Author’s Notes: This is a sad story and it’s not meant to be happy–so read at your own risk! Thanks to Yani for her beta :o)
Just a little bit longer
Please, please, please, please, please
Tell me you’re going to
(1 year after ‘Hells Bells’)
She knew this path like the back of her hand on a Tuesday… that might have been because it was a Tuesday and it was her day. Their day… their night.
She knew the trees that grew on his path, she knew the tombs she had to cross, she knew everything, she knew it all–like she knew him. Like she knew his back and his arms, like she knew his smell and his tongue. She knew all of him just as well as he knew her.
Her body sang with anticipation–heart drumming in her chest, fingers and nipples tingling with need. It was erotic, it was orgasmic, it was everything she needed and it was everything she shouldn’t.
His door was near; so near in the black night where birds sung of sad times, where spirits haunted the ones who are lost.
There in the dwellings of her demon lover she went, there to that place of escape, where she wasn’t the slayer nor Buffy, she was not sister nor friend… there she was just needed and loved–above all loved. Loved with passionate fire, loved with tenderness pale, loved with everything he was and more, loved like no other before.
He knew she was coming, like she did–every Tuesday, right at 8PM, she would come and would leave exactly at 4:30 AM. For eight and a half hours they were alone, alone in this town, alone in this world, alone in this universe. It had been so for four months. And he would do it till the end of her days.
It took seconds, it took minutes and those minutes turned into hours… soon the sun would come and she would untangle herself from his arms and tell him something like, “Dawn has school” or “I have the morning shift.” There was always an excuse and he was left alone with the heat of her body fresh on him and she would leave with the smell of his surrounding her.
(5 yrs later)
He kissed her shoulder ever so gently and she smiled lazily in her half-sleep. “You said you had something important to tell me.”
A small frown came to her face. “Let’s not talk about that, let’s not talk about anything tonight.”
He studied her for some time. “Ok.” He complied and wrapped his arms around her.
But her conscience was killing her, it was tugging from all sides–here in this bed, in these arms she never held anything back and neither did he.
“I’m going to marry him, Spike.” She felt the arms around her go stiff and she could hear the clenching and unclenching of his jaw.
He somehow hoped. He always hoped; hope was all he had. He hoped that something was wrong with this one. That something was going to be wrong with all the others and one day she would come to him and accept them like he always dreamed.
“Robert?” he asked, almost a whisper.
She gulped and nodded.
“I see,” he responded after a while. So this was the end of their affair. After all these years this was it. After seven years of holding her, kissing her, having her, she was just going to be ripped away from his arms by an idiot that she met seven months ago.
“Yes,” she said, almost pondering and understanding for the first time what this meant. It was no longer cheating on her boyfriend… it was an affair behind her husband’s back. An affair she would rather die than give away.
“Do you love him?” he asked, kissing the top of her head, almost forgiving her.
She didn’t respond that night, she didn’t respond that ever.
(6 months later)
His heart was breaking. Ever much more than before. He had been crying for what seemed like days. Almost weeks. But tonight even so more. She had been married for six days. Six days she had left his bedside almost in tears and he had said nothing. Nothing at all–he just stared at the ceiling… when she left the tears started to flow… they hadn’t stopped since.
He was pulled from his sulking when his crypt door was almost ripped opened.
If his heart could beat it would’ve stopped when he heard her shout his name. Before he could go up the stairs she dropped down, sobbing and wet from the outside rain.
“Buffy! Did he ‘urt you, did he harm you?” he asked, watching over her tears.
She shook her head and threw herself in his arms. “Oh god! I missed you!” She kissed his face over and over. He grasped her body against his and sobbed along side with her.
“I tried to stay away, I did, I swear I did, Spike, but I can’t–this is so wrong,” she babbled between tears.
“Hush, luv, it’s ok–you’re here. You can still leave him, you’ve been married only a week,” he encouraged with hope filling his heart.
She suddenly stopped and stepped away. He could feel his heart constricting. It was painful–it hurt, he knew her answer.
“I can’t,” she said, tears still leaving her pale green eyes. “He’s my husband now, Spike. I’m his wife…”
They stood there looking at each other, both wounded, both wet with tears, both needing the other. “So Tuesday nights then?” he asked.
