Song of Solomon Series

by Isabelle

Set some fifty years after Dead Things, Spike dies and Buffy is immortal. Very AU. COMPLETED SERIES!!

8. This is the Way I Live my Life

This is the Way I Live my Life- Part 8 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, Remind Me by Nickleback.

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 Heller for her quick beta :o)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They all hold swords, being expert in war: everyman hath his sword upon his thigh because of fear in the night."

Song of Solomon 3:8, The Bible



Never made it as a wise man
I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealin'
Tired of livin' like a blind man
I'm sick inside without a sense of feelin'

Buffy watching with horror as her love descended seven stories down into the wooden porch.

Her heart was racing, beating a mile a minute...or perhaps it had stopped--she didn't know.

His arms outstretched as if flying.

"No!!!" she screamed, until she tore flesh from her throat. Like a fallen angel he crashed through the roof and landed.

She watched in amazement how a fluffy chair broke his fall and he rolled, landing in a perfect stance--regal and slick like a wet cat.

He dusted off the little splintering bits on his head and arms and looked up to her.

As their eyes met Buffy was shocked to find that they were deader than anything she had ever seen. It reminded her of when she had first came back.

The stare was a kick and almost painful as he broke it and ran into the night.

She sagged with a sigh, mostly out of relief and the other part of sadness. It was not going to be as easy as she thought, Spike was not what he was when he died. In his mind he had killed Dawn. The one human being being he had loved platonically.

She took a deep breath. So he needed to run, she would let him run.

So he wanted to get himself killed or hurt...well, not while she was around, not unless she did it.

With a determined face she picked up the phone in the room and dialed 0.

"Yes, Miss Summers, how can I help you this evening?"

Buffy tried to hid her surprise, but she really had other matters to worry about.

"I need a car, a fast one and now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

And this is how you remind me
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am

Spike ran as fast as he could, until he felt his ankles might break off and he might have to stop to let them heal a bit. Furious with himself, the world, and that bitch that wouldn't leave him alone.

He wanted torment and all he found was her.

She wasn't real, this world wasn't real, it was a satanic trick of hell that was making him go crazy. He shook his head as he ran, trying to pry her heart and her rough skin from his mind. The way her fingers traced comforting circles on his lower back when she held him. He wanted to rip that part of his back off until he bled and cried out from pain.

There was rage in him. Pure un-adulterated rage.

Passing people in the streets, pulling them out of the way. Before he knew it his human mask had slipped off and he was bare to the world.Then suddenly the need for fresh blood was deep within him. Growing and murmuring to him.

Shouting at him to find sweet, warm blood.

The type that melts in your mouth not in your hands, he thought, smiling. He looked at the happy teenagers getting out of downtown clubs in the wee hours of the morning, with skirts too short and boots too high to run in. He smiled as his sigh cause a lonely girl walking on her own.

Tinted red hair pilled on top with too much hair spray and too much animal fat lipstick on her lips. She was alone and perfect.

He could smell her loneliness in the way she tightened her pleather coat around her small thin body, making the sound of rushing blood in her veins even more delectable.

He hardened.

He was a monster and this was what a monster did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not like you to say sorry
I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken
For handing you a heart worth breakin'

Buffy ran down the stairs of the apartment with the two heavy bags hefted over shoulder to find Rudolf holding the door open to the brand new Ferrari. He smiled at her as if all was well, as if her boyfriend had just not tried to commit suicide and was now doing God knew what.

"Good evening, Ms. Summers. How are you on this lovely evening?"

Buffy glared at the man.

"May I take your bags?" he offered.

"They're too heavy for you," she said.

He smiled. "I'm sure I can manage," he answered, seeing as she held them casually. She smirked at his insistence.

"Sure, Rudy," he glared at her and nearly fell all together on the floor when she shoved the bags at him.

Composing himself he smiled weakly and almost dragged the bags--walking in front of the car to the passenger's side. She eyed him careful and cautiously as he opened the door for himself and got in, with her bags on his lap.

He took a deep breath.

"I suppose they were a bit heavy," he confessed, whiping the sweat off his brow with his perfectly pressed handkerchief.

She smirked and turned on the car, grinning at the sound of the engine.

"This baby corners like it's on rails," she said.

Rudolf looked at her as if she'd gone crazier.

"Julia Roberts...Pretty Woman?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry I don't know what m'lady is talking about." he answered.

Buffy sighed. "You probably weren't even born then," she murmured as she hit the gas, making the tires screech.

