Disclaimer: With incredible force, her hand slaps me across the face. "You
wanna start something, bitch?" Anyanka Faith's head starts moving snake-
like, waiting for my rebuttal. "No, slut, I think I'm gonna finish
something!" I ball up my fist, then punch the cock-sucking whore in her
stupid little nose. A steady stream of crimson blood starts to pour down
her nose, which is currently being covered by her damn hand. "You are sooo
going to regret that, beeatch!" Her hands reach up and grab my hair,
pulling as hard as she can. I do the same. Soon we're in a stalemate,
neither one willing to give up. "I just have to make this clear before I
pistol whip your ass," I scream, my scalp tingling with pain, "Joss Whedon,
who created Buffy the Vampire Slayer, is much better than J.K. Goddamned
Rowling!" "Oh sure bitch," she wails, digging her talon-like nails into my
head, "Just to let you in on the 411, I fucked your husband and he's the
daddy of my baby!" Pushing her on the ground roughly, I stand above her,
rage building up in me. "BITCH," I scream, "MY HUSBAND AIN'T THE DADDY OF
YOUR BABY!" I'm gonna stab her, I'm gonna stab her good.
Rating: R- warning warning warning warning warning warning suggested sex warning warning warning
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.
Author's Notes: More, much more! Yes, there is more. Whoa, I'm getting near the endpoint here, sort of. I hope you like the story, how it's going, and appreciate what I do in this chapter (hint: look in the disclaimer, tee hee hee). I still love getting reviews. Which, by the way, brings me to a proposition to all you who read my story. I have an idea for a sequel ready, and possibly a third installment. But, I also have another idea for a new story that has nothing to do with the plot line and characters from "Exit, Stage Left". So, here's what's going to happen. You get me 100 reviews by the time I finish this story, and I'll go on with the sequel. If not, I start in with the new story, which I thought up while I was incredibly depressed one day. Just a warning, and I plan on going through with it. I love you all.
PS: The disclaimer was taken from Anyanka Faith and my daily life. No, just kidding. I stole it from a generic version of Jerry Springer. And the whole "My husband ain't . . ." was stolen from "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back". I have no problem with J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter series. I appreciate the effort she's put forth to make reading popular again. My disclaimers don't really mean anything; I just have some fun. And just to point out, I don't have a husband, and she doesn't have a baby. I don't think.
Chapter Thirteen- Admitting the Truth
Ugh! Burritos are not my friends!
Feeling slightly nauseated, Buffy leaned against a mausoleum wall, regretting her choice to take thirds on Olivia's special Mexican food. The moment passed, and she was on her feet, prepared to kill any evil creature that dared challenge her.
"C'mon, doesn't anything wanna piece of me tonight? Vampires? Demons? Creatures of the night? Hey, speak up, and I won't fight back for the first five minutes! Great deal, huh?" Not hearing a response, she frowned and shoved her hands into her coat pockets.
Life stinks. Not one Big Bad wants me to kick the shit outta them.
Actually, revise that statement. Life doesn't stink, Big Bads do.
Smiling at herself, Buffy backflipped onto a stone grave and sat down, ready to relax. From her vantage point, she had a perfect view of downtown Sunnydale, which was merely a sea of colored lights shining in the night.
Hmmm, this is nice. Can't believe I was ready to leave a few days ago.
Since the birth of Laila, Buffy had been incredibly busy. There was training with Giles, research to find the newest evil, dinners at her friends' homes, and patrolling. But, what they didn't know was she was secretly searching the classifieds for a job and a place to live.
It had been three days since she decided to stay, to give up the façade of Phoenix and resume her life in Sunnydale, picking up where she had left off. The Scooby gang had no idea that their plan worked. She hadn't told anyone because she had to get used to the idea before telling all. And that might be a while.
Another tummy rumbling started, and Buffy lay on the cold cement surface, rubbing her stomach to ease the discomfort.
I haven't eaten this well since I left, and I think the good food is gonna make me sick.
