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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is it guys...apart from the epilogue of course. I have loved writing this story and I am truly grateful to all of you who have reviewed. This has been a great experience writing my first fic and I can't wait to start another one. Peace out.
Almost twenty four hours after he’d arrived back in the UK, Spike unlocked the door to his apartment.

After failing to contact Buffy at the apartment or on her cell, he’d ended up leaving her a brief voicemail message, before heading to the airport.

Keeping in regular contact with his mother during the flight, he’d been relieved to learn that his father’s doctors had confirmed that he’d suffered an angina attack. Consequently he’d instructed his pilot to detour to a private airport outside Oxford, where his driver had met him to take him straight to his parents’ home. The following morning, he’d gone to the hospital to visit his father.

On arrival at the cardiac unit, he’d found Rupert Giles sitting up in bed reading, the book in his hands one of his treasured collection of first editions.

“William, my boy, come in,” his father had beckoned to him when he’d spotted his son standing in the doorway of his private room.

“Dad...how are you?” Spike had inquired solemnly, as he’d entered the room.

“I’m fine, son. Just a spot of angina. Nothing to get worked up over.”

“Rupert,” Anne had admonished from the chair beside the bed. “Angina is still a serious problem. If you don’t start looking after yourself then next time it will be another heart attack.”

Spike’s father had thrown him a grin. “See what I have to put up with?”

But the rolling of his eyes had been contradicted by the look he gave Anne. It was obvious to all who knew them that his parents still loved each other as much as they had the day they’d gotten married. Spike could only hope that one day he and Buffy would be just as happy as his parents were.

Now as he walked into his living room, he was surprised to see a fire burning in the hearth and even more surprised to see Buffy curled up in one of the armchairs fast asleep, an empty mug on the table next to her.

His heart leapt at the sight of her and kneeling beside the chair, he gently shook her awake. When she opened her eyes and saw him, she smiled sleepily.

“Hi...”

“What are you doing here, luv?” he asked as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.

She sat up slowly. “I got your message.”

“I told you to stay in L.A.”

“Well you know me,” she said with a small smile. “Never was one to follow orders.”

“Yeah, don’t I know it,” Spike replied, her grin inspiring one of his own.

He helped her to her feet and they stood facing each other, both a little unsure of what to say next, considering everything that had happened the last time they were together.

“So how’s your father?” she asked, biting her lip.

“He’s okay. They thought it might be another heart attack, but the doctors confirmed it was angina. He’ll need to stay in hospital for a few days, but he’s not in any immediate danger.”

She gave a little sigh of relief. “That’s good news. I was really worried for you. I know what it’s like to be scared of losing someone you love.”

“So...that’s why you flew all the way here?” Spike asked, his grin faltering. “You were concerned about me?”

“Well, yes, I...of course.”

Her acknowledgment that the motive for her visit was not to declare her undying love quickly extinguished the flicker of hope that had ignited in his heart when he’d walked through the door and found her waiting for him.

Cursing himself for his folly, he turned away and walked over to the window. “In that case, you can put your mind at rest because I’m fine. My father’s fine. My driver will be happy to take you to the airport.”

“Spike?”

“Look, Buffy, the last couple of days have been really crazy and I’m tired and I really don’t want to do this right now. So if you don’t have anything else to say, then please just go.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

Spike froze, wondering if he was hallucinating as Buffy walked over to where he was standing and positioned herself between him and the window. He was staring at a point above her head so she lifted her hands and cupped his cheeks, pulling his head down to look in his eyes.

They gazed back at her, wide and wet.

“Spike, you’re crying…”

“I wondered if I’d ever hear you say that.” He lifted his hands up to try and stem the tears. “I’m such a bloody poof.”

Lifting his hands away, she entwined his fingers with hers. “No, you’re beautiful. I don’t deserve someone as amazing and wonderful as you.”

His hands tightened their grip at her words and the shadow of regret in her eyes.

“Don’t ever say that, luv. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. Buffy, you’re my sunshine.”

Tears ran down her cheeks as Buffy pulled him to her, her mouth covering his in a kiss that was both passionate and tender. They stood there in front of the window for several minutes just enjoying the simple intimacy of kissing, their tongues tangling, their breath mingling.

“Spike…” she whispered, her mouth less than an inch from his and her soft body pressed against his hard muscular form. “I want to make love to you.”

“Oh, kitten…” Taking her hand, Spike pulled her down onto the rug in front of the fire, his mouth finding hers again.

