Disclaimer: Yes, I secretly own Spike. I created the whole character, But I foolishly mentioned him to my good pal Joss and then, like, a week later he totally appears on television, and I'm like: "Joss, you evil plagarizer!!" And he's all, "Ha! No one will ever believe you, deluded fan girl!" And then I wake up. (Yes, I am on crack. Thanks so much for asking. ~_^)

Author's Note: Hmm, some people have been asking how long this story's going to be. Well, originally it was set for 22 chapters. *looks at current chapter number and blinks* Bye, folks! Guess it ended three chapters back; just forget they occurred, okay? ~_^ Seriously, I'm not exactly sure since my outline was so off. I'm guessing it'll end somewhere in the early 30s, though. (Great. Now it will probably be 50 just to spite me. ^_^)

Previously: Hot biteyness. Mmm...biteyness... ^_^ Oh, and Siggy's run off to get Eustacia Collins to help with the spell to kill the Haunting, while Dawn and Rick are after Ms. Danvers, whom they think is the Haunting's current host. And so we continue... (Mmm...biteyness... *drool*)

Thu-Thump.

Deep in the blackness, a consciousness slowly stirred to life. It was a lazy, comfortable awakening, provoked slowly by that one sound...

Thu-Thump.

Rr-rrrr.

The drowsy shroud of non-existence was slowly fading away now, leaving her only to wonder. Who am I? Where am I? Am I alive?

Thu-Thump.

Rr-rrrr.

She felt bodiless, like she existed in a fuzzy world of warmth, love, and contentment. A distant memory came back to her, and she wondered once more. Is that it? Am I in Heaven?

Thu-Thump.

Rr-rrrr.

She had been dimly aware of the sound before now, of course, but it first truly caught her attention at this point, and she puzzled over it. It was a perplexing mystery, a...

Thu-Thump.

Rr-rrrr.

She felt a touch, so soft and so sweet and so tender. The touch made her aware that, indeed, she was still in her body. She was still alive. The thought was all she needed to place the first sound.

Thu-Thump.

Her heartbeat.

Rr-rrrr.

So what was that?

The haze of slumber slowly lifted from her mind as the events of earlier came back to her. Spike suckling at her throat, that amazing connection, and then...oh, sweet release. The warmth in her limbs increased at the memory, bringing her back into the world of the living...

Thu-Thump.

Rr-rrrr.

 Spike and I made love. The thought sent a giddy little thrill through her spine. It was unlike any lovemaking she had ever experienced, of course, but there was nothing else to describe what she – no, they – had felt when he was inside her.

She stirred slightly, and the feel of lips, like soft, dewy rose petals, against the sensitive spot on her throat increased in intensity, welcoming her back into his bed.

Rr-rrrr, rr-rrrr, rr-rrrr...

Buffy opened her eyes and smiled at the vampire beside her. "'Morning," she said with a sleepy yawn, noticing with some surprise that he'd apparently relocated them both to the bed.

"You feelin' all right?" he asked cautiously, a hint of pride in his eyes as they darted to the newest scar on her neck for a brief instant.

"Mmm." Her fingers tentatively reached up to feel his mark. The skin was tender and sensitive there, and she felt little tingles of desire run through her body. The memory of what his own lips had felt like upon her skin there caused her mouth to go dry. "How much did you take?"

"Not too much," he assured her. "Potent stuff, Slayer blood is."

"But then why did I—?" She froze in mid-sentence.

A cocky, self-satisfied leer spread across his features, and the tip of his tongue curled up behind his front teeth in seductive invitation.

Buffy blushed. Okay, so she'd never actually blacked out from the force of an orgasm before, but...damn, that had been good... "Oh." She managed a hesitant smile at that and curled up closer against him. "How's the wound?" she inquired softly against the curve of his shoulder.

"Closed up," he whispered against her hair. "Still a bit tender, but should be right as rain in a few days." Startling blue eyes glanced down at the sheet between them shyly. "Owe you for that, pet."

