The Poets are Silent-
The Poets are Silent- part 9 of "All that Heaven Allows
Series"
by: Isabelle
-Disclaimer: All of the main
characters are owned by Josh Weddon and the WB. Excerpt from The
Fire Next Time by James Baldwin. Lyrics Un-break My
Heart by Toni Braxton. Reference to the Prince by
Machiavelli.
-Rated: PG (Adult Content)
-Summary: Ninth part of a Spike
and Buffy series. S/B related. Spike and Buffy are taken by a
rich underground demon-group with the purpose of being sold in an
auction for millions. The plot thickens as they grow closer to
each other and try to find a way back home. This story is set
right after Season 4, so Season 5 hasn't happened, and won't
happen.
-Part 9/10.
-Author's Note: Please send
feedback! Tell me what you think. My email is bih80@yahoo.com
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"Most people guard and keep;
they suppose that it is they themselves and what they identify
with themselves that they are guarding and keeping, whereas what
they are actually guarding and keeping is their system of reality
and what they assume themselves to be.
One can give nothing whatever
without giving oneself--that is to say, risking oneself. If one
cannot risk oneself, then one is simply incapable of giving. And,
after all, one can give freedom only by setting someone
free."
from The Fire Next Time
by James Baldwin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Don't leave me in all this
pain
Don't leave me out in the rain
Come back and bring back my
smile
Come and take these tears away
I need your arms to hold me
now
The nights are so unkind
Bring back those nights when I
held you beside me
(Sunnydale, CA)
She stood by the large window
staring vacantly at the summer day. Her eyes were sunken and
shallow, too many nights spent crying, too many days spent
brooding. Lamentation was her middle name. Her small frame looked
fragile in the morning light, too many skipped meals, too many
visits to the toilet bowl.
She tried to eat at times, when
she could finally feel herself gaining strength, she would eat,
heartfully. But then a miniscule speck of a memory, the tiniest
fraction of a sentiment and her upchuck reflex would come without
warning, leaving her exhausted and weak.
Weak. That's what she hated most
of all. The weakness in her limbs, the weakness in her character.
She needed to be strong, in control, ahead.
But no matter how hard she tried,
how much she tried to push it to the hidden empty chambers of her
mind, their faces where still there. Haunting her, accompanying
her.
One deep, dark and sorrowful.
Reminded her of sad days she had spent crying, getting lost in
his embrace. She had loved the way he brooded, loved the way he
hurt, loved the way he gave her small smiles when no one else was
looking. She had loved his silence, so peaceful compared to the
rest of her life. It was not pushing. More like overprotective,
and even though she hated it, right now she would give anything
to feel the annoyment of his overprotection.
The other face that came to her
was that of many expressions. It was wild and strong, so full of
life and humor. Bright in its malignancy. So intriguing it left
her breathless. It reminded her of the what if's. So many what
if's. Her life could have been a roller coaster of wild passion,
dark humor, intesity and foolishness. Such sweet combination that
it melted in her lips. True surrender of one's view and true
acceptance of another's.
Tears came again to her eyes.
It was because of her.
Because of her they were mere
faces in her memories of times past and not solid masses that
plague the earth. The smiles were gone, the brooding was gone.
They were gone.
She was still here.
They had left her.
And she was here....alone.
She raised her pale bony hand to
wipe the fallen tears from her hollow cheeks, and walked away
from a fictitious sunny happy day into the darkeness that filled
her room. Slipping into the covers she wrapped them around her
and braced herself for another night of what dreams might come.
Un-break my heart
Say you'll love me again
Undo this hurt you caused
When you walked out the door
And walked out of my life
Un-cry these tears
I cried so many nights
Un-break my heart
My heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
(London, England- In the Meantime)
The hot tea settled easy on his
burning throat. Damm Egyptian Desert. He thought.
The white sauser blended with
paleness of his hand that held the china with dear life.
They had told him to be nervous,
they had told him to be careful. But he wasn't. The vampire had
died in the tragedy and they said the slayer was suffering from
post-traumatic stress.
He smiled.
Not bad. Not exactly his
intentions but the tables had turned to his liking. If she
continued in this behavior they would replace her and let her go
because of "psychological complication."
He settled by the fire. It was a
cold day outside and the large townhouse was quiet. Quieter than
normal. That's because he had given his servants the day off. Good
night to relax.
He could hear the light London
rain rasping slightly against his window. Sweet night.
