A Little Tenderness by ya_lublyu_tebya

Chapter #1 - One

Chapter One ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Somehow – although she wasn’t entirely sure how – she managed to get Spike across town safely, back to her house. He had been unusually quiet, but she attributed it to the fact that he had been tortured for days and was too weak to talk. He clung to her tightly, most of his weight resting on her shoulders where his arm draped across her and she tightened her grip on his waistband, trying to hold him on his weary feet as best she could. Somehow they reached Revello Drive and she breathed a sigh of relief as she helped him up the front steps. She stepped away from him to open the door and was startled a moment later when his hand locked around her wrist in a tight grip. Her instinctive reaction was fear mingled with anger but as soon as she turned to face him, it disappeared as she took in the lost, desperate look on his face. He gripped her tighter, as if to reassure himself that she was really there, and as she remembered his almost fevered words in the cave, her expression softened into one of sympathy. The First had obviously been playing with his mind as well as abusing his body. She turned to face him fully, reaching out her free hand and pressing it to one of the small spaces of unharmed skin on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here and you’re okay now.” He gave her a shocked look out of his one good eye and she smiled softly, stroking her fingers gently over his skin and then drawing back. She wrapped her arm around him again and felt him lean into her, his head bowing, his body shaking with emotion once more. And it cut her to the quick. That he would think she would not come for him. The only words he had spoken through their long, painful journey across town had been a tortured cry of ‘you came for me’. And it broke her heart to think that he thought so little of himself. Thought so little of her. Getting him out of that cave had been at the forefront of her mind since he had been taken – it had become her obsession, all she could think about in the dark silence of her room. And yet he had been tortured and beaten and, somewhere along the line, had seemed to have lost faith in her. It hurt more than she could understand: that he didn’t believe she would come for him. They had had their bad times – and were still recovering from the last – but she was not so heartless as to leave him for the First to destroy. Yet he seemed to think so. Pushing the unsettling thoughts away, she tightened her grip on him and nudged the front door open with her shoulder, guiding them both through it – and into a crowd of people. Her friends and the Potentials gathered around them anxiously, making it hard to move or even to breathe. She felt Spike recoil from them, his eyes fixed on the floor and she laid a gentle hand on his arm, trying to calm him. “Are you okay?” “Did you see the First?” “Man, he looks bad.” “Is he really a vampire?” She couldn’t take the torrent of questions, voices, anymore and could feel Spike leaning on her even more so she shouted above the crowd. “Guys!” There was silence within seconds and she breathed a sigh of relief. She looked around the group and then focused her attention on her friends. “I’m fine, but Spike needs help. I’m going to need bandages and water and, I don’t know, anything you can find.” She was already moving again, trying her best not to aggravate any of his injuries as she manoeuvred Spike through the crowd of girls – all of them staring at him, some in wonder, some in fear. “Where are you taking him?” Xander asked and she had to grit her teeth when she heard the slight disapproval in her friend’s voice. “My room, so he can get some peace and quiet.” Her tone invited no argument and she was glad when none came, instead focussing her energy on moving Spike as the group went into action behind her. She finally got him into her bedroom and lowered him onto the bed, trying hard not to hurt him anymore as she guided him to lie down on the covers. Exhausted, his eyes fell shut and he just laid there, his body limp. She stepped back and really took him in for the first time, something causing a sharp twinge inside her when she looked at the intricate patterns traced in his pale skin. He had been cut to bleed and they had done a good job by the looks of it – the cuts weren’t too shallow, nor too deep and they had avoided most major arteries. Then there were the bruises, colouring his alabaster skin with shades of blue, purple, yellow. Whoever – whatever – had done this to him, it had been ruthless. She felt a lump in her throat and she swallowed it back nervously, forcing herself into motion. She knelt by the bed and untied the laces of his boots, slipping them from his feet and placing them down side by side at the end of the bed. “Buffy,” he got out in a whisper and she got to her feet, moving round to where he could see her. His one good eye opened a crack and he took her in with a look of such awe it caught her breath. “You came,” he choked out in disbelief. “I came,” she whispered back, moving hesitantly to sit on the edge of the bed. She laid a hand against his shoulder and after his instinctive flinch, he relaxed, letting out a long, shaky breath. “Shouldn’t have come… for me,” he murmured weakly, struggling to get the words out, “M’not… not worth it… M’a bad man… dangerous.” “No, you’re not,” she cut in firmly, “That was just the First playing with you. I trust you, Spike.” One blue eye fixed on hers and then he looked away, convulsing with emotion – a choked sob breaking past his lips. Uncomfortable, she jumped to her feet and began to pace, waiting for the supplies. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, not sure if she was trying to reassure herself or Spike, “It’s okay now.”

Chapter #2 - Two

Chapter Two ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Armed with a veritable mountain of supplies, she sat on the edge of the bed next to Spike, her worried gaze flying over his form. He had fallen asleep only a few minutes ago, the strain of the past few days catching up with him all of a sudden. In sleep, he was deathly still, somehow making his numerous injuries seem even worse. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she forced herself into motion, taking a damp cloth and placing it on his chest. He flinched in his sleep but, much to her relief, he did not wake and she continued as carefully as she could, her hand shaking ever so slightly. She worked blindly, something in her unwilling to take in the true extent of his wounds as she cleaned them. He would heal, she kept reassuring herself. He healed just as quickly as her, if not quicker, and he would be fine in a few days with rest and blood. At the thought, her gaze fell to the floor, to the bag of blood Willow had handed her with a solemn expression. Pig’s blood, of course. It would help him to heal – at least a little. She forced her gaze back to him and worked her way over his chest, doing her best to tend to his injuries. When finally his wounds were clean and bound to some extent, she turned her attention to his bruised ribs. She was pretty sure there were a few broken ones, but she hesitated, torn between not wanting to wake him and wanting to make sure he had the best chance of healing. Finally, the last impulse won out and she gently touched her hand to his shoulder. “Spike?” He murmured in his sleep and she smiled affectionately before calling his name again. “Hmm?” he got out, his eyes still closed. “I need to strap your ribs.” He groaned something that might have been acceptance and she shifted closer, a frown flitting across her face as she considered her predicament. With a sigh, she leant over him and wrapped her arms around him, trying hard to subdue her body’s instinctive reaction to his closeness – a sliver of fear replaced with a frisson of something else she pushed away quickly. She guided him into a sitting position slowly, cringing with every painful moan torn from his lips. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I don’t want to hurt you.” He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been a choked sob and she carefully held him up with one arm as she gently skimmed her fingers over his ribs. He groaned almost instantly and his head lolled forward, resting against her as she struggled to reach the bandages behind her. It was at this moment she wished she had accepted the offer of help from her sister and Willow, but something had held her back. That something being mainly a feeling that she did not want them to see him like this but also a feeling that this was her job to do. For Spike. For her. She unravelled the long roll of bandage and wrapped it as tightly as she dared around his middle, hating the painful low sounds coming from him with every movement. “I’m sorry,” she whispered helplessly, wanting to comfort him with her touch but settling for rubbing her cheek against his head almost unthinkingly as she busied herself with tying of the bandages, “I’m almost done.” He groaned something unintelligible in reply and she quickly finished her job, hoping to ease his pain as soon as possible. She took his shoulder with her free hand and slowly eased him backwards on to the pillows, slipping free when he sank into them. His one good eye slowly fluttered open and regarded her for a moment before it fell shut again tiredly. “Spike, I need you to tell me where else you’re hurt,” she said softly, reaching out and stroking the back of his hand. She thought he hadn’t heard her but a long moment later, he replied. “All over,” he choked out with a twisted smile, coughing painfully afterwards. “Nice and specific,” she joked, already scanning her gaze over him, trying to spot anywhere that needed special attention. “Your leg,” she commented, resting her hand on it, “You were limping on the way home.” “M’fine… really.” “Would you just suck it up and let me look after you?” she got out, her low tone softening the harshness of her words. He opened his eye once more and met her gaze with a soft one. She smiled weakly and then he nodded, closing his eye again and laying his head back on the pillow. “Good,” she said, returning her attention to his leg, “Now, your leg. Is it bad?” Some time later, she took a step back from the bed and brushed her hair from her face. She had done the best she could but Spike still looked like hell. She swept her gaze over the numerous bandages and other bindings decorating his skin and frowned, placing the remaining bandaging down on the side table. She looked at the bag of blood for a moment but dismissed the idea as she glanced at Spike: he was resting peacefully enough and she was loath to wake him. Instead she quietly packed up the supplies, her eyes darting to him every now and again, checking on him. Finally there was nothing left to do and she hovered over him awkwardly, not wanting to leave him but knowing that she needed to report back to her friends. She bit her lip as she considered and then finally, she went into motion. She went to her cupboard and after a bit of searching, pulled out a large woollen blanket. Moving back to the bed, she laid the blanket over the sleeping vampire and stepped back to look at him. With a tiny smile, she finally turned and headed for the door, glancing back at him once before she opened it and slipped outside onto the landing, closing the door silently behind her. She stopped there for a few long moments, gathering her wits and taking a moment to relax, her shoulders sagging as she rested her head against her door. Eventually, she shook herself and pushed herself away from the door, throwing a glance at it quickly and then making her way downstairs.

Chapter #3 - Three

Chapter Three ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She avoided her friends’ questions for all of about five minutes while she hurriedly ate a snack but as soon as she was done, they swarmed into the kitchen, eager to hear her update. “So, were there any more uber-vamps?” Xander asked. “No, it was fine. I got in and out with no trouble.” “And how is he?” Willow asked, seeming genuinely worried about Spike’s wellbeing. “It’s bad,” Buffy admitted with a grimace. “Like bad-fight-with-a-demon bad? Or Glory bad?” Xander quipped. “Worse,” she replied seriously, running a hand through her hair, “Really of the worse.” “But he’ll heal,” Dawn remarked, “Won’t he?” “Of course he will. In a few days maybe.” There was a silence and she sighed, wiping her tired eyes. “You need to rest.” She jumped at Xander’s voice and sat up quickly. “I’m fine.” “You look beat.” “I’ll rest later,” she said, adding “Promise” when he seemed uncertain. Apparently pleased with her report, Willow and Xander disappeared, leaving the two sisters alone in a drawn-out silence. “He is going to be okay, isn’t he?” Dawn asked, turning to Buffy, eyes searching hers. “If I’ve got anything to do with it, he will be.” “Good,” Dawn remarked, getting to her feet, “I don’t have to feel sorry for him. I can go back to hating him.” Silenced by her sister’s harsh words, it took Buffy a moment to recover and to grab her sister’s arm before she could leave the kitchen. “Dawn.” “Don’t try and change my mind.” She almost wanted to smile as Dawn squared up to her, crossing her arms across her chest and giving her a bucketload of teenage attitude. Instead, she took Dawn’s arm and guided her back onto the stool. “Why do you want to hate him so badly?” she asked quietly, holding her sister’s arm tighter when she tried to pull away. “Well, I’m sorry if I don’t just forget that he tried to rape you.” She sighed and released her sister, running her hand through her hair. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to her sister, pleading with her silently to listen. “Dawn, I don’t know what Xander told you about what happened… but even Xander doesn’t know what happened that night.” “So Spike didn’t try to rape you?” Dawn asked pointedly, crossing her arms once more. There was no way she could deny it and she hesitated, trying to find some way to explain to her sister. She knew exactly how Dawn felt – had felt the sting of betrayal even deeper – but she could not put into words the hundreds of explanations and nuances and justifications she had spent months churning around in her mind. No-one would ever understand what had happened that night in the bathroom except her and Spike. “Look, Dawnie, just… please go easy on Spike.” “Why should I? You’re crazy!” She sighed and forced herself to take another calming breath before facing her sister again. “Dawn, it’s complicated.” “Isn’t it always?” Dawn asked, not softening in the slightest. “Okay, Dawnie, listen. Spike and me… we messed each other up. But it’s different now. He has a soul.” “I don’t see-“ “Dawnie, please. He’s trying to be different and I want to give him a chance.” “You do love him.” She sighed and rolled her eyes impatiently before turning her attention back to her sister. “Please just go easy on him. For me.” Dawn grumbled something that sounded vaguely like agreement and then turned and flounced off, leaving a very tired Buffy alone in the kitchen. She sank her head in her hands and let her shoulders sag, the energy that had been propelling her through this day failing. She could hear the sounds of girls’ voices in the background as she stared at the worktop and she sighed, wondering how much longer she could take this. She was desperately in need of a good night’s sleep but the injured vampire in her bed put paid to any thought of that. She would have to watch him through the night anyway, make sure that he was doing okay. She sure wasn’t made for nursing, but the thought of passing this duty over to anyone else made her uneasy. It wasn’t just the idea that the First might make him dangerous again either. Nor was it the fact that no-one felt quite comfortable around Spike, although that helped. If she could explain the feeling, she would describe it as a type of possessiveness. Spike was hers: her responsibility and hers to look after. It was somewhat unsettling and spurred her out of her stool and towards the stairs, her sore muscles aching for a hot shower. Twenty minutes later, she dragged herself out of the shower, hardly feeling the better for it. She wrapped her robe around herself and tied her wet hair into a sloppy ponytail and left the bathroom, marvelling at the quiet that had descended over the house. She could hear the faint sounds of voices downstairs but it was quieter than ever and she drank it in with relish. Tiptoeing to her room, she pushed open the door and slipped inside, her gaze flicking to the sleeping vampire and away again when she had ascertained that he was still sleeping soundly. She crept over to her drawers and quickly found some loose trousers and a vest top, glancing over her shoulder at Spike as she closed the drawer. He hadn’t moved or made a sound and she smiled softly, clutching her clothes in her hand. She glanced at him again and after a moment’s hesitation, she slipped her trousers on under her robe. She quickly looked at him again just before she swiftly slipped her robe off and replaced it with her top and smiled at herself as she did; after all, it wasn’t as if Spike would see anything he hadn’t seen a million times before. Shaking her head as memories threatened to crowd in on her, she laid her robe on a chair and moved over to the bed, watching over the sleeping vampire with a tiny smile. She perched on the edge of the bed and swept her eyes over his battered form before returning her gaze to his swollen eye and his bruised lip. Frowning, she reached out and brushed her fingers gently over the edge of the bruise around his eye. When his hand flew out and grabbed her arm, she jumped and froze as he started up, his eye flying open. After a few long seconds, he relaxed but did not release her hand as he sank back against the pillows. “Buffy?” he got out, as if he wasn’t quite sure it was her, even as his grip tightened on her wrist. “I was just, erm, checking on you,” she said quietly. “You…” he trailed off, his gaze flicking around the room and back to her once more, “Thought it was a dream.” She paused for a moment, processing his words, and then she frowned. “You thought me coming for you was just a dream?” she asked, seeking confirmation, “You thought you were still there?” “Yeah,” he choked out weakly, sinking further into the pillows, his hand releasing her. “Well, it wasn’t,” she remarked firmly, “You’re here and you’re not going anywhere.” He was silent, his eyes closed, and she thought maybe he had fallen asleep again, but he finally spoke up after a pause. “Why?” he whispered, opening his eye and finding her again. “I did what I had to do,” she replied softly, forcing herself to hold his gaze. He nodded and fell silent again, his raspy breathing the only sound in the room for a long few minutes. “I should go. Let you get some sleep,” she commented, breaking the silence decisively, already halfway on her feet. “Stay.” His hand reached out and caught her again and she paused for a split second before sinking back on to the bed. “Okay.” He sank back against the pillows once more, his fingers just resting against her wrist as his eye fluttered shut sleepily. He lasted a few more minutes before exhaustion caught up with him again and he fell into a fitful sleep as she watched over him in silence.

