Broken Circles

By Larilyn

Larilyn1@hotmail.com

www.geocities.com/larilyn1975

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Buffy et al belong to Joss and ME. "Broken Circles" written and performed by Aruna. "Heaven" written by Matthew Hager and Mindi Abair and performed by Mindi Abair. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: AU. What if Angel had never been cursed with a soul? How would that change Spike?

This takes place during the fifth season of B:tVS. Things in Sunnydale are very different without Angel & Spike’s interference. Answer to a challenge on Buffy/Spike diaries.

"Don't you get tired of fights you know you're gonna win?"

Spike to Angelus, Fool for Love

Chapter 10

Spike lay battered on the ground. The fall from the window had broken his back. Combining that with the injuries sustained in the fight and at Drusilla’s hands… he couldn’t move.

A long forgotten voice echoed in his head.

"Bloody hell woman! That hurts!" Spike bellowed as the Slayer pulled the bullets from his back as he lay on his stomach.

"Well, if you had been more careful and not gotten shot!" She retorted, blue eyes blazing.

"A little gratitude, chere, is that too much to ask? I used my body as a bloody shield."

"Yes." She giggled as she poured peroxide onto his wounds. "Merci beaucoup, mon ami, for protecting me."

"Ungrateful…"

She slapped the back of his head. "I said thank you."

"You’re infuriating." He grumbled.

"And you, I should have staked a long time ago, vampire. But for the love of France…" she sighed.

"That’s not all you love." He said as he sat up.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She asked, a crimson blush spreading across her porcelain cheeks.

"I mean," he explained, not noticing her flushed state, "That you enjoy fighting the Nazis."

"Well," she said, relieved, "I am the Slayer. Its in my nature."

"It’s in your nature to fight monsters."

"They are monsters," she explained, tucking her strawberry blonde hair behind her ears. "Of the human variety." After a pause she told him, "Colonel Rol is calling for an insurrection. All over Paris."

"Funny, that’s I thought that’s what we’ve been doing." Spike stretched his sore muscles as Gabrielle averted her eyes from the sight of his bare chest. "They should wait for the Allies. What’s the communiqué say?"

"Occupation of the Prefecture of Police will begin tomorrow." Gabrielle was giddy with the thought of the impending uprising.

"Gabrielle." Spike took the Slayer’s arms and gave her a gentle shake. "Stay of the streets tomorrow. You’ve done enough for the resistance. You have a higher calling."

She looked as if she were about to protest, but the look of concern in his eyes told her not to. "Bien sur, William. I’ll see you tomorrow night then?"

He nodded as he put his blood stained shirt back on. "Gabby, promise me. Stay off the streets."

"Je vous le promets."

***

Spike took the pocket watch out of his breast pocket and checked it again. She was late.

Steady footsteps approached him. They were too light, but he asked anyway, "Gabrielle?"

Out of the darkness, a boy approached him. "Monsieur William?"

"Yes?" He answered with uneasiness.

"A letter sir." The boy handed him a slip of paper and fled into the night.

My William,

Your Gabrielle

"You promised." Choked Spike. "You promised."

He slipped back into oblivious unconsciousness.

***

Buffy surveyed her surroundings. She stood at the top of a scaffold which jutted high into the Sunnydale sky. Angelus stood before her, chained in place. Buffy commented to Glory. "Nice place. Not at all noticeable."

Glory glanced at her watch, ignoring the Slayer. "Its almost time."

Angelus snarled at Buffy, "You think you meant anything to him? He collects Slayers. That’s what he does."

"So I should be glad you killed him and let you go?" Buffy asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I don’t think so."

Glory announced, "It’s time."

Buffy gave a small smile as she plunged a sword deep into Angelus’s abdomen.

With a crackle and a flash of lightning, the portal opened. It glowed a brilliant blue.

"Its been real." Glory said just before she dived into the portal.

Buffy yanked the sword from the vampire and then swung it at his neck. His head fell into the portal, the rest of his body collapsed into dust. The portal had closed as swiftly as it had opened.

The sun began to peek over the horizon and Buffy was left on the scaffolding. Alone.

Whistler approached the body lying prone on the ground. "Aw, jeez. You poor kid, they really worked you over good."

Spike, unconscious, did not reply.

Whistler looked up to see the sun’s young rays approaching Spike’s body. "Wait a minute," he complained, "It can’t end like this."

He looked up to the sky and yelled, "It can’t end like this!"

Buffy walked home in the early light of dawn. The streets were painted an eerie gray. A lone tear escaped and splattered against the sidewalk.

At the Bronze that night, Tara and Willow danced to the slow song, clinging to each other the way young lovers do.

Tara glanced at Buffy, sitting at their table nursing a drink. "Maybe we should have let her stay home."

Willow shook her head, her red hair kissing her shoulders, "No, I didn’t want her to be alone at the house. Dawn and her mom will be home tomorrow. She’ll be all right then."

Buffy sat at the table, playing with the straw in her Coke. A celebration, Willow had said. For getting rid of Glory and defeating Angelus.

She didn’t feel at all like celebrating.

She glanced up at Willow and Tara, so in love. A rustle of black leather across the room caught her eye.

I say a prayer that someday you will be with me

Buffy treaded lightly toward him, afraid that it was all an illusion.

Her hands touched his face. He was real.

Spike inhaled her scent when she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

She pulled back in shock. She had felt it, the warm rhythm pounding deep in his chest. Her eyes asked if it was real. They asked how.

His smile answered, ‘Does it matter?’

Her tears told him that it didn’t.

Their warm lips pressed together in a promise that they would hold nothing back for the rest of their lives.

End