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Princes to the noir	By : rogiari Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 2983 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
3. The harsh light of day.

Menstrual blood…yadda yadda…Big Mother Wicca…yadda yadda…moon phases…Willow yawned surreptitiously behind the ad with the details for the yearly Ostara gathering, the winter equinox predating Easter. On the other side of the magical circle Tara gazed at her with sweet, seductive eyes. Willow batted her eyelashes and smiled. The night, at least, would be a pleasant one, in such delightful company.
“Well, that’s all!” the President of the local Wiccan group was satisfied with the activity held at Sunnydale University. “Don’t forget your propitious rituals for Beltane!”
Willow yawned again.
“It’s not that bad, really” Tara whispered, taking her by the arm and leading her outside, into the springtime evening and its perfumes. “It’s a question of…perspective. A real witch makes spells…a Wiccan prays, prepares a ritual…and then she uses her hands, like everybody else”
“That’s the point!” Willow exclaimed. “I know how to make spells. The real deal…the terrible ones. Why in the world should I pray to a goddess I don’t believe in…by the way I’m Jewish…and… work hard? Did I tell you about that time I gave the two most dangerous vampires their souls back…”
“Only a thousand times” Tara teased her sweetly. “Didn’t you think maybe a higher power than yours was in action, then, and it wanted you to succeed?”
“No” Willow replied
“They’re acting for the good, now”
“That’s all because of me”
“Willow…”
“All right” the redhead nodded. “I paid for it. My relationship with Buffy…it has changed. The story with Oz ended, I met you…hey, as you see, it all ended well, after all”
Tara stared at her. Her sweet grey eyes sometimes looked sad.
“Just the same, sometimes I miss you”
“What do you mean?”
“A part of you doesn’t belong to me, Will. And it doesn’t belong to your friends, either. I think it’s part of the reason Oz left. You need to understand whether…”
“Stay with me tonight” Willow asked abruptly.
“I can’t. Tomorrow I have an English paper, and I’m depending on it for my scholarship. I’m sorry…”
“You don’t know how sorry I am” Willow replied. “Walk me back to my dorm, at least. Buffy isn’t there. She is at her mother’s. We’ll meet her tonight, at the Bronze”
“All right” Tara agreed, embracing her. Willow raised her head and allowed Tara’s full lips to wander on hers.
Tara laughed.
“You kiss weird”
“What do you mean?” Willow frowned.
“You don’t kiss…like a lesbian does. You’re waiting for me to possess you…you want to be dominated, sexually. You want me to be the man. Darling, I’m a woman”
“I know”
“No, you don’t” Tara smiled. “Your lips don’t know it” Tara lowered her voice: they were next to the dorm’s entrance and she didn’t want to wake anybody. “And your sex doesn’t know it, either. You’ve never come, not even once”
“That’s not true!” Willow lied. “I always come. I just need you to touch me, and…”
“It’s not enough for you” Tara rushed. “There’s nothing bad about it. You’re heterosexual. I guess you prefer a man’s sex to all the petting in the world”
“That doesn’t explain why I stay with you, mmm?”
“That’s because I love you so much. You can’t help loving me back. Amor che a nullo amato amar perdona… And I’m the only one you can do spells with, nowadays.”
“Mr. Giles has locked all his books away” Willow complained. “And Buffy doesn’t want to hear the least mention of magic”
“Buffy is a wise girl. A bit cold, self–centred…but wise”
“She wasn’t always like that. She used to be happy, merry, full of life”
“Then she fell in love with two vampires…and she restored their souls. And they left her”
Willow pouted.
“How in the world did we end up talking about this? We were discussing my orgasms…”
Tara laughed. “I got it! I’ll buy you a vibrator”
Willow laughed too, as her girlfriend…lover?….left. She recalled an old episode of “Sex and the city” where one of the girls, the brunette, flirted with a group of lesbians, attracted by their obvious power and glamour. At a certain point, they had been blunt: “Either you eat pussy, or you don’t”. And she had left. Kyle Mc Lachlan was waiting for her at home.
Sighing, Willow mounted the stairs. She wondered why she had always been so easy to read. What was her power for if even Tara, shy Tara, could see through her like an open book? As she toyed with her keys, long, cool fingers circled her wrist. A cool mouth slid over her bare neck, sharp teeth grazing her skin, causing her a long shiver.
Willow relaxed against his chest, until he spoke. His deep baritone voice caressed her ears.
“You tell your wishes to the stars, pet, and they come true…because I’m back”

Los Angeles library wasn’t the most fun place in the world for a twenty–four year old girl to be on a Saturday night.
But Winifred Burkle of Austin, Texas, usually called Fred, spent all her nights there, in the Science and Technology Department, studying for her Ph. D. in Physics and earning her living…and her bus fare.
She didn’t have any fun in her small apartment, either. At all. Fred knew how to use her pencil. She was a gold medallist in sharpening it, so she could fill pages and pages with numbers and symbols. The green lamp reflected back her image: a slim girl, a bit taller than average, with long, wavy curls and dark eyes, made softer by her glasses. Her aunt in Houston described her as an “Audrey Hepburn wannabe, without her pros and with all of her cons”. Kind of her.
”God, yes!” she said, glancing at her watch. Five minutes to ten. It was closing time.
Now she was alone. Nobody else around, on a Saturday night, in the Library’s Science and Technology Department.
She opened the drawer with shaking hands. She had the only key. She kept in there some notes, her pencils, her sharpener…and the piece of poetry.
But the real prize was something else.
Fred slid her nimble fingers to the bottom of the drawer. The reader’s card was there.
She examined it carefully in the soft light.
“William Shelby” was written there boldly, in an odd looking calligraphy, like that of a dead poet. It looked like an item from the nineteenth century. But it wasn’t. The photo attached was the essence of modernity. A young Caucasian man, very pale, with a well chiselled face, deep eyes under dark eyebrows, eyes that looked a dark shade of blue, and bleached hair, like an 80’s punk.
Fred closed her eyes.
Those cheekbones…her bloody poet.
A few days before he had absentmindedly bumped into her. She knew him: he sometimes came into the library. The poems had fallen to the floor and she had picked them, and kept them. They were wonderful.
All right, she knew nothing about poetry. She was a scientist, it was not her cup of tea. But the lyrics had caught her attention. They talked about lost loves, and souls, and she had wandered through the perfect metre. Doing her first illegal act in three years of hard work in that library, she had spent a whole day browsing through the membership files looking for his reader card.
And she had taken it. They could fire her for that.
And now she had it in front of her. The card. And the lyrics.
When would he be back?
Fred put the poems and the card in her pocket, switched off the PC, then the lights, and went out into the night.
Soon, she hoped, he will be here again.
She took a cab to her professor’s house for the beginning-of-semester party. She had her doctorate thesis to discuss with him. Unfortunately, that endless day hadn’t ended yet.

