Prologue:

Somewhere outside an English University.

Xander Harris had just had a vision. He shaded his eyes and watched as her sunlit form moved gracefully across the quad. Long blonde hair floated around perfect facial features like a veil. Skirts swirled around shapely legs. Exquisite breasts strained against a skimpy top. And he was in love.

Chapter One

Five minutes later.

"So, did you get all that Xan?"

"Uh yeah." Xander looked down at his friend who was lying full length on the grass, an open notebook resting on his stomach. "What?"

"The vampire, do you think he should look like me?"

"Vampire...what vampire?" Xander turned his attention back to the vision. That top, it was only just decent. Which was good. He willed her to come closer..

His friend flipped himself effortlessly into a sitting position. "The vampire in the computer game we are supposed to be writing." He waved his hand in front of Xander's face. "Hello, anyone home?"

Xander snapped out of his trance. "Oh, that vampire. A Billy Idol wannabe. Give me a break Spike. Who's that going to scare? Except for your mother. Do you think I should go help her?"

"You need to help my mother?"

"No, you prat." Xander looked around. "What, is she here?"

"Xan," Spike snapped his notebook shut, "what makes me think I've been talking to myself for the last ten minutes?"

"That my friend." Xander made a grand gesture towards the vision who was now engaged in picking up the books she had dropped. Her shapely backside wiggled enticingly as the two men stared in appreciation. Of course the fact that the sunlight had rendered her skirt virtually see-through was helping their powers of concentration enormously.

Spike whistled softly. "Verrry shaggable." He caught Xander's look and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose."

Xander gave him a shove which knocked him flat. "You are talking," he placed a hand over his heart, "about the woman I love. So watch your mouth."

The vision had retrieved her books and had them balanced precariously under one arm. She was lowering herself gingerly and groping for her bag. Xander started to get up but Spike pulled him down.

"Hey, let go. I need to carry that bag. Throw my coat down in a puddle or something"

"You should go throw yourself in a puddle." Spike sat up again. "A very cold one. Now put your tongue back in, wipe the drool off and give some attention to this game. " He reached for the notebook. "We have a schedule here that doesn't involve getting your knickers in a twist over American exchange students." He stole another glance at the girl's retreating form. "No matter how shaggable she is."

Xander sighed as she disappeared into one of the grand old buildings surrounding the quad. "She looked a real lady, didn't she? All prim and posh. All virginal and just waiting for..."

"Americans don't do posh." Spike slapped the notebook into Xander's lap, causing him to yelp. "And believe me. She's no virgin."

"And you'd know because?" Xander looked round suddenly. "Oh- my- god, you haven't...." He caught Spike's grin. "Okay, winding me up here. But you do know her right? You said she was American."

"Yeah. Don't exactly know her. Seen her around is all. Think she was at one of my seminars, don't rightly remember."

"Spike, I'm going to marry this girl. I'll need a bit more to go on than that."

Spike stretched his arms over his head and stood up. "This is a dead loss, I need some coffee to kick start me. You coming?"

Xander jumped up. "I need names, places, come on, spill."

"God, you're a pain in the ass Xan. All-right, she's got this weird name. Buff-something. Her daddy is stinking rich and endowed the library with a pile of books in exchange for his little rich girl to spend a year studying here."

Xander rubbed his hands together. "It just gets better and better." He put an arm around Spike's shoulders as they strolled along the path. Spike knocked it off. "Would you quit that. People are going to start to talk."

But Xander wasn't going to be put off. "And she's in the English department right?"

"Yeah. Got a thing for romantic poets, so I hear." This time Spike managed to keep a straight face.

"Romantic poetry, but isn't that what your PhD is... Okay." Xander stopped walking. "Time to point out two things my friend."

Spike pushed open the door to the cafeteria and tilted his head to one side. "And that would be?"

"Numero one." Xander held up a finger. "You are so dating my sweet sister. Drusilla, remember her? So you," he pointed at Spike and shook his head, "not available. And two, I saw her first."

"Well technically I saw her..."

Xander didn't let Spike finish. He pushed him through the door, and gave him a cheesy grin. "So you, my man-in the-know, are going to get me a date with that girl."
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Buffy Summers picked up the wine bottle and frowned. "This won't do Willow. It's still half full."

"Or half empty." Her friend covered the top of her glass with her hand. "No more Buffy, the room's starting to go all spinny and I..I'm not used to drinking, and..."

"And what? Come on Willow, I thought we were here to have fun." She'd met Willow at the university American Society, and even though Buffy thought she was a bit on the nerdy side, they'd been firm friends ever since. Buffy moved her hand and splashed wine into the glass. "Oops." She collapsed in a fit of giggles. "Hey, perhaps that nice waiter will come and wipe it up for us. Waiter..."

"Shh. He'll hear us." Willow looked mortified, then she hiccuped loudly. That set the giggles off again and earned them a disapproving glance from an old woman at the next table.

"That's the idea, birdbrain." She leaned out for a better view of him and nearly fell off her chair. "Hey, he looks a lot cuter after a glass or two, doesn't he?

Willow nodded and picked up the menu. She gave a strangled shriek and dropped it again. "Buffy have you seen these prices? I can't afford to eat here." She looked mortified. "I can just about buy a burger and fries.." Then she brightened. "But burger and fries are good, right?"

"Let me see that." Buffy snatched the menu from her and scanned it. "No problem." She flipped it down on to the table. "I'll pay."

"Oh no Buffy, I couldn't let you do that."

"No big." She fished into her purse and brought out a gold credit card. "See."

"No I couldn't." Willow's face reddened. "My folks aren't rich like yours. The whole family's helping to pay for my year in England and, well, I've just got to be careful."

"Then let me pay." Buffy poured herself another drink and stared at the glass, momentarily sober. "What's the most exciting thing you've ever done Will?"

"Me?" Willow thought for a moment and then she thought some more. "Well, coming to England by myself. That's exciting right?"

"I know Will." Buffy took a sip of her wine and then raised the glass and drained it. "But have you ever done anything, you know, really naughty?" She looked up and saw Willow's face go red again. She leaned forwards excitedly. "You have, haven't you, go on, tell me."

Willow gave her a sheepish grin. "Only if you do." She took a gulp of her wine. "Deal?"

Buffy nodded.

"Well," Willow began. "When I was in fourth grade, I was out shopping with my mom and," she leaned forward and whispered, "I stole a packet of balloons from a toy store."

"Oh" Buffy flopped back in her chair. "Is that it?"

"They were nice balloons, you know. With big mouse ears and cute little noses." Willow's face took on a dreamy expression as she remembered, then she looked up at Buffy. "That's not what you meant is it?"

"Not really. "Buffy started to fold her napkin into neat pleats. "Do you know what my dark secret is?" She inspected the napkin for a moment and threw it down onto the table. "I haven't got one. That's what it is. I'm a convent girl through and through and when I get back to the States I'll be expected to marry an appropriately rich guy, and raise a nice family of kids. Do you know how long I had to plead with my father just to let me come to England?" She pushed Willow's glass at her. "Look at us Will. Sensible hair, sensible shoes, sensible lives. Don't you want to really live a little?" She pushed her chair back and stood up, warming to her subject. "Well now we've got the chance. Drink up Will, never mind lunch. You and me are going to put daddy's credit card through it's paces and when we hit that club tonight, no-one's going to recognise us."

tbc.

Buffy wanted a big hole to open right in front of her and swallow her up. Why on earth had she though that this would be a good idea? "It's no good Willow, I've got to go." She tugged at her leather bustier. She'd been right, it was too small. "Everyone's staring at me."

Willow grabbed her arm and spoke through gritted teeth. "You are not leaving me by myself. This was your idea, remember? Besides, if I fall off these shoes you are going to have to drive me to the hospital. And no one's staring at us. Heck, nobody's even asked us to dance yet. "

Buffy groaned. Lunchtime and drinking. Definitely not mixy. After they'd finished the bottle of wine a visit to a very much ruder-version of Victoria's Secret had seemed perfectly reasonable. She remembered how they'd laughed till they cried as they tried on the merchandise. Willow's face had gone the colour of her hair when the owner had casually observed that she was a natural redhead after all. Perhaps the University club hadn't been the best place to try out their new images. Most of the students were dressed casually in jeans and tee shirts. There probably was a club that catered for the way they were dressed. But this wasn't it.

"Come on Buffy." Willow tugged her on to the dance floor. It was heaving with students dancing energetically to the pulsing music. "I like this one. Let's show them what we're made of."

"If this top falls down any more then everyone will see exactly what I'm made of. I can't dance if it's going to keep trying to fall off."

"Well at least I talked you out of the peephole bra."

"Oh, and you didn't want the crotchless panties?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe I actually tried them on." Willow's face had gone decidedly pink. "When that shop assistant walked in, I nearly died."

They both exploded with laughter. Buffy leaned across to the table to retrieve her beer. She took a deep swig. She closed her eyes as the effect of the alcohol kicked in. "What, are we a couple of nuns? Oh no. No more Miss Prim and Proper. Buffy wants. Buffy gets. We eat 'em up, then spit 'em out." She flung her hair back and held out her hand to Willow. "Girl Power."

Willow high-fived her, wobbled dangerously, then grabbed her around the waist to stop herself falling. She looked up at Buffy. "I don't think this is going to work."
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"Oh my god, she's a lesbian."

Spike shrugged out of his long leather coat. He threw it across a chair and flopped down next to Xander. "There's a lesbian now? I thought we were here to spy on Buffy."

"We are . . . I mean no, that makes me sound like a stalker." Xander pointed into the heaving mass of people. "She's with a woman. Look, they're practically snogging."

Spike looked. It was all a bit soft focus without his glasses and he didn't like wearing his contacts in the smoky club atmosphere. What he could see definitely made his heart skip a few beats. "Whoa, check out the gear. Told you she wasn't a virgin."

Xander's face fell. "It's not funny. She was supposed to be having my babies," he grabbed his beer glass and took a long swig. "Not hers."

"Come on Xan." Spike was used to his friend's amateur dramatics. "She is not a lesbian, believe me. Women are just a bit more, you know, er, tactile with each other."

Xander cheered up a little. "I like the sound of that." He leaned towards Spike. "So this is how it works. You go over there and introduce me and..."

"Whoa." Spike lifted both hands. "No way, I've done my bit. Got you the names and places. Your turn now, mate." He looked back over at Buffy, who was now dancing with a man who looked like an entire rugby team rolled into one. He well over six feet tall and at least twice her width. She didn't look comfortable with it at all. Spike suddenly felt inexplicably annoyed with her. What the hell was she doing wearing that ridiculous top? It made her look like a strip-o-gram. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. Then took a long drag, wondering why he cared. Let her make a fool of herself if she liked. It was a free country after all.

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The song ended. Buffy had never felt so relieved. She'd been clamped to a sweaty chest for what seemed like an eternity and was getting a stiff neck. She smiled sweetly at the enormous man standing in front of her and pointed towards what she hoped was the ladies bathroom. "Gotta go," she mouthed.

He leaned into her and fanned her with his beer breath. "Not leaving already?" His hand made its way up her arm and started across the top of her breasts. "The night is still young and," he grinned, "I haven't shown you my Tom Jones impression yet." He wiggled his hips suggestively, and tried to press himself against her.

"Willow!" Buffy's voice came out as a high-pitched squeak She slapped her partner's hand away and looked round for her friend. She was just about visible, hemmed in between three equally burly Neanderthal -types who were trying to impress her with their bump-and -grind routine. She looked terrified. The entire university rugby team had in fact just arrived at the club, very drunk and looking for action. They'd made a beeline straight for the girls and were showing no signs of moving on. It had seemed flattering at first, but the situation was rapidly getting out of hand. They seemed to be having a competition to see who could unlace Buffy's top first and everyone of them possessed at least eight hands.

She pushed her way between them and grabbed Willow's arm. "I need to pee. Come on."

"Hey." One of Willow's partners started clapping his hands together in a slow, steady rhythm which was soon taken up by the rest of the group. They circled around the girls, blocking their escape. "The floor show's arrived. Get 'em off girls."

Willow nearly collapsed on the spot. Buffy held on to her, looking around for help, but no one seemed about to interfere. A few students stopped what they were doing and looked on with amusement, but this kind of behaviour seemed par for the course. They were trapped. Buffy stared helplessly at the leering, hulking, group.

"What's a floor show, Buffy?" Willow's voice had gone decidedly wobbly.

"It's, well it's"...Buffy caught sight of her former dance partner. He was leaning up against a pillar, a lazy, amused look on his face. It was almost a challenge.

"It's this." Buffy stepped away from Willow and slowly raised her arms above her head. She brought them down slowly amidst much clapping and cheering. Then she slid her hands down the sides of her short leather skirt, leaned forward and wiggled her chest. The men went wild. One of them started up with the stripper theme music and they all joined in. Willow's eyes were wide as saucers.

"Okay, okay." Buffy had to shout to be heard above the din. "Calm down boys. We just need to go do what girls do." She winked. "But we'll be back real soon." She took Willow's arm again as the sea of men parted for her. "So keep it hot."

A round of cheering and whistles started up again and for one moment Buffy didn't think they were going to be allowed to leave, but they made it to the door in one piece. She took a quick look back and noticed her former partner still standing by the post, watching her. What she didn't see was the young man on the other side of the room choking on his beer.

They raced to the bathroom as fast as their six inch heels would allow. Buffy leaned against the wall, closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. She was rapidly coming down from the adrenaline high that her little escapade had induced. It had been scary, but there had been one moment when she'd felt real power. Something she'd never felt before. All eyes had been on her. They all wanted, well . . . her. And for a split second, she'd had them in the palm of her hand.

"Oh, Buffy. I thought you were going to..." Willow was staring at her, wide-eyed as if she couldn't quite believe what she'd seen. "What came over you?"

"I don't know Will. That guy. He was looking at me like... Well I just wanted to prove him wrong." She walked over to the mirror and almost didn't recognise herself. Too much make-up, too little clothing. Her dad would have a fit if he saw her now. He'd finally caved in on the year abroad but he wasn't happy about it. From the way he'd talked you'd have thought England was inhabited by barbarians. But once he'd seen how determined she was, he'd insisted on paving the way for her by giving large amounts of cash to the faculty, buying her a house, a car and topping it off with a generous living allowance. She loved him to pieces, but he'd never understood her need for independence. She was nineteen and he still treated her like a little girl. Thought money could buy him her love. Silly man. Didn't he know she loved him anyway? She splashed her still-flushed face with water and patted it dry with a paper towel. All the bravado had gone and large amounts of regret and embarrassment were now descending on her like a ton of bricks. She'd never be able to show her face in here again. "Come on Will." She picked up her bag. "It's time for operation get-us-home-in-one-piece."

The bathroom door opened and Buffy peered round. "Coast's clear, come on. Are you okay to drive?"

Willow nodded. "I hardly touched my beer. You?"

"Yeah, I didn't finish mine either. Oh crap, I've left my jacket on the chair." She scanned the room, looking for the table they'd been sitting at. The rugby players seemed to have lost interest in them and had broken up into groups. Some were standing around drinking, while a few of them were giving another set of girls a hard time. "Look, you go." She could see that Willow was dying to leave. "I might just be able to grab it and get out without them seeing me."

"But the floor show. You wouldn't..." Willow was in full concerned mode now.

"No, of course not. Look, I'm in serious denial here, with the blushing and everything. That is so never going to happen again."

Willow gave her a hug. "So it's back to the nun's costumes then?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna make my daddy proud."

"And you'll go straight home?"

"Actually I was going to invite the whole rugby team round for a private orgy, that's why I'm trying to get rid of you. So go already."

She pushed Willow through the door. "Call you tomorrow. And give some thought to my offer, you know, about moving in with me."

"Will do." Willow didn't look too sure. "Bye Buffy."

She tottered toward the exit, stopped to take off her shoes and disappeared through the doors. Buffy watched till she was out of sight. She hoped she hadn't scared her off with her antics tonight. Willow seemed a nice girl and having a fellow American around really helped with the homesickness thing. Now all she had to do was find her jacket and get herself out.

She sidled round the door and scanned the room. Then she felt a hand cup her bottom and squeeze.

"I've been waiting for you darling."

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Spike had just about had enough of Xander. He'd spent the whole evening moaning about his lack of a love life and had nearly twisted his head off trying to keep tabs on Buffy and the redhead. And now he was more than a little drunk

"It's Michael Angelus. You know, rugby captain." Xander drained his glass "That thing she was dancing with. And then there was the wiggling and the arms." He dropped his head to the table and banged his forehead on it. "She'll never look at me now. He'll kill me if I go near her."

Spike took the empty glass out of his hand. "You, my man, need to go home." He looked at his watch. "It doesn't look as if Dru is going to show. Look, I'll call you a cab and give Dru a ring. See where she's got to. Did you call by home tonight?"

"What did I do wrong Spike?" Xander gave him his puppy dog look. "Is it the hair? Cause," he burped loudly, "you'd tell me if it was, wouldn't you? Best friend and all that."

Spike picked up his coat and gave Xander a push. "Door's that way. Oh and the car keys?"

Xander took out his keys and dropped them into Spike's hand. "Be good to her. She's all I've got."

"I'm walking mate," Spike pocketed the keys as they made their way through the crowd. Just wanted to make sure." He glanced back as they got to the door. "Looks like the girls have split. Pity. It looked like it was going to be quite a show."

Xander gave an anguished wail. "They're probably having hot, sweaty threesomes, foursomes, even as I speak. Maybe the whole rugby team. Oh bugger." He clamped a hand to his mouth and shot through the door.

Spike phoned for a cab while Xander threw his guts up in the car park.

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Buffy slapped Angeles's hand away. She tried to be business-like but it was difficult when you were wearing your underwear on the outside. "I think you've had too many..."

"Looking for this love?" He held up her jacket. "Shame to cover up such a great pair of tits though."

"Okay buster." Buffy snatched it and backed off. "The show's over." She turned and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, relieved that he hadn't immediately tried to follow her. What a jerk. And how could she complain after what she'd done? She threw open the door and walked out into the dark, welcoming the cool night air on her face. She got the feeling that this year was going to be a learning experience in more ways than one. The still night was interrupted only by the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. "Ugh, gross." She slipped into her jacket and scanned the car park for her car.

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Spike steered Xander away from the remains of his night out and pushed him down into a sitting position. He sat down at the kerb beside him. "Taxi'll be here in a minute."

Xander slumped forward, his head in his hands. "God, kill me now mate." He shook his head. "Could I be a bigger wanker?"

Spike reached for his packet of cigarettes and took one out. "'Fraid not mate. He found his lighter and flicked it several times. Bugger, it was out of fuel. He put the cigarette back into the packet. He really needed to give up smoking, but not yet. It wasn't a good time.

"So what's the deal with Dru then?"

Xander shook his head but didn't look up. "Dunno. Called by home to pick her up. Mum said she hadn't got home from college yet. They're pretty mad at you."

Spike snorted. "So tell me something new." He stared up into the sky. "I'm worried about her."

Xander looked up. He still looked very green. "We all are. Look Spike. She's my sister and all that, but I'm with you on this one. Dru can be, well you know, she's always been..."

"Yeah mate." Spike stood up as the taxi approached. "I just wish you'd told me sooner."

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Buffy clicked the remote lock on her key fob. The smart red car answered her with a series of beeps and flashing lights. It was a beauty. Sporty and low slung and much too powerful for her. She hadn't been the world's best driver in the States and having to contend with driving on the wrong side of the road had given her more than a few hair-raising moments. She'd found it waiting on the drive of the house her father had bought for her and she had to admit that it was love at first sight. As she wound her way through the parked cars, she was aware of a car accelerating away and she saw that one of the men was still by the building, talking on his phone. She quickened her pace. It was too quiet and too dark. She looked back at him but he didn't seem to have seen her. She suddenly very badly wanted to be inside her car with the doors locked. And tomorrow morning that outrageously expensive leather thing was going straight into one of those charity bags she kept finding on the doorstep. She smiled as she tried to imagine who on earth it could be donated to. Not Help the Aged that was for sure. Then she heard a cough. Her hand froze on the door handle. Someone was standing right behind her.

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Spike had finally got hold of Dru's mother. He'd lost interest in the conversation just past the bit where Dru had turned up safe and sound and was now asleep in her bed. No thanks to him of course. He held the phone away from his ear as she droned through her usual litany of veiled threats and accusations. His hair for god's sake. What did that have to do with anything? He snapped the phone shut. Silly cow. Dru was anything but her little girl. Hadn't been that for a long while. The chirping of a car's remote locking distracted him and he looked up to see Buffy making her way towards it. He'd noticed that she'd been pretty agitated when she'd come out of the club, but he'd been too preoccupied with Xander to pay too much attention. A wave of laughter and music floated through the air as the club door opened and closed and a lone figure exited. Spike put his phone in his pocket and leaned against the wall. No harm in making sure she got off safely. For all her bravado in the club, she had an air of real naiveté about her. But bloody hell, she'd looked hot in that top.

Fuck. He suddenly recognised the dark-haired man who'd just come out of the club. And who was now making his way across the car park towards her. Spike watched him for a moment then started after him. He was just in the mood for a fight.

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Buffy turned around slowly. She twisted her keys so that they were pointing upwards in her hand, but she had no idea if she could really bring herself to poke someone in the eye with them as she'd been taught. It had all looked so easy in self-defence class.

"Oh, it's you." She slid the hand with the keys behind her back. "Wha..." He was carrying a bottle of champagne. She cleared her throat, and tried again. "Do you want something?"

He nodded towards her car. "Nice wheels."

Buffy backed up to the car, groping for the door handle. "Uh, yeah." Perhaps she could jump in and drive away before he realised what she was doing. She looked at the bulging biceps, straining against his short-sleeved shirt. But then again, perhaps not.

"Actually I wanted to apologise."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She hadn't expected that.

"Yeah. I was a real jerk in there. Sort of required behaviour when you're a rugby player." He took a step towards her car and braced one arm on the roof. "So I was thinking that, maybe we could start again?"

"Er. I don't think so. You see I'm very tired and I really should be..." She tried to duck down but he brought his other arm up, effectively blocking her escape and giving her a hefty whiff of his armpits.

"This is hard for me you know." He leaned down and whispered close to her ear. "I don't usually do sorry. But for you," he waggled the champagne bottle, "I'm willing to make an exception. Want to finish that dance?"

"Hey!"

They both turned at the sound of the man's voice.

"Michael Angelus? Hey man, this is such an honour. Spike's the name. Can I have your autograph?"

Buffy's mouth fell open. Now they were being joined by the Angelus fan club? She peered round the rugby player's big body and recognised the man who'd been talking on the telephone. But he looked more familiar than that. She'd definitely seen that bleached-blond hair before.

Angelus turned slowly and placed his hands on his hips. "You being funny?"

"Well, yeah, I try. Is it working?" The blond was at least a head shorter than Angelus but he wasn't backing off. He nodded towards Buffy. "I think the lady wants to go home."

Angelus didn't move. "And I think you need to fuck off and mind your own business."

"Look." Spike began to move slowly towards Buffy. "We don't want any trouble." He looked directly at her. "This nice young lady is going to get in her car and take herself off home, aren't you?"

Buffy stared back at him. Byron. She remembered now. The seminar. She'd thought he looked hot then but up close... Those eyes, she couldn't quite make out the colour, and those cheekbones. And that hair. The way it stood up in wavy spikes. Wasn't that what he'd called himself?

"Buffy?" He tilted his head at the car. "Get in."

She didn't move.

"Please."

"Oh." She shook herself out of her reverie and scrambled for her keys. She looked back at him. It didn't seem fair to leave him at the mercy of the brute. "Can I give you a..."

"Ahem." Angelus coughed theatrically. "Am I talking to myself here?"

Spike turned, having successfully inserted himself between Buffy and Angelus. "I guess you are. It's not worth it, Angelus. You can't afford any more trouble. Now be a good little boy and run along home."

Buffy cringed. This was a rescue plan? Spike looked like he was deliberately trying to pick a fight and Angelus, from the look on his face, was going to kill him.


It was the shortest fight in history. Buffy hadn't even opened her car door when Angelus lunged at Spike. He sidestepped and Angelus spun round and brought the champagne bottle down hard on the side of Spike's head. Buffy watched, horrified, as Spike crumpled to the ground. Angelus aimed a kick at his side for good measure and Spike groaned and rolled over. Angelus turned to her, broken bottle in hand and her heart nearly stopped. He looked her up and down disdainfully and then threw the bottle aside, turned, and staggered away. Buffy's heart remembered to beat again and she flew over to Spike and dropped to her knees. He was swearing profusely, blood dripping through his clenched fingers. She tentatively reached out a hand and he stilled and opened his eyes.

They were blue and full of pain and it was her fault.

He stared at her intently for a few heartbeats, and then he said,

"Are you an angel?"

tbc.

Chapter Three


The two angels floated in and out of focus and then slowly merged into one. Spike blinked several times to make sure he wasn't dreaming and then he realised that there was something wrong with his head. A warm, sticky substance was seeping through his fingers. Blood? His? What the hell was going on? He tried to sit up but the angel split into two again and they started dancing with each other, so he closed his eyes and lay down again. And they smelled of champagne. What the fuck was happening?

"Spikes?" Buffy crouched beside him, her hand hovering uselessly over his face. She didn't know what to do, and there was so much blood. "Spikes," are you okay?

He swore again and pressed his hands even tighter to the wound over his eye.

