Even before he reached his flat, Spike knew something was wrong.

If a century traveling the globe, wrecking havoc wherever he went had taught the bleached blonde one thing, it was to note the change in the air when danger was afoot. The difference in the air was apparent but, despite the hairs on his next standing at attention, Spike didn’t feel as if he were in danger.

He had sensed it before, this change in the atmosphere, when Rachel had left more than a week ago. At first, he had thought it to be nothing more than the ache of losing the one person, aside from Dawn, that had never judged him on his actions. Although the others had changed their opinions about him, Spike was still a bit gun-shy without the dark haired woman by his side. With that said, Dawn had been there for him this whole time. In fact, the two of them had reaffirmed the bond that had been formed the summer that Buffy had died.

Spike smiled wryly as he neared his flat. He had just come from San Diego, having spent two days discussing personal issues with his lawyer and Rachel. Dawn had tagged along, having pleaded with him to take her with him. She and Rachel had gotten along very well, although it had been touch and go for a minute. Evidently Dawn had still had an inkling of doubt as to whether Rachel was still a threat to Buffy and Spike's happiness. Once assured that Rachel wasn't, Dawn had treated the woman like a second sister.

"Buffy." The name tasted like candy as it fell from his lips. Spike's heart sped up at he thought about the last week spent with the love of his life. Though they had only been out once in the past week and a half, they had done something they had never done before in the interim; they had talked on the phone.

The conversation hadn't been earth shattering--not Buffy professing her undying love to him or anything like that. It had been idle, pleasant chitchat, the two of them conversing about things that they had never given the other a chance to talk about. They had shared their favorite times together, their dreams and all their favorite things. It had been so new to Spike at first that he had to muffle the cynic within him that wanted to scream that this was Buffy's way of softening him up before giving him the coup de grace of 'I don’t think we should be together'. The mere thought of that had driven him crazy and it wasn't until he was in San Diego that the full effects of those thoughts took over his mind. That had been when he had muttered something about it to Rachel and Dawn over lunch and, by their looks of incredulity and later reaming of not having the slightest idea about women, his negative feelings had been put at ease. Of course, after dropping Dawn off at home and making his way here, they had reappeared with a vengeance especially when he had seen that Buffy's car was nowhere to be found.

"Get over it, you stupid git," he had told himself. "Slayer's got a life 'o her own. She doesn’t need to be checkin' in wit' you everywhere she goes." Naturally, said pep talk did nothing for his rambling mind. He didn’t let it consume him however and instead thought about the good times he and Buffy had spent together the last month and a half.

In that short time, they had grown to be friends--something they had been well on their way to becoming before the nightly trysts had begun two years ago. Though they could never make up for the lost time, they had done an admirable job trying. No longer were they hiding behind masks of mock-hatred and impolite indifference, but they had openly embraced the chemistry that had always existed between them. Well, maybe not all of it, considering that they had not gone further than a steamy kiss against Buffy's front door--making out hot and heavy in a cemetery notwithstanding, of course. There was something bigger, something more that they had been sharing recently. And though Spike missed the feel of Buffy surrounding him, the taste of her sweat as his tongue bathed her, he would not give up the bond that had been established between them for such carnal pleasures. No way, no how.

"Course," he muttered as he twisted the key in the lock, "it wouldn't 'urt to 'ave a little bit 'o Buffy lovin'." He smiled at the thought before pushing the door open.

*&*

I have always been a brash, cheeky bugger, never one lost for words: discounting my human days as that nancy-boy "William the Bloody-awful Poet", o' course. Words, just like my Big Bad image, were a cover, a smokescreen, if you will, to protect William. Yeah, that's right. As big and bad as I was, as much death as I delivered on innocents for a hundred plus years, as much of a monster as I was, William--soft, sensitive, poet wannabe William--was still the driving force of my emotions. So my scathing words were the only things that prevented that side of me from crumbling to the harsh experiences of a century of destruction.

Of course, there have been a handful of occasions where words failed me and, to no surprise, they all had to do with Buffy. The first time she kissed me after that bad perm hell-bitch, Glory had her way with me. When she walked down those stairs for the first time in a hundred and forty-seven days. And, of course, the first time I entered her in that abandoned building. There was another time where my actions rendered words useless, but that is a time I do not wish to go back to.

The multitude of candles lighting the main room of my flat helps alleviate that as well.

I drop my bag just inside the door and step across the threshold, closing the door in my wake. The mahogany drapes are drawn across the picture window, giving the room a supernatural glow. Soft music plays in the background and it doesn’t take long before I recognize the angelic voice of Sarah McLachlan 'Building A Mystery'.

"Got that right," I whisper to the candlelight as I walk into the room, the scent of jasmine and vanilla teasing my nostrils. I walk towards the television against the opposite wall, maneuvering between the rose petals sprinkling my carpet. Okay, this is just getting weirder and weirder.

"You're late," a familiar voice says and I spin to face the couch. There, laying down, covered by a blanket, is Buffy. I gasp at the stunning beauty before me as she removes the cover and stands before me.

She's wearing a two-piece black dress that clings to her every curve. A more than generous slit up one side gives me more than a passing glance at her shapely leg. Her navel peeks out from under her top, just as the imprint of her nipples is visible through the soft material. Her slender arms, one adorned with a magnificent silver bracelet, hang limply at her sides and her fingers slid against her thighs.

Biting my lip, my eyes focus on her radiant face. Her cheeks are painted with a hint of rouge and her lips shine with the barest trace of lipstick. Her hair is put up in an elaborate bun and several tendrils of her golden tresses brush eloquently against her face. But as beautiful as that is, her eyes are what freezes me, pulling every ounce of love within me to the surface. Her hazel jewels shine like I've never seen before and, for an instant, I am looking at a love strong enough to match my own. Shaking my head lest I be disappointed, I smile at her, hopeful that she cannot hear the jagged palpitations of my heart, before formulating some sort of response.

"Well, luv, if I thought I'd get this type of reception, I'd go away more often." She lowers her head and chuckles lightly before I notice her once stationary hands are now in front of her. I watch as she wrings them together, something that shouts to me how nervous she is. It helps me as well, letting me know that I'm not the only one with a touch of the apprehensive dancing in my stomach.

"I should hope not," she says and takes a few tentative steps towards me, stopping in front of the coffee table that still separates us. She drinks me in with her eyes without any sense of timidity and I can't help but feel a bit uneasy at her naked perusal. I'm just not used to her being so bold, though, in hindsight, our conversations for the past week have started out because of her openness. Like I said, it threw me for a spell but I did get used to it. Don’t know if I'll ever get used to seeing those emeralds of hers staring back at me.

