Summary: There is supposedly a scene in the final episode where Buffy goes down to the basement of her house to see Spike. The spoiler I read mentioned that they just stood there and stared at one another. This is my story of that meeting, the night before the big battle, my version.

May contain some spoilers so reader beware

Disclaimer: None of the Buffy characters belong to me and never, ever will. Oh and poem was written by an anonymous 18th century poet.

A/N: Well, this is my very first attempt really at an R-rated fic. It's just the one and only chapter, but if I get enough feedback and it's positive, I may do a companion piece after the show has ended. This is very much a spuffy fic, rated R because of the sex. If you could see me now, I'm blushing.

Bundles and oodles of thanks to the supreme Spikealicious for her input, betaing, and overall boost to my morale. Much love, girl, you're splendiferous. And caboodles of thanks and love to my bestest pal, scruffy66, for telling me a while ago I was capable of writing this and other schtuff!

Please, I'm asking nicely for your honest opinions. I love hearing them, they support my muse. Please read and enjoy. Review if you can, I'd appreciate it!! Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!!!


Here she was again. Buffy, standing at the bottom of his basement stairs, as it had become known as his. She stood there, one hand idly resting on the railing, letting it fall slowly to her side.

He had been pacing the floor, holding the amulet, rubbing his fingers across the smooth surface, feeling the power emanating off of it. He could admit to himself...and yes even to her...he was scared. Both were sure that neither one nor the other was going to make it through to the end of this battle. Both knew this was their final night, to be alone, to be with the ones they loved and held most dear to their hearts.

Yet, surprisingly, she had shown up down here, again, with him.

What did she want?

Her face was a mask in the shadows as moonlight streamed through the small slits high up on the walls, multiple rays of white light scattered throughout the room. She took a step forward, into one of those beams. He could see her face now; it was soft, full of vibrancy and wanting.

She ran her eyes down the length of his body, admiring, yearning. The dark, long sleeved shirt he wore was unbuttoned, draped across his shoulders loosely, the contrast of his white skin glowing like a beacon in the night, calling her, pulling her to him. Her eyes traveled back up to his.

What did she want? He nervously wondered to himself.

She chose that moment to answer his silent question, speaking almost too soft for even him to hear.

"I need you more tonight than ever," her voice drifted to him like silk flowing over his skin.

"Wha...?" he was shocked but stopped before finishing the word, chastising himself for questioning anything Buffy said to him.

"You seem surprised that I'm with you." She looked down at her feet warily for a second or two.

He nodded once when she returned his gaze.

She smiled slightly. "Don't be. I've been thinking. This just may be the last..." her smile faded as her voice drifted off.

"Just be here, with me," she finished softly, staring at a spot on the floor a few inches from where he stood.

"I am, luv. Here with you til the end."

"I know, always the one who would never leave." She smiled as she lifted her eyes again to meet his, taking a step towards him, hoping he would do the same.

Something different in her eyes tonight, in her voice, in her movements. Something open and pure. Trusting yet vulnerable. He advanced towards her a bit, cocking his head to the side and watching her with innocent wonderment. It was undeniable.

"This past week, the few nights, when you just held me, you gave me something no one has ever given me; the strength to get through this, to get to this point in time, to go beyond my own expectations. You gave me your heart and your soul. Pure and simple....Thank you."

"You deserve it, Buffy. You're a mighty warrior, a champion of love, an exceptional woman all rolled into one beautiful package and I have never met anyone, not one like you in my whole existence. You've brought me to new heights, out of the depths, taught me so much, believed in me. Thank you."

Neither realized they had silently crept closer to one another, now standing mere inches away. The gap had closed between them unceremoniously. She tilted her face up and gazed at him, eyes penetrating his very being, his very soul. He shivered in anticipation as newly-rekindled passions flared and he raised his hand up, running the backs of his fingers down the side of her face. The act caused her to shiver in return. Not a word passed between them the few minutes they stood and looked into one another. A mutual understanding, a mutual want, a mutual desire.

He felt unworthy to do so, but he initiated the kiss this time, leaning down slightly to capture her soft lips that were calling him, pulling him to her. She moaned in acceptance as gentle hands slid from his torso, across his chest and wrapped around his neck. The unworthiness fell to the wayside as her lips parted and he tasted her sweet mouth, deepening as the sensations became unbearably exciting. Surprisingly it was a little too much even for him at first, burning, scorching, and he pulled away slightly, trailing soft kisses down her jaw line to her ear, nuzzling the soft, sensitive skin just below it.

