Falling From The Stars
The mansion, while Angel had used it as home after his tenure in hell, had never been a place to call home. She remembered vaguely how, after a period of time, she could walk through the door without shuddering inwardly at what had taken place during her junior year. How Angel had made it into something different, not so much for its grandeur; rather for its availability.
However, this place would always be landmarked as the location where she officially lost her innocence. Where she killed Angel and was catapulted into the first in a long series of personal tragedies. She felt nothing of the original sorrow these walls had harbored, though. Not now. Her stomach turned slightly at the thought of what this place had once meant to her. The years she wasted over the shadow of a man that had robbed her of her childhood while promising a future that he would never be able to give her.
She loved Angel in her own way. The way one fondly recalls an old acquaintance. A distant memory of a forgotten friend, someone whose memory remained preserved as something entirely different from who he had grown into. He had made her into an adult, though, far before she was ready to face it, and though that might have stood once as a testament to how she survived for so long, it similarly blocked her from accepting the man at her side. From thinking that anyone would ever love her as passionately as she thought Angel had.
“We don’ have to stay here ‘f you don’t want to,” Spike said softly. He was watching her intently, his eyes inquisitive and cautious.
Buffy turned to him in confusion. “I…is it hard for you?”
“No, pet. I jus’ think it might be hard for you.”
“It’s not.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve been around for a few years. I know that look when I see it.”
“Maybe you only think you know that look. I’m not giving any look. I am essentially lookless.” She smiled softly, kicking her shoes off. “And even if this imaginary look exists, it’s not what you think it is.”
“’S not?”
“No.”
“But I jus’…you need to know that I’m okay ‘f it is.”
“No, you’re not.”
He nodded begrudgingly, shrugging his duster off and tossing it to the nearby sofa that had gone unoccupied for, in this timeline, months. “No, I’m not, but I’m the one who has you now.”
“I was thinking how much I resent Angel for taking away my childhood.”
There was a long pause.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I misread the look.”
“Looks like.”
He frowned. “Bad pun.”
“Yeah.” Buffy smiled and curled into his side. “I love you. And being here…it just serves as a million reminders of why I do. The number one reason at the moment is that you’re not Angel, and you’ll never be Angel.”
“To a bloke that’s seen you over the past few years, though—”
“I don’t want Angel. What I felt…you telling me that I didn’t love you hurt about ten bajillion times more than the entire ‘killing my first love’ thing…I can’t even begin to tell you.”
His expression grew somber. “Not exactly the best method of consolation, sweetling,” he murmured. “Tellin’ me I hurt you…”
“You did what you thought you had to.”
“An’ that makes it right?”
“I knew why you did it. It hurt like…well, nothing else, but I knew why you did it. I hadn’t given you a reason to believe me.”
“Buffy—”
“All the good in the world can’t erase the bad, Spike. It’s still there.” She sighed and glanced down. “What I did…I can understand why you’d think—”
Spike cupped her cheeks and brought her lips to his, kissing her with such reverence, it inspired tears to her eyes. It would be a while before she settled with the idea that this was something she deserved. Her past was marred with scars and hurt, and for as long as she had held onto ideals that should have died as she grew older.
Angel was her Ashley Wilkes.
The thought made her snicker.
“Buffy?”
“I just mentally compared myself to Scarlett O’Hara.”
Spike grinned sardonically. “Miss Scarlett has nothin’ on you, baby.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Close. ‘S true.”
“I’m just saying, when I finally realized I’d been in love with you for years while stupidly waiting around for Angel, it was too late.” She offered a watery smile. “You were gone.”
“Yeh, but there’s one small difference.” His arms slid around her waist, and he pulled her flush against his body. “I give many damns.”
Then he was kissing her. His lips were on hers, moving against her sensually as his tongue plundered into her mouth. And then the past didn’t matter. Not anymore. Right now, they were simply together. What had happened had happened, and the future was not set. They could change their destinies. They could fulfill what they were intended for and take the road less traveled by.
