Chapter Eleven

"What?" William asked.

Buffy gripped his shoulder and shoved him. "Duck!"

William stumbled and fell to his knees under the force of her push. He looked up and gaped in shock.

Buffy faced off against the vampire, trying to take his measure. He was dressed in a wrinkled suit and covered in dirt.

"New to the area are you?" she asked.

"Urgh!" The vampire yelled, lunging for her.

Nimbly, she stepped aside and stuck out her leg to trip him. As the vampire fell to his knees, she spun and landed a swift kick to the middle of his back.

"Ooof!"

She turned around, her gaze searching for a weapon.

"Spike! Stake!"

William didn't hesitate. He knew what she needed and spotted an ancient picket fence encircling a family plot; he broke off a fence post and cracked it over his knee.

"Slayer, catch!"

Buffy turned and caught the stake and she faced the vampire who had risen and was weaving on his feet.

"For a southern vampire, you're not too impressive," she mocked, circling him. "I have to admit, I expected more."

"Prepare to die, Slayer," the vampire snarled.

Buffy stood, cocked her head and eyed him up and down. "Nope -not on the job," she said. Moving as quick as lightning, she spun and delivered a kick to the vampire's throat. He went down like a felled tree and in one smooth move, Buffy rammed the stake through his chest. "I'm retired," she bit out and stepped back quickly as the vampire exploded in a cloud of dust.

She took a deep breath, dusted off her hands, and tilted her head from side to side to release the tension in her neck. She turned around and stopped when she spotted William standing in a pocket of moonlight, staring at her in shock.

"William?"

He reached up and ran his fingers over the crease between his brow and over his forehead. He was panting slightly and sweating in the cool night air. As she walked towards him, she noted he was shaking.

"William?"

His gaze found hers.

"I was one of them?"
She jogged the last steps to his side, needing to be near him, needing to make him understand. She reached him and gently stroked her hand across his brow.

"Here, yes," she whispered. She dropped her hand and covered his heart. "But, William, here, Spike was always different."

"Oh my God," he shuddered.

She slipped her arms around him, not thinking of his inevitable withdrawal and rejection. She only thought of holding on to him tightly enough to keep him from unraveling.

"Jesus, Buffy, you're for real," he said, pressing his face into her hair and running his hands up and down her back.

She bit back a laugh. "Yeap. Real deal. That's me."

"The vampire was real."

"Yeah, one of the many perks of the job!"

His shock subsided, but he didn't release her.

"Everything, my dreams, my novels, all these things in my head, they're all bloody real, yeah?"

Buffy pulled back slightly and looked up. "Yeah."

He drew her back into his arms, nestling her close. His grip on her tightened and his breathing shifted deeper. He ran his hand down her hair and pressed his lips to her cheek. "You were magnificent," he murmured.

"Thanks," she replied. "You were pretty quick there with the stake."

He grinned, a cocky Spike grin of old. "Glad to be of some service, pet."

She slid her hands up his arms and looped them around his neck. Pressing closer, she felt the evidence of his true reaction to the skirmish. Apparently, she thought to herself, some things really hadn't changed.

"If I kiss you," she said quietly and seriously. "Are you going to push me away?"

He stared down at her, his gaze searching her face.

"I believe you," he said finally. "I may not know it in my head, but I know it my heart that what you've said is true."

She closed her eyes, squeezing back the tears.

"Thank you."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers in a deep, hard kiss. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her feet off the ground and stumbled back until they hit the low brick wall that circled a plot.

The air exploded from Buffy's lungs in a gasp and William stopped.

"You alright, love?"

"Don't stop," she begged. "Please, don't ever stop."

He grinned and lifting her, set her on the brick wall. He settled between her hips and covered her mouth with his.

"More comfortable?"

She nodded, her lips smiling against his.

William shrugged out of his leather jacket and shirt and tossed it to the ground and went to work on hers. Before long he had her jacket and sweater on the ground. The moment their hot skin pressed together, William closed his eyes and went quiet. He could feel his heart pounding in rhythm with hers and for some inexplicable reason, this tiny little thing – the thump, thump, thump - of their hearts beating in unison brought tears to his eyes.

"William?"

"I'm fine," he whispered, running his lips down her jaw and over her neck. His mouth fastened on the pounding pulse in her neck and he flicked it with his tongue, sending a bolt of desire zinging straight to her womb. "Everything is better than fine."

He ran his hand over her breast cupping it and gently caressing it. With a quick flick of the wrist, he unsnapped her bra and tossed it to the ground. With a groan, he kissed a hot trail down to her nipple and suckled gently.

