By sunset, Buffy was a limp rag.

"No more exploring. I can’t move."

He leaned over her, grinning smugly. If anything, he seemed even more energized than when they had started.

"We should leave something for tomorrow," he agreed. "How many times did I make you scream?"

"I lost count." She gave him an exasperated glare. "Look at you. You’re like that miserable Energizer bunny. Don’t your batteries ever run down?"

"Not when they’re getting recharged every time. Your blood," he explained at her puzzled glance. "One, the blood of a Slayer is a powerful aphrodisiac. Two, the blood of a Slayer is just plain powerful. I won’t need to feed for days. ‘M just humming with energy right now. Could maybe take on every demon in the Hellmouth all at once and lick ‘em hands down."

"Lord, just how much did you take?"

"Just a couple of sips every time we made love. A little less than two-thirds of a cup, all told, most of that when we first initiated the claim."

"Is that all?" She was amazed. "It really must be powerful."

"Is. That’s why every vamp existing wants a taste of it."

"And it’s all yours. Straight from the tap."

He stroked the strands of her hair back from her face, his eyes serious. "Don’t have to take it if you don’t want me to. Tell me not to and I won’t."

She shook her head and cuddled into him. "I want you to." He only bit her when she started to come and the sensation was incredible, intensifying her orgasm to the point of near unbearable rapture, just as those few sips of her blood intensified his. "Is it always this way when a vamp drinks from you? If so, I think I can understand Riley a little better."

"The claim makes it way more intense. The other is just a pale shadow of it."

"I like this claim thing," she purred. "So many good things about it."

He grinned. "Oh, yeah."

She stretched luxuriously. They had finally made it to the bed. Even though it was only a single and they had to lie tightly curled up against each other, it was still better than the floor. When she stretched, her whole body rubbed sensuously along the length of his. He purred.

"Mmm. Do that again, luv."

She did and he buried his face between her breasts and sighed contentedly.

She kissed the top of his bright head. "My bones have turned into wet noodles. Help me up."

He burrowed deeper. "Why?"

"I want to take a shower before we go to Wolfram and Hart."

"Don’t have to. We could..."

"Why do I think I know how that sentence is going to end?" She pushed away from him, giving him a wicked, sideways glance as she did so. "You need a shower too."

His tongue curled behind his teeth. "We could save water if..."

"Just what I was thinking."

He started to laugh. "What’s happened to all your inhibitions, Slayer?"

"You did. C’mon."

In the bathroom, she went straight to the mirror to inspect her neck. With all the times that he had bitten her, it should have looked like a pin cushion. To her surprise, there were just two neat puncture marks. He had bitten her every time exactly in the same place, sliding skillfully into the claim mark.

"Are all vamps this careful?"

"Angel wasn’t," he said contemptuously.

That was true. Angel had left a torn, ragged mark when he had bitten her. Mind you, he had been off his head at the time.

"Where..?" The scar of Angel’s bite was gone. She realized with amusement that Spike had bitten her with surgical precision right over Angel’s mark, obliterating it.

"Claim takes precedence." He looked a little embarrassed, then brightened as he felt her delight and amusement across the claim bond. "Guess you don’t mind, huh?"

"Not a bit."

She watched him turn on the shower, adjusting it carefully to the temperature that she preferred.

"No bath gels or fancy shampoos, pet," he said ruefully. "Just soap and a generic shampoo."

"For color-treated hair?" she teased and he grinned at her.

"Of course. You realize, Slayer, I’m not gonna stop bleaching my hair, even for you."

"Wouldn’t have it otherwise." She stepped into the tub and leaned against him, smiling, as he drew the shower curtain closed. "I like it bleached. It’s you."

"Good." He tipped shampoo into his palm and started lathering her hair. She closed her eyes at the feel of his fingertips moving across her scalp. "Gonna take my time. Apartment buildings never run out of hot water. We could take hours."

"Hey, I’ll get all pruny."

"So? There are compensations."

"Yeah?" She pulled his head down and lathered his hair. "What kind?"

He ducked his head under the spray to rinse off, then picked up the soap. "Let me show you."

"I like the compensations," she purred as his hands and the bar of soap ran over every inch of her.

