"Make love to me. William," she said, addressing the man.

"Buffy!" the name escaped his lips like a strangled cry, as he pulled her forcefully closer to him, so that she was now sitting on his lap, legs opened wide. He could feel the heat from her, as they ground against each other in mutual desire, mutual intensity.

Everytime he touched her, it was as if he hadn’t touched her for a year, years, forever. Actually, that feeling could be aptly applied to last night, but it had always been like that, and he suspected, were he was to live with her one hundred years, one hundred, hundred years, that it would still, always be like that. He could never imagine wanting her any less, not being thrilled with the touch of her skin, her lips on him, her small, strong hands on his body, her heat seeking him out, the sound of his name on her lips, the sound of her moans as her passion mounted, as he…

Clinging to him with one hand, she put her hand down between them, trying to set him free.

Suddenly, he raised up his knees and holding onto her tightly, stood up; her legs still over his.

At the sudden upward movement, Buffy, gasped, as she tightened her legs around him as he rose. She looked at him with eyes that carried the memories of the first time she’d wrapped her legs around him, initiating the consummation of the affair that nearly killed both of them; to the unbelievable sweetness that been able to blunt, if not wash away, past hurts, past guilts, past angers.

He put his hands underneath her legs to help her with balance as he carried her to the bedroom. Tonight would not be about her mounting him against a wall.

He turned around at the edge of the bed and sat down, so that he legs now had contact with the mattress. He lay down and she came with him, on top of him.

Her mouth sought his out, as she straightened out the length of her body, to match it to his. She leaned up slightly on one arm to help give him access to the buttons of her pajamas, switching arms, so he could pull it off altogether. They were now bare breasts to bare chest.

"Spike," she sighed, as that half of her body made contact with his.

Running his hand down her back, he came in contact with the elastic of her pajama bottoms and slipped his hand under it, firmly taking hold of her bottom as he pulled her down further onto him.

Buffy raised up slightly on both arms, as she arched her back. His mouth left hers, as his other hand and his mouth sought out her breast. Gently at first, he suckled her nipple into his mouth as his hand found her other breast. His tongue twirled on her nipple as he pulled it more strongly into his mouth; she groaned as she lost herself in the delicious sensation of his expert touch.

Before Spike, she’d never had much of any reaction to someone either touching or sucking at her breast. She’d figured it was just for the man’s pleasure, mostly, and was willing to go along with it, for that sake. Neither good nor bad, it had been a sexually neutral experience.

But with Spike, she’d discovered that his slightest touch at her breast gave way to an immediate sexual response between her legs, as if he were there already. It was an amazing feeling. All connected - lips, ears, neck, brain, breast, stomach…all crying out for him, for him to be inside her.

He sucked her breast hard now, as the heat between them ignited like gasoline on a fire. She rubbed against him, increasing the friction. He was so achingly hard for her, he could barely stand it; her heat, her warmth, her touch; all made him practically delirious every time they came together.

He was a fool for her love, but he didn’t care. Not a bit.

Suddenly, he felt her hand undoing his pants, and then he was free; into her waiting hand, as she got up on her knees and began to pull his pants down toward his knees, then off, altogether. She sat on her knees by his feet, as her small hands ran themselves up the outsides of his legs, under his knees, up the sides of his hips. He looked at her as she did so, like a goddess discovering the topography of her long, lost kingdom.

Her hands then moved to the inside of his legs, starting with his ankles, as she slowly moved upwards. As much as he wanted to keep watching her, Spike closed his eyes, helpless, in response to the sensation. She worked her hands upward to his inner thigh. Ever so slightly her hands touched his scrotum. He groaned as he hardened even further.

She smiled to herself, knowing the effect she was having. She scooted upwards on his legs, rubbing herself through the pajamas, as she did so. Her hands now were on his stomach, directly above and on either side of his cock. She dallied with him like this for another couple of moments, before finally putting her hands on him.

"Buffy," he moaned aloud, as she finally touched him.

She stroked him for a few minutes, playing with all parts of him, then bent over and took him into her mouth.

Suddenly, Spike opened his eyes, almost startled, "You don’t have to do that, luv," he said to her.

She removed her mouth, "I know, want to," she said, resuming.

He lifted her gently off of him, "No, you don’t have to, luv," he said, a little more insistently this time.

It dawned on her why he was making it an issue. Not only had it been a game with them last year, one that she’d always, determinedly won, but also, perhaps, somewhere in the Victorian part of William’s brain, he didn’t think it nice; that is, for him to be receiving pleasure, while she wasn’t.

Before Spike, she’d never had sex that was anything other than front to front. No putting mouths in strange places, no other positions. The fact that she’d liked it, and with him - soulless Spike, last year, had made her think that it truly was a perverse sort of sexual pleasure only reserved for the truly degraded. But now she knew better. When you loved someone you didn’t mind using your mouth, wanted to taste the person all over, nothing dirty or degrading about it.

She slid her body back on top of his and kissed him gently at first, then harder. She put her mouth to his ear and whispered, "Spike, I know I don’t have to, but I want to."

He turned to kiss her hard and she responded, but again broke off the kiss to whisper again into his ear, "Don’t you want to know why?" she asked, seductively, throwing him off.

"Why, that luv? " Spike said, playing along, aroused by her voice.

She raised up and looked him in the eyes, seriously, without pretense or playfulness. Kissing him softly, she whispered into his ear, "I want to, because I’m in love with you, Spike." Again, she rose to face him, to look at what she knew would be his amazed, earnest eyes; "In love with you!" she spoke the words softly, but distinctly.

"In love?"

She nodded, taking his face into her hands, smiling, "IN love. Me with you; Buffy with Spike," then added, giggling, "Elizabeth with William."

"Now that we have that out of the way, will you please allow me to show you just how much?" she asked, lips pouty.

He just nodded, dumbly, blind-struck by her words, her openness…

As she rose back up to do what she aimed to do, he quickly added, "But, only if you let me show you how much I love you, too. After."

"Deal," she said, smiling, before her mouth got too busy to answer.

"Oh, Buffy! God, don’t stop," Spike gasped as she brought him closer and closer to orgasm. His hands held her head, guided her, but didn’t make her go down any further than was comfortable. She’d felt her own excitement increasing as he switched to stroking her back, in rhythm to what he was feeling, rubbed her breasts, any bit of skin available as he was driven closer and closer to release.

She expertly kept him on the brink for a while longer, until she herself was so excited by his reaction, that she couldn’t do anything other than what his body was silently begging of her mouth to finish.

She sucked him harder, up and down her mouth went, caressing his balls, until she felt him go even harder, as his hands pulled at her hair, moved her head. Then just as he was about to come, he tried to pull her up. He didn’t want her to have to…

She resisted, not wanting to let him go, wanting to show him she could be there for his end, too.

"Buffy!" he called, as he came.

"Oh God, Buffy," he said, moments later, as he pulled her back atop him, "you’re so good to me!"

He then flipped her over, so that he was now on top of her.

"So good to me, pet, so sweet," he said, between kissing her lips, her nose, her eyelids, her ears, her neck…

"Spike," she sighed.

