Disclaimer: Same as always, lovies, don't own anything except my own characters. Although, I must confess, if Spike keeps wearing his hair all long and curly and mussy like it was last week, I might be up for some grand theft!!!

A/N: This is the last part of the chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know, guys! Thanks for your reviews, I love hearing from you.
Enjoy!



Chapter 12: The Tempest(Part Three)


Spike repeated.

Buffy's heart accelerated slightly as she sought his gaze. Forever blue. It could not be anything else. Not brown, green, gray, black or violet or hazel. Only blue. He spoiled her for any other color. No rainbow, no box of one hundred shades matched the brilliancy in his blue eyes because no flat color held his spark. The golden glint of his demon combined with William's inner light. It was impossible to completely describe those orbs, but once she experienced them in all their intensity, she never forgot them. They haunted her dreams, roused her from a peaceful sleep and guided her way into him. Whoever said windows were the eyes to the soul was not wrong. Wait! He didn't have a soul. He didn't even have a chip; soulless and chipless. But, if she was not seeing his soul, what was she looking at?

Her fingers traced over his eyebrows, tracing his scar and down his cheekbones. Show me, she said.

Spike was taken aback, but he knew what Buffy wanted to see. He was a changed vampire, a new man, a better man. He was not ashamed of himself or his demon. They had an understanding finally and existed as one, so he complied with her request.

He shifted into his demonic visage. Buffy placed her hand over face, covering everything below his eyes. Fascinating. She just stared into them, into him, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Spike allowed the exploration, not sure what she was searching for, but allowed her penetrating gazes all the same. He took her smile as a good sign. She was trying to hide it, but he saw the smile. It filled him with warmth and a twinge of trepidation. Buffy must have sensed it because she then removed her hand.

she simply said. He blinked his feral eyes as Buffy brushed her fingertips along them. They're still blue. She waited for her observation to sink into his mind. It wasn't as quickly as she hoped, so she leaned forward. I found you. His mask fell away and Buffy stared into his eyes, so full of wonder.

Her breath tickled his chin as she brushed her lips across his jaw line. He inhaled sharply as she stopped before his mouth, her eyes looking straight into his. He studied the woman, trying desperately to remember his promise to himself. He bit back the words that threatened to pour forth. But, he couldn't continue to stand there, not with her looking the way she did, her breath heightened with anticipation.

Spike bent down and captured her lips. It had been so long since they had last kissed, Spike wanted to know it all again. She tasted the same, he would never forget it, his ambrosia, the sweetest nectar. He considered backing off slightly; he didn't want to scare her off, but as soon as he touched the silken skin of her lips, he couldn't help himself. When she let him inside, he swore he might purr, he was so happy.

Buffy immediately responded to his touch, moaning as his tongue ran over her bottom lip. She smiled against him and allowed him access into the depths of her mouth. His cool tongue began its exploration of her teeth, the roof of her mouth and finally engaging her own tongue in a slow sensual dance.

There was no urgency or desperation in their kiss. It was passionate, yes, but they weren't in a rush to get reacquainted. Buffy's hands made their way to the sides of Spike's face as she wanted further her own access to his mouth. She felt all tension leave her muscles as Spike's ams pulled her flush against him. She wanted this, she wanted him, she burned for him.

Spike broke the kiss, knowing Buffy needed to breathe a some point. They were both panting and staring at each other with glazed eyes. They remained in each other's arms neither feeling the need to be anywhere else.

Spike once more felt the urge to confess his undying love. Say anything, he ordered himself. Say anything else.

But, Buffy beat him to the punch. We seem to keep ending up here lately, she whispered with a half smile on her face. She took in her thoroughly kissed bottom lip, a sign of her nervousness. Why was she nervous? Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, like he wasn't sure what to do next.

That we do, love, Spike agreed.

What do you suggest we do about this? Her voice was devoid of innuendo, just a plain, innocent question. The sound of which, made the answer doubly clear.

I think...maybe...you should try to get some sleep, love.

