Title: Rivers (part 11 of NA series)

Author: Nimue Rating: PG -13

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just borrowing.

Summary: Tara has been shot. The threat is upon them. What happens next?

Rivers

Spike and Xander ran through the dusky streets toward Revello Drive. It wasn't complete darkness yet, but Spike had become somehow more tolerant of dawn and dusk since Africa. Everything had been slightly different since then.

"What in bloody hell happened?" Spike asked, as they jogged toward the house.

"I don't know, exactly," Xander ranted, letting the fear come back into his voice. "Willow called, she could hardly talk. She said that Tara had been shot."

"Where was Dawn?" Spike asked.

"Out with the bot. Trying to look normal. Like the plan. Anya went to get her at the mall and take her to your place."

"Who else was in the house?" Spike asked as they turned onto the street, still running.

"Just Will," Xander responded.

Spike skipped up the front steps two at a time, pushing the door open with a bang. Xander followed behind him. They may not have always appreciated each other, but both were glad they were not going into this alone.

"Will?" Xander called from the foyer. "Willow, where are you?" Spike started up the steps to the second floor, Xander following after glancing into both the living and dining rooms, finding them empty. They reached the foyer and turned towards Willow's room.

No one was there. It was absolutely barren. Spike stopped, sniffing something in the air.

"Please don't tell me you are getting hungry," Xander said as Spike wheeled back around toward Buffy's room.

"Gunpowder, you idiot," Spike responded. He turned the corner into Buffy's room and had to step back, horrified at what he saw. Even with all of the terrible things he had seen in his life, that he had done in his life, he could not stomach what was in front of him. Maybe it was because he cared for the good witch. Maybe because needless violence was nothing he ever enjoyed. But this was too much. Tara was lying in Buffy's bed, her hair spread behind her like Sleeping Beauty. There was one, solitary bullet hole in her third eye, the space above and between her eyebrows. The blood had soaked the pillow, the sheet, dripping in thick rivers to the floor. Spike could hear Xander heave behind him, running for the bathroom.

Willow sat beside the bed, holding her lovers hand, sobbing. Spike walked toward the bed, his stomach sinking. This was meant for Buffy. It was Buffy's room, Buffy's bed, Buffy's pillow. Why was Tara even here?

"Willow?" Spike said, touching her shoulder. She jumped, spinning toward him.

"Oh, hi, Spike," she answered with a disconcerting normalcy.

"Did you call an ambulance?" he asked gently.

"They said she was gone," Willow answered simply. "But she's not." Spike was thrown by her frankness. "Someone should be by to pick her up soon."

"Willow, why don't we go downstairs," Spike asked, touching her hand. She tore it from him, heading back to the side of the bed.

"I'm not leaving," she said.

"Ok," Spike answered, trying not to look at Tara. It was killing him to see her like this. It was killing him to know it was supposed to be Buffy.

Xander finally got the nerve to come back into the room. Spike stepped out of the way to let him at Willow. "Will?" he whispered, his hands on her shoulders. "Will, come on, let's go."

"I can't," she sobbed, breaking down. "I can't leave her, she needs me."

"It's OK, Will," he said, pulling her into his chest. She shook, choking on her tears.

"It'll never be OK," Willow responded between sobs. Spike stood helpless watching them. Knowing what Willow felt like. Never wishing it upon even his worst of enemies.

"What happened, Red?" Spike asked. Xander shot him a glance, but let it slide. They needed to know to protect the rest of them.

"I...I was cleaning," Willow sobbed. "I was vacuuming my room. Tara came over and she had a headache..." She could barely speak through the hitching breaths. "So, I told her to go lay down in Buffy's room and I would come check on her when I was finished. I never heard anyone, until I heard the shot."

"Red, did you see who was here?" Spike asked tenderly. Willow was holding onto Xander for dear life.

"It was Warren," she whispered. " I saw him from the window leaving the house."

