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Well, they’d won. She couldn’t believe it – they’d stopped the First, Siyamak, and closed all the hellmouths of the world. The world, who knew it was even possible? However, the more remarkable thing was that she was just a girl. That’s right, no more being the slayer for her or any of the girls really, except Vi. She’s the one that the chosen line now runs through. Even though the powers finally got something right they still had another shocker for the day, the girls got to keep their powers, or at least their strength, not the ‘spidey sense.’ Apparently the powers realized that they couldn’t just go back to the lives that they had before, not with everything that they now know exists. So now they had the power, but not the sacred duty. Sure they’d still help out when need be, but it was Vi’s job to keep the powers of darkness at bay. Of course, their victory had made it a lot easier for her.

Despite the change in her title, Buffy was still immortal and still very much planning to travel the world and find a cure for that. As she tossed a shirt into the suit case she caught sight of her hand. Her scars had completely been eradicated once the ritual was completed. It was almost as if being reunited with Spike, truly reunited with blood (‘cuz it’s always got to be blood, right?) completed something inside her and let her body heal the way that it was supposed to. Of, course she was sure that Spike was supposed to heal her heart as well, but he was on the other side of the country. He’d left. Again. Three days ago. That’s what inspired her to quit her job, travel the world, and simply disappear. Maybe she’d find peace elsewhere. But how could she ever find peace after that moment…







The battle was intense. The whole group, the core Scoobies, Angel, Spike, and twenty-five slayers that had flown in for the big show had burst into some old warehouse that was perched over the Hellmouth, much like the high school library. There were bringers, vampires (fortunately not the uber kind), plus a whole assortment of others to choose from. It looked like a war zone from the Initiative. It killed Buffy not to be able to help the others out, but she was busy being sprinkled with magical dust and told to stand in a circle very…very close to Spike.

She was admittedly nervous. After all the time she and Spike had slept together, they’d never crossed this line. His fangs had never entered any part of her. Sure, he may have slipped in to game face a time or two, but he was always in control. That was one of the things that always amazed her about Spike – his control. She’d never met a vampire who could rule over his demon more than Spike – not even Angel. Of course, she was also talking about her experiences with un-souled Spike, since most of their encounters were in that time. But that was the point; Spike had always had more restraint, regardless of the soul.

Being bitten was something that she’d only enjoyed once, that time with Angel, well before she passed out. Her organism had been so swift she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t done it their first night together. She didn’t love Angel even a fraction of what she felt for Spike, so how would she react to his bite? Certainly not that responsively in the middle of a battlefield – right?

Spike could smell how nervous she was and it hurt. After all this time, she still didn’t trust him. He knew she should have done this with Peaches. He knew that he had far better control than Angel ever had, so did Buffy. So why was she shaking? Could she possibly want to experience this…his bite? No, it couldn’t be, she was probably just unsure. He used to be able to read her so well, understand everything that she was thinking. He used to know that she loved him, just wouldn’t admit it. Over their time together, the last few weeks, he wondered where his conviction had gone. Once love’s bitch, always love’s bitch, but it was in the Hellmouth that he finally realized that she didn’t love him. If Buffy really loved him, she would have told him that night in the basement, or in the abandoned house, not right before he died. That was beyond cruel. Her ‘I love you’ was just tossed out there, like some really good pity sex…that was all it was…pity.

He handed Buffy the knife. She took it with her left hand. Her hand really was so scarred. His wasn’t. He figured it was because his body had to come back from a dusting, so there wouldn’t be any scarring. But then why her…maybe, just maybe she did love him…if he could just get past his own insecurities and find that inner strength he’d always had to fight for love. Years of being beaten down, combined with time spent apart had made him a bit gun shy, but by God, he was ready to fight for her again. If only she’d listen.

Buffy tilted her head at Willow’s instruction. The ritual was about to start, seeing as the earth was quaking.

Spike couldn’t believe that this was happening. He’d dreamt of having Buffy for so long. It had begun with his desire to have another slayer’s life-blood, but slowly changed. His demon and the parts of him that were still William wanted her…craved her. The demon wanted her blood, to know that it was for him alone - that luscious Slayer…Buffy blood, full of passion and love. His humanity wanted her words, to say that she loved him, needed him. But she’d never offered him either of those things.

But there she was, standing in an ancient pagan symbol offering him her neck, but it still was not for him. The blood she offered was in ritual, given up for the world, another sacrifice…never for him. Would he ever be enough for her? He bloody well would be as soon as this thing was over.

“Just relax, luv, I promise this won’t hurt.” Buffy gave him more access, gripping his forearms tightly while he moved in closer to her warm body.

He learned down to her neck, the side unmarked by his elders and Dracula. He wanted his mark to be in no way associated with their memories. He slowly licked up her pale throat with a smooth human tongue to relax her, something that she remembered. He moved on to suckled her skin, human teeth running slightly up the cords of her neck, remembering the taste and feel of her – like he’d ever forget. He’d take her memory to his dusty end.

Oh, God, was the only thing that Buffy could think. She’d could never forget this, just like she could trace the scars on her hand, she knew every single nuance of this man - the way if felt for him to stroke her back slightly with his hands as he coaxed her to tilt her head a bit more. He’d always loved her neck, whether it was a vamp thing or because she liked it so much, she never knew. But God did he know what he was doing. Focus on the ritual. She squeezed his arms tighter to make him hurry up. If he didn’t she’d end up embarrassing herself.

This is it, the only moment I’ve ever thought about. Spike felt the bones of his face shift and his fangs elongate. He ran his roughened tongue up and down her neck so she’d get used to the change and then swiftly penetrated her so as not to cause her excess pain. Then he began to take long draughts of her blood, like a starving man’s first meal.

