Author: Holly (holly.hangingavarice@gmail.com)
Rating: NC-17 (For language and sexual situations)
Timeline: Post Chosen.
Summary: A vampire given a new life, a Slayer given a second chance, and the passionate fury in which they come together.

Disclaimer: The characters herein are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. They are being used for entertainment purposes out of respect and admiration, and not for the sake of profit. No copyright infringement is intended.

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It was quite a sensation, feeling the world slow to a standstill. Feeling the weight beneath her feet stop moving. She had never known the earth’s orbit was something people could feel, and yet when it no longer churned beneath her, she definitely felt that she and the rest of civilization had come to an irreparable breech in time and space.

She didn’t know, however, if that was due to physics or the fact that Spike was standing just a few feet away from her.

The shadow of their recent trade swarmed around her. She was outside, her hair was mussed, her heart was racing, and Spike was just a few feet from her.

“What’s the matter?” she had spat. “Dru dump you again?”

A look of hurt had flashed across his face. “Maybe I dumped her,” he had growled.

And then it had happened. Something had seized her, and she saw him.

Spike.

The amazing thing was, he saw her, too.

And the next minute, she had lunged into his arms, a sob tearing through her throat. Her body wracking in tremors that threatened to consume her whole, and the cruel twist of fate that had brought this on trembled in turn with the potency of her agony.

This wasn’t fair. She had spent too many nights dreaming of him. Wrapped her arms around too many pillows and sobbed out her despair. Had endured too many talks with Willow and assurances from Xander that she would get over it, but she hadn’t. She couldn’t. Her longing had finally manifested into an all-out dementia, and now he was around her. His arms were around her, his mouth pressing eager, ardent kisses into her skin and thrusting her against the side of the building.

“Oh God, Buffy.”

She quivered into him, cupping his face and commanding his lips with hers. Spike moaned and melted into her, plunging his tongue into her mouth and stealing her away in the mysticism of his sinful kisses. Her legs wound around his waist and she began pulling instinctively on his clothes. There was too much between them. Too much separating her skin from his.

She wanted to make the most of this, if this was all she was to have.

Too many dreams. Too many wasted nights.

“Bloody dream come true,” he murmured into her, sending shivers across her flesh. His hands were hiking up her skirt as his mouth made wicked play against her throat. “My gorgeous Slayer.”

An angry throat cleared behind them, but neither bothered to turn around.

The world didn’t exist if not for this feeling.

“Ummm, hello!” a vaguely familiar voice snapped. “I’m standing right here!”

Buffy finally managed to wheedle a hand between them and popped open the clasp of his jeans, jerking his fly down. His erection sprang into her waiting grasp, and a long moan rumbled through his body.

“Fuck.”

She raised her eyes to his, another shudder wracking her body as she began to pump his flesh rhythmically. In that steady way that she knew he loved. In the way she knew drove him crazy. His eyes went wild with need, and he thrust against her hand ferociously, snarling his approval and dipping his head to nibble again at her skin.

A lifetime ago against a very different wall. A lifetime ago, she had done this.

A lifetime ago, she could not have imagined whispering how much she loved him into his ear, or feeling relief spread through her at the feel of his touch. Relief that did not come with the added burden of guilt or shame. There was nothing but simple bliss at being held by him. For however long, before it ended and she awoke in her cold, lonely bedroom again. Before she awoke in a world where Spike no longer existed.

There were tears scalding down his cheeks. She had never dreamt of those before.

“Buffy…” His hand had wheedled inside her panties, skilled fingers gliding over her moist flesh and running lovingly through her thin curls. “So wet.”

“Uhhh…”

“Ready for me, baby? Ready? I don’ think I can bloody stand it.”

“Spike!”

“I need you.” His other hand wedged between them and wrapped around her wrist, coaxing her hand away from his cock. Then she felt him between her legs, bunching her panties to the side. The head of his need brushing her intimately, gliding over her folds until he was positioned at her opening. “I need to be inside you. Need you squeezin’ me into bloody oblivion. God, I love you so much.”

“Uhhhh!” She nodded frantically, unable to think up a coherent sentence, much less scream her similar need. Reality was closing in on her. Soon it would all be over, and she would be left with the bittersweet memory of a half experienced dream.

It just felt so real.

“Buffy—”

“I…”

“Please.”

He had never asked her permission before. Never in their sordid affair had he once needed her word before plunging himself inside her. She remembered vaguely that he would growl that he needed her, explore her pussy with his fingers to make sure she was ready, but the words of consent never escaped her lips. They’d never needed to.

Except that night. That one night. The night that had changed everything.

And then another. Another night—the one she had lived on for the past few months. The one that haunted her in her sleep, revisited her in dreams, and played out what should have been her defining revelation in the mockery that she had turned it into. That night before the last battle that she had spent in his arms. He had asked her permission then, and she had given it to him.

And they had made love for the first time.

“Please, Buffy…” His other hand slid under her top and cupped her breast, teasing her nipple through her bra. “I need you.”

Words returned to her then. Just when she thought fate was being intentionally cruel.

“Yes!” She nodded erratically. “Please. Need you.”

A look of unbridled awe flashed across his face. She knew that look well. So well. Her heart constricted painfully, her pulse racing uncontrollably. Her fingers were digging into his leather-clad forearms, as though holding him to her would keep the outside world from dragging her away. From placing her back in her empty bed with nothing left but the pitiless silence of her room.

If there was a place she wanted to be for the rest of eternity, it was here.

Spike shuddered under her touch and gently brushed his lips against hers.

Then his erection slipped inside her, and her body sang in pleasure.

“Oh God.” Spike tossed his head back in astonishment. “So bleeding warm.”

Buffy released a small whimper and arched against him. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, brow resting against his. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips kissed away her tears, his hips rocking gently against hers. The boundaries of reality and nirvana collided in a wave of ecstasy, and she lost all grasp of truth. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Spike shuddered against her, moving within her in soft, agonizing strokes. Sliding sensually against her, his cock striking her at angles only he could touch. He pressed a kiss against her throat. “Missed you,” he agreed hoarsely. “Every moment.”

Her chest tightened and she swept her lips against his cheek, reveling in the feel of him. His body was moving against hers, his cock sliding in and out of her slick passage, eliciting feelings she had thought were dead. Feelings that no dream could mimic. He cupped her ass to haul her into his thrusts, his mouth dropping to her throat, coating her skin with sweet, sensuous kisses.

It was so real. She felt everything, and it was so real.

“You’re jus’ like I remember,” Spike murmured against her lips, fingers slipping under the cup of her bra to pebble her nipple. “So warm. So perfect.” His thrusts intensified, slow and momentous still, but fused with want that had both their bodies burning. A burning need to beat out time. To reach their pinnacle together before they were whisked away.

Never before in her dreams had Spike been equally frantic. In her dreams, Spike was tempered and seductive, always chiding her for her impatience. Coaxing her to a leisure lovemaking that never reached fruition. She always awoke before she could feel that bliss with him. Before she could wrap her arms around him when his body trembled around hers as she exploded, taking him with her. Feeling the warm rush of completion as he lost himself inside her, murmuring his love for her in her hair.

That didn’t exist in dreams. Not in hers.

Spike was moving madly against her now. Whimpers and moans clawed at his throat, and his kisses carried the taste of his tears.

She knew that taste so well.

“Spike…”

His mouth was busy at her throat, his thrusts rocking her against the brick wall nearly to the point of pain. Her back slammed recklessly against the building behind her, her arms linked desperately around his neck. He was making delicious play with her breast, his other hand slipping between them, prying fingers finding her clit and stroking her into her next life.

Oh God.

Oh God.

This was real.

Buffy’s eyes went wide, only half-registering the encouraging mewls that tore through her body. He raised his mouth from her skin and pressed his brow against hers once more, capturing her eyes as his hips thrust frantically against her. Her muscles constricted around him, squeezing him tightly just to reaffirm his veracity. Another long whimper touched the air, painted in his voice. And she knew then. He was driving into her with impassioned force that couldn’t be dreamt. Spike was moving inside her, fondling her to oblivion, his azure gaze piercing her to her core. And it was all real.

“Oh my God.”

He nodded desperately against her. “Buffy…”

Tears spilled down her face, and she attacked his mouth with hers. Drawing him into a fiery kiss that spoke for everything she could not. The emotion burning her system. The floodgates he had opened that she couldn’t handle. Her body was on fire but her mind was crashing. The reality she had lived in no longer existed. Spike was with her. His arms were around her, his lips against hers until he pulled away to sob into the crook of her neck. He knew it too, then. There at a moment shared. This was really happening. He was really with her. This moment existed, and they were really making love.

It was all real.

“Oh God.”

His fingers massaged her clit speedily, his thrusts broaching the lines of need and collapsing into a realm they were still creating.

“Come for me, Buffy,” he gasped, teeth scraping tenderly at the column of her throat. “Need to feel you come. Need to taste you. Need to lick you out.”

“Oh God!”

“I love you. I love you so much.”

She nodded furiously. “Love you.”

His eyes widened and stormed with passion. “Really?”

And that was it. Her heart broke. Her face crumbled in devastation, and she collapsed against his shoulder, tightening her grasp around him.

Her fault. She had waited too long to tell him. Had not recognized each time that the opportunity arose, each time she was given to explain. To tell him everything. To spill her love for him without worrying about everything that turned out to be so superficial. At the eleventh hour, holding his hand in a cave as the world fell around him as his skin began to burn with the effects of his martyrdom, of course he would not believe her.

She had hoped that his response was out of a need to get her out of the cave. She had told herself his words were a blessing for her to go on with her life. She had hoped anything but the truth of his rebuttal’s simplicity. His belief that her love was some consolation prize for saving the world. Words easily said and just as easily forgotten. As though their relationship could be measured so reasonably.

“Oh baby,” he murmured against her. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He was stroking her clit rapidly, and her body was consumed. “Don’t cry.”

“I love you,” she sputtered desperately against him. “Please believe me.”

“I believe you.”

Then his fangs elongated and sliced into her throat, and she exploded around him. A hoarse cry tearing through her body, her muscles clamping around his cock as she rode out the waves of the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. His incisors were embedded in her body, her blood spilling into his mouth, his thrusting hips demanding as much from her as she could give.

“Mine,” he sighed against her as his fangs receded, his tongue lapping delicately at the mark he had given her. “You love me. You’re mine. Never lettin’ you go again, kitten. Never.”

A claim. He was placing a claim on her. A vampire claim—an unbreakable bond that would seal them together forever. She knew about claims only from what she had read following his death. The books she had poured herself over in an attempt to find solace in his sacrifice. Not to cheapen what he had given her, but to understand him.

She had wanted him back for so long. Careless days that turned into weeks, and finally months. And now he was against her, rumbling in release as his orgasm washed over her, and he slumped against her with a roar of completion.

“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly. “Yours.”

“Never lettin’ you go again.”

“Never.”

“God, Buffy…” He raised his eyes to hers, reeling his demon inward. “This is real, innit?”

She nodded tentatively, daring fate to interfere again. To throw her haven in her face and draw her back to the world she had left behind.

Spike was heaving needless pants, his wide, inquisitive eyes searching hers. “Buffy?”

“Oh God.”

It crashed over her again. Her legs were curled around his waist, his body was connected with hers, and his arms were around her. She breathed him in. Felt him rumble against her. Tasted the essence of him that was thoroughly Spike. The tobacco and whisky, the leather and blood. Everything that was thoroughly Spike. He was real. His skin was really beneath hers. His lips were really peppering sweet, heartfelt kisses across her face. The tears that had dried against his cheeks were real.

“You died,” she sobbed, her head collapsing against his shoulder. “You left me.”

“Shhh…’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here, now.”

“Really?” Her arms tightened around him. “You’re real. You’re not leaving again.”

“’m real.”

“You didn’t believe me.”

“Din’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t say things like that out of obligation.”

Spike trembled around her and brushed a kiss across the mark in her throat. “Of course you don’, sweetling. You remember what I said about smokescreens? I jus’…I don’ know why I said it.”

“You believe me now?”

“Yeh.” A long tremble coursed through his body, and tears filled his eyes all over again. “I believe you.”

Then his fingers were under her chin, tilting her into his kiss. His kiss that tasted her with tender veneration, his tongue imploring her mouth, whispering poetry into her body. He could move continents with the sinful strokes of his lips. Could make mountains bow before him with the power of his kisses. And she was no different. The lightest hint of his mouth against hers, and she lost coherency for the sweeter side of self-indulgence.

