Breathe

Spike crumpled in over Buffy's still form in his arms. The gaping hole in his own chest practically nothing compared to the pain of feeling her limp against him. He was so consumed by grief that he didn't even notice the hand lightly gripping the back of his head. Until the fingers gripped harder and dug into his scalp. "Go on, Faith, just leave us alone… I can't—" he shuddered weakly.

Faith looked up from where her eyes had fixated upon the floor a few inches away from Buffy. "It's not me. Spike look."

He shook his head, still unwilling to move.

"Spike?" The hand gripped tighter in his hair, pulling him back a little, "You're crushing me."

He blinked several times, letting his eyes focus on Buffy. Who was looking back at him with wide green eyes. His grip on her increased involuntarily and she gasped. "Babe, kinda hard to breathe." She gasped again.

In his shock Spike nearly dropped her before adjusting his grip on her. "Oww!" She groaned.

"Buffy? Oh thank God. You really had me going there for a minute, I thought I'd lost you again."

"Doesn't exactly tickle," she coughed and a little blood came up with it, "oh that's gross."

He pressed his ear to her chest, "I swear your heart stopped, Pet. It's In working order now, bit fast. Bitch got you in the lung."

She took several shallow gasping breaths. "That would explain it."

"What the hell?" Faith's voice came from behind them, "not that I'm not super stoked or anything but what the hell B?"

Spike looked back at her. "Not now, let's get her back to our room and let her heal up a bit and we'll explain."

"She has a right to know." Buffy gasped again.

"And she will."

She grumbled and started to sit up with a grimace of pain. Spike adjusted himself to help her up better.

"Should she really be moving like that?" Callum asked, shock lacing his voice.

"Fought off Uber-vamps— and ran rooftops, after the last time this happened," she rasped weakly before gasping for breath. She coughed several times before continuing, "Think I can handle this."

Spike supported her over to a comfortable chair setting her back allowing her to breathe easier. "Rest a bit. This one is considerably worse, Slayer. Your heart literally stopped."

"Like it hasn't done that before."

"You know what I mean. Lung is a bit different than the gut."

Callum shook his head. "All right, but I'm with Faith on this one. What's going on, is this some sort of Slayer thing? Is that what all those questions you were asking Guinevere were about before she went mad?"

Buffy and Spike exchanged a look. She coughed again grimacing and glanced over to the spot where Guinevere's head had landed. "Spike's right. We should— get out of here." Her breathing was off. Weak. But she was determined to push through.

Spike gave a nod, "Faith, can you run up and see if you can find a blanket or something to wrap around her? We don't want to cause a ruckus back at the B ."

"Sure, whatever. I'm just glad she's alright."

Faith's head was swimming as she took the stairs at a run. The breath caught in her throat when she saw what was at the top of the stairs. "Huhh, guys! You might want to see this!"

Spike growled, "Cal, go on. See what she found."

Callum met Faith at the top of the stairs. The walls of the upper landing were completely covered with what looked like hellish graffiti. Drawing atop drawing until they were barely legible. "God, what are these?"

"Slayer visions," Faith said flatly. "She must have still been having them… These— and she had stopped fighting. No wonder she was looney toons."

"You mean this is the kind of stuff you dream?"

"Well yeah, but this— Cal, when I get some slayage in, this sort of slides away and they're just dreams. Freaky ones sure, but we get used to them and the slaying sort of calms things down. They don't build up. Not like this. Guinevere was doing some extreme ignoring and it drove her crazy."

"Holy shit."

"You can say that again."

"Oi! Can we hurry this along! Slayer healing notwithstanding, Buffy still needs tending to here!" Spike's voice bellowed up the stairs.

"Right," Faith muttered as she pushed open one of the doors onto a neatly kept bedroom that must have been Guinevere's. She quickly grabbed a dark green wool blanket and the two of them turned back down the stairs.

In a moment Spike had Buffy wrapped in the blanket and was carrying her out of the cottage. Faith and Callum following behind carrying the weapons they'd brought with them, including Lancelot's bloodied sword.

"Spike, you really don't have to carry me," Buffy complained before having another coughing fit that made her wince and gasp in pain.

"What and pass up a chance to be useful? Not likely," he grinned at her as they made their way out of the forest clearing and back into the dimly lit cave. The water spirit was standing sentient at the edge of the water when they came out.

"Am I hallucinating?" Buffy wheezed.

