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pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
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Authors Chapter Notes:
This is a story I’ve been holding onto for months. It's not finished yet, but I wanted to post it and keep myself motivated for writing it :-) I’ve never responded to a challenge before, so I hope you like it.


Reflection of a Dream


Chapter 1 – Reflections


“I’m using you,” she murmured, taking a deep breath as he continued to stare at her. “I can’t love you. I’m just being weak and selfish…”

“Really not complaining here,” Spike said softly, taking a step toward her.

“…and it’s killing me.”

Frowning as he looked at her, he knew exactly where this was going. She was handling it a little more carefully than the others had, but the distinct feeling of his heart cracking in his chest was all too familiar. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before the desperation started to set in and the loneliness would catch up to him. Only a matter of time before he lost the only person he cared about.

“I have to be strong about this,” she said softly. “I’m sorry…William.”

He watched as she turned and walked away, knowing that she felt at peace with herself for the first time since they started their destructive relationship. Knowing that she probably considered herself to be better off without him. Knowing that she was probably right.

And his heart shattered.

* * * * *

Spike didn’t know how long he stood there with the same stricken look on his face. He realized it must have been hours once he sensed that the sun had set for the day.

Trying to control the churning feeling in his stomach, Spike slowly began to function, climbing the ladder and walking out of the crypt.

Making his way through the cemetery, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his duster, avoiding the path that Buffy usually took to patrol. If she needed to be strong about it, then he wouldn’t help to weaken her defenses. She had been weak for too long and he had used the opportunity to his advantage, wanting to get close to her. He should have done something different. He should have resisted her when she wanted to forget about everything and feel again. He should have helped her and not just helped her to forget.

“Why couldn’t it be different?” he said, looking up at the sky, his voice coming out in a raspy whisper. “Why couldn’t she just see how good it could have been between us?” he yelled, throwing his fist into the side of a nearby mausoleum, not noticing when his skin split open with the impact, letting the blood trail down his hand.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around, leaning against the side of the crypt and letting his head fall against it with a thud.

“Why couldn’t she love me?” he whispered, finally letting the tears spill free and run down his cheeks.

Allowing himself a few minutes of mourning, Spike slowly opened his eyes, pushing himself away from the cold stone.

How could he go through eternity like this? The pain was almost too much to bear. He had to restrain himself from walking in the direction of her house, wanting to watch after her the way he usually did, even if she never knew he was there. Refusing to go back to the man he’d once been, lurking in the shadows and waiting to catch a simple glimpse of the woman he loved, Spike began walking back to his crypt. There was no point in staying out any longer. He couldn’t hunt, he couldn’t patrol- unless he wanted to run the risk of seeing Buffy, and he wasn’t willing to reopen the wound that hadn’t even begun to close.

“Spike!”

Ignoring the sound of his name, he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, willing the sound of her voice out of his mind.

“Spike!”

Unable to ignore it any longer, his brow furrowed as he turned to look over his shoulder, seeing Buffy running toward him with her long blonde hair flowing behind her.

“And now you’re hallucinating,” he muttered to himself.

Hearing the soft thump of her feet hitting the ground and smelling the lavender that seemed to follow her, Spike’s eyes widened as he fully turned around, catching the Slayer in his arms when she practically leaped toward him. He didn’t think it was possible for a vampire to have a heart attack, but the feel of her lips against his in a desperate kiss nearly caused one.

Wishing that he was strong enough to resist her, Spike eagerly returned the kiss, enjoying the feel of her warm lips against his for, possibly, the last time.

Pulling away breathlessly, Buffy looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. An underlying look of relief settled over her features.

“What happened?” she asked, looking at his stunned face.

“Don’t know, Slayer,” he said, still studying her. “What are you talking about?”

“I was…you were…Spike, I don’t understand.”

“You’re going to have to be more clear, love. Are you alright?”

