Buffy emerged from the steaming shower to find the gas logs burning fiercely in the fireplace and Spike holding out a cup of hot chocolate. She reached for it, but hissed in pain. She had bandaged her hand in a damp washcloth and it protested as she opened it to accept the mug. The injury was bad and she expected a jagged scar to remind her of their little fight on the beach for the rest of her life.

Spike set the cocoa aside. Trying to ignore how irresistible she looked in his button down shirt, he reached for her hand, peeling the cloth away. “You did this to yourself. Good thing for you that I’m so calm and able to control myself or you’d be floating face down in the water.”

She smiled, watching as he assessed the damage. It amazed her how violent he could be one minute and then gentle in the next. It felt like an eternity ago that he had held her hand the same way, soothing the abraded flesh that she had torn while emerging from her coffin. Her hand, mangled though it was, looked right in his. “So, will I live?”

He frowned. “We need to clean it.”

“I just got out of the shower.”

“We’re cleaning it.”

With a sigh, she followed him into the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the tub, she watched as he rifled through his medicine cabinet. Her eyes widened when he pulled out a large bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Put your hand over the sink.”

“It’s not gonna happen.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you really going to make me force you?”

“Do you really have that much of a death wish?”

He uncapped the bottle, set it on the edge of the sink and grabbed her, lightning quick, around the waist. He held her suspended in his arms and cocked an eyebrow. “You can’t threaten me and then not fight me, luv.”

Her breath had caught in her throat the minute he pulled her against him. Without a word she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with everything she had. He didn’t try to pull away. His hands moved to her backside and she wrapped her legs around him, aching with need. She felt him massaging her backside, felt him turn her so that his back was against the wall, and just like their first time, she reached between them and unzipped his pants.

“Buffy-”

“Shut up!”

Lifting herself, she positioned him at her entrance, then slammed down against him. Buffy cried out, her voice hoarse and sharp. It was like a hunger that had been close to starving her had finally been sated. She pressed her forehead against his and pushed further, driving him as far as he could go. Complete. She was finally complete.

Her legs tightened and loosened around his waist as she rode him. Their grunts and moans were loud in the silent bathroom, but their lust made them deaf to anything other than the screaming of their bodies. She gripped handfuls of his shirt, resenting that it was there, but unable to stop touching him long enough to rip it from him.

Her orgasm was swift. It hit her with the force of a bomb and she thrashed so wildly that Spike had to slam her down onto the sink to help balance her. For his part, he continued to drive into her, mumbling her name. He tasted her throat, her kiss, her earlobe. As he neared completion, he reached between them, manipulating her core with his thumb.

The next orgasm hit her with the force of a hundred bombs and she threw her head back, yelling his name. It was enough. He growled, spilling himself deep within her womb.

“Luv-”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just don’t move.”

He stared down at her injured hand. It was resting on the rim of the sink. Wordlessly, he picked up the bottle and splashed an ungodly amount on her hand.

When she screamed his name this time .... he knew it was best to run.


Part Eleven:

"And you own this?" Willow stared up the elevators that were ascending and descending in the main lobby of Wolfram and Hart at breakneck speed. The building was crawling with workers even though it was after midnight. "Wow."


"I run it." Angel motioned for a couple of the mailroom clerks to join him. "Please see that this luggage is taken to the guest suites on the tenth floor."


"Yes, sir. Right away, sir," the clerk replied, nodding at Angel.


Xander happily handed off the pile of luggage with a cross between a grin and a groan. "I think I’ll have to marry a chiropractor if we do much more traveling."


No one laughed. Giles watched as a Seckorcha demon emerged from an elevator, spoke in rapid Korchan to a Plythe demon, then threw up a hand to Angel and made his way to the restrooms. "They don’t need a restroom," he said absently. "Seckorcha demons have no -"


"That isn’t really a bathroom. It’s the doorway to the RealmWorld." Angel moved across the lobby.


"Wow. Eat a little something bad and run in there and you may wind up in troll land." Xander went for the punchline with gusto, but again, no one said anything. Giles joined Angel on the other side of the room, deep in conversation. "Am I invisible?"


Willow leaned closer to him. "In case you’ve failed to notice what is clearly right in front of you, Angel is pissed and judging by the way he mangled Buffy’s new purse, I’d say it has something to do with her."


"I thought he hated the color."


Dawn, overhearing the conversation, said softly, "It would be best to keep her away from him."


"What did you do?" Willow asked.