"Spikes, you've got to let me see how bad it is." She tried to disengage one of his hands but he wasn't having any of it. Hers came away slippery with blood. All right, sit up then." She slid an arm under his shoulders and tried to lever him up, her blood spattered fingers slipping on his leather coat. He wasn't helping at all. Didn't even seem to realise she was there. Just kept up his mantra of swear words with his eyes tight shut. She managed to get his head and shoulders off the ground but, what did she do with him now? The car park was deserted and she didn't want to leave him there. "Spikes," she said softly, "can you sit up?"

He opened his eyes at last and she breathed a sign of relief. He stared up at her, a mystified expression on his face, and then he craned his neck to look around. "Did I fall asleep?"

"No, he hit you." Buffy shifted his head into her lap, the rough concrete tearing at her knees through her very expensive and now ruined stockings. "Remember Angellus?"

Spike grimaced. This time he accepted Buffy's help and she managed to lean him against the side of her car. She fished in her bag and brought out a wad of tissues. Then she gently took the hand that was still holding the wound. "Let me see it Spikes."

God he was strong, and he wasn't letting go.

"Wanker." He twisted away from her. "Ow, that bloody hurts." He took the tissues out of her hand and pressed them to his head, bending forward with a groan and sending droplets of champagne dripping off his gelled hair.

Buffy sat back on her heels. He'd called her a wanker. She didn't know what it meant but it didn't sound good. And she'd only been trying to help him. Well, actually she'd been the cause of his unfortunate situation but she hadn't asked him to come to her defence, although she was glad that he had. The shock of it all suddenly hit her and she felt her face crumpling. She pointed vaguely in the direction of the club and started to get up. "Going for help. You just..."

He gripped her wrist. "No, don't do that." He let out a long breath. "Made enough of a prat of myself as it is. Is that wanker still around?"

"Oh." She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. Angellus was the wanker, whatever it meant. "He's gone. Can you stand?"

"Think so." He leaned onto her shoulder and pushed himself up, grabbing onto the car for support.

"I think I should get someone." Even in the dim light she could see that he'd gone very pale.

"I told you no. I'll be fine." He swayed and then righted himself. "See? Well, Buffy-from-America," he screwed up his eyes and looked at her intently, "are you crying?" Then he shook his head. "Now what was I....?" He frowned and then held out his hand. He took hers and shook it. "Thank you for a lovely evening. We must... Umm..." He pointed vaguely across the car park. "We really must ... You know, with the angel thingy..." He nodded at her as if she should know what he was talking about. "I'll just be going then." Then he turned on his heels and walked unsteadily away.

"Spikes." She started after him. "You're in no fit state to..."

"Not today love." He lifted an arm in salute and kept right on walking.

"Wait." She couldn't leave him like this. He wasn't making any sense. "You need to get to a hospital or something." He didn't show any signs of having heard her. Then she suddenly remembered her car. "Wait Spikes, I'll take you." She ran to it and opened the door. The steering wheel had disappeared. Then she spotted it on the other side of the car. Damn, if that didn't get her every time. She slammed the door and raced round to the other side, slipped off her heels and slid into the driver's seat. She stared at the console, trying to remember where everything was. "Key, key." She patted her pockets and finally located it. By the time she'd got the car started and into drive, Spike had disappeared.


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Spike stood at the corner of the car park. Right or left? Soddit, which way was home? He decided on the right. It looked vaguely familiar. His legs felt a little rubbery but the bleeding had slowed. He dropped the bloodstained tissues and searched his coat pocket for a fresh one. He didn't have any, so he bent down to pick up the discarded ones. Whoa. He swayed dangerously. Bad idea. And that was when he saw the car. A red, bullet shaped thing coming right at him. He took two seconds to register that it was Buffy driving and she wasn't about to stop, then he flung himself against the wall. As the car shot past him, he caught a glimpse of Buffy's surprised face, and heard the squealing of brakes. The rear end of the car spun round in a screech of burning rubber and the door shot open. He placed one hand over his rapidly-beating heart and sucked in a series of desperate breaths. As Buffy ran towards him, he wondered how many more times she was going to try and kill him tonight?


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Unfortunately, there was one - she insisted on driving him home.

"Left, left." He wrenched at the wheel. "We drive on the left in this country."

Buffy gave him an apologetic smile. "Oops"

"Look at the road you stupid..."

"Don't call me a wanker." Buffy took her eyes off the road again. There wasn't much traffic, but so far she had managed to drive the wrong way up a one way street and almost sideswiped a double-decker bus. And it didn't seem to worry her at all. She'd waved pleasantly back at the driver, obviously mistaking the gesture he'd made at her. Spike prayed that they didn't meet any old ladies on pedestrian crossings as he didn't hold out much hope for their survival.

"Because you know, it doesn't sound very nice." She jammed her foot on the brake as they came to a red light.

Spike flew forward against his seat belt and then slammed back into the seat. "Christ, woman. You've got to be the worst bloody driver I've ever met."

"Oh no." The car shot away as the lights turned green, "You obviously haven't met my cousin Tara," she said, pleasantly ignoring the insult. "Which way Spikes?"

"Over there to the right." He gave her a strange look. Where there two of him in the car? Because right now he wouldn't have been surprised by anything. He pointed to a small precinct of shops, "We need to find a late-night-chemist."

Buffy slowed the car and waited for a gap in the traffic. "A what?" She hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about. "Is he like a doctor or something?

"It's not a he, it's a shop, you know, pharmacy, drugstore? We're probably going to need some of those butterfly things."

Buffy negotiated the turn and stopped in the entrance to the precinct. "Oh, butterfly bandages." She leaned forward and looked from right to left.

Spike looked at her expectantly. "You're not going to leave it here are you?"

"No of course not," she looked around again. "I was just looking for a space."

"In an empty car park? Just do it, for goodness sake." He lowered the wad of tissues and looked at them. "Ugh, better get some more of these as well. And some antiseptic." He twisted himself and took out a ten pound note from the back pocket of his jeans. "And gum, get some gum, you know, the spearmint not the peppermint. What?"

"I was just wondering if there was anything else." Buffy arched an eyebrow. "What with me being your personal shopper and all." She shook her head as she negotiated the car into a space. "I mean, you could at least say please."

"Oh, forgive me for bleeding to death in your car." He took her hand and stuffed the money into it, then inclined his head and spoke in a little-boy voice. "Please."

Buffy felt a momentary pang of guilt. He was the one hurt, after all. And that was one serious cut over his eye. She reached for the door handle and stopped.

"Look Spikes about the hospital thing, I really think you..."

"No, no, no." He ran a hand through his hair. "Christ, what does it take? Read my lips. I'm not going to any hospital." Look, just go and get the stuff. Then you can patch me up and take me home. And then, I'm going to crawl into my nice, warm bed and forget today ever happened."

"Okay, Mr grumpy, but don't blame me when you keel over with a concussion or die of blood poisoning, or," she thought for a moment. "Glass poisoning. Can you get glass poisoning?"

"Or, I might just die right here and now waiting for you to GET THE BLOODY STUFF."

"Which would serve you right," Buffy muttered as she got out of the car. "You just can't help some people. "She felt monumentally responsible for his current predicament and she was trying to put it right. Okay, she'd nearly run him over, but how could she be expected to see him if he insisted on standing in the middle of the road wearing black? All he seemed to want to do was get as far away from her as possible. It had taken all her powers of persuasion, which were usually considerable, to get him into the car and to agree to at least let her patch him up. She pulled back her seat and reached for her shoes, then she realised how badly torn her stockings were.

"Oh no, I can't go in there looking like this. I look like a streetwalker." She heard him mutter, "You said it mate..." and favoured him with a glare.

"You could always take them off."

"Huh. You wish." His sarcastic tone stung her. What if she took him up on his offer? That would wipe that smug, smile off his face. It was the same feeling that she'd had in the club. Perhaps she'd been possessed by the naughty leather top but she imagined herself lifting her leg over the steering wheel and sliding her hands up it until she reached her garter belt. Then she'd slowly unsnap it, all the while looking straight into his deep blue eyes and then she'd roll the stocking down her leg and wind it around his neck. Then she'd pull him in for a ... She swallowed hard, slipped on her shoes and fairly ran to the drugstore.

She picked up the antiseptic wipes and painkillers and a packet of butterfly bandages. Then she put the butterfly bandages back. She already had these at her house. There was no sense in buying more. He hadn't asked to go to her house, of course but she didn't stop to question her motivation further. She queued behind a gang of teenagers who all seemed to be buying condoms and then made her way back to the car. She half expected to find it empty and really hoped that she wouldn't.


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Spike had contemplated running away. Or rather staggering away. The world had stopped spinning somewhat and he was thinking a bit more clearly but, despite his fear of hospitals, he knew that his wound needed looking at. He only hoped that her nursing skills were better than her driving. He leaned back into the leather seat and tried not to think about Buffy in a nurse's uniform with streetwalker stockings. He hadn't thought about Dru once.

Chapter 4

It was a short drive back to Buffy's house. As she negotiated the corner of the road where she lived. She caught the look of mild surprise that crossed Spike's face.

"This isn't the way, Buffy, I said left back there."

"I know," she said, as casually as she could manage. "The shop was out of butterfly bandages, but I've got some at home. You don't mind if we fetch them do you?"

"So, you're adding kidnapping to your crimes now?" The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to stop himself smiling.

Buffy felt herself reddening. She had practically kidnapped him, but he needed looking after -right? And she was saving him money, she rationalised. Which was a good thing wasn't it? She pulled up into her driveway and waited for the garage door to open. "Look, you don't have to get out of the car." She could see he was tired. I'll only be a moment."

"Relax Buffy, I don't mind." He sighed wearily. "Look, I'm sorry I shouted at you back there. Just get the job done. Don't mind where."

"So," she opened the car door, " You're coming in then?"

He nodded and reached for his door handle.

She felt a little twinge of apprehension as she punched in the code on the keypad entry. Why was she suddenly so nervous? She'd been alone with a man before. She jumped as Spike came up behind her. Could she really have taken her stockings off in front of him, the way she'd imagined. Would he have been shocked? And had he seen her do her little dance in the club? She stepped into the house and tried to quell the flock of butterflies that were gradually taking up residence in her stomach. Maybe she should have bought the bandages after all?

"Nice place."

"Yes, it's umm, convenient." God, he was good looking.

He followed her into the kitchen and looked around. "But not what you're used to, right?"

"Not exactly." She started to take off her jacket, but remembered what she had on underneath, and pulled it closed again. "But it's very nice. It's only got two bathrooms but..." He was looking ready to drop. She really needed to get the job done and let him go home. "I should stop talking now and fix you up. Go through Spikes," she pointed to the lounge. "I'll just get the stuff." As she climbed the stairs to the bathroom she tried to make a mental list of the things she was going to need from the medicine cabinet, but all she could think about were stockings.


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It was like something out of Homes and Gardens. Well, at least, he imagined it was. He didn't exactly read those sort of magazines. White leather sofas, glass topped tables, pretentious vases containing real flowers. He wondered idly if a boyfriend had sent them. A girl like her would have no shortage of admirers. And not just because she was stunning- looking. He was studying a silver-framed photo of a man and a young girl when Buffy came in carrying the medical supplies and a bowl of water. She put them down on the end table and walked over to look at it with him. "It's me and daddy. At the house on the Cape." A look of sadness flickered over her features. "That's the year mom died."

He put the photo down again. "Yeah, my mum's gone too. Leaves a hole doesn't it?"

They stood in silent contemplation for a moment and then he said, "Okay, where do you want me?"


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Well, naked and in her bed would do for starters. Christ. Had she said that out loud? His expression hadn't changed, so obviously not. She took a calming breath and indicated towards the sofa. "Let's just get your coat off and sit you down, shall we?" She stepped forward to help him, taking the lapels and pulling it down over his shoulders, hoping he didn't notice how much her hands were shaking. He twisted a little to help her and changed the hand holding the tissues to his head as she slid it away. A little tingle ran through her fingers as they brushed across his shoulders and trailed down his forearm. He wasn't hugely muscled like Angellus but she could feel the power contained by the tight, black t-shirt And that little touch was all it took for the temperature in the room to suddenly soar.

Their eyes met and held for a moment. Green into blue. 'Make a move Spikes,' she thought, 'I'm new at this, and I don't know what to do.' But he just stood there, watching her hand intently where it rested on his arm. Then he muttered a thank-you and flopped onto the couch. It made an extremely rude noise, as leather sofas are prone to do, and that started them both laughing.

Buffy felt the tension flow out of her and she realised how tired she was too. It had been a hell of an evening. She'd come close to making a complete fool of herself, nearly been attacked, and almost crashed the car. Together with the shock of seeing Spike hurt, she realised that she was running on pure instinct. Maybe that's all this attraction was. Two people thrown together by a traumatic experience. She was feeling vulnerable, and he was an extremely desirable male. And he was here, in her house. Not the basis for making one of the most important decisions of her life. She'd always thought she'd know when the time came. There'd be roses, and moonlight and no doubt whatsoever that it was the right thing to do. Instead, she found herself wanting and doubting at the same time. She was here for a year. It seemed a long time, but she knew it would fly by. Before she knew it, she would be on a plane back to the States and her time in England would be just distant memories. She picked up the washcloth and wrung it out. But would they be mingled with regret?


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Spike leaned forward as Buffy worked at cleaning the cut. It wasn't a very comfortable position. He twisted, and then she couldn't reach him, so she stood up and bent down to him. That gave him a wonderful view of her breasts straining at the laces of the top, where her jacket gaped open, which, in turn made him start to get very uncomfortable in the pants department. He turned his head so he couldn't see them and she turned with him, practically shoving them in his face. The cut-cleaning hurt like the blazes, but he was in heaven and hell at the same time. Now she had one knee between his thighs, dangerously close to the source of his discomfort, and was virtually straddling his leg as she fixed the butterfly bandages in place. He squirmed again, scooting back into the couch, trying not to breath in her subtle perfume. Trying not notice the way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated. Trying not to enjoy the silky caress of her hair as it swept across his neck every time she leaned towards him, or the feel of her hand as she gripped his shoulder to steady herself. And definitely taking no notice whatsoever of the way her skirt rode up her thighs as she bent her leg, showing a glimpse of stocking top. He remembered the comment he'd made in the car about her taking them off and his heart started a slow, heavy thudding in his chest. He wanted her with every fibre of his being. And he knew he could never have her.

For the first time since the fight, he thought of Xander and Dru.

"I'm sorry, am I hurting you?" She turned her soft green-eyed gaze on him and it was so full of concern that he nearly melted there and then. "It's just that this is such an awkward position. Perhaps if you lay down?"

That had given him a visual he could have done without. Him on his back, with her astride him, her hair brushing over his face. He swallowed hard as her knee slid in further. "Uh, Buffy. Do you think you could..." He pointed to her knee. "I need to..."

'Put some distance between us before I do something I'm going to regret,' he thought. He tried thinking of Dru, all long black hair and dangerously, dark eyes. Her wicked , red lips. But all he could see was golden hair, eyes that shone with a disarming innocence and pink, pearly lips that were begging to be kissed. Everything that was rational told him to step away from her and leave now. But he wasn't listening. He placed his hands around her waist and hitched her up, so that she was sitting on his lap properly. She let out a small gasp of surprise and their eyes locked once again.

"There," he said in a low husky voice. "Now at least one of us is comfy." And that picture of Dru still wouldn't come.


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"Oh." Two spots of rosy colour stained Buffy's cheeks as she realised where her knee had been nestling so comfortably. She still had her arm on his shoulder, and his had somehow slipped around her back, the other one resting almost possessively across her thighs. She was suddenly intensively aware of him on so many levels it made her dizzy. The faint smell of tobacco and leather, and something else, fundamental and earthy. The way his bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top one. The unspoken question in his eyes, and that hand, firm and warm. She wanted him to slide it higher, burning her flesh as it swept towards the point of no return. She wanted him to take the stockings off her, one by one, slowly kissing her skin as he revealed it. This was that earth-stopping moment that they talked about in romantic novels, when time itself seemed to stand still and nothing mattered but the two of them. Buffy made her decision. There was no more doubt in her mind that this was what she wanted. He was what she wanted. His head make the tiniest move towards her, and her heart turned over with anticipation.

And then his phone rang.

Spike jumped so hard, he nearly dropped Buffy on the floor. She managed to grab him around the neck, slithering down his body as he stood up, and they sprang apart like two guilty schoolkids caught stealing cookies. Jesus Christ. He had a hard on that was threatening to bust his jeans and he'd just been about to kiss her. And it wouldn't have stopped there. He fumbled in his coat pocket for his phone and jabbed the talk button. What the hell was he playing at? He was in love with Dru. Xander was his best friend. And he was one major, sodding, wanker for even thinking the thoughts he'd been having tonight. He was aware of Buffy hurrying out of the room with the medical supplies as Xander's voice cut into his thoughts.

Buffy leaned on the kitchen counter as she fought to control her raging emotions. Damned phone! He'd been going to kiss her. She knew it. And she'd never wanted anything so much. She pressed her hands to her face in an effort to cool her hot cheeks. She was caught in a confusing whirl of emotions, still trapped in the erotic haze into which they'd slowly but surely been drawn. She needed to get back in there fast. Before he cooled down. She'd felt the fire in him and it had burned her too. 'Seize the moment , girl,' she commanded herself, and shakily she began to slip the jacket from her shoulders. She pulled at the laces of the leather top to loosen them, just a little, then she opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of wine. She found two glasses and a corkscrew, then she padded back to the lounge. If she didn't make a move now she would regret it, so it was now or never. At the door, she stopped. He was still on the phone. Maybe it was his girlfriend? Her heart sank a little as the thought crossed her mind for the first time that evening. Of course a guy like him wouldn't have a problem attracting women. She'd seen how popular his seminar had been, and the mostly female students weren't only being drawn by Byron's charms!

"No, Xan, I haven't asked her yet."

She started to open the door but he was still talking and she couldn't help overhearing. She stood stock still, bottle and glasses in hand, as he continued.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna do it. You wouldn't believe what happened. I'm just worried she'll say no."

He was going to ask her out. She leaned closer to the door, her heart soaring. Had she heard him right? Silly man, she wasn't going to say no.

He was still talking. "Yeah, had a skinful tonight. I'm off the booze too."

Buffy looked at the wine bottle. Then she opened the coat-cupboard and stuffed it inside, along with the glasses. He didn't want to drink, that was okay.

"Got a lecture in the morning, the prof'l freak. Look, I'll do it, right. Then I'm going home before I drop."

Buffy looked down at the leather top. Now wasn't the time. But there would be others. Better to let him make the first move. The important thing was that he was going to ask her for a date. She wanted to run around the kitchen punching the air and shouting yes, then she heard him coming towards the door. There was a moment of panic as she realised that her jacket was on the kitchen floor, and she wasn't going to get to it in time, so she jumped into the coat-cupboard and grabbed the first thing that came to hand.

"Buffy." She heard him walk to the kitchen, then come out again. "Buffy?" He stopped right outside the coat -cupboard door.

Buffy held her breath. Anyway she played this it was going to look majorly weird. What possible excuse could she have for being inside a closet? 'Oh, by he way I was listening in on your conversation, and I had to hide in here because I heard you coming?' Well, that wasn't an excuse as much as a reason. "Way to go girl. the man of your dreams is waiting to ask you out and you're hiding in the coats. Nice one," she muttered to herself. And then she stepped back and lost her footing. She grabbed at the rack of coats and pitched over backwards in a clattering of coat-hangers. As the door slowly opened, Buffy lay in the mess of coats and hangers, wearing a full length fake-fur coat and wished for the second time that night that the earth would swallow her up.


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Spike managed to keep his composure remarkably well. He was, in fact, rapidly reaching the stage where nothing she did surprised him any more. There was probably a perfectly logical explanation for her being inside a cupboard, but he couldn't for the life of him think of one. And why was she wearing a fur coat? Not that she didn't look good in it. In fact it was downright erotic, and the way things had been going tonight... He squashed the thought flat. 'You can't go there mate,' he reminded himself, 'and Xander is bloody well going to owe me big-time for this one.' "Ahh, there you are," he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He hauled her out of the pile of coats and set her on her feet. "Buffy, I need to ask you something."


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She wouldn't have pegged him as shy. He'd suddenly gone all hesitant on her. Couldn't get the words out. She stood as nonchalantly as she could, given what she was wearing, not wanting to break the spell of this wonderful moment. The minute he was gone she just had to phone Willow. Then they'd have to find someone for her and they could have double dates and it would be perfect.

"So, what would you say if I told you I had this friend."

He stopped again, as if he was choosing his words very carefully. She nodded in encouragement. Maybe he wasn't quite the Romeo she'd thought he was. He seemed to be finding this very hard.

"This friend, right. He thinks you're umm, nice and was wondering if you'd, er, go on a date with him." The last few words came out in a rush.

Buffy felt a lump forming in her throat. This was so sweet. She hugged her fur coat around herself. "This- friend, is he afraid I'll say no?"

Spike let out a small, humourless laugh. "Something like that, and with him being a big coward and all that. What would you say Buffy?"

"I think I'd say yes. "She wanted to do the Snoopy dance around the kitchen. "And Spikes, tell your friend, not to worry. It's okay, really it is."

Spike didn't look as happy as she thought he'd be. She'd never been out with an Englishman before. She knew the English tended to be more reserved than Americans so perhaps this was how it was over here? Anyhow, she didn't care. He'd asked her out and she was ecstatic.

"Tomorrow?" He really looked glum now. Surely he hadn't been that nervous? "About eight?"

"That would be great." She noticed he was wearing his coat. "Spikes, let me drive you home."

"No, no." He lifted his hands. "Better if I just walk. More chance of living to see another day that way."

"So, my driving was that bad, eh?" It was only friendly banter but what he'd said was true. "Perhaps you could give me a few lessons?" she said hopefully.

He put one hand on the front door handle. "I don't think I'd be the best person to do that Buffy. And the name's Spike. There's only one of me."

"Ah. But it's not your real name, right?" She didn't want him to go. A few moments ago they'd almost made love and now he looked like he couldn't wait to get out of the house.

"No, it's a nickname, my sister gave it to me and it kind of stuck."

He stepped out into the damp, October night and they stood in awkward silence.

"Well..."

"What's.."

They both started talking at once. Buffy shook her head. "No, you go first."

"I just wanted to thank you for patching me up." He touched his head lightly where she'd put the bandages. "You'd make a hell of a nurse. When you weren't giving your patients near coronaries that is."

"Oh, my driving. I'm so sorry about that. Maybe I should get some English driving lessons."

He shook his head. "I wasn't talking about the driving. What were you going to say?"

"Oh, what's your real name?"

Spike turned, and walked down the path with a backward wave of his hand. "Now that would be telling. Goodnight Buffy-from-America. Don't forget tomorrow night."

She waved back. As if she would. And what was with the name? Was it some embarrassing family name? She watched him until he was out of sight. From his earlier directions she knew that he only lived a few blocks away, but still, he should have let her take him home, stubborn man. She closed and locked the door, feeling sorely in need of some beauty sleep.


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Spike opened the door to his basement flat. It was very basic, just a couple of rooms, but it had double doors that opened onto a little private patio and it suited him just fine. He threw off his clothes and crawled into his bed. Tomorrow he needed to ring Xander and tell him the good news, then he had to find out what Dru was up to. He didn't relish either task, and he was still aching down below from his incredibly erotic encounter with Buffy. Tonight could have ended so differently. He was one hell of a noble wanker and Xander really did owe him big-time for this one.


tbc

Chapter 5

By seven-thirty the next evening, Buffy had been pampered to within an inch of her life. She'd rushed straight from her lecture to a local beauty salon, and had the full works: hair, nails, facial, the lot. Then she'd met Willow, and they'd spent the afternoon trying on clothes in outrageously expensive dress shops. Buffy had eventually chosen three separate outfits - just in case she changed her mind later. After a mad dash back to the university for a meeting with her tutor, Buffy had rushed home, and was now trying on the outfits in front of Willow.

"So, which one?" She appraised herself in the mirror. "Do you think the mauve is too much?" The swirly, flowery dress was a little too summery for an English October, but it set off her colouring perfectly. She'd managed to keep her California tan with the help of a sun-bed which she had in a spare room.

Willow lay on her stomach on Buffy's bed. "Buffy, that's the fourth time you've tried that on. If he's worth freezing to death for, then wear it." She turned the page of the book she was trying to read. "Did he say where you were going? 'Cause that would be a clue."

Buffy turned once more and picked up two pairs of sandals. "No, he didn't say much at all, now, which shoes?" She waggled them in front of Willow's face. "Hey, you're not paying attention - again."

Willow sat up, snapping her book shut. She folded her arms, and looked directly at Buffy. "Okay, so now I am.. Did you call him, Buffy? You know, to see if he's all right?" She pointed to the sandals on the right. "Those would look nice. Because it sounded pretty horrible."

Buffy wriggled out of the dress and stood admiring her designer underwear. Just buying it had given her a delicious thrill. "It was Will." She turned to inspect her back view. "He really should have gone to the hospital. But, you know, men are such babies." She picked up the second dress. "He barely let me patch him up, but I had to practically kidnap him to do it."

"You did what?" Willow looked at her curiously. "You didn't tell me that."

"Umm." Buffy slipped the dress over her head. "He didn't leave me his number, so I couldn't call him, but he would have let me know if there was a problem, right?"

"No, about the kidnapping bit." Willow leaned forward. "Did you bring him here?"

"Well, yes." Buffy stood with her arms out in a 'what do you think?' sort of way. "Well."

