We've been down here for about a day. She took a lot of hits during the cave in and the fight before, but that isn't what's killing her. She's dying because we're sealed in this bloody cavern, and we're running out of air.

She's going to die, and I can't do a damn thing about it.

"Spike?" she rasped, "I'm so cold."

I took off my coat and wrapped it around her. God, she sounds so weak, so helpless. "It's going to be all right, Slayer. We're going to get out of here."

She shook her head, putting an end to the stream of meaningless lies. "Maybe you will, but I won't."

"I'm going to find Angelus, and I'm going to slaughter him," I stated, "He's not going to get away with this."

She smiled indulgently. "Make him hurt," Buffy whispered, her voice breaking off in a cough, "Make him bleed."

"Count on it," I whispered. My voice sounded shaky even to my own ears. I was almost glad of the darkness because she couldn't see my tears. She couldn't see me crying, but she felt the small shudders that went through me as I silently sobbed over what I was losing.

I pulled Buffy closer to me, holding her as tightly as I dared. As our lips met, I felt moisture on her cheeks and realized that she was crying too.

Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can't deal it's so unfair

We stayed like that for a long time, alternating between kissing and just holding each other. She can't die, not now, not after everything we've gone through together!

She tore her lips from mine and gasped, her breathing growing erratic. "Spike."

"I'm here, pet."

"Do something for me?"

"Anything," I answered, without a second's hesitation.

"Tell me why."

She started coughing again before she could finish the question, but I knew what she was asking. "First time I saw you in The Bronze I wanted you, and every time we fought I wanted you more. We were both hurting. We both lost the people we loved because of that bastard, Angelus. I think I finally realized how much I needed you."

"I needed you too." Her hand gripped mine, and I was shocked by how weak the grip was. She's slipping away so fast. I have to tell her before she-

"Buffy, I love you," I whispered.

She smiled the sweetest smile I've ever seen, but the happiness failed to reach her eyes. "I love you too," she replied. Then, in a voice so soft I had to strain to hear it, she said, "Kiss me."

And I did. I kissed her with the love and intensity of every kiss we've shared and every kiss we haven't, and I held her tiny form against mine, wanting nothing more than to protect her but knowing that I can't.

She pulled back, and I watched helplessly as she drew one final shuddering breath before collapsing in my arms.

"Slayer? Buffy?" My frantic cries echoed through the tiny chamber as I searched desperately for a pulse. There was none. She's gone.

The Slayer, my mortal enemy and my tragic love, is dead.

And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it feels
Yeah it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you've gone away

They found us less than two hours later. If they'd been two hours quicker or if Buffy had been able to hang on for two hours longer, she'd be alive.

Two bloody hours.

She survived demons and monsters and every type of evil the Hellmouth could throw at her, but she still couldn't kill the demon who wore the face of the first person she ever loved, and that proved to be her undoing.

Angelus had lured us to an abandoned mine on the outskirts of town. He knew in a fair fight he'd lose hands down, so he he brought close to a dozen minions to keep me busy while he killed Buffy.

At the height of the battle Mother Nature decided to betray us by unleashing an earthquake. It was small by California standards, a 3 at most, but it was enough to bring the mine down on top of us, trapping Buffy and I in a chamber only slightly bigger than a closet.

A chamber that became Buffy's tomb.

*****

The funeral was a small affair. Her friends stayed away from me. I think, with the exception of the redhead, they blamed me for Buffy's death. The dark haired boy looked at me with such pure hatred that I was surprised he could restrain himself from staking me.

Near the end of the ceremony the redhead, Willow, my memory chided me, approached me.

"I know you didn't do it."

The conviction behind her words startled me. "What?"

"I know you didn't kill Buffy," she said, "And so does everyone else. Giles is too grief-stricken to care about anything, and Xander-" A pause. "Xander needs someone to blame, and you're convenient."

"Thanks, Red. And if it's any consolation you can tell them that Angelus isn't getting away with this. He's going to pay if I have to kill him with my bare hands."

"Good," she stated. Before I had a chance to reply she turned on her heel and walked back to her friends.

Her friends stayed at the grave for about another hour. Finally, around ten, they left the cemetery, leaving me alone with Buffy.

Leaving flowers on your grave
Show that I still care
But black roses and Hail Marys
Can't bring back what's taken from me

For the first time I approached her grave. I had kept my distance while her friends were there, choosing not to aggravate their already volatile emotions.

I knelt down on the ground in front of her grave and placed a single purple iris on the freshly turned earth. Roses were Angelus' style, not mine. Irises seemed so much like Buffy. They shared the same brightness and vibrancy. Roses, even white roses, have an air of darkness about them, and Buffy was nothing but light.

"Slayer," I began, "I don't know what to say. This is the first time I've ever cared that someone was dead. When my mother died I was three, too bloody young to know what had happened, and when my father died, I didn't grieve because I was the one who killed him. Death has always been a part of my life, but it never really touched me. Until now.

"Now, my whole world is drastically different. Nothing is the same anymore. I came to you looking for a way to make Angelus pay for what he'd done to me. I was a double agent for awhile, until they found out, and I was forced to choose a side. I chose yours, but I never dreamed that I'd fall in love with you."

"Touching."

I tensed at the sound of the familiar and hated voice. "Angelus."

"The one and only."

I turned around, feeling an incredible need to wipe that smirk off his face. "What do you want?" I growled.

"Only to pay my last respects."

"You're the one who bloody killed her!"

"That's just a technicality," he stated.

"You sick fuck."

With feigned horror Angelus exclaimed, "Spike, such language! There are ladies present." His lips twisted into his typical mockery of a smile. "Of course our dearly departed Buffy was never much of a lady-"

A right cross in the jaw stopped Angelus mid sentence. "Don't you ever say her name!" I snarled. "You don't have the right!"

The punch barely phased Angelus. "Spikey, I had the right. Even better, I had her."

It took every ounce of restraint I had to keep from attacking him. I wanted to rip him apart. I wanted to make him pay for everything he had done to me, to say nothing of what I wanted to do for the things he had done to her. He expected that, and I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of having anticipated me.

Instead, I kept my face passive and my eyes cold. "You and I both know it wasn't you she slept with. It was soul-boy, not you," I stated.

Angelus roared in fury and attacked me. Before he had a chance to touch me, I backhanded him to the ground. The blow startled him, and I seized my opportunity. I retrieved one of Buffy's stakes from my coat pocket.

"I'd like to take the time to gloat, but I don't really think it's necessary." I pressed the point of the stake against my sire's chest. Leaning close to his face, I hissed, "You lose."

I reach to the sky
And call out your name
And if I could trade
I would

As I watched Angelus crumble to dust, I felt my rage drain away, leaving me with only grief. The stake slipped from my suddenly numb hands.

It was over.

It was finally over.

"For you, Slayer," I whispered, gently caressing the cool marble of her headstone, brushing away the ashes that had settled on its surface. Angelus died on her grave. I guess that's what you call poetic justice. Funny, I don't have much of a stomach for poetry anymore.....

"I'll miss you." Reverently, I laid the stake on her grave - a final memorial to a fallen warrior who would never rise again.

And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven's so far away
And it stings
Yeah it stings now

As I walked away from the Sunnydale cemetery for the last time, I noticed how cold it had suddenly become, far too cold for southern California. The night also seemed darker than usual. I looked upwards and saw that the sky was pure black. There were no stars tonight.

And I knew exactly why.

The world is so cold
Now that you've gone away

The End