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.

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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.

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(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."

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(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.

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(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.

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(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?"

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(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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