Summary: A year after saying good bye, Spike finds Buffy again—and discovers he's been given a gift he'd never thought was possible. (post-"Chosen," "Not Fade Away")
Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is always welcome, though I do ask that you be considerate of the fact that I am a person and not a computer screen and allow criticism to be constructive, not rude. Also, I do allow for archiving, but please, ask me for permission before you repost this anywhere.
Contact Info: email: addie_logan@yahoo.com website: http://www.dark-desire.org/blood updates list: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/addielogan/
Come into these arms again
And lay your body down
The rhythm of this trembling heart
Is beating like a drum
It beats for you, it bleeds for you
It knows not how it sounds
For it is the drum of drums
It is the song of songs
Once I had the rarest rose
That ever deemed to bloom
Cruel winter chilled the bud
And stole my flower too soon
Oh loneliness, Oh hopelessness
To search the ends of time
For there is in all the world
No greater love than mine
Let me be the only one
To keep you from the cold
Now the floor of heaven is laid
The stars are bright as gold
They shine for you, they shine for you
They burn for all to see
Come into these arms again
And set this spirit free
—"Love Song for a Vampire," Annie Lennox
Officially, she had retired. Unofficially, the night still sang to her, drawing her from the safety of her apartment and on to the darkened streets in search of those who would prey on the innocent. She'd long since given up any attempts to turn her back completely on her Calling, knowing it would never be long until she again yearned for the hunt.
Even with thousands now wearing the title of "Slayer," Buffy Summers was still the Chosen One.
The night had called to her even more loudly than usual that evening, her body, her blood, practically humming as she'd waited for the sun to go down. The sun had barely fallen below the horizon when she'd set out, her slender fingers wrapped tightly around a stake, the feel of the wood against her skin so comfortable, so familiar, that she knew it would always be a part of her. It was something she couldn't walk away from, something she couldn't forget. Just like the memory of him…
Hours after she'd begun that night, she continued to patrol the hot Los Angeles streets, searching for something she couldn't seem to put a name to. More calling to her than the hunt that night, more driving her than the need to put her own inner demons to rest by destroying those made of flesh and bone, of blood.
She knew she should go home. She had people waiting for her there, responsibilities she should be focusing on. But her restlessness had not abated. If anything, it had grown stronger.
Buffy stopped short, her head cocked slightly as she listened for something—she wasn't sure what, wasn't even sure if she'd really heard the noise that had stilled her. A tingle went up her spine, and her breath caught in her throat. She knew that tingle, had felt it so many times since that first night, in the alley when she'd seen him and known her life would never be the same. The tingle said vampire.
But not just any vampire.
Her vampire.
Buffy shook her head, wanting to scream at her own mind to stop playing tricks on her. It couldn't be him she felt. He was gone, nothing but dust at the bottom of a town that no longer existed. He'd sacrificed himself for her—after giving her a gift that she would never be able to thank him for.
This had to be another illusion, another fleeting fantasy. So many times she'd dreamt that he was with her again, giving her a chance to prove to him that her last words had not been merely ones meant to give a crumb to a dying man, but the truest she had ever spoken. It had taken that moment to make her realize how foolish she'd been to hide from what she felt, to bury her feelings inside and deny them on the basis of a meaningless definition of "right." It had taken losing him to show her that what was right was what was in her heart. But her words had come too late, too many years of her refusal to speak them conditioning him to believe they could never be the truth, that she could never feel even a fraction of what he felt for her.
He'd died without ever knowing how deeply she did love him, how much of her heart he truly had. Out of all her mistakes, it was her biggest regret, and she couldn't seem to let go, to convince herself she really never would have the chance to show him she'd meant her declaration of love. It cut her to the core, drove her to imagine he was near from time to time, that he was there with her and that she was going to get her second chance. But he was gone. There would be no time to make it up to him, and she had to push away this dream, to remind herself yet again that she'd lost him. Slowly, she closed her eyes, trying to dispel the phantom touch of his presence.
The tingles didn't go away, even as she told herself over and over that they couldn't be real. Instead, they grew stronger until every cell in her body was screaming, her blood pounding through her veins, pulling her towards…
She froze, a jolt running through her. She heard footsteps behind her, and she dared not turn around, afraid to look and have this glorious illusion shattered. The clomp of heavy boots, the rustle of leather, a familiar scent curling together with cigarette smoke. It was so real, so tangible she could almost taste it. And then she heard it, two words that made her heart stop and beat again all at the same time.
