The Slayer at the End of the World
©2005 Evenstar



Chapter 1

The peaceful sound of birdsong surrounding him gave him hope in a strange sort of way. As did the rustling of the trees around him when the cool spring wind danced through the forest. The sun shone and cast lacy shadows over the mossy forest bed. Spike sighed and let the warmth infuse his body. For over one hundred years the vampire had been able to walk in the sun without burning and every day astonished him, and heartened him. He couldn't remember exactly when it had happened. It was decades after the final battle with the Senior Partners, fighting side by side with Angel. He had no knowledge as to whether his grandsire or Drusilla were still in the world, but a tiny part of him hoped they were and had found peace. They were still family afterall.

Coming into the sun had literally been like waking from a dream. As it had happened, Spike had gotten on the bad side of a rather powerful and baneful witch. In the end, he'd put a stop to her evil ways, but not without paying the price. She'd put a curse on him that had put him to sleep for forty years. He groggily came out of her cave into the noonday sun in all its glory and didn't turn to dust. After regaining some of his strength and muscle bulk, he set out to find his path again. Spike had always been able to adapt and it was what had enabled him to survive to his four hundredth birthday. He'd marked the day with a drink, remembering his past and those he'd loved. His last thoughts always to be of his Slayer. His Buffy.

He didn't feel guilt over the fact that he still loved her best, even after the other women he'd loved over the centuries. She'd been the impetus for his journey on the long and winding road of redemption. She would always be the one for him. On his birthdays he'd shed a year's worth of tears, saving them for this day. He cried for the friends and lovers he'd lost and for the son he'd shared a day with. Discovering he could have children was a miraculous moment for him and contrarily, the source of his greatest anguish. He'd married a beauty from Israel called Naomi. He'd been travelling for years without direction, merely going to wherever struck his fancy at the time. He'd loved her dearly and meant it when he said it. They settled in for a simple Tel Aviv life. He had no doubt when she told him of the child to come that it was his. He knew it in his blood. He knew he'd changed in more ways than simply the ability to be in the sun. If the Powers That Be couldn't give him the Shanshu, they'd at least gifted him with a few aspects of humanity.

There was a car accident.

A random event. And all his dreams were shattered. The baby was delivered prematurely from a dead mother. Spike had named his son William and stayed with him in the hospital until his tiny body could no longer fight to live. He was simply born too soon. At the time Spike had grieved with such anguish that even the Powers heard him and pitied him. After burying his family, the vampire was shown in a dream the doings of a beast that had broken loose from a prison in another dimension and was enslaving a village in Peru. Fueled by grief and loneliness, Spike submersed himself in his good deeds. As he did so, little by little he was shown that the world - though cruel at times - was still beautiful. He vowed however, never to let himself love again. Never father children. The risk was too great, even for the bravest warrior who walked the Earth.

He'd held true to his promises to himself until he heard tell tale of a Slayer unlike any other. When the generation of Slayers created from the Scythe at the closing of the Sunnydale Hellmouth had all died, it was back to one Slayer at a time. He met them occasionally. Sometimes he trained them and passed on his stories. Other times he had to fight for his life, soul be damned.

Casting a glance to the skies he estimated that it was past noon. He'd been walking through the forest of primarily bamboo trees since before dawn. Behind him were miles of untamed land and in the wilds of the Jiangxi Province in China. He'd made the effort some years ago to speak the language which procured him reliable information and directions for what it was that he sought.

A few months ago he'd been sitting in a cafe in San Francisco's Chinatown, for the most part eavesdropping on conversations. He'd been living up in Seattle for several years, spending the majority of his time by himself with a guitar overlooking Lake Washington. It always amazed him how the cities had persevered through wars, and the ravages of Mother Nature. It gave him comfort to know that Big Ben still chimed on the hour.

Spike had overheard the conversation of a son having returned home from visiting his father's village and the whispers of a strange legend in a haunted forest. The village had been plagued by a ruling family of demons that demanded the first born son of each family as homage. Powerless, they were about to acquiesce, but then she appeared.

The woman was young and small in stature, but with eyes of green that blazed with all the power of Heaven behind them. She slayed them all. And from the way the son told the story that he had been told, she'd been poetry in motion. When the storyteller got to the part where the Slayer asked for a nonfat yogurt for her troubles, Spike nearly fell off his chair.

After gaining as much information as he could from this random man in a cafe, Spike was on his way to China for the first time since the Boxer Rebellion. The more he'd listening to the stranger's story, the more he convinced himself that the Slayer was Buffy. It wasn't entirely blind faith that compelled him to travel to the other side of the world. There was a sudden stirring in his soul that was like a voice in the distance. He had to follow.

Finding the village was no trouble, especially now that there was no language barrier. But finding someone who would disclose information about the supposed Warrior in the Woods was another matter. Spike was stonewalled every step of the way. That was until an elder of the village, one whose own mother had been a Slayer - asked her great-great-granddaughter to send for the pale man with the white hair. Spike had bleached his hair again after eons of wearing it natural. He wanted to be as he was in Sunnydale, just in case she remembered him. He'd also donned a black leather duster as close to his original as he could manage.

Though he wasn't completely ignorant of ancient ways, Spike was still discombobulated when he was asked to participate in a ceremony to be granted an invitation to the elder's house. Over tea, the woman listened to the vampire's tale of his love for the Slayer and the final battle to close the Hellmouth. When he was done and near tears, she told him to head west towards the abandoned monastery three days journey into the forest. The elder called the Slayer a force of nature, one that walked the perilous edge between woman and beast; one so lost that no one could find her. But Spike knew he could. And if by some stroke of madness Buffy had been resurrected, or a by a miracle from Heaven she'd been returned to the world, then he would do anything to be near her again. She was the champion of the people, but she'd always just been his girl.

