"I love you."
Spike looked at her, not moving. He'd heard the words, but for a moment it was as if he couldn't understand them. Attempting to recover, he asked "I'm dreaming again, aren't I?"
"Nope," Buffy said, snuggling closer to him. "And even if you were, would it matter now?"
She grinned, and stretched one arm above her head. The night had been full of discoveries for both of them, and she found that, looking back, there wasn't a single thing about what had happened between them that didn't just feel right to her. She turned her head, and looked at him, the smile still firmly set on her face.
He lay on his side, his head resting on his arm. His eyes were half closed, and she saw that a single tear had touched his cheek.
"What's wrong?"
He sat up, and wiped the tears away. Laughing, he said, "Nothing. Everything's right, for the first time in a very, very long time."
"I love you you too, Buffy."
"I know."
---
As they dressed, Buffy said, "You realise we have to tell everyone else, right?"
Spike grinned, "Yeah. God, I'm looking forward to that. Especially if the whelp is there."
"I wish you'd stop calling him that."
"Oh, come on, it's a term of endearment." He looked at her, and saw she wasn't buying it. "Alright, alright. I'll stop."
"Good." Buffy finished dressing, and said, "I wish I didn't have to go, but I've got work in the morning."
"I know. So, we're meeting at your house later?"
"Well, actually I was thinking maybe you should come home with me." Buffy saw the suggestive smile on Spike's face, and added, "You could have the couch. I just don't like the idea of you being alone here. You know, if, um, it comes back."
"I think I'll be fine. Besides," he said, the smile spreading across his face again, "I don't think I'd be able to stay on the couch."
---
Spike slept, and dreamed. He was in the same field as before, but there were no bodies. The air still smelled of blood, but as far as he could tell he was the only thing there, living or dead.
"What is this?" he said to himself.
"The future."
The voice was soft, and Spike found he couldn't locate its source. "Who are you? Where are you? And what do you mean, 'the future'?" he asked.
"We are everywhere. What you see here is one possible future. A future we hope to avoid," came the response.
A touch of anger entered Spike's voice as he said, "Bloody wonderful. Now you're in my dreams, too?"
"We apologise, but it was the only way we could contact you."
"Why not just show up in my crypt again? Didn't seem to have any problem with that before."
"We are not what you think," the voice said, and Spike realised that it was different. It was only a single voice, not like he'd heard before, and the voice lacked any sort of menace.
"Who are you, then?"
"Normally, we would say that we are your enemy. But things have changed, haven't they?"
"Look," Spike said, making an effort to keep the annoyance from his voice, "the riddles are all well and good, but since you came looking for me, you must have something you want to tell me. So why not just do it?"
He heard the laughter then, sweet and soft, and despite everything he found himself smiling because of it. "You know that you're different, now. But, you don't know exactly how different. We can see and know all things, but for a few beings that are like us. And you, now."
"I don't understand."
"It is within our power to see the through the currents of time, to chart the course of possible futures. But our sight is blind to you. In you has been created something we don't fully understand. But, if we are unable to see you," the voice said, swelling in strength, taking on an authority that spoke of power, "so too are others blind to you. And in that, there is power. Power to change future events, to decide the course of the flow of time."
Spike found he badly wanted a cigarette. He realised he was tired of dealing with beings like this, who had all the answers he could ever want, but doled them out in riddles. "So what do you want from me?"
"To help you," the voice stated plainly.
"The one that did this to you chose you because it saw the potential for this. However, it also knew that your love for the Slayer would keep you predictable, even if it couldn't be completely certain of your actions. What it has told you is essentially correct, a being of unimaginable power is already trying to force it's way into many dimensions. And if it is not stopped, the outcome will be as your visitor has said."
"However, it has other reasons for coming to you, for uniting the forces of good and evil against the coming chaos. It does want to defeat the chaos, but its plans are not simply to seal the chaos away. It wants you, and the Slayer, to destroy it. We would not be displeased by that, but the being that leads you to that fate has other goals in mind as well. What you see here is a result of those plans."
"Do not trust what it tells you. Trust yourself, and your friends, and find your own solution to the problems at hand. And remember, that between order and chaos, there is balance."
The voice went silent, and Spike called out, "Wait!"
For a moment, there was no response, then "We must go. If we stay her any longer, we risk alerting our enemy to our plans."
"Just tell me one thing. How is it that you can't see me?"
The voice sighed. "We don't know. Our best reasoning on the subject is that, by linking you to the Slayer, our enemy has managed to change the course of your future so greatly, that it has removed you from the course of your destiny. Your future is yours, and yours alone now."
"But why only me? Why not Buffy too?"
"In that," the voice said, growing faint, "only time will tell."
---
It was already dark when Spike woke up. He usually only slept a few hours at a time, and the combination of the length of his slumber, and the revelations of the dream, made him slow to get moving.
As he was getting dressed, Buffy entered his crypt.
"Back to not knocking, are we?" he said.