He thought as he reached to the coffee table next to him and
pulled out the book he was currently reading.
"The Prince" it read. Machiavelli
was a genius. He thought.
"...he ought not to quit good
courses if he can help it, but should know how to follow evil
courses if he must." he read out loud.
He smiled. Genius.
//KNOCK//KNOCK//
The man frowned. Just when you
think the night can get better, one is disturbed! He thought
insignificantly as he placed down the book and the tea, walking
to open the door.
He shivered as the coldness in the
hall chilled his bones.
Opening the door he paused and
looked at his visitor.
A young man about twenty five
stood before him. Pale skin, lean, not very tall but descent
hight, strong jaw and hollow cheekbones with piercing blue eyes
hidden behind small gold-framed galsses, and wavy trimmed ash
brown-blonde hair. He was dressed in light khakis and a dark
brown mohair turtle neck topped with a knee lenght brown leather
coat.
The young man smiled.
He seemed decent. Though oddly
familiar.
"How can I help you?"
The young man continued smiling.
"Good evenin', mate. The name's William Winthrop." he
paused. "I'm looking for a Quentin Travers, some say I could
find him 'ere."
William Winthrop, were the
hell have I heard of that name before? The man thought.
"What do you want with
him?" the man asked.
"Are you 'im?" William
asked raising his dark eyebrow.
The man thought for a second.
"If you tell me what you want, I can get him for you. He's a
very busy man."
William smirked and gave him a
cocky grin. "Got some information." he said taking out
a cigarette and lighting it.
"About what?"
"Something 'bout an Auction
and a Slayer." William said slowly blowing the smoke in the
man's face.
The man's heart raced, only a
select few knew what happen in Egypt.
"Come on in,......Mr.
Winthrop." the man said, opening his door and letting
William in.
William smiled and threw out his
cigarrette. "We'll thank you for the invitation."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Sunnydale, CA)
//RING//RING//
"Anya, can you get
that?" Giles asked from the trainning room were he was
talking to Buffy. This was her first day back in schedule since
the entire Auction dilema.
Giles could see she was trying
hard to go back as if nothing happened, but the shadow that
covered her was that of grief and agony.
"GILES!!"
Giles frowned. "The girl has
no manners." he muttered to Buffy who grinned.
"Yes, Anya." he said
loudly.
"It's for you! Something
about a council." she screamed.
Buffy frowned, they had thought it
possible that the council had been involved in the kidnaping and
the Auction but they had no serious evidence and jumping to
conclusion might lead to more trouble.
Giles walked to the front of the
shop and Buffy trailed behind him. Anya was busy selling chicken
legs to a reluctant woman and simply pointed to the receiver that
was resting on top of the counter.
Giles sighted.
"Hello?" he said.
"Yes, he's speaking. Who's this?..........Oh, to what do I
owe this honor, Ferguson?" he asked dryly.
Pause.
"What?!" he cried.
The customers in the shop
pretended not to hear the colorful conversation. Buffy saw the
concern in his eyes and walked to stand in front of her watcher.
"Are you certain?........Oh,
my!......Well this was certaintly unnexpected..........they
what........well.......I must say......Yes it has.....Well thank
you for letting me know......right them.....goodbye." He
hung up and by that time all the Scoobies that were inside the
store were looking at him expectantly to share the news.
"What is it, Giles?"
Buffy asked with her hands on her hips, slayer style.
Giles removed his glasses and
rubbed his eyes, like he did when he was nervous.
"That was the Council,"
he stated.
"G-man, c'mon, you're killing
us!" Xander cried.
"Apparently, the body of
Quentin Travers was found this morning in his London home."
he said and took a deep breath. "His neck was
snapped...." he said slowly.
There was utter silence.
"That's, that's
terrible." WIllow said from behind Buffy.
"Do they know who did it? I
mean was it forced entry?" Buffy inquired.
"Apparently, no,......nothing
is missing." Giles said replaicing his galsses. "But
they found a note with a message on it."
"And the note said...."
Xander pried.
"Ferguson says the note
simple stated 'More than Heaven Allows'" He said looking at
the youngsters.
There was silence.
//THUMP//
They were all startled by the
sudden noise of Buffy's fainted body hitting the floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(London Airport, England)
The two men stood facing each
other before their separate departures.
The tall dark haired one looked at
the shorter, platinum blonde one.
"Take care of yourself."
Angel said.
Spike smirked and nodded.
"Where you off to,
peaches?" Spike asked.
