SNOW VIRGINS

Summary:    Post 'Becoming'--AU--Way up North.  Buffy and Spike find mutual grief the strange peacemaker as they stem self destruction and the downward spiral spun from the disaster of Acathla.  Story concludes twenty years later.

*

Next day, that is, their day is night.  Next night.

6 hours from Sunnyhell.
 

She had said nothing for hours.  She had said nothing since coming back from the phone booth pumping change into the metal box-no trace, cash jingling change only, no trace to phone cards, credit cards for these calls.

She had gone casually into three different stores and between them all, bought every different paper local and national and as far intrastate she could get and then finally it was the phone calls.

He waited for her by the car and was on his fourth cigarette.  She had come back. Didn't say a word just got quietly into the passenger side.  Didn't even insist on driving even though it was way her turn.  He got into the drivers side and they drove off and had been driving for at least two hours into the heart of California when:

"One of them is dead."

Didn't need to ask who.  You hoo know who.

And thus began what was probably going to be the most important conversation of his life.
He countered with:

"Which one?"  He was curious is all.

She didn't look at him.

"Head injury.  Cracked skull, brain swelling…Mom and Dad crying, funeral and flowers and 'had I sent some?' and 'thank you if I had--no time yet for notes but don't know everyone Jeremy knew and what's your name again?'…"  She broke off.

"Tosser."  Was all Spike said. 

He took a drag on his cigarette.  Then he decided to add his own epitaph of 'Jeremy: the Tosser'

 "6'4" and a Bully boy, mind you-bet he's been one all his life, never using his strength to help the little bits in the school yard-always the Tosser.  Lunch money, and stolen apples and all and finally goes to war in the backyard of a bar.  Loses himself in a mob.  Let's go of every Sunday lesson on mob say so.  Declares war in a style no better than Angelus-found 'em, found 'em all right there in a mess they made, they made the mess Slayer-I just cleaned up the floor with 'em is all."  

"Spike."  She said his name with such a strange mixture of love and caution he had to take side ways glance at her. 

"Spike, what did you do?" 

"Told you 'an all…"

"He's dead."

Spike looked over his shoulder and then pulled his car over to the side of the road.  He turned off the engine.
He spoke without looking at her.

"They were about to skewer you Buffy.  Make no mistake. I was there…I saw it…I felt it…they set the stakes high, what?  Then play the wanker and run to the cops for law and order?"

"But did you have to…hit them so hard?  One dead, so far, maybe another might die…and…and they're trying to sew it back on but it may not take…you…you ripped off a man's…"

"Oi Eh!  I did at that! And believe me if I felt for you then at that moment even…even…"

Here Spike's voice broke a bit, as he fought for control…

"I held back Buffy; I was bloody circumspect I was!  I know how to use me fists and fangs and if I…felt for you then…even …even a…farthing of what I feel for you now…they'd ALL be dead and they would been hard put to figure which bits went with which coffin.  And now they cry 'Havoc!' (?)  Well Bloody hell!  Fuckin' WANKERS one 'an all.  And to make you feel bad to boot?  Well, as it is I'm of a mind to go back up and teach them all a little respect--"

"-NO!"

"--They crossed me Slayer. I warned 'em an all and they crossed me.  In some circles, enough said."  He lit a cigarette.

Buffy took in a deep breath, the funny thing was, she understood him, she understood his warrior logic but she would have to talk to him in a way that he could relate to.  In his language of ties that bind.  And she was his now.  He had adopted her into his concern, as he was with her-maybe not as extreme but…well vampires, at least this vampire, as she was coming to understand him, certainly felt emotion and loyalty very far into extreme.

"Spike…" She touched his shoulder lightly and moved in a little closer to him.  He waited.

"Spike I can't explain why, I know what you say and what you did makes sense and I…I might have done the same, probably worse…but the thought of hurting human beings, who…well it's in my blood to protect them…so the thought of hurting them more, especially after the fact--despite them all being…well…evil…would hurt me bad Spike.  I don't know why or how but it hurts me so bad when people hurt…"

He turned to look at her, his face open, wide blue eyes drinking hers in; he looked at her, his eyes shining with pride and a little sad resignation too.

"It's cuz you're the Slayer…"

She blinked.

"Slayer's back luv, isn't she then?"

They looked into each other's eyes and then fingers joined the tangle as they wove together.  

"Yeah."

       *

                                                        
Just quiet.  Just driving in the car with no music, just the humming wheels and the sound of the night wind when Spike would roll the window down. Which he would do every half an hour or so.  Roll it down for about ten minutes then roll it back up always asking her casual like but still concerned for all that:

"S 'alright luv? Not too much?" 