"Why does everyone assume I did something?"


"What did you do?" Xander asked again.


"Fine. I have a big mouth!"


She told them what happened.


They agreed with her.


The tenth floor of Wolfram and Hart was lavishly decorated and even more impressive than the lobby. The floor was tiled in large squares that appeared to be handpainted and the wallpaper matched it perfectly. Even the ceiling was impressive. Xander whistled. "Can I have a job? I mean, most people hate their boss anyway, right?"


Angel smiled a little on that one and paused in front of a door. He held out a card key to Xander. "I’ll let you know if something opens up in the mess hall."


"Ouch." Xander accepted the key and let himself in. The room was enough to make him accept that offer if it had been genuine.


Willow and Dawn were equally impressed and Giles could have squealed in delight when he saw the floor to ceiling bookcases in his room that were stocked with rare demonology texts. When Angel shut the door, the man was already pulling a book on Realms out of the pile with the delicate touch of a surgeon.


Dawn cleared her throat behind Angel. He regarded her. "Is something wrong with your room?"


"No."


"Do you need something else?"


"Leave them alone." She crossed her arms. "I’ve seen that look before. Granted, you were Angelus then, but I’ve seen it and you plan on ruining things for them. Don’t you?"


Angel softened his glare for her benefit. "No. I plan on talking to them. I want to understand it. I want to know what happened."


"It’s none of your business."


Angel shook his head. "No, but it matters to me."


She watched him go.


*~*~*


Buffy lay on her back, spent, as Spike kissed a lazy trail across her stomach. Her hand, freshly bandaged and extremely clean, rested at her side. She smiled, eyes closed, as he inched lower and lower. She felt him kiss her thigh, kiss her pelvic bone, and held her breath. Several seconds passed with no further attention and she raised up on her elbow. "I haven’t forgiven you yet."


"And I’m not going to move until you do. So, say it."


She narrowed her eyes. "That won’t work on me."


He licked his lips, slowly and purposefully. Her eyes were drawn to his mouth and the desire that had flared and been quenched four times now, began to build again. She lifted her hips a little, but he didn’t take the bait. She drew her fingertips across her chest, then down to her stomach. "I’ll do it myself."


"Not if I break your good hand."


She wrapped her legs around his head and easily flipped him. She eased back, resting her bottom against his chest as she sat astride him. "We can do this the easy way or -"


He yanked her forward so that she was sitting on his face.


Buffy laughed, then moaned as he showed her exactly why she would forgive him. And probably not mind if he did something else to annoy her.


Later, she lay against his chest, attempting to stifle a yawn. Her body, which usually felt far too tense, was limp, finally surfeited. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, on the eve of burying her mother, but it was there ... she felt fine for the first time since he left. Facing tomorrow felt easier, like something she could do very well instead of muddle through and survive.


"What are you thinking, pet?"


"About mom."


Spike kissed her forehead. "She was a good woman."


"Yeah."


"You’re a lot like her, you know?"


"I am?"


Spike lifted her hand, tracing her fingers. "Same able hands. She hit me in the head with an axe once. Rivaled anytime you ever hit me. Same smile. Same forgiving nature. She understood me the way you do. No one has ever done that before. Not even Dru."


Buffy nodded. "Sometimes I miss her so much that I can’t breathe because it hurts so bad."


It was the first time she had volunteered to talk about it and that made him happy. "You always will. I hate to say that, but the missing never goes away. It just gets a little easier. Or maybe you get used to it and it stops surprising you after a while."


"That was kinda deep."


"I’m not always shallow."


"No, never you!" She smiled. "Seeing her again was incredible. And terrible. And hard. And beautiful. I’m just kinda grateful that I got to see her one last time. I lost everything I had of hers in Sunnydale."


"You still have the important stuff, love."


"Yeah," she replied in a small voice. Reaching up, she touched the necklace that rested on his chest. "I was thinking ... maybe she sent you back for me. I kept asking anyone to help me."


"Maybe she did."


"So you shouldn’t disappoint her. You should go ahead and promise me that we’re us. We’re together, right?"


"If I haven’t shown you that then I’m losing my touch."


She leaned up on her elbow and stared at him. "I’m serious. I need to know what happens now."


"We can’t decide everything in one night. We’re together, Buffy. We’ll decide what that means tomorrow after you get through everything and have a clear head."


"My mind is clear right now. Will you come to Italy?"


"I hate Italy. You come here."


"Yeah, because Angel would LOVE the entire us aspect of this scenario."


