She descended the basement stairs, the floorboards creaking softly under her light weight. Spike sensed her approaching presence before he heard her, and he stood up, facing the stairs from where she emerged. They looked at each other across the room for a moment, unmoving, until Spike finally broke the silence.

"Buffy . . . I was just admiring my little trinket. Hasn't done any soddin' tricks yet." She gave a wry smile in response, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"So, not feeling any mystical energy brewing?" She inquired, pausing at the base of the stairs as her gaze drifted to the amulet dangling from his hand.

"Nope, nothing mystical yet, luv. By now I was bloody half expecting it to light up, or tingle with unforeseen power . . . .or possibly let loose another show-tune obsessed pyromaniac demon. Little entertainment wouldn't kill us right about now," He joked, holding up his hand to study the mysterious amulet.

"Nope, just a whole lot of big and shiny."

Buffy nodded solemnly, a distant expression clouding her features as her smile faded. As she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, Spike cautiously placed the amulet on a nearby chair, instantly noticing the change in her mood. He turned to face her.

"What's on your mind, pet?"

Buffy bit more vigorously on her bottom lip, shifting uncomfortably.

"You mean apart from the whole apocalypse thing? Not much." She responded with a shrug, breezing casually past him to sit on the edge of his cot.

"Buffy . . . ."

She lowered her head, averting her eyes from his gaze, knowing full well he could read her like a book. Spike seemed to have some sort of keen intuition.

"You seemed pretty sure of a victory yesterday. There's something else, what is it? C'mon, spill," He prodded knowingly.

Buffy sighed and lifted her head reluctantly. He always knew. "I was just doing some thinking." Spike moved closer, settling himself on the cot next to her and bracing his arms on either side of him, looking expectantly at her as she began to speak..

"It's just, if everything goes to plan tomorrow, and if . . . .when, we win, everything . . . . . my life will be completely different."

Spike remained silent, listening intently.

"For the first time I feel like I have the power to control my future, my destiny, and for once I don't have to do it alone." She continued, "But things . . . everything will change forever. And now that the power is finally in my hands, the power to choose, I have no idea what I'm gonna do with it, where I want to go with my life, you know?" She looked down at her hands folded in her lap, rubbing her thumbs together anxiously.

Spike nodded. "Just take it one step at a time, pet. Apocalypse first, then think of the road less traveled. Or more traveled, depending on how you look at it." Buffy lifted her head.

"Spike," She paused, staring directly into his piercing blue eyes. "I want you to be careful, ok? That amulet . . . .we don't know its powers yet. It could be dangerous, or . . ."

"Or", Spike interjected, "It could be a worthless piece of junk some sod bought of Ebay." He smirked slyly at the thought. "You know, I wonder how much something like that would go for on Ebay," His face lit up with mock enthusiasm, the ever-present smirk deepening into a mischievous grin. "People pay a lot for gaudy accessories these days. Bet they’d be willing to pay a little extra for one with apocalyptic powers."

"See, there you go being all shirty again," Buffy teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

She was always grateful that he tried to make her laugh, even though his sense of humor could be a bit off color at times, not to mention poorly timed.

"Luv, if you’re gonna steal my words you could at least use 'em correctly. Give a little respect to a fellow, huh?" She chuckled at that, rolling her eyes.

But her expression again grew serious. She paused, then reached for his hand and grasped it cautiously, raising her head to meet his cerulean gaze before speaking.

"Spike . . . ." Spike gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze and offered a lopsided smile.

"Don't worry about me, pet. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, it's just . . . "

Buffy swallowed against the stubborn lump in her throat. He used his free hand to brush a lock of golden hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear gently as though she were a delicate porcelain doll that was bound to shatter. Then he spoke:

"You get out safe tomorrow, that's all that matters."

She looked into his face, almost startled by his intense expression, his eyes exuding nothing but blind devotion and admiration for her. She had often felt uncomfortable when he gazed at her with such adoration and love, like she was an open book and all he had to do was glance at her to read her every thought.

He believed in her, and she in him.

