Part 2
Buffy swung her legs over the side of the bed, and sat up. Her bare feet rested on the soft carpet as she glanced around her empty room. All of her stuff was downstairs in boxes waiting to be moved back to her dorm room. After this summer, Buffy wasn’t sure she would ever be able to sleep in her own room again. Luckily, she was moving back to the dorms tomorrow, so she only had one night to spend alone in her room.
Buffy stood up, and glanced back at Spike who had fallen back asleep. Buffy stared at his sleeping face, and she felt tears well in her eyes for the first time.
The plan was to have things go back to normal, as if the summer never happened, but to Buffy Spike had become what was normal in her life. All summer it had been Spike, and Buffy. It had been the best summer of her life, and it was all ending today in less than an hour.
Buffy wiped the tears from her eyes, and walked to the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the shower, and stepped under the warm water. The previous night’s memories flooded her mind.
~~~
When the credits started rolling on the screen, Spike reached over, and grabbed the remote. He pushed stop, and turned the TV off. Silence permeated the room, and Spike tossed the remote back onto the table. They hadn’t spoken since Buffy arrived, and now Spike struggled for something to say.
Buffy was still lying with her head on his chest with his arm around her shoulders. Her hand rested intimately on his thigh, and Spike placed his own hand over hers entwining his fingers through hers.
Buffy gave him a small smile before sitting up. Spike stretched his arms over his head, and asked, “Are you hungry, pet?”
Buffy shook her head no, and replied, “I ate before I came home.”
Spike nodded his head, and stood up. He sauntered out of the room leaving Buffy alone. The knowledge that this was their last night together weighed heavily on both of them. Feeling like she had been left naked, Buffy waited only a beat before following Spike into the kitchen.
Buffy walked into the kitchen, and leaned against the doorjamb. Spike stood in front of the microwave waiting for his blood to heat up. Spike knew she would follow him, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to tell her the truth. He didn’t want to tell her that he loved her, and wanted to be with her, because what if she didn’t feel the same.
The microwave beeped, and Spike removed his mug of blood. He sipped it slowly at first before gulping the whole mug down in a few quick gulps. Buffy watched him unfazed. It was a normal occurrence for Buffy to see Spike drink his blood, and Buffy was used to it.
When Spike finished, he carried the mug to the sink, and washed it out. He placed the mug in the sink before leaning his hands on the counter, and lowering his head.
When Spike didn’t move, Buffy walked over to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. She laid her head on his T-shirt clad back, and closed her eyes enjoying the feeling. Buffy didn’t want to tell Spike she didn’t want him to leave tomorrow, because what if he wanted to leave.
“Did you take all your blood to your new place?” Buffy asked quietly.
“Yeah, I don’t want your mates to ask any questions,” Spike answered.
Buffy nodded against his back the soft fabric of his T-shirt scratching her cheek. She placed a quick kiss on his back, and moved her hands to the waistband of his jeans. As her hands brushed over the front of his pants, Spike closed his eyes. Pleasure coursed through his body, and he became instantly aroused. No one before had ever been able to turn him on so fully at the slightest touch. He knew Buffy was special.
“Let’s have fun tonight,” Buffy murmured, “for our last night.”
In an instant, Spike turned around, and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. He poured all his emotions into the kiss. All the pent up frustration, desire, hopelessness, confusion, passion, and love Spike had for Buffy came pouring out in their embrace.
Buffy clutched at Spike desperately afraid he was going to vanish. Within seconds, Spike had her on the island, in the middle of the kitchen, clawing at her clothing that was a barrier to what he wanted, what he needed.