Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or Spike. They're both currently slaves to Joss who will, cruelly, never let them be together the way they were meant to be.

Summary: Set after the S6 episode 'As You Were'. A tragedy brings Buffy and Spike back together for one night... *COMPLETED, December 2002* NC17

Author's Note: This story takes place at some mythical time after 'As You Were', so Buffy and Spike have broken up. I'm not really where exactly it would fit in, since it's completely and utterly made up, but I figured I should give them one last roll in the hay. Also, this one is a bit darker than some of the other NC17 fics I've written. Still smutty, but with a bit of an edge to it, too. You have been forewarned.

Ashes
by Kantayra

Buffy frantically scrambled with her keys at the front door. She let out a sigh of exasperation when that stupid orange cow-chicken hat she was forced to wear fell out of her hands and down the steps. She quickly scampered back down to retrieve it. She fumbled a bit more, wrinkling her nose at the greasy stench of the uniform she hadn’t had time to switch out of and furrowing her brow with concern.

All this just made it harder to fit the damn key into the lock. Her desperate struggles came to an abrupt halt when Dawn opened the door for her, her mouth set in a tight line.

“Am I too late?” Buffy asked worriedly. “I really tried to get here in time, but Steve had the shift after mine, and today had to be the one day he came in late and…” She abruptly noticed that the house was silent except for her own babbling. “Is he not here yet?” she turned to Dawn and saw that the teenager was intentionally avoiding her eyes. “Dawnie,” she began nervously, “what happened?”

“You missed him,” Dawn said with a laugh that was more a sob. “Th-The call came, and you weren’t here yet, and he wouldn’t wait and…”

Buffy checked her watch. “I’m not that late,” she said piteously.

Dawn gave her a grim smile. “Yeah, well, the call only took about ten seconds. H-He heard and just…dashed out.”

“Into the sun?” Panic was in Buffy’s tone now as she looked out the window at the blazing, bright light outside. She hadn’t noticed any dust on the steps, but then she’d been in such a hurry…

Dawn quickly put her mind at ease. “He grabbed a blanket first. H-He kinda lost it, Buffy. He just heard and dropped the phone and ran out… I had to apologize and hang up for him and everything.”

Buffy sighed. “I should probably go find him…” she began reluctantly.

“Gee, d’ya think?” Dawn asked sarcastically. “He needed you to be here, Buffy, and then you weren’t and… Wasn’t that the whole point of setting this up in the first place?”

“I’m sorry!” Buffy exclaimed. “I just-”

“Just because he didn’t dust himself on the way out, doesn’t mean he’s not still planning to do it,” Dawn said sullenly, plopping down on the living room couch and picking up one of those generic teen magazines she was so fond of. She intently began to read, ignoring Buffy as much as was humanly possible.

“D-Do you know where he went?” Buffy asked nervously, the horrifying image of him greeting the sun playing continuously in her head. The idea troubled her more than she knew it should.

Dawn shrugged and continued to ignore her.

“I-I’m going out to find him,” Buffy gulped slightly.

Dawn didn’t respond.

“Here I go now.”

Still nothing.

“Bye.” Buffy slammed the door behind her and ran at top speed to Sunnydale Cemetery.

Dawn finally looked up after her sister was gone. “Good luck,” she said softly…

* * *

Buffy burst into the crypt with all the subtlety of a tornado.

“Spike?” she called out hopefully, still gasping for breath at the breakneck sprint she’d just completed.

Her voice echoed off the cold, stone walls, but no answer to her query came forth.

“Spike?” she called out again.

He obviously wasn’t up here, but he probably had been recently. Candles were strewn about the room, end-tables overturned, the lid to the sarcophagus thrown halfway across the room… Either he had come through in a really bad mood, or something else had ripped his place to shreds.

Buffy sincerely hoped it was the former; he really didn’t need anything else to worry about at the moment.

“Spikey?” she tried to go for gentler, more apologetic, as she approached the black square opening that led to the lower level. She didn’t really want to have to go down there. The place had all too many bad memories for her. And, while the last time she had been down there to break up with him had been for the best, that memory didn’t provoke particularly happy images either.