“So…you’re back”
“You got it right” Spike nodded, relaxing back in the armchair and stretching his legs. “God, Red, show me some enthusiasm”
“Buffy will have a stroke, when she knows” Willow observed, pacing nervously up and down the room.
“There’s no need for her to know. Not for now, at least”
“And…your intentions?”
Spike fished cigarettes and lighter out of the duster. Willow reproached him with her eyes, and he rolled his eyes at her. He contented himself with playing with his lighter.
“To fight Evil. To save innocents. Yadda Yadda”
“Really?”
“Really. Cross my heart. And now come here”
Pouting, Willow sat down on his knee, arms around his neck. With her slim fingers she caressed his hair ….and her golden eyes probed the vampire’s blue ones. “You’re still in love with her”
“Yeah” he admitted. “Tell me something I don’t know”
“And…Angelus….”
“Him, too, I guess. But now he goes by the name of Angel. If only that was enough to forget who we are…”
“And….you are…who?”
“The most important question is what we are. We are not human, Willow. We dress like them, we walk through the world, but we are creatures of the night…bad teeth, bad instincts. Bad blood”
Willow moved on his lap, and smiled as she sensed his unmistakable reaction. “But now you’re on the way to sainthood…”
“Who told you that?” Spike whispered, toying with his fangs on the soft skin of her long, graceful neck.
“Spike…” she moaned.
“Shh…we’re not doing anything, now. Nowadays you’re more attracted by ladies…I see”
Willow stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
“That sweet piece of pastry with large, beautiful eyes and creamy skin. A perfect choice. I bet she’s still a virgin”
“You win. She discovered at fourteen she was attracted to women”
“Do you love her?”
“Do you care?”
Spike leaned over to her and whispered something in her ear.
Willow burst into a bout of laugher.
“You’re mad”
“Maybe. Will you think about it?”
“No, I won’t. I must have got something wrong the day I gave you your soul back”
“Darling, I haven’t thanked you properly, yet”
“Do it …now”
“You know you’re turning me on, don’t you? Tell me instead what’s been happening in Sunnydale. Big Bad, Faith the trashy slayer and Slutty the vampire lover included”
“Wilkins, the Mayor, tried to ascend to a pure demonic form. Faith was his ally…but Buffy was hell bent on preventing it. She was astounding”
“My slayer” Spike murmured, proudly. “No one like her, against the big bad wannabe. And Faithy?”
“There was an OK Corral moment between the two of them…Faith fled, but with a knife deep in her gut. Now she is a free agent”
“You mean a danger. Wilkins?”
“Destroyed. With good old dynamite”
“Your boyfriend? Wolfy guy?”
“Ex”
“He never got over the shock of finding you on your knees in front of Xander Harris, uh?”
“Something like that” Willow admitted, already regretting having told him that during that endless night before…he got his soul back.
“He got the short end of it. What a dickhead!”
“Spike!”
“Com’on! You walk the wild walk, and a bad word frightens you?”
“Don’t be impertinent, Sir William”
“The watcher?”
“You can give him your greetings personally. He lives in a small condo a short walk from here…he’s still Buffy’s watcher but…obviously, their relationship is strained. After he discovered her…well, our role in Jenny’s death and in the soul spell, he resigned. The Council gave Buffy a new watcher, Wesley Wyndam–Pryce….and he lasted no more than three months. Buffy threw a tantrum and demanded Giles back…”
“And ole Rupie came back”
“Right. They didn’t exchange a word for a couple of months…but now they work together just fine. Not with the old flair, of course. A lot of things have changed”
“And…the other Watcher?”
“For a bit he tried to dominate Faith”
“And …then?”
“She tortured him almost to death. And now he’s chasing her across the States”
“Wily Coyote and Beep Beep?”
“Something like that”
“I see in your eyes dear Faith is not your best pal. What did she do to you?” Spike noticed, staring at her.
Willow pouted again.
“She took Xander’s cherry”
Spike laughed heartily.
Willow aimed his fist at his face, very weakly, and Spike embraced her. Looking down at her, he smiled.
“Do you want me….to go?”
“No” she whispered.
“Well. I’ll stay, then”
“Good. It’s still early, after all. In a couple of hours we’ll be meeting up at the Bronze. Buffy will be there”
Spike froze.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that”
“She’s always talking about you”
“I don’t believe that” Spike smiled sadly.
“You have to. She only talks about you with me, obviously…but she does. I’m sure she misses you. There’s been nobody else in her life, since you left. Only one high school fling, and that didn’t last more than a few days”
“And…Angel?”
“She never talks about him”
Spike smiled again. Quietly, he slid her off his lap and straightened up. “I’ve changed my mind. It’s time I left”
“You’ll come, won’t you? To the Bronze, I mean”
“I’ll come. But I’ll be in the shadows. For now, I just want to see her…to know she is all right”
Willow sat on the bed, one leg bent under her, her large eyes staring at him, her teeth sunk deep in her pouting lip, enough to draw blood.
“Spike…”
“Yeah?” He asked, his hand on the handle of the open door, his eyes hypnotized by that crimson drop.
It had been more than two years…more than two years without human blood. Two years! Two years without his natural nourishment…Oh God, how he missed the smell, the taste!
“Stay” she insisted, her eyes dripping with promises.
Spike kicked the door closed, and jumped over to Willow, stretched out on her tight, narrow bed.
“You’re a witch, indeed” he whispered, before vamping out, almost without noticing.

Lights and bodies and sweat at the Bronze. People danced, others stayed on the sidelines, others went to the rest room, some flirted. Buffy danced with her new boyfriend wannabe. Medium height and build, black hair, big blue eyes. Not even a bit like them. So sensitive…so human.
Buffy danced on the floor as she had always danced, her miniskirt riding up against her thighs, her hair falling down her back to the waist, blonde shining hair. Her eyes closed, waiting for the cool caress of a lost lover…
“Hey, Buff!” Xander called after her, passing through the crowd with his beautiful, slim girlfriend.
“Xan! Anya!” she smiled, touching her companion lightly on the shoulder. “My friends are here”
He smiled, politely, and Buffy introduced him to them. “This is Parker. We go to the same canteen, what a coincidence, uh? Parker, this is Xander, a friend from High School, and his girlfriend Anya”
They all exchanged pleasantries.
“Have you seen Willow?” Xander asked.
“I haven’t yet. But she’ll come”
Parker took Buffy’s hand and led her to one of the more secluded couches. “You’re such a beautiful girl” he whispered, shyly, caressing her hand lightly. “You’re amazing. Were you this cute in High School, too?”
“My hair was shorter…and I was overweight” she smiled. “Well, sort of, but…”
“I’m honoured to know you, Buffy Summers. You really enrich my inner journey”
She smiled, uncertainly, gaping at him, seduced by his evident interest. And then, God, she was a freshman, after all!
And he wasn’t.
“I’d like this night to be timeless” he whispered, leaning over to her. Buffy closed her eyes a moment too late, but nevertheless their lips met. He was very sweet, and chaste, and he didn’t use his tongue.
Frustrated, Buffy thought of the desert her love life had been in the last two years.
Enforced chastity. A single boyfriend, Scott Hope, who had broken with her scornfully after the third date.
Between studies, her mother’s grievances, not to mention those of her Watcher, her friends, the fight against Faith and Mayor Wilkins…well, she hadn’t had a lot of time for love. Not to mention for sex.
She really didn’t even desire it. She just wanted…what she couldn’t have.
But things were changing. She was in College, now, new semester, new life, and maybe she could leave her memories to the past. Maybe Parker Abrams could be a good new beginning.
“Chinese Burn” started to resonate on the dance floor, and Buffy smiled. It was the song she had danced to with Faith, causing more than one heart attack in the Bronze. Old times, B.
“Do you want to dance?” Parker asked her, suavely. “It seems to me you can’t stop your feet from moving”
“Why not?” she smiled, and they both returned to the dance floor.

