I woke up slowly, stirring sleepily in Spike's embrace.
What time is it?
I couldn't remember what time we'd fallen asleep, but the sun had definitely already started to rise. It'd been a long, blissful night of talking, drinking, laughing, kissing… and making love more times than I could possibly count. I rubbed my eyes, stifling a yawn. Carefully, I sat up, casting my gaze fondly upon my slumbering vampire, who still had his arms wrapped around me protectively.
The most perfect way to wake up: warm and safe in his arms.
I grinned; he was fast asleep, snoring softly. Adorable. He always looked deceptively innocent when he slept. I stroked his sleep-softened face; he was so very beautiful. His long eyelashes fluttered, as his eyes flickered open. His ocean eyes drank me in, and a soft smile curved his lips.
"G'mornin', pet," he murmured sleepily, nuzzling his face into my hand. He pressed a gentle kiss to my palm.
"Morning," I replied softly, leaning down to kiss his lips. He cupped my face, deepening the kiss. I found myself quickly pulled astride him, and moaned at the sensation of his hard length pressing against my hip.
He chuckled against my lips. "Well, looks like at least part of me's awake…"
"Again?" I grinned, my tone laced with sarcastic shock. "I'm still so sore from last night…"
"I bet you are," Spike smirked, quirking his eyebrow suggestively. I giggled, swatting him playfully. "Kiss better?" His voice was low and seductive, layered with sex and sin.
My coy reply was cut off by my own shriek of surprise, as Spike suddenly lifted me up, and deftly positioned my pussy onto his face. As his cool, soothing tongue plunged inside me, I closed my eyes, emitting a long, loud moan.
"Spike…"
That sinfully full mouth of his was truly working its magic. I felt overwhelming waves of pleasure cascade through my body, as his skilful tongue circled my clit; he licked, nibbled and gently sucked. It wasn't long before I felt my umpteenth orgasm of the night consume me, and Spike eagerly lapped up my juices, whilst my body shuddered and jerked against his touch. I breathed his name tremulously; it tasted so goddamn delicious on my lips.
Oh, Spike… my Spike. Mine.
After bestowing several loving, parting kisses to my pussy, Spike gently manoeuvred me so I was, once again, sat astride him. The wetness of my blissful release was soaking the God-like body beneath me. His gaze met mine; his gorgeous face was alight with a mischievous grin. I watched, awe-struck, as he licked his full, moist lips in a most sensual manner.
"Delicious. 'Spose that's my breakfast sorted."
"Speaking of…" I trailed off, still dizzied by pleasure, flopping unceremoniously onto his chest. He absent-mindedly began stroking my hair. "As much as I'd happily stay in our lil' love nest forever," I sighed wistfully, snuggling up to him. "We have things of the real world persuasion to deal with. Beginning with actual breakfast -" I broke off, giggling, as Spike began affectionately nibbling my ear. "And finishing with telling everyone a whole lotta truth."
Spike's teasing lips began navigating a pleasurable path down my neck. "No fun," he purred. "See, I'm a big fan of the love nest. Can't we hold off on the serious stuff a little longer, love?"
"I owe everyone a lot of answers," I countered softly. "They're my friends - and they've all been worried sick about me these last few months… the least I can do is go and see them."
"Pffft… a few months?" Spike scoffed. "Try a hundred plus years." I couldn't hide my smile as he pouted; it was a sulky, adorable expression.
Why is it that I suddenly find everything Spike does adorable?
"Besides, the sooner I go see them, and at least try to explain everything… well, the sooner we can be a proper couple."
I found myself subconsciously reaching out to stroke Spike's face, inwardly marvelling for the umpteenth time how I didn't manage to cut myself on those cheekbones. He seemed momentarily taken aback by my words, and then broke into a wide, giddy smile - a smile which was so very, irresistibly William.
"Really? So… you'd be my… my girlfriend?" Heartbreakingly, he sounded like he couldn't quite believe he was actually saying the words aloud.
"For all the world to see." I smiled warmly, pulling him in for a kiss. Spike let out a burst of happy, sunshine-hued laughter, his lips eagerly meeting mine. I wound my arms around his neck, holding him close, my heart hammering in my chest.
God, I love him.
His hands tangled in my hair, as I succumbed to the burning passion of his kiss - utterly lost in his lips.
Also… I now officially have a boyfriend.
Spike is my boyfriend.
Fondly, I thought back to the hilarious irony of me, countless times in the past, trying (and failing) to assure people that he was not - absolutely not - my boyfriend.
