Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, nor the dialogue in the beginning.
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“Who are you?”
“You'll find out on Saturday.”
“What happens on Saturday?”
“I kill you.”
---
“You're *not* friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood...blood screaming inside you to work its will.”
---
“The gem of Amara. Official sponsor, of my killing you.”
---
The person came to a stop about twenty feet away from her, panting heavily. Two large hands were lifted and smoothed down stray bleached locks and he sniffed. “So, uh…” he said, shoving his hands into his duster pockets. “Am I…am I too late?”
The blonde slayer didn’t answer, but the person behind her did.
“You made it…”
---
“Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth…”
---
“Out. For. A. Walk…Bitch.”
---
“What's going on?”
“Simple. I'm gonna prove something. I love you.”
“Oh my god.”
“No, look at me! I ... love you. You're all I bloody think about. Dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you, Summers, I'm drowning in you.”
---
Dawn stepped past her sister and stood in front of her. “You actually made it.”
He made no verbal response, simply nodded and kept his eyes trained on the small, blonde slayer. Dawn looked behind her at her sister. She smiled, and stepped away again.
---
“If you wanna just hand them over the threshold, I'll...”
“Come in, Spike.
“Hmm. Presto. No barrier. Um, won't bother with the small stuff. Couple of good axes should hold off Glory's mates while you take on the lady herself.”
“We're not all gonna make it. You know that.”
“Yeah. Hey. Always knew I'd go down fightin'.”
“I'm counting on you ... to protect her.”
“Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight.”
---
“I know you'll never love me. I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man. And that's...”
---
The heavy bag began to slip down the blonde’s shoulder and began its slow descent towards the ground. It finally slipped away and landed on the carpeted floor of the terminal with a loud ‘thump’ just as one small foot moved forward.
---
“Hundred forty-seven days yesterday... um, one-forty-eight today. 'Cept today doesn't count, does it?”
---
“I do remember what I said. The promise. To protect her. If I'd done that ... even if I didn't make it, you wouldn't've had to jump. I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course. But after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again, do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways ...Every night I save you.”
---
The steps hastily picked up speed, the girl making them beginning to sob. The bleached man opened his arms wide as she ran into them, and lifted her off of the ground. His arms tightly corded around her waist, never wanting to let go. Her small hands lay at the back of his head, petting and smoothing the soft locks.
Her face was pressed hard against the side of his, tears falling slowly onto his ear. Her fingers twined themselves in his hair, and she kissed the small spot of skin above his ear. “God,” she whispered. “I lost you…lost you…”
---
“You listen to me. I've been a live a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and done things I prefer you didn't. Don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I've only my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain, so I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong, bloody calls. A hundred plus years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of -- you. Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say I love you, it's not because I want you, or because I can't have you, and it has nothing to do with me. I love what you are. What you do. How you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you, and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You are a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy.”
---
“I don't wanna be the one.”
“I don't want to be this good looking and athletic, we all have crosses to bear.”
---
His arms seemed to squeeze her tighter, and he whispered, “But I found you…God baby, I found you and I’m not letting go again.”
Their grips on each other loosened slightly, and she slid down his body, her fingers still firmly entangled in his hair. His hands left her waist to cup her face, using them to erase any evidence of her tears.
“There, there, kitten,” he whispered. “No more tears…”
And with that, he lifted her chin with his strong hands, and his lips met hers for the first time in two long years.
---
“Angel said... this amulet is meant to be worn by a champion.”
(Spike turns away, and Buffy hands him the amulet.)
“Been called a lot of things in my time...”
---
His lips were soft and smooth, yet at the same time firm and hard. They yielded underneath hers and welcomed her warm taste.
Her lips parted slightly, and he slid his tongue inside, coaxing and caressing hers to its rightful place.
For her, it meant that he was real. Only Spike tasted this way; the faint musk of tobacco, salty, and him. That wonderful, indescribable, magnificent essence of Spike.
Their lips parted too soon, hers returning to that lovely spot above his ear. She pressed a few more fevered kisses against his skin, then buried her face against his left pectoral muscle, allowing her ears to listen to the steady heartbeat pounding away inside of him.
---
“I can feel it, Buffy.”
“What?”
“My soul. It's really there. Kinda stings.”
___
Her pixie face raised to his chiseled one, awe shining through her eyes as she whispered, “Miracle…”
___
“What are you looking at?”
“The man I love.”
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A/N---quotes from random!spike thru the seasons
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