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Greetings! You are now entering SPUFFY CITY. Enjoy your stay!

Chapter 17: Fate and Devotion


They stood on the Winchester Bridge gazing at the street lights as they danced on the River Thames. It was relatively quiet, only the sound of cars and the whistle of wind as it ran across the water.

Buffy was transfixed by the sight of Big Ben. She always dreamt of standing in that exact spot; she had to see it before the impending battle.

What do you think, love? Spike asked, leaning against the railing.

Buffy shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans, her eyes never leaving the clock face. It's beautiful, she sighed. Must be something to hear it ring from this spot.

Spike nodded. You'll hear it, he assured her.

Buffy turned and slowly made her way closer to the land. It's not fair, she whined.

Spike snorted. Life's not fair, pet. Care to expand on which part you mean?

Everything. This. You. Me. Us. Not fair. Just when I thought things were going to work out to my liking, the PTBs wreak havoc with my life.

Spike followed behind her, hoping she would get to the point sooner rather than later. He was glad for their circumstance. It brought her back to him.

I've taken so much shit from this world and I selfishly wish it would give something back, she grumbled.

You think this world never gave you anything?! he snapped at her.

Buffy stopped and faced Spike, a regretful look plain on her features. No. I know it has. I just-I want- Urgghhh! Nevermind. She continued walking.

No, tell me. You just? You want?

She faced the water and placed both her hands on the rail; Spike copied her position next to her. Buffy pulled her eyes from the inky water and looked at the clock, always steady, shining in the night above her. How long had it been standing there? It watched the people below and those same people looked up at the clock, were guided by it. A symbol of time that was running away. No matter what those people did, their time would run out, but the clock would remain, remain to see more faces of men and women and children. See foreigners like herself who came into view its wonder and go home.

I want home, she said, still looking up at the beacon.

Spike looked at her profile. You have a home, love.

That's not what I mean. Buffy looked at Spike, her face calm. I don't mean a house. I want home, to feel safe and cared for. To feel free and love and be loved. Spike, I want you. You are my home.

Spike eyebrows shot up so quickly Buffy thought they would fly off his face.

Buffy laughed and ran her finger through his curls. The look on his face was priceless, like a kid who just saw the presents under the Christmas tree. She leaned in a kissed him softly. Spike, I love you. I don't want to be anywhere or with anyone else, but with you.

Spike didn't say anything for a full minute. He just stared, mouth agape at Buffy. This was a night of revelations. He was her home? She loved him?! He blinked his eyes as Buffy's hand passed in front of it.

Spike? Did you hear what I said?

I hope I did.

Buffy smiled as her hand cupped his cheek. You heard me. I love you, William, Spike, I love all of you.

Spike grabbed the woman and pulled her into a passionate kiss. He held her tightly to him, afraid she'd disappear or change her mind. They pulled apart slightly; their lips still lingered. Spike couldn't contain his laughter.

What's so funny? Buffy asked with a chuckle of her own.

I love you too, he said.

Buffy stepped back to observe him. And that's funny?

He laughed again. Not in the slightest. He reached out and took her hand and kissed it. You love me?

And you love me?

Always have, always will; it'll always be you. I'm yours. You've had me for years, Buffy, and I never wanted to be anywhere else either.

Buffy felt tears spring to her eyes. She never realized how much she wanted to hear those words until now. This isn't as scary as I thought it was going to be, she admitted. I-I couldn't say it, couldn't tell you because of my dreams. I thought maybe I should wait until after we took care of Leila.

What changed your mind?

You did. I couldn't be around you without wanting to say it or scream it. I love you. I love you! she declared again, happiness shining all over her beautiful face. It was so easy to say it, so natural. I want you and I want to be with you. When this is over, I'm not leaving your side.

I don't think I could let you.

Spike was having trouble saying anything. For once he was at a loss. All he could hear were her words of love running on a reel in his mind. She loved him. She was in love with him, no one else. Him, the soulless vampire. She loved all of him.

His speechless state just made Buffy smile even more. She couldn't possibly feel more wonderful than she did in that moment. It felt so right; it was fate.

She ran her fingers along his cheekbones and his jawline. His fingers tentatively touched her face. She turned and gently pressed a kiss to his tips before leaning into his lips. She tangled her fingers into his platinum curls and deepened the kiss.