"Buffy...are you sure about this, luv?" his voice filled with uncertainties but overflowing with love, whispered in her ear.

"I have never been more sure about anything in my entire life. How 'bout you?" her breath tickled the fine hairs around his ear.

"Never more sure. Tell me what you want, love." He started when he was met with a reproachful silence. She pulled back and looked at him, and his dread melted away.

"Make love to me." Foreheads connected as they leaned into one another.

"Only if you make love to me." He was enraptured.

"Deal," she smiled softly as they pulled back from one another.

Another moment of silence passed between them, drinking each other in, memorizing every minute detail, senses on overload. His hands rested on either side of her hips, thumbs idly stroking the skin peaking out between her low cut jeans and her belly shirt; hers playfully running up and down his forearms until he couldn't stand it any longer. He lifted a hand to her arm, running it down to capture her teasing fingers. His skin tingled from her touch as he pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles tenderly, eyes dancing as he glanced up at her.

He remembered the stack of clean blankets that were sitting near the washing machine and turned away to find them. Scooping up two comforters, he brought them back to where she remained standing and as he unfolded them to toss on the basement floor, one on top of the other, she moved away to retrieve other bed related linens.

He turned around swiftly and the couple collided. Giggles erupted from the petite slayer as she dropped the sheets and blanket onto the pre-made pallet, causing him to chuckle as well. The awkwardness surrounding them was peculiar but soon faded away as hands found one another again, touching, caressing. In actuality, it was going to be their first time, the first real and mutual loving act between them. Both were nervous, both were anxious.

Simultaneously, they lowered themselves to their knees, completely absorbed in one another, very much tangible. The kiss was smoldering, as tongues touched tenderly, almost shyly at first. His lips were gentle, tender, and careful so she made the daring move in deeper, searching the cool moistness, kissing hungrily. The yearning exploded in his chest as he growled from deep within, feeling his need harden immediately.

Surprisingly, they both pulled back suddenly, both panting from the sensual rush, and agreeing silently to slow down and enjoy each other, revel in one another.

Breathing regulated just as she slid her hands across the smooth planes of his muscular chest and up to shoulders, sneaking under his shirt. In one fluid movement, the shirt was off and lying across his legs behind him.

He, on the other hand, took the undressing of Buffy much slower. Playfully, he languorously pulled the string that was tied in a bow at the top of her blouse. Once undone, he slowly ran his index finger down to the button a few inches below it, barely brushing the exposed flesh he was uncovering. The final button rested above her belly button and once he unfastened it, he slowly and gingerly divested of the garment, all the while raining sweet kisses across her collarbone, trailing up to the round of her shoulder. She shuddered just from the intensity of the kisses he was bestowing on her overly sensitive skin.

Without warning, he wrapped his arm around her waist, hoisted her up and pulled her onto his body in a single motion. The fire spread through him as he brought her stomach against his. Turning them slightly, he gently lowered her down onto the floor, hovering over her trembling form, pausing for an instant, looking into her face, waiting for any sign of disgust or regret. The flame he saw burning behind her eyes made him choke with desire, a sudden fervor encompassing him from head to toe.

Buffy reached up and ran her fingers over the features of his face, drinking every ounce of him in. In the very midst of wild intoxicating passions, unwanted tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. She didn't want to cry, not now.

"You are so...I want you so much. I want to be one with you, feel you in me, around me. I want to forget about everything else, what lies ahead. I wish time would stand still just for us."

"Buffy....Beautiful, beautiful Buffy." he whispered to her, leaning down, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.

His mouth moved down, lips barely brushing over her chin and the hollow of her throat, bestowing kisses here and there, down to rest at her cleavage. Her bra had a front clasp, and Spike found himself thanking whomever for inventing them. He chuckled silently as he deftly undid the hook with his thumb and forefinger, releasing the constraints on her small but perfect breasts.

He delighted in them for a split second and she watched him doing so, arching slightly as she conveyed a welcoming invitation. Unbelievably, as his mouth hungrily moved towards them, he didn't take either one of them in his mouth. Rather, he placed a chaste kiss on each pert, rosy nipple and Buffy smiled when he looked down at her through his lashes. He continued his path down her quivering body, stopping yet again at her bellybutton, worshipping it as he slyly ran his finger along the top of her jeans, back and forth.