"And why is that, luv?" I can't keep the cynicism in my voice, just a natural defense when people seem too nice. And the way Buffy's actin' now just settin' off my early warning signs.

I bite back the apology when I see the minute flinch of her jaw and, being the soldier she is, Buffy shakes it off.

"Just because," she replies and reaches her hand out to me. I eye the proffered hand greedily, thinking of the strength of those petite fingers as they raked across my flesh. But more than that, the tenderness that which I handled them with after her resurrection. How many times did I want to be gentle with 'er but wasn't allowed? How many times did I want to hold 'er hand while we patrolled--hell, even a firm squeeze to let her know I 'ad her back. But she never let me and I almost gave up on that long ago and now? What do I want? What do I expect? What do I deserve?

All those thoughts and more are lost in the blinding light of Buffy's smile that beckons to me as I look back up at her face. I'm helplessly caught up in the storm that wages behind her and, before I know it, my hand is in hers. She ushers me to the couch, never letting go of my hand and instead keeping it in her lap. Her nails scratch idly at my flesh but I don’t mind-- what with the vibes radiating from her. I don’t know what she wants to say but instinct tells me that whatever it is will change everything.

"So how was your trip?" She asks, her gaze locking with mine and the tingle that was at the back of my neck has crept decidedly lower.

"Uh, yeah, uh my trip." Way to go, William. Bloody terrific. "It was good."

"Did Dawn have fun?"

I smile proudly at the mention of my 'Bit. "Yeah. That girl, I tell ya Buffy. Bit's just like you what with her endless torture of ol' Spike." She frowns not too nicely and I backtrack before I get a slayer reprimand. "In the best sense o' the word, torture." She rolls her eyes, a trademark of annoyed Buffy. I smile inwardly before continuing. "But we had some fun, pet. Took her out shoppin', hit a few clubs and the beach. Not to mention 'er and Rachel teamin' up against me the whole time."

She whistles. "All that in two days. Impressive."

"You're tellin' me. Those two bints bought drove me batty."

"So Rachel's doin' okay?" The temperature of the room drops minutely and the tenseness in Buffy's voice isn't lost on me.

"She's doin' well," I say but remember the look on her face when me and Dawn left a few hours ago. "Or so she says."

"Oh."

"Yeah. She's a lot like you in that way, pet. So strong and yet tries so 'ard not to let others see how she's 'urtin'. But she'll be all right; she'll come through. S'not like I'm all that, right?"

Buffy laughs, a deep, soul-filled laughter that, at first hurts me but before long I'm grinning at the picture of my beauty. God 'elp me. There's not a part of her that I'm not in love with and the desire to kiss her breathless is so strong now that my muscles contract from it. I win the battle and remain still, awaiting for what she has to say.

"You still don’t give yourself credit, do you?" I arch a brow her unexpected statement.

"Not sure I'm followin' you there, pet."

"Of course you don’t," she replies and gives me the patented 'Buffy eye-roll'. Again. But her face softens and she reaches out to me. I close my eyes as the back of her hand strokes my cheek before she cups my jaw, a gesture I lean into and I cover her hand with mine, not wanting to lose this contact. I feel her close the distance between us before she plants a chaste kiss against my lips and I finally look at her as she pulls away.

"Buffy…"

"Do you believe in the luck of numbers?" I give her my 'what the bleedin' hell are you yammering about?' look and she snorts in disgust. "Numerology? Lucky number sevens? Unlucky thirteen? Stuff like that. Do you believe in it?"

I shrug. "To be honest, pet, never gave it much thought. Though Dru was a bit batty for stuff like that."

"What wasn't Dru batty for?" Buffy mutters and I stifle a laugh. Her jealousy towards what Dru and I had's still alive and well, even without one of Red's 'Thy will be done' spells.

"So you don’t believe that certain numbers have divine meaning to them?"

"Can't say that I do, luv. Why? Do you?"

She fidgets in her seat, worrying her bottom lip. Cor, she's beautiful when she's nervous. Hell, she's beautiful anytime of the day, regardless of her mood.

"If you would have asked me that nine days ago, I would have said no. But, since then I…I don’t know. I would have to say that, in certain circumstances, yes."

"So, what brought that change?" I ask, unsure where this is heading.

"Twenty-seven."

"Twenty-seven?" She nods before lowering her head again. To say this is a tad bit weird is an understatement but I'm used to weird, so no freakin' out for me. "Not quite sure I followed you round that last bend, pet. What's twenty-seven?"

"My lucky number."

"Is that so? Okay, so what did it help you get lucky with?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her and feign injury when she slaps me on the shoulder.

"You're a pig, Spike," she says though her tone is devoid of venom but filled with genuine affection.

"Sing me another song, Summers," I say and stick my tongue out between my teeth.

"Anyway, Mr. Oink-Oink, as I was saying, twenty-seven is my lucky number."

"And how did that come to be?" The seriousness of her demeanor is enough to sober up my humor.

"I was brushing my hair. Fifty strokes. I've been doing that for the last year or so. I saw it on an old movie awhile ago. I used to do when I was a kid but stopped when I started the whole gossip stage of teenage-dom. I use that alone time to let my mind relax--especially when I have a lot to think about. It really helps me step back and think about things. Get a better perspective on things, so to speak. Last week was no different.

"On my twenty-seventh stroke, I realized what it was I wanted, what I needed to do. Of course, Rachel helped a bit."

"She told me she went to see you. Tell you goodbye."

"Well, it was less of goodbye and more of a girl bonding thing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We ended up trying our luck in the culinary arts." My eyes widen at the prospects of those two in the kitchen but I like myself enough to keep my comments to myself, thank you very much.

"And how did that go for you?" I ask, unable to keep the hint of amusement from my voice.

"She told me about Jared." It's funny how quickly a single word or phrase can take the air out of the proverbial sails. I remember that story all too well and the grief that strikes me forces my chin down. I don’t want 'er to see the pain that Rachel's words had on me nor the fact that much of what transpired between her and Jared was so similar to the trials of me and my slayer.

"Yeah," she says after noting my sagging shoulders, "my sentiments exactly." We sit there in silence for a few minutes; one of my hands still rests in her lap and she absently strokes it.

"We talked for awhile," Buffy says out of the blue. "Okay, so maybe she did most of the talking and I did the listening but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that she told me, she told me about how she felt about you, why she was leaving."

"Yeah," I say and my fingers touch my lips, remembering that last kiss of ours. She said nothing about it while I was in San Diego. I don’t know how but Rachel didn’t show that she was hurtin'. Not until me and the Bit left, that is.

