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Author's Chapter Notes:
Well, here's the final chapter of this little romp folks. Thanks so much for your feedback; I hope you like 'the talk' and the ending.
CHAPTER THREE




Buffy sipped her soda and watched Spike knock back his second shot of JD. She raised her eyebrow when he poured himself a third.




“What? I'm kinda edgy, Buffy. Just settling the nerves a little. You sure you don't want...?”




“Uh-uh -- no thanks. I'll pass. Nice room.”




Spike looked round at the rumpled bedclothes, the floor strewn with clothes, the wet towels. He never had been a homemaker. “Yeah, well. Wasn't expecting visitors.”




Buffy was perched on the edge of the bed, her heart racing. She'd considered asking him back to her room, but there was no way of knowing if the Immortal would be waiting there and she didn't want to get into that right now. Spike stood with his back to her as he finished pouring his bourbon and she just drank in the sight of him, the nape of his neck where the curls just refused to lie flat and the coiled strength of his compact body. What on earth had possessed her to think that anybody other than Spike would ever come close to making her happy?




Spike turned around and leant back against the sideboard, making no move to close the distance between them. He sipped his drink, eyeing her over the rim. Buffy patted the bed at her side.




Slowly, Spike ambled across and sat next to her, leaving a good space between them. He really didn't know what to say now that the initial rollercoaster of emotions had stopped. 'How've you been?' didn't seem to cut it.




“So...how've you been?” Oh, well – Buffy seemed to think it did.




“Not bad, love. Dead, obviously. Burned up and spat out by the Hellmouth.”




“Yeah, how did that happen?”




“Well, not entirely sure but you remember that Liz Taylor bauble you gifted me with? Must've been a keeper 'cause it turned up in the mail at Wolfram and Hart and bam! There I was spilling out of it. Thanks for that, by the way.”




“I didn't know! How did it get there?”




“Not a clue. That's part of what Fred's looking into. You know Fred?”




“No, haven't met her. I think Willow did though; she liked her.”




“Yeah, she's great. Really cute and friendly.”




“Oh! How friendly...exactly?”




“What now, Slayer? You jealous?”




“Me? Pfft… not me.” A little nervous shuffling. “Any reason I should be?”




Spike smirked and made to tease her, until he saw her face. “No, love. We're friends, is all. She's just trying to help.”




“Great! That's…great.”




More uncomfortable silence. Clinking of ice on glass. “So, anyway. Bauble, me, Angel – who was not happy to see me, let me tell you. And did you know Harmony's working for him? Yeah, I was shocked too.”




“Harmony? Get out! Really? Is she...dating...anybody?”




Dammit! He'd forgotten about the girly radar that women have for exes. “Erm, not that I know. I've barely talked to her though...”




“Oh, yes. You didn't end on good terms, I remember. Great! I mean – right!”




He continued, thanking his lucky stars that he seemed to have gotten away with his ill thought out Harmony moment. “But at first I couldn't touch or be touched. I was like a ghost – although Fred thought it was more than that. She was working some mojo and had me all set to be solid and fully functioning when we had a run-in with some evil real ghosts and I nearly got sucked into hell. Thought that was my last chance but then again – pow! Another package arrives and I'm all solid.”




“You got something going on with the postal service I'm not aware of?”




Spike chuckled. “Yeah, seems like. Been helping Angel out ever since. Not that he wanted me to, of course. Peaches likes the solo 'I'm a hero' gig. Doesn't like to share the limelight – and I am prettier than he is, more lithe. He kicks up a real fuss.”




“I can imagine.”




“And there it is. Here I am. Here...we are.”




“Yes, here we are. But that doesn't explain why you didn't try to find me. Did you not want to know where I was?”




