Their petals had been softer than the richest red velvet, and their perfume held a sweetness the could never be chemically reproduced. They would have instantly filled their recipient with joy because they had to be someone special to receive flowers like these perfect red roses.
Now, the aged petals were stiff and brittle, and the scent that surrounded them was death and decay. The flowers looked like they would crumble to dust at the slightest touch, yet they filled me with an irrational horror I haven’t felt in years.
Or maybe it was the note - a familiar address written in an even more familiar hand. Scrawled under the address was one word - sunset.
I’ve been frozen on my bed for almost three hours, even since I came back from my afternoon class and saw the box resting on my bed. Sunset is less than an hour away, and I’m too scared to move....
*~*
He’s back.
Fuckin’ Christ, he’s back, and he is pissed. Dead roses. I wish I could laugh at his sick sense of poetic humor. The note was short. No poetry there, just and address and one other word - sunset. Funny how six little letters chilled me to the bone.
I should run. I should cut my losses and leave this fucking town once and for all, but I can’t. He’ll hunt me down. He’ll go to the ends of the Earth to retrieve what he thinks belongs to him.
He’s done it before.
Sunset is less than an hour away, and despite what the rest of the world thinks, I really don’t want to die.
*~*
//”Don’t be afraid,” she said.\\
I walked to the mansion on autopilot. If I let myself think about what I’m walking into, I’ll be back in my dorm room, curled in a shaking ball under the covers.
It won’t be long now.
“Slayer?”
I turned sharply, not knowing if I wanted to kiss or kill Spike for giving me a momentary reprieve. Instead of doing either, I asked in a surprisingly calm voice, “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking over my shoulder at the road leading to the mansion. It hit me, and I wanted to cry and scream and curse. “You got a note too, didn’t you?”
My voice was flat. I didn't need to ask. It was written in his unnatural stillness and the rare look of fear in his eyes. Spike was here for the same reason I am. At least we won’t die alone....
The thought failed to comfort me.
“The roses,” he whispered, “I knew as soon as I saw those fucking roses.” He dug through his pockets and pulled out a lighter and a battered pack of cigarettes. I watched silently as he tried to light a cigarette with badly shaking hands.
When scary things get scared, not good. It was only a little over a year ago when Xander said that, but it was still true. Spike was terrified.
We’re going to die.
Somewhere in the distance I heard a howl. The full moon isn’t for another week, so it was probably just a stray. I envy it.
“Are you going in?”
Spike didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
*~*
The door was open, and that surprised me. For all daddy dearest knows, we could have brought the Calvary. Arrogant bastard....
We crossed the threshold warily. The place seemed completely empty. The only sign of life was the fire blazing in the stone hearth. I stopped, but Buffy continued ahead.
This just feels wrong.
“Slayer, stop.”
An instant after the words left my mouth, an icy wind extinguished the fire, and the door slammed shut, effectively trapping us. Before I could blink, Buffy was clawing at the door, pulling at it with every ounce of her Slayer strength.
It didn’t budge.
The scent of blood hit me, ripping me out of my half-daze. I grabbed her, wrapping my arms around her tiny waist and dragged her away from the door before she succeeded in tearing her hands to shreds. She fought me, squirming and sobbing.
I felt like an idiot when I realized that she didn’t know it was me.
I pulled her flush against me and yelled over the swirling winds, hoping to penetrate the frenzy she has worked herself into. “Slayer! Slayer! BUFFY! It’s me!” Buffy didn’t respond.
Feeling incredibly desperate, I did the only thing I could think of. I released Buffy just long enough to turn her in my arms, and I kissed her.
*~*
As soon as Spike’s lips touched mine, the insane terror that had gripped my brain released me. The raging winds were silent. The trouble we were in was forgotten because he was still kissing me. His hands stopped trying to restrain me and began caressing me. I moaned, and he took that advantage to slip his tongue into my mouth.
After what felt like hours, he pulled back. “Are you all right?” he asked suspiciously.
I nodded weakly, then winced as the pain from my cut hands finally registered. A look I’d never seen Spike direct towards me, concern, filled his face. With a gentleness that shocked me, he brought my hand to his face and kissed the lacerated flesh, his tongue sending powerful shudders through my core as he licked the blood from my wounds.
“Well, isn’t this a lovely picture.”
*~*
The sound of his voice was nearly enough to reduce me to the whimpering mass of terror the Slayer had been only seconds ago. Instead, I turned slowing, keeping Buffy behind me, and coolly regarded the one who had called us here.
“Angelus.”
He smirked. “Hello, boy.” Angel slowly began circling us. “So touching, but you both forgot who owns your worthless lives.....”
Angelus continued to ramble on, scaring the shit out of Buffy, if her deathgrip on my arm was any indication, but I had all but tuned him out. Something about him was....off. I couldn’t sense exactly what it was, but it was there. I couldn’t sense it....
Suddenly, it struck me. My bloodlink. I was his childe and bound by blood to the tosser, but I couldn’t feel him. That could only mean... “You aren’t Angel.”
