What If Chapter 7: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, a buffy: the vampire slayer fanfic

Chapter Seven: Ashes to Ashes Dust to Dust

(Thanks again for all the support. I'm actually having a good time writing this. You may all hate me though after you read this. Review!)

Buffy sat in one of the desks in a classroom. "I sat here and daydreamed about Riley," she admitted to Tara. Remembering her soldier-boy boyfriend made her smile, bittersweet. She truly loved Riley, but something held her back. Probably Spike, she snorted trying to stifle a laugh at her thought. Spike. 'When I first saw you, I wanted to kill you,' his confession about their first meeting turned over in her mind. How dare he tell her that. She knew it was just his way of clearing his conscience after the return of his soul. Spike was never much for tact, he preferred to tell it like it is.

Spike. Their kiss in the alley behind the Bronze after that crazy day of singing and dancing. It that last song, the last song when he stopped her from combusting into flames, telling her that she needed to go on living, so that one of them was living. In that moment, something sparked in Buffy, she realized his love for her, and as much as she refused to believe it, she knew deep in her heart that she was drawn to him.

After that, he professed his love for her again, and she beat him into mush. Then they had a wild, passionate fight ending with them having sex. Crashing through a termite-eaten floor was definitely not how Buffy pictured her ever doing it, but it worked. She could remember how he stroked her tongue with his and she tugged at his bottom lip with every kiss. When he was on top of her, her body writhing underneath, she knew drove him insane. He had made her scream in pleasure and she got him off every time she'd tie him up and play with him. Funny, she thought, how they hadn't done it since he returned with his soul. Maybe she was still afraid of what happened the last time she screwed a souled vampire.

Angel. Her heart actually ached every time she thought of him. Her first love. He had loved her with all his heart and she returned it without hesitation. It was her fault he lost his soul. It could've been romantic. The whole 'His soul was taken from him because he had experienced a single moment of true happiness' and it was with Buffy. A very Shakespearean story. Angel left and Buffy was once again a lonely creature of the night. Only fitting that she find another being not too unlike herself.

Still Spike was different that Angel. Angel was beautiful and romantic, and sensitive. And Spike was pouty, and selfish, sensual and broody. Well they were both pretty broody. Maybe it was a vampire trait. Angel wallowed in his thoughts while Spike shrugged them off, burying them in a locked coffin in his brain. When Buffy kissed Angel she burst with love, when she kissed Spike she felt guilty pleasure. They both had been Big Baddies in their time, Angel being the worse of the two. Despite everything, Buffy trusted Spike with her life countless times and he had on more than one occasion saved her and her friends from danger. He had never lied to her, he was there for her when she came back from the dead, he truly, truly loved her. Shit, he got his soul back for her. Spike.

His kisses were intense and powerful. He poured every single emotion he had into each one, making Buffy feel it. Whenever he touched her, explosions of electricity surged in her body. When he was inside her, thrusting into her, he was gentle. Yeah, they had some rough n' tumble sessions, but in their love-making he was totally tender. Like he was afraid to break her.

"Buffy?" Tara roused the slayer out of her daydream.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Let's walk," stretching out of the seat, Buffy continued on with Tara.

"Listen, guys. I'm a lot better now," Willow pleaded. "See, all better." She wasn't in vamp mode, but Spike saw through that facade. He used that trick.

"Uh uh, Red," he shook a finger at her. "Not fallin' for that one." He was stuck baby-sitting the new vampire, Dawn-the-ball-of-light, and Xander. He didn't mind it, much. Better than being stuck in a glob of goo. Anya and Giles were in the kitchen researching in some musty book, while the potentials were in the backyard training. Kennedy still hadn't woken up, but Giles said the color in her face had returned.

"Seriously, Spike," she said widening her eyes. "You don't wanna keep me cooped up."

"Do not (cough cough) let her out, (cough cough cough)," Xander told Spike.

Willow jerked her head toward Xander. "I smell blood," she said in a sing-song voice. "You smell good, Xander." She looked over at Spike, licking her lips. "What do you say, Spike? Untie me and we'll have a snack."

Spike smirked. "Yeah, well, I'd love t'join you, Red, but Xander's been bleedin' for a while. He's a li'l rank, I y'know what I mean."

Willow smiled evilly. She looked at Xander and chopped her jaw together. "Uh, thanks Spike. (cough cough) I guess," Xander mumbled.

