Lost Memories

Back from the dead, well now, wasn’t this familiar. Couldn’t a bloke die and stay dead? Apparently not, and every time he came back, he was just a little more fucked up. Now, not only did he not have a pulse, he was incorporeal. Bollocks! But wasn’t this just about right? Die a hero only to have it ruined by not really being gone. What’s worse is that he had to come back to this godforsaken place.

It would be his luck that he’d find himself here, with Angelus and on top of that he was a damn spook. Bloody hell, what did he do to deserve this? He wasn’t certain even all the years of torture, bloodshed, and mayhem would have been bad enough to warrant this.

The only thing he couldn’t complain about was Fred. She was amazing, another time, another place, and he could easily fall for her. Really that was no surprise, half of the reason she appealed to him was for the noticeable similarities between her and a certain green-eyed witch.

Willow had been his last thought before the darkness had claimed him, and she’d been his first thought upon finding himself in the ponce’s office. But that could have been because, though apparently several months had passed in this world, to him he died in one instant and was resurrected in the next. Almost no time had passed between dying and living again. He’d basically faded from there to here.

He still had no idea why it had happened, or why he was here. He was pissed off that he wasn’t allowed his graceful bow out of this world. He was mad that he’d decided - of his own volition- to give up his existence to save the bloody world and the PTB were still jerking him around. However, as angry as he was, there was a small part of him that was overjoyed.

He’d tried to leave, to go see her. Course, the pouf thought he was trying to go to Buffy, but let him think whatever he wanted, wasn’t any of his business anyway. But as was normal with him, his plan didn’t quite pan out. He was stuck here, at least until his beautiful little scientist wrapped her cute brain around his “problem” and figured out how to make him a real boy again. Then he’d go to her, kiss her bloody senseless and shag her till she couldn’t walk.

He was tired of this, tired of always being the one cast away. If he wanted things to change, he had to take charge. He was damned well going to do just that. But first, he’d better figure out how to make contact with solid objects without falling through them, just in case Fred didn’t figure out how to “fix” him. Couldn’t very well kiss the girl if you kept passing through her, now could you?

He thought he’d never have another chance with Red. He’d thought that day in the hell mouth was the end. But he was back, and he was going to have her. None of that obsessive, stalker, rapist shit, he was going to have her because she wanted him, and she would when he was through with her. He’d never felt like this about anyone else, so there was just no other option. She’d said their relationship was like a fairytale, and didn’t all fairytales have a happy ending? Sure they did, the wicked witch burned in the oven, the ugly duckling turned into a beautiful swan, the glass slipper fit the fair maiden, and the Big Bad would get his Red. It was the only ending he’d allow.