Searching for Heaven

By PassionFish

Disclaimer

This page can be found at: https://www.angelfire.com/rebellion/morbiddesires/index.html

PART ONE

"Beginnings"

A thin, tired blonde wisp of a woman slowly pushed open the large iron gates to the cemetery. She walked, wood in hand, through the deserted graveyard. Deserted, that is, to the average untrained senses. The wind howled and with a sudden crash, cracked the heavens opened and allowed sheets of rain to cascade down upon the fallen warrior.

Buffy sighed and tried to hold her head up high as she attempted to complete her night’s patrol. This was the last of the 40 cemeteries that Sunnydale had to offer. Normally, she would have been done by now. Hours ago in fact. That was if she had been able to go without her weekly visit from her ex.

She didn't love him. That much she knew. She could never love Angelus. She missed her Angel. All she had was hope. But, as the face of her cherished lover spewed venomous words at her she found it hard to keep up that hope.

The slayer quickened her pace and shook her head in an attempt to keep out the memories of his most recent insults. Not just the insults, but the things he would tell her; about what him and Dru got up to, made her want to be sick. However, recently the knowledge of his latest fucktoys didn't give her quite as much grief. Maybe this meant she was moving on.

*Poor Spike.* She thought absently, remembering the love she'd seen from the blonde vampire to the dark vampiress.

Caught up in her thoughts Buffy didn't hear the near fledgling sneak up on her until it was too late. He quickly relieved her tired hands of her last stake and hurled her into a nearby gravestone, stunning her.

Through hazy eyes she watched as the young male looked evilly down at her before scooping up her stake. She tried to get up, but already exhausted from her fight with Angelus and various other vampires she found herself unable to move.

The grabbed the slayer by the lapels of her jacket, throwing her roughly against the size of a mausoleum. He twisted her arms and both heard a snap.

"Quite a fitting end don't you think?" He snarled.

He lifted up the stake and thrust it towards her heart. The irony was not appreciated. Only Buffy's instincts forced her weakened arms to hit feebly at the stake, allowing it to slam into her shoulder.

She cried out in pain and the nameless vamp grinned, pressing her further into the wall. Dazedly, Buffy thought, so this is how I go, huh? She watched him dive for her neck and winced.

She heard a loud growl and suddenly felt the weight move off her. She looked up in time to see the vampire's head being twisted clean off his body. With an agonised scream the demon dusted. When the dust cleared, Spike stepped forward.

"Hello cutie."

**

Buffy slunk back into the wall with a sigh. She watched, unable to muster any fear, as Spike moved forward, gently wrapping his arms around her waist. He lifted her up, leaning her still against the wall but her weight now entirely off her sore legs.

"What are you..." Buffy breathed.

"Shh, pet." Spike lifted her gently into his arms, mindful of her shoulder. His demon roared to be free at the scent of her blood, but he pushed it back.

They were closest to her house, he realised and began walking in that direction, "Is your mum at home, pet?"

"Away..." Was all she got out before she blacked out from the pain.

*

"Buffy...Buffy?"

"Spike?" Buffy's shocked eyes opened to meet that of her mortal enemy. She jolted in his arms but he shushed her.

"Its okay ducks, I need you to invite me in."

"What?"

"Love, invite me in so I can help you. You're not bleedin' too badly but you need to get bandaged up." His voice was so gentle, so endearing.

So trustworthy.

"Come in, Spike."

*

He lay her gently on her bed and absently brushed some of her hair from her eyes. He ignored the question in her eyes and instead set about careful unbuttoning her shirt. She gasped as he pulled it away from her body.

Spike inhaled sharply at her choice of underwear, or lack of.

"Back in a minute." He moved quickly out of the room, hunting for a first aid kit as he attempted to dull his arousal.

He returned a few minutes later, aid in hand and sat back down. Buffy watched through heavy lidded eyes as her mortal enemy cared for her wounds, only the occasional wince of displeasure escaping her lips when he pulled the bandages tight to seal the wound. His soft apologies for her pain made her head spin but nevertheless seemed to lessen the hurt in her arm.

