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Author's Chapter Notes:
Speical thanks to DreamsofSpike for being my beta! You rock, girl!
Special thanks to DreamsofSpike for being my beta! You are the best!


THE NIGHT BEFORE THE END OF THE WORLD…AGAIN…

Buffy slowly untucked Spike’s shirt, raising it up over his stomach, her warm hands touching as much of his cool skin as she could possibly reach, grazing lavishly over his chest, playfully teasing his nipples – cherishing each moment – because these probably *were* their last....

She smiled at his sudden, sharp intake of unneeded breath.

With his impatient help, the cotton shirt he wore was soon discarded. Running a finger in a lazy path over his chest…down his collar bone…in a teasing circle around one nipple…over his battle-scarred ribcage…and finally, down along the line where his pants rested low across his hips -- Buffy gazed with dark, hungry eyes at his magnificent body.

"You are so...sexy," she told him in a soft, lustful whisper, as both of her hands continued their hypnotic trail over his body.

Spike tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a breathless groan, his senses pleasantly drugged by her gentle assault. "Sexy?" he repeated in soft surprise.

"Yes, sexy," she assured him, her arms wrapping around his middle, her face pressed against his chest. "You are so sexy to me, I don't know how I let you spend the night here all these months without doing anything."

"I don't know, either," he agreed, his hands rubbing softly up and down her arms, enjoying the feeling of her body pressed comfortably against his.

"I dreamed about it," she confessed softly against his skin, between tender, fluttering kisses on his chest. "I thought about you a lot."

Groaning, Spike lowered his head in an attempt to look at her, his undead heart trying to pound frantically at her cherished touch and words. "I thought about you too," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.

"Did you?" Buffy asked, softly kissing one of his scars, her hands gently caressing his stomach and sides. "I think you had a head start on me, though." She nipped lightly at his chest, smiling as his breath hissed through his teeth at the startling sensation. "Those weeks that we were together....you got to know my body very well....I could see it in the way you looked at me..."

She ducked in front of him again, her lips and tongue punctuating her words with gentle caresses here and there. "And after...I thought about it…after you were gone...When you came back…I watched you sleep…and I wondered...what would it be like...to touch you again." Her tongue flicked out, teasing his nipple, "…to taste you again..."

Spike groaned helplessly, his head falling back against the pillow as he gasped for breath. By this point, he could barely understand the words she was speaking to him, his body strung tight with desire, thoroughly focused on each and every powerful sensation she was creating in him with her hands and her mouth.

Looking up to see what she was doing to him – Buffy was suddenly jealous.

"Touch me," she requested in a low, husky whisper, as she reached up to lead his hands to her waist.

Spike needed no further permission. With a groan, he pulled her to him, his lips kissing her passionately, bruising, branding her as his. Buffy opened herself to him with a small moan, her arms wrapped around his neck. Spike's hands threaded through her hair, pulling it loose from the clip that held it, letting it drape down her back.

He kept kissing her – never wanted to stop – only pulling away when she could go no longer without breath.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he whispered hoarsely, his hands roaming over her back, through her hair, trying to touch as much as of her as possible, all at once. She only laughed, kissing and licking his neck affectionately.

Straightening, Buffy began pulling her shirt over her head, her hands shaking slightly. In moments it was gone, added to the growing pile of discarded clothes beside the bed. Soon her bra followed, and her breasts where finally revealed to Spike’s eyes – much to his delight. Gently he cupped them, his thumbs running lightly over her nipples, causing her to gasp and arch against him. Leaning down, his tongue circled slowly around one nipple, before closing on it and tugging at it with his lips. Buffy groaned softly, her hands tangling in his hair, holding him to her breast.

"I don't think you should...uh...do...that," she practically moaned as she tugged urgently at his hair. "Or we could have a problem."

Spike smiled and transferred his attention to her other nipple.

"Oh, William," Buffy gasped.

Looking up at her, startled, Spike saw the hazy look in her eyes. Cupping her face he kissed her again, gently, teasingly, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Her small whimpers of pleasure sent little sparks of pleasure flying through his body. Buffy let out a low moan as their bodies, unhindered by any clothing, finally met, flesh to flesh. Warm softness to cool, firm strength.

Buffy finally pulled away from him, breathless. She stared up into his eyes, her body humming with his touch, wanting to feel him inside of her – a part of her. "I love the way that you feel..." she whispered, her hand caressing the angular line of his jaw. Reaching for his belt, she began to undo it.

Spike didn't respond, but his hands covered hers, quickly undoing the buttons and sliding his pants and boxers off. Buffy looked him over appreciatively, noting his obvious desire.

"God, you’re beautiful."

Spike shook his head in almost shy denial of her words, instead reaching for the buttons of her jeans, leaning down to kiss her deeply as he pushed them off her body. Buffy ran her hands over Spike's lower back, caressing his bare bottom with her slowly roving fingers. The man was all muscle.

