Her Life

Insistent ringing woke Dawn. Mumbling indistinct curses under her breath, she grabbed the cordless phone she had placed on her nightstand and fumbled a little until she had turned it on and in the correct position against her ear. The good news delivered by Buffy about Manon made her smile, though her sister sounded a bit upset. She didn’t question her though, and returned to cuddling Steven, who had not even stirred. She could have lost him today, she was still all too aware of that. Despite their tiredness, they had proved to each other before falling asleep that they were still full of life, but Dawn felt like she could use a little more reassurance. Softly, she used her lips and fingers to caress him, and soon she had awoken him and his desire again.

The phone woke Faith, and for a second she felt disoriented, trying to remember whose couch she was sleeping on and why. The ringing stopped, which was good since she had no idea where the phone was. Slowly, her memories came back. Memories of coming back to the Summers house with the two kids while the other kid was left in a hospital bed. Memories of the day spent fighting her last fight. Memories of what had been promised to her, what she would have – or rather, what she wouldn’t have – soon. Or maybe even now. Was she still a Slayer? Or just a normal girl? If she hadn’t been so tired, she might have tried breaking something to check. As it was, it could wait until morning.

Both Tara and Willow awoke as the phone rang, but neither moved from the bed into which they had slipped still clothed, having barely had the energy to take their shoes off. They listened as the answering machine picked up the call, and Buffy’s reassurances about the young Slayer made them both happy. Very soon, they were both asleep again.

Xander and Anya were in bed when the phone rang, but they weren’t sleeping yet. They were just talking, softly, about their child and his or her future, about names, and a dozen other things they had avoided talking about while they didn’t know for sure that this world would have a future. Xander picked up the receiver, and relayed to his wife the good news from the hospital. They kept talking until morning came, and watched the sunrise together from the balcony.

They left Giles, Andrea and Manon at the hospital and went home. Angel had not come back from the roof with him, and Spike had no doubt that he was still with Cordelia. Not that he cared. All he cared about now was right here spooned against him in their bed, under their sky, still not asleep. Not asleep even after that too long day. Even after that nerve-wrecking night. Even after they had spent their last shreds of energy making slow and soft love to each other. Even if sunrise was close, as he was suddenly intimately aware of again. She had said it didn’t change anything, but he couldn’t help feeling still that little twinge of fear that everything would indeed change. She had only accepted him and her love for him when she had become a vampire. She had still loved him while they were both human. What would happen now that they were back to the beginning, him vamp, her human?

“Can you feel me?” she asked suddenly, very quiet.

“What luv?”

“Can you feel me inside?” she repeated. “You know, am I still your Mate?”

He brushed a soft kiss to her neck, to his marks, and she shivered.

“Yes luv. You’re right here in my mind. Warming me.”

She was quiet, but still not sleeping, and he had the urge to tell her, explain her.

“The kid got hurt helping me,” he whispered right behind her ear. “If she had died, nothing would have stopped the voices anymore. No good deeds. Not even you, luv. I would have been an insane lunatic, and my guess is you would have put up with me anyway until my pain destroyed you. Couldn’t do that to you. I need you happy.”

He placed a kiss on her ear, and she sighed softly.

“At least,” she said timidly, “your soul won’t torture you now.”

She paused for a second, and added, almost worriedly: “You don’t have your soul, right?”

He managed not to chuckle as he assured her that he was indeed a soulless creature again.

“The guilt is still there though,” he said thoughtfully after an instant. “Not so bad, but still there.”

“But you know what to do about it,” she reminded him gently.

That was an interesting concept. Could he redeem his soul while he didn’t have one? It might be worth asking Cordelia, if she stuck around long enough.

“Buffy… are you disappointed?”

She turned in his embrace to face him, and pressed a warm kiss to his lips.

“I’m sad we won’t get to picnic in the sun anymore, or just walk outside together during the day, or all these little things that I was getting used to. But my Mate is a wonderful, caring man, so no, I am not disappointed.”

Spike let out an unneeded breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and held his Slayer just a little tighter. Soon, the quiet rhythms of her breath and heartbeat told her she had found sleep at last, and he followed her into a deep slumber.

For the first time, Buffy was not surprised to find herself back on the beach where Faith had died and returned to life. She had fallen asleep thinking that she needed to talk to Cordelia, and there they were. The light around them was strange, and she noticed that the sun, halfway down the horizon, was partially covered by the moon, though they were both moving down toward the ocean together like no eclipse possibly could.

Cordelia smiled at her, and invited her with a gesture to sit down in the sand with her.

