Author: Hilary and Isabelle

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Everything I have borrowed from Joss and ME, only used for entertainment. Title comes from song 'Break Me' by Jewel the lyrics used through out the fiction are the same.

Summary: Set post 'Beneath You', Season 7. Three years after the church scene and how Buffy/Spike remember what has happened and where they will go from now. Spike/Buffy pairing (like there could be any other)

Dedications: Hilary - To Isabelle for writing this with me. Isabelle - To Hilary, my first joined fiction, Heller for the beta and SMG/JM because without them nothing will be.

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(Part 1)

Propped up on one arm Buffy peered down at her lover as he peacefully slept. It was such a still night, more so given that the house was empty apart from them. Dawn was in her first year of college and Buffy found herself wondering how her sister was doing. True she called once a week to assure her sister that everything was fine, but Buffy still worried. She'd never been away from Dawn for this long before and although she knew it was time to let go she still found it hard.

Willow had moved away a year ago, no longer being able to stand being in the town where Tara had died. She too called occasionally, but the calls were becoming fewer and further between. Buffy couldn't blame her of course, Willow needed her own life but she still couldn't get used to how quiet the house was without them.

Tearing her eyes away from the sleeping man for a moment Buffy looked out of the window, enjoying the cool breeze that was drifting in and cooling her naked body. She loved the night, no matter what anyone else said to her Spike had been right about one thing. She belonged in the dark.

With him.

Despite was a lot of people said; the sky wasn't black at night. Instead it was a very deep blue, like the ocean during a storm. Like his eyes.

She looked back down at him again, enjoying the way the moonlight caught his freshly bleached hair. Almost making it shine like a halo around his head. This was no angel lying her beside her though. He was just Spike. Her Spike.

Her Spike. She never would have imagined she'd ever find herself saying those words, especially after everything that had happened.

Salt can be most tasty when it came from his skin. His skin was waves on the sea. She leaned down and kissed his upper shoulder, making him murmur in his sleep and scoop closer to her. She smiled slightly and ran her fingers down the scar on his chin.

He got that scar on a cross. A cross he touched out of pain and loneliness. She had pulled him from that cross...right before she ran away, puked in the nearby dumpster, and cried herself to sleep.

She shivered as she remembered that night. She hated the memory of that night. She had never seen him so broken, alone and real.

In that moment he was broken, her pale broken demon who only wanted her love. She kissed the scar.

One blue eye opened to look at her, blinking with surprise at the tears in her cheeks.

"What's wrong, luv?" he whispered. She shook her head, remembering how she used to hate it when he called her 'luv'.

But 'luv' was now her fortitude, her shelter, her pet name.

Even throughout the years she had never found a nickname for him like all the ones he found for her.

Everything from 'pet', 'goldy', 'buffy', 'petal', 'm'slayer', or her newest favourite 'honey'. Now to every other woman it would be natural that your boyfriend would call you 'honey' but he had to told her the meaning. He said she tasted like honey, that her hair was like honey, her skin was honey--she was his honey. He wanted 'honey' for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She scoffed at this and explained that she was not something to be eaten.

But he still said it and she secretly loved it--he especially loved to say it in front of Xander. Her best friend totally didn't get it but Spike would lap it up, chuckling at his no-knowledge.

"Nothing," she told him and buried her small nose in his neck. He smelled like the sea. He had taken her to the beach this past weekend and no matter how hard she scrubbed his body the smell of the waves and the sand was still on his skin.

"Liar," he informed him and kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer.

She smiled against his neck. "I'm exhausted."

"Hello I'm Buffy conversation changer by profession." he murmured.

She pinched his side, making him jerk.

"Leave me alone," she snapped, softly, kidding with him.

"Fine," he was silent.

Silence.

"I love you," she said softly.

Silence.

"You heard me?" she asked.

But he was snoring by now.

She bit her lip, kissed his ear and lay back down on his back.

"I know," he said after a while.

Good, then. She told herself. She then wondered when they had begun to grow apart.

* * *

"You want to do one more round of the cemetery?" She asked the next night, tucking her stake back into her pocket. Things had been unusually quiet, including Spike which bothered her more than anything. She'd never known him be quiet, when things were bothering him he was always the first to make it known. Even when he'd first come back to Sunnydale after getting his soul, his sanity in shreds, even then she hadn't been able to keep him quiet. The fact that he wasn't speaking now meant that something was seriously wrong.

