Breaking the Habit

Chapter One


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I touched the fire and it freezes me. I look into it and it’s black. Why can’t I feel? ; my skin should crack and peel! I want the fire back. Buffy Summers gazed into the book that sat in her lap, trying to take her mind off of that cold, confusing night that had ended just hours ago. She sighed softly, running her hands through her hair. She had left Spike there, when he had told her to go in, nothing was the same, as it had been and she hated it.

She closed the book and looked at the clock, the sun would be rising soon, she’d better get some sleep. She folded her arms over her waist and moved slowly up the stairs, checking by Dawn’s room, then moving to her own. She didn’t bother changing, just lay down, clutching the pillow to her cheek. A tear slipped slowly from her as she gazed across the room, this house was so full of the memory of her mother. She still remembered coming home and finding her there, giving her CPR, but it wasn’t enough, she couldn’t save her.

She thought on Spike’s words, how she tormented him. She knew he did love her, she didn’t really deny it, but she denied herself the ability to love. She didn’t feel hate, but she felt pain, and doubt. Most people would be too afraid to die, afraid of what they didn’t know was there, but in truth, she was afraid of living. She didn’t want to be who she used to be, but she didn’t really want to change.

Unable to sleep she stood and left the house, only after locking the doors and making sure the windows were closed. Then she just walked, didn’t think, didn’t wonder, she just felt her legs move and she allowed them to take her to the place she felt she most belonged right now. She looked up, sighed, and pressed inside.


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His eyes flew up as she entered, studied her from the darkness of the corner. Sun was leaking in and he hissed, hurried away from the rays. At the sound she quickly shut the door and sighed deeply, silent for what seemed like an eternity, as bloody corny as that sounded. He slowly stood from the floor and gazed upon her exhausted face, and he realized she’d been unable to sleep. As he opened his dry mouth to speak, her words hit him.

“Spike I’m sorry. I know that what I’ve been doing, how I’ve been acting, it’s . . . Well killing you.”

He gazed upon her with wonderment. “So, does this . . . ”

“It doesn’t really change anything. I couldn’t hurt you like that and look like it was on purpose, but . . . ” She paused. “I’m . . . I don’t know anything. I don’t know what love is, or what hate is. It’s like, when they brought me back I was just the empty shell and maybe I am, maybe most of me is still in Heaven but what can I do without my emotions? And what’s more how . . . how do I get them back.”

He licked his cracked lips and replied. “Buffy, I . . . I know this is hard, but maybe, just maybe. If you want to feel your emotions again, you just have to, to try things . . . To let go, you’re so terribly tense, look at you, you’re shivering.”

Her eyes fell momentarily, then she mumbled. “I-I I left my jacket at the Bronze.”

Without a thought he hefted off the red shirt and moved to her, draped it over her shoulders. She was still, then she reached up and clutched the fabric close. “Th-thank you.”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, then spoke. “Would it be so painful as to give you me a chance?”

She sobbed. “I haven’t had the best experience with vampires.”

“Believe me love. We aren’t all the same.” He grinned lightly. “We can be crazy, drunks, Saints with a hunger, we can be sweet, two faced, we’re half human, we just get a little beastly.”

She laughed. “And what are you?”

He bit his lip. “Believe it or not, I once was a poet.”

She gazed at him incredulously. “What?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a softy like a, I believe Cordelia once called Angel a CareBear with fangs, that’s more me than Angel.”

“How did you know she called him that?”

He smiled. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m not out to hurt you Buffy.”

“Love hurts.”

“But it’s kind.” He argued.

She smiled. “I just need time.”

He exhaled deeply. “I know, but one thing before you go into exile.”

She felt her heart give an odd thud. “What?”

“One kiss, that’s all I ask, I swear I won’t make it more.”

She was silent, seemed to gaze at the ground and wade through why this was bad, and good. He moved closer, she read softness in his dark eyes, and when his arms slid around her she felt safe. Slowly she leaned in and touched her lips to his, and he caressed them, the kiss grew deeper and deeper before she backed away. “I should go, and uh, well you should get behind something before you get fried.”

“Huh? Oh right um, bye.”

“Bye.”


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“Morning Buffy.” Dawn yawned as she came into the kitchen, and she jumped as she gazed at her sister. “Jesus, did you even sleep?”

Buffy sighed. “I fell asleep a couple times, but I had nightmares.” She said softly.

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep well.” Dawn agreed.

Buffy sighed. “I called the school. You aren’t going in today. Just get some rest. You had a rough night.”

Dawn nodded. “Ok. You want anything?”

“Naw just go back to bed. I’ll be fine.”

Dawn did and so Buffy groaned and went into the living room, and pitched to the couch, fell asleep almost instantly. She lay there for a way, sleeping dreamlessly, to her great happiness and she didn’t wake until well in the evening, only to find Spike hovering above her.

“Somebody’s taking up my hobbies.”

She jumped up and her eye shot to the clock. “H-h-h-ow long have you been there?”

“Mm, round ten minutes. Sun’s only just gone down.”

She rubbed her eyes then looked at him. “Why’re you here?”

“Figured I should check on you. Made sure you got your rest and didn’t end up killing yourself.”

“I don’t know wether to puke or smile.”

He cocked his head. “Oh?”

“I’ve been sleeping on my stomach twelve hours. It’s probably just wound up. Anything going on?”

“Just the usual vamps that come out when you aren’t there, most are afraid to leave the cemetery by now.”

She rolled her eyes. “I guess I better go on patrol. Where’s Dawn?”

“Upstairs watching Willow and Tara make her book float, or something of the sort. I’ll come with.”


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Buffy rolled her eyes as Dawn’s CD player began to blast a Linkin Park song, she dropped to the bed and lay there thinking when suddenly she caught the words, and so she became attentive as Chester Bennignton’s haunting voice floated through the wall.

Memories consume;

Like opening the wound

I’m picking me apart again

You all assume

I’m safe here in my room

Unless I try to start again

I don’t want to be the one

The battles always choose

‘Cause inside I realize

That I’m the one confused

I don’t know what’s worth fighting for

Or why I have to scream

I don’t know why I instigate

And say what I don’t mean

I don’t know how I got this way

I know it’s not all right

So I’m breaking the habit

I’m breaking the habit

Tonight

Clutching my cure

I tightly lock the door

I try to catch my breath again

I hurt much more

Than any time before

I had no options left again

I don’t want to be the one

The battles always choose

‘Cause inside I realize

That I’m the one confused

I don’t know what’s worth fighting for

Or why I have to scream

I don’t know why I instigate

And say what I don’t mean

I don’t know how I got this way

I’ll never be all right

So I’m breaking the habit

I’m breaking the habit

Tonight

I’ll paint it on the walls

‘Cause I’m the one at fault

I’ll never fight again

And this is how it ends

I don’t know what’s worth fighting for

Or why I have to scream

But now I have some clarity

To show you what I mean

I don’t know how I got this way

I’ll never be all right

So I’m breaking the habit

I’m breaking the habit

Tonight

Moved a smile crept over her tear wet face as the song ended. Though it wasn’t completely how she felt it explained a lot, it fit her well. She sat up and wiped away the tears. She didn’t have a cure to clutch, she didn’t know what that could be. Maybe Dawn and Spike were right, maybe, and her cure to life was life itself, living it. Maybe time will heal this.

She chuckled. She sounded like a goddamn philosopher. It annoyed her yet pleased her in the way, at least she knew that she wasn’t a typical blonde and that death hadn’t stolen any of her brainpower. She left her room and went to his sister’s door and knocked. The sound of the fifteen-year-old turning off the CD player, then moving to the door played through her attention and she was so caught up in thought that she didn’t even notice when Dawn opened the door.

“Buffy!” She looked up from the floor, tightening her arms embrace around herself. “What’s up?”

“Um,” She gained her composure. “Sorry, what song was that?”

“Oh, uh Linkin Park, Breaking the Habit.”

“Think you could have someone burn it for me?”

“You hate Linkin Park.”

“Yeah, but I really liked that song. Please?”

