*****

The letter crumpled in my hand and the tears started to fall. It has been a long time since I really cried, more than a hundred years. There was never really anything worth crying over. Grief at the passing of friends, of the crimes committed, but not crying.

There are few things that I have regretted in my unlife, one of them being my Childe, Spike, who has a tender and kind heart though he tried to disguise it, and Drusilla, whom I had driven mad. But the thing that I regretted most was Rupert. Not telling him of my feelings hurts the most, though I suspect that he knows about them. He never showed any signs of reciprocating, but then how could I expect him to?

It was a gradual thing but I found myself falling in love with him even as I was courting his Slayer. I think I loved Buffy only because she was the next best thing since I could not have him.

I used to imagine what his hands would feel like on me, to feel him beneath me, running my hands over that wonderfully trim and firm body and to taste of him, to kiss those wonderful lips that seemed capable of bringing so much pleasure.

Then, I didn�t need to wonder anymore.

When I turned, my first thought was of him. Everything I did thereafter was aimed at causing him the greatest suffering, and what better way than to watch his Slayer suffer, his love taken away from him. But my foremost thought, my every action was only for one purpose; to bring him to me willingly.

I underestimated him as usual. I was delighted when Drusilla brought him to me. I would finally have what I wanted; to taste of him, to feel him against me, to be in him. I�d waited for so long and to finally have my deepest desire in my hands, I almost ruined my own plans with my impatience.

He resisted my every effort to break him, clinging on to plain stubbornness. No matter what I used or did, he would not yield. I had wanted to break him first, to break his mind before turning him as I did Drusilla, so that he would remain at my side for eternity. It would be too dangerous to turn him with his mind intact. He would have become even more powerful than the Master.

Taking him would be to consummate our union.

I took him on the cold hard floor, pinning his wrists down. Oh, he struggled at first, when he realized what I was going to do, but he was too overcome with exhaustion, and weakened by the injuries I had inflicted on him, to fight against me for long. I entered him in one smooth thrust, feeling his warmth surrounding me, his muscles clenched tight around me. It was more than I could imagine. It was�exquisite beyond belief.

Throughout it all, he remained silent, except for those brief moments of resistance, his eyes blank. I bit him as I came, the taste of his blood, filled with long forgotten power, heightening the pleasure.

When I came back from Hell, I found it hard to face him. Only when spirits haunted me did I go to him. I�m still surprised that he helped me. I would not blame him if he had not, not after all that I had done. Till this day, we never spoke about what happened. He never alluded to it and I was too much of a coward to broach the subject.

When I left Sunnydale, it was not because of Buffy though she did play a part in my decision. I had found myself gradually losing whatever love I had for her, and I could not continue pretending that I truly loved her. It hurt too much and would be unfair to all of us. Better to break it off earlier than later. At least it would not hurt as much, and indirectly, he would not be left to console an inconsolable Slayer.

During my time in Los Angeles, I found myself thinking of him. Distance had not lessened my longing for him. It had, in fact, increased them. Having Wesley around made it worse sometimes. He was so reminiscent of him in some ways; the love of books, tea�

I went back during Thanksgiving, partly to see him, and to warn him. I could not have borne his grief if something should ever have happened to Buffy. He would not meet my eyes when we talked, and it was with some hesitation before he invited me into his house. A shroud of loneliness seemed to surround him and I soon found out why when I asked where the rest of them were. For a moment, I found myself furious at them. How could they neglect him like that? Didn�t they know what a precious gift they were ignoring? In all my years of existence, he is the most precious gift I have ever found.

I left with a heavy heart once the problem was solved. Perhaps I should have stayed but my responsibilities lay elsewhere, though my heart resides in Sunnydale. Nevertheless, I think I would have thrown it all away if only he would look at me voluntarily, to allow me to stay by his side.

I now wish I had stayed, had told him how much I loved him. And now, it was too late. He was dead, killed by some demon hybrid. If Buffy had not killed it, I would have hunted it down and taken pleasure in torturing it. And to make things worse, I received a letter from him, to be sent in case of his death. Words could not express the pain I felt at receiving it. In it however, one thing caught my attention.

He loved me.

I was stunned beyond words. Never in a thousand years did I dream that he would feel the same, especially after what I had done to him. And now, it was too late. How much time had we wasted, skirting around the issue, afraid to take that step, to make the first move?

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I dreamt of him last night. In my dream, he was smiling, laughing. I had never seen him that way before. He told me that he would wait for me to join him before travelling on together. When I woke, I thought I could smell him, a mixture of musty books and tea.

Now, sitting by the window and waiting for the sunlight, I�m sure that I made the right choice. We had wasted too much time and I did not want to wait any longer. After all, I could not continue on knowing he was on the other side, delaying moving on to his reward just to wait for me.

As the sun shone into the room, I saw him, bathed in the golden light, shaking his head in exasperation at my impatience. He reached out a hand for me though, and as I took it, I could feel my mortal body crumbling into dust, blown away by the breeze from the open window.

He was smiling at me but I could tell he was just waiting for the moment when I least expected it to lecture me on my rashness. I couldn�t care less. I would listen to whatever lectures he had as long as I could be with him.

Together, we stepped into the new world that awaited us, him eagerly telling me his theories of what might lie before us. For me, I�m just content to be by his side. My existence will be brighter just because he�s willing to have me with him.

~~The End~~