"Hello, cutie."
The shock of seeing her again had almost paralyzed him. He hadn't been able to believe it at first, even as his every sense screamed at him that yes, this was her. It had seemed unreal, a waking dream. She wasn't supposed to be here, not in L.A. She was supposed to be half a world away, living her new life in Rome. But there she was, patrolling the L.A. streets as if she did it every night.
At first, he had followed behind her cautiously, not sure of how to approach her—or even if he should. She was achingly beautiful, the same girl he'd dreamt about every night for a year, yet still different somehow. She was fuller, more womanly. Her scent was richer than he'd remembered, beckoning him to her even more strongly than it ever had before.
Soon, he hadn't been able to stand it any longer. To be so close to her and then to simply walk away… He'd never be strong enough for that, no matter what happened between them. He was hers, completely, and to try to deny that was something he couldn't do.
He'd known the moment she sensed him. Her body had gone rigid, still except for the steady rise and fall from the breaths she took and a slight tremble that made him want to shiver right along side her. His voice had caught in his throat for a beat before he found it again, and he spoke, echoing the words he had said to her in what felt like lifetimes ago. For them, perhaps it had been.
"Hello, cutie."
He heard her gasp and he waited patiently for her to turn around. Slowly, she did, shock and elation warring in her hazel eyes as she struggled to believe what she was seeing. Finally, she spoke. One word, questioning, filled with emotion, wrapped with both joy and heartache.
"Spike?"
"Yeah, luv. It's me."
She ran to him then, her fingers grazing his chest, testing for corporealness before she threw her arms around him, clinging to him with desperation. Spike wrapped her in his embrace, breathing her scent in deep.
"You were dead," she whispered, and Spike could tell from her voice as well as the salty scent of her tears that she was crying.
"I was, kitten. But I'm back now."
"I…I wished, and I prayed, and I dreamt every night, but I never thought…" Buffy looked up, her eyes meeting his before she broke down completely, sobbing against him. "Oh, Spike…"
Spike had never allowed himself to believe that his death would've affected her as deeply as he was seeing it had now, that she would've truly carried this much emotion inside of her for him. A lump formed in his throat as he thought back to her last words to him in the Hellmouth, and he knew the impossible was real. She'd meant them.
She'd loved him…
She loved him still…
"How, Spike?" Buffy asked, her hands still gripping him desperately. "How are you here? How…how did this happen?"
"It's a long story, pet. We might should find a better place for it than an alley, yeah?"
Buffy nodded. "My…my apartment is close by. We can go there." She swallowed, her eyes darting down for a moment. "I have some things I have to tell you, too."
So she had been living in Los Angeles… Spike wondered how this could be, how she could be here when only a little more than a week before he'd seen her in Rome, dancing with none other than the Immortal. And now that he thought about it, her hair looked different that it had that night, too. It was wavier, not quite as blonde. "All right. Lead the way."
She gripped his hand tightly as they walked, as if she were afraid he'd just fade away, exit her life again as quickly as he had the last time. They said nothing as they entered the building, silence following them up the elevator and down the hall to her apartment. She fished her keys from her pocket, opening the door wide and gesturing slightly with her free hand. "Come in."
Spike gave her a small smile as he passed the threshold, looking around at her new home with an approving eye. It was simple but tasteful, just the sort of place he could picture Buffy living.
"Buffy, hey, I was starting to wonder when…" Dawn came down the hallway, stopping short when she entered the living room and saw the black-clad man standing beside her sister. "Oh my god…Spike?"
Spike responded with a small wave. "Hey there, bit."
"Spike!" This time his name was said at a pitch he'd only heard Dawn reach as she bounded across the room and into his arms, squeezing him almost as tightly as her sister had in the alley. "What…what are you doing here? You…Buffy said you were dead!"
"Still am dead," Spike said with a crooked grin. "Vampire and all. I'm just…not quite so dusty as I once was."
"I just found him," Buffy said to her sister. "When…when I was patrolling. We haven't talked yet, I don't know…"
"It was the amulet," Spike said. "Don't know how exactly, but I got myself stuck in it. Someone dug it up, sent it to Angel at Wolfram and Hart. I spent some time as a ghost—bit of irony I thought, after dying stopping the big ghosty evil that was the First—and then I got myself all recorporealized."
