Author's Note: Hmm...I didn't get as many reviews this last time. I'm hoping it's because ff.net was being screwy again or that people've already reviewed, and it's not a sign that the last chapter wasn't as good... This one is the antepenultimate chapter, folks, i.e. the third to the last. (Yes, you too can learn to use little-known Greek morphological terms like 'antepenult', 'optative', 'dual', and 'middle voice' in every sentence! Confuse your parents; bore your readers; tell lame jokes that only your Classics professors will think are funny! To order your own copy of 'Dull Classical Terms' send $19.95 plus $5.95 shipping and handling to 'I Fall For Every Lame Informercial I Hear. PO Box 666, Nowhere.' Order now; quantities are limited.) ~_^ To answer a FAQ: yes, I do plan on writing another B/S smut fic when this one is finished. Never fear, I can't live without writing some form of naked Spike at any given time. It's a terrible addiction. I recommend it to everyone. ^_^

Previously: Past Spike's about to get sent back... *sniff*

20. Fond Farewells

"OK then," Tara took a deep breath. "We're going to have to do this very carefully." She turned her attention to past Spike. "I'm going to cast two spells on you, OK?"

"Yeah?" he raised a scarred eyebrow.

She nodded. "First I'm going to do the Tabula Rasa. I'll do the incantation, and then we have to wait a while until the crystal turns black. That's when your memories will vanish. You with me so far?"

He nodded slightly, obviously more than a little nervous at the prospect.

"I'm going to try to time the Tempus Restitue spell so that it coincides exactly with the turning of the crystal," she continued. "That way, you won't have any lingering memories of the time between the two spells. If everything works out right, you should reappear from the exact time and place you were taken from with no memories of this time."

"What about Dru?" past Spike asked curiously. "She was standin' right by me when I got plucked away."

"She shouldn't be able to see that anything happened," Tara said hesitantly. "Maybe just a bright flash or something..."

"Can you handle this all by yourself?" Buffy asked, concerned.

"Anya and I are going to link our energies together for this," Tara explained. "Together, we should be able to pull together enough magic to make this work."

"Which mean that Magicless Me gets to handle all the boring, logistical stuff for the spell," Willow said, obviously somewhat disappointed that she couldn't be included. She held up several papers in front on her. "Take one and gather the supplies on the list, people," she said cheerfully. "It'll be like a scavenger hunt! Only...with no prizes, and you'll all know where everything is 'cause you've all worked in the shop before..."

Dawn flashed her The Teenager Look and took the top sheet, heading back down into the basement to acquire the first item on her list. Buffy snatched another and practically ran for the incense section before her Spike could catch her.

He looked like he was about to go after when Willow pulled him aside. "I need to talk to you," she informed him. "Both of you."

The two Spikes raised identical scarred eyebrows at each other, shrugged simultaneously, and both plopped down in the vacated chairs at the table with perfect synchronicity.

"Woah, spooky," Willow's eyes widened before she shook it off. "Our job," she began in that voice she had used back when she was teaching, "is to make sure that there's nothing glaringly wrong about past Spike when we send him back."

The two vampires exchanged amused glances at her manner.

"How do you mean, Red?" Present Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"Well, if something's really obviously different about him when he goes back, it could trigger a memory and shatter the Tabula Rasa spell," she explained. "Very bad."

"So what do I do?" past Spike inquired.

"I've made a list," Willow said cheerfully, holding up another sheet of paper. "First off: are those the clothes you were wearing when you first came here?"

"Yup," past Spike replied.

"Check." Willow drew a little check mark by item number one on her list. "Two: have you picked up any bruises or other injuries since you've been here?"

"Er..." Past Spike turned to present Spike for help.

"He has," present Spike quickly said, "but 'e'd just gotten out of a fight. Any new bruises could be explained by that."

"Good enough," Willow said to past Spike's vigorous nod. "Three: do you have anything different with you now? Anything at all you might have picked up since coming here..."

Willow and present Spike watched past Spike search his pockets.

"Nope," he finally said.

"Have you lost anything then?" Willow added.

"Nope," he insisted.

"Five: have you eaten here more recently than you had in the past?"

The two Spikes exchanged nervous glances. It wasn't so much when he'd eaten as what he'd eaten.

"We have to consult," present Spike informed her, and the two briefly stepped outside to discuss the matter.

"Extra Slayer's blood," past Spike sighed. "Problem?"

"How much did you get?" present Spike asked.

"Not too much, but enough to make me stronger'n I should be..."

Present Spike looked thoughtful for a minute. "You did just almost defeat a Slayer," he finally commented.

"Yeah," past Spike shrugged.

"You won't fight her in direct hand-to-hand for another couple o' months... We've jus' got to hope you don't notice the sudden change," he finally concluded.

"Smell?" past Spike inquired.

"Normal enough," his future counterpart assured him. "It mixes in pretty well with the general 'I've fed off Slayers' smell."