"Shh, no you're not, Love."

"Vampire, the Slayer within is no more."

"I didn't kill her if that's what you're thinking. But you knew what would happen before you let us in didn't you?"

The watery figure inclined her head. "I confess it was foretold. The Lady's demise would come in the form of two like her, and two men, one living, one dead; carrying the sword of Lancelot."

"Could have warned us."

She shook her head wearily. "That I could not."

"Now what?"

"This is the Slayer you spoke of, the one you wish to make your bride?"

"She is."

"She is injured." The spirit moved forward, reaching out a translucent hand towards Buffy. "She is strong despite being weakened so. She should rest. Her body will heal."

"Ta, sort of already figured that one out."

Callum gaped a little at the water spirit, "D-did you need the sword back?" he stammered.

"I do not. I think it would be best if the Slayers kept it, this place may still be of use to you in the future."

Faith glanced down at the sword and back at the entrance that had already closed behind them. "I think I'm gonna be back to check things out if that's alright."

"As you wish my Lady, this place is now at your disposal."

"Ah yeah, thanks. I guess."

Spike gave a quick nod and proceeded towards the raft where he quickly helped Buffy get situated and then they were off heading back towards the Bed and Breakfast. At the mouth of the cave Spike helped settled Buffy down onto a large rock.

"Not going to be a laugh getting up that hill, Pet. How do you feel about a piggyback ride?"

Buffy glared at him and started coughing again, clutching at her chest she nodded, "Fine, you win this time."

"Don't worry, no one here is going to think you're any less of a badass," Faith chuckled darkly. "What was all that in there? The anti-aging questions and this and— What the hell Buff! Didn't you think this might be shit I should know about?"

"It's not like that," Buffy gasped.

"Then what's it like then? What if she had run me through?"

"You probably would be dead. You have a few more years," Buffy coughed again, wheezing.

"We don't have all the answers. We will tell you what we know and piece it together with whatever the hell just happened in there. After! Buffy is in bed."

"Fine."

"Damn right. I don't remember anyone grilling you for answers when you got blown-up."

"You got blown-up?" Callum eyed her dubiously.

"Not exactly. More like the shockwave and some shrapnel. Spike wasn't even there for that."

"Don't get me started on why. At least I was there for the after party," he grumbled.

"Let's hear it for the Big Bang!"

At that Buffy grabbed Spike's arm pulling herself up to stand. "Knock it off you two!" she hissed painfully.

Spike turned, grabbing her tightly, "Come on, Pet," he murmured as he pulled her around to his back. Squatting down he grabbed her legs, pulling them around his waist as she gripped him around the neck and shoulders. "Cal, fetch the blanket."

"Sure, mate." He grabbed it from where Buffy had left it on her rock, "You don't want this now do you?"

"Not cold or shocky are you, Lamb?"

"Less talk. Giddyup."

"Should've seen that one comin'."

Buffy pulled her arms tightly around him. An intense sting radiated through her chest at the movement but she didn't dare release him.

The four of them made the trek up the rocky slope. Callum and Faith followed behind. At the top of the path, Buffy slipped from his back and continued to the B only pausing long enough at the van for Faith and Callum to stow the weapons and get the first-aid kit they had started keeping in there since they first arrived.

Back in their room, Spike settled Buffy onto the bed while Faith gathered a bowl of water and a clean rag. Callum tossed the first-aid kit onto the bed exiting quickly as Spike started to pull her shirt off. He examined the wound and pressed his ear to her chest again, "I'm no doctor but I swear it's sounding better. How are you feeling?"

"Super tired," she took in a tentative breath before coughing again, "Breathing still sucks."

"Blood has stopped. That's good. Not crazy about seeing you coughing up blood."

"Babe, if I can survive this, I think I'm in the clear."

He cupped her cheek, "Looks like we got some time to work through those issues of ours after all."

"Little bit."

His eyes were filled with wonder as he gazed at her. Thankful she was alive. He smiled. Time. They had time. She was alive and they had time. A lot of it, it would seem. "Guess we got some answers tonight, ehh?"

"I'd like some of those too," Faith said as she came in, breaking the moment. She threw some navy blue towels onto the bed and set the bowl of warm water on the little table next to Buffy. Then she sat down on the bed behind Buffy and started cleaning the wound at her back, "Don't let me stop you, go on, I think I need to hear this too."

