Title: Grave Flower

Author: Bianca Masiello

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, FX, UPN, Mutant Enemy, blah blah. we know the drill.

Beauty of the night alone A simple kiss and now I've flown Light's glowing, burning life Never sharing, never kind Slowly now the light will fade Don't leave flowers at my grave - Bianca Masiello

Synopsis: Set at the end of Sleeper, what if Spike had gone through with the First's plans? Touch of AU: Tara's alive, and Xand and Anya got hitched. Spuffy but tasteful in a dark way.

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Angel's Tears

She watched as they held him down. He kicked and screamed her name. She only smiled at his agony.

"How could you!" he screamed fitfully, disbelief rhyming through his tone. The blond simply sparkled her eyes and tilted her head up.

"Miss Summers?" The Lieutenant asked. She turned to face the man.

"Mm," she greeted. Spike watched as she went from sinful pleasure to suddenly looking dazed and helpless. The change happened so fast, Spike was caught in her whirl wind of lies.

"Say again what the vampire's been experiencing." He asked. "It's for the militaries studies. Don't quite understand it myself, but they'd like the facts for their studies." He explained unnecessarily.

"The chip," her voice wavered slightly, "Began malfunctioning a few days ago. Firing randomly," she brushed her cheek with the back of her hand dramatically, but not over the top. "He says things, acts, out of his mind," she trailed off.

The Lieutenant nodded, then whispered, "And may I ask ma'ma, why you want to have his chip removed? He is just a vampire, a monster by most standards. Now, Agent Finn said the situation was unusually complicated, but aren't you afraid he might start killing again."

Malice flickered bright green in her eyes for only a split second, "Things are complicated," she said simply, her voice low, but still sounding feminine and pained. Just as she intended. The Lieutenant shook his head, not quite understanding, but he was just following orders. The question had been out of his own curiosity.

A doctor appeared in the door way. Everyone there turned to him as the doctor nodded to the Lieutenant.

The strong looking, black Lieutenant turned to his men restraining Spike, "Send him in." He ordered. Buffy turned to see Spike had finally stopped struggling. He'd seen the doctor, and Buffy could sense that he understood what she was doing.

She detected a faint smile on his face. Buffy tilted her head and placed a hand on the left side of her face then mouthed only to Spike, "Gottcha," He laughed slightly, jerked once more against the military personnel, not really trying to escape. Though, Buffy could only imagine what delightful games he would have played with her if they'd released him right then.

There was always time for games later.

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"My hand hurts." Xander complained. They just continued walking on the side walk. Anya reached over and took Xander's hand, caressing it tenderly.

"There, there," she said quietly.

"We've knocked on every door down this street," Giles said tiredly. "No one has seen a thing."

"Well if Anya haddn't opened conversation a couple times with, 'We think a vampire is holding our friend hostage under your house, please let us in,' things might have gone better," Willow commented.

"Hey! It wasn't like your sympathetic angle was working. 'Oh, sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but we've been traveling and need nourishments'." Anya mocked bitterly.

"I did not say that." Willow protested.

"Both are lies anyway." Lindsey spoke up; her voice was most sullen out of all of them. She wasn't as good at pushing the ugly, hard, real truths out of her mind like the Scoobies had. Because there was work to be done. They didn't even have her body to bury, though no one mentioned that.

Willow was looking up ahead, eyeing a door at the end of the street. The apartment was shadowy and seemed darkly cut off from the rest of the avenue.

Willow pointed to the house. "Should we try that one?" she asked.

"Looks spooky." Anya said. "Though that's probably the kind of house Spike would go for, so, get with the knocking Xander." Anya added. She gave him a firm pat on the back then receded to the rest of the group, leaving Xander standing somewhat on his own.

"Hey hey, somebody's coming with me." Xander protested, turning quickly to face the group.

Lindsey, with more determination than anger, stormed past them all. They watched in watered amazement as she walked right up the steps to the door. Beat. Then she knocked. No answer. Lindsey placed her flat hand against the door.

"It's freezing," she noted. Willow caught Lindsey reaching slowly for the doorknob first.

"Hey, maybe we sho." but she didn't get the chance to finish. Lindsey turned the knob and pushed the door in. A gush of frigid air burst through the door frame. Lindsey immediately shivered.

"Holy mother of God." Lindsey sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest instinctively. The raven haired girl shivered once more then turned back to the Scoobies. "So," she paused, "Are you coming, or do I have to hunt Spike down alone?"

Not surprisingly, the lights didn't work. The group inched through the house, weary not to bump into too many things. Though a few table corners were collided into and a few anonymous yelps were sounded in the dark.

