TITLE: Like Unto Eternity (1/1)

AUTHOR: Nynaeve

E-MAIL: nynaeve1723@dnafan.com

RATING: R - definitely

KEYWORDS: Spuffy fic, some bloody play

TYPE: missing scene from "The Chosen," more or less continuation of "Moment."

SUMMARY: see TYPE <g>

DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere. Just drop me a line please so I can visit. Also all my work is

archived at my soap site: www.dnafan.com. Click on link for Nynaeve's fan fiction.

DEDICATION: Alyssa, Wen and Kris.

Like Unto Eternity

She lay on her side, in the crook of his arm. Her head was pillowed on his bare shoulder.

His arm bent at the elbow, giving his hand access to her hair. He stroked it with gentle

fingers. His other arm lay draped over her side, their hands joined, fingers entwined,

resting on the sheet beneath them. Her heart was just now slowing to its regular pace and

her breathing was evening out.

He kept his voice quiet. Those in the kitchen above probably had little doubt what he and Buffy had been

up to, as it were, but he didn't feel a need to share their post-coital talk with them, either.

"D'y'ever start thinking about the things you want, but can't have?"

She grinned. "Didn't I just prove I'm an attain-a-thon?"

He chuckled and nuzzled her ear. "That's not what I meant, Luv." Her heat still enveloped him,

and her scent still intoxicated him. "Though that's not to say I don't want you." He kissed

her earlobe. "Again." Another kiss, this one on her neck. "And again." She craned her head

around and he kissed her mouth. "And possibly again."

She giggled and, only half-jokingly, asked if they had time for all that.

Spike reminded her he was a vampire.

She nodded, grinning ear to ear now, understanding his implication. Then she grew sober.

"What is it you want, but can't have?"

"You'll think I've gone crazy." He smiled. "Again."

She rolled over in his embrace. Pressed so closely together, he could feel her pulse quicken again

as their bodies began renewing their clamor for each other. "I won't. I promise."

He spoke with great trepidation. "A kid."

Her eyes widened. "A what?"

"See? You think I'm bleeding nuts."

"No." She breathed in deeply and then exhaled. "No, it's just - a kid?"

He smiled - shyly. "Yeah." He brushed a strand of her from her face. "You know, a part of

what - whatever it is we have."

Her face softened.

He hurried on. "I know it might not last. Probably won't. But - I love you, Buffy-"

"Spike, I-"

"No, no, don't say anything. I know it's always gonna be Angel first in your heart. I know that,

but-"

"You *are* in my heart. You know that, don't you?"

He gazed at her. "Am I?"

She nodded. "You are."

Spike flicked up his eyebrows at her. "Well, that's new, isn't it?"

"It's all new. In some ways."

"Yeah. Yeah." He traced the line of her jaw. He tried to go on from where he'd been interrupted -

pleasantly interrupted. "So, well, anyway, yeah. A kid. Be kinda nice."

Her voice was soft, edged with a surprising bitterness. "Our kid?"

He nodded again. "Some part of - of whatever we have - to go on. After, you know."

"But you're already immortal."

He rested his knuckles against her cheek. "Yeah, so I am. But after you died, Buffy, I wanted

to walk out into the sunlight and see how far I could get before it was over. I didn't because

I'd promised you I'd look after the Niblet - I mean, Dawn. She doesn't need looking after any

more and - and if anything happened to you...." He looked down for a moment, studying the

thread count in the sheet. "It's just not something I'd thought of before. Not really."

"Proof."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you can call it that." He looked at her. "But not because I want

something to show off to other people. I just - I want something so that I always know I

wasn't dreaming this."

"You're not," she whispered as she pressed against him and brought her mouth to his. She kissed

him, her lips moving against his in slow time. She pulled away, just enough to whisper, "I think

it's... romantic."

He smoothed a hand over her hair. He leaned away and tried to give her a casual look. "Yeah, well, you know...

it's not - not possible."

The darting of his eyes, the way he wouldn't quite meet her own gaze gave him away to her, though.

She rested a hand on his arm and caressed his flesh. "I'm sorry."

He snorted lightly. "For what? Coz, Luv, there was nothing to be-"

"That it's impossible."

Spike's lips twitched for a moment and then he managed a reluctant smile. "Yeah." He looked

at the ceiling.

Next to him, Buffy grinned as she moved her hand to his chest and slid one finger down his

abdomen. Keeping her voice light and teasing, she said, "We could have - you know - proof."

Spike looked at her, desire already clouding his brain. "Yeah? How's that?"

Buffy's smile was positively wicked. "Well, Andrew's got that camera of his."

Spike looked at her for a moment, dumbstruck. Then he started laughing as her shoulders

began to shake. She fell onto her back, still laughing, the sound alive and healthy and good.

