"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."
Carl Jung
Swiss psychologist (1875 - 1961)

---

Buffy sat alone at the table, slowly sipping her drink. She watched her friends dancing happily on the dance floor. So carefree and happy. She wished so could do that. Join them and forget the world around her. Forget about all the things that go bump in the night. Forget about her life that was slowly crumbling around her. But she couldn’t. Couldn’t ever forget. She looked back at her friends before moving slowly up the staircase leading to the balcony over-looking the stage and dance floor.

In the shadows behind her, a tiny red light flared, followed by a stream of smoke. Icy blue eyes taking in the slinky black dress that clung to blonde beauty. He also noticed her bowed head and slumped shoulders. He took a step forward and watched her back stiffen as she sensed his presence.

“Go away Spike,” she whispered, not even turning around.

“Free country, luv,” he murmured, taking a few more steps toward her.

“Fine. I’ll go,” she turned and headed for the stairs.

Spike closed the distance between them in two quick strides. He wrapped his arm around her waist and turned her around so that she was facing him, but she kept her eyes carefully out of his gaze. He placed a cool finger under her chin, pulling her head up and forcing her to look at him.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Spike’s hands on her hips and Buffy’s hands resting gently on his chest, both staring into each other’s eyes, completely silent.

Finally, Buffy let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding and took a step closer to Spike, closing the gap between them. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed and hugged her tightly to him, as if protecting her from some unseen evil. He placed a kiss into her hair, while gently stroking her lower back. Then she began to cry.

“Sh, luv, it’s okay. I’m here,” he cooed gently.

“Oh God Spike. I... I... oh,” she choked out. She was shaking now.
He had to get her out of here. The music had picked up in tempo and was pounding harshly in the background. Not the best place for an emotional Slayer.

He gently guided her down the stairs and out the back door. She made no attempt to get away or resist, just followed, clinging to his waist and sobbing uncontrollably.

---

He thanked what ever Power that they managed to make it back to his crypt without running into anything or anyone. He steered her to the lower level of his crypt and into an over-stuffed chair. He then stripped his duster off before moving to his bed and pulling the covers down. Then he lit the few candles that decorated the room, creating a soft glow now illuminating the dark chamber. He walked back over to Buffy’s huddled form and scooped her up into his arms; she immediately settled herself into his cool embrace.

Taking a deep breath, he placed her in his bed, gently removed her heels, and then carefully pulled the thick comforter over her small frame. She curled into a tight ball, still shaking, but no longer crying. He stood there for a moment before turning around, heading for that same chair across the room.


Before he managed to take a step in that direction, a small hand encircled his wrist.

“Stay,” she whispered. “Please.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed before turning to look at her. She was still curled away from him, but she was looking directly at him. Her eyes, pools of the deepest emerald, looked sad, lost, and... lonely?

“Buffy...” He honestly didn’t know what to say. He just looked at her.

“Can you just, hold me? Like before. Please?” She was so quiet; he had barely heard her. But when her request finally sunk in, all he could do was nod. She slowly let go of his wrist, but kept her gaze in his direction as he slowly made his way around to the other side of the bed, divesting himself of his boots and over-shirt along the way.

He crawled onto the bed and lay down on his side next to her, but not too close. She slowly worked her way over to him and curled herself into him, pillowing her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and slowly started to trace soothing patterns on her lower back.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his neck, before slowly slipping into a deep sleep.

“Always, luv. Always,” he murmured, pressed a feathered kiss to her forehead, then he followed her into blissful slumber.

---

Spike woke due to a sharp pain in his shin.

“What the…?” Another to his chest. Buffy was flailing around wildly.

“Buffy,” he tried to grab her arms, but instead got a punch to the gut. Ignoring the pain, he jumped on her, straddling her waist. Finally pinning her legs down, he managed to secure both tiny wrists in one hand above her head. He took a moment to take in his position, him straddling a sound asleep Buffy. He silently groaned. *Oh yeah, this is much better.*

“Buffy, love, what’s wrong?” He whispered. He gently stroked her cheek, hoping to sooth her still shaking form.