"He sat on my sofa telling me to love you, begging me to make this work. He’s okay with it. And California is your home, not Italy."


"Let me think about it."


She laid her head back down and closed her eyes. It was like he had the entire world in the palm of his hand and was giving her the power to spin it and decide where to go. She wanted him, that much she was sure of. Dawn would have to be considered. The school for Potentials was in Europe and she was required there occasionally. Could she handle her friends being on the other side of the world?


He was worth it.


Spike smiled when he heard her breathing grow steady and her body relax even more in his arms. She was exhausted.


He stared down at her for the longest time, wondering how he had gotten so lucky.


*~*~


Long before he exited the elevator on Spike’s floor, Angel could smell her, the heady vanilla scent that always surrounded her. Frowning, he caught the scent of something else: her blood and her arousal. He wasn’t sure which was more unsettling. Neither made him very comfortable. He strode purposefully forward, rapping hard on the door three times. He heard a door squeak open, a muffled curse, and felt infuriated. It was so *pedestrian* to think that Spike was on the other side with Buffy acting like a mortal fool in love. Damn them both, he thought.


Several seconds passed and he pounded his fist against the polished wood. "Open the damn door, Spike."


Obliging, Spike yanked the door open, looking far too happy and entirely too satisfied with himself. "Whatever it is can wait."


His voice was the catalyst and the smug look on his face was all the incentive Angel needed. Grabbing Spike, he lifted him by the throat and slammed him back against a set of coat hooks that hung on the wall. "Did you actually try to rape her? Oh, wait, she just likes it rough. Didn’t you tell me that once?"


Spike, stunned and slightly addled, shoved Angel away from him and dropped to the floor. "What the hell are you doing?"


"Dawn told me what you tried to do to Buffy."


"What the fuck are you talking about?" Spike attempted to reach the spot on his back that throbbed. "And ow."


"You used to say you didn’t have to rape anyone. That all the women would fall at the feet of ‘William the Bloody’ and beg for what you had to offer."


"I was a stupid fledgling then, you bloody blighter. We were all cocky back then!"


"This is why you got your soul? Not because you loved her so much but because you tried to force yourself on her and the little idiot STILL let you hang around."


"You don’t know everything."


"Do I really need to? You both make me sick. You deserve each other!"


"It wasn’t what you’re thinking. I was wrong, yes. But she always told me no. It was a game we played. She’s pretend to be high and mighty and too good for me and after a few minutes of me working her up she’d go along. The night it happened was no different. I didn’t know how serious she was until I had gone too far."


"She always told you no? So much for women falling at your feet."


Spike’s jaw tightened. "She’s in my bed right now isn’t she?!"


"You son of a bitch!" Angel growled, leaping toward his opponent again.


They scuffled for a few seconds until Spike pushed him away. "She’s exhausted, Angel! She’s burying her mother tomorrow. Sit down before you wake her up."


"Don’t tell me what to do."


"Do you want a drink?" Spike asked, going to the bar and pouring himself a double shot of whiskey.


"I want to stake you."

"Well, don’t. She’d kill you and then she’d be alone again."


"You’re awful sure of yourself and what she would-" Angel trailed off.


The bedroom door opened and Buffy emerged. She was wearing one of Spike’s shirts and her hair was a sticking up all over her head. Angel didn’t want to contemplate what could have caused it. "Buffy." He nodded pensively at her and crossed his arms. The urge to put a stop to whatever truce they had reached was powerful and his mind was already preparing ways to do just that.


"Is something wrong?" she asked, looking from one to the other with a bewildered look on her face.


It pissed Angel off that she could stand there looking innocent and adorable after clearly being fucked to within an inch of her life. "We need to talk," he finally ground out.


"Angel here has come to pass judgment on us, Slayer."


Buffy sighed and ran a hand over her face. "Before anyone passes anything I need a minute."


Spike watched her retreat into the bedroom and poured himself another drink, not because he wanted it, but to give him something to do. "She’s been through a lot, Angel. Why don’t you go sleep on whatever crawled up your dainty ass and let it blow over? She doesn’t need this and she definitely doesn’t deserve it."


"Isn’t that cute. What are you? Her champion?"


"Maybe I am."


"You love her, huh?"


"You asked me to love her? Remember?"


"That was before I knew."


"Knew what? That I fucked up? Yeah, I fucked up. Our entire situation is fucked up. She’s a soddin’ Slayer and I’m a vampire. That’s a fucked up mess right there, innit? What we had wasn’t perfect, but it was real."


