Chapter 11 – Reasons To Be Concerned


Sunnydale, 2000


A couple days passed, and Buffy and Spike avoided talking about the night she kissed him. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and she didn’t think she was ready to admit that maybe she had underlying feelings for him.

Buffy left her house to go patrolling and was surprised that her mother wasn’t home from the gallery yet but shrugged it off, remembering that Joyce had mentioned putting in a couple of hours extra at work that week to make up for taking time off while Dawn was missing.

Buffy headed into the downtown area of Sunnydale and began walking around aimlessly, not really focusing on her surroundings but paying attention to the teenaged couples she saw and halfheartedly wishing she had someone in her life again to fill the void that Riley had left.

She sat down on a bench outside of the Espresso Pump and sighed, watching people walk past her and cars drive by.

“What’s got you so down, pet?” a familiar voice asked from beside her.

She looked up to see Spike standing there, looking concerned.

“I’m fine,” she answered, waving it off dismissively.

“Doesn’t look like you’re fine,” he replied, sitting beside her. “Shouldn’t you be off staking some of my pals?”

“I don’t feel like it,” she answered. “My heart hasn’t been in the slaying game lately.”

“I’ve noticed,” he said. “You’ve stopped saying your weird quips whenever you’re about to kill something.”

She smiled slightly and looked down. “I guess I haven’t come up with any good ones since Dawn…” She took a deep breath as she trailed off. “So, what’re you doing here?”

“Felt like getting some coffee,” he lied, smirking when she raised an eyebrow. “Saw you come here and wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I see,” she replied, amused. “You followed me here and have been watching me, haven’t you?”

“Exactly,” he said. “And you’ve looked a bit down. Not that I blame you – I can understand why you’re not overjoyed with life - but the longing look on your face whenever you see couples walking around makes me wonder what’s on your mind.”

“I feel alone,” she murmured, focusing on a storefront across the street. “I know I’ve got my mom around, my friends, Giles… and even you, but I feel completely alone.”

“You’re never alone, luv,” he said. “Even when you’re by yourself, you’re not alone. There’s always at least one person who’s there for you – that won’t ever change.”

“I know,” she replied. “I just don’t feel like it’s true right now.”

“Come on, let’s do something productive,” he said, standing up. “It’s not good for you to sit around and be so glum.”

“What do you have in mind?” she asked, getting up.

“Feel like some ice cream?” he asked. “I know how much you like it.”

“You eat ice cream?” she asked, smiling.

“No, but you do, so I’ll go with you to get some,” he offered.

“Thanks, Spike,” she replied, walking beside him down the street as they headed to the local ice cream parlor.

~~~~~~~~~~


London, 1881


“William, we have received a letter from Darla,” Drusilla announced as she walked into their small apartment in the heart of the city.

“We have?” he asked, his expression instantly brightening.

Drusilla frowned, noticing the immediate change in him. He had been depressed since Tessa left and had been worried about her, writing to Angelus and Darla at the address they had given him months before but never hearing any word in reply.

Drusilla handed it to him, letting him open it as she sat down next to him. “Read it to me.”

He quickly tore off the top of the envelope, taking out the letter and beginning to read it.

“Dearest Drusilla and William,” he began, clearing his throat. “I am sorry to inform you of such awful news through a letter such as this, but it is with great regret that I must tell you that Tessa is no longer with us.” He paused, grasping the paper tighter. “She went off to feed on her own and never returned. When Angelus and I went off in search of her, we were directed to a building where she had last been seen. After searching the place without any luck, we came upon a pile of ashes. We have come to believe that Tessa was staked, but we cannot be sure.”

“Oh, William,” Drusilla said, pretending to be sad to hear the news.

He handed her the letter, standing up as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

“It will be okay, my love,” she replied, watching him walk into their bedroom.

“I failed her,” he murmured as he closed the door behind him, crying more as he lay down on the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~


Sunnydale, 2000


On the other side of town from where Buffy and Spike were, Joyce exited the gallery and locked the entrance doors, oblivious to the young girl who was approaching her, tears rolling down her cheeks. As soon as Joyce heard sniffling behind her, she turned around and saw the girl, frowning at her obviously distraught expression.

“What’s wrong?” Joyce asked, going into concerned-mom mode.

“I can’t find my parents,” the girl replied, crying harder. “I think I’m lost.”

Joyce crouched down and said in a comforting tone, “We’ll find your parents, sweetheart. What do they look like?”

“My mom looks a lot like you,” she said, focusing on the pulse point on Joyce’s neck before pretending to hug Joyce for comfort while sinking her fangs into the older women’s soft skin, putting her hand over her mouth as Joyce tried to scream.

Tessa continued to drink from Joyce until she fell out of consciousness before she motioned to one of her minions, who was hiding a few feet away in the shadows.

“Carry her to the house,” Tessa said sternly, wiping off the corners of her mouth.

“Where are you going to go?” the minion asked.

“I have some things I need to look into,” she replied, beginning to walk away.

