Disclaimers: Yeah, I'm Joss. What, I really am! Why doesn't anyone
believe me when I tell them that?!
Feedback: I honestly do read every comment left on my story; I write for the readers.
Author's note: Well, this is the last chapter . . . then there's the epilogue. Make sure to read that; it's vital to the sequel I will eventually be writing. Don't read the epilogue, you'll probably be a bit confused later on.
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She lay on the ground, breathing heavily, the waves of heat from the burning building in front of her blasting her face. Sitting up, Buffy stared at the Factory, at the flames enveloping it, choking the air with black smoke. The tears that had been gathering at the corners of her eyes began to overflow in a salty stream, running down her face and dripping onto the pavement.
"Spike," she whispered, staring ahead into space, at nothing in particular. Dropping her head between her knees, Buffy pounded at the pavement with her hands. "Spike!" she screamed out into the night sky, her emotions overwhelming her, wrenched at her anguished heart. "You can't do this to me," she howled, "You can't leave me like this! I just, I - I . . ."
Buffy broke down in loud, racking sobs that permeated the air. "I love you," she murmured to herself, "And I never got to tell you that."
"Tell me what, luv?"
She stared at the figure that approached her from the shadows, partially hidden by the thick smoke that was enveloping the premises. Blinking in disbelief, her eyes widened when she saw who it was. Spike, walking with a noticable limp and dragging heavy chains behind him, his shirt tattered and torn, various bloody wounds covering his body. He looked like death itself.
And she had never been happier to see him in her entire life.
Buffy found herself crying even harder, sobbing with relief. Spike's eyebrows drew together in concern, and he rushed over to her. "Don't cry, pet," he cooed, "It's over, you're okay, everything's fine. You'll be fine."
Gazing into his eyes, Buffy threw her arms around him, hugging his body close to hers. "Spike, you're alive!" she sobbed "You-you're alive, you didn't burn, you didn't . . . I was so worried, I thought that I'd lost you! H-how did you -"
Spike winced as the Slayer gripped him even harder, but ignored his painful wounds. "If there's one good thing about being a vampire, it's the speed. I broke free of my bonds and got to the door right as the place blew sky high. Smashed me up a bit, a little worse for wear, but no major bodily organs missing." Sitting back on the ground, he pulled her away gently. "Basically I'm fine, luv, but what about you? You seem to have gotten some nasty bumps yourself." Glancing down at her broken leg, he frowned. "Leg looks broken . . . you need to get to a hospital. I'm gonna go find a phone so I can -"
"No!" she cried out, "I mean . . . I don't want you to leave. I . . ." Buffy trailed off, blushing.
"What's wrong?" he asked, confused.
"I - I don't want to lose you again," she whispered.
His eyes softened. "Buffy . . ."
"For the past two weeks, ever since you told me that we should seperate, I . . . you're the only thing I could think about," she explained, wiping tears from her eyes, "Whatever I was doing, or who I was talking to . . . you were always in the back of my mind." She chuckled. "I even forgot my own birthday, if you can believe that. But I have been thinking about me, and you, and how . . . 'us' might not be such a bad thing." Spike stared at her in disbelief, but she continued.
"Even though I had been thinking about you, I didn't really . . . I wasn't sure of my own feelings. I knew that I cared for you, but I wasn't sure how much. If I was really willing to settle down in another vampire relationship, especially since my last one was so . . ." she drifted off, thinking, trying to put her emotions into words. "So I didn't know how I felt . . . until tonight. When I thought of someone hurting you, I just got so -angry-. I wanted to inflict the most violent death on that person possible. And when I thought that you died . . . I couldn't bear it. The thought of never seeing you again, never feeling you or smelling your cigarettes or, hell, even arguing with you! I couldn't bear it . . . and I realized something. Something important. And now that I'm finally being honest with myself, I think that I should be honest with you, too."
She gazed longingly into his eyes. "Spike . . . I love you," she whispered.
Spike felt his heart leap to his throat; he couldn't believe what he had just heard. "Buffy -"
She pressed a finger to his cracked lips, moving to him. "No talking," she murmured, "Just kissing." Wrapping her arms around him, she met his lips with hers, giving him a sweet, chaste kiss. Pulling him to her, she kissed him again; passionately, this time. Exploring her warm mouth with his tongue, Spike's surroundings seemed to melt away into nothingness, and all he could think about was Buffy. Finally she pulled away, panting heavily.
