A few hours after rescuing Spike from Glory:

Spike’s eyes fluttered open and he tried to figure out where he was. It was dark; only a small sliver of light cut the blackness above him, although he couldn’t immediately suss out the source of it. He was laying on something soft and there was something warm pressed against his side. He tried to focus, but his eyes fell closed again.

Spike wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep. He remembered Buffy kissing him so softly that her lips felt like a warm breeze fluttering against his mouth. Then he remembered her coming back with the bandages, and her warm hands on his skin, gentle and caring, followed by cool water as she washed the blood off and bandaged his wounds. After that he felt like he had floated away in a sea of darkness. He couldn’t get his mind to focus or keep his one semi-working eye open any longer. He remembered her soft words in his ear telling him to rest, to sleep, and he gave up trying to fight the fatigue and pain and just let himself do as she said.

Spike tried again, forcing his eyes open and willing them to focus. He was in a bed, he realized … his bed in the crypt? No. Buffy’s bed. He blinked his eyes and looked around. Something dark and heavy was draped over the window, blocking out most of the light. It was sunny outside. He wondered again how long he’d slept – one night or more? The warmth next to him, he realized with genuine surprise, was Buffy. She was curled against him but not so tightly that she would press against his mangled ribs. One small hand rested against his shoulder, her head was on the pillow next to his, her face was very close.

Spike turned his head on the pillow and watched her sleep. Her chest rose and fell in an easy rhythm of gentle breath and her face was a study in calm. All the stress and worry that creased her features when she was awake was gone. It struck him how young she looked. Too young to be going through everything that life had piled atop her.

Spike gingerly turned onto his side, suppressing a moan of pain when he did so, to look directly into her face. Buffy shifted slightly, but didn’t awaken when he moved. He raised a hand and stroked her hair gently, taking great care not to wake her. Emotions welled up inside him, threatening to burst his chest. He wanted to do nothing more than protect her, to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe forever. He wanted to keep the worry and stress away from her, to keep all the dangers in the world away from her. He wanted to hear her laugh, wanted to see her happy, and he wanted more than anything to be a man worthy of her.

“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered to her sleeping form. Despite the rule he'd set for himself to let her come to him, he was unable to stop the words as they slipped from his lips, seemingly of their own free will.

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open and met his across the short distance that separated their faces. She looked at him quizzically. Spike wasn’t sure if she’d heard his words or not. Part of him hoped not; the other part hoped she had. He dared not say it again.

Buffy raised a hand to his cheek, carefully avoiding the gash there, then slid it back behind his neck as she moved her lips to his. Her lips touched his softly, afraid of causing him discomfort, but Spike pressed his mouth to hers urgently. Pain shot out from his split and bruised lip, but he pushed it aside as unimportant. All he could feel was Buffy’s warm, soft mouth against his. Her tongue darted out and pressed between his lips. Spike welcomed her into him, wrapping his tongue around hers in a silent dance as he pulled her body closer to his.

When her chest pressed against his, he was unable to stop the gasp of pain. Buffy pulled back immediately, sorrow and concern now showing in her eyes where a moment before there had been only desire.

“Sorry, pet,” Spike whispered, trying to get the stabbing sensation to stop shooting out from the hole that Glory had dug into his sternum. “Reckon your trip to the dark side’ll have to wait a bit.”

“Shhhhh…” Buffy whispered, laying a finger softly on his lips. “Then let me bring you into the light,” she offered, pressing him gently by one shoulder so he rolled onto his back.

Spike looked at her, unsure what she was talking about, but didn’t move. He watched her toss the covers off them and begin to pull her shirt off.

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “You don’t have to do this,” he contended. “I’ll still protect Dawn with my life, no matter what.”

“I know that. That’s not why I’m doing it,” Buffy assured him. “Come into the light with me, Spike.”

Spike furrowed his brows, still not understanding her, but released the hold he had on her wrist. Buffy continued her motion and pulled her shirt off. She had nothing on beneath it and Spike’s unneeded breath caught in his throat. He reached a hand out and touched her breast, ghosting his cool fingers over her hot flesh. Her nipples hardened into tight buttons under his touch and he longed to kiss them, but couldn’t sit up without more stabbing pains shooting through him. So he settled for using his long, lithe fingers to tease them, running them ‘round and ‘round first one soft pink areola then the other.