"She's right babe," Buffy murmured as she slumped into Spike's shoulder, letting him support her while Faith worked.

"We're going to have to call Red I bet."

"She's been thinking this has all been because of her spell and it's not," she paused trying to catch her breath, "Guinevere just gave up— got past her— 26th birthday without— dying first. Which means—"

"Which means that the wankers who started this whole Slayer thing put a cap on your lives with that damned death-wish thing."

"Exactly."

"Someone want to back up here?" Faith groused as she pressed gauze to the wound harder than necessary, making Buffy gasp in pain.

"Yeah, easy, Florence Nightingale, we're patching up a wound not the Hoover Dam." Spike snapped.

Faith looked at her hand pressing on the gauze and released some of the pressure. "Sorry, B," she mumbled, "go on, you were about to start story time."

Buffy took a minute to regulate her shallow breathing, "It goes back to the original spell that created the first Slayer. From what Willow says it has— ah— something to do with the demon they used, like a type of vampire which—" she gasped, "makes sense because—"

Faith nodded, "Vampire Slayer, duh."

Buffy shook her head grasping for breath and tapped Spike on the shoulder.

"I can fill in for a bit."

Buffy nodded.

"Looks like that death-wish thing you all share is there by design and serves a rather twisted purpose. Keep the line rolling with pretty young things."

Faith stiffened, "You want to clarify that?"

"Death is our gift," Buffy interjected, a little stronger this time.

"Right. They seemed to think that if you made it that far it was a job well done and you should just reap your reward, everlasting peace..." his voice trailed off, knowing it was still something that stung at Buffy, knowing what she had lost.

"So is that how Queenie was like a thousand or something."

"Dunno about that really but yeah, bird was up there. She was apparently the one who made it past the expiration date because she stuck her head in the sand instead of fighting the good fight."

"So she stopped aging."

"And apparently can't be killed unless you chop her head off. We're pretty sure that's the reason the original watcher's wrote in that little caveat. Didn't want an immortal woman with super powers wandering round. Basically, these sick bastards decided that no one, including the chosen one, should have eternal life so they instilled a sort of death-wish in Slayers ensuring they would never make it past 25. Probably why they started that whole Cruciamentum thing at 18 too."

"Holy shit."

"That was pretty much my reaction too."

"Okay, so explain Buffy, she's only a few months older than me."

"I'm what happens when you return a gift."

Faith stopped what she was doing, "You don't mean—"

"You too can be just like me if you either get ripped out of heaven or live to celebrate your 26th birthday. Apparently…" Buffy tried a weak parity of an infomercial, but then trailed off with several more raspy breaths and a fresh round of coughs.

Spike noticed the blood had stopped completely now and her breathing eased slightly. As did some of the tension in his shoulders along with it.

"Well shit."

"Yeah, really." Buffy sighed.

Faith got up and took a second to let the news sink in before speaking, "Lay back, your back is done, we got to get the front patched up."

Spike helped ease her back gingerly, "Give me that," Spike held out a hand to Faith, and she handed over the gauze.

"How long have you guys known about this?"

"Not long. Tonight sort of filled in some of the bigger gaps." Spike answered as he tended to Buffy's wound.

"Yeah… I guess I get that…" she said distractedly, and cleared her throat, "You eh, you got this right Spikey-boy?"

"Sure, you go on. Mull things over."

"No kidding," with one last glance back at them, Faith slipped out the door and into her own room where Callum was waiting. He had taken off his shirt and boots and was sitting in the comfortable reading chair in their room, elbows resting on knees and staring at his shirt clutched in his fists. He looked up when Faith came in, "She'll pull through, I gather?"

Faith nodded, "Yeah. Spike's got this. Slayer healing has the rest. She'll probably take it easy for a few days but she'll be fine."

He nodded, "And how are you fairing?"

She sat down heavily on the bed and let out a huge sigh, "Honestly, I have no freaking clue. They just filled me in on some crazy shit going on with Buffy. And apparently all the slayers including me, if I don't bite the big one first."

Callum shifted over to sit next to her, "You want to talk about it?"

His eyebrows rose as she filled him in, and he shook his head. "That's a lot to take in."

"Yeah but from the sounds of it, I kind of have a while before I really have to worry about any of that."

He looked back down at his hands, took hers in his and gazed at their entwined fingers. "Look, Faith, I'm not gonna pretend that this isn't freaking me out. I'm still wrapping my head around what I saw tonight."

