147

(Chapter 2)

 
 AUTHOR: Taramisu
 WRITTEN: 6/03
 E-MAIL: taramisu1@yahoo.com
 SUMMARY: Taramisu's Official Post-Chosen Fic
 RATING: R
AUTHOR NOTES: Thank you to my sterling beta, Jac.  Without her, I suck. 

“Dawn!  Duck!”  Responding instinctively to the urgency in her sister’s voice, Dawn did just that, managing to miss a head injury by mere milliseconds.  From her crouched position, she saw a flash of Buffy leg sprint by as her elder sister chased the offending beast.

The Slayer breathed heavily, sweat droplets flying from her tousled hair, and gave the creature a dirty look.  “If I had known you’d be this much trouble, I’d have gotten some help.”

Buffy’s sister quickly rose, yelling and pointing.  “There it is!  There it is!  Get it!”  Dawn’s shrieking and jumping up and down scared the evasive creature from the spot where it had perched and it flew back toward her head.  She let out a squeal and dove for the ground.  “Eeek!”

Buffy mentally centered herself in an attempt to muster the power needed for this most important of battles.  She hadn’t been this challenged since she fought The First Evil back in Sunnydale.

She took off at Slayer speed, brandishing her weapon of choice like a message of doom for her opponent.  Suddenly, the disgusting thing found itself trapped under the weight of said weapon, and it flapped its mighty wings in a futile attempt at escape.

“Got it!”  Buffy exclaimed with pride.  She stood holding the edges of the sheet closed and blew a lock of hair out of her eyes.

“Is it…it’s really a bat?”

“Yeah.  I hear there are a lot of these here.  All stirred up by the construction.  Nowhere to go.”

“You’re sounding all sympathetic.  I don’t want to feel sorry for the thing.  I just want it out.  Get it out, get it out, get it out!”

“Chill, girl.”  Buffy the vampire bat Slayer hefted the writhing package over her shoulder and proceeded to bring it outside.

Dawn shuddered as she said, “It could have gotten in my hair.  Ewww!”

Just then, a male voice startled her.  “Hey, Dawny!”

Still skittish from the recent bat battle, she jerked a bit, then looked behind her to see Xander in the doorway.  “Oh, it’s only you.”

“Well, thanks for the warm welcome!”

“I’m sorry.  It’s just that we had to capture this big, ugly flying rat and it was trying to dive bomb my head.  We never had those in Sunnydale.”

He let out a deep chuckle at the thought of Dawn scared of a little rodent.  She could face an evil god trying to kill her, or a singing demon kidnapping her to be his bride, but this little creature undid her.

Just then, Buffy reentered through the back door.  “You won’t believe what just happened, Xan.  It was terrible!”

“Where’s my sheet?”  Dawn asked, her hands on her hips.

“Your sheet?”  Buffy looked at Dawn as if she had sprouted another head or two.  “Yeah.  Like I’m ever bringing that thing back in this house.”

Xander giggled, then spread his arms out before the women.  “Ladies and gentlemen, my brave Slayer and her mystical sister…scared of a little bat.”

This earned him two Evil-Eyes and a smack on the shoulder.

“Ow!”

“Oh, what a big, tough construction worker you are, Xander,” Buffy said with a put-on Southern belle accent.

Now that they had matched each other, insult for insult, they retired to the kitchen, the first place Xander always invaded.  He went straight to the first cabinet on the left and grabbed himself a bag of Doritos.

“So.  {crunch}  I can’t believe things are so quiet here.  {gulp}  I mean, {crunch} Faith’s got her hands full in Cleveland.  But we really lucked out, eh?  This is how {swallow} all the normal people live.  {crunch}”  He smiled through his mouthful.

“Yeah.  Lucky.”  Xander and Dawn both missed the sarcasm in Buffy’s voice.

“Oh!  Hey!  I have a date with Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome.”  Dawn’s grin consumed her entire face, so much so that Buffy wondered if her cheeks would cramp up.

Xander paused from inhaling chips for a moment.  “Hmm.  Does he have a pulse?”

