Memories

Disclaimer: On the off-chance that you’ve never seen BtVS or Angel and are under the misconception that this is all the progeny of my vibrant imagination, you’re wrong. I don’t own any of the cctercters (except a few ortiorting ones perhaps, like the cool mafia vampire) or a large amount of the setting, that all belongs to Joss. I do however possess an insanely obsessed mind, so read and enjoy. And I believe I mentioned this in the summary, but this IS A SPUFFY FIC, so if you’re a B/A fan and would rather choke on a Berliner (which I’ve been told is a German pastry of some sort) than read about Spike and Buffy shagging (not that I’m giving you spoilers or anything), please feel free to do so.

This story is also posted on www.fanfiction.net in a more child-appropriate version.

SET: Post-Shells. (Angel season 5, BtVS non-existent season 8)


*THE PHONE CALL*

“Spike...” Buffy moaned into his cool chest. His white skin was smooth and moist and smelled so perfectly of Spike. Her mind could barely grasp how lucky she was to have gotten him back, how lucky she was that he was hers.

“Buffy, I’ve missed you...“ he peppered her face, neck, and collar with ith small but wet kisses. “I’ve missed –“ he slid his hand down her side and between her legs, burying his fingers in her soft curls. “All of you.” His smirking face gazed iher her eyes, his own pair dark with desire. She shot a playful smile at him.

He was waiting for some sort of encouragement, and it was nearly killing him. His chiseled body quivered with anticipation.

“Oh, go on then,” she laughed. “You’d better fuck me or you’ll dust in my lap.”

His fingers parting her labia and reaching for her clit, he grinned. “I’d more likely to come in it, if you made me wait any longer.

Buffy laughed. She loved how crude he was. And then she gasped as he stroked and pinched her clit. Pleasure rolled through her body in waves.

“Like that, Slayer?”

“Like it?” she replied. “God, I love it. I love you, Spike.”

He nuzzled into her neck. “I love to hear you say that...” Unable to stall any longer, he guided his firm cock in between her smooth thighs and pushed into her hot, wet folds. Buffy’s hips rose to meet his, matching his painfully slow speed. Once he was entirely sheathed in her hot inside, he pulled out to thrust in again. It had been so long since she’d felt the pleasure that only Spike could give her that she was already close to coming.

The two of them increased the pace, thrusting faster and faster until their movement became frantic and desperate. He slipped his hand between them, fingering her clit. His large member rubbed against her bundle of nerves, causing her to lose awareness of everything around her except him. There was nothing in the world besides her and this man. The man she loved.

She tightened her inner muscles around him, eliciting a loud moan. The pleasure raced through her body and caused her hips to buck involuntarily as she rose to her climax. “Oh, Spike...Uhhh...”His release was only moments before hers, and the two of them panted as they came down. I love how he does that, she thought. How he breathes when he doesn’t need to. Her world was perfect; she couldn’t imagine a single thing that could be better.

Suddenly she heard the door open, letting reality encroach upon her paradise.

Buffy sat up sharply in bed, shocked and embarrassed. “DAWN! What are you – Does a locked door mean NOTHING to you?!” Buffy tightened her hold on the sheet, which she had wrapped around her bare chest. The layout of the room was such that she could not see her sister directly, but did not miss a second of Dawn’s amused expression in the large dressing table mirror. Buffy could see her own rosy cheeks, framed by her sweaty hair. How much had her sister seen…?

“You’re such a freak. What were you doing anyway?” Dawn asked, perplexed.

Buffy exchanged a confused look with Spike right beside her. Dawn was almost 18, how could she not understand…

Buffy looked at the mirror in front of her, noticing that in it, she appeared to be sitting alone. She turned back to Spike.

Only, he was gone.

Buffy looked once more in the mirror, and watched her reflection sarcastically inform her, “Yeah. He’s not there.”

Mirror-Buffy opened her hand while Buffy looked on, and procured an amulet, much like one one Angel had entrusted to her back in Sunnydale. Just a few months had passed and already it felt like a lifetime.

“It’s for a champion,” Mirror-Buffy said, putting it around an invisible vampire neck. Buffy looked again at where Spike had been only moments before. “You will find the amulet when you find the Champion.”

Buffy awoke with a start. Her alarm clock kept beeping, as she ignored it and tried to cuddle up to Spike. She found no one. Leaving the alarm beeping its little alarm heart out, she tossed the covers off and made her way to the bathroom. Buffy sighed as she passed through the bathroom doorway, resigning herself to reality. “So it was just a dream after all,” she said to herself. “Should’ve known.”

* * * * *

“Let’s talk business. Wesley, what have you guys figured out about that stone? You know, the one with the runes on it.” Angel shuffled through the progress reports on his desk. Someone had organized them while he’d been sick, and the covers sported sparkly heart and unicorn stickers.

Wesley’s face combined a squint and a frown as he replied. “Well…Not much. It seems to be...archaic, demonic in origin...but appears to pre-date any written records. I –“

Angel seemed less patient that usual, and seemed preoccupied with a perturbing matter. “Wes? When you know something for sure, let me know. Especially if it explains what this has to do with the Prophecy.”

Gunn spoke up. “Do we even know that it’s got anything to do with the Shanshu business? Just because Ms. Blue Hair hinted at it doesn’t mean it does.”

Wesley stared fixedly out Angel’s window. Illyria, Ms. Blue Hair, looked so much like Fred…Wesley couldn’t help thinking of the demon as Fred. But he had to stop thinking it, because Illyria had murdered Fred and turned her beautiful body into a shell. It just was so difficult to think of Fred – Illyria – as a bad guy.

Gunn noticed Wesley’s discomfort. The lawyer wanted to be comforting, but things were still a bit awkward after the skewering incident. “Hey, English?” Gunn ventured.

Wesley looked up, but did not say anything.

“We could go…get some lunch, or something. If you feel up to it.”

Wesley smiled weakly. He was extremely relieved that Gunn was putting in an effort to smooth over all the tension between them. “I believe I’m up to it,” he replied.

The two left the office, the door swinging behind them. Before it had stopped, Harmony entered.

“Morning, bossie!” she greeted, setting a “#1 Boss” mug on the desk in front of Angel. “I brought you your blood. Sorry,” she said, scrunching her neck down and her shoulders up, while she smiled apologetically. “I couldn’t help drinking a little. Hope you don’t mind.”

Angel stared at her as he raised the mug to his lips. “Harmony, business. I’m not taking any calls or having any visitors today. Have Wesley…No, have Gunn do all my client meetings. I’m taking the day off.”

“Sure thing. Anything else?”

“No.” Angel sighed as his secretary started to leave the room. “Oh, Harmony,” he added. “Don’t ever organize my paperwork again.”

* * * * *

Spike watched apprehensively as the surgeon checked up on his hands. Slayers were trouble, no doubt about it. Slayers…Buffy…Spike thought about what Andrew had said, thought about what Buffy would say if he phoned her in Rome. Would it be “Oh, Spike, I missed you so much!” or “You’re beneath me”?

“Well, no problems here. It all went fine.”

Spike looked at the doctor. “You’re sure these are mine?” Spike asked, looking his re-attached hands over. “Sew on the hands of a maniac, and you might get on my bad side.”

The surgeon chuckled. “So you heard about Lindsey.” He dropped his rubber gloves in the trash. “Don’t worry, we don’t like you enough for that.”

Spike raised his hand and made an obscene two-fingered gesture at the doctor, who grimaced, and began to leave the room.

Spike called out to him. “Hey! You know how to make a call to Rome?”

* * * * *

“How’s Brazil?” Buffy asked.

“Nice,” Willow told her over the phone. “It’s extremely warm, but it’s –“ Willow’s description was interrupted by a squeak, which was followed by a reprimanding whisper: “Kennedy, wait til I’m – off the phone!”

Buffy smiled wryly. “So Kennedy’s with you. You’re lucky.”

Willow was quiet. Buffy’s tone was so…sad. “Buff? What’s wrong?”

Buffy felt something in the pocket of her coat. She switched the phone to her other hand so she could reach for it. “Oh, it’s nothing...Andrew just brought back this Slayer, and she’s completely off her rocker. She’s a handful – Faith doesn’t even know what to do with her.”

“Wow,” exclaimed Willow sympathetically. “That’s really –“

Buffy’s phone beeped. “Ooh, call waiting. Hang on, I’ll just check who it is.”

Buffy answered the new call. “Hello? This is –“

“Buffy,” said the male voice on the phone. “It’s Angel.

Ok, I'm going through this story for the second time, FIXING ALL THE TYPOS. This is a miraculous moment. I'm also formulating the outline for my sequel, which I have finally decided to start writing, so c'mon people. Review and encourage me to continue revising and writing! The world will be a better place!