Monday night, the evening after Laila's birth, Buffy had her first meal at Giles and Olivia's home, a quiet yet spacious apartment on the good side of town. Tuesday evening, she invaded the Harris home, then went on demon patrol with Xander, reminiscing on their old battles. And today, Wednesday, the Scooby gang broke tradition and had dinner at Willow and Tara's house, followed shortly by a welcome home party for the newborn.
Wednesday? Is it Wednesday? That means I've been here . . . one week.
In one week, I've changed my mind and decided to stay. Damn, that says A LOT about my convictions!
Someone in the area interrupted her thoughts as she lay on the sarcophagus. Her Slayer sense started going off. It was a vampire, one close by, trying hard to sneak up on her. She lay still, and carefully pulled a stake out of her pocket.
Here we go! That's what I'm talkin' about!
"Hey," she spoke, as she felt the vampire grow closer, "You know it's not very nice to sneak up on people while their resting. Guess I'll just have to teach you with a little rough and tumble."
Prepared to fight, she lay on the stone surface, waiting for it to make the first move. Then, her Slayer sense stopped, the vampire having left the area.
Something was off. It was just a little too quiet. Her senses had stopped too suddenly.
It was planning something.
She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the sarcophagus, scanning the cemetery with her eyes.
Before she could do anything, her Slayer sense kicked in full blast, and a cold hand snuck up behind her and covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming.
"Luv," it whispered darkly into her ear, "You know I was never a 'rough and tumble' kind of lad. I preferred 'cheap liquor and hurricane force tumble' followed by you calling me 'evil' and leaving me alone."
"SPIKE!" she screamed, pushing his hand away from her face, and turning her head to look at him, "You are SUCH a bastard!"
He was grinning, very pleased with himself. "I've always known that. And I never tried to hide it."
"I was so gonna stake you!"
Laughing out loud, he walked around the stone block so he was facing her. "You wouldn't, and you couldn't." He took her hands and pulled her up. "I'm just too damn adorable."
Rolling her eyes, she pushed him and quickly began to walk away. "Bastard." She whispered when she was far away.
"What?" he asked loudly, his vampire hearing picking up the words.
She turned, still angry. "I said, BASTARD!"
As he started smiling again, she couldn't help but do the same. Slowly, they joined together and started to walk through the empty cemetery.
"What're you planning to do tonight, Phoenix?" he asked after a few moments of silence.
She caught herself trying to correct him. No, just call me Buffy from now on. It was still too soon.
"Umm," she said, pursing her lips as she thought, "I'm probably going to finish patrolling, then head back to my motel for a long, hot shower, and sleep!"
"Oh," he whispered, looking down at the ground, "I was kinda hoping, after we got done, you'd go back with me to my place so's we could watch the telly, eat pizza, and get smashed on a bottle of really bad wine."
"You were hoping?"
Spike shrugged. "Kinda."
"Hey, wait a minute!" she cried. "Your crypt isn't anywhere near this cemetery, and I said I would do patrolling tonight! Did you come all the way here just to invite me?"
Gasping to find an intelligent excuse, Spike paused, gave up and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah," he purred.
Shocking the embarrassed vampire completely, Buffy linked her arm through his, then flashed him a bright smile as they continued their walk.
"I accept your request." For a moment, she could have sworn Spike was blushing. "After all," she continued, "It's not like there's a lot of evil things roaming about to kill. I don't know if the lack of badness in the town is because of this Pitatch guy, or if it's because you and the Scoobies did such a good job of patrolling while I was gone. By the way," she questioned, "How did you guys manage to keep Sunnyhell in one piece?"
"Oh," he explained, doing an obvious imitation of Giles, "It was a very complex system of me and the Whelp switching off nights to patrol, the rest helping when they could, and . . . well, stopping anything that was evil in nature."'
"Very complex."
"Quite."
"Well," she thought aloud, a mischievous plan forming in her mind, "I don't know how you did it."
"Did what, pet?"
"You know, defeat all those evil creatures with everyone knowing you're such a pushover nowadays."
