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Part seventeen...

Who Wants To Live Forever?



~~~~~~~~~~
"There's no time for us
There's no place for us
What is this thing that builds our dreams
Yet slips away from us..."
~~~~~~~~~~



The moon hung lower in the sky, and he could feel
a light breeze that brought the scent of citrus from
the orchard.

Although he wasn't big on self inflicted pain, he reached
into the inner pocket of his coat and brought out the
photograph that Buffy had given him.

Tracing her delicate features with one fingertip, he could
almost feel her standing beside him. If he concentrated
hard enough, he could hear her laughter and even
feel the warmth of her skin.

Spike sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whis-
pered. "I'm so sorry. I never should have gone anywhere
near you. We just weren't meant to be for each other."

If he had just left town that night, the night he met her,
she wouldn't be in pain now. This was his fault. He
deserved the punishment and the pain...but she didn't.

Looking ahead, all he could see was an empty void
of years without her. Used to be, he'd considered immor-
tality to be a wonderful thing. Now, all it was to him was
living fucking forever without the girl he loved.

How was he going to manage it? And what if she found
someone else? As much as he would try to be happy
for her, he knew damn well he wouldn't be. He'd be furious
and savagely jealous. Even the thought of another man
with her was like a dull knife digging into his gut.


~~~~~~~~~~
"Who wants to live forever?"
~~~~~~~~~~


"Spike?"

Drusilla's voice floated out onto the balcony.

"Coming, luv." He shoved the picture back into
his pocket and stepped through the terrace doors.

She was sitting up in bed, her hair mussed and
her eyes sleepy.

"Feeling better?" he asked, forcing a smile as he
sat down beside her.

"Somewhat," she replied. "Did you see her out there?"

Lowering his eyes, he asked, "See who, princess?"

Dru shook her head slowly, her eyes drifting shut. "I
can see her. Her face is filled with tears. She cries and
cries, and begs for things she can never have."

"Who are you talking about?" he asked again, his voice
a little shaky.

"She's not being careful, you know." Dru smiled and snapped
her teeth. "Foolish babies take foolish chances." Her
eyes opened and she looked into his. "Not to worry, precious,"
she said sweetly. "It won't hurt much longer."

Spike tried to force an explanation out of her, but she
just reclined back into her pillows and refused to say another
word.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"There's no place for us
It's all decided for us
This world has only one sweet moment
Set aside for us..."

Who wants to live forever?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Down in the library, he poured brandy into a
cut crystal glass with shaking hands. Dru's cryptic
words kept echoing in his ears.

"Her face is filled with tears. She cries and cries,
and begs for things she can never have..."

She had to be referring to Buffy. Which meant she
knew about Buffy. How long she had known was
anyone's guess.

It made his heart ache to have his fears about the
slayer confirmed. And they had definitely been con-
firmed. Dru was a little off the beam, but her visions
were always spot on. If she said that Buffy was
crying and begging to have him back...that's exactly
what was happening.

But as much as that image bothered him, her next
words were the really frightening ones.

"She's not being careful, you know. Foolish babies
take foolish chances."

~~~~~~~~~~
"Who dares to love forever?
~~~~~~~~~~



There was only one kind of foolish chance that Buffy
could be taking. If Dru was right, and she always was,
then Buffy was behaving recklessly when she went out
at night to do her job. Taking risks she had no business
taking. Opening herself up to being hurt, or even....

He threw the alcohol down his throat, relishing the burn-
ing path it took through his system. Refilling his glass, he
lowered himself into the huge wing chair by the fireplace.

"Not to worry precious. It won't hurt much longer."

It won't hurt WHO much longer? And why? Was this
Dru's way of telling him that Buffy was going to get over
him, and would no longer be hurt by his leaving?

Or, was she saying that soon Buffy would be completely
out of pain, any kind of pain, because she would be....


~~~~~~~~~~
"When love must die..."
~~~~~~~~~~


The crystal in his hand shattered under his squeezing
fingers and sliced into his palm. The brandy mingled
with his blood, and dripped steadily onto the floor be-
tween his feet.

He wanted to go back. More than he'd ever wanted
anything in his life, he wanted to be back in Sunnydale
with Buffy. Taking her to carnivals, making her eat dinner,
teaching her to drive, making love to her.

