Snapshots of Eternity

Chapter Thirteen: So It Begins

Rome

To Faith, the spell had seemed to last forever, as she watched from her place within the protective circle. She knew better than to try to leave or do anything to break Willow's concentration as the Wicca continued to weave her magicks in and around Dawn. The power bit along Faith's skin, prickling to the point of pain. Vaguely, she felt the wolf's presence, as Oz stood sentry over them all. She knew, without a doubt, that Oz could take on anything that came through the door.

How long had they been there? Hours? Days? Weeks? Time seemed to lack meaning beneath the veil of silence.

As though someone, somewhere, had heard Faith's thoughts, the other two women seated within the circle let loose a unified gasp and slumped forward. The force field collapsed, and Oz started slightly. The creature perched on the wolf's shoulder spread its leathery wings and came to its mistress, alighting her shoulder and nuzzling its little face into her soft skin.

A moan sounded from Dawn which drew Faith's attention to the child of vampire and Slayer. Her angular face lifted, and Faith caught a glimpse of eyes drastically changed from their once cerulean color. Tiny green veins now adorned her temples and jaw line, the emerald color a perfect match to the new eyes. Anger and fear flashed through the rogue slayer's heart. Faith knew that she, like Buffy and Willow, had been gifted with immortality, but that only meant that Buffy and Spike could spend eternity torturing her for allowing harm to come to their precious offspring.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Faith shot to her feet to glare at the rousing Goddess. "She's..." Unable to find the right words, Faith waved a hand to indicate her own face.

"Relax, Rogue," the answer came from the young woman still calmly seated on the floor. Her voice was deeper, now, huskier. "Will just helped bring us closer together. Took the voices away."

"Us? Voices?" Faith took a step back and folded her arms across her ample chest.

"It's true," Willow said as she got to her own feet. "The key part was taking her over because Dawn kept fighting it. So, every time Dawn managed to suppress her Key-ness, the Key would use the bond we all share to taunt Dawn with our voices in her head. She's been hearing our thoughts in her mind. All our thoughts." Willow gave Faith a knowing look.

"You think it's bad enough when you walk in on your parents being all naked, and ... Just try having a ringside seat and unable to leave," Dawn blushed furiously and shuddered at the residual images that were forever burned in her mind. Seeing the look on Faith's face, she grinned unrepentantly. "How's David, by the way?"

Now, it was Faith's turn to blush. "Get bent, munchkin."

"Who are you calling munchkin? I'm taller than you."


Willow rolled her eyes at the squabbling brunettes before settling her gaze on the stoic facade of her first love. He'd been her rock for months, a soothing balm for frazzled nerves as she learned to cope with yet another wacky turn in her wacky existence. Despite his outward appearance, Willow could see an almost teasing glint in the depths of cerulean eyes.

Oz had stood vigil throughout the entirety of the ritual she had just performed; his unflappable presence and his ever watchful eyes taking it all in his own stride without passing judgment in the things he witnessed. It was his way; one of the things she loved about him. Though now Willow knew without asking that he would be returning to the temple and the young charges he felt responsible for guiding through the rigors of coping with their inner demons. Some were weres like himself, while some were other supernatural beings. And some were human-demon hybrids. All of the charges looked up to Oz; practically worshipful in their adoration for the man who refused to give up on them and toss them aside for the crime of being different.

Without words needing to be exchanged, Willow slipped her hands into his, feeling a hint of the old tinglies she'd relished as an innocent girl of sixteen. A world of change had occurred between them in the span of a few years. She still felt the tinglies, though. The exuberance of love in youth now eased into the fondness of dear friends that know the value of genuine love for oneself and one another.

Goddess and Master Werewolf exchanged a few words in soft tones before gentle kisses were exchanged upon sun-kissed cheeks. A portal was opened, and Oz departed leaving a serene smile on Willow's face, while the good-natured teasing continued behind her and Kristlan nuzzled his leathery head beneath his mistress' chin. "We go home soon?" the tiny creature asked in his broken English. Willow reached up to stroke one clawed foot.

