ATTENTION BEFORE YOU READ: I updated TWICE within the last 48 hours so please please make sure you read chapter 22 (Not Cubic Zirconia) BEFORE you read this one. Thank you! :)
And yes, this is the final chapter of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it!
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One Month Later
Buffy heaved a few deep breaths and stared at the pile of dust near her feet.
She staked a vampire. A real vampire.
Looking up when the sound of rhythmic clapping pierced her daze, she found Spike smiling proudly at her. "Nice work, love."
They had been sparring together for weeks now, and Buffy learned that being mated to a vampire really did provide some extra perks.
Not only could Buffy run faster now, and heal quicker and see better at night, but she was stronger. She could lift things it would take two burly men to carry. She could kick a punching bag off its chain and into a wall. She could also kick her boyfriend's ass, on occasion.
That was probably her favorite part. Buffy loved trading blows, throwing all her energy into a tussle, and hitting Spike in the nose. Fighting got her blood up, drove the two of them crazy with lust, and also served as a good method for releasing tension.
Buffy tucked her stake into the waistband of her jeans and walked to his side. When first Spike said he believed she was ready to come out- to hunt with him, to stake some nasties and tour the cemeteries -Buffy's prime emotion was nervousness.
She got over it, though. After all, she was the one who brought up the idea, two weeks into training. Spike enjoyed killing, unashamedly, even other vampires and demons; he said he liked the violence, and given that she herself liked sparring with him so much, making use of the extra strength supplied to her by the claim seemed both beneficial and exciting.
It turned out Sunnydale was filled with critters, and Buffy figured Spike and she could help with the cleanup. He explained which demons were harmless, no more guilty of bad deeds than most humans, and she was happy to lay off their backs. There were certainly enough vampires in town to keep busy.
Strange, this urge to hunt of hers, but Buffy accepted it as both natural and practical. It was a rush, satisfied the needs of Spike's demon and her connection to it.
It had taken some convincing, at first, to bring him into her way of thinking. Spike was reluctant to let her fight anyone but him, as he didn't actually want to eat her.
Or not in the nutritional sense, anyway.
Buffy latched onto his own reasoning that she needed to learn how to protect herself, especially in Sunnydale. Finally, Spike caved, but made Buffy promise she would never go out alone, looking for a fight.
Now they stood in a warm, quiet cemetery, with green grass, headstones, and vampire remains around their feet. She'd dusted what Spike called a "fledgling," and apparently their supposed inexperience didn't stop them from leaving behind a big mess.
Spike opened his arms and tugged Buffy in close. She looked up at his shining blue eyes with a smile. "I did good, didn't I?" she said.
"Amazing, sweetheart." He wasn't fibbing. Seeing her twirl kicks and land punches was like poetry. Even the things that could be perfected were maneuvered with brutal talent that no one could fake. She was a natural fighter, even without the extra strength lent from the claim.
"Thanks," she replied, grinning proudly. "You know I could feel you the entire time."
Spike arched a brow. "That's suddenly odd?"
"I could feel your anxiety," she clarified. Along with something else much more vibrant and heated, but she wouldn't mention that right now.
"Oh." He frowned. "I'm sorry, love. Shouldn't be distracting you when you're fighting. I'll try and hold back next-"
"Spike, you didn't distract me at all," she interrupted, then, Buffy shrugged. "It was sweet. I just- I don't want to scare you every time... I wasn't distracted, but I don't want you to be worried all the time, either."
Spike tugged her yet closer and brushed a hand over her hair. "I'll always worry, kitten. That's why I'm here. 'Cause if something ever..." His lips firmed and a pang of distress shot through their connection, stemming from his side. "I don't want you going out alone."
"I won't," she promised, not for the first time and she was sure not for the last. Buffy took his left hand, twisting the simple band on his ring finger around with her thumb. She still found it amusing- after thinking on it she realized this -just how sure Spike had been that he would win her over. That he would get a diamond on her hand. He'd bought the ring long before Buffy admitted aloud that she liked him, let alone declared herself his wife in society's eyes. "I'm not... I won't do that," she said again. "Not if it scares you."
