Disclaimer:  I own nothing.  Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, etc.

Author's Note:  Since I just reposted The Real Reason with a new rating (R instead of NC-17) and title (My Love) I decide to repost the sequel as well.  No changes have been made to this fic.

Candy Sweet Kisses


Anessa Ramsey

         It's three o'clock in the morning and I can't sleep.  So I'm doing what I usually do.  I'm sitting by the window in my room watching the night sky.  I don't have to look down to know he's there again.  For the fifth night in a row he's sitting under the tree in our front yard.  I don't understand what he sees in my sister.  How can he love someone who's supposed to be his mortal enemy?  It isn't like Buffy is all that great, even though she thinks being the slayer makes her so.  She's a royal bitch, stuck up and self-absorbed.  If she had any sense in her brain she'd realize that if vampires can get angry and hate then they most certainly can experience passion and love.

         Sometimes it really sucks to be me.  I know now why Anya complains so much.  Like her, I'm thousands of years old and I'm stuck in the body of a teenager.  I remember sometimes what it was like in my previous incarnations.  I'm usually older and know about the things that life teaches you.  I've experienced love and passion.  I know duty and sacrifice.  I even know heartache and sadness.  But they can't know that.  If I tried to say anything they'd think I was crazy.  After all, how many people can recall an entire life spent living in an Egyptian harem or as a Victorian lady. 

         I understand that better than anyone about him.  He was a Victorian gentleman, even if he doesn't look or act it anymore.  He was raised in that era and I know what it's like.  I know about Cecily and how her rejection hurt him so much.  I know what it's like to have to marry one man when you love another. 

         Sometimes I think I'll go crazy with the memories.  If it weren't for Spike I don't know what I'd do.  He's the only one who knows that I remember.  He's the only one who understands what it's like to live in so many different eras and be so many different people.  Buffy looks at him and just sees another vampire.  I look at him and see all the different personalities he has been.  I see William, the bloody awful poet.  I see William, childe of Angelus, slayer of slayers, and Spike, the master vampire, lover of Drusilla.  His latest incarnation though is based on his instinct for survival.  He is Spike, traitor to his kind because of a little piece of metal in his head.  I know that if it weren't for the chip he'd still be an enemy.  But self-preservation had him turning to Buffy for help.  Everything in the world is about survival…for both of us.

         He doesn't know that I'm in love with him.  He doesn't know that he is my love in all of my past lives.  I always leave that part of my memories out of our conversations.  He wouldn't look at a fourteen year old girl that way.  Even he isn't that lecherous.  But I'm not fourteen.  Not in my heart.  And it pains me to see him in love with someone who will never love him in return.  Even if she did, she would never be able to love him the way I do.  Completely and forever.  Some bonds surpass death and carry over into the next life.  What I wouldn't give for him to feel the same way about me that I do about him. 

         Sometimes I wish he'd just take me away.  I want to leave this place and not have to deal with my perfect older sister who constantly saves the world or my mother who always treats me as if I'm the most fragile of items.  They don't really know how strong I am.  I have to be to deal with the memories.

         I can't help glancing down at him, expecting to see him looking at Buffy's room.  Instead I gaze into crystalline blue eyes that are locked on me.  He's watching me!  I feel my heartbeat speed up when he doesn't look away.  Why is he watching me?

         He takes a deep puff from the cigarette that dangles loosely between his fingers.  God he's so sexy.  I grin slightly when I think about what he would look like laying naked on my bed so that I could explore his magnificent body.  I feel the blush staining my cheeks and my face feels like it's on fire.  I see him smirk as if he's reading the impure thoughts that are floating through my head.

         He stands suddenly, stubbing out the cigarette on the ground and before I can even think about moving he's climbing the trellis outside my window.  My hands betray me and open the window, letting the cool night breeze waft into the room. 

         He's in front of me, his white blond hair gleaming in the moonlight.  I'm trembling so hard and having difficulty breathing.  "Spike," I manage to croak out around the lump in my throat.

         He holds onto the trellis and whispers, "Invite me in, Nibblet," in that sexy voice of his.  Shivers run down my spine.  His accent always makes me shiver.

         I know that Buffy had Willow do the un-invite spell to keep him out, but I don't care.  "Come in Spike."

         Gracefully he pulls himself through the window and advances on me like a predator as I back away.  "Are you afraid of me, lil' bit?"

         "No," I whisper, even as I move further away.  My retreat is hindered when the back of my legs hit the bed.

         He smirks again.  "Does big sis have any idea that you've been watching me?"

         I shake my head.  He's actually starting to worry me.  Why isn't he tormenting Buffy?  Why is he here in my room at three o'clock in the morning?  Why is he looking at me like he wants to devour me?  "What do you want, Spike?"

         His smile is slow and somewhat sad.  "That's such a complicated question.  There are so many things that I want.  Most of them I can't have.  There is one thing in particular that I know I will have one day.  For now though I have to be patient and wait."  He reaches out and runs a cool finger over my cheek.  There's this look in his eyes that lets me know it isn't my sister

         "But…Buffy?" I murmur softly, fearing that the hope building in my chest will be dashed.

         "Don't love her.  Don't even really like her.  Never did."

         My eyes widen as he leans forward and brushes his lips softly over mine.  This was how it always felt in my dreams.  Warmth is radiating through my body, starting with my lips, touching all the places inside me that I hide from the world.  It's sweet and gentle, yet I can feel the passion that he's trying so hard to restrain.

         "You see.  Why would I want her when I can have you?"

         I close my eyes briefly.  This is what I've dreamed of for so long.  I want him.  "Spike…" I whimper, leaning my head toward his for another slow kiss.  When it ends I open my eyes and look into the crystal blue depths of his.  I feel like I'm drowning in these deep cerulean pools that are bluer than any eyes should be.

         "Not tonight, bit.  Not for many nights.  Your body is still too young, even if your spirit is not.  Be patient luv.  You will be mine one day.  You've always been mine.  You're not the only one with memories."  He gives me another quick kiss then he's out the window and down the trellis. 

         Breathing heavily, absorbing the enormity of his words, I scamper over to the window just in time to see him wave slightly before heading down the street toward his crypt.  I close the window and walk back to bed, crawling under the covers, one thought running through my mind, 'He remembers'. 

         My body is tingling all over and I wish he were still here so that I could experience more of his candy sweet kisses.  I sigh, praying for patience.  How on earth am I going to be able to wait to belong to him?