"I did knock, actually. Where have you been? We've been waiting for you at my house for over two hours."
Spike sighed, "I had another visitor last night." Seeing the look of worry on her face, he added, "This one wasn't like the other."
Turning to her, he said "We need to talk. Now."
Spike relayed the events of the dream to her, and some of the guesses he had made about their meaning. She listened, and asked when he'd finished, "How do you know we can trust this?"
"Call it a feeling. If you could have heard its voice, Buffy," he paused, finding it difficult to articulate just how different this new being had been, "Look, just trust me. I believe it."
"So what do we do now?"
Spike smiled at her, "Well, I was thinking I'd kiss you, then we'd head over to your house. We've got plans to make."
"One thing," Buffy said, looking at the floor. "I kind of filled everyone in already on... us."
"How'd they take it?"
"Not well, but they're dealing. Xander was the worst. Don't worry, I think I managed to calm him down."
"The last thing I am worried about right now, pet, is how the boy reacted," Spike said as he pulled on his duster. He paused for a moment, "Ok, that's a lie. What did he say?"
As the two of them walked out of the crypt, a single pair of blood-red eyes followed their movements.
---
Another battle ended, only this time, the defenders had lost. Living darkness spread like a wave, sweeping over the bodies of the dead and dying. More fissures appeared, adding to the growing flood. When nothing was left in the realm to consume, the flood receded, and the walls that defined the dimension crumbled, leaving only a few fragments of what had been the home to billions of living creatures. Soon, the darkness swept over those, too, until nothing at all remained. No light, no life, no sign that the place had ever even existed. Only darkness.
---
"It is time."
A solitary creature heard the call, as it followed Buffy and Spike back to her house. Its form began to solidify, taking on the shape of a man. It felt some amount of control return to it, and it blinked, its eyes returning to the color they had been before he as taken. He shook his head, trying to clear it, forming his own thoughts for the first time in over 400 years. He could no longer hear the mass of thoughts that had been twisting in his mind, found that he was alone, and in control. He wanted to run, to cry, to celebrate his freedom, but knew there were more important things he had to do. He set out after the two he had been following, trying desperately to catch up to them before the darkness took him again.
"Please, God," he thought as he ran, "please let them be the ones."
---
Notes: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. This ugly thing called real life, possibly the scariest creature I've ever encountered, decided to make itself felt over the last couple of weeks. As always, if you read and enjoy, or if you read and hate what I've written, or you read and think "Wow, it would have been cool if he'd done this", post a review and let me know.
Spike looked at her, not moving. He'd heard the words, but for a moment it was as if he couldn't understand them. Attempting to recover, he asked "I'm dreaming again, aren't I?"
"Nope," Buffy said, snuggling closer to him. "And even if you were, would it matter now?"
She grinned, and stretched one arm above her head. The night had been full of discoveries for both of them, and she found that, looking back, there wasn't a single thing about what had happened between them that didn't just feel right to her. She turned her head, and looked at him, the smile still firmly set on her face.
He lay on his side, his head resting on his arm. His eyes were half closed, and she saw that a single tear had touched his cheek.
"What's wrong?"
He sat up, and wiped the tears away. Laughing, he said, "Nothing. Everything's right, for the first time in a very, very long time."
"I love you you too, Buffy."
"I know."
---
As they dressed, Buffy said, "You realise we have to tell everyone else, right?"
Spike grinned, "Yeah. God, I'm looking forward to that. Especially if the whelp is there."
"I wish you'd stop calling him that."
"Oh, come on, it's a term of endearment." He looked at her, and saw she wasn't buying it. "Alright, alright. I'll stop."
"Good." Buffy finished dressing, and said, "I wish I didn't have to go, but I've got work in the morning."
"I know. So, we're meeting at your house later?"
"Well, actually I was thinking maybe you should come home with me." Buffy saw the suggestive smile on Spike's face, and added, "You could have the couch. I just don't like the idea of you being alone here. You know, if, um, it comes back."
"I think I'll be fine. Besides," he said, the smile spreading across his face again, "I don't think I'd be able to stay on the couch."
---
Spike slept, and dreamed. He was in the same field as before, but there were no bodies. The air still smelled of blood, but as far as he could tell he was the only thing there, living or dead.
"What is this?" he said to himself.
"The future."
The voice was soft, and Spike found he couldn't locate its source. "Who are you? Where are you? And what do you mean, 'the future'?" he asked.
"We are everywhere. What you see here is one possible future. A future we hope to avoid," came the response.
A touch of anger entered Spike's voice as he said, "Bloody wonderful. Now you're in my dreams, too?"
"We apologise, but it was the only way we could contact you."
"Why not just show up in my crypt again? Didn't seem to have any problem with that before."
"We are not what you think," the voice said, and Spike realised that it was different. It was only a single voice, not like he'd heard before, and the voice lacked any sort of menace.
"Who are you, then?"
"Normally, we would say that we are your enemy. But things have changed, haven't they?"
