Eternal Love
DISCLAIMER: We own nothing except our original story idea. The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it’s characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, et al. We are merely borrowing them and promise to return them when we are done.
PAIRING: We could tell you, but that would spoil the story!
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Season 5, up to and including, “The Gift.”
SUMMARY: Again, we could say, but that would spoil things!
DISTRIBUTION: THC, anyone else, ask and ye shall receive.
The warm summer breeze caressed her face, gently waking Buffy out of a deep sleep. The songs of birds perched just outside the open window were happy and melodious, something that she rarely heard anymore. Buffy missed the sounds of birds singing in the early morning. All the songbirds left Sunnydale; things as sweet and innocent as songbirds avoided living near the Hellmouth.
“Buffy, wake up, breakfast is ready.”
“Hmm, don’t wanna… tired.” She muttered, turning over on her side, away from the low, powerful voice.
“Just wanna sleep a little longer.”
She heard a soft chuckling. “Okay, but you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Her eyes snapped open and she quickly sat up in bed, surprised and shocked. Surely she was dreaming, that voice… she’d heard it before. She listened to footsteps walk out of the room and descend the stairs, but didn’t have a chance to glimpse who’d spoken to her.
Looking around the room, she saw nothing that was familiar, so she knew she wasn’t home in her bedroom. This room was designed in a rustic style and Buffy was lying in an elevated country style king-size bed, blanketed with a beautiful handmade quilt and matching shams.
The walls were paneled in knotty pine and the dresser, nightstand, and wingback chair were all country style like that of the bed.
“I don’t think we’re in Kansas any more, Toto.” Buffy said to herself. The last thing she remembered was diving off the tower into a multi-dimensional portal and now she’d awakened here.
“But, where is here?”
Looking over to the nightstand, she noticed several framed pictures.
“Strange, maybe they can shed a little light.”
Picking up one, then another, and another, her eyes nearly popped out of her head from surprise. All the pictures were of her and Riley taken during that period of time when they were happy together before Dracula drew her into his thrall. One picture was of the two of them playing football on the beach, a second of them sitting on a blanket having a picnic, a third taken the day after Riley had returned from D.C. and they celebrated his honorable discharge from the military.
She missed Riley so much. Every morning since he left, she’d wake up thinking ‘today I’ll make it up to him…today I’ll tell him how much I love him.’ But today never came; only more pain, depression, death and the never-ending darkness.
Buffy longed for those happy days again, but shaking her head, she knew that was highly unlikely. Riley was somewhere in the jungles of South America fighting to save mankind, just like her. Riley wanted to be needed and there he was. Buffy hoped he was able to find some happiness.
The delicious aroma of breakfast wafted upwards toward her. She swore she could smell bacon and eggs being fried and pancakes grilled. And she knew it wasn’t her imagination that someone was puttering around downstairs in the kitchen, because she heard a spatula scraping along the bottom of a pan and food being spooned onto a plate.
Buffy’s curiosity was growing rapidly, as was the hunger in her stomach, so she slipped out of bed determined to find out how she’d gotten there. Looking down, she noticed that she was wearing her usual gray flannel drawstring pants and blue spaghetti strap shirt. But what seemed odd was that she vaguely remembered sleeping in someone’s strong arms, and it had felt so good and so right.
Creeping out of the room, she still heard someone walking around in the kitchen, but looking down the stairs she couldn’t see him. He moved back and forth just out of sight.
Buffy took a moment to glance around at her surroundings. She was in the upper level of a two-level log cabin. The hallway overlooked a two-story living room that housed a native stone fireplace reaching the peak of a cathedral wood beamed ceiling. A fire crackled loudly in its grate. Glass doors and floor to ceiling windows framed the fireplace. The living room, like the bedroom, was furnished with beautiful country furniture and antiques. Outside Buffy could see the cabin was built on top of a knoll, which contained a 180-degree view of what appeared to be the Smoky Mountains.
The smell of breakfast was overpowering and *so* good. Was that hickory-smoked bacon she smelled? And the pancakes reminded her of those special breakfasts her mother had often prepared for her after a long, difficult night of patrolling. Buffy was hungry and quickly descended the stairs.
“Hello?” She called out when she reached the bottom step.
No one answered, but she could still hear plates being set on the table and a glass being filled.
“Who’s here?”
Again, not a word.
“Yoo-hoo, do you know where we are?”
Silence.
Buffy walked into the kitchen but no one else was in the room. There on the table was a single place setting with the plate filled to the brim with buttermilk pancakes, fried eggs, and bacon. Beside the plate was a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice. Buffy tasted the juice, whoever had made it had gone to the trouble of hand-squeezing the oranges.
She was so confused. Buffy could’ve sworn she’d heard someone walking around the kitchen just moments before she entered. And that scent lingering just inside the doorway, a scent so familiar to her, “Old Spice After Shave” she was sure of it. Whenever she smelled it, it reminded her of Riley. Xander used to kid Riley because he never wore expensive colognes.
“Why waste your money buying me these, Buffy? I was raised only wanting and appreciating the simple things. Blame it on my country upbringing.” He said to her after trying on fragrances one day.
“But Riley, I want to give you something special.”
“I already have something special.” He insisted, giving her that special smile.
Buffy sat down to a delicious breakfast. She only wished whoever had prepared it would show himself because she didn’t like being alone.
The pancakes were so wonderful, light and fluffy served with actual maple syrup. The cook only wanted her to have the best; no Mrs. Butterworth’s or Log Cabin was served here.
Buffy was just taking her final bite when she heard someone walking around upstairs in the bedroom.
Quickly lying down her fork, she got up from the chair and ran to the foot of the stairs. Looking up, she saw no one, but definitely heard an individual moving about the bedroom.