She yanked her hand away. "You're going to run for the hills aren't you?"

Callum narrowed his eyes at her and turned to look at her squarely, "Whatever gave you that daft idea?"

"Humm hate to break it to you but tonight was definitely not the weirdest thing we've ever seen. Yeah the whole thing with Buff was pretty intense but it's still just another freaking day."

"Doubt this sort of thing is typical, even for you, Lass." He shot her a small grin.

"I— well not exactly—"

He shoulder bumped her gently before taking her hand again. It had been a long night. "It's alright if you need to talk. I sure as hell could use an ear."

Faith watched him, "Talk?"

"Well yeah, you know, that thing you do with your mouth that helps you express your thoughts?"

"Are you sure we're talking about talking?"

"Normally I'd let you get away with that but I'm serious, Faith. We should talk about this."

"I'm not great with the talking."

"Fine, I'll start. Today started off as a fun road trip. The biggest thing I was worried about was trying to get Spike and Buffy to come round to figuring out what they want to do in the duplex. Then meeting Guinevere was pretty amazing—"He cut off when she gave him a dubious look, then continued, "well it was at first. Until she went crazy and I watched my girlfriend decapitate her after she stabbed Buffy through the blasted chest. Who is apparently going to be fine by the way… which is great news, but holy shit, Lass! It's just been a bloody weird night and I'm still wrapping my head round it all."

She bit back some snappy retort at the vulnerability he was showing, like a shark smelling blood in the water. She didn't want to be a shark. She wanted to be a better person. A better her. Angel had helped her a lot and she was better, but this kind of thing still didn't come naturally to her. Spike's Florence Nightingale jab came back to her.

She took in Callum's hulking muscular form, tattoos rippling across his skin, his disheveled hair hanging limply, and the mix of indiscernible emotions on his face. Here was the man who had practically moved into the castle with her after losing one of her girls and he never said a word. He never complained. He didn't look at her like she would break and he wasn't overbearing. He was just there when she needed him. Now he was asking for the same treatment and she wasn't sure how to do it.

"Did that help?" It was a weak attempt, she knew, but she really was trying.

He bit the inside of his cheek, "A bit. Might take me some time. I mean you've been honest ever since I found out about the whole Slayer thing. But knowing it and seeing it are pretty different things."

"Okay so now I'm thinking you're going to bolt on me again."

He threw up his hands standing up abruptly and turned to her. "God, would you stop that? Can you just for once— it'd be nice to know that you are capable of having a little faith in us."

"I'm not used to this. Having someone I— none of this comes easy for me, ya know? I mean I've never really had too much experience with—"

"The whole lone wolf bit. You've told me." He huffed and sat back down next to her.

She shook her head, "It's not just that, Cal. Every time I would start to get close in the past, I— I didn't just push people away, I made them hate me. It took going to prison and Angel helping me out the whole time I was in there for me to realize what I was doing and I'm still working on changing that. Teaching at the castle, getting as close to Giles as I have, burying the hatchet with Buffy and getting to know the girls— I've changed a lot, but it's hard."

Callum shifted back towards the headboard looking at her. "Not telling me anything new. I'm not asking for a miracle, sweetheart. Just stop acting like I'm going to bolt every time there's a bump in the bloody road."

"Most people would probably say this is more than a bump."

He rearranged one of the pillows to give her a comfortable spot next to him and leaned forward to pull her closer. "Yeah well maybe it's more like a crater but I've been told I've got to adjust for slayer weirdness so why split hairs?"

She actually laughed at that as she eased herself next to him. Stretching her legs out she examined her bare feet as she spoke, "Definitely got the weirdness."

"We both need to deal with it. You saw tonight what happens when you don't."

"I also saw what happens when everyone you love dies."

He shook his head, "Think that probably goes two ways, could also be what happens when you wall yourself away from letting anyone else in after loss."

She pulled her legs up to her chest defensively. "Maybe— I don't want to do that, Cal. I don't want to be like her."

"Then don't," he shrugged his broad shoulders, "you said you wanted to go back in there. Do you think that will help you deal with this?"

"Won't know until I try. If nothing else, maybe I'll find something the brains can use."

"Then we'll go back tomorrow, together."

She let her legs fall as she turned towards him a little more, "I'm going to have to deal with the body, Cal. Are you sure you want to see that?"