"Spike’s gonna take care of his girl, his Buffy, his love," he mumbled, "right now, pet, don’t you worry."

"Not worried," she mumbled back, "happy."

He licked her neck and felt her shiver. He could feel the blood pulsing under he skin. Soft, delicate skin. Feel the salt and sweat of her. He grazed her neck with blunt teeth as she groaned in excitement to his body over hers, the weight of him pressing her down, his once again hardness, pressing against her, seeking her out.

He rolled her onto her stomach and got on top her back. He lay on top of her, kissing her neck as she moaned in pleasure at the feel of him from behind. He arched up to his knees, his mouth kissing the back of her neck, down her back, her spine as he rubbed his hands down her back. He slid further down her legs as he kissed the soft curves of her behind.

Buffy was moaning into the pillow as she rubbed against the mattress.

"Raise up on your hands and knees, luv," he said to her.

As she did, he turned over, so that he was on his back, his face underneath her.

He spread her legs and eased her onto his waiting mouth.

She moaned as his tongue hit that most sensitive, throbbing area. As she moved herself against his mouth his thumbs rubbed on either side of her opening, pulling the skin, making her feel sensations inside her walls. Finally he put his fingers inside her. He could feel her juices running down his fingers onto his face as his tongue worked it’s magic.

"Oh, Spike, God, oh, God," Buffy moaned as she rubbed back and forth against him, his sensual mouth. When she felt his fingers enter her, well... it had been a good thing he’d pulled her toward the middle of the bed or she would have been hitting the headboard each time she lurched forward.

He loved the way Buffy tasted, juices flowing, swollen, red, wanting him, "So pretty," he mumbled, "all that sweet honey dripping down," he said between licks.

God! His voice! She thought she was going to lose it right then. He knew how he affected her, talking sweet to her with that lovely voice of his right when she was almost out of her mind, taking her to another level of desire.

Juices flowing, he could feel her nearing its peak on his tongue. Right before she came she always gave off an almost imperceptible tangy, almost electrical sort of charge. Like having his tongue on a 9-volt battery.*

"Come for me, Buffy," he murmured, "give it to me, give yourself to me. You’re mine, all mine!"

"Spike!" she nearly screamed as within seconds of his last words she came; explosively. And then, seconds later, as he continued licking her, she came again, and again, a third time.

Fearing she was going to hurt herself, he finally let go, as he eased himself out from under her, as she collapsed onto her side.

"You alright, pet?" he asked her, at her side, once again.

All she could do was nod.

"Never had a multiple before?"

Buffy shook her head, staring at him, "I only thought that was a myth," she whispered, "didn’t really know…"

He kissed her, "Wanna know a secret, luv?" he asked, "I didn’t know either, never gave one before," he said with a grin.

She grinned back.

"Better use those sparingly, Mr. Worthington," she said, laughing a little.

"I promise," he said, seriously, holding her close.

She closed her eyes for what she thought was a moment, but fell asleep, deeply, in Spike’s arms.

Spike was tired, but he couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to miss one moment of this experience, of Buffy. God, he couldn’t believe she was here, with him, here. It really was like Sunnydale was another world, a separate world that took, and took, and took, but never gave.

Bugger.

He quietly eased her out of his arms so he could do his duty to her. He picked up the cell phone, connected it to the modem, and placed a pillow over the whole thing, as to not disturb Buffy when it dialed up, and called home. Seeing that everything was alright, he hung up, ignoring Willow’s IM, with a curt, "Later," and looking at an email that Wood had sent her, telling her that he’d enjoyed dinner, blah, blah. He deleted it, then felt guilty, "Better ‘fess up in the morning," he thought, not giving Wood any more thought. He knew where he stood now, where he fit in, fit in with her. Where he always was supposed to; he wasn’t worried anymore.

He disconnected, and once again, brought Buffy back into his arms. Still asleep, she nestled back into his tender embrace.

He bent over and kissed the top of her head. Buffy, his Buffy. He looked up at the ceiling, at the heavens. Why couldn’t they’ve always had this? He asked, but knew the answer. "Because, you poof, you were beneath her, still are. History of killing and mayhem doesn’t usually wind up with boy getting girl. Especially, not as good as this one is," he reminded himself, none-too-kindly.

But she’s here now, forgiven you for all of it, let you move on, gave you a reason to hold on when there was no other…

"Buffy, I love you so," he said softly to her, as she slept on, in a safe, dreamless slumber.

An hour later, Buffy woke up. Before she could open her eyes, she felt him, knew he was there, not only because she was in his arms, but could feel his consciousness, knew he was awake.

She opened her eyes to find his blue ones looking at her, "Didn’t sleep?"

He shook his head, "Just watching you sleep pet," he smiled at her.

"Oh, also, called home, everything’s fine," he said, briefly.

"Thank you for not forgetting; in the midst of all this," she smiled, slightly blushing.

"Wouldn’t do that, pet, much as I might want to," he said, smiling back at her in a way that let her know he knew exactly what she meant, "made a promise to a lady."

Her arms went around him, and she kissed him softly at first, as she pulled him over on top of him.

He kissed her back, softly at first, then harder, as her mouth was more insistent for his. He felt her legs go around his calves, interlocking with his legs, as she drew him closer and closer to her body.

Without much adieu this time, he put his hand down between them, adjusted himself for the ready and in seconds, he was inside her once again. Swimming, drowning, it made no difference.

He looked at her, as she looked at him, her eyes reflecting back his feelings, instead of turning away from them. And he knew then. Knew it was this essence, between lovers, that poets tried to put into words, singers into songs, and writers into words.

Of course, it all came up short. It was the inexplicable, the unexplainable, the sacredness of love; that elusive metaphor that inspired those who create, to create, those that love, to love even more.

Spike was happy for once, to be in the latter category.

Buffy looked up at Spike, sharp lines of his face softened by the glow of candles, hair mussed up and natural, blue eyes looking back into her green ones as she rocked to the rhythm of their lovemaking.

They continued to look at each other, silently; no words necessary anymore, as their bodies moved in unison, until, no longer able to hold each other’s glance, eyes snapped shut as they crashed together, in wave after wave of mutual pleasure and release.

Afterward, he lay on top her, her arms holding him protectively in a post-loving embrace. As much as he hated to move, some minutes later, Spike rolled off of Buffy, but she clung on, still connected, until they were both side to side, entwined, her leg over his thigh, him still inside her, as she nestled down into his chest and shut her eyes. And they slept, occasionally, half waking to kiss, to resume lovemaking, until falling back to sleep, still within each others embraces.

*Note: I do a little plagiarizing in this story, but don’t worry, it’s only from my own first story, called SEEING YOU. It’s a description that I find most delicious, in fact…oh, but mr. spikealicious says it’s perfectly okay to quote him, again. J… nevermind.

END CHAPTER 32

Toward morning, bodies finally came apart as exhaustion and deep sleep overtook them.

Before dawn, Spike awoke, and gently disentangling himself from Buffy, he quietly got up and went to the desk in the living room, unlocked the top drawer and took out the lock box he’d taken from his crypt the night he saved Buffy from the junior vamps.

