TITLE: 5 Days More

1/46
AUTHOR: BmblBee
RATING: Adult entertainment due to m/m sexual activity
and language.
PARING: S/X
DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction. Conceived in the warped
hive of the BmblBee. She owns none of the characters
or products named and makes no money from their use.
WARNINGS: Character death. Boys playing with boys.
Vampire/human contact.

SUMMARY: Xander Harris is dead. Drained by a vampire in the
Longview Cemetery. When his body is discovered
his friends realize that no one has seen or heard from him
in the last five days. Willow comes up with a spell to send
someone back in time to find out how he ended up there
and possibly save his life. Spike is reluctantly recruited.
It can be assumed that all chapters are worksafe unless otherwise
noted.




Thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banner and patient preread.

Midnight.
The witching hour. The time of night that anyone who is familiar
with the other earthly activities of a graveyard, should be
expecting the unexpected.

Still, when the heart wrenching scream pierced the silence of the
dark, it turned Buffy's blood to ice. Not because it was so out of
the ordinary for creatures, even human ones, to wail in cemeteries,
but because it was a voice she knew as well as her own.
It was Willow.

Willow, who in all the years they had spent together, had never made
that particular sound before. Buffy had heard her squeak, squeal,
and even at times whoop in disgust or distress, at the attacks or
gooey explosions caused by the various demons they had battled.
But this was different.

This was a heartbreaking scream of utter horror and defeat. This was
the type of scream that could never be laughed off or dismissed no
matter how much time passed.

Buffy tossed aside the miniature gra'fl demon she was teasing and
took off running. When the second scream came, she leaped
headstones and instinctively, despite the total lack of the quarter moon's
illumination, sidestepped copper pot of wilted and dying flowers,
her feet barely touching the mounds of undisturbed earth.

"WILLOW!"

No voice answered her. No reassuring chuckle with the explanation
of a stick that resembled a snake or even a newly risen vampire that
needed a stake for a midnight snack or a holy water wash up.

Honing her heightened senses in on the familiar sound of her best
friends breathing and heartbeat, Buffy rounded the cluster of the
Well's family markers, past the pump house where mourners could
get water for their offerings, and rushed straight for the crypts.

Her agnostic prayers were that of the profoundly religious.
'Please God. Please not Willow. Please let me get there in time.'

Able to see somewhat better in the dark than any average nonslayer,
Buffy spotted her shape off in the distance and was at lease somewhat
relieved to see that she was still standing. Whatever had caused
the terror in her voice hadn't yet taken her down.

Without stopping or scanning the perimeter for danger, Buffy skid to a
stop beside the sobbing distraught woman.

"Jesus, Willow, what is it? What's wrong? What happened?"
By now Buffy had clamped her hands on the redheads shoulders
forcing her to face the confusion of the slayer and shook her
hoping an answer would tumble out.

Finally, as recognition seeped back into the emerald green eyes,
Willow gasp, still unable to speak, and pointed to the ground by
the side of the crypt.

An ominous premonition rushed through her and suddenly, Buffy
didn't want to look. She didn't want to see what she had been so
anxious to understand.
She closed her eyes and stood her ground, neither releasing her friend
or asking for any further explanation.

"Buffy."
The sad whispered voice forced her back to reality, her eyes popped
open as though she had forgotten where she was, and she turned
her head to look down.

The sight that filled Buffy's eyes and brain was the one she had dreaded
since the day she arrived in Sunnydale. It was the one she had bargained
and bet against with a God she no longer believed in.
It was the one thing she knew without a doubt was her fault.

"Xander. Oh my God, Xander."

Dropping to her knees beside the still, motionless, lifeless body, Buffy
matched Willow's screams with one of her own.

There was no need for attempted CPR. It was too late for 911.
The deep, red, swollen holes in the side of his neck told the whole story.
It answered every question either woman could bring themselves to ask.

Buffy scooped the limp lifeless body up in her arms and rocked back and
forth with him, sobbing and wailing in a way so distraught and terrifying
that several newly risen fledges ran and hid.

Lowering herself to the ground beside them, Willow wrapped her arms
around both her best friends and joined in the movement of the dance
of mourning.

The women's tears flowed freely, running down and splashing onto
the cheeks of a friend who could never again cry his own. Their hands
brushed the hair from his forehead and their lips kissed his.
In life he had fantasized of this.
Held and loved by both his girls. Now, limp, he could no longer
enjoy it. Death had robbed him of all promise, all future and joy.
No, not death.
A vampire.

Willow was the first to finally speak, still shaking, she did what she had
always done, she looked to Buffy, the slayer, to fix this.

"Buffy, what can we do? How do we bring him back? A spell?
A demon? We have to hurry."

Buffy just shook her head and continued to rock.
"No, it's too late. We don't know what all the vampire responsible
for this did."

The horror of realization rushed through Willow's body causing her
stomach to roll and threaten to empty at the thought of what they may
have to do to their friend.

"Do you think he's been turned. Oh, God, Buffy was he given the
vampire's blood?"

"I don't know, but we need to think. We have to pull ourselves together
and think. If he was turned, and I'm NOT saying he was, but IF he was
turned we have till morning before he would rise. He deserves better
than a stake through the heart. He deserves a funeral. Full honors.
He deserves a hero's respect."

Willow tried to see through the confusing cloud of fear and sorrow.
If this was anyone else, she would call Xander. Xander would know
what to do.

"So what are you saying? What do we do?"

Buffy wiped her nose on the sleeve of her pink cashmere sweater and
immediately slid her arms under her companions lifeless body, lifting
him easily and clutching him to her chest.
Her legs never shook under the weight.

"We take him home. Down to the basement where it's dark and
we wait. Within six hours we will know what happened. If he
remains still then we give him the funeral of a lifetime. Friends,
flowers. Love and respect. Until then we stay by his side."

"And if he does rise?"

Buffy pulled the body closer and kissed his face gently.
"Then one of us does the deed and we have a closed casket.
In the mean time we call Giles and tell him what happened."

Buffy turned and started the long, unhappy walk home.
Willow trailed sadly behind her friends.

"Six hours is a long time to wait. What do we do while we wait?"

Buffy never looked back. She continued her death march
and felt her resolve, her hate, burn in the pit of her stomach.

"We stay and hold his hand. He deserves more than to be alone
at the end of his life. After that, I kill every vampire I can find. Whoever did this will pay with his own miserable unlife."