-Disclaimers: Title belong entirely to Gabriel Garcia, just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew, all other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics It's all Coming Back to me Now by Celine Dion.

-Summary: Series set 100 yrs after "the gift", Season five finale. This is part AU and futuristic. Spike has been alive for 100 hundred years after Buffy's death. Whistler comes to him to let him know that Buffy has been summoned to fight a new evil, therefore she will be brought back to life and needs a "guide". When Buffy wakes she finds that the only one to cling to is the only person that has survived since the time she was alive. This is a B/S fiction.

-Rating: Overall rating of series is R, but at times it will be NC-17. This part is NC-17!!

-Spoilers: I will mention everything that has happened through "The Gift".

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"If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity."

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There were nights when the wind was so cold
That my body froze in bed
If I just listened to it
Right outside the window

Spike did not recall how long he stood by the window watching the rare rain fall, making small puddles of mud on his garden below. He frowned, the floors would get dirty.

Then again here he was thinking of his new Persian carpets when his mind was trying to avoid the complications of his life. He thought he had gotten used to his life, gotten over SunnydaleSpike. Grown up, seen the world some more, been able to care for other women, going through a day without thinking of those he loved and died so long ago.

The only reason that he kept going was because of his own selfish desire to live, that and his responsibility. If it were not for him, what would happen to the young girls that got the surprise of their lives when he stopped by their house to let them know 'they were the lucky contestants' of a once in a generation gig.

He frowned. Why the complexities, why the complication? He thought he had gained the positive favor of the PTB, but no! Here they had to go and throw a curve ball at him and he let it hit him right on the balls.

Bloody Pillocks!

He was so into his thoughts that he did not hear her slip quietly into his bedroom and stalk up to him.

He jumped when she circled her arms around his waist and kissed his neck seductively.

"Jumpy tonight, aren't you?" she whispered to his ear.

"Didn't hear you come in, luv." He replied as he turned around and grabbed her. Without warning he plummed her mouth mercilessly and without a second thought.

She responded with the same ferocity meeting his every desire.

This is what he wanted, a good fuck. And if there was someone willing to give him that, with no strings attached, it was Opal.

She smelled like wildwood and citrus. Fresh, yet dark and inviting.

He trailed harsh kisses down her neck but she stopped him and gave him a seductive smile. "Got a convention tomorrow, can't go in looking like a leopard."

He smiled but disappointed inside. The neck was his area. But as long as she made him happy it was all good to him. He grabbed her roughly and tossed her on his bed, ripping her short skirt with a single blow.

She groaned. "This was a rare vintage Dolce and Gabbana!" she said sitting up.

"I'll buy you a new and improved Doce and Gabanna!" he groaned as she broke the mood.

"That's not the point, Spike!" she cried. "What is wrong with you?"

He sighed and groaned as his member throbbed with need.

"Can we just forget the bloody skirt?!"

She glared at him and stood up walking to the bathroom.

He contemplated going after her,.....his lower brain won sending him begging like a puppy.

"Pet, listen am sorry." he said half appologetic and half in protest.

She was brushing her long chocolate curls, she looked straight at the mirror. Her almond brown eyes threw daggers at him through the reflection where he didn't exist.

He sighed, she was impossible at times!

"Fine, have it your way, you know where the door's at," he walked away.

Opal paused and it took her less than a second to go after him. Without warning she walked up to him and swiftly untied his robe letting it slip to the floor.

He stood there before her in all his naked glory. Without looking at him or any time to play she bent down on both knees and bit him hard on the inside of his right thigh.

He groaned in pleasure, reaching out he held on to one of the posts of his four-post king size bed and braced himself for her amazing blow job.

Slowly she slipped her expert hand to his hardening balls, rolling them lightly between her fingers stopping to press softly on his pressure points.

Her mouth descended to his cock and lightly licked the pre-cum from the tip of his hardened shaft, slowly and deliberately she took him in. Inch by inch she licked and bit and scrapped until he was howling with pleasure as her hot mouth caressed and assaulted him.

Once he came she waited until he stopped shaking and went behind him, still on her knees. She reached out and seductively kissed his lower back, sending chills down his spine. She grabbed his perfect ass with her red painted fingernails and squeezed the hard muscle until he was aching in need. With her tongue she traced the crack between the mounds sending him shaking in need.

