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Author's Chapter Notes:
They finally get close, really, really close!!!
A dazzling sunbeam obscured Buffy’s vision as her lids fluttered open. Before she could indulge in her usual morning stretch, her brain processed she was awakening to a light both blinding and lethal. Leaping from her bed, Buffy nearly ripped the curtains from their rod as she yanked them together to block the sun’s rays.

Still breathless from her sudden exertion, Buffy’s thoughts came crashing together, banishing any remaining vestiges of slumber. “Last night…Spike…my bed….sunlight!” Turning slowly from the now covered window, relief and disappointment mingled when she found no sign of Spike, combusted or otherwise, amidst the seriously rumpled bed linens. Taking her first complete breath of the morning, Buffy’s eyes fell on a small bundle on the floor, a piece of folded paper perched on top.

Buffy sat down on the edge of her bed and picked up the note, bringing it close to inspect the elaborate script. “Wow! Who knew Spike’s talents extended to penmanship,” Buffy thought.

“Dear Buffy,” the note began, “There is only one thing I fear now. That fear induced me to leave you alone to consider our future in the harsh light of day. If the dream I experienced last night is to continue, come to the library this afternoon.” The note was signed with a fancy “S,” followed by a postscript.

“P.S.” it continued. “If the cruel dawn reveals no future for us, this will be my only goodbye. I’ll leave Sunnydale at nightfall with no plans to return.”

Buffy stared at the note for a beat. “Geez, Spike,” she muttered. “Dramatic much?” Buffy reached for the bundle, only to have it fall open revealing her clothes from the night she’d nursed Spike in his crypt. No longer worried about admitting a little sunshine, Buffy opened the curtains and held her previously blood-soaked garments up to the light. “Yeah, like I’m gonna let you leave town without showing me how you removed the blood stains from my favorite pants!”

Buffy left the pile of clothes on the floor as she headed for the bathroom. Having slept in the nude, she needed only to warm the water before stepping into the shower. Grabbing the bath gel, Buffy used it to work up a frothy lather. Her hands slipped over her body, leaving trails of bubbles. Only then, as her own fingers retraced the path of Spike’s hands, did memories of the night before came flooding back.

Buffy caught her breath as merely thinking about their lovemaking caused a rush of delicious sensation between her legs. Heart pounding, she quickly rinsed the soap from her body and reached for the shampoo. “That was no dream,”she thought, “But if he needs reassurance, I think I could handle doing what we did last night all over again.”

****
It took several minutes before Spike recovered from his fits of laughter. Removing the pillow from his face, he drew an unneeded breath deep into his lifeless lungs and reached for Buffy, wrapping her in a tender embrace. His expression was serious now as he looked deep into her eyes and carefully smoothed an errant strand of hair away from her face. “You can’t possibly know what you do to me,” he said, touching her face with something akin to reverence. “But we’re about to cross a threshold from which there will be no turning back. If we do this, Buffy, it can’t be undone. I don’t know if we’ve ever been friends, or even if we could be friends. But this will change everything, at least it will for me. I know, I must sound like a regular girl’s blouse right now. But, if you know nothing else about me, you must understand part of me is a romantic--bugger that, a hopeless romantic--just as much as another part is a bloodthirsty demon. I’ve always been an ‘all or nothing’ sort of bloke, Buffy. You’re about to find out what all of me really means.”

Buffy looked back into the smoldering blue of Spike’s gaze. “I-I-I guess you’re not just talking about the impressively large size of… things,” she said glancing down to where his unseen erection pressed against her hip. Her crooked smile betrayed the nerves her quip was meant to cover.

“No, I’m not,” Spike snorted. “But thanks for noticing.” He buried his face in Buffy’s hair and filled his lungs with her scent. “Ah, hell,” he said, brushing his lips across her throat. “What’s the point of pretending I’m not already lost? Go ahead, Buffy, have your way with me. Even if I knew this was all there would ever be I still couldn’t help myself.”