"You…you said the amulet got sent to Angel?" Buffy asked, her hand reaching out to take his, even a momentary loss of contact too much for her after so many nights without him. "Have…have you been in L.A. this whole time?"
Spike nodded. "Yeah. I couldn't leave at first, something about the amulet was keeping me here. And then, well, guess I got tied up by a few things." He frowned. "What about you? Thought you were livin' the good life off in Rome."
Buffy shook her head. "No. I've been here. I wanted to, well, come back home, I suppose. I just…I wanted people to think I was in Rome. Certain people anyway. There were…reasons. Well, one reason in particular."
Suddenly, a wail filled the apartment, and Spike's eyes widened. "Is that a…"
"I'll get him," Dawn offered, dashing from the room towards the sound of the cries. Spike gaped in shock when she came back a few moments later, carrying an infant wrapped in a light blue blanket.
"Hand him to me," Buffy said, holding her arms out. Dawn gave her the baby and Buffy held him tightly, patting his back as she bounced him softly against her hip. "Shh…it's all right, sweetie. Mommy's got you now."
Spike couldn't stop staring, his mouth open, his brain seeming to stop until Dawn spoke again.
"I'll just, um, leave you guys alone," Dawn said, knowing her sister would need some time to discuss things with Spike without her present. They could play their own game of catch-up later. "I've got…um…homework." She walked to the beginning of the hallway before stopping and turning back around. "I'm glad you're back, Spike. I…I really missed you."
"Missed you, too, nibblet," Spike replied, swallowing.
Dawn gave him a small nod before continuing down the hall, leaving him alone with Buffy and the baby.
Buffy's baby, Spike realized. His Buffy had a baby… It hadn't been that long, really, since he'd seen her last, and already she'd moved on enough to have a child with another man.
Only when he looked around, he saw nothing that indicated a man lived there with them. Unless that was merely his own wishful thinking playing tricks on him.
"I have to feed him," Buffy said, pulling Spike back to reality. "Do you mind if I, um…"
Spike frowned for a moment before he realized what she was asking. "No, go right ahead. Do you want me to leave while you…?"
"No, that's okay." She gave him a wry grin. "It's not like you haven't seen them before."
Spike chuckled. "No, guess it isn't."
Buffy carried the baby into the living room and sat with him on the couch, Spike following her and sat across from them.
He watched as Buffy lifted one side of her shirt, pulling open a flap on her bra and guiding the infant's head to her nipple. He latched on hungrily, his tiny hand gripping on to one of Buffy's as he fed from her. It was a beautiful scene, making his throat catch. Never before had he thought Buffy had looked so radiant. "What's his name?" he asked finally after a long silence.
Buffy looked up, her eyes locking with Spike's. "William. I named him after his father."
It was something so unexpected that Spike couldn't believe what she seemed to be telling him. But it was there in her eyes, pleading with him to know it was the truth. "But pet, I can't… How?"
"I…I don't know," Buffy answered truthfully. "But he has to be yours. There…there hasn't been anyone else in so long." She looked down again, smiling softly at the child. "Besides, he has your eyes." She took a deep breath, stroking with her thumb the tiny hand that was gripping her finger. "I..I thought maybe, maybe the Powers were letting me have a little bit of you even though they'd taken you away. He…he'd look at me, and for a moment, it was like you were still here."
Her heartfelt confession brought tears to his own eyes, though they didn't fall. He wished that he hadn't been so afraid, that he'd let himself seek her out despite his fears of the sort of reception he'd receive. All along she'd been here, in Los Angeles…with his child.
The baby stopped feeding, and Buffy covered herself again before picking up a white cloth from the coffee table and slinging it over her shoulder. She propped the baby on to it, patting his back until he let out a hearty burp. Buffy brought him down then, kissing his forehead. "There's mama's little boy," she cooed, smiling warmly at her baby.
"Can…can I hold him?" Spike asked, his eyes resting firmly on the child.
"Of course," Buffy said. "Just…mind his head." She reached across the couch, handing her son carefully to Spike. "There you go, Will. There's your daddy."
Her words went straight to Spike's unbeating heart, and a wide grin broke over his face as he held his son, the nearly surreal moment filling him with unparalleled joy. He kept expecting to wake up, to find himself back in that alley he'd barely managed to fight his way out of only a few days before. The baby's eyes opened, meeting a pair so much like his own, and Spike gasped. "He's beautiful, Buffy. God, he's just…" Spike looked back at her. "We really made him?"