Dawn huffed and rolled her eyes.  “Yeeeessss.”

“Are you sure?  I mean, did you check?”

“Shut up, Xander.”

“No, really.  Have you seen him in the sunlight?  Does he have family?  Is he from around here?  Does he get more than a 5-o’clock shadow by noon during the full moon?  How about…”

Both women stared at him intensely with their hands on their hips.  At that, he threw his hands up and surrendered the line of questioning.  “Okay.  Sorry.  Just trying to help.  After all, I have a lot of experience with dating demons, and…”

It was almost unperceivable, the change in Buffy’s demeanor, but Xander caught it.  He had plenty of experience in the last couple of months learning to identify and predict her ever-changing moods.  And suddenly, he caught the meaning of what he had just said.  He should have known better than to bring up their soft spot while trying to carry on a regular conversation.  ‘Stupid Xander!’ he chastised himself.

Thankfully, Dawn was just leaving.  “Well, gotta go guys!  Can’t keep Kevin waiting.”  And just like that, she grabbed her purse and pranced out the front door, taking the previous cheerful mood with her.

Buffy and Xander were left standing at the counter, their grief already bubbling up to the surface.  He reached out and gently led her to the couch.  And, as usual, she let him.  That couch was no stranger to long nights of their commiserating with each other.  They both had serious wounds to heal, and they each attempted their best to help the other along when necessary.

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

They sat down heavily, and Xander sighed.  “I’m sorry to ruin such a nice mood.  You and the bat and that sheet.  I bet you were a real sight, chasing it around like a little girl.”

She knew he was trying to recapture the moment, but she also knew that it wouldn’t work.  “It’s okay, Xan.  The mood wouldn’t have lasted long anyhow.”

“I know what you mean.  I think about Anya all the time, and any good moods are history within minutes.  I see her face in a strange woman passing by.  Sometimes, one of the guys at the site says something so Anya.  It’s so hard to move on when I feel like she’s following me, you know?”

“Yeah.  Being the one left behind sucks.”

Xander looked at her with a knowing smirk.  “Tell me about it.”

She blushed, then decided to change the subject.  “So, how are the dreams?  Still real bad?”

“Yeah.”  He took a second to draw in a deep breath and calm the deluge of emotion waiting to flow forth.  “She’s stopped blaming me in the dreams.  That’s something.”

“You know it’s not your f…”

He interrupted her with a hand on her knee.  “I know.  You do a good job of reminding me of that.”  Xander looked into her eyes and smiled weakly.  Buffy placed her hand on his and sighed.  “And you?  You taking your pills like a good girl?”

“Yes, mother.  But they make me all sleepy.  I hate sleeping so much.”

“Still dreaming, huh?  Are yours getting any better?”

This inevitably brought forth her tears. It never took long with this new Buffy.  Her happiness, grief, joy,  and pain always bubbled right under the surface – unlike the old Buffy, who kept her emotions locked tightly in her heart.

“Worse.  Last night…” She had to pause.  “…he was in a cage at the zoo.  He was standing behind the bars, holding them and pleading with me not to walk away.  He said…he said…” Her tears began to flow freely. Xander gathered her into his arms and let her cry into his shirt.  As he stroked her hair, she found the strength to continue.  “’I won’t leave you alone.  I’ll come back for you.’  But, he won’t, Xander.  He’s never coming back.”

He began to rock them back and forth.  Somehow the motion soothed her as it would a newborn baby.  “I don’t want to be lonely anymore, Xander.  I don’t think I can do this.”

He pushed her away just enough to look into her sweet face.  “Now, you know you’ll never be alone.  You’ve got Dawny and me.  And don’t forget Willow and Kenneth.”

She halfheartedly swatted his chest.  “It’s Kennedy, and you know it.  Just because she’s a little…doesn’t mean they aren’t good for each other.”

“And, hey!  What about all those girls in your classes?  You study with them all the time!”

“Only to keep my mind off of patrol.”

