-Thirteenth-

By Annie

2003-09-25

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Buffy looked up when Spike entered the kitchen; as he came up and stopped by her she asked:

"How is she?"

"She's... a bit shook up," he answered, then addressed the whole assembly as he added: "Angel says we might as well turn in. He'll have the pictures developed in the morning."

The others nodded to that, beginning to clean up after themselves as they kept the conversation low. The sound of cutlery and silverware being put into the dishwasher was the only other sound as Buffy glanced at Spike. He looked so weary that she grew hesitant whether she should approach the subject of what Susannah had had to disclose, or if she would do best at letting it lie. Finally she merely said:

"I guess we should postpone our... talk. It feels a little bit weird, with everything else going on, you know?"

Only he looked at her as though, no, he didn't know at all and she felt the slight need to bite her tongue off, though she suppressed it and merely smiled a little tryingly. He returned it, as tentatively as hers formed, and then he nodded.

"You're right," he stated. "When Susannah's better..."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed quietly.

"Not that she's... I mean, she's rattled - but she's not..." he practically mumbled before he shook his head and met her gaze again. "But you're right."

Buffy observed him for a few seconds and then her smile broadened slightly.

"Well, good night, then," she said and he struggled not to let his eyes grow too longing as she started passed him, heading for the door. She glanced over her shoulder at him as she reached the doorway and then paused as she couldn't resist adding: "It truly was a lovely dance."

"The whole event?" he stopped her and her smile grew even further as he finished: "Or ours?"

Her eyes told him all the answer he could ever want on the subject before she disappeared from view and he felt the need to catch his breath. Leaning back against the counter behind him he smiled to himself.

She still had the power to make his knees weak with one long glance.

Good to know.

***

For two hours Buffy had been trying to fall asleep. Actually she had been struggling to fall asleep. Fighting a battle against the all too clear thoughts of him and of his eyes and lips and touch... Of how he proved that something so close could still be so far away. She could almost feel him with her, next to her... and yet those short moments leading to his door seemed infinitely distant and out of the question.

She turned herself over on her back for the thousandth time and opened her eyes in growing fury with herself, glaring up into the darkness and the shadow which was the ceiling and wishing that the color of night wasn't blue. That it wasn't such a strong reminder of times shared with him.

Just as she decided to shut her eyes again a soft noise outside her door made them open once more and she felt a searing want to sit up and yell at whoever - or whatever - was outside to stop being such a thoughtless dumb- ass skulking around in the middle of the night making her even more wide awake than she already was.

She didn't, though she did sit up and her Slayer side took over as her eyes caught the shape of the doorknob, and it began to slowly turn. She slid soundlessly off the bed and sneaked up to the door, taking a silent breath she then reached out, grabbed the knob and twisted it with a flick of her wrist before yanking the door open.

"Jesus!" Spike exclaimed. "What the bleeding hell are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?!" he added and she stared at him wide-eyed before she started to laugh.

"You should've..." she finally breathed between fits as she took a step backward and held one hand to her side. "You should've... seen... your face!"

He gave her a look and when her merriness still refused to retract he grumbled:

"Stop it," though the corners of his mouth were beginning to curl as well.

"I'm sorry," she collected herself, squaring her shoulders as she met his gaze; her own still sparkling with humor and his smile grew at the sight of it. "I'm not used to being the one jumping out and scaring YOU."

"Ah, but I never scared you," he retorted and she giggled.

"So, you admit that I just did," she shot and he smirked.

"The 'almost gave me a heart attack' comment already gave me away," he remarked and she raised her eyebrows.

"Right," she then agreed; her smile still on and for a few seconds they merely eyed each other before he snapped out of it and asked:

"Having trouble sleeping?"

"Why do you think that?" she asked back, an innocently uncomprehending look on her face.

"I don't think even a Slayer wakes up for a simple creak in a floorboard," he replied and she took a step closer as she said:

"Then you think very wrong. My God, did all those years teach you nothing?"

He smirked again.

"So... having trouble sleeping?" he repeated his question and she smiled a genuine smile at that before she shrugged.

"Not more than usual," she answered. "A good hour of tossing and another one of turning and I'll be ready for that run around the block," she added. "After that I usually like to stare."

"Big fan of the staring myself," he nodded.

"Wall or ceiling?" she wondered and his smile grew back on before he replied.

"Ceiling."

She nodded, her face mock-serious as she leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest.

"All-time favorite," she agreed, looking at him before asking: "So, why'd you come here?"

"Well, it just so happens that your room is between parts and... other parts of this building," he replied and she furrowed her brow, then a light was lit in her eyes and she smiled widely at that comment.

"I remember that," she said. "I can't believe I actually... remember that," she then close to murmured as his eyes grew prodding and she swallowed. "Okay, so I've tossed - AND turned, and I've had time to do the regular stare... I haven't taken on the run yet, but I was thinking..."

She trailed off and he raised his eyebrows.

"Yes?" he then urged.

"Well, since we're up anyways... and neither of us has anything better to do... perhaps we could...?"

"Out with it, I don't have ALL night," he said and she gave him a look which had him smirking.

"Talk?" she finished and the warmth of his smile made her feel her cheeks gently begin to burn, making her avert her gaze and turn around to go and get her robe. "Let's do it in your room," she said to cover this new state up. "It's bigger."

When she turned around, tying the waistband of the piece of clothing and meeting his eyes she shook her head at him.

"What?" he asked as she came up to the doorway and when she gave him a push in the chest as she walked passed him he repeated the inquiry.

"I know what you were thinking," she stated and he stared at her, offended; which made her stop and turn back to him with an extremely meaningful expression on her face and he smiled again.

"Spike would've turned that sentence into meaning something like that," he said. "William... he might not."

"Oh, please, don't get me started on the whole who's who, what's what, Spike, really! I mean, it's confusing enough as it is!" she stated, beginning to walk down the hall toward the stairs and he followed her, feeling light as a feather with contentment.

"Are you gonna get philosophical on me, love?" he asked and she shook her head.

"That's not what I mean... And it's beside the point anyway. I can still SEE what you're thinking, you know?" she stated and his smile merely broadened.

"And what was that?" he wondered, taking the stairs by her side and the question making her open her mouth to reply as she turned her gaze in his before she paused and suddenly looked extremely self-conscious.

"It's so strange that I don't even know your last name," she said and he smirked as she pushed the door to his room open and he followed her through it as she added: "Don't you think that's strange?"

"Well, you never asked me, did you?" he asked back and she stopped in the middle of the floor, turning to face him.

"What's your last name, Will?" she wondered and he tilted his head a little to one side before he replied:

"Kingsley."

***

"And then what?" he asked, smiling widely at the anecdote Buffy was at the end of and she laughed, shaking her head.

"I'm not sure I should tell you," she murmured and he gave her a look which said that she'd better and she giggled, meeting his gaze before she complied and said: "Giles got it by its tail, right? And Willow's holding onto it for dear life by the horns... and with their help I was able to do it. And to be honest it was the strangest, bordering on disgusting and still liberating experience I've ever had. Well, remember I had been battling with it for like two hours or something."

