Mementos by TwilightChild

Chapter #1 - Prologue

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belonging to the show are not of my creation. I take no credit for them. Author’s Notes: Much thanks to my wonderful beta for this story, slaymesoftly, who was patient, wonderful and supportive all throughout the writing of ‘Seven Days’. Also, many thanks to all my wonderful readers, for whom I have written this alternate ending/sequel. ************************************************************************ Previously… “I miss you…” Her heart flooded with a warmth unlike anything she had felt before. The burdens of the past had been laid to rest. She had given her heart completely, and despite the pain, she didn’t regret a moment of it. Her life ahead was full of much smaller hurdles, and she could just begin to imagine what it would be like. Her sister and friends were safe, and their paths were clear. She was hurt, but she was alright. Buffy would live, she would love, and she would dance with her lover watching over her, always. “Rest well, Spike.” ……………………………………………………………………………………………. A bright light flared from the amulet, then nearly exploded with black dust. A gust of wind sent the papers of Angel’s desk flying. The dust circled over the amulet, rising more and more until a skeleton could be seen in the center, hand raised in defense ofits skull. Muscle formed on bone, expanding and finally showing the full shape of a man. The sound of someone crying out in defiance and pain could be heard just as flesh began to cover exposed muscle, then black clothing and white hair completing the figure. The wind was gone, and the ashes were gone. Spike stood in the office, doubled over and breathing hard. He squinted, looking around him in suspicious confusion. The faces he saw certainly weren’t what he expected. “The hell…?” “Spike…” Wesley was the first to speak, obviously stunned. “Spike.” Angel’s furious voice followed. A blond head poked into the office. “Blondie bear?” Spike looked from one to the other, wide-eyed and beyond confused. “Have I gone on tour, or somethin’?” …………………………………………………………………………………………… Mementos Winifred Burkle was the only one to occupy the lab of Walfram and Hart at 3 AM . The room was dim, since she only needed one small light over the small counter she had set up her equipment on. She had discovered that one of the perks of living in one of the penthouses of WR&H was that she had an entire lab to occupy her thoughts if she was ever struck with a case of insomnia. Actually, all she had really been struck with was a case of conscience. The lab was too quiet. The small hairs on the back of Fred’s neck stood up. She turned quickly to look behind her, but all she saw was testing equipment. Shrugging, she turned back around and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the bleached blond standing in front of her. “Spike!” The smirk on his face was subdued. “You knew I was here.” “Well, yeah…” She gave a meek little shrug and fixed her glasses. “But the popping up out of nowhere got to me.” He walked around her, standing by the table and wrapping his arms around himself, as if cold. “Thanks all the same…” He caught sight of the amulet laying on the table, and nodded towards it. “Still investigating the bauble?” Fred studied the ghost for a moment. Some of his usual energy seemed sapped right out of him. “What is it, Spike?” Smirking, he shook his head. “That obvious, am I?” She nodded. “Always.” Shrugging, he began to pace. “Just Angel, is all…” He ducked his head, not wanting to meet her gaze. “He still won’t call her…” “Buffy?” He nodded. “Claims she’s got better things to worry about. That this would only be an…inconvenience to her.” Fred smiled sympathetically. “Don’t you worry too much, Spike. Soon, I’ll have this figured out, and you can call her all on your own.” “She’d come, you know…I know bloody well, she’d come.” Not knowing what to say in return, Fred turned back to her work. Curious, Spike peered over her shoulder, at the amulet. “Fred…was wonderin` somethin`” “Yeah?” “The amulet…you said that it’s been holding my soul this entire time…ever since the Hellmouth closed, right?” She nodded, most of her concentration still on her work. “I, um…I saw something…between now and then…after I burned up, I…” Her interest struck, Fred turned to face him again. “What did you see?” He ducked his head again, looking nervous. “I saw…something…something different than the hell that’s trying to drag me in, that’s for sure…it wasn’t heaven…it was…” He sighed. “It was exactly what I wanted to see…” “While you were in the amulet?” “Don’t know…it didn’t feel like I was in the amulet. I remember being somewhere else, being WITH someone else…I was happy there…” Fred frowned, going over the small puzzle. “Well, we got the amulet from Wolfram and Hart…we suspect that they were trying to trap Angel inside of it, bind him to this place, the way you’re bound. You were stuck inside of it that entire time…” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s another trick. Maybe the amulet has a way of showing you what you want to see, while you’re trapped inside.” Spike looked as if his entire world had fallen out from under him. He stared hard at her, and for a moment Fred wondered if ghosts could get any paler. When he closed his eyes tight and placed a trembling hand over his mouth, she grew even more concerned. “Spike?” She moved closer to him. “Spike, what…?” He shook his head, holding out a hand to try and stop her from coming any closer. “That’s not true…that’s impossible. I know what happened, and there’s no way that that could have all been just some illusion…” “Spike, what did you see?” Spike had to get away. He stepped back from her, then reached back to lean against the counter. His hand fell through, soon followed by the rest of him. He toppled down through the floor and out of sight. “Spike?” *********************************************************************** Pictures were scattered absolutely everywhere. There were at least five photo albums that everything had to be sorted into. The Summers women had had a hell of a vacation, and they had been determined to document everything. “I still can’t believe you climbed that mountain without any gear.” Dawn rolled her eyes. “I thought you were over all suicidal tendencies, but…” Buffy gave her a light shove. “It wasn’t suicidal. It was just…fun.” “Fun? Buffy, it was SNOWING for one…” She waved a picture of The Slayer looking frozen but determined after falling into a large pile of snow. “Ooo, give me that one!” She snatched the picture out of Dawn’s hand, then slipped it into the black leather photo album that she had chosen. Dawn made a face. “I don’t know why you picked that one…since when did you go all goth? Seriously, Buffy, look-“ she held up a purple and green photo album that she had been using. “This one looks MUCH better…” “No thanks,” Buffy slipped a few more pictures in. “I’m happy with this one.” Her younger sister rolled her eyes again, but then squealed as she heard the doorbell. “That’s Andrew! I sent him to get some more pictures developed!” The Slayer watched her sister hop over piles of pictures and struggle to get to the door. She shook her head, smiling indulgently as she looked down at her photo album. It was black leather, with a polished silver frame. She flipped idly through the pictures for a moment, before coming to the very back of the album. There, etched in silver, were two words: For Spike. ************************************************************************ Another Author’s Note: Come on now, you all didn’t honestly think I was going to make it EASY, did you? Stay tuned for more chapters!