"She told me that if I hurt you, if I didn’t make up my mind soon enough that if she stayed she wouldn’t be able to say no to you again. Said she couldn't fight her heart forever and she suggested…" She trails off and her eyes roam around the room, looking at anything but me.

I take her hands in mine and squeeze gentle, hoping to gain her attention. Although steal a glance out the corner of her eye, she refuses to look at me head on. Taking the initiative, my fingers find her chin and I gracefully turn her to face me. She doesn’t resist and when our eyes meet, I swear that there is love in them but my attention is whisked away by the tears that I see simmering in her eyes.

"Buffy?"

"She ah, suggested that I shouldn’t either."

"That you shouldn’t what, luv?" I ask though the answer is written in the look that she gives me.

"She suggested that I shouldn’t fight my heart. And you know what? She's right and I won't. Not anymore."

"And…" I try to speak but my voice is beyond hoarse. Emotions that have been building for more than four years bubble to the surface as I look into the woman that had once been my soul when I had none. She is everything to me and the remote possibility that I mean something to her is--it's something that I dare not imagine; not yet at least. I thought that she loved me once and wanted her to admit it. I will never forget the monster I became that night in her bathroom. No, I will not make the same mistake again. I won't 'urt her--nor myself.

"And what is it that your heart wants, Buffy?" I don’t understand why it was so hard to ask--no, wait, I do. This is it, right here, right now. That early warning I had picked up earlier, outside my flat. This is the moment that I knew was coming and now that it's here, I'm terrified of the outcome.

I wait for Buffy's answer but she only smiles at me before standing and walking towards the stereo. She skips ahead a few songs and pauses it before turning back to me.

"Come here," she whispers though her voice carries across the room. I walk across the room, a willing slave to the love I have for this beautiful woman. Again I am marveled at the confidence in her appraisal of me. Though my heart is out of sorts, I plaster the infamous smirk firmly into place and stop only inches in front of her.

She turns around and pushes play before looking up at me. So much is written across her features that I have a hard time concentratin' and, before I know it, her arms are around my neck. She pulls me to her and whispers into my ear.

"Dance with me."

I instinctively settle my hands against her hips and pull her close to me. I never could say 'no' to the woman.

*&*

I almost want to cry when Spike looks at me like that--with so much love and so much hope. I read in his eyes the same thing that I feel--how two people could put each other through so much pain, physical and emotional, and yet still be here, still be on that precipice of establishing something so powerful. It's something that I have no answers for and, to be honest, I don't care, as long as we come back to this. Back to the dance.

Our bodies are also so in sync, whether we are fighting each other or as allies or we're together, making love. I know people, if they saw what we did would take us to task on the making love part but, hey, he loved me and no matter what we said, what we did when we were intimate, it was making love to him. I know that now. God do I know that.

I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins

He was my salvation, my angel that was there for me when my life was hell. I had come from the most indescribably beautiful and serene place known, thrust back into life on a hell mouth. Everything was so cold, so hard and bright, containing not one shred of the peace I felt when I was there, in Heaven. I don’t know how many times I was this close to giving up, to taking a knife across my wrists to end it all: to get back to that one place where I was done, where I had no responsibilities, where I would feel no more pain and suffering.

I had become a shell of myself, a walking husk that felt apathy towards the people I loved the most. It was only in the presence of Spike that I felt. And, to be honest, I had hated him for that. I had hated him for igniting that spark that I had thought was extinguished when I was accepted into Heaven. No matter how short a time I was around him, I felt things stir within me, things I wanted nothing to do with, yet I still was drawn to him. Of course, those feelings intensified to infinite levels when we first became intimate in that abandoned building. God, what I felt was so primal, so brutal and yet, in my soul I knew there was also a tenderness involved that I had never experienced before save for those eternal moments in Heaven. And as much as I wanted not to feel emotion, I still sought him out. The more we were together, the more I needed him. He was like a drug, filling me with some celestial high that gave me that glimpse, that small dose of peace that Heaven had surrounded me with. And even then, despite my hatred for him bringing me back to life when I thought I was the walking dead, I loved him for it.

The few times where I didn’t run off right away and I laid atop of him, exhausted beyond comprehension, I thought of him as my angel. He was a marble masterpiece, smooth yet rough, hard yet soft in flesh. My hands would travel across his bare flesh and, even in the dark, I felt his eyes wander across my skin, he would stare at me as if, by will alone, he could force me to look into his eyes. I told myself for so long that I didn’t want to see the love that would stare out at me because I wanted him as nothing more than a fuck-toy. I know it sounds harsh but that's how I felt. But, if I were to be honest, that was not the reason that I did not look at him. No, it was more frightening that that.

Somewhere in my mind, during those barest of seconds when my walls were down, I knew. I knew that even in the musty crypt, if I looked into those cerulean eyes of his, I would never leave his side. I would become a prisoner to the love he had for me, to the love I was developing for him.

And it terrified me more than anything I have ever faced.

Spike pulled me from the destruction I would have wrought on myself and those around me. Those few times where I let him hold me, Spike was my angel and those few minutes of respite were the only times where I didn’t want to end it. He gave me back my life and I don’t know if I ever truly thanked him for it.

"Thank you," I whisper.

so tired of the straight line

He motions to speak but I silence him with a simple brush of my lips across his. Afterwards, I lay my head against his chest; my ears attune to the staccato rhythm of his heart. I still can't believe he's alive but hasn't he always been? At least to me.

He was a soulless vampire who fought at my side, who always had my back even when I didn’t want him to. He would have had you think that it was because demons were the only things he could hurt but he's a lie. He didn’t need me for that. Hell, let me die and there'd be more demons to fight. No, he was there for me even before I knew he felt anything but hate for me. And even when I patrolled solo, rarely was I alone.

But as much as he was there for me, as much as he loved me, I never believed it. I was thankful for his help but rarely gave him credit. It was easier to insult him with my words, mock his love than to admit that, during that time, he had more love in him than I did. He had been the man and I had been the monster. Spike was the beauty to my beast and I knew it. So what did I do? I made sure he knew that he meant nothing to me, that he was this horrible thing and would never amount to anything.

In short, I lied. But it wasn’t until later that I realized that I was lying to myself more than to him.

Lying to myself made things easier, simpler for a little while. I can't help but laugh at that. Those were the same words that I told him when I broke it off. I told him that it was killing me being with him and I wasn't lying there. What I failed to mention, however, was the important fact that I was wilting on the inside because of my inability to admit that I cared for him. I knew that if I did, he would not relent, he would drag me, kicking and screaming into the harsh light of day, a light that, at that time, I was still not ready to face.

