"What the hell?" Buffy gasped, when she turned on the light in their bedroom.
"Bloody hell," Spike swore as he picked up one of Buffy's bras off the floor. Everything from Buffy's dresser drawers had been tossed around the room like confetti.
Buffy straightened herself and looked sternly around the room, "Alright Casper! That's it! What the hell did I ever do to you?"
They waited a minute looking around the room, and nothing. Aside from the mess, nothing seemed unusual. Spike started picking up Buffy's things, putting them in neat little piles on their bed, "I don't know how you wanna arrange this stuff, Love," he paused looking around, "You know, something like this… I think something must've pissed our ghost off. Trouble is, what?"
Buffy joined him and started putting things away, "Clearly she has something against me. Have you noticed none of this is yours?"
"Seems our ghost has a fixation."
"Joy…"
It wasn't until they had nearly everything put away that Buffy noticed Spike's poetry journal sitting out amongst the last of her items on the loveseat. The book was laying open haphazardly to a page on which Spike had drawn a picture of Buffy. The picture had been torn in half, "Well whatever is going on, she is starting to piss me off. I liked that picture," Buffy grumbled.
"I can always draw another one, Love," Spike looked around the room again and sighed dramatically, "I think that's the last of it, Pet."
"I'm getting ready for bed. Hopefully our ghost is too pooped to spook after all this."
"One could hope… I've still got plans for you."
She took a few steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, "What kind of plans?"
"Three guesses…"
Buffy ran a hand down the front of his jeans, "Pretty sure I only need one," she purred.
"You feeling up to it?"
"If we take it nice and easy," she added as she reached for the light switch.
The two of them started kissing tenderly. Then intensified. Spike let out a moan of approval as she ran her hands under his shirt, practically ripping it off of him. He went to grab her at the waist but stopped himself.
"What's wrong?" she panted.
"I was going to throw you down on the bed but I don't want to hurt you."
She paused, then smirked, "I have an idea, but you're going to have to lose those," she said, gesturing to his pants.
Spike scrambled to comply, "Thought you'd never ask."
Buffy pushed him up against the side of the large fireplace, trailing rough kisses along his neck, chest, and stomach. She continued down until she found the prize she'd been looking for and took him into her mouth. Spike gasped as she did so. Buffy started removing her own clothes as best she could. She took a moment to catch her breath when she took off her shirt, "Bed, now," she gasped. Buffy stood up facing him. They kissed passionately as they made their way over to the bed.
As soon as she felt the back of her legs touch the bed Buffy laid back onto it, "Now, Spike!" She begged. But Spike just smirked. Instead of entering her he knelt down between her legs to pay back the favor. Buffy arced her head back, crying out in ecstasy. She dug her fingers into his hair as she felt herself getting close to the edge and pulled him up towards her. Spike complied feverishly kissing a trail up her body to her neck before entering her. He worked his way in slowly, careful not to put too much of his weight on her ribs. Buffy wrapped her leg around him pulling him deeper into her.
Spike increased his pace slightly and Buffy let out a moan, "Oh God, Spike! I need you!"
He thrust into her deeply, pairing it with a rough kiss she accepted in kind. It was impossible to tell where he ended and she began.
"I love you," he murmured.
Buffy let out a little gasp, "William, I need you, kiss me…" she moaned as their lips met again. As they held the kiss, Spike twisted himself holding Buffy to him as they rolled to Buffy's left side, "Hold me," she whispered.
"I'm never letting you go, you're mine," he growled, kissing her again.
Buffy screamed in delight as she felt the first wave wash over her, "Spike!"
He rolled Buffy back onto her back driving hard into her. Buffy screamed again as Spike reached his own climax sending her over the edge once again. He paused letting Buffy catch her breath then started gliding inside of her once again quickly picking up speed. Buffy gripped his arms digging her nails into his skin as he drove into her harder and faster until he pushed her over the edge for the final time.
Spike kissed her one last time before collapsing down on the bed next to her. "God I missed that,"
"Come here," Buffy moaned playfully.
"Again?"
"No, I just wanna feel you next to me."
"You won't get any complaints here, you want to get under the covers?"
"Do I have to move?" She joked.
"I got this, Pet," he said grinning as he got up, pulled the covers back as far as possible. Buffy giggled as he picked her up. He laid her back down on the bed and pressed himself to her ensuring as much contact as possible. Then he pulled the covers over the two of them. Buffy adjusted so she was laying on her left side with her back pressing into Spike. She loved feeling his cool skin pressed against her.
