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The Subtle Notes In-Between by Schehrezade
 
Chapter One
 
Life was short.

Especially if you were a Slayer.

Well, any Slayer but her. She had friends who seemed determined to drag her kicking and screaming back to life-- either by CPR or magicks.

Life was brutal, especially if you were a Slayer. Life was harsh, especially if you were a Slayer.

Life was cruel, especially it you were a Slayer.

Life was ironic, especially if you were Buffy Anne Summers - the First Slayer. The one that all the newbies had been drawn from by Willow’s spell-casting that fateful day in the Hellmouth. When she had lost him, when he had denied her love.

This was all she could think as she stared down at his slumped form.

The normally bright blond hair was now daubed with various different colours of blood. His beautiful high cheekbones mashed beyond recognition. A flicker of pure fury vied for a place in her heart alongside the elation that he was back, the despair that he hadn't come to her, the betrayal that he had stayed with Angel and fought with him and not sought her out.

Almost like a rainbow, she thought irreverently, the situation too serious for any kind of silliness. Buffy squatted next to Spike's still form and ran her fingers through his curly hair, her sharp eyes missing nothing. The coat was new. She’d known the other on a visceral level-- the small tear in the collar that he had never fixed. It was one her own fingers had created as she had tugged him round to face her so she could kiss him one night when they had been patrolling. He had teased her about it and refused to mend it-- he had called it a precious memory.

Always the romantic, her vampire. A small smile tickled at the corners of her mouth. The worn patches on the elbows were all gone. No, she knew it, this was a replacement coat. Buffy wondered what had happened to his original duster. Her hazel eyes took note of the blood pouring from the deep cut on his cheekbone and her full mouth firmed in anger.

She was wasting time bemoaning the loss of his coat when her Spike was hurt and in danger. Now wasn't the time. Now was a time to stand your ground against the demon hoards. Stand over fallen lovers and their friends and fight tooth and nail against the hordes of darkness.

She had thought it was all over - that their final song had been sung in the collapsing Hellmouth. She had left him to burn, with a fumbled attempt of declaring her feelings, only to be rebuffed by him. Spike had hurt her with his rejection of her heartfelt words. Stupid vampire! She stood and straddled his body, ready to fight. All around her she could hear her girls fighting against the throngs of demons that W & H had decided to send to the apocalyptic party Angel had rashly decided to throw in downtown LA.

Buffy didn't spare a glance for her former, who was still fighting a rather large lizardytype thing. ‘So not a dragon!’ She'd seen dragons in Italy and they where HUGE and more often than not, friendly. Paolo had taken her to meet some of the gorgeous beasts; he'd saved a nest of Dragons a while back and was now an honorary member of the clan of Draco-Imperialise.

Buffy grinned at the thought of Paolo, or as he was known to all and sundry The Immortal. He had been a surprise. All she'd ever heard about him in the nightclubs in Rome was, 'Ohhh he's so sexy and such a great lover!' Buffy had been positive he'd make a pass at her the moment they met. But instead, he'd taken her hand and looked deep into her eyes, smiled and then nodded.

The first words out of his mouth had been sooo not what she'd thought he'd say. "Finally, a friend I can rely on." And that had been it. The two of them had been inseparable from that moment on. With Paolo there was no ‘if you're my friend, then what do I get out of the situation? If we become buddies, then do we move from school geek to friend of a Slayer and help hinder ‘save the day’? Well save the day sometimes, but most of the time get in the way and make it worse. Even better, be the cause of the next apocalypse. Or even better again, become moral judge and jury on her life.’

Buffy dodged the meaty fist that swung at her and slammed a stake through the vamp that had attacked her . She could hear Dawn's voice and see her little sister's patented eyeroll. 'Wow, bitter much Buffy.'

As Buffy fought, her mind was on the surprising events of the past year. The last year in Rome with Dawn, Andrew and Paolo had been a revelation, the four of them becoming a close unit of friends and family. So unlike anything else she had ever experienced.

Her relationship with Dawn had never been better, and Dawn had blossomed in Rome. Going to school and graduating with high honours and was now starting at the American university in Rome. Buffy had been so proud of her baby sister. She, Andrew and Paolo had stood, cheered and applauded as they watched the tall girl graduate. She knew that Spike would be pissed he'd missed so much of Dawnie's life.

Andrew was still a nerd, but he was rapidly becoming a good guy. Once he had realised that being a Watcher wasn't for him, and he had stopped with the tweed wearing and answering to Giles, he had become a friend. It also helped that he had finally fallen in love and the love was reciprocated.

Giles and the others had been conspicuous in their absence at Dawn's big day. But then again, since leaving the ruins of Sunnydale they had barely been in touch with each other.

Xander had disappeared the first night and had never been heard of again. They had all been staying in a cheap motel that night recovering from the battle and Buffy had heard a noise. She remembered going to the door of her and Dawn's room and watching Xander walk away without a backward glance. She had known instinctively not to try and stop him. Her Xander-shaped friend had done enough... lost enough, an eye and then the love of his life, Anya. It was time to let him go and hope that one day he'd come and find her and they could find a common ground again. When the others-- in particular Willow-- had found his bed unslept in and Xander gone, it had been chaos. And it was also the beginning of the end.

Xander had in a sense been the glue that held them together. The one who was friend to all and the anchor of the group. His absence left a gaping hole that couldn't be filled.

Buffy remembered the fight with Willow, with a sneering Kennedy in the background. Buffy had been adamant that the redhead didn't use magic to locate Xander and to let him be. Reasoning with her that if indeed he was her bestfriend then she should let him go, let him heal and when he was ready, Xander would come back. As someone who had just lost the 'one', Buffy understood all too well how Xander needed some time to just be alone and heal.

Willow had tried the wobbly lower lip and then when Buffy wouldn't cave, had stopped and actually listened to what she had to say.

Finally she’d nodded and agreed with Buffy. It was time to let Xander go. The small redhead had ushered her shrieking and belligerent, newly Slayered girlfriend out of the room with an apologetic smile. Buffy had never been happier to see anyone leave the following week when Willow had taken Kennedy away and headed for South America. She and Wills still called each other now and then, but more often than not, Willow was in contact with Giles.

Buffy's face darkened at the thought of her erstwhile Watcher who had taken it upon himself to re-establish the stuffy tweed shirt brigade of wannabe Slayer bosses. She pulled her drinking face at the memory of her final call with Giles. They had never really recovered their relationship, how could you?

First he'd dumped her and run away to England, claiming she needed to grow up. Yeah, she did! But she also needed a watcher, someone with the know-how to fight the creatures that go bump in the night. But he'd gone as soon as she'd gotten yanked out of Heaven, and then when he had come back, he'd been weird. Then in that final year he'd turned up with Kennedy and the other two potentials. Buffy stuck her lower lip out. 'Man, it was all Giles's fault Kennedy had turned up, he’s the FE!'

Another black mark in his book, one to add to the massive big black and underlined over and over one marked in there. It read:' I hooked up with nut job Robin Wood and tried to kill the guy who in the end saved the world'. Buffy smiled at the irony of it all. If Giles and Robin had succeeded and killed Spike, then the world would have been overrun with Turok Han and the First Evil would have won.

When they finally went their separate ways, Buffy had no problems taking the massive monthly salary Giles offered and moved to Rome with Dawn-- and for some reason, Andrew decided to follow her. Even though he played at being a Watcher now and then, luckily he had recently grown out of it.

Buffy spun around, dodging an axe and then yanked the same axe from the slimey Chaos demon's hands and with a back slice, cut her attacker's head off. The antlered head clattered to the ground as the body fell backwards. With a jubilant shout, Buffy stepped back over Spike's body and tossed the axe from hand to hand. Silently daring the rapidly dwindling minions of hell to come and get her. Her lips peeled back in a feral snarl that would've done Spike proud and she bounced on the balls of her feet, ready for her next attacker.

In the distance she could see the blue skinned woman fighting an ork-shaped demon and was batting it around as if it were a whiffle ball. Angel was still struggling with the lizard and was unaware that backup in the form of Paolo and his employees were here and helping to turn the tide of battle.

Paolo had mentioned the whole chaining up of Angelus and Spike and screwing Darla and Dru incident, and yuck! He also told her about the blustering vamps trying to get into his club and pick a fight, only to be turned away by the doorman. Buffy grinned at the sight of two quarters of the Scourge of Europe being bounced! 'Man, she was gonna bug Spike about that when they got home!'

Her eyes widened as worry filled her. What if he didn't want to come home with her? He'd never called or anything. What if he'd moved on? Buffy's narrowed as she glared at the blue string bean. 'Was that his new girl? Ewww, she better not be! If Spike had touched that weird looking demoness thingy the he was going to be immersed in sheep dip! Maybe she should slice and dice her and blame it on the heat of battle? Nahhh, I can't do that! It wouldn’t be right!' She chewed her lower lip in anxiety, not missing a beat as she fought the demon attacking her. Her confidence in battle not showing the emotional mess she was in mentally. Buffy tried not to be jealous of the blue woman fighting stoically, but she was, she’d been near Spike for the past year and Buffy ached all over. Spike was hers no one else’s.

There was a sickening squelchy thud and a severed arm landed in front of Buffy.

'Huh, guess vamps arms don't dust when they get chopped off!' Buffy thought irreverently as she stared in shock at Angel's right arm. Then she blanched and stared up at the idiot who had started this fight. Angel was even paler than normal but still hacking away at the flying lizard with his remaining arm. Blood poured from the stump soaking Buffy's upturned face and Spike's body. She squinted through the red haze and then threw the axe straight up and into the lizard demon's heart. Killing it with one blow.

"Uh oh!" Buffy squeaked. The corpse was plummeting towards them with Angel clinging to its neck. Buffy reached down, grabbed Spike's limp body and ran as fast as she could. Leaping over demon corpses and trying not to slip in the pools of blood that were mixing together in a psychedelic mess, Buffy ran as fast as she could with Spike on her back.

There was a squishy splat and then she heard Paulo yell ‘duck’. Buffy hit the ground and covered Spike's body with hers.

There was am almighty bang and then a ball of fire rolled over her back and kept going. Burning everything in its path. Demons were incinerated-- both alive and dead.

The lizard demon was doing a heck of a clean up job in its demise.
 
Chapter Two
 


Spike kept his eyes shut and sniffed the air. It was a mixture of hospital smells and burnt hair. He reached up and checked his head-- his hair was there but his eyebrows were gone!

"It's still there and looking a bit curly," a deep male voice announced, causing Spike to reluctantly open his eyes.

"YOU!" Spike bellowed and tried to get up.

"Me," The Immortal replied with a grin. He leant forward and cupped his chin in his hands and watched as the vampire tried to crawl up the wall and away from him.

"YOU?" Spike realised that the nit was probably the reason he was here and alive. "Bugger me." Spike slumped back against the pillows and glared petulantly at the smirking man.

"Lovely offer and if it weren't for the Slayer, I would take you up on it!" Paolo replied ambiguously. Unable to resist teasing the vampire a bit for all the sorrow he had put his friend through, not to mention the foolishness of taking on the Black Thorn and pulling them all into the battle.

Spike lurched forward and grabbed Paolo around the throat, trying to throttle him.