"Good." Spike's touch waved down her throat and grazed the claim mark there, making Buffy shiver. Moving down her waist, until finally settling his hand on her hip, Spike leaned closer and she noticed his pupils expand. "It's not the only thing watching you does to..." His murmur became a ghost.
All distress fell from her face and she laughed, trying not to succumb to the heat rising in her blood just yet. "Spikey," she chimed innocently, "does watching me fight another vampire get you hot?"
He growled roughly at the way she'd said it, all wide open lips and teasing eyes. He snaked a hand down her jeans, reveling in the answering moan he received. Her expression of mock innocence slipped away as he grazed her clit. "Watching you do anything gets me hot."
Buffy whimpered as his fingers played inside her jeans, then pushed him away and took a few stumbling steps backward. Hands outstretched in a halting gesture, Buffy panted while she stared at the predatory look on Spike's face. "Naughty vamp," she breathed. "We can't do anything here."
"Who says?"
"Me. We're in public, and potentially... deadly surroundings."
"Bad pun, love." He could gladly show her the benefits to breaking public indecency laws, but she was right on that other point. And the last thing he wanted was someone else getting a peek at what belonged to him, even if it was just a vampire they could vacuum up later.
His tongue poked out from behind white teeth as he thought quickly. "Feel like christening the guest room?"
"Again?" she asked with a brow flick that reminisced of Spike's old habit. Now that Darla was moved into her own place, Spike and Buffy had "christened" just about every room in the house; in a myriad of ways.
The one he spoke of now was where he'd once slept on a cot. They were almost finished turning it into a real guest room, filled with a brand new bed, wardrobe, and Dawn's choice of new paint.
Spike shrugged, head tilted endearingly. "Haven't exactly broken in the mattress yet."
"There's a good reason for that," she said, taking another step back as he came closer. "It's for guests."
He rolled his eyes. "We'll change the sheets."
Buffy bit her lip, sorely tempted to listen to him and run back home. A fire was already stoked high and hot from the fight, from his nearness, from Spike's fingers down her pants a few moments before. But they had a date to make. "We have to meet Faith, Darla, and Xander and Dawn at the Bronze, remember?"
Spike groaned as he studied Buffy's body. She was dressed in low rise, tight denim jeans and a slinky black halter that made his mouth water. She was all dressed up for their little get together with the others, and he had practically forgotten all about it while watching her. Watching her fight, walk, breathe. The woman could be putting on socks and he would be two seconds away from losing it and throwing her ankles over his shoulders. He always wanted her.
Indeed, she was poetry. In every which way. Enough so to make him forget his head if it wasn't screwed on when she walked away.
Spike sighed, resisting the urge to tackle her as he followed.
Buffy leaned into his body as he threw an arm around her waist, hooking a thumb into one of the empty belt loops on her jeans. "If they're out of the wings again, I'm going to-"
"What, eat the bartender?"
He snarled playfully and nipped at her earlobe. Maybe they could get away with a bit of groping on the dance floor. "Might eat you, right in front of your mates."
"Is that a challenge?" she demanded.
Quickly hiding his excitement even after it shone through the widening of his eyes, Spike smirked. "Oh baby, you have no idea what you just signed on for."
Buffy furtively snuck her hand under his duster to squeeze one firm butt cheek. When he stumbled she held in a giggle. "I knew what I was dealing with the minute I met you." She sent him a brilliant smile. "I love a challenge."
Another nip to her earlobe. Buffy bit her tongue to keep quiet. It was gruelingly difficult, though, when he trailed delicate kisses along her neck. "You're not going to win this one, kitten," he whispered.
