Desperate Measures- Part 5 of Song of Solomon Series. ("Like a lily among thorns, so is my loved one among the young women.")
By: Isabelle
Disclaimers: BTVS belongs to Joss Whedon along with all the characters--these are sued for entertainment. Lyrics: Pilgrim by Enya.
Spoilers: "Smashed" and "Wrecked" Season 6 Summary: Set some fifty years after "Smashed", Spike died about seven months after the episode aired. Buffy being not truly human is more of an immortal; she's alone in this earth and her life does an 360 degree turn when she runs into Rocco in a bar one night. Rocco is somewhat the reincarnation of Spike's soul. B/S, some B/Rocco. Rating: Strong R
Distribution: Please do not take without my permission. The only sites that have my pre-approval to post my stuff is CarnalSins (cause it's mine), Death-Marked Love, and any affiliate/soul mate of mine.
Rating: Strong R (I curse...get used to it.)
Feedback: bih80@yahoo.com
Author's notes: If you've read 100 yrs of Solitude and enjoyed it you will like this, think Spike in 100 yrs, reversed to Buffy. Special thanks to by Betas Allison and Ophelia ;o)--they're wonderful *xoxoxox*
BIG NOTE FOR THIS ONE: There are Spanish words here that have no translation in the text but at the end of the chapter is small glossary that tells you not only the meaning but some tid-bits about it.
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"My beloved spoke, and said unto me, rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. "
Song of Songs 2: 10-13, The Bible
She must have blinked three times before she realized and understood what he had said.
"What?"
Rocco looked down at her hand. It was scraped from contacting Caesar's fangs. He took her smaller hand in his and studied the calluses that had formed through the years.
"Her name is Dolores; she used to work for my father."
Buffy pulled her hand away from his, getting uncomfortable with the heat of his skin. She stood up and walked away from him.
"Buffy?"
She kept walking.
He followed.
"I thought it would be good news," Rocco said confused.
She turned to look at him, tears flowing down her face. He sighed, she was crying...again.
"Look there," she said pointing to the bench. He looked. "Right there, a second before you came I was ready to say goodbye to him. To that life that I left so long ago...I was finally ready."
Rocco shook his head. "But there might be a chance..."
"No! There is no chance! Do you understand? He was a vampire, ok? He wasn't human--he didn't have a soul. He was a walking, animated corpse that had one beautiful demon living inside." She cried, running a shaky hand through her hair. "You think I didn't search? That I didn't spend years researching?"
"Buffy, what are you doing?" Xander asked tentatively as she walked around the Magic Box, pulling out volumes and dropping them on the table.
She continued looking at book titles. "One of these has to have something."
Xander sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Buffy, please..."
"No!" She cried, turning to look at him. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her hands trembled as she held the book tight to her chest. "Xander...I can't." She stopped, trying to find her voice. "They've been gone for four days and I can't..."
"Buffy, you have to give it time to heal--it's too fresh now."
Xander walked to her and wrapped his arms around her boneless body. "There has to be a way...there just has to..."
Xander rocked her back and forth until her sobs had quieted down. Until she felt the demons within her quiet, until she felt numb with pain and loss and abandonment.
She ran away that night.
"This time it might be different." Rocco pleaded with her.
Buffy glared at him. "Why do you follow me? Why do you continue to talk to me when I don't want to be talked to?"
Rocco sighed and grabbed her hand; he pulled her to the rail on the pier, facing the sea. He placed her with her hands holding to the bar and stood behind her, pressing himself against her, placing his arms on either side her hers.
Buffy felt her body flush by the intimate embrace. He leaned his head on her shoulder, propping his chin up. "Look at that sun, pet." He whispered.
Through her haze of emotions she looked at the awakening sun. It lighted the sky in soft yellows and deep oranges.
"I promised myself that I would help someone before I leave...that someone is you. I went out that night to find a person, a person who had nothing to live for, a person who hated life and was looking for a way out...the powers sent you. You have more history coursing though your veins than I could ever imagine. So I'm asking you now...will you please give it a try, a chance--you'll lose nothing if it doesn't work."
