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The Road to Hell... by All4Spike
 
Epilogue
 
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Epilogue
 
Wearing nothing but the black t-shirt that Spike had taken off when they’d gone to bed earlier, Buffy wandered into the practically empty family room waiting for Spike to attend to their crying daughter. She munched happily on a fat sandwich she’d suddenly had a craving for.
 
She gazed through the French windows out into the moonlit back yard, wondering whether to ask Xander to build a tree house and swing for Annie in the big old tree in the middle.
 
When Spike came up behind her, she leant back against him. He slid his hands up her sides under the t-shirt, and then around to cup her breasts. They were a little tender, which she put down to their earlier energetic christening of the huge new sleigh bed.
 
She wiggled to manoeuvre his hard cock into a more comfortable position, pressed into the crease of her ass, and quivered at the erotic sensations shooting through her as he continued to stroke and fondle her.
 
“Annie asleep?” Buffy crammed the last of her sandwich into her mouth so that she had both hands free to reach back and return his petting.
 
“Yeah. Finally. Typical first night in a new place. She woke up and the window was in the wrong place so she couldn’t remember where she was. Then there was a scary monster hiding in the dark corner behind the dressing table.”
 
“But she’s okay now?”
 
“She settled down as soon as I moved all the soddin’ furniture around so there’s no shadows for the monster to hide in.”
 
Buffy turned her head and smiled up at him. “Aw, that’s so sweet. You’re the perfect daddy, you know that?”
 
Spike scrunched his nose up and reared his head back. “For crying out loud, woman, what the hell have you been eating? Your breath stinks!”
 
“Only a PB and J.”
 
“Not what it smells like.” He firmly turned her face away from him. “Breathe away from me, love. ‘less you wanna go brush your teeth?”
 
“Want more sexing now,” Buffy grumbled, sliding her hand inside his robe and down his belly to grasp his erection and give it a firm squeeze.
 
Spike gasped then asked huskily, “Wanna christen this room too, then, ‘fore the turtle-dove moves in tomorrow and cramps our style?”
 
“Mmmmmmm….” Buffy pumped his cock a couple of times and then slipped the tip between her legs and slid it back and forth through the slickness that had gathered there, feeling him harden even more, if that was possible. “The guys are patrolling for us tonight to let us get settled in. Now school’s out, it’s gonna be a long summer with a house full of people so let’s tick off as many rooms as possible while we have the chance.”
 
Spike gave a low chuckle which vibrated deliciously through her. “I can go with that.” He grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and whipped it up and off, and then she felt the soft fabric of his robe fall around their feet.
 
He guided her a few paces over so she could lean on the arm of the only chair in the room, the classic high backed leather wing chair she’d spotted in a yard sale and fallen in love with. She helpfully spread her legs, went up onto tip-toe and hollowed her back to open herself to him.
 
Spike took her hips in a firm grip and groaned as he slowly pushed into her.
 
“You sure you don’t mind Dawn staying over next weekend after the housewarming party?”
 
“You really wanna talk about this now, baby?” Spike panted, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades.
 
“A simple yes or no will suffice,” she gasped, wriggling in invitation for him to start with the thrusting. When he still didn’t move, Buffy pushed back against him and tightened her inner muscles around his cock, squeezing as hard as she could.
 
He gave a strangled moan and reflexively rammed himself even deeper into her. “Course she can, slayer,” He growled breathlessly. “Mind you, might be a good idea to buy a bed for her room first. Doubt if she’d appreciate being the only member of the family sleeping on bare boards.”
 
Buffy grabbed his hand from her left hip, glanced down at the gem of Amara on his third finger and rubbed her thumb over the smooth surface of the new, understated platinum setting before guiding his hand to her breast.
 
“That’s good, I’ll tell mom,” she gasped. “She has the feeling that Brian is getting ready to propose, and when he suggested a weekend away up at Big Bear Lake…”
 
“He’s a decent bloke,” Spike said, stopping all movement. “And I think he’ll do her proud, ‘cos he knows damn well what’ll happen if he hurts her.”
 
