A/N: I know this is a pretty long chapter, but I hope you guys will be alright with that! Something to sink your teeth into, for all those bitey fanatix out there. ;) Thanks for reading! :)

¤

October

¤

She was eager as they neared the exit doors which would bring them into LAX. Time slowed as she stepped into the arrival hall, her pulse was pounding heavily, her palms grew sweaty, and then she saw him. He was smiling and time sped up to its normal pace as she approached him. Her eyes went to Angel, who was smiling as well.

“Hi,” he said, embracing her and kissing her on the cheek.

“Hi,” she smiled.

Willow took her place in Angel’s arms as Buffy turned to Spike.

“Hi,” he greeted, and she kept the smile on as she moved close to him, hugging him tight.

“Hi,” she murmured.

They stepped apart, growing aware of the fact that this time they weren’t alone. Glancing at each other they both smiled self-consciously.

“It’s good to see you... both,” Buffy stated, Spike’s smile widening just a tad.

¤

“You’ve got a great place,” Willow commented later that evening.

“It’s small, but greater than some,” he agreed. “Glad you like it.”

“Happy to oblige. Thanks for the lending of space, much appreciated.”

“Don’t even mention it, Red.”

She smiled. Looking at Buffy she then yawned.

“I’m heading to bed,” the Wicca said, getting to her feet off the couch. “You two... feel free.”

Spike furrowed his brow, watching her as she left the living room for the hall leading to the bathroom, guestroom and his bedroom. Once she was behind the closed door of the first mentioned, he turned a narrowed gaze to Buffy.

“Did you tell her?”

“About what?” Buffy asked.

“Don’t even bloody try it, Buffy. You told her, didn’t you?”

“I’m a girl! Girls talk to their friends!”

“You’re a woman,” he corrected. “And I thought you wanted to keep this... private.”

“It is private.”

“Willow’s the only one who knows?”

“Yes. And Dawn.”

“You told the Bit?!”

“Yes! She’s not a Bit anymore! She’s... a Mouthful, at least.”

“And no one else?”

“No,” she answered firmly. “Though I have to say, I got the feeling Jackie suspected something was up when I was there. I mean, not with you, but...”

He stared at her, then suddenly laughed.

“What?” she asked, perplexed. When he didn’t stop she had to giggle. “What?!”

He calmed enough to reach a hand out, placing it behind her neck and pulling her face to his before he answered:

“Never mind.”

¤

“What I can’t believe is that you’re giving this place up,” Buffy stated the following evening, reaching for another slice of pizza.

The conference room table of Angel Investigations was littered with pizza boxes, half-finished sodas and napkins.

“We’re ready to let go,” Angel said, meeting Isabel’s gaze. “Won’t say it’ll be easy, but we both feel it’s time.”

“Broaden our horizons,” Isabel nodded.

“And it’ll be in good hands,” Angel assured.

“Who’s taking over?” Giles inquired.

“The Henna branch,” Angel answered. “They have their headquarters only a few blocks from here. I know they’ll respect the work we’ve done so far and keep up the same quality. Though I personally believe it’d be a smoother transition if someone with no prior obligations would consider staying for a few months.”

“Six,” Spike corrected. “Six months. And why should I stay, if you don’t have to? I don’t have broader horizons than either of you. There are places I still wanna see.”

“Yes, but you won’t see any new places in England. Stay here! Six months, come on, it’s nothing.”

Buffy’s eyes snapped to Spike’s face, her heart suddenly running away with every possible sense of practicality or acting with controlled coolness.

“England?” she asked and he met her gaze. “You’re... what? You’re moving to England?”

“I have lived there for a while before,” he said.

She couldn’t believe it. Her brain was malfunctioning. Why would he be moving to England?

“Why England?” she wondered, her tongue feeling sluggish in forming the words.

Willow casually pushed a can of soda closer to her, but Buffy barely registered it.

“I know I’ve been away for a bit,” he said. “But I’m still British at heart.”

“But it rains,” she remarked. “All the time.”

“Not all the time,” Giles defended.

“Pretty much,” Willow muttered under her breath.

“I know a few things to do when it rains,” Spike replied to Buffy’s statement, his eyes still in hers and she smiled briefly, taking her gaze out of his and noticing the soda can.

Grabbing it, she brought it to her lips and drank a deep gulp.

“Cheers to that, then,” Giles said, clinking the neck of his beer bottle with Spike’s. “I’ll make a list of things not to do while visiting at my house, for future reference.”