“Don’t try the shame bit, slayer. We’ve only been doing it for the past six years. Nothing’s changed. Only now you sleep with another man for the rest of the week.” He was bitter.
He shook his head. “I won’t mention it again. If coming to me is what you want, then we won’t argue about that.” He stepped forward and touched her heated cheek lightly. “Anything I can get from you I take.”
And he did.
Now, your daddy don’t mind
And your mommy don’t mind
If we have another dance
Just one more
One more time
(1 yr Later)
He heard she had been hurt and all the blood left in his body was almost vomited out. He ran. He ran in the sunlight, with his trusty blanket, not carrying if people stared at the way his back was sizzling, not even feeling the pain himself. She had been in a car accident.
She was not meant to go this way, he kept telling himself.
When he got to the hospital he ran into her posse. Xander glared at him and Robert didn’t even notice him as his head was buried in his hands.
“What are you doing here?” Willow asked, sniffling a bit.
“I heard… how is she?” he asked desperately.
“We don’t know,” Xander answered roughly.
“Dawn?” he asked.
“She’s still in Spain with Eric,” Anya answered for the rest.
Spike swallowed and tried to drown in the shadows of the hospital. He hated hospitals.
The doctor in scrubs came walking quickly out of the double doors. All eyes were on him.
“The Summers party?” he asked.
“Doriann. She’s Buffy Doriann now,” Robert answered for him.
“You’re the husband?”
Spike almost yelled, ‘No I am,’ but held himself in check.
“She’s stable, the baby is fine, she didn’t lose it.”
“Baby?” Robert and Spike asked at the same time. Her husband gave Spike a sideways glare.
“Yes, she’s four months pregnant and the tike is healthy as can be–strong one like his mother,” he beamed. Everyone let out a sigh of relief.
“Can I see her?” Robert asked.
The doctor nodded. “Only two, please–she’s still a bit woozy from the medicine.”
Xander and Robert followed him but Spike got in the way. “May I… just for a second, it won’t be long…”
“Spike,” Xander warned.
Spike glared at the brunette.
“I have just right as anyone!” he protested. Xander grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and pushed him up against the wall, pinning him there.
“You have NO right, none at all. All you’re to her is an annoyance. Stay away–he’s her husband, not you. She’s HIS wife not yours. Learn to accept your place.”
With that he let him go and followed the other two men who were already down the hall.
They didn’t know he cried that day. He cried for her, he cried for the baby that she was carrying that wasn’t his, he cried for them and he cried for himself and the truth in Xander’s words.
But that didn’t stop him from waiting until visiting hours were over and most of her friends had gone, until all that was left was Robert and Willow.
He snuck in from the back, blending into the darkness until he made it to her room.
She was asleep when he entered, but woke up when he got closer.
She couldn’t see him in the darkness of the room but she knew he was there.
“Spike?” her voice was hoarse.
He was instantly at her side, holding her hand, kissing her cheeks.
“I’m here, luv,” he whispered.
She whimpered and tried to pull him closer. “I’m so scared.”
He made little cooing sounds and ran his hands through her hair softly. “Nothing to be afraid of, pet. I’m here.”
She smiled and brought his hand to her face, letting his coolness chill her. He gently touched the cuts on her face, placing a kiss wherever her skin was bruised until she was almost asleep again.
“Why are you here?” she asked him some hours later.
He brought the palm of her hand to his face, so she could feel him with her eyes closed. “Tuesday night, Buffy. On Tuesday night you’re mine.”
“And you’re mine?” she almost whispered.
“No, pet–I’m always yours.”
She smiled contently and promptly fell asleep.
He watched her the rest of the night and for the rest of the nights she was in the hospital.
All the while trying to ignore the two heartbeats in the room.
(3 months later)
Spike was torn from his comfy sleep as the door to his crypt was torn open and sunlight filtered in.
He jumped up waiting to attack. But didn’t know whether to stay like that or relax as he saw Robert standing in front of him–with a smirk on his face.
“I’m sure you didn’t come here for chit chat.”