Dawn grinned. “Wow. You are acting funny. All right, all right. Now get lost. I’m trying to do my math homework.”

“Sure you are.” Buffy grinned as she walked away, she called back. “We all do our math homework to alternative rock music.”

“Shut up.” Dawn groaned. Buffy heard her close the door and smiled, in the best mood she’d been in for a while. She made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen to see the sun was setting. She sighed and grabbed her sweater, then left a note for Willow and Tara. She wanted to make a stop before she started her watch.


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Boo. You suck! Erm, I at least hope nor, this is really lame, but I tried.

Breaking the Habit

Chapter Two

A Shadow in the Distance


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The crystalline moon shone down through the thick, black night sky. All was still in the graveyard except for the occasional chirp of a cricket and sound of the wind blowing over and through the tombstones. Buffy Summers was unusually uneasy tonight, and she wasn’t sure why. At every whistle from the wind she spun around, stake in hand, poised to kill. But nothing was ever there, and she began to wonder if it was just her imagination.

Exhausted she looked at her watch, 2:00 A.M., she had 3 to 4 more hours of the watch. This was going to be a very long night. She sat on a marker, not something she would usually do but she was still recuperating from the night of hardly any rest, and the patrol didn’t make it any easier. She never would have noticed the figure anyway, it was more experienced, lethal and lithe, agile in a way she had never seen. Before she even felt its fangs pierce her neck there was no warning, its touch was hypnotic and not alarming, so she was calm until the familiar pain of having her throat ripped out struck.

She grunted and kicked at it, sending it flying backwards and as she pressed her hand to her bleeding throat it leapt onto her, reattaching itself to the delicate flesh, more ready for her fight, so when she struggled it just held her to the ground. The creature smiled in triumph, within minutes, the slayer would be dead.

Just as it began to withdraw blood from her jugular two strong hands clutched his shoulder’s and ripped him off of the young woman, who again desperately clasped the wound to stop her bleeding. Spike brutally fought the creature and just as he had the advantage the vampire screeched and became a shower of dust, falling and leaving Buffy, staring forward, stake in hand. She pitched to the ground with a moan and he quickly descended after her, ripping part of his shirt away and quickly tying it around her neck securely.

She looked at him and groaned. “I’m really starting to suck at this.” She shook her head. “I can’t handle it. I’m just too tired.”

He shook his head. “You don’t suck you’re just . . . Ok you suck, but not completely, cutie. You just need your rest and you’re going to get it if I have to sit on you. First, you’d better get that throat looked at.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t hand me that, I’ll drag you if I have too.” He emphasized his point by lifting her up and beginning to carry her away.

“Ugh! Spike! Put me down! I can walk!” she struggled helplessly.

He shook his head. “Uh-uh, I don’t trust you, the clinic’s just a few minutes walk away.”

“Spiiiiiiike!”

“Oh stop you’re whining! You know Summers, as much as I love you, you really can be a pain in the ass!”

Woozy, she chuckled. “Look at all the pretty colors!”

He rolled his eyes and smiled lightly. A giddiness took him as he realized how this looked, him, a vampire carrying her, the slayer to the hospital after she’d been attacked. And then there was always the teensy fact that he was thrilled by the feel of her in his arms, trusting and helpless. But it’s not like he cared for her . . .


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“It’s almost sunup. You should go.” Buffy murmured as they trudged through the cemetery lawn, an awkward, insensible feeling put both of them uneasy.

He shook his head after a pause. “No, I’m going to make sure you get home all right, and that you go to bed.”

She gazed at him incredulously. “Are you crazy? By the time you get me in and get out the sun’ll be up and you’ll be fried!”

He shrugged. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He firmly took her hand and continued to look on as she gazed at him, she shifted slightly.

“W-well. I guess we could keep you in the basement if you promise to behave.”

He avoided a grin of triumph. “I guess that would work, though truthfully a place right next to you in the bed would be better, and before you even glare at me and take it back I know, cold day in hell.”

Embarrassed by her obviousness she looked away from him, then back to him when he squeezed her hand. “It’s all right Buffy. I don’t care, I’ve slept in a basement before.”

“No it’s, I’m so horrible to you, Spike.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re careful. That’s a good thing. Maybe I’ll get lucky one day.”

She sighed. “Maybe. . .”

They made their way into the house and Buffy groggily grabbed two blankets, and a pillow from the linen closet and handed them to Spike. “There’s a cot down there, lucky you, and the shades are down. There are light’s if you want, I’m sure you’ll figure them out.”

He followed her up the stairs and to her room, where she fell to the bed. “If you need anything, somehow come up here, maybe in a blanket.” she buried her face in the pillow and to his surprise fell asleep almost immediately. He set the things down in her doorway and made his way over to her, turned her onto her back and pulled her blanket over her. He paused a moment, then leaned in, pressed his lips to her cheek. “Sweet dreams.” He murmured.

He sighed and turned, avoiding anger as he saw Willow, Tara and Dawn all huddled in the door, grinning madly. He lifted a finger to his mouth, then moved out, closed the door and gathered his things. He went down the stairs to the empty, dank basement save the washer and dryer and a cot in another room. He went in and lay down, tired from the long night.


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Buffy stirred in her sleep, a dark figure moved past her, and she turned to gaze upon it but the angle of the light made them appear a shadow. She moved to them, pressed her hand to their shoulder but they disappeared into nothing.

She spun around to see Spike, leaning against a wall, arms crossed smiling at her. He wore his usual black t-shirt and pants, and the red button up shirt he had worn the night he had sung to her, and she felt herself blush as he gazed at her. “What are you looking at?”

He moved from the wall and came closer so he was only inches away. “The woman I love.” She didn’t resist as he reached out and touched her cheek, and before she knew anything she fell into his arms, cheek pressed to his pulse less chest. The comfort she received from this single embrace was like what she had wanted so long. “There’s only one way we can be together Buffy.”

“How?” she murmured, not truly thinking, just going along with the dream.

He bent and ripped her throat open, drank a bit then let her drink from his neck and just as she felt she’d die, she woke with a start, the dream of Spike siring her just that, a dream. She sat up and stretched a bit, wiped some sweat from her brow and remembered Spike was here. She looked at the time and hurried from her room down the stairs to the kitchen, read a note from Willow, then went to the fridge. She pulled out the orange juice and poured herself a glass, put it back, drank it and paused. She sighed and opened the door to the basement and went down.

He was on the cot, eyes closed and he seemed comfortable enough. She moved closer and watched him some more, then bit her lip. Maybe she’d had that dream for a reason. Not to say he’d rip her throat out or sire her, but to say he could give her the comfort she wanted. An idea sparked and she quickly went upstairs, wrote him a be back soon note and opened the basement door, taped it to the opposite side, and hurried out. She had to stop by the Magic Box to let Willow and Tara know she needed the house to herself until around ten, and asked them to take Dawn around with them. Then she went to the liquor store to get a bottle of wine.


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She returned and set the bottle in ice to chill, then got some candles out and lit the living room with them. She brought the ice bucket along with two glasses into the room and sighed. This would have to do. She went into the kitchen just as the basement door opened and he stepped out and looked at her. “You’re back.”

Nervously her hands flitted in a careless gesture. “Yeah, I just needed a couple of things. I . . . Hope you don’t have plans.”

He closed the door and leaned against it. “No, why?”

She shrugged. “Well I had a nice little thought that we might be able to talk, maybe get a little more cozy.”

His expression betrayed his amusement and he move slightly closer. “Cozy? My dear slayer have you been drinking?”

“Not yet.” She nervously moved closer. “Spike I had a dream and, well we hugged and, and it felt nice. Good. Comforting. Like... Oh screw it.” She abandoned reason and threw herself into his arms, relieved that it was even more solace than it had been in her dream. Her face pressed into his chest she felt him slowly return the embrace and then rest his cheek in her hair.

“I must be dreaming. Buffy... are you sure?”

She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m not sure I love you, I’m not sure I want you, catch my drift. I’m not sure of much, but I’m sure I need you Spike.”

