Little Bitty Puzzle Pieces

By PJzallday

Recoil

Hurrying from the mall clutching the gift box to his chest and white-knuckling his shopping bags, John repeatedly shot back glances over his shoulder. Were they behind him? His heart was racing. His chest was tight. He felt as though he couldn't breathe. Everything around him seemed a blur until suddenly a braking car screeched to a halt narrowly missing hitting the frantic man.

"Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" yelled the driver with a fist in the air.

Startled from his panicked daze, John shook himself as he stepped back onto the curb. Looking around, the man found he'd gone several blocks past his bus stop without even realizing. "What the bloody hell am I doing?" he grumbled to himself. "Grown man running off like some nancy from a pair of little girls." He chuckled and shook his head, taking some deep soothing breaths as he sauntered to the next stop.

While he stood waiting, a group of teenagers approached. Some guys, some girls, all laughing and playing around until they seemed to suddenly grow quiet as they passed. Were they looking at him?

"Don't be daft." He shrugged off the feeling as the bus pulled up. When he boarded, he smiled politely at the driver who seemed to give him an odd look, making him uncomfortable and quickly washing the smile from his face. Disheartened, he found a seat and piled his purchases on his lap.

As the bus began to move, John's mind wandered back to the mall. Why had those two girls been staring at him? Why was the Slayer with that thief? Was she a Slayer too? And if she was, was it merely coincidence that he'd run into both girls before? Or that they happened to be that particular mall at the same time as he was? They had been staring. At him. They appeared suspicious. Nervous? They knew he'd seen them. Knew he recognized them. Had they been following him? Spying on him? Were they part of this secret government operation? He'd been a mass murderer. Were they suspicious that he might kill again? Were the girls afraid their cover had been blown?

Panicked again, his eyes darted around the bus. There was a man with two little girls; they were staring at him. A woman with a hat: staring. A teenager in a fast-food uniform: staring. The bus driver in the rear-view mirror: staring. He had to get off the bus! He leaped to his feet and yanked the bell cord. Hard. Hugging his purchases to his chest, he rushed to the rear exit of the bus. Stamping his feet, he pulled the cord again and again. Nothing was happening. He was only becoming more and more agitated, convinced that every woman on the bus was a government spy sent to keep an eye on him, to make sure he stuck to the straight and narrow. Until finally…

The bus stopped and he jumped off, scurrying to the alley-side of a nearby building. As he leaned against the brick, the shattered man slid down to sit on his heels. What would he do now? What should he do? He couldn't stay in the alley. He didn't want to go back to his empty flat where his mind would only fabricate more ludicrous ideas. His composure regained, he reached over to pick up the box he'd dropped and decided to deliver Jude's gift.

***

After Giles left, Andrew returned to the copy-room, collected his cart then pushed it down the hall to the meeting room.

The room was a testament to the hard work the young man had put in over the time he'd been working with the Council, particularly in the weeks that Giles was away from the office. On the wall, he'd affixed a series of maps: one that indicated the homes of the known Slayers who's survived Sunnydale; the second was a preliminary survey of the Earth when they'd begun to re-establish the Council; two others were done two and four months later; the fifth was essentially current; and a sixth projected the state of the world at an uncertain moment in the future, based on the Coven's foresight. At first glance, the information presented on the maps appeared encouraging — there was a marked decrease in demon activity in more populated parts of the world — but the information packets Andrew had been preparing told a rather different story. One which the man feared would have a profoundly negative effect on the Council, particularly those members most important to him.

When he'd arranged the documents, confirmed that the over-head projector worked and that his films were in the correct order, and cleaned his white boards in anticipation of the possible notes and diagrams he'd have to make during his presentation, Andrew took one last look at the room before securely locking the doors then returning home for the long weekend.

***

"Hey Joe," John greeted the doorman. "Jude about?"

"She oughtta be. Working nights this week," the man replied as he buzzed John in. "Been shoppin' I see. Anything for me?" he teased, though his tone had eluded John.

"Ah… sorry Joe. I… ah…"

The doorman chuckled as he walked over and slapped the bewildered visitor affectionately on the back. "Not to worry, John. I'm sure you'll be back," he said with a sly wink. "Judith's a lovely girl."

"She is," John agreed. "Well, cheers mate." He nodded his head and wandered up to his friend's condominium unit. Along the way, he considered the doorman's words: Judith is a lovely girl. And John believed that: she'd been such an immense help to him since he'd awoken in the hospital — and he didn't doubt her care had extended prior to his revival. She'd helped him find a place to live and a job. She'd encouraged him to find out more about himself. Yes, Jude was a lovely girl indeed. Contentedly, he rang her doorbell. Yes, lovely.

But he wasn't lovely: he'd been a mass murderer; evil; a demon. Why had that thought suddenly leapt into his head? What if she was in danger? No! He'd never hurt her. But what about these government spies? They had to know she was his friend. What if they were to kidnap her and interrogate her? Stick tracking devices in her. Bug her phone.

The door opened and John gasped, simply startled from his thoughts.

"Oh John, hi," Jude greeted with a warm smile. "What brings you by?"

