Chapter 25

“That’s it?” growled Spike as he paced back and forth in front of the French door in the living room. “The little ponce just dropped you off like that? How could he!”

“Spike,” said Buffy. “It was a long time ago. He was a kid, he was just 18. Plus…Angel…scary.”

“God, I’d love to get my hands on that fucker!” said Spike.

“Dead, remember?” asked Buffy.

Spike stopped and looked at her. He nodded once and rejoined her on the couch. “You’re tired,” he said as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, but I want to finish this,” said Buffy as she interlaced her fingers with his. We’re close to the end.

Spike lifted their clasped hands to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist.

“Angel moved to San Diego. He started to follow me. I tried to stay with people…lots of people. I went to school year round, so that I could continue to live in the dorm. I tried to stay away from him. But I couldn’t, not always. So, there were other instances. As the year went on he became more and more desperate, more and more obsessed. He was watching me from a distance. I could feel it. I could feel him. Watching. Lurking in the shadows. Waiting,” she began.

“Did you ever go to the police?” asked Spike.

“I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, too weak,” admitted Buffy, unable to look him in the eye.

“You sure you don’t want to come home with me for Spring Break?” asked Willow.

“Nah!” said Buffy. “I’ve got work. Plus, that paper to work on.”

“I just don’t like you being alone,” said Willow, nervously biting her lip.

“It’ll be fine,” said Buffy with feigned confidence. “It’s just a week. All of my shifts are during the day. I’m just gonna stay holed up here. I’m going to be study girl. Plus, I haven’t seen Angel around in weeks.”

“Call if you change your mind? You know my house is only about five miles from here. I can come back and get you any time,” said Willow.

“Right!” agreed Buffy. “I’ve got the number.”

Willow picked up her backpack, gave Buffy a hug and walked out the door. It was mere seconds later that Buffy heard a knock.

“Forgot your keys again?” she asked as she unlocked the door and swung it open.

“Angel!” she gasped as she threw her weight against the door, trying desperately to re-close it. Angel stepped back and then hit the door, full-force with his shoulder. The door crashed open. Buffy was thrown back, her head smashing into the wall behind it. When she opened her eyes Angel was standing over her.

“Miss me?” he asked as he cocked back he first and punched her. She heard her nose brake. Blood began to gush down the front of her face. She looked down and watched as drops fell onto her new white Keds. Angel grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head up so that he could look her in the eye. “Cause I’ve sure missed you,” he said as he leaned in and began to lap up the trail of blood that was oozing down her chin. He followed the stream as it wound its way down her neck. He reached up with both hands and pulled open her starched white blouse. She moaned as she heard the tearing of fabric. Buttons flew everywhere.

“He had come prepared. He gagged me. He tied me to the bed. For three day’s I laid there while he used, tortured, and raped me. He was mad. He left me only to get food for himself. I had no food, no water. By the third day I had given up any hope that it would end. I began to pray for death.”

“You smell!” he said as he climbed off of her. “Christ! This place reeks of sex!” he remarked as he stood up and deeply inhaled. Angel tilted his head to the side, appeared to think for a moment and then added, “You know? I kind of like it! Well, I’m off to shower! Don’t go anywhere.”

Buffy was feeling almost delirious. She watched through hooded eyes as Angel walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She heard the squeal of the old pipes as he turned on the hot water. Then she heard something else, the jangling of keys outside in the hallway. She turned her head towards the door. At first she thought she was hallucinating. There was Willow standing in the doorway, backlit by the stark light of the hallway.

“Oh, Goddess!” cried Willow as she ran into the room.

Buffy’s eyes darted to the bathroom door in warning.

“Angel!” gasped Willow as she ran to the bed and released Buffy’s gag.

Her voice was dry, her throat parched. “G-get me out of here!”

“Can you walk?” asked Willow noting the numerous cuts and bruises on her legs.

“Untie me! Quick!” said Buffy.

Willow ran over to the desk and began to frantically search through the drawers, “Scissors! Scissors!” she chanted.

“Use his knife! It’s on the nightstand!” said Buffy.

Willow grabbed it and swiftly cut through the silk scarves that he had used to bind her feet. She then ran around to the far side of the bed and made short order of cutting through the one that secured her left arm to the bedpost.

“Just one left!” said Willow as she rounded the bed. “You’re almost free!”

As she began to slice through the last of the bindings they heard the water turn off. Their eyes met. “Go!” whispered Buffy.

“I’m not leaving you,” replied Willow. “We’re leaving together.”

Just as she felt the knife slip through, severing the last of the silk scarf, Buffy heard the door open up. Before she could shout out a warning he had grabbed Willow and thrown her up against the wall. Willow slid to the floor, unconscious, releasing the knife. Buffy flew off the bed and scrambled, sprawling onto the floor, searching out the knife. Angel effortlessly kicked it away.

“You know what?” said Angel as he wrapped his hand around her throat and began to squeeze. “You’re beginning to bore me.”

Just as Buffy was beginning to feel the relief wash over her, the welcome slowing of her heartbeat, he released her.

She rolled onto her side and coughed. She watched him as he slipped his shirt on and then stepped into his jeans.

“Get within sight of me again and I’ll kill you,” whispered Buffy.

“You can’t do it!” he laughed. “You can’t kill me! You love me too much! You don’t stand a chance against me, baby. You never have. You’re mine. You’re nothing. Look at you,” he said standing over her. “No weapons,” he said as he slipped his knife back into his pocket, “no friends,” he added nodding towards Willow’s crumpled form on the floor, “no hope,” he finished smugly. “Take all that away, Buff... and what's left?”

“Me!” said Buffy as she sprang to her feet, bringing her knee up, forcefully, and connecting with his crotch. Angel doubled over, his hands instinctively covering himself in protection. Without hesitation Buffy reached out and grabbed the clothes iron that was on the dresser of her dorm room. And she swung. With every ounce of strength left in her, she swung. Angel never saw it coming. The last sound he heard was that of Buffy’s voice shouting, “You’re going to Hell.” Right before his skull shattered, right before the world went black, right before his heart stopped beating.

“Willow came to just a few minutes later. She found me, still standing there, naked and bleeding, with the iron in my hand. She called the police. She saved my life,” finished Buffy.

“Remind me to thank her,” said Spike softly, as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

Chapter 26

Buffy smiled and then leaned her head back on the sofa.

“I’m not the first man you’ve been with…since Angel?” asked Spike.

“No,” replied Buffy. “But you’re the first one, the only one, I’ve told.”

“Why did you tell me?” asked Spike as he lovingly ran his hand over her hair. “What is it that really made you decide?”

Buffy stepped away and walked over to the French doors that led onto the balcony. It was still dark outside and the sky seemed shrouded in a surreal, purple glow as Buffy gazed out onto the sleeping city.