But Buffy often wondered if she deserved to be put on such a pedestal by anyone. She was by no means perfect, or anywhere near perfect for that matter. She made many mistakes, some small and some monumental, and some she would regret every single day for the rest of her life.

'It’s true,' she thought bitterly, 'I really am cookie dough. A big pile of mushy uncooked goo.'

She really had no clue what she would become, or how she would become it.

But Spike always stood by her, flanked her through thick and thin. She was truly touched by the sacrifices he had made for her. He seemed like a part of her now, in her heart, in the back of her mind, always by her side.

Overcome by the revelations saturating her mind, a single burning tear ran a trail down Buffy's cheek. She only realized she was crying when she saw Spike's face glaze over with concern. Buffy, feeling sheepish for her unexpected display of emotion, stood and strided across the room, stopping in front of the black punching bag as she tried to regain her composure. She hugged her arms around her middle, finally calming herself when her eyes fell upon Spike’s wonderfully artistic drawing of Angel from the other night, still attached to the bag. She couldn't help but snicker softly in spite of herself, though she didn’t want Spike to witness her amusement as she didn’t want to promote the whole jealously thing.

'Though it actually does have a slight resemblance,' Buffy thought wryly as she eyed the drawing.

When she finally turned to face Spike, he was standing in front of the cot, eyebrow arched, head tilted slightly with curiosity. Buffy forced her lips into a small smile to assure him she was fine, but knew it was pointless as he could always see through her bravados. He knew her better than herself, and that was fact. She reflected on this realization, fondly recalling the beautiful speech he had given her just two nights ago. He had seen the best and worst of her; he knew who she really was, yet somehow wasn't scared away by it all.

Buffy raised her head to meet his gaze and began walking purposefully across the room towards where he remained frozen in front of his cot. She stopped directly in front of him, inches from his face as she looked up into sparkling eyes.

"What is it, Buffy?" He inquired.

"The other night . . ." She began softly, "It really did mean a lot to me. I wasn't just saying that." She paused and sucked in a breath, noticing the uncertainty and confusion in his eyes "You . . . understand me. And I don't really know how, but it's . . . it's like you can see inside me. See my soul," She finished and looked at him cautiously, waiting for a response.

"Winning a lost soul from some scaly, foul smelling Linda Blair type demon a few months back doesn't exactly qualify me as an expert on the subject," He teased, "You need any bloody awfuly poetry lessons or crypt decorating tips, I'm your go-to-vamp. But the soul thing . . . Bugger . . ." He trailed off as her glare clearly indicated now wasn’t the time for joke telling.

"Spike, I'm serious. You were the only one I could turn to, the one who always had my back. You gave me the strength," Buffy whispered, reaching for his hand as she desperately tried to make him understand how much that meant to her.

He looked down at their joined hands questioningly, then back at her. She felt his long fingers tighten their hold on her hand, his thumb just barely moving over her knuckles in a slight caress, soft and cool on her heated skin.

'They seem to have a healing touch,' she thought. 'My God the things he could do with those hands' . . . .

Spike finally broke the silence, lightly teasing, "Bollocks," He said softly, smiling, "You hero types always have the strength. Just needed a little coaxing is all."

Buffy continued to stare blankly at him, her brain refusing to muster any fitting words.

"You know," Spike continued, misinterpreting her silence for indifference, "Little cold comfort from the cellar dweller goes a long way. Ought to recommend it to the whole lot."

Buffy sighed, instantly irritated by his words.

'Here he goes again, trying to skirt the whole issue.' She thought bitterly.

She yanked her hand from his in order to illustrate her frustration.

"Well, whatever you want to call it, it saved me, OK? Spike, God, don’t you get it? Don’t you understand?" She practically spit the words out, throwing up her hands in frustration. "You keep playing it off like it’s nothing, like it was all just some fluke! But what you don’t seem to want to admit is the fact that it meant something. It meant everything, Spike. It was real, and it-" She paused, her voice dropping a bit as she felt her resolve quickly fading, "It helped me find the way."

Her expression softened and she let out a long breath along with the last of her anger. "Spike, you don’t have to keep skirting the issue. I just want you to know that I appreciate you, what you did. I mean, I felt so lost and- and alone. I was done . . . . . with everyone, everything. I was so sure of it . . . . .until you found me and gave me a purpose again. And as much as you like to deny it, the truth is that it means so much more to me than you could know."