Buffy shoved him when he tried to suck on the claim mark. "I'm going to have you begging before drinks are served," Spike murmured. His cocky chuckle made her spine go rigid with determination, and she ignored the pudding-like feeling in her legs as she said, "You're the one who's going to be getting served."
"Terrible comeback, love, but nice try."
She resisted the urge to kick him. "You're already losing."
"Pissing you off is part of the fun."
"And you do it so well," she remarked sweetly.
Spike smirked again. "It's one of my top priorities," he said with mock sincerity. "That, and shagging you silly."
"You are so bad at this." Buffy sidestepped when Spike tugged her out of the way of a headstone.
"I think I'm rather good at both," he said.
"Whatever, buddy." She moved her hand to the front of his jeans and squeezed the telltale bulge there before he could notice where her fingers had gone.
Spike cursed and suddenly attacked her lips in a wet, consuming kiss. He was not the first to pull away. When she did, it was to take in desperate gasps of air Buffy truly wished she didn't need.
However, the intake of oxygen restored brain function and she quickly moved away a few inches so their bodies no longer touched. She fisted his T-shirt collar and stared into his deep, black eyes. "Like I said: Already losing, blood sucker."
Spike felt a growl well up in his throat at her triumphant giggle. He watched Buffy waltz away from him but only let her get so far before catching up. "Truce until we get to the sodding club," he muttered.
Buffy smirked a smirk to rival one of Spike's own. Tempted more than ever, fighting her own hunger and the desire stemming from the claim, she refused to say a word. Her pulse was pumping at a ridiculously fast beat and she knew he could hear it, but if it killed her, she was going to make him beg first tonight. He always got her pleading, every time. It was her turn to drive him to the brink of insanity, bring Spike so close to the edge of pleasure with loving torture that he fell to his knees for once. Darla and Faith would be so proud.
*One thing's for sure,* Buffy thought, *tonight is definitely going to be fun.* As would the rest of their eternity.
Smiling, both trying to resist from pushing the other against the nearest tree or parked car, Spike and Buffy walked blissfully- if a bit sexually frustrated -towards the Bronze. Their laughter wafted through the air, almost resembling the whisper of magnolia leaves in the wind, and definitely echoing a promise of happily forever after.
***
Meanwhile, at the Bronze...
Darla was leaning against the bar. Her view of the dance floor was just marvelous for watching the attractive patrons grinding like animals to an overplayed rock song. It was teasing her demon and agitating her inner beliefs in decorum all at once.
Darla was like anyone else in a club on a Saturday night; she liked to have fun. Which often included dancing, but many of these people did not know how to dance, and what she was privileged with viewing at the moment was equal parts frustrating and entertaining. Faith was honestly one of the only people out there who knew how to move.
Darla sipped her martini and turned away from the scene with a little sigh. Odd, how this place had gone from thrilling to dull in approximately four years to her younger self, and now, she appreciated it in a completely different way. Even with the never-getting-better "dancers" and tired looking couches and chairs, the Bronze had both changed and stayed the same. Time and God knows what other force of nature drew fresh crowds, visitors and new neighbors alike, to Sunnydale, and they all liked to party it up at the same place. The only place.
The men were attractive, some of them, anyhow. While neither Faith nor Darla ever seemed to be wanting for dance partners or drink buyers, flirting did not always hold a constant appeal.
Maybe it was Buffy and Spike, and how comfortable they seemed together, but lately Darla found herself in want of... Well, someone.
She shook her head at that. What on earth was she thinking? Men were immature, nonsensical, and often more pain than they were ever worth. She hadn't been in love before, and for good reason. No one captured her attention, or her heart, long enough for it to happen. She'd been a free bird all her life, even after death.
Funny, how Darla suddenly realized that she was settling down in one place for the very first time. The same town she had claimed too boring at the age of fourteen, and too small at seventeen, then horribly constricting after being turned into a vampire at an age where legally, she was an adult but underneath she was only halfway there.
