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Spike watched as Buffy tended to his wounds. She'd done this for him before, after he'd been a prisoner for the First, but it seemed different now. Less like a comrade-in-arms tending to battle wounds, and well, more like a girlfriend taking care of him.

"You said you loved me," he said, the words leaving his mouth before he was able to fully realize he was even thinking them.

"I did. And I do. You?"

"I've loved you for so long. Couldn't stop if I tried, but…"

Buffy put her finger to his lips. "No buts right now, okay?"

Spike moved her hand away and shook his head. "I can't do that, kitten. Too many of 'em. I can't have you back in my arms only to lose you again."

"You won't."

"Buffy, luv, we don't even live in the same county. Besides, you have a boyfriend."

"Yeah. You."

"No, not me… Wait a minute."

"I want to be with you. And I know there's all that other stuff, but can't we just sort it out in the morning?" She gave him a slow smile. "Or maybe the late afternoon."

"You know what you're sayin', kitten? 'Cause I can't put myself that that again. I need it to be real this time."

"It's always been real, Spike. But yeah, I know what I'm saying. And I know it might take a bit of work, and I doubt things will ever be easy for us, but I made a decision today, and I plan to stick with it."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"You're worth it. We're worth it. What we have between us, I'm not going to let it go."

Spike looked at her with awe. "You really mean that?"

"I do. I love you."

In an instant, Spike was kissing her. The feel of warm lips touching hers surprised Buffy for a moment, as feeling any heat from him despite that which he borrowed from her was a new experience. But the feel of his kiss was so undeniably Spike that she soon settled into it. The movement of his lips, his tongue, were as familiar to her as anything she'd ever known. Living or undead, he was hers. She closed her eyes, melting into the sensation of coming home.

Suddenly, Spike pulled away, gasping for breath. Buffy was confused for a moment before she started to laugh. "Didn't take enough air for that, did you?"

Spike coughed. "Never had to before."

Buffy rested her hands against his chest. "Then I guess we're just going to have to get some practice in so you can get used to it."

Spike's eyes stayed trained on her lips, red and swollen from the kiss he'd just given her. "Yeah, we will." He pulled her to him again, wanting to kiss her senseless even if it took every breath away from his body.

The next time it was Buffy who broke away panting. "Bedroom. I need you."

Spike replied by lifting her off her feet and carrying her the short distance to his bed. He laid her down gently, then pulled back, his heart tightening in his chest at the sight of her in his bed, her golden hair fanned out on the pillow.

"Are you going to stare at me all night, or are you going to make love to me?"

A lump formed in his throat. In all their time together, she'd never used those words to describe their coupling. Buffy, his Buffy, loved him and wanted his love in return. "I'm gonna make love to you, baby. Gonna show you just what you mean to me."

Buffy reached out, beckoning him to her arms. He moved into them without hesitation, covering her body with his own. "Love you," he groaned into her hair. "Love you so bloody much."

"Love you, too, Spike. Never gonna lose you again."

Her promise made his need grow even stronger, and he lifted himself up to pull off her shirt. "Wanna make this slow, luv," he said as he tossed the shirt aside. "Wanna spend hours learning you all over again. But…"

Buffy leaned up and kissed him softly. "I know. We have all night for that. Right now I need to feel you inside as much as you need to be inside."

"Are you sure? Because if you need me to get you ready…"

"I am ready. I've been waiting a year to have you back in my arms."

"Right then." With her permission to go at the pace he craved, Spike moved to her jeans, making quick work of the fastenings. Buffy helped him to undress her and then himself, her writhing movements as she did telling him she was indeed as desperate as he was.

They clung to each other with a need bordering on desperation, Spike's hot lips on hers like a brand. He wanted to make her his, and for once, she wasn't going to fight it. She wrapped one leg around him, pulling him close. "Spike, I need you. Oh god, William, please…"

Spike lifted up, wanting to be able to meet her eyes. The love he saw there overwhelmed him, and his heart hammered inside of him. He took her hand, placing it over his chest. "Is it beating too fast, Buffy? Been so long since I've had one that works, I don't…"

Buffy took his hand and placed it over her own chest. "It's okay. Mine's fast right now, too. They're beating together now."

"I love you. I know I keep sayin' it, but it keeps going through my head, and I can't help it coming out."

Buffy nodded in response, cupping his cheek. Spike took a deep breath, savoring the feel of air circulating through his lungs. He knew Buffy wanted him—loved him even. It was time to make their reunion official. He slid inside of her with ease, marveling at how he always fit so perfectly. She was tight, but never too tight, always enough to welcome him into her heat. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he buried himself to the hilt. Buffy moaned, thrusting her hips up, letting him know how much she wanted him to stay inside of her. It was almost bliss for Spike, almost the moment he'd been yearning for since his days as a human poet.