Chapter #4 - Four

Chapter Four ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She woke with a jolt and let out a moan as the muscles in her neck protested at the movement. She brought her hand to her neck and slowly righted herself, taking in her situation: it seemed she had fallen asleep at some point, still perched on the bed beside Spike. He was still sleeping despite the light streaming into the room and she gave a little sigh of relief that she had remembered to draw the curtains last night. She yawned and stretched and pushed herself off the bed sleepily, her muscles aching with every move. “Buffy.” She jumped at Spike’s low voice and turned to him quickly, brushing her messy hair out of her face. “Hi. Morning. How are you feeling?” Judging by the way he struggled to sit up, she was going to go with not well. “M’okay,” he got out, giving her a weak smile – and flinching in pain an instant later. “Liar,” she murmured softly. He sank back against the pillows in defeat and she hovered awkwardly, unsure what to do or say. “I’ll, erm, I’ll change your bandages a bit later, if that’s okay.” He nodded weakly and she bit her lip, looking around the room as if for inspiration. “Buffy.” Spike’s hesitant voice drew her attention quickly back to him and she watched as he went to speak, changed his mind, changed his mind again – and finally spoke. “I need… need blood.” His words jolted her into motion and she jerked forward. “God, I’m sorry! Of course you do! I’ll get right on it.” She rushed to the side table and retrieved the bag of blood from it. “I’ll just go warm this up for you.” She hurried to the door but paused midway as Spike spoke up. “Thank you.” She turned back to him and met his tired gaze, her expression softening. “You don’t have to thank me,” she murmured, “I did what I had to do. I… we needed you back.” Finishing awkwardly, she fell silent, her gaze falling to the bag in her hand. She stared at it for a long moment before she raised her gaze to Spike. He tilted his head, regarding her with curiosity as she moved back to the table and placed the bag down on it once more. She sat on the edge of the bed and fiddled with her trousers nervously for a moment before she managed to pluck up the courage to meet his confused gaze. “You need to feed.” “Yeah,” he answered quietly, searching her gaze as if this was a trick. She nodded to herself and hesitated for a minute. “Buffy?” She snapped her head up and met Spike’s worried gaze before nodding once, swallowing hard, and holding her wrist out. He regarded her outstretched hand for a long, silent moment and then raised confused eyes to hers. “Buffy… what?” “Feed,” she whispered, unable to say anymore for fear that her shaking voice would give away her uncertainty. “Buffy.” “I need you better,” she got out, unable to meet his eyes, “This is the quickest way.” His fingers grazed her wrist and she tried not to pull away as he wrapped his hand around her wrist. He held her still for a pause and then gently pushed her away, guiding her hand to her own lap and drawing her wide gaze to his. “I don’t need your blood,” Spike said quietly, the emotion in his voice revealing just how much the action meant to him. “But I want to give it to you.” “I don’t want to take it,” he replied, continuing quickly before she could interrupt, “I can’t risk it.” She had completely forgotten about the withdrawal symptoms he had been suffering so recently after his First-induced killing spree and she frowned, her shoulders sagging. “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought,” Spike added. She gave him a weak smile and pushed herself to her feet, snatching up the bag of blood. “I’ll go get this ready,” she got out hurriedly, making her way out of the room before Spike had a chance to reply. She was glad for the quiet throughout the house as she crept down the stairs to the kitchen and it was only when she spotted the clock on the microwave that she realised it was barely seven. She smiled weakly and placed the blood in the microwave, pressing ‘start’ and turning to lean against the counter. Her mind was racing, her gaze fixed blindly on the floor in front of her. She had shocked herself with her own offer and now she was embarrassed on top of that, dreading returning to the room. She had offered Spike her own blood – and he had turned her down. She had never imagined this day ever coming, never imagined herself offering such a huge thing to him – especially after everything they had been through. The sight of his injuries in the light of day had cut her deep though and all she had been able to think of was finding a way to get him better, and soon. It was only now, away from him, in the silence of the kitchen, that she realised the idiocy of her offer. After everything Spike had suffered lately, human blood was the last thing he needed. And especially Slayer blood. It was only a matter of days since he had been shaking with the pain of withdrawal, looking drawn and weak. She had been stupid to forget. Her desire to see him better seemed to have stripped her of her reason and she frowned. She was torn from her thoughts as the microwave beeped loudly behind her, causing her to jump. She turned quickly and removed the bag, pausing for a moment before squaring her shoulders and heading out of the kitchen. She had to take another strengthening pause just before she entered her room but then she could enter with a calm smile. “Yummy pig’s blood,” she joked, moving to his side and holding the bag out to him. He pushed himself up ever so slightly and reached out for the bag, his fingers just brushing hers. “Thanks.” He brought the bag to his mouth and she looked away awkwardly, moving away to distract herself. She was mindlessly sorting the toiletries on her dressing table when Spike spoke up. “What would you have done if I said ‘yes’?” he asked and she straightened, staring at the spot in the mirror where she knew him to be, even if she could not see him. “I would have done it,” she whispered, her hands fiddling nervously with her hairbrush. “Really?” She forced herself to turn to him and meet his weak gaze. “Yes.” “Why?” he asked, the blood seeming already to have made him better – or at least made him chatty. “I told you,” she murmured, “I need you better.” “You need me to fight.” She paused for a brief second before replying: “Yes.” She could not meet his eyes for fear he would read in them all the things she could have said instead and she looked to the floor. “Well, it means a lot.” She hesitantly raised her eyes to his and gave him a tiny smile, holding his gaze for a long minute. The silence stretched on until finally she shook herself from her daze and drew her gaze from his. “I should check your bandages.” He said nothing but she could feel his gaze burning into her as she perched on the bed beside him and began to check his many bindings, avoiding his gaze.

Chapter #5 - Five

Chapter Five Author's note: Sorry for the delay! Real life got a bit hectic. I'm hoping to have a few updates this week to make up for it. A big thanks to all those reviewing and to everyone reading. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She hardly left her room for the rest of the morning, worriedly watching over Spike and wishing for his speedy recovery. He slept often but fitfully, waking several times with a cry and startling her. He would then lie there with his eyes closed, not talking but not sleeping either. It was in these moments when she wished she could reach out for him, when she found herself worrying about him the most. The silence made her edgy and finally, it came to a point where she could bear it no longer. “Spike, talk to me,” she whispered desperately, watching him with pained eyes as he slowly opened his eyes and turned his head towards her. He smiled weakly and then his expression filled with pain and he dropped his gaze from hers. Some impulse pushed her to her feet and she moved to his side, perching on the bed. He watched her with wide eyes but did not move as she settled beside him. “What should I say?” he murmured softly, eyes fluttering closed. “Anything,” she replied, unable to stop herself from reaching out and resting her hand on his shoulder. He jumped at her touch but soon relaxed, letting out a long deep breath and closing his eyes. “M’scared,” he got out, so quietly she almost missed it. “Scared of what?” He took a deep breath and opened his eyes once more, avoiding her gaze and staring at the ceiling instead. “Scared that this isn’t real.” She paused for a moment and then she moved her hand from his shoulder, tracing it down his arm and twining her fingers in his. “Does this feel real?” He swallowed hard and turned to look at her, blue eyes swimming with emotion. “Yes.” She tugged on his hand and brought it to her face, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek. “And this?” He closed his eyes and nodded, his fingers brushing her skin. “I’m here. I’m real. You don’t need to be scared.” He let out a choked laugh and opened his eyes again, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. “God, I sound like a ponce.” She smiled sadly and tightened her fingers around his, moving her cheek against his hand. “You’ve been through a lot,” she whispered. He turned those bright eyes on her again, holding her gaze for a long moment before he spoke. “So’ve you.” “I’m not the one who got used as a plaything for the First’s baddies.” “I’ll heal.” She smiled weakly and reluctantly drew his hand away from her cheek. “I know. I’ll make sure of it.” He was silent for a long time after that and once again she thought he had fallen asleep, but he spoke up soon after. “Why are you doing this?” He turned to face her, eyes searching hers as if for his answer. “I need my best fighter back.” “But why… why you, Buffy? You could have anyone look after me. Could even leave me in the basement to heal… not here.” He looked around her room, seemingly taking in every little detail. “I wouldn’t do that,” she said quietly, drawing his attention back to her. He studied her in silence for a long moment and then spoke again. “Why not? Why the special attention, Buffy?” Growing uncomfortable with his delving, she quickly got to her feet, turning her back on him. “I just want you better, Spike,” she answered, “I should get you some more blood.” She was already at the door but his reply stopped her in her tracks. “Why are you so afraid of your feelings?” “I’m not-“ “You can’t bear feeling anything remotely… soft… for me.” “That’s not true.” “That right?” he challenged, prompting a sigh from her. She turned to him, leaning against the door and daring to meet his piercing gaze. “I’m worried about you,” she started hesitantly, “I can’t… I can’t bear seeing you like this. I… I care about you, you know that.” He said nothing but held her gaze until she grew uncomfortable and had to look away. “I need you back, Spike.” Before he could say anything, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I need you watching my back again. I need to know I’ve got you at my side.” “Getting all sentimental on me, Slayer,” he murmured quietly, regarding her with tenderness. She crossed her arms across her chest and looked to the floor, her emotions welling up even as she tried to suppress them. “I missed you,” she got out, her eyes still fixed on the floor. “Was only a few days,” Spike joked weakly, “Sure you had your hands full with the Slayerettes-“ “I don’t mean these last few days.” She jerked her head up and met his gaze, her gaze teary as she dared to share her secret with him. “I mean… this summer. I missed you when you were gone.” “Buffy-“ “I tried not to. I tried to… I wanted to hate you, after…” she trailed off, her emotions catching up with her, “But I couldn’t. And all I could think was that if I’d really listened to what you were trying to tell me that night-“ “Buffy,” he called, his voice almost a growl, drawing her teary gaze to his, “Don’t.” “It wasn’t your fault, Spike. I know that now.” “No,” he bit out, shifting with a wince into a sitting position, “Don’ make excuses for me.” “I’m not. I’m just…” She took a deep breath and forced her leaden feet forward, moving over to the bed and sinking onto it, her eyes never leaving his. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “What?! Buffy?” “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I’m sorry that I-” “No,” Spike interrupted, grabbing her wrist and regarding her angrily before softening, “You haven’t got anything to be sorry for.” “Spike-“ “No, Buffy,” he said, his firm tone surprising in his current state of weakness. At a stalemate, she fell silent, watching him with sad eyes, her fingers curling around his. His eyes fluttered shut but his grip tightened on her hand, letting her know he was still awake. “I wanted to kill you.” He had spoken so quietly that she almost missed it, but as soon as she processed his words, her eyes went wide with surprise. As if sensing it, he opened his eyes and looked at her again, his eyes swimming with pain. “When I left, I was determined to find a way to get the chip out. I was… I was fed up of being stuck between two worlds. Can’t be a man, can’t be a vampire,” he murmured, repeating the hateful words she had once flung at him. “Spike-“ “I wanted to kill you more than ever,” he whispered harshly, his eyes locking with hers. A long silence descended over them, until finally she broke it. “And then?” she whispered shakily. “And then I ended up with a soul.” Her heart lurched with something like disappointment as she realised his soul had been a mistake, an unhappy accident in his pursuit of something else. She went to pull away from him, but he caught her arm, stopping her. “Understand though, Buffy. I thought I wanted to kill you.” “I got that message,” she replied, trying hard to keep herself calm. “I didn’t though. Not really. At least not deep down, where it mattered… where that demon looked to see what I really wanted.” She reluctantly slid her gaze back to him, searching his eyes for the truth. “I was hurting so badly, Buffy. So I got angry… but deep down, I was still hurting. I still wanted to make it better… to make it so you…” He trailed off and she swallowed back the lump in her throat, tears threatening to spill over as she looked at him. “You should have just stayed,” she whispered after a long pause, her voice thick with emotion. His eyes went wide with surprise and when he tightened his fingers around hers, she squeezed back gently. His eyes fell shut again weakly, but as he drifted into another fitful doze, his fingers stayed locked around hers.

