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Sixteen Days Later

One more drink leads to another, you slide up close to me
Tear the T-shirts off each other
Your hands all over me

Buffy froze in place as the song ran over her skin like gentle sandpaper. She knew it meant something, knew it reminded her of him, but she didn't know why.

Maybe it was playing one of those times his body covered hers; perhaps the lyrics just fit well enough. Whatever the reason, she felt the song defined something. It highlighted the memories with a fat yellow marker, if nothing else.

The radio couldn't be heard in the bathroom, so Buffy was unprepared when she walked out to continue the tireless game of "Can I take your order?"

She should have been ready, honestly. The damn song was playing every other hour on this country station the whole staff favored, and she knew all the words by heart. Buffy couldn't say she disliked the song, rather the opposite; it just made her sad.

Of course, that hardly took more than a male voice nowadays, or a pair of blue eyes. Or a leather coat. It was easy to think of him, whether a stranger's flirting smile resembled Spike's in some undefined way or not.

She appreciated it greatly when people opened doors for her, because he had done that. She saw Charlie's persistence to woo Sarah in a completely different light now, and once, Buffy found herself giving away free dessert to a young couple for no other reason than she'd noticed a few things. The man's hand falling to his girlfriend's back, the way he insisted she drink lemon and honey after coughing a minute, the way he stared like he absolutely adored her. The reflection in her green eyes that said she felt the same.

Buffy shuddered. Amazingly, every reminder was both a welcome and detestable thing.

Spike was destined to be a face in her memory bank, but never one sitting across from her again. Sometimes, she still felt his touch at the bottom of her spine. The mark on her throat, the bite she had received but never once asked the reason behind, was a pleasure hotspot. It was perpetually red due to her rubbing it all the time; she didn't know if that was normal or not, getting turned on just from playing with a scar.

However, it was too sweet a torture for Buffy to care.

I tell myself I’m not in love
But one more time is not enough
One last kiss and then you’re a goner
And I’m here wishing you could stay a little longer

A few customers slid into her line of vision and she scanned their faces one by one. Her job had gained points in the difficulty column. Each and every person who came through the diner was worthy of minimal but devoted consideration now. She stared only as long as it took her to realize they weren't Spike, encounter disappointment like a slap, then glance away; it was exhausting.

Buffy didn't take days off if she could help it, though. Because frankly, staying busy serving people their meals was better than sitting alone in her room. While she hated to acknowledge the possibility that she could forget his face, those hands, his eyes, it was equally hard to remember. Because remembering stirred up the yearning in her chest, deepened that empty feeling she tried very hard to ignore every time someone spoke her name with smirking lips.

It was a vicious cycle. Buffy didn't know what to do about it, so she waited tables.

The idea of leaving sprang to mind frequently, but it was brushed away just as often. If she left, where would she go? What would she do? What if he came back?

Buffy sighed with disgust, tossing her apron on the countertop beside the coffee machines. She knew she couldn't live her life around this, around the slim possibility Spike might return. Even if he did, what would they make of the time? Spend it carelessly on wild, amazing hours that felt more like minutes, then Buffy miss the man that much more when he left? She couldn't, couldn't, couldn't live around something like that, something so dependent and desperate. So wanting.

Why hadn't she gone with him?

*Ugh!* She needed to stop with the past dwell-age already! She just missed him. Really, really missed him. It felt like they'd fallen in love, but the notion only brought more pain, and besides, Buffy knew it was crazy.

One more call
It’s one more “whatcha doin right now?"
It’s one more trip to my side of town and you walk right in

She was dealing. She totally dealt. Even when the shaky voice below her heart was crying, Buffy fought valiantly, and knew she would be okay in time. What was that saying? Time healed all-

"Care to buy me a drink, love?"

-wounds. Buffy spun around and stared across the cluttered countertop.

One more here we go again

There, dressed head to toe in black, his coat dusted with melting snow, stood the man of her dreams, memories pouring forth from his eyes.

Her jaw fell open. She gazed at his wide, thrilling smirk. The undiluted happiness there reflected in her chest, and filled her heart like an empty pitcher.

She smiled, and it was brilliantly painful for her cheeks.

"You-" Moving closer, hesitant to leap across the room, Buffy tried to speak. "Spike, you came-"

"Back," he finished. "I couldn't-... Couldn't stay away."

When he didn't continue, she treaded softly by hedging. "... Because of the food?"

He smirked lightly, and the look warmed her. "You." He pushed forward, the only thing stopping their collide was the counter. "I couldn't keep drivin', love. The further away I got, the more I wanted to turn around."

Buffy swallowed, and stupidly asked, "Where were you going?"

