Part 7: Hope

//My angel be, have I lost my mind
I don't care, you’re here tonight.//



The pair walked slowly down the aisle, hand in hand as they passed the rows of wooden settees, hard enough to cause much discomfort, but sturdy and useful enough for a person to pray in . . . nothing more and nothing less.


A blind priest waited in front of the altar, his eyes white with only a hint of gray where his irises would have been. He wore a white robe and a gentle smile on his wrinkled face, full of wisdom and years. A man who had lived many days, had done many weddings just like this, simple and old fashioned with only the bride and the groom there. And he still managed to get excited whenever it happened.


Light from the stained glass windows spilled like kaleidoscope on the old wood floors, lighting it up like a carnival of colors, a hidden secret in such a peaceful and quiet place.


Two quiet nuns, as old as the priest himself, stood in the background as their witnesses. And they watched with soft expressions on their gentle and withered faces as the couple stood before the priest, an ethereal glow seemingly surrounding them, a shine of their own happiness and anticipation.


They were a handsome couple. The charming boy with the strange and foreign accent, the beautiful girl, so small was her stature, but made up for it with her obvious strength.


The young woman, Buffy, was petite in size, wearing an uncomplicated white dress made of silk. It clung to her body, and draped enticingly off her shoulders. It was pretty contrast from her tanned skin. Her hair was a mass of soft golden curls that tumbled in waves down her back.


The man, Spike, as he wanted to be called, wore a black jacket over a white shirt with the first two buttons undone, showing off an expanse of smooth pale skin. He was at least 7 . . . maybe 8 more inches taller than her with a small build.


“We are gathered here today . . . to unite this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the priest began in a raspy yet steady voice.


Spike stared at Buffy, she looked so beautiful . . . and he couldn’t believe they were getting married. Here. In this church, practically in the middle of the desert with one blind priest and three nuns. Two which were standing in the background, smiling, and one sitting in the piano.


He smiled, and Buffy grinned back at him.


They were finally tying the knot, and the two of them couldn’t have been any happier.


The priest and the soft music of the old piano tuned out of their ears. It was only them. Blue and hazel melded, sparking in an intimate dance of the bond that connected them.


“Do you, William ‘Spike’ Brodery take Buffy Summers as your lawful wedded wife. To have and to hold, to cherish in sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part?” the priest finally asked.


“I do,” he smiled, still staring at Buffy as though she was the only person in the church.


“And do you, Buffy Summer, take William ‘Spike’ Brodery as your lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold, to cherish in sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part?”


“I do,” she said softly.


“Now . . . take the rings and repeat after me . . . “


The rest of the wedding was a complete blur. Their vows and promises were stated, the simple gold wedding bands were exchanged . . . and by the time it had come to a close, Spike and Buffy were on cloud nine.


“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce husband and wife. You may now kiss . . . ” but before the priest could end his sentence, the sound of lips meeting reached his ears.


He let out a hearty chuckle as Spike lips sought out Buffy’s in an erotic dance of tongues and mouths.


“Good luck to the two of you.”

“Thank you, Father,” Buffy said breathlessly after pulling away from Spike.


//I can be your hero baby
I can kiss away the pain
(Oh yeah)//


Angel gazed at the white wash building long and hard. A cross, large enough to be seen, small enough not to intimidate those who see it, stood peacefully and silently at the top. The simple windows needed much cleaning from the dust that had collected on it throughout the years, and the convertible parked right outside was more than enough NOT to ease Angel‘s suspicion or anger.

It didn’t take a genius to know what exactly Buffy and Spike were doing inside the church. The girl at the motel said enough . . . and the building was a sufficient proof as well.

They got married.

And that infuriated him more than he could possibly imagine, for it should have been him who had married Buffy instead of that bleached blonde ass he had considered a friend as well as a colleague.


Spike was dead. There was no doubting it any longer. Not only did he steal his money, he had stolen his woman and had married her. The fucker would pay for his crimes against him.

When Spike came into his world, he knew that he would be playing in his playground . . . playing by his rules. And he did it consciously. He was well and healthy. Not drunk or starving. He knew what he was getting into. And the asshole had the balls to break a regulation, rule number one, which would be ‘Betrayal.’


“Boss?”


“What!” Angel snapped impatiently.

The minion stepped back and gulped nervously. No one crossed the boss’ path. Death wasn’t and issue that Angel scoffed at or felt was morally wrong. If someone needed to die, then that person was as good as dead. Nothing would stop him from killing anybody. How Spike was able to run from Angel for this long, he wasn’t sure. But the British man still wasn’t lucky. They had still caught him in the end.


“Shouldn’t we go in?”

“We wait here,” Angel growled.