“I… can’t…” she breathed. Still asleep and still trembling under him. *She has GOT to stop doing that!*

“Sh, pet. T’s me. Spike. Tell me what to do. Tell me what’s wrong,” he brushed a few stray hairs off her forehead.

“Spike?” She began to cry.

“Oh pet. Don’t do that. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” Spike started to move off her, when Buffy gasped.

“Don’t leave!” Slowly she opened her eyes. “Please Spike. Don’t leave me. I don’t know what to do,” she closed her eyes again, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m here. Not goin’ anywhere,” Spike slowly released her hands, moving to her side. Buffy continued crying, her tiny body shaking violently.

*Should I touch her? Maybe she won’t want me to. But she said not to leave. Usually she threatens to stake me if I DON’T leave… Fuck.*

Spike reached over and softly touched her shoulder. She calmed a bit. *Okay, touching good then.* He slowly moved his arm down and wrapped it around her waist. She sighed, calming down even more. He leaned in so that their foreheads were touching, just barely. *She hasn’t staked me yet, so maybe this is okay.*

“Everything is wrong,” she whispered so quietly even Spike had a hard time hearing her. But he did. He started to move away, but her hand shot out to his shoulder and held him still.

“You are really stupid sometimes you know that?” She moved her head back far enough so that she could see his eyes, which were looking at her arm.

“Look at me.”

His eyes followed her arm up and finally settled in her eyes. “You always read me so well. Usually that pisses me off. But I want to know. Tonight, what do you see?”

He took a moment to look deeply into her eyes. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he couldn’t read too deeply into those hazel eyes.

“I see, pain. Lots of pain, worry, sorrow, and… anger. But I don’t understand why. I can usually tell…” He left the sentence hanging, hoping she would understand what he meant.

She nodded and broke eye contact. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky. With that, she took his hand from her side, kissed it, got out of his bed and left his crypt.

Spike watched her leave, kept his eyes on the place he last saw her for at least five minutes before closing his eyes. *What’s happened to her? I know it’s got to be hard with her mum gone. But she’s… broken.*

---

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Review!!

"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in batallions." (William Shakespeare, Hamlet, IV:5)

---

“Hey Buff!” Xander called from somewhere in the Magic Box. Buffy closed the door behind her, cursing the stupid bell above the door.

“Hey Xand! Whatcha doin’?” Buffy smiled at her friend who was currently in front of one of the many bookshelves decorating the shop.

“Giles wants me to find a book for him. Aha! Found it!” Xander grabbed a small red book, pulling it out he managed to knock four others books onto the floor.

“Xander! Do be careful with the books. They aren’t to be thrown about,” Giles reprimanded.

“I didn’t… I wasn’t…” Xander stuttered, but noticed Giles wasn’t paying him any attention. “Yeah sure, okay,” he muttered under his breath.

“Buffy, I’m glad you’re here. I would like to have a word with you,” Giles looked at Buffy before removing his glasses and tucking them into his inner vest pocket.

“Sure Giles. What’s up?” She gave the man a small smile, hoping this wouldn’t take long.

“Follow me please?” Giles indicated the training room.

Buffy nodded and moved quietly into the back room. Once Giles had the door closed she spoke.

“Apocalypse? Who do I gotta kill this time?” She aimed for joking, but her eyes reflected otherwise. Giles didn’t notice.

“No, nothing like that. I don’t really know how to say this to you. Buffy, I think it is time for me to go,” Giles looked at her, hoping to gauge some sort of reaction.

“Go? Go where?” She looked confused, but also somewhat apprehensive.

“England. I’m going back to England Buffy. I will only be gone a month or so. But I need to see if you can do this on your own. See if you can be indepen--” Giles stopped.

