Dawn watched sadly as Buffy trudged out into the cold, wet English winter. It was their first since Sunnydale had collapsed. Since Buffy’s will to live had dusted along with Spike. Dawn felt the familiar burn of tears behind her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall, swallowing down the hard, stinging lump in her throat. Looking around her at the cheerfully winking lights on the Christmas tree, at the decorations glittering almost feverishly in the warm glow of the fire, the stockings hung ready for the night, she sighed. Despite all her efforts, this would be an empty Christmas.
Buffy walked almost mindlessly through the still-strange cemetery, half-heartedly feeling for the tinglies that would tell her that there were vamps in the area. She still half expected the familiar signature every time she approached a lair, but that special tightening of her belly, the wonderful heat he inspired in her, never came. She laughed bitterly, the sound muffled by the heavy, wet snowflakes hanging in the air around her; it had been colder than any winter ever recorded in England this year, and she wondered with cynical irony whether it was because her own heart was so torn and numb.
Trust me to figure out that I love him when it’s too late. God, I’m such a screw-up.
She stopped, looking down at the stake in her hand. She remembered what it had felt like to have that wooden point slammed home into her flesh. Did vampires feel that pain, before they dusted? She’d always thought that they deserved to be put down, like animals, and that her calling was right. But if there were more like Spike, who had the capacity for guilt and love and all those things they weren’t supposed to feel, and she killed them before they had the chance to embrace it, how did that make her any better than a murderer?
“That’s me. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Generally useless, doomed to live unloved. How poetic. Guess you guys get your justice, too.” This was directed at the vampire currently approaching her.
He paused for a moment, confused, then snarled. Almost negligently, she let the stake fly like greased lightning from her hand and he looked down at the base of her weapon, sticking out grotesquely from between his ribs. Stunned, he watched as she approached him, knelt down at his side, smiled sadly and mouthed ‘sorry’, and then he didn’t see anything at all.
Watching as he crumpled into dust that quickly melted into mud on the wet ground, she sank to her knees. The cold was beginning to get to her, her fingertips and her toes prickling with the warning pain that came before numbness. Suddenly she was filled with hot, irrational anger. Why was she still here? Did the Powers enjoy watching her suffer?
I’ve had enough!
With frantic energy she tore at the buttons on her thick coat, hurling it into the gloom around her. Her sweater and top soon followed, her bra and then her boots and socks landing on top of that. She scrabbled for the buttons on her jeans, ignoring the biting chill seeping into her bare flesh. Tearing off the heavy denim, she ripped away her panties and at last stood naked in the cold, tears scalding her frozen cheeks.
“I’ve had enough! I’m done. I can’t take any more of your shit!” Her voice was a hoarse scream. “How can you expect me to live when I’ve got nothing left to live for. Nothing left…”
The sob took her by surprise, choking her as she tried to breathe through it. Shuddering with the force of her grief, she slumped to the ground, curling up on her side, ignoring the icy stabs of pain in her already numb muscles. As she cried she thought about Spike, that first meeting when he’d looked like an albino panther, all sleek beauty and danger, through to their first violent coupling, his first declaration of love, and finally how he’d looked when she’d finally realized she loved him.
“No you don’t, but thanks for saying it.”
A fresh wave of tears made her sob so hard that her stomach heaved, but she couldn’t find the energy to get up and vomit. I love you, Spike. I love you so much. Why did you leave me? Why do they all leave me? What’s so wrong with me that nobody can love me?
She closed her eyes against the memory of his touch, his kiss, his love. “I love you, Spike. I wish I had the chance to tell you.” Her voice faded into silence as the deadly numbness tightened its grip and she slipped into the welcoming darkness of oblivion, her golden skin made sallow by the cold.
She opened her eyes slowly. At first she cringed back from the blindingly bright light in front of her, but it began to fade and she gradually began to see a figure taking form in the heart of the pale glow. It wasn’t until the glow only suffused the air around the figure that she saw who it was.
“Mommy?”
“Hello, Buffy.”
Joyce Summers smiled at her daughter through the glimmering tears on her face. Buffy reached out a wondering hand, and when it touched solid flesh, she threw herself into her mother’s arms, crying silently. She inhaled the familiar, fresh-cookie smell of her mom and squeezed harder. Joyce waited until the rush of tears eased before drawing away.