The predator stared at her from afar, his eyes on her, full of wonder.
She was the same.
Only more beautiful, all grown up, more a woman than a girl. Her hair was longer, there was something sour in the line of her lips, notwithstanding the cute smile she dedicated to her partner, and he was oh – so – inadequate…so unworthy of her…Oh, Buffy…
His heart, his soul, who knew…all of his essence hurt in seeing her again. Even the fresh human blood, vibrating with magic, on his lips called to her…He wanted only one thing: to bury himself, all of himself, into her, fangs and member, hands and mouth, to take and partake, to give, to possess, to be possessed…to put himself again, dangerously, wonderfully, in her hands, asking for her mercy, beholding her dark power…
No one better than the three of them had danced that dance, ever. That of vampires and slayer.
Angel was right. He could only stay away from her. They had to stay away from her.
Fuck Angel.
Willow arrived out of breath on the dance floor, a silk scarf on her neck and a colourful dress, which balanced the paleness of her cheeks. Buffy had never seen her like that, and that contrast became her in a mysterious way. “I have to talk with you” Willow whispered, and the slayer tried to disengage her attention from Parker.
“I’m sorry” she mouthed.
“Don’t worry” he smiled. “I’ll get a diet coke”
Buffy followed Willow to the edge of the room.
“What’s up?” she asked. “Apocalypse coming my way?”
“No” Willow replied. “But some trouble anyway. An old friend of you has just arrived…”Willow turned her head, sensing his presence. She knew it now: blood was a link. She noticed him, at last: the vampire, in the shadows, was looking at them. Ha had to know she was revealing his arrival. He saw Buffy moving her eyes around her. Was she looking for him?
“Faith? Is she back?” The Slayer’s eyes hardened.
“No. But you…do you really have to stay glued to that Parker? I heard stories, about him. They say he is a womaniser. Especially with the youngest girls…I’d be careful, if you know what I mean”
“No problem. We’ll give him back his soul. Ha-ha” Buffy joked.
Willow froze.
“You’re in a bad mood, tonight” Buffy noticed. “Let’s go, I’m having fun! Don’t I deserve it, after all of the problems I ‘ve had in the last two years?”
“Yeah, but…I’d advise you to…”
“Buffy!” Parker intruded. “It’s getting late. They close the doors at eleven at my dorm”
“Well, let’s go, then” she smiled.
Dazed, Willow stepped back.
Buffy smiled again, and put her arm around Parker’s waist. He leaned over to her, and kissed her.
This time, openly, brazenly, opening her lips, toying with them. She smiled and deepened the kiss. She smiled even more when his fingers slid on her breast.
Spike looked at them, from his hiding place, his jaw set, trying to digest this umpteenth disappointment.
“What a bitch”

Bedazzled and confused by the noisy crowd, Fred acted like the wallflower she was thought to be and sat quietly in a corner of the party. She didn’t feel at ease, as usual, in this type of gathering: her nondescript shoes and her plain pullover had nothing on the Prada accessories flying around. What am I doing here? She asked herself. Professor Seidel wandered like a bee through flowers, satisfied with his successful party. Glamour and big brains, what more could you ask from a social occasion? That was not bad for the West Coast…all right, not a lot of Ivy League material all around, but the mix could work well enough.
Apart from Fred…
He really couldn’t stand such shows of intellectual over-confidence…
“Fred, my dear” he stepped over to her, showing his teeth in a broad smile which warred with his cold, snakelike eyes.
She smiled back, shyly, and put down the drink, adjusting her glasses.
“I’d like to talk to you. Could you follow me for a moment into my office?”
She nodded, happier. The sooner they talked, the sooner she could leave that horrible party where everybody looked like models, not scientists.
The Professor’s room opened on the sparkling Los Angeles skyline. On the wall opposite the window there was a sort of ancient drawing. It seemed to be a carving of three stylised animals: they looked like a wolf, a ram and a hart.
Wolf, Ram and Hart.
Yep, that was it.
“I’m very…”
“…Satisfied?” Fred asked nervously, with a giggle.
“Not nearly” the Professor replied. “I think the word I was looking for is irritated”
“Ah”
“I don’t like ambitious students who try to shine at the expense of their teachers. And that’s exactly what you did, my dear, during last week’s seminar. I had asked you not to quote our latest theories about spatial – temporal continuum density…hadn’t I?”
“Yes, Professor Seidel, but I just wanted to…strengthen your thesis, which…otherwise…”
“I didn’t provide enough support for my thesis? That’s what you mean? You could have done it better?”
Fred stuttered. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought that…”
Professor Seidel raised a hand. “There are places, missy, where people like you find answers. Please pick up that book”
The volume was ancient, its leather cover burnt. On the cover there was a carving of a wolf. The same wolf as the drawing on the wall.
“Open it. Any page will do. Read a sentence”
Fred was too shocked from the reprimand to think clearly. She obeyed.
She opened the heavy volume.
It was written in a strange language, devoid of vowels.
“Please” He insisted, glancing nervously at his watch. His guests were waiting for him.
She read, stuttering on the strange, apparently meaningless words.
. “hjhklwrtqtbnmnwrtykl”
A violent lightning sparkled around her.
And then she opened her eyes, dazed, after an endless moment of oblivion.
The light of the suns hurt her eyes. So harsh, so real.
Hey, wait a second.
Suns? Three?
Fred let herself fall to the floor, on the soft grassy round in a green green world lit by three suns.
A world which couldn’t be hers.