Buffy’s face had gone completely blank. No emotion whatsoever. Her voice mirroring her expression.

“England. When are you leaving?” She was staring at his left shoulder.

“Tonight. In a few hours actually… Buffy are you alright?” He stepped closer to her, stopping when she took a step back.

“I’m fine,” still not looking him in the eye, she turned walked to the door that led to the back alley. Not even turning around she said, “I have to patrol.”

Giles stared at the now closed door before turning his gaze to the sunlight pouring through the window.

---

She had just walked in the door, it was after midnight and she had been out slaying for hours. That’s when she noticed it.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Buffy stared at the little red light flashing on the answering machine.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

She headed for the fridge. She stopped two feet from her destination.

A note.

“Damn,” she muttered.

Hey Buffy!
Tara and I went out to study; we might be out all night. Don’t wait up! I should be back tomorrow sometime. Bye!
Willow.

She crumpled the note and tossed it in the trash. She yanked open the fridge door and removed her favorite yogurt. She had sat down at the counter and opened her yogurt when she realized she hadn’t gotten a spoon. She got a spoon and punched the button on the answering machine before settling herself down to eat her snack.

“Hello Miss. Summers. My name is Robert Brackenbury from Sunnydale Financial. I am calling in regards to your request for a loan. I am afraid that under the circumstances we cannot help you. The only collateral you have is your house and it was never fully leveraged. Your house has been losing equity over the years, commonplace for Sunnydale properties. Refinancing is not a possibility at this time, because you do not have an income, no job. I am sorry. Good luck Miss. Summers. Have a good evening.”

The machine clicked and the red light faded out. Buffy set her spoon down next to her untouched yogurt, walked over to the machine and tapped the ‘erase’ button. She stood, staring at the little box for a moment before turning and going up the stairs to her room.

Not bothering to remove her clothes or turn down the covers, she crawled into bed, lying down in the center. She tried to sleep, but at the moment her eyes refused to stop looking at a small spot of, something, on her ceiling. Her mind replaying the message from Mr. Robert Brackenbury. Over and over an over and over…

---

“Isn’t it exciting Buffy?” Willow clapped happily.

Willow and Buffy were walking around campus, with Willow animatedly talking about Xander’s engagement to Anya. They had told everyone at the Magic Box that morning.

“It’s great Will,” Buffy smiled at her friend.

“Two weeks!! That’s so soon! And you! You are the Maid of Honor!” Willow now had a skip in her step.

“And you are the Best Lady.”

“I know! I’m so excited! And New York! They are going to the Big Apple for their Honeymoon! I mean, of course Anya wanted to go to The Bahamas or something. Where did she say?”

“Cancun.”

“Right. But as soon as Xander pointed out the cost, she was so happy with New York. She’s so weird. And in TWO weeks!”

Willow was turning purple. *When was the last time she took a breath?*

“Willow?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you breathing?”

--Gasp--

“Wow, kinda forgot to breathe for a minute. I’m just so--”

“Excited?” Buffy smiled at her friend again.

“Yeah. Hey look, there’s my building. I’ll see you later Buffy!” Willow waved and skipped off to her next class.

“See ya,” Buffy whispered. She looked around for the building she was in search of. Once she found it, she slowly walked towards it, her head bowed, pondering what she was going to do.


The lady behind the front desk seemed nice enough. The woman had curly, short brown hair; silver-rimmed glasses; and was wearing a teal dress suit. The plaque on the desk read: Mrs. Adele Macy.

“Mrs. Macy?” Buffy kept her voice calm and collected.

“Yes? How may I help you today?” The woman gave her a bright smile.

“I-I-I came to drop my classes. You see, my mother just died and--” Buffy stopped when she noticed the woman’s face tighten. She turned away and pulled a drawer open, she flipped through some folders before she found what she was looking for.

