The Past Does Haunt
by
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sorry that they're not yours anymore, WB, but I don't know who they belong to at the moment. UPN, I guess. And the infamous Joss Whedon.
Summary: A Slayer and a vampire. Blond and brunette. But it isn't who you think.
Rating: PG-13
Blond hair tangles with brown.
Hard muscle meets softer, feminine curves.
Slayer reflexes meet vampire strength.
And panting, soft, wet lips meet cool, firm, experienced vampire tongue. The Slayer slips her own tongue out of her mouth, pushing against the vampire's, forcing it delicately past the demon's cold, slippery lips, and into his mouth. Not the cavern of heat that a human mouth is, but just the same, a haven to the lustful teenager.
A moan escapes the younger creature, and the wise, older vampire smiles against her lips, knowing that this is still a new sensation to one with so little time spent in the world.
Then the young woman traces his lips with her tongue, and he feels his knees grow weak. It may be old magic that he's felt a thousand times, but its power never weakens. "Aaahhh...." The vampire moans softly, and this time, it's the girl who smiles.
Reaching out with his blunt, human teeth, the vampire grasps the Slayer's lower lip, tugging gently. She twists her tongue over his teeth, running it against the hard enamel, then over his gums and upper lip. Still, he doesn't let go, worrying and pulling at the warm piece of skin between his teeth.
The bell chimes, and the vampire reluctantly rises to answer the door. "What?" He asks irritably.
A voice asks him if he knows where the girl is. He glances back, and she smirks mischievously at him, shaking her head silently. He grins, knowing that their time together is not yet over. "No!" He yells to the person outside, then retreats from the door, making sure to lock it behind him. The voice calls for him, but he ignores it.
Moments later, there is the loud thump of someone kicking his door, and several curses. Then the creature retreats.
"So..." The vampire whispers into the girl's ear, as he suckles her earlobe, "Who's on duty today?" She knows he is asking which of the group has been put on baby-sitting patrol, as he and she call it.
The girl arches her back beneath him, quivering a little as he hits a sensitive spot on her neck. "No... no one," She gasps in response.
The vampire moves his head to the other side of her neck, and starts to work on the skin there. The Slayer shivers a little, and he feels a rush of power over her. "Good," He says.
The younger of the two shoves her hands hastily up his shirt at the waistband, and the vampire trembles a little as the touch of her warm hands on his skin set off an ancient reaction in his body. His hands creep up her shirt cautiously, careful not to anger or push the still fairly innocent girl. She stiffens a little in anxiety, but doesn't force him away, and he takes this as a sign to continue.
The person unexpectedly returns to the door. "I want to know the truth! Is she in there?" It yells. The vampire pulls himself off the girl to answer the door this time, pushing her towards the cellar to hide. She goes, smiling at him.
"What do you want?" The vampire answers the door irritably. "I was busy!"
The voice brooks no deterrence. "I want to know if she's here!" It insists.
"No, she's bloody well not here!" The vampire explodes. "If she was, don't you think that she might have heard you ask for her, at the top of your lungs? She's not deaf, you know!"
"No, she's just avoiding us," The man's voice argues. It has an accent, British. That would fit, the vampire thinks. It's the pompous British guy who's out looking for the Slayer. All the rest of them are partying.
The thought annoys the vampire, who is sure he would be having his own party if the annoying man hadn't broken in, for the second time. "No! No, no, no and no! She's not here! If she's hiding, more power to her, but it's not here! Now let me get back what I was doing!" The other man, who appears physically older, looks the vampire over with a suspicious eye, but retreats. The angry vampire slams the door in the man's face.
The Slayer appears behind him once more, and a leering smile crosses his face. She's innocent in these matters, innocent in the feelings that overwhelm her, and even him, with all his experience. He wants desperately to show her that he loves her, more than the world. They may not have been together this way long, but he is crazy about her, and he wants her to know that.
Not the rest of the world, though. They weren't wild about letting him stay alive in the first place, if they thought he'd usurped their one main ally in the fight against his kind, he wouldn't stay undead very much longer.
The child-woman slinks across the room, shy in her innocence, but pushing all the right buttons for the hundred-year-old plus vampire. He smiles at her, not a sexual leer this time, but a reassuring smile, from one lover to another. He's determined not to be her 'partner' in this, but to be her lover.
She's young, and he has hesitated many times, telling himself that it's wrong to rob a child of her purity so young. Not that he believes that women who aren't virgins are anything but pure.
But they've held out this long, and they will not manage it much longer, he knows that. His excuses are running out, or simply failing in the face of his own desire and her pleas. "You're gorgeous, love," He utters softly as she trails across the room towards him, abandoning her sexy slink.
She looks at the floor a little, slightly embarrassed, and the vampire can see the blush color her cheeks. He pulls her head up, and kisses her soundly, making both of their knees weak.
The vampire shows her to the mattress he bought for especially this occasion, wishing he could offer her better. But the Slayer doesn't mind. She welcomes the solidness of his body, the strength in his arms, and the stability of his presence in her world, a world already touched with so much evil, so sad for one so young.
He looks at her human flesh, wishing it was his, too. She goes to the local high school, but he can't pick her up. The sun burns his skin and would turn to ashes his flaked, charred flesh. He wants to offer her something normal, but he can't. The best he can do is be who he is, and she is not ashamed of him. Rather, she keeps him a secret for his own protection.
Their consummation is slow, a painstaking process for both of them. The vampire enjoys it, and does his best to see that the girl does too, though he is not sure he succeeded. But later, both of them agree that the best part was just holding each other, that close, without any barriers between them.
