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anxiety_junkie
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Fic: The Untimely Demise of Miss Edith (1/?)

Title: The Untimely Demise of Miss Edith (1/?)
Rating: PG for now
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, et cetera ad nauseum.
Spoilers: This goes AU after the 1st comic of S8; the Scoobies are in Scotland but I didn't want to have to deal with any of the new issues or the upcoming Angel S6. Oh, and Xander has no interest in a certain young Slayer, btw. *g*
Notes: My first multi-chapter Spander. Unbeta'd, because my regular beta went to Sinfinity this weekend, and I'm an impatient feedback whore so let me know if something jumps out at you, ok? Feedback is life.


Spike - I couldn’t work up the guts to pick up the phone, so I did this instead. Which was probably an even worse idea than calling, but that’s no real surprise, is it? By now you probably know about Drusilla. Giles told me there was a good chance both you and Dea Angel knew immediately when it happened.
I'm so sorry. I wish I hadn't done it, but I didn’t have a choice. She was on our 'don't kill unless absolutely necessary' list, did you know that? You and Angel are on that list, so is Clem. If you've got anyone else to add to that list let us know.
Sorry, tangent. We knew she was in the area, we'd heard rumors from our contacts in the local demon community that she was around. We told all the girls that she was not to be dusted unless it was a matter of life or death. Turns out it was. I'm so so sorry, you have no idea how sorry I am. I know we were never friends and I know a lot of that was my fault but I hope someday you can forgive me. Xander.



"Well, the babble hasn't changed, anyway," Spike muttered, tossing the letter on the table in front of him.

"Does he say what happened?" Angel asked. He was standing at the office's one window, forehead resting on the necrotempered glass.

"Not a word. 'Course his handwriting is so bad I probably couldn't read it if he did." Spike sighed and rubbed at his face. God, he was tired. "Hell, I'm surprised he did this much. Never thought I'd see the day when I'd get an apology from a Scooby, 'specially him."

"I guess he's been beatin' himself up for this pretty bad," Faith said from her seat on top of Angel's desk. She hadn't moved from there since first walking into the office with a hug for Angel and a letter for Spike. "Willow said he hadn't slept for two days when he wrote that. Oh, and I'm supposed to tell you that you're in a shitload of trouble for not lettin' Scoob Central know you were still kickin' it." She smirked at Spike's wince. "Said B almost pounded Giles into the floor when it got out he'd known you were non-dusty the whole time. There was a lot of yelling in the background when the witch called me, then poof an envelope shows up on my bed with plane tickets and that in it."

Spike heard Angel ask Faith another question but tuned him out, something he'd gotten fairly good at over the last year.

Drusilla was dead.

The Watcher had been right; both he and Angel had known something had happened to her, but not what. Neither of them had seen or heard from her for several years, though Spike had suspected she'd decided to go home after her last trip to the Hellmouth. It couldn't have been easy, having both her Sire and her Childe reject her in the space of a month. But not in a million years had he thought she could have been dusted, and by the likes of Harris, no less.

He sighed as the soul chided him for that thought. Harris – Xander – had improved quite a bit over that last year. A little less bouncy, a little more quiet, and that had been before the eye. He'd almost seemed like a different person those last few weeks, though he supposed losing a body part would do that to someone. The old Xander wouldn't even have bothered with an explanation, not to mention an apology. Though said explanation was sadly lacking, wasn't it?

Drusilla was dead.

"Peaches," he barked, "we got enough money for plane ticket to Scotland?"


~tbc
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