Little Bitty Puzzle Pieces

By PJzallday

Re-awaken

He came to, tucked up in soft warm sheets. His head pounded; his body ached; his mouth was gummy; and he had to strain to open his dry eyes. It was as if he'd woken up after a long weekend bender, but he didn't recall drinking more than a single shot of vodka since arriving in Los Angeles. After tossing off the linens, he slowly dragged himself to sit at the edge the bed.

"Good mornin' Sleeping Beauty," Lorne greeted from the corner of the room where he lounged with a magazine in a comfortable chair.

"'ave I been out long?"

"Hmm... About a day and a half. But look at you now," the demon said, spreading his arms widely in John's direction. "Bright-eyed and bushy-"

Mid-stretch, John groaned, then clutched his back and rubbed his head.

"Yeah... they said you might be a little stiff afterward. Can I get you something?" offered Lorne as he rose from his chair. "Aspirin? Glass of water? Full body massage?"

"Buffy?" came a hoarse utterance.

"Well, I don't happen to have one of those handy," replied the demon cheerfully. "But I'll see what I can do."

With glistening eyes turned to Lorne, the man asked, "But... she's OK? She's alive?"

Lorne rested a hand on John's shoulder and sat down on the bed beside him. "She is."

The man turned away and brushed a tear from his eye. "So you've seen her?"

"Spike?" Lorne asked, leaning down to catch the man's gaze.

He nodded, acknowledging his former identity.

"Well, whadda ya know..." marveled the demon briefly before answering the question. "Buffy stayed here for a while after Sunnydale."

Spike let out a bitter huff. "With Angel," he groused, cocking his head to peer sideways at the demon.

"Down the hall actually," Lorne noted with a couple of flicks of his wrist and for a moment Spike felt better. Then Lorne admitted, "But they were together."

Spike's heart sank, taking his gaze with it to the floor. He'd spent months searching for her — and for himself. He'd rejected a dear friend that he now knew had been in love with him; rejected Jude on the chance that this woman in his dreams might actually love him... still? Now he remembered her: Buffy. He remembered their months together, and their final days and nights. And he remembered her in Angel's arms, kissing him. "No you don't. But thanks for sayin' it."

"She did you know," Lorne said sympathetically. When Spike turned to him with eyes full of question and need, the demon explained, "I read Buffy about a month ago — like I did you the other day — and she did love you."

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Spike looked away again to admire the surroundings. For a time, the two sat silently until Spike tipped his head back to Lorne and asked, "So, how'd you get the exciting job of babysitting?"

"We've taken turns. Dear little Fred insisted you shouldn't wake up alone," Lorne explained. "Sounded great to me: I got to blow off my meeting with Paris and Nicole." The demon rolled his eyes dramatically. "Can you believe they want another season?"

"Ah... not to be rude, mate, but... Well, I'm awake now." Spike waved his hands as if to cheer. "So you've done your job. You can toddle off."

"Don't you go thinking you're getting off that easily," Lorne scolded.

Spike cocked his head and raised a brow.

"I've just gotta know: do you remember everything? Did the procedure work?"

"You could say that," the man replied. "Things are still a bit of a jumble... but it's all there." He stopped, his brow knitted then he corrected, "Well, almost all."

"What do you mean 'almost'?"

"I remember who I was a couple o' days ago. And who I was a year ago and for the hundred plus years before that," he explained as he stared without focus across the room. "I even remember who I was before becomin' a vampire." Then he looked at Lorne, bewildered. "But I dunno how I got to be who I am — or I guess I should say 'what' I am. How am I alive? Human again?"

***

"So you've got things all set up here?" Buffy asked Willow as they waited for Dawn to collect the rest of her stuff.

"Yep. The Coven's going to put all their energies into tracking the unknown Slayers. And we've also contacted a couple of other groups to see if they'll help us," Willow explained. "I don't know if we'll find all the Slayers, but we should be able to get most."

"We have to try, Will."

From outside, the taxi beeped its horn.

"Dawn," her sister called up the stairs. "Cab's here. Let's go!"

***

"So it would seem that you are — or rather you were — the prophesied vampire with a soul," explained Wesley, glancing from Spike to the large Wolfram and Hart prophecy tome.

"Lemme get this straight," said Spike with disbelief, "I saved the world wearin' that trinket."

Wes pursed his lips, raised his brow and gave a conciliatory nod.

"And because some book-"

"Ancient scroll actually. This is only a copy," Wesley clarified.

"Fine, scroll then," Spike conceded. "Because some scroll talks about a vampire with a soul fighting apocalyptic battles and fiends and whatnot then becoming human, you figure that's what's happened to me?"

"Shanshu: it was your destiny," the other man declared.