Chapter #6 - Six

Chapter Six A/N: Yay, look at me with two posts on two consecutive days. Just like old times! :-) Just when I was wondering where you had all gone to, you turned up, so thank you to everyone out there reading. I was worried I'd been abandoned. :-s Now, enough melodrama... on with the story... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In the afternoon, as Spike slept once more, she finally joined the group downstairs. She found Xander and Willow in the kitchen, apparently enjoying some time away from the girls, who she soon found out had ventured out to the town’s mall with Dawn as their guide. She greeted her friends with a wide smile and slid onto a stool, rolling her aching shoulders. “Hey guys! What’s up?” “Not much,” Xander replied, watching her with worried eyes, “What about you?” “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” “Did you get any sleep last night?” Willow asked with a concerned frown. “Minimal,” she replied with a grimace, “And upright, when I did. Now my neck is killing me.” She almost missed the look her two friends shared but just caught it and she frowned, looking between them. “What?” They turned back to her guiltily and there was a pause before Xander dared to speak up. “Maybe you should reclaim your bed, Buff,” Xander commented hesitantly. She frowned at her friend’s words and looked to Willow, to see if she agreed. When Willow avoided her gaze, she took that as affirmation of Xander’s words. “I will,” she replied firmly, “As soon as Spike’s better.” A silence passed over them for several long moments before Willow spoke up. “It’s just, you know, maybe it isn’t safe.” “Safe?!” she echoed, looking between her two oldest friends with something like bewilderment. “Buff, come on,” Xander said quietly, “The First could trigger Spike at any time and then… Bam! You’ve got a massacre on your hands!” “What exactly are you trying to say?” she got out, crossing her arms over her chest. “We just… we think it’d be safer if Spike was back in the basement,” Willow commented quietly, glancing at Xander, “If he was tied up again.” She let that sink in for a moment before she replied in amazement. “Were you not looking when I brought him in?!” she exclaimed, “He’s battered! He could hardly hold himself up on his own feet! And you think he’s going to be starting a massacre?!” “Buff, we just-“ “You know, this discussion isn’t happening,” she interrupted, cutting off Xander’s attempt at placating her, “Spike’s staying in my room until he’s one hundred percent better.” Her friends were silent and she stared them down, before softening. “Look, I just… he’s bad, guys. I need to get him back to full strength.” Xander mumbled something in reply that she couldn’t quite make out and she turned to him, outwardly confident and firm but inwardly slightly nervous. “Sorry?” Xander raised his eyes to hers and jutted his chin out just a tiny bit. “I said, you’re getting too close.” She paused for a second to calm her temper and then met her friend’s gaze. “Are you volunteering to look after him?” she asked Xander pointedly. She stared him down until he looked away ashamedly and she lifted her chin triumphantly. “That’s what I thought. But if you think I’m just going to leave him to get through this alone, you really don’t know me very well.” “We know you want to help him, Buffy,” Willow spoke up softly, “We’re just worried you’re… you’re too invested in him.” “What do you think? That because I’m helping him get better, I’m suddenly going to start sleeping with him again?!” she asked angrily, folding her arms tighter over her chest. “We didn’t-“ “No, we-“ “I can’t believe you guys! You’re supposed to be my friends… you’re supposed to know me better than anyone.” She somehow managed to clamp down on her anger and turned her back on her friends, taking long deep breaths to calm herself. “We just don’t want you to get hurt,” Xander commented quietly, “Again.” She took a shaky breath and turned to her friends, her expression a mask of calm confidence. “In the end, though, it’s my choice if I decide to take the plunge again, isn’t it?” Her friends’ eyes went wide with surprise but before they could say anything, she turned her back on them and left the room. She darted up the stairs before her bravado could disappear and slipped into her room, shutting the door behind her and sinking her head against it. She took several long shaky breaths and blew the hair from her face, her hands pressed against the door in tight fists. “Buffy?” Spike’s low voice startled her and she jolted upright, quickly turning around to face him. Flustered and angry, she hadn’t even noticed he was wide awake and propped up on the cushions, now watching her with a gentle expression. “Everythin’ alright?” She pushed herself upright and brushed herself down. “I’m fine,” she got out, her tone still belying her anger, “How are you feeling?” “Sore,” he remarked with a grimace, shifting to make himself more comfortable, “But I’ll be fine.” He paused and she could feel his eyes on her, sizing her up, delving straight to the root of her stress. “Problems with the Scoobies?” Her eyes darted to his in surprise at his perceptiveness and he shrugged nonchalantly – the movement only spoiled by the wince of pain he couldn’t suppress. “You get a certain look about you when you’re mad at them,” he explained with an almost fond smile, “’Course, it’s a look I know quite well.” She gave him a weak smile and slipped into the chair by the bed, her shoulders drooping. She sank back and closed her eyes tiredly, one hand resting over her eyes. Silence reigned for several minutes and she drank it in, enjoying the comfortable atmosphere between them. “Wanna talk about it?” Spike asked after another few minutes of silence. She hesitated, considering it for a moment, and then sat up, meeting his questioning gaze. She tucked her leg under her and took a deep breath, before speaking up. “They think you’re dangerous,” she explained, her tone turning cold despite her best attempts to stay calm. “I’ve always been dangerous,” he replied with a smile and she smiled helplessly in return, rolling her eyes. She sighed and rested her head on her bent arm. “So what did they recommend?” Spike continued, “Wanna put me down like a bad dog or what?” “They want you in the basement again. Tied up.” He was silent and she watched him, trying to read the expressions flitting across his face but failing. “You know, Buffy, if you think it’s best-“ “Don’t even go there.” His head snapped towards her and he regarded her for a long moment in silence, his bright gaze searching hers. “Well alright then,” he commented finally, smiling ever so slightly. “Thank God,” she joked weakly, “I haven’t got the energy to fight with you as well.” He was watching her again with those keen eyes, making her almost uncomfortable. “You should get some rest,” he said softly, “You look tired.” “I’m fine,” she reassured him with a smile. “I don’t want you running yourself down trying to make me better,” he replied seriously. “I’m fine, Spike. Really.” He didn’t look convinced and she sighed, brushing her hair from her face. “I’ll rest later, okay?” He narrowed his eyes at her, making her feel strangely like a scolded child. “Spike, please, I’m too tired to do this.” His triumphant look told her that her protest had worked in his favour rather than hers and she let out a sigh. “Come on.” She looked up at Spike’s words and frowned as he started to wriggle in the bed, struggling to pull himself towards the edge. “What are you doing?” she got out, getting to her feet. “You need some sleep. I’m giving you your bed back,” he explained, glancing back at her. “Spike, don’t be stupid,” she protested, moving around the bed to face him, “You need to rest more than I do.” “I’ve been resting for most of the day… and night.” “You’re hurt,” she protested weakly, frowning when he persisted, pushing himself to his feet. He wavered and she caught him just as his hand dashed out and grabbed her shoulder. Seconds later, he righted himself, smiling softly down at her. “See? Shaky, but fine.” She frowned and guided him back on to the bed, not missing the sharp breath he let out as he sat back down again. She straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes flicking to the bed and then back to his. “I’ll lie down,” she finally conceded, “Just for a bit.” He smiled gently and she circled the bed, regarding it and him for a few moments before sliding onto the edge. Having managed to prop himself up on the pillows once more, Spike watched her with an almost hesitant expression as she paused, biting her lip as she threw a glance at him. Finally, decisively, she lay down and rested her head on the pillows, her eyes trained on his belt. “I’ll just rest for a few minutes,” she whispered sleepily, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Okay, love.” She nodded firmly and smiled triumphantly, even as her eyes slowly slid closed.

Chapter #7 - Seven

Chapter Seven A/N: It is entirely possible that this is the soppiest story I have ever written.... I love it! :-) Thanks again to everyone reading. Hope you're enjoying the fluff because there's loads more to come. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She woke with a start, jolted out of her dream and into the real world once more. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings and then she realised with a start that it was already getting dark. She let out a sleepy yawn and turned onto her back, startled as she almost collided with the figure next to her. When her heart had returned to its steady beat, she smiled softly as she took in Spike’s sleeping form: he was curled up with his head on one arm, his hair dishevelled and making him look astonishingly boyish. The best part though was that the bruises on his face had almost entirely healed now and the colour – what little of it he had – was returning to his face. She could tell by the way he was supporting himself that the rest of his injuries – and especially his ribs – needed some more time to heal, but she was glad to see progress. The truth was, she needed him back. And not just because he was the only person in the house as strong as her. She had been telling the truth when she had admitted to missing him over the summer – in fact, if anything, she had played down just how much she had missed him. Yes, at first all she had been able to feel was searing anger, but as the weeks passed and grew into months and he still did not return, the ache inside her grew. She couldn’t count the number of times over that long, long summer when she had wished to see him, even just once more. She had tortured herself, imagining him dead, imagining him back with Drusilla, with another woman even and at the same time, had tried to convince herself that she was over him, that it didn’t matter where he was. She’d lied to herself and to her friends, because it had mattered. She had come to realise how much he meant to her far too late – and had astonished herself by realising it wasn’t just for the cold comfort he had given her. She missed the early days of her new life, when their friendship had been the one thing keeping her sane; she missed simply being able to talk to him. She had also missed fighting at his side, knowing that her back was being watched. She had missed a hundred tiny things that had seemed so meaningless before but had somehow burst into life when she heard that he was gone. And now he was back. He was back, and even now she struggled to show him how much she had changed, how much her feelings for him had changed. Months of reflection, it seemed, had done nothing to improve her ability to open up. Spike shifted in his sleep next to her, drawing her out of her musing and back to the present. She found herself watching him, unable to look away, drinking in every line of his face. Laying this close to him, taking in his features, she couldn’t deny the overwhelming attraction she still felt for him after all these months without intimacy. But then, attraction had never been their problem: it had sizzled beneath the surface for so long now that it seemed commonplace. She sighed and sank into the pillow, closing her eyes tiredly: thinking about her relationship with Spike was far too headache-inducing right now. She was more than happy to go with the flow and see where it took them. Right now, her priority was just getting him back on his feet. She glanced over at him as he shifted in his sleep and winced as he let out a low moan. The pain jolted him awake and he came to, eyes flicking open and meeting hers, widening in surprise. “Hey,” she whispered, desperate to break the tense silence that threatened to fall over them. “Hey,” he replied, his voice husky with sleep. “Are you in pain?” she asked, remembering how he had awakened. “S’fine.” She glared at him and pushed herself up, sliding off the bed to retrieve the first aid kit where it rested on her dressing table. “I need to redo your bandages.” She came back and sat beside him, waiting as he pushed himself upright and fiddling with the bandages nervously. When he struggled to remove his T-shirt, she placed the roll of bandages down and rushed to help him, guiding it over his head gently. Decidedly ignoring their close proximity, she set to work unwinding the bandages from around his ribs, her touches light and quick as she checked his ribs. He couldn’t hide his flinch and she raised her eyes to his worriedly. “S’fine, really,” he soothed, his hand grazing her arm, “Healing.” She nodded and swiftly replaced the bandages, tying the end off and sitting back to admire her handiwork. “You’re probably hungry,” she remarked after a pause, her gaze meeting his once more. “Little bit.” “I’ll warm you up some blood,” she said, already getting to her feet, “Do you want anything else?” “Got any Weetabix?” he asked with a weak smile and she laughed. “I’ll have a look.” She turned to the door, but his words stopped her before she could leave the room. “Thank you for this, Buffy.” She turned back to him with a slight frown. “You don’t need to thank me, Spike.” “I know this is hassle for you and all, and you probably want to be out there patrolling, not looking after me-” “Spike, shut up,” she got out affectionately, surprising him, “I’m looking after you, whether you like it or not. Got it?” He smiled softly, watching her with warmth, and then nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” “Wow, that’s the easiest I’ve ever known you to give in. You must be really ill,” she teased and he gave her a low growl. “Watch it, Slayer,” he warned, “I might not be in top form, but I could still give you what for.” “I bet you could,” she answered in a husky voice, surprising herself – and him apparently – with her flirtatious tone. “You know it,” he answered in a low tone, eyes turned dark as they regarded her. She swallowed hard and shook herself. “I should – I’m just going to-“ She gestured to the door and made a quick escape, leaning against it for a moment as her astonishment subsided. Finally, she smiled to herself and pushed away from the door, jogging down the steps and into the kitchen.

