Four Hundred Days
Merry Christmas!
The next part of Four Hundred Days is up at the site now - go, read, review if it doesn't kill the Christmas spirit ;)
Part Twenty-One
~~~ Day Three Hundred And Fifty Two ~~~
The Watcher’s Diary of Jeffery Ackerton
4th July 1873
I did not that night, as you have read, manage to speak again to the Vampire - Spike - on the subject of Mating, but the following one, this night, he sat down in front of me and started to speak. It was as though he wanted me to know. Or more likely, that he had heard my question the night before and had been intrigued by the prospect of such a fascinated audience! One thing I have learnt of this Vampire, other then the obvious fact that he does not act in the way that I had been led, and have indeed led others, to believe vampires acted, is that he loves to talk of himself. Vanity. A most human quality to behold.
At first he just spoke, his tones serious and devoid of any emotion. He explained that Mating was often not interspecies, and it was equivalent to a marriage, though without the option of divorce or infidelity as it was magicks that held the two parties bound, as well as possession. It was only when I brought in Buffy’s name that emotion, yes emotion, suffused his face. It was then that words of love and commitment entered his explanation.
I asked why he had mated with a human, with the Slayer of all humans. I wondered if it were her strength that drew him to her, or the promise of her blood. Surprisingly he agreed that it was, though not in the way I thought. He went on to explain that to Vampire’s consuming blood wasn’t only about being fed, it was about becoming one with the recipient.
Spike continued to explain that while Buffy was his, he was also hers. And that was something no council or demon could break.
This sentiment I believe I can understand. Though it goes against all my teachings, I am inclined to believe him. The sincerity in his eyes is such that no being that is said to contain no emotion could in all honesty produce such intensity of feeling.
But then he went on to say that it was not the strength of the Slayer that drew him to mate with Buffy but the inner strength Elizabeth contained that he saw as William’s equal.
His differentiation of Elizabeth from the Slayer, and William from the Demon was interesting to say the least. It implies that the one principle we have used to hold ourselves higher than the vampires of this world is being called into question in its entirety. It offers, dare I write it, the possibility that when turned Vampires do not lose their souls. And all the more worryingly, when called, Slayer’s do not lose theirs.
As such, can we honestly deny these women, these children, their lives? If they are not the result of magic and demonic possession, how is it that we term them Slayers? How can I continue to live with myself as I put Mary, who I have begun, heedless of the council’s worries, to view as more than just a charge, in danger? She is more like a daughter to me then I can ever imagine my own flesh and blood.
---
Back In Sunnydale…
Giles sat back with a sigh, and slowly closed the book in front of him. His heartstrings tugged for the other Watcher, for he too understood the conflict that was listening to ones own soul whilst still having the council rhetoric breathing down ones neck.
“What I don’t get is why the council hid them.”
Giles jumped about a half a mile in his chair, his hand shooting to his chest as he screamed in fright. He turned to face the doorway where Spike and Buffy stood, wrapped around each other as always, the former in a state of fits, and the latter trying desperately trying not to join her husband.
“Sorry, Giles.” She whispered meekly, afraid that if she spoke any louder she wouldn’t be able to contain her laughter.
“Good Lord, Buffy!” Giles looked disapprovingly at his charge, trying desperately to ignore the still laughing vampire behind her. “What is it you wanted?”
“Just wondering why the council hid them.” Buffy shrugged, still feeling a little sheepish about scaring her watcher. “The diary’s, I mean.”
“Ah.” Giles sat back and removed his glasses from their position, perched on the bridge of his nose, and started to clean them absently as he answered. “I was wondering that myself.” He smiled at her, and watched her relax a little and once again wondered at the way this wonderful girl looked up to him so.
“I believe the council considered them worthy of hiding for two pertinent reasons. Firstly, because they contain references to time travel, which, if it is to be successful, must be hidden at all costs so as to retain the strength of the worldly balance. And secondly, because of their references to Spike.” Giles finished, indicating the vampire with one end of his glasses.
