Of Fact and Fiction

She whimpered, pulling away from him. She pressed herself into the corner as

tightly as humanly possible. She stared up at him, eyes wide, breaths coming

in shallow gasps.

He laughed, the sound low and menacing. He leaned down and grabbed a

thick handful of her silky hair and pulled her up.

A finger traced the curve of her hip under the thin cloth of her loose gown.

She whimpered again.

Hearing the sound, he swiftly backhanded her. Her neck snapping back with

such force, that she gasped in pain.

Her eyes blurred with tears, and prayed.

* * *

"Why don't you just send the brute away my lady?"

Winona disliked having the hulking Highlander around. She brushed Buffy's

hair back, and swept it upwards, fastening it with jewelled pins.

Buffy sighed, and smoothed down the rose pink gown that she wore.

"He's a guest Winona - it wouldn't do to be rude to him."

Winona snorted, "I thoroughly dislike the oaf - and where is Lord William

during the day?"

Buffy tried to hide her grin; it was odd seeing this girl who so closely resembled

Willow asking for Spike. "I'm not sure..."

Winona jabbed a pin in, and Buffy winced in pain. She sighed, "I'm sorry my

lady, but I hear that the Prince of Laron is coming."

Buffy straightened. "A Prince?"

Winona rolled her eyes, "The all-mighty Prince Rhys of Laron - a bigger idiot

you will never meet my lady."

Buffy laughed, "Are there are any men that you like Winona?"

Winona grinned at her, meeting her gaze in the mirror, "Lord William."

She pulled back, eyeing her work critically, "Really my lady, you should wear

this hue more often. It suits you."

Buffy rolled her eyes. She hated pink, but the girl had insisted.

Winona flashed her a grin, "The Prince is coming tomorrow night, and I have

the perfect dress in mind."

Buffy stared at her aghast. "Already?"

* * *

"Pink Slayer? Why do I suddenly think of fluffy bunnies?"

Buffy jumped a little, as she felt his breath tickle her ear. "Bunnies Spike? I

have no intention of scaring Anya."

He laughed, the sound and throaty, his gaze settled on Angus who had just

strode into the hall. "Here comes the lord of poofiness - God good woman

what did you ever see in him anyway? I mean look at the git - he's wearing

a bloody skirt!" He exclaimed, as if noting that small fact for the first time.

Buffy covered her mouth to stifle her giggles, "It's a kilt Spike - and besides,

that is Angus, not Angel."

Spike stared into her eyes, "You see a difference?"

Buffy nodded, "Of course..."

Spike rolled his eyes, "Name one."

Buffy opened her mouth, and then closed it again.

Spike smirked, "Granted he's not wearing the nancy-boy gel, but I sure that if it

existed he would be. He's Scottish - Soul boy was Irish - they both speak funny.

He's a poof, Angel's a poof..."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "And that of course sums up your argument?"

Spike nodded, he turned serious, "Can you tell me that you don't think about

Angel when you look at him?"

Buffy flushed, but was rescued by the very man they were discussing.

"Lady Elizabeth, you are radiant, as beautiful as a rose." He bent to kiss her

hand.

Spike rolled his eyes, mocking him.

Buffy saw this, her eyes narrowing. "William really, at least the Laird is kind

enough to pay a lady a compliment."

A glint came into Spike's blue eyes, he leaned forward to whisper into her

ear. "Beautiful isn't even a word for you, for you are beyond that. I see you,

and my breath leaves my body as I have seen heaven itself."

Buffy shivered, as she felt his lips curve into that grin, "The light adores you,

and with reason, the angels sing of you."

Buffy blushed, as Spike bowed to her and smirked at Angus who could only

glare at him.

Before Buffy could say another word, Spike took her firmly by the elbow and

led her away.

"He's not Angel, Spike."

Spike didn't look down at her, "I know that."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Then what was that back there? A pissing competition?"

Spike didn't detect the agitated note in her voice, and answered blithely, "Yeah,

and he couldn't piss for shit."

Buffy growled and jerked her elbow from his grasp. Spike whirled around

and watched her stalk to Angus' side.

He frowned in confusion, what had he done?

Buffy was seething, and the people wisely moved out of her way. Now more

then ever she wanted to plunge her stake into dead flesh...if that dead flesh

happened to have peroxide blonde hair and piercing blue eyes even better.

She stood next to Angus, gritting her teeth. She would willingly die first before

she walked back to that arrogant jackass.

Spike stared at her, eyes narrowed. He watched as she laughed with the poof.

Seethed as the poof leaned close to whisper in her ear.

Buffy shivered in distaste as his moist breath hissed into her ear, she resisted

the urge to wipe her ear clean. But she forced a smile on her mouth, she would

smile even if her face cracked.

Spike leaned against a pillar, glaring at the pair. This was the first time that he

was able closely observe Buffy with him - alright it really wasn't *him*, but the

resemblance was so marked that it was difficult to remember that he wasn't

the Great Souled Poofter himself.

