Little Bitty Puzzle Pieces

By PJzallday

Reconstruct

After a brief chat with Joe the doorman about how women have a tendency to overreact to things, John wandered out to catch his bus.

As he boarded, the bus driver welcomed him with a smile. "Happy holidays."

John returned the greeting then found a seat. Fretfully scanning the other passengers, he noticed that everyone appeared perfectly "normal". There was a woman reading a Christmas card to another sitting beside her; some teenagers were comparing wish lists; and there were people with their eyes turned to the floor or looking out the window. All seemed as it should. No one paid him much mind when he boarded, neither while he sat nor when he disembarked. As the bus pulled away from the curb and John started to walk to few blocks to his flat, the man felt at ease.

With a quick glance at his watch and some mental calculation, he figured he'd still have time for a few hours sleep before work. As he looked up, he noticed a young woman standing at the end of the driveway of the Clements' house. She was rummaging in her purse. Just seeing the girl had John instantly on edge. What was she doing in front of his landlords' house? In front of his home!? No time to stop and think about it! He bolted hoping she wouldn't notice him before he made it to the corner and out of sight.

His pace slowed when he hit the main street — didn't want to draw any undue attention. What would he do? He couldn't go home — not now with that spy out front. But he had to call Jude; she'd be worried if he didn't. She might come looking for him. She could be in danger if she did! He had to call!

***

Buffy awoke well-rested but disoriented. When she nervously scrambled to flick on the bedside lamp, she knocked the table and something rattled. Curious, she tossed off the duvet and climbed out of bed to examine the contents of the table-drawer. Inside she found a glass tea light holder, a box of matches and two crystals (one a smoky-white, the other, a deep blue) and one green tumbled stone. "At least it isn't chicken's feet or rat's eyes," Buffy muttered.

Feeling a bit stiff from travelling and the strange bed, she tipped her head from one side to the other, loosening her neck muscles. Then she dipped low, bending at the waist to stretch her legs and back. After lifting herself back up and raising her arms overhead to stretch them and her shoulders, she winced, "I need a shower."

Before her nap, Buffy had been too tired to think of anything but sleep so although the trip had been long, she'd turned in without having done more than a little freshening up by washing off her makeup and brushing her teeth. Now, having slept, the young woman was all too aware of her own presence and the clamminess of her skin. Going to her suitcase, Buffy chose some comfy clothes into which to change then went down the hall to the showers.

***

The phone was ringing when she switched off her blow-dryer. "Oh! John," she said out loud anticipating the caller as she hurried to the phone. "Hello?"

"Jude. I'm home. No need to worry," he assured, trying not to let too much of his embarrassment over his behaviour earlier show.

"I'm glad." With so many questions running through her head, Judith couldn't think what more to say.

Uncomfortable with the silence on the line and not wanting to stay too long where he was, John interjected, "Well, I'm gonna try and catch a few winks before work."

"John!" Jude blurted, hoping he'd not gone to put down the phone.

"Yeah?"

"Are you alright?"

"Sure," he replied.

"No, I mean really. You haven't seemed yourself since you came back from Oregon." Apprehensively she asked, "Did you learn anything from that carpenter guy?"

Now it was John who was quiet. Her mention of his trip had him ill-at-ease and in no way encouraged the man in the conversation.

Jude had to break the silence. "John?"

"Still 'ere," he said sombrely. After a few more wordless moments, the man spoke, "Jude…" He swallowed hard. "Harris, that's the bloke's name, 'e gave me a business card… for a guy who knew me a long time. Said 'e was almost like family."

"Does he live in Oregon?"

"No. Turns out Harris moved up there after Sunnydale was destroyed."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You mean you used to live in Sunnydale?! Were you there up until the end? Or had you moved before that?"

John sighed. Yes, he'd apparently been there right to the end — helped save the world from being overrun by evil blood-sucking demons and whatnot before being swallowed up by Hell — but he couldn't tell her that. "I guess I was there pretty much to the end."

"Wow…" She briefly pondered the magnitude of such a story before remembering how they got off on this tangent. "But what about this other guy? Business-card guy?"

"Yeah… ah… Guess 'e's some kind of private detective. Lives in Los Angeles."

"And he knew you before you moved to Sunnydale."

"Yeah…"

"Will you go see him, John?" she inquired hopefully as she sat down, prepared to listen intently to his reply. "Oh! Did Harris know your name? Should I call you something else now?"

John was still quite uncertain about his interest in pursuing his past any further but he knew he didn't care to share what he had learned. "I dunno." He wanted to convince his friend that he was content so he said, "Jude, I've got a pretty good life here. Got a job. Nice place to live. A few good friends." He paused a moment, then added, "And I've got-"

"John, where are you?" she interrupted brusquely after looking at her caller I.D. which indicated the call came from a pay-phone. When she'd first picked up, Judith assumed John was calling, so it hadn't occurred to her to look. Now, after only habitually glancing at the box, she made the realization. "You're not calling from home."

How did she know? Did the spies tell her? "Call display, you stupid git," he mumbled to himself.

"What?" Though she knew he'd said something, she couldn't make out what. "John? Is someone there with you?"