Nervously, the man looked around. "Brought you this," he replied holding up the slightly squashed and weathered package. "Looked a lot nicer before I… ah…"

"It's beautiful," she assured. "Would you like to come in?"

"No, I… I shouldn't."

Jude set the gift down just inside her door then stepped out and took John's arm. "Please. I insist," she encouraged, nudging him toward the door but he wouldn't budge. "Hey, come on. I won't bite."

Bells started going off in his head. Bite?! She knew. "You're in on it, aren't you?!" She had to know that he'd been a vampire, that he was being watched by the government, that he was part of some sort of demon rehabilitation program. He grabbed her by the arms and accused, "You know all about it!" Shaking her, he pleaded, "Why are they doing this to me?!"

"John… please. You're scaring me." Jude struggled to free herself from his grasp. "You're hurting me! Ow… John, stop it. What are you doing?!"

He held her. Together they struggled. Fear and bewilderment filled her eyes. He grabbed at her clothes.

She stumbled back and fell to the floor, groaning in agony. "Spike no! Stop… stop!"

Wide-eyed, he cried out, "No! Oh God… I didn't… Not again… I…" Without looking back, John ran.

Judith stood somewhat shaken in the doorway. She wasn't sure whether to go after her friend or to rush inside, bolt the door and count her blessings that he'd not done her any injury. As a nurse, she'd seen what harm people in John's apparent state could do to others and to themselves. Though she'd never known John to be violent, she'd seen him disoriented and distraught after he'd had some memory flash through his head and her awareness of his fragility in those moments, coupled with the fact he'd be out in the street alone, had Judith worried. She picked up the phone and buzzed the doorman. "Joe?"

"Yes, Ms. Sanders? How can I-"

Having no time, Judith interrupted, "Have you seen John?"

"A while ago," the man confirmed, "On his way up-"

"But he hasn't been back yet?"

"No," Joe stated. "Was there-"

"If you see him, please don't let him leave," the nurse urged. "I'm coming down."

"Sure thing."

She quickly hung up and raced out the door.

In the stairwell, she found him huddled with his knees tucked up to his chest and his hands clutching his head; he hadn't gotten far. Cautiously, the nurse approached the crouched figure. "John," she cooed softly.

He stiffened and raised a hand. "Stay away from me!" he choked. "I'm dangerous." Then, as he lowered his hand back to his head, in a soft sob he added, "I'm a bad man. Bad. Bad man."

"John," Jude repeated. "It's OK. I'm not going to hurt you." As he jerked, she knew he was about to speak again but didn't give him a chance. "And I know you're not going to hurt me. It's OK." She knelt down on the step in front of him and set her hands atop his, curling her fingers under his palms to pry his hands from his head. "It's OK. Easy now. You're alright."

"Jude…" He looked to her with shame and fear in his eyes. "I'm… sorry about that bit… before."

"I know." She smiled compassionately. "Come back upstairs with me. Just for a few minutes," Judith tried to convince.

"No. Jude, I should get home. I've gotta get some sleep before work." Holding the railing, John pulled himself up.

"Give me couple of minutes to get my purse; I'll drive you," she said as she climbed a couple of steps.

Her friend shook his head. "Don't want to put you out."

"Fine, but I want you to call me when you're home," she insisted, then more softly she added, "John, please… I worry about you."

He shuffled his feet awkwardly for a moment then agreed to do as she'd asked. As she was about to turn to go upstairs, he leaned toward her and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Happy Christmas, Jude." Then shyly he stepped back and started down the stairs.

"Don't forget: I expect a call," she noted. John would be alright, she decided, he just needed some time to himself.

Back at her apartment, as she closed the door, Judith raised a hand to her cheek, savouring the memory of his lips against it then she noticed the gift John had brought her. Though a little the worse for wear, it was elegantly wrapped with deep green holly paper and a pretty red bow. As she picked it up, she gave the box a slight shake. It didn't rattle but whatever it was shifted inside the package, giving the slight crunch of tissue paper as it hit the edge. The curious woman couldn't wait; she had to know what he'd gotten her. Besides it was almost Christmas and the nurse would be working on the actual day, so she carried the package to the couch and sat down. Carefully at first, she peeled back the corner of the wrap and peeked inside: just a plain gift box. She tore the paper off and pulled off the lid then unfolded the tissue paper. Jude gasped in surprise at the sight of the beautiful sweater. It was soft; the knit, fine. Such a thoughtful gift; Judith was taken aback by her friend's generosity.

Her friend? That's what John was, but the sweater seemed too elaborate to be from a "friend"; too personal to be from someone who'd refused her advances. Had his feelings for her changed? He had just kissed her but she hadn't read too much into that. She didn't want to hope. Quickly she slipped on the gift and looked in the mirror. Though stunning, the sweater wasn't really her. Was it something that "she" would have liked? This woman from his past. What had John learned while he was away? Was that why he'd acted so strangely earlier?

"Aaahhh," she growled. "I don't have time for this!" She pulled off the sweater, tucked it back in the box and went to have a shower.

 

Continue