Author's Chapter Notes:
Well hello faithful readers! I apologize for the delay in posting. As I said before, RL was really kicking my ass, and my muse, the brat she is, didn't hang around to watch. Hence the delay. Well, things are really looking up--thank goodness. I would like to thank Diebirchen for beta-ing this and helping me tremendously. She is such a wonderful addition to Sanityfair!!! Big Hugs ladies! Last but not least, big thanks to whomever nominated this story in Round 21 at the SunnyD awards!!!
Buffy battled as long as her body would allow. She fought valiantly. Regardless, she succumbed; sleep ultimately won. The heavy veil of darkness enveloped her and dragged her into a blissful unconsciousness that her weary body craved and required. For endless moments before sleep claimed her, her senses stretched across the dark, silent room toward her knight in tarnished armor, Spike. The mere thought that Spike had done something for her that didn’t revolve around annoying her to no end or almost killing her and her friends was simply…bizarre. For the past hour, the simple yet compelling phrase, “Spike saved me” was on permanent replay within her mind. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around this indisputable fact.

Any dime store therapist could have deciphered her fixation with this sole point as merely a stalling tactic on Buffy’s part. If her mind remained latched onto this one fact, she would never have to move forward. Never address the mammoth metaphorical elephant that resided within her mind. Regardless of her heart knowing the truth, her mind continued to dispute the inevitable. Buffy could no longer deny the fact that she was falling for Spike. Not the falling of a snowflake fluttering on a soft winter wind, but the falling of a person plummeting from endless heights into a fathomless crevasse filled with turbulent emotions. All these plaguing thoughts and feelings aided in her battle with sleep, until the persistent warrior, Hypnos, was victorious.

Spike remained motionless on his unmade bed, until the steady tattoo of Buffy’s heartbeat and the slow rise and fall of her chest announced that sleep had finally claimed her. It was bloody near impossible for Spike to remain still while she was awake. Surprisingly, even to himself, he held firm, despite how his demon demanded that he go to her, cradle her in his arms, and protect her from the outside world. Not that she needed protection. Nonetheless, he felt the draw. With her blood resonating through his body, her essence on his tongue, coating his throat and gut, his demon claimed her as his. Nothing or no-one would stand in his way to make this so. Sod the demon world, her friends, and his bloody poufter of a grandsire. Sod them all. Within this entire world, there was only one force that would hold him back from making her his, and she lay asleep a mere twenty feet away.

Regardless of her appreciation for his saving her, which was a feat in itself, he couldn’t misconstrue her feelings toward him. Gratitude doesn’t equate to desire. Even her peeping at him in the shower, couldn’t be mistaken for anything more than what it was, a hot-blooded female appreciating a handsome bloke like himself and his tight, lithe body. With a slight snicker and his trademark smirk, Spike pulled himself from the bed and continued his vigil over Buffy, upright. His silent pacing remained on his side of the red line, despite his mind and demon screaming for him to pass through the newly discovered watery entry.

His steps remained soundless as his mind rumbled with thoughts. ”Bloody stubborn bint doesn’t know what’s good for her. She’s always fighting, never taking a rest, even when her body demanded it. Well, how can she rest with all those around her being so needy? They needed her strength, her mind, and all that made her the slayer. They never just needed her, never just Buffy. That will all change when we get out of this hellhole. I’ll take care of her since nobody else, not even her bloody “friends” or the soulful poufter, will. Only the best for my girl, from now on.”

Spike’s eyes slammed shut at his words. He was a bloody fool. He knew the bitter truth. Buffy despised him. She hated everything that made him who he was. This irrefutable fact sat sourly in his gut. Even so, Spike hoped that these days that they had spent together and all that had transpired since their imprisonment would have put cannon sized holes in the rubbish the bleedin’ counsel of wankers had taught her. Their golden rule: humans good, demons bad. Utter shite! In addition to this little gem of erroneous “truth,” they had instilled in her the idea that this world only consisted in terms of black and white without its countless shades of gray. Unknown to her, the truth existed within this world of gray. Simply being a demon shouldn’t earn one a death sentence. On the same token, people don’t automatically deserve to exist just because they’re people.