“Oh, Buffy. First words out of my mouth when I swirled into being in Angel's office were asking after you. Didn't go down well, let me tell you. Angel wouldn't even look at me, had to more or less haunt him to get him to say a word. Found out from Fred and the others that you were in Rome, but right then I didn't have any way of getting in touch. Couldn't pick up a phone 'cause I couldn't touch anything and didn't seem right to have somebody else translate.”




“No, I suppose not. But you wanted to?”




“God, yes. More than anything.”




Green eyes met blue, both intense and burning, both desperate to get past their self-imposed barriers.




“And when you were all with the body-having?”




“Yeah, well. That's when it gets complicated, pet.” Spike stood and reached for a cigarette, lighting up and dragging the smoke into his lungs. He paced a little, finishing his smoke before sitting back down. “I was scared. Scared you'd turn me away, scared that you regretted saying what you did. Figured you were just tossing me a bone, love – and I couldn't stand to find out that I was right. Oh, I had a ticket and everything – almost got on the boat. But I was too afraid. Less of the big bad, more of the big wuss, yeah?”




Buffy reached out a hand and placed it on his thigh, eyes fixed on his face and the sweep of his dark lashes where they rested against his cheeks. He turned his head to look at her.




“I understand, Spike. I do. But you should have just come and got me.” He turned away. “No, look at me.” He did, swallowing nervously.




“I’ve missed you so much. I thought you knew me, Spike. I don't say those words easily. I meant them then, and I mean them now. I love you. No – let me finish!” She placed a finger on his lips when he made to interrupt. “I was a wreck, Spike. Relieved that we'd mostly survived – you heard about Anya? Yeah, Xander’s not so good. But deep down inside, I hated myself for not staying with you until the end. Dawn didn't know what to do with me, neither did Giles. So in the end they bundled me off to Rome, got us an apartment there and got Dawn into school. I hated it.”




“Seemed like you were enjoying it when I was there, love. Nice apartment by the way, although why you were sharing with Andrew is beyond me. Oh, and he's fooling nobody with the hot babes on his arm thing.”




“Andrew? He knew you were back too? Oh, he is so dead!”




“Don't blame him – he kind of got the Angelus threat thing to keep shtoom about us being there, and he's not what you'd call brave. Flash of the old broodmeister's best threat face is enough to shut anybody up.”




Buffy giggled. Andrew was a big baby. “Still gonna have words with him. Who’d have guessed he could keep a secret? Anyway, the enjoying it bit – I was starting to, a little. People kept telling me to live, you'd told me to live...but it was hard. I know the night you must have seen me because it's the only night I've been dancing. Kept getting asked, kept saying no. Figured a crowded dance floor was less intimate than a candlelit restaurant. And I will admit, I did have one or two teensy drinks.”




Spike snorted. “Looked like you'd had a lot more than that, love. I wanted to come drag the git away from you, but Angel wouldn't let me. Said we had a duty to see our job through. It's harder than I thought being a champion.”




Buffy seized his hand between hers and smiled. “It is, isn't it? But maybe...if we do it together...?” She leaned towards him, lips inches away from his when he stopped her with a finger on her pout.




“Hold on a minute, Buffy. Don't get me wrong – it's taking all the willpower I have not to tear that dress off you, but I can't just get back into this without knowing how things stand between us. Had time to think, time to work out my place in this world. Seems like I'm a white hat now in my own right. Got friends too. My friends, not your friends who occasionally acknowledged I existed. I like that feeling, somebody bothering about me.”




“But I...”




“In a minute, pet. Let me finish. Buffy – I love you. There's nothing going to change that, ever. I've tried everything, so I know. But I need to know if you truly feel the same way, because if you don't, if saying it was just a whim, something that happened because of the intensity of the moment – I can't do it. It would kill me. Much as it would hurt, I'll leave you to the Immortal and you'll never hear from me again. Because if I can't have all of you, every fibre of your being wanting to be with me, then I'd rather have nothing at all.”




“I'm not with the Immortal. I thought I'd explained.”




“You said you'd had a spat.”