Chapter #8 - Eight

Chapter Eight I know! Two chapters in one day. Look at me go. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After her extended nap earlier in the day, she was still wide awake as the night progressed and although her instinct was to go on the hunt, she stayed home. To be more precise, she stayed with Spike. The blood and the rest were working their magic on him and he was improving hour by hour now. Even the large bruise around his eye had faded to a slight shadow now, and she was relieved to see it. To think it was only yesterday she had practically dragged him across town. Now, he was sitting up on her bed, relaxed and looking more like himself as he tucked his arms behind his head. She sat on the bed at a slight distance, her legs crossed, a smile on her face as she laid down her hand of cards. “Ha, a royal flush!” With a raised eyebrow, Spike conceded defeat, throwing his cards down on the bed. “I should never have taught you poker.” She smiled widely and gathered the cards up, shuffling them expertly. “What do I win?” she asked with a grin. “What do you want?” His simple question sparked tension between them and she held his gaze for a long, silent moment before forcing herself to look away. “I’ll think of something,” she commented lightly, focussing her gaze on her hands. Spike said nothing in answer and she went about dealing another hand, giving a tiny little smile at just how shyly they were both acting around each other. It was idiocy but she couldn’t seem to stop it – nor could she prevent the numerous blushes he had already provoked by the simplest of comments. It was driving her crazy – but there was no way she was going to talk about it. Not with Spike. Oh no. After several hands played out in silence, their game tapered off naturally and she sat staring out of the window, helplessly searching for something to say. When Spike cleared his throat, she turned to him expectantly and he smiled shyly, before speaking up. “I could do with some fresh air.” “Good idea!” she chimed in, diving to her feet. Spike’s progress to his feet was much slower and several times, she went to help him, but held herself back – sensing that he didn’t want his weakness played up. When he took his first shaky step though, she couldn’t help stepping forward as he wavered and he smiled wryly, draping his arm around her shoulders. “You tell anyone I needed your help and I rip your throat out,” he warned weakly, drawing a smile from her as she wrapped her arm around his waist. “You’re hurt, Spike,” she whispered, “You’re allowed to ask for help, you know.” He met her gaze in silence and she looked away awkwardly, that bright gaze unnerving her. She felt his hand just graze her hair but then he held on tight to her shoulder, shifting forward hesitantly. They made their way through the quiet house and out on to the back porch, where she helped him to sit on the step. She sat down beside him and they stared out at the garden in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. “We’ve spent a lot of time here,” Spike spoke up, something almost wistful about his tone. “We have,” she agreed, glancing at him before looking back out across the garden. She thought of the time he had joined her here after she had heard about her mother’s illness and she turned to him curiously. “Do you remember when you came to me here? When I was upset because of my mom?” “I remember,” he murmured quietly, turning to meet her gaze. “Why did you come? I never knew… I was a complete bitch to you. I…” she trailed off, remembering how she had pushed him to the ground, how she had thrown money at him as if he was a thing, a monster with no feelings. “I came to kill you,” he answered after a pause, drawing her surprised gaze to his, “Got myself a shotgun and everything. Convinced myself I was going to put an end to it, once and for all.” “What happened?” she whispered. “Found you out here… looking lost.” He tilted his head, regarding her tenderly. “I think that was when I truly fell in love with you,” he continued softly. She shifted uncomfortably but could not draw her eyes from his, amazed as always at the depth of emotion she found there. She finally dragged her eyes from his and fixed her gaze on the garden once more, both of them letting out a simultaneous breath. “Heard another girl’s coming tomorrow?” Spike spoke up after a while, breaking the silence. “Yeah, they’re pouring in now. Giles is out gathering them… and probably scaring the hell out of the poor girls.” He laughed and she flashed him a smile, before turning serious. “This is going to be big,” she whispered. “From beneath you it devours.” She shivered involuntarily at the words and she felt his hand brush her arm. She glanced at him and forced a weak smile. “Just another apocalypse to add to the list, huh?” “Sure,” he agreed, pulling his hand back and linking his hands together. “I’ll try not to die this time.” Her quip didn’t quite amuse him as planned and the look of pain he flashed her quickly silenced her. “Anyway, I’ve got a bunch of inexperienced girls to worry about before I even think about worrying about me,” she got out quickly, hoping to cover up the tension her insensitivity had caused. “They’ll need more training,” Spike commented. “I know,” she sighed, turning to him brightly a few seconds later as a thought occurred to her, “Oh, we could train them.” “You think that’s going to be allowed?” Spike asked incredulously, “I’m dangerous, remember?” She rolled her eyes and smiled at him softly before replying. “You’re not dangerous.” “Hey!” She gave him a pointed look and his outrage softened into affection. “Thanks.” She turned towards him and examined him in silence for a long pause before she replied. “I trust you, Spike. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” He was silent for a moment, but she could tell by his expression what her words meant to him. She smiled gently and reached out to take his hand, squeezing it in hers. “S’good to know,” he finally choked out, returning her squeeze, his eyes dropping to focus on their joined hands. Pretending that it was no big deal, she turned back to the garden, keeping her hand in his, silently enjoying the feel of his cool fingers wrapped around hers.

Chapter #9 - Nine

Chapter Nine A/N: A certain scene in 'Potential' has been thoroughly pilfered in the creation of this chapter! :-) Also, I know, I'm back again! I'm on a roll... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Spike had suggested, there were those who were not at all pleased with the idea of him helping Buffy to train the growing number of girls, but Buffy refused to back down and a couple of days later – once she was satisfied that Spike had healed enough – he joined them on a patrol. He walked along with her at first and she could see that several of the girls were more than wary of him, hanging back at a safe distance. There was no time for that though: they had a lot scarier vampires to worry about. She smiled to herself when she imagined what Spike’s reaction to that comment would be but stifled her smile as he turned to her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for instruction. She drew to a stop and turned to the group of girls. “Okay, time for some real-life experience.” She paused, looking over the selection of girls and finally settling on two. “Rona, Vi, you’re up.” The two shared a worried look and stepped towards her hesitantly, not sure what they had just been volunteered for. “Right,” she started, smiling ever so slightly, “Here.” She held out two stakes and the two girls shared an uncertain look before taking them from her nervously. “Now run.” Another bewildered look was cast in her direction and she smiled before continuing. “Run away,” she continued, looking them both in the eye, one after another, “Now… Because Spike’s coming after you in thirty seconds.” The girls flew a scared look at the vampire, who grinned, and then after sharing another bewildered look, they took off at a sprint. Buffy stepped closer to Spike as she counted slowly and just touched his arm. “Go easy on them,” she whispered. She nodded at him a moment later and smiled as he slipped into game face, gave her a fangy smile, and dashed off after the girls. She followed a moment later, calling to the girls behind her. “Try to keep up!” She caught up to the group just as Spike shoved Rona to the ground and caught Vi by the arm, pinning her to him and moving as if to bite her. He stopped a second later, looked up and met her gaze, and slipped back into his human guise. “Okay, these two are dead,” he spoke up, “Why?” “Because the black chick always gets it first?” Rona piped up and Buffy couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s bravado. “What was that, Rona?” she asked, sending Spike a quick look as Vi let out a moan of pain at his tight grip. “I’m dead because he’s a vampire,” Rona continued and Buffy turned her attention back to her, “I don’t have Slayer strength, Slayer speed. It wasn’t a fair fight.” “Vi, do you think I care about a fair fight?” Spike asked threateningly and Buffy had to stifle her giggle. He really was enjoying playing the Big Bad. “No, no sir,” Vi answered hesitantly, “You don’t play by the rules. And I have learned a valuable lesson of some sort.” When Vi let out another cry, Buffy nodded to Spike to let her go. “Okay, Spike.” She turned her attention back to the group and spoke up, hoping that her wisdom wasn’t falling on deaf ears. She needed these girls to understand what they were up against. She needed them to understand their own power. “You’re right. You don’t have Slayer strength. But that doesn’t mean you’re not strong. You have inherent abilities that others don’t have.” There was a tiny pause, but then Molly spoke up. “Not like you do.” And that was the problem, wasn’t it? These girls had all the potential to be like her – but not until she was dead and gone. “No, not yet,” she conceded, “But it’s there. You have the potential. You have strength, speed, instinct. You just have to learn to trust yourself.” She turned and addressed Rona. “Rona, what did your instincts tell you to do just then?” “Block his attack, keep him off balance, gain the advantage…” the girl replied weakly and Buffy had to contradict her. “No they didn’t.” “They told me to run,” the girl admitted and Buffy nodded, turning to Vi. “Vi?” “They told me to run,” the other girl agreed, “They’re still sort of telling me to run.” The girl gave Spike a wary look and once again, Buffy had to stifle her smile. Spike glanced at her and she held his gaze for a moment before turning her attention back to the girls. “Don’t fight on his terms. Your gut’s telling them to run, run. Okay? Regain the higher ground. Make the fight you own.” She turned then to Spike and met his gaze, a tiny spark of something zipping through her as their eyes met, although she remained serious. “Spike, what did your instincts tell you to do just then?” “Hunt. Kill.” God, he thought he was so bad. She threw Spike a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, and turned to the girls, her back to him. “Come at me full speed,” she spoke up, her eyes fixed on the girls even as she ordered Spike to attack, “He needs to kill to live. That tells you everything you need to know.” She heard his low growl and sensed him a moment later, her instinct kicking in as she ducked and he went flying into a nearby gravestone. As soon as he hit the ground, she pounced, pinning him to ground and holding a stake over his chest. “Instinct,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on Spikes for a second before she raised her eyes to the Potentials, “Understand his, but trust yours. You were chosen for a reason.” Spike let out the tiniest of groans, distracting her and drawing her gaze to his worriedly. “Are you okay?” she got out, loosening her grip on him. “I’m fine,” he answered, “Couple of ribs ain’t quite set right since – I’m fine.” Ignoring his blatant lie and oblivious to the interested onlookers, she tugged on his T-shirt. “Let me see.” “No, it’s just-“ “Spike,” she whispered, her fingers grazing his skin. Spike’s hand wrapped around hers a moment later, guiding it away from his chest. “I’m gonna be okay.” One of the Potentials said something then, although she didn’t know what, and brought her back to reality with a start. She missed the next few comments by the girls as she nervously looked away from Spike and hurriedly got to her feet. She helped him stand and quickly turned her attention back to the girls, not liking the way they were looking between the two of them. “Molly, Kennedy, let’s go. You’re up,” she got out, “Next lesson.” She spent the rest of the patrol in a nervous agitation around Spike, saying as little to him as possible and focussing most of her attention on the girls. She had embarrassed herself in front of the girls too and she desperately ignored the quips and the knowing looks aimed in her direction. It wasn’t because she was embarrassed that it was Spike either. It was a strange sort of awkwardness, stemming from the fact that the moment they had shared had been so intimate – and it had played out in front of a crowd. A crowd who had no idea about their history. There was also worry on her part: worry that she had let him convince her he was okay when he was still injured. She watched him carefully for the rest of the evening, watching for any more signs that he was still suffering. She found none, but by the end of their patrol, she had convinced herself that he was just very good at hiding them. And she was determined to check him over, just as soon as they got home. As soon as they were away from the prying eyes of four teenage girls with a thirst for gossip.