“It’s a new day,” she whispered.

She heard him get up and walk over to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, making tiny circles with the pads of his thumbs, but he said nothing. He just waited, patiently.

“I realized that I could fall in love with you. I-I thought it would be better to do this now,” she said, her voice starting to fault her. “I thought it would be better… you know…hurt less,” she finished.

“Hurt less?” asked Spike, confused.

“For it to be over, now, between us. Before we get too emotionally involved,” she said quietly, opening up the door and stepping out onto the balcony into the bracing morning air.

“What? Too involved?” he asked, following her. “Too late for that, isn’t it? This… us… it doesn’t… Don’t you want me anymore? I thought we we’re off to a good start here!”

Buffy spun to face him, her eyes glistening with tears. “Of course I want you there’s nothing wrong with you!”

“And I still want you,” he said gently as he took her hands in his.

“How could you?” she asked looking up at him. She saw her own pain reflected in his eyes and it was too much, “How could you possibly want me? Look at me! See me! See how… what I am, Spike. How could you possibly want me as I am! I’m n-” “Because, I love you,” he said, steadily.

He felt Buffy stiffen and begin to turn away. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Hey, look at me. I’m not asking you for anything. You don’t have to say it back. When I say I love you, it’s not because I want you, or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You are a hell of a woman,” said Spike.

“Been working on the speech long?” asked Buffy as the tears rolled, unchecked down her face.

“My entire life,” said Spike. “I’ve just been waiting for the right girl. And, you’re the one, Buffy.”

“God, if I wake up now I’m going to be really pissed,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her head against his chest and sighed. “I don’t deserve you. I’m going to work really hard with Faith, I promise.”

“You deserve everything,” said Spike. “Don’t make your work with Faith about me. It’s about you. Do it for you, because you want it.

Buffy’s stomach audibly growled.

“Well, that was romantic,” she said, glancing down at her stomach.

“Oh!” said Spike, taking a step back. “I almost completely forgot! Speaking of romantic….”

“What?” asked Buffy looking at him sideways.

“I’d like to whisk you away tomorrow. One of the Bit’s friends is having a birthday party, a sleep over thing, Janice. Apparently, the invitations went out before Dawn started at the school. The girl’s mother called earlier this evening and said that Janice really wanted to include Dawn,” explained Spike.

“Dawn has a friend?” asked Buffy.

“It seems so,” responded Spike leading her back into the living room and locking up.

“Did you accept?” asked Buffy.

“I didn’t want to without checking with you. So I gave a tentative yes, we were supposed to call back and confirm hours ago. One of us needs to call in the morning. She wants to go,” said Spike.

“That’s good. Right? We should let her. But, what if-” started Buffy, feeling nervous.

“We’ll just be a phone-call away. I’m not taking you far. We won’t even leave the city limits. What do you say? Twenty-four hours…just the two of us?” asked Spike, hopefully.

“What if this Janice’s family isn’t…nice?” asked Buffy.

“I’ve met the mum, the father’s out of the house. They divorced a few years ago. Her name’s Rachel and she’s an emergency room nurse over at Mercy Hospital. They live close by in the home she grew up in. Janice is an only child. There are no guns in the house. Rachel’s a democrat. She doesn’t believe in spanking. She’s on that low-carb diet that seems to be all the rage and it’s killing her because she misses potato chips. They’re catholic. I think she’s okay. You can call her in the morning and chat,” finished Spike as he walked over to the kitchen.

“How on earth do you know all that?” asked Buffy.

“She picks Janice up around the same time I pick up Dawn. We’ve chatted a few times,” said Spike as he turned the light on over the stove.

Buffy felt a pang of jealously over this woman, a woman that she didn’t even know. She was envious that Rachel had easily revealed so much of herself in the space of a few casual exchanges.

“I’ll call her in the morning. What time is she supposed to be there? We’ll need to get a gift,” said Buffy.

“Rachel said we could drop her off at noon, pick her up around the same time Sunday. The other girl’s aren’t going to arrive until 4:00PM, but when I told her I was hoping to take advantage of this and take you on a little holiday she offered to have Dawn come early. I figured I’d go embarrass Wes over at the club, then stop and get some supplies on the way home. You and Dawn can take care of the gift. We can all meet back here at, say, 11:30? We’ll drop Dawn off and then…you’ll be all mine. How does that sound?” finished Spike.

“It sounds good. I mean, it sounds great!” said Buffy, nervously.

“Be honest,” said Spike.

“It sounds both inviting and a little scary, just you an me, no distractions,” said Buffy.

“Intimacy is scary,” agreed Spike. “I promise I won’t bite you.”

“Whew!” joked Buffy, rolling her eyes. “That’s a relief! But, hey, what if I like little, you know, light sexy bites?”

Spike smiled at her, licked his lips and with a wiggle of his eyebrows promised, “That I can do. Want to split a sandwich?”

“Sure,” said Buffy following him into the kitchen. “Actually, I could probably eat a whole sandwich. I’m suddenly starving.”

“Coming up!” declared Spike as he started rummaging in the fridge.

“You realize that you’re spoiling me, don’t you?” asked Buffy as she climbed up onto one of the barstools.

As Spike laid sandwich supplies on the counter he looked at Buffy and winced.

“What?” asked Buffy.

“Well, seems you’ve found me out, uncovered my sinister little plan,” said Spike.

“You’re plan?” asked Buffy.

“I intend to ruin you. I’m going to spoil you so thoroughly and completely that no other man will ever want you,” said Spike matter-of-factly as he spread mayonnaise on the wheat bread that he had set out in front of him.

The apartment was dark and quiet, save the dim light that illuminated the area over the stove. The hour was late, or very early, depending on your perspective. Sometime during their talk Spike had removed his shoes, socks and shirt. He was barefoot; his hair completely disheveled from running his fingers through it repeatedly during their conversation. His t-shirt, which was wrinkled and contained traces of her make-up, was sloppily un-tucked. He set down the knife that he held in his hand and screwed the cover back on the jar of mayonnaise

“I think I love you,” said Buffy, softly. She didn’t even realize that she had said it out-loud, not until his head flew up, his eyes connecting with hers.

His heart rate immediately sped up. “Steady,” he said to himself as he slowly released a breath. Her eyes widened in surprise. He watched her hand fly up to her mouth in a failed attempt to recapture the words. He let a long moment pass. “Well, you be sure to let me know when you’ve decided for sure, won’t you?” he asked a slow smile curving at the corners of his mouth.

Buffy nodded, her hand dropping back down to her lap.

“Now, do you want lettuce and tomato?” asked Spike as he stacked turkey and cheese on top of the bread.

“No thanks,” replied Buffy as she laid her head down on the counter and yawned.

Spike chucked, “Am I gonna have to eat this for you?”