"Only my heart and my hopes," she said quietly. "If I believe you now, if I do go with you and tell myself thatthat I'll see Spike again—and he doesn't come back." She took a thick gulp of air. "I'd have to mourn him all over againI can't do that, Rocco. It killed that Buffy thenit would destroy what she has become now."
"Wouldn't that be the point, pet? To revive that long lost part of you, the sparkle in your eyes, the love of life?" he asked.
She turned around to look at him. His eyes were a brilliant blue, but it wasn't her Spike. The darkness that always hung around Spike was not there, there wasn't the fluttering of her heart around him and his presence didn't make her question all that she was.
"I've done so many"
"We've all done bad things in life." He reminded her.
Pilgrim, how
you journey
On the road you chose
To find out where the winds die
And where the stories go
She looked up at him again; her eyes watered with unshed tears. "No, in life we tell a couple of white lies here and there, maybe cheat on our taxes, cheat on our partnershumans do many things that they shouldn't, things that corrupt morals. But melet's just say I cry myself to sleep sometimes when the faces of those I've killed come back to haunt me. I have to ask myself at nightwho will haunt me tonight?"
Rocco was taken aback by her words. He pulled away from her and gaped at her.
She smiled wickedly at him. "So you see, dear boy—I'm not as innocent as you want me to be." She pulled her hands in front of him. "You see these hands?" she asked him. He nodded.
She inspected them in the soft light of the morning. "They have the strength of ten men. And they've killed more than tenthere is no heaven waiting for these hands, there's only hell left for meand I'm in it now."
He took her hands in his and forced her to look at him.
"Do you love him?" He asked fiercely.
Buffy stared at Rocco for sometime and slowly nodded. "You know I do."
"Did he die loving you?"
She nodded slowly again.
"Then he'll come back loving you"
"No! He'll come back loving Buffy! She died, I'm not her, and I just have her memoriesnot even my body is the same. I'm scarred, I'm callused, I'm rough, and I've fucked more men than I can rememberso you see she died"
"Stop sayin' that! Look at me, luv." He commanded. "You think he didn't like the dark side of you? That he fell in love with your innocence?"
Buffy didn't answer him, but bit her lip in response.
"I don't know about Spikebut from what you told me it seems that he fell in love with the whole package, and that never goes away."
Buffy remained quiet, small tears running down her face.
"C'monwe must leave early if we want to get there on time," he said.
Taking her small hand he dragged her to the car.
All days come
from one day
That must you must know,
You cannot change what's over
But only where you go
The world passed around her like a slow carrousel. She saw the same things twice, thrice and more.
Tree.
Person.
Car.
Land.
Building.
It was a monotonous ache that burned her and made her want to scream, but there was thin glass between her and the world. She hadn't bothered to ask Rocco why they were in a limousine, or why did the chauffeur call him sir'. All she knew, all she could think of was the fact that she was going to get Spike back.
She had lost hope long agoshe had searched high and low for ways to bring back a vampire that had died of unnatural causes. She only found dead ends and construction signs in her path.
There was nothing real in her reality.
"Do you ever wish that you hadn't been brought back?"
Buffy was startled by Spike's voice. She had been in the kitchen trying to cook a decent meal for Dawn and apparently he had been lounging by the door, staring at her like she often found him. Almost as if he couldn't believe that she was really there, that they were really together.
She thought hard on his question, as she continued stirring the Alfredo sauce. The small parsley bits mingled in with the brown buttered crushed cloves of garlic.
"At timeswhen it's so hard I want to will it all to go away." She looked back up at him. "Then yes, in those moments I wish I were deadin that perfect place, you know?"
He shifted uncomfortably and shrugged. "NoI don't know—guess I'll never know."
She stopped stirring, regardless of the instructions and turned to look at him. "I'm sorry"
Spike shook his head. "No matter—I'm living in heaven ere."
Buffy walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him. "You think your soul is up there?"
Spike looked up at the kitchen ceiling. "Don't fancy hanging bout your crummy ceiling all eternity but I'm guessing as long as it's close to you...then it's alright. No qualms ere."