As he continued his ministrations, she ran her fingers through his ungelled hair, pulling up all the curls, just the way she liked it. The sensation of his cool finger brushing to and fro across the top of her abdomen caused a thrill to travel straight up to her tummy and down low to her womb. A pleasing, scintillating feeling she didn't want to end, but unbearable anticipation took over as the button on her jeans came undone, the zipper slowly and painstakingly pulled down, driving her insane. And of all things good and evil, he stopped there and moved down to her...feet?

Buffy raised her head up off the floor, glaring lovingly at the man sitting between her feet, his eyes glowing with an almost animalistic pleasure. He had grasped a foot still wearing a shoe, leisurely untied the string and just as slowly, slipped it off her foot casually. He reached up under the hem of her pants, tugging and rolling the sock off as well. Before releasing her tiny but deadly foot, he raised it up to his mouth and delivered a kiss onto each piggy. Buffy giggled while she scrunched up her nose with only a slight repulsion at the unbelievable tender act. He smiled unabashedly, continuing the process to the other foot.

Buffy sighed, pleasure radiating from every square inch of her. He was back between her legs, kissing her belly exposed above her panties. Pure bliss as he felt the heat rising off of her, the wanting coming off of her in waves. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her jeans, gradually pulling them down over her raised hips, over her supple thighs as she raised one leg to uncover then the other.

Prior to moving back up her body though, he delivered a long, wet kiss through the thin cloth of her lacy panties to the most sensitive area at the apex of her inner thighs. Her hips rose as she drew in a sharp breath. That one gesture was mind-blowing ecstasy, the deep moan rolling up from her chest and slipping between her lips proved to him just that. Her musky scent grabbed his attention, his senses in overdrive, tantalizing and mouth-watering.

She sat up abruptly, bra sliding down her arms and over her hands. A fierce, desperate urgency in her caught him by surprise as she pulled his face to hers, crushing her lips to his, almost knocking him off balance but she held on steadfast. His hands, his cool fingertips swiftly ran up the back of her neck into her golden tresses, grasping and clinging. Her fingers made fiery trails down his chest, across his abdomen. He, gasping into her mouth when she cupped his hardness, wanted to feel her skin against his. Her movements were quicker, unbuttoning and unzipping, releasing his erection.

He was dying all over again, but this particular time, he didn't mind it much at all. The sweet wine of her tongue suddenly caused little bursts of fire deep in the pit of his gut, the awakenings, the sensations, overwhelming need and want. It was almost too much to bear...almost. It had been so very long, too long. He just wanted to feel her surrounding him, to be engulfed in her searing depths, penetrating over and over again. Seemed she wanted it, too, as jeans were pushed, pulled, twisted, done away with. The only barrier remaining slid away like butter as well, over her muscular, tanned legs and tossed to the side.

Buffy pulled him along with her, back down to their crude bed on the cement floor. Naked bodies aligned, melded, ravished, relished in one another. Absolutely no hesitancy whatsoever. An extraordinary turn of events bringing these lost souls together in blinding passion, scorching heat, and above all, a love like no other.

Predestined? Preordained? No one would ever know the prophetic realities, past, present, future, these two shared, both warriors, pitted against each other from the beginning of time. A slayer and a vampire. Enemies who, through all the death, the killing, the bloodshed, ended up entwined around each others lives, drifting in and out.

She, a girl called to rid the world of evil, now a woman who had learned the 'so called world' wasn't made up of black and white. Evil could not be categorized by every single demon. Humans could be just as evil if not worse. Souls didn't matter; it was the true being inside that held the potential, the faith, the determination to do what was right.

"I want you, now." Buffy moaned out breathlessly.

He, once human, so full of love and tenderness, wanted to see the world through different eyes, got more than he wanted. Evil was part of the package, the demon's party favor. But all along, he had the will to change it. Falling so deeply, captivated by this nymph, enamored, crawling all the way out of the pits of darkness, doing the unimaginable. He had learned so much in the last three years from this goddess beneath him, asking for him, taking and giving, than all the previous years of his being.

She invited him in, spreading thighs open wide. The look in her eyes told him it was more than okay to proceed as he slipped deliciously into her and a small cry of pleasure escaped her. Wet, hot, blinding need of both of them exceeding beyond anticipation. A perfect fit still as she pulled him in even deeper.