Buffy lifted her head up, accepted the sandwich he was handing her, and followed him over to the table. “No, sorry. I’m just tired.”

“Let’s eat and get some rest. My alarm is going to be going off in a few hours to wake me up for fencing. If you want to stay in your own room, I’ll understand,” offered Spike.

Buffy looked up at him and froze, mid-bite. “Do you want me to stay in my own room?”

“No. I’d much prefer you sleep in my bed,” he said.

“Well, you know, technically that bed that’s in your room is mine too,” teased Buffy.

Spike set his sandwich down and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe we should start calling it our bed.”

“Our bed,” said Buffy out loud, trying it out, before taking another bite of her sandwich.

Chapter 27

“Come on, Spike!” begged Buffy as she followed Spike into the convenience store. “Just a hint?”

“No,” he said, for the third time. Spike walked to the back of the store, pulled a bag of ice out of the freezer and then headed towards the checkout counter. “It’s a surprise. We’ll be there in 10 minutes. You can wait.”

“Buffy? Hey, it is you!” Spike heard someone say as he accepted the change from the cashier.

“Riley, how are you? It’s- it’s been a long time,” replied Buffy.

Spike turned around and saw Buffy talking to a tall brown-haired man.

“I’ve been great, actually. You’re looking good. What are you doing out here on Harbor Island?” asked Riley.

“I’m afraid I’ve kidnapped the lady,” said Spike, extending his hand. “Spike.”

“Spike?” repeated Riley. After Spike’s curt nod of confirmation Riley accepted his handshake and said, “Riley.”

The door chime sounded and in walked a very pregnant dark-haired woman, “Honey, can you get some of the New York Super Fudge Chunk, too?”

“Hey, Sam,” said Riley turning towards her. “Come and meet someone. Buffy, this is my wife, Sam,” said Riley as he wrapped his hand around her waist and rubbed her swollen belly. “And this is junior, here. He’ll be popping out in just a week or so.”

“Congratulations,” said Spike, spontaneously. “Is this your first?”

“Yeah,” acknowledged Riley. “Sam, Buffy Summers and Spike…er-”

“Giles,” finished Spike. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as Spike realized that Buffy hadn’t said anything. He glanced over at her and noted that her gaze seemed fixed on Sam’s protruding belly. She watched as Riley casually ran his hand over it.

“I made Captain last month,” announced Riley, oblivious to awkwardness of the moment.

“Gee,” said Buffy, “that’s just great, Riley, really great. We kind of have to get going. It was good to see you. Nice to meet you, Sam.”

“Okay,” said Spike as he opened the car door so Buffy could slide in, “that was strangely uncomfortable.”

Buffy climbed into the car and sat in silence as Spike closed the door, dropped the ice that he purchase in the trunk, and then climbed in himself. As he pulled out of the parking lot he glanced over at Buffy and said, “Seatbelt, pet.”

“What? Oh!” replied Buffy as she fastened her seatbelt and resumed looking out the window. A moment or two passed as Spike drove on. “He looked happy, didn’t he? Riley looked happy.”

“Seems he’s got a lot to be thankful for, recent promotion, new wife, first child on the way. He’s got reason to be happy,” responded Spike.

“Yeah,” said Buffy, sounding a bit wistful.

Spike pulled into the parking lot of Sunroad Marina, quickly found a parking space, and cut the cars engine. “You were in love with him once?” he asked. “Maybe you still are?”

“No, I wasn’t in love with Riley. But, I wanted to be. He seemed…normal. For a long time I thought that Riley was my chance to have the kind of life I always dreamed about. He was the reason I started seeing Faith the first time,” admitted Buffy.

“The first time?” repeated Spike.

“I saw that I was losing him. I went to Faith so she could fix me,” said Buffy, placing air quotes around the word fix. “We had been seeing one another for a year and a half. It was Riley’s birthday. I got up early and made muffins, blueberry, they were his favorite. I drove over to his apartment. I parked across the street and just before I got out of the car the front door to his house opened to reveal he and…and Sam, in a lover’s embrace.”

“Did you confront him?” asked Spike.

“No,” said Buffy, sadly. “Well, not directly. Not like Faith suggested. I asked if everything was alright between us. He told me…” Buffy paused and began to play nervously with the hem of her top. “He told me that something was missing. That he didn’t believe I loved him.”

“But, I do!” said Buffy, feeling panicked. “I do love you.”

“You say the words,” replied Riley, “but I just don’t feel it.”

“Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” said Buffy.

“I believe that you want to love me. It’s…it’s just not enough, Buffy,” finished Riley. “I need something more.”

“I wasn’t enough,” said Buffy. “I guess I should be happy for he and Sam.”

“Just feel whatever is true,” said Spike as he opened the car door.

“Where are you going,” asked Buffy.

“We’re here, luv. Get on out,” said Spike.

“We’re here?” said Buffy looking out at the sea of sailboats in front of her. “I thought we just pulled in to talk.”

“Nope!” said Spike as he slammed the door shut and walked around to the trunk. “Did you ever stop to think that the reason it didn’t work out with Captain Cardboard wasn’t about you? Maybe the right chemistry wasn’t there.”

“Envy,” said Buffy as she joined him at the rear of the car. “I guess I feel a tad envious.”

“Just a tad?” asked Spike lifting an eyebrow in question.

“Remember how I told you that when my father left I decided right then and there that I would never get married and have children?” asked Buffy as she watched Spike walk over to retrieve a dock cart.

“Yeah,” he said as he pulled it back over to the car and started to unload the contents of the trunk. “Let me guess. The truth is that there is a part of you that wants it all, the house, the husband, the 2.5 kids,” began Spike.

“And the dog,” said Buffy, quietly. “I always wanted a dog.”

“You know,” started Spike as he slammed the trunk closed and began to head towards the metal gait that lead to the docks, “maybe someday it’ll happen. You might stumble upon Mr. Right yet.”

Buffy felt her stomach drop.

Spike inserted his key in the lock and opened the gate. As he held it open for her he winked, smiled, and said, “Who knows, maybe you already have.”

“I don’t know,” said Buffy as she walked through the gate and down the ramp to the pier, “I’m getting pretty old.”

“Yeah,” said Spike as he stared appreciatively at her as she walked in front of him, “but you’ve still got a great ass.”

Buffy turned and looked at him over her shoulder, a brilliant smile on her face, “You think so?”

“Yeah!” chuckled Spike. “It’s the kind of ass that inspires men to write poetry.”

“Stop it!” admonished Buffy.

“It’s completely true, I swear it. Perhaps I’ll surprise you later with a bit of verse,” he said pointing to the left. “Ours is the fourth boat on the right.”

“Thunder n’Rayne?” asked Buffy as she looked at the gold script painted across the red transom of the 42-foot boat.

