This is bad, Buffy thought. The house siding jabbed painfully into her back and her thigh was cramping. Her ribs hurt and she had a stiff neck. And she didn’t care. That was the bad part.

Spike was on his knees in front of her, holding her left leg over his shoulder. His mouth…oh, his mouth was doing such things. His fingers plundered her, seeking and probing until her found the soft ribbed flesh he was looking for. Rhythmically he stroked his fingers inside her, and licked her over and over. He worked his tongue against her, making her arch against his face.

He felt her warm flesh flutter and tighten around his fingers. She’s close, he realized smugly. He stood up abruptly, and her eyes flew open in shock.

“Spike? What? No!”

He kissed her mouth, and pressed his denim covered hardness against her naked mound. Her jeans were stuck somewhere around her knees, but the rest of her clothing remained intact. And on her. He broke the kiss, but locked eyes with her.

His fingers drifted between her legs. Buffy stared into his eyes as he massaged the hood of her clit. “Thought I wasn’t finishing the job, Slayer? Thought I would leave you…needing?” Fingers entered her, stroked her again and again, while his thumb never lost its rhythm.

Buffy’s hands dug into his shoulders. “Please, I need…”

“Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me!” His fingers quickened. Her walls fluttered, squeezed against him. Her eyelids drifted shut and he snarled, “Look at me, damn it, and tell me what you need.”

Buffy didn’t know what she was supposed to answer anymore. Her limbs tingled, and her head spun. Her gaze fell on his beautiful lower lip and she blurted, “Your mouth. Get on your knees; I need your mouth on me.”

Almost before she’d finished speaking he dropped down and lapped at her. His thumb pressed against the ring of muscle at her body’s opening, stretching her. He licked her clit over and over, until her leg around his neck nearly took his head off. He kept lapping at her, drawing out her orgasm to the fullest, reveling in the aftershocks squeezing his thumb.

He carefully twisted out from under her leg, and stood up. She was a mess. Face flushed. Panting. Sweat dripping down her neck. Spike wouldn’t change a thing.

Buffy opened her eyes and looked around. The backyard was still there, and the house was still standing. Both good things. She felt something pinching behind her knees and realized her jeans were bunched up down there. Hastily, she tried to yank them back up, but her panties had somehow rolled up and… this was impossible. Annoyed, she ripped the offending panties off her own body-

“Now, there’s a change of pace,” Spike said. “Usually, that’s my job.” He stood calmly, smoking.

“Shut up,” she said easily. “And come over here, before I fall and wake everyone up.”

He moved closer and she steadied herself on his shoulder while she adjusted her clothing. When she was satisfied, she glanced up, and her mouth went dry. She was used to seeing him leer, or ogle, or whatever she wanted to call it. But this-she had never seen him look at her like,…like, he was so hungry! Blue eyes burned into her and she felt suddenly shy. Silly, she knew, especially after what they had just done. But she had revealed herself to him tonight, told him that she cared.

About a vampire with no soul, her mind supplied unhelpfully.

“Slayer, that was…” Spike considered, and shook his head. He had no clever words this time.

“Yeah,” she said softly. She looked down at her sneakers. “I should probably…” She motioned at the house. “I…I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Will you?” he asked. His hands drifted to her waist; just holding her lightly. He cocked his head to one side.

Buffy hesitated. “Maybe we could-” At his widening grin she stopped. Gave him a look. “I was going to say ‘train.’”

“That, too,” Spike agreed. He looked at her expectantly.

“What?”

He gave her an innocent look. “Just waiting for my kiss.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You’re the guy, that’s your job,” she informed him.

“Oh, I think I did all the work tonight. ‘S your turn to put out a little.”

She giggled.

Spike sobered. “Been a long time since I heard that sound, love.”

Her smile faded some. “I know.” Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. She held his jaw as her mouth moved over his. He caught her hands and held them, locking his fingers in hers.

“Um, Buffy?”

Buffy opened her eyes and pulled back. “Did you just hear something?” she whispered.

Spike turned his head then groaned. “Bloody hell.

“I’m sorry to, uh, interrupt, really I am,” Willow said from the porch, “it’s just that, uh, if you want to keep…with Spike…he should probably get inside somewhere before he, you know, combusts. It’s almost sunrise and shine time.”

Buffy and Spike both stared at her.

Willow bit her lip. “Yeah, so. My window? It’s kinda, right up there.” She pointed. Straight up. The redhead seemed to gather herself for she said, “Spike, it’s been, uh, nice, but I’m tired and I need to go to sleep now. Again! I mean. Because, I was. Asleep. The whole time.” She turned and went back in the kitchen door.