Chapter #10 - Ten

Chapter Ten A/N: I think you're going to like this one... :-) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Later that night, she made her way down into the basement, where Spike had taken up residence once more, despite her protests. As he had pointed out – prompting blushes and embarrassment – he couldn’t stay in her bed forever. At least he was no longer shackled down here like a wild animal though. She had refused to even consider the idea, much to the consternation of her friends. He was a guest in her house, a friend, and as such he deserved no such treatment. Instead, she provided him with a bed and plenty of blankets, knowing he liked his comfort. He also had a few more of his possessions, gathered from god knows where. She made her way down into his makeshift bedroom now, determined to make sure he had not been completely lying to her about his recovery. She found him sitting on the bed reading, but he looked up as soon as she started down the steps and rose to his feet as her feet hit the ground. She wondered idly if it was a Victorian thing – standing up whenever she came into the room – or if it was purely a Spike thing, but quickly stopped her musings as she came to a stop a few feet away from him. “You escaped then?” he asked with a wry smile, nodding towards the ceiling. “Yep,” she answered with her own smile, “For now.” They fell silent and Spike hesitated before turning, nodding towards the bed, offering for her to sit. “I’m fine,” she got out quickly, halting him. “Well, alright then,” he murmured, watching her unnervingly. Another long silence descended over them before she finally forced herself to speak up. “You’re still hurt,” she blurted out and Spike raised an eyebrow in something like amusement before shrugging. “I’m fine.” “Yeah, that’s what you say but then you’re all with the ‘oww’,” she exclaimed, softening immediately afterwards, “You don’t have to lie to me, Spike. I need to know if you’re hurting so I can help you.” “S’nothing,” he commented with another shrug, but she was not so easily dissuaded and she rolled her eyes. “Let me look.” “It’s fine, really.” Ignoring his protest, she stepped forward and caught his T-shirt, slipping her hands underneath to press her fingers against his ribs. He flinched a tiny bit with her touch and she looked up at him triumphantly. Just as she was about to comment though, the words got stuck in her throat. He was looking at her with such warmth, such desire, his bright eyes swimming with emotion. It stilled her and prevented any movement, even as she realised just what this scene might look like to an onlooker. His hands reached up and rested over hers for a moment before he ran them slowly up her arms, his eyes still locked on hers. She could hardly breathe and her mouth had gone dry as he continued to just look at her, his hands holding her arms gently. And the ache inside burst into flame, urging her onwards, onwards. “Spike,” she whispered helplessly. A second later, maybe two, and he was kissing her, his lips so soft, so hesitant as they brushed against hers. She let out a sigh against him and kissed him back just as hesitantly. She had never let him kiss her like this before, had never wanted this amount of tenderness in their relationship but now she relished it. She dared not move in case it spoil this moment and she kept her hands on his cool skin, her fingers twitching eagerly against him. He raised one hand to cup her cheek and the last bit of tension eked out of her with a sigh as she leant towards him. He pulled away for a millisecond to let her breathe, but then his mouth was on hers again, peppering short, tantalising kisses over her lips, one after another. She was completely lost in the moment, in the gentleness of this embrace – a gentleness they had never shared before. Moments later, a sudden bang from the kitchen had them parting like lightning and nervously looking towards the basement door. When no-one appeared and they heard voices retreating from the kitchen again a few minutes later, they finally turned to each other, their gazes locking in a blaze of emotion. Her lips were still tingling with Spike’s soft kisses and she raised her fingers to them unthinkingly, missing the shadow that crossed over Spike’s face. “I know,” he burst out suddenly, turning away from her, “It was a mistake. I’m sorry.” She watched him in stunned silence for a full few minutes as he paced to the wall and stopped there, slamming a fist against it angrily. He thought… A beat later and she was striding towards him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around to face her. She took a moment to take in the look of despair on his face, before she reached up and pressed her lips to his once more. He moaned into her mouth and drew her closer, pulling her insistently against his body as her arms twined around him. She let her hunger for him pour out into their kiss now, overwhelmed with the feel of him after so long. He groaned and tugged her closer, pulling her flush against him, one hand burying in her hair and holding her mouth to his. She too craved that closeness and she moulded herself to him, causing him to stumble back into the wall. It was only his muffled cry of pain that stopped her and she pulled away with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, remembering with a flash why she had come here in the first place, “Your ribs.” “I’m okay,” he soothed, running his hands down her arms. “Let me fix you up,” she pleaded, her voice softer than ever, “Please.” After a pause, he let out a sigh and released her. “Okay,” he conceded and she stepped away, moving over to the storage area in search of bandages. “Buffy,” he said hesitantly after a short silence, “Are we going to talk about what happened? Or are we just going to ignore it?” She turned to him, bandage in hand, and frowned ever so slightly before making her way over to him where he sat on the bed. She knelt on the floor in front of him and took his hand in hers, smiling softly. “You going to let me make you better first?” she whispered. He nodded, seemingly bewildered by her gentleness, and she released his hand, only to move both hands to his T-shirt. She tugged it out of his jeans and slowly inched it over his head, placing it down on the bed beside him. Her gaze instantly flew to his ribs, her concerned gaze running over him as she gently stroked her fingers over his ribs. There was still some slight bruising but it had mostly faded and he did seem a lot better. Still, determined to do right by him, she set to bandaging his ribs once more. When she was done though, she was reluctant to stop touching him and she let her hands trace over his shoulders, her hesitant gaze rising to his as he placed a finger under her chin. He traced the same finger over her lips, his eyes watching her with a mixture of fear and hope. He leant towards her ever so slightly but then paused, waiting for her to make the final move. She hardly paused and her lips collided with his in a hungry kiss, her hands braced on the bed either side of him as she sought to get closer. He twined both hands in her hair and drew her close, deepening their kiss and drawing a moan from both of them. He pulled back far too soon though, his forehead resting against hers, blue eyes watching her intently. “Buffy,” he murmured, “What are we doing?” She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts and then met his gaze square on. “I missed you, Spike,” she whispered, “And I don’t want to be missing you anymore when you’re right here.” “Buffy,” he got out, breathing her name like a prayer. “I want you,” she got out boldly, continuing before he could interrupt, “Not like before. God, not like before.” She glanced up at him and stopped, drinking in the look on his face: that precious hope, that overwhelming love, all of it. They just stayed there, staring at each other, for a long few minutes and it was only when her knees started to protest that she shifted. “You know, this floor’s really uncomfortable.” That simple comment seemed to break through the tension and Spike laughed, taking her hand and drawing her to her feet, only to pull her gently down onto the bed beside him. She rested her back against the wall and curled her legs up, her knees resting against his as he turned to her, his hand still clutched in hers. He raised his free hand to her face and tucked a hair behind her ear as she leaned into his touch. “I must be dreaming.” She let out a tiny laugh and opened her eyes once more to meet his bright gaze. “Feels like it, doesn’t it?” she whispered with a smile, unable to resist the urge to reach out and trace his bare shoulder. He leaned in with a smile and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, lingering for the shortest of moments. “Is this real?” he murmured against her lips. “Do you doubt me?” When he hesitated, she gave a low, bitter laugh. “Of course you do. And I guess you have every right to. After what I did-“ He cut her off with a kiss that took her breath away, tugging her towards him and settling her in his lap before she could even think. She moaned and twined her arms around his neck - somehow remembering through the haze of her lust not to hold him too tightly – as she kissed him back hungrily. She became minutely aware of every little movement he made, of his bare skin under her hands, of his soft touch on her back. He parted from her for a brief second and then kissed her again, softly once more, taking his time. And she let him take control, savouring this intimacy, this new start.

Chapter #11 - Eleven

Chapter Eleven ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was much later – or maybe even early the next day – when she finally suggested making her way to her own bed. Not that she was complaining about her current position: lying on her back beside Spike, who was watching her with a constant smile, propped up on one elbow. “Not yet,” he murmured, dropping his head to find that spot on her neck that made her melt every time. She closed her eyes and arched into his touch, her hand reaching up and her fingers twining themselves in his blonde curls. He had one leg resting over hers and she shifted now, rubbing her leg against his, enjoying the simple contact. Her bare foot found his and she rubbed her toes over his, her hand sliding down from his hair and over his bare shoulders. He lowered himself to the bed now, his mouth just resting against her skin, his arm draped over her waist. She rubbed her head against him almost like a cat and he tightened his grip on her, pressing a kiss to her temple. She had never imagined it could be like this between them, but things had changed so much lately and had brought them to this place. Had brought her to this place where she could let herself enjoy his closeness, his gentleness. After some talking – interrupted and finally brought to a stop when they couldn’t stop kissing – they had spread out here, side by side. And, several hours later, they hadn’t moved. They had paused to kick off their shoes but that was as far as they had got. They had spent these twilight hours simply enjoying this newfound closeness: kissing, talking quietly, sometimes just laying in companionable silence. Her nerves had completely disappeared after about twenty minutes and she had truly relaxed around him for perhaps the first time. She had let him in too, had talked to him of her fears for the future; she had even hinted at her ever stronger feelings for him. She hadn’t quite built up the courage to tell him straight though. There was plenty of time for that, later, after she had relearned the taste of his kisses. She let out a little sigh of content and shifted down the bed, tucking her head under his chin and draping one arm around his waist. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she closed her eyes, savouring the moment. “I’ve needed this for a long time,” she murmured. “Oh yeah?” She nodded and he chuckled, running one hand over her hair. “Should have said something.” “I know,” she agreed, “But I was afraid. Everything was different. You were different.” “I’m still me,” he commented, “And I’m still in love with you. Getting a soul doesn’t change that.” “But it did change you. One look and the old Spike would have had me up against the nearest surface.” “Whether you liked or not,” Spike got out, his tone flooded with bitterness, and she jerked her head back to meet his eyes. “Don’t,” she whispered, reaching up to press her hand to his cheek, her heart jumping with the self-loathing in his eyes, “There was never a moment when I didn’t want you, Spike. You knew that.” “And used it against you,” he bit out, closing his eyes, his jaw strained with emotion. She said nothing but tightened her grip on him, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Spike,” she murmured against his skin, “I don’t want to remember that time. I don’t want to remember the awful things we did to each other. I want this to be a new start for us. Separate from all that bad history.” He was silent for a long time and she feared what his reaction might be until he caught her face with both hands and raised her gaze to his. “Whatever you want, Buffy,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion, “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He kissed her then, his pain and his love and his despair all pouring into his kiss. She clung to him, winding her arms around him, kissing him back passionately. Somehow, he ended up propped up above her, his body just pressed against hers as they kissed hungrily, weeks and weeks of restrained lust making them desperate, aching for more. She twisted her hands in her hair, holding his mouth to hers, one leg hooking around his. She wanted him all of a sudden, a hot insistent flame burning her up from the inside, every touch setting her alight even more. She moaned into his mouth and he broke away, breathing heavily as he regarded her with heavy-lidded eyes. She met his gaze, her chest heaving as she struggled to calm her breathing, her heart pounding so hard she thought it must sound like thunder to him. And just like that, that pure white-hot lust dissipated. His expression softened and he lifted some of his weight off her, his lips descending to meet hers in a sweet caress. It was this that she had longed for most in the last weeks: this sweet intimacy. There was none of the violence that had coloured their relationship before, nor even any of the insistent I-need-you-right-here kind of hunger. She was content to lay in his arms, relishing his gentle kisses, his tender caresses. She had craved this tenderness for longer than she could imagined, but had held herself away from it before and had prevented him from ever being able to show it. Now, it all came out and she finally got to see the Spike she should have been with: the gentle, loving, tender Spike who just wanted to hold her, wanted to have this simple intimacy with her. She had been a fool to push him away so much. There was no time for regret though – she finally had her chance again and it was time to show him what she could really be like. What they could be like together. She broke away from him with a start and he looked down at her in surprise. “I want to tell the others,” she said, “About us.” He was stunned into momentary silence and he slid off her, moving to his former position at her side. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Yes,” she answered firmly, “I’m not going to hide this time.” “Buffy,” he whispered emotionally, his fingers stroking her cheek, “God, I love you.” She caught his hand in hers, pressing it against her skin, her whole body humming with a feeling of deep content. “I never want to hide again,” she whispered, half to herself, “Not from you and not from anyone else.” His kiss caught her by surprise but she returned it eagerly, wrapping herself around him, losing herself in him just as she had a hundred times before.