Buffy had been his lodestar. In all the centuries of his afterlife, he remembered the details of her voice, her eyes, her body, her soul, better than anyone else's. She was still his light, even after all this time. And he still followed her. At least, he hoped and prayed it was her. He'd always imagined that Buffy had lived out her natural life, maybe even had children of her own with a new bloke. He'd never had the courage to find out. When he thought about it, he realized he was unaware of the fate of any of them. He always supposed he'd just know instinctively if she was gone, but he'd never felt it. Having ignored his instincts for so long had his emotions in knots and his mind plagued by questions he couldn't answer.

The trek wasn't arduous and was in fact rather pleasant. There was little wildlife besides the birds and small mammals, but the forest felt truly alive and teeming with mystic energies. It was a well-balanced place; a safe haven. It was no wonder that a Slayer would seek Sanctuary here and why monks had centuries ago. He had made good time and expected to reach the monastery by morning if he walked on through the night. In the pack on his back he had a few items of necessity, such as bags of blood as well as mementos he hoped would please Buffy.

By night the forest had quieted down to near perfect silence; the only sound his enhanced hearing could detect beyond insects were his own footfalls on the soft earth. There was a definite bite to the air and he buttoned up his duster to keep the chill out. He still preferred his temperature to be warm if he could help it. It was when he was concentrating on the task of bundling himself up that she pounced on him. Shifting immediately into game face to enhance his vision and senses, Spike managed to shrug off his opponent a split second before the stake was to pierce his heart. He rolled away and snapped back up to his feet, but this time he took a punch across his jaw and stumbled back until he was halted by the trunk of a tree. The demon face melted away when he saw who his attacker was.

"Buffy!" he exclaimed, joy evident in his voice. She didn't so much as flinch when he spoke her name, but advanced with stake poised ready to dust him.

It was a struggle to get rid of his backpack, but once he had he was able to move more freely. The leather of the coat made him seem like a bird floating around her as she rained kicks and punches at him along with jabs to his chest with the stake. There was no glimmer of recognition in the Slayers eyes and Spike knew he had to be sharp, or he'd be dust before he'd had a chance to get through to her.

She'd forgotten that he knew her every move. As they fought - their dance as lyrical and beautiful as it was deadly - Spike took in her appearance. She was not as he remembered, but he didn't expect her to be the young sunkissed Californian he'd first seen dancing and swaying to music in a club. This Buffy looked pale and tragic. She was thin and wiry and any womanly curves were hidden under her dark robe. Her hair didn't shine in the moonlight, but was dull against the black of night. Her eyes were dangerous and feral and Spike knew that if he didn't get through to her, they'd go on trading blows till dawn.

"Buffy, love, it's me. It's Spike. Remember? Sunnydale? Hellmouth?" She seemed to ignore the sound of his voice and punched him square in the nose. "Ow! Bloody hell! Not the nose! If you don't stop to listen, pet, I'm going to have to get serious."

He was surprised to hear her utter an honest to goodness growl and lunge for him. Spike slipped to the side and kicked her aside, letting her crash to the forest bed. He felt a pang of remorse, but silently promised to make it up to her later. She was getting angry and Spike knew that too often that it empowered her, but sometimes made her reckless. A straight punch was predicted and Spike countered it with a move that had always proved successful. He twisted her arm under and around her back while his arm went around her waist. He pulled her close while she struggled against him.

"Bit too much Slayer in there, pet, and not enough Buffy." His face changed and she felt his fangs graze her neck. She stiffened against him. "Don't worry, I love you." And with that his fangs descended and tore through her flesh.

dreamgirl4eva - The notion of sensing familial vampires through sire-childe bonds is a fan fic invention and not something that was explored on the show, therefore it's not something I choose to use in this fic.

hollowtear, Steph, Bernardette, Pin, Franchesca, s.p. hudson - Thank you kindly for the lovely reviews, encouragement and support. I hope you continue to enjoy it.

***

Chapter 2

He held the unconscious Slayer through most of the night. She was out cold, but still very much alive. Taking some of her blood was the only thing he could think of to subdue her without hurting her and it was also a way for him to reclaim her. He needed to get through to her and help her remember their past. Until then, he was content enough to hold her close and listen to her heart beat. She was alive and still young. And definitely as beautiful as he remembered, despite a few changes here and there to her appearance. He was full of hope as he fell asleep.

When he awoke she was gone. He wasn't entirely surprised, but he was a little amazed that she hadn't killed him in his sleep. His eyes squinted against the morning sun as he sat himself up. He inhaled deeply and turned his head in her direction upon catching her scent. She was standing not too far from him in a clearing, watching him in fascination. He stood and boldly walked towards her until they stood six feet apart. Buffy looked up to the sun, then back at him. Her brow furrowed, not able to comprehend why he wasn't burning.

"Buffy?" he spoke softly. "Do you remember me? Spike?"

"Spike?" she repeated. The name was familiar, but she couldn't quite turn the corner in her mind. Her hand closed tightly around an amulet that hung around her neck. Spike focused upon it, making out that it seemed to be like onyx, black and shiny.

"I know I'm in there somewhere, love. What about Dawn? Your sister?"

"Sister....Dawnie? She...she died. They all died." Now both hands were holding the talisman and Spike found himself unnaturally attracted to it.

"You're not alone, Buffy, not anymore. If you could remember me, you'd know it would all be alright. I love you."

"You're a monster." Her comment stung but he let it go. As she spoke she'd touched the healing puncture wounds on her neck.

"Had to do it, pet. You were trying kill me at the time." He spotted a tiny glimmer from her talisman that seemed to emanate from inside and was not reflected from the sun. "What have you got there?" He took a step forward and she rushed backwards. Spike halted and raised his hands in supplication. "Woah! Not going to try and take it from you. Talk to me, please."

Still clutching her amulet, she searched her mind for the right word. Ever since early that morning when she'd waken in Spike's loving embrace, she'd felt an emerging familiarity with him. She understood the words he spoke, but his presence was like that of a long faded dream.

"Wi...Willow." Spike smiled, delighted that she was drawing on names from her past.