Spike smirked, his eyes going to Buffy’s again and she had the most overpowering notion that England was for her sake. That he was moving to be closer to her.

I have to tell him, she thought for the thousandth time. I’ll just tell him. No big deal.

¤

Only it was a big deal.

The last time she had told him he hadn’t believed her.

Things are slightly different, she insisted, trying to further her resolve by continuing pep-talk. Very different. Completely different from that year. From that time. It feels like we’re not even in the same world anymore. So you’ll tell him and he’ll smile and love you back, just like he did then.

She drew a slow breath.

But... everything’s completely different, she grumbled.

Except you, she added, meeting her gaze in the bathroom mirror. You’re still an idiot. He’s moving to England, for crying out loud!

So? I don’t live-live there. He was born there. Whatever ties he had to Los Angeles are loosening, but England is his home country. He’s not moving there for me. He’s not.

She began brushing her hair.

Still have to tell him, though. For my own sanity’s sake.

But what if he says it’s no use and it ruins the party? I couldn’t have that.

So I’ll tell him after.

Yes, she decided, putting the brush down. I’ll tell him after the party.

¤

The following evening she stood in front of an old full-figure mirror which hung on the wall of his bedroom. Why he even had it was lost on her, but now she was reaping the benefits as she held one cocktail dress in either hand. He sauntered in through the open door, halting at the sight of her.

“Oh, hi,” she smiled. “Maybe you can help me settle this,” she added, bringing the black dress in front of her, and then the dark green. “Which one?”

She wasn’t wearing anything but panties and a bra and the look on his face made her aware of it, her smile growing. He approached her.

“Personally,” he said, gently grabbing both dresses from her and throwing them on the bed before stepping into her. “I like you just the way you are.”

She closed her eyes as he kissed her, his hands sliding down her back and beneath the hem of her panties and over her ass, making her breathing slow in mounting fervor.

“Is Willow here?” he murmured and when she shook her head he kicked the door shut before lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist.

¤

“I’m going out!” Willow yelled the following night.

“Where?” Buffy asked, coming into the hall from the kitchen.

“Dinner with Isabel. Have you heard from Xander?”

“No.”

“You shouldn’t ‘ve put it off for so long.”

“I knew how he’d react. You’d think he’d see it as a birthday party, but just because it happens to be for Spike he has to go all argh about it.”

“He’ll come around, don’t worry,” Willow said.

“I shouldn’t ‘ve put it off for so long,” Buffy sighed.

Willow smiled comfortingly.

“Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t show,” she offered. “Oh, and so you know, I’m sleeping at Angel’s tonight.”

“What?” Buffy asked.

“Don’t act all disappointed,” Willow smirked.

“Do they have room? Won’t they wonder why?”

“Isabel’s taking me to a restaurant that’s close to their place and she was the one who said it’d be better if I stayed with them so, it’s all clear.” Buffy had to smile at her friend’s support. “Have fun!”

The Slayer closed the door behind her and looked at the empty apartment.

Spike would be back in an hour, he had gone to the butcher’s for blood.

She contemplated what to do next; then smirked and hurried back into the kitchen.

¤

She heard the key in the door and shook the match in her hand, the candle she had put it against only barely having time to catch the flame. Then she threw herself on the couch, getting into an as alluring position as she could. The door closed.

“Buffy?” his voice sounded.

“In here.”

He came into the room with something of an amazed expression. Desire soon streaked it and she smiled, mighty pleased.

“Hey, stranger,” she said, slowly sitting up.

“You’re naked,” he murmured, the bag containing his dinner being placed on a nearby chair, though his eyes didn’t leave her form.

She stood.

“By popular demand,” she smiled.

She indulged in the way he took her in, how she could feel his being reaching for hers. He needed her and wanted her and there was not a second that she wouldn’t soak it up. The candlelight sent soft shadows chasing around the room as she moved to stand before him.

“Willow?” he asked, his voice faint as her hands slid over his chest, under the jacket he was wearing, pushing it off his shoulders.

“Went away,” she replied, her fingers unbuttoning his shirt. “But I’m here,” she added, getting to work on his pants.

“Buffy,” he mumbled, her lips connecting with the cool skin of his chest.

¤

“I’m taking you out to dinner tomorrow night,” she declared.

They were in his bed, both pleasantly enjoying the afterglow of the afterglow of the afterglow. The hand stroking her shoulder slowed and she turned her head to look up at him.

“Wear something nice,” she smiled.

“What time?” he wondered.

“Nine.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling a little.