And now, he actually is.
Spike is my boyfriend. I am the girlfriend of Spike. Spike.
Buffy and Spike, sitting in a tree…
He pulled away reluctantly, only to shoot a smug smirk in my direction. "Can't believe Buffy Summers has officially asked me out."
"Don't look so surprised… I mean, I did tell you I loved you last night. You could even call that a hint."
"Don't worry, pet, 'm not likely to forget those words for the rest of my undead existence." Spike's smile was still teasing, but his eyes shone with sincerity, and there was husky emotion etched in his voice.
"You better not," I pecked his lips lovingly. "Ooh, also - you do remember that we were already courting, right? That wasn't so long ago…"
Spike chuckled warmly. "How could I forget, darling Elizabeth?"
Automatically, I felt heat beginning to pool between my thighs.
Maybe he was right about the role-play…
I've been a bad, bad Buffy… and need a good, kind gentleman to teach me a lesson - perhaps in poetry, for starters?
"Also, before we tackle the whole truth-telling necessity of the real world…" I took a deep breath, taking his hands in mine. "There's something I need to tell you - something you haven't actually asked me yet."
Spike's eyes searched mine. "What is it, love?"
Here goes the part I was dreading the most…
"You never asked me the most obvious question: why I'd ended up in 1880 in the first place."
Spike was silent for a moment, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my palm, his eyes never leaving mine. He blew out the breath he'd seemingly been holding. "Didn't ask, 'cos I think I already know the answer, pet. Figured it out a while back… doesn't take a genius."
I blinked, taken aback. "You… you know?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but… you were sent back to kill me, right?"
Spike held my gaze, his expression unreadable. His words were met by my dumbfounded silence.
Okay… I was not expecting that.
"Dunno why you couldn't've just staked me in the here and now - seems a bit of a roundabout way of going about it, if you ask me," Spike smirked wryly. "But that's just my opinion." I still didn't know what to say. "So… I guess the aim was to fully erase me from existence, right? Giles was the ring-leader, I reckon."
"I could never have done it," I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes.
"Hey, hey," Spike soothed, gently catching my tears with the pad of his thumb. "No more crying, pet. It's okay," he smiled at me reassuringly. "I know you couldn't."
"It scares me how much I kept trying to convince myself that I could, though," I lamented, my voice hoarse with sadness. "That I was the Slayer… and I had a responsibility -"
"What exactly did I do?" Spike cut in, my words visibly paining him. My heart lurched with guilt. "You know, to warrant... killing me? I mean, I'm aware I've always been a bit of a pain in the arse, but…"
"Rumour had it that your chip was malfunctioning, and you'd… you'd started killing again." I laughed bitterly. "To this day, I still don't know if that was even true."
"But you could hardly defend me. Couldn't risk your dirty little secret coming out." Spike's words weren't accusatory, simply matter-of-fact. His shoulders slumped sadly.
"You didn't have a soul, Spike," I said softly. "The way I felt about you… it defied everything I was. Everything I am. Even then, my feelings for you… they terrified me. I felt like I had to prove to them - and to myself - that I could do it. That you didn't hold any power over me."
"And what changed?" Spike tilted his head curiously, his eyes wounded, yet alight with a spark of hope.
"I realised that I couldn't bear to live in a world without you in it."
Spike's face softened. "That's my girl." His voice was rough with emotion. I leaned up to kiss him gently.
"Can you ever forgive me?" My pleading eyes spoke volumes; I wasn't just asking forgiveness for partaking in the mission, but for everything.
"As soon as I saw you waiting for me in that ridiculous frock, all was already forgiven." Spike's grin was infectious, and I fell into his arms, showering his face with elated kisses. "Besides, if it weren't for that bloody mission, you'd never've known what a sensitive sod I am, deep down." Spike stroked my face, smiling, before kissing my lips with the sweetest tenderness.
"Very true - nor the fact that beneath all that bad boy exterior, you're really a romantic poet at heart." I winked at him cheekily.
"Hold that thought…" Much to my dismay, Spike disentangled himself from my embrace and leapt to his feet, striding over to the bookshelf.
Was that even there before…?
"Come back," I pouted, already mourning the loss of his touch. Simultaneously, I sank back into the pillows, gazing appreciatively at his naked form, and the mouthwatering way his muscles rippled as he walked. Specifically, my lust-filled eyes certainly welcomed the view of that ripe, juicy ass.
"Gimme two secs, love." Spike was rifling through the numerous hardbacks littering the shelves, before emitting a soft "a-ha!" under his breath, clearly having found what he was searching for.