Rudolf grabbed on to the bags for dear life as she sped down the narrow road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been wrong, I've been down
To the bottom of every bottle
Despite words in my head
Scream "Are we having fun yet?"
Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no

Soft china dolls with perfect pale faces and long breakable fingers, like cotton stitching on swelling red skin. Welts of perfect brutality, flagellant marks on alabaster skin, let it drip with the blood of the accused, let it mingle with the saliva of the teary.

Over and over in his mind it went like a birthday carousel filled with unsuspecting children. Screaming virgins with ripped skirts that ran from him and his bestiality.

He wanted to laugh as she whimpered in a corner. Small, vulnerable, and moist. Moist from the sweat drops on her pale skin that made him lick his lips. Sweat would be found in the most delectable places, like her armpits, the back of her knees, between her silken legs...ohh he wanted to fuck her before anything.

Fuck her until she slithered to the floor in exhaustion of pain and pleasure.

She backed up to the last part of the alley as he stalked before her.

"What's wrong, kitten?" he purred and she whimpered more. "Are you scared, m'china doll?"

She nodded and slid down to the floor, tears marring her face, small pink lips trembling.

"I bet you taste like sweet vanilla..." he studied her. "You know what vanilla tastes like, china doll?"

The girl let out a small sob and clutched her coat around her.

"Worry not, daddy will let you taste of it, pet. Keep that perfect beauty forever..." he cocked his head to the side and gently kneeled next to her.

"I'm a monster, y'know?" he said conversationally.

The girl shook her head in denial. "I'm sure you're not, mister."

Spike smiled at her for some time then shook his face. Monster revealed.

She screamed and started to cry in earnest.

"Please..please...please..."

He chuckled. "Oh god, I love the sound of please...makes the meal so much more tasty....you know I was wrong--you might taste like veal. I like veal, you know."

Gently he caressed the exposed fingers that clutched her coat. "You know when was the last time I fed?"

She did nothing but cry. But he continued the rubbing of her knuckles, moving up to her wrist.

"A long time ago...before you were even born. And to think that you were born with the specific purpose of being my first meal in over half a century."

She whimpered and he grabbed her shoulder and stood her up with him, pressing her small body flush against his.

"But it's like riding a bike--y'never forget."

And with that his mouth descended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy sped through downtown--club area, the darkest places. She would know if he was around, she always knew. But she had this deep sinking feeling in her gut that everything was not as peachy as she was pretending it was. With that thought she floored the accelerator her jaw set with determination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not like you didn't know that
I said I love you and I swear I still do
It must have been so bad
'Cause living with me must have damn near killed you

Before sharp pointed teeth could slice the perfect white neck he growled deep in his throat as his shoulder was pierced with an arrow.

He shoved china doll to the side and turned to look at his attacker.

Only it wasn't an attacker...it was fifty of them.

"Evenin' gents," he said, smiled though the pain in his shoulder was running up and down his left hand.

The vampires did nothing but stare at him. Some grinned and showed their fangs.

One dressed in a suit walked in front of the rest. His hair jet black, and combed with thick gel all back. Calm face and narrow black eyes as he clapped.

"If I wouldn't have stopped you, you would've done it, friend." the
vampire in the suit said.

"Yeah, well I was hungry...friend," Spike answered wearily.

The vampire smiled. "You must be Spike."

Spike straightened and glared at the man. "Not fair, friend, you know my name but I don't kow yours--plus you just shot me. Need to know the name of the man I'm gonna kill."

"Well that's not nice, William." he answered.

"I'm not a nice man." Spike replied.

The man smiled and nodded. "So enough with the chit chat?"

Spike nodded.

"Right--I'm here looking for your lady love."

Set jaw was more than enough to show that the blond vampire was not happy about whom he was looking for. "I think any 'message' you need to give to her I can deliver."

The vampire chuckled. "What a pity...I liked fucking her over. Beating her up until she couldn't walk. Tough little shit that one is but then again aren't all Slayers that way?"

Spike had to take deep breaths to prevent himself from ripping his throat out.

"Well we should both know...you fucked her."

The man waited for his answer.

Nothing, just clenching and unclenching his hands.

"And so have I."

And that did it. With pure rage Spike launched himself at the man, only to be jumped by forty nine others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy knew it instantly when they jumped him. She stopped the car at the mouth of the alley. She could smell him...like a nascence.

Rudolf looked at the neighborhood as the small woman exited the car and walked to his side.

"Ms. Summers do you really think it's a good idea to leave the car here?" he looked at the homeless people in the sidewalks and the vampires whores grinning at him. "It looks a bit...dark, not well lit."

Buffy yanked the car doors opened and dragged out one of the bags. She set it on the ground and pulled out a 12 gauge shotgun, filling it with specialty bullets made out of wood lining. Vampire killers.

She filled it to the 8 runs it could go and cocked it.

