Disclaimer: Captain and Fearless are here! Alas, we are only two poor
girls with too much time on our hands.. We own nothing, except for maybe
our body pillows, but that is it... We don't even own Spike. 'Tis quite a
tragedy... and I've never been to San Francisco, so if I got it wrong it
isn't my fault..
Summary: After the events of Seeing Red, Spike left for Africa. He got rid of the chip and he never came back.. Buffy doesn't have it any better. One of Willow's spells gone wrong caused Buffy to become immortal. Now she has to deal with the loneliness of immortality.
A/N: This is a Spuffy fic. so please have some faith in me, it'll be a while before all the pieces of this story fit into place. This story will have angst. consider yourself warned. I also rated this story R for the language and some of the content. It could be PG-13, but I don't want to risk it. And I know the title is dumb, but I couldn't think of anything else.
I'd like to thank my best friend Fearless for supporting this story. She wanted to see Spike redeem himself chipless and soulless. And so that's what I'm giving her. Hope you like it, babe.
Annie (mjaw): I finally got around to typing it! I hope you enjoy this story. it'd make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks for your support and I'd read your stories anytime! 3
***~~***
Chapter 1 ~ Routine ~
Isn't it strange how you can just live your life, day to day, and not realize how far things have come? How people change and evolve to fit into circumstances. You drudge along with the rest of the human race just to keep your head above water and your ass from being bankrupt. So you can afford the things that you need to exist, things that you need so that you can function. Then, one day, you look up at the calendar and you see more than just the month and the number of that particular day. You notice the year that accompanies the month and day.
When you're immortal the years are nothing to you. If a decade was uneventful it just slipped away into the night like an old woman taking her last breath in her sleep. Peaceful. There might be fond memories of certain days in that decade. These days are strung out through that decade and are cherished but forgotten when they aren't needed. Time meant nothing... it was just a number in a midst of billions of meaningless numbers that somehow keep the earth spinning.
Spike shifted slightly in the bed, his movements slow so his current bed partner wouldn't rouse. He quietly settled into a comfortable position. He laid there and remembered four particular years that changed him the most. The years that opened his eyes and made him, once again, relate to humans. to being a human. Ever since then he hasn't been the same. For once, time had slowed down and meant something to him.
But after he left Sunnydale, and the people that changed him, time sped up again. Normal days meant nothing, and the nights were spent drinking until he was hammered. Fucking the girls that would take him. Those four years were just smoke on the horizon, obviously there but easy to miss.
He felt like he was nothing.. Useless... Just a cold, animated shell that existed for someone else. The only time he felt something was when he was being fucked. It was his way of reliving that last year of that four year duration that had changed him so drastically. Her warm body... the blood pumping in her veins... the heat. The unbelievable heat that he felt when he was with her... inside of her. It was the heat that he craved. He feared that he would always crave it.
He shifted again, not caring if he woke his latest bed mate this time. Besides, he was more than willing for another go if she woke up. When he realized that she wasn't going to wake he slipped out of the bed. His legs carried him across the room to where his clothes were strewn across the tan carpeted floor. He slid on his tight black jeans over his narrow hips, his fingers popped the buttons through the holes. He pulled the black shirt over his head and then sat down to put on his boots. He quickly made sure that he had his lighter and then left the small apartment room. He stalked down alleyways like a panther in the night. Silence deafening.
His orgasmic calm was shattered by thoughts of his past. It never seemed to end. His fists clenched at his sides, his thoughts straying to the woman that stole his heart and broke it. His body screamed for blood but each possible meal seemed to have her eyes. He wasn't good for the sake of being good. He was good for her. For Buffy.
He sighed bitterly as he continued his trek through the narrow alleyways. A dull roar of cars in the distance reminded him of where he was.. deep in the heart of San Francisco. Back in California.... Back in the same state as Sunnydale. He spent many years in New York, being as far away from her as possible without actually leaving the country. But like a moth to flame he was back in California... he couldn't ever seem to let himself stay away for too long.
Reaching his destination he, he pushed all of his Buffy thoughts aside and entered his small hotel room. He didn't bother to turn on a light as he stalked through the door and went for the bathroom, his clothing shed by the time he turned on the shower.
He was dirty.. Dirty from thoughts of Buffy. Dirty from his latest fucktoy's sweat. The scalding water cut into the cold of his skin, making him feel human. The spray of the shower cascaded down his body, his hands pressed against the side of the shower. He leaned his head against the mint green tile as he felt all the energy escape from his body.
This was how it was nearly everyday.... The only difference was the girl's names.... He was in an endless, hopeless, heartbreaking cycle that he couldn't find escape from. He was lost.
TBC.
*************~~~~***********
A/N: Ok, I'd like to also give you guys a poem I just wrote. I thought of it while watching the episode 'End of Days' today. I hope that you like it..