I won’t last, I won’t last. Every part of her body became attuned with that of Spike’s. Almost as if they’d never been apart. She could always feel him and now it felt like his very essence was inside of her, making her whole and before she knew it, a tingling pressure was building up at the base of her stomach and she unconsciously ground her pelvis against Spike’s in a desperate need for release.

Well, that plans just gone to hell. He’d wanted to keep his cool and not be overly aroused by Buffy, so as not to scare her off. He should have known that being around her never allowed for that to happen. Great, now the chit’s rubbing up against some highly sensitive parts.

She just needed one last thing, she was so close. She didn’t think it was possible to get physically closer to him, other than the obvious, and that couldn’t happen, not with everyone surrounding them. She directed his hands to press against her mound, desperate for more contact and hearing him growl in response was just what she needed…and she came.

If he lived a million years, he’d never know how he did it. He somehow managed to focus on the ritual with Buffy there grinding against him, with the most delectable moans he’d ever heard spilling from her mouth. Then she slit his wrist and that bit of pain combined with the scent of her arousal sent him over the edge. He would have been embarrassed about his seemingly teenage crush-like control if it were not for the way that Buffy grasped at his arms and breathed out her pleasure against his face. He wasn’t even sure if he knew where he was anymore. All that he knew was Buffy, and then he was being hit on the back. The gang had come up around them and started to congratulate them on a job well done. He wanted to growl at them, his demon had placed its mark on what it saw as its mate and didn’t want to be interrupted; it was needed to finish the claiming.

Buffy saw the tension in Spike after the bite and desperately wanted to flee. If she’d not been wrapped up in her own ecstasy, she would have seen Spike’s love and pleasure, but the sudden appearance of her friends ruined that moment. Flushed with embarrassment, she’d barley noticed that the world was still there. After smiling momentarily, she walked off and left the cheering group behind.

“Buffy, luv, wait. We need to talk.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about Spike.”
“Yeah, we do. Can we go for a walk?”
“Keep up if you’re going to tag along.”

Outside in a nearby park…
“What do you want Spike?” Are you going to rub it in my face how the Slayer still gets off from vamps? Have you finally seen enough of my life so that you can really make a whole bunch of really hurtful comments? What…”
She’d been cut off by a kiss. It was slow and gentle despite the grip that he had on her arms and conveyed a great deal of what she was feeling.

Spike stopped and looked into her eyes seriously. In that moment, he’d realized a lot of things, first off, he’d missed kissing her, but more importantly – they’d stopped the ritual, he really was her true love. Even though he’d had the conviction before the bite to talk some sense into her, he now had the proof. But first things were first.

“I wanted to apologize to you. I know that I’ll never be able to make up to you, what I said back in L.A. I could tell you so many reasons for why I said it. I could say that I wanted to give you a bloody normal life, but then I’d be like the poof, and probably get you right pissed at me. I could even say that I wanted you out of my life so that I could finally have some peace. But no one would ever believe that there would ever be a time when I didn’t want you – my blood to stop craving you. I don’t have any excuses for what I did and said. None of it was the bloody truth. What was the truth was what I told you in that abandoned house before SunnyD was taken off the planet. You’re the one and a hell of a woman.”

"So all I can really say is that I’m sorry. There is no excuse for me. I was just being a git, insecure and so very poncey, thinking it might be the way it was before, before I got the soul. So, I’m sorry for not having faith in you and your love.”

"I was just so bloody scared – I reacted instead of thinking it out. I’m not asking you to forgive me, I’d never expect that…anyone to forgive my…treatment towards you. All I ask is for a sign that you don’t hate me. We’ve shared a lot of things over the years, pet, bitter enemies, shaky camaraderie, lovers, and tentative friendship, but I don’t think we’ve ever hated each other, right pet?”

Buffy stood dumbfounded for a minute. She never really expected an apology from Spike, not after all of these years, if ever. Even more than that, she didn’t think he’d admit fear as being the reason for his outburst…
“I don’t hate you Spike, I could never hate you. We’ve shared too much.”
“Then…um…do you think that maybe we could start over? I’m not trying anything. The best that we’ve ever been able to do is be friends…do you think we could try that?”
“No, Spike, I don’t think we can.”








That stupid statement had led her to her current predicament. She didn’t know why she’d done it. It just seemed like the logical thing to do. It was almost as if she was scared of having everything that she always wanted. She couldn’t very well play the put upon ex-slayer if she had her dreams come true. God I messed up.

Of course she justified herself with the fact that he left too. He’d been ready for her to accept the apology, which she so did, if…maybe not in so many words. Maybe she ought to take a communications class? Anyway, he still left.

Maybe they just weren’t meant to be together, two people who were that stubborn? Never could work. God, she couldn’t believe he left.

So now it was her turn to leave. She was done packing. All that was left to do was to see Dawn. Dawn knew of her sister’s traveling plans and was going to get the keys to the house in order to sell, see her sister off, and then Buffy would be free of these memories as well.




*Ding dong* Finally. I thought I was the only one to inherit the late gene. Buffy got up to answer the door, making sure that she could leave as quickly as possible, once she’d said the appropriate goodbyes to Dawn. Of course, Buffy running away was nothing new.
“Dawn, I thought you’d never get here….I….Oh, God….”
“Hello Cutie.”

And they lived happily ever after. The End.




Thank you so much everyone for your support. This was my first fic and all of your responses really helped get me through it. I couldn’t have done it without you. Hope to hear from you again….sequel?  Inara





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