Almost.

"I need you to say it now, Buffy. I need to hear it now, when I'm inside you. Please, kitten. Please. Please…"

"Shh. You don't have to beg for that anymore." She stroked his face, then ran her fingers through his hair. "I love you."

Spike could feel the tears forming in his eyes, and he mentally berated himself for being such an emotional wanker. He was supposed to be making love to Buffy, not crying all over her. But this was it. The moment he'd craved for so long. He felt loved, wanted. And he'd found it here, in the arms of his golden goddess.

Buffy guided his head down, cradling him against her body. Her hands glided through his hair and over his back as her hips moved just enough to massage his cock, still nestled in her folds. After a moment, he pulled up a little. "Not very manly of me," he muttered, pressing a kiss against her neck.

"Spike, look at me."

He did, meeting her eyes only to find them full of tears as well. "'I'm right here with you."

"I know." He started moving then, sliding in and out, never taking his eyes away from hers. He could hear their hearts beating together and their breathing synched in a perfect rhythm. She'd always seemed so hot, but now he could feel his heat warming her even more from the inside instead of pulling her warmth away.

As the pace of their actions increased, Spike lost track of where he ended and she began. He was lost in the moment, absorbing it all through his vampiric senses as well as through a new intensity brought on by his recovered humanity.

Then he was lost, the pleasure too much for him to do anything but let go. He felt Buffy clench around him, heard her call his name, and knew she was there, too. Then it was all too much, and his world went dark.

*** *** ***

Buffy came to curled up against Spike's side. She looked up to find blue eyes staring down at her, and she blushed. "Sorry. I think I passed out for a minute there."

"That's quite all right, luv. Nice to know I can still do that to you." He kissed the top of her head. "Besides, I did, too."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You did?"

"Well, yeah. That was…"

"Intense?"

"That would be the word."

The two were silent for a while, enjoying the feel of simply being close to each other. Then, Buffy spoke. "So was it the way you remembered?"

"What?" Spike asked with a small frown. "Sex with you?"

"No. Sex as a human."

"Well, um, I… I really couldn't tell you."

"I guess it has been a while. I probably couldn't remember that far back either."

"It's not remembering that's the problem. It's that there's nothing to remember."

"What are you saying? That you were a virgin when you were turned?"

"Yeah." Spike shifted, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

"How old were you?"

"Twenty six."

"Twenty six? Seriously? You were twenty six and you'd never…"

Spike turned his head away from her, staring up at the ceiling. "Yes. Could you not make a big deal out of it? It was a different time. Things were…"

"I'm not making fun of you," Buffy cut in. "It's just… Whatever happened to 'I've always been bad?'"

"Never said what I was bad at."

"Okay. So tell me now."

"No."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not up for a post-coital confessional." Spike tensed up beside her. He couldn't stand the thought of her laughing at him. Things had been perfect, and now it was becoming this. Wasn't that just his luck…

"Spike, honey , please—don't shut me out. I want to know about you. It's important to me."

Spike sighed. "Fine. Poetry. I was bad at poetry."

"What? You are so not."

Spike looked over at her sharply. "When did you read my poetry?"

"You'd leave it around your crypt. Little scraps of paper here and there with bits of poetry on them, in your handwriting. I figured they were works in progress. But they were good."

Spike wasn't sure how to respond. On the one hand, he was a bit perturbed that Buffy would've secretly read his poems without saying anything to him. Although, given the nature of their relationship at the time, he knew why… But on the other hand, he was happy at the thought of Buffy enjoying his writing. "You really liked them?"

"Yes. And would I be completely self-absorbed in thinking that a few were about me?"

"More than a few, luv. Hell, in that time period, I think there were all about you."

"You're the only man to ever write poetry about me," Buffy said quietly.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Bother me? Why would it bother me? It's very touching, actually."

Spike pulled her closer so her head was resting on his chest. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if maybe I died in that battle, and this is Heaven."

"No. Heaven doesn't feel this wonderful."

Spike blinked. "You can't really mean that. It was Heaven. It must've been…well, heavenly."

"It can wait until it's time for me to go back. Right now I'm perfectly happy to live my life with the man I love. Besides, Heaven isn't exactly the place for mind-blowing sex."

"No?" Spike leered at her. "In that case, maybe I'd rather be damned."

"Well, you just went and got yourself redeemed, so if you want damnation, you better start sinning." Buffy winked.

