RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. They belong to Joss Whedon and co.
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He stared at the sky, wondering if she could see the same stars that he did. Praying that she was looking at the moon at this very moment. Sighing, he shook his head and turned his eyes away. It was stupid to think that. Wherever she was, it was probably the middle of the day. The stars only reminded him of her, the way she thrived in the moonlight. She was made to live in the dark. Every movement she had, the way she slowly reached for him in the night, it was all illuminated by the moonlight, making him yearn for her touch.
Time went by so slowly at night, he counted the minutes and seconds until the sun would rise over the horizon and the moon would creep closer to her side of the world. He envied that the moon could be so close to her, and he hated that they could no longer share the nights. When they had spent their time together, when they had been able to lie side by side as the sun rose, he had never once thought they'd be separated. He'd always believed she was his for all time.
Biting his lip, he wondered if she still talked to the moon and the stars, asking them what their names were and if they'd seen the latest fight. She probably did, she had never been one to change. As he thought this, he could almost hear her voice purring to him in the dark, her cold fingers sliding through his hair.
He sat up abruptly and whirled around, the sensation of fingers was too real and the voice was too close. But the cemetery was totally empty, only the leaves rustling slightly as a wind blew through the tombstones. It was crazy of him to think that she would be so close, it was only his mind running away with him, telling him the things he wanted to hear and creating the things he wanted to feel.
Sitting alone in the grass, he lowered his head to his chin and stared down. He was barefoot, wearing only his black jeans, but he wasn't cold. Although the temperatures dipped low at night, he wasn't cold at all. He had never been cold.
The slayer would be done her nightly patrolling, tucked safely away in her bed with her sister and mother to watch over. He was glad she wouldn't be walking by any time soon, he'd hate to see her now, after his little experience with his old girl. Stupid bint, she only thought of herself and she used him as a punching bag whenever she felt that hers wasn't giving her a good enough workout. He growled deep in his throat at the thought of her throwing him around and there was nothing he could do about it.
She would have loved to see him staring into the dark, his eyes darting like those of a scared rabbit. She would have laughed, watching him search for his girl, pretending she really was talking to him. And he would have to sit there and listen to her taunting him, because of the bloody chip in his head, he couldn't do a damn thing.
One day, though, it would change. The roles would be reversed and it would be the slayer wishing she could fight back against the thorn in her side. Until then, he'd pretend that everything was normal and that he didn't want to rip her beating heart out at the slightest movement.
Getting to his feet, he began to walk toward the crypt.
"Don't move little one." The voice purred.
He paused, stopped breathing, wanting to turn to see her, but not able to. His hand slid down the rock wall of the crypt and he turned slowly, nervous shivers slithering up his spine. If he was still imagining things, he'd go crazy. He'd go absolutely mad if she wasn't standing there.
But she was.
In the beautiful midnight, she stood alone between the tombstones, her black and red dress draped on her perfectly. Dark hair blew gently in the soft wind, her green eyes reflecting the white moon. She waited for him, stood perfectly still and waited for him to move.
He took a step closer, paused, then took another. It was impossible for him to believe that she was real, he had convinced himself so long ago that she'd never be back. He knew she would never want him again. But here she was, waiting for him.
"You're not real." He said slowly.
She smiled. "I've always been real. They all knew I was coming darling," she pointed to the sky, "didn't you feel their fear?"
She was perfection in his eyes, a goddess that no one would ever be able to lay eyes on, a face so lovely one would never suspect that she would kill them. At least, not until it was too late.
She crept forward, her arms reaching for him and begging him to take her back. Long arms flowed into thin hands that snaked up his chest and around his neck. Her eyes were wide and innocent, searching for the words she wanted him to say.
"I can't believe you're here." He said finally. "For so long I've waited and now . . ."
"Shhh, my love, don't speak." She placed a finger on his lips. "I know what you've waited for. I could hear your naughty thoughts as I came to you." A dangerous giggle escaped her. "I want to help."
He couldn't help it. He wanted to taste her again, wanted to feel her lips beneath his. Without warning, he leaned down and kissed her. She responded immediately, her hands locking on his neck and head and holding him to her. He had waited for so long for this moment, but he had waited patiently and his strength had paid off.
She had come to him.
He hadn't realized that he had let the demon take his face and when they parted, he saw her golden eyes flash, then touched his forehead.
"There's my baby." She murmured, gently touching his eyebrow. "I've waited so long for this day. And we can make things better here in Sunnydale, you and I can fix everything that's wrong."
He opened his mouth to tell her that he couldn't when he saw the tears cutting tracks down her face.
"Why are you crying pet?" He asked, gently wiping them away.
"Because this is how it's supposed to be." She replied. "I'm getting closer to having our family back again."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
She ignored his question and smiled into the sky. "Only one more part. I have two parts back and I only need one more, then we'll be whole again." She stared over his shoulder and smiled. "Look, grandmummy has come to join us."
As he grasped her shoulders, he felt the hot white pain flood through him and he gasped for air, stumbling into her arms. She stared at him in shock and stepped backward as he exploded into dust and floated gently to the ground. She looked up to see the blonde vampire smiling at her.
"Look at the horrible mess you've made." She scolded.
The blonde woman smiled slightly. "You knew it had to be done. He wasn't a vampire anymore. He was pathetic."
"But he was part of the family."
She shook her head. "No honey, he was never part of our family. Let's go, we have some work to finish in Los Angeles."
"He'll never come back to us." The dark haired vampire said slowly. "Not now that you've killed him." She glanced at the ash. "He could have helped us."
The blonde vampire rolled her eyes. "I've got all the help I can handle in you honey. Let's get back."
As they walked away, the slayer stepped out of the shadows and stared after them. She made no move to go after them or hurt them, she just watched. And when they were gone, she turned her eyes down to the pile of ash they had left behind and sadly shook her head. The only other time she'd seen a man look at a woman with so much love was when Angel had looked at her. She had betrayed him by shoving a sword through his stomach.
She lightly kicked the ash, sending it into the air. She felt sorry for him in a way, even in the end he hadn't realized what had happened. He hadn't understood that he'd been betrayed by the woman he loved. The slayer sighed and turned away. She hated that she felt anything for the vampire, but she knew.
She knew what it was like.
End
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