Buffy sniggered. “What, did you put the fear of Spike into him?”
 
“Bloody right, I did! Your mum deserves a man with guts and determination who’ll stand by her, not like your wanker of a dad. Your mum’s beau was quaking in his size twelves, but he proved himself when he stood up to me. He’ll do, but I really don’t want to be thinking about him while we’re doing this!” He pulled back and emphasised the this by driving hard into her.
 
“Sorry, honey.” Buffy mimed the zipping of her lips and throwing away the key, then gripped the chair more securely and gave herself up to her mate’s enthusiastic attentions.
 
They comprehensively christened the family room, transferring first from the chair to the coffee table, and then to the floor when Buffy’s legs had become too unsteady to support her and she’d sunk to her hands and knees.
 
Feeling pleasantly loose and tingly, but still eager for more, and desperate for Spike kisses, Buffy headed for the downstairs cloakroom to finger-brush her stinky teeth then went to join him in the kitchen.
 
She found him standing, in all his unashamed nakedness, on the deck outside the wide open back door, surveying the yard and puffing away at a cigarette.
 
She stopped well back from the door and crinkled her nose. “Okay, now I’m all minty fresh and you’re going to taste like ash tray.”
 
“Sorry, love.” Spike flicked the butt away. He half-turned, revealing that he was still at half-mast, and held his hand out to her. “C’m’ere then.”
 
Buffy folded her arms across her chest and flushed at the thought of going out into the yard in bright moonlight where any of the neighbours could see. “But… naked!”
 
He turned to face her and put his fists on his hips. “Back garden is like another room, innit? We not goin’ to christen it, then?”
 
“Not naked, mister exhibitionist!” Buffy said in horror. “Yard sex should be all… furtive and… secret and… and not naked!” When Spike pouted, which was always totally adorable, she relented and decided to offer a compromise. “We’ll have yard sex another time, when it’s dark and we’ve finished patrol and we can sneak in and be sneaky. And quiet. I’m positive that quiet is also required for yard sex.”
 
She backed away so that she was leaning against the end of the big pine refectory table they’d… uh… salvaged from the Crawford Street mansion. She hitched her butt up onto it, legs apart.
 
She tried to disguise a smug smile when half-mast instantly became three-quarters mast.
 
She lay back and wriggled seductively. “Seems like it’s the perfect time to christen the kitchen.” She put her forefinger into her mouth and slowly drew it out again, wetly circled a nipple then trailed her finger down her stomach and belly before sliding it between her nether lips. Feigning nonchalance, she said, “Of course, if you’re so all-fired eager to play in the yard, I guess I’ll just have to christen it by myself.”
 
Sometimes, even now, she forgot just how fast vampires could move. It seemed that less than a second passed before Spike was kneeling worshipping her with his fingers and tongue.
 
When he lifted her legs to rest her thighs over his shoulders and pulled her a little forward so her butt jutted out over the edge of the table, she allowed her head to fall back and her hands to fall to her sides, closing her eyes to relish the sensations.
 
“What you gonna wear for this patrol, then, slayer?” he asked huskily while two fingers prospected for that spot inside her. “Can I pick out your outfit?”
 
She’d agree to anything while he was doing that, and he damned well knew it. Nevertheless, she panted out, “Yeah, okay. Let me guess, the red leather pants.”
 
“Nope.” She could feel him smile against her thigh as behind her closed eyelids, she saw a flash of her fighting in a skimpy scarlet cropped halter top over bouncing bra-less breasts, a tight black leather micro-skirt, and thigh-high stiletto-heeled boots. What was even freakier, she could sense his excitement as he stroked himself while he watched her fight, eager for her to dust the vampire so that he could have his wicked way with her there and then.
 
