Almost without thinking, and unable to deny himself any longer the glorious sight of the woman he loved, Spike surrendered to temptation. She was finally here, within his reach. Spike stepped aside and out from behind the protective cover Lorne provided and, in a voice barely above a whisper, asked tentatively, “Buffy?”

Spike gazed at her standing there flanked by her Scoobies, staring at him with her hands on her hips and her stubborn little chin jutting out determinedly like the warrior goddess she had always been. Cursing the weakness in his voice, he made a new attempt. This time he managed a slightly louder but no less emotional “H’lo, luv…I…um…”

Frustrated by his lack of eloquence (just who was he bloody kidding—frustrated by his inability to form coherent words), Spike felt himself freeze under her still, emotionless gaze.

“Spike,” she said coolly, maintaining eye contact with him but remaining still, “you always did have an incredible knack for knowing just what to say. At least you being here gives me one less thing I have to manage in the next five minutes.”

Heartbroken by the sheer blankness of her tone, but held captive by her level green gaze, Spike raised his scarred eyebrow and asked with more than a hint of confusion, mixed with anger, “Five minutes? And just what exactly were you predicting to have to manage in your first five minutes here in the City of bloody Angels? Especially with Captain Forehead on walkabout for the rest of the week.”

“Well, now that I know you’re here, that’s about as long as I could spend here in the same city with you,” Buffy began, only to watch Spike drop his head as a coldness, more desolate than death, gripped his insides. Taking one step forward, she started again, “That’s as long as I could manage to be here in the same city with you without touching you.”

Hardly comprehending, much less daring to hope, Spike’s head slowly lifted to meet Buffy’s gaze. He nearly staggered backward from the sheer brilliance of the grin lighting up her face. Rarely had she smiled like this; even more rarely had she ever smiled like this for him. Seeing an answering smile beginning to form across his handsome features, she took another slow step forward and whispered, “Any longer than that would just be hell, Spike. And we both know I’ve earned better. We both have!” Suddenly her tentative steps turned into a run, and she closed the distance between them, launching herself into his arms with a force that landed him against the wall. The kiss that resulted contained all the passion of long, lonely, grief-filled nights; of love given but denied; of mourning and longing, joy and lust, and a desire more eternal than death itself.

When they finally separated, foreheads touching as they both desperately gulped for air, the secretive, joyous smiles that grazed their faces spoke volumes of their emotions, to each other and to their captive and somewhat embarrassed audience.

The sounds of nervous throat-clearing brought them back to themselves and Buffy slowly unwrapped her legs from Spike’s waist, backing up only slightly and remaining in the protective circle of his arms. Lost in her eyes, Spike was too distracted to notice the tiny fist moving at light-speed toward his nose until it had made contact, snapping his head backwards from the force of the blow. Bringing his hands to his nose, Spike shouted “Bloody hell, you bleedin’ daft cow! What the hell was that for?”

Freed from the circle of his arms, Buffy began to pace in front of him, waving her arms dramatically as she ranted “You total bastard! I can’t believe you! You’ve been here all this time and you left me to go on thinking that you were dead! And I mourned you! All these months I have mourned you, and cried for you, and dreamed that you would come back, and you were here the whole damn time! And I still wouldn’t even know if Andrew hadn’t made with the ‘splainy on the plane, because he so knew I would kick his ass if we got here and then I found out that he knew, because obviously you’d be here…and how in the hell could you think I wouldn’t want to at least hear from you, you doof?”

“Buffy…luv…” Spike tried to interrupt, amused at the ramble and overwhelmed by the emotions she was so freely displaying, but Buffy was having none of it. The rant continued unabated, her arms flying as fast as her feet as she paced, tossing occasional glances this way and that but never veering farther than a few feet from him.

“I understand that you were scared, Spike, I really do, and I even get why, because God knows I was never touchy-feely Buffy with you….and I know that I waited too late to tell you and that you didn’t believe me, but I’m telling you again in front of everybody,” she paused for a moment, searching his gaze for his reaction to her words, “I love you, Spike, and I swear to God if you ever hide from me, or doubt me again I will beat you into dust.”

As his face shifted from amusement to a strange mixture of fear, joy, and adoration, the wild gesticulations began anew as she continued. “And I will dismember you piece by piece and put you back together just to do it again…I thought you wanted me to love you? You kept telling me I did, and then I tell you that I do, that I love you, and you’re all ‘No you don’t but thanks for saying it’ and what the hell was THAT anyway, you shirty bastard? You let me watch you…I had to see you burn and you wouldn’t even…”

“Buffy, luv…” Spike broke in again just as Buffy’s emotions tightened her throat and her voice failed her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her roughly to him. His mouth descended upon hers, silencing her with lips and tongue in a gentle kiss that quickly became heated as he processed her rant and realized the true depth of the emotions she had just revealed.

Bloody hell, she loved him…had sworn it in front of the watcher and her mates and all of Angel’s crew…and never before had he felt what he was feeling now, much less from her: love, acknowledgement, adoration, completion, and oh God, passion that he could barely control and… “We need to get out of here NOW,” Buffy panted, whispering against his lips what his own mind had begun to chant, and they smiled at each other as they turned, finally acknowledging the now red-faced others in the room.

“Giles, could you… um… you know... make with the, er… expositiony bits… cause it seems like Buffy has some plans that we’re interrupting…” Willow interjected, blushing a bit at being the first to speak after the emotional display.

“Yes…quite” Giles quickly stammered, glasses off and handkerchief out, one lens already threatening to crack under the pressure he was exerting upon it. Buffy and Spike snorted simultaneously, each recalling a time their kisses had caused Giles to be grateful for blindness and amused by the prospect that he was about to inadvertently impose that condition upon himself again.

Spike looked up in near-shock at Willow’s words and Giles’ quick agreement, then hastily covered his emotional tumult with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smirk as he teased, “Why Red, Watcher, one might almost take that as permission for me to leave here with the Slayer, unchaperoned.” Willow’s quick little wave, and accompanying genuine smile, knocked most of the wind out of his sails, but it was the next words spoken that left him completely gobsmacked.

“Well, Kinda Naughty,” said an eye-patched figure moving around Giles to stand by Willow, “we figure she’ll go with you no matter what we do. You’re only going unchaperoned because I don’t want to have to put out my one good eye from the horror of what I might see.”

Spike’s eyes shot from the Scoobies to Buffy (who wore a smirk that rivaled one of his best) and back to Xander, taking in the man’s lack of hostile body language and (holy hell, could it be?) genuine smile. “Well, then, Whelp,” he started cheerfully, minus his usual snark and with the beginnings of a genuine smile, “I guess we’ll just have to keep it kiddie-appropriate for you. Rate Watcher’s going on those glasses, they’re bound to turn to powder, and I don’t think we can afford two blind Scoobies right off. So then Rupert, it appears you have a story to tell?”