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Ritual of Fire and Ice	By : Nightmelody Category: > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 3374 -:- 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
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- 3
Author's note: This is the third and final part to 'Ritual of Fire and Ice' and 'Handful of Days',
and the end of this trilogy. Thanks for all the encouraging comments.

Nightmelody

Christmas in Prague

It was late afternoon on Christmas Eve, in the ancient city of Prague. Traffic in the city center was
already heavy, as people rushed home to their families and to Christmas Eve festivities.

Spike walked slowly through the city, marveling at its beauty. It had been more than a century
since he had last been here, during that last time with Dru. And then they had ended up in
Sunnydale...and his life had changed.

He'd never seen the city in daylight, of course, but even at night he had enjoyed the arch of doorways, the decorative brick work of the finely crafted buildings. City planners in the States
should be required to see Prague. And now he was getting to see it in late afternoon sunlight, to
see the play of light and shadow.

Carolers sang in front of the statue of Good King Wenceslas. The city was full of holiday cheer.
Tonight, all the churches in town would have the ornate midnight masses they were famed for,
and the heavy clouds overhead were supposed to bring snow.

Snow, in Prague, on Christmas Eve. What a beautiful night to be his last.

Spike's hands and feet were freezing before he got back to his hotel room. He had forgotten that
he was no longer invulnerable to cold weather, and had neglected to buy gloves or boots. But it
didn't matter. He'd only be here a little while.

Dru was still asleep. He'd been forced to drug her during this whole trip, because she was now far
stronger than he. But soon she would wake up, and he would take her to see the sights of her
beloved city.

"Prague! We're in Prague. Oh, my dear boy! I will kiss you even though you're so warm! You
brought me home!"

Spike held the cup of blood to her lips-human blood, from a blood bank. Dru would not drink
animal blood. She sipped obediently

He helped her dress, in a lovely red velvet gown. He did her hair, just like the old days, and
applied her makeup. The drugs, supplied by Wolfram and Hart, made her nicely compliant.

"Do you remember what we're going to do tonight? What Angel wanted us to do?"

"Yes." She smiled a dreamy smile, and spoke in a sing song voice. "Angel wants me to recreate
you. At midnight. In Prague. How did you get turned back into a human, anyway?"

"Dunno, pet. Some strange magic." He hoped the drugs dimmed her enough that she couldn't tell
he was lying. Didn't want her getting angry, not at this point.

"The same magic that killed my dark sire?"

"Related, I believe. Perhaps we will learn more as time goes by."

"Yes. And we are in the city of time. Can we see my clock? I want to see what time it is."

He knew she meant the astronomical clock. She always thought it told her the future.

Later he her helped her into a warm white cashmere coat and hat. She was delighted with it and
stroked it as they walked the city streets. Snow was now drifting down, large white flakes that
swiftly covered the city.

They walked to her clock. "Tonight is a special alignment," she told him. "Special for my prince."

"Oh Spike," Dru said, twirling in the falling snow like a dancer. "The snow covers the darkness
of the world tonight!" She smiled, delighted as a child.

"Of course, dear." They walked on through the city.
"And look where we are. This is where Angel told me we should do it."

They were in the courtyard of the convent Angel had investigated. The Little Sisters of Charity. A
cloistered order.

"Listen!" Dru said, eyes sparking. "We can hear the choir. They sound like angels. Angel's! And
we will sup from them, soon, my love."

"Yes, dear." He took her in his arms and they swayed together in a small dance in the drifting
snow until the bells of the churches began to chime the midnight hour.

"Time, my love." He unzipped his coat and let it drop to the ground. Dru smiled and changed to
her vampire face.

"Soon you will be my prince again," she said. Her fangs sank into his neck, and Spike wrapped
his arms around her, feeling his life force drift away.

They slipped together to the soft snow, now several inches deep. Barely able to open his eyes,
Spike looked at the girl now cradled in his arms. Her rosy lips opened to take in a breath of the
winter air. He gently wiped the blood from her lips, the effort to move his hand enormous. His
eyes drifted shut, and he held her, feeling the pulse of her blood, the breath she drew...

