'Til It's Gone

‘Til it’s gone
By AnitaB
Disclaimers and other info in chapter one.
Thoughts and flashbacks in / /
Chapter 2: Admitting it

"Oh, my god, what have I done..." Despite the words, Buffy wasn't asking a question as much as berating herself for the act of kissing Spike. /And enjoying it thoroughly/ a voice in her head reminded her. It wasn't helping that the voice was right. She had liked, she had liked it a lot. The strength of his arms holding her tight had felt...safe, right. He'd said that Dawn felt safe with him and Buffy knew she was. Spike had proven what he'd do for Dawn. But why did he have that same effect on Buffy.

/Because he loves you. Everything he's done for Dawn was really for you. You know that./

That damn voice wasn't helping again. Buffy was trying to reason it away, to forget what happened on the porch and that voice talked like she wanted more. Like she wanted Spike. Like she might love Spike.

No. The voice was wrong. Buffy didn't want him. She hadn't liked the way he'd whispered her name. the gentle way he'd touched her cheek. The soft sound of the words 'I love you' he'd murmured into her hair. The strength of his arms around her. The way his voice sounded saying 'Please don'.'

She didn't like any of it. Buffy would simply choose to let him die if she didn't owe him so much for protecting Dawn. That was the only reason she'd agreed to help him. The only reason, really.

She was only anxious about tomorrow because it was time to pay back her debts to him.
After tomorrow Buffy wouldn't owe Spike anything anymore. She'd never have to see him again if she didn't want to. And she didn't want to see him again. Did she?

" "So are we gonna help Spike?"

Buffy looked up at the sound of Dawn's voice. Now was not a good time. Buffy had almost convinced herself and Dawn would try to change her mind, she wanted Buffy to give in to this sick attraction to Spike. "I thought I told you to go to bed, Dawn."

"I thought I told you not to hurt him, Buffy."

Buffy stood up a little angrily. "I would nev..." She stopped suddenly. She couldn't possibly have meant what she'd almost said. "I said I would help him, isn't that enough?"

"No, but it'll do for now, I guess."

"What, Dawn, what more would be enough? What more should I, the Slayer, give to Spike, a centuries old vampire who's killed god knows how many people?"

"Buffy, why are you so blind? Spike isn't that person anymore. He's change."

"Changed? He's been fixed, that's not real change, Dawn."

Dawn moved to stand in front of Buffy, looking down to meet her eyes. "That isn't it, Buffy, and you know it. He's been fixed. He's changed, and he's in love with you. Doesn't that mean something?"

/Does it mean something? Spike says he loves me. Dawn thinks he loves me. Spike thinks I feel something for him. He's risked his life on that certainty more than once. I could have killed him, but I never did. Why couldn't I kill him?/ Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stop in
her chest and her mind froze in realization. /I feel something for Spike./

"Doesn't he mean anything to you?"

Buffy looked at her, wide-eyed with panic and confused: and she lied. "No, of course not. Now, I told you to go to bed." Ushering Dawn through her bedroom door, Buffy retreated into her own room, sitting on the edge of her bed and clutching the pillow.

She couldn't deal with this right now. Sleep. Sleep and forgetfulness. By morning, Buffy was sure she'd be back in control of herself. Sliding between the sheets, she tried not to think of the feel of Spike's skin under her hands.

Her dreams that night were less than helpful. Now that she knew how a real kiss from him could feel, the dreams were better, or worse, than ever. Every detail sharp and clear, Spike held her all night. His skin against hers, his hands touching her. His mouth caressing hers breathlessly. The tender slide of his lips along her throat, whispering words of love against her pulse. Buffy woke with the feel of Spike's hair in her hands. The taste of his kiss on her lips. The ache of desire riding her body. The sound of his name on her lips echoed in the room as she sat upright in bed. "Oh, no. What's wrong with me?"