"Destiny, eh?" Baffled by the knowledge, Spike turned and plopped himself down on the edge of the desk. "So tell me, if you lot have known about this Shanshu bit for what? Three? Four years? Why is it I'm just hearin' about it now?"

Gunn jumped in, "We thought it was about-"

"Angel," Spike exclaimed with a roll of both his eyes and his head as he climbed off the desk and threw his arms in the air. "Well of course everybody'd assume it was about him. Self-less do-gooder that he-"

"We had no idea," Wesley said defensively, "that you had a soul until after... well, after you'd apparently died in the collapse of the Hellmouth. It never even occurred-"

"Hey, I just had a thought," Fred gleefully interrupted. "What if the Powers that Be had a hand in this all along?"

The others looked to the woman for clarification.

Including Spike. "The Powers that what now?"

"Think about it," she said, being too wrapped up in her own train of thought to notice the man's question. "What if they gave the gypsies the idea of cursing Angel with a soul so that years down the road it would give Spike the idea that a vampire could actually have one?"

That seemed about as plausible to Spike as anything he'd heard that day.

"And what if they brought Buffy and Angel together so that Buffy would see that vampires can be more than just evil bloodsuckers?"

When she found out he couldn't harm people, Buffy had pretty much stopped trying to stake Spike. She'd eventually even come to depend on him. Spike shook his head so wanting to deny the possibility that Angel had anything positive to do with his relationship with Buffy, but he couldn't help seeing the logic in Fred's thinking.

"And what if they had it so the curse was unstable in order to keep Buffy and Angel apart so that she and Spike could get together?"

Now hearing that bit didn't please Spike, so he frowned, pouting. He'd have preferred to think that it was his charm, good-looks or charisma that attracted Buffy to him.

Then looking at the former vampire, Fred added with a bright smile, almost swooning at the romantic notion, "And Spike did go out and get a soul 'cause he loved her."

Spike unconsciously grimaced and grabbed at his chest. If only his reasons for seeking a soul had been as simple or as noble as that. But his soul had made a difference to Buffy personally and, in the end, professionally regardless of his motivation for getting it.

"And for whatever reason," remarked Wesley, "Buffy did choose Spike to wear the amulet."

"Now you see, that's the part I haven't quite figured out," Fred admitted. "Angel gave the amulet to Buffy, but where'd he get it? And if it was supposed to be worn by a vampire with a soul, why didn't he wear it himself?"

Leaning back in his chair and raising his hand to his chin, Wes sighed thoughtfully. "While I can only speculate as to the reasons why Angel wasn't the one to wear it, I have been able to establish that he got the amulet here, at Wolfram and Hart."

The others' mouths gaped in astonishment.

"Needless to say," added Wesley, "the Firm's motives weren't... entirely altruistic."

"What d' ya mean?" asked Spike, dreading the possibilities.

Seeing the other man's apprehension, Wes assured, "Not to worry. They don't want anything more from you. They just wanted to ensure that the Sunnydale Apocalypse didn't interfere with the one they've planned."

"Oh." Spike wasn't sure why no one else in the room seemed bothered by the fact that they worked for an evil law firm which was apparently planning to destroy the world, but figured if they weren't concerned, he'd try not to be either.

"In any event... Ultimately the combination of these factors — and I dare say countless others — brought you to your destiny," concluded Wesley.

"So that's it then?" Spike asked apathetically. "I've achieved my big destiny, got my reward and I'm done?"

***

"There's got to be a way," Giles muttered as he scanned the spines of books in the Council's tiny resource room.

As the Council Head reached for a text, there was a knock on the open-door coupled with a "Mr. Giles?" which caused the up-tight man to jump.

"What is it, Andrew?" he demanded, without turning to look toward the door.

"Um... Mail's here," his young assistant replied nervously. "There's ah... an envelope labeled 'Personal and Confidential' that I thought you'd want to look at right away."

A devilish gleam came to Giles' eye at the news. "Thank you, Andrew. That'll be all."

***

His destiny? Had it all really been prophesied? When they'd first met, Drusilla had implied that he had yet to achieve his true potential. He was meant to be something — something great. Had she seen this then? Over a century later, after they'd left Sunnydale, she told Spike he tasted of ashes. Was there a connection? Did she somehow know that he'd end his vampire existence burning from inside? Giving his life to save the world? To save the woman he loved?

"Buffy..." he whispered, his chest aching as he stared across the Hyperion courtyard.

"Spike? Could I have a word?" Wesley asked.

Spike ran a quick hand through his hair hoping to clear his head, as he pushed off the pillar against which he'd been leaning. "Sure. What's up, mate?"

"I wanted to talk to you about... Buffy."

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