Title: Spiritgasms
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine
Feedback: Pretty please!
Summary: Spike is gone from this
world, but hasn't passed to the next.
He's given a chance to return, on
account of he acted unselfishly and
helped save the world.



Dedication: To the "Opulent" Cindi, who
suggested the idea and promised me
candy if I wrote it.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"In the cool of the evening, when every-
thing is getting kind of groovy,
I call you up and ask you if you want
to go and meet and see a movie.
First you say "no", you've got some
plans for the night,
And then you stop...and say "all right"
Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little
girl like you..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"You've been here long enough, you know. Sooner
or later, you'll have to decide."

Spike stretched out on the warm sand, his body
soaking in all the glorious warmth of the sun that
it had been denied for so many decades.

Sighing deeply, he turned and faced his guide.

"Look, pet...I've told you nine ways from bloody
Sunday...I'm not going back. Why should I? I
like it here just fine."

He gestured with one hand, encompassing all the
beautiful scenery around him; the ocean in front
of him, the forest behind him, and the pristine white
sand underneath him.

"D'ya have any idea how long it's been since
I've sat on a beach during the day? Well, I'll tell
you...never. I've never sat on a beach during the
day. Not once in my entire bloody existence."

Tucking his hands behind his head, he closed
his eyes again. "Now, be a good little spirit helper
and shove off. I'm trying to get a tan."

Melisande stood up and glared at him, hands on her
hips. "And THAT'S another thing...you have GOT to
put some clothes on! There have been complaints."

Spike chuckled. "Liar."

"I BEG your pardon!" The guide drew herself up to
her full height of 4ft 5 in, and looked at him, insulted
to her very core. "I have never told a lie in my life! YOU
on the other hand...."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You already went over all my
bad habits when I got here. Give it a rest, will ya, luv?"

She was silent for exactly thirty seconds.

"I'm supposed to talk to you about it again."

"ARRGGH !" Spike jumped to his feet and headed
for the water line. "I already told you...I'm NOT going
back! Why can't you lot take go-to-hell for an answer?"

Melisande clapped her hands over her ears. "I
have told you repeatedly...do NOT use the "H" word
around here! It's a very touchy subject!"

Bending over, Spike dug up a handful of sand
and watched the little crabs that lived in it scurry
around in his palm. "Sorry," he muttered.

"What?"

He rolled his eyes and pulled the guide's hands
away from her ears. "I said...sorry."

"Oh...well, good." Only slightly mollified, she
wiped wet sand off her ears. "Now...to get back on
subject. If you remember correctly, I told you when
you first arrived that your case was under review."

"Mm-hmm." He stared out over the calm sea, watch-
ing in delight as a group of dolphins frolicked off
shore. "And?"

"And...I thought you'd be pleased to know that, due
to your acting over and above the call of duty, they
have offered you a 'Get out of limbo free card'. You
can go back and TRY to do things right this time."

Spike shrugged, staring at his feet as he kicked
a seashell out into the water. "Got no reason to go
back."

Melisande grinned, her silver eyes dancing with
glee. "What about her?"

"Her? Her who?" Spike asked, squishing the sand
between his toes.

"You know perfectly well "her who?"...the slayer."

He released a harsh laugh. "Oh, yeah...the slayer. Good
reason to go back, that one is."

"Well, why not?"

Why not? There were a million reasons why not, but
only one that really cut any ice with him.

"She doesn't love me." He shook his head. "I can't
go through it all again, pet."

Melisande sighed along with him. "You don't have to
go back to HER you know. The world's a big place.
Easy to get lost in."

Spike laughed again. "No...I'd never be able to stay
away. Tried it already...couldn't do it. Long as she's
there, I'd go looking for her sooner or later." He knelt
in the wet sand and began to scoop out a hole. "The
slayer...I'm like a fucking homing pigeon where she's
concerned."

The guide plopped down next to him. "Look, William...
Spike...whatever name you're going by these days,
you really didn't give her much of chance at the end
you know. She finally tells you that she loves you,
and you..."

Spike cut her off with a sharp gesture of his hand.

"You don't get it, do you Tinkerbell?"

"Don't call me Tinkerbell. I'm not a..."

"Point is...underneath that slightly frosty and
sometimes downright bitch queen exterior...Buffy
HAS got a heart." He frowned as he kept dig-
ging. "She was just...trying to make me feel better
about what was gonna happen."

"Well?" Melisande spread out her hands. "She
cares."

"I never said she doesn't care," Spike replied, striving
for a little of William's patience. "I know that she cares.
It's not enough."

"I'm not the worldliest spirit guide on the astral plane,
but even I think you're wrong. I've been watching, you
know. For years now." She stood up and brushed
the sand off her skirt. "The girl loves you, you thick-
headed ox...Spike! If you throw that sand at me, I'll see to it
that you spend your next life as a house cat," she
warned him when she saw him making a ball out of
wet sand.

Spike glared at her. "You wouldn't."

"Try me!"

"You couldn't."

"I can and I will!" Melisande smoothed her hair and
turned around. "I'm going back inside now..."

"Good!"

"...but before I do, I have one more thing to ask you."

Spike glanced at her suspiciously. "And that is...."

The petite guide smiled at him. "Are you a gambling
man?"

He hesitated. Where the hell had THAT come from?

"I've been known to place a bet or two," he admitted.
"When the stakes are right. Why?"

Folding her arms across her chest, Melisande's smile
grew wider. "I'll bet you that she really does love you..
just exactly the way you want her to love you. If I'm
right..."

"You're not even in the neighborhood of right."

"IF I'M RIGHT" she repeated more forcefully. "You pack
your bags and get out of my hair for the next fifty or
60 years."

Spike rolled his eyes. "And if you're WRONG, Miss
Cheeky?"

There was a short pause. "I'm not sure yet," she finally
said. "I don't know exactly how much leeway I have
in making these deals. But, it'll be something good...trust
me."

He narrowed his eyes. "Something good, huh?"

"Well, of course, something good," she huffed. "I'm
not in the business of doling out something bad, you
lunkhead!"

She turned and flounced off, with Spike on her heels,
stumbling to get his pants on without falling on his
ass in the soft sand.

"Oi! How's about you knock off the name calling, pixie
brain? That'd be good!"

"Moron!"

"Shrew!"

"Pigheaded clod!"

"Flying monkey!"

She whipped around, her silvery eyes sparking with
anger. "I AM NOT A FLYING MONKEY!" she screeched
at him.

Spike turned on one heel and ran off down the
beach with Melisande in hot pursuit.

"JUST BECAUSE I HAVE WINGS, THAT DOESN'T
MAKE ME A FLYING MONKEY! YOU COME BACK
HERE, YOU COWARD!!"

She chased him down the beach, letting him know
in no uncertain terms what would happen when she
caught up with him.

Spike stayed twenty feet ahead of her, laughing
in the warm afternoon sun.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


TBC

Spiritgasms....part two


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You always keep me guessing, I never
seem to know what you are thinkin’
And if some fellow looks at you, I’m sure
your little eye will be a winkin’
I get confused, cause I don’t know where
I stand, and then you smile...and hold my hand
Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The table in the dining hall normally seated fort
y two people, but
this evening there were only two.

Melisande’s lip curled as she watched her charge scrape the sides of
the dish he was holding. His chair was tilted back on two legs, and his
feet were propped on the snowy linen table cloth.

