Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all recognizable characters, locations, and dialogue belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the various writers. Show writers and any other quoted authors have been credited in individual chapters. I'm making no money from this—it is purely in the name of fun.

Betaed by Phuriedae and Science

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Chapter 73
Breathe



"Breathe."

Can’t.

"C'mon, luv," a voice says in my ear. "Breathe."

Strong hands stroke my sides, soothing and encouraging me at the same time.

My mouth works and my chest heaves but there's no air.

"Shhhh," says the voice, warm and rumbling and familiar. "I've got you. Spike's got you. Breathe for me, pet. Just got the wind knocked out of you is all. Breathe."

I gasp in a breath, then another, both shallow and ragged but oh, god, good. My throat feels torn, like I was gargling with glass. A relieved chuckle reverberates beneath me. It takes me a minute to teach my lungs how to work again, and even once I do they burn and don't seem to want to take in full lungfuls.

"Breathe," Spike whispers in my ear. "It's alright. I've got you. Just breathe for me, sweet girl. That's it. My brave, stupid Slayer. Breathe."

My whole body hurts, like someone just dropped me off a twenty-storey building. Which... if I'm remembering the last however many minutes right... yeah.

I open my eyes. The light is weird. Kinda dim and blueish and filtered. Wherever I am it's cold, and there's weight pressing loosely down on top of me. I'm lying on something hard and bony, too.

Spike.

He looks up at me, the right side of his face seared and blackened along the length of one sharp cheekbone and above his eyebrow. Blood trickles from his nose. But his eyes... his eyes are smiling and full of love and hope as he stares up at me.

"What happened? Did we win?" I ask.

"I think so," he says, laughing softly. I cough a couple of times, trying to make my voice sound less sand-papery. "Alright then?" he asks me.

"I don't appear to be a squished Buffy," I say, reaching up to touch the unburnt side of his face. "You?"

"Feelin' a bit flame broiled, but I can wiggle my toes, so... yeah," he says, smiling crookedly.

"Toe-wiggles are good?" I ask, loving the little crinkles around his eyes.

"Means nothing important got busted this time," he says, pushing the hair out of my face. Then he gets serious-face. "Thought I was gonna lose you for a mo' there, Slayer. Don't you ever, ever do something like that. Almost gave me a bleedin' heart attack."

"You have to have a heart beat to have a heart attack," I tell him.

"You know what I mean," he says, scowling at me.

"I know what you mean," I say, tracing the line of his jaw with one finger and listening to my heart rate slowing down now. "That was a really dumb thing you did, too, you know. Running out in the sun like that. I'm surprised you're not extra-crispy."

Spike shrugs but looks troubled. "Me too," he says. "But I'm not gonna complain."

"Where are we?" I ask.

"That bloody huge drift of snow along the side of the parking lot," Spike says. "If I aimed right. Little hard to judge when you're flying through the air, on fire, and trying to catch an angel before she falls." His voice is soft, and his eyes awed. Then they flash angrily. "And if you ever fuckin' try something that bloody stupid again, I swear to god I'll kill you myself, Slayer."

I laugh and press my forehead against his shoulder.

"I have a new-found respect for heights," I tell him. "Flying... totally overrated. I'd much rather walk. Besides, kinda lame up there. Everything I love is right here, on earth."

Spike takes my head between his hands and smiles up at me in this way that makes it totally impossible for me to not kiss him. Mmmmm...

When I draw back he's got this slightly goofy look on his face, then he laughs. "Know what?"

"Hmmm?"

"I changed my mind," he says, leering a little and curling his tongue in a way that reassures me that everything below waist level is working for both of us. "Turns out, I don't mind bein' beneath you after all."



***

Voices interrupt the kissage a few minutes later.

"Buffy?!"

"That would be Harris," Spike murmurs. "Keep quiet an' maybe he'll go away."

"Buffy?! Spike?"

Spike blinks at me, like he didn't expect Xander to be calling his name. I smile at him, press a quick kiss to his lips and yell back. "Down here!"

"Oh, thank god," someone says up above.

Then the snow on top of us is being shoveled away and hands are reaching down to help the two of us out of our snowy almost-grave.