Buffy gasped and closed her eyes a moment as goose-flesh appeared on her skin. The little tingling bumps followed Spike’s touch, then spread out to cover her entire body. Her pussy throbbed in need and her whole body prickled in glorious anticipation. An involuntary shiver ran through her and her teeth actually clattered together a few times before she could pull her lips between them to stop the chattering.

“So beautiful you are, Buffy,” Spike murmured, his eyes unable to move from her firm, round breasts and hard nipples as he teased and fondled them gently. "More beautiful than I ever imagined."

Buffy took a deep breath and grudgingly slid away, out of his reach. At the end of the bed she stood up and slid her shorts off, dropping them to the floor as Spike watched her, enthralled. Her body was more magnificent than Spike had imagined in his wildest dreams. Golden-tan skin covered toned muscles and soft curves. Her flat stomach gave way to a small triangle of neatly trimmed dark curls and, even from this distance, he could smell the sweet aroma of her desire.

He watched as she climbed back onto the bed, crawling on hands and knees above him until she reached his belt. She sat back on her heels and began to unfasten it. Her movements were slow and deliberate as she let his belt fall open and then unbuttoned his jeans. When her hand brushed against his erection, he gasped and his eyes fluttered closed involuntarily. How long had he dreamed of this moment? He fought to keep control of himself – he didn’t need to do something very git-ish and ruin this before it even got started.

He felt her move off the bed again and realized that she needed him to lift his hips so she could tug his pants off. He did so and she pulled on the legs of his jeans, sliding them down and finally off his body.

Buffy bit her bottom lip as she took in Spike’s naked body. Except for the wounds Glory had inflicted upon him, his skin was smooth and creamy white. The lines of his body were sharp, angular, and hard, just like those of his face. His muscles were strong and well defined, but not overbearing. He had the body of a runner or a swimmer, not of a hard-core bodybuilder – slim but powerful.

His chest was smooth and sculpted, giving the impression that he was a finely-made, marble statue come to life. His firm pectoral muscles called to her, making her palms itch to touch them. His arms reflected the strength that Buffy knew he possessed. The hard ball of deltoid muscle gave way to equally impressive biceps, which contracted into impressive mounds of solid flesh when he moved.  Rounding out his Greek-god-like upper-arms, his triceps undulated gracefully as he shifted ever so slightly on the bed. She knew how good those arms felt wrapped around her, even through his duster. She couldn’t wait to have them holding her like this: au naturel.

Her eyes drifted down to his hands. Yes, she’d seen them many times.  She’d been hit by those rock-hard fists more than once, and had seen them wreak havoc on all manner of baddie, but they looked different to her now.

His fingers were long and graceful, and for some reason she thought they should belong to a dancer … or maybe a musician. His pinky, she noticed for the first time, seemed extraordinarily long, nearly as long as his ring finger. What an odd thing to notice. Silver rings glinted from more than one of his fingers. They seemed an odd contrast to the chipped, dull, black polish on his chewed-to-the-quick nails. She imagined those hands on her body, touching her skin, caressing her heated flesh. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought.

Her eyes glided back to his torso where the classic V-shape of his upper-body gave way to a slim, flat stomach. His abdomen was adorned with a chiseled six-pack of muscles, and Buffy could only imagine how good they would feel pressed against her – hard and powerful.

Between his hipbones was another ‘V’ which, although smaller, mimicked that of his torso. It seemed to add a sort of masculine symmetry to his body. Beneath his bellybutton there was a thin line of dark hair which tickled down the middle of that second ‘V’. The wispy, dark trail led her eye to a larger patch of dark curls that surrounded his cock. 

Buffy’s chest heaved with desire as she took in his hardness, which stood proud against the tight, flat muscles of his stomach. It was as she’d imagined, and as Spike had claimed – no soft, wooden stake could hold a candle to it. Dark visions of what that body, what that cock, could do to her swam through her mind. In that moment she wanted nothing more than to have Spike show her the darkness – let her touch it, let her run free inside it.

She took several deep breaths and reminded herself that now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time to be gentle and caring and pray to God that he could, as the Guide had told her he must, join her in the light. Spike had done many things recently that told her that he could, but would he want to? Would it be enough for him?