"So real that you had to force her everytime. You just said that she always said no."


"Stop it!" Buffy yelled. She had dressed in her clothing from earlier and had piled her hair into a sloppy knot on top of her head. Directing her attention to Angel she said, "What the hell is wrong with you?"


"I know he tried to rape you."


"You’re actually going to stand there acting like you have a single right in this world to act pissed off when YOU tried to kill me? In the grand scheme of things, Angel, I’d say that ranks a little higher on the ‘wrong doing’ scale. "


Angel shook his head. "You can’t compare that. It was completely different."


"Oh, hell, Angel! You would have done the same thing to me if you hadn’t been so consumed with ending the world! You just didn’t think of it!"


"And you would have let me. Just the way you let him!" Angel accused.


"I certainly would NOT have," she shouted. "You would have ripped my throat out if you had gotten within ten feet of me!"


"He crossed a line and you’re defending him!"


"No, I’m not. What he did was wrong and he paid for it! I made peace with it, Angel, and we moved on."


"This is disgusting." Angel threw his hands in the air. "It’s sickening and it’s wrong. How can you let him touch you?"


"The same damn way I let you touch me after you killed Jenny, after you terrorized me and my friends for months, after you tried to end the fucking world! If we’re going to air our dirty laundry then lets empty the whole basket and not the comfortable things."


"I didn’t have a soul!"


"Neither did I," Spike replied, trying to keep his cool as he watched Buffy’s face grow redder and redder with anger.


"I’m not doing this anymore!" Buffy shouted as Angel opened his mouth to respond. "I’m just trying to live my life and be happy. Why can’t you accept that he makes me happy? Why can’t we just stop? Just stop and let it go?"


"Because you should have more self worth than this!" Angel yelled. "Sleep with dogs, Buffy, and you’ll wake up with fleas."


"Wouldn’t I know that first hand," she responded, looking him up and down.


"What is that supposed to mean?"


"Exactly what you think it did, Angel. I slept with *you* and look what happened. Nothing surprises me at this point."


Angel made a move for Buffy, but Spike leaped it front of her. "Don’t do it, mate."


"No, let him do it!" Buffy shouted, and promptly burst into tears.


Spike swore as she lost the battle she had been fighting to hang onto her composure. Several big tears slipped over her cheeks and he went to her, pulling her against him. "Don’t, baby."


Angel couldn’t stop himself. Their tender moment was too much to endure without a parting shot. What had he been thinking, giving Spike the go ahead. Witnessing it was more than anyone could expect him to do. He headed toward the door, then paused. "I got a call from Harmony. She’ll be back tomorrow. You’ll want to let her know, Spike, since she’s been telling everyone about your plans to move in together." With that, he strode from the room.


Spike felt Buffy tense in his arms and tried to laugh it off. "He’s not good at losing."


"Is it true?" she asked.


"I’m not with her NOW. He lied to you. She’s gone to-."


"Did you sleep with her?" The look on his face was all the answer she needed.


"No. Yes, but not the entire time. Right when I got back and I wasn’t a ghost anymore -"


"Shut up!" Buffy grabbed her shoes and slipped them on. "So that it explains it then. Why you stayed away."


"No it does not! It bloody well does not explain a damned thing, Buffy." He grabbed her arm as she headed for the door. "You’re not leaving."


"Let go of me!" she screamed, pushing him back with enough force that he flipped over a chair. She watched as he righted himself. "Have a nice fucking life."


Part Twelve

By the time Spike dressed and reached the parking garage there was no sign of her. He attempted to scent her, but all he caught was the smell of the ocean and the faint trace of someone who hadn’t bathed in a while. Probably someone homeless. Spike tried to keep his composure as he chose a car from the line of top notch vehicles and started the engine. Two things were certain ... Buffy would come back to him or Angel would die. Hopefully both.


He drove around the perimeter of the block then expanded to cover a couple of outer streets. She couldn’t have gotten far. On his second pass by Wolfram and Hart, Angel flagged him down. Spike stopped the car but seriously contemplated hitting him first. "What?" he snarled as he rolled the window down.


Angel’s guilt over the entire situation was too much to bear. He had been going back to apologize and tell the truth about Harmony and Spike when he got word that Buffy had left the building. Embarrassed with his actions, he didn’t make eye contact with Spike, instead he studied Spike’s grip on the wheel, gauging his anger. "Where is she?" he asked quietly.