Arms immediately wrap around me tightly. "Little bruised here, Xan," I say. "Not so hard."

"Oh!" he says, letting go slightly. Tear marks are tracking down his soot-smudged face. "Right. Oh, god. I thought..."

"Yeah," I say, a little shakily, now that I can look up and see how far I fell. "Me, too."

Giles is pulling Spike out of the snow. Thankfully we fell on the shadowed side of the hospital, so Spike is safe from the sun for one more day. He and Giles eye each other for a moment. Then Giles reaches out a hand. After a second, Spike clasps it. "Thank you," Giles says. "I was wrong to distrust you."

Spike nods. "I'd dust before I let anything happen to her," he says.

"I know," Giles says. "Thank you, Spike."

"Careful, Rupes, that stiff upper lip is lookin' a bit trembly there," Spike says, but it's not as snarky as usual. Then he eyes Giles warily. "You're not gonna cry on me, are you?"

"No," Giles says, straightening his shoulders and sniffing. "I should think not."

"Good," Spike says.

"Buffy!" Willow and Tara come running across the parking lot. "Oh, god, we saw you and... Oh!"

Willow flings herself on me, crying and holding me so tight I'm in danger of losing my breath again.

Then she tears herself off of me and wraps her arms around Spike. "And you!" she says, "with the sun and the... Oh. You saved her. Thank you, so much, Spike. Thank you." Spike's eyes are huge in his face, and I'd laugh at him if it weren't so totally sweet. Tentatively he wraps an arm around Willow and hugs her back.

"There, there," he says, patting her shoulder. "S'alright now, Red. Not gonna let anything happen to Buffy."

"Thank you," she says tearfully, then stretches up and kisses him straight on the mouth. "Cookies!" she exclaims suddenly. "I'll bake you cookies! Whatever kind you want."

"Uh," Spike says, and then Willow's hugging me again and Spike is staring at me, his hand at his mouth, looking so adorably confused and wigged out that I can't help but laugh this time.

Then Bear is barking and jumping around Spike, and Tara is hugging me and then Anya is hugging Giles for some reason and everything is pretty much all right.

Almost.

"Gee, hate to break up the festivities," Whistler says, sauntering up. "But there's one little piece of business that needs wrapped up." When we all just stare at him a little blankly, he groans. "Gotta spell it out for you guys every time, don't I? You did trap Louhi in that crystal, right?"

"Oh!" Tara says and reaches into her spell bag. She pulls out the crystal and shows it to us. Before it was just, you know, purpley. Now the inside of it is dark and shadowed, like there's something poisonous inside.

"We need to destroy that, before she figures out how to get out," Whistler says.

I glance around. Not far away I see the thing I need.

Olaf's hammer is half buried in a car roof, so I have to wrench it loose. Then I carry it back over to the group. "Put it on the ground," I tell Tara. She sets it down and the others step back to give me room. But I don't lift the hammer yet.

Instead I look at Spike. "Want to save the world?" I ask him. He looks at me, surprised.

"Thought that was really your gig, luv," he says. "’M just the hired help."

"Not any more," I say. "Equals, right? Besides, prophecy says no mortal hand, right? Well, you're not exactly mortal, are you? And... I figure you'd probably like a little revenge."

A grin flashes across Spike's face then. Oh, yeah. He's still got some evil in him. He steps up beside me and hoists the hammer, looking down at the crystal.

"For the last time," he says to it. "SOD OFF, BITCH!"

Then he smashes the hammer down and turns the crystal and its contents into nothing more than glittery dust.

A warm breeze gusts out of nowhere, picks up the dust and scatters it far and wide.

Louhi's gone.

"Well," Spike says, after the moment has been appreciated. "So... what do the good guys do after they finish saving the world?"

We all look at each other. Xander's propped up on one crutch, and it's covered in blood and gore. Anya's still holding a crossbow, and there's a cut on her head that's dripping blood into her eye. Lydia's pantsuit is torn and stained with something dark and icky, and Giles has a bruise forming along his jaw. Spike's got several gashes across his chest again, Bear is favoring one paw, and I'm feeling kind of limpy myself. Only Willow and Tara and Whistler seem unhurt.

