GIVING IN
By Sauscony

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz
Rating: R for a couple of rude words
Spoilers: Smashed, possibly Wrecked but I haven't seen it yet.
Summary: Buffy's all out of energy to fight the attraction that is Spike.
Author's Note: Confession time - I'm not actually a B/S shipper. But I think they both need this now. My take on the current situation.
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended.

Buffy Summers was sitting on freshly mown grass, the sun beating on back, talking to her mother.

Joyce wasn't there of course, not really, but Buffy was more familiar with cemeteries than any other place and all things considered this seemed like the right spot for the conversation.

"Mom, I don't know what to do. Giles…" Her voice faltered for a moment. "He left me, Mom. He said it was the right thing to do. Mr Super Watcher actually left me. He said I had to learn to stand on my own feet."

She brushed a hand across the carefully tended grass of her mother's grave. "But I'm not doing it very well, Mom. I'm screwing it up."

She laughed bitterly. "Screwing. That's an appropriate word. Mom, I had sex with Spike." There was a long silence, the quiet headstones and the wind brushing the treetops her only company. "I suppose it could have been worse. At least he didn't turn evil afterwards like Angel did. Of course, as he's so keen to tell me, he was evil already, so maybe that doesn't count."

Buffy stood up, walked around the grave and finally sat down again, the abrupt movement not helping at all. "The thing is, Mom, it was great. Great, amazing sex without the usual accompanying heartbreak. And I'm terrified. He's the only one who makes me feel alive right now." She laughed again. "He's dead, and he makes me feel alive. And Mommy, I need that so very bad." She stood again, standing still beside Joyce Summer's carved headstone. "I wish you were really here to tell me what to do. But I guess Giles is right. I have to make my own decisions. Even if they're wrong."

She brushed a hand against the stone. "Thanks for listening, Mom."

And as she walked away, it was like the wind in the trees spoke to her.

Live, Buffy. Do whatever you need to do to live. Long and strong.

* * * * *

The crypt door opened and who should walk in but Miss Buffy I'm-too-good-for-you Summers? Spike wasn't sure if he should smirk or sigh. With Buffy these days it was difficult to know.

She'd enjoyed herself. He knew she had. So had he. Hell, it had been fucking amazing. Literally.

There were times all of them actually when having no conscience was a wonderful thing. Buffy's was working overtime right now, totally to his disadvantage. Because Goody Miss Two Shoes, for all she kept coming back to him, had decided this was bad, which led to the guilt, recriminations and insults.

He wondered if she was here to insult him this time, or if he'd get lucky and she'd fuck him first and get to the insults afterwards.

He didn't expect her to take a seat on the empty sarcophagus and pull a cross from her bag.

He stared in surprise. "What's this, Slayer?"

Buffy swallowed. "I want to have a conversation with you. And I don't want anyone's rampant hormones getting in the way."

Spike's lips pursed, but he nodded and sank back into his seat. "Okay, luv. What are we talking about?"

"You know I'm not in love with you, right?" she stated without further preamble.

"Oh, I don't know," Spike drawled. "You did a pretty good impression the other night."

Buffy flushed scarlet. "I'm in lust with you," she admitted. "But I'm not in love with you."

"It's a start," he conceded, unable to keep the smirk completely at bay.

She flushed again, but when she spoke, her voice was serious. "You make me feel like I'm alive. Right now, you're the only one who can do that, and I need it so very badly. To think there's something worth living for." She looked at him, a certain amount of disbelief on her face. "Even if it is you."

Spike considered being offended, but decided this wasn't the moment to stop her train of thought.

"I'm not in love with you," she repeated. "But I want you. I need you. And I'm tired of fighting it." She looked up at him, finally holding his gaze. "But if we carry on with this … this whatever it is, you have to promise me something. When I need it, when I'm ready, you have to let me go."

She almost laughed, short and self-depreciating. "I couldn't give you all of me if I wanted to. I don't have all of me. But I'm tired and I'm ready to give in. I'll give you my body and whatever warped emotion there is between us. That's all I've got to give."

"I love you, Buffy," he said simply.

"I know," she answered equally simply. "Insane, isn't it? William the Bloody and the Vampire Slayer." She shook her head. "My entire life is insane. Maybe I'm insane."

If she hadn't still been holding the cross, the lost look on her face would have made him go over and hug her. But he wasn't into pain or not that kind, anyway.

"You're not insane," he said instead. "I know insane. Remember Drusilla." He shook his head. "You're hurting, but you're not insane."

She did laugh, glaring at him at the same time. "When did you get so perceptive, Spike?"

"Natural talent," he answered airily. "Along with other things." This time he couldn't keep the leer at bay, and was relieved when she laughed instead of trying to stake him.

"Very talented," she conceded in a slightly choked voice. A moment later she was serious again. "Do you want me, Spike? On these broken terms. Because it's all I can offer."

"Any way I can, luv," he answered sincerely. "Any way at all."

She finally put the cross down. "Make me feel alive, Spike. Please."

He was across the crypt, pulling her into his arms before the of the sound last word had faded.

It looked like they were doing the whole honesty thing, so he took a second to ask about the one thing she hadn't addressed.

"What about your friends, Buffy? They're going to throw fits. Are we a secret romance?" He couldn't help the sarcasm in his voice, but he knew he'd stick by her answer. Besides, there was a lot of fun to be had in pulling the wool over the little Scoobies' eyes.

He was startled when she just laughed, then shrugged. "They pulled me out of heaven; they'll just have to deal with me sleeping with the devil."

His mouth was still hanging open when she kissed him.