The man smiled and looked around the place. Giving a disgusting look to his home.
“So this is were she comes every week to fuck you raw?”
Spike stiffened and thought of all the ways to exit in case he decided to pull a stake. He didn’t pull a stake–not a real one anyways, but one that hit his heart just as much.
“How can I help you, mate?”
Robert gave him a grin. “I could ask you to get out of town and never come back.” He walked over to Spike’s black couch and sat down comfortably, crossing his legs at his knee, showing off his expensive leather shoes. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you?”
“I won’t leave this town without her.”
A small chuckle came from his throat.
“How romantic. I bet you’re a poet, William.”
“You might be surprised. She seemed to like it,” Spike retorted.
The man went from laughing to being stone cold. “I won’t tell her not to see you cause I know she’ll find a way. I’m hoping she’ll grow out of this little fling she has with you soon.” He leaned forward and looked straight into Spike’s eyes. Never blinking. “The truth is that I’m not afraid of you. I can give her ten times what you do. It’s me who gave her the child she’s carrying, it’s me that gave Dawn her Ivy League education, it’s me who’s given her the six-bedroom house in the suburbs and it’s me that takes her out for walks in the sun. And it’s my heart that she listens to after we’ve made love.”
Spike didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.
(2 months later)
“You can touch it, you know.” She told him as she laid back, a thin sheet of sweat covering her skin.
Spike almost glared at her about to pop belly. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, pulling it to her stomach.
“He doesn’t kick anymore. But you can feel his head,” she said almost sadly.
Spike’s eyes filled with wonder and then he drew his hand back and stood from their bed.
She watched him walk back and fort in the small room. “I wish it were yours.”
He stopped and turned to look at her quickly. “But it isn’t.”
His voice rang through out the cave. She looked at him and rubbed her belly almost trying to comfort the child… and herself.
“I must look horrible, right?” she pouted and glared down at her swollen belly.
Spike’s heart melted. There she was–his slayer… with the child of another man. “You look beautiful.” He poured himself a drink. “Bet Robert tells you all the time.”
Buffy’s face fell. “He never tells me… he hasn’t told me in a long time.”
And that was the beginning of the dissolving of her marriage. If she would’ve come with him, he would’ve taken her far away, her and the child–show them what real love was. But she left at 4:30–same as always.
Oh, won’t you stay
Just a little bit longer
Please let me hear
You say that you will
(1 month later)
Buffy rocked her baby to sleep, singing soft lullabies to him.
“I touch the fire and it freezes me…”
The baby sighed in his sleep. “I look into and it’s black.”
She felt two strong hands circle her shoulders and she instantly smiled.
“Is he home?” he asked.
She smiled and closed her eyes, leaning her head against his chest. “Nope, out all night.”
“All night, eh?”
She looked up at him, smiling as their lips met. “Wanna hold him?”
Spike almost jumped back as he stared at the little person in her arms. He shook his head.
Buffy stood up slowly, her body still adjusting. “Here, just sit down and I’ll hand him to you.”
“Buffy, I don’t think it’s a good idea, luv.”
“It’s easy, relax.” Spike sat down on the rocking chair she had previously occupied.
The child weighed nothing in his arms. He felt he was going to break it. “Hold his head,” she whispered.
Spike watched the baby stir a bit in his arms, little fist swinging out. “Fighter, like his mum.”
Buffy smiled and kissed her baby’s head then kissed her love on the lips.
“He hasn’t even been this gentle with him,” she said sadly.
Spike bit his lip. “Let’s get out of here, Buffy. We’ll get far away. We’ll take the tike, and no one will find us.”
Buffy looked as if she were considering it for a moment then shook her head. “It’s still the same, Spike–even more complicated. It’s not fair to Robert. It’s his son, Spike. How about my sister? And my friends? Shall I say goodbye to them too?”
She didn’t tell him that night but if he had persisted she would’ve left.
(4 years later)
“You had to see him, he was so proud of himself,” she said smiling as she lightly traced patterns on his chest.
“Bobby’s all grown up then, riding his tricycle and all.” He smiled down at her.
“He is… I don’t have a baby anymore,” she pouted.