The parking lot is a mess, there's demon corpses everywhere, stuck through with arrows. Wherever the sunlight has hit them, though, some of them have turned to stone, or ash. There are a couple of fires burning somewhere, and I really don't want to know what Xander blew up earlier. Sirens wail in the distance.

"Pizza?" I say.

"I can pick up some movies," Xander says.

"NOT Apocalypse Now," Willow tells him.

"What about Alive?" Spike asks.

"Isn't that the one where the people crash in the snow and end up eating their dead?" Anya asks.

"Yeah," Spike says. "So? It's thematically appropriate. Also, funny."

"He's still got a long way to go, doesn't he?" Tara says.



***

Much later, I'm lying on the couch, my head on Spike's shoulder, watching the credits roll.

"Buffy," Spike murmurs in my ear.

"Mmmm?"

"Explain to me why I just watched a movie that had singing and dancing puppets?"

"Because it was the only thing everyone agreed on," I say sleepily, burrowing under his arm.

"I didn't agree on it," he says.

"You were overruled," I say. "Good guys do these things democratically."

"Yeah, well, since we were the only two who managed to stay awake for the whole bloody thing, you'd think my vote would have counted more," he grumbles. I glance around at my friends, who are all curled up or sprawled out across my living room, snoring soundly. Spike's fingers trace patterns over my hands. "You ought to get some sleep, luv," he says after a while.

“Still kinda wired," I tell him. "Besides, this is nice, sitting here, with you. Me with the seeing, you with the talking. Nobody fighting or trying to kill each other. I am basking Buffy."

Spike chuckles softly. "Yeah," he says. "Have to remind myself sometimes that it's okay to talk when the lights are off."

"I like your voice," I tell him, feeling kinda blushy all of a sudden. "I've always liked your voice."

"That right?" Spike purrs. "Never gonna shut me up now, Slayer."

"Oh, I can think of a few ways to shut you up, Spike," I say, smiling smugly.

Weirdly, that's all it takes, because then he's quiet for a long time, just tracing my fingers with his. "Whatcha thinkin'?" I ask when I can't stand it any more.

"Just...uh, up there, on the roof," he says. "You... when Louhi was attacking us with the... I felt what you felt, what she was doing to you. And then..."

"Then I felt what she was doing to you," I say softly. "That's... what she did to you, while you were in her hell, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Spike says. "I didn't..."

"It's okay," I tell him. "I know. It's okay."

He gets quiet for too long again.

"So, what happens now?" he asks.

"Hmmm?"

"I mean, we did it, saved the world and all that... what happens now? Do I... go back to my crypt and you go back to your chums and we meet up in the graveyards and engage in verbal foreplay? Or..."

"Do you want to?" I ask, sitting up slightly.

"What?"

"Go back to your crypt?"

He frowns at me, "Uh... right now?"

"I mean... is... Do you want to stay there or..." Somewhere in the back of my head I hear Spike's mom, telling me that love means risking things. "It's just... I've got this big house and... with mom gone I'm kinda rattling around in here, but I don't want you to give up your crypt if you don't want to and... I kinda... we've been sleeping together every night for almost a year and I kinda..."

Spike's eyes are very dark in the dim light, as the last of the credits roll across the TV screen. Outside the sun is just starting to go down.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"I love you, and I know we did the ritual and all and ... but if you don't want to stay with me, I get it," I say.

"Slayer?" Spike says.

"Yeah?"

"You asking me to move in with you?"

"Maybe? Sorta? Yes?" I say.

"Oh," he says. "Good. 'Cause I was going to anyway, just... would've been a bit difficult trying to sneak ‘round without you knowing I was here most of the time."

I laugh.

"But first things first," he says. "If I'm sharing your bed, that New Kids on the Block poster has GOT to go."

***

A little while later, everyone is up, and we're standing around the kitchen, eating leftover pizza.

"You did good, kid," Whistler says, leaning against the counter beside me.

"Thanks," I say. "So does this mean you're off the hook with the PTB?"

"Not yet," he says, his voice low. "I'll be keeping tabs on you two to see how things go. Not much on the books prophecy-wise for a little while—and I think you've circumvented a couple that would've come about if things had gone a bit differently. Just... uh... keep an eye on your witchy friend there."

