It was the sound of the back door opening that dragged Buffy back from her semi conscious state. She lifted her head from Spike’s chest, where she’d been listening to his heart not beat. She sometimes wondered if she’d ever get used to that.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Buffy called back towards the house. She sat up, pulling Spike to a sitting position.

“Hey! I was-”

Buffy cut him off. “What exactly?” She sounded amused. “Laying around, reveling in the afterglow?”

“Well, yeah, Same’s you.” He cocked his head to the side and smiled.

Her stomach flipped and she swallowed... When he gave her that sexy smile, she could almost forget that he was a vampire. In fact, she decided, if she ever fell in love with him-her stomach flipped again at the mere thought-it might very well be that devastating smile that tipped her over the edge.

Buffy had to force her mind back to the situation at hand. All her clothes below the waist had been cheerfully shredded by her very enthusiastic lover. Her shirt lay in a heap a few feet away. Risking a glance at Spike, she noticed that he was hardly better off. His black shirt hung in tatters, and the buttons had all been ripped from his black jeans. As for the duster, well…Buffy figured that since the two of them had been lying on it for some time, it had probably had seen better days.

“Get up,” he said. She did so, and he picked up the leather coat, shaking it out. “Here,” he ordered, holding it out to her.

Buffy simply stared at him, dumbly, thinking of all the times she had fought him while he wore that coat, thinking about the original Slayer to whom it had belonged. She took it from him, and slid her arms into it, feeling wrapped up in his very essence. Her hand stole along the soft leather. “Thanks,” she told him finally.

He snorted. “Don’t go getting all attached now, Slayer. It’s just a loan, mind. I’ll be taking that back in a little while.” He peeled off the remnants of his shirt and tied it around his waist, covering up the fact that his pants were sadly lacking some buttons. “There. All presentable, love.”

“Come on.” She picked up her shirt and stuffed it into the deep pocket as they walked to the house.

“I’m coming with you?” He sounded…perplexed.

Buffy looked annoyed. “Look. Don’t get weird on me now, Spike. I told Dawn this afternoon, and-”

“You told the Bit?” Amazement was clearly evident in his voice.

She closed the distance between them. “Was I not supposed to?” she asked acidly. “They know. And you better get used to the idea of people knowing since I’ll be telling Xander and Anya next. Now, come on. I’m not going in there by myself.” And she stalked across the yard.

Spike stared after her for a long moment. She’d done it. She’d really gone and done it. Told her best friend and only family. That had to mean something. He strode quickly after her. Buffy was waiting for him by the door. He opened it for her, and followed her inside.

He gently shut the door behind him while Buffy craned her neck, listening for Dawn and Willow.

“Here’s a question, love. If Nibblet and the Wicca know about us, why are we sneaking around, still?” He leaned back against the door and gave her a penetrating look.

Buffy glared. “Hello? Half naked here.” She gestured at her ripped pants. “Really not wanting to make a first impression as a couple this way. She sighed and added, “Let’s go upstairs and find some clothes that aren’t shredded.” She took his hand and tugged him to the steps.

They heard the water running in the bathroom as they passed it on the way to Buffy’s room. She heard a tinny sound coming from Willow’s -Mom’s- room. Probably listening to a tape of her class, Buffy figured. Willow must have the volume on her walkman turned up pretty high though, if Buffy could hear it all the way out here.

Once in her room, she motioned Spike to come in, closing the door after him. Spike sat down on the bed and bounced experimentally. Buffy went to her closet and riffled though her clothes for something he could wear.

“Hmm,” she turned to look at him. “This ought to do,” she announced, yanking a long sleeved black silk shirt from its hanger. She tossed it at him. Then she stood next to the bed and shucked off the duster. She laid it on the bed and kicked off her shoes.

Spike had slipped into the shirt. “The buttons are on the wrong side,” he informed her.

Buffy shook her head. “It’s a woman’s shirt, Spike. They’re supposed to be on that side.”

“Well, it’s bloody awkward trying to do them up this way, Slayer.” Fumbling a little he did most of the buttons, leaving his neck and throat exposed. His eyes drifted over her legs as she peeled off the remains of her pants. Naked from the waist down, and shirt floating around her she looked-“Delicious.”

