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banner by Selene*~*~*
Once In A Lullaby
It was quite a sensation, feeling the world slow to a standstill.
Feeling the weight beneath her feet stop moving. She had never known the earth’s
orbit was something people could feel, and yet when it no longer churned beneath
her, she definitely felt that she and the rest of civilization had come to an
irreparable breech in time and space.
She didn’t know, however, if that was due to physics or the fact that Spike was
standing just a few feet away from her.
The shadow of their recent trade swarmed around her. She was outside, her hair
was mussed, her heart was racing, and Spike was just a few feet from her.
“What’s the matter?” she had spat. “Dru dump you again?”
A look of hurt had flashed across his face. “Maybe I dumped her,” he had
growled.
And then it had happened. Something had seized her, and she saw him.
Spike.
The amazing thing was, he saw her, too.
And the next minute, she had lunged into his arms, a sob tearing through her
throat. Her body wracking in tremors that threatened to consume her whole, and
the cruel twist of fate that had brought this on trembled in turn with the
potency of her agony.
This wasn’t fair. She had spent too many nights dreaming of him. Wrapped her
arms around too many pillows and sobbed out her despair. Had endured too many
talks with Willow and assurances from Xander that she would get over it, but she
hadn’t. She couldn’t. Her longing had finally manifested into an all-out
dementia, and now he was around her. His arms were around her, his mouth
pressing eager, ardent kisses into her skin and thrusting her against the side
of the building.
“Oh God, Buffy.”
She quivered into him, cupping his face and commanding his lips with hers. Spike
moaned and melted into her, plunging his tongue into her mouth and stealing her
away in the mysticism of his sinful kisses. Her legs wound around his waist and
she began pulling instinctively on his clothes. There was too much between them.
Too much separating her skin from his.
She wanted to make the most of this, if this was all she was to have.
Too many dreams. Too many wasted nights.
“Bloody dream come true,” he murmured into her, sending shivers across her
flesh. His hands were hiking up her skirt as his mouth made wicked play against
her throat. “My gorgeous Slayer.”
An angry throat cleared behind them, but neither bothered to turn around.
The world didn’t exist if not for this feeling.
“Ummm, hello!” a vaguely familiar voice snapped. “I’m standing right here!”
Buffy finally managed to wheedle a hand between them and popped open the clasp
of his jeans, jerking his fly down. His erection sprang into her waiting grasp,
and a long moan rumbled through his body.
“Fuck.”
She raised her eyes to his, another shudder wracking her body as she began to
pump his flesh rhythmically. In that steady way that she knew he loved. In the
way she knew drove him crazy. His eyes went wild with need, and he thrust
against her hand ferociously, snarling his approval and dipping his head to
nibble again at her skin.
A lifetime ago against a very different wall. A lifetime ago, she had done this.
A lifetime ago, she could not have imagined whispering how much she loved him
into his ear, or feeling relief spread through her at the feel of his touch.
Relief that did not come with the added burden of guilt or shame. There was
nothing but simple bliss at being held by him. For however long, before it ended
and she awoke in her cold, lonely bedroom again. Before she awoke in a world
where Spike no longer existed.
There were tears scalding down his cheeks. She had never dreamt of those before.
“Buffy…” His hand had wheedled inside her panties, skilled fingers gliding over
her moist flesh and running lovingly through her thin curls. “So wet.”
“Uhhh…”
“Ready for me, baby? Ready? I don’ think I can bloody stand it.”
“Spike!”
“I need you.” His other hand wedged between them and wrapped around her wrist,
coaxing her hand away from his cock. Then she felt him between her legs,
bunching her panties to the side. The head of his need brushing her intimately,
gliding over her folds until he was positioned at her opening. “I need to be
inside you. Need you squeezin’ me into bloody oblivion. God, I love you so
much.”
“Uhhhh!” She nodded frantically, unable to think up a coherent sentence, much
less scream her similar need. Reality was closing in on her. Soon it would all
be over, and she would be left with the bittersweet memory of a half experienced
dream.
It just felt so real.
“Buffy—”
“I…”
“Please.”
He had never asked her permission before. Never in their sordid affair had he
once needed her word before plunging himself inside her. She remembered vaguely
that he would growl that he needed her, explore her pussy with his fingers to
make sure she was ready, but the words of consent never escaped her lips. They’d
never needed to.
Except that night. That one night. The night that had changed everything.
And then another. Another night—the one she had lived on for the past few
months. The one that haunted her in her sleep, revisited her in dreams, and
played out what should have been her defining revelation in the mockery that she
had turned it into. That night before the last battle that she had spent in his
arms. He had asked her permission then, and she had given it to him.
And they had made love for the first time.
“Please, Buffy…” His other hand slid under her top and cupped her breast,
teasing her nipple through her bra. “I need you.”
Words returned to her then. Just when she thought fate was being intentionally
cruel.
“Yes!” She nodded erratically. “Please. Need you.”
A look of unbridled awe flashed across his face. She knew that look well. So
well. Her heart constricted painfully, her pulse racing uncontrollably. Her
fingers were digging into his leather-clad forearms, as though holding him to
her would keep the outside world from dragging her away. From placing her back
in her empty bed with nothing left but the pitiless silence of her room.
If there was a place she wanted to be for the rest of eternity, it was here.
Spike shuddered under her touch and gently brushed his lips against hers.
Then his erection slipped inside her, and her body sang in pleasure.
“Oh God.” Spike tossed his head back in astonishment. “So bleeding warm.”
Buffy released a small whimper and arched against him. “I’ve missed you,” she
whispered, brow resting against his. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips kissed
away her tears, his hips rocking gently against hers. The boundaries of reality
and nirvana collided in a wave of ecstasy, and she lost all grasp of truth.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
Spike shuddered against her, moving within her in soft, agonizing strokes.
Sliding sensually against her, his cock striking her at angles only he could
touch. He pressed a kiss against her throat. “Missed you,” he agreed hoarsely.
“Every moment.”
Her chest tightened and she swept her lips against his cheek, reveling in the
feel of him. His body was moving against hers, his cock sliding in and out of
her slick passage, eliciting feelings she had thought were dead. Feelings that
no dream could mimic. He cupped her ass to haul her into his thrusts, his mouth
dropping to her throat, coating her skin with sweet, sensuous kisses.
It was so real. She felt everything, and it was so real.
“You’re jus’ like I remember,” Spike murmured against her lips, fingers slipping
under the cup of her bra to pebble her nipple. “So warm. So perfect.” His
thrusts intensified, slow and momentous still, but fused with want that had both
their bodies burning. A burning need to beat out time. To reach their pinnacle
together before they were whisked away.
Never before in her dreams had Spike been equally frantic. In her dreams, Spike
was tempered and seductive, always chiding her for her impatience. Coaxing her
to a leisure lovemaking that never reached fruition. She always awoke before she
could feel that bliss with him. Before she could wrap her arms around him when
his body trembled around hers as she exploded, taking him with her. Feeling the
warm rush of completion as he lost himself inside her, murmuring his love for
her in her hair.
That didn’t exist in dreams. Not in hers.
Spike was moving madly against her now. Whimpers and moans clawed at his throat,
and his kisses carried the taste of his tears.
She knew that taste so well.
“Spike…”
His mouth was busy at her throat, his thrusts rocking her against the brick wall
nearly to the point of pain. Her back slammed recklessly against the building
behind her, her arms linked desperately around his neck. He was making delicious
play with her breast, his other hand slipping between them, prying fingers
finding her clit and stroking her into her next life.
Oh God.
Oh God.
This was real.
Buffy’s eyes went wide, only half-registering the encouraging mewls that tore
through her body. He raised his mouth from her skin and pressed his brow against
hers once more, capturing her eyes as his hips thrust frantically against her.
Her muscles constricted around him, squeezing him tightly just to reaffirm his
veracity. Another long whimper touched the air, painted in his voice. And she
knew then. He was driving into her with impassioned force that couldn’t be
dreamt. Spike was moving inside her, fondling her to oblivion, his azure gaze
piercing her to her core. And it was all real.
“Oh my God.”
He nodded desperately against her. “Buffy…”
Tears spilled down her face, and she attacked his mouth with hers. Drawing him
into a fiery kiss that spoke for everything she could not. The emotion burning
her system. The floodgates he had opened that she couldn’t handle. Her body was
on fire but her mind was crashing. The reality she had lived in no longer
existed. Spike was with her. His arms were around her, his lips against hers
until he pulled away to sob into the crook of her neck. He knew it too, then.
There at a moment shared. This was really happening. He was really with her.
This moment existed, and they were really making love.
It was all real.
“Oh God.”
His fingers massaged her clit speedily, his thrusts broaching the lines of need
and collapsing into a realm they were still creating.
“Come for me, Buffy,” he gasped, teeth scraping tenderly at the column of her
throat. “Need to feel you come. Need to taste you. Need to lick you out.”
“Oh God!”
“I love you. I love you so much.”
She nodded furiously. “Love you.”
His eyes widened and stormed with passion. “Really?”
And that was it. Her heart broke. Her face crumbled in devastation, and she
collapsed against his shoulder, tightening her grasp around him.
Her fault. She had waited too long to tell him. Had not recognized each time
that the opportunity arose, each time she was given to explain. To tell him
everything. To spill her love for him without worrying about everything that
turned out to be so superficial. At the eleventh hour, holding his hand in a
cave as the world fell around him as his skin began to burn with the effects of
his martyrdom, of course he would not believe her.
She had hoped that his response was out of a need to get her out of the cave.
She had told herself his words were a blessing for her to go on with her life.
She had hoped anything but the truth of his rebuttal’s simplicity. His belief
that her love was some consolation prize for saving the world. Words easily said
and just as easily forgotten. As though their relationship could be measured so
reasonably.
“Oh baby,” he murmured against her. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He was
stroking her clit rapidly, and her body was consumed. “Don’t cry.”
“I love you,” she sputtered desperately against him. “Please believe me.”
“I believe you.”
Then his fangs elongated and sliced into her throat, and she exploded around
him. A hoarse cry tearing through her body, her muscles clamping around his cock
as she rode out the waves of the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced.
His incisors were embedded in her body, her blood spilling into his mouth, his
thrusting hips demanding as much from her as she could give.
“Mine,” he sighed against her as his fangs receded, his tongue lapping
delicately at the mark he had given her. “You love me. You’re mine. Never lettin’
you go again, kitten. Never.”