“Spike?”

It was completely pitch-black beneath. That probably meant that he wasn’t down there. She was just about to turn back to see if Willy’s was open today during the afternoon by some miracle of fate…

And then she heard it.

It was so quiet that Buffy had no doubt that he was trying to mask the sounds from her, but it was unmistakable nonetheless: a sob.

“Spike,” she said softly, biting her lower lip, “I’m coming down, OK?” Her foot found the first rung of the ladder, and she slowly lowered herself, having to feel her way with her feet in the darkness.

“Go away,” Spike said coldly between the sobs that he no longer bothered to repress now that she knew he was here.

Buffy reached the bottom of the ladder and looked out into the darkness blindly. “Where are you?” she asked, cautiously beginning to feel her way over to where she thought she’d heard his voice.

“Jus’ leave me alone,” he pleaded with her.

She continued to walk over to him, banging her knee on some piece of furniture or other as she did so. “I just want to see if you’re all right,” she insisted.

“I am bloody well not all right! Now, leave me alone,” he retorted harshly.

Buffy found him then, his back up against the ruins of his charred bed, soot and ashes all around him.

“Hey,” she said softly, sitting down beside him, “I heard you just ditched Angel…”

“Stop it,” he ordered, the slight tremor in his voice belying the force of his words.

Buffy cautiously reached out and touched his shoulder. He jerked away in response and curled up closer to the wall, further away from her.

“How much did he tell you?” she asked, trying to get him to talk.

“Enough.” Spike rubbed one hand over his eyes to try to fight back the tears. He hoped to the god he didn’t believe in that Slayer vision wasn’t good enough for Buffy to see him like this. He couldn’t stand that. For her to think him weak. Pitiable.

“How much?” she repeated.

I’m so sorry, Spike. She just messed with the wrong people one too many times: demon hunters…

“I kinda didn’t get much past the ‘she’s d-d…’” he seemed unable to say the word.

“I’m so sorry,” Buffy said, reaching out to touch his shoulder again. This time he didn’t pull away from her touch, and she gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“D-Demon hunters,” Spike finally gulped. “I-I think I heard him say it was demon hunters…” He began crying anew and reflexively turned to her.

Buffy started in surprise when she suddenly found her arms full of sobbing vampire, but she bit back her instinctive reaction to push him away and instead wrapped her arms lightly around him, one hand slowly stroking his hair.

“Sh-She attacked one of them, it looks like,” Buffy began babbling because she had no idea what else to do. She inwardly cursed herself for sucking so much at this whole comforting thing. “Or, more likely, a member of one of their families. W-We think they tracked her down and then attacked her nest during the day. There were only a couple of minions with her. She really didn’t have any chance…”

“Stake?” Spike forced himself to ask. Some part of him had to know even if it pained him to do so.

“Sun,” Buffy replied. “During the fight, she got kicked out into the light somehow, and…” She trailed off abruptly.

“Went down fightin’ then,” Spike forced himself to laugh. “Tha’s my Black Goddess…”

“She loved you,” Buffy assured him. “Once.”

“No, she didn’t,” he said bitterly, pulling back from her once again. “Don’t lie to me. We all know I was nothin’ more’n an amusing diversion to her.”

“I don’t think that,” Buffy said seriously. “I think she really did love you…as much as she was capable of it, anyway. What with the vampire and crazy and all…”

“Because vampires can’t love,” he repeated her own words angrily.

“Some can,” she replied softly, reaching out for him once more. “C’mon,” she encouraged him, “let’s go upstairs. There’s nothing down here but-”

“The ashes ‘f all I have left,” he growled.

She could see his eyes glow yellow with rage for a brief second. “There’s more than that,” she insisted.

“What?” he demanded.

“C’mon upstairs,” she persisted.

“Why?” he asked sullenly.

“Please, Spike,” she begged him.

