Chapter 34: Epilogue
Author's Notes: All my notes are at the end. Just wanted to again express my deepest thanks to all my wonderful readers; you all made both writing and publishing this story so much fun. You reinvigorated my love of the series and, more importantly, my love of my ‘ship. Your emails, reviews, criticisms, notes of encouragement, and so forth have positively made my summer.
New England, 1701 She knew not to do anything without salt. There was no rhyme or reason to such knowledge—only the knowledge itself. Salt was invaluable. Salt bade witches away. Salt shielded hallowed grounds. Salt was the only mineral of the earth which offered pure, unadulterated protection. She knew, then, to encircle herself in salt before conjuring a demon.
Even with the Powers in her corner, salt might well be the only thing that could hope to keep her alive.
The circle of salt would not protect her if she had a stake in hand. Salt required a tacit contract of pacifism. She could leave the book open and on the table beside her sacred circle, but she could not bring it into the circle itself. No, save for the clothing on her back and the ritualistic dagger needed for the sacrifice, nothing synthetic could enter the circle.
She thought it odd that she could hold a dagger but not a stake; she decided not to dwell on it.
She felt so alone here. In her watcher’s abandoned cottage, surrounded by the very symbols which had betrayed her. She’d stopped weeping if only out of exhaustion, her tears rubbing her skin raw. Her eyes ached at the thought of shedding more tears. If she paused, if she allowed reality to catch up with her, she was certain the rest of her would break.
He was gone. He was
gone. Resolution hardened her veins. She shook her head in defiance.
Nothing is ever set in stone. *~*~*
Sunnydale, California, 2007 There was something about the way his lips curled around his fangs which fascinated her. It was a small thing, practically indiscernible, and perhaps it had nothing to do with the aforementioned curling at all and everything to do with what those lips did to her at night. Buffy didn’t know. The only thing she knew was the next move would be sadly predictable, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t avoid falling into the inevitable trap.
Spike knew this, of course, and he used it to his full benefit. He knew what the slightest look did to her. He knew how to make her squirm without so much as batting an eye.
“Ready for me?” he growled, his eyes flashing.
The problem with trying to answer a vampire was the fact that they very rarely played by the rules. This was another thing Buffy knew…and well. Thus, as her mind raced to come up with the perfect retort—a combination of wit and pun, as was her trademark—she found herself inexplicably tackled to the ground.
“That’s three for three, Slayer,” Spike purred, his hands closing around her wrists as his yellow eyes flashed triumphantly into hers. “You sure you’re playin’ with a full stack?”
“My stack,” she hissed, her hips bucking upward as by their own accord, “is plenty full.”
“Mmm.” His eyes wandered over her covetously. “I’ll say.”
Buffy put up a futile struggle. Well, not really a struggle. If she truly struggled, she could toss him off in a blink. Maybe. Spike never disclosed how much of her strength into which he could tap through the claim—and aside from a few averted apocalypses and other impending disasters, there hadn’t been a need.
She kept telling him to come at her full strength when they sparred, and he swore he never held back.
The tell in his eyes spoke differently. It always had.
A fond memory tickled her mind, and she fought off a grin.
Always. “You ready to call it in, love?” he asked, running his tongue down the length of one fang. If possible, the gesture made him look even sexier, which was something of which she was certain he was aware.
Buffy smirked and flexed against the padded floor. They would soon need to get new padding, she absently noted. The stuff they bought was often too flimsy—either that, or they were too hard on the rec room. Granted, the answer wasn’t exactly a mystery, but she liked to think they weren’t
too horribly rough on their things.
“We’ve only gone three rounds,” she retorted. “Sorry. I don’t think so.”
Spike winked. “I love it when you’re feisty.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Then again,” he added, kissing her nose, “when it comes to you, I love everythin’.”
“You’re not charming your way out of going another round.”
He grinned. “Oh, I’m
up for goin’ a round…or ten.”
“A round of—”
“Glorious shagging?”
She flushed. “We’re sparring. And I seem to remember promising a certain someone I’d mop the floor with his admittedly scrumptious ass for not letting me take out the Burloch demon last night.”
Spike offered an unapologetic shrug. “To be fair, I called it.”
“You big liar!”
“Am not. What do you call loppin’ its head off?”
“Taking my kill,” she retorted, pouting.
“You say potato. Anyway…how d’you fancy you’re gonna get up, though, eh? Big Bad here…got you all nice an’ trapped.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Oh, I dunno…” Her voice trailed off and lured him right into a headbutt. She was free in an instant, rolling to her feet and assuming position as Spike managed to climb upward, pressing his palm against his brow and glaring at her as though she’d kicked his favorite puppy.
“That actually hurt!”
Oh no. She wasn’t falling for the fake guilt-trip. Not again. It won her over too easily, and she’d been duped more times than she wanted to admit.
It was silly, really. Spike loved pain—this kind of pain, as it were. They both did.
After all, this was foreplay.
“If that hurt, I can’t imagine how this is gonna feel.”
Buffy took off for him and dove in a forward-flip, her hands bracing the rubber-matted floor as her thighs closed around his neck. The tactic worked beautifully—sending them both to the ground, and trapping him snuggly between her legs.
“That was too easy,” she giggled.
He had the decency to look like it might have hurt—or, had he not been a vampire, that oxygen might have been an issue. That was, of course, until he quirked a brow and said, “Uh huh,” and utilized the obvious advantage of his position to nuzzle the warm and increasingly wet apex of her thighs. “You smell all nice.”
“Spike, we’re not—”
“I am.”
Buffy frowned and wiggled, but he was gripping her hips and tugging her forward before she could stop him. “This…I’m trying to fight you here!”