She returned it, burying her nose against the side of his neck and breathing him in.

“Mmh,” she sighed. “You smell good.”

“So do you,” he said, kissing her earlobe and sending soft shivers through her.

¤

“Okay,” Buffy said, checking off the last thing on her list as she turned her head to Willow. “Everything’s ready. Everything’s ready, right?”

“Tables are set, liquor is bought, streamer is up. We’re good to go,” Willow promised, studying Buffy before saying: “I’m glad you’re doing this for him. In case I hadn’t made it clear.”

Buffy gave her a hug before taking a step back.

“How do I look?” she asked just as the door to the apartment opened and Dawn came through it.

There were loud ruptures of joy and hugs and kisses, and more of them when Mikah soon entered as well.

“It’s so perfect you’re here!” Buffy exclaimed. “Thank you so much.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Dawn smiled. “You look fantastic!”

Buffy did a twirl, then reached for her pocketbook.

“I’m meeting Spike for dinner...”

“Where?” Dawn asked.

“He picked the place,” she answered hurriedly, adding at Willow’s skeptical look: “I asked him out – the least he should get to do is choose the restaurant!”

“You asked him out?” Dawn inquired interestedly.

“As a cover for the thing!”

“Riiight.”

“Stop that,” Buffy reprimanded, smiling. “I’ll have him at the office by eleven,” she then said to Willow.

“We’ll be there.”

Buffy’s smile widened, then she grabbed a light jacket and a scarf before rushing out the door.

¤

She arrived at the address he had given her, stepping out of the cab and tilting her head back to look up at the impressive structure of the building before her. It was a hotel, and as she entered the lobby she got a déjà vu feeling from when she had followed him to Paris.

Everything around her breathed romance and she began to grow giddy at the prospect of seeing him.

“The Tea Room?” she asked a bellboy walking by and he nodded to a sign by the elevators.

“Top floor,” he said.

She stepped through the doors and as they slid shut she leaned against the wall.

I’m telling him, she thought. The moment we sit down, I’m telling him. He cares about me, I know he does. I felt it last night, I could see it!

She smiled in triumphant euphoria. Her love for him was going straight to her head and she felt like jumping up and down. This time tomorrow she might be calling him hers. They’d be together.

The doors opened and she stepped into a beautiful restaurant, dimly lit, with freshly cut flowers in vases which stood on low tables everywhere. The lights of the city glittered through the panorama windows running the extent of every wall except the one behind her, which hosted the elevator. She took it in with a smile, turning her head to the side and having everything freeze.

The moment, her mind, her blood.

It all stood still at the sight she took in.

He was at the bar.

He wasn’t alone.

A blonde girl sat with her back to the Slayer. And he was smiling at her, at something she had just said. Her hand moved to his arm, gingerly, familiarly. His hand placed itself over it, his eyes turning warm.

Oh, God.

Buffy couldn’t breathe.

She took a step backwards.

Oh, no.

No.

She pressed the button for the elevator and the doors opened immediately. Thankful she fled into the space behind them. The doors began to slide shut, but a hand suddenly stopped them, and Spike came through them with a questioning look on his face.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

She swallowed.

In one blink she was furious with him. With herself. With everything.

“Where are you going?” he asked when, in elude of an answer, she merely pushed the button for the bottom floor. “Buffy?!”

“I’m leaving,” she said, the doors closing and the elevator beginning to move.

“Why? You asked me out.”

“I know that!” she exclaimed, biting down hard to stop the tears from rising.

“Thought we were having dinner,” he said.

“Seemed like you were fine where you were, I didn’t want to interrupt,” she snapped and his eyebrows rose.

“You’re jealous,” he said, sounding astonished and amused.

She didn’t know what was worse.

“It’s not jealousy. It’s rage.”

“Buffy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if I expected you to be alone for our date. Or maybe she was just sitting there and you thought, hey, might as well get some scamming in while I wait for the Slayer. It’s not like she’ll mind. We’re just shagging, right?! No strings attached. Jolly ho-ho-ho!”

She fought to steady herself, but the tears ran over and she blinked at them, taking a step back as he took one forward. She didn’t want him to touch her. Everything would be worse if he touched her. There was static in her ears and something numb in her chest and she didn’t want him to disrupt it with tenderness because she didn’t know what she would do.

But as he took a second step forward she didn’t move, she couldn’t shrink from him, and the complete opposite need filled her – to have him near her. A second later he was. He stood close to her, reaching up one hand and letting one thumb slide over one wetted cheek. His forehead connected softly with hers and her hands slid up to his neck. She closed her eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she murmured, shaking her head slowly.