She would shake her head looking at him.  Never taking her eyes off him and his every habit and gesture and twitch.

No.  Never too much.

       *       

Mom.

Mommy

"Maybe you should call first."

They were in the Desoto parked the wrong way on the opposite side of the street so Buffy could watch the house on Revello Drive.  So she could house watch.

"She put the Christmas lights up this year.  See those white and blue lights weaving around the porch pillars?  I had to bug her to let me do that last year. She thought it was kinda tacky.  She owns a gallery you know-has a fine eye…but she put them up this year see?  She hated them but she put them up…maybe…cause I liked them…you think?"

Spike was of two minds.
Clearly Buffy wanted to be with her Mum, craved her Mum and he wanted her to be happy to have what she needed.  But.  Obviously it meant once she left the car crossed the street, crossed the threshold, Spike would be crossed out of her life.  He would have to be crossed out.

These past two days on the road had shown him that.  The demands of the demon had increased and indeed his true desire for bloodlust was there.  It was there.  Not toward Buffy.  He had discovered the thought of killing her had been very easily circumvented by thoughts of fucking her.  And thoughts of fucking her were tempered by loving her.

He loved her completely. 

As only he knew his heart was capable. And he also felt this would be his last love.  He knew it.

It was insane and impossible but she was safe from his fangs.  Hurting her would be like an act of suicide.
And he had a strong will to live.  So did she.  That was why they were still here on the planet.

She was safe from his fangs…but other humans weren't.  Even now as he desperately wanted to keep her with him part of him wanted to push her out of the car so he could go kill somebody.

And hurting people would hurt her…fuck, fuck-not enough time, it's all happening so fast and how can anyone change that much so fast?-he need time…

He picked up her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles tenderly.  She turned her body in toward him and stroked the side of his face with her free hand.

No need to say thanks, hurt too terribly to say goodbye.

"Come up with me…"

He shook his head slightly.

"Buffy…" the word was so, so, so soft.

She suddenly pressed her cheek up against his.

Shock.

"Oh…god…"  She breathed, suddenly "Oh…god…"

She wrapped her arms around him he seized her and buried his face in crook of her shoulder.

The horror of goodbye.

Her face buried against his neck and all she could mutter was, "oh god….oh god…no…no…"

"Shhh…shhh…"  He crooned kissed her shoulder her neck her face…her lips…

It wasn't a sweet kiss, it was desperate like two people drowning and each in an avid bid for life was saving, blinding, and pushing the other under the water in turn--it was filled with as much pain as pleasure.  In her whole life, no one would ever, ever be able to kiss her like that again.  She would never allow it--this part of her, the earthy brown haired girl, the real, real, under the golden glam desperate and brave and resolute and kind and crazy and bitchy and broken and healed and sweet virginal brown sugar would belong to Spike.

She leaned in next to his ear and started speaking she had to get it all out fast.

"If you don't come in, can't come in, don't come back, leave here, get out of Sunnydale now, right now, not here please not here can't stand the thought of…just promise me you'll leave and I'll never see you again.."

His breath hitched at that-he was shaking his head against hers-no, no, that was too much, he would have to see her, sneak back maybe…

"Promise me Spike…promise me that I'll never be the one, have to be the one who comes to kill you…"

She grabbed him tight and with her whole soul and slayer strength she would squeeze this promise out of him…

"I will…I'll promise if you do something for me…" in answer she hung on listening "I'll leave and you'll never see me again but if you need me, need help, ever, ever you'll call for me…go to Willies or just think it hard from your heart and I'll hear you I swear I will and then I'll hafta come back…I'll haft to luv…"

He felt her nod against his head and then as she ripped herself out of his arms and he thought he heard her say ("me too, you ever need me…") but maybe not, maybe she just thought it.

Car door slam and she was gone.

He watched her run across the street and up the steps of the house as if once the momentum had begun it was best not to stop, stop to think, stop to go back.

He saw her knock on the door, her shoulders shaking--he recognized the tall woman who came to the door as the axe wielding matron and had to smile.  Like Mother like daughter, like, like…

Joyce stood stunned for just a moment and then grabbed her child crying out a sound that comes only from the empty womb of a Mother.  Primitive and feral and now complete, complete now that child was back child was back…

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy…"

Spike could hear Buffy's muffled sobs breaking against her Mothers breast and thought, good, good…

He started the car and pulled away quickly and even though the Desoto needed a muffler and there was a bit of a tire squeal so wrapped up in her Mother's arms as she was, Buffy never even heard him leave.

*