The Spell of Tears

By: Alley Kitty

I iz owning da nothing! No suein' me pweez!

Spike seized Buffy, folding her into his embrace, and his fangs pierced her neck.

Blood.

Powerful Slayer blood.

Buffy blood.

It was like heaven. That small taste he had of the other Slayer was nothing compared to this. The other Slayer, Faith, was tainted with darkness. His Slayer was pure sunshine, burning him alive from the inside in the most delicious way.

His fangs sank deeper and Buffy gasped as he latched onto her throat as if for dear life, his arms holding her as close as he could, everything else forgotten as his world narrowed down to him, Buffy, and Slayer blood. The limp and lifeless bodies of her friends and family vanished from his mind.

Something hit his head and he whirled around, snarling, and Buffy dropped to the floor. The Watcher, trying to stay upright, stood with an unloaded crossbow in one hand, the bolts long gone from when the Whelp had gone on a desperate shooting spree.

The Watcher was determined to protect his charge.

Spike was determined to keep his prize.

The Watcher didn't last long. Barely alive, laying in a puddle of his own blood mixed with the blood of the others.

The vampire turned back to his prize.

And Buffy's lips met his.

The kiss was desperate, filled with grief and fear.

But it was Buffy.

Spike groaned at the feeling, opening his mouth to run his tongue across her lips. She tasted like tears, and blood. This, this with Buffy, was another level of heaven.

Suddenly, she twirled out of his embrace, folding back into a battle stance, leaving his gasping, confused, hungry.

Wanting more.

They gazed into one another's eyes. Buffy absentmindedly ran the back of her hand across her mouth, like she was trying to wipe away the sins she received from kissing him. She studied him closely, almost…expecting? Spike examined her back, tilting his head to the side.

Despite his calm exterior, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts racing around and trying to make sense. He felt like he had millions of mismatched puzzle pieces and he couldn't find any that fit together.

Maybe Drusilla wasn't coming back. Maybe killing the Slayer, killing that "sunshine", wouldn't bring his love back.

Maybe he was meant to dance with that sunshine.

Spike took a step closer and Buffy moved to attack.

And then fire consumed him.