Spike stared at her, speechless, his eyebrows knitted together slightly. Compelled by her heartfelt confession, he slowly leaned forward until his lips came into contact with her forehead, feather light so Buffy barely felt them brush across her skin. She instinctively closed her eyes as the tension drained from her body, sighing when the brief contact ended, wanting it to linger.

Spike took a small step back to distance himself, waiting for her to make the next move.

He didn't have to wait long.

---

A/N - Ready for some Spuffy lovin? :)

---

Buffy tiled her head upwards and caught his lips with her own. It was a gentle kiss, their lips lightly brushing each others, but it was enough to send tingles coursing throughout her body. Neither made a move to deepen the kiss, their lips merely lingering until Buffy finally pulled away, looking up at him with shining green eyes.

'God she's so beautiful,' he thought with amazement as his eyes met hers.

Buffy’s voice pulled him from his reverie, soft as a whisper, "You really are a champion. I’ve known that for quite some time now," She said sincerely.

He quickly averted his gaze. "Hey, you know what they say, luv, behind every great man . . . .Well in my case not really great, or even man, really, but . . . ."

"Shhh" Buffy interrupted, "Spike, stop downplaying yourself. I didn’t do this. You did it, all on your own."

Spike still avoided her eyes, not feeling worthy of all this praise.

"Spike," She continued softly, willing him to look at her and listen, "You went through so much, and you never gave up. When I look at you, I see a man. A good man, who only wants to become better. And you have, and I'm proud of you for that, and I believe in you. When I said that, I meant it. I still mean it."

Spike smiled at her almost sheepishly, never knowing how to take a compliment when he was offered one.

"Buffy, pet, what I've done is nothing compared to you. All you've done . . . ."

She again silenced him, this time by placing a finger softly to his lips and shaking her head slightly. "Spike," She whispered, "For once, this doesn't have to be about me. It's about you. The champion."

Spike looked at her incredulously, letting her words wash over him like a prayer. Suddenly, the small distance between them felt like miles, and he couldn't hold back anymore. Taking a tentative step forward, he cupped his hand on her cheek and brought her lips to his for a passionate, searing kiss.

Buffy immediately responded, electricity coursing through her body as Spike weaved his fingers through her hair, his full, soft lips dancing across hers. She reveled in the feeling of being in his arms again, marveling at how well they fit together. She felt safe in his strong arms, felt at home.

She breathed in his rugged scent. That endearing, intoxicating blend of smoke, leather, and spice that was Spike.

When Spike's tongue traced her bottom lip, she let out a low moan, granting him entrance as their tongues caressed, explored. Buffy's body immediately turned to jello, forcing Spike to tighten his arms around her to keep her from collapsing. The kiss went on and on, a dizzying whirlpool of ecstasy neither wanting to lose contact as they both surrendered to their emotions.

Spike broke away for a moment as Buffy panted, leaning her forehead against his.

"Buffy" Spike whispered huskily. But before he could say another word, Buffy's lips silenced him with another kiss, this one intense as their feelings began to consume them. She caressed the back of his neck, ran her fingers through his hair as his arms tightened around her waist. Their mouths moved against each other desperately, tongues dancing. They clung to each other, hands roaming, smashing their bodies together so they could be close as possible.

Suddenly there was no apocalypse, no uber vamps, no first evil. It was just the two of them and their passion for each other.

Spike reveled in the way her warm mouth danced with his, just as he remembered it. Only this time he felt her put her whole self into it, melting into it as her lips melded with his, and he responded with the same fervor.

'God, 'she thought, feeling his soft, strong lips work over hers masterfully.' I really did miss this.'

The man could kiss, and even back then he had always tried to kiss her with understated tenderness, but she hadn’t wanted it at the time. But now it was the only thing she could think of, being held by this beautiful hunk of a man who was willing to go to the ends of the earth and back for her. And that incredible mouth . . . .God, the things he used to do with that mouth. . . . . One kiss, one nip of her skin could give her such powerful pleasure that never ceased to shock her with its intensity. It always amazed her how he could turn her into putty in his hands.