Xander and Spike exchanged glances. They needed to get Willow to Spike's with the others and take care of this.

"Willow, I want you to come with me now, OK? Spike will stay here with Tara until they come to get her. I'm going to take you to stay with Buffy,'" he crooned, trying to be as soothing as he could in front of the most horrible thing he could imagine.

"I don't want to go near her," Willow hissed, her sadness slowly , palpably changing to anger. The hairs on the back of Spike's neck stood on end. He could feel the room change, her change. "I tried to bring her back, you know," Willow said, suddenly cool, flat, nonplussed. She pulled away from Xander, standing to face Tara. "But a human killed her. Not as easy. Wasted that magic on Buffy."

"Willow," Xander said, a little shocked. "You know you don't mean that."

"Of course, I do." Willow said. "If I had not brought Buffy back, Tara would not have died. That bullet was for Buffy. She should've taken it."

Xander's eyes were wide with horror. Spike's head was cocked, listening, trying to figure out where Willow was going. Whether this was the delusional rambling of someone who had just seen the worst thing in their short life, or someone with a potentially dangerous chip on their shoulder. Either way, no one was taking Red back to his crypt or anywhere near his Slayer until she calmed down a bit.

"Willow, Buffy did not choose to come back, we brought her against her will," Xander said softly, his shaking hand on her back. Willow softened a bit, calming, regaining control.

" I know", she whispered. Red was slowly coming back. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, breaking down again in Xander's arms. "It was my fault."

There was a knock on the door downstairs. Spike excused himself, trying to run from the odd feeling he was getting from the remaining witch and from the sight of Tara lying there like a helpless, slaughtered lamb. And he was the evil one for so long. Spike let the morgue official in silently and slipped into the shadows on the corner of the porch. He pulled a cigarette from a crumpled pack and lit it, sucking hard until the tip was glowing red in the dusk. Willow had calmed some, but what she had said had made an itch right at the base of Spike's neck. Something was not right. He wasn't about to take even the slightest chance with the safety of Buffy and his child. Xander would have to stow Willow elsewhere.

It seemed forever before the slick black bag rolled out of the house on the cold steel stretcher. Spike watched it go by like some macabre parade, wincing thinking of the sweet, beautiful young girl inside. When he thought about it, he was about her age when he died. But he did not die like this.

Xander and Willow followed the gurney out. Red was so tiny against him. She was blank. Devoid of expression, of anything, just numb. Xander stopped on the porch as Willow followed Tara down the steps like a bridesmaid in a wedding gone awry.

"Spike, I'm going to go with her to the morgue and .. help her." "Right, good thing to do, " Spike answered, tossing his cigarette into the bushes. "She needs you right now."

"I will bring her back to your place when we are done,"

Xander responded, beginning to walk away. Spike laid a hand on Xander's shoulder. "You need to take her somplace else," Spike said.

Xander looked shocked at first. "But Buffy is her best friend. You said Willow needed us."

Spike thought carefully for a moment, looking the frightened boy over. "You're right," he finally said, "But to be honest with you, I don't think Red is quite... right.. at the moment."

"Of course she's not Right. Her lover just died. You say you know how that feels," Xander snapped.

Spike fought to control his patience. " I do know how that feels," Spike said slowly, "But you heard what she said inside. Do you want to take the chance that she might get a little dodgy and take out Buffy and her child?"

Xander studied Spike's face. He saw something he did not think he had ever seen before in the vamp's pale features. Fear. Spike was genuinely afraid. Afraid for Buffy. Afraid for all of them.

"I'll take her back to my place," Xander replied, touching Spike's shoulder, "then I will meet up with you and the rest of the gang at the Magic Box. I'll call Anya when I am on the way."

"We need to deal with Warren," Spike said, becoming angry again.

"*WE* do. Wait for us. Go check on Buffy," Xander called out, taking off down the stairs.



To be contd

Title: Visitation (Pt 12 of NA)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Yes, please

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing

Summary: Tara has been shot. The Scoobies try to decide where to go from here....