“Me?”
“Ackerton speaks very highly of you.” Giles stated, and watched as pride shone across both his Slayer’s and her Mate’s face. “Also, he theorises that Vampires do in fact keep their souls after turning, based on his interactions with you.” Giles chose not to mention Ackerton’s further thoughts regarding the Slayer. This was a bridge they had yet to cross, and it was one he was not eager to traverse.
“Well, I’m sure we killed it that first time.” Buffy put in quickly, not wanting to allow her Mate a moment to take offence at the theory the other Watcher had put forth...or give Giles a moment to question Spike on it. “You know, so no time-balance worry thing.” She explained.
Noticing his Mate’s desire for a diversion, Spike added. “We definitely killed it the second time.”
Buffy nodded. “What with the dismemberment and decapitation rolled into one. Well, we’re Bronzing, bye Giles!” Buffy called out as she quickly pulled her husband out of the room.
Giles watched them go, an amused smile lingering on his lips before he turned back to the diary once more and allowed himself to be lost in another time.
~~~ Day Three Hundred And Ninety-Three ~~~
“…gonna get it, pet!” Spike crowed up to her, half-amused, half-impressed by her perched position on the top of the bookshelf in front of him.
“Talking ‘bout yourself again, Bleach Boy?” Buffy crowed, smirking down on him as she borrowed one of Xander’s surprisingly oft-used phrases to taunt her husband. A shiver of pleasure, that did not go unnoticed by Spike, travelled through her at the knowledge that such a title was no longer a lie.
They had been sent up on a most important mission to retrieve the last pile of books on time travelling demons, but had gotten a little distracted on the way. The moment they were out of sight Spike had pounced on Buffy, who was leading, taking possession of her mouth with years of mastery under his belt. His tongue swept across her lips, demanding passage to her mouth which he was granted admission to with pleasure.
Finally where he wanted to be, Spike dipped and swirled the much talented organ within his lover, causing the uprising of the most delicious moans he had ever heard in all his years. Her hands had slid around his neck, her fingers coming to rest against its base before they took up the much coveted job of running passionately through his surprisingly soft locks.
But suddenly she had changed the game. Her fingers tightened in his hair, tugging almost painfully on the ends as she forced his mouth from hers. A flash of her mischievous eyes was all the warning he had before quick as a cobra she struck. With his full bottom lip poised in such a vulnerable position, Spike was helpless to do anything but watch as her unforgiving teeth came down on the kiss flushed flesh, drawing blood.
And then she was off…
And the chase had begun!
Together they had torn about the stacks, rampantly involved in an odd foreplay of sorts as the fought and kissed intermittently. However it was on one very impressive flip out of Spike’s arms and away from his seductive mouth that Buffy found herself where she was at this very instant in time; stuck precariously on the ceiling, with her left foot and hand balancing on one bookcase and her right foot and hand on the adjacent one.
Spike was just about to continue their playful banter when a look of fear flashed in Buffy’s eyes that he didn’t understand. Suddenly something began to creak. Buffy screeched at the exact same moment that Spike pounced and together they crashed through three lines of shelves sending books and papers flying everywhere.
Finally through luck and preternatural strength alone they managed to stop their fall just a meter from the floor. While the dust and disturbed cobwebs continued to settle across and around their bodies, Spike lifted his face from its comfortable position against his Slayer’s neck and grinned down at her.
“Want to go again?”
Caught between screaming and laughing at him, Buffy chose the second option and giggled watching lovingly as Spike’s face lit up at the sound.
“I can’t believe you jumped!” Buffy berated him through another giggle, ignoring the pain shooting in her arms and legs in order to continue the conversation. “Did you not hear the wood begin to give?!”
Spike had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, pet. Just wanted to get you underneath me.” He let his tongue curl under his teeth as he wiggled his eye brows at her causing her to erupt in giggles which sent messages straight to his groin.
Unable to help himself he ground himself down against her, delighting in the moan of pleasure that escaped her throat. However, the moment was short lived as the movement sent them down another four shelves until they were resting just one shelf off the ground.
