Oh, and I do have the Rook chapter done. Fever is mostly gone and I'm feeling a little better. It will be up later tonight. I got a little distracted by doing this... :)
From just after the first time Buffy and Spike make love
This was her favorite time of night. The moon, barely suspended over the edge of the horizon, glittered in a majestic chill as it invited itself into the room, creeping along the floor, climbing atop the bed to stroke her cheek in lustrous offering. This was the hour during which everyone, including the monsters, slept, and Buffy could allow herself to finally relax, even for that split second before the inevitable always occurred.
Her body was a mass of conflicting sentiments, at once both more aching and sore than her most rabid workout, while at the same time lending her an excruciating indolence that left her in a dreamy haze. If someone had told her just a week ago that such succor was possible, the Slayer would’ve laughed in their face, but now, with the reason for each mark, each bruise, each wondrous brand lying nestled behind her, his muscled arm thrown protectively around her waist, his still semi-hard cock cradled between her buttocks, she could no longer deny the truth he had shown her.
My favorite Spike tells Buffy he loves her scene from my stories...
She licked her lips. Hope you’re happy, she told the little voice. Because here I go… “I lied. About not thinking about it. Because that’s all I seem to be able to do here, and when you look at me like that, it just makes it all that much harder. There was a point last night, when I was watching you while you were asleep, that I thought, maybe it doesn’t have to be like every other time. Maybe he won’t go. Maybe he’ll actually stick around. Maybe, maybe, maybe. And then you woke up, and you were so far away, and it all went to hell. Because that’s what I want. I want you to not go.”
“Why do you think I would?” His grip loosened, sliding up to her shoulders, brushing the hair away from her neck. “What makes you think I’m going anywhere?”
“Because they all do.” The prick of tears behind her eyes forced Buffy to steady her voice. “I care about someone, and they leave me. They say they love me, and they make these promises, and then they…Not that I’m saying I think you…love me…but…I don’t know…” Her throat choked, and she ducked her head so that the vampire couldn’t see the tears escape down her cheeks.
Spike leaned forward, resting his forehead on the top of her hair, letting her cry. Everyone I care about, she’d said. That meant…hope. “If I did…love you…would that make a difference?”
The young woman froze. He hadn’t…didn’t…wasn’t possible… “What?” she breathed.
“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Buffy, not for as long as you let me stay.” He swallowed. “Because not everyone who loves you, leaves.”
Because I adore Gino, I don't care if he is my own character. This is from right after Spike has beat up Mack...
He cleared his throat. “You know Mack’s in the hospital.” The redhead nodded. “You gotta know…I think Spike did right. And if it’d been me, and someone tried to pay me off, I’d’ve done the exact same thing.” He held up his hand to hold off her speaking. “I know you think I’m old-fashioned that way, but what Mack did…it’s not right. He may be the boss, but he’s still a wrong number, and nothing you’re going to say to me is going to convince me Spike did something wrong.”
There was a long pause while Willow waited to see if he was going to add anything further. It was obvious that he’d been practicing his words, and she could see how hard this was for him. The last thing she wanted to do was make it worse. “You know, if I hadn’t been there to stop him, he would’ve killed Mack,” she said softly. “You think that’s right?”
“I…think…Spike would do anything for Buffy. They just got that kind of love, you know? And I could see how he could get pushed far enough to do…that.” Gino stopped, finally looking up at the young woman opposite him. “Spike and I got lots in common. And just because we both work with our fists and not our heads, that don’t mean we’re not men of honor. And I gotta make sure you see that, ‘cause I don’t want you thinking I’m just some dumb mug who doesn’t know right from wrong.”
And because I still think Mack is so delectably creepy, one of my favorite moments with him, as Spike has approached him outside the burning building at the end of the story...
"How does it feel having to get saved by Buffy?" Mack queried, deliberately keeping his voice light. "She's the only reason you're not a walking Picasso, you know."
"Feels like she loves me, but you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?" Spike's head tilted in amusement, watching the other man squirm in discomfort. "Makes your gut crawl, doesn't it? Like thousands of tiny worms gnawin' at your entrails, knowin' pretty soon, they'll make their way to that black lump you call a heart, only to chew it up and spit it out."
Mack laughed, a short, sharp bark that cut through the smoky air like glass. "That's very poetic, Spike," he commented. "Is that the kind of bed talk you share with Buffy? Drown her in your awful poetry until she falls asleep?" He saw the tiny flinch in the vampire's jaw, and his smile widened. "I believe I've struck a nerve," he said gleefully. "Please tell me it's the same one I sliced open on your face. I love opening up old wounds."