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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. When the story is finished, I will
post it on my website at http://www.geocities.com/kallysten_fr/
Feedback : Anything but flames kallysten_fr@yahoo.com
Story notes : This is a sequel to my story His Childe. If you haven't read it,
I strongly suggest you stop right here and go read it first, some things in
here will make more sense if you do.
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If she hadn’t known Spike any better, Buffy might have felt threatened by the way Manon looked at him. But as it was, she doubted he even realized the girl had a crush on him. She walked out of the house just as Manon was coming in, and she gave the kid a warm smile, telling her she could use the phone in the dining room where it was quieter. She had been standing by the kitchen door for a little while, long enough to hear Manon’s fear and Spike’s reassurances. She had not intervened simply because she wouldn’t have known what to tell the younger Slayer. She had been in her place, more than once, and she still was now. In her experience, only the beginning of the fight would obliterate all fear. She was glad, though, that Spike seemed to have found the words Manon needed to hear. She sat down next to him, leaning against his shoulder.
“Should I be jealous that you’ll be watching someone else’s back?” she teased gently.
“Didn’t say I wouldn’t watch yours too, luv,” was his cocky reply. “And ‘still have Nibblet to keep an eye on.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she sighed softly when his thumb sneaked under her shirt and started tracing soft circles on her skin.
“You just have two eyes,” she said after an instant, trying not to sound too worried. “And you’ll be busy fighting for yourself. Don’t try to do too much at once, you’re not immortal anymore.”
“Don’t I know it,” he muttered under his breath, before adding, louder: “I’ll be fine, luv. Don’t worry and just take care of yourself for me.”
They remained out there for a while, silent and peaceful, enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence. Eventually, they had to get back in, say goodbye to the departing Scoobies, and transform the couch in a pitiful excuse of a bed for Faith. Then they were back at last in their room, under their very own sky, and Buffy only wished that the intensity of their lovemaking wasn’t giving her the feeling that it might be their last night together.
* * * * *
To his own surprise, Spike had a peaceful, quiet night. Or rather, peaceful and quiet once Buffy and he fell asleep, both of them exhausted. One useful thing he had kept with his vampire strength was his stamina, and his Slayer had never had problems on that side either…
Humans or vampires, the fireworks were still amazing. And yet, he missed the bites, missed that sense of closeness, so intense, so raw, so perfect, of blood flowing between him and his Childe. Missed that little light in his mind that he had felt too briefly, and the comforting knowledge that she was his Mate. Fiancée, soon wife, it was nice, but at the same time so little after what she had been to him.
As she rested, spooned in his arms, her back snuggly against his chest, he could see in the faint light coming from outside his last marks on the side of her neck. A bittersweet vision that reminded him all at once of what they had shared and what they had lost. He wondered whether she missed any of it, whether, at times, she surprised herself wishing she was still a vamp, his Mate, his Childe. But he wouldn’t ask her. He didn’t need to. She hadn’t wanted to be turned in the first place, and her happiness at becoming human again had been complete until he had ruined it. He had tried to make it up to her with their little picnic. For himself, it had been a moment of near perfect bliss, spoiled only by faint whispers in his mind. He thought, he hoped, it had been perfect for her. She had been radiant ever since, almost glowing with an inner light. But then, to his eyes, she always was. Even in her sleep, she wore the contented smile he loved so much to think he had caused.
Very lightly, he brushed his lips against her neck, and she stirred in his embrace, turning around until her head was tucked under his chin, one arm trapped between them, hand resting on his chest, the other at his waist. She was at least partially awake and drawing light patterns on his skin, just like he was doing on her back. Marking each other, maybe, with protection spells known only to lovers. Or imprinting in the other’s flesh words of love in long forgotten languages. They didn’t talk. Didn’t move. They didn’t need to do either. All they needed right now was the other, and the quiet awareness of their love and strength.
And yet, after a short eternity, it was time to leave the warmth of the bed and of each other’s arms. Faint noises from the bathroom and the kitchen, the household was waking up and getting ready for the day. For the fight. For the apocalypse.
