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It had been so long since Spike had the feeling that it took him a little while to put a name to it. When he did, he smiled. Contentment…

It was refreshing to get to spend a quiet morning having breakfast in bed with his lover, even if his came out of a fast food bag and hers was pilfered hospital-stock blood in a ceramic mug.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she sipped from the mug, amazed at how quickly she’d begun to heal once he’d allowed her human blood. Her pale, skin was growing smooth again, her eyes bright and shiny. The spot on her head where her hair had been singed off was no longer bald, though the strands of hair coming in proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was no more a natural blonde than he was.

He reached out and ran his hand over the brown stripe before tucking it behind her ear. Buffy sighed, lowering the mug from her mouth. “That looks really weird, doesn’t it? The big patch of brown right there in the front?”

“We’ll fix it when it grows out completely,” Spike assured her. “Make you look as good as new.”

“I still don’t know how you could want me with the way I looked before. I know I looked disgusting.”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t care how you look. You call to me, Buffy. You make my body burn in ways I’d forgotten about – if I’d ever really felt them in the first place.” He ran his hand down her naked thigh, feeling the way she trembled from his touch. “When this is all over, I’m taking you some place where I can spend days fucking you good and proper.”

His promise made her shiver, and Buffy downed the rest of the blood in her mug, set it on the arm of the couch, grabbed Spike’s head, and pushed him between her thighs. Spike didn’t hesitate, only repositioned himself so he could find better access before beginning to lick and nip at her clit, two fingers pushing into her. Buffy moaned, her hand tangling in his platinum curls, holding him in place.

“Mmm…that’s a good little vamp hunter,” she teased, smirking down at him. He looked up at her and met her eyes before giving her clit a hard bite. “Fuck, yeah!” Buffy yelled, her head hitting the back of the sofa. “More, baby. Eat me up real good.”

It drove Spike wild to watch her grow strong again, move away from the frightened, broken girl he’d seen in the bathtub. This was the confident woman who’d made him rock hard as he’d fought her in that alley, the woman who made him crazy with lust.

He lifted his head, panting, his pupils dilated with lust until his eyes were almost black. “Let me fuck you, baby. Please…”

Buffy shook her head, her eyes flickering gold for a moment and a wicked grin firmly in place. “Not until I’ve had my fill of your tongue,” she told him before pushing him back against her cunt. She thrust her hips against his mouth, muffling his moans. “Make me come, Spike. Make me come hard…”

Spike added a third finger, pumping them roughly in and out of her as he alternated between lapping at her clit with his tongue and nipping it with his teeth. Buffy writhed beneath his touch, animalistic growls and high-pitched cries sounding from her as she hurtled towards orgasm.

She vamped out when she came, her hands grasping at him until she grabbed his shoulder, bringing deep red welts to his skin. Spike looked up at her, asking with his eyes for permission to take what he wanted, but Buffy shook her head. “More,” she gasped, her body still shaking. “Do it again…”

He did as she asked, low growls rumbling through him as he feasted from her. He kept going, bringing her off a second and third time before she finally said the words he’d been longing for. “Now, Spike… Fuck me, now…”

Spike surged up her body, thrust inside. Five deep strokes and he was coming, his fingers digging hard enough into her hips to bruise a normal woman. Buffy screamed his name, bucked against him, and came a fourth time.

Spike panted, fighting to catch his breath as he rolled them over, Buffy splayed out on his chest. “You’re a bossy little bitch, aren’t you?” he asked playfully, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She smirked. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Those really aren’t the kind of orders I mind,” Spike replied. He licked his lips. “You taste exquisite.”

“Angelus never really liked doing that much, so it’s nice to get to indulge for once,” Buffy admitted. “And you have a really nice tongue.”

“Angelus is clearly a raving idiot on top of everything else.” Spike ran his hand down her ass. “And I do, don’t I?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, though there was a smile on the corner of her lips. “Cocky much?”

“Very much,” Spike replied with a grin.

Buffy chuckled at his response, but then he watched as her expression changed, her eyes going from playful to…something else. “Tell me you love me again,” she pleaded, needing to hear it again, needing him to make her believe maybe this could be something real. “I…I liked how it made me feel when you said it.”

“Oh, sweetheart…Buffy… I love you. I love you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his neck, and suddenly she was the vulnerable girl again. Spike loved her like this just as much as when she was in control, loved how it made him feel to be able to comfort her, to warm her skin with his own.

And she was everything rolled up into one small package. She was all he’d ever loved and hated, his salvation and his damnation. She made him feel stronger even as she was bringing him to his knees.

She could break him with a touch, then use the same hands to put him back together again.

Spike remembered a time when he’d believed in fate, in a love so strong it was destined, unavoidable. There’d been a time when he’d spend hours penning odes to the power of such love.