She wanted to slap herself in the forehead, but Spike merely answered the question as if it wasn't wholly pointless. "I didn't know. Didn't care, honestly. Didn't think it mattered anymore, once I left this place." Heat lit the stare so fixed, those twin blue eyes that sparkled with uninhibited adoration. He gazed at her with something profound and unnamed beside it all, something she would never have believed if she hadn't seen his face. "After I left you," he said, and her heart opened.

"I want-" A rough shake of his head, accompanied by a sigh. "Look, I don't understand this. I don't know how you got in, but you did, and all I know's that I want you."

Buffy walked to the left, and he followed like a shadow. Spike's hand pressed over his heart. "You're in here. My blood keeps fightin' my head, and I don't care 'bout risks or how you bloody did it. I just- I just want to- I feel somethin' here." She reached the open edge of the counter, turning the corner. "I want you, Buffy; and I don't mean in passing." His eyes overflowed with vulnerability. A deep whisper expressed the declaration, "I need you."

His face was an open book, showcasing every emotion he couldn't voice, the words unspoken due to a sheer inability to phrase them. Things he couldn't say because his mind was too fogged by the winds screaming "Follow this path. Take this direction. Don't let her go!"

One more drink leads to another
You slide up close to me

Buffy moved slowly, their eyes locking. Her nerves were singing under her skin with every step, jolts of adrenaline firing like canons. Upon reaching him, she stood still, close enough for Spike to feel her breathe.

Tear our t-shirts off each other
Your hands all over me

He wanted to grab hold of her and never let go. Except she was staring at him as if he'd just lost every last penny to a wish that would never be granted. His stomach clenched.

But then...

I tell myself I’m not in love

She touched his chest, and ran gentle fingertips across the thin cotton of his T-shirt. Grasping his wrist, then wrapping his hand in her smaller one, Buffy squeezed. A sparkling sheen overlaid her eyes.

But one more time is not enough

She gave him a watery smile. "What do you say we get outta here?" Spike felt shivers break out over his body. He yanked Buffy close and kissed her, the proverbial fireworks going off in the distance. They could both hear the explosions while the world continued to move, unbothered as it shifted beneath their feet.

Stay a little longer
Wishing you could stay a little longer...

The diner was left behind, in silent awe of the display as the couple held to each other and ran like their lives depended on it, back to the room they both remembered. They threw away the self created barriers, and come the weekend, they would leave town.

Together.

They would teach each other many things, not the least of which was how to love cold weather, the faults in one another, and hazardous snowstorms.

***
Epilogue

Buffy was sitting on a porch, hidden within a sparse layout of pines, and connected to a cabin.

She held a diary in her lap, crisp white pages lying atop both thighs with a pen nestled in between. Buffy had written over fifty pages in this one, but she had three others in the house. They held stories, the many anecdotes, thoughts and feelings she'd experienced since leaving that sleepy little town with Spike some time ago. They hadn't gone back, but Buffy knew he'd take her at the merest hint that she wanted to visit.

Sometimes she wondered what the diner was like now, whether or not Charlie had made any improvements, or finally talked Sarah into going on a date with him. Buffy thought about Mary, and the clumsy boy whose name she couldn't recall. She remembered her old room at the inn fondly, the memories she and Spike had created there fresh like spring flowers and never losing their appeal.

At the moment, her vampire was out prowling the woods, checking the perimeter of the land and making rounds in the cemetery located only half a mile away from their house. The evening light was clouded over enough that she knew he'd be safe from the sun.

They had driven for weeks after taking off, living a road trip style kind of life without any real destination to reach, depending on each other and odd jobs. It was the sort of life that enriched even the finest blood, fueled heartbeats and pulses like wood fuels a fire.

Buffy didn't remember what day they'd finally decided to settle down, couldn't recall if the air smelled like summer or spring. She and Spike had found another little town, by the name of Willington Sails, off the coast of Oregon. The house they claimed was old and sturdy, purchased with a portion of Spike's and her own savings. She got a job at a local restaurant in town, and he was working on cars, taking the evening shifts nobody else wanted. It might have been mundane, if it weren't for the fact they loved every minute.

Buffy looked up from her moving pen when she heard the familiar crunch of breaking twigs. She saw Spike emerge from the trees, and smiled in welcome.

He still wore his long leather duster, and he did so proudly. Buffy chuckled every time she remembered the looks they received when they first moved into town. It might have taken a while for the people of Willington Sails to accept the odd couple who seemed fond of sleeping late and walking along the beach after dark, but eventually, Spike and Buffy became just two more people in town with their own little quirks.

One of which was Spike's penchant for wearing leather, ripped jeans, and black cotton T's no matter how cold it was. The Oregon coast was a chilly place, and while Buffy liked the crisp weather, one had to know how to dress for it; Spike, fortunately, gave in to playing the part of mortal and tossed on a sweater once in a while for the locals.