Buffy let another small sound of pleasure escape her throat as Spike continued kissing with all the passion and desire they had been forced to keep bottled up for the past few months. Finally she pulled away and he looked at her with questioning eyes while marveling at her beauty, her swollen red lips, her green eyes gazing into his. She silently reached for his hand and led him to his cot against the basement wall where they sat side by side. Buffy looked down at their joined hands, and then back at him.

"We're gonna win this," She said, determined, "You gave me the strength."

She hesitated for another minute, desperately hoping her next action would be reciprocated, would be felt by him, wanted by him. She dropped his hand and reached for her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it onto the cold basement floor. She paused again to look at him with uncertainty, knowing full well she may be asking for too much.

She sat there quietly, her lacy black bra exposed, the one that Spike used to love so much. He would give her that naughty look and smirk mischievously at her, tilting his head devilishly as his gaze would run over her entire body, taking her in. He would say, "Mighty becoming lingerie, pet," And then as he reached around her to unfasten its hooks expertly and bite hungrily at her neck, he would whisper in her ear, "But we both know you'll be coming much more without it . . . "

She had always hated his cocky attitude and wanted to smack him for it, which she often did. Yet she was attracted to him in spite of herself. As much as she hated to admit it, the whole "bad boy" thing turned her on, excited her.

She knew that even without a soul he cared for her, and she could feel herself falling for him, though she vehemently denied it to everyone, including herself. But that was a horrible time in her life, a time when she felt so lost, a time she so desperately wanted to erase from her memory. Spike was the only one who could make her feel, who could spark something that resembled emotion inside of her. Yet she had taken out her all of her anguish on him. She hated herself, felt like she didn't deserve love, hated him for loving her, hated herself for letting him in. She broke it off with him then, knowing she couldn't keep using him, and that he didn’t deserved to be treated like a monster. Her feelings for him had started to become strong, and it terrified her. As she had told Tara, he was everything she was supposed to hate, supposed to be against.

The thought that she could be in love with a soulless creature made her feel like she was becoming a monster herself. She didn't want to admit love, accept love, feeling unworthy to give it, to receive. Her life didn't make sense. She hated living, especially after being pulled out of a place of happiness, a place of peace and rest. She was disgusted with herself and with her actions, with how she consistently gave in to temptation. Nothing around her seemed real, or seemed anything but dead, just like she was inside. Numb, hollow, empty of any and all emotion. Her life, in a nutshell, had royally sucked.

That period of her life was like a black hole, a time of darkness where her overwhelming feelings of despair consumed her, sucking in those around her, reaching its pinnacle when Spike tried to . . . .

'NO! 'Buffy thought angrily, forcing those nagging thoughts from the scope of her consciousness. She refused to dwell in the past anymore. They had both done things to hurt each other, but had both changed for the better. They sacrificed for each other, saved each other, and she had come to a place of forgiveness now, both for him and for herself.

Buffy remembered Spike's words from over a year ago, the words he spoke right after she had been brought back to life.

' Every night I save you.'

Buffy knew that without a doubt. He did save her, and though he may not be aware of it, he saved her from herself, just as she saved him from the First.

They had come to trust and rely on each other fully. Spike always had her back, and she always defended him, wanting him by her side. She knew with gut certainty that he understood her better than anyone ever had, or ever would. She could be herself around him, as he had seen her at her best and her worst and still loved her nonetheless.

He had gotten a soul for her.

The magnitude of this again hit Buffy like a ton of bricks, and her heart swelled in gratitude. He had sacrificed everything to be a better man, to be what she needed. Tonight she wanted to show him how much he had given her and how much his sacrifices were appreciated and cherished.

She was slightly startled when her thoughts were interrupted by that low, sexy voice.

"Penny for your thoughts, luv?"

Buffy turned her head back to him before silently reaching to unhook her bra, exposing her breasts fully and praying he would not reject her, not tonight.

Spike's gaze briefly fell to her chest as his eyes widened slightly, pondering, and he quickly looked back at her face, unsure and hesitant.