Spike held her close, molding their bodies together. He was finally coming out of his stupor and slipped his tongue into her inferno of a mouth. So hot and tantalizing. Her small form against him, clinging to him. He plundered her mouth, and she returned with equal fervor.

Buffy snaked her arms down inside of his jacket, her hands caressing the muscles in his back. She moaned as Spike's cold hands made their way underneath her jacket and the hem of her shirt.

She broke the kiss and took in air. She looked up at Spike, his eyes now darkened with desire. She grabbed both his hands and whispered in his ear, I think we need to go home now.

Spike released a deep throated chuckle. I know a short cut.




What are you smiling at? Giles asked O'Malley. You've had a preoccupied look on your face the entire evening. Do you know something I do not?

O'Malley laughed. I know many things you do not know, Rupert. I was just merely wondering how things were going with Buffy and William.

Giles looked at the clock on the mantle. They have been gone for a very long time. Perhaps, they discovered a lead.



I do hope they come home soon so we can tell them our news, Giles said with a thread of sarcasm.

O'Malley just nodded. It was good news. Earlier that evening, O'Malley and Giles made a list of everything they knew about the prophecy, trying to find anything they overlooked. It was then the leprechaun realized the site of the prophecy was to the West. There several sites that matched Buffy's dreams, but O'Malley gathered this second Destino Malanto was going to commence in a location similar to the first. It wasn't the best news, but it was better than having no idea whatsoever.

We have a vague idea of where it is going to take place. I suppose we just watch the skies of the next several evenings and wait until we see the night electrify, Giles said sarcastically before sipping his much needed cup of coffee. His eyelids threatened to close every ten seconds as he waited for the wonderful drug of caffeine to kick in. But, he wanted to wait up for Buffy and Spike and hear how patrol went.

O'Malley laughed at the Watcher. If only Rupert knew what he knew. Shamus O'Malley knew when the night would be; he just needed to wait for the signal.

Just then, the two men heard the front door slam. They looked out into the hallway and saw a blur of blondes dash up the stairs. They never stopped to say hello or goodnight, just ran to their room and shut the door, one door.

Giles and O'Malley shared blank looks on their faces as they tried to ignore several thuds coming from above.

Giles cleared his throat. was all he managed to say.

Yes, quite, O'Malley returned.

I suppose things went well on patrol.

O'Malley looked up to the ceiling. From the sound of things, very well.




Buffy and Spike stumbled into Spike's bedroom, boots toed off, hands groping everywhere, lips attaching to any skin they could find. Buffy slammed Spike against the door as she feverishly tried to removed his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Spike inwardly laughed at her haste. He let her fumble while he concentrated on nibbling her lips.

When he tried to remove Buffy's jacket, she pushed him away and released a growl of her own. With the outer layer removed, she ripped open his shirt.

Spike exclaimed. I liked the shirt.

You like me more, Buffy said coyly, not stopping for an instant as she attacked his belt buckle. Spike couldn't argue with her logic so he lifted his arms as Buffy tugged the leather strap from his body and threw it to the floor along with her offending jacket. She looked at Spike's disheveled appearance and smiled as she leaned in to recapture his swollen lips. She knew she was moving quickly, but she couldn't wait anymore. She wanted him so badly, wanted desperately to be with the man she loved.

Buffy's hands were running over Spike's muscular chest, nails gently scraping his skin. Her tips trailed down and rested on the tops of his jeans. She pulled his hips forward; Spike groaned at the contact.

He was getting frustrated now; she was still fully clothed and still very much the aggressor. This needed to change now.

Spike grabbed Buffy by the shoulders and pushed her away from him. She stared at him, panting through her confusion. What was wrong with him?

She watched as he slowly slipped the remnants of his tattered shirt off his shoulders and let it tumble to the floor. His eyes locked with hers and held them as he slipped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet. For a moment, he did nothing, but lose himself in her green eyes, ablaze with lust. He watched the rise and fall of her breasts, relishing the slight friction of her covered bounty against his body.

Spike stepped to his bed and placed her down onto the mattress. He fingered the hem of her shirt before silently pulling it over her head. He kneeled on the bed and placed butterfly kisses on her forehead, her nose, chin and down the column of her throat.

Her breath became ragged at this languid pace. She didn't try to regain control from him, just let the cool sensations of his touch wash over her. It was new for Buffy, for them. Spike was never like this before. Always attentive, yes, but this was beyond that. She felt his hands glide across her skin, skating along every cure; his touch was pure satin and she found herself wondering why she never noticed before. Because you didn't want it gentle, Buffy, she reminded herself. You wouldn't have let him do this. He was adoring her, loving her, and every inch of her being was trembling.