"Flashlights?" They were reminded.

"Oh yeah!" Xander's unmistakable voice of remembrance sounded as he pulled out his flashlight. With a twist, light shone from the think stick around the room.

"Look for a basement door." Anya suggested.

"How am I supposed to know if it's a basement door?" Lindsey put an emphasis on basement.

"I dono, sometimes they're in hall ways." Anya glanced around. Giles was still searching his pockets for his flashlight.

"Wait, wait. I think." Lindsey had found hers and switched it on. A door appeared in front of them. "There!" She exclaimed. The door quickly opened, though no light was shed into the room. Lindsey stepped into the basement, onto a platform with stairs. She pointed her flashlight down into the room. Lindsey tensed up, and the others noticed.

"What's going on?" Giles asked from behind her. Lindsey started to shudder; she dropped her light and turned to them. She pushed her way through them and out of house quickly. Willow blinked. They were in no immediate danger, so she turned and dashed out after Lindsey.

Willow stepped out of the house into the twilight air. She glanced over to the right. Lindsey was throwing up in a bed of flowers.

"God," Anya said from in the house. They'd all heard Lindsey getting sick. It was unnerving. Giles was the first to turn back to the basement. He stepped inside and bent to pick up Lindsey's light, as he couldn't find his own. The old Watcher stood and shone the flashlight over the room. He suddenly felt sick too.

In large bloody letters across the far wall was written: Don't leave flowers at my grave.

A young woman was propped up on a table facing them. Her eyes were wide and dead, her head slightly tilted to the right as if she were intrigued. She sat so perfectly still under the letters, holding a bouquet of black roses.

------

After the zillionth ring, Dawn set the portable down. She rested her head on the open book in front of her.

"It's hopeless, Angel's not there. I don't think he's even in LA. On the face of the earth." she moaned. Tara walked over and set Dawn's cup of tea down. She pulled out the chair next to her and rested.

"We'll contact him soon," She reassured her. Dawn rested her head a moment longer before looking up.

"It's possible that Buffy's still alive," The brunette said. Tara blinked and a line appeared between her eye brows.

"Oh Dawny," she started.

The girl waved at the witch to silence her, "No, listen. Faith's still out there, in jail, right?" she started. Tara still frowned but listened wearily. "What if she died? That would get another Slayer called, right?" Dawn asked hopefully.

Tara wasn't sure what to say. It was a real possibility, and she was suddenly upset she hadn't thought of it before. But it was so unlikely; she didn't want to get Dawn's fragile hopes up just to have them shattered when they found Buffy's body.

"Dawn, Buffy went looking for Spike two days ago," Tara reminded her. "Spike's dangerous again, and he can hurt your sister. We haven't seen or heard from either of them since." Dawn knew the facts. It was the hope she wanted so badly. The witch saw frustration rise in Dawn's eyes.

"I know." She said quietly.

Tara sighed, "But we can call the jail in L.A. and check, if you want."

Dawn's eyes lit up again, then realized, "We don't have the number here. Angel has it, though,"

"Then try him again," Tara said. Dawn set her jaw, took a breath, then nodded, picking up the phone. The girl had grit.

The phone rang a zillion more times. Then finally.

"Angel investigations." Fred greeted. Dawn loudly sighed with relief.

"It's Dawn," she started.

"Oh! Dawn! Hello! It's been so long," Fred started in excitedly.

Dawn glanced at Tara and whispered away from the phone's mouth piece, "Should I ask for Angel?" Tara thought for a moment, then shook her head yes.

"He'll want to know what's going on, and we have to t-tell him sooner or later." She stuttered slightly. Dawn nodded.

"Hello?" Fred called, now sounding worried.

"I wish I could do the small talk thing, Fred, but, is Angel there?" Dawn asked tentatively.

"One moment," she said cheerily. Dawn looked at Tara, who was waiting patiently, and they both frowned. The littlest Scoobie knew how hard this was going to be. It would have been a lot harder without the little Faith hope. Faith hope, Dawn thought funnily with an inside smile.

"Hello?" Angel spoke. It was so odd, but so good to hear his voice again.

"Hey Angel," Dawn started. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words just flew away before she could form them.

"What's going on?" He asked, not really afraid of something bad, just asking.

"I have some things that you need to know, but I don't want to say anything until I call the Women's Correction Center. Do you ha."

"Why isn't Buffy calling?" he asked. Dawn was frozen. She didn't have an answer.

"S'apart of the news," Dawn's voice was deadpan. Angel was quiet for a while, and it gave Dawn the wiggins.

