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Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer or its owners, and have nothing to gain from the posting of this work of fanfiction. Buffy and Spike are, sadly (for me anyway), owned by their creator, Joss Whedon, and I am merely borrowing them for entertainment’s sake.

Spoilers: This story takes place immediately following Episode 18, “Dirty Girls”. References events leading up to and including episode 18.

Author’s note: Thanks ever so much to DSDragon for her wonderful beta assistance! I wouldn’t have posted this one without your help :-) I pretty much had this one done before we saw episode 18(in the States), but then real life got in the way and prevented me from wrapping it up. So it was mostly on paper before I saw the heart-tripping preview of episode 19 (and was in beta when I saw episode 19)… Anyway, this was heavily influenced by the poem at the end (which just screamed Spike/Buffy when I first read it). Hope you enjoy, and as usual… feedback is appreciated :-)


+ + + +
Her soul cried out for his.

She didn’t realize it of course, as she wandered aimlessly through the empty streets, tempting the fates that were, no doubt, out to get her.

It was all starting to be too much. All of the events from the past few months suddenly felt like an anvil hanging around her neck, pulling her into the depths of despair and she couldn’t shake it. She’d tried everything she could think of to beat this force working against her and her rag-tag army. She’d tried facing it head on, fighting with all of her might and relying on the combined forces of her friends and those entrusted to her care, yet nothing worked. Every little battle along the way seemed lost to her, except for the one, glorious triumph where she managed to beat the Turok-Han and rescue Spike from the clutches of the First Evil. But even that had soon crumbled to a loss as she realized that even though the one baddie was gone, hundreds upon thousands more were waiting for her. So far she’d tried everything she could think of, except for the one thing she most wanted to try. Deep in her heart, she just wanted to escape.

As she wandered, the night’s earlier events skittered past her mind’s eye. With every step she took, she could see the casualties over and over again. Potentials, girls her sister’s age, who were placed in her care, lost their lives fighting for the mission… a mission that none of them, including her, had chosen, yet bore gladly and accepted as their calling. She suddenly realized that she could have easily lost all of her closest friends- her family- this evening. And if Spike hadn’t been there… She shuddered to think how much worse Xander’s injury would have been, as if it wasn’t already bad enough.

Finally, Buffy snapped out of her absent thoughts and seemingly aimless wandering to notice where she was. A frown creased her features as she looked up at the place that was once her escape from reality.

+ + + +
He walked through the night with a purpose, his stance daring anyone or anything to stand in his way.

He knew that she needed him; had known it from the moment he saw the battle falling to pieces around them earlier that evening. He knew that she’d be falling apart, but would be too proud to ask for help. Physical help she could ask for, but not emotional help.

For the first time since he’d gotten the wretched spark of a soul, he honestly valued its existence. He could feel her despair pulling at his heartstrings, crying out for the comfort and support that the logical side of her brain wouldn’t let her come right out and ask for.

So there he was, stalking through the cemetery, seeking her out to once again offer to her whatever she would take from him.

As he turned a corner, she slowly came into view, looking so tiny and slight in front of the looming concrete of the crypt where she stood. A sinking feeling of genuine sadness that he hadn’t felt in years touched his heart when he saw her raise her hand and tentatively touch the surface of the cold stone door. He watched as she placed her hand flat on the door, as if she were trying to detect movement from the other side. He kept his distance, but called out to her as she began to lean in and he caught the look of longing that passed over her face.

“That’s not who you are anymore, love.”

He had no way of predicting how she would react to his presence, though based on experience he half expected her to react badly. Knowing her frame of mind, he was a little bit stunned to see her slightly relax at the sound of his voice. She slowly lowered her hand and turned to face him, but he still maintained the distance between them.

“Spike, what are you doing here?” Her voice was soft and inquiring, not harsh and demanding like it had been so many times before when she would ask the same question of him. He could see unshed tears sparkling in her eyes.

“I came out looking for you; thought you might need some help,” he replied, keeping his tone just as gentle as hers. As he began to walk closer to her, she nodded, and turned back to the door of his old crypt. When he reached her side, she moved to touch the door again. Without thinking, he reached and grasped her wrist, slowly guiding her hand away from the door.

“Buffy, that’s not who you are anymore,” he reiterated. “It’s not who we are anymore.”

“I know,” Buffy replied, her voice whisper quiet. Spike still held her wrist, and instead of pulling away from him, she surprised him by leaning toward him and resting her cheek against his chest. That slight contact sent a feeling of warmth throughout his body, and Spike had a hard time distinguishing if he was feeling actual warmth from her body or just figurative warmth from being so close to her. He decided to take his chances, and released her wrist with one hand while placing his other on her lower back, holding her in a half-embrace.