"Look," Spike said, making an effort to keep the annoyance from his voice, "the riddles are all well and good, but since you came looking for me, you must have something you want to tell me. So why not just do it?"
He heard the laughter then, sweet and soft, and despite everything he found himself smiling because of it. "You know that you're different, now. But, you don't know exactly how different. We can see and know all things, but for a few beings that are like us. And you, now."
"I don't understand."
"It is within our power to see the through the currents of time, to chart the course of possible futures. But our sight is blind to you. In you has been created something we don't fully understand. But, if we are unable to see you," the voice said, swelling in strength, taking on an authority that spoke of power, "so too are others blind to you. And in that, there is power. Power to change future events, to decide the course of the flow of time."
Spike found he badly wanted a cigarette. He realised he was tired of dealing with beings like this, who had all the answers he could ever want, but doled them out in riddles. "So what do you want from me?"
"To help you," the voice stated plainly.
"The one that did this to you chose you because it saw the potential for this. However, it also knew that your love for the Slayer would keep you predictable, even if it couldn't be completely certain of your actions. What it has told you is essentially correct, a being of unimaginable power is already trying to force it's way into many dimensions. And if it is not stopped, the outcome will be as your visitor has said."
"However, it has other reasons for coming to you, for uniting the forces of good and evil against the coming chaos. It does want to defeat the chaos, but its plans are not simply to seal the chaos away. It wants you, and the Slayer, to destroy it. We would not be displeased by that, but the being that leads you to that fate has other goals in mind as well. What you see here is a result of those plans."
"Do not trust what it tells you. Trust yourself, and your friends, and find your own solution to the problems at hand. And remember, that between order and chaos, there is balance."
The voice went silent, and Spike called out, "Wait!"
For a moment, there was no response, then "We must go. If we stay her any longer, we risk alerting our enemy to our plans."
"Just tell me one thing. How is it that you can't see me?"
The voice sighed. "We don't know. Our best reasoning on the subject is that, by linking you to the Slayer, our enemy has managed to change the course of your future so greatly, that it has removed you from the course of your destiny. Your future is yours, and yours alone now."
"But why only me? Why not Buffy too?"
"In that," the voice said, growing faint, "only time will tell."
---
It was already dark when Spike woke up. He usually only slept a few hours at a time, and the combination of the length of his slumber, and the revelations of the dream, made him slow to get moving.
As he was getting dressed, Buffy entered his crypt.
"Back to not knocking, are we?" he said.
"I did knock, actually. Where have you been? We've been waiting for you at my house for over two hours."
Spike sighed, "I had another visitor last night." Seeing the look of worry on her face, he added, "This one wasn't like the other."
Turning to her, he said "We need to talk. Now."
Spike relayed the events of the dream to her, and some of the guesses he had made about their meaning. She listened, and asked when he'd finished, "How do you know we can trust this?"
"Call it a feeling. If you could have heard its voice, Buffy," he paused, finding it difficult to articulate just how different this new being had been, "Look, just trust me. I believe it."
"So what do we do now?"
Spike smiled at her, "Well, I was thinking I'd kiss you, then we'd head over to your house. We've got plans to make."
"One thing," Buffy said, looking at the floor. "I kind of filled everyone in already on... us."
"How'd they take it?"
"Not well, but they're dealing. Xander was the worst. Don't worry, I think I managed to calm him down."
"The last thing I am worried about right now, pet, is how the boy reacted," Spike said as he pulled on his duster. He paused for a moment, "Ok, that's a lie. What did he say?"
As the two of them walked out of the crypt, a single pair of blood-red eyes followed their movements.
---
Another battle ended, only this time, the defenders had lost. Living darkness spread like a wave, sweeping over the bodies of the dead and dying. More fissures appeared, adding to the growing flood. When nothing was left in the realm to consume, the flood receded, and the walls that defined the dimension crumbled, leaving only a few fragments of what had been the home to billions of living creatures. Soon, the darkness swept over those, too, until nothing at all remained. No light, no life, no sign that the place had ever even existed. Only darkness.
---
"It is time."
A solitary creature heard the call, as it followed Buffy and Spike back to her house. Its form began to solidify, taking on the shape of a man. It felt some amount of control return to it, and it blinked, its eyes returning to the color they had been before he as taken. He shook his head, trying to clear it, forming his own thoughts for the first time in over 400 years. He could no longer hear the mass of thoughts that had been twisting in his mind, found that he was alone, and in control. He wanted to run, to cry, to celebrate his freedom, but knew there were more important things he had to do. He set out after the two he had been following, trying desperately to catch up to them before the darkness took him again.
"Please, God," he thought as he ran, "please let them be the ones."
---
Notes: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. This ugly thing called real life, possibly the scariest creature I've ever encountered, decided to make itself felt over the last couple of weeks. As always, if you read and enjoy, or if you read and hate what I've written, or you read and think "Wow, it would have been cool if he'd done this", post a review and let me know.