“Fill these out and give them to me when you are finished,” her voice was icy. She thrust a stack of papers in Buffy’s face and abruptly turned and continued scribbling on the papers before her.

*Okay, maybe I spoke too soon, ‘nice’ isn’t the word for it. Ice Queen seems more fitting.*

Fifteen minutes later, Buffy finally finished filling out the papers that would make it possible for her to leave school.

“Mrs. Macy?” Buffy asked, only slightly hostile.

“Are you finished?” Mrs. Macy refused to even look at her.

“Yes.”

“Leave them on the desk. We will call you if we need any further information. I hope you have a nice day.”

*Like hell you do.*

Buffy dropped the papers on the desk and walked out the door, barely managing to not break it off its hinges.

---

“Now boarding, Flight 102 to New York.”

“That’s us! You ready Ahn?” Xander stood, picking up his carry-on.

“No. I still don’t see why we had to take a plane. Planes are just large metal deathtraps. I’m sure Willow could just zap up there,” Anya sat rigidly in her seat.

“Ahn, we talked about this. Willow can’t do that. Don’t worry! The plane will be fine. Come on,” Xander leaned over to help his wife up.

“If we die Xander Harris, I will haunt you for all of eternity,” Anya reluctantly stood and handed her carry-on over to Xander.

“Okay then!” Xander grinned nervously before turning to hug his friends good-bye.

“Bye Xander! Have fun! Send post-cards! Lots! Everyday!” Willow leapt on Xander, embracing him in a warm hug.

“You got it Will!”

“Bye Xand, have fun,” Buffy gently hugged her friend.

“Bye Buff. Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!" Xander grinned.

“Don’t worry. I won’t,” Buffy stood back and looked away from the group. No one noticing how true her words sounded.

“Bye Xander. Have a wonderful time,” Tara smiled shyly.

Xander not wanting to scare the witch, patted her shoulder and nodded.

“Let’s go Anya!” Xander took Anya by her elbow and directed her to the line boarding the aircraft. Anya, for once, was completely silent.

The three women watched the plane leave. Two of them happy for their friends on board. The other was waiting to leave.

---

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Review!

“If you want to make peace, you don't talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies.”
Moshe Dayan
Israeli general & politician (1915 - 1981)

---

Spike was pacing the upper level of his crypt, as he has he had been doing every night for the past sixteen days. It had been sixteen days since that night.

*Sixteen days. Sixteen soddin’ days! Where the hell is she? Did I do something? Now that’s a stupid question you nit. Of course I did. Don’t I always? Is she okay? Should I go find her? She hasn’t patrolled as much lately. Maybe I should go find her. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe something’s wrong. It’s been over two weeks! Soddin’ hell!*

This conversation would go around and around in his head before he would storm out of his crypt and head straight for Willy’s to get himself good and drunk.

Spike grabbed his duster, shoved his arms through the sleeves and made for the door. He froze mid-step.

*No. It couldn’t be. Could it?*

He sniffed the air. It was her. But then a coppery odor assailed his senses. The smell of blood, but with a hint of something else. He knew that smell anywhere; it was Slayer blood. It was her blood.

“Buffy!” He uttered before racing to the door. He flung it open and found Buffy staring at her hands, which were covered in blood. Her blood. Before she collapsed in his arms.

“Bloody hell!” Spike clutched the now unconscious girl in his arms. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the hole that led to the lower part of the crypt.

He swiftly jumped through the hole and with the utmost care, deposited the slayer on his bed. After he made sure she was as comfortable as he could make her, he ran up the ladder to get some water and cloths.

When he returned with said items, he set them on the stand by the bed and removed his duster. He saw that the blood pooling through the peasant top on her stomach.

*Please don’t stake me for this Buffy.*

He ripped the shirt down the middle; carefully avoiding whatever wound was on her stomach. Once the shirt was out of the way, he took a cloth from the bed stand and slowly began to mop up the blood, searching for the wound.

