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.

Many thanks again to DoS, for being my uber cool beta! :)

“Thank God!” Spike exclaimed as he slammed the door behind him. “You scared me half to death—or more to death!” He could have killed her for scaring him like that! He had told her not to leave him, not to go anywhere on her own, and she should know better by now anyway, growing up on a Hellmouth and all.

He had failed Buffy before – and he would not let it happen again, not as long as he had Dawn to take care of. “You—I could kill you!”

Dawn slowly made her trek down the stairs, her eyes wide with shock. Spike had never spoken to her like that before. She realized now that she probably shouldn’t have run off like she had, but he would have to understand, now, wouldn’t he?

Buffy was back!

Wait, she thought. How am I going to tell Spike that Buffy’s back?

The vampire had loved her sister more than anything in the world. How was she going to tell him?

“Spike...” she entreated slowly, trying to capture the angry vampire’s attention, while she tried to figure out just what she was going to say once she had it.

“I mean it!” Spike told her menacingly. “I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brain stem.”

His chest heaved with emotion that even his rather descriptive words could not describe. He loved the nib, he really did, but why the hell did she have to scare him like that? What was so bloody important that she would go off by herself when she knew that demon motorcyclists were rampaging through her neighborhood?

Dawn was looking at him so strangely. What the hell was going on?

He realized suddenly that he could smell Buffy.

Of course, in this house, he could always smell her, but this was…different. Her scent was more…potent…than usual.

Of course you can smell her, you sod. You are in her bleeding house. Nibblet was probably in her room, is all.

Seeing the destruction that the demons had made of the Buffybot had been harder than he would have thought. To see Buffy broken, again…it made him want to scream to the heavens about just how fucking wrong it was. He wished he had never had the bleeding Bot made in the first place. Now all it was, was just a fucking reminder of what could be here… should be here.

It made him sick every time he looked at it. He was glad it was gone.

“Spike,” Dawn entreated, breaking him out of his mental rant. “Look…”

Spike looked up the stairs to see the stupid bloody bot walking down toward him. “Yeah? Seen the bloody bot before. Didn’t think she’d patch up so…”

Suddenly – Spike’s brain stopped working, frozen in a state of dream-like disbelief.

It was Buffy.

She was looking at him with those gorgeous emerald eyes that he had dreamed of for the last 147 days.

Buffy…

His demon purred with pleasure, drinking in her scent. So familiar, yet so foreign, after so long. With every step she took nearer to him, his demon screamed, MINE! Yet, Spike knew that was not to be. She would never be his; he could never be what she wanted. But then – why was his demon so possessive of her? Why did he feel like he was being pulled toward whatever Buffy wanted?

What she bloody well wants, he reminded himself bitterly, is nothing to do with you, you stupid sod.

But…the way she was looking at him…like she needed him.

Like she loved him!

As Buffy came to a stop on the last step, Dawn decided that it was time to break the ice. “She…she’s been through a lot…with the…death…” Dawn paused awkwardly, looking back and forth from Buffy to Spike. Why were they looking at each other like that? “…but I think she’s okay…” Dawn gave Buffy a reassuring smile, which was gently returned by her sister.

She would be okay – wouldn’t she?

Spike couldn’t take his eyes from Buffy. She was real…and back home. He wanted to cry…he wanted to laugh…he wanted to grab her and hold her for all eternity. He wanted to be with her…hear her laugh…Oh God..he was love’s bitch, wasn’t he?

“Spike?” Dawn asked, pulling him out of his thoughts with concern in her voice. “Are you okay?”

”I’m…” Spike paused, trying to find the words…words that could somehow come out, around the lump in his throat. “What did you do?” he asked in an achingly sorrowful whisper, watching Buffy as she watched him.

“Me?” Dawn asked, her voice high pitched. “Nothing.”

Buffy watched the conversation between her sister and her vampire with a closed expression. From the way they were talking, she was back from the dead for the second time…or was it third? She couldn’t keep track anymore.

She had to play it cool. She couldn’t give away too much. This could be a trick of some kind.

I’m in hell…she thought, bringing her hands up to her chest. This just can’t be a trick…I couldn’t take losing him again…

“Her hands…” Spike suddenly remarked, motioning toward Buffy’s bloody knuckles.

“Uh…I was going to fix them. I don’t know how they got like that.”

“I do.” Spike closed his eyes for a moment. To think of what his angel had had to go through! “Clawed her way out of a coffin, that’s how.” Spike looked at Buffy with tenderness and compassion, wishing that he could just take her into his arms and make all of her hurt go away. “Innit that right?”

Buffy looked down, trying to remember what she had told him so many years ago – the first time she had played this scene out. “Yeah…it’s what I had to do.” She looked at Spike with hopeful eyes, realizing that this wasn’t just like the first time around; she could still feel the claim that had bound them nearly two years after this scene had originally taken place.

If she could still feel the claim, could he feel it too?

“Done the same thing myself.” Spike told her. His demon kept screaming at him, telling him to take her in his arms and never let her go. But he couldn’t…not if he valued his unlife. Buffy would never allow him to touch her like that; he had to keep his distance.