Their new connection had turned out to have a multi-functional benefit. Both while slaying and in their personal relationship. She had to admit that this time, his imagination was highly erotic, although typically… kinky. Coupled with the sensation of his tongue thrusting into her, the anticipation of realising his fantasy triggered her orgasm.
 
As she came down, she had a stray thought; perhaps she could go shopping in the morning while he waited in for Tara and the first load of furniture to arrive? She’d looked totally hot in those boots!
 
Then she gave way to the giggles. “Pervert,” she gasped out.
 
“You’d better bloody believe it!” He chuckled and stood up, lifted her back so that she lay full length on the table, then climbed up to kneel between her legs.
 
Suddenly he froze and she opened her eyes to see what was going on. He was propped up on one arm over her, examining his other hand. Then he sniffed it. He made a disgusted face and turned away, looking for something on which to wipe his hand. “Anchovies, slayer? Really? You hate anchovies!”
 
“Yeah, I know,” She said guiltily as he leaned over to grab a piece of kitchen roll. “I didn’t know we had any but Dawnie must have put them in the shopping cart when we were stocking up. It turns out they go really well in a PB and J. They add a certain something I never tasted before.”
 
Spike scrubbed at his hand then a patch of table beside her head. “Yeah, they add stinky bloody fish!”
 
Buffy sniffed disdainfully. “Well, I like it.”
 
Spike tossed the paper away and settled down between her hips, nudging against her opening. He leaned down and their mouths met. This is what she wanted! She lost herself to the delicious Patent!Spike!Kisses and sighed in pleasure as he filled her again.
 
They worked up into a regular rhythm but after a few minutes Buffy began questioning her choice of locations. The surface of the old table wasn’t quite as smooth as she’d thought, and her shoulder blades and butt were starting to protest.
 
Then a phone started ringing. Loudly. Close by.
 
She considered its unfamiliar ring tone for a few seconds before coming to a sudden realisation. She grabbed Spike’s shoulders in an attempt to slow him down. “Honey,” she gasped. “It’s the house phone… I meant to tell you they’ve connected it.”
 
Spike kept going, merely grumbling in bursts between his thrusts, “Soddin’ thing… Ignore it… Buffy, love.”
 
Can’t,” she grunted, tightening her grip. “The extension… upstairs…. We leave it… it’ll wake… Annie.”
 
“Bloody buggering hell!” Spike stilled and abruptly pulled out of her, leapt off the table, strode across the kitchen and grabbed the cordless phone from its holster on the wall. He barked down the mouthpiece, “What?
 
He listened for a moment then in a slightly more moderate tone he said, “Yeah, she’s here. This’d better be bloody good!” He stalked towards her and held out the phone. “It’s the watcher. He says it’s important.”
 
Buffy sat up, and crossed her arms over her chest. Spike wanted her to talk to Giles now? “I’m naked,” she hissed in dismay. She turned to sit at the edge of the table and put her feet down on a chair, legs pressed tightly together.
 
“For crying out loud, it’s not a bleedin’ video phone!” Spike muttered and marched off into the family room saying, “’ang on a tick, Rupert.”
 
He reappeared almost immediately and tossed her the t-shirt discarded at the beginning of their sexcacapades.
 
She just had time to pull it on before Spike thrust the phone into her hand. She shifted uneasily on the hard table and compulsively tucked the hem of the t-shirt down between her legs. “Giles? What’s up?”
 
“Well, for one thing, Spike’s telephone manner. Can’t you do something about him, Buffy?”
 
Buffy laughed. “Sorry, it’s just, you interrupted us. We were… uh…” Oh god, what could she say? Think, Buffy, think! “…busy, you know? All with the… uh… Oh! Unpacking boxes and… stuff.”
 
“I see.”Giles paused for a moment then muttered, “Oh I say.” He cleared his throat. “In that case, I’m terribly sorry I disturbed you, but I felt that you should know… Uh, is Spike still there?”
 
