-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 by Celine Dion All By Myself and No Llores por el by Jorge Morel and Goo Goo Dolls, Iris.

-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.

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

-Distribution: The only people that have permission to post these series are those who already store my fic and have asked me for permission, if you want to post it please ask me I'll be happy to let you, I just want to know where my fic goes. Poem : Emily Dickinson.

-Author's Note: I adore Feedback, so please let me know what you think of the story so far! bih80reviews@yahoo.com

-Special Thanks: Trish for BETA reading this and her awsome feedback, Karla for listening to me rant, and One Good Day group may you be blessed with many chocolate covered naked Spikes! Thanks for all the reviews!

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"There was once a man who loved you too much to change you."

from First Knight

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She hit his jaw with her right leg and sent him flying across the room. She smiled at her improvement.

He glared at her as he stood up on the mat, bringing his hand to feel his jaw, she had almost dislocated it.

"Nice, luv, very nice."

"Had a good teacher." she said panting and in fighting pose.

"Is that so?" he asked stalking up to her, but instead of fighting her ran after her. Her blue eyes widened as she knew what was coming and she took of running and squealing.

"No, Spike! Please don't!" she cried out, but he was merciless and tackled her on the ground, tickling her until she screamed.

"Say mercy." he said stopping as he pinned her underneath his body.

She raised her head and fake-glared at him "Never."

He tickled her again. She squealed some more.

"Stop!!!" she cried laughing.

"Well that's convincing!" he said as his hands covered her.

"Get off me you overgrown bat!" she said with tears of laughter running down her now slim cheeks.

"What's wrong lil' bit? I though you were tougher than this?" He said stopping but still pinning her down.

She panted still giggling as she looked at him.

Her wide blue eyes had acquired a certain maturity since the ten years after her sister had died for her, for all of them.

Her now shoulder length wavy hair was sprawled out on the floor and her cheeks were flushed pink from perspiration and desire.

Without thinking she did what she had wanted to do for years and reached up and kissed him sweetly on his slightly parted lips.

It came out of no where and he was beyond stunned and mortified. He had not meant to give her thay type of signal.

He pulled back and stared at her in confusion. It was now him who was panting.

"I love you." she whispered as her bottom lip trembled slightly.

He eased off her still shocked beyond words. He sat on the mat next to her staring at the floor with open eyes and parted lips.

She laid out on the mat, still panting and not believing herself for what she had done.

Finally awoken from her hazy thoughts she sat up to look at him, he had not moved.

"Spike?" she asked placing her slim fingers on his bare shoulder. He didn't move.

"I know it's not like that for you. I know you still love her. I know you'll always see me as your little sister or maybe even your best friend, but........" she swallowed as tears swelled in her eyes. "But, me.....I'll always love you." she laughed a quietly. "Now I know how you must have felt."

He turned to look at the woman before him. She had turned out to be beautiful, even more gorgeous than his Buffy. But she was still not her.

Her eyes were still as wide and as expressive as ever, her baby fat had completely melted away, leaving behind sculpted cheekbones, and a rounded mouth making her an impressive 24 year old. Her hair took a natural wave once she turned 16 and was now slightly highlighted blonde. The light strands fell on her face ever so gentle as she looked at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Nibblet, it's not..."

"Please, Spike. Don't call me Nibblet." she said sadly.

A lump came to his throat. He had cared for this girl like it was his own and he had felt a change in her for the past, maybe five years. But he had decided to ignore it. He was just probably lonely.

"Sure, pet." he whispered.

She raised her hand to his sculpted cheek and ran her thumb across his face.

He closed hi eyes, when he was with her it felt like Buffy. As if it was Buffy's hand touching him and he knew it was not fair to her.

"John asked me to marry him." she said looking at him as his eyes shot open. There was that genuine father's worry in his eyes and it killed her even more.

"I said yes." she whispered.

"Dawn, you hardly know the guy." Spike said concerned. "I mean he could...."