She slowly brought herself away and pulled the dazed night creature by the hand into the living room, sat with him on the couch and uncorked the wine. “Now, let’s get to know each other, shall we?”


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He watched her laugh, glass half full of wine in one hand, her other hand secured tightly in his. Her golden hair swung down as she bent her head, still laughing and she lifted it again, giggling now, gazing at him. She calmed slightly as their eyes met, then she smirked and turned away, finished off the wine and set it down, addressed him as seriously as she could. “Spike, I need to tell you something. I’m drunk.”

He smiled softly, then made a mock expression of disappointment. “What a shame, I guess you’ll have to go to bed early.”

She laughed again and fell sideways into his arms, staring up at the ceiling she calmed an sighed. He held her a bit, just silently watching her, thanking God, or whoever was responsible for having her open up so much. She shifted and looked up at him. “I’ve known a lot of guys, but I’ve never felt this safe with one.”

He smiled down at her. Didn’t say a word, just reached out and brushed some hair from her face, felt his emotion swell in his throat as he gazed down at her, and then the tears came. He quickly looked away as he suppressed sobs and she sat up. “Spike? What is it? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head and gave a shuddery breath, his voice was choked by the tightness of emotion in his throat, he didn’t look at her, but responded. “This bloody world, that’s what. I don’t know what I’d do if I’d have lost you.”

She smiled softly, weakly and lay her head against his chest. “You can’t be afraid of death Spike, or losing someone to it.” She sighed. “Being dead is so much simpler. Every aspect of it.”

He sniffled and took her hands in his. “Promise me you’ll stay here, you won’t just give up your life to live simpler, it’ll heal Buffy, it’ll all heal.”

She nuzzled his throat. “I can’t stay forever Spike, I’m going to get old one day, and I’ll die then and you, you’ll still be young and handsome and active. And you’ll find someone else.”

“Never,” he interrupted. “There’ll never be anyone else. I’d give up immortality for you, if I could find a way I would. I’d be normal just to be with you.”

“Spike....”

“I know we aren’t there or close but don’t you see? This is a step!”

“Don’t get caught up on me Spike, it might never change, we might always be good friends.”

“If you can dream so can I.”


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Meh, attack of the fluff. Well, let me know what you think, what I’ve screwed up and etc.

Three

Burnt

The next morning Buffy sat at the kitchen table and began to sort through the mail. Tara and Willow had left and so had Dawn, Spike was asleep now that it was daylight and so she figured she may as well get it done. Three bills, a bunch of junk and two letters, one addressed to her and one addressed to Willow.

Curious, she slid her finger across the glued seal and pulled the paper out, unfolded it, and slowly began to read. As she did, a flood of emotion filled her to a point where she didn’t want to believe what was on the paper.

Miss Summers,

My name is Helen Adams Summers, and I am your father’s wife. This letter is very difficult for me to write, I don’t know you and I know you probably haven’t heard of me. Yesterday, the 26th, your father was killed in a horrible accident. I do have his Will and he’s left you and your sister Dawn $15,000 each.

You probably are upset with him for having remarried, as I understand your mother still hasn’t. But please understand that I am not your enemy. We have two twin boys, four years old and they want to meet their half sisters. Please consider it.

Your father also left your mother his Porsche, you know how he loved that car, and he wanted your mother to have something of him. Please let her know about all of this so she can break it to Dawn.

Don’t be a stranger

Helen Summers. (555-8972) Funeral Thursday at Sixth Yard’s Cemetery, Row 18, Plot 20





Sickened she backed away from the table, clutching herself in the chair as hot tears of memory and anger flowed down her cheeks. She jumped when a hand reached out from behind her and lifted the letter, held it as the person read it.

Buffy stood and moved to the windows, pulled all of the shades down so Spike didn’t have to wear the blanket anymore. He finished reading and turned and looked at her. “Are you going?”

She shrugged. “If- if Dawn wants to go.”

He sighed and moved to her, hugged her for a while then spoke. “You should call this woman, let her know about your mom and stuff.”

She sighed too. “Yeah, I guess I should. You’re up... really early.”

He sighed. “Woke up and got a bit restless. Hope it’s ok.”

She laughed. “Of course! You live here now bud, like it or not. I’m going to set Mom’s TV and VCR up down there, get the old bed set up, make it more cozy. Maybe a chair and some books if you want.”

He smiled. “You don’t have to.”

She shook her head, smiling and went to the counter. “Coffee?”

“What kind?”

“Regular.”

“Hit me.” He got a cup from the cupboard and sat down. She got the pot and went to him, poured it, more aware of his look than he thought. “What?”

He grinned. “I dunno, this just feels sort of... Homey, you know?”

She smiled and sat by him. “I guess, it’s kind of like playing house.” She paused to sip the hot drink. “So I guess that would make me the mommy, you the daddy, Dawn the baby, and Tara and Willow her Aunt and Uncle.”

He chuckled. “I always thought Dawn looked like my Mum.”

Buffy raised a brow. “Really?”

He shook his head. “No, just playing along.”

She chuckled and sighed. “Well, I guess I better call her before I don’t feel like it.”

“Want me to go back downstairs?”

“No, it’s all right. I might need you up here for if I break down.” She went to the cordless and picked it up, sat back down and dialed the number on the letter. A soft, broken voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi, I need to speak with Helen Summers.” Buffy replied softly.

“This is her.”

“Hi Helen, this is Buffy Summers, from Sunnydale.”

“Oh Buffy! You’re Hank's eldest daughter, right?”

“Uh, yes I am. The reason I’m calling is to let you know that, well my Mom died back in 2001, I’m surprised Dad didn’t know.”

“Oh I’m... I’m so sorry to hear that. . .”

Buffy sighed. “It’s ok. Look, I um, I’m sorry about Dad, I’m not sure if Dawn and I will be coming, I just got your letter today and she’s in school so uh, yeah. How are the boys taking it?”

“Well they miss him, but they’re still little, hardly understand. Listen I have a lot of things to do before tomorrow, thanks for calling, I’ll be sure to talk to the lawyer about the Porsche.”

“Oh, uh, ok. Bye.” She hung up and set the phone on the table, with a deep sigh she sat back against the chair and groaned. “This is going to be one hell of a month.”

He laughed. “Oh but I’m sure the slayer can handle it. You’re tough Buffy, I’ve no worries about you.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I’m not as tough as I look.” she sighed. “I may be able to kick demonic ass but when it comes to emotions, I’m a bowl of mush.”

He raised a brow and shook his head. He didn’t say anything, had nothing to say, and she didn’t blame him. What could he say? She shook her head and stood. “I’m gonna go change, all the shades are down, feel free to move around.”


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Buffy bit her lip as she gazed at the clock, seeing Dawn would be coming in any minute now. She was at the Magic Box, where Dawn went after school, and she was waiting for her little sister to tell her the bad news. The others knew, she’d told them earlier, and they were all silent and desolate, so she knew Dawn would know something was going on the minute she walked in. Spike of course was at home, as it was daylight, he’d found a copy of ‘Interview With the Vampire’ and he’d popped it into the VCR, mumbling about how off Anne Rice was.

Just as she planned to sit down the door opened and Dawn came in, smiling. “Hey everyone what’s...”she froze as she saw the grim, unpleasant expressions of her sister and friends. “What?”

Buffy sighed deeply. “Dawn, can I see you in the back?”

Warily her sister followed her and Buffy had her sit with her on one of the rest benches Giles had for practice. “Look, you know I love you right?”

“Yeah.” Dawn said softly, beginning to be creeped out.

“And you know I would never want to hurt you?”

“Buffy what’s going on?”

Buffy sighed and met her younger sister’s gaze. “Dawn Dad died a couple days ago. He was in a car accident. His wife wrote to me.”

“Wait a minute, wife?” Dawn said.

“Yeah, her name is Helen, I spoke to her on the phone too. His funeral is tomorrow if you want to go.”

A tear coursed down the fifteen-year-old’s cheek. “So we’re parentless? We haven’t got anyone now?”