"Got that pretty bauble from Willow?" Buffy nodded. "Can I see?" The moment he opened his hand to her, the Slayer from the night before returned. Her face grew stern as a veil seemed to fall over her and Spike knew he'd misstepped. He'd thought she was going to attack, but instead she bolted into the forest. Spike snapped into action and followed after her. He wasn't about to let her out of his reach after finding her again. She knew her way around these woods sure enough, but Spike tracked her easily. "Bloody hell, Buffy! Stop running!"

When he saw his opportunity, he took it. Rushing at her lower half he tackled her down to the ground. Because her hands still clutched her necklace, when she went over it was torn from her and propelled out of her hand. She screamed as they both watched it fly through the air. It shattered against a rock. Buffy's small body suddenly arched in a violent spasm and her cry reverberated through the air. Spike watched, horrified, as her body was enveloped in a blinding light.

When it was over she lay beside him sobbing, shaking and writhing. He remembered what it felt like for him and understood her pain. He understood the trauma of suddenly having your soul restored.

***

Everything was bright and loud and Buffy was unable to control the sobs that wracked her body. Spike crawled over and held her until her sobs turned to coughs, then quiet whimpers. They lay in the sun for a time, until finally Buffy composed herself. She sat up, sighed heavily and looked at Spike. Her emotions were plain enough to see. She was anguished, but grateful he was there with her.

Spike rose to his feet and offered the Slayer his hand. Buffy accepted and rose as well. She tugged him towards the direction of the monastery, but Spike resisted and pulled her in the other direction. "Have to go back for m'pack, love. Got a few things with me I need. There's a few things for you, too." She acquiesced and followed as they strolled back through the forest.

After another two hours of walking the monastery came into view. It was small by comparison to others of the region and so secluded and hidden among that trees that one could easily miss it. It was made of primarily black granite that had been polished to a smoothness only centuries of weather could achieve. It was breathtaking. The inside was clean and sparse with an open air garden in the center of what were two walls of cells and two walls of other rooms, such as a kitchen and a dojo.

Spike allowed himself to admire the pond of koi surrounded by tiny red Chinese maples. The sound of falling water from a fountain into the pool echoed all around them. This place was still a holy one; still a sanctuary. He was glad to have found Buffy here and hoped that even without her soul, she'd been able to find peace here. Her grip tightened on his hand he turned back to look at her. She was still crying, but her eyes were full of light and life. Already the change had come upon her. He'd been right all those years ago when he'd named his soul a spark. There were fires burning in her again and the girl he loved and remembered was coming back to him.

"Can you say my name for me, love? Show me you remember just a little?" he bade.

"Spike," she replied instantly, smiling to herself and proud that she'd got it so quickly. But then her brow furrowed and she let go of his hand.

"What is it? Buffy?"

"William." Her hand covered her mouth to muffle a scream. Seconds later her hands were gripping tightly to the leather of his coat as a new wave of anguish enveloped her.

"Buffy?!"

"Oh god, they took him from me...William. I have to find him, please help me!"

"William? Do you mean me?" She shook her head. All her memories were coming to the forefront of her mind. Images, sounds and feelings assaulted her psyche that had been repressed for centuries. Her mind and her soul had locked itself upon one person and it wasn't the one who stood with her now.

"My...my son." Spike flinched and closed his eyes. He told himself he'd heard wrong, but her reaction confirmed her turmoil over a lost child. The skies above had begun to cloud over and it would begin to rain soon.

"Let's get inside, love. Then we'll talk."

Holding her close he guided her around the perimeter of the garden until she indicated where it was that she slept. The room itself was clean, but sparse and not particularly welcoming. It felt cold to the vampire, and in more than just temperature. He dropped his pack and guided her over to sit on the bed. He knelt before her and took her hands in his, mirroring a scene they'd played together eons ago. He was scared to hear this story of hers, remembering another little boy named William that had been lost. But he owed Buffy this moment and would gladly give her much more.

"What happened to him, love? Your son?"

"I...I didn't want to let him go, I swear I didn't."

"Of course not."

"I loved him! But he was in danger...because of me."

"On account of you being the Slayer?"

She nodded, her voice barely coming out as a whisper. "He was so tiny...so perfect. He looked so much like his daddy, so beautiful. I barely had any time with him...they took him away."

"Who did, sweetheart?"

"I...I don't remember! Why can't I remember?"

"Shhh, pet, give it time. When was this?"

"I don't know."

"Who was there with you? Was Willow there?"

"She said she could take away my pain....she gave this to me...It was Willow! " Her hand left Spike's and went to her throat where her amulet had been. Finding it missing she grew frantic, but he moved on to the bed with her and pulled her close.

"Willow took your soul away, so you wouldn't be able to miss your son. I don't care if she thought she was helping, it was bloody cruel."

"I want my baby, Spike." She looked at him with eyes full of woe, and tears streaming down her cheeks. He kissed her forehead and encouraged her to lay down. He covered her with a woolen blanket. Without much of an internal debate, he lay down with her, enveloping her in his arms. She cried for a while longer until sleep claimed her. With a heavy heart, he cuddled her small, shaking body and whispered his love in her ear.

He woke up to the sound of pouring rain, the echoes of which surrounded the small room like a symphony of textured sounds as it beat upon the roof. The wind hissed through the trees and made the hollow bamboo wind chimes outside wail like lost souls. His position hadn't changed in the few hours he'd slept. It was the middle of the night, with dawn still many hours away. Buffy was seated at the foot of the bed, her knees hugged close to her chest as she watched him.

"You always looked so peaceful when you slept. I never forgot. Even when I didn't remember who you were or what we were to each other, I still kept the image inside my head. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you right away though," she said, a rueful smile coming to her mouth. "I've missed you, Spike." He reached out and touched her toes, finding them cold. The blanket was over him and he quickly sat up and lay it over her.

"Coming back to yourself a bit, love?"

"Yeah, bit by bit. Oh, Spike, this is so strange. It's like waking from a dream and not knowing if this is the real world or if the dream was." He pulled her into his lap, bundling her up in the blanket and the length of his duster. She fingered his collar, then patted his chest. "This isn't the same coat."

"Nah, lost the original ages ago...it happened in Italy when Angel and I...nevermind."