Her head shot around in surprise. She took in his admiring gaze, the heat from his eyes. “I could say the same about you,” she said slowly. And it was true. The black silk brought out both the incredible blue of his eyes and the whiteness of his skin. His hair was mussed from their previous exertions and his lips were curved into a gentle smile, showing his dimples.

He held the smile, saying, “You better finish getting dressed, Slayer, or you won’t be wearing anything in a moment. And it wouldn’t do to have Little Sis find us.”

Buffy couldn’t look away from him. She swung a leg over his thighs, perching herself on his lap. She took his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. His hands were everywhere, turning ordinary skin into the most sensitive of erogenous zones. “Spike,” she murmured. His mouth slid along her neck, sucking gently at the skin, drawing the blood just under the surface. She moaned at the sensation.

He lifted his face from her neck and tangled his fingers in her hair. Squeezed her rump with the other hand. “Best get dressed now, Buffy,” and he sounded strained.

I did that, Buffy thought. Without even trying. It was heady, the feelings he elicited from her. Her heart was beating faster than it should, she knew. About time, part of her thought. She had been numb for so long…This sudden excess of emotion and sensation made her really understand that she had been walking around nearly catatonic for months.

Until Spike.

Now, it felt like a thousand watt bulb went off in her body every time he came near. A commotion that began with her heart and moved from there to all systems.

Yes. It began with her heart. Buffy could no longer that her heart was involved. She felt it as soon as she laid eyes on him-the clenching in her chest. When they argued, the twisting made her feel like her air had cut off. The very air felt different when she was close to him…like it felt right before a summer storm. Thick…tense…electric…

Perhaps emotion had become air to her, not unlike the way she breathed water in her dreams.

She shook her head, disbelieving. “What you do to me,” she whispered, holding his cheeks cradled against her palm. “It scares me to death. But at the same time…I feel like…” She tore her eyes away from his face and stared at the far wall of her room. Something hitched within her. “Like there’s this empty space in me when I’m not with you,” she whispered through a constricted throat. “And I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it has to, it always does.” She laughed harshly, but there was nothing of humor in it. “Every time, I’ve ever had something good…it gets twisted.”

“Buffy…”

Buffy gathered her courage. “Even my life got so twisted…Jesus Christ, I can’t even die without it getting screwed up!”

Spike flinched. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, it’s true. You know it is. This…with you,” she gestured wildly at him “…is one of the few things in this world…” Her mouth worked but no sound emerged.

“Tell me,” he encouraged her. “Let it out, Buffy.” Finally, he thought, she’s dealing instead of punching. Trying to somehow find her way through the mire and be human enough to feel again.

Biting her lip, she slid off his lap. She went over to the window and stared out into the moonless night. “You heard me singing before, right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed warily. “What of it?”

“Before you came …I hear the music in my mind, from that night, you know? When I sing the songs…when you’re not there to sing your part I feel…” She swallowed. “Like I’m stuck between one breath and the next. Like my whole being has paused…resting between beats.” She turned, meeting his eyes.

“When you came to me…sang your part…everything in me that was tense, just wanted to relax, to melt.” Her lips trembled. “I could breathe again.”

Spike went to her. He stood behind her and gently gathered her hair, moving it away from her neck. “And…?” The word was barely a whisper. His lips brushed her skin. “Is that so bad?” His hands slid along her shoulders, down her arms. He wrapped his arms around her waist and he felt her lean back against his chest.

“I’m afraid that one of these mornings I’ll wake up and…maybe you’ll be gone.” She turned in his arms…faced him. “What would I do, then?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Buffy. If you believe anything, you can believe that. Hell, you’ve been trying for years to get me to leave town, and I’m still here.” He smiled then, crinkling his eyes and giving her the dimples. “And you barely tolerated me, then. D’you really think I’d walk after I finally got the chance to touch you…” He lowered his head, until his lips were a fraction away from hers. “Finally got to taste you…know you…I don’t think so.” Spike’s blue eyes were serious as he continued, “All the angels in heaven couldn’t tear me from you…”

Buffy had fixed her eyes on his mouth. Time was, when those lips had smiled at her, the only purpose was to inflict cruelty, to torment… How could it be possible, she wondered, that this man… no, this vampire could love her…could in fact love at all? Does it really matter why, she asked herself in the space between breaths. Some things simply are…He shouldn’t love me, and I…I shouldn’t…

“But I do,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his. He blinked, and Buffy realized that she hadn’t made any sense to him. “I do love you,” she clarified then held her breath.