"You weren't killing me, Spike," I say and look up at him. Everything is blurry at first and not until a velvet fingers caresses my face do I realize that I am crying.

"What's wrong, luv?" His voice is so soft, so full of love, that I want nothing more than to bury my face into his chest and cry. I want nothing more than to have him wrap his strong arms around my body and whisper to me how everything will be fine. I want nothing but Spike and the love that he has carried for me for the past four plus years.

"When we broke up, I told you that being with you was killing me. But I lied. It wasn't being with you that was doing it but my own refusal to admit how I really felt for you." The tears come faster as the memories of how I treated him assault my mind.

"Buffy," he says and I can see his eyes clouding over as well. He strokes my cheek with one hand as the other tightens around my waist. "Don’t be sorry. I was bad for you then. You did the right thing, callin' it off like you did. Would dragged you down in tha' darkness had you not.

"I was the one that was wrong, luv. So selfish, I was, trying to pull you down when I saw you were so vulnerable." He lowers his eyes. "I didn’t deserve you then and I don’t deserve you now."

"Bullshit," I whisper fiercely and force him to look me in the eye. He does so hesitantly and he cocks his head in surprise at what he sees in my eyes.

"We were both wrong then, Spike. But as bad as you think you were, I was the real monster. I was the one who used and abused you for my own…I was the one who was the creature of darkness. You had been trying so long to come up into the light and every time you got closer to it, I pushed you back down into the darkness." He closes his eyes and two large tears fall from underneath his elegant lashes. Without even thinking, I pull him to me and catch one on the tip of my tongue. He opens his eyes in surprise and our gazes lock. I never break eye contact as I find the second tear track and run my tongue up along his cheek, stopping right below his eye.

"And as far as not deserving me, Spike, don’t be silly. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be cared for and loved more than anyone I know. You have done so much because you love me. You loved me without a soul and you love me with one. No one else could say that. I'm the one who doesn’t deserve to have someone love me so completely…"

"Buffy," he interrupts but I silence him with a kiss. This kiss, however, is not so innocent. My tongue is the first to break through the barriers of our lips but his soon follows. Our bodies writhe against the other and I am painfully aware of his erection pressing into my stomach. My hands move from around his neck to his back and I run them underneath his shirt, excited by the contours of his back. God, I love his back. And, hey, his ass. But it doesn’t stop there, I love everything about his body, I love everything about his mind, I love everything about his soul. And you know what? I think I always have.

I break the kiss and we both are panting for air. My waistline burns from where his fingernails dug into my flesh but I am too caught up into the cerulean jewels staring down at me to care.

"I love you," I say instinctively and Spike's eyes widen comically before a shadow passes over his face and he looks away.

"Buffy," he says and I hear the bowstring of his heart barely holding together. I know that this is the moment for us. If I was so heartless to take it back, I would destroy this angel of mine, possibly beyond repair. And the way his fingers have reclaimed their territory into my flesh, I know that he is preparing for that potentiality.

"Spike, look at me." He reluctantly tears his gaze from the wall behind me and looks me in the eye. I want to cry for the pain hidden there, pain I caused because I couldn’t admit that a soulless creature could love me.

"I. Love. You." I repeat the words and a sob catches in his throat. His teeth dig into his bottom lip in an effort to stifle the flood of emotion, drawing blood. I pull him towards me and run my tongue across his lower lip, sampling his blood.

"Did you hear what I said? I. Love. You. I've loved you for a long time, William, but I can only admit it now. I know that may make me weak and I know I don’t deserve your love back but if you are willing to give it to me--if you think I deserve your love, Baby, then I will accept it. Who am I to reject something so heaven sent?"

*&*

Buffy moaned as Spike's mouth assaulted hers, his tongue continuously demanding entry past her lips as it danced and fought for dominance with hers. She squealed in surprise when the back of her knees hit the bed and she plopped down on the mattress. Even that couldn't break their kiss, one that had started ten minutes ago in the living room and had finally, after several minutes of fumbling through the halls, made it to the one place they wanted to be more than anything.

Spike pressed down against Buffy, growling when her legs parted to give him access. They both had shed their tops already and the feel of Buffy's pert breasts rubbing against his chest sparked a fire deep within Spike, one that could only be quenched by losing himself deep within her.

"I need you," he gasped as her nails bit into his sides, pulling him fully onto the bed with her. They both shivered when their hips lined up, and his erection that so desperately wanted escape from the prison of his khakis, rubbed against her opening that was covered by the thinnest layer of silk.

"Must have you," the slayer muttered as her tiny hands explored Spike's uncovered skin. She couldn’t remember needing anything this badly and the desire flaming about in her lower half drove her actions. Her hands drifted between them, briefly cupping the bulge of his pants before finding the locks keeping it at bay. She impatiently ripped the front of the pants open, and was pleased when his erection bounced against her hand. Spike tensed slightly at her light caress and Buffy smiled into his lips before she gripped him tightly. He spasmed in her hands, surging forward and the bed shook as his hands fell to either side of her as he fought to keep himself from collapsing.

"Buffy," he groaned. His voice was husky with love and lust. She smiled again and finally broke the kiss. Taking a minute to look into his eyes, she was nearly overwhelmed by the emotion that raged behind his blue eyes. She had never seen them so dark and, at that moment, she knew that she has never been loved so completely by any one person.

"I love you," she said again and shivered at the smile that broke across his face. Despite the situation and his need pulsing in her hand, Spike looked so much like an innocent child as he stared down at her.

"I love you, too, Buffy," he replied as one hand stroked the side of her face tenderly. "You are my ev'rything, luv. Never loved someone so much before. Don’t know what I'd do without you."

Buffy smiled back and brought him down to her, her tongue tracing a line along his jaw line before coming to rest at the tip of his ear. "You'll never have to find that out, baby," she whispered. "You'll never have to find that out," she repeated and bit down gently on his earlobe.

Spike cried out when her blunt teeth snagged his flesh and the bleached blonde's hands could no longer remain stationary. The roamed down to her thighs before traveling up her sides until they came across the peaks of her breasts, squeezing them roughly. The action elicited a needy moan from the slayer and she used her heels to dig into Spike's hips before pushing his pants down with her feet. Through it all, her erection remained in her hands.

It wasn't long before Spike was completely naked and had divested Buffy of the second part of her attire. Now, the only thing that separated them from reconnecting was the simple scrap of silk. Spike took Buffy's hands in his, their fingers intertwining as he laid all his weight against her. They both gasped as he rubbed against her soaken panties.

