Lost and Found

Rated- PG13 (there might be some NC17 parts posted separately)

Spoilers- Buffy: Chosen, Angel: Soul Purpose

Summary- I’m fixing everything Joss messed up. How? With a spell, a ghost, some visions, an awakening, and a revised prophecy. Still don't know what this is about? Well, then read it and find out. B/S, A/X, A/C, D/C, and maybe F/W (that’s Faith and Wes. What do you think?)

Disclaimer- I don’t own Buffy or Angel. If I did I wouldn’t have to write this story

Warning- There is bad language in this part.

Somehow Lindsey made it back to his apartment. In a daze, he entered his darkened home. He found Eve waiting for him on the bed. She immediately got up to meet him.

“How’d it go, ’Doyle’?” she asked, putting her arms around him.

Her touch made him shiver, and not in a turned on way. He disbanded her.

“It went well,” he lied.

“What should we set lose next time? Maybe a Palara.”

The girl in the vision flashed through his brain. He shut his eyes and turned away. She was fresh in his mind. Innocent, young, and unaware of the lurking evil. Then the demon attacked. He had tasted her fear. She didn’t want to die. She had a lot of things she wanted to do in life. She was engaged to be married.

“Hey, are you all right?”

Eve’s voice hit him like ice.

“You should go, Eve,” Lindsey told her.

She didn’t answer at first. She placed a hand on his shoulder, but quickly removed it.

“Sure,” she said. “Get some rest. I think you need it. We’ll meet tomorrow to discus Spike’s next mission.”

He didn’t respond. He listened to her retreat before opening his eyes. All he saw was the shadows looming around him. Maybe Eve was right. Sleep sounded good.

Lindsey shed his clothing and got into bed. Before drifting off he made a decision. So what if the powers wanted to get back at him with a few real visions? That didn’t mean anything. He would simply ignore them. It took a lot more than that to make him moral and a dignified citizen. There were too many people to worry about. Why even bother? He only had one priority and that was himself.

He would get back at Wolfram and Hart. Angel being the head boss was just a bonus.

**********************

It sucked being a ghost. Her new status was boring and very frustrating. Anya was a material girl and she couldn’t even touch anything.

She watched the cashier deal out two twenties to a middle-aged customer. A sigh escaped her. She remembered the feel of the bills in her hands. The texture, the smell. . . Oh how she missed it.

Anya knew that loitering in a Wal-Mart could lead to nothing good. It brought up too many nostalgic memories of retail.

“Get out!” a malicious voice shouted.

Anya glanced around. Her eyes landed on a man, maybe in his thirties. He was staring straight at her. She gaped, awed. Someone could see her!

“Hey, you can see me!?” she exclaimed.

“Of course I can see you. Now get out,” he demanded.

“But why?”

“This is my haunt. Now get out.”

Disappointment came over her. He was a ghost too. It hit her like a knife.

“You’re the ghost of Wal-Mart?” The thought of it was absurd.

“Yes, and this place isn’t big enough for the two of us. Go find your own place to haunt.”

“Where do you suggest?” Anya asked. “I’m very familiar with the demon hang-outs, but I don’t know much about ghost dwellings.”

The other ghost shrugged. “I don’t know. Why don’t you go to where you died? Lots of spirits haunt their burial ground,” he offered.

Anya shook her head. “I died in Sunnydale. It’s a big crater now. That’s why I left.”

The ghost smiled. “Sucks to be you then.” He began to walk away.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to help me!?”

He didn’t answer. She watched as he passed the women’s clothing section. He reached out and knocked down a few blue sweaters. Her eyes bugged out.

“How’d you do that!?” she shouted.

He continued to walk away. “Hey! Hey!”

He never turned back. Anya left the Wal-Mart in defeat.

Come on, Ahn, think. You can get yourself out of this mess. There has to be someone who can help you. Too bad she had no idea where the gang went. She might have been able to make a connection with Willow. Maybe she could find a psychic.

There just had to be somebody living she could make contact with. . . Or even the undead.

**********************

Damnit, Faith was not going to cry. Robin had been good for a screw . . . She thought for a moment. Okay, fifteen screws. But now it was over.

He’d decided to accept that school principal offer in New York. He said Cleveland wasn’t for him. Faith couldn’t abandon her post. The new slayers needed her. So it was over.

It was all right. Faith wasn’t emotionally involved. She never got emotionally involved. It was just a good time. When you got emotionally involved . . .

Fuck, she was crying.

This was why she had agreed not to feel beyond the physical sense with men. They were unreliable. They left.

Poor B. That girl had a lousy piece of luck. She had found the one male in all the galaxy who would stay, and he had to up and die on her. Fucking unfair, that’s what it was.

She needed to get her mind off stuff. Work. Work helped. Maybe there was some slayer who needed help with a move. She’d ask Giles for something to do, but Mr. Bookworm would most likely give her something involving research. That notion made her shutter. No thank-you.

The dark-haired slayer exited her room. She hoped she looked okay. She had made sure to splash water in her eyes before going public. She hadn’t paid attention to her hair and clothing, though. She glanced down at herself. Tight black pants and shirt. Okay, that passed inspection. She ran a hand through her hair. A few tangles, but not bad.

