“But I did love you then, only I didn't realize it because it was so strong, and I still do love you, even though I know I've probably blown my chance.” – Anonymous

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“It’s beautiful here. Peaceful.”

Spike didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. His voice was trapped in his throat.

He’d felt her as she drew near. But, when she’d stepped beyond the clearing and into his line of sight…

Like Arwen, she was wearing a flowing gown. Though no doubt borrowed, the design seemed made for her, its style somewhat reminiscent of his human days where the cut of one’s clothes hinted at the figure beneath. The blue-green color seemed the exact shade of her eyes when she was happy.

Overwhelmed with her presence, he was unable to move. Just basked in the glow that was the slayer.

Though this was the second – well, technically third – time he’d seen her in the light of day, the moment was no less powerful. He figured it would be a while yet before he’d be used to seeing her like this. The late afternoon sun breaking in random patterns through the trees and casting an ethereal glow about her head. Hitting her hair and bringing out the lighter shades of blonde.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she began hesitantly when he just stared at her. “I just…I should go…” she began, and turned to walk away.

He was by her side in an instant, his hand locked loosely around her wrist to hold her in place.

“No…stay,” he whispered softly. There was no way in hell he’d give up her company before he had to. He led her to the rock that Arwen had vacated earlier, gesturing for the slayer to sit. He smiled slightly as she tried to figure out how to maneuver her skirts to make that happen. A moment later, he sat on the rock adjacent to her.

Buffy glanced down as she fidgeted with her hands. Her eyes unable to hold his penetrating gaze as he sat and looked over at her. It was like that night – the look he gifted her with right before he’d bitten into her neck. Love so deep it practically consumed him. Only…

She knew that it wasn’t. That his heart now belonged to another. Part of her was angry. Angry at him for having such shallow feelings that it had only taken him a few months to get over her and fall in love with someone else. Most of that was her jealousy talking. Because after the sacrifice he’d made, his happiness was the one thing she didn’t begrudge him.

No matter how much it killed her.

It’s just that seeing that look now…only managed to twist the knife. Especially when she’d been so sure, so confident, in his love for her.

She pushed through the tears that threatened to form at the thought and finally tore her eyes away from her hands to look at him, determined to let him be happy with the elven girl. Now if she could only convince herself that she really meant it.

“I’m sorry about Xander,” she blurted out, surprising even herself at the subject change. “He’s got issues.”

Spike blinked, his face a mask of confusion. Did she just say he had issues? Not exactly what he’d expected to hear.

“Uhhh…”

“It’s just this thing…his friend Jesse got vamped and he had to stake him. Didn’t exactly endear him to your kind,” she rambled on. “Turned into this whole thing…then there was Angel.”

Spike rolled his eyes. Now they were back on familiar territory. Always had to have the bloody poofter intrude.

“Only that ended,” she continued her story. “But then you had to go and…well…you know…and he couldn’t see that you’d done it for me… and…”

“Slayer, do you honestly think I give two bits what the whelp thinks about me?”

“Ummm… no?” she answered. She stood up and began to pace. That their behavior mimicked the other’s never dawned on them. For once it was the slayer with the restless energy while Spike looked on, unmoving. “I’m just trying to show you where he’s coming from…why he can’t…they can’t…”

She stopped and stared at him.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t want their thanks. Don’t need it. Didn’t do it for them—”

“No…I…” She took a hesitant step forward. “Thank you. For what you did. For me…and Dawnie.”

Spike finally stood and walked over to her, the delicate material of the tunic and pants fluttering slightly as he moved. They were nearly toe-to-toe when he drew to a halt. His hand lifted automatically to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Couldn’t very well let you jump now, could I?”

The gentle caress of his voice washed over her, eliciting a shiver. Or, it could have been the brush of his fingertips against her cheek. Either way, her eyes unconsciously closed, her head tilting back for the kiss he was about to bestow.

‘Just one. Then I’ll let him go,’ she mentally told herself.