Taking the initiative, Buffy unbuttoned his shirt with nimble fingers, slipping the material from his shoulders. She pushed him back onto the rug, before undoing his belt and zipper and removing his trousers. As usual he was going commando.

“You’re wearing way too many clothes,” he told her, rolling them over again so that he was on top and lifting her shirt up to pull it over her head. Then he stripped her of her pants and the scraps of pink lace covering her firm breasts and delectable pussy.

Both naked, they stretched out side by side on the rug, not touching, just looking into each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” Spike whispered.

“I love you too,” Buffy whispered back.

Slowly he reached out his hand and cupping her cheek he brought her mouth to his and kissed her with a sweetness that went beyond the physical act of love and betrayed his emotions. His hand left her face and slid down, his fingers ghosting over her breast and then pinching her nipple making Buffy gasp into his mouth.

Her mouth left his to trace the shell of his ear, making him groan, pleasure shooting straight to his groin. She moved down to lick over the corded veins of his neck and then down his chest, latching onto his left nipple and sucking and biting playfully. Spike gasped, grabbing her hips and pulling her against him so that his hot, hard cock slid against her drenched slit.

Reaching down, Buffy took a hold of his cock and slid her hand up and down.

“Uh, Buffy…yeah…touch me…” Spike moaned as her hand moved faster and shuddered when she sucked her thumb into her mouth and then brought it down to circle the tip.

She knew he was close, but she wanted him to come inside her, so raising her hips, she pressed her knees against his chest, and directed him into her.

They both gasped in mutual appreciation as she slid down onto him. He hadn’t even touched her pussy and already he could feel his cock being coated with her juices. His fingers dug into her soft skin as she began to move at an achingly slow pace.

She kept her eyes open, her gaze locked with his as she began to move faster, her walls contracting around his cock as her pleasure built.

Unable to take the cock-strangling spasms any longer, he pushed her back against the rug and began thrusting into her. Buffy caught on quickly, wrapping her legs around his hips and digging her nails into his muscular back, heated pleas and declarations of love being whispered in his ear.

He was hitting her at just the right angle and she began to tremble as she teetered on the edge of what she knew would be a mind blowing orgasm.

“Spike, please, I’m so close,” Buffy whimpered.

Their eyes remained locked as he slid his hand down between them to pinch her clit sending her careening over the edge. Her whole body shaking in orgasm, she squeezed her internal muscles hard and heard him gasp as he followed her into oblivion.


Later on, they rested amid the Egyptian cotton sheets of Spike’s king size bed.

“This still feels like a dream,” Spike told her, lovingly caressing her golden curls as she curled up beside him with her head pillowed on his chest.

She looked up. “You want me to pinch you?”

“Not with your nails, luv. I’ve still got the crescent shapes in my back.”

Buffy giggled. “I love you.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” he said with a grin, before his face turned serious. “I’m so glad you came to me, Buffy. I’m so glad you stopped running.” He stroked her cheek. “I know how hard it was for you. I know how much you loved Angel and how much pain his death caused you.”

“But I had to let go. I know that now. I didn’t realize it before, but now I understand that when there’s a chance for happiness you can’t let it slip away otherwise you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it. And I didn’t want that.”

“I didn’t either,” Spike admitted, immediately observing Buffy’s frown. “You weren’t the only foolish one, pet. I didn’t want to admit my feelings for you either at first and I was also wary about love because I lost someone too – my best friend, Ethan.”

Spike had mentioned Ethan to Buffy on a few occasions, but had kept the details to a bare minimum. Now as they lay together in bed, having declared their love and with no more secrets between them, he filled her in on the rest of the story.

“Oh Spike, your mother’s right,” Buffy told him, holding him close as he recalled his grief and his guilt. “You can’t blame yourself for Ethan’s death. Anymore than I should feel responsible for Angel’s accident.”

He nodded. “I know that now, but for a long time I couldn’t help but feel guilty, especially at the thought of loving someone when Ethan would never love again.”

“I get that. I think a part of my fear was the feeling of guilt that I was betraying Angel’s memory.”

“We’re a right pair aren’t we?” Spike said, brushing his mouth against hers. “Bloody perfect for each other.”

Spike cradled her to him, his hand still stroking her hair. She was amazing. She was beautiful. He never wanted to let her go. And without any thought or hesitation, he whispered the words he’d been longing to say to her from the moment he’d admitted to himself that he loved her.

“Marry me, Buffy...”





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