"Bra strap," Willow observed. "And that was when he asked you out?"

Buffy twisted. "Oh crap, it is showing." She lifted the hem and started to pull it off, but then she stopped. "He was so sweet Will, all kinda formal and tongue-tied. Very, you-know, English." She picked up the third outfit, a blouse and skirt ensemble. "What do you think, too dull?"

"No, it's perfect Buffy, but," Willow looked serious for a moment. "You will be careful won't you? I mean, he could be anyone." She picked up Buffy's stuffed pig, and pretended to make it talk. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Buffy slipped her arms into the blouse. "I don't think there's anything to worry about, he did try to help me last night" She did up the buttons, then undid the top two. "And he's not just anyone, he's Spike." She frowned. "Stupid name, but it kinda suits him." She pulled on the skirt. "Oh Willow, he's so hot. There was this incredible chemistry. I've never felt anything like it." She fastened the skirt and turned to the mirror again. "Be happy for me."

"I am Buffy. Just don't go rushing into things, you know." Willow swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. "And think of me tucked up with Elements of Psychology." She picked up her book, and put it in her shoulder bag.

Buffy smoothed down her skirt. It was perfect for a chic restaurant, but what if they went to a club afterwards? What kind of thing did Spike like anyway? She realised that she knew very little about him. He was doing a PhD, liked to wear black and seemed to be scared of hospitals. Oh, and he was foolhardy and brave, and good looking.. But what else was there? "Hey, maybe he's like Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, you know with the mad wife in the attic? But, honestly Will, he seemed like a regular kind of guy, well, apart from the hair...and he was kind of mysterious about his real name."

"Maybe it's Rumplestilskin." Willow walked over to Buffy and gave her a hug. "I think I should be going. Don't want to cramp your style."

Buffy hugged her back. "Oh Will, we've got to find someone for you, then we can all go out together. This year is going to be so great. I just know it. Aagh, that's the doorbell."

For a moment they both stared at each other.

"He's early."

"I'll let myself out the back."

"Oh no, my earrings, where are they?"

"On your ears Buffy, You look great. Go let him in."

"My hair."

"Looks fine, get down there already." Willow blew her a kiss. "Going now."

And then Buffy was alone. As the doorbell rang again, She quickly ran a brush through her hair, checked her teeth, took a deep breath and picked up her evening purse. Time to go.

Willow ran down the stairs and into the rear lobby. She let herself out of the back-door, hoping that Buffy would remember to lock it after her, then tiptoed round to the side-entrance and opened the gate carefully. From where she was, she could see Buffy's date standing at the front door, holding an enormous bunch of flowers. They partially hid him from view, so she leaned out a little more. Funny, his hair was nothing like Buffy had described. She'd expected it to be, well, blonder. She jumped back behind the gate as he turned and looked round. Her car was on the drive, next to where he'd parked his and he was probably wondering who it belonged to. She watched him shuffle from foot to foot. 'Open the door Buffy,' she thought, 'I want to go home.' She couldn't just casually stroll out from the back of the house now, he might think she was a burglar or something.

She sneaked another look. Buffy hadn't been joking. He was good-looking, and that injury seemed to have healed but boy, did he look nervous. He was muttering to himself and holding out the flowers, then shaking his head and repeating the gesture. Then she saw him jump and heard Buffy's voice. At last, she was letting the poor guy in. As she dashed for her car, she couldn't help feeling a little envious. Spike was hot. Just the kind of guy she could go for, in fact. And she was a very bad friend for even thinking such a thing. He was Buffy's date and she'd made it clear that he was special. Willow backed her car off the drive and wondered maybe if he had a twin brother to spare?


------------------------------------------




Flowers. He'd sent her flowers. This just kept getting better and better. Buffy couldn't stop the goofy grin that was forming on her face. "Oh, they're beautiful."

"Glad you like them." The man handed them over with a flourish.

Buffy buried her face in the roses and breathed in their fragrance. When she looked up he was still there, looking at her expectantly. Tip. She'd forgotten to give him a tip. "Oh, how rude of me," she said, reaching for her purse, and taking out a five pound note. "Is this enough, because, you know, I haven't really got the hang of English money yet?"

He just stood there, giving her a strange look, and began turning very red. "Er, the flowers are for you Buffy." He clapped his hands, then rubbed them together. "You know, like a gift?"

"Yes, I know and they're lovely," she looked at the five pound note. "Isn't this enough?"

"Umm, you don't have to pay for them."

"Oh dear, you don't tip in this country." Buffy put the flowers on the hall table. "How embarrassing, I'm just so used to it, you know, being American. We have to tip everyone." He still wasn't leaving. "Well," she made a big show of looking at her watch. "I can't stand here talking all night. I have a date and," she leaned out and looked round him, catching sight of Willow giving her the thumbs up as she got in her car, "he'll be here any minute."

"And he'd be me."

"He'd be who?" Buffy took an abrupt step back.

"He'd be me. And I'm thinking we were having a bit of a mix up there. Did you think I was the..."

"Flower delivery man?" Buffy finished. "No, of course not." Realisation was dropping on her like the proverbial ton of bricks. "Are you Spike's...?"

"Friend. Yes." He ran a hand through his floppy, brown hair. "The one he told you about?" He held out his hand, "He did tell you about me?"

Buffy took his hand. "Yes, yes of course. You're, umm..."

"Xander." He shook her hand and did a little bow. "Xander Harris."

"Of course you are." Buffy managed to force out a little laugh. "He told me all about you."

Xander pulled a face, "Not everything I hope. Do you think we could this start again?"

"Okay, shall I shut..."

"The door?" Xander backed away. "Good idea. I'll just be here." He pointed at the door-step.

Buffy closed the door and leaned against it. Her spirits were rapidly nose-diving towards the floor. Spike really did have a 'friend'. How could she have been so stupid to have thought anything else? And that poor guy out there. Trying to tip him? He must think she was a nut-case. And now she couldn't not go out with him, what with the beautiful flowers and all that. He'd be so hurt. How could she have misinterpreted the signals so badly? It had felt so right with Spike the other night. How could he do this to her?


----------------------




"You steaming, great, prat. " Xander slapped himself on the forehead and stepped back. "Well, that was a great start." He looked at the door. "Serves you right if she doesn't open it. I wouldn't if I was inside." He paced up and down the step. "You're out of your league here mate. Look at that car." It was a very old Mini, and for the first time he didn't feel the wave of affection he usually experienced. It suddenly looked like what it was. A clapped out old banger with tin-foil over the radiator. How could he take her out in that? This was one heck of a posh neighbourhood. He should have borrowed Spike's car, only that wasn't much better. And look how she was dressed. She'd obviously been expecting more than a pub-meal. He felt such a fool. How could Spike have done this to him?


-------------------------




Spike had finally tracked down Dru. She was sitting on a bar stool in the lounge of The Frog and Ferrett with a group of college friends and some other people he'd never seen before. She didn't seem very pleased to see him.

"Hi, darling." He put an arm round her and pulled her in for a kiss, but she evaded him.

"My Spikey's been a naughty boy," she announced to the group. "Forgot all about me last night didn't he?" She turned her back on him, and smirked to herself.

Spike dropped his arm and tried to hide his annoyance. He didn't like her new friends and he didn't like her when she was like this. "You were supposed to come with Xander." She had that spaced out look and he guessed what she'd been up to. "He came to pick you up, but you weren't there."

"Oooh, is my Spikey all cross?" she giggled into her hand and turned round. "Gonna make it all up to you later, don't you worry." Her hand started a slow slide up the front of his jeans. "Dru's got something special. Just what you like."

He caught her hand and held on to it. "Come on Dru, we're leaving."

"Might not want to." She pouted and leaned towards the balding man who was sitting to her right. "Johnny's got something special for us. Ain't that right Johnny?"

The man gave a non-committal shrug, "Might have." He looked away, avoiding Spike's glare. "And keep it down Dru. Gonna get me chucked outa here."

Spike pulled her from the bar stool, and she fell into him giggling.

"Ooh Spike, what have you done to your face?" She ran her hand over the cut, causing Spike to pull back sharply.

"Careful love, got into a spot of bother." He turned to Johnny, who was still avoiding him. "Which is what you'll be in if I catch you giving her any more stuff. Got that mate?"

"You don't own her, man." It was one of Dru's college friends. He quickly backed off, and sat down as Spike turned on him. He held up his hands. "I was only saying."

Dru cuddled up to Spike. "He looks after me, my Spike does, and," she wagged her finger at Johnny, "you are a bad man."

"I mean it." Spike turned to Johnny again. "If you come near her..."

"You'll what?" Johnny spoke quietly, without turning round. "Watch it Spike, you're playing with the big boys now. You wouldn't want to upset me or my friends now, would you?"

"Bloody hell." Spike spun round, pulling Dru with him. Who the heck had she got herself entangled with? All he wanted was to finish his PhD, then he and Xander were going to try and make a go of their fledgling computer business. Poetry and computing. A strange combination, but he was good at both and he knew he could make something of his life. He'd even fantasised about him and Dru getting a place together when she'd finished college. This girl who he'd been mad about from the moment he'd set eyes on her, and who these days he hardly recognised. And he missed the old Dru, the sexy, passionate Dru who used to do things to him that no woman had ever done. He'd only just found out about her previous bout of drug addiction, the family had kept that well hidden, and now it seemed she was slipping back to her old habits. It was breaking his heart and she needed him now, more than ever.

"Come on love," he said quietly, "don't fancy being beaten up again."

He'd never fought over a woman before and now it seemed that's all he was doing. As he put Dru in the car, his mind drifted to his encounter with Buffy. The light to Drusilla's dark, he thought, and he wondered how her date with Xander was going.


------------------




"Okay, when I say now, I want you to lift the clutch to the biting point, accelerate just a bit, then push the clutch back down. Got it?"

Buffy stuck her head out of the window. "What was that bit after the clutch?"

"Lift the clutch until it bites." Xander braced his arms on the back of the car. "Gonna start pushing, now." He gave a great heave and nothing happened. "Buffy, are you braking?"

"Oops, sorry. I'm not used to three pedals." She suddenly noticed that the hand-brake was on and she surreptitiously released it. "Think I've found the problem. Want to try again?"

Xander gave a one, two, three and pushed for all he was worth, the car rolled forward, kangarooed several times and then shuddered to a halt.

"Buffy, you've got to accelerate once it starts moving, and dip the clutch, or it will stall."

She opened the door and got out of the car. Another pair of laddered stockings, and she was sure she'd stepped in something disgusting back there. "Perhaps if I pushed?" She walked to the back of the car. "It's only little. I'm sorry Xander, I just don't understand what I'm supposed to be doing."

"No way Buffy." He smoothed back the floppy lock of hair from his forehead and gave the car a kick. "I'm really sorry about this. She does this sometimes. Stops for no good reason. Perhaps I should call Spike?"

"No. Please, not Spike." This was embarrassing enough for Xander. She certainly didn't want Spike to witness it. "Perhaps we can get help." She looked down the deserted country lane which was supposed to have been leading to a cosy country pub. "Was that a farm back there?"

Xander looked back. "May have been. Look, let's have one more try. Hop in Buffy, you can do it."

Buffy climbed back in and Xander pushed. She gave a shriek as the car suddenly veered to the left, "Xander!"

She heard him shout something extremely rude as the left side of the car gently sank into the muddy ditch.


------------------------




If his car had been a woman, or a man for that matter, Xander would have strangled it. It wasn't the most reliable car in the world, but why now? This date couldn't get any worse. First Buffy had mistaken him for a delivery boy, then he'd realised that jeans and sweatshirt were not what you wore on a date with this kind of girl. She'd looked a million dollars when she'd opened that door, and she had to be the scariest driver in the world. He'd never seen anyone make such a mess of bump-starting a car before. She couldn't even drive in a straight line.

He ran to the car and opened the door. "Buffy, are you all right?" She had her head in her hands and was shaking. "Oh no, Buffy," he put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't cry, there's no damage."

She looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes, but she wasn't crying. She was laughing hysterically.

Xander didn't know what to do. "And this is funny, why?"

She banged her hands on the steering wheel, accidentally catching the horn and making them both jump. That started her off again. Be, because it's," the laughter overtook her again. "Everything about this is funny, don't you see? Me dressed like this, me sinking your car in a pond. I'm like a walking sit-com." This time she did look close to tears.

"No, no, Buffy." Xander offered her his hand and pulled her out of the car. "It's me, I'm the walking sit-com. These things, they happen to me. And boy, do they happen to me."

The car gave a lurch and sank down a little more. They both stared at it and this time Xander started the laughing, and by the time they stopped they were both completely hysterical.


------------------------------




"So, what you kids been up to then?" The farmer turned, and winked conspiratorially at Xander. "Bit o' the old 'if it's rocking, don't come a knocking' eh?"

Buffy gave Xander a puzzled look. She didn't understand a word the old farmer was saying. He had a thick country brogue which made it worse and any minute now she was going to start laughing again, which would be terribly rude. He had been kind though. They were bumping along on the back of his old tractor towards Xander's mini, and hopefully, between them, they would be able to get it going again. Xander looked pretty shell-shocked, and Buffy really felt for him. She leaned over and touched him on the arm. "I think we could be really good friends Xander." His face fell, "No, don't look at me like that. I haven't made many since I got here and me and you, well, we laugh at the same things."

"Like my car. "

"Yeah." She stifled a giggle. "Never seen anything like that one. I'd like to see that country pub though. It sounded kinda neat. Gotta do the whole Olde Englishe thing while I'm here. What do you say?"

He covered his face and rubbed his eyes. When he looked at her, he hadn't quite managed to disguise his disappointment. "Okay Buffy, you got a date. A friendly, date, thing." He brightened, "Hey, maybe we can invite Spike and Dru along."

"Spike and who?" The words stuck in her throat. Spike did have a girlfriend.

"Dru." Xander tapped the farmer on the shoulder as they approached the stranded car. "My sister."

Chapter Six

By the end of his date with Buffy, Xander was left with the comforting feeling that nothing else in his life could possibly be as embarrassing as what he'd just experienced. When they'd finally towed the car out of the ditch, it still wouldn't start, so the farmer had taken them back to his house to wait for roadside recovery. The farmer' s mother had immediately insisted that they stay for supper, declaring that Buffy was too thin and needed feeding up. They were then treated to an hour of holiday videos before, mercifully, the AA man had turned up and loaded the mini onto his truck. There was no time for any fancy goodbyes as they dropped Buffy off at her house and, although she'd declared the evening a good laugh, Xander was convinced that she'd never want to speak to him again. He'd crawled into his bed wondering how he could have ever thought a girl like Bufffy would have gone for a guy like him.

-------------------------------

"And the funny thing is," Xander propped his feet up on Spike's couch, "by the end of the evening I was relieved that she didn't want to go out with me."

Spike threw him a beer and sat down opposite him. "So, it didn't go well then?"

"Bloody disaster, mate." He flicked the television remote control. "Match is about to start."

"That's it?" Spike couldn't believe it. "A few days ago you wanted to marry her, and now all you're worried about is Manchester United?"

"Look, I'm trying to disguise an embarrassment the size of Brazil here. You know, with the cool behaviour. No need to keep reminding me how wonderful my love-life is."

"That's what friends are for," Spike saluted him with his beer bottle. He felt sorry for Xander, but he wasn't entirely surprised at how things had turned out. Worse than that, he felt strangely relieved that Xander and Buffy wouldn't be dating after all.

"She's a nice girl and all," Xander looked sad for a moment, "a really nice girl, but kinda scary, you know?"

"Yeah, I've been in a car with her."

"No, I mean, when she opened the door, she was so, so," he searched for the right word," groomed. That's it. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect house. I mean, look at me, Spike. She was expecting a five star restaurant last night, and all she got was steak and kidney pie and a randy farmer. I practically had to fight him off her."

"You and me both mate." Spike touched his injured eye. "Guess she's the kind of girl that men want to shag."

"Yeah, you keep saying that."

"Do I?"

They both sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. Spike tried to concentrate on the game, but his thoughts kept drifting to Buffy. He could just imagine her expression when she'd driven the mini into the ditch. She had the helpless female act down, and god help him if he hadn't fallen for it. The pain over his eye attested to that.

"So, what did you think of that redhead she was with the other night?"

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Xander I am not..."

"Oh, go on Spike," Xander reached for his beer bottle, "what are friends for?"

-----------------------------------

Buffy handed Willow her plate, and sat down at the table with her. "And then the farmer kept trying to pinch my bottom, right in front of poor Xander. I felt so sorry for him. Xander, not the farmer."

"So, you won't be seeing him again?" Willow picked up her knife and fork and stared at the food. "I thought he was kinda cute. From what I saw of him. Which wasn't very much at all." She dug into the food. "Nice steak."

"Willow. Are you having the hots for my date?"

Willow felt herself going red. She really wished her colouring didn't betray her emotions quite so much. "No Buffy, I just thought he looked nice, that's all."

"Oh, Will," Buffy put her fork down, "I'm only teasing. He is nice, and it's okay, really it is. Xander and I are going to be friends, but that's all."

Willow felt herself relax as she breathed a little sigh of relief. She didn't want to be jealous of Buffy or encroach on her boyfriends, but she shouldn't be feeling so pleased that the date didn't work out.

"So, we need a plan."

Oh dear, Buffy had the same look on her face that she'd had when she'd made her go into that rude underwear shop. Willow got the feeling that she was about to be roped in again.

"To get you and Xander together."

Willow went a bright scarlet this time. "Oh no, Buffy I couldn' t, I'm not good with boys." She pointed to her face. "Look at me, and this is only thinking about him."

But Buffy was obviously way ahead on her plan. "I've got it, we' ll have a small gathering here. Maybe videos, and I could just happen to have to make an urgent, and very long phone call home, while you and Xander get to know each other better."

"You're not going to leave me alone with him, are you? What if he doesn't like me?"

"What, after the Buffy makeover? He'll be your slave."

Willow choked as a piece of steak went down the wrong way. "No, no makeovers. I'm coming as Willow, if I'm coming at all. Hey, you could invite Spike." She saw Buffy's face fall. "Sorry, are you really mad at him for what he did?"

Buffy shook her head. "Yes, and no. And it's my own fault really, he didn't tell any lies. I just jumped to the wrong conclusion. Wishful thinking, I suppose." She took a sip of her wine. "He' s practically engaged to Xander's sister."

"Oh." Willow could see that Buffy was trying to put on a brave face. "Shame. You really liked him didn't you?"

"Yeah. Never felt anything like it Will." She pushed her plate away, leaving her food practically untouched. "Can't have him though. Let's just skip to the chocolate shall we?"

----------------------------------

He looked so cute in his glasses. Buffy ducked down behind the enormous volume she was pretending to read, and picked up her pen. Come on Buffy, Porphyro and Madeline, concentrate! But how could she concentrate with Spike sitting just a few feet away? He was chewing the end of his pen as he leafed through a book, then he threw it down on the table, leaned back and stretched. 'Umm,' she thought, 'the blue shirt suited him. Made a change from the black. Not that black didn't suit him. In fact he'd probably look good in a bin-bag.' This wasn't good, she was turning into a stalker. She drew a heart on the empty page and then scribbled it out. Half an hour of lurking and she still hadn't plucked up the courage to talk to him. Just because he had a girlfriend didn' t mean that she couldn't, did it? She had the perfect excuse, needed to find out about his cut. If it was healing properly, that sort of thing. She'd been going over and over it in her head. 'So, how are things then? How's your head? Your cut? Your girlfriend?' She took another peek.

"Buffy?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Heck, he was right behind her.

"Thought it was you." Spike flicked over the book she was hiding behind. "Latin? I'm impressed."

"Well, you know…" she hadn't even realised what she'd grabbed off the shelf, and how had he got there so fast? "Exercising the old grey cells." Buffy snapped the book closed, causing a puff of air to scatter her notes. She pushed her chair back and stood up but Spike got there first.

"Let me." He crouched down and gathered up the papers. "The Eve of St Agnes , eh? What's your favourite bit then?"

"Meantime, across the moors, had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire for Madeline." Buffy said without hesitation. "It's just so . . . passionate." She gazed up at Spike, her eyes shining. "Like he just can't help himself."

He nodded in agreement. "Daft prat's got the hots for her all right."

"And that bit at the end," Buffy closed her eyes and sighed. "And they are gone: aye, ages long ago. These lovers fled away into the storm." She shivered slightly, and shook her head, glancing away self-consciously. "Sorry, that bit always gives me goose-bumps."

"Don't apologise," his eyes softened, "I enjoyed that. Are you always this responsive?"

"What?" Buffy's head snapped up.

"Er, to poetry." Spike stuck both hands in his pockets. "You looked pretty into it then."

"I don't know," Buffy gathered up her things and stuffed them in her bag. "Sometimes I wish I could be Madeline, disappearing into the night, braving the storm. Taking the big chance." She slung her bag over her shoulder and didn't look at him. "I never will though."

"Why not?" Spike sat down on the corner of the table. "What's stopping you?"

"Life, everything. You must have seen me the other night. Making the big fool of myself. Couldn't even do that right." She suddenly remembered what she was going to say to him. "How's your head by the way?"

"Good."

"Did I thank you for that?"

"Don't rightly remember."

"How's Xander?"

"He'll get over it."

"Good. I like him, he's nice. Would you like to have coffee?" There, she'd said it. Without stuttering or mixing up the words. She waited for his answer.

"Sounds good." He stood up. "But only if you read me some more poetry."

"Only if you promise me something first. Do you need your books?"

"No, I'm coming back." They walked to the door and Spike opened it for her. "So, what would that be? I'm more than willing to help with any of those assignments."

"No, it's not that, but thanks. It's about Xander...and my friend Willow."

"Willow? The redhead??"

"You saw her, in the club?"

"Yeah, with the scary heels."

"She's not usually like that."

He chuckled, "Kinda guessed that."

Well, she thinks Xander's cute, so I'm having this thing on Friday. At my house."

"And you want me to invite Xander?"

"And you can come too. And Drusilla, of course." There, she was being very mature about it all. She could cope with seeing Spike and Drusilla together, couldn't she?

"Oh," he hesitated at the mentioned of Drusilla's name, "she's not very..."

"It's just a casual thing." She didn't want to sound too eager.

"No biggie. Bring your favourite video."

"I'll ask her."

"Good." Buffy had to admit she was curious about Drusilla. And, if she was going to be friends with Spike, she would have to meet her sometime.

She studied him surreptitiously as they walked along the corridor.. He was beautiful. She hadn't realised that men could be. He had a lithe grace.. Power and raw sensuality all mingled together. She was just so drawn to him. He made her smile, he made her blush, he made her feel. And that was going to be one heck of a sexy scar over his eye. God, she was a love-struck jerk. And Drusilla was the luckiest woman alive.

---------------------------------

On the way to the canteen, Spike stopped for a moment. "Wait up Buffy, just got to check something."

He walked over to the English Department notice board and scanned the flyers and announcements. There it was. A Weekend with Wordsworth. Venue, Carlington Manor, Lake District. Strongly recommended for course 47E and 37E. Any questions see Prof. Hartington or William Giles (English Dept)

He ran a finger down the list of names. She'd signed.

Chapter Seven

Buffy had no luck whatsoever in persuading Willow to have a makeover. In fact, by the end of the week, Willow had gotten herself so worked up about the whole thing that she turned up at Buffy's house wearing her oldest jeans and baggiest sweatshirt.

"You said casual, right?" She avoided Buffy's disappointed look. "And these are comfy, and when I'm comfy, I'm more relaxed. Look, Steel Magnolias." She held up the video she'd borrowed for the night.

"You look adorable Will." Buffy didn't sound very convinced.

Willow pulled her sweatshirt down, stretching it even more. "Don' t be mad Buffy. I know you're only trying to help but, well, I just want to be Willow."

"Oh dear," Buffy looked contrite, "there I go again, always trying to organise everyone's life. Just be you, Willow. You're fine just as you are. Maybe If I stopped trying so hard I'd have more luck in, well you know."

Willow looked at her video, "Maybe this wasn't the best choice for tonight. What have you got?"

"Ghost." They both burst out laughing. "And lots of tissues." Buffy looked down at her outfit. "There's the doorbell. Let him in Will, I think I might just go upstairs and change." She raced up the stairs, pulling at her blouse buttons as she went. "Drinks are in the kitchen."

Willow stared at the door. Let Xander in. How did she do that? Turn the door handle, and open the door, but first stop shaking. The bell rang again. Okay, one, two three. She opened the door and there he was. And he looked amazing.

He was wearing a pair of neatly pressed Chinos, a shirt and a tie. He was actually wearing a tie, and what had he done to his hair? Looked like it had gel in it. Willow stared at the package that was Xander and he stared back and then they both looked down at themselves and said, "Oh!"

-----------------------

Buffy slipped out of her skirt and reached for her sweatpants. She could do dressing-down. She could. Never mind that they were designer sweatpants. Willow was right. This was a fun evening around the television with friends, not a reception with the queen of England. She had to learn to let go a little. To stop trying so hard all the time. She opened a drawer and took out a big white t-shirt, which she would usually wear for working out. Tonight she would be comfy, after all, who was she trying to impress? If Spike turned up, he'd be with Drusilla anyway. He wouldn't be looking at her. She looked doubtfully at herself in the mirror and fluffed up her hair. This was a new look for her yet again, she thought. Usually she would rather die than appear in front of anyone without spending at least an hour in the bathroom, and then trying on every single outfit in her closet. She took a tissue and started to scrub at her lipstick but then she stopped and grabbed the lipstick and re-applied it. Not ready to go that far.