"We're good then?"

"We're good."

Willow was waiting for them patiently inside.

"We're hopin' it's close enough that he won't notice," present Spike confessed. "There's nothin' more we can do."

"That'll have to be good enough," Willow agreed. "OK, last item, and I'm really proud of this one," she said excitedly. "Do you have the same number of cigarettes now that you did when you came?"

"Oh crap," past Spike pulled out his box of cigarettes, "not even close..."

"You'll have to lend him some," Willow informed present Spike.

The current vampire grumbled a bit and pulled out his own pack. "How many?" he demanded, annoyed.

"Six," past Spike informed him.

Present Spike raised an eyebrow. "I know 've seen you smoke more'n six," he accused, eyes narrowed.

"So I 'borrowed' the pack by the bedside table," past Spike defended himself. "Technically, they were mine anyway since 'm you."

Willow watched on mildly amused as much arguing and cursing ensued, during which they exchanged cigarettes.

"That it?" past Spike finally huffed, satisfied that he had the same amount he'd come in with.

"Not quite," Willow said. "The thing is, there's a bit of problem with the memory spell—"

"Problem?!" both Spikes gulped in unison.

"Not bad problem," Willow hastily amended, "just something we have to do."

They didn't look at all reassured.

"Normally, when you do the spell, you just say the person's name," Willow continued, "but that's kind of a problem since there's two of you..."

"You are not givin' me amnesia again!" present Spike objected.

"We're not planning to," Willow tried to calm him down. "What we need to do is find some object for the spell to focus on instead."

"Object?" past Spike looked at her curiously.

"It has to be something that past Spike has that present Spike doesn't," she clarified, "a way for the spell to distinguish the two of you. And the more personal the item, the better."

This led to an interesting process whereby the two Spikes began comparing everything on their persons, trying to find a significant difference. Willow gathered the items Buffy, Dawn, Tara...and a newly returned Xander and Anya were collecting while the two vampires worked it out.

"Ha!" past Spike finally handed her a bottle of black polish triumphantly.

"That's good," Willow said excitedly.

"Come, help me set up the candles," Tara pulled her away from the two vampires.

"Wow, that's a lot of candles." Buffy watched the two of them set everything up. "Very...black, too."

"It's always about the black candles," Anya complained. "And they all smell terrible, too. I mean, ugh! Opium? Who wants to smell that?"

"I like the smell of opium," Dawn volunteered.

Several pairs of horrified eyes stared in her direction.

She rolled her eyes. "I meant the candles," she sighed in exasperation. "Jeez, people! No, I'm not on drugs."

Everyone began helping to put the circle together, fearful of catching the gaze of the now-annoyed teenager.

"Are we ready then?" Tara finally looked up from where Anya was drawing a chalk pentagram on the floor.

Willow nodded. "Everything's a go."

"You ready?" Buffy asked an increasingly nervous past Spike.

He nodded.

"Let's begin then," Tara extended her hand to him.

He took it and allowed himself to be led into the center of the pentagram.

"Sit," Tara instructed, "and close your eyes."

He looked to Buffy, and she gave him a little nod before he did so.

Willow lit the candles around the circle before Anya and Tara joined hands around Spike and sealed off the circle. An eerie wind passed through the room, causing the candles to flicker and everyone outside the circle to shiver.

Buffy felt her Spike wrap his coat around her shoulders and smiled up at him shyly when his hands lingered on her arms a bit longer than was absolutely necessary. She'd found – much to her surprise – that he didn't seem too big on public displays of affection now that their secret was out. If anything, he touched her less around her friends now. She'd kind of nervously half-expected that he'd be shouting out to the world 'lookee I bedded the Slayer!', and it was nice to see that she had been wrong.

Tara and Anya had just cycled through a low Latin chant several times now. It was clear that Anya was deep in a magical trance, and Buffy could almost see the magical energy channeling into the young Witch.

It was at this point that Tara let go of one of Anya's hands. The former vengeance demon seemed not to even notice. Tara picked up the bottle of nail polish and held it above the flame before her.

"I cast this spell for Spike, the owner of this talisman," she said in a slow, hypnotizing drawl. "May the memories of this alien time be cast from his mind." She slipped the nail polish into one of his pockets and picked up a clear crystal. "When the crystal turns black, the spell will be cast." She waved it over the candle three times before taking up the bundle of herbs Willow had prepared for her and setting it ablaze.

"Tabula Rasa, Tabula Rasa, Tabula Rasa," she intoned.

A magical eddy swirled around them and then dissipated.

"It is done," a still half-entranced Tara informed past Spike. "I'm just waiting for the crystal to turn now..."

He watched intently along with everyone else as the clear stone slowly darkened. One nervous look was spared for Buffy, and she gave him an encouraging little smile, intertwining her fingers with her Spike's.