And that damned voice in her head had an answer. /You're in love, girl, that's what's wrong with you./ Silence in the room and in her head taunted her. Buffy didn't have a reply to that.

***


"Spike? Spike, we're here." Dawn flung open the door and walked into the crypt ahead of Buffy and the gang. Taking a few more hurried steps, the tone of Dawn's voice changed, taking on notes of panic. "Spike!" She ran, kneeling down to touch his face. "Buffy, he's hurt."

Running into the room, Buffy's eyes fell to a horrible sight. /Spike,/ He was laying in a puddle of his own blood, the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his stomach surrounded by a bloody lump of cloth she could only assume had been his shirt. /Oh, God, no./

"Spike?" Forcing herself to move more slowly, Buffy went to his side, sinking to her knees beside Dawn. "Spike, wake up." At the edge of her senses, she could feel the others file into the crypt and move to Spike. "Come on, Spike. Wake up and tell me who did this to you so I can get them for you." One hand on his cheek, Buffy fought to keep the emotions she wasn't ready
to deal with out of her voice.

"Buffy? Little bit?" Spike weakly nuzzled Buffy's hand with his lips and squeezed Dawn's fingers. "Harm," he coughed, his body jerking harshly. "Harm did it. Shot me, called a vengeance demon. Jealous of you." His eyes focused on Buffy, a wealth of emotion easily seen in the gaze.

"Spike," The emotion she'd been fighting broke through into her eyes, the sight of him blurring slightly, like it was seen through a sheet of water.

"Buffy," Willow got her attention with a sharp note in her voice and a commiserating face. "We can break the spell, but he's lost a lot of blood. He won't make it without..." she paused, searching for the right phrase. "a donation."

Blood, Spike needed blood or he'd die. And blood he was going to get. "Do it, Willow." Buffy pulled Spike up to lay across her lap. "Dawn, get me his pocket knife." She pointed at the leather duster across the room and, watching Dawn fetch the blade, readied herself for the cut.

"Here it is, Buffy."

As Dawn handed her the knife, Buffy felt Spike move against her like he was shaking his head. In the background she could see the others preparing to break the bleeding spell. But really all her attention was on Spike. She leaned closer to hear him and, if she were honest with herself, just to be closer.

"Spike,"

"No, Buffy, don'. Don' want hurt you."

Ignoring his protest completely, Buffy looked to Willow. "What do we do?"

"He needs blood, as much as you can give. Dawni, when I tell you, you'll have to pull out the arrow." Turning to Tara and Giles, she asked. "Ready?"

As three voices began the spell, Buffy pressed the knife-edge into her skin, deep enough to start a stead flow. "Drink, Spike," Holding her wrist to his lips, Buffy held him closer. "Drink,"

His eyes locked to hers, Spike kissed the palm of her hand before opening his mouth over the cut in her skin. She felt a shiver run down both their spines at the intimacy of this, this act of sharing blood -- the feel of his lips and tongue feeding at her skin.

Buffy's heart flinched when Dawn pulled the arrow out and Spike muffled a pained sound against her skin. Her vision blurred even though she kept her eyes locked on his face. Some of his strength was returning: he raised one hand to hold her wrist to his mouth.

"It's working."

Buffy couldn't help but feel the same relief and joy so obviously held in Dawn's voice. Finally tearing her eyes from his, Buffy marveled at the sight of the wound in his stomach closing.

"Spike,"

Savoring one last taste of her blood and placing one last kiss on her skin, Spike let go of Buffy and moved to sit up. He failed, falling back into her arms.

"Relax," Willow sat in front of the two of them. "It worked, but you need time to recover."

"And the spell?" Spike shifted unconsciously tol mol more of Buffy's body along his own, thoroughly enjoying her warmth along the skin of his back.

"Broken, and it shouldn't be able to be recast either. We added a warding."

"Yeah," Tara interjected. "You should be immune to harmful spells for a little while."