When she got downstairs, Xander and Willow were sitting on opposite sides of the room, both staring fixedly at their feet. Xander had a beer bottle in his hand and goodness, what was he wearing? He looked good, though, even if he was a little overdressed. She waved cheerfully at him. "Hi Xander, glad you could come. I see you' ve met Willow." She put a big emphasis on the word Willow.

He jumped at the sound of her voice and she noticed the look of dismay on his face when he realised how she was dressed. "Who? Oh. Yes." He took a big gulp of his beer.

Buffy sat herself down next to Willow. "So, what did you bring?"

"What?" Xander pulled at his tie.

"DVD." Buffy pointed to the box beside him on the couch. "What've you got for us?"

"Night -of-the-Living-Dead."

"Oh, my favourite," Willow piped up, then looked down at her feet again. "Well, one of..."

"Really?" Xander managed something approaching a smile. "Mine too, you like horror then?"

"Love it. I like to get really scared, then go to bed and hide under the blankets."

"Yeah? When I was a kid I'd pretend I was in a tent..."

"And you'd have a flashlight?"

"And I'd shine it on my face..."

They both lapsed into silence again, but Buffy hadn't failed to notice the buzz of excitement that had passed between them. Willow a horror freak, who'd have guessed it? Well, that was a good start.

The doorbell rang and they all jumped together. Boy, things were tense tonight. Buffy shot out of the chair. "That'll be Spike and Dru Willow, why don't you check out Xander's DVD or something?" She motioned towards Xander as the doorbell rang again. "I'll go let them in."

Buffy stopped for a moment in the hallway and gathered her wits.. Why was she so nervous at the thought of meeting Dru? Would Drusilla be beautiful? Of course she would. But so what, why should that bother her? She knew very well why. She pasted a smile on her face as she reached for the door. How on earth was she going to handle seeing Spike in the arms of another woman?

-----------------------------

Spike pulled the video out of his pocket. Bloody Drusilla. They' d been here once already. She'd been up for it right until the last moment, and then had decided that she wanted to go to the pub instead. He'd tried his best to persuade her, but then she'd accused him of not wanting her any more, or some such nonsense and jumped out of the car. He'd tried to follow her, but she'd just laughed at him, and he'd lost it. Told her to go. And she'd gone. So now he stood on Buffy's doorstep, holding a copy of Dracula has Risen from the Grave and feeling utterly miserable. Frustration at his inability to make Dru love him the way she used to, guilt at the way he was looking forward to seeing Buffy again, anger at himself for being love's bitch - he was feeling it all at the moment. And sorry for himself. It wasn't often he indulged that one, but tonight he felt like a little boy who'd just been told that Christmas had been cancelled. He knew he was getting near to the end with Drusilla, but he couldn't cut himself free from her right now without seeming like the world's worst, biggest...

The door opened and there was Buffy, smiling at him. Her expression changed to one of mild concern as she seemed to pick up on the emotions written in his face.

"No Dru?"

He shook his head. "Brought a video."

"Good." Her face still held a questioning look. "Come in Spike."

He stepped inside, avoiding her gaze as he shrugged out of his coat. "Hope you like horror."

She picked up the video, "Dracula? Nice one. You okay Spike?"

He threw his coat into the closet. "Yep, right as rain. I see Xan's here, how are he and Red getting on?"

"I'm working on it. Beer?"

"Sounds good. Shall I?" He pointed to the kitchen.

"No, you go through, I'll get it."

He watched her disappear into the kitchen. Cute get-up. Sexy, and dangerous. He shouldn't have come. He was feeling vulnerable and needy, and Buffy was the last person he trusted himself to be around. It wasn't fair to any of them, not him, not Dru and definitely not Buffy. This had major hurt, all round, written all over it.

He took the beer she'd fetched for him and followed her into the television room. Why was life so bloody complicated?

-----------------------------

Buffy was pleased to see that Willow and Xander were at least on the same couch now, even if they were both still staring at their shoes, but she was worried about Spike. He'd looked terrible, almost close to tears when she'd opened the door. No sign of Drusilla. It was obvious that something had happened but he didn't look as if he wanted to talk about it, hadn't offered any explanations. Xander had mouthed something at him when he'd seen Spike was alone, but Spike had just shaken his head. Still, she was glad he'd made it, and she was secretly relieved that she didn't have to meet Dru just yet.

"Okay, horror or weepie?"

"Horror." The three of them spoke in unison. Willow picked up Night of the Living Dead. "This one?"

Xander flashed her a look of approval, and Spike shrugged his shoulders, "Sounds good to me."

"Okay then." Buffy popped the disc in the player, then padded back to the couch and sat next to Spike, tucking her feet up underneath her. He leaned back, but didn't look very relaxed at all. Waves of tension rolled off him and her heart went out to him. The butterfly bandages were gone, leaving him with an angry looking red slash over his eye. She wondered if Dru had taken them off for him. She hoped he was remembering to put antiseptic cream on it. He didn't want to catch an infection, did he? What he needed was a good shoulder massage, to loosen the kinks and get those knots out. With some wonderfully exotic massage oil. She indulged in her fantasy for a few more moments until she realised that since the film had started she hadn't seen any of it. How on earth was she going to concentrate with him stretched out so invitingly beside her?

----------------------------

Willow hadn't been exactly telling the truth when she'd declared her love of horror movies. It had seemed like a good way to engage Xander in conversation, but now she was beginning to feel seriously freaked. She was never going to sleep tonight, she thought, jumping violently as something surprising happened on the screen.

Xander chuckled and leaned close. "You'll love this bit."

"Will I? Yikes," she jumped again. "Umm, sorry about that." She gave everyone an apologetic look. "Wasn't expecting that. O-mi-god, what's he doing?"

-------------------------

It turned out that nobody but Xander actually watched much of the film at all. Buffy spent the whole time giving Spike a mental back rub, imagining the feel of his muscles moving under her oil-slickened hands, happily lost in her little fantasy. Spike meanwhile, spent the entire film re-living the bust-up he'd had with Dru, wondering what there was left to say to her, and trying not to notice the heady perfume Buffy was wearing. Willow ended up with a cushion over her face, peeking out occasionally but mostly secretly watching Xander. She wanted to take his tie off. Slowly, like she'd seen a woman do in a film once, but the thought of actually doing it both horrified and excited her at the same time. She'd have to sit on his lap, astride him, so she could look him in the eye. Perhaps she could pull it off with her teeth. Erk, where did that come from? She'd never have the courage to do that, would she?

---------------

As the credits rolled, Buffy jumped up and grabbed Spike's hand. "Come on Spike, why don't you help me fix us something to eat?"

He was a little slow on the uptake, I'm not really hungry, oh!" He finally seemed to realise why she was rolling her eyes towards Willow and Xander in such a strange fashion, and allowed himself to be pulled up. "Right, I'm starving."

Willow was halfway to her feet as well. "I can help you Buffy."

"Got all the help I need." Buffy frantically motioned her to sit back down. "We might be a while, but I'm sure Xander will look after you, won't you?" She nodded at Xander who was having a lazy stretch. The film and several beers seemed to have put him in a very good mood, but he still wasn't really getting it. He flashed Willow a friendly grin and then picked up Spike's video, which was on the end table, and proceeded to read the back cover.

Buffy pulled Spike out of the room, frustrated beyond belief. "What the hell's it gonna take to get those two together?" She noticed Spike was smiling for the first time that evening.

"Bossy thing, aren't you?" He looked down at her hand, which was still entwined in his, and let it go. "You can't just throw them together and expect them to, well you know."

"But they like each other, I know it." She took another discrete peek round the door. Still no progress. "Willow likes Xander anyway."

"And I'm pretty sure Xander could go for Willow." He leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. "Of course he's only just got over you."

He was looking at her through half closed eyes and she couldn't really tell what he was thinking. "That's not fair, Spike. I never did anything to lead him on."

"You didn't see you in that club."

She looked down and inspected her fingernails. "That wasn't the real me."

"Is this the real you then?" He nodded towards her outfit.

"No, this is actually workout Buffy."

"What, like Workout Barbie?" That earned him a shove. "Ow."

"Never mind me. What are we going to do about those two in there?"

"Oh for heaven's sake." Spike opened the door. "Xan, need a word with you."

Xander looked up, perplexed, then got up and came to the door.

Spike pulled him out of the room and closed the door. "Okay, listen up. The nice lady in there. Major hots for you. You're in man." He spun the very surprised-looking Xander around. "We won't be disturbing you any time soon, will we Buffy?"

"No, She really likes you Xander. She's just a bit shy that's all."

With that, Spike opened the door, and shoved Xander back into the room.

He turned to Buffy. "Okay, that's sorted. Now, we just need to amuse ourselves for the next hour or so." Got any suggestions?

Buffy caught the hint of a smirk on his lips. Was he flirting with her, because she could play this game too? "I play a mean game of snap. "

He laughed out loud at that one. "Don't think I could stand the suspense right now, love. You'd beat me hands down."

"Yeah," Buffy beckoned him to follow her into the kitchen, "I noticed you were a bit tense. Coffee?."

"Love one, and yeah, that's a bit of an understatement at the moment." Spike pulled out a chair and turned it round, sitting astride it. "Got a few problems."

Buffy busied herself with the coffee making, not wanting to distract him now he was opening up. "Oh yeah, with the PhD and all?"

"No, that's going okay, more personal."

"What, family, that sort of stuff," Buffy spooned the coffee into the filter, "because my dad drives me mad sometimes. Don't get me wrong I love him to bits, but you know?"

"Yeah, know exactly, but this, it's out of my control. Can we talk about something else?" Spike folded his arms across the back of the chair. How are you finding England?

"Cold." She flipped the switch on the coffee maker, and sat herself down at the kitchen table. "You know, after California. But it' s really quaint, the bit's I've seen anyway."

He leaned his chin on his hands. "Try and see some of the real stuff while you're here, it's not all about Shakespeare and singing shortbread tins y'know."

"And Americans aren't all about big cars and guns."

He grinned back at her, "nice one, you got some brains inside that blondie head of yours."

"Why you," Buffy knew he was only joking, but she wasn't about to let it go. She picked up a wet dishtowel and threw it at him, "have you looked in the mirror lately?"

Spike intercepted the dishtowel and bunched it in his hand. "That' s no way to treat a guest, Summers." He jumped up and came towards her, brandishing it.

Buffy felt a moment of pure panic before she shot out of her chair and made for the kitchen door. He got there first and blocked it, waving the dishtowel menacingly at her. "Now what shall I do with this?"

Boy, he could do 'evil grin' when he wanted to. She shrieked and looked around, but there was nowhere else to run so she charged at him, hoping to duck under his arm, but he was too fast for her. His arm snaked out and caught her, pulling her tight against him and he proceeded to stuff the wet dish towel down the back of her tee shirt. Her frantic struggles and squeals only made him pull her in tighter.

"Nobody attacks William Giles and gets away with it, ouch," he recoiled as Buffy pushed him into the wall.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and shot out of the kitchen, pulling at the dishtowel as she went. Which way? Mustn't disturb Willow and Xander. He was after her. The lounge, she ran inside and tried to push the door closed, but he already had his arm round it. She didn't want to hurt him, so she let go and ran behind the couch, holding up the dishtowel. "I'm not - afraid - to - use - this Spike," she was hysterical now, her breath coming in short pants and she almost couldn't get the sentence out.

He cocked his head at her as he stalked slowly towards her. "Oh, I'm really, really scared."

Buffy's heart went into overdrive. Nowhere to run. She threw the weapon, gave another very girly shriek, and ran to one end of the couch.

He fended off the dishtowel and kept coming. "Gonna get you Summers," he taunted, "you can't escape."

"No, Spike," Buffy made another attempt for the door, but he threw himself at her, bringing them both down and knocking the breath out of her as he landed on top of her.

-----------------------------

Spike hadn't intended to squash her. She ended up beneath him sucking in mouthfuls of air, her hair tangled all over her face, his full weight on her. He rolled over onto his back, taking her with him, so that she was on top, and held on to her as they both struggled to regain some composure. "They were both still on the verge of hysterical laughter, which was pretty difficult when there was no breath to laugh with, and they lay there, chests heaving, doing nothing but try to breath and not laugh for a few moments. Eventually he found enough breath to speak. "Are you okay Buffy?"

She muttered something against his chest and lifted her head, "William Giles?"

He smoothed the hair away from her face. "That's me, you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," her face was still flushed from her exertions, her eyes luminous. "You?"

Was he okay? He had a beautiful, sexy, woman lying on top of him, her soft curves moulding themselves to his body, her scent all around him. And not just any beautiful woman. This was Buffy, who he' d been having secret fantasies about ever since the night she'd fixed his head for him. The forbidden fruit he wasn't supposed to have, but wanted desperately.

He knew he could let her go any time now, there was no reason to keep holding on to her, stroking her hair, other than he was thoroughly enjoying it, and didn't want to stop. Her t-shirt was bunched in his hand as it rested against her back, his other hand was sliding behind her head, threading itself into the hair at the back of her neck. She couldn't fail to feel the reaction he was having to her nearness.

As he shifted beneath her, her eyes widened in realisation, and she went very still. "William?" Her voice was like a soft caress, asking him an age- old question.

He pushed his hand further into her hair, and slowly brought her face down to his. "Yes?" He whispered it against her mouth, as he brushed his lips to hers, and surrendered himself to the inevitable.

Chapter 8:

Buffy felt herself melting into him. The rest of the world faded into soft focus as she settled into the rhythm of the kiss. Nothing else mattered but the feel of his lips slowly sliding against hers, one hand caressing the bare skin of her back, the other urging her closer to him. He was warm, and hard as she settled against him, and kissed him back. It was the kind of kiss that could have gone on forever, sensual and lingering. A slow, burning kiss that spoke not only of lust but something else. ,This feels so right was about the only coherent thought that Buffy was capable of, as his mouth worked its magic against hers. She tried to deepen it, but he seemed in no hurry to go any faster. His hand made its way to her bottom and he pulled her in against him, bending his knee to accommodate her, as she arched instinctively against him.

He groaned and the sound made her skin tingle. She was on fire for him, her whole body flooded with desire. For him. She'd thought about this, wondered how it would feel, and it was better than anything she could ever have imagined. She'd never been kissed like this before. It was maddening, frustrating and incredibly erotic all at the same time. But she could feel he was holding back, and she needed more.


------------------


Spike didn't dare deepen the kiss. He could feel Buffy's frustration as she moved restlessly against him, her tongue sliding along his lips, her fingers pulling at his hair, but this wasn't the time, or the place, for the things he wanted to do to her. For her. He hadn't forgotten that Xander and Willow were in the other room, but he was still sliding his hand down Buffy's back, pulling her down to him, their legs tangling together. He heard himself groan as she pushed herself against him. Gotta calm down. He slid both hands down to her bottom and held her still.

She broke the kiss and lifted her head, drawing in a shaky breath. "What is it Spike?" Concern clouded her features. "Don't you want to...?"

He silenced her with another kiss, harder and more demanding this time and she responded in kind, then he broke abruptly away. "Did that feel like I don't want to do this?"

She sat back so that she was kneeling astride him and touched her fingers to her mouth. "So why did you? It's Drusilla, isn't it?" She looked away. "I understand."

She made to get up, but Spike caught her wrist and pulled her back. "Look at me Buffy. Huh?" She wasn't going to, so he said it anyway. "Yes, it's Drusilla, but it's complicated. I want you Buffy, I want you so much, you can't imagine."

She lifted her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Me too." She leaned her forehead against his chest, and picked at one of the buttons on his shirt, "But we can't, can we? This is wrong, isn't it?"

He twisted a strand of golden hair, and watched as it ran through his fingers. "I don't know, Buffy. I don't seem to know right from wrong any more. I only know that I'm thinking about you all the time, even when I'm with Dru. Thinking about all the things I want us to do together. Mostly involving stockings." She gave a small laugh at that, and he felt her arm slip around his back and give him a small squeeze. "She's on drugs you know, and I just don't want to deal with it any more. Big shit that I am."

Spike rested his cheek on Buffy's head. "She's just not the same girl I remember. It's all but finished Buffy, this isn't your fault. I couldn't have stopped this if I tried. And someone's got to prevent you from killing yourself in that car of yours."


--------------------------


Buffy pressed herself against his chest, listening to the slow thump of his heart, and blinked back the tears. In the heat of the kiss she'd forgotten all about Drusilla. She had no business kissing someone else's boyfriend, no matter how troubled the relationship. But a selfish part of her wanted Spike. If what he said about her was true, then it was okay wasn't it? Only it wasn't.

"What are we going to do Spike?" She still couldn't look at him, because if she did, she would want to kiss him again. Her lips were still tingling with the memory of that last meeting, and aching for more just like it.

"Don't rightly know. I'll have to talk to her, I guess," He was still fiddling with her hair, "don't know how she'll take it, she's a bit fragile right now."

"Do you still love her?"

"Don't know that either. We don't make each other happy any more and god- knows," his voice broke as he spoke, "I deserve some happiness in my life."

He sounded angry, and he squeezed her so hard that she almost couldn't breath. She wriggled free and brought a hand to his cheek, feeling guilty that she'd abandoned herself so freely to the kiss. It wasn't as easy for him as it was for her. She should have realised. "It's okay Spike." Heck, now he was going to cry too. "I'm here Spike, listen to me." He opened his mouth to say something ,but she silenced him with a finger on his lips. "Shh. Let me speak. I want you too, Spike, but I know this is hard for you. I just want you to know that I'll be here for you. Whatever you want Spike," she traced the outline of his lips with her fingers as she spoke. "It's your call." She could still hear the little voice inside her head, cautioning her, but she pushed it aside. She wanted him too much to think beyond the consequences of what they were doing tonight, and now that she had him here in her arms, she just wasn't prepared to give him up that easily.

He was watching her intensely as she spoke to him, she could see he was struggling with some emotion she couldn't read. Her hand continued its exploration, slipping to the back of his neck, gently caressing. She felt him shudder as he rubbed his head against her hand. "Tell me what you want Spike," she whispered in a low, seductive voice she hardly recognised. This was another Buffy she hadn't known existed, like the one in the club. She wasn't going home the same person that came out here just a few weeks ago. Going home... she didn't want to think about that. So little time, and so far away. All the more reason to grab this with both hands. He'd said he deserved happiness, but so did she. She let her hand slip down inside his shirt collar, her thumb skimming lightly across his collar bone. She loved the way his chest moved as he sucked in uneven, ragged breaths and she loved that she was the cause of his breathing difficulties. "Tell me William."

"I want," his voice was a hoarse whisper, "god help me Buffy, I want this." He tightened his arms around her, and reclaimed her mouth with a kiss that was almost scary in its intensity. She grabbed hold of his shoulder to anchor herself, and sighed with relief as he slid his tongue into her mouth at last. This was it. She was dizzy with heat and desire but there was something else. A little feeling of panic, slowly building in intensity, as she realised that she was falling in love with him. She pressed herself against him as hard as she could, not wanting any space between them at all. How could this have happened so fast? And how could she ever let him go?


----------------------------------


Xander couldn't believe his luck. She liked him, and judging by the way she kept staring at the floor, she was more nervous than he was. Don't mess this up Harris, she's cute. He sat himself down next to her, Darned cute. And there was nothing remotely scary about her tonight. He almost hadn't recognised her when he'd arrived. Vamp Willow had been replaced by adorable jeans -and -sweatshirt Willow, and she was sitting right beside him. "So" he clapped his hands together, making her jump. "You like horror then?"

"Not really," she gave him a tenuous smile, "I made that bit up."

"Really?"

"Uh-Huh"

"So you didn't enjoy the film?"

"Nope."

Right, end of that topic. Think Harris. "Uhh, Buffy and Spike said they'd be a while with the food, so what do you wanna do?" Christ that was a stupid thing to say, did it sound like he meant . . . ?

Willow looked at him, her eyes wide. "I w-want to do," she turned to him, and took a deep breath, then she reached up and took hold of his tie. "This." The knot fell away as she untied it for him with shaking fingers, slowly sliding it away and dropping it on the floor. Then she reached up and undid the top button of his shirt.

Xander was almost rigid with shock by the time she'd finished. She'd gone from cute to sexy in a microsecond, and he was ready to explode. This sort of thing happened to him all the time - in his fantasy world - but this, it was happening in real life. What did he do now? She was looking at him with her huge eyes, her hands still on his shirt collar. It was his move, only he couldn't. His mouth didn't seem to want to close, his hands were clamped to his knees, suddenly paralysed. And he was going to burst out of his pants any moment now.


------------------------------


My god, she'd done it. It had taken every inch of courage, and, by the look on his face, had almost given him a heart attack. But she'd done it. And now she understood how Buffy had felt in the club. This feeling of feminine power, it was good. But what happened now? Wasn't this the bit where the man swept you off your feet, and kissed you like there was no tomorrow? Did you do that when you'd only known someone a couple of hours? Come on Xander. He was staring at her with his mouth open, and his hands were holding his knees so tightly they were shaking. Was this good or bad? She hadn't had much experience with men, that was true, but she'd seen films, read books. He had to be more experienced than her, surely?

"Uhh, Xander," she waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance. "This is the part where you sweep me off my feet."

"I do? Where?" He looked around.

"Here silly." She took his chin, surprised at her own boldness, and turned his face to hers. He was so nervous that it actually made her feel confident, and she never felt confident when she was with a man. Did all women have this sexy alter ego somewhere inside, just waiting for the right person to bring it out? She needed to look it up someday, but not now. She'd been dreading this, sure she was going to make a complete mess of it, but she was actually enjoying it, although his apparent lack of response was a bit worrying. She gave him what she hoped was an inviting smile. He wiped his hands on his pants and sort of smiled back at her, squirming uncomfortably, and she looked down to see what was wrong. Oh. Now she knew. He saw her looking and slapped his hands over the front of his trousers, and now, it was his turn to blush.


------------------------------------


Spike gave Buffy his hand, and pulled her up, grimacing as he adjusted his jeans. He was so hard he could hardly walk, and there was only one way this make-out session was going to go if they didn't stop right now. He pulled her towards him and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Coffee's ready I think."

She looked back at him with passion-clouded eyes. "Coffee, what's that?" She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him again, and for a few moments he was lost as she did wonderful things to his mouth. She gave him a wicked grin as she pulled away. "D'you like that, Spike?"

"Yeah, I like, but if you don't stop, you wicked woman, I'm going to have to throw you over my shoulder and take you upstairs." He turned towards the door, "So, coffee?" Walking away took some effort, but it wasn't the right time to go any further. There were things to sort out and Xander, Dru's brother in the next room. God, Dru, what was he going to do about her? It was so easy to get carried away when you were in the moment, and now that he'd taken this first step with Buffy, there was no going back. He had to tell Dru, and it was going to hurt her like hell, maybe even cost him his friendship with Xander. He felt Buffy's hand creep into his as they walked into the kitchen and he gave it a squeeze. Was their happiness worth all the pain this was going to cause?

Chapter 9:

Buffy just wanted to keep touching him. This was the first time she'd gone so head over heels for anyone, and she was on such a high from what had just happened that she almost couldn't pour the coffee straight. She had to keep looking at him to make sure he wasn't going to disappear. He was so darned sexy, sitting there, with his hair all messed up, elbows on the table, chin in his hands, watching her as she pottered around. She wanted to sit on his lap, get him to kiss her again, but some instinct was telling her to back off, just a little. Give him space. He was right, if they were going to do this, and they already had really, then it had to be done right. He owed Drusilla that much.

"So, how do think Xan and Willow are getting on?" She handed him a coffee and sat down opposite him.

"Thanks," he put it down in front of him, and stared into it. "Knowing Xander, they'll be watching the next film by now. He likes to talk big when it comes to women, but they actually terrify him. You wouldn't believe some of the dates he's been on."

"I would actually."

Spike laughed, "Oh yeah, forgot you've been in the love machine."

"The what?"

"The Mini," Spike looked pensive for a moment. "He's a good friend."

"And you think that when he finds out about us, he'll freak?"

"Yeah, I don't know. Maybe." He extended his hand across the table, and covered hers. "What are we doing, Buffy?"

"Being happy." She looked straight at him, her gaze unwavering. "We deserve it, remember?" Her other hand covered his. "And I've never been so sure about anything." Her heart gave a little lurch. "You're not changing your mind are you?"

"God no Buffy. Do you think I'd start this and walk away? But you will be. Come the end of the year, you're back to the States aren't you?"

Buffy didn't know what to say. Yes, she was going home. Everything she knew was there, her dad was waiting for her, her future was waiting for her, and until now it hadn't included this handsome, utterly irresistible man who was sitting opposite her. She didn't want to deal with anything past that right now. "Are you hungry Spike?" She patted his hand, let it go and pushed her chair back. "Because I promised you food."

He seemed relieved at the subject change and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "Yeah, suddenly I'm ravenous."

"You are?" Buffy walked slowly around the table, and stopped in front of him. "Well, we'd better do something about that, hadn't we?"

"Oh yeah?"

She saw him swallow hard as she placed her hands on her hips and leaned towards him. "Chinese or Indian?"

"What?"

"Chinese or Indian? Food." She shimmied past him to the kitchen counter, and picked up the take-away flyers. "Got these through the door. It says they'll deliver."

He was up like a shot, standing behind her, arms around her waist, whispering in her ear. "Gotta better idea."

