Come Sail Away | By : GDrew Category: BtVS AU/AR > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 1833 -:- 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. |
Sleeping with the lights on
I’ve
been haunted by this old ghost before
I
want to hear your voice
You
know it’s been so long
Like
a dancing wave you balance on the shore
It
would feel so good to see your face again
--
Teitur
You
know that feeling you get, the one where everything is so familiar. Where
everything feels so right? That’s how I feel on days
like today. You’ll know what I’m talking about after
I’m done here.
So
I wake up with the sun in my eyes, birds chirping away like there’s
no tomorrow, the blankets on the floor, and my pillow is near my feet. Speaking
of my feet, they’re right up next to the headboard,
and my head is propped up under another pillow at the end of the bed. Huh. Must’ve been turned around last night.
Anyway,
in one lazy move that I’ve got down pat, I manage to
get my head where it’s supposed to be, and I turn it toward the window. Judging
by the sun’s position, it’s well after nine in the
morning. Nice. I almost never get to sleep in these days. Always something I gotta do, something that needs to
be done.
With
a deep yawn, I turn and bury my face in the pillow, sighing, inhaling its
scent. It smells like Bvlgari, fresh laundry and a
faint smell of smoke. As my head lifts from the pillow, my eyes catch the piece
of paper laying on top of the one next to mine, just begging to be read. Who am I to deny the paper’s rights, right?
Morning Sleepy Head.
Giles called
around 7. Wondered if you could head
down to Venice to get that thing.
Told him I’d go instead. Be back before six.
F.
PS. Dawn came
in around 2 last night. Go easy.
Wonderful. Sometimes I wonder what I would do without her.
I
get up, my feet padding their way on the hardwood floor to the bathroom. It
usually takes me a while to freshen up, but this morning, it’s
unusually quick.
I
just manage to finish brushing my teeth before I see him in the mirror behind
me. Now, normally when you see someone you know in the mirror, a dead someone,
it calls for some screams and hysterics and all those things Neve Campbell made famous, right? Well, since I did that
the first time this happened, I normally skip it, and just play along. Funny how I always see him in the mirror first. Never could
have happened before.
“Mornin’.” He says.
His
voice is distant and sounds crackled, like if it’s
going through a radio station plagued by static.
I
study his features for a while in the mirror before turning to him. His face isn’t as sharp as I remember it being, his eyes aren’t as
blue and clear, and his hair is the way it was when he first came back from Africa. All long and wavy and… and unkempt. But
it’s him. Or it. Who knows exactly? I know he isn’t real, and I know he isn’t The First. He’s just something I concocted one day. One day when I
missed him more than the others.
“Hey.”
“How are you?” He asks, walking out
of the bathroom and into my bedroom.
He
looks around, smirks a little, before settling himself on the edge of the bed.
“Good. Just woke up.”
“So I see.” He says, “Sleep well?”
“Better than I have in a long time.”
He
smiles a little and cocks his head the way I remember him doing so. He looks
like he’s about to say something, but thinks better of it as he glances at the
bed, and sees the note. He picks it up and I guess he reads it, because the
next thing I know, he’s asking me about Dawn.
“Dawn
came in around 2. Go easy. Fun night?”
“Ricardo’s
birthday.” I say, making my way to the dresser.
I
open the sock drawer and make my selection. I grab a sweater from another
drawer, and make my way to the closet for a pair of pants.
“Ah. Right.
Ricardo.” He says this like he and Ricardo are the best of friends. Which, if they had ever met, it never would have been the case.
“Yeah. He turned
20. Big deal and all.” I say as I change into my jeans
and sweater.
Mirage!Spike just looks on as I do
so. He replaces Faith’s note on the bed, and gets up. It’s
painfully slow and looks awkward. But he gets up, none
the less. Then, just like every morning, he moves towards me, all cat like, swaying as he walks, making it look as if he’s floating.
And when he’s right in front of me, he dips his head a
few inches and his lips come down onto mine. There’s
no contact per se, but I can feel it. Feel the way his lower lip slowly parts,
feel the way his left hand rests itself on my hip, and feel the way his tongue
skims across mine… My eyes close at this moment. Every time.
And I wind up cursing myself every time I do so.
“Buffy?”
Dawn says, as she opens the door to my bedroom.
I
open my eyes, and he’s gone. Just like that. As quickly as he appeared.
“Buffy?”
She repeats, looking at me strangely.
“Huh, yeah?”
Then
reality comes flooding back in.
“Are you okay?” She asks, “You look
dazed.”
“I’m fine.” My fingers find their way
to my mouth, where they just tap my lower lip gently. “Um, how was the end of
the party?”
Her
eyes brighten up for a bit, and she looks like she wants to tell me absolutely
every single detail of what happened after Faith and I left. Then it looks like
she thinks better of it, and glances around the room.
“What?” I ask.
“Were you talking to yourself? I
mean, earlier.”
And just like that, Andrew comes to my rescue.