“Of course,” he said sarcastically, “I forgot that ‘m s’posed to jump through whatever hoops you put before me. Because ‘s all about Buffy all the time. See, in my grief, ‘d forgotten that what you want an’ what you need always comes first.”

“Spike,” she cut him off with her fingertip against his lips, “what do you need?”

He refused to respond.

“Anything,” she insisted.

“You can’t give me what I need,” he finally grumbled under his breath.

Buffy jerked back in shock. Sure, it was obvious, but she was just oblivious enough that that particular request hadn’t occurred to her…

“You’re right,” she agreed solemnly. “I can’t love you…”

“Then, why won’t you jus’ leave me alone?” he pleaded with her.

She sighed. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I just can’t. I can’t leave you here by yourself…”

“’m always by myself,” he insisted, “even when you’re with me. Especially when you’re with me.”

She nodded in sad agreement. “I’m sorry, William,” she said sincerely. “I wish I could but…”

“Don’ say it,” he hissed.

“OK,” she agreed, “so what else can I do for you? I can’t give you love, but…” She trailed her thumb down one sharp cheekbone in a gentle caress. “…I can give you the next closest thing.”

He scoffed. “What happened to ‘I’m usin’ you’? ‘It’s killin’ me’?”

She gave him a sad smile. “Special circumstances… One last night can’t hurt,” she decided.

“Don’t want your pity!” he practically yelled, leaping to his feet and backing away from her.

Buffy stood up and felt around blindly in the dark. “Spike?” she asked warily. “Where are you?”

“Here, luv,” he practically whispered, his voice sounding ragged, broken.

His voice came from the ladder, and Buffy found that she could just make out his outline now from the light above. She walked over to him once more and wrapped her arms around his waist, one hand catching the back of his head and lightly pushing it down to rest on her shoulder.

She just held him like that for a moment, rocking slowly back and forth.

“You never really knew her, did you?” he finally asked.

“No,” she admitted.

“Yeah, she was crazy,” he said with a fond smile, “but every so often… She’d just get this glint in her eyes, y’know? Like she knew she was off ‘er rocker an’ didn’t care ‘cause she was happy just the way she was. She had a great sense of humour, y’know…”

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “that’s one of the things you love in a woman.”

He nuzzled her throat gently.

“C’mon,” Buffy urged, “let’s go upstairs. There’s nothing left down here. Nothing but ashes.”

In the dim light, she could see that he was about to protest for a second, but then he nodded and let her take his hand and lead him upstairs.

She left him against one wall and began a circular path around the crypt, righting overturned furniture, putting candles back on shelves, dragging the sarcophagus lid back over to where it belonged. He helped her with this last one, and together they set it right again. Spike surreptitiously looked away when she picked up his bedding and put it back on top of the stone slab, tucking in sheets and fluffing pillows. Soon his makeshift bed had returned, and she was at his side once more.

“What do you need?” she repeated her earlier question, her hands absentmindedly playing with the lapels of his duster.

The look he gave her was so full of naked want that she couldn’t help but stand up on her tiptoes and kiss him. It was a light kiss at first, just the barest brushing of lips. And then his hands caught at her hair and her waist, and he pulled her tight up against his body, pressing them together as closely as he could, desperate for whatever touch he could get.

She gave him everything he asked for, doing all those little things she knew he loved and so had refrained from doing during their brief affair. Her fingers tousled his hair, twirling the silky platinum locks around in little swirls. Her thumb slowly stroked the bite mark on the throat, the gesture all the more poignant now that the vampiress who had first made it was gone. She took deep, regular breaths, allowing her sex to shift against his in time to her body’s natural rhythms.

The point of their lips’ union had become a raging inferno in the meantime. His tongue tasted everything he could reach, starting with her lips and then moving inward, exploring every little nook and cranny, memorizing them this one last time.

She allowed her own tongue to gently stroke against his, urging him onward, her whole body set ablaze by the impossible levels of passion in this cold creature.