"Spike! You're awake!" An excited and very familiar female voice trilled from the doorway. "Why are you doing that? You know Paolo's immortal, right? He can’t die, doofus!"

The ridges on Spike's face shifted and azure chased amber out of his eyes-- unknowingly in his anger Spike had vamped. He let go and turned to face his goddess. "Buffy? What happened to your hair?"

Her hand shot up to the back of her head and she blushed bright red. Her usually long hair was now cut about an inch long all over and was rumpled from her running her fingers through it, while she had sat by his side and worried at least ten years off her life. Her lower lip jutted out miserably.

"Cara Mia, don't fret. You look so beautiful, it's so chic!" Paolo leapt gallantly to his feet and managed to forestall another bout of tears and hysterics. It had been hard enough cutting her hair and trying to style it; there was barely anything for him to work with once they had managed to put the flames out. But the two of them had managed to salvage as much of her hair as possible, and in his opinion, she looked just like Mia Farrow with her famous urchin haircut In other words, androgenous and stunning!

"Goldilocks." Spike stared at Buffy in shock. She looked so small without her crowning glory. But the git was right and that really chaffed his willy. The Immortal pain in his arse was right, she looked gorgeous.

"That's all you have to say?" Buffy stomped over and kicked the hospital bed hard and glared at the now penitent vampire. "No, I missed you? Sorry I didn't come and find you or at the very least call you! Or hey, even better, what about saying thanks for saving my skinny white ass AGAIN!" Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, unconsciously pushing her breasts up.

Spike stared at the succulent mounds and tried very hard not to whimper.

"Are you staring at my breasts?" Buffy's voice rose to a higher pitch.

"Cara, I think he is not what you say? Functioning on all cylinders?" Paolo sauntered up and placed a calming hand on his friend's tense shoulder. He knew that her emotions were getting the better of her and he had to help. All those nights they had spent curled around each other on her couch talking about Spike and what she had lost were going to result in nothing if she staked Spike.

"Firing," Buffy supplied absently as she glared at Spike. "And Spike FYI, the new do is because I was saving you and Angel."

"Did Peaches make it?" Spike surprised himself by asking.

"Sorta." Buffy walked over and pulled back the curtain next to Spike's bed to reveal what was left of Angel.

Spike's eyes widened at the sight of his one-armed Grandsire who was covered in burns and missing large patches of his much treasured hair. He looked like he had mange and had been dipped in cooking oil and set fire to. Spike stared at the mess and then frowned. "Hang about!"

"Yeah, he's alive." Buffy gestured at the bleeping machines and the ventilator that was helping Angel to breath. The expression on her face was neutral, unreadable.

"Alive?" Spike echoed glumly. "Right." He sank back into the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The bastard had Shanshued and despite the makeover from hell, he'd get Buffy and they could live happily ever after. Well as long as Buffy did the opening of jars and stuff. He slammed his eyes shut. Damned if he was going to break down and cry like a baby in front of the Immortal or Peaches. Buffy, yes he could cry in front of her...but not two of his greatest competitors. The humiliation would be too much-- worse than anything Angelus could have ever dreamt up in the past.

He rubbed his face with his hands, and then froze. "What bloody soddin hell happened to my eyebrows?" He ran his fingers over and over and found nothing but the indent where his scar was. The one branded on him by the Chinese Slayer.

"Umm, they got burned off," Buffy supplied hesitantly. Her soft gaze was riveted on his face, in her opinion-- despite the missing eyebrows—he was still very handsome, albeit a bit pink from the bridge of his nose upwards.

"Wot did you do? Shave em off when I was out for the count?" Not hearing her quiet confession, Spike jabbed an angry finger at Paolo, who by know was giggling loudly at Spike's antics.

"Hey." Buffy stomped her foot and smacked Spike's feet, "Paolo wouldn't do that! It's my fault...I...I'm too short! I couldn't cover all of you!" She glared at Spike, "don't you dare laugh!"

Spike deflated in front of them, guilt coloured his eyes and his soul shone through brightly. "Oh luv, m'sorry." He stared at her with wide eyes and mentally berated himself for acting like a petulant child. She had risked life, limb and hair for him and all he could do was pout over his eyebrows.

Buffy flew to the bedside and tentatively ran her fingers over his face, tracing the familiar lines of it and recommitting them to memory. She ran her fingertips over the place where his black brows should've been and let her index finger repeatedly trace the lines of his scar. Her own eyebrows were knitted with concentration and her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth. Spike tried to suppress a purr of contentment and failed miserably.

'Oh god, her fingers are on my face, I never thought I would feel them again.' Spike pressed his face into her hands and groaned softly.

The Immortal watched the tender moment between the star-crossed lovers with a broad smile on his handsome face. He sighed with relief. He knew it would be all right now that Spike was back, he could save Buffy from her melancholy. Now, if only he knew what to do with the newly humanised vampire.

He didn't want him to come between the two lovers.

 
Chapter Three
 
Buffy?" Spike half moaned and half groaned. His cock was beginning to twitch, just from the soft touch of her fingers on his face. Her scent swarmed his senses, overwhelming him and sating him in the same breath.

"Hmm?" She ran her finger through his hair, so caught up in the delight of being able to touch him that she forgot about all the icky demon blood that was caked in it. Hair of Spike was all that she could hear over and over in her head.

"Luv, please," Spike begged. He didn't want to pitch a tent in front of Peaches and the Immortal git.

Buffy pulled her hands away reluctantly and then glanced down at Spike's set jaw and flared nostrils, an expression coupled with the sloe-eyed look he was flashing her from under his thick lashes, and oh boy was she glad she’d managed to save those from being burned off. It was a combination she was all too familiar with. One that usually was followed by her being shagged six ways from Sunday, and boy did she miss her Spike specials, ones that lasted for hours and hours.

Spike arched one of his missing eyebrows at her, but the impact was amusingly lessened as it looked like his forehead was undergoing a massive spasm. He panted slightly as the perfume of her arousal wafted across his already heightened senses. Spike greedily gulped it in the scent of his girl, something that had been a much missed element of his life. Even when they had been mortal enemies and fighting tooth and nail there had been that sweet perfume.

But since LA he had nothing to remind himself of her. Nothing at all, not even a picture. He had spent hours snooping through the Poof's belongings hoping for a snapshot, he'd even resigned himself to one with Peaches looming over her petite form, but there had been none. It was during a late night drinking session with Wes that he had found out that Cordelia had suggested to Angel a clear out and burning of all things Sunnydale to help him move on.

Wes had echoed Spike's snort and nodded briefly when Spike had commented on Cordelia's insecurity and Angel's stupidity in allowing himself to be lead. But then again, Angel was always one for being lead around by the cock by a strong-willed woman. Darla, Buffy and it appeared that the cheerleader could be added to that list, and to some extent Eve and Lilah could have been added to the end.

Spike licked his lips and inhaled her delicate scent once more, amazed at how it managed to overpower the hospital smells. Buffy ran her fingers through her short hair, trying to adjust to its new length. It was one thing to chop it all off in a fit of pique directed at the same vampire that lay rigid on his bed trying to control himself, but for her to cut it off because she sacrificed it to save him was a bird of a different colour. It was a good haircut, resulting from a good reason and not a mean action designed to hurt. She took a deep breath and tried to reinforce her traumatised sense of chic, which had retreated to the corner of her mind clutching metaphorical burnt golden strands of hair and was weeping over them. 'Time to be a grown up about it. Suck it up, Summers.'

Buffy gave her newly shorn hair a pat and then looked over at Paolo who was staring at the still comatose Angel. She shuddered again at the extent of his injuries, but as Paolo had said they resulted from his own hubris. Still, he looked a mess and she was not looking forward to explaining to him that his fighting buddy Charles Gunn had died in the fight that he had instigated against the Square of pricks…whoever. Buffy wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself, trying to banish the sight of Gunn's mangled body from her mind. She also wondered if Angel had known about Wes, the freaky blue stringbean had said she told them but the blonde girl wondered if Angel would remember anything. His skull had been caved in by the fall and the surgeons were waiting for him to stabilise before they operated.

"Cara?" Paolo placed a concerned hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed it; he smirked at Spike's growl and teased the wounded vampire a bit more by wrapping his arm around her slender shoulders.

Spike glared at the handsome man mauling his Slayer. He was dressed in Valentino from head to toe: a white linen shirt that hung off his broad shoulders and over the loose grey slacks, hair perfectly styled and hung loose, brushing his shoulders and framing his aquiline face. The dark black hair was a startling contrast to the pale grey eyes that twinkled merrily at Spike. His full mouth was curled up in the wide smirk-- one to rival Spike's own smirk. Spike's demon surged to the fore and began to growl even louder. He wanted to scratch the smarmy sod's eyes out for looking so perfect when he was crisped around the edges.

"Jeez, what's with the bear impersonations?"

Spike's game face dropped at the sound of her voice, his golden eyes faded to the more familiar pale azure and a genuine smile creased his face. "Nibblet?"

"Spike! What happened to your face? You look weird!" Dawn threw herself at the smiling vampire and carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "How bad are you beat up? Are you going to be okay? Whoa, will they grow back?" She babbled at Spike and then her eyes narrowed. Spike gulped. He recognised that look; it was the same one Joyce had given him after smacking him in the head with an axe all those years ago.

"Daw...Dawn, now luv, wait."

Dawn slapped him around the back of the head. Her actions causing both Buffy and Paolo to step forward and protest that he was injured. Spike winced and looked down.

"You doofus! You never called! We thought you were dead! I felt bad cos of the way I left stuff with you. You do know I would never have set you on fire, right? I was just so mad about what happened and then you were gone and I lost you." Dawn’s face crumpled and she burst into tears. "I missed you!" she wailed and buried her face in the crook of Spike's neck.

"Missed you too, luv, missed you too. M'sorry. Thought you and big sis wouldn't have time for the Big not-so-Bad. Wanted you to have a good life without any grotty memories popping up." Spike carefully wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. His entire body screaming in pain, he could feel a wound on his back had re-opened and was bleeding, but he wouldn't change anything for the world.

He had his Nibblet back and from what it seemed, his Slayer was happy to see him, too.

"Cara, he is bleeding again. I will send for the physician." With that, Paolo retreated and left the three of them to reacquaint themselves.

Buffy cautious approached Spike and sat down on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on his blanket covered knee. She checked his back to make sure it wasn't too serious and then laid her head on his shoulder.

"Oh my god, your hair looks so cute, Buffy!" Dawn had pulled back from Spike's throat and rested her head on his free shoulder and had, for the first time, seen her sister's hair.

"It's okay?" Buffy asked, her womanly vanity still firmly in place.

"Oh yeah, too cute. It looks like Keira Knightly's new cut, really sweet. I love it. Oh, we could get Gianni to put in some really amazing highlights. It'd look awesome."

"Spike doesn't think so. First thing he said was what had I done to my hair!" Buffy couldn't resist prodding the silent vampire in the leg. As soon as he had a double armful of Summers women he had gone quiet, sheer contentment had filled him and he had curled his free arm around Buffy's waist and gone quiet, unwilling to spoil the moment.

"Spike." Dawn glared in sisterly support at the mute vampire. She then prodded him on the cheek. "Is he okay?"