They looked good together, he complimented her perfectly - her delicate beauty

in stark contrast to his dark features. He towered above her, and for the first

time Spike saw what Buffy saw in Angel. Angel was her protector, she had been

at the point of life, when one longs for a knight in shining armour. The one to

cradle and shelter her.

Caught up in thoughts of the past, Spike was oblivious to the present. He didn't

see the poorly concealed glances Buffy sent his way. She was no longer a girl,

dreaming of heroes ?she wanted an equal.

Determined to draw her attention away from the figure half-concealed in the

shadows, she scanned the crowd. She frowned, and beckoned to Winona.

"Winona, where is my sister?"

Before Winona could respond, a woman stepped forward. Buffy focused her

attention on her, recognising her as the one that had dragged Danica away

that first night.

"The little lady was feeling poorly today Lady Elizabeth."

Buffy nodded, accepting the excuse, but she noted the way the woman wrung

her hands, and the sweat that beaded her forehead. She noted the quick glance

the woman flicked at Angus. She stored the information away in her mind.

Feeling tired, and not wanting to spend another exhausting moment with Angus,

she murmured her excuses. As she prepared to slip from the room, she felt

a light touch on her elbow.

She turned and drowned in icy blue eyes, self-conscious, she stepped back.

Spike watched her gently shake her head before the cool demeanour slipped

back into place.

"What is wrong? What did I do?"

Buffy glared at him, "Can't you figure it out? That decomposing brain of yours

not getting enough blood?"

Spike shook his head, "Luv, how can I ever know what's going on in that

head of yours?"

Buffy took another step back, trying to calm her thoughts, "Spike, don't ever

hand me one of your lines again." She spat the words out, despising herself for

caring so much, and him for being...him!

She whirled on her heel, and in a flurry of rose-tinted skirts was gone.

Spike stared after her, "But I meant every word..."

* * *

"What's happening?"

Tara looked up, she had been completely engrossed in the book, possibilities

and thoughts whirling around her head. She shook her head, focusing on the

present. "Umm - not much..."

Willow sighed, and sat down next to her lover, "I don't know what to do Tara -

and...and...this...thing, with Spike? Dawn shouldn't...you shouldn't..."

Tara laid a reassuring hand on Willow's fidgeting fingers, "I know that I may

not know Spike as well as you and the others do, but maybe it helps me to

see him clearly. Willow, he's changed, and none of you can see that!"

Willow's red head snapped up, "Changed? Tara..." she lowered her voice, "The

sex bot, what about that?"

Tara shook her head, "I know it's gross and all that, but think about it Willow,

what would you do if the only thing you wanted was the one thing you couldn't

have? It offered him comfort..."

Willow closed her eyes, "It was gross Tara."

Tara nodded empathically, "Yes it was, but all I'm saying is that he has changed."

She eyed Willow's tight face, "Would a soulless, evil creature suffer unspeakable

torture in the hands of hell god in order to protect a child?"

Willow couldn't meet Tara's steady gaze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He needed a smoke. He really needed to smoke.

It wasn't the nicotine that had him hooked, that couldn't affect him. It was the cigarette

smoke. Inhaling the swirling grey smoke was what he craved, he could feel the smoke's

progress through useless veins and pipes, to feel it fill his useless lungs. In a strange way,

it had the power to make him feel alive again - to feel something flowing through his body,

the way she did.

He cursed under his breath, why did his thoughts always turn to her?

He knew that it was hopeless; she had said she wanted to give him a chance, but would

that promise hold once they had gotten out of this debacle? Would she turn to her precious

surrogate family and defy them? Or would she crush him?

Spike had feelings that once back in her realm, she would regain her sanity. He was

certain that either she was desperate, or she had become a raving lunatic.

It had happened too fast.

That fact unsettled him.

As he moved stealthily through the shadows, looking for his dinner, he stared up at the sky,

wishing for the Nibblet. Her's had always been the voice of reason in his otherwise chaotic

world. Sure she could have turned to him initially out of rebellion, but it had developed to

more than that, and he would lay down his useless undead life to save the Slayer's sister, just

as he would for the Slayer. The Nibblet invoked in him feelings of protectiveness - something

that he could never feel for Buffy.

* * *

Buffy paced restlessly.

She refused to go outside, she was sure to see him, and that was the last thing that she wanted

to happen. She didn't want to see him - ever.

"Bloody hell!"

She had stubbed her toe, she glared at the throbbing appendage, then her words hit her.

She groaned, great, she was beginning to pick up Spikeisms!

It had hurt her to the quick when he casually admitted to complementing her in order to

get back at Angus, whom he saw as Angel.

She hated how she had reacted to his words, hated the way the blood rushed through her,

anticipation had rushed through her veins, and she had practically melted on the spot.

She grimaced - wonderful imagery - great big puddle of Buffy-ice cream - strawberry

flavoured.

She hated the way that he always managed to elicit the most intense of emotions. If it wasn't

blind hatred, it was utmost passion.

There had never been a middle ground. There never will be.

She saw that fact in his eyes, and within her. If they couldn't be mortal enemies they had to

be....

Buffy growled, once more wishing for evil undead things to vent her fury on.