"Just going home to L.A., you
know fight crime, save the day on my Angelmobile, things like
that." Angel said looking at his childe.
"Tell queenie I say hi."
he stated.
Angel gave him his rare grin.
"I'll make sure of that." he paused. "How about
you? What are your plans?"
Spike looked around and reached
for his cigarette, lighting it and looking back at Angel.
"Brazil." he said.
"Brazil?" Angel asked.
"Yeah, got some short
business to take care of there." he said. "And money to
do it." Thinking of the seven figure 'donation' the prince
had given him.
"How about when you're
done?" Angel asked.
Spike smiled and looked at his
sire. "When I'm done,....I'm gonna go home."
Angel smiled.
"You take care of her."
he said. "Anything happends to her and you know I'll kill
you."
"I know." Spike said.
Silence.
"It was nice." Angel
finally said.
"Just like the good ol'
days." Spike said with a glassy look in his eyes.
They stood in awkward silence then
from no where Sire grabbed Childe in a fatherly embrace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Los Angeles, CA)
She walked out of the bathroom in
her fluffly white robe, towel-drying her hair.
"Dennis, have you seen my new
gel? You know the one with advanced vitamin E." Cordilia
cried to the thin air.
Magically a blue bottle floated
through the air and stopped in fornt of her. She smiled.
"What would I do with out you?"
And a light breeze blew through
her.
//KNOCK//KNOCK//
She frowned and walked to the
door. God, I hope is not the cute neighbor.
Opening the door, she started
looking at the floor, black heavy shoes, black pants, black
cashmere sweater, Nice. she thought. Black leather coat,
pale hands, broody shoulders.
She paused and looked at the face
with the RickyMartin hair.
He smiled.
"Miss me?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Outskirts of Rio de Janairo,
Brazil)
The pale beauty stood on her
balcony staring in wonder at the star filled night. She lifted
her slender arms to the sky and closed her eyes, breathing in the
unessesary air that spoke to her in whispers and songs.
The gods themselves talked to her,
and behing her large green eyes, was her evaporated mind that saw
more than a creature of the night should.
She smiled lazily still with her
eyes closed and face turned to the sky.
"Fairies told me you'd come
back, my pet." She said.
He steped from behind the shadows
to acknowledge his opresense. He just wanted to look at her. He
loved her when she was like that. It was like watching a dream, a
dream filled with illusions of the sane woman that once was her.
"Did they, luv?" he
asked looking at her long black hair.
"Yes, and they also told me
you're sick." she turned to look at him. She was so
beautiful sometimes it took his breath away. So beautiful and so
dangerous. "Are you sick, my Spike?"
"Yes, pet. Spike is very
sick." He said caressing her cheek.
She leaned into his now warm hand
and frowned. "Do you want mommy to make it all better?"
She whispered.
He looked into her insane eyes and
he felt his heart crumbling once more from the knowledge of his
duty.
"No........you want to stay
sick and die." she said pulling her bony face from his pale
hand.
"Dru...."
She shook her head in denial. He
felt the fumes of anger building up inside of her. "The
nasty Slayer.....she's killed my Spike." she hollowed and
crumbled to her knees.
He watched as she cried on a heap
on the balcony floor. His godess, his princess, the creature that
made him the man he was now. Those enchanting eyes and that frail
body. The woman he had adored for over one hundred years. Now
weaping because he knew he had left her more alone than she ever
did to him. He was no longer like her nor did he want to be. She
also knew he now loved another.
The slayer. The creature he had
hunted for thousands of days and night, now he would kill if any
harm came to her.
"I am sorry, Dru." he
whispered as her body shook in agony. Slowly he brought the
murdering piece of wood to the center of her small body back and
pushed it through.
She knew what was coming, she
didn't prevent it.
When her ashes were adornments on
his shoes he shed a tear. One tears for all the nights hunting,
all the nights loving, all his wild adventures.
But he knew that if she lived she
would go after him and his soon to be family. He had to prevent
it, he couldn't let it happen. He knew his ex-love and what she
was capable of.
So he shed a tear, a tear for all
the nights with her, a tear for all the nights to come.
The wind blew her ashes about,
sending them flying to mix and mingle with the stars in the sky.
Like feries in the night they whispered her goodbyes.
The warrior turned his back on the
remains of his old life and walked out into the night.
The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright
world dies
With the dying sun
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of the whole
world dies
When love is done.
Bourdillon form Light
TBC...............................
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