While Spike continued his internal conversation, elaborate dreams filled Buffy’s mind. She dreamt that she was running through the night, only the cool air surrounding her sprinting form. It felt glorious the way the wind teased her unfettered tendrils of hair, danced along her exposed flesh, and filled her lungs with a purity that she hadn’t breathed since her captivity. As she ran, familiarity with her surroundings ran deep, yet she felt that there was something missing. Her movements stilled as she looked around her. Her gaze darted into the darkness until something in the distance caught her eye, a moving shadow that remained just out of reach. Sprinting forward once more, she called out. Regardless of her calls not a sound escaped her throat.

Each stride revealed recognizable scenery -- her home away from home, a cemetery. However, this wasn’t just any cemetery, but Restfield. Deftly weaving in and out of the gravestones, her movements halted once she reached a crypt. Initially, this wasn’t her intended destination, but it felt right for her to be here. Despite not knowing what she sought, what she was missing, the feelings within her declared that it lay beyond this granite barrier before her. Buffy forcefully pushed opened the door and passed over the threshold. Suddenly, another familiar scene met her eyes, her kitchen. She spun around quickly, unsure how she arrived there.

Buffy’s confused gaze took in all that surrounded her. She was standing in the middle of her kitchen, the same homey room that played a part in heart to heart talks with her mother and some strategic slayer planning sessions. Its warmth and inviting feel enfolded her, making her feel safe, loved. A small grin teased her lips as the scent of hot chocolate with melted marshmallows filled the air. Before she approached the steamy mugs of liquid happiness, strong yet loving arms gathered her into their embrace. Instantly, her mother’s unique essence surrounded her, causing her to throw her arms tightly around her waist in response. Soft tears of joy fell, as her mother continued to place chaste kisses upon her brow, all the while murmuring loving and soothing words.

“Oh Buffy, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Mom, it was horrible. They locked me away and forced me to fight in some modern day gladiator thingy. The only reason I survived was—“ Buffy searched her mind for whom had saved her, yet it wouldn’t come. Their name remained just out of reach. Joyce continued holding Buffy, only pulling back slightly to look upon her distressed daughter.

“What saved you, Buffy?”

“It wasn’t what mom, it was who. It was—“ Buffy’s words remained unfinished, the scenery changing once more. The kitchen walls transformed into walls lined with books, with a large plush couch in the center of the room. Instantly, recognition grabbed hold of her, as she was standing in Giles’ living room, surrounded by Giles, Willow and Xander.

Her friends instantly encircled Buffy, as her confusion remained unvoiced. Willow and Xander sandwiched her between them, as Giles wrapped them all within the cage of his arms. Newly formed tears swelled in her eyes from the love that flowed from them. Endless moments passed, Buffy basked in their declarations of love, how much they missed her, and how grateful they were for her safe return. Slowly, each pulled from the group embrace and took a position in the room. Giles stood at his desk, while Xander and Willow sat on either end of the couch. Their movements eventually encouraged hers. With tentative steps, Buffy rounded the couch, and headed for the space between them.

An empty chair placed in the middle of the room drew Buffy’s gaze. It wasn’t the chair itself that earned her attention, but the loosened ropes wound around its legs, which piqued her interest. Her brow furrowed from the same feeling that had been plaguing her before, that something was amiss. As the gang chatted noisily around her, Buffy remained silent until these feelings forced her to speak.

“Something’s not right. There's someone missing, but my mind’s all fuzzy, and I just can’t figure out whom.”

In response to Buffy’s words that hung heavily in the air, each person’s confused gaze darted around the room. Willow’s eyes followed Buffy’s line of sight. With a warm smile, she spoke, “Oh, don’t worry Buffy, it’s just Angel. You know how he’s one for the theatrics, all mysterious and brooding. He’s here; you just can’t see him right now, but don’t worry, you will soon.”

Xander began to mutter his thoughts about Angel under his breath, until Willow’s poignant look stilled his grumbling. Raising his hands in mock surrender, Xander moved his gaze from Willow back to Buffy, who responded with uncertainty. “Angel? I don’t—well maybe, yeah, maybe that’s who’s missing.”

With dual nods of agreement, Xander proceeded to pat the empty space beside him, urging her to sit. Still uneasy, Buffy turned to sit, until she noticed in her peripheral vision, the small hallway off to her right. Something inside urged her to head there.