Just as Spike was beginning to enjoy the feel of once again having Buffy in his arms, he felt her recently freed wrist worm its way between his duster and his shirt, allowing her tiny hand to splay across his back, much as his was positioned on hers. They stood there, seemingly frozen in time, motionless and each one content with the feel of the others embrace.

Buffy inhaled deeply, reacquainting her self with the scent that was uniquely Spike, and that had been strangely absent when he wasn’t wearing the duster. He smelled manly; she didn’t know any other way to describe it. He smelled of soap, and leather, and alcohol and tobacco. There was a natural, earthly undertone to it, and she thought it a little strange that “natural” would be the word she used to describe a being that was so unnatural, in so many ways.

“I missed you,” Buffy told him, as he began to absently play with her hair, the ends of which had slipped from the loose knot she’d twisted them into. A smile found its way to his lips at her admission. She turned her head to look toward the crypt, and then rested it back on his chest. “Do you ever wish we could go back?”

A little too quickly, he responded, “No, I really don’t.”

Buffy recoiled at his words, jerking her head back to look at him, confusion marring her face. Tears slipped from her eyes and down her cheeks as she just stared at him, not finding a single word to question him.

Spike felt her stiffen in his arms, and tightened his hold on her slightly before reaching up to brush away her tears. “Love, let me explain,” he said, as he guided her back into his arms. She went willingly, so he continued.

“Things are so different between us now. For starters, you’re standing here, willingly letting me hold you in broad, open…moonlight.” He felt her cheek move as she smiled against his chest. “Just now, we were starting to have what could very easily qualify as a civilized conversation, and we’ve had quite a few of those lately. It’s actually been several months since either of us has deliberately tried to hurt the other. So you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not jumping at the thought of going back to the people we were when we were hiding from the world underneath that crypt. My connection with you now feels more precious than I ever imagined that it could, and I don’t want to do anything that would take that away.”

Buffy raised her head to look at him, as more tears streaked down her face. Without thinking, Spike again reached up to sweep the moisture from her cheeks. For a moment, she nuzzled into his hand before completely shocking him.

She reached up and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. He was a little too stunned to respond, and when she pulled back his expression made her grin. She gave one last glance over her shoulder toward the crypt before telling him “I suddenly don’t want to be here anymore.”

She took his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together, and began to walk toward the cemetery gates. He followed her, not speaking for fear of breaking the magical feeling surrounding them. When they reached the gate, Buffy stopped, and huffed out a discouraged sigh.

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Well, Pet, where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care, just not home. Not yet.”
+ + + +
They wandered for a while, and finally ended up in the park, with Buffy sitting on a swing and Spike pushing her like they were children out for recess. They talked idly, chatting like two friends who had been interacting this naturally for years. He told her a little bit about his journey back to Sunnydale after getting the soul, she told him about her job at the school.

Eventually Buffy grew tired of swinging, and they went to sit on the ground underneath a shady tree-or one that would have been shady, if the sun was out-near the sandbox. Buffy leaned against Spike, and he gently wrapped his arms around her. For the briefest second, Buffy was reminded how similar this was to the way she’d spent the night following her mother’s funeral…with Angel. This time though, with Spike, felt so much more relaxed. She was free of the angst of knowing he would go away at daybreak and leave her there to deal with her pain alone. The memory of Angel began to slip a little more from the back of her mind, and she allowed her soul to be comforted by Spike’s presence. She knew that he would stay with her; not out of some misguided sense of loyalty or a feeling of obligation, but because there simply was not another place on earth he’d rather be.

“I was afraid,” she started to admit, as Spike played with her hair.

“Of what?”

“I was afraid that you didn’t love me anymore.”

“Love, I went to the ends of the earth for you. It’s going to take more than this soul burning me for all the wrong I’ve done to take away my love for you.”

She twisted in his arms so that she could look at him, and started to trace his cheekbones with the tips of her fingers. She leaned in, and this time when her lips reached his he returned the gesture, kissing her gently yet thoroughly.

“You’ve started calling me ‘love’ again,” she said when they separated. He started to say something, but she put her finger to his lips to quiet him. “I don’t mind. I never realized how much I didn’t mind until you stopped.”

They sat in silence for a while. Buffy knew that Spike was breathing either out of habit, or out of the power of suggestion, but after a while she noticed that they were breathing in sync, their chests rising and falling in the same rhythm. For the first time in weeks, maybe even months, she allowed herself to relax and draw strength from the calm of Spike’s presence.

