What Was Lost

What Was Lost

Chapter 11

Xander waited until the day he was scheduled to fly out before sneaking into Buffy’s room and swiping Spike’s things. He didn’t take the duffle, just the contents inside, yanking a few things out of one of Buffy’s drawers to make the bag look full.

He hated deceiving Buffy like he was, but at the same time, he was trying to prove to Spike his good intentions. A rock and a hard place to be sure, but then, that was often the story of his life.

At the airport, he bade goodbye to a tearful Willow and Dawn, and a somber, withdrawn Buffy. Amid hugs and kisses, he promised to call more often, then turned and swiftly walked away towards the security checkpoint, desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and Buffy.

Before he did something stupid.

Like cave and tell her he knew where Spike was.

There was only so much misery he could stand to see his friends in, and Buffy, with her dead eyes and broken spirit was much more than he could handle. The only thing that made him get on the plane without confessing was that he swore to himself he was going to work on Spike and get him to change his mind.

If two people were meant to be together, it was Spike and Buffy.

He saw that now.

~*~*~*~*~

In the days following Angel’s departure, Spike was on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But each day was more of the same, work and sleep, with an odd game of poker thrown in for fun.

He stopped expecting the Slayer to show up and confess her undying love, begging his forgiveness for the agony she’d put him through, Angel in the background nodding his approval. It was a fool’s paradise, a pipe dream…

Something he was never meant to have.

And he refused to allow himself to want it.

Better to shun what he couldn’t ever hope of having, rather than deal with disappointment when it never came to pass.

Spike heard footsteps coming down the hallway and frowned before remembering that Harris had been returning today. He sniffed the air, and smiled at recognizing the boy’s scent.

“Door’s open, Harris,” Spike called out, just before Xander could knock.

“Okay, that’s just creepy,” Xander said as he opened the door and peeked his head into the room. “I brought you something.” He walked into the room and held out a paper bag. “Sorry I didn’t bring your bag, but I figured you wanted what’s inside, more than the actual bag.”

“Ta, mate. Just set it on the dresser, yeah? Have a good trip?”

Xander’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline at the question and he floundered a bit before saying somewhat evenly, “Yeah. It was alright.”

Silence descended upon the room until they both spoke at once.

“Well, I should probably get going…” Xander thumbed over his shoulder in that direction.

“Harris? Uh, that is, thanks for the presents…” Spike gestured towards the cigarettes and Jack Daniels on the dresser. Responded to Xander’s statement before the conversation became even more awkward, “I’ll see ya at work later then.”

“Yeah. Okay. Oh, and you’re welcome… for the gifts.” Xander smiled and left.

~*~*~*~*~

Angel spent a week buried in work, availing himself of the bedroom suite – one of the perks of being the CEO – for a few hours’ sleep each day. In between working cases, he spent the time trying to solve Spike’s problem.

Unfortunately, he was no closer to a solution.

Wolfram and Hart resources were useless, much to his disappointment, because what good was being the CEO of an evil law firm if he couldn’t find some way for Spike to regain his soul? And there’d been no divine intervention at the start of the New Year. A fleeting hope at best, but one he’d had nonetheless.

It pained him to admit it, but he was going to have to seek help from another quarter.

He just hated having to involve Giles, especially given the man’s enmity towards Spike.

Sighing, Angel informed Harmony he was leaving for the day, and took his private elevator to the garage. He spent the time driving back to the hotel going over how he was going to ask Giles for assistance.

When he walked through the front doors of the Hyperion, he could only stare in shock at the bedlam going on before him. Buffy was alternately crying and raging at everyone around her as she turned over cushions and then the couch, searching for something. Willow was just as frantic in her search, while alternately consoling her friend.

“What’s going on?” Angel called out over the noise, but no one paid him any mind.

At least until Buffy got wind of his presence; he could practically see the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end just before she turned in his direction. And if he lived another day, he could cheerfully do it without having seen murder in her eyes, directed at him, ever again.

“You!” She flew at him, materializing a stake from somewhere on her person, and she seemed hell bent on using it. “Give it back! You had no right to take it!”

“Buffy? What?” Angel easily caught the stake aimed at his heart and yanked it out of her grasp. “I didn’t take anything. Hell, I haven’t even been here this past week.”

The fight seemed to go out of her at his words, and he felt her sag against his chest, the fight going out of her. Angel gathered her close and lifted his head to the others in the room for an explanation.

“Spike’s things are gone,” Willow informed him.

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