What he saw brought his demon out. Not out of hunger, but out of anger towards whatever did this. From just under her right breast to her left hipbone, was a laceration horribly deep. He could already see her body trying desperately to repair itself, but it wasn’t enough. The inhuman roar that ripped from his throat was full of pain and anguish, his knees buckled and he fell to the floor clutching Buffy in his arms. Feeling her move slightly, he turned her in his arm so he see her face, his demon visage melting away.

“Buffy?” He gasped. “Buffy, luv, look at me, please.”

“Spike?” She breathed. “Help…” Her eyes fluttered open.

“Buffy what did this?” He tried to control the anger in voice to no avail.

“Big… demon…Oh god Spike! Not again! Please, not again!” She whimpered as her body started to shake with unshed tears.

“You are not going to die. You hear me Summers’? I’m going to take care of you,” Spike said without a doubt in his mind that it was true. But his demon was screaming otherwise. He heard her heart flutter as it started to beat erratically.

The instant her heart changed its beat, he got to work. He cleaned the gash as best he could with the cloths, before he began to lave the wound with his tongue. Not for the sake of blood, but because of the natural healing properties of the saliva in humans and vampires alike. The cut was too wide to stitch together, so he settled for turning her onto her side and having her curl into a semi-fetal position. He grabbed one of his numerous black t-shirts and ripped one long strip from it to use as a bandage. He gently lifted her up to slide it around her waist and tied it off before setting her back down.

With the aid of both Slayer and Vampire healing powers the blood had slowed dramatically, but the cut was still slow to close itself completely. He would have to wait, which he didn’t like. He was never one for waiting around.

“Come on Slayer. You can do this. Fight, okay?” He whispered brushing a piece of hair from her forehead. When he sensed her body start to relax, he knew she was fading into unconsciousness. “Damnit Slayer! Buffy, look at me pet! Open yours eyes now. You have to stay awake!”

She was still trembling, though not as hard, with tears tracks drying on her face. When she started to open her eyes, Spike decided that the last thing she needed to see was his demon. He shook it off just in time to see her hazel eyes shining with tears.

“That’s it luv, keep lookin’ at me. Don’t close your eyes okay?” He murmured. He kneeled in front of her while whispering things to keep her awake, not once breaking eye contact with her.

Just over a half an hour later, both still staring intently at one another and Spike still talking softly to her, Buffy gingerly reached out and cupped her hand on his cheek.

“Spike,” she interrupted his continuous reassurances just by breathing his name. He didn’t speak.

“Thank you,” again; so quiet it was barely heard. Just barely, but it was enough.

With that, Spike stood and climbed into the bed so that she was facing him. He took her hand in his and simply held it between them. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like hours, in reality only minutes had gone by before he spoke.

“Tell me what happened Buffy.”

She knew that he wasn’t only asking about tonight, but he was asking about everything. Asking why she broke down like that. Asking why she had broken down the last time he saw her. As she looked into the lipid blue pools that were his eyes, she decided that she would tell him. Not only because he deserved an explanation, but also she felt needed to tell him.

---

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Review!

Sorrow n.

- Mental suffering or pain caused by injury, loss, or despair.

---

Flashback (Fool for Love timing)

Buffy walked down the hall into her mother’s room.

“Hey, I put together that grocery list for you,” Buffy said walking to the bed and crossing her arms over her chest.

Joyce turned to her daughter and smiled. “Oh great, thanks hon,” Joyce placed the clothes in her hands into the bag on her bed.

Buffy finally noticed that her mother was packing. She frowned a bit. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Have you seen my conditioner?”

Buffy’s eyes flickered towards the bathroom. “Did you look under the sink?”

Joyce held a finger up, rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself before walking to the bathroom.

Buffy slowly sat down on the bed. “Where are you going?” She sounded cautious.

Joyce came back into the room and set the conditioner next to her bag.