"M'fine Nibs, just enjoying the Summers hug, missed you both."

"Betyah didn't miss me as much as Buffy," Dawn teased.

Spike stared at the young woman curled up at his side. She had grown in the last year into a right smart young lady. His lip curled at the thought of all the spotty Italian gits that would've been eyeballing his girl. 'I'll have to sort em out.'

"Did you, Spike?" Dawn prompted.

"Missed you both in different ways," Spike answered quickly, unwilling to be the cause of a Dawn poutfest.

A slight grunt from the other bed reminded them all that there was another person in the room. Buffy-- instead of pulling away-- pressed herself against Spike in the hope that if she kept reminding him by physical contact that she was there, then he'd not leave. Dawn on the other hand, hopped off the bed and peeked at Angel, her mouth compressed into a moue of disgust.

"Wow, he's really a mess. What happened to his arm?" Dawn peered at the bandaged stub curiously. "Will it grow back, being a vamp and… oh whoa, he's got a heart beat. That's freaky. What the hell happened?"

"Some sort of lizard demon bit it off," Buffy replied.

"Love, it was a dragon," Spike interjected. His entire being was in shock from her continued touching and her obvious delight at seeing him.

"Hardly," Buffy snorted. "I've met dragons and they are nothing like that kinda fugly!" Buffy shrugged dismissively. "The heartbeat, not too sure. Spike whined about something called a Shoeshine."

"Shanshu," Spike corrected her with a grin. He knew that his Slayer did the mispronunciation thing deliberately-- originally to bug the crap out of her Watcher, and then it stuck.

"Wow, Angel really isn't gonna be happy with his hair." Dawn grimaced at the state of her sister’s ex.

"Prolly not. Peaches was always one for his barnet being jus'right." Spike cautiously reached over and entwined his fingers with Buffy's. When she didn't pull away he smiled and pulled her closer, ignoring the screams of pain from his muscles.

The door clicked open and a doctor walked in, followed by the Immortal. The doctor gestured for Buffy to get off the bed and began to check Spike's back, tutting under his breath.
 
Chapter Four
 
So you flew me, Peaches and Blue here to Rome ? Where is the bint anyway? In his private jet trying out a new career as a trolley dolly?" Spike jerked his finger over his shoulder at Paolo, the Immortal pain in his arse. Spike had twigged when the Doctor started babbling at him in Italian. He'd been vampnapped and there was nothing he could do about it. He was back in Rome-- the site of some of his more embarrassing humiliations. Not to say the death of his duster.

"Uh huh, there was no way I was leaving you in LA. It's a mess. The lizard fire is still going. Paolo, have you managed to contact anyone to see if they can stop it?" Buffy looked over at her dearest friend to see if he’d contacted anyone to help with the clean up of LA and adjusted her hold on Spike, supporting him while Dawn fumbled with the door key. "Umm, the blue woman, she well—"

"Molto carino, I am sorry, but the goddess that was has left this dimension. She was displeased with the loss of your amico, Wesley. She was unsure of her place here in this world and chose to go." Paolo gave him a compassionate look.

"Right...well...S'not like I haven't mourned Fred. She's been gone a while and Blue… well… as she said she was using a shell, nothing more...only a comrade at arms at the end," Spike muttered under his breath. Part of him was relieved that the constant reminder of Fred's death was now gone. But at the same time, he had always recognised the ex-goddess as an individual and not Fred, unlike the others. He would miss the blue bint. He glared up at the latest pain in his arse. "And don't think I don't know what you called me, you overdressed puffed-up..."

"Spike, please don't, Paolo's our friend. Family. He's looked after us all." Buffy's quiet plea stopped Spike's diatribe in its tracks. He turned his blue eyes on her, going for the maximum puppy dog pleading. "But love, he horned in on you, and then when I wa...well, he blew up my duster!" Spike whined and then added a pout for good measure, really looking for Slayer sympathy.

Buffy's eyes narrowed at Spike's pathetic attempt to avoid mentioning he and Angel had been in Rome spying on her. By the time she had found out, all hell was breaking loose and she had flown to LA to save his unlife and was waiting for him to get better before she kicked his ass for being an idiot.

"I am sorry, but you had the Angel of death with you and I had no idea what was the situation. Your association with The Wolf, The Ram and The Hart also gave me pause for worry. I had to protect my friends." Paolo smiled smoothly at the now fuming vampire.

Spike muffled a whimper of pain, not wanting to look unmanly in front of the Immortal nit who was smiling at him. Did the Buffy-stealing bastard have some sort of facial tick that made him grin at him?

“Right," he nodded and decided to stop whining like a baby as it was starting to make him look petty in his girl’s eyes. But when he was all healed up and able to move around without the Buffy-crutch, then he and Immortal were going to have a quiet natter. Set things straight-- like informing him that Buffy was his. Spike had kicked himself in the arse repeatedly for letting both Andrew and Peaches talk him out of his feelings for the golden slayer currently holding him upright. Nothing was getting between them; if she wanted him then he was all hers. Only thing in the way was the prancing ninny smiling at him.

"Got it," Dawn exclaimed in relief. She pushed the Eighteenth Century Oak double doors open with flourish. "Spike, welcome to our casa!" She gestured for them to enter. "You can come in anytime you want," she added with a wink.

Buffy and Spike walked slowly over the threshold. All Spike could think was that he was grateful the boy wasn't here babbling about parting his own threshold for him. It had sound painful and utterly disgusting.

"Nice gaff, love," Spike whispered into Buffy's ear as she helped him down the hallway to the large sitting room at the end. "Much nicer than your old place," Spike added cryptically. "Huh?" Buffy's hazel eyes narrowed at Spike in confusion. "I thought you liked mom's place?"

"I did," he replied cryptically.

"Spike? Spike! Oh Buffy...Spike...man I'm sorry."

"Andrew? Wot are you doing here?" Spike groaned at the sight of the nit who'd broken his and Peaches’ hearts last time they'd been in Italy .

"He lives here, well sorta." Buffy helped Spike onto the large sofa and then slipped a couple of throw pillows under his feet to keep the pressure off them.

"Oh, gerroff!" Spike yelped as Andrew threw his arms around the vampire and sobbed with joy.

"We thought you had bit the big one. Man she was pissed when she found out you were alive and then getting into a dogfight with the creeps running that law firm. But I knew it! I just knew she'd save you! Hey, what happened to your eyebrows? You look weird!" Andrew babbled as Spike tried to wriggle free from his octopus arms.

"Andrew." Buffy gently pulled on his shoulder, trying to save the increasingly more agitated vampire from anymore Andrew tears.

Andrew snuffled and clung tighter to Spike's waist. “Giles told me to not tell about LA, I wanted too so badly, she was unhappy…the crying and then you came to Rome and I freaked and said those dumbass things…sorry…Spike please tell me you forgive me!” Andrew wailed and then gulped hard at the sensation of Spike’s buttocks in his hands. “Oh my…so perky,” he mumbled.

"Please, you're hurting him!" Buffy tried to coax him off Spike, but Andrew shook his head and clung on like a limpet. Sniffling against Spike’s shoulder.

"I left you there in that den of iniquity, an innocent lamb waiting to be corrupted. I'm soooo sorry," Andrew wailed.

"Andrew," Dawn yelled and yanked him off Spike. "Man, you can be so lame. Hello, Spike's a vamp, he can look after himself." She cocked her head and eyed the battered and bruised body lying on the couch. "Well most of the time, and as if you could do anything to save him." She giggled and pulled Andrew further away. He had been straining against her hold, hoping to cop a feel of that hard muscled bod he had worshiped for so long. "Come on, we need to pack some stuff." With that she yanked the loudly complaining Andrew after her.

"Pack?" Buffy raised an eyebrow at Paolo in question.

"Ah yes. I forgot to mention the three of us are going to that Spa in Trevisi I mentioned, " Paolo replied smoothly. He adjusted his collar and smoothed back his long hair off his face. He checked his reflection in the large gilded overmantle and smoothed his eyebrows.

"Dawn I can see doing the mudbath, facepacks and whatnot and the boy, but you?" Spike closed his eyes and rested his head on the cushion. Then his body froze. It wasn't a cushion-- it was a Buffy lap. He felt her hand hesitantly drop onto his head and her thin fingers card through his hair. With a hesitant rumble he relaxed again and sighed happily.

The tall Immortal looked down at the two of them ensconced on the large Louis XVI couch and sighed. He did love it when soulmates found each other. Now he just had to convince the two of them that they were indeed soulmates and meant for each other. Maybe some time alone and no distractions would help.

"Cara, I must take my leave of you and your consort. Adieu." Paolo bowed and ignored the snort that emanated form Spike's limp form and blew a kiss at Buffy.

"Paolo, how can I...how can we—?"Buffy's hazel eyes filled with tears and her mouth wobbled. She reluctantly slid out from under Spike and stood, throwing her arms around the tall man and squeezed him tightly. Spike chuntered loudly at the sight of the two of them embracing. So much so that Buffy shushed him and waved a hand in his direction.

"Ready." Dawn swung into the room with a cheesy grin. Andrew trotted up behind her, trying to get his rucksack to close. A wealth of new comic books was poking out the top of the rucksack and the blond was trying to avoid squishing them and destroying their value.

"Do we havfta go? Spike just returned from near death and I want to sit and—"

"Come on prezioso, let us leave them to talk." Paolo caught hold of Andrew's elbow and pulled him out of the room. "Ciao, Buffy and it's good to see you again, William,” he added with a cheeky wink.

Dawn bounced over to the two of them and brushed a soft kiss where Spike's eyebrows had been and then hugged her sister. "Have fun, and don't do anything I wouldn't."

The contented smile dropped off Spike's face; his eyes had lulled shut with first brush of her lips then snapped open and flashed amber. "Wot did she say?"
 
Chapter Five
 


"Spike, lets get you cleaned up and then you can rest for a while." Buffy ignored the muttered invectives that poured out of Spike's mouth and helped him up. "Sorry, I keep moving you around and not letting you rest, but you kinda smell funky." She wrinkled her nose at him in the same adorable way she used to, the same way that made his knees tremble.

"Dawn said—"

"Yeah yeah, so she's not a virgin anymore. What was I supposed to do, lock her in her room forever? I tried that, Spike, but she can scream like a banshee. Anyway, she used protection and I gave her the ‘sex is evil’ speech, along with pictures to illustrate. I reminded her what happened when I slept with Ang—" She stopped babbling for a moment and glanced through her lashes at Spike, worried about mentioning Angel's name out loud.

"So anyway, she and Mauricio have been seeing each other pretty much since the day we got here and he is a nice guy. Not a demon-- I checked. So did Paolo. And I met his parents, they are really sweet and his baby brother is the cutest and I am babbling, aren't I?" she gave Spike an embarrassed smile and looped his arm over her shoulder and helped him walk down the wide marble floored corridor.

"Nib's not a virgin?" was all Spike could say. He wanted to cry but managed to be a man about his girl’s lost innocence.

"Well, she is nearly nineteen," Buffy whispered.