Spike started running his fingers lightly along her arm and down her side tracing her curves with his fingers. "How do you feel?" He murmured into her ear.
"Like the man I love just gave me three intense orgasms."
He brought his hand back up to gently caress her arm, he brushed her breast as his hand went to her ribs, how do they feel?"
"Alright,"
"Is that right?" His hand ran down between her legs and she relaxed allowing him access as he massaged her already sensitive area. She let out a little gasp as he continued rubbing her gently. As he sped up she moaned in delight.
"God, I love that sound,"
Buffy moaned again, on purpose this time, spurring him on. She could feel him hardening as she pressed into him, "William—"
"ENOUGH!" Came a shrieking voice. "William should have been mine! You've ruined him! Ruined!" The voice of a hysterical girl screamed.
Spike threw back the covers and they both sat up looking around. The wispy figure of the girl was once again standing by the desk, this time looking more like Ophelia in the fourth act.
"Spike…"
"I see her too— don't—"
"Lies!" The ghost streaked again "You could have been mine! You should have been mine! Sweet sensitive William…" with the last words she faded away to nothing.
"You want to explain?" Buffy asked reproachfully.
Spike sputtered, "I- I… I don't know her. I don't think I know her…" he looked at her horror struck.
Buffy softened her tone, "She's calling you 'William', do you think you could have known her when you were alive?"
"I- oh come on now… it's not like I was some kind of a lady's man, Pet. I didn't really- hang on a tick…" Spike got up and hastily pulled on his boxers and t-shirt, then he strode over to the light switch, "Shield your eyes, Love."
Buffy did so as he flipped on the light and went to the roll top desk. "You said you saw her here the last time too, yeah?"
"Yeah, I did." Now Buffy got out of bed, she grabbed her underwear and a nightgown, throwing it on as she walked over to Spike and the desk "What are you thinking?"
"I'm not sure… I sort of have trouble remembering a lot of things from my life. Not like it's all a blank or anything, just bits are a little jumbled. Remember when we got here and I said the place seemed familiar?"
"Yeah."
"What if the reason I was having such a hard time placing it was because I was here when I was alive? Before the more extensive renovations were done."
"Meaning everything is completely different…" she nodded, looking around the room, "Ok let's run with that. What's this part about her thinking you should have been her's?"
"No idea…"
"Super freaky ghost lady has the hots for my man and some serious jealousy problems with me, I want to know what to do about it."
Spike opened the desk and started rummaging through it. Aside from a stationary set and a few extra pens it was relatively empty. "There's got to be something here," Spike growled. He slammed a fist down on top of the desk and a little door on the side fell open, "Bloody hell… knew there had to be something!" He grinned.
Buffy watched as Spike fished inside the desk and pulled out a small stack of old envelopes and a very small thin book that could easily fit inside a pocket. Spike took up the little book.
The light in the room flickered, "Getting warm, am I?" He flicked it open. "What the…" inside he found his own neat writing, "Bloody hell…" he whispered.
"What is it?"
Without speaking, Spike handed the tiny book over to her. She also recognized his handwriting instantly, the poems inside were short and simple. Rudimentary really, but there was a sweetness in them as well. "How did-"
"I'm not sure. I had a bunch of those tiny things, used 'em like notepads… must have dropped it or-" he trailed off as he picked up the first of the letters and started to read:
Dearest William,
I am simply overwrought. I have not received responses to my first two letters. I know you have been in contact with my brother. Walter thinks I'm being silly, writing to you at all after uncle's ball. Perhaps I am being too forward. I can't imagine what you must think of me. I'm certain you must know I felt something stir within me the night we danced. You must have felt it too. I've kept the poetry you dropped for me on the dance floor. Though we only just met, I know they must have been for me…
Spike stopped reading, "Bloody hell…"
The second and third letters were very similar. With the exception that they got gradually more intense. The fourth one however was completely different.
My Sweet William,
As I'm sure you know I have been visiting with my uncle for my health. I do enjoy the views here. The doctors say I'm addled but I know I'm simply in love. Staying here in the very place we shared our first dance has brought you closer to me.
