They’d spent hours in each other’s arms. He knew the words were there, he could feel them sitting right on the tip of his tongue. He could even taste their sweetness as it filled his mouth. They slowly rose and made his chest ache. But they wouldn’t push past his lips.

He slowly left her warmth and went out into the light of the world. The light was his once, when his youngling was with him.

When she left the darkness overcame the world. And, he was cold. Now the light and warmth was here. She had brought it with her.

He looked out onto the bright, hurtful things of this world. A world filled with frightening things, that he knew he should know, but that were lost in the fog in his head- the haze of memory. His heart beat again, in this place, and that was enough.

He was here, and there was no going back.

He longed for familiar things.

He walked down the stairs in the soft light of morning, as the images from his sleep were still vivid. His sleep had somehow made this place known to him. He carefully prowled around the open areas, brushing his fingertips across the furnishings as he went.

He knew his time alone had made him primitive, and that discouraged him because he was unable to communicate with Her, or his youngling. But, he still understood what the things of this world were, even though he hadn’t touched them in a very long time.

As he quietly opened the small metal closet that sat at the edge of an open space, he looked at the things that hung there, and then down at the cloths he was wearing, and realized that they were the same.

These things were his. He belonged here, at one time, and would belong again.
*********************************************************

Oscar Lendman had an eye for details. He was an accountant for Wolfram and Hart, and he was prepared to keep Liam Donovan alive for a very long time. Years, if need be. The abandoned shed was well stocked with water and food staples.

Now, there was only one question. How much did Liam Donovan want to survive?

Oscar placed the loaf of bread and the bottle of water within his reach, and grinned when the man snatched them up greedily.

“Well, I can see that you recognize the pangs of hunger,” Oscar said as he watched the man gulp down the bread, all the while sending his captor a steely, boring gaze. The vampire smiled, his blue eyes dancing, “You’d better be careful. Eat too much of that and you could make yourself sick,” he said, seemingly concerned, “That wouldn’t be good,” he shrugged, “Of course, you…could stop eating,” his eyes glinted, “But then, you would die. Is that any way to show your gratitude for being alive?”

“I’ll get out of here, you know,” Liam said gruffly, “You sleep during the day. I could stake you, or set you on fire.”

Oscar laughed, and his laughter echoed in the dark, cavernous building, “Please! Do you think I’d give you anything that can be used as a weapon? Look around,” he said, his eyes sweeping the darkness, “There’s nothing here. Nothing except what I bring to you. There will be no knives, no eating utensils of any kind. No matches, no lighters, no wood. Not even a toothpick, and, of course, no cellular phone. There are no chains here. You’re free to move anywhere you like. But, you’re still stuck here,” there was a flash of amber, and Liam drew back in fright, “until I let you out. Amazing, isn’t it? How weak you are now? One little lock, and you’re stuck. There are no windows, so it’s always night. I don’t need to sleep. I could last for weeks without feeding. How long can this stalemate last?”

Liam’s voice sounded sure, but there was an undercurrent of fright held within it, “Spike will find me.”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Oscar said, “But, I’ve done my research. X’yxeth is different for every inhabitant. It’s a temporal rift, essentially. And, emotions can cause the waves within the rift to fluctuate wildly. When things are calm, time slows. However, when they’re not…” he looked deeply into his former employer’s eyes, “Without his child, how calm do you think Spike was in that place? I’d estimate hundreds of years have passed for him there. Does he even remember you? And, if he does, will the years of torture and rape, at your hands, have any affect on what he feels for you? If he feels anything at all?”
***********************************************************

Spike noticed the design on the floor. A circle with a bit of white and black, that joined in the center. He let his eyes take it in as he slowly walked to it. As his bare feet skidded over the floor, he was comforted as his mind took him to images that he’d all but forgotten.

Her beautiful, softly musical words rang in his head, ”Now who has the shoe fetish?”

He could hear his own voice, feigning irritation, but delighting in her, and her fire and life. Reveling in her closeness and her warmth, “Buffy, will you please focus!”

He shook the image off, and walked to retrieve one of the quarterstaffs that hung, waiting to be used, in brackets on the wall. He took one down and felt it’s weight as he slowly turned it in his hand.

Unconsciously, his body began to move in ways he’d forgotten.
********************************************************

Buffy was warmed slowly, as the late morning sunlight filtered into the room. She sleepily opened her eyes and she smiled as she watched the light making soft pools on the floor.

Then she realized that Spike wasn’t next to her, and her breath stilled as she listened to sounds of a scuffle from beneath.

She put her robe over her cotton nightgown, and followed her instincts as she ran the short distance to Jonina’s room, and opened the door. She sighed with relief when her daughter was sleeping safely, with her stuffed toy rabbit cradled in her arms.

The rhythmic sounds stirred something within her as she descended the stairs and made her way to the dojo.

As the muffled sounds grew louder, her heart was filled with concern. If Spike was confused, maybe even hurting, she wanted to help.

When she came to the opening that led to the main workout room, her mind flashed on a memory of Spike quickly stepping over the remains of the old tackling dummy, that she had dismembered in a fit of frustration, to hold her and comfort her.

There he was, in the middle of the floor, wielding a quarterstaff as if it were a part of him. As he whirled, she watched, and saw familiar gestures. The way he moved made her smile, and the unneeded use of breath, as he grunted from physical exertion, sent a giggle through her.

He’s beautiful. No wonder he calls it a dance. There’s no effort there. He flows like water.

It was soft, and she tried to stifle it, but he must have heard it, because he turned to face her, his chest heaving as he stared at her with wide, dark eyes.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, “Sorry,” she mumbled, slowly stepping to him, “I didn’t mean to scare you,” her eyes lowered and she sighed, “It’s just…this is so you. It’s good to see.”

She slowly melted into his embrace as they met in the middle of the floor. He held her lightly and murmured in her ear for a moment. Then he pulled back slightly, and regarded her quizzically. She could see a question forming, and waited patiently as he gently held her.

His voice came softly and unsure, as he touched her hair and his hand slid down her chest to stop at her heart, “You…”

The hope swelled within her, “Me?” she put her hand to her chest, and saw the question in his eyes, “I’m Buffy,” her hands trembled as they reached for the clasp of the chain around her neck. His wedding ring; the thing he’d given her as a sign of hope when she’d left him in that Hell dimension, with Jonina, “Here,” her voice quavered as she held the silver in her hand, “this is yours. Remember, Spike?”

His own hands were shaking as he took the precious ring. The images of her departure and the darkness that came after assailed him, “B…uffy?” he whispered, “Buffy?” he slowly placed the silver where he intuitively knew it belonged-on the third finger of his left hand, “Wife…?”

“Yes,” she said, breathless with joy, “Yes I am, and always will be.”

As they kissed one another, in a room bathed in sunlight, the smiling eyes of a little girl watched happily as the sweeter things from her dreams began to come true.

Jonina turned to sneak back up the stairs to her bed, and whispered softly in her little rabbit’s ear, “Thank you, Spike, I knew you’d make things right again.”