Looking around at the observing people.

"Touch the car or the old fart and you'll be singing halleluyas for Lucifer."

No one objected.

She looked back at Rudolf who as almost huddled in the car. "They won't hurt you. If one of them comes near you use the stake. She signaled to the piece of wood she threw at his lap after she grabbed the other bag from him.

He watched with open mouth as she walked alone and bravely to the alley that led to the large old abandoned playground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is how you remind me
Of what I really am
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am


So this is death, William, Spike thought idly as he was kicked and punched into a huddling, whimpering mess in the floor. He had put up a brave fight, but he didn't have a stake with him and all it did was make his fist run bloody as they connected blindly to sharp teeth.

He was giving in...it was almost peaceful if there wasn't so much pain...

But suddenly it stopped.

All heads turned to where the fire was shot that left one of their companions dust.

Small, frail looking slayer stood there with a look that would melt ice.

"Well, boys, I think you just dug your own gravesoh wait—you're already dead." She smiled.

The man with the suit stepped up, his eyes burning with hatred.

"Slayer," he greeted.

"Tito," she answered back.

"He were expecting you. Didn't mean to hurt your friendpoor thing, put up a brave fight—didn't you William?"

Buffy eyes narrowed as she saw Spike curled into a ball and started shaking.

"Ashes to ashesand dust to dust," she said and fired very pointedly at Tito's chest. The vampire's eyes went wide with disbelief right before he exploded into a mess.

Buffy pumped her gun. "Would've had second thoughts if he hadn't been so sloppy in bed."

More than half of the vampires ran out as their leader was taken out but about twenty of them remained, eager to see which one of them could best the immortal Slayer.

"Ok, who's next?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~''

Rudolf almost jumped when he saw vampires running out of the alley were he had seen Buffy disappear to.

They were running scared for their unlives.

He grinned. Well, by George, we're winning, he though happily though his strategy was to remain in the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

Spike felt the fight all around him but all he could do was stay curled up the way he was. Maybe he was back in hell and he had succeeded in dying. He was now being tormented to an eternity of hearing Buffy fight for her life.

This was more like it—this was a punishment he deserved for killing Dawn.

He breathed in the fight around him, he could smell her sweat and hear her grunts. Bones being crushed by powerful kicks to the chest, the eerie sound of exploding skin—turning into dust.

It was an eternity before it quieted down and he felt gently yet strong hands on him.

"Spike?" soft whispering voice. He felt like he was drowning.

Small warm hands on his face and sweet pepper kisses on his cheek. It was enough pleasure to make him open his eyes.

Shit, he was back on earth.

"Buffy?" he asked hoarsely.

The slayer pulled him up, gently, wincing as he winced.

When standing up he felt her small arms go around him to support him. This was wrong, he was supposed to be in hell, suffering unbearable torment for what he did to her. Turning her into a creature who fucked vampires to get off on it, a person who no longer smelled of vanilla but of strong whiskey.

He shook his head in denial. "No—I'm dead, this isn't real." He whispered.

But his whispered pleas were met by a small squeeze and a kiss to his forehead.

Last thing he felt before he fainted.

Buffy watched as Spike gave in. He was beaten all over, probably a couple of broken ribs and a broken nose.

Minding his cuts she hefted him up on her shoulders and carried him out of the alley.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Rudolf quickly got off and held the door open as the Slayer came into view with the fallen vampire.

"Is he all right?" he asked.

Buffy nodded as she lowered Spike into the almost non-existent back seat. "Nothing that a few stitches and some wrapping won't mend, he heals faster than most vampires."

"And why is that," the man asked trying to hide his disgust at the sight of so much bloodespecially all over the car.

"Line of Aurelius." She answered shortly and walked to her side of the car.

Rudolf nodded as if he knew what she was talking about. Looking around him he saw the people and creatures in the street looking at him.

"I'll have you know that I am a very powerful warrior—I come from a long line ofdestined to fight evil. And if any of you are creatures of evil then by George you should look out. I bloody well have no patience for soulless creatures." He said, puffing up his chest.

Then they started laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

As Buffy pulled up to the apartment complex Rudolf felt a strange shot of regret.

"We shall go out again. Fight evil. I'll bring the car." He stated. Buffy stopped the car and looked at him strangely.

"Why don't you go on with your normal life and pretend this never happened, Rudy."

Rudolf looked at her indignant. "I shall very well not forget, miss. Tonight I helped fight evil."

"You brought the car and sat shit scared while I fought evil." Buffy told him smiling.

"Well I should very well think that meant something—someone had to keep the car safe."

Buffy chuckled but he could sense the seriousness behind her chuckle. "Be grateful for the life you have."