Spike! Buffy’s mind screamed. Hear me, please! I love you! I need you…

Buffy watched as Spike tilted his head in apparent confusion. She could hear his demon purring in her own mind.

He heard me! Oh god…Spike...

She was hopeful. For the first time in six months she was hopeful.

“Um…we’ll take care of you.” Spike told her, reaching to touch her shoulder as she made her way down the rest of the stairs. “Come on…” he whispered, his cold fingers gently touching her warm shoulder. The simple touch sent shivers and sparks through both of them. They looked at each other for a moment, before Spike turned his attention momentarily to Dawn. “Get some stuff. Mercurochrome and bandages.”

Spike followed Buffy to the couch, studying her with watchful eyes.

Something was off.

He wasn’t quite sure what, but something was not the same about the Slayer.

As she sat down, he tried to imagine what could possibly be wrong with this moment. His Slayer was alive and there. He sat down in front of her, taking her trembling hands in his. He could feel the warmth from her fingers seeping into his long dead flesh, could hear her heart beating strong and true in her chest.

Buffy looked into the eyes of the man she loved. This was like a dream. If this was hell, at the moment she didn’t care. His hands here holding hers, he was alive.

Well, as alive as he could get.

And he was looking at her with those beautiful cobalt eyes, and she finally felt her life regain the meaning it had lost when she had lost him. She was meant to be with him – meant to love this vampire. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it might break her chest – but she had to remain calm. She didn’t know if she could explain to him what it was that she was feeling.

“How long was I gone?”

Buffy could feel his emotions through their bond. Was she the only one feeling it?

“Uh…” Spike began, only to clear his throat of emotion. “One hundred and forty-seven days yesterday…148 today.” He smiled hesitantly into her eyes. “But today doesn’t count, does it?”

Buffy smiled slightly, squeezing his hands in her own.

“How long was it for you?” Spike asked, wanting to know everything about why she was there, close enough for him to touch.

Buffy thought about the six months after his death – her six months of hell.

“Longer.”

When Spike only nodded, Buffy decided to take things into her own hands.
“Spike…” When his eyes met hers, she continued, “No matter what happens, please don’t leave me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, choked with emotion.

Spike sighed then, his own emotions coming to the front. “Buffy…” he whispered reverently, pulling her into his arms with relief as she allowed it. “I’m so sorry for all of this, pet. If I could take that day back, I would…I would have found a way…”

“No!” Buffy shouted, burying herself in his arms, her face in his duster. “No... I couldn’t bear it if I lost you again.”

Thinking she meant her own meeting with death, he clucked his tongue. “Oh, pet…I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Buffy looked up then, at the face she knew so well. “Spike, I need to tell you something -- something important.”

“What is it, luv?”

“I…”

The door opened with an audible crash. “Is she here? Where is she?” She turned toward the door, and could see her friends stumbling into the house in their haste to find her. “She’s here!” She heard one of the cry, the excited voice choked with emotion.

“I’ll tell you later, Spike. I promise!” She whispered, getting up and releasing his hands. She turned back to him, a small smile on her face. “Remember, no leaving, okay?”

