TITLE: Happy Ending
AUTHOR: Goddess Isa
EMAIL: goddessisa@aol.com
SUMMARY: Dawn, and Spike, and snow
SPOILER: The Gift, mildly.
RATING: TV-G
DISTRIBUTION: http://planetslaythis.homestead.com, Fanfiction.net under Goddess Isa, anyone else, just send me the URL
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon owns the characters herein. Plech.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I don't know where all of this is coming from. Gimme a Michelle Branch CD and a notebook, and bam...I write!
1/31/01
There is snow everywhere.
I remember seeing snow once before. It was the Christmas that Angel didn't die, the only Christmas that Faith spent with us. I remember she wore the popcorn strings around her belt like a belly chain and danced erratically to 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' playing on the radio. I loved it. Mom had been upstairs, probably pacing and worrying about Buffy like she usually did.
I feel Spike's arms around my shoulder, as he knows what I'm remembering without my even saying it. He knows that every thought, every memory, is attached to Buffy in one way or another. After all, she was my life for the longest time, so long that when she first died, I used to talk to the Buffy Bot as though it were alive, as though it were Buffy. And I knew that it wasn't, and that it couldn't understand, but I had to do it, because I couldn't imagine a life without Buffy in it.
There are nights when I still can't.
I open the door to balcony and walk out, my bare feet disappearing in three or four inches of soft ice that makes my toes numb almost instantly. Spike stays behind in our room, knowing that this isn't the moment to disturb me.
That's what I love so much about Spike. He understands everything without my saying a word.
I take a few steps gingerly to the railing, and run my hands over the blanket of snow that's settled there. It's still soft enough to eat, and I do so, cupping my hands and licking at it like you would a Sno-Cone. I hear Spike snicker at me, but he doesn't come out, not yet.
I sit on the snow, because I need to be closer to it, and to Buffy. I'm freezing now, and I welcome the blanket Spike puts around my shoulders and the slippers he forces onto my feet. He fills an empty water bottle from the night before with the snow, and I know he's thinking that we can add it to the trunk at home. I smile at him, and he kisses my forehead before going back inside.
Slowly, I begin molding the snow into small shapes. I make a stake and a heart and even a halo, which keeps breaking before I can rest it on my head.
Always knowing what I need, Spike appears with a full bottle of water and then disappears again, which I must admit, surprises me. I would think he'd want to enjoy the little daylight he gets to bask in.
The water acts like glue to the snow, and I soon have a halo that's sticking to my hair and giving me a headache. I leave it on, because it brings me closer to them, and what they stood for, and that was my whole reason for wanting to come here.
This is where they would have come.
I read it in Buffy's journals after she died. She and Angel had planned a wedding in secret for months without telling anyone. After Graduation, they were going to sneak away to Vegas and do it with fake IDs. Then they were going to take a train--no windows in the cabins--to Chicago and honeymoon there in the last of the cool spring weather.
When Spike proposed to me, I told him he could have any kind of wedding he wanted, anywhere in the world as long as we honeymooned in Chicago. He kissed me and told me my wish was his command.
So we came here, to the hotel Buffy had picked, in the same month, five years later to the day. This is the first May snowstorm in Chicago history, and it's beautiful.
And it's a gift, I know it.
A gift from them, from Buffy and Angel, to tell us that they're happy. That they don't hate me for marrying my true love.
That they don't hate Spike for deflowering their precious little Dawnie before her eighteenth birthday.
This snow is their blessing.
"Come on in now, pet," Spike says, picking me up bridegroom style. "Your skin is like ice. You'll catch pneumonia, and then you won't be any use to me in that hot tub tonight."
I laugh and curve my body against his as the snow falls from my nightgown onto his feet. He lays me on the bed and closes the balcony door but not the curtains so that I can watch the snow continue to fall on our blessed day.
When Spike returns to me a few minutes later, he's changed into the terry robe supplied by the hotel, and he's holding the other in his hands. He strips off my snow-covered clothing, planting kisses on my body before wrapping me in the robe and carrying me into the bathroom.
Candles are everywhere, and sunflowers are floating in the bathwater.
"Relax now, love," he says, kissing me deeply on the mouth. "I've got something to do, but I'll be back soon."
"You're leaving?" I cried, knowing what a big baby I sounded like. "On our honeymoon?"
"I promise, you'll appreciate it when you see why," he kissed me again, and then he was gone.
"And to think I thought he was getting in here with me," I muttered, stripping off the robe and settling into the hot water.
It felt like silk against my cold skin, and I soaked until the water was cold and my skin pruny. I climbed out and blew out all the candles before changing into the nightgown Willow gave me with the tiny red hearts all over it. Tying the matching robe around my waist, I walked into the bedroom, hoping to find Spike back, raiding the snack fridgerator.
Unfortunately, the room was empty, so I settled on the lounger with the remote to watch a movie on Lifetime. I couldn't hear it very well though, because someone kept throwing snow at the balcony window.
Frustrated, I finally threw the doors open and went outside to yell at the obnoxious kids interrupting my afternoon.
And my heart melted. Down on the ground, Spike had build a huge arch in the snow. Beneath it, in huge letters, he'd written I Love You, Dawn. I would've jumped down there to hug him if I could've.
I met him at the elevator, not caring about my bare feet or the sheer fabric of my nightgown. I kissed him with the same passion we'd had the night he took my virginity. He carried me to bed and made love to me until we fell asleep from exhaustion.
I dreamed that I was getting married in a large Catholic Church with angels all over the windows. Mom was there, sitting in the first row in a pale blue suit and a big smile across her lips. Buffy was at the alter, my maid of honor, and Angel was beside Spike as his best man.
When I got to the alter, Buffy leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Congratulations, Dawnie. You got a happy ending, after all."