"Really?" She tried to play it cool, but she couldn't stop the little shiver that ran down her spine as his warm breath tickled her ear.

"Fish and chips."

He made it sound so sexy. "What did you say Spike?" she asked in an innocent tone.

He leaned in even closer so that his lips were touching her ear. "Fish and chips." He finished the words on a kiss. Fish and chips as foreplay, that's a new one, she thought. He gave her earlobe a nibble before taking hold of her hand. "Come on, grab a coat and we'll walk out to the chippie. Then you can tick it off your list of things to do while you're in England."

She gave him her best pouty look. "Walk. I'm American, we don't do walking."

"You do now love. Another great British tradition. Do you think we ought to disturb those two in there?"

Buffy thought for a moment. "They might wonder where we've gone. Hang on a minute." She tiptoed out of the kitchen followed by a very amused Spike, and leaned close to the television room door. "Can't hear anything," she whispered. "Do you think they're...?"

"Just call through the door," Spike was whispering, too. "Never known Xan to refuse fish and chips."

Buffy tried a little knock, which was greeted by the sound of a flurry of movements from inside the room. She stifled a giggle. "Going out for fish and chips, do you want some?"

"Yes please." "Okay." Xander and Willow both spoke at once.

"No don't come out, we're going now." She giggled again as Spike started nibbling the back of her neck. "We'll be gone..." she looked at Spike.

"Half an hour," he finished for her. "We'll take the scenic route."

"Okay. Just gotta," she pointed to the bathroom.

He nodded, "I'll get my coat."

Buffy shut the bathroom door and leaned against it. What a night. Incredible didn't begin to cover it. Too good to be true? She banished the thought as soon as it came. And America suddenly seemed like a very long way away indeed.


-------------------------------------


Spike put on his coat, and felt in his pocket for his phone. You have one new message... He put the phone to his ear and listened.

"Hey Spikey, missed you tonight baby. Sorry I was such a bitch, earlier. Don't know what's wrong with me these days. Call me. Please. Love you."

Spike lowered the phone and stared at it. Then he flipped it closed, and pocketed it. Hell, what was he doing? He tried for a bright smile as Buffy came out of the bathroom, but it wouldn't come. First thing tomorrow morning, he'd go and see Dru and sort things out. Only it wasn't going to be that easy, was it? You didn't end a two year relationship just like that, even though it was time.

He watched her slip into her jacket and they stepped outside.

"Oh crap, it's raining." Buffy rushed back into the porch. "I can't walk in the rain - my hair."

"Will get wet, rain does that." He held out his hand. "Come on, it's not far."

Buffy backed up further, and held up her hands. "Sorry, no can do. You've seen workout Buffy, but I'm not ready for you to see frizzy-hair Buffy."

"Women!" He rolled his eyes heavenward, and reached in his pocket. "Okay, okay, stop with the pathetic look, I'll drive us."

Buffy skipped down the steps, brightening considerably. "Shall we take my car?"

"No, we'll go in mine, jump in.

Buffy climbed in beside him. "Sorry about this, always had this thing about the rain. She clicked her seat-belt. I know it's silly, but It's just there. No idea where it came from. "How about you?"

Spike backed the car off the drive. "How about me, what?"

"Phobias, irrational fears of hedgehogs, that sort of thing." She was gently teasing. "There must be something."

"Hospitals." He turned the car onto the main road out of the housing estate.

"Oh, with the cut? But it's pretty normal to be scared of hospitals."

Spike turned the car on to the main road. They had half an hour to kill, so he reckoned they didn't have to go straight to the shop. And just the mention of hospitals was turning his insides to jelly. He shouldn't have said it. "So, what does your dad do? For a living, I mean?"

Buffy looked a bit confused at the abrupt change of subject, but thankfully, she let it go. "Property mainly. Owns a couple of high -rises here and there, your's?"

"Foreign correspondent, for the BBC. Don't see much of him, never did."

"Oh."

They lapsed into silence. Spike sneaked little glances at Buffy as he drove, and he found himself going all warm and fuzzy inside. There was so much he didn't know about her, yet he felt so comfortable with her. And any minute now, he was going to start spouting poetry. Only one place to go when he felt like this. He indicated right, instead of left and headed out of town.


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Buffy suspected they weren't going straight to the chip shop, in fact they'd already passed two. She snuggled back into her seat and let him take her. She even resisted the urge to ask him where they were going, and that wasn't like her at all. Normally she'd want to be in charge, to know all the details, so she could wear the right clothes, serve the right wine, that sort of thing. It was a nice feeling, being with someone you trusted enough to let them take over. After a few minutes the houses thinned out, and they were in the countryside.

Spike turned the car into a narrow country lane. "Not going to ask where we're going then?"

"Nope." Buffy pushed in the tape that was sticking out of the machine and jumped as the unfamiliar, and very loud music blared out.

"I might be kidnapping you."

"That'd be nice." Buffy hugged herself. That would be very nice.

The car stopped. "Okay, we're here." He reached into the glove-box and pulled out a small flashlight, then he swung his door open. "Wanted to show you something."

Buffy opened her door, and looked out in dismay at the still-falling rain. It would be churlish to refuse to go, she really did want to see this whatever-it-was.

Spike looked up and realised what was wrong. "You really that scared of a bit of rain?" He took off his coat and put it over his head. "Here, get under, this'll only take a few minutes, it's over there."

It was a little stone building, sitting in the middle of a field, much like a very small church. Buffy stepped gingerly out of the car, cringing as her trainers sank into the muddy ground. She ducked under his coat. "What is it Spike?"

They ran the few yards to the building, and Spike pushed open the wooden door. "It's an old well-house, supposed to date back to medieval times. Just wait a moment for your eyes to adjust." He pulled the coat off their heads and shrugged back into it. "I love this place."

The door closed behind them and they stood in the cold, dark room in silence. A weak shaft of light was coming in from a hole in the roof, casting the carved stone features lining the walls into strange shadows. Buffy could hear running water coming from somewhere, but she couldn't make out where. She shivered in the damp air and moved in closer to Spike. He opened his coat so she could snuggle up to him. It was a strange feeling. As if time had stopped and they were suddenly in a world all of their own. Just the sound of their breathing, and the hypnotic trickling of the water. She tightened her arms around him and he rested his head on the top of hers. It was exactly what they needed. Time out from the emotional roller coaster they had both been on for the last few hours. Her breathing relaxed as she leaned against him, listening to his steady heartbeat and feeling utterly at peace.

"Thank you Spike."

"Knew you'd like it. I come here when I need a bit of time out. Reckoned we needed that tonight."

She nodded. "Reckon so."

They stood silently for a few more moments, and then he fished the flashlight out of his pocket. "Look at this."

It was the source of the water. A lion's head carved into the stone with water coming out of his mouth and cascading into a stone trough. The stone was well-worn. It all looked very old.

"It's a natural spring. Supposed to have healing properties or something. That's why I only come here at night. Place is heaving during the day." He swung the flashlight round to reveal a shelf covered in little straw dolls. "Corn dollies. Wiccans tend to use this place for stuff."

Buffy was entranced. Nobody had ever taken her anywhere like this before. It was a secret, magical place, and she knew she would remember this night for the rest of her life. She wouldn't have been surprised if fairies had appeared and danced for them.

"Kiss me Spike."

He turned, and leaned towards her. "Always happy to oblige, my fairy princess."

God, he was reading her mind now. She went on tiptoe to greet his mouth with hers and they kissed until they were both breathless with need. His warm hands on her waist, moving slowly upwards until his thumbs were grazing the undersides of her breasts. Hers winding behind his back, sliding against the cool cotton of his shirt. Reluctantly pulling apart as they realised they had to go back to the real world.

As they walked back to the car, her breasts still tingling from his touch, Buffy offered up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever beings protected this place. Whatever happened in the future, she'd always have this to remember him by.

Chapter 10


It was his move. Xander shifted uncomfortably and searched Willow's face. She was smiling, that was good, and there was the leaning, and the puckering. That was a big clue. He'd been here so often, and ballsed it up so many times that he had no idea what women wanted any more. Her sweet rosebud of a mouth hovered invitingly in front of him, her eyes half closed. If only she'd tell him, give him permission. He really wanted to kiss her.

-----------------------

Willow was beginning to feel as if she'd entered a smiling contest. She'd sent out every signal she knew, and he was still sitting there looking terrified. Perhaps she'd scared him with the tie thing?

"Xander?"

"Yes, that's me." His voice came out as a high-pitched squeak. He coughed, and adjusted it to a more manly tone. "Yes?"

"The sweeping off the feet. You can do it any time now."

He looked her up and down. "But you're already off your feet." His laugh was more than a little hysterical. "But you already know that, right? "Oh god..." His voice trailed off. "Help me here."

He was looking at her so appealingly that Willow's heart did a little double take. Before, with the tie thing, it had been just sexual. She'd been curious about how he'd react and surprised at the reaction she'd gotten. But this was an entirely different feeling. In that heartbeat, she'd realised that she could really get to like this guy. And she didn't like seeing him suffer like this. Not when she could put it right.

"Xander, what would you say if I asked you to kiss me?"

"You would?"

He looked so relieved that Willow had to bite back a giggle that was threatening to entirely spoil the moment. She nodded. "Yes, I think I would." She half closed her eyes again and offered him her lips. There was an agonising wait of a split second, before his met hers in a gentle, almost shy touch. It was unbearably sweet, and it felt like coming home. All the memories of previous, teenage kisses, the awkward ones where you banged your teeth together, the slobbery wet ones, the gagging tongue-down-the-throat ones, all faded from memory. And were replaced by this. She leaned in a bit further, increasing the pressure and he did the same. She changed the angle and he adjusted his to fit. He'd actually taken his hands out of his lap and was holding on to her elbows, so she put hers on his waist. It's like a dance she thought, and we both know the steps And she had to breathe.

As she pulled away, Xander tried to follow her, his eyes hazy and unfocussed. He muttered something she didn't catch and pulled her back to him, his arms sliding up her elbows and around her back. His mouth became more demanding as he pushed her back into the sofa, and she shifted to accommodate him. Then he had to breathe. He lifted his head and looked at her, his chest heaving, a ghost of a grin on his lips. She smiled back and his grin became wider.

They were like two schoolkids who had discovered a delicious secret. Xander nodded, his grin becoming goofier by the second and Willow simply said, "yeah." She gave a happy little sigh and pulled him down for another kiss.
---------------------------

"It's been more than half an hour." Buffy looked at her watch as Spike parked the car. "They'll be getting worried."

"No they won't. You staying in the car?"

"What, and miss this cultural experience, no way." Buffy followed Spike out of the car and linked her arm in his.

He gave her arm a quick squeeze and disentangled himself. "Sorry love, gotta be careful for now. They know me in here."

She stuffed her hands in her pockets, feeling suddenly self conscious. "Sorry, didn't think of that."

"Hey, it won't be for long. Just wouldn't be fair for Dru to find out from someone else."

"Maybe I should wait in the car then." Buffy turned to go back, feeling ever so slightly hurt. It was silly really, and he was entirely right. He would be all hers soon enough. She wanted things to be perfect all the time, but this was real life. It was messy and complicated, and quite wonderful all at the same time. His arm reached out to stop her and she suddenly felt ashamed of her little outburst. "It's okay Spike." She patted his hand, focusing on that, not his face. "Go get the food. My treat. Here," she handed him a twenty pound note. "Will this be enough?"

She couldn't tell what he was thinking as he took the money. He simply nodded in understanding and handed her the car keys. She took them and let herself back into the car, still feeling mildly embarrassed about her mis-step. Did this mean that they couldn't be seen together at all until he finished with Dru? Would it be that obvious if they pretended to be just friends? She could never just be Spike's friend, she realised. It would be torture seeing him and not being able to touch him. To sit a few feet away from him and not take him in her arms. The driver's door opened and Spike and the delicious smell of fish and chips entered the car.

"Like your new after shave." She was trying to be jolly as he handed her the carrier bag full of food, but she knew she didn't sound it. "Mmm. This smells good. Can't wait to get back now."

He slammed his door, put the key in the ignition and turned to her, bringing his hand up to the side of her face. "Listen to me Buffy. I was a real thoughtless prat back there. Will you forgive me?"

Buffy leaned her head into his hand. When he looked at her like that, she'd forgive him anything."There's nothing to forgive, Spike, Dru needs to hear it from you. But you can kiss me now, right? Windows all steamed up, no-one can see in."

"You bet." Spike pulled her across the seat, and Buffy let out a shriek as she rolled onto the bag containing the food.

"Oh. No. Now look what you've done." She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle, "How are we going to explain this to Xander and Willow?" She held up the flattened bag and giggled again. "They're going to think we were..."

"I wish." Spike gave her a swift peck on the mouth, started the engine and turned the car for home. "This'll have to be our little secret, just for a while longer."

On the way home, Buffy thought about what she'd nearly said. That big, important step in her life. It was about to happen and it was exciting and just a teeny bit nerve-racking. She desperately wanted the first time to be with Spike, she was sure of that and she knew he would make it special for her. She wasn't that innocent, but she suddenly felt like a naive schoolgirl next to him. The way he'd taken on Angelus, the way he drove, the way he kissed. He did everything so confidently. Like he was used to being in charge. She gazed out into the night as a delicious warmth began to pulse through her. He'd said he was going to throw her over his shoulder and take her upstairs, and she wanted him to. She wanted him to teach her everything he knew.

----------------------------

Right now, Buffy had Spike handcuffed naked to her bed. She was wearing the naughty leather top and the stockings, of course, and she was standing over him while he lay there, helpless and hers to command. She squeezed her legs together and rolled over onto her stomach. That last image had really hit the spot. Perhaps she shouldn't have insisted that everyone stay the night, because she just wanted to go into the next room, where he was, and jump into bed with him. Of course, the fact that Xander was in the same room put somewhat of a damper on things.

They'd all ended up having far too much to drink and no-one was in any state to drive home. Xander and Willow had tried to play it cool, but by the end of the evening it was obvious they were an item. She'd had to make do with a few quick snogs in the kitchen, on the pretext of fetching more drinks, but that had only added to the frustration. She threw back the covers and got out of bed. Her head was swimming a little and she knew she was going to have a monster hang-over if she didn't do something about it. Water. That's what you were supposed to drink. Lots of it. She slipped out of her room and made her way towards the stairs.

---------------------------

Spike lay on his back, one arm thrown across his face, listening to Xander's regular breathing. He was pleased for him. It was about time he had some success in love, and he and Willow had looked so happy. He couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy though. They had nothing to stop them and he had to face Dru tomorrow. It was going to break her heart. No wonder sleep wouldn't come. And having Buffy in the next room wasn't helping.

He heard Xander stir. He let him get half-way out of bed and then he coughed. Xander shot back under the covers, as Spike grinned to himself. He was pleased for him, yeah, but that didn't mean he couldn't have some fun with him. That's what mates were for, right?

"So, you got it on with Red then?"

"What?" Xander was, very obviously, pretending to be half asleep.

"Willow. The two of you, you know, together."

"Yeah. She's great Spike." Xander gave up all pretence of sleeping and sat up. "I just gotta go to the er...take a leak."

"Of course you do." Spike grinned into his pillow. At least someone was going to get to work off their frustration tonight. the lucky bastard

-------------------------

Willow couldn't stop thinking about the film. One particularly gory bit kept repeating itself over and over in her mind, until she couldn't stand it any longer. She wished Xander were here, so she could cuddle up to his manly chest, and feel safe. That's what manly chests were for, she decided. It was a comforting thought, and if he'd been alone in the spare room, she might have considered slipping in, and climbing into bed with him. It had only been an hour since she'd seen him and she was missing him already. That first kiss had been an absolute revelation, but Buffy and Spike had arrived home far too soon. And now someone was moving outside the door, and making their way down the stairs. Once she'd convinced herself that it wasn't an extra from the film, she slid out of bed and peeked round the door.

"Buffy, is that you?" The figure stopped, and turned round.

"Yes," she whispered. "Going down for a drink. Can't you sleep either?"

"No. Wait, I'll come too." Willow grabbed her sweatshirt and put it on over the short nightie that Buffy had lent her, then she tiptoed downstairs after Buffy.

--------------------------------------------

Xander really did need the bathroom, so he went there first. He wondered if Willow would mind if he sneaked into her room- just for a cuddle. And maybe another of those mind-blowing kisses that she was so good at. They couldn't get up to much else with Buffy and Spike around, and even in his drunken state he realised that she wasn't that sort of girl. Sleeping with a guy would be a big commitment for her, and despite her bravado with the tie thing, he knew he needed to go slow. He finished up and made his way to what he hoped was her room. The door was open. Peering in, he saw that she wasn't in her bed. Where the hell was she? He walked back out to the landing and listened. Probably in with Buffy. Girls liked to talk about things, didn't they? Buffy's room was quiet too, but then he noticed the light on downstairs. That's where they were. Missing you already Willow. Forgetting he was clad only in his boxer shorts, he made his way down the stairs.

---------------------------

Buffy poured herself a big drink of water and downed it in one. "Don't want to get a hangover, do you want one Will?"

Willow waved her hand. "Got any fruit juice?"

"Yeah, I got everything." Buffy opened the fridge door and took out a carton. "Get yourself a glass - in there. Then tell me everything."

Willow poured herself a drink. "Don't know what you mean."

"Come on Willow, spill. The U.S.T was rolling off the pair of you in waves when me and Spike got back."

"U.S.T. What's that?"

"Unresolved sexual tension."

Willow took a long swig of her drink. "What, like you and Spike?"

"What?" Don't blush, don't blush "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Buffy, it's okay. Your secret is safe with me. I guess Xander can't know?"

Buffy let out a long breath and flopped down into a chair. "Is it that obvious?"

"Is the pope a Catholic? Yeah, just a little. I guess Xander didn't notice because he was - he was..."

"Aha, so you are together."

"Yes." Willow's face lit up. "Oh, Buffy it's just too wonderful. He sort of fits right into me."

Buffy frowned. "Not sure I'm getting the imagery here." A little light bulb went on in her head. "You didn't?"

"What? No. He's just so," Willow leaned towards her and whispered. "I could really, really, get to like him. You were right Buffy, sometimes you have to just go for what you want."

Buffy was about to answer when she heard a noise at the door. "What's that?"

Willow looked round anxiously, as the door shook. Just like it did in the film.

--------------------------------

Xander stood outside the kitchen door, one hand about to push it open. What was that?
It was Willow's voice. Was she talking about him? She could really get to like him? His chest swelled with manly pride and he felt a primitive urge to rush into the kitchen and carry her off. She really liked him. The way she'd said it. Tonight was all his dreams come true at once. Then Buffy's face peered round, serious at first but breaking out into a huge grin when she saw his state of undress.

"Oh it's you." She turned back into the room. "It's only Xander." Then her face appeared again. He squirmed uncomfortably as Buffy's gaze dropped to his underwear. "You look, umm, cold." She pointed to the coat-closet. "Find yourself something, then come join us. It looks like the party's starting up again."

--------------------------

Spike lay in bed, listening to the goings-on on the landing. First Buffy's door, then Willow's. Xander was in the bathroom, then he was going downstairs. What the hell was happening? He climbed out of bed and pulled on his jeans. Damned if they were starting up the party again without him.

He could see Willow's room was empty. Slowly, he pushed open Buffy's door. The bedside lamp was on, but she wasn't there. He stepped inside, feeling a bit like a pervert as he took in the rumpled bed-linen, her make-up neatly arranged on the dressing table, the discarded underwear on the floor. He was just drunk enough to think it was a good idea, so he slipped inside, picked up her panties and stuffed them into his back pocket. He gave her cuddly pig a wicked grin. "I'll give them back, promise." God, that was a lucky pig, getting to sleep where she did The bed smelled vaguely of her perfume, and he had to fight the urge to climb in and wait for her to return. A poetry book lay open and he raised an eyebrow as he saw what she was reading. Whoa, she was definitely as frustrated as he was if she was reading this sort of thing in bed He looked around and recognised her college bag in the corner. Ripping a scrap of paper from her notebook, he rummaged for a pen. page 42, only with stockings He scribbled on the paper and tucked it inside her book. Then he went downstairs to join the party.

-----------------------------------------

It was three am before anyone went back to bed. For some strange reason, Buffy had a huge collection of board games including Cluedo, the English version of Clue, so they all trooped back into the television room to play. Once he'd got over the shock of seeing Xander wearing a vaguely familiar fur coat, Spike settled himself as closely to Buffy as he could, without arousing suspicions. He found that if he casually leaned one arm on the floor just behind her, he could tickle the base of her spine without anyone seeing that he'd moved his hand. This kept him amused for the rest of the evening, especially as Buffy was struggling to keep a straight face as he stroked her. He got bolder and bolder as he realised that Willow and Xander weren't taking much notice anyway. It was definitely going to be Willow, with Xander, in the bedroom, very soon.

---------------------

He was going to pay for this, Buffy thought as she squirmed and tried not to laugh. She was devilishly ticklish and he was torturing her. So was the fact that he was half-naked and wearing his glasses so he could read the cards. The combination of a shirtless Spike and glasses made an incredibly erotic picture. The intellectual and the sex-bomb, all rolled into one. She imagined him standing, like this, in front of a class of students, book in hand, explaining the finer point of Romantic Poetry. While all the female, and probably some of the male students, swooned and sighed. The would be a popular class! Oh, it was her move.

--------------------

Eventually Willow fell asleep on Xander and he gallantly, if somewhat unsteadily, carried her upstairs to her bed. Then he slipped in beside her and held her close, thanking a god he didn't really believe in for this tremendous gift he'd been given.
------------------------------

As soon as they left the room, Spike pulled Buffy towards him. "Thank god they've gone. Goodnight kiss?"

"Yes please." Buffy's fingers threaded into his hair and held him firmly, possessively. "I thought they'd never go."

He'd only meant it to be a quick kiss, but there was no way he could control it. Not with the loosened inhibitions of too much alcohol. He crushed her to his chest, kissing her long and hard. The buttons on her pyjama top opened as he pulled at them, desperate to feel her against him, skin to skin. Her soft breast filled his hand, the nipple hardening as he grazed it with his thumb. She pressed herself against him, making little noises deep in her throat, and he groaned with the sheer torment of it all.

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy." He murmured it over and over as he kissed her face, trailing his lips across her cheek, loving the way she squirmed as he whispered it in her ear. Loving the way she arched up into him as his mouth moved lower to her breast. Her hands were on his back, urging him down, sliding to his bottom, and squeezing. Feeling in his pocket? He tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but she had them.

"Spike?" She held up the panties, her eyes wide. "Spike!"

He buried his face between her breasts. "The pig gave them to me. Bit of a pervert that pig, if you ask me." Then he looked up and was mightily relieved to find she was smiling. "You're not cross then?"

"I haven't decided." Her grin became decidedly wicked. "Of course, you'll have to be punished."

He dropped his head once more and kissed his way from one breast to the other, knowing this had to stop soon. He had to go to his bed and she had to go to hers. "Is that a promise?"

"Oh yes," Buffy gave a gasp as his mouth found her already-aching nipple. "It most definitely is."

Chapter 11

By the time Buffy woke up the next morning, it was past eleven o' clock, and she had a hangover to end all hangovers. She staggered to her bathroom and downed two painkillers, before slipping into her clothes of the previous night, and venturing out of her room. Last night, and all the incredible things that had happened, seemed like a dream. The kisses, the Well-House. Spike. Had he meant all those things he'd said? She peered out of the window and saw that all the cars were parked on the drive. So, he was still here. She padded across to his room, suddenly shy at the prospect of seeing him. Xander and Willow were still in bed, she could hear them talking softly, but the door to Spike's room was partly open, and the bed was empty. Buffy leaned her head back against the wall and fought off a wave of nausea. She wanted to see him before he went, but why did she feel so awkward about it? He hadn't wanted to stay with her when they'd finally made it upstairs, but she understood his reasons for that. He had to finish with Drusilla first because of her. The scarlet woman who'd lured him away. Drusilla was really going to hate her for this.


------------------------




Spike was already up, his mind on the unpleasant task that needed to be done some time today. He was determined to get it done sooner rather than later. No point in putting it off. That wouldn't be fair to anyone. Dru wasn't going to like it one bit and who could blame her? But he really had had enough of it all. Buffy had just brought forward the inevitable. Buffy. As he dressed, he remembered how she'd clung to him when he'd deposited her in her bed. She couldn't hold her drink, that was for sure. It would have been taking advantage to stay with her, pure and simple, and there was no way he was doing that. He made his way down to the kitchen and looked around for the coffee. When she came down he'd say good morning then go do what he had to do.


-----------------------------------




Willow slowly drifted out of sleep, and focused on her surroundings. Unfamiliar. The walls were the wrong colour and her teddy was suddenly - Xander shaped? She sat up and looked down at his sleeping form. What on earth had they got up to last night? They'd played Clue, but she had no memory of anything after that. A lot of kissing, yeah, and Buffy and Spike had been all over each other, but there wasn't anything about them getting into bed together. As she racked her foggy brain, he started to stir, and she felt a moment of panic. What if he regretted what happened? If anything had happened. Surely she should be able to remember it?


----------------------------




Xander woke up feeling warm, and happy, and utterly satisfied with life. He opened his eyes to the sight of Willow looking down on him, and he couldn't imagine a better way to start the day. He gave her a lazy smile and tried to pull her down for a kiss but it suddenly dawned on him that she didn't look that happy. His heart sank a little. "Hey."

"Hey."