Spike obviously had the same idea in mind, his hands trailing slowly over her back, over where her panties would have been, but where instead, they found only her soft, silken skin.

He pulled back, looking down at her, his eyes wide with shock – as his expression slowly changed to a teasing grin. "You seem to be missing something, luv," he laughed.

Buffy smiled, slightly embarrassed. "Well, I was in a rush today and...."

"You forgot to put on your knickers?" Spike suggested, his tone completely unconvinced, a leer on his lips as he pulled her back into his arms, nuzzling against her neck.

"Something like that," she answered.

Spike looked up at her seriously. "Please tell me you don't always walk around like this," he said.

Buffy frowned. "Why?"

Waiting a beat before answering, Spike finally smiled. "Because it would bloody well destroy the last of my sanity if I walked into the Magic Box and had to wonder whether you were walking around without any knickers on!"

"Oh!" Buffy laughed.

Spike could only stare down at her in awe, as she lay there beneath him, her golden hair spread out like a fan around her head. Resting on one elbow, one leg covering hers, Spike reached out and softly stroked her cheek. "Do you know how long...I have wanted you?" he asked softly, his eyes never leaving her face.

Buffy smiled gently, looking up at him. "Forever," she whispered.

Spike ran his hand over her body, touching her, feeling her softness. "And a day," he agreed. Leaning down he kissed her gently, though he was careful to keep the full extent of his passion reigned in. It was a kiss of surrender – not dominance. Pulling back he looked into her eyes – and there was no need for words.

This was the beginning – of *everything*.

"I don't think I can stand much more," she moaned. "Spike – please..."

Spike chuckled, moving slowly down the bed until he was poised over her lower body. He kissed the top of her thigh, his fingers gently caressing the heat that pulsed between her legs.

"Spike!" she hissed, her back arching, hands gripping the sheets tightly.

He could feel her warmth, how wet she was. She was more than ready, he knew – so was he – but not yet. Not yet.

His every movement was torturously slow, expertly building her desire to a fever pitch. Buffy was breathless, unable to keep still. Spike wasn't faring much better; his body ached to join hers, but he didn't give in – just began slowly kissing his way back up her body. When he stopped to caress her center with his tongue, Buffy's legs opened for him instinctively.

She couldn't speak; she could barely form a coherent thought. She could only feel – Spike's hands, his tongue...on her body...in her body. She could feel her body tensing....climbing...searching....

"Spike.." she groaned, her back arching, forcing her hips up against him. "Please...I want....I want...you." She looked down at him, her eyes heavy with desire. "Please," she whispered.

In seconds he was poised above her, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him towards her, holding him against her. Rising up, Buffy captured his lips in a passionate kiss, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. Placing her hands on his lower back she raised her hips while pushing against him, urging him to finally consummate their desires. With a groan, Spike slid into her warmth, his head dropping down to rest against her shoulder as he fought to control himself.

"This feels so good," she moaned, shifting her hips until he was fully embedded inside her. "So good...."

Spike let out a little huff of air, his unbeating heart swelling in his chest. "It should," he told her, his voice rasping against her ear. "If you have been feeling the same things I have for the past few months."

Further aroused by the blatant need in his voice, she tried to move her hips against him again – but the weight of his body held her pinned.

Spike groaned. "Don't do that yet," he warned her, biting her neck gently with his blunt human teeth.

"Oh god, Spike..." Buffy whispered, her hands running over his back with a feverish intensity. "Don't stop now. Please....." She moaned as he slowly withdrew and then entered her again. "Yes..." she hissed, her hips meeting his in an answering thrust.

Slowly, gently, they began to make love, their lips locked together as their bodies instinctively moved toward each other in counterpoint...Buffy's body rising to meet each of Spike's thrusts into her, in a natural rhythm that their bodies had followed before – but never like this.

Once again Buffy could feel her body tightening, as Spike's control, his slow and steady thrusts, drove her to the very edge of her sanity. Her head rolled from side to side, as she arched up against him, her hands grasping his back, feeling the muscles contracting and relaxing under her touch.

Her heart felt as if it was about to burst.

She could hear Spike's labored breathing above her, and realized that she was not the only one whose control was swiftly faltering. She could feel the sweat on his skin as he strained to hold back, tasted the salty tang on his neck.

"William..." she groaned, pulling his lips to hers, tasting him. "I...want to...." she groaned involuntarily against his mouth as his body slammed into her more fully, evidence that his control was slipping. "I want to... make love...to...you.." she moaned.

Spike stilled for a moment, but then, with quick efficiency, rolled them over, Buffy now astride him. "Your wish is my command," he whispered hoarsely, gazing up at her with a lustful awe in his dark blue eyes.