Buffy reached up to tangle her fingers in Spike’s curls. “You’re lost?” she asked. “I think I am too. And I think I’d like to stay that way. I don’t remember a time when I felt so peaceful, so safe. I haven’t thought about slaying, Glory, Mom, Dawn being in danger—unless you count pinching her real hard for lurking around my door--any of it, for hours. I know it’s all still out there. None of it will go away on its own…” Buffy’s voice trailed off. “But being here with you is like a vacation,” she said, very quietly. “Does that mean I’m using you to escape?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “And I just realized I don’t care. We both talk too damn much. I, for one, am going to shut the hell up and see if I can’t give you the best holiday you’ve ever had. What do you say to that?”

Buffy grinned, “Bon voyage?”

Spike sealed his vow of silence was a kiss so full of passion, desire, and hope it literally took Buffy’s breath away. She came up gasping for air when one of them had the presence of mind to break away, only to plunge again into their mutual source of solace. Exploring each other’s lips, teeth and tongues like the protagonist and her paramour in a romance novel, they sank into the covers, bodies molded to one another, moaning into each other’s mouths. Though surrounded by her scent for hours, Spike had yet to develop any tolerance to the effects of Buffy’s fragrance and remained thoroughly drunk. Buffy burrowed into Spike like a welcome shelter from the storm of her life. In his arms, she for once let herself accept a respite from the wearying weight of responsibility for the fate of the world.

Reluctantly parting his lips from hers, Spike planted a row of kisses from Buffy’s jaw to collarbone. Sliding his hands down her spine, Spike reached under the supple globes of Buffy’s bottom and held her pelvis firmly against his. There was no mistaking the feel of Spike’s erection pressed against her belly. Insinuating her arm between their bodies, she wrapped her hand around his cool shaft just as Spike’s lips found her nipple. A mutual shudder passed through their bodies as each reacted to the new stimuli, the sensation extended by the echo of reflected pleasure.

Probing Buffy’s quim with his fingers, Spike found the opening drenched with her juices. Freeing his other hand, he cupped her breast, raising it to his lips and eagerly suckled the pebbled nipple. Buffy made a low sound like a mourning dove as she rubbed her thumb back and forth along the slit of Spike’s cock. Successive waves of pleasure washed over her, magnified by the blissful feedback between Spike’s talented fingers in her pussy and his lips and tongue at her nipple.

For a fleeting moment, Buffy thought she wouldn’t mind if they could stay just as they were for an eternity. But the delicious equilibrium broke when a drop of pre-cum leaked out under Buffy’s thumb. With her next stroke she swirled the slippery fluid over the head of Spike’s erection. He hissed, grinding into Buffy’s hand for a moment before releasing her nipple from his mouth with an audible smack. Grabbing her under her arms, he turned over onto his back, lifting Buffy’s body effortlessly over his. Reaching down to hold a hip bone in each hand, he positioned Buffy’s pelvis just inches above his rock hard erection.

“Don’t want to hurt you, kitten,” he said, looking up at her expectant expression. “So we’ll take it slow and you can set the pace, yeah?”

Even as she nodded her assent, it was impossible to avoid making comparisons. Resting on her elbows, but with most of her weight in Spike’s hands, Buffy could see she was in an ideal position to assert control. Spike’s conscious effort to put her in charge made a stark contrast with Riley’s grudging acceptance of the rare occasion when she managed to get on top. In all things, she realized, Spike treated her as an equal—in battle and in bed. Riley was equally consistent, unswervingly betraying the belief he bettered her in strength and strategy. Buffy could no longer deny, even to herself, that she’d been deferring to Riley’s decisions and pretending to need help rather than confronting his condescending misperceptions. In all interactions with Riley she lost more than her power: she also gave up much of the pleasure, both in slaying and in sex.

Deciding in that moment to fully claim this opportunity, Buffy favored Spike with a dazzling smile. “Yes,” she said, realizing for once she needn’t worry about hurting her lover--his vampire powers made Spike a near match for her in strength and endurance. She’d always had to hold back with Riley or risk injuring him, despite the fact he was large enough to leave her feeling smothered by his bulk. Spike’s body, on the other hand, while powerful and rippling with muscle, was lithe and compact.

