Buffy ran up the stairs, into the bedroom and quickly shut and locked the door behind her.  Laughing, she started throwing off her clothes and kicking off her shoes. 

She heard Spike hit the door and yell, “OI! Hard to get your reward with the door locked, luv.”

“Just a minute!” she sing-songed at him.

She turned to light some more candles before letting him in (better to see that hot bod with!) and noticed the empty drawers and her bag on top of the dresser. 

God, how SWEET is that?  she thought. I didn’t even have to ask him. When did he have time to do that? 

Suddenly a warm feeling washed over her as memories of the last twenty-four hours (Was that all it had been? Actually, a bit more than that now) swept through her mind:

            Spike holding her on the stone floor as she sobbed for Angel,

            Spike defending her honor with Xander,

            Spike comforting her with a soft lullaby,

            Spike being the perfect gentleman until she had pressed him for more,

            Angelus’ words ‘Our William always was the sensitive one’. 

Sensitive, a word she would have never associated with Spike, but there it was, proof to the contrary, he could be tender and she loved that, it made her feel safe and warm and . . .  God, when did I get all mushy?  Didn't I have enough mush with Angel? And look what that got me!  Note to self: Mushy, gooey feelings are BAD.  No mushing, no goo-ing, no ga-ga, all these things led to badness.

Spike banging on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. “OI, Slayer, you want me to break this door down?”

Buffy walked over to the door and opened it to find him standing outside, also stripped naked.  He took her breath away and she would’ve taken his away, if he’d actually needed breath in the first place.  They stood for just a moment, not moving, just taking each other in before he moved to her and took her in his arms and started a slow, sensuous kiss. 

Their bodies molded together perfectly, their lips testing, tasting, exploring the other’s.  He pulled away to look into her eyes, she looked different somehow, he cocked his head just so to consider what it was for a moment and was about to give up when she leaned in and raised up on her toes to whisper in his ear, “Make love to me, William.”

He drew her back to look in her eyes again.  She didn’t say “Fuck Me, Spike” or “Eat my Pussy” or “Make me cum” or “Teach me to be slutty." She said, “Make love to me . . . William.”   She said it like he was a man, not a monster.  Like he was her man, her lover and that she was his.

Never taking his eyes off her, he reached back and closed and locked the door behind him before leaning down to sweep her into his arms, her arms around his neck, her head against his hard chest.  He laid her gently on the bed, as if she were made of porcelain and would break with the slightest pressure.  Climbing between her legs, his body held up over her by his strong arms, as he lowered his lips to hers in a kiss so gentle and slow and sexy that it sent a warm flush all across her body and chill bumps all over her skin. 

He moved from her lips to the tender spot behind her ear and trailed his tongue down her neck to her shoulder where he lingered over her pulse point, sucking and nibbling at it as Buffy let out small moans and her body shuddered under him.  Moving his mouth down further with feather kisses, he stopped at one hard nipple to ring it with his cool tongue before moving to the other to do the same, causing Buffy to arch her back and press harder against him.

“Oh, baby, God that feels so good,” she moaned. Her hands were on his back moving lightly over his skin and then to his head to tangle in his soft curls as he continued his exploration of her body with his mouth.

“So beautiful,” he murmured.

Buffy pulled him back up to her mouth. “Please, baby, I need you.” 

He took her mouth with his again and dropped his hips to position his cock at the entrance to her wet, heavenly pussy.  She tilted her hips and wrapped her legs around his as they slowly moved together, one lifting, one descending, until he filled her completely.  They both stopped moving, just letting the feeling of being one, of melding together like they were made for each other, overtake them.

“Buffy,” he murmured in her ear.

“William,” she murmured back as she clung to him, never wanting to let this feeling end.

Slowly, Spike started pulling out and just as gently pushing back in as she matched his slow pace and raised and lowered her hips with his.  His mouth was back on hers as they started to increase the pace of their love making.

**~**                                                                                               

The men still watched and waited, through their magicks and through time, as the warriors joined again.

“The time is now,” announced the elder of the men and they began the incantation, a blessing, to create the vessel for the Key which will be created from the joining of the seed of the great warriors as they lay together in love, as the prophecy foretold.

**~**

Buffy and Spike climaxed together, each writhing and moaning in the pleasure that built so slowly but took them so high. 

Spike could have sworn he felt his heart beat, felt the need for oxygen, felt heat come from within him for those few seconds as he spilled his seed into Buffy’s hot, tight womanhood.  Buffy swore she saw stars dancing around them when she came, pulling Spike into her with all her strength, squeezing him inside with a climax the likes of which she’d never felt before.  She wished she could get more oxygen, it strangely seemed that Spike was breathing more than his fair share at that point, which granted, his fair share was none, but he seemed to be taking all the air out of the room. 

