The Dedicated --Part 18 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--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.

-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 left from her past. This is a B/S fiction.

-Rating: Overall rating of series is R. (Language and Violence) THIS PART IS A VERY STRONG 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 archive my fiction 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 fiction goes.

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

-Special Thanks: Wendy and Nmissi for the BETA and their awesome feedback *g*

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“The ‘ell you will!” Spike exclaimed at Buffy’s declaration. She turned to look at him impassively.

“She’s right, she’s the only one can do it. Besides - it’s her job,” Zeta added. The low growl coming from Spike’s throat impressed upon her the need to say no more.

“You.” Spike pointed to Buffy. “In the hall, now!” He pointed to the door. “And you!” He indicated Lucy with another wave of the hand. “Find a another way in, now!” He then attempted to muscle Buffy out of the room, but she was having none of it. Resisting, with her arms crossed over her chest, she stared him down. He stopped short, clenching fists at his sides. He knew with her stubbornness that this approach was not working. Swallowing his pride, he took another tack. “Please,” he whispered.

Buffy pulled away from him, her body loosening up as the tension left it. She lifted herself up onto the counter and relaxed her arms on her bent knees. The smile she gave him filled his heart with dread. “Here’s what we’ll do…”

“Slayer,” Spike warned. Damn, but she was stubborn!

Buffy ignored him. “Lucy, you make sure we’re ready- everything prepped for the operation. Mario, you come up with a backup plan in case something goes wrong. Dalton, look the diagram over very carefully- we have to know everything down to the last detail. Troll, can you whip me up some kind of protection spell? You know- magical cover that makes it so they don’t see us approaching the gates. Zeta, can you make some tea for Vanessa—I want her to sleep though the day—she’d hate to stay by herself. Spike- You come with me.”

She jumped up and walked out into the hall, leaving perplexed players in her wake. Spike’s jaw tightened. “Well kiddies, you just witnessed a real Slayer in action,” he offered mournfully. Then he followed the blonde out into the hall.

Mario was leering appreciatively after Buffy. Lucy gaped at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re a pig,” she flatly stated.

He smiled self-confidently, leaning back a little. “What man doesn’t like a strong woman?”

“I don’t,” said Dalton as he cleaned his gun barrel.

Mario gave him a dirty look. “You’re supposed to be on my side here, man!”

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

“Buffy…” Spike began.

She cut him off by placing her hand on his lips. “Just listen to me, alright?”

He locked eyes with her and sighed. “Pet, it’s dangerous.”

She smiled. “I know.”

“You could die,” he continued.

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to do it,” he tried.

“I know.” She gave him a radiant smile, and he basked in its warmth, almost inhaling the air around her.

“I love you.” His voice was brusk, and bitter with emotion.

The smile went up in wattage. “I know.”

He reached for her hand, her small white fingers that held such power. Gently, reverently, he pressed kisses against the tips of each digit.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him.

He laced their fingers together and snaked his hand around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “I know.” He offered her a conciliatory smile of his own, then. “It’s just strange, you know. Having you back and all—‘m used to having things done my way. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you are when you’re in control.”

She leaned in to him. “You think I am beautiful when I am in control?”

He touched her check lightly. “Pet, you’re beautiful all the time.”

She sighed. She could only imagine what he had been through. All those years, all alone. The thought made her want to give him anything, everything, to make it up to him, to make it better.

She tugged on him suggestively. “Let’s go upstairs,” she said.

“But…” he protested. But it was a token protest- the look in her eyes warmed his cold blood. He let her lead him up the stairs and into the penthouse, and on into the living room.

“Sit here,” she said, gesturing to the sofa. He eyed her suspiciously as she headed into the kitchen. Then he shrugged off his coat and tried to relax on the soft leather couch.

She came back with two mugs and a smile. “Hot chocolate,” she said, handing him a cup. He gratefully accepted it.

“Thanks, pet.”

She settled in next to him, relaxing as he placed an arm around her shoulders. Her head rested on his chest as he absently stroked her hair.

“I still don’t want you to do it,” he said, taking a sip from his cup.

Buffy looked up at him—he looked like he was far away, dreaming of times long ago.

“Hey,” she whispered, bringing him back to reality.

He smiled sheepishly at her. “Sorry, just thinking I’m ‘bout to wake up any moment and just…”

“Be all alone here?” she finished for him.

He sighed and held her closer. “I don’t know if I could take that, pet. I’ve lost so much….”

Buffy put down her cup and took his from his shaky hand. “Come here,” she said. She tugged his arm, gently pulling his head onto her lap. She stroked his gelled locks until they softened and lost all semblance of their styling.