Buffy swallowed hard and started back up the bed, crawling on all fours over his prone body. She dropped kisses along his legs as she went, warm and wet against his cool, soft skin. Spike’s muscles jerked and trembled under her lips. A thrill tingled up his spine as she worked her way higher. Her long hair draped over her shoulder like a silken veil and caressed his skin as she moved. Her golden tresses felt like a million magical rays of sunlight warming him as she wandered slowly up his body, and again Spike had to fight to maintain control of himself.

A guttural moan escaped Spike’s lips as she moved up. Then her lips were dropping their soft caress onto his hipbone and her hair was raking over his cock. His hips jerked up of their own accord and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her and dragging her lips up to his. Buffy fought to keep her body from resting atop his bruised and battered torso, supporting herself on her arms and knees as Spike pulled her forward. Then his lips were on hers, soft and demanding at once. His tongue delved into her mouth, tasting her, twirling around hers, devouring her.

“Need you, Buffy,” Spike moaned against her lips as he continued kissing her fervently.

“God, Spike … I need you too,” Buffy murmured back to him.

Spike released her lips and carefully slid down in the bed, pulling her up at the same time until her head was against the headboard and her breasts were above his mouth. He pulled her down to him, capturing one hard nipple with his lips and swirling his tongue around it as he fondled her other firm tit with those magical fingers.

Buffy’s back arched and she tossed her head back in bliss as he kissed and suckled her sensitive skin. His teeth raked across her nipples, nibbling on first one hard nubbin, then the other.

“Oh God, Spike,” Buffy moaned as her body shuddered in delight under his touch. She could imagine him biting her harder … imagine the demon’s fangs pricking her skin, drawing blood. She trembled with desire as the darkness within her fought to escape the prison it had been in for so long.

“Cum for me, Buffy,” Spike purred against her heated skin as his hand found her wet folds and a long, slender finger ghosted over her clit.

A scream escaped her throat – she didn’t even try to stop it, she no longer cared who heard. Dawn was at school and the nosy neighbors could just draw their own conclusions. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t heard all sorts of strange noises coming from her house before.

A small wave of bliss rolled over her as Spike’s lips and teeth made love to her breasts and his hand teased her slick, wet pussy.

“Yes, Slayer … scream for me,” Spike growled against her hot skin as Buffy panted and shuddered above him. Another wave of bliss broke over her as he pressed his finger into her throbbing hole, teasing her clit with his thumb. Buffy obliged him willingly with another sharp gasp and a short but deafening scream of pleasure.

Buffy couldn’t wait any longer; she not only wanted him, she needed him inside her. She couldn’t remember ever needing anyone so desperately – not even Angel. She wanted to scream as Spike had promised her – until she couldn’t talk. She wanted her legs to turn to jelly and her body to quiver and she wanted him inside her … now.

Buffy pushed up, sitting back until her hips hovered over Spike’s. She had wanted this first time to be special; she’d wanted it to be full of the ‘light’ that the Guide talked about. She wasn’t sure what that meant, perhaps something sweet, but most likely that meant something dull and boring. At the moment, though, all thought of ‘bringing Spike into the light’ vanished from her mind; all she wanted was him inside her. All she wanted was to feel him thrusting into her; all she wanted to do was let the darkness out.

Her eyes met his across the short distance and even in the dim light that came in around the blanket she’d put up over her window she could see the blue of his eyes. His hands were on her thighs, caressing her gently; his eyes were full of desire, but it wasn’t dark and feral – which is how she felt – it was … light and loving. How ironic would it be if it were Spike that kept her in the light instead of the other way around?

That’s exactly how she felt in that moment, and she suddenly understood what the Guide was talking about. The darkness was feral and instinctive – it took what it wanted; the darkness was the demon, the savage animal within. The light was caring and loving – it sought to give what the other person desired; it was the soul, the human, the heart.

Spike reached between them and guided his cock across her clit, down her slick folds to her throbbing slit. He didn’t lift his hips up, didn’t thrust up into her, even though she would’ve welcomed that, he simply waited – waited for her.

Buffy kept her eyes locked on his and lowered herself down onto his hard, long rod as slowly as she could, taking him into her bit by naughty bit. His cock pressed into her tight, wet channel, stretching her, filling her as she impaled herself on him. Their moans mingled together and filled the room with lustful desire as she engulfed his cool hardness in her soft heat. Their eyes never wavered, staying locked on the other – blue on green – until their hips met. Even then, neither of them moved; they simply stared at each other as if something deep inside them was connecting them with their eyes, just as their bodies were now connected in the most intimate way.