Chapter #2 - Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belonging to the show are not of my creation. I take no credit, and I make no money. Author’s Notes: Thank you again to Slaymesoftly, who is a wonderful beta and has helped me improve my writing style a great deal. Also, much thanks to all my wonderful readers and reviewers. ************************************************************************ Spike was afraid. In fact, Spike was terrified. There were very few things that could terrify the Big Bad, but the telephone sitting in front of him happened to be one of them. The Vampire had been solid, corporeal for days. What he hadn’t been was at all sure about his next step. His every instinct screamed to pick up the phone, call Buffy, or just get on a ship and go find her. Still, he couldn’t pick up the phone. Why trust his instincts when he had been told he might not be able to trust his memories? His memories told him that he had spent a glorious week with Buffy, in some sort of re-make of Sunnydale. They had showered one another with the fullest extent of their love, confessed every feeling, every deed…they had made their own paradise. The love they had experienced and shown one another was the greatest of Spike’s dreams. But that was just it. What if it was only a dream? What if it had been only a delusion created by the amulet he had been trapped inside to keep him cozy? It had been exactly what he needed to see. It was everything that he had ever wanted, and suddenly it all seemed far too easy and too good to be true. Alright, time to think. What if he went through with it? What if he picked up the phone like he had planned since popping up in Angel’s office? He knew for certain that one of two things would happen: The Slayer would also remember everything that had transpired between them in not-Sunnydale, be beyond thrilled to hear from him, confess her love yet again, and the two would walk arm and arm to whatever home she chose. They would see the world together, just as Buffy had said she wanted. Spike would get to make his peace with Dawn, and he would take both of them to every place he had ever been, and show them everything he had ever seen. Or. He would call and find out that none of it had been real. All his dreams would be shattered as he talked to a reluctant Buffy who was vaguely happy to hear that he was alive and well. He would end up intruding on her life, trying to recreate the dream that had given him more happiness than anything ever could. Spike pulled away from the table, gaining more distance from the phone as he realized the truth. If he had to find out that what he’d experienced wasn’t real, it would break him. He would be reduced to a babbling mess, similar to what he had been right after he’d gotten the soul. There would be nothing left for him, no more hope. If he called, his heart could possibly be shattered. If he remained in Los Angeles, there was a chance that he could hold on, and still believe it was real. He had to believe it was real. With a dejected sigh, Spike stood. He couldn’t believe that he was even considering the coward’s way out. Slipping on his duster and patting it down for his lighter, he headed out the door of the office that he’d ‘borrowed’. He desperately needed to kill something. ************************************************************************ Buffy had been left in their little apartment to finish packing up. They were moving again. They’d been to places in the world that the Slayer hadn’t even allowed herself to dream of seeing. They had album on top of album, to the point where she was sure they would need another bedroom just to fit it all. She was just packing the last of them, finally coming to a black leather photo album. She smiled, having been purposely saving that one for last. Thumbing through it, she realized that it was almost full. They had done so many things, been to so many places…Buffy had chosen only the pictures that she knew Spike would have enjoyed most, a sparse few out of the whole group, and it was still enough to almost fill the album. She reached the back of the photo album and traced Spike’s name with her fingertip. It still always saddened her; that she had no real reminders except marks he’d left on her body, and little things that she created. “It does get a little easier…” she whispered softly to the name she traced with her fingertips. “But still, I just wish-“ The door opening interrupted her musing. She discreetly slipped the album into the box, closing it to keep it out of site. When she turned around, she was greeted by Xander, with a wry grin on his face giving her a small wave. “Hey!” Buffy hopped over a box, overbalancing and tumbling into her friend’s arms. Their embrace was firm, obviously an attempt to make up for weeks of no contact. “When did you get here?” she asked. “Just last night…” When the hug ended, Buffy set about moving boxes off of what little furniture was left to provide a place to sit. “So what’s the big news? What did you need to talk about?” “Well, I was going to wait until the others were around to hear, but…” He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I met someone.” Buffy frowned, turning to face him again. “You what?” “I…you know…met someone.” “Someone…?” Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh. Someone. As in…someone someone?” He nodded. “I’m kind of hoping…” The Slayer was a bit confused, but she tried not to let it show. “Well, that’s…great. Really, that’s great for you. I mean, I sort of thought your trip was for mourning, not so much dating…” Sighing, Xander sat down heavily on the arm of the couch. “It just happened, Buff…I’m not entirely sure how it did, but it did. And you know what? I’m glad it did. No more moping for the Xan Man.” “Right…” Buffy nodded. “No more moping.” She turned back to her boxes; awkwardly rearranging the inside of one to make things that fit fine fit better. Clasping his hands together, Xander peered around the cluttered apartment. “So what about the Buffster? I noticed you’re still moping.” “Hey!” She huffed indignantly. “I am not moping. Have you seen all the vacationing we’ve been doing? SO not moping here!” “Yeah, but…I noticed you haven’t really…met someone.” The Slayer sighed wearily. “And when have I ever really had time for that?” Xander adjusted his eye patch, something that seemed to become a nervous habit for him. “Look, Buffy…I don’t know what went on between you and bleach boy…I’m not going to pretend to know or understand how you felt-“ “I loved him.” The words were the first she had spoken without any hesitance. Her voice was almost hard, and she was looking him straight in the eye. It was the first time Xander had ever really heard those words from her, regarding Spike, and he had to swallow back a sarcastic retort. “Alright…you loved him.” He nodded, avoiding her gaze. “It’s…weird, on many levels…but, ok. Buffy finally took a seat across from her friend, the two sitting in awkward silence as they studied only their hands. “So…what now?” Xander finally asked. “What do you mean?” “Well…you loved him. I get it. So, what now?” She sighed in exasperation. “Look, I’m just not sure-“ “Do you think Anya would want me to move on?” The question immediately threw her off balance. “I…Xander, of course she –“ “I’m talking about honestly.” Xander smiled wryly. “I don’t understand…” “Come on, Buff…no one wants to think about the one they love moving on. No one really wants to think that they’ve been forgotten, or that the other person could live and find happiness without them…but the thing is, Anya’s the only person I know that would have actually said it.” There was a warmth and affection in Xander’s voice that brought the Slayer to silence. She quietly watched Xander as he struggled with his emotions. There was just a hint of tears, but none that actually fell. “I love Anya,” he finally spoke again. “I do. She was the most honest person I had ever met – I don’t think she really knew how to be otherwise. She had been around for a thousand years, but sometimes she just seemed so innocent, you know? And there was no ‘mystery of women’ problems…I mean, yeah, a lot of times I didn’t get her…but she at least always let me knew when I did something wrong, or how to make her feel good. That’s something I’m really going to miss, especially when starting all over again.” Buffy wasn’t sure what to say. She laced her fingers together; her gaze settling on what little remained of the burn scars between the fingers of one hand. “But this isn’t about Anya.” Xander decided to continue, once he realized his friend wasn’t going to join in. “This is about me. I’m the one that’s still here, the one that’s alone every night. I’m the one that still has to live every day.” He tried to catch his friend’s gaze. “And so do you, Buff.” She looked up at him with vulnerable eyes that were wide and watery. “I am living…things are good, and –“ “You’re living alone, Buffy. You’re making sure that you live alone.” He shook his head. “Look, I’m not saying you’ve got to go out and pick some guy up. It’s just…” He noticed the closed-off expression his friend had on her face, and nodded. “It’s none of my business. I know that.” He stood and wrapped his arms around her in a supportive hug, before turning and navigating his way back to the door. “Look, I’m going to go see Willow before she takes off with Kennedy. We’ll talk more tonight, cool?” The Slayer managed a small smile and nodded. She didn’t bother looking up from her clasped hands, even after she heard the door close and could no longer hear his footsteps.