Before Buffy could say a word, Spike pressed the front of his body against hers. His mouth descended and he kissed her. When he raised his head, her legs felt like rubber.

He took a step backward and shoved his hands deep in the pockets of the duster. “Right. Til later, then.” His gaze smoked her for a long moment then he turned in a swirl of black leather and took off for his crypt.

Buffy glanced up at the lightening sky. “Shit.”

XXX

Bright green mist drifted as pockets in the air. Buffy looked around, but she didn’t see anyone else. Just her and this…poison… hanging in the air. She clamped a hand over her mouth and tried to breathe as shallowly as possible. That’s why they’re all gone, she knew. Everybody’s dead.

She didn’t know where she was, so she started walking. The streets were deserted except for the cars parked haphazardly along the curbs- most of them with doors hanging open and alarms blaring.

If I can just get to the beach, she thought, I’ll make it. But I can’t get there from here.

More pockets of green gas appeared from nowhere. Pretty soon, even she wouldn’t be safe. She felt the danger coming for her… to her.

Buffy started running. “I don’t want to BE here,” she shouted in frustration. Between one footfall and the next, the asphalt morphed into sand.

“Great.” She blew out a sigh of relief. Suddenly barefoot, she walked into the water. Her eyes closed and she took a deep lungful of salty air. Then she coughed. Her airway squeezed shut, and from far away she heard whistling. Black spots appeared in her vision and she stumbled drunkenly. Water splashed against her knees as she fell. Her hands saved her from a face first tumble. Her fingers dug into the earth, as she desperately fought for air.

This isn’t right, she thought crazily. It’s not how it’s supposed to happen.

The tide pulled out sharply, and Buffy knew what came next. It didn’t matter. She was dead anyway. Somehow she crawled towards the water. She tried to inhale, needed to hold her breath, but it was useless. The wave crashed into her, rolling her body backwards, and buffeting her with its strength.

Her trachea relaxed and water poured into her lungs. She inhaled it easily, relieved to finally have enough oxygen. A shaft of light lit up the water in front of her. Millions of plankton floated and danced, clouding the sunbeam. A shark swam by, ignoring her presence. She looked up toward the surface, toward the poisoned air, and knew she was the last.

Her eyes flew open, and she looked at the clock on her table. Only forty minutes had passed since laying down. She settled back into her bed, turning onto her side. So tired, she thought. Then she slept.

XXX

Spike hadn’t been to bed yet. He sat back in his chair, thinking. He’d spent most of the last day with the Slayer. They’d shagged a couple of times, and she’d only thrown one punch at him. Rather halfheartedly, in his opinion. He shook his head, smiling. Couldn’t believe that girl, sometimes. Acted all shy and retiring and then demanded he get on his knees and…Not that he minded. THAT was a pleasure, no doubt about it. Her complexity was part, a good part of her appeal.

Now, the situation with Red might be a problem. Spike didn’t care who knew about Buffy and him. Unfortunately, she did. He hoped that Red was taking it easy on the Slayer and not going all high and mighty. Well, he thought huffily, it’s not like the witch had any room to throw stones.

Still. Those friends of hers could be less than thoughtful at times, and Spike had an idea that the Slayer felt pretty vulnerable about now. At least, he mused, it hadn’t been Harris to stumble upon them. Small favors and dumb luck. Apparently, it’d never occurred to Buffy that Willow might sleep with her window open. Spike took a deep drag off the cigarette, knocking the long cylinder of ash onto the floor. He grinned to himself. Maybe after demolishing a house together, the thought of sex in the great outdoors didn’t faze the Slayer one bit.

Buffy. He’d never imagined…hell, who was he kidding? He’d always imagined that she was as passionate and ferocious a lover as she was a Slayer. He’d just never seriously thought that she would…

What exactly? Stoop to his level? Acknowledge his existence? Spike flicked the cigarette away, sending up crimson sparks from the floor. How dare she throw the souled wonder in his face!

Had to make it clear I’m the consolation gift. Take a years’ supply of Turtle Wax while you’re at it, Slayer.

He paced around the crypt for a long while, before his mood calmed down enough for him to think logically again. Things were different, now. The Slayer had admitted that, finally. When she’d showed up here yesterday, she’d said…what was it? Right. She’d admitted she felt something for him. But her whispered words had touched him the most.