My dear William, you will never believe what that horrible Walter is saying! He keeps insisting you have gone missing, presumed dead! They say your poor sweet mother is gone too. My heart simply can not bare the shock. I'm certain he must be lying. He would say anything to keep me from you.
As your friend I can't imagine why. I do know Walter must be the reason I haven't received any reply from you. My dear sweet William, I really must hear from you the very moment this reaches you in London. If I do not hear from you. If you truly are gone, I am certain I must do myself an injury. I must see you. I simply can't bare living in a world without you, my dearest William.
Forever yours, in love,
Eliza
"Bloody hell…"
"You keep saying that," Buffy said irritatedly.
Keeping the envelopes in his hand, he thrust the letters at her, "I huhh… I never knew it had gotten so bad. Her brother was tampering with her mail alright. I asked him to…" the lights flickered again. "I only asked you to dance the first time because he asked me to! The second time was just to be nice. Never thought you'd go off your nut!" The lights flickered again and the painting above the fireplace slammed against the wall."Oh sod off you nutter! I'm not even the same guy you met at that stupid ball anyway and it's not because of Buffy so lay off! In case it's escaped your notice, I'm a sodding vampire!" The lights flickered again. "Bloody brilliant."
"I think it's story time Spike, what do you know?"
"Yeah, Love, I remember the girl. Barely, but I do."
A wailing sound ripped through the castle.
"Spike, Honey…" Buffy said softly.
"Yeah alright. The uncle of an old schoolmate owned this place back in the day. Guy threw a big party, a ball. Mother and I hadn't really been out in public much since my father died, so Walter insisted his uncle invite us. We came. Had a tedious evening and were back in London before we knew it."
"So what happened at the ball?"
"Nothing really. Walter comes up to me. Says his little sis's dance card is empty, could I ask her to dance. So I did, as a favor to him. Later on I see the girl doin the wallflower bit so I figure, why not ask for a second dance?" He looked around the room and growled, "Didn't realize you'd think we were bloody betrothed! Yah loon!" He yelled to the room. He tore the envelopes still in his hand in half then, half again. He kept on tearing; the lights flickering with each rip of paper, "Oh go moan somewhere else, Myrtle…" he mumbled tossing the bits of paper into the unlit fireplace. "Anyway, apparently that was my mistake… that and I must have dropped my sodding notebook!" He yelled again.
Buffy covered his hand with hers, "Go on…"
Spike took a deep breath, "Mum and I were back in London, maybe a week or two, before I got a letter from the girl. She's going on about the evening and what all… What you got to understand here, Love, is that I was a by-the-book society type back then. Trying desperately to fit in. A young girl like that, writing to a man like me, was taboo. I did what any decent guy would. I told her brother." Spike shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I ah, I got one more letter a couple weeks after that. Could tell she wasn't right, but I didn't know how bad it was. Didn't want a scandal. Mother hadn't been well since we left Scotland. She'd become housebound by then. So naturally I told Walter she'd written to me again. Asked him to put an end to it, and keep an eye on the girl. She didn't seem well. Apparently she just kept writing and good old Walter just intercepted them and took her back to Scotland when she didn't stop. Look at the date on that last one, that's over three months after I met Dru. We weren't even in London anymore. She probably stayed in Faith's room, and her brother stowed her letters in the desk there."
"Which explains why she didn't bother anyone else, and why she hates me so much."
"Just imagine how she'd have felt if you hadn't got hurt. We'd probably been shagging most of the time. God I miss Paris."Buffy punched him in the arm.
"Ouch…" he rubbed his arm but grinned, "Alright, so how do we get rid of Eliza the crazy ghost?" The windows rattled and the dresser drawers shook.
"Try explaining you're dead?" Buffy shrugged.
"How's that one for ya Eliza? You do realize what I meant when I said I'm a vampire right?" he changed his face for her, "Been a vampire for a long time now. Before you even wrote that last letter."
"I can see you, you have a soul" she hissed.
"You're right, he does" Buffy spoke up, "Why don't you tell her why you're unique among vampires, Honey."
"I went and got my soul back. I fought for it, for her, for love. What I want to know is how you can see my soul. I've been a ghost, that wasn't one of the perks. So what we're ya, huhh? Maybe a Seer?"
There was a loud shriek, as some of Buffy's things started to fly out of the dresser and the wardrobe doors slammed, "Hey! We just cleaned up your last mess!" She yelled at the ghost as she rushed over to her dresser.