Her hands finally caught at the lapels of his duster when she could wait no longer. Never breaking contact with his lips, she tugged him lightly to her, backing up as she went. They staggered together like that for a little while until finally her back hit up against the sarcophagus.

He pulled away from her then, just for a second, and she noticed with a satisfied smile that he was panting heavily, even though he had no need to breathe. She took the opportunity to place feather-light kisses all over his face, her body already crying out in relief as she let herself go fully and gave in to her attraction to him. It had been far too long…

Surprisingly, it was Spike who pulled back once more. “I-I thought this was wrong,” he finally demanded of her.

Buffy sighed and sat up on the edge of the sarcophagus. She took his hands in hers and pulled him to her so that he was in between her legs, which both still dangled over the edge.

“This isn’t about right and wrong,” she informed him softly, her hands catching hold of his duster again and this time pulling it down off his shoulders. “It’s about comfort. Please, Spike, you helped me forget. Let me help you, too…just for a little while.”

He let out a resigned little sigh and nodded. And then he forced himself to forget about everything else. Here was the woman he loved on his bed, slowly unfastening the buttons on his shirt. He returned the favor, pulling off the tacky orange-and-white striped button-up she was forced to wear at work. Already it seemed like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, just being free of the offending garment.

His own shirt followed as she pulled it off with shaking hands. They met for another kiss then, this time bare warm flesh against bare cool flesh. She wrapped herself around him, completely surrounding him. Her ankles came up and locked at the small of his back, and she leaned back, pulling him down on top of her.

He willingly followed her, his hands slipping around to the back clasp of her bra and unfastening it just before her back came to rest on the soft comforters. She helped him get it fully off and kissed him again, moaning when his rough hands found her soft breasts and begin kneading them in that way that only he had ever done to her before.

“Spike,” she moaned when his thumbs found her swollen nipples and began rubbing them in delightful little circles, “god, I’ve missed you…”

He gave her a small, shy smile at that and leaned in to kiss her once more, his hands now gliding up and down her sides, his touch so light that all she felt was just the barest tingling of her nerves. She gasped against his lips, and her hands somehow managed to find his back. She carefully traced the line of his spine up and down with one pinky while her other hand once again took the opportunity to tousle those silky peroxide locks of his.

“Cor, Buffy,” Spike moaned, his lips leaving her mouth and travelling down to her throat. “I want you so much…”

“I-I’m here,” she finally said shakily, squirming against his hand when it found the zipper to her pants, “and I’m not going anywhere, baby…”

She bucked her hips up off the sarcophagus when he pulled those hideous orange pants down, and she kicked them off of her ankles vigorously, a little sigh of relief escaping her lips now that she was free of all reminders of Double Meat Hell.

She moved to return the favor, reaching out cautiously to stroke the hard bulge at the front of his jeans. He moaned and threw his head back in response, his hips thrusting into her grasp.

Still clutching him gently through the denim, she pushed him to the side and onto his back. He rolled over easily, just like a playful kitten that wanted its tummy rubbed. She giggled when her analogy was heightened further by the little purr he let out when she lowered her mouth to his fly.

That was probably the thing she liked best about sex with Spike: that contented purr of his. It made her feel beautiful, powerful…not to mention the nice way it made his body vibrate all over. There was nothing on this earth that felt better than having a purring vampire’s cock inside her - better than any vibrator invented.

She quickly unfastened the top button and then caught his zipper between her teeth, looking up at him with sultry eyes as she oh-so-slowly pulled it down.

“Buffy,” Spike exclaimed in a ragged whisper, “my love, my everything…”

“Shh,” she hushed him softly, placing one finger over his lips.

He instantly took it into his mouth, sucking on the tip in a sensual way that had her panties uncomfortably sticky within seconds.

Her free hand moved down to where he’d sprung out of his jeans, and she stroked him slowly, in time with his sucks. He whimpered a little and threw his head back, his hips rocking with the slight pulls of her hand.

“That good for you?” she whispered softly, her lips nibbling at his ear as she did so. “You like that, baby?”

“God, yes!” Spike exclaimed in bliss.

