“Should have known it'd be you.  Been nearly six hours.”

“Well, it would've been less if I wasn't busy cleaning up your mess.”

In a whirlwind of fury, Buffy entered and moved within ten feet of the clearly annoyed vamp standing before her.

“My mess?  I just borrowed the doc.  The mess is yours, Slayer.  Yours and the boy's.”  With evident disdain, Spike eyed Buffy as one side of his mouth curled into a scowl.

“I'm done.”  Buffy skillfully unsheathed her stake and advanced toward him, her target his century-long stilled heart.  She watched Spike’s eyes widen briefly before the look of pure loathing returned.

“Spike, you're a killer.  And I shoulda done this years ago.”  Buffy heard the strong determination in her voice, but it didn’t quite match her feelings inside.

“You know what?  Do it.  Bloody just do it.”

“What?”  Buffy’s voice trembled slightly, his unexpected response throwing her off kilter.

“End—my—torment.  Seeing you every day, everywhere I go, every time I turn around.  Take me out of a world—that has you in it!  Just kill me!”  Boldly, Spike stepped forward, lifting his chin in defiance and puffing out his chest, offering her a clear target.

Even with confusion reigning, instinctually, Buffy lunged forward.  When Spike winced and reflexively recoiled slightly, her hand stilled, poised in mid-strike.

Buffy searched his eyes.  Despite his outward bravado, they told a completely different story.  He was truly scared and confused.  In fact, his emotions pretty much ran the gamut at the moment, as did hers.
 
His standing there so vulnerable, changed her desire to destroy him into another undeniable desire.
 
Suddenly, Spike grabbed Buffy by her upper arms.  His gaze darted quickly over her features before pulling her closer and kissing her passionately.  His mouth swallowed her heady mewls as she returned his kiss with equal fervor.
  
They savored one another, until the reasons of why she was truly there finally broke through the wall of hazy lust and caused her to pull away.  She stepped back, her shocked gasp spilling around her hand now covering her mouth.

Their eyes locked in confused, wide-eyed stares, while their panting drowned out the clatter of her stake hitting the floor.

Buffy’s fingers lingered on her tingling lips momentarily then fell away as her hand lowered.  With determination, she approached Spike.  Placing both of her hands to the back of his head, she drew him into another fierce kiss.
 
Responsively, his arms encircled her, clutching her closer while their mouths fought for dominance.  Spike’s lips then broke from hers, moved to her cheek and jaw spreading kisses there, before descending her proffered neck.  Her ever increasing mewls voiced her approval of his passionate nips and kisses.

“I—so—hate you!” Buffy gasped while Spike teased her sensitive pulse point with blunt teeth.

“The feeling’s mutual—Slayer!”  Spike’s mouth returned to hers, his tongue sweeping inside to savor her unique flavor—chocolate mixed with unbridled passion—a deadly combination.

Their hands impatiently explored one another, never settling in one place for long.  Breaking contact with his lips momentarily, Buffy leapt up and nimbly wrapped her legs around his waist.
 
Spike, not missing a beat, cradled his hands under her ass and squeezed playfully.  His eager mouth returning to hers muffled her squealed response.
 
Within four lengthy strides, he carried his precious bundle over to the sarcophagus; all the while they remained lip-locked.  After gently placing her on top, he slid her into position at the very edge.  Then his hands moved from the luscious globes of her bottom to weave into her golden hair.  Spike settled between her thighs, rocking his hips rhythmically with his tongue thrusting into her mouth.
 
With his hardness rubbing the rigid fabric of her jeans tediously against her clit, Buffy explored the planes of his back with eager grasps and sweeps of her hands.  As she felt his muscles bunching under her touch, she could feel the deep burning within building to a fevering pitch.
 
Their kisses were fervent and untamed.  She had never kissed another this way.  She’d always held back.  With Angel, it was inexperience.  With Parker and Riley, it was because they were human.  However, with Spike she didn’t need to hold back.  For the first time, she’d met her equal.
 
This epiphany hit her like a bucket of ice water.  She stopped moving, and her body went rigid.      
 
Spike seemed to instantly notice this change in her.  His hands left her hair and cupped her face gently, as his gaze met hers.
 
“Second thoughts, luv?”
 
“Yes, well, no.  No second thoughts.  Actually, you need a first thought before you can have a second.  And all these mind-melting kisses, so not helping with that.”
 
“Well, I always found thinking to be far overrated myself.  Care to join me back in the world of blissful mindlessness?”  Spike leaned forward, his lips seeking hers.  Right before they landed, Buffy placed her hands on his chest, keeping him at bay.
 
“Mmm—very tempting, but don’t you think we should talk first?” 

Buffy wanted to dive head first into mindlessness with him, but the adult-like notion of trying to do this right and getting what needed to be said out there, held her back.
 
