Disclaimer: I own nothing, Joss owns it all
Spoilers: Most of season 7
Feedback: please
A/N: Lady Anne's Awakenings inspired Part of this chapter.

Chap. 3

Buffy stood up and pulled Spike to his feet. Taking his hand she led him toward the stairs.

Spike stopped short. "Buffy, no luv, stop, this is not..."

Buffy walked up to Spike and silenced him with a kiss. "Spike, I know that we are alone in the house right now, but I don't know how long that will last. I want some privacy, so let's talk in my room. It doesn't have to be about sex, but I do want to be alone with you, so come on." Spike followed her slowly.

Once in her room, Buffy shut the door. She motioned to Spike to sit on the bed and she sat down next to him.

"I meant it when I said that it doesn't have to be about sex, but I do want you. I want for us to able to make love, not just pound each other into the mattress. I also want to be with you here, in my bed, in my home. We've never had that. We were together in your home, but never mine. The closest we got was behind the tree in my front yard.

"I know that you already live in my home, but I want to make sure that you understand that I want to let you all the way in. I want you in my life, in my home, in my bed."

Spike looked at her in amazement. He didn't think it was possible for him to love her more, but he had just fallen even more in love. After all of the times that she had told him that she wanted him out of her life, out of her job, out of her town, now she told him she wanted him in her life, in every way. He couldn't believe it. She loved him. She wanted him, and not just to make her feel.

Buffy leaned toward Spike and brushed her lips against his. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. She leaned back and looked at him, at his hair and then into his eyes.

"I love your hair. I really love the way it curls when you don't slick it back. I mean, the slicked-back bad boy look is great when you're working, but I wish that you would let it be soft and curly when you're here with me."

She then ran her finger down to the scar on his eyebrow. "I never really considered scars sexy until I saw this. I think it draws attention to your eyes. Not that they really need much help. I love your eyes. The color is amazing, but more than that, they are so expressive. I can always tell what you're feeling, or thinking, just by looking in your eyes."

She lowered her eyes briefly; "I couldn't look in your eyes so often last year. I couldn't stand to see the love, the hope, or the pain." She raised her eyes to his again, "Now, I want to watch your eyes, see the love, the hope, and the happiness I am finally able to see in them."

She continued her list of loves. She ran her tongue gently over his ear; "I love your ears. You are such a great listener. You hear what I say, but also what I don't say."

She slid her hands down his arms; "I love your arms. I feel so safe when they're wrapped around me. They aren't too big or bulky. I don't feel overwhelmed or suffocated, just safe and loved."

She gently tugged his shirt over his head. "I love your chest and your abs. In fact I love everything about your body. We fit together so well. And I'm not just talking about the sex. You fit me; you don't tower over me. I don't feel cocooned when you're lying with me, or dancing with me, or just holding me. I feel comfortable. My head fits just right into that crook where your neck meets your shoulder." As if to prove her point, she scooted closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder and neck.

"I love more than just the hotness that is you. I love that you like this world so much. I love that you like beer and television and dog racing and Manchester United and that you're addicted to Passions.

"I love that you loved my mother's hot chocolate, and that even before you got the chip you liked hanging out with her just talking. You never once tried to bite her, even when you could.

"I love that you have been by my side, helping to avert the end of the world three times. I'm actually glad that you weren't here last spring, because between the chip and Willow's powers, you would have been too vulnerable.

"I love that you loved me enough to change your ways, something that goes against everything I've ever been told about vampires. In fact, you and Anya are the only demons I know of who have voluntarily changed to fight on the side of good.

"I love the fact that you stayed to protect my sister and my friends the whole time that I was gone. You may have promised to protect Dawn, but you never promised to protect everyone else, you just did. I love that you saw an opportunity to become a better man and you took it. I love your strength, your heart, your mind, and your soul. I love you."

As Buffy finished her monologue, she lifted her head to kiss Spike, surprised to find tears on his cheeks.

"I love you so much, Buffy. I don't deserve you, or your love, but I swear I'll never stop trying to be a better man." He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.

"Shall I tell you everything that I love about you, pet?" He asked with a smile.

Buffy smiled at him, still panting slightly from the kiss. "Later. Right now, I want to feel you against me."