An appalled look formed on his face as he stopped walking. "PUSHOVER?!"
"Mmm hmm." She nodded, still walking and preparing to run. "I bet whenever some newbie vamp comes running into a crypt and says, 'Spike's on patrol!', all the elders start laughing and say, 'Who, Spike? Nope, he's nothing to worry about. Hell, he's harmless!'"
"TAKE THAT BACK SLAYER!"
"Oh, help me someone!" she fake-cried, totally into the acting. "I think he's mad at me!"
With a loud roar, Spike lunged at her, but she was already off and running.
Jumping over large stone sarcophagus and weaving between headstones, Buffy ran as fast as she could, loving the feel of the chase. Every once in a while, she would duck behind some large object, getting a glimpse of the former Bad searching for her. Then, she would take off in another direction. This rather odd game of Hide and Seek lasted for a while.
After spending five minutes hiding in a freshly dug grave, Buffy crouched behind a tombstone. Spike came into view, about fifty feet away, pensively surveying the area, then headed off in an easterly direction.
Unable to hold it in any longer, she burst out laughing. It lasted a few moments, then slowly, as Buffy started to study the tombstone in front of her, died down.
It was medium sized, nothing unique. A small rose was carved near the top. Anyone passing by wouldn't have paid it any special attention. But, the words inscribed in the stone hit her hard.
Dawn Summers
May 27, 1986- October 14, 2002
"Oh, God," she moaned while kneeling down beside the headstone. With a shaking hand, she reached out and traced the words with her fingers. Tears began to travel down the side of her face.
Two strong arms closed around her body. "Found ya, luv," whispered Spike in her ear. Then he noticed that she was shaking.
"Phoenix? Phoenix-luv, what's wrong?"
She didn't respond. Carefully reaching out, he grabbed her chin so she would look at him. "Phoenix? Phoenix . . . Buffy, tell me what's wrong."
Taking in a quivering breath, Buffy looked at the headstone, then rapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into Spike's shirt.
Reading the tombstone, he slowly closed his eyes. "Christ." Sighing, Spike pulled her in closer, lightly rubbing her back.
Buffy now began to cry freely. "I . . . I d-didn't know it w-would be this bad." Releasing her hands from Spike, she turned and ran her hands along the cool stone surface. "I haven't been here in six years, and she's been all alone this time," she shakingly cried, "Just lying here, all alone. No one to protect her. Like I should have done." Leaning in, she kissed the carved rose. "I'm so sorry, Dawnie."
Scooting slightly so he was sitting next to her, Spike extended his arm around her shoulders. "You don't have to worry. She was protected."
Wiping away her tears, she turned to look at him. "By who?"
"Me."
"I don't understand."
Shrugging, he gestured towards the stone. "I come here once a week, make sure the stone's clean, no weeds are growing nearby. And I do the same for your mum."
"Why?" she asked, looking into his eyes.
"Who else would do it?" He stood, then started pacing as she watched. "When you left, I had nothing to keep me here. You were the reason that I stayed in this hellhole, and with you gone, I had no reason to stay. 'Bout a year after you left, I was prepared to leave, but then Harris and Demon-girl got married, and I realized something."
Stopping, he looked down at her. "They were gonna get on with their lives, have children, go to parent-teacher conferences, coach their kids soccer teams. Soon, they'd all move to a different place, a safer place, or get old and die. Bit," he smiled sadly at the stone, "Was gonna be here, all alone, no one to watch out for her." Kneeling to the ground, he took her hands in his. "When I went and fell in love with you, protecting your family became my official duty. So I stayed."
A wave of emotions swept upon Buffy, and she stood up, trying to comprehend what had just been said.
Finally, a sad smile formed on her lips. "I don't deserve you."