"Close your eyes again," Tara said when the crystal was reaching its deepest black.

He complied, and Tara gathered the energy once again, fueled by the still-entranced Anya.

"Janus, I beseech you," Tara chanted once again, "restore what has been set awry." She poured a liquid mixture over one of the candles beside her, quenching the flame. "Take that which has come to the end..." The candle on the other side of her got the same treatment "...And return it to the beginning." She caught Anya's free hand with hers, completing the circle around past Spike.

"Tempus Restitue!" she cried aloud, both her and Anya's eyes opening wide in unison and flashing with power.

There was a blinding white light that caused everyone to blink. And when they opened their eyes again, past Spike was gone...

Sunnydale, 1997...

"Good-bye, my Spike. Have a pleasant trip, and come back to mommy soon," Drusilla giggled.

"What are you talking about?" Spike turned to her, a slight frown marring his usually smooth brow.

He blinked suddenly when a white light overcame him for a second and wobbled a bit on his feet.

"I knew you'd come back to me, my Spike," his mate cooed, slipping her arms around his waist and holding his head to her shoulder.

"What jus' happened there, pet?" he asked, confused. "I felt all dizzy..."

"Shh," she put one long, red nail to his lips. "It's nothing for you to worry about," she assured him. "What was will be, but now it is as it was..."

"'ave you been feedin' off pot-heads again?" Spike demanded good-naturedly.

She let out a delighted peel of laughter and slid on hand up under his T-shirt. "Come to bed?" she asked with unusual shyness. "Let me make you mine once again...if only for a little while."

"'m always yours," he purred into her ear. "Always have been, always will be."

"My poor, sweet Spike," she smiled at him fondly, leading him to their bedroom, "if only it were so..."

"It is done."

The magic in the room dissipated at Tara's words, and she let go of Anya's hands. The former vengeance demon blinked blearily a few times before accepting Xander's hand and stepping out of the circle.

"Very cool," Willow gave Tara a little congratulatory hug. "You did a great job controlling that. This is one very impressed Willow."

Tara blushed and smiled, and their hug lingered for a few extra seconds.

"So it worked all right then?" Buffy asked anxiously. "He's back home and safe?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Tara joked lightly, gesturing to the vampire beside Buffy.

She turned to look at him, one hand on hip.

"Kind of a surreal night," he shrugged, "but I still don't remember anythin' about bein' flung into the future."

"It worked out all right then," Dawn said happily, "and now everything can go back to normal, right?" She fixed a pointed glare on her sister.

"I said I'd think about it," Buffy informed her.

Dawn rolled her eyes and muttered about the hopelessness that was Buffy.

"S-Spike?" Tara caught the vampire's attention. "Here." She handed him the blackened crystal. "If you ever want your memories back, just break it," she informed him. "You'll get them back at the time when it's broken, so it works out OK with the temporal spell and everything."

"Thanks, Glinda." He pocketed the crystal.

Everyone seemed not to know what to say for a while.

"We're done now, right?" Anya demanded. "That means everyone should go. I have to be ready to open tomorrow morning. Xander, make everyone go away."

Xander flashed everyone a sheepish smile. "Have to...um...clean up and..." he struggled for less brusque words.

"We'll get out of your way, Xander, don't worry," Buffy smiled a bit at his nervousness. "C'mon," she said, tugging at the sleeve of Spike's duster and pulling him towards the door, "I haven't patrolled in a couple of nights now. The vamps are probably painting the town red...literally."

She frowned at the thought, and Spike held the door open for her as they stepped out.

"I guess we better be getting home, too, hey Dawnie?" Willow headed for the door.

"Bye, guys!" Dawn smiled and waved before heading home.

"You're sure you don't want me to stay and help?" Tara volunteered.

Anya waved her away. "We can take care of it," she assured the Wicca. "Besides, I can't discuss the things I want to discuss with Xander while you're here...or so he tells me."

Xander let out a nervous little laugh.

Tara gave him a knowing smile. "Bye, then," she said, stepping out into the cool night.

"I'll put away the candles," Anya declared. "You clean up the chalk."

Xander took the oft used cleaner and rag and washed up yet another magical circle.

"It's going to hard for them," Anya commented, placing the leftover herbs behind the counter.

"Huh? Who?" Xander finished his work.

"Buffy and Spike," she clarified. "Now that the past Spike's gone, they're going to have to adjust all over again. Buffy will be used to getting twice as many orgasms, and Spike'll have to pick up the slack."

"W-What are you talking about?" Xander exclaimed in horror.

"I'm talking about Buffy having sex with both Spikes at the same time," Anya clarified patiently.

Xander's face reflected pure, unadulterated fear for an instant. And then it vanished with a good-natured grin. "Nah," he said dismissively, "Buffy would never do that." He hummed a bit as he put the rag away. Denial was indeed a lovely place this time of year...