A claim. He was placing a claim on her. A vampire claim—an unbreakable bond that
would seal them together forever. She knew about claims only from what she had
read following his death. The books she had poured herself over in an attempt to
find solace in his sacrifice. Not to cheapen what he had given her, but to
understand him.
She had wanted him back for so long. Careless days that turned into weeks, and
finally months. And now he was against her, rumbling in release as his orgasm
washed over her, and he slumped against her with a roar of completion.
“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly. “Yours.”
“Never lettin’ you go again.”
“Never.”
“God, Buffy…” He raised his eyes to hers, reeling his demon inward. “This is
real, innit?”
She nodded tentatively, daring fate to interfere again. To throw her haven in
her face and draw her back to the world she had left behind.
Spike was heaving needless pants, his wide, inquisitive eyes searching hers.
“Buffy?”
“Oh God.”
It crashed over her again. Her legs were curled around his waist, his body was
connected with hers, and his arms were around her. She breathed him in. Felt him
rumble against her. Tasted the essence of him that was thoroughly Spike. The
tobacco and whisky, the leather and blood. Everything that was thoroughly Spike.
He was real. His skin was really beneath hers. His lips were really peppering
sweet, heartfelt kisses across her face. The tears that had dried against his
cheeks were real.
“You died,” she sobbed, her head collapsing against his shoulder. “You left me.”
“Shhh…’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here, now.”
“Really?” Her arms tightened around him. “You’re real. You’re not leaving
again.”
“’m real.”
“You didn’t believe me.”
“Din’t want you to feel obligated.”
“I don’t say things like that out of obligation.”
Spike trembled around her and brushed a kiss across the mark in her throat. “Of
course you don’, sweetling. You remember what I said about smokescreens? I
jus’…I don’ know why I said it.”
“You believe me now?”
“Yeh.” A long tremble coursed through his body, and tears filled his eyes all
over again. “I believe you.”
Then his fingers were under her chin, tilting her into his kiss. His kiss that
tasted her with tender veneration, his tongue imploring her mouth, whispering
poetry into her body. He could move continents with the sinful strokes of his
lips. Could make mountains bow before him with the power of his kisses. And she
was no different. The lightest hint of his mouth against hers, and she lost
coherency for the sweeter side of self-indulgence.
Her body quivered beneath his fingers, her walls clenching around his cock in a
silent reminder of their position. He moaned into her and withdrew tenderly
before sinking into her warm depths again.
“I love you,” she said again.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Love you, too. So much. An’ you’re mine
now.”
“Yes.”
A slow, familiar smirk drew across his mouth as he pumped into her body
steadily. “Such a sweet li’l puss.”
Her skin was on fire. “Ohhh…”
“Jus’ one question, pet.” His head reeled back, eyes exploring hers. “Have any
idea where we are?”
Buffy studied him for a long minute. “No.”
“Well…” Spike hazarded a glance around them, his nostrils flaring. Other subtle
hints were coming into play. Loud, albeit muffled music blared from somewhere
close. She distinctly remembered seeing Harmony before losing herself in her
lover’s embrace. She was wearing a shirt she hadn’t seen in over three years,
and while Spike’s eyes were as aged as she last remembered, there was something
youthful about him that she almost didn’t recognize. As though the time of abuse
had been stripped away, and even as a vampire, he had been given back his lost
years. “We might have a bit of a problem.”
“Problem?”
There couldn’t be a problem. She just had him back. She wouldn’t let anything
take him away again.
“Yeh.” His eyes found her again. “Thing is…I think we’re back in Kansas.”
Bright Are The Stars That Shine
She felt she had stepped through a painting. Retracted and lost
herself in a forgotten memory, and was rewriting the end to solve the emptiness
that had been accumulating over the past few months, threatening to consume her
entirely. Spike was on his knees before her, his thumbs hooked under her panties
and dragging the damp fabric down her legs.
“You don’ mind goin’ commando, do you?” he asked her huskily, nuzzling her
through her skirt.
“Haven’t before,” she replied.
“’S jus’ that your panties are all…sodden.” Spike released a deep breath and
ducked his head under her skirt again, his tongue trailing a long, wet path up
her slit. “God, you taste so good.”
A long shudder ran through her body. “Sp-Spike…”
“Mmm.” He pulled away with a moan of complaint and rose to his feet. “Yeh.”
“Oh God.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. Got carried away.” He brushed a tender kiss across her lips.
“You jus’ smell so bloody divine.”
“You’re a tease.”
“Yeh, well…’f I start again, I won’t be able to stop.”
She collapsed against him, grumbling her protest when he straightened her skirt.
“See, I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.”
“Me, either, pet,” he replied with a smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Jus’ don’t fancy takin’ you against a wall…again. If I’d known it was real
before…well no, I jus’ needed you.”
“In past tense?”
He shot her a skeptical look. “Yeh. I’m all cured.”
Buffy licked her lips and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, wrapping her
arms around her middle to hide how badly she was trembling. “I’m just…this is…I
have no idea how to even begin to react to what’s happened here. The last time I
saw you…”
Spike’s features softened and he stepped forward, taking her into his embrace
once more. “I know, pet,” he murmured. “You think it was easy for me? You took
my hand an’ your eyes…I saw you…I din’t wanna think about it. What I saw. What I
was leavin’ behind.” A sigh shuddered through him. “Maybe that’s why I…you told
me, an’ it was wonderful, but I din’t wanna believe it.”
“Because…”
“If I believed it, I don’ know if I would’ve been strong enough to do what I
did. Soul an’ all.”
She sighed again and cast her eyes to the ground. “Even if you didn’t…believe
me, that is…I wouldn’t have blamed you. I waited so long. I wanted to tell you
that night in the house, when you came after me.”
A small smile crossed his face.
“I wanted to tell you then. And then after I got the axe thing and you called me
shirty. I was trying to tell you, especially after you asked if I was there with
you and I said I was.” She shook her head. “I didn’t, though.”
Spike was quiet for a long minute. “Why not?”
“Because I thought it’d jinx everything.”
“Jinx…?”
“I thought if I told you I loved you, the Powers would take you away from me.
Like everyone else…only more so.” A pause. “That’s also…why I kissed Angel.”
His eyes darkened. “I’d nearly forgotten about that.”
“Oh.” A shrill note caught her voice. “Damn.”
“Nearly. You have any idea what seein’ that felt like?”
“Yes.” Buffy met his incredulous eyes and shuddered again. “I felt it, too. I
loved you, and I kissed him to…I dunno. My life has just been completely screwed
over since I…well, you know. But I can’t keep using that as an excuse.
Throughout that year that we were…you kept me from completely falling apart, and
I treated you so badly. Then the thing happened, and you left, and I was
terrified you were gone for good.”
Spike heaved out a breath and cast a hand through his hair. “After that, I don’
bloody deserve—”
“No. Stop. I told this guy…this vampire guy before I staked him, right as things
were getting crazy, that I behaved like a monster with you. And I did. I was
terrible. What happened…what you did…I’m not saying it was my fault—”
His eyes widened. “You bloody well better not be!” he growled. “Buffy, I
nearly—”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s bollocks. That’s absolute rubbish. Of course it was my fault. I was the
one who was there, right? There’s no one else. I pushed you to the sodding
ground an’ I…” A long tremor ran through his body, and he wiped errantly at his
eyes before reactionary tears could spill down his cheeks. “You can’t be one of
those girls who lets men hurt her an’ then defends them by sayin’ it’s all
right, ‘cause I love you.”
“I’m not.”
“Funny.”
“No, it’s not. I treated you terribly. What you did to me was not nearly as bad
as what I did to you. It just gets messed up in the logic that men hurting women
is worse than women hurting men. I hurt you for months, and you were my crutch.
And whatever you did was only because that’s what I drove you to.”
He was still shaking his head, but the fire had abandoned his eyes. “No.”
“Spike—”
“I’m not gonna let you believe that—”
Her eyes flashed. “Can you honestly tell me that you would’ve tried to do that
under different circumstances? That if we had never slept together, if I had
never hurt you, if everything that happened that year had gone differently, you
would’ve tried to rape me?”
The word was there. That terrible word. Spike shuddered violently and choked a
sob, his eyes falling to the grass.
“Don’t do that,” Buffy said softly, stepping forward, taking him into her arms.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to…there were so many things I thought I’d have
forever to tell you. That I thought I could work up to. That we were on the way
to…rediscovering, I guess. No, rebuilding. Rebuilding’s a better word.”
He laughed slightly against her, forced and harsh. “It was both,” he whispered,
pressing his lips to her shoulder. “We were doin’ both.”
“Yeah.”
“Buffy—”
“My point is, despite the vampire thing…despite everything…I’d convinced myself
that your lack of a pulse also meant lack of…you loved me. I didn’t want love,
so I hurt you. And I didn’t care. It was killing me that I hurt you, that you
could love and I couldn’t, and I was terrible to you.” She pulled back slightly
and cupped his face. “What happened in the bathroom was just as much my fault as
it was yours.”
“I still say you’re daft. Women are never—”
“Spike, regardless of all else, you’re not the type of guy to hurt the woman you
love to be malicious.”
Another piercing laugh tore through his throat. “You obviously haven’t talked to
Dru recently.”
“To be malicious,” she said again. “I was there, too. The look in your eyes
after you…you didn’t see that. And I sat on the floor for a while after you
left, hating you but also hating myself for forcing you to that.”
“Buffy, please.”
“And you got a soul. You got a soul for me.” She shook her head once more.
“There are so many things I never told you.”
He exhaled slowly. “What things?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “And I forgive you.”
His face began to crumble at that.
“And thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“For being there for me…that year.”
“I wasn’ a peach, luv. You can’t convince yourself that you were the devil an’ I
was the saint. That’s not the way it works. There were a number of things that
the soul helped me see, but I wasn’ good to you, either.”
“What you did was reactionary to what I did.”
“How long did it take to convince yourself of that bollocks?”
“Two minutes.” She smiled at the look of astonishment that crossed his face.
“The rest was swallowing my pride so that I could tell you. And it took a long
time. From that first night when you were back, and I hated you so much for
being there…almost as much as I hated you for leaving. And then you blew my mind
away with the soul…and the rest was me getting to the point where I could tell
you. So I told pretty much everyone but you. I told Mr. Vamp, who it
turns out you sired, and I told Willow…only she didn’t let me know that I had
until after we were in Europe.”
“You told Red?”
“Freudian slip that she never called me on.” A shy smile crossed her lips.
“Apparently, when I was trying to go out with Robin, I told her that I wasn’t
still in love with you.”
His eyes widened. “Implyin’ that…”
“Yeah.”