"Willow?"

Whistler hands me a card with a name and number on it. "Put that somewhere safe. You'll know if you need to use it," he says.

"Ooookay. Wanna vague it up some more?"

"Well, no sense getting you worried if it doesn't happen, right?" he says. "But better to be safe."

"I guess," I say, watching Willow and Tara smiling at each other and laughing. Still, I remember my dream from a few months back. Maybe there's something there that needs watching.

"Anyway," Whistler says. "I'd like to say it's been fun, but I think I got some Mara goo on my boots and that's gonna be a bitch to get out, you know. Not really used to being a front-lines sort of guy."

"You did pretty good," I say. "Glad we had your help."

"Right back atcha, dollface," he says. "I'll definitely be seeing you around. Maybe next time it won't even be for an apocalypse."

"We can only hope," I say.



***

Much later, after almost everyone has trickled home, Spike and Bear and I go for a walk. The sky is clear for the first time in weeks, and every star is out in the sky. The moon hangs full and bright above us. Spike's hand is still warm from being inside and the heat he's leeched off of me, and it feels nice, to be walking hand in hand.

Bear frisks ahead of us, all of his injuries cleared up, I guess. He's sniffing every gravestone in sight. The snow is starting to melt, and the wind is warmish when it blows around us.

"Never thought I'd have this," Spike says. "Have you."

"Sure you did," I say. "Isn't that the vampire motto? Want, take, have?"

"Most vampires don't want the sun," he says, turning me so my back is against a mausoleum. I let him. His eyes are so dark and the heat in them makes my heart beat hard in my chest. Spike traces a finger over the pulse in my throat. "Told you before, I'm addicted."

He leans in and kisses me, and god, it's as perfect as before, only now there's no hurry. It really does feel like we've got all the time in the world. Maybe we do?

Bear gives a little bark, then wiggles between us, planting his huge paws on Spike's shoulders and licking at his face.

"Oi! Off, you dumb mutt. I'm kissing my girl," he growls. Bear snarls playfully, then bounds around in the snow. Spike swipes at him, but Bear just grins, tongue lolling, then darts past him, barking. For a moment the two of them wrestle, enjoying the last of the snow. Then Bear somehow manages to pin Spike and starts licking his face in earnest. "Off! Dammit. Crap, Slayer! Get your dog off me!"

Bear jumps off of him, then rushes into the darkness as Spike climbs back to his feet, wiping his face. "Stupid dog," he says, but he's grinning.

Bear barks again, then trots around the corner of a gravestone.

Only this time he's not alone.

A shiver goes down my spine.

"Uh, Spike," I say. "Do you...?"

"Big kitty," Spike murmurs.

A golden mountain lion pads slowly beside Bear. They stop a few feet away, the cat blinking at us calmly. Bear sits beside it and grins. "It's got your eyes, Slayer," Spike murmurs. "Think this one's yours."

"Yeah," I say softly, remembering a trip in the desert that really wasn't as long ago as it feels. Then something else occurs to me. "I think it is, blondie bear."

Spike glares at me. Bear gets up and circles Spike once, twice, whoofing and rubbing his big head against Spike's hip so he can get scratched behind the ears.

"Thanks," Spike tells him, and his voice is a little rough. "This goodbye then?"

Bear moans, then shakes himself all over and grins. He pads over and nuzzles the mountain lion, which bristles for a moment with indignation, hisses, then head butts him and nuzzles him back. Spike laughs. "Yeah," he says after a minute. "She's yours."

"Bye, Bear," I say. "Thanks." Bear whoofs.

Then the two of them turn and take off into the darkness at a run that no normal animal could hope to match.

For a minute Spike and I stare after them. Then he looks at me.

"Think they've got the right idea," he says, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Huh?"

"Run," Spike says, grinning. He scoops up a bit of snow and flings it at me. I shriek and duck, and then we're off and running among the headstones, caught up in a game of strength and speed and skill that no one else could ever play.

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Author’s Postscript:

Only one more chapter and an epilogue to go… And I’ll probably post them back to back tomorrow.