“You know, there’s more food in the kitchen,” she said. “You don’t
need to scrape the dish in that annoying manner.” She flinched when
the spoon screeched on the glass.

“Never waste hot fudge,” Spike announced, licking a drop from his
finger. “It’s one of God’s greatest gifts.”

Melisande glared at him. “God had nothing to do with hot fudge,” she
said. He provided fruit and vegetables, and grain, and the beasts of
the field. You ever see any hot fudge trees growing down there? I
think not!”

He placed the dish on the table. “Whatever.” Ignoring another glare
aimed at his feet, he smiled. “So, about this bet you mentioned...”

“I have a good mind to cancel the whole thing,” she said. “That’d teach
you a lesson.”

He winked at her. “Don’t count on it.”

Taking a deep breath, Melisande prayed briefly for strength and wisdom.

“Okay,” she said. “The deal is, you go back down there and hang
around a bit. You’re gonna hear what you want to hear, and you
won’t be able to claim that she’s only saying it to be nice to someone
who’s about to....whatever that was you did.”

Spike gave her a doubtful look. “Now how do YOU know that?”

“Because,” she said, giving him her ‘I’ve got you now’ smile. “She
won’t be talking to you. She won’t even know you’re there.”

NOW, the idea was beginning to sound a lot more intriguing. He would
be able to see Buffy...to hear her voice...without actually having to reveal
himself to her.

This sounded like fun. The good, old fashioned kind that he hadn’t had
in ages.

“When you’re ready to admit defeat,” his diminutive companion continued,
“just give me the word, and I’ll start the paperwork.”

“And then what happens?”

“You’ll be back on Terra Firma before you know what hit you. After that,”
she shrugged, “it’s all up to you.”

Spike slapped his palm down on the table. “Right then,” he said,
jumping to his feet. “Let’s get this show on the road, fairy face.”

Melisande threw her hands in the air. “Oh, now he’s in a hurry.” She
stood up and dug a large brass key out of the pocket of her robe. “Come
on.”

Spike grabbed his coat and followed her across the dining hall to a
massive and intricately carved oak door. He watched her insert the key
and turn it.

When the lock clicked, he heard a chime sound and the door slowly
swung open. He made to walk past her, but she grabbed his arm.

“Hang on a minute, hot shot,” she said, wearing her sternest expression. “Are
you gonna be a good boy and make me proud, or will you continue being
a jackass with no hope of improvement?”

He paused. “There a third choice, Pet? Something in between?” he asked,
with a devilish smile.

“Okay, that’s it! You’re out of here.”

Without another word of warning, she placed her hands in the middle
of Spike’s back and shoved him out the door. Slamming it behind him,
she leaned against it and tried to calm her nerves.

“HEY!” came from the other side of the door. “A little help here...where
do I go?”

“You’ll figure it out,” she yelled back.

There was a short pause. “Thanks a pantload, luv,” Spike said sarcastically.

Melisande waited until she was sure he was on his way before she folded
her hands together and closed her eyes.

“Heavenly father...Creator of the light and the darkness...Provider of
life and blessings on all mankind...I’m begging you, Sir...I need a break.
Please kick that girl in the backside and make sure she thinks with her
heart this time, and not her head. Because....to tell you the truth, Sir...her
head is just as hard as his....Amen.”


*****************************************

Spike stood in front of Buffy’s house, taking in everything about
it.

The trees, the lawn, the rose bushes...all these things were wonderfully
familiar and strangely foreign at the time same time. It looked so
similar to the little house in Sunnydale...a town that no longer existed.

This house, however, was in Northern California, just a little south
of Monterey.

As he stood there, drinking it all in, he saw her pass by the living
room window and sit down on the sofa.

“Buffy,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you, luv.”

His eyes were starved for the sight of her, and without another thought,
he walked through the closed front door and into the living room of the
little cottage.

“Hi, baby,” he said softly, sitting down in an arm chair across from
the sofa. “How’s my ‘little bad’ doing without me?”

Leaning forward, he took a closer look. “You look tired, luv. You been
getting enough sack time?”

Tired or not, she was the only thing in the world he cared to look at. He
hadn’t realized just how badly he’d missed her, until this moment.

“Hey, guess what?” he said, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Remember
when I died? I didn’t go to hell! Can you feature that? All the crap I
pulled over the years, and I ended up in Heaven...well, sort of a place halfway
between here and there.”

Buffy tugged her shoes off and dropped them on the floor.

“They..uh, they said I can come back if I want. But I figure I’ve
pretty much seen everything there is to see down here. I just wanted to...you
know...check up on you and the little bit before I moved on.”

She rubbed her feet. The sight made him ache to touch her.

He used to do that for her. When she’d had a long day at work, slinging
greasy fast food, she’d come to him and he would remove her socks
and shoes, then massage her feet until all the soreness was gone, listening
to her describe her day and laughing when she imitated her surly customers.

“So...I’ve got this thing called a ‘Spirit Guide’. They’re the ones who
take you from one plane to another, and no...not the kind you find at the
airport, smarty.” He chuckled. “Her name’s Melisande, and she’s a right
pain in the arse sometimes...kinda like you.”

He watched her stretch out on the sofa and stare at the ceiling.

“She’s not too bright, though,” he went on. “Got some crazy, bollixed
up ideas in her head, I can tell you THAT. Like....she thinks you love
me. How’s that for a laugh?”

Spike stared down at his hands for a moment. It wasn’t all that much
of a laugh, really. It was a painful little dig into his vitals, a discordant
twang of heart strings being twisted and turned in too many directions
at once.

“You know,” he said softly. “I’d give just about anything if it was true. If
I thought that little silver-eyed fiend knew what she was yammering on
about...but I..”

He was startled into silence when the front door opened, and Willow
walked in. “Oh, wonderful,” he muttered. “What did you do, luv? Drag
the whole motley crew along with you? Please tell me you didn’t bring
Xander, too. That’s ALL I need.”

“Hey, how was work?” Buffy asked, sitting up and waiting for Willow
to drop her packages.

“Work was too much work, today,” the other girl moaned. “The
bookstore is having an autograph signing today and tomorrow. Five
million screaming squirrels all trying to grab five thousand books.”

She sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, and tucked her feet
underneath her. “What did you do today?”

Buffy shrugged. “A little work out...went to the market...solved
world hunger...you know, no biggie.”

The redhead grinned. “A typical day NOT on the Hellmouth.”

The slayer smiled. “True. That makes up for a lot, being away
from there. Away from the....memories.”

Spike was surprised to hear a catch in her voice, and when he looked
at her, he could swear that her eyes had tears in them. “What’s wrong,
baby?”

“Buffy,” Willow said quietly. “You’ve got to let him go. For your own
peace of mind.”

Spike’s ears perked up. “Let WHO go?”

Looking at Willow, the tears brimmed over in her green eyes. “I...I
don’t think I can.”

Willow reached for Buffy’s hand, patting it gently. “He wouldn’t
want you to keep grieving this way.”

“I know...I know that,” Buffy said, wiping away an errant tear. “But
I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“By getting back up to where you were before,” Willow said
firmly. “You’ve got to go on living, Buffy. He told you that himself.”

“All right, now JUST ONE SECOND,” Spike shouted, standing
and holding up one hand.. “Just....wait!.” He turned to face Buffy.
“Who are you grieving for, Slayer?”