"Buffy, you're sure you want to do this, after . . . ." He trailed off, alluding to the very thing she had just forced herself to forget.

"Yes" She interrupted without hesitating, not daring to, "For the first time I'm sure."

Then to reinforce her words she leaned in for another passionate kiss, trying to express her innermost desires. They broke away, leaning their foreheads together for a moment before Buffy reached for his black t-shirt, letting her fingers graze his chiseled stomach and chest as she lifted it over his head. Then she bent down, trailing burning kisses across his bare chest, down his stomach, feeling those perfectly sculpted muscles tense under her touch, craving more. Spike closed his eyes and sighed a contentedly.

They helped each other undress slowly, not wanting to rush. When they finished, Spike ran his hand down her arm, caressing her soft skin in such a way it raised goose bumps as she shuddered in delight, wild with anticipation and longing. Buffy’s eyes fluttered shut as Spike pressed his cool, full lips to her bare shoulder softly, savoring her. A small sigh escaped her throat when he bent down to kiss her neck, nipping gently at her skin with his teeth, his tongue following, lightly teasing her heated skin. His mouth slowly worked its way down, finally stopping at her breasts. Buffy arched her back and moaned softly as Spike's tongue worked its magic, his touch arousing sensations she wasn’t even aware she could feel. Tongue, lips and teeth worked together to send Buffy into ecstasy as she dug her fingers into his back. He took one hardened nipple in his mouth, giving it a gentle bite while his eager hands explored her body, stroking, caressing, fondling her in the areas he was so familiar with, knowing every sensitive part where one slight touch left her tingling with desire.

His wandering hands traveled downwards, brushing past her navel, massaging her inner thigh until they finally came to rest in the hot wetness between her legs, ready and waiting for him to work his magic. His fingers danced around, expertly finding her swollen bundle of nerves, caressing and massaging it as Buffy writhed in his arms, gasping his name.

She bucked against him wildly as he varied his touch from light to hard, rough to gentle. She felt like she would lose her mind with need when he slid one long finger inside her waiting heat.

Spike loved pleasuring her, loved watching her face as she moaned his name. Her eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, mouth forming a silent "O". He couldn’t help but smirk a little, knowing what he could do to her, how he could drive her mad with desire. He continued to torment her with his hands, as she rocked her hips toward him, craving more.

Spike had always been a good partner in the physical sense. He knew just how to tease her, stimulate her, make her scream. She would even go so far as to say that he had been a considerate lover, often making her pleasure his priority when she would let him. He was right when he said he was the best she ever had; there was no comparison. No one else could do the things he did to her . . . . .But that was all it was. In the past, it was all about the pleasure. And the man could definitely deliver in that department.

But the pleasure had been purely physical. There were no emotions involved, and any emotion that threatened to reveal itself was pushed to the wayside, forced out of reality. So all that was left was impatient groping, making each other scream through the night, leaving it all behind the next day.

But tonight Buffy felt pleasure in every sense of the word: mind-blowing, orgasmic physical pleasure, along with the pleasure of feeling safe and secure, and loved. Now, all these underlying feelings surfaced in their actions, manifesting themselves in the way they responded to each other, touched each other, looked at each other, sending them both into an all encompassing pool of glorious ecstasy that awakened them mind, soul, and body.

"Spike . . . ." Buffy breathed, her eyes glazing over with pleasure while Spike continued his ministrations. She felt her entire body tense with her impending climax when Spike added another long finger inside of her, taking her over her first edge as she called out his name. He wrapped his arms around her as she came back down, surrounding her, enveloping her like a warm blanket despite the coolness of his skin.

'He warms me from the inside,' Buffy thought.

Then, while staring intently into each other's eyes, they slowly lowered themselves to the cot, Buffy's hands still on his back, Spike holding his arm around her, cradling her head with his hand as he lowered it to the pillow. They kissed once more, passionately, fervently, before Spike positioned himself on top of her. He laced his fingers through hers, pushing them gently to the mattress until they were pinned on either side of her head, his eyes never leaving hers.