She brought her finger to his lips and motioned him to shut up. She tilted her head slightly and leaned in to his ear, brushing it ever so lightly with her lips, her hand cupped his cheek as her tears burned his chest.

"Know this," she whispered. "You have been.....beyond words. And I will always, always, love....you."

She leaned back and looked at him, he looked like a mixture of hurt and confusion. "She was a blind not to love you, you're so easy to love." She told him as she stood up and walked out the training room.

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Spike was brought back from his memories as he approached his house. And there she would be. She would still be asleep by now, he had only been gone for a couple of hours. His shirt was ruined, and he had liked this shirt too.

Bugger. He thought. Damn Ghora Demon. Then again the creature could have reminded him is Dawn and of times so long ago, lost and gone forever.

He pulled his car up to the drive way as servants came out to greet him and this his vehicle away.

When Paola saw him emerge all dirty she ran upstairs to start his bath.

Jermina ran to the kitchen to get his blood heated up and Efrain ran to get his coat.

Within a half hour he was in his room with a warm cup of blood in his hand, freshly bathed and in his robe, and ready to plunge to bed.

He was brought back to reality when his door opened harshly.

He knew it was not one of his servants because they would never enter in that fashion, he knew it was not Buffy, she was knocked out, so it only lead to one explanation.

"Thought I'd never see you again." he said without turning back.

"I came to get my things, unless you have any other names to scream." Opal said as she walked in to his closet and started putting thing in her luggage.

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When I was young
I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun
Those days are gone

Buffy awoke form her deep sleep by the voices in the room next door. She would have normally ignored it except it was Spike's and another woman.

For some reason this did not settle well in her stomach and she stood from her silk blankets to check if her elgs worked.

They did, apparently Whistler the Weasel was right.

She felt a bit shaky but perhaps she just needed to eat, she had not been able to eat since she had gotten to his house.

Pushing herself out of bed she grabbed her robe, that was tended to the side of her bed and walked slowly and unsurely to the large oak door.

As she moved the noises grew louder, she asked herself why should she care that Spike has found another ho', but it did and they were clearly arguing.

She moved out to the hallway and followed the voices to were she stood before the large oak door. A woman was talking and she strained to listen to their conversation, but for some reason her normally high Slayer senses were failing her now, she had to remember to ask Spike about that.

As she did her spying she pushed out of her mind all the reasons as to why she was doing this, it was Spike and he could do whatever the hell he wanted with his life. Not her problem and she didn't care, it's just.....

But before she could finish the thought she heard footsteps from the inside walking towards the door, she quickly backed up and ready to sprint to her room, when her still shaky legs gave out from underneath her and she fell flat on her butt.

She tried to stand up frantically, she would be majorly mortified if she were caught in her spying. But it was too late, the door opened.

She gulped in humiliation and slowly looked to see who had caught her. Please not Spike. She chanted.

Before her stood a woman. A beautiful woman. She must have been in her late twenties, a complete look alike of Catherine Zeta Jone. Long black hair cascading to her mid-waist, shinny and wavy. Her eyes were large and brown, very expressive and very seductive. Her lips were painted red, against her olive skin and her nose was thin and elegant. She had high cheekbone that gave her a movie-star appearance. Poised, she was quite the lady, dressed in a perfectly pressed ivory suit, fitted so that her large chest would show just a hint of classic cleavage. Her hand was at her hip and she glared down at the slayer.

"And who might you be," she asked. She must be Spanish, Buffy thought, her accent was light but palpable.

She stammered until she saw Spike come up behind the dark beauty and look over her shoulder.

Oh God, could this get any worse? She asked herself.

"Buffy? What the bleeding hell are you doing up and 'bout?" he asked passing right by the woman and to lend Buffy a helping hand.

"I.....I was just..." she started.

"You're Buffy?" the woman asked but looked at Spike immediately.

Spike groaned. He was not in the mood.

"I thought you were leaving, Opal." he stated helping Buffy back up.

Opal smiled sweetly at Buffy and walked up to her. Spike narrowed his eyes at his ex-girlfriend.