“I know,” Buffy said, her voice trembling. “It’s...just so hard to
do when all I can think about is how much I screwed everything
up.”

“Oh, Buffy...please don’t cry,” Willow begged.

Spike instantly dropped to his knees beside the sofa. “She’s right,
baby. Don’t cry...not over me. I’m not worth one of your tears.”

Buffy wiped her cheeks dry. “Sometimes,” she said, “the worst
part is that everyone thinks I don’t want to talk about him. Like,
if we don’t discuss him, then we’ll all just forget him. As though
he was never a part of our lives.” She took a ragged breath. “He
tried so hard, Will, he really did. And we came so close...all that
last year, we came so close to fixing things...to making them right.”

“Oh, baby,” Spike said, longing to be able to touch her, to comfort
her a little. “We can still fix it...it’s not too late.”

Digging a handful of tissue out of her purse, Willow gave them
to Buffy, her hand passing right through Spike. “We don’t
bring up the subject because we know it’s still painful for
you. But..if you want to talk about him, I’m here to listen. You
know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Buffy nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

Leaning back on the sofa, Willow smiled encouragingly. “I
wonder if he’d like it here?” she asked. “In Pacific Grove. Did
he like the ocean?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy said, after a short pause. “He liked big
cities. All the noise and the music...the lights.”

“The people,” Willow teased. “The happy meals.”

Buffy smiled. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“I DO like the ocean, luv. I’ve been living right next door to
one since I left you. And I’ve been right out in the sun, too. Little
perk they gave me.” Spike smiled when she did. “There’s that
gorgeous smile,” he murmured.

“Buffy...” Willow paused. “You loved him, didn’t you? And not
just at the end...you loved him before.” It wasn’t a question.

Spike held his metaphorical breath, waiting for her to reply.

She didn’t hesitate. “I loved him,” she admitted. “For so long
that I’m not sure when it started.”

“BLOODY HELL, GIRL!” He flung out his hands in his
frustration. “Why the HELL didn’t you open your mouth before
it was too late? You...stubborn, infuriating...irritating WOMAN!”

“I miss everything about him,” Buffy sniffled, trying not to cry
again. “The way he talked...the dirty jokes he used to make me
listen to...the way he would look at me after we made love. His
eyes were...so tender. Like I was the most wonderful thing he’d
ever seen.” She took a deep breath. “God, Willow...I want him
back.”

Spike leapt to his feet. “All right!” he yelled at the ceiling. “You
win! Yo, Sandy! Come and get me and let’s talk terms, luv. I’m
ready, so let’s get this...”

“And I really miss the sex.”

“...hang on a minute.” Spike looked at Buffy. “I told you
you’d miss it when the well ran dry, didn’t I? Didn’t I?”

“It was THAT good, huh?” Willow asked with a knowing
look.

“Good?” Buffy leaned back and smiled at some distant
memory. “That doesn’t even begin to describe it. It was
absolutely the best. He did things to me that I STILL can’t
believe.” She sighed. “The thought of...of never feeling that way
again...”

Spike’s heart hurt for her. His beautiful, passionate little slayer. Almost
a year, with nothing to quiet the hot blood that raged in her.

“Well, I’ll fix that up proper, baby,” he promised her. “You just sit
tight, and soon your Spike will will be making you scream the house
down again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Tearing himself away from her, he walked outside, wondering
what was taking the little pest so damn long. Used to be, he couldn’t
swing a dead cat without smacking her with it. Now, when he
actually NEEDED her for something, she was playing hide and seek.

“SANDY!” shouted. “You win the damn bet, all right? Now, come
on and let’s get going on this. My girl needs me, damn it!”

There was no response.

“Look...I promise I’ll never call you a flying monkey again, okay?
Sandy?”

He shouted until he was hoarse, but she didn’t appear.

Sitting down on the curb, he ran his hands through his hair in
frustration. “Fucking hell...son of a fucking bitch in fucking
hell...nasty little witch...never fucking around when I fucking
need her...”

“Profanity will get you nothing but a smack across the face, mister.”

It was Melisande’s voice, but she wasn’t attached to it.

“Where ARE you?” he demanded. “Can’t you fucking hear
me? You won the bet. You were right.”

“Oh, I heard you,” she replied. “And I knew I’d win the bet,
so it’s not exactly a big surprise.”

“Fine,” Spike said, standing up. “Then let’s go take care of this
and get me out of your hair, okay?”

There was a long pause.

“Sandy? Where the hell are you?” he asked again.

“I’m still here at the house. We’re having a little trouble with
the paging system, and the portal is sort of....stuck.”

“Wha...stuck?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Well, unstick
it! Come on...I gotta get back there so I can come back here. Soon!”

“Sorry, chum, no can do. I’m not in maintenance.”

Spike was ready to start tearing heads off. “Then find someone
who is. Where’s Peter?”

“I just told you...the paging system’s down. But, we’re working
on it. Everybody’s out looking for him, and as soon as we find
him we’ll get that portal unstuck and send you on your way.”

“Ohhhh...FUCK!” he bellowed, frustrated beyond the telling
of it.

“Hey! I’m no happier about this than you are,” Melisande
snapped. “I’ve already got your room cleaned out. The last
thing I need is for you to come back and start tracking sand in
again.”

Spike drew back one leg and unleashed a vicious kick at a
nearby trash can. His foot went right through it, and he landed on
his ass.

“Although,” she added. “I will admit that I’ll miss the entertainment.”

He stared up at the sky, trying to reclaim whatever small amount of
dignity he could still call his own. “When do you think...that it
might...be fixed?” he asked precisely.

“Verry soooon,” she assured him. “Keep your shorts on.”

Rolling over, Spike rose to his feet. “You don’t understand. Buffy
needs me. She needs me now.”

“What for?” Melisande asked. “What’s so important that it can’t
wait a few minutes...or maybe an hour...two at the outside?"


He brushed the dirt off his clothing. “She misses me, damn it,” he
bit out. “Do you KNOW what that means to me?”

There was a long silence, and he began to wonder if she’d
signed off.

“Ohhhh,” she said. “She ‘MISSES’ you. You mean in a carnal
way. Gotcha.”

“Sandy,” he implored. “Help me out, luv. For old times sake?
Please...I need your help.”

A moment later, he heard a sigh, and the leaves on the tree he
was standing under stirred.

“Why can’t I ever say no to you?” she mused.

Spike shrugged and smirked. “Cause you’re crazy about me.”

“I’m crazy, all right,” she muttered. “Okay...I’ll tell you a secret.
But if you blab, the deal’s off!” she warned him. “I’ll drag you
back here so fast you won’t have time to blink!”

“I won’t blab. Cross my heart and hope to you know what,” he
vowed.

“Even though you don’t have corporeal form there,” she whispered,
“there are...things...that you can do for her.”

“What?” Spike looked puzzled. “What things?”

“If YOU think I’m delving into the sordid details, you’re as mad
as a hatter,” she informed him. “You would know better than I
what ‘things’ she likes.”

“Oh,” he said. “Things...I get it.”

“Comes the dawn,” she said sarcastically.

“But hang on a second,” he said quickly. “I can’t touch anything
here. How can I do the things she likes?” He snickered, calling
up a fond memory. “Believe me, the things she likes require a lot
of touching. One time, she and I..”

“HEY!” she yelled. “Spare me the play by play, IF you don’t
mind!”