Spike stared at her upturned face and could no more prevent himself from kissing her than he could turn back time. His hand moved from where it had tucked her hair behind her ear to the back of her neck, applying slight pressure to angle her closer. His lips settled over hers, brushing softly against their surface. She moaned and he felt it…deep inside. Felt the answering call rumble in the back of his throat. At the tentative touch of her hands upon his chest, he was lost. Dragging her close and devouring her mouth, his tongue boldly taking possession. Desperate to claim some small piece of her.

His mind didn’t register her tight grip on his shirt, how she clamored to get closer.

Surrendering herself to his kiss.

Just as it seemed to dawn on him, she tore herself away, putting a foot or so between them.

It felt like a mile.

“I’m sorry…I-I…got to go…”

“Buffy!”

“No…don’t…I promised myself…I-I gotta go.”

She turned and started to run away. Before the tears fell. While she berated herself for being too late.

Only Spike was faster.

Man, was he faster.

He’d caught her before she’d barely run ten steps. His hands closing about her and stopping her flight out of the clearing.

“Buffy?” he began, clearly confused by her attitude.

“Please, Spike…let me go,” she whispered pitifully, her head bowed as she stood with her back to him. It wasn’t fair. How could he kiss her like that when his heart belonged to another?

“I can’t.”

The tears started then. To be so close to what she wanted – could have had if she’d listened to her heart and not the biased opinions of those around her – only to have it ripped away…

Her body shook as he drew her back against his chest.

“You have to,” she told him through her tears. “I can’t…I can’t be that girl. Don’t make me be that girl. Go back to Arwen…”

Spike turned the slayer in his arms and looked down at her tear-streaked face. “What does Arwen have to do with anything?” he asked, clearly confused.

Buffy couldn’t meet his eyes. “I saw you…when you got here.”

“Yeah…so?”

It was the way he said “so” that made her finally lift her gaze. His head was cocked to the side, and he was looking at her like he didn’t have the foggiest idea what she was talking about. It went a long way towards stemming the flow of tears.

“I saw you…and her,” she accused. “Together.”

“Well, yeah. I’d not seen her for nearly twenty years—”

“What? Wait! Twenty years?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Just how long have you been here?”

“Damn near eighty years. ‘Bout blew me over with a feather when I saw you sit down just as calm as you please at the Council meeting. Thought you were a bleedin’ angel. A figment of my imagination…Why?”

“That explains it!”

“Explains what?”

“Why you speak their language…how you seem to fit in…it’s like you live here or something.”

“I do live here. Well, I call Rivendell my home. I…we…try to get back as often as we can. Haven’t been able to do that as much with the increasing orc uprisings. But, now that the One ring has been found, we’ve a chance to end it all. With the ring destroyed, so too will Sauron finally be destroyed.”

“Then you and Arwen can be together,” Buffy concluded.

“What’s this about me and Arwen?”

“You love her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do—” he began.

“See,” she accused.

“…she’s my bloody sister.”

“Sister?”

“Well, she will be once she marries Aragorn.”

“Marries Aragorn?”

“Yes, Aragorn. My brother,” he told her patiently.

“Brother?”

“Did a bloody parrot take up residence in your mouth of a sudden? Yes, my brother.”

“And you love Arwen, but aren’t in love with her,” Buffy added as she rationalized out in her head everything he’d just told her.

“Didn’ I jus’ say that? Look…can we go back and sit down? I’ll try and clear things up for you if I can.”

Buffy smiled, placing her hand in his and letting him lead her back to the rocks. She stopped abruptly, forcing Spike to stop as well.

“What is it, pet?” he asked as he glanced over his shoulder.

“Can we…that is…I never got to see Rivendell. Can you show me?”

He smiled then, his features appearing younger, more carefree.

“Come on,” he urged, tugging her hand and forcing her to run behind him.

“Where are we going?” she cried out as she struggled to keep up. Didn’t he realize how hard it was to run in a dress?