"In a barn," he filled in and she smiled widely.

"I KNEW I shouldn't have told you!" she then muttered, giving him a push with one leg where he lie on the bed, facing her, and he smirked.

"No, no, I can see how milking a cow for the first time would be close to religious; as far as experiences go," he then stated seriously.

"Shut up!" she exclaimed and his smirk merely broadened before he asked:

"And going to 'Jo-Jo's Live Kettle Farm' was whose idea again?"

"Look, Dawn thought we needed to do something... normal," she answered. "And at the time..."

".dressing up as a milking-maid with ringlets and a checkered apron just seemed like the 'normal' thing to you?" he filled in and she laughed again, hiding her face in her hands and growling in mock-agitation with his teasing.

They had been talking for nearly half an hour. At first it had been trying and tentative, but soon the questions began to push forth and with them came honest answers and reappearing curiosity with each other, with what had been happening to them both. Buffy had felt as though she had been in a vacuum at times the past year, but now, retelling the tale of what she had spent her time with, it dawned on her that she had actually been doing something with it. She had seen places she had dreamed of since she was a child.

Glancing at Spike she wondered, as always, what he was thinking in that moment. His eyes glittering with mirth as they met hers and she smiled back, gentle shivers down her spine as she felt that balloon of happiness swell even further inside her. It was just a matter of time before it burst, and then what?

"So, I know Dawn's in school," he said and she nodded, pulling out of her musings.

"She is. She studies on her own accord now, even... She wants to become a lawyer, can you believe that? She says she's going to open the first law practice that handles both human and demon related cases... I mean, she knows there are such firms out there, but she hates how corrupted they are. They don't need to win their cases, they can just live on their bribes," Buffy stated, then smiled a little. "At least according to my sister."

"Well," Spike replied. "I always knew she'd change the world. One way or another."

Buffy's eyes turned tender in a way he had never seen them before and he stared into them before he swallowed and she seemed to see the change on him as she averted her gaze and began to pluck with a wrinkle in the sheet she was lying on.

"You always had that," she then mumbled, looking into his eyes again as she added: "faith."

He smiled at that.

"That crazy bird? I don't think anyone's ever had her," he then said and Buffy furrowed her brow before she blinked.

"Oh yeah, I've been wondering about that. Where is Faith?" she asked and Spike shrugged.

"She left about a month ago on some assignment she wouldn't breathe two words about. Angel business. She takes that really serious, you know," he answered. "I'm pretty sure old Peaches knows exactly where she is, but I haven't heard a word from her since she went away..."

"I'm glad," Buffy said and he raised his eyebrows. "No! Not that she hasn't... I mean, I'm glad that she's okay. She didn't want to come with to England... I lost touch with her after we left America. When Angel mentioned she was here, I guess I just let it slide," she added, the last sentence coming out laced with guilt.

"She spoke well of you," Spike said and Buffy met his gaze again. "She admires you, I think. And, weird as it may sound, you're the closest thing to family that she's got. In a way..."

"Oh, God, don't say it," Buffy grumbled, though she smiled and he returned it.

"You're like the sis she never had," he finished and Buffy huffed.

"I thought of her," she then admitted. "Often. But for a while everything reminding me of Sunnydale just pained and... I guess that while was enough. I should've written her."

"Don't worry about it, love," he reassured.

"Okay," she smiled and he smiled back, the moment once more stretching before Buffy shook her head a little and sat up.

She kept getting lost in the past as well as the present. Memories dancing with the fact of him being there, so near.

Spike observed her profile. The few candles he had lit cast shadow and light in a jumble up the walls and across her face. She had always looked beautiful in the soft glow of fire.

"And Red?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Buffy didn't look at him this time, merely pulled one leg up to rest her chin against the knee and then she answered:

"She lives about an hour from Giles... She's a member of the coven that helped her after she went all world-destruction-y. And she helps others now, with the same problems she had from using too much magic. I think she's happy... She's not seeing anyone new, but she seems to be content with that... for now. And she's powerful, of course. She's been on some journeys of her own, helping to prevent catastrophes of major proportions... She's strong," the Slayer finished and Spike eyed her for a moment or so, watching how she once again seemed to retract into deeper reflection on her own words.

He wondered what she was thinking.

"And Xander?" he then urged her to continue, the sound of her voice was so sweet that he didn't want to be forced to give it up quite yet.

"He's doing well," she nodded, turning her head to meet his gaze. "He's in New York, working as a manager at a construction company... He got the job in spite of his handicap and I'm proud of him. He's made a life for himself there. The last time we spoke - a week ago, I think it is now - he had actually just met a girl. It's a huge step for him... I think that in his heart of hearts he hasn't gotten over Anya yet. Or the fact that he didn't get to say good-bye."

She trailed off, her gaze growing aggrieved and then she scooted off the bed and stood. Spike observed her walking about the room. It was one of the larger suites of the hotel, though it wasn't in any condition to even compare to what it must have looked like in its glory days; it was still comfortable.

The large bed stood in the middle of the room against the wall opposite the door. There was an old desk by the three high windows to the left and an old-fashioned closet with one door hanging slightly askew off its hinges. The floor was bare; he liked the cool feel of the wooden boards. And the last piece of furniture was the one Buffy last came across on her stroll, and by which she also stopped: a heavy-looking chest-of-drawers which stood to the right of the bed, a few feet away from it. On top of it ruled a collection of drawings contained in pretty, wooden frames. Buffy stared at one of them before she reached out a hand and touched the picture of it.

"Did you...?" she mumbled, pausing before finishing: "Did you make these?"

"Yes," he answered simply and she pulled her hand back as though she had been doing something wrong, turning her eyes in his.

"They're beautiful," she then said, looking back at the drawing of her younger sister. "I mean, I knew you could draw... but this," she added and he frowned, questioning. She smiled as she once more looked back at him and saw the expression. "Don't you remember?" she asked, coming back up to him and sitting down next to him as he sat up as well. "Chains. Crypt. Drusilla... Shrine," she then added with a meaningful look and his eyes suddenly widened with enlightenment when he realized where she had seen his display of talent before.

She kept the smile on, but he couldn't return it.

"All the things I did," he grumbled, looking away from her and down at his hands. "I tried to make it better, make it good... and all I did was hurt you."

She shook her head a little, moving one hand to slide it into his and locking their fingers together.

"That's not true," she said and he glanced up at her.

"Sometimes I wish I could undo it," he confessed and her eyes widened before her grip tightened and she said:

"Don't ever wish that."

He reached up a hand and gently touched her cheek, making her close her eyes briefly before she met his again.

"Buffy," he said silently and she smiled a small smile before she let her gaze grace his lips.

She wanted so badly to lean forward and... Her heart skipped a beat and she bit the inside of her cheek hard before she snapped out of it. He opened himself to her and she couldn't focus on anything better than how much she had missed his kisses? Who did she think she was? He sat there, vulnerable and as true as ever, and she tainted that in this way?!