"Piffle," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"No," she exclaimed, "I really don't deserve you. Any of you! You guys have always been there for me, and I left you to clean up my mess when I ran away! 'I don't have to worry about a thing, Giles and Willow and Spike and all the rest will be there to pick up my shit!'" She paused, remembering things from the past. "When we were together, I treated you like shit. You were this little lovesick puppy, and I beat you and called you horrible things, and you still came back. And when I finally grew up and actually saw you, I began to fall in love with you. But I left, because I thought only about myself. You shouldn't be allowed to love someone as selfish as me."
Standing up, Spike felt his breath catch in his chest. "Do you," he quietly asked, "Still love me?"
Regret for not saying it sooner consumed her. "I don't think it's possible for one person to love another more than I love you."
His mouth hung open, searching for words to say, as tears of pure joy filled his eyes.
Slowly, the space between them grew smaller, then was gone as she cupped his face in her hands. Timidly, he enclosed her waist with his arms. Their heads moved closer together, Spike biting his lip as Buffy softly smiled. Lips found lips. All the passion, anger, fear, and love was lost as they shared that long, pure kiss.
It didn't last.
Suddenly, Spike pulled away, all the tenderness gone, replaced by anger.
"No," he whispered harshly, then turned and ran, leaving Buffy alone.
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@
Slamming the door open to his crypt, Spike ran through, feeling satisfaction as it shut loudly behind him. He kept replaying the kiss in his head, that wonderful moment, ruined because he knew what was going to happen.
Jumping down the stairs two at a time, he found himself in his bedroom. Shedding off his trench coat, he sat on the bed and pulled off his shoes. After letting one fall on the floor, he held the other one in his hands, examining it. Examining proof that this shitty and fucked up world existed. Gripping it tightly, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.
Standing, he began to quickly pace, running his hands through his hair as he thought.
A noise sounded from upstairs. His door was thrown open by someone stomping loudly as they walked.
"SPIKE!" she screamed, her voice filled with rage. Running down the steps, she spotted him and went over so she was standing right under his nose.
"What the FUCK was that about?!"
Shaking his head, he stared at her with astonishment. "You're not going to do it again!"
"DO WHAT?!"
With a laugh, he pushed her away. "I'm not going to let you do this to me! Make me fall for you even more! Like you said, I'm not your fucking puppy! You can't say you're in love with me!" He ran past her and up the stairs, but stopped halfway up. "You'll be here, what, a month more? Then after that, you're off, trotting the world because you can't find it in your heart to stay here! And if you leave here, after saying those wonderful things to me, I don't know if I'll be able to survive! So leave me the fuck alone!" Half expecting her to run up and slap him, Spike turned his back to her.
But she didn't. He heard her sit in the armchair next to his bookshelf.
"Spike, I have to tell you something," she calmly stated. Still seething, he turned and came down so he stood aways from her.
She put her hands in her lap, then licked her lips. "I may not have made the right choices in life, but I know not to make the same mistake twice. Now, what I said to you was, and is, true: I love you. I have for a long time. I was just too stupid to admit it," she sighed, shaking her head. "I seem to have this history where all the people I love leave me, and I'll be damned if I do that to anyone again. What I'm saying is . . . well, I'm not going to leave."
Taking a step back, Spike stared at her in shock. "What?"
"I'm going to stay in Sunnydale."
Buffy stood up, waiting for a response.
"Say it again," requested Spike, moving towards her.
"I'm staying."
"Say it again." He was three feet away from her, a smile spreading across his face with each passing second.
"I'm staying," she said, enunciating every syllable.
The space between them was gone. "Say it again," he whispered, softly rubbing her cheek with the back of his hand.
Giggling softly, she looked up at him. "I'm staying, forever and ever."
He leaned down, centimeters away from her lips. "Just wanted to make sure." Suddenly, he leaned in, and kissed her so intensely she felt all her breath leave her lungs.
She opened her mouth slightly, and he caught her bottom lip, lightly nibbling on the flesh. Her hands snaked up and hooked around his neck, her fingers lightly brushing his skin.
All too soon, she ran out of breath, and leaned her head against his neck. He started showering tiny kisses on her neck and earlobe.
"What do I call you, luv?" he whispered into her ear.
