The Protectors
By Heather Martin
Rated – R
Summary- The monks gave Buffy and Spike one night of fake memories. That would have been enough to change their lives. But when you add a glowing key in the form of an unborn baby, well . . . things wouldn’t just change, they would be turned completely upside-down
Disclaimer- Joss Whedon owns Spike’s eyebrow scar, his bleached hair, his crystal blue eyes, his manly arms, his muscular chest, his tight . . . *cough* Too bad isn’t it? But a girl can dream, right?
Spoilers- Starts during Out of My Mind. The entire Season 5, although I changed it tremendously to suit my own purpose
Chapter 16
If someone was going to vote on one thing Buffy did better than anything else it might be running away. During the journey all she had to concentrate on was the pump of her muscles, the inhale and exhale of her breath. But when she reached wherever she was heading, well then everything she had been dissociating from came back.
She ended up at Giles’s apartment. She didn’t know why exactly, maybe to confess her sins. As she came to a halt, her hand came up to touch the mark Spike’s fangs had left. It had almost closed completely. She realized that he had barely nicked her. Actually, looking back on it, the bite had felt like a hickey, pleasurable. And it came to her why she had come to Giles. She needed for him to wipe out her uncertainties. He was good at hammering the slayer code into her brain: vampires bad, slayers good.
Buffy hadn’t expected to find a whole army waiting for her. She froze at their dire and concerned expressions. Except Anya, the ex-demon seemed annoyed.
Xander stood up from his seat in the recliner. “Buff, I uh . . . saw you . . . uh. . . you were . . . with . . .”
Buffy swallowed and found it unable to speak.
“Oh come on,” Anya said. “You were boinking Spike. I don’t see what such the big deal is, though.” She crossed her arms.
Xander shot his girlfriend a look. “It is Spike. Spike is a vampire.”
Shrugging, Anya said,” Well, I’m happy for Buffy. Vampires make wonderful lovers. They have the stamina of more then ten men and the muscles of –“
“Ahn!” He focused back on Buffy. “We don’t want you getting hurt.”
Willow took Tara’s hand. “We’re worried, Buffy. We’ll love you no matter what, but . . . We think you might need help.”
Buffy surveyed the whole gang. Her eyes landed on Giles, the reaction she really cared about. He was clearly uncomfortable, but to her relief not disappointed.
“I need help,” Buffy declared.
“I told you she needed help,” Xander told Anya. Buffy tried to shut out the other voices.
Giles’s wise, warm eyes met hers. “What is the matter? Explain it to me.” His voice soothed her.
“Things used to be so clear. Now everything is . . . gray.” She articulated her point by doing a few hand gestures. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is, or even what the wrong thing is. I’m lost, Giles, and I can’t find my way back.”
Giles opened his mouth, but Buffy continued. “I also feel so . . . nothing. I don’t feel anything. I know I love my daughter. I love my mom. I love you, Giles.” She gazed up at him, as if she was small and he had all the answers. “But I can’t express it the way I know I should.”
“Are you serious?” The statement conveyed total shock.
“Serious to the amount of ten. I need help to find myself again.”
He thought for a moment. “There is a quest . . . in the watchers’s diaries. A journey to find answers. It might take a day or two, and we’d have to drive out to the desert.”
Buffy looked around the room at her friends. Everyone looked back at her, waiting.
“I can’t leave when Glory . . .”
“This might strengthen you, Buffy,” Tara said.
“Yeah,” Willow chimed in. “You can come back all epiphanied and ready to kick her ass.”
“I agree,” Giles said. “If you feel that you need some sort of self discovery or, or enlightenment then I support this a hundred percent.”
So it was settled. Buffy decided to go to the desert. She didn’t know what to expect but Giles seemed to think that it was the solution to everything. She hoped it would clarify all the conflicting thoughts that were battling in her brain, most of them having to do with a certain bleached-blonde.
+ + +
Hours later, Buffy found herself out in the middle of nowhere. Giles conducted some weird hokey-pokey ritual with gourds that amused her. He then sat in a circle and chanted from a book in Swahili. She sensed movement to her left. She turned her head to see that it was a black mountain lion. Power illuminated from the feline. It held itself with dignity and grace.
“Hello, kitty,” Buffy greeted the cat.