He turned her to lean back against him as he soaped her breasts and her belly and between her legs, his hands sliding over her, sensuous and teasing. Her head fell back against his shoulder. Between the heat of the water and the heat that his touch was generating in her, her whole body was turning limp and languorous, her bones liquefying.

"Ohh, I’m gonna melt and disappear down the drain."

"Won’t let you." His open mouth ran down the side of her neck, then along the curve of her throat to suck at the hollow at its base.

"Mmm." She shivered, then turned in his arms. "My turn. Gimme that bar."

She soaped him down with as much care as he had taken with her, her hands running over his chest and washboard abs and strong thighs and back, slightly hampered by the fact that he kissed her mouth every chance that he got.

"Stop that," she protested, giggling.

"Why?"

"Because I want to do you properly."

"Oh, you’re doing me proper, pet," he purred and she laughed. Her hands slid between his legs and he caught his breath as she played with his balls. "If you keep that up, luv, this will all be over too soon."

"We’ll just have to start over again then, won’t we?" Her hand slid up and down his hard shaft.

He groaned, then gave a breathless chuckle and stopped her. "And you were the one who was all worn out."

"What can I say? There’s something about you."

"Do something to you, do I?"

"Oh," she sighed. "A lot of somethings."

"Can do more. Gimme that bar back."

They traded the bar back and forth, laughing and purring and playing with each other until they were both thoroughly washed.

"This is so much fun," she realized, as they turned and twisted each other to rinse off. "I was so stupid. I never let it be fun. Never even knew it could be fun."

He smiled up at her from where he was down on one knee, rinsing off her calves. "Fun’s just starting, pet. My new mission. Making sure you have fun. Never allowed yourself that before, have you?"

"No," she sighed. "Always duty. The Chosen One. Blah, blah, blah." She frowned portentously. "Everything must be Serious."

"Not any longer." He kissed his way up her inner thigh, his open mouth sucking on the sensitive flesh. She shivered and leaned weakly back against the tiles. "Like you said, you’re not the only Chosen One now. From now on, we’re gonna enjoy ourselves."

"Like we did all afternoon? Ohhh..."

Fangs had joined the lips and tongue sucking their way up the inside of her thigh. The light, sharp pinpricks of his fangs in her flesh were somehow intensely erotic.

"Mm-hm. But not just for a few hours. Twenty-four hours a day."

She’d never survive it, she thought dimly; he’d gone and found a whole new way to kill Slayers: death by ecstasy.

"Put your leg over my shoulder, luv."

"Like that? Why?...Spike!"

His lips and tongue had found her clit, were sucking and flicking on it. Her legs nearly buckled and her hips bucked involuntarily. She looked down, gasping, and saw him looking up at her smugly, his eyes dancing with laughter as he worked on her.

"Brace yourself, luv."

"You’re evil..."

"You don’t know the half of it."

Two fingers slid into her, pumping slowly, searching for, then finding that one spot of sensitive tissue inside her.

"Oh, God!"

Between his mouth on her clit and his fingers working her G-spot, she just about came apart. He caught her as she folded down on top of him, raised her up with him as he came back to his feet, leaned against her, laughing, as she fell back against the tiles, her arms around his neck the only thing that kept her from becoming a boneless heap on the bottom of the tub.

"Spike, Spike..." She held him tight, whispering his name over and over again. His eyes were soft with pleasure at her pleasure and he was smiling with immense satisfaction, his tongue smugly curled behind his teeth. "Oh, but you..."

"Care to remedy that?"

"Oh God, oh God, I’m gonna die," she moaned weakly as he lifted her and slid smoothly into her. But her legs lifted to wrap around him and her ankles locked in the small of his back to hold him to her. "Ohhh, the way you feel..."

He made her feel so full. He made her feel complete. They moved together gently, sweetly, two halves of one whole. They were both so sensitized by now that every touch, every rock of their hips was an agonizing rapture; anything harder would have tipped over into pain. Mouths locked and hips locked, they surged against each other until the crisis rolled over them like a tsunami. She felt him pulse within her; stars filled the blackness behind her closed eyelids; they were one being, body and soul, never to be parted.

"Love you," he whispered into the curve of her shoulder. "Love you so much."

"Love you too. So much. Don’t ever leave me."

"Won’t. Can’t. You own me. You always have."

"And you own me. I’m yours."

