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Giles opened his eyes and smiled at the woman standing next to him.

“Anya, help me up. We have got some cleaning to do.” She turned her face away from him, not wanting to see the mess Willow had caused in her shop. It looked like hell. She sighed and met his gaze, trying not to glance at the mess surrounding them.

“You okay?” She took his hand, helping him up from the floor.

“I think so.” He brushed off some dust from his trousers.

“You really should clean this place more often, Anya,” he mused silently with a smile on his lips. By the way she reacted, he wished he would have remained silent. She glared angrily at him, her tone accusing.

“It was nice, before that witch showed up, throwing herself all over you.”

“You were jealous, weren't you?” He supposed, waiting for her reaction.

“Of course I was, I won't let her touch you again.” Anya put her arms around his neck, totally being over her crush on Xander.

“Anya, I wanted Willow to take my magic. I wanted her to feel, the good magic took control of the evil in her. It was for her own good. I never meant to make you jealous.”

“I know, but it hurts seeing you with someone else,” she whined.

“Anya, we're not even dating, dear.” He seemed embarrassed by the attention he was receiving from her. He tried to remove her arms round his neck. She glanced at him and he saw the gleam of hurt feelings buried deep down in her brown sparkling eyes.

“You don't want me?” Her lower lip trembled.

“I do, but not now, I have to deal with Willow first, please try to understand.” He held her in his arms, resting his head against her blonde curls that framed her face.


Tara was at the hospital for a week, recovering with Willow by her side. Dawn joined her the first night, sitting on a chair next to the bed, holding Tara's hand. Giles was asleep in a armchair, to tired to keep an eye at Willow, but she had left the blackness behind her. Her hair had changed back to red and her eyes were caring, not letting go of Tara one single second.


Spike had dropped Dawn off at the hospital, now he was going home. At first he had planned to go to his crypt, but he couldn't resist stopping by at Buffy's house. He went in through the door, he had got a key from Dawn weeks earlier, but he hadn't used it. He went upstairs, heading for Buffy's room. The door was closed, he took a unnecessary breath before opening it. He peeked in, tipped in on his toes and closed the door behind him.

He looked around, seeing the bed he never got chance to share with Buffy in real life, only in his dreams. He opened her closet, looking at her clothes, touching them like she was inside of them. In the back of her closet he found something black, laying at the bottom. He picked it up and found one of his t-shirts, wondering how it had ended up there. He smelled it, it had her scent, probably she had worn it at night, when no one could see her, hiding under her cover, maybe thinking of him. He smirked.

He brought the item to her bed and crawled down under her cover, finding Mister Gordo, the pig and a lace-trim babydoll, coloured magenta. So, this was what she had been wearing, he thought. He got undressed, and tossed his clothes on the floor. He put the babydoll next to his cold skin, and placed a kiss on the soft fabric, while he inhaled her scent.


Somewhere between sleep and awake, he heard her voice, whispering in his ear.

“Spike.”

“What is it, pet?” He mumbled in his sleep.

“Nothing, I just missed you.”

He turned around in the bed, seeing her laying there, next to him. He reached out for her, pulling her close into his arms, her wings surrounding him in the bed. Her green eyes sparkling met his sapphire blue and then there was no turning back. Her head tilted and she parted her lips. Their lips touched and Spike felt a spark ignite between them.Their kiss was soft and tender, and as their tongues touched the kiss deepened. The kiss ended and another started, and as their lips parted, they gazed into one another's eyes. He put his hand on her chin and she turned her head slightly and brushed her lips over his fingertips, leaving soft kisses. Her body all tingly in his arms, longing for more.

He started a trail of sensual kisses at one shoulder, sliding his hands downwards her curved body, covered in her white dress, pressed against his naked body. A shiver ran down his spine as she released the halterneck straps round her neck and let them fall. He bit his lip when he leaned down to her neck, his cold breath blew against her skin, giving her goosebumps, as he placed a soft kiss on her collarbone. He continued down, across her breasts, placing soft kisses and back up to the other shoulder, before he moved back to her warm lips. The sight of her made him dizzy. His tongue plunged into her mouth, exploring her, tasting her desire.

Even though it was dark in the room, Buffy’s body seemed to glow, enlightening the bed.
Spike looked at her golden hair flowing over the pillow, her eyes devouring him. He slid his hands down her dress and put his thumbs under the fabric, pushing it upwards her waist. His hands grasped her hips, untying the white satin ribbons on the sides of her thong, throwing it on the floor. He watched her as she leant her head backwards, her lips parted, breathing, as he brushed a fingertip against her clit. Her wetness drenched his finger and he licked it off, watching her with eyes darkened of lust. He grabbed her hips grinding at her before he plunged into her, making her shiver and clench, moving against him as he thrust in her, following his rhythm, intoxicated by lust.

She wrapped her legs around him, small whimpers coming from her mouth, before he covered her mouth with more kisses, pinning her down to the mattress.

Their eyes met, he enjoyed what he saw in her green eyes, a mix of pure lust and devotion. She was arching her head back against the pillow, whispering his name as she came. He joined her, moving his hips slowly, as her inner walls fluttered around his length, making her gasp and he let himself come, filling her with his thick cold seed.

He rested his head on her chest, their bodies entwined, his cock softening in her, as he let an unnecessary breath out.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he mumbled.


The next morning he woke up, stretching his arms above his head. He turned around in the bed, looking at the place where Buffy had been, but she was gone. Maybe it had been a dream after all? But the image of Buffy next to him had been so clear, he had felt her heat. He stroke with his hand over the sheet, finding a feather under the cover. He closed his eyes, letting it softly brush over his lips and smiled.





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