To make love.
Nobody relished that thought more than Buffy Summers.
The idea of a male body between her hands, her thighs, after all that time, had made her blood run hastily in her veins, together with the two Corona beers drunk all of a sudden during the dancing. Parker was handsome, a gentleman, sensitive, clean: she liked the idea of loving him. Sexually. A lot.
It was quite a sterilized idea of sex for a woman who had fucked up against a crypt wall, on the floor, like animals, in the dust of a warehouse. But, after two years, that could be a good start.
They were alone in the small room in Stevenson Dorm, and Parker put on some good music, Sarah McLachlan. His fingers slid deftly on her back, to undress her with a sensual, slow gesture. She had a matching slip and bra in some blue lace, very elegant and discreet. He appreciated her good taste and the honeyed colour of her skin under the light of the broken lamp.
“I’m sorry” he said, kindly. “The furniture is horrible”
“Don’t worry” she laughed. “It’s the same in Willow’s and my room. Don’t stop, please”
He grazed her shoulder with his lips. “You’re so beautiful, my heart is trembling”
Buffy smiled, and she took the initiative. She opened his lips with hers, and invaded his mouth with her tongue. He retired a bit, fixing her gaze with his crystal blue eyes.
“If I’m hurting you…let me know”
Buffy smiled.
“I’m not a virgin, don’t worry”
“I can’t believe it” he whispering, affecting shock. “Did you really have a guy?”
“A couple” she answered, biting her lips.
“Recently?”
“Two years ago. I was still in High School”
“I’m sorry”
“About what?”
“About not being…the first”
(I’m not sorry about that, Buffy thought, but she kept that for herself)
“I’d like to discover you as you discover a continent” He kept on and on, seducing her with his voice.
If you don’t like something…if you’re inhibited by something…”
Buffy almost had a bout of laughter. Almost.
Things that inhibited her?
Such as a ménage à trois with two soulless vampires ?
The thought, as usual, aroused her. And, then, it depressed the hell out of her.
This time, she didn’t want to rely on her memories to get excited. Parker had to be enough. Wasn’t it wonderful to be with a real man, once in a lifetime? Ok, more of a boy, but it was something, wasn’t it?
Alive! Human!
Parker took her silence for puzzlement, and he decided on the tenderness strategy. He caressed her shoulders longingly, and then he kissed her lightly, on the face, on the neck. For a moment, Buffy closed her eyes and thought of those lips on her neck….lips that opened in fangs, drawing blood…
But he was already switching his attention to more pressing matters.
“Let me undress” Buffy said.
“No, please…let me undress you” he replied, fighting with her bra clasp. After a lot of fruitless attempts, Buffy raised a hand and made the nasty bra click. Parker pushed her on the bedside and closed their distance, kissing her hotly. He was warm. And he was a good kisser.
Just not enough.
Bored, Buffy lay on the bed, showing him her naked breasts, hoping he caught the drift.
But he was toying with unimportant parts of her body, until Buffy took his hands and, with them, covered her breasts.
Nothing.
He grazed her nipples for a moment, and then he loosed his belt, taking off his pants. He was now wearing a white t – shirt, white boxers and dark socks.
“Get undressed” she insisted, moving restlessly on the crimson sheets of seduction (bought at Wal – Mart, 10% discount for students).
He smiled, and obliged, slowly…until he was naked but for his socks.
Buffy tried to ignore the unfortunate circumstance, and tried to concentrate on the erection she had in front of her.
She opened her mouth, shocked.
She had never seen one so….so…..…small.
But size doesn’t count, right? It was written in Cosmo, it had to be true. Samantha said that on “Sex and the city”, right? Or maybe she got it wrong, and the show was “Seventh Heaven”?
Anyway. Glad about her (mistaken) reaction, which confirmed his virility, Parker scooted next to her. His hands eventually reached the top of her tights …and rested there.
For a five/ten second span of time.
“Maybe, if you take off my slip…”Buffy suggested.
“Good idea” He said, and made her slip slide along her hips. Good, Buffy thought, that’s all right. Even better, she was amazed when he lowered his head to reach her with his mouth there.
I’m surprised he thought about that, she reflected. He gets better and better.
Parker was very satisfied with her obviously pleased reaction. He would give her a cunnilingus she would never forget…what about ten seconds?
Furious, Buffy thinned her lips in order not to explode. She didn’t want to ruin the only chance of a sexual encounter she had had in two years.
Parker raised himself and fished in the drawer. Buffy had never had sex before with a condom, obviously, and she wasn’t too excited about it, but nothing was worse than a sexual infection to ruin your mood.
With its latex suit on, his member looked like some sort of sci – fi prop. Not a big one, either.
“Do you want me to…”
She thought he was asking if she wanted more foreplay. Usually, no, but considering she was still dry, maybe…she smiled, and he interpreted it as an open “go ahead”. Parker rubbed his member against her opening and that was pleasant. Buffy’s mood rose a notch or two. Spike could go on with that game for hours, and it was so exciting and….just the thought made her wet, in a way that all of his ministrations hadn’t been able to do until then….
She had him inside of her all of a sudden.
Small, and with a plastic feel to it, because of the condom. Extraneous.
He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment. For a moment, grateful, he played with her breasts, and Buffy closed her eyes, too, going back to her memories, for the umpteenth time, to Angelus’ embrace, his possession, Spike’s kisses, the way it had been with both of them, at the same time and in the same bed.
At the thought, she almost came.
Almost.
This encounter was going on too long, and suddenly she noticed she didn’t like his smell. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the beer he had drunk, the sandwich with mustard he had eaten, the coffee…so human.
Suddenly Buffy realised she needed another type of intimacy to accept this, that making love with a stranger couldn’t satisfy her. What she had found in the two vampires had been deeper than this, more than a quickie between students.
At the same time, she couldn’t stand any more the weight of her loneliness. Their distance. Her heart cried.
And Parker weighed on her more than the heavier by far Angelus had.
A question of perspectives. And of heart. Her heart.
She turned her face, and tried to recreate in her mind the nights she had passed with her vampire lovers.
She didn’t succeed. And so she waited for Parker to finish, feeling disappointed and deluded by her evident incapacity to love again.

“You’re wonderful” Parker whispered, against her neck, after the sex. “It was fantastic. I hope it was the same for you. Did I hurt you?”
“It was good” she replied. “I’m grateful for that”
“For what?” he smiled, and now he looked handsome again, in the shadow, lightly sweating after the sex.
“I had forgotten about love…Parker, please….don’t leave me”
He smiled. “Sleep well, sweetie. I’m here”
She relaxed. She wanted to love again. She needed to open her heart, to forget about consequences. Oookay, the sex wasn’t that good, now…not so sweeping. Ok. Time had passed. That night sex hadn’t even been acceptably good. But it would change, as soon as they knew each other better. What mattered was he was a good guy, a real one, alive, caring, close to her.
She had to forget all about the past. From tomorrow on, all of that would change. She would have a boyfriend. She wouldn’t be alone.
Buffy scooted next to him and closed her eyes.
She was looking forward to sunrise.

As Buffy hid her face against Parker’s sweating and hairless chest, Spike wandered through the Sunnydale cemeteries like a weapon of war.
Damn it! He had never seen so few demons on the Hellmouth. Where the hell had they gone? He had a tremendous rage inside, and only one way to assuage it: to kill something, and to kill it a lot.
Once upon the time it had been humans, now demons and vampires…was it so utterly different, after all?
Yes, it was, Spike admitted, with gritted teeth, while he destroyed a bizarre couple of demons. I’m a beast no more. I’ve the body, the strength and the endurance of a vampire…but the heart and the soul of a man. My soul. William has grown up, indeed. He is no more the bloody awful poet who cried for Cecily, since then he had been William the Bloody, the vampire, the slayers’ slayer, and now he is again a man.
A man who won’t cry for her. I knew it. I always knew she would never be mine. What the hell did I expect? To be welcomed by her with open arms? After a couple of bloody years of silence?
The demons fell. And Spike took the bloodied sword and trailed it in the grass, bent on finding himself, as soon as possible, a new adversary.
Told, done.
Four big guys in military camouflage, with laser weapons in their hands, blocked him in a clearing, not far from the campus.
Humans. He caught their heartbeat, their breath.
What the hell did they want?
”Surround the hostile” the taller of them cried. Spike got it: he was the leader. His eyes narrowed, while he estimated the situation.
They wouldn’t take him. That was for sure. Did they want to unleash Hell? Well, go ahead, boys! He was ready! The men aimed the rifles but their sensors missed him: Spike put his unnatural speed to good use, and he did it smiling: Slutty had never seen him fight like this, but maybe one day…how delusional was he?
“Shoot him!” The leader shouted. Spike got behind one of the soldiers and put his fangs less than a inch from his jugular.
“Stop!” the leader screamed.
“Drop you weapons, otherwise I suck him dry” Spike exclaimed. “I’m not joking”
All of them obeyed the tall man’s gesture.
Spike vanished into the night.
“Damn it!”
The man pulled off his balaclava. He was a young handsome man, very tall indeed, with grey eyes made icy by rage.
“I swear we’ll take down that hostile. I want patrols all around!”
“Details: blonde and British” his lieutenant - a young black man - commented in the microphone. “Damn it!” the leader repeated, his eyes fixed on the alley the Hostile had fled into, before going back with his men to their headquarters.
Nothing frustrated him more than an escaping prey.