The vampire in question strode across the steps of the porch. Buffy closed her book and set it aside, standing before Spike slipped into her chair and then tugged her gently into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her ear fondly.

Buffy sighed as she settled in. "Anything going on out there?" The quiet sound of a bird echoed in the forest, travelling on a cool breeze that played with the ends of her hair.

Spike twined his fingers in the golden strands. "Not a lick of action. A bloke could get restless in this town if it wasn't for the bloody ridiculous amount of fish demons we've got washin' up on shore."

Buffy snickered. "Hallelujah for fish demons."

"Yeah, so long as you stay away from the beach when m'not around, they're more fun than trouble." Spike laid a delicate kiss on her throat, and she squirmed on his lap. "Ticklish, kitten?"

Buffy bit her lip, ignoring his deep chuckle. He'd taken to calling her by that nickname more often than anything else about a week into their relationship, and it still made her heart flutter just as much now as it had back then. "You know that's not the reason," she muttered.

"Then what is?" he asked, running a hand down her side before squeezing the curve of her hip.

"Spike..." she sighed his name, pleasure rolling off her lips like a breeze. "I have to talk to you."

He went to work on the sensitive spot beneath her ear, nibbling and kissing as he tugged her closer still. "I'm listenin'."

*Yeah right,* she thought, but spoke anyway. "I got a hold of that girl you told me about."

A second passed, then he froze. He pulled back with seriousness reflected in his eyes. "Tara? You found the bird?"

Buffy nodded. "I guess she's living in Washington with her girlfriend and their coven. I- I talked to her about... Well, first I explained who I was, and how I knew you." Her fingers played with the black cotton stretched across his chest.

Spike nodded. "What'd she say?"

"She said she missed you, but that she'd known about me, somehow. She said... she knew you were happy, I guess, and she was excited to talk to me." Buffy laughed shortly. "Frankly, I think she would have been happier if she could have talked to you, but I told her you were at work. You have to call her back, by the way."

Spike nodded again, sitting up straighter. His hold tightened around her body, and Buffy smiled warmly when she saw the apprehension in his eyes. "Did you- I mean, what'd she say about the mojo?"

"She thinks she can do it."

Spike jerked, eyes widening further. "She does- She can? She-" At his lost look and complete lack of coherent response, Buffy started to giggle joyfully. "I don't know what you did for her, Spike, but she said she's willing to help us any way she can."

Her laughter echoed over his shoulder as Spike hugged Buffy against him, his eyes squeezing shut over tears. There had been one complication in falling in love with a human, and that was life-spans.

He would never give her up despite the passing of time and growing older. Spike knew he was as good as dust once Buffy left this world, but he didn't care. He would do anything to be human again, if it meant he didn't have to survive without her, but that wasn't feasible. Neither was making her immortal. He wasn't about to take the chance and turn her. If she lost her soul, she'd likely never be the same; it would be like killing her.

However, Spike had remembered something- Or rather, someone. An old friend who owed him a favor he had never planned on cashing in on, until now.

Tara, a bloody powerful witch he'd stumbled across a few years back, was a friend. Spike thought perhaps, if he tracked her down, maybe she could wire a spell to give Buffy immortality, or at least increase her life-span to some supernatural length of time. Buffy knew it might require some cellular level rewiring, and she was prepared. She wanted to stay with him, and while Spike knew it was selfish to keep her, they both loved each other too much not to try.

He pulled back and kissed her, desperately begging entrance with his tongue and then swallowing her sigh of acquiesce. Their lips pressed sloppily and teeth scratched, but it was sweet and brimming with love like champagne overflowing a glass flute. She broke it only to retrieve air. Spike quickly charted hungry nips and kisses down her throat. She gasped and pulled him closer by his leather clad arms. "I take it this means you still want-"

"Bloody hell, never not want it," he growled against her skin, lifting his face once again. "I want you, anyway I can have you. Always need you. I love you, Buffy. God, I love you so much."

She melted like chocolate above a flame. "I love you, too." She kissed his cheeks, his lips, his chin and nose. "I love you, Spike."

He stood up, tugging her legs firmly about his waist, finding her mouth with his once more. And like the ending of every good story, the knight carried the princess up the tower stairs and to bed.

Or, in this case, the vampire carried his lover into their woodsy home, and up the creaky, polished steps which led to a king sized bed burdened with comforters.

And they lived happily ever after.

The End

_______________________
END NOTES: Thank you to everyone who read and to those who reviewed! I really hope everyone enjoyed this story, and I hope it pleased your inner saps because I frankly LOVED writing cheesy adorable spuffiness. Again, thanks to all who read! I would love any last reviews if you guys want to drop me one. *big hugs*





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