Alorna floated through the night sky, savoring the quiet. It would be
shattered soon enough, she knew. It always was. The moon was full, fat
and yellow. A hunter's moon, a lover's moon, or anyone else who may wish
for the night to be a little less dark.
In life Alorna had been a matchmaker in the Old Country. Many young people, then their children and their children's children turned to Alorna with shining hope that she may find the missing piece to themselves, the perfect partner to complete their lives. She always did. So successful had she been that after her death, she had been returned to earth as a spirit to continue her mission of love. It was a task that she treasured, for nothing filled her soul with joy as much as the triumph of love. Many referred to her as the Spirit of Lonely Hearts. A silly name, Alorna thought with a smile. Silly perhaps, but she bore the name with pride.
Alorna felt the couple before she heard them, drawn to them as she always was, by the need in their hearts. Floating gently forward, she landed lightly on the grass. A cemetery, she noted, on the night of a full moon. A strange place for lovers to meet, yet I have seen stranger, she thought with a chuckle. Invisible to all unless she wished otherwise, Alorna moved closer without fear of detection. She could hear the couple's words at last, angry and hurtful, full of rage and pain. But below the surface she sensed the deep love and desire that fueled it, as well as the fear that kept it hidden. There are many enemies to face on the path to true love, none worse than fear.
"This will not do," she decided firmly. "This will not do at all." Alorna, silent and unseen, waited patiently, listening to their words, looking for the best way to help them.
"Spike, why don't you leave me alone!"
"Because, Slayer, you won't let me!" Spike was nearly vibrating with frustration, and more than a little desperation that disgusted him, which only fueled his anger. "I'd become resigned to the fact that I could never be more than a friend to you. I was even beginning to convince myself that it would be enough. But then we kissed. Twice. And each time you came to me. You came to me, Slayer, don't deny it. You put the bloody hope back into my undead heart. Then you walk away and dare to pretend there's nothing between us!"
"Get this the first time, Spike. There is nothing between us. Not now, not ever." Buffy hated the shrillness of her words and the taste of the venom on her tongue, but not as much as she hated the growing need inside of her to be held and loved by Spike. She hated the lies she told him, and herself. She hated herself for the pain she saw on his face when she told him those lies. But mostly she hated the fear that choked her and clawed at her insides. The fear of loving another vampire. The fear losing another vampire.
"Well, why the hell not? Why won't you let me love you?"
"You're a vampire." The excuse was old and tired and they both knew it. Spike spun away, his coat flapping angrily. He stomped away a few feet then came back.
"I am so bloody tired of hearing that same bloody excuse and saying the same bloody thing. Angel is a vampire."
"Angel's different."
"Buffy, I'm different, too! Haven't you noticed? God, I've done everything I know how to do to prove myself to you. I don't know why I bother, because nothing's ever good enough for you. All that's left is for me to lie down and die for you. Is that what you want, Slayer?"
"Yeah, Spike, why don't you die!"
The moment Alorna had been waiting for had arrived. She knew the young woman hadn't meant her hateful, hurtful words. Now it was time for Buffy to know it, too.
Alorna opened her hand and whispered three words into her palm, "As you wish", and blew them gently into the night air.
Buffy knew the moment the words had left her mouth that she had gone too far. She didn't need the raw pain and anguish in his eyes to tell her that. But before she could say another word, Spike stiffened as if in shock. Then he exploded into dust before her eyes.
A horrible scream pierced the night, echoing across the cemetery like a lost soul in torment. Anyone who heard the cry never forgot it. The sound was pure despair and its touch caused the listener to shiver in their warm bed or huddle a little deeper into their coat.
"Nooo, Spike! Oh, God, don't do this to me. Spike!" Buffy sifted the ashes through her fingers again and again, trying to convince herself she couldn't feel them in her hands, trying to convince herself she didn't smell the pungent scent of death. She continued to sift the ashes, as if searching, hoping to find him whole and intact in their midst. "Spike, oh God, Spike."