He opened it and counted the money, estimating what the jewels might be worth. He counted out about what he figured he ‘owed’ Xander and Giles over the years, plus an extra thousand dollars.

He then wrote two notes:

Dear Clem,

Please drop this off with Edna to give to Lawrence Jr.

Thanks for everything you’ve done this weekend and over the years for me, mate.

I appreciate it.

If I don’t make it, please look after Buffy and Dawn. I’ve left this place to them, with the clause that you can stay on as long as you like.

In any case, you have your investments and will be set, whatever you decide to do.

Hopefully, it won’t come to this.

Your Best Mate,

Spike

P.S. Don’t come back to Sunnydale, stay here! Things are going to get really bad; it may not even be safe here…if that’s the case, pack up and head north!

He then wrote a second letter.

Dear Lawrence,

I forgot to mention a couple of things when we talked.

I’m leaving a lock box with about $50,000 cash and jewels with Edna. Please invest this in some sort of college fund for Dawn Summers. If you need her SS#, I’m sure that can be provided. Make her sister, Elizabeth Anne Summers the guardian of the trust fund, unless…then please either be the guardian yourself, or have the bank distribute it, until she’s 21 years old. She’s 16 or 17, now.

Thank you, as always.

Your friend,

William Worthington

Spike sealed the letter in an envelope and addressed it to Lawrence McKennitt and placed it inside the lock box.

The other letter he addressed simply to ‘Clem,’ and put it above the mantle, in front of the lock box.

He took a pack of smokes from end table and lit one, as he looked at the burning embers in the fireplace.

He walked over to the door of the bedroom and looked in. Spike watched the gentle rise and fall of the blankets, under which Buffy slept. His angel. His heart. His only love.

He threw the butt of his cigarette into the fireplace, then quietly got back under the covers with Buffy. She murmured his name softly, as they found their place in each other’s arms again. Weary from the night and coming morning, Spike closed his eyes as Buffy’s warmth lulled him back to sleep.

An hour later, Buffy woke to the birds singing. She smiled to herself at that small, blessed pleasure; a normal pleasure, for a ‘normal’ girl.

Buffy looked over at Spike, asleep in her arms, nestled down between her breasts. She kissed him softly on the top of his head, and he nestled further. She lay there stroking his back for a few minutes, regretting that nature was strongly calling out to her. She didn’t want to get up and leave Spike, but if she didn’t she was afraid she would wet herself.

Regretfully, she pulled herself loose from his arms, replacing herself, with a pillow for him to rest against, and got up.

She used the bathroom and decided to take a quick shower. While drying off, she decided to surprise Spike with breakfast in bed.

Using the adjoining door to ‘her room,’ she quickly got dressed, then went out to the kitchen.

The early morning sun was beginning to shine brightly now. Buffy went out onto the porch to see how Snowman Spike was faring. He was still standing, but he was getting a little melt-y around the edges. If it warmed up much more, along with the sun, she knew that he’d be done for. It made her sad. She wanted to think of Snowman Spike standing as a sentry, when they left.

Until…they returned? She shook the fantasy out of her head, knowing it was more than she could ever hope for.

She returned to the kitchen and started looking around for things to make for breakfast. "Ummmm," she said when she saw a loaf of 'Dudley's Bakery, Sourdough Bread' in the bag Edna had sent over. "French Toast it is then!" she decided, "Or do they call it Freedom Toast now?" she laughed at the absurdity.

Buffy found a can of coffee and started the old fashioned percolator, perking.

She decided to wait a while before making breakfast; let Spike sleep a while longer. She took a cup of coffee and went out into the living room. Sitting down on the couch, she drank her coffee and looked around at the room, trying to remember everything about it, so that she would never forget each and every detail. This place; Spike’s place, the house that ‘William built,’where she’d realized who she really was, as a woman; what she could become, if only…

Her eyes fell to rest on the Shakespeare book that Spike had read from the night before. Setting down her coffee cup, she picked up the book, "Well, I can read, too, right?" she asked herself.

Skimming over some of the plays, she came to the sonnets. Picking one at random, she read:

SONNET 32 If thou survive my well-contented day, When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover, And shalt by fortune once more re-survey These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover, Compare them with the bettering of the time, And though they be outstripp'd by every pen, Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme, Exceeded by the height of happier men. O, then vouchsafe me but this loving thought: 'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age, A dearer birth than this his love had brought, arch in ranks of better equipage: But since he died and poets better prove...

She swallowed hard.

SONNET 35 No more be grieved at that which thou hast done: Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud. All men make faults, and even I in this, Authorizing thy trespass with compare, Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss, Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are; For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense-- Thy adverse party is thy advocate-- And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence: Such civil war is in my love and hate That I an accessary needs must be To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me

Shaking, now, she read on.

SONNET 81 Or I shall live your epitaph to make, Or you survive when I in earth am rotten; From hence your memory death cannot take, Although in me each part will be forgotten. Your name from hence immortal life shall have, Though I, once gone, to all the world must die: The earth can yield me but a common grave, When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie. Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read, And tongues to be your being shall rehearse When all the breathers of this world are dead; You still shall live--such virtue hath my pen-- Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.

Tears now freely coursed down her cheeks.

Breakfast now forgotten she stood up and went to the bedroom door. Trembling, she looked in at Spike, peacefully sleeping.

Slowly she walked over toward the bed and looked down at him, his features soft and relaxed, she stood silent, memorizing each exquisite detail of his face, as if that could keep him safe; within her. Tears streamed down her eyes as she imagined him here, lost, alone, lonely, afraid, bereft - all because of her.

Shaking, she reached out softly to put her hand to her face, when all of a sudden blue eyes opened. A slow languid smile started forming around his mouth, until he saw her face.

He shot bolt upright in bed, "What’s the matter?" he asked in alarm.

"Spike, oh God Spike!" she said, a sob escaping her lips, "what have I done to you?"

"What are you talking about? You haven’t done anything to me, Buffy!" he said, scared at the wild-eyed state she was in. Pulling her toward him, she collapsed onto the bed, into his arms.

"I have, I have," she sobbed against him.

"You haven’t, luv. Buffy, what’s the matter? Tell me!" he pleaded with her.

"You’ll be lonely! I’ve made…you’ll be…when I’m gone…" she cried, "don’t you see? I should never have let…I don’t want you to be…alone!"

"What are you talking about, Slayer? I’m not alone! You’re not alone! We’re here, together. You’re not going to…" he stopped, all of a sudden knowing what she meant.

"NO! You are NOT going to die, not again! You can’t! I won’t let you!"

"You can’t stop it from happening," she cried, "you can’t! But I could have stopped this…"

"Stopped what?" he asked, angrily, "stopped yourself from loving me? Stopped me from loving you? Fat chance! Tried that already, luv, didn’t work! Just went out and got a soul. For you, remember?" he said, bitterly.

"Now you want to what? Quit? Want to tell me not to love you? NOW? Know what?" he asked, sitting up, angrily.

"What," she asked in a small, scared voice, knowing he was going to tell her she wasn’t worth the bother.

"I don’t care what you say! I’m going to love you, until one of us is dead, and hopefully, that will be me, first, until…until the ends of the earth. You can’t stop me from loving you, not anymore, not now!" he said, shaking her.