“Don’t know why he never told me,” Spike said, looking up at her. Buffy knew he was talking about Sammy. It was best to let him talk. So many things had happened in the last twenty-four hours that she felt exhausted. What then must it be like for him?

“Maybe he thought it was for the best,” Buffy soothed. He sighed and looked away from her. “Think about it, what would you have done five years ago if you had found out there was a little girl out there somewhere, made out of me?”

Spike agreed with her. He would have handled it worse. He reached out and laced their fingers together again.

Buffy relaxed into the perfect moment. This all just felt so right. Almost as if it were outside of time, outside of the trouble that was brewing all round them.

“Gonna miss them, gonna miss them so much,” he said longingly.

She continued stroking his hair, but said nothing.

“I remember when Sammy was born. It’s all surreal. You see them as tiny tots, then you see them married, you see their children…then you see them dead. Dead trying to protect my daughter—she was my responsibility to protect, never theirs,” he said.

Buffy gently leaned in and brushed her lips against his. He looked at her startled—not expecting the bold move now. Letting go her hand he reached up and caressed her cheek , and her hair.

“So glad you’re here…for however long I am allowed to have you,” he said. His eyes grew glassy.

“Not going anywhere,” she promised, leaning in to his touch.

Era vagabundo de la calle (I was a street bum)
Dormia en pisos sucios y solitarios (I slept on lonely and dirty floors)

Y mi mente me recordabe de unas cosas (And my mind would remind me of things)

Tus ojos claros y labios de rosa (Like your light eyes and sweet pink lips)
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he begged softly.

She felt as if she were almost drowning in the blue deeps before her. Clear and honest eyes that spoke hunger, loss, and strength. She could hardly breathe as she felt his touch—a touch that was reassuring—and the only way she would loose it was if she walked away from it. She leaned down and kissed him again. But he didn’t move. She drew back almost hurt and disappointed but the light sparkle in his eyes told her he was teasing.

“Say it,” he said.

She looked back at him confused. “Say what?”

He looked back at her, passion rapidly filling his eyes as he became acutely aware of her closeness. The warmth of her body so near, her perfect little breasts temptingly close.

Breasts that begged to be touched and teased, licked and caressed. Unconsciously he licked his lips and gave her a sly grin.

“I told you I would not kiss you again until you say something,” he sighed. “But I guess I’ll never kiss you since you said that I would never hear that from your lips,” he said—now studying her lips, so close, so full and inviting. Pink with shiny gloss, parted slightly to expose the barest hint of perfect teeth.

A light in Buffy’s head clicked as she realized what he was asking. She carefully traced her finger along his jaw, up into his chiseled cheekbones. The perfect frame for a strong, beautiful face.

“Should I say that you’re handsome?---No that sounds too, what is it that you call it…poofy?” she grinned playfully. “Maybe I should say that you’re dangerous and exciting…that’s a turn on—right?” she went on..

Too late—he was already turned on and her stalling was too much for his impatient nature. He grabbed her wrist and in one swift movement he was the one on top of her. She let him lay her down on her back. He pressed himself up against the rising heat between her legs, and all rational thought departed.

“Say it,” he growled. He leaned in and licked a trail from her neck to the lobe of her ear. She gasped and arched up at him. She moaned as he nibbled her ear. Then he pulled his head away and smiled down into her flushed face triumphantly.

Y cuato you daria por besarte (I would give anything to kiss you)

Sentir tus labios contra los mios (To feel your lips against mine)

Amarte con todo lo que soy (To love you with everything I am)

Y vivir mi vida aqui a tu lado (And spend my life by your side)

“Spike,” she groaned.

“Still not the magic words,” he said, moving to work on her other ear. She shivered with need.

Her hands found the muscled planes of his back.

‘ So this was what Cosmo meant by a man being sculpted. Definitely not Angel, nor Parker, and not Riley,’ she thought. ‘Lean and powerful. Hidden power. Just like mine.’

“I….” she started but he went back to her neck and she forgot how to talk. His hands found the globe of one breast, teasing the peak beneath the frustrating fabric of her shirt. “Oh god,” she moaned, trying to find his mouth—why wasn’t he kissing her? Her mind was blank—she wanted to taste his tongue like she had that day on his bed. She wanted to feel that rush through her veins—that passionate heat that made her want to scream.

He stopped was he was doing and looked at her. She cried out in desperation.

“Say the words, Buffy,” he said quietly.

Buffy came back to reality as she opened her eyes to look at him. His eyes were blazing with desire. But there was something more than that there, a deep look of yearning and raw need.