“You’re not convenient, Spike,” she’d told him.

“All lies,” he said, in wonder. Everything she said that morning was a lie. How had he missed it? Too caught up in the magic of the moment, he thought caustically. Throwing two dead Slayers in her face, yeah, that was a bloody brilliant idea, Spike.

But she’d come back anyway. What did it all mean? Maybe it didn’t mean anything, he decided. But now, one of her friends had found out her dirty little secret and that changed things even more. Because, what one knew, they all knew.

He could just imagine them gathering around somewhere to discuss Buffy’s recent choice in men and making her feel like shit about it. And he had no trouble imagining the resulting scenario-the one where Buffy showed up here and then told him this was all a mistake, had to stop, never again, degrading, disgusting….

Thing was, Buffy’d already sung that tune. He snorted. Good thing he knew all the words. He stepped onto the ladder and headed downstairs. Hopefully, he could get some sleep-let me rest in peace, let me get some sleep-the words popped up in his brain and he shook his head, irritated. It had taken him weeks to get that bloody song out of his mind, and here it was back again. This was gonna be a long day.

XXX

Buffy had just finished getting dressed when the knock came on her door. She opened it and saw Willow standing in the hall looking uncertain.

“Hi.” Willow said.

“Hey. Come in,” Buffy said, stepping aside to let the redhead enter.

The girls sat down on the bed. Neither felt sure of where to start or what to say.

After a long silence, Buffy began, “You’re here to ask me about last night.”

“Well, not in an interrogation sort of way, but more like a ‘wow I had no idea my friend was involved in something really…”

“Yeah, it’s really. Will, I don’t even know where to begin.”

The redhead smiled. “Just start at the very beginning, a very good place to start,” she singsonged.

“Okay.” Buffy took a deep breath. “One of the nights that the whole town was singing and dancing? I had to go see Spike. See if he had any information about what was going on. He…he sang to me.” Buffy met her friend’s gaze then looked away. “He sang about…how he felt that I treat him like a dead thing, and how he feels alive when he’s with me.” She closed her eyes briefly. If she concentrated, she could still hear his song in her mind. He’d kneeled in front of her then, too. “He wanted me to, to leave him alone so he could bury his love for me.” In a hole, six feet deep, she mentally added. “We…he…he sang that even though his heart was breaking, I didn’t care.”

“Wow,” Willow said, raising a brow.

Buffy snorted. “Oh, it gets better. After he saved me from the demon, remember when he left the uh, big group sing? I followed him out into the street.” She got up and paced the room. “I was just trying to make him understand how I felt,” she said. “Then all of the sudden I’m singing to him and he’s answering me back, in song, and then…” She sat back down on the edge of the bed.

Buffy stared off into space, and Willow touched her hand. “Then what?”

The Slayer smiled a little. “I kissed him.”

“No, you didn’t!” Willow squealed.

Buffy grinned. Now that sounded like Willow of old. “I couldn’t help it. Trust me on this.” She shivered slightly, thinking about it.

Willow stared at her. “You care about him.”

Buffy chewed on her lower lip. “No one is more surprised about this than me. He…he’s just been so different since I…got back.” She paused. “No. I’m different. I…we…there’s just this connection. And whatever I need…” She smiled. “He’d try and get it for me. Even if I didn’t know I needed it.”

“So, you’re sure about this, Buffy?”

“God, no!” she exclaimed. “I never said all that.” She hesitated and then said, “I keep having all these dreams, Will. And I’m not a psychiatrist, and I don’t know that much about…anything really. But I think part of me is trying to say that what I think is wrong is right and what I think is right, really isn’t. Does that make sense?”

Willow looked mystified. “Not to me. But Buffy, dreams are personal. It’s what it means to you that’s important. Have you been dreaming about …wait a second. So that’s why you were asking about dream interpretation. You think those dreams have to do with your feelings for Spike.”

“Well…kinda. I mean, I was fighting it for so long-”

“What! How long?”

“And then I just couldn’t help myself and it was…” Buffy sighed. “It was good, Willow.” She met her friend’s eyes. “It was so good.” Her fingers plucked at the blanket. “It was after…you know…that I had the first dream. And once I stopped being so scared of drowning and just breathed the water, everything felt so …peaceful. And that’s…that’s what it’s like, sometimes, with Spike.” She had to struggle against the lump in her throat to get the words out. She half laughed. “Of course, sometimes he pisses me off so much I can hardly see straight so, there you go.”