Stillness. Neither one dared to move as bodies became accustomed to each other once again, enjoying the feel of being one, the familiarity of the other. As if reading each other's minds, the thrusts began in unison, slow at first, building into a crescendo as they continued. Buffy playfully nipped at his collarbone, licking, kissing, and murmuring loving sentiments while he nuzzled her neck, placing wet kisses along the curve of it.

The fires were being stoked, the sensations in both growing and begging for release. Bodies on the edge, ready to topple over, were teetering on the brink. Astonishingly, they were at one with each other from start to end. Their bodies fusing together with the final thrust as the last delicious, shuddering moments came on them simultaneously.

"Oh," Buffy gasped, a pleasing sound, "Spike."

He, on the other hand, was rendered speechless, as wave upon wave crashed over the two of them. He felt her muscles clamp around him, spasming, shivering, shuddering against him not sure where his body began and hers ended. They had come full circle, reached a comfort level, a trust, a security with each other.

He slowly fell limp across her, mouth close to her ear. "I love you, Buffy."

He heard her intake of breath. He didn't care anymore, didn't mind not hearing her return the affection. The physical responses of their lovemaking were enough for him and actions spoke louder than words.

Buffy pushed him up off of her slightly, her eyes searching his. Her cheeks were flushed by the dizzying up rush of long pent up emotions.

"I know you do, and I thank you so very much for the love you have given to me. I just...I can't..."

"Shhh, not to worry, love. No more worries, Buffy. Doesn't matter what you can or cannot say."

"But I should be...You're in my heart and I...I'm afraid...and it's not enough." she finished in a whisper.

She knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was the best she could offer right now at this perfect moment and she didn't want it spoiled. Hoping upon hope he would accept it. He smiled so lovingly at her, eyes sparkling, soul laid out in the open for her eyes only.

"I love you so very much. You give me too much just by being here, right now, with me. It's enough for me to know that. You're enough for me."

Her body responded to his claim, his reaction, and another wave of pleasure awakened in her again. She hooked her leg behind his and rolled them over, straddling his hips while he reeled at being unprepared for her superior move. The playful look in her eyes told him she wanted another go.

"Again?" he asked huskily.

"Mmhmm," she nodded her head up and down.

His response prodded at her slick opening, begging for entrance as she aroused him once again. She leaned closer to his mouth, grasping his bottom lip between her teeth, biting down softly, then running the tip of her tongue over the same spot. He groaned in exasperation, grabbing her hips and lifting just enough, as she settled over him, sliding down, his shaft enveloped completely in her.

She kissed him tenderly, passionately, lovingly, pulling away. He moaned from the loss of contact with her warm and inviting mouth, but she sat up, causing new sensations to come out and play. Spike raised his bent legs up, giving Buffy something to lean back on, as she placed her hands on his knees, using them to brace herself while pumping up and down on him.

This was something different, he mused. And he thought they had done it all, things he never knew were possible between two sex starved people. Grabbing her thighs, he pushed up and plunged in deeper with every stroke. His eyes felt as if they had rolled to the back of his head with every gratifying stroke. She never ceased to amaze him, this was heaven indeed and the fears of the impending battle that loomed over them dissipated on this night of wonders.

Once again, as if it was meant to be, they both crested, hitting the summit, synchronized, their bodies in unison. Both spiraled into the vortex, gasping, clutching, moaning. He rolled them over to their sides, still embedded in her to the hilt, hard and solid as the spasms ebbed and receded. He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want her to see the tears that were flowing, feeling overwhelmed from it all.

He was supposed to be a demon, inhuman, incapable of feeling; yet he had proved to them all that he was nothing like that. He was more a man now than he ever was before only because of this creature, this female, his Venus wrapped around him so tightly, neither really wanting to ever let go.

He took a chance and looked at her, surprised to find her face wet, eyes glistening from the unshed tears pooling there. She placed her hand, palm side down, to the side of his face and looked at him. Minutes passed.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, hating to intrude on the moment.

"You are truly magnificent." she whispered back.

"Only because of you, my love." His voice was like honey, dripping down over her, making her feel warm, loved, needed. She shook her head back and forth.

"I can't take the credit. You need to realize how much you have accomplished on your own. I was just the cushion, to catch you if you fell. And I'd do it all over again if I had to. You've gone beyond what I never, in my right mind, thought that you would ever do."

He lightly grasped her wrist, pulling her hand over to his mouth and kissed the palm before placing it back onto his cheek, weeping uncontrollably. He wasn't ashamed to cry in front of her. Not anymore.