Chapter #3 - Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the series and all characters belonging to both television shows are not of my creation. I poke fun of them for my own amusement, and the amusement of friends on line. I make no profit for what I write, which sucks since it’s what I spend most of my time doing. Author’s Notes: This chapter takes place during ATS season 5’s ‘The Girl in Question’. Much thanks to my beta, slaymesoftly, and all my wonderful readers and reviewers who are going to hang me for this chapter. ********************************************************************** Flashing lights and music that made it feel like your heart was pumping at a rhythm to match the bass. It was just like any other club, all over the world. Only this time, it was in Rome Buffy was on the arm of the Immortal, and he was escorting her to some of the finest places in the city. It was fun, but it just didn’t feel like her. Sometimes, it was easy to forget whom she was with. He was perfect and polite, which, to her, made him fade in the background. She could dance all by her lonesome, even while he was moving gracefully right beside her. There was no awkwardness to his movements, and he always made things seem like a fairy tale. Then, the feeling hit, and her partner faded into the background even more. He was there. The tinglies that warned of the presence of a vampire raced up the back of her neck at the same moment the warmth of his presence seemed to surround her. She could feel him. She spun around, suddenly desperate to get a glimpse. All she could see were pressing and writhing bodies, sweating and yearning. They blocked her view of everything. But, that didn’t really matter. She knew he couldn’t be there. Buffy had long since stopped getting hopeful. When they had been in England, she had always caught a glimpse of something, or heard an accent that made her heart leap for joy, only to have it plummet in the dirt. “Something wrong?” Her date’s gentle touch against her back nearly made her shiver. Buffy turned to face him, then smiled. It took some effort to shrug it off. “No, nothing wrong at all.” She practically dived back into the dancing crowd to prove her words. Her body moved gracefully amidst the others surrounding her. She could barely see the Immortal, though he was always watching her. For a moment, Buffy could imagine someone else was watching her, too. His presence still made her body tingle. Her heart swelled with the thought that he was watching, at that moment, somehow standing there with her. A memory of their last night together surfaced in her mind, and she could hear Spike’s voice… ‘Dance for me…’ Closing her eyes, she let her body sway and arch. She twirled and stepped easily through the crowd, instinctually knowing where each person was, even as they all faded away. She was dancing only for one, and nothing else mattered. A hand on her arm stopped her joyful dance. She spun around to see the Immortal towering over her, and scolded herself when her heart fell. Buffy smiled brightly for him. “What’s up? Not dancing anymore?” He gave a patient smile. “It’s time to take our leave, cara…” He cast his glance over her head. It was only then that Buffy could hear the faint sound of a scuffle at the far end of the club. The scuffle was turning into a full-out fight. “Anyone you know?” She asked him. “Someone who knows me.” He wrapped an arm around her casually, and led her towards the other door. The brief thought that Spike would enjoy watching or jumping into the fight flashed through her mind. Buffy grinned, imagining that Spike had been watching both her dance, and the fight itself. The mental image of him sitting up in the rafters with a bowl of popcorn made her giggle. When the Immortal looked down at her with an arched brow, she gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. *********************************************************************** Andrew and the poof were arguing. Looking at the two, Spike wasn’t sure which one was more of a poof. All he knew was that he was standing in Buffy’s apartment. It was the third time they had visited that night. He and Angel had been sure the Slayer was under some sort of spell. It was the only way she could be associating with The Immortal…right? Sighing, he let the other two have it out. He had no interest in being part of the argument anymore. He hadn’t said a thing since they’d gotten there. He was too busy taking it in. Buffy’s apartment…her scent and Dawn’s were everywhere. It felt like being back at their home in Sunnydale. The ache in his chest couldn’t be banished, so he let himself wander around the living room. He wanted to go into Buffy’s room, but he didn’t dare…If the Immortal’s scent was there too, and he had to smell what they’d been up to… He blanched at the thought. He looked back over at Angel, who was sitting on the couch, a hand over his face. “Uh, Spike, is Angel crying?” Andrew suddenly asked him. “No!” Spike immediately stood up for his Grandsire. “…not yet.” “May want to hold off the waterworks, big guy.” Andrew said. “The Immortal’s cool and all, but he ain't all that. He's got his flaws.” “Really?” Angel asked. Spike didn’t want to hear it. He turned away from them again, his eyes drawn to a shelf close to the television. There were pictures everywhere…frames and small albums out where anyone could see them. He smiled softly at the sight of his girls…most of the pictures were of Buffy and Dawn, only some of them with the Scoobies. “The point is, she’s moving on,” He heard Andrew say. “You guys do the same, and you might catch her one day. One of you, anyway. But you keep running in place, you're gonna find she's long gone.” “It is a bit silly…” Spike spotted an album made of black leather and silver, and discretely swiped it. He shoved it into his coat, hiding it from view. “Us... chasin' around like a couple of henpecked teenagers.” “Buffy loves both of you, but she’s got to live her life. People change…” The two vampires left reluctantly, trudging down the dark streets of Rome. Spike was unusually silent, his head bowed. His hand was almost constantly reaching into his duster, his fingertips gently brushing against the soft black leather of the album, holding what he was sure would be the only reminders of his Slayer and the Nibblit. He knew he shouldn’t have swiped it, but he just couldn’t bear leaving without something of them to hold on to…

Chapter #4 - Chapter 3

Disclaimer: These characters aren’t mine, I just have my wicked way with them. Author’s Note: Much thanks to Slaymesoftly, who made this chapter decent after I’d written it while half-asleep. Also, many thanks to my wonderful reviewers. ******************************************************************** It was wet and miserable. That wasn’t something you got to say often about a dream place like Rome. Buffy decided that she would take advantage. She couldn’t exactly make plans to go out and party. It was a weekday, full of idle chores. It was a day to just stay indoors, and make excuses to not step outside. The Slayer did step outside, though. She had new pictures to pick up. As she fumbled with the key to her apartment, she was already sorting through them. She had only two more empty slots in Spike’s album, and she wanted to pick the perfect pictures. The fact that the album was about to be full brought a sense of apprehension. It felt almost like letting go of something, completing something. But she wasn’t about to let go of it. She had every intention of picking out another album, and then another after that. She would fill photo albums and make memories specifically to show Spike, who, she was positive, was at least occasionally looking over her shoulder. The thought brought to the surface a memory from their seven days together.. She remembered sitting with Spike on the couch in her long buried living room, picking through photo albums and sharing her childhood memories. He’d listened to everything she’d said with rapt attention, wanting to catch every moment of her life while he still could. Deep blue eyes, bleached blonde hair, dark eyebrows with a curved scar on one, sharp cheekbones and straight nose…and the lips, the bottom one full and curved invitingly… Everything about him was unforgettable and unique, but still, time threatened to blur the edges of her memory. As Buffy pushed the door to her apartment open and tossed down the pictures, she wished desperately that she could have just one lasting image of the man who had shaken her world to its core. She was sure that an album dedicated to him should have at least one picture of him… Reaching for the album, Buffy was surprised when her fingertips came in contact with the table. Frowning, she looked around the entire surface. There were the usual frames, but not the album. Since they’d moved to the apartment, she hadn’t moved from it’s assigned spot, unless it was to put more pictures in. As if it would sneak up on her, Buffy looked again. She then began to search around the surrounding tables. It had never left the living room, and suddenly, it was gone. It was nowhere to be found. She began moving the furniture, leaning the tables and chairs over to get a look under them, as if it might have fallen. When it was still nowhere to be found, Buffy felt the beginnings of tears. She held them back stubbornly as she began to rip the cushions off the couch; then tipped over the table it usually rested on. Photo frames fell to the floor and shattered loudly. “Where is it…? DAWN!” ********************************************************************* Spike stumbled back into his basement apartment, slamming the door behind him. His nerves were shot, and his every movement gave the impression of the heavy consumption of alcohol. But that had just been liquid courage. His nerves were shot because he had just read poetry in public for the first time in over one hundred years. It didn’t matter how much of a ‘Big Bad’ he was, he had had no intention of ever facing a crowd like that again. But they had applauded. He hadn’t been cast out or ridiculed, so he was feeling all right. The only problem was, he was starting to sober up, and the mission ahead still loomed darkly. Sighing, he plopped down on the couch, groaning as he rested his head. What little light he had in the room was irritating, but he didn’t want to shut it off. