Written for Josephine's birthday, and fondly dedicated to her.
Autumn
They had thought of staying in the Caribbean for a while, spend the
winter there, under the caress of a sun they could now enjoy together.
A few casual words changed that: Spike’s nonchalant comment that he
hadn’t seen a proper autumn in more time than he could remember, and
his opinion that Buffy, California girl that she was, probably never
had.
Lounging on the white sand beach, with the lagoon behind them just
about the same shade of blue as Spike’s eyes, they talked of swirling
leaves, fiery colors, howling winds that made lovers hold tighter to
each other, and lovemaking next to a fireplace. Spike even shared
memories of a time his name had been William, of picking up chestnuts
and gorging himself on their roasted goodness.
When evening came, the decision was already made. They packed their
bags, played one last time in the cool waves under the rising moon, and
by morning flew away from their paradise island and toward England. Two
days later, now owning sensibly warm autumnal clothes, they rented a
car and drove away from a London they had both found dreary and gray.
In truth, they didn’t know where they were going, but when they arrived
there they looked at each other and shared a grin, instantly knowing
that this was what they had flown around the world for. These autumn
colors they had dreamed about under the palm trees were suddenly there,
close enough to touch.
They took a room in the town’s Bed & Breakfast, bundled themselves
into warm coats, and went to explore, their pockets full of roasted
chestnuts offered by their hostess. The wood that had stopped them was
a park, and, hand in hand, they followed a well-defined path for a
little while, chatting lightly, nibbling on their autumn treats and
stealing warm kisses from each other’s lips. After meeting one too many
persons on their way, Spike pulled Buffy off the trail, and for some
silly reason they started running through the fallen leaves, scaring a
few rabbits and squirrels, their hands never letting go of each other.
Breathless as much from the run as from childlike laughter, they
collapsed in a small clearing, and lay on their backs for a while, side
by side, too fast heartbeats calming down as they contemplated the sky
above them.
When Spike turned on his side to look at his Slayer, his breath caught
in his throat for a second. Lying on a bed of gold and red, her short
hair fanned out around her face like the rays of the sun, she was a
vision to behold. As he reached to caress her face, she looked at him
and smiled lovingly.
“I was wrong,” she said softly. “Your eyes aren’t the color of the lagoon. They’re exactly like the sky of England.”
Returning her smile, he leaned toward her and discovered on her lips
the taste of a long forgotten autumn, and of many more yet to come.
Home ~ Cleveland-verse
The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.
