We get back to the Council building, and are immediately escorted to the room I ran from. Giles insists on making sure that I haven't been in contact with anyone else, questioning me in detail on the time before he caught up with me. To be honest, I answer the questions like an automaton – because that's how I feel. Numb. Miserable. It feels like I've lost him all over again. Eventually, it's time for the ritual, and we're each given a cup of that pungent liquid, and a woman, this one much older than Meena, starts to chant. To be honest, I couldn't give you any more detail because my mind feels divorced from my physical situation.

When I feel the lethargy – it's not like before, it's like I'm feeling it from a distance - I try to pull myself back together. If I can't change anything here, then I need to go back – to the life I have in my own time. I just want to get away from here, from knowing that he's dead again, and that I could do nothing to prevent it. I know sleep is coming, but I hardly know whether to welcome it or not. But then, the darkness comes, and that's welcome.

And then I hear a voice. I open my eyes, and Meena's standing over me, shaking me.

"Buffy, Buffy, wake up."

There's panic in her voice, and I try to sit up and reassure her.

"Meena, I'm fine. Really."

I hear someone stirring behind me, and turn to spot Giles getting up from the other bed.

"Oh, Buffy, Mr. Giles, I thought something had gone wrong. I heard something at the door, then nothing until a few moments ago when I saw the two of you unconscious. I thought,… I thought I'd killed you."

"No, we're fine. Or at least, I am," I try to reassure her. "How about you, Giles?"

"Quite alright, I think. Although, we're going to have to talk about this, you know that, don't you, Meena?"

"Yes, Mr. Giles." Her head droops at the words.

"It'll be ok, Meena," I promise her. "His bark's much worse than his bite."

She looks at me, as if surprised at the comment.

"Buffy, if you don't mind, I'd rather that you didn't undermine my authority. Just because you yourself were unaware of the importance of …"

"Giles?"

"What?"

"Meena will continue to train to be a Watcher, right?"

"What? Oh, yes, I suppose so."

"Ok, good. And she doesn't have to tell you anything about what happened here tonight?"

"Well, insofar as I already understand that, I suppose not."

"Good. Good enough for you, Meena?"

She looks relieved. "I'll explain later, ok?" I promise. She just nods.

Meena packs up her things, while I call to the desk to ask them to get her a cab. When she's gone, Giles gets ready to leave too.

"You took some serious chances tonight," he reminds me.

"I did what I thought was right, like always," I tell him.

"Yes. And sometimes I don't agree with your choices. But, overall, I suppose you've been right more often than you've been wrong. And, it seems that you got away with it this time too. Everything seems to be unchanged."

It's a major admission from him, and I hug him as he stands at the door.

When he's gone, I flick on the TV, wondering if there's anything worth watching on the box. I can't settle to watch anything, but I decide to check my voice mail in case there's any news from home.

I dial the number and hear that there's one new message. I hit the number to listen to it, and hear Willow's voice.

"Buffy, it's Willow. I'm sorry, but that thing you had me looking at? It's bad news. I'll call you later and we can talk."

So, that's it. Spike's gone, and he's not coming back. I feel like I'm sinking into a dark morass and yet I can't cry. The feeling of loss that's been a part of me since Sunnydale is fresh and sharp again. I need to do something – anything – to take my mind off my sorrow. I jump up, wondering if the hotel pool will still be open. The idea of a workout seems like a good one. Or even better, I'll just hit the streets and see if I can find something to slay. Yes. What better way to mark Spike's passing than some good, old-fashioned violence. I walk to where my purse is lying on the table, and I go to pick it up, intending to take out my wallet and put it in my pocket. My eyes are drawn to my return ticket and on impulse, I take it out and read it. Maybe the finality of going back to Rome will help in some way. I read the words, then read them again. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and look again. Los Angeles. It's a return ticket to Los Angeles, not Rome. I sit on a chair, my heart hammering in my chest. When the phone rings, I almost jump out of my skin. I scramble for the receiver, almost dropping it as I do, and put it to my ear.

"Hello, Pet. Took you a while to answer. You ok? Didn't wake you, did I?"

"Spike?" I answer.