CHAPTER 1 - LETTERS

LOS ANGELES

DECEMBER 19, 2003

FRIDAY

1:00AM

Spike paced back and forth in the small confines of his 'new' studio apartment, smoking his fifth cigarette in a row. Or was it his tenth?

Before becoming corporeal, he'd been nagging Angel for a space to call his own, only to have his requests fall on the deaf ears of the git.

However, after the fight, in which he beat Angel over the phony cup of torment for the chance to fulfill the Shanshu Prophecy, Angel had been quick to arrange for housing for Spike. Best to keep him out of Angel's sight as much as possible and away from things he could actually affect, now that he wasn't a ghost.

The day after their fight, Angel had sent one of the flunkies over to hand Spike the keys and address of a little, furnished, basement (what else?) studio apartment in East L.A., no less. It had a small bed, a chair, an old black and white TV set, hot plate, microwave, and one of those dinky college dorm refrigerators.

His landlord was the mother of one of Wolfram & Hart's lawyers. Obviously, so they could keep tabs on him, know when he was coming and going. He had looked for bugs when he moved in, and although he didn't find any, he didn't doubt for a second that his whereabouts were being monitored.

"Like the bleedin' Jungle," he said, referring to the book by Upton Sinclair about the meatpacking industries in Chicago, where all the employees worked at the stockyards, lived in company houses and bought their food and necessities at the company stores and more than likely buried in the company's cemetary as well.

For that reason, Spike preferred to find his own sources for blood. A little butcher shop on his way home served his purposes just fine.

Angel had even provided him with a car, not one of the new shiny toys in Wolfram & Hart's garage, but a 10 year old Ford Escort with blacked out windows. How generous!

But that wasn't the reason he was pacing this night, nor was it that the dirty gray walls were closing in on him. Nor that he felt old, useless, and tired.

No, the reason he was pacing was because of what he had seen earlier that day.

Spike had gone into the office, as he did everyday, with the intent to sit in on the latest meeting with Angel and the gang. Not that he was wanted there. Or needed. Despite that he went out almost every night, just to dust a few vamps, see if he could thwart some evil doings. Despite that he would help in other ways, with bigger cases if they would only let him.

But no, Angel dismissed anything Spike had to say, whether or not it was a decent idea, whether or not the others agreed. Angel barely tolerated Spike, wouldn't make direct eye contact with him, and the only reason he didn't just send him packing, was he knew where Spike was likely to go, and of course, the ponce couldn't stand that.

When Wesley had come back, he confirmed that it could be potentially dangerous for Spike to leave the country or L.A., for that matter; send the whole balance of the world out of whack, more than just having two, souled, champion vampires had already done.

Spike walked towards Angel's office. Harmony wasn't at her desk, so he didn't bother to wait for an invite, which now Angel insisted on. Instead, he just walked in. The office was empty. Spike walked over to the window behind Angel's desk to soak up some non-lethal sunrays and look at the view over the city.

He looked back at the door and then back at Angel's desk. If they weren't going to let him in on one of their cases, he'd just find out about them himself.

He looked through the papers on Angel's desk and didn't find anything interesting. Same with the unlocked drawers. He was about to leave when he saw a piece of paper sticking out from underneath Angel's desk. Odd.

He felt under the desk, and found a latch. Down popped a whole other secret compartment. He took out the papers he found and set them on Angel's desk.

His stomach clenched when he saw they were letters from Buffy.

He put them in chronological order and started to read. The first was dated 6/1/03, a couple of weeks after he they had closed The Hellmouth, after he had died. It read:

Dear Angel,

I'm sorry I haven't contacted you earlier, but since the world didn't end, I figured you knew that we won. I also figured that you knew I survived, or someone would have let you know.

We won.

But not without a terrible price.

Many potentials lost their lives and I feel for those families whose daughter's gave their lives for the cause. With Willow's spell, where I shared my slayer power with all of them (not the only chosen one anymore) they had just enough time to fight like a slayer, before dying like one as well. In battle. Against Evil. And yet I live, as do most of the gang.

I know you didn't know Anya, but she was a good friend and Xander's girlfriend (once more, and almost had been his wife, but that's another story).