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. Spike was pretty sure it was going to be his last peaceful night on earth, and he had no idea how to spend it. So, why not reminiscing? Cracking an eye open, he caught sight of the black leather photo album that he had swiped from Buffy’s apartment. He hadn’t looked at it once, just kept it close. The faint scent of her perfume and her skin had clung to it for a short time, before fading away. Buffy’s and Dawn’s smiling faces peered out at him. He’d been a coward about the whole thing, but all he’d really wanted was a piece of the past. Now, it was the last night of peace he would ever know, and he wanted his Slayer and his Nibblit. Shaking off his slight stupor, he took the album. He handled it like it was made of glass, the last precious thing in his world. The very first picture was of the two sisters together. Buffy and Dawn had their arms wrapped around one another, each with a fishing pole. They were supporting one another in their laughter as a fish flopped wildly across both their laps. Spike couldn’t help but smile. A bittersweet ache rose in his chest as he traced his fingertips across the picture. He had rarely ever seen such joy and laughter between the two of them. He’d rarely ever seen Buffy laugh, at least until the week they had spent together… He tried his best to push away the thought of the seven days he wasn’t sure were real. It always haunted him. Each time he woke up, he’d imagine his Slayer there beside him, where she had been during that time…she had always greeted him with warm smiles and gentle or passionate kisses… Then again, there had been that time he’d woken up in handcuffs, with her massaging him and giving his arse cheek a good bite… Again, he pushed the false memory aside. The next picture was of all the Scoobies together, glasses raised towards the camera. They sat around a large dining room. Some of the smiles were strained, but they were together, looking victorious. There were pictures of the two sisters exploring London, but it was the last of those that caught his eye, and nearly blew his mind. Buffy was standing on the porch of a house in London, between two houses that Spike recognized intimately. The house she was standing at wasn’t familiar, but that was because the house he would have recognized had burned down many years ago. She was standing right where the house he had grown up in used to be. Spike couldn’t remember ever giving her a last name, or a date or place of birth…he’d rarely ever spoken of his human life. How much research must it have taken for her to find the place of his birth, of his human life? He felt the emotion rise at the very thought that she would have gone to that much trouble just to know him better. “Get over yourself, you git, it’s probably just a coincidence…” Against his will, her voice rose up from his memory, stirred by the touching picture. ‘I don’t care about that…’ she had whispered to him. ‘I don’t want those places…or those things, or that time…I don’t want to think about next month, or next year…’ She had squeezed his hand hard and kissed his fingertips with tender desperation. ‘I just want what’s right here, ok?’ He forced the voices away, holding back the tears that threatened to well with each turn of the page. It started to become eerie, when each picture began to remind him a little of that week… Finding a picture of Buffy climbing a mountain with not a single rope to hold her, he remembered when he’d told her to ‘climb a mountain and forget your gear…’ There was a picture of Buffy and Dawn in the midst of a pillow fight in a hotel room, with feathers flying everywhere. The two were jumping on the bed and looked to be going all out. ‘When you and your sister get into a tussle, I’m going to be placin’ bets…’ The next picture was obviously caught much by the Slayer’s embarrassment. She was on the beach, in the bright sunlight, with the water covering her lower body…the water being the ONLY thing covering her lower body. Her arms were crossed defensively over her breasts. Her hair was shining in the sunlight, even as her face was flushed and red from embarrassment and anger. She was shouting at the person taking the picture, while she tried to flee the scene. ‘And one of these days, I’m goin’ to see you on a beach, and be walkin’ right beside you on it, right in the sunlight. I’ll be the one whispering dirty thoughts of skinny dipping into your ear.’ Swallowing back his rising hope at the familiarity of it all, he flipped aimlessly through the last couple of pages, which didn’t have any pictures yet. When he came to the very back of the book, his fingers froze, and he was sure his heart had begun beating again. There, at the back, etched in silver: ‘For Spike’ Then, in much smaller silver writing near the very bottom were the words ‘…For Whom We Dance.’ “Bloody hell!” He threw the album from his lap and slammed his foot hard against the coffee table, sending it sailing right into the television. He didn’t even notice the destruction as he stood panting for unneeded breath, his fingers moving through his hair and destroying the hold of the gel. It was real. Everything he and Buffy had done during their seven days together came flooding back; every kiss, every caress, every tender moment of joy and laughter… Spike had gotten a second chance with the Slayer. He’d made love to her; he’d taken her to the mall in a whimsical trip of mayhem. He’d said everything he’d wanted to say to her, and heard everything he’d ever dreamed of hearing. They’d had a rooftop picnic, went skinny-dipping, they’d made love even more, and he’d died for a second time, practically in her arms… And then he’d come back to life, decided to be a coward, and left her dancing in another man’s arms. “What have I done?”

Chapter #5 - Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belonging to the show are not my creation. I take no credit for the brilliance. Author’s Notes: Much thanks to slaymesoftly, my wonderful beta. ********************************************************************** 2 weeks later... Buffy slammed the door shut behind her. She sighed heavily, weary from her last date. For some reason, the urge to dance around town or be taken anywhere had fled. The mail was piled up in the coffee table. She dropped her keys and picked up a few envelopes, noticing that one letter was from Giles. She smiled; surprised to find herself looking forward to any updates he might be able to give. She’d been restless and wanting to take action, though she still had no idea where the desire had come from. Frowning, she noticed a package beside the coffee table. A thick, brown envelope had her name on the front, but no sign of who it was from. Picking it up, she felt two objects inside. The Slayer began to wonder if her former Watcher was sending her reading material along with a mission, except they felt more the size of small novels than the massive, dusty volumes Giles had been known to study. She brought the mail to her bedroom, leaving the door open and tossing the envelopes onto her nightstand. She looked over the package with another curious frown, then shrugged and began to tear at the top. Dawn emerged from her room and passed by her sister’s open door. “I’m heading out to meet Andrew,” she popped her head in to tell her sister with a glare. “Since you won’t let him near the apartment anymore.” “Don’t think I’m joking about this, Dawn. I know one of you has it, and we need to find it. If Andrew did something with it, I swear-“ The teenager rolled her eyes. “Neither of us took your stupid album. What’s the big deal, anyway? You totally overreacted.” Gritting her teeth, Buffy ripped the package almost in half. “Dawn, it didn’t just get up and walk-“ Her eyes followed one of the contents of the package. A black leather photo album fell to the floor. It fell open, revealing pictures of herself and her sister inside. Dawn barely managed to keep her snicker to herself. “Can’t get up and walk away on its own, but apparently it can come back on its own.” “NOT funny.” The Slayer gave her little sister a harsh look. “Whatever.” After the teen had disappeared down the hall, Buffy crouched down on the floor and touched the album tenderly. It felt like being reunited with a part of herself. Suddenly curious and beyond angry that someone had taken it out of her home, she upended the package to discovery what else was inside. An old VHS tape clattered to the floor. *********************************************************************** It had taken an entire day to hunt down a VCR. Buffy was almost considering going to a museum to see if they had any. The tape had been unmarked. It was just as much a mystery as who had sent the package, and Buffy was certain that she no longer liked mysteries. When she finally got the VCR working, and the tape playing, she frowned to see mostly static. Finally, the picture cleared, showing what appeared to be a hand fiddling with the camera. When the hand was removed from in front of the lens, she could see what looked like a simple, plain and mostly bare basement apartment. It was nothing special. Until the figure that had been fiddling with the camera took a seat on the ratty looking couch, and took her breath away. Everything else no longer mattered. Spike’s face was on the screen. His blue eyes were looking back at her. He was wearing his trademark duster and fidgeting nervously, and he was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Then he spoke, and Buffy could have sworn she was being allowed to touch heaven