Buffy chuckled and pushed him away. "I can never have a serious conversation with you." She complained.
Spike imitated her pout and pulled her back to his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder and kissing the top of her head. "Don't matter were I end up, what matters for me is herenow, being with you and Nibblet, it's good nough for me."
Buffy looked up at him. "If you get dusty I'd bring you back and punish you for making me mourn you."
Spike gave her a wicked smiled. "You'd spank me good and proper?"
Buffy pushed him off. "Ugh! You're such a perv!"
Spike laughed at her insulted look. "And you know it."
He began kissing her in the way he knew she couldn't resist. The bastard!
Dawn ate burnt Fettuccini Alfredo that day.
She sighed and dug into her pocket her for a cigarette. For some reason she had told herself not to believe the beautiful lies. She would spare a glance at Rocco once in a while who simply smiled back at her and told her how much time they had left in their trip. Apparently they were headed to Arizona.
She shrugged; she'd never been there.
"So who this woman, exactly?" She asked, rolling down her window and blowing the smoke outside.
Rocco crossed his legs at the knee and leaned back. "She's a curanderaamong other things."
"A curandera?" Buffy asked confused.
"A woman who is like the local witch doctor for the small Mexican tribes. She deals with herbs and echizos." He said. Buffy rolled her eyes. "I know what it is, Rocco. Just when did curanderas become bringers of the dead?"
Rocco smiled. "For hundreds of years, luv."
"Didn't the government outlaw them back in '34?" She asked, playing with the hem of her coat.
Rocco took one of her cigarettes and lit it for himself. "They did."
She smiled at him wickedly. "Seems to me you're not as saintly as you claim to be."
"Everyone has their demons, slayer."
She nodded in agreement. "Some more than others."
One way leads
to diamonds,
One way leads to gold,
Another leads you only
To everything you're told
In your heart you wonder
Which of these is true;
The road that leads to nowhere,
The road that leads to you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
The reached the tiny border village hours later when the sun was almost setting. Buffy was hungry and she desperately hoped there were some good buffalo wings nearby.
Montaña de Paz was a small village of no more than four hundred people. The desert-land was dry and gusty, sending small waves of ocher sand magically into the air.
The huts were made of dry cement, with small wooden entrances that remained mostly open to let some of the cool breeze into the hot hut.
Male children wearing Salvation Army hand-me-downs ran in the street, chasing each other, playing Cowboys and Indians with wooden sticks for swords and guns.
Young female children sat in little groups out site the houses playing with their muñecas, dressing them in colorful rags of clothing.
The older girls, their mothers and abuelas sat peeling the corns and crushing the masa for the tortillas.
Some of the men stood by the cantina having their cervezas and playing with a pack of old beat-up cards. Some other gathered in groups to speak of politica and the twisted government that had ignored their needs.
When the limousine entered the village everything went still and the inhabitants watched with weary eyes the Americanos that came to their land.
Buffy watched with keen interest as the villagers studied the car, trying to see who came this time to their haven.
"Where are we?" She asked almost whispering.
"Montaña de paz. Mountain of Peace. It's one of the few isolated villages in the country. The natives speak their own language and live their own lives. We don't bother them and they don't bother us."
"Seems to me we're intruding." She commented and smiled at the little girl with a dirty face and held her doll tight and watched the car with a curious face. She noticed her feet were bare. "Why doesn't anyone help these people?" she asked.
Rocco shrugged. "One can only help those who want to be helped."
Buffy turned to look at him. "They don't want to be helped?"
Rocco pointed to the villagers. "They've lived this way for a hundred years."
"I'm sure it was not always this way."
"Well you bloody greedy colonials just had to manifest your destiny and take over the entire bleedin' continent—therefore some people suffer so you can have more land on your American map." He smirked at her.
She glared back. "I'm so not having this conversation—it's not my fault what people did hundreds of years ago. If I've learned something in my long life is that you can't undo the greatest wrongs done to people, you can only hope that they rise from the ashes."