"Yes, Spike. We did."
There weren't words to describe what he felt. A baby… His baby. After all the pain and heartache he and Buffy had brought to each other, to have this now between them was something so amazing he could hardly fathom it. Finally, their love had been allowed to create something beautiful.
"The Slayer in Italy isn't me," Buffy said, catching Spike's attention again. "Well, okay, I guess that's kinda obvious, since I'm like sitting right here and all, but I've never lived in Italy. I've never even been to Italy. She's…she's a decoy."
Spike frowned. "Decoy?"
"Yeah. When I found out I was pregnant, I was worried—about someone trying to hurt the baby, y'know? And with Angel being the new head of Evil, Inc., well, I didn't want him to know. If…if he was going all Angelus again, well…"
"Our child would sound bloody good on the menu," Spike finished for her.
"Exactly."
"That's quite a good decoy you've got out there," Spike said. He cleared his throat. "I was in Rome not too long ago. Saw her dancin'—with the Immortal."
"You were in Rome?" Buffy asked, frowning. "Why? Were you looking for me?"
"No. Well, sort of. I did try some, went to your apartment. Or at least what I thought was your apartment. But Peaches was there, too, and we had this demon head to pick up, so it didn't really go well. Not that I didn't want to see you, there were just…things."
"Oh." Buffy bit her lip, thinking for a moment. "I wasn't ever with the Immortal or anything. Sandra—that's the decoy Slayer—she might be, I don't know. I…I had met him a few weeks before—long story—and he agreed to help with the whole thing. He said if I was planning on screwing with Angelus, then I could most definitely count him in."
Spike chuckled a little at that. "Sounds like the old bastard. And Andrew?"
"Also in on the plan. That actually is his apartment."
"So all this time we've both been here in L.A., living right under each other's noses," Spike said after a moment, letting it all sink in.
"Looks like."
"Huh." Silence filled the room for a long while until Spike made a face, pulling back from the baby. "He smells."
Buffy giggled. "He needs a change. Hand him back."
Spike didn't hesitate, the poopy diaper smell more than his heightened senses could handle. "The changing table's in my room," Buffy said. "Come on, it's down the hall."
Spike followed her, deciding to use the vampire trait of not needing to breathe to his advantage for once. Buffy brought William to the table, changing him with ease before hoisting him back up, covering his chubby cheeks with kisses.
"How much have I missed?"
Buffy turned towards Spike again at his question, frowning. "Huh?"
"How old is he?"
"Three months."
"I don't want to miss any more," Spike said, determination in his voice. "Other than, you know, anything that involves being out in the sun…"
"I won't make you," Buffy said. "He's…he's your son, too." She gave Spike a small smile. "And he won't remember the first three months anyway, so don't worry about it."
"Still, I should've…I should've been here. When…when he was growing inside of you…when he was born. I should've been here."
Buffy walked over to him and placed her hand against his cheek. "You didn't know. You would've been here if you'd known." She cleared her throat. "Besides, the whole birth thing was kinda icky, and I tended to be really bitchy when I was pregnant. I might've staked you."
Spike gave her a crooked grin. "Maybe it was better for me this way then."
She didn't believe him, but it was a comforting lie.
William gave a tiny yawn, his blue eyes closing, and Buffy walked with him over to a rocking chair near the window. She sang softly as she rocked the infant to sleep, and Spike stood transfixed, unable to keep his eyes off the scene. They were so beautiful, his family.
His family… Were they? Would Buffy welcome him back fully, as her lover? The sharing of a child didn't guarantee that, even if it did bind them in a way he hadn't been able to imagine before. She hadn't given him any indication that she still thought of him that way, hadn't told him she loved him or even given him a kiss. So where did things lie between them?
Once she was sure William was asleep, Buffy brought the baby to his crib, placing him inside. She leaned in and kissed him tenderly before locking the side of the crib in place. Her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath before she turned to Spike, unsure of what to say.