Xander scrunched his eyebrows together, confused.  “You don’t patrol anymore.”

“Yes, I know.”

He stared at her for several moments, not comprehending.  “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t patrol.  I don’t slay.  I don’t rescue.  I don’t research demons.  I don’t even see demons anymore.”

“But, I thought that was of the good.  No?”

She seemed to not even hear him.  “I don’t protect.  I don’t plan.  I don’t spend Friday nights in Scooby meetings.  I don’t…I don’t matter anymore.  The world doesn’t even know I’m here.”

This time, she cried into the sofa cushion – letting the pillow silence her sobbing. 

“B-Buffy?  What…what are you saying?  Of course the world knows you’re here.  What would I do without you?”

Now he was crying as well and he reached out to grab her hand, as if to keep her on this plane.

Buffy’s voice was muffled by the cushion.  “I…I once thought I wanted a normal life.  I fought so long to have it.  I thought this was all I wanted - to not be the only one in charge of protecting the world.  But now that I have my wish…well, I should have learned by now to be careful what you wish for.  I’m just another girl who just happens to know which end of a stake will kill a vampire.  It’s not good enough.”

“Stop it, Buffy.”

She sat up and turned to Xander, her eyes red and sad.  “I hate this.  I work all day, go to my classes, then come home to TV.  No one needs me, Xander.  No one knows how alone I am.”  She buried her head in his chest and wept some more.  Xander found himself stunned into silence, so he settled in to let his best friend cry herself out.

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

“So, who’s in?  Jacks are wild.  Two kitten ante.”

Spike took another drag on his cigarette, then tossed two tabbies onto the center of the table.  “I am,” he announced with an air of indifference.

His game-mates traded looks with each other.  There was something different with the ex-vampire tonight.  Something odd.  And rarely, if ever, did anything different happen where they were.  Silently, they had picked the Brachen demon to voice their concerns.  Doyle sighed, then steeled himself for the job at hand.

He stared at Spike through the billows of smoke.  “What’s up with you, man?”

Without looking up from the cards being dealt to him, Spike replied, “What are you on about, prickly face?”

Doyle smiled at the remark.  “What I’m ‘on’ about is you.  You’ve gone exactly three hours…”

The large, grey demon to Doyle’s left nudged him with a correction on his lips.  “Earth hours.  They’re Earth hours, dude.”

Doyle’s turned his head slowly toward Peter, scowled at him, then looked back at his original subject.  “Like I was saying, you’ve gone exactly three hours without mentioning that bird of yours once.  Not even a thinly veiled reference to her.”

Spike shrugged, then snatched up his cards and began to organize them thoughtfully.  “Your bet, baldy.”  Spike nodded toward the hairless creature to his right.  The play continued despite the conversation.

“You’re awfully quiet.  You haven’t eaten a single hot wing.  You haven’t even insulted Jack over there once.”

Spike finally raised his head, only to look at Jack, an ex-demon with twelve arms.  “Sorry, mate.  Let me give you a hand with that.”  He reached across the table and added one of Jack’s kitties to the kitty.

Doyle sighed in frustration.  “You know, I never realized it before, but when you get in a mood, you’re just like Angel.”

Spike snorted.  “You’re not gonna get me to talk that easily.  I am impervious to your Peaches references.”

Several celestial demons looked at each other with great smiles, then said in unison, “impervious”?  At that, they all burst into laughter, Spike included.

 “All right.  I guess I am off my game.”  He lifted a meowing kitten to the table.  “Call.”  A moment later, he continued.  “It’s these dreams I’ve been having.  They’re so…vivid.  Really vivid.”

“Dreams?”  They all asked.  Doyle piped in, “But we don’t’ dream up here, buddy.  That’s not part of the package.”

“Really?”  Now he was confused.  If anyone knew what he was talking about, it was Doyle.

“Really.  So, these ‘dreams’.  Let’s hear about ‘em.”

Spike knew they were just trying to help, but no one here could possibly understand what he was dealing with.  He was adamant about not discussing the details.  It just felt too personal.  And he just knew that the stupid Brachen would never leave him alone until he buggered it out of him.  He stood from the table, gathering his kittens.

