By Kalika
Disclaimer: A dancing hamster stopped by my house yesterday and told me I didn't own BTVS or any characters. Shocking, isn't it?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Spoilers: 3 years after Season 6
Summary: World War III has occurred. The scoobies are all dead except for Buffy and Spike, who now live in Manhattan, New York.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Water. It flowed. It flew. It iced her heart. Taking nothing, it drowned her in her own tears. But it gave life. Little bubbles rose as air tried to suffocate her. Cold liquid filled her lungs. The girl reached for the blue sky above her. But it was so so far away, so impossible to take. She cried out, but no one heard.
*+*+*+*+*+*
A blur of color and sparks. A flash of rainbow lights. People still lived. They still knew life. And they treat it well. Buffy admired them greatly. They never let go. Even after millions of people died, possible family and friends, they still knew how to have fun. Only she didn't. She had escaped from it all. She hated it. She hated life. But she did not want to die. Not like this. Not with Spike.
Sitting alone at the bar of Digital Mind, a nightclub, she lifted the shot of vodka to her painted lips. The taste was bitter and burned her throat, but it left a warm, funny feeling in your throat. Buffy tried to remind herself life was like that too. It may be bitter, but it may be bittersweet. With a hint of sugar.
She still breathed. She still fought. But it wasn't enough. Everyone was gone. Everyone, but Spike and her.
These people, they knew nothing of the evil lurking out there. The evil that she stood against every damn night. For once, she just wanted to go out and party with her friends. She didn't choose this life. It choose her. Buffy wished her life was The Gift. Then she could just give it away to someone who actually wanted it. Nothing was as easy as that. In her dream world, there was no evil. There were no vampires and innocent people.
And it was a lie. She knew that and it hurt. It burned. Just like the vodka in her glass.
Their bodies moved with the beat. Hips swayed and arms flew. Grinning smiles and sparkling eyes passed her by. Girls and guys alike took no notice to her. She was just another person hanging out at the nightclub.
Did I disappoint you
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go without
Well it's...
Buffy wanted to moved along with them, forget all her troubles. She didn't because she knew she couldn't.
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Fire. It burned. It seared. It blazed across his skin. The pain worsen by the second. He wished she would come and save him. He wished she loved him. But the fire consumed him and ate away at his insides. The emotional damage was worse. He hated what she had done to him. He hated what he had become.
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Across the club, a shadow watched the slayer intensively.
The Digital Mind was a smoke-free building, but many had their cigars out, puffing smoke after smoke. He had decided not to. Because Buffy didn't like it. Spike had done everything for her. Gave up everything sodding thing he had. But nothing was enough for this girl. She wanted more. She always wanted more because she could never have more.
That was his Buffy.
Young men approached her, but she always shooed them away. Spike was pleased. She didn't have eyes for anyone else. She didn't feel she needed a boyfriend like every other girl on the planet. The petite blonde always held it together. She almost gave up when she was resurrected, but Spike believed in her and she got through. She would get through now too.
Tranquillized by fear, Buffy was crying a river inside. But she didn't let it show on the outside. The day her friends died, that was the day she was suppose to die, but he wouldn't let her. He had pulled her away from the bleeding depths of the abyss, the blackness of the sky.
Had she been thankful?
No.
She screamed and kicked like a spoiled child who wanted candy, but he wouldn't let her go back. Ever.
The vampire knew they weren't the perfect couple. They weren't suppose to be. But Buffy wanted him and he wanted Buffy.
Late nights were spent comforting her horrible nightmares. Morning were spent staring at her sullen face. A nice apartment in the nicer part of Manhattan. She didn't care. If only he knew a spell to bring them back.
Too late
Tonight
To drag the past out into the light
We're one, but we're not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other
One...
That was the past and this was the present. Only Buffy didn't understand.
*+*+*+*+*+*
Wind. Forces of the sky. Rot in hell. It flowed through her hair. It was gentle, loving, tranquil, like the lovely lake in front of her. This was the life she wanted. This was the life she longed for. The one in Heaven. Soft breezes blew against her face, her delicate skin. And the comfort only left her wanting more.
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Buffy felt a figure move behind her. She whirled around in her stool to face her invader.
It was only Spike.
Only.
But he was all that she had left in the world. The only one she knew. The only friend she had. Regret filled her eyes. His eyes shined softly and he sighed, a little smile appearing on his cheeks. She swallowed hard, knowing she could not resist him.