Part 8: Burn
 

//I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away//


The sun was still high above the sky when Spike and Buffy left the church, their hands held firmly together as they ran towards their car laughing. Spike lifted her in his arms and spun her around, inhaling the scent of vanilla and sweat in her hair.

Spike caressed her face, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers as he gazed into her smoldering hazel eyes.

They were married. They were finally married.

Hi smile widened and he kissed her soft pink lips, amazed that they were at last together under the name of God. They were husband and wife. He could practically see the white picket fence and little children running around with the dog in their backyard in the horizon of their future.

“You ready to make a bunch of babies?” he asked her teasingly. “A whole pack of them?”

She laughed. “You think you can handle a pregnant me?” she asked.

“I think I can . . . If I can handle you now,” he taunted and kissed her cheek for compensation as images of Buffy‘s stomach bulging with life came across his mind, making his grin widen.

“You’re a bad and rude man,” she smirked.

“Punish me,” he retorted back.

But their fantasy and light teasing came to a quick halt when Buffy suddenly gasped, pulling Spike out of his daydreaming. He looked down at her curiously, her eyes wide with fear and shock. “Buffy?“ he asked softly.

She hugged him closer in reply, clutching at him as though if she let go, she’ll loose him forever. He turned his head to find Angel standing a few meters away from them, looking quite smug and more than a little angry.

They had been caught, and there was nothing they could do about it. Buffy gazed at Spike, worried and a bit panicky. He grabbed her hand as though he had read her thoughts as his jaws clenched in fury and concern. There was nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. If they bolted now, they would catch them and be in a greater danger than they were already in.

The two of them were once again trapped within the confines of Angel’s of Angel’s world, with his rules and his punishments. And in this world, there was no mercy . . . and definitely no second chances.

His minions surrounded him, ready to back him up if needed . . . which wasn’t really necessary since there was that certain murderous gleam in his chocolate brown eyes. And whenever he got like that, there was no stopping him.

“Hello, William,” Angel greeted coldly, causing Buffy to shudder as Spike gently pushed her behind his body. “Buffy . . . still lovely after two and a half weeks of not seeing you,” the darker and older man followed with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Spike smirked. “Angel, where have you been? We were expecting you a bit more earlier, mate,” he teased.

The other man scowled. “Nice try,” he replied through clenched teeth, trying to keep his temper at a minimum low, saving it when he finally got his hands on the bleach blond ass.

“Try?” Spike chuckled, “I didn’t have to try, Peaches.“ Then sneered, “Cause I got the girl.”

“Don’t mock him,” Buffy whispered in a pleading tone as she desperately looked at her husband and back at Angel‘s furious stature. He was ready to kill someone, namely the man who she stood with now. “Spike . . . please.”

His jaws clenched. She was right . . . she always managed to be right. But he took pleasure in Angel’s hurt, thrived on the way he was staring at Buffy in need . . . and knowing he could never reach her when he was there standing between them. The only blockade that separated him and Buffy. And there was no way in hell he was going to go down without a fight.

“It’s time for a face off, Spike,” Angel sneered, “Who ever wins . . . gets the girl . . . permanently.”

Spike leered back at him. “Too bad I already won her.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Buffy mumbled to Spike with a glare, not appreciating the fact that the two males were taking about her as though she was some sort of trophy or plaything to be won like a prize.

Spike turned and smirked at her before capturing her lips in a sweet kiss full of intensity and hot blistering passion. His tongue traced her mouth with preciseness that caused Buffy’s knees to buckle beneath her. His arms wrapped around her waist before she could fall to the sandy ground.

He pulled away, leaving the both of them breathless as they tried to gain some sense of composure. Spike smiled and caressed her cheek, noting the way her eyes were closed as she panted.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.

Buffy obeyed and met with his blue ones. “I love you,” she said softly, trying hard to hold back the tears.

This was it . . . and they both knew it, felt it in their bones without comprehending it. They weren’t sure exactly of what was to come, but they knew that this was the end without completely realizing it.

“I love you too,” Spike whispered.

“Grab her,” Angel ordered, gritting his teeth at the sight of his woman in another man‘s arms.


//I can be your hero
I can kiss away the pain//


“NO!” Buffy screamed as Angel’s minions stalked towards the pair with a deathly gleam in their cold eyes.

Spike stepped forward, challenging them with a look of iciness on his face and danger in his tall stature. He recognized Xander and Riley, who used to be his good friends when he was still working for Angel. They stared at him with unbound anger and a hint of guilt in their eyes of what was to happen to him.

“Move outta the way, Spike,” Xander said through clenched teeth, “Or she WILL get hurt.”

“You don’t have the balls to hurt her,” Spike snapped, the muscles in his temple twitching from the sheer determination to protect the person he loved the most.

