In the Name of Love

By Tales of Spike

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc. own all the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It's their ball, and as soon as money is involved they take it home. That's why this is totally free, gratis and non-profit making. Bah!

Some text and scenes from the episode "As You Were" by Douglas Petrie have been used, but since on the whole the episode is an abomination I refuse to say thank you. I will say thank you to the creators of "The Princess Bride" and let it be known that in my stories it's assumed that everyone, even the Big Bad has seen that film. Thanks to them for the phrase "As you wish".

Thanks again to Joan the English chick and www.psyche.kn-bremen.de for transcripts since "As You Were" still hadn't reached the UK when I originally wrote this.

A/N: Thanks to everyone that has reviewed. Considering this is a repost I'd say it's doing pretty well for reviews and I am extremely grateful.

Bearing in mind that part of the reason for new readers may be down to some of you not being able to read it in its original NC-17 format, I REALLY NEED TO KNOW IF UPGRADING THE STORY TO AN R RATING IS GOING TO EXCLUDE READERS. So, if you are reading this now, but won't be able to if the rating changes, please let me know.

Also, I've had a request for e-mail notification on updates. Since it's as easy to do this for two or four or ten as it is for one, if anyone else wishes to be similarly warned, let me know.

Chapter 3

Spike took a sip from his bottle of beer and returned his attention to the volume in his hand. The cover promised it was a "spine-chilling trip through a world of horror" but as far as Spike was concerned it was more of a comedy.

"Oh, Puh-lease!" He threw the book into the far corner of the room, picking up another from a pile of half a dozen next to the sarcophagus he was using as a couch. This one was a poetry anthology. He smiled wryly at the contrast between his reading material and the punk compilation tape playing in the background. Oh well, no one would ever say he was one-dimensional.

After he'd got back last night he'd made a few careful trips to the lower level of his crypt, bringing up everything he needed to live in the upper level for the next few days. He'd made up a bed cum couch on top of the room's central stone coffin. He'd brought up enough reading material for the week, and since he couldn't get at his albums and turntable he'd rigged up an old tape deck and brought his tapes in from the car. Barring minor inconveniences like the lack of a proper bed, he was pretty well set up, for a while at least.

He picked up his beer again and made himself comfy on his new sofa. It'd be a change just to have a quiet night in

* * * * *

Willy had moved up in the world, literally. He was seldom seen working behind his bar anymore. It didn't pay – too many people – not least of whom was the slayer, preferred to beat information out of him rather than pay for it.

Instead, he remained secluded in his office upstairs. Surprisingly the office was tastefully furnished. In fact, it was fairly reminiscent of an Ikea catalogue, with pale blue walls, cream carpeting and beech office furniture. Six portable TVs were mounted on the wall facing his desk. Four showed different monochrome views of the bar. The remaining two showed the toilets, from such an angle that it was fairly certain that nothing went on his bar that Willy didn't know about.

Most of the time he got on with his paperwork and ignored the screens. Occasionally there would be a small electronic beep and he would look up to see who had entered or left the bar. Sometimes, his attention would be drawn to a particular group or individual. Then he could zoom in on that area and pick up the feed from the nearest concealed microphones. The clientele weren't aware of his presence, they were often less guarded than if he was hanging round, but he could still hear everything they were saying. It made life so much easier.

Tonight he was a bit jumpier than usual. He was expecting at least one visitor. When the visitor turned out to be Riley Finn he shook his head in amazement. Willy started a VCR and settled in for an evening's entertainment. Finn would swallow the line he was about to be fed. He'd believe it because it was what he wanted to believe.

* * * * *

Riley looked around the room hoping to find a demon small enough for him to intimidate it into giving him the information he wanted. He'd ditched the wife and the ex earlier. It would have been embarrassing to have them with him when he went to see his vampire ho. However unbeknown to him Buffy had dusted his little pal and all her friends and burned their old home to the ground, so he'd only had one option left. Willy's. His luck wasn't in. There was nothing small enough to be afraid of him.

Thank goodness he'd gone to the ATM before he went there. The barman saw him checking the number of bills in his wallet as he approached the bar. He made an upward revision to the amount of money he wanted before he would point Riley in the right direction.

Finn tried to look mean and impressive. The facial scar helped a lot (but then that was why he'd done it in the first place). He still couldn't quite pull it off though. Without his steroid diet to give him some sort of edge, he really was just an overgrown farm boy.

"What'll it be?" said the barman.

"I don't want a drink. I just want some information and then I'm out of here."

"Probably just as well. I prefer it when I don't have to mop blood up off the floor."

"I'm looking for a dealer. He calls himself the Doctor." Riley slid a twenty-dollar bill toward the barman.

"I think I've heard a few people use that name the last couple of days."

"Which people?"

The barman looked at the twenty and raised an eyebrow in Riley's direction. Riley drew out another bill… and then another.

The barman reached out for the money, making sure he had a good grip on it before nodding in the direction of the corner of the bar.

The demons at the corner table put up a good show of wanting nothing to do with Riley or his kind. This was true. They weren't too keen on the demon hunters of Sunnydale, whether government or slayer-affiliated. That was why, last year, they'd beaten Spike to a pulp and dumped him in the alley behind the bar. Apart from the location of the eggs, it was the only truthful bit of information that Riley bought with the remaining contents of his wallet.

* * * * *

Spike's head shot up from his book. The tape he'd been listening to, had long since run out and the remainder of his beer was warm and flat. He'd been too engrossed in his book to notice. Nothing, however, would prevent him being aware of the slayer's approach. He heard the change in her footfalls that marked where she left the footpath to cut across the grass to his crypt. He lowered his gaze to his book once more, deciding to opt for the casual approach.

