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Kallysten
Disclaimer : Of course they belong to someone else, I just play with them sometimes.
Distribution : Sure, just tell me where.
Story notes : AU, set after As We Were and before Hell's Bells.
Warnings : Character Death, Bloodplay, NC-17 in future chapters
Feedback : Anything but flames kallysten_fr@yahoo.com As for most fanfic authors,
feedback motivates me to write faster... (hint, hint)
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If someone had asked her to describe the scene, she would have been able to find only one word.
Beautiful.
The sun was slowly sliding toward the horizon, toward the ocean, giving birth to a symphony of colors in it descent. Vaguely, it reminded her of a sunrise, the one she had seen from Glory’s tower before plunging to her death. It was fitting, since she was about to die. She understood why he was showing that to her. A simple thing, really, just a sunset. But the last she would ever see if he had his way.
When the sun had completely disappeared behind the water, her eyes returned to Spike. “I won’t let you turn me,” she said with as much force as she could manage to summon.
“I’m not asking your permission luv,” he replied gently. “It will be easier if you don’t fight, but if you do you’re no match against me. Not now.”
He moved to her side and his fingers brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She grabbed his hand between both of hers. “Spike please…”
He shook his head slightly, his eyes not leaving hers. “Come on, luv. You’re not the begging kind, we both know it.”
“Why ?” she whispered. “You say you love me. You know what I lost when Willow brought me back. And now you want to rob me of it again.”
Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. He reached with his free hand and dried them tenderly.
“I do love you, Buffy. More than anything. And don’t worry, you will go back to Heaven. Just not quite yet. Too many people need you here.”
“You mean you need me,” she accused. “That’s the most selfish thing you could ever do. The worst thing you could do to me !”
She let go of his hand, not wanting to touch him any longer. Unexpectedly, he produced a stake from behind his back. He seemed to examine it for a few seconds, then placed it on the bedside table. Just out of her reach.
“For after,” he said quietly. “As soon as you feel better, just grab it and stake me. I won’t fight back, I promise. But you will get better, luv. I promise that too.”
She understood, from the light in his eyes, that this was it. Her time was up. The Vampire Slayer was about to become a Vampire herself.
He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms. She tried to push away, but it was soon evident that she was too weak to escape him, even though he wasn’t holding her very tight. She stopped struggling. Her mind had given up, but her body was completely tense, as frozen. He felt it and started stroking her back in a soothing motion.
“Relax, luv. I’ll be as gentle as I can be. Can’t promise it won’t hurt, I would be lying. But if you let go, it can feel good too. Please. Trust me.”
The softness of his voice, more than the words themselves, lulled Buffy into a half sleep. Dimly, she felt his cool lips on her neck, pressing light kisses to her skin. He had kissed her like this before. She had not given him many opportunities, but when she had, he had shown a tender side she would never have suspected. Words came to her lips, however she didn’t know if she actually said them or only intended to. “I’m sorry… William.”
She had said that before, when she had broken up their relationship. But why was she sorry now ? He was the one who was…
Biting.
The fangs broke her skin, hot knife sinking in butter, and she cried out in pain. Her hands clutched his back, a last bit of her strength returning just as life was leaving her. She could feel her heart beating faster as his mouth sucked on her blood, so hard and yet so gentle at the same time. Images and sensations flashed through her mind.
The Master. Pain. Fear. Despair.
Angel. Fear, for his life, not hers. Anger. Pain and pleasure mixed. It had been a violent experience, but also, something she barely admitted to herself, a very erotic one.
Dracula. Eroticism again, but caused by the thrall. No fear. No excitement. No feelings.
And now Spike. She wasn’t afraid. She had never been afraid of him. The pain was gone, replaced by the pleasure he had promised. For the first time since the headaches had started, she was free of pain. And for the first time since she had broken up with him, she felt… loved.
Her brain screamed that he was killing her. Her heart replied that this was the most loving thing she had shared with him. With anyone. She had the sudden urge to tell him. Let him know that she felt it, felt his love in that act of death. His name passed her lips, barely a whisper.
Why was it so hard to talk ? So hard to move ? So hard to… think ?
As oblivion took hold of her, she was only aware that his lips had left her skin, and she wanted to weep at the loss.
* * * * *
Buffy stopped struggling, but her body was a rock in his arms. He started rubbing her back, trying to comfort her.
“Relax, luv. I’ll be as gentle as I can be. Can’t promise it won’t hurt, I would be lying. But if you let go, it can feel good too. Please. Trust me.”
She seemed to hear his plea, and relaxed against him, just a little, not enough yet. He rained kissed on her neck, against old bites scars. He wasn’t too sure who had bitten her before, and he didn’t want to know, not really. Whoever they were, they were the past. He was here. Now.
He barely heard her talk, and it took a second to his brain to make sense of the single word loud enough to recognize. His name. His old, human name. Was it a call to his human side ? She had called him that, before, the second time he had lost her. But he wouldn’t lose her again.
He slipped into game face and sunk his fangs into her paper-thin skin. He winced at the pain in her cry, but started drawing on the blood, all his senses focused on her.
Strangely, no fear was coming from her, neither in her scent nor in her blood. The barest touch of arousal. But, mostly, a sense of acceptance. Was it death she was accepting, or his gift ?
Her heart, which had been pumping so furiously, began to slow down. He heard her say his name again. Spike, this time. Just before the beating stopped, he pulled away from her neck. Carefully, he laid his body against hers, and cradled her head in the crook oh his arm. He bit his free wrist and pressed it to her half open mouth.
* * * * *
He watched her a long time, pale and immobile. It reminded him of the last time he had seen her lifeless. He had cried then. He felt very much like crying now. But it wasn’t the right time to turn into a bloody poof.
Before doing anything, he drained two of the blood bags he had brought. They were cold and tasteless. He doubted anything would ever taste the same after sampling her blood. Still, he needed to feed. He had given back all that he had taken from her. He didn’t want to just make her a vampire, he wanted her to be a strong vampire, just like she had been a strong human. Under other circumstances, that would have meant he wanted her as his Childe. Wanted to train her, instruct her, be her mate. But that couldn’t be. She was going to be a vampire with a Slayer soul. And now he had to make sure she would indeed get that soul.
He estimated that the change was advanced far enough. No way to know for sure, it was different for everyone. Still, with the large quantity of blood he had given her, she probably would awaken quickly. He dialed the number of the Summers’ house, but the person who answered wasn’t the one he expected.
“SPIKE ! What in Hell do you think you’re doing ?”
“Shut up Peaches and let me talk to Red.”
“Are you insane ? What…”
Annoyed, Spike hung up. He took a few minutes to smoke a cigarette, then dialed the number again. This time, the Witch answered.
“Ready to cast your spell ?”
“As ready as I can be considering the ultimatum you gave me.”
“As long as you’re prepared, it’s enough. Just do it now so she’ll have her soul when she wakes. Bye.”
“Wait.”
“What ?”
“Tell her there’s no loophole in her soul, ok ?”
“…”
“Spike ? You heard me ?”
“Yes I heard. Did you give the poof a permanent soul yet ?”
“Uh… Not yet. But I will.”
“Just take care of Buffy first, girl.”
Sunrise was near. Not knowing when Buffy would wake, Spike closed the curtains again, effectively blocking out all light. Then he crawled in the bed next to her, taking off his shirt to be more comfortable. He held her still body to his. So cold. He had always marveled at how well she could warm his skin with her body heat, but not any more. As he left himself drift into sleep, a thought crossed his mind. This time, when she would wake, she wouldn’t have to claw her way out of a coffin.
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