Rr-rrrr.

The sound was back, and a smile lit up Buffy's face as she finally identified it. "You're purring," she said in delight.

"Am not!" Big Bad bluster was out in full force, feathers thoroughly ruffled.

Buffy merely placed one hand on his chest right over where his heart would be and felt the low vibrations rumbling through him. His eyelids fluttered shut at the caress, and the vibrations intensified. "You so are," Buffy countered.

He scowled at her. "Vampires don't purr," he insisted in a huff, pulling away from her so he could lie on his back, arms crossed in front of his chest sullenly. It didn't stop the damn purring, though.

Buffy sighed and decided retreat was the better part of valor. "Okay," she pretended to agree, "I guess you would know." She sidled up against him, his arms slipping around her, and she lay her head on his chest. Mmm, benefits to harmless lie: Purring-Spike pillow. Definitely worth it.

His aspect softened as he watched her snuggle against him, but he still refused to cave in. "Damn right."

Buffy just laughed. God, he could be just as stubborn as she was about things. Talk about denial... "I love you." The words were accompanied by a soft kiss to his own neck, right over where his pulse had once beaten.

Spike froze at that. He knew, of course. He'd felt the words earlier in her mind, her heart, the pull of her blood. But to hear them spoken aloud... "Y-You don't know what you're sayin'," he insisted.

She rolled her eyes. The stubbornness was going to continue, it seemed. "I know exactly what I'm saying," she assured him, propping herself up on her elbows so that she could look down at him. "Whatever happened last night..."

Her memories flashed through the glimpses she had gleaned from his own memory. The ultimate mating for vampires, complete openness and exposure, Spike's own previous experience – sacred because he had once cherished Drusilla, but also painful due to her broken mind. But last night...oh, she had showed him what love was really about.

"Last night," she repeated with a little gulp, "I-I know it sort of came out of left field for the both of us. We both went into it thinking it would just be a bite, and it became...more. But I don't regret what happened for a second. You were – are – so beautiful inside."

A glint of fear that he would never have acknowledged flashed through his eyes. She had seen everything last night. Everything. He couldn't recall ever feeling this raw and exposed to someone else before. He'd always had at least some safety – the wall of his persona – to hide behind before. But now...

"Shh..." Her fingertip brushed his lips just as he parted them to say...well, not even he knew what.

Buffy watched the swirling emotions in his cerulean eyes and planned her strategy. She could see his fear, but accusing him of being afraid was a surefire way to make him close himself off.

"I'm frightened," she finally admitted softly, her fingers still lingering on his full lower lip. "I... It's just that you saw everything, and if you turn away from me now..." She let the statement hang.

"Shh, luv," he soothed her, taking her into his arms and holding her close. "Know exactly what you mean."

She reveled in the feel of his Buffy-warmed embrace, the return of the Spike who actually cared. "I never thought about what a demon's mind would be like before," she admitted softly, "but I never would've believed... It's not scary or nasty or bad at all. It was just...beautiful. And I think that's the most terrifying thing of all."

A definite pause and a tension in his muscles as if he were pondering something, and then he placed a soft kiss in her hair. "Only half-believed this wasn't just another of your mind games, y'know? Never would've thought that you, of all people... How can you...?"

"Love you?" Buffy finished. "After all that's happened between us? You know how. It's the same reason you do." She looked up at him at that, wide hazel eyes and radiant smile.

A moment's hesitation, a whispered "I love you" slipping from his lips, and then their mouths met in a furious kiss to dwarf all passion they had ever shared before...

"Do we knock?" Rick inquired.

Dawn eyed the door speculatively and reached up to rap on it with her knuckles.

A scuffle inside, but no response.

Rick and Dawn exchanged a skeptical look. Dawn knocked again. "We know you're in there, Ms. Danvers."

Still no answer.

"All right, that's it," Dawn fumed. "Step back," she instructed Rick.

He watched curiously over the rims of his sunglasses as she took a deep breath. "What are you—?" he began.