Spike blinked again, and stared down at her, saying nothing. Finally, he managed, “You do? When did that happen?” He looked cautious, as if he was afraid that she was about to recant. Like he was steeling himself for rejection.

Buffy smiled a little. “I don’t know exactly…I just…I know that I do…”

His brows lowered and he searched for words. His face was nearly naked in vulnerability.

“How…?”

She shushed him with a gentle finger against his lips. She let her thumb brush his beautiful lower lip, savoring the sensation. “Look,” she began quietly. “After I …died…I know you were…broken. And after I got back…” She had to look away for a moment. “You were the only person I wanted to be with. That feeling kept getting stronger and stronger until…” Since I’m only dead to you, I’m saying stay away, and let me rest in peace…let me take my love and bury it…till you do, I’m telling you- stop visiting my grave…it hurts me more than you’ve ever guessed…but I can see you’re unimpressed, so leave me be…

“Until what, love?”

“Until you sang to me in your crypt. It…hurt me when you told me to stay away from you. You…weren’t supposed to be able to hurt me.” That curious clenching in her chest again. Was it this hard for everybody to confess pain, or was it just her?

He snorted.

“And that night, in the house behind the Magic Box…you were right. What you said.”

Now his brow furrowed. “I said a lot of things that night, love. Care to fill in the blanks a bit?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You asked me if I was afraid you were going to…hurt me, I mean.” She said soberly, “You were right. I was…I am.”

“Are you even real?” His voice was harsh, gravelly. “My luck, I’m bloody dreaming this entire conversation, and I’ll wake up any second…and you’ll be gone.” He pressed his lips together. One hand stole out, tangled in her hair at her nape. His fingers flexed, cupping her neck, pulling her closer.

She smiled at him, a real smile that reached her eyes as well as her mouth. Spike had never seen that particular look directed at him before… “Buffy…Buffy, I love you so much…”

Her smile widened, then, and she tugged at his head, kissing him, until all he could feel was her lips and tongue and body against his. The world spun crazily on its axis, and all he could do was wrap himself around this one girl, the last girl he should be with, really…His hands were everywhere, snaking up under her shirt, in her hair, pressing and touching every inch of skin he could reach…

A sharp rap sounded at Buffy’s bedroom door and Spike growled, he couldn’t help it. Buffy was staring at his face, and he realized that his visage had slipped into ridge and fang mode. He motioned with his head, like he was about to shake the gameface off, but she halted him with a look.

“Who is it?” She called through the door, without budging a fraction.

“Buffy?” Dawn’s voice floated in. “You’re back?”

The Slayer’s eyes never left Spike’s yellow ones. “Yeah, Dawnie. I’m back. We’ll be down in a few minutes, if you want to watch TV with me and Spike.” Her expression turned apologetic. As much as she wanted to keep doing what they had been doing-again!- she needed to spend some quality time with her sister.

They both heard the squeal from the teenager. “Hey Spike! I didn’t know you came by. I’ll go put some popcorn on, kay?” Then they heard Dawn thunder down the steps.

Buffy turned her attention back to Spike. He hadn’t changed back yet, and she peered at him almost critically. “I don’t know. You don’t look that much different.” At his shocked expression, she added, “What? You just…look like you, that’s all. Not like I haven’t seen you vamp out before, you know.” She grinned. “Randy.”

“Now, that’s bloody below the belt, Slayer,” he grumped. “No cause to be insulting…” His forehead smoothed out and his eyes faded into blue.

She shook her head and headed to her armoire to find a pair of sweats to watch TV in. She watched Spike watch her as she dressed. When she was ready, she took his hand, and said, “Come on. We have to do battle with a bin of Jiffy pop.”

But he tugged on her hand, instead. She turned back to him, expectantly. “Tell me again,” he said. “So I know I’m not dreaming.”