Her body quivered beneath his fingers, her walls clenching around his cock in a silent reminder of their position. He moaned into her and withdrew tenderly before sinking into her warm depths again.

“I love you,” she said again.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Love you, too. So much. An’ you’re mine now.”

“Yes.”

A slow, familiar smirk drew across his mouth as he pumped into her body steadily. “Such a sweet li’l puss.”

Her skin was on fire. “Ohhh…”

“Jus’ one question, pet.” His head reeled back, eyes exploring hers. “Have any idea where we are?”

Buffy studied him for a long minute. “No.”

“Well…” Spike hazarded a glance around them, his nostrils flaring. Other subtle hints were coming into play. Loud, albeit muffled music blared from somewhere close. She distinctly remembered seeing Harmony before losing herself in her lover’s embrace. She was wearing a shirt she hadn’t seen in over three years, and while Spike’s eyes were as aged as she last remembered, there was something youthful about him that she almost didn’t recognize. As though the time of abuse had been stripped away, and even as a vampire, he had been given back his lost years. “We might have a bit of a problem.”

“Problem?”

There couldn’t be a problem. She just had him back. She wouldn’t let anything take him away again.

“Yeh.” His eyes found her again. “Thing is…I think we’re back in Kansas.”

 Bright Are The Stars That Shine

She felt she had stepped through a painting. Retracted and lost herself in a forgotten memory, and was rewriting the end to solve the emptiness that had been accumulating over the past few months, threatening to consume her entirely. Spike was on his knees before her, his thumbs hooked under her panties and dragging the damp fabric down her legs.

“You don’ mind goin’ commando, do you?” he asked her huskily, nuzzling her through her skirt.

“Haven’t before,” she replied.

“’S jus’ that your panties are all…sodden.” Spike released a deep breath and ducked his head under her skirt again, his tongue trailing a long, wet path up her slit. “God, you taste so good.”

A long shudder ran through her body. “Sp-Spike…”

“Mmm.” He pulled away with a moan of complaint and rose to his feet. “Yeh.”

“Oh God.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Got carried away.” He brushed a tender kiss across her lips. “You jus’ smell so bloody divine.”

“You’re a tease.”

“Yeh, well…’f I start again, I won’t be able to stop.”

She collapsed against him, grumbling her protest when he straightened her skirt. “See, I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.”

“Me, either, pet,” he replied with a smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Jus’ don’t fancy takin’ you against a wall…again. If I’d known it was real before…well no, I jus’ needed you.”

“In past tense?”

He shot her a skeptical look. “Yeh. I’m all cured.”

Buffy licked her lips and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, wrapping her arms around her middle to hide how badly she was trembling. “I’m just…this is…I have no idea how to even begin to react to what’s happened here. The last time I saw you…”

Spike’s features softened and he stepped forward, taking her into his embrace once more. “I know, pet,” he murmured. “You think it was easy for me? You took my hand an’ your eyes…I saw you…I din’t wanna think about it. What I saw. What I was leavin’ behind.” A sigh shuddered through him. “Maybe that’s why I…you told me, an’ it was wonderful, but I din’t wanna believe it.”

“Because…”

“If I believed it, I don’ know if I would’ve been strong enough to do what I did. Soul an’ all.”

She sighed again and cast her eyes to the ground. “Even if you didn’t…believe me, that is…I wouldn’t have blamed you. I waited so long. I wanted to tell you that night in the house, when you came after me.”

A small smile crossed his face.

“I wanted to tell you then. And then after I got the axe thing and you called me shirty. I was trying to tell you, especially after you asked if I was there with you and I said I was.” She shook her head. “I didn’t, though.”

Spike was quiet for a long minute. “Why not?”

“Because I thought it’d jinx everything.”

“Jinx…?”

“I thought if I told you I loved you, the Powers would take you away from me. Like everyone else…only more so.” A pause. “That’s also…why I kissed Angel.”

His eyes darkened. “I’d nearly forgotten about that.”

“Oh.” A shrill note caught her voice. “Damn.”

“Nearly. You have any idea what seein’ that felt like?”

“Yes.” Buffy met his incredulous eyes and shuddered again. “I felt it, too. I loved you, and I kissed him to…I dunno. My life has just been completely screwed over since I…well, you know. But I can’t keep using that as an excuse. Throughout that year that we were…you kept me from completely falling apart, and I treated you so badly. Then the thing happened, and you left, and I was terrified you were gone for good.”

Spike heaved out a breath and cast a hand through his hair. “After that, I don’ bloody deserve—”

“No. Stop. I told this guy…this vampire guy before I staked him, right as things were getting crazy, that I behaved like a monster with you. And I did. I was terrible. What happened…what you did…I’m not saying it was my fault—”

His eyes widened. “You bloody well better not be!” he growled. “Buffy, I nearly—”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s bollocks. That’s absolute rubbish. Of course it was my fault. I was the one who was there, right? There’s no one else. I pushed you to the sodding ground an’ I…” A long tremor ran through his body, and he wiped errantly at his eyes before reactionary tears could spill down his cheeks. “You can’t be one of those girls who lets men hurt her an’ then defends them by sayin’ it’s all right, ‘cause I love you.”

“I’m not.”

“Funny.”

“No, it’s not. I treated you terribly. What you did to me was not nearly as bad as what I did to you. It just gets messed up in the logic that men hurting women is worse than women hurting men. I hurt you for months, and you were my crutch. And whatever you did was only because that’s what I drove you to.”

He was still shaking his head, but the fire had abandoned his eyes. “No.”

“Spike—”

“I’m not gonna let you believe that—”

Her eyes flashed. “Can you honestly tell me that you would’ve tried to do that under different circumstances? That if we had never slept together, if I had never hurt you, if everything that happened that year had gone differently, you would’ve tried to rape me?”

The word was there. That terrible word. Spike shuddered violently and choked a sob, his eyes falling to the grass.

“Don’t do that,” Buffy said softly, stepping forward, taking him into her arms. “I’m sorry. I never meant to…there were so many things I thought I’d have forever to tell you. That I thought I could work up to. That we were on the way to…rediscovering, I guess. No, rebuilding. Rebuilding’s a better word.”

He laughed slightly against her, forced and harsh. “It was both,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her shoulder. “We were doin’ both.”

“Yeah.”

“Buffy—”

“My point is, despite the vampire thing…despite everything…I’d convinced myself that your lack of a pulse also meant lack of…you loved me. I didn’t want love, so I hurt you. And I didn’t care. It was killing me that I hurt you, that you could love and I couldn’t, and I was terrible to you.” She pulled back slightly and cupped his face. “What happened in the bathroom was just as much my fault as it was yours.”

“I still say you’re daft. Women are never—”

“Spike, regardless of all else, you’re not the type of guy to hurt the woman you love to be malicious.”

Another piercing laugh tore through his throat. “You obviously haven’t talked to Dru recently.”

“To be malicious,” she said again. “I was there, too. The look in your eyes after you…you didn’t see that. And I sat on the floor for a while after you left, hating you but also hating myself for forcing you to that.”

“Buffy, please.”

“And you got a soul. You got a soul for me.” She shook her head once more. “There are so many things I never told you.”

He exhaled slowly. “What things?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “And I forgive you.”

His face began to crumble at that.

“And thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“For being there for me…that year.”

“I wasn’ a peach, luv. You can’t convince yourself that you were the devil an’ I was the saint. That’s not the way it works. There were a number of things that the soul helped me see, but I wasn’ good to you, either.”

“What you did was reactionary to what I did.”

“How long did it take to convince yourself of that bollocks?”

“Two minutes.” She smiled at the look of astonishment that crossed his face. “The rest was swallowing my pride so that I could tell you. And it took a long time. From that first night when you were back, and I hated you so much for being there…almost as much as I hated you for leaving. And then you blew my mind away with the soul…and the rest was me getting to the point where I could tell you. So I told pretty much everyone but you. I told Mr. Vamp, who it turns out you sired, and I told Willow…only she didn’t let me know that I had until after we were in Europe.”

“You told Red?”

“Freudian slip that she never called me on.” A shy smile crossed her lips. “Apparently, when I was trying to go out with Robin, I told her that I wasn’t still in love with you.”

His eyes widened. “Implyin’ that…”

“Yeah.”

“God, Buffy…”

“Only I was wrong. I was.” She buried her face in his chest and shuddered. “I still am.”

His arms tightened around her, his body quivering terribly. “Fuck, pet, I love you so much.”

“Love you.”

Spike pressed an ardent kiss to her forehead.

“And I knew I loved you as things were beginning to get bad,” she continued. “And that’s why I…with Angel…when he showed up. I didn’t want to jinx anything with you. I didn’t want to love you and have you leave me. And yeah, in retrospect, not the brightest game plan, but I’m kinda dense.”

He rumbled a long chuckle against her.

“I fed him some crap about being cookie dough to get him the hell out of town, and I went home to you and…”

“Told me it was a hello.”

“I was covering.”

“Yeh.” He brushed another kiss against her skin. “To think, the ponce was so bleedin’ righteous.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Then paused. “Wait…what?”

“’S where I was.”

“Where…what?”

Spike shivered and pulled away, just slightly. “The amulet that Angel brought to SunnyD was shipped back to him with yours truly locked inside. He opened me up an’ presto—reverse martyrdom.”

“When?”

“Few weeks ago.”

Her eyes flashed. “And you didn’t—”

“What? Think about you? Talk about you? Demand to know where you were, an’ if you were okay? Spend every wakin’ minute conjurin’ up the many ways I was gonna hunt you down, take you somewhere, an’ shag you senseless when I saw you again?” He shook his head. “I was a ghost, pet.”

“A…is that possible?”

“Apparently.”

“But—”

“Jus’ as I got pulled here, Angel’d got somethin’ in the mail that made me very corporeal. Opened it, felt my skin come back, then I was here.”

“Angel…”

“Yeh.”

“And he didn’t…” Fire fueled her eyes. “He didn’t call me? Tell me that you were there? I can’t…” It didn’t take long; soon her whole body was wracked with outrage. “That selfish, smug, hair-stick-uppy asshole!”

Spike broke down at that, his head collapsing against her shoulder as long chuckles coursed through his body.

“Hey!”

“God, I love you.”

“Well, I love you, too, but we’re not talking about that right now.”

He glanced up to her, eyes shining with mirth. “Wanker had all but convinced me that leavin’ you alone was the sort’ve thing a bloke who loves you would do.”

“Well, of course. Angel’s philosophy is to love ‘em and leave ‘em.”

“Guess those nancy-boy hair fumes get to you after a while. I jus’…he made me feel like…”

“Any decision that wasn’t pre-Angel approved was automatically the wrong one?”

Spike eyed her dully. “Yeh, but I’d lived with the git before. Thought I was beyond that ‘lettin’ him influence my behavior’ thing.”

“Join the club, honey.”

“I should’ve read into—”

Buffy pressed her lips to his, and in seconds, they were drowning in the fire of each other’s kisses. She felt him hard against her, his erection pressing into her aching wetness. Whatever was in the past didn’t matter anymore. She had him now. Through some random twist of fate, she had him. Spike was hers again. And this time, she wasn’t going to let pride or apocalypses or the disapproval of her friends ruin the one stability in her life. Spike loved her, and she loved him more than anything. More than she thought she was capable of loving.

These months without him had nearly destroyed her. Scorned her with what they had, mocked her for everything she had never told him, and haunted her dreams with the future she thought was lost with her carelessness and her delayed revelations.

It didn’t matter now. Nothing did.

She had Spike. She wouldn’t let anything take him away again.

“Mmm,” he murmured against her, pulling away reluctantly. “As much as I’d love to…well…” He smiled when she blushed. “God, I din’t think you could do that anymore.”

“What?”

“Get all cute an’ flustered when I mention what I wanna do to you.”

Her blush deepened. “It’s different now.”

“Different?”

“There’s nothing…I love you, you love me…there’s nothing blocking…it’s just…” Her skin was on fire, most from arousal, a little from embarrassment, and she collapsed against his shoulder. “It just feels new.”

“New?”

“Yeah.”

He laughed and pressed a kiss against the claim mark on her throat. “One would reckon you’d never been in love before.”

“When I was in love before, I was young and stupid and overwhelmed…and used, really.” She pulled away from him halfheartedly, their fingers entwining as they began walking together through the night. “It’s different now.”

“Good different?”

