Return to Sender, Part 3 Author: Elsa Frohman Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is over, done, kaput Summary: Getting Spike back from the beyond, version 238.
There was a knock on the door. Spike tried to ignore it. Fonzie
was having a heart-to-heart with Chachi, and this was no time
to have to deal with a Jehovah's Witness.
But the knocker was persistent. He gave up and answered.
Framed in the California morning sunshine was a very slender,
no, positively skinny, young woman with long brown hair and
a large, brown paper sack with grease stains bleeding through.
She was wearing Capri pants and a top that revealed a strip of
midriff including her navel, and thong sandals.
"Hi! I'm Fred. Winifred Burkel, really. But everybody calls me
Fred. I brought tacos. They're my favorite, from a place down
on Wiltshire near 21st. I hope you like them, because they use
the right kind of cheese and the sauce is really good, and they
don't put in too much lettuce. I can't stand them if they've got
too much lettuce. That just ruins them, don't you think? Can I
come in?"
Spike was still processing the flood of words, but he stepped
back and admitted her -- it seemed inevitable.
The curtains were drawn, and the apartment was dark except
for the flickering light of the 13-inch television, one of the few
things Xander left behind.
"Oh! TVLand is having a Happy Days marathon. I forgot about
that. This is a good one. This is the one where Joanie and
Chachi sneak out to a Beach Boys concert without permission
and end up in a hotel room together, but Fonzie comes in... I
shouldn't tell you the ending, should I?"
"S'OK. Seen it before," Spike replied listlessly.
Fred looked Spike up and down.
"So how are you doing?" she asked, in a startlingly short
sentence.
"Better, I guess," Spike said, deciding that a response would be
the easiest way to go here. Fred didn't look like she was going
to accept an inarticulate grunt as an answer. "I've moved up
from lying on the couch looking at the ceiling, to watching
episode after episode of Happy Days. Not a big improvement,
mind you, but it's something."
"You could use a shower," Fred said bluntly. He was wearing a
rumpled plaid shirt and jeans -- both several sizes too large,
and clearly worn for the second or third day. He needed a
shave, and his platinum hair was hanging in limp, dull, greasy
curls.
"Sorry. Didn't know I was entertaining today."
"Do you have soap and shampoo and stuff? I could run down
to the Food Lion and get them for you -- so you don't have to
go out. I know when I first got back I just wanted to stay in my
room for weeks and weeks. They had to repaint it after."
Spike wondered what could have made repainting necessary,
but feared any question would set off days of jumbled
explanation. He decided to let it pass... but then again...
"You've been dead?"
"Oh no, when I came back from Pylea. That's where Lorne is
from. I was a cow there. Sorry, I'm not making a lot of sense,
am I? I always let my mouth get ahead of my brain. Though,
actually, I think it's that my brain gets way ahead of my mouth,
and then I start leaving out stuff to catch up. So, do you need
shampoo?"
The explanation was harder to understand than the original
question. He decided not to ask anything else.
"Um, no... Xander left some of that stuff. Excuse me."
He beat a retreat for the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, he returned, clean shaven, still toweling
his hair.
Fred was on the sofa, her shoes kicked off, her knees drawn up,
watching Fonzie try to teach his first auto shop class as she
munched on a taco.
"That's better," she said, craning her neck around to look at
him. "You need clothes, don't you?"
"Yeah..."
"If you tell me your size, I can go get you some stuff."
"Maybe I'll go out later," Spike said vaguely.
"It's OK. If you don't have any money, I have this new credit
card. Came with my new job. I can get you anything you
need."
Spike shook his head. "I suppose you're here because big,
green and chummy sent you..."
"Actually, I was there when Xander came," she said. "But
Lorne couldn't come today. He's got a new gig, and he's in
rehearsals all day and probably tonight, too. It's really good.
The Rainbow Room. He opens tomorrow night. So, I thought
you might like some tacos."
"Oh, I see... I suppose you only met Harris the once..."
"Xander seems nice. He has kind eyes and a funny smile.