At least she was speaking to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Willow sat up, feeling a bit self conscious in her skimpy nightie. "Xander?"

Uh oh, here it comes, he thought. He'd heard this one so many times, he ought to write a book. This wasn't supposed to be happening. It had felt so good, so right. He steeled himself for the brush off, wondering what he'd done wrong this time. Well, apart from jumping into bed with her without asking. What an idiot he was.

"I want to ask you something."

"Yes Willow, I'll be friends with you." He sighed. "That's what you were going to say wasn't it?

Willow looked a little confused but carried on. "Of course I want to be your friend Xander , but after we came to bed, did we, did we, do..."

"No, we didn't. I'd never take advantage of you. You must know that."

Willow flung herself onto his very manly chest, and hugged him. "Thank you Xander."

Now he was confused. "Does this mean you're not mad at me?"

She snuggled in even closer. "A lot of men would have, taken what they could. I was pretty drunk last night. Thanks for being such a gentleman."

Xander pulled the quilt up around them, his happy mood quickly returning. "My pleasure ma'am," he said in an American drawl. "Does this mean I can kiss you now?"


------------------------------




Buffy pushed open the kitchen door and was hit by the smell of coffee. Her stomach did a little flip and she wasn't sure whether it was the sight of Spike, leaning against the kitchen counter and drinking a cup of the stuff, or her delicate stomach. She ran a hand through her hair, which felt, and probably looked, like a haystack. "Morning."

"You look hungover."

"I feel it, why don't you?" It wasn't fair. Apart from slightly messed up hair, he looked perfectly normal. And she knew he'd had a lot more to drink than her.

"Used to it." He poured out a coffee and handed it to her. "I guess you're not?"

Buffy put the coffee down on the table. "Can't face that right now. Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes and no. C'm'ere Buffy."

He held out his arms and she sank gratefully against him and remembered what he'd felt like last night. It hadn't been a dream. The hand stroking her hair was the same. His voice, the feel of his chest. It was all there.

"Feeling rough?"

"You could say. I was afraid I'd dreamt it all."

"Last night?" He gave a little laugh. "That would have been some dream." He crooked his neck down to look at her. "No regrets then?"

"No, you?"

"None. Not looking forward to today though."

"With Dru? When will you see her?

"Going straight round. No point in putting it off."

"I feel bad for her Spike. Feel like I've stolen you away from her."

"You haven't Buffy, honest. It would have happened anyway. It's not going to be nice, but you've got to trust me on this."

"I do Spike." She pulled back as she heard footsteps on the stairs. "Looks like the others are up."

Spike drained his cup. "Yeah I gotta go." He placed a swift kiss on her lips. "Give me your phone number, I'll call you later."

"I've got some cards somewhere. Morning Willow, Xander. Spike was just leaving. Help yourself to coffee, cereal, toast."

Buffy followed Spike out and handed him his coat. "Let me know how it goes. " She handed him one of the change-of- address cards that she'd had printed to send to her friends back in the States, and he slipped it into his coat pocket. "Call me, please." God, that sounded needy, but she was close to tears as he walked towards the door. What if he couldn't do it? Finish with Dru. She didn't know Drusilla, but from what Spike had said, she wasn't the type to give up easily. What if Dru wouldn't let him go?

She knew she pulled funny faces when she cried, and she was doing it now. Spike frowned at her and framed her face with his hands.

"Chin up girl." He bent down for another kiss, brushing the tears away with his thumbs. "I'll call you as soon as I've seen her.

He kissed her again and then just held her, as she clung to him. She felt a bit silly when she pulled away, sniffing and wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me. Bad headache. That and I just don't want you to go."

"Got to love. Hey, why don't you go check out that poetry book you were reading last night? Left you a note."

"You did?" Oh heck, he hadn't seen that book had he?

She watched until his car was out of sight, then she went back upstairs to take a shower. As she undressed, she flicked through the poetry book. Page 42. Pulling on her bathrobe, she settled back on the bed to read it. Whoa, it was good, it was very erotic and it was - his. The name at the bottom of the poem simply read - Spike.


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Spike let himself into his flat, threw his keys onto the table and picked up the phone. He'd rehearsed it over and over in the car, but his hand was still shaking as he dialled the number, let it ring, switched it off. Did it again.

She sounded in a good mood when he finally got hold of her, and he could hear laughter in the background.

"Hi Dru. Look I need to see you. Yes now. You at The Frog? I'm gonna grab a shower, then I'm coming over."

By the time he got there, she'd gone. A small group of her college friends were clustered around the infamous Johnny, but no Dru. Spike scanned the bar, wondering if she'd gone to the bathroom or something. Then one of her friends caught his eye.

"Hi, Spike." She motioned him over. "You looking for Dru?" The bar was busy and they had to shout to be heard. "'Cause she's gone to your place. You'd better go after her, she's a bit..." the girl waggled her head towards Johnny. "Dunno what he gave her, but she was in a very good mood when she left."

"Shit." Spike wanted to strangle her, then he wanted to punch Johnny's lights out. "You're supposed to be her friend. Why d'you let her do this?"

"Why do you Spike?" She looked him up and down. "She was pretty upset last night, could have done with you here. Where were you?"

"Bugger off Darla. When did she leave?"

Darla sidled up to him and ran her finger up his arm. "Because if you two aren't...I'm so free right now."

"I said bugger off." Spike slapped her hand away. "What's she been saying?"

"Hit a nerve did I? Well, apparently you've been a bit lacking in the . . ." she looked pointedly at Spike's crotch, and smirked. "She tells me everything you know."

"Is that a fact?" Spike gave her a cold smile and felt in his pocket for his keys. "You don't want to believe everything you hear love." Then he turned and made his way through the crowd, fists clenched, jaw twitching. He was sick to the back teeth of it all. The bloody humiliation. Having to defend his manhood to Darla, of all people. If he ever saw that crowd again, it would be too fucking soon. He just wanted out.


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By the time Buffy emerged from the shower, Willow and Xander had gone. There was a note on the kitchen table.

Sorry we sneaked off. You looked like you could use some peace and quiet. Thanks for a great evening. I'll call you. Willow

To tell the truth, she was relieved. She couldn't concentrate on anything but what Spike was doing with Dru. How was it going? Would he do it? She looked at the phone. Call me Spike, please. I can't bear this. It didn't ring. She made herself a drink, grabbed a couple of cookies and went back upstairs. Sleep was what she needed more than anything, well, apart from Spike calling. She sat down on her bed and picked up the clock. He'd been gone less than an hour, and she'd counted every agonising minute. Buffy picked up the phone and placed it carefully on her pillow, then she laid her head next to it and focused all her determination on making it ring. Within minutes she was fast asleep.


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Spike found his front door unlocked when he got back home. She was here then. He took a deep breath and pushed it open. Dru was lying full-length on the couch, one arm on her chest, the other dangling to the floor. The television was blaring. For a moment he thought she was asleep, or worse, unconscious. He was at her side in three strides, dropping to his knees beside the couch and reaching for her hand. Not now, please not now. "Dru?" He shook her, "Dru, wake up."

Drusilla snapped one eye open and a big grin spread across her face. "Gotcha!" She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the couch. "Your face Spike, was a picture. You didn't really think I was..." She creased over, laughing at her own joke, stopping only when she realised that he wasn't.

Spike dropped her hand and sat back on his heels. "What the bloody hell was that about?"

She leaned forward and ran her hand lightly across his chest. "That, was about you being a naughty boy and leaving me all alone last night."

"You nearly gave me a sodding heart attack." Spike pushed himself to his feet. She was making it easy for him, and that somehow wasn't right. He'd got it stuck in his mind somewhere that this needed to be hard on him. That if he suffered now, it would somehow absolve him. But the words slipped right out, nice and easy. "I can't take any more of this Dru." It almost sounded like someone else was saying them. "I've had enough, let's cool it, we can still be friends." He didn't really mean that one. All the old clichés. It shocked him how readily they rolled off his tongue. And all the while she just stood there, arms folded, waiting for him to finish. Then she sat down and picked up the TV remote control.

"So, Spikey, what do you wanna watch?"

"Dru." He sat down next to her. "Have you heard a word I've said?"

She flicked channels. "Ooh, look, James Bond, with Pierce whats-is-name. I like him."

No, It wasn't going to be easy.

He leaned over, took the remote from her and flicked off the TV. "Dru, love, look at me. Do you know what I'm trying to say?"

"Not listening, not listening." She put her hands over her ears and rocked backwards and forwards, sticking her tongue out at him like a child. "Can't hear you."

"Dru," he tried to pull her hands away but she wriggled out of his grasp and stood up, eyes blazing.

"I said, I'm - not - listening." She screamed it at the top of her voice. "Can't... " her voice trailed away, "hear - you." She slumped back down on the couch and dropped her hands to her lap. "Did you say something, Spike?"

Spike was dumb-struck. What kind of shit was he? Doing this to her when she was in this state. It took him two attempts before he was able to speak. "What did you take Dru?"

"Dunno," she sounded like a little girl. "That stuff from Johnny."

"We need to get you help, Dru, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess," she nodded slowly and then turned to him. "But you'll help me, won't you?" Her hand crept round his back as she leaned her head against his chest. "Help me Spike, I'm so scared."

"Bloody hell Dru," Spike's arm went around her and pulled her close. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"


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Dru smiled as she pressed her face against Spike's shirt. She'd known this was coming for a long time, but did he really think he was going to get away that easily? Spike belonged to her. Had since the moment she'd set eyes on him. He was just being silly, paying her back for not wanting to spend a boring evening with his boring friends. And this was a game they'd played before. Would play again. That's what made this so special. The passion. He needed it and so did she. Her hands moved round to his belt buckle and slowly started to undo it. "Got just the thing for you pet. You just lie back and Dru'll kiss it all better."

Chapter 12

"Leave it out Dru." Spike grabbed her hands and held them up, away from him. Disbelief clouded her features. She lunged back in at him, but he held her firm. "No Dru, no more."

"Okay, okay." Her hands broke free and she held them up, palms towards him. A gesture of peace. "You mean it, don't you?"

"Yeah." He couldn't look at her. "Look, we don't have to do this now, how are you feeling?"

"Well," she stared at her palms, opening and closing them. "I was feeling rather good, until you came in and told me that you and me are a big pile of shit."

"That's not what I said, Dru. And this is a crap time to be having this conversation. Let me take you home." He stood up, picking up his car keys. "Get yourself right. We'll talk tomorrow."

"You'll talk, you mean." She gave a half-snort, half-laugh. "You like to hear yourself talk, did you know that Spike?"

"Yeah, I've been told. Come on."

"No, let's have this out now. Just tell me why."

"There's nothing left Dru. We don't make each other happy any more." I've got someone else He turned away. "And this drugs thing. It's killing me."

"No Spike." She looked at him with a calm certainty. The sanest she'd looked all evening. "It's killing me. Do you want that on your conscience?"

The car keys flew across the table and he whirled round to face her "I have never, ever, supported your drug habit. How can you say that? I loved you. Do you think I like seeing you slowly killing yourself? Like seeing you with that pig Johnny? What do you do for the drugs Dru? You sure-as-hell can't afford to buy them."

"Loved?" She picked up her coat. "As in past tense? As in not any more? Shouting didn't work, would it help if I cried?"

She was coming down. Whatever high she'd been on, Spike recognised the familiar signs. A little bit of the Dru he used to know. Sharp and bright. For a few moments. Then she'd crash-land into a weeping mess. And he'd have to catch her, like he always did.

"Come on love," he took her by the elbow, but she shook him off.

"At least let me get my things."

Spike ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah." He gestured towards the bedroom. "Go ahead."

She emerged a few moments later, carrying a small bag. "Not much to show, for two years, eh?"

That just about summed it up really. Spike picked up his keys. "Come on then."

"No need, I'll find my own way."

"No you bloody won't." He grabbed her by the arm and held her as he locked the front door. She didn't struggle. He wouldn't have forced her if she had. Knew better than that. Then he walked her to his car. "Get in." The battle of wills lasted for a few seconds longer, before he said again, more gently this time. "Please."

As he drove Dru home, he remembered a similar conversation with a girl, by a car and his hand went to the scar that was forming over his eye. The night his world had turned upside - down. Sweet, sexy, accident-prone Buffy. She'd be waiting for his call. Waiting for him. Only something didn't feel quite right. Going straight from one girl to another. He wanted Buffy like he never wanted anything before, but would she understand that he needed some space, some thinking time? In a few minutes he would be saying goodbye to Dru for the last time. Putting two years of his life behind him. It wasn't like taking off an old sweater and throwing it in the trash. Right now he was raw and exposed. And a whole lot of other things, all mixed up and jumbled in his head. It was a kind of grief, and only time would put that right.

They pulled up outside Dru's house, and she jumped out before he'd even stopped the car. He hadn't gotten half-way up the path, before she slammed the front door and disappeared from view. And that was it. Finished.


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Drusilla ran up to her bedroom and slammed the door. The house was empty, her parents away for the afternoon. She flung herself on her bed and felt in her pocket. The card. It had been in his duster pocket. She'd been looking for money. Figured he owed her, but this was much more interesting. The words blurred as her eyes filled with tears. "Buffy Summers has moved to England!" She turned the card over, then turned it back. "Who are you love? Did you steal my William away from me?" She crumpled the card in her hand, and stared at the ceiling. "Did you?"


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The phone rang mid-afternoon. Buffy went from sleep to wake in two seconds and grabbed the receiver, almost dropping it in her haste.

"Oh, hi Willow. No I wasn't asleep, well, yeah, but it's okay."

Willow had a date with Xander. That was good. Yes it had been a nice evening. No he hadn't called. Why not? Yes, perhaps tonight.

"Okay, see you on Monday then." Willow finally got off the line. Buffy felt a bit mean for being so short with her, particularly since she was brimming with the good news about her and Xander, but she wanted the line left clear. If he didn't ring soon, she was going to explode. The clock told her she'd only been asleep for a couple of hours. That couldn't be right. She sat up and stretched, then went downstairs. The kitchen clock said the same time and so did the one in the lounge. Damn.

Assignments. She had a couple of those to do, and lots of nervous energy to burn off, but she'd never be able to concentrate. A run, she should go for a run, and she could take her cell-phone. The number was on the card she'd given him. Wasn't it? Now she had to go and check it, because if it wasn't, there was no way she was leaving the house. Yes, there it was. But what if he came round, without phoning? No run. She needed to be here. Treadmill then. Maybe it would clear her head. Get rid of this strange, disjointed feeling. And kill some time.

As she pounded away on the running machine, she tried to think of anything but what Spike was doing right now. The Lake District trip. She'd need some new clothes. Walking boots, a snazzy waterproof jacket. And a big grin spread across her face as she remember whose name was at the top of the list, besides Professor Hartington. William Giles. Spike was coming too. Could this get any better? But heck, now she was thinking about Spike again. And why hadn't he called?


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That was it then. Bridges burned and all that. Spike felt a guilty kind of relief as he got back into his car. It was a weird feeling. Freedom. Made him feel kind of spacey. Cast adrift. He looked back at the house, noticing that the car wasn't on the drive. No parents. Didn't like leaving her by herself. No telling how she was going to be when she came out of it. He looked up at her bedroom window, wondering what to do, and she was there, staring out at him. He held her gaze for a few seconds, looked away, looked back and she was still there. Her expression was unreadable but there was something in it that gave him goosebumps. He shivered and tore his gaze away. Now he was worried. What if she did something stupid? He was halfway out of the car when her parents arrived.

Thank god He walked over to the driver's side as Dru's dad parked up. "Dan. I need to talk to you."

"Hello Spike." Dru's dad gave him a friendly wave as he got out of the car. "Long time no see."

"Uhh, yeah, look Dru's inside. She not too well. Make sure you look in on her."

Dan's face fell. "I see, is it...?"

"Fraid so. Look I'm sorry Dan. I did what I could. Moira." He nodded as Dru's mother got out of her side. She eyed him coldly.

"I thought I told you not to come round here." She pointed a finger at him. "I blame you for this William."

"Come on dear," Dan took his wife's arm. "The lad's done his best." He turned and nodded to Spike. "We'll look after her, don't worry. Pop round tomorrow, eh?"

"No!" Moira turned on Spike. "You are not welcome here, just leave my baby alone."

Bloody, fucking hell. Spike clenched his jaw to stop himself answering . Why was she always blaming him for Dru's problems? The last thing he wanted was to get into a slanging match with Mrs. Harris. He turned and stomped back to his car, stopping for a last look at Dru's window. She was still there and this time he could see her expression quite clearly. She was smiling.

He went straight to the supermarket and bought a large bottle of bourbon and some smokes. Then he went home and got mind numbingly drunk. By five o' clock he was out cold on the couch, phone in one hand, bottle in the other. The phone rang twice but he didn't hear it. It slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor. The remainder of the bourbon tipped over at some point and soaked the front of his tee-shirt. In his dream he was being pulled in two by an angel and a devil. And neither of them were about to let him go.


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Buffy had been determined to let him call her, but by five o'clock she still hadn't heard anything. She must have picked up the phone a dozen times, then put it down again. Just after five, her fingers were dialling his number of their own accord. She couldn't have stopped them if she'd tried. There was no answer. By half past five she was dialling again. Still nothing. There was only one W. Giles in the phone book. She scribbled down the address and got out her A to Z of the area. It was only a few blocks away he'd said. Her finger moved over the map. There it was. Now she knew where he lived. The hard bit was going to be stopping herself from going over there. What if Dru was still there? A sudden image of a carousel flashed into her mind. The one her parents had hired for her sixth birthday party. Waiting for it to stop, jumping impatiently because she wanted the kids to get off so she could have another turn. Pushing the little girl off the gaudily painted horse because she wasn't getting down fast enough. Then jumping smugly onto the horse and sticking her tongue out at her. "Gonna get you Buffy," the girl had cried as she ran to her mom. "You stole my best toy. Gonna get you."

Buffy shook her head to clear the image. Time to eat something -she was so hungry she was almost hallucinating. That wasn't a nice memory at all. The carousel horses had given her horrible nightmares, which she still had occasionally. Only now Drusilla was in the mix. She felt like she was waiting for Drusilla to get off, so she could get on. It suddenly seemed so cynical, with poor Spike in the middle. She placed the phone back in it's cradle. He'd ring when he was good and ready. Like he'd said. She had to trust him on that.


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Spike woke up just after eight o' clock. He lay still for a few moments, waiting for the room to stop spinning, then he staggered to the bathroom and threw up. Man, he'd been stupid.

He smelled like a brewery and the bourbon bottle was alarmingly empty. He hadn't drunk it all, had he? Peeling off his clothes, he stepped into the shower and washed off the nauseating smell. Somewhere, in the back of his pounding brain, there was something he had to do. As he towelled himself dry, he saw the phone lying on the floor. Christ, Buffy, she'd be waiting for his call, and it was half- past -eight. He slicked back his wet hair. Where did the day go? Throwing on a pair of sweatpants, he picked up the phone and remembered the card she'd given him. It was in his duster pocket, which was on his bed. He rummaged around in all the pockets, wondering where it had gone, but not giving it too much attention. Directory enquiries would have it. He punched in 192.

That done, he lay back on the bed and dialed Buffy's number. This afternoon he couldn't have imagined wanting to see her so soon. Had his speech all worked out. How he needed a little time to adjust to things. But right now, that all seemed like a load of bollocks. He was free. And he really wanted to see her. Okay, he wasn't exactly in the mood for love, and probably wasn't capable of anything more than a cuddle. But boy, did he need that cuddle right now. This was the awkward bit. Going from one girl to the next. He was always going to look the villain in this, but heck, this was what they both wanted. Why waste time waiting?

Chapter 13

Buffy stared at the phone as if she'd never seen one before. It was ringing. That meant she had to answer it. All day she'd waited, waited some more and was just getting to the bit where you start replaying all the conversations in your head. Had he really said this, had he meant that? Had she dreamed it all? And now that could be him.

She picked it up with trembling hands, and hit the green button. If he'd phoned earlier, she would have flown to it, grabbed it off it's cradle and jammed it to her ear. But she'd had too long to think. About the possibilities. Of what? Of him not coming back, not finishing with Dru. Realising he'd been foolish? She pressed it carefully to her ear. It might not be him at all. Please let it be.

"Spike?" He knees went a little wobbly as she heard his voice. A whole day's worth of tension released at the same time. As he spoke, all she could think of was that it was okay, it was okay. The words went over and over in her head, as he spoke, told her how to find his flat. He wanted to see her. And she wanted to see him so much. The way you do at the start of a new relationship. When you haven't quite convinced yourself that it's real yet. A new future? She reigned in those galloping feelings. Too soon to tell, but it held such possibilities. Little by little she was breaking free of her old life. Finding out who she really was. Granted, she still lived the luxury life-style, so she was cheating a little, but hey, Rome wasn't built in a day.

Once it had sunk in that what she'd been waiting for all day had finally happened, she went into overdrive, rushing upstairs like a lunatic, flinging the contents of her wardrobe on the floor, brushing her teeth, checking her make-up. He deserved a bit more that workout -Buffy, after what he'd done for her. She overdid the perfume and had to rush back to the bathroom, coughing, and wash some off. Only one earring. Hell, where had it gone? Which shoes? Was she walking or taking the car? Then she was standing at the front door, locking it behind her.

As she walked out of her exclusive housing estate she thought of her father. He'd have a fit if he saw her now, walking, unescorted, at night. He'd have sent her in the chauffeured Limo. She giggled to herself as she imagined the conversation. Darling, Johnson will be waiting outside while you have sex with your lover. Take your time, I won't be needing him tonight. Of course, her dad would never say such a thing. Not about the sex, anyway.

Then why had she thought of it? Is that where she was going, to have sex with her lover? Yesterday she'd been having all sorts of fantasies about it, but that was okay because she knew they wouldn't. Spike's sense of honour had seen to that. But now? There was nothing to stop them, and she was suddenly really nervous about it. Weird, mixed up feelings. That was love for you.

And there he was coming towards her. Cocky walk, black coat swinging, shocking hair, beautiful smile. Hers.

He opened his arms as she ran towards him, and lifted her off the ground. Swung her round, staggered a bit as he put her down. Grinned sheepishly as he held his head.

Buffy looked at him, concerned. "You okay Spike?"

"Yes and no. Had a disagreement with a bottle of bourbon. Better for seeing you though." He gave her a swift kiss on the lips and took her hand. "Come on, I'll show you how the other half live."

When they got to his flat, he led her down the stone steps and unlocked the door, pushing it open for her. "Bit of a mess, I'm afraid. Must have a word with the housekeeper. Throw your coat over there, I'll make us a drink."

So this was where Spike lived. One sofa, an old armchair, a table stacked with books and papers. Shelves, with more books. The obligatory TV and stereo. Cd's scattered on the floor. Buffy stood, soaking it in. Trying to get a feel for the place. This was Spike, and probably a bit of Dru too, she realised. But it felt just right for Spike. She somehow knew that he wouldn't be interested in material things. He walked back into the room and caught her staring at his stuff.

Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"What are you thinking, Buff?"

She leaned back into him, running a finger along his bare forearm. "I was thinking that all of this would fit into the foyer of the house back home."

"And that matters?"

"No, no, of course not. I just don't want you to think it does."

"I don't." He turned her to face him. "What's brought this on then?"

"I don't know, sometimes I feel like such a spoilt brat. I thought I was being so grown up, leaving America...I'm still just playing at it really."

"Hey now." He led her to the armchair, sat down and pulled her down on his lap. She settled against his chest, hoping she hadn't offended him with her comment. It didn't matter one bit that the flat was small and scruffy. But it did bring home to her just how lacking in independence she really was. Daddy was still controlling her and she was still letting him. He hadn't even asked her if she'd wanted that stupid sports car. And she hadn't questioned it being there. It was no less than she expected.

"Buffy, money is something you have or you don't. If you do, great. If you don't, not so great. You don't have to feel guilty for being rich. I'd want you whatever. You do know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know." She lifted her head and studied his face. He really had the most expressive eyes. Right now they were shining with a simple tenderness and understanding. The way he looked at her, so open and honest. His hand was caressing her back, soothing her, letting her know it was safe for her to be opening up like this.

"Bit weird isn't it? Starting a new relationship. All raging hormones and physical attraction. Then finding out there's a person behind it all, someone you don't know very well. But every time you're with them you learn a little more about them. That's the fun bit, right ? Don't get me wrong Buffy, I am after you for your luscious little body, but I want to know what goes on in here too." He smoothed his hand over her hair, then trailed it down the side of her neck, stopping and flattening his palm over her heart. "And in here. Everything."

Buffy was mesmerised. The things he said, the way he talked. She'd never gone out with a poet before. Never realised quite how sexy the spoken word could be. That little bit of huskiness that crept into his voice when he was being intense. It went straight to the core of her. There was no need to say anything. She leaned in and kissed him, pulling back to see how she was doing, leaned in again when she saw that she was very obviously doing okay.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, intensity slowly building, hands exploring until they both needed a breather. Spike flopped his head back against the chair.

"Do you know how good you are at that? You kiss like an angel."

"And how many girls have you impressed with that line?"" He looked tired, Buffy thought, and more than a little hung-over. Just how much had he had to drink?

"Just thought of it. So none. But I saw one once."

"When?" she settled against him, thinking how nice it was just to talk.

"Week or so back, in a car park. Some guy whacked me with a bloody champagne bottle. Got rescued by an angel." His expression turned a bit more serious. "Haven't been the same since."