Buffy didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She stepped closer, pressing her hip against his pelvis. She leaned up and whispered it in his ear, “Even though it’s crazy…I do love you.” She paused, then kissed his lips softly. “Dawn’s waiting. Let’s go, Spike.”

Dawn looked up from her place on the couch. She saw Spike following Buffy down the stairs, and grinned. She nodded at the coffee table where she had set up a salt shaker and a saucer of melted butter. Her good arm cradled a Blockbuster popcorn tub-filled to the brim with popcorn. “Everything’s ready,” she said hopefully. “And, guess what? Interview with the Vampire is on HBO.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Ha. Can’t believe they thought Tom Cruise would be good in that crapfest.”

Yeah,” Buffy agreed. “The only reason worth watching this movie is Brad Pi-um…to make fun of it.” She’d registered the hot look Spike aimed at her.

“So…is this like, your first date, guys?” Dawn salted the popcorn liberally then dumped the butter in.

Spike choked. “Not exactly.”

“I am so not going there, Dawnie.” Buffy shook her head in mock disgust, and headed to the kitchen for drinks. She didn’t have any blood, so Spike was going to have to make due with a couple of Xander’s leftover beers. She peered critically into the fridge.

Condiments. Mustard, ketchup, two different kinds of mayo. Oh, wait, behind the empty milk carton there was a package of Oscar Meyer bologna. Yuck. Who…? Oh. Dawn. Hiding beside the mystery meat was a six pack of cans. Buffy made a disgusted sound and snatched the empty container and tossed it in the trash. She turned back to the fridge and pulled two cans of beer from their plastic loops.

“Dawn, you want something to drink?” She waited a beat then added, “And your choices are limited to the non-beer liquids, so that means water or water.” Buffy cocked her head, listening for the smart remark.

“Gee, guess I’m having the nonalcoholic water. Yay.” The disdain was evident in her voice.

Buffy rolled her eyes, and closed the fridge door.

“Hey, love.”

Surprised, her head shot up. A pleased grin spread over her face. “Hey.”

He stood in the threshold to the kitchen with one thumb hooked through a belt loop. “Need any help?” His gaze slid appreciatively down her body. “S’good to be of service, y’know.”

Buffy handed him one of the beers. Leaning forward, she pressed her cheek against his. Her eyelids drifted shut and she inhaled. Gods, he smells good. Her free hand drifted up to his nape. She curled her fingers into his skin, drawing him down.

She took his mouth, running her tongue over his, melting into the kiss. This must be what crack is like, she thought crazily. Cause I couldn’t stop if I wanted to… When he touched her…when he kissed her…the world just fell away, and there was only this. His lips…his tongue stroking against hers, and oh, his hands…

The curling pleasure deep in the pit of her stomach spiraled and spread. Her hands vibrated with the powerful desire flaring between them. She sucked at his lower lip, and he growled.

She loved that sound. It made her feel…sexy. It made her feel very much like a woman. It made her want him. Hell, who was she kidding? He only had to exist for her to want him. She’d already proven that. Buffy ground her hips against his pelvis, needing them to be closer.

But Spike lifted his mouth from hers and said softly, “Love.”

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. She stared into his clear blue ones, speechless for a moment. Had she really denied for over a year that he even loved her? She blinked. More evidence of her insanity. “Movie,” she croaked finally. “Dawn. Bonding. Check.” With regret, she ran her thumb over that sexy bottom lip. “C’mon.” She grinned. “Sexy vampires ahead, after all.”

He snorted. Following her into the living room, he said sotto voce, “More like behind you, if you ask me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Small round kernels scritched in the big bowl as Buffy carried it to the kitchen. She left it in the sink filled with soapy water. She went back to the living room and her expression softened as she looked down at her sleeping sister’s face. Buffy wished she slept that peacefully.

“I can carry her up, if you like,” Spike said from behind her.

The scent of cigarettes clung to him, and Buffy was glad that he’d taken his smoke outside the house. It made her throat hurt when she was around it too much. “You don’t mind?” she asked.

“Nope.” He kneeled next to the sofa and slid his arms underneath Dawn’s shoulders and knees. He disappeared upstairs with her.

