Epilogue
New York City, New York (three months later)
Alex Harris stepped off the bus and into the sweltering heat of the city in summer time. With curious brown eyes, he surveyed his surroundings, smiling to himself. It had been three months since he had woken up confused, and with no memory of his life before that day. The pretty redhead that had been there in that barn had told him that she had found him outside, passed out from the heat. He had no idea what he had been doing in the desert, or why he was walking in it. She had told him that he had said his name was Alex Harris, and even though all his ID was gone, he decided to take her at her word. He couldn’t say why, but he felt that he could trust her. She had offered him the use of the truck sitting outside, to get him as far as the bus station, and had even given him some money. He had thanked her, not really wanting to leave the sad looking woman alone, but she had said that she was waiting for somebody. Then, she had done something really strange. She hugged him. Him, a total stranger, and told him to take care of himself, her green eyes shiny and wet. He had nodded, surprised, and touched.
Then he had turned from her, and left, taking the old junker into town, following the instructions she had given him, and leaving it in the bus station parking lot. He had then purchased a ticket, traveling everywhere, and taking odd jobs to fund his explorations, desperate to try to figure out who he was. Then, about a week ago, he just woke up and decided it didn’t matter. He somehow felt that he had a new lease on life, and really didn’t want to know who he was before. Something told him he wouldn’t really like himself.
So, that’s when he decided to head to New York. Get lost in the Big City and recreate himself. With the help of a man he met traveling, he secured a new ID, and even a social security number, then took the next bus headed east. Now, here he was, and he felt a strange sense of peace and freedom overcoming him. With a smile, he picked up his bag, and started down the street, quickly getting swallowed by the throngs of people going about their daily business.
Sunnydale, Ca
“Coming!” Joyce called, wiping her hands on a dish towel to dry them. It had been a week since Willow had called her, telling her she was coming home with some exciting news, so Joyce prepared herself to be faced with the redhead, and the man that had so enraptured her attention. Giles was at the library, helping Faith train, so she would have to play hostess by herself until he got home.
“Goodness Will. . .” The name died on her lips when she looked into the hazel eyes of her daughter. “Buffy,” she gasped, afraid that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Anne stood nervously on the stoop, fingers twisting the simple gold band on her finger.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, her voice quiet as she looked up at her mother. They stood, staring numbly at each other, for what seemed like an eternity. Then, it seemed like time just melted away, and Joyce was holding her daughter in her arms, tears of joy streaming down their faces.
“Daddy?” Matt asked, twisting in his spot in the front seat to look at Spike, who was casually smoking a cigarette while he watched the reunion at the door.
“Yeah, bit?”
“Why do ladies cry if they’re happy?” Spike snorted at the question, wondering how he was to explain one of the mysteries of life.
“Dunno, really. Guess they’re just made that way,” was all he could come up with. “Let’s go meet your grandmum,” he said, when Anne turned to wave at them. Matt scrambled out of the car after his father, taking his hand as they walked up to the women waiting at the door. Joyce looked down at them, her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes drinking in the little boy in front of her.
“Say hello, poppet,” Spike whispered. Matt looked up at the woman and smiled.
“Hello, gramma,” he said brightly, letting go of his father to move closer to the woman he had only seen in pictures. She kneeled down to his level, tears still streaming down her face.
“Hello, Matthew. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.” She tentatively held open her arms, inviting the child into them. He tilted his head up to look at his parents, Spike having moved up to take position behind Anne. They both nodded, large smiles on both of their faces. Turning back to Joyce, he smiled again, and stepped into her waiting arms. She had to force herself not to scoop him up and smother him with all the years of saved up grandmotherly love. Closing her eyes, she relished the feel of her grandson for the first time.
Anne watched the scene before her, reaching up to link her fingers with Spike’s. He had been right, she decided, to push her to bring him here. She really couldn’t say what had kept her away so long.
“Tell me something,” Joyce said, reluctantly letting Matt go. “Do you like hot chocolate?” Matt eagerly shook his head. “Well, I just happen to have some in the kitchen, and I think it has your name on it,” She finished, standing and holding her hand out. He took it, and followed her into the house.
“You got any of those little marshmallows?” Spike asked as he closed the door behind them.
The End.