"Mine," he said wonderingly and she felt his awe and disbelief across their link. It still wasn’t completely real to him. "It’s going to take some time for me to get used to that. I’ve wanted it for so long."

"Can’t you feel it? Over the bond?"

"I can feel it. I just can’t believe it. Give me a few decades."

She laughed and held him tight. "I’ll give you forever. How’s that?"

He kissed her hard. "Barely enough."

"It wasn’t you that caused the problem," she said as he turned the water off and reached for a towel. "You know that, don’t you? It was me. I was an emotional coward."

He gave her an incredulous look. "You a coward, Slayer? Not possible."

"Was." She leaned against him as he dried her off. "Running scared. Think about it. Four guys, three good, one bad. The three good ones all turned bad. And the bad one, that was the one who turned good. How weird is that?"

He was smiling, amused. "So I’m good now, am I?"

"Saved the world, didn’t you?"

"That was for you."

"And the Scoobies. And the Potentials. And how many other people?"

He didn’t seem to know where to look. If he hadn’t been a vamp, she was sure that he would have been blushing.

"I’m no hero, luv."

"No, you’re a Champion." She kissed him softly as they moved back into the bedroom. "But leaving that aside, you were the right one for me. Except I couldn’t believe it. I was always fighting it, fighting you. I never let myself just be with you."

"You with me now, pet?"

"Oh, yes, love. Oh, yes. All the way."

"All I ever wanted," he sighed, sinking down on the edge of the bed and drawing her to stand between his knees, his arms linked loosely about her waist.

"And I never stopped wanting you. Even when I was being all Denial-girl the most, I could never stop myself from wanting you. That’s what made me be such a bitch. Kept trying and trying, but could never make myself stop wanting you."

"Felt that," he said very quietly. "Wasn’t enough for either of us though. Not the way we’re made. I’d have lived with it if that was all you could give me. I’d take anything you want to give me. Didn’t matter if it was fists or kisses. But...but I wanted more. I wanted..."

"To be loved."

"Yes." He leaned his forehead between her breasts, his face pressed to her stomach and his arms wrapped tight around her. "Wanted to be loved back the way I loved. Never was. Poor Dru. She never could. She wanted to, but she didn’t have the capacity. She was fixated on Angelus. He’d made her so, twisted her around, broke her before she was even turned. She never had a chance, poor sorry little bint."

She wrapped her arms around his head. How long had he lived? Twenty-eight years before he was turned, then a hundred and twenty-three years as a vampire—and all that time wanting to be loved and never being loved. Her heart ached for him.

"She saw it, you know," she said slowly. "Saw what I wouldn’t let myself see. Your capacity to love. You just throw yourself into everything. Nothing held back, just headlong into everything. And that’s the way you love. She was a seer. She saw it in you, saw that it would survive the turning, that you’d keep it even when you became a vampire. That’s why she chose you. Her knight."

He looked up at her with a crooked smile. "Yours now."

"Mine now," she nodded. She cupped his face in her hands, kissed his eyes and then his mouth over and over again. "My Champion. Mine."

"Till I’m dust."

He was drawing her down onto the bed again.

"Oh, no. Oh, no. No more. I can’t even stand," she groaned. "If we keep this up, you’re gonna kill me."

He laughed at her even as he let her go. "What’s happened to that vaunted Slayer stamina?"

"Haven’t I been demonstrating that all afternoon?"

Suddenly she got this series of intense, erotic images about what they had been doing all afternoon. They weren’t her thoughts. They were his. He was thinking about it and she was feeling it across the bond. Her stomach tightened and she suddenly had this vivid sensory memory of how he felt within her—thick and hard, filling her, stretching her. Her thighs clenched involuntarily.

"God, Slayer!" He caught her back against him. "If you want us to leave this apartment, you’d better stop coming across that sexy."

That last had been her memory, not his.

She let out a shuddering little breath. "You started it."

"I did? I did," he realized.

"Don’t do that when we’re in public, for heaven’s sake. I won’t be able to answer for myself."

He was grinning. "Oh, this has potential."

"Spi-ike," she said warningly. "Behave."

"Yes, Slayer," he said demurely, but she could feel the mischief-making possibilities just fizzing in him.

