Disclaimer: Again, Joss Whedon’s creations are not mine; I just briefly give them a rest from his cruel mind.


Authors Notes: Much thanks to slaymesoftly for help with the first chapter of my story.

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Prologue


It had been three weeks since the end of the battle, and as far as Buffy Summers was concerned, three weeks since the end of the war. Never again would Buffy have to carry the burden of Slayerhood and its endless threats of apocalypse. She had an army, and the Hellmouth was gone.

As was everything else.

It was all gone. Her home, her mother’s grave, the Bronze, the graveyards she used to patrol…everything she had come to know and love, everything bitter and everything sweet, even some of her friends had fallen away and crumbled to dust…

Along with the man she loved.

But he didn’t even believe she did love him. She had told him, and he hadn’t believed it. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. But what hurt worse was the fact that she had never given him reason to, and would never have the chance to fix it.

He had done things for her that she still couldn’t wrap her mind around. He had fought for her, endured torture for her, crossed oceans and done things that no demon should have been willing to do. He had gotten a soul, gone against his very nature for her. All he had wanted was her love, and all she had given were her fists, her cruel words and her burdens.

She wanted to change what she had done. If she couldn’t take it back, then she would give him more, everything, all of herself. That was why she had gone to the demon…she had tracked a wish-granting creature, not much different from a vengeance demon. A little reality needed to be bent, and he was just the creature to do it.

She would have one week. She would have only one week in a place that seemed exactly like her home; one week that her lover would be removed from his final rest, with no memory of his death. She would have that short time with no burdens or battles besides the inner ones…seven days to prove to Spike that she loved him.
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Day 1

Buffy woke up to the sounds of birds. There was light beating against her closed eyelids and it irritated her to no end. Groaning, she rolled onto her side and away from the offending sunshine streaming in the open window. She pulled the comforter over her head and was immediately struck by the fact that the hotel must have used the same detergent that she used to.

Opening her eyes, Buffy was greeted with the sight of sheets and pillows exactly like the ones she’d had at home; and tucked half under the comforter with her was a stuffed pig that looked a lot like Mr. Gordo…

She shot straight up, sitting up in bed and throwing the covers off . She reached for Mr. Gordo and immediately hugged him to her chest as she looked around, open mouthed at the beautiful sight of the bedroom that had been her mother’s and then later had become hers.

Trembling, she drank in every detail about the room that she could. It was just like it had been when she last slept in it, right before the battle with…

No. She hadn’t slept in this room right before the battle with the First. Faith had taken this room, and she had slept in the basement…

With Spike.

Suddenly it all came rushing back to her: how she was there, WHY she was there…Then something else struck her; not only was she once more in her old house, in good old Sunnydale, but she was in her old house with the man she loved.

It was hard to breath, and even harder to bottle the emotions that were rushing to the surface. She had kept those emotions hidden from everyone, including herself. She hadn’t been able to stand the emotion Spike caused in her, the absolute chaos that he brought to her life, so she had spent the last year ignoring it completely.

Buffy still remembered the last night, right before the battle against The First. She had gone to him that night; it had been just the two of them down there, with hours to spare. They could have been together that night, one last night…but they hadn’t taken the chance. They had both been too afraid to step outside of the fragile friendship they had built.

Neither of them had been bold enough to make that first move. Buffy could see the fear in him. She could tell he thought that if he made one wrong move she would pull away in disgust or fear, and they would loose the bond they had been gaining. And Buffy…she had the courage to lead her little army into battle but didn’t have the strength for a gentle touch that was more than comfort.
Slowly, she put Mr. Gordo down. What was she doing? She had made that wish for a reason. She had regretted not making love to Spike that night, not giving him part of herself…she wasn’t going to sit there hiding behind a stuffed pig and letting her regrets continue.

She stood from the bed, looking down at herself. She was in her yummy sushi pajamas, and she was sure her hair was a disaster. Buffy knew she didn’t exactly look her best, but she also wasn’t willing to spend hours making herself look just right when her time was limited. Besides, hadn’t she waited long enough?

Peeking her head out of her room, she studied what she could see of the house. Everything was quiet. Everything was empty, but everything was also right where it was supposed to be, just the way she remembered. She gathered her courage and took a step out of her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, carefully, quietly. She made her way slowly down the hall, past her old bedroom, which had been set up as Willow’s. But when she peeked her head inside, she saw that there was no Willow. She moved next to Dawn’s room, and it was the same as Dawn had left it, only her sister wasn’t there.

Down the familiar staircase she went. She was amazed to find that it even squeaked and creaked on the same steps. She looked into the living room, then into the kitchen. There was no one in either room. That was just as she arranged it…she didn’t want anyone else here with her, anyone else’s drama or opinions. She only wanted her second chance with the vampire who she knew was currently in the basement…

But she had to work up her courage before she could go down to him. Besides, how long had it been since she had seen her home? She made her way through the living room and a lump rose in her throat. She tried not to get teary eyed as she looked at the pictures of her mother and sister, all the things they had lost when the Hellmouth was destroyed. She even wanted to cry when she saw the weapons chest Xander had made for her.

