Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot, all Buffyverse belongs to Joss etc.
Summary: Post Chosen, Buffy and the gang fly out to Egypt for a relaxing vacation before figuring out what to do about the new Slayers. But with Buffy stuck in a deep melancholy over Spike's death, the trip doesn't seem to be heading towards the fun. However Buffy soon meets a strange fortune teller who is convinced she can bring Spike back.
Buffy Summers watched her glass of shai tea quiver with the thump of passing footsteps, and wrinkled her nose as the rich scent of a sheesha pipe curled around her nostrils. The incessant chatter in Arabic around her reminded Buffy of just how alone she was. Sure, she wasn't alone, alone. Xander, Willow, Giles, Faith, Dawn and Andrew were all nearby, nearby being defined as in the city walls. Buffy had ventured to Khan Al-Khalili by herself, wanting a break from the constant concerned looks and nonsensical babble about Star Trek and the Justice League.
A single tear slid down Buffy's cheek, landing with a small plop into her shai. Everything reminded her of him. Every peroxide blonde, every Billy Idol song on the radio, all the guys in leather coats, even a bottle of bleach would never look the same.
Sighing, Buffy waved for a fresh cup of the deliciously comforting hibiscus tea.
"Room for one more?"
Buffy twisted in her seat to see Xander, slightly hard to miss with his conspicuous eye patch and loud English amongst the natives in the packed coffeehouse.
"Hey, Xander. Sure, sit down." She pulled out a curlicue wire chair for one of her closest friends, passing him the untouched tea that the waiter had just placed on the rickety table.
"Shouldn't you be with Will or the rest of the gang?" Buffy asked, slightly disappointed that her angsty solitude had been disturbed.
Xander looked her with his one eye, and Buffy sensed the all-seeing qualities that Dawn and Caleb had pointed out. She couldn't believe she had never noticed just how shrewd Xander was before, and Buffy started to squirm uncomfortably under his unfaltering gaze. She was pretty sure he knew just what she was thinking about.
"Do you think it gets easier?" Xander wondered, as much to himself as to Buffy.
"What does?"
Xander looked her right in the eye again and answered; "Losing the person you love."
Buffy started to squirm again. She was so ashamed of herself for forgetting about Anya- the ex-demon may have had her annoying eccentricity, but she was sensitive and kind under it all, and of course Xander must be feeling the same way she was.
"I'm really sorry about Anya," Buffy said, placing her hand on top of Xander's. "I'm not sure if I even said that before."
Xander smiled sadly. "It's alright Buff. It's only been like a week since we closed the Hellmouth, and we all know you've been out of it since Spike…" Xander trailed off.
Buffy returned the sad smile. "It's OK, Xand. You can say that he's-that he's…dead."
"…died." Xander finished, gripping Buffy's hand tighter.
With that one small word, Buffy felt the overwhelming need to be alone again. She pulled her hand back, and stood up.
"I'm gonna go shopping, seeing as we're in this huge bazaar. Might as well take advantage of it. See you at the hotel tonight." Buffy threw a handful of notes on the table, "For the tea." She then turned and walked out of the coffeehouse, ignoring the wolf whistles from a few creeps near the doorway.
Xander watched her go dejectedly. Willow was sure that he would be able to get through the Buffy, seeing as he had lost someone dear to him during the final moments of Sunnydale as well. Xander wallowed in his grief for the first three days, and then appeared to come out fine. Willow knew he still wept in private, usually at night. But he didn't completely submerge himself in anguish like Buffy did. She had barely spoken to any of the Scoobs at all since the day of Sunnydale's demise, and even on the plane to Egypt, she had just put her headphones on and ignored everyone.
Giles was especially anxious- but that was his nature. Faith appeared not to care, but everyone knew she did. Xander sat down again at the table, brushing his feet over the thick woven rug, nursing the cup of tea Buffy had left. He would try again tonight at the hotel. Buffy couldn't stay depressed over Spike forever. She had eventually come around after killing Angel- although she had wigged and lived in L.A for the first three months. Xander felt a twinge of unease. If that was what she had done over Angel, what was she liable to do this time?
Buffy pushed through the throngs of sweaty people crowding the tiny alleyways of the bazaar, gasping for breath when she finally ducked into the entrance of a stall, sending the beaded curtain flapping. She looked around, and taking in the various zodiac symbols, heavy aroma of incense, twinkling crystals and candles; flaming flickering in the slight breeze, gathered she was in some kind of mystic place.
Buffy jumped as a dark skinned, hoop earring-wearing woman drifted out from what seemed to be thin air.
The woman gasped as she caught sight of Buffy, and threw her hands in the air. "The Slayer!" she hissed, the many rings on her thin fingers glinting in the candlelight.
Buffy looked at the soothsayer in shock. "How do you know that?" was all she managed to blurt out.
"I am All Seeing. I know much about you, Slayer."
Buffy was now wary. Any strange person with knowledge of her was never good news.
"I know what you seek," the seer's eyes flashed, becoming almost reptilian. Buffy blinked- surely a trick of the light.
"Oh yeah? What is it I seek?" Buffy asked, bravado and confidence back in her tone and stance.
"The one who walks in the darkness. The man who breaks all the ancient rules. The vampire!" The mystic's voice pitched, and her eyes, heavily circled in black kohl, flashed again.
Buffy took a step back. This woman was obviously for real. But what exactly was she?
"So what if that's what I seek?" Buffy retorted, covering up the shake in her voice.
"Because I can give you back what you lost. I can bring back this vampire…this Spike." The mystic's voice was more conniving now, the cunning whisper of a used car salesman.
Buffy shook her head. "Uh-uh. No way. Lady, I've died twice. I know what happens when you resurrect someone- it's not of the good." Despite her confident words, Buffy trembled inside. What if she could have Spike back? She was almost willing to risk whatever repercussions the earth threw back at her to have him with her again.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous. All I need is photograph or a personal item, and then he can be back with you once again," the soothsayer cajoled.
Buffy slipped her fingers into her jacket pocket and caressed the thin silver lighter she kept there at all times, then quickly retracted them. "No."
But Buffy kept thinking. When she had been raised from the dead, she'd been yanked out of Heaven, a beautiful place she'd never wanted to leave. But there was no guarantee Spike would go there. His sordid history as a vampire surely had to count against him.
You're reaching, she thought to herself. You're just trying to find a reason to let this freaky random bring him back.
Buffy reached for the lighter once more, and then withdrew her hand again.
"No," she repeated, and walked towards the door.
"Wait, child," the seer called, "you are missing your chance!"
Buffy made no reply and walked right out the doorway, back into the crowded Khan Al-Khalili main alley.
Walking through the swarm of tourists and locals alike, Buffy felt for the lighter, looking for a small piece of comfort. Feeling nothing but the lining of her pocket, Buffy gasped in horror. She rooted thorough the pockets on her pants, and still nothing. Spinning around, Buffy gazed frantically for the seer's stall. But it was gone. Chintzy souvenir shops surrounded her, as did shops with cotton sheets, glass perfume bottles and ornate jewellery, but no fortune telling in sight. Buffy paced back a few steps, still looking, still seeing nothing. Collaring a stall owner, Buffy asked him, "Is there a fortune telling stand in this area of the markets?"
The man shook his head. "No," he said slowly, "no, there are no fortune telling in all of Khan Al-Khalili."
"Are you sure?"
"Very sure, miss. Would you like to have a look at my glass bottles?"
"No. Thank you." Buffy paced away from the man, and looked around again.
"What have I done?" she murmured.