"I was a virgin til I was twenty eight, right changing the subject now." Spike looked around the elegantly decorated hallway; it was filled with antiques and the walls were covered in Bartelozzi engravings and oil paintings. So very different from what he ever expected Buffy to live in. He didn't want to discuss the Nibblet's sexlife and especially not when his had started, either. "So are you renting or did you buy the digs?"

"Umm, well we rented first, and then Paolo gave me and Dawn this." Buffy explained hurriedly. She mentally winced and waited for the explosion, but nothing came.

"Gave you?"

"Yeah. It's the ground and first floor of one of his Palazzos. You should see the gardens-- they are amazing. There's even a pool and a gym out there!"

"Right, good on him. Looking after you two." Spike gritted his teeth and tried not to burst into a furious diatribe, realising that it would only serve to make him look pathetic in her eyes.

"Here we are." Buffy pushed open the floor to ceiling double doors and helped Spike into her suite of rooms.

Spike's eyes roamed the room taking in the tasteful furnishings and felt out of place-- dirty, old and tired. He sighed deeply and froze in his steps.

Buffy glanced up at him, "are you okay?" Her handed tightened on his and he could feel the sweat pouring off her. She was nervous; he could smell she was worried and terrified of something. He was unsure of what, though.

"Tired out. Been put through the wringer recently, not had a moment to put me feet up," he lied quickly, unwilling to cause her anymore worry.

Her eyes softened at his admission. "Come on, the bathroom's in here. I picked this suite because of it."

"Can see why you did. Is that Sienna marble on the walls?" Spike squinted at the pinkish red marble-lined walls of the bathroom, which was probably the size of Buffy's old sitting room. A large bath stood in the centre of the room; it was rectangular and raised up off the floor, steps on all four sides. There was a chaise-lounge upholstered in a burgundy velvet and finished off with gold fringing under one window, and on the other side was double French doors that led onto a balcony overlooking the garden. Muslin curtains fluttered in the breeze, blocking the sun’s dangerous rays from Spike but allowing light and air into the room. All around the room were arched recesses with old busts of Greek and Roman gods. There were large silver gilt torchieres at the head and foot of the tub with half melted candles on them.

"Right smart." Spike leaned against the wall, using one hand to brace himself as he watched Buffy flit around the room, lighting candles and running the bath. He grimaced at the handful of bath salts she tossed in. "Not too flowery, love. Remember, have a rep to maintain."

"Riiight," Buffy drawled as she pulled big white Egyptian towels out of an armoire and lay them on the steps. "Strip please." She held her breath wondering if Spike would suddenly go all modest on her and rob her of a visual feast.

"Might need a hand with that pet." Spike fumbled with his zipper, his fingers suddenly shaking with nerves. No one had seen him naked since before he'd burnt up in the Hellmouth and now the one woman he had yearned for over a year was staring at him as if she wanted to devour him. Not that he was complaining, but for some reason Spike was struck down with an attack of the nerves.

Before he could blink, he felt Buffy's soft touch on his chin and she was tipping his face up to look at her. Standing on her tiptoes, Buffy gave him a tiny kiss on the end of his nose. Then slowly began to unbutton his jeans, pulling them down over his battered and bruised legs. She clucked like a mother hen at the sight of them. Buffy gently traced a deep gouge on his thigh that curved around and upwards towards his groin and winced. "Sorry, that must hurt." She glanced up at Spike who was staring down at her and panting heavily.

"S'kay, it'll mend." Spike shifted on his feet and tried to will the incipient erection that was threatening to occur to stay down. Instead he focused on her deft fingers as they unlaced his boots and lifted first one foot then the other as she pulled them off. "Under floor heating, nice." Spike wriggled his pale toes in appreciation on the warm marble. Buffy stood up and reached for the final layer of clothing to pull it off.

"Course, as if I would let my little piggies get frosty." She grinned impishly at him.

Unable to help himself, Spike looked down at her sandal clad feet and admired the bright red varnish that was adorning her toes. "Couldn't have that.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper as his eyes darkened with desire and the erection he had been trying to suppress made its presence made.

Buffy reached over and her hand hovered over his cock, her fingers flexed and her mouth watered at the sight of it. Instead of taking hold of it she reached over and ripped the black T-shirt in half, revealing his battered chest. "Easier that pulling it over your head and re-opening your wounds," she explained, her eye riveted to his throbbing cock, the tip of it brushing against his muscled stomach.

Spike let out a shaky breath. "Sorry love, but you know what effect you have on me."

"Hmm, come on, let’s get you in the tub." Buffy took his hand and helped him over to the bath and walked him up the steps. Spike eyed the massive water filled bath with relish. "Must be better than the cold water shower I had in my last place." He eased himself into the deep pool and rested his head on the side with a happy sigh. He cracked open one eye and stared up at his golden girl. "You remembered I like it hot."

"I remember everything about you, Spike." She sat down on the edge and reached for the shampoo. "Come on, dunk your head and I can clean out the demon goo."

"Love, why are you—?" Before he could complete the sentence, Buffy gently pushed his head under the water. She didn't want to hear those questions from him, not ever. It had taken her long enough to admit to herself how she felt about him and then when he had refused her words in the Hellmouth, she had been wounded. Even more damaged than when Angel had left her 'for her own good'. Spike had broken her heart with his rebuttal of her words. But now she had him back she was keeping him.

He was her vampire.
 
Chapter Six
 
Spike closed his eyes as she pushed his head under the lightly scented water. He felt safe-- warm and content for the first time since he and Buffy had curled up in each other's arms and slept the night away in a strangers' house in Sunnydale.

Buffy chewed her lower lip as she stripped off the sundress and her panties and then swung her legs around and into the tub.

Spike, unaware of the woman of his dreams sitting naked above him, slid down on his tailbone and began to stretch out. The heat from the water was doing wonders for his aching muscles and despite the sting of his wounds he was feeling better.

Buffy watched Spike doing his porpoise impersonation with a faint smile on her lips. She had hesitated about joining him. All her bravado was gone. What if he didn't want her to get in with him? What if he didn't want her anymore? She kicked her feet in the water and sighed. She loved him. But what if he didn't feel the same anymore?

Spike felt something swish in the water near his head and reached up with his hand and grabbed her ankle. Smirking, he pulled her into the tub with him.

"Eep!" Buffy squeaked as Spike yanked on her ankle and she slid into the water with a splash.

He rolled onto his side and ran his hand up her body, silently appreciating the new curves that were gracing her form. He knew better than to mention her added curves, as it would result in a month of Soya patties and water.

"Spike," Buffy giggled as they both surfaced. She blinked her wet lashes at him and grinned happily as he tickled her sides with the lightest of touches.

Spike laughed, a deep joyful noise that filled the room. He gazed at her beautiful smiling face, drinking in her features like a man who was parched. Her long lashes were spiky and stuck together from the water and framing her large twinkling eyes, her short hair was plastered down and darkened by the water. "What's this little mermaid I've caught?" Spike teased as he tickled her into a riot of giggles. Her squirming body writhed against his, causing him to sigh in contentment.

"No...nnnnooo, stop it! I'm meant to be looking after you," Buffy giggled as she tried to wriggle free from his teasing fingers. She sat up and pulled Spike up against her chest, lulling his head in between her pert breasts and running her fingers through his curly wet hair. She grimaced as her fingers tangled in the demon blood that had set like concrete, Buffy's nimble fingers tried to tease the clumps apart.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow and a what the ruddy hell are you doing?" Spike yelped. The pain that was radiating from his scalp down his neck was the last straw, he began to shake and his teeth chattered.

"Spike?" Buffy gently turned him in her arms and then held his face in her hands, trying to see what was wrong. He had his eyes screwed shut as he shivered over and over. Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. Spike's now limp cock nestled in her course curls and he slid his arms around her back, clutching her to him. His lifeline, his hope and his salvation all wrapped up in a small California girl.

Then for the first time in years-- not since she'd killed herself to save her sister-- he cried. Great heavy sobs wracked his battered body as Spike finally gave in and purged himself of all the anger, hatred, depression, grief and pain he hoarded zealously inside himself. Spike dropped his face into her cleavage and just let the tears flow, his mouth opened and closed as he tried to form an explanation as to why he let himself lose control.

Buffy wrapped her arms around his head, trying to shelter him from everything. Her legs tightened around his waist, attempting to pull his shuddering body closer. Offering him shelter in the storm of his emotional turmoil. She murmured nonsensical words into the crown of his head, trying to soothe him. But deep down she knew Spike needed this. He needed to purge himself of all of it and if that meant she held him in the cradle of her arms and legs, here in her bathtub as he wept, then so be it.

That was what true love was all about, taking the bad with the good. Being there to pick the one you loved up and set them back on the path, give them a shoulder to cry on and be their haven. Selfless love was a hard one to learn and she had only just begun to understand what it entailed when Sunnydale fell. His sacrifice had been her epiphany and Buffy hoped that he could see how much she had changed and how much she loved him.

He was so tired. Spike couldn't believe the exhaustion that wracked his beaten up body and mind. But she was holding him, trying to help, trying to soothe him and that was pure nirvana for him. Her embrace was balm for his frazzled nerves and her cooing voice pacified his aching heart. As he lay there nuzzled against her breast, Spike slowly began to believe her final words in the Hellmouth to him. That they weren't a sop for the dying man or something for him to cling to as he burned up and maybe, just maybe, she really did love him.

She had come to LA and saved him. Maybe it wasn't for Peaches. It wasn't as if she were sitting at his sickbed cooing over his missing arm. Instead she was here, her warm supple body wrapped around his, her arms and legs tightly wound around him, her voice soft and loving as her hands stroked up and down his back.

Buffy pulled her hand away from his back. It felt warm and sticky. She held it up and stared in horror at the blood on her fingers. She'd re-opened his wounds. "Spike, I'm sorry...Spike." She pressed a kiss to his temple trying to get his attention. She could feel his tears running down in between her breasts and mingling with the cooling bathwater that was now tinged pink from his blood.

"Sorry love, it's just—"

"I know sweetie, you just needed to let it all out. But Spike, we need to do something about your hair and then I need to re-dress you wounds… I made you bleed again. I'm sorry."

Spike raised his head and looked deep into her eyes, his gaze searching. It was so familiar-- that deep look he gave her-- that Buffy nearly burst into tears, too. She had missed him so much. Too much. Spike saw the maelstrom of emotions in her eyes, and gave into the yearning he had been suppressing since waking in the hospital and seeing her there. He leant forward and kissed her, a deep soulful kiss. His lips moved smoothly over hers; his tongue slid against them begging silently for entry.

Buffy moaned as her lips parted and Spike's tongue slipped into her warm mouth. It traced the edges of her teeth before dipping in and tangling with her tongue. The kiss was lingering; soft and sensual. Spike savoured her taste and with each pass of his tongue against hers he moaned into her mouth. His hands clutched at her as he nipped at her lower lip with his teeth and then began to rain kisses along her jaw line and down her throat where he paused and then dropped his head against her neck and sighed happily. Content and safe.

"Love you, pet," he whispered hoarsely against her throat.

"Me too. I love you, Spike." Buffy held her breath waiting for him to refute it. Her heart pounded faster and faster and felt like it was going to break through her chest.

Spike frowned at her accelerated heart rate and the slight scent of worry that she emanated. "Love?"