It took a moment for it to pierce Buffy's grief that she was no longer alone in the cemetery. She raised defeated, tear-reddened eyes to face whatever demon or vampire had come for her. But she only saw an elderly woman wearing what appeared to be a flowing white gown, smiling at her kindly. Her hair was white and she wore it long and loose. Her eyes, strangely young and beautiful in her wizened face, were an unusual shade of blue and seemed to glow with a light from within.
"Why do you weep, child? You made a wish and it was granted. So why do you weep?"
"W-wish?"
"You must have hated him very much to wish such a horrible fate on him."
"No! No, I didn't mean it." Buffy looked at the tear-soaked mud that used to be Spike's ashes. "Spike, I didn't mean it."
"That is most curious. Words have such power, you know. The power to soothe. The power to kill. Your words had the power to give you what you wanted. Never to see his face again. Never to hear his voice. Never to feel his touch. That is what you wanted, is it not?"
Fresh sobs tore through Buffy, shaking her body, shaking her soul, with the strength of them. "There, there child, more tears? Why are you breaking your heart over a being you detested mere moments ago?"
Suddenly, Buffy saw it, like a golden gift shining in the sunlight. A second chance. How she answered the strange woman's question would determine the course of her life forever. Buffy didn't know how she knew this. She just knew. The right answer promised happiness. The wrong answer promised the blackest despair. Buffy looked up into Alorna's face and saw more kindness and serenity than she had ever seen on a human face before. Compassion radiated from her, enveloping Buffy in its warmth, whispering secrets to her soul. "Now is not the time for pride", it seemed to say. "Now is not the time for fear. Now is the time for truth."
"I don't want him to die."
"Why?"
"Because." Buffy paused, hardly daring to breathe, hardly daring to hope, praying that this time her words had the power to save them both. "Because I love him."
Alorna smiled with pure satisfaction and her blue eyes glowed intensely. "As you wish." And she was gone.
No sooner had this fact registered in Buffy's brain that a cool hand touches her shoulder. With a painful gasp, Buffy whirls around to find Spike sitting behind her, looking dazed but whole. Buffy threw herself into Spike's arms, sobbing this time in relief and joy. The shock of what had happened to him, coupled with the shock of Buffy's welcome was too much for Spike. He toppled over into the grass.
"Spike! Spike! Oh, please don't be dead."
"I'm not dead. I'm.. I'm not sure what I am, but I'm not dead."
Buffy kissed his forehead as she stroked his hair. "I'm sorry, Spike, I'm so sorry."
Spike looked into Buffy's face, red and puffy from crying and his heart twisted. He didn't know exactly what had happened to him, but Buffy had obviously been through some kind of hell. He gently began wiping Buffy's tears. "Sorry for what, luv?"
"Spike, don't leave me."
Shock stilled his fingers for the barest second, then Spike cupped Buffy's face in his hands. He kissed first one eye then the other, then kissed her lips tenderly, the tenderest kiss Buffy could ever remember receiving. "I'm not going to leave you, luv."
"But you just did."
"Well, I'm back now and I don't intend to leave again."
Buffy laid her head on Spike's chest and held him tightly. "Everyone leaves. First Dad, then Angel. Riley, Mom, Giles. Everyone leaves. I know now that I couldn't bear it if you leave, too," she finished with a whisper.
For the first time, Spike understood the depth of Buffy's fear, why she kept pushing him away. She wasn't afraid of him, or even afraid of loving him. She was afraid of loving and losing him.
"Buffy, look at me." Buffy was startled by the intensity in Spike's eyes. He stroked her face gently, willing her to believe him. "Here I am and here I stay. I love you, Buffy."
"I love you, Spike."
A rare joy, one he'd never expected to find, swelled in his breast. He didn't know what kind of miracle had occurred to allow him to hear those words spoken by her lips, but he was not a vampire to question fate. Kissing, touching, laughing, crying, they each embraced the love they both thought lost.
A short distance above them, Alorna basked in a job well done as she watched Spike carry Buffy into what seemed to be a crypt. Floating higher and still higher, Alorna opened her arms to embrace the night sky. Life would not be easy for them. This Alorna knew. The Fates were rarely kind to the strong, seeming to find delight in seeing how much they could bare. But Buffy and Spike's love was deep and eternal and would see them through it all together. This Alorna also knew.