I sat expectantly as he swaggered back over, delighting in the enticing vision of his bobbing cock.
"What've you got there, baby?"
Spike slumped boisterously back onto the bed, before eagerly thrusting the battered black book into my hands. "Look familiar?" I glanced up at him, fondly bemused, as he beamed down at me, his blue eyes shining. I shifted my gaze to the book resting in my hands, blowing away any excess dust. It was clearly weathered and well-thumbed… although, at second glance, it was actually bound in navy blue leather, rather than black. I did a double take; engraved on the cover was silver lettering bearing the initials 'W.P'.
William Pratt.
"Your birthday present," I breathed.
"My last proper birthday ever," Spike reminisced fondly. "Twenty-six turned out to be a pretty big year."
"You kept it… all this time?" I couldn't hide the quavering emotion in my voice.
"Of course I did," Spike cradled my face in his hands, pressing a delicate kiss to my nose, followed by my forehead. "It was a present from you. And it kept me going, even through my darkest, most desolate times. Was like I kept a piece of you with me, always."
"My sweet William…"
I opened the book with trembling fingers, sniffling slightly, and began flicking through the pages. I gasped. With every page I turned, I became more and more awe-struck, giddily laughing and crying at once. There were pages and pages of William's words - Spike's words - in that same elegant handwriting I so vividly remembered, only becoming slightly scruffier over time. Ink-stained, sometimes tear-stained pages… poems, diary entries, song lyrics, letters that he'd never sent… 'Dearest Elizabeth', 'My darling Elizabeth'… 'Forever yours, William'.
Spike laughed uneasily, seeming slightly embarrassed as I pored over the pages, absorbing his every word, each cursive line, every eloquent phrase.
I was almost too overwhelmed with emotion to speak. "You still write poetry now?"
Spike flushed. "Sometimes. Mainly channel my poetic muse through song, nowadays," he grinned. "Took up the guitar in around 1963."
"Well, I expect to be personally serenaded someday soon," I giggled, my lady parts already overcome by the mental image of a naked Spike strumming a guitar.
"Can I… uh, would you like me to read you one of my more recent works?" Spike asked quietly, suddenly shy. I inwardly squealed.
I love him so darn much.
"Oh my god, Spike - I'd love to hear it!"
He broke into that wide, boyish smile I so loved, and began leafing through the pages. "So… I guess, now you know why they started calling me William the Bloody in the first place. The real reason." Spike suddenly paused midway through his search, eyes scanning over a particular page, before nodding affirmatively. "This is the one - wrote it a few months back."
"Nothing to do with you shoving railroad spikes through their heads?" I teased, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.
"Well, yeah. That was after," Spike unwittingly smirked at the memory. "And those bastards definitely deserved it."
"Can't say I disagree," I chuckled, despite myself.
"Anyhow, despite my namesake... a hundred or so years later, I think I've finally seen the light." Spike wrapped his arms around me, cuddling me close. I closed my eyes contentedly, nuzzling my face into his chest.
"How so?"
"Well, after over a century dedicated to being the baddest of the bad," Spike held the book poised, ready to read, his lips quirking into his signature smirk. "I've come to realise… I'm actually a bloody good poet."
"For you, I fight.
I fight against myself, the void of darkness within.
To the ends of the earth I would go, solely to win
Your heart and your hand; to be worthy at last.
To transcend from monster to man, and echo sweet joys of our past.
Undeterred, I will battle the perilous night.
Once swathed in life's shadow, I now bask in your light.
I fight all that I am, for one sole thing rings true,
Undead or alive, I will always love you.
For you, I wait.
I wait a hundred plus years: a century of torment and pain,
Cursing and kissing each cursive line of your name.
You're sun-kissed; we're star-crossed - I should burn in your rays.
Yet the stars soon align, and I would gladly burst aflame
To see your face one last time, to hold you close in my arms.
I've waited more than a lifetime; never again will we part.
Let me love you, sweet darling, I pray to Heaven above,
For I have waited forever - to show you what it means to be loved.
For you, I love.
My first love, my true love - "what is love?" I plea,
Ever thine, ever mine, fate links thou with me.
I vow "forever'", "eternal": a love that won't die.
My heart may no longer beat, but 'til the end of time
It is yours - I am yours. "What is love?" you may ask.
Love is the flame that entwines us, both present and past.
They say we burn too brightly for this world, you and I,
Yet our love is eternal; it transcends space and time."