Buffy glanced around and saw that Spike was gone. She concentrated for a moment and when she could sense Spike, she said, “No, he’s gone into the family room.”
 
“Good. That’s good. Buffy, Quentin Travers’ assistant finally got back to me…”
 
“Wait a minute. You do realise that if something concerns me, it involves Spike too. That’s how this thing works. I won’t keep secrets from him. You can either tell me now and I’ll immediately go and tell him, or you can keep it simple and tell us both together.”
 
Giles heaved a heavy sigh. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised, but I had hoped…” he took a deep breath.“Do as you must, Buffy, but it is important.”
 
“Hold on, then…” Buffy hopped down from the table and went through into the family room. Spike had put his robe back on and was slouched in the chair, restlessly tapping his fingers on the arm. “You heard?” she asked quietly.
 
Spike looked up at her. His eyes were suspiciously bright. “Yeah, love. You mean it? No secrets? Not even with slayer stuff?”
 
“Damn right I do. We’re in this thing together now.” She climbed into his lap, cuddled down and held the phone so that they could both hear clearly.
 
“Okay, Giles. Now you’re talking to both of us. You said Old Jerkface’s assistant called…”
 
Giles spluttered a laugh. “Uh, yes Buffy. Quite. Uh… It’s about the golden statuette of Sinara. He utterly ignored the figure we’d quoted and said he was authorised to offer you twenty-five thousand pounds for it.”
 
Buffy opened her mouth and took a breath.
 
“And before you ask, that’s forty thousand dollars, or thereabouts.”
 
“Really?” Buffy turned to raise a questioning eyebrow at Spike, who merely shrugged.
 
“However, I have no hesitation whatsoever in advising you to turn the offer down flat. On the open market, the thing would probably fetch ten times that sum. I think I may suggest that your mother offer it for auction after all. Then Old… uh… that is, Quentin will be forced to pay the going price for it, whether he bloody likes it or not.”
 
Buffy giggled. “That’s great. That amount would give the support a family fund a hyooge boost. I would probably be able to set up a college fund for Annie.” She frowned in puzzlement. “That’s all? How come you felt that was so important you had to call this late? You could have told me that at the store.”
 
“Well, no, not entirely. I’ve also spoken to Ms Harkness in Devon…”
 
“Oh! Willow!”
 
“Willow’s fine, Buffy. Apparently, she’s still making satisfactory progress. Agatha has simply offered me a very fair price for a few of the enchanted artefacts you found. Should I send them to her?”
 
A quick glance at Spike confirmed Buffy’s opinion. “Yes please. But still…”
 
“Why don’t you stop faffin’ about and get to the bleedin’ point?” Spike said. “You know none of that warranted a phone call after midnight.”
 
“Yes… well… The fact is, when I spoke to Agatha... you remember that when she was here, something occurred to her but she couldn’t remember what it was? She said she’d meditate on it.”
 
“Uh huh.”
 
“Well, she finally got around to that, and what she told me… Well, I’ve been examining the scrolls you found in the crypt with the treasure, Spike. Putting the two together…”
 
“The chase, Giles,” Buffy snapped. “Cut to it.”
 
Giles heaved a sigh.“You’re not going to like what I have to tell you, Buffy.”
 
“Giles, late night watcher calls are never cause for celebration. Kinda already prepared for bad news.”
 
Very well. First, the scrolls. Once I’d figured out which language they were written in, an archaic form of Farsi used during the Persian Samanid Dynasty, they were fairly straightforward to decipher. One is simply a list of names. Spike, how many sets of human remains did you see in the tomb?”
 
Spike shrugged. “Didn’t exactly stop and count them, Rupert, but I reckon about half a dozen? Certainly no more than ten.”
 
“So that could fit. I suspect the names relate to the people interred with the treasure. I’ll look into those later. If I can find reference to any of them, it’ll help us determine a more precise date. The second scroll, however, is a different matter entirely. It appears to be a personal account of the events leading up to the digging of the tomb and the concealment of the treasure.”
 