“I know. An’ it’s making you very wet, you naughty girl.” He chuckled and tongued her through the cotton of her very thin sweatpants. “Why don’ you jus’ admit you’ve been outdone by the Big—”
“Stop calling yourself that! It’s totally lame!”
“Riles you up good an’ proper…makes you nice an’ gooey.”
Her struggles became more pronounced and even more futile. His hold on her was insurmountable. “Spike—”
“Oh
yeah—” “William!” “That’s just hot.” He winked at her. “You wanna do this here or head back to our room? ‘Cause once we start—”
Buffy pouted and glanced down, which proved to be a major mistake, as his sparkling eyes had faded back to blue, and no matter how hot the demon got her, there was something so precious, so irreplaceable about this—something she knew but couldn’t name. “I was under the impression that we were sparring,” she said, her voice dropping to a pout.
“You can say that as much as you like, pet, ‘m not gonna cave.”
“You’re not the easiest person to love sometimes,” she said, feigning a hard sigh to cover how quickly her resistance was crumbling. Not that it did any good. Not that it
ever did.
“’m challenging,” he countered. “An’ for the last time, we
were sparring. We’re not now. I won. Gimme my prize.”
“You get a prize?”
“’Course. I get
you,” Spike replied, brushing a sweet kiss against her clothed inner thigh. “Won you fair an’ square, I did. An’ I have you all the time.”
“Some could argue that
I won
you fair and square,” she pointed out. Her observation went unnoted.
“Right now, I wanna have you on your back with your legs in the air. But since I’m in a giving mood, I’ll let you decide whether or not we race each other to the room or have at it right here.”
Buffy quirked a brow. “Giving mood, huh?”
He shrugged. How he managed to shrug—how he managed to bark orders at her while he was on the floor with her straddling his face—was completely beyond her. “Y’know me,” he said. “’m a giver. So how ‘bout it? Myself…I’d like to watch the sun rise.”
Heat flooded her face. It was amazing—nearly a decade later and she could still blush over the artistic sexcapades that had occurred after they painted the mural on their wall. But then, for the way his eyes softened as he took in her blush, she knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. Wouldn’t have
her any other way.
He liked it when she blushed.
Just as she enjoyed watching the sunlight spread across their painted wall. It was something she never took for granted. Ever. Every morning awaking with him was a gift. A blessing. Something she’d fought to earn, but cheated to keep.
Something she would never give up.
“I let you win,” she informed him.
Spike grinned and released her immediately. “Believe what you like. I still get the prize.”
“That’s debatable.”
And then he was on his feet, grabbing her hand and tugging her out of their rec room and down the hall.
Into the room which was theirs. In the home which was theirs.
This life which was theirs.
It might have taken generations to make it, but made it they had. Even with the knowledge that for all that had passed, there was so much more ahead. The future didn’t scare her. Nothing did anymore.
The future, after all, was just another sunrise.
fin
Closing Notes: This story was a response to the “Art Before Fic Challenge” at
Spuffy Haven. The guidelines were as follows:
Characters: Buffy, Spike
Rating: R - NC-17
Season/Episode: Season 2 Halloween and Beyond
Must Have:
1) Buffy, originally born in 1700s, casts a spell* to follow dead lover ended up in modern California and doesn't remember her old life until the Halloween incident.
2) Implied or actual Spuffy lovemaking.
3)
Can Have:
1) Buffy may have known Angelus.
2) Scooby or Giles concern and interference.
3) Buffy willing to kill anyone vampire or otherwise who stands between her and Spike.
4) Yeah and extra but can't be helped. Spike may vamp Buffy.
Can’t Have:
1) Buffy knowing Spike in his William days or Spike reverting to William.**
2) Spike turning good and being Buffy's nice respectable boyfriend.***
3) The spell may go a bit wonky but nothing harmful to Spuffy as the couple gets closer.****
*I had Buffy cast a spell to summon Paimon—Paimon’s inclusion and the “deal” he struck with Buffy was entirely of my design, simply because I love a good excuse to research a demon, give him personality, and insert him into a story. But since she cast a spell to summon him, I feel this was in keeping with the guidelines.
** I mentioned this at the start of the story, but it bears repeating: one of the mods at Spuffy Haven gave me the “go” to interpret this stipulation as forbidding Buffy from knowing a
human William, especially since referring to a canon-Spike as “William” generally translates to a remark on his human-and-in-love-with-Cecily years. Since “William” in this story was always a vampire, just called William, it wasn’t breaking from the guidelines.
*** The scene in Chapter 33 where Spike steals a wallet was specifically designed to adhere to this stipulation.
**** The spell did indeed go wonky—and there was some angst up until the end—but there was nothing harmful to
Spuffy as they got closer. Buffy was in danger, yes, but Spuffy (in my mind, the relationship) was peachy with a side of keen.
I do take some liberties in these interpretations, but the larger ones were discussed/OK’d by one of the mods, who said creative interpretation was welcome as long as I don’t pull anything too radical out of my bag o’ tricks.
Since this is the last time I can thank everyone for helping me out with this story, I might as well make good use of it. My endless,
endless, thanks to
megan_peta and
angelic_amy for forcing persuading me to rejoin
Spuffy Haven with the sole purpose of signing up for the ficathon. I loved the guidelines to this story, I loved creating a plot around said guidelines, and I loved, loved,
loved writing this. So yes…I owe you both a big one.
More thanks to
megan_peta,
dusty273,
elizabuffy,
spikeslovebite, and
yutamiyu for betaing this story; for their criticisms, comments, enthusiasm, and suggestions.
Thanks to
m_ravensblood for creating the wonderful banner, the icons, and giving me the story guidelines.
And of course, once again, thanks SO MUCH to all my readers. You all made writing this so much fun. Thank you. =)