"Begging your pardon, miss but driving Ms. Pickering to the mall does not compare to driving the get away car."

She sighed and opened the door, getting out. The man followed her pulling the back seat forward so she could retrieve Spike.

"Take my advice—I've been alive longer than you have and have seem too much shit in life to even begin to share my experiences. Get out while you can. You'll wish you could later on."

"One cannot do it alone," he told her and she lifted Spike into her arms.

"You're right," she said and smiled gently. "I have him back now—I won't be alone."

"Seems to me he's not exactly volunteering, miss."

A hard slap on his cheek told him he had crossed the line.

"Have you ever been brought back from the dead?" she asked coldly.

Holding his burning flesh he shook his head in disbelief.

"Then you wouldn't know what it's like."

With that she turned around and carried her vampire to the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Something cool and wet was upon his face and that made his eyes flutter open.

Then he realized the blackness was better as he felt pain radiate throughout his body.

"Am I dead?" he asked.

"Yup," Buffy answered and he gently tapped his nose in place. Spike groaned—why was his nose so large?

"Hold still—it won't heal right if it's not in place," she told him.

"Gently," he reminded her and she snapped it back in place.

But she was pissed and gentle was the last thing on her mind.

Funny how he could read her mood by how she touched him—had it really been fifty years and was this really not his skin?

He relaxed as he went back to cleaning the small wounds on his arms. He realized he was naked—the warmth of the room filled him.

"Why?" she asked very quietly, not looking at him.

Her long blonde locks fell on her face and in the glow of the room he could almost see that young girl she had once been.

He took a deep breath and cried out as his broken ribs made their presence felt.

"I haven't wrapped them yet," she rubbing her hand over his chest, calming him.

"Bloody ell," he whispered, reminding himself that he didn't need to breathe.

She went back to rubbing his cuts with alcohol, he watched her carefully—she was still waiting for her answer.

"Look what I did to youI promised them all I would never hurt youand a gain there you have the weight of my promise."

She didn't say anything but continued with her gentle nursing.

"It hurt, Spike." She said finally. "It hurt a lotbut at times I didn't know whether to be sad you left me or be proud of what you did."

He watched as he finished with his arms and straddled his thighs, pulling him up. He bit his lip as he went willingly, shattered bones making their presence known.

She lifted his arms, ignoring his gasp and went about to wrap him up. The smell that always surrounded her was driving him crazy. It was like talking to a ghost—she didn't smell like his Buffy--not the girl whom he had loved all those nights. Held her while she slept—little snores and all. It was sickening and he had to turn his head to stop himself from becoming nauseous.

Buffy noticed the coldness of him and instantly pulled back, keeping her distance as she quietly ties a tight knot on his bandages.

"I'm sorry..."

Spike's head shot up at her words. "At what?" he asked, confused.

Buffy didn't meet his gaze as she gathered the first aid kit back in to the large white box.

"Because I'm not the same girl you knew...those nights seem so far away, you know. I can barely remember them...only in dreams."

"Will you ever forget?" she asked him.

"Forget?" he asked confused and tightening his hold on her. She lay spooned against him in one of those nights when they stayed up all night either having wild sex or just touching and gently kissing each other.

She combed with the tips of her fingers the almost invisible hairs on his arm. "Us? Me?...When you're alive...sometime in the future."

He stopped breathing--not that he needed it but he would breath along with her, picking up her rhythm.

"Spike?" she asked, turning her head slightly to look at him. He was staring at her shoulder as if it were a new discovery.

"I...I didn't count on going on after you left again," he admit to her, finally meeting her gaze. She could see the pain in his eyes--this was not a subject that he liked.

She turned around quickly and glared at him. "You what?"

He shrugged and reached for her hot small body. "Let's not talk about it, Goldilocks--you're ruining the moment."

Buffy let him nibble on her neck and almost lost her train of thought, but her resolve got the better of her and she pushed against his chest.

"Please don't," she told him, although she didn't see his eyes she saw him physically slump.

"Don't what, pet?" he asked as he tried to get her distracted by finding her ear lobe and rolling the fleshy part between his teeth.

"Mmmm...Spike!" she got exasperated with him and scooted herself out of his reach. "You're never the one to avoid a conversation--it's usually me trying to bury something!"

Spike sighed and rolled on his back looking at the ceiling.

From where she was at, she admired the soft glow of the moon on his pallid skin. Like a siren bathing by the moonlight, there was her Greek god--one that existed only in the sheets of her bed, by the pale moon.

