Story Points/Spoilers
The story takes place in the near future, possibly at the end of Season
Seven, in the aftermath of a major battle. The Council of Watchers
has not been re-established.
-----
The hardest thing in
this world is to live in it. Bugger that.
The rain had started after the sun set. A slow drizzle. He leaned
against a
tree, looking out over the graveyard, listening to the rustle of fine
rain
on leaves. It had been sunny at the funeral, or he would have
gone.
Or maybe not. Friends and family had gathered together to bid
farewell
to
someone they had loved, someone who had held a place in their lives.
How
would he have fit in? Awkward moments with people who had never
accepted
him. Why bother pretending? What had gone on between Buffy
and him,
what
they had shared, had died with her. Or maybe it was gone before
that.
Was
she denying what she felt for him or was he lying to himself, thinking
that
he and she could share more than...?
The issue was moot now. All those times he had looked in her face,
searched
for a sign that she returned his feelings. That wouldn't happen
again.
He
had looked in her face that one last time and had known she was dying.
A
vampire knows these things, even if he's lying to himself. He had
seen
too
much death not to recognize the fading heartbeat, the slowed breathing,
the
signs that one more soul was soon to leave this world.
"Hold on, you're going to make it. Just hold on." He hadn't
fooled
her.
She knew about death too. She'd seen it firsthand before.
That was
another
thing they'd shared: they had both died, had both crawled from the
grave.
And now she was dying again. Her friends arrived and shoved him
aside.
Her
real friends. She had spent her last moments with them while he
wandered
off, the smell of her blood in his nose.
She had fought and she had won, and now she was gone to a better place.
She
wouldn't be coming back this time. They would let her rest this
time.
Eternal rest. Rest in peace. Ashes to ashes...
She had left him here. Left her friends also, but they had each
other.
They'd pull each other through. But him? He had nothing,
nothing that
he
cared about. Nothing. Nothing but emptiness.
The emptiness inside him had always been there. He knew that now.
He
hadn't really noticed it until she'd come along. While she lived,
it
was
bearable. Even when he had lost hope that she would ever fill that
void, it
was bearable. Or maybe he hadn't really lost hope, not deep down.
Love is
a funny thing, even hopeless love.
He was fidgeting. He needed a drink. He needed a smoke.
No, he
needed ...
He'd promised himself that he wouldn't drink or smoke until... He
sighed.
He hadn't quit the booze and the cigarettes because of some promise to
himself, but because they didn't help. Smoking didn't calm him
down,
drinking didn't take away the pain.
He was numb, empty. Anger, grief? He knew at some level that he
was
feeling
them, but they didn't touch him. Nothing mattered.
It was time. How long had he waited there? Hours, moments?
Did it
matter?
Yes. He had to leave himself enough driving time to get out of
Sunnydale,
to get far away before sunrise.
Ah, sunrise. A vampire's worst fear. He snorted. He
didn't care
about the
sunrise, but he didn't want to die here. He didn't want to give
the
Scoobies the satisfaction. He had just that much dignity.
It was time to pay his respects to the fallen. He hadn't brought
flowers.
Leave nothing behind, not one sign that he had ever been there.
Just
vanish. Not a trace. He marched resolutely to the gravesite.
The
smell of
the earth from the fresh grave mixed with the smell of wet grass and
damp
leather. He would remember this moment. He would remember it
until he
died. This was the last moment he would grieve for the Slayer.
Right. That's it then. He nodded to himself. Goodbye,
Buffy. I
loved
you. I lost you. Wherever you are, take care of yourself.
Right. He
turned to leave and stopped short. There was another man there.
"Yes or no, Spike? Yes or no?" No, not another man.
And he had a
stake in
his hand.
"I've got nothing to say to you, Angelus." Bloody hell, I'm not
thinking
straight, he thought. Of course he would come here tonight.
Well,
isn't
this just ducky? Of all the people Spike didn't want to see right
now...