A violent kick, and the door shattered on its hinges. Dawn gave Rick an unrepentant grin. "One of the tricks I learned growing up with a Slayer for a sister," she joked lightly.

He nodded numbly and reminded himself never to get on her bad side. "After you?" he offered, gesturing to the apartment.

Dawn steeled herself up and entered the apartment. "No lights?" she inquired curiously, feeling around for the switch.

Rick found it first. A flick and the room remained dark. "No lights," he concurred.

"Décor by Spike," Dawn joked lightly, walking out into the spacious living area. Fortunately, it was still light enough outside that she could see to move. "Ms. Danvers has flown the coup?" she guessed.

Rick turned down the hallway that led back to the rest of the apartment. "If she is not here..." he began. And cried out in alarm...

Siggy stomped on the pavement, knocking off the layer of snow that had accumulated on the soles of her boots. She rang the bell again pointedly as she waited, spotting a rustle in the curtains this time before the clicks of a door unlocking.

"You are Ms. Collins?" she said in a brisk voice the instant the old woman had opened the door.

"Yes?" Ms. Collins was obviously suspicious given the number of demon hunters that had been to her door in the last two weeks.

"The Haunting is about to escape," Siggy began matter-of-factly. "We—"

"I said I wanted no part of that!" Ms. Collins insisted, trying to slam the door in Siggy's face.

The hard rubber toe of Siggy's boot prevented it from closing. "It is urgent that you assist us," she continued stubbornly.

Ms. Collins fumbled to get the door shut. "Leave now, or I call the police," she yelled harshly.

"You may call the police all you want," Siggy shrugged, "but they will not be able to help you once the Shur-Ashk-Um-Ur-Abi is freed from its prison and lets its powers loose upon this town. Perhaps it will even remember how you locked it away in the first place."

Ms. Collins' face had gone white as a sheet. "I-It can't escape," she insisted anxiously.

"It is rebuilding its strength," Siggy countered. "Already it is able to move objects, create illusions. And once it captures a strong enough host—"

"It'll be free again." Ms. Collins was visibly shaking again now. "I-I knew it," she almost pleaded. "I knew the spell we used wasn't as strong – wasn't strong enough – but they didn't listen to me, and..."

"And now they are dead, and if you do not help again, the Haunting will rise even more powerful than before," Siggy concluded.

"You have a way to stop it?" Ms. Collins asked speculatively.

"We have," Siggy agreed. "You yourself provided us with the book."

"That spell requires a full circle capable of reading the Kassite," Ms. Collins scoffed. "We don't—"

"We have," Siggy repeated. "With you as the third, I believe?" she inquired pointedly.

Ms. Collins nodded slowly. "Yes, I can read it but...well, if the host is as strong as you say..."

"The host now is weak," Siggy countered. "We must finish this before it is too late."

Ms. Collins' jaw tightened. "They said that the last time. Do you have any idea how many died?"

"Do you have any idea how many have died so far this time?" Siggy retorted. "Surely, you have read the papers."

A glum nod.

"You, more than anyone, know how dangerous the Haunting is," Siggy pleaded. "We have one last chance to stop it. You have a nephew, I believe?" she changed tactics.

"D-David," Ms. Collins agreed slowly. "Why—?"

"You have fought all your life to separate him from the horror at the lodge," Siggy concluded. "If the Haunting escapes and he is the next casualty, it will be all for nothing."

Ms. Collins nodded slowly. "My magic isn't what it used to be," she made one final protest.

"It is all we have," Siggy replied simply.

With a loud crash, Rick fell across the table, the motion stunning him for the second the waif-like figure needed to race by him.

Dawn saw the slight form streaming by and out the door but ran to Rick instead, calling out in alarm.

"I am fine!" he insisted quickly. "She just caught me off guard. Catch her."

Dawn ran out the door in response to that and came to a halt in the hallway. Both directions yielded nothing, and she swore inwardly at having lost their quarry.

