SERIES : the Adventures of Buffy & Spike
PAIRING : Buffy/Spike
RATING : NC17
SPOILERS : major spoilers, I’ve
used actual show quotes from season four of Buffy.
DISCLAIMER : I do not own these
characters.
NOTES : I didn’t like season 4
with Buffy & Riley, so I rewrote it.
=====================================================================
She sat in the
kitchen at the table going through the mail. She flipped through the bills and
came across a pink piece of paper. “‘Come one, come all! Sunnydale’s second
annual Family Day! Close to the college campus with games and rides for all.’“
Hearing the words out loud was almost too much. The memories plastered in her
mind, sticking like gum to the bottom of her shoe. It has been three hundred
and sixty-three days since that day, not that she was counting. It had been three
hundred and sixty-three days, eleven hours and 22 minutes since she’d seen him
for the last time. He hadn’t called in three hundred and sixty-three days. He
hadn’t written to her or anyone else in three hundred and sixty-three days.
She remembered the last
words he’d said. She had heard them ‘I love you Bethy.’ He had whispered them
before he left. She hadn’t heard him leave, she felt him leave. She’d felt
empty ever since. The three hundred and sixty-three days since had gone by
slowly. The first one had almost gotten her arrested, until Xander showed up
and told the Carnival officials that Buffy was manic depressive and had
forgotten her medication, a lie then but not far from the truth. The next three
days were spent in the hospital by Willow’s side. When she was out of danger,
they had waited a few more days for her to wake up. A few days later they took
her home and a few days after that Willow officially moved into the house with
Buffy. Seven days after that Angel had gone back to Los Angeles and Buffy began
picking up the pieces of her life and losing hope that she would ever see him
again.
The next three
hundred and forty-three days had been about moving on with the help of shrink,
Betty. Moving on was hard to do in the house, but she refused to leave. The
constant reminders of him were both comforting and horrible at the same time.
The money was in her account, though she dared not touch it. The credit cards
in her name came in the mail and went unopened in a box in the closet. It took
her seventy days to accept the fact that he wasn’t coming back and another ten
after that to move from the porch swing where they had made love. It took her
an additional ten days to decide that she would and could go back to school,
with the help of medication and Betty. She had met with her advisor and started
the elementary education program. The following ninety-nine days was filled
with school and patrolling. The thirty-one days of Christmas vacation had been
spent in LA with her father and a few of them had been spent helping Angel
patrol. The next eighty-nine days were back at college. A few of those days had
actually been pleasant, as she spent time in a third grade classroom playing
and doing simple reading lessons on a volunteer basis.
The first seven days
of summer had been spent in the garden with Tara and Willow. But this depressed
her and the next three days were spent crying. The week after was filled with a
visit from her mother. And the next two days were used to help Willow pack for
a summer visit to Tara’s parents house in Massachusetts. And so the last
fifteen days had been spent wallowing in self-pity and loneliness, while
forgetting her medicine. And it appeared the next five days of Willow’s
vacation would be spent the same way. She tossed the flyer in the garbage and
ran a hot bath. Perhaps this would take up a few more hours of the three
hundred and sixty-third day.
------------------------------
The space he was
confined in was certainly not the best accommodations he’d ever had, but
certainly not the worst. Three hundred and sixty-three days, three hundred and
sixty-two nights. It had been three hundred and sixty-three days too many.
Hence his current predicament.
He’d listened to her
cry for a good hour before leaving. He walked out the door of the building in
which he hadn’t ever been. It was certainly not a place he ever wanted to go
again, but still, here he was. It had been traumatic, seeing only Buffy and
Willow in the mirrors. Talk about a place to make a vampire feel completely out
of his element, a house of mirrors was a good place to start. The first initial
evening had been spent finding cover from the approaching daylight. The first
day had been spent in the sewers, ironically close to where Buffy and Angel had
entered in order to escape being burned by the Judge. Fate was not without
irony. Dru had been the one, the reason he’d ever seen Buffy to begin with and
she had been the reason why he’d never see her again. Or so he thought three
hundred and sixty-three days ago.