Spike had many reasons to hate Angel, but two stood out in his mind at
this
time. Jealousy over Buffy was one. Buffy had loved Angel,
really
loved
him. And Spike? He was a secret shame, a dirty little secret
and
after he
had come back from Africa, a charity case.
The second reason? Spike hated being pushed around, rejected.
Bloody
Scoobies! He'd fought on their side, right to the end. He
would have
given
anything these past couple of days to join them, even for one minute,
as
they mourned and remembered the Buffy they had lost. But every
time
he'd
get near, they'd go quiet, staring at him, the hated outsider.
Then
Harris
would open his mouth. Bloody hell, he hated the lot of them right
now.
All
he had was a few minutes to stand by her grave, but even that was too
good
for him. No, they had to keep sticking it to him, the Scoobies by
day
and
now Angel after dark. Wanker! Where was Angel when Buffy
needed him?
"The name's Angel, and I asked you a question."
"I haven't taken orders from you for some time. Angel. And
if you
want..." Angel charged.
Angel was older and stronger than he was, but Spike had learned a few
tricks
since the last time they had tangled. They didn't help. He had
expected to
exchange verbal barbs with Goodie Two Shoes and walk away. The
suddenness
of the attack surprised him. Also, he was not healed from
that last
battle, hadn't eaten or slept properly since she died. He soon
found
himself pinned to the ground. He felt the point of the stake
pressed
against his back. Once again, Angel had beaten him.
"You could have killed me anytime before now. You had to do it
here,
in
front of Buffy though, didn't you? You haven't changed that much
at
all.
Angelus."
Angel twisted his arm painfully. "Shut up, Spike."
"Just do what you came here to do."
"Spike, did you turn Buffy?"
"Turn Buffy? What are you talking about?'
Angel's voice lowered to a menacing growl. "Spike, did you turn
Buffy?"
"No. No, I didn't. Who told you...?"
Angel released him, stood up, stepped back a pace. "You were with
her
just
before she died. I was talking to Xander..."
Spike sat up. "Bloody whelp, I should have known. He told
you I ...?"
"He just told me what happened when she died. You were alone with
her.
I
had to be sure." Angel paused. Maybe he felt guilt for
distrusting
Spike,
but if so, it was to a small and very manageable degree. "Well,
don't
tell
me you weren't tempted. "
Spike covered his eyes with his hands. "Not until it was too
late."
Angel's expression softened fractionally.
"So the stake was for her? Now that's a change." Spike stood
up and
picked
grass off his jacket. He knew that Angel would stay a while longer
at
the
grave. With the stake ready. Just to be sure. "Don't
stay up past
your
bedtime." He began to walk away.
"I have something for you too, Spike. I was going to look for you
after,
but since you're here..."
"I don't want anything from you."
"I think you'll be interested."
"Yeah well, you know what? I'm not. I'm in a bit of a hurry
now, so
...
it's been swell." Spike began to walk away.
Angel followed behind, overtaking him at the cemetery gates, blocking
the
exit.
"You're leaving Sunnydale?"
Spike stopped and turned to face Angel. "None of your concern."
"I've made it my concern. Now you can stand there and listen to me
for
five
minutes or I can plant your face in the ground again. And you can
listen to
me for five minutes."
"What do you want?"
Angel began. "There's a job that needs to be done, Spike. A
certain
type
of person is needed for this particular job."
"A job? That's what you're offering? You want me to work for
you?"
"No, not for me. I don't want to work with you. I don't
really want
to see
you again after tonight. I don't care if you accept it or not.
I was
hired
to find you and make the offer."
"Who sent you?" asked Spike, weary and indifferent. Angel would
tell
him
more. Or not. Then he would leave. Five minutes.
"Spike, there are certain powers at work in this world. They
haven't
written you off. Not yet. They want to give you another
chance." He
paused. "Maybe there's more good in you than a lot of people
thought."
