Raiting: NC-17 (for sexual situations, bloodplay and adult language)
Timeline: Postseries.
Summary: Sometimes you get what you want, if you just want it enough. Buffy has a strange dream, or is it? Suddenly she is back in time, waking up beside Spike in a familiar ramshackle building.
Prologue
What she wanted.
It was long past midnight when she went to sleep, but these days it always was. She would patrol for hours, hoping to exaust her body so she’d fall asleep immediately when she at last went to bed. Her attempts had yet to give results.
The bed always seemed too big, too small, too soft, too hard, too... everything. Strange how you could miss sleeping in someone’s arms even though you had only laid in them two times. Or at least two real times, all the other times... They just didn’t count.
You would have thought it’d be easier as time went on, but apparently that wasn’t the way it worked. The desperate longing in her had stilled, yes, but the emptiness didn’t go away. A part of her was missing and she couldn’t find it.
She would turn over again and again, before sleep finally claimed her. At least the nightmares had stopped, that was something. She couldn’t count the times she’d woken up, gasping and in a cold sweat. Yes, it was good they had stopped. It was just that... now he was never there.
The feel of his skin under her fingertips.
What she wanted.
Somehow the day came when she noticed her friends’ worried glances, the way her sister was hovering over her like an overprotective mother. And she realized the mourning had to be over. Next morning she’d gotten out of bed and tried to not go through the motions. Trying to live, or trying to fool her friends, and most of the times she was convinced she succeded. But as she had said to Angel so long ago “I cannot fool myself”.
Neither could she stop want.
Chapter 1
The first thing her mind registered when she woke up was the fact that she wasn’t in bed. Whatever she was lying on was much harder and the air around her was chilly; if she didn’t know better she’d guess she was outdoors. Her whole body ached too, as if she’d been fighting for hours without break. That was really weird too, because she hadn’t patrolled last night, instead Dawn and she had watched movies.
Oh, and she was naked.
Buffy opened her eyes with a gasp. What the...? She was on her feet in an instant, attempting to cover herself with her hands. Which was ridiculous truly, because she seemed to be alone in a ramshackle building. She blinked. Something was oddly familiar about this situation.
“Slayer?”
Buffy startled, then closed her eyes. She’d imagined that voice too many times. Perhaps she was dreaming again, or back in the replay-everything-you-have-done-with-Spike-marathon. That seemed very possible; nowadays it was one of her favorite entertainments.
Almost on it’s own, her gaze traveled downward until it met a pair of blue eyes. Eyes which shone of concern, irritation and a trace of fear that the one they belonged to desperately tried to hide. She blinked again. This wasn’t possible. She had to be running the replay-marathon again. That didn’t stop her mouth from opening though.
“Sp... Spike?”
For a second he just looked at her, before a humourless chuckle spilled over his lips.
“What’re you playing at now, love?” he asked. “Pretending that –”
“Spike.”
The rest of the words died on his lips and he stared at her, the confusion written over his features. For a moment Buffy stood perfectly still. Then she threw herself at him. The vampire lay motionless under her as she peppered his face with kisses and her hands roamed over him; eyebrow, shoulders, elbow, chest... and god, he felt so real.
“Spike,” she said again.
“I think we’ve confirmed that, pet.” He grabbed her forearms and pushed her backwards, making her lift her head. “Buffy, what –”
“You’re here,” she whispered, “You’re really here.”
It wasn’t until she saw how wide his eyes had become that she noticed how hard she was trembling. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to care, and she couldn’t stop it. After a second his grip started to falter and one of her hands rose again. Fingertips millimeters from his face she hesitated, before slowly letting them glide over his left brow, down his cheek and up again to touch his forehead. The traces of his face were so familiar, so... right. The skin was soft and pale under her fingertips, his eyes swallowing her whole. He was here. He was really here. The realization made the tremblings fortplant and when her thumb graced his bottom lip she broke down. Tears ran down her cheeks and she desperately clutched him to her, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
First he seemed too stunned to act. His body was tense and he held her loosely; as if she was a stranger who had mistaken him for someone else. But so, slowly, his grip tightened. She choked on a sob, pressing her face harder against his bare skin.
“Shh…” he mumbled quietly, sitting up and adjusting her so she was in his lap.
“Buffy, what’s going on?”
He tried to lift her chin to meet her eyes but she just held him tighter. Couldn’t bring herself to let go. If she let go maybe he would disappear again.
“No you don’t, but thanks for saying it.”
When she came back to herself, she realized that his bare shoulder was wet and that her nails were digging into his skin. With a small gasp she pulled back and eased her grip.
“Sorry,” she whimpered, “I didn’t mean to...”
Spike hesitated a second, then cupped her cheek, his tumb wiping her tears away.
“What’s with the tears, love?”
“You don’t....” She swallowed.
She forced her gaze away from him to look over the place again. It was a big hole in the ceiling and rubbish and glass were spread over the floor together with their clothes. She caught a glimpse of the leather skirt she’d only worn one time.
With one quick motion he’d flipped them over, his harsh pants cold against her neck as he panted.
Shaking her head to clear it, she swallowed again and her heart began to pound in her chest.
