Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike Moody Weekend: Dreamy
Word Count: 1,212
Date Written: 21 September 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Spike laid on his back, his own blood pouring down deep gashes in his face, over his neck, and onto his bare chest. His blonde, throbbing head was propped on his arm as he stared up at the night sky. The stars were out tonight. They had always made him feel small when he’d been a human, but now they seemed to speak of something else. He could almost hear them singing as Dru always said they did, singing of infinite possibilities, singing of a time that would come when he would overthrow Angelus and lead his girls into a better future. There had to be more to life than just fighting and fucking all the time, after all.
Angelus, of course, would scoff if he said anything aloud about that and knock the bloody Hell out of him again. The reason he was pouring blood now wasn’t because one of their prey had gotten lucky. It was because he’d taken the life of one Angelus had marked for himself, without having said anything prior, but he’d dined on the Great Poof’s favorite target and thus made himself a target for his rage and hatred.
There was more to life than being so grumpy all the time, Spike thought. Even Darla admitted that her childe brooded too much. They were supposed to be enjoying their Immortal lives, the four of them on top of and against the world, taking what they pleased, devouring what they pleased . . . But for Angelus, that meant he could turn his anger on whoever he chose, including, and increasingly often, it seemed, Spike. Right now he was off shagging both their women as they finished off the humans.
But Spike’s time would come, he thought, staring up at the stars. There would come a night when he was so powerful that he would not only be able to touch the stars but twist them to his own desire. He would bend the world to fit his will, and if someone refused to bend, he would break them. He would break Angelus. Spike’s dark lips slowly curled upward, the blood of his own victims shining on his lips and fangs in the moonlight. The Great Poof couldn’t last forever. One night, he’d slip up. One night, he would find a way to break him, and then he himself would rule forever.
Spike’s smile grew. His night was coming. He just have to have patience and wait, and if there was one thing he was good at doing, it was waiting until the right opportunity came along. He hummed as he listened to the other Vampires’ distant roars and the humans scream. His time would come. Dru was right: it was all in the stars.
Over two hundred years later, Spike again found himself laying on his back in a field and staring up at the night stars that stretched far above his head and for for many more miles than he could possibly see. It was rare that they sang to him, or at least rare that he could hear their voices that his former love had always been able to hear, but he heard them on this late night as the Slayer tossed herself down beside him. They were both covered in blood, but none of it was their own.
Buffy sighed, her heavy breathing slowly returning to normal. She turned her head and grinned up at him; he could feel her smile wash over him though he wasn’t looking at her. “That was crazy,” she huffed.
He smiled and licked his lips as he heard, far louder and nearer than the crooning of the stars, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yeah. Who’d’ve thought Giants still exist?”
Her grin grew. “Just our luck to find one that was made into a Vampire.” And it was crazy too, she thought though she didn’t say it aloud, how Faith was still right. After all these years, slaying still made her hungry and horny, but there was something different about her man tonight. Something was calling his devoted attention away from her. “Whatcha thinking?” she asked, her voice growing softer.
“Nothing,” he said, leaning his head further back against his leather-clad arm. “Nothing really.” She was quiet, and he knew she was waiting with uncharacteristic patience for him to continue. “Just remembering,” he murmured at last.
“Uh huh,” she remarked after a while. Her heart rate was slowing down, returning to normal; her breathing already had.
“Dru was right, you know,” he commented softly. He felt her tense immediately and smiled. It was good to know he could still make her jealous; even if she was still sometimes drawn to the Great Poof, it was clear that she had equally strong, if not stronger, feelings for him. Spike hoped she would choose him in the end -- he’d never given up that hope --, but he knew he had to give her time. Love was not something that could be demanded or beaten into a person. He’d never raise his fist to her again, and besides, she did love him. It just remained to see how much. “They do sing,” he explained at length.
“What? Who?” He felt her frowning.
“The stars,” he replied. “They sing of the past, of the future -- “
“Really?” Her gaze followed his to the velvety night sky and the stars that shone like diamonds while filling it. “What are they speaking of tonight?”
“They’re reminding us anything is possible,” he answered, his thick, emotional voice a soft whisper on the night wind. She reached out and took his hand in hers. “That we can do anything.” He entwined his fingers around hers. “I can do anything.”
He turned his head at length to look down at her and found her gazing thoughtfully up at him. “Do you believe them?” she asked.
His smile was brilliant, brighter, warmer, and lovelier to her than any celestial blanket of stars. “I do,” he answered. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed her bloody knuckles. “I made you fall in love with me after all, didn’t I?”
She smiled and scrunched her nose teasingly up at him. “I don’t know about made,” she answered truthfully. Then she leaned up and over him, bracing herself on a hand on the ground next to his head. She lowered her body against his and touched her lips to his. Her tongue slid into his hot and eager mouth as they kissed with growing passion and the hunger that remained from the fight.
Above her bare shoulder, he could still see the stars. He could still hear them too, and he knew they were right. This was what he had been waiting for, far better than simply defeating Angelus. This was the love he’d been waiting for for centuries, and this was the love and the woman who made him truly feel like he could do anything. He was invincible, he thought as he deepened their kiss, as long as Buffy loved him, and he hoped their love would outlast even the stars. He knew his for her would; it only remained to be seen if she could learn to love him as long as he would always love her.