Tomorrow they faced the ultimate evil, but tonight it was just the two of them and everything

seemed right with the world. Buffy refused to stop and think about that.

Spike's mouth found hers as his hands began to rove over her, drawing out renewed murmurs of

pleasure and longing. The kiss was long and deep. When Spike pulled away, his lover gasped

for air. Her eyes were dreamy and unfocused and as soon as the ache in her lungs subsided,

she pulled him back to her. This time their mouths opened and their tongues clashed.

All the while, Spike's eager hands and knowing fingers aroused her responsive flesh until it

seemed like her body would combust.

He kissed his way down the column of her throat, feeling the flutter of her pulse. Its frantic

pace excited the man in him; the rush of blood beneath her skin called to the vampire he could

never stop being. As he fought the unholy urging of the demon, she began her own campaign

of distraction. The way she wrapped her fingers around him proved quite successful.

Breathing in shallow gasps, her body writhing, she begged him. "Spike, please. Please."

"Buffy," he groaned. His movements were deft and sure. She cried out almost immediately

as he entered her, reaching a plateau of pleasure close to that of fulfillment. He held her,

covered her face in light kisses and moved within her willing body.

During their liaison of the previous year he had learned how to make her body reach the ultimate

goal time and time again. Now he asked for her soul to join it. He wanted not only to give her

carnal pleasure, but spiritual satisfaction as well. And he wanted those things in return. She

had not disappointed him the first time tonight; she didn't this time.

She dug her nails into his back, moaning his name. Her eyes were not shut, but wide open, staring

into his. He thought he could watch her forever, if destiny allowed him to. As her body's shudders

decreased, he continued his slow, pleasurable thrusts. She shifted beneath him and, wrapping

her legs around his back, drew him more intimately into her.

The sighed in unison - and then giggled.

When he had been William and mortal, Spike had known a few women, streetwalkers all. His joinings

with them had been furtive and brief, bringing little more than a physical release from time to time.

As a vampire he had stamina and strength and a control that no drug or device would ever bestow upon

a mortal. He had always been proud of that, had used it - almost as a weapon, as a reminder to

any woman who bedded him how much control he could exert over her body. With Buffy he only

wanted to use it to enhance their time together. He still had a lot to be proud of.

Her voice, forming actual words instead of grunts or cries, cut through the gloom. Her words

were simple. And they shocked him. "Taste me."

He stopped and looked at her. Her eyes were still wide open and she met his questioning gaze

with a frank one of her own. He shook his head. "Buffy, no. I can't. I wouldn't ask-"

"You didn't ask." Her voice was warm, with a hint of impatience. "I offered. I *am* offering."

"You don't know what you're - what you're offering."

"Yes, I do. I know exactly what I'm offering you, Spike." She licked her lips. "And what I'll get

in return."

Out of reflex, he breathed more rapidly. "Luv...Pet...Buffy... no. It's - It hurts, you see. You,

it hurts. You."

Her eyebrows flicked up. "Only for a moment. And then - then it won't, Spike."

He snorted. "That's the line we vampires tell humans to-"

"It's true."

He looked at her with great confusion. ::How could she know? Oh, yeah. Right.:: He

dodged as she leaned up to kiss him. He shook his head again. "No, Buffy. How can you -

Why would you want to...?"

She gave him a soft, indolent smile, but her eyes flashed with eagerness. "Because then I will

always be a part of you."

He inhaled sharply. His face softened. "You are a part of me, Buffy." He traces her cheek.

"You'll always be in my heart - whatever happens."

She nods. "But I want to be a *part* of you, Spike. I want to be in you. I want to give this

to you. Give myself to you."

"How can you... want that?" He studied her. "Didn't we hurt enough each other - last year?"

"This isn't about pain." She kissed him. "This is about - about - something deeper."

Spike gazed into her eyes, wanting to ask her if it's what he thought it was, but too afraid.

::Do you love me, Buffy? Is that it?:: Instead, his lips curled into a slow smile. He leaned down

and whispered against her ear. "You're sure, Luv?"

"I'm sure."

Looking into her eyes, Spike began to move again. She shifted beneath him, taking him more deeply

into his body. Her breathing grew more rapid and her pleasure rose to a new plateau.

"Spike," she moaned. "Spike."

"Buffy." He pinned her hands with his own.

She curled her fingers around his, twining their hands. Her eyes sparkled with desire and glowed with

passion. She gave him an inviting smile and turned her head, baring her neck.

He looked at her for a moment, saw how vulnerable she was, felt the thudding of her heart,

let her heat and need envelop him. He bent his head, kissed the soft flesh she exposed.