One look into Dru’s dead eyes, and he’d lost the faith.

He’d stopped believing anything was meant to be. Life and love were cruel, tempting you with something always out of reach, snatching it away forever just when you thought you could almost touch it.

Then Buffy had fallen into his life, and the stars had crashed together.

The love he held for Buffy felt bigger than him, bigger than anything he could ever control. It had taken him over, burst into his heart when he hadn’t been looking, hadn’t been searching. He’d tried to look at her through eyes of hate, yet in an instant, his world had turned upside down and he couldn’t breathe anymore unless he was breathing in her.

If it wasn’t destiny, wasn’t fate, Spike didn’t know what else it could be. Passion like this could never be an accident.

And with Buffy, he had no doubt that whatever hand life dealt them, the passion would be the same. Had they met in the suburbs at a bloody PTA meeting, he’d still burn for her.

They were more than destined. They were epic.

Spike knew it might make him an arrogant sod to want to list them in the pantheon of great lovers, but he knew it was true nonetheless.

“Love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word.”

Her declaration was barely more than a whisper, muffled by her face against his chest, and Spike tilted her chin with his finger so she would look at him again. “What was that, pigeon?”

“Love…it…it doesn’t seem like a strong enough word,” Buffy said again. “To describe what I feel when I’m with you. I loved Angelus, but… It wasn’t this. It was nothing like this. I’m with you, and everything spins out of control.” She swallowed, her hand stealing between their bodies to take hold of his, entwining their fingers. “When I was a little girl, we used to visit my grandparents. They lived out in the country, and there was this big field outside their house, full of wildflowers and nothing else for as far as I could see. And I used to go out there, and I’d spin around so fast that the sky and the field would seem to blend together, like the world was out of control, and all I could do was spin with it, even if I ended up falling.”

She looked down at their hands, and for a moment, she was certain her heart was beating again. “That’s how I feel with you. Only…only bigger.”

Spike sucked in a deep breath, not needing to ask her for a further explanation. He understood completely what she was trying to say, and it made his heart constrict to realize her thoughts so closely mirrored his own. “Buffy… Never knew I could feel this way. Didn’t…didn’t even think it was possible to burn like this.”

“I…I don’t think most people ever do,” Buffy replied softly, stroking his hand with her thumb. “I think…” She stopped, shook her head, and rephrased her words. “No, I know. We’ve got something special.”

“We do,” Spike agreed softly.

“Even if it would probably seem sorta crazy to anyone who’s not us,” Buffy added, her brow furrowing. “I mean, we’ve only known each other for a few days, and most of that was all torture-filled.”

“Who said love had to make sense to anyone but the two people feeling it?” Spike squeezed her hand gently. “I’m not letting you go, Buffy. Not even after Angelus is dust. You do know that, don’t you?”

Buffy let her eyes flicker away from his again. “I still don’t see how we’re going to work, Spike. We’re from two different worlds. I mean, aside from the little stuff like how you’d never exactly be able to take me on a Sunday afternoon stroll through the park, what about the big things? Like do you really think we can share the same bed after going out at night and killing each other’s kind? You kill vampires and I kill people – that’s going to cause some issues, no matter how strong what we feel for each other is.”

“We’ll work those issues out,” Spike replied, his expression set in stubborn determination the likes of which Buffy didn’t think she’d ever seen before. “We’ll figure out a way to make it work. We have to. I can’t give this up. I can’t live out the rest of my life knowing there’s a woman out there who I love this much – who makes me feel this much – and I’m not with her. We’ll just have to fight to make it work is all.”

“Which is all very nice and romantic, but…” Buffy pulled her hand away from his and sighed. “I can’t fight what I am, Spike. I can tell you right now I’m not going to be able to keep it to bagged blood like this. I love you, I do, but…I’ll slip. There’s no way I can keep from slipping. Feeding…it’s about more than just getting blood. It’s…” She sighed again. “I can’t even explain it. Not to a human. I’m sorry.”

“Try.”

Buffy shook her head, not wanting to tell him more. How could she tell him the sheer rapture that came with sinking her fangs into a living, breathing, victim? How could she tell him there was a part of her that could only be sated when she felt the last bit of life slip from someone? That she didn’t just crave blood, but craved taking the life that came with it? How could she explain to a man who hated vampires what it meant to be one?

“I can’t.”

Spike was quiet for a moment, a stillness passing through the room before he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his chest shuddering as he did. “Then maybe you should show me.”

Buffy looked at him sharply. He couldn’t be suggesting… “Spike?”

“When this is over. When Angelus is gone, and we’ve taken care of the past…” Another deep breath, and he was looking into her eyes…

“I want you to turn me.”


Chapter End Notes:
Okay, I know that cliffhanger had to give you some sort of reaction… Leave a review and let me know. It would totally brighten up my otherwise rather crappy weekend…



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