To Recover Something You Hadn't known You'd Lost

To Recover Something You Hadn’t known You’d Lost

WARNING: Spoilers from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 8 comic book that continues from where the television series finale leaves off. Also a little from season 5 of the television series Angel.

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It had been so long since he’d seen her. His Slayer, his beautiful Slayer. God, he missed her. More than anything in all the centuries he’d lived he wanted to see her again. He wanted to be able to hold her, to love her, and have her simply accept it.

But he couldn’t. She thought he was dead and she’d moved on. She’d met someone and she was happy. She didn’t miss him and she didn’t need him.

At least those were the things he’d been telling himself every time she crossed his mind. Which was often. Always.

He’d contemplated just bursting back into her life on a whim, giving them all a good shock. Then begging her to let him stay, just to stand by her side even if she’d never truly allow him to be a part of her. Because that was what he wanted. In the time he’d spent apart from her he’d realized he’d been right in telling Riley it was better to be with her than without her, despite the circumstances. But every time he’d dreamed it, wished it, each time he’d come to the same conclusion. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t shanghai his way back into her life and destroy what was her now seemingly perfect life. He just wouldn’t do it.

Not until today.

Today, something had shattered inside him. Today he’d convinced himself he’d only go to look at her. Only to prove to himself that she was truly happy. And then he’d just go. After he knew for sure she was happy he’d simply slink off back into the darkness, and it’d be as if he never came at all. She wouldn’t even know he’d ever been there. He’d just go back to being the shell of a creature he’d been since the very day they’d pulled him back into existence with that sodding trinket.

And so he set out to find her.

But when he arrived in Rome, when he looked into the face of the woman he so desperately needed, it wasn’t her.

It wasn’t his slayer. It was a slayer, but not his slayer.

Her hair and body type were very similar but her eyes and facial structure was all wrong.
She was an imposter.

Instantly he was furious. Who was this bloody bint? Who had given her the right to waltz in wearing her name as if it belonged to her? His first and foremost impulsive reaction was the desire to beat it out of her. Lucky for her, he didn’t have to. The girl wearing his Slayer’s name spewed what he needed to know with little to no encouragement. Ruddy push over is what she was. Not even worthy to play the part of imposter.
But the push over had given him some valuable information.

Buffy was in Scotland. Of all the bloody God forsaken places, she had to choose Scotland. He’d been there a few times in his youth while traveling with Angelus, Dru, and Darla and it was filled with unsavory memories and past grievances.

Fortunately none of that changed his initial plan. He still needed to see her and he still needed to know she was safe and happy.

And so with a heavy heart and the silent prayer that she wouldn’t see or sense his presence, he left for Scotland.

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Buffy lay in her bed toying with a gaudy looking skull shaped ring that was far too large for any one of her small fingers. Yet still she continued to slip it on and off her index finger as if she expected it to start magically fitting even though it hadn’t the last six-hundred times she’d tried.

Sighing with an ache that still pained her even after a year, she resigned to slipping the ring back onto it’s sliver chain and around her neck where it had been hanging faithfully since the day she’d found it kicking around her things. It was a constant reminder of what he’d done for her, what he’d done for humanity. And she wondered if it had been painful. Had he cried out her name when the flames engulfed him? Was he now doomed to burn in those flames forever, or had dying to save the world cleansed his soul?

She didn’t know. And not knowing was eating away at her. Knowing his sacrifice had been so great while she’d done little more than flee, sickened her. And worse, far worse, he hadn’t believed her when she’s spoken her heart, her soul. And when he denied it, she hadn’t had the guts to tell him otherwise.

And now, due to her cowardice he’d never know. The man who had loved her above all else, would’ve died for her, killed for her simply because she asked him to despite the havoc it would’ve reaped on his newly recovered soul. He’d have done all that simply because he loved her, he believed she was the one. He was the most passionate person she’d ever known. He deserved better than the scraps she’d given him, so much better.
And when she’d finally been willing to give him her best, he hadn’t believed her.

She only wanted him to know. More than anything she wanted him to know that she’d loved him back. That she was sorry for being such a bitch and truly did love him. Even if he couldn’t come back, couldn’t be with her, she still wanted him to know. She prayed that from wherever he was now, he knew it.

