Buffy awakened that afternoon before Spike did, blinking into the dim light filtering through the heavy, drawn curtains on the window. She was a bit disoriented and confused at first, not recognizing her surroundings – until the memories of the previous night came flooding back to her all at once.

Her eyes widened as she played it all over in her mind, trying to process so much that had happened so fast, to make it real in her mind – Anya’s kidnapping – finding Riley’s secret headquarters – shutting down the chips – the final showdown with her husband – the conversation with the governor – and…after…

She drew in a soft involuntary breath at the intense wave of emotions that flowed over her at that particular vivid memory, as she raised her head and rolled over onto her side to look at the sleeping vampire beside her. He was lying on his stomach, one arm resting on the pillow above his head, his peaceful, almost angelic face turned toward her.

Without even realizing she was doing it, Buffy’s hand began to run lightly up and down the smooth, alabaster skin of Spike’s back as she watched him sleep, her eyes thirstily drinking in the sheer beauty of her lover, her hand attempting to reassure her heart and mind that it had all been real.

*All* of it.

But there was really no need for convincing her heart of that last part. Her elbow was braced on the bed, supporting her weight, her head resting on her hand – but as she contentedly studied the face of her vampire, she raised her head slightly and her hand drifted down to rest over the marks he had left on her throat the night before.

The sense of connection, of union with Spike, went far beyond anything she could put into words – powerful beyond anything she had ever experienced before. Her hand on his back slid slowly upward until she was gently caressing his shoulder, just under the mark that, to her surprise, remained on his throat as well – where she had bitten him.

Claimed him.

He was hers, and she was his – forever.

At one point such a thought would have terrified her beyond words; now, it was accompanied by an overwhelming sense of peace.

Riley’s organization was all but defeated. Spike and the other slaves were going to be free. She and her mate – her *mate*! – and every single one of her friends had made it through the events of the night before unharmed. And now, she would have the rest of her life to share with someone who loved her more than anyone else in the world, and would never, ever leave her, as she had been left so many times before.

She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as she just savored the beauty of the moment, in perfect contentment. It just didn’t get any better than this.

When she opened her eyes to look at Spike again – her breath was stolen away with the realization that she had been wrong. He was awake, intense sapphire eyes meeting hers with a soft smile of adoration, just watching her in peaceful silence for a few moments.

“Good morning, beautiful,” she murmured finally, her voice low and husky with sleep, her hand rising to gently stroke back his disheveled blond curls from his forehead.

He was silent for a moment longer, just gazing at her with a sort of awed, wondering look in his eyes, as if he had to convince himself that the perfect joy that was this moment, and the fervent passion and union of the night before, were not too good to be true.

She knew the feeling.

Finally, his smile widened slightly into a teasing smirk, and his eyes sparkled as he remarked, “Isn’t that supposed to be *my* line, love?”

She shrugged lightly, returning his smile. “Works both ways, I think.” Suddenly, she frowned, her face coloring with slight embarrassment as she quickly amended, “Not to say that I think I’m beautiful, because – well – that’s not what I’m saying, I’m just saying that *you’re* beautiful, too – I mean – handsome, because I guess beautiful is kind of a girly word to use, isn’t it? And you are so *not* with the girliness…It’s just that…I mean…”

“Buffy…”

The sound of her name caught her attention, and she looked back up at him dubiously, her lips forming a little grimace of chagrin.

*Leave it to clumsy, oh-so-eloquent me to toss the romance of the moment out the window…* she thought.

“I know,” she muttered, rolling her eyes at herself. “I should just not talk because the whole talking thing is not working out for me at the moment, and *so* not with the romantic…”

“*Buffy*!”

Amusement in his eyes, Spike leaned in closer to her, wrapping an arm around her, his hand resting at the back of her neck as he drew her in very close, his forehead resting against hers.

“Shut up,” he whispered affectionately, and then enforced his gentle order with a not-so-gentle kiss, pushing her back on the bed under him as he claimed her once again with his mouth. He pulled back after a few moments, meeting her eyes again to add softly, “You *are* bloody beautiful…’s ok if you bloody well know it!”