"You are so wet for me, aren't you luv?" Spike teased as his hips gyrated against her. He chuckled in satisfaction when she could only nod her head in reply. "You want me inside you so bad, want to feel me buried deep within your folds, squeezed by your heat." At every word, Spike got the desired result. Buffy shivered with anticipation and he watched in fascination as she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Her eyes were tightly shut and Spike planted butterfly kisses on each eyelid before he returned to her ear.

"You want me to do everything to you, don’t you?" She couldn’t even nod her head but Spike noticed the change in her breathing and knew that she was close to orgasm even now. "You want me to taste you, to bury my face in that beautiful quim of yours, slayer. You want to feel my tongue lapping at your insides don’t you?"

"Spike…" she said and he frowned. She was able to talk; well, this wouldn't do at all. With a quickness she did not expect, Spike maneuvered her hands together, holding her wrists with one hand while the other slid between her thighs. Without warning, he plunged two fingers deep inside her and Buffy screamed, her legs opening further as he dove deep inside of her.

"That's better, pet. So much better." He continued a slow, steady rhythm while he whispered into her ear. "So, you want my cock deep inside of you, luv? You know it's only for you, don’t you? No one else but you, Buffy." That singular admission was enough to drive the slayer over the edge and Buffy shuddered twice more before she came, his fingers still buried within her.

Both remained still for several seconds and as Buffy tried to temper her breathing. She gasped when his fingers slid out of her folds. She opened her eyes and saw him waving the two fingers in front of her before taking one in his mouth and tasting her juices. Buffy moaned again, her desire for him tripling instantly and she ground her hips against his erection. Spike's fingers fell out of his mouth and he rested his hand on Buffy's chest. Before he knew it, she flipped him over and straddled him.

"Well, well, well," he murmured, trying to keep his cool despite the raging inferno pressed intimately against his groin. "Knew you always liked to be on top, luv."

Buffy only smiled, letting her actions speak. She ground her hips against the length of his erection and received a moan in return. Distracting him with her ministrations, Buffy took the hand that had just been pressed so firmly against her sex and sought out the finger still slick with her juices and slowly inserted it into her mouth.

Spike coughed as Buffy slid his finger in and out of her mouth. She smiled down at him mischievously before putting her fingers to his lips and whispering in his ear.

"You like that, Spike? You like how I taste myself? You want me to tell you how good it is? Or do you want me to tell you how much I love you? How much I need you." Spike held back a choked sob before flipping Buffy onto her back and crushing his lips to hers in a bruising kiss.

When he finally pulled away they were both breathless with need. "I need you inside of me," Buffy cried. She gasped when Spike ripped the tiny silk panties away and his throbbing cock rested delicately between her folds.

"Please, Spike. Please," she begged and Spike shivered when her hands reached between them, taking his member in her hands and rubbing it against her opening. As much as he wanted to tease her, Spike needed to make the connection and, with one powerful thrust, he sheathed himself completely inside of her.

Time stood still for the couple as they both shuddered in pleasure at the union that had been more than two years in the making. Blue eyes stared into hazel, the love passing between the two beyond words, beyond actions, beyond anything but moments like this, when they were joined together in such a way that it was no longer Buffy and Spike. It was one being, sharing thoughts and feelings of the two individuals, wanting nothing more than to remain like this, remain a part of each other forever.

Buffy was the first to break the stillness, pulling Spike forward and bucking her hips slightly to start the friction between them. He got the message and drew himself out slowly before pushing back into her. Buffy's hands cupped the back of Spike's hips, urging him forward, further into her. Each stroke was a bit stronger, a bit deeper and Buffy matched it with her own urgent undulations. No words were spoken as their hips crashed together and hands roamed the slick flesh of the other. Their kisses alternated between sweet and tender, hard and brutal. The only sounds audible were the desperate pants and the slapping of flesh together as both felt that familiar ache deep within their loins intensify with each stroke.

Spike had felt nothing like this before. The heat he had once thought animated his undead flesh now gave his human body a feeling of contentment and need that was far beyond any words he could ever create. He had once thought happiness had been at the side of his dark princess for a hundred years. That had changed when he fell in love for Buffy but even that, even the burning, immortal love he shared for the slayer then was nothing compared to being inside of her when he knew that she loved him just as much as he loved her.

Buffy moaned into Spike, loving the way her body was crushed under his and the sweat built between them. She had never been fond of this part of lovemaking but now it was all she could hope for. The man she loved, wanted to spend the rest of her life with inside of her, his warmth adding to her own as they moved to a rhythm they had perfected years ago.

"Buffy," Spike whispered, as the buildup inside of him was becoming too much to bare. "God, I love you."

Buffy felt Spike expanding inside of her and she knew that he was close. "Come for me Spike," she encouraged and pulled him closer to her. "Fill me up inside with you. I want to feel you warm inside of me." Her words, spoken to drive him over the edge had the same effect on her and Buffy's hips bucked to match the fervor of Spike's thrust.

"Come for me, Spike," she moaned. Spike shivered as he felt his last reservoirs of control break and he roared her name as he spilled his mind, body and soul into her.

On the warmth of Spike's release so intimate within her, Buffy cried out as her second orgasm took over and her walls clamped down on him, milking every ounce of his seed into her.

The two lovers didn’t know how long the residual aftershocks lasted and they didn’t care. As Spike collapsed on top of Buffy, he breathed in the jasmine and vanilla scent of her body, a scent that now held traces of the passions of their lovemaking. After a concerted effort and protesting groans from Buffy, Spike slipped out of his slayer and rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms. They stayed that way for several minutes, stroking each other's backs in silence.

"Can you say wow," Buffy said, breaking the silence.

"'Wow'?" Spike repeated in mock-disappointment. "You give me the earth-shattering shag of a lifetime and all you can say is 'wow'?"

Buffy smacked him in the shoulder and her lip jutted out in a pout. "So my vocabulary isn't up to par right now. And where do you come of with the 'shag' thing?"

Spike smiled at his slayer though she read the seriousness of his eyes. "Buffy, I love you. Anytime we are together, no matter what we do, no matter how soft or tender, no matter how bruising or passionate, it will always be making love with you. Do you understand?" Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

"The thing is that as great as things were between us before, well at least the shagging bit, that is, nothing could compare to what we just shared tonight."

"I know," Buffy replied as her fingertips slid through his hair.

"And I'm glad that I waited."

"Me too."

Spike smiled before ducking his head bashfully. "That’s not what I meant about waiting, luv. I meant…I meant that I, er, well, that's to say you--"

"That I'm what?"

"That you--you're my first."

"I seriously doubt that," she said, "considering how you and I got it on six ways from Sunday before. Not to mention Druzilla and Harmony." Spike stifled a chuckle at how Buffy spat out the last two names disdainfully.