Buffy’s labored breathing was the only sound in the room. Her chest heaved with desire … and something more. Something that came from the connection of their eyes. That pull … the pull of her demon, the pull of her heart, the pull of her … soul.

Just as each human soul has a soulmate, each demon has a match – another half to which is it drawn. The men took the power from the demon, divided it, and placed half inside the Slayer. Just as Zeus spilt the humans to reduce their power, men split the demons.

“Oh my God,” Buffy panted as so many disjointed emotions, words, and thoughts clicked into place suddenly. He wasn’t just the match for her demon, he was her soulmate.  At that moment she knew with certainty that she had interpreted that whole ‘leopard print fabric’ dream correctly – their souls were cut from the same cloth … and Spike still had some of William’s soul within him. She not only knew it with her mind now, she felt it with her heart. Just like her, he wasn’t wholly darkness nor wholly light.

That was how he could make her feel like he was the one showing her the light, instead of the other way around. Just like her, there was a soul and a demon residing inside him. His was perhaps the inverse of her, with more demon than soul, but it was there, nonetheless. They were like those black and white cookies at the bakery. Yin and Yang. Darkness and light. Perfect compliments. Each other's match.

Spike smirked up at her. “Haven’t even got to the best part and you’re already callin’ to God? Can’t wait t’ see whose name you take in vain later, Slayer.”

Buffy smiled down at him. Her heart felt like a giant shroud had been lifted off it. She felt almost literally weightless, as if she could fly on the wings of … love. She had been right to trust Spike. And the Guide had been right about her – she was full of love. It burned inside her brighter than the sun; it was blinding, just like Spike had said, but for once Buffy didn’t pull away from it. She didn’t have to hide any part of it from him. She didn’t have to keep her dark side chained up, or keep her love hidden from him. He would embrace the darkness just as well as the light. She could be free with him.

“Let’s find out,” she encouraged him as she began to move her hips against his and he matched her slow rhythm with an easy rise of his hips against her.

“Oh, Slayer …” Spike moaned when she began moving. “So bloody hot you are, Buffy … so tight, so sexy.”

“Oh, God, Spike … you feel so good. Need you, Spike … I … love you,” she panted out.

Spike stopped moving, his half-lidded eyes flying wide as he looked up at her, afraid that he’d heard her wrong … or maybe she’d just said it because … well, it was the thing to say.

Buffy stopped moving too. She leaned forward, careful not to hurt him, and touched her lips with his. “I love you, William,” she repeated, her lips brushing against his, her breath warm against his lips.

“Oh, Buffy,” he moaned, pulling her body down against his, regardless of the pain, and capturing her lips with his. “I love you so much, Buffy,” he gasped out against her skin. “Dreamed of this … dreamed of you so many times.”

Buffy pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. “I hope I can live up to dream-Buffy,” she half-teased.

“You already have, luv,” he assured her. “Surpassed ‘er, pet … you are so beautiful, so bloody cute trying to be gentle and not hurt me.”

“I’ll never hurt you Spike,” Buffy promised solemnly, her green eyes solemn, serious – her meaning clear.

Spike bit his bottom lip and nodded. “I’ll never hurt you, pet … unless you want me to,” he teased, trying to keep his emotions from glistening in his eyes and making him look like a ponce.

Buffy smiled. “Sounds like we’re a perfect match, then.”

Spike pulled her lips back to his and poured every ounce of love and passion he had stored up for her into the kiss. He wished he could flip her over and make love to her properly. He wanted to do everything with her that he’d dreamed of doing for so long. He wanted to give her everything she needed, everything she deserved, but there was no way his battered and bruised body would allow it – not today, anyway.

Buffy pulled back from the kiss, panting desperately for air, and began moving against him again. Their eyes stayed locked on each other as their bodies danced, moving to a rhythm only they could hear. Soft moans and whispers filled the room as the lovers discovered the blissful pleasures of each other.

Their cadence escalated as their desires intensified into urgent needs within them. Spike’s hands gripped Buffy’s hips as he thrust up into her burning desire, pulling her down on him harder with every stroke. Buffy steadied herself with her hands on the headboard, afraid to press her palms against Spike’s chest or stomach, as she slammed down on him.