In life Alorna had been a matchmaker in the Old Country. Many young people, then their children and their children's children turned to Alorna with shining hope that she may find the missing piece to themselves, the perfect partner to complete their lives. She always did. So successful had she been that after her death, she had been returned to earth as a spirit to continue her mission of love. It was a task that she treasured, for nothing filled her soul with joy as much as the triumph of love. Many referred to her as the Spirit of Lonely Hearts. A silly name, Alorna thought with a smile. Silly perhaps, but she bore the name with pride.
Alorna felt the couple before she heard them, drawn to them as she always was, by the need in their hearts. Floating gently forward, she landed lightly on the grass. A cemetery, she noted, on the night of a full moon. A strange place for lovers to meet, yet I have seen stranger, she thought with a chuckle. Invisible to all unless she wished otherwise, Alorna moved closer without fear of detection. She could hear the couple's words at last, angry and hurtful, full of rage and pain. But below the surface she sensed the deep love and desire that fueled it, as well as the fear that kept it hidden. There are many enemies to face on the path to true love, none worse than fear.
"This will not do," she decided firmly. "This will not do at all." Alorna, silent and unseen, waited patiently, listening to their words, looking for the best way to help them.
"Spike, why don't you leave me alone!"
"Because, Slayer, you won't let me!" Spike was nearly vibrating with frustration, and more than a little desperation that disgusted him, which only fueled his anger. "I'd become resigned to the fact that I could never be more than a friend to you. I was even beginning to convince myself that it would be enough. But then we kissed. Twice. And each time you came to me. You came to me, Slayer, don't deny it. You put the bloody hope back into my undead heart. Then you walk away and dare to pretend there's nothing between us!"
"Get this the first time, Spike. There is nothing between us. Not now, not ever." Buffy hated the shrillness of her words and the taste of the venom on her tongue, but not as much as she hated the growing need inside of her to be held and loved by Spike. She hated the lies she told him, and herself. She hated herself for the pain she saw on his face when she told him those lies. But mostly she hated the fear that choked her and clawed at her insides. The fear of loving another vampire. The fear losing another vampire.
"Well, why the hell not? Why won't you let me love you?"
"You're a vampire." The excuse was old and tired and they both knew it. Spike spun away, his coat flapping angrily. He stomped away a few feet then came back.
"I am so bloody tired of hearing that same bloody excuse and saying the same bloody thing. Angel is a vampire."
"Angel's different."
"Buffy, I'm different, too! Haven't you noticed? God, I've done everything I know how to do to prove myself to you. I don't know why I bother, because nothing's ever good enough for you. All that's left is for me to lie down and die for you. Is that what you want, Slayer?"
"Yeah, Spike, why don't you die!"
The moment Alorna had been waiting for had arrived. She knew the young woman hadn't meant her hateful, hurtful words. Now it was time for Buffy to know it, too.
Alorna opened her hand and whispered three words into her palm, "As you wish", and blew them gently into the night air.
Buffy knew the moment the words had left her mouth that she had gone too far. She didn't need the raw pain and anguish in his eyes to tell her that. But before she could say another word, Spike stiffened as if in shock. Then he exploded into dust before her eyes.
A horrible scream pierced the night, echoing across the cemetery like a lost soul in torment. Anyone who heard the cry never forgot it. The sound was pure despair and its touch caused the listener to shiver in their warm bed or huddle a little deeper into their coat.
"Nooo, Spike! Oh, God, don't do this to me. Spike!" Buffy sifted the ashes through her fingers again and again, trying to convince herself she couldn't feel them in her hands, trying to convince herself she didn't smell the pungent scent of death. She continued to sift the ashes, as if searching, hoping to find him whole and intact in their midst. "Spike, oh God, Spike."
It took a moment for it to pierce Buffy's grief that she was no longer alone in the cemetery. She raised defeated, tear-reddened eyes to face whatever demon or vampire had come for her. But she only saw an elderly woman wearing what appeared to be a flowing white gown, smiling at her kindly. Her hair was white and she wore it long and loose. Her eyes, strangely young and beautiful in her wizened face, were an unusual shade of blue and seemed to glow with a light from within.
