Title: Letters of…
Chapter: …a Lover (3/27), …Inquiry (4/27)
Rating: PG, PG
Feedback: Mys has decided that she actually likes FB, so… constructive crit is fine, just be prepared for Mys to defend/explain her choices, and try not to do any permanent damage, k.
Disclaimer: Just playing with the pretty kittens. Unfortunately, they are not mine, but I will gladly groom and bathe them before sending them back home to Daddy (aka Joss/Mutant Enemy/et al).
Warnings/Squicks: Beware Mys’ bad writing, excessive use of alliteration, wanton use of the term "Xanpet" (though I’d stake Spike before he actually said it out loud, he and my 3rd person omnipotent think it a lot), character death (but it’s canon stuff, none of my own doing)
Summary: Take a witch, a Spike, a Xander and mix well. Add some angst, some schmoop, some sex, an apocalypse, a wee bit more angst, another helping or two of sex, and a sprinkling of bad humour. Bake for 7-8 months at @96.8 degrees (because some of us have naturally lower body temperatures than the rest of you human weirdos, lol).
…a Lover (3/27)
The crypt was different now, then again everything was different now, but somehow the crypt was comforting (and boy wasn’t that a scary thought) and not because of Clem’s attempts to ‘cheer’ up the place. If he was honest with himself it was because it reminded him of Spike.
Despite or maybe because of everything that had happened he missed the Bleached Wonder, he missed the snarkage, the bad tv, even the no-longer-quite-so-disgusting blood as a condiment and the stains it left everywhere. It had all become the normality of his life.
He told himself that was the only reason he came here.
And if he found himself lying in Spike’s bed it was only because he was tired.
And if he rummaged through what was left of Spike’s things it was only payback.
And if, on occasion, he found himself curled with something still smelling of Spike and a stray tear or two escaped, well, it was only because of life.
Yes, that’s what he told himself, and with a lifetime on the Hellmouth his denial skills almost allowed him to believe it.
There were little things that got in the way of believing that. Like the wedding-that-wasn’t, and yes, he’d meant every word he’d said to Anya that day; he’d just ignored the part about his possible feelings for a certain bleach blonde dead man. Then there was the whole Spike and Anya thing; he truly didn’t know what hurt more, that Anya had slept with Spike or that Spike had slept with Anya. And of course there was Buffy.
The Buffy situation was a huge sticking point- how could Spike do that? They had trusted him, he had trusted him and then for Spike to just run away. And how completely un-Spike-like was that? Spike never ran from anything, except maybe Angelus but that was more for Dru’s sake. Spike didn’t run.
On the flipside that meant that he’d be coming back- it had to. The rest of the Scoobies thought that he’d gone to get the chip out and if or when he came back it would be to reclaim his role as the Big Bad, Master of Sunnydale. Only he, Dawn, and Tara had thought differently. Spike had changed, they could see it, so why couldn’t the others? Maybe they just didn’t want to.
Of course that was before. Tara was dead. And now that Dawn knew what had almost happened with her sis she only felt betrayed; Xander understood that, even agreed with it. Still, it didn’t make him miss the Bleached Menace any less and now with Tara and Willow gone and everything that happened since Spike left, he missed him even more. Damn-it, as much as he hated to say it, he missed his fucking vampire!
It wasn’t everyday a man in a three-piece suit showed up at a construction site. It was even rarer for such a man to not be the bearer of bad news. So when this particular man arrived people noticed. People took even more notice when he was sent in the direction of one Xander Harris.
“Excuse me, are you Alexander Harris?”
“Who’s asking and why?”
“My card, sir.” He handed Xander a very officious looking business card proclaiming him to be a lawyer with some pretentious firm in L.A.
“Okay, that’s the who. What about the why?”
“Are you Mr. Harris?”
Xander sighed. *Damn lawyers.* “Yes.”
“Then, sir, I have a delivery for you.” The man pulled a large manila envelop from his case and handed it to the young man. “Good day, sir,” and he wandered off.
Xander waited until he got home to open the package and was glad he did. He doubted he would have been able to concentrate on anything else once he saw the contents.
Inside the envelop was a second letter sized envelop. The paper looked like it could have come from one of Giles’ books and the handwriting was nothing short of exquisite. A beautiful flowing cursive hand had written his name, his full name, and ‘Sunny Dale, California 2002’. Alright, so this was a little on the weird side, but hello Hellmouth, weird was a way of life. Carefully, he opened the letter and read:
Alexander, you must help William, please. He is lost and even I cannot reach him- there are too many voices. Please Alexander, if you care for my boy a fraction of what I believe you do help him.