Visitation

The silence was deafening. It was more quiet than any five people should be able to generate. They sat around the familiar table in the Magic Box, staring down at the wood grain as if all the answers to the meaning of life and death were contained in the molecules of timber. The silence covered them like a blanket. They had lost their collective conscience.

Finally, Anya spoke up. " I called Giles," she said, tapping her fingers on the table. The sound pierced the blanket like a stake ripping through flesh.

"Good, honey," Xander replied, putting his hand on hers. He had to stop the drumming.

"Is he coming?" Buffy asked, her voice measured, steady. Her eyes were tired and wet.

"He said tomorrow," Anya answered, still trying to drum under Xander's palm. Her foot began to tick under the table when she realized her hand was silenced.

"Good," Buffy replied in the same careful tone. " How's Will?" she asked, turning her eyes to Xander.

"A doctor at the hospital gave her a sedative. She's asleep on my couch," Xander answered, letting his fingers twine gratefully through Anya's soft hand. " But we should be getting back soon."

"I should go," Buffy said, staring at her clasped hands. Spike visibly tensed, but said nothing. Xander remembered his look on the porch. Xander understood the look.

"Buff, you need to stay here," Xander answered. "I'll take care of Willow. Warren was...is... looking for you. You are better off here."

"But Willow needs me," Buffy said, trying to be strong. Ignoring the gnawing fear in the base of her skull.

"Buffy, stay here, " Dawn pleaded, her eyes tearing again. Both Summers girls stared over at Spike.

Spike thought for a moment, fingers tracing the edges of the mug in front of him. "I think you're better off here, Pet," he finally said, "but it's your choice."

Buffy sat thoughtfully for a moment. "Can you bring her by tomorrow?" she directed at Xander in the same measured voice.

Xander glanced over at Spike. "Let's see what she's up for," Xander answered carefully. Spike's shoulders relaxed. Buffy was silent.

"What do we do about Warren?" Anya asked. They were all silent again. This wasn't some supernatural demon. This was just a very evil man.

Spike spoke up. "I've put some ears out for him. But we have other things to deal with first. I'll take care of it." Buffy shot over a concerned glance ,then realized she was too tired to fight.

"What about the funeral?" Dawn asked.

"It's taken care of," Xander said softly, touching Dawn's soft hand. "Day after tomorrow." Dawn just started to cry. Spike instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"I think we've all had enough," Spike said, cradling the younger Summers against his chest.

"We'd better get back to Willow," Xander stood and pulled out Anya's chair. She rose quietly. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," Buffy answered, turning her attention back to Dawn and Spike.

"Slayer, I need to patrol a while," Spike began once the room was empty save for the three of them.

"Let me come with," Buffy pleaded. Spike nodded over at the sobbing girl under his wing.

"Think you and Niblet could use some rest," he said softly, standing and pulling Dawn to her feet. Buffy followed quietly as he took them back through the tunnels to the crypt.

"I'll be back, Love, " he whispered, brushing his lips against Buffy's. She took Dawn against her and nodded. Not the night to fight.

*****

It was as if even the creatures of the night were mourning the loss of the good witch, Spike thought as he walked about the desolate graveyard. Not a vampire, a demon, not even a mouse. It was silent. He was a creature of the night, really, even if he tried to fool himself into thinking he was a man. And he was missing Tara already.

Spike had walked in lazy circles for an hour, not seeing anything out of place. The silence spread throughout the night. It was about time to go home. Spike needed her tonight. Needed to know she was alright. 'Something wicked this way comes', he thought, as he headed toward the crypt. And we will be in the center of the storm.

"Spike?" he heard as he approached the front entrance. Spike reeled around at the sound of the woman's voice. He knew Buffy's every sound. This was not her.

"Spike?" he heard again. He wheeled the opposite direction. There she was. Standing next to a granite angel. Light, serene, and pretty.