"Go on, please. Do you still see him, is he alive?"

"Last I saw of him, yeah. It's been sixty years though. Still hear about him. It's out there, big brooding champ as always. Do you remember that Angel took control of Wolfram and Hart? The lawyers? He and I got sent on this wild goose chase 'round Rome."

"You let yourself slip. You died wearing your coat. How did you come back?"

"Was trapped inside the amulet."

"For how long?" The vampire cleared his throat and look away, outside the open window opposite them. The storm was growing in intensity. "Spike? For how long?"

"Nineteen days."

"You never came for me."

"No, I didn't. I tried to, so many times. I was a coward. I was with Angel, 'course. We were in Rome, so were you, but then we got wind that you were with the Immortal and....I just gave up."

"You would've been too late. William was already gone."

"And so was your soul?"

"Yes." He took her hand in his and tightened his grip on her small body, letting her know she was safe with him.

"Tell me about him, your son."

"He was perfect. How could he not be? He was ours." Spike swallowed the lump that he suddenly felt in his throat while tears immediately sprang to his eyes. It would do no good to berate himself for being a fool and not going to her the second he'd re-corporealized. But it was there nonetheless. The guilt. The anguish. The rage and regret and the infinite sadness that stripped his soul bare in a matter of seconds. Buffy continued and he held on to her every word.

"You can imagine how shocked I was when I found out I was pregnant. I knew our night in the basement was special, but I hadn't expected that. You were a vampire afterall. But I was so happy. I promised I'd make up every bad thing I ever did to you by giving your child the best life I could. I was sad you weren't there, especially when he was born. After one look at his face, I was so at peace. I didn't think I'd be a good mom...I was always so hard. I was good though. All these instincts came alive. I loved him so much."

"Wha...what happened?"

"The Immortal. He wanted William because of who he was; the son of a vampire and a Slayer. At first he played nice, tried to get close, but I didn't trust him. The way he looked at my baby scared me. It was evil. Willow said William had power inside him, and I knew the Immortal wanted it. We thought of everything, I swear we did!"

"Shhh, pet, I believe you."

"Willow said there was a place she could take him. But I couldn't come with him, I had to keep the Immortal away from him. He was three months old. I was still nursing...she said it was for the best.....that...that he'd be safe. I kept telling them, Giles, Dawn, everyone, that it didn't need to be this way, I could protect my own son...but.." Buffy's tears were coming in great deluges as she tried to finish her story. "In the end Willow had to use magic while Dawn took him from my arms. I wanted to die in that second when I lost contact with him. He was crying for me. Willow put the amulet around my neck and said a few words and all of a sudden I didn't care. I could still hear William crying in the distance and I just didn't care...about anything. I felt like that silly robot, programmed to do what I was told, what was expected of me." Her entire body shook and Spike could no longer keep the reign on his emotions any longer.

"Forgive me? Please!" He trembled and she squeezed him with all her might.

"Forgive me, too?" They were silent for a long time, while their tears ran their course and they could conjure the words that had yet to be said. "When were you in Italy?" Buffy said, still cleaving to him and he to her.

"It was May."

"William was gone a month or so. The Immortal and I were dating, if you can call it that."

"Did you ever...you and he?"

"I don't remember. I don't think so. I hope not."

"It's okay, love. Doesn't matter now."

"How long has it been? I know it's been a long time. I know everyone's gone. I don't know why I'm still here."

"It's been almost three hundred years."

"William's been gone a long time then..." Her tears started a new.

"Don't think of it, love. He's grown. Had a family of his own, grown old and left behind a multitude of grandchildren. He's not gone. He's not gone. I had a another, Buffy...and I called him William too."

Buffy was struck by many emotions with that, but loved him enough not to show her jealousy that a little boy other than her own had know his father.

"I'm glad, you deserved that happiness. Were you married?"

"Yes, her name was Naomi. Lovely girl with curly black hair and so full of life. You and she were nothing alike, except you were both strong in spirit. She died and one day after he was born, he did too. He was born too soon, there'd been a car accident. But I'd held him, kissed his face and seen his eyes and loved him."

"How long ago?"

"Almost as long, centuries. There's been no one since." She'd begun stroking his cheek and jaw as he spoke and he leaned into her touch.

"I loved you, Spike, in the Hellmouth. I love you still."

"I'll always love you, Buffy. I love you."

"We're lost Spike." Pressing their forheads together, Spike smiled sweetly.

"Feels like we've just been found, I'd wager."

"But where do we go from here?"

"I don't know, love. For right now though, I think we should sleep until morning's come."

"It feels like we haven't rested in centuries."

"God knows we haven't. Lay with me, Buffy. Let me hold you." They returned to the sleeping positions of before, but this time facing each other. Despite the tears, a few tentative brushing of lips and smiles crossed between them. "Maybe later you could tell me more about our William?"

"I'll tell you everything I remember. He was a real kicker in my last month."

"Bet he was, my boy after all. Another of the miracles I've been graced with beyong my deserving." His voice wavered and Buffy's palm against his cheek soothed him.

"Maybe...maybe we could. I mean, we did before, so maybe..."

"Have another?"

"I know it's like, way too soon...but we can imagine. Can't we?"

"We can. We can dream about it."

She nodded and snuggled down into him. The profundity of what he'd learned this night kept his mind racing and his eyes open for many hours, until he heard the birds singing despite the rain, and let them lull him to sleep.

Sevvy_O, samica, valerie, dreamgirl4eva, Jeni, hollowtear, Seraiza, Franchesca, Demonica Mills, thank you all for reviewing. It's very much appreciated.


Chapter 3

The rain carried on through until morning and was coming down as hard as ever when the pair awoke shortly after dawn. The body heat Buffy provided had barely kept them warm under her thin blankets and his duster. Spike may have taken on a few more human characteristics over the years, but he remained without constant circulation and thus body heat of his own. Buffy was staring at the ceiling and shivering somewhat.

"Been awake long?" he asked, still groggy.

"Most of the night. I was having dreams." She turned over and faced him, giving him a wan smile.