“Oh. I was hoping to put this off, but, um… You know the nothing that I’ve been dealing with the last couple of weeks? It might not be nothing.”

Buffy stared at her mother, apprehensive. “What is it?”

Joyce continued gently, “I’m, uh, staying overnight at the hospital for observation. I’m getting a CAT scan.”

Buffy looked down; uncertainty and fear marring her features. Joyce sat down across from her daughter and tried to reassure her.

“It’s only one night. And they say even if there is something… it’s still very early if they didn’t see it before.”

Buffy looked up, still worried. Joyce gave a soft chuckle. “I’m gonna be fine.”

With that, Buffy gave her mother a smile. It looked forced, because it was. “I know you will.”

Joyce gave Buffy a hug, before she resumed her packing and Buffy excused herself.

Buffy was slowly walking to her bedroom when a sharp pain in her stomach stopped her. She gently put her hand on the stake wound from her slip-up that morning, but that’s not what was causing the pain.

*What’s going on?*

Suddenly another wave of pain slammed through her, worse than before. She almost doubled over, but somehow managed to stay upright. Clutching her stomach she stumbled into the bathroom. She leaned on the sink, trying to catch her breath that she seemed to have lost in the last ten feet. She looked down at herself when she felt moisture between her legs.

*What???*

She stood up and moved to the toilet, nearly collapsing as another shockwave of pain coursed through her. With shaking hands, she reached for the button on her pants. Once she managed to undo the fastenings, she slowly worked her pants down her legs.

*Oh damn! This is not good.*

Her underwear and legs were covered in blood. Blood was still pouring out of her; instantly she sat down on the toilet. The pain was constant now, a solid pressure in her lower stomach. She felt the urge to bend over, but the pain only increased when she tried.

*Oh god, oh god, oh god.*

She closed her eyes tight, trying to focus on anything else so she wouldn’t scream and worry her mother. Finally after a few agonizing minutes, the pain started ebb, letting her open her eyes and work on her breathing. By the time her breathing was under control, the pain was manageable. She opened her legs to assess the damage.

Blood was everywhere. But something in the toilet caught her attention. There was a clump of… something… floating around in the blood. It was about the size of a small lemon. Buffy tried to get a closer look, when she suddenly realized what it was. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. She couldn’t breathe.

*That can’t be. I mean, I did miss my last period… but that happens all the time.*

With a shaking hand, she cleaned herself up as best she could. She gathered her hair into a ponytail and stepped into the shower to wash the rest off. She watched as the blood flowed down the drain, soon the water was back to clear and she turned the faucet off.

She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself and mopped up the rest of the blood from the toilet area. Once the bathroom was sparkling again, she headed to her room. Still in a daze, she pulled some clothes on, all the while trying to keep her mind stable. And not think about what she saw in the toilet and what it meant.

She made her way downstairs and out to the back when her head started spinning. She sat down on the back porch and her previously unshed tears began to flow.

*First mom is going to the hospital. Then… but how? How could I not know that I was, pregnant?*

She slid her hands into her hair, slowly bowed down so her forehead rested on her knees and then she started to really cry. She didn’t look up until she heard the cocking of a gun.

---

Present Day

They were quiet for a long time. Buffy was wrapped tightly in Spike’s strong arms, graciously taking the strength he was giving to her. Spike was still absorbing all the details of the past couple months in Buffy’s life, when he felt her stir.

“Spike?” She spoke softly for fear of breaking the quietness of the atmosphere.

“Yeah luv?” He wrapped his arms tighter around her, reassuring her that he was there for her.

“Say something.”

He waited a beat. Trying to decide what to tell her.

“The stake wound…” He trailed off, his eyes traveling down to her stomach before looking into her eyes again.

“Yeah, I think that’s why I lost the baby.” Buffy refused to refer to the baby as “it”.

Another beat.

“I should have known.” He went with the first thing that came to mind.