"Tara?" he asked, walking toward the monument. She glistened, shimmered in the moonlight. He sniffed the air and tasted nothing.

"Hi, Spike," Tara said, shyly.

"But you're..."

"So are you," she retorted, smiling. He could not help but return it. Slowly, his smile turned to a pained grimace.

"You weren't....turned?" Spike asked, craning his head to look at her neck.

"No," she whispered with the same serene smile. "This is just my....spirit."

"So your witchy stuff even works upstairs, girl?" Spike chided. Tara chuckled in response.

"Guess so," she answered.

"What brings you back here?" he asked, his eyes mesmerized by her silvery glow.

"I needed to tell you something."

"Me? Why?" he asked, incredulous. "Shouldn't you be whispering sweet nothings to your lady friend?"

Tara's face when blank. Spike shuddered imperceptibly at the change. "Spike, something's coming," she continued, all humour gone from her voice. "You feel it. You know it."

He nodded cautiously. "Something wicked this way comes," he muttered.

"It could end you all," Tara spoke, her tone utterly even.

"Who could? What?"

"That is not mine to give," she replied, blinking slowly. But he saw something cross her face. A shadow of her former self. Darkness.

"Can you help us?" he asked, admitting his fright to himself, swallowing it like fire. He had been afraid more since Buffy had let him into her life than he had in the previous 120 years of his existence. Fear did not sit well with him.

"You can stop it," Tara answered. "Only you. You have to drain it almost dry."

"Tara, I don't...I won't..." Spike sputtered.

"To save them, you will have to drain it, Spike. And you will have to journey. What happens then is out of my realm."

"I don't understand...." Spike said, completely dazed by her shining, dancing..

"Bye, Spike," she whispered, pushing up onto her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. "See ya round."

She was gone.

He stopped a moment, trying to drink it in. 'You're mad', he muttered to himself, starting back toward the crypt. "Bloody Hell."

*****

Spike crept through the door, only to find the Slayer and her sister on the couch, the telly flickering softly in the background. Dawn was sound asleep with her head in Buffy's lap. Buffy's fingers lazily smoothed her sister's hair.

When the door opened and clicked shut, Buffy craned around her tired, knotted neck. He stood still in the doorway, staring at her beautiful face peeking up above the back of the sofa. Holding that face in his mind. Watching her watching him. Time was short.

Spike walked to the couch, silently scooping Dawn into his arms and carrying her down to her bed. Buffy followed, watching him, smiling softly as he tucked the teenager into her bed and brushed her tear-matted hair from her cheeks. Slowly, he turned back to Buffy, taking her hand, leading her back to his room. His bed. Their bed.

"Spike, you alright?" Buffy asked. He had not said a word. She began to slip out of her sweater, her pants. He sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. She came to him, only in her little lace tank top and pretty pink panties. Spike rested his hands on her hips, studying her. Her big hazel eyes, her pretty coral lips, her graceful neck, the hollow of her throat, her beautiful chest, the gentle rise of her belly, her strong, smooth legs. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. For all he had right now, this moment, may not be the same for long. He believed Tara. He knew she was right. The perfect world he had finally made may soon disappear. As long as he could keep Buffy, he could live with it.

"Spike?" Buffy asked again, leaning down to kiss his lips. Hers were warm, sweet, soft against him.

"Yes, Love?" He was trying not to let his voice betray him.

"You OK?" she queried, her warm hand brushing against his cheek.

"Everything's fine," he said, smiling up at her. She grinned back. He still loved that he could make her do that. "One thing though?"

"What?" she asked, climbing onto the bed, straddling his denim clad knees.

"Can we start off in the same bed tonight?" he asked.

"I was going to ask if it was alright if I stayed here," she answered, rocking back on her heels, sitting on his knees. Spike ran his hands over her shoulders, her arms, her tiny hands.

"Please," Spike said, leaning back onto the bed, pulling her down with him. He cradled her against him, her head nestled under his chin. "Buffy?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yes," she answered, nestling closer, her leg thrown over his waist.

