Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters do not belong to me. This story does.
A/N: Alright, so this is just a short little something so I could try my hand at Buffy fanfiction. It started as just a Spike-thinking-about-Buffy story and evolved into a Spike-singing-about-Buffy story. It takes place after the close of Once More, With Feeling. And it's really short...But I hope you like it, and if you do please drop a review! (Oh God, that ryhmed...) Enjoy!
The coolness of Spike's sarcophagus seeped through the stone, through his shirt and settled under his already-icy skin. He stared directly above himself, following the cracks in the ceiling as if they'd lead him somewhere else. Somewhere better. Back in time, maybe.
His lips were still tingling, her taste still lingering lightly on them. The memory of that moment was permanently tattooed on his brain. If he tried hard enough, he could still feel the weight of her in his arms, the warmth that fell off her skin. He closed his eyes, trying to bring back all those little sensations that had knitted together to create that moment.
God, if there hadn't been that blasted singing in the background it would have been perfect.
"I died so many years ago," he whispered, his eyes slowly opening and refocusing on his surroundings. He breathed in, something that, by the mere definition of death, he no longer had to do. But he did anyway, from time to time, just to remind himself what it felt like.
"I died so many years ago." The lyrics rolled smoothly off his tongue. Spike shook his head, willing the impending song away. He was quiet for a few moments, afraid to speak even just to himself in case he burst into yet another tra-la-la of meaningless notes. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be able to fight it. He surrendered when the lyrics started to crash against his teeth, begging to be let out.
"But you made me feel like it isn't so…"
Spike rolled onto his side, slipping one arm under his head to he didn't have the harsh stone rubbing against his cheek.
"Will you finally be with me? Or will I be alone?"
He gingerly touched his lips, as if he could manage to pull her taste off of them. He stared at his fingers, then gently rubbed them against his thumb as though he were cleaning away her memory.
"What happens now? What will fate allow?"
Spike turned onto his back again, spreading his arms out and closing his eyes. He felt the lyrics ready to slip off his tongue and had no control over whether or not they got out. He almost rolled his eyes but decided to just let the song take its course, see where it took him this time. What was the harm? At least no one was around to hear him this time.
"Will you let me hold you again, or will you just bring the end? And do you lie awake with questions racing through your head?"
He pushed himself up onto his elbows while the music, wherever the hell it was coming from, continued to swell inside him.
"Will I have your love, or will you stay away…Oh, please don't stay away…"
Spike jolted upright like a shock had shot through him. He leaned forward, crossing his legs Indian-style and resting his elbow on his knees and his head in his hands.
"I won't rest in peace, and I won't get sleep," he sang softly. "So won't you take my love, it's meant for you, don't ever let it go…I won't rest in peace, 'cause I love you so…"
Spike sank back, feeling the stone chill his spine once more. He curled onto his side, wrapping his arms around himself in a sad attempt at holding his emotions inside. His body shook as the music started to drift away from him and through the walls of the crypt.
Unknown to the vampire, outside of his crypt that gentle tune met the ears of a young Slayer. Buffy was crouched beside the door, leaning slightly towards the crack in the stone. She'd come quite a while ago, equipped with the beginnings of an explanation on why the kiss didn't mean another, or at least shouldn't mean anything, to either of them and how, if he wanted to, they could just forget the whole thing ever happened. But now, after hearing his last ballad, she was left with her heart pounding in her hears, her voice stuck in her throat, and her explanation lost in the wind. She waited there, listening hard, curious if Spike might say or, perhaps, sing anything else.
After ten minutes of nothing but silence, Buffy slowly rose to her feet. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed deeply. After another moment of hearing nothing but the buzzing in her ears she turned to go home, her eyes focused on the ground under her feet. She walked briskly, hoping to get to the house and in her bed as quickly as she could. She had a lot of thinking to do that night.
So, as Spike lay awake in the cemetery and Buffy walked the sidewalks to her home, somewhere far off in the distance Sweet had watched all that had transpired. He smiled to himself, rubbing his hands together in that scheming kind of way, and let a light chuckle fall from his lips.