Pressure.

That’s all he felt. There was pressure in every part of his body, threatening to swallow him and explode through him at the same time.

Trying to push the clouds away and open his eyes, Spike was vaguely aware of something cool brushing against his bottom lip. A touch that felt so reminiscent of a time that he’d tried to repress because the memory was almost too much for him, that he almost succumbed to the fog that was threatening to overwhelm him again.

Pushing through the pain, the soreness and fatigue and the mini explosions that were waiting to be set off when he so much as moved, Spike opened his eyes.

And the pain was gone.

Everything that he had been feeling was rapidly replaced with a numb shock that settled through his body as he tilted his head to one side, unable to believe what he was seeing.

‘This can’t be real,’ he thought, getting a sense of déjà vu as he watched the woman he loved gently swipe at the cut on his lip with a washcloth.

“Buffy?”

“Hi,” she murmured with a soft smile, abandoning the washcloth and gently caressing his cheek. Both nearly jolted at the charge that rushed through them with the simple touch. “I was starting to get worried about you, Mr. Heavy Sleeper.”

Still unable to believe what was right in front of his face, Spike tried to think back to the last thing he remembered.

The alley.

The army that was rushing for him and the inevitable fight that followed. Angel going after the dragon and slaying it with surprising ease, making Spike wish that he had called it instead of the giant that he was fighting. Not that he didn’t slaughter the giant, but it took a little more finesse to get the job done.

He could remember Illyria taking out the demons right and left while Gunn tried his best to kill as many as he could and defend himself at the same time.

“What happened?” he asked, ignoring the throbbing that ran through him as he sat up in the small bed, seeing that they were in a bare room, alone. “Why are you here? This was my fight,” he said, trying to keep any accusation out of his tone as he looked her over, worried that she was injured.

“What?” she asked with a coy smile. “You didn’t honestly expect me to miss an apocalypse, did you?”

“S’pose not,” he said with a smile, grimacing briefly at the ache that ran through his body.

“Sorry I couldn’t get here faster,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of him. “Believe it or not, a few hundred demons waging war in an alley is not an uncommon event in Los Angeles, and it’s a little hard to track down.”

Chuckling for a moment, Spike grabbed his ribs as they protested the action. “Don’t make me laugh, luv,” he said with a gentle smile. “Got some bones that aren’t happy with me right now.”

“Yeah…I haven’t seen you this banged up in a while.”

“Does that mean I’m not my usual devastatingly handsome self?” he asked with a smile.

“Nope,” she replied, shaking her head. “You’re still number one on the hotness scale. But I know there’s a lot of damage inside.”

Raising his eyes to hers, Spike let his smile fade away as he looked at her. “Sounds like you speak from experience,” he said softly, each knowing what the other was thinking.

“More than you know,” she whispered, looking at him through pain-filled eyes before turning away and rinsing out the washcloth in the small bowl of water that was sitting next to her.

Wanting to avoid the subject for a few minutes longer, she cleared her throat as she tried not to think of anything but the fact that he was here. He was sitting right next to her and he was real. Not some figment that her imagination had concocted to take away the pain on one of the lonely nights that she had cried for him. Especially when she heard he was alive…somewhat, living in Los Angeles, fighting the good fight and not coming after her.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around the drab room, taking in the off-white walls and beige carpet and sparse furniture that decorated the space.

“A safe place,” Buffy assured him. “An abandoned building a few blocks away from the alley. The other Slayers are out there,” she added, gesturing over her shoulder to the closed door behind her.

“And the others?” he asked, turning in the bed and letting his legs swing over the sides, still unable to take his eyes off of her but unwilling to bring up any personal conversation that would inevitably result between the two of them that might wreck the tranquility of the moment they were having together.

Even if this was an illusion, he didn’t want to ruin it for anything in the world.

“The others,” Buffy repeated in a soft voice, turning to look at him. “Angel’s pretty beat up. Lost an arm, but otherwise okay. The woman-”

“Illyria,” Spike interrupted. “And she’s not so much a woman as an ancient demon.”

“Oh,” she replied with a soft pout as her eyebrows drew together, thinking over what he had just told her.