She could feel it, just as she could feel him when they were making love. The claim intensified everything. She could feel her own sensations, but she could also feel his; and she could feel him feeling her. It was like two mirrors set to reflect each other: the image flashed back and forth. Only with the claim, it intensified at every pass, until it became well nigh unendurable.

"This claim thing is going to kill me," she muttered and he laughed at her. "Clothes, clothes. Where are my clothes?"

"All over the livingroom."

He pulled on his jeans and collected them for her while she toweled off her hair in lieu of the blow-dryer he did not possess.

"Oh, Lord!" she exclaimed once she had her clothes on and glanced into the bathroom mirror to check her hair.

"What?"

"This tank top. It does nothing to hide the claim mark."

"Do you want to hide it?" He sounded a little hurt.

"No, not at all." He relaxed as he felt the sincerity of that statement over the link. "It’s just that it’s so very visible."

"Oh. Just leave your hair down. Won’t be so obvious that way." He sifted her hair through his fingers. "Besides, I like your hair down, Goldilocks."

She smiled at him. "Know you do." He always had.

***

When they got to Wolfram and Hart, Buffy balked, staring up at the towering glass and steel structure.

"Good God."

"Yeah," Spike growled, unimpressed.

"Tank top and jeans don’t really cut it."

"Hey, Slayer. Don’t let it intimidate you. You can take this place down to rubble with one hand tied behind your back."

"Nothing like chutzpah, huh?"

"My motto."

It was. She looked at him, all cocky and smirking, with his bleached blond hair and the black duster swirling around him. That brash, defiant, in-your-face attitude of his had always driven her mad. He had lost it during that fragile time after he had regained his soul and she had missed it. He hadn’t been Spike without it. She was over-the-top delighted to see it back in spades.

She flung her arms around him and hugged him.

He hugged her back. "What brought that on, Slayer? Not that I don’t like it."

"Chutzpah. Yours. I love it."

"Good. You’re gonna see a lot of it."

In the lobby, he stopped short. She lifted a brow at him.

"Forgot. Don’t know if Fred’s left for the day. If she has, we’ll go over to her place. Let me just have the desk call up." When he came back, he was smiling. "Everyone’s there except Angel. He’s off on a mission somewhere."

"I can do without Angel," she shrugged indifferently and Spike grinned.

"That’s what I like to hear." He caught her hand. "Come on."

The more she saw of Wolfram and Hart, the more it troubled her. The place reeked of wealth and power and corruption.

"I can’t believe Angel bought into this," she muttered and Spike slanted her an understanding glance.

"Sold out for a decorative office and some fancy cars, huh? ‘S more than that, though. He’s made some sort of devil’s bargain with them. Won’t say what. Won’t discuss it at all."

"Typical."

"Yeah. The rest of them, they think they can change things from the belly of the beast. Doesn’t work that way. It’ll change them. But they won’t listen to me."

"Good intentions..."

"Road to hell, luv. Fred’s in her lab. This way."

Fred turned out to be a tall, slender, gawky young girl with long brown hair and luminous eyes. She took one look at Spike and Buffy holding hands tightly, and broke out in a wide, infectious smile.

"The two of you look so happy! I’m so glad!"

Spike went straight up to her, caught her up in a tight hug and whirled her around in a wide circle. She squeaked as her feet left the floor, then hugged him back, laughing.

"Thank you," he said seriously when he put her down again. "Fred, thank you."

"Thank you from me too," said Buffy, hugging her as well.

Fred blushed vividly. "I didn’t do anything. Just made a phone call, that’s all."

"That phone call meant everything to us," Buffy said quietly and Fred flushed again.

"You went against Angel for me," said Spike. "Won’t forget that, luv."

Fred shook her head. "It wasn’t a choice between you and Angel. It was just...doing what was right."

"Won’t get you into trouble, will it?" Spike asked worriedly.

"With Angel? No way."

"The wanker holds grudges."

"C’mon, Spike, it’s Angel. He might get upset, but it won’t be with me. It’ll be with you. I’m kinda glad he’s not here right now, otherwise we’d have a scene. But he’s not going to take it out on me."

"No. With you, he’d just go away some place and brood," Buffy muttered under her breath.

Fred giggled involuntarily and Spike gave Buffy a delighted glance.

"Got his number now, have you?"