Despite the numerous protests from behind her, Buffy followed the hallway and continued forward until she reached a door. Pushing slightly, the door swung open, revealing the bathroom. Hesitantly, she approached the old-fashioned claw-footed tub situated in the middle of the room. Instantly, her gaze lowered to the heavy chains lying upon the bottom. Strangely, feelings deep within compelled her to lean forward and tentatively brush her fingers over the iron links.

Flashes of who was missing, whom she sought, bombarded Buffy’s senses. His deep tone, which had been once unsettling and grating, now soothed her. His strong arms that once caused pain and destruction, now only bestowed comfort. His once taunting, hate-filled gaze now only radiated caring and concern. The total enigma that defied all labels, that baffled and enraged all that knew him, the sole person who accepted her more in these past days, then everyone else, including herself, since her calling -- Spike.

With this instant realization, Buffy’s distressed voice reverberated throughout the room. “Spike, where are you?” Running towards the living room, she frantically searched for him. Standing before her friends, her questions rushed forward.

“Where’s Spike? Everything said that he was here, but he’s not. Where is he?” Three pairs of inquisitive eyes fell on her, yet no one responded. Buffy’s gaze darted from one person to another numerous times before irritation took over. With slow, belligerent words, she questioned them once more.

“I said, where…is…Spike!”

Spike’s steady pace continued, awaiting the guards to take him to his fight. Despite how still he held his body until Buffy succumbed to sleep, his demon continued to roar and claw at his mind. From the instant he tasted the heady ambrosia of her blood, his demon demanded satisfaction. Only two things would placate it: either fists and fangs or cock and fangs. Knowing and disappointed that it couldn’t be the latter, Spike continued to wait for his turn in the ring.

Spike stopped mid-stride as an unidentifiable feeling washed over him, causing his mind to spin, his vision to blur as his consciousness waned and his legs threatened to buckle from under him. Staggering backwards, the edge of the bed brought him down in a graceless heap. ”Was I wrong about the poison? Bloody fantastic -- death by snake spit! At least she’s safe, that’s all that matters,” were his last thoughts before unconsciousness overtook him.

Spike felt as if he were floating weightless in the darkness that surrounded him. All was calm until he heard a recognizable voice crying out from the fathomless dark. “Spike, where are you?”

“Buffy?” Spike’s eyes widened, as he called out. Immediately, he gathered all his strength, pushing forward. Regardless of his uncertainty of where he was and the heavy obscurity enveloping and encumbering his limbs, only one fact remained clear: Buffy needed him, and that was all that mattered.

Buffy huffed in exasperation at her tight-lipped friends. “Fine, nobody wants to answer me. I’ll just go and find him by myself!” Her irritation and determination to locate Spike fueled each step towards the door. Buffy reached for the knob. However, before she could turn it to release the latch, a familiar voice stilled her.

“Buffy?” Angel’s melancholy voice rang out, as he emerged from the shadows. Releasing the handle, she turned toward him. He appeared before her, as he had many times previously: dark brown eyes imploring and troubled, nervously toying with his own hands, his shoulders slumped in an attempt to appear smaller and less menacing.

“Angel? What are you doing here?” Buffy’s tone held a mixture of confusion and slight irritation. This caused Angel to contritely lower his head. Typically, this behavior would bring out her compassion. However, now it only triggered further irritation bordering on frustration.

“Look Angel, I have to find Spike. I don’t have time for this…this…whatever this is!” Buffy’s voice rose as her exasperation mounted.

“That’s why I’m here -- to protect you.”

“Protect me, from what, Spike… myself?” Buffy snapped, her eyes ablaze. Angel’s despondent stare remained fixed on her. Tired of waiting for a response, Buffy disdainfully shook her head as she eyed those around her.

“Every night I fight the forces of evil, never knowing when my time will be up. Hell, I’ve already died once, and had an umpteenth number of close calls. Still you all feel that I can’t handle the one thing that I should on my own, my life. You give your opinions, which at times are forced upon me, so they become my opinions. There have also been countless times that decisions have been made for me—“ Buffy’s gaze darted towards Angel, held steady, then returned to the others. “Well, no more. If I’m strong enough to fight for my life and the side of good, then I’m strong enough to make my own decisions.” In response to her words, Giles removed his glasses and began frantically cleaning them. Buffy instantly recognized Giles’ classic “I’m concerned” move. She knew a lecture was next. Prior to his words coming forward, she held up her hand and continued. “If you love me, like you all say that you do, you won’t interfere with my choices or judge me for them. You’ll remain by my side no matter what.”