‘God, I’ve missed that look,’ he thought, letting a soft smile play on his lips as he tilted his head to look at her.

“Anyway,” Buffy continued, snapping herself out of the daze she was in, shaking her head to get her thoughts in order. “She’s okay. A little banged up, but she faired the best out of anyone. A few cuts and a bloody nose, but Willow’s with her since she’s already looked after Angel.”

“Red’s here?” Spike asked with a smile.

“Told you I couldn’t miss an apocalypse,” she said with an answering smile, feeling her face flush under his gaze. “You didn’t think I would forget the recruits, did you?”

“Course not,” he said with a chuckle that soon faded when he saw the troubled look that settled on her face.

“The other man,” she said softly, letting her shoulders slump in defeat.

“Gunn,” Spike offered, already knowing the end to this part of the story.

“He didn’t make it,” she whispered, looking at him to gauge his reaction. “The girls did everything they could. Willow tried her best to do a healing spell, but he was just too far gone.”

“Figured as much,” he said with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. Feeling the gentle pressure of her hand on his thigh, rubbing in soothing circles, he finally turned his gaze to her, smiling at the openness in her eyes.

“So,” she continued, turning back to the bowl of water and moving it to the bedside table, doing anything to keep busy and avoid the penetrating sapphire eyes that were practically burning through her. “What’s new?”

Spike could hear the underlying hostility in her voice, obviously trying to mask the anger that was below the surface. His expression briefly darkened as his thoughts wandered. ‘She doesn’t have a right to be angry. She’s the one who’s been snuggling every night with someone else and that’s…’

His thoughts trailed off when he realized that she was here. She was with him.

Not the Immortal. Not with Angel, who was injured far worse than he was. She was here.

Suppressing the smirk that threatened to overtake his lips when he realized now was as good a time as any, Spike made sure an indifferent expression was on his face before responding. “Not much, pet. What’s new with you?”

He nearly laughed as she narrowed her eyes and looked at him.

“Hey, now,” he said with mock indignity. “It’s a fair question. My life has been fairly dull. Staked a few vamps, took part in a major battle, kicked the shit out of the great poofter…that was probably the highlight of my year.”

“Year?” she asked, stepping away from the bed under the pretense of straightening her clothes as she got some distance.

“Yeah,” Spike replied, treading lightly, unused to the indifferent tone of the Slayer. Buffy was a lot of things, but soft spoken could not be a phrase that was used to describe her.

Seeing her nod, he ignored the pain as he pushed himself to his feet and walked the few steps toward her, making a move to take her into his arms and soothe the tumultuous feelings that he could see her going through.

Letting his arms wrap around her waist, he smiled when she easily relaxed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and letting her eyes close as the feeling of familiarity washed over her.

“Missed you,” he whispered into her hair, resisting the urge to practically crush her in his embrace.

“Who would have thought it?” she replied, pulling away and subtly wiping the tears away as she offered him a smile. “Are you feeling better?” she asked after a moment with the concern evident in her voice.

“Could be worse,” he replied with a shrug. “Has been worse,” he corrected himself, thinking about the Hellmouth. “But I can’t think of a better way to wake up.”

“But you’re going to be okay?” she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Smiling at the worry in her voice, Spike reached out to let his hand gently caress her cheek, feeling his heart swell even more when she leaned into his touch. “I’ll be fine, Buffy,” he whispered, offering her a soft smile.

“Good,” she said with a nervous nod. “That’s…good. Because I would hate to have to postpone this.” Before Spike could blink, Buffy’s fist smashed into his nose.

“Bloody hell, Slayer!” Spike cried, reeling back from the impact. “I thought we were past all that!”

“We were…until you had a relapse.”

“And what would this relapse be?” he asked with a glare as he checked to make sure his nose wasn’t bleeding.

“Your relapse back to ‘idiot’ status,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “Did you really think that you could come back, tell Andrew of all people, and expect it to stay a secret? Did you really think that you could be in Rome while I was there…be in the same building that I was in and I wouldn’t sense you? I might have to downgrade my opinion of ‘idiot’ to ‘moron’.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with genuine honesty. “But how the hell was I supposed to know that you would be happy to see me? I died for you.”