She had thought it was too late to turn around. It wasn’t. And had the Fates not intervened, she never would have realized it.
“God, Buffy.” Spike drew his lips away from hers when he remembered that she needed to breathe, smiling into her eyes before his mouth took chart down her throat. “You’re so gorgeous.”
She hummed in pleasure. “You just like to flatter me.”
“Uh huh. That’s it.”
“I knew it.”
The vampire rumbled a chuckle, his fingers dancing down her sides. “You’re a bloody water sprite,” he murmured. “Like a Frost poem that leaps off the pages. You’re a goddess an’ you don’ know it.”
A long shiver ran through her body. “Spike…”
He lifted her shirt over her head, a shuddering sigh quaking his shoulders at the sight of her; standing there before him, pert nipples peaking through the white lace of her bra. “God,” he gasped, palming a breast reverently. “Have I mentioned how much I’ve missed you?”
He was on his knees the next minute, mouth engulfing her through the thin fabric. Buffy threw her head back, her fingers threading through his hair. “Once or twice.”
“Mmm…” He snapped the front clasp of her bra open, tongue encircling a nipple, suckling her sweetly. “Missed your titties.”
“Guh…”
His hand was already busy at her skirt, sliding up her leg and releasing a warm sigh into her skin when his fingers brushed against her sopping flesh. “Fuck,” he panted, his eyes trailing up the length of her as he slid two eager digits inside her pussy. “You’re always so wet for me.”
“Spike…”
Her skirt was gone the next minute, his tongue curling around her clit as he moved his touch within her slowly. “I could do this forever,” he murmured. “Never tire of your taste. Your li’l gasps. The way you throw your head back…” He nipped at her sensitive button, gaze flashing when she subconsciously followed his words, her eyes falling shut. “Yeh, baby. Jus’ like that.”
A long moan tore through her throat, and she fisted the material of his black tee, drawing it hurriedly over his head. “Spike.” She pushed him back just slightly so that his mouth abandoned her with a mutual moan of protest. “Want you.”
“Want you, too. For now an’ bloody ever.” He reached for her and grasped her wrists, tugging her forward until they collapsed back on the floor. Buffy straddled his hips, her eyes wide with need. The deep azure of his gaze flickered back at her, and he smiled seductively. “You smell delicious.”
She drove her hips into his, gasping as his denim-clad bulge struck her clit with every thrust. “Oh God.”
“Mmm…”
“Need you.”
Her rhetoric seemed to simplify when she was in the heat of passion, and he found the trait endearing. “Need you, too.” His smile widened and his hands clasped around her wrists, dragging her up the length of him until her pussy was hovering over his mouth. “You interrupted my snack.”
His tongue plunged inside her before she could reply, and a long, strangled mewl tore through the air. “You have…a fixation.”
He chuckled into her, and she shuddered at the pleasure of the vibration.
“Don’ see how you’re fairin’ at the wrong end of said fixation,” he replied before delving into her again.
“Oh God!”
“Mmmm…”
“Spike!” She threw her head back, her eyes wide. Hot-white shards of pleasure were spreading like wild fire through her body. “Want…want you inside.”
His thumb settled over her clit, beginning a slow, torturous massage. “I am inside,” he retorted, tongue diving into her pussy again. “Feel me inside?”
“Ohhh!”
“Taste so fucking good.”
“Spike, please!”
The vampire indulged one last long lick then averted his attention to the proud bite mark gracing her inner thigh. “Love you,” he growled, mouth latching onto the small wound and suckling intently. “So much.”
“Oh GOD!”
“Come for me, baby. Wanna taste you. Wanna drink your wine.” His fingers’ attentions to her clit intensified, and she could feel the inferno inside her raging toward explosion. And when he sank his blunt teeth into her skin, she touched the heavens. Her body erupted into a detonation of unbridled bliss. She felt Spike’s mouth move back to her pussy, felt his tongue exploring her, lapping her up, and every stroke simply fueled the explosion. Her skin was searing, her insides were on fire, and the old cliché of seeing stars became a reality beyond anything she had ever experienced.