Spike could practically see her standing with her hands on her
hips, scolding him for one thing or another. “Sorry, luv. Forgot
your delicate sensibilities.”

“Well, watch it!” she replied. “Now...you’ve been there long enough
that some of your mortal capabilities have started to regenerate. Pretty
soon, you’ll be able to do some actual touching, and she’ll start
to feel your presence. Once that gets underway, she’ll start to hear
you...unconsciously at first.”

“All right,” he nodded. “Got it.”

“Just experiment a little, see what happens. But don’t get carried
away, Casanova, or you’ll scare the living daylights out of her.”

Spike straightened his clothes, forgetting that Buffy wouldn’t be able
to see him.

“I’ll keep an eye peeled around here,” Melisande said, “and as soon as
we’re up and running again, I’ll make sure we get you back fast.”

Moving towards the door, he stopped and scanned the sky. “Sandy?”

“What now?”

“Thanks, luv.”

The night was still for a moment, then he heard a soft laugh. “Go get
her, Romeo.”


Spike walked back through the door.

Melisande sighed with relief. Soon, this tangled ball of wrong would
finally be ironed out for good. Her charge would be back where he
belonged...and if that girl broke his surprisingly tender heart again,
she’d have to answer to a higher authority for it.

“Good luck, William,” she whispered, then went looking for their
missing repairman.


TBC.....
Feedback is appreciated

Spiritgasms...part three

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“If you decide someday to stop this little
game that you are playing..
I’m gonna tell you everything my heart has
been a’dying to be saying
Just like a ghost, you’ve been haunting
my dreams, so I’ll propose...on Halloween
Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl
like you...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike sat on the sofa, close to Buffy, and waited while she and Willow talked a little more. Every so often, he tested his tactile ability, and when
the sofa cushion he was poking began to show the tiniest crease, he decided
it was time to let Buffy in on the fact that he was going to be with her
again soon.

Sidling up closer, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Aren’t
you getting tired, sweetheart? You’ve had such a long day. Time for
bed now, all right?”

To his immense satisfaction, she yawned and stretched, then announced
that she was going to bed.

Willow stood up when she did, and gave her a hug. “If you need anything,
you know where I am.”

“You, too,” Buffy smiled. “Goodnight.”

Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, Spike trailed the slayer
up the stairs and into her bedroom. He stood by the door and watched as
she rummaged around in her dresser drawers for a nightgown, then
went into the bathroom and started the water running in the shower.

Deciding that wasn’t what he wanted, he followed her into the
bathroom and sat on the counter to watch her undress.

“God, baby...you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes
on. Did you know that? Did I remember to tell you how beautiful
you are? So small and delicate, you look like a stiff breeze would
carry you off to Oz.” He smiled as she brushed her teeth. “Still a
bear for the oral hygiene, I see. Well, I don’t blame you. I would be
too, if I’d had to pay Dawn’s dental bills.”

She pinned her hair up, and pulled clean towels out of the cabinet
beneath the sink.

“Your hair’s growing long again, luv. Did you let it grow for me...cause
you know how much I love it that way?”

Buffy pulled the shower curtain back.

“No, baby,” Spike said. “Take a bath. You need to soak in a hot tub. Relax
all over. Come on...turn off the shower and put the stopper in.” He leaned
closer, until he was almost touching her ear. “Take a bath, sweetheart.”

Delighted, he watched an indecisive look pass over her pretty face, then
she shrugged and did as he’d requested.

“Christ...if I’d known how well this would work, I’d have died again
YEARS ago.”

She reached into the cabinet and brought out a bottle of foaming bath
oil.

“Lavender,” he said approvingly. “My favorite. You remembered.”

The scent filled up the steamy room, making him feel a little light
headed. Another sign, perhaps, that he was progressing towards his
moment of reanimation.

“Careful,” he murmured, as she stepped into the tub. They had taken
a bath together once, and when she’d put her foot down in the tub, the
slick bath oil caused her to slip and land hard on her bottom, displacing
at least three gallons of water all over the bathroom floor. Then, they’d
made a little love....and displaced the rest of it.

Buffy placed a bath cushion behind her head and leaned back, closing
her eyes and sinking into the water. “Hmmmm,” she moaned, softly.

That sound went straight to his dick!

Kneeling beside the tub, he touched the tip of his finger to the water. A
tiny ripple fanned out, indiscernible to someone...unless they were
watching for it.

“Remember, Buffy? That night we took a bath together? Dawn was
off with her friends, and the witches were somewhere dancing in the
woods with their coven. We had the house all to ourselves.”

Buffy sighed and licked her lips.

“I poured the soap on that pink sponge you liked. Worked up a ton of
lather and spread it all over you, made you all slick and slippery. My
hands glided over you like you were made of satin.”

She murmured something he couldn’t understand.

“I spent a lot of time on your breasts...remember? I tried to move on
after a bit, but you kept taking my hand and putting it back there. You
would slide down a little into the water, then when you came back up
you’d feel the cool air make your nipples hard. Then I made them
harder. You were twisting around and whimpering like a kitten.”

Sitting up, Buffy reached for a sponge. A blue one, now.

“I cupped my hands under them...and pushed them together. I
kept playing with your nipples, pinching them a bit...tugging on them. I
wanted them in my mouth so badly,” he whispered. “You loved it when
I did that...when I licked and sucked your breasts. Remember, baby?”

A glob of bath gel was squirted on the sponge. She started at the
back of her neck, then slowly made her way down.

“Now...slide it down over your breasts. Lots of lather now. Make
them hard...I want to see you make them hard.”

He was sporting an erection that felt like an iron bar, and he had to
reach down to adjust his jeans.

“That’s how hot I am for you, baby. I’m fucking dead...and you’re
still turning me on like no other girl ever did. Just you. My dream
girl. The best dreams of my life were the ones you were in. And I
don’t just mean fucking, either. I used to dream about us being real
people, Buffy.”

He sat on his rear, leaning his back against the tub.

“You were just an ordinary girl.” He laughed. “Well...not ordinary.
You could never be ordinary, luv. But, you weren’t a slayer, and I
wasn’t a vampire. I was just a man who loved you. A man who
went off to a job every day, and then came home to you at night.” He
turned to look at her. “And we were happy.”

The sponge was on the move.

“That’s it,” he said. “Pretend it’s me, Buffy. I’m holding the
sponge...running it over your breasts. Your belly. Down between
your legs where you’re such a pretty shade of pink.”

He leaned closer. “Put your hand between your legs,” he directed
her, willing her to do it. “Touch yourself...rub your fingers against
your pussy...inside of it. Slide one in...”

She was doing everything he said, like they had some sort of
internal transmission system between them. A football coach and
his star quarterback.

“Put down the sponge, Buffy.”

It plopped into the water.

“Now, put your other hand down there...and find your clit. You
can...oh!” He smiled when she caught her breath. “Found it, did
you?”

Buffy exhaled deeply, tilting her head back. “Spike” she moaned,
almost inaudibly. “Oh...yes...more.”

Bloody hell! She was doing it! She was thinking about him!

“I’m here, baby. You’re not alone. Soon, I’LL be the one touching
you. I’ll make it all up to you, luv. Every minute you had to get through
on your own. Every tear you cried. Every time you needed me.” He
swallowed hard. “And I wasn’t there.”

