She let out the breath she was holding. Oh God! He’s here…He’s here, and…I didn’t know. How could I not know? The light. He looks beautiful in the light. I’ve never seen him before…in the light. The sun just makes him look so…Oh. My. God. The sun. The light… Buffy shot Giles a terrified, anxious look, “Giles,” she gasped, “The sun…”

Giles’s brow furrowed, his eyes closed in concentration, “Just…two…more…seconds,” he hissed.

The air shimmered again with a purplish glow, and when it dissipated there was a rush of wind, and she seemed to be magically swept up the stairs by a mystical force. Buffy didn’t have time to think about what that force was, or to fight it, but somewhere in the recesses of her brain the scent registered. The scent that she had spent the entire night trying to remember so that she could call it up, at will, if, when the sun came up again, she was without it.

The scent of earth, blood, and leather. The scent of Spike.

As if by magic, she found herself once again in the room he had occupied, hearing his soft murmuring concern pouring into her ear and spilling lightly over her skin as he caressed her.

Her skin shivered at the sound of his voice, “Buffy, are you all right?” his voice shook, laden as it was, with sorrow and worry.

Buffy was amazed, “Spike…?” she choked, “How can you ask me that?” she pulled back from his tight trembling embrace, even though everything in her wanted to stay close and drown in him, to look at him.

His gaze shone brightly at her. He was beaming, and that made her stomach feel funny, as though she’d swallowed a handful of butterflies that were now trying to fly back out of her body. He was looking at her as though she was the most precious thing on earth; the most treasured thing in his world. And that only made her love him more, because his face, his beautiful face was once again battered and bruised.

His eyes were swollen. One of them was even swollen shut, and he was bleeding from a cut above his right eye. His lip was spit and bleeding, and there was a dark spot that marred his left cheekbone. It had obviously been shattered.

She knew what it was like to go up against Angel in a fight. By all rights, as much as she loved him, Spike should be falling apart at her feet.

Yet, he wasn’t. He was filled with worry. His eye, the one she could still see- God, it’s so blue. Just like…Oh…- swam because of it, and it was worry- not for himself- but for her.

Her fingers shook as she brought them up to his cheek, and she sighed with relief when she felt him lean into her touch, “Spike,” she whispered, tears making her voice ebb, “you won…?”

His brow quirked, and Buffy nearly sobbed from the swell of joy she felt within her heart, “You didn’t put a few quid on the ‘Poof’, did you?” Spike smirked.

“No,” she breathed, taking in the tang of the leather and the scent of him, “I’m just so proud of you. You’re hurt,” taking in the discoloration on his face, she bit her lip and her eyes hid behind her lashes; she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know, “Did you have to…did you…?”

“Dust him?” Spike asked gently, as he put his hand under her chin and pulled her gaze back to his face. His face softened as tears welled up in her eyes, “No,” his voice gained strength as his senses confirmed for him that she was all right, “Think I hurt him more by letting him be, though. He might be hurtin’,” his eye went up. In wistful thought, “At least, I bloody well hope he is. But, he’ll be around to lurk another night…”

Buffy found herself falling against him again, pressing a kiss lightly in the crook of his neck. Her next words sent an excited thrill to his spine, “I think I would have dusted him,” her voice was as near to a growl as Spike had ever heard it.

His chest rumbled with laughter, “Careful, Pet. Your demon’s showing,” he said softly as he placed light kisses in her hair and held her tighter, her true presence and her warmth finally calming his shaking hands.

“Don’t care,” she breathed, her voice dripping with a strange combination of desire and rage, “ What he did to you…?” she pulled back slightly, her hands skirting over his face and neck and fluttering over his chest. She looked back up at his battered face and tried to choke back the tears of anger, “What he did to you…and Rachel…?”

Spike’s open eye widened with the horror of what she seemed to know, “Buffy…?” he questioned, shaking his head in denial.

“Giles told me,” she fairly shook, body and soul, with rage, and he could feel it, “about his Grandmother Rachel and what he d-did to her. And then there was Jenny…and I still couldn’t…”

“Buffy,” he said softly, “He didn’t know. Not until I told him…”

“You knew?” her voice shook. She saw the lines on his face harden again, and his gaze became razor sharp. She nodded grimly as the horrible knowledge filled her heart, “Of course you did. You were there.”

Spike closed his eyes and breathed deep to calm himself, hoping his face would not betray him, “Yes,” his throat ached as the word ripped itself from him, “I was there…too late…”

“You wanted to s-save her?” Buffy hated that her voice cracked in disbelief. She believed in him…now. But, if this was true…what would that mean?

“…She was only nine !” his face contorted with the memory of her bruises- her frightened eyes, “I just…I…” he stuttered, not wanting to feel the pain again.

After all I’ve been through…all I did…to show her. To tell her…How could she think…

The searing heat of her mouth on his interrupted his thoughts. The scent of her need overwhelmed him and sent his mind reeling.

His body responded to her, as it always had. Her fire drew him in; consumed him. He was drowning in her.

He needed her.

But, was this what she wanted? Did she want him?

“Buffy…?” he had never been this nervous before, in his entire existence. He searched her darkened eyes for the truth, and listened as she drew in panting breaths, her heart- her beautiful, miraculous heart- pounding…in…his…ears… “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed as the desire she felt made her heart swell. Her hands floated up to his shoulders and slowly, almost reverently, peeled his coat from him, “Yes, Spike,” she said again, her eyes shining, “I am so proud of you.”

In the wake of that whispered blessing, he let her swell over him, and take him under.

He surrendered to her power, and let the wave of her love crash over him.