Spike took a deep uncomfortable breath. “You and Robert ever tried to have anymore?”
He could feel the sadness radiating from her skin. “We haven’t… he hasn’t… well you know.”
Spike didn’t say anything but just held her. Right now her only happiness was her son and Tuesday nights.
(2 years later)
“Where are you going?”
Her body went stiff as he rolled out of bed. “I need a drink.”
Robert turned on their light and she flinched against it. He glared at her.
“You’re not the only one getting laid, Buffy,” he told her.
Buffy gaped at him.
“Oh, don’t act surprised. I know you go to him every Tuesday, I can smell him on you every week–how do you think that makes me feel?”
She didn’t answer him but walked to her closet, still intending on going to Spike’s.
“You don’t touch me, what do you expect me to do?” she asked him.
He jumped out of bed and followed her. “I don’t touch you? How do you expect me to touch you when you’ve smelled like him for so long I can’t tell the difference between you two!”
“You have no right!” Buffy spat at him but was quickly shut up as a hard palm landed on her face. She gasped and looked at him.
“You can fuck him all you want but you will not shame this house. You fuck who you like and I fuck who I like. I’m running for Senator this year and I’ll not have my wife’s obsession with corpses make me lose the race. I’ll not have her shame my son cause she can’t keep her legs closed.”
Buffy slapped him back and he grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her back.
For the first time since she was twenty-four she wished she still had slayer strength. “You can’t stop me,” she hissed at him.
“No,” he said quietly. “And I don’t intend to, as long as you play the perfect wife the rest of your time you can see him on your Tuesday nights.”
“And my son?”
“Pray he doesn’t find out what type of a mother he has.”
(3 years later)
“Where are we going?” she asked smiling as he carried her.
“It’s your 32nd birthday let me surprise you,” he hissed, yet she could almost see the smile in his lips.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and kissed his neck. “Can I get a hint?”
“I hate you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She smiled when he stopped and placed her gently on her feet. “Stay still.”
She could hear him doing things. Then he took her hands in his and made her walk forward. “Easy, luv, I’ve got you.”
She giggled and waited patiently as he walked behind her, untying her blindfold. She gasped as she saw the sight before her.
They were on top of a hill, facing the west and far away she could see L.A. with its bright lights and its enchanting people. “Wow.”
His arms snaked around her middle and he kissed her ear. “Happy birthday.”
She leaned her head back against his shoulder. He was exactly the same. Nothing about him had changed, yet she had sagged and her hair had tinned out. There were fine lines in the corners of her eyes and her skin wasn’t as tanned as it was when she was twenty-one.
“Why are you still with me?” she asked softly. She turned to look at him. “I’m old and I have a kid and I’ve never given you the one thing you’ve asked me for.”
He took her face in his hands, kissing her nose. “The night is our universe, and this ‘ere is our world. You and I have each other and that is more than I deserve.”
She left that morning again. She didn’t tell him why. She stopped giving him excuses years ago. And he didn’t ask her for any. A simple kiss and a loving hug and a ‘I’ll see you next Tuesday’ was enough for him. Her embraces lasted him all week.
Won’t you press your sweet lips
Won’t you say you love me
All of the time
(3 yrs Later)
A Masquerade Ball
The ballroom was filled with people. Classy, rich people–welcoming her husband into office.
She smiled and chatted as she tried not to step on other people’s Armani dresses. A rough hand in the small of her back steered her to another crowd.
“Smile, lovely–this man here is a very important investor.” Robert told her as she plastered a Colgate smile on her face.
They laughed and told jokes that seized to be funny since 1984.
It was when she felt alone and in desperate need to run out to him that she saw him. He was in a black suit and a black mask covered his face but she knew that hair and she knew that body. Her heart pounded loudly as she blinked behind her lioness mask.
He walked, smirk on his face, until he was almost invading her personal space.
“Good evening, Mrs. Doriann.”
She tried to glare at him. “What are you doing?”
Spike sighed and looked around. “Well as I plan to invest in some of the bills that your husband might be passing …”
“Where did you get a suit?” she interrupted him.
He smirked at her again and his ears perked up as a classic waltz started.
