Author's note: thank you for reading To Be Hers! This is a slow burn, and early chapters lean heavily on canon events and dialogue for a while before we start to really dive into the newer content. These chapters primarily give background on what Buffy and Spike are thinking and feeling, and provide some context and slight changes to their relationship and actions in season 5 and forward. I'll be noting at the ends of chapters which episodes I've pulled from!

—

My soul is wrapped in harsh repose,

midnight descends in raven colored clothes,

but soft… behold!

A sunlight beam

cutting a swath of glimmering gleam.

—

Echoes of another life came unbidden to his mind as his own beam of sunlight knocked him on his ass. Bloody Slayer , Spike grumbled to himself.

Bad enough that he'd woken in a sodding government cell practically neutered by some microchip in his brain, and had to rely on the Slayer and her Slayerettes to take pity on him to survive, then he'd gone and fallen in love with the bitch? And dreams in the privacy of his own crypt were one thing—a man could at least keep his own secrets, you know? But now the bloody poet he'd forced down deep inside was trying to resurface. His Big Bad reputation was as dust as if the Slayer had staked him herself.

"Thinking in sodding poetry now, fucking hell!" He muttered as he scrambled to his feet, kicking out at the fledge Buff—no, the Slayer—had tossed his way.

"What was that, Spike?" Came the ever-perky reply as the Slayer righted herself and plunged a stake into a snarling vampire's heart. Bloody hell, the fire in those pretty green eyes when she slays are enough to drive a man—NO!

Choking on a mouthful of dusted minion, he tried to brush the question aside. "Nothin', Slayer. Jus' got me by surprise, that's all. Go on—more nasties to slay!" Spike pushed past her, further into the cemetery, well aware of the confused frown that adorned Buffy's features. He forced himself to think of anything other than the adorable way her nose must be crinkling—kitten poker, Pockla demon, Slimefolk, Angelus' big shiny forehead—there, that did the trick.

He found himself wandering the familiar path towards Revello Drive. Joyce was always good company and if the Slayer was patrolling, Joyce and the Bit could use some watching over. Sure, vampires couldn't get in without an invitation, but Spike knew better than most that vamps weren't the only things that went bump in the night in good ol' Sunnyhell. With that thought, he sped up his walk a little, discarding his half-smoked cigarette.

—

A loud noise from upstairs caught his attention, and not bothering to hide the photographs in his hands, Spike bolted up the steps from the basement. There was no time for shame when one of the Summers women was in danger, he decided. "Slayer? You hear somethi- ?"

At the top of the stairs, he was immediately greeted by a sight that became the new top of his list for avoiding thoughts of sexy slayers. Whatever-the-fuck kind of demon he was faced with was scuttling along the walls and ceiling, looking like a bloody nightmare. "Demon! Gotta kill it! Here for Mom!" The Slayer panted, and Spike sprang to action, dropping the photos in his hands and diving for the kitchen knives.

Several minutes of shouting, kicking, biting and bruises later, Spike found himself laying on his back with the wind knocked out of him. Sitting up on his elbows, he watched as Buffy pinned the demon and drove a wicked-looking blade through its back before collapsing on top of it breathlessly. With a grunt, he heaved himself to his feet and bent to offer her a hand, pulling the exhausted warrior up to stand beside him.

Hands still connected, they turned as one to the door to see a team of heavily armed soldiers storm in, with Riley Finn on their tail, and Spike felt a spark of glee as he witnessed the exhaustion in his Slayer burn away, replaced by anger at her supposed love. "What the hell is this, Riley? My mom has to rest for surgery! She's sick! You can't be bringing your soldiers into my house without asking, and where the hell have you been , by the way?"

Spike squeezed her fingers reassuringly, because yes, their hands were still connected, and no, Riley had not missed that fact, and yes, Spike was delighted by this.

"Buf—" Finn was immediately cut off by Buffy again, and Spike reluctantly released her hand to witness her rampage as she quickly and efficiently ousted every last military operative from her house, while Finn stood helplessly in place.