His own hand went down and grabbed his penis, massaging it back and forth as the tension filled his body. Then he felt her finger trust into his anal hole and he cried out in satisfaction. She pulled out her criminal finger as he slumped on to the bed exhausted and spent.

She peered at him placing her hands at her hips.

"God baby, that was...wonderful." He moaned as he tried to regain his strength.

She stared at him hard. "You needed it." she said coldly.

He lifted his gaze to stare at the half naked woman before him, with a questioning look in his eyes.

"In case you forgot my name is Opal, not Buffy." she said and picked up her skirt that was ripped and soiled and swiftly walked out of the room.

He threw himself back on the covers and blocked his eyes with his forearm. "Bloody hell." he moaned.

There were days when the sun was so cruel
That all the tears turned to dust
And I just knew my eyes were
Drying up forever

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He did not know why he was walking but he kept on walking through the dark cave. At times he thought he saw a light ahead, at others he thought he heard voices calling to him.

But eventually through the cave that smelled of rotting flesh he reached the entrance to the underground chamber. From above he could see her there, lying on top of a sacrificial throne. Dead she still looked beautiful. All pale and yet golden, dead yet still alive.

She was completely naked, but her hair had grown down to her buttocks and it was carefully arranged so that it covered her chest and groin.

At times he was disappointed at times he was glad. This was no time to ogle at her perfect body, it was time to save her, even dead she needed saving, and who did they turn to? Spike.

He saw as the priests walked in a line, covered with dark maroon hoods that hid their identities, there were four of them.

They chanted in ancient Latin, a language he knew yet couldn't understand at the moment.

The first priest stood in front of the body and took out a scalpel, it glistened in the gloomy cave but he knew exactly what it was.

He saw as the fine clean metal went for the girl's heart and stabbed her neatly and carefully, slicing an opening that revealed a dead heart.

The priest stepped back and looked at his art work, he turned and looked at Spike and shedded his hood.

It was Angel, he smiled at the younger vampire and said. "I took her heart."

The second priest stepped up and took out his own scapel, bringing it down her groin, he stabbed her and stood back in
admiration of his work.

He turned and looked at Spike, shedding his hood it revealed Parker. He gave Spike a cocky grin and said "I took her virtue."

The third priest stepped up to the now partly mutilated body and brought out his own scapel, slicing carefully her skull. He stood back and examined his work then turned to look at Spike. He shed his hood to reveal Riley who smiled at the blonde. "I took her normality."

The fourth priest stood infront of the body and brought out his own scapel, bringing it down, he stopped and saw the marking and mutilations the others had done, without touching her he turned and looked at Spike. Revealing his form Spike found himself staring at himself.

The hood-clad Spike shed a tear and looked back the girl. "I failed to protect her."

The slayer immediately opened her eyes and sat up rapidly. She screamed, a blood chilling scream that left Spike clutching at his ears. When she stopped he looked up at Spike who was looking down below.

"Help me!" she screamed. Spike instinctively moved to help her but his body did not move, he tried to curse but his tongue could speak no words. All he could do was watch as Angel, Parker, and Riley kept stabbing the screaming girl and the other Spike could not stop them.

"Help me, Spike! Help me!!!"

A scream.

Spike sat up in his bed, screaming.

"It was a dream, it was a dream, it was a dream." He consoled himself as he untangled himself from his silk sheets and jumped out of his black bed.

He ran his hands through his face as he shook the shivers out of himself.

He had not had that dream in years, almost fifteen years, that dream had stopped visiting him. He now remembered why he hated
it so much.

Bloody hell. He thought as he walked to his bathroom and splashed water on his face.

The water helped. He had stopped breathing involuntarily.

He looked at the mirror that ignored his presence. "Control, mate, got to keep it cool."

I finished crying in the instant that you left
And I can't remember where
or when or how
And I banished every memory
you and I had ever made

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He looked at the gold clock on the night table. 5:45 AM, it would be daylight soon.

Might as well get up. He thought. He had not been able to close his eyes since the nightmare. Tossing and turning was not his idea of a good night sleep.

As he stood he grabbed the disposed silk robe from the floor where Opal had let it drop the night before. Damn, Opal.....I'll deal with her later.

