Timeless

Disclaimer:

Each of these characters belongs to Joss Whedon and no money is made with this.

Author's note:

I was tired of all the fics that show Buffy dying and Spike at her deathbed, so I thought: Why not have them still together, but she has to face the fact that she is growing old, looking old, and he isn't. I mean, if they ever came together after both series had ended, and stayed together, that is one thing they would have to face.

Enjoy.

Buffy opened her eyes and found herself staring back at her.

The mirrors on the ceiling above their bed had been Spike's idea. Said he found it funny to look at them and see Buffy having sex all alone, since he didn't have a reflection. She had found it kinda creepy at first and imagined that it must have looked like that for Xander when he had found Spike in his crypt that time she was invisible. But she had gotten used to it; or so she thought. This morning she just stared at her image and something crumbled inside her.

She tore her gaze away and turned to the man lying at her side.

She took in his fine, blonde hair, tousled from sleeping, his young features, the high cheekbones and the peaceful expression on his face. He looked so alive, even though she couldn't hear any breath, nor did his chest rise and fall.

She reached out and stroked his cheek gently. At that blue eyes opened and gazed at her. A smile started on his face, but it froze when he saw her wistful expression.

"What is it, love?"

„Look at you," she said quietly. "Still looking as gorgeous as the first time I saw you." She gave a weary sigh. "All young and handsome and sexy." She drew her hand away and closed her eyes for a second as tears slipped from beneath her eyelids. "And now look at me, all wrinkly and old."

Spike curled her hair around his fingers. "You're just Whiteylocks now instead of Goldilocks, doesn't make you any less pretty." That made her smile and she looked at him. "You are still the most beautiful woman in the world to me." He lightly traced her eyes and mouth with his fingers. "With all your wrinkles."

His voice still sometimes managed to make her shiver, like at this moment, and more tears rolled down her face. "You'll never stop being a romantic, even after all these years, will you?"

He smiled that cocky smile of his. "But that's what you love about me, isn't it, love?"

"Not just that."

"What else do you love about me then?" He raised his left eyebrow, giving her a teasing look, but she ignored the question.

"Sometimes I wonder why you still want me like this. Not that I complain," she added, "which woman wouldn't want a man who never ages." And she let her eyes roam over his perfectly muscled body.

"I don't get your point, pet." Spike replied when he caught her look.

"I'm old, Spike."

"So?"

"You could have so many young girls."

"I never wanted anyone else, you know that. Nobody else matters to me." His voice had taken on the husky tone she loved so much. "It doesn't matter to me if you look older, Buffy, you're still a hell of a woman."

Her slayer genes had made her look younger than the average woman her age, she knew that. She was 85 now and looked like 60, but she still looked old; older than him. And sometimes this knowledge got to her. "You're all I could have ever wished for," she said. "You love me more than anyone ever did." Even Angel, she added in her thoughts.

She had known that she could never have children with Spike, could never lead a normal life with him by her side. But in the end, when she hadn't been the only slayer anymore and had been able to lead the normal life she had always wanted, she had found that she didn't care anymore. All that mattered was what could make her happy and Spike did just that.

What did it matter that she couldn't walk with him in the sun, when she could walk with him under the moon shining down on them? Of course she missed not being able to do it, but it was not what was important.

He was important.

"And I love you." That earned a smile from Spike. "Will you stick by me? Till I die?" Her green eyes focused on his face for the answer, but she knew it already.

"Until you die." He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. His soft lips caressed her own with a gentleness that made her weak in his arms all over again. "Always," he whispered and she smiled in response, the dried tears on her cheek forgotten.

Author's Note:

Please tell me how you liked it, reviews are much appreciated.