"You don't understand, baby..." he said, so low that it was hard to understand, but she stayed still, watching him. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks. "When you were gone...I felt dead. I've never felt deader in my life. Didn't care if I fed, if I got 'urt, if I died...never felt that way before. Not even when Dru left me. At least I had a purpose then--I wanted to kill you. But with you gone, who was I going to 'urt?" He turned his head to look at her and she almost jumped back from the pain radiating in his eyes. "I love you so much---something I don't think I tell you enough..."

Buffy crawled up to him and held his face in between her hands. "A girl never gets tired of hearing it."

He smiled and pulled her down for a kiss. Tender was the word for it---almost feather light. Full of promises and forgiveness.

He was still smiling when they parted and she tangles her hands in his bed hair. "What's so funny?" she asked, almost a whisper.

"I love when you kiss me that way," he said, closing his eyes as she continued to play with his hair.

"I know you love me Spike, and you know I love you..."

"But..." he said opening his eyes to look at her.

She was studying how the bleach blond locks looked against her skin. "Please don't let go after I die."

He said nothing as she continued to caress his hair. "I promise...only if you promise me the same," he said.

The slayer looked at him, startled. She never would've have thought that he would die before her--her life was the doomed one. He didn't have a prophecy hanging over his head or a terrible fate. He was just a vampire without a soul who could love and be tender.

"Spike, that would never..."

"Just say you promise," he interrupted her.

She looked into his eyes--those clear blue pools of love that said pages of feelings with one blink.

"I promise." she answered as she kissed him again--that same way he loved and cuddled close to sleep the last few hours before dawn.

Buffy shook herself away from those thoughts--they, meant too much and they did too little. She had broken her promise to him--the only thinghe had ever asked of her and she had broken it, but how the hell was she supposed to stay the same? Night after night making love to memories only to wake up alone, shaking and sweating.

She was mad at him for leaving her and the was mad at the powers for taking him away. But above all she was even more upset that he didn't love what she had become.

Spike saw her upset---could smell it a mile away.

Taking her small wrists in his hands he pulled her forward and made her head rest against his chest.

Buffy let herself be led. She's be damned if she took that little moment away from herself because of her stupidities.

At least she had gotten him out of hell--she did her job as a Slayer...the job as a woman who finds her lover in the deepest seas of unconsciousness was not her job.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Pet, it's like 3 in the afternoon--prime time for sleeping vamps," Spike murmured, against his pillow.

Buffy continued the tracing of air animals on his back, pecking a kiss here and a kiss there. She was having a grand time rubbing his broad back--considering it was her favorite part of his body, plus she felt she should get reacquainted with it.

"I haven't been up this early either in like fifteen years."

Spike shivered at that thought and craned his head to look at her.

She was sitting, Indian-style, in her panties and a tight black wife-beater. Her long locks pooled around her down to her waist and tickled his back whenever she leaned forward to pepper a kiss.

Last night they had just held each other--Spike didn't breath, her lack of vanilla scent was driving him crazy, so he just held her while she sighed happily in her sleep, murmuring his name once in while.

Halfway through the night she had wanted more and that had brought on vivid memories of their 24hour-long shag fests they used to have but he really wasn't really for her yet. Not that he didn't want her, it was just not...his Buffy.

"Don't say it that way," he begged her.

Buffy frowned in confusion and left her invisi-elephant half done.

"Say what?"

Spike sighed and rolled over. "The eternity stuff..."

"What? That I've been alive for like 52 years since you died...since we were together?" She bit her lip out of insecurity when she finished.

Spike closed his eyes and ran his hands through his disheveled hair. "When did you realize that you were immortal?"

Buffy pulled her legs out and stretch them before her, grabbing his hair with her big toes and giving it a affectionate pull. He grabbed her small foot and tickled the sole, making her squirm and giggle. It felt strange...for Spike. This was like it was before, it was his Buffy and suddenly he felt the urge to kiss her.

She had no clue what happened...once moment she was trying her best to win back his affection and the next he was grabbing the back of her neck and trying to kiss her.

Her instinct forgot that this was her Spike. Too many years fucking too hard for her own good and being with men she didn't give a rat's ass for.

An affectionate kiss turned into a flip him over, pin him and hold a stake to his heart.

"What the bloody 'ell are you doing, Slayer," he hissed as she pressed the sharp piece of wood that materialized out of no where to his chest. But despite the situation she had gotten better--way better, it was like she was a super Slayer, the council's perfect killing machine.

"Shut up," she spat out, hovering over him.

Spike studied her eyes--they were blank, expressionless as if she weren't there. Looking right at him but not looking at all.

"Slayer?"

The stake pressed deeper.

"Pet?"

There was no movement--just that blank staring that was driving him crazy.

"Baby?"

For some reason that did it, almost like she shook herself out of her Slayer-like trance. Buffy stared down at him, almost confused as to why she was straddling Spike with a stake pressed to his heart.