“The best different. I love you more than I’ve ever…” She blushed harder at the look of astonishment that overwhelmed his eyes. “I’m a grown up now. I was a girl before. I was young and…well, what I felt for Angel was big and messy and confusing and I’d never felt anything like it before…and really, I don’t want to ever again. He’s not perfect by any means, but I always treated him like he could do no wrong. That was stupid.”

“I’ll say.”

“No one is flawless. What I have with you is real. I understand what I feel for you, and I don’t fear it anymore.” She smiled softly and brushed another kiss across his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby. So bloody much.”

“And now we should figure out where we are.”

“Thought that was bloody obvious.” He sniffed the air suspiciously. “There’s no way to fake that Sunnyhell scent.”

“I meant…where…we’ve gone…”

“Backwards?”

She nodded. “Uh huh.”

“Well.” Spike’s eyes narrowed and he nodded to a nearby park bench where a vaguely familiar man-shaped dark-haired college kid was macking on some brunette. “Think that might answer your question.”

She squinted. “Who is that?”

“You don’ remember?”

“He looks familiar.”

Spike’s brows arched. “Luv, that’s the bloke that—”

“Oh my God.” She stopped in her tracks. “Parker!”

At the sound of his name, the boy leapt to his feet, a guilty look flashing across his face. “Oh, Buffy!” he said, eyes widening. “You didn’t, uh, come back, and I thought—”

“Good God.”

“I know what this looks like, but…” He stopped when he noticed Spike beside her, his eyes dropping to their clasped hands. And amazingly, the guilt vanished for indignation. “Hey! What the hell?”

“What the huh?” Buffy glanced to her lover, who was torn between amusement and outrage. “I can’t believe you remembered what he looked like and I didn’t.”

“A century or so, luv, an’ you learn to remember faces.”

“Buffy, I thought we were on a date.”

The girl he had been smooching sat back with a lazy roll of her eyes. “So, this is the freshman conquest?”

Spike’s eyes widened dangerously at that, and he snarled. “Tell your bird to watch it,” he said lowly. “No one talks to my girl that way.”

“Your girl?” Parker retorted in disbelief. “She came here with me!”

Buffy rebuked in surprise. “What? Since when?” She turned to the man at her side again. “Is it possible we ended up in a parallel universe?”

“’S possible, but I don’ think that’s what happened.”

“Since tonight?” Parker continued, gesturing to the vampire disdainfully. “You ran off after he and this bimbo showed up, and you didn’t come back, so I—”

“Holy crap!” She twisted away from her lover, eyes wide. “We’re here? We’re back…oh my God!”

“Buffy?”

“No.” She held up a hand, shooting a glare at Parker. “Shut up, go bang your non-freshman hoe-bag. If you think I’d let you touch me the second time around, especially after all the fun we had during round one, you’re outta your mind.”

“Yeah. I’m the one that’s out of my mind.”

Spike’s eyes darkened. “You’re lucky I’m all souled up,” he snarled. “Else you’d already be a memory.”

“What the hell?”

But Buffy was not interested in listening to him. Parker was an ass and obviously not worth remembering, and her mind was too compact with things that actually mattered to waste more time justifying herself to him. Before Spike could leap in and give her old one-night-stand the talking to he so richly deserved, she tugged at his hand and coaxed him away, ignoring Parker’s calls after her. Especially ignoring the choice word he decided to brand her character with, even as her boyfriend snarled and vamped and gave her a look that read a burning need to rip the bastard’s arms off with which to beat him to death.

She bubbled with unexpected happiness as reality snapped into place.

Spike was with her. Spike was her boyfriend.

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said.

The vampire’s eyes widened and he broke off from where he had been muttering a litany of indecorous Parker-related adjectives under his breath. “What?”

“You’re my boyfriend.”

His eyes brightened even as he shot her a look that clearly questioned her sanity. “’m more than that,” he retorted. “’m your mate.”

“Actually, I have yet to claim you back.”

“We’re rectifyin’ that as soon as we get to a bed.” He smiled at her, though, and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “But yeh, pet. I’m your boyfriend.”

“I’m just trying to get used to it. ‘Hi, this is Spike, my boyfriend.’ ‘Have you met my boyfriend, Spike?’ ‘I’m Buffy, girlfriend of Spike.’”

“You’re bloody adorable, is what you are.”

“When did the Parker thing happen?”

His eyes twinkled teasingly. “Jus’ a second ago.”

“I mean—”

“Round the time I got the Gem of Amara.” His brows perked. “Don’ tell me you’ve forgotten the dimpled knees comment.” A pause. “Or, wait, yeh. You’ve forgotten that, right?”

Buffy squeezed his hand. “No, but I forgive you.”

His eyes grew misty again at the mention of the word, and he nodded. “We’ve been planted down right around the time that I got the gem…an’ you took it away.”

Her gaze widened. “You remember where it is?”

“Yeh.”

“We gotta find it.”

“So you can take it away again.”

“Of course not, you…” She shook her head when she registered the tease in his gaze. “Ass.”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

“You love asses, huh?”

“Just yours.” As if to confirm her affection for his derriere, she slid her hand down his backside and pinched him through his jeans, encouraging a shrill yelp through his lips. “And, well, I tend to vote for them.”

Spike smirked. “Touché, Slayer.”

“We need to get the Gem of Amara.”

“An’ not send it to Peaches.”

“No. I’m going to staple it to your hand.” She snuggled into his side. “Not taking another chance with you.”

“You, either, pet.” His eyes darkened. “You gotta let me kill Ben.”

“Ben?”

“The doc. Glory. One in the same, remember? Rupert killed him in round one…’f you think I’m going through your dyin’ again, you can bloody well forget it.” He tugged her close. “Even ‘f it means breakin’ the Fifth Commandment, you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Now, Buffy, I…” He paused. “Oh.”

“See, sometimes you have to stop and listen to me.”

“You’re really—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it now.” She turned her eyes to the ground, but continued on anyway. “I told Giles that if I had to kill Dawn to save the world, I would. I don’t think I could, but I said it to make a point. I’ve learned…it was hard, but I’ve learned that self-sacrifice is…one life against the weight of so many. Plus…” Her eyes hardened. “He betrayed my sister. He let Glory talk him into…he’s the reason I had to jump. You’re not the only one who can’t go through that again, Spike. You really think Willow would not raise me again?”

“Buffy—”

“Do you?”

There was a long pause. “No. ‘F all goes as it was, Red’s ego was enough to conquer a small country by the time she got to wieldin’ that sort’ve magic.”

“Yeah.”

They stopped walking at the edge of campus. Spike turned to her fully, his eyes absorbing her completely. “I keep expectin’ to wake up still,” he murmured. “This jus’…it doesn’ feel real.”

“No.”

“I can’t…” He shook his head. “’F this is a dream, I don’…”

“It’s not a dream, Spike.”

“You can promise that if I ever do anythin’ to mess this up, you’ll stake me, right?”

“I don’t think you can do anything to…we’ve already done the things people do to mess it up. We’ve already gotten past it.”

Spike smiled and drew her close, whispering small kisses against her lips. “I love you,” he murmured. “So bloody much.”

“I love you, too.”

“Am never gonna get tired of hearin’ that.”

“You say that now…”

“Seriously, luv. I can’t…” He drew himself away steadily and slid his hands into his duster pockets. “When I claim you again an’ you claim me back, I…” A frown fell over his face and he glanced down, drawing his hand out of his pocket again. “What the…”

“What?”

He held up his palm. Sitting in his hand was a small, spherical gem, green in color and cut from a stone that she had never seen before. It would have been unremarkable were it not for the strange look that washed over her boyfriend’s face. A distant shimmer of recognition buried with doubt. As though he knew what it was without having seen it before.

“What is it?”

“I don’t…” He glanced to her, then took her hand and placed the gem in her grasp. “I think it’s—”

That was all it took. Warmed from one hand to another, the small jewel burst into a glorious detonation and jumped from her skin, landing on the pavement before them.

And in a second, the image of Anya burst through the green. Like something out of a science fiction film. Something that grasped Buffy harshly for the realization that the night was getting a little too strange to accredit to reality, and she began to panic that she had dreamt it up all over again.

The mark on her throat burned, and Spike squeezed her hand tightly.

“Tell me again I’m not dreamin’,” he whispered furiously. “Please.”

“You first.” Her eyes glossed with tears. “Oh Anya.”

“What—”

“She died. In the final battle, she died. And Xander about died with her.”

A somber look crossed the vampire’s face, and he squeezed her hand again.

The image of Anya turned and looked in their direction, but didn’t make eye contact with either one of them.

“Buffy,” she said. “Well, first, hi. Second, if you’re getting this, it means I decided to grant you your wish.”

“My wish?”

“You probably don’t remember the wish,” Anya continued matter-of-factly. “It wasn’t an actual wish, but it contained the words ‘I wish’ so I have decided to deem it valid. I’ve recorded a memory of myself into a Hysl’ik gem.” She turned in the direction she had supposed Spike would be standing, which was aimed in actuality at the wooded park behind them. “I’m sure you’ve heard of those.”

“Yeh,” the vampire drawled. “I jus’ din’t think they existed.”

“Yes,” the image continued, as though anticipating the observation. “They do exist. And we sold them as mood rings at the Magic Box for $3.95.”

The vampire’s eyes flared. “You sold Hysl’ik gems for—”

“What the hell is a Hysl’ik gem?”

“I would like to take this moment to state that yelling at an imprinted memory of myself has little effect, as if you’re viewing this recording, my timeline no longer exists.” Anya turned back in the direction she had been looking when speaking to Buffy. “Your wish was simple, and took place roughly seventy-two hours after Spike returned to Sunnydale with his soul. I wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget.” She reached into her back pocket. “You stated, ‘I wish the next time I have a chance to be happy, I know enough to take it and not screw it up by being, well, me.’ Truthfully, you made the statement to Willow after we determined that she was making herself invisible to you, Dawn, and Xander, and I don’t think I was supposed to hear it, but I am a vengeance demon, and it is what I do.”

“Your wish?” Spike murmured.

“I…”

“You will notice that I have taken some creative license in granting your wish,” Anya continued. “Instead of allowing our lives to continue in the miserable sham we are currently entertaining, I have decided to send you back to the point where Spike reentered your life, pre-chip, with all your memories intact, and roughly around the time where Xander and I first copulated. In doing so, I will accept a payment of your gratitude by ensuring that the second time around, I will not be left in a wedding dress in the rain while my fiancé runs off because of a twisted hallucination.” She smiled and nodded, proud of herself. “I also found it redundant to grant your wish at the time it was issued, because it is currently ‘Beneath Us, Devouring’ and Spike is crazy in the school basement. My hope is that you two reach an understanding that allows you to commence with your chance at happiness without screwing it up, therefore guaranteeing much happier orgasms in my reconstructed future.”

“An’ here I thought her selfishness would never pay off,” the vampire drawled.

“Hey, you complaining?” Buffy replied.

“Not at all.”

“I consider this the end of our transaction,” Anya concluded. “The Hysl’ik gem will self-destruct within twenty-four hours of being activated. Thank you for your wish, enjoy your new timeline, and try not to mess everything up.”

She was gone as quickly as she had appeared, the green of the gem diffusing with the loss of her light.

Buffy’s eyes fixed on the small stone, and she squeezed Spike’s hand. “My God.”

“Yeh.”

She licked her lips and turned to him. “You…you know what this means?”

Spike smiled and brushed a tender kiss across her mouth. “Yeh.” He turned his gaze to the ground again, shaking his head. “She…bloody hell, I’ll be the best man at Harris’s weddin’ an’ everythin’ for what…”

“You still okay?”

He looked at her again. “God, Buffy, jus’ okay? I’m so much more than okay.” His arms came around her, and he whirled her around in delight. “You know what this means?”

She knew what it meant. Of course she knew.

She had just seen the proof.

Happiness unlike anything she had ever felt touched every nerve of her body. It was over-powering, almost too much, and she couldn’t help from breaking down. From releasing a long sob of pure bliss and launching herself further into Spike’s arms, burying her face in the crook of his throat.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he cooed, stroking her hair softly, his arm winding around his waist. “’S all right.”

“God…”

“Yeh, I know.”

“I love you.” She shuddered. “I love you so much.”

“Love you,” he agreed.

“Don’t let me screw it up this time.”

She felt him smile, but he didn’t bother to point out that she had chastised him on this very point not ten minutes earlier. Instead, he nodded his agreement and kissed his claim mark.

“We won’ let it happen,” he replied. “Both of us.”

So here it was. Sunnydale, four years in reverse.