"Need to breathe," she explained. Spike looked over at the wounded Slayer and felt as if his heart would burst; he hadn't been this happy in a long while.
"Buffy," he said softly, "you have no idea how much you mean to me. How much -this- means to me. And if you give me a chance to be with you, *really* be with you, heart and soul . . . I'll show you just how much love I have to give."
Buffy arched an eyebrow in amusement. "So, I see how it is now," she accused, "You're just tired of having only yourself to love every night, huh, Spike?"
The tender moment ruined, Spike snorted mockingly. "Yeah, well, at least I don't keep that . . . -box- under my bed."
She gasped, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. "There will be no blackmailing," Buffy warned, "Or there will be no kissing."
Spike shrugged. "Fine, fine by me. I'll never bring it up again." He paused, thinking. "However, you could have told me that you had *another* Mr. Pointy."
"Worried about your competition?" Buffy teased, "I can see why. Still, you obviously get the better deal in our relationship."
"How do you wager?"
"Well, let's see. When you have me as your girlfriend, you get the whole Slayer package. Protection, strength, stamina, shiny blonde hair and a winning smile. When I have you as my boyfriend," she continued, "What do I get? Vulnerable," she pointed at his various wounds and burns, "emotional baggage, bad reputation, unknown past, and, hey, let's not forget that crazy ex of yours."
"Speaking of ex," Spike piped up, "what happened to Drusilla? Did you dust her?"
"No . . . she ran back into the Factory. Did you happen to see her by any chance? Tall, dark hair, stark raving mad?"
"No," he replied, suddenly worried, "I didn't see her."
Buffy smiled. "So, she got blown up. Good for her; it's a definite improvement."
"I can still beat you on this past-relationship thing hands down," Spike said, changing the subject, "Yeah, I may be disreputable, but at least I don't have what you do. Angel." He spoke the name as if it were something dirty. "You're not going to tell me that if the Poof ever comes back to Sunnydale for a visit, and you know he will, he's not going to try to ream me a new one for being involved with his ex-pet? Hardly. So let's see you beat that one, Slayer," he challenged.
She sat back on the concrete, thinking, at a loss for words. Finally, she piped up, a sheepish look on her face, "Oh, hey, my leg's starting to hurt again. I think you should probably go call an ambulance now, huh?"
It was Spike's turn to roll his eyes.
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THE END
Feedback: I honestly do read every comment left on my story; I write for the readers.
Author's note: Well, this is the last chapter . . . then there's the epilogue. Make sure to read that; it's vital to the sequel I will eventually be writing. Don't read the epilogue, you'll probably be a bit confused later on.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
She lay on the ground, breathing heavily, the waves of heat from the burning building in front of her blasting her face. Sitting up, Buffy stared at the Factory, at the flames enveloping it, choking the air with black smoke. The tears that had been gathering at the corners of her eyes began to overflow in a salty stream, running down her face and dripping onto the pavement.
"Spike," she whispered, staring ahead into space, at nothing in particular. Dropping her head between her knees, Buffy pounded at the pavement with her hands. "Spike!" she screamed out into the night sky, her emotions overwhelming her, wrenched at her anguished heart. "You can't do this to me," she howled, "You can't leave me like this! I just, I - I . . ."
Buffy broke down in loud, racking sobs that permeated the air. "I love you," she murmured to herself, "And I never got to tell you that."
"Tell me what, luv?"
She stared at the figure that approached her from the shadows, partially hidden by the thick smoke that was enveloping the premises. Blinking in disbelief, her eyes widened when she saw who it was. Spike, walking with a noticable limp and dragging heavy chains behind him, his shirt tattered and torn, various bloody wounds covering his body. He looked like death itself.
And she had never been happier to see him in her entire life.
Buffy found herself crying even harder, sobbing with relief. Spike's eyebrows drew together in concern, and he rushed over to her. "Don't cry, pet," he cooed, "It's over, you're okay, everything's fine. You'll be fine."
Gazing into his eyes, Buffy threw her arms around him, hugging his body close to hers. "Spike, you're alive!" she sobbed "You-you're alive, you didn't burn, you didn't . . . I was so worried, I thought that I'd lost you! H-how did you -"
Spike winced as the Slayer gripped him even harder, but ignored his painful wounds. "If there's one good thing about being a vampire, it's the speed. I broke free of my bonds and got to the door right as the place blew sky high. Smashed me up a bit, a little worse for wear, but no major bodily organs missing." Sitting back on the ground, he pulled her away gently. "Basically I'm fine, luv, but what about you? You seem to have gotten some nasty bumps yourself." Glancing down at her broken leg, he frowned. "Leg looks broken . . . you need to get to a hospital. I'm gonna go find a phone so I can -"
"No!" she cried out, "I mean . . . I don't want you to leave. I . . ." Buffy trailed off, blushing.