He shook his head, sloughing off the melancholy mood.

“Faster, baby...move your finger in and out...come on, do it. That’s
my girl,” he whispered. “My passionate little slayer, with her wild
heart. Made for me.”

“Spike,” she whimpered quietly. “Mine...”

“Yes,” he said urgently. “Your’s. All your’s, baby. Always will
be.”

Buffy kept her eyes shut tight, concentrating on what she was doing.

Spike leaned a little closer. “Do it, baby. Come for me. Pretend that’s
my cock sliding in and out of you...ramming in...pounding in...hard
and fast. Do you feel it? Feel my cock inside you, Buffy. So hard...for
you. Only for you.”

Her face contorted, as she bit down on her lower lip.

“Going in deep, isn’t it? All the way in. Filling your little pussy
up. Make it tighter, baby...let me know you want it in there, don’t
want to let it out...tighter...”

Buffy arched her back as her fingers moved faster, touching and
teasing herself. She rubbed hard against that little knot of
flesh that he had licked so many times, driving her to orgasm after
orgasm.

Even now, he could taste her on his tongue. Tangy and juicy, like
some ripe tropical fruit that grew wild in the jungles of the South
Pacific. He would lash it with his tongue, over and over again, and
when he sensed her climax rushing towards her, would close his
mouth around it and suck hard as he pushed his middle finger up
into her drenched passage, pumping it roughly in and out.

And she would scream...

Scream so loud, his ears would ring.

He hadn’t heard that sound in so long. And he needed to hear it
again. Hear it with the fresh point of view he’d never had before.

He wanted to hear that scream and know that she loved him. To
know that she was screaming her pleasure AND her love, unarticulated
as it was in her calm moments.

But he couldn’t fulfill that need now. Not with someone in the house
who would come on the run if Buffy screamed.

No, that would have to wait.

Buffy’s entire body was straining for completion, her hips bucking
up into the relief she was taking from her own hand.

“...oh...oh...yes...” Tiny sounds were wrenched from her throat.

“Yes, baby,” he encouraged her. “That’s what you need. Give in
to it...take it...”

When he saw that she was on the verge of the bliss she sought, he
spoke directly into her ear.

“Think about me, Buffy,” he hissed. “See ME.”

It was the catalyst that pushed her over the edge. Biting her lip,
she gave herself over to the temporary madness.

Spike watched in utter fascination, as her body settled back
into the water.

“Buffy,” he said softly. “I was right. You ARE amazing.”

She sat up suddenly, opening her eyes and looking around the
room.

He sat very still. She seemed to be staring right at him, and he
wondered if something deep inside of her could truly see him,
could somehow know he was there.

But the feeling only lasted a moment. She shook her head, then
drained the water from the tub and climbed out.

Wrapping her towel around her, she switched off the bathroom
light and went back into her bedroom.

Spike smiled. Time for round two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC.....

Comments?

Spiritgasms...part 4

"You could be the devil in my head
You could be the angel in my bed
You could be the voices that I hear
I'm singing along
Because it sounds just like you're near..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Spike sat on the end of Buffy's bed as she
toweled herself off and slipped on her nightgown.

Smiling again like an idiot, his eyes moved up and
down her small frame. She had donned his absolute
favorite piece of sleepwear. Made of pink silk, it
had thin ribbon straps and fell to just above her
knees. The low neckline gave him a very nice
view of her cleavage whenever she leaned over.

"God, I could almost swear you know that I'm
here, luv. You chose that lavender bath oil and
now that nightgown. You know how much I love
that on you."

Buffy sat down in the small armchair by the window
and pulled the clips out of her hair. Spike watched
in complete delight as her honey blonde hair
tumbled down her back. Soft, wispy curls created
by the steamy bathroom framed her pretty face.

As she brushed her hair, she stared out the window
that was opened just enough to let in the cool night
breeze.He could smell the scent of the ocean's clean,
salty air as it drifted through the room.


When he looked back at Buffy, he saw that
she was finished with her hair, and was looking
up at the stars. Her sweet face looked sad. It
made his heart ache to see it, but he consoled himself
with the knowledge that he would be back with
her soon, and would do everything in his power
to make sure she was never sad like that again.

"Come to bed, baby," he said softly.

With a deep sigh, Buffy stood up and turned
out the lamp on her nightstand, then pulled
back the blankets and crawled in beneath them.
He waited until she'd settled herself for sleep,
then moved up beside her.

"Buffy," he whispered. "I love you, baby. I'm
trying like hell to get back to you. But...if I can't
manage it, please remember how much I love
you, and don't be too sad. I know you loved
me, too."

She turned on her side, cuddling her pillow.
Spike couldn't hold back a smile. She slept the
way a child sleeps, on her stomach, with one
leg pulled up. The only difference was that she
had her arms wrapped around a pillow and not
a teddy bear.

He took a quick look around the room, and saw
that she hadn't been able to salvage most of her
things from the house in Sunnydale. He recognized
a few items, some pictures and little knick-knacks
that she'd accumulated over the years. He could
see her photo albums stacked up on a shelf next
to her high school yearbook.

There wasn't much else from her childhood. This
was the bedroom of a grown woman, whereas her
old room had still retained the look and feel of a little
girl's, and then of the teenager she had been when
he'd first known her.

There were no rock star posters on these walls. In-
stead, she had hung framed prints by a few painters
he recognized.

The mirror over her vanity table was no longer cluttered
with snapshots and souvenirs of high school dances
and football games.

All that remained of her myriad collection of stuffed
animals was her little pig. He was glad to see it had
been rescued from whatever fate had befallen his
compatriots. "Well, well....Mr. Gordo. I see you caught
the last bus out of town. You been taking good care of
our girl?"

He started when Buffy suddenly turned her head sharp-
ly in his direction. Rolling over in bed, she sat up
and stuck her finger in her ear, then wiggled it the
way someone does when they've just climbed out of
a swimming pool.

"Lie down, sweetie," he said softly.
Without a moment's hesitation, she did as he told
her.

Spike grinned hugely. If only she would keep up this
blind obedience once he was properly able to take
advantage of it.


It would be a lot of fun for a while, but he loved Buffy's
spirit and sass, and the challenge she always presented
him with. Even after they had begun their
physical relationship, this little girl could play hard-to-
get with the best of them when it suited her to, and
he'd always found it wildly exciting when she did.

Sometimes she would present him with a cold
shoulder and a distant attitude. Other times, she
would literally BE hard to get, running from him like
the devil was on her heels, laughing and taunting
him to try and catch her. They had spent more than
one pleasant interlude rolling in the wet grass
of some park he'd pursued her through.

Just the memory of those times was making him
achingly hard once again.

Lying beside him, Buffy sighed restlessly. She
kicked the covers off, as though she was unbearably
hot beneath them.

"Maybe" Spike whispered, leaning closer, "you should
take off your nightgown and sleep naked. The way
we used to...remember, luv? We never put on any-
thing when we slept. We didn't want it to get in the
way if one of us woke up and wanted to make love."

Buffy had always been sweetly accomodating when
that happened to him. It was as though she knew that
he couldn't help it, that sometimes he would wake up
with an urgent need to be buried deeply inside of her.





Most girls would throw a bitch fit if a fella interrupted
their sleep, would call him selfish and demanding
for feeling as though he might as well just pack it
all in if he couldn't make love right then and there to
the woman he couldn't exist without.