She clenched her jaws together and felt like kicking herself before she took her gaze out of his again.

His hand had already left her cheek, but now he had a small frown on as he noticed how a flash of shame moved across her features, and then it dispersed. However, she stubbornly kept her eyes on a spot somewhere in front of her feet and he had to keep himself from making her look back up at him.

"And what about you?" he asked gently, receiving a short glance from her before she looked away once more.

"What about me?" she asked back and the hand of his still holding hers gave it a little squeeze, having her finally move her head to rest her eyes in his again.

"I know you've milked cows and lived in England for a while and then that you've traveled," he replied, having a small smile draw itself on her lips and he felt pleased at seeing it there. "But," he then continued, "I don't know what you've really wanted... What the sights you've seen has given you. What you've dreamed. What you've felt..."

"You wanna know what I've felt?" she interrupted so suddenly that he was rather surprised, her voice drenched in tears and she fought the quiver they produced back before she pulled her hand out of his and stood for a second time.

He looked up at her as she walked over to the chest-of-drawers and halted by it with her back still to him and her shoulders slouched. Then she straightened her posture and grew close to rigid. Again he wondered what thoughts were running around inside her mind.

"Wanna know what I've dreamed?" she grumbled, turning partially to him and he blinked as the very real tears now in her eyes glimmered in the sustained light of the candles standing on the bedside table.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Buffy," he said honestly and a weak smile escaped her before she shook her head.

"I know, you never mean to..." she mumbled, then turned her head to the row of drawings and tried to stroke away the obstacle before her sight with one hand, succeeding at least to satisfaction as she then reached it out and straightened the positioning of the one she had disturbed earlier.

Taking all of the portrays in, there was the same pang she had felt before as she saw not even a trace of one of herself among them.

There was one of Angel and Cordelia, one of Fred and Gunn and Wesley, one of Faith, the one of Dawn, even one of a being Buffy didn't recognize - he closely resembled a devil, with two small horns in his forehead, and an absolutely incredible depicting of Susannah... but none of the Slayer.

Buffy swallowed hard, not ready to break into pieces before him as she wondered if he had even thought of her at all. What if he had tried to move on? What if he had managed to do just that? What if he had expected to never see her again and her showing up now simply threw that plan into a bag for the time being and brought back old behavior of warmth and feelings and smiles...?

Okay, she was freaking out over nothing. She needed to take a breath and calm down.

She drew that breath shakily, steadying herself and taking a final brush to clear away the wetness of her face before she turned back to him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "There's just so much..."

She trailed off and his eyes grew soft as he smiled a little. She returned it, then slowly approached him again. Taking her seat she sighed.

"I thought about you," she stated, looking up and holding his gaze firmly. "All the time I thought about you. Wherever I was... I wondered if you'd been there. Whatever I saw I wondered if you'd seen it. And every night... I dreamed of you. I saw that cave, I saw the look in your eyes, I felt your hand in mine, and I tried... to change it. So that you lived."

He stared at her, and then her face fell apart and she couldn't hold the sobs down anymore. He didn't hesitate before he reached out and pulled her to him. Her arms wrapped around him as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and he held her tight.

"I wanted you to live," she said, one of her hands sliding into his hair as she pressed herself closer to him and he tried to straighten out all the pieces of information that poured at him from all sides.

His nerves telling him that she was so very close, his hands taking in the smooth skin of her back since they had slid inside her opened robe, his nose enthralled with a trace of vanilla still lingering on the skin of her throat and his mind repeating the words she had just spoken.

Perhaps he had never doubted the fact that she had wanted him to survive... but hearing her say it...

He closed his eyes.

"Shh," he soothed carefully. "Buffy..."

She pulled back, her cheeks streaked with her tears and her eyes locking in his. His heart stopped for that long moment, and that was the only thing he was absolutely sure of.

"Spike," she close to whispered before she smiled barely noticeably.

She didn't think anymore, she let her emotions rule her and the wish for him had been the stronger one for such a long time that it was a natural leader. God, how she had missed him.

The tip of her nose touched his, and then she scraped it tenderly along the side of his before she closed her eyes. Her heart was beating a million miles per hour and she felt a tremble go through her as she carefully moved her head; everything was slow motion and then her lips brushed against his.

His hands were at the small of her back and at the light touch his grip on her hardened again. She took this as encouragement and kissed him almost cautiously on the mouth.

The first caress after so, so long... it was pure heaven and she felt a fear tear through her at the thought of him pulling away, ending it before it even started.

But then his lips met hers on his accord and she smiled a little at the feel before she returned it. They both seemed to pause for just a second, and then they parted their lips at the same time, their embrace getting their chests flush against the other as their tongues found each other. Spike slid one hand down her thigh and took a hold under the knee to move her legs and cross them over his, making her practically sit on his lap and the nearness that much easier to access.

The kiss was deep and lazy, it was an exploration of territory still familiar and yet so delightfully new. The play was gentle and yet every new turn carried a slight note of pending passion that had been sleeping for so long, resting somewhere beneath the surface for the appropriate time to rise and bat its wings once more.

Buffy felt it whenever there was some shift in his body against hers, her own responding immediately to the insinuation of what may come of flesh against flesh...

We can't... she tried to tell herself. It's too soon...

But he was kissing her the way he always had. There was a demand behind it. A call she couldn't ignore or pretend wasn't there because every particle of her returned it. Craved it. She needed him so much. She had fantasized of him too many times for her to count while she was alone in her bed, struggling with another night of sleepless hours... And now he was there, feeling too good to be true. And everything that had been thrown out of course was coming back into how they had first started out.

"Spike..." she murmured, kissing him back when he wouldn't let her end it and then trying to pull away from him as she took a breath. "Spike," she repeated and he opened his eyes to look at her, questioning. "We can't..." she mumbled, though her gaze was veiled with a different conviction and he licked his lips before he joined them with hers again.

Her taste was full like red wine and sweet as honey and he had never had it slip over his tongue the way it was now. Everything he was feeling was enhanced, was heightened by live flesh and blood and heart beat. A heart that right then was beating heavily within his chest and he was aching with something he hadn't felt in a long time. The desire for her was so unmasked and unchanged that it filled him without him having any chance at a defense and he couldn't help but relish in it.

"No," she breathed, finally breaking free and pulling away to get to her feet on much too weak legs as she looked at him. "This is a bad idea, and bad timing, and... bad all together."

"Wasn't that always part of the thrill?" he shot and she held his gaze, her face growing very serious before she nodded.

"Yes," she then said. "It was."

He frowned slightly, growing questioning as to what underlying meaning he could read into that statement before she added:

"I should go... Good night."

"Buffy."

"Good night," she cut him short as she walked up to the door, giving him a small smile before she opened it and disappeared through it.

He threw himself back on the bed and closed his eyes.

Wow.