“We have each other.” Buffy said slowly. “Dawn look, Hank Summers wasn’t exactly the ideal father. I know you loved him, I did too, but you have to admit, there was never anything really special there.”

“So this doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course it does, I could hardly think when I read that letter. Mostly since he left us so much, he even left Mom the Porsche.”

“But Mom’s...”

“He didn’t know, Dawn.” She interrupted quickly so she wouldn’t have to hear those hateful words. “He’s left us each $15,000. So we’ll be ok with money. We have each other and so many friends that are more like family.” Dawn nodded and sniffled, wiped her tears away. Buffy grinned. “Know what’s good for making you feel better?”

“What?” Dawn looked at her.

“A nice cuddle.” Buffy wrapped her arms around the smaller brunette and Dawn laughed. “Look, Dad’s in a better place, believe me. When they say heaven’s worth waiting for, they aren’t kidding.”

Dawn nodded slowly. “Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re back.”


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Rain poured down on the small gathering in black, a pastor spoke words that no one understood and three women and two little boys stared at the black, flower covered casket that sat above it’s grave. The ink on cards from the little boys was smudged, but legible, and one of the women, a fair blonde used no umbrella, let the rain beat down on her head. Her fine, straight hair clung to her cheeks in wisps, and her sad eyes stared at the ground, unaware of anything as she went deeper into thought.

A younger woman, darker hair and a slight resemblance to the blonde stood under a black umbrella with the other woman, much older than her. Tears eased down both’s cheeks every so often, and the younger woman looked up as a figure approached, and nodded at his pat on her shoulder, and then he moved to the blonde, taking her under the refuge of his own umbrella and into his arms. She looked at him, startled then smiled and nodded her thanks, leaning her head against his chest.

Spike watched her as she went back into thought, staring at the muddy turf, her dark eyes lost. It pained him to see her withdrawing into herself again, and he wished desperately that he could somehow bring her back. The bandaging on her throat was gone now, the wound from the vampire healing slowly, it would scar, but would be easy to cover up with clothing and makeup. It was an ugly reminder to him on how she had been, and she had been so much better for the past week, and here she was, staring into space, hiding once again.

He rested his cheek in her soaked hair, relishing in her scent. She sighed and slipped an arm around his waist on one side, then the other so that she was buried in his chest, able to hide her sadness and anger from her sister, half brothers and stepmother. Helen had offered to take her and Dawn in, but Buffy had declined. They had all agreed Dawn could go spend every couple weeks with Helen and the boys, but she didn’t feel she could handle it. There would be too much Dad, a Dad she had resented since he had left her mother. And here he had gone off and replaced them, married another woman, had other children... She was surprised he had left them anything in the will.

She shifted slightly in the embrace to breathe easier. She had not asked Spike to come and yet he had. In daylight to top it all off! His umbrella had shielded him from the sun but she could see some small burns on his hands, showing he hadn’t completely avoided it. He’d risked his very existence just to comfort her today, and she wasn’t sure how she could thank him. She moved so she was in front of him, her back to his front and she leaned back to rest her head on his shoulder as his arms tightened around her. “Thanks Spike.” she whispered. “I don’t know how I would have made it without you.”

He smiled. “You wanna go home?”

She nodded and moved to Dawn, they hugged and Buffy left emergency contacts with Helen for if anything should happen and Buffy couldn’t be reached. Spike led her to his car, stolen, quite expensive with tinted windows. He had nabbed it off some old bit on the street, only after killing and drinking off them. It was a long, silent drive, full of awkward glances and unshed comments.

Once they got to the house it was dark, and so Spike didn’t need the umbrella. He went into the kitchen and got a glass of orange juice (she’d convinced him to drink as least booze as possible, better example for Dawn), began to drink it. She went into the bathroom, grabbed some burn treating cream and bandages and went into the kitchen, sat next to him and began to work on the burns. He was surprised but was helpful, stayed still for her. Just as she finished one hand Willow and Tara came from upstairs and exchanged looks, smirks. “Hey, how was the funeral.”

“Nice.” Buffy said softly, almost too shortly. She didn’t turn to look at her friends, emotion beginning to swell, seeing her expression Spike made a gesture for them to drop the subject. Both’s smiles vanished and looks of worry appeared. Again, he shook his head, moved his lips to say it was all right.

Buffy finished her work and sighed, throwing away some cotton swabs. “So, what do you guys wanna do for dinner?”

Willow shrugged. “Well, we can go out if you’d like.”

Tara nodded and Buffy shrugged carelessly. “Sounds like a plan, Spike?”

“Why not? C’mon, I’ll drive.” He stood and slipped into his coat as the women went to get theirs. He slid his hands into his pockets and felt his fingers brush some cold metal, and a memory hit him. It was a necklace, something he actually hadn’t stolen, and he wanted to give it to her in front of her friends. He went into the hall and ascended the stairs.


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“So... Buffy. What’s with you and Spike?”

Buffy looked at Tara and smiled. “He’s my friend.”

Willow grinned. “Yeah? I’m your friend and you don’t cuddle with me like that!”

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s easier with him, he’s like... Well an angel, he gives comfort I cant describe.”

“So you love him?”

“I... Willow don’t do that.”

“But you must, if he gives you that comfort, there must be something....”

“It does make sense Buffy.” Tara added.

“Look, there is nothing ‘between’ me and Spike!” Buffy felt the heat in her cheeks leave as she gazed over her friends sad and surprised faces. They were watching something behind her...

She turned and gazed at Spike, he was hiding the pain, his face tight and somehow more pale than usual. He took a deep breath and in a thin, feeble voice asked them. “You girls ready?”

Willow and Tara nodded and walked out, leaving the two alone. He tried desperately not to go into hysterics or scream at her, instead he just murmured. “Nothing Buffy? Nothing? Is that really what you believe about us?”

“Spike we’re just friends...”

“Bull, Summers! Friends, they don’t feel like we do, friends are close but friends, they never feel electricity when they touch! They can’t derive the sort of comfort we take from each other! Why do you just lie to yourself?”

“I’m scared, ok? I’m afraid that if I let myself love you you’ll just run off and I’ll never see you again! I’m afraid that there’s no way we can be together and that if Dru shows up you won’t just go back to her!” Tears coursed down her cheeks.

He stared at her in awe. “Buffy you thi- - Oh God Buffy, I’d never do that! I may be dirt but stop me seconds aren’t my style! I love you! I’m not Angel, I’m nothing like him! I would never leave, dammit you mean too much! You’re life for me, a dead man! And God we’ll find a way, let’s not forget your best friends are witches!” He moved forward and pulled her to him, hugged her. “You’re all I have and I never want to lose you.”

She shivered and he gazed at her, saw the deepness of her eyes, he reached up and cupped her cheek and she fell into his embrace. “Give me a week, a week and if I don’t change by then promise me you’ll let go.”

He thought about this, he really didn’t want to agree, but he knew he couldn’t wait here an eternity just to be hurt, rejected. He nodded, their noses touching he whispered. “I promise, but only if you let me do a little convincing.”

She blinked, the spell of his voice and closeness broken. “Huh?”

He dipped and claimed her lips, pressing a hard, hungry kiss to them. He pulled her waist against him and she stood for a moment, shocked and enveloped in the heat of sensation but soon her arms were around him, imploring him to continue and he deepened the kiss, full of the taste and feel of her to a point where he thought he’d explode. When he opened his eyes and parted from her he saw that she’d managed to pin him between her and the wall and her fingers were wrapped in his short, bleached hair.

“We’d . . . We’d better get to the car. They’re waiting.” He mumbled against her mouth, she groaned and nodded, grabbed her coat and headed downstairs and out the door with him.


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Yeah, fluff again, but this one was deeper. R&R

Breaking the Habit

Chapter Four

The Point of No Return


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Three days passed quickly, almost too quickly. No, not almost, it HAD gone too fast. Spike’s anticipation and Buffy’s anxiety had reached a point where they could hardly stand to be in the same room as each other. After their kiss the other night they had refrained from physical contact, he didn’t want to upset her and she didn’t want to give him any ideas.