He needs us- you and I. I can guide you to what you need to know but you must determine when and how to use it.
The second letter you hold is for William. Keep it with you until you find him. Now, Alexander this may seem unnecessary but I ask that you trust me. When you find him, read the letter to him and ensure his attention is only on you and the letter. He needs to hear the words unadulterated, to hear the truth in them.
Also, in the wall behind his bed is a box, the contents of which may aid you both.
Find him and help him remember. Help him find you. Help him find me. Help him find himself, again.
Have faith in yourself Alexander, just as I do,
Yes, it was definitely good that he had waited until he got home. He needed a stiff drink.
He couldn’t believe he was making this call, but he needed information and knew he didn’t know enough to find it on his own. Unfortunately, he knew who would- now, if they’d just answer the phone!
“Angel Investigations, we help…”
“Wes! Just the researcher I need.”
“Xander? Is everything alright?”
“If you mean has anyone else died or are we in the throes of another apocalypse then no, or well, yes… I mean everyone’s okay. I’ve just never been big on the research and need some pointers.”
“Ah, well, right then, how can I help?”
“Where do I start?”
Taking a calming breath, “Alright, Xander, let’s try this- what do you know?”
“Her name, or part of it.”
“So, it’s female.”
For not the first time Wesley was in awe of his former colleague, how Giles had managed with the likes of Xander Harris never ceased to amaze him, “Demon?”
“No… Hey! Wes, I’m serious. Listen I don’t know much except her name and somehow she knows Spike.”
“Spike! He’s come back?”
“Not yet, but she seems to think he will.”
“She being the reason for the research.”
“Yes!” Finally it seemed he was getting somewhere.
“Alright Xander, calm down. I’m sorry; give me the name and I’ll see what we can find out.”
“Alyssa, A-L-Y-S-S-A. Oh, and she calls him William, not Spike, if that helps. And thanks Wes. Can you call me on my cell if you find anything?”
“Of course Xander, and not to worry we’ll find out who she is.”
“Angel, thank goodness! Will you please tell them this is pointless!?”
“Under normal circumstances I might agree Cordelia, but Xander actually called us to ask for our help.” Before Angel could form the question, Wes answered him, “Everyone’s alright, he merely needs some research assistance. Actually, I was hoping you might be able to expedite matters.”
“Sure. What exactly are we researching?”
If his heart hadn’t stopped beating some two-hundred years ago, it would have now.
“I take it you know of this person.”
“Her full name’s Morgan Alyssa Cerridlyall- someone get me Xander’s number.”
“What did she say?”
“Oh fine Deadboy and how’s your unlife? Good to hear from you too.”
“Xander, I’m sorry, but what did she say?”
“Oh, umm, just that Spike would need our help when he comes back.”
“Yeah, hers and mine.”
“Xander, listen to me, you have to be careful with her. She’s...”
“Hold up, you know her? So, why’s she asking for my help instead of yours?”
“We… tolerated each other.”
“You mean she doesn’t like you.” *I like her more already.* “So, who is she?”
“She was a witch.”
“In case you missed it, I have known a few of those.”
“Yes, but she’s very powerful.”
“Is the blood in L.A. not doing the trick? Umm, Willow ringing any bells for you?”
“Damn-it Xander, Alyssa was the most powerful witch I have ever known. I’d be hard pressed to tell you who was more powerful- Alyssa or Willow.”
“O-kay, point taken. But if she’s that powerful, why does she need my help?”
“Might have something to do with the fact that she’s dead.”
“Dead as in vamp dead or as in normal human dead?”
“Normal dead. She died in the 1800’s.”
“Wait, if she died in the 1800’s, why’s she so concerned about Spike?”
“She knew William, and is very protective of him.”
“You killed her, didn’t you? That’s why she’s asking me instead of you?”
“No. Xander, I swear to you, I did not kill her. I’ll e-mail you if we find anything else- just be careful.”
*Well, that was odd, even for Deadboy. Wonder if he could’ve been any vaguer- not exactly overflowing with the information.* On the other hand Xander now knew she was a witch and dead. It wasn’t much but considering what he’d started with, it was something.