Give Up Forever
Chap 1: Starting Anew
Putting his bag down on the curb, he waited for one of Wolfrom's employees to bring his new 'gift' to him. Angel told him it was in the form of a 1973, all black, Ford Mustang; not that it mattered. All he cared about was if it would drive or not when he needed it to. When he voiced his opinion to Angel, all he replied with was that it would run, and maybe do a little more. Spike figured out this meant that his 'boss' had it equipped with extras. He'd find those out later though, when he was bored and on his way to Sequoia or somewhere.
Pulling out his worn cigarette packet, he looked back on the building behind him with a sense of longing. He wanted so badly to go back into it, to see everyone for one last time, for someone to tell him he didn't have to leave. Turning his head back to the street, he pulled out a cig. Nothing could change what needed to happen. It was time for him to leave. Angel and his crew just weren't fitting with him right. Oh, he loved them all in their own special ways, even Harmony when she was quiet, but he just couldn't take it any more. He had to go and be on his own for awhile. To go see where this new 'gift' would lead him.
Placing the fag in his mouth and cupping his hand for the flame, Spike watched as people walked down the sidewalk: couples holding hands, a mother walking a stroller, a business man in a suit, and teenagers, all talking on phones. Breathing in the smoke into his useless lungs, he surveyed them. Watching as they milled about in their own little worlds, oblivious as to what he was and what was in the building behind them. God save them all.
A roar of an engine and a sleek beam of headlights told Spike that his ride was arriving. 'Really pulled out the big ones with this one, huh boss?' he thought. The car was all black. Someone wasn't even able to see the body unless they noticed the chrome hubcaps or the lights of the city reflecting off the paint. Even the windows were tinted so dark that his vampyric sight had a hard time making out the human driving it. As it pulled up to where he was standing, he dropped the last of his cig and stomped it out with his boot. 'Time to do some damage.' ______________________________________
She looked out over the harbor. Portland was quiet, calm tonight. Sitting on her balcony, she pulled her fleece blanket tighter around her built frame. Staring into the water, mindlessly watching the fishing boats pass by, she gave herself time; time to wind down from her ever building day.
Ever since that bus had started back up on the ruined highway, on it's way to the closest form of civilization, Buffy had just stared in awe. As she had looked back at the gaping hole, all she could think about was him. All she saw, in her dreams that followed, in the faces of friends, was him. That perfectly scarred eyebrow; that half quirked smirk that got her mouth watering; and the shape of his mouth when he pursed his lips, just before he would say something that would either piss her off, or turn her on.
Since that life altering day, she had gained pounds. She wasn't allowing herself to become obese or anything, but for once, she had the option of relaxing, indulging. And indulging a lot had brought her curves. Curves that she at first was fascinated by. When she looked in the mirror, she didn't see a teenager, or a growing girl, she saw a woman. And at the ripe, young age of 27, she should have. She had also changed her demeanor. She no longer focused on perfect makeup. If one day she woke up and decided to wear eyeliner with shadow and gloss, that was fine. But she had stopped doing the full throttle, deciding that with no body to impress, she didn't need to.
Her days were now filled with more important things than just the need to kill and sleep, eat and fight. She now had a full time job. With the financial gain she had been able to acquire through the amazing skills of Willow's hacking abilities, she had developed a nice cushion to plant herself down. She had decided to do that in Portland. She had never been there before, and was once told that it was the quietest, most beautiful urban area she could find. After taking care of both Dawn's college fund for UCLA, and her new apartment on the bay, she found that she had had more money than she first realized.
Taking time to talk it through with Giles and the rest of the Scoobies, she had started her own business, Slayers Inc. A shelter and investigation center that treated humans and non-humans alike. Getting some advice from Angel, she had conversed with Xander, and decided that they'd both help co-manage the bustling organization. He needed something that wouldn't have put him in an environment where he wasn't able to know everything going on around him, and she needed to do something stable. Going into service for the community together just seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. And it turned out to be one of the fastest growing investigations team in the state. Truth be told, they were serving more demons and teletransporting beings than anything else, but hey, they were an untapped resource for business. All Buffy had to do nowadays was come into the office every morning, check in on things, talk to some of the new clients, and leave after 2. Then she would have to go investigating with her teams on the cases, but most of them only involved cracking down on some illegal paranormal activity, or fixing a dispute over kittens and poker tables. Xander was the one who oversaw all the legal work, the finances, and which cases they would take or turn down. Buffy had been able to recruit so many slayers into the business that over half of her investigating teams were slayers. They had three teams of four, just in case. Otherwise, the young women were typing and filing documents, or delving into the new clients, to check to see what needed to be done.