“Don’t hold back, Buffy … you won’t hurt me,” Spike encouraged her as he thrust up into her harder and faster as his need for her soared higher and higher.

Spike released one of his hands from her hip and slipped it between them, and the next time Buffy came down on him a thousand flaming sparks shot out of her core as his finger crashed against her clit.

“Oh, Spike! Yes! God, baby … yes!” Buffy exclaimed as she felt herself losing control like she had never done before. Her sugar walls tightened and pulsed around his length, and Spike winced as he thrust up into her harder and deeper. Pain radiated out from the wounds on his stomach and chest, but he didn’t care – he wanted only to hear her cry out, to scream, to cum like she’d never cum before. He wanted her juices covering him, her body spent, her soul in heaven and her demon flying through the fires of hell. He wanted to show her what it could be: blissful nirvana.

“Cum for me Buffy … let go! Just be,” he encouraged as he drove into her feverishly, using the pain as fuel for his lust. Buffy took every ounce of his power and gave it back with just as much passionate intensity.

Buffy’s mind blanked; she could only feel. Feel Spike’s body under her. Feel his hard, demanding cock thrusting into her. Feel his fingers sending fire-bolts out from her clit. Feel his words roll over her like warm, thick honey.  Feel the tidal wave of pleasure building higher and higher inside her core, and for once she didn’t stop it. She didn’t push it back, didn’t try to control it or dampen it, didn’t pull away from it. There was nothing but Spike and the orgasmic bliss he was giving her. She let it come, let it build into an emotion so powerful that it consumed her completely when it burst forth.

She heard someone screaming and felt the waves of rapture crash over her like a tidal wave over a small island, consuming her utterly and completely. Her body shuddered and convulsed atop Spike as her soul seemed to fly out of her physical body and up past the moon and sun towards heaven. Then flames were licking at the darkness within, burning her with an ecstasy so hot and bright that she felt like she was dancing on the surface of the sun.

And then Spike was there with her in the flames, twirling her around as they burned with sweet, blissful passion. And they danced. They danced as the flames licked at their bodies. They danced to her rapturous scream. They danced to his growling roar. They danced like neither had ever danced before.

It was a dance that was born of something more than sex, more even than love. It was the dance of two halves of one whole finding their match again after too long apart. Spike pulled her to him through the blazing heat and kissed her deeply. And as they kissed, they were suddenly dancing through heaven – the Milky Way at their feet. Where flames had licked at their bodies a moment before, a cool, refreshing breeze now blew. It was completely different but no less blissful, no less engulfing than the flames. They waltzed across the stars like angels, floating on divine zephyrs, moving as one being, as if their souls had joined in that moment.

Finally, the cool breeze waned and the fires ebbed into nothing more than glowing embers. As the taut muscles of their climaxing bodies began to relax, the lovers floated away from the searing inferno of their bliss and back to earth.

Spike’s lips were cool and demanding against hers, his arms wrapped around her back, holding her body down atop his.  The screaming had stopped and Buffy realized that it was she who had been screaming. She pulled her lips back from Spike’s, gasping for breath, and rested her forehead against his. Her chest heaved with exertion and her body still quivered and trembled from the orgasm.  Spike was still inside her and her pussy still clenched at his cock, unwilling to release him even as their combined juices slid down over him and pooled on the sheets beneath.

Buffy finally pulled back to look into Spike’s eyes. They were smoldering as he searched her face, and she knew that if she were to see her own eyes, they would look the same. “Were you … there with … me?” Buffy asked between gulps of air. “In the flames … and the stars?”

“I was,” Spike replied, sounding as awestruck as Buffy felt. “What does it mean?”

Buffy let herself get lost in the wonderment that shone in his eyes for a moment and hoped that hers looked the same way to him. “I think it means that …” Buffy bit her bottom lip and a small smile lit up her face. “I think it means that I was wrong that night in the alley – I do want to dance … and I want to dance with you.”

“I could dance with you forever, luv,” Spike whispered, touching his fingertips to her cheek gently.

Buffy nodded and blinked back her emotions. “I really do love you.”

Spike’s heart soared even higher. Every ache, every injury, every stabbing, throbbing pain vanished in that moment. “I love you too, Buffy.”