She supposed there were firsts for everything. Look at Buffy and Spike; two mates finding each other in a tiny town in California, and one of them a human, at that. Talk about rare.
Darla gazed up at the balcony, decorated with tallboy tables and quiet conversationalists. She didn't expect love to come around for her, not anytime soon, at least. Life was tricky; unwritten, unpredictable. Especially eternal ones. It all had a habit of setting you on your feet only to push you off a ledge moments later. She was just glad she would have her best friend now to live it out with, and remember the ghosts of the past.
She set her empty glass down on the bar. Where was that friend of hers, anyway? Spike and her better not be late because they were busy acting on their baser instincts. Darla was losing patience with that excuse.
She looked around the crowded room. Dawn and her other half were on their way, she knew. She'd gotten a cell phone since moving into her own place, and Xander had called to let her know his wife was taking forever picking out an outfit that "wouldn't make her look fat." God only knew why that baby was growing so fast. Either way, the distraction did little t help Xander's nerves when he was around Spike and Darla.
She smiled to herself. You couldn't not love making Xander squeal like a monkey if you had the power.
Darla's expression froze in place when she caught glances with a man standing across the distance. He must have thought she was smiling purposefully at him, because now there he was, grinning a friendly welcome, his eyes focusing.
*Ooh, well aren't you something...* He was tall, brunette, and clearly human, but there was a glitter in his eye that she liked. Those broad shoulders hunched a little, but he was so tall it hardly mattered, and Darla had the rather abrupt idea that they might be curling beneath the weight of life's burdens. He had a dark exterior, strong build, and beautiful face. The face of an angel.
An angel, who was smiling avidly now, and slowly he slipped between the people in front of him to make his way through the crowd.
Her cold heart, the one that was supposed to be dead, felt like it might be echoing out into the void of her chest with a tap-tap beat. She took in big gasps, silent and unneeded, as he came closer.
*Oh, my God,* she thought. Angels could have eyes as dark as the devil's shadow, and all because those eyes had found her.
Suddenly, while the man moved ever nearer, it felt like she had fallen off a ledge, and something inside went click.
"Hi," he said, in a voice rich with hope she knew the reason for but he didn't. "I'm Angel."
And there it was. In his eyes. On his face. In both their chests.
For the first time, Darla was grateful that she had been made a vampire.
THE END
"Endurance, Eternity, and Long Life
Of the many interesting facts about the magnolia flower, the most striking one is that it is a very old flower. In fact, there are fossils dating back 20 million years that show that the flower has been gracing Earth since the very beginning of time, so to say. The magnolia is also a very tough, hard flower, unlike other delicate flowers. This is owing to the fact that it has had to adapt to changing climactic and geological conditions in order to survive, and it is precisely due to this feature that the flower represents endurance, eternity, and long life."
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And we have come to the end! HUGE thanks to everybody who read this story, who reviewed, who nominated/voted at the Sunny-D awards, and who paid it any kind of attention at all. I appreciate it so much. The reviews not only helped fuel this fic, but some gave me ideas for plot points in it, and it was a ton of fun to write. I hope you all like the ending, and the future Darla will undoubtedly have with her human mate. She and Spike were similar in their uniqueness as vampires, so I figured she must have a human mate out their somewhere, too. And really, who better than Mr. Angel? (I always liked them together.)
Please let me know what you thought of this closing chapter, and the story as a whole! I love getting reviews no matter how short or how long after a story has been finished. And again, thank you everyone who read A Stranger in the Garden! I really couldn't have written it without your help, support and attention. *hugs!*
P.S. Magnolia references! Yay! Found that quote/info at buzzle (.com) It's fitting, don't you think?
P.P.S. If anyone's interested, I have two new spuffy fics currently in the works that I hope to post soon (at least one of them)! One is going to be fairly short (I think...) and the other I'm unsure about, but I just wanted to get it out there. I can't wait to share them!
All right I'm done blabbering now. Until next time, dears! :) *blows kisses*
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