A/N: Okay, just so you know, there are two versions of this chapter. The one posted here is the edited, R rated version. Because Fanfiction.net no longer allows anything NC-17, I've had to post the complete version elsewhere. You can find the full, unedited version at Enlightenment, which you can access through the following address: www.flesh-for-fantasy.com Just go to where it says "Sites" and click on "Enlightenment," and then "Break free." I personally prefer the NC-17 version to the R. Many thanks to NiKiTa for allowing me to post at, and link to, her wonderful site. :)

Chapter Sixteen: Comfort

Early the next morning, Buffy was lying in bed beside Spike, watching him sleep. They had spent another glorious night together, although Buffy suspected Spike had been holding back a bit. He seemed a little self-conscious about the fact that Dawn was in the next room. She couldn't blame him though. She was going to have to start encouraging her little sister to go on lots and lots of sleepovers.

Buffy sighed contentedly and looked down at Spike. She felt so bad for him. She knew he hated being human. Knew he felt useless. Was afraid he was going to turn into another Riley. She knew it wasn't true of course, but she didn't know how to convince him. She could tell him she loved him a million different times, in a million different ways, but it didn't make a difference. That wasn't the problem. Spike was afraid he was losing himself, and he desperately needed to be convinced otherwise.

Placing her hand lightly against his temple, she began to stroke his hair. He was so beautiful. She couldn't believe that only two weeks earlier she had been grieving for him, believing that she would never see him again. He was everything to her. Now, with him by her side, she knew she could go on. Fight the good fight. Protect Dawn. Make her little sister into the best darned Slayer the world had ever seen. They would do it together, once she found a way to convince Spike that he hadn't lost his bite, even though - well, literally - he had.

Tracing the soft curve of his ear with her finger, Buffy sighed again. He looked so peaceful. It was amazing, watching him breathe as he slept. A new, and marvelous experience.

Staring more closely at him, she noticed the scar on his left eyebrow. Something was different about it. Slowly, she traced the tender flesh with her finger, feeling her way along the familiar arch. It had changed. She realized with sickening clarity that the wound was fresh.

Buffy's heart tore in two as she realized what he had done. Obviously Spike had come back without the scar, and in a desperate attempt to reclaim his identity, he had maimed himself. She closed her eyes and took in a slow breath to keep herself from crying. Whatever could she do for him?

In spite of being wrapped in a warm cocoon of sleep, she knew, even in his dreams, Spike was troubled and depressed. She wanted to do something for him. But what?

Sweeping her gaze down his body, Buffy grinned wickedly as an idea suddenly struck her.

Spike was lying next to her, flat on his back. A thin sheet covered him from the waist down. He was perfectly relaxed, deep in the arms of comforting sleep. But she was going to change that.

Slowly, as not to wake him just yet, Buffy moved closer to him and gently placed the palm of her hand over his unaroused member. Lightly, she began stroking him, tracing her fingers along his shaft, teasing it to arousal.

It didn't take long. Before she knew it, he was coming to life in her hand.

Spike moaned.

Buffy watched his face as it contorted in pleasure. Then his eyes slowly opened and she smiled at him. "Good morning," she said, not stopping the movement of her hand.

Spike's eyes widened for the briefest second, then he said, "Morning luv."

Reluctantly, Buffy removed her hand and slid it up his stomach and across his chest. As she did, she brought her left leg over to straddle him. Sitting atop him, she leaned down against his chest and hovered above him, their lips just inches apart.

He opened his eyes again and stared back at her. "Buffy," he whispered.

Gently, she kissed his bottom lip. Then, maintaining eye contact, she slowly began to slide her body lower.

Lowering her head, she kissed his neck, then his chest. Coming to one of his nipples, she opened her mouth and slipped out her tongue, lapping at the tiny nub hungrily. She felt Spike suck in a rush of air as she made contact with the sensitive flesh.

Moving lower still, she kissed his stomach, tracing the hard lines of his abs with her little pink tongue. When she got to his navel, she flicked her tongue inside it, eliciting a shocked gasp from Spike.

Knowing he was on the brink of losing himself, and desperately yearning for her own release, Buffy removed her mouth from his flesh. She straddled him once again, this time sliding herself down onto him, enveloping him in the soft, quivering flesh of her womanhood.

Spike watched her intently. He put his hands on her waist, steadying her, guiding her.

She rode him slowly at first. Then faster. He bucked his hips upward to meet her, their bodies locking deeper with each thrust. Then finally, in a great frenzy of passion, Buffy began to shudder. Her inner walls closed in tighter around him, urging him onward, trying to milk him dry.

Spike growled her name, and then exploded inside her, the sensation welcome and glorious.

A moment later, panting and spent, Buffy collapsed on top of him, her head coming to rest against his chest.

"Spike," she whispered softly, as she closed her eyes, and reveled in the feel of his body pulsating beneath her. He was a vampire no more. Instead of his flesh staying cold, his body recovering with amazing quickness, his body responded to hers like a human. His chest was heaving; his breath coming in short bursts. She could feel his heart pounding rapidly against her ear, playing the sweetest song she had ever heard. His skin was burning. On fire. He was coated in a thin sheen of sweat that Buffy couldn't resist lazily swirling her fingers over. It was all proof, proof that he was alive, and that he was really there with her. She loved him. Every inch of him. She still marveled at the fact that he was human. It was the most amazing gift.

Slowly, Spike raised his left hand and brought it to the back of Buffy's head, stroking her hair lovingly.

She cooed and snuggled closer to him.

"You're amazing," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you Buffy. Oh God how I love you."

"I love you too Spike." She turned her head a little, and placed a chaste kiss against his chest. Then she yawned contentedly.

"Tired pet?"

"Mmm hmm," she hummed sleepily, her body lethargic with satiation.

"Good." He shifted a little beneath her and kissed the top of her blond head. "Sweet dreams, luv," he said, yawning himself.

"Mmm hmm." Buffy slowly drifted back to sleep.