They raced along the track until they’d gotten back to the cobblestone paths that led to the various dwellings in the city. He veered left and she followed. Soon they stopped before a huge building with double doors – the stables. As they stepped inside, a young elf looked up from his duties, smiling and extending a greeting to the vampire in elvish. Spike said something back, waved and then moved off.

Buffy trailed behind him until he stopped before a stall near the end of the aisle. She watched as he curled his lip and gave a shrill whistle. A moment later, a huge horse stepped in through the door and walked over towards them. He – Buffy could only assume it was a he given how big and fierce it looked – didn’t stop until his chest brushed against the door, his head slipping over the top of the gate to nuzzle Spike’s face.

“This is Sherelof,” he told Buffy, rubbing his stallion’s nose affectionately. Spike motioned the slayer to his side then opened the gate allowing the horse to step out of his stall. He quickly gained the stallion’s back and held out his hand to Buffy.

“Uhh…don’t you need like those lines…I mean reins? Don’t you need reins? And a saddle?” she asked.

He leaned over, his hand still outstretched. “Do you trust me?”

Her eyes went from his hand to the horse’s head and back again, before she raised her eyes to him. She didn’t answer, but raised her hand so that she could be lifted in front of him.

Holding her close against his chest, sideways across his lap, Spike applied slight pressure to Sherelof’s flanks. The horse cantered out of the stable and veered right and away from the city, eager to have his head and stretch his legs.

Buffy let out a slight eep as the horse went from stationary to near gallop in the space of a few strides. Her grip tightened around Spike’s back and she closed her eyes as the scenery passed her by. Later, once she realized that she wasn’t going to fall, she opened her eyes and gasped at what she saw.

He’d taken to the paths leading up the mountains so that they could look down on the city of Rivendell. By some unspoken command, Spike slowed his horse and they meandered along the path. Occasionally, he’d gesture to a flower or two, nearly unseating them at one point as he leaned over to snag one and slip it behind her ear.

It was an idyllic time for Buffy, her ride around the city. Held in the arms of her vampire, the one that had sacrificed himself for her. That seemed to love her still. For this short period of time, she allowed herself to relax. To just be a girl, out on a date with her man.

She wasn’t sure how long they were gone. But whatever it was, it was too short. As the sun started to dip in the sky, Spike guided his horse back towards the city. His arms unconsciously tightening about her waist as if he, too, dreaded to return.

Once he’d seen to Sherelof, they walked hand in hand out of the stables and back towards Elrond’s house. Both needed to rest before they embarked upon their journey to Mordor in the morning. Still, as the pair drew to a halt outside her door, neither wanted to say goodbye. As if both were worried that the tentative breakthrough they’d had in their relationship would disappear.

Buffy turned around, not surprised to see Spike standing so close to her. She took a step and slipped her arms around his back, laying her head against his shoulder.

“I don’t want to go inside,” she mumbled into his neck.

“I know, luv. But, it’s no easy road to Mordor, and much of it will be spent walking.”

“I know, but…stay with me tonight?” She lifted her head to look into his face. “Could you just…hold me? I’m afraid if I let you out of my sight, I’ll wake up and it’ll all be just a dream. Make it not be a dream,” she pleaded.

“Buffy…”

His head lowered and captured her lips, trying to reassure her as best he could that he was here to stay. That he’d never let her go. His mouth left hers to trail down her neck until he’d reached the marks he’d given her. Blunt teeth nipped at the scars, and he hated himself for wanting to give her another set of marks. Ones that would never fade, as these no doubt would with time.

Forcing that thought away, he reached for the doorknob and opened the door, steering the slayer back into her room.

“Go get changed, luv.”

“You’ll be here when I return?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice. There was no way he was leaving this room before tomorrow morning – he didn’t care who he’d have to fight to make it so. His girl wanted to be held, and that’s what he was going to do.

When Buffy came back, he’d already removed his clothes and slipped beneath the sheets. He wasn’t one for pajamas, and he damn sure wasn’t sleeping in his clothes. Spike just prayed she didn’t notice as she extinguished the candles and slipped in bed beside him.