“Mmmm,” she murmured contentedly, her eyes a little hazy as she pulled him back down into another kiss. “So are you…”

He indulged the second kiss – though it was not the least bit a sacrifice for him – before pulling away again to admit with a slightly apologetic little half shrug, “But, er – Buffy – another word *might* be a bit better for me – ‘beautiful’ – yeah, a bit on the girlish side.”

Buffy giggled as she pulled him down greedily again, applying another brief but sensuous kiss before she drew back to whisper playfully in his ear, “Handsome?”

“ ‘S better,” he nodded, his mouth falling to gently kiss her throat.

“Hot?” she gasped, her back arching as he nipped lightly at her sensitive skin.

“Mm-hmm…”

“Sexy…*God*!” Buffy’s husky, suggestive murmur was suddenly interrupted in a shocked little cry of pleasure as his very talented tongue shot out to lightly caress the small puncture wounds on her throat, the mark of his claim, before biting lightly over the spot.

She felt his lips form a smile, felt his upper body shaking slightly with silent laughter, as her hand at the back of his neck pressed him closer to her, and she gasped out, her voice breaking with passion as he intensified his efforts, “Yes…sexy…that’s it…*uugghh*… so d-damn sexy!”

He chuckled softly as he pulled back to kiss her, slowly and thoroughly, before raising his head and agreeing with a smirk, “Yeah, think I like that one, love. Stick with that.” A playfully mocking note in his voice, he leaned in to whisper, “And keep the sexy little stutter, too, love…makes it even hotter…”

She ignored his mockery and reached up to pull him down again, but he evaded her hand, rolling back to his side and rising up on his arm as if to get up, a wicked sparkle in his sapphire eyes.

Buffy’s mouth dropped open in shock and she stared at him for a long moment, before reaching out and grabbing his arm, yanking him back around and onto her, both hands gripping his arms firmly.

He suppressed a laugh, his eyes wide and innocently questioning as he took in her challenging look, one eyebrow quirked upward in a look that said she was *so* not amused.

“And just where do you think *you’re* going, Mr. ‘I’m too sexy to get over myself’?” she demanded.

“Gotta check in with the Watcher and your friends, love. Bet they’re worried sick about you,” he explained, his tone matching the wide-eyed, serious look in his eyes. “Better get over to that guest house and join the bloody party, don’t you think?”

He made as if to get up again, but she was unyielding. She stared at him for a moment, her expression not changing, as she shook her head and said with a heavy dose of attitude, “Unh-uh. They can wait. I…can…*not*…”

“That so?” he replied, his voice low and sensuously tempting. “Can’t wait, can you?”

As he spoke, his hands slid down from her waist to her hips, and he was rewarded with a soft gasp as her back arched slightly up in anticipation of more. Then, when her guard was down, his touch suddenly became lighter.

“Might just have to!” he informed her with a smug smirk, pinning her to the mattress with one hand and tickling her ribs mercilessly with the other.

The Slayer let out a surprised little yelp before bursting into a fit of helpless giggles, struggling ineffectually through her laughter to regain control of the situation. She had lost her grip on the smug vampire completely – which had been partially his intent – and he suddenly moved quickly to escape again, laughing triumphantly.

But it was a bit early for triumph, he found, when the Slayer suddenly realized what was happening and caught his arm again the moment he stopped tickling her, rolling them over in one lightning quick movement, so that she was on top of him instead, her hands holding his wrists down against the mattress.

His jaw set, his eyes glittering with determination as he pressed upward, struggling to break her grip – but to no avail.

The Slayer was using all the strength she could muster after the tickling attack that had left her breathless – not to mention breath-taking. Her sparkling jade eyes were dancing with a good-naturedly competitive light; her breast heaving with deep breaths from the exertion of the little battle; her hot little body and hands restraining him while the heady scent of her arousal drifted up to fill his senses.

In short – Spike was in heaven.