She was in Spike’s arms. And they had a new start. A new beginning.

The night settling in on a rebirth neither had ever imagined. There was still so much to discuss. So much to talk about. But she didn’t care about that now. Not right now.

Right now, she just wanted him to hold her.

The rest she would think about once the break of a new day settled over her new-fangled life.

Once she knew once and for all that she had not awoken in a dream.

The Sounds Of The Earth Are Like Music

It was a startled Joyce Summers that calmed her sobbing daughter after being surprised by an unconventional late-night visit. Buffy had turned up on her doorstep, knocking as though she was a stranger, and had all but lunged into her arms, crying about how much she had missed her. How much she loved her. How sorry she was for every little nonexistent disappointment, and how she wouldn’t allow the ever elusive it to ever happen again.

That much Joyce just owned up to irrational teenage hormones.

It was the presence of Spike that threw her off. Spike looking at her as though she was a ghost, tearing up at the sight of the girl that was supposed to kill him in her mother’s embrace.

Spike was in her house, even after the lecture Buffy had given her about vampires the year before. After she had let Spike into her house and treated him with hospitality. Spike was in her house again, only he was different. She couldn’t exactly place why, but he was different.

He was looking at Buffy as though she was an angel.

As though he was in love.

And Buffy was an irrational mess of tears and apologies. Squeezing her uncomfortably tight and wiping erratically at her eyes every few seconds. Half of what she sputtered through her lips was almost assuredly in some language known only to kids of the 90s. However, as any mother, seeing her daughter cry made her cry, and within minutes, they were a threesome of illogical, sobbing fools.

For the life of her, she had no idea what had gotten into her daughter.

Or why Spike was there.

Why Spike cared at all. Why Spike, of all vampires, would be curled around Buffy, crying along with them.

There were just too many things that Joyce did not understand.

But as she prepared for bed that night, feeling appropriately exhausted after that cry-fest, she felt oddly at peace.

Something had changed tonight.

Something.

She would reserve plenty of time to grill Buffy about the particulars over the weekend.

“You okay?”

Buffy’s eyes were still red and swollen, but she nodded and snuggled deeper into his side. They were walking the familiar path through Restfield, a cemetery she figured she could navigate well after the world finally ended.

“Yeah.”

Spike squeezed her hand. “We’ll get her help, baby.”

“She probably thinks I’m crazy.”

“You weren’ exactly coherent.”

“I just saw my mother for the first time in three years.” She shuddered. “I don’t exactly know what I was supposed to be.”

“You were jus’ fine, sweetling.”

“Except the coherent part.”

“Yeh.” He smiled softly and brushed a kiss across her brow. “’Cept that.”

“Thank you for taking me there.”

“It was your mum. You might never have believed it, but I liked your mum.” He paused. “Plus, she was the only one of your lot that could stand me for more than a few minutes. I saw what losin’ her did to you. ‘F we have even half a chance to save her this time around, you better believe I’ll tear the bloody world apart to do it.”

She smiled gratefully. “I know.”

He grinned back at her, squeezing her hand lovingly. “So, pet, how we gonna do this?” he asked. “You wanna stay in school, I’m assumin’.”

“Yes.” The prospect alone had her insides bubbling. “More than anything.”

“An’ us?”

“I’m thinking an apartment.”

There was a beat of astonishment. He ducked his head shyly. “You want to live with me?”

“Ummm…duh?”

“I jus’…I…”

“You wanna do the claim thingy again sometime, don’t you?”

Spike’s eyes glossed over with passion. “Better bloody believe it,” he growled possessively. “Tonight. As soon as we find a bed.”

She flashed him a saucy smile. “And you’re sure? You don’t wanna go sacrifice yourself for the world again or run off with an insane vampire woman if she comes back—”

“You gotta get over this inferiority complex, sweetling.”

“Actually, I have a superiority complex but an inferiority complex about my superiority complex.”

“You’re confusin’.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Still, inferiority complex. There’s no bloody way I’d choose Dru over you.”

“You were with her for over a century.”

“Yeh. Then I met you an’ that was the end of that.” A wry grin touched his lips. “The slow, long end. But I turned her down for you before you loved me.” He paused. “Long before you loved me.”

“Yeah, and look where that got you.”

Spike chuckled warmly and tugged her to him, eyes dropping to her mouth. “Yeh,” he murmured. “Got me you. A long bloody time, a lot of pain…some that’s more my fault than yours…but so worth it.”

“My fault, and—”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Buffy—”

“It was my fault. I’m not saying you were blameless, but all that was—”

“You gotta stop.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “’F we’re gonna do this, we’re lettin’ all else go. A claim is forever. You understand that, right?”

“Forever.”

“As long as I live, you live…an’ vice versa.”

A frown marred her face. “I…will I…will you make me—”

“A vampire? Yeh, ‘cause I’m a heartless bastard.” Spike shook his head. “No, baby. You’ll remain jus’ as you are. Like this, right now. The Slayer. But you’ll be mated to me. You’ll feel everythin’ I feel, an’ I’ll feel everythin’ you feel. Claims are a way for vamps to form a connection with the one they wanna spend eternity with. ‘S like a marriage…only more. Marriage is what humans turned claims into, but our way is unbreakable.”

Buffy licked her lips. “But you’ve already claimed me.”

“’F you don’ claim me…’f it goes incomplete, it’ll wear off with time.”

Her eyes went wide. “I don’t want that.”

“Me neither.”

“Spike—”

“But are you ready to say you wanna live out what could be eternity?” His brows arched. “’m not sayin’ I’ll make it that long—”

“You will.” She wrapped her arms around his throat and tugged his mouth to hers, devouring him in a desperate, hungry kiss. “We’ve both already died twice. I think this time…”

“Goin’ at it together’s the secret?” he murmured, brushing his lips sensually over hers.

“I think so.”

“An’ you’re ready?” He was walking her backward until her back was pressed against a cold, stony surface. How many times had they done this in this very cemetery? In this very spot? How often had he caught her during or after patrol, sent her into a spiraling orgasm, only to devastate her with his eyes when she kicked him in the head and ran home?

Not again.

“Ready?”

“For eternity?”

“Yes.”

“I’m serious, Buffy. I’d never forgive myself ‘f you—”

“Eternity. That’s fine.” She smiled and kissed him. “I can deal.”

A humorless chuckle rumbled through his throat. “Sweetness, that’s nice to say an’ all, but—”

“I mean it.”

“You can bloody deal? I don’—”

“Spike.” Her smile broadened and she kissed him again, grasping his forearms and twisting him around so that he was pressed against the mausoleum, and her wandering hands were left free to explore. “Loving you while not…I don’t ever want to go through that again. You weren’t there, and you didn’t believe me when I told you…I never want to go through that again. And if you love me a fraction as much as I love you—”

His eyes narrowed at that. “A bleedin’ fraction?”

“—I never want you to go through that, either. I don’t want you to…”

“’F you die, I die. That’s how the claim works, pet.”

“Okay.”

“You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.” Her hand wheedled between them, cupping the hardness that was pressed against her stomach. “And for the record…I read up on claims while you were gone.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Her mouth fell against his throat, teeth teasing his skin. Nimble fingers pried his zipper down, a dueled moan rumbling through their throats as his cock sprang into her waiting grasp. “Read up on everything vampirey.”

“An’ claims—”

“Just didn’t know if it made humans go all bumpy in the forehead region.” She began pumping him tenderly, her eyes dissolving the ecstasy that flashed across his face. There was nothing quite like bringing pleasure to one who felt as fully with himself as Spike did. The slightest touch reduced him to a moany mass of goodness. When she held him intimately, glided her fingers up and down the hard length of his need, he all but melted into her skin. She loved doing this for him—always had, even when she denied herself what she felt. The veracity of what she felt. Feeling him come beneath her touch…there was absolutely nothing like it.

“A-an’…” His head fell back against the mausoleum, hips thrusting forward as small whimpers and sighs clawed at his throat. “You want…really?”

“Yes.”

“God, Buffy…such a hot li’l hand.”

Her brows flickered appraisingly. “You think that’s hot.” She pressed a kiss against his neck, then dropped to her knees before him. There was something so illicit about this that gave her the feeling she used to get when the elders glared at her for giggling in church. Not for what she wanted to do; more for the fact that he was fully clothed except for the proud extension of his cock in her hands, and she was in plain view of anyone who happened by.

Her tongue swirled around his belled head, and a long, tangled moan tore through the air.

“Fuck, Buffy!” he gasped, thrusting against her needily. “So bloody…god, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Mmm,” she murmured in agreement, shifting slightly as she took more of him into her mouth. No other man had ever made her feel cherished like Spike did, especially when her mouth was busy bringing him pleasure. His fingers threaded through her hair, massaging her scalp lovingly.

“Such a sweet mouth.”

She smiled and hummed against his skin, drawing her lips to the tip of him and suckling delicately. Then her mouth dropped, planting a path of wet kisses along the underside of his cock. “You like that?”

“God, Buffy.”

Her hand squeezed the base of his erection gently. “I’ve missed your taste,” she murmured.

A long whimper sputtered through his lips. “I’ve missed you tastin’ me.”

She chuckled, and he moaned again at the feel of the vibrations against him. “I’m not going to take you for granted this time,” she said, mouth releasing him with a wet plop, her hand tightening around him in absence of her tongue. “If we’re doing this for the rest of…forever, I’m going to spend every second making up for all the bad.”

Spike shook his head, passion halting his speech; his eyes were wide with both protest and astonishment.

“Yes.” She licked at his head, her teeth scraping at his skin gently. “Gonna erase all the bad.”

His body trembled at that, as though the thought alone was enough to push him over the edge. The fact that she wanted to eradicate their stormy past with a future that would set them apart from the great romantic couples in history, only she was determined that they have an authentic happy ending.

And since eternity had no end, she would have to strive for a happy life.

After so much hurt, she figured she was entitled. The past eight years had bathed her in enough pain to withstand several lifetimes. The Powers owed her one. They would fight through events and villains they had already defeated, but they would be wise now. Glory would die without building her tower. When Warren started causing trouble, she would phone the police and put his increasingly destructive crime streak to an end. If Willow began to lose herself to magic, she wouldn’t be blind to it.

And she wouldn’t let anything come between her and Spike. Ever.

There was no one in the world that she felt closer to.

It was a million things wrapped in one. His love. His friendship. His loyalty. The potency of how greatly he felt everything around him. And now, when they shared moments of stolen intimacy: the moans that rumbled through his throat, the way he threaded his fingers through her hair, the small thrusts against her mouth, his babbling praises making her blood sing. The head of his cock brushed the back of her throat, and she began swallowing, her hand wheedling further into his slacks to cup his sac. Massaging him tenderly with her fingers as her head bobbed against him.

“Fuck!” Spike gasped. “Oh God, Buffy!”

“Mmmm…”

“’m gonna…oh fuck…’m gonna…”

She nodded without removing her mouth from him, and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a passionate growl, his fingers fisted her hair and tugged her against him as he emptied himself into her welcoming throat. He collapsed against the crypt wall, panting harshly, his hand curled lovingly around her head.

“God, sweetling…”

Buffy licked him clean, wiping at her mouth as she rose to her feet. She smiled at the adoring, awed look he graced her with. “Did you like that?”

Spike arched a brow. “Buffy…God, ‘f I haven’t told you a thousand bloody times…”

“What? A girl likes to hear it.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, thrusting his hips forward slowly so that she could feel his erection between her thighs. Gotta love that vampire stamina. The gentle comfort his arms around her was something she would never again take for granted. There was so much about him that she loved; so many little things to counteract with the whole picture. Things she could accredit to the soul, other things that were constant with the demon and the man as a whole. She had loved him as both; she did. Unlike Angelus and Angel, Spike and, well, Spike were amazingly one and the same. He was the same vampire that could arouse her with a look and ease her with a touch.

“I’ve never…with you, I’ve never felt anythin’ with anyone like what I feel with you. I’d say you’re the best I’ve ever had, but that sounds cheap an’ implies that somethin’ else can even begin to measure up. Not bloody possible. Nothing can measure up to you.” He brushed a kiss against the corner of her mouth. “You’re my everything, Buffy. I can’t remember you not bein’. Even in the years before you, I feel like your shadow was there, waitin’ for me to find you. Followin’ Dru from country to country, decade to decade, needin’ you without even knowin’ it.”

Tears spilled over her eyes and she shuddered violently. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what, baby?”

“Everything.”