"Not what I'm talking bout, luv. Vampire then, remember, so…" he trailed off. Buffy furrowed her eyebrows at him before it dawned on her.

"I was--I was your first? But what about…?"

"I wasn't what one would call the ladies' man back then, luv. Didn’t get much action at all. Well, didn’t get any action, if you wanna be honest."

"So I'm the first…"

"And only, luv. You're the first and only."

"How do you know that?" She asked. The words were spoken so low that Spike had to strain to hear them.

Spike pulled Buffy closer to him and planted a kiss on her forehead. "You and I both know, Buffy, that I'm your slave. As long as you have me, I'm not goin' anywhere. You just have to decide how long it is you want to have me." He lowered his head. Despite the conviction of her love confession, there was still that bit of doubt that refused to be beaten back.

Buffy knew what Spike was doing. She knew the insecurities that he still harbored throughout the years and that they would always be there is some way or another. But she knew that, whatever it took to remove them from his mind, she would do it. And now was a perfect opportunity to convince Spike that she was going nowhere.

"How does forever sound?" She answered and drew him into a passionate kiss. When they separated, the smile on Spike's face so genuine that she knew he understood her promise to him.

"Forever's a long time, luv," he said, smirking. "Sure you wanna put up with me for that long?"

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," she replied and proceeded to show him just what forever would consist of.

*&*

I lay here in my lover's arms, watching him sleep. He is so beautiful like this, his defenses down, face filled with love. He is everything that I have wanted and I was so close to losing him because I couldn’t accept his nature. How wrong I was. This night showed me that, despite him not having a demon inside of him anymore, Spike is no different than before. True there is more to him than before but his love has remained the same. It's just as blinding, just as overwhelming as before and I know there will be times where I will be frightened at the intensity of it all but I will never turn my back because of it. Spike is here for me, he will help me through it all and I refuse to be the one to mess it up this time.

"I love you," I whisper to him and my heart swells as he smiles in his sleep. This man right here means so much to me, he was my soul when I didn’t want one and my anchor when I wanted nothing more than to drown in my apathy. He would do anything for me and, as I lay here studying his sleeping form, I realize there is nothing I wouldn’t do for him.

It seems like forever since me and Angel were together. I had thought that he was the one for me, my soul mate. And though a part of me will always love him, I understand now that, what I felt then was a first love; uncontrollable in its burning flame yet it burned out nonetheless. He will always have a special place in my heart as my first love but so, too, I wager that Drusilla will always be a part of Spike's heart.

Riley, though I cared for him, never had my heart. He loved me but I think that, deep down, I knew I could never love him. He was what Angel wanted me to have; a guy with whom I could have a normal life with but I couldn’t, I didn’t.

Garrett was the closest to being all that I wanted. Not only could I have that normal life, I didn’t have to worry about the abnormalities that came with being a slayer and how he'd react to it. It was so hard to tell him what I decided last week. I told him first because I thought I owed him that much and, as hurt as he was, he encouraged me to follow my heart. To never give up and to accept the love I thought I didn’t deserve. How right he was.

I don’t think I deserve the love that Spike has given me. I don’t feel I am worthy of the sacrifices he made for me but like I told him, who am I to argue? If he thinks I am good enough for his love, I have no right to deny that. I accept the love he has given me and will cherish it for the rest of my days on earth and my continued existence in the afterlife.

"Sorry, baby," I whisper to him, "you're stuck with me now." It feels so good when he tightens his embrace and I get lost in the warmth of his body. We wasted so much time, fighting and not being honest with each other. I don’t plan on wasting anymore. I vow to live everyday with my Spike--my William-- as a lifetime. Life is too short to be wasted and, thankfully, I was given a second chance to make things right. I don’t know whether it was God or someone else that made sure I got that chance, but I thank Him nonetheless.

There is so much I want to tell Spike, so many things I want him to know though I don't know where to begin. Ten thousand words wouldn’t be enough to scratch the surface of how I feel about him. I only hope that he can look into my eyes and see the love that I cannot hope to express for him. I can only hope that he sees that I am his and his alone.

"I love you, Spike, and I will always be here for you."

"Till the end of the world," he mutters in his sleep and I smile, kissing him chastely on the lips.

"A lot longer than that, baby. A lot longer than that." With that said, I allow myself to drift back into the world of dreams. I've finally found what it is that I've been looking for and I'll be damned if I let it go now. I've found love, life and passion in this man's arms. But most importantly, I've found eternity.

And nothing can ever take that away from me.

The End.

Epilogue to follow.

As I stare at the boxes lining the room that was the sanctuary for my rather unique journey from childhood to adulthood, I can't help but sigh at the memories that bombard me. There has been so many, not so much in this room as in this house. 1630 Revello Drive. It had once been a home to three beautiful women. Now, as I move on from this place, only one of the original three remains.

I want to stay, really I do, but I know that it is my time to move on, my time to start my own life away from here. I had once, not too many months ago, wanted to leave the Hell Mouth, despite it being closed. It was the principle of it all. But now, although I want to start anew, with my husband to be and the child that is growing inside of me, I know that Sunnydale is the only place for me.

I smile at the thought of my knight, of the man I thought I'd never have. He was there for me through it all, despite my less than loving attitude towards him, he never left. Okay, well, he did, at one time, but he came back and, in the end that's all that matters, isn't it?

I play with the two-carat diamond that rests on my finger. I've never been one for jewelry but the instant he held it up in front of me, asking me to be his wife, well, I knew I'd never take it off. I cried when he asked me, from joy and sadness. I loved him so much--still do, of course--that I had been pondering whether to ask him myself. The fact that he finally did had been like a weight was lifted off my chest (yeah, I know, it's cliché). But I felt so much sadness, as if I didn’t deserve him. Of course, my sister almost bopped me on the head for that, saying that who was I to question his love. After all, he was the one who gave me his love and if he thought I deserved it, who was I to argue? Of course her rant didn’t take root in my heart until a few days of her berating me in a nice, sisterly way. After a few days of her stubbornly refusing to drop the subject, I finally accepted that she was right. Damn her.