"I never asked for a bloody stalker!" Spike grumbled as he helped Buffy.
"Well on the up side, I guess you know what it's like now," Buffy huffed as she fought to tuck her things back into the drawer, "You did get pretty stalkery…" she said to Spike, "that whole thing with the 'Buffy shrine' was pretty damn creepy… and Buffy-Bot, I mean seriously... Why I'm I with you again?" She teased as she continued to fight with the dresser.
"Oh very funny, Slayer," Spike huffed.
The bottom drawer shot out, suddenly knocking Buffy hard in the shins, "Ouch! That's it!"
Spike helped Buffy to her feet, "You alright?"
"Fine, this bitch has got to go. Giles?"
"Sure, seeing as I got nothing. Bird's not gonna listen to reason that's for sure. I never even responded to any of her letters and she was still obsessed…"
With that, things started flying out of both Buffy and Spike's dresser drawers. Spike caught a pair of jeans in the face. "Thanks! Could use these!" He yelled. He held them up triumphantly just as a pillow hit him in the back of the head.
Buffy scanned the room and had managed to grab the yoga capris she had been wearing earlier when the rest of the throw pillows started to fly around the room. Ducking with their arms over their heads, they ran for the door. They yanked it open together, slamming it behind them in the hall. Faith came out holding a small ax, "What the hell is going on?"
"Spike's old stalker…" Buffy gasped, pulling her yoga pants on under the little nightgown.
Faith dropped her arm carrying the ax and set it down, "You want to repeat that?"
The door started to rattle as though someone was trying to get through, "Giles, now. Talk later." Spike said just as he realized he had a pair of Buffy's jeans instead of his. He swore as he threw them down on the floor.
Faith looked at the jeans and back up at him, smirking at his boxers. These ones were printed with beer bottles and shot glasses. "Fine, I'm in… damn, and here I thought you two were just making up for lost time."
"Started out that way," Spike said ruefully as they made their way down one floor.
As they ran through the library Buffy gaped at Faith, "You seriously thought ALL of that was us?"
"Well how was I to know our shy little ghost was Spike's crazy ex?" Faith retorted as they crossed through the training room.
"She bloody well was not my ex- bugger all!" He growled and headed up the second staircase to Giles's room.
Spike reached the door first and knocked loudly, Buffy stepped in front of him just as Giles opened the door, "What's this all about?" Giles asked groggily. He was dressed for bed and his hair was tussled.
"Our ghost is wrecking our room,"
"Bitch is insane…" Spike huffed as he pushed past Giles. He sat down in a chair holding his head in his hands still only wearing a t-shirt and boxers.
Giles hitched a thumb over his shoulder at him and gave Buffy a quizzical look as she and Faith followed Spike into the spacious room. "We'll explain everything," Buffy responded.
"It's my fault…"
"Don't you dare start that," Buffy said, perching on the arm of Spike's chair.
"I don't mean it like that. I know I did everything I was supposed to do. The girl still killed herself because I didn't respond to her letters. Instead I asked her brother to stop her from sending more…"
"Again, not your fault!" Buffy argued.
"What's this about?" Giles launched into the story of Eliza and her obsession with Spike.
"Have you anything to add, Spike?"
"No, that about covers it… not much to it. I didn't even know she had kept writing after that second one. I just figured Walter talked her round, made her realize I'd only meant to be nice."
"Anything you could be forgetting from the ball? It was a long time ago, could you have possibly said something that she may have misinterpreted as an advance or interest?"
"I highly doubt it, not like I was some suave ladies man. I was a proper little ponce, always trying to do the right thing. I was there with my mum for Pete's sake. I Imagine I thanked her for the dance, probably said some overly polite toft and that was it."
"What about the notebook?" Buffy remembered excitedly, "You dropped your notebook!"
"Oh right, it was in with the letters. The daft little bird wrote about it in one of them, saying I'd left it for her. I bloody well didn't, must've dropped the damn thing and she picked it up."
"Anything significant in there?"
Buffy shrugged, she shot a quick look at Spike and turned back to Giles, "Not really, it was mostly incomplete ideas. The few full poems I saw were pretty unremarkable, nothing like what he's been writing lately," Buffy said, giving Spike's shoulder a squeeze.
"In that case I agree with Buffy, you did everything a man in your position could have done per social norms of the time."