"Spike?" She tried again. "You want to patrol some more?"

He began to shake his head when something caught his attention and he cocked his head to the side, trying to detect what Buffy could neither see nor hear.

"Demon." He whispered softly, and took off at full pelt across the cemetery. Buffy was so taken by surprise that she just stood there for a moment, staring at the space Spike has just been occupying.

"Spike, wait." She finally called when she came to her senses, taking off in the direction he'd headed.

By the time she arrived the fight was already in full swing, with Spike not doing as well as she'd hoped. The demon he was fighting was a good foot taller than him, with spines all over his body.

"Spike." Buffy called, pulling her stake out of her pocket, ready to jump in and help.

"Stay out of this, Slayer." Spike growled in a voice she hadn't heard him use for years. "I can handle this one myself."

Numb, Buffy just stared at him; barely able to believe that she'd heard those words come out of his mouth. She couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to her like that, certainly not since he got his soul and in all honesty a long time before that too.

"Spike?" She whispered softly, forcing the tears she could feel in her eyes not to fall.

He glanced at her for a moment and that was his biggest mistake. The demon caught him by the throat, lifting him fully off the ground so that his legs dangled uselessly beneath him. As hard as he thrashed and kicked Spike couldn't get free and the demon used his other hand to drive a fist full of spines into Spike's stomach.

Buffy screamed at the same time Spike let out a howl of pain. Before either of them could react the demon threw Spike to the ground like a child grown bored of its toy.

Buffy's eyes moved from Spike's crumpled form on the ground to the demon standing triumphantly over him and she saw red. Before it could react she launched herself at the monster, hitting it with everything she had. With every punch that she threw and every kick that she gave she saw Spike's injured body on the ground and his cold words ringing in her ears.

Soon the demon lay dead, its neck broken and its body a mass of bleeding lacerations. Buffy didn't give the creature a second glance as she moved over to her lover, taking assessment of his injuries before gathering him in her arms and carrying him home.

She didn't notice a second creature lurking in the shadows, watching her with appreciation as she vanished out of sight.

* * *

"Almost there...almost there...." she murmured from under her breath as her boyfriend dragged almost limply next to her.

"C'mon, baby--we're almost there...." she could see the house from where they were. Spike whimpered and tried to curl himself up again but she forced him to walk.

"I can't feel my legs...slayer..." he whispered to her. With the strength she had left in her she hefted him up on her shoulders and almost ran all the way home.

She banged the door in, quickly depositing him on the couch, running to get their extra-large first aid kit, because in their line of work you could never have enough medical supplies.

He was writhing on the sofa, coughing up blood.

"Shhh..." she soothed him, she's seen him take worse...much worse.

She could still smell the acid in the air when she had pulled him from the cross all those years ago. She could see the bones from his ribs --that's how deep the burns had gone.

"Lovely," she told herself as she began to rip his shirt off. "After all these years of doing the whole partnership thing you decided to go all Rambo on me," she made her point clear as she poured the alcohol on him. He hissed and tried to push her hands away.

"I'm fine," he said, though it made blood trickle on the side of his mouth.

"Right Mr. I can't feel my legs," she countered and pinned his hand while she poured the rest of the bottle making the blood run pink as it was disinfected.

He gasped as she gingerly extracted the spine that was left in his stomach.

You'd think a girl would hate doing this, but she was so used to it they had begun to keep a plastic over the couch, she was tired of scrubbing her blood and his from it. It was beginning to form a pattern.

He finally settled back, allowing her to finish the work, wrapping him with thick bandages. He grunted softly when she was done.

She smiled at him. "That wasn't that bad, was it, you big baby?"

He rolled his eyes at her and turned his head to the side.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered as she cleaned his face from blood and...tears?

"Why don't you try having alcohol poured on your organs?" he snapped and tried to stand up. She pushed him back down and sat next to him, softly patting his bandages.

"I didn't mean that....you ran in there..." she gulped. The air was suddenly thick and scarce. "I thought you were a goner."

He sighed and looked back up at her. Her eyes were all watery and honest and he couldn't help himself to wonder when that had mattered a lot.