again. “Hello, luv.” She watched as his fidgeting continued. He looked very unsure about what to say next. The Slayer couldn’t help but crawl slowly closer to the television screen. “I feel bloody stupid, talkin’ to this machine…but it’s the best I could come up with, under short notice.” He sighed, looking saddened. “I did something stupid again…bollixed things up right proper, I did. And what’s worse, I was a coward.” Buffy watched the screen in stunned silence as Spike laid out his tale as quickly as he could manage; from his death, coming out of the amulet, getting his body back, and his constant fights both with and by the side of his grandsire. Finally, he told her about what he believed would be the final battle. He stopped for a moment, the expression on his face showing how much he was struggling for the right words. “If you’re gettin’ this…then I didn’t make it. Made last minute arrangements with a friend so you’d receive this. Wanted so bad just to rush to your side tonight…” He shook his head. “But if I left now, would make me double the coward, wouldn’t it?” The Slayer felt her heart sink into the ground. The very thought that she’d lost him all over again, and not even known it… He looked up again, directly towards the camera. “Had a dream about you,” he said suddenly. “Well, ok…had lots of dreams about you, and almost every night…” He sighed. “But this one was different. I dreamt that for one week, we had a world to ourselves. We said everything that needed sayin’, fixed things…everything was well beyond perfect. At least, I thought it was a dream…until I saw the pictures you left for me. Know I shouldn’t have taken ‘em, but…” Glancing down at the album on the floor, Buffy gently traced her fingertips over the leather before looking back at the screen again. Even as her heart threatened to shatter, it also wanted to soar with the knowledge that he had seen it, that he truly knew how much she thought of him, and how much she still considered him part of her life. “’Ts why I made the mistake of stayin’ away, you know…thought it was all a dream at first. And I was…I was bloody terrified of findin’ out for sure. If I had to find out that I was the only one with those memories…” He looked away from the camera, down at his hands, which he clenched and unclenched restlessly. Finally, he willed himself to look up at the camera. “I want you to know, that I still would have come. Even if I had to find out that none of it was real, I still wouldn’t have stayed away forever. I just…” He sighed. “I had to…for me…just for a little while. I had to do some good…had to know what kind of man I was without you there. Everything I’ve ever done, I’ve done for a woman…done for someone I loved…I had to know that I could be a good man, without you always there to tell me what good was. I had to know…that I could be someone you could be proud of…*always* be proud of.” After a long moment of silence, he stopped his fidgeting. “I love you, Buffy,” he declared suddenly. “I think of you every day, I look for you around every bloody corner, and I reach for your warmth when I wake up every night. My heart’s been screamin’ for you this whole bloody time, and I’m so sorry I didn’t have the courage to listen to it. Now, chances are, it’s a little too late. Tell the bit I love her, would you? Even if she doesn’t want to hear it from me…” When the tape had stopped, and nothing but static was showing on the TV, Buffy finally let her tears fall. Her body was shaking with loss that she hadn’t been aware of. When the tape ejected, she picked it up and held it to her like a long-lost friend. Rocking slowly back and forth, she sobbed. “No…” She could only speak in small whispers. “Come back…please…please, come back…” She never saw her teenage sister, standing at the doorway and staring numbly over her shoulder at the screen full of static.

Chapter #6 - Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belonging to the show are property and creations of M.E. and not me. Author’s Notes: Much thanks to slaymesoftly, who really REALLY made this chapter readable, because I messed it up so very badly. Also, much much thanks to my wonderful readers, those that review, and those that have given support since the beginning of Seven Days. ********************************************************************** It was a warm, sunny day, and yet everything seemed so bitterly cold. This was where Buffy would normally be wearing a silky-looking sundress, with thin straps, and high-heeled sandals. Instead, she found herself wanting to cover as much of her body as she could. She had even gone as far as to wear a light sweater. The brief glances she got from Dawn were enough to tell her that her sister was worried. Giles had flown in from England, wanting to be there to reveal the ‘terribly dreadful’ news. As if her heart hadn’t already been torn. ********************************************************************** The meeting was solemn and boring. Buffy barely paid any attention as Giles explained the trouble Angel had apparently gotten himself into with Wolfram and Hart. The blow was even stronger, once she knew for certain that her first love had fallen also. Wesley she barely remembered, and couldn’t put enough effort into really feeling his death. She was surrounded. Dawn was sitting to her left, and Andrew across the table. Two of the potentials were on her right, and Giles sat at the head of the table. She could tell he wanted to move closer, but wasn’t quite sure how to comfort her through the bad news. ‘No survivors…the demonic army claimed the lives of Angel, his crew, and –‘ “Spike,” she interrupted suddenly. Giles glanced up from his papers, squinting at her. “I’m sorry?” “Spike,” she repeated. “He was killed, too.” Her watcher looked utterly lost. “Yes…but that was a long time ago, Buffy.” She shook her head. “He sent me a message…he was brought back, and he was in that fight with Angel…” “He contacted you?” Andrew’s voice held a trace of excitement. Buffy’s gaze became cold as it settled on Andrew. When she stared without saying a word for a long moment, he began to shrink back into his seat. “You knew?” Buffy suddenly demanded. “You knew he was alive, all this time, and you didn’t…?” He shrank even further into his chair, barely daring to meet her gaze. Buffy could only shake her head, not even able to conjure up rage where she knew there should be. “Get out,” she said. “Get out of this office…get your things out of my apartment…” “Buffy!” Dawn sat up straighter and began to protest. “No.” The Slayer’s voice still had no fire in it. “If he had told me…” She shook her head. “He’s just cost me everything, and betrayed my trust. I don’t want him in my apartment, anywhere near me…” She stood up, her chair toppling over in her haste as she backed away from the table. “Buffy,” Giles began. “Perhaps you should calm down…” “I’ve been calm long enough.” She picked up her purse, settling the strap on her shoulder without giving another glance at the others in the room. Then, despite their protests, she left. It never felt as if first shift was something his body was used to. Of course, William didn’t have an official shift, but would take whatever he could get. Every morning at the crack of dawn, he would rise and unload crates from the back of trucks and deliver them into bistros all around Rome. He’d work until almost sunset, daily. Considering he didn’t seem to speak a word of Italian, Will thought himself lucky that he’d landed among those who could speak a bit of English. And ‘landed’ was precisely the right word. Two weeks earlier he had apparently dropped into existence out of nowhere. He’d been naked and sprawled out on the street, and those he now worked for had stumbled on him, thinking him a possible corpse or victim of robbery. Luckily, he hadn’t been dead, but he also couldn’t tell if he’d been robbed. In fact, William hadn’t remembered a thing about himself or his life before, aside from vaguely remembering his first name. The face he saw in the mirror was a stranger’s. The sharp cheekbones and blue eyes seemed almost foreign. At first, his skin had been almost blindingly pale, but was nothing compared to the bleached-white hair. He lived with his employers, who were all brothers. Only two of them spoke broken English, so it was always amusing to try to hold a conversation. They were constantly making snide jokes behind his back, and it didn’t take that long to figure out and retaliate with creative hand gestures. He was making a meager amount of money, but was still on his way to at least being able to get on his feet. Some days, he completely forgot that he should be worrying about the big gaping hole in his mind that was his life. That was, until a reminder slammed into him. A little blonde plowed right into him, knocking the breath out of his body. He gasped as he looked down at her. She was fumbling with her purse, looking shaky and wrapped up in too much clothing for the warm weather. Her hair was scattered around a tear-streaked face, and she wouldn’t look up. “Oh, god, sorry…” She dropped her cell phone, which had been ringing throughout their encounter. “’s alright…” He leaned down to pick up the phone. When he stood back up, her wide green eyes were finally meeting his; in fact, they seemed to be seeking his out with a strange desperation. ********************************************************************** Buffy hadn’t been looking at anything. Nothing else had mattered except escaping her treacherous friends and their uncaring attitude towards the one she’d loved and lost – twice. Or, was it three times? So preoccupied with her thoughts, she nearly jumped a foot in the air when her cellphone rang. Sighing, she took it out of her pocket, wondering if her sister was trying to contact her already. Instead, it was The Immortal’s number that showed up on the screen. The Slayer had no doubt that he would want to know why she hadn’t been out with him lately. In