“God, Buffy…”
“Only I was wrong. I was.” She buried her face in his chest and shuddered. “I
still am.”
His arms tightened around her, his body quivering terribly. “Fuck, pet, I love
you so much.”
“Love you.”
Spike pressed an ardent kiss to her forehead.
“And I knew I loved you as things were beginning to get bad,” she continued.
“And that’s why I…with Angel…when he showed up. I didn’t want to jinx anything
with you. I didn’t want to love you and have you leave me. And yeah, in
retrospect, not the brightest game plan, but I’m kinda dense.”
He rumbled a long chuckle against her.
“I fed him some crap about being cookie dough to get him the hell out of town,
and I went home to you and…”
“Told me it was a hello.”
“I was covering.”
“Yeh.” He brushed another kiss against her skin. “To think, the ponce was so
bleedin’ righteous.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. Then paused. “Wait…what?”
“’S where I was.”
“Where…what?”
Spike shivered and pulled away, just slightly. “The amulet that Angel brought to
SunnyD was shipped back to him with yours truly locked inside. He opened me up
an’ presto—reverse martyrdom.”
“When?”
“Few weeks ago.”
Her eyes flashed. “And you didn’t—”
“What? Think about you? Talk about you? Demand to know where you were, an’ if
you were okay? Spend every wakin’ minute conjurin’ up the many ways I was gonna
hunt you down, take you somewhere, an’ shag you senseless when I saw you again?”
He shook his head. “I was a ghost, pet.”
“A…is that possible?”
“Apparently.”
“But—”
“Jus’ as I got pulled here, Angel’d got somethin’ in the mail that made me very
corporeal. Opened it, felt my skin come back, then I was here.”
“Angel…”
“Yeh.”
“And he didn’t…” Fire fueled her eyes. “He didn’t call me? Tell me that you were
there? I can’t…” It didn’t take long; soon her whole body was wracked with
outrage. “That selfish, smug, hair-stick-uppy asshole!”
Spike broke down at that, his head collapsing against her shoulder as long
chuckles coursed through his body.
“Hey!”
“God, I love you.”
“Well, I love you, too, but we’re not talking about that right now.”
He glanced up to her, eyes shining with mirth. “Wanker had all but convinced me
that leavin’ you alone was the sort’ve thing a bloke who loves you would do.”
“Well, of course. Angel’s philosophy is to love ‘em and leave ‘em.”
“Guess those nancy-boy hair fumes get to you after a while. I jus’…he made me
feel like…”
“Any decision that wasn’t pre-Angel approved was automatically the wrong one?”
Spike eyed her dully. “Yeh, but I’d lived with the git before. Thought I was
beyond that ‘lettin’ him influence my behavior’ thing.”
“Join the club, honey.”
“I should’ve read into—”
Buffy pressed her lips to his, and in seconds, they were drowning in the fire of
each other’s kisses. She felt him hard against her, his erection pressing into
her aching wetness. Whatever was in the past didn’t matter anymore. She had him
now. Through some random twist of fate, she had him. Spike was hers again. And
this time, she wasn’t going to let pride or apocalypses or the disapproval of
her friends ruin the one stability in her life. Spike loved her, and she loved
him more than anything. More than she thought she was capable of loving.
These months without him had nearly destroyed her. Scorned her with what they
had, mocked her for everything she had never told him, and haunted her dreams
with the future she thought was lost with her carelessness and her delayed
revelations.
It didn’t matter now. Nothing did.
She had Spike. She wouldn’t let anything take him away again.
“Mmm,” he murmured against her, pulling away reluctantly. “As much as I’d love
to…well…” He smiled when she blushed. “God, I din’t think you could do that
anymore.”
“What?”
“Get all cute an’ flustered when I mention what I wanna do to you.”
Her blush deepened. “It’s different now.”
“Different?”
“There’s nothing…I love you, you love me…there’s nothing blocking…it’s just…”
Her skin was on fire, most from arousal, a little from embarrassment, and she
collapsed against his shoulder. “It just feels new.”
“New?”
“Yeah.”
He laughed and pressed a kiss against the claim mark on her throat. “One would
reckon you’d never been in love before.”
“When I was in love before, I was young and stupid and overwhelmed…and used,
really.” She pulled away from him halfheartedly, their fingers entwining as they
began walking together through the night. “It’s different now.”
“Good different?”
“The best different. I love you more than I’ve ever…” She blushed harder
at the look of astonishment that overwhelmed his eyes. “I’m a grown up now. I
was a girl before. I was young and…well, what I felt for Angel was big and messy
and confusing and I’d never felt anything like it before…and really, I don’t
want to ever again. He’s not perfect by any means, but I always treated him like
he could do no wrong. That was stupid.”
“I’ll say.”
“No one is flawless. What I have with you is real. I understand what I feel for
you, and I don’t fear it anymore.” She smiled softly and brushed another kiss
across his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby. So bloody much.”
“And now we should figure out where we are.”
“Thought that was bloody obvious.” He sniffed the air suspiciously. “There’s no
way to fake that Sunnyhell scent.”
“I meant…where…we’ve gone…”
“Backwards?”
She nodded. “Uh huh.”
“Well.” Spike’s eyes narrowed and he nodded to a nearby park bench where a
vaguely familiar man-shaped dark-haired college kid was macking on some
brunette. “Think that might answer your question.”
She squinted. “Who is that?”
“You don’ remember?”
“He looks familiar.”
Spike’s brows arched. “Luv, that’s the bloke that—”
“Oh my God.” She stopped in her tracks. “Parker!”
At the sound of his name, the boy leapt to his feet, a guilty look flashing
across his face. “Oh, Buffy!” he said, eyes widening. “You didn’t, uh, come
back, and I thought—”
“Good God.”
“I know what this looks like, but…” He stopped when he noticed Spike beside her,
his eyes dropping to their clasped hands. And amazingly, the guilt vanished for
indignation. “Hey! What the hell?”
“What the huh?” Buffy glanced to her lover, who was torn between amusement and
outrage. “I can’t believe you remembered what he looked like and I didn’t.”
“A century or so, luv, an’ you learn to remember faces.”
“Buffy, I thought we were on a date.”
The girl he had been smooching sat back with a lazy roll of her eyes. “So, this
is the freshman conquest?”
Spike’s eyes widened dangerously at that, and he snarled. “Tell your bird to
watch it,” he said lowly. “No one talks to my girl that way.”
“Your girl?” Parker retorted in disbelief. “She came here with me!”
Buffy rebuked in surprise. “What? Since when?” She turned to the man at her side
again. “Is it possible we ended up in a parallel universe?”
“’S possible, but I don’ think that’s what happened.”
“Since tonight?” Parker continued, gesturing to the vampire disdainfully. “You
ran off after he and this bimbo showed up, and you didn’t come back, so I—”
“Holy crap!” She twisted away from her lover, eyes wide. “We’re here?
We’re back…oh my God!”
“Buffy?”
“No.” She held up a hand, shooting a glare at Parker. “Shut up, go bang your
non-freshman hoe-bag. If you think I’d let you touch me the second time around,
especially after all the fun we had during round one, you’re outta your mind.”
“Yeah. I’m the one that’s out of my mind.”
Spike’s eyes darkened. “You’re lucky I’m all souled up,” he snarled. “Else you’d
already be a memory.”
“What the hell?”
But Buffy was not interested in listening to him. Parker was an ass and
obviously not worth remembering, and her mind was too compact with things that
actually mattered to waste more time justifying herself to him. Before Spike
could leap in and give her old one-night-stand the talking to he so richly
deserved, she tugged at his hand and coaxed him away, ignoring Parker’s calls
after her. Especially ignoring the choice word he decided to brand her character
with, even as her boyfriend snarled and vamped and gave her a look that read a
burning need to rip the bastard’s arms off with which to beat him to death.
She bubbled with unexpected happiness as reality snapped into place.
Spike was with her. Spike was her boyfriend.
“You’re my boyfriend,” she said.
The vampire’s eyes widened and he broke off from where he had been muttering a
litany of indecorous Parker-related adjectives under his breath. “What?”
“You’re my boyfriend.”
His eyes brightened even as he shot her a look that clearly questioned her
sanity. “’m more than that,” he retorted. “’m your mate.”
“Actually, I have yet to claim you back.”
“We’re rectifyin’ that as soon as we get to a bed.” He smiled at her, though,
and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “But yeh, pet. I’m your boyfriend.”
“I’m just trying to get used to it. ‘Hi, this is Spike, my boyfriend.’ ‘Have you
met my boyfriend, Spike?’ ‘I’m Buffy, girlfriend of Spike.’”
“You’re bloody adorable, is what you are.”
“When did the Parker thing happen?”
His eyes twinkled teasingly. “Jus’ a second ago.”
“I mean—”
“Round the time I got the Gem of Amara.” His brows perked. “Don’ tell me you’ve
forgotten the dimpled knees comment.” A pause. “Or, wait, yeh. You’ve forgotten
that, right?”
Buffy squeezed his hand. “No, but I forgive you.”
His eyes grew misty again at the mention of the word, and he nodded. “We’ve been
planted down right around the time that I got the gem…an’ you took it away.”
Her gaze widened. “You remember where it is?”
“Yeh.”
“We gotta find it.”
“So you can take it away again.”
“Of course not, you…” She shook her head when she registered the tease in his
gaze. “Ass.”
“Yes.”
“I love you.”
“You love asses, huh?”
“Just yours.” As if to confirm her affection for his derriere, she slid her hand
down his backside and pinched him through his jeans, encouraging a shrill yelp
through his lips. “And, well, I tend to vote for them.”
Spike smirked. “Touché, Slayer.”
“We need to get the Gem of Amara.”
“An’ not send it to Peaches.”
“No. I’m going to staple it to your hand.” She snuggled into his side. “Not
taking another chance with you.”
“You, either, pet.” His eyes darkened. “You gotta let me kill Ben.”
“Ben?”
“The doc. Glory. One in the same, remember? Rupert killed him in round one…’f
you think I’m going through your dyin’ again, you can bloody well forget it.” He
tugged her close. “Even ‘f it means breakin’ the Fifth Commandment, you
understand?”
“Yes.”
“Now, Buffy, I…” He paused. “Oh.”
“See, sometimes you have to stop and listen to me.”
