This is just a one shot fic exploring a Buffy/Snape relationship.


I knew it would come to this.

I knew it that day when I first saw you, sitting alone in a dark corner of that dirty pub. Your eyes were full of mystery and secret. It was obvious then that you were not looking for company, yet you didn't turn me away.

I couldn't help but to be drawn to you. I have always wanted what I couldn't have.


Angel was the first.

Spike was supposed to be the last.

But you were a challenge I couldn't refuse.

You used to look at me with such disdain, in the hopes that I would leave you alone. For it scared you that I actually wanted to get to know you.

I still wish I could have had five minutes alone with those who caused you so much pain.

It took a long time for you to open up to me, even the tiniest bit, but it didn't stop me from trying to find out who you were.

You told me about the Order, and I joined primarily to spend more time with you.

Yet you still tried to avoid me as much as possible, until you saw me with dance with Lupin.

After that, I felt your dark eyes following my every move. For you, though, it was mostly lust – or so I thought.

You can imagine my shock when I found out that you actually cared.

"The order needs you, you idiot girl. Go, then, run off and get yourself killed, see if I care!" you used to say; but you followed me, every night, hiding in the shadows.

I could feel your presence.

You were there the night I faced off against four master vampires – a trap set by your fellow death eaters – and you fought by my side.

That night we became lovers.

We were both demanding and passionate. Tenderness came later – along with our hearts.

But I still knew it would come to this.

We were never truly playing for the same side, after all.

You had let me in too far, and that was your mistake. I knew what you were going to do. It was in your eyes.

And so they knew the wards would fall today, and by your hands.

I told them.

Which brings us to now.

Your friends never had a chance – with 50 Aurors and 30 Slayers laying in wait, they were disarmed before they could utter a curse.

Voldemort himself met his demise courtesy of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Willow Rosenburg.

But I did not fight; instead, I came for you, because I knew what you would do.

You're trying to escape – things did not go according to plan, and you are trying to leave.

You smile as I confront you. You don't think I can do this – I see it in your eyes.

"Buffy," you say, "You and I, we're just pawns – this is not our fight."

Your eyes are pleading with me, even as you are going for your wand.

But you don't know I've done this before.

I look at you, one last time, hoping my eyes say what my mouth cannot – and as you start to point your wand in my direction, I drive the sword I'm holding right through your heart.

I knew this would happen – I knew even before I loved you that it would.

It's always does.