"Soon, Lani," she whispered. "Soon."
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He awoke alone, the tiny blonde who'd previously been snuggled into his arms no longer curled against his chest. For a brief moment, Spike thought she'd rabbited off to find herself another meal after the debacle that had occurred with the delivery boy. He'd only stepped into the opulent bathroom to run her a bubble bath when a tentative knock sounded at the door. A high pitched squeak pierced the air, and Spike darted back in time to find his mate with her dainty little fangs firmly embedded in the delivery boy's throat, a steaming pie squashed beneath the young man's wildly kicking feet.

From now on, Spike silently avowed, she would feed before she leaves the house.

After a moment, Spike noticed that the door to the balcony was slightly ajar and the mystery of his absent mate was solved. He felt her out there, knew she was nearby, and could sense her tumultuous feelings. He'd known something was coming, something bigger than even the First and the destruction of the Hellmouth. Right now was just the calm before the storm. He felt it. She felt it. Hell, everything and their fangy aunt from here to the next dimension could likely feel it. As much as he'd love nothing more than to whisk his girls away to some forgotten desert isle, he knew better. War was coming, and the Slayers would be right in the thick of it. Maybe now would be the best time to get in touch with the ol' grand sire. See what Peaches and his lot were about these days.

Just for this moment, though, Spike did the only thing he could do. He got out of bed and into his clothes before taking the path his girl had taken out onto the balcony.

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Buffy felt that for the first time since Willow had done her little magick trick with the Scythe the voices and the pain had quieted within her mind. She could still feel the connections she had to all the others, could still hear the Slayers, like a low level hum deep inside. But it was quieter now. Or, perhaps, her new demon, the effects of the Claim, and her link to Spike were stronger. Yeah, cuz that makes a whole lotta sense.

New sensations coursed through her. She felt the chill where her hands curled around the metal railing of the balcony, the cool night air wafting gently across her face. Different. Her eyes drifted closed, and Buffy tilted her face towards the streets below. Her new senses focused on something familiar that she couldn't quite put her finger on. A presence she couldn't quite describe outside of the niggling feeling that it belonged...

There.

Buffy opened her eyes and her lips parted on a gasp as a pair crystalline, blue eyes watched her from the shadows down below. Never mind that she could see those eyes as clearly as if they were looking at her from scant inches away in broad daylight. The owner of those eyes smirked back at her, and even saluted her, brazenly. The display was so much like Spike that she gasped and blinked a couple times to make sure that she wasn't hallucinating.

Nope. He was still there. Not a hallucination or a trick of the moonlight. There really was a gorgeous brunette looking up at her from the street five floors below. The light treading of feet moved up behind her, and Buffy couldn't help the slight mewl to escape her mouth as soft lips found the edge of her throat. She reached up behind her to thread her fingers into the soft, springy curls free of hair gel and pressed back against the firm muscles of her lover's lithe form. "Didn't mean to wake you," she whispered.

"You didn't wake me. The empty bed woke me," he whispered against her lips and kissed her softly before resting his chin against her shoulder and looking out over the twinkling city lights. Not far off in the distance, he could see a building, which eerily looked like the tower of evil Angel and his crew were running across the puddle. The similarities were such that Spike felt himself shudder. "We should get back, kitten. Don't like leaving the Nibblet alone for too long."

"Yeah," Buffy answered distractedly, her eyes still searching the darkness below for any sign of the stranger. He was gone, however.

***********************

Faith had no idea what possessed her, really. She'd just needed to get some air, some time away from the squirt and Red. She'd said she was taking a walk, which she did. Her feet had brought her to the front door of Night Haven, somehow having found the time for a shower and a change of clothes on the way. The need to see David had become a living, breathing entity with its own power, driving her through the doors and up the stairs, past Dante and straight into David's private office. Before she knew it, her hand had flicked the locking mechanism to ensure their privacy, and Faith was across the plush carpeting to swivel David's expensive, high-backed leather chair around and throw herself into his lap.