"Thanx," Awkwardly raising himself up, he braced his upper body on his arms. "What took you so long. The niblet's been outta school for over an hour."

"Hey, we just saved your life and you're complaining about our timing?" Dawn slugged him on the shoulder then leaned in closer to hug him, smiling over his shoulder at Buffy. "He's gonna be fine."

"Yeah, right back to his old self." Buffy's voice was both very relieved and somehow vaguely cynical.

Pulling out of Dawn's hug, Spike lifted Buffy's wrist to his lips with heat in his eyes. He ran the tip of his tongue along the cut in her arm, tasting her skin as much as the blood, seducing her with his gaze. "You should wrap this. No need to waste good blood." The feel of her hand
trembling in his and the sight of the expression in her eyes sent sparks throughout his body.

Her eyes fell to his lips as she took a trembling breath. Pulling her hand from his, Buffy stood up sharply, brushing her wrist against her shirt as if wiping off his touch. "Yeah, I'll have to do that." Walking further across the room, Buffy fidgeted nervously. "Well, we should go and
let you get some rest. You still need to recover."

Ev Everyone in the room watched her intently, each with a different expression. Tara and Willow looked at her with varying degrees of concern. Giles's expression held puzzlement. Dawn's smile--growing by the second--was unmitigated amusement. Spike's gaze held desire and a note of satisfaction. Dawn, however, was the first to act.

"Yeah, we should go." Moving to stand in front of Spike, Dawn pointed a warning finger at him. "Now, you're going to stay in bed, drink lots of blood and not go out during the day for a while, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Spike gave her another hug and whisd ind in her ear. "Thank you, little bit." Pulling back he tilted up her chin. "I'll see you soon, all right?"

"You better," Dawn turned back to the others with a command on her face. "Let's go." Puzzled, but blood soaked and wanting to clean up, the others followed her out. Buffy followed last, having a hard time keeping her eyes off Spike. His gaze on her didn't help. A step outside the crypt door, his voice continued not helping.

"I'll see you soon, Luv."


Buffy stopped and, without turning, threw the words over her shoulder, "No, you won't, Spike."

***

/No you won't, Spike. Not unless my sister changes my mind. How does this happen to me?/ Buffy stalked through the cemetery carrying a bottle of blood. /Buffy, please take this to Spike. He needs to recover and he won't do it if he's a couple pints low./ There were times that Buffy almost hated Dawn and this had to be one of them. Because of her, Buffy was in the cemetery at midnight, about to see the vampire who was trying to seduce her. Yeah, she could almost hate Dawn.

Maybe if she were lucky, he wouldn't be home. She could leave the blood in his fridge and sneak out without seeing him. Knocking on the crypt door, Buffy opened it a few inches.

"Blood bank delivery." She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't there, good. Hurrying to the fridge, she put the blood away and turned around to find herself less alone than she thought she was, jumping slightly.

"A little off your guard tonight, Slayer? You must have something on your mind." He had that look on his face-the look that said need, want. That attentive gaze searched for and found her every weakness to him. It was the look he'd had on his face when he'd said they had heat and desire between them. And damn him, he'd been right. "Is it me?"

"Is, is what you?"

"Is it me on your mind? Are you thinking of me, luv? Are you thinking about us?" He moved closer, muscles tense and watching her like a predator does prey.

No, and don't call me that." It was a outright lie and they both knew it. Buffy tried to sound like she meant it. Like she really didn't shiver inside when he called her 'love'. "How many times have I told you there is no us?" Taking a step backwards as he moved closer, Buffy felt the fridge against her back. There was nowhere to go. Not that she could really convince her body that she wanted to leave.

"And how many times have your actions told me otherwise." Bracing one hand against the fridge, Spike held his body inches from hers, feeling the trembling she couldn't stop. "You saved my life, Why?"

"Because of what you've done for Dawn. I owed you."

