Alpha and Omega

This just randomly popped into my head, I hope you enjoy it’s really a stand alone piece but I may do more with it...

“What do you want Spike?” Walking into his office to find Spike sitting at his desk was the last thing that Angel needed right now. It had been a long day, they’d had to tell Fred’s parents that their daughter was dead and they’d held a funeral for Fred that day as well complete with an empty casket. Then came the task of trying to talk some sense into Wesley, trying to explain to him that Ilyria was not Fred and that helping Ilyria would not be bringing Fred back.

“I leaving.” Spike states evicting Angel’s chair, “I through here in LA, being here made me realize that there’s not always tomorrow to wait on love.”

Angel takes a deep calming breath how many times a day did he wish that he’s known that before? Before he lost Cordelia. “So where are you going?”

The look Spike gives Angel is one that speaks more words between the two than had ever been exchanged before and Angel doesn’t actually need Spike to respond. “I won’t be coming back.” Spike promises.

“All right.” Angel nods not knowing what else to say but once the much younger vampire has reached the door Angel has to call out to stop him.

“What is it Peaches?” Spike asks his hand still resting on the doorknob.

“Take care of her, all right?” Angel requests, his tone sounding less like the jealous ex-boyfriend and more like a caring friend then Spike had ever heard him use.

“I plan on it.” Spike replies, “I do love her.”

Angel nods, “I know you do. Maybe better than I ever could.”

Spike adjusted himself in the aisle seat of the commercial airplane, when he had said good-bye to everyone Wesley had suggested that he take one of the Wolfram and Hart planes but Spike had denied it and he could almost hear Fred telling him that it was a dumb idea. That he was racing the sunlight and if he didn’t make it he wouldn’t be with Buffy, and maybe subconsciously he was afraid to confront Buffy after two months short of a year letting her believe that he was dead. That was, after all, supposing that Andrew hadn’t opened his mouth and squealed. Spike leans back in the seat preparing himself for the long coming flight to Rome.

The sports car’s wheels squeal as Angel’s takes the turn sharply out of Wolfram and Hart and heads toward the freeway that led to the cemetery Cordelia was buried in. He hadn’t been there, he had insisted that Cordelia be buried in the sunlight so he had been unable to attend the funereal, this was something that had angered Fred. She’d gone off on him about how he couldn’t just pretend Cordelia was still in a coma and would wake up any day and the only way he could face the fact that she was dead. Fred had looked shocked that those words had come out of her mouth the instant she had said them and had fled the room and Angel hadn’t seen her until after the funereal. Maybe Fred was right, maybe Angel had been denying Cordy’s death by not facing up to it.

Spike had to wait until night fell again when he stepped off of the plane and by the time it finally fell he had gone back and forth a dozen times over whether or not to just board a plane and take off to anywhere else in the world. But by the time the sun fell Spike had decided, again, that he was going to confront her, confront Buffy for what may be the last time. And now he stood at the gate leading up to the cute little house Buffy was sharing with Dawn laying his hand on the metal latch Spike takes an unnecessary breath.

So here he was, for the first time in the month since Cordelia had died. He was about to confront the two things he had never been able to confront before his love for Cordelia Chase and her death as well. She had completed him, something he never realized until she was gone and now was his time to complete their relationship, by saying good-bye. He almost couldn’t do it, Angel told himself that he could come back and say his good-byes, pay his respects, later but something was driving him to do this to make peace. Angel let’s out the air he had been holding in his breath and sets fingers down on the plastic door handle.

Letting the metal door swing open with a clatter Spike swiftly walks up the cobble stone path and straight up to the door before a second thought he lifts his hand to the wood and knocks sharply.

Slamming the car door shut hard enough to hear the window rattle Angel walks past the archways decorated with flowers Cordelia would have appreciated and once he is past the archway his feet connect with the soft grass that spans across the acres of the cemetery. He need to ask for directions to where the grave sight is, he’d been the one to pick it after many nights of patrolling at this cemetery in particular and he finds the headstone easily.

The door swings open letting a blast of warm air out of the house and suddenly the petite blonde Spike has come to see his standing in front of him, “hello Buffy...”

Angel drops to his knees the wet grass soaking through his suit pants and gently Angel places his hand on the cold headstone, “hey Cordy...”

Title Page
Author's Page