And then there's Spike. I gave the amulet you brought to him. Actually, he'd seen us that night and when I got back to the house and (besides some jealous vampire crap, not unlike yours), he asked about the shiny trinket. He said that since you were going to wear it, then he was the likely candidate, that it needed someone strong to bear it, unless I wanted to give it to Andrew (don't ask, but think of him as...somewhere between Cabaret and Revenge of the Nerds, if you want to get an idea).

I gave it to him, because he had become a champion in so many ways. Not in a big, sweeping, 'Caped Crusader,' type of way, but in consistently steady ways. Trying and succeeding in becoming a better man. Becoming a man.

A man I was very proud to know.

Spike wore it into The Hellmouth and when it activated, energy exploded upward, through the ceiling of The Hellmouth and all the way up through the floors of the school, blasting a hole right out of the roof. As the sunlight came down, it literally went through Spike and shot out through the amulet, in a huge swath, literally exploding the ubervamps and tumbling the walls of The Hellmouth, and all of Sunnydale in it's power.

I tried to get Spike to leave, told him he'd done enough, but he stood fast, saying it was something he had to do, that it was for him to do the cleanup.

stupid, stubborn vampire

But he stayed, he finished, Spike closed The Hellmouth. Without him, there was no way that our handful of newly empowered slayers could have killed thousands and thousands of ubervamps, for that's how many were in The Hellmouth, just waiting to come out.

It's taken me two weeks to complete this letter. It's just so hard for me to put it all down. I've tried to come to terms with all of it; with not being the only chosen one (you'd think that would have been easy, but it feels like I'm adrift somehow now...without an anchor)with Sunnydale being gone forever, with Spike dying...that's been the hardest. I feel like I should feel guilty that I'm feeling worse over losing Spike over all the others, but I can't.

I told you that Spike was in my heart, but it wasn't until the very last moments of his existence that I told him. Know what he did? He denied it. Funny, huh? I think he thought that I was just saying it to him because I knew he was going to die, but it wasn't. It wasn't.

Angel, I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you to hear, but I spent too much time and energy denying my feelings for Spike and even though it does him no good now, I won't deny them to anyone for the sake of being proper of whatever the hell it is people expect(ed) from me.

The really pathetic (on my part) and sad (on his) thing about all this is, that I don't think in his whole life, Spike really ever felt loved by anyone. Not even as William.

Yes, I know about William. Quite a bit, in fact. It was being jilted by a woman, which sent him into that alley the fateful night that Dru met up with him. Now, once again, for love - not just for me, but for humanity, he dies a last time.

Irony, huh? I think Spike would appreciate that.

I just wish that you could have known him these past few months. I know there is at least a century and more of animosity between you about things I don't even know and probably don't want to...but he had become a good man...and if you could have gotten past that, I think you would've seen that.

As for me, I don't know exactly what I'm going to do with myself. We're in Sorrento, Italy right now, locating other slayers who have been called, trying to get them together so we can begin training them somehow. It's just that they're scattered all over Europe and even further. The task will be daunting. In the states, Faith and Robin Wood are setting up a training school for these slayers in Cleveland.

I hope all is well with you and wish you much luck in trying to run Wolfram & Hart.

All my best.

Buffy

Spike wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

She loved him! She had told Angel as much, she had meant it! Angel knew, despite what he'd said to him during their fight. He bloody well knew!

The next letter was dated September 22, 2003:

Dear Angel,

Good news!

We've been able to locate about half a dozen of the new slayers, who've been called. That's of the good. Language barrier, not so much. Luckily, Giles knows some Italian. We've been starting to train them, which keeps us all busy, and keeps me in some sort of shape, because since I've been here, I haven't had one sense of a vampire anywhere around. But then again, Sorrento just isn't a hotbed of demonic activity, unless you call wine drinking evil. There would probably be more in Rome, which is where I think we're heading next.

The area we're in is beautiful, but somehow I just can't feel it. I mean, I see it, smell it, taste it, yet something's missing.

That's about it. Just wanted to let you know I'm okay, whatever that means.

Best,

Buffy

Spike sighed, there she was in a beautiful country, surrounded with beautiful scenery, peace and quiet and she's aching for a smackdown. Well, he knew how she felt.

November 1, 2003

Dear Angel,

We're in Rome! So much more to my liking...two things I'm liking: vampires to stake and shopping. Not so much in that order.