Spike moved to unhook the front clasp of her bra. he stared at her bare breasts for a moment; they seemed to have gotten slightly bigger. How did he miss that before? No problem there, he thought. All the more for me to play with. Brushing aside the lacy material, he covered one erect nipple with his mouth.

Buffy gasped at the cool air of the room and the icy touch of Spike's mouth on her sensitive skin. She wound her fingers through his hair and arched into him. He moved lower and trailed a path along the underside of her breast, warm and already slightly moist with sweat. His tongue swept back up to her rosy peak, sucking and rolling the sweet bud in his coolness. His teeth grazed and nipped and tantalized all over before turning to lavish her other breast.

She was Heaven, tasted like vanilla and her sighs of pleasure tickled his senses like champagne bubbles.

Spike removed his mouth, avoiding Buffy's tiny hands as the reached out for him. Spike just smiled as he leaned back to undo her button fly jeans and pulled them down her legs. She was so beautiful, just they way he remembered her. He knew her body by heart, every ticklish area, every freckle, and every scar. He ran his fingers along the inside of her tanned calf followed by a soft open mouth kiss. He pressed his kisses up her legs and over the tops of her thighs before hooking his fingers around the thin straps of her underwear. Moving them downwards, he brushed his lips over her hip, tarrying to nibble on the protruding bone. He lifted his eyes to her and gave her a devilish grin right before he tore the scrap of cloth away from her.

You tear mine, I'll tear yours, he said simply. He bent down and peppered kisses over her abdomen. Equal, right?

Buffy nodded as she reached down to pull him up for a kiss. She cradled him between her thighs, delighting in the feel of his hard length against her. She bucked her hips into him, each sharing in a moan. She felt Spike's fingers brush her clit and swiftly delve into her heat.

Oh, God, she gasped. She missed this contrast of hot and cold. Somehow no other man could ever compare to her Spike; it never felt as right or as satisfying as it did with the vampire. Hot and cold won every time.

As his pace began to quicken, the feeling the pit of her stomach grew. Too soon, way too soon. Not like this. she said mumbled into Spike's mouth.

At the sound of that simple word, Spike quickly pulled away from Buffy, confusion in his eyes. Did he do something wrong? Was he rushing her? Old insecurities flew back into his mind.

Buffy reached out to touch his face. She saw the look in his eyes and she knew what he was thinking; she cursed herself for putting that look on his face. I love you, she whispered, looking straight into his blue orbs. I want to be with you; you never have to doubt that. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted- I meant- I didn't want to-

Spike translated Buffy's stammer and relaxed with the realization. He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. I love you too.

Buffy pulled at the belt loops of his jeans. Then show me, she grinned.

Spike grinned back at her as he stood to remove his jeans. His entire pale form shone like silver in the moonlight. Buffy unconsciously held her breath at the site before her. She dreamt of it, the perfection of his body, but dreams were a poor substitute for the real thing.

He crawled over her, settling himself between her open legs. He felt the heat of her desire before he even entered her and he thought he would lose all control as her scent of arousal hit him once again. He slid inside of her, stretching, filling her. No matter how many women he slept with since Buffy, which wasn't that many, they never burned him, consumed him the way Buffy did. They were a perfect fit. Both of them had smiling eyes as Spike began to move inside of her. Buffy matched his slow tempo, never rushing. She was looking forward to doing this all night long.

So many nights he slept alone. Even with a woman beside him, he was alone. More often than not, he would fall asleep with her on his mind, wondering what she was doing, was she happy with the man asleep in her bed. He dreamed of her, being with her again, but his imagination failed to capture the intense feelings inside of him right now. Nothing compared to knowing she truly loved him, he could never fully comprehend such an idea. But, as he's always believed, love as has little to do with the mind.

Wasted years, so much time she could have been with him, by his side, in his arms, morning after morning rolling over and snuggling into his embrace. She wasn't going to make the same mistake again, never, of that she was certain. No one could ever love her the way he did and vice versa. No one ever created these feelings inside of her and she had never been with someone with whom she shared so much. He knew everything about her and he was still in love with her, after five years, never stopped loving her.