Peter objected.  “Hey!  You can’t just leave in the middle of a hand!”  Doyle’s hand on his shoulder calmed him down.

“See you fellas later.”

---

As he made his way to the one person he felt he could confide in, Spike replayed the dream in his mind.

A slight girl lay face down, weeping on a bed, amidst unfamiliar linens and furnishings.  As he approached, he became acutely aware that the cries were those of his beloved Buffy’s.  His hand reached out to touch her and, upon sensing his presence, she sat up and turned to him.  Her face, red and aged by grief, sported an expression of surprise.

“Spike!?  Don’t leave me.  Never leave me!”

He leaned forward to gather her into his arms, but her body dissolved into mist, then disappeared.

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

She leaned backward, and out of his arms, her cries having finally subsided.  Xander glanced down to find her green eyes staring back at him.

“Feel better?”  His smile was so soft, and warm, and genuine, and soft, and wouldn’t it feel so damn good to have those lips on hers?  To kiss and feel the passion that she used to feel for…

But before she had any more time to contemplate kissing him, his lips were on hers, gently sucking.  Then she felt his hands caressing her back, rubbing oh so delightfully.  He was so warm.  Her loneliness found itself pushed to some far corner of her psyche, while her tongue found itself in Xander’s welcoming mouth.  All the while, she wondered how something so wrong could feel so right.  Was she using him?  Was he using her?  And, suddenly, none of that mattered once his wonderful hand found its way under her bra and onto her breast.

Upon hearing Buffy’s throaty moan, Xander became hard instantly.  She started unzipping his pants while he yanked her blouse off and cast it aside.  Before they knew it, they were both naked and clawing at each other as if the world were about to end and this was to be their last human contact ever.  Suddenly, skin meeting skin wasn’t close enough for either of them and Buffy grabbed his erection and guided it to her entry.  The next was a moment of pure bliss as she imagined her vampire slipping into her effortlessly.  They stilled momentarily, each savoring the wonderful feeling and forgetting, for a time, what terrible sadness and loss had brought them to this place.

Finally, Xander began moving inside Buffy.  Both of them kept their eyes shut tightly, lest they remember exactly what was happening with their best friend.  Images of a naked Anya flowed through Xander’s head as he admitted to himself how very much he loved her and always had.  He pictured her riding him, her body arched backward and her brown hair tickling his knees.  She laughed heartily and begged for more, all the while expressing her undying love and devotion.  He thrusted inside his never-to-be bride over and over again until he felt the familiar tension rise and he spilled his soul into her.  Just at that moment, she called out, “Spike!”

This startled him from his delusion and he pulled himself out of and away from the gasping girl before him.  He looked into her face and saw her crying again, only this was different than earlier.  She appeared shocked and guilty.  Buffy grabbed the closest piece of clothing and covered herself while Xander looked on in alarm.  What had they just done?

“Oh, God.  I’m…oh God.”  Buffy searched the room in a panic.  What she was looking for, Xander had no idea.  He just sat there with a not-so-bright expression on his face, unable to figure out how the hell this had happened.

“I have to…this was bad.  Very bad.”  Buffy babbled to a dumb-struck Xander.  “Please don’t hate me, Xander.  Please.”  At that, she ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.  The sound of her cries followed shortly after, echoing through the little room.

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

Spike found his mother lounging in a large Lazy-Boy, knitting some sort of brightly colored garment, and whistling a happy tune.  She looked up momentarily to acknowledge his presence, then continued with her work.  “Hello, William.”

Spike dipped his head once.  “Mother.”  He stared at the ugly thing in her hands.  What was she knitting anyhow?  Some sort of scarf for a color-blind Muppet?  God, it was awful!

“It passes the time.  Gives me peace.”

Her answer to his mind’s meanderings surprised him.  “You heard that?”  He tilted his head and regarded her with curiosity.