"Good ones I hope." He knew better, but he truly did hope that for once her rest had been a peaceful one. It wasn't. She shook her head.

"I'm remembering, I don't want to. It's painful."

"I know, love. You can talk to me, we could always talk."

"I remember that. Some things are worth remembering, but then..."

"The darker times, the harder times, the ugly times. They're there Buffy, and we can never be rid of them, but there are some beautiful times in our pasts." As his palm came to rest on her cheek, she turned her face into his hand and kissed it. "Tell me more about William."

"His...his eyelashes were dark and long, like yours."

"Bet he was a handsome man."

"He'd have looked just like you. The funniest thing, though, I know babies' eyes are usually blue when they're born, then change later. But only one of William's did! One was blue like yours and another green, like mine."

"Really? He did? That's bloody brilliant!"

"Dawn said that he couldn't decide who to take after, so to be fair he chose us both."

"There must be records we can find - a marriage license, at least. Or his children's birth certificates."

"Yeah." Tears welled up in her eyes again and he shared her sorrow. This time, however, it was Spike that broke with a loud sob that echoed in the small cell.

"I'm so sorry! We could've been a family if I hadn't been such a bloody coward. I missed my son's entire life! And it's my fault you had to give him up. I can't ever undo...how can you ever forgive me? God, Buffy, I want to hold our son!" She kissed him then, to silence him and to comfort him. They cleaved to each other until the latest surge of emotion had been tempered. Spike eventually came back to himself, a little embarrassed. "Such a git, aren't I?"

"You're the most wonderful, beautiful, soulful man in the world. I'll make you a promise, if you'll make one too. When we're ready, we'll have a baby and we'll give it everything we couldn't give William."

"It's not the right time for us, I know that. But thank you for wanting it, saying it. Someday it'll be right."

"Yeah, someday. In the meantime, we need to learn to be us again. It's almost as if we're picking up where we left off. No you don't but thanks for saying it. For your information, I did love you then and my heart was breaking to leave you there, but no more than thinking you died not knowing that you were the love of my life. I know I took too long to realize it, but I did in the end. I still love you."

"Oh love, I know. I know. After so long this poor old sod finally gets it." They shared a kiss and held each other for a while longer, until Buffy followed her body's call to begin her morning routine. There weren't any mirrors in her room and when she returned, still robed in the black homespun, she became self-conscious.

"What is it?" Spike asked, sensing her discomfort.

"I don't have any clothes. I don't have anything, actually. I don't remember when I last did. I have all these flashes of memories, but I'm pretty much picking up where I left off. The day I lost my soul." Her hands went to her hair, noticing for the first time that it was a mess of tangles. She looked at her hands, dirty with black, ragged nails. Her hands went to her face as she realized the state she was in. "Wow...um, guess a couple hundred years without hygiene really catches up with a girl."

"Don't concern yourself with it, pet, it's just dirt, it'll wash off. You're beautiful."

"You're still a good liar, always making me feel better no matter how crummy I really am. I remember, you never once complained about the Doublemeat burger smell."

"Maybe I liked Eau de Doublemeat?" He sighed, sensing her increasing discomfort. "I only ever once kicked you when you were down after that moron Parker and I regretted it ever since, so I wasn't going to do it again. Especially when you were letting me in some."

"I was grateful. You were a sanctuary, even when I tried to make you believe the opposite." He rose from the bed, shrugging out of his coat and came towards her.

"There's bound to be some water around here. I've got a few things in my pack you'll appreciate. Mainly soap. And clothes."

She blushed, she couldn't help it. She quickly hugged him, then took him by the arm and led him from the room and around the covered perimeter of the courtyard. They braved the wind and rain. Almost opposite from where they'd slept was a larger room at the center of which was a basin. It was deep and wide and could easily fit half a dozen people. At the points of north, south, east and west were pits carved out of the floor.

"Do you have your lighter?" Spike withdrew a zippo from his jeans pocket and handed it to her. "Is it the same one?"

"It is indeed. That's the one thing of mine that's still the original. I haven't even had bleached hair for centuries."

"Now, don't ask me how I remember this, but see these smaller basins? There's a valve at the end of each one. It lets in natural gas." With a flick of the lighter near the base of the bowl a soft, low flame that burned both blue and yellow came to life above the small basin. She went around and did the same with the other three until the room was filled with both warmth and a ghostly atmosphere of warm and cool colors. Lastly Buffy came to the bath and turned the two valves at either end. A gush of water came from one end, quickly filling the bath with hot water. Steam engulfed the room and a romantic air settled around them.

"The water comes in fast, but there's a drain too, so the water's always moving. The monks built this sanctuary here because of the natural resources. There are energy lines in the earth and they converge on this site. This place is protected from evil. That's why I was drawn here."

"Do you remember how long it's been?"

"I have no clue. Could be decades; could be centuries. It's been a long time, that much I know. I know that some of the first people I met in the villages are dead now. This must be so hard for you."

"Little bit, but mostly I'm just over the bloody moon that you're alive."

"Am I immortal? I wish I knew. I think I must be. I don't think this is something Willow's done." She looked up at him from her crouch by the pool, her eyes pleading for affirmation from him. He came down to her level and took her hand in his.

"Maybe from when she brought you back from...from Heaven. Got a bit of the angelics going on with you. I've always thought so. Tub's full." Her attention turned from him to the swell of heated water that flowed continuously. It was meant to wash away woes and perpetuate the flow of one's chi. When she'd first tried to use the pool, she'd felt as if she'd somehow tainted it and hadn't since.

"Why don't you get in? I'll nip back and get my pack."

He didn't watch her undress, but instead went quickly to the monk's cell to retrieve the bag full of supplies. He drank down a cold pack of blood, the taste of which was wholly unpleasant in its state, but would serve as adequate nourishment for the time being. He didn't need blood so often as in the past now that normal food seemed to quell his hunger. He'd make a point of feeding Buffy after their bath. He mused to himself that she could use a few more curves.