Moaning at the tickling of his breath on her neck, she opened her mouth. "Buffy."
They went back in for another kiss, this time more passionate. As they did, he reached through her long coat and pulled her tank top up a bit, rubbing her bare skin. He soon felt his shirt being pulled up from the back, and it was quickly on the floor, followed by her coat and top. Continuing the kiss, he slowly guided her to his bed, taking great care to set her down gently.
Rising slightly, he gazed at her as she lay on the bed, her long hair fanning away from her body.
"God, you're gorgeous."
Lightly smiling, she pulled him back to her.
Rating: R- warning warning warning warning warning warning suggested sex warning warning warning
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.
Author's Notes: More, much more! Yes, there is more. Whoa, I'm getting near the endpoint here, sort of. I hope you like the story, how it's going, and appreciate what I do in this chapter (hint: look in the disclaimer, tee hee hee). I still love getting reviews. Which, by the way, brings me to a proposition to all you who read my story. I have an idea for a sequel ready, and possibly a third installment. But, I also have another idea for a new story that has nothing to do with the plot line and characters from "Exit, Stage Left". So, here's what's going to happen. You get me 100 reviews by the time I finish this story, and I'll go on with the sequel. If not, I start in with the new story, which I thought up while I was incredibly depressed one day. Just a warning, and I plan on going through with it. I love you all.
PS: The disclaimer was taken from Anyanka Faith and my daily life. No, just kidding. I stole it from a generic version of Jerry Springer. And the whole "My husband ain't . . ." was stolen from "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back". I have no problem with J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter series. I appreciate the effort she's put forth to make reading popular again. My disclaimers don't really mean anything; I just have some fun. And just to point out, I don't have a husband, and she doesn't have a baby. I don't think.
Chapter Thirteen- Admitting the Truth
Ugh! Burritos are not my friends!
Feeling slightly nauseated, Buffy leaned against a mausoleum wall, regretting her choice to take thirds on Olivia's special Mexican food. The moment passed, and she was on her feet, prepared to kill any evil creature that dared challenge her.
"C'mon, doesn't anything wanna piece of me tonight? Vampires? Demons? Creatures of the night? Hey, speak up, and I won't fight back for the first five minutes! Great deal, huh?" Not hearing a response, she frowned and shoved her hands into her coat pockets.
Life stinks. Not one Big Bad wants me to kick the shit outta them.
Actually, revise that statement. Life doesn't stink, Big Bads do.
Smiling at herself, Buffy backflipped onto a stone grave and sat down, ready to relax. From her vantage point, she had a perfect view of downtown Sunnydale, which was merely a sea of colored lights shining in the night.
Hmmm, this is nice. Can't believe I was ready to leave a few days ago.
Since the birth of Laila, Buffy had been incredibly busy. There was training with Giles, research to find the newest evil, dinners at her friends' homes, and patrolling. But, what they didn't know was she was secretly searching the classifieds for a job and a place to live.
It had been three days since she decided to stay, to give up the façade of Phoenix and resume her life in Sunnydale, picking up where she had left off. The Scooby gang had no idea that their plan worked. She hadn't told anyone because she had to get used to the idea before telling all. And that might be a while.
Another tummy rumbling started, and Buffy lay on the cold cement surface, rubbing her stomach to ease the discomfort.
I haven't eaten this well since I left, and I think the good food is gonna make me sick.
Monday night, the evening after Laila's birth, Buffy had her first meal at Giles and Olivia's home, a quiet yet spacious apartment on the good side of town. Tuesday evening, she invaded the Harris home, then went on demon patrol with Xander, reminiscing on their old battles. And today, Wednesday, the Scooby gang broke tradition and had dinner at Willow and Tara's house, followed shortly by a welcome home party for the newborn.
Wednesday? Is it Wednesday? That means I've been here . . . one week.
In one week, I've changed my mind and decided to stay. Damn, that says A LOT about my convictions!