“Well, it was more than that. I told him to get lost. And anyway, I was never really with him in the first place. We dated, that was it. We never...you know. Because I didn't want anybody else but you. I don't want anybody else but you. You drive me crazy but I do love you. With everything that I am. Just took me a little while to realise it. I know my timing sucked, but I was telling the truth, Spike. Didn't you feel it? I don't think joined hands going up in flames happens to casual friends.”




Buffy turned to straddle his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed, her arms round his neck and her face all but touching his. Her dress was riding high on her thighs, her ankles locked behind his back. Spike's hands came to rest on her bare back, tingling deliciously where they touched her warm flesh. He was starting to believe that maybe this could work.




“Buffy...?”




“Can we talk about this later? Only, I'm not sure I can stop myself. Can we skip it and can you just be kissing me now?”




Spike pulled her close against him, feeling her settle against him in the familiar way he remembered, their bodies fitting together so well. She gave a little sigh of pleasure. Her warm breath tickled his cheek as he brought his lips to hers, tentatively at first, savouring the taste of her tongue as it flicked against his, then harder, more intense. Her hands were winding in his hair, pulling him even closer so that she could kiss him harder, lips, tongues and teeth clashing as they both fought for dominance. Spike found the halter tie to her dress and undid it with one hand, the other spanning her lower back as she arched away from him slightly to allow the material to fall to her waist.




He released her lips to drink in the sight of her naked breasts, her nipples hard and pink against her sun-kissed flesh. Her pulse could be seen easily, each beat making her breasts quiver as it sped up. Spike looked at her in awe; she was even more beautiful than he remembered. How could he have ever thought he could walk away? He shook his head slightly before dipping his head to take one pert nub between his teeth, swirling his tongue around the way he knew she liked it, gathering up the skirt of her dress with the hand at her back. He ran his fingers around the edge of her panties, Buffy moving her leg slightly to allow him to reach between her legs. She moaned as he stroked along her curls and ghosted a finger across her clit.




“Lie down.” Her voice was husky and commanding, and Spike had no problem obeying her. She jumped off his lap, the top of her dress hanging at her waist, her high breasts bouncing tantalisingly close when she bent down to take off his boots. He helped her toe them off, whilst shrugging off his shirt, lying back down to allow her access to his belt and zipper. He watched her, leaning back on his elbows, as she tugged on his jeans, lifting up his ass so that she could pull them off. As she got back up, she flicked her tongue over the head of his erect cock, and Spike arched off the bed, growling her name.




The dress slipped down over her hips to leave her standing before him in a red lace thong, strappy stilettos and nothing else. Her hair was twisted up on her head with wisps loosely curling around her face and she looked like a goddess. She reached up and unpinned her hair to fall in golden waves about her shoulders and Spike groaned. The minx knew exactly what she was doing because she turned around and deliberately bent over in front of him, letting him see the thong riding up the cleft of her butt and the soft curls that peeped from beneath it. With her thumbs she snagged both sides of the flimsy garment and slowly peeled it off and down her legs, stepping out of it delicately whilst still bent over. Spike started to sit up, desperate for a taste of the juices he could see glistening at her opening.




“Nuh-huh – stay down. Let me you show how I love you .” Buffy turned quickly once she knew she had his full attention, kneeling and pushing him flat with one hand while the other one wrapped around his cock and pumped it slowly. She watched him watching her as she ran her hand across his abdomen and down to squeeze his balls, keeping eye contact as she moved towards his groin and took him into her mouth.




Her mouth was hot as hell and delicious as heaven as she sucked on him, her hand continuing to pump in an increasing rhythm. Spike grunted with pleasure, almost delirious with the feeling of her lips and teeth grating along his dick. He wouldn't last more than a minute if she carried on like this; it had been so long and he wanted her so desperately. She seemed to realise as he tensed up, letting go of his cock with a soft pop, and getting to her feet. She was still wearing the strappy shoes and for some reason it sent Spike gaga.