“This would be it,” replied Spike as he effortlessly leapt over the cabled rail that surrounded the perimeter of the boat. “Hand me that stuff, will you?”

“Sure,” replied Buffy as she handed over the contents of the cart. “Whose boat?”

“My Da’s,” said Spike as he accepted the last bag.

“Your father’s?” asked Buffy, surprise evident in her voice. “I didn’t realize you had a father. Does he live in San Diego?”

Spike extended his hand, “Hop on, luv.”

Buffy took Spike’s hand and climbed on board the boat, stepping over the line then down onto the fiberglass bench where he was standing. Spike jumped off of the bench onto the deck then lifted Buffy down, “Course I have a father, I wasn’t hatched, you know. He lives in London, though.”

“You’ve just never talked about him,” said Buffy as she watched Spike unlock the cabin cover and removed it. “And your last name is Giles, so I thought…”

“Yeah, well, mum and Ethan never did marry. She would never agree,” said Spike. “Hand me down the supplies.”

“Why not?” asked Buffy, curious.

“My Da’s got a bit of a reputation with the ladies. He loved mum, asked her many times, but she knew how he was, the kind of life he led. She wanted something quieter, simpler, for us,” explained Spike. “When she found out she was pregnant she moved here to the States to join Rupert. I was actually born here. It took until I was around three for Ethan to talk her into returning to England. We moved back and forth several times when I was growing up. I probably spent as many years in London as I did here in Southern California,” explained Spike. “That’s the last of it, come on down.”

Buffy turned around and climbed down the ladder into the main cabin. It was surprisingly spacious. To the left was a galley, which held a refrigerator, stove, sink, and oven. There was a table on the right. In front of that was a sitting area containing a red suede loveseat, chair, and television. “Wow!” said Buffy as she looked around. “Who knew? Spike, your Dad must be rich! Can I peek in the bedroom?”

Spike laughed, “Go ahead! Explore to your little heart’s content. I’ll just put up the groceries, then we’ll be off.”

Buffy opened the first door to discover the bathroom, “Everything looks brand new.”

“It’s not, nine years old in fact. But Ethan never uses it and I take good care of her. She’s my baby,” said Spike as he placed the bottles of beer in the fridge.

“I thought the Desoto was your best girl?” asked Buffy as she opened the door to the forward cabin.

“No,” said Spike as he walked up behind her, slipped his hands around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, “you’re my best girl, luv. You are far more fun to play with than a bloody boat or car.”

The tiny cabin was built for maximum efficiency. The bed was adorned with a denim comforter and red and white checked pillows. There was a small built-in nightstand on either side with drawers underneath, and a tiny closet. “Why don’t you unpack, then I’ll go throw your empty suitcase back in the trunk, it’ll give us a bit more room,” suggested Spike.

“Okay,” said Buffy. Spike returned to the kitchen, put away the last of the groceries and was just about to go up top to check the lines when he heard her gasp, “Oh my God!”

“What?” he called out, a bit alarmed as he returned to the cabin.

“That’s Ethan Rayne!” declared Buffy pointing to the family picture that had been obscured by the open closet door earlier.

Spike nodded, then placed his hands in his pockets and struck a casual pose, leaning against the door-jam.

“Your father is Ethan Rayne? Sir Ethan Rayne? How is it you never mentioned this?” asked Buffy.

Chapter 28

Buffy tilted her head to the side and studied him, “You know? I can totally see the resemblance now. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It just never came up,” replied Spike with a shrug.

“Never came up?” repeated Buffy, incredulous.

“Ok,” said Spike as he picked up Buffy’s now empty suitcase and pushed it under the bed, “I tend to avoid the subject. At least until I get to know someone, really know him or her, and even then, sometimes I keep it to myself. There. Doesn’t look like I’ll need to put it back in the trunk after-all.”

“Why?” asked Buffy as she watched Spike walk to the galley and pull out a beer.

“It wasn’t easy, growing up the bastard son of a famous actor, Buffy. People can be cruel, the press can be cruel, and other children, especially, can be cruel. He did his best to shield us from it. It was hard on mum. It was her choice, to stay in the shadows, in the background. But there were times she resented him deeply for it. There were times I resented him deeply for it,” explained Spike as he climbed up top and began to check the lines.

“I didn’t even know Ethan Rayne had a son,” said Buffy following him.

“And, you’ll never hear him speak about me,” offered Spike. “He doesn’t talk about his personal life in interviews. See these?” he asked holding up one of the bumpers that had been hanging off the side of the boat. “When I push off I want you to pull these up.”

“Okay. Do you ever see him or talk to him?” asked Buffy as she watched Spike hop back down and untie the two lines that secured the boat to the dock.

“Yeah, seems even more so now that mum is gone. He stopped working for a while, crawled into the bottle for a bit. But, he’s back on track now, doing rehearsals for “Macbeth”,” said Spike as he pushed off and jumped back on.

As Buffy pulled the bumpers up, Spike started the engine and began to motor out of the slip. The day was glorious. Buffy sat down on the bench, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back, letting the sun shine down on her face. She could feel the wind as it brushed across her cheek and the warmth of the sun as it bathed her body in its glow. The rocking of the boat as it made it’s way across the water was lulling her to sleep when she heard Spike ask, “Can I get you to steer her into the wind while I unfurl the sails?”

Buffy opened her eyes and looked over at him. Gone were the black boots that Spike normally wore. He had traded them in for a pair of rubber-soled tennis shoes. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt over his blue jeans and it billowed in the wind as he stood at the wheel of the boat. Buffy stood up and walked over to him, “I am at your disposal, Captain Giles,” said Buffy saluting smartly, “ready to follow orders.”

Spike beckoned her to join him at the helm. “I’ll keep that in mind for later,” he whispered suggestively in her ear. “See that point?” asked Spike as he cut the boats engines. “Keep the bow lined up with it. Turning the wheel to the right makes it go-” began Spike.

“Right. And, left for left? Now, where’s the brake?” asked Buffy as she looked on and around the console.

“Ha-ha,” said Spike, dryly as he rolled his eyes and set about taking the cover off the mainsail.

It took just a few minutes for him to get the sail up. “What about the other one?” asked Buffy pointing the headsail.

“Let’s go with simple, for now. Don’t know about you, pet, but I’m a bit knackered,” answered Spike as he took over at the helm, placing his hands directly on top of hers. “Thought we’d sail over towards the Coronado Bridge, drop anchor, throw dinner in the crock pot and relax.”

“Sounds wonderful, Spike,” replied Buffy as she leaned back into him. “How did you get the nickname?”

“Drusilla,” he replied. “She started calling me Spike, it stuck.”

“Step away from the girl,” said William.