He returned to the bath house to find Buffy submerged to her neck in the water, steam swirling around her. He knelt down a few paces behind her and brought out a brush and a bar of soap from his pack. She didn't move when he sat behind her on the rim of the pool and gently began to work at the tangles in her long tresses. The combined sounds of the rain outside and the motion of the water as it entered and left the pool was a balm and as the heat permeated her body, Buffy slowly felt herself becoming at ease since so long ago, she did not remember when.

She wondered, as his hands caressed her and tended to her - if she could laugh for him again. Or even just smile and have it be without pretense. She asked herself if they could be lovers and she didn't think of it in the sense of just the act. Could they be together day in, day out in each other's lives? Could he rely on her? Could she do the same with him, or had he changed too much over the centuries in ways that had yet to become apparent?

When the last tangle had been taken care of and the brush laid aside, she felt a kiss pressed to the top of her head. "Much better, love." He hoped that now that small things were being taken care of, that her emotional state would continue to strengthen.

"Thank you." She ran her finger through the lengths, then reached behind her for his hand. "Are you going to come in? Are you cold?"

"You sure?"

"Of course. Do you want..."

"I want! Just give me two shakes n' I'll cannon ball..."

"You will not cannon ball!"

There was a flash of nude flesh as he sunk in beside her. His pale chest was as she remembered, even with the few newer scars. Her palms splayed themselves over his pecs, her fingertips white from the pressure. Facing her, he knelt down, the water coming up to his shoulders. He pulled her close and their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

"It feels so good to hold someone. To hold you. And to be warm again. It's been so cold without you." Her voice was low, uncertain and shaky, but she held him tightly.

"It's over now, precious. Everything's simple from here on out. There's no reason to bother with Slayers or vampires. We can just be Spike and Buffy. We can get a flat in London. Or maybe a cottage out in the country. Or somewhere in California maybe? By the beach?" She sniffled and nodded her head.

"Maybe somewhere more north? With lots of nature, no city noise."

"You got it, pet. Now, let Spike give you a little care?" With a kiss to her forehead he reached over and retrieved a bar of soap. "Let's have a leg then." She lifted one sleek limb from the water and Spike cupped her heal in his hand. He nipped playfully at her ankle as he lathered the soap on her calf before massaging the length down to the tips of her toe. Under his hand, the bar slid down under the water and up her inner thigh. Buffy gasped and shuddered as his fingers swept the edge of her sex. He smirked, classical Spike, and moved back up her leg. She presented her second leg for the same treatment and was rewarded when he boldly stroked between her legs for a moment before once again gliding up the length.

He took her hand in his, giving one arm then the other the same treatment as her legs before coaxing her to face away from him. He didn't so much as wash her back as massage it. The soap caused his hands to move slippery paths over her tense muscles until she was loose and giving little moans of satisfaction. He washed and rinsed her hair before seating himself on one of the submerged seats in the pool and took hold of her waist, pulling her down to him. Leaning her back to his chest she noticed he wasn't especially aroused, but certainly felt the potential. She knew she wanted him, but was hesitant and for now would let him guide them both.

His lips caressed her shoulder, sliding to her neck, then behind her ear. "In over four hundred years of life, you're one of the most wondrous, lovely creatures I've known. I still love you with every fiber of my being. I'm still drowning in you." She went to turn around in his embrace, but he stopped her. "Relax, love. M'not done with your washing up." He demonstrated his point by gliding the soap across her stomach, then up her torso and over her breasts.

When she shuddered under his hands, he smiled,"A might sensitive, aren't you?" He set the soap aside and cupped the two mounds in his hands. His thumbs swept over her nipples and she gasped. As he kneaded the round flesh, he felt her arousal come on stronger. He nudged her legs apart and to either side of his. From her breasts his hands travelled downwards, coming to rest on her inner thighs. He kneaded her muscles, feeling her pussy flutter when his fingers brushed against the lips of her sex.

"Spike!" she exclaimed, writhing in his lap with her head thrown back. "Please!" She tried to push his hands to her center. "I need you now...please, don't make me wait." There was a desperation to her voice that unnerved him. Much against her insistent pleas, he stopped and released her. She was shocked and suddenly very embarrassed. He turned her around and pulled her against him. She was unwilling to meet his eyes.

"Sweetheart, look at me, please?" When she did he saw the uncertainty in her eyes and knew the kind of comfort she needed. "There's not a single reason to be scared. I know that's what you are. But you don't have to take it all at once for fear it'll be gone in the next second. I'm am never never leaving your side. I want to make love with you just as much, but I've waited centuries and we need to do this right. I need to see your eyes, Buffy, when I fill you. I need to feel your breath on my face when you gasp with pleasure. I don't want you to escape, I want it to be like it was in the basement." She understood what it was he was trying to recapture and wanted it too. She was still not used to being with him and couldn't read him as well as in the past. That would change with time.

"Oh Spike. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be apologizing for. Your emotions have been tempered down for a long time, so have mine. Only you could've evoked lust in me...like I'm feeling now. And only you remind me what true love is." Now that he'd engaged her, Buffy began to pay attention to more than just her own needs. Reaching down under the water between them she found his semi-hard cock and became familiar again with the thick weight of it in her hands. It took a little more encouragement than she remembered, but his length grew full and hard. She straddled his hips and guided him to her center.

"Love me?"

"Forever."

"Really forever Spike. You're mine now. And I want you for mine." With that she sunk herself down. Aroused as she was, the time apart made itself known when his girth stretched her almost painfully. Spike cried out in agonized pleasure from the tightness gloving him inch by inch. She persevered until she'd taken him to the hilt. Her breath came out in a shudder. There was a stillness between them, and a blanket of calm completion enveloped them. Spike pulled the wet hair away from her face and closed his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her lips to his.

He nibbled on her bottom lip a little, making her smile as she opened herself to his kiss. There was urgent passion at first that soon became a languorous smooth caress of lips and tongues. They moved together, their pace achingly slow, but meant to be reverent to the joining of two lost souls finally made one. Spike moved them to the center of the pool where Buffy's legs found their way around his waist. The flow and buoyancy of the water made their lovemaking as soft as a sigh, drawing out their pleasure like a slow parade of wind blowing through trees. More than once his deep, throaty groans accompanied her high pitched cries as the pleasure and tension mounted.