She simply wanted to go home. At least there she knew where she stood - on the Hellmouth.

* * *

She was here. I can feel her energy pulsing through my veins, that rich strand of ancient power,

coursing through such vulnerable veins.

Why did the Powers choose to bestow such a gift on ones so unworthy?

She was delectable, perhaps this time the Powers had chosen wisely. Could it be that she was

the one that the Powers had searched for an eternity? No matter if she was. That would simply

make the meal that much more tasty...

* * *

Winona brushed her hair, absorbed in her thoughts.

There was something not quite right with the Lady Elizabeth; she seemed more concerned about

Danica. She also brushed away Laird Angus.

So far she had made no mention of what had passed between herself and the Laird.

Winona had seen none of the anxiousness that Elizabeth usually exhibited around the Laird. Lord

William was another matter.

She knew that Lord William and Laird Angus had grown up together; Angus had been fostered

with William. She knew that both men had courted the beautiful Desdemona, but Desdemona

had been madly in love with William. After William and Desdemona had married, Angus rarely

saw his foster brother. Then came the incident with Desdemona. Winona only knew of the rumours,

but with the way that Angus and William treated each other, the rumours were probably true.

Winona didn't want to think of it. Elizabeth and Angus may have had a past, but Winona was

convinced that Elizabeth and William had a future.

* * *

Danica wandered down the hallway. She delighted in escaping her nurse, she detested the nurse.

She was now in search of her sister, who wasn't really her sister.

The first time Danica had seen her, she knew that this wasn't Elizabeth - it was Buffy.

She made her way, looking for Buffy, never thinking about where her real sister could be. All

she knew was that Buffy was with her now, and she liked Buffy.

She saw the light, eagerly following it.

Softly she knocked on the door.

The door opened slowly, cautiously, as if the person opening it was unsure if she wanted to let

anyone in.

Danica peered around the frame, her eyes seeking the large eyes of the one known as Buffy.

Buffy's eyes widened, "Danica!"

Danica smiled, and wondered why Buffy called her 'Dawn' in her mind. She often heard names

from Buffy's mind. Buffy never called William anything but 'Spike' or 'that blasted vampire'.

She called Winona, 'Willow' and that horrible laird, she called 'Angel'. Now that was something

that Danica never understood. Angus reeked of darkness, and yet Buffy called him 'Angel'.

"Buffy..."

Buffy's eyes darkened, as she pulled Danica into her room, "Danica, why are you here?"

"Buffy."

Buffy sighed, "Do you want to stay here with me Dani?"

Danica's smile brightened. Elizabeth called her 'Dani' and now Buffy called her 'Dani'.

Buffy took that as an affirmative, and settled Danica into the bed. Wistfully, Buffy played

with her hair, missing her sister. Often when Buffy was upset, she would run her fingers

through Dawn's hair, letting the silken strands slip from her hands. Lately she had been doing

that often, reassuring herself that her sister was still with her. Buffy didn't know what was

going on in Danica's mind, but she wished that she could, she had a feeling that Danica was

the key that would lead Buffy and Spike home, just as surely as Dawn was The Key.

* * *

"My lady! Wake up! He's here!"

Buffy groaned, one thing she hated about Winona was the fact that she unerringly woke

Buffy in the morning, the way Willow would back in their college days.

"What? Who's here?"

Winona was frantically running around the room. "I told you yesterday Lizzy!"

Buffy blinked, that was the first time Winona had addressed her so informally. The cloud

on her mind still hadn't lifted. Buffy had never been a morning person. "What?"

Exasperated, Winona turned, and yanked the covers off Buffy's sleepy warm body. She gasped

as the cold air slapped her limbs, she reached for the covers, but Winona had dumped them

by the foot of the bed.

Buffy groaned, and curled into a foetal position, burying her head under the pillows.

Winona yanked the pillow off, "Lizzy! The Prince is here!"

Buffy moaned again and glanced up at her entreatingly, "Please..."

Winona strode to the chest, pulling out a gown. "Lizzy, you get up right now, get dressed and

greet the Prince!"

Buffy recognised the steel in her voice, she looked up and saw the determined glint in her eyes.

Sighing, she slowly sat up, and let the whirlwind known on this crazy dimension as 'Winona'

do whatever she wanted with the half asleep Slayer.

* * *

Prince Rhys strode through the doors, looking around in distaste at his surroundings. His eyes

lit up when he saw the vision descend the stairs.

He saw a golden-haired angel, silver mist clinging to her generous figure.

Entranced, he held out his hand to her.

She glided towards him; he ignored the strange look in her eyes, as he waited for her to

acknowledge him properly.

Buffy stared at Riley. She had never seen him dressed like this, and emotions rolled around

in the pit of her stomach. The way Riley had left her, and the events preceding that left her

unsettled, and unsure how to treat this man who looked so much like her ex-boyfriend.

She glanced over his shoulder, and saw Winona frantically signalling to her to...

She dipped into a curtsy, she was sure she looked ridiculous.

Prince Rhys watched as she dipped into a carelessly graceful curtsy, a true child of royal

lineage. He was utterly besotted with her.