Lorne says he only dates demons. Is it true he used to date
Cordy? 'Cause that's kind of funny, with her ending up part
demon and all. Though I guess there's not much about Cordy
that's funny anymore. I know Willow a little better. She's really
neat. She's gone to England with Mr. Giles, now. She doesn't
know you're back either, does she?"
"Not unless Harris spilled it."
"Oh, he didn't. He waited until she and Buffy left before he told
us. You know, maybe I could call Willow and tell her. That
wouldn't be telling Buffy, 'cause Buffy is on her way to
Cleveland. And I bet Willow'd like to know."
"No!" Spike barked.
Fred stopped talking long enough to give him a puzzled look.
"She'd be contacting Buffy before the line went dead, and
there's nothing anybody could do to stop it."
"I don't want to pry," Fred said carefully. "But why don't you
want Buffy to know?"
"That's prying," Spike said firmly.
"OK, if you don't want to talk about it..."
"I don't."
"OK." Fred covered the awkwardness by pulling a taco out of
the bag and handing it to him.
Spike took it and took a bite. "Not bad," he said with his mouth
full.
"Yeah, they're really good. My favorites. Charles always says
he can't believe how many I eat, but it seems like I can eat
anything without gaining weight. Sometimes I wish I could
gain a little, you know? You'd better have another, or I'll eat
them all."
"I am eating now," he said. "Got that message. You don't have
to send someone around with a CARE package every day. Had
a pizza delivered last night, and had some cereal this morning."
"Good. Glad to hear it. Good nutrition is the foundation of
good health. Of course, salads and green vegetables would
probably be part of that."
Fred tucked into another taco.
"So, you were in Sunnydale for a long time ..."
"Few years."
"You get to know Willow?"
"Some, I guess. We weren't really friends. Not enemies either. I
guess I tried to kill her too many times for her to really get very
chummy with me."
"But you kinda know her?"
"Yeah..."
"I was just wondering... do you have any idea why Willow
wouldn't like me?"
Spike looked at Fred in surprise. "Doesn't like you? You're
more like her than anyone I've ever met -- except I think you
could probably beat her in words per minute. Can't see why she
wouldn't like you."
"Oh, OK. I don't know... it's just that back when I first met her,
I thought we were getting along really well, then all of the
sudden she gives me this funny look and says, 'I'm seeing
somebody.' What's that supposed to mean? And when she came
by a couple of days ago, she's all emphasizing 'KENNEDY and
I are going to England.' I guess Kennedy must be her
boyfriend. But I just don't see why that would matter..."
Spike laughed and almost choked on a bit of taco. "Kennedy
isn't her boyfriend, love. Kennedy isn't a boy."
"What? You mean... Oh! You can't mean... Oh!"
"You been living in a cave?" Spike asked incredulously.
"Well, yes, actually. That's where I was when Angel found me.
You mean Willow is a lesbian? Wait, don't answer that. That's
none of my business."
"It's not a secret, ducks. She's out and been out for quite a ...
wait a minute. Did you say Angel?"
Fred nodded. "When I was in Pylea. I was trapped there. Angel
found me and brought me back here. I sort of had a crush on
him for a while, but..."
Spike stood up, glaring at the girl on the sofa.
"Bloody hell! That's what this is all about. Bloody Angel. He's
sending his minions around to look after me. The self-
righteous, soulier than thou son of a bitch. Well, I don't need
the bloody poof's charity. You can go back and tell him..."
"Now wait a minute!"
"Yeah? You're going to tell me that Angel didn't send you
here?"
Fred blinked and swallowed hard, but she stood her ground.
"No, Angel didn't send me here. Angel doesn't seem to like you
very well. Something about kidnapping and torture."
Spike backed down a notch. "Well, yeah... I did do that... but
he's whaled on me a bit from time to time. It's not like it was all
one sided."
"He didn't tell anyone to stay away. That's all. Everybody's
just, 'What should we do?' and Angel's all 'Whatever you want.
I don't want to hear about it.'"
The wind went back out of Spike's sails. He sat down again and
slumped. "Shoulda known the first thing they'd do would be to
march off to tell Angel what happened."
Fred gave him a long look. "Why don't we go shopping? We
could get you some clothes that fit. That'll probably make you
feel better. Unless you're not ready to go out, yet, that is..."