Opening her eyes back to her present, she was quick to find out how tired she was, more than she thought, and slowly got up from her heavily cushioned lounge chair. Opening the sliding doors to her bedroom, she closed the balcony and bay behind her. Throwing the fleece blanket onto the bed for extra warmth, she quickly jumped under the covers, and closed her eyes, praying for sleep.
Finding that he was closer now to northern California than he thought, he pulled off the highway at the closest possible exit. It was going to become dawn soon and he needed to stop driving anyway. He was getting sick of seeing cigarette packets and beer bottles litter the leather interior of the sleek Mustang. He'd clean it out later, after he slept and had watched a late rerun of 'Passions'.
Checking into the closest hotel, which just happened to be named 'Sunrise Palace', he quickly climbed into the elevator to go up to his floor. Cursing his electronic key, he was finally able to open his room after 4 tries. 'Bloody technology.' Throwing it onto the nearest table, he flopped down on the bed without even caring if his boots were on. He had, after all, slept in a crypt only a couple of years before.
Getting back on his feet almost instantly, he pulled the drapes closed, happy that there was a thick, heavy curtain. Going back to the edge of the bed, he changed his mind and took off his boots. His pants, shirt, and duster followed. Not having to worry about boxers or briefs, he slipped between the sheets. Smirking, he thought of what some women would think if they knew that he always went commando. His smirk quickly turned into a heavy sigh as his thought drifted to her. He hadn't allowed himself to think about her in, what? Two weeks. That was better than all his other records put together. She was one of the reasons as to why he went off on his own in the first place. While working with Angel, he told his old sire that he didn't want to know anything about her. He didn't want to know where she was or what she was doing. He needed to get her out of his system, even if it meant cutting himself off from all that he knew. He didn't care where he was headed now, as long as it took him away from the risk of seeing her. Believing that as long as he was with Angel, there would always be a risk of her coming to see him. He couldn't have that. After all that had happened with them, he believed that it would be best if he let her live her life as she needed to, without him and all the pain that he caused her.
Smiling, he let himself think of her. 'Just this once, then I'll start that record back up again.' He thought of the way she walked with a little sway in her hips, as if she didn't even know she was doing it, which she probably didn't. How her hair glistened in the moonlight, under the lamps in her living room, or in the indirect sunlight that would sometimes filter through the windows of her house. He loved it when he had been able to catch her during those rare moments, the rare moments of the daytime. Closing his eyes, he let himself dream of her telling himself that he would indulge himself one more time.
Chap 1: Starting Anew
Putting his bag down on the curb, he waited for one of Wolfrom's employees to bring his new 'gift' to him. Angel told him it was in the form of a 1973, all black, Ford Mustang; not that it mattered. All he cared about was if it would drive or not when he needed it to. When he voiced his opinion to Angel, all he replied with was that it would run, and maybe do a little more. Spike figured out this meant that his 'boss' had it equipped with extras. He'd find those out later though, when he was bored and on his way to Sequoia or somewhere.
Pulling out his worn cigarette packet, he looked back on the building behind him with a sense of longing. He wanted so badly to go back into it, to see everyone for one last time, for someone to tell him he didn't have to leave. Turning his head back to the street, he pulled out a cig. Nothing could change what needed to happen. It was time for him to leave. Angel and his crew just weren't fitting with him right. Oh, he loved them all in their own special ways, even Harmony when she was quiet, but he just couldn't take it any more. He had to go and be on his own for awhile. To go see where this new 'gift' would lead him.
Placing the fag in his mouth and cupping his hand for the flame, Spike watched as people walked down the sidewalk: couples holding hands, a mother walking a stroller, a business man in a suit, and teenagers, all talking on phones. Breathing in the smoke into his useless lungs, he surveyed them. Watching as they milled about in their own little worlds, oblivious as to what he was and what was in the building behind them. God save them all.
A roar of an engine and a sleek beam of headlights told Spike that his ride was arriving. 'Really pulled out the big ones with this one, huh boss?' he thought. The car was all black. Someone wasn't even able to see the body unless they noticed the chrome hubcaps or the lights of the city reflecting off the paint. Even the windows were tinted so dark that his vampyric sight had a hard time making out the human driving it. As it pulled up to where he was standing, he dropped the last of his cig and stomped it out with his boot. 'Time to do some damage.' ______________________________________
She looked out over the harbor. Portland was quiet, calm tonight. Sitting on her balcony, she pulled her fleece blanket tighter around her built frame. Staring into the water, mindlessly watching the fishing boats pass by, she gave herself time; time to wind down from her ever building day.
Ever since that bus had started back up on the ruined highway, on it's way to the closest form of civilization, Buffy had just stared in awe. As she had looked back at the gaping hole, all she could think about was him. All she saw, in her dreams that followed, in the faces of friends, was him. That perfectly scarred eyebrow; that half quirked smirk that got her mouth watering; and the shape of his mouth when he pursed his lips, just before he would say something that would either piss her off, or turn her on.