Spike smiled softly and pressed another kiss against her skin. “Sweetheart,” he said quietly, “please…”

“I—”

“You forgave me for doin’ somethin’ unspeakable to you.”

“Yes, but—”

“An’ I forgive you. For anythin’ you feel you need to be forgiven for. I don’ want our future to be about our past. You were the worst form of yourself, yeh, but that was hardly your fault. An’ I should’ve had the foresight to put an end to it well before you did…to see it was killin’ you.” His eyes fluttered shut. “You have any idea how much those words…”

“Spike—”

“It’s over now. I love you, you love me…an’ unless you decide against the claim, we have eternity before us.”

“I won’t decide against it.”

“’F you do—”

“I won’t.”

Spike smiled. “’S gonna take a while before I realize this is real,” he said softly. “That you’re really here. I’d convinced myself…”

“With my help.”

“Buffy…”

“The last time I’m gonna say about how terrible I was, I promise.”

“Bloody likely.” His brows waggled and he took her in his arms, reversing their positions so that her back was against the mausoleum. “Now…’f you’ll excuse me…”

He dropped unceremoniously to his feet.

“Spike!”

“Your scent’s drivin’ me crazy.” His head ducked under her skirt, a hand coaxing her leg over his shoulder. “Need to taste you.”

“Oh God.”

“’ve missed your taste, too, sweetling.” She felt his lips against her inner thigh, a finger sliding inside her pussy. “Oh Jesus, you’re so bloody wet.”

“Uhhh…”

“So tight.” His tongue lapped adroitly at her soft wetness, a moan vibrating against her skin. “You haven’t been with anyone else since…”

“No. Only you.”

A very still paused spread between them. “You’re not in that body anymore, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I meant…”

“Oh. No. There hasn’t been anyone…”

He stilled. “But…you mean it. You haven’t been with anyone since me?”

She thrust against him needily. “It’s been you for two years,” she gasped. “No one else. Only you.”

There was a different wetness against her skin at that, and she edged the fabric of her skirt upward until she could see him. His tears of wonder, the endless love with which he regarded her, the way his hands glided over her skin with trembling awe and reverence.

“Even…”

“I don’t get over men that easily, Spike.”

He huffed and lapped at her delicately.

“I don’t get over…men I love…that easily.”

He captured her clit between his thumb and forefinger and massaged her softly as his tongue sank inside her. “Mmm,” he murmured into her. “Okay.”

“Ohhh…”

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

She could practically feel his smirk against her wet skin. There were sharp shards of pleasure shooting through her blood, her body waging with her will to give into gravity and collapse on the ground. “You…you just want me to…stroke your…oh yes…your ego.”

He hummed his agreement, tongue drawing a long lap up her slit. “An’ when do I not?”

“Oh God!”

“Fuck, I’ve missed this.” His mouth abandoned her slick passage reluctantly, his fingers slipping inside her before her mewl of complaint touched the air. “Missed how sweet you taste. How hot you get for me.”

“God…”

“How wet you are when I touch you.”

Her hips thrust forward needily. “Spike!”

He smiled against her again, thrusting his fingers in and out of her pussy with loving veneration. “Missed feeling your sweet li’l quim squeeze around me,” he cooed. “Missed drinkin’ your honey. Missed your clit.” His tongue curved around her sensitive button, eliciting a sharp gasp from her throat. “Missed that li’l sound you make when I do that.”

“Oohhh, Spike.”

“Feel good?”

“Oh yes. Yes!”

Spike purred in approval, his grin broadening. “You taste like wine,” he replied gutturally. “So fucking good. God, Buffy…”

“Uhhh…”

“You wanna come?”

A choked sob ruptured past her lips and she nodded furiously. Her body was burning in that slow, delicious way that only Spike could simultaneously coax and quell. Her hips were driving forward into his hand feverishly as his mouth suckled sweetly at her clit.

And then something happened. Something that had never happened before.

Pleasure hinted with pain spread through her body; Spike had slid his fangs into her inner thigh. And she exploded into the sort of devastating orgasm that only the vampire against her could provide; the sort of solace she had only reached with him. The outstanding bliss she had only found with him. She felt so cherished under his touch. Felt as safe as she ever had, even with his fangs buried in her skin.

This was not about blood. It was love drowned in pleasure, and there was nothing in the world that could even begin to compare to the primitiveness of sensationalism.

Spike lapped the blood from the small wound before directing his mouth back to her pussy to lick up her spendings.

“Oh God…”

“Love your taste, baby,” he murmured. “So bloody sweet.”

“Spike…”

“So…” But the thought never saw fruition. There was a long pause as a contemplative look fell over his face, then his eyes went wide. “Oh sodding—”

“What?”

“I—”

Too late. She saw what had distracted him the next minute.

Willow and Oz had stopped a good twenty feet away, and were staring at her in dumbfounded astonishment.

It was like looking through a picture book. She had not noticed her friend as she aged, but being back four years in the past, it was impossible to ignore how the years had affected her. She was ten pounds lighter at least, her hair was short and curly, and there was a buoyancy in her eyes that had died the year that Glory had torn their lives apart. Something that grew dark with her submergence into magic. The innocence that taking lives had robbed from her was intact. And suddenly, Buffy remembered how desperately she loved her friend. How much she had missed talking with her, how she hated herself for allowing their friendship to disintegrate, even if she could never quite forgive her for ripping her out of heaven.

Willow hadn’t known. And as a result, Buffy had ignored her when she was silently crying out for help. What had happened that year had changed them all for the worst.

Here they were. They had the opportunity to relive it.

To change everything.

And now pre-gay Willow had caught her with her pants down. Quite literally.

“Buffy!” she yelled. “Are you…” Her eyes went wide. “You know, I didn’t know vampires liked to bite you…there.”

Spike shot to his feet and adjusted her skirt automatically. “I…uhhh…Red. F-fancy meetin’ you here.”

Buffy flushed and grabbed him by the waistband. “Sweetie…”

He glanced down and tucked himself back into his jeans. “Ummm…right.”

Willow’s skin was roughly the color of her hair, her eyes glued to him in astonishment.

“Avert your eyes, missy!” Buffy snapped territorially.

And the Witch ducked her head in embarrassment.

“’S all right, kitten,” her lover cooed soothingly. “Jus’ breathe.”

Spike was equally uneasy, though, despite what he said. His entire body suddenly wracked with nerves. And she read him without having to see his eyes. Without needing to be told what he was thinking. The notion broke her heart.

Buffy caught his hand and directed his gaze home. No. There was no way she was going to hide this from anyone. She’d done that once before, and it had nearly killed both of them.

Willow, on the other hand, had gone back to staring at the vampire as though she had just noticed who he was. “Spike!” she screamed. “Buffy i-it’s Spike! Spike with the bitey and the grrr! And he…” She frowned. “He was…biting you…down there?”

The blonde flushed. “Ummm…yeah.”

“’S something of a fetish of mine,” Spike drawled, shrugging. “Gotta love that Slayer musk.”

“Spike!”

Oz shrugged. “It’s like Angel, only with personality.”

The vampire snickered appreciatively. “An’ the not bein’ Angel bit.”

“Buffy…” The redhead was studying her as though she as an alien. “You…with Spike…what…I thought you had a date with—”

“Yeah. Let me tell you how that was gonna play out. Parker makes with the nice, gets me all with the naked, there’s a big Buffy sobfest when he gives me a brush-off that makes my morning after with Angel look like a scene from Love Story.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“How do you—”

“Just trust me.”

Willow glanced to Spike. “B-but…okay. I’m confused. You think Parker would…so you…with Spike? Have we forgotten the ‘mortal enemy’ part? The part where he’s all…fangy and evil, and haven’t you been there before? Like…last year?” She scowled disapprovingly at the vampire. “Y-you tried to shove a bottle through my face.”

“Yeh,” Spike said, nodding. “An’, in retrospect, that wasn’ my best move.”

“You…” The redhead’s confused eyes went back to her friend desperately. “Please explain this to me. You’re back on vampires?”

“Just one vampire.”

She gestured at the peroxide blonde. “This one?!”

Spike shrugged easily. “I have a soul now.”

There was a long pause.

“Okay, Mister, that isn’t even funny.”

“No, Will, it’s true.” Buffy shrugged. “Spike has a soul. He went and got his back in Africa.”

“They sell souls in Africa?” Oz looked impressed. “I don’t even want to know what they go for on the black market.”

“I fought for it.” He glanced down.

They weren’t ready for this. They weren’t ready to answer questions about their relationship. They hadn’t decided what they would tell anyone; hell, they hadn’t even talked about it.

This night was supposed to be for them, and them alone.

“But, umm, what are you guys doing out here?”

Willow and Oz exchanged a glance. “You a-asked us to patrol,” the former said. “Because the dateage with Parker…and H-Harmony having a boyfriend?”

“Bugger.”

“What?”

Buffy burst out laughing.

The redhead edged back at that, turning to the werewolf in startled confusion. “I-is she a vampire?” she whispered.

“No,” he replied. “But she does look abnormally happy.”

“Harmony was with Spike,” Buffy retorted. “It’s…god, Will, it’s a long story. A very long…you’re-not-even-gonna-believe-me story. And I can’t get into it now.” She squeezed her lover’s hand. “But I’m…this is…Spike and I are together. And…we have been for a while.”

“You what?”

“Couple years,” Spike acknowledged with a grin.

“Huh?” She turned to Oz again. “Am I crazy?”

“I always preferred the term quirky,” he replied with a lazy shrug.

“Buffy—”

“Long story,” the Slayer said again. “Spike and I are together…I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now…” She turned to the vampire again. “We wanna…go somewhere and…”

“Have more sex?”

Everyone glanced to Oz, who shrugged again.

“Werewolf,” he said, tapping his nose.

“Strange Anya-like bloke,” Spike drawled.

“Anya? The vengeance demon?” Willow frowned. “Xander’s prom date?”

“Long story. Later.” Buffy tugged on Spike’s hand again. “We’re gonna go make with the…”

“Shaga-reunion-athon,” the vampire concluded. “We’re off.” He stopped, though, when he noticed the look in the redhead’s eyes. “Trust me, pet…an’ I know that’s not easy. The Slayer’s not steerin’ you wrong. It is a long story…we’re still tryin’ to figure out how we ended up here. But…I’ll bring her back in one piece. Couldn’t stand it if anythin’ happened to her.”

“You guys know this sounds…”

“Yeah, well, it’s gonna get weirder before it makes sense,” Buffy said. “I’ll come home tonight and talk about it.”

Spike pouted at that and kicked at the ground.

“And then, you know, leave again.” She curled her arm around her lover’s middle and snuggled into his side. “It’s okay. I just can’t get into it now. We’re still…you’ll understand when I tell you.”

The look in Willow’s eyes portrayed a disinclination to agree. But she did not object as the vampire and the Slayer took off like newlyweds.

She turned to Oz and released a deep breath. “We can’t tell Xander,” she said.

“No, that would not be a good idea.”

Buffy, meanwhile, found herself torn from an emotional collapse.

“I wasn’t ready for that,” she said, squeezing Spike’s hand. “I…”

“We’ll talk it out, sweetling.”

“We’re not hiding from anyone.”

He smiled at that and brushed a kiss across her brow. “Whatever you want.”

But it wasn’t whatever she wanted; it wasn’t solely about her. She was a half of a whole now. Her decisions were Spike’s as well.

She wasn’t ready to face the bigotry of the Scoobies.

Tonight, she wanted to curl in Spike’s arms. Tonight she wanted to claim him as hers, and disregard the rest. She knew what tomorrow would bring. There were no surprises. Tomorrow, she would have fought Spike in the sunlight.

Tomorrow, she would see him walk in the sunlight. He would be her mate, and she his.

Her priorities were different now. Everything else could wait. If only a day, she would enjoy her recaptured heaven.

And cherish it before the storm.

Cat And The Fiddle

“I don’ have to be here,” Spike said as Buffy fiddled with the door to her dorm. It was so strange standing in the hall of her old room, faces her memory had shaded and filed with a thousand others. “Really, pet, ‘f you think you need to talk this up to Red, it might be better ‘f I’m—”

“No,” she retorted, tightening her hand around his. “We’re gonna do this right from the beginning. We’re together, we tell her together.”

“Are we sure we wanna tell ‘em at all?”

A long sigh tore through her throat. “I don’t want to spend a long time justifying my relationship with you. In fact, I don’t wanna spend any time justifying my relationship with you. That’s stupid, and I shouldn’t have to. I love you, you love me, and that’s all anyone should ever have to know about us.”