Their last mental and emotional barriers came down years ago, and they are both glad to have the physical ones out of the way, as well.
The vampire kisses his lover's forehead, marveling in the fact that she is his lover now. "You have to go, pet," He tells her reluctantly. The girl groans, and snuggles her naked form closer to his equally bare chest.
"Nooooo...." She mumbles.
He traces her face softly with a fingertip, feeling all the outlines of her gentle features with reverence. She opens her eyes slowly, and accepts his handout of clothing. Lazily, she starts to go through the motions of dressing herself, but she isn't particularly concerned with when she finishes the task. Certain movements seem to cause her pain, and the vampire winces when she does, but she assures him that she's fine, that it will go away soon.
She jokes, telling him that she's glad he doesn't have a curse, a soul to lose, and strangely, it doesn't hurt. He's realized that he can be a good person, or at least vampire, without a soul. It isn't a soul that separates a person from a demon, it's something else, altogether. This vampire puts his money on love. After all, that's what made him have this epiphany, wasn't it?
There's something in the pocket of the young Slayer's shorts, and she pulls it out, glancing at it hastily. It's a birthday card, with a whole bunch of candles wrapped up in it. "Happy 17th!" The card announces. She looks at it, and the vampire sees her face start to crumple.
He goes to her, holding her, understanding that though this is a special night for her, it will always be marred by the memories of a tragic event that occurred on this day, in someone else's life. Someone else's life, which ended too soon. He wanted to make her wait, to tell her that he didn't want the bad mixed with the good, but she told him something else.
"I want the bad mixed with the good. I want to look back on this day, and see something awful, but something miraculous, too. I don't want to only see darkness and despair on this day. It's my turn, and I want to do it right.," She had told him, determinedly. He had laughed, but taken it quite seriously, and done his best to make it that happy memory for her.
He holds her now, knowing that she has to let it out, has to deal with the bad before the good can be acknowledged. It's always that way, though he doesn't know why, doesn't pretend to.
Smiling through her tears, the young Slayer wipes her face, slowly, just gathering up one tear at a time. She licks it from her finger, tasting the saltiness, a taste altogether not entirely bad and not entirely good. That's what this day could be like, but she vows that it won't be. She wants it to be more good than bad, or to at least keep the two separate.
She pulls herself reluctantly from the vampire's arms, and kisses him softly. She waves to him from his door, walking brazenly into the sunlight, never thinking about those who couldn't do as she just had. Oh, she's thought about it, she just doesn't now, her brain much too preoccupied with so many other things, that it doesn't cross her mind.
The vampire waits until the door is closed and the deadly beam of sunlight no longer flames across his home, before bending down and picking up the birthday card that she dropped on the way out. He isn't sure whether it was accidental or not, but he does know that she doesn't want to see it again.
He can't bring himself to throw it in the trash, though. So, he takes it, and goes downstairs, to the basement, where he used to keep a shrine to a previous crush, the woman who had taught him that love is more important than a soul. The photos are still there, a reminder to her glorious beauty and strength, but what the younger Slayer doesn't realize, is that there's one for her down here, too.
It's hidden, in locked drawers beneath the photos and letters and trinkets and other miscellaneous junk that he keeps down here, but it's there. All the things the current Slayer doesn't need to know he collects, he thinks. Tufts of her long hair. Handfuls of photos, copies of report cards. A locket, and a ring that she'd given him.
Now, he adds the card, stacking it neatly on top of the ones for her 15th and 16th birthdays.
He smiles at the recollection of her sweet sixteen party. It was quite a sight, the vampire recalls. Streamers and balloons and candy and sandwiches and cookies and brownies and loud music and liberal amounts of liquor that various scum from Sunnydale High had been thoughtful enough to supply. It had been a day to celebrate, and even the young Slayer had looked happy enough, despite the connotations that birthdays had for her.
He smoothes one hand over the tuft of hair, a deep brown, tied together by several strands of its own, and the other, he places on top of the card pile. Someday, he will show these to her, and she will smile, and thank him for keeping them, he'd sure. But not today, and not anytime soon.
He looks at the wall, wishing that he had windows. But there wouldn't be any point, he couldn't look out them, anyway. He envies the Slayer, on her way to school, standing on the campus, in class, soaking up the sunlight, and, as is becoming common for him, he wishes he was human.
He knows that it's time to leave the Slayer shrine. Perhaps the others have some use for him, some book for him to read, some boring assignment that needs completing before sunset. Life is rarely interesting when his lover is away, as the rest of them treat him as though he is a muzzled dog. Not dangerous enough to be afraid of, or get rid of, but annoying and bothersome, nonetheless.
He thanks the Lord that he doesn't even believe in for the presence of his girl in his life. He thanks him every day, though, being a vampire, he hasn't been willingly near a cross or holy water or a church in over a hundred years.
He thinks of his lover, and sees the brilliant smile that lights up her face when she's happy. He sees the childish way in which she still acts sometimes, and the fact that it embarrasses her to be seen acting that way in front of him, while he thinks it's rather cute. And, though he doesn't know how, he's glad he makes her happy.
Placing the card down, and closing the drawers, the vampire pauses while reaching for the key to the lock. Staring in the direction the Slayer had taken, he prays for her safety while he can't be by her side, and then adds an additional note to today's hopes.
"Have a happy birthday, Dawn."
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Author's Note: For all of you who are as confused as I would be, if it hadn't been me to write the story, there's another part coming, to explain.