He reached out to the phone next to the clock on his night stand and it connected automatically to Jermina's line.

"Buenos dias, senor Guillermo," (Good morning, Mr. William.) the kind elderly lady said in the other line.

"Buen dia, Jermina. Porfavor disle a Efrain que venga a mi cuarto," (Mornin', Jermina. Please tell Efrain to come to my room.)

"Claro que si, senor." (Ofcourse, sir.) She paused. "Le traigo el desayuno?" (Shall I bring breakfeast up?)

"Solo mi café." (Only my coffee.) He responded.

"No quire huevos, ni jamon con tostadas?" (No eggs, or ham with toast?) She asked baffled.

Spike chuckled, this woman would not give up, always trying to feed him, saying he was unhealthily skinny. "No, gracias Jermina, buen dia." (No thank you, Jermina, have a good day.)

But when you touch me like this
And you hold me like that
I just have to admit
That it's all coming back to me

He hung up the line and went to run his water. By the time the shower was running Efrain was knocking at his door. Spike went to answer it letting the water run warm first.

The short Spanish man smiled at his master. "Buen dia." (Good morning)

Spike nodded at his greetings.

"Something needs to be done today before 8 pm." Spike said walking to his walk in closet and started selecting various pieces of clothing.

Efrain instinctively took out a handy mini-notebook and an attached pen, ready to take notes.

"We are going to have a visitor for a few days. A young lady, about twenty."

Efrain nodded knowing various things that had to be done first off.

"She'll need a complete wardrobe, down to shampoo and thongs. Spare no expense for this one, I want her to receive the very best."

Efrain raised his eyebrows but did not question.

"She'll also need a room, prepare the East wing. Make it red,...her bed sheets....silk red to be exact." He paused examining a pair of camel leather pants. "And lots of leather for her wardrobe. We will be leaving for Bogota the day after tomorrow. Make all the necessary arrangements with Diego. Please make her as comfortable as possible, she will be more disoriented than the rest. Oh, and....she doesn't know Spanish. Make sure Jermina knows that. She'll need to be feed, the chit's too skinny, Jermina will like that."

Efrain kept writing as his Senor went on.

"Oh...another thing." Spike paused and walked over to his servant. "She's just lost everyone she loved in this world. Mom, dad, kid sister, all her friends, and all her lovers....so please.....make it as comfortable for her. If she doesn't want something don't shove it down her throat. If she wants to cry in her room that's fine as long as her ass is in that plane when Diego is ready."

Efrain nodded. "Senor?" (Sir?)

"Si?" (Yes?)

"Otra matadora." (Another Slayer?) the man asked curious.

"No.....la matadora." (No.....the Slayer.)

When I touch you like this
And I hold you like that
It's so hard to believe but
It's all coming back to me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight O'clock came quickly and Spike jogged down his marble stair case to the garage door.

Efrain met him at the end of the steps. "Su carro esta listo, Senor Guillermo." (Your car is ready, Mr. William.)

"Gracias, Efrain. No llegare hasta las dos o tres de la manana. Esta todo listo para la Senorita?" (Thank you, Efrain. I won't be back until two or three in the monring. Is everything ready for the lady?) Spike asked fixing his custom design Rolex on his wrist.

"Claro, todo esta listo." (Or course, all is ready.) The man answered then handed over to Spike a black duffle bag and Rubio.

Spike nodded in thanks and walked out in to the night.

His entire trip to SanSebastian he was nearly shivering in anticipation. What was he going to tell her? "ehhh..'ello, Slayer never thought I'd see the likes of you again." or "Hello, Buffy. How 'r you feelin' after one hundred years of sleepin' like a baby.?"

He shook his thoughts.

There were moments of gold
And there were flashes of light
There were things I'd never do again
But then they'd always seemed right
There were nights of endless pleasure
It was more than any laws allow

He screeched his tires and landed parallel parked in front of the old Museum.

Stepping out of his car he saw the demon move out of the shadows.

"You're late Blondie."

"Yeah, well I had nothin' to wear." Spike retorted as he brought out Rubio and the duffle bag.

"Nice set of wheels you have there." Whistler said pointing to the black Vlaken convertible. "Used to be called Auston Martin in my time."

"Yeah, a few special modification for my 'special' line of work here and there, but she's hell on wheels."