Angel was skeptical on this point, and it showed. "But if you
leave
like
this, you're back at square one. You know what it was like before
...
before Sunnydale."
"Before I hooked up with Buffy, you mean."
"Watch what you say. There's nothing stopping me from beating you
senseless."
The look of pain that had briefly flashed across Angel's face was worth
a
few bruises, by Spike's calculations. He shrugged. He could
taunt
Angel
later.
Angel pressed on. "You've done a lot of very evil things, Spike."
He
held
up his hand as Spike was about to speak. "So have I. I
turned away
from
that. But when I stopped killing, it still wasn't enough. It
didn't
change
what I had done. I owed something, some restitution. That's
why I do
what
I do now."
"Much as I'm fascinated by your life's story, maybe you'd better cut to
the
chase." Spike tapped his wrist, where the face of a wristwatch
would
be.
Angel pulled out an index card and handed it to him. Spike looked
at
it.
"That's the new slayer." Angel nodded. "I have to kill the
new
slayer?"
"No! Not kill her. You have to protect her, teach her, train
her..."
"She'll get a watcher for that." Spike started to hand the card
back
to
Angel. "No. Wait a minute." Spike began to chuckle,
then to laugh.
"Watcher. You know, Angel old boy, I never appreciated your sense
of
humour
before tonight."
"It's not a joke, Spike."
"Me? A Watcher? I'm a vampire. Slayers kill me.
And I kill slayers.
I
don't guide them."
"You killed two slayers. And another slayer went to a lot of
trouble
for
you. Now a slayer needs you. It's time to pay the piper."
Spike looked thoughtful, solemn. "Of course, of course. But
there's
only
one thing, you know. I don't want to get busted for watching
without a
license. No thanks. You have anything else to say?"
Angel smiled wryly at him. "No, that's all. I've done my
job. I knew
Buffy was wrong about you."
Spike flinched slightly. "Buffy believed in me."
"She gave you a chance to be a part of something worthwhile, something
worth
fighting for. She thought you'd become a better man. But I
saw
through you
all this time. And I was right. You're just a little boy.
The going
gets
tough, you run off like a crybaby. Like you always did.
Hiding behind
Dru's skirts."
Spike swung at Angel, but the older vampire was ready for the attack
and
easily brushed it aside. Spike was soon on the ground again.
He made
no
effort to rise.
Angel loomed over him. "Spike, I know what you're going through
right
now."
"You don't know ..."
"I do know. I've been there. I spent the better part of a
century
coming
to terms. And I still have a ways to go."
"Me, a watcher? I can't be a watcher."
"It's going to take time for the watcher's council to reestablish, to
recruit and train watchers. Right now there's a slayer who needs
training
and guidance. She'll die if there's no one there for her."
"Why me?"
"You know about vampires, and you know about slayers. And you have
a
British accent."
Spike thought for a moment. "This is going to save me from
damnation,
right?"
"Spike, if you don't train the new slayer, I will. I'll do it for
Buffy.
Once I'm sure she knows what she's doing, she and I'll hunt you down
and
kill you. Does that help you make up your mind?"
Spike stood up. "You don't frighten me, Angel. I'm not going
to do
this
because I'm scared. I'll do it because the new slayer needs
someone
decent
watching out for her. And to prove you wrong. And because
Buffy would
have
wanted me to."
Angel nodded. "If your slayer needs any PI work, send it my way.
I'll
be
going back to L.A. tomorrow night."
"What about the Scoobies? Do they know about this?"
Angel shrugged. "You might need their help." Spike responded
with a
contemptuous snort.
Angel turned and began to walk away, but Spike had one last question.
"So
what do I do? I knock on her door and just introduce myself and
say
'Hi,
I'm your new watcher?'"
Angel stopped and answered. "You figure it out. You're in a
hurry,
and I
still have that stake. Get out of here."
The
End