The thing that wasn’t my sire smiled. “Good guess.” In a heartbeat, it dissipated into red smoke and vanished.
*~*
Several incredibly long seconds passed before I regained my voice. “How did you know?” I asked, warily stepping back from Spike.
“We were both too scared to notice that we couldn’t sense him. I’m his childe, and you’re blood-bound to him. When we’re near him, we can feel it. The link wasn’t there.”
Spike’s argument made sense to me, so I accepted it. I glared uselessly at the locked door. “Is there another way out of here?”
Spike shook his head. “Not from here. We’re stuck here until your chums find us.”
All the air went out of the room.
Spike noticed my sudden fear. “They don’t know where you are?”
“No,” I whispered, sinking to the floor.
“Fuck.”
“That about covers it.”
Spike sat down next to me. “We are fucked.”
“Can you stop saying that?” I snapped.
Without replying, Spike jumped up and stripped off his duster.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting us out of here,” Spike answered, carefully ripping the lining of his coat. He pulled back the strip of cloth to reveal a hidden pocket. Grinning with triumph, Spike showed me his prize.
“Lockpicks?”
*~*
Unbeknownst to both the occupants of the room, an ember that had been blown from the fireplace onto the dark curtains was starting to smolder.
*~*
//”No one will know it -
just you and me.”\\
“When was the last time you did this? Maybe we should just trying kicking the door down.”
I resisted the intense urge to snarl at the Slayer. I had spent the last twenty minutes struggling with the lock. “We aren’t kicking the door down because it _can’t_ be kicked down. Angelus may be a lot of things, but he isn’t stupid. He made damn certain that this place was secure.” I threw down the lockpicks and stood up. “And if you think picking locks is so fucking easy you do it!” I stood only inches away from her, seething with fury, and she did the last thing I expected.
“I can think of something I’d rather do,” Buffy purred. Before I could react, she was smashing her lips to mine and wrapping her shapely legs around my waist. Her amorous advances threw me off balance, and, an instant later, we were on the floor.
Pure need coursed through our straining bodies. Swollen lips devoured every inch of bare flesh. Clothes were torn in the desperation to be closer. I rolled over, pinning her under me. Foreplay was forgotten.
I couldn’t help but compare this moment with our few embraces while under Willow’s spell. Compared to this hungry passion, those sweet kisses seemed somewhat lacking.
I buried myself in Buffy’s warm heat and ceased thinking at all.
*~*
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was having the best sex of my life on a cold stone floor with my mortal enemy. Faith would be proud. This was what was missing with Parker and Riley and even Angel. Angel was too gentle. Riley and Parker were just too....human.
This was what I needed.
Something in his eyes told me that what we’re doing was more than meaningless sex. Spike wasn’t fucking me. He was making love to me.
Spike ducked his head and pressed his lips against my throat. His tongue traced the pulsing vein before he sank his fangs into my neck, causing me to instantly climax. He took only a few mouthfuls of blood before stopping. Only seconds later he came with a low moan of my name.
*~*
The flames grew. The orange light flickered over the writhing bodies entwined on the floor. The smoke rose and curled around them, but the lovers were too focused on each other to notice.
*~*
We laid together on the cold floor, basking in the warmth of afterglow. “Buffy, I-”
A loud crash followed by a sudden roar filled the room, as what used to be one of Drusilla’s dollhouses crashed to the floor. We jumped to our feet, staring in horror at the flames that filled the room. Frantically, we scrambled for our clothes. I pulled Buffy with me to the door.
Which was still locked.
“Fuck!” I yelled dropping to my knees and jamming the lockpicks into the door. I tried every trick I had learned over the last two centuries and nothing worked. The flames were growing closer every second.
“It isn’t working, Buffy.” I bowed my head, though I felt like slamming it against the door. “Oh God, we’re gonna die in here.”
“Spike, look at me.” She knelt next to me, and I pulled her into my arms. “If we have to die, at least we aren’t alone.” Her fingers lightly traced my cheek, and that soft touch burned me more than the flames surrounding us. “Kiss me.”
I kissed her. I poured every drop of my love and passion for her into that kiss. I held her close, not breaking it even when I felt the flames lapping at my back, singing my thin shirt and the flesh beneath it. Buffy was wrapped in my coat. I held her, even though I wanted to scream.
As I died, I died holding her.
//And when it’s over
I’ll go back\\
*~*
“I think she’s waking up!”
I opened my eyes, squinting at the blurry images that slowly formed into the faces of my friends. “Where-” I croaked.
“You’re in a hospital, Buffy,” Giles said. “You were in a fire.”
“The mansion. How did you find me?” My throat and eyes burned. Breathing was painful and talking was agony, but I had to know.
“I found the note on your bed,” Willow answered.
Xander smiled faintly. “The doctors said that the trenchcoat was what saved you. It bought you those last few minutes.”
Giles gently took my hand, relief evident on his face. “We got there just in time.”
My voice was little more than a harsh whisper, but they all heard my next words.