But was it just her Caller I.D.? Or had that girl rung the base and reported to her superiors that her cover was blown and that the subject was on the run? John wanted to trust Jude, to believe she was all that she seemed. But if she was just a kind-hearted nurse, he feared for her.

Bewildered by the silence, Jude wondered what had really happened in Oregon. "John? Are you there?" She was frustrated. "Why won't you just tell me what's going on?"

"Jude?" he finally said.

"Yes John," she sighed with relief.

"Thank you."

Before she could say anything more, there was a click and a dial-tone.

***

Having showered and dressed, the hungry visitor ventured through the long hall aglow with the golden light of the smattering of wall sconces to the broad wooden staircase.

"'ello," one of the residents, mug in hand, greeted Buffy as they passed on the stairs.

"Oh… hi. Um… Could you tell me how to get to the kitchen?" she asked awkwardly.

"You'd do better to take the servant stairs," the witch suggested. "Course we've no servants now, but less chance of getting lost going that way until you know your way about. Just g' down to the end o' the hall," she paused, gesturing the direction opposite the one from which Buffy had come. "Last door on the left then right down."

"Thanks." Buffy followed the directions the other woman had provided and arrived at the kitchen without trouble. To her relief, she also found a familiar face.

"Well Buffy. Good to see you," Bea welcomed. "You've had a fine sleep, I trust."

"Yes, thanks." Glancing about the room, the Slayer tried to figure the most polite way to inform her hostess that she was famished.

Then Bea offered, "Would you care for something to eat?" causing Buffy to wonder if the woman could read minds. "Oh, I can," the older woman confirmed. "Sorry. I shouldn't. Dreadful habit, that. Would you care for a mayonnaise sarnie? I can do you egg or tuna."

"Sorry, um… Sarnie?"

"Oh no, I'm sorry luv. Would you like a sandwich? Think we've got egg salad and tuna." She went to the fridge. "Unless you'd like to do a fry-up."

"Ah… I don't know what that is either and I'm pretty much starving," Buffy replied.

"Not surprised. You've not eaten since… the plane I'm supposing. Or p'rhaps a nosh on the train?"

Buffy glanced reactively at her watch, which was no help because it was still on California time. "Um… what time is it?"

"Quarter t' five," was the witches reply as she waved for Buffy to take a seat.

"Oh. When's dinner?" the visitor asked as the witch set a plate of sandwiches on the table.

"Oh my dear, you've slept through dinner."

"Really?" Buffy was surprised and a little baffled by British custom. "Um… What time is dinner normally?"

"We're not too precise about time 'round here," Bea explained, "but usually we sit down to dinner at about half seven."

"But I thought you said-"

"Indeed I did." The older woman grinned with amusement. "Clearly you've misunderstood; it's almost five in the morning."

No wonder she felt so well rested! After months of near-sleepless nights, Buffy had apparently been out for more than fifteen hours of blissful slumber. Unable to attribute the sleep to anything else, she supposed that Willow had been right that the Coven was a good place to recuperate from the pains of the past months.

"Indeed it is," Bea comforted, eliciting a nervously raised brow from across the table. "Sorry. Habit, and you know, I'm not even trying. You're sending out very strong signals. Are you sure there isn't something you'd like to discuss?"

***

Before he'd woken in the hospital, even before he'd been found unconscious on the beach up the coast, John Doe 03021 had been Spike the evil-bloodsucking fiend, who'd killed the love of his life, been ensouled as punishment then later set on a path to redemption and ultimately helped to save the world. It was a ridiculous story if you didn't believe in vampires and a tragic one if you did. John had no choice but to believe, for hearing that he'd been a vampire only clarified what he'd seen in his dreams and lead him to abandon his search for the woman who haunted those dreams and now, his nightmares.

John now had other women about which to worry: Slayer-spies who were following him. Tracking his every move just waiting for him to slip up. Waiting for him to kill again. Or was the government studying him? Seeing if they could successfully reform a vampire and resurrect the human being he'd once been to insert him back as a productive part of society. But what if the experiment didn't work? What if the demon could never really be removed? What if it really was only a matter of time before he killed again? Jude was the dearest person to him in this life. Was she really in danger of him? He'd already proved he could be violent. He'd already frightened her. Should he turn himself in? Give himself over to the government and tell them he shouldn't be allowed to walk the streets? Was he dangerous?!

Clearly he didn't know enough about himself, his past or why he'd been given a new lease on life to make any kind of judgement. He needed help.

"Angel Investigations; we help the helpless," he thought.

***

It took time and yielded tears, but eventually Buffy let out some of the heartache she'd been suppressing for the past several months - for Spike, for the dead girls they'd left behind in the Hellmouth, for Angel, and for Giles.

"I understand some of the bitterness you still carry, Buffy. But you must find a way to come to terms with what's passed so that you can meet the future whole," the woman urged. "I'm not a Seer of the future. I can only see what's in your heart and your mind. You've doubts about your place in the world. Rest assured, you're still needed. And you're still loved. And there are people who can help you, luv." She paused a moment and nodded with a reassuring smile. "Forgiveness is a great gift. Don't be afraid to give it." Leaning forward against the table, Bea pushed herself up. "Even to yourself." With a pat on the younger woman's shoulder, she was gone.

"Forgive myself?" a bewildered Buffy muttered. "What did she mean by that?"

Continue