"Picking them kinds young, aren't you?" she asked Spike but looked at Buffy up and down.

Buffy shrunk against her gaze, it was like a female defending what was hers.

"Get the hell out." Spike hissed.

Opal threw her luggage over her shoulder and walked around Buffy, still smiling and called out to her over her shoulder. "He loves a good blow job."

Buffy eyes went wide in embarrassment. This was getting ridiculous. She couldn't bear to look at Spike, and he was in his robe and by the looks of it, nothing else.

Spike sighed and looked at the Slayer. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled.

"Ex-girlfriend?" Buffy asked looking at his irritated face.

"Shagging partner." He stated and walked to his door. "Go to bed, Slayer. You have a long day ahead."

"Spike!"

He turned to look at her. But she didn't know what to say.

He waited.

She looked down to her hand, fidgeting. "Uhm......."

"Slayer, why were you here?" He asked gazing at her. She was uncomfortable and he knew it.

"I heard noises." she stated with wide eyes.

"Noises?" he asked leaning against his door frame.

"Yeah, like talking." she said nodding. God this was terrible. She thought.

"Pet, there are fifteen people that reside in this house, you'll always hear talking," he said, clearly amused by her uncertainty.

"Good to know," she said. "Well then, goodnight." She turned and headed to her room.

He watched her retreat and said nothing. Just shook his head and went into his room.

Nope, this was definitely not her Spike. Her Spike would have tagged after her until she told him to drop deader, this one just looked at her and made her feel......beneath him.

This was like some bad nightmare, where Spike was even more confident and more conceited, and she was a mumbling idiot who snuck about trying to hear the conversations that he had with his shagging partner.

Maybe sleep was good, maybe she'll wake up.

Livin' alone
I think of all the friends I've known
When I dial the telephone
Nobody's home

All by myself
Don't wanna be
All by myself
Anymore

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The room was lit brightly, and though a small wedding it was a beautiful wedding. He wandered the room saying hello to the few people he knew, being a gentleman for her sake.

To make her proud.

And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

The bow tie at his neck had long gone since they had walked out of the chapel, he's be damned if he wore that nancy boy outfit all evening long.

Though she had not seen him, she had watched from the shadows. He remembered looking at her cascading white dress and thinking how Buffy would have liked to see her.

Then a pang hit his chest as he remembered that he had to be Buffy's eyes, see all she would never see, experience all that she would never feel.

Out of the crowd he spotted the bride.

He smiled in pride.

She was beautiful.

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
'Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

Her long curls had been pinned lightly and naturally to the top of her head, tiny tendrils fell on her forehead as she bent down and kiss Alexander on the forehead. Anya held him proudly in her arms.

Again he looked at the scene and wished that Buffy could have seen it.

She looked up and saw him coming, her face lit up as he approached.

He could feel the love radiating to him like a wave of force. He smiled sadly. He had to let her go.

She was a complete woman now, with a husband and soon kids, and the white house with the picket fence that would come once she moved to Jersey.

She was leaving him. They thought it for the best.

But it still killed him inside. She was all he had left of Buffy, with her gone he was in complete solitude.

She walked up to him and met him half way. They didn't speak. Her blue eyes searched his face like she always did and she extended her gloved hand.

"Dance with me?" she asked him. He nodded and took her out to the dance floor.

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

They got as close as her large fluffy dress would let them. He held her small waist with his firm hand and she relaxed against his embrace.

Slowly they swayed.

Not a word was spoken.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

She rested her head on his shoulder and he could smell the vanilla perfume from her hair, it reminded him of.......

She held him closer, feeling his firm body press against her bodice, her nipples answered to her need. This was her wedding day, the happiest day of her life, yet she felt like screaming at the unfairness of it all.

"Buffy would be so proud," she whispered to her ear.

She smiled and silently agreed.

She did miss her sister, all would have turned out so differently if she was still with them.

"And your mom," he continued.