"sodding rules…"
"Yes, quite. So what seems to be the trouble?"
"She's wrecking the place, stuff flying everywhere."
"Not just mine now either, she's just as pissed at Spike now too."
"I wonder what set her off."
"Oh we think we know," Buffy shifted guilty, Spike smirked.
"Ahh yes, no need to go into that then."
"The question is how do we stop it?"
"We could try a general removal spell, however without a witch… if she has grown stronger, we might need to weaken her first somehow."
Spike stood up and snapped his fingers, "That's it, Rupert. When I was a ghost the only thing I had was my will. That's how ghosts manipulate things. Emotion, passion, anger, will… The only way I beat the Reaper was because I had enough willpower to do it."
Giles waved a dismissive hand, "Now isn't the time for poetry."
"That wasn't poetry. I was being literal; he called himself the Reaper. Git was sending souls to hell in his place, tried to send yours truly. It's a long story. What I'm saying is poetry is exactly what we need right now, don't you get it? That's how we break her will."
"By reading her some of your newer poetry… He might be right, it's worth a shot. Spike can read to her, try to wear her down and then you, Faith, and I perform the spell. Easy as pie."
"Only one problem," Spike interjected.
"That is?" Giles inquired.
"Those poems are personal, I never intended anyone to read them except maybe Buffy. You're practically her father… it's…"
Buffy cleared her throat, "So read one of the less, you know…intimate, ones. What about the 'Spark' one?"
Spike shifted uncomfortably, "It's… it's not very… it's short for starters… it's personal…"
"It's a good place to start. If it works, it works. Remember, this was your idea."
"Worth a shot," Faith yawned unapologetically, "Let's do this so we can all get some sleep."
"Faith, the book we need should be on the shelf behind you just there, the green. Ahh yes," he said as she handed it to him. He opened the book to the page, running a finger down the text, "Right, we should have everything here. I'll gather the supplies."
The room was a wreck when they returned but at least nothing was moving. Eliza seemed to have tired herself out. One good thing was that since they had been traveling, neither Buffy or Spike really had much to throw around and most of the weapons they had with them were in the training room.
Faith had gone upstairs to check on the girls. Ava, the oldest of the level three girls, had appointed herself in charge of keeping the rest of the girls upstairs while Eliza had been on the rampage.
Ava walked out into the hallway to meet Faith, "Most of them are back in bed. What was going on?"
"Ghost," Faith said flatly.
"Seriously?"
"Yup. It's no big, probably more in here but this one just earned an eviction. It might get noisy again but this isn't the first time for any of us. We'll get it taken care of and you girls can go back to sleep. In the meantime, just keep doing what you're doing and keep them up here."
"No problem."
"Thanks Ava."
By the time Faith got back down stairs, Giles and Buffy almost had everything set up. Spike bounced on his heels nervously with his poetry journal in his hand. To Giles' great relief, Spike had taken a moment to put on a pair of pants. Spike pulled out the small notebook he had dropped so many years ago. He looked it over again. If he thought his most recent work was maudlin at best then these were pure garbage. He scoffed as he looked them over. Then he had another idea.
"Rupert?"
Giles looked up from the book he was looking over, "Humm?"
"Think it's possible she might have attached herself to this stuff?" He asked as he picked up the letters and the little notebook.
"If they were significant enough, then yes."
He held up the final letter, "This one is pretty much a suicide note, and this is the notebook I dropped, she got so attached to. Burning them should do the trick, yeah?"
"If she is in fact using one of these as an anchor then yes, it would certainly help break her hold on this plain."
He walked over to turn on the gas fireplace and the flames rose. Spike watched the flames as they caught the envelopes he'd thrown in earlier caught on fire and threw the letters in on top, "Right then. Buffy? You see my lighter about?"
Buffy looked around, but Faith was faster, "Over there B, behind you," Buffy nodded her thanks and went to get it then tossed it over to Spike.
"Cheers, Love," he shoved both the notebook and the lighter in his back pocket for safekeeping.
"Alright now, everyone knows what they're doing? Yes?"
Buffy and Faith nodded from opposite sides of the room. Faith was nearest the door while Buffy stood between the two dressers. Giles took up a spot between the now empty wardrobe and the bed directly across from the fireplace. Spike stood in the center of the room between the bed and the sitting area.