fact, after receiving the video tape in the mail, she could barely stand to hear his voice. Again, she found herself distracted as she debated whether or not she should even answer the phone. The solid chest she ran right into answered her question. Embarrassment immediately followed. She was disheveled, her face blotchy, she wasn’t wearing an ounce of makeup, and she had just realized that there were unwanted tears on her face. Of course, none of those were quite as bad as just carelessly running into pedestrians. “Oh, god, sorry!” “’s alright.” She felt numb. The voice had sent a shock through her entire body, followed by a longing shiver. The accent was so close… When she looked up, the world seemed to stand still. Her dream was standing in front of her. She knew he was flesh and blood, because she’d run into it. He bent down to retrieve her forgotten phone, and held it out towards her. He was standing just in the shade, but it still would have been far too bright for a vampire. And the slight darkening of his skin suggested that the sun was no longer something forbidden to him. His white hair hadn’t changed much, except that it wasn’t slicked back as it normally was, and the darker roots were beginning to show. The high, sharp cheekbones were impossible to mistake, and his lips were just as full and looked just as soft as Buffy remembered. The blue eyes looked pale in such bright light. He was squinting at her almost suspiciously, before he waved a hand in front of her face. It was then she realized that she had been staring open-mouthed. “You alright?” She was still staring at him, and it was beginning to make him nervous. Just when he was about to hand her the phone and walk away, she seemed to snap out of her daze. “Wha…? Uh…yeah.” Swallowing hard, she reached forward, taking her phone. The moment her fingers came in contact with his, he couldn’t breath. Will gasped, but otherwise couldn’t move. The world consisted only of the blonde in front of him, as memories bombarded him out of nowhere. …“I remember at least part of the battle…the army, many good tussles…and then the necklace…it started hurtin.” He frowned. “Burning.” Buffy nodded. “The necklace worked,” she explained. “It’s actually what turned the tide so much.” She spoke the next words softly. “You’re what turned the tide.”… ~~~ …He kissed the top of her head, then brushed her hair off of her neck and let his fingertips stroke the bare flesh gently. “I think I’ve somehow found myself in heaven.” Buffy smiled softly. “Heaven is a basement in my house, huh?” Spike kissed her forehead, and then brushed his lips gently over her closed eyelids before laying his head back and allowing himself to rest. “Heaven is wherever you are.”… ~~~ …Spike kept his eyes closed, but leaned in to her touch. Buffy could still hear the sorrow in his voice. “I can never make it right.” She pressed her body to his, then placed her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him gently closer, so that their faces were only inches apart. “I forgive you, Spike.”… ~~~ …Gasping, Buffy threw her head back and moaned loudly as he started to suckle on her clit. His fingers had thrust hard into her tight, wet pussy and were tormenting her to no end. The fingers were taking on a quick rhythm, plunging into her repeatedly while he tongued her nub in quick circles, just the way he knew she loved. Buffy’s body was shaking with the pleasure of it, and in less then no time she was crying out his name, her inner muscles squeezing his fingers while her entire body shuddered in her orgasm… ~~~ …The Slayer ran at him full speed, ignoring the projectiles that bounced off of her head. Soon Spike was out of ammo and tossed the plastic gun aside. Buffy leapt at him, tackling him at full force and sending them both crashing into the shelves, sending the shelf toppling over, and bean bags and stuffed animals crashing down on top of them, burying them under the fluffy and colorful mess.. ~~~ …He smiled, beginning to notice some of her tension. “It doesn’t suit us.” Buffy gave a slight pout. “But it’s a nice song…” “Exactly,” Spike interrupted. “It’s a nice song. It’s pretty, and clean, and easy to swallow. It doesn’t suit us at all.”… ~~~ …Buffy smiled and pulled him gently closer by the lapels of his jacket, so their bodies were touching. She turned her head and brushed a tender kiss across the palm of his hand before looking him straight in the eye again. “I love you… ~~~ …“You lied.” Her eyes widened. “I did not! I didn’t forget it…” “Yes, you did,” he interrupted with a slightly raised voice. “You forgot it every chance you got. You especially forgot when we were together. Every time you didn’t want to believe that I could love you, you took a real good look at the monster that I had been, and never gave a single thought to the man who would have let himself be killed that night, just to make sure you wouldn’t have to face the pain of loosing your sister!”… ~~~ …Spike moved close to her. He was still wearing his clothes, even his leather duster. His clothes and his skin were warm from the morning stroll, but luckily nothing was crispy. Buffy snuggled close to him, grabbing hold of the lapels of his duster and burying her face against his chest. “You came back…I didn’t know if you would…” ~~~ …His grin was downright evil when he removed his hand. She glared at him but he only winked back as he slowly slid her panties down her legs. Instead of tossing them into the pile, however, he slipped them into the back pocket of his jeans. Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Told you.” He looked down at her questioningly. “What?” “Panty fetish.”… ~~~ …A sound from above alerted him to another presence. Spike looked up just in time to see the Slayer perched on the edge of the roof of the house he was standing beside. His eyes widened and he moved to dodge, but was too late. She tackled him from above, sending them both sprawling onto the grass. They rolled, struggling for dominance in their little dance. Finally, the Vampire ended up on top and jumped up again, holding his bundle protectively to his chest… ~~~ …“’Dear Diary’” he read off, always keeping just out of her reach. “’Why are the cute ones always dead?’” She dove right over the table and tried to snatch the book from his hand. The vampire held it up right out of her reach and grabbed onto her shoulder so she wouldn’t fall face first onto the floor. Once she tried to rise on her own feet again, he grabbed her towel and yanked it from her. He then took off running towards the kitchen. Buffy squealed in protest, but didn’t bother trying to find something else to cover herself. She took off after Spike, murder in her eyes… ~~~ …He grinned. “I thought, ‘This one’s different.’” He flipped them over suddenly, so that he was on top. He pinned her naked body beneath him, looking down at her with passion and tenderness all at the same time. There was even wonder creeping up into his gaze as he studied her. “She’s different from the rest. She’s got a fire that the other slayers couldn’t even touch. I remember…one of my very first thoughts about you…’Beware, mate…if you’re not careful, she’ll burn you all up.’”… ~~~ …“Stay…” She whispered softly to him. “Hmm?” Spike gently traced his fingers through her soft hair. “Stay…stay here…stay with me.” Her tears fell against his shoulder. “Please…you have to stay with me.”… ~~~ …Spike grinned, some of his wicked humor returning. He curled his tongue behind his teeth, raising an eyebrow. “You know you can’t get rid of me, Slayer…” Some of the vulnerability returned to his gaze. “Remember me?” The Slayer’s vision blurred with unshed tears. She breathed hard for a moment to compose herself. “How could I not?” He smiled softly at her, reaching up and gently tracing his fingers through her hair. He moved the tips of his fingers over her cheek again, then across her lips. “I love you, Buffy…now let me go.”… ~~~ She was still staring at him. The blonde still stood watching him as he was bulldozed by memories. It felt as if he had been immersed in his own mind for days, but when he looked around, he realized it must have been only moments. “Are you ok?” she asked him suddenly. William nodded. “Yeah…” Looking down at her, he felt passion flare to life. His body ached for her, and his heart screamed her name. He noticed her bottom lip trembling as she kept her eyes on his, and wanted to capture it in his mouth, stroke it with his tongue as he swept her off her feet and carried her away to… ‘Easy there, Will,’ he warned himself. ‘Right good way to run the woman off. Just say: Pardon me Madam, but I seem to have nonsensical memories of you and would very much like to experience the taste of your quim again…’ He shook the thought away, and swallowed hard. “Would you…” She jumped at the sound of his voice, and he stifled a grin. “My shift’s over…” He nodded towards a small group of men gathered around a truck down the road. “Would you…care to get something to eat? I know it must be odd-“ “Yeah,” she said suddenly. “Yeah…I really would.” Buffy’s smile was brighter than the sun. Her cell phone dropped from her hands again, but neither of them seemed to notice. Reaching out, she took his hand in hers. Both of them felt a thrill from the slightest touch of the other. Their fingers laced together, before their eyes met again. William took a step forward, but then stopped suddenly. He looked down at the sidewalk, and realized he was just an inch away from leaving the shade. Looking down at the small hand in his, it seemed like a momentous occasion. The Slayer also noticed his hesitance towards the sunlight. “Its ok,” she told him. “We can-“ Before she could finish, he took another step forward. His white hair glinted and his smile widened, before he turned back to look over his shoulder at her. Buffy looked down at their hands, clasped tightly together in the sunlight. She smiled again as she looked up at him. She then stepped out of the shade, following him.