“What?” She pulled back to look at him, not sure if she heard him right.

“I should have known. I smelled the blood, that night. But I was so upset, bugger, I thought it was that cut on your stomach. Over one hundred years I’ve been a vampire, you’d think I could tell the difference w--”

Buffy put a finger to his lips to silence him.

“Spike. It’s not your fault.” She pressed more firmly against his lips when he tried to protest. “It is not your fault. You were there when I needed someone, there is nothing else you could have done.”

That seemed to calm him down, somewhat. Buffy watched his eyes as they softened, a split second before something she couldn’t define flashed in his eyes.

“Did he know?”

She didn’t need to ask who he was talking about; she knew he was asking about Riley.

“No. With everything that happened, I never got the chance. Then he just left. He didn’t even look back!” Buffy didn’t cry again, but she still felt the pain over been left, again.

“Wanker!” Spike ground out harshly. He closed his eyes, trying to control the fury that raced trough him. Fury that Whitebread could leave this woman because of his own selfish needs, when she had enough to deal with. Fury that Buffy was in so much pain. And most of all, fury that he was envious of Finn because he could give Buffy something that Spike never could. Life. A child. Something he just now realized he wanted more than anything. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

He hadn’t even noticed the tears running down his cheeks until Buffy reached up to wipe them away.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, worriedly looking into his eyes. The raw emotion she found made her gasp. “Spike?”

Without answering her, he gathered her up in his arms, clutching her to him, his body shaking in misery. The emotions Buffy felt emanating from the man holding her shocked her into tears as well. The two of them curled into each other, holding on as if their very lives depended on it. In that exact moment, in LA Angel collapsed to the floor on his knees, an enraged roar ripping from his throat. And half way across the globe, Drusilla dropped the young girl she was feeding on to clutch her head and let loose a shriek of anguish, before passing out. The images flooding through her mind too much for her to handle.

In that exact moment, the Powers That Be stopped and watched in awe of what was taking place on earth.

Inside the crypt, the two beings huddled close, began to glow. But neither noticed. Neither knew that a prophecy was being fulfilled. Neither knew that their lives from this moment on would be completely different. Neither knew why, but both understood with a sudden clarity that they had found their soulmate.

---

Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Review!

Ecstasy n.

- Intense joy or delight.

---

Hazel eyes snapped opened to stare in shock as Spike’s pale blue orbs shifted to a glowing gold. She felt it the moment Spike’s body went rigid, his face contorted in pain, and his mouth stretched open in a silent scream. Fiery light emanated from his eyes, mouth, and entire body, consuming him as Buffy watched helplessly. The air was thick and hot; soon a low hum was heard growing louder with each passing second. Buffy blindly reached out and grasped Spike’s hand when she realized they were no longer touching, hoping to help him go through whatever was happening. The instant their hands met, Buffy’s body mimicked the ramrod straight form of Spike’s. Tears poured down her face as she felt the agony that Spike was in.

The hum was still escalating, but as it grew their bodies relaxed and the pain decreased. Almost in a daze, Spike reached for Buffy’s body, pulling her to him. Her body was shaking, whether from the hum, the heat or the intense pain she just felt, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she needed Spike. Now.

Spike needed her too. As if in slow motion, clothes were removed, pulled off and flung carelessly to the side. Her hands pulled his head down to her and their lips met in a powerful, all-consuming, passionate kiss. Time seemed to stop and spin forward all at once. Hands flew over each other’s bodies, pulling and groping, trying to get closer. The kiss broke, leaving both panting for more. Spike slid into place over her trembling form, bright green eyes met sapphire blue as he entered her for the first time. Both eyes widened in awe as they finally became one. Her legs lifted and wrapped around his slim waist arching her back against him. She cupped both hands on his face and pulled him down for another searing kiss.

The hum calmed when they connected, barely audible, but still there. Both bodies still glowing a soft gold in the dark crypt, magic continually dancing in the air. No words had been spoken yet between the two lovers, but as they climbed towards their peaks, Spike felt it.

