The End: The Best Friend

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Summary: Buffy weeps, Angel broods, the stars of the series go at it in the shower.

AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lara@sunflower.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRINGS: Willow/Spike
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the characters on the show. Joss Whedon and the WB Network own them (for now). No copyright infringement intended, so please don't sue.
DEDICATION: To Peygan as always--really loved this week's Angel! And to Indie for loving my B/A(us) and to Amy for calling me a sadist *grin* and to Starcrossed for making me think about what Angel's going through.
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As the sun began to sink behind the tall buildings downtown, Buffy pushed herself away from the wall she'd been leaning against crying, and started to walk. She felt ancient, her body aching, her nerves shot, her mind a jumbled mass of confused emotions.

Tears continued to slide down her chapped cheeks, burning her sore eyes and raw, bitten lips. Her best friend, her...Willow...she was gone.

Gone.

Buffy moaned, a long, painful sound, and her tears momentarily blinded her.

She had failed.

Every human death she had been unable to prevent since being called hurt her, but this...this was too much. This was too real.

When Buffy had made a conscious decision to allow Angel to live, something had died in her, but something new had been born. A darkness, a strength of will and determination, and a view of the world that not everyone could be saved. Sacrificing the world for one person didn't work. She began to focus on the whole and not the individual.

It made her a more successful Slayer in every way except quotas.

But to sacrifice someone so dear to her...

She would never be prepared for that.

So, like Willow herself, Buffy had practiced a narrow form of denial and lived day to day. She trained, she slew, she went to school, she hung out with her friends, she loved Angel...

Yet buried deep inside herself she knew it wasn't forever. Someday something would happen to burn away the mists of denial.

Someday was today.

And the something was the turning of Willow.

Buffy's world would never be the same.

*****

Sitting in the dark of his bedroom, Angel brooded and chain- smoked.

It gave him something to do with his hands so they didn't dig into his chest and rip out his shriveled heart.

For nearly a year he'd successfully avoided accepting that he loved Buffy. He lusted after her, he liked her spunkiness, he wanted to fuck her till she screamed herself hoarse, but love wasn't in the cards. Love was for the weak.

You couldn't rule a Hellmouth and love someone.

He *knew* this.

So...

So, why had he opened himself to love?

To love opened oneself to pain and misery.

And fear.

The fear of losing Buffy had been a near constant for him, except for those few weeks the previous Spring when she'd been so broken and submissive to him that he knew she was his forever.

Until Spike had pointed out that she was slowly dying.

That's when the fear truly begun to manifest, when the knowledge of the brevity of her life began to leak into his mind. For months he denied it, then he railed against it, then he fought it, and finally, to save her from himself, he admitted he loved her.

But, that only made the fear become stronger, because now he knew that if he lost her...

If she left him...

If she died...

Two hundred and fifty years of existence before he knew her and only two since, and he knew that he couldn't live without her. Life would be pointless.

His favorite childe had taught him that.

A haunted smile crossed his face and he lit another cigarette.

Spike would die for Willow, and, more importantly, he wouldn't want to survive without her. Without her human and sweet and sassy and sexy.

Once turned, whether she retained her love for him or not, she wouldn't be the same.

Angel understood that. He couldn't bear the thought of Buffy being turned, either. Although vampire childer retained much of the personality of the humans they had been, the changes were sometimes hard to accept by those that had known them previously.

That was the main reason it was traditional to kill one's family and close friends, in order to divest oneself of human ties.

It was why humans and vampires weren't supposed to mix. They weren't supposed to become friends and they certainly weren't supposed to become lovers.

What the fuck was wrong with the childer of Aurelius?

Humans were food, they were fucking animals!

Yet the thought of feeding from Buffy made Angel's stomach turn.

And the thought of losing her...that was going to kill him.

He was fucked. Well and truly fucked.

*****

Willow awoke to the uncomfortable feeling of something digging into her hip. Blinking open her eyes she saw that it was Spike's knee. She shifted away from it and let her eyes drift around the darkened room. It appeared to be a cheap motel room and reminded her of the ones they visited early in their relationship.

