[Reviews - 0]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2004 times

- Text Size +




--


Summer 2006

“Demons, vampires, end of the world--none of that freaks me out. But this...”

Buffy laughed humourlessly as she tucked her hair behind her ears. Spike raised an eyebrow at her from his position on his motorcycle. Buffy turned and glanced at the charming yet affordable restaurant.

“Pretend to breathe deeply. Maybe that’ll help.”

Spike pulled Buffy toward him and kissed her half on the cheek, half on the mouth.

“Good luck, ducks,” he said and sped off into the warm night under the waning moon.

He was already at the table.

“Hi Dad.”

The amount of awkward pauses that gathered between the drinks and the dessert was enough to make Buffy want to pull her hair out and at one point she even excused herself to go to the bathroom. She’d spent five minutes just wandering around since her bladder was technically out of commission and she had no reflection on which to check her make-up.

When she came out again, Buffy was determined to prevent anymore silences. Unfortunately this meant babbling.

“So...my friends, Willow and Tara, they decided to settle in England for now because they’re doing this...workshop for Wiccans. And, and, oh! A few weeks ago my friend Xander married his girlfriend Anya in the middle of the night after she gave birth to son. They got married right in the hospital. They’re doing all right. And...Dawn’s at University. She’s majoring in languages and knows four or five almost fluently. She’s really got a knack for it.”

Hank Summers nodded his head to show he was listening. He had never been as close with his youngest daughter.

“That’s...good,” he finally said. “How are you doing?”

“Really well. Well, there are some issues with my job but when aren’t there?”

Hank smiled lukewarmly and the waitress dropped off the check.

Suddenly Spike swept in and made a beeline for his mate.

“Move it, luv. Trouble’s abounding.”

Buffy stood up.

“Sorry Dad. Thanks for dinner.”

Catching the look Spike was getting from her father Buffy concealed a smile and added:

“Oh, this is Spike. He’s my psycho ex-murderer boyfriend and I love him very much.”

“Cheers,” Spike said offhandedly and pulled Buffy’s arm.

Hank watched incredulously from the restaurant’s front window as his eldest daughter rode away laughing on the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle.

--

Autumn 2006

Buffy sat in the passenger seat of the black Pathfinder, recalling the confrontation a few nights ago. She and Spike had split from Wolfram & Hart without a word.

Their new apartment was in a quiet building with windows that didn't get direct sunlight; there was a sewer entrance for daytime travel; water, electricity, heating—all the basics; there was even a Korean market on the corner that was open all night. It wasn’t very posh but it quickly became home.

Angel had pulled strings to get Faith out of prison. Even though she didn’t work for the evil law firm Buffy volunteered to be the retrieval team.

Buffy glanced down at her buzzing and ringing cell phone and --Spike-- flashed across the screen. She smiled and listened as he told her that Doyle had had another vision and that he was going out.

--

Later Autumn 2006

“If you want to save the world, we've got the resources to help you do it,” Wesley told the two vampires.

Spike lounged in a comfy chair with a beer in his hand while Buffy leaned against the kitchen doorjamb with her arms crossed and her eyes suspicious.

“No offence, Mr. Vader, but we've got no itch to join the evil empire,” said Buffy.

“It's different. You know it. We've changed things,” Gunn said from Wesley’s side.

“Look...” Spike said with a sigh. “I told Angel, and I'll tell you. A place like that doesn't change...not from the inside. Not from the out. You sign on there, it changes you. Puts things in your head. Spins your compass needle around ‘til you can't cross the street without tripping the proverbial old lady and stepping on her glasses. And it's not like I wasn't there, gents, like I wasn't watching you. The Slayer and I’ve basically been haunting the damn place all summer. Remember?”

He took a swig of beer and Buffy tried to keep from smiling at the overuse of metaphor her mate had crammed into one sentence.

“Things aren't that cut-and-dried, Spike. We're making a difference. We're just...playing by a new set of rules,” Gunn continued.

“So what? You want us to...obtain suitcases, put on suits, come play with you?” Buffy said sardonically.

“Something like that,” Wesley said.

“I can't believe Angel would sign off on that. Unless... he doesn't know you're here, does he?”

Spike scoffed and Buffy smirked.

“Hedging our bets, are we, boys?”

“That's not how it is,” Gunn insisted again.

Spike crossed his arms and said:

“And the compass needle keeps spinning. And the world gets murkier and murkier.”

As Wesley was walking down the hallway after being kicked out of the vampires’ apartment, he suddenly realized the rationale behind the Powers That Be allowing for not one, not two, but three souled vampires. The Shanshu Prophesy was never supposed to come to pass.

Wesley’s stride faltered for a minute as his epiphany sank in. He wondered if he should tell Angel; tell him that the reward he’d worked for for so long was a deceiving motivational tool for the champion of the Powers That Be.

“Wes, you coming?”

Wesley caught up with Gunn.

No. No he wouldn’t tell Angel. Or the others. Why take away the donkey’s carrot when they all were so so close to the vegetable patch?

--

Spring 2006

Although Doyle proved to be an elaborate counterfeit, Buffy was glad that they were allowed to stay in their apartment.

She tried to distract herself with irrelevant thoughts but she kept coming back to the fact that it was the night before the apocalyptic battle...again. Why? Why? Why? Would her entire existence be nothing but dodging the end of the world over and over?

Buffy lay on the bed staring forlornly at the ceiling. Spike kicked off his boots and climbed next to her.

She looked at him and he pulled her close, her scent filling his nostrils. She looked up and watched with hooded lids as his body changed to demon mode.

He emitted a soft, sex-drenched growl and nuzzled her neck. She tilted her head to allow them both better access. When Spike bit her, her legs turned to jelly and electric shocks vibrated down her spine to between her legs. She let her vampire visage melt onto her features, twisted her hand into his hair, and pierced her lover’s neck with her teeth.

Each let the ecstasy of their mate’s blood run down to warm their hearts.

Spike’s arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight as he retracted his fangs from her throat. He lovingly licked the wound closed and shuddered as he felt Buffy do the same.

The day was spent slowly amidst sex and caresses and sleep but it still slid away too fast.

Buffy lay curled into her mate, naked on the bed. Spike held her close, deftly stroking her hair.

Her eyes, glassy with sleep, glanced toward the window.

“Sun’s setting,” she said quietly.

They dressed without a word and before opening the door to the most-likely-doomed outside world, Spike gave Buffy a smile.

A smile that would have made Elvis jealous. A smile that said I love you and I want to rip your clothes off. A smile that said, We’re going to live happily ever after. He believed it. She believed it.

She smiled back.

They were going to make it.





You must login (register) to review.