"He's getting worse," Dawn whispered to Spike. He glanced at Xander. The bleeding was getting worse, the herbs had stopped working. His breathing seemed ragged and shallow, he groaned in pain every few minutes. "Maybe we need to wake Buffy up." She suggested.

Spike sighed, frustrated. He couldn't very well go upstairs and try to wake Buffy up himself. Willow could barely get through to the unconscious slayer and he didn't have the ability to connect with her like Willow did. Or did he? "Wait 'ere," he told Dawn. "Call for the watcher if Willow gets loose." He bounded up the stairs. 'C'mon Spike,' he said to himself. 'You've got t'do this. For her.'

Buffy and Tara were still walking around the school. Now, kids surrounded them, running through the halls, laughing, making out, and talking. Principal Snyder was seen a couple of times. Buffy recognized the day as being the day of Parent's Night. She was on the verge of getting expelled by Principal Snyder, the guy who had it out for her from day one, and she was forced to set up refreshments for the parents.

Just then, right after the sun had set, vamps burst through the doors and windows. They were ready to wreck havoc. Past-Buffy, slightly recognizing some of the vampires from the Bronze, ushered her Mom and the Principal into an empty classroom, and went into Slayer mode. She dusted a few vamps quickly, then was stopped by a familiar, bleach blond vampire wearing a leather, black trench coat and a smirk.

Buffy turned to Tara. "I remember this. This night."

Tara stopped the scene with a wave of her hand. She looked at Buffy with an almost sad expression in her eyes. "Do you really want to see what happens next?"

Clueless, Buffy replied, "Sure. I know what happens next." Tara nodded and waved her hand again, continuing the encounter. Buffy observed her and Spike in their first encounter.

"Do we really need weapons for this?" Buffy asked.

Spike, with a stick in hand, smirked, smart-ass like, "I just like them." He replied and ran his hand down his chest to the top of his pants. "They make me feel all manly."

Then the fight began. A kick and a punch from Buffy. Back hand and trip from Spike. Buffy clocked him in the face. And he sent her flying back , crashing to the floor. He was on top of her. "C'mon Slayer," he taunted. "I di'n't think it would be this easy."

She shoved him off, he stumbled back. She grabbed the wooden stick he had dropped, she plunged it into his heart, perfect. "It was for me," she replied. She dropped the stick and ran for her mother.

Buffy stood there in shock, staring, unblinking at the pile of dust on the floor. Spike. She dropped to her knees and sifted through the ash with her fingers. She fished out a small, silver lighter. "Spike," she whispered.

Spike was up in her room. He stood in the doorway, basking in her beauty. "Snap out of it," he ordered himself. He sat on her bed. "Buffy?" He said tentatively. "Buffy?" When she didn't wake, he muttered, "Bugger this," and placed his hands on the sides of her head as Willow had done. 'Concentrate, Spike," he said to himself. He closed his eyes and focused on Buffy. "C'mon, slayer. I know you're there."

As soon as he focused on her, he was transported to where ever Buffy was. A room completely stark-white. Buffy rocking back and forth, her knees brought up to her chest. "Buffy, what are you doing?" He ran over and knelt in front of her. "Cor, Buff, y'need to get up. Everything's gone wonky," He pulled her arm up, but she stayed put.

"No. No," she said wrestling to free his grip. "You're not real."

"Oh God. The First's got to you. Don't worry, luv. I'm 'ere now," he bent down to scoop her up, but she moved away.

"No! You're not real, I killed you!" She screamed. Spike looked at her in confusion. The sudden sound of breaking glass caused Spike to whirl around. An all too familiar set played out.

"Do we really need weapons for this?" Buffy asked.

Spike, with a stick in hand, smirked, smart-ass like, "I just like them." He replied and ran his hand down his chest to the top of his pants. "They make me feel all manly."

But then something happened that Spike didn't remember. He remembered Joyce, Buffy's mother, whacking him on the back of the head with an ax. Instead, Buffy shoved him off and he stumbled back. She grabbed the wooden stick he had dropped, she plunged it into his heart, perfect. "It was for me," she replied.

Spike withdrew his hands from Buffy, breaking his connection with her. "Argh!" He yelled feeling the wooded stake through his heart. This is how he was going to go out. Staked by his unconscious lover. Right before crumbling to dust, he whispered, "Buffy."