Chapter #12 - Twelve

Chapter Twelve ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Somehow she managed to peel herself away from Spike – reluctant for her part and trying her hardest to resist that pout – and with one last kiss, left him alone in the basement. The sun had begun to come up and she wanted to be up and about before they could be surprised upon by any of the house’s many occupants. There was, after all, a time and a place for breaking this sort of news. Having someone walk in while they were in the middle of a makeout session was probably not the best way for people to find out about this new turn in their relationship. She gave Spike one final wave before slipping out through the door before he could turn those bedroom eyes on her and lure her back to him. She shut it behind her and smiled to herself before turning towards the stairs – and freezing in surprise. “Dawnie,” she got out, her voice suspiciously high-pitched. Arms crossed across her chest, Dawn regarded her with one raised eyebrow, making her feel extraordinarily as if she was facing her mother, not her younger sister. She crossed her own arms over her chest – more out of defensiveness than anything else – and rested against the door, suddenly wishing she hadn’t left Spike downstairs in the darkness of the basement. “So you’re back together then?” She was surprised by Dawn’s bluntness but as she let out a shaky breath, she nodded. “We’re together.” “It’s not very secret if you’re admitting it,” Dawn pointed out. “I don’t want it to be a secret,” Buffy answered, finally relaxing under her sister’s glare. Coming clean had been much easier than she suspected. There was a silence between the two sisters and Buffy’s mind drifted to the vampire only a few feet below her feet. He would probably be able to hear them and she could almost picture the look on his face. That look she had already seen a number of times in the last twelve hours: one of awe and wonder and love. She contemplated rejoining him downstairs, as a treat to herself for taking this big first step, but Dawn’s voice soon pulled her out of her reverie. “So, you’re really doing this? I mean, you and Spike. You’re really going to be, like, a couple?” She couldn’t stop the almost goofy smile that spread across her face and she had to drop her gaze from her sister’s in embarrassment. “Yes, Dawnie,” she replied, calming down enough to raise her eyes to her sister’s a few moments later, “I really care about him.” “And you’re not going to be messing each other up again?” Dawn asked, her voice sounding more and more uncertain and girlish with every question, her eyes searching Buffy’s eagerly. “No. Things have changed, Dawn. Everything’s changed.” “So, you’re happy now?” “Yes,” Buffy answered after barely a moment’s pause, letting out a little sigh of content before she continued somewhat dreamily, “Dawnie, you can’t imagine how good it feels. I… God, I care about him so much and I thought I’d lost any chance I ever had… but he still loves me, Dawnie. He really does and I know things are going to be different now. I won’t make the same mistakes again.” There was a long silence after her speech and she looked at her sister worriedly as Dawn’s gaze fixed on the worktop. “Dawnie?” she called out hesitantly, starting to get nervous. Dawn shook her head and regarded her with a teary look, smiling softly. “I haven’t seen you like this since… since before Mom…” Dawn gave a little sniffle and then she was all woman again, her smile growing. “You look happy. Happier than you’ve been in a long time.” “I am, Dawnie. I really am.” Dawn paused for a moment and then her expression turned hesitant. “I’m sorry I was so horrible about Spike,” she murmured, “I just… he hurt you. And it hurt me too.” Unable to keep her distance anymore, Buffy rounded the counter to stand close to her sister, reaching up to brush a hand over her hair. “I know you were just looking out for me.” “I just couldn’t believe that he would…” Dawn trailed off awkwardly and Buffy swallowed hard before smiling gently. “It’s in the past,” she whispered, “It’s not important anymore. What’s important is that I still care about him and we’re in a place where we can really be with each other.” Dawn hesitated for a moment but then enveloped her in a tight hug that surprised her. When she pulled back, Dawn was smiling widely, her eyes bright with excitement. “God, I want to know everything! I can just imagine the look on Spike’s face!” Buffy laughed and stroked her hand over her sister’s hair, her heart light with the knowledge that at least one person was not going to frown on her relationship with Spike. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ After finally managing to deflect some of Dawn’s more delving questions, she decided to take advantage of the fact that most of the house seemed to be sleeping in and take a shower. She changed into her dressing gown in her room and snuck out along the hall to the bathroom, smiling to herself all the while. She opened the door and slipped in, pausing for a moment in surprise before shutting the door behind her. “Hey,” she got out softly, taking in Spike’s wet hair, damp chest and low-slung jeans with one sweep of her eyes. “’Lo,” he got out, turning to face her, a towel in his hand, “Planning for a shower?” “Seemed like a good idea,” she murmured, suddenly unable to stop her smile. Spike smiled too and after a moment’s pause, he made his way over to her and kissed her softly, his hands reaching up to cup her face. When he pulled back to look at her, his eyes were shining with love and she let herself bask in the warmth it caused, letting out a little hum of satisfaction. “I should get to the showering,” she whispered after some prolonged basking. He smiled gently and released her, allowing her to step forward and turn on the shower. “Here, let me,” Spike got out, moving forward to help with the shower curtain, just as she turned to face him. She ended up wedged between him and the bath, one hand on the shower curtain, and for a moment they both froze. She couldn’t help it – despite everything that had happened, despite all they had talked about since then – but as soon as she got stuck in this position, a flashback hit her, knocking the breath from her and making her eyes go wide. She saw grasping hands and heard her own cries echo in her head. When she met Spike’s gaze, his expression quickly flooded with horror and he stumbled backwards, his eyes going wider than hers. “Buffy,” he choked out, “I-“ In the time it had taken him to retreat, her flashback had faded into nothingness and she righted herself, her heart returning to a steady beat. She saw the loathing and the sickness flash across his face and she quickly stepped forward, drawing his tortured gaze to hers. She continued forward and reached up, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Buffy,” he whispered helplessly, eyes searching hers. “Shh,” she replied in hushed tones, stepping into him and leaning up to kiss him, so softly and so gently that she felt him tremble. His hands ghosted over her arms, as if he was afraid to hold her, and she moved closer, clinging to one shoulder as she kissed him. She felt the tension seep out of him and she finally pulled back, meeting his eyes. “It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking her thumb across his cheek. He said nothing in reply but a moment later, he tugged her into his embrace, burying his head against her and holding her tightly as he took several ragged breaths. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his neck, her hand rubbing soothingly over his back. “It’s okay,” she whispered again and she felt a tremor run through him just before he tightened his grip on her.

Chapter #13 - Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen A/N: Sorry for the slight delay! Hopefully some fluff will make up for it... :-) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sometimes, life just had a way of throwing things in the way, of diverting you off on a different course. And life as the Slayer seemed to involve this sort of thing on a daily basis. With reports of new potentials coming in thick and fast, there was barely time to think about a relationship, let alone inform her friends. And she felt bad about it, she really did – she owed it to Spike to come clean. There just never seemed to be a good time though: there was always some new crisis to deal with. It was either Dawn getting into trouble, or Willow hooking up with one of the Potentials, or – oh yeah – the pending apocalypse. Two days after their reunion of sorts, and she still hadn’t had a chance to talk to her friends. There were two things that made this situation worse: firstly, the fact that Dawn knew and did not hesitate to embarrass her and secondly, the fact that she had to sneak around. This last was the absolute worst because she had promised Spike – promised herself – that this time would be different and here she was, sneaking down into the basement in the early hours of the morning. Spike was awake and waiting for her as she crept down the stairs and made her way over to the cot, sinking to his side and leaning over to kiss him. It had been too long already and as soon as their lips touched, she was lost. He reached up and twisted his hand in her hair, drawing her close as she let out a moan. She could feel the desperation in his kiss, mirroring her own and she clutched his shirt, pressing herself close to him. When they finally parted for breath, she clung to him still, savouring his closeness. “I missed you.” “Missed you too,” he murmured, brushing his hand over her hair and diving in for another kiss. She clung to him tighter and he dragged her over his lap, lowering her to the bed, his body pressed against hers. He parted from her and his mouth dropped to her neck, causing her to gasp and cling to him even more. “Spike,” she moaned, her whine drawing his mouth back to hers. He kissed her passionately, hands skimming over her arms, her shoulders, her waist – driving her mad. With her arms banded around him, she kissed him back just as hungrily, her body yearning for his in a way it hadn’t since they had come together once more. Their kiss grew feverish and just when she thought she might lose it, he pulled back, supporting himself on his hands and looking down at her with hungry, dark eyes. She touched her hand to his cheek and his expression instantly changed into one of gentle affection, his fingers moving to stroke over her jaw. “Missed kissing you,” he murmured ever so lowly, a near-pout on his lips. “I know,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, her lips grazing his, “I’m sorry.” He seemed to savour her embrace for a moment, but then he pulled back, shifting to a more comfortable position. “Nothing to be sorry about.” “There is!” she protested, “I said I would tell my friends and I haven’t. And now we’re sneaking around and I… I hate it.” Spike’s cool finger on her lips silenced her momentarily and she was glad to see a smile playing about his lips. “I hate it too,” he answered softly, his finger tracing her mouth, “You know I do. But it’s not important. I’ve got you, haven’t I?” His confidence turned so quickly to uncertainty that she almost missed it, but for that look in his eyes – that look she knew so well and had so often ignored. “You’ve got me,” she whispered, unable to suppress her smile as she leaned up to press her lips to his. She kissed him softly and pulled back to meet his bright gaze. “You should know that by now.” He raised an eyebrow in protest and she punched him playfully on the shoulder. “You know I care about you, Spike,” she murmured, blushing with the words. He made no reply, instead just watching with that soft blue gaze, head tilted to one side. “Ow,” he murmured a moment later and she frowned in confusion. “Ow? Well, erm, thanks?” “Ow,” he repeated, louder this time, his forehead creasing up in pain. Before she could say anything, he let out a cry, his hand coming to his forehead as he rolled onto his back. “Spike?” she got out worriedly. He let out another sharp cry of pain and she sat up quickly, looking down at him in concern as he writhed in pain. “Spike, what is it?” she got out breathlessly. “Chip,” he gasped out, a loud scream leaving his lips a moment later as he huddled into himself, the pain ripping through his body. She felt helpless as she watched him in pain and she panicked, not knowing what to do, how to make it better. He let out another cry and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly in hers, feeling his weak squeeze in reply. “Spike?” Eyes closed, he pinched his nose with his free hand, his forehead wrinkled in pain. The pain seemed to have passed for now and she touched her hand to his temple. “Are you okay?” He opened his eyes and gave her a weak smile and she returned with her own, her fingers brushing over his temple. The door to the basement flew open a few moments later and a loud voice pierced the near-darkness. “What’s going on?” Dawn called out. “It’s okay, Dawnie,” Buffy called back, eyes squinting when her sister flicked the light on. Dawn, it turned out, was not alone and Willow and Xander peered down into the basement warily. Spike let out another cry of pain and Dawn hurried down into the room. “Is he okay?” “I’m fine,” Spike choked out after the pain had calmed – but the frown on his face belied his reassuring words. “It’s the chip,” Buffy explained worriedly, turning her gaze to her friends as they moved down into the basement as well. “I wasn’t even… I didn’t do anything,” Spike mumbled, his hand held to his forehead. “So it’s firing by itself?” Willow asked with a frown. Frowning as well, Buffy trailed her fingers over his shoulder, turning to her friends. “Will, is there anything you can do?” “M’fine,” Spike protested, pushing himself into a sitting position, “S’gone already.” “If it’s messing around, I want it fixed,” Buffy replied firmly, fixing her gaze on his and letting him see her worry before turning back to her friend, “Will?” “I… I don’t think I could do anything, Buffy. I mean, I don’t know how the chip works and I wouldn’t know how to… how to fix it. It’s way beyond me.” Obviously seeing Buffy’s disappointed look, Willow chirped up again. “We’ll find something though. We’ll start looking first thing in the morning.” Dawn nodded her agreement and Buffy sighed in defeat. “Yeah, I guess so.” She threw a worried look at Spike and he forced a smile. “So, we should get back to bed then,” Xander commented, “Early start on the chip research and all.” “Good plan,” Dawn agreed with a yawn. “You guys sleep well,” Buffy replied, “I’ll see you in the morning.” She spotted Xander’s frown when she made no move to leave but thankfully he didn’t comment and after bidding them both goodnight, her friends left. She turned to Spike instantly, her hand reaching up to touch his face. “Are you okay?” she asked, cutting in before he could answer, “And don’t lie to me.” He let out a sharp breath and smiled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Bit of a headache.” She narrowed her eyes at him but he just smiled and drew her close, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. “Feel much better already,” he murmured, his voice muffled by her hair. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, sinking into his embrace. “You scared me,” she mumbled, her face hiding against his chest. “Sorry.” She let out a tiny laugh and closed her eyes, relaxing against him. “Time to sleep,” Spike whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Sleep is good.” She slid reluctantly out of his grip and lowered herself to the bed, curling up on her side and smiling as he settled behind her, his arm reaching out to wrap around her waist. She rested her hand on his arm and with a soft smile, let her eyes fall closed.

