"Yeah. You fell asleep in the living room, baby," Spike told her as he pulled her into his arms.
"I'm sorry," she said as she nuzzled into his embrace. "I didn't mean to."
"It's all right," he assure her with a kiss to the top of her head. "You're still inspiring when you're asleep."
Buffy tilted her face up, his lips still close enough for her to catch them, and she moaned into his mouth, her eyes sliding shut as she savored the taste of him. When they broke apart, she breathed, "Touch me, Spike. I need you…"
All thoughts of sleep gone, Spike kissed her again, his hands running along her bare skin as her clothes faded away. She sighed in pleasure, trembling beneath his fingertips.
Spike soon replaced his fingers with his mouth, trailing kisses down her body to the apex of her thighs. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, delighting in the scent of her. She filled his senses until he was drowning in her, and he never wanted to come back up for air.
Buffy gasped then whimpered as Spike placed his tongue flat against her. Then, he moved his head, sending shocks of pleasure through her body. The things he could do to her, the way he could make her feel…
How could she keep existing without this?
In her mind, she could no longer call it "living." What she'd be doing once she wasn't with Spike wasn't living.
She'd never lived until she'd met him.
Spike moved his tongue up, forming the tip into a hard point as he flicked it over her clit, his fingers grazing over her opening as he did. Buffy shivered and moaned, her thoughts narrowing down to only what Spike was doing to her. The sheer intensity of it was something she knew she'd never be able to find without him, and she relished it, reveled in the sensation.
He grunted in satisfaction as he pleasured her, the taste and scent of her more than he ever could've dreamed of. He'd always loved doing this to a woman, to experience her so intimately, yet none of the women he'd known before had been as sweet as Buffy.
She tasted so pure…
Buffy wanted to hold on, to make it last, but her body couldn't seem to keep up with her mind's wishes. What Spike was doing to her just felt too good for her to hold back, and she came with a scream, his tongue continuing to lap at her until she collapsed, boneless.
Spike moved up then, covering her body with his as he kissed her, letting her taste her own sweetness. Buffy moaned into the kiss, her hand sliding between them to grasp his cock, her fingers encircling the silky hardness. Spike groaned, moving above her as he thrust into her tight fist.
"I love you," he murmured against her lips before he kissed her again, never able to get enough of the taste of her.
She moved her hand faster, stroking him just the way he liked, and Spike had to tear his lips away from hers, a curse ripped from him. Buffy smirked, loving that she could do this to him.
"I love you, too."
Spike met her smirk with one of his own. She was such an inciting blend of virgin and vixen, and it drove him out of his mind.
Buffy knew he was close. She'd learned his body, learned his responses. She knew them better than her own…
"I want you to come in my mouth," she told him, moving so her breath was hot against his ear as she spoke. "I need to taste you."
Spike nodded, past the point of speaking. Buffy ran her hand down his back, his skin glistening with beads of sweat as she urged him to roll over and prop himself against the pillows.
At the first swipe of her tongue over the tip of his cock, Spike cried out, his hips bucking. Buffy looked up, waiting for a moment until his eyes met hers before she took him in, sliding down until she had him all.
In their time together, Buffy had paid close attention to Spike's every reaction until she'd learned exactly how to best please him. In moments, she had him gasping, his hips unable to stay still. He moaned and whimpered, groaning out disjointed words of encouragement as Buffy brought him closer and closer to the edge.
When he was trembling, searching for that last bit to push him over, Buffy reached under him and cupped his balls, her nails trailing over them before she squeezed with just enough pressure to set him off, making him come hard in her mouth.
She swallowed everything, wanting it all.
Buffy crawled back up Spike's body, situating him again so he was now nestled against her breast. She stroked her back and hair, listening to the harsh rhythm of his breathing as he fought to regulate it.
"I love you," she told him, trying to hide the tears that were choking her voice.
"I love you, too," Spike murmured, pressing a kiss against her breast.
There, Buffy held him until he drifted off to sleep.
Buffy knew Spike had finished his manuscript. She'd known as soon as she'd woken while he was bringing her to bed, as the familiar "pull" had let her know it was time to go home.
Still, she'd fought it, wanting one last time in Spike's arms. She knew she couldn't resist the pull for long, but she'd refused to give in at the first tug.
Now, as she watched him sleeping peacefully against her breast, she knew she couldn't wake him to say good bye. It was hard enough to leave, and if she had to look into his eyes when she did it…
She wouldn't be able to.