“Buffy…” His voice hoarse and ragged with lust, he didn’t know how to explain what his demon was demanding of him.

“Spike,” she breathed, searching his eyes before tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck to him.

“Luv, are you-”

“Yes,” she interrupted. When he didn’t move, she pulled his head down urging him on. Spike shifted into game face and tenderly licked her neck, all the while continuing to bring Buffy and himself to new heights of pleasure.

He gently sunk his fangs into her, right over the marks previously adorning the smooth column of her neck. Buffy gasped when he took the first shallow pull of her blood, her inner muscles tightening around him. With that first pull the hum took on a deeper resonance, the air crackling with magic, as a thin string of silver wove through the air before circling around the pair on the bed. The silver light spun webs, weaving and circling faster each time around, the hum getting stronger. A heavy pulse and a flash of light, Spike released Buffy’s neck with a thundering roar, both lovers thrown into hedonistic oblivion.

Buffy screamed out her release as Spike buried his head against her shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut as the waves of pleasure washed over them. He slowly raised his head to look at her as she tried to calm her erratic breathing. Cautiously moving his gaze to her eyes, he watched as a myriad of emotions swirled through them, finally settling on contentment. Relief flowed through him once he determined that she wasn’t planning his staking, at least not in the immediate future.

Spike hands traveled up her arms to take a hold of each of her hands. He was about to speak when he noticed her eyes grow wide, looking at something just above him.

He turned just in time to see the spinning silvery webs split into two and tie themselves around each of their combined wrists. They both watched in complete shock as the lights disappeared into their skin, when a white hot flash of pain emanated from their wrists. Their first instinct had been to pull away, recoil from the pain, but it was as if their hands were fused together. Spike, ignoring his pain, leaned down to nuzzle into the crook of Buffy’s neck, murmuring into her ear to calm her and divert her attention from her pain. Slowly, the burning sensation began to ebb, until all that was left was a dull throb.

“You okay luv?” Spike’s voice rumbled through the now eerily quiet room.

“Yeah… what… why…” she closed her eyes briefly to will her mind to slow down long enough to string together a sentence. She took a deep breath before opening her eyes and trying again. “My wrists are still achy. Are yours?”

“Yeah, not too bad though. What say we take a look?” Nodding her head in agreement, she began to squirm. She froze when she felt him harden within her, Spike groaned. In all the chaos, they had forgotten he was still nestled inside her. He started to pull out, but before he could she squeezed her legs tighter around him.

“No! Don’t… just stay, okay?” Her voice was shaky. She didn’t know exactly why she stopped him; all she knew was that she didn’t want him to go away yet.

Spike tilted his head, gazing at her, before gently nodding and slipping his left hand from her right.

Buffy gasped at the sight that met their eyes, Spike immediately checked his right wrist only to be met with the same thing on he saw on his left. Thin lines of silver swirled together forming an intricate, circular, knot-like pattern, now adorned the inner wrist of both of their arms.

“Bloody hell.”

“Why… what… are they glowing?” Buffy finally sputtered out.

Spike took a closer look. The wispy silver lines on their arms were indeed glowing.

“Looks like it, luv.”

“Oh.” Buffy turned a bit to examine her right wrist more closely, causing Spike to groan. She froze.

“Buffy…” Spike’s voice a low rumble. Buffy squeezed her internal muscles in response. The platinum blonde moaned and dropped his head to her shoulder. He was hard as a rock and not quite sure how Buffy would take to going for another round. His hips involuntarily tilted, drawing a deep breath from her.

*Alright then.* Was Spike’s last coherent thought before he resumed driving into Buffy with pure zeal.

Buffy's screams would have left no doubt in anyone's mind as to what she was experiencing if they had been anywhere in the near vicinity of the crypt. She was in pure ecstasy.

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