The night was cold and unforgiving. The rain came down in sheets. It reminded Buffy of the romance Angel and herself had shared. Their coming together had been a night like this. But this night was not a night for romance, it was a night for forgetting and tears and broken hearts and no more of abuse. Buffy knew Spike would never, could never, take her words well, but she knew there was still an intense need for saying them. She could no longer hurt herself and she could no longer hurt Spike. She knew he would never admit to it, he loved her far to much to come down to earth, but he knew as well as her, her meetings were tearing him apart inside as well as out.
Buffy rapped her knuckles against the stone door of his crypt. "Spike! Spike! It's me!" she called over the thunder and the rain hammering against the pavement. She was soaked and cold and shivering, but she didn't notice and she didn't mind.
Spike answered the door without a shirt on and his pants unbuttoned, only reaveling a little bit of pale skin beaneath. Buffy figured today was not an exception to the no underwear rule Spike had made for himself. She shouldered past him, and he smiled, all the love and admiration he had for her coming out.
Buffy rougly grabbed his zipper and jammed it up and buttoned his jeans. Spike laughed a little. "Didn't want to do what you came here for?"
"I came here to tell you I hate you. Sit and listen." Spike did as instructed, still giving her his evil grin. "Love and hate are the same thing. There is a thin line between the two and crossing one, is bringing the other with you. And the day I started loathing you, is the day that love meant something else. I dragged it with me, granted, but it could never be there. Never. I hate you and when I came back, I was tore from the happiness of Heaven, I wanted to feel something. God, even hate! And you felt love for me, that was something at least. And I had hate for you. That was something else. It was the same emotion, it comes from the same core. If you are a lover, you are a hater. And I hate you. I hate you and all that you stand for. I can't do this anymore, Spike. I can't let you love me when I know I can never return the emotion, except in the twisted form. Hate comes from a heart, too, Spike. A blackened one. And mine, is as black as it can go because I quiveer with raw hatred for you! Spike, I can't move any farther into the darkness."
Spike's smile faded, but his sapphire eyes sparkled with even more love. "You're wrong, Buffy. Tell me, you don't love me."
"I don't."
"No, say, 'Spike, I don't love you.'"
"Fine. Spike, I do.. I do... I do love you." Buffy threw her arms around Spike. Her body shook against his own bare skin. "I do."
"See. Love is not hate. Love is something else. You just couldn't let it out. You didn't want to love. You didn't want to love to keep you here. Buffy, love is not something we can just forget and push away. Love me. Love me, and you'll be free. We'll both be free. Because when I die, without you, the gates of Heaven will never let me in."
"But, Spike. You'll never die. You'll never love."
"I love everyday, I love you. I may not have a soul, but I have feelings, the feelings that come along with love. Happiness, pleasure, love itself. I can feel that. As well as heartache. And when you died, a part of me was buried in that grave along with you. And when that happens again, and I'm sure that it will, I will die. And you will kill me. Love is forever, Buffy. Love is the way it is. Love will set us free." Spike placed his smooth, cold lips on Buffy's, and Buffy felt all the love bottled up inside her poor out. She felt free, she felt like she was floating. She felt like she was in Heaven again. She was free. She gave all her love to Spike.
Spike wrapped his bare arms around Buffy. "Love sets us free." The two faded into the night, arms wraooed around each other, glad for once, the other was with them. Both of them, free. In the rain and the storm, free. In all the hatred in the world, their love radiated it and chased it away. Free.
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