Buffy gave him a look and disdained to answer.

"What are you going to do now?" Fred asked.

"Well, that’s why we’re here, luv. Came to say goodbye. Gonna go to Rome with Buffy."

"Rome," sighed Fred wistfully.

"Come and visit," said Buffy immediately. "Any time."

"Oh, I’d love to."

"Do."

"Bring Percy," said Spike and Fred blushed so hotly that her whole face went red. Buffy gave Spike a puzzled look and he gave her a bland one back.

"You see too much," Fred said, trying to hide her face.

"He always did," Buffy muttered.

"Look, Tex," said Spike seriously. "You can tell me if I’m out of line here, but I could give you a little advice. Out of personal experience, seeing as how I’ve been the same kind of prat as he is."

"Oh?" said Buffy with interest. Fred was just staring at him with a panicked expression on her face.

"Gotta make the first move, luv. The guy’s crazy mad about you, but he’s too scared to show it, maybe because of that business with Gunn, maybe because he just doesn’t have the guts."

"Ah," said Buffy. "I see the parallels."

Fred gave her a wild-eyed look. "Did you...?"

Buffy grinned. "Oh, yeah. Had to jump his bones."

"Works," murmured Spike.

Fred waved a hand helplessly. "I...I..."

"Think about it." Spike rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "‘Nother thing. You might consider getting out of Wolfram and Hart."

"Spike..."

"Might consider getting him out of it too. I dunno. I’m getting a bad feeling here."

"He’s usually right when he says things like that," Buffy said softly. "He’s got an instinct for that sort of thing."

"I...I’ll think about it."

"Do that. Right then. Gunn in?" He turned in a swirl of black leather and caught Buffy’s hand.

"In his office." Fred tagged along as he headed out of the lab doors at his usual tempestuous pace, dragging Buffy along with him.

A few minutes later, he was barging unannounced into Gunn’s office. "Charlie boy!"

Left in the corridor, Buffy and Fred grinned at each other.

"I never want to see him when he’s high," Buffy said wryly, "if this is what’s normal for him."

"He is high," said Fred, smiling. "He’s high on you. It’s really good to see him so happy!"

"Thanks for caring, Fred."

"Hard not to. He cares, so much. Though he’d probably gut me for saying so."

Buffy grinned. "Know what you mean."

A boyish-looking guy in a lab coat turned up at Fred’s side, with a clipboard of notes he wanted her to review. While she was dealing with that, Spike came flying out of Gunn’s office.

"Back in a sec, luv," he said to Buffy and dived into another office. "Percy!"

Curiosity piqued, Buffy edged closer to that office’s door. She wanted to see who Percy was. It turned out to be Wesley—a much better-looking Wesley than the one she had known, at once grimmer and more relaxed, the stiff, inept, prim and proper Watcher gone. There was a sense of quiet competence to him now, a maturity and compassion that hadn’t been there before; he was solidly reliable now. Somewhere in the last few years, Wesley had found himself.

She looked from him to Fred, oblivious as she concentrated on lab notes. Well now. Buffy started to grin. They would make a cute couple.

"Well, good luck in Rome," Wes was saying. "I’m sure you and Buffy will be very happy."

"So am I. And while we’re on that subject," Spike said, scarred eyebrow rising and a cocky smirk provokingly dawning, "you might consider asking Fred out to dinner. I have it on good authority she wants you to."

Wes looked as if he had been punched hard, right in the gut. He just stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I...I..."

"And, Wes?" Spike’s face went suddenly absolutely serious. "Get her out of this place. It’s not good for her. I mean that."

He swirled around and came heading back to Buffy. Their hands clasped smoothly as he reached her. Over his shoulder, she saw Wesley dazedly following after.

"Only a couple of minutes longer, luv," Spike said and waved to a green demon with an appalling taste in clothes, who was just coming down the stairs. Buffy tensed automatically. "Now, now, pet. Stand down. Can’t kill all the demons on the premises. Place is just crawling with them. This one at least is harmless."

"Embarrassing as it is to admit, I am," the green demon sighed. "My name’s Lorne and who might you be, scrumptious?"

"Buffy."

Lorne’s eyes widened. "Angel’s Buffy?"

"My Buffy!" snarled Spike.