All that mattered to Faith was the feel of an unnaturally cold hand smoothing across the warm skin of her back while his other hand slid along the toned muscles of a thigh. Her own hands weren’t idle, as they found purchase on the stark white designer button down shirt covering the broad expanse of his muscular chest. Buttons popped and scattered as she ripped that shirt open and swept her greedy fingers over the olive perfection of his torso. Uh, hello, Fabio, she thought greedily as her eyes drank in all that beauty.

David stared intently into the haunted eyes of the dark haired Slayer. Haunted, David thought could be the only word that accurately described the woman in his arms. It was the look of a heart that had seen too much damage in too few years. A child thrust into the world of adults long before she had ever been given the chance to even know what it meant to just ‘be.’ Something deep down, primal, and instinctive in him wanted to take the broken child within her and lead her to the woman she would become.

Heat scorched his hands where they found the satiny skin of a thigh or the scarred lines across her back beneath the pitiful excuse of a top she wore. Her lips beckoned, and he gave in to this siren's call to touch and taste, to sip at the fount of her youthful exuberance. Her name, a whisper of cool air against her lips, brought a mewl from her throat, and her hands clutched him tighter, a fine tremble in her body which communicated itself to his.

"Say it again," she demanded in a tiny, quivering voice.

David smiled a bit and wrapped her up tighter in his arms. "Faith."

Tears slipped from the edges of her eyes as she really saw the man who held her. So he was a vampire. So was Spike. So was Angel. David wasn't eyeing her as though he intended to suck her dry and dump her body in the closest river. If anything, he looked like he was ready to devour her whole in a completely different and decadent way. And if the prominent bulge nestled against her hip was anything to go by, she'd enjoy every second of the devouring.

A knock sounded at the door, and David lifted his gaze to the barrier, growling something in heated Italian that Faith couldn't translate. A meek reply came back and the interloper was gone. The Master Vampire returned his gaze to his guest and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead in a show of tenderness that made Faith's heart wrench in her chest. "Come home with me, my beauty. Allow me to show you things you've never dreamed."

Faith bit her lip and looked down at his chest for a brief moment before nodding and allowing David to shift her to her feet. The heated look he raked over her body sent blood rushing to her cheeks, and David grinned rakishly at the very becoming blush. Oh, yes. She was precious.

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It wasn't his fault, really. He'd tried so hard to be a good vamp, tried to force his eyes to follow the ground or to take in their surroundings during their walk home instead of allowing his eyes to become glued to that spectacular, delectable lil’ peach of an ass all covered in slick, red leather. As though she'd sensed his attentions, his minx of a mate had turned her head to him with a coquettish giggle and wiggled the body part in question while beckoning him closer.

After a few steps and a triumphant laugh later, he had her pinned to the wall, her sinuous legs now free of any covering and gripped tightly around his thrusting pelvis. She was heat, fire, a blazing inferno of the type of heaven no vampire should ever be allowed to breach. Only he was here, buried within her sopping, dripping core, divine muscles gripping his shaft and milking him for everything while her sweet cries were swallowed in lustful kisses. Her fangs dropped unexpectedly and pierced his tongue. The rich blood, old and powerful, filled both their mouths. Moans became rumbling growls as she fed from him and fucked him within an inch of his unlife, and he knew without a doubt sex had never been this good.

*************************

Unbeknownst to the couple reveling in their frenzied mating, a pair of bright, blue eyes watched from a nearby rooftop. An odd, little smile curved on pale lips and a soft rumbling laugh sounded in the back of his throat.

"Well, well, well," former Ensign Samuel Lawson murmured to himself. "I'll be damned...again."

With that, Sam strolled back from the ledge and set about the next step of his mission. That's all that mattered in this world. The mission.