“You’re really—”
“I don’t wanna talk about it now.” She turned her eyes to the ground, but
continued on anyway. “I told Giles that if I had to kill Dawn to save the world,
I would. I don’t think I could, but I said it to make a point. I’ve learned…it
was hard, but I’ve learned that self-sacrifice is…one life against the weight of
so many. Plus…” Her eyes hardened. “He betrayed my sister. He let Glory talk him
into…he’s the reason I had to jump. You’re not the only one who can’t go through
that again, Spike. You really think Willow would not raise me again?”
“Buffy—”
“Do you?”
There was a long pause. “No. ‘F all goes as it was, Red’s ego was enough to
conquer a small country by the time she got to wieldin’ that sort’ve magic.”
“Yeah.”
They stopped walking at the edge of campus. Spike turned to her fully, his eyes
absorbing her completely. “I keep expectin’ to wake up still,” he murmured.
“This jus’…it doesn’ feel real.”
“No.”
“I can’t…” He shook his head. “’F this is a dream, I don’…”
“It’s not a dream, Spike.”
“You can promise that if I ever do anythin’ to mess this up, you’ll stake me,
right?”
“I don’t think you can do anything to…we’ve already done the things people do to
mess it up. We’ve already gotten past it.”
Spike smiled and drew her close, whispering small kisses against her lips. “I
love you,” he murmured. “So bloody much.”
“I love you, too.”
“Am never gonna get tired of hearin’ that.”
“You say that now…”
“Seriously, luv. I can’t…” He drew himself away steadily and slid his hands into
his duster pockets. “When I claim you again an’ you claim me back, I…” A frown
fell over his face and he glanced down, drawing his hand out of his pocket
again. “What the…”
“What?”
He held up his palm. Sitting in his hand was a small, spherical gem, green in
color and cut from a stone that she had never seen before. It would have been
unremarkable were it not for the strange look that washed over her boyfriend’s
face. A distant shimmer of recognition buried with doubt. As though he knew what
it was without having seen it before.
“What is it?”
“I don’t…” He glanced to her, then took her hand and placed the gem in her
grasp. “I think it’s—”
That was all it took. Warmed from one hand to another, the small jewel burst
into a glorious detonation and jumped from her skin, landing on the pavement
before them.
And in a second, the image of Anya burst through the green. Like something out
of a science fiction film. Something that grasped Buffy harshly for the
realization that the night was getting a little too strange to accredit to
reality, and she began to panic that she had dreamt it up all over again.
The mark on her throat burned, and Spike squeezed her hand tightly.
“Tell me again I’m not dreamin’,” he whispered furiously. “Please.”
“You first.” Her eyes glossed with tears. “Oh Anya.”
“What—”
“She died. In the final battle, she died. And Xander about died with her.”
A somber look crossed the vampire’s face, and he squeezed her hand again.
The image of Anya turned and looked in their direction, but didn’t make eye
contact with either one of them.
“Buffy,” she said. “Well, first, hi. Second, if you’re getting this, it means I
decided to grant you your wish.”
“My wish?”
“You probably don’t remember the wish,” Anya continued matter-of-factly. “It
wasn’t an actual wish, but it contained the words ‘I wish’ so I have decided to
deem it valid. I’ve recorded a memory of myself into a Hysl’ik gem.” She turned
in the direction she had supposed Spike would be standing, which was aimed in
actuality at the wooded park behind them. “I’m sure you’ve heard of those.”
“Yeh,” the vampire drawled. “I jus’ din’t think they existed.”
“Yes,” the image continued, as though anticipating the observation. “They do
exist. And we sold them as mood rings at the Magic Box for $3.95.”
The vampire’s eyes flared. “You sold Hysl’ik gems for—”
“What the hell is a Hysl’ik gem?”
“I would like to take this moment to state that yelling at an imprinted memory
of myself has little effect, as if you’re viewing this recording, my timeline no
longer exists.” Anya turned back in the direction she had been looking when
speaking to Buffy. “Your wish was simple, and took place roughly seventy-two
hours after Spike returned to Sunnydale with his soul. I wrote it down so I
wouldn’t forget.” She reached into her back pocket. “You stated, ‘I wish the
next time I have a chance to be happy, I know enough to take it and not screw it
up by being, well, me.’ Truthfully, you made the statement to Willow after we
determined that she was making herself invisible to you, Dawn, and Xander, and I
don’t think I was supposed to hear it, but I am a vengeance demon, and it is
what I do.”
“Your wish?” Spike murmured.
“I…”
“You will notice that I have taken some creative license in granting your wish,”
Anya continued. “Instead of allowing our lives to continue in the miserable sham
we are currently entertaining, I have decided to send you back to the point
where Spike reentered your life, pre-chip, with all your memories intact, and
roughly around the time where Xander and I first copulated. In doing so, I will
accept a payment of your gratitude by ensuring that the second time around, I
will not be left in a wedding dress in the rain while my fiancé runs off because
of a twisted hallucination.” She smiled and nodded, proud of herself. “I also
found it redundant to grant your wish at the time it was issued, because it is
currently ‘Beneath Us, Devouring’ and Spike is crazy in the school basement. My
hope is that you two reach an understanding that allows you to commence with
your chance at happiness without screwing it up, therefore guaranteeing much
happier orgasms in my reconstructed future.”
“An’ here I thought her selfishness would never pay off,” the vampire drawled.
“Hey, you complaining?” Buffy replied.
“Not at all.”
“I consider this the end of our transaction,” Anya concluded. “The Hysl’ik gem
will self-destruct within twenty-four hours of being activated. Thank you for
your wish, enjoy your new timeline, and try not to mess everything up.”
She was gone as quickly as she had appeared, the green of the gem diffusing with
the loss of her light.
Buffy’s eyes fixed on the small stone, and she squeezed Spike’s hand. “My God.”
“Yeh.”
She licked her lips and turned to him. “You…you know what this means?”
Spike smiled and brushed a tender kiss across her mouth. “Yeh.” He turned his
gaze to the ground again, shaking his head. “She…bloody hell, I’ll be the best
man at Harris’s weddin’ an’ everythin’ for what…”
“You still okay?”
He looked at her again. “God, Buffy, jus’ okay? I’m so much more than okay.” His
arms came around her, and he whirled her around in delight. “You know what this
means?”
She knew what it meant. Of course she knew.
She had just seen the proof.
Happiness unlike anything she had ever felt touched every nerve of her body. It
was over-powering, almost too much, and she couldn’t help from breaking down.
From releasing a long sob of pure bliss and launching herself further into
Spike’s arms, burying her face in the crook of his throat.
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he cooed, stroking her hair softly, his arm winding around
his waist. “’S all right.”
“God…”
“Yeh, I know.”
“I love you.” She shuddered. “I love you so much.”
“Love you,” he agreed.
“Don’t let me screw it up this time.”
She felt him smile, but he didn’t bother to point out that she had chastised him
on this very point not ten minutes earlier. Instead, he nodded his agreement and
kissed his claim mark.
“We won’ let it happen,” he replied. “Both of us.”
So here it was. Sunnydale, four years in reverse.
She was in Spike’s arms. And they had a new start. A new beginning.
The night settling in on a rebirth neither had ever imagined. There was still so
much to discuss. So much to talk about. But she didn’t care about that now. Not
right now.
Right now, she just wanted him to hold her.
The rest she would think about once the break of a new day settled over her
new-fangled life.
Once she knew once and for all that she had not awoken in a dream.
To be continued in Part Three:
The Sounds Of The Earth Are Like Music…
The Sounds Of The Earth Are Like Music
It was a startled Joyce Summers that calmed her sobbing daughter after being
surprised by an unconventional late-night visit. Buffy had turned up on her
doorstep, knocking as though she was a stranger, and had all but lunged into her
arms, crying about how much she had missed her. How much she loved her. How
sorry she was for every little nonexistent disappointment, and how she wouldn’t
allow the ever elusive it to ever happen again.
That much Joyce just owned up to irrational teenage hormones.
It was the presence of Spike that threw her off. Spike looking at her as though
she was a ghost, tearing up at the sight of the girl that was supposed to kill
him in her mother’s embrace.
Spike was in her house, even after the lecture Buffy had given her about
vampires the year before. After she had let Spike into her house and treated him
with hospitality. Spike was in her house again, only he was different. She
couldn’t exactly place why, but he was different.
He was looking at Buffy as though she was an angel.
As though he was in love.
And Buffy was an irrational mess of tears and apologies. Squeezing her
uncomfortably tight and wiping erratically at her eyes every few seconds. Half
of what she sputtered through her lips was almost assuredly in some language
known only to kids of the 90s. However, as any mother, seeing her daughter cry
made her cry, and within minutes, they were a threesome of illogical, sobbing
fools.
For the life of her, she had no idea what had gotten into her daughter.
Or why Spike was there.
Why Spike cared at all. Why Spike, of all vampires, would be curled around
Buffy, crying along with them.
There were just too many things that Joyce did not understand.
But as she prepared for bed that night, feeling appropriately exhausted after
that cry-fest, she felt oddly at peace.
Something had changed tonight.
Something.
She would reserve plenty of time to grill Buffy about the particulars over the
weekend.
*~*~*
“You okay?”
Buffy’s eyes were still red and swollen, but she nodded and snuggled deeper into
his side. They were walking the familiar path through Restfield, a cemetery she
figured she could navigate well after the world finally ended.
“Yeah.”
Spike squeezed her hand. “We’ll get her help, baby.”
“She probably thinks I’m crazy.”
“You weren’ exactly coherent.”
“I just saw my mother for the first time in three years.” She shuddered. “I
don’t exactly know what I was supposed to be.”
“You were jus’ fine, sweetling.”
“Except the coherent part.”
“Yeh.” He smiled softly and brushed a kiss across her brow. “’Cept that.”
“Thank you for taking me there.”
“It was your mum. You might never have believed it, but I liked your mum.” He
paused. “Plus, she was the only one of your lot that could stand me for more
than a few minutes. I saw what losin’ her did to you. ‘F we have even half a
chance to save her this time around, you better believe I’ll tear the bloody
world apart to do it.”
She smiled gratefully. “I know.”
He grinned back at her, squeezing her hand lovingly. “So, pet, how we gonna do
this?” he asked. “You wanna stay in school, I’m assumin’.”
“Yes.” The prospect alone had her insides bubbling. “More than anything.”
“An’ us?”
“I’m thinking an apartment.”
There was a beat of astonishment. He ducked his head shyly. “You want to live
with me?”
“Ummm…duh?”
“I jus’…I…”
“You wanna do the claim thingy again sometime, don’t you?”
Spike’s eyes glossed over with passion. “Better bloody believe it,” he growled
possessively. “Tonight. As soon as we find a bed.”