The look he gave her in response was enough to make Buffy swoon. He rolled back on top of her, supporting his upper body with his arms outstretched on either side of her. "That an invitation?"

"Uh huh. You gonna accept?"

Spike responded with a grin, then slid down her body, stopping when he was resting between the apex of her thighs. He gave her a long, languorous lick, moaning as he did. "Buffy…luv… Bleedin' hell, I've missed the taste of you."

Buffy whimpered, deciding right then that there was nothing better in the world than an orally fixated man with a talented tongue. "I've missed letting you taste."

"Don't wanna taste right now. Wanna feast." His mouth was back on her in an instant, and Buffy had to fight from grabbing hold of his hair and keeping him close the way she was used to, reminding herself that he had to breathe now.

She wanted to let him know how wonderful what he was doing was, how good he could make her feel. But she couldn't find the words, the pleasure overriding her brain and stealing her voice. When Spike added his fingers, slowly pumping three of the long digits in and out of her, any coherent thought was gone from Buffy completely, and she thrust her hips, unable to keep them still any longer. Then Spike curved his fingers inside her, hitting just the right spot, and bit down lightly on the bundle of nerves he'd taken into his mouth, and Buffy screamed in release, her legs clamping around his head.

As she came down, she realized she had him trapped, and relaxed her legs quickly. "Spike…I'm so sorry. I forgot, that you breathe now. I tried to remember, but I'm so used to…"

Spike moved back up quickly, kissing her lightly to silence her. "You didn't smother me, Buffy. Didn't even come close. And hell, if you had—what a way to go."

Buffy tried to slap his shoulder, though the effects of the bone-melting orgasm he'd just given her made it a weak attempt. "Freak."

Spike licked his lips. "Not my fault you taste like ambrosia."

"I think you're exaggerating a bit there, mister."

"Nope. Not one bit. You're my own personal little honey pot." He curled his tongue behind his teeth to emphasize his words.

"You are such a pig." Buffy rolled her eyes as she spoke, but then her expression turned to a grin. "But I like it."

"I always knew you did." He rolled over on his back. "C'mere, baby. Wanna watch that hair of yours bounce while you ride me."

"You and my hair," Buffy replied as she moved to do what he said. She slowly sank down on his length, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly for support.

Spike's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt her encase him in her velvet heat. When he felt that she wasn't moving, he looked up into her eyes and took hold of her hips. "You waiting for something?"

"You."

"I'm more than ready, luv," he said huskily. He started to slide her up and down with the grip he had on her hips, watching Buffy as her head fell slightly backwards, biting her lip as she whimpered. She soon started to move on her own, the pace faster than the one Spike had set. "That's it, kitten. Ride me. Make it feel good."

Buffy pulled her head up, her eyes locking with his. She added a twist to each downward thrust, remembering the way he liked it. Spike groaned her name, one hand moving from her hip to tangle in her hair. He pulled her closer, kissing her as she kept her hips moving in a steady rhythm. "Just like that, baby," he panted as he broke away.

Buffy stayed close to him until the pressure building inside her was too much, and she had to sit up again, grinding her hips harder against his is a desperate search for more friction. Seeing how close she was, Spike moved his hand from her hair to her clit, moving his thumb over it in a blur. He felt her internal muscles clamp around him as she spasmed, her rhythm broken when her orgasm tore through her. As Buffy began to slump forward on his chest, Spike rolled them over, pumping into her as he found his own pleasure.

He remained conscious this time, only moving to rest his head against Buffy's breast. She ran her fingers through her hair, mussing up the curls even further than they already had been. "I love your hair, too, you know," she said after a moment.

Spike glanced up from his position on her chest. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's so soft. And I like playing with the little curls."

Spike snorted. "Those curls are a pain in my arse."

"But if you fix them right, they're damn sexy."

"Whatever you say, kitten." He rolled over with her, her head now resting on his chest. After a moment, he asked, "Are you getting tired, or…"

"Just give me a minute, and I'll be good to go." She looked up at him. "Unless you can't keep up with me anymore."

"Oh, you are not getting away with that, missy," Spike said, pushing her on her back again. "I'll show you who can't keep up." He pounced, and Buffy squealed even as she pulled him closer.

*** *** ***
There it is folks—the chapter that you've been waiting for. (Not that the story's over quite yet, however…) Still, thank you to the people who were willing to be patient and wait for me to move at my own pace when it came to getting Spike and Buffy "together." It was greatly appreciated, and it kept me from just throwing my hands up in frustration and saying "screw it" in face of some of the reviews I was getting.

Review please, let me know what you thought of this chapter.





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