And then, as gently as he could, he pressed bared fangs into her throat. The taut skin resisted

briefly and then gave way. His fangs slipped into the tiny openings.

She gasped and squeezed her fingers against his. The press of his teeth against her turned into

pain, two hot needles of agony penetrating her neck. Her body spasmed and she clutched at him

with her legs.

He tasted the first drops of her blood. A Slayer's blood.

Nectar.

Power.

Dominion.

Death.

Life.

Ecstasy.

Love.

He had never been so dizzyingly in love with any woman as he was with her and as he drew her life force

into him he could have sworn it was enough to make his cold heart beat again. She was

perfect. He had tasted women before as he had them, but never one who had given herself to him.

Her pleasure magnified in her blood, her desire became the purest of honey, her need was like airy, spun

silk. Her cries filled his ears. Even the first one - the one of anguish - had enflamed her. And now,

now that she moaned and writhed, called his name like a litany... her blood, her voice, her body...

eternity.

The pain subsided as quickly as it had risen in her. She felt her blood flowing from the two tiny wounds

he had made, felt him lap at her, knew her body's strength flowed over his lips and into him. Her body

tightened and all she wanted was more, more of him in her, more of him drinking her, more of this

moment. She felt the urgency in him multiply, strengthen as he took from her this gift she offered

so freely. It deepened her own delight.

So the circle flowed around and between them. Her gift a mutual one, his feeding an act that

sustained them both.

He thrust in her more quickly. She wrapped her legs around his back, her heels drumming into

him with each motion. He continued to sip at her, her blood as holy water to a devout man. The

heat and sweetness she gave him wrapped itself around him, fed into him, blazed in every crevice

of his mind.

Her breathing grew short. He made a motion to move his head. She pressed him more firmly

against her, crying out how close she was to another peak.

Together they climbed the heights of passion and crashed in waves of unadulterated pleasure, taking and

giving, rewarding and receiving, joined as one by body and by blood.

Buffy whimpered when Spike withdrew his fangs from her pierced flesh. He whispered a stammered apology,

but she pressed one finger to his lips. "Don't apologize." She met his eyes with a steady look.

"I will never regret that." She ran her hand through his hair. "I will never regret this. Never."

He kissed her again, gently, lovingly. "Never might not be too far off, Luv."

She shrugged. "No. It might be tomorrow. Or - we might win and I'll die in my bed, still not regretting this."

They moved apart. Buffy rolled onto her side and slid into Spike's arms. They gazed in satiated exhaustion

at the patch of moonlight on the floor.

Spike rested his chin on her shoulder. "Thank you, Buffy."

She craned her head back to look at him. "For what?"

He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "For everything, Luv. I'm here because of you."

She snorted. "Being here may get you killed."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But if that happens, then I'll die as a better man than I was ever meant to be before

you."

She turned in his arms and rested her head against her head against his chest. She was quiet for several

moments. Spike thought she had fallen asleep when her voice sounded in the darkness. "Did you take a lot?"

He didn't have to ask what she meant. "No."

"Enough to - to -?"

"To what?" He looked down, growing concerned.

She tilted her head up, let him search her face.

"To turn you?" His voice was incredulous. "No. Of course not, Buffy."

"Good." He started to speak, but she interrupted. "Give me your wrist."

Spike's eyes flared with disbelief - and a measure of horror. "What? Buffy, no!"

"Why not?"

"It's - It's - It's not natural, Pet."

She arched an eyebrow. "And the rest of this is?"

"You know what I mean."

"Spike, what I know is that I'm part of you - forever. You carry me inside you. Right?"

He nodded. "Always."

"I want that. I want you to be a part of me - forever. Whatever happens tomorrow - later today - I

want to know if one of us doesn't make it, we still have this."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm serious. You could say dead serious."

"Please don't."

"Bad pun?"

"The worst."

She nodded. "All right, but Spike, I want this. I want you with me. Always."

The protest died on his lips. With a quick motion he open his wrist. She took it to her lips and drank in

a few salty drops. She had done this in thrall to Dracula and had found his blood broke the

spell. It had revolted her, appalled every sense she had as a Slayer. This time she found only sweetness and

completion. It was only a small amount, but it bound them.

She pulled away and the gash on her lover's wrist closed itself.

Though Spike found it hard to imagine, they slept, her heart beating docilely in her chest, the rhythm

lulling him into slumber. When they woke just before dawn painted the sky shades of pink and

orange, they made love again. Neither said a word.

As they dressed, Buffy turned her face to the sun. "May never see that again."

Spike put his arms around her. "One way or another, Luv, you will." He kissed her neck where, already,

the marks he had made were healed. "One way or another, we've got eternity, Buffy."

END