Summary: Spike returns to Sunnydale after a long absence, very uncertain about what he will find there, or the reception he will get - especially since he himself has changed on a fundamental level.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy are the creators of the Buffy universe and Spike.
Can I have your children?
Spoilers: Everything up to the last ep that was aired (just to be safe) as well as any rumours that are floating about on the internet. *Don't read if you don't want to be spoiled*.
Rating: R, bad language, some violence and sexual innuendo. I'll try not to exceed that...
Note: This is a continuation of my story "Summer Sun" which can be found at http://slytherinvamp.co.uk/clare/summerson.html. Believe me, you need to read that first to understand what's going on here. It won't take you long. Big hugs and gold stars to Annerose, my beta and to everyone who R&Red the first one - this is for you.
 
 

Chapter One

The trouble with living was all the red tape that went with it. When he left the dessert, alive, Spike's first thought had been to get back to Sunnydale. The journey took him three months.

Being formally undead, he had never appreciated the freedom he had from society's restraints. Although as a vampire - a demon which lived in a supernaturally reanimated corpse - he had been ruled by things like bloodlust and darkness, now that his corpse was officially not a dead thing anymore, but a living, breathing vessel, he was bound by things far more whimsical and nefarious.

Customs, for instance. Who'd have thought he would need a bloody passport to get out of the sodding country? He hadn't needed one to get in - Lorne had shipped him there in a box - but now his current necessity to breathe air (of all things) made that option unavailable. He could lark about in the daylight as free as a bird, but they wouldn't let him onto the next flight to California without the proper documents and a bleeding ticket.

Fortunately for Spike, he had made some connections while in the southern African country. One connection, to be specific, but his connection had connections and it was all the same to him. He had formed an uneasy truce with Jake Ntombi after the double-dealing boy actually tried to save his life. Jake hadn't known that the saving wasn't necessary and that the vampire was no longer in danger from the sun, but at the time, neither of them had realised this and they both thought Spike would die.

But Spike wasn't dusted with the sunrise that day - because of a strange gift given to him under even stranger circumstances by The Slayer. The first Slayer - not his Slayer - had called herself by other names, one of them was Mujaji and afterwards Spike found out that she was a legend among the locals and that nobody could quite pinpoint the truth under all the myth that surrounded her. The oldest remains of human ancestors had been discovered in this place so it only made sense that this was where the original Slayer came from.

Somehow, and Spike was still uncertain about how it all happened, he had made his peace with the protector of humanity and she had granted him a wish. If you could wish for anything in the world, what would it be? He knew what he wanted - and she was a petit woman with grey-green eyes and pouty lips and a serious backhand - but somehow he had ended up asking for life instead - that he would live through the sunrise and that the boy who was trying to save him would live, despite the fact that he was dying from 'the white man's disease' - AIDS.

He didn't realise what he was really asking for.

The woman (he really couldn't think of her as The Slayer anymore) had made good on her deal in a way that astounded both the vampire and the boy. She had caused Spike's heart to beat for the first time since he was turned - she had truly made him live. But he was still a demon. He could 'vamp out' with the best of them although the fangs were just an accessory now, rather than survival gear. He didn't need to drink blood - his body now required food and water and oxygen. The irony of it all was not lost on Spike. He had what peaches longed for - technically he was as human as they come and would pass any test they did to prove otherwise - but he still lacked the apparently vitally important soul. For that Spike was eternally grateful. William wouldn't have lasted his first hour in Johannesburg. He might not have the bloodlust, but there was still his predilection for violence and mayhem that he could count on.

William...

It was the name he had on his fake documents. William Anderson (he couldn't remember his original surname); date of birth: 29/08/1973; height: 5'10"; eyes: blue; nationality: British.

He had practised the name in front of the mirror.

"Anderson. William Anderson. My friends call me Spike."

It would do.

Jake had acquired the passport and birth certificate for Spike and a visa for himself, but it had taken a while to get the documents.

"Everything in this country is so bloody slow!" Spike had been more than irked at the delay. "The black market's like a county church bazaar."

Jake had chuckled. "You're on Africa Time now, bro. Everything has it's own season. The channels might be sluggish, but if you know where to heat things up, you can achieve almost anything."

In the interim, Spike had accompanied Jake on his jaunts around the city while he began to learn about his new freedoms and limitations.

The boy had decided to come back with him to the States.

"I need a break, you know. Got to figure things out, find out where I'm headed and stuff," the boy told him. Before he met Spike, the small time township gangster had been told he was HIV positive, had got it from his now dead girlfriend. Since then he'd given up caring about life. Oh, he was scared as hell of dying - which was why he had even resorted to witchcraft to find a cure and a had been caught up in Spike's crazy quest to get rid of the chip in his head.

Nothing ever turns out the way you expect. Because of Spike's wish, Jake had been cured, or at least they suspected he was - he felt better than he had in ages - but the boy was reluctant to let the doctors confirm the miracle. Still, they both believed that Mujaji, the woman from Spike's vision quest had cured him. Jake was suddenly confronted with the fact that he might live, after all and the thought scared him as much as death had.

As for Spike - he still had the chip. But it was designed to work on dead, reanimated flesh, not living human tissue. He had achieved his goal - but at an unexpected price.

Life was going to prove hard for both of them.

***

After Jake's touching goodbyes to his family - his mother had literally wailed at the airport terminal while his sister, Lindiwe, had clung to Spike with arms of steel - they had boarded the SAA flight 209 from Johannesburg to Los Angeles, including a stopover in Atlanta. It would take them approximately twenty-eight hours to reach their destination as well as all the free alcohol they could consume in that time.

By the time they'd left Jake's weeping family and gone through customs - where all fake documents withstood casual scrutiny - they were both twitching with apprehension and excitement.

This was Jake's first trip on an aircraft and his first time away from his home country. Johannesburg had been his world for all his life, but now it was time to expand horizons and broaden views. He had been comfortable with his way of life in what was one of the most dangerous cities in the world. LA and California would be a Sunday afternoon drive in comparison - at least that's what Jake's macho side told him - but this was new territory and he had no idea what to expect. It was a little bit nerve-wracking.

Travelling was old hat to Spike, though. This would be his first time in the actual passenger cabin of an aircraft, however, but he wasn't thinking about the journey at all. He had developed an annoying headache, a tightly wound knot in his stomach and the urge to retch whenever he saw any food - and all this before they climbed aboard the plane. One of the evil things about having to deal with a living body was the fact that it would react to the slightest emotion and Spike knew all too well that he was nervous as hell. He was on his way back home - and he truly did consider the wretched place home - and he had never been so unsure of himself. William the Bloody, the world's only living vampire, was nauseous at the thought of seeing his slayer again.

He wondered how many of those miniature bottles it would take to get him pissed and forget about the upcoming reunion.

TBC...