Someone in the area interrupted her thoughts as she lay on the sarcophagus. Her Slayer sense started going off. It was a vampire, one close by, trying hard to sneak up on her. She lay still, and carefully pulled a stake out of her pocket.
Here we go! That's what I'm talkin' about!
"Hey," she spoke, as she felt the vampire grow closer, "You know it's not very nice to sneak up on people while their resting. Guess I'll just have to teach you with a little rough and tumble."
Prepared to fight, she lay on the stone surface, waiting for it to make the first move. Then, her Slayer sense stopped, the vampire having left the area.
Something was off. It was just a little too quiet. Her senses had stopped too suddenly.
It was planning something.
She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the sarcophagus, scanning the cemetery with her eyes.
Before she could do anything, her Slayer sense kicked in full blast, and a cold hand snuck up behind her and covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming.
"Luv," it whispered darkly into her ear, "You know I was never a 'rough and tumble' kind of lad. I preferred 'cheap liquor and hurricane force tumble' followed by you calling me 'evil' and leaving me alone."
"SPIKE!" she screamed, pushing his hand away from her face, and turning her head to look at him, "You are SUCH a bastard!"
He was grinning, very pleased with himself. "I've always known that. And I never tried to hide it."
"I was so gonna stake you!"
Laughing out loud, he walked around the stone block so he was facing her. "You wouldn't, and you couldn't." He took her hands and pulled her up. "I'm just too damn adorable."
Rolling her eyes, she pushed him and quickly began to walk away. "Bastard." She whispered when she was far away.
"What?" he asked loudly, his vampire hearing picking up the words.
She turned, still angry. "I said, BASTARD!"
As he started smiling again, she couldn't help but do the same. Slowly, they joined together and started to walk through the empty cemetery.
"What're you planning to do tonight, Phoenix?" he asked after a few moments of silence.
She caught herself trying to correct him. No, just call me Buffy from now on. It was still too soon.
"Umm," she said, pursing her lips as she thought, "I'm probably going to finish patrolling, then head back to my motel for a long, hot shower, and sleep!"
"Oh," he whispered, looking down at the ground, "I was kinda hoping, after we got done, you'd go back with me to my place so's we could watch the telly, eat pizza, and get smashed on a bottle of really bad wine."
"You were hoping?"
Spike shrugged. "Kinda."
"Hey, wait a minute!" she cried. "Your crypt isn't anywhere near this cemetery, and I said I would do patrolling tonight! Did you come all the way here just to invite me?"
Gasping to find an intelligent excuse, Spike paused, gave up and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah," he purred.
Shocking the embarrassed vampire completely, Buffy linked her arm through his, then flashed him a bright smile as they continued their walk.
"I accept your request." For a moment, she could have sworn Spike was blushing. "After all," she continued, "It's not like there's a lot of evil things roaming about to kill. I don't know if the lack of badness in the town is because of this Pitatch guy, or if it's because you and the Scoobies did such a good job of patrolling while I was gone. By the way," she questioned, "How did you guys manage to keep Sunnyhell in one piece?"
"Oh," he explained, doing an obvious imitation of Giles, "It was a very complex system of me and the Whelp switching off nights to patrol, the rest helping when they could, and . . . well, stopping anything that was evil in nature."'
"Very complex."
"Quite."
"Well," she thought aloud, a mischievous plan forming in her mind, "I don't know how you did it."
"Did what, pet?"
"You know, defeat all those evil creatures with everyone knowing you're such a pushover nowadays."
An appalled look formed on his face as he stopped walking. "PUSHOVER?!"
"Mmm hmm." She nodded, still walking and preparing to run. "I bet whenever some newbie vamp comes running into a crypt and says, 'Spike's on patrol!', all the elders start laughing and say, 'Who, Spike? Nope, he's nothing to worry about. Hell, he's harmless!'"
"TAKE THAT BACK SLAYER!"
"Oh, help me someone!" she fake-cried, totally into the acting. "I think he's mad at me!"
With a loud roar, Spike lunged at her, but she was already off and running.