"Wise words from the broody and glary," He shot back.
Buffy grumbled and turned back on her seat.
Will you find
the answer
In all you say and do?
Will you find the answer in you?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
At the edge of the village the limousine stopped.
The slayer looked out the window and saw a little hut.
It was different from the others. Beads hung on the roof of the small makeshift porch, made from local seeds and hard, dried fruit. There were skins of snakes and dried chicken feet hung by string and set to dry.
A small vegetable and weed garden bloomed to the side of the hut, filled with culantros, achiotes, rosa de mañana, recado, pimientos and other various green plants that she could not identify.
The chauffeur came around the limousine and opened the door for Buffy; she glared at him and stepped out of the car.
"I can open the damn door by myself," she hissed.
Rocco came up behind her. "Pardon the lady, she's had a rough trip and she's hungry."
Buffy scowled at him but he ignored her, as did the stuffy chauffeur. A large hand settled on the small of her back and she was urged forward.
She eyed the silent hut warily; it was larger than the rest of the village, but a small hut nonetheless.
"Are you sure it's safe...it looks like it might fall down and then you'd have Buffymush."
Rocco smiled at her and urged her forward. "It's safe."
The scent of violetas was thick in the air, making her dizzy at the strong scent.
"Just relax, the scent burns right through you," he told her and raised his hand to knock at the small door.
Each heart is a
pilgrim,
Each one wants to know
The reason why the winds die
And where the stories go
The door was opened and a young girl of about thirteen stood before them. She wore a white dress that stopped midcalf, with a thick red ribbon tied around her small waist. Her black hair was braided in a single thick plait that fell to her side. She was deeply tanned but her cheeks were plump and pink. Large black eyes met Buffy's and her smile was so wholehearted that Buffy couldn't help but smile back.
"Mr. Pickering! She knew you were coming!" She said brightly. She looked at Buffy. "You too, Miss Summers."
Buffy gaped at her.
The girl nodded knowingly. "She's all-knowing, she knew you were coming for months--the wind from the west told her."
The girl turned around, motioning them to follow.
"Must remember to thank my friend the wind," she murmured under the breath.
The inside of the hut was dark and dry, the walls were covered with pictures of Catholic saints, candles, and an occasional animal skull. There was burning incense made from crushed flowers and dark roots that made Buffy gag. The hut had apparently two rooms, one was the entry and a thin white sheet separated the next.
Behind them the young girl closed the door, startling Buffy and making Rocco chuckle. She glared at him and held tighter to his arm.
Behind the white sheet she could see someone moving, there were lit candles that gave the sheet theatrical shadows that hunted the dark room.
"Sé quien eres," (I know who you are.) the voice of a woman was heard from behind the curtain.
Rocco looked at Buffy questioningly and she shivered.
"Ella me entiende," (She understands me.) The curandera said as Buffy heard some another candle being lit. "Yo se que tu eres," (I know what you are.) she continued.
Buffy squinted behind the curtain trying to see the woman.
"Sé...que tu corazon te duele. Sé...que lloras de noche por el amor perdido. Sé...que ella no eres pura de sangre, y tus manos estan cultidas de sangre innocente." (I know...that your heart is hurting. I know...that you cry nightly because of a lost love. I know...that your blood is no longer pure and your hands are tinted with the blood of innocents.)
Buffy shivered as she bit her lips, the woman's hissing voice chilled her and made her uneasy.
"Vienes porque crees que yo te puedo alludar." (You came here because you think I can help you.)
Buffy stood stock still as the shadow stood up and walked towards the curtains.
"Entra...hermana." (Enter, sister.)
Without thinking twice about it she proceeded without Rocco, and pulling the curtain apart she crossed to the other side.
Pilgrim, in
your journey
You may travel far,
For pilgrim it's a long way
To find out who you are
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Before she even saw the curandera's face she knew she had entered a trance.
She knew this because she was floating. Her small body felt weightless and she was seeing the clouds.
Yup, definitely a trance.