“Why?”

She pulled her head back and met his gaze. It was searching, and waiting, and she thought she saw the trace of encouragement in it.

So this was it, then.

She felt oddly ready. For whatever was to come of it.

“Because...” she answered him softly: “I love you.”

He studied her for what felt like a small eternity. She didn’t even realize she wasn’t breathing, but the noise in her ears grew louder and louder as her blood flowed through her veins like liquid copper, slow and thick.

“I thought so,” he then stated.

Her eyebrows arched in disbelief, but he was smiling and his eyes were glimmering with sudden mirth and then his mouth met hers, the kiss deepening.

The elevator doors sliding open, as they had reached the lobby, went by completely unnoticed. They closed again and after another minute Buffy moved her head away, shaking it.

“No, you didn’t,” she protested to his former claim, and he smirked, kissing her again.

He ended it by placing feather light kisses on her cheek, her brow, the ridge of her nose before fastening his eyes in hers.

“You thought I could ever stop loving you?” he wondered, voice warm with emotion and fresh tears rose in her eyes. “Maybe I could force your image to blur a bit, but you never went away. You’re inside me, Buffy, I carry you everywhere. ...I think I’ve told you this before.”

“Something like it,” she smiled, tentative relief beginning to fill her. She wasn’t going to lose him. “But it’s so long ago,” she added.

“No,” he disagreed. “It’s really not.”

Her smile widened as he joined their lips once more.

“Can you repeat that part about loving me?” she asked; mouth still to his.

“I love you,” he said.

Another smile was on her mouth as she tilted her head back, saying:

“Thank God.”

He smiled as well, their hold on each other tightening and she rested her head against his shoulder, feeling astounded and joyous and thankful.

This is it, she thought. A defining moment. The threads of years of actions coming together to show you hah-hah, this is where you were headed all along.

Spike pressed the button for the top floor, his arms still around her and she relaxed against him, the tears abating, her smile remaining. He kept one arm around her waist as they once again entered the restaurant. He promptly escorted her over to the bar and she was about to say it really wasn’t necessary, when the blonde woman turned around and fired off a bright smile.

“Buffy,” Spike said. “I’d like you to meet Camelia – the head of the Henna branch and the lady who is preparing to take over the firm.”

She stared at him; feeling like whacking herself on the head before she moved her eyes in Camelia’s and smiled warmly.

“Hi,” she greeted. “Very nice to meet you.”

“And an honor to meet you,” Camelia said, taking the hand Buffy reached out to her. “How does it feel to be a living legend?”

“Hardly a legend.”

Camelia smiled.

“Hardly anything less. I would love to stay and chat,” she continued, getting off the stool and grabbing her pocketbook, “but Spike told me you have reservations and as luck would have it, I have a date.”

She kissed Spike’s cheek, said a gracious goodbye to Buffy and was soon gone.

Buffy put on a regretful face.

“Yes,” Spike nodded his full agreement to it. “If you hadn’t jumped to such bloody grand conclusions I would have told you that I had a scheduled meeting with Camelia for this afternoon. She couldn’t make it and asked if we could do it later. I told her to come here. That’s why I wanted you to meet me, instead of me picking you up. As would be proper for our first date.”

She smiled sheepishly.

“I’m very sorry.”

He smirked, kissing her cheek tenderly.

“We can’t have that,” he murmured in her ear and she smiled, resting her eyes in his.

¤

She couldn’t bring her gaze away from him. Everything he did seemed to be enhanced, enchanting. She wanted to take part in all of it. She listened to every word he said, hung on the pronunciation, the expressions on his face.

He was as in love with her as she was with him. Still as in love as he had been when their united story began. She could barely let herself dare to believe it. She lost herself in his eyes and for the first time it didn’t scare her, she welcomed the sensation of nothing else mattering.

Then she remembered what this dinner was supposed to be prelude to.

She blinked, looking at her watch.

“Oh,” she said. “We have to go.”

He furrowed his brow.

“Why’s that?”

“Because there’s something I want to show you.”

He smiled at the suggestive note in her tone, sending word for the bill and paying it.

“I was supposed to do that,” she pouted, but he shook his head.

“Come on,” he said, holding out a hand to her and she took it, rising.

¤

She gave the cabdriver the address and Spike looked at her quizzically.

“The firm?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, cuddling close to him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I promise you, you’ll never be able to guess.”

¤

“A giant leaping frog?”