A quick rap sounded at the front door and Buffy jumped. It was nearly eleven, and she definitely wasn’t expecting anyone. She peeked through the curtains and groaned.

Opening the door, she said, “Hey, Xander. What’s up?” She made sure to infuse her voice with exhaustion. Maybe he’d take a hint…

“Thought you might need some help patrolling. How about it?” He asked the question easily enough, but he couldn’t meet Buffy’s eyes.

“Um…actually, I was gonna skip tonight. I’ve been watching movies with Dawn.” And Spike, she added silently. “Matter of fact, I was just on my way to-” She broke off. Spike was coming down the stairs. Oh, spiffy. This is what I get for not telling Xander sooner.

Xander’s grin faded. “What’s he doing here?”

Spike narrowed his eyes, waiting to hear how Buffy intended to handle this.

“We were hanging out.” She said shortly. “He wanted to see about patrolling,” she informed Spike.

“That right? Been a long time since you bothered to make the effort. What’s wrong…have a fight with the wife?”

“We’re not married yet, evil dead,” Xander retorted. “Also? None of your damned business.”

Spike had a point though, Buffy admitted to herself. When was the last time Xander, or any of the other scoobies, had gone patrolling with her? Jesus. Not since before…before she’d died.

Xander continued, “So…what, Spike? You just come over to inflict your presence on Buffy now? Why don’t you crawl back under the dirt from which you came?”

“Enough!” Buffy snapped. She glared at Xander. “This is my house, and when Spike is here you will be civil to him.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “And you know what, Xander? After everything Spike did last summer, you could be a little nicer.”

Xander’s jaw dropped. “Buffy,” he began.

“No,” she cried, “Don’t even. I don’t want to hear it.” She took a deep breath and smiled a little. “And speaking of things you won’t want to hear…”

“Um,” Spike interrupted, “This may not be the best time, love…”

“It’s exactly the perfect time, Spike.” To Xander, she said, “I’m dating Spike. Get mad, or whatever you have to feel. Then get over it. Because he makes me happy. And I haven’t been happy since before I crawled out of my own grave.”

He gaped at her. “You can’t be serious.”

The Slayer’s face became cold. “Why can’t I be serious? Because you don’t approve? I didn’t realize that Xander Harris was the Master of my Destiny. How foolish of me to forget.”

“Buffy, look. I don’t know what’s been happening in your head. But you can’t love a…a monster like that!” He pointed at Spike, who had sat down on the steps. “He doesn’t have a-”

“O-kay. Here’s where you say ‘and he doesn’t have a soul so he can’t love you, or anyone else, and he killed all sorts of people’.” Buffy put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, getting in Xander’s face. “You’re right. Spike doesn’t have a soul. As we currently define it, I suppose that’s true. But he’s been doing good things. And he kept doing good things, even after I was dead and buried and there was nobody to impress.” She snorted. “Yeah, Xander, I know all about what Spike was up to last summer. He was playing cards with my sister, and protecting her from every demon that popped through town looking for Glory’s sloppy seconds- and another shot at The Key. He helped you guys patrol almost every other night, and for what? Thanks? A little respect? Companionship? I don’t think so, because it’s not like he got any of those things from you, did he?”

“I think, what really pisses you off, Xander, is the simple fact that he’s a vampire. Well, fuck you. I can’t help who I love. And considering that your fiancée has never expressed a bit of regret for all the men she tortured for a thousand years…” She smiled with no humor. “Pot. Kettle. Black.”

Confused, Xander shook his head. “Um…I know you’re mad and everything, but did you just say that you love Spike?” his voice cracked a little on the last word.

She glanced over at the vampire who regarded her with an inscrutable look. “I did, yeah.” Her words were soft, but no less forceful. Spike simply stared at her. Later, she would tell him how shocked he looked at that particular moment.

Xander heaved a great sigh, looking down at his feet. “I dunno what to say, Buff.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I know…I know I came off like an ass but, see, the thing is…” He met her eyes. “I’m just so worried about you.”

“I know,” she said. “But it’s my life. And I want to be with him. When I’m with him, I feel…”

“What?”