Since that life altering day, she had gained pounds. She wasn't allowing herself to become obese or anything, but for once, she had the option of relaxing, indulging. And indulging a lot had brought her curves. Curves that she at first was fascinated by. When she looked in the mirror, she didn't see a teenager, or a growing girl, she saw a woman. And at the ripe, young age of 27, she should have. She had also changed her demeanor. She no longer focused on perfect makeup. If one day she woke up and decided to wear eyeliner with shadow and gloss, that was fine. But she had stopped doing the full throttle, deciding that with no body to impress, she didn't need to.
Her days were now filled with more important things than just the need to kill and sleep, eat and fight. She now had a full time job. With the financial gain she had been able to acquire through the amazing skills of Willow's hacking abilities, she had developed a nice cushion to plant herself down. She had decided to do that in Portland. She had never been there before, and was once told that it was the quietest, most beautiful urban area she could find. After taking care of both Dawn's college fund for UCLA, and her new apartment on the bay, she found that she had had more money than she first realized.
Taking time to talk it through with Giles and the rest of the Scoobies, she had started her own business, Slayers Inc. A shelter and investigation center that treated humans and non-humans alike. Getting some advice from Angel, she had conversed with Xander, and decided that they'd both help co-manage the bustling organization. He needed something that wouldn't have put him in an environment where he wasn't able to know everything going on around him, and she needed to do something stable. Going into service for the community together just seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. And it turned out to be one of the fastest growing investigations team in the state. Truth be told, they were serving more demons and teletransporting beings than anything else, but hey, they were an untapped resource for business. All Buffy had to do nowadays was come into the office every morning, check in on things, talk to some of the new clients, and leave after 2. Then she would have to go investigating with her teams on the cases, but most of them only involved cracking down on some illegal paranormal activity, or fixing a dispute over kittens and poker tables. Xander was the one who oversaw all the legal work, the finances, and which cases they would take or turn down. Buffy had been able to recruit so many slayers into the business that over half of her investigating teams were slayers. They had three teams of four, just in case. Otherwise, the young women were typing and filing documents, or delving into the new clients, to check to see what needed to be done.
Opening her eyes back to her present, she was quick to find out how tired she was, more than she thought, and slowly got up from her heavily cushioned lounge chair. Opening the sliding doors to her bedroom, she closed the balcony and bay behind her. Throwing the fleece blanket onto the bed for extra warmth, she quickly jumped under the covers, and closed her eyes, praying for sleep.
Finding that he was closer now to northern California than he thought, he pulled off the highway at the closest possible exit. It was going to become dawn soon and he needed to stop driving anyway. He was getting sick of seeing cigarette packets and beer bottles litter the leather interior of the sleek Mustang. He'd clean it out later, after he slept and had watched a late rerun of 'Passions'.
Checking into the closest hotel, which just happened to be named 'Sunrise Palace', he quickly climbed into the elevator to go up to his floor. Cursing his electronic key, he was finally able to open his room after 4 tries. 'Bloody technology.' Throwing it onto the nearest table, he flopped down on the bed without even caring if his boots were on. He had, after all, slept in a crypt only a couple of years before.
Getting back on his feet almost instantly, he pulled the drapes closed, happy that there was a thick, heavy curtain. Going back to the edge of the bed, he changed his mind and took off his boots. His pants, shirt, and duster followed. Not having to worry about boxers or briefs, he slipped between the sheets. Smirking, he thought of what some women would think if they knew that he always went commando. His smirk quickly turned into a heavy sigh as his thought drifted to her. He hadn't allowed himself to think about her in, what? Two weeks. That was better than all his other records put together. She was one of the reasons as to why he went off on his own in the first place. While working with Angel, he told his old sire that he didn't want to know anything about her. He didn't want to know where she was or what she was doing. He needed to get her out of his system, even if it meant cutting himself off from all that he knew. He didn't care where he was headed now, as long as it took him away from the risk of seeing her. Believing that as long as he was with Angel, there would always be a risk of her coming to see him. He couldn't have that. After all that had happened with them, he believed that it would be best if he let her live her life as she needed to, without him and all the pain that he caused her.
Smiling, he let himself think of her. 'Just this once, then I'll start that record back up again.' He thought of the way she walked with a little sway in her hips, as if she didn't even know she was doing it, which she probably didn't. How her hair glistened in the moonlight, under the lamps in her living room, or in the indirect sunlight that would sometimes filter through the windows of her house. He loved it when he had been able to catch her during those rare moments, the rare moments of the daytime. Closing his eyes, he let himself dream of her telling himself that he would indulge himself one more time.