Special thanks: to Kelly for the beta

This is the last chapter, folks. I know you've all been worried about Spike, so I hope you're satisfied with the conclusion. This has been fun to write - thanks so much for all the great feedback.



Repercussions, part 17







She wished she had just said it. It wasn't like she hadn't said it before. Except, had he really heard it, did he really know? He had to know. And she didn't want to make it one of those big, dramatic scenes, declaring her undying love to him, because then it would seem like she was afraid the spell would go badly. Which, of course, is exactly what she was afraid of. Plus, he wasn't exactly in the best shape to hear it. But now he had lain motionless in her bed for two hours, and she wished she'd just said it. Damn.

Buffy had just gotten Spike into some more comfortable clothing when a soft knock came at the door. She had pulled off his jeans and put a pair of Xander's old jogging pants on him. Xander had brought a few things over that no longer fit him, at her request since no one had a key to Spike's apartment. Spike would hate the fact that she was dressing him, but she wanted him to be comfortable, and those heavy jeans wouldn't do. He would also hate the fact that he was wearing Xander's clothes, and she had to smile a little at that. At least they were just a nice, conservative navy blue. He should be o.k. with that.

She called for whoever was knocking to come in, and Dawn slowly opened the door. "Is it alright? If I come in?"

"Sure honey, it's o.k." Buffy answered.

Dawn walked tentatively toward the bed. "They wouldn't let me see him before," she said, "before the spell, I mean."

"I know. He was in pretty bad shape."

Dawn stopped a few feet from the bed. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Yes," Buffy said firmly, "he is. You can come over here, if you want."

She came a few steps closer. "Is he sleeping?" she asked.

"It's a little more than that."

"When is he going to wake up?"

"I don't know," Buffy answered. Dawn looked at her with big, saucer eyes.

"Can I, can I touch him?" she asked.

"Sure."

Dawn sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand. She rubbed it between both of hers for a moment. He was so cold. Then she leaned down and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Spike," she whispered. Buffy reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

After Dawn left, Willow was the next to enter, plying Buffy with food and encouraging her to get some rest. It was getting late, and everyone was going to bed. Xander went home, and Anya popped back to Giles's. Willow decided to stay over, and took some blankets and pillows down to the sofa. The house grew very quiet.

Buffy took a bite of the sandwich Willow had left, and then pushed it aside. She was too tired to eat, so she drew back the covers and climbed in next to Spike. She covered him with her body like a blanket, draped over him protectively, but it was really more for her comfort than for his.

This was something she'd never allowed when they were lovers, except by accident. Or when she just couldn't resist, and pretended it was an accident. She loved to watch him sleep. Long, dark lashes against pale skin, full lips slightly parted, arms and leg entwined with hers. The way his skin grew warm wherever she touched him, and remained cool where she didn't, as if she held some magical power over him, that she could give her warmth to him and make him come alive. And of course she could. He'd told her that. So many things to make up for. So much time wasted.

"Come back to me," she whispered.

He didn't respond.

Exhausted, she fell asleep and began to dream. She dreamed of the day she was invisible. They had had so much fun that day. She had been playful and silly, girlfriendy even, all because he couldn't see her, and so it wasn't real. She had pulled away from him on the upper level of his crypt and shot down the ladder to his bed chamber. "Tag, you're it!" she'd laughed. "Bet you can't find me!" Then she'd silently moved to a far corner of the room, and waited. The look on his face had been priceless. Boyishly amused, and it gave her a thrill. She wanted to give up the game then, and run to him, but she held back. He'd stood in the middle of the room, head cocked to one side, in that way he had, and closed his eyes. Then he walked right up to her, and stood not inches away.

"Come on, give me a hint slayer. Am I hot or cold?" She'd stifled a giggle then, because he was so, so both, and in more ways than one. He'd looked around like he had no idea where she was, and then without warning, she was in his arms. "Hot?" he asked, his voice low and predatory. "Or cold?"

"Oh, I'd go with hot." She breathed. "Very, very, hot."

Later they lay in his bed, his palm stroking up and down one arm. "So what gave me away?" she asked. "Heart beat? Vampire sense of smell? What?"

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss onto lips he couldn't see. "I'll always find you, luv, always."

He kept stroking her arm with the palm of his hand, and she thought she would climb out of her skin. How could he do that? It was just his hand on her arm. And it was driving her crazy in such an incredibly wonderful way. She drifted up into wakefulness and was slightly annoyed. She didn't want that dream to end. And then she realized that the sensation had not ended at all. Just his hand on her arm...

Her head shot up. "Spike?

"Mmm, Buffy skin. Another one of those seven wonders I was tellin' you about."

She half laughed and half cried as she pulled herself up his body to look down into his face. "Oh, God. Are you o.k.?"