A small tear ran down her cheek full of loss for her sister, mother, and this man she loved so much.

"You cryin', pet?" he asked looking at her.

She nodded.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Because I am so happy." she lied.

He nodded in understanding, he could always tell when she was lying to him and to any other person.

"You didn't have to marry him, you know." he told her.

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

"I know."

"Then why did you?"

Silence as they danced, so close she could hardly breathe but didn't complain.

"Because I can't have you."

He woke from his dream panting and remembering the sad memory. He looked out the star filled sky and hung his head. Yeah she'd be real proud. He thought.

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She woke several hours later and instantly questioned where she was at. Why wasn't she in her room?

Then it dawned on her.

Her entire existence had changed. All those she loved were dead, all that was left was her and...him.

She wanted to bury herself in her pillow and stay there in the darkened room until life would expire out of her.

But she heard Paola come into the room and open the curtains singing at the same time.

"Estas son las mañanitas que contaba el rey David, a las muchachas bonitas, te la cantó yo a ti...." (These are the lovely morning that King David sung about, to all the pretty ladies, I will sing them now to you...) She sung as she went about in the room.

Buffy groaned,....and she thought her morning alarm as bad!

She reluctantly got off the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

By the time she was ready to dress she walked over to her closet. Astounded as she found it filled with clothes. From gorgeous ball gowns to little details of lingerie. She silently wondered if any of these had belonged to Opal.

But the tags on everything told her otherwise.

The clothes were a bit futuristic but not much change.

Everything was designer clothes, she silently wondered how much money Spike had and how the hell he had come by it.

Probably stole it. She thought.

She grabbed a pair of dark denim jeans that were coincidentally her size and a tight white tank top. It was relatively hot here in Spain.

Though she was extremely depressed she wished to go out and look at the city, she had never been to Spain before and never did she thing she would ever get to go.

Pulling on her clothes she grabbed a pair a strappy sandals and headed downstairs.

She could hear music coming from below, it was classic Spanish music, the rhythm filled the large house and she was instantly drawn to it. The male voice filled the room.

Embes de ponerte a pensar en el (Instead of thinking of him)

Embes que vivas llorando por el (Instead of living crying for him)

Piensa en mi, llora por mi, llamame a mi (Think of me, cry for me, call me)

No lo le hables a el, a el, no llores por el (Don't talk to him, to him, don't cry for him)

She walked down the large stair case and she noted how much strength her legs had acquired. Paola came from behind her and guided her to the living area.

The house must have cost him a couple of millions, she thought.

They entered the living area were Spike had the entertainment system playing at a loud voice.

He was dressed completely in ivory and white.

He had on ivory linen pants that hung loosely around his legs and a white cotton short sleeve shirt that was completely unbuttoned, sharing his perfectly sculpted chest with the rest of the world.

Piensa en mi, llora por mi, llamame a mi (Think of me, cry for me, call me)

No lo le hables a el, a el, no llores por el (Don't talk to him, to him, don't cry for him)

He turned to look at her and gave her a small smile, but it was a smile of pity. Like poor girl.

He walked to meet her and she tried to concentrate on his face instead of his bulging eight pack that was playing peek-a-boo with her.

She smiled a little, trying to ease the discomfort.

"Bachata." he said.

She looked at him like he had grown a second head. "What?"

"Bachata." he repeated. "The music, it's called bachata." he said looking at her.

She nodded. "Oh....it's nice,....all Spanish and stuff."

He smiled at her astute comment and extended his hand.

She looked at the hand as if it would bite her.

"What?" she asked confussed by his actions, he was being different than yesterday and silently swore as she realized she was dealing with a vampire on PMS.

"Dance, it's called dancing." he said with his hand still out.

She looked faint, here was Spike, looking so....she was not going there and he was asking her to dance some dance she had no idea how to.

She shook her head. "I don't know how to dance this." she told him lightly wishing he would drop the subject and that he would button up his shirt.

He smirked at her and she aw for an instant that same cocky Spike she had come to.....well appreciate.