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut and clung onto him.

"Slayer? What's wrong?" Spike's heart was in his throat, what had he done wrong? Maybe she didn't want to hear his declaration. His stomach lurched and he tried to pull away. But she clung to him like a monkey, her embrace tightening to the point of pain.

"Just don't say it please...please...please," she begged.

"Say what?" he rumbled against her neck. Spike felt her gulp hard and draw in a shaky breath. He frowned and brushed a soothing kiss on her fragrant skin.

"’No, you don't. But thanks for saying it,’" she whispered hollowly. The same words he had uttered to her in the collapsing Hellmouth. The same words that had haunted her ever since, echoing in her head night after night once she had curled up in her bed.

Spike frowned, the words were familiar but he couldn't place…'oh bollocks.'

He disentangled himself from her arms and legs, reluctantly pulling away from her warmth and then pulled her into his arms, rocking her slowly back and forth. "Buffy love, I didn't mean it. I just wanted you out of there and safe. Would've said anything to keep you alive. One of us had to live-- to go on living.” He echoed the words he’d sung to her with a wry smile.

 
Chapter Seven
 
Are you sure about this?" Buffy asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, just get it over with," Spike grunted.

"'Kay.” She reached over and grasped the scissors in her hand, gingerly picked up a blond curl and closed her eyes and snipped it off.

Spike grimaced at the blank mirror, glad for once that he didn't cast a reflection. He could see locks of his hair floating down around him as his Slayer chopped it reluctantly off. After their mutual meltdown in the tub, they had lain curled around each other in the lukewarm water, neither willing to let go of the other until finally Buffy had insisted on getting out of the tub and cleaning his wounds again, and doing something about his ruined hair.

They had tried combing the blood out, but the viscous fluid had set harder than cement and it was decided that Spike'd have to do a Samson as he jokingly referred to it. So here he sat, watching the peroxided blond curls dropping from his girl's fingers.

"Are you sure you want me to cut it that close to the scalp?" Buffy tremulously asked.

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, if you're sporting a 'chic' do, then why not me. You got any fresh razors?"

Buffy grumbled under her breath and reached around Spike, her bare breasts teasing him with light touches as she rooted around in her dressing table drawer. Spike, unable to resist teasing her, turned his head and gave the nearest peachy pink nipple a lick and a nibble. Causing it to tighten and reach towards his cool lips, Spike heard her indrawn gasp of breath and smirked. "Right tasty lil'morsel that, need to have a good seeing too later." He sat back and crossed his arms over his bare chest.

Buffy sucked in a breath and straightened, the erotic promise in his rough voice sending a bolt of arousal through her body. "S…sure," she stuttered. Her entire being yearned for him and that teasing lick had super charged her arousal. Moisture began to pool between her thighs and seep down her legs and she wriggled her thighs together to ease it. It had been too long.

She needed him.

Spike chuckled at her stuttering. His confidence had returned in leaps and bounds since he'd cried himself out on her breasts. Something had shifted in both their psyches and they were moving towards an easiness in each other's presence that they had thought lost. "Come on sweetness, get the rest of that crap cut out of m'hair."

Buffy giggled and began to snip away at his hair until it was all gone, she ran her hand over his shorn head and sighed. Using the new razor she'd liberated from her drawer, she ran it over the stubble evening it out, until it was all uniform in length. "There."

Spike reached up and ran his hands over his head; he could feel the bristles of stubble rasping against the palms of his hands. "Does it look weird?"

"Oh Goldilocks,what have you done to your hair," she teased, repeating the same words he'd thrown at her in the hospital.

"M'sorry pet, was just a shock. Brought back memories of, well—"

"Shh, I know." Buffy scratched her fingers over his scalp, grinning when he purred and pressed his head into her hands. All mirth fled from her body when he swayed suddenly on the seat, exhaustion and pain from his injuries finally making themselves known to him.

"Sorry love, bit knackered here. You got any blood in the place? And maybe a bit of a kip, that'll sort me out," Spike slurred as he tried to stay focused on Buffy. After so long apart and yearning for her for so long he hated that his body was flaking out on him and forcing him to sleep. He wanted to spend every second of his time with her.

'Crap, I forgot to get some blood.' Buffy's panicked thoughts scrambled around her head trying to work out what to do next, how to help him. Feed him and heal him.

~~~~~~~~

Buffy urged Spike towards her monster of a bed. It was a gilded wrought iron bed, with the four posts at each corner extending up and inwards to a point in the centre of the bed, a small crown sitting at their juncture. Her sheets were white Egyptian cotton, but the comforter was of the deepest navy blue-- as close in colour that she could get to his eyes. Buffy pushed all the small cushions on the floor and lifted the comforter and helped Spike into her bed. "Rest for a bit. I'm just gonna go and find something for you to eat."

Spike smiled sleepily at her, his energy spent and his eyes were dropping. Without a word he slid into her bed and snuggled up against the same pillow she used. He sniffed happily and then with a purr, fell asleep. Buffy straightened the bed clothes over his nude form and ran her hand over his shaved head, she knew it would take some getting used to, just like her make over, but she kinda liked the sensation of his stubble on her skin.

She slipped on her robe and padded out to the hallway, wracking her brains for inspiration as to where to find blood in Rome. She absently rubbed her wrist as she paced up and down the hall. Then she stopped in her tracks, and slapped her forehead, ‘man talk about a blonde moment.’

~~~~~~~

"Spike...Spike…honey, wake up."

Spike could hear his girl's voice calling to him. Always happened when he was dreaming of her. Buffy was always too far away for him to reach out and touch, but he could hear her voice and it haunted him. He felt a hand on his shoulder gently shaking him, and he growled and curled up into a tight ball. He wanted to sleep and dream of his girl, even if it tortured him.

Then there was a tantalizing scent. Something so familiar and yet so unique, his mouth watered and his fangs dropped slightly.

"Come on sleepy head, wake up. I have dinner for you," Buffy coaxed.

Spike grumbled and flipped onto his back and pulled the covers over his head. Buffy sighed and slipped out of her robe and then crawled under the sheet, silently screaming with joy at being able to crawl into bed with Spike. She slithered up against his side and without any preamble shoved her bleeding wrist under his nose and waited for his demon to notice.

Spike's eyes snapped open as he inhaled deeply. 'Buffy's hurt, I can smell her blood!' He was about to lurch out of his cocoon and leap to her defence when he saw her slender wrist in front of his nose, a small cut on it was healing in front of his eyes and the thin trail of blood was congealing on her skin. He turned startled cerulean blue eyes towards her.

"What are you doing?" Spike silently cursed himself when his voice rose into an unmanly squeak.

"Trying to feed you dummy, to help you heal," Buffy grumped as she hopefully waved her wrist under his nose again.

"Stop doing that.” He caught hold of her now healed wrist and stared at her as if she had grown another head.

"But Spike, you need to heal, and what's better than a Slayer special?" she demanded poutily.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he asked incredulously.

"Nu uh, save you, make you better." Buffy knelt up on the mattress, revealing her naked form to his appreciative eyes. Spike propped himself up on his elbows, his ravenous gaze devouring every golden inch of her. His eyes lingering on the blood that dripped from her skin onto her thighs.

"I'm not using you as a meal," Spike countered huffily and he looked up at her. She looked so determined kneeling next to him, her short hair ruffled and standing up in tufts here and there, her lower lip sticking out. A crafty look came over her face and she bounced next to him. "Slayer?" Spike's voice rose questioningly as he watched her look at him as if she were about to devour him.

Buffy pushed the covers down off Spike with one hand as she plotted a way for him to get the blood he needed to heal. Her admiring gaze took in his nude reclining form; even battered and bruised he was erect and throbbing for her. His cock twitched against his thigh as her eyes ran over its length and she unconsciously licked her lips.

"That cut on your thigh looks bad, lemme check it again." Before Spike could reply Buffy slid his legs apart gently and scrambled over his leg to kneel in-between them. Her hands resting on his inner thighs and began gently kneading them. His toes curled into the bedding at her soft touch and a small drop of pre-cum dripped from his cockhead as it lurched upwards.

Spike gulped, for once in his life at a loss for words as he watched her full pinks lips lower towards his groin.
 
Chapter Eight
 


"Guh," was all he was able to mutter as Buffy's lips ran the length of his wound and his hips jerked upwards as she bit down hard at the juncture of his thigh and groin. His hands shot to her head and he fell back on the pillows, his eyes riveted to her pouting pink lips as they pressed tiny kisses along the crease of his thigh and headed towards his hard cock that rested on his heaving belly, twitching in anticipation of her warmth.

The sight of her full lips transfixed him as they pressed open-mouthed kisses up his length. Occasionally her tongue flickered out to trace the vein that ran along the underside. "Oh Christ in heaven, love, please," he rambled. Buffy shifted slightly, trying to ease the build up of arousal between her legs. He tasted so good and the sensation of silky hardness against her lips was a familiar, yet delicious one. She could feel her arousal trickling between her pussy lips and coating her inner thighs. She rubbed her legs together, trying to ease the pressure that was building up-- just from the taste of him and the way he reacted to every swipe of her tongue.

Spike gulped as he stared at her tongue. It flickered around the head of his cock, gathering up the precum. He panted through his gritted teeth. Spike’s jaw muscles worked as he tried to stop himself from pouncing on Buffy and kissing every inch of her delectable body. He could smell her excitement, the musky perfume of her arousal painted the air, and with every gasping breath of excitement he drew more into his lungs until he felt like that not only did she surround him but she was also inside him.

His view was for once unobstructed, her newly shorn head allowing him to watch every lick and kiss with no interruption. Yes he missed her locks, but she sacrificed her crowning glory for him, and he loved her for it. Going from her petulantly cutting her hair off to spite him, to sacrificing her vanity to save him. It was more than he ever dreamed of.

Spike's hooded eyes were filled with passion, darkening to a navy blue and he tipped his hips slightly, trying to encourage her back to his cockhead. Despite feeling like he'd been through the wringer, Spike's body recognised its mate and responded to her advances. His mind was rapidly following suit and regardless of feeling as weak as a kitten, Spike was determined. There was no way he wouldn't make love to his girl, and if it killed him then he'd go out a happy man.

Then his brain shut down.

'Christ she's making yummy noises.'

Buffy smiled as she swallowed him down to the root in one smooth motion. It had taken them a while to perfect this, but once they had she had been in heaven. She loved the full feeling in her throat and the taste of him...man, the taste of him was out of this world. She knew that the only way he was going to drink from her was if she drove him into a sexual frenzy and then she would strike. Catching him unawares with his demon in control, it was the only way she knew to get a vamp to drink. With Angel she’d hit him over and over with a pot to get him to drink. But with Spike she knew if she pressed the right buttons he’d be putty in her hands.

Buffy hummed lightly as she bobbed her head up and down, the vibrations causing Spike to throw his head back and hiss in delight. His fingers tightened on the sheet and his knuckles turned white. "Mmm, ohhh god. I love feeling your mouth on me, missed you so much. That hot lil’gob of yours is pure sin… I missed it so much, Slayer, Buffy, love don't stop," Spike begged as he felt her little tongue circle the crest and dip into the slit. His legs shook and Spike's mouth dried up, he looked down and gasped at the sight of her hazel eyes staring lovingly up at him as she gave the head of his cock tiny little kitten licks. Her hazel eyes were glittering with passion and lust.