They showered together, lathering each other in careful tender touches that were meant to show love, not to arouse. They each dressed without consulting the other, but as they were done they shared a quiet laugh when they realized they both were wearing black jeans, shirts and t-shirts. After all, that was their semi official slaying attire. Black had the advantage not to make bloodstains so obvious. And blood would be shed today.
Spike had slicked his hair back, which he hadn’t been doing very often for the last couple of weeks. He should have had it cut; the curly locks didn’t go well with the fighter’s image. Too late now. Buffy’s blondness was threaded in a thick braid that reminded him a little of another Slayer, long ago. Yet her voice didn’t come and scream at him when he thought of her.
They went down to the kitchen hand in hand like the teenagers they hadn’t been for a long time and joined Giles and Steven at the kitchen island for a solid breakfast. Quickly, Faith then Dawn were there too. The island was a bit crowded, but, at the same time, comfortable. There was little talk. The previous day had been devoted to freeing their minds from the upcoming fight, but now it was all that occupied their thoughts, he guessed. At least, that was all he could think about. Years before, right before a battle of the same importance, Buffy had told him words that retrospectively had been so meaningful.
We're not all gonna make it.
As he watched the people around him, and thought of the ones they would join later, Spike couldn’t help but wonder whether they would all survive the ordeal this time, or if, again, they would have to mourn a fallen fighter. He had promised, long ago, to protect Dawn until the end of the world. He had said, the night before, he would keep Manon safe, a promise in his mind even if he hadn’t actually said the words. And then his lover. He wouldn’t be able to bear losing Buffy again, especially not now that he had her love, that she was the only reason he was still mostly sane. All he could do was pray the Powers he didn’t believe in but who had so much fun messing with his life that they would be alright. All of them, all of the Scoobies and their allies. Yet at no moment did he think of praying for himself.
* * * * *
The Prophecy had said the portal would open at noon, but it appeared someone, somewhere, needed to get a watch, because Sunnydale High imploded at precisely 11:43:59 a.m.
Thankfully, the school had already been deserted by the few people who worked there during the summer. Xander had called them, supposedly on behalf of his construction company, to inform them that gas leaks had been detected and that they needed to leave while a crew worked on the problem. The crew consisted of precisely one worker, but they left before they could realize that. Xander dutifully rolled out yellow construction ribbon all around the building to prevent anyone from accessing it. By that time, it was only 10 am, but all the gang and its associates were there already, waiting in case the portals opened early, weapons and spells ready. Each of them wore around their neck a pendant engraved on both sides with magical symbols. Some of them were part of a protective spell; others were the key to entering or exiting the shield dome. Said dome went up exactly 46 seconds after the school blew up, before anything had come out of the rubble yet, the first magic done on that day by Willow and Tara, but not the last. It prevented anything from getting out, or anyone from getting in without the bewitched pendants. The dome also gave to anyone outside the image of a perfectly normal school building, so that no one would get too curious if they passed by.
All together, they strode in, some carrying axes, swords and daggers, others armed with various herbs and powders. Once inside, they separated in two groups. Giles, Tara, Willow and Andrea found a place by the edge of the dome, since they only needed to be in sight of the portal and Hellmouth, not directly next to them. They sat in a circle around Dawn, two of them touching each of her hands, and immediately started reciting the incantations they had been practicing for the last few days. Halfway between them and the two open entrances, Steven stood, a sword in each hand, ready to slay anything that remotely looked like it was going anywhere near his girl. The other fighters were disseminated all around the gaping holes, one in the ground, one in the air right above it. Buffy was on Steven’s left, then farther were Spike, Manon, Faith and Angel, who was on Steven’s right. They were in place less than a minute after they had entered the bubble, all of them focused, waiting for their opponents to appear. They didn’t have to wait long.
Just outside the shield, Xander and Anya waited anxiously among their provisions of food, water and medical supplies. Because of the illusion of the shield, they couldn’t see what was going on under the dome, and neither of them liked being outside of the fight like this. After waiting for a while, they were ready to rush in and help however they could, except for a little detail. Willow had purposefully given neither of them a pendant, and therefore they couldn’t get in. All they could do was wait for someone to get out and tell them how the battle was turning out. So wait, they did.
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