~~~~~~~~~~


Outside of Amsterdam, 1883


“Tessa, shall we write William and Drusilla a letter?” Darla asked as she walked into Tessa’s bedroom in the abandoned home they were sharing with Angelus. “We have not written to them in a couple of weeks.”

“You can,” Tessa answered, frowning. “You will not write anything I want you to.”

“That is because they do not wish to hear about many of the things you want to tell them,” Darla replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Or shall we go out feeding?”

“I will stay here,” Tessa said, looking out a window at the night sky.

“Are you feeling alright?” Darla asked, faking concern.

“I am fine,” Tessa answered. “Enjoy the hunt.”

“Always do,” Darla said, getting up and walking out of the room.

Tessa waited until she heard the front door close before leaving her room and going into Darla and Angelus’ bedroom, instantly going to a part of the floor where she had noticed a loose floorboard days before.

She kneeled down and moved the board, poking around in the hole she had unearthed and feeling something wooden under her fingertips. She managed to extract a wooden box and brought it out, recognizing it as belonging to Darla.

She ran her hand over the smooth surface before opening it and tensing in place, seeing the stack of envelopes in there that were all addressed to William and Drusilla.

“What?” Tessa asked, stunned. “She kept all of the letters?” She stared at them as she felt tears in her eyes, clouding her vision. “She lied to me.”

She stood up and walked to the fireplace in the parlor of the house, throwing the letters into the flames and watching them burn up, clenching her fists as thoughts raced through her mind.

“William doesn’t know where I am, does he?” she asked. “They’ve both been lying to me.”

She stormed off to her room and began gathering her belongings, shoving them into a bag before leaving the house, hoping she wouldn’t come across either Angelus or Darla as she headed for the nearby town.

After she arrived in the city, she met with a man who would help her leave Amsterdam.

“Where are you planning on going?” the man asked curiously as Tessa handed him a small amount of money for his help.

“London,” she answered. “I have some family members I need to see.”

~~~~~~~~~~


Sunnydale, 2000


Spike walked Buffy home, and both felt the awkward tension between them as she opened the front door of her house.

“So, I guess I should go in,” she said, looking at him.

“Yeah, you probably should,” he replied. “Goodnight, Buffy.”

“Goodnight, Spike,” she said, hesitating for a moment before kissing his cheek. “Thank you for taking me to get ice cream.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, smirking as she went into the house.

He began to walk away, frowning when he caught a familiar scent, one that he had come across recently a couple of times but couldn’t figure out who it belonged to.

When he had a thought of who it could be from, he shook his head, nearly laughing at himself for thinking it.

“It’s not her,” he said. “She’s been gone for over a century, mate. It couldn’t be her.”

He kept walking, remembering how Buffy’s lips had felt on his skin, pushing thoughts aside of the girl from his past that had flooded his mind for a moment.

Meanwhile, Buffy walked around her house, becoming worried when she didn’t see any signs that her mother was home.

“Mom?” she called out, looking outside at the driveway and not seeing Joyce’s Jeep before wondering if perhaps she had parked in their garage. “Mom?”

After not getting a response, she went upstairs to check her mother’s bedroom, and when she realized that Joyce hadn’t come home that night, she quickly left the house and ran to the gallery.