He bowed to her, catching her hand in his and pressing his lips on it.

Buffy felt her stomach flip as his green eyes stared up into hers, she wasn't sure if that

was a good thing or not.

* * *

Anya threw the book down in disgust.

Xander ran to her side, "What is it honey?"

They had been unsure of letting Anya read the book, but she had insisted, and Tara had

caved in.

Anya rolled her eyes, "This is stupid Xander!"

"What happened?" Xander couldn't even think - he didn't really know if he wanted to

know what happed, but the not knowing was equally driving him nuts.

Anya sighed, "It's stupid - Buffy is there with an Angel look-alike, that was bad enough,

but now she's got a Riley look-alike on the scene as well! It's as if the author didn't want

her to get together with Spike! That is if there is an author..." she frowned, momentarily

confused, then effortlessly picked up her thread of thought again, "It's so obvious she has

the hots for Spike - I mean she always had right? But now she's all alone with him, why

doesn't she just throw him down and ride him for all she's worth?"

The gang stared at her. Xander, in abject horror, started to splutter with indignation, while

Dawn burst out in delighted laughter.

Anya shook her head, and picked up the book again, muttering something about 'stupid,

moralising blondes...'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was a prancing poof.

Buffy forced yet another smile on her lips, and wondered what she ever saw in Riley Finn.

This time, she let the Spikeism pass with no mental recriminations - for it was the perfect

truth.

He was a simpering idiot.

Ok maybe she was being a little harsh, and technically this wasn't Riley, but the way he was

acting now reminded her of Riley.

The high and mighty Prince Rhys boasted of his prowess and expected her to pat him on

the head. She detested him, and she realised why.

He was boring.

At this very moment, Prince Rhys was boring her out of her mind. It didn't help that Angus

brooded. Heaven help her.

Spike was no where to be seen, and she didn't want to admit that she missed him. She told

herself that it was only because she was being bored to tears by both the Prince and the Laird.

That was the extent of her 'missing' him - she really didn't *miss* him - of course not! Ridiculous.

God she missed him.

* * *

Spike was determined to find a way to get Buffy back home.

He leafed through the books, but most of the mumbo-jumbo was lost on him. He suddenly

wished that he was here with one of the Wiccans - they would know what they were doing.

Right now, they had made no active effort in getting out - Buffy was too busy playing court

he thought bitterly.

He knew that a Prince had visited, Buffy was probably reeling from all the attention that the

two ponces were lavishing on her. Pleasantly reeling of course.

He growled beneath his breath.

Something about this world unsettled him - everything was, not quite right, and he could

barely explain it to himself, much less someone else.

Right now, he was focused on bringing Buffy home.

* * *

"You see, I don't think she should do that."

Dawn, Anya and Tara were huddled in a corner, discussing the possibility of Buffy and Spike,

while the other three pretended to ignore what they were discussing.

Anya rolled her eyes at Tara. "Of course she should do that! Nothing says 'I love you' like

'I wanna hump you!'"

Dawn shook her head, "No! It shouldn't be like that Anya - I mean sure the physical thing

should be there, but it has to go deeper..."

Anya frowned, "I don't understand..."

Tara nodded at Dawn, "Yes of course, it has to be based on something more then simple

lust - lust fades..."

"Lust never fades!" Anya felt sick at the thought.

Dawn and Tara exchanged glances.

Tara sighed, "Anya, lust fades, it won't always be there, and Buffy and Spike deserve more

than just lust."

Anya shook her head, now getting frantic, "I don't understand...."

Dawn took her hands, trying to calm her down, "Listen Anya, would you protect Xander

before all else?"

Anya nodded hesitantly.

"Would you go to the ends of the earth for his sake?"

Again with the hesitant nod.

"Would you defy everything you know to be with him?"

This time Anya's brilliant smile flashed, "I already have."

Dawn nodded solemnly, "And that is love, and that is what Buffy and Spike deserve."

Anya nodded in understanding, glancing at Xander, and smiling gently at him. "Yes -

that is what they deserve."

Xander moaned, and buried his head in a book, as Willow glanced thoughtfully at

Dawn.

* * *

He could taste her fear, it was palpable. It made the blood rush through him in

anticipation.

He savoured the look and feel of her dark hair running through his fingers, images

of past and present melding until he knew no time and no place.

He heard her whimpers, but she refused to beg, and he wanted to hear her beg.

* * *

He wanted her - he would make her the queen that she was meant to be. He refused

to even acknowledge the filthy Highlander, who had left the room in a perfect snit.

As for the Duke - he hasn't made an appearance all night - obviously something else

held his fancy.

She was his for the taking.

He leaned to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. He felt her eagerly strain to be closer

to him.

Buffy flattened herself in her seat, trying to inch away from the amourous Prince.

Rhys and Angus shared something in common - they had the same look in their eyes,

when they looked at her. They looked at her as if she was a piece of chattel.

None of that was ever evident in Spike's eyes...

No, she shouldn't think about that...vampire!

He wasn't even here!

* * *

Spike rubbed a hand over his eyes, exhausted. Badly needing a break, he stood and

wandered out of the library.