I'm kidding. I remember one thing she had told me, about being the last Scoobie to find happiness and she was right. It had taken nearly four years but Xander and Anya had finally worked things out. They had been dating for two years and everything had been touch and go with the pair, especially when Anya had come clean to him about her one time tryst with Giles right after Willow had tried to destroy the world. Needless to say he had been hurt and had seriously considered breaking up with her. It wasn’t until Spike shook some sense into him--quite literally--that Xander had relented and mended the rift between he and Anya. Still, it wasn't until last year and the final fight over the hell mouth that he finally proposed. I don’t think any of us will forget him getting down on one knee, his body covered in blood and slime, asking Anya to be his wife. She bowled him over once the words fell from her lips and we all shed a tear for them, happy that the battle was finally over and two of our best friends had finally discovered happiness. Now, the two of them are living in San Francisco--Xander is the partner of one of the biggest construction companies in the state and Anya--well, she's still a vengeance demon but only part time and no longer does she maim and kill. She's found other--creative--ways to assist scorned women. The other part of the time she's playing the stock game and doing rather well. She has ambitions to open her own store sometime in the near future. Those plans will have to be put on hold, however, since yesterday they called us to announce the addition that will be added to their family in eight months. It was a surprise to everyone that she and Xander could procreate, what with her being a demon and all. Luckily, this time around, Xander had fallen for every part of her. In fact, during the wedding ceremony, he had insisted that their final wedding kiss was done with her vein-y face at the forefront--his way of showing her that he loved all of her without reserve. He has stayed true to his word and I know that their child will grow up knowing so much love.

Speaking of children, Willow and Kennedy are doing great. Okay, I know Kennedy is twenty-one now but she had been only seventeen when she and Willow started dating. Of course our red head Wicca didn’t know that until a few months later but once we found out, we teased her mercilessly for being a cradle robber. She had been bothered by it at first but in the end she realized that this was a special case. Kennedy was a Potential Slayer after all although we didn’t find that out until a month or so before that final battle. She fought so hard by our sides and had been seriously injured in one of the fights leading up to the final fight. After the hell mouth had been closed, Willow didn’t leave her side for the month that Kennedy was in the hospital. She had been in and out of consciousness the whole time but finally recovered from her injuries. She still has migraines sometimes that only Willow can soothe but other than that, they are happily living across town--Willow doubling as a computer teacher at Sunnydale High and a freelance computer tech to several Sunnydale businesses. Kennedy just graduated this past summer with a degree in Physical Therapy. She wants to open her own massage therapy office and, with a bit of suave advice from Anya, I know she will get it done.

They are so happy together and have discussed adopting a child. Kennedy even suggested that, if they get an infant, to name the girl Tara. Willow had been so touched by Kennedy's thoughtfulness that I had been worried for a moment that we were going to see a little too much 'cuddling'. I know Willow still misses Tara, we all do, but when Kennedy had said that, Willow fell even more in love with the younger woman.

Giles moved back to England a few weeks after the hell mouth closed and we all had, more or less, accepted his decision. A few months ago, he called, saying that he had a surprise for us and that he would be in the states by November. He won't divulge the nature of this surprise--well, that's not true. Spike and I are the only ones that know and each time the others say something about Giles, we trade those conspiratorial winks of old, satisfied that we share something the others don’t.

Yep, the Watcher man is getting hitched. It seems that, after several years of estrangement, he and Olivia have come back together and this time they aren't letting anything get between them. Although I've never met Olivia, I have chatted with her on the phone and I can say that she is definitely the person for Giles.

Speaking of G-men, my thoughts turn to Garrett as I descend the steps. I talked to him the other day. He moved to LA about a year ago, the manage a S&L chain there. He's doing okay, considering that, not six months ago, he found out what happened to Cynthia. She wasn't killed--no, it was worse than that. She was turned by a vamp 'cartel' that had migrated from San Francisco and had had the intelligence to stay away from Angel and his team. After finding out about Cynthia, however, Garrett and Angel had teamed up and eliminated said 'cartel'. That had been a little over four months ago and since then he and Angel have become friends. Gare even hinted that he has his eye on one of AI's newest associates; a woman named Meryl. Just the way he talks about her shows that he's really into the girl. Here's to hoping he gets the happiness he couldn’t find in Sunnydale.

As far as people not in Sunnydale, Rachel's supposed to be stopping by for a visit next weekend. She still runs the Blue Song in San Diego and has been dating this guy she used to know awhile ago. They've been dating for the past month and he's coming along with her to meet the family. Spike, who has remained close to her through everything, wants to meet "the wanker that broke my 'Night's heart". I haven't gotten the whole scoop but from what I gathered, Rachel and this Jared guy used to be an item in college. I wonder if they were star-crossed lovers like Spike and…

My lips curve into a smile as I marvel at the scene before me. Lying on the couch, wrapped in a lover's embrace, are the two people I love more than anything: my heroes. Spike has his back against the armrest with one leg dangling off to the side and leaning up against him is Buffy. His arms protectively hold her in place and his hands rest atop Buffy's on her very pregnant stomach. The sun cascades off their platinum wedding bands, an eternal symbol of a love that no one except for a gangly, naïve teen that I used to be, believed that they could find happiness. Of course, that was after I got over my crush on Spike. Well, actually, that's not true since, even with Payton in my life, I will always have that crush on Spike.

Before I met Payton, I was so envious of Buffy and Spike's relationship. I think it was because I was lonely, the only one not to have a significant other in her life. Despite that, I still loved how the three of us--when they weren't boinking each other's brains out--were a family. We did so much together, still do, in fact. I know it sounds childish but I couldn’t bear the thought of being away from them; that's the reason I went to UC Sunnydale, to stay close to them. Granted, that allowed me to meet Payton but, even if I hadn't, I would never regret my decision to remain close to my sister and brother-in-law.

I walk further into the room and sit on the coffee table in front of them. They remain still and I smile at the heavenly peace that adorns Spike's face. I am so happy for him, finally getting the woman of his dreams. A tear comes to my eye as I think of the hardships they have been through in the last year or so. A few months before the apocalypse, things had started to get a little tense between the two of them and no one knew what it was. I couldn’t get either of them to speak about it and it wasn’t until after Spike lay dying on the battlefield that we all found out just what it was.

They had been joined at the hip after Buffy had decided that she wanted him and, for two years they lived a life of bliss, never living together but rarely sleeping without the other. But when Spike had proposed, Buffy freaked and she started to withdraw from him. It wasn't anything big, at least nothing anyone else picked up--well, save for Spike. I don’t even think Buffy knew she was doing it. She was so terrified of making that final commitment to Spike, the fear of her past failures filling her mind even though she knew that Spike would never leave her. Knowing that, however, didn’t alleviate her fears. Not until he looked to be dying in her arms did Buffy promise that she'd marry him and once her words reached him, Spike had opened his eyes and gave her that cocky grin of his and said "Bout time you came 'round to seeing things my way." We all laughed at that and it wasn’t a minute later that Xander proposed to Anya.

Since then, they have been inseparable to the nth degree. Spike moved in about a week after that and they were married three months later. Things are going so well for them. Buffy's moved on from Sunnydale S&L and is now the manager of the Old Navy in town as well as the majority owner of the Magic Box. The latter had been a wedding present to her from Giles and Anya and Buffy had seen to it, well, with my help of course, that the Magic Box was more successful than ever.