Chapter #14 - Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She woke to the sound of a badly muffled cry and started up, spotting Spike at a distance, his head cradled in his hands. “Spike?” He turned to her and smiled weakly as she jumped to her feet, moving to his side and laying her hand on her arm. “Is it getting worse?” “I’m fine,” he reassured her, but she wasn’t that easily fooled and she frowned, reaching up to stroke her fingers over his temple. “I’m going to fix this, I promise.” He ran his hand over her shoulder and stepped closer, pressing a light kiss to her lips. She leaned into him, her hand resting at the back of his neck and holding him close. Their moment was soon broken though as he winced, pulling away from her with a sharp intake of breath. This attack seemed tamer than usual, but it still caused a determined look to settle on her face. “We’re going to sort this,” she said firmly. He went to protest but she cut him off, pressing her hand to his chest. “Now.” He frowned but as she turned to the stairs, he fell in behind her, following her up into the kitchen and through the living room. She crept past a few sleeping girls and retrieved the phone, retreating to the empty kitchen. “Love, what are you doing?” Spike asked, leaning against the counter beside her as she rifled through a drawer in search of a certain piece of paper. She finally found it and pulled it out with a triumphant cry. She typed in the numbers on the slip of paper and raised her eyes to Spike's. “Fixing this the only way I know how.” He frowned but before he could say anything, a voice picked up at the other end. “Hi, I’m looking for Riley Finn.” The woman on the other end seemed to have no idea what she was talking about and she frowned. “Look, I need to talk to Riley. Agent Finn.” The woman once again repeated that she did not know a Riley Finn and Buffy clenched her hand into a tight fist. “Look, is this just a cover-up thing, because it’s really getting on my nerves. I need Riley.” When the woman continued to be useless, she had to clench her jaw from becoming overly rude. Her nails were digging into the palm of her hand and she took a deep calming breath. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but just… just tell Riley Buffy was looking for him.” She hung up and placed the phone down with a despondent sigh. Spike laid a hand against her back and she turned to him with a weak smile. “I don’t know what else to do. Either that flower shop was just some big government conspiracy or… I don’t know.” Spike smiled and stepped closer, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “We’ll find something,” he reassured her, his voice turning cold as he continued in a murmur, “Don’t need Soldier Boy’s help.” She laughed and pulled back a little to look at him. “Jealous, huh?” He narrowed his eyes at her and she smiled coyly, leaning into him. She leaned right in close, her lips hovering just shy of his earlobe. “You don’t need to be jealous,” she whispered, “Not anymore.” “That a fact?” he asked, his voice husky and soft. She smiled but before she could reply, the sound of rousing potentials and approaching voices parted them, just in time for her friends to enter the kitchen. “Morning, morning,” Xander greeted cheerfully, “Are we researching already?” He looked between her and Spike and she smiled crookedly. “I just tried to contact Riley.” “And?” Willow asked curiously. “No luck… I think. Unless he’s become a florist lately.” She frowned at her own suggestion and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m stuck. Any suggestions?” “Buffy-“ She cut Spike off with a pointed look before he could even begin to protest and he rolled his eyes, relenting. Xander made a whip noise and she giggled, quickly falling silent when – midway through a frown in her direction – Spike groaned in pain. She hovered by him anxiously – feeling the pain of helplessness in her chest – waiting for the pain to pass. When it did, she cast a worried look over him, even as he put on a nonchalant expression for the others watching him. She had to find a way to fix this, had to think of someone, anyone, who would know what to do. But only the Initiative knew exactly what they had done and – She paused mid-thought and raised wide eyes to Spikes, causing him to raise an eyebrow in question. “We’re going to the Initiative,” she remarked, surprising him. “Hate to be the one to break it to you, but it’s long gone, love.” “The people, yes,” she agreed, half-tempted to give him a slap round the head for his teasing, “But not the paperwork, the files. There must be something, anything, that we can use.” No-one said anything for a moment and she turned to her friends, her gaze flicking over their faces. “It could be worth a try,” Willow suggested with a shrug. “Good,” she concluded with a nod, “We try it then.” She glanced at the window then and frowned impatiently. “Just as soon as the sun sets.” She sighed and brushed her hair back from her face. “Damn.” A long silence spread over the group, broken several minutes later by Xander. “We could take my car,” he suggested with a shrug, as if he wasn’t quite sure he liked what he was suggesting, “It’s not entirely sun-proof, but better than nothing, huh?” She looked to Spike and he shrugged just as nonchalantly. She rolled her eyes and turned to her friend. “Go get your car.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “I’m not sure this was a good idea,” Dawn whispered, trailing just behind her as they made their way through the dark corridors of the abandoned Initiative. Willow and Xander were just behind Dawn and Spike was in front of her, his hand just touching hers, unseen in the low light. With his much better eyesight and knowledge of the Initiative’s maze of rooms, he was leading the way. She felt him wince and his hand grabbed hers as he fought the pain stubbornly, hardly faltering in his step. She linked her fingers through his and squeezed back, wishing she could just take away his pain. After all, she had caused enough of it in the past. “Steps,” Spike called, jolting her out of her daze and back to the present. She followed him carefully down the stairs and through another maze of corridors, before they suddenly came out into the large main room that she soon recognised as being the place where she had watched demons destroy the Initiative. “The experiment rooms were near here someone, I’m sure,” Spike commented, pausing for a moment, his eyes scanning the darkness. “Will, anything you can do to help here?” She could almost feel her friend’s uncertainty but a moment later, a ball of light appeared in her hand, growing until they could see some of the room a little clearer. It was mess – weapons and equipment scattered all over the place. She would have thought the Initiative would have erased any trace of itself, but it seems they may have been in a rush to leave. They fanned out a little, everyone trying to figure out where to look. “Maybe we should try over -“ Dawn’s voice was cut off by her girly squeal as the lights suddenly flew on, revealing a line of soldiers not twenty metres away. They all spun to face the armed soldiers and she held her hands out slightly, hoping they would ask first, shoot later. Or not shoot at all, ideally. “Are you Buffy Summers?” The leader had been addressing Dawn but when she heard her name, Buffy stepped forward. “That’s me.” “I understand you were trying to contact Riley Finn earlier today.” “Guilty,” she answered, still wary of how the soldiers might react. The leader straightened and smiled ever so slightly. “He said we’re to help with whatever you need.” She was shocked into momentary silence but then she smiled brightly. “Well… good. How are you with behavioural chips?” The soldiers shared a look and then the leader nodded. “Right this way.”

Chapter #15 - Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen A/N: Two updates today, yay! Make sure to read Chapter 14 first. Thank you all for your continued support and encouragement. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She had never been particularly good at waiting and now was no exception. She was anxious and she was nervous and no amount of pacing could quell that faint fear in her heart. After all, this was the Initiative. Who knew what they might try to do to Spike. They looked like they were being all friendly and co-operative but what if it was all a cover?! She was making herself worse now and she forced herself to sit, her hands clenching in fists. Her stillness lasted all of five seconds before she was up on her feet again, biting her lip and pacing the floor. “Hey! Crazy Buffy!” She stopped at Xander’s exclamation and blushed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I hate waiting,” she sulked, her eyes straying in the direction of the room where Spike was – hopefully – having his chip sorted. There was another long silence and she almost started pacing again when Xander spoke up. “So how long have you been sleeping together this time?” Her head whipped round to face her friend, eyes going wide in surprise. He didn’t look angry, surprisingly, just curious and she softened a little, despite her nervousness. “We’re not sleeping together,” she answered quietly. When she saw Xander let out a deep breath, she continued before he could get the wrong idea. “But we are together.” He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly as he regarded her for a moment before answering. “How long have you been hiding it this time then, Buff?” His question was spoken in a soft tone, almost hurtful and she found any anger dissolving into nothingness. “Not as long as you think,” she replied, “Barely a week.” “It’s true,” Dawn chirped up, “I only found out a few days ago.” She sent a glare at her sister but when she turned back to Xander, he said nothing. “Guess this explains why you suddenly went from uber-Slayer to chilled-out Buffy,” Xander mused, smiling ever so slightly. “I care about him, Xander.” “Yeah, that was kind of obvious,” her friend returned with a smile, Willow and her sister joining him. “It wasn’t that obvious,” she protested with a slight blush. Dawn’s snort of laughter ended her embarrassment quickly as she sent a glare in her sister’s direction. She then turned back to her two friends. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I’m telling you now. Spike and me are an item.” “And you’re not even a little worried?” Willow asked hesitantly. “Worried about what?” “Well, the trigger-“ “It’s not important,” she interrupted, continuing softly, “You loved Oz, didn’t you? Even though he was dangerous three days a month.” Willow smiled softly and Buffy turned her attention to Xander, almost bracing herself for his resistance. Before he could speak though, his attention was drawn to something behind her shoulder and she spun round quickly to face the lieutenant in charge of the small band of soldiers. She stepped forward and searched his face eagerly. “Well?” He paused for a moment and then spoke up. “We’ve managed to stop the chip from reacting. But it can’t stay in there.” “What do you mean?” “It’s already caused some damage. If we left it…” He trailed off and she frowned at the implication. “Well, what do we do?” she asked impatiently. “That’s your choice.” “My choice?” she echoed dumbly. “We can replace the chip. Or we can remove it.” She didn’t have to think about her answer for a second. “Remove it.” “Buffy-“ Ignoring her friends’ worried cry, she fixed her determined gaze on the lieutenant. “Take it out.” “You’re sure?” “I’m sure.” He nodded and disappeared once more, leaving her alone in a room grown silent with tension. She turned back to her friends and before anyone could even think about speaking up, she spoke. “You heard what he said. That thing was causing damage.” “But Buffy…” Xander started hesitantly, but he had no chance to finish his sentence because she dove in again. “I trust Spike. He doesn’t need a chip.” Her tone brooked no opposition and thankfully none came. In silence, she moved back to her seat and went back to the agony of waiting. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Almost an hour later, the door to the room opened once more and she jumped to her feet as Spike emerged, a ridiculous bandage wrapped around his head. She rushed to him and looked him over carefully. “Good as new,” he commented with a smile, nodding his thanks to the soldier at his side. “I really need to escort you off the premises now, Miss,” the lieutenant commented, “It’s not safe down here.” She wanted to laugh but she wisely held her tongue, letting the lieutenant lead them through the maze to the nearest exit. As soon as they were topside once more and she had given her message of thanks for Riley to the lieutenant, she turned to Spike anxiously. “How are you feeling?” “Told you, good as new. They hook me up with a new chip, yeah?” There was a pause and her friends silently retreated a few metres, leaving them alone. Spike watched them with a raised eyebrow and then turned his attention back to her. “Wha’s going on?” “They didn’t give you a new chip.” “Fix the old one, did they?” “No, Spike,” she murmured with a smile, “No chip. It’s gone.” He was silent for a moment and then he raised an eyebrow, regarding her somewhat suspiciously. “Gone?” “Gone,” she repeated. “Why?” he asked, genuine surprise in his tone. She stepped a tiny bit closer and smiled. “Because I trust you, you idiot.” He tilted his head and just looked at her for a few seconds, causing a flush of warmth to work its way through her. “Much appreciated,” he murmured, eyes flickering to their audience and back to her once more. “You’re a bonehead sometimes,” she whispered and his eyes widened in surprise. “What have I done now?” She shook her head and smiled, before stepping close and leaning in to kiss him. He returned her kiss for a few short seconds before he pulled back, gaze flicking over her shoulder and returning to hers once more. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve been having a little chat while I was seeing the doc?” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, shut up,” she murmured, leaning him and kissing him once more, her arms twining round him and holding him close. Their audience was forgotten for the moment as he kissed her back, his hand twining in her hair as his arm tightened around her waist. She let out a low moan and pressed herself close to him, allowing him to deepen their kiss. “Okay, okay, time to get a room,” Xander remarked and they parted, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Spike, however, only flashed the other man a smirk and draped an arm around her shoulder, holding her close. He propelled her into motion and pressed a kiss to her hair. “We’re finishing this later,” he whispered, squeezing her waist and sending a jolt of desire through her.

