Part Five

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The soft rise and fall of his chest is what makes Buffy wake up smiling some twenty minutes later. Spike’s tendency to breathe, even in sleep she now knows, has always been one of the traits that both infuriated her and amused her. It’s just so...normal.

Well, to be fair, all of her concepts of ‘normal’ are carefully being deconstructed in this new life she’s returned to. She is fairly certain that she doesn’t even live in the same state as normal. And glancing up at the impossibly thick eyelashes fluttering against the marble skin of her would be lover, she has to admit that ‘normal’ may very well be overrated.

Spike knows from the change in her breathing and in her heart rate, that she is awake. He knows that she is watching him. He just pretends to be asleep because he doesn’t want this moment to end.

He awoke a few minutes before her and had all but pinched himself to reassure that this isn’t a dream. He’d watched her for a while, memorizing every minute detail of this night; etching the feeling of her, the scent...the taste, into his mind and heart to hold on to forever. Because this can’t last. This...this taste of heaven can only be just that: a taste. Spike doesn’t even dare to dream that his golden goddess would ever...could ever...

He’s just grateful that she cares even a little. And she does. He can see it in her eyes and that knowledge alone affords him more happiness that he ever thought he’d be granted. So he’d watched her and when he’d felt her stir, he’d closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep; to prolong this moment for as long as possible. It’s when she stretches her neck and places a light kiss on the side of his mouth that his eyes pop open.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Her voice is soft and intimate. Spike begins to shiver anew.

“Nah, pet. I was just...” He sighs.

“Just what?” She idly begins tracing patterns across his bare chest.

“Nothin” He sighs again and she laughs, moving up on her side and propping herself up on her elbow.

“Ok, that’s two sighs and a nothing.” She flashes him a smile. “Spill.” He narrows his eyes at her for a moment, taken off-guard by her jovial demeanor.

“I...well...I was just...basking is all.” He shrugs.

“Basking?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Uh...yeah, pet. I...uh...this is...well...” Buffy breaks out into a huge smile while he fumbles for words.

“Nice?” She prompts.

“A right bit better than nice, Buffy.” He returns her smile and pulls her onto him. She rests her head over his heart and sighs contentedly. “This is...right.” He mumbles the last word.

“It’s what?” She lifts her head to look at him.

“Nothing.” He tightens his hold on her a bit. “S’ nice.” Buffy resumes her position on his chest.

“Yeah, it is.” She smiles into his chest. “Earlier was...um...nice...too.” He can feel the heat of her blush against his cool flesh. He smiles as he runs his hands across her skin, still surprised at the softness; the warmth.

“Yeah.” He breathes. Just one tiny memory of what had transpired between them is enough to stir his arousal.

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“Where?” He kisses the dimple of her left collarbone, lightly flicking his tongue over the hard, smooth ridge.

“Mmmm...there. Right...there.” He pulls her upright, and in one swift but gentle move, lifts the camisole off her body. He lowers her back to the bed, his lips resuming their journey across her skin.

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