Disclaimer: I get it, I don't own these characters... so stop hounding me!

Author's Notes: For those of you who are wondering why it has taken so long for me to update this story, the answer it simple. No reviews. I don't feel the need to supply chapters if I get nothing in return. So Please, I'm begging here, if you want to see more of this story, please review.

Chapter 12

Waking early, before his love who lay next to him, her legs entwined with his, Spike gingerly moved her so as not to wake her and slipped out of the comfort of his bed. Picking up the discarded papers he sat down in his chair and picked up the pen, signing each dotted line that required his signature. His heart broke as he did so. With each page another tear would fall, splattering onto the paper. She didn't want him, she never would, and no matter what he said, he would always give her what she wanted. If she wanted him to stake himself, he most likely would, just to make her happy.

He looked over at the sleeping woman that lay in his bed and sighed. Her golden blonde locks fell haphazardly across her face and her arms held the sheets clutch up against her breast in such an innocent fashion. And there, right on her neck, overlapping all of the other bites was his, his claim upon her and also his gift to her to let her go, to let her have her life. He could still feel her blood coursing through him, singing to him, every fiber of his being alive with her blood. It was intoxicating.

He got up from the chair and set the papers, now completely signed next to his love and grabbed his leather duster. "Well luv, I've got some business that I've gotta attend to. I'll be back, not sure when, but then again, it's not like you care too much." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and pushed back her hair. "I love you Buffy." With that he was gone, seeking the solace of what was left of the night to make his escape from Sunnydale.



A chill night wind woke Buffy from her sleep. Instead of feeling marble like flesh flushed up against her body, all she felt was alone, that chill crept up her spine that she had once again been abandoned.

Rolling over she felt the crinkle of paper against her. She reached over and pulled the offending articles out from behind her. The divorce papers, now signed, stared up at her. Spike's blazing signature stood out in his Old English scripture. But there were also spots that she could make out where the ink had run with tears. He had been crying when he signed these; Spike had been crying. As she looked over the papers, the realization that she had actually gone through with the divorce to the marriage that should have never happened began to sink in, and she felt horrid for it.

Fluttering out of the stacks was a note, again in Spike's delicate scripture. It still amazed Buffy how such a brazen, uncouth guy like Spike could spend so much time on such meticulous writing, she still denied that he had been a poet, because the thought was just too strange.

Sitting up to gain some better light, Buffy began to read the letter that was addressed to her.



My dearest Buffy,

As you are reading this, I know that you have now noticed my absence upon your awakening. I apologize for that love, but had I stayed to see you wake, seen your eyes open, still heavy with sleep, seen you at your most beautiful, I would have been rendered unable to leave your arms and this pain, which has taken to breaking my heart. You see, I had to leave, I don't belong here, not yet at least. Trust me when I say that last night meant so much to me. You will forever hold my heart for all of eternity and that's a long time for a vampire. You have been the light in my darkness. You've given me so much. I know I'm just some evil, soulless thing, but you treat me like a man, and I love you for that, I truly do. I believe in you; if I don't make it back before that final battle with Glory goes down, I want you to know that I believe in you. You will find a way to beat that Super Bitch down. Don't worry about where I've gone though, you shouldn't waste your thoughts on me.

Buffy's own tears were now falling unchecked down her face as she continued to read what might be the last thing she ever saw of Spike. From enemies to lovers and then to something that she couldn't quite define, but they were something, there was something between the two of them. And now he had left as well.

This world is hard, harder for your because you can never escape it and you can never let go of the evil that binds you to your position. At times it can feel like you're not even living and you have to have that violence to pull you back. But now I'm starting to channel good ole' William the Bloody poet, so its time for me to stop and just end this letter.

These past few months, you have been my everything and I know what it is like to feel peace. You have made me believe that I have a purpose again, that I can do something with this cursed life. Thank you. Oh, I have signed the papers, obviously, I shoved this letter in them, but I have given you what you asked for, we are no longer held together by the bond of marriage, but in fairness, we are still bonded through the claiming we preformed last night. I should go now if I want to have any time before the sun rises. Adieu sweet sun. May your light never go out.



Love,

William "Spike"

P.S. I will return to you.

Buffy let the tears run as she stared at the letter, the ink now running from her tears. "Oh Spike. I never wished you gone. I want, I need you here, by my side. Why is it that all of the men in my life somehow manage to leave me?" She touched the two puncture marks on the side of her neck and sighed. "Please come back soon."

Collecting her belongings she dressed and left the crypt, papers and letter clutched in hand, while Spike, curled in his blacked out DeSoto, found a dark alley to hide away from the sun until its dangerous rays receded from the harsh light of day.

Spike pulled the picture of Buffy from his duster pocket, the only one he had managed to filch and keep. The picture and its curled, rough edges made his unbeating heart ache. She was smiling up at the camera with a grin that spread across her face in the sexiest fashion while her eyes shone like liquid mercury, the light reflecting off of them. She was laying on the ground, the grass surrounding her, her hair slightly tousled and her skin gleamed in the sunlight, each crevice of her body alight with the sun's rays that he avoided to such harsh degree. She wore a white tank top that rode up slightly, showing off her toned stomach and her faded blue jeans lay low on her hips. Everything about her was gorgeous, and had been lucky enough to have a part of her light. He wasn't going to be a poofter and screw it up like Angel though. He was going to become the man that she wanted him, needed him to be. Sure, he may be love's bitch, but at least he was man enough to admit it.

As Buffy reached her home, she walked up the stairs to her room, right past Dawn. Dawn looked at her sister and cocked her head over to the side. "Buffy?"

It was as though she hadn't even heard her, the door to her room clicked shut behind her, and Dawn could hear her sister's sobs, heart wrenching cries of a broken heart.

Dawn knew that he sister had been gone during the night, but what had occurred she could only imagine. The was when she heard the muffled sob, which held a name on Buffy's tongue.

"Spike..."

Dawn gasped audibly. How? No... It wasn't possible, it couldn't be Spike. Could it? She ran out of the house, bent for Spike's crypt. She knew that Spike had been in love with Buffy, and she accepted that, she even accepted that he would never see her as she saw him, but she needed to know though, what had taken place with Spike that had left her sister but an empty shell. All of the worst possible situations flew through her head. Had someone killed him? Did Buffy kill him? Did he do something to Buffy? She reached the crypt and went to open the door; however, she noticed the bare spot where Spike typically parked his old DeSoto that Dawn just thought was the coolest car and she realized, that that was it... he had left. He'd just left, without even tell her goodbye. This had to somehow be Buffy's fault. Buffy always somehow screwed up everything for her, and now she had chased off one of her only friends.

Turning dejectedly around she began the trek home.

Two yellow eyes watched her as she walked and just as the vampire was ready to attack the sweet little brunette, he exploded into a cloud of dust.

A dark figure was left standing there as the dust cleared. Stepping out from the bushes and into the path of Dawn, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to go out so late?"

Dawn looked up from her feet and gasped, the scream held in her throat. "Oh God!"

TBC...