Sunlight flooded the small room, sliding over Buffy’s sleepy face. She opened her eyes, and observed with keen eyes the poor dorm room, the dirty clothes in the laundry basket, the worn books.
She was still naked.
She put on an old one of Parker’s t – shirts and got out of bed. On the bed table, next to the broken lamp whose light had shed on their unoriginal and unsatisfying sex, Buffy saw the note.
She took it with joy: she needed more than ever some words of affection.
“Buffy, I’m busy all day long. Don’t look for me. My mother is coming. Thanks for everything. I’ll call ya. P.”
Buffy froze.
That was the tender, even if goofy, lover of that night?
The coldness of his message hit her. “Thanks for everything?” She had given him her body, her trust, after so much time…and that was worth a “Thanks for everything”?
In another moment of her life, this detachment would have scandalized her. Now, it only hurt her. She was alone.
Alone.
And incapable of finding for herself a minimum of human warmth. She would soon die fighting, and then? Who would cry for her? Her mother…her Watcher…maybe her friends. Spike. Angelus. Scott. Now Parker? She doubted it.
Everybody left her.
Something broke inside her and, for the first time in years, she cried.

The sunlight was no harsher for Fred, trapped maybe forever in a foreign world from which there was possibly no return.
She looked around, desolate: green men with small red horns had found her in the clearing where she had landed and had taken her to a farm. Nothing fancy: the whole place reeked of low Middle Ages. They had taken her clothes and given her in exchange a sort of rough tunic. They had fixed around her neck a metal collar (similar to silver) and told her that she would have to wear it forever…unless she wanted to explode. She didn’t feel like testing that theory.
After all those humiliating antics, they had told her she was just a cow, a tool for them. She hated all of the farm jobs, and most of all tending the pigs. Obviously, that was what she was destined to do.
Just a few moments before losing all of her possessions, Fred had understood some truths about that place. Its existence proved that parallel dimensions, well, existed. This fact, in these conditions, didn’t give her more than a fraction of the scientific satisfaction she had expected. Indeed, the most interesting observation came to her from her small watch: time had stopped. She deduced time there moved very slowly. It seemed an hour there was worth almost a year in her own world.
Her speculative mind was already at work. She studied the night and daytime skies endlessly: three suns, seven moons, with an opposite movement to that of her own Moon.
But the most important thing at that moment was to stay alive. And to find a possible way out.
After some weeks had passed, Fred didn’t think about escaping any more. If she was able to flee her warders, what future waited for her in that foreign world? Better to wait and learn more about that reality. She was under the tutelage of the matronly lady of a male clan named Deathwok. It was a family of powerful warriors, the best example of which was Landok, universally considered a noble fighter.
And the worst, the sensitive Krevlornswoth.
Obviously, this was the one Fred liked best, who was neither loved nor respected by his bearded mother.
Usually, the green demon (were they demons? Or was she the demon, the foreign element?) found her in the fields and watched her work. When nobody else was around, he helped her. He was kind.
And he spoke English.
“How did you learn my language?” she asked, on a day she had just finished ploughing a wide field, and both were resting, sitting on a fence. It was a green, fruitful land, very luminous thanks to the three shining suns in the blue sky. But for Fred it was Hell, nevertheless.
“Sugar, I’m not talking your language. You just feel as if I am. I’m sending back to you the emotions I feel from you”
“Uh?”
The green creature smiled. “I’m empathic. It’s typical of my race. I understand everything and everybody…even things I’d do better to ignore. And I make it possible for other races to understand me. I’m the king of translators”
“All of you have this…gift?”
“This world is full of different races…not all of them agreeable. We ….the green ones…are empathic. But this is considered a fault, not a gift”
“That’s why they ignore me when I speak English”
“What’s English?”
“My language. In my world there are hundreds of them, all of them different”
“You’re missing it, aren’t you?” Krevlornswoth asked her.
“A lot. Don’t you know any way to get back there?”
“Slaves never go back to their original worlds” He explained, sadly. He looked all in all like a man. Apart from the green skin, red eyes and horns.
“They come here from other realities. This land is called Pylea, and there are several dimensional tunnels which link it to other worlds. There are very powerful books, whose words work like keys to open these tunnels. The one you read is only one of them”
“Why would a teacher do this to one of his students?” Fred asked, sourly.
“You had overshadowed him…he could do it, and he did. Your world isn’t perfect, either”
“You got it right” she admitted. “I’m glad to have known you. I feel so lonely…sometimes, I feel desperate. I can’t think about never seeing my world again, my parents…about never eating my favourite food, never hearing my songs, never reading…”
“Songs? What are songs?” Krevlonswoth asked.
Fred sighed. “Music”
“What’s music?”
“Is there no music, here? Don’t people sing? Don’t they play instruments?”
“Uh?” the demon exclaimed.
“Oh…like this “she opened her mouth and started to sing with a thin, well toned voice.
“Yesterday…I’m not half the man I used to be…there’s a shadow hanging over me…”
As soon as the first sounds escaped her mouth, Krevlornswoth fell from the fence, head first in the thick grass.

Buffy swirled her fork unwillingly in the purée: she wasn’t hungry. She turned her head and saw from afar the black hair and blue eyes of Parker, his cute smile directed at a redheaded hottie. Another freshman. The new woman in his life.
Idiot, idiot, idiot….I’m an idiot, Buffy thought. Instead of going around by night, fighting evil forces (more than dwindling forces, by the way) she was suffering like an idiot and losing an umpteenth couple of pounds over a sly student with a tiny penis, incapable of giving her an orgasm even by accident! And he preferred other girls to her! He had promised her intimacy! And now he was looking for it elsewhere!
Buffy had never felt so dirty, not even when she had lain with Europe’s Scourge and William the Bloody. After all, they had loved her. Parker had only used her.
She feared she was drowning in self–pity.
“Hallo, Buffy” Willow greeted her, sitting down next to her. Buffy smiled wanly, and pushed away her untouched food. “That jerk is in action again, uh?”
“Right” Buffy looked at her, suddenly noticing: she was shining. After her long mourning for Oz, Willow seemed to have reached a new level of contentment. She was happy for her friend.
”I’m a pathetic slut” she said. “Suffering for such a dickhead. But it hurts. This time I really believed that…”
“I know” Willow replied. “Maybe you couldn’t forget your past. You can’t forget that type of encounter. Maybe not even in a couple of years. I told him the same thing, the other night”
Buffy was puzzled. “Who is he?”
Willow feigned indifference.
“Well, Spike, obviously”
“EH?!”
“Spike. William the Bloody. The other vampire with a soul. Back, here in Sunnydale. A couple of night ago he was at the Bronze. I thought you had met, and talked”
“Spike is here? Did he see me at the Bronze with Parker?”
“Yeah” Willow nodded. “I tried to warn you, but all of your attention was taken by Mr. Sensitivity”
“What an idiot! Spike was there and I wanted to rush into bed with Parker! What a stupid!”
“Buffy, he’ll understand It’s not like you could have waited eternally for them…”
“I’ll make him pay, instead!” Buffy exclaimed, furious. “He had the nerve to come to Sunnydale and not to tell me! Bastard!”
Willow kept silent.
“Did he tell you anything about Angelus?” Buffy asked, after a bit, with a broken voice.