"Sorry. Just meant he talks about you all the time." Lorne’s gaze noted their clasped hands. "Ah. Getting the picture, sweetcakes. Does Angel know?"

Spike smirked. "Not yet."

"Give me some time to get to safe minimum distance before you tell him."

"He’ll probably find out after the fact. We’re heading for Rome. Just came to say goodbye."

"Well, I for one will miss you. Wanna sing for me?"

"What?" interjected Buffy, bewildered.

"He can read people’s auras and futures when they sing," Spike explained.

"You’re kidding."

Spike was grinning. "Wanna have a go?"

"I can’t sing!"

"Sure you can."

"Doesn’t have to be a whole song," Lorne interjected. "Even a phrase will do."

"Come on, luv. I died, so many years ago..." His eyes softened as Buffy started to smile. "But you can make me feel..."

Buffy’s voice melded with his. "This thing is real. And you can make me feel..."

Spike’s eyes widened. "Those aren’t the words, luv."

She stroked his face very lightly with her fingertips. "They are now."

"Ah, true love." Lorne sighed dramatically and with relish. "The two of you are going to be very, very happy. Trust me."

The elevator doors opened.

"Buffy!" Angel exclaimed in astonishment.

"Um...after a few speedbumps," amended Lorne and hastily backed into Wesley’s office, slanting the door half-closed so that it partially protected him.

"That’s torn it," muttered Wesley. "I was hoping you two would be gone before he came back."

Angel ignored them both. He was staring at Buffy’s neck.

"You bit her! You son of a bitch! You bit her!"

He was across the lobby with vampire speed and had ripped Spike away from Buffy before she could even react.

"Angel!" she gasped in protest.

Angel hadn’t taken Spike by surprise though. Spike had been expecting it from the minute the elevator doors opened. He hit Angel with all his force, a solid blow straight from the shoulder, with the full weight of his body behind it. Angel sailed across the lobby and crashed into the reception desk, some fifteen feet away.

"Whoa!" said Buffy, impressed.

Spike raised his brows at her. "Slayer blood. Told you."

Angel raised himself onto an elbow, snarling and in gameface. "You drank from her?"

"Yes, he drank from me, Angel. He claimed me. I understand it’s customary."

"You let him claim you?" He staggered to his feet, still in gameface, then paused and sniffed the air disbelievingly. "My God, I can smell him all over you. It’s disgusting!"

"Oh, really?" Buffy’s voice was icy. "Yes, you can smell him all over me. We love each other. We made love. What is disgusting is you sniffing at me like that."

"You can’t love him!"

"Why not? Oh, let me guess. He’s a vampire. What are you, Angel?"

"This is not about me, Buffy!"

"Isn’t it? I’m not allowed to love anyone but you, is that it? You’ve moved on, but I can’t? I’ve heard about Dog-girl, you see."

"Nina," Spike murmured.

"Thank you."

"That’s different," Angel protested. He had lost the gameface and was giving her the puppy-dog eyes which had worked on her when she was in her teens, but which she now found profoundly irritating. "That’s just..."

"Just sex? Gee, Nina would be so glad to hear that."

"I want you to have a normal life!" Angel yelled at her.

"News flash, Angel. I’m not normal. I’ll never be normal. I’m the Slayer. My life consists of vampires and demons and hellgods and Powers That Be. You want? What about what I want?" She smiled at Spike. "I want Spike."

Spike gave her a deliriously happy look and reached for her. Their hands met.

"No!" Angel roared. He had flashed back into gameface. "You don’t know what you’re doing! I won’t let you ruin your life! Don’t you understand—the claim gives him power over you. But not if he’s dead," he snarled. "I challenge the claim!"

He flung himself on Spike. Buffy whipped around just before he reached them and hit him with all her strength. He crashed back against the reception desk.

"Good one, pet," said Spike, judging the distance with an appreciative eye. "I think you got a couple of feet on me."

"He meant to kill you, didn’t he?" Buffy marveled.

"Him or me. That’s what it would have amounted to. I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. And I’d have won. Beat him a while back just over some sodding cup. This time it’s you. That’s some incentive, that is. Oh, yeah, I’d have won. You stupid wanker," he said to Angel. He stepped forward and dragged down the neck of his T-shirt, exposing the human bite mark at the base of his neck. "It’s an unbreakable claim. I claimed her and she claimed me. We’re mated. Linked. Nothing can change that."