He stretched his hand and looked at her. She glared at his hand and her eyes darted around the room, as if a sign on top of them screamed ‘we’re lovers.’
“You know you wanna dance,” he said seductively.
Her eyes met his and she was lost. She seized questioning her motives and just let him lead her to the dance floor.
Arms wrapping around each other, much too far for their comfort–wanting to hold and to kiss and to get lost in eternal bliss.
Eyes looked on as the Senator’s wife and the younger man danced in enviable coordination.
She didn’t care. She just wanted to be here, behind masquerades where nothing mattered and they could be anyone.
She wasn’t an ex-slayer or a senator’s wife and he wasn’t a 145 yr old vampire. Just a man in love with a woman and a woman who loved him back.
She knew these hands–they were his hands that belonged to her.
“I love you,” he told her.
“I know,” she responded.
He didn’t smile that time. The time for hearing had already dawned on him; he knew she loved him back.
“Let’s get out of here, Buffy. Forget this place, forget him, forget everyone.”
She didn’t say anything but held him closer, too close for a married woman.
“You know I can’t.”
He shook his head and she knew that he was on the verge of crying–she knew cause she was there herself.
“I don’t know anything but that I love you. That’s all I know. That’s all you need to know in life.”
Their moment ended as a strong hand that was not Spike’s came around her waist, almost pulling her from her lover’s embrace.
Spike glared at Robert, looking up at the much taller man.
“Senator,” he greeted coolly, trying to ignore how Buffy’s body was now flushed against her husband’s.
“You don’t mind if I borrow my wife do you, ol’ boy?”
Buffy looked down at the floor.
Spike gave him a tight smile. “She’s all yours.”
Buffy’s heart broke as she heard the defeat in his voice.
“How kind of you… I trust that you’ll find your way out… or shall I have my men escort you?”
Buffy glared at her husband. “Robert,” she hissed in warning.
“I can find the door, mate,” he smiled. She watched almost in longing as her vampire left, shoulders sagged and defeated.
She turned in to her husband’s large embrace. “Don’t you dare hurt him.”
Robert smiled and shook his head at his men. “I promise.”
(2 years later)
Buffy smiled as the cameras flickered her vision.
“Mr. Senator, how does it feel to have your bill passed unanimously?”
“Mr. Senator, running for presidency next year?”
“Mr. Senator, what are your thoughts on the high crime waves recently?”
She felt dizzy. There standing in the background, letting the cameras capture all that was her outside shell.
They also captured when she fainted.
Robert didn’t look up when he walked in. “Took you longer than what I thought.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “Where is she?”
“You know,” the man leaned back and stared at the vampire. “I envied you for many years. I hated you. But the fact that she’s still here –with me, makes it all the more comforting.”
Spike smiled tightly and nodded. “Yeah, I guess you do have the better deal.”
The man glared back at him. “She stays with me–I’m no longer a rich man in Sunnydale–I’m a United States senator. She stays with me even if she has to fuck you every night.”
Spike didn’t break his gaze. “Must be hard for you, I think. You might pass bills and pay for drapes but you still can’t make her cum.”
“You know her room–you’ve been in there enough times.”
He found her sleeping amongst a pile of golden pillows, her hair splayed out around her. She looked pale and for the first time he realized that she was older. Her age was showing. She was no longer a slayer–just a woman who was unhappy except when in his arms.
He sat next to her just staring at her.
“I should leave him…” she whispered, her eyes still closed.
Spike laid on the bed next to her, pulling her thin small body next to him. “Would you?”
“Bobby…. he just started his new high school… his father is a senator, I couldn’t do that to my son.”
“Ok, pet, whatever you like.”
They stayed there in silence. “I wish I were twenty-two again, Spike…”
He listened to her re-write their lives and how they would be living in some simple farm out in Montana where the evenings were long and the beef was rare.
She fell asleep there in his arms.
Two weeks later they found out she had cancer.
The next two years were like a haze. She cried when she lost her hair and he told her she still looked beautiful and he was the only one that held her when she felt the weakest.
He held her hand when she was in pain and made love to her when she had the strength. But he never lost faith that she wouldn’t pull through.
He knew that though she was no longer the slayer–there was slayer strength in that body.