“No,” she stated.

“A tiny leaping frog?”

“It’s not in a box, I keep telling you!” she laughed, walking down the dark hallway of Angel Investigations, taking them to the conference room.

“A mini-me.”

She smirked, shaking her head as she grabbed the knob of the door.

“A giant me? A big tub of tiny marshmallows? A you in a very skimpy outfit?”

She pushed the door open and stepped out of the way as he took one step forward.

“Alright, where is it?” he asked, the light being flipped on and a hearty ‘surprise!’ being shouted from those gathered.

He stared at them all. He seemed extraordinarily surprised, indeed, and Buffy smiled widely at his expression. His eyes caught the streamer and his brow furrowed.

“What date is it?” he asked, turning his head to her.

She slipped a hand in one of his.

“Your birthday,” she answered.

“You did this?”

She nodded as people began to approach him. Angel and Isabel were the first. Then Giles, and Willow. And then people he had worked with over the passed few years, people from the firm, Clem was there with his girl, and there were people he had helped whom had stayed in touch.

Buffy took a step back, and let him greet them on his own, feeling her heart swell with the simple satisfaction at seeing him so happily engaged. She couldn’t get her smile to simmer down; instead it seemed only to gain in force.

When he spotted Dawn it looked as though his smile would be too big for his face.

“Can’t believe you’re here,” he said.

She embraced him.

“Happy birthday,” she congratulated warmly.

¤

“How did you do this?” Spike asked Buffy as he, half an hour later, joined her at the punch bowl.

“Magic,” she answered. “Almost literally.”

“Can’t bloody remember the last time I celebrated my birthday,” he smiled. “Brings me back.”

She returned the smile.

“How’d you like the streamer?”

“First thing I noticed.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

“I like it,” he said, an earnestness entering his eyes as his hand brushed her cheek. “Thank you.”

She felt almost embarrassed under his gaze, but then she stood on her toes and kissed him briefly.
He smirked, and she did as well.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Oh, my God,” she added, her eyes having landed on something over Spike’s shoulder. “He came.”

Spike frowned, then turned his head to where she was staring.

Xander spotted them and approached, carrying a wrapped present in one hand and a bottle in the other. He cleared his throat a little, glancing at Spike and fastening his gaze in Buffy’s.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

He seemed hesitant, then finally locked his eyes with Spike’s.

“This is for you,” he said, awkwardly holding out the gift to the vampire.

Spike accepted it with almost as much staleness.

“Jackie picked it out,” Xander admonished. “She couldn’t come. And I’m only staying one night,” he added with a look at Buffy. “They say anything can happen during a baby’s first months.”

“Jackie’s uber-mom, Xander. Jessie will be fine, you don’t have to be so dramatic,” Buffy said.

“I get it,” Spike assured and Xander looked at him again. “Decent of you to show.”

“Yeah, well,” Xander muttered, realizing he was still holding the bottle and reluctantly handing it to the vampire as well. “It’s blood,” he said. “Butcher said it’s the better stuff. In case you have something to celebrate sometime, or whatever it is you... do with it.”

Spike smiled in appreciation.

“Thoughtful,” he commented and Xander shrugged again.

“Yeah, well,” he repeated.

“Xander?” Dawn’s voice rang from behind them and when he turned around she screamed in delight, throwing herself around his neck. “Xander! Xander!”

Willow soon heard the name and came to join in the yell-and-jump-fest, Giles not far behind, though he kept himself in the background until the girls calmed themselves enough for him to shake hands with Xander.

Spike smiled widely, his eyes in Buffy’s. She returned it, getting the feeling he was thinking what she was thinking. The core of the old gang in the same room once more. She slipped a hand in one of his.

¤

“What are you doing in there?” Spike called.

It was almost five in the morning, and Buffy had been gone for fifteen minutes. She had mysteriously disappeared into the bathroom the moment they got back to his apartment.

“Well,” she replied, an arm sliding in through the slit created by the bedroom door standing ajar, “I heard someone mention something,” she continued, her left leg following, wearing knee-high fishnets and high heels, “about me,” she added, the door sliding open and she stepped through it as she finished, “in a skimpy outfit.”

His jaw dropped.

Exactly the reaction she had been looking for.

She was in a red bra and matching panties, knowing that both pieces brought out the best of every curve. Her hands had been kept behind her back, but now she brought them up to place what they held on her head.

A pair of glittery, red horns.

He smiled, his eyes gleaming with delight.