The two blondes stood, just looking at each other, absorbing the other's thoughts. Sweetness, as in oranges. Bitterness, as in the life they led. Sourness, as in the swelling of their hearts.
He was the first to move.
Spike slowly lifted his hand and held it out to her.
Buffy stared down at the outstretched pale fingers.
The very fingers she loved every night. The ones she despised in the morning.
Sorrow washed over her. How could she do such things to him? He took everything she threw at him. And he still loved her. No matter what, he had promised he would always be there.
Buffy smiled. She was so thankful to have him here. He was her everything, her world, her mind, her soul, her heart. How could she forget him?
She took his hand and clasped it tenderly. Gazing up at his bright blue globes, she kissed his cheek. And pulled away quickly, turning red.
Spike almost laughed at her girlish behavior.
Then she was serious. "I'm ready."
"For what?" He asked.
"For Death."
The vampire stopped suddenly. What was she saying? He looked back at her smiling face.
"What?!" He grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her roughly. "Don't say that!" He hissed.
She only smiled and said "To kill her, you have to love her."
*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Earth. The very eternal being. The foundation of our world. Mother Nature. After all, it wasn't the Fates who controlled everything, it was Mother Nature. Things always went her way. Crisp leaves fell, water lilies sang, and the world kept turning. Day after day, the world lived. And it would live forever.
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If all of the strength
And all of the courage
Come and lift me from this place
I know I can love you much better than this
Full of grace
Full of grace
My love
*+*+*+*+*+*+*
The slayer sat with her vampire on the soft bed in their apartment.
"You sure?" Spike asked her, still holding her hand.
She drew in a shakily breath. "I'm sure." She said.
The two had decided it was for the best. In the end, Spike gave in. He always would. He always gave Buffy whatever she wanted.
Nodding slowly, he laid on down on the bed. She looked up at him with long, pleading eyes. He vamped out, lowering his head closer and closer to her precious neck. Spike stared at her with a ferocious yellow glare. She wasn't scared at all.
Her tender flesh gave away as his teeth sank in, drinking warm, delicious, slayer blood. He drank slowly, savoring the taste.
'Ambrosia' He declared. It was beautiful, it was wonderful. He took all her memories, preserving them for another time. And he knew this was the end of the road. They had gone far enough. But they couldn't turn back. Not ever. They would keep on going. He could make it last forever. Just for her. Just for his Buffy. And then they would rest peacefully and be happy.
"Spike..." He heard her moan his name.
The vamp continued to drink. Buffy's body became cold under his. Her arms hung limp and pale as he sucked the life out of her. He was taking her away from all the troubles, all the hurt, and all the betrayal.
And then they would be happy.
Spike broke off, her blood still fresh on his sweet lips as he kissed her. The Kiss of Death.
Buffy's eyes drooped down as she touched his face gently.
"Spike...love you." She whispered softly into his hand. He launched himself at her again, finishing the last bit of blood in her veins as she died. Forever gone from this world. And no one knew of her courage and her strength that saved this place from Hell. And they wouldn't know. What price did she pay? What did she give up?
Absolutely nothing. Buffy had gotten everything she wanted in Spike. For her, it wasn't too late to see that. Now, she was well.
His slayer had died.
Spike spread her body out onto the satin silk bed covers. He walked to the closed window.
Throwing open the curtains, he let the sunlight in.
~~~
Nothing.
He had expected to die in burning pain and agony, with the sun boiling his pale flesh. Spike would cry, cry for his pain and Buffy and the world's. Tearing at the hurt from inside, severing him from everything within. At last he would die and be left along in serenity.
But nothing happened.
He blinked, letting the sun ray's reflect off his face. It felt warm and refreshing, like soft wet Alabama red mud oozing between his toes. He didn't sizzle or burn. Puzzled by his strange discovery, Spike turned around to face his dead Buffy.
Except she wasn't dead.
There stood his Buffy, alive and well. Upright on the bed, she had her arms crossed and her hair tossed back onto her bare shoulders. The slayer grinned down at her prey. She smirked at his stunned expression.
"Hey, you." Buffy said, smacking her lips in flirtation.
Spike grinned back. "Hey yourself." He said.
Death wasn't in their vocabulary. They were immortal beings, destined to live forever. It saddened him and gladden at the same time. He wondered if Buffy felt the same. Spike could still taste her on his lashing tongue, everything that he stole and taken. It didn't matter he was a vampire. It didn't matter she was the slayer. It didn't matter they were both messed. They belonged together.
With that, she left down into his open, welcoming arms and laughed in pure joy.
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