She knew what she had to do.

Reluctantly she moved her hand away from his back, moving to cup his face in her hands. Slowly she dragged her thumb across his face, gazing all the while into those deep blue eyes that filled her with simultaneous peace and longing. Fingers playing along the nape of his neck, she brought him closer. Only mere inches from tasting that mouth again—seconds, sweet seconds of agonizing pleasure.

Pero la vida es mala y arisca (But life is not sweet and trustworthy)

Me quema, me mata y me enloquese (It burns me, it kills me, it maddens me)

Me ace nada—un paño solo y bacio (It turns me into nothing—a lonely, dirty, rag)

Tirado en calles, yo soy nada sin tu amor (Thrown on empty streets—I am nothing without your love)

Spike felt as if he was melting into her. The feel of her toned body beneath him, soft hands caressing him…

If only she would say it, the three little words he had waited one hundred years to hear.

“I,” she breathed, kissing his forehead. He closed her eyes and inhaled her scent. “Love,” she whispered, kissing his nose. He opened his eyes slowly, meeting her warm gaze. “You.” She pressed her lips against his mouth and kissed him intently.

The honesty in her words, the desire in her kiss, hit him hard. Could a vampire dust from pure happiness? He certainly felt as if me might.

Buffy was floating—she was sure she was dying. Never had she felt this way. Somehow, this kiss was different, unique. She was loved by a man and loved him back. They had a bright future ahead of them. It was unadulterated bliss.

His tongue claimed her mouth in a perfect dance, one she instinctively knew the rhythm for. Their hands explored each other, as whimpers and moans echoed in the room. So this is heaven, thought Spike as the reality of it came crashing through his clouded thoughts. He was with Buffy. She was alive, in his arms; she loved him, and they were only getting started.

She held him closer as emotions filled her. She loved him. She really did. When she had realized it, the emotion was vague and new. Things had been too uncertain; it had been time to fight, not to explore these feelings. But now, here with him, she felt she understood herself completely, for the first time in her life. ‘So this is love,’ she thought. ‘Happy love- love you can laugh with, and have fun with, and lose yourself inside. Love that holds no grudges or regrets, no barriers or curses. Total love.’ The thought made her giddy with joy, as if a heavy hand had lifted off her heart. She knew why she loved him. She loved the man he had been, the man he had become, and the man he wanted to be..

‘Jerry Maguire much?’ she thought as she began to giggle.

He pulled back as he felt her laugh, and gazed down on a beautiful sight. Once before he had seen her look like that, long ago. With her mother and Dawn, before Soldier boy, before the whole key business…

Thousands of days ago.

Pure and simple delight—mixed with peace and love. As Buffy should always be, as if sunshine radiated from her face.

“You’re beautiful when you smile,” he said, looking down at her. Her cheeks were bright pink from the heat of the moment, her lips swollen from the passionate kiss, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Aqui ente cuarto donde vivias (Here, in this room were you used to live)

Tu fragancia me enloquese y me enloca (Your scent drives me mad with need)

En suenos siento tus labion contra lost mio (Only in dreams do I feel your lips against mine)

Y ruego a Dios quedarme en suenos aqui contingo. (And I pray to God—to stay in my dreams here with you.)

“I love you,” she said again.

“I think we covered that, pet.” He leaned over and kissed her again. It was a brief kiss, since she pulled back with an astonished look in her face.

“No, I mean it.” She cupped his face and gave him a serious look. She had to make him understand. “I am really in love with.”

He would never grow tired of hearing those words. They were more than music to his ears—they were life in words.

“Complete and utter surrender. Just…bang! Hits you like a fire bolt and just…melts you dead and brings you alive at the same moment. Like the wind is missing from your lungs, and the entire existence of this universe depends on this love. And no matter how much I tell myself that this isn’t real I can’t convince myself because I’ve never felt more alive than this before.”

He stared at her completely enlightened face. She was luminous.

This was his girl—his slayer—his legend.

“Tell me, luv. What made you come to this interesting and completely poetic conclusion?” he asked smirking at her.

She gave him a mock glare. “I am having a moment here,” she pouted.

“Really? Cause I was ‘bout to have a moment too until was wonderfully interrupted by your very lovely speech,” he teased.

She slapped him across the chest. “Hey!” she chided. “It’s all up to me if you have your moment or not—I could just make you suffer and take a nice cold shower.”

He growled and assaulted her mouth. She pushed him off. “No!” she smiled sweetly. “I want to hear you now.”

Another growl. “Hear me?” he wiggled his narrow hips and ground his hardness against her hips. “How’s this for poetic?”