The moment the remainder of her words echoed in her own ears, the weight that had been burdening her since the day she arrived in Sunnydale lifted. All those years of feeling confined by others’ thoughts and views vanished. Turning from her friends and Angel, Buffy opened the door and instantly froze before the person who stood on the other side, Spike. Without a word, she launched herself into his embrace. Her eyes blissfully closed as his unique essence surrounded her. Since the moment she began this dream, except for the short time with her mother, she finally felt accepted and cherished for who she truly was.

Neither acknowledged the entire world outside of their embrace melt away. All that mattered was the two of them. Buffy relished how his strong arms encircled her, while the soft strokes of his hands and his murmured words simultaneously excited and soothed her. Spike, unsure how he actually arrived within her dreams and more importantly on the receiving end of Buffy’s embrace, instantly pushed past the confusion and savored the moment.

After endless blissful moments, despite how he loathed doing it, Spike pulled slightly from her arms, just enough to gaze down upon her. Sparkling green eyes filled with content met his, causing a smile to tug at the corners of Spike’s full lips.

“Not that I’m complaining at all, luv, for having an arm full of you, but what’s this all about?”

“Just my mind and those that live in these four crazy, squishy walls tried their damnedest to keep me from finding you. But as always, you came. You’re here.”

“You should know by now, I’m a bloke who’s hard to get rid of. Especially now, that you’re welcoming me with open arms, it will be damn near impossible.” Spike’s teasing but truthful tone made Buffy’s heart swell and expand.

With a soft sigh, she rested her head on his chest. Feeling his body against hers, finally confirmed all that she had been dissecting, denying and disbelieving since the first moments, he wormed his way into her mind. Spike became more than a vamp or an evil she must destroy. He became someone that she could rely on. Someone that she could trust to open up to, and maybe eventually, trust with her fragile heart that had been stomped on many times over. Despite the two occasions, once in her dream and the other after he saved her life, she wasn’t truly ready to admit to the ‘L’ word, maybe in time, but not now.

It was strange, not only two years prior she had loathed him, threatened and tried to kill him time and time again. Or did she, did she really try to kill him? If she really thought back, she never truly tried her hardest. Now being truthful to herself, during their fights she enjoyed the rush of fighting someone that was her equal, someone who could trade punches, as well as words. Buffy’s thoughts then moved from their fights to more recent events, specifically Willow’s my will be done spell. The way he held her, kissed her, looked at her with total and complete awe. Then Willow ended the wayward spell. Buffy fondly remembered how comically their eyes widen, and how much, almost theatrically so, they spat and rubbed their lips until they were nearly raw. These memories caused Buffy to smile, then erupt in a fit of giggles.

Spike pulled back once more and eyed her with a combination of curiosity and his own mirth at hearing her infectious tinkle of laughter. As his scarred brow raised, Spike questioned, “What’s so funny luv, don’t particularly like when my arms around my girl, and she’s laughing.”

The instant his words left his lips, Spike flinched, while inwardly berating himself. ”Bloody mouth always saying the wrong thing, brilliant move, soddin’ pillock.”

“Your girl?” Buffy’s inquiring stare held Spike’s gaze firmly. Her question hung in the air for several moments before he began to sputter a response.

“I…what I meant…well what I mean…I…bloody hell…” Enjoying how he squirmed and stammered, Buffy decided that she had tormented him enough.

“Your girl? I like the sound of that.” Spike startled mid-sputter, his eyes widening. He incredulously repeated her words, unsure if he had heard her correctly or if her response was just his mind creating an auditory hallucination.

“You like the sound of that?”

“I do,” Buffy responded with certainty.

“So what does that exactly mean, luv?” Spike hesitantly questioned.

“I don’t exactly know, but what I do know is that I don’t want to dust you anymore, and that your mere presence doesn’t invoke my gag reflex.”

“Oh, you're too kind,” Spike responded dryly, with a hint of a jest.