Buffy nodded her head. She was glad he said that. She wanted him right then and there, would have complied if he swept her up and taken her to his bed. Her body was calling out to him, for his kiss, his touch on every inch of her skin, his body molded to hers, filling her completely. But, she knew, and Spike obviously did too, that now was not the time. They couldn't just jump back into each other's beds again no matter how much they desired it. That was a problem last time. Neither could bare repeating those mistakes. Even with this logic in place, she was still glad he said it and not her. She wasn't sure if she could have said anything at all.

Buffy shuddered all over and her eyes returned to their glassy state. She still felt the thunder and the rain wreaking havoc on her body. The thunder cracked again, louder than before. The storm was still directly overhead. Buffy jumped further in Spike's embrace at the noise.

She was still shaking when she tried to speak. Spike, I... She didn't want to say it, didn't want to ask especially considering their precarious relationship. It's just... she tried again.

He knew and just nodded. Climb on in, Buffy.

She smiled shyly and turned to Spike's canopy bed. This was the first time she took in his room. Very... non Spike. The room had style and class, something the crypt lacked. Then again, it must have been hard to make a crypt classy. This room was a breeze. But, the bed was her only real concern was the bed.

It looked large and fluffy, laden with pillows. A soft, gauzy canopy draped over the deep mahogany and billowed in the breeze. Buffy got goose bumps as the wind drifted in from the slightly ajar window.

Do you want me to close it? Spike asked, already on his way to do just that.

she halted him. I like the sound.

Me too.

Buffy continued her perusal of the wondrous piece of furniture before her. The sight beckoned her. In the tired daze that weighed her down, she believed it to be an illusion, a dream bed oasis. She crawled up the mattress, her hands and knees sunk into the softness beneath. It was real, the Maharaja of beds if ever there was one. And what laid beneath was a delicious treasure, crimson satin sheets. She ran her tips along the fabric. She flushed all over at the thought of these sheets full encompassing her hot, sweaty naked form.

Does it meet your approval? Spike inquired as he moved to the foot of the bed, one hand wrapped around the bedpost. He contained his purely male primal urges as he watched her display. Crawling up his bed on all fours, her back side swaying ever so slightly in her pajama pants, shoulder blades rocking up and down through her white tank top. The sensual caress she gave his sheets, like she wanted to wallow in them. He desperately swallowed the impulse to flip Buffy onto her back and make love to her in those sheets until their shiny finish faded from use. Did she even know how crazy she made him? Of course she did, she was a female, this was what they did, especially this particular female.

Buffy looked at the vampire who questioned her, slightly embarrassed at her reaction to his sleeping quarters. More than meets it. Without further words, she gingerly slid into the bed. She rolled onto her side, eyes fixed outside on the rain.

Spike just watched her tiny form fit itself into the mattress. Always a perfect fit. It was too surreal having her in his room, in his bed. He should have been jumping for joy. But, his feet were planted firmly on the ground, his conscience fully engaged, regretfully. And all he could do was watch her breathe.




Did you take care of our leprechaun issue? the man asked the woman currently snugged to his chest.

Leila licked droplets of rain from his skin. It's being dealt with, she purred.




The windows were broken and the furniture was smashed. Everything was in shambles. The ceiling caved in, heavy beams scattered on the floor. Destruction was everywhere, blatant destruction. Artifacts thrown to the ground, their shards a mosaic among the splinters and dust. Book shelves and hutches toppled over. And beneath the debris, a tiny hand struggled to lift his tattered and torn body. Oxygen was harder to gasp. The pains in his chest were so intense he couldn't move anymore.




Spike saw Buffy toss and turn, her beautiful face contorted in pain. Should he wake her? Or was it better to finish a Slayer dream if it was indeed what she was having?

No, no, no, she mumbled over and over. Small beads of sweat dotted her forehead. she called out still in sleep.

He was by her side in an instant. Climbing behind her, he whispered to her. No worries, love. I'm right here. His hand ran up and down her arm as he spooned against her, willing her breathing to even out. Slowly it did; the nightmare seemed to pass. Don't worry, pet. Nothing's going to happen to you, I promise. And nothing's going to happen to me either. You're stuck with me, he chuckled. More soberly he added, for awhile atleast.

The storm subsided and Spike felt the need to sleep. He wrapped his arms protectively around Buffy's waist and placed a kiss on the top of her head. He continued to hold her close and kiss her lightly on her head and along her shoulders. Nothing was going to harm her tonight.