The crypt door slammed open on cue and he looked up apparently surprised. He used the time it took Buffy to stride into the room to check out her new ninja look. 'Not bad – not bad at all…' he thought.

"Buffy. Hey now," Spike stalled, whilst he tried to work out if she was in a "get naked" hurry to see him or a "kick Spike" hurry to see him. "If I'd-a known you were coming, I'd-a baked a cake." Oops he thought. That's probably verging on being too old for Giles to remember never mind Buffy.

Buffy strode towards him whilst removing her gloves. Spike tried to work out if this was so she didn't get blood on them when she mashed his face to a pulp. She was within range now for an easy kick, but still too far apart for a caress.

"I need information." Buffy totally ignored his opening stall.

Inwardly Spike prayed that she wasn't going to ask about demon eggs, of course he wasn't too sure as to who would be listening to him. He didn't want to think about the mess he was in if that's what she wanted. Instead he turned on the charm.

"Well, suppose I could be helpful. If the price is right." He raised a scarred eyebrow and tilted his head forward so that she received the full benefit of his cerulean gaze. "I'm not sure I'm selling out at Double Meat Palace wages though." He looked her up and down meaningfully, hinting at an altogether more pleasant accommodation between them.

Buffy dropped her gloves onto the makeshift bed. Despite Spike's endeavours Buffy seemed to maintain a business attitude. 'Please not demon eggs… please not demon eggs…' chanted Spike's internal voice.

"I need to find a guy. Dealer. Calls himself the Doctor"

"Human?" asked Spike, relieved to be off the hook.

"His traffic isn't."

"Clock ticking?" asked Spike, hope blossoming that he would be able to spend some time with his beloved.

"Whatever he's doing he's doing it soon."

Once again Spike let his gaze travel down her body and back up ending by gazing into her hazel eyes.

"Soon but not now?"

For a second Buffy stood unable to do anything but stare into the sapphire depths of his eyes and the emotions she saw in them brought life to her own numb heart.

Softly she begged him, "tell me you love me."

Surprise and hope flared through Spike's entire being. Almost as if his heart were truly beating, blood rushed from the core of his body to every extremity, making him feel truly alive.

"I love you. You know I do." His astonishment showed in his voice.

"Tell me you want me." Buffy moved a few steps closer.

In response to her gentle tone his reply came out in a whisper. "I always want you. In point of fact…"

"Shut up" Buffy cut in before Spike managed to break the mood with another all too frank revelation.

She reached up looking into his face. Her arms reached around his neck and she guided him towards the crypt, lying down and pulling him on top of her.

Her fingers fumbled with the top buttons of his shirt. Spike in turn pulled at the fastenings of her kevlar vest. She looked up at his face, taking a moment to memorise the deep hollows and smooth planes and the look of wonderment that filled those beautiful blue eyes. She pulled the partially unbuttoned shirt down over his shoulders effectively trapping his arms and temporarily stilling his efforts to remove her clothing. She used the shirt to pull him down towards her waiting mouth for a kiss.

Their lips met in the softest of caresses and after a few seconds she opened her mouth to him moaning gently as she lay back beneath him. He leaned forward probing her mouth with his cool tongue, her own response similarly gentle but intimate. Only his superb abdominal muscles allowed him to maintain his balance without the use of his arms. Finally he flexed his upper arms and popped the next two buttons on his shirt so that he could balance on his elbows above her rather than falling helplessly on top of her.

He looked down at her face. For once it was calm and open. He allowed himself the gentle caresses he'd always wanted to give her, rather than the rough passion that had become their stock in trade. His fingertips traced the lines of her face and then moved gently down the curves of her neck. He watched her until she opened her eyes once more and when she did he opened his heart to her completely.

"I do love you, you know, and there's nothing dark in it. It's nothing like the way I felt about Dru. This is pure, and it is clean and it is true. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a good person. I'll never be perfect. I'll always make mistakes and some of them will be bad ones. The way I feel about you…" He paused and then tried to find a different way to say what he meant.

"There's a demon inside me, but there's a man as well. For a hundred and twenty years the demon had free rein, but it's the person they both make together who loves you and if you let him he'll keep the demon in check. I can keep the demon in check.

I don't always think about things the way a human would anymore, so I tend to do or say the wrong thing, but you have to believe my intentions are good. You make me want to be better than I'm made to be.

I'll still irritate you, and we'll still fight. If you ever tell me you love me I'll be even cockier and more obnoxious than ever before. The Whelp'll still hate me. I'll still act like a total prick when some other guy comes near you but I'll worship you till the day I'm dust. You mean everything to me, love."

All the while he talked he continued to stroke her face and neck. He scanned her face for the first sign of rejection; ready to shut up the second she distanced herself from him.

She didn't respond. No answering declaration of love was forthcoming, but for the first time she listened to what he had to say. She let him into her mind and into her heart as well as into her body.

He lowered his face to hers once more reclaiming her lips. Tonight he would show her the difference between sex and making love.

* * * * *

Some time later, she lay naked in his arms basking in the afterglow of her fourth orgasm and his first.

"Spike?"

"Mmhm", he mumbled, his chin resting on top of her head.

"You know all those times you call me love?"

"Mmhm"

"It's never been luv. L. U. V. Has it?"

He lifted his head and pulled back to look at her. "No, pet, it hasn't, at least not for a very long time." She buried her head on his shoulder, hiding her eyes.

"Don't stop saying it. I know I told you not to, but whatever happens so long as you mean it, keep saying it."

He held her close and whispered in her ear.

"As you wish, love, as you wish."

End of chapter 3

Next chapter: A little bit of Spike and Buffy

Riley sticks his nose in where it isn't wanted

Spike goes to see an old friend