"Do you see her sitting here?"


"The guard at the front said she ran past him."


"Well, isn’t that what you wanted? To get her away from me?"


Angel actually looked ashamed of himself. "I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, I swear. I’m coming with you."


"You actually have lost your mind. I’ve been thinking that since you knocked on my door, but you really have gone round the bend."


"Let me in. Those demons are gunning for her tonight. We have to find her."


"YOU are not getting in the car with me. YOU caused this."


Angel drew a remote from his pocket and unlocked the door himself. Spike cursed fluently and without pausing for a good five minutes then gave up searching the streets nearest Wolfram and Hart and headed instead to the condo. Ten minutes passed and Spike rolled down the window, attempting to catch her smell again. Angel did the same, leaning into the wind. "Where could she be?" Angel said after another five minutes ticked past.


"You know so much about what she needs so why don’t you tell me!"


"Can you just drive? I don’t want her hurt."


"What do you think you did to her, you bloody lunatic?"


"Did you actually just call me a lunatic? Who calls anyone a lunatic?"


"Why did you do this? Seriously. Are you so bi-polar that you can’t decide from one second to the next what the hell you want?"


"Well, you’ll have to forgive me if I was a little stunned by the news that you are a rapist."


"Do I need to remind you how many maidenheads you plowed through in your day? How many girls you savaged? Do I actually have to mention Dru? She never forgot what you did to her."


"That was different."


"Of course it was, dickhead. I’m not killing you simply because I don’t have time right now."


"And because a part of you knows I’m right."


"You are not right. I made a huge mistake and I can’t take it back. But I love her."


"That’s what I keep hearing." Angel rubbed his forehead. "So what now? You ride off into the sunset together? Are you going to Italy with her?"


"I asked her to stay with me at Wolfram and Hart."


"What did she say?"


"She didn’t."


"I’ll apologize to her."


"For existing?"


"Did you see that?" Angel hit him on the arm, pointing toward a closed restaurant about a block from the condominium. "Stop the car."


Spike pulled into the drive and shut off the engine. They could hear the sounds of a scuffle and both broke into a run.


There she was, in all of her Slayer glory, clearly beating the absolute hell out of five very large demons. They watched in awe as she ran two of the demons through with a long pole and impaled them into the wood of the bathroom. Without missing a step, she turned on her heel and grabbed another demon, breaking its neck and shoving the body into an oncoming attacker, who struggled under the weight to get free. The remaining demon leaped onto her back and she threw it over her shoulder.


Spike growled when he saw the blood pool under her shirt where the demon had attempted to hang onto her by raking long talons up her back. He grabbed the metal garbage can that was chained to the building, yanking the chain free. As Buffy fought one of the two demons, Spike wrapped the chain around the neck of the one who had injured Buffy and pulled until the head popped off.


Buffy dispatched the final demon and spun on her heel, looking wild and full of resentment. "Don’t help me! I am the fucking Slayer and I can do this in my sleep! I don’t need you!"


Spike dropped the chain and put his hands up in surrender. "Fine."

"And what are you doing here?" She demanded of Angel, who was leaning back against the restaurant. "You want to mess up my life a little more? You want to make sure I’m completely screwed up instead of just a little? Oh, you want to get your licks in, too? Fine! Go ahead."


"I wanted to apologize."


"Well, good for you. Purge your conscience, by all means." Buffy absently wiped demon ooze from her arm and bent to pick up the chain that Spike had dropped. "But you’re doing it at your own risk."


Angel glanced at Spike who shrugged. "She doesn’t want me to help her. She can kill you on her own."


"I’m sorry." Angel said to Buffy. "I thought I was okay with you and Spike, but then when I found out it what happened -"


"It’s none of your business," she replied. "You had no right to charge in there and say anything."


"I agree," Spike interjected.


Buffy shot him a look. "Shouldn’t you be with Harmony? Isn’t she coming back tomorrow? Where did she go? To find a fucking unicorn bedspread for you to share?"


"He lied, Buffy!"


"I did lie," Angel agreed. "He was with her once and it was because he -"


"I don’t want the details!" Buffy yelled. "I have to go see if Dawn’s okay."


"They’re at Wolfram and Hart," Angel said.


"God! What? Your freakin’ cult is kidnapping people now?"


Angel explained about the demons.


Buffy threw the chain so hard that it embedded into the side of the restaurant.


Spike wondered if transporting her back to Wolfram and Hart in a small sports car was actually the best thing to do.