Despite all this, she still found it all a little difficult to swallow. Yes, she’d come to terms with the fact that she loved him. And if he were here, and asked her to shout it from the rooftops, she would. But it was still strange.

Spike. She was in love with Spike.

And oh no, not just the good old chip and soul-boy Spike, we’re talking the Big Bad. Even way back then she’d had a thing for him. And somehow, when she wasn’t looking, it’d gone a morphed into something deeper. At the time she hadn’t understood it, and it had only made her furious. A fury which she often took out on him. She was sorry for that too.

The knowledge of all of this was heavy but she swore to herself that if she could change it all and make him believe, she would. Even if it crushed her pride and stole her breath, she’d tell him if she could… Too bad she couldn’t. Too little, too late she thought.

Silent tears she hadn’t noticed were falling streaked her reddened cheeks as she tucked the ring and chain back under the collar of her t-shirt. Refusing to allow herself to dwell on all the ‘what if’s’ and ‘if only’s’ any longer, she swiped at her tears with the back of her hands and tossed her hair into a messy little bun on the top of her head.
It was yet again time to put on a happy face and confront her steadily crumbling world.

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Apparently the council had a safe house up in Scotland and at the insistence of Giles, they had allowed Buffy to stay there for a week. Personally Spike knew Buffy wanted nothing to do with the council. She was convinced they were nothing but a bunch of stuffy, old, pencil pushers with nothing but greed and tradition on the brain. Honestly he couldn’t say he disagreed. But according to the cowering little piss-ant they’d had manning the front gates of the new Scoobie HQ, Giles had insisted that she use the house to go ‘clear her head’ and somehow managed to convince her.

Also there was supposedly small pack of vamps squatting in a cave just north of the local town. Turns out they’ve been picking off hitch hikers and cattle and such. She’d be wanting to get right on that. Probably what convinced her to go up in the first place.

These were the thoughts he was trying to distract himself with as he sat in his car, parked within seeing distance of the big old cabin she was staying in.
It didn’t take him long to become distracted and begin wondering how he was going to tell her he wasn’t dead after all. That he wanted – Wait! Hold on a tic! That was not the plan. For Christ sakes, she wasn’t even supposed to know he was there, let alone have him wander on over and reintroduce himself. But then he saw her form pass by the living room window and he could swear his dead heart skipped in his chest.

So, even as he was cursing himself aloud, berating himself for being such a git, he was heading for the front porch. He managed to pound his fist against the door twice before his eyes widened and the realization of what he’d just done hit him. The desire to flee was prominent and overwhelming. It was looking like a pretty damned good idea at the moment. But just as he was preparing to do just that, the door shot open.
And there she stood, in all her glory. His Slayer.

He watched with a curious sort of fascination as multiple emotions flew through her eyes and across her face.

First came the expected shock and disbelief, quickly followed by confusion and what looked suspiciously like relief. And for a brief moment he thought she looked as if she might have reached out to hold him, to let herself be held. And in that brief moment he couldn’t help but wish she’d do just that.

Then her fist collided squarely with his nose.

He let loose a yelp of surprise followed by a long string of profanities. “Bloody hell woman! Is that how you greet the bloke who single handedly saved the human race?!”
There was a white hot fury burning in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in far too long. Too bad that fury was directed solely at him. She advanced toward him and he in turn backed away clutching his now bloodied nose. “Oi! That’s enough now Slayer. You’ve had your blood,” He swiped at his nose then stretched out his bloodied hand as if to prove to her he was really wounded. “time for some hugs n’ a peaceful reunion now innit?”

“Bastard!” She spat as she shoved him back and he toppled backward down the steps to land flat on his ass at the bottom. She was on him in seconds.
“Bollocks…” Was all he managed to get out before she clocked him twice between the eyes.

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AN: I think I really like this one. It's not all that long but I do have a little more of it written up as the second chap, it's just not done yet and so thought this would be as good a place as any to end the first chap. This way I'll have a bit of a start on the second chap. Anyways I Know it's pretty simliar to my other Spuffy fic but I like the feel of this one better I think. So yeah, that's about it, hope you enjoyed it and please review.