He paused for a few seconds and Buffy heard him take a long breath.
 
She was just about to ask what was wrong when he said bluntly, “A personal account purporting to be written by a vampire.”
 
“A vampire buried the treasure?” Buffy said in disbelief. Why would a vampire bury the gem of Amara which could give him virtual immortality?
 
“So it would appear. Let me summarise the account for you. Some of the tale might seem… uh… uncannily familiar to you. It seems that this vampire sought out the slayer of the period, intending to kill her. They fought several times, but neither was able to kill the other. Then… the account doesn’t exactly go into detail with events here, but apparently the two eventually became lovers, claimed each other, and the vampire joined her as a partner in her slaying duties.”
 
Spike sniggered. “Hear that, slayer? You’re not unique, just following a pattern.”
 
Buffy pouted and poked him in the chest. “Shut up Spike.”
 
Giles chuckled.“Spike may be correct, Buffy. Your situation does appear to run in parallel with this couple’s, because they also produced a child.”
 
“Oh. My. God.”
 
“Precisely. Anyway, when the slayer’s watcher discovered that she was pregnant by a vampire, he tried to kill her.”
 
“What? Why?”
 
“The vampire relates that the watcher, for whom he uses several less than complimentary epithets, considered that his slayer was tainted and that the child would be accursed. Of course, he failed and died in the attempt and the couple went into hiding. She had the child and they kept on the move, but it’s unclear for how long, while the Council continued to pursue them.
 
“Inevitably, a team of Council operatives eventually found them. Buffy, I’m afraid they not only killed the slayer, but also her child. The vampire only just escaped with his own life.”
 
Buffy gasped. “They killed her baby? Oh my god, the poor little thing.” Her hand went to her mouth to hold in a sob, but tears began trickling down her cheeks.
 
Spike squeezed her against him and she snuggled into his comforting embrace. He took the phone from her and demanded, “Where was he while his family was being murdered? Why wasn’t the bastard fighting for his family?”
 
“Believe me, he is very clear in the account that he blames himself for their deaths. He says he’d been out with a couple of his cohorts investigating an account they’d received of a demon massacre. After he got home and found them, he went on a rampage, as you might expect, and by enthusiastic questioning of the messenger, he discovered that he had been deceived by a false report, and that it was a deliberate ploy to separate them.”
 
“Slayer’s upset, you berk. As you knew she would be. Let’s have the rest of it. Give us the punch line and be done with it.”
 
“There’s not much more. He set sail into the unknown with his remaining associates. He was determined that the Council would seize none of the artefacts they’d collected in their travels and avoided all populated areas. They must have arrived on this continent centuries before any other explorers. I simply can’t imagine the hardships they must have suffered during the voyage. And of course, we know what they must have done when they arrived.
 
“He explains how once the tomb was ready, he killed the locals whom he’d employed to assist with the excavation, and finally sacrificed his willing companions, and buried them all with the treasure to keep the location a secret. Then there is a dedication of the enterprise to the memory of his beloved slayer. His last words, written as he prepared to seal and conceal the tomb, were a statement to the effect that having fulfilled his vow, he intended to take off the Gem of Amara and go outside to sit and watch the sun rise.”
 
Buffy only had one question. “What was her name?”
 
“Her name? I don’t…”
 
“The slayer who the damned Council murdered. What was her name, Giles?”
 
“Ah. She was called Naghmeh. The closest translation into English would be Tune. Or possibly Melody.”
 
Buffy smiled sadly through her tears and said quietly, “Melody. That’s a pretty name.”
 
“Is that it?” Spike asked. “Slayer’s had enough.”
 
“I’m so sorry, both of you, I really am. Please rest assured that the Council will not take similar measures against you and Annie. You see, this is where Ms Harkness’ memory comes in. You probably weren’t aware that the Coven’s retreat welcomes seers as well as witches. They crave the balanced, tranquil atmosphere of the place which helps keep them sane as they experience their visions, which are naturally recorded for posterity.”
 