(5 years after the cancer was diagnosed)
It was too late to hide when Mary and Frank Polter walked in to find Robert’s wife embraced by a younger man as they kissed each other passionately.
Mary gasped and turned red, excusing herself quickly. Frank stared at Buffy as the young man left quickly out the back door.
“Mrs. Doriann… I’m deeply ashamed.”
Buffy didn’t know whether to hide or tell him to mind his own business.
Spike wasn’t surprised when while running, two SUV’s blocked his way and five large men got out.
But he was surprised at how they threw him unceremoniously into his crypt instead of killing him after they beat him half to death.
“A little friendly note from Mr. Doriann,” they laughed as he whimpered on the floor.
That’s how Buffy found him.
She let out a sob as she cradled his head against her breast. “Did he do this?”
Spike just closed his eyes and nodded. It wasn’t Tuesday, he was getting to feel her an extra day–that made him feel 100% better.
“He’s a monster, he is, he swore he wouldn’t touch you.” She kissed his head, his hands, his mouth.
“As long as we stayed secret… we were seen.”
“I don’t care who sees us, I don’t care,” she sobbed, holding him to her. “I want to live again, Spike, I want to be Buffy again. This is not me.”
He let her cry that night, he let her dress his wounds and she didn’t leave his side until two days later.
Just a little bit longer
Please, please, please, please, please
Tell me you’re going to
Robert looked up from his paperwork as his wife waltzed into the room. Her face was set and her hips swung as she walked.
“Oh and you decided to re-appear?”
“You bastard!” she spat out. Robert continued to write. “How could you! He could’ve been killed!”
“He’ll live… not literally but he’ll walk,” he looked at her and smiled.
Buffy looked at him in disbelief, as if for the first time she really saw him. “You’re a monster. All these years, all my life, I have kept the man I love in hiding cause I thought he was a monster and all this time I was married to him.”
Robert shrugged. “You dug your own grave, darling. Seeing him ends today. You’ve made a fool out of your family, your son and yourself. My 45 year-old wife who gets her kicks with a twenty something boy.”
“He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be. And my son hates you so what’s the point?” she said. “He likes Spike more than he likes you.”
“You turned him against me with your insistence that we come back to this god awful town!” He shouted at her, walking around his desk.
Buffy stared at him, tears streaming down her face. “Marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life.”
Robert smacked her. She grabbed her cheek and stared at him in disbelief. He hadn’t hit her since that day when he confronted her about her affair –years ago.
He grabbed her arm as she turned around. “Let go of me!”
“You’ll not leave this house! You are MY wife!”
“You’re hurting me!”
Robert lifted her up and sat her on his desk, hitting her again. “You’ll stay here. This is the real world, Buffy.”
“I don’t love you!” she cried and he grabbed her upper arms and shook her.
“I don’t care! I stopped caring the day you left my bed a week after we got married!”
Buffy sobbed and tried to wrench herself from his grasp. “Let go, Robert!”
Her husband took her skirt in his hands and ripped it up the middle. Buffy’s eyes widened and she stared at him in disbelief.
“Stop!” she cried.
He grabbed the back of her neck and smashed her mouth against his.
She scratched his face and whimpered under his assault, screaming as she heard him unzip his pants.
“I haven’t touched you in nineteen years!”
He hit her again and she chocked on her spit and blood.
“Help me! Someone help me!” He placed his hand over her mouth and spread her legs.
She wriggled under his body. “Robert don’t do this, please.”
She didn’t know what happened but his large body was ripped off her and the next thing she saw was Spike in game face, growling at Robert, who was thrown to the floor with his dick hanging from his pants.
“Touch her again and I’ll kill you, chip be dammed.”
Robert only cowered under his gaze. Spike shook off his game face and looked at Buffy. Her hair was a mess, she was bleeding from her mouth, her skirt was ripped and she looked bruised and beaten.
His heart broke as he picked her up. Still at 45 she was a little woman, thin and bony. He cradled her against his chest and she sobbed.
Spike didn’t bother to look at Robert as he jumped out the library window into the soft grass.
Robert stood up, zipping himself up as his men came in.