“Look man, you’re new around here. So, I’ll forgive the interruption…this time. Trust me, you don’t want to get involved in this,” said the older boy who had just roughly pushed the fragile-looking dark-haired beauty against the wall of the dark school hallway. “Drusilla, you know the rules, if you don’t have the cash,” he said as he reached down and began to pull up the hem of her skirt.

“Please,” he heard her plead. “I’ll get you the money.” And then she looked over the boy’s shoulder, her eyes connecting with his.

William had no idea what possessed him. He had seen her in the halls a few times. They even shared a class or two. But they had never spoken. Not with words. Not even then. As he looked into her eyes he saw her fear. He knew what she wanted, what she needed… from him. Quick as a flash he had the older boy pinned to the ground. The boy’s nose was bleeding and William had his hand placed firmly around the boy’s throat. “I don’t think the lady’s interested, mate,” said William, teeth clenched in anger.

“Sweet, William,” said Drusilla stepping over towards the two boys and dropping to her knees. “Why, it’s true! Underneath your nothing but a bad dog, meant to smash and bash you are…grrrrr…bad dog,” growled Drusilla as she snapped her jaws. “I shall name you, Spike. The stars told me you would be coming for me, my Spike.”

William’s brow furrowed as he looked over at a glassy-eyed Drusilla. “What did you give her?” asked William, applying pressure to the boy’s throat.

“Just weed,” coughed out the boy, “but who knows what else she’s taken. Get off of me! You want to be her knight in shining armor, pay her bill, she owes me a hundred.”

“Spike, we should go,” Drusilla bent over and whispered. “A crowd is starting to gather and Princess is tired…and hungry, I think I need to go home.”

William looked up and saw that, indeed, a small group of kids were now surrounding them. “I’ll have the money for you tomorrow. Stay away from her,” he said as he climbed to his feet and walked away. The crowd parted for him as he moved down the hall, towards the door, the anger still rolling off of him. William left the building and walked, swiftly around to the back alley. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and lit up. His hand was shaking as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke, tilting his head back and resting it against the brick wall. He heard a noise and looked towards the entrance of the narrow passage. He saw her, walking towards him, backlit by the low afternoon sun. She moved with the grace and deliberation of a panther, deeper into the alley, her eyes trained on his. William watched, unmoving, as she approached, her predatory gaze unwavering. “You were wonderful, my Spike. You deserve a reward,” she said as she reached down and began to expertly unbuckle his belt.

“I-it’s William, or Will. And…what are you-” his thought was cut off as he felt her small hand surround his quickly growing erection.

“Shh,” said Drusilla as she reached up and licked the outline of his lower lip. “Shy Will. They don’t see your strength. But I do, Spike. I see you.”

William watched as Drusilla slowly slid down the length of his body, dropped to her knees in front of him, and slipped the head of his penis between her ruby red lips.

Buffy turned around, reached out, and poked Spike playfully in the chest, “Only you can make getting a blowjob in an alley sound like a religious experience.”

“I was sixteen, painfully shy, and had never been with a woman. Trust me when I say it was a religious experience. I thought Drusilla was my salvation and I faithfully worshipped at her alter for more than a decade,” said Spike with reverence. “Leaving her was the hardest thing I ever did.”

Buffy started to turn away from him, unable to bear hearing the regret in his voice. But, he would have none of it. He tilted her chin up, searching out her eyes and added, “But it was also the smartest thing I ever did. You see, it started me on this new path.”

“What path is that?” asked Buffy, hesitantly.

“The one that’s led me to you,” replied Spike as he leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the mouth.

Chapter 29

“More wine?” asked Spike as he poured himself a refill.

“Yeah,” replied Buffy, holding out her glass. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a beautiful sunset.”

“It’s probably just the spectacular company,” teased Spike as he leaned over to kiss her. “Getting hungry? Dinner will be ready soon.”

“I’m not in a hurry. I’m really enjoying this,” she said as she pulled the blanket they were wrapped in more tightly around her shoulders. “I wish there were more stars.”

“They’re there, pet. The city lights just make them hard to see. I could take you and Dawn out camping in the desert sometime, we could take a telescope and look at all sorts of stars,” offered Spike.

“Camping,” repeated Buffy. “You mean, like in a tent?”

“That would be the general concept,” said Spike.

“Outside?” asked Buffy.

“Maybe not such a good idea. Hey! We could take the boat out to Catalina sometime. This summer, maybe. There’s bound to be a flotilla that we could hook up with,” he suggested. “Dawn will be out of school, we could make a week of it.”

“Oh my God! I never even thought about her not having school this summer. What am I going to do?” asked Buffy looking suddenly alarmed.

“Why don’t you find out what Rachel does? I heard one of the club members here saying the marina gives sailing lessons, that would be good, if Dawn’s interested. We could do a lot of sailing this summer,” said Spike.

“I don’t even know if she swims,” thought Buffy out loud.

“You stay put,” said Spike as he stood up and gathered up his glass, the blanket, and the wine bottle. “I’m going to go turn on the running lights, now that it’s dark. I’ll come back for you.”

“You don’t have to help me,” declared Buffy. “I can make it back.”

“The decks get slippery at night and you’re not used to it. Indulge me. Besides, I’m the Captain of this ship you surly wench. You will bend to my will,” said Spike lowering his voice seductively, “do as I say.”

He was gone for just a few minutes before the outside lights turned on. It was a few more minutes before he returned. She saw him reach out for her hand in the dim light. She slipped her hand wordlessly into his and allowed him to lead her from the bow, where they had been sitting, back down the side of the boat to the stern. She followed him down the ladder. The only illumination came from the red glow of the power indicator on the crock-pot and the flickering flames from the vanilla-scented candles he had lit in the forward cabin.

Spike reached over and turned the radio off, and then he picked up his wine glass and proceeded to lead Buffy, her hand still in his, back to the bed. The soft sounds of the water as it rhythmically lapped against the hull of the boat drifted through the air. After setting his own glass down, Spike took her glass from her and set it on the nightstand too. He then reached down, gathered up the hem of her sweater and pulled it up over her head. He slowly traced the straps of her bra with his fingertips, and then lowered them. He watched in appreciation as the swell of her breast rose and fell in time with her breaths over the cups of red satin.

He reached down, unsnapped and unzipped her jeans; then looked her in the eye, smiled and said, “Sit.”

“Sit?” asked Buffy.

“On the bed,” he clarified as he pulled her jeans past her hips. “Then lean back.”

Buffy climbed on top of the denim comforter and scooted back so that she could lean on her elbows. She watched as he knelt on the floor and removed her shoes, socks, and pants. Spike slid his hands up the length of her legs massaging her calves, drawing circular patterns with the pads of his thumbs. “You are so beautiful,” he told her.

Buffy’s eyes spontaneously filled with tears, “I can’t believe that you still think so, after all I’ve told you. I can’t believe that you still want me.”