Spike grimaced, his face contorted with displeasure – as if leaving had been exactly what he had had in mind at that moment. “Whatever you say, luv.”


~~~~~.

After Buffy’s hellos to her friends had been completed, and she had assured all of them that she would be fine, and they should all just go home, she was finally alone with Spike and Dawn.

“Dawnie..” Buffy whispered, grabbing her sister and pulling her into a tight hug. “I missed you, honey. I really did.” Buffy was trying hard to contain her emotions, lest she should freak her little sister out with the intensity of her affection. She was determined that no matter what, she would not Dawn like she had treated her before – she deserved more than that.

“I missed you, too.” Dawn whispered, burying her face in Buffy’s neck. “I missed you so much!”

Buffy caressed her hair, whispering soothing, meaningless words of comfort. “I know, honey. Things will be better now, okay?” Buffy promised, pulling her back up to look her in the eye. “Now go upstairs and go to bed. You have school tomorrow.”

Dawn pulled a face. “Buffy, you just got back! Can’t you call and say that we had a family emergency or something?” she whined, her lower lip coming into play.

Buffy laughed, shaking her head. “No, Dawn. I will be here when you get home from school, I promise. Now, I need to talk to Spike, so go upstairs and get some sleep. I’ll call Xander and ask him to pick you up for school.”

As Dawn made her way upstairs, after saying goodnight to Spike, Buffy turned her attention to the vampire currently sitting on her couch – patiently waiting for whatever attention she might deign to pass his way. He looked so lost, so uncertain, that she just wanted to hold him forever – or at least until that uncertainty was gone.

She knew this had to be terribly hard for him to understand, and the last thing she wanted was to confuse him. She knew he had questions, but she didn’t know how much of the answers she wanted to provide just yet. If she told him the whole truth all at once, he would likely think she was crazy – experiencing the after-effects of her traumatic ordeal.

Slowly, calmly, she made her way over to the couch and sat down next to him.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

“I know you aren’t too happy with Willow and Xander for bringing me back,” Buffy began, looking down at her hands. “I just don’t want you to hate them for it.”

Spike looked at her for a long time before he answered her. “Buffy, I’m not mad at them for bringing you back. I mean, you are back, so there’s really no reason to be angry, I guess. I just wish they would have let me know what they were doing.” Spike exhaled an unneeded breath before continuing, his voice low and earnest. “Buffy, I worked with them all summer while you were gone…they asked me to take care of the bit all the time…I don’t know, I guess I thought I had earned their trust, is all.” A sardonic grin graced his lips. “Guess not, eh?”

She had no answer for those words, aware that he had already spoken the painful truth. They just sat there and looked at each other for a long time, neither one of them moving. Buffy was so confused. What – how much – should she tell him? Should she tell him that they were mated? Would he be able to feel it, once she had brought it to his attention?

“Spike?” Buffy began again cautiously, taking his hand in hers.

“Yeah, luv?” Spike asked, squeezing her hand with his own in a gesture of encouragement, knowing that there was something she wanted to say, but was having difficulty getting out.

“Do I feel different to you?” she asked, looking into his questioning eyes with a piercing gaze.

Spike’s brow furrowed. “No…why would you feel different, luv?” he asked, his free hand coming up to her face, then gently tracing down one silken cheek. His gaze lingered on his own hand for a long time, before he seemed to snap out of whatever daze he had fallen into, shaking his head in bewilderment. “I’m afraid I don’t really understand your question, luv,” he admitted softly, apologetically.

Buffy gave herself a mental shake, frustrated with her own thoughtlessness, as the truth of the matter finally occurred to her.

Of course he’s not going to feel the bond, stupid! You bonded with future Spike, not this Spike.

Buffy forced a smile to her lips as she replied, “I just wanted to make sure I’m me, you know? That I didn’t come back all wonky or something.”

Spike smiled slightly. “No, pet. No wonkiness here. Just Buffy.”

Buffy smirked. “Good. A non-wonky Buffy is a good Buffy.” She raised her hand to graze his cheek and smiled when he leaned into her caress. “Spike?”

“Yeah, Luv?”

“Will you spend the night here with me?” Buffy asked, holding her breath for his answer.

Spike’s eyes widened. “Uh…sure, Slayer. If that’s what you want,” he replied, his voice once again taking on that hesitant, uncertain note – as if he could hardly believe that she had just asked him.

Buffy dropped her hand from his face. “Good,” she replied, grabbing his hand and getting him up from the couch. “Let’s go to sleep, Spike,” she suggested, leading him toward the stairs.

Spike stopped her, though, his free hand atop hers. “Where are we going, Buffy?”

Buffy looked at him and smiled. “To my room.”

The blood that was left in Spike’s face seemed to drain with a rush, leaving him even paler than usual. “Oh,” he answered weakly.

Buffy giggled. “Come on, Big Bad. Don’t tell me that you’re scared to be alone with me?”

“Oi, Slayer!” He grumbled, gripping her hand tightly and stalking past her, dragging her up the stairs to her room. “That is one thing I am not!”

Buffy laughed – the first real laugh she had in months…since she had lost him for the last time. She knew that she would have to tell him everything eventually – but not tonight. Tonight, she was not going to worry about any of it, anymore. There would be plenty of time for that in the morning – and in the days and months of this strange second chance she had been given.

But not tonight.

Tonight – she was going to focus on nothing but simply being held by the man she loved.

As the morning sun broke over the horizon, Buffy awoke slowly. She could just see the new rays of morning behind the tightly closed curtains, as she pondered her new found fortune.

She had the power to make everything right – as it should have been.

She could prevent Willow from going over the deep end with her magic, could prevent the deaths of Tara, Anya, and most importantly, Spike. She could change so many things for the better.

Better for whom? a nagging voice in the back of her head asked – opening the door to a host of confusing, troublesome ideas that slowly began to flood her mind.

If she prevented Tara from dying, then Willow would never be with Kennedy. Was that a bad thing? Willow had been happy with Tara. But then – she was also happy with Kennedy now. Did she really have the right to play with people’s lives and futures like that?

Why not? another voice whispered, beginning an argument in her head. Everyone else played with yours.

Buffy heard a small snore behind her. Turning on her side, she took in the sight of a slumbering vampire with a sense of wonder. A small giggle escaped her lips as his snoring got louder – shattering the wonder, perhaps, but not by any means her mood.

Who knew vampires snored? Was Spike the only vampire that had so many human qualities? It didn’t matter; he was *her* vampire. She didn’t really need to find out.

“Spike,” she whispered, trying to get him to wake up.

He only grumbled something she couldn’t understand, and turned over.

“Spike, wake up!”

When still he gave no response, Buffy laughed. Spike slept like the dead.

Well, he is dead, isn’t he?

I’ll make breakfast, Buffy decided, slowly getting out of bed, careful to not wake her vampire.

Blueberry pancakes. He liked those.