The school was unusually quiet. Normally it was echoing with teenage laughter. Did someone take them on a field-trip?

Faith glanced at her watch. What? It was two in the morning already? Shit, everyone was asleep. That’s just great.

Okay, if there was nothing to do here she’d just go out. The cemetery must be crawling with vamps. Hopefully.

She was making her way to the main doors when she spotted movement. As she neared, the figure came into focus.

“B? Is that you?”

“Faith?”

“That’s me. What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t due until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Was. We got here a tad bit sooner. Dawn and Thea, the new slayer, are at the hotel. I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come check out the council/slayer boarding school digs. Figured someone would be awake.”

Faith smiled. “I am. Though, I think most aren’t. God, B, it’s good to see you.”

The other slayer offered a forced smile. “How ya doing?”

“You know, five-by-five,” Faith lied. “You?”

“Five-by-five,” Buffy said.

They stared each other in the eye, not fooling each other.

“Want a tour?” Faith offered.

“That’d be great.”

The ex-rogue led Buffy through the large building. She indicated the bathroom and water fountain. They came to a room. Faith opened the door.

“This is the magic room,” she informed.

Buffy peeked her head in. She couldn’t help the amazement that filled her. “Wow,” she murmured.

The room was filled with a circle of desks. In the middle was a rug displaying the pentagram symbol. There were bookcases with spell books. A blackboard was at the head of the room, with names of pagan gods. Buffy also noticed a few posters. She read one by the door that showed the phases of the moon.

“So, Willow is teaching slayers to be witches?” Buffy asked. “That’s a little -Well, strange.”

“Not really,” Faith told her. She shut the door as Buffy stepped back. “She teaches witches who want to aid slayers. Although, I admit there are a couple slayers who signed up for the class.”

They continued down the hall. Another door came into sight. Room 33, Professor Harris.

“What does Xander teach? Last time I heard he was undecided.”

“It was Willow who gave him the idea. He’s a consultant for the civilians who know slayers. He helps the people who don’t have special powers yet still want to help.”

“Very fitting.”

Faith’s mouth tugged up. “Isn’t it?”

Moving on, Buffy frowned. “I sort of feel guilty,” she admitted.

“What for?” Faith questioned, confused.

“For not helping. I’m living in Rome, creating my normal little life, while you guys are all still following the noble path. I came across Thea by accident.”

Faith stopped. She spun. Her eyes were harsh.

“Fuck, Buffy,” Faith growled. “If anyone deserves that normal life it’s you. You’ve done enough.”

“Have I?”

“God, how many apocalypses have you ended? Six? Get over the guilt-trip. Now me . . .” Faith pointed to herself. “I’ve far from done enough.”

They stood there in silence for a moment. Then they went on. Buffy saw the cafeteria and indoor track.

Faith gestured to a door. “That’s Andrew’s room.”

Andrew, Watcher Initiation.

“Oh, God, it’s true,” Buffy commented. She laughed.

“I was skeptical too,” Faith said. “But it really isn’t a hard job. All he does is interview watcher candidates. He checks their background history and gives them a test.”

Buffy continued to laugh. “I guess everyone can do something useful.”

They came to the work-out center. “Major cool,” Buffy said.

It was. There was a balance beam, a horse, a vampire dummy, a few punching bags, and a massive amount of free space.

“Wanna try it out?” Faith asked.

Buffy jumped at the chance. “Think you can take me?”

Faith gave her a wicked smirk. “I don’t see a fancy knife with you this time round.”

The two slayers went into the training area. They faced off, going into attack mode.

Faith acted first. She threw a few punches, which Buffy was ready for. The blonde skillfully blocked them. Buffy kicked, but Faith jumped over her leg.

They continued on. Barely any fists or feet made contact, but they were able to let out their aggravation. Eventually they both collapsed on the mats, exhausted.

“You’ve gotten better,” Buffy complimented.

“Thanks,” Faith replied.

“Still couldn’t take me in a real fight.”

Faith chuckled. “I dunno, depended on when I decided to spring.”

Buffy tilted her head to look at her. “Whatever.”

Faith grinned. “I’m pretty sure there were times when your legs didn’t even work right. I bet Spike could dish it out all night. Am I right?”

Abruptly, Buffy got to her feet.

“Hey, B . . . “ Faith realized her mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .”

“No, I’m ok. You can say his name.”

“Still, B . . .”

“I said I’m ok, all right,” Buffy said without feeling. “Thanks for the spar, Faith. I think I’ll head back to the hotel now. Catch ya later.”

Faith relaxed, prone on the mat, and stared up at the rafters. If it wasn’t for the frequent times that she got horny as hell, and even her hand couldn’t satisfy her, she’d do away with men altogether. They were nothing but trouble. Even when they were dead.

_______________________________________________

I’m trying to bring the Spuffy as fast as I can, but it is going to be a few more chapters. I know how frustrating it is. The wait is worth it, though. Trust me.