“Believe it,” he said as he hooked his thumbs in the sides of her panties and began to pull them down. “Lift up,” he instructed, and she did, allowing him to slide her matching red panties down over bottom and off. “Did you buy these when I asked you to?” asked Spike twirling the panties around on one finger and smiling down at her mischievously.

“Yes,” she said, already a bit breathless.

The first time they had had sex, in the shower, it had been almost frantic. The few times since then had been something they needed. Seeking out physical comfort. Wanting to feel close. But this was different. There was no rush, no other ears to overhear, it was about giving; it was about loving. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered. “No,” he corrected. “I want to make love with you. Can you do that? Can you make love with me?”

“Kind of thought we-” she started.

“Now, you know that’s not true. Just last night you called what we’ve done fucking,” Buffy winced and began to sit up.

“You were right,” he quickly said as he placed one knee on the edge of the bed and leaned over, coaxing her back into a relaxed position. “Having sex and making love isn’t the same thing. I want to make love with you. I want…” Spike drifted off, suddenly embarrassed.

“What?” asked Buffy, placing her hand over his.

“I want you to feel it, I want to feel it with you,” finished Spike as he reached down and unclasped the front of her bra, baring her breasts to him. He leaned forward and flicked the hardened nipple of one, perfect breast with his tongue. He palmed the other in his hand running his thumb over the peak. As Buffy arched up, into his touch he latched on, suckling first one and then shifting his attention to the other.

“We don’t have to use condoms anymore,” gasped Buffy. “The pill should be working. I want…I want to feel you. I want to feel you come inside of me.”

“And you will,” said Spike as he slid to the floor in front of her and began to coax her knees apart. He felt a bit of resistance. “Patience, kitten. I’m gonna make this so good for you. I want to taste you, Buffy. Will you let me? I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I-I don’t know, Spike,” said Buffy, nervously.

“I’ll never force you to do something you don’t want to do,” he assured her, moving back onto the bed and stretching out alongside her.

“Do you want to…” Buffy drifted off, embarrassed.

“Yes,” said Spike, unabashedly, “very much.” As he looked intently into Buffy’s eyes he moved his hand down to touch her. He separated the folds of her labia with his thumb and index finger and then began to stroke her, coating his fingers in her wet juices. “So wet for me,” he said as he continued to fondle her, bending towards her to steal a kiss, the stroke of his tongue matching the stroke of his hand as he slipped two fingers inside her sopping channel.

“I love your mouth,” she whispered as he pulled back from the kiss.

Spike removed his fingers and smiling down at her slowly brought them, glistening from her fluids, up to his mouth. He drew first one finger in, and then the other, snaking his tongue around them. Although her initial reaction was one of disgust as she watched Spike savor the taste of her juices she felt strangely aroused. “So good, baby,” said Spike as he slid his hand between their bodies, once again searching out her heat. As he slipped his fingers back inside of her he leaned towards her, covering her mouth with his, giving her a languid kiss. “See how good you taste? Can you taste yourself on my tongue, Buffy?”

“Y-yes,” she said, her voice tremulous with need as he slipped a third finger inside of her.

“Tell me what you want,” he asked as his thumb circled her clit and his lips brushed up against the shell of her ear. “I want to bring you pleasure.”

“Y-you do, I mean, you are,” said Buffy feeling suddenly awkward and exposed.

“Honey, I’ve barely started,” said Spike as he began to move down her body, leaving a trail of hot opened mouthed kisses.

When he separated her folds and lapped up the length of her slit with a wide, firm tongue Buffy gasped, her hips jerking upwards slightly. Spike placed his hands on the insides of her thighs, “Open up for me, that’s a girl.” He blew a cool stream of air onto her engorged clit, and then took it into his hot mouth, sucking on it, pulling, tugging, and rolling it between his lips. Then he slipped two of his fingers back in, searching for that one spot.

Buffy moaned as she fisted the comforter that was beneath her in her hands. She pushed up, pressing her mound into his mouth; her back bowed, her neck arched up. “Oh! Oh, God! What? Spike! I-I’m-” moaned Buffy, the combined sensation of his mouth and his fingers overwhelming her. As her juices flooded out, onto his tongue, he eagerly drank them up. He felt it, as her body convulsed in orgasm around him. He removed his mouth and slowed down his thrusts so that he could more fully concentrate on watching her. Her hair was splayed out across the bed; her neck and cheeks were flush with passion, her rosy nipples hardened from arousal, her sex still wet and dripping. He listened to her breathing and grinned.

“Oh, God! That-that was,” gasped Buffy.

“Not over,” interrupted Spike as he quickly shed his clothes.

Buffy, still spent, struggled to lean up onto her elbows, “I’m done! You’ve finished me off! I don’t think I can move.”

“I’ll help you then,” replied Spike as he curled an arm under her waist and pulled her closer still to the edge of the bed. “Hold on,” he said, as he wrapped her legs around his waist. As the head of his penis slipped inside of her they both gasped. “Christ,” moaned Spike. “You feel like heaven.”

“Spike,” whispered Buffy reaching up, wanting to caress his face.

“Don’t move, pet. Give us a second,” asked Spike, grasping her outreached hand and closing his eyes in an attempt to restrain himself.

“Is something wrong?” asked Buffy, apprehensively

“No,” said Spike, softly, placing a gentle kiss on the inside of her wrist. “Everything is right. I just needed a second.” Then he began to move, once again, inside of her. Slow, shallow thrusts, meant to gradually build her fully to arousal.

“You’re teasing me,” complained Buffy.

Spike smirked. “So,” he drawled, “is my girl ready to start telling me what she wants and just how she wants it?”

“Want you,” gasped Buffy.

“What part of me?” asked Spike, continuing to thrust into her slowly.

“I want more, Spike! Please!” begged Buffy.

“More of this?” tested Spike as he thrust slowly into her again, but this time up to the hilt.

“Yes!” she yelled, pulling him in with her legs and holding him close to her.

Spike reached between them and began to palpate her clit, rubbing it as he thrust in and out, each time pushing himself into her a little harder, a little faster. Just as she was about to reach orgasm he broke pace, slowed down, and pulled out. Buffy was writhing on the bed. “Don’t stop!” she cried out. Her legs, which were wrapped securely around his waist, were trembling. He reached around, encouraging her to unwrap them. “Scoot back, luv,” he said as he pulled back the covers of the bed so that she could crawl between the sheets.

As soon as he joined her in the bed Buffy wrapped her hand around his erection and guided him back to her entrance. “I believe this is where you belong, Captain.”

Spike moved so that he was hovered above her, resting on his forearms. He bent down and as he kissed her neck he pushed, once again, inside of her. In and out, he slid, all the while whispering, “Christ you’re so beautiful. So wet…wet for me…so tight, Buffy. God, how I want you!”