The next twenty-one
days were spent on a cargo ship on its way to Japan. The next fifty days had
been spent learning Japanese. Luckily he was a quick study and even luckier he
was able to catch a quick meal without having to speak. Thank the gods for
small favors. The next twenty days had been spent sitting in a small dark room
with a fridge full of pig’s blood actually feeling guilty about breaking the
spit promise with Buffy about no more killing. He spent a good sixty more days
trying to sort himself out. Why had he left? Was it because he never loved
Buffy to begin with? Had he been using her? Why had killing Dru affected him so
much?
The next three days
were spent trying to find out if Willow was okay. He had moved around from town
to town in Japan, and into China trying to find peace. The realization that he
could not find peace there had taken an additional fifty days of travel. It had
taken thirty days to get back to Europe by stolen cars. He got to Greece and
was able to waste five days in a windowless train car on his way back home, on
English soil. One night was spent at his grave, and those of his family. One
night was spent at Dru’s grave saying goodbye, hoping that wherever she was,
she was happy and dancing with daises. Fifteen days after that were filled with
philosophical questions. Was Dru in Heaven or Hell? Had her soul been in Heaven
all along and her body now in Hell? Did it hurt when he had staked her? Had she
understood what had happened? Wherever she was, did she have her mental health
back? What would happen to him if the same happened? Had Angel’s soul gone to
Hell with him? These had been a few of the questions that would never be
answered until it was too late.
The next hundred days
were spent wallowing in self-pity. Killing just wasn’t as fun anymore without
someone to share it with. It wasn’t as much fun knowing he was breaking a
promise to his Buffy. Several of those days had been spent writing letters that
were subsequently burned or dialing their phone number, wondering if she still
lived there. It was on that hundredth day that he decided to get to a library
through the sewers. The next seven days were spent there doing research. He
broke into the Sunnydale University main frame and had gotten copies of her schedule
and grades. He checked the bank records and found that the money was completely
untouched. He’d even managed to read up on all the unexplained disasters in
Sunnydale. He also found out that she had been seeing a therapist for
depression. He spent five days reading through all the therapists’ notes, after
he’d broken into the main frame of course; gods bless the age of technology.
What he learned disturbed him. Buffy was ill. Manic depression, with slight
paranoia and violent tendencies, was the conclusion. “Manic depression with
suicidal tendencies as a result of broken relationships and unexplained
hostility toward her parents and a group of unknown people, referred to as the
‘Council and the HST’s.’ Patient has denied stay in treatment and I see no
grounds at this point to commit. However if signs of violence or suicidal talk
continue much further, or if patient suffers another episode, I am prepared to
take her case before the State of California.” Five days after that were spent
reading everything possible on manic depression.
It was twenty-nine
days ago when he’d gotten on the cargo ship that took fourteen days to get him
to New York City. He’d spent a week and a half in New York getting medication
and advice on how to deal with manic depression. He’d also visited the doctor
that had performed the chipectomy to make sure he’d been paid, but he’d been
paid in full some two hundred days ago. He found out that the second annual
Carnival was being held in Sunnydale. It had taken him one day to make the
arrangements with the doctor for the flight. And here he was, in a small crate
on a plane bound for Sunnydale, three hundred and sixty-three days since he’d
left.
------------------------------
She walked through
the cemetery and passed by the crypt Spike had once called home. She started
crying again, for the fifth time that day. It had been twenty-one days since
she’d stopped seeing Betty the shrink. She hated her and had wanted to punch
her face in. A vampire jumped out from behind a tombstone. “NOT NOW BASTARD!”
She plunged the stake through its heart and watched it turn to dust. “Damn
undead assholes. JUST STAY DOWN THERE!” She yelled at the ground as a hand
emerged from the ground. She pulled him up and he turned to dust before he was
able to look around. “See? Stay down there and you wouldn’t meet Mr. Pointy.
Mr. Pointy...” she started crying again.
He watched her kill
the two vampires, talking to herself all the while. She was clearly unstable.
It wouldn’t be safe if he just showed up out of the blue, would it? Course, it
wasn’t safe for her to be there by herself either. The rest of the night he
stayed twenty feet away, to make sure she was okay. He watched her walk into
their home and he stood in the bushes in the back as she swung herself to sleep
in the hammock on the back porch. He left a few minutes before dawn.