He hesitated for a moment until Buffy nodded, giving Spike the reassurance he needed, and he quickly sheathed himself within her. Buffy cried out and threw her head back, and he instantly leaned in to ravage her exposed throat while he remained buried deep inside her, unmoving while he grasped for control.

Buffy felt him filling her completely, and she almost wept at how right it felt. Spike remained still for what felt like hours, awakening every nerve ending in her body to the slightest touch as he made her wait, his mouth resting at her throat. Her heightened senses and throbbing desire became increasingly unbearable until she finally couldn't take it anymore.

Spike, as though reading her mind, lifted his head from her neck to once again meet her gaze. Then, with all the love and passion he felt, he began to move, setting a slow, steady rhythm that drove Buffy wild. She felt pure bliss, a complete surrender to desire and emotion that gained intensity as Spike's thrusts became deeper, faster, more urgent, plunging in and out of her slick channel. Spike released her hands, freeing her to run them down his back and explore his body.

Buffy wrapped her legs around his narrow hips, tightening herself around him and causing him to moan, meeting him thrust for thrust. Spike rested his forehead against hers as their eyes remained locked, transfixed as they watched the pleasure they were giving each other.

At that moment there was no one else in the world but them. There was no today, no yesterday, no tomorrow. Just tonight, and two people connected deeply, with a long history and profound understanding and acceptance of each other. Two people that shared a highly complex, ever evolving relationship that had become something beautiful, something entirely real and precious to both of them.

This time it had nothing to do with having sex to fill a void, to try to connect, to attempt to feel something. This time it was real, each giving of themselves fully, channeling their strength to share with each other.

They remained caught in a loving gaze while they continued to make passionate love, moving swiftly together. Their hunger for each other reached its pinnacle as they both came to their edge.

"Buffy!!" Spike roared as he felt Buffy's inner muscles clamp around him like a vice, and he quickly followed her into bliss, emptying himself deep inside of her.

Spike went limp on top of her, burying his face in her neck as Buffy panted, her chest heaving underneath him. Both of them trying to recover as they basked in the afterglow of the pure ecstacy they had accomplished together.

"Oh God," Buffy gasped, "Spike . . . ."

"Buffy," He called her name, his voice muffled in her neck. She grabbed his platinum blond head that glistened in the pale glow of the moonlight, and used both of her hands to lift it from her neck. His eyes were shining, heavy with longing, brimming with love. She kissed him softly, his tongue searching her mouth, tasting her sweetness.

Spike rolled off of her so he was at her side, one arm around her shoulders, and she shifted so her head rested on his chest, cuddling up against him. She placed her arm across his stomach, and he rested his hand over hers, caressing her. They didn't speak, not wanting to break the silence and ruin the beauty of the moment.

Spike curved his arm so he could stroke her silky golden hair, and Buffy snuggled in closer to him. When she finally drifted off to sleep, he kissed the top of her head lightly and watched her, admiring, her hair a mass of waves cascading over her shoulders, her chest delicately rising and falling as she breathed.

He saw her smile in her sleep, and he almost thought he heard his heart start beating all over again. Her happiness was his happiness. Spike loved her with every ounce of his being, his humanity, his soul and he no longer expected anything from her in return. His love had transcended that to become something unconditional, very real and profound, something that was beyond even him.

He was truly happy knowing that she had a place in her heart for him; he had felt it tonight. He knew she cared about him, trusted him, believed in him. She had come to his defense many times, helped him become a better man, and he loved her all the more for it. She respected him now, for the man he had fought to become.

But whether or not she felt the same kind of love for him as he did for her, he did not know. After all, she was kissing the great poof just one night ago, and Spike knew deep down that Buffy would always love Angel to a certain degree, that some part of her would always want to run back to him. But tonight had provided Spike with a glimmer of hope. Maybe she did love him, maybe she could envision a future with them together, maybe. . . . . .

Buffy stirred slightly, murmuring softly and yanking Spike back into reality. He looked at the beautiful woman fast asleep in his arms, and realized that none of it mattered anymore. Even if his feelings weren’t reciprocated, above all else he wanted her to have the kind of life she deserved, one in which she could be truly happy, whether or not it involved him. Spike finally drifted off to sleep, thinking about what the future might hold, the inevitable battle, the possible outcomes. They held each other through the night in a serene, contented sleep.