Buffy cried out and arched her back, pressing into his mouth and his hands, trying to get closer. Her hands cradled his head to her and she bent her lips and kissed the top of his head.

"William," she whispered softly, all her love and all her need for him feeding that one small whisper. One word. A name.

"Oh, Buffy," he responded. Leaving her breast, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

She reached for the belt buckle on his pants and tugged on it, loosening his pants and pushing them to his ankles.

"You sure about this?" he asked.

"God, yes," she insisted and William reached down and divested her of her pants. He cupped his hands under her bare bottom, protecting her from the rough, stone wall. Wrapping her legs around him, she guided him to her.

William sank into her heat, gasping. He clutched her to him, his fingers digging into her flesh.

She gasped and tears smarted her eyes at the familiar sensation. It was familiar and yet… William's warmth and the supple feel of his smooth, sweaty skin against hers were new.

He thrust against her, sliding in and out, gritting his teeth against the sensation of her tight heat. He stumbled, losing his footing and they fell hard, back against the stone wall. Buffy held her grip, not letting him go. She was never, ever letting him go again.

"Don't stop," she begged.

He stole her lips in another kiss, their tongues picking up the rhythmic dance of their bodies. His teeth nipped her lip, hard and she gasped, her entire body tightening around him.

"Christ, love," he moaned. "You're going to kill me."

He lifted her higher and shifted the angle of his thrust and pushed harder, swiveling his hips. Buffy's body went completely still. She held herself tight against him and stared down into his eyes. She slipped one hand down his shoulder and covered his lips with her fingers. She didn't want him to say a word.

"I love you," she whispered.

He thrust one last time, and she closed her eyes, burying her face in his shoulder, muffling her scream as her release exploded.

William felt her tightening and release against him and he reached his own climax. Pushing her hair aside, he pressed a hot open mouth kiss on the pulse pounding in her neck. He felt her heart beat surrounding him, under his tongue and teeth and around his shaft. As he came, time splintered and flashed and he saw himself bent over her in the shattered ruins of a house; time splintered and flashed and they lay tangled in red satin sheets; time splintered and flashed and they lay curled up together, fully clothed, asleep.

"Aah…" He collapsed against her, barely standing.

Buffy's legs slid shakily to the ground and she clung to him.

"God," she panted, trying to catch her breath.

"Right, we've done this before," he said, taking a deep breath. "In a cemetery that is."

She chuckled weakly, pressing a kiss to the scars over his heart. "Yeah, a few times."

He tucked her close, loving the feel of her cooling, damp body against his. He glanced around the cemetery. "Let's not make a habit of it. I've got a nice house and a king sized bed now."

"Maybe we'll keep this for special occasions," she replied.

He paused, considering it.

"No."

She leaned against him, laughing. "Okay, then let's go back to your place."

As she stepped away from him, she stumbled and he caught her.

"You going to be able to ride home?" he asked in concern.

Eying him up and down and taking in his semi aroused state, Buffy grinned. "Don't worry. I'll be able to ride home."

***

The journey was rather uncomfortable but Buffy wasn't about to complain. One complaint would have resulted with William hovering in concern and insisting she sleep alone in her own bed.

But the perfect amount of wincing ensured a nice long shared shower and massage to work out all those kinks caused by sex in cemeteries. Sex in a large comfortable king sized bed wasn't a problem at all.

It was late when Buffy's cell phone rang.

She reached out in the dark and grabbed it.

"Hello?"

"Buffy, it's me."

"Hi Willow," she answered coldly. She had not forgotten their last conversation.

"We, uh, I looked into that tattoo that you'd faxed."

Buffy sat up, holding the blankets up to her chest. William stirred in the dark and reached out for her. He rested his head against her hip, pressing a sleepy kiss to her skin and then he curved his arm around her thighs. Buffy ran her hand over his hair, marveling.

"And?"

"Well," Willow began. "The phoenix a pretty common symbol in ancient magic and mysteries. It's associated with resurrection spells because of the legend. You know, phoenix rising from the ashes and all that."

Buffy nodded. "Ok, I can see why William would have that tattooed on his body. The connection between the phoenix and Spike is pretty obvious. But Willow, the problem is that he doesn't remember having it done. Have you figured out the connection between the tattoo and the Shanshu prophecy?"

"See Buffy, this is – this is where things get complicated."

"What do you mean?"

"Giles is on his way to Charleston."

"What?" Buffy asked. "Why?"

"Because – this isn't about the Shanshu prophecy."

Silence.

"Buffy?"

"It isn't Shanshu? What is it?"

"We aren't sure."

TBC