If there was one thing that he knew without a bit
of doubt, it was that he could not go through eternity
and never make love to Buffy again. She was his mate...
his wife, and there wasn't a chance in hell that he was
going to let some other man lay claim to her.

What they'd had together was wonderful, but it wasn't
enough. He had to have more. He WOULD have more.


~~~~~~~~~~
"But touch my tears with your lips
Touch my world with your fingertips.."
~~~~~~~~~~



"You look pensive tonight."

Spike was standing at the bathroom sink, wrapping
his hand in cotton gauze until the cuts closed over.

Lysander edged a little further into the room, looking
over Spike's shoulder. "I'm afraid to ask what she
threw at you this time."

Spike shook his head. "It wasn't Dru. I broke a glass
downstairs."

He knew he sounded curt, but he didn't feel like going
into the whys and wherefors with his host. For all his
enormous power with dark magic, Lysander fancied him-
self some sort of frustrated therapist and would quiz him
endlessly on the hidden meaning behind his accident.

But, he was grateful to the warlock. He had opened his
home to them, and was diligently working to perfect a
cure for Drusilla. He was currently keeping her stable by
giving her an elixer he concocted from certain plants he'd
been cultivating in a large greenhouse.

Lysander had a bit of "mad scientist" in him. He had a
well stocked lab in what was once the dungeon of his
castle, and he spent hours in it, mixing and measuring,
adding an ingredient here, subtracting it there, replacing
it with something else.

It was helping Dru, but it wasn't curing her.

Now, he looking at Spike speculatively. "I don't wish to
seem as though I'm complaining," he said. "But I get
the feeling that you'd rather be somewhere else these
days."

Spike just shrugged, fiddling with the gauze. "I'm fine,"
he insisted. "If I wanted to be somewhere else, then I
would be."

"I'm not so sure," Lysander replied, then abruptly changed
the subject. "Drusilla said something very interesting
earlier."

"Yeah? Do tell," Spike muttered.

"She said you no longer care for her."

Spike denied it immediately. "That's not true. Don't
believe half of what you hear her say. In fact, don't
believe ANY of it."

Lysander narrowed his eyes. "Then YOU tell me,"
he said. "What do you feel for her?"

"I...love her, okay?" Spike said impatiently. "I do."

"And yet you've relinquished your claim on her."

Spike's eyes darted away. "How did you know that?"

The warlock smiled. "You have the scent of another woman
on you. It's quite obvious that you're unhappy being here,
and you barely speak to Drusilla, let alone touch her."

He stepped closer and dropped his voice as he touched
the outside of Spike's coat, right at the place where Buffy's
picture was pocketed. "You carry her image here. And
here," he added, moving his hand over Spike's heart. "How
long can you go on like this, young one?"


~~~~~~~~~~
"And we can have forever"
And we can love forever.."
Forever is our today.."
~~~~~~~~~~



Spike pulled away. "Mind your own business, warlock,"
he warned. "And do what you're being paid for."

Lysander seemed about to say more on the subject,
but the look on Spike's face changed his mind.

"Yes. As to that," he said, "tell me this...do you know who
sired Drusilla?"

Spike frowned. "Yeah, why?"

Ignoring the question, Lysander said, "Tell me."

"Some poncy git in London. Used to get his rocks off by
pretending to be a priest. Kept going after the novices, grab-
bing them in the confessionals."

"Tsk...is nothing sacred to you vampires?" Lysander
asked, shaking his head.

"Turned fourteen of them before he got hold of Dru." Spike
leaned back against the counter, arms folded across his
chest. "So, why do you ask?"

"Does he still live?" Lysander asked. "In YOUR sense of
the word, I mean."

"I think so," Spike replied. "Why?" he asked again.

The warlock shrugged his shoulders. "He is the answer,
my friend. The key to your cage."

Spike felt a jolt of energy race up and down his spine. "The
key to....what do you mean?"

Lysander's face never changed expression. "Find
him...bring him...and you can fly."



~~~~~~~~~~
"Who wants forever, anyway?"
~~~~~~~~~~







TBC.....

(I'd love your opinions)





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