Giles opened the door, not caring about his domestic attire: anything was all right for a Watcher nowadays.
He regretted it immediately.
“Hi, Rupert” Spike smiled.
Giles stood open – mouthed.
“Won’t you invite me in? As you well know …I don’t bite anymore”
“Right” Giles said, still. “Stalin didn’t bite, either. But he sent thousands of people to Siberia to die”
“I’m not that mean” Spike replied.
“Come in”
Spike entered the small flat, all painted in quite a sad shade of green. “They don’t pay you enough, Rupert. As Buffy’s watcher you should be able to afford better than this”
”Did you come back…for her?”
“Have you got anything to say against that?”
“Just a whole word of NO”
“I’m not bad anymore” Spike observed, putting himself at ease on the couch.
“I don’t have the slightest idea what you are now. But I’m quite certain my Slayer can aspire to somebody better”
“Such as the frat boys she picks up at the Bronze?”
“Buffy is not that kind of girl”
“You’re even more delusional than I remembered” Spike replied. “Open your eyes, Rupert. She did it under your nose when she was seventeen, go figure now…”
“It ‘s been a very pleasant meeting. Now, if you don’t mind…”
“Rupert, you’re underestimating me. As usual. I’m not here to discuss Buffy…or Willow…with you. I’m here to discuss your job. Here in town there’s a new player, and I don’t like him at all”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Last night a commando cornered me. Crafty people…”
“Not enough to stop you”
Spike smiled. “Oooh… was that sarcasm? Anyway, I smell trouble. The fight between good and evil forces has always been…well, kind of ancient. Vampires, demons….slayer. Spells. Magicks. Those people used laser rifles and were wearing camouflage marked U.S. Army. And since when do the authorities….wait a moment”
“What?” Rupert inquired, intrigued.
Spike tried to recall his memories. “During the Second World War I was on a U.S. Submarine which had been captured by Germans. The Third Reich was conducting experiments on vamps hoping to conjure a demon army. And the Americans…well, they were doing something similar…They had an organization which was called…Enterprise…no…something similar…I’ve got it: Initiative”
“You’re teasing me” Rupert commented.
“Why should I?” Spike asked, smiling. “Believe it or not, I’ve got a soul, now…just like yours”
“This doesn’t make a person of you…let alone a deserving one”
“Don’t be a racist, Rupert, you’re not honouring our Country, cradle of civilisation”
“Let’s go back to this Initiative. What’s its aim?”
“To experiment on demons? To investigate occult forces? To use them for their own goals?”
“Mmm….what you’re telling me could be interesting, indeed. Some months ago Buffy crossed on patrol with a group of men in a similar attire. It was Halloween, and she believed that…”
Spike laughed. “Did she believe they were wearing a costume? Do you ever eliminate vampires, once in a while?”
“When we don’t succeed, we give them back their soul”
“Very amusing indeed”
“We’ll work on this topic. Could you…ok, this is painful for me, but….could you help us? And now, if you don’t mind…”
“I’m not here to seduce Buffy back”
“I don’t believe you”
“It’s true” Spike insisted.
“And your…deserving partner?”
“He’s in Los Angeles. He’s atoning for his past by fighting for Good. Yawn”
Giles pursed his lips. He couldn’t forget that Angelus was the monster who had killed his Jenny. And he couldn’t forget that he had missed his chance when the demon, shocked by his soul, had put himself at his mercy: that was his sourest failure, both as a man and as a watcher.
That, and discovering how low his slayer had fallen.
Spike understood at once what the man was thinking. He felt for him, sincerely.
“I’m sorry” he said. “I…can’t deny that I think about Buffy, still. You probably don’t believe me, but I’ve always had very strong feelings for her…even then. I know I can’t offer her anything…you’re right. I’ve got my soul back, but I’m still a demon. I don’t even want to try. I don’t expect anything from her. I just want to know she’s all right. She’s protected.”
“I do my best for…”
“I know. I’m not afraid for her as a slayer. I’m afraid for her as a woman”
”She has nothing to learn from you”
“You’re right, maybe” Spike smiled. “Not any more”
The bell rang.
“Mr. Giles? Are you at home?”
“I don’t want her to see me” Spike said quickly. “May I hide in your bathroom?”
“Please” Giles smiled, ironically, while he opened the door to Buffy.
She entered like lightning.
“Don’t lie to me. Was Spike here?”
“Sp…Spike?” Giles badly affected ignorance.
“He’s here” Buffy understood it immediately.
“No…well…I haven’t seen him since the night Willow and I…”
“Damn it! I know he is in Sunnydale! And I have to talk to him”
“Why?” Giles inquired. “I believed all that was over. Two years has passed since he and the Scourge left. What can you want from them, now? You defeated Faith, the Mayor, you’re going to College, you have a normal life…they can only bring pain to you, Buffy…”
“You don’t understand, Mr. Giles. I have to know. I always think about him…not a day passes without his memories. I can’t carry on as if he didn’t exist. My heart can’t forget”
Spike, from the bathroom, heard those words and felt something icy melting in his chest. A mad hope, something he had never even dared to touch…
She was confessing her thoughts to him. He was in her heart. Oh, Buffy, love, wait for me…I wasn’t wrong, then. I knew I had to come back to you….
“What are you saying? Do you love him?” Giles whispered, scandalized.
Buffy didn’t answer.
Spike, so near to her, held his unneeded breath.
And then, she spoke.
“Mr. Giles…I have to see him…to talk to him…I’m not living anymore…I’m not breathing…I have to know what happened to Angelus…”
Spike’s heart, which had stopped one hundred and twenty years ago, broke.