“You wanna bet?” Riley asked with a smirk as he raised a gun towards Buffy’s head.

“Don’t,” Spike growled and closed his eyes in utter defeat. His jaws clenched in anger and fury as thoughts swiftly ran through his mind. It was time to make a decision, and he had to choose wisely. He would rather keep and see Buffy alive and well. He stared down at the ground in assent.

This was it. The last time they would be together. And he knew it. But was he able to accept it? They just got married for God’s sakes. He had this undeniable wish that they would actually get a happily ever after. But fate had different plans. And destiny had her cruelty.

“Spike?” Buffy’s voice wavered as she stared at him in utter shock. He was letting her get taken away!

Xander grinned. “Grab her,” the brunette ordered Riley, who smirked once again before quickly obeying as he snatched Buffy by the arms as he led her struggling and screaming body towards Angel.

“No! Stop! Get off of me!” she shouted at the top of her lungs as she gazed at Spike with tears in her hazel eyes. But he did nothing as Riley and Xander pulled her struggling body away from her husband.

Angel roughly grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, his face contorted in an angry sneer. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Buff,” he said through clenched teeth, trying to control his fury. “Your punishment will come later,” he growled, “But we’ll start with Spike first . . . and I’m gonna make you watch.”

She heightened her struggles as she glared at him with fire in her eyes.

Angel grinned impishly before waving her away. His brown eyes then locked with Spike’s blue eyes and the battle had begun. He motioned for the younger man to walk towards him, but before he did, Spike clenched his teeth and gazed at Buffy with a sorrowful gaze, increasing the woman‘s resisted and fought more violently against those who held her back.

“Do not look at her!” Angel ordered in a stern voice.

Spike’s eyes snapped back towards Angel. “Get your ass here,” he said.

The bleached blond stepped forward, his stride sure and at a medium pace, even though in his own mind it seemed as though it was taking forever to get to Angel. He tried not to look at Buffy when he passed her, keeping his eyes firmly locked with older man’s eyes . . . even though his thoughts were with the blond that held his beating heart in her hands . . . in her soul.

“Give me your best shot,” Angel remarked snidely.

Spike didn’t give it any other second thought when he punched Angel square on the jaw, the loud hit seemingly echoing in the quiet and still desert. His minions tensed, waiting for the opportunity to attack the man.


But Angel did nothing except order for a large black baton.

“NO!” he specifically heard Buffy scream before the steel stick came crashing down against his head. A kick against his stomach followed, and then another beating with the baton.

The only thought in his mind was that of Buffy . . . and how much he loved her . . . and how much he was going to miss her soft kisses and her smiles, her warmth and her embrace, her silky golden hair . . . the way she grumbled sleepily in the morning, the way she would shiver when he touched the small of her back, the way she managed to make eating ice-cream and any other type of food the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed, the way the sun glinted off her skin . . . and most of all . . . her love . . . her love . . .

Part 9: Life

 

//And I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away//


The broken young woman sobbed over the bleach-blonde’s beaten form, her shoulders shaking . . . her heart breaking. Her white dress that had been so clean and neat clung to her body like second skin as rain poured down on her from the sky. The headlights from the police cars shone over them, like a spotlight on Juliet and her Romeo. A tragic love affair . . . a waste of love.


Buffy’s tears mingled with the water, and the cold seeped through her skin making her shiver from the cold . . . or from the inevitable, she wasn’t sure, nor did she care. All she did was grasp at her lover’s hand, clinging to it as though it would be able to save him . . . but she knew better . . . they both did.

The police officers who had arrived on the scene gazed at the pair with pity in their eyes. Even Angel, who was being handcuffed, showed his sadness as he watched his love with another man . . . a dying man. He should be happy . . . smiling, but he wasn’t, not when Buffy’s face was crumpled in pain, and not when her love was slowly dying.

An officer non-too gently pushed him inside one of the cars, and Angel let him without a fight . . . and they all watched on, waiting for what was to come . . . How cruel that sounded to their ears.


Spike tried to smile at his love . . . his angel . . . his life . . . but it hurt too much as his face throbbed in pain. He knew, from the look in her eyes, he was a scary sight to behold . . . and it was only a matter of time before . . . everything ended. The blood he could taste on his lips, and the way Buffy cried out her sorrow was all he needed to know that his future did not look good at this very moment.

He stared up at his wife . . . “This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my honeymoon,” he tried to laugh off.

“Shh,” she cried as she tightly closed her eyes, pressing her fingers delicately against his swollen lips, “You’re gonna be fine,” she tried to assure him.

Tears spilled forth from his eyes, but Buffy didn’t notice since the rain continued to shower down on them, crying its own tears at the tragedy of it all.

