Afterwards they lie still in the dark. Buffy lies in the crook of his arm, one of Spike's hands is still tanlged in her hair while the other strokes lazily up and down her back, up to just underneath her hairline at the back of her neck, and down again to her waist, making the hair on her skin prickle pleasantly. She wraps her arm up around his neck, pulling him closer. He sighs contentedly against her, eyes fluttering behind closed lids.

"Spike?"

"Mm?"

"What do you think about when... during?"

His eyes don't open, he pulls her closer burying his face in her hair and breathing her in.

"You're asking some very raw questions of late. If you want to ask, sweetheart, you've got to be prepared to answer." His mouth is on her neck and she can feel him grin.

"You first."

"I want immunity, you're not allowed to hurl me across the room if you don't like what I say."

"I withhold the right to throw you across the room whenever I choose to."

He takes a breath, the smell of her hair and her skin filling his mouth, his lungs. The hand that's stroking her back flattens down on her skin, pushing her up into him. His teeth graze over the base of her neck and she feels each follicle of hair go rigid from it.

Two weeks. Two weeks ago if he'd done that I would've shoved something wooden straight through his chest.

But would I really? Am I still in denial about what this has been for so long?

He sinks his teeth down, blunt but still hard, not breaking skin, just sucking deep back over the love bite he's already made. His tongue runs across a vein, cool against the heat rising from her into his mouth. She realises she's panting in his ear, her hand running over the back of his neck, nails scratching into his back.

After what feels like hours, and at the same time only seconds, he pulls his mouth away from the deep red mark on her skin.

"I think about... sometimes I think about that night, I came in in the dark. You were naked under the covers and I knew you weren't asleep. The scent of you, the way you looked in the moonlight. God, you've no idea how jealous of your little soldier I was then-" an arm slides around her hips, pushing her into his. He's hard again, and Buffy's mind takes a quick dip out of focus- "I think about what I would've done then if you were mine. If it was my name you'd called out in the dark."

"You wanted me then?"

"You know I did. It killed me, wanting you that much when I couldn't have you." His lips have been working their way up her neck, over her jaw. Sometimes kissing, sometimes biting. "Tell me yours."

"It's not real like that."

"All of this is real. To me it is."

He pulls a handful of her hair down gently, slowly exposing her throat further, his soft tongue caressing her skin.

"I think about when we were together during Willows spell. In the chair at Giles'. Just the way you looked. At me. No one had looked at me like that before. With your hand on my leg and round my waist. I used to hate you a bit for how much I kept wanting that afterwards. I used to hate you a lot actually. It felt unfair to have that and it not... for it to not be true."

"Is that why you kept my ring?"

"Yes."

"You never wondered why I didn't ask for it back?" he murmurs against her throat. The vibration of his voice sets her on the edge of desperation.

"Why didn't you?"

"Magic can't make something from nothing. Don't you know that yet, luv? It has to have a foothold somewhere. We both felt it even before the spell. Heat, either passion or anger, it's just two sides of the same coin. We belonged to each other Buffy, just couldn't admit to it."

"I guess that's true. You always got under my skin. Whether you were trying to or not, you were a complete nuisance."

"You didn't want me to stop though. You never even locked your door."

"I guess if I'm being honest I liked kicking you about."

"You're a sadist." He moves to kiss her but she pulls back, teasingly out of reach.

"What does that make you? You're the one who kept breaking in, waiting to be caught."

"I'll cop to liking it. Always said I'd rather be fighting you. That won't change."

He catches her lip in his teeth. She kisses him back, running her hands up into his hair. He pulls her down onto him, rolling her on top of him. He moves to kiss her neck, hands kneading a bundle of nerves either side of her spine, but she pushes him back down onto the bed.

"I have to get back to the house."

His eyes snap open. His lips brush hers again but she moves further back out of his reach.

"You cant leave me like this, Slayer."

"I have to get back for Dawn. It's been hours."

"I don't care. Stay. She'll be asleep by now anyway."

"No."

She lets him kiss her but she doesn't rise to the bait of it. She untangles herself and gets up from the bed. He growls in frustration.

"Fine. I'll come with you."

"Nope." She finds her clothes and starts pulling them on.

"No?" There's an trace of hurt in his voice.

"Meet me there. In an hour?"

"Why can't-" realisation spreads across his face. He tilts his head and regards her standing there, a smile playing across his face. "Oh. Are we playing that game, now?" She smiles back.

"One hour?"

He nods. She slips the gold hoops back into her ears, flashes him a last smile and climbs up the ladder out of the bedroom.

The house is dark when Buffy lets herself in. The debris of the party is littered downstairs, but she moves past it unseeing.