“You have me. You have me, baby! I’m right here,” moaned Buffy as she started to feel another orgasm break through.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” demanded Spike.

Her eyes immediately found his, “I love you, Buffy,” he said, before quickly placing his fingers over her mouth. “No, don’t say it back. I know it’s not fair to say it like this. I-I just can’t help it,” he said, on the verge of tears. “I-I can’t hold on any longer,” he gasped as he thrust into her again.

Buffy reached up and removed his fingers from her lips, “Come for me, Spike. I want to feel you come. I want-”

Spike came with a roar as he drove inside of her, shooting his spendings deep within her welcoming body.

His beautifully sculpted back was glistening with sweat. It felt slick underneath her fingers as she gently stroked up and down the length of his spine. He had collapsed on top of her, his arms failing to hold him up any longer. He was nuzzling her neck, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Lack of breathing becoming an issue,” groaned Buffy.

“Oh! Sorry!” said Spike as he rolled off of her, pulling her with him so that she was draped across his chest. “Lord, woman, you’re an inspiration.”

“I’m also messy. I’ll be right back,” she said as she started to sit up.

Spike reached for her and pulled her back into his embrace, “Don’t go.”

“If I don’t get up, there’s going to be a wet spot,” said Buffy, embarrassed.

“Sod it! I’ll sleep in the wet spot. I want to hold you,” he said as he leaned down and kissed her head. “Let’s sleep for a bit, then we can get up and eat…replenish our strength,” he finished with a smile as he rubbed her bottom, “for later.”

“You’re insatiable,” she said as she stilled his hand and rolled over.

Spike spooned up against her, curving himself around her body. He draped his arm over her waist and cupped her breast in the palm of his hand; it’s full weight resting comfortably there. He gave it a slight, possessive squeeze, “Stop whining you thankless wench!” he growled.

Buffy giggled.

Spike yawned. “You’re lucky to have found me and you know it,” he whispered in her ear as he was beginning to drift off.

“Yes, I do,” admitted Buffy. “I love you, Spike.”

“Love you too, baby,” he murmured back before surrendering to sleep, the warm air from his breath heating the back of her neck. “Love you too.”

Chapter 30

January 26, 2004

“Thanks for including me, Red,” said Spike as he lit the grill.

“Buffy sort of insisted,” replied Willow. “I mean…not that I didn’t think it was a good idea, you coming with Buffy. I mean, you and Buffy coming together. I think its good, great even, if it makes Buffy happy.”

“What,” said Spike, with a stoic expression on his face. “Me coming with Buffy? Are we still talking about the dinner invitation?”

“Of course!” insisted Willow as she began to toss hamburgers onto the grill. “What would we be talking about?”

Spike tilted his head to the side and studied the nervous redhead for a few moments before speaking. “I think you brought me out here to have ‘the talk’.”

“What talk?” asked Willow as she closed the lid to the grill and turned to face him.

“The one where you tell me that if I hurt your friend you’re going to bust my balls?” suggested Spike.

“I was thinking more along the lines of skinning you alive,” replied Willow, smiling sweetly, as she patted Spike on the shoulder. “I don’t want to see my friend hurt-”

“Are you asking me what my intentions are?” laughed Spike.

Willow looked at him steadily, her stern gaze cutting off his laughter, “Is that the resolve face I’ve heard so much about?” he asked.

Willow merely nodded.

Spike shook his head and looked down at his feet. He took a few steps away from where he was standing and looked through the doors that led from the deck into Willow and Tara’s kitchen. He could see Tara and Buffy sitting at the kitchen table; Dawn was perched comfortably on Buffy’s lap, a book in her hand. The three of them were roaring with uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh!” laughed Tara. “That’s hilarious! I never get tired of the adventures of Captain Underpants. That David Pilkey is a genius,” she said as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’re a really good reader, Dawn.”

“Thanks!” said Dawn, glowing from the praise. “And, thanks for the book!”

Tara noticed that Buffy was looking outside and she turned to see Spike and Willow in what appeared to be a serious conversation.

“She worries about you,” said Tara, laying her hand on top of Buffy’s.

“I know,” said Buffy as she watched Spike shake his head and look down at his feet.

“You love him?” asked Tara.

“Yeah,” admitted Buffy, “I do.”

“Have you told him?” she asked.

“Are you kidding?” piped up Dawn. “They say it all the time! It’s like someone put some stupid love spell on them! ‘Love you.’ ‘Love you too, Babe.’ ‘Oh, but I love you more than life itself…more than all the stars in the sky…more than…eek!”

Dawn squealed as Buffy began to tickle her, “We do not sound like that!”

“Do to!” insisted Dawn between peals of laughter.

“Do not!” cried out Buffy. “Take it back! We’ve never said anything about the stars in the sky.”

“Maybe not out loud,” said Dawn, coyly.

“What do you mean?” asked Buffy, suspiciously.

“Spike keeps a journal,” said Dawn as she looked down at her new book and pretended to start reading it again.

“You read Spike’s journal? That’s…that’s awful! You shouldn’t do that, Dawn,” scolded Buffy. Then, a moment later she asked, “He said in his journal that he loves me more than life itself…more than all the stars in the sky?”

“Yup!” said Dawn, not looking up. “He writes a lot of poetry about you. There’s this really weird one…about your ass.”

“Dawn!” gasped Buffy.

“What?” she asked, looking up, innocently, “I didn’t write it!”

“You are not to be reading Spike’s journal. What he chooses to write in there is…is private,” sputtered Buffy.

“Nibblet? What are you doing?” asked Spike from the doorway of his bedroom.

Dawn jumped and quickly closed the book she had been reading.

“Quick nap!” she said as she turned and started shuffling through the books on Spike’s nightstand. “I was just looking for something to read.”

Spike walked into his room over to where Dawn was standing. He picked up his journal, sat down on the edge of his bed and sighed, “You were reading my journal, my private thoughts. This wasn’t meant for your eyes, Bit. This isn’t meant for anyone’s eyes. I think you know that.”

Dawn averted his intense gaze, a funny fluttery feeling creeping into her stomach. “I didn’t read much.”

“That’s not the point. If we’re going to live together we need to be able to trust one another,” said Spike.

“You can trust me,” said Dawn, tears starting to form in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re disappointed in me.”

“I’m not disappointed in so much as I’m hurt. You’re a kid; it’s your job to test boundaries. As an adult that cares about you, it’s my job to make sure that you know where the limits are. My journal? Off limits,” explained Spike.

“I care about you too,” said Dawn as she spontaneously wrapped her little arms around his neck, giving him a hug.

“Relax,” said Dawn. “Spike caught me on Tuesday. I already got the big ol’ lecture about personal boundaries and trust. I won’t be snooping again.”

“Spike must have been very angry,” said Tara.

“No,” said Dawn, “worse. He was hurt. But we’re good now. We worked it out.”

