[Reviews - 99]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 1616 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
Many thanks to Cordy kitten and Ariadne for thier kind reviews. They make my day.
This is the last of the Buffy/ other nad Spike/ other. we're spuffy all the way now. Its taken me two days to post this because I used the word C.U.R.L bad me.
hope you enjoy. please take a minute to review. they are the only reward my muse asks for.
Buffy climbed down off of the Elephant’s back and gave his trunk a hug. That same trunk hugged back then started patting her down, searching for mints.

Buffy laughed as she found a packet and, unwrapping them, handed them over to the pachyderm as he headed off in the direction of a group of children playing in a small swimming pool.
The air was soon full of squeals of laughter as the elephant sucked up trunkfuls of water and squirted the swimmers. He looked most put out when the children started splashing him back. Laughter dominated the noises in the air around her, laughter and birdsong and the sound of falling water.

Buffy took a look around. She was outside the hospital. She knew she’d been up regularly, but her ‘downstairs’ memories had not been as complete in the last year.

She knew she had been working with a few kids that had been murdered in shootouts and a couple that had been killed in car crashes, just allowing them to come to terms with what was happening, but that was all. It was as though her mind had protected itself from the longing for Spike, the loneliness she would have felt without him. Instead she had lived in the real world, with her living friends, and worked in the real world with the kids that had needed her there.

As she entered the hospital she could hear music coming from one of the side rooms. She felt drawn to it and saw Spike playing the guitar whilst a couple of her charges joined in. Her heart leapt at the sight of him. He hadn’t changed. He looked wonderful.

Spike felt eyes on him and looked up at the glass doorway. There stood Buffy. The sun shining through her hair, lighting it up like a halo.

He nearly dropped the guitar in his hurry to put it down and sprinted to the door: he snatched it open and grabbed her round the waist and swung her round and round. He nuzzled his face into her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, before nibbling at said ear and kissing down her neck.

‘Fancy a coffee, pet?’ He grinned at her. His heart was pounding in his chest so loudly it was astonishing that no-one else heard it. She looked amazing, beautiful, wonderful. His Angel was back with him and he was truly in heaven again.

Buffy just nodded, delighted to be with him again. Her heart felt like it was filling her completely. She drank in his face, his eyes, his body like a starving woman at a feast. Her William, he looked amazing, and Buffy felt tears well up in her eyes. Spike noticed Buffy’s eyes fill with tears and his heart fell.

‘You OK pet? Buffy, you OK?’

Buffy still didn’t answer.

William took a step back and put his hand out to touch her. Buffy leant into the palm and stroked it along her cheek. The tears then spilled out completely and she stepped forward into his arms, burying her head in his chest and let the emotion fall from her. The dam broke and she cried out loud.

‘Pet what’s the matter?’ His voice held all the worry from his heart. Had he done something to upset her? Was she angry about their time apart?
‘I’ve missed you so much, and I can’t believe its already been a year, I wasn’t sure Giles would let us see each other and I’ve missed you…’

‘You already said that bit pet, and I’ve missed you too, but what are the tears for?’

‘I’ve missed you, you jerk!’

Spike started to laugh. Only Buffy could blubber her way through that many sentences and still insult him at the end of it. How he loved this woman in front of him. He revelled in the feeling of her in his arms again, just holding her was a miracle.

‘Coffee?’ He repeated and Buffy nodded, took his hand and led the way to the café in the hospital.

Coffee was wonderful. Not so wonderful was the look on Spike’s face when Buffy told him about Doyle.

‘Is he good to you?’

‘Very.’

‘And are you happy?’

‘As I can be.’

‘Good.’

The conversation then turned to other less painful topics, William and Buffy happy just to be with one another again.

‘How’s Dawn?’

‘Sleeping at last, she’s getting over the shock of losing her parents. She’s turning into a real little pickle. Into everything, and up to mischief, which is totally normal behaviour for an eight year old.’


They continued to talk for hours. Drinking coffee and catching up on the last year.

‘Congratulations on the Oscar, I was really proud of you when I saw you on the red carpet.’

‘Thanks pet, did you like the film?’

‘Loved it, thought you sounded a bit like Giles when you were making the long speeches, and I know I shouldn’t but it made me giggle at the thought of you taking him off like that.’

William grinned at her. It was wonderful just to be with her again.

William didn’t go back to Buffy’s house and she didn’t ask him.


Christmas was wonderful. William watched in awe as the church in The Garden was filled with a pure white light. ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ took on a different meaning when used as a call to the faithful to fill the church. The first notes seemed to hover, then float away rounding up the latecomers. The church was filled with candlelight and song. Christmas eve took on a special meaning here. It seemed to have a holy feeling throughout the place that radiated everywhere.

Coming out from the church he and Buffy watched as men and women stepped forward to where a bright light descended from above. They entered the light and emerged brighter, efflugent.

‘What’s happening?’ Whispered William, not wanting to break the moment.

