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.