The thought occurred to her that she was going to pass out from the lack of air and the unbelievable pleasure that was zinging through her entire body. She felt like she’d been hit by 10,000 volts of electricity – not in the “Ole Sparky” way, of course, but in a way that made her whole body hum and every nerve ending light up with pleasure. 

“I love you,” escaped her lips before she blacked out.

I love you, Spike was sure he’d heard it, but when he looked at Buffy her eyes were closed, her pulse was slow and steady. She had fainted!  He knew he was good, but never imagined he could make the Slayer faint from cumming!  He smiled to himself, Big Bad is still in the house!

Spike put his hand over his heart – nothing – of course not, crazy vampire, your heart doesn’t beat any more, but he could have sworn he felt . . . something . . . and he was hot – all over hot, not just hot where he was touching Buffy, but everywhere.  Could she warm him so thoroughly?  Possible, he guessed. Not bloody likely, but possible. 

His mind went back to her words, I love you.  Had she meant it for him?  Or was she thinking of Angel again?  Without her conscious to question, to look into her eyes, he couldn’t be sure.  What if it was for him? What if she really loved him?  No, certainly it wasn’t possible, she was probably thinking about Angel, the bloody wanker.  He’d just have to wait and see if she said it again, then he could tell, if he could just look in her eyes.

Just then, Buffy’s eyes flickered open.  “Wha . . . What happened?”

“You fainted, luv.”

“Fainted?  I don’t faint!  That’s . . . That’s for Victorian ladies whose corsets are pulled too tight! The Slayer doesn’t faint!”

“Guess Big Bad is just too much for you, pet.” Spike smiled at her and ran his tongue along his teeth.

“Oh PLEASE, it’s because you with all your unnecessary breathing sucked all the air out of the room!”

“My what?!”

“Breathing!  You were breathing harder than I was.  Why do you do that?  And . . . and you’re hot!  When did you get so hot?”  Buffy was looking at him now with concern and confusion.

Spike was just wondering the same thing himself, but he didn’t want to let her think anything was wrong, not after what he just thought he heard her say.

“You make me hot, luv,”  he tried to make light of it.

“Hmmm, yeah?”  She smiled coyly up at him.

“Bloody right.”  And he kissed her, effectively stopping the conversation. Sliding off onto his side, he pulled her to him, her back to his chest, and spooned around her, holding her middle with a strong arm.  She snuggled against him and they were both asleep almost immediately. 

**~**                                                               

Buffy awoke slowly, she’d slept a peaceful, dreamless sleep – Thank God for that small favor, she thought.  She was really getting tired of the Demon sucking Angel to hell dream which had been a recurring theme of late. 

She rolled over to find Spike, but the bed was empty. “Spike?” No answer. 

Maybe he went to the bathroom or something, she thought, and lay awake to wait for him to return.   When he hadn’t returned after what she thought was plenty long enough even for her to shower, she got up, pulled on one of his T-shirts and went out in the hall.

“Spike?” she called again and listened.  No answer.  She concentrated on feeling him with her Spidey senses – nothing. 

She walked down to the bathroom and opened the door.  Not there.  She walked down stairs, he wasn’t by the TV, she explored further and found the kitchen. Opening the fridge she suddenly felt hungry, but the only thing in it was blood.  Blood!  She had forgotten to ask Willow earlier if they had gotten that for Spike, she would need to pay her for it and thank her for doing that when she saw her tomorrow . . . or today . .  . Why didn’t vampires have any clocks in their lairs, anyway?  She searched the kitchen. Of course, the clock on the microwave on the counter was flashing 12:00 . . . maybe they didn’t know how to SET the clocks, she mused silently.

Ok, this is not finding Spike. She needed to focus.  Where else would he be?  She called him again and was again met with silence.  A bad feeling started to come over her, a really bad case of déjà vu. 

What if all that breathing and hotness was a sign? What if he's lost his soul and gone "Angelus" on me?  Had Angel gotten hot like that?  God, she couldn’t remember.  Why can't I remember that? What if Spike is killing all my friends right now?  She asked him to make LOVE to her, she told him she loved him tonight, out loud, with the actual words and everything! Why did I do that? Mush is bad!  Hadn't I just established that mush is bad? Maybe that’s what set it off. Oh God, what have I done!? 