Willow looked sympathetic. “Buffy, for what it’s worth, I just want you to be happy. Knowing what you lost…” her gaze fell. “What I did to you… I just want you to be happy. And I’m sorry that everything got all…screwed up.” Tears filled her eyes and she said, “I’m sorry that I…made things harder for you after you came back.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Will. Every day…it’s hard. But it’s getting easier.” Buffy leaned over and hugged her.

Willow drew back and wiped her eyes. “I think you should tell the others, though.” At Buffy’s look, she added, “You shouldn’t have to sneak around. We’re not sixteen anymore. You’re an adult. Let’s face it, Spike doesn’t have a soul to lose, and…and I just don’t think he’s like that. Even if he got the chip out, I don’t think he’d try and hurt us.”

Buffy kept her face carefully blank. “Well, the chip still works on humans, so that’s a non issue, thank God.” She stretched. “Xander…”

“Will come around.”

“Giles?”

Willow cocked her head. “He’ll be pissed. Maybe. For awhile there…”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, I heard him say once, ‘If they don’t kill each other, I just might help them out,’ or something like that. And Spike was very good to Giles when…you know.”

Buffy looked wry. “When we were engaged, you mean? Yeah, he was all about being the perfect boyfriend, wasn’t he?” She snorted. “I can’t believe Spike hasn’t told everyone already. I mean, I did threaten to stake him if he said anything, but that’s never stopped him in the past.”

Willow shrugged. “He fought beside us all summer, Buffy. You were gone. There was no one to impress. Besides, after you…jumped off the tower, Spike was just…I want to say ‘dead inside’ but since he’s already sort of-”

“He’s not though,” Buffy interrupted. “God, this is weird.”

“Yeah,” Willow grinned. “Like old times.”

Buffy laughed. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Listen, I want to tell everyone and I will, but I just want a little more time. Like I need to have this private place carved out that I can hold onto you know?”

Willow had a wistful look. “I’ve felt that way before. Tara,” she added at Buffy’s questioning look.

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said and meant it.

The redhead got up and said, “Just one more thing. Maybe, you should tell Dawn before you tell the others. I think she’d want to know. She and Spike got really tight over the summer. He hung out with her all the time. He really wanted to keep his promise, he used to say.”

“Oh, Dawn,” Buffy groaned. “What am I supposed to tell her? I’m sleeping with Spike and I’m pretty sure that he won’t kill you or anyone else I love?”

“You’re sleeping with Spike?” Willow squeaked.

XXX

He was dreaming of her. It had to be a dream. In real life she would never kiss him so tenderly, never run her thumb over his lower lip so all he felt was a wisp of sensation. He kept his eyes closed and returned the kiss. It had been years since he’d had a dream this vivid. The scent of her, tangy and fruity, rose up all around him coating his skin until all he could sense was her. Her scent, her skin, her lips…no, this must be a dream. Only in his dreams, did she lay her head down on his chest and simply be.

Spike slid without protest into deeper sleep.

The next time the feathery caresses brushed his lower lip, he made himself open his lids, just to prove that this wonderful delusion was just that-a delusion.

He jumped. The object of his affections had straddled his groin, and was leaning over him, staring directly into his eyes. “Buffy,” he breathed.

“Alive and in the flesh,” she answered softly.

“What are you doing here?” Watching me sleep again? Twice in two days…must be some sort of record. Either that or she’s about to give me the bloody send off.

She bit her lower lip and looked down. “Nothing, I just…” Her fingers traced light circles over his chest.

Spike caught her hands with his and stilled them. “What, love?”

Buffy’s mouth tightened. Then she looked toward the ceiling and rolled her eyes. “It’s stupid. I…just wanted to see you.”

He blinked. “Oh,” he said, surprised at her honesty.

“Look,” she said. “If you want to sleep for a little while longer that’s fine. I’m gonna…” She shifted her weight as if she was contemplating climbing off of him.

He slid his hands up and squeezed both of her upper arms. “Didn’t mean to sound so unappreciative, Slayer.” With a blurred motion, he had her pinned next to him. He stared into her stormy eyes. “Matter of fact, I’ve never woken up so nicely. Except for…” Yesterday. “A man could get used to it.” He waited for the stinging retort that she was sure to issue. But she gave him only a small smile. He saw her hand raise up and instinctively stilled, waiting for the blow. From the looks, probably gonna be a cross that would land on… his…cheek…what the fuck? Tucking a lock of hair behind his ear?

Her face froze. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“What way?”

