The water went on forever.

At least, it seemed that way. There’s more than this, Buffy thought. I know there is.

Far in the distance, she saw a shadow on the horizon. She started out for it, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of the water gently lapping at her ankles. Oddly, even through her closed lids, she could still see the color of the water. Not quite blue, not green. But not turquoise, either. There was no name for that color, she thought. Hasn’t been invented yet.

Time passed, although she couldn’t say how much. The shadow turned out to be the overhang of a cave. Buffy slipped under the outcropping of stone and sat down in the warm water. She lay back, and her head rested easily against the sandy bottom. Her long hair flowed and swirled with the ebb and rise of the ocean.

The tide pulled out sharply, dragging tons of sand with it. Buffy shifted as the very earth under her got sucked out to sea. I’ll have to shower later, she thought. Too much sand in my bathing suit. She sat up, needing to see those gorgeous colors again. The water…the sky…the sun…. She nearly wept at the beauty of it all. Still, the tide pulled out and out. The horizon loomed larger and larger every second.

It found me, she knew. It’s here.

The tsunami blocked out the sun, and furious golden light outlined the upper edges of the wave. Buffy stood up, and walked to the water. The giant wave was nearly upon her. She took a few running steps, inhaling great gulps of air. Seconds before the tidal wave crashed over her, she dove into it, much like a surfer ducked the raging seas.

The undertow dragged her down and sand scraped painfully against her back and buttocks. Bubbles of air escaped her mouth and she kicked hard for the surface. But she couldn’t find the way up. Which way was up? I’m gonna die, she thought calmly. She couldn’t hold her breath any longer. She needed air. Reflexively her lungs expanded, sucking in water.

Her body seized, and then she was fine. Breath after breath came without effort, without pain. I’m alive, she thought gleefully. I’m alive!

XXX

When Buffy woke up, she kept her eyes closed for awhile. Back in the day, she’d been doing advanced meditations to absorb her surroundings for training purposes. That was business. This was just fun.

Her side ached. She wasn’t sure why. And it kind of hurt at the bottom of her lungs…like it did at the end of a long hot day spent mostly in the pool. Though she didn’t get days like that anymore. Not since before…

Her fingers were wrapped around something. Couldn’t tell what yet. She listened, using all of her being, but there was only the silence. Buffy opened her eyes and stared at Spike’s sleeping face.

It was his hand that hers was folded in, their fingers joined. She wanted to touch his face and waited for the rational part of her brain to begin the usual tiresome objections. She waited in the silence for the chatter in her mind to start pushing her, telling her to leave, to go. Waited for that other voice in her head to remind her that Spike was a murderer, a serial killer in prison, what ever she wanted to call it. But the voices never came.

They never came. There was only Spike, asleep, and –Buffy peeked under the sheet—naked.

She raised her free hand and touched her fingertips to his lips. Those lips had sneered at her more than a few times, grinned wickedly more times than that. Just lately, those lips brought incredible, mind numbing pleasure with every touch. Her thumb stroked lightly over the lower lip. It was fuller than the top and slightly pouty.

Gonna get it, gonna get it… Buffy remembered his words, spoken so long ago.

Spike shifted in his sleep and Buffy knew that was because he wasn’t asleep any longer, of course. She grinned. He was playing possum. Okay. She felt up to some games. She gently tugged her captured hand out of his grasp and slid it up around his neck. The soft hair at his nape curled when it got too long, as it was now. She drew her other hand down his chest. She explored his body with her palm, enjoying the feel of the smooth skin.

Her chest tightened and just for a moment she felt short of breath. She needed to kiss him, needed to touch him…. She stopped. Wait a second.

Since when did she need Spike?

Her lips hovered over his mouth for an eternity. Her breaths fell in short puffs against his face.

“Buffy,” he said finally, and she screamed.

“Jesus Christ! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She rolled onto her back, her hands between her breasts.

Spike opened his eyes and leaned up on his elbow. “Good thing I’m dead. Would’ve died of old age waitin’ for you, Slayer.” He grinned.

“You scared me,” she informed him.

“Well, I’m glad you’re awake, anyway. You need to go.”

Buffy felt like she’d been punched. “Fine. I’ll get my stuff…I didn’t mean…it’s fine.” She threw off the sheet, happy that she still had her clothes on. Behind her, Spike sighed.

“Slayer, I swear, you misunderstand everything I say on purpose.”

Buffy’s mouth was a thin line. “What does that mean,” she asked tightly.

Shaking his head, he slid his body across the bed, so his chest pressed against her back. He picked up her left hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the knuckles tenderly, one at a time. Buffy’s eyes drifted shut even as her throat tightened.

“It means, that you need to go because the Bit is home waitin’ for you. She needs you.”

Buffy snapped, “What about what I need?” Then she stilled…realized what she’d said.

“What is it you need, love?” He asked carefully.

She wanted so much to tell him. Wanted so much to say the words and she knew he needed to hear them. But she couldn’t. Not yet. But, oh, how she wanted to. His hand was twined with hers. Her thumb stroked his fingers, rubbed his palm. She could feel her pulse pounding in every part of her body. “Spike…” his name slipped from her, unbidden.

“Buffy,” he answered. He stood up, pulling her with him, pulling her against him. He cupped her face in his hands. His mouth lowered and Buffy met him halfway. She kissed him back with all the desperation, all the neediness that he himself struggled with. Her hands roamed over every part of his body that they could reach. Twisted in his hair, touched the hollows of his cheeks, slid down his back to grab his ass and pull him tighter.