**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** ******************

What Is To Be

-Fourteenth-

By Annie

2003-09-29

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Spike opened his eyes again, stretching out further on the bed in order to reach the handle of the bedside table drawer. He pulled it out and proceeded to slide his hand inside it, shuffling the contents around for a short while before his fingers were able to grasp the frame of the one picture Buffy had been searching so in vain for.

He pulled it out and brought it so that he could rest his eyes on her beautiful face. How he had drawn her was how he had always wanted to see her - happy. Aglow. He had never been able to instill that emotion in her. All she had ever connected to him was death. In one way or another all their moments, even those spent in resemblance to harmony, had been laced with pain and confusion and underlying doubt in what was right between them ultimately being wrong.

Now he let his fingertips grace the picture of her.

She was laughing, smiling at someone to the side of the frame. It was funny how his hand had made her that way without his mind really having anything to do with it. He hadn't felt as though he had the right to make her do anything - even if that 'anything' was nothing more than having her look directly in his eyes out of a stupid drawing.

"I never had you," he mumbled. "And yet I managed to lose you."

Her kiss.

It had been... mind-blowing, world-altering, earth-shattering...

Did she understand what she did to him? What her doing what she did to him meant to him? And she had stopped herself. She had stopped them. Why? From what she had said just before she left his room he had almost gotten the sense that she...

What was he doing? Why was he lying there trying to figure out what her motive was? What kind of a moron was that labeling him as?

He needed to speak with her.

Right now.

Sitting up he unceremoniously threw the drawing to the side, scooted to the edge and quickly got off the bed, walking up to the door and through it.

He'd tell her everything. How he'd missed her. How he'd thought of her, just as she had him... He'd tell her everything.

Buffy slowed as she reached the door of her bedroom, stopping completely on the threshold.

His scent was still all around her. His touch lingered on her skin, and his kiss... She had finally felt like she had reached that place where she was supposed to be. No more need to search, no more need to journey far and wide. In every corner of the world she had kept a look-out for the spot that sang of him and the only one that did was right where he was. Right where she had been a minute or so ago...

And she had pulled out of it.

Terrified.

She was terrified that it would be a mistake to rush into a behavioral pattern which caused their destruction last time.

As this thought churned through her head, however, she suddenly smiled widely. It sounded more than ridiculous. Behavioral pattern? Yes, they did sleep together, and she used him relentlessly, and he let her willingly. And in the end the situation had broken in two and so had they. But now? Kissing him now was like breathing fresh air for the first time. Him close to her was a state of rejoice, because she had so firmly told herself it would never happen again.

What was she doing? Why was she repeating her mistake? Why was she retracting when she should be pushing forward with everything in her? She had been granted a second chance, was she truly so foolish that she wouldn't take it?

I don't want to rush, she thought meekly. I can't rush this!

So don't! the voice of reason countered. But don't have him think that you don't care about him. Go to him right now and ask him all the questions you still have unanswered. And tell him, Buffy. Tell him.

At that she swirled around and hurried back down the hallway.

Spike felt exhilarated and scared and ready and as he took the corner of the stairs he bumped into someone harshly, fingers splaying against his abs as he came to a short halt and then looked down; into eyes of green and he was entangled in them as he stared at her.

Her hands against his bare stomach and her head tilted back, painted in a weak beam of moonlight falling through the hallway, she looked irresistible and a small look of wonder placed itself upon his face as it slowly became clear to him that she had been on her way back - to him.

Buffy's heart was hammering, making it difficult to breathe easily, but she couldn't notice anything but that expression in his eyes. The way he was observing her now was how he always had. His gaze seeing through all her walls of protection, through all her layers of falsehoods, through that brick-wall of strength and right into her.

Just her.

And it had always been enough.

Her fingers slid over his chest, over taut muscles and warm skin and then she stepped close to him, tilting her head back further and feeling his hands glide over her hips before pushing her to him and she smiled a little.

Wetting her lips she felt the anticipation grow within her. His torso was heaving gently against the thin fabric of her short nightgown, he was so real the feeling in her chest nearly pained her as she wanted to write how much she loved him in her gaze so that he could read it, have it imbed itself within him.

And then he leaned forward and joined their lips and he kissed her deeply, greedily, starved for her blessing caress and she kept a low moan down as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back heatedly. He turned them both around so that he could lean her against the wall behind her, fitting his body against hers and her tongue grew even more demanding at the movement. Her hands in his hair and sliding over the muscles of his strong arms and over the softness of his back and trying to take it all in.

Too fast, too fast, moving rapidly into overdrive and how could she resist him? How could she possibly have this second in time give way for childish need of practicality? She was in love with him, she had mourned him, and now an embrace lost to her over two years ago was finally being set back in motion. How could she stop the wheels of time from turning when they had brought her back to him? When they had so clearly meant for her to find her way back to him?

This wasn't too fast, it had been too long!

Together they began to make their way along the wall to the stairs. Still locked together they struggled up them, kissing and smiling and Buffy stifling her giggles whenever they stumbled. Reaching his door Buffy ended the kiss and stepped away from him before she walked backwards through the doorway, one of her hands taking one of his and pulling him with her.

He got close to her the next moment, getting his arms around her again and she smiled widely before they resumed the kiss and she closed her eyes as his tongue cautiously played with hers. The fervor was rising once again and he took a step forward, tripping her and they tumbled to the floor with a loud thud.

Buffy began to laugh as the kiss was broken and Spike did as well, before he hushed her and she smiled.

"It's YOUR fault," she then whispered and he returned her smile.

She sat up as he pulled himself back to sit on his knees and then he stood, taking her outstretched hands and helping her to her feet. She looked up at him and he met her gaze for a moment before they attacked each other again, their mouths crashing together and the kiss deepening as they started to get the tangle which was them over to the bed, shuffling the way they suspected it to be.

Spike's fingers slid down her sides and then grabbed the fabric of the piece of clothing she was wearing and her eyes opened to meet his just before he pulled it up and over her head. She swallowed, her gaze not leaving his as he simply threw the nightgown aside and then had her against him again.

Her nipples were stiff against his burning skin and he felt the ache for her intensify as her hands caressed his chest and slipped down to the knot holding up the pajama bottoms he was in. Then she smirked a little and he could do nothing but mirror it as she pulled the knot open and put her hands on either hip, making the hems of the bottoms slip over his skin and then tumble to lie around his ankles.

Her eyes were warm now, and she reached up one hand to slide it tenderly over his cheek before her smirk turned into a smile and he drew a small breath before he leaned forward and kissed her softly on the mouth.

Then he slid his hands down her back, over her buttocks making her mouth fall slightly agape and her eyes glaze over, and then he grabbed her thighs and made her let out a cry of surprise as he had her fall backward while he followed, landing on top of her as she hit the mattress of the bed and she suppressed her giggles with effort as she buried her face against his shoulder.

And then those giggles were pushed aside for an intake of breath as his mouth closed around her left nipple and she moaned her pleasure as she claimed fistfuls of his bleached curls.

She felt weak and rigid at the same time, her whole being filled with expectation as his lips and tongue trailed up to the side of her throat and further to her chin, kissing it before his mouth found hers again and she met his tongue with her own as he moved to fit himself between her legs.