He walked, the cramps working themselves out his tired limbs. As he passed an open

door, something caught his eye. He stopped. It had been a long time...but he needed to...

* * *

Buffy wandered, letting her feet do the leading. Her heart felt heavy, and she felt empty, as if

a part of her was missing.

She didn't want to think about that too deeply.

Music evaded her thoughts, creeping in slowly, swirling around her brain. For a moment, Buffy

closed her eyes, letting the music envelop her in a warm embrace. Instinctively, her feet moved

in the direction of the music.

With every step, she became more ensnared by the melody, the heart-wrenching pain behind

every liquid note.

Buffy stopped, as she reached the door of a room. The notes slowed into a lament, then swirled

into a crescendo, as the maker poured his soul into the music he was creating.

She saw a shock of unmistakable hair.

Spike was seated at the piano, fingers dancing over the keys. The music changed again, this time

effortlessly slipping into a soft romantic song, every note was filled with sweetness and longing.

And her heart found what it had been looking for.

Buffy's feet led her to his side. The music softened even more, she watched his fingers caressing

the keys, and her stomach clenched as she imagined those fingers dancing effortlessly

on her body.

"They say..."

She was startled when he started to speak, but she stilled her racing heart, and listened.

"...that love is like playing the piano. First you must learn to play by the rules." He looked up, and

she was caught up in his eyes, his eyes which held her captive just as surely as any steel chains.

"Then you must forget the rules and play from the heart..."

Buffy regarded him, subjecting him to a gaze so intense, that Spike wanted to duck his head to

avoid her scrutiny. But he didn't flinch from her gaze, instead his eyes sought out hers.

Buffy knew that it was now or never, but she felt paralysed.

Spike sensed a change in her - he saw it in her stance, in the unwavering intensity of her gaze.

Slowly, cautiously, he moved towards her, giving her plenty of time to bolt if she wanted to.

Buffy knew exactly what he was up to, she also knew what he wanted, but would never dream

for.

His mouth was mere inches from hers, eyes questioning. Buffy's hands cupped the back of

his neck and pulled him in, kissing him softly at first.

Spike moaned against her mouth. The kiss was almost chaste in it's very gentleness. He heard

a low growl, and was surprised to find that it didn't come from him.

Buffy pulled him in closer, this kiss was different from the two - no three - they've shared.

The first had been one of intense gratitude and acknowledgement. The second, the realisation

of her feelings and desires, the third, a reminder of those feelings. This...this was different.

Their tongues danced to a tune that had been heard since time began, their bodies pressing

eagerly towards each other, almost on the verge of melting into each other.

Buffy climbed onto his lap, his hands encircled her waist, fingers dancing as confidently along

her waist as they did on the piano's keys. Her hands cupped his face, as she rained kisses

on his upturned mouth.

Yes, this was different, it was an acknowledgement and a reassurance, from both of them.

I would never let you go...

Through the fog that was desire, Spike heard a gasp. He opened his eyes and saw him.

With a malicious smile, he let his hands wander up Buffy's body, to bury his hands in her hair,

urgently he tilted her head backwards to deepen the kiss. He saw the flash of hurt in the other

man's eyes before he strode away.

Buffy, oblivious of what had transpired between vampire and man, revelled in the knowledge

that she had found what she had been looking for.

Spike soon forgot the incident. All that mattered was this moment, a dream that had been up

to know unrealised, and he never wanted to wake up.

The night looked on as Slayer and Vampire, lost in each other, forgetting the laws of their

society, throwing themselves in the shades grey, consummated a love that knew no bounds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He devoured her lips, not caring if what he was doing was wrong. He couldn't help himself.

There was something...something different about her - a light in her eyes. Something that he could not

put a finger on.

But he pushed the thought aside as he continued to plunder her lips, taking, claiming something that

was not his to take. He knew that this might not last, but he would take what he could get, he always

have, and he wasn't about to stop.

Buffy pressed herself into his embrace, wanting him so badly she ached. But what she wanted was

deeper then the mere physical bonding, but she could never acknowledge that to herself. This was

wrong and she knew it, the laws defied this.

As she continued to devour him, she thought wryly of her job description, and how inappropriate it

was sometimes.

The weight of him thrilled her, the hard lines of his body pressing into hers. He didn't suffocate her -

not like...the others...and the change was a welcome one.

Their mouths met again in a kiss that was near violent with greed, then went on and on with tongues hotly

tangled, teeth nipping.

She wanted all, then more. Everything, then the impossible.

And knew with him she'd find it.

She moulded herself to him, unwilling to take the passive role now. The rough movements made her head

spin, her breath came out in a moaning laughter. She was free. And alive, so alive. After all this time. In

her rush to feel flesh, she tugged down his pants, nearly ripping the material.

"Oh yes." she whispered when he ripped the sleeve of her blouse. "Hurry."

He couldn't have slowed the pace any more then he could stop time. His quick and clever hands were rough

as they yanked off her bra, stopping to grin with amusement at the fact that she stubbornly insisted on wearing

one beneath her bodice, then filled themselves with her breasts.