Buffy took the head of his cock in her mouth, sucking and wriggling her tongue in the slit again, determined to provoke his demon into coming out to play. She stared fixedly up at his face, never breaking eye contact. She had learned from past experience that he loved it when she looked up while giving him a blowjob. Slowly she slid one hand down between his legs and stroked the underside of his balls, cupping them in her hand she began to gently squeeze them in time with each lick and nip she gave to his twitching erection.

With a happy sigh she pushed her lips over the head and held him loosely in her teeth, all the while massaging his balls. Buffy could feel them slowly pulling up tight against his body. A precursor to him erupting in her eager mouth and coating her throat with his spendings, something she had never liked until Spike. Riley had begged her so many times, but something had stopped her.
But with Spike, she loved it. Deciding to up the ante she slid her mouth down, taking most of him in. The head bumped against the back of her throat and she swallowed hard, knowing how much he loved the feeling of her throat constricting on him. There was a strangled noise that emanated from Spike that sounded suspiciously like a squeak. Buffy grinned at the noise; he was so responsive towards her. Buffy bobbed up and down a few times, then pulled her mouth away. Spike groaned.

His eyes flickered amber and then swirled with golden sparks of colour as his face shifted and his fangs dropped. "Stop frigging teasing me you rotten, heavenly, evil, delicious minx." He growled around his fangs and shifted on the bed, thrusting his hips up towards her mouth. His mouth was open as he panted unnecessarily. Buffy cocked an eyebrow at him and then pursed her lips and blew a cool stream of air on the head, causing him to whimper. She curled her fingers and gently scratched the skin that was hidden behind his balls; she pushed down and watched as his cock jerked. Spike purred and growled at her as his senses were overwhelming his higher brain functions and her teasing had robbed him of the ability to speak.
Listening to the stream of babble pouring from her vampire’s mouth, Buffy giggled. She loved that he responded to her so much. The sweet noise of her laughter pulled Spike’s gaze back to her. He tried to smile but just as he parted his lips, Buffy’s mouth descended on his cock. With a long drawn out lick from base to tip she coated him with her saliva.

“Hungh…” was all he was able to produce from his bone-dry mouth and Spike’s head dropped back as she nudged his balls with her lips. Buffy’s hands were splayed on his inner thighs, forcing his legs further apart. Spike shifted on the bed to accommodate her and then winced. “Ow,” he hissed as the wound on his thigh opened slightly.

Buffy froze mid lick at the admission of pain from his dry lips. Her eyes narrowed as she sat up and pulled his legs together to ease the strain on his wound. She straddled his knees and gently rubbed around the wounded area ignoring his twitching shaft, trying to suppress the guilt that was pouring into her heart.

“Don’t’ stop, please,” he groaned at the loss of her tongue.

“Spike, please drink from me, it’ll heal you and then we can…”

“Love don’t…”

Determination coloured her features. Buffy slide up his thighs until she was kneeling over his groin. His cock lurched towards her heat as if it recognised home. She raked her sharp nails over his stomach, watching as the muscles twitched and rippled under her hands. The determined girl leant forward and wrapped her lips around one of his flat nipples and sucked hard. Spike’s eyes shot open at the sensation and he looked down his chest at her bent head.

His lax hands lay at his side and when his girl pushed back slightly, letting his cockhead nestle between her soaked nether lips, his fingers shot up and curled around her waist. Steadying her against his body and slowly moving them in a gentle rocking motion so that the tip of his erection nudged in and out of her grasping opening, titillating them both, with the promises of what was to come.

Never in all his wildest dreams since his resurrection from the fires of the Hellmouth had Spike anticipated this. He had dreamt of seeing her again, but to have her hot willing body coiled around him and oh god, her lips… is she trying to mark me?

His hand slid up her body until his fingers were combing through her short locks, gently encouraging her to suckle on his now hard nipples. A wave of goosebumps erupted over his muscled torso as her teeth scrapped over one erect nipple. Buffy moved from one pink nub to the other, nipping and kissing his chest as she travelled across it. She could hear Spike panting and crooning nonsensical words of encouragement and love, and she grinned as he was getting close to losing control.

Buffy was ready to pounce. In one smooth movement she lifted herself off the tip of his cock, and then when he whimpered in protest, Buffy slammed down on him. Spike’s eyes shot open at the sensation of her liquid warmth surrounding him for the first time in years.

“Oh!” she exclaimed in surprise. Her inner muscles strained to accommodate his cock. She had been alone for too long and to finally have Spike in her depths again was a painful but erotic feeling. She also felt complete for the first time in her life; it was as if everything she had experienced and suffered through had lead to this moment of joining.

“God Slayer. Buffy. Oh god love, you are going to kill me,” Spike cried out. His hands spanned her slender waist, guiding her movements as she began to move slowly up and down, rolling her hips slightly and rocking forward with each downward stroke. She pressed her breasts hard against his chest and Spike groaned as the hard tips brushed against his skin.

Buffy wriggled around and sat up, pulled out of his embrace and gave him a saucy smile. Spike was too lost in the sensation of being in her scorching depths to see the minxy look she had shot at him. Her full lips curled up at the corners as she teasingly tweaked his still wet nipples and gyrated her hips first in an anticlockwise direction for a moment, before switching and rotating in a clockwise direction. From past experience she knew that this would make him vamp out and start with the yummy growlies that made her entire body vibrate.

“Grrr argh…”

Buffy smiled. There he was, all fang faced and lust hazed, perfect and all hers. A drop of sweat ran down between her bobbing breasts and slid down to the nest of brown curls where they were joined. Buffy could feel her juices trickling out of her, coating his cock and mingling in the coarse curls as she rode him into submission. She was not putting up with ‘Mr. I won’t drink from you cos I wanna prove I’m not Angel and can have some self discipline’ anymore, he needed her blood and she needed his bite.

She’d done it for Angel all those years ago and she would do it for her soulmate, even if she had to torture him with her body to do it. Spike watched as her breasts bobbed up and down. The pale skin where her bikini top had covered while she sunbathed was a startling contrast to the warm gold of her body. Unable to resist, he reached up and cupped the two tantalising mounds in the palms of his large hands. They fit perfectly-- as if they were made just for him. He squeezed her nipples gently, then with increasing pressure as she arched into his hands.

Spike was in nirvana; he was home, embedded deep inside his Golden girl and being loved. He could feel his fangs cutting into his lower lip as he bit down to stop himself from howling at the top of his lungs. He wanted the world to know that he was back in Buffy’s arms, her bed, in her body and that she was all his. Ignoring the pain in his back, he sat up and latched onto one of the pale pink nipples that he had been squeezing and began to lave it with his tongue. He deliberately avoided nipping at her with his fangs, not wanting to hurt her. The blood on his lips from where he had bitten himself smeared around her aereola anointing her as his.

Buffy clasped his head to her breast and held her breath as she continued to grind her hips. Her body had finally become accustomed to his girth after so long, and she could feel every bump and vein on Spike’s cock as it stabbed into her over and over. She wanted more. Buffy couldn’t name what it was she was straining for; she wanted all of him, warts, lumpies and all. No more being on her own and crying over him night after night. Angel may have been her first love, but Spike was her true love, the one she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.

Slipping her hand under his chin, Buffy reluctantly pulled his lips away from her straining nipple and then cupped his face in her hands as she stared deep into his lust glazed golden eyes, her hips never missing a beat. Spike’s hands now rested on her pert buttocks and were caressing the soft globes as he let her strangle his cock in her silken pulsating depths. He smiled at her around his fangs, unaware of her devious plan to heal him.

“Love you, Spike,” she whispered and then placed a ridiculously chaste kiss on the tip of his scrunched up nose. She tightened her knees against his sides and then without any preamble pulled his head to one side, revealing his pale throat and sank her teeth into his skin with a growl.

“What are you…no…Buffy…” Spike roared as his cock spasmed in her churning depths. The heat from her was scalding. He felt like his skin on his cock was going to burn off. But the sensation of her small teeth tearing into his skin, into his throat and her whispered words of love were his undoing. Tears fell from his eyes unchecked as he tried to pull her closer to him. He felt his spine fuse with ecstasy as she tore through his skin in the exact same spot that Dru had turned him all those years ago. His eyes shot open when he heard her mumbled claim.

“Mine.” And with that single word from Buffy, he succumbed. Spike’s heart filled with even more love for the tiny woman who had just for all intents and purposes married him, fulfilling a long suppressed desire. His fangs twitched and then he sank them into her warm throat and purred with contentment as her powerful blood flooded his mouth.

“Yours…always yours, never been anyone else. All that I am is yours.” Spike whispered.

 
Chapter Nine
 
Oh wow…wow…wow…” Buffy moaned into the crushed pillow. Her face was pressed into it as Spike rammed into her from behind. Her skin was flushed red and her eyes flickered open and shut as Spike pulled her up onto her knees. He never paused. His lean hips pumped into hers in long smooth strokes. Buffy parted her legs wider and rested her forehead on her crossed arms. She grunted softly as her new position altered the angle that Spike’s cock penetrated her.

Spike ran his hand down her flexing spine with a purr; he slid the same hand under his mate’s sweat-soaked body and felt her stomach muscles clench and release in time with each pump of his hips. His amber eyes were riveted to the scabbed over claim marks he’d left on her throat. The raised bumps were like a sirens call. His fangs ached to sink back into her willing flesh. From the moment she had claimed him, he had been lost. He clutched at her hips with his free hand, bruising the smooth skin there in his desperation to be joined to her.

He pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside her and watched as Buffy’s body shook from his teasing. Spike stared down at his glistening erection, coated with her juices and their mutual spendings. They’d been making love for most of the day. Since the infusion of her powerful healing blood, Spike’s body had healed in minutes. His pale skin was littered with faint scratch marks and teeth bites, left there by his mate and nothing more. In his eyes he was covered with perfect scars.

He slid into her and leant over her back. Spike ran his tongue up her spine to the nape of her neck. He ran his fangs over the corded muscles there, letting them break the skin. His rough tongue lapped the tiny pinpricks of blood. He rumbled happily at her unique taste; he’d tasted the blood of the Slayer in China and Buffy was in a league of her own. He knew deep down it was because of the love they shared for each other.

Small tremors ran up Buffy’s spine and her toes curled when she felt his hand slide around and under her. She pouted slightly when Spike’s hand came to rest on her stomach. She wanted his nimble fingers on her teasing and tweaking her aching nub until she came apart on his cock, screaming his name. Instead he cradled her stomach in his hand and continued to pump in and out of her depths. His hips never missing a beat as he plunged into her over and over. Her mouth opened and a croak escaped, nothing more.

“Lost your voice, pet?” Spike teased as he stilled inside her, revelling in her heat and the tight muscles that gripped his cock in a silken vice. “Oi, no need to do that.” His voice rose to a very unmanly squeak when she rippled her inner muscles in a wave along his very happy cock. “God, those muscles will be the death of me. Do it again pet, please,” he begged and a look of sublime joy spread across his face when Buffy complied.