“Warm. Alive.” She met Xander’s eyes squarely. “Makes me feel something other than dead. In short, when I’m with Spike…” Her gaze locked with Spike’s, and she stepped around Xander to stand directly in front of her lover. “I feel like me.”

The vampire rose fluidly to his feet, and drew his knuckles gently down her cheek. Without moving his eyes from Buffy, he said, “I don’t deserve her. I know that. But. I love her more than my own pathetic existence. There isn’t anything I won’t do for her. And she…and she…makes me forget…” He swallowed, unable to continue.

Xander pressed his lips together and looked at the ceiling. “What?” he barked.

The dimples flashed. “Makes me forget that I’m…what I am. Never expected that.”

“Look,” Buffy touched Xander’s arm. “I know you’re worried. But everything’s really okay. For the first time in my life…I’m not worried.”

“I know, Buffy. If being with him…makes you happy, then be happy. You deserve that much. I’m gonna….” He jerked his thumb at the door. “See you later.” He gave Spike a hard look, opened the door, then slipped out into the moonless night.

~~~~~~~~~~

Spike wrapped his arms around the Slayer’s back. “That went well, I thought.” He buried his face in her neck, reveling in her scent. She interlocked her fingers behind the small of his back.

“Better than expected, right?” All of the sudden she felt exhausted, and yawned abruptly. “God, I’m tired.”

He grunted. “All the extra exercise you been getting, I bet.” He tightened his arms. “I didn’t think you would, you know.”

“What do you mean?” She lifted her head off his shoulder.

He tilted his head. “Well. I’m still getting used to…” He shrugged helplessly. “No more sneaking around. It’s a little weird to think that I can just,” he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. “Give you a little snog any time. Everyone knows.”

Buffy frowned. “Almost everyone. I didn’t tell Giles, but since he’s half a world away I feel pretty much okay about it.”

“Mmm. It’s late love. I better be off.”

Before he could move, she grabbed his shoulders and sprang up, winding her legs around his hips. She ran her tongue down his ear and he shuddered in response. Her pelvis ground into his. His muscles flexed under her hands. Spike caught her mouth and kissed her thoroughly.

By the time she came up for air, she realized that another huge chunk of time had somehow passed. Checking out the cable clock, she saw that it was after midnight.

A slightly hysterical giggle rose in her throat. I’m sorry, Mom, I don’t know where the time went. I swear I was at the mall the whole time…

Buffy froze, remembering that her mother was dead.

Instantly, Spike released her. “What is it? What’s wrong, love?”

Her feet hit the floor and she steadied herself. She smiled wanly. “Nothing…I just…Sometimes I miss Mom.”

The blond vampire merely regarded her steadily. He asked no questions.

“I know it’s been almost a year. But sometimes…” Sometimes it hits me so sharp and fresh I feel like someone sliced a straight razor across my heart. And then suddenly all I want to do is cry and never stop…She shook her head. “I can’t really explain it.” Which was a lie. She could explain-- very well, as a matter of fact, except she couldn’t do it without breaking down and that was not happening.

“Night, then, Slayer.” He added soberly, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” At her confused look he gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s Shakespeare.”

“I know,” she answered. “I went to high school, you know.”

But he was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

She stripped off all her clothes and lay down in bed. She’d been tossing and turning so much since…anyway, she didn’t like waking up feeling strangled.

The cool sheets warmed quickly, and her breathing evened out. Between one thought and the next, she fell…

~~~~~~~~~~

She drifted in the black. At first she was not even aware that she was…after a time, she remembered that she was Buffy. She had no body. There was only the sensation that there was something to do, something that she’d forgotten.

Gradually, she became able to see, although that was not exactly what she was doing. There was no word for what she was doing. And there was nothing to see. Except…

Color. Glorious, striking color, all around her. It was the air…it was sound…it was physical. In this world, color…was life. It had…taste, as well as sound and sensation.

The yellows were smooth clear notes…soprano, buttery, lemony and faintly banana. Blue was crisp and sweet, mellow and smoky. Red…red was the sound of a clarinet, pealing with a clarity that did not exist in the other world. Red was swirling pleasure…heat, with the faintest taste of pepper.

Abruptly she breathed…and remembered. Her eyes cracked open, and she wept.