In a state of near hysteria, Buffy ran back up stairs and pulled on her jeans and shoes.  She dug hastily through her bag, retrieved "Mr. Pointy", her trusted stake, and headed back down. She had just started through the heavy curtains covering the door when she ran head long into Spike. They both tumbled to the ground.

“Bloody hell, Slayer! What are you on about now!?  Some new beastie in town needin’ your attention all quick like?”

Buffy leapt back up and tackled him, pinning him under her before he could move off the ground where he had sprawled.  She held the stake at his heart, pressing dangerously against his chest. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Slayer?! Have you lost your fucking mind?”  Spike lay still under her, not breathing, not moving, hands outstretched in surrender.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

“Out.”  What the hell is she on about!? 

“Out WHERE!?  What. Have. You. Done?  TELL ME WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”  She was close to panic now, tears starting down her face as she held a stake to the heart of yet another vampire that she had trusted.

“Buffy,” Spike kept his voice as calm as he could manage, “I thought you would be peckish, I went to get some food for you, luv.  Look!  Look by the door where you hit me – I got pizza and some Cokes.”  He motioned with one arm towards the now dropped food.

Buffy looked where he indicated and saw the food. "You didn't kill the delivery boy to get it, did you?"

"Nooo, I paid for it with cold, hard cash money." 

Oh God . . . Oh Thank God . . .

"Spike, I . . . I’m sorry, I got so scared when you were gone . . . it was like . . . just like . . . ”

She didn’t have to finish, he knew what it was just like. Angelus.  She dropped the stake and collapsed on him, sobbing in relief.  He drew her into his arms, just like he’d done that first night, and held her. 

“Buffy, it’s ok, luv. Shhh, it’s ok.  Everything’s ok, pet.  I’m sorry I scared you.  Buffy.  Buffy, look at me, luv.” 

She lifted her face to his, to look into his eyes.  Not the cold, mocking eyes of Angelus, but the soft, loving eyes of William, of Spike, looked back at her. “I’m not Angel.  I’ll never hurt you.”

Buffy nodded. “Do you promise?” she choked out through her sobs.

“I do, I promise.”

“Please don’t leave me, promise you won’t leave me, Spike.  I don’t think I could take it ... not again.”  Her sobs had subsided; she started wiping her tears from her face with her fingers.

Spike kissed the dampness from her fingers and the remaining tears from her eyes. “Buffy, I promise I won’t hurt you, I could never leave you, pet.  I think ... I think I love you.”

“I think I love you, too, Spike.”  It was barely a whisper from Buffy. Where had that come from? Buffy bit her bottom lip and suddenly wished she hadn't said that out loud. She prayed silently for time to rewind, for a redo or for the Hellmouth to swallow her up; none of those things happened. Why didn't she just tell him he was moving too fast - that he needed to take it down a notch? This wasn't some great romance, Romeo and Juliet ... it wasn't love at first sight ... it was just sex. She wasn't looking for love - she didn't want love, and she most certainly didn't need the heartache it threatened. Declaring your love to another vampire? Really, Buffy? Is this some kind of Slayer obsession or are you just completely insane?

She'd come here, to Spike, in defiance of her friends, her Watcher, her mother. She'd just sent Angel to hell - she'd killed the man she loved ... who she thought loved her, to save the world and all she wanted was to get that off her mind, to do something for herself for a change. Something crazy, irresponsible, something girly ... 'seventeen hormone-charged girl' girly; something that didn't involve saving anyone or fulfilling her Calling - something to assure herself that she was still alive, still human - not a killer, not a monster or a murderer. She desperately needed something to prove that a heart did still beat within her ... somewhere ... somewhere she still had some capacity to feel ... and, oh God, to love again.  She shook her head as tears welled anew in her eyes ... is that really what she'd come here for after all? To find love? Was this some sick, twisted Romeo and Juliet? Star-crossed lovers ... was that how this would end, as well? Just as she and Angel had ended so tragically?

Spike pulled back to look into her eyes. His head tilted in just that certain way that was so Spike, his brows knit together in a question. “What’d’ you say?”

Buffy raised one hand up to his face, tracing over the scar on his brow with one finger before cupping his cheek with her hand. Buffy shook her head sadly as she gazed into the blue depths of his eyes. Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it ... look out Romeo and Juliet, make way for Spike and Buffy. She took a deep breath as if preparing to jump off the high dive ... then she leapt, feet first, into the abyss.  “I said, ‘I think I love you, too’, you stupid vampire.  I thought vampires had super hearing.”

Spike’s face lit up, a rakish grin spread over his mouth, his eyes danced with the joy of her. 

So, it wasn’t Angel she was talking to earlier, after all.

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