She regarded him in silent consternation as he packed away the stuff, only finally then did she speak, "Thank you, Spike."

He looked up and allowed her a small smile, "Your welcome, pet." He looked down at his clothing and the deep red colour of slayer blood marring the black silk. "Would you mind if I used your shower - probably not best I return to the clan with slayer blood all over me, people might talk ya know!" He smiled slightly.

"Oh...uh...sure." He got up to leave and Buffy began attempting to undress herself. However, the problems with being badly injured in the arm meant that one was unable to dress and undress oneself.

Her voice stopped him at the door and he turned to find a blushing slayer, her shirt wide open, "Spike, could you...um, help me, please."

"Oh...sorry, yeah." Spike walked back to the slayer, where she now stood by the bed. His eyes nervously avoided hers as he stood in front of her. He reached forward, and with a tenderness she never knew he could possess, pulled away the shirt from her good arm. Moving behind her, Spike carefully pulled away the hanging shirt from her body, mindful of the smaller blood smeared cuts.

Buffy inhaled sharply as the shirt dropped to the ground, feeling her nipples pebble even more then they had from the cold as Spike's hand stayed on her waist. She closed her eyes as she felt a pair of cool lips press against the top of her shoulder, the top of her back, and up the side of her neck.

She jerked slightly as his cool hands slid around her waist, undoing the one button that held her wrap-around brown skirt together. It slid to the ground silent all but for the gasp of silk as it glided through the air.

A tear fell, unheeded, down her face. "Spike..." Her voice was barely heard in the silence, even to their perceptive hearing.

His hands rested loosely around her waist and she tilted her head as his lips continued to tease her neck. The coolness of his mouth was wonderful, driving away the red-hot pain the emanated from her wound.

She turned quickly to face him, but before he could kiss her she hissed at the pain her sharp movement had caused. Spike looked dazedly down at her for a few seconds before making his decision. He gently scooped her up in his arms, moving to the bed. He lay her down, pulling up the covers. He turned to go towards the window.

"Don't go." Buffy's voice, tight with tears halted him.

"I'm not." He returned quietly, he closed the curtains, attempting to keep out the coming daylight before moving back to the bed. He slid in beside her. There was a moment’s hesitation before he pulled her into his arms, mindful of her shoulder wound. Buffy sighed happily, allowing the relaxing motion of his fingers running through her hair to lull her to sleep.

***

Weeks went by like a blur for the slayer and vampire. Nothing sexual had happened between them that night. He occumpanied her on patrol; sometimes visibly, at others simply standing near her in the shadows. She always felt his presence and it comforted her to know he was out there watching out for her.

They slowly became friends, and when her mother was away he'd occasionally come round to watch a movie or simply nab her chocolate cocoa. They had kissed twice, though as it was after a long, vigorous demon fight, their timing allowed them to brush away their feelings as nothing more that gratitude that the other was alive; though this tended to confuse the situation more often than not.

Buffy walked calmly through Jackerson Cemetery, absently twiddling a stake. She was alone tonight, at least for now. She hadn't even sensed Spike's presence but she had no doubt that he'd resurface any time soon.

So caught up in her 'spikey' thoughts she didn't even notice Angelus up a head until he suddenly stepped out in front of her.

"Little stressed tonight, lover?" He asked, referring to her tense stance. "Want to come home with me, let me work it all out for you?" His leers only made her hate him more.

"As unappetising as that offer sounds I'm waiting for someone." She flipped her hair, delivering a sharp punch to his stomach before walking away.

"Which little piss-ant is it this time?" Angelus snarled.

"Like its any of your business!"

She made to walk on but he grabbed hold of her arm, delivering a hard kick to her back. She toppled forward, yanking her arm free, turning to face him as he snarled, "You're mine, Buff."