“Now honey, there’s some things we need to get sorted, and we don’t have much time.”
“No! You can’t leave me again!”
Joyce smiled patiently. “I’ll always be watching you, Buffy, but right now we need to talk. What’s all this about your calling not being right?”
Buffy looked down, biting her lip. “Ever since Spike…” She cleared her throat to give herself time to fight back more sobs. “Ever since Spike dusted, I’ve wondered about other vampires. What if some of them are like him, just waiting for the right time to begin the path to redemption, and they never get the chance because I slay them?”
Joyce laughed. “Honey, don’t you think that the Powers protect that kind of creature, whether it’s a vampire or a human? How do you think Spike defeated two Slayers? He was meant to survive, just like the vampires you slay aren’t.”
Buffy felt some of the tightness in her chest ease, and was surprised. She hadn’t realized how much the thought of unwittingly slaying something even that dubiously linked Spike had been bothering her.
The glowing figure reached out and clutched her daughter to her fiercely. “Now you listen to me, Elizabeth Anne Summers. I did not put up with having to wash blood and burn marks and who knows what else out of your clothes for years to have it end like this.” Buffy gave a watery laugh.
“No daughter of mine is a quitter.” Joyce continued firmly. “Spike didn’t dust just so you could sit around moping for the rest of your life. The world needs you, Buffy. Your family needs you.” And then, with a mysterious smile as she began to fade. “And there’s always something worth living for, Buffy. Always.”
Buffy stared as, for a moment, Joyce was enveloped in that bright light for the last time, and Buffy saw the faint outline of feathered wings behind her, and suddenly she knew. “You’re an angel.”
Joyce laughed again, and it was filled with all the warmth and peace that she remembered from Heaven. “Of course, honey. Aren’t you?”
Buffy woke to the feeling of every muscle in her body screaming in agony. She moaned in protest, then stilled as she realized the she was moving. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest, but she couldn’t seem to open her eyes, no matter how hard she tried. She would have panicked, but suddenly the tingles dancing across the back of her neck made themselves felt. For a moment she froze, feeling an achingly familiar, languid heat flooding her veins.
“Spike.” Her voice was a hoarse croak, but whoever or whatever was carrying her obviously heard it, because the next moment the movement stopped and she felt herself being lifted and tilted.
Slick warmth bathed her eyelids, melting the ice that had frozen them shut. Strangely enough, it didn’t feel like the kind of lick that preceded eating. It felt… tender, caring. She carefully opened one eye, and then the other, and slowly the world came back into focus. She looked up into the face of her rescuer and felt her breath catch.
“And there’s always something worth living for, Buffy. Always.”
Bright blonde hair that fell in natural curls over a ridged forehead, dark eyebrows with a jagged scar slashing through one of them, cheekbones so sharp she could cut glass on them, full lips that didn’t quite cover sharp, slightly curved fangs and bright gold eyes that glittered with feral intelligence.
“Spike?”
The vampire paused, cocking his head and giving a curious rumble. Recognition flashed in those hauntingly beautiful eyes, but he didn’t respond. Apart from being in game face, he looked exactly as she remembered, physically, but the spark of life in his eyes was lacking the thing that made him Spike, the joy and the love that almost overflowed every time he looked at her. But it was still his arms wrapped around her, his chest she was cradled against, and she let herself snuggle down in his embrace and drift into sleep. If I’m dreaming, I don’t want to wake up. I love you, Spike.
The vampire looked down at the petite, pale girl in his arms and noticed with alarm that her eyes had closed again. He listened and found that her heart was beating steadily if too slowly, and that her breathing was deep and even. He gave a relieved sigh. The demon purred in contentment as she wriggled so that she was pressed more tightly against him; he had his mate in his arms and she was safe.
When he’d woken, he’d been laying in the snow, totally confused and lost; the last thing he remembered was blinding pain and then… nothing. He’d risen to a crouch, looking around curiously, when the scent of vanilla and daunting power had reached him. The demon had bolted to full awareness, one thought reverberating in his head. Slayer. Mate. Buffy. He’d raced towards where he could smell her, only to find her naked in the snow and so cold and still he’d thought she was dead.
It wasn’t until he lifted her frozen little body that he realized that she was still alive. Following his instinct, he’d been heading out of the graveyard and towards the woods when she’d woken. He purred again. She was going to be alright.