Buffy was crying, part relief, part sorrow.

"I know I can’t Spike, it’s just…just…," she cried, holding on to him as if he were life, itself, "I don’t want you to be alone, lonely. I can’t stand the thought that I’ll be responsible for that. I love you, Spike, I don’t want to leave you, not ever, don’t want…"

"Oh, Buffy! Luv! Don’t want you to leave me, ever! Please, luv! Don’t do this to yourself!" he said, stroking her hair. "I’ll be alright, promise," he said, kissing her tears away, "don’t worry about old Spike, here, luv."

Buffy’s heart was breaking with the knowledge that she’d given him so little, for such a short amount of time, and that later today, they’d be going back…back to Sunnydale, back to face The First…back to the possible end for one of them…

She couldn’t help but feel that she’d made this all the worse for Spike. That if she didn’t make it, he would…

He kissed her, breaking her train of thought, "Don’t you go all weepy on me, now, Summers! And don’t you dare regret coming here!"

"I don’t, Spike…it’s been wonderful, it’s just that…" she stammered.

"Just that if you didn’t, and something happens to you now, that I’d miss you any less?" he asked.

She nodded, through fresh tears.

"Bollocks!"

She looked at him.

"Knew you loved me…well, at least hoped you did. If something happens, and I’m not going to let it, so this is just hypothetical; if something happens to you, I’ll curse the fates, grieve, miss you, and still I’ll always love you. No more and no less! No matter what, even if ‘this’ didn’t happen. Don’t you know that?"

She nodded, "But doesn’t this, us," she said, pointing at the two of them, "doesn’t it make it worse? It does for me. I fear losing you, as much as you losing me, because…"

"It’s love, pet. Love. When you love someone, you always know how goddamned much it will hurt if you ever lose them. Terribly, horribly, painfully, torturously, but still…you love because if you don’t, well then…you’ve already lost something of yourself."

"It’s not fair! It shouldn’t be like this, shouldn’t hurt to love someone," Buffy said, through fresh tears.

"No, it’s not fair, but isn’t it worse to love someone and not show it?" Spike asked, "and if you love someone and never tell them, or didn’t get the chance to show them, then ALL you have is regret. That’s worse, I know!" he said.

"Spike…Spike," she said, clinging to him, "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, allow myself to love you sooner."

"Buffy, it’s alright, pet. It just had to be the way it had to be," he said, stroking her back, "no regrets, okay?"

She looked at him, at the man; the person who had loved her more than anyone else had her entire life.

"What good is it going to do either of us to have regrets now?" Spike asked her, "you love me and I love you. We both know each other’s hearts. Now and forever. I can’t regret this, even if the world ends for either or both of us tomorrow. Can’t. Won’t. You shouldn’t either, Buffy," he said, as he wiped her tears away. "Don’t you ever regret that you let yourself love me, not on my account! I’ll never regret your loving me, my loving you. Never. Ever! Do you hear me?"

Buffy just nodded, "I won’t, Spike. I promise. I do love you and I have no regrets for loving you. I won’t. I…I just don’t want you to hurt…"

Spike just held onto her, there was nothing more he could say. He wouldn’t want her to hurt either, but it was breaking his heart that she was hurting for him, about him losing her. Losing her. He shuddered and held on to her tighter, feeling a lump rising in his throat.

Not if he had anything to say about it! He would not lose her! Not again!

He felt his eyes grow moist, but would not let himself cry, wouldn’t give into her fears. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her and she knew it, but he wouldn’t let her see him like this. Have to be brave, for her, his girl, his heart.

Despite her protests, Spike assured Buffy he would happily finish breakfast after she got a little more shut-eye. She was exhausted after the emotional upheaval she had just been through. He helped her gently out of her clothes and back under the covers.

He held her until she fell back asleep, then an idea occurred to him. He eased himself up and went to the living room and gathered his drawing pad, pencils, and a chair.

He came back a few minutes later, and quietly put the chair at the side of the bed.

An hour later, Buffy woke up, a sense of Spike nearby. She opened her eyes and smiled at him in surprise, "Hey, no fair! I could be drooling in my sleep!" she said.

"No, no drool…well, just a little, but I didn’t include that," he joked.

She raised herself up on her elbow; "Can I see?"

"In a couple of minutes. How about I get a couple more, with your eyes open?"

"Okay," she said, and she settled back onto the pillows and looked at him, while he drew.

"Spike?" she asked, having had an idea.

"Hmmm?"

"Could you draw a couple of pictures of just the necklace?" she asked, as she rubbed it lovingly.

"Ahead of you there, luv; already did," he replied.

"Good."

"Shhhhh!" he commanded, as he concentrated on his drawings.

About 20 minutes later, he put down the pencils, "Here," he said, shyly, handing her the drawing pad.

Once again, Buffy was awed by how distinctly lovely each drawing was. There were about four of each, her sleeping, her awake, and the lovebird necklace, including two from the back of the necklace; the side that had the W and the E etched onto it.

"You’re so good, Spike, so very good!" she said, meaning it about much more than this one thing.

"May I…?" she started to ask.

He quickly nodded, as she took out some of the drawings out of the book to take home.

END CHAPTER 33

"You hungry?" Spike asked Buffy.

"I started to make breakfast…earlier…before…"

He nodded.

"Made some coffee, it’s probably old now. I was going to make some French Toast out of Dudley’s Bakery Sourdough Bread," Buffy said.

"I can do that," Spike replied.

"No, let me, please?" Buffy said.

"Why don’t we both…?" Spike suggested.

"Okay…that would be nice," Buffy said, sitting up. She took his hands in hers and pulled him toward her until his forehead rested on hers.

"I love you, you know that, don’t you?" she asked him, a hint of desperation in her voice.

He nodded, "I know, and I love you, too, you know I do, but please, Buffy," he said, a lump rising in his throat, "don’t. Not now, don’t…"

"Okay," she said kissing him softly on the mouth, "okay."

"Come on, let’s get some breakfast," he said, taking her hand and pulling her up.

"Wait!" she said, "I have to put some clothes on!"

"Don’t know why," he said, looking at her from top to bottom, as he licked his lips.

"Because, it would be icky to sit on the kitchen chairs butt naked!" she quipped, making a face.

"In that case, last one dressed is a rotten egg!" he said, as he playfully pushed her back onto the bed and grabbed at his jeans.

"Cheater!" she giggled, as she jumped up and lunged at him, pulling the jeans off his one leg he’d managed to get on, then grabbed at her own.

They wrestled about on the floor and bed for a few minutes, each trying to thwart the other’s attempt at getting clothes on, until they both collapsed on the bed in laughter.

He pulled her on top of him and kissed her hard.

"That’s my girl!" he said, in a low voice, as she moaned passionately at the sudden change in venue, from playfulness to desire.

Buffy broke off the kiss to look at him, "I am your girl, Spike. Always. And you’re my guy, you’re my man. Mine," she said, kissing him hard again, tongue searching out his.

