TITLE: Shangri-La AUTHOR: Foxhunt2blue RATING: R SUMMARY:"You were changed...you became obayifo," her dark eyes studied his pale face... ARCHIVE: Please do just let me know! :D FEEDBACK: Nothing better than ...well maybe I forgot I can't say that in mixed company...*giggle foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com or Kitsunegari2001@aol.com ~~~~~~~~~~~ Shangri-La ~~~~~~~~~~~ Somewhere in the night... Someone feels the pain The ones who walk away Try to love again... "Trouble in Shangri-La" Stevie Nicks Agony was to light a word to describe what rushed through his body...through his mind...through his soul. Soul? William drew one agonizing breath, trying to remember where he was, what was happening. A gentle hand pressed him down as he fought to set up. Dark eyes the color of melted chocolate smiled down at him, set in an ancient face just as dark. "Are you okay Master Spike?" Shaking his head he looked around for who this woman was speaking too. "Sir?" she ran one withered, calloused hand along his face. "My name is William...," he whispered, his eyes darting around the room. He was in a tent of some sort, the strong scent of herbs making his nose twitch. "Ahhh...so you have found what you've came seeking?" "Where am I?" he struggled to set up, his eyes widening when he realized he was naked beneath the course blanket. "Where are my clothes...what the bloody hell is going on?" He clutched the blanket with shaking hands. She stood moving to the flap of the tent where a young boy with mahogany skin appeared, teeth brilliant white bared in a wide smile. Their words were spoken with an urgency he understood despite the fact he didn't recognize the language. "Where am I?!" he practically screamed as she moved back to the pallet where he sat shaking. "Africa." "Africa?" his eyes widened. "What is the last thing you remember, sir?" "I was walking down Normandy street...I...a woman...a beautiful woman with long dark hair...," he paused trying to focus on the vision of milky skin, dark hair and ruby...no burgundy velvet. A porcelain doll, yet there was an edge of madness to her eyes. "Focus Master...," her voice was soothing. Flickering images played against the darkness of his eyelids. "...dru...oh...god," there was pain in his throat. Fire blooming in his veins...the taste of blood. Honey skin. Golden strands of silk moving against his pale flesh. Warm breath against his throat, but this time it was different. *make me feel alive* Long muscled legs wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his back as he thrusts into her warmth. She wanted what he wanted, she wanted to feel alive. *anything you want doll* William's eyes opened as another wave of agony ripped through his gut. Blood staining his hands, his lips, filling his throat. "Jesus! OH, GOD!! SAVE ME!!" What had she done to him? What had they done to him? "They feed your anger with a power that came from the darkness." "I...I killed someone...I drank their... jesus...," he let out a moan his stomach lurching. "You were changed...you became obayifo," her dark eyes studied his pale face. "What?" "The ones from the west call you many things, but you might recognize vampire." He laughed then. Hysterical, terrified laughter that left him gasping for air. "You came to us in search of something. You were filled with anger...with pain. A woman, but just not any woman." "The slayer...," he gasp out through hot tears. "He gave me my soul back...I didn't want this. I don't want to feel this way...this pain...this agony. Oh, God I killed those people...all those people...," his voice slowly crumbled into a whimper. Was this what Angel had felt? Is this what he had to face? "No...I want to die...I want to fucking die!!" he screamed eyes searching the room he spotted a knife. Diving across the floor he grabbed the blade running it across his skin, screaming at the bite of its jagged teeth into his body. Flesh parted like warm butter, blood welling up, then dripping down his arm. With horrified eyes he watched as the wound healed almost as soon as he finished making it. "..the sun...," he mumbled, diving through the flap. Shaking her head the elderly woman followed him through the flap into the late afternoon light. He was on his knees sobbing as the sun warmed his pale skin for the first time in over a century. "You can not die...," her fingers curled over his pale shoulder. "If I'm not...human...or...vampire what am I?" "You are what the Slayer deserves." His own words came back to haunt him. "What?" he choked out. "Her mate...her partner...her lover." He sat, knees drawn up, staring into the setting sun still waiting for his eyeballs to melt, his body to dissolve into ash. "I'm...nothing," he whispered to the dying light, the darkening waves as they washed up on the shore. "The best of both worlds." William lifted his eyes to see the old woman still standing next to him. His brow furrowed at her words. What was she saying? What had he...his thoughts drifted off. "I'm her other half...her...," "...soulmate." The part of him that was human drifted to the moment when he had fallen in love with the Slayer. He had been so angry at her for turning from him, for pushing his love away. The demon had controlled his anger for so long that he hadn't truly realized what he had ask. What would Buffy say when he returned? Would she finally see the truth? A tiny smile came to him as he thought of what this could be for him. It didn't have to be insanity, he was stronger than that. He could have everything he had ever wanted in his life. Paradise. "Your clothes Master Spike." Standing he took the clothes the old woman gave him dressing, his human soul fascinated by textures and the zippers that stood out silver against ebony leather. Another memory of blood rose from the shadows of his mind sending him searching the pockets of his jacket. Tears slipped down his face as he retrieved a cigarette from the crumpled pack. Lighting the tip he inhaled, letting out a choked gasp. There had to be a balance between the memories, a balance between what had been human and vampire. Two more drags later, he was smiling, eyes following the distant lights of the boats on the ocean. "...Buffy...," he whispered her name with the reverence of a prayer. *show me i'm alive* Honey silk beneath his palms as he cupped her breasts. *what do you want love* The heated warmth of her flesh against his lips. *make me feel again* She had been ashamed of him...of them. To her it had been a sin...a shame. Terrified her friends would find out about their liaison, she had made excuses, to damn many excuses. Now they knew. Soon she would understand that destiny. Standing he brushed the seat of his jeans off, bare toes digging into the cooling sand. With a flick of his finger he watched the bright ember of the butt vanish beneath the water. William had discovered his paradise, his Shangri-La. Now there would be an end to the denials, even if it meant that there would be trouble in paradise. She would know the truth of who he was, of who she was. "I'm coming back doll face." Turning he headed up the beach. THE END?