Title: A Little Death

Author: Jeanny

Distribution: I don't mind, just credit me and let me know where it's going.

Rating: R, and I mean it!

Spoilers: Season 6 Through All The Way

Feedback: Please. jeannygrrl@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: The Buffyverse isn't mine and I don't own the characters. Just like using them to tell my little story...and the lyrics belong to Elvis Costello as noted.

Summary: Buffy gives in and asks for what she wants.

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So he bit his tongue
And tried hard to capture his breath
When she said I waited all my life
For just a little death
--Elvis Costello, "Kid About It"

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"It's a good day." The voice behind him made him turn, even though he'd known she was coming. He could feel her moving through the world, ripping through his soul. He tossed aside his cigarette, feigning nonchalance as always.

"Sorry, pet?" he said as if he hadn't heard. She didn't look directly at him, but past him, to that haunted place her eyes always seemed to stray to these days.

"For you, I mean. Today, it's a good day. I want it," she said softly. He looked in her eyes, confusion melting into pained understanding.

"You want...no." He tried to back away, but she grabbed hold of his jacket, desperate and somehow still devoid of feeling.

"It's what you've been waiting for," she coaxed. He shook his head.

"No."

"Why?"

"You know I can't."

"I know it would hurt you. But you'd recover, and it would be over. It wouldn't hurt that much," she said, her voice still as emotionless as if they had been discussing the weather. Not what they were actually discussing.

"You have no idea how much it would hurt," Spike rasped bitterly. Buffy reached out and stroked his cheek. It might have been a soothing gesture if there had been any life in her eyes.

"It doesn't matter. It would be worth it. For both of us. We'd be free." At that Spike tore out of her grasp, his eyes almost wild.

"No, we'd be dead," he said through clenched teeth.

"We already are."

"You're alive, Buffy. You're just not letting yourself live."

"I'm not alive, don't you get it?" Buffy said, her voice rising slightly in her confusion. "I'm trying to live. Sometimes I even want to. But I don't feel anything. How can I be alive and not feel anything? My heart..." She suddenly grabbed his hand, holding it to her chest. "Is it beating? Are you sure?" Spike swallowed hard, searching her eyes for something, anything. Finding nothing. He was dead, and she was colder.

"It's beating just fine, pet," he said, moving his hand to the left of center. Buffy frowned.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a trembling voice. He cupped her left breast and ran his thumb lightly over her nipple. Buffy gasped.

"Ah. Felt that?" he asked in mock innocence. He used his other hand to pull her closer, still looking into her eyes. She looked lost, confused, vulnerable, empty...and behind all of it, buried deep down, he saw it. The spark. The fire. Almost extinguished, but not quite. He smiled. "Still want me to kill you, pet?" he asked softly, just before their lips met. He had almost forgotten what she tasted like, bittersweet and slightly salty, utterly intoxicating.

"Yes," she moaned as he broke off the kiss. He grinned before sweeping her up into his arms.

"Alright then, luv. Maybe just a little death."

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