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Author's Chapter Notes:
Cordykitten, consider yourself warned ;)
Chapter inspired by the song Rain by Madonna.
The rain poured down. He put his arms around her. They were hiding from the rain under a tree and the way he held his arms around her waist made her blush. So innocent were his moves, still so different from the way he used to hold her. She was sitting between his legs, leaning her cheek against his chest and he warmed her body, protecting her from the rain, that fell around them. She was trembling in his arms, by more than one reason, being so close to him, feeling his heart beat, feeling the fresh scent of green grass surrounding them, wet by the rain, warmed by the sun. Her dress was soaked, but all she cared about was to stay in his arms. He placed a light kiss on her hair. He could feel how she smiled against his chest.

“Tara, baby, I can't deny it any longer, what I feel for you, how you make me feel, when I'm around you. The way you smell, the way you fill my senses in every way there is.” He whispered, sending shivers down her spine. He brushed his lips against her forehead and their softness made her long for more.

Dark blue eyes under thick dark lashes gazed at her and she met his gaze, seeing the universe in his eyes, like never ending depths. She was drowning in his eyes and he put a lock of hair behind her ear, cupped her chin and brought her closer and when their lips finally met, she felt like coming home. Kissing her with soft, wet tongue, he could feel how she melted in his arms and he tried to channelize his feelings through the kiss; the longing, the feelings he had been hiding for so long, keeping them in the dark. They broke apart and he was waiting for her reaction. The way she smiled made him stop wondering, seeing stars in her eyes.

“I know we could be so good together. Let me love you.” He let his fingers run up and down her arm, looking at their feet, then meeting her gaze, eyes locked, lips getting closer again.

“I'm yours.” She whispered, feeling his lips touching hers, in sheer bliss.



The rain had poured down the whole evening, making Sunnydale dull and grey and Spike had been spending some time with Dawn. They had been at the cemetery, putting roses on Buffy’s grave, white roses, and they had lit a candle. When they had left, the roses had seemed to glow and the remaining snow had glittered in the shade of the light. Soon it all would be gone, gone like her. Sadness mixed with gratitude filled his heart, as he thought of his angel, now living in heaven, far away from him, but still close. She couldn't stay away from him, she always came back and he loved her, maybe more than ever. Dawn took his hand and they went on a walk through the empty town, while she babbled about school and boys and he smiled towards her under the big black umbrella, that covered them.

Back in the house, they had hot chocolate, watching Passions. The potentials were down in the basement, doing their training with Faith.

Later that night, when all had fallen asleep, a pink glittering dust swirled through the house and found its way into Spike’s room and he fell deeper and deeper in his sleep.



He was in his crypt, he was hardly ever there anymore. The candles were lit and the light flickered in the shadows. He couldn't remember when he had lit them, he felt like they had been there forever, but he knew that was impossible. Sooner or later they would die down, by themselves. Someone had been there or was still there, he supposed. He hadn't been there for a while, since he more or less lived in Buffy's old bedroom, to be able to be close to Dawn. He had promised to take care of her and he did.

Dawn was the sweetest little niblet ever and he smiled when he thought about how many nights they had talked, since Buffy had died. He treated her like a daughter, a dear one and kept her close to his heart. She saw a father in him and he was more than pleased with that relation, he was very proud of her, his Dawnie.

Sometimes in the beginning they had went to the crypt, when things in the house had became too hectic and they wanted to talk alone, without no one else listening. Now, Clem lived there and they visited him now and then, the three of them watching TV together.

But now he was alone, Clem was nowhere to be seen. He looked around, it was a little dark and someone was humming a lullaby, it sounded like a child. Was there a child downstairs? He frowned. He climbed down the ladder, lit a candle and saw a woman laying in the bed, smiling, while she seemed to count the stars in the starry sky, though all he could see was the ceiling. He was about to speak, when she snapped her fingers and he felt like he was in trance.

He went closer and leaned over her and she looked so innocent, so beautiful, the glow in her brown eyes, her old-fashioned dress and those dark locks, covering the pillow. The bed were all in black and her red nails were raked in the sheets, she was waiting, waiting for the victim to come and he did.

Her lips tasted like blood, human blood and the intoxicating smell filled his nostrils and urged him to have more. He was keeping her in a tight lock. She licked her lips and purred like a cat.

“The pixies told me, you'd bite me tonight,” she mused in a sensual, irresistible tone. She leaned her head to the side and exposed her neck to him. He kissed the white skin, then he let his fangs sink into her skin to taste her. She purred, pleased and he licked the wounds clean.

“Don't fight your nature, we belong together.”

He didn't answer, just stared at her in the darkness. She kissed him and whispered into his mouth.

“I want you to do something for me, I want you to drain somebody for me, a girl named Rona, living in your house. Bite her thigh and think of me.” He nodded. She sat up on the mattress and he looked at her with eyes of anticipation. She straddled him, playful and dangerous at the same time, she was beyond dangerous, but his mind was blurred.

“I can feel you're enjoying this as much as I do,” she smirked. Then he looked into her eyes, brown with hints of amber, and when she sank her fangs into his neck, he moaned her name.

“Drusilla.”


Buffy froze. She had just come to join him in sleep, but now she felt like going.





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