"Because I Love You"

By Meirou


Buffy jolted awake in bed, clutching the folds of her comforter, her breathing ragged. A sheen of cold sweat had beaded upon her forehead and her golden bangs were plastered to her skin. Kicking away the sheets, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Eyes wild, she shot across her bedroom to the wall-mirror. "Oh my god..." Her hands gripped onto the edge of the polished bureau, and soon a wave of relief passed over her. No sign of injury was apparent.

It just was a dream. No vampire. No stake-in-the-shoulder. No Dawn. No accusations. No Spike...

"No Spike," she repeated softly. Buffy ran a nervous hand through her hair, and only then did she realize how jittery she was. She truly thought she'd killed him. Sluggishly shuffling back to the bed, and sitting down slowly, Buffy truly felt fear for the first time since returning. Letting out a hysterical laugh, she rested her elbows on her knees, smiling in spite of herself. "Because I love you..." she snorted, "What's wrong with me?"

Buffy lay back down onto the bed, and she noted how heavily she continued to breathe. It was just a dream, it didn't mean anything. Why would she kill him? They *were* mortal enemies...or at least had been. Now, now they seemed inseparable--in a twisted sort of way. Was she really that desperate to mask her insecurities? Or was it another premonition?

"No. No premonition. Spike is--he's fine. Everything's fine...or so I've convinced myself. Just forget it, Buffy. It was only a dream," she spoke aloud to herself, uncertainty plaguing her tone. Another hysterical laugh. Her hands came over her eyes, rubbing away the loss of sleep. Sleep that she needed. With a determined sigh, she crawled back under the covers. But before long, she found herself trying to stifle tears.

*~*~*

"All I wanted...was a little peace...just a little peace to myself. All I wanted in this world...was you. All I ever needed..." the soft hum floated throughout the crypt, bouncing off the sullen walls with an eerie echo.

Spike awoke with a start, his eyes narrowing as he searched the room for the source. His tired gaze came to rest upon the television, filling the crypt with that familiar, blue, late-night sort of glow. He must've fallen asleep in front of it--again. Recognizing the old, black and white movie, a small half-smile graced his lips. The leading character, a young man, sat perched beside a river, his thoughts immersed in the love of his life.

"Stupid bloke, don't you know that she doesn't love you? She's in love with that Peter-something-or-other. Bloody right she is too, didn't think she'd find out about you and that Chrissy girl, did ya, eh?" Spike said aloud bitterly, his eyes narrowed again. "Even if you didn't mean it...didn't mean to hurt her...she'll never forget what you did--never forgive you. Never."

The severity of his own words struck him...all too relevent for his liking.

"Well you never know...she might." The platinum-haired man almost jumped sky-high out of his chair.

"What...are you doing here?" Spike answered as he swiveled in his armchair, his cobalt gaze uncertain. Buffy offered a lopsided smile.

"Watching a late-night movie I see," she replied softly. The blue glow caught her eyes, setting them ablaze with color. Spike glanced at her, confused and unsure what to do. Here she was again...probably looking for a little consolation. For what this time, he wanted to know.

He rose from the easy-chair, stepping up beside her as she leaned back against one of the stone pillars. "You didn't come here to talk late-night cinema, did you, Buffy?" he inquired quietly, almost afraid of her reply. That was all she ever wanted. To be consoled. By someone--anyone. For a bleeding rope to be tossed down to her as she dangled helplessly from the mountain of emotions.

She sighed, averting her gaze. "I don't really know *why* I came, actually. But, dare it be said, I felt like I needed to see you."

He touched her shoulder, eyeing her carefully. "Love, you know that it's four in the morning, right?" She nodded reluctantly.

"I killed you."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"In my dream, I killed you...and I came to apologize," Buffy clarified, finally exposing her reason for arriving at the crypt so late--or early. She scratched her neck uneasily and sighed again, taking a seat upon the sarcophagus. It was cold to the touch and she shivered slightly.

"You came here to atone for an act you never performed? Wait--dreaming, about me? Hold the phones ladies and gents...something's up," Spike returned, his expression only half-comical.