“Like I’m some freak or something. God. Spike, I’m…sleeping with you. Why shouldn’t I-” She stopped abruptly, as if she’d said too much.

“Tell me,” he said husky tones.

Her eyes dropped to his neck and only his heightened hearing allowed him to interpret her mutter. “Why can’t I act like it?” She cleared her throat. “Is this just about sex for you? Bagging the slayer, like some notch or something, some prize?”

Spike looked at her, disbelieving. “Is this your idea of a joke, Buffy?” He pulled her arm away from his neck. “If I was a different man…” His jaw set, and he threw back the covers. He reached for his clothes and pulled them on with jerky movements. “How dare you!” His voice shook with fury, and he felt his face contorting, sliding for a moment into the demonic visage. He curled his lips and focused. Forced the demon down.

With all of his speed, he circled the bed, and jerked Buffy out of it. He held her arms just above the elbows. “What game are you playing at, Slayer? Taunt the lovesick vampire, just because you can?”

“That’s not what I-”

“Stuff it!” He lowered his face until their noses were nearly touching. “How many times am I supposed to tell you that I love you, and let you throw it back at me like it means nothing? This your new angle, pretend like you care? Oh, I haven’t forgotten your pretty words, ‘You’re not convenient, Spike,’” he mimicked in a falsetto.

“I’m not pretending.” Buffy said through gritted teeth. “Why are you acting like this? Do you even hear what I’m telling you?”

He let go of her so abruptly that she stumbled and nearly fell onto the bed.

“This is getting old, Slayer, and I’m sick of it. Just…” He shook his head and turned away. “Just go home to your sister and friends who can’t live without you. I’m not even alive to you…just stay away from me, Buffy.” His voice was flat. Final.

“Do I get to have my say now, you idiot? Because I pretty much think I’m due.” She grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around roughly.

“Hurry up, Slayer. Like I said. This is getting old.”

“Fuck you.” She announced, and watched his eyes widen. “Please. Enlighten me. You go on and on about what an animal I am, how good in bed, whatever. Have you ever said one reason about caring about me, Buffy? No. All I get is ‘The only thing better than killing a Slayer.’ And I get that you say you love me, and maybe I even believe you. So tell me how come all we ever do is fuck?”

“Unbelievable. The reason why we only fuck,” he said coldly, “is because that’s how you like it. Ever since we kissed behind the Bronze, you made it perfectly clear that I was only good for one purpose.” He snorted. “Make that two. Can’t discount demon hunting with the gang, now can I?” Buffy simply stared at him, so he went on. “Calling me a thing,” he spat. “Convenient.”

“You know I didn’t mean that,” she whispered. “The only reason I said that was because…I wanted to hurt you.”

“Congratulations,” Spike sneered. “It worked. That made you happy, I’m sure.”

“Do I look thrilled, Spike? Anyway, if you hadn’t-” He still didn’t understand, Buffy thought. “I can’t even believe we’re fighting because I want to-”

“It’s called finishing a sentence, Buffy. Look into it.”

“Because I want it to be real,” she shouted. “Why is it,” she continued in a much quieter voice, “that I can only touch you if it’s about sex?”

He stared at her blankly. “What?”

“I mean…don’t you want to…” She swallowed over the rising lump in her throat, and blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “I don’t know…Sometimes I want to do this,” she said, stepping towards him. She hesitantly reached out, touched his shoulder lightly. His blue eyes stayed locked on hers. “And sometimes, I feel like…” Her fingers rose to play with the stray curl just behind his left ear. She shifted closer to him. “But mostly,” she said, “what I really like to do is…” Her thumb brushed across his lower lip.

“I need you,” she said baldly. “And I’m not talking about scratching an itch, as you put it. And I’m sorry that I haven’t told you before now, especially…especially since I know how much you needed to hear that. And could you please say something?”

“What part of ‘Willing Slave’ didn’t you get, Buffy?” His voice was gentle, in spite of the barb.

“Spike, I have to tell you something.”

He waited.

“What you said, the morning after we first…The Slayer thing? It really hurt me.” Why was it, she wondered, that it was always so hard to say those words. To tell someone the depth of the wound they’ve created.

His eyes widened. “No, love, you don’t understand. I told you, what, over a year ago, when the best night of my life was. He lowered his head. “I was trying to tell you that you were the best night of my pathetic life. Wasn’t supposed to be…It wasn’t supposed to hurt you.” He touched her hair.

“I told Willow about us,” Buffy said.

His hand stilled. “Are we an ‘us’ now?”