~~~~~

The light was blinding in his eyes. He could actually feel the heat of the light on his skin. He was burning from the inside, with no escape from his fate. It wasn’t fair. He had just found love with Buffy, only to have it ripped away so soon.

“Buffy,” he called softly.

He barely heard her call his name before the light splintered out of his body in all directions through the amulet. He opened his eyes and saw the Hellmouth disappear in a flash of light. The uber-vampires were dusting, as the slayers started running for the exit.

He saw Buffy as she ran toward him. He could feel how tired and scared she was through their bond.

“I can feel it Buffy.”

“What?” she asked, slightly distracted as she looked around for a way to get him out of the light.

“My soul,” he looked at her with eyes full of wonderment. “It’s really there. Kind of stings.” Spike gazed out across the expanse of the Hellmouth as it began to crumble.

Buffy needed to leave. All of the other slayers, save Faith, were already gone.

“Go on then,” he urged her, wanting to get her out of this hell as quickly as possible, before she lost her life to it.

“No!” Buffy cried, shaking her head in denial. “You’ve done enough. You can still...”

“No!” he cut her off, his voice sharpened by his concern for her. “You’ve beat them back. It’s for me to do the clean up.” The Earth shook again, this time with more power.

He had to get her out of there!

“Buffy, come on!” Faith cried, running up the rest of the stairs that led out to the real world – the world Spike was saving with his very life.

Buffy looked back at Spike with fear in her eyes. She couldn’t let him go – not now. She had only just gotten him back!

“You’ve got to move, lamb,” Spike told her, a small smile gracing his lips. “I think it’s fair to say, school’s out for the bloody summer.”

As the Earth shook with even more force than before, Buffy felt the pain her mate was in. She had to get him to come with her. “Spike!” she cried out, moving toward her mate.

“I mean it!” he cried, bringing his hands up in front of him. “I’ve got to do this.” He closed his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Buffy – knowing that if he did, he might not have the strength to do this – and he *had* to do this. If he didn’t, Buffy would never survive. He *had* to be strong – for her.

All of this was for her. Nothing else mattered.

Buffy felt helpless. The man she loved was dying. He was going to save the world – but would there -- *could* there – be a world for her without Spike?

He was in so much pain by now.

The pain she felt – the small amount she experienced with him through the bond – was almost too much for her to bear. He was burning up from the inside. There was no way that she could help him.

That thought alone made her want to cry, to scream with just how *wrong* it all was! He couldn’t die! He couldn’t leave her alone!

Buffy looked at Spike’s hand in front of her. As her hand touched his, she had a feeling that it would be the last time she would be able to hold him, to touch his skin with her own. As she intertwined their fingers, she watched Spike watch their hands together. Suddenly, their hands burst into flames and their bond burst open.

He could feel everything – how much she loved him, how much she needed him, how much she didn’t want him to do this.

He also felt how proud she was of him, and how much this sacrifice would mean to her in the future.

God, he didn’t want to do this.

He wanted to be with her, to love her forever. Spike watched as their hands burst into flames. The pain was there, ever present, but with it a sense of peace. He and Buffy would finally have the peace they had fought so hard to gain – but he would not be with her to enjoy it.

His Buffy was in pain.

The smell of her flesh burning almost made him push her away – but then he saw the look on her face. She was smiling at him, her beautiful green eyes looking at him with love and devotion. She was going to burn up right along with him if he didn’t get her out of here.

She knew what he was thinking.

Her grip on his hand tightened just as he was going to push her away. Her face suddenly became serious as he looked at her.

“I love you.” Buffy told him, her eyes wet with unshed tears for her dying mate.

Spike felt his chest tighten at her words.

*Figures my slayer would wait until I’m bloody well dying to finally say those words to me.*.

But he *did* believe her.

He could feel the truth of her words.

“No, you don’t,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “But thanks for saying it.”

The small quip wasn’t lost on Buffy. He could feel the mental punch to the nose she wanted to give him, but didn’t have the time.

The Earth shook again, with even more force. He felt their hands disconnect as Buffy was thrown from him.

“Now go!”

Buffy gave him one last, loving look before she left his sight forever. He could feel her sending her love to him as the light began to burn his flesh. “I want to see how it ends,” he whispered to himself, laughing as the flames overtook his flesh.

He might be dying, but he was dying for the woman he loved.

He was dying for Buffy.

That made everything worth it.


Spike woke with a start on sweat drenched sheets.

He was burning.

It was the only way to describe the pain that he felt coursing through his body. He was shaking, trying to calm his over-stretched nerves.

What in the bleeding hell was that?

He had never had a dream that was so vivid. Every emotion, every pain he felt in his dream, was still with him. It was almost like a memory. Still shaking, he brought a hand up to run it through his hair. Something stopped him. It was the hand that he had touched Buffy with in his dream. Inspecting it more closely, he saw burn marks between his fingers – the fingers that had laced with Buffy’s.

Something akin to panic bubbled up in his chest, accompanied by slightly hysterical laughter. It wasn’t possible. There was no way in hell that what happened in his dream was real – was there?