They were both breathing heavily and he stopped the kiss, putting his forehead to hers and opening his eyes as she did the same. Then he moved his hips forward, slowly filling her and her eyes widened slightly. Once he was buried inside of her he lay still and she stared up at him as sweat began to break across her forehead, her lips practically brushing his as his face was so close.

Her breathing was becoming erratic now, her hands clasping his shoulders.

He bit his lower lip, moving his hips one fraction of an inch and having her gasp silently.

Then he let his mouth join with hers again, gently, deepening the kiss with care and having her tremble beneath him. They began to move together as though their bodies understood each other's language to perfection and she met his slow thrusts as low groans of building ecstasy kept escaping her.

The sensations within him were somehow stronger than before. The bliss coursing through him was intensified by live nerves and flesh and heart. A heart that was beating heavily inside his bosom and nerves that were tingling and aching and receiving her as her fingers slid over them. It was indescribable, the close to euphoria instilled in him as he was brought closer and closer to the peak, knowing that she was climbing it with him, hearing her low testament to what he was able to do to her... Making love.

He smiled at the thought, his lips still locked with hers, and then his eyes shot open and they met hers as the wave of pleasure came crashing over him. He was holding his breath, looking at her as the meaning of his life was a bright spot somewhere before his sight and the feel of her sweat streaked body weighed down with his own was the center of his entire universe. His love for her a pulsating light-bulb in the middle of his heart, shining up the last shadowed corner of his being and clearing up any confusion he might have had as to why he had been brought back.

Buffy kept her eyes in his as she watched the stricken expression in them. He looked as though what he was feeling was something he had never felt before, and it surprised her, because all the times she had been in his bed, all the times she had been in the very position she was in now, she had never seen him look like that.

She drew a small breath as she let the aftermath of the climax settle itself in her loins, spreading its relaxation with the blood pumping through her and she closed her eyes again as his lips met hers in a gentle kiss.

They were still holding onto each other. Were still one tight mass of body parts thrown together, neither one knowing where one started and the other one ended.

They didn't speak.

They didn't need to.

Because in the next moment their eyes once more met; and they both smiled.

***

"Tell me something you've never told anyone," she mumbled sleepily, two hours later.

She was secured in his arms, her head resting comfortably against his chest. She was filled with nothing but contentment. Her body tired in a very good way, the best way.

"Something I've never told anyone?" he asked, sounding thoughtful at the same time as wondering and she smiled a little. "Like a secret?" he added and she nodded.

"A deep one," she requested and he smiled as well, pressing her a little tighter to him before he furrowed his brow slightly.

What could he tell her? Something that wouldn't ruin the frail calm of this moment? Something that wouldn't dredge up dark memories...

"I was more nervous about tonight than you could even imagine," he finally murmured and she moved her head to look up at him, questioningly.

"Nervous?" she asked. "Why?"

"Well, to be honest... Bloody-..." he stopped himself in the muttered profanity and then rolled his eyes at her expression beginning to get much too curious and she seemed to grow more awake by the second. "Before I was turned I'd never... As a human I had never..."

For a second longer she looked oblivious as to where he was trying to take his sentences, and then her eyes widened with comprehension.

"YOU were a VIRGIN!" she exclaimed and his eyes grew as well.

"Would you keep it the sod down?!" he grumbled between clenched jaws just before she burst into a fit of giggles, resting her forehead against his chest. "If you don't stop that..." he threatened and she forced herself to quiet down, raising her head again and being completely unable to hold back her wide smile.

"I'm sorry," she said, not sounding as though she meant it even the slightest.

"Why's this such a shock?" he asked and she merely kept the smile on, making him add: "So, I was a romantic."

"Romantic? How old were you when you were turned anyways? Twenty-...seven?" she inquired and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Twenty-five," he then corrected. "But, does AGE have anything to do with it?" he asked and she shook her head.

"No, it doesn't. Except... I just find it a little bit hard to believe that you'd never... I mean, jeez, you're so..." She was blushing now, his gaze growing much too teasing at her stammering and she produced a smile for cover before she finished: "You're just so at home... in bed."

He laughed at that, then rested his eyes in hers again with the blue in his glittering and she smirked.

"I still remember my time as a vamp, you know," he pointed out with a meaningful glint in his gaze and she raised her eyebrows before she smiled once more, breaking eye-contact as her cheeks began to burn again and she felt slightly agitated at how she kept failing in hiding it from him.

"But still," she mumbled as his words finally sunk in and she looked back at him. "That means that in a way... I'm your... first. Doesn't it?" He nodded a little and she stared at him for a long while before she gently pulled herself up and put her lips to his, taking in his lower one and letting it go only for the upper one before she ended the kiss softly. "Thank you," she said, "for choosing me."

He held her gaze, observing her closely for a minute, and then he smiled tentatively.

"You're welcome," he replied and she returned the smile, letting one hand slide through his blonde curls as she watched his face, caught in the shape of his jaw, his nose, his mouth, and that striking color of blue out of which his eyes were born.

"I hope it was everything you thought it would be," she then said in a mock- dramatic tone and he smirked.

"It far exceeded..." he began his mock-dramatic reply and then he trailed off, once again just looking at her, and then he said: "It was different... Incredibly... different. ...Incredible. And you look..." The words wouldn't flow as he got lost in the fine curves of her face.

Buffy felt how she grew self-conscious under the tenderness of his gaze, but she couldn't get her eyes out of his and finally she merely smiled tryingly.

"What?" she nearly whispered and he smiled as well, sliding one hand's fingertips along her cheek before he shook his head a little.

"Everything," he then murmured and her smile widened slightly as his hands grabbed her upper-arms and pulled her closer before kissing her deeply, her response being unmistakable.

When they finally moved apart again Buffy giggled, shaking her head at his quizzical gaze and then saying:

"You're too good to be true."

He smiled as well, then kissed the tip of her nose and she sank down to place her head back on his chest, feeling how tired she actually was.

"Tell me something YOU'VE never told anyone," he said, voice low and grumbled with sleep as well.

She thought for a few moments, then said:

"When I first found out who I was... well, AM... and what was expected of me... I've never felt so scared and lost and alone and strong and sure all at the same time. And for so many years I wanted a way out of it, I truly did. It screwed everything up. School, friends, my family. But when all the other slayers were just all of a sudden... there; I don't know... I guess I felt a little like a piece of me was lost, forever. And I couldn't ever get it back. It's liberating to not be alone anymore, and I wouldn't want to go back to how it was... But sometimes I miss Sunnydale. I miss patrolling, and Giles busting my ass, and the house. God, I really miss that house. I miss the Bronze and all the familiar places... It's just a hole in the ground now, you know? Just a buncha memories."

She stopped talking at that and he felt a sudden sorrow at hearing her words as they brought back those memories much too vividly.

"Yeah," he then agreed, "that town saw one too many showdowns." He paused, then added: "I miss the sign."