She blinked. “I am still standing here, right?”

A glimmer of a smile lingered on his face. “Right. Then it’s within bounds to do this.” His eyes never left hers as he lowered his head and kissed her. He put all of his emotion into it, making love to her mouth.

She was nearly panting by the time he pulled away. “That was…wow.” She paused, tried to form a coherent thought.

“You never answered my question,” Spike told her.

Buffy frowned. “Which one?”

He rolled his eyes. “Are we an ‘us’? You told Willow what exactly?”

She sat down on the bed, and tugged on Spike’s hand until he came down next to her. “I told her that we’ve been…involved since the big sing along. I told her that I…care about you-”

“You told Will that?” If she was telling her friends then she must be telling the truth. Spike couldn’t imagine her setting herself up for the Scooby backlash on a whim.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m gonna tell Dawn next. I think she’d want to know.”

“I miss her.” At Buffy’s questioning look, he glared and said, “Oh, that’s right. I forgot that my watching her all last summer was about getting into your pants.” His expression darkened as he remembered exactly where she’d been last summer. “After you…jumped…Dawn was the only one who…” Cared, even a little. Sometimes he looked at Buffy and still couldn’t believe that she was back. Alive and mostly well.

Buffy’s back was starting to ache so she lay back against the soft mattress. In a moment, Spike relaxed next to her. She shifted over until their bodies touched. She slipped an arm around his waist. She pressed her face into his chest. He rested his chin against her head, and inhaled her scent. Fruity and tangy, all at the same time. Delicious.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, love?”

“You told me once that you could be good.” It was a statement.

He stiffened. “And you said I was evil.”

“Which one of us was right?” A long pause. “Do you really think you can?”

“What’s the worst thing I’ve done lately,” he asked dryly. “Usually has to do with you anyway. So tell me. Am I evil?”

“I could never love someone who was evil,” she told him.

The shaft of pain was familiar at least, and not unexpected. Well, how many different ways had she said it already? I’ll never love you, Spike…The only chance you had with me was when…It could never be you…You’re just convenient…She was speaking again, and he shook his head, because that-she must have misspoken. He thought that she’d just said-

“Mind repeatin’ that Slayer?”

“I said no, Spike. I don’t think you’re evil.”

Part 6:

“What are you doing here?” Dawn was surprised to see her sister waiting for her outside Sunnydale H.S.

Buffy shrugged. “Do I need a reason? I’m being all sisterly, here.” She paused and took Dawn’s backpack and slung it easily over one shoulder. “C’mon. I need to talk to you.”

The younger girl frowned. “I didn’t do it, I swear.”

The girls started off down the sidewalk. It was a short walk back to the Summers’ house, a mere four blocks. Dawn often wondered how Buffy had ever made it to school on time to the old school. She was glad that they’d moved the new and improved version closer to home. More sleepy time this way.

“I know you’ve been…I know I’ve been spending a lot of time away from home lately,” Buffy began.

Dawn shot her a sideways glance. “Yeah, well, I guess what with you recovering from death and heaven, and all…I know you have a lot on your mind.”

Buffy grimaced. “I’m not exactly sure how to say this, Dawn.” Her sister looked worried so Buffy added hastily, “It’s nothing bad…at least…I don’t think…It’s not. Nothing bad.”

“Uh-huh.” Dawn sounded skeptical.

“When I was gone…what was it like? With Spike,” she clarified. “What was Spike like when I was gone?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Look, I just do, okay?” Her voice sounded strained, thin. “Dawn, I need to know.”

The teen took a deep slow breath. Buffy had no idea the wounds she was reopening. “It was…different. Everything was…scary. We knew that with no Slayer on the Hellmouth, we were all in danger.” She paused then added. “Especially me.” She kept her eyes straight ahead as she walked, purposefully avoiding her sisters gaze. “Spike…he said he promised you that he’d take care of me.”

Dawn had to stop for a few minutes. It was too close. What if Buffy hadn’t come back? What would have happened to her? To them all? “A lot of times, we-Spike and me-we didn’t do anything special. He taught me how to play rummy.” She smiled a little. “He cheats, did you know that?”

Buffy’s lips twitched. “Yes,” she said softly. “I did know that.”

“Sometimes, he’d take me for ice cream. Stupid stuff. Sometimes, Willow and Xander would drop me off at his crypt and we’d hang out there. He was…”

“What?” Buffy prodded gently.