It was all so real once she was standing in her living room again. Before it had just seemed like a vacation, hopping from hotel to hotel, city to city and trying to figure their lives out again. Part of her had always expected to come home. Now that she was home, she not only realized how much she missed it and how much she lost, she also realized that she had better soak it all in now, because in seven days it would be gone.


That thought gave her more courage. She knew she could no longer waste time on nervousness or hesitance. She was the slayer, damnit. If she could take on the First Evil and its hordes of ubervamps, then she could take on a single normal vampire with sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes that always betrayed his every emotion…

Courage. She had to have courage. She gathered as much as she could, as much determination as she could muster as she made her way out of the living room and towards the basement door. She didn’t let herself pause once. She was afraid that if she allowed herself to hesitate, she would loose the entire day. She opened the door, staring down into the dark. She could see the stairs just fine because of the light she was letting in. She didn’t bother to close the door as she made her way carefully down the stairs, wincing at the sound of her footsteps. Why did it feel like disturbing a tomb?


Buffy shivered at the thought. Was that what this was? She wouldn’t let the thought give her pause. She was so close; all her tinglies were warning her of the presence of a vampire, and her heart was beating a mile a minute. She glanced over at the cot on the other side of the basement and nearly sobbed aloud when she saw the pale skin, the muscular back and a bleached blonde head resting on the pillow. The sheets barely covered his hips, barely concealing his naked body.

She found herself suddenly grateful that he slept naked. She needed to see more of him, so much more. It wasn’t enough to just know he was there. She had to touch him, to be close to him. Buffy had to know that she had him.

The basement floor was cold against her bare feet. She made her way towards the cot, careful not to make a single sound. She brushed her fingers through her hair self consciously, making sure the long golden locks weren’t flying everywhere and weren’t knotted.

As she neared the cot, her heart nearly stopped. She finally got to see his face. Buffy realized that she had forgotten how beautiful Spike could really be. She had never thought of any man as beautiful until she had met him. And now that she saw him – REALLY saw him – she decided that that was what he had been all along. Her eyes began to fill with tears, but she willed them away stubbornly. She didn’t want her sight to blur. She wanted to keep looking at him.

His bleached blonde hair was in unruly curls. She could see the sharp edge and hollow of one cheek, the soft curve of his lips…he was not sleeping peacefully. His brows were furrowed, and one of his hands was clenched into a fist, pressed hard to his chest as if he were in pain. Buffy wanted to see his eyes, wanted to see him awake, here with her, where it was safe.

Reaching out hesitantly, she gently touched the cool flesh of his shoulder. Her fingertips wandered down his arm, across muscle and surprisingly soft skin. The hand that was clenched at his chest slowly began to relax.

Buffy loved his hands. They were strong and gentle, with long fingers that seemed to know just where and how to caress. They were cool and callused, and when Buffy’s fingers laced through his it felt like coming home. She felt his fingers tighten on hers and smiled when she watched his eyes open. Blue locked onto hazel and they were immediately lost, both unwilling to look away.

Spike seemed to remember himself first. His eyes moved away from hers and down to their joined hands. He raised a scarred eyebrow and looked at her questioningly. When Buffy said nothing, he looked towards the stairs, then the basement door. Buffy could tell he was reaching out with all his superior senses.

“The house is empty…” He met her eyes again. “Where is everyone?” He frowned for a moment, then pulled his hand away from hers before sitting up. “The battle…what happened?”

Buffy swallowed. He obviously hadn’t noticed the affect he was having on her…she hadn’t realized how much she had missed the sound of his voice. The English accent, the deep tone…and she missed the expressions on his face, how he seemed to wear every thought and every feeling.

It was from the way he was staring at her that she realized she had not answered his question.

“Wha…?”

At her blank stare Spike seemed to become a bit worried. “The battle, luv…the battle with the First? At the Hell Mouth?” He raised his hand and waved it in front of her face. His mood suddenly seemed to darken. “I didn’t get knocked out in the middle of the battle like a ponce, did I?”

“How…” Buffy was embarrassed by how weak her voice sounded. “How much do you remember?” Had the wish not been granted as she asked?

Spike thought this over for a moment. He was obviously struggling with the memory, trying to piece it all together.

“I remember at least part of the battle…the army, many good tussles…and then the necklace…it started hurtin.” He frowned. “Burning.”

Buffy nodded. “The necklace worked,” she explained. “It’s actually what turned the tide so much.” She spoke the next words softly. “You’re what turned the tide.”

There was something very close to hope in Spike’s eyes as he searched hers.