He had started being cold with her since...the accident. Since she lost their child. It hadn't been her fault and the child was not even supposed to be born but it had been. At least for a few weeks until one day it's heart just stopped beating. The doctor had confirmed that it had died.

That had been their chance to have a child. Neither knew how it happened only that is had been some sort of miracle. But their miracles didn't last long.

He couldn't look at her for the longest time.

He just had to leave...just go away.

But the fifteen days he had spent away had made him realize that he needed her more than what he needed to give her a normal life.

She had told him she loved him the day he came back. She was still weak and pale and hardly left their bed, Willow had stayed most of the time with her.

His soul had tormented him more than ever for what he did to her. Left her alone when she needed him. Things had been ok until he had a dream. She had died in the dream.

He had then realized that one day he would have to live without her. All alone. No soft touches and sweet caresses. Only him, with a cold memory of her.

He had to get out before he would get hurt again...he was still fragile, he would still have nightmares only to wake up with her soothing him and telling him she loved him.

He was falling apart and he couldn't tell her. He was loosing her.

"I'm sorry, pet...didn't mean to scare you...." he said softly, taking her small hand and kissing the palm of it.

She sighed and laid next to him on the couch. "I love you, you know that, right?"

That had been too much...he couldn't breathe--though he didn't need to.

She felt his body go rigid. "Spike.... tell me you love me." She needed to hear this...he used to say it various times in the day...she had forgotten the last time she heard him say it.

He couldn't say it.

Buffy gasped and touched her lips lightly with her fingers as she realised she wasn't going to hear the words that she so desperately needed to. This couldn't be happening. Spike loved her, she was sure of it. Why wouldn't he just say the words and make it all better. She tried to recall the last time Spike had told her he loved her and with a pang she realised that she couldn't remember.

Things had never really been right between them since they'd lost their baby. She knew that he'd blamed her for what had happened and she'd blamed herself too. Everything that she loved was taken from her. Her dad, Angel, Riley, her Mom, Dawn, Willow and finally her baby. The only constant in her life was Spike. He'd stayed when no one else had. She needed him. She loved him.

But just looking at him told her that things were about to change. He was rigid beside her, like a plank of wood, his face blank and unfeeling. She'd never seen him look like this before. It scared her.

"Spike?" She asked hesitantly. "Talk to me."

He carefully sat up and moved away from her. He could do this. He had to.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. It's not you, it's me."

The use of her proper name broke the dam and tears began to fall down her cheeks. This couldn't be happening. Spike was the most dependable person in her life. He was her rock in the raging ocean of life, strong supportive and always there for her, always loving her. This was stupid Spike who would never leave her alone, stupid Spike that would keep coming back....stupid Spike that made her fall in love with him. With his heroics, his persistence and his acceptance. He couldn't be doing this to her.

"Don't say that." She hissed, allowing her anger to override the deep pain in her heart. It would make it more bearable if she could just make herself angry with him. She'd never had problems in the past but things were different now. The pain was so much she could hardly bear it.

Spike rose on shaky legs and moved to the centre of the room. He couldn't stand to be close to her, if he did he knew he'd never be able to leave.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, turning his back to her so she wouldn't be able to see his own tears.

"Bullshit!" Buffy screamed, jumping to her feet and reaching over to grab his shoulders. As she spun him back to face her she was too angry to see how the movement had affected his injuries. Spike winced in pain and forced his eyes to meet hers.

"I don't believe this." Buffy cried, not even bothering to try to hide her tears anymore. "You were supposed to different Spike. Not like all the others who just ran off and left me."

"I'm sorry." He repeated in that same soft voice, wishing he could just run now and not look back.

"Stop fucking SAYING that!" Buffy yelled, tears of anger now replacing the ones of sadness. "If you're so sorry then tell me you love me. Tell me you want to be with me and that you'll always be here."

Spike shook his head gently, words having failed him now.

It was all too much for her. Buffy's legs gave way and she collapsed on the couch, her body wracked with sobs that were painful just to look at.

Spike took one last look at the woman who meant more to him than anything. He had to do this though, for both of their sakes.

Without another word he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Life was such a complicated bitch sometimes, one moment you have the whole world in your hands and the next you're struggling just to be let on board. Does every queen lose her throne; does every king leave his rose?