“I like your way to call me a lot more than Spike’s,” Cordy said with a small laugh.

Buffy frowned at her, a little puzzled, but didn’t question the remark.

“You made him a vampire again,” she stated quietly.

“His idea, not mine,” Cordelia answered seriously. “Though to be honest, he believed I was just going to kill him, not return him to vamphood.”

Buffy took a second to process the thought. He had been ready to die. He had willingly been ready to give his life for Manon.

“Don’t worry, the Powers noticed,” Cordelia said, proving that she was again reading Buffy’s thoughts. “And yes he can still redeem himself even now. He doesn’t need a soul for that.”

She didn’t complain about the intrusion in her mind, and thought about all of it for a while, glad for Cordelia’s silence. A few weeks back, she had known for a fact that she would spend her unlife with Spike, known that, barring accidents, they had centuries in front of them to love each other. A few hours back, she had believed she would live a normal, or almost, human life with him, and create a family. And now… now he was back to being immortal and ageless, while her days were numbered. And no family. Unless…

“Cordy? Am I pregnant?”

The angel didn’t seem surprised by the question, so she must have still been snooping around Buffy’s mind.

“Will it change anything if I tell you that you are?”

Buffy thought about that for an instant. Yes, a lot would be decided by the answer to that simple question.

“You could be,” Cordelia said softly. ”You would have been pretty soon if Spike had remained human. Maybe even tonight. But at this very second, no, you are not pregnant yet.”

Buffy’s thoughts had been a mess so far, but with the certainty that it was only her life in the balance, the decision was suddenly much easier to make.

“Are you sure?” Cordy asked tiredly. “I’m not going to reverse it if you change your mind later. And the only reason I even consider it is that I didn’t ask your opinion before making you human.”

“I am sure,” Buffy said with a nod, though butterflies were fluttering wildly in her stomach. “Better if you do it. I don’t want Spike to get all moody again because I ask him.”

Cordelia sighed. ”Fine. Whatever. It’s your life.”

The sun and moon were disappearing below the horizon, still together. Buffy closed her eyes, and drifted into more restful dreams.

Before leaving the hospital, Spike had stopped to talk to his doctor friend, who was there by a lucky coincidence, and brought home a few human blood bags. He had sipped one before going to bed, but in his dream he felt hungry, which meant that the demon wasn’t quite sated. His Childe was on her knees, and he was thrusting into her from behind. As his climax approached, he buried his fangs into her shoulder, and as the sweet nectar hit his tongue… he woke up. And discovered that his mouth was fastened to Buffy’s neck. It took him only a second more to realize he couldn’t hear her heart. He jerked away from her flesh, appalled that he had killed her in his sleep without even realizing it. The necessary solution presented itself quickly, and, choking on dry tears, he pushed Buffy to her back, slashed his wrist with a fang and pressed it to her parted lips. Would she forgive him for turning her again? Would she understand that it had been an accident? He had to call Red, and pray that she had…

Soft suckling on his wrist pulled him out of his agitated thoughts. She wasn’t supposed to be able to suckle. Not so soon. It wasn’t possible, unless…

“Buffy?” he questioned softly.

She gave a last slow lap at his wrist, before licking her lips clean and plunging her eyes into his.

“Hey there,” she purred. “Thanks for breakfast in bed. Was hungry. You’re yummy.”

Mumbling softly, she draped herself over him, and despite his shock he managed to close his arms around her. Talking was beyond him, though.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you have immortality while I got old and wrinkly, did you?” she said after a moment, her voice teasing.

He finally managed to form coherent thoughts and words.

“You’re a vampire again,” he said simply.

“Not just a vampire,” she whispered as her face came up to look at him. “Your Childe. And your Mate.”

His face must have betrayed his confusion, because she continued, her right hand coming up to trace his features with a featherlike touch.

“If you are to stay in the shadows, I want to be there with you. If you have to drink blood, I want you to take mine. If you get to live forever, I won’t let you do it alone.”

“But you were human again,” he protested softly. “You were so happy…”

“I was happy because you were by my side,” she replied. “You’re still here, so I’m still happy.”

And then it struck him. When he had turned her, three years before, he had imposed his decision on her, taken her life and given her unlife, without listening to her protests, and only later had she accepted it as his gift. This time, it was her choice, made without his opinion or consent, and he was the one who was being offered the greatest gift.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and she kissed them away softly.

“You’re not gonna get all broody on me again, are you?” she asked with feigned worry.

For an answer, he smiled at her. Rolling his body over hers, he let his mouth and hands prove her that brooding was the farthest thing from his mind.