In retaliation, Spike slipped his hand up from her stomach between her breasts and then lifted her body off the bed, careful to keep her impaled on his cock, which had swollen even more and was pulsing in time to his ragged breaths. Buffy’s eyes widened as the angle of penetration changed as she leaned back against his chest. She reached up and wrapped one arm around the back of Spike’s neck, the other hand she laid over his where it still rested between her breasts.

“Love you so much, Spike,” she whispered hoarsely. She shuffled her knees further apart and laid her feet over the back of his ankles. She rested the back of her head on his shoulder, allowing Spike access to her shoulder and throat. He pressed a kiss on his marks and purred against her; inhaling deeply he took in the rich scent of her body. The faint floral perfume that she wore was now overlaid with the perfume of her arousal and his scent. A combination of the two of them, which was by far the best thing he had ever smelled or tasted.

Spike pressed a fervent kiss to her throat over his marks at the sound of her croaky admission. He knew now that she had meant it all those months ago, when they had clasped hands and watched as they had burst into supernatural flames and she had declared her love. He would never reject that precious gift again. All day she had whispered and screamed her love to him. Determined to make sure he believed her, she had initiated a claim on him to make sure there were no more doubts in his mind over who she wanted in her bed, in her life and by her side in a fight.

Him, not Peaches.

Not the enormous Hall monitor Finn or best of all, not the preening ninny the Immortal. Spike smirked and curled his tongue against the back of his teeth and pushed his cock further into her soft depths.

The firecracker that he had initially lusted after from the moment he’d seen her bopping around on the long gone dance floor of the Bronze, was his. That self same lust that had developed into a sick obsession and finally into one-sided love, a love that she had denied. An obsessive love that had nearly destroyed them both on that cursed bathroom floor-- but now it was a reciprocated love.

A good one, with no bitter aftertastes. One with no ‘if onlys’ attached to it. There was a purity to it that was almost incongruous.

Buffy loved him. William the Bloody awful poet. William the Bloody one quarter of the Scourge of Europe. Spike the punk vampire who had roared into her town ready to save his sire. Spike the chipped and finally, Spike the souled vampire. She loved all of him and he loved her with every fibre of his being.

“Spiiikkkee,” Buffy begged breathily. Her hand slipped down her body to where they were still joined. Spike shook his head realising that he had been lost in thought and hadn’t moved. He laced his fingers with hers and together they rubbed at her clit, slowly at first and then faster and faster. Spike’s fangs slipped in and out of his marks teasingly.

Buffy clutched at the back of his neck, trying to anchor herself in the maelstrom of emotions and feelings that Spike was evoking in her body. He was trying to drive her slowly out of her mind by creating so much bliss within her that she was sure she would either pass out or die from it. The sweet sting of his fangs dipping in and out of her willing flesh, followed by the cool touch of his tongue, was starting to make her light-headed.

She wanted more.

Since biting him and claiming him as hers, Buffy had known that Spike was never leaving her again. The look of astonishment in his eyes had reminded her of the moment she had walked down the stairs after her resurrection. When he had reciprocated the claim with his own, all the barriers came down between them and he had allowed her in. And she was staying.

Spike slid his fingers past her engorged clit and splayed around his cock, passionately caressing her swollen folds. Buffy’s breath caught in her throat as she continued to move on him. He kept still, allowing her to set the pace. The sensation of feeling his cock moving in and out of her opening was his undoing. With a growl that shook the crystal in the chandelier, Spike sank his fangs into her willing throat. His hand slipped upwards, batting her hand away and moved in a blur over her clit. His free hand fondled her breasts, teasing her hard nipples with pinches and gentle tugs.

Buffy came apart on his cock with a deep moan; her entire body seized for a moment and then went limp. Her hands dropped to her sides-- the only things holding her up were Spike’s hands, his cock and his fangs in her throat. Spike pulled out of her, worry causing his face to shift. He staunched the flow of blood from the bites and laid Buffy down on her back.

“Love, are you still with me?” He knelt over Buffy and ran the back of his hand down over her cheek.

“Hmmm,” Buffy moaned and stretched happily. She wriggled her toes into the crumpled sheets and raised her arms weakly towards Spike.

“Christ woman, you scared the hell out of me. Thought I’d shagged you to death,” Spike grinned, pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth.

“Nearly have, but don’t stop now.” Buffy smiled coyly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his unresisting body over hers. Her legs parted automatically and she sighed happily as his cock slid home. “Once more?” she asked hopefully and batted her eyelashes at her shaven-headed mate.

“Who am I to deny you anything, my love,” Spike whispered against her lips before claiming them for a heated kiss.

Buffy’s inner thighs were slippery with her secretions; she tipped her hips upwards and cradled him in her depths. Spike moaned into her open mouth at the heated wetness of her body, her pussy lips clinging to his cock as it slid in and out of her. Buffy trailed her feet along the back of his calves and upwards until the soles of her feet rested on his upper thighs. She could feel his muscles moving under the skin as

Spike pumped in and out of her at a slow pace.