She flashed him a saucy smile. “And you’re sure? You don’t wanna go sacrifice
yourself for the world again or run off with an insane vampire woman if she
comes back—”
“You gotta get over this inferiority complex, sweetling.”
“Actually, I have a superiority complex but an inferiority complex about my
superiority complex.”
“You’re confusin’.”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Still, inferiority complex. There’s no bloody way I’d choose Dru over you.”
“You were with her for over a century.”
“Yeh. Then I met you an’ that was the end of that.” A wry grin touched his lips.
“The slow, long end. But I turned her down for you before you loved me.” He
paused. “Long before you loved me.”
“Yeah, and look where that got you.”
Spike chuckled warmly and tugged her to him, eyes dropping to her mouth. “Yeh,”
he murmured. “Got me you. A long bloody time, a lot of pain…some that’s more my
fault than yours…but so worth it.”
“My fault, and—”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Buffy—”
“It was my fault. I’m not saying you were blameless, but all that was—”
“You gotta stop.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “’F we’re gonna do
this, we’re lettin’ all else go. A claim is forever. You understand that,
right?”
“Forever.”
“As long as I live, you live…an’ vice versa.”
A frown marred her face. “I…will I…will you make me—”
“A vampire? Yeh, ‘cause I’m a heartless bastard.” Spike shook his head. “No,
baby. You’ll remain jus’ as you are. Like this, right now. The Slayer. But
you’ll be mated to me. You’ll feel everythin’ I feel, an’ I’ll feel everythin’
you feel. Claims are a way for vamps to form a connection with the one they
wanna spend eternity with. ‘S like a marriage…only more. Marriage is what humans
turned claims into, but our way is unbreakable.”
Buffy licked her lips. “But you’ve already claimed me.”
“’F you don’ claim me…’f it goes incomplete, it’ll wear off with time.”
Her eyes went wide. “I don’t want that.”
“Me neither.”
“Spike—”
“But are you ready to say you wanna live out what could be eternity?” His brows
arched. “’m not sayin’ I’ll make it that long—”
“You will.” She wrapped her arms around his throat and tugged his mouth to hers,
devouring him in a desperate, hungry kiss. “We’ve both already died twice. I
think this time…”
“Goin’ at it together’s the secret?” he murmured, brushing his lips sensually
over hers.
“I think so.”
“An’ you’re ready?” He was walking her backward until her back was pressed
against a cold, stony surface. How many times had they done this in this very
cemetery? In this very spot? How often had he caught her during or after patrol,
sent her into a spiraling orgasm, only to devastate her with his eyes when she
kicked him in the head and ran home?
Not again.
“Ready?”
“For eternity?”
“Yes.”
“I’m serious, Buffy. I’d never forgive myself ‘f you—”
“Eternity. That’s fine.” She smiled and kissed him. “I can deal.”
A humorless chuckle rumbled through his throat. “Sweetness, that’s nice to say
an’ all, but—”
“I mean it.”
“You can bloody deal? I don’—”
“Spike.” Her smile broadened and she kissed him again, grasping his forearms and
twisting him around so that he was pressed against the mausoleum, and her
wandering hands were left free to explore. “Loving you while not…I don’t ever
want to go through that again. You weren’t there, and you didn’t believe me when
I told you…I never want to go through that again. And if you love me a fraction
as much as I love you—”
His eyes narrowed at that. “A bleedin’ fraction?”
“—I never want you to go through that, either. I don’t want you to…”
“’F you die, I die. That’s how the claim works, pet.”
“Okay.”
“You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.” Her hand wheedled between them, cupping the hardness that
was pressed against her stomach. “And for the record…I read up on claims while
you were gone.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.” Her mouth fell against his throat, teeth teasing his skin. Nimble
fingers pried his zipper down, a dueled moan rumbling through their throats as
his cock sprang into her waiting grasp. “Read up on everything vampirey.”
“An’ claims—”
“Just didn’t know if it made humans go all bumpy in the forehead region.” She
began pumping him tenderly, her eyes dissolving the ecstasy that flashed across
his face. There was nothing quite like bringing pleasure to one who felt as
fully with himself as Spike did. The slightest touch reduced him to a moany mass
of goodness. When she held him intimately, glided her fingers up and down the
hard length of his need, he all but melted into her skin. She loved doing this
for him—always had, even when she denied herself what she felt. The veracity of
what she felt. Feeling him come beneath her touch…there was absolutely nothing
like it.
“A-an’…” His head fell back against the mausoleum, hips thrusting forward as
small whimpers and sighs clawed at his throat. “You want…really?”
“Yes.”
“God, Buffy…such a hot li’l hand.”
Her brows flickered appraisingly. “You think that’s hot.” She pressed a
kiss against his neck, then dropped to her knees before him. There was something
so illicit about this that gave her the feeling she used to get when the elders
glared at her for giggling in church. Not for what she wanted to do; more for
the fact that he was fully clothed except for the proud extension of his cock in
her hands, and she was in plain view of anyone who happened by.
Her tongue swirled around his belled head, and a long, tangled moan tore through
the air.
“Fuck, Buffy!” he gasped, thrusting against her needily. “So bloody…god, I’ve
missed you so much.”
“Mmm,” she murmured in agreement, shifting slightly as she took more of him into
her mouth. No other man had ever made her feel cherished like Spike did,
especially when her mouth was busy bringing him pleasure. His fingers threaded
through her hair, massaging her scalp lovingly.
“Such a sweet mouth.”
She smiled and hummed against his skin, drawing her lips to the tip of him and
suckling delicately. Then her mouth dropped, planting a path of wet kisses along
the underside of his cock. “You like that?”
“God, Buffy.”
Her hand squeezed the base of his erection gently. “I’ve missed your taste,” she
murmured.
A long whimper sputtered through his lips. “I’ve missed you tastin’ me.”
She chuckled, and he moaned again at the feel of the vibrations against him.
“I’m not going to take you for granted this time,” she said, mouth releasing him
with a wet plop, her hand tightening around him in absence of her tongue. “If
we’re doing this for the rest of…forever, I’m going to spend every second making
up for all the bad.”
Spike shook his head, passion halting his speech; his eyes were wide with both
protest and astonishment.
“Yes.” She licked at his head, her teeth scraping at his skin gently. “Gonna
erase all the bad.”
His body trembled at that, as though the thought alone was enough to push him
over the edge. The fact that she wanted to eradicate their stormy past with a
future that would set them apart from the great romantic couples in history,
only she was determined that they have an authentic happy ending.
And since eternity had no end, she would have to strive for a happy life.
After so much hurt, she figured she was entitled. The past eight years had
bathed her in enough pain to withstand several lifetimes. The Powers owed her
one. They would fight through events and villains they had already defeated, but
they would be wise now. Glory would die without building her tower. When Warren
started causing trouble, she would phone the police and put his increasingly
destructive crime streak to an end. If Willow began to lose herself to magic,
she wouldn’t be blind to it.
And she wouldn’t let anything come between her and Spike. Ever.
There was no one in the world that she felt closer to.
It was a million things wrapped in one. His love. His friendship. His loyalty.
The potency of how greatly he felt everything around him. And now, when they
shared moments of stolen intimacy: the moans that rumbled through his throat,
the way he threaded his fingers through her hair, the small thrusts against her
mouth, his babbling praises making her blood sing. The head of his cock brushed
the back of her throat, and she began swallowing, her hand wheedling further
into his slacks to cup his sac. Massaging him tenderly with her fingers as her
head bobbed against him.
“Fuck!” Spike gasped. “Oh God, Buffy!”
“Mmmm…”
“’m gonna…oh fuck…’m gonna…”
She nodded without removing her mouth from him, and he couldn’t take it anymore.
With a passionate growl, his fingers fisted her hair and tugged her against him
as he emptied himself into her welcoming throat. He collapsed against the crypt
wall, panting harshly, his hand curled lovingly around her head.
“God, sweetling…”
Buffy licked him clean, wiping at her mouth as she rose to her feet. She smiled
at the adoring, awed look he graced her with. “Did you like that?”
Spike arched a brow. “Buffy…God, ‘f I haven’t told you a thousand bloody times…”
“What? A girl likes to hear it.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, thrusting his hips forward slowly so that she
could feel his erection between her thighs. Gotta love that vampire stamina.
The gentle comfort his arms around her was something she would never again
take for granted. There was so much about him that she loved; so many little
things to counteract with the whole picture. Things she could accredit to the
soul, other things that were constant with the demon and the man as a whole. She
had loved him as both; she did. Unlike Angelus and Angel, Spike and, well, Spike
were amazingly one and the same. He was the same vampire that could arouse her
with a look and ease her with a touch.
“I’ve never…with you, I’ve never felt anythin’ with anyone like what I feel with
you. I’d say you’re the best I’ve ever had, but that sounds cheap an’ implies
that somethin’ else can even begin to measure up. Not bloody possible. Nothing
can measure up to you.” He brushed a kiss against the corner of her mouth.
“You’re my everything, Buffy. I can’t remember you not bein’. Even in the years
before you, I feel like your shadow was there, waitin’ for me to find you.
Followin’ Dru from country to country, decade to decade, needin’ you without
even knowin’ it.”
Tears spilled over her eyes and she shuddered violently. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what, baby?”
“Everything.”
Spike smiled softly and pressed another kiss against her skin. “Sweetheart,” he
said quietly, “please…”
“I—”
“You forgave me for doin’ somethin’ unspeakable to you.”
“Yes, but—”
“An’ I forgive you. For anythin’ you feel you need to be forgiven for. I don’
want our future to be about our past. You were the worst form of yourself, yeh,
but that was hardly your fault. An’ I should’ve had the foresight to put an end
to it well before you did…to see it was killin’ you.” His eyes fluttered shut.
“You have any idea how much those words…”
“Spike—”
“It’s over now. I love you, you love me…an’ unless you decide against the claim,
we have eternity before us.”
“I won’t decide against it.”
“’F you do—”
“I won’t.”
Spike smiled. “’S gonna take a while before I realize this is real,” he said
softly. “That you’re really here. I’d convinced myself…”
“With my help.”
“Buffy…”
“The last time I’m gonna say about how terrible I was, I promise.”
“Bloody likely.” His brows waggled and he took her in his arms, reversing their
positions so that her back was against the mausoleum. “Now…’f you’ll excuse me…”
He dropped unceremoniously to his feet.
“Spike!”
“Your scent’s drivin’ me crazy.” His head ducked under her skirt, a hand coaxing
her leg over his shoulder. “Need to taste you.”
“Oh God.”