In her room she changes out of her clothes into her dressing gown and slips down the hall to the bathroom. She takes a long hot shower, feeling the grime of the crypt slipping off her skin. The hot water pulls the aches out of her back, darkening a row of scratches on her neck. The love bite throbs from the heat and she lifts her hair out of the way of the water, letting it scold her there. It stings a little, but the sting of it brings him sharper into focus in her mind.

No matter what I do now he's going to be on my mind. I didn't think I'd fall in love again like I did with Angel.

I still haven't. This is completely different.

There's no horrible dread of waiting for him to leave. Waiting for him to tell me he's doing it for my own good. When mom died... even then he didn't stay. Even then, Spike wouldn't go.

Is it right to still be so angry about it all? Angry and yet... smug? Found something that makes me happier... I didn't think I could feel that now. I thought I was dead from it all.

I always did feel more alive around him. Is that what love is really like? Feeling like you're living for the first time.

She shuts the water off, letting the steam swirl around her for a moment before stepping out of the shower into her dressing gown.

Too many thoughts. Always overthinking everything.

She towels off, and on her way back pulls a new sheet a bedspread out of the cupboard. The same one from that night.

She changes the bed, and dries her hair. Then undoes the dressing gown and slips in between the fresh sheets. The cool of the cotton on her skin makes her think of him. Cold on hot.

"Every time you show up like this, you risk all of your parts, you know that?"

She grins at the memory. The way he'd faltered and flustered when he realised what she was wearing in bed was nothing.

She closes her eyes and forces her breathing to slow down, drifting into a half waking kind of sleep. She doses a little, until she hears the click of the front door.

He let's himself in, closing the door as quietly as he can, trying not to disturb the hush of the sleeping house.

I remember that night. I stood here, for a while, thinking about what I was going to say. How I was going to get her to come with me. What I could do to persuade her. What would happen if I she refused to hear me out... Couldn't really blame her if she didn't want to leave her warm cosy bed just on my say so.

Stupid, but I honestly thought I'd win her over. She'd see what a toxic loser he was, see me there. See me wanting her... Did I really think she'd fall into my arms? Let me comfort her? I can't have been that deluded.

He climbs the stairs, feeling his stomach clench like it did then. Each step feeling like he was walking towards some inevitable breaking point. Some event horizon which would change everything.

Dangerous girl, caught alone in the dark. I knew I was running a risk. I was out of my mind. Thought either she'd listen, or she'd kill me. Either way it would be some sort of a release. The thought of her, in bed without him. Worth any risk...

He stops outside her door, rests his forehead against the wood, feeling like the whole thing is playing out again. Riley, out in the night downtown, the urgency that any minute him and his vampire troll would finish and he'd head on back, a fresh mark on his arm that he'd hide with long sleeves even in the sweltering Sunnydale heat. The desperation that it might all be too late and he was on his way now, about to catch him in her room. Again.

Got off light the first time, just sunburnt skin for a few days.

Didn't expect any restraint from him in a second round. Not if he caught me with her in the dark.

He turns the handle, stepping into the dark, closing the door softly behind him.

I wondered what she'd be wearing... a slip, or a t-shirt? The thought of nothing at all didn't cross my mind. All words fell out of my head at the sight of her bare shoulders, like some pathetic schoolboy.

The room looks like it did then, soft white sheets, the shape of her underneath them. The warm smell of peaches from her skin, hot and wet like she's just showered. Just like before.

I didn't care then. With her so close, I thought it'd be worth it just to stand here. I'd let him stake me, wouldn't even fight it if I could just stand here and watch her sleep a little longer.

She stirs and he feels his skin prickle, waiting for an onslaught, bracing himself, fists balled by his side. What am I doing...?

"Spike?"

Oh God let me have that moment again. I'd go through it all, every single ounce of agony, all of it again, if I can just have that moment on repeat forever. My name on her lips forever.

She sits up, holding the cover to her chest. He stays standing for a moment, just taking her in, the gold of her skin, the silk of her hair. Green eyes twisting his gut, cutting him to pieces.

He shrugs out of his coat and steps out of his boots, stepping up and over the frame of the bed. He can hear her heart pounding.

No... that's not her... that's definitely me. What's wrong with me?

He straddles her, his legs on either side of hers, separated by the bed covers, kneeling on top of her. He brushes a careful hand down the length of the arm that's holding her up. Her skin is cool. Cooler than his.

What is happening?

Her eyes widen at the heat from his fingers. She pushes his shirt up over his chest, fingers flattening over the scar.

"Your... uh-"

He grips her biceps in his hands, mouth crashing into hers. Her lips are like biting into a piece of fruit, sweet and soft and wet, and the scent of her seems to fill his mouth, bursting over his tongue.