In the meantime, Rick had extricated himself from the shattered remains of the table and stood beside Dawn in the hallway. "She got a—?" he began to ask.

Dawn cut him off with a hand covering his mouth.

And, just in that moment of silence, they heard the sound of a door swinging shut around the bend of the right corridor.

"The lobby," Dawn announced, breaking into a run once more. "She's gone outside."

Side by side, they rounded the final bend and dashed out the still-swinging door into the winter snow.

"Tracks," Rick pointed out a series of depressions in the snow.

Dawn grimaced, and they both – without even boots – trudged their way after the old innkeeper. "She's spry for such an old woman, isn't she?" Dawn commented.

Rick nodded. "She is headed for the temple," he decided.

"I've come to the same conclusion," Dawn agreed. "We still have that rope out here?"

Rick shook his head. "Do we have time to go back for one?"

"Who knows what she's doing down there," Dawn shot back. "I don't want to take that risk."

They both came to a halt when the footprints came to an abrupt end right at the edge of the black hole.

"You can jump that?" Dawn inquired.

Rick nodded, caught her up in his arms, and then the two of them vanished into the black void below...

Buffy smiled softly. "Tell me more," she requested.

"'Bout what?" he countered. "'Sides, it's your turn."

"It so isn't," she shot back. "I just went through the whole horror than was marriage to Ryan."

He placed a sympathetic kiss on her forehead. "Right then, so what d'you wanna hear?"

Buffy bit her lower lip. "Tell me about the two humans you killed," she finally pressed.

Spike rolled his eyes. "This ring of déjà vu to you?"

She frowned for a second before his eyes widened with recognition. "You're not going to make me buy you spicy buffalo wings again, are you?" she teased back.

He smiled, and those little crinkles that so fascinated her formed at the edges of his eyes. "Can at least promise there won't be any bloody sex parts this time," he offered in conciliation.

She nodded and propped her head up on one elbow. "It's all right. Tell me."

Reluctance ran deep, though. "Why d'you wanna hear about that? 'S unpleasant and—"

"Because it is unpleasant," Buffy countered. "Do you have any idea how amazing that is coming from a demon's mouth? But there's still... You have still, despite it all, killed three humans and... I guess I can never agree with you, and that's one of the major differences between us."

"And we want to dwell on these sorts of things?" he countered, running feather-light touches up and down her arm. "Isn't it more fun to...?" A soft nibble at her shoulder.

She sighed in satisfaction. "Definitely of the fun," she agreed. "But we have to face the darker stuff or..." She trailed off apologetically and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "You saw what happened when I closed myself off last time."

"Hurt so much," he agreed in a ragged tone. "To be so close, but still so far..."

"Then, don't let the same thing happen twice," Buffy pleaded. "I want to know it all this time. And, yeah, I'll always think I'm right, and you'll probably always think you're right, but you know what? I'm starting to think it's possible for us both to be stubbornly right and for neither of us to really be wrong."

"Don't tell me my Slayer is finally startin' to see some shades of gray in the world," he teased lightly.

"The whole world's gray," she countered, catching his hand and intertwining her fingers with his. "Or maybe it's color. But, either way... You can tell me, William."

A soft smile lit up his face at that. As a vampire, he had always despised his human name. But the way she said it... It sounded like music to his ears. "Right then," he agreed with a sigh. "First time was this woman named Delilah. Had it in mind to use herself as a vessel for the apocalypse and..."

Buffy laid her head back down on the pillow and sighed as she became wrapped up in his usual overblown storytelling technique. The more she learned about this man, the more he seemed like a spellbinding book to her – one of those mysteries where you just couldn't help yourself from turning the next page. And she realized that she did want to know it all now – the good, the bad, and the ugly – because, in the end, she knew that what she would find was just Spike, and she never wanted to let him go again...

OK, am I weird for thinking that parts of Buffy and Spike's reconciliation are too private even to write down? (Yes, I so know I am. But that's why I didn't include the conversation if anyone cares. ~_^) And, yeah, more coming soon, of course...