"I'll always be with you," Spike said, kissing her forehead tenderly.

"I'm glad," Buffy answered, her hands lazily brushing over his chest. "I don't think I would like it much without you."

He couldn't stop the tears.

To be contd..

Title: Things Change

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Yes, please

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc.. Just borrowing.

Summary: Giles is back in town. The Sunnydale he returns to is nothing he expected..

Things Change.

Some days feel like they pass in seconds. Some feel like years. The day after Tara's murder had felt like both.

Giles had arrived in the afternoon, coming straight to the Magic Box. Buffy had never really realized how many things had changed since he had left her, until he walked through the door. Anya had closed the shop. Xander had brought a near catatonic Willow by for what seemed like silent seconds. Dawn was curled in a corner like a lost kitten. Buffy was feeling her pregnancy and the weight of not being able to save the day when it counted. And Spike was the one trying to hold it all together. Things had changed a lot.

Buffy watched him walk through the door, his eyes wide, taking it all in. She had been sitting on the steps to the loft, Spike behind her, his arms draped over her shoulders. Spike had been more clingy than normal since Tara's death. She usually was more guarded about him being affectionate in front of the others. But she had craved his clinging in these last days.

Buffy rose to greet Giles, not knowing what to say. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her. Willow had told him about what had happened. About the glitch in the cosmic continuum. He had not completely believed her. Until now. The guilt seized him like a vice. Not only had he left his charge to face her life alone, he had left her so desperate that she had taken up with a vampire. With Spike. And now she would bear the devil's child.

She was caught. Buffy saw the horror on Giles's face. To look at her was disgraceful to him. She stood, staring, unable to speak. The tears began to flow.

"Watcher," Spike addressed Giles, standing and descending the stairs, taking his place next to Buffy. He could smell her fear like a fading perfume.

"Spike," Giles replied, forcing himself to nod politely. Anya and Dawn were silent. An audience to the awkward show.

Buffy said nothing, tears streaking down her cheeks. Hormones, she thought, stay strong.

Giles approached her slowly, setting his case on the table. "Buffy?" he uttered, stopping a few short feet from her tiny body.

"Hello, Giles," she replied as calmly as she could. Spike bristled, waiting.

Now was not the time, Giles thought. He leaned down, pulling the girl to him, hugging her, listening to her cry softly into his shirt. "There there," he said, stroking her hair. "No worries."

"You hate me now," Buffy whispered. Spike was silent, looking at the watcher, waiting for his reply.

"Heavens no, Buffy," Giles answered. "Everything is just...different. We'll adjust."

Spike nodded at Giles, accepting the answer. Giles released the teary-eyed girl from the embrace. Instinctively, Buffy stepped back next to Spike.

"So," Giles began," Shall we sit down and catch up?"

"Right," Spike said, accepting Giles would not upset her more for the time being. "I'm going back to the crypt for a while. You be alright, Pet?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling up at him. Damn her eyes, he thought. She could tell him anything and he would be too lost in her to notice.

******

"I failed you," Giles said from his perch on the bench in the training room. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Nah, no failing," Buffy answered, sitting heavily next to him. Some days her baby was cooperative. Others, Spike's kid reeked havoc on her. Today was the latter.

"I did, Buffy," Giles said, clasping his hands together with a slap. "I left you alone when you needed me the most. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I had to let you grow up."

"In some ways you did, " she answered, "do the right thing, I mean. It hasn't be pretty, but we've made it."

Giles looked at her closely. "Buffy," he began," Tara is dead. You and your sister are living underground. Willow is... no longer Willow. And don't get me started on Xander and Anya."

"Tara was murdered, Giles. By a man, not a demon." Buffy could feel the tears slip silently from the corners of her eyes again. " We can fight demons, but we have no control over men."

Giles thought for a moment, wiping his glasses. It was almost as if he could not think without the action.