"No, but I will. I'm not letting you go back there alone."

"Who's the badass here?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned at her, "No question it's you, babe. This isn't about that."

"So what now?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. But it's like you said ain't it? You've still got some time before any of this affects you directly. All I know is I want to spend as much time with you, as either one of us might have. If that's a day or a thousand years I want to be a part of your life as much as possible."

"So like the whole 'Carpe Diem' thing?"

"Suppose so." They sat quietly for a long time, both lost in thought. "So does this mean this is something that could've happened with any slayer throughout history?" He asked, thinking about the aunt he never knew.

"Apparently. Well no, not really. That's what the death thing is for I guess."

"And that's all slayers, you too?"

"Yeah. I mean—" she broke off. Thinking about her darkest moments when things were the worst. It seemed almost like someone else's life compared to where she was now. She shook her head, "It's different though. We're fighters, it's who we are and we're not going down without a fight. But sometimes there's just— it's like this split second when things get really clear and everything seems— and then the next second it's gone. Like it never happened."

"And my aunt?"

"Yeah, her too. Guinevere is the only one that we have ever heard of in the history of, well ever, to actually get past the termination clause. Hell, even Buffy has died twice. Three if we count tonight but— yeah that's just going to give me a headache."

He leaned towards her, taking her hand, "What about you?"

"Close a couple of times, but no."

Settling his arm around her and he pulled her back onto the bed with him, "Keep it that way, yeah?"

She snuggled her cheek against his chest, getting comfortable, "That's the plan." She ran her fingers over the lines of the bear's head tattooed on his chest and wrapped her fingers around his shoulder following the line work of it's body.

He tilted his head down to watch her and caught her eye. "But right now you just want to shag so you don't have to think about it, don't you?"

"Don't you?" She asked a little gruffly as she gripped him through his jeans.

Callum caught her wrist and pushed her back, pinning her to the mattress. "Sort of beside the point isn't it?"

She grinned wickedly, pressing herself up to catch him with a hard kiss, "It's one way to cope."

"Carpe Diem," he growled as he returned the kiss and let her flip him over to his back, not that he could have stopped her, not that he'd want to. He landed with a hard thud onto the mattress and a fierce grin on his face as they melted into one another. He worked his fingers under the soft fabric of her t-shirt and cupping her breast through her bra. Faith pulled back allowing him to push it over her head and unclasped her bra for him.

They were both topless, clad only in jeans that certainly had to go. She kissed him hard, biting his lip and pulling back a little. He groaned a little and returned the kiss with abandon. Without breaking the kiss Faith shifted back onto her knees enough to unbuckle his jeans and hers. She had no more than undid her zipper when he had already pushed her jeans and underwear down around her hips. She rocked back to remove her jeans and Callum followed unexpectedly. He shucked off his own as he pushed Faith back towards the foot of the bed. She pulled him down to her wrapping her legs around his waist feeling his cock bounce against the inside of her leg and over her center. The anticipation was driving her crazy.

He pulled back a little, grinning, "Something you want, beautiful?"

In response she reached down to grip his cock firmly. His grin widened as he pulled back slightly. "Sorry darlin', patience, please. I wanna go slow with you tonight. Coping with trauma takes time after all," he murmured as he nipped at her neck, making her shudder.

"Are we calling this couple's therapy?"

"God, I love you."

Spike laid on his side propped up against a couple of pillows, watching Buffy sleep. Her breathing was still labored but better. What had been alarmingly ragged painful breaths before now resembled the breathing of someone with just a nasty chest cold.

The wound he had received from the same stab of the sword hurt like hell but he didn't have to breathe. She was the one struggling for breath, and he hated it. She was as immortal as he was, had apparently been ever since she had been resurrected. They just hadn't known for sure. The thought made his head hurt.

It was a long moment before he realized she was looking at him. "Hey there, Goldilocks."

"Hey yourself," she rasped as she adjusted herself on the bed to see him better. She winced as she settled back onto the pillows.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like a seriously thirsty pincushion." She hissed in pain as she adjusted the pillow behind her.

"Thought you might. I managed to scrounge up a pitcher of water for you," he held a glass with a straw sticking out of it for her, "drink."

She ended up only taking a few sips but it was better than nothing.

"Your breathing and heart rate sound a lot better. Think your healing is concentrating on the internal damage."

"Thank you, Dr. Pratt."