She looked down at what her hand was just about to do and she dropped it as if on fire. A small gasp escaped her mouth and she reached out, blindly, for him.

Spike just held her as she shivered and kissed his neck, reassuring herself that he was still alive.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered to his ear, and nuzzled his neck.

He just rubbed her back, comfortingly, and tenderly--like he was done so many nights.

"What's wrong, pet?" he asked as he entered the basement.

Buffy was sorting through the wet, damaged boxes in the basement.

Though she tried to wipe her tears he could see that she had been crying so he walked carefully over to her. There were still in shaky terms since Xander's wedding and the scene he put on.

"Nothing, I was just sorting through the stuff that needs to be thrown away--you know, the damaged stuff," she said almost non-caringly.

But Spike knew this little Slayer better than that--she wouldn't cry for old damaged junk.

He sat on the box opposite of her and looked over the box she was cleaning out.

It was Joyce's wedding memories. Her wedding dress, her shoes, photographs, table decorations, her father's tuxedo--all wet and all ruined.

Buffy was reaching out with shaky arm to lift the fungy-infested dress.

It must have been pretty in her time, Spike thought.

"Bet she looked beautiful that day," he said, trying his part to console her.

Buffy did say anything but held the greenish dress in her hands, looking over the details, touching the pearls and lace lightly.

It was then that Spike realized that this little Slayer still wanted to get married, she still wanted children and she had recently realized that it was all a dream.

"Yeah...she was very beautiful when young..." Buffy whispered.

"When young? Joyce was damn right delicious all the time!" Spike snorted.

The Slayer looked up at him, almost a small smile in her face. "You thought my mom looked good?"

"Well, let's just say that if you looked like that when you're her age, you won't have any trouble attracting me," he winked at her.

Buffy smiled and leaned forward, grabbing his nack and pressing her lips to his.

"Thank you," she said, after she pulled back and looked at his glazed eyes.

"Humm...fo' what, luv?" he murmured, trying to get a taste of her sweet lips once again.

"For helping me heal...for loving me and for loving my family...Angel nor Riley never did that and somehow you managed to get their love in return."

Spike gave her a sly grin. "Does that mean that all the members of the family love me?"

Buffy pulled back and folded her mother's wedding dress.

"I'm not talking about that now," she huffed, but Spike had gotten his answer that day in the basement.

"Maybe it's staying in this place that's got me all riled up," Buffy said after a while of drowning in his arms, his scent--everything about him.

Spike agreed. "You must be hungry."

Buffy nodded and then her face lit up. "I know! Just get dressed and we can go to my usual dinner table--I bet Molly and Teq are worried about me--especially Molly she always worries."

Spike starred at her as she bounced around the room, excited, running to her closet and picking out her favorite outfit. Leather everything.

She was too lost trying to decide if tonight she might go with the black leather pants that had only one pocket in the back or the one that had two that she didn't notice Spike come up behind her.

"Spike!" she screeched as she dropped her pants.

He gave her a low chuckle and bent down to retrieve the fallen items.

"Loose something, luv?"

She glared back at him.

"Why don't you try wearin' something a little...different," he suggested as he looked through her closet.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked confused. "Florals, pastels? Not me."

"Not you now...you used to wear things other than black hard leather...wouldn't be surprised if you bleached your hair along with it---that's not Buffy Summers, that's William the Bloody."

She watched as he went right by her beloved leather collection and looked through a new section that she was sure didn't belong to her...too much Mohair.

"This," he exclaimed as he pulled out a floral skirt with a soft colored halter top.

Buffy crossed her arms and glared at it. "I am so not wearing that."

Spike ignored her the way she hated and picked out nicely matching sandals. "Maybe put up your hair?" he suggested.

"Are we going to a costume party?" she hissed, walking out of the walk-in closet and towards the bathroom.

But Spike promptly followed her and shoved the outfit inside of the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike paced outside of the bathroom door--she was taking way too long and she wasn't making any noise--this bothered him.

"Slayer! What the 'ell are you doing in there?" he growled at the door. She had never taken this long to get ready--not even when she had gotten ready for the wedding--he knew, he had watched from the shadows as she put on that ridiculous pink dress.

But there was no answer--he took a deep breath and forced himself to wait a couple of more minutes--women could be fickle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy was just staring at her reflection in the mirror.

She had not worn anything but black leather since the day that Spike and Dawn had died, that same night no one could separate her from his duster.

But staring at herself now it was like looking through a looking glass--staring at a girl who lived so long ago.