At least going out and slaying vamps gives me some purpose, even if Giles insists that I take along half the contingent each time I go. Sometimes I sneak out by myself, just to get some peace and quiet. Ha! Slaying vamps being equated with peace and quiet. Well, after I slay 'em it does become a lot more peaceful! They seem to like to hang out at the Coliseum a lot, and I like being there, too. Too bad for them.

As for shopping...heaven. Leather is big in Rome, not in a kinky way (though it may be, too) but in the wallets, picture frames, outside of hand mirrors, etc., sort of way. Oh, and the fashions - wow! Dawn and I have been having a picnic decking ourselves out like the most in-style European ladies.

Guess it's called shopping therapy and by the looks of the new wardrobe and shit load of shoes I've acquired, guess I'm needing a lot of it.

Empty pretty things.

Best,

Buffy

Spike had been so happy to hear something about Dawn and he smiled just imagining Buffy shopping and buying new shoes, clothes, and what-not, but he'd stopped smiling when he'd come to her last couple of sentences.

Her last letter was just dated about three weeks ago.

November 28, 2003

Dear Angel,

We're England bound! A friend of Giles has come through with an offer of a building to use for training the new slayers, plus rebuilding the council. Not on my top priority, but Giles thinks it's a good idea. Well, with him leading it, it won't be the same council at least. Guess he'll have to start training watchers, as well as me and some of the other girls from Sunnydale that were with me, in charge of training with the newer slayers.

Pretty funny when you think of it, I've got 7 years under my belt, and these girls have about 7 months and they're also being called upon to train others. Well, having survived The Hellmouth, guess that qualifies them, as much as anything.

We'll be staying at a house that Giles owns in London. Who knew?

I'm glad to be going to a country where the language difference won't be such an issue (if you discount the new slayers) but I hear the food sucks and I've been spoiled by all this yummy Italian food and wine. If I didn't train so hard every day, I'd probably weigh a ton by now. As it is, I've gained almost 10 lbs! Not that I'm worried, I think I lost almost 20 this past year, what with worrying about everything, being short of money, worrying about...everyone, not to mention, working at that greasy spoon pretty much put me off food. So, guess it's a good thing that my clothes aren't hanging off me like so many rags, as they were in the beginning.

We'll be arriving in London around December 10. I'll write you once we get settled in. Probably after the New Year. Is it possible that the holidays are so close? Last year it was horrible at Christmas time, Spike had been captured by The First and nearly killed and that was when we saw our first ubervamp. Happy holiday memories, huh?

Speaking of Spike, I was out patrolling a couple of weeks ago and I could have sworn that I saw him, only it was just some punk who'd dyed his hair white and had a leather coat on. And damned if he wasn't a vampire, also. I killed him extra dead, just for making my heart almost stop when I saw him!

I just can't believe he's gone sometimes. It just feels like he's still here, just not here. Know what I mean.

Hope you have happy holidays, Angel. You know you'll always be my friend.

Best,

Buffy

"I am still here, Buffy," Spike whispered. He wiped his eyes again. He took one more look at the letters. He wanted to take them with him to read again and again, but he knew he couldn't. He didn't want Angel to know that he'd read them. So, he committed her letters to memory, to bring out when he wanted to. He brought the letters to his nose and inhaled deeply, just getting barely the faintest scent of her off of them, but it was enough. It was her. Buffy.

He'd replaced the letters carefully the way they had been and left the office. There was still nobody about, which seemed strange. Just then the elevator door opened and off walked Angel.

"What are you doing here Spike?"

"What do you think I'm doing, you ponce? Waiting for you and your band of do-gooders, see what's up, the latest evil, the latest plan which you can exclude me from."

"Why bother then, Spike?"

"Well, just want to know what's going on. What else have I got to do?"

"Well, there's nothing going on right now, that's why I took the morning off and went to Santa Monica to see a client. A normal, non-evil client."

"I see, well, I'll just mosey along, then."

"Yeah, why don't you do that Spike?"

"And why don't you get stuffed?" Spike replied, walking off.

He smiled as the elevator doors shut.

Spike lit yet another cigarette, as his mind reread Buffy's letters. He had to see her! Even if that's all he did, even if only for a moment, he had to go to London!

END CHAPTER 1