It had been a whirlwind of a night, and she still couldn't quite believe any of it was real. She kept expecting Spike to fade away, to disappear from her life again. It was too much to believe that he'd really been given back to her. She told him the truth when she'd told him she'd wished and prayed for his return. Every breath she'd taken had been a plea to the Powers to return to her what had been so cruelly snatched away before she'd even gotten the chance to truly love him…
Suddenly, she couldn't hold back anymore, the questions and doubts she had no longer mattering. He was here, and that was all that counted. She ran into his arms, kissing him with a year of denied passion. Spike moaned at her touch, surprise stalling him for only a moment before he was wrapping her in his arms, giving back as good as he got.
Soon, she was leading him towards the bed, her tiny hands were pushing the heavy leather of his duster off his shoulders. Spike broke away from her lips, gasping. "Kitten…should we be…are you sure…"
"It's been too long, Spike," Buffy replied. "I need you. Please… I need you…" She pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. "I love you."
"Oh god, Buffy. I love you, too, pet. So bloody much."
"Show me," Buffy told him, her lips curving into a tempting smile.
Spike stepped back and shut the door, remembering for a moment that Dawn was still in the apartment before his focus went completely back to Buffy. He lifted her up, shivering at the way she clung to him as he carried her to the bed.
The one that after tonight, he hoped could be their bed…
Buffy was illuminated only by the soft glow from a lamp, making her appear almost ethereal. So many lonely nights he'd dreamt of this, then woken up cold with the belief it would never happen gripping his heart. But here she was, laid out and waiting for him.
Spike stopped to sit at the edge of the bed and remove his boots before he joined her, covering her body with his own. Her hot lips and hands seemed to be everywhere at once, making him shiver as he moaned with pleasure. They tore at each other's clothes, removing them in record time in a desperate need to feel nothing between them, only skin to skin.
"Oh god, Spike," Buffy whispered beneath him, her fingers moving to his hair, tangling themselves in the soft platinum curls. "I missed this so much…missed you."
"Missed you, too, kitten," Spike replied, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. "Never want to leave you again."
"You won't…I know you won't," Buffy breathed against him. "You're the one who doesn't leave."
"I am, pet. Never…never leaving again. You, me, the baby, Nibblet…we're gonna be a family."
"Yes…yes…oh, Spike…I've wanted this for so long…wanted you."
At that moment, Spike didn't care anymore if it was reality or a dream. It was the most wonderful moment he'd ever experienced, and nothing could change that. "I want to make love to you, Buffy," he whispered against her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "Will you let me do that?"
"More than let you…" Buffy gently tugged on his head until he was looking at her face again, and gave him a teasing smile. "I'll beg you if I have to."
"Don't have to beg, pet. Nothing in the world I could want more."
Buffy craned her neck up and captured his lips again, moaning into his mouth at the glorious taste of him, too long denied to her. She curled her leg around his, needing him closer, knowing he could never be close enough. "Spike…need you inside," Buffy panted before kissing him again, not wanting to lose even a moment of contact with him.
He pulled back as little as he could and still speak, his mouth almost touching hers. "Need…need to get your ready…"
"I am… I've been ready…been waiting."
Spike kissed her again as he slipped his hand between their bodies, groaning into her as he felt how slick she was. She was ready just like she'd told him she was, her wetness coating his fingers, her body open and willing to let him inside.
She was welcoming him home.
Spike pulled back again, taking hold of one of her hands and entwining his fingers with hers, squeezing tight. His eyes met hers as he reached between their bodies with his other hand to grasp his cock, guiding himself to her entrance. He took a deep breath, filling his otherwise useless lungs the sweetness of her arousal, the glorious scent beckoning him forward.
He moved inside of her with a powerful thrust, their cries rising above their bodies, mingling in the air. She was even hotter than he remembered, the fire that burned inside her almost scorching him, bringing warmth to his body, left cold for so long.
Time stilled around them, and Spike could almost forget he'd been denied this, that he had been forced to lay without her for so many empty nights. This was where he belonged, where his heart had always been. "I love you, Buffy," he said again as he moved, sliding in an out with a steady rhythm.
"Spike, Spike…oh god, I love you, too. Loved…loved you for so long. Should've…should've said it when you could've believed me," Buffy replied, her words heavy with the emotions they held.
"I believe you, kitten," Spike said, gasping as he pushed inside her again. "I believe you…"
"I kept…I kept thinking about…" A moan as he thrust just right… "About in the cavern when you said… I thought you died and never knew… I should've…"
Spike stopped her with a kiss. "No, pet. Don't…don't think about that now. Just feel, baby. Feel what I'm doing to you…feel how I love you."