Through all this their eyes remained closed, savoring the sense of touch above all else. That was until Spike's mouth moved from her lips, across her jaw line and came to rest over the marks he'd placed on her the night before last. Her eyes opened wide and her fingers dug into his back while her pussy clenched around down on him, spurring him on as his mouth clamped over the healing puncture wounds. He teased her with blunt teeth, not opening the wounds again but bringing the blood nearly to bursting through the surface. With this new sensation their bodies surged and rocked with urgency.

Spike felt the pull of her fingers in his hair, bringing him back to her. Buffy locked eyes with him and he saw behind them something he'd never quite been certain of until that very moment. When he'd come to China in search of her he hadn't known what to expect, but in a strange sort of way he had hoped that what awaited him was someone he could learn to know anew. Someone to have a fresh start with.

She was his Buffy. His. She was no longer the girl whose father couldn't be bothered with; the one that had found her first death at sixteen at the hands of the Master. She wasn't the vulnerable teen who'd been demoralized and haunted by Angelus; nor was she Angel's cast off. She wasn't the young woman who had grown up too fast; who had to care for a sister when she didn't have the slightest clue how to yet care for herself. And this wasn't the Slayer suddenly thrust into the role of teacher to dozens of Potentials. Most importantly, he saw that this wasn't the woman who hated her life after being pulled out of Heaven; who used and abused him and enabled him to do the same.

This was the woman who had taken his hand as the fire of his soul threw down the legions of the First Evil. The one whose soul he'd touched with the flame of his own - and the one who'd said 'I love you' and meant it. Her past lay three centuries behind her and her heart was open, her hope renewed and her spirit clean. She was his, finally. Was it having William that did it to her? He thought it likely was.

He saw it all in that flash of her eyes and it was so beautiful he wept.

There was too much emotion washing over Buffy when she saw the tears spill from those blue eyes. She'd felt for decades upon decades that she'd been locked away in a lightless box and he'd come with a key to rescue her. Somehow she'd always known that her soul was close. But it was like William after he was gone. Even now she could still feel the shape and weight of him in her arms. But he wasn't there. It had been the same with her soul. And now she could feel it, an limitless out pouring of love to surround this man she was making love with. She was truly alive again and it was due to his love.

Their climax was sudden. For a moment they'd both been elsewhere, outside of themselves in forms of pure light. A split second later they were snapped back to the moment and it was a swarm of ecstatic cries, pulsing bodies and the culmination of three hundred years of unrequited love. Neither one had remembered how overwhelming the act of sex could be between them. When the release left them and they turned to boneless masses each found themselves weeping and gasping while holding each other. Suddenly over heated, they clamored out of the hot water and to the cool black stone of the floor. The shock against their hot flesh had them shivering in moments, but they rolled into each other and began the dance again.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it's much appreciated.

Chapter 4

After they'd had their fill of each other (for the time being), Spike and Buffy retreated back to the cell they'd been sharing. After some searching, Spike found dry wood to start a fire in the stove at the corner of the room. It was old, but the flute was clean so as not to fill the room with smoke. Buffy lay on the bed dressed in a new pair of jeans and a heavy knit sweater. He'd brought her socks and shoes, but she went without them for now, curled up under his duster. She'd already polished off the energy bars he'd brought with him, but her appetite remained and his was growing after the nourishment from the blood that had gone through his system. At the least there was a cache of rice and other grains they could prepare. They'd find real food once they returned to civilization.

"So there's really no plastic anymore?" Buffy asked, watching Spike stoke the fire to a healthy roar.

"Well, not exactly. They use it for some things that really can't be anything but plastic, but yeah, for the most part there's no more plastic. I mean, it's there, tonnes of recycled...whatever. Suffice to say, everything's back to how it should be. All natural. Metal, stone, glass and wood. You'd be surprised how clean everything is too."

"What's the world really like?"

"Star Trek, love." He smiled and she pouted.

"Don't tease me!"

"I'm not! I swear. Sort of. You'll just have to see it for yourself." She nodded, but he noticed she was chewing nervously on her bottom lip. He came over and lay himself down on the bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It won't be all that bad. I promise. The world's a lot simpler. People work because they want to and not because they have to. Everyone contributes. There's no hunger, not much war to speak of. Things are rather boring actually."

"What about demons? The apocalypses."

"Well, love, the big one's come and gone, see." Her brow furrowed, confusion setting in. Spike lay back and brought her to him, cuddling her close. "After I came back, I got in with Angel and his lot. Long story made short, he had the stones to take on the source of the evil on Earth. We won." Buffy lay back on the bed for a moment, trying to grasp the concept that she was truly free of her duty as Slayer.

"I don't know what to do with my life," she sighed. Spike smiled at that, laying his head next to hers.

"If it's any consolation, I don't have a bloody clue either." He nudged her nose with his, still smiling."Know what I'm gonna do?"

"What's that?"

"First, I'm going to take you home. I've got a loft in London. It's not particularly quiet, but it's got a nice garden on the balcony. It's quite big, quite posh. After you've had a chance to get your bearings, we'll start to look for somewhere new for us to live. Somewhere that's in your truest, most heartfelt dreams. Somewhere we can begin a again. Then you know what I'm going to do?"

Buffy giggled, appreciating his infectious optimism. "What are you going to do?"

He lay his hand on her hip and tugged her towards him. There was a glint of mischief in his eye that was irresistible.

"Get you all fat with babies."

She blushed from head to toe. "Okay."

"Well, you're bloody easy, aren't you?" With what she sure was a growl he moved over her, pinned her beneath his body and thoroughly kissed her.

"It's easy when it's you." She replayed the statement over again in her mind. Nothing with Spike had ever been easy. But suddenly it was. The epiphany left her feeling light, clean and free. She started with a small giggle that soon turned to riotous laughter. The vampire was utterly confused, but soon enough the pair were rolling around on the bed and getting tangled in the blankets.