Spike smiled and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Have I mentioned how much I love this new outlook you’ve taken on?”

“I’m not eighteen.”

“Well, technically…”

“I’m twenty-two years old. I was going to be twenty-three on my next birthday, but now I’m not, because I’ll be nineteen instead. But I have four more years experience on my shoulders, and while my body will never catch up with my mind, that experience is still there. I’m not going to revert to the way I was because I’m here.” She shook her head. “If anything, my mind is going to turn twenty-three and continue to age four years ahead of my body for the rest of eternity. So here I am, twenty-two year old me outside my old dorm and I’m about to go inside and tell Willow, who is eighteen both physically and mentally, about why I’m with you and how I’m not gonna take any crap for it.”

“I love you so much.”

Her legs went weak. “I love you, too.”

“After so many years, I can still make you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Become jello-legged.”

She chuckled and twisted, her back pressed to her door, her arms automatically sliding around his throat. “Always. I’m just better about showing it now.”

Spike’s lips danced over hers provocatively. “I’ll say.”

“We should really go inside now.”

“So I don’ shag you senseless in this public hallway?”

“Well, I was going to say to talk to Willow about why you’re about to shag me senseless against our dorm room door. The not-getting-arrested thing is just a perk.”

“Super strength,” her boyfriend pointed out, his mouth dropping to her throat. “You could bust us outta the joint.”

“Yeah, or we could go inside, talk with Will, then find some place to spend all night engaged in uninterrupted sexcapades.”

“Mmm…” His teeth teased the bite mark on her throat sensually. “Like your thinkin’.”

“Yeah.”

“Mmkay. Let’s do this, then.”

A breath shuddered through her body as he moved away, and she nodded with a forced smile. “Yeah,” she said. “Okay. Here we go.”

She turned again and resumed her fight with the door. There had been a trick to get the lock to turn that she had forgotten in the long course of having so many more important things to worry about. It didn’t matter, though. In seconds, Willow had thrown the door open, her eyes wide and confused…and a little less than thrilled to see Spike at her side.

“Okay…”

“Sorry, Will,” Buffy said with an awkward smile, though her tone was anything but apologetic. “I have…Spike and I decided that it would be better if we told you together.”

“H-he can’t c-come in here.”

“Oh yes he can.” Buffy glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled. “Did you have an invite?”

“Not until after I came back, pet,” he answered with a soft grin.

Willow was thoroughly lost. “Huh?”

“Remember?” the vampire continued. “It was after the Initiative put the chip in my head, an’ I came here to kill you. Right after Wolfie…” He cut off abruptly and cast Willow an apologetic glance before turning back to his Slayer. “No, sweetheart, I don’ have an invite.”

“By the way, that Initiative thing? They come near your head, and I’m going to lay the place to waste.”

He smiled. “No chips ahoy?”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“D-do vamps n-need invites f-for dorms?” the redhead demanded.

“It’s our place, so yeah.” Buffy glanced back to Spike. “Come in.”

“Buffy!”

“It’s okay, Will. It’s really okay.”

“I’m so confused.”

“Yeah.” The Slayer nodded. “I know. And it’s going to sound crazy when I try to explain it…but…” A long sigh rolled off her shoulders, and her hand immediately sought Spike’s, her body relaxing only when his fingers curled around hers. She tugged him closer to her before leading him to her bed. They sat side-by-side, and watched quietly as a very distrustful Willow followed course and returned to her own mattress.

Then they were sitting across from each other, encased in silence.

Spike squeezed Buffy’s hand. “She looks like she’s gonna crack at any second,” he murmured. “Luv, why don’…”

The Slayer nodded. “Yeah. Ummm…Will…what would you say if I told you I woke up this morning in Italy?”

There was a long pause. “I’d…umm…say that’s a little strange.” Her eyes darted to the vampire, then to the couple’s clasped hands. “But right now, I’m ready to believe about anything.”

“How about…you were there, too? You and…Kennedy…and Giles, and Dawn…only Dawn’s in school now…and Xander—”

“Who…Dawn? Kennedy? Do I know a guy named Kennedy?”

Spike smothered a grin.

“No. Not yet.” Not ever, if all goes right. “And Dawn…Dawn you’ll meet in a few months.”

“Okay…”

“She’s my sister.”

Willow’s eyes went wide. “You have a sister?”

“Not right now, no. Right now, sitting here, I am the only child my parents ever had.”

“So your mom…” A strange look overwhelmed the redhead’s face. “Did your mom…and Giles…did they…dance to the tune of the funky monkey again and make with the—”

“Eww! No!”

There was a rumble of disgust from the vampire at her side. “Nice word picture there, Red.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“Dawn is fourteen.”

“And she doesn’t exist yet?”

“No.”

The redhead licked her lips. “Okay…that’s bizarre.”

Buffy nodded. “Will, when I woke up this morning, it was 2003 in late September, and we were in Europe because the Hellmouth was gone.” She squeezed Spike’s hand and prayed for strength. Even with her lover sitting beside her, with his body right next to hers, her skin tingling still with their earlier lovemaking, the shadow of the life she had awoken with that morning would take years to overcome. “Will…about three and a half hours ago, I was propelled back in time.”

The silence in the room was so thick, she swore she could see it manifesting before her eyes. A sticky, bulky substance of silence. Willow was staring at her like she had completely lost her mind, but there was something else. Some will to understand. Some knowledge crammed among logic that told her, quite plainly, that this was Sunnydale—this was a place of vampires, demons, and the girl Chosen to end all. This was the place where the impossible was made possible, and to write off something as impractical was the biggest faux pas one could make.

“You’re…you’re from the future.” A pause. “Both of you.”

“Yeah.”

“So…in the future…” She eyed Spike. “You two…”

“Yeah.” Buffy squeezed her lover’s hand again. “Well, no. Spike and I had…god, that story’s so much longer than how we got here.”

The vampire smiled softly. “Lemme take this one, pet,” he said, turning back to the timid redhead. “’Bout three years ago…or a year from now…” He frowned. “Yeh, that’s gonna get confusin’. Anyway, I got this chip in my head that kept me from bitin’ humanly types. Came back to kill the Slayer, got all chipped up, an’ stayed in SunnyD. Fell in love with her…oh bloody hell, the better word is realized. I realized I was in love with her three years ago. Buffy din’t take too kindly to that.”

Willow’s eyes fell to their clasped hands again.

“Okay,” Buffy said, shifting. “Here’s how it goes. I died.”

A pained gasp tore through the air. “You died?”

Spike’s eyes were glued to the ground. She could feel him; could feel the tension wrought through his body. The sorrow, the quiet that always overwhelmed him whenever the period of her death was mentioned. Buffy brushed a kiss over his shoulder to reassure him of her presence, and the tone of the room, as well as the obvious affection between the two blondes wasn’t lost on Willow. She saw everything, and though her emotions were still wrapped around horror at her friend’s admission, her heart softened with something akin to understanding.

“Yeah,” the Slayer replied a minute later. “I died.”

“I don’t…then…how did…” The redhead shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I jumped off a tower to save the world. And then you brought me back.”

“I what?”

“Bloody powerful witch,” Spike observed. “You brought her back. An’ you din’t tell me. More than that, you tore her outta Heaven. You—”

“Sweetie…”

“I jus’…”

“I…I tore you out of Heaven?” Willow’s eyes filled with tears. “Why…oh God, why would I do something like that?”

“You thought I wasn’t in Heaven.”

“Oh.”

The knowledge wasn’t resting well with the redhead, and that was fine with Buffy. It had never rested well with her.

“Anyway, when I was…out of Heaven…when I was back, I started spending a lot of time with Spike. It turned into sex, sex turned into violence…pretty much me beating up on him because I was so pissed off at you and everyone else and I hated myself…and Spike didn’t hate me. Spike loved me…no matter what I did to him.”

Her vision was going blurry. She had spent so much of the past few weeks crying her eyes out—with Spike’s death, with today in rediscovering bliss in his arms, with recounting all the wrongs in her past, and finally, for granting and accepting forgiveness. She loved him so much. She loved him more than she could even begin to fathom; more than she thought she could love. Long ago, she had thought she had no more love to give. The First Slayer had told her she was full of love, and she was right. It had just taken death, rebirth, and Spike to unlock it.

And now, she was swimming in love. She was besieged in love. It was unlike anything she had ever felt, and she would never again let it go. Not without a fight.

She would not go quietly. Spike was with her. Spike loved her, and that was all that mattered.

“What you…did to him?”

“Don’t,” Spike said shortly. “She…we’ve already been through this, pet. Buffy an’ I have come to an understandin’ about that. She hurt me, I hurt her…” He shuddered. “But I’ve…we talked it through. I did somethin’ unforgivable an’ left town…to get a soul so it wouldn’t happen again.” He paused. “Because I needed to be a better man for her. I came back, an’ I was a li’l crazy…an’ Buffy somehow…she forgave me for what I’d done.”

“What did you do?”

Buffy squeezed her lover’s hand again. “It’s not important, Will.”

“But I—”

“It’s personal. You never need to know about it. And it won’t happen again.” She shook her head. “We don’t…Spike and I grew close last year while the First Evil was trying to destroy the world.”

“The First Evil? That thing that…last Christmas, with Angel?”

The vampire at her side growled lightly at the mention of her first love.

“Yeah, that First Evil.”

“Did we win?”

A pained sigh rattled her body, and she nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “We won. Spike sacrificed himself, and we won. And I somehow…I made a wish to Anya, and now we’re back. We’re here. We can…we’re back where we were when things started going wrong. Back when…”

Willow’s eyes went wide. “Anya? Whoa, wait…she becomes a vengeance demon again?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Buffy!”

“It doesn’t matter.” Buffy rose to her feet. “Look, Willow…I have absolutely no intention of telling you every detail. I don’t even care right now if you believe me. I know it sounds wacky, and you have every right to write me off as having gone completely mental, if you like. I’m not. I’m with Spike. I’ve already done the hurty, hidden torrid love affair thing, and it doesn’t work. We’ve been through this and you haven’t. If I tell you what happened…I just don’t see any good coming from it. All I can do is hope that the knowledge Spike and I have will be enough to change the bad and enhance the good.” She paused. “I also have no intention of…I never forgave you for ripping me out of Heaven…but that’s not your fault. Right now, this moment…I’m going to try to not be the sort of person who would hold grudges for things that haven’t happened. That might not happen now.”

Willow nodded, her eyes distant and dazed. “D-do…do you know…is your…can you change…your dying?”

“Better bloody believe it,” Spike growled. “You think I’d willingly go through that again? That I’d let myself jus’…that I’d let Buffy…” He shook his head furiously. “’S not happenin’. I don’ care if I have to slaughter everyone in this miserable town, I’m not losin’ her again.”

An uneasy look worried the redhead’s gaze. “A-and you’re sure that he’s all…soulful?”

Buffy offered a wry grin. “He’s not like Angel, Will.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“I mean…Spike as you knew him and Spike plus soul are pretty much the same person…only this one has a conscience that’s not defined just by what I would want him to do.” She edged closer to her boyfriend self-consciously. “But they both love me…and I love them both. Monster and man combined and separate.”

“God, pet…”

Willow licked her lips. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to tell me everything…and when I say this is hard to digest, yeah, I am considering the possibility that the both of you have completely lost your minds or are planning your April Fools Joke way in advance…but okay.”

The blondes exchanged a glance, then looked back to her. “Okay?” they said together.

She nodded. “Okay. I’m not saying this makes me wanna do the Snoopy Dance or that I can say…you guys have been through a lot, it seems.”

“Understatement of the bloody century,” Spike muttered.

“More than a lot,” Buffy acknowledged.

“And…well, Giles isn’t going to accept the ‘shut up and get over it’ approach, and Xander’s gonna pull a massive wig…and if Angel ever finds out, well…let’s just say I’m happy that I’ve stuck to naming the fishies at the pet store instead of taking them home.” Willow smiled slightly. “So, okay. You’ll have me and Oz rooting for you.”

“The wolf’ll accept this?” Spike arched a brow. “Jus’ like that?”

The redhead shrugged. “He’s not a complicated guy. Or…he is, but not about complicated things…like that.”

Buffy smiled gratefully and rose to her feet, moving forward to take her friend in her arms. “Thanks, Will,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

“I still think there’s a distinct possibility that you’re completely nuts.”

“That’s okay.”

“Okay.” Willow pulled away reluctantly, tossing a glance to the vampire. “What was that about a chip?”

“There will be no chip.”