“You don’t want more then?” Buffy teased him lightly.

He managed to give her a rather menacing scowl, and she kissed the tip of his nose playfully in response.

“Well, it’s your lucky day,” she informed him, “because you get it anyway.”

With that she slid down his body, placing the occasional kiss on his muscular torso as she did so. When she finally reached his throbbing erection, his eyes squeezed shut tight in anticipation. She paused for a moment, just long enough for him to open his eyes to see what the holdup was. She chose that moment to engulf him completely, allowing his head to brush the back of her throat, looking up at him the entire time he watched her suck him in all the way.

“Oh, please, Buffy!” He was begging her already.

Buffy smiled a little catlike smile as she let his firm cock slip back out of her mouth. Before he had a chance to complain, she took him back in, licking and slurping, her tongue finding every pulsing vein and tracing them with excruciating attention to detail.

By the time she felt his balls beginning to clench, she was confident she knew every millimeter of his length perfectly.

She backed up so that her lips were barely brushing the tip of him when she felt that he was about to cum. He made a little whimpering, mewling noise, and she took that as her sign to finish him off.

Her tongue made one quick flick around his swollen head before she sucked him in once more, her cheeks sinking inwards to grip him tighter and her hands reaching down to gently squeeze his balls.

He fell over the edge with a bestial roar, his cock thrusting up hard into her mouth and clawed fingers ripping at the sheets beneath him as he vamped out in his pleasure.

Buffy took a deep gulp when streams of cool, milky-white fluid spurted into her mouth, making sure to take in everything he had.

He finally stopped shooting into her, still hard, and she released him, waiting patiently for him to look at her before she took a deep gulp, swallowing all of his seed.

He moaned and reached for her with one shaking hand, and she willingly took it, nestling her body up against his.

“My perfect li’l Slayer,” he whispered softly into her hair, his hands on her body surprisingly gentle.

Buffy felt his erection pressing into the soft skin of her inner thigh and thoroughly anticipated being ravished. Spike seemed to have other ideas, however.

His lips brushed her forehead just at her hairline before trailing slowly downward, moving only an inch at a time. He passed her temple, gently kissed the corner of her eye, before travelling down to her cheek. She turned to him after his kiss landed right on one corner of her lips, but he didn’t except her kiss, continuing to move downward to the line of her jaw.

His hands had stopped their frantic roaming of earlier now, and they rested firmly on her waist, holding her still as his unbearably sweet kisses explored the virgin side of her throat.

“S-Spike?” she gasped a little at the intensity of the emotion building between them. “W-What are you doing?”

“Makin’ love to you,” he said matter-of-factly. He paused for a second to look up at her. “’S what I want, pet…what ‘ve always wanted…”

She quickly remembered her earlier promise and didn’t struggle to turn their mating cold and brutal once more…for the first time ever. She merely gave him a meek little nod to continue, shutting her eyes tight, praying that she would still be strong enough to fight against his love in the morning.

It seemed silly now, with him bringing her body to the heights of pleasure even with the most casual of touches, the complete and utter devotion in his eyes plain for her to see. So, she just let it all go. Tonight, there was nothing else. Just the two of them. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who needed to forget one last time…

He had only reached her collarbone still and was kissing his way up and down it repeatedly. Her flesh burned for him, even as she wanted to scream for him to get a move on it. He seemed to anticipate her request just as she had the thought, however, knowing her body just as intimately as she herself did.

He kissed his way all around the curve of her breast, studiously avoiding her needy nipple in his attempts to taste every inch of her. He circled her a few times, moving ever inward until Buffy didn’t think she could wait anymore.

When his lips finally enclosed over the rosy nub, she cried out in delight, a slight orgasm shaking through her even at that. She blinked. Was that even possible?

Spike seemed a bit surprised at her responsiveness as well but just gave her the most satisfied smile she’d ever seen in response. She instantly wanted him again with even more intensity than she had before.

He gave her nipple one last feather-light kiss before moving lower, across her stomach. He paused to circle her navel before dipping his tongue inside for one quick thrust.