On the evening of the fourth day Spike came upstairs ( which was becoming a ritual) for some orange juice. Usually Buffy would be reading or drawing at the table, but today, she was nowhere to be found. Surprised he looked in the living room and the bathroom, both unoccupied, then her room, which also didn’t consist of her. It wasn’t like her to go out without leaving a note, so worried for her he picked up the phone and (feeling very awkward) called the Magic Box.

To his great relief, Willow answered, one of the few people that didn’t totally hate him. “Uh, Willow, is Buffy around?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah actually. She um... Well I really can’t tell you what she’s doing for her reasons but yeah, she’s ok.” Willow finally finished.

“Oh ok... She uh, she’s ok?”

Willow laughed softly. “Yes Spike, don’t worry, she’s in good hands.”

“Ok... Then uh, Bye.” He hung up the phone after losing his words and leaned against the wall with a long, agonized moan. He could almost smell her in the air of this her home, and he hated the thought of having to leave it all behind and go back to that cold, lonely crypt.

With a sigh and a shrug he went downstairs to his newly furnished room, grabbed an acoustic guitar he had actually bargained off of another vampire, some paper from the kitchen counter, and a pencil. He trudged out to the front porch and sat on the top step, set the paper and pencil next to him and took the guitar into his hands, began to find a rhythm.

Unconsciously at first he began to play the song he had sang to Buffy just under a month ago, but the words were different. Instead of desperate and harsh they were desperate and sweet, caring, which before would have disgusted him but as he began to sing them and jot them down, he smiled softly. She was everywhere here, and he almost felt he was singing to her.

“I died, so many years ago. But you can make me feel, like it isn’t so. If you’re gonna be with me, I think I finally know. Mmmhmmm. You’re there, you know just what you feel, you know that now I have your love, but it’s so hard to deal. A whisper in a dead man’s ear, but he just feels so real. That’s great, but I don’t wanna play, ‘cause being here touches me more than I will say. And if I’m so alive to you, I’m sayin’ let me stay. So we can be in peace. We can be in peace, we can speak our needs, we can take our love and bury it, let it grow a family tree. We can lay our bodies down and finally find our sweet release. We can be in peace.” Finishing his writing he sighed and sat back against a post, surprised to see Buffy watching him from the sidewalk. He set the guitar aside but said nothing, inhaled her with his eyes even though his sense of smell picked up her light perfume and deodorant. She inhaled deeply and casually walked closer. “I didn’t know you could play.”

Surprised she had spoken, he opened his own mouth to speak but had a hard time finding words. “Oh, I uh... I think I learned some time in the sixties. Yeah, sounds about right.”

She nodded and walked up the steps, sat next to him, arms crossed, eyes lowered. “I uh... I...”

“You don’t have to say anything Buffy, you’ve got three more days.” He murmured lightly, avoiding her surprised gaze. He picked up the guitar and softly strummed it, lightly enough so she could speak over the sound.

“I... I don’t need the three days.”

He looked at her quickly, mid strum. The hum of the strings held and faded as he fought for something to say, then he met her eyes and saw her sad, stern expression, his own fell and he looked away again. “I see.”

She frowned all the more. “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

Angered by her calm her threw the guitar into the grass and swung his arms up, said loudly. “Oh, all right then! Let’s have it!” ‘God, CONTROL yourself.’ He thought.

She cringed slightly in attempting to keep her own temper. “I went to the Magic Box, as you well know, and Willow, Tara and I looked through some books, well a lot of books.” She began. “And we found a way to bring you back.”

He frowned. “Bring me back? Bring me back to what?”

She inhaled deeply, still averting his gaze. “Back to life.”

Stunned he stared at her, unable to speak as she continued, finally looking at him, her eyes dancing with well repressed joy. “You’d have your old name only a more recent birth date. You’d have a job a place in society, memories of a past, but you’d still remember your old one and days as a vampire. Friends,” She paused, biting her lip. “Me.”

His widened eyes hit hers at this and he stumbled over his words. “B-buffy does thi- does this m-mean....”

“Look,” she whispered, her hand slowly covering his. “This won’t be easy, who knows who you’ll be other than blonde, British and gorgeous...”

He grinned. “I dunno, if I were you that would sound pretty damn good.”

She laughed softly and then grew slightly serious. “But I swear Spike, if you screw up...”

He silenced her with a gentle, but purposeful kiss. “Thank you.” He whispered. “Oh, God Buffy do you?....”

She smiled softly, warmly and knowingly. “Yeah, I do.”

Pressing his cheek to hers and rubbing in a feline fashion he whispered. “Say it.” Nuzzling their noses.

“I love you.” She gently kissed his lips. “I love you Spike.”

“Buffy,” he mumbled, kissing along her jaw.

“H-huh?” She managed.

“Call me by my real name from now on.” Now he spread his hot, tantalizing kisses down her throat.

“Oh-oh God.” She groaned.

He returned to her lips and then pulled her close, resting his cheek in her hair, as he was so fond of. She sighed and asked. “What now?”

He grinned and stood, lifted her into his arms and went inside, as he reached the stairs she raised an eyebrow and slapped his shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t care, as long as I don’t have to sleep alone again.”


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“So what the bloody hell do I have to DO?”

Giles sighed, setting up some candles as Spike’s restless groan echoed throughout the room. “Be quiet, stay still and trust us.”

Spike snorted. “Bollocks! The things we must do for love!”

Buffy slapped the back of his head as she walked by him, moving to stand by Giles. “Hey!”

“Sorry love, only a little restless.”

She grinned and mumbled to herself (though he DID hear her). “You don’t have to tell ME that.”

She sighed as Spike grinned over at her. “So how long will this take?”

“Moments,” Tara answered. “So don’t worry, you can go home and rest right after and that’ll be soon.”

Spike bit his lip. “ If it doesn’t work? I don’t turn into a pile of dust do I?”

“Now when have we ever been that lucky?” Giles answered, finding the page in his book.

“Be nice.” Buffy warned.

“All right then, let’s give me a pulse.”

The group joined hands and began to chant the Romanian words. There was a ‘whoosh’, some bright light and then blackness. “Should that have happened?” Buffy’s tentative voice whispered.

A thump in Spike’s body caught his attention and he grinned, pressing a hand to his heart and laughing out as slow, steady beating repeated beneath his hand. “I think so.”

“Why’s that?” Giles asked him calmly.

“Oh, only because it worked.”

A flame flickered as Giles lit a candle and once able to see, Buffy ran to Spike and immediately pressed her ear to his chest, listened and grinned, turning to her friends alight. “It did!”

He sighed with relief and wrapped her in his arms. Breath! He breathed! With a smile he pressed a kiss to her left temple and sighed again. Heat, it consumed him now, blood pumped through him and a low ache in his gut made him smile, true bodily hunger, and not for blood!

She held him tighter, tears running down her face as she felt safe, relieved with him. It had all worked out! And she felt guilty for ever having doubted him. “I love you.” She whispered, shaking. He stroked her back and nuzzled his cheek in her hair.

“God, Buffy, I love you!” He murmured, surprised to see Giles watching with a light smile. “God how I love you.”

Willow sighed and motioned to Tara. “Well, I’m heading home. Later.”

“Yeah uh, so am I. Bye.” Tara rushed out after her, leaving Giles, Spike and Buffy.

Giles watched the two a moment more, a soft smile over his features, then he quickly asked. “Buffy, why don’t you go wait for him outside? I’d like a word.”

She gazed at him worriedly but at his soft, encouraging expression she sighed and nodded. “All right, behave or I’ll kick both your asses.” She slipped out the door and after she did Spike sighed.

“Look,”

“I’ll tell you once Spike so I suggest you listen closely. I gave this new life to you and I would be happy to take it back if you hurt her. Buffy’s like a daughter to me and her happiness is mine.” He paused and removed his glasses, closing his eyes and rubbing his eyelids. “She loves you, I know because she was asleep in death’s coma and now.” He shook his head. “She’s awoken to your song. I pray she may never fall into it again.”