She supposed she was a prickly flower, hard to deal with, hard to control, hard to tame.

Ok, dammit--she was a shrew, but he liked the shrew....at lease he used to.

The one hour bath didn't help and when she walked out she expected to him in their bed, silently and without words apologizing about the fight--later on after they had made love he would whisper that he still loved her...no matter what.

But he was not there when she got out, he was not there when she didn't fall asleep and he was not there at 4AM when she couldn't take it anymore and went in search of him.

She knew that the loss of the baby had hit him hard. Especially him. He never dreamed of having an offspring, a little boy or girl who would look just like them--it was his opportunity to show her he was worth it, though she hadn't needed it for a long time.

The knock in the door startled her from her memories of so long ago.

"Knew you couldn't stay away," she told the door, with a small smile on her face.

She almost stumbled in her rush to make it to the panelled piece of wood which she just knew had her lover on the other side. It just had to be him. She threw the door open, expecting to be caught up in his arms at any moment and showered with kisses and apologies. If it was one thing Spike knew it was how to make it better after they'd had a fight.

She closed her eyes in anticipation, opening them a few moments later when she felt nothing. The porch was deserted.

"Spike?" She called; stepping gingerly outside and praying that this was all some trick of his to surprise her.

"Spike?" She tried again; hearing nothing but the wind blowing through the trees, creating a gentle 'shh' sound.

She almost tripped over the bouquet of flowers in her desperate strain to catch a glimpse of Spike. She bent down and picked them up, smiling when she saw what they were. Roses, some red, some a deep indigo and some black. The red ones reminded her of the necklace she'd just been thinking of. These had to come from Spike.

True, she'd been hoping to see him but she guessed he wasn't quite ready for that yet. The flowers were a nice start though. He was always so good at knowing what she was thinking.

"Let's put you in some water." She told her gift, taking the flowers indoors and closing the door behind her.

Buffy had never really had a green thumb but she decided to have a go at flower arranging and began to place the roses the way she wanted them. It actually wasn't has hard as she'd imagined and she soon had them looking just right. She then spent another half an hour trying to decide the best place to put them before she was finally happy.

Once she was satisfied that everything was right she leaned over and inhaled the flowers deeply, wanting to savour their scent so that she could be reminded of Spike whenever she smelt them.

As she took a deep breath the smile faded from her face. Something wasn't right. In fact something was very wrong. Not only did the flowers not appear to have any scent, but she suddenly found that she wasn't feeling so good. Her head felt so light, like it was barely attached to her body, and the room around her was swimming in and out of focus. Buffy looked at the blurred image of the flowers in front of her and realised to her dismay that they were obviously laced with some sort of drug.

With a small moan she stumbled back towards the door, willing her body to stay functional long enough for her to get outside. If she could just get some fresh air she might be able to avoid passing out.

After missing the door handle three times she managed to get it open and stagger onto the porch, right into a pair of muscled arms. She raised her head, expecting to see Spike but instead found herself staring into the eyes of a demon. The horned and scaly variety. She pushed weakly against his chest, trying desperately to get away but this only caused the demon to laugh.

"It's no use fighting." He said, his voice deep and throaty. "You have been chosen."

A clawed hand began to gently stroke her hair and that was the last thing she felt before she passed out.

"Sleep well, princess." The demon said softly as he continued to stroke the hair of the unconscious Slayer. With a small grunt he hefted her up into his arms, cradling her like a small child. He then carried his precious burden back into the darkness where his master was waiting.

* * *

He knew something was wrong the moment he rounded Revello drive. He knew it, it was something that hit the bottom of his stomach like ice cold water and froze him on the spot.

He tried to remain clam, maybe she had just sliced her finger cutting onions, something simple like that, something that he could cure, he could help in.

He suddenly felt foolish for running out on her the night before, maybe he should've waiting, chilled down a bit, thought about it some more instead of just running out of there like a bat out of hell.

He also couldn't help when he broke out into a supernatural run, like a madman down the street, like his entire universe depended on it...it probably did.

The door of the house was opened.

The ice in his stomach was pumping fire and ice, making him nauseous. He was going to heave, he swore he was going to heave.

"Buffy!" he cried, bursting into the house.

No struggle, no blood, no nothing....maybe it was his imagination...something more explainable....