When touch wasn't enough, he twisted her under him again and devoured.

She cried out, arching as his lips and teeth and tongue laid siege to her. Her nails dug into his back, scrapped

along the tensed ridge of muscle as shock waves of pleasure swarmed through her body. Sensations slammed

into her in a riotous confusion of glorious aches and dark delights and raw nerves.

"Now. Now. Right now."

But his mouth streaked down her torso. Not yet. Not nearly yet.

He yanked her skirts up, frustrated by the amount of material that was in his way.

"You know...you're pretty in the dress and all...but I would have preferred you in Slayer mode..."

She laughed, the sound throaty, as she assisted him, "Hmm - one quick tug..."

With a cry of triumph, she lay before him, his tongue into the centre of that driving heat. She came

instantly, violently, all but paralysing them both with the glory of it. She sobbed out his name, her fingers

tangling in his hair as release built back to need, and need ground desperately toward demand.

He wanted to savour it, to lick his way up, then down again. He wanted to bury his face in that cascade of

hair until he was deaf and blind.

But the animal inside him clawed frantically for freedom.

They rolled again, wrestling along the floor tormenting each other with nips and gropes.

Vision blurred, lungs burned as another orgasm erupted, raging through her system, spiking it with outrageous

energy. Her breath was a series of short screams burning in her chest, her body unbearably awake to

every touch, every taste.

His face seemed to swim over hers, then came into focus, every feature distinct as if etched with a diamond

on glass. Their breath mingled, her hips arched up and he drove into her.

All movement stopped for one humming and timeless instant. Joined, with him buried deep inside her, they

watched each other. His blue eyes intense. Slowly, in one long stroke, she took her hands down his back,

then gripped his hips.

Together they began to move, the speed building and rising, bodies slick with sweat sliding, pleasure tumbling

over pleasure until it battered the system and overpowered the mind.

All, and then more, she thought dizzily as she climbed toward the zenith. Everything, then the impossible.

She found it as she clamped herself around him and shattered.

* * *

It was the closest to heaven that he had ever, or ever will know, damned creature that he was.

They lay in a tangle of silver and black, her beautiful gown now in tatters.

Spike couldn't believe what had happened, his head was still reeling, all that mattered in this moment

was Buffy - as it always has been, and now he knew with certainty that it will be all that will matter.

He felt a draft dancing along the floorboards, slip under her body, as it did so he watched as she

shivered delicately. For a moment, he thought to envy the breeze that coiled itself around her body,

but then it struck him that his own body had been similarly engaged.

He stood, hastily pulling on trousers, before gently picking her up.

Trustingly, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, and he felt as if he would burst any moment.

Soon, they reached her room, he gently laid her in the bed. He was about to leave, but her hand

caught his wrist, and with her Slayer strength, she hung on.

"Spike..."

His heart leapt into his throat when he heard the whispered entreaty. She had him wrapped around her

little finger, and she didn't even know it - or then again, she probably did.

He slid into bed with her, and was once more stunned, as she turned to press herself into his embrace,

murmuring his name.

Soon, sleep claimed him, but for the first time since his birth, he knew simple happiness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The music was divine, flowing smoothly, emotion laced through every note - just as suddenly

the music stopped.

He could feel the tiny hairs on his nape rise in apprehension. Something wasn't right.

There was a light at the end of the hallway, grimacing, he continued to walk.

The sight that greeted him stunned him, and sickened him.

They were completely entwined in each other, oblivious to his presence. Theirs was a passion

that scorched all else.

He watched, hating himself for watching. He watched as she climbed onto his laps, watched as

his hands possessively cupped her waist.

She was a vision, he had never seen her so beautiful.

She wore a gown of spun silver. It clung to her waist as if it was second skin, then dropped

to graceful folds. On her wrists were silver bracelets, and her fingers flashed of silver as well.

Her golden hair was a riot of gold, as the waves gently caressed her back.

She was lost in her passion.

Then he looked up, something flashed in those eyes glazed over with passion. A taunt. He

splayed his fingers around her waist, and his hands drifted over her form to finally bury themselves

in her hair, taunting him with the one thing that he could never have.

He watched sickened, as he kissed her, the passion between them flaring to dizzying heights.

His jaw tightened, he turned to leave...

Then Angel woke up.

He felt cold, colder then usual. He knew if he was human he would be dripping with sweat by

now. But he wasn't.

The image of Spike and Buffy was engraved in his mind - never to leave.

He knew it was dream - he had been dreaming strange dreams, and this was the latest.

He knew he shouldn't follow his instincts. Did he really want to know what was going on

in Sunnydale? But if his dreams were an echo of reality, he knew he had to go back.

He left Sunnydale and her so she could lead a normal life. Falling in love with another

vampire was not normal.

Why he thought that there was a remote chance that Buffy loved Spike was beyond him.

But he knew he had to go.

* * *

Angus paced the halls restlessly, hands clenching. He didn't know what to think.

Twice in his life, William had gotten what Angus wanted. William didn't need Elizabeth's

dowry, not like Angus.