“I guess it’ll do,” Buffy said breathlessly as heat overcame the need to hear his words.

Lips joined again as the lovers found each other. Then they were interrupted by a scream coming from Vanessa’s room.

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"Were the hell have you been?" Lucy glared as Loret casually strode into the room and let out a big sigh.

"Never mix business with pleasure, they say. Therefore I am at work—no need to share the pleasure," she said smirking and lighting a fag.

Zeta looked over her carefully. There was something off about her—as if her aura had been…bleached.

"What type of pleasure?" Zeta inquired arching her eyebrow and studying her.

Loret sighed and blew out the smoke in the woman’s direction. "Don’t analyze me, sister. And don’t try your mojo on me—not gonna work."

"So confident, are you?" she challenged back.

"As a matter of fact," she jumped on the counter. "I am ."

"Just don’t leave for too long next time—we have some business to discuss," Lucy said as she drew charts of the attack plan.

"Like what?" Loret said, picking the dirt off her leather boots. "And please no discussion of the whole massacre."

Lucy put down her pencil and stared at her. "If you gave half a flying fuck for Spike as you claim you do you wouldn’t have left."

"And watch him sob in the little slayer’s arm? No thanks."

"Spare me the tragedy, Loret. We have serious trouble here. A god is nothing to be taken lightly. There will be no time to baby your wounded pride and your inability to move on. Spike is no longer interested—get over it. In case you missed the memo you’re a card player, chosen from a million people to fight the good fight, and there’s trouble rising in the east. So do what you’re paid three million dollars for and get your ass in gear." Lucy spat out—never taking her eyes from Loret.

Loret stared at her for one more second before smiling brightly. She jumped down from the counter and crushed her cigarette under her boot. "As always, Lucy, your wisdom and ability to put people down graces us. Now…what are we going to do to stop this hellbitch?"

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Both Spike and Buffy rushed to the room before Vanessa had a chance to take a breath from her initial screams.

Once Spike saw that she was safe he rushed to the window to see if there were any intruders. Buffy took the frightened girl into her arms.

While Spike searched every corner of the room Vanessa sobbed on Buffy’s chest. The slayer kept whispering comfort words to her as her eyes searched the room.

"She ok?" Spike asked concerned as he found nothing in the room.

"Vanessa, what happened, sweetheart?" Buffy tried talking to her as Spike sunk into the mattress.

"I was in the dark—and the door would not open. I was so scared." She whimpered and buried her head in Buffy’s chest.

The slayer understood and smoothed out her head rocking her back and fort. "It was a dream, baby—just a dream. Nothing is going to hurt you."

Spike sighed with relief and rubbed his neck. He would kill without a second thought anything that harmed his child in any way.

"I want my mommy," she whimpered.

Buffy looked at Spike with desperation in her eyes.

She was a mother but she was not a mommy. She had no experience whatsoever and her child didn’t even know her.

"C’mere, duckling," Spike said extending his arms to her. She gratefully flung herself into his waiting arms.

"Can I ask you something?" he whispered.

A little nod was his response.

"What do you say…that since your mom and da’ are in heaven you…well, you choose us as your new parents." Spike knew he was being too sudden. For the most part he still saw her as Sammy’s daughter—but he was one to quickly accept reality and he knew that she should be told the truth from an early age.

"You don’t have to if you don’t want to," Buffy quickly put in—glaring at Spike for his impatience. He was never patient. Buffy believed that she needed time. She had just lost her parents the night before.

Spike gaped at her, clearly confused, but all doubts were put to rest when Vanessa responded with a bright smile. "A new mommy and daddy?"

Spike began to speak but he was thrown off by small arms wrapping tightly around his neck. "I like this," she said planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Vanessa, are you sure?" Buffy asked concerned.

The little girl pouted. "Don’t you want to be my mommy?" she asked dejectedly.

Emotion rose to Buffy’s throat as she stared into the eyes that mirrored her so well.

"I would love to—if you let me."

Vanessa gave her a bright smile. "Does this mean we’re a family?"

Spike chuckled, overcome by joy, and kissed her on her little, dimpled cheek. "Always."

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The soldiers straightened as the man came walking down the hall. Dressed in the finest Armani suit, briefcase at hand and an air of importance around him.

Hollow steps in the still white corridor that led to the large oak door at the end. The twelve guards looked straight ahead—a picture of military perfection.

"Representative Berrios, welcome to Memphis Base," the lieutenant at the door said as he saluted the man.

"At ease, soldier." Javier responded as he saluted back to the man. "Has the lady arrived yet?"