The mountain lion wandered off without glancing back. Buffy felt compelled to follow it. She wondered if this animal was her spirit guide. She remembered that the Native Americans believed in that sort of thing.
They traveled a long distance. There were hardly any landmarks, just the same seldom bush now and then. The sun began to set, chilling the air. The mountain lion went up to a large rock and stopped. Buffy went over and sat down upon it.
“I know this place,” Buffy whispered.
All of a sudden a giant fire burst up in front of her. Buffy watched the flames with great expectation. A form emerged in their depths. Buffy concentrated to make out that it was a dark-skinned woman with a painted face.
“I know you. You’re the first slayer,” Buffy said.
“This is a form. I am the guide,” a ghostly voice answered.
Oh. So the kitty wasn’t the guide. This spirit, or whatever, was.
“I have a few questions. I want to know about my role as the slayer. I feel like I’ve lost my way.”
The First Slayer danced before the current chosen one. “You feel distanced from things. You must connect with your surroundings.”
“How do I do that?”
“This is no fault but your own. You have subconsciously stepped back from fear. Shed this fear: love, forgive, risk the pain. Only then will you be brought to your gift.”
Buffy blinked. A gift?
“Huh?” She paused. “Love will bring me to my gift?”
“Yes.”
“I’m getting a gift? Or do you mean I have a gift to give someone else?” Buffy questioned.
The First Slayer stilled in the midst of orange glow. “Death is your gift.”
“Death . . .” Buffy barely breathed.
“Is your gift,” the guide finished.
Buffy shook her head. “No!” she protested. “Death is ‘not’ a gift. I’ve seen people die. I know that it is not a gift to anyone.”
“There is no life without death. Your answer has been answered.”
The First Slayer flickered until she faded away. The fire slowly slipped along after her. Buffy remained on the rock for a long time. She bowed her head, closing her eyes. She was even more confused than before she came.
+ + +
Buffy snuggled up to her pillow, putting off waking up. She had never felt so comfortable before.
“Buffy, luv, you do know it is after ten.”
Her pillow rumbled with the words. Funny.
“Mmm, don’t wanna,” she mumbled.
The pillow rumbled again and she heard laughter. A hand combed through her hair. She surrendered to the morning and lifted her head. Her eyes met the shocking blues of Spike’s. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Of course, he was her pillow. No wonder it felt so comfy.
“Want some breakfast?” Spike suggested.
“Waffles. Or funny-faced pancakes sound good.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Anything for my girls.”
He threw off the blankets and got up from the bed. She eyed his bare ass with appreciation. He looked back at her with a lifted eyebrow.
“Gonna get up, pet?” Spike playfully scolded.
“I’d rather stay and watch your naked cute butt,” she said.
He chuckled. He grabbed her, forcing her from the mattress. She groaned in protestation. Soon she was dressed in a blue silk robe, and ready to venture downstairs.
They entered the kitchen to find a fifteen year-old at the island. The girl looked up from her bowl of cocoa-puffs.
“Finally,” she huffed.
“Dawn, your father was going to fix yummy pancakes,” Buffy said.
Dawn shoveled in another mouthful of cereal. She spoke with a full mouth. “I’m not waiting until eleven for breakfast. You guys sleep in so late. I don’t get it; you went to bed at like ten last night.”
The adults shared an amused look. Dawn rolled her eyes. She was no longer a child and knew what the look meant.
“Ewww!” the teen shrieked. “I get it. That’s so gross! God, why can’t you be like Janice’s parents and do it when I’m away?”
Buffy frowned.
“Aren’t Janice’s parents going through a divorce?” Spike asked.
“Y-Yeah,” Dawn confessed.
Spike smirked. He grabbed his wife around the waist, tugging her flush against him. “See, that’s where Janice’s parents went wrong. It’s all about the sex.”
“Spike!” Buffy reprimanded.
“Oh, please, I’m not a little girl anymore!” Dawn said. “I know about the sex. Hello, Aunt Anya baby-sat me.”
Spike reached over and ruffled his daughter’s hair. “You’ll always be my nibblet.”
+ + +
“Buffy?”
Buffy’s head shot up. She sucked in a breath. Things slowly came into focus. She was back in the desert. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Are you all right?” Giles asked.
Buffy stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Did you get your answers?”
She paused. “Actually, yes, I think I did.”
_________________________________________________
[Reviews - 327]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 4452 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +