Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike Harlot's Movie Theater: Rockstar and The Bodyguard and faerie_wish13: Beach
Word Count: 1,241
Date Written: 13 June, 2016
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Sometimes, he wonders how they came this far. It's amazing how far a simple wish has gotten him. He's holding the woman he loves against his chest wherein an actual, human heart beats and listening to the sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore in the midnight hour. Nothing about this would have been possible only a month ago, but now, he barely remembers that time.
It all happened with a wish. A single, solitary wish made all his dreams come true. Perhaps not everybody was made better off by his wish. Perhaps there are even some, maybe even many, who aren't alive tonight because of the wish he made back then, but he doesn't care about them. He was a Vampire. He still remembers the way he felt back when humans were just Happy Meals with legs.
But she changed all that. She reached something so deep within him that he thought it was gone forever. She found the fragments of the soul and heart he thought lost to him forever and touched him so deeply that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget her. He couldn't stop wanting to help her. He couldn't stop loving her.
He found his soul. He fought to get it back. He fought for her love and to protect her, but it wasn't enough. He lost her any way in that world, but not in this one. In this one, she's alive and well. In this one, instead of himself being the lovesick dog at her beck and call, she is his biggest fan.
His dark lips twist into a smirk as he remembers being asked if he was the Slayer's bodyguard. He was that and so much more, but now, there's no one from whom he has to protect her. Now she's safe and in his arms where she belongs. They're together, and there are no forces left interested enough in them to want to rip them apart.
"What is it?" he hears her softly ask, her lips moving against his bare chest.
He runs a hand gently up and down her slender back, barely clad in her bikini. "Nothing, luv," he murmurs, turning his face into her long, blonde hair and kissing it softly. There's nothing about which she'll ever have to worry again.
If he's honest with himself now, he didn't think any of this was really possible. He didn't think a spell could bring her back to him, let alone make her forget. He didn't think being her idol instead of her sparring -- and more -- partner could make her love him so much. He feared he wouldn't be able to forget that none of this is really the way it was.
And it isn't the way it was, but it also isn't pretend. The wish he made made everything real. He maintained his humanity and got to be a rock star. He's got the power and wealth that comes with his new position in life, and it's more than enough to keep them happy and healthy for the rest of their mortal life spans. Best of all, he's got her. She's completely enamored with him, and he knows, even if she perhaps doesn't, that it's not just because of his music that she loves him. They've always been meant to be together, and now they finally have a true chance at a lifetime spent together undeterred by the Powers that Be, by demigods or other Vampires, even by the Great Poof and her little friends.
And yet, somehow, they've managed to hang on to her in this lifetime. He was surprised when Xander showed up as a roadie in his band but not nearly as much when he recognized the redhead as one of his back-up singers. Giles' old friend, Ethan, is his manager, so he knows that old Ripper's around somewhere. But even he doesn't remember the life that was.
The one person from their old life he might've felt guilty about leaving behind was little Dawn, but Buffy has her mother and sister still in this world. In fact, Dawn's actually a kid. He was right at Buffy's side when her mother had her second child just a few years ago. He remembers the day well, even though it never actually happened, but what is happening is that Dawnie's getting a real childhood and his Buffy is happy.
She's happy, and she's never going to be the Slayer. She'll never be called in this world. She'll never be in the constant danger she was as the Slayer. He'll never lose her.
But right now, he's feeling her frowning against his chest. "You're getting all thinky again," she comments, pouting again.
"It's nothing, luv," he repeats, rubbing her slender back. His fingers catch the tied strings of her top and curl around them, toying with them and her.
"Spike," she laments, "I'm not just some fangirl! I know you! Something's bothering you! Now tell me what it is."
"It's nothing really," he repeats. "I'm just thinking about the past, luv." And all the things that never have to happen.
"What about the past?"
"Nothing that matters," he assures them both, turning and pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. "This is all that matters now, little bit, you and me."
He feels her frown lift into a smile. She's happy here, truly happy and untouched by the evils of the world. He knows they're still out there, but as long as they don't come bothering them, he couldn't care less. What they do is their business, not his or hers to have to fight, and as long as they don't come interfering on their happiness, they can do whatever the Hell they like.
The silence stretches over the beach he owns. There's nothing but the waves to listen to for the longest time. Then she asks softly, "Spike?"
"Yes, luv?" he returns just as softly, palming the space between her shoulders between the strings he's left undone.
"Tell me you love me."
He rolls over, laying her on her back so that he can gaze down into her beautiful, green eyes. They're so wide and innocent in this world he's made for them. The truth of his love shines in his own eyes as he gazes down at her. She's beaming in response even before he vows, "I love you, Buffy, and I always will more than anything else. You're the only one for me."
"And you're the only one for me," she answers, and as she lifts her hands to him, the moonlight catches on the gold band he slipped onto her wedding finger yesterday.
Ah, yes, he thinks with complete satisfaction and unmarred joy, this is the life for them. It may not be the world into which they were born, but he's given them the perfect world, the perfect lives together.
"I love you," he whispers again, lowering himself down onto her lips, and he knows that's an universal truth. No matter the world, no matter the life, he's always been meant to love her. She's the Muse he's been searching for all his days, the Muse to whom he tried to write poems and for whom he now writes songs. She's the better half of him, and they're complete at last. They're complete and in paradise, and he prayers, as he kisses her lips again and again, that it lasts forever.