Once more the comparisons came unbidden to Buffy’s mind. Angel, whose massive body dwarfed hers, had treated her like a china doll the one time they’d made love. But Spike never failed to test her physical limits--whether fighting or fucking. Far from coddling her, Spike considered Buffy a worthy adversary or co-combatant.

Spike returned Buffy’s smile, “Ah, that’s a lovely sight,” he said. “Penny for you thoughts, luv?” he asked, his voice a tease.

“No,” she answered. “I’m more about the action right now. You just stay still and I’ll show you.”

Spike raised his eyebrows, but not wishing to interrupt Buffy’s train of thought, remained absolutely still. She reached down between their bodies and found his impressive erection with her hand. Squeezing it gently, she expressed another drop of pre-cum. Once again, she used her thumb to spread it slowly over the head, but this time her gazed was locked with his. Spike’s eyes widened and his mouth opened, while he remained silent and motionless. But when Buffy dragged the lubricated tip of his cock between her legs, he could contain himself no longer. His eyes closed and his head fell back into the pillow as he uttered a string of strangled curses.

Buffy stopped the movement of her hand and Spike’s eyes shot open, questioning.

“I want you to watch me,” she said.

Spike whimpered before he spoke. “I’d love to, kitten,” he said, his voice rough with lust, “but watching another second of your face while you’re doing what you’re doing and I‘ll cum. And, baby, I want so much to be inside you when I do.”

“Oh, okay,” Buffy sighed, talking as if to herself, “maybe next time.” With no further notice, she slid halfway down Spike’s shaft. Then, pulling back just enough to let her abundant juices ease his entry, she fully impaled herself.

The sheer intensity of the sensation caught them both by surprise. Never had she felt so full, so complete. When she began to move again, it was without any coherence or premeditation. Lost in passion, her body simply took over, hips rising and falling without effort, or volition. It was several seconds before she realized Spike was speaking to her.

“Buffy, baby, sweetling, darling, please,” he begged her. Buffy finally stilled long enough to hear him. “Can I move now?” he asked, voice choked with yearning.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she answered, laughing and covering his face with kisses. “Yes, you can move now.”

“Oh, thank God,” Spike moaned, and then holding Buffy’s hips steady in his hands, he began to pump into her.

Buffy floated, hovered, just above her lover. She could feel just three points of contact; her elbows--supporting her upper body with no apparent effort, her feet—just grazing the bed, and the exquisite confluence in between where her body and Spike’s merged and flowed together creating an intensity of sensation like nothing she’d ever experienced. The pleasure came in crashing waves. No sooner had one broken over her than the next was already towering above, ready to tumble down. Thoroughly undone by each cresting paroxysm, Buffy barely caught her breath before the next one hit.

Although her senses were nearly swamped by the swirling whirlpool of pleasure, Buffy knew there was still something else she wanted. Struggling to identify the elusive need, she whimpered between gasps. Spike took a while to notice Buffy’s distress, lost in his sea of bliss. But he finally slowed his thrusts, captured her lips with his for a moment, and murmured, “What’s wrong?”

Buffy opened her eyes to find what she’d been seeking. In the midnight depths of Spike’s eyes, Buffy saw all the love, desire, and respect she had always craved. Bright yellow flecks added the last, essential, ingredient; a vast reserve of primal passion matching her own—a fitting partner for the demon fused to her humanity, the thing that made her a Slayer.

Spike’s love was a deluge washing all thought from her mind. Buffy stopped trying to resist—relinquishing the last vestiges of control to plunge over an unseen edge into enveloping velvet darkness. Her orgasm erupted from deep within her core, sending jolts of pleasure through every cell in her body.

Tbc…..

A/N: Okay, they finally did it! But the ultimate resolution is still somewhere in the distance. We’ll get there soon, but I’m making no predictions how many chapters it’s going to take. I’ve been there, done that.

Please review. Finishing this chapter has been like pulling teeth. I just couldn’t figure out where to draw the curtain, so to speak. I’m not entirely thrilled with the stopping place, but I just couldn’t hang onto it any longer.





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