"What's wrong?" he asked, confused.
"I - I don't want to lose you again," she whispered.
His eyes softened. "Buffy . . ."
"For the past two weeks, ever since you told me that we should seperate, I . . . you're the only thing I could think about," she explained, wiping tears from her eyes, "Whatever I was doing, or who I was talking to . . . you were always in the back of my mind." She chuckled. "I even forgot my own birthday, if you can believe that. But I have been thinking about me, and you, and how . . . 'us' might not be such a bad thing." Spike stared at her in disbelief, but she continued.
"Even though I had been thinking about you, I didn't really . . . I wasn't sure of my own feelings. I knew that I cared for you, but I wasn't sure how much. If I was really willing to settle down in another vampire relationship, especially since my last one was so . . ." she drifted off, thinking, trying to put her emotions into words. "So I didn't know how I felt . . . until tonight. When I thought of someone hurting you, I just got so -angry-. I wanted to inflict the most violent death on that person possible. And when I thought that you died . . . I couldn't bear it. The thought of never seeing you again, never feeling you or smelling your cigarettes or, hell, even arguing with you! I couldn't bear it . . . and I realized something. Something important. And now that I'm finally being honest with myself, I think that I should be honest with you, too."
She gazed longingly into his eyes. "Spike . . . I love you," she whispered.
Spike felt his heart leap to his throat; he couldn't believe what he had just heard. "Buffy -"
She pressed a finger to his cracked lips, moving to him. "No talking," she murmured, "Just kissing." Wrapping her arms around him, she met his lips with hers, giving him a sweet, chaste kiss. Pulling him to her, she kissed him again; passionately, this time. Exploring her warm mouth with his tongue, Spike's surroundings seemed to melt away into nothingness, and all he could think about was Buffy. Finally she pulled away, panting heavily.
"Need to breathe," she explained. Spike looked over at the wounded Slayer and felt as if his heart would burst; he hadn't been this happy in a long while.
"Buffy," he said softly, "you have no idea how much you mean to me. How much -this- means to me. And if you give me a chance to be with you, *really* be with you, heart and soul . . . I'll show you just how much love I have to give."
Buffy arched an eyebrow in amusement. "So, I see how it is now," she accused, "You're just tired of having only yourself to love every night, huh, Spike?"
The tender moment ruined, Spike snorted mockingly. "Yeah, well, at least I don't keep that . . . -box- under my bed."
She gasped, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. "There will be no blackmailing," Buffy warned, "Or there will be no kissing."
Spike shrugged. "Fine, fine by me. I'll never bring it up again." He paused, thinking. "However, you could have told me that you had *another* Mr. Pointy."
"Worried about your competition?" Buffy teased, "I can see why. Still, you obviously get the better deal in our relationship."
"How do you wager?"
"Well, let's see. When you have me as your girlfriend, you get the whole Slayer package. Protection, strength, stamina, shiny blonde hair and a winning smile. When I have you as my boyfriend," she continued, "What do I get? Vulnerable," she pointed at his various wounds and burns, "emotional baggage, bad reputation, unknown past, and, hey, let's not forget that crazy ex of yours."
"Speaking of ex," Spike piped up, "what happened to Drusilla? Did you dust her?"
"No . . . she ran back into the Factory. Did you happen to see her by any chance? Tall, dark hair, stark raving mad?"
"No," he replied, suddenly worried, "I didn't see her."
Buffy smiled. "So, she got blown up. Good for her; it's a definite improvement."
"I can still beat you on this past-relationship thing hands down," Spike said, changing the subject, "Yeah, I may be disreputable, but at least I don't have what you do. Angel." He spoke the name as if it were something dirty. "You're not going to tell me that if the Poof ever comes back to Sunnydale for a visit, and you know he will, he's not going to try to ream me a new one for being involved with his ex-pet? Hardly. So let's see you beat that one, Slayer," he challenged.
She sat back on the concrete, thinking, at a loss for words. Finally, she piped up, a sheepish look on her face, "Oh, hey, my leg's starting to hurt again. I think you should probably go call an ambulance now, huh?"
It was Spike's turn to roll his eyes.
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THE END