AUTHOR: Goddess Isa
EMAIL: goddessisa@aol.com
SUMMARY: Dawn, and Spike, and snow
SPOILER: The Gift, mildly.
RATING: TV-G
DISTRIBUTION: http://planetslaythis.homestead.com, Fanfiction.net under Goddess Isa, anyone else, just send me the URL
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon owns the characters herein. Plech.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I don't know where all of this is coming from. Gimme a Michelle Branch CD and a notebook, and bam...I write!
1/31/01
There is snow everywhere.
I remember seeing snow once before. It was the Christmas that Angel didn't die, the only Christmas that Faith spent with us. I remember she wore the popcorn strings around her belt like a belly chain and danced erratically to 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' playing on the radio. I loved it. Mom had been upstairs, probably pacing and worrying about Buffy like she usually did.
I feel Spike's arms around my shoulder, as he knows what I'm remembering without my even saying it. He knows that every thought, every memory, is attached to Buffy in one way or another. After all, she was my life for the longest time, so long that when she first died, I used to talk to the Buffy Bot as though it were alive, as though it were Buffy. And I knew that it wasn't, and that it couldn't understand, but I had to do it, because I couldn't imagine a life without Buffy in it.
There are nights when I still can't.
I open the door to balcony and walk out, my bare feet disappearing in three or four inches of soft ice that makes my toes numb almost instantly. Spike stays behind in our room, knowing that this isn't the moment to disturb me.
That's what I love so much about Spike. He understands everything without my saying a word.
I take a few steps gingerly to the railing, and run my hands over the blanket of snow that's settled there. It's still soft enough to eat, and I do so, cupping my hands and licking at it like you would a Sno-Cone. I hear Spike snicker at me, but he doesn't come out, not yet.
I sit on the snow, because I need to be closer to it, and to Buffy. I'm freezing now, and I welcome the blanket Spike puts around my shoulders and the slippers he forces onto my feet. He fills an empty water bottle from the night before with the snow, and I know he's thinking that we can add it to the trunk at home. I smile at him, and he kisses my forehead before going back inside.
Slowly, I begin molding the snow into small shapes. I make a stake and a heart and even a halo, which keeps breaking before I can rest it on my head.
Always knowing what I need, Spike appears with a full bottle of water and then disappears again, which I must admit, surprises me. I would think he'd want to enjoy the little daylight he gets to bask in.
The water acts like glue to the snow, and I soon have a halo that's sticking to my hair and giving me a headache. I leave it on, because it brings me closer to them, and what they stood for, and that was my whole reason for wanting to come here.
This is where they would have come.
I read it in Buffy's journals after she died. She and Angel had planned a wedding in secret for months without telling anyone. After Graduation, they were going to sneak away to Vegas and do it with fake IDs. Then they were going to take a train--no windows in the cabins--to Chicago and honeymoon there in the last of the cool spring weather.
When Spike proposed to me, I told him he could have any kind of wedding he wanted, anywhere in the world as long as we honeymooned in Chicago. He kissed me and told me my wish was his command.
So we came here, to the hotel Buffy had picked, in the same month, five years later to the day. This is the first May snowstorm in Chicago history, and it's beautiful.
And it's a gift, I know it.
A gift from them, from Buffy and Angel, to tell us that they're happy. That they don't hate me for marrying my true love.
That they don't hate Spike for deflowering their precious little Dawnie before her eighteenth birthday.
This snow is their blessing.
"Come on in now, pet," Spike says, picking me up bridegroom style. "Your skin is like ice. You'll catch pneumonia, and then you won't be any use to me in that hot tub tonight."
I laugh and curve my body against his as the snow falls from my nightgown onto his feet. He lays me on the bed and closes the balcony door but not the curtains so that I can watch the snow continue to fall on our blessed day.
When Spike returns to me a few minutes later, he's changed into the terry robe supplied by the hotel, and he's holding the other in his hands. He strips off my snow-covered clothing, planting kisses on my body before wrapping me in the robe and carrying me into the bathroom.
Candles are everywhere, and sunflowers are floating in the bathwater.
"Relax now, love," he says, kissing me deeply on the mouth. "I've got something to do, but I'll be back soon."
"You're leaving?" I cried, knowing what a big baby I sounded like. "On our honeymoon?"
"I promise, you'll appreciate it when you see why," he kissed me again, and then he was gone.
"And to think I thought he was getting in here with me," I muttered, stripping off the robe and settling into the hot water.
It felt like silk against my cold skin, and I soaked until the water was cold and my skin pruny. I climbed out and blew out all the candles before changing into the nightgown Willow gave me with the tiny red hearts all over it. Tying the matching robe around my waist, I walked into the bedroom, hoping to find Spike back, raiding the snack fridgerator.
Unfortunately, the room was empty, so I settled on the lounger with the remote to watch a movie on Lifetime. I couldn't hear it very well though, because someone kept throwing snow at the balcony window.
Frustrated, I finally threw the doors open and went outside to yell at the obnoxious kids interrupting my afternoon.
And my heart melted. Down on the ground, Spike had build a huge arch in the snow. Beneath it, in huge letters, he'd written I Love You, Dawn. I would've jumped down there to hug him if I could've.
I met him at the elevator, not caring about my bare feet or the sheer fabric of my nightgown. I kissed him with the same passion we'd had the night he took my virginity. He carried me to bed and made love to me until we fell asleep from exhaustion.
I dreamed that I was getting married in a large Catholic Church with angels all over the windows. Mom was there, sitting in the first row in a pale blue suit and a big smile across her lips. Buffy was at the alter, my maid of honor, and Angel was beside Spike as his best man.
When I got to the alter, Buffy leaned over to whisper in my ear, "Congratulations, Dawnie. You got a happy ending, after all."