"Please! I wasn't even Angel's, what makes you think you have any sort of claim on me?!" She stood at the ready, though her whole body was shaking slightly in anticipation for the fight to come.

Kicks, punches, flips and sweeps. The ex-lovers fought with a ferocity never before seen. One for her life, the other for the right to claim what he thought his.

Angelus saw an opening and dove for her throat, his teeth gnashing violently. A vicious snarl smashed through the night. Angelus didn't even have any time to react as he was thrown to the ground by his unruliest childe.

Shaking his head dazedly he looked towards Buffy. At first he didn't quite believe his eyes. Buffy, HIS Buffy, was standing (willingly, dare he add) in his childe's arms. Swallowing his anger he forced a sardonic laugh to rumble in his chest.

"So this is why you've been ignoring poor Dru of late, huh, boy?"

"Fuck off, Peaches." Spike snarled, his eyes only briefly leaving Buffy's as he searched her for any visible injuries. From what he could see she was only shaken and tired.

"Tut, tut, William. Such language!" Angelus gave a mocking bow and disappeared into the night.

---

It was raining hard by the time Buffy and Spike made it up the tree outside the slayer's bedroom.

Spike gently placed her on the bed, before shaking off his wet duster. He knelt down in front of the silent girl, and gently began unlacing her shoes.

Buffy stared into space, her brain rejecting everything; every thought, every feeling.

Spike continued to silently tend to her. With gentle hands he removed her soaked jacket.

"I..." For the first time since they'd left the cemetery. "I don't think I love him anymore."

"Pet?" Spike's hands stilled as her eyes met his.

"It's gone." She smiled at him.

"What has?"

"The pain. It's been here for so long...I knew it had been dying - I felt it leave since that night with that vamp, remember?" She looked down at him imploringly. He was too scared to speak, afraid that if he did he'd somehow break her spell and the dream would be over.

"But tonight. I didn't feel any of it. I just...don't like him." She laughed and Spike joined in.

Suddenly she shivered and he remembered that she was soaked through. "Come on, pet, you best take a shower, get warmed up."

"'kay." Buffy nodded and began obediently heading for the door.

She turned around and found him heading for the window. A fear gripped her, and she forced the words from her mouth, afraid she wouldn't be able to get them out in time. "Spike?"

He turned to face her, "Yeah, love?"

"Be here when I get back?"

"Sure."

With a soft smile she left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Spike sighed silently and sat back down on the bed to wait. A thought struck him and he extended his senses. He could only hear Buffy's movements. The rest of the house was silent. As he knew from past experiences that Joyce snored he figured she was off on one of her many buying/selling trips. A moment later he heard the shower turn on.

He glanced around the dark room, a book on the bedside caught his notice. He flipped it over. It was a romance novel. *Figures.* On the front was a hand drawn picture of an overly muscled man with shoulder length dark hair. In the background stood a woman with long curly red hair, in a emerald dress. It was a historical romance and the characters were dressed accordingly.

Making sure her bookmark was still in place he flipped it over again and scanned the back. *Evil bloke, blah, blah, blah, hates woman's family, blah, blah, blah, has to marry her, blah, blah, blah. Sounds like shit.*

With that Spike flipped on the bedside table lamp and propped himself up against the pillows on the bed and flipped to the first page.

Twenty minutes later the shower turned off and wrapped in two soft towels, one around her body, the other around her head, Buffy padded down the hallway to her bedroom.

She silently opened the door and was about to open her mouth when she took into the picture presented to her. Sprawled out on her bed lay her blonde vampire, his hair was tousled from the rain and it curled slightly behind his ears making her want to run her fingers through it.

She let out a little giggle when she saw what had him so occupied. The sound finally brought his head up and he scowled at her, "How can you read this rot?"

"It's not 'rot', its good literature."

"It's a porn front is what it is." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm not forcing you to read it!" Buffy blushed furiously.