"Why do you weep, child? You made a wish and it was granted. So why do you weep?"
"W-wish?"
"You must have hated him very much to wish such a horrible fate on him."
"No! No, I didn't mean it." Buffy looked at the tear-soaked mud that used to be Spike's ashes. "Spike, I didn't mean it."
"That is most curious. Words have such power, you know. The power to soothe. The power to kill. Your words had the power to give you what you wanted. Never to see his face again. Never to hear his voice. Never to feel his touch. That is what you wanted, is it not?"
Fresh sobs tore through Buffy, shaking her body, shaking her soul, with the strength of them. "There, there child, more tears? Why are you breaking your heart over a being you detested mere moments ago?"
Suddenly, Buffy saw it, like a golden gift shining in the sunlight. A second chance. How she answered the strange woman's question would determine the course of her life forever. Buffy didn't know how she knew this. She just knew. The right answer promised happiness. The wrong answer promised the blackest despair. Buffy looked up into Alorna's face and saw more kindness and serenity than she had ever seen on a human face before. Compassion radiated from her, enveloping Buffy in its warmth, whispering secrets to her soul. "Now is not the time for pride", it seemed to say. "Now is not the time for fear. Now is the time for truth."
"I don't want him to die."
"Why?"
"Because." Buffy paused, hardly daring to breathe, hardly daring to hope, praying that this time her words had the power to save them both. "Because I love him."
Alorna smiled with pure satisfaction and her blue eyes glowed intensely. "As you wish." And she was gone.
No sooner had this fact registered in Buffy's brain that a cool hand touches her shoulder. With a painful gasp, Buffy whirls around to find Spike sitting behind her, looking dazed but whole. Buffy threw herself into Spike's arms, sobbing this time in relief and joy. The shock of what had happened to him, coupled with the shock of Buffy's welcome was too much for Spike. He toppled over into the grass.
"Spike! Spike! Oh, please don't be dead."
"I'm not dead. I'm.. I'm not sure what I am, but I'm not dead."
Buffy kissed his forehead as she stroked his hair. "I'm sorry, Spike, I'm so sorry."
Spike looked into Buffy's face, red and puffy from crying and his heart twisted. He didn't know exactly what had happened to him, but Buffy had obviously been through some kind of hell. He gently began wiping Buffy's tears. "Sorry for what, luv?"
"Spike, don't leave me."
Shock stilled his fingers for the barest second, then Spike cupped Buffy's face in his hands. He kissed first one eye then the other, then kissed her lips tenderly, the tenderest kiss Buffy could ever remember receiving. "I'm not going to leave you, luv."
"But you just did."
"Well, I'm back now and I don't intend to leave again."
Buffy laid her head on Spike's chest and held him tightly. "Everyone leaves. First Dad, then Angel. Riley, Mom, Giles. Everyone leaves. I know now that I couldn't bear it if you leave, too," she finished with a whisper.
For the first time, Spike understood the depth of Buffy's fear, why she kept pushing him away. She wasn't afraid of him, or even afraid of loving him. She was afraid of loving and losing him.
"Buffy, look at me." Buffy was startled by the intensity in Spike's eyes. He stroked her face gently, willing her to believe him. "Here I am and here I stay. I love you, Buffy."
"I love you, Spike."
A rare joy, one he'd never expected to find, swelled in his breast. He didn't know what kind of miracle had occurred to allow him to hear those words spoken by her lips, but he was not a vampire to question fate. Kissing, touching, laughing, crying, they each embraced the love they both thought lost.
A short distance above them, Alorna basked in a job well done as she watched Spike carry Buffy into what seemed to be a crypt. Floating higher and still higher, Alorna opened her arms to embrace the night sky. Life would not be easy for them. This Alorna knew. The Fates were rarely kind to the strong, seeming to find delight in seeing how much they could bare. But Buffy and Spike's love was deep and eternal and would see them through it all together. This Alorna also knew.