But, as difficult as Buffy could certainly be, she never
turned him down when he absolutely could not stand
to go another instant without the sweet promise of her
body lying beneath his.

He remembered one time he had woken her up very
early in the morning. She had been exhausted from
a productive patrol the night before, and hadn't even
been totally awake when he'd moved on top of her.

She'd warned him that she was too sleepy to parti-
cipate in the fun and games, but he had slipped
inside of her and began thrusting anyway, explain-
ing that it was all right..that she didn't have to do a
thing..because, every once in a while, there was no-
thing better than a good, old-fashioned, one-sided
Victorian fuck.

"Come on, luv...take it off. You know you want
to," he urged her. "Pretend I'm beside you, begging
you." He chuckled softly. "You loved to make me beg,
didn't you? Satisfied that dominatrix streak of
yours. And it worked, too. All you had to was wiggle
that shapely little arse and I was on my knees."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Cause you're so beautiful
You're beautiful today
You're so beautiful
Beautiful in every way..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Take your gown off, darling. I want to
see you naked again."

Buffy thrashed around on the bed, as though
searching for a comfortable spot to sleep in,
then sat up.

"Too damn hot in here," she mumbled, whipping
the pink silk off and tossing it on the floor.

Flopping back down on the bed, she stared up at
the ceiling. "Go to sleep," she commanded herself,
then closed her eyes.

"Not yet, luv," Spike said. Deciding to experiment
a little, he extended one hand and touched her
arm with the tip of his index finger.

The sensation raced through him. He could feel it! Light
and fragile though it was, he had made some kind of
contact!

Spike could tell by the way Buffy caught her breath
that she had felt something as well.

"Buffy...spread your legs. Spread them wide apart. I
want to try something."

Sighing deeply, she complied. Her eyes were closed,
and her arms slipped underneath her pillow.

He moved down on the bed, and into the space between
her parted thighs. Gazing down at her, he licked his
lips.

There it was...his own paradise on earth. The sweetest
piece of female flesh he'd ever tasted.

She was as pretty down there as she was everywhere else.
Her thighs were lightly tanned, and
her sex was adorned with neatly trimmed, light brown
curls. When she was aroused, those curls glistened
with the moisture her healthy young body provided.

Lowering his head, he trailed his tongue down her
cleft, then waited for her reaction.

Although her eyes were still closed, he could tell
by the way she tensed up that she had, on some
level, felt what he had just done.

After a moment, her head lolled to one side and
her lips parted. He saw her little pink tongue creep
out and moisten those lips, then she took a deep
breath and slowly released it.

"Again," she whispered on a sigh.

Smiling, he dipped his head back down and licked
her from bottom to top, ending with a gentle suck
at her clit.

Surely she would know what was happening. He
had always begun going down on her that way.

He waited, and she lifted her hips ever so slightly.

"Spike," she whimpered. "Please...."


"Yes, baby. Anything for you," he promised, then
sank back down, licking and sucking, eating her
until she was panting.


"Come on, baby," he said, stopping briefly. "Do
it. I want to taste that cream. I'm so fucking hungry
for it..."

When he went back down, he was delighted to find
that he could exert a little more pressure, and that
he was beginning to taste her. It was just the tiniest
amount...like faintly flavored water...but it was there.

Her breathing escalated and he knew she was
close. Hoping like hell that it would cooperate, he
stiffened his tongue and pushed it up into her as
deeply as he could force it to go.

"Ahh...oh...oh, God," Buffy moaned. Her hips began
rising and falling as he swept his tongue around
and around her pussy.

She came when he moved back to her clit and
lashed it roughly with his tongue. Her taste was
stronger now, and he licked her hard, shaking his
head just a little for some vibration.

When it was over, Buffy went limp on the bed
and panted for air.

"Oh, God...what the hell IS that?" she whined.

Spike grinned. "It's me, baby. I'm on my way
back to you. Gonna make my girl feel soooo
good just as soon as I can."

He climbed off the bed and walked through the
bedroom wall and onto a small brick terrace.


Scanning the midnight blue sky, he placed
his thumb and index finger in his mouth and released
a piercing whistle.

"SANDY?" he called out. "How's about a progress
report, luv?”

He waited, but all he heard was the sound of
waves hitting the rock formations, slithering
in and back out of the little caves and grottos.

"Ah, come on, Sandy," he groaned. "I'm going
nuts down here. If I can't touch her properly real
damn soon...I'll...well, I won't be responsible for
whatever happens," he added as a warning.

"Don't you threaten ME, you unregenerate
hooligan," Melisande said sharply.

Spike laughed. "Ooohh...got your big words on
today, Tinkerbell. I'd best be worried, eh?"

She was silent for a moment. "How would you
like me to disconnect you and just leave you
there the way you are?" she asked.

"No...no, I wouldn't like that one bit," he said
quickly.

"Well, for someone who wouldn't like it," she
informed him, "you sure are begging for it."

"I'm sorry," he said winningly. "I'll be good, I
promise."

He heard a disbelieving snort. "What do you want
now?" she asked.

"I just wondered how the repairs are going, luv. You
any closer to fixing the portal?"

Melisande sighed. "I have good news and bad
news," she reported. "What do you want first?"

Spike slapped one hand to his forehead. He hated
hearing things like that. The good news was never
really all that much better than the bad news.

"The good news," he said wearily.

"We found Peter."

"And the bad?"

"We lost him again."

"WHAT?" Spike shouted. "HOW?"

"Oh, we didn't actually LOSE him, as in we can't
find him," Sandy explained confusingly. "It's just
that he's...well..."

"He's drunk!" Spike snapped. "Again!"

"He got into the sacramental wine with Paul and
Luke. You know how they get."


"Yes! I know how they get!" Spike was almost
livid with frustration. "They're a bunch of old
fools who spend all their time with their snoots in
a wine jug, bragging about their glory days with
the big boss." He waved his hands in irritated
disgust. "Fine way to behave in front of...."

"Speaks the sober and abstemious young THUG
who painted the front gates red and hung a sign
saying 'Spike's Place...We Specialize In
The Seven Deadly Sins,' " she replied dryly.

Spike rolled his eyes. He'd always known THAT
little stunt would come back and bite him in the
ass someday. "Hey!" he said, pointing one finger.
"I apologized for that...AND...I repainted those
gates the very next day, even though I had the
worst fucking hangover of my life."

"All right," Sandy said reasonably. "What about the
time you convinced Michael and Raphael to go back
to the year 1880 and visit an establishment known
as 'Madam Claire's' in order to, and I quote, 'Get
their ya-ya's out and lose their buggering innocence
once and for all'."

"What?" he asked, shrugging. "It was just a pub."

"It was a brothel!"

Spike couldn't help it. He snickered. "Yeah," he said,
remembering his own exploits there. "It was a hell of
a good one, too," he mused fondly.

"Indeed?" she inquired frostily. "And you know this
because...?"

He ducked his head. "Never mind," he muttered, then
said, "But, anyway...it's not like anything bad happened."

"Because Gabriel got there in time to stop you!" Sandy
said loudly. "You three were so inebriated you could
barely stand up. Goodness only knows WHAT could
have happened."

"Oh, come on, luv." He tried to placate her. "The WORST
thing that could have happened was they'd have gotten
shagged. Ain't hardly the end of the world now, is it?"