Spike shook his head. “I wont, I love her, so much.”

Giles sighed deeply and clapped his shoulder. “We both better hope so.” He motioned to the door. “She’s waiting for you.”

Spike smiled softly, pressing a hand to his heart and shaking his head. “Who would’ve known.” Spike went outside and swept her up, laughing giddily. Giles watched them walk away hand in hand through the window and he wiped a tear from his eye.

“What do you know? My baby’s all grown up.” he chuckled to himself and set about locking up, he found some brandy in a drawer and opened it, sniffed it then held it to the skies. “This one’s for you, Joyce.”


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One final chapter, let's see how that comes

Five

Happy Ending’s On the Hellmouth


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Late Spring

A warm, insatiable, thin cool breeze blew over the ankle high, dewy green blades of grass, May was almost over and the weather was beginning to show it. It was clear, the sun shone all over, for no clouds dared interrupt it on this day of all days, and the warm rays spread a nice warmth over cold, pale and now bare arms that had for so long known windy, dark snow-less winters. The heat of the sun beams began to burn the light flesh of some, and they shifted uncomfortably. Others wore light, semi long sleeved garments, and their arms were just the right temperature.

A young, tall, well molded blonde stood near a white, wooden arch, nervously glancing off, fiddling with the flowers that draped the high structure, her white clothing billowing in the breeze. Suddenly a man, also blonde but more brightly so began to run toward them from a distance, he wore a dark, crisp tux with a red rose for a corsage. He gazed at her painstakingly and with the pleading look of guilt. She laughed at him, knowing he had slept in and had to hire a new driver. She reached to him and he quickly ran under to join her.

Breathless he gazed at her, she was beautiful, basking in his embarrassment as he had known she would. She took his hands gently and he sighed, catching his quick, harsh breath as the alerted pastor approached. She squeezed the warm, pale flesh, her soft, green eyes meeting his, then moving to the old, vested man as he began to speak. Before she could even realize what was happening the cold, dull weight of his ring on her finger became obvious, and she watched as her hands slipped another band onto his.

She finally heard his words, even though he had uttered them moments ago. She blushed, looking away, gazing at the widespread meadow as the pastor finished the ceremony and as he gave her new husband permission to kiss her she slowly turned back, quivering with both anxiety, the sensation of a new beginning and the wild beating of her heart. She wished so badly to reach into herself, grab and contain the pulsing organ.

He smiled at her expression, one of uncertainty and fear and so he brought her into his arms and kissed her, gently but with all his love for her, promising her the world or whatever she wanted in it, but for her, the kiss was enough to make her sure, with a sighs he fell into it, completely ignoring the applause from all around.

From a chair on the lawn Willow Rosenburg clutched her girlfriend’s hand, biting back tears, her bottom lip gripped by her teeth, she glanced next to her and felt a small grin tug at her mouth as she saw Giles’ anxiety, he sat oddly slumped and he nervously tapped his foot, it seemed, almost that he was about to get married himself. Willow laid her free hand upon his tightly balled one and he gazed at her, she smiled.

“Stop worrying so much, she’s a big girl!” She gestured to the glowing Buffy, tightly wrapped in her husband’s arms in an emotional hug.

“Well yes but- No! She’s just a little girl playing house Willow, I really think they still should have waited a bit before they went and...”

“They love each other too much to wait, she knows what she’s in for and she’s ready for it, believe me she’s thought all of this through more than us.”

“Are you sure? I mean is she ready if the time came for them to have a child? She wouldn’t be able to go out slaying because she might get hit and a child is such a responsibility I’m not sure Spike is ready for, spoiling a baby is not exactly being a parent and...”

“Giles?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and mellow out, babies are still a long way away from them, Buffy has had the birds and the bees talk.” Willow gently smiled and leaned into Tara’s ear, whispering something, causing Giles to be all the more upset.

“Willow this is hard enough, I don’t need you teasing my lack of knowledge of Buffy’s thoughts and actions!”

Back by the arch as Buffy moved from Spike’s embrace she rubbed some tears from her face, gazing at him as he chuckled. “Hey, guess what?”

She smiled and clasped his hands in hers. “What?”

He leaned in close, brushed his nose against her cheek as he whispered. “We’re married.”

She grinned. “Yeah.”

To her surprise, he in his glee lifted her into his arms and began to spin her, both laughing, and as her nausea was built he set her down. She laughed a bit then swayed forward and so he grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. He brought her into a breathless kiss, short but lacking nothing a good kiss needed, both looked at Xander as he stood and clapped his hands together.

“Ok, let’s get this party started!”

Anya covered her face with a hand in embarrassment only to have Xander yank her up and began to dance randomly. Buffy and Spike laughed at them and commenced to leave the field for the reception hall, followed by their guests.


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Rome, Italy. Six months later

Vive Roma, city of history and eternal mystery, as cheesy as that sounded. And also of evil, sinister dictatorship and hated figures, but they were needed here. Really Buffy was needed here but he needed to be near her, so he had come, it wasn’t his first time here, and he remembered his last and the one before that, who could forget, felt like sunshine indeed! No matter, this was now, that was then. Buffy was his future.

“Ciao signor William!”

“Ciao Cino, what’s new?”

“Nothing is ever new in Rome signor. But what of you, how is your wife?”

“Good, she’s good. We really haven’t brought anything new I suppose.” At Cino’s puzzled expression he added. “From Sunnydale.”

Realizing it was meant a joke the old, fat Italian grinned lightly and shook his head. “You try too hard.”

Spike sighed. “S’pose I should be going. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Si signor, aribederchi.” (If someone could get me the real spelling for ah-ree-buh-dair-chee, it would rock)

With a sigh he took one last drag from his cigarette then tossed it and began his way home. Buffy would be in bed, he was sure, she always went to bed before six a.m. It was quarter to, and even if at this moment she wasn’t in bed, she was probably getting ready. He took a shortcut through an old alley, smiled as dawn’s first rays began to spread, it was bliss, not having to worry about staying out of the light, bliss which he enjoyed with his wife by his side, and at this thought, his mind strayed to his marriage.

Though not perfect, married life was the heaven he’d always dreamed of. Mainly because he could share it with Buffy. She was the light he woke up to every day, and the soft darkness that sang him to sleep, they often sang to each other, softly so the world couldn’t hear, personal, tuneless songs of desire and love, loss and gain, life after resurrection. Just the feel of her breath on his ear could make him swoon with his love for her, the feel of her against him, her warm, satiny skin beneath his hands as he stroked her arms. He closed his eyes and sighed, soon he would be home and could hold her again.

Opening his eyes he grimaced at the down sides. They did occasionally fight, as most couples do. At first the fights were little teases on days when either was in a really bad mood but of late it had been worse, lately it had been serious. Though he knew she was needed to fight here he had openly shared his desperate desire for them to have a baby, and she had at first gently reminded him she couldn’t fight at any point of pregnancy, all’s it would take was one hit . . . He had let it go, then brought it back up and practically begged her but this time she had lashed out, her emotions exposed more than she had liked.

“Look, William, I just . . . I’m not ready!”

He stepped into the hotel and shook his head, he couldn’t force her, and he certainly couldn’t hurt her anymore, so he had dropped it. In his dreams they could have a baby, and at least for now, that was more than enough. Making his way up to their room he opened the door with the little gold key and stepped in, threw his coat onto a chair for now and went to the bathroom, washed up and came out. With a deep sigh he made his way into the bedroom and gazed upon her, curled up in the bed, her cheek cradled against her hands, she was awake, her eyes open and teary, and so concerned he stripped to his boxers and climbed in next to her, took her arms and brought her back against him. She turned, buried her face in his chest and wept a bit, he remained silent until she calmed.

“Buffy, what’s wrong, pet?” He whispered, rubbing her shoulders and nuzzling the top of her head with his chin, she drew in a shaky, sob racked breath and whispered.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, I was just . . . I was thinking about Mom.” Without his vampire senses, he couldn’t tell if she was lying between her sobs, the stuttering could be emotion caused.