“Of course, I did, silly boy.  We can all hear the ones with whom we share love.  That’s part of what makes this Heaven, you know.”

She had said the “H” word.  And not the short one ending in double hockey sticks, either.  Spike’s eyes grew exponentially with his awe as the reality of the situation sunk in.  Sure, he should have realized earlier, but the smoking, the gambling, the…other…things.  It didn’t fit his preconceptions of Heaven at all.

“What?  You thought this was Hell?  Didn’t I teach you better than that, William?  Or did you forget your Sunday school lessons?”  Her voice was stern, but her face gave away her amusement at her son’s reaction.

“I…I had no idea.  I mean, I’ve done some pretty horrific things, and I just figured that this was somewhere else…” He stammered then paused as his weak knees forced him to take a seat at his mother’s feet.

“William.  See yourself through my eyes.”  Anne put aside her knitting and began to stroke his hair.  “You were everything to me back when we were alive.  After Father died, and your sisters, well, you were the one thing that gave me joy.”

“But, Mother…” he turned to look at her, unsatisfied with where he felt this conversation was headed.

“Don’t interrupt your mother while she’s speaking.”  The woman gently turned his head to face front again and continued her caressing.  “Then, along came something unspeakable, that should have killed my son.  But it didn’t.  You were still there.  The gentle, passionate boy that I had nurtured for over a score remained.  Certainly, you did things that can never be forgiven…” Spike winced at that, but remained silent, allowing her to continue.  “…but you managed to overcome the thing that had stolen your body.  You tried to make yourself a man.  And, not only did you succeed, but you sacrificed your life to save the world.  Now, how many Mums can say that about their boys?  Hmm?  Surely not the Underwoods, or those dreadful Addamses.”

He had to chuckle at that.  She was always so proud of him – even for the little things.

“So, yes, ‘Spike’.  You are in Heaven.”

She craned her head to see his face, which was becoming a tad moist from tears.  “Now, what was it you came to see me about?”

It took him a minute to compose himself.  That was just like her, though, to give an impassioned speech, then continue on with some mundane thing.

“Well, I’ve been having these dreams.”

“We don’t dream here.”

“So I hear.  But I do.”

Anne’s face became firm as she tried to figure out what it was that William might misconstrue as dreams.  It did not take long for her to formulate a theory.

“Are these dreams about your beloved?”

He blushed.  “You mean, Buffy?”

“Of course, I mean Buffy, you nit.”  She had apparently taken on a bit more sarcasm since she was alive.

“Um, yes.  She pleads with me to not leave her.”  Spike gazed into his mother’s face, hopeful that she would be able to shed some light on the situation.

“I see.  I think, perhaps, you are hearing her prayers.”

He had to scoff at that.  The rude sound he made earned him a swat on the back of his head.  “But, Buffy?  She’s really not the type to pray.  I’ve known the girl for 6 years.  There is no praying…”

“There are prayers to those other than God, you know.”  He looked at her, confused.  “When she talks to you, you can hear her.  Just like I can hear your thoughts.  You two are bonded by love.”

He made the rude sound again.  “You don’t know much about her if you think that, Mother.  The Slayer isn’t bonded to anyone but her mission.”

“For such an intelligent young man, you certainly are stupid.”

“What?!”

“The girl loves you, dear.  She even told you as much.”

Spike stood, suddenly needing something to do with himself during this conversation.  “Yeah, but…that was…that was just something she felt she needed to say.  It was a lie.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

He scoffed at her.  “Yes!”

“Then why don’t you go ask her yourself if you doubt it so much?”  The woman had a grand smile on her face.

At that, he let go an uproarious laugh.  “Oh, that’s rich!  What, shall I beam down to her house, knock on the front door and ask her, ‘Hi, Buffy!  I know I’m dead, and this visit is unexpected, but can you just answer a little question for me?  It’s to settle an argument between my mother and me.’”

Anne did not look amused.  “You mean to tell me that you don’t know about your gift?”  Her face filled with awe.

“Don’t know what?  What gift?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Know, what, Mother?!”

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

Chapter 3