There were clouds but she wasn't in Heaven, the sky was dark red and there was boiling heat surrounding her. She thought her skin might burn and melt away and she gasped in pain as the heat lanced through her.
Wherever she was, she was gently set down from her flying excursion. The floor was scorching hot but no matter how hot it was she would not burn, her skin stayed intact.
She walked forward tentatively and that's when she heard.
Screams.
Agonizing screams that pierced the night of red and orange.
She realized in an instant.
She was in hell.
Pilgrim, it's a
long way
To find out who you are
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The wrinkled old hand wiped her forehead and the young unconscious girl moaned in her sleep.
Rocco looked up at Dolores. "How long do you think it'll take?"
The old woman closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened her eyes she frowned. "She has to find him first...she must see for herself before anything."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pilgrim, it's a
long way
To find out who you are
She didn't know why she was walking or where she was going all she knew is that her translucent feet were being pulled by something unidentifiable. Every time the sole of her bare feet touched the rocky hot ground she winced at the feel of the small penetrating rocks that dug into her soft flesh and the burning sting of incandescent coal.
Buffy saw the cliff she was walking on was the brim of a large pit filled with burning lava that let out fevered fumes and hit her face like a speeding truck. She could hear howls of pain everywhere. As she walked she saw bones and skulls, beaten and burned men and women in the floor raising up their arms at her begging for a drink. Their faces hollow and filled with ulcers and external tumors that dripped with puss and maggots.
She cringed and looked away, bile rising up her throat, panicking at the thought that she might look like that if she remained there much longer.
The pull that was guiding her brought her to a small cave that was lighted by a few old candles. In the entrance there were little demons fighting for scrap pieces of meat and Buffy didn't even want to ask where the meat had come from since she had seen no animals.
She walked deep in the cave, the floor much cooler, and she welcomed the temperature change with a loud relieved sigh.
She walked towards very back, knowing instinctively that something important was hidden there.
She took a candle from its place in the wall and used it to guide her into the darkness of the cave.
Straining, she could hear low moans emanating from the blackness.
There, in the back corner of the cave a naked figure was crouched with the front of its body facing the wall. Its head was buried between its hands and she heard distinct whimpers.
Whimpers of pain and solitude, whimpers of the lost.
She walked towards the figure. It was a man; his skin was pale and perfect. He had neither boils nor tumors on him but he seemed troubled as his shivered and trembled in the dark.
She could hear him sobbing with all that was left in his heart.
Crouching down next to him she tentatively reached out and touched his muscled shoulder. The skin felt cool to her touch so familiar...
He felt her presence and slowly raised his head.
Buffy froze when she saw the peroxide blonde head.
Turning to look at her, he faced her.
Buffy felt her entire world fall out from beneath her feet as bright tormented blue eyes looked at her.
Her eyes watered as she saw the pain etched in his face.
He reached out to touch her, his eyes filled with wonder and a twinge of...anger.
She felt his hand on her cheek. Soft tentative butterfly touch.
She closed her eyes and let herself relish the moment. His hand cupped her face and she smiled at the familiar sense.
Opening them to look at him once more she placed her hand over his and kissed his palm.
He turned his head to the side, his lip slightly pouting and he looked at her and felt her skin.
"Buffy?" was all he got through his lips before she felt herself being wrenched from his grasp.
She screamed, trying to hold on to him; she saw him stand and reach out for her, his eyes desperately trying to make her stay. And she wanted to stay with him, with all her heart. But she was pulled, faster than a slayer or a vampire could react.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She sat up gasping for air and shouting with a loud sob.
"Spike!"
She felt two hands hold her down, two other hands bring a bowl to her mouth, and thick bitter elixir was poured down her throat as she tried to push it away. But her body felt weak and she gave in as sleep overtook her faster than she thought possible, and as soothing hands ran through her hair she heard words of comfort that lulled her to sleep. Finally giving in she let her eyes drift shut.
Pilgrim, it's a
long way
To find out who you are
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It must have been late afternoon when she woke up, her lids slowly opened as the warm afternoon sun flushed her body.