“You want us to kill him, boss?”
Robert wiped the blood from his own lips and watched the shadow disappear into the woods. “No… I never break my promises boys… I promised my dear late wife that I would never harm her beloved creature.”
“Late wife, sir?” one asked.
Robert turned to look at them. “Yes… late wife.”
Buffy watched Spike as he packed his few belongings into his black suitcase. A smile spread on her face. “We’re really doing it, Spike, aren’t we?”
Spike smiled at her. She was wearing some sweats and one of his shirt, snuggled comfortably in their bed. “Yeah, baby we are.”
She wanted to cry. “I told him, Spike, I finally did—just like you always wanted me to.”
Spike sat down next to her and held her close. “No more talk of him, ok, pet? We’ll never hear from him again. That little farm in Montana is still waiting.”
Buffy pulled back and smiled at him.
“I can’t ride a horse but I can’t wait to do it.”
He laughed and pulled her out of bed. “The car is a few blocks down, think you can walk?”
She laughed and kissed him. “I feel like I have my slayer strength back, don’t let this old body deceive you.”
“Old body? Still as firm as the day I first touched you.”
Buffy wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked out the old crypt. “Liar.”
He stopped and looked back at the crypt. “Gone miss this place.”
She wrapped her hand around his. “We made many memories here.”
He nodded then shook himself. “We’re going to make 101 new ones.”
They were talking of the house, of the farm, of the long evenings, that they didn’t see the two men waiting by his car.
It was only when the gunshot sounded that Spike saw the men. Placing to the back of his mind that Buffy’s body had sunk to the floor he swung himself to the men and killed them, screaming with them as the shit in his brain went off.
When he was done, panting he crawled to where she laid.
“Buffy!” he cried.
He flipped her over watching in horror as blood had covered the front of his black shirt–the one she was wearing.
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“Are we there yet, baby, are we in Montana?”
Tears slid from Spike’s cheeks as he frantically tried to stop the bleeding. “Please, please” were the words that kept coming out of his mouth. But he knew it–the demon in him screamed it.
When her weak hand grasped his. “Take me home.”
And he did–he ran with her to his crypt, to their bed.
As he placed her down the blood was already covering the white sheet… this time he made no attempt to stop it. He knew better.
He combed the hair from her forehead and kissed her lightly. She coughed. More blood.
“I’m so sorry…” she whispered. “All this time… all these years… and I never told you I loved you.”
“I knew, pet. I’ve known all along,” he almost sobbed.
“But I never told you… week after week, I’m a fool…”
“Don’t say that, don’t speak,” he shushed her and held her to him.
“With you… with you was my life… all my life… with you.”
He knew she died when her heart stopped beating and her body sagged.
He cried like an animal that night, he howled until his throat was raw and bloody.
Come on, come on
Come on and stay
He felt the need to say something as he held her body awaiting the coming of the sun.
Poetry perhaps? His dull mind thought.
“The wind doth blow today, my love,
And a few small drops of rain;
I never had but one true love,
In cold grave she was lain.
“I’ll do as much for my true love
As any young man may;
I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave
For a twelvemonth and a day.”
The twelvemonth and a day being up,
The dead began to speak,
“Oh who sits weeping on my grave,
And will not let me sleep?”
“‘Tis I, my love, sits on your grave
And will not let you sleep,
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips
And that is all I seek.”
“You crave one kiss of clay-cold lips,
but my breath smells earthy strong;
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips
Your time will not be long:
“‘Tis down in yonder garden green,
Love, where we used to walk,
The finest flower that ere was seen
Is withered to a stalk.
“The stalk is withered dry, my love,
So will our hearts decay;
So make yourself content my love,
Till God calls you away.”
When the sun came up he had stopped crying and he was finally free.
Robert’s body was found that same night by the docks. It was mutilated and burnt.
Sunnydale Police confirmed it was a car accident though no car was ever found.
All of his father’s inheritance went to Robert Doriann, Jr. A near estimate of 1.2 million dollars. He is happily married to Melissa Neddles.
Dawn Summers became a well-known journalist after she attended Princeton and is now married with three children that she adores and a faithful husband.