Melisande sighed once again. "Must I remind you that
they are ARCHANGELS? Their STRENGTH..is IN..their
PURITY!" she said deliberately.

"Well, yeah but I...."

"And don't even get me started on the time you
taught the Heavenly Choir that dreadful song."

"Come on!" he said defensively. "That song happens
to be a classic little piece of music, I'll have
you know."

"SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL?" she squealed,
hurting his ears. "Do you honestly think THAT
is the type of song that a certain someone wants
to hear?"

"I just..."

"You corrupted the Heavenly Choir!" she shouted
him down. "If there is ANYONE with no stones
left to throw when it comes to the subject of in-
temperate behavior, that individual would be YOU!"

Spike was sorry he'd brought the subject
up in the first place. "So, what's the story on
Peter?" he asked, hoping to smooth her ruffled
white feathers.

"Peter," she replied tartly, "is quite happily asleep
in a rowboat in the middle of the lake."

"He went fishing?"

"He went fishing."

Spike closed his eyes and massaged his temples,
as if he were trying to soothe a monstrous head-
ache.

"Can somebody go and get him? Please?"

"We're working on it," Sandy said. "I'll get back
to you, so just...behave yourself."

He sank down onto a small stone bench to wait,
but then began to cast his eyes longingly towards
the french doors leading to Buffy's bedroom.

A slow smile began to form on his face.

"Well...looks like I won't be going anywhere
just now, anyway."

He stood up and stepped back through the
doors. There was an infinitesimal amount of
resistance this time, which had to mean that he
was starting to become more solid.

"About fucking time," he muttered.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I could be the drug you can't resist
I could be the antidote you missed
I could be the love you hate to fear
You're filling the hole inside your heart
With feeling near to me...

Cause you're so beautiful
You're beautiful today
You're so beautiful
Beautiful in every way
Cause when you're coming around
I'm off the ground, I have to say
You're so beautiful
So beautiful today...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC....
Comments are welcome! Please!

Part Five...



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her?
Did I try in every way
To show her every day
That she's my only one?


And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Buffy lay sprawled out on the bed, a perfect
picture of ravaged sensuality, with touseled
hair and flushed skin wearing only a light sheen
of perspiration.

On her face, was the smile of a woman calming
in the afterglow of a satisfactory romp between the
sheets.

Spike remembered that particular smile quite
well. It was one of his favorites, although she had
many different versions of it.

When she was happy, it showed on her face in a
knock-out smile that made her seem incandes-
cent. Her small teeth showed a dazzling display
of perfect dentition, and her grass green eyes
sparkled with good humor.

The victorious grin she sported after winning a
well fought battle was another one he was quite
fond of. The fire in her eyes was a dangerous
gleam at those times. With her lips slightly parted
and her cheeks flushed with exertion, his little
warrior princess was a breathtaking sight.

But the smile she was wearing now was the
one that could drive him to his knees. The moist
curve of her lips, along with the sleepy and un-
focused look in her eyes, was a lethal combination
that could make him half mad with the desire
to take her again and again.

It was the memory of that smile that he had
taken with him on the night he had left her to
try and find some remnant of the man he had
once been...the man that she deserved.

He sat down on the bed carefully, then moved
close to her and whispered in her ear. "I love
you, Buffy."

Her head turned, and she seemed to be looking
right at him. She lifted one hand and reached
out with it, but it moved through him and neither
of them felt her tender touch.

Sighing, he rolled onto his back beside her. "I'm
sorry for what I said...you know...that last time we
were together. And I'm sorry that I didn't believe you.
I..I just thought you were trying to be..I dunno..kind
to someone who was about to...to die. Permanently."

Buffy sat up and pushed her messy hair out of her
eyes. She turned and stared out the window, listening
to the sound of the surf meeting the shore.

Spike watched her, wondering what she was thinking.

"But, listen baby," he added, sitting up as well. "I'm
coming back to you. You don't have to be sad anymore,
luv. And if you say it...WHEN you say it again...I'll believe
you...and I'll say it back. Swear to God I will."

She shivered slightly, even though it was a warm night.

"I just hope you're glad to see me." Spike chuckled. "Be-
cause the place I was at...I don't think they'll let me back
in again. Soul or no soul. I..well I got into a few scrapes
when I was there." He smiled fondly at the memory. "You
know me, luv. If there's a bit of hell to be raised, I'll raise
it. Even in Heaven."

Wrapping the top sheet around her, Buffy climbed out
of her bed and moved to the french doors. She threw them
open wide and looked up at the stars.

Spike followed her. "I got so much to tell you, Buffy, about
where I was. F'rinstance...do you know that every one
of those stars up there has a name? And I don't mean
the names that people gave them. I'm talking about the
names they were given when they were created."

He stepped up directly behind her. "Melisande..she's my
guide. I told you about her, remember? Anyway, she told
me that no one knows their names..except for the big
noise up there, of course. The names are all written
down in a book they've got, and every time a new one is born,
they add the name to the book. So, you can imagine how
big the frigging thing is."

Buffy smiled as if she'd heard him.

Spike's voice dropped to a lower register. "I shouldn't
be telling you this," he said, "but I learned a secret
about Heaven. It's..."

"What did I tell you about blabbing secrets? Are you
TRYING to get the rug pulled out from under you?"

Briefly startled at Melisande's voice, he recovered
quickly. "Sandy? Give me some good news, luv."

"Well..."

"Did you find Peter?" he asked, stepping out on
the terrace.

"I was just..."

"Is he fixing the portal?"

"I'm trying to ..."

"Tell him to move his bloody arse, will you? Nose
to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel and all
that."

"If you don't stop interrupting me, I will glue your
mouth shut," she warned. "Now LISTEN to me.
The portal is fixed, but..."

"But, what?" He scowled fiercely. "But, WHAT?"

"Well, we seem to have...misplaced...the key."

Spike couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You..
you've lost it? YOU'VE LOST THE FUCKING KEY?" He
threw his hands up in frustration. "That's just perfect...
just bloody wonderful! What kind of a fly by night
operation are you running up there?"

"Lower your voice."

"Fuck my voice! What the hell is wrong with you peo-
ple? What..you can remember the name of every star
in the sky but you can't remember where you left your
keys?"

Melisande waited out his tantrum with surprisingly
good patience. "You know...you're on very thin ice,
and you're jumping up and down on it."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Fucking story of my fucking
life, Tinkerbell," he growled.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," she replied. "Now go back in
there with your girlfriend. It won't be much longer."

An unseen hand on his back shoved him through
the doors and back into Buffy's bedroom.

She was still standing by the door, still searching
the skies for something.

"Spike," she said softly, instantly riveting his attention
on her. "Are you up there someplace?"

"No, baby...I'm right here. I'm with you." He stood
close to her and took in the scent of her hair. "Can't
you feel me, luv? I'm so close, I can feel the warmth
of your body."

He was shocked to see a tear trace slowly down her
cheek. "No, don't cry," he pleaded. "It won't be much
longer now. Sandy promised."

"Spike...if you can hear me," Buffy murmured, wiping
her cheek against the back of her hand. "I want you
to know that I meant what I said. I love you. I've loved
you for so long that I'm not..really sure when it started,
but...but I'd give anything to have another chance to
tell you."