Buffy burst through the door, a panicked expression on her face. “What happened?” she asked, moving toward the bed. “Spike, what’s wrong?”

Spike looked at her with a closed expression. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Uncertainty flickered in Buffy’s eyes. “Tell you what?”

Spike flung the covers off his body, exposing his naked chest and jean-clad legs. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he arrested Buffy with an accusing expression. “Tell me why I have these burn marks on my hand, and why I am dreaming that I died?”

Buffy found it hard to speak with Spike’s gaze boring into her. “You – you died?” Buffy asked, stalling for time as she swallowed against the grief that tore through her heart afresh.

You knew you would have to tell him everything eventually.

Spike nodded. “Yeah, I died,” he said, looking at her with a peculiar expression. “But you already knew that, yeah?”

Buffy could only nod. “Um…I guess I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah, I guess you do.” Spike stood up, pausing for a moment, sniffing the air. “But right now, I smell pancakes. I’m a bit peckish; how about we suss this out over breakfast?”

“Okay,” Buffy agreed, moving toward the door. “I’ll just give you some time to get dressed, and then I’ll tell you everything.”

“Why do I have a feeling that I don’t really want to hear this?” Spike asked as he pulled his shirt up over his head.

Buffy just smiled and shut the door behind her.

~~~~

Buffy paced the floor of the kitchen, trying to think of what to say.

What *could* she say, really, to sum up the last two years?

Hey Spike, you loved me, I was a bitch, you still loved me, I was still a bitch, you tried to rape me, I told you I could never love you, you came back with a soul, you still loved me, I finally realized I loved you, we claimed each other, and then you died…

Oh God, a world of no!

Buffy shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs from her brain. She had to tell him the truth; he deserved that much. He deserved to know what she had done to him – what he had done to her. The mistakes of the past would not be repeated, if Buffy had anything to say about it.

Spike entered the kitchen with a sense of trepidation. He had not missed the look on Buffy’s face in her bedroom. She knew exactly what was going on. He also knew that she didn’t want to tell him what she knew. Did what she had to tell him have something to do with why she didn’t want him to leave the night before?

“Buffy,” Spike greeted her guardedly, taking a seat on one of the kitchen chairs. “I think we need to talk.”

Buffy nodded, taking the seat next to him. “We will, I promise. Just let me get Dawn off to school, and I will explain everything.”

“Alright, we’ll wait until Nibblet gets to school, but we *will* talk, Buffy. I need to know what the hell is going on,” Spike told her, digging a cigarette out of his duster pocket.

Buffy nodded, grateful for the small reprieve. “You can smoke in the basement.”

“Right.”

~~~~~~

Dawn came downstairs not five minutes later, grinning like a cat and ready for school. Buffy made sure she was fed, and five pancakes later, Dawn announced that she was going to see Spike after school.

“I don’t think that is such a good idea, Dawn,” Buffy told her, looking down at her food.

“Why?” Dawn asked, gulping down her glass of milk. “Did you and Spike have a fight or something?”

“No,” Buffy replied, finally looking up at her sister. “I just don’t think he’s going to want much company after I tell him a few things.”

Dawn pulled a face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Buffy told her, picking at her food. “He is just going to need some time alone to process some things. When he wants to be around us again, he will come. Don’t worry, Dawnie. Spike loves you more than anything.”

Dawn smiled, putting her glass down. “I can think of a few things Spike might love more than me.”

“Like what?”

“You,” Dawn answered, getting up to put her dishes away. “He loves *you* more than anything in the world. Any idiot can see that.”

“Bloody hell!” a voice from the basement cried. “Can’t a bloke keep any secrets in this miserable world?”

Dawn squeaked, turning an accusing glance at Buffy. “You didn’t tell me he was here!”

Buffy smiled, turning toward the sink. “You didn’t ask.”

Spike made himself present at that moment, honing in on Dawn. “You listen here, Bit. Don’t be going on telling people things that are none of their business. You understand me?” When Dawn said nothing, Spike became irritated. “Do you understand me, Dawn?”

Dawn looked shamefaced. “Yes, I understand, Spike. I’m sorry,” she told him, looking away from his face.

“Good,” Spike replied, opening his arms to her. “Now give me a hug before I bite you.”

Dawn laughed, throwing herself into the arms of her favorite vampire. “Like you would bite me.”

Spike pulled back, looking at her with a critical eye. “No, you’d barely even be enough for a snack. You know that, Bit? You’re no bigger than you good ole sis over there.”

“Hey!” Buffy exclaimed, a small smile playing across her lips as she watched the interaction between the vampire and her sister.

“What?” Spike asked, releasing Dawn and making his way over to Buffy. “You got a problem being my snack, Slayer?” Spike asked, stopping only inches from Buffy’s chest.

Buffy felt her skin flush and tingle at the nearness of her vampire. God, the things he did to her. “I don’t think I’d appreciate being anyone’s snack, Spike,” she replied, her voice carrying a breathy air that she had not quite intended.

Spike’s teasing smile turned into a leer. “Is that so?” he asked, his tongue curling behind his teeth. His hands moved to the counter, effectively caging her between the steely strength of his arms. “So, you don’t want to be my snack, Buffy? Are you sure about that?”