Spike wanted so much to believe her as he stared deep into her eyes. He had never wanted to cause her any pain . . . “I love you,” he whispered brokenly with a small smile that was so hard to give her in his state, but for her . . . anything was possible. “I love you so much . . . Never forget that.”

“Oh, God . . . Spike,” she sobbed, “Don’t leave me. Please . . . “

“I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled at her, trying to engrave her beautiful face deeper into his mind and his heart, “I’ll always be with you.”

She was losing him. “Don’t do that!” she cried in a futile attempt to deny what fate had in store for him . . . for them.

“Don’t love you?” he tried to laugh, but choked on his words instead, “I can’t help it, pet. Don’t want to,” he gasped as he felt his last seconds slowly slip away. “Do me a favor, luv.”



“Anything,” Buffy whispered, kissing his knuckles as tears and rain mingled together on her stricken face.


“Live . . . for me . . . “


//You can take my breath away//


The sun blazed brightly above the sky, a ball of fire shining its intensifying heat upon them as a light blue convertible stopped in the middle of the desert, in front of a solitary white church.


A young woman stepped out of the car and gazed at the building with sad eyes, taking off her sunglasses. She then smiled and placed a hand on her growing abdomen before turning to look out into the vast desert.


<<“What are you thinkin’ about?” Spike suddenly asked.


“How much I want to jump you,” she quietly said with a small chuckle.


“We do too much of that, pet,” Spike stated, his smile never leaving his face at the feel of her so close.>>


<<Buffy looked at Spike. “When everything gets settled down, I wanna live in the desert,” she said and began twirling a strand of her hair, “Just you . . . me . . . the sun, the sand, and a whole lotta cactus,” she smiled.


Spike grinned. “Won’t you get sick of the heat?” he asked her.


She shook her head as she daydreamed about the future. “No, I kinda like you hot and sweaty.”


“Oh yeah, and the smell goes well with it too,” he replied.>>


<<“Marry me,” Spike suddenly stated, lifting his head to meet her eyes.


“What?” Buffy exclaimed, sitting up and staring at Spike’s serious and intense blues orbs.


“Marry me,” he repeated.


“You’re joking . . . right?” Buffy asked worriedly.


“You don’t want to marry me?” Spike countered back with a frown.


“I didn’t say that . . . “ she said uneasily.


“Then marry me.”>>


<<“Do you, William ‘Spike’ Brodery take Buffy Summers as your lawful wedded wife. To have and to hold, to cherish in sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part?” the priest finally asked.

“I do,” he smiled, still staring at Buffy as though she was the only person in the church.

“And do you, Buffy Summer, take William ‘Spike’ Brodery as your lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold, to cherish in sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part?”

“I do,” she said softly.>>


She fought back the tears as she recollected those short lived days when they were together after they ran from Angel. They had been so happy . . . so free, and the future seemed bright and endless.

Months after Spike’s death, it was still hard to grasp the fact that her lover was gone, her husband . . . her best friend, her savior . . . that the reason why she shivered at night was because his arms weren’t there to protect her and comfort her, that his warmth wasn‘t there to surround her. She still couldn’t open her eyes in the morning because she knew he wouldn’t be staring back down at her. She was alone now, and nothing would be able to change that.

The tears she had been trying to suppress finally came forth at that revelation. She was without him . . . and she wanted to scream at the heavens for their injustice, for taking away the only love that could surpass anything . . . except death. Spike was gone, and now had no one.

“Hello, pet.” And suddenly . . . he was there, with his usual tousled spiky hair, dancing blue eyes, and that smirk she hated and loved so much.

Buffy cried a little harder . . . and now the desert, the one place she had took comfort in, was playing tricks with her mind. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but let the illusion of him soothe her as she wished for it so much to be real.


“Do you think he’ll look like me,” he asked, walking towards her in a pair of faded black jeans and shirt.

“I know he’ll look like you,” she assured him with a smile.

His hand touched her cheek, and Buffy closed her eyes and leaned against his palm that she could almost really feel. And then his other hand was on her growing abdomen, and her tears continued to fall more rapidly. “A life, pet . . . “ he said in awe, his voice a mixture of laughter and excitement, “That’s what we had . . . and that’s what we made.”

And the he was gone, just as quickly as he appeared. She chuckled lightly and rubbed her protruding belly as she looked around, finding no one around her. She then smiled through her sorrow and stared out into the vast desert. “A life, Spike . . . That’s what we had . . . and that’s what we made,” she whispered softly, her voice carrying out into a sudden breeze. “I love you, Spike . . . ” she said, “And I’ll live . . . we’ll live . . . for you.”


//I can be your hero//
 

THE END