"That is true, Buffy, and I am sorry."

"She would've died even if you were here," Buffy stated simply. Giles was astounded. He had come here to offer her comfort, but she was the one consoling him. Maybe she had grown up.

"But I still failed you," he said, tentatively.

Buffy was silent; knowing there was a point. Knowing where this was going. She had to face it some time.

"I left you," Giles continued, staring at his feet, " and you felt so alone that you turned to your enemy for comfort. To punish yourself, am I right?"

Again, Buffy answered with silence. That was how it began. She nodded in agreement.

" I can understand that on some level. Had I been here, though, I would've been able to stop..this.. before there was...irreversible damage," Giles said, looking at Buffy's face, her swollen belly, back to her face.

Buffy felt anger. Complete and total fury igniting her blood. She waited a moment, trying to think, to remember how she had felt in the beginning. Her confusion, her fear, her torment. Giles did not know everything. She had to try and stay calm.

"Actually, I've kind of taken to calling the *damage*, my child," she responded, trying to temper her anger. The dance had begun. Giles was taken aback. He had expected her to be resentful, reproachful, only going through with this because she could not bring herself to kill what was inside of her. Giles had never expected her to be accepting of her predicament.

"Buffy, I.." the watcher stuttered.

"A lot has changed," Buffy interrupted, "and I don't have the energy to explain it all today. But Spike is not the demon you once knew. He is no more William the Bloody than I am a normal girl. He doesn't feed. He doesn't harm humans and he has no chip to force him to be that way."

Giles blinked, swallowing hard. He had not known about the chip. "All he has done is try to protect us. Not just Dawn and me. All of us. It took me a long time to accept it. I still haven't completely. But he loves me, Giles."

"He has no soul," Giles retorted. Back to the rulebook. "He cannot love."

"That garbage," Buffy snapped, standing up. The anger was rising again like mercury in the heat of the sun. "He loves better than I ever will. And about the whole soul thing.. you know, I just don't get it. Warren has a soul. He shot Tara in cold blood thinking it was me. Spike doesn't, but he takes care of us, watches us. Not sure if I buy the whole soul makes you good, no soul makes you evil, argument anymore."

Giles was wide eyed, staring at the girl pacing in front of him like a lioness guarding her cub. "Buffy, I don't mean to judge you."

"I know," Buffy replied, letting a long slow breath escape her lungs, "but you are judging. And you have no right."

"I don't suppose I do," Giles answered, his eyes falling back to the floor.

"Look," Buffy began, settling back down onto the bench next to him. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know this is a lot. It's a lot for all of us. None of it is normal. But since when has Buffy Summers ever qualified as 'normal girl of the month'." Giles had to smile. Some things never changed. "The thing is," she continued," until Tara died, I had actually felt...happy... for the last few months. The gang was still here, still together. Dawn was actually listening to me, well, actually to Spike, and had started to come around. And even though the timing was bad and the father is a fangy, evil vampire, I get to have a baby. Never thought that would happen."

"No," Giles said, resting his hand on her knee, " most slayers never have that opportunity."

"I know." Buffy was steeling herself against what she knew was true. That good ole Slayer expiration date. "Spike is really happy. I know I may not be around to raise her, but I trust Spike will never let her down."

"It's a girl, then?" Giles asked, raising his eyes to hers.

"We don't know. Guess it is just a feeling. Kind of steering clear of too many doctors. The whole vampire/slayer physiology thing. But I don't really need to know." Buffy's hand was on her stomach. She was missing Spike. She could feel it in her veins. She could feel him in her.

"You alright?" Giles asked, watching her drift away.

"Fine," she answered bringing herself back. "Hey, if it helps you sleep at night, the baby has a heartbeat. Not a total demon, at least."

"You've heard it?"

"Spike told me," she answered simply. " He can hear us all the time."