“If I asked you, would you do something for me?” Buffy’s voice was near a whisper, not wanting to disturb the fleeting peace they both felt.

“You know I would. I’d do anything for you, Buffy,” Spike responded honestly.

She turned to look at him. “Will you take me away from here?”

He smiled at her, and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “You know I can’t do that. Remember the last time we tried to run away?”

“I remember…that horrible RV and getting stranded in the desert. And I know that I can’t run away. Not now. But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it? To entertain the notion that we could just pack up and run away in the night to some exotic location, with no worries or cares.”

“Yes, Love that is a very nice thought. And there’s nothing I’d rather do than sweep you away from this place with all of its pain and worries.”

“But we have to stay here, and save the world. Again.” Buffy replied, letting a hint of disgust slip into her tone.

Spike tightened his hold on her and placed a kiss in her hair. “Tell you what, Pet… We’ll stay here and save the world, one more time, and as soon as we’re done, I’m taking you on a vacation.”

“Really? But Spike… I can’t… I mean just because we stop whatever Big Bad is coming, doesn’t mean everything will be normal. This is the hellmouth. Something will always be brewing.”

“And there’s another slayer in town now. Faith can take over long enough for you to get away. She got a three year vacation, why can’t you take some time off?”

She snorted, rather unladylike. “Spike, Faith was in prison.”

“Still… she wasn’t slaying, now was she?”

“No, I guess she wasn’t.”

“So, then. She’ll take over, and we’ll go on vacation. Anywhere you want. Except South America… too many bad memories, what with Dru leaving me there and Captain Cardboard leaving you to go demon hunting there. But anywhere else… you pick it and we’ll go. Make a list. I’ll take you anywhere and everywhere you want to go. I want to see the world through your eyes.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you Spike?” Buffy questioned, as his tone became more excited.

“I’m as serious as a stake to the heart, Love.”

“Well, first things, first, William.” She smirked when he cringed slightly at her use of his proper name. “It’s going to be light soon, and we need to go home. I think we both could use some sleep. And like you said… Faith is there, so she can watch out for the Potentials while they train. Will you do something for me?”

“We’ve already covered this, Buffy.”

“I know.” She smiled. “When we get home, will you tell me a story about all the places we’ll see, and hold me while I fall asleep?”

Tears clouded Spike’s eyes as he began to wonder if he’d heard her correctly, but she just kept on talking. “And then, after I fall asleep, will you stay with me so that I don’t wake up alone? I don’t want to wake up alone anymore.”
“Love, are you serious?”

“As serious as a stake to the heart,” she quipped, borrowing his previous sentiment.

“Then you’ll never have to wake up alone ever again. Buffy, I’m yours until the end of time.”
+ + + + +

As the first hint of pre-dawn twilight started to creep over the horizon, the two blondes walked hand-in-hand back toward Revello Drive. They strolled happily, much like two young lovers, straggling in from an all night date, and for once the fates smiled down upon them. No vampires jumped into their path, no monsters attacked from around any corners. Buffy and Spike were able to just enjoy the walk and revel in the nearness of each other.

As they entered the house and ascended the stairs to her room, the reality of her situation suddenly didn’t feel as daunting to Buffy. She somehow had the sudden clarity that there was no way to predict what would happen tomorrow, or two weeks from now, or two months from now, but that regardless of the uncertainty of her life her outlook didn’t have to be pessimistic.

She finally allowed Spike to wrap her up in his arms, with no pretense or expectations, and she could feel his love settle to the very marrow in her bones. It wasn’t about possession anymore, for either of them, it was about them finally having the courage to face their desires and realize that even though the road may be rocky it was well worth the trip.

Spike felt an acceptance that he never dreamed possible, with his slayer laying in his arms and trusting him enough to guard her in her dreams. He almost thought he could get lost in the feeling, but he knew that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be lost because she’d always manage to find him, and remind him of his potential and what he did for love.

As they drifted to sleep, they knew that their future was uncertain. They knew that there was a very good chance they’d never see the vacation they’d just so dreamily planned, but it was also just as likely that they would. They knew that there were hard times lurking just around the corner, but that they had the strength to make it through. They had learned to lean on one another, while still maintaining their own independence, and they had taught each other to face their fears with the grace and strength that had always been just below the surface of their own character.

And they finally learned what it meant to be loved.

+ + + + +
After awhile you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn't mean possession
and company doesn't mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises and you begin to accept
your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of an adult not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build your roads today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have ways of falling down in mid-flight.

After awhile you learn that even sunshine
burns if you get too much so you plant your
own garden and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn...
--Author Unknown

End




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