Epilogue

They didn’t travel far, only as far as Los Angeles. Buffy couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t like she wanted to be in the same city as Angel. Far from it, in fact. Right now, she was too raw. To see him and know that he could have been the one and not Spike. It was too much for her broken heart to deal with.

They shacked up at Angel’s old haunt, The Hyperion, however. Apparently, Angel and crew had moved on to bigger and better things, but he still owned the hotel. His crew were now heading up the evil law firm Wolfram & Hart. Whatever. She didn’t see them, didn’t really see any of them, for that matter.  

For the entire summer, Buffy spent her days locked away in her room. The nights she spent out on patrol, making sure she wouldn’t cross paths with Angel. She didn’t want to see anyone. Her hurt was too new, too raw. Her pain too great to share with anyone else. On some level she was aware of Willow’s upset; she too had lost someone she loved. Xander as well.

But, right now she just couldn’t bear to hear their concern. They had never cared for Spike, and the “I’m sorry” that would flow from her friends’ lips would leave a bitter taste in her mouth.

So, she stayed secluded.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy came awake with a start, unsure exactly what it was that woke her. Her eyes darted about the room, trying to make out anything that might be out of place or lurking in the shadows.

Sensing nothing, she fell back on the pillows. Determined to fall back asleep, but knowing she was going to be awake for awhile, Buffy lay there in bed and thought about him.

Spike.

She prayed that his last good deed had enabled him to see heaven. She hated to think of him spending eternity in hell.

She was filled with a sudden sense of unease and she jerked upright in bed once more.

“Who’s there?” she called out to the silent, darkened room. “I know someone’s there… Show yourself.”

Frustrated at a lack of response, she threw the covers off her and got out of bed. Standing in her tank top and short pajamas, she made her way around the room, looking for whatever it was that had her Slayer senses going haywire.

Her quick circuit of the space yielded nothing, and it was with frustration that she fell back across her bed.

Now she’d never get back to sleep.

She lay there for nearly ten minutes before she felt it again.

“Dammit!” she cried sitting up. “Show yourself already. I’m tired and I want to go back to sleep.”

Something pulled her gaze towards her closed door. She watched intently as a white, clear mist suddenly appeared before the door. Slowly, it began to take shape. As she began to make out sharp cheekbones and a wide, full bottom lip, Buffy hurled herself out of bed to stand before the image.

“Spike?” she asked, reaching a hand out hesitantly. Then, the mist settled and he stood before her. Her Spike. That cocky grin was on his face and Buffy couldn’t help the tears that spilled over onto unnaturally pale cheeks. 

He saw them, frowned, and reached out his hand as if to halt their path, brush them aside.

Buffy closed her eyes and waited for his touch.

It never came.

Her eyes flew open, praying that it hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. He was still there, frowning intently at her. He was looking at his hands as if they were a puzzle he was trying to solve. Then he shook himself off and looked at her.

Her breath caught at the feeling radiating from his eyes. 

He raised his hand again and let it trail just above her face, like he was reacquainting himself with her features.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

“Oh… Spike! I love you too! I’ve missed you so much…” Her voice trailed off, suddenly overcome by emotion once more. She smiled at him through her tears, attempting to let him know that even though she was crying, it was with happiness not sorrow.

She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hold him tight—

Buffy’s eyes flew wide, Spike’s name frozen on her lips. Vaguely, she took in the sunlight creeping around the shades of her window. Judging from the brightness of her room, it had to be late afternoon.

Suddenly antsy, Buffy pulled off her pajamas and got dressed. She couldn’t explain the sudden desire, this need she had to be somewhere. 

She flew down the stairs and bolted for the front door, not even bothering to tell the others that she was going out. No one was in the front entry, which saved her from having to explain anyway. Her feet ate up the sidewalk, with no clear destination in mind.  She closed her mind off to everything, concentrating on where it was she needed to be. People, cars, noises, they all fell away as she walked.