Neither have I, she thought, ridiculously pleased at the compliment. "How did it go with Dru today?" She'd almost been too afraid to ask, but she needed to know.

"Not sure really. Hard to tell with Dru."

"Oh." She didn't want to push it, but he wasn't telling her what she wanted to hear.

He seemed to realise it. "It's finished Buffy, don't worry about that. We said we'd do this properly, didn't we? Now, how about that cuppa I promised you?"

He was doing it again, changing the subject. He was good at that. And she let him. He'd tell her about Dru in his own good time. The important thing was that she was here, now, with him, and that was what she wanted more than anything in the world.


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Willow was feeling very pleased with herself indeed. And, judging from the look on his face, so was Xander. "I guess this makes me all growed up," she said, drawing circles with her finger on his chest. Then she sat up, pulling the sheet with her and looked serious for a moment. "That was amazing Xander, thank you. Do you think we could..."

"Do it again?" Xander lifted the sheet and looked under it. "There's a distinct possibility. Do that thing again."

Willow let the sheet fall and leaned towards him, her tongue slowly sweeping across her bottom lip. "What, this?"

"Yep, that's the one." He lifted the sheet again. "Thunderbirds are definitely go." Willow collapsed onto his chest in a fit of giggles. She had no idea what he was talking about, but he made her laugh all the same. And he'd almost made her cry when they'd made love, it had been so perfect. I've come halfway round the world to meet the man of my dreams, she thought. And I'm not wasting a precious moment of it.

He'd brought out a Willow that no-one knew existed. She hadn't even known it herself. Yet here she was, feeling all satisfied, and womanly, and very horny. If anyone had mentioned that last one in the same sentence as her name, she would have turned bright red and run a mile but here she was, in bed with her lover, propositioning him even. Getting all kinds of interesting responses. Thinking all sort of very strange and naughty thoughts. Wondering what he'd look like in a Batman costume. Wondering if he'd ever made love outdoors. In his car?

She lifted her head and did the tongue thing again, and he rolled her over onto her back, coming down on top of her with a groan. He let her go for one moment while he grabbed a condom off the bedside table, and then she had nothing else to think about but the wonderful thing they were doing, right there and then.


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Spike fished the tea-bags out of the mugs and threw them in the sink. His headache was really getting into gear now, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to stay awake much longer, but he didn't want Buffy to go. Grabbing a packet of cookies and tucking them under his arm, he made his way back to the room. She was browsing his considerable book collection, and she turned as she heard him return.

"Liked your poem. Have you had many published?"

He handed her the mug, dropping the cookies on the chair. "A few. You?"

"One. Competition win. That was the prize, you know, getting published." She took the mug, then pointed to the cookies. "Can I? Haven't eaten much today."

"Oh," Spike handed her the packet and pointed to the kitchen. "I could make you something. As long as you like baked beans that is."

"No, the cookies will be fine." She took one and he watched her as she ate it. It was getting late and they were both tired, and they'd suddenly reached that awkward bit of the evening. The 'are you coming in for coffee' moment that was code- for- something- else. The words of a song popped into his head, should I stay or should I go? Would she stay? He desperately wanted her to, but he didn't want to frighten her by coming on too strong.

The silence stretched between them as they sipped at their drinks, the air heavy with expectation. She was looking at him, over the top of her cup, with those gorgeous eyes of hers. It was definitely his call. She couldn't very well invite herself, could she?

He put down his cup and walked the few steps towards her. Taking the cup out of her hand, he put it down on the table and took both of her hands in his. "Buffy, stay with me tonight."

She looked a little startled, he thought. Had she really not been expecting him to say that? He quickly qualified it. "Just to sleep, I'm not up to much else at the moment." He let his hands slide up her arms to her shoulders. "Be nice to wake up with you tomorrow morning."

She hadn't taken her eyes off him. And they seemed to be growing larger by the minute. "I don't have any stuff with me." Her voice almost wasn't there.

"I'll lend you a tee-shirt." He nodded encouragement.

"Yes Spike, I'll stay."

She looked away as she said it, almost as if she were gathering her courage, but when she looked back up at him she was giving him such a slow, sexy smile that it sent his pulse racing. And he found that despite his massive headache and desperate need for sleep, a certain part of his anatomy was definitely getting other ideas.


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Buffy's heart was doing funny things too. The samba, the waltz and now the tango. It was hard to breathe when it couldn't make up it's mind how to beat. "I get to choose the Tee-shirt, right?"

"Yeah, as long as you like black or white." Spike gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. "Go through. I'll lock up."

Buffy picked up her purse and went through to the bedroom. It was sparsely furnished too - just a bed, a wardrobe and a bedside cupboard. A small wooden chair strewn with clothes. It should have felt bare and strange, but it felt - cosy. She flicked on the bedside light, picked the quilt up from the floor, and arranged it on the bed. Then she opened the wardrobe, wondering where he kept his tee-shirts. Looking at his clothes like this gave her a strangely voyeuristic thrill. Clothes were sexy, yes - when they were on the person, but Spike's managed to be sexy on hangers, and folded on shelves. She couldn't see any tee-shirts so she took out the blue shirt that she'd seen him wearing in the library. Another little fantasy of hers, wearing men's shirts. God, they were all coming true at once.

He hadn't come into the bedroom yet, and she realised that he was probably giving her some privacy, so she quickly stripped off her clothes, leaving on her panties, and slid the shirt over her head. It covered her quite decently, except that the sleeves were much too long so she turned them back and started to fold her clothes in a neat pile.

"It looks nicer on you."

He was standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets. Watching her. How long had he been there? And why did she keep going all shy when he looked at her like that? They'd kissed. Passionately. He'd touched her, she'd touched him. But every time they were apart, for even a few moments, she felt as if she was starting again. Maybe it was that she just couldn't believe that she'd got this far, so soon. In his bedroom, wearing his clothes. It was strangely surreal and wickedly exciting.

"Bathroom's free." He walked over to the bed, stripping off his tee-shirt as he went. Stopping when he saw her looking, turning round to give her a better view.

And she looked. Who wouldn't want to look at that? Strength and beauty. Power and grace. All in one, perfect package. His hands went to his fly and she whirled round and fled to the bathroom. She used the toothbrush on the sink. It was probably his. Then she padded back to the bedroom. He was already in bed. He switched off the side light as she slipped in beside him and reached over to pull her close. She wriggled until she was comfy and he brought his other arm around her. Nearly - naked Spike with his rough, hairy legs tangled in her satin - smooth ones. Hard muscles. His breath in her hair. Another step in their relationship, she thought. There was so much to learn. His breathing steadied as he relaxed, but she couldn't get hers under control. It was enough just for now, lying here with him, but her mind was racing all over the place. What was he really like? Would her dad like him? Did he snore?

Then he spoke.

"Buffy, would you do something for me?"

A little tingling started up in the pit of her stomach. He didn't move, and neither did she. "Anything Spike. Just tell me what you want." And she meant it. She felt as if she was hovering at the edge of a cliff. He only had to say the word, and she'd jump.

"Get rid of that car of yours."

"Oh." Not what she was expecting.

He shifted himself to face her. "Yeah, gotta worry about you, out in that thing."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"That's nice - you worrying about me."

"But?"

"But what?" She snuggled back into him, glad that he couldn't see her face. "Not exactly what I thought you were going to say, that."

"Ahh, sorry love, am I a big disappointment tonight?"

"No, Spike, you're... you're, more than I'd ever dreamed of." She lifted her head and tried to make out his features in the darkness. "It's just that I'm so new at all this. Do you know what I'm trying to say?"

"Yeah. S'why I figured we'd go kinda slow. That, and this monster headache." He laughed. "Never thought I'd hear myself use that excuse. But never, ever think it's 'cause I don't want you, 'cause I do. Thought you might like to set the pace is all."

Buffy felt herself relaxing properly for the first time that evening. "I like the sound of that. Do you have, umm, any special requests?"

"You still got that leather top?"

"Yeah."

He cleared his throat. "And the stockings?"

"Many pairs."

"Then hold that thought Buff."

It wasn't fair. How was she going to sleep after what he'd said? And, could he be more perfect? Suddenly all the nervousness was gone, replaced by a warm, content feeling.

"Thank you Spike."

"My pleasure."

"I sure hope so," she thought as she finally drifted off to sleep. "I sure hope so."

Chapter 14

Buffy woke up some time during the night, needing the bathroom. It took her a few moments to remember where she was, the unfamiliar clock ticking, the traffic outside and the warm body next to her were not what she was used to at all. Her clock didn't tick, very little traffic passed through her exclusive enclave and she definitely wasn't used to hearing another person breathe when she was in bed. She slipped from under the quilt, shivering a little as she padded to the bathroom. The main room - she didn't know quite what to call it - still smelled vaguely of cigarette smoke and bourbon. Probably in the furnishings, she thought, hurrying back to bed. By the time she got there she was shivering in earnest, so it seemed natural to cuddle up to the nice, warm body that was Spike. He'd rolled onto his side, so she wrapped herself against his back and concentrated on getting warm for a few moments. Then, as she relaxed once more the feeling changed to one of simply enjoying the feel of him.

She loved the way he looked, but this was something different. The texture of his skin, the way his muscles moved as she trailed a finger experimentally across his back, the hair on the back of his neck tickling her nose. Everything concentrated into touch and smell. It was intoxicating. Now she realised why people closed their eyes when they kissed. To feel the pleasure of that one thing alone, blocking out all the other distractions. Her leg slid up and down his calf. Would it be mean to wake him? He seemed pretty out of it, his breathing heavy and even, and he'd really looked like he'd needed a good night's sleep. The trouble was that now she was all excited. Her roving fingers were enjoying themselves far too much for it to stop there. The darkness and the fact that he was asleep, and helpless made her feel giddy and reckless, and it was suddenly too damned hot. With a wicked smile, she wriggled out of his shirt and pushed it away. That was better. Now she could feel most of him. Apart from the bit covered by his boxers - but that would definitely wake him. Of course, she didn't plan to fall asleep this way. The plan was to put the shirt back on, at some point, but it felt so nice that she found herself not wanting to. Just a few moments more, she thought, rubbing herself sensuously against the muscles of his back. Knowing that he could wake up at any minute and catch her made it even more thrilling. And that was her last thought before she drifted away.


------------------------------------------

It was about seven a.m. when Spike woke up. His headache wasn't quite as bad as he remembered from the night before, but the inside of his mouth felt like the Sahara Desert. And Buffy was . . . almost-naked in his bed? He remembered the going to bed bit, but surely that had involved the wearing of some shirt or other. Hadn't it been blue? She was curled up beside him, one arm spread over his chest, the quilt barely covering her shoulders. And she definitely wasn't wearing the shirt. He wondered what else she wasn't wearing. No, he'd definitely remember that. Just what had the wicked little minx been up to while he'd been asleep? She was such an adorable mixture of innocence and sexiness, he thought. One minute bumbling around incompetently in her car, the next giving him the biggest early-morning hard -on that he'd had for a long time.

And that was without her doing anything. If she moved, he was going to lose it completely, so he eased himself carefully out of her arms and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

He took a few calming breaths, then made his way to the bathroom, turning up his nose at the stale smell of booze and cigarettes. Funny, he hadn't noticed that last night. He brushed his teeth and grabbed himself a couple of painkillers before going back to bed. When he got there, Buffy was stirring. He slid in beside her, and took her in his arms and magically the hard- on came back, full force. Clever girl, he thought. It was a long time since he'd just enjoyed the simple pleasure of lying in bed cuddled up with a woman he could trust. To be fair to Dru, she'd taught him about passion, and taken him places he'd never been before, and for a while it had been just what he'd needed. But it had all got too tangled, and kind of desperate. Now, he realised, he just wanted someone who would love him, be nice to him and make him happy. He was more than willing to give back. She gave another little moan and wriggled into him, pressing her breasts against his chest, and muttering something incoherent. Then she opened her eyes.

--------------------------------

Buffy blinked, trying to focus in the dim morning light. Spike's bare chest, his hand trailing slowly up and down her arm, rain spattering against the window pane. The remnants of her dream faded away as she came to and took in the sounds and sights of the morning.

"Morning cutie." Spike twisted himself so he was facing her, his hand still moving across her arm and shoulder.

"Morning," she said sleepily. "Umm, this is a nice way to wake up." Better than an alarm clock, she thought. His hand moving lightly over her bare skin was sending lovely little shock waves right down to her toes. She'd had a very naughty dream in which she'd explored every part of his body, in great detail, and he'd done the same to her, sliding the shirt off her shoulders so he could see more of her. Oh heck, the shirt. The memory of her little nocturnal interlude came flooding back to her, and she wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or not. He sure as hell didn't seem to mind finding her like this.

He was watching his hand intently, as it travelled across her skin. When it got to her collar- bone he stopped and looked at her, as if asking permission to go further. She nodded mutely, his slow, sexy grin causing her breath to catch in her throat, and arched up ever so slightly to encourage him. Not that he needed it. His hand had already found her breast, the fingers teasing the nipple, his mouth following. Pulling the quilt away as he dipped down, causing her to shiver both with the cold, and with anticipation of where his mouth was headed. When he finally lifted his head she felt totally boneless, and her extremely expensive designer-panties were soaked through. And she didn't want him to stop.

As he crawled back up her body she shifted her position, capturing him between her thighs, a hand on either side of his face so she could really look at him and tell him what she wanted. He'd said it was her call, so she was calling it. He liked words, so she was using them.

"Make love to me Spike. I don't want to wait any longer." It felt strange to hear those words coming out of her mouth, but it was okay because it didn't sound like her. Her voice had a honeyed silkiness that she didn't recognise. Everything she did was changing her, and this, most of all. She gently thrust her hips upwards, just to back up her message. Not that he wasn't getting it. He was biting his bottom lip and looking deep inside her. Looking for the truth of it.


She nodded. "Please Spike, I'm going to die if you say no now.

By way of response his mouth crashed down on hers, followed by the full weight of his body, grinding into her. For a few moments they were both totally out of control, completely swept away by the sheer lust of it all. She groped at his boxers, he was yanking down her panties. Then he was talking, trying to say something between ragged breaths. She grabbed his face and dragged it back to hers, trying to silence him with kisses. no more talking, only this. But he pulled away again.

"Buffy." His voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. "Buffy, are you...are you on the pill?"

"Pill?" She tried to pull him down again, but what he's said was sinking in. Contraception. She'd forgotten all about it in her headlong rush into lust. But he'd have it sorted, right? Didn't men always have bedside tables full of condoms?

She shook her head. "No...I've never..." Then it struck her that perhaps she should have made it clearer that it was her first time. What if he was expecting someone more experienced? Had he just assumed she'd be on the pill?

More words. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her erratic breathing. He was a good listener, gave her all his attention when she talked, and he was doing it now. Still looking at her with that soulful gaze that told her that her words would be safe with him.

"I've never done this before." It was still hard to say it. How could you get to nineteen and not have done it? "But I really want to do it now. With you Spike. You're the first man who's ever made me want to say these words. I want you inside me. I want you all around me. I want to forget where I end and where you begin."

He was still searching her face in a kind of awe-struck wonder.

"And now look what you've done." She gave a little laugh. "I'm a straight talking American and you've got me spouting poetry like, well, like you."

"Don't sell yourself short love." He leaned his head down so that his forehead was resting on hers. "Have you any idea what those words do to me? I don't care if I'm the first or the last. I just love the way you told me that you want me. Always be that honest with me Buff. It's all I ask."

They both lay still for a moment, each absorbing the other's words. Then Spike kissed her again.

"Are you ready Buff?"

"Yeah, and some."

He rolled over and groped in his bedside table drawer. "Bollocks." The drawer came out of it's runners, the contents scattering on the floor. Spike leaned over and sorted frantically through the mess. "Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks."

Buffy hitched herself up and draped herself over his back, looking down at the things littering the floor. "Don't tell me you don't have..."

"Damn. I was sure there'd be one left. Haven't bought any for a while."

Buffy dropped her head onto his back and giggled, letting go of all the tension that the last few minutes had built up. "Can you go buy some?"

"Not until the supermarket opens at eleven. Sunday opening hours. He looked so disappointed. Buffy hugged him, and he twisted round into her arms.

"Hey, no laughing missy. Fragile male ego issues here."

He tapped her on the end of her nose with his finger, and she caught it in her mouth, sucking at it gently. She let it go and moved on to the next one. "How long till the shop opens?"

"Two hours."

"Two hours, eh?" She lay back and stretched her arms over her head, batting her eyelashes innocently at him. "Now what on earth can we do to fill all that time? Any suggestions?"

"I might just be able to think of some." He was cheering up fast, the sexy grin re-appearing. "How about we start with this."


---------------------------

Two hours later, Buffy lay, completely boneless again, in Spike's bed while he yanked on his jeans. He pulled on the blue shirt she'd been wearing, and leaned down to kiss her again as he did up the buttons.

"Be as quick as I can love. Need anything else while I'm out?"

Buffy was glad she didn't have to leave the bed. His flat wasn't very warm.

"Something nice for breakfast. Waffles, maybe, and, maple syrup. Does that sound good?"

"I'll see what they've got." He walked to the door, then ran back and kissed her again.

She pushed him off. "Go already. The faster you go...know what I'm trying to say?"

"Okay, I'm gone." He grabbed his coat from the chair and disappeared through the door.

"Don't drive too fast," she called out after him. The state he was in, he was likely to be picked up for speeding, and she didn't think that I was rushing back to have sex with my girlfriend, officer would go down too well in his defence.

The front door slammed shut and she was alone. All by herself in her boyfriend's flat. That sounded nice. She snuggled into the quilt and smiled as she remembered just how they'd managed to kill those two hours. He really was very creative, and so, she'd discovered, was she becoming. Of course, he was a very inspirational teacher. She lifted her head as she heard the front door open and close once more. He was never going to get there if he kept coming back for kisses. She wasn't going to give him one, she decided, not until he...

The bedroom door opened and Buffy ducked under the covers, stifling a giggle. Let him find her. She strained to hear him approach the bed, but there was nothing. What on earth was he doing? After a few seconds she peeked out and she came face to face with one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. And she knew at once that it was Drusilla.

----------------------------

The woman folded her arms and leaned against the door frame.

"Hello, Buffy Summers."

"Drusilla?" Buffy sat up, pulling the quilt with her. What on earth was she doing here? Spike had said they were finished.

"So what story is he using this time?" Dru studied her fingernails, as if she was already bored with the conversation. "The old, my girlfriend doesn't understand me routine? Poor little Spikey."

Buffy felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. There was something very scary about Drusilla. She seemed to be looking right through her, almost as if she could read her mind. "What are you doing here? I thought he'd..."

"Finished with me?" Dru laughed. "Naa, he tries. But he never quite means it. You're not the first, you know. He does this. One woman - not enough for my Spike. But I don't mind." She stalked towards the bed. "Never did mind a threesome myself. You're not exactly my type, but hey, beggars can't be choosers."

"Excuse me?" Buffy recoiled slightly as Dru came towards the bed. She wasn't exactly at her fighting best with the being naked and all.

"Dru put her hand on the quilt and gave a little tug. "What's wrong love? Am I scaring you? He always did like easy little wimps like you." She tugged again. "Boo."

That did it. Buffy knew that if she backed down now, the spectre of Drusilla was going to cloud every moment she spent with Spike. She had to stand up and fight for him, even if it quite likely meant that he was going to find the two of them rolling around on the floor, scratching each other's eyes out. She was shaking as she did it, but she managed to slide out of the bed and take the quilt with her, so she at least had a modicum of decency. She shouldered Drusilla out of the way and turned to face her. She was quite a few inches shorter than Dru, and for a few moments she thought her courage was going to fail her, but the image of Spike, and what they'd been doing for the last few hours spurred her on. Dru opened her mouth to speak again but Buffy got in first.

"It's my turn, I think." All the honey had gone from her voice. Now it was pure steel. "Just who the hell do you think you are talking to? No, don't you dare interrupt me. I am the person that emptied a whole mall, by setting off the fire alarm because my dad wouldn't buy me the doll I wanted. They had to mobilise a whole division of Canadian Mounties to find me when I ran away from summer camp, and -I haven't finished yet - I once ate an entire birthday cake, just so my cousins couldn't have any. So don't think you've come anywhere near to scaring me." She had to stop because she needed to take a breather. And, she was pleased to see that Drusilla had actually taken a step back.

"So, you, are going to give me that key," Buffy had just spotted it in Dru's hand. "And you are going to leave me and Spike alone." She held out her hand, wondering what kind of idiot she was going to look like if Dru didn't hand it over. Would she have to fight her for it after all?

Dru looked at her, dumb-struck for a few seconds, then she burst into a high pitched laugh. The keys flew across the room, missing Buffy's head by inches, and then her shoulders sort of slumped. "He used to love me, you know." She looked around the room, as if she was remembering. "He wants to stay friends. They always do, don't they? Want the best of it all, men do." She looked at Buffy again. "We'll never just be friends. Me and Spike, we're like that." She crossed her fingers. "I've got his soul, little one. You'll never have it."

Buffy almost felt sorry for her. She was, after all, fighting for the same thing she was. "You'd better go Drusilla," she said it gently this time. The girl obviously needed help. "Spike'll be back soon, you won't want to be running into him."

"You going to tell him I've been here?"

Buffy thought about that. Spike didn't need to know about this, it would only cause more trouble. This one, she was going to handle by herself. "No. I won't."

Drusilla walked through to the front door. Buffy watched her, still blazing inside from the confrontation. "I just want to make him happy," she called out after her. Wondering why she felt she had to justify this. "He deserves to be happy."

Dru didn't give any indication that she'd heard. The front door slammed and Buffy slumped down on the bed. She'd forgotten what a tiger she could be when she was on the defensive. For a few moments, in that confrontation with Dru, she had been the little girl who never, ever gave up, until she got her own way. Convent school had knocked that out of her, but it was nice to know it was still there when she needed it. Spike wasn't a bone to be fought over, but she was damned if she was going to let Drusilla intimidate her into running away.

Buffy climbed back into bed as she heard the front door open and close once more. Large amounts of adrenaline were still pumping through her. Every nerve ending tingled. She'd almost forgotten what Spike had gone out to buy. But not quite. As he walked into the bedroom she knelt up, letting the quilt fall away, and held out her arms. "Hello lover." The honey-voice was back, only this time a little bit of the steel remained. You could be strong, or you could be weak. Nothing new in that. Only now, she realised that she genuinely had a choice. Spike had told her to take control, and she was. And it felt good.

They didn't break eye contact once as he walked across the bedroom, and put down his package. She knelt up to meet him, as he sat down on the bed, and pressed her lips to his. Her hands went to his shirt buttons and his slid around her bare back.

"Come to back bed, Spike," she whispered between kisses. "I missed you."

Chapter 15

She was different. Spike couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but suddenly it was like the woman of his dreams had met the woman of his wildest fantasies. She was sweet and sexy, willing and in control, all at the same time. He'd expected to find her curled up in bed, waiting. A little nervous perhaps. He was a bit shaky himself. Felt like he'd been gone for ages. Starting to wonder if he'd imagined it all. But here she was. Sliding the shirt off his shoulders. Undoing the buttons on his jeans. His hands were shaking as he ripped the condom packet open, but hers weren't as she pushed the jeans down his legs. No fumbling. No hesitation. She wanted control, and bloody hell. It was exciting.

But it was all going to be over too fast. He wanted to do it slowly, carefully, but she had other ideas. She thrust her hips up sharply when he entered her, making the decision herself, how she wanted it to be. And he came in such a rush that it seemed like an eternity before he could do anything but just lie, sprawled over her, trying to breathe. Trying to come back from the amazing place she'd sent him. Trying to form some kind of coherent words, and ask her if she was okay. A moment like this called for poetry. Sweet words of endearment. But the only words he could think of were fuck and sweet Jesus and what the hell's she going to be like when she's had some practice?

----------------------------------

She'd done it. Buffy Summers was no longer a virgin. She wanted to put an ad in the New York Times. Better still, get one of those skywriters to fly over her home town and announce it to everyone. For a moment she just lay there, stroking Spike's head as he struggled to control his breathing, and savoured the moment. This was something else. More than turning eighteen, more than passing your driver's test, more than moving into your first house. Spike rolled off her, and flopped down on the pillow beside her, turning his head to give her a slightly wonky grin. She smiled back at him and brought her hand up to caress the side of his face. Her beautiful, sexy Spike who'd made her feel like no-one had ever come close to. She felt like she was flying a million miles above the earth. Dizzy with elation.

This was why it had been so important to wait. She'd never quite understood why she'd held off, when all her friends seemed to be doing it like bunnies. There'd been lots of times when she could have got it over and done with. Ticked it off on a list of things to do. But she'd always known she'd regret giving it away so casually. She'd given Spike her heart, her body, and if he didn't stop looking at her like that, he was damned well going to get her soul as well.

And then she felt her face crumpling. It was too much. All these feelings at once and she couldn't hold them. "Spike." She groped for him as the tears started to flow and felt his arms come round her and pull her close.

------------------------------

"Hey baby." Oh god, he'd hurt her. Gone barrelling in like a bloody prize stud. He should have had more control. He hadn't even asked her how she was.


"Buffy, look at me." He was too scared to ask. "Did I hurt you Buffy? Should'a been more careful, should'a..."

Her hand came over his mouth and silenced him.

"No Spike, don't ever think that." She gave a little hiccup, and wiped at the tears with her other hand. "It was just, I don't know, too wonderful. You're just..."