Oh, God, Spike! she gasped as his fingers stroked her clit. She clutched his shoulders tightly, knowing it wouldn't be long now.

Spike thrusted deep inside of her faster and faster. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as he felt himself near the edge. Buffy threw her head back, exposing more of her throat to him. His blunt teeth scraped her pulse points; Spike could almost taste her sweet blood through her skin and fought to remain in his human face.

Do it, she moaned, feeling his need to have her, all of her.

Spike ignored her words and thrusted harder and harder through his bloodlust.

Buffy cried out in pleasureful pain as his pelvis repeatedly smacked hers. Do it, she whispered again.

Spike was losing his control. He felt her inner walls fluttering, tightening around him and her pleas weren't helping the matter. He wanted it so badly, but he hadn't bitten anyone in ages. What if it was only a heat of the moment decision? She had no idea what she was asking for, for him to mark her. Did she know?

Buffy pulled his face down to her neck and held him there, stroking his soft tendrils at the nape of his neck. She could barely speak through her gasps for breath. She was holding out for him, for him to claim her. she managed to say.

At her declaration, Spike vamped out and sank his fangs into Buffy's supple skin.

she cried as her orgasm took her over. Part of her life was flowing into his mouth, gently sucked away from her, the most blissful step in their dance.

The rush of her blood and those incredible Slayer muscles squeezing him, sent Spike spiraling into ecstasy right after her, a growl rumble through his chest as he came.

He retracted his fangs and she felt his tongue catch the droplets that ran down her neck. Spike nuzzled his mark, a loud purr filled the room. She was his, body and soul.

As Buffy came down from her orgasm, she felt a sweeping calm encompass her entire being. It wasn't just the afterglow of sex; it was something far more grand. She felt whole for the first time in her adult life. He gave her that. She was proud of him, proud of herself as well, for letting go of the past and just being, being in his arms, his body pressed against hers and his lips murmuring words of love.




It was three in the morning when the sounds from upstairs permanently settled down. O'Malley sat outside on the balcony of the kitchen, looking up at the pitch of night sky. He felt a strong presence floating above the cloud that covered the moon.

It would be tonight.

A life split in two shall reunite on the Night of the Ill Fated.
When black is black
And wrong is right
The Heavens shall commence and rain down their might
Black blood and ivory stone together mixed shall become one
With the Father's form of justice.

O'Malley repeated the brief poetic prophecy. He was still stumped on the Father's form justice. Which father did the ancients mean? Must be some god or another. But, what kind of justice would He give? Is he merciful or tyrannical?

When would those infernal Heavens commence already? The Slayer's dreams were already taking shape, he felt it happening. He just needed to see where it would happen.

Thunder softly rumbled in the clouds and lightning flashed. A light drizzle fell from above. O'Malley's gaze drifted up to a blackened bedroom. His heart went out to the lovers. Soon they would be tested in more ways than one. May He be merciful.



Spike leaned against the headboard. He felt the change in the air, as most demonic creatures probably did, and couldn't get back to sleep. Beside him, Buffy slept soundly, sprawled out on her stomach, her head nestled against Spike's side, her arm lazily draped across his stomach. Spike's hand traipsed along her back and through the ends of her tousled hair. He closed his eyes and breathed her in. Her sweet scent was all over him, imbedding itself into his his skin, never to leave again.

She's beautiful.

Spike opened his eyes and saw Leila standing by the far wall, her shoulders hunched over. Her hair was down, long and wild from the mists of rain. She was wearing white pajamas with her black leather jacket over them. Spike noted her labored breathing and her all over haggard appearance. He never saw her look so diminutive.

Yes, she is. Spike sat up straight and placed Buffy's arm on the bed.

She loves you then, Leila stated. Spike finally got his Slayer. Took long enough. She tried smiling, but she just chewed the corner of her mouth. Then again, you do have forever, don't you? Y--y-you'll be here tomorrow... and the next day.... and the next. Some of us- She cut herself off as her eyes welled up. She nervously glanced around the room.



I'll leave you now. She shifted from one foot to another before she bolted for the nearest exit, bedroom door.

Leila, wait. Spike quickly leapt from the bed, grabbed his jeans and ran out the door after her.

He flung the front door of the townhouse open and found her huddled underneath a tree. He walked over to her; she was crying, her red tears mixing with the now steady rain. He placed his hands on her shaking shoulders and turned her to face him. Leila, look at me. She obeyed, her red tinted violet eyes met his ice blue. Why did you come here?