Fred was trying to get to sleep on her straw mattress next to the cattle–yard, when Krevlornswoth arrived. He had in his hands a small carved wooden box.
“Shhh” he said, sitting next to her. “If they knew I was here…they would skin me…literally. Apparently Pylean jackets are all the rage in your dimension. But I wanted you to have this”
Fred sat up, excited. Her things! She opened the box with trembling fingers and caressed her poor possessions: her watch (only a few minutes had passed since her arrival, in her true world….a few eternal minutes), a small notepad …and William Shelby’s reader card, along with his lyrics.
Fred cried quietly. All was lost.
“Now, sweetie, don’t do that” Krevlorsnwoth comforted her in his sweet voice. “I know how you feel…”
“No, you just can’t…”
“Darling, I really know how you feel. Empathic, remember? The other day, when you sang, I got it. All of your pain, loneliness, puzzlement, all of them hit me like a blow in the stomach. That was weird! It seems that when you sing my empathy gets stronger”
”That was why you collapsed?”
Krevlornswoth smiled. “That…and the song. That was the most wonderful thing I had ever heard in my whole life. I…believe I was born for this. For music. I’d give my life to hear it again”
Fred smiled too. “I can sing till I’m exhausted, and I’d do that for you…but this is not music, believe me. In my world there are people with wonderful voices, people who can play like angels. There are instruments I don’t even know the name of, that create wonderful melodies”
“That’s fantastic” he said sadly. “But I’ll never hear it”
Fred stared at him.
“Why don’t you create your own music?”
“It’s not allowed here, in Pylea. And now I know why. It would make us mad”
“Or…simply human”
The man looked at her. And then he noticed the small photo from the library. “Who’s that, sugar? Your boyfriend?”
Fred laughed, reddening. “I wish! No, he’s just a reader in the library I work at. I don’t even know him. Once we bumped into each other…and he dropped this” Fred gave the lyrics to the man, who read them seemingly without problems.
“Whoa!” he smiled, touching the paper. “I don’t even need to hear him to feel the world of passion which inhabits his blue blue eyes. Do you like him?”
“Yes, I do but…what does it matter?” she commented, melancholic again. “I’m here. And even if I were there…nothing would change. I’m a nothing , Lorne. A girl who’s not pretty enough, not ugly enough, not perky enough to be noticed. A zero. And the confirmation of that is my being here, now. And he’s so handsome, and mysterious, and romantic…he would never notice me. Never”
“What did you call me? Lorne?”
“It’s a play on words” she smiled. “Since you’re green…Lorne Greene…Bonanza…well, it doesn’t matter. The alternative was Hulk, and I frankly prefer Lorne. Your real name is so difficult…”
“I like it” Lorne was happy about it. “Let’s talk some more about music. But don’t let’s forget your friend with weird hair. He doesn’t strike me as the type who gives in. He could help you”
“How?” she laughed, bitterly. “How in this world do I get in touch with him?”
“With this telephone number” Lorne said, indicating the cell number on the reader card. “It’s a telephone, right? A cow had one of those, once…”
“Uh?”
Buffy slipped through the grounds of the campus. Tonight, this was more than a patrol: it was an unmerciful hunt.
She had to find Spike.
Notwithstanding all of his denials, she was sure Giles had met him, like Willow. Why in the world doesn’t he come to me, she asked herself. Furious (she had already visited all seven of Sunnydale’s cemeteries without noticing even the shadow of his bloody duster), she rested for a while behind Lowell House, a frat dorm. It was a place she had never explored before and something told her that, maybe, she would be luckier here.
She was wrong.
Not even the least vampire…not to talk about that particular vampire. She had only one chance, left: Willy the Snitch and his lurid bar.
Her thoughts moved away a little from Spike to rest, painfully, on Parker. She really knew it was a question of pride, more than of the heart, but it hurt just the same. Anxious to get back to her hunt, she bumped against a wall.
“Ouch” two voices exclaimed at once…hers…and the wall’s.
Which turned out to be a tall guy with a familiar face and the build of a basketball player.
“I’m….I’m sorry” he stuttered, rubbing the spot where she had collided with him.
“Were you looking for mushrooms?” she smirked, noting his very professional torch.
“No…no. I was looking for my library badge, and…”
“It always happens to me,” Buffy smiled. “This has to be some kind of destiny. When we met the first time, I buried you under a pile of books”
“Buffy? Willow’s friend?” he finally recognized her. “Oh, God, I’m sorry…”
“About me hitting you…again?”
“No…I was intending to call you…to ask you …on a date…and instead…we meet in the dark and bump into each other…you know what I mean. Not a good beginning”
“I had worse” she smiled. “Riley Finn, right? Professor Walsh’s assistant”
“Yep. If I survive”
“It was kind of you to think about me”
“To be honest, Iwas afraid I had got my timing wrong. Somebody told me you’re dating Parker Abrams”
“Parker…who?” she laughed bitterly.
“Ah…it’s over, then”
“Yes. It seems his relationships don’t last.” She was sad, now.
“Well…no…I mean….I’m sorry…but not that much” he laughed. “If you are free…and willing…tonight there’s a party here at our dorm. You’d be welcome”
“Thanks, I’ll think about it.” She smiled. “An old acquaintance of mine arrived in town and if I meet up with him, I have to greet him as he deserves. But if I can…I’ll come”
“I’ll count on it” Riley smirked. “Good night, Buffy”
“Good night, Riley”
They went off in opposite directions, he with his torch, she with her stake.
None of them asked themselves what the other was really doing in a garden, at night.

When Nicole undressed and Tom offered her the joint, Willow leaned against Spike’s shoulder, letting her head fall on his chest.
Spike smiled.
There had to be a reason in the world why he and the redhead had ended up at the Sunnydale Sun cinema to see that Kubrick festival, but in that moment he couldn’t recall it. The only important thing was the perfume of her skin, the blood pulsing under it and the power she radiated, even in that moment, when she was totally relaxed against him like the nineteen years young woman she was.
Seemingly.
Indeed, Willow was anything but normal, and he knew it. Since the beginning.
So, when she had called him on his cell and asked him on a date, he had accepted. He didn’t feel like waiting to bump into Buffy, and he could always go patrolling after the cinema.
They had spent the whole afternoon in the dark seeing “2001: A Space Odyssey”, “The Shining” and now “Eyes wide shut”. Spike had already seen it at its launch and he had liked it. Baroque, yes, but interesting. But even more interesting was to follow the vivid face of Willow get more animated at the thickening of the plot, her big eyes (oh – so – innocent, so they seemed!) widening with incredulity.
When the lights went on during the interval, Willow’s cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled.
“I can’t believe those things. I can’t believe people dress up like that and get naked in public…orgies…”
Spike had a bout of laugher and fought against the temptation to light a cigarette. “Obviously they exist. For ever, I’d say”
“Did you ever….take part in one?”
Spike closed their distance, an arm around her shoulders. “When I was alive…no, clearly. I was very naïve. But later…that’s another story”
“Tell me” she insisted, most curious.
“Honestly, Angelus, Darla, Dru and I were too hungry to waste our time in that kind of …well, social events. Mostly, when we were around, a blood bath ensued. But….I have to admit that once in Venice, during the Carnival…Angelus got us an invitation to one of those parties2, it was always him who made this type of contact. But later we got away with our party into a private room….”
”Go ahead” she invited him.
“You don’t seem to me to be too scandalized, Miss Rosenberg”
“How do I seem to you?” she asked, biting her lip with her small white teeth.
“Aroused” he whispered, leaning over her and kissing her briefly, passing his tongue over the crimson drop of blood she had provoked with her gesture. Willow deepened the embrace, putting her hand behind his head, and Spike slid his tongue down into her mouth.
She moaned, and the kiss deepened.
“And …then?” she said, breathless, after a few long minutes.
“Dru had picked up a seminarist on the way. His name was Ferrante. A cute guy. That was his last night…we liked him so much that Angelus and I sired him. I haven’t seen him again”
“Do you think….he’s still around?”
“Who knows? Maybe”
“Are you sorry about that?”
“Would it change anything? Anyway, yes, I’m very sorry. I always believed I didn’t care, but now I’m not so convinced about that. Yes, I’m sorry. I’d give everything to turn time back. But I can’t. Angel can’t live with this awareness. I have to.”
“But…the idea still excites you, doesn’t it?” she insisted. Willow was ever the scientist, always dedicated to testing and questioning.
“Yes” he admitted.
“And the soul?”
“It hasn’t anything to do with sex, don’t you know that?”
“I guess. Buffy would be happy to know”
“A fat lot she cares…” Spike bitterly replied.
“Don’t say that. I know she always thinks about you”
“She thinks about Angelus…”
“Probably, yes, but you’re not that far behind. I know it for certain. She misses you both, and she’s never been happy in the last two years, she had to fight all and everybody. Don’t be another obstacle for her. Why don’t you look for her?”
Spike sighed. “I came here hoping to see her…hoping she had waited for me, after all. I get it now: it wasn’t like that. Buffy got herself another life and she doesn’t love me, anyway. Please, I don’t even want to talk about it”
“As you like” she pouted.
The lights went down again.
Willow crouched against him, the vampire’s cool hands between hers, and watched the movie with new eyes.
From time to time, he delicately kissed her brow, and caressed her hands. Willow didn’t want to ask herself about the whys and hows of that strange afternoon. When the film was over, they got up – still entwined – and slowly went out. Outside the cinema door, Spike leaned against her and kissed her briefly.
“Thank you for this most pleasant afternoon”
“Thanks to you…especially for your sincerity”
“You made me so”
“You made me do so” she smiled.
They were still looking at each other, and talking, and kissing, when somebody called Willow.
She raised her head and froze.
Tara.
”Hi…Will. I thought you were going out…with me. But I see…you’re busy”
In a very natural way, Spike loosed his embrace and straightened. He didn’t want to hurt the fair – haired girl.
“I’m glad to meet you” he said, extending his hand to her. “I know you’re Tara, Willow’s girlfriend. I’m Spike”
“Sp..Spike…The vampire” she whispered.
“Yeah…back in Sunnyhell. I felt like coming back for a while”
Willow left Spike’s side and linked her arm into Tara’s. “We went to the cinema. I knew you had to study”
“Yes, but…”
“And now I have to go. Fighting against Evil is a full time job” Spike smiled. “And I’ve still got to put on my tight superhero suit”
The two girls followed him with their eyes. And then they stared at each other.
“I get it now…it’s him” Tara observed, watching him with knowing eyes.
“Right. What do you think about it?” Willow murmured, feeling guilty…and full of expectations, too.
Tara smiled at her, shyly.
“It could be done”