“Okay.” Buffy took command. “Escape evil shelves now, canoodle later.” She decided.
“I do not canoodle.” Spike declared, looking suitably offended at the mere suggestion that such an evil creature as he would…canoodle.
“You so do.” Buffy grinned at his displeasure and continued to tease him mercilessly. “And you purr!”
“I do not…” Spike’s forceful voice trailed off as something beneath Buffy, just above her head, caught his eye.
“What?” Buffy tried to turn her head to catch a glimpse of what had so caught her husband’s attention, but was too well trapped under his body to facilitate such a movement.
“I don’t believe it.” Spike continued, unaware of his Mate’s ever-growing irritation.
“Whaaat!” Buffy cried, still wriggling under his body, causing certain parts of it to jump to attention without his permission.
Spike groaned and quickly used his hips to stop her movement before he did something silly…like shag her into the ground when they really need to deal with this discovery.
“What Spike!”
The vehemence in his lover’s tone woke him from his daze and slowly he lifted his weight off her body, allowing her to turn enough so that she too could see their discovery.
“Oh…”
“We found it.” There was an odd tone to Spike’s voice that Buffy couldn’t quite decipher, and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
They were suddenly jolted out of their moment of singular contemplation at the sudden arrival of a not at all panting Slayer and a very much panting Watcher. The two new arrivals simply stared down at the two that they had, in some cases gradually, come to know as friends in complete shock.
Covered in paper, dust and deceased spider’s homes, surrounded in a mess that Mabel was sure to murder them both for, Buffy and Spike were still held, only barely, by the final shelf of the book case, but half a meter off the ground.
When the Watcher and Slayer seemed to be able to do nothing but stare in amazement Buffy spoke up meekly. “Uh, help?”
The sight of the mighty Slayer and Vampire Mates dusty and looking quite sheepish was too much for the oft reserved pair to take. And the two burst out laughing.
To Be Continued…
A/N: Merry Christmas!
The next part of Four Hundred Days is up at the site now - go, read, review if it doesn't kill the Christmas spirit ;)
Part Twenty-One
~~~ Day Three Hundred And Fifty Two ~~~
The Watcher’s Diary of Jeffery Ackerton
4th July 1873
I did not that night, as you have read, manage to speak again to the Vampire - Spike - on the subject of Mating, but the following one, this night, he sat down in front of me and started to speak. It was as though he wanted me to know. Or more likely, that he had heard my question the night before and had been intrigued by the prospect of such a fascinated audience! One thing I have learnt of this Vampire, other then the obvious fact that he does not act in the way that I had been led, and have indeed led others, to believe vampires acted, is that he loves to talk of himself. Vanity. A most human quality to behold.
At first he just spoke, his tones serious and devoid of any emotion. He explained that Mating was often not interspecies, and it was equivalent to a marriage, though without the option of divorce or infidelity as it was magicks that held the two parties bound, as well as possession. It was only when I brought in Buffy’s name that emotion, yes emotion, suffused his face. It was then that words of love and commitment entered his explanation.
I asked why he had mated with a human, with the Slayer of all humans. I wondered if it were her strength that drew him to her, or the promise of her blood. Surprisingly he agreed that it was, though not in the way I thought. He went on to explain that to Vampire’s consuming blood wasn’t only about being fed, it was about becoming one with the recipient.
Spike continued to explain that while Buffy was his, he was also hers. And that was something no council or demon could break.
This sentiment I believe I can understand. Though it goes against all my teachings, I am inclined to believe him. The sincerity in his eyes is such that no being that is said to contain no emotion could in all honesty produce such intensity of feeling.
But then he went on to say that it was not the strength of the Slayer that drew him to mate with Buffy but the inner strength Elizabeth contained that he saw as William’s equal.