“Okay. I was just—”

“And we know who the commando guys are.”

“Well, that’s good, because I didn’t know there were commando guys.”

“Yeah.” Buffy’s smile broadened. “Okay. Well…we’re gonna go…find some place to stay for the night.”

“Is there no place?”

“Well, Spike’s crypt has yet to be made up and…well…” She shrugged. “We can find a hotel or something.” She shared a look with her boyfriend. “We could always go to the mansion.”

“Why can’t you two go home?” They tossed her an identical glance that read plainly what they intended to do when they were alone again. Willow flushed brightly and looked down. “Or, you know, that could be a very bad idea.”

“Yeh, li’l bit.”

“Very bad,” Buffy agreed.

“The mansion…” Spike’s eyes stormed over. “Not the best memories there, pet.”

“For either of us…but for reasons that no longer apply. You hated it because of Angel and Dru, and I hated it because of Angel.” A pause. “Unless you’re still hung up on—”

“Don’ even think it, sweetling.”

Willow grinned slightly. “You two are so cute.”

“Hey!”

“Oi!”

“Well, you are.” Her grin only widened. “And Spike…if you don’t mind…I’d like a word alone with Buffy.”

The vampire’s face fell. “Red—”

“Girl stuff,” she explained.

“She wants to ask about you,” Buffy said. “About…stuff.”

A flash of exaggerated terror washed over Spike’s face, but dissolved just as quickly for the look that the Slayer shot him in reassurance. “Right, right,” he agreed after a second, hands going up in surrender. “’ll be outside.”

“At the end of the hall,” Willow said, tugging at her ear. “I know you…vamps.”

Spike again glanced to Buffy for her verdict, and pouted when she nodded.

“Bloody women.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised, brushing a kiss across his lips.

“Don’ particularly wanna let you outta my sight, baby,” he murmured. “Don’ wanna chance—”

“I know,” she said. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Right.” He kissed her again, then pressed his lips to the claim mark on her throat. “Don’ be long…please.”

“I won’t.”

It was a strange sensation, watching him leave the room. Feeling him leave. Whether it be the weight of her feelings or the claim that was half-complete, she felt sliced in two without him beside her. The sensation was large and frightening, but strangely, more reassuring than anything else that had happened tonight. It existed. Like the night itself, the feeling existed. It was something where nothing had lived for weeks. Something where nothing had threatened to consume her.

Spike would be there when she walked outside. She knew it, because this was real.

“Okay,” the redhead said hurriedly. “He is just the cutest thing!”

Buffy threw her head back in laughter. “Willow!”

“Well, he is! He’s all attentive and sweet and with the moon eyes. Seriously, never thought that would be something I’d say to describe Spike, of all people, but…” Her friend had a girlish excitement about her that had died during the year Anya had given them to relive. This was the Willow that Buffy had missed. The ‘tell me all the goodies’ Willow that wanted all the juicy, yummy details of her assorted male-related encounters.

There would be some hard decisions coming up. Namely, was she going to allow Oz to go ahead and break her friend’s heart, knowing how that ended? Tara was one of the sweetest girls in the world, and Buffy loved her dearly. But was it better to prevent them from meeting and assuredly eradicate all possibility of Tara’s death at the hand of Warren? Despite her plans to have the Trio arrested after the first of their lame crimes, Buffy knew not to chance that changing one thing didn’t mean the problem would go away completely. But if Tara never entered their lives, she couldn’t be killed by someone who was after the Slayer.

She would never know Willow, either, and Buffy wasn’t ready to say that was a good thing. Or a bad thing. Tara’s family would still come after her, and she would still think she was a demon. On the other hand, Willow with Tara was also dangerous. The two had a healthy relationship, sure, but it had spurred the redhead’s addiction. It had driven her to madness with a magical twist, and had ultimately almost ended the world.

There were so many things she didn’t know. So many things she didn’t want to chance. And playing with fate was the last of her intentions.

She would discuss it with Spike. They were a whole now, after all. And Spike had a perspective on life that only age and experience could provide. He would know what to do.

“So, tonight was the big reunion? You hadn’t seen him since…”

“Since…yeah. We were outside and then I saw him…and knew. I knew who I was and who he was, and that I loved him. And I knew that he knew. It was fast, and we both thought we were dreaming…”

The redhead’s eyes flashed with excitement. “So you guys just…leapt at each other?”

Buffy’s cheeks reddened. “Pretty much. When Spike…before he died, after he had a soul, we hadn’t…done anything. You know? He was back and we were rebuilding our relationship, and we’d reached something that was…almost beyond anything that…it was just real. It was real, hard love. But we didn’t do anything until the night before the apocalypse. I knew it was the last time…somehow I knew. And we made love, and the next day before he died, I told him I loved him for the first time, and he didn’t believe me.”

“Oh!”

“And then he died.” She had started crying again without even realizing it. “And I was…these past…being without him after that was just…and when I saw him, I thought fate was dangling him in front of me to be mean…but then it was real and we…”

Willow smiled. “Well, you’ve got me on your side. We’ll have to work on Giles and Xan, but I’ll seriously go all wicked witchy on them if they give you grief.”

That was almost terrifying, but Buffy forced a grateful smile.

She had absolutely no way of knowing.

“Thanks, Will. I really appreciate it.”

And she did. Despite all else, despite the messiness she knew the future was capable of bringing, she definitely appreciated what was given to her now. The calm acceptance of her best friend and the promise of the relationship they could recover.

The relationship Willow, for the most part, didn’t know was in jeopardy.

Buffy was more than eager to step out of the old dorm room. She wouldn’t be able to live there anymore. An apartment, even the mansion…some place that wasn’t related to this part of her life at the time at which she had originally lived it. Some place where she and Spike could start again. She wanted a place for them, not a place buried in old memories made new.

He was waiting for her at the other end of the hall, relief swarming his eyes when he saw her again. Immediately, he prowled for her and swooped her into his arms, hugging her close as though they had been apart for months.

“Don’ wanna do that again.”

“Talk to Willow?”

“Let you outta my sight.” He kissed her needily, his thumbs caressing circles into her cheeks. “At leas’ not for the first year or so, after I’m ready to accept that this isn’t going anywhere.”

She smiled and rested her head against his chest. “You ready to go?”

“To the mansion?”

“Unless there’s somewhere better.”

His arms around her tightened. “No, luv. Seems rather fittin’.” He pulled back just slightly and grinned. “Back to the beginnin’, right? Our beginnin’. Let’s start off on the right foot this time.”

Her insides warmed. “Sounds perfect.”

And it did. It sounded absolutely perfect.

Tonight was the eve of their beginning. Tomorrow would be the start of the rest of their lives together.

And she was determined. This time they would get it right. Their follies would be shared; their celebrations would be each other’s.

Tomorrow was the beginning of that.

Tonight they would seal the past by going back to the beginning, and setting the footstones of their future together.

Falling From The Stars

The mansion, while Angel had used it as home after his tenure in hell, had never been a place to call home. She remembered vaguely how, after a period of time, she could walk through the door without shuddering inwardly at what had taken place during her junior year. How Angel had made it into something different, not so much for its grandeur; rather for its availability.

However, this place would always be landmarked as the location where she officially lost her innocence. Where she killed Angel and was catapulted into the first in a long series of personal tragedies. She felt nothing of the original sorrow these walls had harbored, though. Not now. Her stomach turned slightly at the thought of what this place had once meant to her. The years she wasted over the shadow of a man that had robbed her of her childhood while promising a future that he would never be able to give her.

She loved Angel in her own way. The way one fondly recalls an old acquaintance. A distant memory of a forgotten friend, someone whose memory remained preserved as something entirely different from who he had grown into. He had made her into an adult, though, far before she was ready to face it, and though that might have stood once as a testament to how she survived for so long, it similarly blocked her from accepting the man at her side. From thinking that anyone would ever love her as passionately as she thought Angel had.

“We don’ have to stay here ‘f you don’t want to,” Spike said softly. He was watching her intently, his eyes inquisitive and cautious.

Buffy turned to him in confusion. “I…is it hard for you?”

“No, pet. I jus’ think it might be hard for you.”

“It’s not.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been around for a few years. I know that look when I see it.”

“Maybe you only think you know that look. I’m not giving any look. I am essentially lookless.” She smiled softly, kicking her shoes off. “And even if this imaginary look exists, it’s not what you think it is.”

“’S not?”

“No.”

“But I jus’…you need to know that I’m okay ‘f it is.”

“No, you’re not.”

He nodded begrudgingly, shrugging his duster off and tossing it to the nearby sofa that had gone unoccupied for, in this timeline, months. “No, I’m not, but I’m the one who has you now.”

“I was thinking how much I resent Angel for taking away my childhood.”

There was a long pause.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I misread the look.”

“Looks like.”

He frowned. “Bad pun.”

“Yeah.” Buffy smiled and curled into his side. “I love you. And being here…it just serves as a million reminders of why I do. The number one reason at the moment is that you’re not Angel, and you’ll never be Angel.”

“To a bloke that’s seen you over the past few years, though—”

“I don’t want Angel. What I felt…you telling me that I didn’t love you hurt about ten bajillion times more than the entire ‘killing my first love’ thing…I can’t even begin to tell you.”

His expression grew somber. “Not exactly the best method of consolation, sweetling,” he murmured. “Tellin’ me I hurt you…”

“You did what you thought you had to.”

“An’ that makes it right?”

“I knew why you did it. It hurt like…well, nothing else, but I knew why you did it. I hadn’t given you a reason to believe me.”

“Buffy—”

“All the good in the world can’t erase the bad, Spike. It’s still there.” She sighed and glanced down. “What I did…I can understand why you’d think—”

Spike cupped her cheeks and brought her lips to his, kissing her with such reverence, it inspired tears to her eyes. It would be a while before she settled with the idea that this was something she deserved. Her past was marred with scars and hurt, and for as long as she had held onto ideals that should have died as she grew older.

Angel was her Ashley Wilkes.

The thought made her snicker.

“Buffy?”

“I just mentally compared myself to Scarlett O’Hara.”

Spike grinned sardonically. “Miss Scarlett has nothin’ on you, baby.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Close. ‘S true.”

“I’m just saying, when I finally realized I’d been in love with you for years while stupidly waiting around for Angel, it was too late.” She offered a watery smile. “You were gone.”

“Yeh, but there’s one small difference.” His arms slid around her waist, and he pulled her flush against his body. “I give many damns.”

Then he was kissing her. His lips were on hers, moving against her sensually as his tongue plundered into her mouth. And then the past didn’t matter. Not anymore. Right now, they were simply together. What had happened had happened, and the future was not set. They could change their destinies. They could fulfill what they were intended for and take the road less traveled by.

She had thought it was too late to turn around. It wasn’t. And had the Fates not intervened, she never would have realized it.

“God, Buffy.” Spike drew his lips away from hers when he remembered that she needed to breathe, smiling into her eyes before his mouth took chart down her throat. “You’re so gorgeous.”

She hummed in pleasure. “You just like to flatter me.”

“Uh huh. That’s it.”

“I knew it.”

The vampire rumbled a chuckle, his fingers dancing down her sides. “You’re a bloody water sprite,” he murmured. “Like a Frost poem that leaps off the pages. You’re a goddess an’ you don’ know it.”

A long shiver ran through her body. “Spike…”

He lifted her shirt over her head, a shuddering sigh quaking his shoulders at the sight of her; standing there before him, pert nipples peaking through the white lace of her bra. “God,” he gasped, palming a breast reverently. “Have I mentioned how much I’ve missed you?”

He was on his knees the next minute, mouth engulfing her through the thin fabric. Buffy threw her head back, her fingers threading through his hair. “Once or twice.”

“Mmm…” He snapped the front clasp of her bra open, tongue encircling a nipple, suckling her sweetly. “Missed your titties.”

“Guh…”

His hand was already busy at her skirt, sliding up her leg and releasing a warm sigh into her skin when his fingers brushed against her sopping flesh. “Fuck,” he panted, his eyes trailing up the length of her as he slid two eager digits inside her pussy. “You’re always so wet for me.”

“Spike…”

Her skirt was gone the next minute, his tongue curling around her clit as he moved his touch within her slowly. “I could do this forever,” he murmured. “Never tire of your taste. Your li’l gasps. The way you throw your head back…” He nipped at her sensitive button, gaze flashing when she subconsciously followed his words, her eyes falling shut. “Yeh, baby. Jus’ like that.”