It had worked, was his last thought...Angel had transferred the shanshu to him, and he had
transferred it, with an additional charm, to Dru. And now she would once again be the innocent
girl she had been...before Angel...before ...

He drifted away gently, like the fall of snow.

The sisters discovered them the next day, when Sister Agnes went out to feed the birds on
Christmas morning. The young man was dead, frozen. They eventually buried him in their convent
graveyard.

The girl, though, survived by some miracle, perhaps kept warm by the man's covering body. She
remembered nothing of her past, and there was no one who claimed her. She became Sister
Beatrice, a saintly, gentle woman with great vision. It was she who established the Orphanages of
Charity for the victims of foreign wars, all over the world, bringing hope to thousands of children.

When she died, at a great age, she was buried next to the grave of the unknown man in the
convent grave yard, as she requested.

***

A hard thump on his stomach woke Spike. His eyes flew open to find his mid section straddled by
a tiny imp with honey colored hair in two skinny braids, dancing green eyes, and a snub nose. He
estimated her age at about three years.

"Unca Spike!" She bounced again, causing him to curl up into a sitting position. She did not
pronounce her 's ' sound precisely right, he noticed.

"Anna Grathe. You wathn't thuppothed to wake him up." A small, dark haired, chubby boy
spoke, even less clearly than the little girl did. He ran out of the room.

It dawned on him, who the children were. Little Anna Grace and little Toby, Dawn's great
grandchildren, who perished in the great quake of '63, the one that had destroyed much of
southern California. He'd attended their memorial service.

Then he noticed his surroundings. A large room of white marble with an open broad doorway
leading to a balcony. He could see just a glimpse of the blue green sea from where he sat.

A woman entered the room. Joyce, looking younger and more lovely than he remembered.
"Spike!" she said, all smiles. "You're awake. Much earlier than Anya told us to expect you to be,
thanks to these imps!" She gave a mock frown. The children grinned at him.

"Anya?"

"She delivers the dead to their afterlives. When she's not working she visits Xander here."

"You children go outside. I think Dawn and Tara have something for you on the beach," she told
the little ones. With shouts of delight the two children ran to the balcony, clambered over and
dropped from sight. Their giggling voices drifted away.

"Buffy?"

"She's at the island. She took some gs tgs there while you slept, so the two of you could have a
nice, private visit there for a while."

"Oh." He was both delighted and disappointed.

Joyce smiled. "If you go down to the beach and tell one of the dolphins you want to find Buffy,
they'll deliver you to the island in no time. Just remember to hang on!"

Spike looked around for the door. The house had changed since he had been here before.

"Just leap off the balcony, like the kids did," Joyce suggested. "It's the quickest way."

Spike leaped, delighting in his strength and grace. He ran to the beach and entered the warm
water, waving at the children, Dawn, and Tara, as he did.

"Later!" Dawn called, and he nodded.

A silvery dolphin slid between his legs and he told it to find Buffy.

Soon he was there, at the small crescent beach. "Buffy! Buffy!" He shouted, and there she was,
beautiful and golden in a sheer white gown, her hair shining in the sunlight. Then she was in his
arms, sweet smelling and delicious and they were laughing and crying and kissing all at once.

"You were the last to arrive!" She exclaimed. "I waited and waited for you!"

"You don't know how much I wanted to be here," he said, caressing her face, her lips.

She nodded. "But you had to take care of Dru first."

"Yes. It's done, thanks to Angel."

"And now we're together for always. The dark days are past." Her eyes, soft and full of love, met
his.

"Always," he agreed, his sapphire eyes glistening with joy as he looked into her eyes. "It was
Christmas, that last night. Lovely, with snow falling." For some reason, it was important for her
to know that the end hadn't been ugly.

"Christmas." Her eyes glowed with joy, and her hands squeezed his. " We can have Christmas
here. Would you like that? To celebrate your arrival. With snow and hot chocolate, and presents!"
Buffy held his hand and they walked toward the villa.
As they walked slowly, pausing along the way to laugh and kiss, snow flakes began to drift down
around them. Spike stopped walking and looked up at the sky in surprise and delight.

"Come, my love," Buffy said, smiling. "There is a warm fire waiting for us. It will soon be
Christmas!"

The End
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Ritual of Fire and Ice