“’ve missed your taste, too, sweetling.” She felt his lips against her inner
thigh, a finger sliding inside her pussy. “Oh Jesus, you’re so bloody wet.”
“Uhhh…”
“So tight.” His tongue lapped adroitly at her soft wetness, a moan vibrating
against her skin. “You haven’t been with anyone else since…”
“No. Only you.”
A very still paused spread between them. “You’re not in that body anymore,
sweetheart,” he murmured. “I meant…”
“Oh. No. There hasn’t been anyone…”
He stilled. “But…you mean it. You haven’t been with anyone since me?”
She thrust against him needily. “It’s been you for two years,” she gasped. “No
one else. Only you.”
There was a different wetness against her skin at that, and she edged the fabric
of her skirt upward until she could see him. His tears of wonder, the endless
love with which he regarded her, the way his hands glided over her skin with
trembling awe and reverence.
“Even…”
“I don’t get over men that easily, Spike.”
He huffed and lapped at her delicately.
“I don’t get over…men I love…that easily.”
He captured her clit between his thumb and forefinger and massaged her softly as
his tongue sank inside her. “Mmm,” he murmured into her. “Okay.”
“Ohhh…”
“That feel good, sweetheart?”
She could practically feel his smirk against her wet skin. There were sharp
shards of pleasure shooting through her blood, her body waging with her will to
give into gravity and collapse on the ground. “You…you just want me to…stroke
your…oh yes…your ego.”
He hummed his agreement, tongue drawing a long lap up her slit. “An’ when do I
not?”
“Oh God!”
“Fuck, I’ve missed this.” His mouth abandoned her slick passage reluctantly, his
fingers slipping inside her before her mewl of complaint touched the air.
“Missed how sweet you taste. How hot you get for me.”
“God…”
“How wet you are when I touch you.”
Her hips thrust forward needily. “Spike!”
He smiled against her again, thrusting his fingers in and out of her pussy with
loving veneration. “Missed feeling your sweet li’l quim squeeze around me,” he
cooed. “Missed drinkin’ your honey. Missed your clit.” His tongue curved around
her sensitive button, eliciting a sharp gasp from her throat. “Missed that li’l
sound you make when I do that.”
“Oohhh, Spike.”
“Feel good?”
“Oh yes. Yes!”
Spike purred in approval, his grin broadening. “You taste like wine,” he replied
gutturally. “So fucking good. God, Buffy…”
“Uhhh…”
“You wanna come?”
A choked sob ruptured past her lips and she nodded furiously. Her body was
burning in that slow, delicious way that only Spike could simultaneously coax
and quell. Her hips were driving forward into his hand feverishly as his mouth
suckled sweetly at her clit.
And then something happened. Something that had never happened before.
Pleasure hinted with pain spread through her body; Spike had slid his fangs into
her inner thigh. And she exploded into the sort of devastating orgasm that only
the vampire against her could provide; the sort of solace she had only reached
with him. The outstanding bliss she had only found with him. She felt so
cherished under his touch. Felt as safe as she ever had, even with his fangs
buried in her skin.
This was not about blood. It was love drowned in pleasure, and there was nothing
in the world that could even begin to compare to the primitiveness of
sensationalism.
Spike lapped the blood from the small wound before directing his mouth back to
her pussy to lick up her spendings.
“Oh God…”
“Love your taste, baby,” he murmured. “So bloody sweet.”
“Spike…”
“So…” But the thought never saw fruition. There was a long pause as a
contemplative look fell over his face, then his eyes went wide. “Oh sodding—”
“What?”
“I—”
Too late. She saw what had distracted him the next minute.
Willow and Oz had stopped a good twenty feet away, and were staring at her in
dumbfounded astonishment.
It was like looking through a picture book. She had not noticed her friend as
she aged, but being back four years in the past, it was impossible to ignore how
the years had affected her. She was ten pounds lighter at least, her hair was
short and curly, and there was a buoyancy in her eyes that had died the year
that Glory had torn their lives apart. Something that grew dark with her
submergence into magic. The innocence that taking lives had robbed from her was
intact. And suddenly, Buffy remembered how desperately she loved her friend. How
much she had missed talking with her, how she hated herself for allowing their
friendship to disintegrate, even if she could never quite forgive her for
ripping her out of heaven.
Willow hadn’t known. And as a result, Buffy had ignored her when she was
silently crying out for help. What had happened that year had changed them all
for the worst.
Here they were. They had the opportunity to relive it.
To change everything.
And now pre-gay Willow had caught her with her pants down. Quite literally.
“Buffy!” she yelled. “Are you…” Her eyes went wide. “You know, I didn’t know
vampires liked to bite you…there.”
Spike shot to his feet and adjusted her skirt automatically. “I…uhhh…Red.
F-fancy meetin’ you here.”
Buffy flushed and grabbed him by the waistband. “Sweetie…”
He glanced down and tucked himself back into his jeans. “Ummm…right.”
Willow’s skin was roughly the color of her hair, her eyes glued to him in
astonishment.
“Avert your eyes, missy!” Buffy snapped territorially.
And the Witch ducked her head in embarrassment.
“’S all right, kitten,” her lover cooed soothingly. “Jus’ breathe.”
Spike was equally uneasy, though, despite what he said. His entire body suddenly
wracked with nerves. And she read him without having to see his eyes. Without
needing to be told what he was thinking. The notion broke her heart.
Buffy caught his hand and directed his gaze home. No. There was no way she was
going to hide this from anyone. She’d done that once before, and it had nearly
killed both of them.
Willow, on the other hand, had gone back to staring at the vampire as though she
had just noticed who he was. “Spike!” she screamed. “Buffy i-it’s Spike! Spike
with the bitey and the grrr! And he…” She frowned. “He was…biting you…down
there?”
The blonde flushed. “Ummm…yeah.”
“’S something of a fetish of mine,” Spike drawled, shrugging. “Gotta love that
Slayer musk.”
“Spike!”
Oz shrugged. “It’s like Angel, only with personality.”
The vampire snickered appreciatively. “An’ the not bein’ Angel bit.”
“Buffy…” The redhead was studying her as though she as an alien. “You…with
Spike…what…I thought you had a date with—”
“Yeah. Let me tell you how that was gonna play out. Parker makes with the nice,
gets me all with the naked, there’s a big Buffy sobfest when he gives me a
brush-off that makes my morning after with Angel look like a scene from Love
Story.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“How do you—”
“Just trust me.”
Willow glanced to Spike. “B-but…okay. I’m confused. You think Parker would…so
you…with Spike? Have we forgotten the ‘mortal enemy’ part? The part where he’s
all…fangy and evil, and haven’t you been there before? Like…last year?” She
scowled disapprovingly at the vampire. “Y-you tried to shove a bottle through my
face.”
“Yeh,” Spike said, nodding. “An’, in retrospect, that wasn’ my best move.”
“You…” The redhead’s confused eyes went back to her friend desperately. “Please
explain this to me. You’re back on vampires?”
“Just one vampire.”
She gestured at the peroxide blonde. “This one?!”
Spike shrugged easily. “I have a soul now.”
There was a long pause.
“Okay, Mister, that isn’t even funny.”
“No, Will, it’s true.” Buffy shrugged. “Spike has a soul. He went and got his
back in Africa.”
“They sell souls in Africa?” Oz looked impressed. “I don’t even want to know
what they go for on the black market.”
“I fought for it.” He glanced down.
They weren’t ready for this. They weren’t ready to answer questions about their
relationship. They hadn’t decided what they would tell anyone; hell, they hadn’t
even talked about it.
This night was supposed to be for them, and them alone.
“But, umm, what are you guys doing out here?”
Willow and Oz exchanged a glance. “You a-asked us to patrol,” the former said.
“Because the dateage with Parker…and H-Harmony having a boyfriend?”
“Bugger.”
“What?”
Buffy burst out laughing.
The redhead edged back at that, turning to the werewolf in startled confusion.
“I-is she a vampire?” she whispered.
“No,” he replied. “But she does look abnormally happy.”
“Harmony was with Spike,” Buffy retorted. “It’s…god, Will, it’s a long story. A
very long…you’re-not-even-gonna-believe-me story. And I can’t get into it now.”
She squeezed her lover’s hand. “But I’m…this is…Spike and I are together. And…we
have been for a while.”
“You what?”
“Couple years,” Spike acknowledged with a grin.
“Huh?” She turned to Oz again. “Am I crazy?”
“I always preferred the term quirky,” he replied with a lazy shrug.
“Buffy—”
“Long story,” the Slayer said again. “Spike and I are together…I’ll tell you all
about it later. Right now…” She turned to the vampire again. “We wanna…go
somewhere and…”
“Have more sex?”
Everyone glanced to Oz, who shrugged again.
“Werewolf,” he said, tapping his nose.
“Strange Anya-like bloke,” Spike drawled.
“Anya? The vengeance demon?” Willow frowned. “Xander’s prom date?”
“Long story. Later.” Buffy tugged on Spike’s hand again. “We’re gonna go make
with the…”
“Shaga-reunion-athon,” the vampire concluded. “We’re off.” He stopped, though,
when he noticed the look in the redhead’s eyes. “Trust me, pet…an’ I know that’s
not easy. The Slayer’s not steerin’ you wrong. It is a long story…we’re still
tryin’ to figure out how we ended up here. But…I’ll bring her back in one piece.
Couldn’t stand it if anythin’ happened to her.”
“You guys know this sounds…”
“Yeah, well, it’s gonna get weirder before it makes sense,” Buffy said. “I’ll
come home tonight and talk about it.”
Spike pouted at that and kicked at the ground.
“And then, you know, leave again.” She curled her arm around her lover’s middle
and snuggled into his side. “It’s okay. I just can’t get into it now. We’re
still…you’ll understand when I tell you.”
The look in Willow’s eyes portrayed a disinclination to agree. But she did not
object as the vampire and the Slayer took off like newlyweds.
She turned to Oz and released a deep breath. “We can’t tell Xander,” she said.
“No, that would not be a good idea.”
Buffy, meanwhile, found herself torn from an emotional collapse.
“I wasn’t ready for that,” she said, squeezing Spike’s hand. “I…”
“We’ll talk it out, sweetling.”
“We’re not hiding from anyone.”
He smiled at that and brushed a kiss across her brow. “Whatever you want.”
But it wasn’t whatever she wanted; it wasn’t solely about her. She was a half of
a whole now. Her decisions were Spike’s as well.
She wasn’t ready to face the bigotry of the Scoobies.