~ We'll go be heroes
and push back what we said
tonight is ours
fire across the sky
passion in our hearts
I just wanna hold you in my arms
say you won't forget me
remember me when I die
I'll love you forever
even if forever ends this night
we'll be heroes for all time
we'll go be heroes tonight ~
Summary: After the events of Seeing Red, Spike left for Africa. He got rid of the chip and he never came back.. Buffy doesn't have it any better. One of Willow's spells gone wrong caused Buffy to become immortal. Now she has to deal with the loneliness of immortality.
A/N: This is a Spuffy fic. so please have some faith in me, it'll be a while before all the pieces of this story fit into place. This story will have angst. consider yourself warned. I also rated this story R for the language and some of the content. It could be PG-13, but I don't want to risk it. And I know the title is dumb, but I couldn't think of anything else.
I'd like to thank my best friend Fearless for supporting this story. She wanted to see Spike redeem himself chipless and soulless. And so that's what I'm giving her. Hope you like it, babe.
Annie (mjaw): I finally got around to typing it! I hope you enjoy this story. it'd make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks for your support and I'd read your stories anytime! 3
***~~***
Chapter 1 ~ Routine ~
Isn't it strange how you can just live your life, day to day, and not realize how far things have come? How people change and evolve to fit into circumstances. You drudge along with the rest of the human race just to keep your head above water and your ass from being bankrupt. So you can afford the things that you need to exist, things that you need so that you can function. Then, one day, you look up at the calendar and you see more than just the month and the number of that particular day. You notice the year that accompanies the month and day.
When you're immortal the years are nothing to you. If a decade was uneventful it just slipped away into the night like an old woman taking her last breath in her sleep. Peaceful. There might be fond memories of certain days in that decade. These days are strung out through that decade and are cherished but forgotten when they aren't needed. Time meant nothing... it was just a number in a midst of billions of meaningless numbers that somehow keep the earth spinning.
Spike shifted slightly in the bed, his movements slow so his current bed partner wouldn't rouse. He quietly settled into a comfortable position. He laid there and remembered four particular years that changed him the most. The years that opened his eyes and made him, once again, relate to humans. to being a human. Ever since then he hasn't been the same. For once, time had slowed down and meant something to him.
But after he left Sunnydale, and the people that changed him, time sped up again. Normal days meant nothing, and the nights were spent drinking until he was hammered. Fucking the girls that would take him. Those four years were just smoke on the horizon, obviously there but easy to miss.
He felt like he was nothing.. Useless... Just a cold, animated shell that existed for someone else. The only time he felt something was when he was being fucked. It was his way of reliving that last year of that four year duration that had changed him so drastically. Her warm body... the blood pumping in her veins... the heat. The unbelievable heat that he felt when he was with her... inside of her. It was the heat that he craved. He feared that he would always crave it.
He shifted again, not caring if he woke his latest bed mate this time. Besides, he was more than willing for another go if she woke up. When he realized that she wasn't going to wake he slipped out of the bed. His legs carried him across the room to where his clothes were strewn across the tan carpeted floor. He slid on his tight black jeans over his narrow hips, his fingers popped the buttons through the holes. He pulled the black shirt over his head and then sat down to put on his boots. He quickly made sure that he had his lighter and then left the small apartment room. He stalked down alleyways like a panther in the night. Silence deafening.
His orgasmic calm was shattered by thoughts of his past. It never seemed to end. His fists clenched at his sides, his thoughts straying to the woman that stole his heart and broke it. His body screamed for blood but each possible meal seemed to have her eyes. He wasn't good for the sake of being good. He was good for her. For Buffy.
He sighed bitterly as he continued his trek through the narrow alleyways. A dull roar of cars in the distance reminded him of where he was.. deep in the heart of San Francisco. Back in California.... Back in the same state as Sunnydale. He spent many years in New York, being as far away from her as possible without actually leaving the country. But like a moth to flame he was back in California... he couldn't ever seem to let himself stay away for too long.
Reaching his destination he, he pushed all of his Buffy thoughts aside and entered his small hotel room. He didn't bother to turn on a light as he stalked through the door and went for the bathroom, his clothing shed by the time he turned on the shower.
He was dirty.. Dirty from thoughts of Buffy. Dirty from his latest fucktoy's sweat. The scalding water cut into the cold of his skin, making him feel human. The spray of the shower cascaded down his body, his hands pressed against the side of the shower. He leaned his head against the mint green tile as he felt all the energy escape from his body.
This was how it was nearly everyday.... The only difference was the girl's names.... He was in an endless, hopeless, heartbreaking cycle that he couldn't find escape from. He was lost.
TBC.
*************~~~~***********
A/N: Ok, I'd like to also give you guys a poem I just wrote. I thought of it while watching the episode 'End of Days' today. I hope that you like it..
~ We'll go be heroes
and push back what we said
tonight is ours
fire across the sky
passion in our hearts
I just wanna hold you in my arms
say you won't forget me
remember me when I die
I'll love you forever
even if forever ends this night
we'll be heroes for all time
we'll go be heroes tonight ~