Spike drifted back slowly to his room. He would drink some pig’s blood heated in the microwave oven….when he was hunting, he preferred to do so with a full stomach. There were always human casualties, often bleeding, and he wanted to avoid temptation. And then he would go out. Night was coming.
He had rented a couple of rooms in a stylish residence. Spending Angel’s money always gave him some satisfaction.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t that satisfied with the evening (his traitor body had expected better from sweet, dangerous Willow and her O neg) but he forced himself to feel at peace. There were no misunderstandings with her. Willow had a girlfriend, and she was falling in love with Tara. Spike accepted that, since he had to.
But he didn’t have any time for his snack.
Whistler was waiting for him in his sitting room.
“You’re always leaving your cell at home. What kind of bloody superhero are you?”
“What do you want?” Spike asked, feigning indifference to the Powers that Be’s emissary and opening his fridge.
”Sweetie, there’s a call for you” Whistler smiled. “Take it, before I vomit. I can tell you that interdimensional calls cost a hell of a lot”
Amazed, Spike took the cell.
“Hallo?” a voice croaked, far far away. “William Shelby?”
Even more bedazzled, Spike stared at the phone, as if watching it could provide him with answers.
“Yes…well…kind of…let’s say I’m him
“Well” the voice exclaimed. “And now sing me something”
Spike stared at Whistler with a death stare. When the demon encouraged him, Spike threw away the remnants of his good sense and intoned the last verse of “My way”.

“And more…much more than this…I did it my waaaaay……”
Lorne – shocked – covered his ears with his hands.
Fred was even more terrified, and she was waiting for a word from him. The sound was coming from a type of tube that the old wise man Lorne had consulted held in his hands, and which had nothing in common with a phone. But it worked. Her mysterious poet, in her world, was on the other end of that magic line. Unbelievable!
Lorne reacted, eventually “A lot of unresolved issues, honey. That’s for sure” he explained to Fred.
“Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?” the vampire’s irritated voice intruded.
“William Shelby” Lorne answered. “What the hell are you? Pure demon, pure soul…what kind of creature are you?”
“A creature who will fuck you dry if you don’t hurry up and explain what you want from me and why you got me singing”
“Do you believe in magic? Do you believe in mythical creatures? Do you believe in things you can’t see with your eyes and…” Lorne asked.
“More than you’d guess. Go ahead” Spike insisted, very moodily.
“There’s a damsel in distress”
“Describe her”
“Beautiful and innocent” Lorne whispered, looking at Fred with warm sympathy.
“I don’t know any like that” Spike replied sourly.
“But she knows you…and she has nobody else in this world”
“How the hell do I get to her?” Spike asked, looking at Whistler pouring his bourbon generously. Something tells me you’re far away”
“Your friend will tell you how” Lorne abruptly ended and made a gesture to the old man.
The communication stopped with a click. When Lorne had explained to her that the old man of the mountain was one of the few in that dimension to understand something about spatial – temporal tunnels, she hadn’t believed him. Now, she had to admit it had worked. William Shelby had been contacted somehow….and it seemed he was not the type of guy to be too shocked by such a bizarre circumstance.
“Your handsome knight is coming for you, sugar” Lorne comforted her. “I warn you: his iron armour isn’t shining, but it’s solid as a rock”
“How do you know?” Fred asked, sadly. It all seemed so impossible…
“He almost broke my eardrums” Lorne admitted. “Now I know what you meant when you told me there are good singers…and not so good. But I got it from his song. He’s profoundly true and trustworthy, he lives to fight for Good and he won’t leave you to your fate, should he be able to do something about it”
“But…I’m nothing to him…and how could he…”
“Your friend has some powerful allies” the old wise man in terrupted. “Krevlornswoth, you’re taking a lot of risks in helping this cow. But the Gods will aid you, because you’re not alone in this affair”
Fred didn’t answer. She didn’t dare to hope. That was absurd. William Shelby, her romantic poet, who would run to save her from a fate worse than death ….
For the first time in weeks, she felt optimistic.

“That’s your choice. By the way, what a great bourbon! 25 year old Georgia smuggled stuff…”
“Get your hands off my bourbon, and tell me what the hell is happening. The damsel in distress is….where, exactly?”
Whistler looked down at his nails.
“Well?” Spike insisted.
“The girl is in another dimension, called Pylea”
“Uh?”
“An evil man sent her there like she was mail. There are books that can grant this sort of journey. A one way journey”
“Why have you contacted me? Go to Angel, he is in love with that sort of thing!”
“The girl knew you”
“Me? I don’t know this girl”
“What does it matter?” Whistler sharply observed. “You’ve been risking your existence every single night, for two years, for perfect strangers. What the hell does it matter whether you know her…or not?”
“That’s true” Spike admitted.
“I can get you to Pylea. The girl has some years of living left, no more…a few hours in our dimension. Her life depends on you. Obviously, I can’t manage your return journey. You’ll have to arrange something by yourselves. But I know that she won’t make it, if she’s left alone there”
Spike stared at him. But he had already taken his decision.
The vampire kills without looking at the I.D.
The vampire with the soul saves in the same way.
“Good” Whistler smiled, satisfied. He swirled his hand and plucked…out of thin air, an old looking book.
“Read a sentence. Any one will do. It’ll take you to her”
Spike took the book in his hands.
He would use it, but not before calling Angel. Just in case. If Whistler had played him a bad hand, he would make him pay for that…
He turned to warn the demon, but he had vanished.
And that was of the good, because at that moment something really nasty happened.
Somebody kicked the door open and entered, hands on hips and a death stare in her eyes.
It was Buffy Summers, and she was mad as hell.
Notes:
1 Dante Alighieri, La divina Commedia, Paolo and Francesca.
2This refers to one of our stories, “Vigilia delle Ceneri”, check for it on our sites www.dreamhunter.altervista.org and www.rogiari.altervista.org
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Princes to the noir