Buffy bucked beneath him. She had forgotten just how talented his tongue really was. Her hands clutched in his hair now, pushing him down faster.

He did a remarkably good job keeping his own pace, however. She thought she was about to die by the time he finally reached her rough curls. She shut her eyes, eagerly awaiting his mouth upon the most needy part of her…

But it didn’t come.

“Spike…” she moaned when he moved to her inner thigh instead.

“Just a li’l longer,” he assured her gently. “It’ll make it twice as good, I promise, luv.”

“I-I don’t care,” Buffy gasped.

“But I do,” Spike insisted. He continued to kiss his way down the inside of her leg, bending her knee over his shoulder when he reached her calf and pulling back slowly until he reached her ankle.

She moaned with need when he picked up her other leg and followed the same pattern in reverse. At least he was moving a bit more quickly now.

Lovemaking aside, he still ripped her panties off. Buffy smiled slightly. He loved doing that, she could just tell. Probably made him feel dangerous and manly, or something.

Her reveries were pushed aside when his fingers first gently probed her, however. She let out a desperate little gasp and silently pleaded for him to continue.

By the time his lips finally met her swollen nub of flesh, she was so desperate for him she almost exploded. He cooed softly to her, resting his head against her inner thigh between lazy sucks and licks at the height of her sex.

She looked down at the peroxide head between her legs and couldn’t decide whether she wanted to kill him or make love to him…but, then again, that pretty much summarized her every reaction to the brash, young vampire.

She’d come to this last realization recently, actually. It was hard to think of Spike as ‘young’ when he’d been around for over a century, but in vampire terms… Hell, most hundred-year-old vampires were still minions. But Spike had been forced to grow up fast, ahead of his time. Still, for all that, in vampire terms he probably wasn’t much more mature than she was…especially when it came to matters of the heart. Sometimes it frightened her how much they had in common…

“Spike?” Her voice was between a gasp and a moan now.

“Yeah, pet?” He turned to look up at her.

“C’mere,” she requested softly.

He obeyed her command this time and eagerly devoured the kiss she had waiting for him. Her hands slid into a comfortable position on his shoulders, and she spread her thighs wide, allowing him to slip in between them.

His cock was long and hard and still warm from being in her mouth. Its velvety soft tip rested amidst her curls as he continued to kiss her, his tongue plunging in and out of her mouth slowly, a mock imitation of what she wanted so desperately.

She finally managed to pull away and looked him right in the eyes, one small hand reaching up tentatively to stroke a razor-sharp cheekbone. He shut his eyes and leaned into her touch, another purr shaking through his body, all the more tantalizing now that he was so close to her sex.

“Spike…”

She’d never really used his name all that much when they were together before. She was pretty sure he’d kept a running catalogue of every instance and could recite it back to her in a heartbeat. She didn’t mind that she was giving him lots of fodder tonight, though. He needed it, to keep that sad, lost look out of his eyes.

She had known instinctively that she wouldn’t be able to bear seeing him like that. There was a reason she’d avoided him so much after they’d broken up. That look in his eyes just before she left him… If she still had a heart to break, it would have shattered to pieces then.

“Spike,” she repeated, “I want you.” Apparently, this was a whole night for acting out of character.

He smiled in acknowledgement of this fact as well. “You’ve got me, Buffy,” he said seriously. “Always have. ‘m yours, luv.”

“M-Make love to me.” She was shocked suddenly into the realization that she wanted this just as much as he did. She’d never given him a chance to be like with her before. She’d always known how tender he could be, but not even she could have imagined this…

He slid slowly inside her, letting her stretch out gradually until, inch by inch, her internal walls expanding to accommodate his massive girth.

They both let out a little gasp of completion when he was totally sheathed within her. Buffy slid her legs up the backs of his thighs until they met around his waist. She locked her ankles together and slowly pressed him in deeper, until he could go in no further.

They just stayed like that, locked together in the most intimate of embraces until neither could stand it anymore. They began to rock slowly in time with each other, hips barely moving, both savoring the feel of the other to their fullest abilities.