Spike edged her down his body carefully, purring his contentment. He looked positively over-satisfied with himself, but she didn’t care. Her body was singing and it was because of him. He could be as nasty or vulgar as he liked; he had every right.
“Give us a kiss,” he said instead, luring her down to his wet mouth.
That jarred her back to herself. A long, playful laugh tickled her throat and she threw her head back. “Eww.”
“Eww? Kissin’ me is eww all of a sudden?”
“You have…” She gestured in articulately.
“’m covered in Buffy juice.”
“Spike!”
“What? ’S the truth.” He chuckled again and shook his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You li’l hypocrite,” he said dotingly, tugging her down again and plundering her lips with his. “’S good enough for me, but—”
“Me, too. Or should I remind you?”
“You an’ your magic tongue.” He kissed her again. “An’ your cute li’l hypocrisies.”
“I am not a hypocrite.”
“I beg to bloody differ.”
“Humph.”
“You’ll taste me but not yourself? I’d wager I get the better end of that bargain.”
“Hey, buster, I’ve tasted myself plenty of times.” She frowned as his eyes fogged with lust. “Okay, that didn’t come out right.”
“Oh, it came out jus’ fine.”
That self-satisfied smirk needed to be eradicated, she decided. Her fingers were already busy at his fly. Spike always managed to keep her naked despite regardless whether or not he joined her in her nudity. She remembered that well—remembered the hours he would spend bathing her with his tongue, bringing her over the edge too many times to count. Keeping her delirious with pleasure so that she would stay. So that she wouldn’t leave him.
That was over now. It wasn’t all about keeping her satisfied, and it was time he knew.
The future was for them.
He whimpered as her hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him slowly. “I don’t mind tasting you,” she said, sliding down to lap at his length. “Me? With kissage? Just seems messy.”
“Delicious, you mean,” he gasped, thrusting forward.
“To each his own.” A long moan coursed through the air when she released him to tug his jeans down his legs completely, taking her time unlacing his boots as he watched her. The anticipation was something that drove Spike crazy; she remembered that much simply for the times she spent with him that she hadn’t been consumed with selfishness and dedicated time getting to know what drove him mad with lust. Though such incidents were few and far between, she was going to rectify that now. Use her memories and what little knowledge she had to make him cross-eyed with satisfaction.
When he was completely naked, she sat back and smiled her contentment. He was panting with need, his eyes imploring her in desperation. “Buffy!”
“Need something?” she asked kittenishly, her hand encircling his erection once more, massaging his shaft eagerly.
“You,” he growled. “Get up here.”
“I like it down here.” To accentuate her point, her mouth descended over his cock again, drawing him into her wet cavern. Spike’s eyes went wide and he released a tangled moan, his head falling back again as his hips thrust into her needily.
“Buffy—”
She pulled back, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. “See? Like it down here.”
“Fuck!”
“M’hmm.”
“Cheat.” He sat up suddenly, hands coaxing hers away from him even as she huffed her discontent. “Want to be inside you.”
“That didn’t seem to matter when I said it.”
“Well, no, because I wanted to taste you.”
“So now that I wanna taste you—”
Spike shook her head and tugged her up his body again, his cock sliding against her warm wetness. “’S not what you’re doin’, pet,” he replied. “You think I…Buffy, the claim’s half-complete. I can feel what you feel. An’ you’re daft if you think half of anythin’ I do to you, or did to you, is because I thought you’d leave me. I jus’ love you, then an’ now, and I wanted to worship you the only way I could. For bringin’ me this far.”
Her eyes filled with tears for the hundredth time that night. “I…”
“I don’ need a series of favors, baby. I jus’ need you.”
“But if I want…” Her eyes fell closed and a long whimper coursed through her body as he slid inside her. “Oh God.”
“You feel so good.”