“Right, talk.”  With a huff, Spike moved from his spot between her thighs and extracted himself from her embrace.  He stepped back just out of arm’s reach.
 
“Are you—mad?” Buffy tried to mask the worry lacing her voice but she knew deep down she failed miserably. 

It was amazing how fast things changed.  A week ago, she wouldn’t have cared if she upset him.  Now, the fact that she might have screwed things up royally, really bothered her. 

“Oh no, luv.  Horny as hell and dying to be back over there touching you, but not mad.  Need some distance to think ‘s all.”

Spike lifted his hand to touch her face, but it fell away before making contact.  Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair and headed over to his coat, searching the pockets for his cigarettes.  When he came up empty-handed, he started pacing.
 
Buffy was grateful he wasn’t mad, but her anxiousness lingered as the silence between them grew to an almost oppressive level.  Getting slightly dizzy watching him, Buffy’s gaze lowered and focused on her sweater while her fingers toyed with the fabric.  Every time she tried to speak, the words stilled in her throat, and her mouth snapped shut.
 
“I never wanted anyone, especially you, to see me like that.”  Spike’s voice was low, almost a mere whisper.
 
Buffy looked up and searched for Spike.  She found him standing off in the shadows of his crypt, only his outline visible to her in the dim light.
 
“William or the demon?”  Despite being unable to see him clearly, her gaze remained fixed on where his voice resonated.
 
“Truth be told, William.  One hundred and twenty years I tried to bury the ponce, only for him to be brought back to living color by some wonky spell.  In front of the Slayer, no less.”
 
Buffy could almost hear—was that embarrassment lacing Spike’s voice?
 
“I don’t get it.  William was so sweet.  Yeah, a little hard to understand sometimes, but he was nothing but polite and helpful and—ah, no wonder you didn’t want me to meet him.”
 
“Even shortly after I was turned, William was still a joke.  But at that point, I had a choice to remain who I was or change.  I chose change.  I wasn’t gonna be anyone’s punch-line any longer.  Gone went the stuffy clothing and speech.  No longer was I afraid of my own shadow or giving a rot what others thought of me.  Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I was reborn—I became Spike.”
 
On his last word, he emerged from the shadows wearing the face of his demon.  With hesitant steps, he approached Buffy.  Stopping within hairsbreadth of her, he regarded her with golden eyes.
 
Buffy tentatively raised her hand and with gentle sweeps, she explored his face.  Even with his eyes falling closed and his prominent demonic ridges, she believed he wore a look of pure bliss.
 
Then stilling her hand, Buffy closed the distance between them and tenderly placed a lingering chaste kiss to his lips.  All too soon she ended the kiss, pulled away, and regarded Spike.  His demon façade had melted away, leaving only William and his striking blues behind.
 
Needing to regain her composure and to not jump the totally sexy blond staring at her, Buffy leaned back against the sarcophagus, relying on the solidness of the stone to keep her grounded.
 
Trying to take her mind off her burning insides, Buffy tapped into all the thoughts plaguing her since she realized William and the demon were both actually Spike.
 
“See, I’m more of an action kinda gal.  I’m not really used to talking about my feelings or being one for self-actualization.  But despite all that, I really think you and I are a lot alike.”
 
“Huh, didn’t know you were so deep, Slayer.”  Spike’s trademark smirk teased his full and tempting lips.
 
“Well, Spike, I is a college student.  Besides partying, deep is in.”  Buffy mirrored his grin.
 
“That you is, kitten.  So tell me how you figure we’re alike?  Well, besides us both being natural blonds?”  Spike reached out and wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger, tugging it teasingly.
 
“You’re such an ass. You know that?  Here I am trying to talk with you, and then you go and be all Spike-ish!”  Bristling, Buffy tried to push past him, but Spike held his ground.  He placed his hands on her waist, stilling her.  Despite her silence, her gaze held pure daggers.
 
“Baby, ‘m sorry.  I’m a bad, rude man who should be punished—severely.”  Spike tucked his talented tongue behind his pearly whites, his brows wagged suggestively.
 
Trying to hold her ground, she crossed her arms defiantly and gave him a classic Buffy eye roll.
 
“Yeah, you’re right.  You are rude, and I should punish you.  Ah—I got it.  The punishment for your fresh mouth is I’m banning you from mine.  No more kisses for you.”
 
She held back her laughter when she watched his bottom lip turn down into a pout.
 
His is almost better than mine.  Almost, but not quite.
 
She turned her head away from him in a faux shunning, her resolve firm. Unexpectedly, she felt his grip on her hips shifting then his cool breath on the column of her throat.
 
Her eyes fluttered close from the lightest brush of his lips on her skin.  He scaled her throat, and once he reached the shell of her ear, his deep baritone voice triggered her to instantly shiver with lust.
 
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”  Following his blunt teeth gently tugging on her ear lobe, his mouth returned to his tedious trek.
 