"What?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"The 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign. I'll never crash into it again," he sighed and she moved her head to look up at him, meeting his eyes and then laughing with him, as he did. "Don't worry," he then said. "There'll be new streets to walk, another city to be conquered by you, to be home... You'll create new memories. Better ones."

She smiled again at that, looking at him for another second before putting her cheek against his chest once more.

"I'm convinced you're right," she said, slipping one hand across his torso and keeping her smile on to herself.

Shivers hurried over her shoulders as he let one hand slide through her locks and she closed her eyes as he kept the movement up, repeating it gently.

"If you don't stop that I'll fall asleep," she warned.

"Good," he simply replied. "Sleep tight, love."

She smiled for the hundredth time and cuddled closer to him.

Yup, she thought. Creating better ones right now... with you.

**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** ******************
 

What Is To Be

-Fifteenth-

By Annie

2003-09-30

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

She had reached the first goal for the evening and sunk down on her knees in the dirt and grind covering the edge of the seemingly endless hole. The ground in which it was located was nothing but a wasteland of dark-gray rubble and debris, soot and stone. The sky was clouded over and it looked as though a large storm was threatening to unleash its wrath upon her.

She had not even one thought to spare for it.

She brought out the rope which was to bring her down into the darkness, securing it around a thick metal pole sticking out of the ground before she threw the remaining rope down the gape of where she was headed. Bracing herself she then turned around and slowly began to make her way over the ledge and further downwards.

After what felt like an eternity being surrounded by nothing but black her feet finally touched down on what felt like solid rock and she let the rope go as she took a step back and turned around. Reaching into one of the back pockets of her black outfit she brought out a flare and lit it, bringing it over her head as she took her first in depth look at the Hellmouth.

Slowly the flare was being extinguished and she could feel a chill around her hand once it died completely. She realized instinctively that she needn't bother to even try lighting another one. This place was not kind to brightness, smothering it so sufficiently... Nothing good dwelled here, only dark magic and simmering evil. It went straight to the bone and she felt as if it crawled up her back and further up her neck as though it was actually a being.

Swallowing she carefully began to take step upon step upon step forward, moving toward something which she knew she had to find, but wasn't certain of how to locate. She knew she had to go on pure feeling, believing that her heart would lead her through the shadows.

Closing her eyes she let her senses reach out and cautiously she made her way towards the unknown second goal.

It was so dark.

Her voyage seemed to go on forever though she focused her thoughts away from that fact with determination as she knew every single step also brought her closer. And before she knew it there it was, a distinct scent in the still air - of water.

She nearly stumbled, but steadied herself and had the most overwhelming feel of déjà vu before she let it go and drew a small breath. Opening her eyes again she thought the high walls around her were stretched over with the farthest reaches of a light source stemming from up ahead and she felt a surge of conviction run through her as she understood that she was very close now.

The sound of a silent scratch against the rocks she had so far put behind her made her stiffen slightly before she whipped her head around, gazing through shadow, but her Slayer sight not revealing any movements. She listened for a few more moments, but when nothing more was heard she turned back to face forward and once more got herself going.

Reaching out a hand she put it against the harsh cave wall and traced it in order to help her keep her course, moving ever nearer and feeling her heart beat harder for every step forward.

After ten paces she rounded a corner and her eyes were hit by such a bright light that she had to shield them with one hand. However, they adjusted quickly enough and she slowly lowered her hand again as her gaze landed on the origin of the illumination: a well in the cavern floor.

For a second she was terribly convinced she had seen it before, and then she shook it off as she glanced about at her surroundings.

There was the sound of the ocean somewhere in the background, she realized. And the cavern was smaller than she had pictured it while approaching it. She had thought it would be grand, since it obviously was important, though she still wasn't sure exactly why. But this place wasn't any greater than fitting her old house within its trap.

Turning her eyes back on the well she frowned.

What was it with it? It tempted her with its clearness, yet it frightened her in some elusive way. Sickened her to the verge of not being able to move from her current position. There was something dark surrounding it. Some evil at play about it which wasn't strong enough to persuade her supernatural senses of the gentle disguise it had chosen for itself.

As she watched the mirror-like surface of the water her throat began to signal how much in need it was of tasting what lay beneath. How it craved the coolness of it slipping over its dusty-dry confinement and she swallowed. The hesitation she felt at approaching the spot finally gave way for this building thirst and she started up to it once the decision had been made.

As she got closer a ray of light suddenly shot up from the former source and it hit the cavern ceiling gently, she furrowed her brow as she tilted her head back and looked at the spot on which it now rested. There was an "A" carved into the stone and around it glowed a white ring. It was as though the light imbedded itself into the carving of the latter, circling within its dents and crannies and making it shimmer.

The notion of having seen all this before was taking over once more, and for a moment she thought she was about to be able to grasp it, but it still managed to escape her and she looked up at the "A" again before she turned her gaze back on the well, sinking to her knees by the edge and watching the surface for another moment, thinking she could see a drop of red swirling just beneath it before simply cupping her hands and then plunging them into the wetness.

She brought them deep down, closing her eyes as she pulled them up again, carrying the fluid with them and to her lips. She drank, greedily but deeply. Repeating the movement as she had finished the contents of the first trip. Her body was being revived, the water sliding through it, into her veins, being picked up by her nerves, her dried lungs, her beating heart. It coursed through her, joining her pulse. She was growing lightheaded.

She finished the second handful and once more dipped her arms down before having her hands by her mouth for a third time.

Then there was a whisper right by her ear, it was Dawn's voice and it said:

"It's poison to you."

As the last word of that sentence slid through her mind, before she had a chance to react, she had thrown the last of the liquid away from her with an unprovoked yell of disgust and as she opened her eyes they widened with that very same emotion.

The surface of the well rippled from her movement as the drops she had held in her palms splashed into it, only now it was a deep red. Only now - it was blood.

The coppery taste of it stuck to every single taste-bud of her mouth and she stared in abhorrer as she scrambled backwards.

The light had been extinguished by the thickness of the new contents, but an eerie residue seemed to linger against the walls and she could still see her surroundings as she got to her feet. Looking down at her hands she noticed they were clean.

Tilting her head back she frowned, this time deeply, as she caught the change the "A" had gone through as it was blackened, smudged, and how the black ring formed an ominous prison around it.

Suddenly there was a disturbance in the well and something floated to the surface, making her take her eyes off the confusing sign above to what now showed bopping calmly in the sticky waves. She eyed it in suspicion before it hit her. She recognized it and it wasn't a something at all - it was a someone.

She was by the edge in the next instant, reaching out her arms and grabbing the shoulder which was all that was really showing. Pulling the body forcefully to her and dragging it up, the legs still in the thick liquid as she rolled it over and stared down at the pale face of someone gone forever.

Oh, God, let him be okay. Let him live.

She was trembling as she bent over him and let her hands gently stroke his cheeks, his brow, his hair - realizing that he was clean as well, the blood had simply dripped off of him and now he lay there in alabaster splendor.

