Buffy/Spike fanfiction [5/21/03] season 7 - "Chosen," the last basement
scene before the morning of the final battle. (Thank you to Josh Whedon for
creating Buffy and Spike, and to Sarah Michelle Gellar and James Marsters
for adding depth and chemistry to the characters)
THERE IS NO END
At the sight of one another, they paused, letting the silence of memories and possibilities pass through the wide space between them. He looked at her, not caring she doesn't love him the way he wants because, whether they are a room or dimensions apart, they share a certain connection that can endure whatever lies beyond the end of this world.
They just stared at each other, the vampire and the slayer, the two who countlessly defied tradition and went against nature's set of engraved rules. But this was not the time for an examination of history or fearing the unknown future. What they wanted, what they had was now.
Almost at the precise moment, they walked slowly towards each other, closing that space between, and, locking gazes, the man faced the woman. She smelled of night air, he noticed, like the quiet breeze rustling the leaves while children dream of all things sweet in their beds. Moonlight was bright, polishing their faces and making his blue eyes glassy under low lids.
At his side, the amulet dangled from his fingers. She took it to her own and, foreheads barely touching, she hung it around his neck. For a second, she watched it glint in the silvery light, then placed her small palms over it. "A champion," she said with curved lips and swore she almost felt his heart beat. Her eyes met with his again and lost herself. "Can we..." Her whisper brushed his chin.
"...Be close," he finished, voice gone as dusky as her eyes. Then with her eyelids fluttering, she pushed up on her toes and rubbed her temple delicately against the line of his jaw. Feeling the softness of her hair and his blood tingling in response, he knew this gesture was an offering of herself with complete and unconditional trust in him.
"Closer," she murmured while easing back. She saw his eyes had clouded with love for her and held an understanding of what she was requesting because he wanted the same.
So, using the gentle skill of his pale hands, undressed her. He began with the clip in her hair, unfastening it to allow her blond hair to fall free like a curtain over her face, beautiful as sun. He gripped the lapels of her leather jacket then pulled it down her arms and dropped it to a pool at her feet, followed by the slow, sweet torture of unbuttoning her blouse. He watched her as he did this, watched her face in the moonlight go lax with pleasure and warmth. He watched her eyes darken when he skimmed his thumbs against the side of her breasts as he slid the fabric off her shoulders. And when he unzipped the fly of her jeans to then drag them and the lace down her hips, saw the pout of her lip quiver and moisten. Holding his hands for balance, she stepped own of her clothes, then stood before him in a revelation of moonlight and flesh.
The one coherent thought in his muddled mind was to hold her. But she went to him first and tucked the amulet underneath the collar of his shirt. It was her turn to watch him through the same haze of desire, her turn to watch the response on his face when she'd shed his clothes, break his barriers. But the moonlight and shadows of their surroundings began to blur, their blood bubble and breath strain. Their grasp on patience was gradually slipping when she dragged his jeans down, finding him hard and ready, and her mouth watered as his did when she pulled his shirt over his head, absently tossing it to the pile behind her.
With her breathing ragged into his mouth and their eyes heavy lidded, he lifted her in graceful stamina to his arms and carried her to his bed. There, he laid her down, stared at her for a space of heart beats before he kissed her. The press of lips was soft and savoring, but when he eased his weight on top her, it deepened welcoming coaxing tongues. Hands glided and caressed, memorizing with closed eyes and plush lips the feel and slope of their bodies while offering themselves bare to one another. And then, with silky legs wrapped around his waist, both gasped when he entered her.
He moved into her with firm, sensual thrusts while lovingly nestling his face into the smooth curve of her shoulder. In what remained of time, he was giving her everything he possibly could; from the future that can never be to the emotions with no names he showed her, and in return, was so overwhelmed with her, he thought he'd die in her arms and ascend to heaven.
And she embraced him tight, moist and warm. As the tender rhythm increased, she felt his soul rise inside her. She arched and ached beneath him, their centers pressing, wanting him to feel her heart pound, and then, when she felt her own soul swell then merge with his, she wept. This gave her strength. To be close with another. The sheer intimacy of offering and accepting.
"Buffy," trembling with her, he gazed down at her moon washed face. "I love you," he whispered to her lips, then melded his mouth with hers into a long, lingering kiss. Tears escaped his eyes, fell on to her temples and mixed with her own continuous tears. With her palms cupping his hollow cheeks, she nuzzled his face against hers. When a sob broke in her throat, she circled her arms taut around his neck. Crying, she yielded to his kisses. She whimpered as the feathery soft press of his lips trailed over her wet temples, the squinting of her eyes, the line dividing her brows, her quivering lips. And after they both shuddered when he filled her, he held her as she wept against his neck.
In the shadows of perfect silence, their skin hummed of pleasure, and their insides melted by love. Their legs were tangled together beneath the hot sheets, his strong arms enveloped her waist and with her cheek to his lips, left no space between them. They then drifted off to sleep forgetting that morning was soon nigh.