“Oh…”
“So bleeding wonderful.” Spike coaxed her down to him, his arms wrapping around her as her head rested against his chest, her breasts flattened against his skin. Then he flipped her over, his cock thrusting deeper inside, and they shared a moan of completion. “This is all I ever need, sweetheart,” he said, covering her throat with small, bitey kisses as he began moving slowly within her. “I jus’ need you.”
“But I…” She arched into him, her fingers threading through his hair as his mouth found her breast. “I like worshipping you, too.”
“We have forever for that.” His hips thrust steadily into her; small sighs and whimpers scratching at the back of his throat with every plunge. “We have forever, sweetling. There’s no rush now.”
“No rush,” she agreed, nodding feverishly. She jerked him back to her lips, swallowing him in a hungry kiss, her arms encircling his throat as she thrust zealously against him, recapturing his cock with every withdraw. As though he had been born a part of her body, and every time he pulled away and in again, it sent her into a spiraling frenzy of forgotten need. “God, Spike.”
He smiled sweetly against her lips, kissing her again. “You feel so wonderful,” he murmured. “Like nothin’ else, sweetheart.”
Like nothing else, because there was nothing between them now. She was with him because she loved him, and the future was theirs.
“Oh God.”
“Love you.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder, then buried his face in her throat, his body setting a fast yet tender tempo. “I love you so much. Never lettin’ you go.” He shook his head against her. “Made that mistake once.”
“I did.”
“No—”
“Don’t argue with me.”
He chuckled, driving into her harder now. “Don’ think that’s possible, pet,” he murmured, nipping sweetly at the half-completed claim mark. “Never possible. That’s half the bloody fun.”
She smiled at him, but didn’t reply. It was amazing how close she felt to him. How having words to match the sensations flooding though her could enhance everything she felt. She was more connected with him than she had been to anyone. Now. This moment. His arms around her, his body thrusting steadily into her, stroking her to a fiery blaze.
“God, Buffy,” he panted, laving a wet path around a nipple, nimble fingers caressing her neglected breast. His thrusts deepened frantically, her muscles strangling him with every plunge. “You’re so gorgeous.”
“Uhhh…”
“You feel so bloody good.”
“Oh yes,” she mewled, jerking his mouth to hers once more. “So good.”
“My tight li’l Slayer. So warm. So bleedin’ hot.” His thrusts intensified madly, lips finding hers in an ardent frenzy. “Love you so much,” he whimpered against her lips. “You set me on fire. You’re so hot. So bloody perfect. Feel like…fuck, baby, it’s never felt like this. Gets better every time. Every bleeding time.” He slid a hand between them as a familiar burn started to spread through her body. Their mouths met again zealously, bursting into a fury of frenzied kisses. The still air around them filled with the slap of their thrusting flesh, the hard slip and slide of his cock from her body triggering her into an explosion of sensory.
His fingers stroked her clit speedily, his fangs bursting into his mouth. “I love you,” he told her fervently. “I love you so much. Love you.”
“Yes!”
“Need to feel you come, sweetheart.” His mouth lowered to her throat, incisors skimming her skin. “Need…”
“Spike!”
“Need to…” His control was slipping. She could sense it. Felt the familiar need spread throughout his body. His muscles tightened beneath her touch. “Need…Buffy, I need to…”
“Do it.”
“Buffy—”
“Claim me.”
The world had never heard a more perfect sentence. And the second his fangs sliced into his mark and she shuddered into an explosive orgasm. His name ripped through her lips, colors flashing around her as her body sang in celebration. Yes. This was it. This was home. She was his. They had forever now.
“Mine!” he growled into her skin. “Mine, Buffy. You’re mine!”
“Oh yes!”
“Say it!”
“Yours.” She tugged him close. “Yours, Spike. I’m all yours.”