When they stopped, both panting from the exertion with bright smiles illuminating their faces, their eyes locked. Delight gave way to passion with an ever-increasing joy at being together again. Spike and Buffy, always meant to be.



Epilogue

The old tree groaned as its fibers and bark separated itself to allow the mortals to pass through into the outside world. For the boy, it was the first time he'd smelled the air of the Otherworld or seen its trees. Under the full moon it didn't appear too different than the realm he'd just vacated. The energies were different however and once free of the old oak's protection he knelt down and pressed his hand to the earth. There were opposing forces coursing through this new world - good and evil fighting for dominance, but for the most part evenly balanced. It wasn't something he was used to, feeling the negativity in tangible form. It was something he knew of, surely, but not something he'd experienced.

He knew his situation was about to change. But it was unavoidable and furthermore, he was seeking it. He'd been taught all the knowledge of the Elders and consumed it as wine, his thirst never-ending. He was practiced and trained by his guardian and her sisters. And lastly he'd bested the finest warriors of the realm. He was the golden champion of what his guardian insisted was the actual Otherworld. This new place that he'd only heard tales of was drastically different and it terrified him. But he was also brave and had the confidence that he could complete his quest. With a leather satchel on his back and a long coat also of leather on his shoulders, he stuck out his chest and prepared to take the first step of his journey.

He turned back to his guardian and welcomed her encouraging smile. She stepped out of the tree and into his arms to bid him a final farewell, sensing that she may never lay eyes upon the boy she'd raised since he was only three months old. Her part in his life hadn't been solitary. He'd been raised by the entire court and the surrounding settlements. Everyone knew his name, where he'd come from and what his destiny was. He'd known since he could speak. And after so many years he couldn't avoid the inevitable. The time was now.

For all of his seventeen years, his Aunty Willow had been a stunning redhead with bright, wise eyes and a soft laugh that made him feel safe. Like all the ladies in his home, she dressed in layered robes adorned with knotwork brocades. But often his guardian wore a dagger, which she'd bequeathed to him before they'd left their land to travel past the Deeper Well and to this world. When he drew back from her embrace he gasped at what he saw. Gone was the fiery woman that had been like a mother to him and now before him was an elderly, frail woman with hair a stark white.

"Dear Goddess, Aunty Willow! What's happened to you?" he cried. She touched his cheek with her bony, wrinkled hand and smiled.

"Just showing my true age, William," was her reply. "Don't worry about me, I'm not going to die. Each of us must pass through the phases of life. The Goddess graced me with youth so long as I needed it, but now that you're leaving us, I can become my true self. I was an old soul before you were born, now I just look it. You have a long journey ahead of you and many battles to fight and you're ready, sweet child."

"I'm ready. I know I am. But I still fear this new world."

"All heroes have their moments of doubt, but the true courage is continuing to try despite all odds."

"And what of me? Will I age now too?"

"Yes, but in the normal course of life. Centuries have passed since you were last in the world. It has no doubt changed beyond my own recognition, but some things will never change. Good must always be ready to fight evil. The Immortal must be stopped; he's gone unchecked for too long. Now that your parents are reunited they will seek to destroy him for the loss of their child. If you don't find them before they confront him, you'll lose them without ever having the chance to know them - and feel their love for you."

"The seers told you this? That they'll die?"

"Yes. William you have to find your parents, and quickly."

"How? I don't even know where to start!"

"Follow your soul's cry; follow your senses. You've inherited your father's traits; his blood can call to yours if you seek deep enough inside yourself. William, have you already forgotten everything you've been taught? A simple tracking spell should give you a destination." She gave her head a bit of a shake. Already she was beginning to use the tones and speech patterns of the Elders. She was realized how far away she was from the redhead from Sunnydale she truly was. It was the way of things when one had spent too long on the other side where all ways were old ways.

"But shouldn't I have one of their possessions for it to work?"

"You're their son." Her smile was that of an old woman's, loving and indulgent. "A drop of your blood is all that is needed. Don't be frustrated with yourself. You've entered a strange new world, it'll take time to adjust. Once you've found your parents, everything will be clear. You're the spitting image of your father you know? You'll know when you've found him. It'll be like looking into a mirror. And your mother - I should warn you - there'll be a lot of tears. Like, an insane amount! And she'll want to cuddle you until you're about ready to heave, but let her, okay? She loved you with her whole soul and losing you was the worst trauma anyone could've ever experienced. You're her baby, William. You're dad's another story - he'll probably cry too, but then he'll curse, say bloody hell and then ask if you want to go for a drink or beat something up."

"He sounds a bit uncouth."

"He's a champion, like you. Just a little rough around the edges is all. He's got a good heart. A good heart. He's a man you'll be proud to call father."

"And he's a vampire."

"Yep! And kinda sexy, too."

"Aunty Willow! What would Aunty Róisín say?"

"Don't tell her, 'k?" With a sad smile Willow fastened his coat. The leather was brown instead of black, and in a different style as well as longer, but all in all she was reminded of Spike. "Tell Buffy that I'm sorry and that I was only doing my best and what we all thought was right, especially Giles. I hope she can forgive me. Promise?"

"I promise."

"Got your stake?"

"Two of them. And the dagger, and the pendant and the ax!" To demonstrate he showed her his back and the weapon strapped to it.

"Technically, it's a scythe."

William arched his eyebrow. "Looks like an ax. Feels like an ax. It's an ax."

"Whatever." She sighed and looked up at the sky. "The longest journey is the one that never gets started." The witch cupped William's face in her hands and brought his head down to bestow a kiss on his forehead. "Be watchful, be kind, be strong and most importantly, just be William."

"Yes, Aunty. Thank you. I love you."

"Love you too."

"Goodbye Aunty."

William did not look back as he strode forth into the forest. Now was the time for courage and to prove his worth as a warrior. He'd never had a moment of loneliness or ever felt unloved, and his Aunty Willow was the closest he'd know to a mother, but he'd never had a family of his own. And if he had anything to do with it, that was all about to change.

The End...for now