Angel just stared, holding his jaw.

"I think you’ve rendered him speechless," Buffy remarked.

"Oh, you did that. I think you’ve broken his jaw, pet."

"That means no interruptions. Excellent. Because I have something to say and this time you’re going to hear me, Angel." She stepped forward until she was standing right in front of Angel, then looked him right in the eye. "You’re a bully, Angel, and you’re a coward."

Angel made a wild gesture of negation and appeal.

"Yes, you are, Angel. You ran out on me. Things got hard and you ran. I’d have stayed with you forever, even if we couldn’t sleep together. But we couldn’t have sex and you ran. All the other stuff, all the ‘love’ didn’t matter."

"It was all about getting your rocks off, poofter, wasn’t it?" Spike growled. "Could have given her a happy any time without losing your soul, couldn’t you? That’s what I’d have done."

"Shut up, Spike," said Buffy, but she was smiling.

Spike shrugged in acquiescence and subsided, grinning, having made his point.

"Spike would have found a way around the curse, at least looked for a solution. You didn’t. You just took off. But you weren’t satisfied with that. You still had to run my life. All this business about a normal life, about the soul. All that crap. And I bought into it. Riley, Parker, all that misery, because of you. And Spike who never let me down, who was always there, who loved me and fought at my side and endured torture for me and got a soul for me and died for me, Spike had to fight for something he never should have been asked to fight for. I’d have allowed myself to love him years ago if it wasn’t for all that shit you brainwashed me into."

She kicked the reception desk hard, denting it, not far from Angel’s head. He flinched.

"And then when I finally realized how much I loved him, you...I told you he was in my heart, but you didn’t want to admit that. He came back and you didn’t tell me. You kept him from telling me himself. You told him I’d moved on when I hadn’t. You put me through one hundred and forty-seven days of pure misery that could have been avoided with one phone call. And now, when we’re finally together, you want to take him away again."

She bent down and spoke right in his face.

"Not going to happen. We’re mated. Suck it up and deal. You hurt him in the least little way, I’ll come back and stake you, Angel. That’s not a threat. That’s a promise."

She straightened up again.

"Right then." She held out a hand to Spike. "We’re off to Rome, dear heart. Coming?"

Spike had his head flung back and his eyes half-closed in pure bliss. He opened his eyes and smiled at the ceiling.

"This is the best day," he informed the ceiling. He reached towards Buffy. Their hands met and clasped tightly. "Yeah, I’m coming, luv. Anywhere you want."

Fred had run ahead and was holding the elevator for them. As he came level with her, Spike caught the back of her head in his free hand and kissed her hard.

"Owe you. Big time."

"Whoo!" Fred fought for breath and Buffy grinned at her. "Whoa, mama. I get where you’re coming from, Buffy."

"And he’s all mine."

"Yours always, pet," Spike affirmed.

He swept Buffy off the floor and up into his arms, unable to resist the dramatic flourish. Buffy laughed as he carried her into the elevator, turned, then bent and kissed her hard and thoroughly. The temperature in the elevator went up so visibly that the onlookers thought they could see steam coming out of it. Then the doors slowly closed upon the sight, like the curtains at the final act of a play.

Fred sighed deeply in satisfaction. "So romantic."

She ignored the glare that Angel was giving her and marched straight up to Wesley.

"Wes?"

"Yes?" said Wesley, somewhat startled.

"I want you to take me to dinner tonight."

Wesley was floored. "I’d l-l-love to."

Fred beamed, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulled him forward and kissed him hard. Wesley’s knees nearly folded, then he recovered himself and kissed her back. Thoroughly.

"Works," she said, gratified, when their lips finally parted.

"Wh-what does?"

"Jumping your bones," she grinned.

Lorne was bending over Angel, holding out a hand. "Come on, Angelcakes. Let’s get you patched up."

Angel slapped the outstretched hand away, clambered to his feet and stamped into his office. A moment later the door slammed and they heard the click of the lock.

"Gee, grouchy much?" Lorne remarked. "Guess we know what he’ll be doing for the next several days."

"Weeks," said Wes.

"Months," murmured Fred.

In chorus. "Brooding."



The End