------------------------------
Three hundred and
sixty-four days. Tonight was the Carnival. Tonight at the stroke of midnight
would be a year since he left, three hundred and sixty-five days. It was the
first day she actually felt pretty calm. The first day in three hundred and
sixty-four days. Perhaps the ‘one day at a time’ attitude actually worked.
“Stupid Shrink! What did she know?” She sunk into the tub for another three hours.
Ten hours later, she was dressed and on her way to the Carnival. It was closing
in an hour and she found a place to hide until it closed.
------------------------------
He jumped over the
fence around the Carnival and saw the building he wanted. He was sure she’d be
there. He went in the house of mirrors and sat down on the floor in the middle
of the house and waited.
She sighed as she
opened the door and went inside, to find a few dozen Buffy’s standing at her.
There hadn’t been that many before, had there? She turned around and saw
nothing but herself. She started getting dizzy and stumbling through the house.
He heard shuffling
and crying. It was her; he could smell her vanilla lotion. He was about to
stand up, when she walked in front of him and froze.
She blinked a few
times. She pinched her arm and it hurt, she wasn’t dreaming. He was sitting on
the floor staring at her, looking exactly the same as he did before, as he
always would. She didn’t know what to say. The clarity was the first thing that
really got to her. No more haziness in her mind. She sunk to the floor five
feet away from him and just stared. For the past three hundred and sixty-five
days she’d been walking through a hazy fog. Suddenly, with him here, it made
sense, everything made sense again. The room stopped spinning, and she was
grateful, she had gotten quite a headache.
He had no idea what
she was thinking. She hadn’t moved for a stake, so that was a good sign. He
noticed she still had his ring on that he had given her. She still had the
necklace around her neck and his mark on her. As if she knew what he was
thinking, her fingers grazed over the mark at that moment. He just looked at
her for what seemed like hours until SHE moved. He watched her as she
unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off. She was wearing nothing underneath and
he inhaled a sharp unneeded breath. She crawled across the floor toward him and
sat directly in front of him. She took his hand off his thigh and placed a kiss
on it before placing it on her breast, gasping at its coldness. He looked in
the mirror and her hand appeared to be floating above her breast as it was
flattened slightly. He squeezed her a little and watched the picture in the
mirror, as her breast seemed to massage itself, with her hand an inch or so
away from it.
His hand felt so good
on her again and she realized what he was watching. She looked at the image as
he caressed her. She wanted so much more from him, more that she wasn’t sure he
could give, that he would give. Her hands slid up his arms and she looked in
the mirror as her hands glided up the air. She pulled his head to hers as their
lips touched for the first time in three hundred and sixty-five days. They were
cold, so cold and his hands slipped around her back and sent shivers down her
spine to her sex. She licked his lower lip and prodded his mouth open. They
both turned slightly to watch the mirror as her tongue apparently massaged the
air as she felt his cool tongue. She pulled away and looked deep into his eyes
and pulled his shirt off. She ran her hands over his broad chest as they
watched the image in the mirrors. There was a wall of air that stopped her
hands from moving in the air.
He kissed her gently
and she threw her head back as his kisses moved down her neck to her rosy
nipples, now peaking. She watched the mirror as a phantom suckled her right
breast. It was being pulled out a little before it returned to its normal
state, only to pull out again.
He watched the mirror
out of the corner of his eye as he suckled her nipple like a child. He moved
onto the other one as her hands ran down his back and in his hair. He felt her
hands pulling his boots off and she kicked her shoes off and moved into his
lap, grinding herself into him through their pants. In the mirror, it appeared
as though she was floating above the floor.
She wanted to see
more, more of him, more of herself, more in the mirrors. She unzipped his jeans
with one hand while stroking him with another. They both stood up, as if
connecting and jeans and panties were lost to the clothes heap on the floor. He
stood, erection proudly jutting out from his body. She pushed him back until he
was leaning against a mirror. She kissed him and got down on her knees, seeing
herself directly in front of her, through her phantom. She kissed his thighs
and kneaded his sac before taking the cool tip of his penis in her mouth. She
glanced at the mirror in front of her, behind him, and saw her mouth open wide.