Chapter #16 - Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ All thoughts of the night that lay ahead were unfortunately pushed aside as soon as she walked into her house, hand in hand with Spike, only to find her mentor waiting for her. Giles took one look at their joined hands and took to cleaning his glasses, as if hoping he had seen wrong. “Giles!” she got in surprise, “You’re back.” “Indeed. Chao-Ahn is upstairs, settling in.” He had replaced his glasses by now and his gaze fixed on her, making her feel like all the years they had known each other had disappeared and she was back to being that teenager who her Watcher despaired of. “Good,” she got out, a momentary desire to release Spike’s hand quashed as he tried to slip away. She held him tighter and threw a tiny glance in his direction. He stopped then and turned back to Giles with her. A tense silence filled the room for a few seconds, before Willow spoke up, forcing a cheerful smile. “So, we just got back from the Initiative.” If only she hadn’t decided to go down that particular conversational route. Buffy could just imagine how Giles was going to react to the news of Spike’s chip. “The Initiative?” he asked curiously, looking around at their small group, “What for?” She paused, not knowing what to say, her voice stuck in her throat. “Well, Spike had a chip problem,” Xander spoke up and suddenly she saw her friend’s interference for what it was – support. For her and Spike. “Has it been fixed?” Giles asked, eyes fixing on the vampire, his voice betraying that he believed not. “It didn’t need fixing,” Buffy finally found the courage to say, “It needed removing.” Giles said nothing for a long time after her comments and she could only brace herself. He polished his glasses slowly and then replaced them, a sad smile stretching across his face. “I see.” The silence settled in again but he spoke up. “If you’ll excuse me, I should check on Chao-Ahn.” Before she could say anything, Giles was gone and she watched him trudge up the stairs, looking older than ever. He seemed almost… sad. She could hear the murmur of her friends’ voices but all she could think about was that look in Giles’ eyes when he fleetingly met her gaze on the way to the stairs. She had hurt him – and she had no idea how. She felt a gentle tug on her hand and she turned to find Spike watching her, head tilting to take her in better, his eyes softening into an expression of understanding. “Go on,” he whispered, nodding to the stairs. He understood, of course he did. He had seen that pain in her Watcher too and knew that she had to fix it. She smiled her thanks and leaned forward to brush a kiss over his lips. “Later, I promise,” she whispered to him, pulling back and flashing a smile at her friends before turning to the stairs. She had to take a deep, steadying breath but then she was moving, quickly making her way up the stairs. She could hear the low murmur of girls’ voices coming from Dawn’s room and she turned towards her own room, her heart thumping with something like fear. She pushed open the door and a startled Giles rose to his feet, his glasses clutched in his hand, his expression one of weariness. “Oh Buffy! I’ll just…“ He gestured to the door but she stepped in and closed it behind her, smiling softly. “I think we need to talk.” Giles regarded her with surprise for a moment and then he nodded, head tilted ever so slightly as he looked at her. Maybe it was a British thing. Before she could even think about what she wanted to say, Giles spoke up, drawing her eyes to his. “So you’ve resumed your… relationship… with Spike?” he asked softly. “Yeah,” she answered just as quietly, moving to sit on her dressing table stool. “I guess I should have seen this coming,” Giles mused with a faraway look, before turning his attention back to her. “Not necessarily,” she murmured, “It was kind of a surprise to me, really.” He smiled and settled on her bed, a few feet away from her. “Not deep down though,” he commented, his words a statement, not a question. She paused before answering, considering her words, before finally starting. “Things are different now,” she pointed out, “Everything’s different.” “His soul,” Giles mumbled, nodding to himself, his glasses once again being subjected to a rigorous polishing. “Not just that,” she spoke up, drawing his eyes back to hers, “I’ve changed, Giles. You weren’t here, you didn’t see what kind of person I became.” “I’m sure it was only as a consequence of the exceptional circumstances surrounding your… resurrection.” “I wish I could blame it on that,” she got out with a laugh and Giles regarded her with a sad look. “I wasn’t a very nice person last year,” she confided in him, turning serious once more, “I just got so caught up in… well, life, I guess. And people I cared about suffered.” “Including Spike.” “Yes.” There was a silence between them and she examined her Watcher, wishing she could read his thoughts as he sat in silence, his gaze fixed on the carpet pensively. He shook himself a few moments later and raised his eyes to hers. “Are you happy?” he asked quietly, gaze fixed on hers, “Truly?” “Yes, Giles,” she whispered, “And I know it’s not the right time but I… there’s never going to be a right time. I have to take this chance.” “Of course.” “And I haven’t forgotten about anything. I’m still going to fight. I’m going to do my duty and I’m going to beat this evil. Being with Spike isn’t going to get in the way. Just in case you thought it was.” Giles smiled and rose to his feet, coming to her side and laying his hand on her shoulder. “I know you would never forget your duty,” he remarked with an affectionate smile, “You are an amazing Slayer, Buffy.” She flushed with his praise and smiled back, resting her hand over his. “However,” Giles spoke up and she felt her heart sink, “I don’t want you to think there is no time for anything else.” Her head jerked up, her gaze flying to his. “The situation is dire, it’s true. But don’t get so wrapped up in it that you lose yourself… don’t start to push those who care about you away.” She smiled and shook her head, knowing that her Watcher knew her too well to say these things as a joke. “I just want you to remember that.” “I will.” There was a moment of companionable silence and then she rose to her feet, enveloping a surprised Giles in a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. He returned her hug and patted her back, before releasing her. “I just want you to be happy, Buffy,” he said gently, “Even if I have my doubts.” “We can trust Spike.” “I hope that’s true,” he answered, “Because we shall need his help, everyone’s help, before the end.” “I know,” she said with a firm nod. He smiled weakly and squeezed her arm before moving away. She watched him leave with a smile and then her thoughts drifted down into the basement, to the vampire waiting there for her. She turned quickly and left her room, pulling the door closed behind her and heading slowly down the stairs, her whole body thrumming with anticipation. She gave a little wave to her friends where they sat in the living room and headed for the basement door, her heart lurching as she wrapped her fingers around the handle. A few moments’ hesitation and then she was moving, opening the door, stepping inside, and pulling the door shut behind her.

Chapter #17 - Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Hi,” she said quietly as she reached the bottom step, her eyes locked on Spike’s as he sat up. Thankfully, the ridiculous bandage was gone from his head. Her heart was pounding and her stomach was filled with butterflies but she would not trade this moment for the world. “Come here,” Spike called softly, holding out his hand to her. Without hesitation, she moved towards him and sank to the cot at his side, her hand linked in his. He brushed his hand over her hair as he took her in, his eyes searching hers. “I’m gonna guess that you being here means it went okay with the Watcher,” he murmured, his knuckles stroking over her cheek. “What do you think?” she whispered, her eyes locking with his. He smiled ever so slightly and then leant in to kiss her, his hand slipping behind her neck and drawing her close. He drew her back with him and she spread out by his side, her hands coming to rest on his chest, their knees touching. He pulled back from their kiss and regarded her for a long moment, his fingers stroking down her arm. Finally, growing nervous under his inspection, she shrank back. “What?” she whispered with a smile, “Do I have a spot on my forehead or something?” He laughed lowly and pulled her close once more. “I was just savouring the moment,” he murmured, dipping his head and kissing her, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. She twined her arm around him, her fingers splayed across his back as she leant into him, relishing the short, teasing kisses he was bestowing upon her. He gently drew her closer and she rested her head on his arm as his mouth hovered over the skin of her neck. She closed her eyes and felt all the tension of the day seep from her as he placed a kiss on her neck, his nose nuzzling her hair. “Love you,” he murmured between a kiss, his lips skimming over her skin, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She wanted to say it back, she did, but the words somehow got stuck in her throat and then he was kissing her again, peppering her lips with tantalisingly soft kisses. “Spike,” she moaned against his lips and she heard him chuckle. He tightened his hold on her a moment later and then he was kissing her properly, his mouth slanting over hers as she pressed herself against, aching for his closeness. His fingers twisted in her hair as he tilted her head, changing the angle and deepening their kiss, his tongue darting out and teasing hers. So it was going to be like this. She should have guessed. After all the months of loneliness and the months before that filled with hurried intimacy, it only figured that Spike would want to take his time. And for once, she was okay with that. She let him set the pace, losing herself in his kisses, moving to lie on her back and wrapping one arm around him as he leaned over her. His mouth parted from hers only to drop to her neck, his tongue passing over her skin and causing her to let out a low moan. Her hands worked their way up to his head and she drew him back to her mouth, kissing him at the same unhurried pace, exploring his taste, relishing it. His hand slid down her side, moulding her closer to him as she leaned into him, her leg hooking over his. They parted for a moment and his eyes met hers, his expression flooded with emotion. She trailed her fingers over his temple and smiled, shifting away from him to wriggle out of her top. He came to her aid and threw her top to the floor, his eyes devouring her, his hand stroking over her bare stomach. She brought her hand back to his face once more, guiding his lips to hers once more. He kissed her harder then and she slid her own hands round to his back, tugging on his T-shirt and pulling it out of his jeans. He pulled away from her abruptly and drew the T-shirt over his head, throwing it to one side and settling over fully, his mouth finding hers again. Clutching his shoulders, she kissed him back hungrily, her body arching towards his, calling out to him. Parting from her – just as breathless as her – Spike slid his mouth to her neck, nipping at the skin gently and drawing her skin into his mouth. She let out a whimper and her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, urging him on. “Love you,” he almost growled, his mouth dropping lower, his tongue trailing over her collarbone. She squeezed her eyes shut and clung to him, hardly able to bear his sweet torture. “I missed this,” he murmured huskily, his hands running over her bare skin. “I missed you,” she breathed, drawing his mouth back to hers, unable to go without his kiss any longer. His hand slid down her front and found the zip to her trousers, deft fingers unzipping them as he kissed her passionately. She pushed him away abruptly and she saw him freeze for a moment, but then he was helping her to wriggle out of her trousers, his own following soon after. As he dumped his trousers on the floor, he turned back to her, his eyes burning with desire, boring into her. She settled on her back and beckoned him closer, one hand on the blanket. Like the stealthy predator he was, he stalked up her body and settled over her, watching her with a heated gaze as she pulled the blanket over them, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. “Please,” she whispered, “I want you.” Any hesitation she thought she might have sensed coming from him was gone and he kissed her again, his tongue delving inside her mouth as he positioned himself and then slid home. She let out a helpless moan as she finally felt him inside her and he pulled back to look at her, his blue eyes filled with wonder. “Please,” she begged breathlessly, urging him to move, “Make love to me.” His mouth found hers again but his kiss stayed surprisingly light as he began to move against her, more tender than he had ever been before. She arched her neck and he dived in there, his mouth suckling on her skin. “God, I missed you,” she moaned, her hands fastened in a tight grip around his biceps. His hand came to her chin and he guided her gaze back to his, his eyes locking with hers in a blaze of blue. She couldn’t look away after that, her eyes fixed on his, watching the different emotions that flooded them as he moved with her: awe, love, desire. “I need you,” she whispered, “Need this.” “Yeah?” he breathed, seeking reassurance. She nodded and leaned up to kiss him, her hand tangling in his hair. It couldn’t last long – not after all this time apart – but she didn’t want to end, wanted to stay locked in this moment forever. She had never felt this connection with anyone before, had never been this in the moment with the person she was with. But everything was different with Spike, now she had truly let him in. She couldn’t tear her eyes from his, couldn’t bear to look away and miss a second of his reaction to her closeness. His reaction fuelled hers and when he picked up the pace, she kissed him hungrily, her nails digging into his flesh again. She could feel her release building and she let out a strangled moan, clinging to him, desperate to prolong this moment. “Buffy,” he groaned, his movements growing jerky, wild, “God, Buffy.” He sank against her, his arms around her, his head buried against her neck as she pressed kisses to his temple, her fingers clawing at his back. “Spike,” she breathed, “Oh God. Oh God.” “I love you,” he groaned into her skin, jerking against her. “Love you. Love you,” she panted, her body seizing up and a strangled cry spilling from her lips, “Oh God.” Her body seemed to spasm for minutes, until finally it began to calm, although she could still feel her heart thundering in her chest. She let out a little moan and stroked her hand over the vampire’s hair, savouring this closeness too. He finally shifted, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at her. “Do you mean it?” he whispered, his voice strained. She swallowed hard and gave a jerky nod. “Yes,” she whispered, “I… I love you, Spike.” His expression softened into a look of awe much like the one she had witnessed when he had seen her alive again for the first time. “I love you,” she repeated, her voice thick with emotion, “And I should have told you a long time ago.” She saw him blink back tears but she could not stop her own. “I love you, William.” He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again, his eyes meeting hers, flooding her with warmth. “I love you, Buffy. Always.” She couldn’t hold back any longer and she leant up, pressing her lips to his tenderly as a tear traced down her cheek. For this moment, nothing mattered. Not the upcoming apocalypse, not the fear of losing the vampire she had finally learned to love, not the thought that everything she knew might be lost in the upcoming fight. All that mattered was that she was wrapped up in Spike’s arms. After everything they had been through, after everything they had put each other through, they had somehow found their way to this place, this time where they could finally be together properly. It turned out that all they needed, all along, was a little tenderness. THE END ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: If you thought that ending kinda of snuck upon you... join the club. It kinda surprised me too. :-) But it works, so... yeah... Hope you enjoyed!