It was with no small amount of surprise that Buffy found herself in front of the law offices of Wolfram & Hart some time later. She came out of her stupor to realize that night had fallen. And from the looks of it, several hours ago. Not questioning her judgment, she pushed open the glass doors and walked inside. 

A security guard attempted to stop her, but Buffy barely spared him a glance. She was on a mission and nothing, or no one, was going to get in her way. She was distantly aware of the phone behind the information desk ringing, the security guard moving to answer it. A few nods, and he was replacing the phone in its receiver.

“Excuse me, miss? Uh... Buffy?”

The sound of her name brought her head around from where she’d been facing the elevator doors. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him.

“If you’ll… uh… come with me.” He pointed to a private elevator on the other side of the lobby. “There’s… uh… a private elevator that will take you up-upstairs.” There was something about the look in her eye that had him stuttering profusely.

Her look of irritation fell away, and she gifted him with a slight smile. He tentatively returned it with one of his own. He’d seen many strange things since he had started working security for the law office over a year ago and did not want to get on her bad side. She may look normal, but one never knew in this place. He pulled his key out of his pocket and inserted it in the lock of the private elevator. The doors opened on a silent “whoosh” allowing Buffy to step inside. A flick of his wrist and the key came loose.

“Just push the top floor, miss.” Then he turned and walked back to the reception desk.

Buffy did like he asked, and a minute later the doors opened to reveal the astonished gaze of Angel, and the curious looks of several of his coworkers.

“Buffy!”

“Angel?” She looked around curiously. “Not bad…”

“Uh… thanks. What brings you here?”

“I don’t know… just a feeling.”

“Well… lemme give you the nickel tour. These are my associates. Fred and Gunn. Wesley, you know.”

They all said “hi.”

“Hi,” Buffy replied.

“Buffy’s the Slayer… well, one of them anyway. Seems like we’ve had a sudden influx of them.”

“Yeah…” Buffy responded, unsure what to say. She still had no idea what she was doing there and was starting to get uncomfortable in Angel’s presence.

“About that tour…” Angel gestured for Buffy to precede him, guiding her towards the staircase. An hour later, the tour complete, Angel led her back to his office. He indicated the couch for her to sit.

Walking around behind his desk, he sat down. Nervous, he reached for the stack of mail on his desk. The rest of his team drifted in, breaking the awkward silence. They usually showed up at the end of the day to relate to one another the latest news.

Today had been a doozy. Some asshole client of the firm’s had put a bomb on his son and promised to detonate it if Angel didn’t get him off from the charges he was facing. He’d had to fight his own security team to save the boy from harm.

Buffy listened disinterestedly as they talked around her. She was just getting up to leave when she heard Angel comment.

“…deal with whatever comes next.”

Angel held the envelope in his hand, and opened it quickly with a letter opener.  A necklace with some sort of charm slipped out and fell to the ground. Angel bent down to pick it up. Something was vaguely familiar about it. But, he stopped, backing away as it began to glow. 

Buffy had just reached Angel’s door when she stopped. She couldn’t see what was going on, the others having stood up and were now clustered around the vampire’s desk. But something held her back. Prevented her from leaving.

Over the shoulders of the others, she could see a swirling mist. It darkened and started to take shape. Dust became flesh, then he was there.

Spike.

Her Spike.

A smile lit up her face as she watched him bare his fangs at the people around him before recognizing Angel. Then he stopped. His ridges evened out, yellow eyes faded to blue and he turned.

Buffy.

Standing there. In the office. 

He went to push his way through the people crowding around him, but ended up walking right through them.

“What the bloody hell?” He stopped, looking at his hands. Watched as they passed through the chair as he ran them back and forth across it.

“Spike.” The sound of her voice broke through his confusion. He looked up at her and froze. Her love was there for all to see. Especially him. He walked towards her, ignoring all the other occupants in the room.

If anything, her smile got brighter.

“Hey, luv.”

“Hey there yourself.”

The End

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