"You'll get that chance, baby," he vowed. "We both will."


~~~~~

"Cause I've lost loved ones in my life
Who never knew how much I loved them
Now I live with the regret
That my true feelings for them
Never were revealed

So I made a promise to myself
To say each day how much she means to me
And avoid that circumstance
Where there's no second chance
To tell her how I feel..."

~~~~~

She pulled the french doors closed and crawled
back into bed. The sheet she had draped herself
in fell away, leaving her beautifully naked.

Automatically, as he had done so many times in the
past, he undressed and slipped into bed beside her.

"Lie down on your back, luv."

When she did as he asked, he placed one hand
lightly on her stomach. He could feel her soft skin
beneath his touch, and he smiled when he heard her
inhale sharply.

Without another thought, he moved his hand up
to her breasts and fondled them, rubbing his thumb
firmly over her hard nipples.

"Oh, God..." he heard her moan. "Spike..."

"Yes, baby. I'm here," he said. "I'm touching you. You
feel it, don't you?"

"Please...oh, please..."

He smiled as she arched her back, seeking a firmer
touch. Slightly amazed that it was actually working, he
tightened his fingers around her soft flesh and squeezed
gently.

"Buffy...I can feel you more and more." Leaning over,
he slid his tongue around and around her nipples, making
her gasp and pant, and dig her nails into the mattress.

"I've missed the way you taste, luv," he whispered.

Looking up at her, he could see that her eyes were
open and she looked dazed. Closing his mouth around
her nipple, he sucked it firmly.

When he moved one hand down between her thighs,
she opened them without being told to. His fingers
quickly found the place of her greatest sensitivity and
rubbed it.

Buffy's head thrashed on the pillow, as he probed her
deeply, sliding his finger in and out of her. A flow of wet-
ness made his hand slick as he caressed her.

"Spike..." Her voice was frantic. "I need you...I need you.."

Her words unraveled all of his self control. Without
pausing to think, he moved between her splayed legs and
rubbed the head of his cock against her wetness.

When he was settled in the right spot, he began to push
himself inside of her.

"Fuck," he moaned. "It's working...it's bloody working."

He pulled out, careful not to leave her body entirely, then
slid his length back in, groaning at the exquisite sensation
of being inside her again, something he had never expected
to happen.

She drew her knees up until her feet were flat on the
bed. Lifting her hips, she met his thrusts boldly. "More,"
she whimpered. "Harder..."

He obliged her. His body was definitely becoming more
solid with each thrust.

"Buffy," he moaned in her ear. "I love you...I love you."

"S..Spike?"

He opened his eyes and found her staring at him. She
looked confused and he wondered if she could really see
him as well as feel him. "I'm here, luv. I'm right here."

His hips moved faster, pounding into her like a machine.

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy," he whispered, over and over again.
"Yes, baby...that's it...ahh...that's my girl."

The pleasure was unbelievable, and he couldn't help re-
membering the time when their roles had been reversed,
when she had been the unseen one and he had lain on
top of her, thrusting slowly.

He was so involved with what he was doing that he
didn't notice it when Melisande materialized next to
the bed.

"Good news!" she said brightly. "I found the...oh!" She
whipped around, turning her back on the lovers. "Well,
this is embarrassing," she muttered.

She counted silently to sixty, but there was no sign that
anything was about to end, so she walked out onto the
terrace.

"Umm...I was wondering," she said, looking skyward. "Do
we need to have him come all the way back there for
this?...It just seems like an awful lot of trouble and they're
kind of busy...Yes, Sir..I know he's been a pain in the
neck...Who knows that better than me?...Okay, YOU do,
but...Well, he's tried...I know, but he can't really help
it...Yes, but what real harm did it do?...Besides that, I
mean...I know, but...Yes, that's true, but you don't...I
guess so, but I...Okay, if you won't do it for him, then do
it for her...Well, YOU'RE the one who chose her...Please,
sir...In almost five thousand years, I've never asked you
for anything personal...Thank you...Yes...I'm on my
way..."

She crept quietly back to the door and listened. It didn't
sound like they were anywhere near done.

"Okay, pal," she said. "It's up to you now. Don't screw it
up...and if you need me, you know where I am."

Smiling, she blew them both a kiss and disappeared.


~~~~~

"If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her?
Did I try in every way
To show her every day
That she's my only one?

And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes..."

~~~~~

He could feel her wrapping her legs around
his waist, sinking her nails into his back.

Propping himself on his forearms, he moved his
hips from side to side, changing the angle of his
penetration and savoring the sound of pleasure she
made.

His head tilted and he closed his eyes tightly, con-
centrating. "Baby...yes...oh, yes...feels so good...so
right...a little harder, honey...that's it...do it...
fuck me, back...yeah...yeah..."

Below him, Buffy pushed her lower body up hard,
wanting him to slam into her with all of his strength.

"I love you," she panted. "Spike...I love you. Oh, God,
I do...I really do...please...please, believe me..."

"I do, baby...I love you, too...I love you...and I'm...
oh, Buffy...I'm gonna come...I'm sorry, it's just...been so
long...I can't...I can't wait anymore...I...oh, fuck...
oh, yeah...can you feel it?...I'm coming in you, baby...
you come, too...please, baby...come with me...I need
it..."

Three more hard thrusts took him over the edge, and
he held tightly to her, bringing her with him.

When it was over, he collapsed in her arms.

"Spike?" she whispered after a moment. "Is this real?"

With a huge effort, he lifted his head and looked into
her eyes. "Yes," he said. "I think it is."

Although he wasn't sure exactly what had happened,
he was positive that Sandy must have had a hand in
it somewhere.

Buffy placed her hands on either side of his face,
checking for the feel of solid bone and muscle be-
neath her fingertips.

"You're...you're really here? You're back?" Tears began
to form in her eyes. "How?"

Spike shook his head, unsure of just how he could ex-
plain. "It's...kind of a long story. I..."

But she shook her head. "Never mind," she said, clutch-
ing at him. "I don't care how...as long as you're really
here."

He lowered his head, and their lips met in a sweet,
lingering kiss.

When he pulled back, he smiled at her. "Did that feel
real to you?"

"Yes," she nodded, returning his smile. "Very real."

The tears that had been shining in her eyes were
gone. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but
the only thing of any real importance was very simply
put. "I love you, Buffy."

"I love you, too," she said, leaning hard on the words.
"I really do!"

"I know you do, baby." He sighed and hugged her. "I
know you do."


~~~~~

"So tell that someone that you love
Just what you're thinking of
If tomorrow never comes..."

~~~~~



ONE YEAR LATER...


"It was a nice wedding, wasn't it?"

Melisande removed her hat and tossed it onto a
chair, then looked up and smiled.

"Thank you for seeing me so quickly. I know how busy
things are." She took a deep breath. "I wanted to ask
you a favor...Yes, it's about him again...I know, but
he's been doing so well...I know you did, and I'm sure
they appreciated the warm weather...Outdoor weddings
can be tricky this time of year...Yes, all the extra star-
light was lovely...the full moon was a bit of a shock...
yes, but twice in one month?...They're going nuts down there
trying to figure it out...I don't know if...Oh, yes, sorry.
I don't mean to stall...Yes, sir...Do you think a small
miracle could be arranged?...Well, it's like this..."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EIGHT WEEKS LATER...


Spike looked at Buffy, then down at the piece
of plastic in his hand, then back at Buffy, grinning
from ear to ear.

"Pregnant?!"




~~~The End~~