It was his turn to moan as she ground herself into him, kissed his neck, his ears, his mouth, his chest…

He kissed trails of kisses down her neck until his mouth found her breast. Moaning again, Buffy raised herself until she straddled him just right, then brought her hand down between them and guided him inside.

"Luv, Buffy," Spike murmured, "don’t know how you make me feel, each time, everytime I find you so wet, so hot - for me," he said, a look of amazement in his eyes, "Buffy…" he said to her, kissing her again, as he thrust upward, into her, harder and harder as she ground down on him, with the same intensity, same fervor.

"Just for you, Spike," she panted, "only for you!" she cried out as she neared orgasm.

"Love you, love you!" Spike moaned, as her muscles tightened around him, as they crashed into each other, over and over again.

"Spike, oh, oh, oh…Spike!…Buffy, God, Buffy!" they cried out together, to each other, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over them.

END CHAPTER 34

Buffy raised her head to look at Spike, "That's really cheating," she said, grinning, "not that I'm complaining."

He grinned back, "Yeah, guess it was. Tell you what, this time we both get dressed at the same time," he said, and kissed her once more.

Laughing, she got off of Spike and they both got dressed.

Taking her hand, they walked out into the living room and into the kitchen.

Buffy threw out the old coffee and started another pot, and put the pan on the stove, while Spike beat some eggs and milk together, throwing in some cinnamon and nutmeg into the mix.

A few minutes later, Spike added some oil to the hot pan, while Buffy set the table.

Dipping the sourdough bread into the mixture, he started the French Toast, while Buffy set the table and poured them two cups of coffee and orange juice.

Then remembering, Buffy went to the refrigerator and got out a bag of blood, "Got a pan for this?" she asked Spike.

"Don’t have to do that, I can drink it cold," he answered, "don’t think heated blood would wash up too easily out of this old pan."

"Nonsense!"

He shrugged and reached for a pan.

She filled it with water and put it on the stove next to the eggs and turned on the burner. Once it started bubbling, she put the bag of blood into the heated water.

"Never thought of that!" he said, admiringly.

"Used to baby-sit, back in L.A., before I was the Slayer. Just like warming up a bottle of milk."

"Thanks!" he said, with mock indignation.

"Just think of it as a pre-microwave way to warm up something," she said, patting Spike soothingly on the back.

"Okay, okay," he ceded, "it’ll work. Thanks."

Spike finished the French Toast, and placed it on a platter, setting it on the table, while Buffy took the warmed blood off of the stove and poured it into another coffee mug.

She put it down in front of his seat, as he finished bringing the powdered sugar, butter, and maple syrup to the table.

Buffy then sat down and so did Spike.

"Looks good," she said, as he placed a couple of pieces of French Toast on her plate.

"Sorry we don’t have any bacon this morning, ate it all yesterday," he said.

"It’s fine. This…it’s fine. It’s lovely," she said, looking at him.

He looked at her across the table. Her hair was still all mussed up from their latest lovemaking and it made him smile.

"What?" she asked, looking at him quizzically.

"Nothing," he said, still smiling, "just you look so nice, so…happy."

"Sure, I’m sure I look just great, after…" she said, putting her hands up to smooth down her hair, which she knew was a mess.

She put her fork down, and reached across the table to take his hand, "But I am…happy. Truly happy, happier than I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever. I…this has been a wonderful weekend, Spike."

"It has, hasn’t it?" he asked, wonder in his voice, as he interlaced his fingers with hers.

They sat staring at each other for another few minutes, lost in each other, in the feelings, the emotions, breakfast and everything else forgotten.

Spike was the one, who came back first, to the present, "Buffy?"

"Huh?" she said, staring at him, as if it were the first time.

"Better eat, luv, it’s gonna get cold," he said, gently unlacing his fingers from hers.

"Okay," she said, looking back toward her place, rather shyly, it appeared, but really to get a grip on the strong emotions that threatened to overtake her.

"This is really good," Buffy said, concentrating on chewing her Sourdough-French Toast, "like what you did to the batter."

"My mum used to make it this way," Spike said, "just remembered it when I started it, haven’t had it this way in…about 100 years."

"Sourdough bread, too?"

"No, don’t think so, but bread back then did use to be a lot hardier that the crap they sell now-a-days," Spike answered.

She nodded. For a vampire, he sure seemed to keep up on current trends. She smiled to herself.

They finished eating, making small talk about food, places, and people.

Buffy put her fork down, "Well, once again, I’ve overfed at the trough of William Worthington!"

Spike laughed, "That’s because William Worthington keeps working up Miss Elizabeth’s appetite!" he said, a slow, sexy smile spreading over his face.

"Indeed, he does," Buffy agreed, fanning herself in mock embarrassment, using one of the restaurant napkins that had been sent along.

They cleaned up the breakfast dishes, Spike washing and Buffy drying.

"Where do they go?" Buffy asked.

"Just leave ‘em in the drainer, Buffy," Spike said, but Buffy shook her head no.

He looked at her, then nodded.

"Dishes go up here, cups in that one," he said motioning with his head, "and silverware in the drawer next to the stove," he told her understanding that she was putting things back the way they were, before they had come here.

"Okay," she said, trying to keep her voice sounding cheery.

They finished up stood facing each other in the middle of the kitchen.

Spike held out his hands to Buffy and she took them, letting herself be pulled in close.

He kissed her softly, as her arms went around his neck; his arms went around her waist.

"Love you," she whispered.

"Love you, too," he said, as he continued kissing her lips, her neck, her ear.

He pulled back and looked at her, "What do you want to do, today?" he asked.

"Besides this?" she asked, "you mean there’s something else? Other than this?" she joked.

"Wouldn’t know it by us, would ya?"

She shook her head no, giggling.

Spike glanced out the window, "Look," he said pointing, "starting to snow again."

Buffy smiled, "I’m glad, looked at Snowman Spike a little earlier and he was beginning to show some wear and tear."

"Walk?"

"Yeah, let’s," she said, kissing him.

They went off to get dressed and Spike checked in quickly with home.

"Ready?" Spike called out.

"Ready," Buffy said, as she hurried back into the kitchen, pulling on her gloves.

Spike reached over and buttoned one more button on her coat, "Don’t want you to catch your death…" he stopped at the not so funny joke.

"Thank you," she said.

They walked out through the porch and Buffy stopped to fix-up Snowman Spike, first.

"Snowman Spike is a high maintenance kind of guy," Buffy said.

"Like his namesake?" Spike asked.

She put the finishing touches back on his face, having smoothed his middle, added to his bottom, and reinserted his fangs, "Wouldn’t have it any other way," she answered, tossing a snowball in his direction.

"Oh, you don’t want to get me started, Slayer!" he threatened.

"Oh, don’t I?" she said lobbing another one at him, then taking off running toward the woods.

Spike laughed and took off after her; "You’re dead now!"

"Gotta catch me first, Spike," she yelled, looking back.

She stopped, "Where’d he go?"

She turned and was surprised by Spike standing there in front of her, "Vampire, you know! Super speed, when needed."

She laughed, "Yeah, forgot. Well, super-speed this," she said, pushing him back and onto his bottom as she took off again.