“Aw, it’s ok love. You’ve done your mum right proud.” He laid back and brought her to lay against him. “She loves you, she watches over us and I’m damn sure she wouldn’t want you crying over her. Death isn’t something to cry over, you know that.”

“Bull, you’ve done it!”

“That I have, (and it was SO sad when he did!) but I felt better when I got to hold you again, you’ll feel better when you meet up with her.”

“You don’t meet up with people in heaven, it’s just a bunch of souls mingling.” She scoffed lightly.

“And one of them probably was and will again be your mum. You said there was no pain there.” he told her simply, snuggling closer to her small form.

She paused against him and laughed. “You’re right! It probably was her!”

“See? Allllwwaaaays trust daddy!”

She gasped and laughed as his mouth found her shoulder. “Oh m . . . William, oh God, stop . . .!”


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His deep blue eyes shot to the phone as it rang, God he hated that bloody thing! Never any good calls, he wanted to have a J-O-B, not sex with a minor! He sighed and strolled over to it, stretched then picked it up, not rushing to speak into the receiver. “Burger King, what’s your beef?”

“Uh, right, hello. May I speak to William Crichton please?”

“This is him, who’s ‘is?”

“My name is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, Mr. Crichton. I work at Wolfram and Hart, here in LA.”

“Wait a second, aren’t you the poor English bloke Angel’s got crackin’ codes?”

“You . . . Might say that, I do more than crack codes. Listen, I’m calling to offer you a job here.”

Spike leaned against the wall and shook his head. “No candoozles, can’t leave Rome.”

“You, can’t? Why not?”

“Well see the wife’s working here and no way in hell am I leaving her, and no way in hell is she ever gonna come with me there. Sorry.”

“You’re married?”

“Aye.”

“To whom?”

“Well her name’s Buffy. Why?”

“Oh dear God if Angel found out . . .”

“Oh bloody hell what does he care? Point is she’s happy. Tell that old codger. . .”

“Listen, Spike, Wesley’s offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity and if you plan to support Buffy I suggest you take it.”

“Um, Angel? Don’t eavesdrop, please?” Wesley inquired.

They heard Angel hang up and Wesley finished. “Interested or not?”

Spike sighed and rubbed his eyelids. “What kind of a job are we talking?”


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He heard her come out into the room and he flinched, terrified of telling her but knowing he had too. She smiled and bent down, kissed his lean throat and murmured an ‘I love you’. He sighed and turned, stood from his chair and enveloped her in his arms, burying his face in her downy hair, she could tell he was keeping something from her and curious, she brought him away and asked a question with her eyes. He frowned and his face contorted with pain. “Buffy, this isn’t easy, so you’d better sit down.”

He sat next to her and explained everything, Wesley had inquired on him to experiment with some stuff, work in the lab with him and his partner, Fred Burkle. He would be paid, a small amount but money none the less. After he finished, once she knew when he was set to leave and when he could visit she stood and moved to a window, crossing her arms over herself. “It’s all wrong Spike.”

He frowned, she never called him that, and her words disturbed him all the more. “What makes you say that, love? And what do you mean, what’s wrong?” He looked at her tear stained face, and followed her own eyes to her hand. “You mean you think . . . You think the marriage is wrong?”

She sighed. “Spike ever since we got married something has come to tear us apart. It just, it isn’t meant to be.”

“Hey!” He moved to her and aggressively took her arms. “Now I know this is hard, I know we’ve had problems and I know you’ve tried. But I am not about to let you stand there and try to end it all. Buffy I love you, I haven’t stopped and it hasn’t become any less, it’s become more. Do you really want to just end it?”

“No!” she said almost too quickly. “But what do we do?”

He loosened his grip and brushed some hair from her face, kissed her gently. “We leave Europe, go to L.A and help save the world there, this isn’t where we belong, pet.”

She looked down at the street below, then back at him and in a cracked, soft voice she gently agreed. “You’re right, we don’t.”


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Late, why the hell were people coming into the picture always late!? He gazed at his watch again and frowned, Angel wouldn’t like this. But what could be done, have the ex-vampire and his wife transported by the beam aboard the Starship Enterprise? No, they hadn’t been able to afford it, but soon, very soon. This was, after all, Wolfram and Hart.

“Not here yet, Wes?”

He gazed up at Fred, she smiled softly at him as he sighed and shook his head. “No, not yet. Finished with the ballord demon?”

“Yeah, took a little longer than I had planned, they’re slippery little suckers.” she giggled girlishly and he smiled softly to himself at the sound.

“Hey Wes, that Crichton guy is out front, he just pulled up.”

“Thank you Harmony.” He stood and followed by Fred went to the front and opened the door for them. “You’re late.”

Spike looked up at Wesley, agitation in his eyes. “A wizard is never late, master Dorkins, nor is he early, he arrives precisely after teatime.”

Wesley’s expression remained passive, only until Spike’s wife stepped forward, he had forgotten about Buffy, luckily not in accommodations. She looked tired, and he could tell it wasn’t just jet lag, something was seriously wrong. This girl had something on her mind, and her bombshell husband was either too blonde to notice (A/N: I have nothing against blondes just so you know) or he knew and didn’t want to push it.

She smiled weakly at him and mumbled a little ‘hello’, then they allowed Wesley to guide them inside. They were silent, mostly, other than occasional throat clearing. Finally, just as they approached the lab Wesley asked. “I trust your room suits your tastes?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s good, we don’t plan on being here permanently.” Spike grumbled.

Wesley froze just outside the door. “But you said . . .”

“I said I’d take the job until we found a decent place to live, far away from L.A. and Sunnydale, which will be God only knows when, but hopefully not long.”

“You don’t have to be so short with me!” Wesley opened the door. “You aren’t the only one in a bad mood.”

He led them in and gave them a basic tour, as Fred went back to work with the ballord demon, then the two left to go back to their hotel and rest. Minutes later as Wesley tried to calm down Angel strolled in, file folder in hand. “Wes did Spike ever show?”

“Oh, yeah he just left.” Wesley rubbed his temples. “And I’m beginning to regret having called him.”

Angel nervously scraped his shoe against the ground, watched it and looked up, asked. “Was . . . She with him?”

“Yeah, and she didn’t look so great. Ill, fatigued.” Wesley shook his head. “She’s got something bothering her and she obviously doesn’t want to tell him, and he obviously is getting frustrated with her.”

Angel bit his lip. “But other than that, you think they’re ok?”

Wesley sighed and nodded. “Yes, they seemed very much happy and in love, both of them. Don’t worry Angel, I don’t think he’s using her.”

Angel smiled lightly and shook his own head. “That’s just what I hate, he just may love her, and she him.”

Wesley frowned and stood, patted his friend’s shoulder, Angel looked at him, then around and left quickly.


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This was getting ridiculous. Every bit of it; her not talking to him and becoming so tied up, he often would catch her crying, and the past couple of weeks she’d been ill, by her own doing, he suspected. She was punishing herself for something, and he was going crazy trying to figure it out. She was very tired, all of the time, and she often snapped at the simplest of his questions, but the line was drawn, he didn’t start working until tomorrow and he was determined to find out what was going on, even if it killed him.

When she awoke he was waiting for her in the kitchen/dining area. She entered cautiously as if waiting for an attack, but he was silent, just drank his coffee and read his paper, when she drew near he looked up and smiled at her genuinely. “Good morning sweetheart.”

“Good morning.” she said softly. She bent down and kissed his cheek, he kissed hers and so she sat, poured herself a cup of coffee and he began to slowly address the situation.

“Buffy I know lately questions have been absurd to you but I also know you aren’t yourself. Love, what’s wrong?” she looked steadily away. “You can tell me, I’m your husband. Do you think I’ll get mad?”

She shook her head, obviously holding back tears.

“Buffy,”

“I’m scared.” she whispered with a shudder.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him, those huge green eyes he loved so much overflowed with tears and she whispered ever so lightly. “William, I’m pregnant.”