That was it. His head reeled back, and he lowered his throat to her mouth. “Bite me, baby,” he begged. “Do it. I need you to do it. Need…”
And she did. As though her body was meant for it. As though everything she had ever done had been leading her to this moment. Sealing her fate for eternity. Making him hers, and accepting the realism of her plight. No longer alone. She was his, and he belonged to her. She would never let him go. Her teeth sank into his throat, marking him as hers, deep into his skin until she tasted his blood in her mouth.
“Fuck!” Spike gasped, thrusting into her frantically.
“Mine.”
“Buffy!” She felt something wet splash onto her skin, her body exploding all over again into a new awakening. And she felt everything. Every emotion rolling through his body, the chorus singing through him, the wash of love he had. Everything. He was weeping against her in completion, his body coming hard inside her. They belonged to each other. She had brought him home. Finally, after everything, they were home. “Yours,” he sobbed. “Yours. Forever.”
She didn’t know how much time passed before he raised his head again, panting hard, settled in the wondrous solace of belonging.
Tonight. One night out of a thousand. One night where her dreams had merged with reality. Tonight was the beginning of something new. A future that hadn’t existed just a few hours before. A future that was now theirs to change.
Two people had the power to alter the course of the universe.
Spike pulled out of her reluctantly, collapsing on the floor beside her. “God, Buffy.” His arm wound around her, pulling her against his chest. “I love you so much.”
“Love you.”
“An’ you’re mine now.”
She smiled gently and nodded. “Yours.”
“No regrets?”
“Oh, tons. Most right now centering on…why the hell it took me so long to…” She shook her head. “My…god, tonight…”
“Bloody dream come true.”
“Oh yeah.”
Quite literally.
She was so afraid to fall asleep. So afraid to give fate a chance to take everything away from her. Tonight had awakened dreams and eradicated all-consuming grief. Had taken her from the misgivings she had so richly fed, the sparks of self-loathing for the way she had let this end between them.
There was no end now. They were together. In one night, everything had changed. She had rediscovered herself in Spike’s arms. Had been given a new chance. A silver lining in a world stormed in clouds.
“Don’ wanna sleep,” he murmured, even as she felt him rumble in exhaustion. The night had been physically and emotionally draining, but there was nothing warmer than the bliss flooding her body. “Don’ wanna…”
“I’ll still be here.”
“’F you’re not, I’ll find you.”
“Not if I find you first.”
He tugged her closer. “Never lettin’ you go again.”
“Never.”
The rest was for tomorrow. For the sun that was peeking over the horizon, the new morning settling over a town that had not existed the day before. There was a future to change, obstacles to defeat, and a whole other world of decisions to make. But she wasn’t afraid. Not now.
Not with Spike behind her, kissing her skin sweetly as he pulled his duster off the sofa, and settled it over their sated selves.
She had this now. This was all she needed for tomorrow.
They fell asleep together just as Sunnydale was given the first of many new days. A blessed fresh beginning. The start of something wonderful.
But for now, they rested. The future required their strength.
And the rest would be left to time and chance.
fin
Conclusive Notes: I realize the bulk of people following this story were hoping for a series…my muse, however, was determined to keep this within the time span of one night. Rather than embark on a tale of reliving the past, as so many other authors have done, I went for the quick. I did end liking this story much more than I thought I would, and there is a slim possibility that I might revisit it after my board of upcoming and current projects is wiped clean. Right now, I like leaving on a note of hope, and it was all I ever set out to accomplish with this.
For those who aren’t following the BtVS/TWW series, I do have a much longer Spuffy fic that’s just emerged from the outline-stage, and I hope to start here soonish. Plus I have a smuttathon assignment, which coincidentally, the above fiction would’ve covered just as nicely.
Anyone who is interested in reading back-in-time stories, check out Megan/Peta's Taste of Juliet or her current WIP, Careless Memories. Yet another reason to end this story where I did…there’s such a vast amount of similarly-themed stories out there, and I was already afraid this particular venue had been extensively explored.
Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and/or review. You guys are simply the best, and I’m so glad to know that this fic was as least as much a joy to read for some as it was for me to write.
Peace,
Holly
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