He kept walking, emersed in murderous thoughts. Then he stopped, his head cocked

to the side. He resumed walking; the steps slow, measured. He stopped before the door.

He pushed it open.

The woman inside stood, he could see the conflicting emotions on her face, but he

merely threw enough gold at her feet to hold her tongue.

The woman glanced at the gold at her feet. Her mother was sick, she rationalised, and

who would care what happened in this room anyway?

Swiftly, before she could change her mind, she scooped the coins up, slipping them

into her skirt, and disappearing out of the door.

Angus watched her sleeping. Her slight chest rising and falling.

In his mind's eye the girl on the bed changed. Her hair darkening further, almost black,

her form filling out, but only slightly.

"Desdemona..."

He reached out and touched her hair, running his fingers through the dark strands. For

a few moments he stroked her hair.

He heard her soft cries of pleasure, as she clung to him, in his mind, the woman on William's

lap switched from being a brunette to a blonde, then back again.

He moaned, one hand clutching his head, the other twisting the silken strands and pulling

the girl up.

She cried out, her eyes widening with panic as she recognised him.

Angus shook his head, his eyes clearing as he regarded the girl, he watched with pleasure

as her eyes darkened with fear.

* * *

I was so tired, but I had found her at last.

I move along the floor, swirling to my full height, yet not taking form, I gaze down at her.

She lay with a creature of darkness, her golden hair, spreading out on the pillow, spilling

over the creature's arm.

I look down amazed, I had known this was coming, but to see proof of it. It stunned me.

There she was, all golden light, while he, all silver and shadows cradled her form to his.

It was sunlight meeting moonlight.

I wanted to smile.

At last, the chance I had been waiting for has arrived.

Slowly, I trace ghost-like fingers along one arm and watched as she shivered.

The power that was hers to command stunned me, and as I touched her, I understood her.

I understood the driving need that made her the best.

This one cared. This one loved.

She was the one - the culmination of all my waiting.

I drew back as she stirred.

I had waited an eternity; I could wait a little longer.

* * *

Buffy stirred, her eyes fluttered open. Shivering, she drew the covers closer to her form. She

sat up, checking to make sure that she had closed the windows.

Spike knew the instant she moved, his senses highly attuned to her. "What is it Buffy-love?"

She shook her head. The windows were closed. "Nothing."

Spike tugged on one lock of hair, "Yeah? Well I'm getting cold over here - you're hogging

all the blankets."

Her lips quirked into a grin, "Spike, you're always cold."

He sat up, cupping her neck he kissed her, tongue exploring her mouth, before drawing

back, blue eyes dancing with merriment. "Not for long."

* * *

Anya had been curiously silent for a long time now - no outbursts about how stupid Buffy

was being, or comments about the poofiness of both Angel and Riley.

That fact made several people...uncomfortable.

Dawn bounded up to her side, "Hey An..."

Anya started, then seeing whom it was, quickly pressed the book to her chest, eyes wide.

"Dawn...hi there...you're underage!"

Dawn blinked in confusion, as did the others, but Xander, who knew Anya very well,

stared at her in disbelief.

Anya smiled brightly at Dawn, not paying attention to the others, "Yes, you're underage."

The firm nod, and the bright smile cinched it.

For the second time, since this fiasco, Xander fainted.

* * *

Spike sat up, hissing in pain as the curtains around Buffy's bed drifted open.

One of Buffy's eyes fluttered open, and watched as Spike blew frantically on his hand.

Unable to help herself, she giggled.

Spike turned to look down at her, one eyebrow raised sardonically. "You would find this

bloody amusing wouldn't you?"

Buffy laughed at the rueful expression on his face.

Spike rolled his eyes,"See, you find the idea of my skin getting all toasty amusing, and you don't

get turned on by the chains and all that? I don't get that!"

Buffy grimaced at the reminder, "Please Spike - the idea of being chained up to wall, by anyone,

with their psychotic girlfriend a measly meter or so in front of me - is not appealing."

Spike eyed her, a glint in his eyes, "So what if we took out the psychotic *ex*-girlfriend out

of the equation - would you be amenable to it?"

Buffy grimaced, "Can we just say no kinky bondage stuff?"

Spike laughed, and grabbed her around the waist. "Easily done."

Then he pulled back to stare into her eyes, "So where does this leave us now luv?"

Buffy squirmed beneath his gaze.

She didn't know where this led them now.

"Do we always have to know where everything is leading?" She tried to avoid his gaze.

Spike felt numb, what was she saying, "Well pet, in this case, I would like a little something.

I begged you for a crumb..." he paused to think. "Alright I got more then a crumb - I got a

whole slice. But Buffy, I want the loaf."

Buffy blinked, amusement dancing in her eyes, "What's with the bread metaphors?"

"Buffy..."

Her name came out in a frustrated growl, and she marvelled at the many different ways he

could say her name.

Spike raked a hand through his hair. "Buffy, I can't keep doing this - I know that deep

inside. This is killing me." he sighed, "You still don't get it do you? You are everything."