Giles was silent. He had not readied himself for the Slayer actually loving the Vampire. Tolerating, working with, even suffering through an accidental pregnancy, but Giles had not been prepared for the simple fact that they were in love. That they were happy. That the baby was a blessing to them, rather than a curse. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pang of jealousy. Spike had taken care of her, watched out for the Slayer, taught her, trained at her side, kept her, and gave her a family. None of which Giles could do.

"Buffy, I am happy for you," he said, finally looking at the girl. In some strange way, it was the truth. She answered with a glowing smile. One he had never seen. He had failed her. Spike had not.

*****

When Spike returned in the early evening, Giles took his leave, taking Dawn with him. He used the excuse that Dawn needed a solid meal and a change of scenery, but really he thought that Buffy needed some time alone. Some time with Spike. If he could not accept this was happening, he could at least transcend his own opinion for the sake of the older Summers girl.

The Magic Box emptied. Spike watched Buffy punching the hanging bag until he thought her hands might shatter. He couldn't bring himself to spar with her now. She tore into the faded leather, beating out her frustration, her upset, her fear, her anger. Blow after blow rained on the bag, and as she fought, her tears rained down her cheeks. He had to let her go. As much as he hated to see it, he had to let her work through it and just be there when she was too tired to fight.

Finally, she stopped, standing there, staring at the bag. Watching it swing slowly on the chain, still reeling from the momentum of her blows. Slowly, Spike walked to her. The blows had stopped, but the tears still drizzled down her warm cheeks. He wrapped his arms around her, her back pressed to his chest. "Did you want to talk about it?" he asked her, his voice so soothing in her ears.

"Nah," she said, " just felt like killing something."

"I think the bag is now quite dead," Spike said, kissing the top of her head. She giggled, pushing herself back against him. "Want to patrol with me?"

"Yessss.." she responded in that sexy little voice of hers.

"Then off we go." Spike started out the back door into the night, his Slayer in tow. They walked the night together, as they always had. She did not say much, but he could feel Buffy's contentment being true to her nature. It was hard on her to be the protected one. Harder still to be stuck in a body that would not function has she wished it would. Not that she ever complained. But he knew that Buffy longed for the fray. Not that much longer.

They walked for an hour and saw very little. Spike thought about going to find a vamp somewhere just to give her something to do, but decided to just let fate take it's course. No need to find danger where it did not belong. Buffy seemed happy just to be hunting. She was more like him than she thought.

"Are we still on the Hellmouth?" Buffy was being snarky. He loved that.

"I believe so, Pet."

"Where are all the creepy crawlies, then? What, they all on spring break?"

He chuckled. "That itchy for the old rough and tumble?" he asked.

"Very itchy. All itchy like" Spike grabbed her wrist, pulling her over to him. Everything about her made him crazy. "Think I can scratch it for you, Slayer?" he asked, diving down, his lips touching her neck, his human teeth scraping her skin. Her eyes closed and her head fell back, a happily little mewl escaping her lips.

"Itchy, scratch," she muttered, his mouth finding hers. "Much scratching."

Spike picked her up, carrying back to the crypt, kicking the door open with a resounding bang and back to closed with nearly as much force. He could not force his mouth from hers. Once they connected, it was always as if a locomotive was speeding out of control and would not stop until it collided with its target.

Buffy was warm and alive in his arms. He yearned to feel that alive. They never made it back to the bed. By the time they had reached the couch, he could not take another moment of her soft breath and warm body against him. Every part of him needed her. Craved her. And she took him willingly. Spike made love to her all night. Every moment. What started out as something ferocious and desperate, turned into something so tender that his heart cracked thinking that one day he would have to live without her. Not today, though.

It was almost daybreak when she finally fell asleep against him. Spike listened to the two sets of heartbeats next to him, drumming like soft rain in his mind. Gentle and quiet and beautiful and kind. This is what would always be with him. Whatever might happen, whatever might become of them, this would be what he would remember when he thought of happiness.

to be contd.

Title: The Long Kiss Goodbye (part 14 of NA)