Dawn was momentarily forgotten by both of them. “Why don’t you find out?” Buffy breathed, her hands finding their way to his chest. “You want to know, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Spike whispered, his right hand finding its way to her hip. “I do want to find out, Buffy.”

“Um, hello?” Dawn huffed, stomping her foot. “Are you guys done flirting? I am still here, you know!”

Buffy laughed, bringing one of her hands to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Dawn,” she snorted, pushing Spike away to give herself more room. “What time is it?”

“7:35. Xander should be here soon,” Dawn huffed, feeling a tad left out.

Spike looked down at Buffy, winking. “I guess I should make myself scarce before the whelp gets here.”

“No!” Buffy and Dawn cried simultaneously, shocking the bleached vamp.

“Gah! Bossy bints, aren’t you?” Spike chuckled, laughing as Buffy’s slap connected with his chest.

When he saw her hand, Spike’s laughter stopped cold.

“What the hell is that?” Spike questioned, grabbing her hand in his. As he inspected more closely, he saw identical burn marks on her hand to the ones on his own – and on the same hand that he had held in his dream. Anger bubbled up inside him. “What are you hiding from me, Buffy?” he demanded, his voice taking on a nearly deadly edge.

When she said nothing, his anger increased. His grip on her hand tightened to the point of pain. “Tell me, Buffy. What in the bleeding hell is going on?”

“That’s what I would like to know,” a voice called from the kitchen door.

Buffy cursed inside.

Xander

Shit, shit, shit! Buffy’s mind screamed.

Xander was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes glued on Spike. Buffy knew what that look meant. No matter how much she wished that this Xander was the one she knew and loved, she had to remember – this Xander had not had to endure all the obstacles that her Xander had endured.

This Xander had not grown up like her Xander had.

“Xander,” Buffy acknowledged casually, nodding her head in his direction. “So, you’re here to take Dawn to school?”

Xander nodded, his eyes never leaving Spike. “What’s going on, Buffy? Why is Fangless being so hard on you?”

“Xander,” Buffy began, only to be cut off by a very pissed off Spike.

“You know what, Whelp?” Spike snarled, pushing away from Buffy and making his way across the room toward Xander. “I am bloody sick of this.”

Xander watched with wide eyes as Spike advanced on him. He sent a pleading look toward Dawn and Buffy before turning his wide gaze back to Spike. “Sick of what, Spike? I just hope you’re not going to start your little obsession thing now that she’s around again.”

An inhuman growl erupted from Spike’s chest, and before anyone knew what he was about, Xander was pinned against the doorframe with Spike’s forearm across his throat.

Buffy could feel the anger radiating off Spike, but refused to interfere.

This was between Xander and Spike.

“You didn’t tell me! You brought her back, and you didn’t tell me!” Spike said, giving the boy in his grasp a look of anguished fury.

Xander smirked, “Well, now you know.”

Spike’s arm pressed down more firmly across Xander’s throat, leaving very little room for oxygen.

Dawn started forward, but Buffy held her back with a pointed look and a small shake of her head.

Spike’s eyes were ice cold. “I worked beside you all summer.”

For once in his life, Xander seemed at a loss for words. “We just didn’t tell you.” He paused again, apparently seeing the vampire with new eyes. “It was just – we just – we didn’t. Okay?”

Spike’s face was still stone cold. “Listen, I figured it out,” he replied softly, giving Xander one more good shove into the wall before letting him go. “Maybe you haven’t, but I have.”

Spike took a deep breath, knowing that his words were about to betray how he felt about Buffy. He just hoped that she would forgive him for those feelings. “Willow knew there was a chance that she could come back wrong! So wrong that you’d have to…“

Buffy’s heart broke hearing the emotion in his words. She wanted to go to him and hold him, to remind him that she was there now – but she knew that he had to do this for himself.

Xander watched the vampire before him struggle to contain his emotions. Xander had always known that Spike had been obsessed with Buffy, but could he really love her? Was he capable of love?

Spike steeled himself against his emotions. He could not let Xander see him vulnerable. “So wrong that she would have to get rid of what came back – but I wouldn’t let her. Any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn’t let her. And that’s why she shut me out.”

“What are you talking about?” Xander asked defensively, trying to deny Spike’s words. “Willow wouldn’t do that.”

A sarcastic smile graced Spike’s chiseled face. “Oh, really?”

“Look, you’re just covering,” Xander replied, his own face taking on a sardonically knowing smile. “Don’t tell me you’re not happy.” Xander watched Spike’s eyes close, once again trying to control his emotions. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that seeing Buffy alive wasn’t the happiest moment of your entire existence.”

Spike tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. “You know I can’t.” he whispered, turning from Xander and walking toward back Buffy.

He looked into her eyes for a moment, sensing something – but uncertain as to what it could be. She gave him a small smile that he hesitantly returned, before turning back toward Xander and finishing softly, “But I can tell you this, Whelp. The thing about magic is – there are always consequences. Always!”