He kept his eyes open, watching every nuance of her face, each smile, sigh and flutter of her lashes. Spike was counting backwards under his breath, determined to draw it out as much as he could but her soft sigh of contentment was his undoing. A white-hot bolt of pleasure shot down his spine to his balls as he came. Spike’s body jerked over and over as he filled her with his cum. His shaking hand slid between their heaving bodies and he brought her tumbling over into the abyss.

~~~~~

Buffy giggled.

‘Spike snores, who’da thunk?’ She rolled onto her side and stared lovingly down at the comatose vampire next her. He was fast asleep on his back, one hand resting on his muscled stomach and the other curled around her. His mouth was open and another snore escaped. Buffy plastered herself against his side and reached up and ran her hand over his skull. Her fingers rubbed the shorn hair that adorned it. It was soft and scratchy and made him look ten years younger, more vulnerable and his ears looked so exposed without his crowning glory of peroxided curls.

She trailed a finger down his aquiline nose and traced around his full open lips. Spike blinked his eyes open sleepily; turning his head he smiled at her happily. Contentment oozed from all pores, he pressed a kiss to her fingers and sighed his blissful satisfaction.

“You’re all mine,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“And you’re mine, pet. Not letting you go. Not letting you out of this bed!” Spike mumbled tiredly. He was all shagged out for now.

With that, the newly mated couple drifted off to sleep.
 
Chapter Ten
 
Spike ghosted his knuckles along her jaw line and grinned at the look of intense concentration on his love’s face as she chopped up some fresh tomatoes to toss into the salad she’d made to go with the pasta dish that was simmering on the hob. It was nearly dawn and the satiated couple had been forced from their bed in search of food. To Spike’s utter shock, Buffy began to pull out veggies and pasta and began to cook.

“Lemme guess, the prancing ninny taught you to cook?” Spike leant against the black granite counter and watched as his girl moved around the kitchen, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth as she concentrated on the cooking.

“His name is Paolo and yeah he did, honey. He taught me how not to burn water and put together a few dishes.” She teasingly tapped Spike on the nose with her spatula. “He’s a good cook, waaay better than Andrew, but he’s working on that.” She wrinkled her nose teasingly and then popped a chopped carrot into Spike’s mouth to stop him grumbling.

“Sodding git, trying to get into my girl’s knickers,” Spike folded his arms over his chest and watched Buffy’s heart-shaped backside with appreciation as she laid the table. If he had his way they would never eat with clothes on again. In fact, if he got his way he was going to keep her naked for the rest of her life.

Buffy giggled when she heard his muttered grumbles, and then turned to face him. She guffawed at the look of confusion on Spike’s face. Her eyes watered as she continued to laugh at him. Spike glanced hesitantly down, worried that the sight of his not so erect cock was the cause of her mirth. ‘Nope, doesn’t look too small…she does realise vamp here and there are body temperature issues and stuff?’
Buffy pointed at him and giggled even more.

“Right love, that’s enough, s’not good for the naked vamp to have his mate point at him and laugh, could lead to issues. You do know there’s shrinkage when you’re wafting around in cool air right? Bit like cold water…”

“Mmmph…” Buffy clapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. “Okay I…I’ll…stop…” She took a deep breath and then looked over at Spike and giggled again. “Sorry…sorry.” She waved her hands apologetically at him and then composed herself.

“What’s so ruddy funny?” Spike frowned, his eyes filled with puzzlement.

“Oh boy, for a guy who prides himself on being Mr Observypants and ‘tell ‘em as it you see it you really have missed it, haven’t you?” Buffy walked towards him and reached out and traced her fingers over the light stubble that was growing where his eyebrows had been. “You’re too cute.”

Spike looked affronted. “M’not cute, I’m handsome and manly!” Trying very hard not to pout when she erupted into giggles again.

“Sure honey, you are.” Buffy smiled indulgently at him and stood on her tiptoes and gave him a sweet kiss. As she pulled back Spike leant over and tried to follow her lips, his eyes half closed in pleasure. A purry rumble erupted from his chest.

“Paolo is gay, has been gay since the 1960s. He dropped some acid on a visit with the Marishini in India and achieved clarity or something—” Buffy commented baldy and then with an impish smirk at the look of utter shock on her vampire’s face, she turned to serve the pasta into a big bowl. “Come on handsome, dinner’s ready.”

“Beg your pardon?” Spike’s customary cockney accent vanished in his surprise and was replaced with a very upper crust one. “Gay, you say?” He winced internally, realising that he sounded just like William the weeny.

“Yup.”

“He’s a poofter?” Spike asked quizzically as he took a place at the table.

“Yup.”

“He likes boys?”

“Men and yup.” Buffy served some pasta into a bowl and handed it to Spike.

“And I offered for him to bugger me! Christ pet, you’ll keep me safe, right?” Spike teased as he fed her a spoonful of Penne which she chewed and swallowed with relish. Her body was craving carbs after the sexual workout of the past few hours.

“Sure I will, but Spike, you don’t have to worry, you’re not his type at all.” Buffy plucked a small cherry tomato out of the salad and popped it into her mouth. “Anyway, he’s dating Andrew, they’re sooooo
cute together.”

“Do what? The Grandpooba is shaggin the Geekboy? Seriously?” Spike’s jaw dropped at this final revelation.

“Yup, been together for almost eight months.” Buffy picked through the salad searching for some pine nuts. Finding a few, she popped them into her mouth and smirked at the expression of amazement on her Big Bad’s face.

Spike’s entire being filled with glee at her revelation. The Immortal was a poofter and shacked up with Andrew. His unlife couldn’t be any better. All those months he’d torn himself apart wondering what the bastard had been doing to Buffy and he was a poof! And Buffy was his…no ifs, buts or maybes. She was all his and he was never letting her go.

“You’re feeling all kinds of smug right now, aren’t yah?” Buffy teased as she ate with gusto. The smirk that had spread across her mate’s face had made her grin. Despite all his outward confidence, Spike was insecure in love. He chased it will gusto and never quite got it. Until now. She was not letting him go ever again.

“Love, you have any idea the mental hell I put myself through thinking about his sweaty mitts on your divine bod?” Spike stared at his bowl in surprise, not only had he eaten it all, but it had tasted good and not of her usual charcoal.

“He had me in chains once, y’know, me and Angelus, while he rogered Darla and Dru six ways to Sunday. Hated his guts for that, and then—” Spike gritted his teeth at the embarrassing memory of being arrested for tax evasion because of a tip off from the nonce.

“The tax thing, right?” Buffy looked sympathetically over at him. “Paolo felt really bad about that but he heard you and Dru were planning to go on a killing spree during the Papal conclave. What was he supposed to do? Dust you both?” She frowned, wondering why Paolo hadn’t dusted them. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t dusted vamps for less in the past. Had he known what was to come? Buffy made a mental note to cross-examine Paolo as soon as he and the others got back from the Spa.

Spike’s eyes widened and guilt tore through him. “How’d he know about Dru’s plans?”

“Dru told him.” Buffy ducked her head and avoided his penetrating gaze.

“Do I want to know how and where Dru was when she was telling him?” Spike cocked his head. She had never been able to keep her knees together when it came to the nit.

“Nope. Here, have some salad.” She thrust the salad bowl under his nose trying to distract him. There was no way they were having the Dru talk, not after their whole mutual claimage. That would be a mood killer to say the least. Spike took the bowl that was thrust under his nose and put it aside.

“Come ’ere love.” He reached over and pushed the plates aside and coaxed Buffy onto the table. He could sense her discomfort over mentioning his ex and all he wanted to do was reassure her. He watched as she slid over the table on her butt and hopped onto his lap, her legs spread on either side of his, cradling his erection between her soaked cleft. They rocked against each other, exchanging soft and sweet kisses. Buffy’s hands curled around his shoulders and she kneaded the strong muscles there with her fingers as her legs twined around his, anchoring herself to him.

“Christ Slayer, you’re killing me,” Spike gasped against her throat as he rained kisses along the slender column. He looked up at her with fathomless blue eyes, all his adoration and love evident in their azure depths. He rested his forehead against hers and looked down at his cock cradled between her swollen lips. He could feel her coarse curls tickling the sides and tip as he slithered back and forth. The purple head was coated with her juices and gleamed in the artificial light. “Lemme in, pet…I need in.” The urgency in his voice lowered it to a rasp.

He ran his hands over her body, clutching her backside and trying to raise her up high enough to slide in. Buffy twisted her hips and snickered as she caught his lower lip in her teeth and gave it a good nibble. Then when she started to feel his cock twitch in that familiar way, signalling he was about to erupt all over her, she twisted out of his hands and then let him in.

With a relieved sigh, Spike sank into her soaked depths. The heat that was radiating off her body was warming him right through. His hips lurched upwards over and over as he drove himself into her.

“God…so bloody tight—” Spike’s head lolled back as he tried to control himself, his neck corded with the effort and Buffy couldn’t resist. She leant over and ran her teeth along the muscles and tendons that caught her attention. “Yes…Christ, don’t stop—” Spike’s hand left her hips and roamed impatiently over her chest, teasing her breasts and gently tugging on her hard nipples. Unable to stop himself he ran his calloused hands over her shaking body in exploration, tracing every dip and curve. Buffy moaned in addicted pleasure. Her senses were on overload. She felt like a rag doll-- completely boneless. Just one touch of his hands and she was putty in them.

The only sounds in the large kitchen were the noise of their bodies smacking together as the two lovers worked themselves into a sexual frenzy.

“Not enough,” Spike growled as he lurched to his feet, carrying Buffy’s straining body with him. He laid her down on the table, making sure that his cock stayed inside her twitching depths. Buffy lay back on the cool surface with a happy sigh. She draped her arms over her head and wrapped her fingers over the edge of the table behind her head, anchoring herself.

“That’s better. Can get to all of you now, pet.” Spike ran his hands down her sides and with a cheeky grin, gave her a tickle. His eyes crossed when Buffy giggled, her famed Slayer muscles nearly ripping his dick off. In retaliation he swooped down on one of her pert nipples and sucked it into his mouth.

Buffy arched her back with a moan, offering herself even more to him. His hand brushed over her throat and over her shoulders, clutching them tight as he continued to pump into her. With every stroke of his cock he angled himself so as to catch her clit on each downward stroke. Her hands squeezed the edge of the table reflexively, bracing herself against his avid thrusts as Spike played her body with finesse, raising her closer and closer to heaven.

Spike’s hips never lost a beat as they pumped in and out of her opening, slamming into her over and over. In contrast to this roughness, he trailed light kisses over her heaving breasts and reverently pressed a chaste kiss on the diamond hard tip of each quivering peak.

“Spike…Spike…I…need more…” Buffy panted as she rolled her head from side to side.

“I’ve got you love…don’t worry.” Spike’s face shifted and his fangs dropped. Buffy moaned at the sensation of his change against her skin. His right hand slipped up and cradled the back of her head to stop her from hurting herself. He cocked his head and listened as her breath caught in her throat, the familiar sounds signalling to him that she was close.

She slid her legs from around his waist and rested her heels on the table, pushing her hips up to meet each stroke. Soft grunts issued from her half open mouth. Buffy’s eyes were slitted as she focused her energy on driving them both over the edge.

Spike raked his fangs over the underside of her breasts, savouring the fine flavour of her skin and the moisture that had collected in the crease. Fine red lines appeared as he turned his attention to one puckered nub.

“Yesss—” Buffy’s voice echoed with anticipation of his bite. With a purring growl Spike sank his fangs into her shaking breast; he had aimed carefully, avoiding the nipple.

His hand released its grip from her shoulder and reached between their bodies, aiming unerringly for her clit. Slipping through the copious moisture there, he pinched the erect nub in time to the gulps of blood he was pulling from the wounds on her bosom. Occasionally stopping and allowing blood to pool in the vacuum his mouth created around her nipple, his tongue swirled around the still peaked nub before gulping down the crimson fluid. Spike could feel his body responding to the infusion of her powerful lust laden blood and he hardened even more.

“Oh god,” she cried out at the overload of sensations. Spike was playing her body like a virtuoso, his nimble fingers twisting and flicking her clit while his cock slid in and out of her swollen cleft. And then his fangs were embedded in her breast and creating the ecstasy that was driving her steadily insane. Her eyes rolled up in her head and her body seized, crying out Spike's name at the top of her lungs as she came. Spike tasted the lust and her release in her blood as he supped on her breast and as her inner muscles rippled in orgasm around his cock, he came with a muffled howl.

Buffy collapsed on her back, her physical energy temporarily worn out. It took several long moments of deep breaths to slow her racing heart. Spike collapsed on her limp body with a sigh, his face shifting and his fangs retracted out of the small wounds surrounding her nipple. He closed the wounds with a few deft licks of his tongue.

“Best not tell the Nib wot we got upto on the dinner table, might put her off eating for life,” Spike whispered against her heated skin.

“Eww…Spike that’s gross.” Buffy tried to wrap her limp arms around him but failed. “Spike, I don’t think I can move.”

“Me either. I think I lost the use of my legs; you’ve shagged me silly.” Spike levered himself up with a happy groan. “Come on, let’s get some kip.” He cradled Buffy’s limp body against his chest and kissed her smiling lips. His semi hard cock remained in her as Spike began to walk back to their bedroom.

Kicking the door closed behind them, Spike staggered to the bed and turning, he fell backwards with a contented sigh. Buffy hung onto him like a limpet and reached up for one final kiss. Pulling back she gave a kittenish yawn and then tucked her head under his chin.

“Welcome home, Spike…love you,” she whispered drowsily and then fell asleep.

“Love you too, Buffy.” Spike sighed contentedly. He pressed a kiss to her sweat soaked curls and followed her into the arms of Morpheus. The two Champions, finally reunited and bonded for all eternity, were at peace.

For now.

 
Epilogue
 
The machines beeped and the slow steady sound slowly got faster and faster.

His eyes flickered.



Muscles twitched.



Then the patient’s dark brown eyes snapped open.



“What the hell?” a rough voice rasped, alerting the nurse who was monitoring his vitals.



“Oh good. Senor Angel, you are awake. Your friends will be so pleased to see that you are back weeth us—” Her voice trailed off when his hand snapped around her throat, cutting off her air supply.



“No need to call anyone babe, let’s surprise them.” Her dark haired patient grinned. He tried to vamp out but nothing happened. “What the?”



“Please…no—” The nurse clutched weakly at his wrist and tried to pry his fingers off her throat. Black spots danced at the edge of her vision as her oxygen supply was cut off.



“Who did this to me?” he shouted as he shook his captive like a cat playing with a mouse. “And what the hell happened to my other arm?”



“Fight…you lost it…” she managed to rasp out.



“Not the only thing I lost—” Angelus’s lips curled back with a rictus-like grin as he snapped her neck with one hand and threw the body to the floor. He ripped off the oxygen mask with his remaining hand and using his teeth, pulled the IV out. As he did a flash of a memory crossed his mind and he roared with laughter.



The idiot had lost his soul-- not between the juicy thighs of the Slayer, but because he defeated the Circle of the Black Thorn and the Senior Partners. The irony wasn’t lost on him. The idiot had gotten what he had fought for despite signing it away. He’d gotten his chance to live again but had lost his soul before he could enjoy it. “Too fucking funny.”



He staggered to his feet and swayed as he adjusted to being upright. “This will not do.” Angelus pressed his hand to his chest and grimaced at the sensation of his heart beating. “I’m not going to be a sweating mewling mortal! This is some kinda cosmic joke.” Angelus kicked the dead body of the woman who had watched over him from the moment he had been admitted and then stepped over her. Heading for the closet, he pulled it open and stared in shock at the slacks that were hanging there.



“Where the hell are my leather trousers?” He pulled out the clothes and yanked them on angrily. He fumbled with his zipper, eventually managing to pull it up one handed. “Geez, he is such a fashion victim.” Angelus reached up with his one hand and ran it over his head, checking his hair.



The howl of anger that burst from his mouth when his questing fingers found the bald spots alerted the attention of another nurse. “Not my hair!”



Angelus turned with a sly smile. “Looks like I get two for the price of one.” He punched the young woman in the face. As she fell backwards the dark haired man grabbed hold of a chair and brought it down on her back over and over until he heard her spine crack.



“Much better.” He squatted and rifled through both dead women’s pockets, searching for the keys to their lockers. Blood dripped from his face, unnoticed by the soulless man. Angelus chuckled at the sight of the broken body of the nurse. “Usually like to finesse my victims. Sorry, you must feel left out. Don’t worry, next one I’ll make sure she screams enough for the both of you.”



He opened the valve on the oxygen hose and, using a lighter he’d liberated from the second nurse’s pocket, he set fire to the foot of the bed he had been lying in. Angelus tucked his hand in his pocket and left the room without a backward glance, his cheerful whistle as he strode down the corridor muffled by the explosion. Stopping briefly to clear out their lockers and the other ones nearby.



There was chaos in the private hospital, just as he had planned. Something to cover his escape and the two murders he’d just committed. The first of many. Angelus ducked out of the ward door and deftly sidestepped an orderly. He threw back his head and laughed, revelling in the drama that he had created, and of the human suffering that he had instigated. Angelus headed for the large glass entrance doors, unaware of the one eyed man who stood in the shadows, watching him.



“Time to have some fun.” Angelus chuckled as he sprinted from the private hospital into the Roman sunlight.





Finis