“How the hell would I…oh, I don’t know,” she said with a cavalier shrug. “I guess that I was having so much fun living it up that I wouldn’t give a damn if the man I love was suddenly…what’s the word?” she asked, looking up at the ceiling as she snapped her fingers together. “Oh yes, alive again!”

“Not alive, pet,” he replied with a smirk. “Still one hundred percent vampire. Still the same man I was…the same man you didn’t love.”

“The Spike I knew would have come after me,” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest and studying him with a strong gaze that was designed to bring any man to his knees…unless the man was used to the treatment from this particular woman and was no longer fazed by the look. “The Spike I knew would have fought for me,” she continued, softening her expression to a pout that he found irresistible. “The Spike that I knew wouldn’t question how much I loved him because I showed him more than once that I did.”

“Maybe you didn’t know the Spike that you knew.”

“Maybe not,” she said with a shrug, turning toward the door. “If that’s the case, I guess he won’t care if I walk out of his life…”

Trailing off with a victorious smirk when she saw him materialize in front of her, Buffy had a sudden flashback of a different time when she’d made to leave and he refused to let her.

“There’s my guy,” she whispered, giving him a bright smile when he ducked his head in embarrassment. “Didn’t want to let me go that easily, huh?” she asked, stepping toward him and smiling when he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, apprehension tingeing his voice.

“You know what I want,” she replied in a soft voice.

Unable to bask in the knowledge that she was willingly returning his affection, Spike grimaced in pain when his nose throbbed, reminding him who had caused the added soreness. “Fucking hell, this hurts.”

“Aww, poor baby,” she said with a pout, suppressing the giggle as he glared at her.

“Care to tell me what I did to deserve that?”

“Let’s just call it reason number one on a very long list,” she replied with a smile.

“I see,” he said in a slow voice. “How about the top five, then.”

“I can do that,” Buffy retorted with far too much enthusiasm for Spike’s taste as she backed away from him. “Reason number one,” she started, leaning against the wall as she held up her index finger. “You come back and you don’t tell me. Number two- you start working with Angel of all people…didn’t you two hate each other?”

“Mutual dislike,” he replied with a smirk.

“More like sexual frustration,” Buffy muttered.

“Oi!”

“Number three,” she continued, ignoring his outburst. “You go to the city where I’m living and you can’t even wait around to say, ‘Hi, I’m alive, by the way’. Four- you could have called me,” she finished in a whisper. “You could have done something.”

“Buffy-”

“And let’s not forget number five,” she said, cutting him off as she continued. “You bug the living hell out of me, insisting that I love you for years and years, and then when I finally admit it, you don’t believe me. Do you have any idea how much that pissed me off?”

Spike had to smile at the fire that emerged from her. “And if I’d said something different?” he asked, tilting his head to study her. “If I accepted what you said at face value and waited around while you tried to figure out what to do…what then? You’d be buried in the Hellmouth, where I’m supposed to be, and it would have been my fault.”

“Stupid vampire,” she muttered, poking out her bottom lip.

“Now, on to more pressing matters…do you have any idea how much this stings?” he asked, gingerly touching his nose.

“I guess you wouldn’t believe me if I said it was an accident, huh?” she asked, giggling at the look of disbelief on his face. “Want me to kiss it and make it all better?”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had in this lifetime,” he said with a smile, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close before lowering his lips to hers in a soft kiss, barely getting a taste of her. Both simply wanted to get reacquainted. There would be time for passion and lust later…this very moment and every one that would inevitably follow- it was about love.

Grasping at his strong shoulders while his tongue gently begged entrance to her mouth, brushing against her bottom lip in a teasing caress, Buffy’s lips parted, feeling her heart flutter as her tongue stroked against his, neither wanting to rush the fire that was burning between them..

Slowly pulling away from the tender brush of her mouth on his, Spike pressed his forehead to hers, looking into her eyes.

“Still not too crazy about getting hit,” he said, smiling when he saw the smile on her lips. “And I would think you would be a little too tired to inflict even more violence, considering you obviously beat back an army of demons tonight.”

Looking up at him with a coy smile, Buffy shivered as Spike pressed his body against her. “What can I say?” she replied with a shrug. “I’d rather be fighting you anyway.”



THE END





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