Spike suddenly seemed to realise what she was wearing. His sarky attitude dropped like a tonne of bricks and he rose from the bed in one fluid movement. Buffy backed up at the heated look in his eyes. The towel, which had only been precariously placed upon her head fell, allowing her long shower-curled hair to fall gracefully to her shoulders.

Spike closed his eyes as he leaned in and her scent washed over him. His eyes opened as his hand reached out and curled a lock of hair around his forefingers.

"So beautiful..." He whispered reverently.

"Spike..." She whimpered, she couldn't remove her eyes from the magnetic hold of his.....and she didn't want to.

He leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against hers. She whimpered into his mouth and he pressed into her just a little bit harder.

"Spike..." She panted out his name.

"Are you sure, love?" His voice was tight with the power it took to restrain himself.

"Kiss me..." She breathed, her hands loosing the grip they had on the towel that was wrapped about her body.

"Gladly." With a last smile his mouth came down on hers. His tongue swept into her mouth and as her hands rose to situate themselves in his hair, his wove their way around her body, allowing the towel to finally fall to the ground.

As the sun crested the horizon Spike shifted out from beneath the Slayer's arm and leg. Carefully he crossed the room, anxious not to catch the morning sunlight. He silently pulled the blinds, bathing the room in darkness once more.

With a content sigh he slid back into the bed. Buffy sighed his name in her sleep but didn't wake. Cool arms slipped around a warm body, and together they slept.

Sated.

---

Two Weeks After The Angelus Incident...

Buffy gave Spike one final kiss before she sent him on his way. He seemed mildly pissed but understood that she had to talk with her mother - some mother-daughter mortal bonding session thing.

Buffy smiled at his retreating back then gathered her courage for the upcoming discussion. For tonight she was going to face her hardest trail yet.

Introducing the idea of her boyfriend to her parents.

---

"Poor Spike, I see she traded you in for a younger model." Angelus' annoying voice flittered into his room and Spike looked up absently before returning his eyes to the television in front of him, feigning disinterest. But the older vampire's words began to fester in his mind as he recalled his sire's jealousy of the whelp; jealousy that of late had managed to expand into his own.

"Fuck off, Peaches."

"Really William, I would have thought after all these years you would have learnt something about women."

"What?" He asked irritably.

Angelus kept his countenance, "One night away from your little slayer and she's already found herself a new sugar-daddy."

"Bull shit." He stated.

"I shit you not, my childe. Go see for yourself. Last I checked they were practically fucking on the sofa."

"Wha...? She would never...." Spike stood, his sire's sadistic story having grown and taken root inside his brain.

"Go see for yourself." Spike was already halfway out the door, as Angelus continued his taunts, "Really my boy, thought you more a man then this!"

---

Spike vamped out, his yellow eyes shining across the street as he watched his lover reach up on her tiptoes to kiss the forty-something man. Had he been thinking rationally he would have guessed the truth off pat, but all he could see was HIS slayer in another man's arms.

He waited until Buffy had gone back into the house and the man had begun walking away from the road. He darted through the non-existent traffic and within seconds stood in front of the other man.

"Yes?" His voice was mildly interested and gentle. Spike could smell the slayer all over him and he growled, not bothering to speak he reached forward, cleanly snapping his neck.

He threw the body onto the porch before moving round the back of the house; he scaled the tree outside his lover's bedroom window.

---

"Hello, love." Spike stepped in through the open window, his entire body coiled in preparation for a fight. His eyes were a hard, icy blue but the slayer didn't appear to notice.

"Hey! I'm so glad you're here. Maybe we can catch him!"

Spike frowned his anger momentarily stunted, "Who?"

"He doesn't always show but I said it was important - you were important, and he promised he would and he did!" Buffy squealed, not having heard his question.

"Who?" Dread filled Spike, his mouth went dry as he watched her collect her coat, preparing to leave.

"Hmm?" Buffy asked absently, she stepped up to him kissing him soundly on the mouth.

His lips responded to her touch automatically but his brain was frozen, "Th-The man." He clarified.

"Oh..." She smiled, "It was my dad."

Part Two

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