A long moan tore through her throat, and she fisted the material of his black tee, drawing it hurriedly over his head. “Spike.” She pushed him back just slightly so that his mouth abandoned her with a mutual moan of protest. “Want you.”

“Want you, too. For now an’ bloody ever.” He reached for her and grasped her wrists, tugging her forward until they collapsed back on the floor. Buffy straddled his hips, her eyes wide with need. The deep azure of his gaze flickered back at her, and he smiled seductively. “You smell delicious.”

She drove her hips into his, gasping as his denim-clad bulge struck her clit with every thrust. “Oh God.”

“Mmm…”

“Need you.”

Her rhetoric seemed to simplify when she was in the heat of passion, and he found the trait endearing. “Need you, too.” His smile widened and his hands clasped around her wrists, dragging her up the length of him until her pussy was hovering over his mouth. “You interrupted my snack.”

His tongue plunged inside her before she could reply, and a long, strangled mewl tore through the air. “You have…a fixation.”

He chuckled into her, and she shuddered at the pleasure of the vibration.

“Don’ see how you’re fairin’ at the wrong end of said fixation,” he replied before delving into her again.

“Oh God!”

“Mmmm…”

“Spike!” She threw her head back, her eyes wide. Hot-white shards of pleasure were spreading like wild fire through her body. “Want…want you inside.”

His thumb settled over her clit, beginning a slow, torturous massage. “I am inside,” he retorted, tongue diving into her pussy again. “Feel me inside?”

“Ohhh!”

“Taste so fucking good.”

“Spike, please!”

The vampire indulged one last long lick then averted his attention to the proud bite mark gracing her inner thigh. “Love you,” he growled, mouth latching onto the small wound and suckling intently. “So much.”

“Oh GOD!”

“Come for me, baby. Wanna taste you. Wanna drink your wine.” His fingers’ attentions to her clit intensified, and she could feel the inferno inside her raging toward explosion. And when he sank his blunt teeth into her skin, she touched the heavens. Her body erupted into a detonation of unbridled bliss. She felt Spike’s mouth move back to her pussy, felt his tongue exploring her, lapping her up, and every stroke simply fueled the explosion. Her skin was searing, her insides were on fire, and the old cliché of seeing stars became a reality beyond anything she had ever experienced.

Spike edged her down his body carefully, purring his contentment. He looked positively over-satisfied with himself, but she didn’t care. Her body was singing and it was because of him. He could be as nasty or vulgar as he liked; he had every right.

“Give us a kiss,” he said instead, luring her down to his wet mouth.

That jarred her back to herself. A long, playful laugh tickled her throat and she threw her head back. “Eww.”

“Eww? Kissin’ me is eww all of a sudden?”

“You have…” She gestured in articulately.

“’m covered in Buffy juice.”

“Spike!”

“What? ’S the truth.” He chuckled again and shook his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You li’l hypocrite,” he said dotingly, tugging her down again and plundering her lips with his. “’S good enough for me, but—”

“Me, too. Or should I remind you?”

“You an’ your magic tongue.” He kissed her again. “An’ your cute li’l hypocrisies.”

“I am not a hypocrite.”

“I beg to bloody differ.”

“Humph.”

“You’ll taste me but not yourself? I’d wager I get the better end of that bargain.”

“Hey, buster, I’ve tasted myself plenty of times.” She frowned as his eyes fogged with lust. “Okay, that didn’t come out right.”

“Oh, it came out jus’ fine.”

That self-satisfied smirk needed to be eradicated, she decided. Her fingers were already busy at his fly. Spike always managed to keep her naked despite regardless whether or not he joined her in her nudity. She remembered that well—remembered the hours he would spend bathing her with his tongue, bringing her over the edge too many times to count. Keeping her delirious with pleasure so that she would stay. So that she wouldn’t leave him.

That was over now. It wasn’t all about keeping her satisfied, and it was time he knew.

The future was for them.

He whimpered as her hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him slowly. “I don’t mind tasting you,” she said, sliding down to lap at his length. “Me? With kissage? Just seems messy.”

“Delicious, you mean,” he gasped, thrusting forward.

“To each his own.” A long moan coursed through the air when she released him to tug his jeans down his legs completely, taking her time unlacing his boots as he watched her. The anticipation was something that drove Spike crazy; she remembered that much simply for the times she spent with him that she hadn’t been consumed with selfishness and dedicated time getting to know what drove him mad with lust. Though such incidents were few and far between, she was going to rectify that now. Use her memories and what little knowledge she had to make him cross-eyed with satisfaction.

When he was completely naked, she sat back and smiled her contentment. He was panting with need, his eyes imploring her in desperation. “Buffy!”

“Need something?” she asked kittenishly, her hand encircling his erection once more, massaging his shaft eagerly.

“You,” he growled. “Get up here.”

“I like it down here.” To accentuate her point, her mouth descended over his cock again, drawing him into her wet cavern. Spike’s eyes went wide and he released a tangled moan, his head falling back again as his hips thrust into her needily.

“Buffy—”

She pulled back, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. “See? Like it down here.”

“Fuck!”

“M’hmm.”

“Cheat.” He sat up suddenly, hands coaxing hers away from him even as she huffed her discontent. “Want to be inside you.”

“That didn’t seem to matter when I said it.”

“Well, no, because I wanted to taste you.”

“So now that I wanna taste you—”

Spike shook her head and tugged her up his body again, his cock sliding against her warm wetness. “’S not what you’re doin’, pet,” he replied. “You think I…Buffy, the claim’s half-complete. I can feel what you feel. An’ you’re daft if you think half of anythin’ I do to you, or did to you, is because I thought you’d leave me. I jus’ love you, then an’ now, and I wanted to worship you the only way I could. For bringin’ me this far.”

Her eyes filled with tears for the hundredth time that night. “I…”

“I don’ need a series of favors, baby. I jus’ need you.”

“But if I want…” Her eyes fell closed and a long whimper coursed through her body as he slid inside her. “Oh God.”

“You feel so good.”

“Oh…”

“So bleeding wonderful.” Spike coaxed her down to him, his arms wrapping around her as her head rested against his chest, her breasts flattened against his skin. Then he flipped her over, his cock thrusting deeper inside, and they shared a moan of completion. “This is all I ever need, sweetheart,” he said, covering her throat with small, bitey kisses as he began moving slowly within her. “I jus’ need you.”

“But I…” She arched into him, her fingers threading through his hair as his mouth found her breast. “I like worshipping you, too.”

“We have forever for that.” His hips thrust steadily into her; small sighs and whimpers scratching at the back of his throat with every plunge. “We have forever, sweetling. There’s no rush now.”

“No rush,” she agreed, nodding feverishly. She jerked him back to her lips, swallowing him in a hungry kiss, her arms encircling his throat as she thrust zealously against him, recapturing his cock with every withdraw. As though he had been born a part of her body, and every time he pulled away and in again, it sent her into a spiraling frenzy of forgotten need. “God, Spike.”

He smiled sweetly against her lips, kissing her again. “You feel so wonderful,” he murmured. “Like nothin’ else, sweetheart.”

Like nothing else, because there was nothing between them now. She was with him because she loved him, and the future was theirs.

“Oh God.”

“Love you.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder, then buried his face in her throat, his body setting a fast yet tender tempo. “I love you so much. Never lettin’ you go.” He shook his head against her. “Made that mistake once.”

“I did.”

“No—”

“Don’t argue with me.”

He chuckled, driving into her harder now. “Don’ think that’s possible, pet,” he murmured, nipping sweetly at the half-completed claim mark. “Never possible. That’s half the bloody fun.”

She smiled at him, but didn’t reply. It was amazing how close she felt to him. How having words to match the sensations flooding though her could enhance everything she felt. She was more connected with him than she had been to anyone. Now. This moment. His arms around her, his body thrusting steadily into her, stroking her to a fiery blaze.

“God, Buffy,” he panted, laving a wet path around a nipple, nimble fingers caressing her neglected breast. His thrusts deepened frantically, her muscles strangling him with every plunge. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“Uhhh…”

“You feel so bloody good.”

“Oh yes,” she mewled, jerking his mouth to hers once more. “So good.”

“My tight li’l Slayer. So warm. So bleedin’ hot.” His thrusts intensified madly, lips finding hers in an ardent frenzy. “Love you so much,” he whimpered against her lips. “You set me on fire. You’re so hot. So bloody perfect. Feel like…fuck, baby, it’s never felt like this. Gets better every time. Every bleeding time.” He slid a hand between them as a familiar burn started to spread through her body. Their mouths met again zealously, bursting into a fury of frenzied kisses. The still air around them filled with the slap of their thrusting flesh, the hard slip and slide of his cock from her body triggering her into an explosion of sensory.

His fingers stroked her clit speedily, his fangs bursting into his mouth. “I love you,” he told her fervently. “I love you so much. Love you.”

“Yes!”

“Need to feel you come, sweetheart.” His mouth lowered to her throat, incisors skimming her skin. “Need…”

“Spike!”

“Need to…” His control was slipping. She could sense it. Felt the familiar need spread throughout his body. His muscles tightened beneath her touch. “Need…Buffy, I need to…”

“Do it.”

“Buffy—”

“Claim me.”

The world had never heard a more perfect sentence. And the second his fangs sliced into his mark and she shuddered into an explosive orgasm. His name ripped through her lips, colors flashing around her as her body sang in celebration. Yes. This was it. This was home. She was his. They had forever now.

“Mine!” he growled into her skin. “Mine, Buffy. You’re mine!”

“Oh yes!”

“Say it!”

“Yours.” She tugged him close. “Yours, Spike. I’m all yours.”

That was it. His head reeled back, and he lowered his throat to her mouth. “Bite me, baby,” he begged. “Do it. I need you to do it. Need…”

And she did. As though her body was meant for it. As though everything she had ever done had been leading her to this moment. Sealing her fate for eternity. Making him hers, and accepting the realism of her plight. No longer alone. She was his, and he belonged to her. She would never let him go. Her teeth sank into his throat, marking him as hers, deep into his skin until she tasted his blood in her mouth.

“Fuck!” Spike gasped, thrusting into her frantically.

“Mine.”

“Buffy!” She felt something wet splash onto her skin, her body exploding all over again into a new awakening. And she felt everything. Every emotion rolling through his body, the chorus singing through him, the wash of love he had. Everything. He was weeping against her in completion, his body coming hard inside her. They belonged to each other. She had brought him home. Finally, after everything, they were home. “Yours,” he sobbed. “Yours. Forever.”

She didn’t know how much time passed before he raised his head again, panting hard, settled in the wondrous solace of belonging.

Tonight. One night out of a thousand. One night where her dreams had merged with reality. Tonight was the beginning of something new. A future that hadn’t existed just a few hours before. A future that was now theirs to change.

Two people had the power to alter the course of the universe.

Spike pulled out of her reluctantly, collapsing on the floor beside her. “God, Buffy.” His arm wound around her, pulling her against his chest. “I love you so much.”

“Love you.”

“An’ you’re mine now.”

She smiled gently and nodded. “Yours.”

“No regrets?”

“Oh, tons. Most right now centering on…why the hell it took me so long to…” She shook her head. “My…god, tonight…”

“Bloody dream come true.”

“Oh yeah.”

Quite literally.

She was so afraid to fall asleep. So afraid to give fate a chance to take everything away from her. Tonight had awakened dreams and eradicated all-consuming grief. Had taken her from the misgivings she had so richly fed, the sparks of self-loathing for the way she had let this end between them.

There was no end now. They were together. In one night, everything had changed. She had rediscovered herself in Spike’s arms. Had been given a new chance. A silver lining in a world stormed in clouds.

“Don’ wanna sleep,” he murmured, even as she felt him rumble in exhaustion. The night had been physically and emotionally draining, but there was nothing warmer than the bliss flooding her body. “Don’ wanna…”

“I’ll still be here.”

“’F you’re not, I’ll find you.”

“Not if I find you first.”

He tugged her closer. “Never lettin’ you go again.”

“Never.”

The rest was for tomorrow. For the sun that was peeking over the horizon, the new morning settling over a town that had not existed the day before. There was a future to change, obstacles to defeat, and a whole other world of decisions to make. But she wasn’t afraid. Not now.

Not with Spike behind her, kissing her skin sweetly as he pulled his duster off the sofa, and settled it over their sated selves.

She had this now. This was all she needed for tomorrow.

They fell asleep together just as Sunnydale was given the first of many new days. A blessed fresh beginning. The start of something wonderful.

But for now, they rested. The future required their strength.

And the rest would be left to time and chance.