Jumping over large stone sarcophagus and weaving between headstones, Buffy ran as fast as she could, loving the feel of the chase. Every once in a while, she would duck behind some large object, getting a glimpse of the former Bad searching for her. Then, she would take off in another direction. This rather odd game of Hide and Seek lasted for a while.
After spending five minutes hiding in a freshly dug grave, Buffy crouched behind a tombstone. Spike came into view, about fifty feet away, pensively surveying the area, then headed off in an easterly direction.
Unable to hold it in any longer, she burst out laughing. It lasted a few moments, then slowly, as Buffy started to study the tombstone in front of her, died down.
It was medium sized, nothing unique. A small rose was carved near the top. Anyone passing by wouldn't have paid it any special attention. But, the words inscribed in the stone hit her hard.
Dawn Summers
May 27, 1986- October 14, 2002
"Oh, God," she moaned while kneeling down beside the headstone. With a shaking hand, she reached out and traced the words with her fingers. Tears began to travel down the side of her face.
Two strong arms closed around her body. "Found ya, luv," whispered Spike in her ear. Then he noticed that she was shaking.
"Phoenix? Phoenix-luv, what's wrong?"
She didn't respond. Carefully reaching out, he grabbed her chin so she would look at him. "Phoenix? Phoenix . . . Buffy, tell me what's wrong."
Taking in a quivering breath, Buffy looked at the headstone, then rapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into Spike's shirt.
Reading the tombstone, he slowly closed his eyes. "Christ." Sighing, Spike pulled her in closer, lightly rubbing her back.
Buffy now began to cry freely. "I . . . I d-didn't know it w-would be this bad." Releasing her hands from Spike, she turned and ran her hands along the cool stone surface. "I haven't been here in six years, and she's been all alone this time," she shakingly cried, "Just lying here, all alone. No one to protect her. Like I should have done." Leaning in, she kissed the carved rose. "I'm so sorry, Dawnie."
Scooting slightly so he was sitting next to her, Spike extended his arm around her shoulders. "You don't have to worry. She was protected."
Wiping away her tears, she turned to look at him. "By who?"
"Me."
"I don't understand."
Shrugging, he gestured towards the stone. "I come here once a week, make sure the stone's clean, no weeds are growing nearby. And I do the same for your mum."
"Why?" she asked, looking into his eyes.
"Who else would do it?" He stood, then started pacing as she watched. "When you left, I had nothing to keep me here. You were the reason that I stayed in this hellhole, and with you gone, I had no reason to stay. 'Bout a year after you left, I was prepared to leave, but then Harris and Demon-girl got married, and I realized something."
Stopping, he looked down at her. "They were gonna get on with their lives, have children, go to parent-teacher conferences, coach their kids soccer teams. Soon, they'd all move to a different place, a safer place, or get old and die. Bit," he smiled sadly at the stone, "Was gonna be here, all alone, no one to watch out for her." Kneeling to the ground, he took her hands in his. "When I went and fell in love with you, protecting your family became my official duty. So I stayed."
A wave of emotions swept upon Buffy, and she stood up, trying to comprehend what had just been said.
Finally, a sad smile formed on her lips. "I don't deserve you."
"Piffle," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"No," she exclaimed, "I really don't deserve you. Any of you! You guys have always been there for me, and I left you to clean up my mess when I ran away! 'I don't have to worry about a thing, Giles and Willow and Spike and all the rest will be there to pick up my shit!'" She paused, remembering things from the past. "When we were together, I treated you like shit. You were this little lovesick puppy, and I beat you and called you horrible things, and you still came back. And when I finally grew up and actually saw you, I began to fall in love with you. But I left, because I thought only about myself. You shouldn't be allowed to love someone as selfish as me."
Standing up, Spike felt his breath catch in his chest. "Do you," he quietly asked, "Still love me?"
Regret for not saying it sooner consumed her. "I don't think it's possible for one person to love another more than I love you."
His mouth hung open, searching for words to say, as tears of pure joy filled his eyes.