“It took a lot out of you”, Buffy continued, deciding that this was where the lies should come in. “That’s probably why you don’t remember anything very well. But it’s alright…it’s over. The battle is, I mean…we won. The first was defeated, the Hellmouth closed, and Sunnydale seems to be empty of all Bads, of the big or small variety…and, well, anything else.

Buffy had watched the hope in his eyes grow, then slowly become satisfaction and something close to cautious happiness. But he seemed to sober immediately at the reminder that they were alone.

“The others?”

Buffy smiled. “Almost all of them made it, thanks to Willow’s spell. But a lot of them were injured. Giles took them to L.A. I think they plan to stay with Angel until they know for sure that everyone’s fine.”

Spike quirked a brow. “And we’re here, because…?”

“Abandoned or not, someone still has to look over the Hellmouth.” Determined to move on to more important things and not let him dissect their situation too much, Buffy changed the subject. “How are you feeling?”

Shifting on the cot uncertainly, Spike frowned in confusion, then shrugged. “I feel…fine, actually. ‘m not even all that sore.”

“Good.” Buffy smiled warmly and placed a hand on his shoulder. As soon as she touched his skin she found herself, again, very aware of the fact that he was naked underneath that single, thin blanket. Her mind began to wander to places she would much rather put that hand right then…’Bad Buffy!’, she mentally scolded herself. She knew she had to concentrate on more wholesome things, like showing him how loving and tender she could be. “I was really worried about you.” She removed her hand from his shoulder and placed it gently against his cheek.

Spike leaned closer, pressed against the gentle touch and closed his eyes. Buffy watched the vampire’s face, his tender expression as he enjoyed every moment of contact. She lowered her hand slowly, but did not pull it away. She stroked the hollow of his cheek with her thumb before brushing it over his soft lips.

She loved those lips too, and she wanted so badly to taste them again…that could be considered wholesome, right? As long as it was a soft, tender kiss, it could still mean good intentions.

Slowly moving her thumb away, she leaned closer still and pressed her lips to his in its place. She kissed him tenderly, surprised when he suddenly pulled away. Buffy opened her eyes to search his, only to find him doing the same thing. There was barely concealed shock and awe on his face, but he was also searching her face for something…Buffy realized sadly that he was searching for a look of regret, hesitance, maybe even revulsion…

There was none of that present on her face. There was no revulsion, no regret, and now there was no hesitance as she placed her hand at the back of his neck and pulled him back to her. When their lips met again there was no hesitance on his part either. He didn’t pull back from her embrace. Instead, he wrapped his strong arms around her and began kissing her back.

Things didn’t take long to escalate. Buffy could scold herself with thoughts of doing things right all she wanted. It didn’t stop her lips from parting or her tongue beginning to do battle with Spike’s. Her body was warming to the reality of his cool hand slipping into the back of her pajama shirt and resting just on her lower back.

It had been over a year since she had kissed him. She had forgotten how good he was at it, his tongue stroking hers and tracing across the roof of her mouth. Her hand moved from the back of his neck and across his shoulder, then down over his well-defined chest. Their kiss was becoming intense, neither of them willing to break it. Buffy was getting remarkably wet, remarkably fast, and she knew Spike would be able to smell her arousal.

Finally, Spike pulled back, giving the slayer a chance to catch her breath. He rested his forehead against hers. “Bufy…?” His voice was heavy with need.

She pulled herself onto his lap, immediately feeling his erection pressing against her thigh. She heard him take an in a sharp, unneeded breath. Buffy pulled him down to kiss her again, their tongues sweeping teasingly now, teeth grazing and nibbling gently against lips while their hands wandered one another’s bodies, rediscovering with each touch.

Buffy was breathing heavily in her need. She didn’t know how she had ever denied him for so long. She would have been ripping his clothes off right then and there if he had any on. Instead, she lifted her own shirt off. She wore nothing underneath; half her body was bare to him.

Spike broke the kiss, and for a moment Buffy was afraid that he would pull away again. Instead, he moved the kiss away from her lips, along her jaw, then right below her ear, making her shiver. He flicked his tongue across her earlobe, then began his soft kisses down the side of her neck while his hands wandered over her back, then across her belly and up to cup her breasts.

She moaned, leaning her head back and giving herself to the gentle touches that were driving her mad. He was kissing down across her chest while his hands fondled her, gently stroking the nipples into hard peaks with his thumbs. The tip of his tongue brushed against the tops of her breasts. She moaned again, pressing her lower body harder against his. He gasped, and then groaned out loud. He was painfully hard.

He moved his hands away, wrapping his arms around her waist while he captured one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling on it like a man dying of thirst. Buffy gasped and squirmed against him again, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. She felt his tongue flick against the hard peak after he released it, and then moved on to the other one.