"I do. Oh, Spike, I do. I feel it. I feel everything…"
They fell silent again, their lips crashing together. Buffy wrapped her legs around her lover's waist, pulling him closer, pushing him further until he was almost impossibly deep. Buffy's hands tightened around his shoulders, her nails digging into his pale skin as if she needed to keep him there, need to hold on to him lest fate be cruel to her again and he slip away.
He was filling her, surrounding her, but it wasn't enough. She needed everything, needed to give to him to what she never would before. She knew he wouldn't leave her willingly. She'd told him he was the one who stayed, and she knew it was the truth, but there was still that twinge of fear that it could all be taken away from her again. She'd lost him once, had him snatched from her. She needed certainty. She needed solid proof. She needed…
"Make me yours, Spike."
Spike's rhythm faltered at her words and he pulled back, his eyes wide as he searched his face for confirmation he'd really heard what he thought he'd heard. "Buffy?"
"I…I know what I'm asking. Please, Spike. I want to be yours. Really yours."
Spike groaned, his fangs pushing at his gums, begging for release. But Buffy couldn't possibly know what she saying, what she was taunting his demon with. "Pet, don't…"
Buffy tilted her head to the side and pushed back her hair, exposing the golden skin of her neck to him. "I'm telling you to claim me, Spike."
It was the most tempting offer he'd ever gotten. His demon screamed inside of him, struggling to push to the surface and finally claim the woman he'd been so long denied the ability to make his mate. "It…it's forever. I…"
"We're forever. I'm not letting go again. We have each other. We have our son. Please, Spike, let me really be yours."
He could never deny that request. Even if Buffy didn't know what she was really asking, he wasn't strong enough to say no, to stop now and give himself time to explain it all to her with the chance she would revoke her request. Instead, he sped up his thrusts, plunging into her harder and harder until she was shaking in orgasm, biting her lip to fight the scream that was sounding in her mind, escaping from her in strangled moans and whimpers.
His fangs dropped, his facial bones rearranging as his eyes changed from blue to feral gold. Buffy's head fell back and he went in, his fangs slicing into her throat.
Buffy's hand came up to grasp the back of his head, holding him in place as he took deep pulls of her blood, the taste of her the most satisfying elixir he'd ever known. She continued to spasm around his cock, his bite prolonging her orgasm, and Spike pulled back, growling one word against her neck.
"Mine."
"Yours!" Buffy called out as he licked the wound closed, feeling a deeper sense of completion than she'd ever known before.
"Got…got to complete it, Buffy," Spike panted, his control slipping as her blood slid down his throat, infusing him with her power. "Do you know what…"
Buffy stopped his question when she raised her head, sinking her own teeth into his neck, biting hard and tearing his skin. She pulled his blood into her mouth without hesitation before moving back again. "Mine."
"Oh yes, Buffy, yours. Always, always…yours!" He came with his last cry, his hips bucking, filling her as she lapped at the mark she'd placed on his neck, bringing them closed.
Spike used what little strength he had to roll them over, clutching Buffy to his chest. His mind was reeling, the night seeming both unreal and more real than anything he'd known before. Hours ago, he'd had nothing and now, Buffy had given him everything he could want…her body, her love—a child. And now she was his mate.
Buffy was his forever.
"I love you," Buffy murmured against his chest. "Love you, my mate."
"And I love you, my mate," Spike replied, his arms tightening around her as they fell asleep together, still entwined.
The sun had already risen when Spike awoke, though the curtains were pulled tight, keeping the harmful rays out. Buffy slept across from him, her hand curled up beside her face, her mouth slightly open. At some point during the night, she'd gotten the baby, bringing him into the bed so he lay between them.
Their child was so tiny, so perfect, and Spike reached out to him, smiling as William's small hand curled around his finger. Spike still didn't understand how this happened, how he ever could've been allowed to take part in creating something as wonderful as this.
A soft breeze seemed to wash over him, a voice whispering along with it.
"A vampire with a soul…a Champion…gifted with a new life…"
Spike closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips against his son's soft skin and breathing in his fresh, pure scent.
He was a gift, this new life he'd been given.
That's it. Pretty short for me, I know, but I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback would be lovely.
Also, if anyone would be willing to make a banner for this fic that I could use on my site, I would be very, very grateful.