Her hair was pinned to the top with a few escaping tendrils, her neck, arms and back exposed to the racy yet delicate halter top. Her curves where nicely hugged by the feminine skirt that reached her knee, showing off her nicely shaped pale legs and nicely decorated tiny feet.

Something was wrong--her nails! She had to do her nails.

When was the last time she had painted her nails in anything but black...and even that she had stopped long ago. They were chipped and pale--discolored.

She cringed and opened the botekin, trying to find a nail polish.

To her surprise she found ten of them--different shades for each occasion.

She did a speed fast manicure and covered her nails with a clear gloss to they would look presentable. She made a note to take time out and actually file and buff them later on.

Never did it occur to her that she was actually worried about the way she looked...in over fifty years.

She did a quick run of her face--she didn't own any make up but opening another door of the bathroom counter she discovered an entire case of it.

She silently cursed and thanked Rocco for his look on detail.

So now she stood all done. Hair, clothes, makeup, nails, shoes..."Ok, Cinderella--it's now or never," she murmured to herself.

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike let out a sigh of relief when he heard the bathroom door open.

"'bout time," he growled but stopped mid stride as he saw her emerge.

His jaw hit the floor.

She looked...well she was...

"You're so beautiful..." he whispered as she cringed under his gaze. Buffy shrugged and tried to fix the top that had nothing wrong with it.

"It's been a long time...a very long time since anyone has looked at me that way," she said, trying not to blush under Spike's gaping mouth.

"Well..." Spike shook himself off his trance and grabbed the bottle he had left on top of the dresser. "Here--use this."

Buffy eyed the bottle. Vanilla scented perfume. She hadn't worn perfume in years--she wondered if she would be allergic to it now, and this used to be the brand she had always wanted, the expensive designer one, she had always settled for the cheaper one.

"Are you sure I won't smell like a harlot?" she asked, looking up at him.

Spike chuckled and took the bottle from her hands, spritzing some on her neck, the back of her knees and her open back.

"Wrists?" she asked, lifting her arms.

"Nope--let those smell like blood circulation," he grinned at her.

"You're a pig," she spat out at him.

"I know," he answered.

"I love you," she smiled.

"I know that too...now, where are we going?" he asked, pulling on a leather coat he had found in his side of the closet--it was not as long as the duster, it was not the duster but it'll do.

Buffy grinned. "They're not going to recognize me when they see me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Teq wiped the counter for the 100th time that night as he cleared the glasses for the next dirty drunk who wanted to get re-wasted.

Molly popped her head from the kitchen.

"Is she here yet?" she asked.

Teq looked around the bar/restaurant and shook his head. "Nope."

"Yus, talking 'bout the Slayer?" Old Barney asked as he was poured another shot of whiskey.

Teq nodded. "Sent a couple of boys to her place last night, they came back telling stories 'bout how the whole place was destroyed, as if someone was lookin' for something."

Barney shook his white head. "It's a damn shame, it's what that is, young thing like her livin' all alone in that place--something's bound to be going wrong wid'that."

"I'm with ya, Barney--she's a good kid, must be a pain in ass to be immortal and loose everyone you care about, wondering about the earth feelin' sorry for yourself."

Barney agreed with the bartender as he drank.

"Poor thing--saved my drunk hide one time, out in the alley. You know me, here you carry a stake wherever you go, but I was too drunk to grab it--out of nowhere she come' and dusted the thing before I could blink my eye," he said pointing at his one eye.

"She's helped us here too, once or twice, when he have...unwanted company."

Both men shared a nod of agreement until Teq was called to pour another drink.

He was pouring the drink for a couple of college students was were entirely too drunk and were probably going to be dead by the end of tonight since they had to walk home when the blondes entered.

The men in the place eyes her appreciatively, some whistled, some gave the bad eye to the young man with her.

Teq looked up from were he was at, took a second to drink in her curves and gave her a smile.

"Evenin' sweetheart, how can I help you tonight?"

The blonde smiled back, almost devilish.

"Teq, is that the way you treat old friends?"

Teq had to blink three times before he realized that the beautiful woman before him was actually the gloomy, leather wearing slayer he had grown fond of.

"Holy shit, Slayer!"

Some heads turned and had the same statement of shock in their faces.

"She's here?" Molly was heard from the back.

"Molly, get out here and take a look at this--yu' wont believe your eyes." he said.

The plump woman came tumbling out of the back doors carrying a large plate of Buffalo Wings.

"Buffy? Buffy! We're have you been! And look at you all dolled up, doll and with a gent!" she cried out, placing the plate down.

Buffy smiled and let go of Spike's hand to return the hug of the large smelly woman.

"Sorry I made you worry, Molly," the slayer answered.