Even down to the same sad clown picture hanging on the wall.

Yawning, Willow pushed herself up and off the bed. After using the bathroom, she walked over to the window and carefully peeked outside. The sun was still up, shining harshly down on the battered Cadillac parked at the curb, but it looked to be afternoon. Beyond the small parking lot was blue sky and dusty ground with not much green growing in it.

It looked like they were in the desert.

Willow yawned again and stretched her cramped muscles. The tension had really done a number on her. She ached all over as if she'd been beaten, and she felt incredibly grungy. Pulling her wrinkled dress over her head, she walked back into the bathroom to take a shower.

The water came at an unsteady drip, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and Willow stepped into the cracked tub and reached for the soap chips left by previous visitors. Lathering up her hands, she began to wash, ridding her body of every remnant of Angel and trying not to think about him.

As she rinsed soap from her hair, the shower curtain was drawn back, letting in a breeze of semi-cool air, and she glanced up to see Spike watching her from beneath hooded eyes. He was nude, his cock resting heavily against one thigh. Under her gaze, it began to swell, and he stepped into the tub.

Willow moaned and backed up against the wall. The tiles were cold and she squeaked, but kept herself pressed there as her heartbeat increased and her breathing grew heavy with budding desire.

Reaching out a finger, Spike wiped away a soap bubble from one of her nipples which immediately hardened. He flicked the sensitive nubbin, and she whimpered, reaching out and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Make me forget his touch," she whispered before pressing her lips to his.

Opening beneath her mouth, Spike kissed her back hungrily, his hands gripping her hips and pressing her against his erection. She squirmed, sending pulses of pleasure through both of them, and slipped her fingers into his soft hair, massaging his scalp as their tongues twisted together.

As she gasped his name, he trailed his lips down her jawline to her collarbone, and noticed for the first time that the leather collar was missing.

"Willow?"

She looked up at him with sorrow-filled eyes and murmured, "It feels weird without it."

One of Spike's thumbs rubbed gently against an old scar, then he tenderly kissed her cheek. "We'll get you another one, luv, if you want."

Nodding, she shyly lifted her left hand. "And my ring."

"That as well. They're only symbols. What matters is that we're together and that we love each other."

"Always," she choked out, tightening her arms around him and pulling his mouth back to hers.

Catching one of her hips in his hand, Spike lifted her effortlessly and slipped her gently onto his cock. As Willow whimpered and clung to him, he pressed her against the wall and began to make love to her slowly, undulating their bodies together. Breaking their kiss, he buried his mouth in her shoulder, gasping softly against her wet skin as the shower continued to trickle over them.

Willow arched her back and her head, letting him guide their pace as the pleasure built slowly between them. She felt Spike's teeth scrape along her shoulder, and a bolt of desire went through her, making her buck against him, her leg wrapping around his waist. Her hands kneaded his shoulders as his did the same to her hips, and they both gasped simultaneously as their passion mounted.

Spike began to thrust faster, deeper, pushing her harder against the wall as his control slipped. Willow keened softly as each thrust drove the base of his cock against her sensitive clit, making it swell and pulse with need. Flinging his head back, Spike growled lustily as his orgasm approached on a rush. He slammed into her harder and she responded with a wild shudder and the clenching of her inner muscles around his cock.

"Now," Willow begged. "Please...oh god, please..."

Capturing her lips in a final hard kiss, Spike slipped one hand between them and pinched her clit. That was all she needed to spiral over the edge of pleasure into an intense orgasm. As Willow trembled and whimpered in his arms, Spike let his own pleasure sweep over him and he sank nearly insensate against her, panting into her neck.

As a cramp formed in her leg, Willow lowered it to the tub bottom and shook it, forcing Spike's softening cock to slide from her. Replete and momentarily happy, Willow cradled his head to her shoulder and stroked his trembling back.

"I can't lose you, Willow," Spike muttered hoarsely, tightening his arms around her waist again.

"You won't," she promised, but even to her that promise rang hollow, and she closed her eyes, trying to revel in the moment and forget there was a future.

End Chapter 9