Part Eleven - Given Up

Spike's head jerked up as the door hit the wall with a thundering sound. It was the Slayer's way of announcing her presence, so he hastily closed his journal and stood up to face her as she made her way through the crypt towards him. She looked beautiful as ever to him, wearing a light green tank top and tight, dark brown trousers. He hadn't seen her for days, or rather nights, and he wondered what the reason of this unexpected visit could be.

"Slayer. To what do I owe this pleasance?" He tried to mask his uncertainty with politeness when she stopped in front of him.

She looked up at him, and he thought he saw a tiny spark of something he just couldn't define as she looked him firmly into the eyes, as if searching for something. Then she sighed.

"I've just come to tell you something."

"And what could that possibly be?" he asked, trying to ignore the feeling of uneasiness that started to build up inside him.

"I've given up."

"On me?" Forcing himself to smile had never been so hard before. Idiot! This is exactly what you wanted! Still, the words stung. "Glad to see you being yourself again," he lied.

She nodded, still holding his gaze. "I'm glad, too."

She turned, and then, so swiftly that he couldn't even react, brought her right leg around in a kick so hard that he never knew what hit him as he collapsed to the floor.

Buffy stood still for a moment, looking at the unconscious vampire to her feet.

"Yeah," she mumbled, "Finally come to my senses."

***

He awoke to the sound of somebody whistling, and almost immediately wished he hadn't.

"And here we go again," he murmured, trying to suppress a moan when his head started to ache. Bound to have a giant bump. It's the Slayer who hit you, after all.

Speaking of whom… Spike opened his eyes, slowly. Only to look directly into Buffy's cheerful face.

"About time you wake up. I was starting to get bored, with your TV broken and nothing to read." She smiled.

"And what exactly is this going to be?" He didn't even bother to tug at his chains. They were his own, the very ones he had used to hold Buffy captive during that episode with Dru. So he knew this was quality work.

She pouted. "I thought this was the normal way with vampires."

Now he was confused. He stared at her, and her smile widened.

"The… normal way? What are you, a sodding butcher? Couldn't you just bloody stake me, without special treatment?"

"No, you stupid vampire! The normal way to show your affection. You did that, you know." She beamed at him, and he was starting to wonder if she was finally going bonkers. In his confusion, he tried to hold on to reason.

"Didn't you say you had given up?"

Buffy sighed. "Can I tell you something? Every time I was left behind, by Dad, Angel, Parker... Riley," for a brief moment, pain crossed her face, "I just lived my life and tried to cope. But, you know what? It never really worked." She was looking serious now, as she brought her hand to his face and softly caressed his cheek. "So, I've given up on giving up. I've decided to keep you."

"Keep me?" he croaked.

"Yes." She smiled, and raised her head. As her soft, warm lips met his, Spike let go of every doubt he had about their relationship. Who needed reason, when he could have this? A small moan escaped him as he leant down to deepen their kiss, hungry for more. He felt her smile, and she pulled away from him, leaving him longing for more. He had waited so long, so patiently, suffered so much…

"Buffy," he whispered, but she backed away, moving out of his reach. Now he tugged at his chains, struggling to free himself from their iron grip, but in vain. Bloody sodding quality work!

He settled down, looking at his love in growing frustration.

"And what do you expect of me now?" he growled.

"I'm not sure." Buffy shrugged. "What's the usual procedure? Torture?"

The vampire rolled his eyes. "As if you could torture me," he snorted.

"Oh, I can." A broad smile played around her lips as a thought occurred to her. Her hands slowly gliding down her legs, caressing the soft fabric of her trousers, she reached down for her boots, and removed them. Spike's mouth went dry immediately. She can't be doing what I believe she's doing…Watching his reaction, she moved her hands up her thighs again, playing with the top button of her trousers before opening it. The peroxide blond man was completely at a loss for words, as she playfully led the fabric down her now naked legs to her feet, flashing a seductive smile at him before she stepped out of it.

"Slayer! What do you think you're doing?" he croaked, unable to take his eyes off her.

Instead of an answer, Buffy grabbed the ends of her tank top, and slowly, so slowly, raised it over her head before dropping it to the floor.

There she stood, his Slayer, wearing nothing but dark green silk underwear that left almost no part of her beautiful body to the imagination. Her blond hair fell freely onto her shoulders, and her eyes were glowing with an inner fire. All he could do was stare in awe at the woman before his eyes, unnecessarily holding his breath as she stepped up to him. If his heart had still beaten, it would by now have exploded, not able to hold the enormous love and adoration he felt for any longer.

"Bloody hell, Buffy…"

She reached up to caress his face again, and he leant in to her tender touch. Then an evil smile crossed her lips, and she moved even closer, rubbing her almost naked body against his own.

"Feeling tortured yet?" she asked, but didn't really need an answer. She could feel his reaction. He moaned as he felt her soft heat meet his body, her scent surrounding him. He wanted to touch her, feel that warm flesh underneath his hands. Desperately, he tugged at his chains.

"Buffy, please…"

Spike drew in a sharp breath when she reached into the pocket of his black jeans. For a moment, her hand rested there, the heat driving him almost crazy, before she pulled it out, producing the key.

"Now, that's some place to hide the bloody thing," he said hoarsely - and moaned as she reached up to free his hands, her breasts rubbing against his chest. He heard a faint click, and the chains no longer held him.

Buffy looked up, expectation written on her face. But instead of sweeping her into his arms, he just kissed her long and tenderly. Hesitantly, his hands moved around her back, making her giggle.

"Spike, why so shy all of a sudden?"

Spike grinned. With an unexpected movement, he threw Buffy onto his sarcophagus, the Slayer sreeching with surprise and joy. He took the wonder that was his girl – his! – into his arms, embracing her tightly, enjoying the knowledge that he could allow himself to drift off to sleep and still wake up finding her close to him. He wanted to tell the world how proud he was to have her lying beside him, happiness filling every fibre of his body.

"I never thought it could be so hard to win a vampire," she whispered, snuggling closer to him. He laughed softly, and she loved that sound right away.

"It's much easier to keep him, I promise." He turned his head to face her. "I love you, Buffy."

"Good."

"Good?" He looked hurt. "Is that all?"

"I love you too, Spike." She smiled. "And whoever has something against this relationship will have to face the Slayer."

"And her vampire," he added.

"And they lived happily ever after?"

"Okay."

"Okay? What do you mean, okay?"

"I mean that we'll do whatever you want, love."

Buffy was silent for a moment, just enjoying the comfort of him holding her.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"And what more could a vampire possibly want?"

She rose to her elbows, and looked into his smiling face. "This," she said.

And kissed him.

The End…