His differentiation of Elizabeth from the Slayer, and William from the Demon was interesting to say the least. It implies that the one principle we have used to hold ourselves higher than the vampires of this world is being called into question in its entirety. It offers, dare I write it, the possibility that when turned Vampires do not lose their souls. And all the more worryingly, when called, Slayer’s do not lose theirs.
As such, can we honestly deny these women, these children, their lives? If they are not the result of magic and demonic possession, how is it that we term them Slayers? How can I continue to live with myself as I put Mary, who I have begun, heedless of the council’s worries, to view as more than just a charge, in danger? She is more like a daughter to me then I can ever imagine my own flesh and blood.
---
Back In Sunnydale…
Giles sat back with a sigh, and slowly closed the book in front of him. His heartstrings tugged for the other Watcher, for he too understood the conflict that was listening to ones own soul whilst still having the council rhetoric breathing down ones neck.
“What I don’t get is why the council hid them.”
Giles jumped about a half a mile in his chair, his hand shooting to his chest as he screamed in fright. He turned to face the doorway where Spike and Buffy stood, wrapped around each other as always, the former in a state of fits, and the latter trying desperately trying not to join her husband.
“Sorry, Giles.” She whispered meekly, afraid that if she spoke any louder she wouldn’t be able to contain her laughter.
“Good Lord, Buffy!” Giles looked disapprovingly at his charge, trying desperately to ignore the still laughing vampire behind her. “What is it you wanted?”
“Just wondering why the council hid them.” Buffy shrugged, still feeling a little sheepish about scaring her watcher. “The diary’s, I mean.”
“Ah.” Giles sat back and removed his glasses from their position, perched on the bridge of his nose, and started to clean them absently as he answered. “I was wondering that myself.” He smiled at her, and watched her relax a little and once again wondered at the way this wonderful girl looked up to him so.
“I believe the council considered them worthy of hiding for two pertinent reasons. Firstly, because they contain references to time travel, which, if it is to be successful, must be hidden at all costs so as to retain the strength of the worldly balance. And secondly, because of their references to Spike.” Giles finished, indicating the vampire with one end of his glasses.
“Me?”
“Ackerton speaks very highly of you.” Giles stated, and watched as pride shone across both his Slayer’s and her Mate’s face. “Also, he theorises that Vampires do in fact keep their souls after turning, based on his interactions with you.” Giles chose not to mention Ackerton’s further thoughts regarding the Slayer. This was a bridge they had yet to cross, and it was one he was not eager to traverse.
“Well, I’m sure we killed it that first time.” Buffy put in quickly, not wanting to allow her Mate a moment to take offence at the theory the other Watcher had put forth...or give Giles a moment to question Spike on it. “You know, so no time-balance worry thing.” She explained.
Noticing his Mate’s desire for a diversion, Spike added. “We definitely killed it the second time.”
Buffy nodded. “What with the dismemberment and decapitation rolled into one. Well, we’re Bronzing, bye Giles!” Buffy called out as she quickly pulled her husband out of the room.
Giles watched them go, an amused smile lingering on his lips before he turned back to the diary once more and allowed himself to be lost in another time.
~~~ Day Three Hundred And Ninety-Three ~~~
“…gonna get it, pet!” Spike crowed up to her, half-amused, half-impressed by her perched position on the top of the bookshelf in front of him.
“Talking ‘bout yourself again, Bleach Boy?” Buffy crowed, smirking down on him as she borrowed one of Xander’s surprisingly oft-used phrases to taunt her husband. A shiver of pleasure, that did not go unnoticed by Spike, travelled through her at the knowledge that such a title was no longer a lie.
They had been sent up on a most important mission to retrieve the last pile of books on time travelling demons, but had gotten a little distracted on the way. The moment they were out of sight Spike had pounced on Buffy, who was leading, taking possession of her mouth with years of mastery under his belt. His tongue swept across her lips, demanding passage to her mouth which he was granted admission to with pleasure.
Finally where he wanted to be, Spike dipped and swirled the much talented organ within his lover, causing the uprising of the most delicious moans he had ever heard in all his years. Her hands had slid around his neck, her fingers coming to rest against its base before they took up the much coveted job of running passionately through his surprisingly soft locks.