When she realized what a difficult time he was having breaking her grip, a satisfied smirk came over her face. “Oh, you are so gonna pay for that – you bad, bad vampire!” she said in a playfully dark, warning voice that send a rush of pleasure through his body and a rush of blood straight to his groin.

“Am I?” he returned her smirk with a bold challenge in his eyes. “Gonna make me pay, Slayer?” He paused for effect before adding slowly and deliberately, “I…can’t…wait.”

He realized his mistake an instant later – echoing her very words to him a few moments earlier, just before he had denied her – but it was too late.

“Really?” she whispered in a seductively teasing voice, holding his gaze with wicked triumph in her eyes, as she drew one knee up slowly to rub slightly against the base of his quickly swelling erection. “You can’t?”

“Augghh,” he moaned, his head falling back as his eyes rolled up slightly, encouraging her to increase the pressure she was using. “Buffy – Buffy, love…”

“Hmm?” she murmured in an innocently questioning tone, releasing one wrist to lightly tickle the underside of his aching, over-sensitive shaft. “Were you saying something, Baby? You – can’t wait – for me?” As she spoke, she slowly withdrew her attentions from his needy member, a victorious look on her face.

His eyes widened with shock, and then narrowed in indignation as he reached his free hand down to pull her closer to him, muttering breathlessly, “I don’t bloody well think so, love…”

“What?” she asked, all innocence.

“You know bloody well what, you soddin’ evil little chit!” he shot back, yanking her nearer as she made a token attempt to escape his grasp – though it was clear from the look in her eyes and the tempting fragrance of her arousal in the air that she really did not want to get away. “Get a bloke all worked up and then…”

“But Spike – you said the others would be worried…can’t have that, can we?” she teased him, breaking his grip and sitting up on the side of the bed. “Besides,” she added in a soft, sly tone, her face turned away to hide her grin, “the way I see it – *you* sort of owe *me*…”

“*Owe* you?” he repeated in disbelief. “What does *that* mean?”

“Last night,” she said softly, “When you claimed me – that was the most incredible moment of my entire life.” There was a serious note to her voice that told him that in spite of the little game they were playing, she really did mean her words. “I have never, in my entire life, felt anything so – so powerful and intense. I mean – other guys have made me feel – but – but that was just – out of this world.”

Her very genuine words of love held a note of gratitude that told him that what she really felt was the very opposite of her playful statement. In her eyes, he had gifted her with a love that she had been made to feel that she did not deserve – and she truly felt that she owed him much more than she could ever repay.

She paused for a moment, before giving him a coy look and adding with raised eyebrows, her tone suddenly very playful again, “And I distinctly remember you having exactly *two* ‘incredible moments’. So – hence with the you owing me.”

“Oh so *that’s* the way it works, is it?” he replied, his voice low and enticingly dangerous. He was determined to get back at her, to regain the upper hand in this little game – but the delighted sparkle in his adoring blue eyes told her clearly how much her sincere words had meant to him. “Right then,” he said with a slow nod and a smirk. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Suddenly, he caught her off guard by lunging for her and pinning her down on the mattress again, the low growl of possessive lust in his voice heightening her arousal.

“For giving me back my freedom – my dignity – everything I ever lost…” His tone was light, but his gaze was intense, the thankfulness in his eyes at least matching her own. “For consenting to be mine for the rest of our bloody lives – for – for making me my own man again…” He paused, shrugging slightly as he added with a smirk, “And for getting off twice last night when you only did once…”

“…yeah…guess you’re right. I *do* owe you. Got a bloody huge debt to repay you, Slayer…”

Buffy let out a sharp little cry of pleasure as one of his hands unexpectedly slipped between them to find her sensitive center as his mouth lowered to caress her throat again. “God, *Spike*!” she gasped, her back arching upward into his touch. “What are you *doing*?”

Her tone made it very clear that whatever he was doing – she didn’t mind at all.

He raised his head to look into her lust-darkened eyes, half-closed with overwhelming pleasure, his own expression full of a love that went beyond words, as he softly answered her question.

“Just gettin’ started, love. Just gettin’ started.”