“He was quiet. He was different. He was…” She looked over at her sister. “He was…broken…after you died. He just…I don’t know. Sometimes I felt like I was the only…the only thing he had to hang onto, you know? Like if I wasn’t there, he just would have disappeared. Or watched the sunrise one morning.” Dawn stopped. “Buffy. What is this about, really?”

The Slayer looked troubled. “I…we…I’ve been…Spike…” She rolled her eyes in disgust and then blurted, “I’ve been seeing Spike.”

“Well, duh. I see him too.”

“I’m…sort of dating him.” She had told Willow of course of her relationship with the vampire, but the words felt odd coming out of her mouth.

Dawn snorted. “Took you long enough, dumbass.”

“Excuse me?”

Dawn looked incredulous. “Buff. He is so in love with you. You know this. And…you’ve been spending a lot of time with him since you…got back.”

Buffy glanced down at the sidewalk. “I guess. When just being here hurt…I could be with Spike and it wasn’t so bad.” She laughed hoarsely. “I told him once that I could still be alone with him.”

“Mmm-hmm. Dating, huh? I’ll bet he kisses really good.”

“You have no idea,” Buffy said without thinking, then covered her mouth in horror.

Her little sister erupted into giggles. “Ha! I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Buffy asked archly. “That he kisses like an expert?” Among other things…

The girls arrived at their house. They climbed the porch steps, then Buffy turned her key in the front door. “Willow has late classes today. She said she’s gonna try and make up some study time tonight from when she had to miss a few days…” She trailed off as she noticed the expression on Dawn’s face.

“Huh. I had to miss school too. And I have a broken arm!” Dawn snorted. “Ooh, poor Willow.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.

“Enough,” Buffy told her. “She’s trying, Dawn. She really is.” The Slayer dropped the backpack onto the floor by the coffee table in the living room. “What do you want for dinner, key girl?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn had wanted steak. Buffy fixed frozen pizza instead. It was the first time the two girls had eaten dinner together in…well, too long, Buffy decided. Willow had arrived back at the house around eight, guzzled two glasses of water, then went up to her room.

Mom’s room, Buffy still thought sometimes. It was just too weird to say ‘Willow’s Bedroom,’ and be talking about where her mother had slept. Buffy carefully dried the plates she had Dawn had used. She had to be careful-the robo-Buffy had broken a bunch of flatware and now there wasn’t very much left. Just add it to the list of stuff that had to be done, bought and fixed, Buffy thought bitterly.

Replacing the plates in the cabinet, she surveyed the kitchen. The dinner mess had been repaired. The counters gleamed under the light and for just a moment, Buffy let herself imagine that her mother was watching TV in the other room.

God, she missed her mother.

Apparently, death had not lessened her grief any. Strange. Been almost a year, and still…it seemed like yesterday.

She missed her mother.

Buffy wiped roughly at her eyes with her sleeve. If she started crying, she didn’t think she could stop. She went out the back door, letting it slam behind her. The air was mild, and the night clear. She stared up at the stars until her neck ached. Eventually she had to lower her head and she sat down on the back porch. She crossed her legs, and rested her elbow on her thigh, cradling her chin in her palm.

She closed her eyes. The periods of numbness were becoming more and more infrequent. Buffy found that she almost missed the numbness. It was better than the dull ache that filled her most of the time.

“I touch the fire, and it freezes me,” she sang under her breath. The words fell away into the night air. She had not forgotten any of the lyrics that she had sung, that night, last month. If she concentrated she could remember the music, could remember how her words had melted into one glorious mountain of harmony. But the last time she had uttered those lryics, it had been part of a duet. The music that still played in her mind ( for the spell had never really ended, as far as she was concerned, since she could burst into pitch perfect song at any moment) reminded her that something lacked.

“I touch the fire and it freezes me…” She sighed, ready to go in, when she heard it.

“I died, so many years ago…”

The strong baritone drifted to her ears. Buffy opened her eyes. “Spike.”

Dressed in his uniform of black, his eyes burned into her. He stood there like a statue, beautiful in the starlight. His cheekbones where thrown into sharp relief and there was a shadow under his lower lip. His hair was slightly curly tonight-he had started wearing it like that.

“Miss me?” The thorough inspection had not escaped his notice.