He shuddered comically, "Oi! Now that I can do without."

Buffy laughed weakly, "You should get some sleep too mister. Clearly I'm going to heal just fine."

"Not the point is it? I still don't like seeing you hurt."

She sighed, "Okay, yeah, but you were part of the shish kebab too last I checked."

"I'm alright."

Buffy frowned, "How long was I out?"

"Few hours. Sun came up a couple of hours ago. You need your rest, sweetheart."

"Notice the total lack of backflips."

"Ahh huh, let's have a look at that shall we?" He gestured towards the bandage on her chest.

Buffy gave a little nod and watched as he pulled back the bandage with deft fingers. He gently prodded the skin around the wound. It was puckered together although the skin hadn't yet begun to heal. Just as he had said, her body was working from the inside out.

"We should probably try to get some food in you. Do you feel up to it?"

"Are we talking jello?"

He laughed, "I'm serious, you need to keep your strength up. I already had some blood. You sure you don't need anything?"

Buffy considered that. She was thirsty but that was all. She didn't think she could eat anything. "No, just water for now."

He reached over for her glass, holding it up for her again. "You scared the hell out of me, Pet. Why didn't you dodge? A stab like that would have been nothing more than a sodding inconvenience for me," he pulled up his shirt and gestured to his own chest at the wide gash located a little lower than Buffy's much more severe wound.

She turned a tired gaze towards his face, "I was trying to get you out of there, you idiot. Did you see how fast Queen Crazy was?"

"It keeps running through my head. I really thought—"

She reached to cup his cheek and he leaned into the warmth of her hand, "Spike, honey, I'm going to be alright. We both are."

He shook his head a little. She had known of the possibility longer than he had but he wasn't sure if she had taken the time to really consider a life of immortality. "Buffy—"

She squinted a little, worry was rolling off of him in waves, his thoughts simmering at the surface. "I know."

"Do you?"

"Dawn, Giles, Will, Xan… yeah… I've thought about it. I've been thinking about it."

"And?"

"It's just one more layer of weird isn't it? But hey at least we're in this together right?"

"Till the end of the world."

Unless of course the prophecy actually was referring to him and not Angel. For the first time since he had heard about it, he desperately hoped it really was Angel.

The stupid ponce can have his mortal cake and eat it too. He thought venomously.

"What was that?"

He straightened, he hadn't really meant for her to hear that and he didn't know if now was really the best time. He sighed, "Just thinking about Angel and his bloody prophecy. I'd been a mite jealous a while back."

"Is this the one you keep dancing around? The one that could mean you?"

He nodded, "Had wanted it bad before. Beat the shit out of the ponce for a chance at it that turned out to be a sodding fake. But this changes things. He can keep his chance at becoming a real boy if it means I get you."

Buffy let that process in her mind. They had fought over mortality and over her. A life with her and Spike had won in more ways than one. He had her heart, no question about it, even if he would have lost the battle he had won the war. Even if she didn't know about it. "How long have you known about this?"

"Bout a year I suppose, bit longer, maybe. Angel's been working himself ragged for years trying to save enough lives so he can reap his big cosmic reward and I just sort of stumbled into the running by mistake. Rather doubt it's about me," he shrugged, "s'why I didn't say anything about it before. Besides, Angel's been after this particular merit badge for this long and doesn't seem to be any closer. Even if it does mean me, who's to say it won't be in a couple hundred years? It's too vague."

Buffy closed her eyes and opened them again, slowly, "I get why you didn't say anything but I still wish you would have."

"Rather thought you might know bout it already. Bound to be in those files Wes passed on to Willow."

"She hasn't had a chance to go through everything."

"Should probably call the witch, you know. Fill her in."

"Giles too. God, what am I going to tell Dawn?" Buffy sighed.

"That someday you'll be the younger sister?" Spike chuckled.

"Oh yeah that's definitely not going to wig her out."

"All part of the glamorous lifestyle. At least you have a pulse."

"True. Sunlight is a bonus too."

"Oh now you're just being mean."

Buffy just grinned sadly, "Too bad I didn't keep the Gem of Amara. If I knew Angel was going to throw it in the ocean like an idiot, I would have."

He sighed and straightened up, "Yeah well it's gone now. Think maybe you can eat something? Soup maybe?"

"I can give it a try."

He leaned in, kissing her on the forehead. "That's what I like to hear."