Buffy swam towards consciousness reluctantly, only to suddenly jerk awake at the feel of warning tingles skating across the back of her neck. It took her a moment to recognise the signature, then she remembered everything and smiled, rolling over to face her vampire. In sleep, his face had relaxed into its human mask, and a contented purr vibrated in his chest. Curious, she looked around her at her surroundings.
Spike had carried her to a small, obviously disused lodge in the woods. She wondered what had happened to the occupants, then decided that living so close to a graveyard in the middle of a forest probably wasn’t conductive to good health, whether you lived on a Hellmouth or not.
They were currently lying on a queen-sized bed with a dark wooden frame that took up the majority of the room, and though the sheets were faded and a little itchy, the thick duvet had warmed her body enough that her Slayer healing had kicked in and done the rest. Apart from a faint ache in her joints and a dull throb in her toes, she felt tired but healthy. The dim light she could see came through the tiny crack in the heavy, moss-green curtains.
Rising, she silently padded to the window and peered out. The view took her breath away. The woods were covered in a thick layer of soft, clean, white snow, flakes of which still drifted down to settle on the pure, crisp carpet it had formed. As she watched, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and lent the whole scene a magical silver glow. She breathed out a sigh of wonder before turning back to the bed.
Spike lay on his back, one arm reaching out to rest on the warmth she had left behind; he reached for her even in sleep, and she suddenly felt close to tears. Creeping back to the bed, she flowed gracefully to rest at his side, propping herself up on one arm. Studying the lines of his beautiful face, she felt herself beginning to get more than a little aroused.
Leaning over, she caressed his cheek, her fingers sliding wonderingly over his smooth skin, her thumb sweeping gently over the fullness of his lips. Her other hand, however, was less chaste, sliding over the hard, sculpted muscles of his chest before finding a nipple, pinching softly before moving down to toy with the secret spot just to one side of his hip bone; it was one of his most sensitive erogenous zones.
As he began to stir, the purr becoming louder, she slid down his body, coming to rest opposite the object of her affections. As she lightly trailed her finger over that secret spot, she watched the muscles in his stomach ripple and jump as his erection began to swell. She gave a soft smile before taking a firm grip around his shaft, tears stinging her eyes as he stretched and sleepily blinked open those deep blue eyes, made dark by desire.
Spike woke to the most glorious pleasure singing through his nerves. For a moment he wondered if something totally unexpected had happened and he’d ended up in Heaven by someone’s mistake; the last thing he remembered was watching Buffy run for safety as he looked out over what could have been the end of the world.
Another bolt of pleasure made him groan and open his eyes. To his surprise he wasn’t greeted by the stern face of an angel banishing him back to Hell where he belonged. Instead, he found himself looking at a low ceiling, made with old-fashioned beams that made him smile in wistful remembrance of an age long gone.
Then he became aware of three things simultaneously: the heavenly smell of vanilla and sweet, intoxicating power, the beat of a heart that sounded shockingly familiar and wonderful, damp warmth sliding over his cock. Looking down, he found himself staring into wide, desire-glazed green eyes. He tried to speak, but a sudden tightness in his chest prevented it.
Buffy watched from her position over his hips as Spike threw back his head, groaning incoherently. She sucked harder as she slid her mouth back down, pausing when he hit the back of her throat. When he looked down at her again, hypnotised, she smiled around him and swallowed. He tensed, a high whimper coming from his throat as his body was wracked by shudders of exquisite pleasure.
As his cool, salty release slid down her throat, she gently caressed his stomach until finally he went limp in her mouth and, with a tender parting lick, she slid back up his body to face him. He turned to face her, the purr of sated contentment back again, making her smile wistfully. She gently reached out and cupped his face in her palm, the tears finally coming in a silent flood as he closed his eyes in bliss and nuzzled into her touch.
“I know you can’t understand me, Spike, but I love you. I’ve loved you for longer than I cay say.” Her voice was a warm whisper. “I don’t care if you never get back to normal. I tried normal once and it wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’ll love you forever, no matter how you are.”
Spike felt tears stinging his own eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. When her eyes flew to his in surprise, he smiled. “Love you too, Buffy. More than you’ll ever know.” Seeing the flare of hope and joy - so pure it was almost painful - in her eyes, he suddenly pulled her to him. “I’ll always love you. Maybe I always have.”