He soon caught up with her, the old fashioned way and tackled her from behind. They rolled onto the ground laughing and trying to mash snow into each other’s faces, until laughing eyes turned serious and their lips found one another’s once more.

"Spike," she murmured between kisses.

He felt his face get wet and looked at her. She was crying.

"Now, luv, what’s this?"

"Oh, Spike, I’m going to miss you so much," Buffy said, sniffling.

"Don’t have to miss me, Buffy, I’m not going anywhere, not leaving your side, you know that, pet," he said, looking into her eyes, wiping her tears away.

"I’ll miss you. Miss knowing you here, it’s so easy here, easy to love, easy to be happy, hell…it’s even easy to be me! A me I didn’t even know was me!"

"Buffy!" Spike said, seriously, pulling her up until they were both sitting, "I promise you, you will come back here, we both will! Please believe me, okay?"

She looked at him, his face so sincere and for that moment, she could almost believe him; did believe him. She nodded, "I believe you."

"Say it!" he commanded, "say we’ll come back here!"

"We’ll come back here," she whispered.

"Say it like you mean it!"

"We’ll come back here!" she said, louder.

"Again!"

"We’ll come back here!"

"Louder!"

"WE’LL COME BACK HERE!" she shouted as loud as she could.

"AGAIN!" he said, pulling her up.

"WE’LL COME BACK HERE!" he shouted right along with her this time.

"That’s better!" he said, nodded and kissed her on the mouth.

He took her hand then, and they continued up the path.

About half an hour later, Buffy said, "I know where this is!" she said, and letting go of Spike’s hand, she walked over to a cherished landmark, "Hello, Tree, old friend," she said, giving it a pat.

Spike pulled a knife out of his boot and walked over to the backside of the tree.

"Don’t hurt it!" Buffy said.

"I won’t, I wouldn’t, just a little decorating," he said, as he started working on something.

"Hey, no peeking," he told her, when she tried to see what he was doing.

She stopped, and just stood on the path, imagining the picture Spike had drawn of he woman’s body, shadowed on the tree, and smiled at the boot he’d put on the ground.

"Okay, you can look now," he told her, as he stepped back.

She went around to where he was. He had carved a heart into the bark and it said,

"W Loves E."

She smiled at him, "I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ever carve declarations of love to me in anything before!" she said, "thank you."

He smiled back at her and looked admiringly at his handiwork. He then bent down and picked up some of the bark he had to strip from the tree. He handed them to her, "A memento, " he said.

She put them into her jacket, patting the pocket, "A piece of tree," she said, then inspired, "a piece of thee!" she added.

"Gahhh!" Spike snorted, rolling his eyes.

"What? Don’t I sound like the Bard?"

"Oh yeah, you sure do!"

She giggled, and taking his hand, pulled him toward her for a soft, lingering kiss.

"Now that’s poetry!" he said, kissing her back.

"Then I should publish it, right? Do public readings, perhaps?" she asked, teasingly, between kisses.

"Better not, missy! You’re my poetry, mine only, understand?" he said, kissing her harder.

"Yours, lover, only yours, Spike," she agreed.

He broke off the kiss and yelled, "WE’LL COME BACK HERE!" and she joined in, until their voices echoed throughout the woods.

END CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36 - LUNCH

They walked back to the house in mostly silence, holding hands. As they walked past Snowman Spike, Buffy gave him a pat, smiling.

Spike smiled at her.

As they entered the porch they smelled it - food.

They walked into the kitchen to see Clem at the stove, "Hey there, guys!" he said.

"Hey yourself," Buffy said.

"Thought you guys were already gone until I saw the car, so I knocked and when nobody answered, thought I'd come in and fix some lunch," Clem said, looking at Spike and Buffy, "hope that's alright."

"No problem," Spike said, "and thanks," he added.

"Smells good, what is it?" Buffy asked, "and don't tell me it's Bear in Yak Urine Sauce, either!" she joked.

"No, next time I'll make that! This is some Turkey Stew I threw together from some stuff that was in the 'fridge," Clem said.

Spike took off his jacket, and helped Buffy off with her jacket and boots.

Buffy noticed there were only two places set for lunch, "Aren't you eating with us, Clem?" she asked.

"Nah...you guys should eat by yourselves," Clem answered, as he came over to the table with two bowls of soup, "besides, had a big breakfast, don't need any more calories," he shook his arms and they jiggled.

"Come on Clem, why don't you join us?" she asked, looking at Spike.

"Er, yeah, mate, you should sit down and have a bowl with us," Spike said.

"Well, if you're sure you don't mind..." Clem said, hesitantly.

"We're sure!" Buffy and Spike answered together.

"Okey-dokey, then," Clem said, and poured himself a bowl, got himself a tablespoon, and plopped down on an extra chair Spike had gotten him from the living room.

"Ummm, this is good Clem!" Buffy said, "you should come over and teach Andrew how to cook like this!"

"I could do that," Clem said, smiling, agreeably.

Spike gave him a quick glance, and Clem stopped with his spoon in mid-air for half a second, and gave him a small nod.

Buffy barely caught it, but she did.

"What?" she asked, looking back and forth between Clem and Spike.

"Um…I won’t be able to do that, Buffy. Not now, anyway," Clem said, sadly.

"Why not Clem?" she asked, still looking at them both.

"Er…um…I’m not going back. To Sunnydale…for now," he said and nodded toward Spike.

Spike looked at Buffy, "I told Clem he shouldn’t come back…for now," he said.

Buffy just looked at both of them as reality crashed down on her head. Shaking herself out of her thoughts after a couple of seconds, she said, "You’re right. Of course. You shouldn’t come back…for now," then added, "maybe another time, after…"

"Sure Buffy, I’d love to," Clem said.

He looked at them sadly, "Why don’t you guys just stay here with me? I’ll go get the others, they can all come up here, can’t they?"

Buffy shook her head, "I wish it were that simple, Clem, I’d love to stay here, bring everybody I love here, keep them safe, but it doesn’t work that way..." she said, sadly.

"Why Buffy, why can’t you just stay here?" Clem asked again, a pleading look in his eyes.

"You know why, Clem, I know you do," she said, "because it’s my job, my calling to fight The First. If I don’t who will? Do you think we’d be safe here if I don’t fight him? This is the original evil we’re talking of here, not just some bad-ass demon."

"I know Buffy, I know," Clem said, his eyes getting all teary.

Spike hadn’t said anything, but took Buffy’s hand under the table, giving it a squeeze.

He cleared his throat, "Gonna fight, gonna win…for all the puppies…and the rest of us, too…" he said, looking at Buffy and Clem, as he tried to make a half-hearted joke.

They nodded and went back to eating their stew in silence.

After lunch, Spike got up and poured them all the remainder of the last bottle of champagne and they toasted, "To puppies," Spike said, "and the rest of us," he added.

They drank and then Clem got up, "Well, guess I’d better be going. I’ll take care of what you asked me to, Spike," he said.

Spike nodded, and Buffy looked at them questioningly.

"Just to close up the place…for now, stuff…" he said to her.

"Oh," she said, letting it drop.

"Guys want me to clean up before I go?" Clem asked.

"That’s alright," Spike answered.

"Then I’ll do it later, ok?"