He stopped her with the soft stroke a fingertip over her lips. "No, that's not it. You helped for that, but it was more." His eyes eagerly focused on hers, tracing his fingertip back and forth over her lips. "You opened a vein for me, fed me your own blood, Buffy." Lifting her bandaged wrist, Spike nuzzled her palm, kissing he skin. "I can still taste you, luv. It meant something to
us and I want you to say it."

Trembling at the feel of him, his body close to her own, his lips on her skin, she tried to be strong, to resist. "It meant nothing."

"Liar," He stroked the tip of his tongue over her skin, watching her eyes fall closed in pleasure. "You feel it, Buffy. the connection between us when we touch," Pressing his body hard against hers, he groaned and treasured the small sound she made. "When we kiss," Wrapping one arm around her waist, Spike pulled her harder against him and pressed his lips to hers.

She couldn't help it. She'd tried to be strong, tried to resist but she couldn't. It was too much, it felt too good to resist. Buffy's arms wrapped around his neck of their own accord, her hands reveling in the texture of his skin. Her lips parted on a sigh, eager to taste him again, as her nails clenched in shoulders. He felt so good. The lean muscle of his arms held her tightly. The hard strength of his body pressed hers against the fridge. His tongue gently teased her own, deepening the kiss and coaxing her into more active participation. The second he got it, Spike pulled back, feeling her body follow his, try to reestablish contact.

"Tell me that didn' mean something to you. It did, didn' it." Stroking her cheek with his fingertips, he smiled into her eyes. "Tell me you want me, Buffy."

She more than wanted him, Buffy ached for him. An intense need to feel all of him was flowing through her veins as her blood was flowing through his. "I --I want you, Spike."

"God, luv, I want you so much, Buffy." Clenching his hands on her upper thighs, he lifted her against the fridge and pressed his body between her legs. One hand glided up her body to fist in her hair. "I wanted this for so long." He pulled her lips to his, kissing her ravenously as his hands began to roam her body.

Winding her legs around his waist, Buffy eagerly kissed him back, threading her fingers through his hair. This was how it was supposed to feel. An urgent, needy, desperate search for skin, contact. "Spike, please."


He pulled back, hands cradling her face and lower body pinning her to the fridge. "Tell me what you want, love."

"I want to feel you. I need to touch you, please." Her hands restlessly stroked along all the skin they could reach, his face, arms and neck, trailing the sharp edges of her nails. "Now,"

Wrapping her body more firmly around his, Spike lifted her up and carried her to the flat stone slab. Lowering Buffy down onto her back on top of his leather coat, he leaned down with an arm braced on either side of her. "If you want to stop this, you better run now, Pet, 'cause I'll give you everthin' you want and more." Rocking his hips into hers, Spike left no doubt in her mind about how much he wanted her.

Leaning up, Buffy trailed her lips along his throat, biting not so gently at his pulse point as her hands ripped his shirt open from collar to hem and began her first exploration of his body. A harsh groan escaped him at the scratch of her teeth and the touch of her skin. The urgency of her
response to him sent need racing through his body.

"Buffy, you're wearing too bloody much clothing." Standing, he pulled her up to sit with her legs on either side of him. Catching her hands as they moved for his belt, Spike growled in her ear. "I want to touch you, luv." Pinning her hands to the stone, he sucked at the skin of her throat. "Don' move." Kissing her softly, he began unbuttoning her shirt, stroking each little bit of newly exposed skin. "You feel so good, Buffy."

She groaned, disobediently reaching for him and deepening the kiss. "Spike,"

Obeying the pull of her, Spike moved into her arms, his hands pushing her shirt aside to feel the silky skin of her back against his arms. Long years of practice had created a certain level of expertise for him. Without once losing his hold on her, Spike worked both her shirt and bra off her body, groaning deep in his chest at the feel of her wrapped around him, naked to the waist.
Taste, he needed to taste her. Pulling back from her kiss, Spike pushed her down to the stone slab, trailing his lips down her neck.