He scooted further back up the bed at her unspoken order, reaching for her as she straddled him, her curls wet against his abdomen as she teased him by not taking him inside right away. She angled her butt so that she had his cock cushioned between her pussy lips, rubbing her cleft up and down along his length, moaning at every stroke that hit her clit. He was dying.




“Buffy, please!” He sat up slightly to grip her arms above her elbows, his eyes begging for her to let him inside. She giggled, but the throaty sound and her needy gasps left him in no doubt that it wouldn't be long. She wanted him just as bad.




With a slight movement of her hips she slid down on his cock, gasping as he filled her and staying still, eyes wide with the feeling. She let herself fall forward placing one hand on his chest and seeking out his eyes with hers as she started to move, biting her bottom lip as she felt the flutters of orgasm building already. She ground down on him, gyrating her hips as she started to move faster and faster, Spike bucking up to meet her thrusts. His nails were digging into her arms as he tried to control himself, knowing that any moment now he would shoot his load and wanting her to come before he did.




Her eyes went wide as the waves of pleasure shot through her, head thrown back and his name a prayer on her lips as her muscles gripped him tight inside her. He bucked a few more times then joined her in orgasm, growling her name and pulling her down on top of him to devour her mouth in an aching kiss.




They panted and delighted in the touch of each other's skin for a minute or two. Her hair was damp with sweat where it lay across his face, until Buffy moved, resting her head on his chest and running her hand along his stomach, twirling her fingers in the curls at his groin.




“Spike?” she mumbled sleepily.




“Yeah, love.”




“Don't ever leave me, 'kay? If the world needs another champion, can we let somebody else do it?”




Spike laughed softly, stroking her hair. “Dunno about that, love. The champion bit, I mean. The leaving – never. Not gonna let you go now, not ever. Can you say it again though? Now that I've got time to hear it?”




She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes, resting her chin on his chest. “Say what? Okay, okay – only kidding! Spike...I love you. I'll always be in love with you. I meant it in the Hellmouth and I mean it now.”




Spike dragged her up his body, kissing her again, but softly, intensely, with quiet passion and love. “And I believe you. Love you too, always will. Can't bloody stop.”




Buffy curled into his side, throwing one arm across him and nestling into his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed; for the first time since he'd been gone she wasn't dreading the dreams. Spike held her close, smiling when her breathing evened out and placing soft kisses on her head.




He was about to drop off himself when the door joining his room and Angel's cracked open.




“Hey, Spike – Lorne's got himself a karaoke gig at the Hilton – you want to come and drown your sorrows with me and a bottle or two, maybe a duet? Not that I like you, you understand – I'm just...BUFFY?”




Spike smirked. “Shhh. Poor girl's knackered, been a busy night.” He waggled his tongue and raised his eyebrow. Buffy moved and snuffled in her sleep, dragging him close.




Angel gaped in shock, his hand on the doorknob, unable to move. Thing was, he'd known that Buffy wasn't his anymore when they'd met up after Sunnydale’s demise, but knowing and accepting were two different things. She'd confessed to him that her feelings for Spike were a lot stronger than she'd admitted before and that she needed space from everybody to work things out. He'd known then that cookie dough or no cookie dough, he'd lost her.




He watched Buffy sleeping, saw the curve of her smile as she nestled into the blond vampire's caress. She was happy. He could see that. He loved her enough to let her have that happiness, and truth be told he'd changed too over the years. And Spike – well, not that he'd ever admit it to the vampire himself, but he was a good man all in all, deserving of a second chance. And he did love Buffy, with a fierceness and stubborn devotion that was all Spike.




Angel backed out, closing the door behind him and heading to find Lorne. He whistled 'Mandy' as he walked away; maybe the empathic demon could set him on the right path to happiness. Or maybe a bottle of good Scotch could.




THE END





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