She stretched her body, standing on tiptoes and drew her hands up his arms. She could feel the thrumming need in him, could feel it in herself. His hardness pressed insistently against her, and not for the first time, did the Slayer want to forget everything else in the world. Everything but this.

She broke off the kiss, but instead of pulling back and stalking away as usual, she kept her arms around his neck and leaned her cheek to his chest. She didn’t see the look of amazement that crossed the vampire’s face.

“Buffy,” he whispered. Took a deep breath, just to smell her, relish her.

“Spike, I…I don’t want to drown, here. I can’t really breathe water, you know.”

He blinked, and decided to pretend that he knew what the hell she was talking about.

“Listen, Slayer. It’s late. You’re still hurt, and you need to get home to keep tabs on the Wicca and lil sis. Let’s go. We can solve for world peace later.”

Buffy drew back and peered up into his face. “You’re…walking me home?”

Spike sucked on his teeth and tried to rein in his annoyance. “Oh, I forgot to mention all drugged up on Demerol. Yes. I am. Walking. You. Home. Get over it. Now, move that pretty arse, Slayer. I need to get dressed.”

She just looked at him for a long moment, then her lips curved upward and she shrugged. “Okay.”

XXX

They walked along briskly in the night. Buffy tried to keep a normal distance between them, but Spike kept brushing against her. She ducked her head down so she didn’t have to notice the looks he shot her way. When she saw her house approaching, she felt both that this walk had taken forever and yet ended too quickly. Something in the air tonight, she thought. Something’s different.

Buffy stopped at her back porch, and risked a glance at the vampire. “Spike,” she began.

“Yeah, love?” Hands shoved deep in the pockets of the duster, nervously fingering his lighter.

“I came to see you tonight…”

He tilted his head. “Yeah…” he drew the words out, clearly expecting her to continue.

“These dreams I’ve been having…I think it’s my unconscious mind trying to tell me—”

A scream pierced the thick quiet. Slayer and Vampire jumped, startled.

Willow leaned heavily against the kitchen door, holding a garbage bag in her hand. “Guys…what are you doing out here? Buffy, I thought you were upstairs.”

“You know I was out patrolling. I…ended up with some broken ribs. Spike…uh…” she trailed off.

The vampire in question shook his head in disgust. “Just offered her a little first aid is all, Red. Nothin’ to get your knickers twisted about.”

“Are you okay?” Willow asked.

“Yeah,” Buffy said quickly. “I took a painkiller and then just fell asleep for awhile.”

Nice going, Spike thought. Trying to get me staked, she is. He found a cigarette and lit up.

Willow looked inscrutable. “So, you …fell asleep…at Spike’s?”

Buffy started to feel annoyed. “Yeah. So what? I was sleepy from the medicine. There was a bed…why shouldn’t I lay down? Last time I looked, I was the Slayer. I can handle Spike.”

Spike choked on his smoke. He coughed, trying desperately to keep his mouth shut. Nope, this was too good to pass up. “That’s right, Red. She can handle me…just fine.” His tone was flat but he was clearly leering at Buffy.”

Willow smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Listen, I better—” She motioned to the trash bag. She walked down the steps and headed toward the front of the house where the cans were.

Alone now, Buffy glared.

Spike rolled his eyes. “What? You thought I was just gonna let that lie there?” He smiled at her, showing his dimples. “Too bad Red came by, though. Felt like you had something to tell me.”

“I don’t feel like talking anymore.” She turned her face away and started up the steps.

“So, what? That’s it? YOU don’t feel like talking so the conversations over? It doesn’t work that way anymore, remember?”

Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head. Turning, she said, “Yeah. That’s the way it works. Don’t you get it?”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Right. And while we’re on the subject, do you really think I believe that you’re just using me to scratch an itch? I know better.”

Buffy couldn’t help herself. She threw a right cross at him. He ducked and grabbed her by the shoulders.

His eyes blazed. “Slayer, I may be a lovesick vampire, but I’m not bloody stupid. If there was nothing more than sex…” He trailed off, but gathered himself. “The way you touch me…the way you look at me when you think I’m asleep. Oh yeah, I know about that.” He leaned in so close that their noses were practically touching. “You. Care. About. Me.” Then he shoved her away. She stumbled and recovered, staring balefully the whole while.

Her breath came in short shallow gasps. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. She felt like she was drowning.

Spike took a single step towards her. “The sooner you admit it, the happier we’ll both be.”

Words rose in Buffy’s mouth, unfamiliar words that balanced precariously. Suddenly she saw the image of a tidal wave rising up, blacking out the sky. Her lips trembled and her throat tightened. “Spike, I…” Everything in her mind screamed at her to stop, to hold silent. Everything else in her screamed to speak. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, all the confusion had drifted away. She stepped forward, another foot closer to him. The world seemed to pause as if the very night depended on her words.

“I care about you,” she said clearly.

He blinked. And stared.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you. I just…never thought you really would, is all.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed. “Okay, huh? Now, I’m really confused.” She heard a whoosh! And then she was in his arms, staring up into his eyes.

Spike touched her hair, starting at the crown and running his fingers through until he reached her back. “Buffy,” he said softly.

Hesitantly, she touched his mouth with her fingertips, caressed his lower lip with her thumb. Spike was many things. For the longest time he had only been ‘that vampire’. Then, he was ‘just Spike.’ Now…now, he was hers. He was the man that loved her.

Her palm cupped the side of his face. He pressed his cheek into her hand almost immediately, and smiled, showing his dimples. Buffy felt like she was losing her breath again. But this time it didn’t seem so scary. If the undertow dragged her down, she could breathe the water.

Shifting Tide