Spike looked back over his shoulder at Willow and casually announced, “I’m gonna marry that girl, Red. Spend the rest of my days building a life with her.”

Willow dropped the spatula that she had been holding in her hand. At virtually the same time, she and Spike bent down to retrieve it, only Spike got there first. He stood back up, slowly, and handed the spatula back to Willow.

“You’re serious?” she asked as she accepted the spatula.

“Yes,” answered Spike.

“You love her?” she asked.

“With all my heart,” said Spike. “I can’t promise you it’s going to be perfect. I’ve got loads of faults. And, it’s probably going to take a while, yet, to convince her. But, I love her, Red. There will be rough times, that’s guaranteed, but we’ll work them through.”

“You better, Mister, cause I don’t want to have to have this talk again” said Willow pointing the spatula threateningly at him. “Buffy is head over heels in love with you. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“That makes two of us. You know,” said Spike, looking at her curiously, “you’re a lot tougher than you seem. You can be downright scary. You know that?”

“Really?” asked Willow looking almost proud as she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve kind of, you know, been working on the assertiveness thing. I’m glad we had this little chat, Spike,” she added as she turned around and flipped the burgers.

Chapter 31

June 17, 2014

Spike was sitting in the living room by the fireplace, absorbed in a book, when he heard the front door open. The yellow Labrador at his feet lifted his head, thumped his tail on the floor a few times, and then laid his head back down. Spike removed his glasses as he turned towards the hallway, “Nibblet? Is that you? We weren’t expecting you home this weekend. Everything alright at school?”

Dawn walked into the cozy room and sat down on the brown leather sofa, across from him. “Classes are going fine,” said Dawn obviously distracted as she leaned down to stroke the dogs soft coat.

“What is it?” asked Spike, leaning forward and placing his hand on hers. “Whatever it is…we’ll work it through.”

“Roger asked me to marry him,” said Dawn, quietly, avoiding eye contact. “And, I said yes.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” asked Spike. “Just last week you were saying you were relieved that he’d be graduating and moving on to law school. You said that the extra space would be a welcome reprieve, give you a chance to think about where you wanted the relationship to go.”

“He’s a nice guy. He’ll make a good husband,” said Dawn. “Perfect guys…they don’t exist, Spike! I can’t just hang around forever, waiting for my Prince. What you and Buffy have…it’s what every little girl dreams of! But…only one in like a million ever get that!”

“You’re wrong!” said Spike leaning forward and setting his book aside. “I’m no Prince, Dawn. What Buffy and I have, it’s not perfect, it never has been and it never will be. Our relationship is a constant work in progress and I emphasize the word work. You’re a grown woman now, Dawn, and you’re not asking for my advice-”

“Since when does that stop you?” asked Dawn, wryly.

Spike smiled and leaned back in his chair, “Buffy and I decided a long time ago, long before we even were married, that leaving one another would never be an option. That commitment means something, to both of us, and we re-affirm it every single day. Sometimes, I have to re-affirm it several times a day. Your sister can be awfully stubborn, you know.”

Dawn rolled her eyes, “Don’t I know it.”

“But,” said Spike, “no matter what happens, no matter what curves life may throw our way, that means we work it through. Buffy and I aren’t always on the same page about things. We’re different, in some ways very different. And, what’s important to us as a couple and as individuals has changed over the years. We’ve changed, evolved, together. That requires constant examination, holding on to what’s important to you and wanting, really wanting, the other person to do the same, and compromising when they do.”

“Roger wants a commitment. He doesn’t want to lose me. He says he can’t go off to law school uncertain about our relationship,” said Dawn.

“Forget about Roger for a minute, what about you? Are you certain?” asked Spike.

“What do you mean?” asked Dawn.

“There is one thing I’m sure of beyond all else. Buffy and I were meant to be together. We both had our share of failed relationships before finding one another. Either one of us, or both of us could have settled for something else, for someone else, but we didn’t. There is no one else for me. She’s the one. All I want…is to deserve her and what she’s given me. Can you say the same for Roger?”

“You know you’ve ruined me, don’t you, you and Buffy” said Dawn, balling her fists in frustration. “Providing a healthy, loving, environment to grow up in,” she said as she swept her arm around the room, “giving me expectations, making me believe it’s possible, making me believe I deserve-”

“Roger?” asked Spike.

“I was going to say happiness,” said Dawn, quietly.

“Not the same thing?” asked Buffy as she walked into the room. “What’s going on?”

“Are the kids asleep?” asked Spike.

“Doubtful, they’re waiting for their kiss goodnight from you,” responded Buffy.

“Well, I’ll go say my goodnight to Gracie and Elliott, I’ll leave you two to chat this out,” said Spike as he kissed Dawn on the forehead, winked at Buffy and left the room.

It was an hour before Buffy slipped into their bedroom. He had been waiting, impatiently, for her return.

“You’re still up?” she said as she walked into the closet and began to undress.

“Damned straight! What happened?” asked Spike.

“She’s going to give him back the ring,” said Buffy as she slipped the nightgown over her head.

“Oh! Thank God!” declared Spike. “What did you say to convince her?”

“I have no idea,” admitted Buffy. “I mostly just listened. Then she asked me a question. She asked me why I thought you loved me.”

Spike looked over at her, standing in the doorway to their bathroom, toothbrush in her hand. The sheer fabric of her long silk nightgown was almost translucent, backlit by the glow of the overhead lamp behind her. She reached up and pulled the clip out of her hair and he watched as her sensible up-do cascaded about her bare shoulders.

“What did you tell her?” asked Spike climbing out of bed and walking over to her.

“What did I tell her?” asked Buffy as she turned around to head back into the bathroom and started to bring the toothbrush up to her mouth.

“What did you tell her?” Spike persisted, taking the toothbrush from her hand.

“I told her that I had absolutely no idea, that I was certain I didn’t deserve you, but that by a twist of fate you had come to me and that in each others arms we somehow found happiness. I can’t imagine life without you,” said Buffy as she wrapped her arms around Spike’s neck.

“Even after all these years, you still take my breath away, luv,” said Spike as he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” said Buffy.

“Why do I never tire of hearing that?” teased Spike as he began to rain a trail of kisses down her neck.

“Cause you’re a greedy little boy?” suggested Buffy.

“And, guess what I want?” asked Spike, his voice husky as he swept her up into his arms and carried her over to their bed.

“What do you want?” asked Buffy, breathlessly, stretched out before him.

Spike turned off the light, climbed into bed and then settled himself in the familiar space between his wife’s legs. “Not a bloody thing,” he said as he brought his hand up to her face, outlining the shape of her lips with his fingertips. “I already have everything I want,” he whispered as he lowered his mouth to hers, sweeping her bottom lip with his tongue, begging entrance and once again simply… loving her.



THE END