"Okay," Spike said, nodding.

They walked Clem to the front door.

"Well, goodbye, you two," Clem said.

"Bye, Clem," Buffy said, "you’re a good friend."

Spike nodded, "Yeah, you take care, mate!"

Clem grabbed them suddenly in his loose skinned arms and brought them together in a big hug, "You two take care now, you hear me?" he asked.

Buffy and Spike nodded, as they couldn’t much move anything other than their heads in his strong grip, but Spike felt the lock box inside of Clem’s shirt.

And then he was gone, out the door in a flash of speed Buffy had never seen from him before.

Spike slowly closed the door, watching his friend’s back, as he ran up the trail.

He turned around and took Buffy in his arms and held her tight.

END CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37 - LIKE OLD MARRIEDS

"What time is it?" she asked Spike, looking out at the sun, which now seemed to be low in the sky.

"Dunno, pet," he answered.

"Oh, bugger it!" he exclaimed, suddenly.

"What?"

"Suppose we ought to check with home anyway," Spike said, going to get the phone and modem.

She walked over to the couch and sat down as Spike dialed up.

"It's three-thirty," he said, handing her the laptop.

"Already?" she asked, surprised the day had gone by so quickly.

"Yeah," he answered, sadly, as he put his arm around her.

She took the laptop and looked at all the different live-cam scenes. She laughed at Andrew when the camera spotted him, trying to hide something in the back of the freezer.

Spike looked over her shoulder and snorted, "Wanker!"

"Poor Andrew, a fish out of water," she said.

"Yeah, he’s a fish out of something alright!"

"I know," Buffy said, "A Fish Called Andrew!"

Spike rolled his eyes.

"Oh, there’s Willow!" Bufff said.

Wicca 1: Buffy?

Slayer 1: hi, Will

Wicca 1: what’s up?

Slayer 1: just finished lunch

Wicca1: late lunch

Slayer1: had a late breakfast, too

Wicca 1: slept in late, huh?

Slayer 1: needed my beauty rest

Wicca 1: I bet…

Slayer 1: no comment…

Wicca 1: is your beauty rest named Spike, by any chance

Slayer 1: might be

Wicca 1: ROTF

Slayer 1: STOP!

Wicca 1: ok, ok…

Wicca 1: "Oh Spike, I love your wicked energy"

Spike was reading over his shoulder, shaking his head, "Tell Red, I’m going to do more than snark at her if she doesn’t quit!"

Slayer 1: Spike says hello and that he’s going to bite you

Wicca1: tell him I’m so scared. Hi Big Bad!

Spike turned away, "Glad to know I’m so scary."

Buffy patted his arm, "You are honey, Willow’s just having fun."

"Yeah, well, she won’t be having fun, when I decide to have her for lunch tomorrow!" Spike said, indignantly.

Buffy turned back to the screen.

Slayer1: Is Xander there?

Wicca1: yeah, want to talk to him

Slayer1: please

She waited a few minutes until Xander came on.

Carpenter1: hey Buff, how's it goin'?

Slayer1: great! what about you?

Carpenter1: fine, all quiet, that’s a good thing

Carpenter1: how's vamp boy treating you

Slayer1: really well, no worries, okay?

"Carpenter1? he should call himself ‘Whelp1’," Spike snickered.

"Spike!" Buffy said, defending her friend and elbowing him hard in the side.

"Ouch!"

Slayer1: Spike says to tell you hello

Carpenter1: yeah, sure he does, tell him I also don’t say to tell him hello

Spike laughed and Buffy just shook her head.

Carpenter1: what's up?

Slayer1: need you to do a favor, big favor

Carpenter1: sure, what?

Slayer1: need you to take on some roomies

Carpenter1: who? whom? how many?

Slayer: about 4 or 5, same number of girls sleeping on my bedroom floor

Slayer1: Xander?

Carpenter1: sure, but can I ask you why?

Slayer1: because I need to have my life working for me, in order to do my job

Carpenter1: SPIKE? and Spike's a part of that plan?

Slayer1: yes, in part, a big part

Carpenter1: BUFFY! NO!

"That Whelp! Who does he think he is?" Spike asked angrily, "I’d like to once just give him a good thrashing!

"Stop! Not helping. You know he’s just looking out for me, however, misdirected that is at times," Buffy said, trying to diffuse him.

Spike laughed bitterly, but he knew she was telling the truth, just the Whelp and Giles never, ever cut him a break, no matter what he’d done.

Suddenly he stopped and turned to her, "You want me to sleep in your bedroom with you when we go back?" he asked, stunned.

"What did you think? That I was going to make you sleep in the basement, pretend that this," she motioned to them both, "never happened?"

Spike shrugged, "Didn’t know if you’d think it was best, luv, that’s all," he said, his heart swelling, as he realized what a step this was for Buffy to take. Not only to have trusted him this weekend, given him all her love; but for her to take their relationship back to Sunnydale, back to the cold, hard reality of not only the fight, but the scrutiny and surely the disdain of those that were closest to her.

"Willow, do you see that?" Xander said, "she wants me to take some of the girls to my place so she can move vamp-boy into her bedroom. Can’t believe she would ever let him do that, be with him again…" he went on, just as Giles entered the room.

Giles walked over to the computer screen just as Buffy’s message appeared.

Slayer1: YES! and I can't, won’t apologize for that, for Spike, for loving him anymore! I do love Spike, I know that now and I'm sorry if that hurts you or disturbs you or Giles or anyone else, I really am, AND I know where your concern is coming from, but it’s NOT valid anymore

Carpenter1: how can you be sure?

Slayer1: because I am, and that’s what counts!

Carpenter1: I see

Slayer1: will you do this favor for me?

Carpenter: sure, whatever

Xander got up with disgust from the computer, "I don’t understand her," he complained to Giles.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Giles said, glaring at Willow.

Slayer1: Xander?

Wicca1: he’s gone Buffy

Slayer1: I see

Wicca1: if it’s any consolation, I support you Buffy

Slayer1: thanks, Will

Wicca1: if you love Spike and he loves you, then I don’t see why you two shouldn’t be together, why wouldn’t you?

Slayer1: I can’t think of any good reasons

Buffy looked at Spike, who seemed to be staring off toward the fireplace, deep in thought.

He looked over at her, then at the screen, "You’re amazing, do you know that, my heart?" he said, his voice full of emotion.

She looked at him, staring at her with all this limitless love that she’d denied existed, denied herself, denied feeling back, and was filled with regret that it had taken them, her especially, so long to come to this point.

Slayer1: I’ll see you later Willow, and thanks, you’re the only one there who seems to understand

Wicca1: I do, I know what it feels like to be in love, think there are others who will support you, too

Slayer1: it would be nice, but if not, I’ll survive, always do

Slayer1: bye, Will, see you tonight

Wicca1: bye Buffy, see you soon

Willow logged off the computer.

"I don’t know how you can support, even encourage Buffy in this ‘relationship,’ with Spike!" Giles said, angrily.

"Number one, Giles," Willow said, cooly, "I didn’t encourage anything, but I do support whatever ‘personal,’ decisions Buffy makes about her lovelife, even if it’s with Spike! He’s not evil anymore, but you guys just won’t see that," she turned around, looking accusingly at both Xander and Giles.