“You...” She thought for a second. “Willow’s spell, the one with the crystal, you remember it?”
“You mean the one that made me believe my name was Randy, that I was Giles’ son and I had a sodding soul? No. Not at all.”
“When did it happen?”
He eyed her expression and his hand dropped from her face. He opened his mouth to answer but she just held up a hand and stood. Next moment she was pacing in front of him.
Who would do this? Who earned anything on sending her back? Maybe this was just a dream after all, she was sure she had gone to sleep in Rome yesterday evning. Or perhaps this was all just some crazy fantasy she’d made up; Dawn had been complaining about how Buffy’s thoughts always seemed to be somewhere else...
And when she stopped he was still there. His eyes spoke volumes of confusion even as they raked hungrily over her body. Still she couldn’t help but notice his body’s reaction to hers.
Of course he saw what she was looking at and he leered. It was so... Spike, and she felt tears well up in her eyes a second time.
“Gotta say, Slayer,” he said, “I never would’ve thought you’d be so... carefree.”
“Oh please! It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this a billion...” The words came before she could think and she turned to face him completely.
“... but you haven’t,” she finished.
Spike inhaled sharply. “You’re from the future.”
It wasn’t a question and Buffy nodded.
“Seems like,” she said. “And you...”
Before she could stop herself she’d fallen to her knees in front of him and raised a hand to touch his cheek again. He leaned into her touch automatically and she blinked stubbornly to not let the tears spill over anew.
“Oh, go,” she murmured, more to herself than to him, “How I’ve missed you.”
A flash of awe over his face and he reached forward to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. She was so lost watching him that it took a couple of seconds for her to register his lips were moving.
“Huh?”
“You. Coming back,” Spike said, one eyebrow arched. “Any idea how?”
“About what?”
“Didn’t you just say you were from the future?”
“Oh, right.” She flushed and glanced down. “And no. No idea. I should probably gather the gang.”
Buffy got up unwillingly and offered him her hand. A surprised look flickered over his face before he took it and she pulled him up.
Neither of them spoke another word until they both were fully dressed.
“Let’s go through the sewers,” Buffy said, “You know the way, right?”
“You want me to go with you?”
“Um... I mean... if you don’t want to...”
“Do you think I don’t want to?” He grabbed her hand anew and pulled her with him towards the stairs. They were halfway up when she remembered something.
“Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I have my panties back?”
Buffy had forgotten how deep into magic Willow had been. How trapped in the power. How reluctant to see that magic actually couldn’t solve everything. But most of all she had forgotten how angry she was with her best friend. Willow was supposed to be the smart one, how could she have let herself go so far?
When Buffy and Spike stepped through the door were Willow and Tara eyeing each other and Amy half through a sentence. Tara looked so sad and Buffy found herself recalling what a sweet girl that was. She wanted to kick Willow in the head; maybe that would knock some sense into her.
“Buffy!”
For the first time Buffy noticed her sister.
“Hi Dawnie,” she said, “Sorry for not coming home last night.”
She gestured for Spike to follow as she stepped into the kitchen, wincing as she sat down.
“You hurt, Slayer?” Spike asked.
He sounded concerned, but as Buffy turned around she saw the self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. With an answring grin she let her gaze rake down his form.
“Yeah, Spikey?” she said, “I imagine that some of your... parts... sting too.”
The flash of surprise on his face made her bite back a giggle. Then she noticed the others looks. Willow and Tara just stared, even though the latter had a small, knowing smile on her lips. Strange, had Tara suspected something all along? Even before Buffy made her confession? Dawn looked back and forth between her sister and the vampire.
“Were you guys... in a fight?” she asked.
“Sort of.” Buffy felt her cheeks redden and looked away.
This was her innocent teenage sister. She and Dawn had not laid in Rome, exchanging memories, tears and laughs. This Dawn had not seen Buffy break down without warning, crying until she had no tears left. This Dawn had not slipped into her bed, after that Buffy had awoken them both by screaming. Her sister had grown more the last two years than Buffy had realized, and this sister wasn’t ready to see any of what that the older version had. She was still as clearsighted, though.
“Ohmygod! You guys had sex!”
“That’s none of your business, Dawn.” Buffy said.
“You slept with Spike?!” Willow stared at her dumbly.
“In difference to some of us, I don’t whore myself with Rack.” The words came almost frighteningly easy. So did the lazy shrug.
Willow blinked violently and took a step backwards, at the same time Amy murmured something about ‘time to go’ and quickly slipped out through the back door.
“Whore? What do you mean ‘whore myself’?” Willow said “And how did you know?”
Buffy drew in a deep breath and before giving the redhead a weak smile. This wasn’t the time for this, she hadn’t planned what she was going to say and it wouldn’t surprise her if Willow was still high on the magic.
“Go to bed, we’ll talk later.”
“Buffy, I really think we should...”
“Just go to bed, Willow.”
When Willow finally disappeared upstairs Buffy gave Tara a grateful smile.
“Thanks for staying with Dawn last night.”
Her smile was returned with guesto.
“It was really no problem, B-Buffy.”
“A big problem though,” Buffy said, “is that last night happened to me two years ago.”
TBC