She stretched languidly as if well rested. For once she had a peaceful slumber, that hadn't happened since...well she couldn't remember when she had woken up feeling this good.
She smiled as the wriggled her toes and snuggled in further into the comfortable bed.
"Mmmm..." she moaned.
Her moment was ruined as a soft singing was heard and someone entered her room.
She sat up and suddenly realized she was not at home.
She was in a small room filled with unlit candles, pictures of saints and a small shrine to Holy Mary. Her bed was a small cot that nearly touched the floor. And the door to her sanctuary was a thin blue curtain that was opened by and elderly woman singing soft songs and carrying a small metal cauldron.
"Who are you? Where am I?" She asked quickly.
The woman smiled down at her and sat in the small stool by her bed. Her hair was white, long and braided into a bun on the back of her head.
"Buenas tardes," she said. (Good Afternoon)
Buffy look at the old woman apprehensively.
"Do not be afraid, hermana. Here you are safe," she said and placed down the small cauldron. Taking out a small plate she began serving Buffy.
Buffy's senses heightened as the smell of fresh warm food went through her. She realized she must be starving. The last time she remembered eating was two nights ago when she went out with Rocco...
Rocco!
"Rocco?" She asked.
The woman smiled and continued to serve her. "He's outside, flirting with the local girls, no doubt."
Buffy smiled at her good nature. "You're Dolores, the curandera?"
The woman nodded and handed Buffy her full plate. "Eat, you need your strength, hermana."
Buffy gratefully took the place. It was some type of bean soup with dry tortillas on the side and green vegetables. Before she knew it she had eaten everything in her plate and felt nice and satisfied.
"Bebida?" (Drink?) Dolores asked and she brought a small cup filled with liquid to her.
It was cool water. Buffy hadn't had water in a long time, it ran nice and smooth down her throat, putting out the fire of the spicy soup she had just consumed.
She took a deep breath and sighed. "Thank you, it was delicious."
Dolores smiled and took the plate and the cauldron away.
It gave time for Buffy to stand up and look around, the ceiling wasn't too high and she almost hit her head. Suddenly she felt like Alice in Wonderland.
"Hmmm, what time is it?" She asked the woman from as she emerged from the curtain.
Dolores smiled and beckoned her to come. Buffy followed her out of the makeshift room and into what appeared to be her workroom. It had more candles and raged cushions on the floor. But what grabbed her attention were the many jars of strange specimens that adorned the shelves on the wall.
"Sit, hermana," she said.
Buffy looked down at the woman who was now comfortably sitting on the floor. "Why do you call me hermana?"
Dolores smiled again and reached out for her hand, pulling Buffy to sit down on the floor with her. Turning her palm up she traced the lines on her hand.
"It is written...in the sand of times. The slayer and the spirit of the woman shall be as one."
Buffy pulled her hand back as if scorched. "The spirit of the woman?"
"That is me and the many before me." Dolores responded.
Buffy looked at her hypnotic black eyes. "I'm no longer the slayer."
Dolores shook her heard slowly and pulled out a jar from the shelf. It was red achiote powder; she took some in her hands, staining her fingers clay red and threw it at the metal skillet between the two. Buffy didn't realize the skillet was lit until she powder sizzled and fumed radiating heat.
The woman's face brought out shadows in the room illuminating her many wrinkles; she made a scary picture.
Buffy pulled back as Dolores mixed her hands within the flames.
"In the beginning of time there was good. Good was everywhere and everything. But not all good can stay good, balance was needed and from the many good, evil crept to the heart of some. The small evil spread through the land, it spread as far as the eye could see. Until the powers saw the balance was in danger of tipping over. So they created man. Man with the power to choose good from evil. The choice is within the hearts of every living creature. From man came forth his sister and mate, woman. She was to be a balance of the man. Her spirit was strong while the man's was proud. But man and woman could not fight pure evil alone. So the powers created a sister for them both. The Slayer. With the strength of spirit of the woman and the physical strength of many men she was the Chosen One. Chosen to protect man and woman until the end of time. But the slayer was not all good and was not all evil. She was the perfect balance of both but still with the ability to choose."