“Devil!” he said and she pouted her lips into a kiss before spinning slowly around, giving him a full view.

Coming full-circle to face him she leaned forward.

“Happy birthday, baby,” she said softly.

¤

“So, we’re doing this now?” he asked. She was comfortably locked in his arms. “Birthdays, holidays, the whole bleeding shebang?”

She stroked his chest tenderly, nodding.

“We’re doing it,” she said.

He kissed the top of her head and she smiled.

“Are you really moving to England?” she wondered.

“I’m moving to you,” he said. “If you’re not in England there’s not much point in my being there, is there?”

She looked up at him, still wearing the smile.

“We could live here for a while,” she offered. “If you wanna help with the firm thingy. Six months isn’t that long. And if they really need you...”

“They don’t,” he said, his fingertips sliding over her cheek.

“I wish you’d called me. That you’d picked up the phone the second you were able to,” she mumbled and there was an expression of agreement in his gaze. “Why didn’t you?”

He smiled slightly.

“I didn’t want to ruin what you remembered me as.”

She frowned.

“You were being selfish.”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I was thinking of you. How much better it was for you to think well of me.”

She eyed him for a minute in silence, then said:

“You were scared you’d screw it up.”

“Terrified.”

She smiled.

“And I thought you’d moved on with your life,” he added. “Thinking that made me able to... stand not seeing you. That you were happy. And I knew you were.”

“I mourned you,” she said. “And yeah, I had to leave it behind, but I didn’t forget you. Finding out that you were alive was such a... shock to me. And I was so hurt that you hadn’t contacted me. I didn’t understand why. And then I figured you’d decided that that part of your past was finished. Done with. You didn’t want to be reminded.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I just felt I’d disrupt your existence if I tried to step into it again. And that was the last thing I wanted. And then two years had gone by, three, four... And the reasons dimmed a bit, and it almost got to be a matter of principle. You were coming – meant I was going. I knew you had every right to see Angel and I wasn’t gonna bloody stand in the way of that.”

“And every time I came I was bracing myself, thinking I would see you. But after a few visits I guess I just started expecting you to be gone on some last minute thing.”

He smiled again.

“I was an idiot.”

“A moron. A dope!”

His smile broadened.

“You weren’t too bright yourself,” he pointed out.

“It went so far that I almost felt... not ready to see you again. I got scared that you’d be so changed I wouldn’t recognize you. That we wouldn’t be able to talk anymore.”

“Yes, because we had such somber, heartfelt discussions back in Sunnydale.”

She smirked.

“That we wouldn’t even be able to fight anymore, then,” she said.

They looked at each other, growing quiet before both moving their head forward, their lips joining in a kiss which was soft and loving; wiping out whatever conclusions and misunderstandings had kept them so far apart.

He moved his head back, meeting her gaze with one tender. She recognized the expression so well, and it went into her, how incredible it was to see it there, still, after all this time.

“I loved you, you know,” she said. “That last year. I felt for you... and I think I saw you for the first time, as you really were. It frightened me. What you did for me. What would have driven you to do that for me. That you loved me that much... That you’d loved me, all along. All the things I’d done... and said...”

“You had every right to do them, and say them,” he interrupted, voice low and full of understanding.

“No,” she shook her head. “Some of them, yes, but others... If I’d believed you sooner...”

“Buffy,” he smiled. “There’s no use dwelling on it. It doesn’t matter.” He moved his fingers carefully through her hair. “You love me,” he said. “What else could possibly matter to me?”

She got herself further up to wrap her arms around his neck, nestling her face against his throat.

“But you really didn’t believe me, did you? When I told you. In the Hellmouth.”

He seemed to hesitate, then answered:

“No. I couldn’t.”

She closed her eyes tightly.

“I guess I already knew. Guess I couldn’t believe you wouldn’t have gotten in touch with me if you had had even a smidgeon of a reason to believe me.”

She trailed off, her hold tightening.

“It’s okay,” he said, stroking her back. “Buffy, let’s stop this. There’s no use.”

“I want you to know that I’ve thought about...”

“I know,” he stopped her, bringing her head up for her to meet his gaze. “Don’t you think there are things I regret? Don’t you think there’s a century of killing I wish I could take back? Whatever happened back then was meant to happen. There’s nothing we can say or do that’ll take it back. Let’s leave it alone. I love you,” he said, the look in his eyes intensifying. “I love you.”

She smiled, meeting the kiss he gave her with a new, centered calm inside of her which spread its wings and cautiously fanned away any fear or doubt that had still remained.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.