Gone, But Not Forgotten, by Trisha H.

Post Gone- if you haven't watched Gone, don't read this, it wont make much sense.

Rating- PG-13, I guess. I dunno. I'm bad at figuring out what the rating should be.

This is just a little scene I wrote because I was disappointed that the writers didn't show how the lighter got from the "box of temptation" into Buffy's pocket. I mostly used the dialogue from the show, but changed/added a little for my own purposes.

Disclaimers- all the usual. They're not mine.

Feedback- Please! Dragolyn@hotmail.com







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Buffy took the box into the living room. There had to be more magic- type items somewhere. If she was thorough and carefully tossed out all temptation, Willow would be fine. They'd all be fine. She looked around, sighing. Candles--- no, she'd already gotten rid of those. Idols--- oh yes. "Dawn, do me a favor. Can you grab the fertility god statue on the desk over there?"

Dawn looked to the desk and back at Buffy, her face dark. "Kokopele! No, I love him. And, he was moms."

Buffy glared at her. She *would * pick such a hard time to be a brat. Didn't she understand, this was mostly for her own safety?

Backing down only slightly, Dawn pouted. "Why do we have to get rid of so many things that I like?"

"Dawn, I explained this to you." Buffy knelt on the couch and pulled the pillows off, still searching. "Willow has a problem. Then next few weeks are going to be crazy hard on her as it is. Any reminders of what it is she's trying to stay away from could cause her to give into temptation."

She dug her hands around the far side of the couch cushion, prodding until she felt something hard and rectangular. Oh god, she thought, pulling it out. Spike's lighter. The shiny metal reflected the color of her fingers, tan and pink. Memories flooded her rapidly, causing her heart to pound. She saw long, white fingers holding the lighter, flipping it open, lighting a cigarette held between soft lips flushed red from kisses. Her kisses. His lips. His fingers, his hands, the ones that held her steady as she rocked her body against his, tan flesh against white. Her body rocking against Spike's body. 'Stop right there, brain,' she thought. 'No more of that'.

She flipped the lighter open, her mind spinning rebelliously. He'd lit a cigarette with the lighter after their first bout of sex. She replayed the scene in her mind with practiced ease. It'd taken him three tries to get the flame of the lighter to catch, his hands were shaking so badly. She'd grabbed the lighter from him and lit his cigarette herself, then sat back and watched him smoke it. He'd been lying flat on his back in the rubble, brazenly naked. Her instincts screamed for her to run away, to distance herself from this creature she'd taken into her body, but her heart spoke louder. It told her to watch him, and so she did. She taken in the pale length of arm and thigh, the planes of chest and abdomen, the movement of lips and cheeks around the cigarette. Though tempted, she refused herself the safety of pretending he was human. No matter how alive he looked, she could not imagine him as anything but himself. A vampire. A monster. She had made love with--- no, she had made the biggest mistake of her life with him. Sitting beside him, groping his body with her eyes, she had let him into her heart. Thanks to her stupidity, he could crush her with a word, an off glance. And he would, it was inevitable. She'd expected no better from him, then.

Flipping open the lighter, Buffy remembered what Spike's first words had been after he finished his cigarette. He'd sat up and pulled her into his lap. Nuzzling her throat with an open mouth, he'd whispered into her skin words that had echoed in her mind ever since. "Do you love me yet, pet?" Rather then answer, she'd thrown him back and climbed on top of him, kissing him into silence. She'd never answered him. Waking up sore and full of guilt had chased away any soft words she might've given him. She'd ran away from him, leaving him trapped alone in the wreckage. With every bit of willpower, she'd forced herself to avoid him since that day, but his words had followed her. They wound threads of confusion around her brain. Did she love him? Could she love him? She wouldn't think about that. Could she leave him? Could she make herself stay away from him forever? Could she give up the only part of her life that made her feel real? She wanted to see him. She wanted to beat him into a pulp, then kiss him and make love to him until their bodies gave out. She wanted his lips on her skin, his hands pulling her closer. She even wanted his words, frightening and bewildering and unanswerable though they were. She wanted to have him in every way imaginable.

Shaking herself from her reverie, Buffy tossed the lighter away from her, into the box that held all of the other temptations being removed from her house. "That would be bad." Very bad. She could not give in. He would make her feel good if she went to him today. He might even make her feel good tomorrow, and next week. But eventually, everything between them would blow up in her face. Once, she could've dealt with that. She'd survived bad break-ups before. Loosing Spike, however, would be more then a bad break-up. It would mean loosing the only real thing she had left. She couldn't let herself get any closer to him. It was too dangerous.

Dawn glared at her, holding Kokopele behind her back protectively. "It was mom's," she repeated, "It reminds me of her. Can't I just keep it in my room? No one will see it. I'll just know it's there. It couldn't hurt anyone if no one knows it's there, right? It'll remind me of her. It'll be like having a little piece of her to keep with me, since I can't have her. C'mon Buffy!"

Buffy stared at the lighter, sitting on top of a candle inside the box. A piece of him, to remind her. "Okay, Dawn," Buffy said quietly.

Her sister ran out of the room, Kokopele under her arm. Flushing with relief strong enough to humble her, Buffy grabbed the lighter and stuck it in her pocket. A piece of him to keep, since she couldn't keep him.