Chapter #7 - Epilogue

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belonging to the show are not my creations. Author’s Notes: Many, MANY thanks to slaymesoftly, who was my beta for this story. She’s been very patient, and definitely made this chapter readable. ********************************************************************** “You’re so warm…” Buffy buried her nose against Spike’s neck and inhaled deeply. She pressed her hand against his chest and felt the beat under her palm. It was the only thing that kept her from panicking. “Last time you were warm…you burned up while I was trying to hold on to you…” The two stood outside her apartment building. The sky was turning red as the sun set, and Spike and Buffy were watching its progress together for the first time, wrapped in one another’s arms. Spike’s warm fingers traced gentle patterns across her back, before trailing through her golden hair. “I remember…’s comin’ back slowly, but yeah, remember that…it hurt for a while, then it didn’t. But whether or not it did, didn’t matter. ‘Cause the last thing I saw was you, and I was happier than I’d ever been.” Buffy closed her eyes against an assault of fresh tears. She had kept him outside, afraid to go into her apartment. She was afraid that if she walked back into her regularly scheduled life, he’d disappear from it again. Inhaling deeply, she rested her head on his shoulder. Her arms circled his waist as she allowed herself to get lost in his embrace. “What if you leave me again?” “Won’t. And if I do, won’t last. Figure if death was goin’ to stick, would have done it by now.” The Slayer smiled, opening her eyes again to watch Spike’s face in the last fading light of the setting sun. ********************************************************* Buffy fumbled with the lock. Her hands were eager, and it was difficult to control them. She finally opened the door to her apartment. Everything was dark, only the streetlights outside providing illumination, and they tended to cast even deeper shadows. The Slayer turned and took the man behind her by the hands, guiding him inside her home without having to speak an invitation. Spike kicked the door shut behind them. Moving one hand from his, Buffy gently traced her fingertips across his face. She took only a moment to memorize his features all over again, before pulling his body against her and crushing her lips to his. He responded eagerly, moaning as her tongue brushed over his soft bottom lip. Spike’s lips parted, and they returned to a familiar dance. Only, it was different this time. Spike’s tongue held an unfamiliar heat, but the same skill. His hands wandered down her back. Buffy began to tug at his T-shirt, as if she might rip it in half if it weren’t gone soon. Laughing softly, he pulled away just long enough to pull the shirt up and over his head. As soon as Buffy could see his bare chest, she lunged forward. His skin was at the mercy of her lips and his nipples were tortured by small strokes of her tongue. Spike’s breathing grew heavier, and the Slayer could feel his heart beating faster under her touch. ‘Spike has a heartbeat…’ The thought was a shock every time it crossed her mind, enough for her to stop her attack and look up at him again. His skin was flushed and there was a small grin on his face. He seemed unsure and curious about what she would do next. Stepping back, she took him by the hands again. She walked backwards, easily maneuvering through her apartment by memory, leading him towards her bedroom. To her surprise, he stopped as something caught his eye. Buffy turned to see the small shelf beside them, She smiled when she realized that what had caught Spike’s eye was the black leather album that had just recently been returned. He pulled one hand away from her to trace his fingertips across the leather. He studied the smiling faces in the first picture, not yet completely able to remember the source of the warm glow and complete contentment that settled over his entire being. “It was for you,” Buffy whispered to him softly, before leading him away from the albums. “It was all…” She pulled him down for another kiss, desperate to taste him. He groaned as they backed into the hallway. Spike lifted her off her feet, and Buffy wrapped her legs around his hips. Her back finally met a hard surface, and she broke away from the kiss long enough to look behind her. “Oh, good. My door.” She spoke breathlessly as she fumbled with the doorknob. Spike had already begun trailing teasing kisses down her neck. His hands squeezed her backside playfully while he leaned down to nibble softly on her nipple through her clothing. “Gah!” Buffy gasped and arched against his mouth just as she managed to open the door. The man holding her stumbled inside, just barely managing to make it to the bed before toppling forward. They landed with a bounce, and the Slayer laughed, immediately tugging her sweater off. “Too many clothes!” she announced. “What was I thinking? Way too much clothing!” “Let me help you with that, luv…” He lifted the thinner shirt underneath, gently kissing his way up her belly and across the top of her breasts. When she lifted her arms he pulled the shirt off, then impatiently ripped her bra away, consuming her in a deep kiss before she could voice a protest. She groaned into the kiss and squeezed him with her legs. She pushed him away by his shoulders and looked down between them. “You too. Too much pants. Not enough Spike. Give me more Spike.” “More Spike you shall have.” He grinned wickedly before forcing her legs open, so that he was no longer trapped in their grasp. He made his way slowly down her body. “But first, I want more Buffy…” “No teasing!” He laughed, curling his tongue behind his teeth as he unbuttoned her pants, sliding the denim over the curve of her backside and down her shapely legs. “Just want a taste…would you deny me a taste, Buffy, luv?” Buffy slipped off her shoes and watched as Spike slid her pants off and tossed them onto the floor. “Tasting later,” she panted. “I need you…” The way her voice suddenly wavered had little to do with the heat building between them. “Shhhhh…” Spike lowered her panties and tossed them aside, before kissing her thighs; He stroked his tongue up her slit and toyed with her clit. The blonde arched her hips off the bed, seeking further contact, but he’d already moved on. He kissed his way up her body, reaching down to undo his pants as he settled his weight over her. “‘M right here.” He kissed her temple to sooth her. “You are…” Buffy wrapped her legs around his thighs, and used her feet to slide his loose jeans down his legs. She could hear his boots hit the floor as he toed them off. “You’re here…here, with me…” She brushed her lips softly against his and took time to savor every one of his harsh breaths. “You’re with me…” Spike brushed her hair away from her face, studying her features as even more memories fell into place. “I am,” he assured her. “An’ ‘m not goin’ anywhere. When he slowly pushed into her body, she could not hold back her gasp. Her eyes opened wide, and she clung to his shoulders. “Oh, god…” His head dipped down to her neck, and she could feel him tracing patterns over her jugular with his now-warm tongue. He nibbled on her soft skin as he slowly withdrew, then thrust hard, burying himself in her tight channel. Buffy cried out and heard the headboard slam against the wall. She spared a brief second to be grateful that her sister had not come home yet, before all hope of thought was lost. Her muscles squeezed and contracted around his cock, welcoming him into her body. He groaned as he felt her heat surrounding him. “Remember this…” Spike rested his forehead against hers. “Remember you…” He pulled back and thrust into her