Please. Open your eyes. Look at me. Spike...

He coughed and stirred slightly before he did as she pleaded and eased his eyes open. They looked at her in wonderment, disoriented for a second before he smiled and reached up one hand to slide it over her cheek.

"Buffy," he whispered and she returned the smile as the tears that had been building ran over.

"Spike," she said. "There's so much... I want to say..."

But he shook his head, cutting her short before he caught his breath as his gaze grew pained.

The tender smile that had been on her lips now retracted as she looked at him with the questions rising within her.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, feeling how his body began to grow warmer against her, beneath her fingers.

"I will always..." he mumbled, then a brief smile touched his lips before his brow furrowed with agony and his eyes closed, his head lolling to the side and his muscles going limp.

"Spike?" she tried, putting one hand by his right cheek and moving his face so that she could look at it, search it for a clue as to what had just happened. "Spike?" she repeated, her tone close to begging him for a response.

There was none.

A tear slid down her nose and clung to the tip for just a second before letting go, hitting his cheek as she bent forward and kissed him softly on the mouth.

"I need you," she whispered, putting her forehead to his and having a quiet sob rip through her.

Then he was slowly pulled out of her arms and she raised her head as she watched him being almost carefully suspended in the air. She stared, her mouth dropping agape at the sight, and then he was slammed into the hard wall behind him and she let out a cry of objection as she got to her knees, ready to fight whatever element of hell or earth doing something so disrespectful, something so horribly wrong.

But she couldn't move, and he slid down the wall to the ground, still lifeless.

Dead.

She was weeping in stillness now, the defeat filling her with a hopelessness she had never experienced before.

"Spike..."

His name coming out in such a hushed voice it barely sounded and then she sat back, still on her knees, her hands in her lap as she bent her head in grief and desperation.

There was a flash of fire from where he had come to reside and she knew he was gone.

Her heart was breaking in such a way that it made it impossible for her to breathe. Her soul was crying and thrashing within her, shaking her emotions up even more and she chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tried to keep herself from getting up and ramming her head into one of the cavern walls.

And then there was the careful touch of hands on her head, sliding through her hair before someone got down before her and the hands moved to her shoulders and then to either side of her face as his voice said:

"Why are you crying?"

She drew a breath in surprise and looked up sharply, meeting the blueness of his eyes that were smiling at her through concern.

"You... died," she then replied to his question, her own eyes wide with growing shock. "You died!" she added and he blinked, then tilted his head a little to one side before he pulled her to him in a tight embrace and she held him back with the happiness beginning to spread throughout her.

"I had to," he said, voice low next to her ear. "I had to die..."

"William..." she mumbled and he pulled away to look at her.

She smiled, reaching up one hand and touching the spot of his left eyebrow which had preciously carried a trademark scar. Now it was gone.

"William," she said again and he returned her smile tentatively before he put one hand by hers and brought it down to his lips, kissing her palm gently before he got to his feet.

She looked up, tilting her head back and then following him with her eyes as he walked toward the passageway through which she had arrived.

"Remember what I said?" he asked and she felt at a loss for a short while before she was hit by what he was referring to, and she nodded. "It's watching you," he added, turning away and about to begin to walk again when he paused, turning partially to her and then smiling a small smile again, reaching out a hand to her.

She looked at it, then back in his eyes and she smiled widely as she quickly rose to her feet and walked up to him. Sliding her hand in his they softly eyed each other and in the next moment - she woke up.

With an intake of breath she was torn from the dream and her eyes opened as she stared up at the ceiling.

She turned on her side and her arm rested directly on Spike's chest, gently heaving with sleep-drenched breaths and she smiled to herself as she watched him in the stillness of the room.

How could anyone be that beautiful? How could she have spent so much time hating those features?

She held back a soft laugh at the thought, remembering just to what lengths he had gone in order to INSURE that he instilled nothing but fear and despise in her.

The man she loved with all her heart.

What a story they had.

How far had they not come since their first encounter in that darkened alley behind the Bronze? How much had not happened between them? It was amazing to even think of it.

She let the thoughts run freely as she relaxed her head in one hand, observing him intently.

She stayed that way for a long time, not wanting to move or make him stir. Wanting to remember the moment forever, burn it into her memory banks. That peaceful sleep her lover was in, that peaceful sound of his soft breathing, that true contentment she felt at simply lying there, next to him, close to him, watching over him.

It wasn't until an hour and a half later that she came to the conclusion that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep; and the light falling in through the window was a sufficient tattletale on time and told her that it was morning.

She placed gentle kisses up his cheek before she smiled and carefully pulled away from him. Grabbing her nightgown and robe she pulled both on and then sneaked up to the door, glancing back at him and once again smiling before she slipped out into the hallway.

She was hungry and so she headed for the kitchen. Entering it she was greeted by Fred who just poured hot water into a mug before retrieving the teabag she had already gotten for herself. Buffy joined her, leaning against the kitchen counter. Fred took a cautious sip of her tea as she casually observed the Slayer.

The latter had a smile on; in fact, she hadn't taken it off since she first walked through the doorway. She looked... sublimely happy and Fred had to smile a little with her. The blonde seemed oblivious to the very accurate interpretation of her state; actually she seemed quite lost to any impressions of what was going on around her.

Then she suddenly drew a breath, straightened her posture and walked over to the fridge. As she was still wearing the smile Fred had to laugh silently, making the other turn her head to her questioningly.

"You look like a woman in love," Fred merely pointed out meaningfully, making Buffy's cheek flush slightly as the other left the room and walked out into the foyer.

"Surprise," the Slayer then murmured and giggled to herself.

***

Spike woke slowly, blinking at the daylight falling in across the bed and then smiling to himself before he stretched and rolled onto his side, turning his head to where he expected his love to be. Only, she wasn't. The bed was empty but for him and he blinked as a chill went through him.

It made him remember nothing of the night prior, made him remember nothing but all the mornings he had awoken to nothing but an abandoned place next to him; reminding him that forever he was to be nothing else but a cheap fuck to her. An easy lay. A quick escape out of the pain and loss and confusion she so obviously felt facing the so bleak everyday.

He sat up straight.

Throwing the sheet aside he got to his feet, about to walk right out the door when he realized he was very much naked. Turning back he grabbed his pajama bottoms off the floor and pulled them on rather harshly.

There was a twirl of emotions in his chest, the primary one being a crude panic at this whole scenario as it had taken place too many times before. With a clawing apprehension inside of him he rushed downstairs.

***

"She's humming," Cordelia murmured to Fred as the two watched the Slayer who had been wandering around the foyer seemingly aimlessly for nearly twenty minutes, touching a detail in one wall here or sliding her hand along the reception counter there.

She still wore the smile, her face growing into a look of dreamy thoughts once and again as she paused for a moment or two, her smile then widening just a tad or so before she got herself moving again.