She kept her eyes open and watched her face as she bobbed her head on his
erection. She watched how wide her mouth got and how her lips stretched when
she took him to the back of her throat.
He knew what she was
doing as he looked down at her. Her eyes were wide open watching herself
through his body. The fact that she was watching herself made him thrust into
her hot wet mouth and she moaned. He hissed in pleasure as he slid to the back
of her throat. He was so close. She raked her teeth along his length and he
shot his cool seed in the back of her throat. She continued sucking on him,
milking him for whatever he would give. He dropped to his knees beside her and
kissed her, tasting himself in her mouth. He pushed her back and she supported
herself with her elbows so she could sit up and spread her legs. She wanted to
watch herself. He’d give her a show.
She watched as he
kissed his way down her stomach and navel. His hands slid down to her thighs
before his mouth was there and she watched as his fingers spread her soft folds
apart before sliding two inside her. He turned toward the mirror and watched as
his fingers slid in and out, watching her watch herself. He looked at her and
smiled before running his tongue along the length of her slit. His tongue
slipped in with his fingers and she moaned softly as his cool tongue and
fingers ran circles inside, pressuring the walls of her tight passage. He
lapped at the juices that were flowing freely onto the floor. She watched as
some disappeared and other droplets hit the floor. She watched as her lips were
spread by his thumbs and his tongue slipped inside. She saw where he thrust his
tongue in and out, where it disappeared inside her. He then thrust his fingers
inside her and licked her nubbin. She moaned and sighed as he finally took it
in his mouth. She felt his fangs graze over it and she watched a little drops
of blood oozed out the two little cuts. She watched as they disappeared into
her phantom lover. She watched as she felt his fangs pierce her inner thigh as
the blood came out, and dripped down to the floor as his mouth drank from her.
She stared into her own eyes as her orgasm hit and she bucked into his face,
into his fingers, as she arched her back into his touch.
He looked at her with
his human mask and pleaded, begged permission to enter her. He saw her warm
inviting eyes as she spread her legs further for him. He kissed her and they
struggled to keep their eyes open. She was watching herself, as he was watching
her watch herself. She was beautifully entranced by the erotic images in the
mirrors. Her fingers encased his girth and her eyes grew wide at the image of
her guiding a phantom into her warmth. He thrust inside and gasped at the heat.
He felt like he would burst into flames, being fully encased in her tight heat.
He watched her eyes as he began thrusting inside her.
She watched in the
mirror as she was opened wide to the ghost that entered her. She squeezed her
muscles around him and could almost see them contract. He growled loudly and
she did it again and again. She shifted slightly trying to put pressure on her
clit, and he slid a hand between their bodies and she rode his thumb as he
continued to pound into her, firmly but lovingly. The images and the feelings
were just too much. She met his eyes and gave her permission to him, she wanted
him to claim her again, she needed him to.
He looked back at her
with yellow eyes and she bared her neck to him. He sunk his fangs into the
tender skin and felt her blood splashing in his mouth. She tasted so good, so
right. He could taste her arousal and her orgasm as she arched into him. She
bit down into his neck and he gave one more hard thrust and bathed her insides
with his cool essence.
She watched as the
blood gushed out the two puncture wounds. Some drizzled down to her breasts
while the rest disappeared, seemingly vanished into vapor as soon as it left
her body. She laid back and he tried rolling off her, but she didn’t want to
lose the contact so she rolled onto of him and looked at the mirror one last
time. She was floating above the ground. She spread out over him as his arms
wrapped around her. She put her ear to his chest and heard him purring, she
felt it throughout her body. She was home in his arms. He was home still buried
deep inside her. She knew everything would be okay. “I love you William.” She
whispered into his chest.
“I love you too
Bethy.” He said as he kissed the top of her head. Things would work out. He was
home, he could feel home around him, above him, in her warmth. They didn’t need
to talk. They’d said it all in the reflections. Reflections of the past were
forgiven. Reflections of darkness, brought into the light. They laid there in
complete silence, listen to him purr. In their silence they found forgiveness.
In their solitude they found their light.
~El Fin~
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