Spike is running the Blue Song he had built a few years back. It's not called the Blue Song, though as he went with the more poetic name Soul Savior. It's a tribute to Buffy, whom Spike calls the salvation of his soul. Yeah, it might sound cheesy to some but I don’t care; it's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

"What's with the tears, Niblet?" Spike asks and I stifle a scream at his unexpected query. I wipe my eyes roughly before giving him my patented 'it was nothing' smile.

"And don’t say nothing," he whispers and Buffy squirms in his arms before she settles down again. "Did that wanker of a fiancé say something?"

"No, Spike," I say and let out a chuckle. Ever my champion. Spike really does like Payton but, from their first meeting, he had laid down the line for my sweetie, telling him that should he ever hurt me, he would have to answer to the Big Bad. When he left me that one time for about a week, after coming back, Payton was terrified that Spike was going to go William the Bloody on him. But when he had approached Spike without me in tow, he had gained the former vampire's respect even more.

"Then what is it?"

"It's nothing bad," I say and get on my knees in front of the couch. I study my sister's beautiful face and stroke her cheek lightly. "It's just that everything is so good, so perfect."

"Seems unreal, doesn’t it?" He says and I nod.

"I feel like I'm going to wake up and be back in that fifteen year old body, running from Glory or going through that summer again." I don’t have to say what summer I'm talking about. Even now, Spike flinches at every mention of that dark time when Buffy was dead.

"You think I don’t sometimes fear the same thing?" He whispers and his voice is thick with emotion. "You don’t think I fear the day that this'll all be gone? I have two of the most beautiful women in the world sitting with me right now, I'm a productive member of society and I'm married to the love of my existence--not to mention that in two short months from now I'll have a son and daughter to raise…"

"Son and daughter?" I ask and can't keep the surprise out of my voice.

Spike looks at me and beams. "Yep." He motions to the envelope at the end of the table. "Got those today. A little girl and little boy."

"Spike," I whisper and kiss him softly on the forehead. "I'm so happy for you guys."

"Thanks, Nibs. Means a lot to me. And big sis, too."

"So, do you have any names yet?"

"William Rupert and Joyce Anne," Buffy's voice chimes in. We both glance down at her as she tries to blink the sleepiness from her eyes.

"Hey, luv," Spike murmurs and kisses her on the top of her head. Buffy reaches back and rubs the back of Spike's neck.

"Hey, Dawnie." She smiles at me and I plant a kiss on her cheek.

"How you feelin'?" I ask.

"Fine. Great actually," she says. "Well, if you discount that I can't fit into any of my clothes, my feet ache constantly, my back feels as if I was beaten by a gang of Fyarls and the fact that the good old doctor of mine suggested that me and my beautiful husband not partake in any extra-curricular activities. Other than that, I'm just peachy."

"On the side of keen," I chuckle.

"That's me," she beams and we giggle like two schoolgirls.

"You'll be all right, Buffy. It's no big. It'll be over before you know it."

"She's right, luv. Everything'll be right as rain." We both stare at him incredulously and Spike ducks his head. "Ignore me, please."

"We will," Buffy says and then turns back to me. "You just wait and see when you're in my shoes, Dawnie. Then come talk to me."

I bite my lip, wanting to tell them about the news but I am afraid of what they might say. I know I'll be married in less than three months but telling Buffy I'm pregnant is a bit on the scary side. And that's not even mentioning what Spike will say or do. Still, I owe them that much, don’t I?

"So," I say, studying the pattern on the carpet intently, "I can come whine to you about all of the above in about six months?"

"Well, unless you're six months, I really don’t think you have…" Buffy stops as she realizes what I'm hinting at. "Oh my God," she whispers and her eyes fill with tears. For a minute I fee like crap, knowing how disappointed she must be in me and my face must show it because, before I know it, her arms are around me.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I'm so sorry. We were careful but it just…"

"What are you sorry for?" She asks as her face is shining even more brightly.

"I thought--I thought you were disappointed in me," I confess, "for getting pregnant and not being married."

"Dawnie," she says and takes my face in both her hands, "I'm not disappointed in you. You're not fifteen anymore, sweetie. You're a grown woman whose in love with a terrific guy and is about to be married in three months." She glances down at my still flat stomach. "And your love has created something special, something words cannot even begin to describe. You're starting your own life with your own family and that makes me prouder than anything. How could I ever be disappointed in that?"

"She's right, Nibs," Spike says and I glance over Buffy's shoulder and see that he, too, has tears in his eyes. "We're so proud o' you. All of us. And your Mum would be, too."

"Mom is proud," Buffy corrects. "She's proud of both of us, of what we've done with our lives. I can feel her watching us, her little babies, all grown up."

I clutch Buffy tighter at her words and we both cry at the sadness of not having our Mom here to see us, to see how far we've come. But most of our tears are shed because of where we are headed. We have been through so much and yet here we are, happier than ever, about to start families of our own. It's more than a dream come true. It's like Mom sent down a slice of heaven for us to enjoy until it is our time to be with her.

"No matter how old you are, though," Spike says as he envelops us in his arms, "you will always be my Niblet." The conviction at which he says those words makes me cry even harder and I hold onto both of them as if they are my anchors to this world. To be honest, they have been for the past five years. I can't imagine life without Buffy and Spike and I won't have to. Me and Payton are moving in to a house two streets over, something I have yet to share with these two.

Despite the tears, I smile to myself at our little family powwow. If you would have asked me three years ago if me, Buffy and Spike would be huddled in the living room, crying at the joys this life had given us I would have called you crazy. But now, I can only thank God for the love we share. It is stronger than anything we have ever faced and has been the one thing that has always been there. We may have had times where we hurt each other but the love we felt guided us through the darkness.

Buffy told me once that the First Slayer told her that her strength was love. She told Buffy to do three things. Love. Give. Forgive. And she was so right. That is what this life is about. It is about loving those close to you and giving them your all. It's about forgiving their transgressions as they would forgive you of yours.

In the end, it's not about power. It's about the heart's strength to do those three things. I understand that loving, giving and forgiving is what we are in this world to do. It is only then, realizing that, that we can make this world the place it was meant to be and I know that none of us will give up on that dream of changing the world we live in to become a better place.

It is what we owe to ourselves; to our family and to those we protect. It is about making sacrifices without a second thought and being okay with no one knowing what you gave up to save their world. It is about doing what's right, regardless of what others may reason. But most of all, it is what we owe to our children.

And that in itself, is reason enough.