He huffed "My cue then," he said softly, then in a louder voice he addressed the ghost, "Eliza, you around? You got an idea of what my mates and I are up to?"
The painting above the mantle gave a feeble knock against the nodded, "There's a lot here I still don't quite understand. Like how you could have taken two dances and a dropped notebook so far out of context to believe there was actually something between us. Those poems you found were never for you. They weren't for anyone..."
"Why are you lying?"
"I'm really not. You remember those little ditty's you picked up?"
"I have each precious word memorized," she said as she materialized in between him and the sitting area. She wasn't just a see through wisp of a ghost now. Now that she was more solid and closer to him he could see her more clearly. Her blue eyes bulged slightly making them look almost too large for her thin face. Her very long blonde hair laid in a lank braid over her shoulder partially concealing her neck. As she turned he could see the shadow of ligature marks around her neck as though she must have strangled or hanged herself.
"Those weren't even finished poems, they were ideas and scribbling. I can prove it to you," he held up his red poetry journal, "May I?"
"Oh please William, I'd love to hear more."
"I'm not so sure you will, Eliza. You see, everything in this book here that's even remotely meaningful is about or for that woman over there," he pointed over to Buffy with the journal, "I'm here in this castle for her, not you. I didn't even know you were here. I'm making a life with her. These poems in my hand are for her, they are about her!"
Giles gave Buffy and Faith a nod to light their candles and the herbs he'd given them, before doing the same himself. He gave Buffy another nod gesturing towards Spike to start reading. While Giles started chanting.
Spike started to pace until he caught Buffy's eye, "You know what Eliza, I'm just going to read one. This is for you Buffy…" he opened his journal to the poem Buffy had suggested.
"It's not a flame, rather a spark,
I carry for my love in this dark.
Endless days and desolate nights;
Devoid of my love to make it right.
A spark of life, a flame that burns,
For her soul next to mine I yearn.
The spark that burns in the light,
Only for her, does my soul burn bright."
"That was beautiful, William…" she said weakly.
"I don't know about 'beautiful' but it's definitely for her. I never wrote so much as a syllable for you, Eliza," he held up the tiny notebook and lit it on fire then threw it through Eliza and into the fireplace. There was a gasping wail that went through the room, but otherwise nothing was disturbed.
"I'd say that did something," Faith said.
Eliza's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. Giles started reciting the incantation louder. The candle flames shot up a few inches and somehow withstood the sudden gust of wind that blew around the room like a small tornado. Eliza screamed as the wind settled around and turned into a bright light. The light seemed to transform her somehow. She stopped screaming, her arms fell to her sides. The light grew brighter around her and just as Giles finished the incantation, everything stopped. The brilliant light surrounding Eliza evaporated into nothing, taking her along with it.
Spike turned towards Buffy, he held his arms out. She looked around the room, "I told you that poem was a good place to start. Good thinking on the notebook," she said, going to him.
"I need a bloody drink…"
"Here, here!" Giles agreed, "Well done, Spike."
"Gee, eh, cheers, Rupert," Spike said skeptically, but pleased with the compliment.
Faith pulled out a fresh bottle of whiskey and four glasses, pouring each of them a shot, "To expelling crazy ass ghost,"
"Cheers," Spike intoned.
"Cheers," the others echoed.
Buffy set her glass down and looked around the room, "Why do these things always have to make such a mess of everything?"
Spike snorted, "Keeps life interesting don't it…" he poured himself another drink and downed it, "Chin-up, Love, we'll get it sorted."
"Again…"
An hour later Buffy collapsed onto the bed gingerly. They had got nearly everything cleaned up but there was still work to do. Spike looked up at her, "We don't have to finish this tonight, Love. It's been a long one. Hell even I'm knackered." He pulled aside the curtain a few inches, "No wonder too. Sun will be up in another hour or so."
"That's only because it comes up super early here."
Spike set down the last of his things in a small pile on one of the chairs. He walked over to his side of the bed pulling off his shirt as he went, "Come on, Slayer, I know you've got plans with Faith today. A little rest is better than none," he pulled the covers down and climbed into bed, patting the space next to him.
Buffy eyed the spot on the bed then looked around the room, "You've convinced me," she said as she crawled in next to him. He wrapped an arm around her as she pressed close to him feeling safe. "Spike?"
"Hum?"
"I love you…" she murmured sleepily.
"Love you too."
A/N: To be continued... Please Read and Review!