She pulled her shirt over her head and pulled him with her as she lay down on the bed. "I want to make love to you, but if you still feel unsure about this, then we can just lay here and hold each other. I just need to feel you here in my arms."

Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike and slid one leg over his hip, pulling him closer. Spike sighed softly and wrapped his arms around Buffy, capturing her lips with his. The kiss began gently, but became deeper and more passionate.

He pulled back to look at her. "Are you sure about this, luv? You don't have to prove anything to me."

Buffy smiled at him, "I know that Spike, but I'm sure. I love you, and I want to share that with you. As for whether or not this is too soon. We haven't been together in over a year. You have been back in town for six months and this is the first time we've kissed. I don't think we're rushing things. Besides, we don't know what is coming. We don't know how much more time either of us has. The First is nowhere near done with us. If there was ever a time for carpe diem, it's now. I'm not willing to put my life on hold until this is over, because I may not be alive after this is over."

Spike looked at the woman he loved. He knew she was right. They might have years together, or they might have days. He knew that Slayers were short-lived. He knew that better than anyone. He had had a front row seat for the deaths of three young Slayers. He wanted to be with her, too. He wanted to have the opportunity to finally make love to her the way he had wanted to all last year.

He bent down to remove his boots, then he leaned over and slipped her shoes off. Then he began to kiss her as he helped her remove the rest of her clothes and she returned the favor.

Soon they were making love tenderly. It was nothing like their frenzied, violent encounters of the past year. This was pure love, nothing less. They lay together afterward staring at each other in awe, tears in their eyes from the intensity of their lovemaking. It was like nothing either of them had ever experienced.

Spike slid to Buffy's side and pulled her to his chest. "Luv, that was beautiful..." "Amazing," Buffy supplied.

Spike shifted his weight so that he was above Buffy. He looked into her eyes and began to recite his favorite poem:

"Your face is written in my soul and when
I want to write about you, you alone
Become the writer, I but read the line;
I watch you where you still watch me, within

This state I am and always will be in.
For though my soul imprints a half-design
Of what I see in you, the good unknown
Is taken on a trusting regimen.

What was I born for if not to adore you?
My ills have shaped you to the bent they give.
I love you by a daily act of soul.

All that I have I must confess I owe you.
For you I came to life, for you I live,
For you I'd die, and do die, after all."

Buffy looked at Spike, tears coursing silently down her face. "That was beautiful. Did you write that, or memorize it?"

Spike laughed softly. "Too bloody good to be mine, pet. The poet's name is Garcilaso de la Vega. I learned the poem when I was in school. It just describes how I feel about you so well."

Buffy rolled them over so that she was lying on top of Spike and they made love again.


Afterward, Buffy gently pushed Spike off of her. "I need to take a shower."

Spike looked at her, slightly hurt. She saw the look in his eyes and sighed. "Spike, I need to get washed up, everyone will be home soon. I don't want to scar a bunch of impressionable young girls. I'm going to need Kennedy to take them into the basement to train while we talk to the gang, and I'll never get them out of the room if they know that we've been making love all afternoon."

She paused; "You can join me if you want."

Spike looked at her in surprise. Then he jumped off of the bed to join her.

Later, after they had showered and dressed, they heard the cars in the driveway. The gang was home.

As they left the room, Spike took Buffy's arm. "Luv, you don't have to do this right now. We can keep quiet for a bit. You know that they will probably 'wig' to use your term. Do we really want to face their wrath after the beautiful day we've?"

Buffy looked at Spike incredulously, she couldn't believe that he wanted to keep their relationship a secret. Why? Then she looked into his eyes and saw the concern there. He was trying to protect her, again.

"Spike, I love you. You are NOT my dirty little secret. You are the man I love, the man I want to share my life with. I have to tell my family. They deserve to know and we deserve to be out in the open, not hiding away like we're ashamed." With that she kissed Spike and turned to walk out the door.
He shook his head and smiled. She just kept making him fall more and more in love with her.
A/N: Sappy, I know, but I think they deserve a little sappiness. Don't worry, I'm done with the sweetness overload. The next chapter will have more typical Buffy and Spike, although with a little more tenderness and maybe some playfulness.