“Hey, that’s progress!”

“That it is, and I can clearly say that I don’t want to drain you dry anymore.”

“That’s a bonus, especially since I was recently full of snake poison and unconscious, with only you in sight.”

“Oi, like I said before, even though you weren’t all with it, I only did it to clear the poison -- nothing more.”

“Mm-hmm, that’s what all the vamps say,” Buffy teased, as she suppressed the smile that began to appear.

“No, no other vamps, only me, and if I have any say in the matter, that’s the way it will stay.” Buffy witnessed a flash of possessiveness radiating from his electric blues. Normally this would have angerd her, except now it filled her with longing and desire for the man before her.

Slowly leaning upwards, Buffy sought his lips. Witnessing her approach, Spike reciprocated, meeting her halfway. Their first kisses were tentative and soft, velvety lips lightly brushed, as they sampled and caressed. Pulses of electricity flowed from this smallest contact. Needing to taste the sweet cavern of her mouth, Spike’s deft tongue teased the seam of her lips. Buffy responded as her lips parted, granting him entrance. Desire instantly swept through them like a raging, torrid fire. His once idle hands sought her, as one hand laid upon the base of her spine, hovering above the swell of her backside. The other threaded through her golden tresses, seeking then cradling her head as his mouth devoured hers. To brace herself from his dizzying touch, Buffy clutched his shoulders, digging her fingernails deep into his flesh.

The mere contact of her lips and hands was not enough. Spike’s hand that was on her lower back, tensed as he clutched her closer, gathering her body to his. When her soft mounds, clad only in his worn tee shirt, pressed against his bare chest, dual moans reverberated throughout the once quiet darkness. Their eager lips continued a brutal, sweet assault on one another, as he swallowed mewls resounding from her throat. Endless moments passed as each explored, tasted and demanded more.

Boldly, Spike’s lips left hers, as he placed soft kisses on her sensitive jaw line. Savoring his pleasurable ministrations, Buffy tilted her head to the side, granting him access to the column of her throat. In pure awe, Spike gazed at the woman in his arms who had just given him her ultimate sign of trust, his golden goddess, his tiny warrior, his Buffy. Gradually Spike’s mouth descended her almost pristine stretch of flesh; only his twin puncture marks remained. Reaching them, his blunt teeth nipped and suckled, causing her back to arch, gasps of pleasure flowed.

Without warning, Spike pulled back from her throat, his demon bursting forward. His golden gaze darted into the darkness, as a loud growl sounded while he searched for the threat his demon sensed. Pulling out of her sexual stupor, Buffy’s eyes flickered open and eventually focused on him.

“Spike?”

As he tenderly cradled her face with his hands, Spike’s body began to flicker, first appearing almost ghost-like then disappearing completely, leaving only the echo of his voice behind. “Wake up, luv.”

The sterile metal walls of Buffy’s room came into view once her eyes flashed open. Sitting up immediately, her gaze searched for Spike. His back was toward her as he crouched before the deadly red line. It appeared as if he was trying to protect her from the three guards who stood on his side of the room. His menacing growl, confirmed her thoughts. Hearing the hum of electricity and witnessing the guard’s movements for the tazer located on their belts, Buffy immediately pulled herself from the linens, and approached his lowered form. Her plea remained a mere whisper that only his vampire hearing could detect.

“Spike, I’m fine. It’s ok, please -- they’re going to hurt you. I couldn’t stand it if they hurt you again.”

Spike remained poised in his feral crouch until several stressful moments ticked by. She saw his shoulders relax, his growl ceasing. He stood before them, raising his arms in submission, taking two tentative steps forward. Two guards rushed forward, roughly grasping his arms, and forced him towards the door.

Spike’s heated gaze sought and connected with Buffy’s, before they forced him out. “This is not over, not by a long shot.”

Watching him leave, their gazes expressed all that they couldn’t say. They both knew it would be deadly to disclose any involvement between the formerly bitter rivals. Slowly, her tongue traced her swollen lips as she savored his lingering taste. Buffy’s eyes remained fixed on the closed door as she silently vowed, “Not over, not by a long shot, Spike. Not by a long shot.”

























Chapter End Notes:
Well, I hope that it was worth the wait. Let me know either way!!!



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