The man nodded in confirmation. "She has, sir. The senators are waiting for you to fill them in with the information."

Javier nodded and followed the man through the door—entering the room with the large round where the internal council sat..

"Señor Berrios, how nice of you to join us," the head senator commented dryly as the younger man entered the room.

"Senator Kemp, how are you sir?"

The man stood up, his white hair sharp against the shadows of the room. Glaring down at the darker man he motioned for him to take the last seat left.

"Lieutenant, you may leave," the sitting general said to his officer.

"Yes sir," the man saluted again and left the room, leaving the councilmen to themselves.

All eyes turned to look at the representative. "Let us talk like the men we are, Javier. When we invited you to our prestigious council you were the first choice because of your roots. Having Lindsey McDonald as an ancestor put you clearly in the line of prospects. Your work is always flawless and impeccable, and you do not question our decisions. But our second reason is the most important. You do not fail. Until yesterday we had no qualms about your work, but…" he walked around the table to face the cowering man. "How shall I put this? You made a mistake."

"I did what you told me to do," he responded.

"And where is the child?" he leaned in—blue eyes blazing at him.

"You said nothing about the child," Javier said—back stiff with fear.

"Have we not worked these past five years to find her, have we not brought gods from nether dimensions, fueled a war with the Spanish Mafia, have we not gone through so much trouble to find one little girl that keeps slipping from our hands? For what? To let her walk away with the two people that would let nothing harm her in any way."

"They would have bested me and my men in ten minutes—you know that," Javier responded.

"The girl is key to our operation. Through her veins runs the most powerful blood in this hellish world. Never in the history of mankind or demon have two such powerful beings joined to create such perfection. We will need her—we shall raise her to serve us, not them and their insignificant dream." The senator walked to the window and gazed down at the city that lay at his fingertips. "In time, Mr. Berrios, you will see the power of politics. In time you will see the power of the forces of evil, but while that comes," he turned to face the room. "We have a special guest." He smiled.

The door to the side opened. "Your highness?"

A thin woman with red painted lips and straight black hair emerged, wearing a skimpy red dress that closely fit her tight figure.

The older men in the room eyed her appreciatively and she smiled back.

"Glorificus, welcome to our humble office," Senator Kent said smiling and kissing her hand.

She pulled her hand away from his wrinkly mouth and sighed in annoyance.

"Ok—lets get it straight, it’s Glory, ok? Simple, learn it." She casually strolled to the table and sat her self on the senator’s chair. She crossed her legs smiling at the men in the room and hitching her skirt up just a bit more. "Alright boys, here’s the plan. The slayer and her little pet vampire are planning—as we speak--my defeat. But what they don’t know is that their greatest enemy is underneath their very noses."

She smiled sweetly at them.

"What about the child?" the general asked.

"The pesky brat that escaped us last time is being retrieved as we speak."

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"So it’s all planned out, then?" Spike asked as he and Buffy studied the map before them.

"We’ll need a car. Where’s Loret—I am sure she doesn’t mind stealing one," Mario said rolling up the maps from the table.

"She went to the ladies," Zeta said.

"Don’t they have a slutties?" Buffy muttered and Spike gave her an sharp look.

"How’s Vanessa doing?" Lucy asked concerned.

Spike sighed and leaned back on his chair. "She's mostly asleep, thanks to that tea you gave ‘er," he motioned to Zeta.

The woman nodded. "She’ll be out for a while. We'll have time to go through the initial attack."

Buffy gave her a look of appreciation and went to get her weapons together.

"When you’re about to get to the gate, you have to say ‘See you in hell, motherfuckers.’ Then pull the plug," Mario told her handing her a .45mm.

"What?" Buffy asked him.

"But say it with a straight face. They wont believe you if you don’t." He was completely oblivious to her look.

"I am sorry—I left my poker face at home," she said sarcastically.

"What’s poker?"

They were interrupted as both Zeta and Troll were suddenly slammed against the walls and slumped to the floor.

"Wad’a ‘ell?" Dalton asked as he ran to help Zeta up.

"Oh, god!" she said as feelings and vibrations started to fill her. Her eyes found Spike’s worried one. "Vanessa! Loret’s got her."

Buffy walked to her—fear settling at the pit of her stomach.

"What?" Spike asked confused.

"It’s like a veil has been lifted—she’s working with Glory!" she cried, trying to hurry them.

No more words needed to be spoken. All of them rushed upstairs—Spike and Buffy led the way as they made record time to the girl’s room.

As the door was kicked open—it revealed an open window and an empty bed.