Her steps were light as she went to him, barely making a sound on the wooden porch. She stopped in front of him, her body not quite touching his. The air hummed between them, as it had always done. In the past it had been charged by hate, or anger…or an emotion unutterable. Now…now…

“I look into it, and it’s black,” she whispered to him. He didn’t move; just stared down at her. She leaned close, cupping his jaw with her palm. Her thumb brushed across his lower lip, and his eyes drifted shut. She felt his hands at the small of her back. “This thing is real, and you can make me feel…”

His eyes flew open. “Those aren’t the words,” he said slowly

“They are now.” She flicked her tongue over his lip, then bit it a little. “And you missed your cue.”

Spike tightened his arms around her and bent her nearly backwards with his kiss. Her hands threaded through his hair, catching in the thick curls. The world faded away. There was only Spike, keeping her from falling backwards onto the ground, making her blood burn. His scent surrounded her, and she reveled in it. She slid her hands down to his shoulders, pulling him still closer.

He growled deep in his throat, and pulled his mouth away. He leaned his forehead against hers and took an unnecessary breath. “I want you,” he said. He slid one leg between her thighs, pressing his erection into her.

She forced her hand down between their bodies, and massaged the straining bulge. She loved the way he fit in her hand. She wanted to hold him, squeeze him… Her fingers nimbly worked at his jeans, unbuttoning them and freeing his stiff length.

Buffy stared into his eyes as she played with him. She rubbed her fingers against the heavy sac, massaging it. Then she slid her thumb across the tip, over and over, spreading the drop of moisture that leaked there. She used it as lubrication now, and pumped her hand up and down.

“Buffy…” the word was forced from him. He sounded drugged. His pupils were wide and dark, nearly obliterating the clear blue of his eyes. Her eyes never left his as she worked him. His hips were moving now, catching the rhythm of her movements.

“God, Spike…I am so wet right now.” Her voice was thick with arousal, and she wanted nothing more at that moment than to rip her clothes off and mount him.

He grabbed her hand, and held it still upon him. “This way.” He drew them deeper into the backyard, behind the picnic table. There was no moon out tonight, and they could not be seen from the house. “Alright. Now,” and with one sharp motion, her pants were in shreds, falling from her thighs.

Buffy felt a tugging around her hips, then heard something rip. Spike tucked her thong into his back pocket. He made to lift her up, but she shook a finger at him, and went to her knees, instead.

Her hands returned to his thick length, stroking the pulsing shaft. She tilted his cock up, and leaned down, taking the head into her mouth. She sucked gently, letting her tongue rub against the sensitive underside. With her every pull of her mouth, she licked the underside, squeezing the base at the same time.

“Buffy, my god.” He could barely speak. He never wanted this to end, it felt so good.

She stiffened her tongue, rolling it over and over the tip, then easily took him deep. With her left hand she stroked his balls, massaging them. She let her mouth linger over the head, lapping at it, while she increased the speed and pressure of her handjob.

Spike couldn’t take his eyes off what she was doing. Her mouth was so wet, so hot…She was so hot… His balls tightened, and he knew he was lost. “Buffy,” he said warningly, but she glanced up at him and then swallowed every drop.

When he could think again, and he could only imagine that a few minutes had passed, he pulled them both to the ground. Her feminine wetness and warmth pressed into his groin. She was so ready, so turned on. That heat was for him, Buffy wanted him…

He saw the need in her face, the desire. He slid his hand under her shirt and found her breasts. They were small and firm, the nipples very hard. Very hard and very sensitive, he knew. He bent at the waist and twisted his head, suckling through the thin cotton of her shirt. She yanked it impatiently over her head, then guided his mouth back to her.

Obligingly, he flicked his tongue over the stiff peaks, until he felt her hand disappear between her legs. “Ah-ah, love. No fair, that.” One blurred movement later, he had her straddling his face. He growled again, possessive, this time.

He used every technique he had ever learned about women, especially his woman. She was so slick her moisture glistened along the inner surface of her thighs, very near her center. He fucked her with his fingers, loving the mewls and gasps she offered him. He knew what she really needed, though, so he separated her folds and found the tiny hood. She loved this best of all. He lapped at her favorite spot until she rocked against his face, wanting him closer still. Spike held back nothing, working his tongue on her and making his fingers slip rhythmically in and out.

She grabbed his head as she came, nearly tearing it off his head in the process. He stroked her with the length of his tongue, and she shuddered, convulsing around him again.

When her quakes finally ceased, she gingerly-everything hurt!-backed down his body and collapsed on top of him.

He cupped his hand around the back of her head, tucking her face into his shoulder. He was lying naked in the grass in Buffy’s backyard. Any one of the little super friends, or hell, even the Nibblet could come across them.

He couldn’t have cared less.