“Spike…oh god…”

She pulled away, and he immediately stopped. His eyes were downcast, and Buffy realized that he thought he had gone too far. They were both breathing heavily, both painfully aching for the other. She said nothing, merely pulled back enough to lower her yummy sushi pajamas and toss them aside before moving back onto his lap and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Cocking his head to the side, he met her eyes again. He was barely restraining himself.

“You sure?” he asked with a heavy voice.

She smiled at him, then kissed him deeply, pulling away only to reassure him. “Sure. Very sure. Please Spike, I need you NOW.”

Needing no more prompting, the vampire pushed her onto her back, throwing aside the blanket that kept him covered. His rock hard cock pressed insistently against her thigh and Buffy was sure she would reach orgasm just by looking at him. Her hands wandered over his body, down across his pecs and over his well–defined stomach, over his hips and down his thighs before moving back up and barely brushing her fingertips against his prick.

The affect on him was wonderful to watch. He half closed his eyes, his jaw clenching as he struggled to keep control. One hand was moving sensually over her body in return, between her breasts and down her flat stomach before stroking her thighs. He traced a fingertip against her glistening wet folds. When she drew in a sharp breath he slowly pushed a finger inside of her, making her eyes widen as a gasp escaped her lips.

Groaning, Buffy pulled him closer. She needed him, she had waited so long…but now his thumb was teasing her throbbing clit, moving over it in slow circles that were making her legs tremble. Her hips jerked upwards, her gasp becoming a deep moan of pleasure.

“Spike, please…” she begged him. She sat up just enough to brush her lips against his neck. He shivered in pleasure at the gentle touch, slowly removing his finger and flicking her nub one more time before settling his hand on her hip.

“I need you inside me…” Buffy begged again. “I need you!”

Unable to resist her or his own needs, Spike pressed the head of his cock against her soaking wet pussy and thrust himself inside with one hard stroke. Buffy raised her hips to meet his thrust and gasped before screaming out in pleasure as he filled her, stretching her. Her orgasm hit as soon as his cock filled her tight cunt, making her claw at his back while her inner muscles rippled with pleasure that she knew was only beginning.

Spike was groaning with his own pleasure, burying his hand in her long golden hair and holding it tightly while he pressed blunt teeth against her neck, his eyes squeezed closed. He slowly brought himself back under control and raised his head from her neck, kissing it lovingly. “Missed you, Buffy…” He raised his head completely and kissed her before slowly pulling out and thrusting into her again, just as hard. “God, I missed you so much…”
The slayer could do nothing but cry out in pleasure as he began to pick up his pace, thrusting his cock into her pussy hard and fast, and growling low in his chest like a possessive animal. Her hips matched him thrust for thrust, rising up to take him into her body harder. Buffy decided that there would be time for gentle and tender later. This was raw need, far too powerful to stop.

Panting and clawing at her lover’s back, Buffy let herself go completely, no longer able to form a coherent word. Spike was pounding into her now in a way that would be painful for a normal human. Instead it sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, making her throw her head back and moan far too loudly for either of them to hear the squeaking and the sound of snapping metal coming from the cot beneath them.

Spike was holding her hair firmly enough to sting, but neither noticed. His growling had become outright snarling as he slammed his hips to hers, burying his cock into her willing and wet body over and over, and trying to satisfy both parts of him: the man who loved the slayer and the demon striving desperately to claim its mate. He felt her muscles tighten around him as Buffy approached another orgasm and he groaned out loud.

Buffy bit into his shoulder, holding his body desperately to hers as they fucked with wild abandon. They both needed it badly; it had been far too long. She released his shoulder and arched her back, screaming out as another orgasm slammed through her, making her inner muscles spasm while her legs quaked, no longer having the strength to stay wrapped around her lover.

His fingers tightened their hold on both Buffy’s hip. She had no doubt there would be bruises later that day, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. She was still panting heavily with each wild thrust he made into her while she watched the signs of Spike’s approaching orgasm. His jaw clenched, his eyes had rolled up before closing and he was taking heavy, unneeded breaths. He finally gritted his teeth, throwing his head back and releasing a loud groan of release as he buried himself deep inside her body.

Wrapping her legs around him immediately, Buffy allowed him to lie on top of her, covering her body, yet not smothering her like some of her past lovers had. Both of them were panting hard, Buffy lacing her fingers through Spike’s unruly curls while he rested his head against her shoulder. For a brief moment Buffy was very afraid that one of those long, awkward pauses would follow…

And then the cot collapsed underneath them. The bent and broken legs gave way and the cot with the two lovers on top crashed to the cement floor.

Dazed, the vampire and the slayer raised their heads, looking down at the cot beneath them, around at the basement floor, then at one another.

“Well…” Spike said. “At least we made it to a bed this time…”

Buffy managed to keep a straight face. “Unlucky for the bed…”

They managed to continue keeping eye contact…until both burst out laughing.