The Letter 1/1
By Heather Martin
Rated – PG
Spoilers- Not Fade Away
Summary- Buffy gets a letter from LA
There was no return name or address on the letter. The Wolfram and Hart logo appeared in the left hand corner clearly, so she assumed it was from Angel. She didn't open it at first. She was still getting over the whole Dana thing. Yeah, she had heard about that, in great detail too. How dare he try to keep a slayer from where she belonged? Like she could get any help in a hell infested law firm.
Buffy tossed the envelope on the table. She eyed it contemplatively. Her fingers itched to snatch it back up. Her heart told her that there had to be a reason why Angel would write to her. He could be in trouble. But why not call? The phone was a quicker way to get a message to someone.
She ran her hands through her shoulder-length hair. Just open it, she thought. Opening a piece of mail sent by W&H doesn't mean you are endorsing them.
Taking up the envelope, she rapidly tore it open. The actual letter was on standard lined paper. The words were scrawled elegantly with blue ink. The first sentence made her drop the letter.
She gaped. No, it couldn't be. Someone was playing a cruel trick.
She stood frozen for a long time. It was hard to get her breathing under control and her heart hammered harshly in her chest. Against her will she picked the note back up. She fell against the wall, sliding down to the floor. Tears streamed down her face. They slid off her cheeks and landed on the paper, making wet blots.
Hey, pet. I won't blame you if you rip this up after reading it. Get ready to hate me. I've been alive for months now. Hell, maybe you already hate me. That boy Andrew never was one to keep his mouth shut.
Buffy's hand shook. Andrew!
Why didn't I contact you sooner? Funny story that. You see, I spun out of the soddin necklace like a tornado right into Angel's office. First thing I thought of was you. I would have went to hell and back to see you again. But I turned out to be a ghosty. Couldn't touch a bloody thing. Then when I got all corporeal again it all hit me and I got scared. Yeah, the big bad got scared. Not ashamed either. When I went dust in the wind I was a true hero. I've done too many bad things to you, Buffy, and far too few good. I didn't want to bollucks your life up. I died for you, so you could live long and happily. I knew that if I ran off to find you I'd do something stupid eventually. Then my sacrifice would mean nothing.
Buffy's hold on the letter tightened. Her eyes raced to the next paragraph.
The grand poof has this idea to save the world. You know me, couldn't pass up the invitation to be a part of it. He gave us all one good day to do whatever we wanted. What'd I do? Went to some bar. Got drunk right and proper. You probably are thinking that was a waste. You're right. I regret it now. I'm selfish, always have been. I don't really care about your normal life. I don't care about the bloody Immortal.
How'd he know about that? Buffy questioned. She pushed the inquiry aside and kept reading.
I'm love's bitch. I can't fight it as hard as I try. I should have called you. But then you'd have come. This is not your fight, love. There're a few minutes before we march out to face the cavalry. So I'm writing this letter. So you know it's all about you. It's always been all about you.
I'm not going to fool myself. I probably won't come back from this. You give me strength, and I'll use it. So there is a chance. And if I do walk away, I'll seek you out. I'm not holding any insane notions that we'll actually get together or any of that rot. But I can't be away from you. You are as vital to me as blood itself.
If I don't survive, please don't mourn me. I've been gone to you for quite sometime. You've moved on. Despite how undeserving the Immortal is of you, I wish you the best of luck.
Buffy scanned the letter. There was no date. The battle could have taken place yesterday or a week. Or . . . it could still be going on.
She scrambled to her feet. She went to the phone and quickly punched in the number for the airport. She booked a ticket for the first flight into the US. She cursed the fact that Las Angeles was on the other side of the country.
Then she walked into her room and began to pack a suitcase. Buffy didn't take time to think about what she crumpled into it. It didn't matter. She carried the suitcase out into the kitchen.
It was hard for her to think straight. But her brain did sort out that she should tell Dawn where she was going. She rummaged around for a sticky-pad.
Just then the doorbell rang.
Not now, she silently cried. I don't have time for visitors.
Buffy went to the door. She opened it. A sob tore from her. She crumpled to the ground.
He would have caught her. It broke him to see her fall, but the barrier kept him from doing anything. Buffy shook. She didn't look at him, just kept crying. He got down on his knees to her level.
Her head shot up. Her green eyes went wide.
She shut her eyes. "Spike," she choked.
"It's me, luv."
"Are you real?"
He chuckled. "Think so. Why don't you let me inside and you can see for yourself?"
"Please, come in," she managed to get out.
With that, Spike had her in his arms. She clung to him.
"I-I got your letter," she mumbled.
Smoothing her hair, he said, "Mail's slow."
Just a little something I wrote on the spur of the moment. Hope you enjoyed.