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Title: Meant To Be
Part: 3b/18

Buffy remained in the car as Spike examined the front bumper. She bit her lip nervously, wondering how much damage a trash can could really do to a car.

She flinched as he kicked the trash can, causing it to go flying onto the thankfully empty beach.

She remembered when her mom had crashed a new car her dad had bought. He'd been so angry. But, her mom had simply rolled her eyes and muttered, "men and their cars."

She hadn't meant to hit it. She just... confused the gas with the break. A mistake that could have been made by anyone, right?

She buried her face in her hands. "Stupid, stupid Buffy." She berated herself. They'd just had a stupid fight that was largely... well, really all her own doing, and now she'd wrecked his car. If he really had stopped hating her, she wouldn't blame him one bit if he hated her again.

She peaked from between her fingers to see him staring out at the ocean. He didn't look so mad anymore.

"C'mon, Buffy, you've faced the Master, you can do this." She mustered up all her courage and got out of the car. Spike looked up at her when the door slammed shut.

She had warned him, in all fairness. There had to be some reason her own mother wouldn't trust her behind the wheel of a car. Now, he knew. The chit couldn't tell the difference between the gas and the break.

Of course, he'd been there since driving was laying a whip to a horses back was the fastest way to go. She was just learning.

"Spike? I'm sorry." She walked over to him... staying a few feet out of reach, however. She glanced at the car.

She'd expected to see a huge dent. Maybe a light broken, too. She wasn't prepared for the tiny scrape in the paint job. She had to force herself not to laugh. That's what he'd been all worked up over? Over-dramatic, much?

"S'alright, Pet." He sighed sadly when he followed her gaze to his car. "It's not so bad. Just..."

"A little scrape?" She grinned.

"It's not funny! That cars a classic!"

"A classic what, Spike? Classic piece of junk? And seriously, how much would it cost to paint over that? I'm sure you have more than enough nail-polish to cover that." He scowled at her. "But, I am sorry."

"Yeah." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

She pouted a little before walking onto the sand. Confident that she and Spike were the only ones besides a few birds, she divested herself of her clothing. The corners of Spike's lips twitched.

The last of her clothes, lacy scraps of underwear, were tossed off just as she reached the water and dove in. He watched, entranced as she resurfaced a few seconds later. Tossing her hair away from her face, droplets clinging to her silken skin, she looked like a water nymph, at home in the natural elements; even more beautiful than when out of it.

He knew Angel was stupid. He'd just never realized how much. How could anyone give up such a creature?

Sure, they were supposed to kill each other. But, god, it felt like they were made for each other.

Her lips curved into a smile, beckoning him to join her. She stood waist deep in the water, waves licking over her golden skin.

"Ah... sweet water lily, grown by light of day, just to be mine at night..." He though as he shed his own clothes. He flinched, thinking how she'd laugh if he told her that. He remembered the last poem he'd written... for Dru. She'd laughed. Mocked him and his words. When she tired of making fun of him by herself, she told her sire and grand-sire. He'd stopped writing them then. Forced them out of his mind, occupied it with thoughts of death and destruction.

Now, they came of their own accord. He wondered if she'd really laugh. He wanted to tell her what he really felt for her.

When he reached her, she practically jumped into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, bringing her completely out of the waters reach.

Was he Hephaestus to her Aphrodite? Inhuman, disgusting, relegated to darkness yet somehow worthy of her caring, beauty, and the light that seemed to envelope her. He really needed to stop thinking like the poof of the Victorian era he'd been and more like the vampire he was. Her hand had somehow squirmed between them, gripping him expertly.

He'd taught her well in the short time they'd had together before.

His eyes rolled back in his head as she ran her hand up and down his length, a french-tipped nail scraping lightly over the head. Unable to take it, Spike's legs buckled and they feel to the ground.

His mouth pressed tightly to hers, tongue massaging hers roughly as he ground against her... causing her to sink a bit into the sand.

He didn't realize she was trying to push him off her at first. When her fist connected with his nose, he backed off. He realized why... they'd been underwater. He didn't need to breathe, of course. But, little human slayer girls do.

He picked her up as a wave receded, laying her far from the waters reach. She was shaking and crying.

"Luv, I'm sorry. I didn't realize..." Hiccuping her tears, she didn't even seem to hear him. Her eyes were clouded in pain. "Luv?"

She looked up at him. Her obvious fear ripping him into bits. "The Master." She said shakily.

"What about him?"

"He drowned me." She shook violently from the cold and memories. "I died. Xander... he brought me back... but..." She turned her face from his as she sobbed.

"Shhh, Luv. He can't hurt you anymore. And neither can the water. I won't let anything happen to you." He pulled her into his arms, trying his best to soothe her.

She turned in his arms, kissing his lips softly. She felt safe with him. Really and truly, despite how odd it seemed. Spike her safe-haven.

She wished he'd been there after it had happened. She'd needed comfort those cold nights in L.A., when the nightmares were at their worst.

She shook as Spike laced his fingers in her hair, not out of fear, but desire.

Funny how she could go from choking with the memories of her death to being consumed with feelings of such intense need.

"Spike." She whispered, her legs on either side of his. Being cold had never been more welcome or welcome in her life... the gentle ocean breeze that dried the water on her skin... and the cool hard penis just brushing against her hot folds.

She arched her back off the sand, bringing herself closer to him. He let out a growl against her lips. "Buffy."

"Please." She hooked one leg on his hip, feeling the tip graze her entrance. He left her lips to kiss her cheeks and chin. His pressed his cheek against hers as he slid into her.

"That what you wanted, Baby?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Oh... god yes." She yanked his head down to hers as he rocked his body against hers. Buffy managed to think it'd been far, far too long.





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