“I-I think so,” she said softly, looking down at herself as if she was double-checking that she was intact. Spike noticed her hands were shaking. His gaze slowly moved upward to settle on her face, and he nearly lost his balance when he saw the pure adoration in her eyes that was directed toward him. “I don’t understand- one minute I was right there with you and then the next…”

“You talking about this afternoon, pet?” he asked in confusion.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Right now. I’m talking about just a few…”

Trailing off when she saw his eyes grow wide, Buffy turned to look over her shoulder, wondering what he was staring at. Not seeing anything, she slowly turned back to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“Your hair,” he said in a raspy whisper.

Self-consciously bringing her hands up to touch the silky strands, a soft pout formed on her features as she tried to realize what he was talking about. “Yeah?”

“It’s…it’s long.”

“Spike, are you okay?”

“When did you…how did you…”

“Okay, you’re adding an extra layer of wig onto my already freaky night.”

“It’s a wig?” he asked in uncertainty.

“No- wiggy night, not ‘wig’. It’s my…Spike, I’m really starting to get freaked out.”

“What were you talking about?” he asked, looking at her with the same shocked expression, trying to snap out of the shock that he seemed to be in. “You were with me a few minutes ago?”

“Uhh…yeah,” she replied with her patience obviously running thin.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” she asked, looking up at him in confusion.

“Tell me what we were doing.”

Glancing to the side as her mind wandered, Spike watched the soft pout form on her bottom lip as her eyebrows drew together. “We were at home,” she said, not noticing the way his body jerked when she said ‘home’ in reference to the two of them. “I went into the kitchen to get a drink and get you some blood and then wham!” she cried, making a wild gesture with her hands.

“Your head exploded?” he replied, unable to keep the slight smile from his lips as she rolled her eyes and smacked him in the chest.

“Spike, this is serious!”

“I don’t see how it can be, Goldilocks. We weren’t at your house, and you sure as hell weren’t getting me anything.”

“But…but we were,” she whispered, her eyes becoming watery as she tried to convince him. “And then, all of a sudden, I just wind up in the cemetery. I don’t even know how I got here…or how you got here, for that matter.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Spike said, growing more concerned as she remained adamant. “You ended things with me today, Buffy. Do you not remember that? I’m not your dirty little secret anymore, so why don’t you go home before you do something that you know you’ll regret later?”

“Ended?” she whispered in shock, shaking her head, causing Spike to frown as her longer hair swept around her shoulders. “No. I wouldn’t…I would never end things with you.”

“Stop,” he growled, stepping away from her when she tried to close the distance between them.

“Spike-”

“Just stop!” he yelled, grabbing her shoulders and throwing her against the side of a crypt, pinning her in place as the last of his sanity seemed to slip out of his grasp. “Is this one of your fucking games!?” he yelled, shaking her, trying to ignore the tears that were spilling from her eyes or the way her chin was quivering. “You want to rip my heart out and then pretend that we had some kind of fantasy relationship? You’re a lot more heartless than I ever gave you credit for.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, shaking her head as he glared at her. “I didn’t…I’m telling the truth! Why don’t you remember? You know I would never hurt you…I’m yours, Spike. Please remember,” she whispered, breathing a little easier when she felt his hold loosen. “I’m yours.”

Letting go of her shoulders, he took a step away from her, needing as much distance as he could get. “You were never mine,” he said softly.

Her chin quivering as she brought her hand up to her hair, she slowly brushed it away from her neck to reveal the pale scar that resided there. “I’ve always been yours.”

Taking a deep breath as he took a hesitant step toward her, Spike slowly reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand to tilt her head a little, further exposing the scar. Narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, he trailed his hand down the column of her throat, letting his thumb brush over the scar that had obviously been reopened on more than one occasion.

His eyes widening when he realized it was his mark, Spike staggered away from her, shaking his head. “I never bit you,” he whispered. “Knew you’d never forgive me, if I did…I never…”

But the fact remained that she was wearing his mark. More than one.

“You didn’t just bite me,” she said softly, obviously treading lightly since she didn’t know why he was acting so strange. “You claimed me.”

“When?” he asked, slowly raising his eyes to hers.

“Four years ago.”




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