"923-3321, I'm coming down there." He said quickly. Dawn could hear him get up in a hurried rush around the hotel.

Dawn began to protest, "But I haven't even said,"

"You don't have to Dawny." Angel said so softly, Dawn felt the tears well up in her throat again. "Where's Spike, as much as I hate this," he muttered, "He'll be a big help hunting this thing down." Angel supposed quickly, in a hurry again.

"Spike's missing," Dawn said quietly. She could hear Angel stop again. She could image the next words out of his mouth, 'Missing?' or maybe.

"Spike doesn't have her," Angel inhaled sharply, "Does he," he daren't form a question out of his thoughts. It's easier on your heart when you speak them as truths.

Dawn and Tara both looked up as the rest of them entered the magic box. A good half of them were sickly looking, crushed. Giles was moving so slow, the girls though that he might just sit there on the floor and die.

"Dawn," he looked at her, "Is that Angel," Giles asked weakly. Dawn shook her head feebly. Giles staggered over to her and she handed him the phone. The old Watcher turned and started for the dark training room.

Tara looked up to see Willow and Lindsey leaning on a wall. Xander and Anya had taken a seat on the step down that separated the two halves of the shop. They were afraid to speak. Tara slowly rose to her feet and Willow looked up. Her eyes swelled with tears.

Xander took Anya in his arms and rocked her slowly. The young woman just kept looking dead ahead, hushed tears falling from her eyes, mixing with her already sodden face.

Tara took a few steps closer to her friend and Willow looked down again, unable to do much more.

"It was bad," she choked. Will's voice was so small; Tara nearly missed what she said.

In the other room, Giles finally lifted the phone to his ears.

"Damn it. Hello?" Angel called again.

"Angel," Giles greeted. Angel was staggered by his tone. He'd never heard the old Watcher so, lost.

"Giles, what's happening," he asked.

Giles took a shallow breath, "Don't leave flowers at my grave," he said. Angel's strength left him. "She wrote it, in blood." He breathed. "What does it mean?" Giles asked with naïve and frail curiosity.

A silence fell over them. Angel understood the words fully, as Buffy knew he would.

"Years ago, when I was in Sunnydale, and I was Angelus, I made a promise to Buffy." Angel frowned his words flowed slowly, carefully. He would not shed tears. "I promised that I would be her sire, that she would never be alone again. I wrote her a poem." He paused to regain his calm. "It said that the people she loved wouldn't be able to leave flowers at her grave because she wouldn't be there."

Giles inhaled slowly. "Thank you," He said.

"Giles, I'm coming to Sunnydale." Angel tried not to sound forceful. Giles simply nodded, knowing that Angel couldn't see him. He lowered the receiver from his ear and turned it off.

------

Cordelia was watching Angel's phone call from just outside his office. He set the phone down on it's holder and hung his head, letting it rest in his hands.

And he cried.

She stepped into his office and he looked up.

"Cordy," he greeted, trying to dry his eyes quickly, feeling caught.

"It's Buffy, isn't it." She said calmly. She was so perceptive sometimes; she could just get this tone to her voice. It reminded Angel that she wasn't just a ditzy high school cheer leader, but a woman. She is a wonderful, caring woman whom he loved.

"I have to go." Angel said getting up. He stumbled a bit over his chair, knocking some papers off his desk. They floated to the floor and he just stepped over them. Angel walked around his desk to his coat rack and pulled down his deep chocolate brown leather jacket.

Cordy walked up behind him slowly, her arms crossed. Angel went to pull on his jacket but stopped.

"She's gone, this time," he said quietly. He sounded like he might say something more, like 'forever'. But he held his tongue. Stupid human heart, always holding on to that last bit of dead hope.

Cordelia knew there was nothing she could do, so she didn't ask. Just waited for Angel to speak, turn around, cry again - as unnerving as that may be. Anything.

"I might not be back for a few days," he said, finally pulling on his coat. "Hold my calls." He said quietly.

"Was that a joke?" she asked, not laughing at all. Angel turned his collar out with a flick, then slowly turned around. His dark eyes just looked her over. Resting somewhere in the carpet.

"The first time was hard enough." He said. "But at least then, I knew she was at peace." Angel replied.

Cordy became confused, "Angel," she questioned, letting her arms fall to her side. The vampire looked up at her. The question in her eyes turned to understanding. The brunette placed a hand over her mouth quickly to keep from screaming.

Angel set his jaw and walked up to Cordelia. He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead gingerly. Cordy's eyes fell closed in pain and pleasure. Angel's hands left her and she knew, he was gone.

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