She brought his hand that was still resting on top of hers to her chest, putting it over her beating heart.

"Do you feel this, feel the warmth?"

He nodded once, "Mmhmm."

"That's you, in here, in me. Glowing, burning, beating. In my heart." She wanted to give him more but her normal insecurities and fears hovered nearby.

He leaned into her, kissing her softly and tenderly, lowering his head until it rested on her chest, between her breasts, breathing her in, feeling the beats, listening intently.

"I love you, Buffy. Now...and forever. Always."

She kissed the top of his head and lingered there. "I know, William. I know."

Reaching behind him, he grabbed a sheet and pulled it over them, tucking it around both of their bodies. Sleep took them instantly, side by side in the slow-cooling aftermath.


He felt warmth. He knew morning had come, and he felt the warmth. Her body, her heat, her breath. She was still there with him. She hadn't left him to wake up cold and alone. There was a first for everything and this first had him dancing internally. Nobody knew that, yes, he did have a dance.

Ah, and she was awake. He was on his back, his arm tucked under her pliable, warm body which was running down the length of his, her right leg thrown casually over his. He turned his head and opened his eyes. There she was, head propped up on her hand, looking down at him, eyes shining, smiling ever so sweetly.

"It's like trying to wake the dead," she quipped, her other hand drawing lazy circles over his smooth chest. He chuckled at her play on words.

"Well, it does make it a chore. How long you been awake?"

"Not long, few minutes. Just been watching you, looking at you."

"And what you lookin' at, luv?" he queried.

"Things. Memorizing. Lines, scars and features, freckles and hairs. You're beautiful."

"Hey, don't you mean ruggedly handsome? And I don't have freckles." He jested back.

"Oh, so sorry. Moles then. Especially this one, right here." She placed her finger gently on the mark below his right eye. Using the same finger, she traced the v-shaped scar on his left eyebrow, ran her finger down the straight line of his nose, across both protruding cheekbones, over his full bottom lip, taking into account how soft and supple it was, and ending on the mole just below his chin.

"See? Beautiful."

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You, sweet girl, are too beautiful for words, lest I be brave enough to try, and embarrassed when I begin to spout off poetry, and I don't want to chase you off just yet.

"Hmmm, try me." She leaned in to whisper into his ear, sending waves of shivers down his spine. He sighed, contemplated and then, with a sensuous voice, began.

"I gently touched her hand; she gave

A look that did my soul enslave;

I pressed her rebel lips in vain;

They rose up to be pressed again.

Thus happy, I no farther meant,

Than to be pleased and innocent.

On her soft breasts my hand I laid,

And a quick, light impression made;

They with a kindly warmth did glow,

And swelled, and seemed to overflow.

Yet, trust me, I no farther meant,

Than to be pleased and innocent.

On her eyes my eyes did stay;

O'er her smooth limbs my hands did stray;

Each sense was ravished with delight,

And my soul stood prepared for flight.

Blame me not if at last I meant

More to be pleased than innocent."

He turned over to look at her, afraid she think him a sappy ponce. Her eyes told him otherwise.

"Breathtaking. Yours?"

"Pfft, I wish. Just something I remember reading, stuck with me. Thought about you when I read it actually, probably why I memorized it. My stuff? Sucks, beyond any reasonable doubt, haven't memorized any of it."

"I think you're fibbing, but I won't push. Maybe, one day...?"

"Maybe." He smiled coyly at her.

Noises from above brought them both out of their reverie. The couple looked up at the ceiling, both sighing in disdain.

"The sun rises, the world awakens and..." A shrill voice echoed throughout the whole house.


"...and it calls." She finished for him.

Standing up together, they picked up clothes and began to silently dress, but before he could pull his t-shirt over his head, she grabbed it and clutched it to herself. He cocked his head to the side and looked at her in amusement.

"I'm going for comfortableness today. You mind?" and she pulled it on.

"Not at all, got plenty others, same color and everything."

"Don't I know it."

As soon as he finished dressing and they picked the blankets and sheets up off the floor, she began the trek up out of the basement, pulling him along with her. He was surprised at first, but after their night, nothing would amaze him anymore.

At the top of the stairs, he turned to her and she kissed him soundly. Pulling back he touched the tip of her nose with his, softly brushing it.

"Ready to face the troops?" he seriously asked her.

"Now?...I'm ready for anything anyone wants to throw at me.

He smiled and cocked his head to the side. "Hmm, surprisingly, I am, too."