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

Spike awoke to find Buffy already getting dressed, pulling her shirt on over her head, her hair mussed from their night of passion. She turned when she heard Spike stir, and saw that he was awake.

"Hey," She said softly, smiling brightly at him.

"Hey," He returned, pulling himself to a sitting position in bed, the sheets bunched down around his waist. She came over and sat next to him and he reached for her hand, cradling it in both his own.

"Spike," Buffy began, "The past 3 nights I've spent with you . . . .all of them meant something special . . . .I'm glad you're here with me, grateful that you're a part of my life." She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, "But where we go from here, I don't know . . .We . . . ."

"Let's not . . ." Spike interrupted, "We shouldn't . . . .I mean, what we have here, it is meaningful. And bloody wonderful. The past 3 nights you've shown me what it means to be fully happy. Fully human." He stopped to contemplate his next words, wanting to make them convey the myriad of emotions he was feeling, "You make me feel happy, alive . . . .But us, what we have . . . .we should just leave it for now, or until after the soddin' apocalypse. You know, after . . . ."

"Our fates are determined," Buffy finished for him.

Buffy understood, nodding in comprehension with a twinge of sadness as she thought of the possible outcomes of the battle. Spike looked upon her with the same forlorn yet determined expression. He did feel terrified, and overwhelmed. As he said before, he had never been close to anyone, had never felt connected to anyone like he did with her. He was grateful that she had opened up to him and let him in, allowing him a glimpse of the vulnerabilities her tough façade always tried to mask.

Spike had always been intuitive. He had a knack for knowing what people were feeling, but for the first time he had no idea what to think. He didn't know where Buffy wanted to take this, or if she was truly in love with him, and a part of him didn't want to know. He felt unworthy of love, unworthy of her, and the thought of being with her completely terrified him.

More than ever he felt like vulnerable William, the fool in love, scared and unsure, incomplete and torn. He still didn't really know exactly who he was, or where his soul might lead him. He needed to learn to understand and accept himself the way he did Buffy. But he didn't want to face all these emotions now. He couldn't. First, they'd deal with the rising evil, and Spike solemnly vowed to do whatever it took to win, to fight valiantly and prevail in order to give Buffy a life she deserved. No matter the cost to him, she would go on living, go on loving, even if it killed him.

'So one of us is living,' he thought.

Buffy felt like she was drowning in his cerulean depths of his eyes as he stared back at her, lost in thought, so intense, when he finally spoke.

"Well then, luv, I reckon today would be that proverbial big day,"

"Yeah, that would be the one," Buffy responded.

Spike paused, searching her eyes, "You ready, pet?"

She nodded, her confidence growing. "I am".

He smiled softly at her. "Well, let's go to work then. Let's go be heroes, get it done," He said. She looked at him imploringly, reluctant to leave their night behind. "You go ahead then. Gather up the troops. We've got a hell of a fight ahead of us," he encouraged. Buffy nodded, releasing his hand and standing. "I'll get dressed, meet you upstairs," Spike said.

Buffy reached down to touch his face and run her hands lightly over the scar on his eyebrow, his striking features, his perfectly sculpted cheekbones, like they were chiseled from a statue.

"I'll be waiting," She said softly, a smile lightly tugging at the corners of her mouth as she leaned in for a soft kiss.

After a moment she had to force herself to pull away and walk to the base of the stairs. But before she began ascending them, she hesitated and turned around, meeting Spike’s gaze as he watched her leave. Buffy saw that same intense look she had grown so familiar with, his eyes brimming with all the love and admiration he held for her, and it revived her, giving her that last boost of strength she needed. He gave her a quick nod of encouragement as she gazed into his face with one last longing glance before finally turning and walking up the stairs to do what she must.


The End

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A/N Well, there it is. I wanted to keep the story as close as possible to what I thought would have really happened that night between them. Of course I believe Buffy loved Spike, but I wanted to include some of Spike's doubts and thoughts in there as well. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! It's my first fanfic so feedback would be much appreciated - How'd I do?
~Jess :)

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