Buffy was speechless. She knew that Spike loved her, it had taken her time to figure it

out, but she did. She knew that it was love, and not lust, she knew because she saw it

in his eyes. Those eyes which could never lie to her.

His lips twitched up into a grin, "I love you Buffy, you may not want to hear it, you may

not believe it but I do. Everything about you...I love...I love you more then blood...Baby

no one understands you the way I do."

He bit back the rest of his words, unable to communicate his thoughts, but the sentence

went on in his mind.

Buffy's breath had been caught in her chest as he spoke, his words falling into a soothing

cadence, as his lilting accent stroked the words. Now she slowly expelled her breath,

"I know, I do want to hear it, and I believe it." She shook her head, and placed her finger

on his mouth, "Spike..."

She took a deep breath, she didn't want to rush this, "This isn't sudden, it's not just

the physical..." unconciously she grinned, "Though that part's great."

Spike impulsively grabbed her hand, he started to grin like a simpleton, getting perverse

satisfaction in the thought that she had enjoyed their exertions as much as he did.

Buffy took another deep breath, and held on tightly to his hand, for once not fearing that the

bones beneath her clasp were breaking.

This has been coming for a while but she had refused to see it. Refused to see the love

shining in his eyes that time when he was helping the fallen at the Bronze; the first time

he tried to tell her the at he loved her. The desperation in his eyes, when he was forced to

choose between the woman that he had loved for more then a century, and the woman

who hated his guts, but he loved beyond reason. He had been willing to end the life of

the one thing in this dark world that he truly cared about, for her sake. It would've

wrenched his heart out, would've hurt him beyond words, but had she asked for it, he

would've done it. All to prove his love for her.

She had refused to realise it, she had wasted so much time. In a life that was never destined

to be long, she had just wasted a great portion.

Then it struck her with a force that knocked her breath out of her body - the realisation

that they were alike. She, like him, loved completely, unreservedly - blindly.

"How can I explain?" the relasation, making the attempt to explain more desperate.

Spike shook his head, "You don't have to..."

Again, Buffy hushed him, "I can't put it into words... How can I explain that I..." She stopped,

and shook her head. She sighed, and looked at him pleadingly, "I need time..."

Spike gaped at her, "Bloody hell woman! I've given you time! You can't keep asking

for time! This is verging on the ridiculous!" he thought for a moment, then shook his head,

"Bugger that - it is bloody ridiculous!"

Buffy laughingly held up her hand in protest, "Spike! Would you listen to me?" She shook

her head, and smile gently at him, "I have accepted that I...care about you..."

At that Spike's eyebrow rose, but he knew he shouldn't push it...

"...All I'm saying is that I need time to adjust to the fact that I admit it, and that includes

telling my friends." she cupped his face between her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"I'm scared Spike. I have a history of bad relationships." She held up her hand again to

stop his protests, "I know you are nothing like Angel or Riley. Believe me I know that -

but those experiences..."

Spike nodded, "They've scarred you - I told you that myself Buffy-love."

Buffy nodded, "Then..."

"I understand." His blue eyes glittered with undefinable emotion, "I've always understood

Buffy. I was just waiting for you to realise it." He grinned, "I just wish that whatever this

is will last..."

"What do you mean? Of course it will last!" Was he giving up on them already? The

thought sent chills of panic coursing through her.

Spike laughed. "Hell yes luv - I'll love you even when you're old and toothless."

Buffy grimaced at the thought, "I don't think I'll ever reach that age."

Spike grinned at her, the harsh light of determination lighting up his eyes, "I'll make sure

of it."

Buffy recognised that look, and swiftly stood, pulling the sheets along with her, "Oh no -

I've seen that look before! I am the Slayer Spike! You are not going to 'protect' me or

some such macho crap!"

Spike could see that she had some trouble with this issue before, thinking about the

Great Souled Poofter and Captain Cardboard, he could see why she'd have that problem.

"Hell no Slayer - I wouldn't dream of getting in your way." he grinned at her, the expression

devilishly sensual. "Don't you know that watching you kick-ass turns me on?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Figures."

Spike tried to hide his smile, as he watched her blush furiously. She glanced down at

herself, and tightened her hold on the bed sheets.

He couldn't help himself, sardonic bastard that he was, "Luv, I've seen everything by now -

what's the point?"

Buffy opened her mouth to snap back some retort, but suddenly stiffened.

Watching her, Spike drew up as well.

Buffy's back was lance-straight, eyes wide, and breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Buffy?"

Buffy tried to regain control as her head spun; she clutched the cloth tighter to her shivering

form.

Spike lurched to his knees, grabbing hold of her thin shoulders, "Buffy-love?"

Buffy's body started to shake, her eyes wide and dilated. Her golden head dropped, as did

her shoulders. Spike's hand shook, as worry racked through him. "Buffy? Buffy-love?"

Her head suddenly snapped back, "Spike..."

Before his very eyes, her form was shimmering, and her body slowly becoming translucent.

"Spike?" her voice was a whisper in the air.

"I'm here Buffy - I'm here!" Futilely, he tried to grasp her shoulders harder, but he was left

with air.

"Buffy!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~