Title: Can't Stand Losing You (Chapter 25 of Don't Stop the Dance)


Author: Xionin

Rating: Strong R this chapter.

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.

Feedback: "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Moby, after every song in concert.
SilverRain – You know I can't tell you what's coming up. I'm not a bad person, though. No, honestly. Hey, stop laughing! :]
Wolf116 – I really wish they had done more with Dawn. I read recently that Joss wanted to, but her arc got swallowed up in the grand scheme of things. Too bad they just made her whiny and inconsequential. She's quite pivotal to my story. Hint hint.


Disclaimer: Q: What should fans do now that they'll have an extra hour free in their schedule? A: "What should they do with that hour? Write fan fic." Joss Whedon, About.com

Notes: The basement scene. What else can I say? The stares meant something to me.


Muchas Gracias: Miss Kitty and Siobhan – You guys, like, totally rock! Totally!

Enjoy!

~Xionin

Previously on Buffy [adapted from UPN.com]: Buffy is confronted by the First as Caleb. He gives the requisite "I'm going to rule the world" speech again, but Buffy's not afraid. She is shaken, however, when the First morphs into an exact replica of her, like she's looking into a mirror. The First tells Buffy she lives her life alone and will die that way. When it disappears, Buffy comes to a realization: "We're gonna win." She has a new plan that requires some serious Willow mojo. Giles loves the idea, but Willow's nervous. She's afraid she won't have the control to follow through with the spell she'll have to perform, but Kennedy promises to buoy her up. That night, it appears Giles and Xander are mapping out their positions for tomorrow, until it's revealed they are playing a handwritten wizarding game with a red-caped Andrew, Amanda and a snoring Anya.

Can't Stand Losing You

This may be it. The final night. The last moon.

Buffy sits quietly on her front porch wondering why this End of Days seems so...end-y. But it doesn't really matter why. It just...does. It's now or never and she is ready.

She looks out at the darkness of the once vibrant neighborhood and wonders if they all know what's coming. She wonders if they feel safe, now that they've left. Do they feel protected?

She once thought that when this night did come, the eve of destruction, that she would be petrified.

She isn't.

Because she isn't alone anymore.

She has a family again and it feels so right that nothing

can ever be wrong again. Different maybe, but never wrong.

And for better or worse, after tomorrow, she will have changed the world.

-----------

Champion.

Spike twirls the amulet in his fingers, watching the ambient light dance in the facets.

He hopes to God he's strong enough to save her this time.

Grateful for the opportunity to stand by her side, he has no intention of letting her down.

She's placed so much faith in him: so much trust.

It's more than he deserves, but he will not turn away from it.

He'll embrace it, and her, and their makeshift family and defend it with his all.

But it's not just about her anymore; it's about all of them and this world they live in.

He'll fight because it's the right thing to do.

If that makes him a champion, then so be it, but he isn't looking for glory or honor.

There may be no redemption for a soul as steeped in blood as his. No reward for good deeds that are laughably outweighed by bad ones.

But if he can do anything...anything at all, to right some of the wrongs, he will.

Not for her, but for everything and everyone: For himself.

-----------

He feels her coming. Whenever she enters a room, any room, the energy always shifts. She is a flashlight in the darkness.

Her presence is stronger now, fueled by what they share. She is the undercurrent of everything he's ever wanted or loved: needed or craved.

She walks down the steps on a pillow of silence. The worn wood doesn't even complain with its normal creaking; just accepts her footfalls with silent reverence.

When she reaches the bottom, he is already standing...waiting...watching. She stops to look at him in his sculpted perfection and bare feet. He is a cool flame to her moth.

In the space of less than a minute, their eyes say everything because there are no words: not anymore. In sync they move to one another. Slowly and deliberately they close the space between them. It is a dance; a movement towards healing the final rift.

The first touch of her body sends waves of emotion through him. He has waited two lifetimes for this moment. Her eyes, glittering dark jewels, rest in his. She has been waiting as well, and it seems just as long.

She reaches out a trembling hand and runs it along his jaw line and across his collarbone. He inhales sharply, burying his hand in her soft tresses and then bends to kiss her. She kisses him back, shaking with desire, with need, winding her arms about him, until he lifts his head and breathes her name. His arms, so full of strength, pull her close to him, willing her to feel everything he is offering.

This is what she's yearned for, dreamed of, for months now. It's been so long since he's kissed her like this, touched her like this, his hands finding the curve of her throat where it dips into her shoulder, thumbs brushing the sensitive underside of her breasts. His gentleness, something she'd vehemently denied him last year, had somehow always managed to slip in there when she'd stopped fighting for a little while. Now she longs for it.

The other night, he'd said, was the first time he'd made love: the best night of his life. She is determined to show him how wrong he is. Tonight will be the first; the best.