He was death after she uttered those words. Life drained from his ears as he exploded with happiness and he ran over, swept her up and ran kisses over her delicate throat. “Oh Buffy, Buffy! It’s gonna be ok I’ll protect you, both of you, oh pet!” She sobbed and he sat, held her against hm as the shock wore off. “Oh I promise, it’s going to . . . To . . . How far long?”

“Almost three months.” She stuttered.

“Are you upset?”

“No, just scared. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never do that.” He kissed her eyelids softly. “Just think Buffy, a baby! Our very own baby! With a little face and little hands and crying and feeding, diapers, playing, bathing . . .”

She laughed and nodded. “It will be great, won’t it?”

“Oh Angel’s gonna be pissed but I don’t care!” He wiped her tears away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure how and I wasn’t sure how I was going to do this but you suggested we leave and it was perfect, I would have miscarried there for sure.”

He rolled up the bottom of her tank and kissed her belly lovingly. She giggled and whispered. “I hope she looks like you.”

“HE will look like me,” he grinned in triumph. “I want a son first.”

“Too bad, bad ass. I know it’s gonna be a girl.”

“Oh really?”

“Yup.”

“How?”

“It’s instinct.”


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Angel hadn’t taken to the news well but soon he would be bringing gifts and not long after that he would come by and help Spike select a boy’s name, along with Buffy’s input, even though she said it was useless. The months flew by and they rented an apartment, readied a room for the baby, which it was now apparent Buffy was carrying. Dawn came to stay with them so Buffy wasn’t ever alone while he worked, and the sisters tossed up two girls names, and agreed with Spike that the final selection would be made at the child’s birth.

She was due any day now, and had the jitters about the actual childbirth, even though she’d experienced more than her share of it, she wasn’t a big fan of pain. In fact, she feared nothing more than the idea of giving birth to this child. She had expressed this with her husband and both had agreed that it would be a natural childbirth, but with lots and lots of ice and water. And she could injure and scream at him as much as she pleased during it.

The big day was a foggy morning, there was a slight chill and the sun was hidden behind the clouds, but their child would not wait for sunshine to appear. Buffy was admitted at around 6:00 in the morning, and she was in labor all throughout the afternoon, and it wasn’t until early in the evening when they took her into the delivery room. Excited Spike rushed in to be at her side, and around 40 minutes later their daughter was born. Unlike most men the sight did not bother him and he looked up at his wife after he had cut the cord, glee spread over his face like butter on bread. She smiled back at him, exhausted, weeping as the little girl was laid on her stomach.

She only was allowed to hold her for a moment, then they took her to check her out, put eye-drops in her eyes and clean her up. Around a half hour later, once the afterbirth was taken care of and Buffy had gotten to rest with her husband nearby, holding her hand as she dozed when the baby was brought back, Spike gently woke Buffy and she looked at the nurse, smiled and whispered. “Let him hold her.”

The nurse obliged, handed the infant to her father and showed him how to properly hold her, then she left and Buffy turned on her side to watch him with his newborn daughter, she smiled softly as he gazed down at the new life he had helped to create. William the Bloody had only ever taken life and now, he had created it, with her help of course. He was glowing, she remarked to herself, and tears were beginning to spill from his eyes. He turned to his wife and whispered softly. “What shall we call her?”

She thought back to hers and her sister’s chosen names, and she smiled more, shifted a bit in the uncomfortable bed and asked him. “What about Ann?” Her eyes sparkled with her liking of the name, despite her own affiliation with it.

“Ann, Ann, yes I like that. Well my beautiful little Ann,” he kissed Ann’s little forehead. “Welcome home.”

Buffy laughed. “She isn’t home yet.”

He sighed and sat back, looked from the baby to his wife. “She is as long as she’s in my arms.”


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Epilogue, 3 years later

Winter had set in several weeks earlier, causing the sky to darken and it’s usual clouds to thicken and multiply. By the first week of December it was nonstop rain every day, all day long in Los Angeles, which meant the faster you ran form your car the sooner you got inside where you were safe, warm and dry.

This was one of many reasons Buffy wasn’t letting her husband take their toddler to work to show off, as he always did on Saturdays, and though he was upset at his wife’s gentle, persuasive kisses and whispers he had relented, kissed his wife and daughter goodbye and left for another boring day in the lab, or so he hd expected. After Angel, Wes, Fred, Spike and a now deceased Lorne, Gunn and Lindsey had fought and banished Wolfram and Hart, Wes and Fred had started an open relationship, and today they had announced that they planned to marry in the summer.

As foretold in the prophecy of Shanshu, Angel was made mortal, and had started a anything but private relationship with Nina, causing much of a stir, considering Nina was a werewolf. No matter, Angel didn’t care.

Buffy and Angel had sorted things out a few months after Ann was born, much to both’s relief and her husbands too, now she wasn’t hiding from Spike’s sire continuously. He had become an uncle to Ann, often over just to play with her and whenever they needed a sitter he was willing to drop anything (including Nina) to come watch her.

Buffy fixed herself some tea, Ann was still asleep and Spike had left ten minutes ago, so she thought she would spend some down time with herself for a change, it had been years since she’d actually been able to sit down and assess her life, see all the changes for good and bad that she’d gone through. She smiled as she looked out the window at the already busy L.A. streets and found within that it had all been worth it, and given the chance, she would do it all again.

She sighed as William came to mind, he’d begged Angel relentlessly to stay home today, it was their third anniversary and he hated that he couldn’t share it with her, but that’s how it had to be to keep food on the table, and even though it upset her, she understood and had urged him to go so he could be home soon enough and they could at least spend the evening together.

Spike’s newly assigned job was Illyria, whom had taken the form of Gunn, she was an ancient being, once the ruler of the earth and Spike’s main job was to study her, everything about her. Her habits, her strength, the way she spoke, moved and most of all how she studied him. He had fun with it, just the thought that she was a female in a male body would send him to laughter and she would go off, rambling about how his kind used to fall on their knees before her, and he constantly reminded her of the changes time produced.

She sipped the tea and moved to put her cup in the kitchen when a cool, mellow voice sent her flesh to goose-bumps. She turned to the door, and gazed upon it’s owner with a sparkle in her eyes and a soft, surprised smile. He moved closer as he sang, but never touched her as his words moved through her, sending her to a blush.

“You know, you really have me spinnin’. And it looks like you could have me forgettin’ all my sins. And while you do I’m telling you this is the happiest I’ve been. We fin’ly live in peace! I know, I should go. But I’m drunk with love, and just cannot blink, you got me startin’ to think, I was not a beast. And that burns me more, than any water blest, since my heart can beat it swells up my chest, and I’m so glad, you’ve done your best so stay with me. And we can be in peacem we can speak our needs, we can take our love and bury it, let it grow a family tree, we can lay our bodies down and fin’ly find our sweet release. We fin’ly live in peace, and now we fin’ly live in peace.”

She finally sighed and met his gaze. “I told you to go to work, William.”

He sighed and shrugged. “I will, but I needed to finish that, better than watching ol’ blue all day.”

“William you’re going to be late . . .”

“But as long as I show close to being on time they don’t care. Listen, just for a moment.” She steadied and he embraced her, placed a gentle kiss to her pursed with worry lips. “I just want you to know, Angel’s watchin’ little Ann tonight, I’m taking you to dinner, so be ready by six, he’ll come straight up while you run down. I love you.”

She smiled and relaxed, shared a quick kiss with him. “I love you too, now get lost before I throw you out.”

He laughed. “Yes ma’am, happy anniversary.” he began to move out when she smiled devilishly and turned back to call out to him.

“Oh William, let me walk you to the car.” He nodded and she hurried to walk with him down the stairs (baby monitor in hand) and out to the front of the building. Once he was safelt in the car and ready to go she smiled, leaned into the window and said. “Don’t get wine ready for tonight, it won’t be good for the baby.”

Confused he slowly nodded and saluted her and once she was in he drove off, he pondered her meaning and it wasn’t until he reached Wolfram and Hart that he understood. “I’M GONNA BE A DADDY! AGAIN!”


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Ok, that’s it. Hope you liked it, sorry it was so long. R&R.