Spike watched with satisfaction as Xander’s face became suddenly pale and uncertain.

Serves the git right.

Turning back to Buffy, Spike’s eyes were filled with a sad sort of satisfaction. “I’m going to go smoke, yeah?” When Buffy nodded, Spike took her scarred hand in his. “We still need to talk about this,” he reminded her, carefully lacing his fingers through hers.

Buffy’s eyes shone with suppressed emotion, as she watched their hands together, remembering a time long past – and now, somehow, yet to come.

“I know.”

Spike smiled slightly with just a hint of relief in his eyes at her agreement. “Okay.” He bent down and kissed her cheek, letting her hand drop to her side. “You know where to find me,” he whispered, his cool breath momentarily fanning her cheek.

“Okay,” Buffy whispered, goose bumps trailing in the wake of his words.

Spike made his way over to Dawn, pausing in front of her. “Have a good day at school, Nibblet,” he told her, one hand grazing down through her hair. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Dawn laughed. “I won’t. One mindless automaton, coming up.”

Spike smiled. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to her brow.

As Spike walked down into the basement, Buffy decided to break the ice with her best friend. “Okay, Xander. Take Dawn to school, and I will meet you guys at the Magic Box later.”

Xander gave her a look. “Are you sure you want to be alone with...”

“If you want to keep your manhood, Xander Harris, I wouldn’t finish that sentence.” Buffy told him menacingly.

Xander seemed stunned and bewildered by her sudden defense of the blond vampire that, in his memory, had never been anything but an annoyance to her.

“Buffy, what the hell…”

“I’ll tell you everything at the Magic Box, okay? I need to talk to Spike privately, and then I will tell you all what is going on, okay?” When Xander frowned in confusion, Buffy felt a slight pity for her friend. “Xander, just trust me, okay? Have I ever let you guys down before?”

Xander took a deep breath, then shook his head and smiled in resignation. “No, Buffy,” he admitted.

Buffy smiled. “Then just trust me.” She turned to Dawn, giving her a hug before she left the kitchen. Just as Xander was leaving she stopped him again.

“Xander!”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice to Spike for me, okay? I really hate it when you two fight.”

“I’ll try. But if he hurts you, Buffy…”