They break apart and gaze into one another. Buffy slips her delicate finger beneath the hem of his t-shirt and traces her nail along his abdomen. He shivers as his eyes close and his lips part in a gasp. She pulls the fabric upwards and over his head, kissing the smooth skin of his chest before pulling back. He opens his eyes into hers and reaches for the lapels of her jacket, sliding it over her arms and dropping it to the floor.

He busies himself with the buttons of her shirt and inhales slowly when the soft light hits the golden flesh of her naked breasts. He runs his hands lightly down her arms. She undoes the buckle of his belt, never taking her eyes out of his, opens his jeans and slides them to the floor, lowering herself and tasting him as she descends. She licks the sensitive skin around his pelvis in quick movements and he jumps with a start. His head rolls back when her warm mouth finally covers him. She moans and he feels it humming in his gut.

Overcome by the sensations he bends down and pulls her to her feet, lifting her he carries her over to the small bed.

He carefully sets her down and goes to work on the fastenings of her jeans, removing her shoes with them and casting them aside. She leans back and stretches out for him, reaching her hand to guide him to her, as if he doesn't know the way. He slips the thin silk of her panties down her tanned legs, kissing all along the length of them and back up.

Their mouths come together again and he smoothes a palm over her breast as she arches into him. Her legs tangle with his as he settles on top of her. She runs her hands down to his lower spine and he plants butterfly kisses on her face and neck, his mouth wreaking beautiful magic on her soul.

He kisses her chest, suckling her nipples like a newborn, relishing her taste, the velvet feel of her — the way she moans in response. Her breasts bud for him as he takes them in his mouth.

She lifts her hips against him as she wants...needs...more. He continues kissing down her stomach, over her abdomen, leaving a damp trail in his wake. He is nipping and licking her soft skin, taking all of her now that she is finally his.

Buffy shivers when his tongue dips into her navel, his hands going under her lush, firm bottom as he continues to slide down. When he suddenly presses his face into her dark curls, inhaling deeply the intoxicating scent of her, she gasps aloud.

He brushes his cheek against the softness of her inner thigh, cuddling her. His powerful hands are at once so gentle, and yet so assured as he stokes the fire of her want for him.

All he's ever wanted is all of her: every small taste and touch.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, as her desperation overtakes her. Sensing her need, Spike parts her velvet folds. He leans in close until he she feels his breath, and murmurs her consent. He kisses her reverently at first, savoring the tremble of her legs on his arms.

He wants to etch everything about this night into his memories.

Spike licks and teases her until she is taut and quivering with a building climax. It hits her unexpectedly and she cries out his name for the first time in over a year, only it's different; so different it's as if she's never said the word before. Her back arches impossibly and her voice is wild with passion. He nearly loses control right then and there. Never has he heard anything so beautiful.

As she stills beneath him, he raises himself up to look at her. She looks like a goddess with her blond hair tossed across the pillow, her eyes heavy-lidded and her breathing heavy and strained. A thin sheen of perspiration covers her, making her luminescent.

He kisses his way up her body as she watches him, a smile playing on her lips. They part in a gasp as he settles himself between her legs and enters her. He kisses her breasts as she moves under him, accommodating him: silently begging him to fill her up once more.

He drives into her slowly at first, deeper and harder on each stroke, until she holds all of him and he can feel the reflexive clenching of her inner muscles. He cups her head in his hands and claims her mouth again as he continues rocking back and forth, trying to meter his thrusts and languishing in the gentleness where before he'd only been allowed the hard fast ride.

She wraps her legs around him, locking her ankles at the small of his back. Squeezing his eyes shut and burying his head in her shoulder, he fights for his rapidly diminishing control. He wants to watch her face as she comes, so he slips his fingers between them and lifts his head.

Her breathing becomes erratic again and he can feel her heart pounding beneath him as he increases the pressure of his fingers, making the friction unbearable.

Her eyes go wide as she stares into his, a tear slipping down the side of her face as she brakes once more. He smiles as he continues to thrust, loving the feel of her surrounding him.

"I love you so much, Spike," she says, still in the throes of her climax and he is gone. He groans long and low as he spills his seed into her. She feels it cool and electric in her womb and smiles as she gazes up at him. His eyes are closed and his expression is one of pure bliss. When his muscles finally relax, she pulls him close, her cheeks flushed. He places a hand on her chest and rests his chin, his blue eyes dark and sated.

After a few moments, he rolls to her side and pulls her close to him. They lay in a limp tangle, Spike still inside her, as he doesn't ever want to leave. They lose themselves in each other's eyes.

Green on blue. Blue in green. Mediterranean Sea. Distant nebula.

Buffy reaches up a hand and brushes away a tear from his face. She brings the finger to her mouth and tastes it. Spike's breath catches. She shivers and her smile fades.

They cling to each other as the realization of what's coming reasserts itself.

"I couldn't stand to lose you, Spike." She whispers.

"You won't, luv. I promise."

TBC Chapter 26: No Time This Time