‘A blessing from on high: they are the ones who will walk the earth this night spreading Heaven’s blessings amongst those who hold this day special. The same thing happens in other parts of the Garden at other festivals. They may walk in a hospital where the surgeons are fighting for a life, or bring a family back together. Miracles happen at Christmas and this is how.’

Later that same afternoon he was amazed to see a flying sleigh, pulled by reindeer, land outside the hospital and be filled with small children. ‘Where are they going?’ he wondered out loud.

‘Father Christmas’s place for tea, it’s the least we can do for them. It’s their first year without their parents.’ Buffy explained.

The children were laughing and calling to one another as the sleigh took off into the evening sky. The magic filled the hearts of every adult who had been privileged to see it.


It hurt Spike a little when Buffy told him she had married, but he was happy for her: she had her family. His life went from strength to strength; Blockbuster followed Blockbuster, award followed award and his greatest joy was still watching his son grow into a fine young man. His note- books contained flashes of memory, a photograph taken by the heart, the sound of Buffy laughing as that dammed elephant soaked him with water, or stole a cream bun from the table when they were sharing tea with Giles.


Giles watched as they grew closer and closer, becoming true soul-mates. And he was glad for them.

Spike felt the joy in Buffy’s heart when she had her child on earth. He hadn’t even realised that she was pregnant, and it was when she didn’t show for three months that he questioned Giles, only to be told she was concentrating on her new daughter. Spike was surprised that he felt no jealousy; he just felt happiness for the woman who meant so much to him. That she finally had her own family to love was a dream come true for her.

*

Francesca Anne Summers Doyle had been alive barely three years when her father was killed in a car crash. Buffy had collapsed at the hospital, and wound up in the Garden, distraught. Spike Atherton had been filming when he collapsed on set. The doctor at the studio couldn’t find anything wrong, but sent him home to sleep, diagnosing ‘flu. William’s sleep diary was filled with images of a crying woman.

He helped her pick up the pieces of her life; because of him, she managed to hold it together for both Dawn and Fran. She had been widowed at 27; Doyle was only 35. The drunk driver got charged with vehicular manslaughter. He was let out on bail, got drunk again and killed himself by wrapping his car around a tree. Buffy found it hard to feel sorry for him; something she’d have to work through later, she thought to herself. Dawn was 11 years old when she was left with no family other than Buffy and Fran. No parents, no brother, nothing. But Buffy kept her promises to Doyle, picked up the threads of her life and raised both girls together. Doyle had left her well cared for financially: no burger joint for her. In fact there was enough from the sale of his practise for Buffy to indulge a little in her love of painting. She helped out when she was needed in a little art gallery, she continued to work at the school, a school that had turned completely around under the headship of Robin Wood, it had gone from one of the worst schools in the area to one of the best. The counselling systems that she had set up were used as models for other establishments and Buffy started lecturing on her methods.

William and Buffy continued their friendship, sharing wonderful dreams, dancing to wonderful bands, riding his bike fast and getting shouted at by some old lady. Their days were filled with laughter and love.

*

The years just flew by. They shared picnics and dances, painting lessons and swimming. They brought children and young adults through their first difficult months and grew closer and closer.

After a year of widowhood, Buffy made the first move towards changing the relationship with William, inviting him home for coffee at her place in the garden. He was reluctant to agree. Their relationship had become so much more, but then he looked into her eyes and was lost all over again. Buffy was his and he was Buffy’s.

*

Spike was fixing coffee in the house they shared in the garden. In the last six years it had become their house, and Spike loved pottering. He loved the way Buffy had shifted a couple of chairs and put in a lovely winged seat so he could snuggle up and read his poetry. He loved the davenport desk tucked in amongst the guitars and the piano where he wrote the lyrics to songs. He polished the songs for hours on end then learned them off by heart. He was lucky enough to take the lyrics back with him in the mornings.
Spike Atherton was getting the reputation as a really good singer.

He was one of the few film stars to successfully make the transition from film to CD, from TV to stage. He was a success all over again. Spike looked at his cup of coffee and carried the second cup over to where Buffy was sitting in front of another canvas, painting another picture. This one showed Ellepant, with a couple of children on his back, playing in the lake. His trunk held high and a spray of water showering down over the children. Matt was clearly one of the models.

A flash of light from outside caught his attention. Spike looked out of the picture window and gazed in amazement as the sky filled with what appeared to be fireworks. Buffy put down her brush, and taking the second cup of coffee went outside to get a clearer view.

‘What is it?’ Asked Spike.

‘Soulmates meeting up after death for the first time in seventy or eighty years,’ replied Buffy. ‘This place, the Garden itself, puts on a celebration when they return.’

Spike felt warmed by the thought that somewhere in this fantastical place, someone else shared a love like his and Buffy’s. He put his arm around her and led her back inside. Kissing her as he did so.
Spike and Buffy wrapped the comforter around themselves and fell asleep together again.

They never spent another night apart and always fell asleep wrapped in each others’ arms, only to wake in their own beds in the morning.





You must login (register) to review.