“He won’t. Thank you.”

~~~


Spike paced the basement, his cigarette slowly burning between his lips. He hadn’t meant to go off on Xander like that, but the boy just didn’t know when to quit. Of course the git just had to go off about his obsession with Buffy.

“I’m not obsessed with the bloody bint,” he told himself, flicking his cigarette across the room.

He wasn’t obsessed.

He loved her.

He cared about her.

He loved her family.

To him, that wasn’t an obsession. It was just simply love. Besides Dru, Buffy was the only person that Spike had ever loved with his entire heart.

When Joyce had died, a piece of Spike’s heart had died with her. Then, when Buffy – went away – he had been sure that he could no longer survive without her in his life. The only reason that he had not walked into the first sunrise without her was Dawn.

Dawn needed him.

The poor girl definitely needed somebody, and no one really seemed to give her the time of day. They all seemed to be too caught up in their own bloody mourning to care that Dawn was grieving more than anyone else. First her mum had died, and then her sister not too long after that. Her ponce of a father hadn’t call until a month after Buffy had died, to tell Dawn how sorry he was about Joyce.

Dawn still needed him.

And he needed her.

The sound of the basement door opening drew Spike’s gaze to the top of the stairs. Buffy was making her way toward him, her eyes looking everywhere – anywhere – but at him.

“Buffy.”

“Spike,” she replied, stopping a few feet in front of him. “I guess we need to have that talk now.”

Spike stepped forward, taking her scarred hand in his. He stared down at their joined hands between them, as he whispered, “Yeah, I guess we do.”

Buffy exhaled a deep breath. “I haven’t been in this basement since...”

“Since when?” Spike asked, seeing her obvious distress. “Since you died?”

“No,” Buffy looked deep into his eyes. “I haven’t been in this basement since the night we claimed each other.”

Spike looked at her for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You have got to be kidding me, Slayer!”

Buffy watched him with sad eyes. “No, Spike, I’m not.”

Spike’s laughter suddenly vanished. A large lump formed in his throat that almost made it impossible for him to speak. “Buffy, I know that I’m a stupid man, but I think I would have remembered claiming you.”

“I know you would have,” Buffy replied, her grip tightening on his hand. “Do you remember your dream?”

Spike watched their hands. “Yes. I remember dying.”

“What else do you remember?” Buffy asked, stepping closer to her vampire. “Do you remember me telling you that I loved you?”

Spike shuddered, his chest expanding with emotion. “Yes.”

Buffy nodded, still looking at their hands. “Do you remember saying ‘No you don’t, but thanks for saying it.’?”

Spike used his free hand to lift Buffy’s chin with his finger. “How do you know about that?”

Buffy smiled. “Because it wasn’t just a dream – it happened.” She glanced back down to their hands, fighting back her own tears. “I was there.”

“That’s impossible!” Spike exploded, releasing her hands and moving away from her in confused frustration. “There is no way in hell that I died!”

“I thought you were already dead, Spike.”

Spike paused, giving Buffy a searing look. “Now is not the time to make vampire jokes, pet.”

“Sorry,” Buffy replied sheepishly.

“I don’t understand any of this, Buffy. It’s just not possible!”

Buffy couldn’t take it anymore. She snapped.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think this is hard on me too? Knowing everything that is going to happen to the people I love! Knowing that Tara and Anya and you are all going to…”

“What about Glenda and Demon girl? Don’t tell me that they are going to...”

Buffy sniffled against her tears, wiping a single escaped drop from her cheek. “Yes, Spike. They are all going to die.”

For a moment, all the air seemed to leave his dead lungs. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’m from the future. From 2003. I have lived all of this. For all the bad and good, they are my memories – and your future,” Buffy replied, taking a seat on the bottom stair. “You have no idea what it was like for me to be in LA one minute...”

“LA? Went to tall dark and forehead, I take it?” Spike sneered, reaching for another cigarette. “Didn’t take long after I died, did it? What did you do? Hop into his bed the day after I died?” Spike asked, lighting his cigarette.

Buffy stood up. “I am going to pretend you did not just say that, William.”

Spike whirled, facing her. “Don’t bloody call me that, Slayer.”

Buffy smirked, walking toward her angry vampire. “What’s wrong, Spikey? You got a problem with your name?”

Spike consumed half of his cigarette in a single drag, as he fought for control of his rising anger. “Don’t start this, Slayer.”

“I didn’t start anything,” she informed him, stopping a hair’s breadth away from him. “You were the one that accused me of moving on with Angel. So yeah, that pissed me off,” she told him, poking her finger into his chest. “I know this is hard for you to believe, but how did you get those burns on your fingers? How did I get mine?”

Spike looked around wildly, trying to block out his Slayer’s words. “I don’t know, pet. Maybe you set me on fire when I was sleeping.”

Buffy smirked. “If I was going to do that, I would have done it years ago when I hated you.”

Spike smiled slightly. “You still hate me, pet.”

“No, I don’t,” Buffy breathed, looking deep into his eyes. “I can prove it.”

Spike’s interest was piqued. “How would you prove it, Slayer?”

Buffy smiled, craning her head to the side. “See the scar on my neck? You put it there when you claimed me.”

Spike growled, looking at her scar. “Something else could have bit you. How am I supposed to believe that it was me?”

Buffy watched Spike fight his inner demon. “I think you already know that it was you. I can hear your demon purring.” Buffy wrapped her arms around his torso. “You know I am telling the truth. I know you do.”

Spike looked down at her. “I guess living on a Hellmouth takes its toll on people, luv. I can’t say that what you are saying is impossible.”

“I know a way that I could prove it to you,” Buffy said, pulling a knife out of her back pocket.

“What are you going to do with that, pet?” Spike asked, watching her with wary eyes.

Buffy cut her right wrist, balling up her hand to start the flow of blood. “I want you to drink from me.”

“No!” Spike replied, shaking his head, his eyes wide with horror and dismay. “I won’t drink from you, Buffy.”

Buffy watched her blood trickle down her arm. “I know you don’t want to, but it is the only way that I know will work.” Her gaze drifted up to Spike. “It worked before, when you were being controlled by The First. Once you drank some of my blood, you remembered everything.”

“The First? As in The First Evil?” Spike asked, truly shocked.

“Yep. One and the same,” Buffy replied without hesitation, as she brought her wrist up to his mouth. “Just drink, Spike. Everything will make more sense when you do.” When he didn’t budge, she tried again. “Just trust me, Spike. Please…” Buffy whispered, tears forming in her beautiful green eyes.

Spike eyes were glued to her wrist. Slowly, gently, he lowered his mouth slightly to lap at her blood. As the rich taste hit his tongue, he groaned, latching onto her wrist. Two, three, four deep pulls went down his throat before the white light flashed.

He was thrown away from Buffy, his mind racing with thoughts and flashes of himself and Buffy together, in another life – a life that was yet to be. He gasped for air, his body wracked with pain. He could hear Buffy calling for him in the distance.

Suddenly everything went black.

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


He could feel her against him, talking to him softly, trying to wake him. His eyes opened -- and he saw the most beautiful thing in his world.

“Buffy?”

His angel smiled, tears streaming down her face. “Yeah, Spike, it’s me.”

Spike smiled, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. “Why are you crying?” He looked around for a moment before trying to get up off the cold concrete floor. “Where the hell are we?”

Buffy helped him get up. “What do you mean? What’s the last thing you remember?” Buffy asked, concern etched on her face.

“I thought Sunnydale was supposed to be gone when the Hellmouth closed.” Spike looked around the room before looking back to Buffy in bewilderment. “What happened? I closed it. I know I did.”

Buffy’s heart skipped a beat. It was almost too good to be true. “Spike?”

“Yeah, luv?” Spike asked, bringing her into his arms.

“What year is it?”

Spike’s brow furrowed, looking at her questioningly. “2003.”

“Oh my God!”