"Seem to be. Though tell me this, pet. Is my hair on fire? 'Cause otherwise, I've got a hell of a hangover."

"You're still in pain?"

"No worries. Nothin' compared to the chip. And it's gotten better since I woke up, even."

"How long have you been awake?"

He turned his head to look at the clock, and winced slightly. "Close to an hour."

"And you didn't wake me?" She fought the urge to slap him.

"Oh, couldn't do that. Seemed like you were havin' such a nice dream. All snuggly and pretty sighs and 'Mmm Spikes'..."

She couldn't even get mad at him for teasing her. "It was a *very* nice dream," she said softly, rubbing her nose against his. He swallowed, hard.

"That so?" he managed.

"Mmm hmm." She ran her hands down his arms. "You sure everything is in good working order?"

"I can wiggle all my fingers and all my toes."

She smiled slyly. "Can you wiggle anything else?"

"Ooh, naughty Buffy," he grinned. His hands went to her jersey clad bottom and pulled her tighter against him. "You tell me."

"unh," was all she got out before her lips were on his. It had been so long since they'd kissed, really kissed, besides the other day in the training room, right before everything went to hell. Longing, fear, need all converged at this one point in time, and nothing and no one else existed. His hand traveled up under her shirt to the small of her back, pressing her against him. His other hand was in her hair, pushing it back off her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. She traced his lips with her tongue, and he moaned into her mouth.

"Wait," she said pulling back slightly. Immediately he took his hands off her.

"I stopped!" he said. All his muscles went rigid and he held his hands up as if in surrender.

"No, no," she said softly, taking his hand, "I didn't mean it like that." She leaned down and kissed him again, and she felt him begin to relax beneath her. "I'm sorry," she said, "I totally ruined the moment. I just meant, everyone else is really worried about you, too. We should tell them you're o.k., maybe."

Now he just looked embarrassed, but his hands fell back to her waist. "Middle of the night, pet. Everyone's sleeping." He stopped and listened for a moment, hearing the distant sound of metal clinking against ceramic, and the tapping of a keyboard. Then he smiled. "Except one."

They crept down the stairs hand in hand. Buffy had the oddest feeling, like it was Christmas morning and she was about to give Willow the pony she'd always wanted. She giggled. Better not share that imagery with Spike. The downstairs was dark, lit only by Willow's laptop and the glow from the kitchen light which seeped through the doorway. She sat there surfing, sipping on a mug of cocoa. She didn't see them till they were almost to the dining room entrance.

"Surprise," said Buffy. Willow didn't say a word. She just stared at him for a moment, then pushed her chair back and walked directly into his arms. They held each other tightly, not speaking, and Buffy went and sat on the arm of the living room chair, not wanting to intrude.

Spike took his hands from around her waist and put them on either side of her face, tipping it up to look at him. "Thank you," he said.

She smiled widely. "You're welcome."

It wasn't long before Willow hustled them upstairs, 'to commence with the smoochies' she'd whispered in Buffy's ear. Following him into the room, Buffy closed the door quietly and locked it. Spike sat down on Buffy's bed and leaned up against the headboard. "C'mere," he said, patting the space next to him. "Somethin' I want to say to you," Instead of sitting next to him, she climbed into his lap and snuggled into his chest. He laughed softly. "Comfy, kitten?"

"Mmm hmm," she murmured.

"I just wanted to say, sorry for goin' all two faces of Spike on you there before."

She raised her head, meeting his eyes. "You don't have to apologize."

"I was...out of control. But you were amazing," he whispered, tracing her cheek with his finger. "I mean, I know you said you wanted to redecorate, but I don't think this is what you had in mind." He surveyed her room, which was a bit worse for wear.

She giggled. "At least you didn't use a grenade." She shook her head. Bad memories. She didn't want them, but there they were. She rested her forehead against his chest. "Is this stuff always going to be between us?" she asked him.

"Between us?" he said, making slow circles on her back with his hand, "I guess the trick is to put it behind us."

She hugged him tightly. "Do you remember everything that happened the last couple of days?" she asked.

"I think so. I remember you." He took her face in his hands. "I remember you always bein' there, never leavin'."

She buried her face in his chest, her tears wetting the fabric of his shirt. "I was so scared that I would lose you, and I would never even get to tell you," she raised her head, "I love you, you know. I love every part of you."

"And every part of me loves you." He kissed her again, slow and deep, and she felt like she was melting into his body. Then he broke the kiss gently, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on top of her head.

He looked down. "Who's pants might I be wearin', pet?" Spike asked, suddenly realizing he was not in his own jeans.

"Those might be Xander's," she replied.

She could hear the faint disgust along with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Now my humiliation is complete."

"Well," she said, "we could just take them off..."

He tipped her chin up and kissed her again. "Sounds like a plan."

The end