New Beginning

Fanfiction


Chapter 6


"Why isn’t he back already?" Angel motions me to follow and leads me into his office, I think.  

"Nobody can predict when he’s going to reappear. It varies."  

"So, I might be too late? He could just have dissapeared forever?"  

But Angel doesn’t seem to bother.  

"You are so selfish. I thought you are fighting on the good side, now? Protecting those in need, the innocent…" 

"Spike is not innocent. I Know him, I’ve sen what he did…," he grumbles. 

"Yes, I know that he was a monster. But he has changed, Angel. Like you claim you did. He is a good man, and I trust him with my life. But you I don’t recognize anymore." 

As we are in the middle of a quarrel, Wesley runs into Angel's office and tells him to follow him to Fred’s lab. We run through the corridors and as we enter, we are facing hell. Flashes, electricity, screams, a whirl in the middle of the room. 

Above all that noise, Fred shouts: "It’s happening. We had to try it now, or he would have had no chance of coming back."  

The forces tear at my hair, almost choke me and then I detect a silhouette amidst all this chaos. Someone screams in agony, it’s him, and slowly his face rematerializes and then his body.  

"Willow, com’on," I mutter and watch the secenery in front of me.  

His body jerks, he seems to be ripped apart as the forces won’t let him go and then I am violently pushed away by something.  

As I regain consciousness, I find myself lying in the far end of the room, almost upside down against the wall. I gasp as I try to sit up. Angel lies close to me but he seems to be fine. I get on my hands and knees and crawl to the hunched figure in the middle of the room. I reach out a hand and touch Spike’s cheek. He looks like himself and I can feel his skin.  

It’s warm. Why is he warm, shouldn’t he be his cold Vampire self? And then I remember Willow as she said, she didn’t know how he’d come back. I move my hand down to touch his neck. "Oh my God," I breathe. 

 

Chapter 7 

"I’m here, it’s okay." He tries to sit up, but I hold him in place. "No, take your time, stay there."  

He opens his eyes and looks up at my face. He reaches up one hand to touch my cheek and wipes at my tears.  

"You saved me," he smiles.  

"No, Willow did. And Fred. But it’s over now, no-one’s going to hurt you anymore, I promise."  

Spikes eyes are full of amazement. I take his hand tenderly and lead it away from my cheek.  

"Don’t be afraid," I whisper as I lay it down on his chest. His eyes widen in shock as realization drives home.  

"Buffy?"  

Nobody can say my name the way he does. I nod, I don’t even see the group of people that’s gathering around us.  

"I….," he stammers and struggles to sit up. "O God."  

His hands wander over his body in a frantic. He feels himself, his pulse, his heartbeat, his breath. Tears form behind his eyes and Wesley mutters.  

"One Vampire…turning into a man…the prophecy is fulfilled."  

I look up at him and then at Angel. I see in his eyes he knows what Wesley is talking about, and that he had wished he would be the one. I’m sorry for him, but the man sitting in front of me needs me more. His world broke apart, he lost this identity again. The man I never knew turned into a vampire and fashioned a new self. That vampire tunred again into something in between, fought his monster but never fully became human. Until now. The immortal, now able to die. 

I help Spike stand up and support him. He’s so weak. "Thank you," I adress Fred who stares at us with big eyes.  

"I did nothing…it was Willow."  

Harmony is obviously shattered into pieces, she can’t even talk. But Spike only sees me. "How?" 

"I don’t know, we’ll find out, though. Let’s get you somewhere to rest."  

Wesley steps forward. "I drive you, there’s a hotel one of our clients owns. I’m sure you can stay there for a fair prize."  

"Thanks." 

So we leave, I can feel Angel’s eyes bore into my back and I feel a piece of my heart breaking. I almost lost someone who’s very dear to me because of him, and this time he didn’t have the I-lost-my-soul-explanation to save his neck.  

Minutes later the elevator stops and we step out into the sunny day. Spike jumps in panic, the memory of his death and burning flesh all to present in his mind, but I take his hand and calm him.  

"It’s okay, trust me. Humans don’t combust in sunlight. We like it."  

I smile reassuringly and he follows Wesley and me to the car. He opens the door and I slip into the backseat. But Spike keeps standing in front of the open door. His face turned upwards right into the warm rays, he smiles.  

"I’m alive," he whispers. 

"Yes, you are," I whisper back. Then he looks down and gets into the seat beside me. 

Wesley starts the engine and we leave the parking lot behind. "We have so much time to talk," I tell him, trying to divert is attention away from his heartbeat. 

But he answers me: "No, we don’t luv. We’ve already begun dying."  

He looks out of the window and loses himself in the bright day, he doesn’t see me stare at him. Here we are, two people, who have been dead, literally, rewarded with a second chance. And I talk of time? I take his hand into mine and smile at the warmth of his skin. He squeezes it.  

"How does that feel? The heat, I mean?"  

"Good," I smile. "Though the icy fingers were kinda nice sometimes…"  

I earn a smug grin. Maybe he won’t have that much difficulties adjusting as I thought. There’s not much to get used to…well new diet and he can go out in daylight, but I’m sure he’ll manage that.

Wesley stops his car in front of a huge building and only minutes later, Spike and I are entering our suite. Wesley has gone back to Angel and so it’s only us left.  

Suddenly I feel awkward around him. All those weeks that he was gone, I knew with undeniable clarity what I’d say or do, would I have him back. But now, as he’s standing in front of the bedroom, so alone and looking so lost, I lack the right words. He turns and looks at me, standing in the middle of the living-room, holding my little bag in both hands. He must be as insecure as I this very moment.  

Then he takes a couple of steps closer. "Uhm, would you mind…I’d like to take a shower, maybe I’ll feel better afterwards. You know, wash away the dirt of hell…"  

And the past deeds, right Spike? "Go ahead," I smile bravely, glad to gain a couple of minutes by myself. 