I...I wanted to see you. I know you're angry and you hate me, but I wanted to see you before... She swallowed the rest of her sentence. It's almost time you know.



She nodded her head in confirmation. It should be quite the show. Too bad I won't see it.

Spike stared into those haunting eyes. She believed him. She knew her boss was going to kill her and she's still going to do it. Leila, you don't have to die. Don't let this prick control you; you're better than this.

She cackled at that assessment. I'm not better; I'm a mess. He made me better.

He doesn't love you, Leila.

It's not about love! she shouted. It's about devotion. I told him I knew he was using me; I knew you were using me. It doesn't matter. I never have control. She smacked her head with her fist repeatedly. How can I when I can't think straight? She continued to hit her head, sobbing loudly. She didn't feel the pain; she was too full of other emotions to feel something as trivial as physical pain. She was relying on this fact to get her through the ritual.

Spike grasped both her hands and held her still. Leila, stop this. Let me help you. please, he begged her.

All you want to do is help me. You have other things to look after now, not me, Spike. She pulled out of his arms that bound her.

So, what? You're just giving up? He used you and you're going to let him win?

I am not letting him win, she growled. I'm going to do this. It is fated to be, William. It's my purpose. She raised her hand to his cheek and smiled when he covered that hand with his own.

Tell me where, Leila, where is this taking place? I'll fight with you.

She rested her forehead against his and inhaled his scent. So sweet, so primal. That's why she liked him so much, obsessed over him. They were connected on a basic level, like she always said, and he knew it. From one misguided vampire to another, they were linked. I don't want you to be there, she whispered.

Love, please.

She pulled away from him and saw the concern look on his face. She couldn't deny him. Where the circle stands tall in the hills, a stone barrier. Where gods used to tread. How did it get there? No one knows. Look to the North; see where it glows. Leila laughed gaily. There's some rhymes for the undead poet.

Must you speak in riddles? he groaned.

I may be down and out, but I'm still the same old oxymoron I've always been. I always give you a hard time, she said with a sad smile. I need to go. He-he can't know I left. Spike nodded. Till next time? Spike simply nodded again. Leila tilted her head and brushed her lips against his. Bye, Spike. She turned and fled into the early morning haze.

Spike stood still for a moment and watched her disappearing form. He couldn't believe she was going to do this. Spike slumped back to the townhouse. When he opened the door, Buffy was standing at the bottom of the stairs in a robe.

she greeted.

He closed the door and made his way back up the stairs to his room, Buffy right behind him.

So, I guess you were right, Spike said, sitting down the bed. She came to see me just like you said.

Buffy crawled into his lap and kissed him on the temple. Yes, she did.

Gave me a nice cryptic message too, he added, trying to lighten the mood.

Buffy began, we'll stop this before it gets too far. She doesn't have to die.

No, but she's going to! She's choosing to! he exclaimed. Buffy let him up and he paced the room. She believed me, Buffy. She knows her boss will kill her and she doesn't care.

Of course she cares, Spike. She just knows this is what she is supposed to do.

Yes, it's fated. I get that, I do. But, Buffy, you didn't see her when she first came in here. She looked so small, so scared, she looked like...

An eighteen year old kid?

Spike sighed. I shouldn't be this upset. After what she did and is trying to do, I shouldn't care this much.

Hard not to though. Buffy crossed to Spike and wrapped her arms around his neck. And I love you for it. We'll do what we can just like we always do.

Spike buried his face in the crook of her neck and just let her hold him. His lips parted slightly and moved over the scar he left on Buffy, still red and not completely healed. He gently sucked on the skin, taking great comfort in his mark. Even through his frustration and hatred toward this new Big Bad, he still had Buffy and she was his, wearing his mark proudly for all the world to see.

Buffy's breath caught in her throat at his touch. She turned and pressed her face into his untamed curls. Do you want to go back to bed? she asked almost inaudibly.

Spike pulled back from her neck and hugged her to him. Don't you think we should talk to Rupert first?

Spike, you haven't slept at all and you need to because frankly, you looked wasted.

Spike chuckled. Fine, for a few hours then.

The two walked back to their bed and immediately wrapped their arms around each other. Buffy pulled Spike's head to rest by her shoulder, her fingers slowly wrapping around his hair, soothing him to sleep. Soon, she too found herself unable to stay awake any longer.