FIN
(I had really bad writers block, but this scene was playing in my head the night of the finale and had to get it out of my system so I can sleep. I hope this was easy to read and not too sappy.)
THERE IS NO END
At the sight of one another, they paused, letting the silence of memories and possibilities pass through the wide space between them. He looked at her, not caring she doesn't love him the way he wants because, whether they are a room or dimensions apart, they share a certain connection that can endure whatever lies beyond the end of this world.
They just stared at each other, the vampire and the slayer, the two who countlessly defied tradition and went against nature's set of engraved rules. But this was not the time for an examination of history or fearing the unknown future. What they wanted, what they had was now.
Almost at the precise moment, they walked slowly towards each other, closing that space between, and, locking gazes, the man faced the woman. She smelled of night air, he noticed, like the quiet breeze rustling the leaves while children dream of all things sweet in their beds. Moonlight was bright, polishing their faces and making his blue eyes glassy under low lids.
At his side, the amulet dangled from his fingers. She took it to her own and, foreheads barely touching, she hung it around his neck. For a second, she watched it glint in the silvery light, then placed her small palms over it. "A champion," she said with curved lips and swore she almost felt his heart beat. Her eyes met with his again and lost herself. "Can we..." Her whisper brushed his chin.
"...Be close," he finished, voice gone as dusky as her eyes. Then with her eyelids fluttering, she pushed up on her toes and rubbed her temple delicately against the line of his jaw. Feeling the softness of her hair and his blood tingling in response, he knew this gesture was an offering of herself with complete and unconditional trust in him.
"Closer," she murmured while easing back. She saw his eyes had clouded with love for her and held an understanding of what she was requesting because he wanted the same.
So, using the gentle skill of his pale hands, undressed her. He began with the clip in her hair, unfastening it to allow her blond hair to fall free like a curtain over her face, beautiful as sun. He gripped the lapels of her leather jacket then pulled it down her arms and dropped it to a pool at her feet, followed by the slow, sweet torture of unbuttoning her blouse. He watched her as he did this, watched her face in the moonlight go lax with pleasure and warmth. He watched her eyes darken when he skimmed his thumbs against the side of her breasts as he slid the fabric off her shoulders. And when he unzipped the fly of her jeans to then drag them and the lace down her hips, saw the pout of her lip quiver and moisten. Holding his hands for balance, she stepped own of her clothes, then stood before him in a revelation of moonlight and flesh.
The one coherent thought in his muddled mind was to hold her. But she went to him first and tucked the amulet underneath the collar of his shirt. It was her turn to watch him through the same haze of desire, her turn to watch the response on his face when she'd shed his clothes, break his barriers. But the moonlight and shadows of their surroundings began to blur, their blood bubble and breath strain. Their grasp on patience was gradually slipping when she dragged his jeans down, finding him hard and ready, and her mouth watered as his did when she pulled his shirt over his head, absently tossing it to the pile behind her.
With her breathing ragged into his mouth and their eyes heavy lidded, he lifted her in graceful stamina to his arms and carried her to his bed. There, he laid her down, stared at her for a space of heart beats before he kissed her. The press of lips was soft and savoring, but when he eased his weight on top her, it deepened welcoming coaxing tongues. Hands glided and caressed, memorizing with closed eyes and plush lips the feel and slope of their bodies while offering themselves bare to one another. And then, with silky legs wrapped around his waist, both gasped when he entered her.
He moved into her with firm, sensual thrusts while lovingly nestling his face into the smooth curve of her shoulder. In what remained of time, he was giving her everything he possibly could; from the future that can never be to the emotions with no names he showed her, and in return, was so overwhelmed with her, he thought he'd die in her arms and ascend to heaven.
And she embraced him tight, moist and warm. As the tender rhythm increased, she felt his soul rise inside her. She arched and ached beneath him, their centers pressing, wanting him to feel her heart pound, and then, when she felt her own soul swell then merge with his, she wept. This gave her strength. To be close with another. The sheer intimacy of offering and accepting.
"Buffy," trembling with her, he gazed down at her moon washed face. "I love you," he whispered to her lips, then melded his mouth with hers into a long, lingering kiss. Tears escaped his eyes, fell on to her temples and mixed with her own continuous tears. With her palms cupping his hollow cheeks, she nuzzled his face against hers. When a sob broke in her throat, she circled her arms taut around his neck. Crying, she yielded to his kisses. She whimpered as the feathery soft press of his lips trailed over her wet temples, the squinting of her eyes, the line dividing her brows, her quivering lips. And after they both shuddered when he filled her, he held her as she wept against his neck.
In the shadows of perfect silence, their skin hummed of pleasure, and their insides melted by love. Their legs were tangled together beneath the hot sheets, his strong arms enveloped her waist and with her cheek to his lips, left no space between them. They then drifted off to sleep forgetting that morning was soon nigh.
FIN
(I had really bad writers block, but this scene was playing in my head the night of the finale and had to get it out of my system so I can sleep. I hope this was easy to read and not too sappy.)