Buffy moaned loudly as she sank down onto him. Leaning forward, her hair falling like a golden curtain around them, she kissed him, their tongues caressing briefly before she sat back, obeying the demands of her body as she began to move on top of him, grinding slowly.

Spike remained as still as possible, allowing her to control their pleasure. He reached up and began to caress her breasts, feeling their heaviness as they swayed above him. Leaning up, he pulled one nipple into his mouth, suckling gently. His hand teasing the other, and Buffy groaned, her motions becoming faster, her breath coming in short gasps.

Leaning down again, she pressed her mouth against his, the frantic beating of her heart pounding against his chest. He reached blindly for her hips with both hands, guiding their movements as she began to make little mewling noises in the back of her throat, her eyes closed, mouth open as she gasped for breath above him.

He knew that she was close.

His face shifted into its demon guise, and he lifted her up and then pushed her onto her back again so that he was once again poised over her. Buffy opened her eyes in surprise, looking up at him. Intense eyes locked with hers, Spike increased his tempo, lifting her hips so that he could penetrate her deeper – and in seconds her body was spiraling around his, finally having been pulled over into the abyss...riding the waves of pleasure until her body could do nothing more but tremble weakly in their wake.

Above her, Spike watched as her eyes closed with pleasure, her mouth dropping open as she forgot to breathe; her hands grasped him, pulling at him, forcing him onward. She arched against him with one final moan, her eyes drifting open slowly, and the look of languorous pleasure in them caused Spike's own body to tighten unexpectedly.

She looked up at him with unadulterated lust. "Spike. I want you to bite me." she whispered seductively.

At the sound of those words, his body sped up, no longer under his control as it sought its own release in her body. He licked her skin, nuzzling gently against her neck before his fangs pierced her soft throat.

“Mine,” he growled as he slammed into her, feeling her welcoming warmth, her legs wrapped high around his hips.

Buffy rose up toward him, her tongue flickering against his neck, then followed by the pressure of her teeth, hard enough to draw blood.

“MINE!” she groaned.

That was all it took for Spike to explode into her, his body convulsing with pleasure so intense that he thought he might black out. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against her shoulder once again, gasping, feeling her hands smoothing down his back, gentling him, his body pulsing out of his control. He could feel her humming softly as she too came down from an intense peak of pleasure.

”Yours.” They whispered together, kissing softly as Spike’s demon receded.

"Are you okay?" Buffy finally asked, once their breathing had returned to a pace close enough to normal to allow them to speak.

Spike looked down at her, his eyes heavy with a haze of exhausted pleasure, his body totally relaxed. "Yeah... are you?" he asked her, leaning in to kiss her softly.

Buffy smiled into the kiss, weaving one hand into his hair. "I just never thought it could be like this..." she gasped out between kisses – surrendering once again, drowning in his passion...

~~~~

SIX MONTHS LATER…


Willow was sitting at the kitchen table in her apartment in LA, working on her laptop, when Buffy came into the room.

“Hey Buff. What’s going on?” Willow asked, barely looking up from her work. “Anything interesting happening?”

It was then that Willow noticed the tears in her friend’s eyes.

“Buffy? Buffy, what’s wrong?” Willow asked, her full attention focused on her friend, as she rose from her chair to help her.

Buffy felt weak. God, what was wrong with her? She was the Slayer. She was never supposed to feel this way.

“Wills?” Buffy asked, turning her head toward her friend with a frighteningly confused, disoriented expression in her distant emerald eyes.

Willow put her arms around Buffy, pulling her to the floor with her, when the Slayer appeared on the verge of collapse. “You need to sit down for a minute, honey. What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Buffy turned her tired eyes to her friend with a look of chilling, hopeless desolation on her face. “I think I’m dying, Willow.”

“What?” Willow asked, her face pale with shock and fear. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

Buffy tried to laugh, but it came out as a groan. “I’ve never told you this before, Willow, but – the night before Spike died – we – we claimed each other – took each other as mates. And now he’s gone, and – and I think I’m dying, Willow. I can’t do anything anymore without him. I’m so weak. I…can’t… I love him, Wills. I love…”

Buffy did not even have the time to finish her sentence, before her entire world went black.

~~~~~


“Dawn? Dawn, are you there?”

Spike? Buffy thought, her mind once again confused and disoriented as she slowly returned to consciousness. She looked beside her – and saw Dawn, standing there beside her.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice barely over a whisper.

It couldn’t be…he was dead…couldn’t be…could it?

“It’s just Spike, Buffy.” Dawn turned toward the door, calling down the stairs to the vampire, “I’m here.”

Oh God. What the hell is going on?

Where was she?

She could hear Spike’s voice yelling at Dawn, but none of the words made sense. She looked around the room, just trying to come to terms with her impossible surroundings.

The Hellmouth had closed – Spike had died – and she had followed him…

And yet…she was home…back in Sunnydale.

She was back from the dead…again.





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