"Spike, please," Her hands gripped his hair guiding his mouth lower. Buffy needed more, and Spike groaning the words 'I love you' against her skin felt better than she wanted to admit. Similar words pressed at the back of her throat as his mouth fed hungrily at her breast.

"Sweet Buffy," Switching his attention to the smooth skin of her waist, he roughly peeled the clothing from the lower half of her body. "Bloody hell, luv, you are so beautiful." Rubbing his hands up her body, Spike laid down in her arms, groaning at the feel of her legs around his waist.

"Spike, I need you." Nimble fingers caressed down his muscled stomach on their way to his belt, jerking it open with a twist of her wrist. He was so close and Buffy's body ached to feel his, to hold him inside herself. Fumbling hurriedly, she pushed a hand past the cloth to touch him, wrapping her fingers around his hard length.

"God, Buffy," He arched helplessly into her touch, groaning harshly against her throat. She felt so good touching him, holding him. "I love you so much, Buffy. You feel so good, luv." Catching her wrist, Spike pulled her hand away, moving back to strip off the rest of his clothes. The sight of Buffy spread out naked before him, watching him eagerly, wanting him, sent love and desire coursing through his body. Spike had never needed anyone as much as he needed Buffy. And now she wanted him at long last.

"Spike, now," The word sloughed into a groan as he stretched out over her, one of his hands sliding between their bodies to touch her. Joining his lips to hers, Spike stroked the wet heat between her legs, drinking the pleasured sounds from deep in her throat.

She was ready for him, her body begging for more with every movement, every sound. Withdrawing his hand, Spike licked the taste of her off his fingers. "You taste so good, luv," Obeying the increasing strength of her grip, he moved into her arms, kissing her wildly and rocking his hips against her.

"Spike," Tightening her legs around him, Buffy reveled in the feel of him pressed hard against her, his skin against nearly every inch of her own. "Now, Please." Her voice trembled, her hands digging into the skin of his shoulders as she tried to keep control of her voice. Words she wasn't quite ready to say hovered on the tip of her tongue, held back weakly.

Fisting both hands in her hair, Spike locked his eyes on her face and, with a smooth angle of his hips, filled her with the entire length of himself.

Sharing a heart-felt groan, they savored the joining of their bodies. Buffy threaded her fingers through his hair, gasping at the feel of Spike inside her. "So good,"

"Buffy," Stroking a hand over her hip, he pulled her closer, pressing deeper within her and moaning with pleasure. "Love, you're beautiful, perfect, mine." Urgently moving against her, Spike watched the emotions in her eyes, giving her his heart as much as his body. "Buffy, I love you. I love you so bloody much."

It was too much, every sensation combining to weaken her self-control. The heavy pulsing of his body within hers, the tender caress of his hands over her skin, the pure intimacy of his gaze on hers and the emotion dripping from his voice pushed the words in her mind closer to the surface.

"Spike," Buffy arched up into his arms, her body riding the knife-edge of ecstacy as he thrust harder and deeper inside her. His lips ran up her throat, his teeth nibbling at the rapid pulse just under her skin. The passion crested as his teeth pressed just hard enough to dimple the skin.
Climaxing in his arms, words rushed out her mouth as her nails marked his shoulders. "Spike, I love you, Spike!"

His head shot up at her words, his eyes searching hers. "You mean it, God, love, you really mean it. I love you, Buffy." Pressing a kiss to her lips, Spike clutched her tightly and collapsed in her arms, pleasure of a kind he'd never felt before filling every cell of his body.

"Buffy," Propped up on his elbows, Spike brushed her hair back to see her eyes. "Love, tell me again." Dropping a kiss on her lips, her neck, he treasured her eager response to his touch. "Please, Buffy, say it again."

"I--I love you, Spike."

"I love you, Buffy." Tilting her chip up, he tenderly pressed his lips to hers, feeling her kiss him back with just as much emotion.

***