Slowly, the space between them grew smaller, then was gone as she cupped his face in her hands. Timidly, he enclosed her waist with his arms. Their heads moved closer together, Spike biting his lip as Buffy softly smiled. Lips found lips. All the passion, anger, fear, and love was lost as they shared that long, pure kiss.
It didn't last.
Suddenly, Spike pulled away, all the tenderness gone, replaced by anger.
"No," he whispered harshly, then turned and ran, leaving Buffy alone.
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@
Slamming the door open to his crypt, Spike ran through, feeling satisfaction as it shut loudly behind him. He kept replaying the kiss in his head, that wonderful moment, ruined because he knew what was going to happen.
Jumping down the stairs two at a time, he found himself in his bedroom. Shedding off his trench coat, he sat on the bed and pulled off his shoes. After letting one fall on the floor, he held the other one in his hands, examining it. Examining proof that this shitty and fucked up world existed. Gripping it tightly, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.
Standing, he began to quickly pace, running his hands through his hair as he thought.
A noise sounded from upstairs. His door was thrown open by someone stomping loudly as they walked.
"SPIKE!" she screamed, her voice filled with rage. Running down the steps, she spotted him and went over so she was standing right under his nose.
"What the FUCK was that about?!"
Shaking his head, he stared at her with astonishment. "You're not going to do it again!"
"DO WHAT?!"
With a laugh, he pushed her away. "I'm not going to let you do this to me! Make me fall for you even more! Like you said, I'm not your fucking puppy! You can't say you're in love with me!" He ran past her and up the stairs, but stopped halfway up. "You'll be here, what, a month more? Then after that, you're off, trotting the world because you can't find it in your heart to stay here! And if you leave here, after saying those wonderful things to me, I don't know if I'll be able to survive! So leave me the fuck alone!" Half expecting her to run up and slap him, Spike turned his back to her.
But she didn't. He heard her sit in the armchair next to his bookshelf.
"Spike, I have to tell you something," she calmly stated. Still seething, he turned and came down so he stood aways from her.
She put her hands in her lap, then licked her lips. "I may not have made the right choices in life, but I know not to make the same mistake twice. Now, what I said to you was, and is, true: I love you. I have for a long time. I was just too stupid to admit it," she sighed, shaking her head. "I seem to have this history where all the people I love leave me, and I'll be damned if I do that to anyone again. What I'm saying is . . . well, I'm not going to leave."
Taking a step back, Spike stared at her in shock. "What?"
"I'm going to stay in Sunnydale."
Buffy stood up, waiting for a response.
"Say it again," requested Spike, moving towards her.
"I'm staying."
"Say it again." He was three feet away from her, a smile spreading across his face with each passing second.
"I'm staying," she said, enunciating every syllable.
The space between them was gone. "Say it again," he whispered, softly rubbing her cheek with the back of his hand.
Giggling softly, she looked up at him. "I'm staying, forever and ever."
He leaned down, centimeters away from her lips. "Just wanted to make sure." Suddenly, he leaned in, and kissed her so intensely she felt all her breath leave her lungs.
She opened her mouth slightly, and he caught her bottom lip, lightly nibbling on the flesh. Her hands snaked up and hooked around his neck, her fingers lightly brushing his skin.
All too soon, she ran out of breath, and leaned her head against his neck. He started showering tiny kisses on her neck and earlobe.
"What do I call you, luv?" he whispered into her ear.
Moaning at the tickling of his breath on her neck, she opened her mouth. "Buffy."
They went back in for another kiss, this time more passionate. As they did, he reached through her long coat and pulled her tank top up a bit, rubbing her bare skin. He soon felt his shirt being pulled up from the back, and it was quickly on the floor, followed by her coat and top. Continuing the kiss, he slowly guided her to his bed, taking great care to set her down gently.
Rising slightly, he gazed at her as she lay on the bed, her long hair fanning away from her body.
"God, you're gorgeous."
Lightly smiling, she pulled him back to her.