"Let me take a look at you," the woman said, happily. "Well ain't you pretty! You sure as hell fooled us!" she eyed Spike with caution. "And who's the gent? He be treating you right, Slayer--aint he?"

Buffy smiled and looked back at Spike who was more like glaring at the men that were checking her out.

"Spike!"

The vampire looked back at her.

"This is Molly and Teq--the owners of the joint," Buffy said, smiling.

Spike mouthed 'joint?' back at her. He'd never heard her use this much slang...unless it was valley-girl slang and that he found cute.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him and grabbed his arm, pulling forward.

"Well, ain't he the gent you came in with last time?" Teq asked confused and made Spike's nostrils.

"Only in flesh," Spike commented dryly.

"No Teq...this is Spike," she said slowly.

Teq looked clueless for a moment then his eyes almost bulged out. "Well I'll be dammed...William the Bloody in the flesh and undead." He let out a thick chuckle.

"How did you do it, Buffy?" Molly asked the slayer as she looked over Spike. The vampire squirmed as he was inspected by the other two and various nosy onlookers.

"How's everyone doing?" Spike asked annoyed.

"Don't mind him, death make people cranky, I should know," Buffy put in for him as he reluctantly took a seat by the bar.

"Somethin' strong, mate," Spike told Teq.

The man nodded quickly on pulled out a large whiskey glass, filling it to the top.

"It's a long story, Molly--why don't you give me two of the usual?" Buffy pleaded with the woman. Without further though she agreed and quickly walked out the back door.

Buffy and Spike invaded the nearest empty booth, smoking section of course.

She looked around nervously—very aware of her outfit and the eyes on her, not used to the rough wool seat against her back. She pulled out a cigarette to calm her nerves.

Before she could light it, Spike pulled it out of her mouth in lightening speed. She gaped at him, reminding her body not to beat up or kill the attacker.

"What the hell was that for?" she hissed.

Spike crumbled the cigarette in his fist, letting it crumble on the
ash tray.

"It's bad for you," he simply said. "And my Buffy didn't smoke—you'll stink up the outfit."

She bit her lip at his words. His Buffy didn't smoke.

She was no longer that girl and that made her want to do one of two things. Beat the shit out of him for telling her that or strive to return to that state of mind.

She fidgeted with her hands, not knowing what to do with them, she was usually smoking and taking shots before her dinner arrived but now she had no clue what she should do with them, what she used to do with them.

Her hand fidgeting was stopped as two cold palms enveloped her small fists.

"You smell good," he said quietly.

She gulped and avoided his eyes. What was she supposed to say to do—she was sure at one point she would've known, but now all that came to mind was pulling her hands free and running away—so fast that he'd never catch her.

After giving up on nothing interesting on the table she looked up to him.

"Why are you trembling?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side the way she clearly remembered.

She took a deep breath and gulped. "ISpike, I haven't been that girl you remembered in a long time. I'm trying, I really am"

He stopped her by bringing her small shaking hands to his cool lips and kissing her knuckles.

"I don't want you to pretend," he whispered against her skin. The way that it made her flush made him smirk—this was the girl who would get all hot and bothered around him.

She licked her lips nervously. "Then what do you want me to do?"

He shrugged but never broke her gaze. "Just be Buffy."

And she would've answered that, really she would've but the food got there and the plates got in the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

"It was good—it was very good," Spike said as they walked down the dark street, bellies full, including fresh blood for him from a local butcher.

She made a face. "The blood or the food?"

He chuckled and pulled her against him for a peck on her forehead. "The food—haven't had bloomin' onion and buffalo wings that good in a long time."

Buffy settled happily against his chest. "Been eating there for a couple of decades—even when I wasn't living in L.A. I would visit Molly and Teq."

"Sowhere are we going?" he asked, looking around the neighborhood.

She straightened up and pulled him the other direction. "There's someone I want you to meet."

Spike arched his eyebrow at her but followed any ways.

They had decided in a cab after Spike coaxed Buffy from stealing a car. Now they were in the nicer part of L.A.—the suburbs and for some reason she went really quiet and jumpy.

He wanted to ask so bad who or what they were going to meet but it was her secret and her right to surprise him.

They made their stop in front of a relatively average house, with the lights still on and a small dog that wagged his tail at then rather than barked.

"Who lives here?" he whispered as she rang the doorbell.

She didn't answer him but straightened up her shirt and took a deep breath.

The door was answered by a tall man, in his early fifties with small reading glasses. Though his age Spike could see that he had been a very good looking man and fit one in his days.

He had a book in his hand and blinked at them.

Buffy smiled at him and he relaxed.

"Well hello there, Aunt Buffy," the man said smiling.

"Hello, Connor," she greeted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

TBC..