“Aumento e lustro Signore.” He says, barging in
my room. Normally, I’d nag him about this entering
without permission thing he has going on, but this morning, I could kiss him
for it. “Buffy, Mr. Giles and Willow are on the
phone. Conference call. Sounds molto importante.
Hey, do you think that maybe it has to do with my paychecks that are getting
lost in the posta?
Cause if it—”
“Thanks Andy. I’ll be there in a sec.”
He
nods his little geeky nod before giving us a waving Ciao and disappearing behind his bedroom
door.
“I’ll be back. And
when I do, you gotta tell me every single detail
about last night. I mean, it must’ve been good if you came back at around two o’clock.” I say, escaping from that little situation
with ease.
Her
eyes go wide and she drops her jaw to her knees. Gotcha.
(¯`•.@}_(¯`•.@}_(¯`•.@}
“Hello?”
“Hey Buffy!” Will sounds way too cheery in the morning. Thankfully, Giles is
there to even things out.
“I
trust you are well rested?” He says. “I
called earlier, but you weren’t awake.”
“Giles. You called
at seven. Of course I wasn’t awake.”
“Right.
Well, no matter.”
I
can’t be sure, but I thought I heard a distant chuckle
in the background.
“Who else is on the phone?”
You
know those moments you remember all too well when you look back on them 20
years from now or so? This felt like one of them.
“Hello
Buffy.”
Silence. Dead silence. All the words you could use to
describe how I felt like when I heard his voice all dissipated into a vast sea
of letters. What the fuck?! Am I just
imagining this? Like this morning? Like every fucking morning?
“Will? Giles?”
Silence. Take a stab
Buff.
“Sp… Spike?”
Hey, when you haven’t said a name out loud in a while,
it can be rough.
I
can hear a deep sigh and two consecutive *clicks*.
“Yeah, luv’?”
Well,
shit.
(¯`•.@}_(¯`•.@}_(¯`•.@}
I
was sitting on the couch when Faith came back from Venice, tugging a
package under one arm. I hadn’t moved since the
morning. Since I talked with him.
“Yo. Babe.”
I
guess that broke me out of my reverie. Cause next
thing I know, she’s kneeling in front of me, her hands on my knees, giving me a
worried look.
“You okay?” She says, and I can only
stare at her. “What’s up?”
I
finally find my vocal chords and decide to use them.
“Spike. He’s alive.”
I say. “I talked to him this morning.”
Her
face takes on this hurt look for a split second before making room for a huge
grin. Yeah. I felt like that too.
“On the
phone?”
I
nod and blink away a few tears I didn’t know I was
shedding and look away.
“Hey. Look at me.” She says, “B.”
And when I do look back at her, her dimples are showing.
“When is he getting here?” She asks.
And it’s sincere. She’s not mad,
she’s not surprised, she’s not getting all angst-y with me about our
relationship, she’s not… maybe I’m disappointed.
“Tomorrow.” I say.
That’s when it snapped in me. Spike. Spike was
alive. Spike was coming to see me. Spike. The guy I was missing for three years. The guy
I was in love with. The guy who was dead. And he was coming to see me tomorrow.
Faith
gets up and kisses my forehead.
“I’m happy for ya,
B.” She says, “You deserve it.” Again, with the genuine,
honest feelings. Since when did she become so candid with her emotions? And fuck me. I am disappointed.
(¯`•.@}_(¯`•.@}_(¯`•.@}
I
was sitting on the couch, living off the longest night of my life, with Faith’s
arm resting behind my head, when I first heard the knock. I was about to get up
when Faith just said : “Come in!”, urging me to stay
put.
And the door opened. Slowly. And then there was black leather. Black
jeans. Black boots. And
a full head of bleach blonde hair. I think it’s when I
saw the leather coat that my eyes started to water, and when I saw the jeans that
I was full blown crying. There he stood, in the doorway, smiling tentatively,
his head heavy on the one side, his eyes bluer than I could ever remember them
being… and I’m still stuck here on this damn couch.
Finally,
Faith retracts her arm and gives me a nudge. In the right
direction.
“Hey.” It’s soft on my part, but it’s okay. I can be mushy if I want to. Especially
when it comes to Spike.
“Hey.”
A
shiver runs down my spine just hearing his voice. It’s
like thick caramel laced with chocolate. It’s incredibly
suave.
He
looks like he’s thinking of taking a tentative step forward, and I bet I look
the same way, and together, we probably look like a couple of idiots with
cement blocks on our feet. It’s not until Faith coughs
a little that I get moving and wind up in his arms, inhaling deeply, relishing
the smell that I’ve been craving for too long. He smells… he smells, as Spike
ought to smell. All smoke, leather and clean. All man.
I laugh nowadays that men have to rely on flimsy body sprays to attract women.
Give any gal a shot of Eau de Spike, and I can
guarantee meltage.
Finally,
we pull back, and it doesn’t take long before those
three words escape my lips. I wasn’t planning on
saying them, but I guess when you mean them, they can come out at random.
“I love you.” It’s
soft and almost inaudible, but he heard it.
And he just smiles and dips his head a little.
“I’ve loved you longer.” He says.
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