"Gonna have to let me take her out for a spin one of these days." Whistler said looking over the sports car.

Spike snorted. "I'd rather you shag my woman."

"But you don't have one as of now. Gotta hand it to you, nothing like dumping trash while screaming another woman's name."
Spike growled.

"Down boy."

"Are we going to play patty-a-cake here all day?" Spike asked throwing the duffle bag at Whistler.

"What's this?"

Spiked walked to the front doors of the abandoned museum and flicked his hand revealing a 1 x1 remote control. The Vlaken answered him by doing a Batmobile move and completely sealing the car from intruders.

"Size four."

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"A very small degree of hope is sufficient to cause the birth of love."

Stendhal

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I kiss you like this
And you whisper like that
It was lost long ago
But it's all coming back to me
If you want me like this
And if you need me like that
It was dead long ago
But it's all coming back to me

He stared at the marble floors where the demon had placed the herbs, incense, and Wiccan objects to perform the chant. It would not be magic since the powers were the ones condoning it. It was more like an acceptance, a welcome of her body and soul.

The room was gloomy, not too bright, not too dark, just enough so a one hundred yr-old soul would not be frightened by her surroundings.

That was one of his responsibilities, once she opened her eyes he was to be the first she was to look at. A familiar face.

He hated his small job.

He hated this entire situation.

He hated the now chanting demon.

He hated the sick powers-that-be.

He was a royally pissed off vampire at the moment.

He watched in awe as the room began to shift temperatures. There was a time when he wouldn't noticed but after two hundred years his senses were at point blank.

Bright green light appeared before him and started taking shape as the demon continued to chant. He could hear voices and he remembered that Whistler told him those would be her soul and its memories returning to this world.

He heard Joyce, and Nibblet, and the Whelp, and Red, and the Watcher, and one he recognized as her father, then Angel and some Riley, bits of Tara and Anya and himself.

His features hardened. Those were voices that he had not heard in a long time, voices from the past, voices that hurt him even more than he was willing to admit.

Voices from past decades of gloomy and sorrow-filled days. A part of him, he thought, he had willingly lost and was now being placed on his face once more.

He remembered emotions he had felt and words he had spoken, promises he made and kept, people that slowly slipped effortlessly from his hands.

There were those empty threats
And hollow lies
And whenever you tried to hurt me
I just hurt you even worse
And so much deeper

Time was of the essence.

This time was essence embodied.

Before his eyes her figure was made, limb by limb, cell by cell, hair by hair.

It was a witness at creation that amazed him. The feeling of life in the room was choking. It circulated him and enveloped all his senses. Then he felt it....she was there.

That long gone feeling that twitched at his neck whenever she was around sent convulsive shivers down his neck and through his spine.

She was there.

There were hours that just
Went on for days
When alone at last
We'd count upall the chances
That were lost forever

The sweet sound of a heart beat, the sweet smell of her skin, the sweet feel of her skin. It was all her. She was back.

He stared in awe at the perfectly shaped nude body of his formal enemy and love and gaped in wonder.

After on hundred year of solitude and confinement, of not allowing himself to think of her and what she looked like, after thirty seven thousand, two hundred and thirty days he finally saw her. Flesh and bone, skin and breast. She was there.

He blinked twice as he stared at her perfection in complete fascination and jubilation, this was his day, His One. Good. Day.

She was not only there, because she had always been there as long as her scoobies and lil' bit was around. But she was here, with him.

He peered over her face when the bright light stopped shining and looked at her skeptically.

But you were history with the
Slamming of the door
And I made myself so strong
Again somehow
And I never wasted any of my time
On you since then

"Slayer?" he whispered.

Nothing happened, he waited. But patience was not his big quality.

"Buffy?"

Then it happened. She opened her eyes. She looked at him.

But if I touch you like this
And if you kiss me like that
It was so long ago
But it's all coming back to me

He almost fell back. Those bright green eyes that had not looked at him in over one hundred years were suddenly staring at him,
with life and character behind them.

She blinked trying to focus.

"Spike?"

If you forgive me all this
And I forgive you all that
We forgive and forget
And it's all coming back to me
When you see me like this
And when I see you like that
We see just what we want to see
All coming back to me
I can barely recall
But it's all coming back to me now

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