“Hello?”
There was no answer, but the sound of someone walking from one end of the room to the other was clearly heard.
“Who’s up there?”
No words, only footsteps that caused the wood floor to creak.
“Answer me, please?” She pleaded.
Buffy didn’t want to have to admit it, but she was getting scared.
“Okay, you’re starting to piss me off now. If you don’t answer, I’m coming up there and believe me, you don’t ever want to see me pissed.”
She heard the mysterious being walk toward the bedroom door, but just as he was about to make an appearance, he halted.
“Okay, smart ass, you asked for it.” She said, running up the stairs and taking them two at a time.
“You think you’re so damn funny…”
Buffy stood in the doorway in shock. The room was completely empty and silent. But what drew her attention was the bed, it had been made and the pictures on the nightstand rearranged back to their original positions before she had picked them up to look at them.
She quickly entered and looked around the room. Except for the bed and pictures, it appeared no one had ever entered. Looking into the adjoining bathroom, Buffy confirmed her suspicions; it was empty, but she noticed it was filled with all her personal toiletries.
“How did they get here? God, how did I get here?”
And the scent of “Old Spice” lingered in the air.
Terror was starting to overtake her and this normally calm, strong individual was slowly falling apart.
“Get a grip, Summers, somebody’s playing a cruel joke and when you get your hands around their scrawny neck…”
A door downstairs opened and then slammed shut. Buffy could hear someone walk down a gravel path toward the back of the cabin. Running over to the window, she craned her neck trying to see who it was that insisted on playing with her mind. She could just catch a glimpse of a man’s leg as he walked away from the cabin toward the hardwood forest that edged the back yard.
“Hey, mister, come back here! I want to talk to you. Mister! Hey, you!” She shouted out the open window.
She only heard his footsteps fading away as he walked out of sight.
“Oh, no you don’t!” She said angrily. “No one pulls crap like this on Buffy Summers and gets away with it.”
Turning away from the window, she literally ran back down the stairs to the kitchen. The sight that greeted her eyes was unbelievable. She had only been upstairs for a few minutes, but coming back down she was surprised to see the kitchen had been completely cleared. The dishes were washed and now lay drying in the rack. There were no mixing bowls, frying pans or bottles of syrup in sight. Everything had been cleaned up and put away, as if nothing had been prepared and set out for her.
“Just too weird.” She said, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Like something out of Tales From the Crypt.”
Walking to the back door, Buffy couldn’t help but open it and peer outside. She could still hear the birds singing and see mountain laurel along with rhododendrons blooming among the oak and maple trees.
In the distance, she heard the distinct sound of water rushing over the imbedded rocks lying in a stream somewhere. She also thought she could hear a waterfall, but then again it could’ve been her imagination. Just like this entire thing could very well be her imagination. Was this all a dream? Was she going to wake up in her own bed with Dawn yelling up at her from the foot of the stairs?
As she stood there in the doorway of the cabin, she decided that she *had* to find out who the mystery man was. Glancing down at her attire, she came to the quick conclusion that she wasn’t exactly dressed for a romp through the woods. Did she have any other clothing upstairs, though? There was only one way to find out. She bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Back in the bedroom, she began rummaging through the closet and the dresser drawers in search of something to wear. She found jeans, tee shirts, and various other items all in her size, including several different pairs of shoes. A part of her thought that she should probably be surprised by this, but in the short time since she’d awakened that morning, she had learned to take nothing for granted in her current situation.
Buffy snagged a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a zippered warm up jacket. She quickly shed her pajamas and put the clothes on. After yanking on a pair of tennis shoes, she was back down the stairs and heading out the door, taking off in the direction in which the mysterious man had gone. As she traipsed through the woods, she had to take a moment to admit to herself that wherever she was, it sure was beautiful.
There were trees of every kind, shape, and size. She suddenly wished she had paid more attention in the botany class she’d taken back at UC Sunnydale so that she could know the names of what she was looking at. Having no idea which direction the man had headed, she acted on instinct and walked toward the sound of the stream. Something told her that there was a very good possibility that that is where he had gone.
Suddenly, there was a break in the trees, and the babbling brook was right in front of her. Glancing first in one direction, then another, she drew in a sharp breath. He was here! Or, at least *a* man was here, so she assumed he was the one who had been with her in the cabin earlier. His back was to her and she didn’t think he was aware of the fact that he was no longer alone. He seemed to be occupied with skipping small rocks across the water’s surface.
She stayed where she was and took a moment to study him. He was tall, that was for sure. It appeared that he probably had a good foot or so on her in height. He was also very broad shouldered and as he skipped rocks, Buffy could see the ripple of muscle beneath the tee shirt he was wearing. For some reason, the sight of those muscles moving caused a pleasant thrill to course through her.
As her eyes traveled lower, she could tell that his broad shoulders and back tapered off into a much trimmer waist and lean hips. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans that fit him like a second skin, showing off a nice backside, and well-toned thigh and calf muscles. Another delightful shiver ran through her as she continued to study him.
With his back turned to her, she had no idea what his face looked like or what color his eyes were. His hair was a nice shade of dark blonde, though, and the sun was hitting it just right, making the golden highlights in it shimmer. There was just something so familiar about him, as if she knew who he was.
Suddenly, his head turned and he was glancing back over his shoulder at her. She froze, not knowing whether she should turn around and run back in the direction of the cabin. That was silly, though, considering that he knew where the cabin was and wouldn’t have any trouble following her there if she did run. So, she stayed her ground and watched him to see what he was going to do.
As she stood there, he turned around fully, and in that instant, she knew exactly who he was.
The story continues in chapter 2
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