He nuzzled her neck and the sudden, sweet scent of her arousal made him smile. Feeling all of the borrowed blood in his body travelling south at a rate of knots, he rolled them so that he was laying over her, staring down into her tear-streaked face, her reddened eyes still beautiful despite their swollen soreness. Giving her a look that was pure, smouldering lust, he bent his head and captured her mouth.
Her hands shot up and tangled in his curls, her lips parting as he slanted his mouth over hers in a dominating, passionate kiss that was so intense she found her senses were already reeling. He lifted slightly to look down at her, the feral light back in his eyes, though the warmth that told her he was Spike was still there. Smiling wickedly at the glazed look on her face, he ran a hand down her throat and cupped a round breast.
Buffy groaned as he tweaked her hard nipple with an expert’s touch, soothing the slight sting with maddeningly slow rubs. He gracefully eased down her body and fastened his lips where his fingers had been, suckling so intently that she nearly melted into the mattress, whimpers of pleasure escaping her parted lips. He chuckled as his fingers wandered downwards, brushing the curls that guarded her entrance before coming to rest over her clit.
He lifted his head again to watch as he pressed lightly against that magical nerve. Buffy’s hips shot off the bed, her flushed face tensing as her breath hitched for a moment before she began to gasp and moan. His thumb continued to massage her as his fingers slid down, probing, searching, until they plunged into her tight heat.
Buffy squealed, her hips rolling as her body quaked. He began to purr sensuously, half speaking the words, half growling them. “That’s it, baby, come for me. Come on, Buffy, let it go. Wanna make you see stars, kitten. Wanna watch you come for me.”
Her muscles suddenly went taut, her back arching almost painfully as ripples of blinding pleasure spread outwards through her body from her core. The pleasure had just begun to fade when Spike, growling unintelligibly, crawled up her body and slammed his cock into her.
For a moment there was a sharp, pinching pain and she gasped involuntarily. Hearing it, the vampire stilled, though his body trembled with the strain. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was only seconds, her body eased its strangle-hold and he began to slowly move in and out of her.
Buffy sighed her relief, then began to moan as the pleasure started to build again. Their pace increased, their bodies rocking in perfect harmony, until he was pounding into her, straining for release. Sliding a hand between them, he pressed hard on her clit and was rewarded by her scream as her tight muscles clenched and fluttered around him.
Snarling his delight, he rammed home one last time and, as his orgasm crashed through him, the demon burst forward. Lowering his head, he gently but firmly twisted her face away and struck, sinking his fangs into her neck. The ambrosia of her blood raced through him and he groaned, shuddering in almost unbearable delight. Just as her own orgasm began to fade, Buffy felt herself positioned and then the ecstasy of his bite once the first sting had eased. A second release swept through her as she dimly heard Spike snarl above her.
“Mine! My Buffy, my Slayer, my mate.”
“Yours.”
Her voice was soft but held a note of something darker. A sudden, primal desire filled her and she flipped them, her sweating body gleaming in the moonlight. Looking down into his surprised, golden eyes, she gave a feral smile of her own and struck like a viper, sinking her blunt teeth into the flesh of his neck until she tasted the cold copper of his blood.
“Mine!”
And he smiled, his eyes half closing. “Yours.” He agreed solemnly.
She collapsed onto his chest, suddenly exhausted. He turned them so that she was laying on her side, curled up against his chest, one of his arms slung around her waist. The purr was back again, the soothing sound making her sleepier by the second. She felt his unneeded breath against her neck and smiled; it was funny how he was the only vampire she’d ever met who breathed. Perhaps it was because he seemed so human, so much of the time.
“Buffy?”
“Mmm?” She was already half asleep, her voice a slurred mumble.
“Not that I’m not grateful ‘n’ all, but how did I get back?”
She smiled and snuggled back against his broad, gently vibrating chest. “You were sent by an angel. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
She could hear the amusement in his voice. “Whatever you say, kitten.”
As she slipped into sleep, she thought she felt another pair of warm, familiar arms embrace her and a light, fresh-cookie scent flow around her as a bemused, whisper-soft voice said, “There’s always something worth living for, Buffy. Always. Merry Christmas.”
****************
A/N: Well, there it is! Enjoy, and a happy Christmas (or other festival) to everyone!
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
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!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
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!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!