Tonight, she wanted to curl in Spike’s arms. Tonight she wanted to claim him as
hers, and disregard the rest. She knew what tomorrow would bring. There were no
surprises. Tomorrow, she would have fought Spike in the sunlight.
Tomorrow, she would see him walk in the sunlight. He would be her mate, and she
his.
Her priorities were different now. Everything else could wait. If only a day,
she would enjoy her recaptured heaven.
And cherish it before the storm.
Cat And The Fiddle
“I don’ have to be here,” Spike said as Buffy fiddled with the door to her dorm.
It was so strange standing in the hall of her old room, faces her memory had
shaded and filed with a thousand others. “Really, pet, ‘f you think you need to
talk this up to Red, it might be better ‘f I’m—”
“No,” she retorted, tightening her hand around his. “We’re gonna do this right
from the beginning. We’re together, we tell her together.”
“Are we sure we wanna tell ‘em at all?”
A long sigh tore through her throat. “I don’t want to spend a long time
justifying my relationship with you. In fact, I don’t wanna spend any
time justifying my relationship with you. That’s stupid, and I shouldn’t have
to. I love you, you love me, and that’s all anyone should ever have to know
about us.”
Spike smiled and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Have I mentioned how much
I love this new outlook you’ve taken on?”
“I’m not eighteen.”
“Well, technically…”
“I’m twenty-two years old. I was going to be twenty-three on my next birthday,
but now I’m not, because I’ll be nineteen instead. But I have four more years
experience on my shoulders, and while my body will never catch up with my mind,
that experience is still there. I’m not going to revert to the way I was because
I’m here.” She shook her head. “If anything, my mind is going to turn
twenty-three and continue to age four years ahead of my body for the rest of
eternity. So here I am, twenty-two year old me outside my old dorm and I’m about
to go inside and tell Willow, who is eighteen both physically and mentally,
about why I’m with you and how I’m not gonna take any crap for it.”
“I love you so much.”
Her legs went weak. “I love you, too.”
“After so many years, I can still make you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Become jello-legged.”
She chuckled and twisted, her back pressed to her door, her arms automatically
sliding around his throat. “Always. I’m just better about showing it now.”
Spike’s lips danced over hers provocatively. “I’ll say.”
“We should really go inside now.”
“So I don’ shag you senseless in this public hallway?”
“Well, I was going to say to talk to Willow about why you’re about to shag me
senseless against our dorm room door. The not-getting-arrested thing is just a
perk.”
“Super strength,” her boyfriend pointed out, his mouth dropping to her throat.
“You could bust us outta the joint.”
“Yeah, or we could go inside, talk with Will, then find some place to spend all
night engaged in uninterrupted sexcapades.”
“Mmm…” His teeth teased the bite mark on her throat sensually. “Like your
thinkin’.”
“Yeah.”
“Mmkay. Let’s do this, then.”
A breath shuddered through her body as he moved away, and she nodded with a
forced smile. “Yeah,” she said. “Okay. Here we go.”
She turned again and resumed her fight with the door. There had been a trick to
get the lock to turn that she had forgotten in the long course of having so many
more important things to worry about. It didn’t matter, though. In seconds,
Willow had thrown the door open, her eyes wide and confused…and a little less
than thrilled to see Spike at her side.
“Okay…”
“Sorry, Will,” Buffy said with an awkward smile, though her tone was anything
but apologetic. “I have…Spike and I decided that it would be better if we told
you together.”
“H-he can’t c-come in here.”
“Oh yes he can.” Buffy glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled. “Did you
have an invite?”
“Not until after I came back, pet,” he answered with a soft grin.
Willow was thoroughly lost. “Huh?”
“Remember?” the vampire continued. “It was after the Initiative put the chip in
my head, an’ I came here to kill you. Right after Wolfie…” He cut off abruptly
and cast Willow an apologetic glance before turning back to his Slayer. “No,
sweetheart, I don’ have an invite.”
“By the way, that Initiative thing? They come near your head, and I’m going to
lay the place to waste.”
He smiled. “No chips ahoy?”
“Not in this lifetime.”
“D-do vamps n-need invites f-for dorms?” the redhead demanded.
“It’s our place, so yeah.” Buffy glanced back to Spike. “Come in.”
“Buffy!”
“It’s okay, Will. It’s really okay.”
“I’m so confused.”
“Yeah.” The Slayer nodded. “I know. And it’s going to sound crazy when I try to
explain it…but…” A long sigh rolled off her shoulders, and her hand immediately
sought Spike’s, her body relaxing only when his fingers curled around hers. She
tugged him closer to her before leading him to her bed. They sat side-by-side,
and watched quietly as a very distrustful Willow followed course and returned to
her own mattress.
Then they were sitting across from each other, encased in silence.
Spike squeezed Buffy’s hand. “She looks like she’s gonna crack at any second,”
he murmured. “Luv, why don’…”
The Slayer nodded. “Yeah. Ummm…Will…what would you say if I told you I woke up
this morning in Italy?”
There was a long pause. “I’d…umm…say that’s a little strange.” Her eyes darted
to the vampire, then to the couple’s clasped hands. “But right now, I’m ready to
believe about anything.”
“How about…you were there, too? You and…Kennedy…and Giles, and Dawn…only Dawn’s
in school now…and Xander—”
“Who…Dawn? Kennedy? Do I know a guy named Kennedy?”
Spike smothered a grin.
“No. Not yet.” Not ever, if all goes right. “And Dawn…Dawn you’ll meet in
a few months.”
“Okay…”
“She’s my sister.”
Willow’s eyes went wide. “You have a sister?”
“Not right now, no. Right now, sitting here, I am the only child my parents ever
had.”
“So your mom…” A strange look overwhelmed the redhead’s face. “Did your mom…and
Giles…did they…dance to the tune of the funky monkey again and make with the—”
“Eww! No!”
There was a rumble of disgust from the vampire at her side. “Nice word picture
there, Red.”
“Sorry, I just—”
“Dawn is fourteen.”
“And she doesn’t exist yet?”
“No.”
The redhead licked her lips. “Okay…that’s bizarre.”
Buffy nodded. “Will, when I woke up this morning, it was 2003 in late September,
and we were in Europe because the Hellmouth was gone.” She squeezed Spike’s hand
and prayed for strength. Even with her lover sitting beside her, with his body
right next to hers, her skin tingling still with their earlier lovemaking, the
shadow of the life she had awoken with that morning would take years to
overcome. “Will…about three and a half hours ago, I was propelled back in time.”
The silence in the room was so thick, she swore she could see it manifesting
before her eyes. A sticky, bulky substance of silence. Willow was staring at her
like she had completely lost her mind, but there was something else. Some will
to understand. Some knowledge crammed among logic that told her, quite plainly,
that this was Sunnydale—this was a place of vampires, demons, and the girl
Chosen to end all. This was the place where the impossible was made possible,
and to write off something as impractical was the biggest faux pas one could
make.
“You’re…you’re from the future.” A pause. “Both of you.”
“Yeah.”
“So…in the future…” She eyed Spike. “You two…”
“Yeah.” Buffy squeezed her lover’s hand again. “Well, no. Spike and I had…god,
that story’s so much longer than how we got here.”
The vampire smiled softly. “Lemme take this one, pet,” he said, turning back to
the timid redhead. “’Bout three years ago…or a year from now…” He frowned. “Yeh,
that’s gonna get confusin’. Anyway, I got this chip in my head that kept me from
bitin’ humanly types. Came back to kill the Slayer, got all chipped up, an’
stayed in SunnyD. Fell in love with her…oh bloody hell, the better word is
realized. I realized I was in love with her three years ago. Buffy
din’t take too kindly to that.”
Willow’s eyes fell to their clasped hands again.
“Okay,” Buffy said, shifting. “Here’s how it goes. I died.”
A pained gasp tore through the air. “You died?”
Spike’s eyes were glued to the ground. She could feel him; could feel the
tension wrought through his body. The sorrow, the quiet that always overwhelmed
him whenever the period of her death was mentioned. Buffy brushed a kiss over
his shoulder to reassure him of her presence, and the tone of the room, as well
as the obvious affection between the two blondes wasn’t lost on Willow. She saw
everything, and though her emotions were still wrapped around horror at her
friend’s admission, her heart softened with something akin to understanding.
“Yeah,” the Slayer replied a minute later. “I died.”
“I don’t…then…how did…” The redhead shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I jumped off a tower to save the world. And then you brought me back.”
“I what?”
“Bloody powerful witch,” Spike observed. “You brought her back. An’ you din’t
tell me. More than that, you tore her outta Heaven. You—”
“Sweetie…”
“I jus’…”
“I…I tore you out of Heaven?” Willow’s eyes filled with tears. “Why…oh God, why
would I do something like that?”
“You thought I wasn’t in Heaven.”
“Oh.”
The knowledge wasn’t resting well with the redhead, and that was fine with
Buffy. It had never rested well with her.
“Anyway, when I was…out of Heaven…when I was back, I started spending a lot of
time with Spike. It turned into sex, sex turned into violence…pretty much me
beating up on him because I was so pissed off at you and everyone else and I
hated myself…and Spike didn’t hate me. Spike loved me…no matter what I
did to him.”
Her vision was going blurry. She had spent so much of the past few weeks crying
her eyes out—with Spike’s death, with today in rediscovering bliss in his arms,
with recounting all the wrongs in her past, and finally, for granting and
accepting forgiveness. She loved him so much. She loved him more than she could
even begin to fathom; more than she thought she could love. Long ago, she had
thought she had no more love to give. The First Slayer had told her she was full
of love, and she was right. It had just taken death, rebirth, and Spike to
unlock it.
And now, she was swimming in love. She was besieged in love. It was unlike
anything she had ever felt, and she would never again let it go. Not without a
fight.
She would not go quietly. Spike was with her. Spike loved her, and that was all
that mattered.
“What you…did to him?”
“Don’t,” Spike said shortly. “She…we’ve already been through this, pet. Buffy
an’ I have come to an understandin’ about that. She hurt me, I hurt her…” He
shuddered. “But I’ve…we talked it through. I did somethin’ unforgivable an’ left
town…to get a soul so it wouldn’t happen again.” He paused. “Because I needed to
be a better man for her. I came back, an’ I was a li’l crazy…an’ Buffy
somehow…she forgave me for what I’d done.”
“What did you do?”
Buffy squeezed her lover’s hand again. “It’s not important, Will.”
“But I—”
“It’s personal. You never need to know about it. And it won’t happen again.” She
shook her head. “We don’t…Spike and I grew close last year while the First Evil
was trying to destroy the world.”
