"Buffy."
Willow's voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. All of Buffy's concentration was focused on Dawn's cold hand in her's.
"Buffy," Willow said again. Buffy jumped when Willow placed her hand gently on her shoulder. "Buffy, you should go get some sleep."
"But Dawn," Buffy said, her voice cracking.
"She's safe here with me," Willow said gently. Andrew coughed beside the computer. "And, um, Andrew."
"Right, ever the vigilant Watcher, me," Andrew said.
"Shut up," Buffy muttered.
"Shutting up."
Buffy put her head in her hands and ruffled her blonde hair. "Where the hell did Xander go?"
"Probably to blow off some steam," Willow said softly. "Can you blame 'im?"
"No, I," Buffy inhaled sharply. Of course he needed to blow off steam. The woman he loved was dying. And she had caused it. Her voice cracked "I-"
"Buffy, it's not your fault."
"Right, now you decide to get on the 'let's not blame Buffy' train."
"We'll figure this out. We always do." Willow took Buffy's hands in hers and looked seriously into her eyes, her lips thinning. "But right now, all you can do is sleep. Ok?"
"Yeah, ok," Buffy said. She released Willow's hand's quickly. They almost stung. She'd spent so long being angry at Buffy for getting rid of magic that this new kindness seemed unreal. It was like it wasn't actually Willow, like it was all fake.
Buffy hated fake.
The apartment was unlocked, so Buffy figured her roomies were up late. Sure enough, when she stepped inside, Tumble was standing in the middle of the living room, holding a cup of tea.
When he heard her footsteps, he spun and smiled at her.
"Hey Buff."
"You look happy," Buffy said, hanging her jacket next to the door.
"Yeah, well, a friend came to town."
"Who?" Buffy turned around and stopped short.
Spike was standing up from the living room couch. He looked the same as he always did, calm, handsome, with a cheeky half-smile and cold eyes.
"Slayer," he said, his smile softening.
Buffy let out a small exhale as she whispered, "Spike."
"Yeah, we can finally start that band, pretty cool to have this guy back, right?" Tumble said, thumping Spike on the back with a cheerful grin.
"Tumble, could you give us a minute?" Buffy said softly.
"Right, history. I'll get out of your way." Tumble backed out of the living room and slid into his bedroom.
"I got your voicemail," Spike said. "About Dawn-"
Buffy didn't let him finish. She walked straight for him, took his face in her hands, and kissed him.
Spike froze in surprise, then, his soft, cool lips melded into hers and her pulled her tighter to his body.
"Forgot how damn good that felt," Spike said softly as the two broke apart.
Buffy licked her lips, not ready to be away from his. She tasted like him now, like a slight, lingering bite of cigarettes, and tang of rum. She wanted to have that taste back on her lips and she reached for him again.
He grabbed her wrists before she could reach him. "What're you doing Buffy?"
"I'm trying to kiss you, isn't that all you wanted for, like six years straight?"
"Why now, love?"
Spike lowered his head in his annoyingly cocky fashion. His eyes saw deep into hers. She knew, when he dipped his head to her level, that he knew her in a way no one else did. That he was expecting a truthful answer, and that he would know if she tried to lie to him.
"You came back," she whispered shakily. "Because of Dawn."
"Well o' course I did, I practically raised the lil' bit." He licked his bottom lip thoughtfully. Buffy followed his tongue with her eyes, distracted. "That's not why you kissed me."
Buffy dropped her hands from his and turned away. "Everything's all my fault, Spike. And everything is falling apart."
Spike tilted back his head. "Now come on, Buffy, that's not true."
"Stop it!" Buffy yelled, turning on him. "Stop doing the babying bit! I screwed up Spike, can't you just blame me like everyone else?"
"What do you want me to say?"
Buffy wasn't sure what she wanted him to say. She wanted him to be honest with her, for one. And she wanted him to stop comforting her. "Say that it's my fault that my sister is dying."
Spike looked seriously into Buffy's green eyes. "Oh I get it. You want me to say you shouldn't have fucked Angel. You want me to say I was bloody jealous, and that on top of that, the two of you caused a hell of a lot of mayhem in return for your little pleasure romp. You want me to tell you that it's your fault Red hasn't got any magic, your fault that the little bit's hours are numbered, your fault the zompires are running rampant."
"Well, it is," Buffy said, her voice low and dangerous.
"Yeah, it is, and you're an idiot.
Buffy turned away, tears stinging in her eyes. It was one thing to see Xander lose his cool on a brick wall. She'd seen Xander angry, and she'd see him be happy again. The words that she knew to be true coming from Spike, though, seemed different. Worse.
Spike was the one who was there for her. Always. Even at the darkest hour.
She was surprised when she felt Spike's hand rest gently on her shoulder.
"But I'm not here to tell you you're an idiot. And I'm not here to baby." Spike seemed to struggle for a moment. "I'm here because you need someone by your side. You need someone who'll support you even when you do somethin' stupid like destroy the seed of all magic."
Spike's hand slid down Buffy's torso and he turned her around gently. "You don't need any more people telling you that you've done somethin' terrible. You get enough of that from Xander and Red. What you need is more people to stand beside you through thick and thin."
"And… and you want to be that for me?"
Spike's chin jutted out and his lips turned up in a grin. "Nah."
Buffy choked out a laugh through her tears. "I, um, I want you to be that for me. And not because I think you're reliable."
"Yeah, shall we dispense with the boo hoo? All I can think about right now," he growled as a smirk flickered on his face, "are your lips."
"Thank God," Buffy sighed, and she rushed to Spike once more.
His arms wrapped around her waist in a tight embrace, and she grabbed his shoulders roughly and pulled his lips to hers. Once more, the tang of his mouth was on hers and she loved it. His jacket was smooth in her tight grip, but she wouldn't have it there anymore, and she was tugging on it impatiently.
Spike laughed against her lips, and took his hands from her waist to help her pull off the jacket.
Then he was lifting her, and her legs were wrapped tightly around him, and he was kissing her neck.
Her heart was banging inside her chest. They'd made it to the couch, somehow, and she was still hooked around him, sitting in his lap. She sighed as he kissed down her throat. His teeth grazed across the fragile soft part of her neck, and she thought of how once, she never would've let that happen.
Now she trusted him with everything.
Suddenly, he was flipping her over and he rested on top of her. Suddenly impatient once more, she kissed him back more agressively, biting on his lower lip, pulling on his leg. Then, with a sudden crash, the two found themselves tumbling across the floor.
In the middle of the rug, Buffy regained her position on top, and held Spike to the floor as she ripped open his shirt. Buttons flew in random directions. She ran her hand over his smooth skin as she tasted cigarettes and rum on the familiar territory of his tongue.
"What the fuck?"
Buffy jumped off of Spike and turned to look at her roommate standing behind the couch, mouth gaping.
"Buffy-"
"Sorry, Tumble," Buffy said standing quickly. "I, um, never explained the Spike thing, and I totally should've asked before using your couch for making out half naked-"
"Buffy, I knew about you and Spike the first time I saw you together, and this couch has seen plenty of asses. That's not it." He sighed and pointed at the ground beneath them.
Buffy and Spike both looked down. Pieces of the coffee table littered the ground beneath them.
"Rubble never did bother us, eh love?" muttered Spike.
She looked up at him and he winked.
"I'll pay for it, Tumble," Buffy said quickly. "In the meantime, we'll re-locate to the bedroom." She grabbed Spike's hand. "Like now."