Buffy had never ached before the way she did as she slipped from his embrace. Having to walk away from the man she loved more than anything in the world was even more horrible than she'd imagined, her chest growing tight as she struggled to keep breathing.
Were it her choice to make, she wouldn't be leaving now. She'd wrap herself up in Spike's embrace and stay there forever, never letting him go. But it wasn't her choice. Her fate had been set for her millennia ago when the die of her destiny had been cast. She had a purpose, a calling higher than mortal love.
The air around her shimmered, her chiton returning to its place on her body. It was time for her to return to the Higher Realms, to take her intended place once again.
However, she had one more thing she had to do before she did…
With tears in her eyes, she leaned down, laying a kiss against Spike's brow. "I'll always love you, William," she whispered before she turned around, trembling as she stole from his room.
Rupert Giles couldn't fathom who it could possibly be pounding on his front door at this hour. He grumbled as he got out of bed and put on his robe, tying it shut as he shuffled to the door.
He stopped short, beyond surprised, when he opened it to see Buffy, her face red and tearstained.
"Whatever is the matter?" he asked her softly. "Is…something didn't happen to William, did it?"
Buffy shook her head. "No. He's…he's fine. I just… I have to go now. He's written what he needed to write, and it's time for me to go back. I…" She trailed off, her tears quickly turning into sobs as she crumbled.
Giles was compelled to put his arms around her, trying to comfort her as best he could, his hand patting her back. His rational mind still had a hard time wrapping itself around the idea of Buffy literally being something that should be relegated only to mythology, even in light of the events at the pub, yet he could not deny that the girl in his arms now was very truly in emotional pain.
"Does he know you're gone?" Giles questioned.
Buffy pulled away slightly and looked up at him. "No. He knew I had to leave eventually, but he doesn't know I'm gone now. He was asleep when I left." Buffy stopped, fighting to keep herself from breaking back into hysterics. "I didn't want to go, but it's time. I couldn't say good bye. If I tried to say good bye, I'd just stay, and I can't. I can't."
Giles knew he was missing the whole picture, but somehow, he didn't think Buffy was going to make things any clearer for him. Instead, he decided to focus on the reason for her visit, knowing it must be important if she'd come here after what sounded like her leaving his old student for good.
"What is it you need me to do for you?" he asked her gently.
Buffy sniffled, pulling herself up as straight as she could. "I need you to promise me you'll look after him, make sure he takes care of himself. I know he's going to be hurting when I'm gone, and I can't stand the thought of him being like he was when I found him. You're his friend, and you obviously care for him a great deal, so I know you'll do this for me—won't you, Mr. Giles? You'll make sure Spike's okay for me when I can't be here anymore?"
She was breaking his heart. The pain in her eyes, in her voice, was almost unbearable from where he was standing, and he could only imagine how she must be suffering to experience it first hand. He touched her shoulder tenderly. "I will, Buffy. I promise you, I'll look after him."
"Thank you," Buffy said, trying her best to smile. "It's…it's a little easier, knowing you're here for him."
Giles nodded. "I'll see to it that he's all right."
With his promise given, Buffy stepped back, her eyes closing for only a second before they popped back open. "When you see him again, make sure he knows how much I love him. How much I'll always love him."
The conviction in her voice told Giles her words were nothing less than the truth. "I will."
Buffy's eyes closed again and slowly, she faded away right before Giles's eyes.
He blinked, shook his head, and then stepped back into the flat, suddenly having a lot to think about.
When Spike woke, his bed was cold. It was already past noon, and he knew Buffy never let him sleep this late.
Panic gripped him, something in his mind telling him he was now alone in his flat, but he didn't let the feeling take hold. If Buffy was gone, it couldn't be for good. He knew his manuscript was finished, but the month was not yet up, and Buffy had said nothing to him about having to leave already.
Could she have left him without giving him a proper good bye?
Unless last night had been good bye, and he simply hadn't realized it.
The panic inside of him growing, Spike jumped from the bed and rushed out of the room, calling out Buffy's name even though he knew in his heart he'd receive no answer. He went into the living room, stopping short when he saw the draft of his manuscript now on the coffee table, a small slip of paper on top.
He picked up the paper, a sob rising from him unbidden as he saw the simple message scrawled on it.
Good bye, my poet.
The paper still clutched in his hand, Spike fell to his knees, not bothering to fight his tears. He'd known this was going to happen, had tried to steel himself for it, and yet, somehow, the moment seemed to come as a shock.
It was no longer a case of a "later" to dread. The moment was here, and it shattered his heart.
I know that's an angsty one, but I won't draw this out, I promise.
Please review!