But suddenly she had changed the game. Her fingers tightened in his hair, tugging almost painfully on the ends as she forced his mouth from hers. A flash of her mischievous eyes was all the warning he had before quick as a cobra she struck. With his full bottom lip poised in such a vulnerable position, Spike was helpless to do anything but watch as her unforgiving teeth came down on the kiss flushed flesh, drawing blood.
And then she was off…
And the chase had begun!
Together they had torn about the stacks, rampantly involved in an odd foreplay of sorts as the fought and kissed intermittently. However it was on one very impressive flip out of Spike’s arms and away from his seductive mouth that Buffy found herself where she was at this very instant in time; stuck precariously on the ceiling, with her left foot and hand balancing on one bookcase and her right foot and hand on the adjacent one.
Spike was just about to continue their playful banter when a look of fear flashed in Buffy’s eyes that he didn’t understand. Suddenly something began to creak. Buffy screeched at the exact same moment that Spike pounced and together they crashed through three lines of shelves sending books and papers flying everywhere.
Finally through luck and preternatural strength alone they managed to stop their fall just a meter from the floor. While the dust and disturbed cobwebs continued to settle across and around their bodies, Spike lifted his face from its comfortable position against his Slayer’s neck and grinned down at her.
“Want to go again?”
Caught between screaming and laughing at him, Buffy chose the second option and giggled watching lovingly as Spike’s face lit up at the sound.
“I can’t believe you jumped!” Buffy berated him through another giggle, ignoring the pain shooting in her arms and legs in order to continue the conversation. “Did you not hear the wood begin to give?!”
Spike had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, pet. Just wanted to get you underneath me.” He let his tongue curl under his teeth as he wiggled his eye brows at her causing her to erupt in giggles which sent messages straight to his groin.
Unable to help himself he ground himself down against her, delighting in the moan of pleasure that escaped her throat. However, the moment was short lived as the movement sent them down another four shelves until they were resting just one shelf off the ground.
“Okay.” Buffy took command. “Escape evil shelves now, canoodle later.” She decided.
“I do not canoodle.” Spike declared, looking suitably offended at the mere suggestion that such an evil creature as he would…canoodle.
“You so do.” Buffy grinned at his displeasure and continued to tease him mercilessly. “And you purr!”
“I do not…” Spike’s forceful voice trailed off as something beneath Buffy, just above her head, caught his eye.
“What?” Buffy tried to turn her head to catch a glimpse of what had so caught her husband’s attention, but was too well trapped under his body to facilitate such a movement.
“I don’t believe it.” Spike continued, unaware of his Mate’s ever-growing irritation.
“Whaaat!” Buffy cried, still wriggling under his body, causing certain parts of it to jump to attention without his permission.
Spike groaned and quickly used his hips to stop her movement before he did something silly…like shag her into the ground when they really need to deal with this discovery.
“What Spike!”
The vehemence in his lover’s tone woke him from his daze and slowly he lifted his weight off her body, allowing her to turn enough so that she too could see their discovery.
“Oh…”
“We found it.” There was an odd tone to Spike’s voice that Buffy couldn’t quite decipher, and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
They were suddenly jolted out of their moment of singular contemplation at the sudden arrival of a not at all panting Slayer and a very much panting Watcher. The two new arrivals simply stared down at the two that they had, in some cases gradually, come to know as friends in complete shock.
Covered in paper, dust and deceased spider’s homes, surrounded in a mess that Mabel was sure to murder them both for, Buffy and Spike were still held, only barely, by the final shelf of the book case, but half a meter off the ground.
When the Watcher and Slayer seemed to be able to do nothing but stare in amazement Buffy spoke up meekly. “Uh, help?”
The sight of the mighty Slayer and Vampire Mates dusty and looking quite sheepish was too much for the oft reserved pair to take. And the two burst out laughing.
To Be Continued…
A/N: Merry Christmas!