He noticed the flowers on the table and his brow instinctively arched. A smile slowly crept to his face.

"Pet?" he walked closer, his heart being held by this guilty block that was slowly sinking in his heart. She had gotten him flowers...or maybe they were from the college bloke, Bryan whom Spike hated with a passion and the idiot refused to leave Buffy alone. He growled.

"Buffy!" he called again, ready to rip the flowers apart. "Get down here!"

No word. Not a sound.

He stopped, listened...for her heat, her heart.

Nothing there.

She wasn't there. The ice block came back to his stomach and settled there once more, his palms became sweaty and he walked closer to the flowers.

Then it hit him.

Chloroform.

He sniffed once more.

Chloroform.

He picked up the base, looked it over...he could smell her in it, she had been close to this.

Which only meant one thing.

She had been taken. Without further thought he swung the flowers against the dining room wall and let them scatter on the floor and then howled, game face showing.

"Someone has a death wish." he growled.

* * *

Buffy's head pounded and she did her best to lie as still as possible. If she didn't know better she'd have said she had a hangover. That didn't make any sense though. She'd stopped drinking as soon as she'd found out she was pregnant, she wouldn't even touch a single glass of wine. She didn't want anything to endanger their baby. Spike had even quit smoking. But despite all their best efforts it still hadn't been enough. They'd still lost their child

With a soft moan she opened her eyes and almost wished she hadn't.

No longer safe in her house she found herself in a strange room she didn't recognize. It was lavishly decorated; the walls painted a deep burgundy color and lined with ancient looking paintings. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and above blazing fireplace hung a large gold framed mirror. This looked like something to be found in a king's palace.

As she attempted to sit up, the room began to bend and weave in front of her eyes and she was forced to lie back. Clearly whatever had been done to her hadn't worn off yet.

"Ah, excellent." A voice beside her said. "You're awake."

Raising her head Buffy saw a demon standing at the foot of the bed, looking very similar to the one she'd seen just before she passed out. With a sigh she dropped her head back. Why did these things keep happening to her?

"You'd better be gone when I get my strength back." She said calmly, not even bothering to look at him. "I don't appreciate being kidnapped."

"Yes, my apologies for the rather drastic action." The demon replied. "But it was imperative that we met. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Claviculus, leader of Mi'athok tribe."

"And that's supposed to mean something to me?" Buffy asked wearily. "I'm not big on the demon names. I leave that to my partner."

"Ah yes, your vampire lover." Claviculus replied, moving around the bed and taking a seat at Buffy's side.

Buffy turned her head sharply and looked at him "You know about Spike?"

"I know a lot about you, Buffy Summers." The demon smiled. "My people have been watching you for some time."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Great, a demon stalker. That's all I need."

Claviculus chuckled. "Yes, I've heard tales about your fiery nature. I'm happy to see it's true. Now, I suppose you're wondering why you are here."

"I bet you can't wait to tell me." Buffy grumbled.

Claviculus ignored her last comment and began his tale.

"Our race is dying out, Buffy. Something has caused our women to become infertile. Recently we decided that the only way to prevent ourselves from becoming extinct would be for us to mate outside the tribe."

Buffy's eyes widened and she gasped as she realized just what he was implying. "You've got to be kidding me!"

The demon shook his head. "I'm deadly serious. I've heard from your own lips that you have no aversions to sleeping with creatures outside your own species. I want you to be the mother to my heir."

For a few moments Buffy's mouth could only open and close, the words refusing to come. This was insane. In face it was more than insane.

"You don't understand." She finally said. "It's not that I go looking for demon's to sleep with. Spike's different. I…I love him."

She knew it in her heart, and no matter how many fights they had she would always love him even if he couldn't bring himself to love her back.

Claviculus stiffened and rose to his feet. "I see. Very well."

As he swept out of the room Buffy prayed that the intention wasn't to kill her if she refused. With the amount of drugs still in her system there was no way she'd be able to fight back.

* * *

Outside Buffy's room a demon greeted Claviculus as he exited.

"Well?" He asked.

"It is as we thought." Claviculus fumed. "She has refused me. Prepare to do the spell."

"Certainly." The demon bowed before disappearing into another room.

Claviculus turned and ran his clawed hand down the wooden door.

"If you will not come to me willingly then we have other ways."

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TBC…