"Numbe two," she continued, "I can’t see how you won’t support her. If she’s happy, even for a while, why can’t you just be happy for her? Doesn’t she deserve this little; this much?" Willow asked.

"I’ll do whatever Buffy asks, Willow, you know I will," Xander said, "but if Spike ever hurts her or anyone else here, then I….well, I just wouldn’t be surprised is all."

"That’s all she’s asking, is that you give him a chance, a little trust. I think Spike’s earned it, even when he was killing again, it wasn’t him, it was The First triggering him."

"And how do we know that’s not going to happen again?" Giles asked, "instead of sleeping chained up, like he should until we figure this thing out, he’ll be sleeping right with Buffy, able to kill her in her sleep!"

Xander shuddered.

"I don’t think that will happen. If he get’s triggered again, we’ll deal, Buffy will deal, as painful as that may be, she will do what’s right, you know she will, Giles!" Willow said.

"I hope so, Willow, I hope she will be able to do what she has to, if it comes down to that," Giles said, shaking his head.

"She will, Giles, she will. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt you guys, and it would help decrease the stress Buffy already feels; already felt before she almost got killed the other night, if you guys just accept this. Otherwise, all you’ll do is create a rift between all of you and what ‘greater good’ purpose would that serve?" she asked, accusingly, looking at Giles.

Buffy handed the computer and phone to Spike and he shut them down.

"Maybe it isn’t such a good idea for me to sleep in your bed, Buffy. What if The First does decide to trigger me, again, right when I’m there with you? Maybe that’s when he’ll decide that it’s time for me," Spike said.

Buffy shrugged, "I don’t know, Spike. I guess we’ll take it a day at a time. In any case, I need to know that you can come to me at night, if you want, if I want. And I do want you, Spike, need you with me, need your love, your strength…" she said, looking at him.

"You know I’m yours, Buffy," Spike said, "anytime, anywhere, forever."

He hesitated, "But Buffy, you know things will be different when we go back, luv," Spike said.

Buffy nodded, "Yeah, I’ll have to be General Buffy. Might even have to bust your chops, again," she said, regretfully.

"You do what you have to do," Spike said, "and if that happens, I’ll understand that it’s your job, your calling, that makes it necessary; and, if you don’t want me in your bed one night, or any nights…well, I still have the cot downstairs, right?" Spike asked.

Buffy kissed his neck, "Don’t want to fight with you again, Spike, ever! Not saying we never will, but it will never mean that I don’t love you, that I won’t continue to love you…always. Do you understand that Spike?" Buffy asked, looking at him.

He nodded, "Yes, I do, Buffy. It means that we’re a couple, just like old marrieds, and sometimes we’ll fight, but unlike old marrieds, we get to make love and make-up," he said, venturing a smile.

Relived, she nodded her agreement, as she melted once more into his hard body and softest heart, and allowed him to carry her into the bedroom for that make love and pre-make-up he was talking about.

Their pleasure was no less great, for the fact that this time, they made love gently to each other; as if it were their first time, instead of their last, in this house...for now.

Afterward, they lay in each other's arms, looking at each other, stroking each other’s faces, running their fingers through each others hair, and rubbing each other’s backs, in mutual giving and receiving. Their hands, once again, came together over the necklace, tracing the lovebirds that symbolized their feelings for each other.

END CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38 - FACING FORWARD AND THE FUTURE

It was dusk when they finally, without words, got up and dressed.

Buffy went to her 'room' to pack her things that were partly, still there.

Spike went around, picking up odds and ends, putting glasses in the sink, straightening his desk, making sure the fireplace was out. He knew Clem would be over later or tomorrow to close up the house, but he still felt a responsibility to do these things, a need to have a claim to this house, which he would, now and forever, always feel differently about.

Buffy took the all the drawings, except for one, that Spike had drawn and put them carefully in between a magazine cover she had brought with her. She then carefully put them on the bottom of her suitcase, clothes on top. Silently, she thanked her mom for having bought her one good piece of hard luggage years ago.

She went into Spike’s bedroom and placed the picture of her sleeping; a serene look on her face, naked, necklace between her breasts, on her pillow.

She then took the purple velvet box and opened it. She carefully took off the necklace, lovingly giving it a kiss. With tears in her eyes, she gently placed it inside the box and closed the lid, putting it between their pillows.

She walked to the bedroom door, "We’ll come back here!" she whispered as took one, last, look back.

Spike was waiting for her near the door, "You ready?" he asked her?

She nodded, starting to get her coat.

All of a sudden, his hand went up to her neck, a hurt look filled his eyes.

"Why?" he said, pain in his voice.

Tears sprang to her eyes, "I can’t, can’t take it with me! Don’t you see? If I do and it gets torn from me in a fight, or lost in the house…"

She put her arms around Spike, "I love that necklace, Spike, I love it! Love that YOU gave it to me, love what it stands for, I just can’t bear to see it hurt…" she said, crying into his neck, "can’t stand for it to be any less than it is now!"

He hugged her back, hard, "I’m sorry, luv! I understand, really I do, it’s just when I saw you without it…I’m such a ponce, sometimes!" he said, trying to smile.

"Spike, I want my necklace back!" Buffy said, "and when, not if, but when I come back here, I’m going to put that necklace back on and I’m never, ever going to take it off again!"

"God, I love you so much, Buffy," Spike said, a lump rising in his throat.

He then took a step away, and bent down, taking something out of his backpack.

"No, you don’t have to do that!" Buffy cried, when she saw what he had in his hand.

"No, you’re right, these things are too precious to take back…for now. They belong here, together…until we come back for them, together!" he said, holding the Complete Works of Shakespeare book she had given him.

She just shook her head, crying.

"Now, now, none of that," he said, soothingly to her, "where’d you put it?" he asked.

She walked over to Spike’s bedroom, as he followed her.

He walked over to the bed, a lump rising in his throat as he saw the drawing of her on her pillow. He carefully lifted the purple velvet box up and placed the book underneath it.

He turned back to see her framed in the door and nodded.

Spike walked up to her and gently kissing her, "We’ll come back here!" he said.

Buffy nodded, "We’ll come back here!" she repeated.

He took her hand, and they walked back to the door. He picked up her luggage and his and they went out into the night.

As they drove off, she turned around and took one last look back at the house, "We’ll come back here!" she said to herself, then turned around, facing forward and the future.

THE END…FOR NOW

CONTINUE ON TO SEQUEL -

ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES

FEEDBACK

Note to Readers:

Thank you all so much for reading my story. I’ve appreciated all your feedback and patience in waiting while I finished this.

I love the characters of Buffy and Spike, if you haven’t already guessed, and I am planning on doing a sequel to this story, once they series has ended *gulp, gulp*.

I know that these characters want a place where they can be themselves and lead somewhat of a normal life, what better place, than this wonderful house, that William built in Julian?

So, stay tuned, no matter what happens in Jossverse, I’ll figure a way for them to find their way back to the house and each other.

Sincerely,

Serene (aka spikealicious)

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