again, enjoying each harsh gasp she made. “Remember the way you taste, your scent, the way you feel…all liquid heat wrapped around me…” Spike pulled back and thrust his cock into her harder, watching as she squirmed with need for him. “Strong and soft all at once…” “Spike, please!” Buffy pushed her hips up to meet his, desperate for more. “How could I have forgotten you?” He nipped at her neck and growled savagely into her ear. “How could I ever have…?” His control and will to tease slipping, Spike began to pound into her body fiercely. Her startled sounds of pleasure and the nails digging into his flesh encouraged him. The frame of Buffy’s bed squealed in protest from Spike’s harsh treatment. Buffy moaned and threw her head back to welcome Spike’s mouth, as he bit first her neck, then her earlobe and gave a sharp tug. His hand was cupping her breast, his thumb and forefinger teasing the sensitive nipple. Spike’s skin was actually hot against hers, creating a sauna affect. His heartbeat was matching her own in its urgency, and he was breathing rapidly as he watched her in her need. As his body moved rhythmically with hers, Spike stared down at his lover. He growled again, and his eyes flashed with amber Buffy gasped, then tightened her legs around Spike’s hips. She brought their movements to a halt. “Somethin’ wrong, luv?” Spike was looking down at her with mild confusion, but the bright amber had not left his eyes. The Slayer almost sobbed aloud when she realized there was no part of her lover that she would have to mourn. “No…” she whispered tenderly as she brushed her fingertips against his brow. She tightened her legs around him even more and pulled him inside, suddenly flipping them both so that she was astride him. His cock was forced deeper into her body and they both groaned in response. “Just admiring the view…” When she glanced down at him again, she noticed that his hands were gripping the bars of her headboard, and the iron was groaning as it bent under the pressure. The noise was soon followed by a matching groan from Spike as Buffy rose slowly, then sank back down, taking him into her tight body again and again. She began to ride him hard, supporting herself on his shoulders. He moved his hands from the bars to her hips, gripping her tightly enough to leave bruises on her soft skin. The bed shook under their frenzied thrusts, and Buffy ground herself down against him to stimulate her throbbing and needy clit. Sensing her need, Spike used his thumb to press down hard on her nub and rub it in slow circles, sending her spiraling into her first orgasm of the night. ************************************************************************ Sunshine shifted in through the curtains, dancing in small patterns across soft skin. The sounds of waking life outside didn’t disturb the two lovers. Spike dozed on his stomach, while behind him, Buffy traced small patterns across his back. “You awake?” she asked. “Nope.” The Slayer grinned mischievously, biting at the strong muscle of his shoulder. “Lying.” “‘M not. Havin’ a wonderful dream. Stop interrupting.” Spike barely managed to hide the small grin on his face. She huffed. “Well, fine…I was going to occupy you, but since you’re so busy…” She moved a hand slowly down his side, then across his narrow hip and between his legs, to gently nudge and tease at his growing erection. He flipped so suddenly, Buffy gasped, completely taken by surprise. Spike held her wrists against the mattress, pinning her with his body. “Sod the dream.” Buffy giggled, squirming underneath him. A sheet separated their bodies, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough to hold him back for long. She certainly didn’t want it to be…but she found herself sobering from her playful mood as she looked up into familiar blue eyes, sparkling with mirth and lust. “How’s the memory coming?” The wicked leer was replaced with a tender smile. “It’s comin’…slowly, but more of its there almost every minute. Some of it…” He closed his eyes, breathing in hard before releasing a slow breath to calm himself. “Some of it I don’ actually want…” “I know…” Buffy kissed the tip of his nose, then giggled slightly. “Oh god, poor Andrew…” Spike frowned. “Who?” “Oh, uh…Tucker’s brother.” “Oh. Why’s he poor, and why’s he bein’ mentioned in this bed?” The Slayer smiled and rolled her eyes. “He um…he kept something from me. He knew that you were…well, when you were with Angel, he knew…and he didn’t tell me.” She sighed softly. “And I got beyond pissed…now as far as everyone else is concerned, I’m a major bitch-queen-” He shrugged. “Sod them all.” Buffy grinned. “I should probably let him off the hook…its just…” She bit her bottom lip, freeing one of her wrists from Spike’s grip and raising her hand to brush her fingertips across his cheek. “I missed you…you’ll never know how much…” Spike covered her mouth with his own, lips worshiping hers with soft touches before his tongue stroked their softness for entrance. She gladly obliged, moaning into the embrace while pushing the sheet that covered her away. He pulled back for a moment, breathing hard and smiling. “Let me show you how much I know I missed you.” Buffy nodded in eager agreement, before pulling him down for another kiss. *********************************************************************** Dawn closed the door as quietly as she was able. She winced at even the slightest squeak of wood, before realizing that in the horrible mood her sister was in, she was likely not to notice that Dawn had been gone all night. Sighing, the younger Summers placed her purse down on the table in the living room. She’d been over at Andrew’s, trying hard to console him after Buffy’s outburst and his quick relocation. “Ok, so Andrew screwed up…didn’t mean she had to go all –” The shrill blaring of the phone interrupted Dawn’s muttering. She made a slight squeaking noise in fear before quickly scrambling to pick up the noisy device. “Hello?” ************************************************************************ Spike’s hand cupped one of her breasts, kneading it softly before arousing the nipple into a hard peak. He then moved his fingertips gently down her side, tickling the soft flesh before gliding across her belly and between her legs. Buffy gasped and arched into his touch as his thumb teased her clit. She pulled away from his kisses long enough to take a much-needed gulp of air. A sharp knock suddenly pulled them from their private world. “Buffy?” Dawn knocked again, louder this time. “The Immortal’s on the phone. He’s demanding to know who your new beau is.” She turned the knob without waiting for an answer, stepping into the room. “Which is so stupid, cause there’s no way you have a new –“ Thesight of a pale and muscular male ass easily brought a startled scream from the teen. Spike yelped and rolled off his lover, quickly bringing a blanket up to his waist. Beside him, Buffy screamed right back at her sister, pulling the blanket up to her chest. with equal insistence The screaming stopped for a moment, and the brunette in the doorway could do little more than stare with mouth gaping at the man in bed with her sister. The bleached blond stared back, before his eyes widened, more memories snapping into place. “…Nibblit?” Eyes widening further, Dawn started screaming again. She dropped the phone onto the floor and began bouncing in one spot, before leaping onto the startled former vampire, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle, and sending them both toppling off the bed and onto the floor. “Bloody hell, Bit!” “Dawn, he’s naked!” Buffy tried in vain to stop her laughter as she watched her small family and their reunion. She then laughed even harder when she realized the blanket had stayed on the bed with her.