Without warning he snaked his arms around her and pressed her against his chest, grabbing her hips tightly and touching nothing with his other.

She looked at him with wide eyes. His chest was pressed against her intimately, the coldness of him shivered her to the core, and he smelled of cigaretts and cologne.

He gently swayed his hips against her pelvis until she was beet red with embarrassment. She tried to push him off but her arms had decided to ignore her plea so she was stuck at looking at him. His dark gaze was not with her. For him it was only a dance, a way to have fun, and here she felt like a bitch on heat.

Recurda que hace mucho tiempo to amo (Remember I've loved you for a very long time)

Quiero hacerte muy, muy feliz (I want to make you so happy)

Vamos a tomar el primer avión (Lets take the first flight)

Con destino a felicidad (As destiny, our happiness)

La felicidad, para mi eres tu (Mi happiness, for me it is you)

She thought she would die, her heart rate sped up as he pressed closer to her and began singing the lyrics in her ear, his English accent giving the Spainish words a sexy curve that felt like melting in her ear.

She was sure she was radiating heat, she felt hot all over, gasping almost for breath, she prayed the song would stop so she could run in embarrassment at her body's reaction.

He was having the time of his life. Opal had never liked to dance in private, only in public where she could show off. And Buffy, well he knew he was making her uncomfortable and was greatly enjoying it, even though the words to the song hit home, he ignored the feeling of comfort he was receiving by having her petite body so intimate with his.

Piensa en mi, llora por mi, llamame a mi (Think of me, cry for me, call me)

No lo le hables a el, a el, no llores por el (Don't talk to him, to him, don't cry for him)

Piensa en mi, llora por mi, llamame a mi (Think of me, cry for me, call me)

No lo le hables a el, a el, no llores por el (Don't talk to him, to him, don't cry for him)

The song faded as the sad voice left the room.

Spike stood back to look at the very flushed Slayer and smiled. "That wasen't so bad, was it Slayer?"

She could only nod.

He turned and looked at Paola. "Breakfest in my office." he told her and she scurried off.

He looked at Buffy was a healthy shade of pink and looking at him in astonishment. "It's only dancing, pet. Don't get yer knickers in a twist." he said and turned down the hall. "Are you coming?" he called after her.

Buffy shook herself off her trance.

She replayed the events in her head. Spike's chest, dancing with Spike, getting turned on by Spike, being embarrassed by Spike. She narrowed her eyes and the Slayer shone through. It was time for the bitch to come out.

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She followed him shortly to find him talking to himself.

She glared at the vampire like he had finally lost his rocker.

"No! I need it for tomorrow afternoon, you goon.......well make it happen! What the hell am I paying for, to play with your dick?....call operations and let them know who it is and my situation!!.....Or course they know who I am!.....you've got two hours to tell me it's a go or they'll be finding you body parts a millennium."

He cut the connection by pulling out the ear piece.

Buffy had tried to ignore the colorful conversation that Spike was having with whoimever it was and wondered about his office. It was dark and looked very old English style. Thick carpets, cherry wood, bourbon, shelves of books.

But is was very amplious. Almost as large as her room. There were two large arm chairs made out of wine leather with gold pillows that looked as hard as the chairs, she guessed no one used them.

She saw frames on top of his desk and went to see what slut did he have there.

The face that looked back at her made her heart stop.

Spike hung up with his pilot and turned to look at her.

He gulped when she found the pictures, he should have put them away.

She reached out and stretched out her hand to touch the frame, tears formed in her eyes.

"Tell me everything." she whispered.

He looked at her and nodded, it was time for her to know the truth.

He motioned for her to sit down. She did, taking one of the hard armchairs, with the stuffy gold pillows.

He paced the room for a while then stopped and took the chair across from her, taking an unneeded breath.

"Right then, after you died......"

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Kelly: You hated being alone. Couldn't stand it. Busy every minute. Always plugged into something.

Chuck: I didn't know what really being alone was. No one back here does.

from Cast Way

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