![]() Welcome to the Hellmouth
A new city, a new Hellmouth, many new Slayers. As the plane passed over Cleveland, Giles was suddenly acutely aware of his age. So many girls to train, so much knowledge to salvage, so many things to organize… He let out a sigh, and immediately a concerned voice asked him what was wrong. He shook his head, smiled, lied. And then realized that maybe it wasn’t a lie after all. He had around him people who had survived the atrocious odds of growing up in Sunnydale and helped close the Hellmouth. Maybe there was hope. He would miss Buffy though. |
![]() Welcome to Cleveland It was half a field trip, half a reconnaissance mission. Seven Slayers, one Watcher, two Watchers in training, one high school Principal. For a long time they observed the Browns’ stadium in silence from where they had parked the cars, aware that this was the new center of the Hellmouth. “Technically, it’s not new,” Giles felt necessary to precise when one of them voiced the thought. “The Hellmouth has been there for…” Faith tuned him out. She didn’t care that it wasn’t new, didn’t care that she wasn’t the only Slayer standing guard over it. This one was hers. Period. |
![]() Real Rewards A bauble fell to the floor from the opened envelope. Immediately, light flooded the room, accompanied by an anguished cry. Under the bemused gazes of the ex-members of Angel Investigations, a figure appeared, fleshing out slowly, emerging from thin air. Spike. William the Bloody. Second only to Angelus. And apparently pissed off. As his eyes fell on the souled counterpart of his grand-sire, his too fast breath caught in his throat. With a shout, he lunged at him, and Angel, still frozen by surprise, could not avoid the fist that crashed into his jaw and sent him to the floor. |
![]() Moonlight The
reflection of the moon appeared to dance on the ocean, following a
rhythm only known to lovers. Coming toward the land, the wind was
fresh, pleasant in the suffocating night air. Sitting on the sand, arms
around her legs and chin on her knees, Buffy shivered. It was the
hottest summer Europe had seen in decades, and yet she couldn't get
warm. She had been frozen to the bones since Sunnydale, since all the
heat of the world had disappeared with...
Her cell phone rang. Angel apparently needed her in Los Angeles. There or elsewhere, it did not matter.
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![]() Sunlight Spike still
didn’t feel comfortable in the sun, even if sunlight was completely
harmless, even if he was standing behind necro-tempered glass. It was
one thing to know he wouldn’t burn if he took a stroll outside, quite
another to be able to enjoy it.
He wasn’t a vampire anymore, but he still had sharp ears. Wesley had just entered his office. “Still getting used to it?” Wes asked. Spike nodded as he turned to face him. “Getting easier,” he lied. Nothing was easier. Nothing would be until he knew… “She’s coming,” the other man announced. Soon he would know.
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![]() Dialing Spike sighed as his Slayer dialed her gang’s number in Cleveland. She had insisted that they needed to know, that they would be glad for him. For them. He had serious doubts about that. Old Rupert was certainly not going to be happy. Same for Wood, and Harris. Red? Maybe. Neither of them really mattered anyway, their approval – or lack thereof – didn’t keep him awake at night. Bu there was one more. He had always regretted losing Dawn’s friendship. Even if he tried to hide it, he was anxious about her reaction. Buffy smiled. “Dawn wants to talk to you.” |
![]() Talking “Hello Dawn.” “Spike? That’s really you?” “Last time I checked.” “Oh my God! Spike!” Laugh. “Yes, Dawn. It’s me. I promise.” Quiet sob. “I’ve missed you so much.” Silence. “Missed you too, bit.” Deep breath. “You know… I’d told myself… after it’d be over, I’d have a talk with you. And try to be friends again. But then… It was over, and you were gone, and I hadn’t told you…” More tears. Silent smile. “I know, pet. Me too.” They stayed on the phone for over an hour. When Spike finally hung up, he was smiling. Buffy hugged him tight. |
![]() Light It still startled Buffy to see him in the sun. A few times, she had come close to pulling him out of the sunlight, where he would be safe. But he was safe, wasn’t he? As they walked, hand in hand, in a street at midday, he was as safe as he had ever been under the cold light of the stars. Sometimes, she caught herself staring, in awe of how different he looked in this light. How he still was exactly the same. She had been a fool for thinking that him not being a vampire would change anything. |
![]() Paradise Island “Still can’t believe there isn’t a single demon on this island. We’re going to stay a bit longer just to investigate and be completely sure. Take care of you all.” Buffy signs the postcard and completes the address, double-checking Cleveland’s zip code. Just as she finishes, Spike’s wet hand trails along her shoulders, unexpected coolness on her sun-warmed skin. “Come swim with me, luv?” Instantly, she forgets that she wanted to ask him to sign the card too. Smiling, she takes his hand. The sand is burning under their feet as they run to the turquoise waters of the lagoon.
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![]() Sunrise (1) The sun wouldn’t rise for an hour or so. Strange how Spike could still feel this even though he didn’t have to fear the sun anymore. The prickling sensation at the base of his neck was still there, getting more intense as the time came closer, and often awakening him early. Like now. Slow and silent, he slipped out of bed and into a pair of shorts. A steady wind was blowing from the ocean, and the air was fresh as he walked out of the bungalow. He sat down in the sand, facing the east, and waited.
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![]() Sunrise (2) Buffy was
used to it, by now, but she couldn’t help that first pang of dread when she
first woke up to find herself alone. She wished she knew what to do to make things
easier for him, but she had no clue. So, she simply showed him in every way she
could that she loved him and would be there for him whatever he went through.
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![]() The most romantic city in the world... It was raining on Paris, and the sky was gray and dull. No Metro; the employees were striking again. Too many traffic jams and upset people. Oblivious to all that, Buffy and Spike were strolling along the Champs Elysées. Like two teenagers too caught up in a new love to care about the world, they were wrapped in each other, arms looped, matching smiles, dancing steps. Short of a Hellmouth opening in front of them, nothing could have dispelled the joyous carelessness that came off from them. “It truly is a beautiful city,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving him.
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![]() Not a Child She was a
child. Just a child. Hell, she was almost his own sister, the kid who used to
think he was a hero. Except… She
didn’t look like a child anymore. Pretty, sexy clothes, a hint of make-up,
secretive smiles, delicate blushes. No, not a child. And she
didn’t see him as a hero anymore. She hadn’t said as much, but it was there, in
the way she looked at him, smiled to him, joked with him. Flirted with him. She
saw him as a man. And he was
thinking too much.
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