"Missed quite the show, soldier boy. We had a good fight on our hands, Buffy and me. But you know our girl—powerful one, she is," he couldn't resist prodding. Stupid Finn and his stupid military ruined a perfectly nice moment with the Slayer. Could have even held her again, maybe checked in on her mum and Little Bit, made everyone some hot cocoa, if Captain Cardboard hadn't burst in to ruin the day.

His mood brightened a bit as the last of the military gits was removed by the scruff of his shirt, and the Slayer rounded on Finn next. "You too, Riley. Out. Mom needs rest."

"What about him? " Riley asked, sounding very much like a pouting child and glaring in Spike's direction.

Buffy's eyes flashed dangerously again, and Spike found himself quickly stifling a snicker. Wouldn't do to go getting himself scolded now too. "I need to talk to Spike about things first, since he actually was here to fight the demon with me. Now go, Riley. Good night."

The moment the door closed behind the Boy Scout, Spike watched his Slayer seem to deflate in front of his eyes. It was clear from her red-rimmed eyes that she'd been crying before the demon attack, and she was about to again. All the fire burned down to just embers and she was left looking exhausted, scared and very much like a young woman with a sick mother. Soul or no, he still had a heart, and Spike remembered his own mother's illness. He knew the fear and the uncertainty, and that was without being a Slayer on top. Bloody hell, poor girl.

"C'm'ere, pet, that's it," he said softly, pulling Buffy gently to his chest as a sob fell from her chest. When he saw Dawn's face pop around the stairwell, he very subtly shook his head and gestured her to her room, waiting for her to scamper off before he carefully moved Buffy to sit on the living room couch with him.

"'S okay now, Slayer. Your mum's safe in bed, Little Bit's in her room, and no one got hurt 'cept some bites and scratches on ol' Spike here, and we know that won't kill me. Everything is okay for tonight. You kept everyone safe, Buffy." He cooed soft reassurances, feeling his heart somehow breaking and mending all at once as the love of his un-life sobbed in his arms.

Slowly, as he rocked her, the sobs faded to sniffles and ragged breaths and her muscles began to relax. Spike gently untangled himself and pulled the couch blanket around the Slayer, who somehow seemed even tinier than normal now. "Wait here, love. Be right back."

Listening to be sure the other Summers women were sound asleep, he made his way to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil. Rummaging through the cupboards, he found a mug with a little cartoon frog on it that made him chuckle, and tossed a bag of chamomile tea and a spoonful of honey in. He waited in the kitchen for the tea to steep and cool to a drinkable temperature—sure, Slayer healing, but he didn't want to burn his emotionally fragile Slayer, now did he?

Back on the couch, Buffy had pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders and had her knees hugged to her chest, staring out the window into the dark night. "Here, Slayer. Some tea—should calm your nerves. Let you sleep tonight. Figured I could stay if you want to talk for a bit, or I could keep watch outside for any nasties, if that's alright?"

And as Buffy's shaky hands wrapped around the offered mug, Spike found himself thinking: who needs the Gem of Amara to walk in the sun when even the tiniest hint of a teary smile from Buffy is brighter than any ray of sunshine?

"Thanks, Spike," she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse from tears and shouting. "I think I'd like to be alone tonight. But… thank you. For helping. With the demon. And….the tea," she mumbled, taking a test sip and finding her tea the perfect temperature.

"'Course, Slayer. Anything you need. Honest—anything at all, you let me know. I'll be outside 'til sunrise, and you know where my crypt is 'f you need anything after that. Kiss your mum good luck for me before surgery, will you?"

And true to his word, Spike stayed outside the house on Revello Drive until sunrise. And if he waited until after sunrise, until he heard the Slayer's breathing change to a waking pattern, and he got a little singed on his way into the sewer, so what?

—

author's note: the poem at the beginning of this chapter is Spike/William's poem, which first appears in s5e7 "Fool for Love" and later in its entirety in Angel. The Queller demon incident is from s5e9 "Listening to Fear"