Buffy suddenly realised where Giles’ explanation was leading and sat up, grabbing the phone back from Spike and clutching his hand in a crushing grip. “It’s a prophecy, isn’t it? You’ve gone and found another prophecy about me. What does this one say? Am I going to die again? Now that I have everything I wanted, it’s all going to be…”
 
“Buffy… Buffy! This one’s not about you, my dear.”
 
Buffy heaved a sigh of relief then had an even more terrifying thought. “Oh my god. If it’s not about me, it’s about Annie, isn’t it?”
 
“That does seem to be likely, Buffy. I’m sorry, but I had to let you know…”
 
“We don’t need to know the details, not unless there’s something we need to do now. I just… is it a good prophecy or bad, Giles?”
 
“Calm down, Buffy. It’s nothing bad, I promise. In fact if it truly is about her, she will one day save the world all by herself. Possibly more than once. That’s why the Council will not be persecuting you.”
 
Hope blossomed in Buffy’s heart. “If? You said if. You’re not sure?”
 
“Well, you see, there’s one curious factor. Both the scroll and the prophecy use an ambiguous wording. That is, they don’t specifically use the term child. The prophecy uses offspring while the corresponding word in the scroll translates as progeny. Both of these terms are customarily used when referring to children in the plural. You see my point? That’s the reason I felt it was so urgent to ring you as soon as I realised. I needed to check… that is… it was something Spike said the day you found the treasure. Uh… you’ve proved that you and Spike can have one child…”
 
Giles took a deep breath and muttered as if to himself, “Just spit it out, Giles, old man.” In a desperate tone, he asked,“Please tell me that since you resumed your relationship with Spike, you’ve been taking precautions.”
 
“Precautions? Giles, I don’t understand…”
 
“Bloody Americans… Birth control, Buffy! Please tell me you’re using some form of birth control!”
 
Buffy found herself speechless for a moment. She glanced at Spike’s face and realised that he was just as shocked as she was. The phone dropped forgotten to her lap as she whispered, “Oh my god. I never even thought…”
 
“Not something I’ve ever had to worry about,” Spike said with a little shrug.
 
“Buffy?”
 
Buffy tried to hold in a hysterical giggle as random little things fell into place like an automatic jigsaw. She placed a hand over her belly and gazed into Spike’s eyes, wordlessly transmitting her awe and joy.
 
“Ready to face the whole daddy experience?” she whispered. “This time you’re in it from the start and you won’t get to miss a second.”
 
His mouth fell open and he glanced down at Buffy’s abdomen. He gently rested his hand over hers. “Do you really think…?”
 
Buffy simply nodded.
 
“God yes,” he whispered back, grinning from ear to ear.
 
“Buffy? Buffy! Are you still there?”
 
She put the phone back to her ear.
 
“Sorry, Giles. Thanks, but I think you’re a little late. Remember when I was expecting Annie? The pickles topping on chocolate, chocolate chip ice cream with a glass of pickle juice on the side?”
 
“How could I ever forget? I’ve never been able to eat either since then.”
 
“Well, I’ve just had a lovely peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
 
“I don’t understand, Buffy. What relevance…?”
 
“With a whole can of anchovies.”
 
“But you hate anch…” Giles gasped a quick indrawn breath.“Oh dear lord.”
 
 
 
A/N
 
And there it is. All done. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed. Please rest assured that every single one has meant the world to me and has encouraged me to keep plugging away when the inspiration dried up.
 
Yes, I know there are loose ends and teasers for the future in this ‘verse. The story is just begging for a sequel. However, to write a sequel, first I would need a story to tell. I have a few vague ideas, but the muse is thus far refusing to amalgamate them and flesh them out into anything remotely resembling a plot.
 
However, you never know…..
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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