“The First Evil? That thing that…last Christmas, with Angel?”
The vampire at her side growled lightly at the mention of her first love.
“Yeah, that First Evil.”
“Did we win?”
A pained sigh rattled her body, and she nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “We won. Spike
sacrificed himself, and we won. And I somehow…I made a wish to Anya, and now
we’re back. We’re here. We can…we’re back where we were when things started
going wrong. Back when…”
Willow’s eyes went wide. “Anya? Whoa, wait…she becomes a vengeance demon again?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Buffy!”
“It doesn’t matter.” Buffy rose to her feet. “Look, Willow…I have absolutely no
intention of telling you every detail. I don’t even care right now if you
believe me. I know it sounds wacky, and you have every right to write me off as
having gone completely mental, if you like. I’m not. I’m with Spike. I’ve
already done the hurty, hidden torrid love affair thing, and it doesn’t work.
We’ve been through this and you haven’t. If I tell you what happened…I just
don’t see any good coming from it. All I can do is hope that the knowledge Spike
and I have will be enough to change the bad and enhance the good.” She paused.
“I also have no intention of…I never forgave you for ripping me out of
Heaven…but that’s not your fault. Right now, this moment…I’m going to try
to not be the sort of person who would hold grudges for things that haven’t
happened. That might not happen now.”
Willow nodded, her eyes distant and dazed. “D-do…do you know…is your…can you
change…your dying?”
“Better bloody believe it,” Spike growled. “You think I’d willingly go through
that again? That I’d let myself jus’…that I’d let Buffy…” He shook his head
furiously. “’S not happenin’. I don’ care if I have to slaughter everyone in
this miserable town, I’m not losin’ her again.”
An uneasy look worried the redhead’s gaze. “A-and you’re sure that he’s
all…soulful?”
Buffy offered a wry grin. “He’s not like Angel, Will.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“I mean…Spike as you knew him and Spike plus soul are pretty much the same
person…only this one has a conscience that’s not defined just by what I would
want him to do.” She edged closer to her boyfriend self-consciously. “But they
both love me…and I love them both. Monster and man combined and separate.”
“God, pet…”
Willow licked her lips. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to tell me
everything…and when I say this is hard to digest, yeah, I am considering the
possibility that the both of you have completely lost your minds or are planning
your April Fools Joke way in advance…but okay.”
The blondes exchanged a glance, then looked back to her. “Okay?” they said
together.
She nodded. “Okay. I’m not saying this makes me wanna do the Snoopy Dance or
that I can say…you guys have been through a lot, it seems.”
“Understatement of the bloody century,” Spike muttered.
“More than a lot,” Buffy acknowledged.
“And…well, Giles isn’t going to accept the ‘shut up and get over it’ approach,
and Xander’s gonna pull a massive wig…and if Angel ever finds out, well…let’s
just say I’m happy that I’ve stuck to naming the fishies at the pet store
instead of taking them home.” Willow smiled slightly. “So, okay. You’ll have me
and Oz rooting for you.”
“The wolf’ll accept this?” Spike arched a brow. “Jus’ like that?”
The redhead shrugged. “He’s not a complicated guy. Or…he is, but not about
complicated things…like that.”
Buffy smiled gratefully and rose to her feet, moving forward to take her friend
in her arms. “Thanks, Will,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”
“I still think there’s a distinct possibility that you’re completely nuts.”
“That’s okay.”
“Okay.” Willow pulled away reluctantly, tossing a glance to the vampire. “What
was that about a chip?”
“There will be no chip.”
“Okay. I was just—”
“And we know who the commando guys are.”
“Well, that’s good, because I didn’t know there were commando guys.”
“Yeah.” Buffy’s smile broadened. “Okay. Well…we’re gonna go…find some place to
stay for the night.”
“Is there no place?”
“Well, Spike’s crypt has yet to be made up and…well…” She shrugged. “We can find
a hotel or something.” She shared a look with her boyfriend. “We could always go
to the mansion.”
“Why can’t you two go home?” They tossed her an identical glance that read
plainly what they intended to do when they were alone again. Willow flushed
brightly and looked down. “Or, you know, that could be a very bad idea.”
“Yeh, li’l bit.”
“Very bad,” Buffy agreed.
“The mansion…” Spike’s eyes stormed over. “Not the best memories there, pet.”
“For either of us…but for reasons that no longer apply. You hated it because of
Angel and Dru, and I hated it because of Angel.” A pause. “Unless you’re still
hung up on—”
“Don’ even think it, sweetling.”
Willow grinned slightly. “You two are so cute.”
“Hey!”
“Oi!”
“Well, you are.” Her grin only widened. “And Spike…if you don’t mind…I’d like a
word alone with Buffy.”
The vampire’s face fell. “Red—”
“Girl stuff,” she explained.
“She wants to ask about you,” Buffy said. “About…stuff.”
A flash of exaggerated terror washed over Spike’s face, but dissolved just as
quickly for the look that the Slayer shot him in reassurance. “Right, right,” he
agreed after a second, hands going up in surrender. “’ll be outside.”
“At the end of the hall,” Willow said, tugging at her ear. “I know you…vamps.”
Spike again glanced to Buffy for her verdict, and pouted when she nodded.
“Bloody women.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised, brushing a kiss across his lips.
“Don’ particularly wanna let you outta my sight, baby,” he murmured. “Don’ wanna
chance—”
“I know,” she said. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Right.” He kissed her again, then pressed his lips to the claim mark on her
throat. “Don’ be long…please.”
“I won’t.”
It was a strange sensation, watching him leave the room. Feeling him leave.
Whether it be the weight of her feelings or the claim that was half-complete,
she felt sliced in two without him beside her. The sensation was large and
frightening, but strangely, more reassuring than anything else that had happened
tonight. It existed. Like the night itself, the feeling existed. It was
something where nothing had lived for weeks. Something where nothing had
threatened to consume her.
Spike would be there when she walked outside. She knew it, because this was
real.
“Okay,” the redhead said hurriedly. “He is just the cutest thing!”
Buffy threw her head back in laughter. “Willow!”
“Well, he is! He’s all attentive and sweet and with the moon eyes. Seriously,
never thought that would be something I’d say to describe Spike, of all people,
but…” Her friend had a girlish excitement about her that had died during the
year Anya had given them to relive. This was the Willow that Buffy had missed.
The ‘tell me all the goodies’ Willow that wanted all the juicy, yummy details of
her assorted male-related encounters.
There would be some hard decisions coming up. Namely, was she going to allow Oz
to go ahead and break her friend’s heart, knowing how that ended? Tara was one
of the sweetest girls in the world, and Buffy loved her dearly. But was it
better to prevent them from meeting and assuredly eradicate all possibility of
Tara’s death at the hand of Warren? Despite her plans to have the Trio arrested
after the first of their lame crimes, Buffy knew not to chance that changing one
thing didn’t mean the problem would go away completely. But if Tara never
entered their lives, she couldn’t be killed by someone who was after the Slayer.
She would never know Willow, either, and Buffy wasn’t ready to say that was a
good thing. Or a bad thing. Tara’s family would still come after her, and she
would still think she was a demon. On the other hand, Willow with Tara was also
dangerous. The two had a healthy relationship, sure, but it had spurred the
redhead’s addiction. It had driven her to madness with a magical twist, and had
ultimately almost ended the world.
There were so many things she didn’t know. So many things she didn’t want to
chance. And playing with fate was the last of her intentions.
She would discuss it with Spike. They were a whole now, after all. And Spike had
a perspective on life that only age and experience could provide. He would know
what to do.
“So, tonight was the big reunion? You hadn’t seen him since…”
“Since…yeah. We were outside and then I saw him…and knew. I knew who I
was and who he was, and that I loved him. And I knew that he knew. It was fast,
and we both thought we were dreaming…”
The redhead’s eyes flashed with excitement. “So you guys just…leapt at each
other?”
Buffy’s cheeks reddened. “Pretty much. When Spike…before he died, after he had a
soul, we hadn’t…done anything. You know? He was back and we were rebuilding our
relationship, and we’d reached something that was…almost beyond anything that…it
was just real. It was real, hard love. But we didn’t do anything until the night
before the apocalypse. I knew it was the last time…somehow I knew. And we made
love, and the next day before he died, I told him I loved him for the first
time, and he didn’t believe me.”
“Oh!”
“And then he died.” She had started crying again without even realizing it. “And
I was…these past…being without him after that was just…and when I saw him, I
thought fate was dangling him in front of me to be mean…but then it was real and
we…”
Willow smiled. “Well, you’ve got me on your side. We’ll have to work on Giles
and Xan, but I’ll seriously go all wicked witchy on them if they give you
grief.”
That was almost terrifying, but Buffy forced a grateful smile.
She had absolutely no way of knowing.
“Thanks, Will. I really appreciate it.”
And she did. Despite all else, despite the messiness she knew the future was
capable of bringing, she definitely appreciated what was given to her now. The
calm acceptance of her best friend and the promise of the relationship they
could recover.
The relationship Willow, for the most part, didn’t know was in jeopardy.
Buffy was more than eager to step out of the old dorm room. She wouldn’t be able
to live there anymore. An apartment, even the mansion…some place that wasn’t
related to this part of her life at the time at which she had originally lived
it. Some place where she and Spike could start again. She wanted a place for
them, not a place buried in old memories made new.
He was waiting for her at the other end of the hall, relief swarming his eyes
when he saw her again. Immediately, he prowled for her and swooped her into his
arms, hugging her close as though they had been apart for months.
“Don’ wanna do that again.”
“Talk to Willow?”
“Let you outta my sight.” He kissed her needily, his thumbs caressing circles
into her cheeks. “At leas’ not for the first year or so, after I’m ready to
accept that this isn’t going anywhere.”
She smiled and rested her head against his chest. “You ready to go?”
“To the mansion?”
“Unless there’s somewhere better.”
His arms around her tightened. “No, luv. Seems rather fittin’.” He pulled back
just slightly and grinned. “Back to the beginnin’, right? Our beginnin’. Let’s
start off on the right foot this time.”
Her insides warmed. “Sounds perfect.”
And it did. It sounded absolutely perfect.
Tonight was the eve of their beginning. Tomorrow would be the start of the rest
of their lives together.
And she was determined. This time they would get it right. Their follies would
be shared; their celebrations would be each other’s.
Tomorrow was the beginning of that.
Tonight they would seal the past by going back to the beginning, and setting the
footstones of their future together.
To be concluded in Part Five: Falling From The Stars…
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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