Buffy stared at the women her mouth gaping.
"You are and will always be the slayer, she has chosen you as the new vessel. You summoned her spirit and now she inhabits your human body giving you eternal life."
"It's not fair!" She cried, standing up suddenly.
The room got thick with power and she was forced by unseen hands to sit back down. "You see it as a punishment?"
Buffy looked at the woman who stared intently at her. "Well all that it's ever brought me was pain and suffering and a life of solitude."
"Life is suffering, hermana." Dolores reminded her.
"Stop calling me that!" Buffy hissed.
"You can hide in pits of black, in the loneliest lands, you can sink to the bottom of the deepest black ocean or you can travel to the snow country were the winds blow and you'll still be the slayer. The slayer is in you, intermingles with your organs, breathing when you breathe and hurting when you hurt. It feels pain and experiences love. The spirit is more alive than any other human soul."
"So I no longer have a soul?" Buffy asked, studying the burning powder.
Dolores smiled slightly. "What is a soul really? Is a soul an angel? If so then demons have souls too since demons were angels once."
Buffy's head shot up. "What?"
"A soul is what you make out of your existence, it's what shapes you and those around you, and it's the force of the universe alive in each of us. You can die and you can live, you'll still have a soul."
"What about vamp..."
"Vampires?" Dolores asked.
Buffy nodded tentatively.
"You're worried that...perhaps you've been killing souls all these years?" she asked.
"Have I?"
Dolores smiled. "Vampires are special creatures. The first vampire was made when the first slayer and pure evil mated." More powder was added to the skillet and Buffy began wondering if this was just done for the dramatics. "The child borne out of the union was not pure, it was tainted. The powers frowned upon the child and cursed it to live in eternal darkness, a creature of the night, for survival it would need the liquid of life, blood. The child was not dead nor was it alive, he walked in both worlds. It inherited the strength and agility of its mother and the eternal life of his father. It was beautiful like its mother yet is was ugly like its father."
Buffy shivered as the room grew cold and damp. "I thought slayers were made to fight the vampires."
"The first slayer could not live forever and in the arms of her demon lover she died. Pure evil, enraged that the powers had made his mate mortal took out his anger with her brother and sister, man and woman. He took a child from the couple and feed it to his son, the vampyr. However the vampyr had compassion over the child and in return fed it his blood, thus creating the first tainted creature. The child found another to feed and then another and another. Until the land was a wasteland of evil once again. The powers imprisoned pure evil in the depths of eternal Hell but their problem was still there. Evil roamed the land, so the powers made out of the man and the woman a baby girl. A special child that was to be the Chosen One. They gave her the soul of the first slayer yet she was as human as her parents were. The child was chosen to fight against her brothers, killing them and defending those of pure blood. And balance was restored."
There was a pause and Buffy almost held her breath.
"Until a young slayer came along," she smiled at Buffy. "This slayer was special, she impressed the powers with her stubbornness and her agility. She broke the rules by following the actions of her ancient ancestor and taking a demon lover to her bed. But she died bravely saving the world and the powers were ready to lay her to rest, having played her role in this earth. But you see, my dear, you are no ordinary girl and you are no ordinary slayer. You summoned the spirit of the slayer and she came to you, upon dying your soul stayed in that world you so fondly remember and you were joined by your mother...the first slayer. So you are neither human nor demon, you are the Chosen One. You have loved your brothers, man and Vampyr and you have love. No slayer has ever done so."
"But Spike..."
The woman closed her eyes and breathed in deeply the odorless fumes. "He is special, very special."
"He's in hell!" Buffy cried. "We have to get him..."
"Evil there cannot touch him." She opened her eyes and looked at Buffy. "You saw him, he was unmarked and skin still as soft as you remember..."
Buffy nodded, tears forming in her eyes.
"Evil is jealous of him; Spike had what he lost so long ago, the love of a slayer--a pure slayer at that, evil doesn't want him there. He's isolated and alone for all eternity."
Tears were falling down her cheeks when the woman finished. "How long...how long has it been for him?"
