Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or BTVS or anything else depicted in this scenario. I am poor and no profit is made. Please don't sue.
Her drink was a watered down, lukewarm sea breeze, half drunk by the time he walked in the door. It was just after midnight, and the room went silent. He surveyed the crowd, his eyes flashing danger before finding the seat next to hers.
It figures that the one night she wanted to nurse her sorrows alone, her usual good-looking, bad-boy type would find her. She tried not to look his way as he hunched beside her on the barstool, signaling the bartender.
"Whiskey," he said, his accent heavy and British, "The whole bloody bottle."
The stale scent of old tobacco, smoke, and leather clung to him, and as the bartender returned with the bottle of Jack Daniels, she caught another scent, faint but a sharp reminder.
Blood.
She could see Prue's body, the broken pieces of wall, the long splinters of wood in the chaos that had been the entry way of their home. She could see the smoldering spot on the floor of Cole's apartment, his ashes, from the first time they'd vanquished him, his ruined apartment from Paige's own foolish attempt, one that had somehow led to his actual destruction, his final destruction. The innocents that had been lost and the demons that had been vanquished melded in her mind. Her breath came in short gasps, and she downed the tepid liquid.
Slamming the glass on the counter top, she called for another. As the bartender refilled her glass, she let her eyes drift to the stranger beside her, surprise burning in the pit of her stomach as his eyes stared into hers.
"Don't look at me like that," she muttered, and turned back to her drink.
It was as warm as the last, burning a trail down her throat as she fought to push the faces from her mind. Again, she slammed the glass on the counter, but as she called out to the bartender, the stranger leaned over, filling her glass with straight whiskey.
"Try this, Luv," he said, "It keeps them away longer."
"Keeps who away?" she asked, raising the glass to her lips.
He lowered his gaze to the floor.
"Doesn't matter," he muttered.
It tasted vile, but with the first sip, Cole's face faded from her mind, leaving an almost pleasant emptiness. The second sip chased away the image of Prue's still body, and with the third, her memories seemed a stranger's. For the first time, she let herself look at the man beside her, and when he looked back, she held his gaze.
"Thanks," she said.
"You're welcome," he smiled, though his eyes were dark and sad.
"I'm Phoebe," she said.
He was pale, his hair bleach blond, almost white, and a thin scar trailed down the center of his right eyebrow. His cheekbones were high and his face...he was gorgeous. He wore a long, leather coat, black, with black jeans and a black tee-shirt and even black shoes.
"Name's Spike," he said, and he took another long drink.
"Well, Spike," she said, "What brings you here tonight?"
He shook his head, soft laughter escaping his lips.
"Probably the same thing that brought you," he said, "Love or something like it."
"True enough," she said.
His arm brushed against hers for just a second, and a flash filled her mind, unfamiliar images flooding her vision.
The stranger fought, swarmed by hordes of demons. Their faces were ridged and distorted, and they wore strange armor, carried battered weapons. Beside the stranger, two men and one woman, another demon, faced down the coming wave. The woman fought, destroying everything in her path while one of the men fell, hand still clutching the wound at his side. And the last man, his face changed, deep ridges rising on his forehead, his eyes yellow. The rain poured down as another flash of light sblotted out her vision. A blond woman, smiling as she turned away, jumping into a portal of light, crackling in the night sky. Her body, broken on the rubble below. Death.
The premonition ended, and she felt herself rushing back to reality. It was too late for any of that, she realized. It had already happened, had brought the stranger to this rat hole of a bar. She took a breath, and he was staring again, his eyes curious.
"What did you see?" he asked.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"How do you---?"
His smile stopped her midsentence.
"I've known my share of seers, Luv," he said, "You had the look."
"I saw you," she said, "I saw the past, and I saw her."
He didn't ask which her.
"Don't feel bad. She came back," he said, "Though not to me."
"Mine did," she said, "He came back for me, and he came back wrong. But he loved me."
"How could he not?" he asked, "When I was a monster, she made me feel like a man. She looked at me like I was real, and I risked everything for her. I found my soul for her, but in then end, it wasn't enough."
"Sometimes it isn't. We can't always forget the past and move on. The end is never really the end," she said, "there's always another battle, another demon, sometimes the same one rising from the dead ."
He refilled her glass again.
"To the end," he said, raising his bottle.
"May it finally come," she said, and she downed the glass, her head swimming.
For what felt like forever, they sat, side by side.
A/N: Set after Not Fade Away(Angel s5) and after Centenniel Charmed (Charmed s5). Also my first attempt at Charmed fanfiction.