I watch him vanish inside the bathroom and as I hear the rushing of water, I enter the bedroom. There I unpack my clothes and ponder whether to call Willow or not. I decide against it, and switch off my phone. She can call Angel, because I want this night just for Spike and me. I have to talk to him, I’m not good at this I know, but I’m convinced it’s what he needs.  

About half an hour later, Spike is finished. I hear the water being turned off and moments later he patts out of the room, barefooted and cuddled into the standard hotel bathrope. His hair is ruffled and sticks out in all directions. I can’t help smiling at him because he looks so cute. I’ve never labelled Spike as cute, but this very moment he is. He stops in front of the bed, on which I’m lying, and buries his hands in his pockets. 

"This is…all I have to wear…," he mumbles and the continues, "My old clothes…well…I guess I’ve been in them too long. The duster is still good, but…"  

"I get it. I’ll go down to the shop and see what I can find. Why don’t you pick something to eat? I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry and since you *have* to eat, maybe you might want to pick something?"  

He smiles. "Thanks," and as I’ve reached the door, he calls after me " And Buffy! Please no bright colors…"  

Of course not. 

Packed with three bags fullof T-shirts and Levis’ I enter our suite again. I love shopping and feel a little better now. Spike sits on the couch in the living-room, staring out of the window. Placed on the table are dishes. 

"Smells good," I announce and he nods.  

"Yeah, it’s chicken –something. Don’t know."  

He stands up and I hand him the bags. He seems sad somehow as he walks into the bedroom to change. I sit down in front of the yummie meal and wait for him. I’d like to take a shower myself, but I don’t want him to eat alone.  

Shortly after Spike reappears wearing the pair of black Levis and a dark-grey, thight tee.  

"Hope the clothes are okay." He tells me they are and sits down beside me. We eat in silence and I can’t help it, but he seems to slip away from me.

Soon, the food is all eaten and I retreat to the shower. I relax as the hot water runs down my back in little streams. Yet I hurry to be back with him, and as I enter the living room I find him asleep. Right at the place I left him. Head dropped back on the couch, body relaxed, deep and even breathing. Silently I tiptoe over to him and sit beside him carefully. Now I feel how tired I am myself, I haven’t slept in about two days. I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, just for a little bit.

 

Chapter 8 

As I open them again, the room is dark. Through the window some flickering street lights enter but they don’t manage to illuminate it completely. My head still rests on Spikes shoulder but he has shifted his position and after my eyes are accustomed to the dim light and are able to focus, I stare right into his face.  

"Hey," I mumble, "watching me?"  

"Mh-mh, best thing I’ve ever done," he whispers back.  

His right hand moves up and puts a strain of hair behind my ear. For a moment I stiffen, as his warm hand touches my skin and I associate him just having drunk blood out of a living being. Before I can remember that this is how he is now, he already caught my reaction and withdrew his hand too quickly.  

"Sorry," he mumbles and pushes away from me.  

"No, Spike, wait, it’s okay….I …just have to get used to it. I mean, you being human. And warm."  

I close the distance between us and take his hand into mine.  

"Well, tell *me*," he mutters. I reach behind me to switch the light on but he stops me.  

"No, Buffy, this is….I’m used to the dark." I understand and focus back on his silhoutte, if it makes talking easier, be it.  

"How is this for you?" I whisper and it takes him a couple of minutes to answer. 

"Well, love. How was it for you to come back from the dead?" He pauses. "I…I don’t really know what to do, now. I’m of no use anymore."  

I excpected him to look for his identity, but he seems to be sure of that. Instead he worries about being superfluos. 

"You are, Spike. You can help me, I need you. I don’t want to do this forever but for now, I have my hands full with finding the new slayers and kicking some demons’ ass. I realized the past weeks, how much I need you in my life." 

His thumb starts stroking my hand. "Thanks, Buffy, but I’m not strong anymore. I’m…I don’t know if I can keep up with you."  

I bend over to him and whisper. "Yes you can. Because your strength lies here." I put my other hand on his chest, above his heart. "You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. I can’t tell you how proud I am of what you are."  

I can see him swallow hard. He turns his face in my direction and his breath washes over me. He smells so good and I can’t stop myself from inhaling his scent deeply.  

"I missed you so much," I whisper. "And I do, you know. I do."  

"What Buffy?" he whispers back.  

"Love you," I answer.  

He holds his breath and then moves closer to me. His lips meet mine and he kisses me. Just lightly, as if saying again hanks for saying it but you don’t have to pretend. But I’m not done, I want him to know.  

"I’ve never been closer to anyone but you. You held me and I felt safe. I couldn’t sleep without you being near me, after…" 

"So…it meant something, Buffy? It meant we were onto something new?"  

As he speaks I touch his cheek. 

"Yes, we were. But only if you want to…"  

He answers me with a long, deep but tender kiss. Like he’s never kissed me before. He still hungers for me like I do for him, but we now know who we are. We’ve faced our demons and are ready to let the other touch every part of us. I’m ready to allow him to be gentle or rough. I know I’d still be his slave and master and he will be mine, too. His warm lips and hot tongue seduce me. 

"Spike," I breathe and he stops, moving back, afraid he had done something wrong. So I hasten to speak again. "Don’t stop. Make love to me." He stands up and holds out his hand. I take it and let him lead me into the bedroom. 

As he undresses me I’m aware that there’s a lot we still have to talk about. His future with me or what he fears most. How it had been, facing eternal hell. Because I can see the scars that experience has left on him. But for now, loving, touching and kissing will be enough. In fact, it’s the best method to forget ones perils. And I’m more than willing to help. 

*The End*