Dolores closed her wrinkly eyes once more. "Four thousand one hundred and forty seven days."
A small sob escaped her lips. "We have to get him out, we must! I can't take it...he's so alone, you had to see him, he needs me..."
The older woman looked at her in compassion. "He does. But it will not be that simple."
"Anything, tell me what I have to do, I'll do it."
The woman's gaze hardened and she stared intently at the slayer before her. "You need...a vessel, a body. I can get his soul out but you need his body."
Buffy gaped at her. "His body is ashes."
The woman smiled sadly at her. "Then there's your answer."
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Rocco found her sitting on top of a large rock by the lake with her knees drawn up to meet her chin.
She was crying softly.
He sighed; she must have heard the news already.
Quietly he took a seat next to her and stared out into the lake watching as the sun set, lighting the sky with orange and purple.
"The local people call a sunset like this La Boda de la Bruja. The wedding of the Witch," he said conversationally.
Buffy sniffled and closed her eyes. "I feel dead."
"You've felt dead for some time, pet," he commented.
She nodded and smiled sadly. "Been dead a long time."
Rocco took out a cigarette and lit it, offering her one. She declined.
Exhaling the smoke he looked at her. "What did you feel when you saw him?"
Buffy held her breath as more tears trickled down her face. "I felt alive once again."
Rocco listen as her breathing increased.
"I still love him...after all these years, I still do. And I could tell that his only way to hold on to sanity is remembering us...me and Dawn."
"Are you going to do it?" He asked her.
Buffy stood up and began to pace in front of him. "How the hell? What am I going to kill a man in the street and let Spike inhabit his body? It wouldn't be Spike and he would hate it, I know him!" She took a deep breath and ran her shaky hands through her hair. "I have to let him go, I have to..." She sighed. "I know were he is now and that will haunt me more than his memory ever did."
Rocco looked back at the sunset and exhaled his cigarette; he crushed it under his boot. "You know why I brought you here?"
Buffy looked back at him, he was crying. She made a move to ask him but he held his hand up.
"You see this cigarette? It's the last one I'll ever have. This sunset...it's the last I'll ever see."
"No, Rocco," Buffy denied him in shock at what he was offering.
"Buffy... I'm dying." He smiled sadly. "I have a few weeks left...I don't want to die strapped to a hospital bed, or gasping for my last breath...or even in a coma for months. I told you I went to find someone I could help. I always thought it would be monetary help I would give...but the powers are funny asses aren't they?"
Buffy was looking at him incredulously.
"So this is it. I give you the only thing that would make you happy. I give you Spike as my body."
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TBC.... (you know you don't mean the death threat...you really love me *g*)
Word Translation (Glossary) Words are in order that they appear in the text.-Montaña de Paz- Mountain of Peace. Imaginary town in the Arizona/Mexican border.
-Muñecas- raged dolls
-Abuelas- grandmothers. Usually from the mother's side.
-Masa- corn dough
-Cerveza- beer (usually made out of natural roots)
-Politica- local politics
-Americanos- Americans
-Culantro- green plant whose leaves are used for cooking and healing.
-Achiotes- red root ends, that are boiled and sued for red body paint, disinfectant and for cooking pasteles and alcapurias.
-Pasteles- common food, made out of crushed green plantains, corn, wheat and native potatoes filled with meat, green olives and pigeon peas-there are boiled and served with salsa.
-Alcapurias- common food, made out of crush green plantains, filled with cooked spicy beef and deep fried.
-Rosa de Mañana- legendary blue-violet rose, it's considered a myth but it's said to be real in Indonisian, Mayan and Incan ancient culture. Said to powerful in the healing and witchcraft.
-Recado- common green-leafed plant that is used in cooking. Has a very strong scent and should be used sparingly.
-Pimientos- peppers, green, red and yellow. Usually spicy.
-Violetas- wild violets, boiled and used for chants and house deodorant.
-Hermana- sister, kindred.
Reference from my own cultural knowledge and Bless Me, Ultima' by Rudolfo Anaya.