"Spike..." she answered with a bit of eye-rolling.

"As you can see, Pet, I'm all spiffed up and ready to go." The man beamed, patting his chest. Buffy merely cast him a questioning glance, and as soon as he realized she was a bit miffed, his expression darkened. "I'm not a pile of blustering particles, Buffy," he said bluntly.

She nodded, and fell silent again. That was until Spike sat down beside her, barely resisting the urge to pet her soft blonde locks. "I woke up terrified that something *had* happened. It was like, the world stopped..." she spoke up finally, breaking the quiet that only the tv had hindered earlier. By that time, it had flickered in and out, and Spike eventually turned it off.

"Because you killed me?" Spike wondered, their eyes locking. He smiled a goofy grin, clearly enjoying her confession.

"I just knew that something was wrong, that's all," her tone became unwavering now. If she didn't enforce her confidence--well forget enforcing her confidence! For God's sake she was floundering, she wanted him to hold her. She wanted to cast of the facade, confess the true reason why she came. And it wasn't because she wanted consolation, she just wanted *him*.

"Let's cut to the chase here, Miss Sunnydale. I don't much feel like being apart of the kissing and crying routine. Can't take it anymore," the blonde-haired man responded. "You had a dream...that ya what, staked me? Hasn't that been your MO since day one?"

"Don't do this, Spike. Not again," she said in a near whisper. Was she wrong? Would she lose him--for real this time?

"Again? Is that what this is about? The bloody dream? Come off of it, we both know that's not why you're here! You come to 'confess' about the lot of it, wanting to apologize. What kind of apology is *this*? Tell me what you want, or rocket out of here, okay?" he berated, clearly annoyed. "I wish you wanted to be here because of *me*, but I had to stop hoping. What's the point? If Army-boy or good ol' Angel came back, I'd be left in the dust--or as it. Gee, how appropriate."

"But--I do," she whispered, her gaze to the floor. She raised them immediately as his movements gravitated towards the crypt door.

"Mr. Sunshine is going to drop by for a visit any--what?" he stopped short, glancing back at her over his shoulder.

"I *do* want to be with you," Buffy exclaimed, her eyes clear and bright. She slid off of the stone mass, walking towards him. "I came here because of you, Spike. I was terrfied because I really thought I'd lost you. In my dream, I killed you because I was afraid. But I couldn't bear it if I had...my god. Don't you see? I can deny it all I like, but I don't want to anymore." She threw her hands up to her temples, and ran them back through her locks.

He moved away from the door and met her halfway. They stood mere feet from one another, their breathing falling into a passionate rhythm. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked darkly, fearful of her answer. He tilted his head gently, his eyes on her. Burning holes into her silken flesh...

"Because...I love you." And at that moment, Spike realized if he had been breathing, he would've stopped completely.

He swallowed the lump that had crawled up his throat, and he slowly took her hand. Drawing her close her whispered into her ear. "Shall we dance, Slayer?"

"Until the end of time," she agreed, teary-eyed and smiling. His arms slipped around her waist, pressing her tightly against him, and they gently swayed side-to-side.

He looked into her eyes, his hand stroking her cheek. "Sorry, love. But the song's over," he growled suddenly, his vampiric visage appearing. With a quick jerk, Buffy's back was pressed against him, one arm holding her in place, and the other keeping her head to the side.

He let out a horrific laugh, tickling the exposed area of her neck with his finger. She squirmed, trying to push him away. The arm around her waist tightened immensely, and the other around her neck choking her. "Why, Spike? I love you! What do I have to do to prove--

She stopped short as she felt his razor-like teeth sliding into her flesh, tasting her. His grip was iron-like, but warm. This was what love had bestowed upon her. It seemed like an eternity as he drained her, stealing away her life. This was what she wanted afterall...her deathwish. It was him. She gave one last, determined jerk as she tried to rip free, but suddenly allowed herself to relax.

"Buffy," he whispered into her ear, as he returned to normal. He flipped her around to face him, and smiled.

"Why?" she murmured despondently, fading.

"Because I love you...dearest." She dropped to the floor with a thud.