“Please—” Grasping his biceps, Buffy tried not to give in, but she was helpless to his form of persuasion.
 
“Mmm—please what?  This?”  She cried out when his teeth clasped onto the juncture between her throat and shoulder.
 
“More—”
 
Buffy pleaded for more, but for what she couldn’t say.  His mouth back on her throat had completely blanked out her mind, and all she could do was feel.
 
“You want more—talking?”
 
With that he was gone, and she almost fell forward from the lack of his body supporting her.  It took several moments for her mind to catch up that he was no longer there making her body sing.
 
“Huh?” Buffy slowly opened her eyes to see where he was.  She found him sitting on the arm of his chair, wearing a smug Cheshire grin.
 
“You’re evil.  You know that?”  She tried to bring her raging hormones under control, and it took all of her power not to go over there and continue where they’d left off.
 
“Very and don’t you forget it.  Now, how are we two sides of the same coin?”
 
Buffy thought he was teasing her again, but when she recognized the serious tone, she followed suit.
 
“Two sides…” Her brow scrunched slightly with confusion.
 
“Alike, luv.  How are we alike?”
 
“Oh yeah.  Well, we are a lot alike, actually more than I care to admit.  See, we both have these other, I guess you can call them alter egos, inside us.  They give us things, like strength, power, and a bunch of other superhero perks.  But at the same time they take things away.  Like you not being big with the sunshine or me having a normal life.”  With the last few words, Buffy’s voice had lowered to a faint whisper.
 
Before the first tear could escape, Spike’s arms were wrapped around her, holding her in a comforting embrace.  With her head on his chest and arms encircling his waist, she relished in their closeness.
 
“Sweetheart, I have it on good authority that normal is way overrated.”  He placed a soft kiss to the crown of her head.
 
“Like thoughts?” Buffy sniffled, her voice slightly muffled from her face buried in his chest.
 
“Yeah, like thoughts.”
 
Spike held her close, until she felt a part of him demandingly pressing against her stomach.  Buffy looked up at him and raised her brows in question.
 
“What?  You expect him to behave all proper like with a warm, beautiful woman in my arms?  Hardly.”
 
Pressing a kiss to his chest, she reluctantly pulled from his arms, and hoping to lessen the temptation, moved away.  She brushed away residual wetness from her cheeks, and with a cleansing breath continued.
 
“Okay, where was I?  Oh yeah, so that’s one way we are alike.  Another more important way, is that even though we have these alter egos, they don’t make us, well—us.  At first when I learned I was all chosen, I hated it, and at times I still do.  But during the chrysanthemum, when I lost all my powers, it was totally awful.  And that’s not even counting the mom-stealing, crazy vamp they trapped me in the house with.”
 
“It’s Cruciamentum, luv.  And yeah, before you ask, I’ve heard of it.  Nearly read every Watcher diary Rupert had.  And no, we are not going to discuss that.”
 
“Well, you were really cute.  In a Watcher Jr. sorta way—” She smiled coyly.
 
“Yeah, well, get on with our similarities, or I might forget my manners and ravish you right now, talking be damned.” 
 
Unlike the threat it was meant to be, Buffy’s mind went straight to a very naughty place.  Then with a deep breath, she tamped down the lusties.
 
“So even though I might act like slaying’s a burden, it’s a part of me that I wouldn’t give up.  Don’t get me wrong, I’d defiantly give up how rough it is on my wardrobe, and the hours really suck, but otherwise, no.  Even though I’m the Slayer, that’s not all of me.  I’m Buffy too.  Just plain ol’ Buffy.  I like shopping, figure skating, and hanging with my friends.  Sometimes I think everyone forgets that.  Well, everyone except you, Spike.  You, more than anyone else, know that even though there are different parts of you, one part doesn’t determine who you are.  I’m both the Slayer and Buffy.  And you’re William, the demon, and Spike all rolled up in a bleached-blond package.”
 
Even though Buffy’s eyes shone with unshed tears, she hoped her soft smile expressed she wasn’t upset.  Actually, she was far from it.  For once in her life she felt free.  Free from other’s misconceptions and judgmental opinions. 

It wasn’t easy putting her feelings into words, but she was so glad she had.  For the first time in her young life, the heavy weight usually residing on her shoulders was now suddenly gone. 
 
This time when Spike swept her into his arms, she had no intention of leaving.  The feelings and thoughts she needed to get out were finally spoken.  Now, all she wanted was to show him all that she hadn’t put into words.
 
When his mouth met hers, the passion behind his kiss proved to her he understood everything with perfect clarity.  For the first time, she was going to share herself with someone who truly accepted her—All of her. 
          
 
 
 

 
 Author’s Notes:

I would greatly appreciate but a moment of your time to relay what you thought about this chapter.  Please?  See, I'm not too proud to beg. ;)
 
Some of the dialogue came directly from the episode “Out of My Mind” written by Rebecca Rand Kirshner.