Spike, somewhat surprisingly, broke eye contact first and settled his head down in the crook of Buffy’s neck. She wound her fingers into his hair, holding him to her, giving him whatever comfort she could with her embrace as they slowly made love.

He responded to her caresses by purring once more, the vibrations tingling that one wonderful spot deep within her…

She returned the favor by using her Slayer muscles on him, squeezing slowly and gently at first before picking up the pace. The secret sexual powers of a Slayer and her Vampire, she thought somewhat giddily.

They continued to lie like that, barely moving at all for all outward appearances, but steadily each of their climaxes was approaching. Spike pushed himself back up to look at her when he sensed their imminent coming.

He favored her with a shy smile and a quick “I love you” before their lips met, and the world came crashing down around them.

For that one brief moment, yes, she was tempted to say that she loved him, too. The realm of ‘can’ and ‘cannot’ died in that second, and ‘do’ and ‘do not’ replaced him. And she did love him, in her own strange way. Even if she couldn’t.

Sanity reasserted itself when the slow, unbearable pleasure finally faded away. Spike collapsed atop her, completely exhausted from the emotional weight of the past day.

Buffy decided to remain with him for the night. Could it really hurt, just this once? That question had already gotten her in more trouble than she’d intended that night, but she tossed the thought aside.

After a few minutes, he finally rolled to the side, pulling her with him. She pillowed her head against his chest, tracing lazy circles on the smooth, pale flesh there, waiting for…something.

“I always thought that I would go back, y’know?” he finally said.

“Mmm?”

“If…I couldn’t make it on my own,” he gulped slightly as tears stung his eyes at the thought, “I could always go back to ‘er. She might not let me in ‘er bed, but…I was family. She’d let me come back…”

“And then she’s gone,” Buffy thought back to her own mother, “and there’s no one like that anymore. No one who loves you unconditionally, no matter what.”

“I love you like that,” he added softly.

“I kn-know,” she admitted shakily. “But, Spike, we can never…”

“Not now,” he insisted. “Now, I just…”

He began crying softly again, and she moved up against him so that he could pillow his head against her chest for once. He took the opportunity immediately, crawling into her arms like a frightened child.

“How do you do it?” he finally asked.

She laughed. “I don’t, really.”

“Yeah…”

“I close myself off. Don’t let anything ever get close again,” she finally confessed.

“No love?” he whimpered slightly. “How can you live without it?”

“You don’t. You just exist.”

“And that’s enough?”

“No.”

“Buffy,” he pleaded, “let me-”

“Spike, stop!” she cut him off vehemently, abruptly.

He nodded shakily against the warmth of her chest.

“Angel’s got her dust,” she said abruptly. “He wants to know if you want it, or if he should keep it, or if the two of you should split it… He says it’s up to you, since you were the one who took care of her all those years and all.”

“What am I supposed to do with ashes?” he asked bitterly.

“Sometimes they’re the only things you have left,” she said softly, stroking his hair.

“Yeah,” he looked up at her. Cocked his head to one side. Looked at her again.

“What?” Buffy managed to giggle slightly. It really was kind of cute, endearing.

“I really do love you,” he finally decided, “with all my heart.”

“Shh,” she hushed him, pulling him back down against her. “Just sleep…”

“You won’t be here when I wake up, will you?” he asked timidly.

“No,” she admitted, “but sleep anyway.”

It wasn’t long before they both lay in each other’s arms once more, sound asleep…

* * *

And true to her word, Buffy awoke first, several hours later, and quietly slipped from his arms, searching for her clothing. Everything had remained remarkably intact with the eternal exception of her panties.

She left them in his bed, another silent reminder, more ashes…

“Good-bye, my love,” she whispered, placing a quick kiss on his forehead. And then she was gone.

Yeah, kind of sad and bittersweet, but - hey - still better than what the writers did... Be sure to give me feedback on this one since Kantayra and short NC17 fics...not so familiar with each other...