Lost in thought of making love to him, having him make love to her, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and holding him close as he held her. Nothing could compare to him, no one could ever come close. And he was hers... She had seen it in his eyes last night. No matter what words fell from his lips she knew now that his eyes would never lie to her, they couldn't hide anything from her because she knew them far too well for them to be able to. He had loved her then, and he loved her still. And she felt exhilarated, uplifted by this feeling of being loved by the one person on this earth that she needed to love her.

And now, yes, she was humming; no matter how unaware of it she was.

She hadn't felt this good since... She could barely remember since when.

And nothing could ruin it for her.

"So this is how it's gonna be?!" his voice suddenly bellowed and her eyes grew wide as she twirled around to face him coming down the stairs.

Her smile faded at the look of fury on his face.

"What?" she then asked, incredulous, thinking that he must be joking.

He approached her, stopping a few feet away from her and she stared at him as she determined that he truly was not.

"You'll come to me when you want to? Make me scratch your little itch and then you're gone?!" he exclaimed and now her jaw dropped in astonishment. "I CAN'T live like that!" he added and she blinked before she furrowed her brow.

"Exactly what the hell are you saying?" she then demanded and his eyebrows rose.

"I know this dance, love," he replied. "I was there when we bloody invented it! This old game of push-and-pull, who-wants-what, end-before-it-begins... Bloody hell, did you ever stop to think?!" he asked, voice still loud and Buffy felt a cold stab in her side, trailing up to her heart as she began to understand where he was going with this; and at the realization her eyes grew hard, the shock at this question mixing with a growing fury with him.

With his near-sighted, dumb-ass conclusions.

"I guess I didn't," she said coldly and he drew a breath, his chest heaving already from his anger and she clenched her jaws together with agitation.

"You forget I could feel now, pet?" he asked, the dripping sarcasm in his voice making her meet his gaze with one harsh before she voiced what was pushing to be screamed at him.

"Are you seriously standing there saying this to me?!" she burst out.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"What the hell gave you the right?!"

"I know you," he replied and her eyes grew before she cocked an eyebrow.

"Really?" she asked and he smirked in the way he always had and always would before he put his hands out to the sides and said:

"You're all about instant gratification, aren't you, love?"

She stared at him, speechless.

Then she moved her arm before she could stop herself and her palm met his cheek in a brutal slap. His head moved to the side and his upper body followed before he twisted thirty degrees and lost his balance, going down on his knees.

"How can you even THINK that of me?!" she screamed, her eyes glazed over with sudden tears.

But his hunched form, his slumped shoulders and his bent neck as he sat with his back to her made her feel a pang of sadness.

"God, how I must've hurt you," she said, voice low and then she tentatively got down on the floor next to him.

She carefully moved her hands up over his arms, to his jaw line, making him look at her as she blinked at her tears. His cheek was burning red and she frowned at the sight, the guilt coming over her like billowing smoke. His eyes did tell her of his pain, of his fear; of this blinding, paralyzing scare that she had just given him.

"You have to trust that I won't hurt you anymore," she mumbled, putting her forehead softly against his as her fingers carefully caressed the place they had just slammed into. "I won't..."

His arms slipped around her and he pulled her to him, making her let out a small sigh of relief as she buried her face against his shoulder.

"Can't you tell how much I love you?" she whispered in his ear and his hold tightened, making the smile reattach itself on her lips, the relief now filling every part of her with the speed of sound. "I love you," she repeated and he pressed her to him, his nose against the side of her throat.

He could have faced anything at that particular moment. Any demon sent from any corner of the underworld would have been no match for him. He felt invincible. The same way he had felt the first and only time she had ever spoken those words to him before.

"I love you too," he said, kissing her collarbone before he raised his head and rested his gaze in hers.

"I missed you so much," she practically sobbed, her lips meeting his as he nodded.

"I missed you too," he said, kissing her back.

"Why didn't you send for me?" she asked, pulling back and her tears welling over the edges of her eyes as she looked at him. "How could you not send for me? It's what's killing me! You were there for me through some of the hardest times of my life, and you wouldn't let me be there for you!"

"No, that's not... It wasn't that I didn't WANT to let you know... I just wanted, for once, to not ruin anything for you," he tried to explain, her eyebrows rising.

"Ruin?!" she exclaimed, letting him go as she got to her feet and he followed her movement. "You didn't believe what I told you in that godforsaken cave three-hundred-and-twenty years ago? You didn't think I meant every single word?!"

"I lived on those words! But I didn't bleeding well know if you..."

He trailed off and she shook her head.

"That's bull-shit!" she stated. "You were scared! You thought that I didn't mean them enough to have them STILL mean something. You thought that all you'd get from me was a letter of welcome-back, didn't you?"

"No," he shook his head.

"Yes, you did!"

"No, that was what I was AFRAID of, okay?!" he yelled. "Okay! So I WAS scared. I was bloody terrified, but not of you not feeling it then... but yeah, of you not feeling it now! Happy?!"

"But... why?" she asked and he looked away from her before he once again turned his eyes in hers.

"If someone handed you the moon," he answered, "would you keep it for yourself, or have it hung back up in the sky to shine for everyone to see?" She looked uncomprehending and so he elaborated with: "Angel told me about you, what you were doing. You had made a life for yourself, as far as I could tell. I didn't want to disrupt it for you, I've done that so many times before... And yeah, I was scared that if I got in touch with you, you'd write that you were happy I was okay, but that you were too busy to come straight away or that you'd pop by as soon as you had another reason taking you back here or... Well, down those lines it went. I couldn't be selfish, Buffy. You were made to shine."

"I haven't been shining like some frickin' star in the sky ever since you left!" she shot. "I've been miserable and alone and all I wanted was to see you again, talk with you..."

"I'm sorry," he said, his face displaying the truth of that sentence perfectly as he took a step toward her and she didn't hesitate before she took those dividing them, having his arms around her again as she hugged him hard. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"I know," she assured. "I know you didn't. I'm sorry too."

They pulled apart slightly again, looking at each other for something close to an eternity before she smiled a little. He smiled back and then he leaned forward, his lips meeting hers before they deepened the kiss softly

Cordelia and Fred, inconspicuous and still eager audience to the scene, shared a wide smile at the obvious finale just as Angel came out from his office and at the sight which met him he paused, looking over at the two ladies before he asked:

"What'd I miss?"

"A fight," Cordelia answered him.

"That's the making up," Fred added and Angel glanced at the two blondes before he smiled a little as well.

"I need to find someone to argue with," he muttered, giving Cordelia a discrete look before he smirked and walked out to the kitchen.

Buffy's arms had slid up around Spike's neck and now she smiled as they ended the kiss and once more faced each other. He gently kissed her forehead and then nudged the tip of her nose with his own. Her smile persisted as she kissed him on the lips before wrapping her arms around him and pulling herself close to him in a hard hug.

"Let's never fight again," she whispered in his ear and to that he laughed.

"What fun is there in that?" he replied and she giggled, relaxing into him and feeling a deeply rooted ease fill her as she understood that the final step was taken and now... now there was the future.

And, before then, the end-of-the-world thing to deal with, of course.

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