"Shh, baby." Spike closed his eyes tightly and let the words sink in. He hadn't hurt her. When he's seen those tears he'd nearly...

"I've just gone all, " she hiccuped again, her mouth making strange shapes as she tried to talk. I've gone all wobbly inside. Don't know why. One minute I'm up there, and then..."

"It's okay Buffy." He'd messed it up. Her first time, she'd told him it was. And he'd made a complete cock-up of it. Should have said sweet words, insisted they go slow, held her. Anything other than make her cry. The last person he'd want to make cry.

She was still shaking a little as he held on to her. And he was holding on to her. As if she'd disappear if he let go. He was holding her so tight, he was shaking too.

"Spike." Her voice was muffled by his chest. "I can't breath." A little laugh. That was good. He loosened his hold on her and checked out her face. She was smiling again, thank-god. It was a very wobbly one, but it was there. He settled her on his shoulder and pulled the quilt up round them both.

"Tell me Buffy." He wanted reassurance, but she needed to sort out her feelings too. Guessed it was different for a woman, the first time. He remembered his. Had walked around like he owned the place, for days after. It had made him feel ten feet tall, and he couldn't even remember the girl's face. Then, it hadn't been important. But it was now.

He felt her breathing calm down, and her hand coming up to his chest. Her fingers moving restlessly over his skin. She'd scared him with those tears. Maybe there'd been too much of a build up to this, and they should have waited. Sorted out their feelings. This wasn't just a fuck, he realised. This was making love. A heck of a lot harder to handle. He hadn't known it till now. Thought he knew what love was. How it felt. Well, now he knew. It felt like this.

------------------------------

"I'm just a bit overwhelmed by it all, I guess." She was feeling a lot calmer now. Didn't quite know what had come over her. "I just wanted you so much, Spike. These last few days, I've been so wound up. Guess it all just came out at once. But," she shifted herself onto her elbow so she could look at him. "You were wonderful. Is it always like this?"

"No, love, never made a girl cry in bed before."

"But it's happy crying, Spike. Anyway, you're looking at the girl who cries at television commercials. You know that one for that animal charity? Gets me every time. And that one with the cute little animals and the toilet rolls. Every time I go to Disney World, when I see Mickey Mouse, see I'm starting up again. And don't even mention Bambi."

She wiped the remnants of the tears off her face. "Are you worried I won't want to do this again?"

"Kind'a."

"Then don't be. I just need to sort this out a bit, that's all. And thanks for letting me talk. You're good at that, you know. Have to call you Saint Spike, if you get any more understanding. Do you have any faults?"

"Yeah, plenty love. You don't want to know."

No, I don't, she thought. Not right now. This was enough. Spike had let her set the pace, but she'd been too impatient. It had been his first time, of sorts. The first time with her, and she'd let her fear of Drusilla spoil it for him. That confrontation had got to her more than she'd realised. When he'd got back from the supermarket, she'd just wanted to claim him. Prove to herself that he was hers, and she was as good as Drusilla. Must have scared him to death when she'd burst out crying. He was still holding her too tightly, the muscles on his arms and shoulders bunched up. Didn't look or feel at all relaxed.

"Spike. You've got to help me in this. I know you said I could set the pace, but, you've had more experience than me. I want things - too much - sometimes. I go rushing in...

This time, he silenced her. "I get it Buffy. You did scare me with the crying, but the fu..., the love making. That was bloody amazing for me too." He picked up her hand and started kissing her fingers, one by one. "And I promise it can only get better."

"You also promised me waffles." She let out a small gasp as he bit down gently on the finger he was kissing.

"I'd rather have you."

"Waffles first. Then me?" This was majorly weird. Two minutes ago she'd wanted to wait, sort out her feelings and now she just wanted to jump his bones again?

"Okay." He let go of her hand and sat up. "You just stay there. Gonna feed you up, then..."

"You're gonna make love to me, nice and slow. Yeah?"

"Yeah." He leaned in to kiss her, but she twisted away. "Waffles first, go, now."

He swung his legs out of the bed and pulled on his jeans. Then slipped his bare feet into his shoes. "Left the bloody things in the car. Was in too much of a hurry."

"Guess we both were." She pulled the quilt back round her. The cover definitely needed changing. Perhaps she'd buy him a new one, with matching pillow cases. Ahh. There was the old Buffy back again. She hadn't changed that much if she was still able to think about interior design, when she had a semi-naked Spike sitting next to her.

-----------------------------

Spike picked up the crumpled shirt and shrugged into it, doing up the buttons as he walked out of the bedroom. They should have waited. What the hell had made him think that he could have spent the night with Buffy and not wanted to go all the way? He wasn't anything like the 'saint' that she thought he was. The last couple of days had been torture. He shook his head to clear the thoughts. It can only get better And it would. Right now, put the kettle on to boil, then get the waffles, then...what was that?


Something clinked against his shoe and he bent down to pick it up. Dru's keys. When had they got there? He used them to let himself out of the flat, and took the steps two at a time. Perhaps she'd dropped them yesterday? Surely he would have seen them? Had Dru been in the flat, spying on Buffy? Too many questions. Buffy would have told him if Dru had been there while he was out. Surely?


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Oscar Wilde. That's who he looked like. Buffy settled herself on one of the tables in the small lecture room. The professor gave her a cheery smile and she gave him a little wave back. He really had gone out of his way to make sure she'd settled into the department. More than a little motivated by her father's gift to the library, she suspected. Still, he was a nice man, and she had no idea what Oscar Wilde looked like really. Just thought he looked Oscar Wildish.


As the room began to fill, she moved over so someone could sit next to her, groaning inwardly when she saw who was making a bee-line towards her.

"Buffy." The girl hitched herself up and wriggled to get comfortable, almost pushing her off.

"Hi Anya." Buffy wriggled back, trying to reclaim her territory. "You're going on the trip?"

"Yes, isn't it exciting? Oh god, he's here." She dug Buffy in the ribs, almost pushing her off the table again. "William Giles. Isn't he dreamy?"

Buffy looked up to see Spike enter the room, carrying a stack of papers, which he plopped down on the table. She immediately felt herself colouring and looked down, then sideways at Anya. Who, she noticed was all but drooling. Anya leaned behind her and spoke in a staged whisper.

"I think he fancies me. Gonna be a verrry interesting weekend."

Buffy's eyes widened. Anya had the hots for Spike? Anya, the nosiest and most annoying student in the whole department. And she was coming on the field trip. They weren't going to get any privacy at all!

"Don't you just want to run your fingers through that hair?" Anya giggled like a five year old and Buffy had a real struggle to keep a straight face.

"I suppose so." She tried to sound non-committal, but she'd been doing just that a few hours ago. A lot more than that. He was sitting chatting with the professor, waiting for the last few students to arrive for the meeting. Looking cool, and very business-like. Nothing like the hot, sweaty body she'd showered with, just this morning. The man she'd watched putting his contacts in. Who'd almost made love to her in the car in the university car-park. Now she had to sit here and pretend he was just another person going on the field trip. Her tutor, in fact. Forbidden territory. He looked up and caught her eye. Gave her a wink. Anya jumped.

"Did you see that? He winked at me."

Buffy almost choked on the laugh she was trying to cover up. It turned into a coughing fit, which made everyone in the room turn and look at her. Including Spike, who had a mystified and slightly worried look on his face.

Buffy flapped her hand in the air as she fought for control, trying to indicate that she was okay, and that the prof should start. But she couldn't concentrate on a word he was saying. Anya was like a leech when she'd decided she was going to be your friend. If she'd got it into her head that she had any chance with Spike, they were never going to get rid of her. The prof started on the car-sharing arrangements and Buffy heard her name.

"Miss Summers, I expect you would like a lift, being new to this country." He gave her a nod. "Now who would like to volunteer their services?"

Every male in the room put their hands up. Except one. Andrew, a short, blond-haired lad, who, Buffy noticed, was also gazing lovingly at Spike.

"I'll take her." It was Spike. He said it very calmly, staring pleasantly at the group of students. One by one the hands went down, and a disappointed murmur rippled around the room. Anya's shot up.

"And me too. I don't have a car."

Buffy's head shot round to look at her.

"Neither do I." It was Andrew, being unusually assertive.

Buffy's head shot round the other way to look at him. Perhaps if they chopped Spike into little pieces they could all have a bit? At this rate there wasn't going to be any romantic weekend at all. They were going to have to spend the whole weekend hiding from Spike's fan club.

The prof nodded in agreement and finished organising the rest of the group. Anya talked all the way through Spike's bit, so Buffy didn't get to hear any of it. Then she insisted that Buffy have lunch with her, during which she spent the whole time planning her 'Seduction of Spike', as she called it. When Buffy finally got away, she was almost late for the appointment she'd made. She checked her watch and hurried across the campus to the University medical centre. And that was where she finally caught up with Willow.

---------------------------------

She checked in at the desk and sat down by her friend. "Willow, are you sick?" She scanned her friend's face, but she didn't look particularly ill. In fact she was positively glowing.

Willow looked equally concerned for her. "I'm fine, Buffy, how are you?"

"Fine." Buffy sat herself down next to Willow, wondering what she was doing here if she wasn't sick. They both sat in silence for a moment, then Willow picked up a magazine and held it in front of her face.

"I'm going on the pill."

Buffy sat, stunned for a moment, then picked up a magazine of her own. "So am I."

Now it was Willow's turn. They both stared at each other for a moment, hidden behind their magazines, then Buffy started giggling. "So, have you done the dirty deed yet?"

Willow looked positively radiant. "Oh Buffy. It was just so perfect. The first time, well I just seemed to know what to do. It was absolutely amazing, right from the word go. We spent the whole day in bed, you know, just laughing and well, you know. I'm so happy Buffy."

She gave a little nod, indicating it was Buffy's turn to spill.

Buffy just stared back at her friend. It had been perfect from the word go? Shy, nerdy, Willow and disaster-date Xander had made perfect love from the word go? And she'd managed to make Spike think that he'd hurt her. She felt a totally uncharitable twinge of jealousy, and immediately squashed it flat. They'd more than made up for it over the course of the day, and Spike had told her over and over that it was okay. She was okay. But the spectre of her little emotional collapse wouldn't leave her alone. She'd kept re-playing it in her mind. Wishing she could turn back the clock and start again. Do it differently.

Willow was still looking at her, expectantly.

"Yeah." Buffy managed a smile. "Like you said. Right from the word go. Perfect."

"You were right Buffy. You do have to make things happen. If you hadn't dragged me to that club, you wouldn't have met Spike and I wouldn't have met Xander. Oh, how did it go with Dru?"

"Finished, but Willow, she turned up."


Willow's eyes widened. "Not while you were..."

"No, but she nearly did. There's something about her Will. I don't think she'd going to give him up that easily."

"But Spike told her to go, yeah?"

"Spike wasn't there. He'd gone...shopping. He doesn't know, Will."

"But you're going to tell him right? Buffy, you can't keep that from him."

"I don't know. Maybe. Does Xander know, you know, about me and Spike?"

"No. Haven't said a word. Do you want me to?"

"No. Not yet. Oh crap."

Willow looked round, "What?"

"By the door. Look who's just come in."

"Oh no."

Willow sank down in her chair, bringing the magazine right up to her face. Buffy did the same. They both cowered there for a moment, trying not to laugh or be seen. Then a hand came over the top of the magazines and pushed them down.

"Ha. Thought it was you two."

They both stared up into Anya's face, as she stared triumphantly down at them.

"So, you're both sick?"

Willow and Buffy nodded in unison, both still in their cowering-from-Anya positions.

"You too?" Buffy managed to speak.

"Oh no, right-as-rain. I'm here for other reasons." She winked and nodded her head knowingly.

Buffy sank even lower in her chair. And watched Anya bounce perkily to the desk to check in. Other reasons?

Willow lifted her magazine again and raised her eyebrows. "Anya has a boyfriend? Oh-my-god. Can you just imagine what he looks like?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied, all hopes of being alone with Spike for even five minutes next weekend flying out of the window. "I can."

--------------------------------

Spike sat on a bench in the courtyard outside the medical centre, waiting for Buffy. He'd offered to go in with her, but had been mighty glad when she'd refused him. Doctor's waiting rooms - not his idea of fun. This was the most sensible option, he supposed. Didn't like condoms, although in the light of what he suspected, he was glad he'd had to use them with Dru. Pill hadn't suited her she'd said. Couldn't remember when they'd used the last one up, though It had been that long since they'd slept together.

And Buffy had absolutely insisted on doing this, today. He smiled to himself. Buffy was one determined cookie, when she wanted to be. She must have given her parents hell, growing up. And the nuns. He wished he could have seen that.

He stood up to greet her as she came out. Feeling the familiar stirring down below that he seemed to be getting every time he set eyes on her. Just as well she was going on the pill. Condoms required a certain amount of forethought and planning and the way he was feeling...well, he could imagine more than a few spontaneous moments in the near future, and the last thing he wanted was to get Buffy pregnant.

He was imagining one right now. She looked kind of shy as she came towards him. She did that. Just for a split second, every time they were apart. That coy, sideways look. As if she wanted reassurance that what they were doing was real. He grabbed her, and lifted her off her feet. Kissed her. Forgetting that it was him that insisted they be careful about being seen. Wondered if she'd come back to his little closet-like study with him. Wondered where the nearest men's toilets with a condom machine was. Her legs were creeping round his waist. His hands, hitching her up by her bottom.

Someone whistled, and she slid down him, burying her head in his chest. Giggling with embarrassment. They weren't going to make it, at this rate. He took her hand and almost dragged her across the courtyard. Into the building. Taking the stairs two at a time. No-one about. Stopping at the top for another, out-of-breath kiss. Pushing her through the door of his tiny office. Kissing her again. Fumbling in his pocket for change, as he deposited her on the desk.

"Back in two secs. Buff." He had to peel her off him. Leaving her sitting there with a dazed look on her face, as he desperately tried to remember where the nearest men's bathroom was. He took the stairs again, coat flying behind him, turned the corner and banged straight into someone coming the other way. It took a moment to register who it was.

"Xander?" Not now please. The computer game was the last thing on his mind. He tried to side-step him, but Xander moved with him, blocking his way. "Can't stop man. Catch you later." He side-stepped again, but Xander wasn't giving way. Christ, he hadn't seen them had he?

"What's up Xander?" He didn't really need to ask. The look of cold anger on his friend's face, told him everything he needed to know. Spike held up his hands, palms forwards. "It's not what you think."

Xander, folded his arms, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Okay Spike. My best buddy. My pal. You're the one with the words. Explain it to me. Feeling a bit dim today. Just why were you and Buffy practically shagging in the courtyard? When you are supposed to be going out with my sister?

Chapter 16

Willow left the medical centre just in time to see Xander disappearing into one of the buildings at the end of the courtyard. She called after him, but he showed no sign of having heard. Just kept on walking. Hitching her bag full of books onto her shoulder, she hurried after him. This was one bit of news she wanted to share straight away. Boy, was this going to put a smile on his face.

-----------------------------

Buffy leaned back onto her elbows and looked around Spike’s study. He was one messy puppy, she decided. Stacks of stuff everywhere. Files, books, papers. Dirty mugs, empty cigarette packets. He very obviously wasn’t much with the housekeeping. She wondered whether she ought to have a quick tidy up for him. No, that was so old Buffy, she decided. She leaned right back so she was lying down, staring at the ceiling, legs swinging over the side of the desk. New Buffy would lie here, spread across the papers and half-written notes, and wait for her lover to return.

Ten minutes later, she was still waiting. Where on earth was he?

-----------------------------

Spike sat on one side of the stairwell, Xander on the other. Their positions were a mirror image of the other. Elbows on knees, hands hanging loosely in between. Heads bowed. Spike, for once, was at a loss for words. How did he explain this to Xander? There was no rational explanation for what was happening. You saw someone, fell in love, then moved hell and high water to be with them. Regardless of who you hurt? You swept your old life aside to make room for the new one. Wasn’t that how it worked? You couldn’t have it all. There was always a price, and his friendship with Xander? Well, that had always been in the mix. From the moment he’d set eyes on Buffy, this had been going to happen. No-one had to like it though.

He raised his head slightly, and looked at his friend. Not just his friend, his best friend. The blue folder dangled from his hands. A couple of months hard work. Xander, the computer buff, Spike, the creative genius. They had a good thing going. Work partners, best mates. And right now it was all hanging in the balance.

---------------------------

Xander looked fixedly at his shoes. Dru. What the hell was going to happen with her now? Spike had been good for her. The one thing grounding her. When she found out about this, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. God know what she’d do. He let the folder drop, wondering what the point was any more. How could he trust Spike after this? He’d let him make an ass-hole of himself on that date with Buffy. God, that must have given them both a good laugh. Bloody Spike. Wasn’t one woman enough for him? He always had to have a bloody harem following him around. And Dru, sitting at home, all dolled up, waiting for her boyfriend. Whatever she’d done, she deserved better than this. Spike could have at least had the decency to do this properly. The bastard.

--------------------------

The smile on Willow’s face faded as she looked first at Xander, then at Spike. Oh my god. Her first thought was of Buffy. Something’s happened to her. Then she realised it was Buffy - but not in the way she’d first thought. He’d found out. The thing they’d all been carefully keeping from him. And she’d been a part of the deception. He would have realised straight away that she must have known. She sat down quietly beside him, offering comfort, but not knowing whether he’d want it from her now. He didn’t acknowledge her. She wanted to put her arms around him, but she didn’t dare. Not until he gave her permission. The prescription burned a hole in her pocket. It didn’t seem important any more. The only thing that was important right now was Xander. And would he forgive them?

----------------------------

Buffy checked out her watch for the twentieth time. Where on earth had he got to? Maybe the prof had cornered him somewhere and wouldn’t let him go? She blew out a long breath and swung herself up, thinking she might go and find him. Realised she should probably stay put. God, she’d been hot for him. But where the hell was he?

She got up and rubbed the back of her neck. Picked up one of his papers. A half-finished poem. Was it about her? No. She let it drop. Wandered about the small space idly plucking at books. Wondering if she had time to leave him a love-note in his desk drawer. Deciding she had. Opening the drawer, finding the photograph.

Spike and Dru. At a fun-fair, it looked like. Both pulling funny faces at the camera. They looked happy. She put the photo back and shut the drawer. Time to find him. It was getting late, anyway and their spontaneous moment seemed to have passed. She picked up his keys and locked the door after her. Which way, corridor or stairs? She decided on stairs and almost tripped over them as she ran down. Spike, Xander and Willow. Looking like they’d just been to a funeral. What the heck was going on?

“Oh, here you are."

Xander flashed her a brief look. Not his usual cheery grin. Willow gave her a watery smile, and Spike didn’t look up at all. Just held out his arm to her. She sat down next to him and he pulled her in, his hand gently squeezing her arm.

“So," she said looking round. "What’s up?”

Xander looked up again, this time looking her squarely in the eye. “I thought you might be able to answer that.”

“Me, why should...Spike?”

He ran his free hand through his hair. “He saw us Buff, outside.”

“Oh.” It was all she could think of to say. Yes, he had a right to feel slightly annoyed that Spike had chucked Dru for her, but they weren’t doing anything wrong. Had gone well out of their way to do this properly. Then it dawned on her. She’d told Willow that Dru wouldn’t give up that easily. Maybe she wasn’t.

“Xander, what’s Dru been saying?”

“Not a lot. Mostly crying, really.”

He was still staring at her. Resentment, that’s what it was. “Look,” she was choosing her words carefully. "I can understand that you might be a bit upset...”

“A bit? Are you for real? My sister, my sis...” He shook his head and closed his eyes, then tried again. "My sister is waiting at home for him and what do I see? You two practically having it off, in front of everyone out there. How long has this been going on?”

Buffy looked at Spike. He didn’t seem in any hurry at all to join in with their defence. “Spike, tell him.”

“What’s the point? He’s already got me pegged as the bad guy. Come on Buff, we’re going.”

He started to stand up, but she pulled him back down. “No, Spike, you can’t just run away from this. You two have to talk, sort this out. “ Spike was still pulling away from her but she had him anchored by a handful of his coat. He could have broken free at any time, but thankfully he didn’t. She saw the blue folder lying on the floor. There was more at stake here than a friendship. And poor Willow looked terrified. No-one seemed to be taking any notice of her at all.

She felt Spike relax a bit as he sat back down. Good. Neither of them was leaving here until they’d had this out, she decided. Drusilla, much as she felt sorry for her, was not going to spoil the best thing that had ever happened to the four of them. She wriggled out of Spike’s hold and handed him his study keys.

“Here.” He didn’t take them at first, looked slightly mystified, so she took his hand and folded them into it. “You two are going upstairs, and you are going to sort this out. Me and Willow, we’ll be waiting here.” She nodded encouragement at Spike, who was giving her a strange look. Perhaps it was too early in their relationship to be bossing him about like this. Perhaps he wouldn’t go, and she’d be left here looking stupid. But, spoilt rich kid that she was, if she walked away with him now - and that would be by far the easiest option - it would be the most selfish thing she’d ever done.

He stared at the keys for a few moments, pushed himself up, patting her shoulder as he did so, then started up the stairs. For a moment she thought Xander wasn’t going to follow, but to her relief, he got to his feet at last. He grabbed Willow’s hand, pulled her up and planted a hard kiss on her lips. He was gone before she had a chance to react, following Spike up the stairs and leaving them alone.

Willow put her hands to her lips, her eyes wide and bright with unshed tears. Buffy stood up, pulling her into a hug and they clung to each other. Dru wasn’t going to spoil this. What the hell had she been telling Xander? Buffy suddenly didn’t feel sorry for her at all. Dru was a manipulative bitch. Their one meeting had been enough to show her that. And if she thought there was anything that she could do that would make her walk away from Spike now, then she was wrong. So wrong.

----------------------------------

“Okay, who’s going first?” Spike sat himself down on the corner of his desk and indicated the chair to Xander.

“I’ll stand.” Xander remained stubbornly by the door.

“For god’s sake, sit down.” Spike pulled out his cigarette packet and lighter. Never gonna give up at this rate. “Last thing I need now is the poor little hard-done-by Xander act.”

“Oh, that’s right. Make fun. Bloody hobby of yours, right? Let’s all laugh at Xander. Hey, let’s just shag right under his nose. He won’t notice.”

Spike thought about the cigarettes, then threw them down on the desk. “You finished?”

Xander just glared at him, his face still slightly red from his outburst.

“Okay, this is how it is. Me and..."

“Dru’s at home waiting for you. Do you know what this is going to do to her?”

“Will you let me finish?” Spike was hanging onto his temper by a thread, but he knew that if he messed this up now, there’d be no going back. Xander could be stubborn as hell when he wanted to be, and he had the added complication of family loyalty to contend with. He tried again, more calmly this time. “Make up your mind. Am I talking, or you?”

Xander grudgingly stomped over to the chair and sat down. He waved his hand indicating that Spike should continue.

“Right. This thing with Buffy. It just happened. Wasn’t planned this way. But we moved hell and high water to do this properly. Drusilla and me are finished. Been finished a long time. You know that Xander.”

Xander shook his head. “Then why’s she waiting at home for you right now? Just come from there, and she’s screaming the place down. Mum’s crying. Dad’s disappeared into his shed and won’t come out. It’s like a bloody mad-house.”

“It’s finished Xan. Not my fault if she didn’t hear it.” It felt a bit cold saying it like that, but it was the truth and needed saying.

"But how...?" Xander ran a hand through his hair. "She would have said..."

"Would she? You know what she's like Xan." Spike chose his words carefully. Xander needed to hear this, probably wouldn't be surprised. But it would hurt him all the same. "I finished with Dru. Spelled it out to her. And no, she didn't take it well, but I left her with your mum and dad and...I want to move on with my life Xan. She's in with a bad bunch. There's this guy, Johnny. He gives her stuff." Spike didn't think Xander needed to know the whole sordid details. But he did need to know what Dru was up to. For all their sakes. He continued. "Like I said, Buffy and me, we both tried our best to do this properly."

“But she needs you Spike.” Xander’s face was crumpling. “You were the best thing that happened to her. You know what she was like before. If she goes there again...she’s not coming back.”

Spike should have felt sorry for him, but instead all he felt was anger that they were still trying to dump the solution to Dru’s woes on him.

“I am not the answer to Dru’s problems. I am not her salvation, and I won’t be held responsible for what happens to her. You know I did what I could, right?”

Xander didn’t answer.

“Right? Answer me Xan. Yeah, me and Dru were happy once, but she was always going this way. I’ll help in any way I can, but I’m not being emotionally blackmailed by you or your family. That’s what this is Xan. If anything happens to Dru, it won’t be my fault. Just like it won’t be yours, or your mum and Dad’s. We’ve all done what we could. God help her.” The cigarettes suddenly looked damned inviting. Spike lit one up, savoured the calming effect of the first drag, flicked the ash into a dirty mug.

“No-one’s laughing at you Xan. Do you know what it took for me to set that date up with Buffy for you? I was willing to stand back and let that happen. Gotta give me some points for that.”

“Oh yeah.” Xander picked up one of Spike’s papers and stared at it. “You’re a right saint, aren’t you?” He threw it back down on the desk. “But you knew you had nothing to worry about, right? Knew we wouldn’t last the one date.”

“Is that what this is about? You still fancy Buffy?”

“What? No! Christ Spike, how could you think that?”

“Well, you just virtually said it.”

“I bloody well did not.”

“Good, just checking. ‘Cause if you did, well, then we’d have to do the whole manly, fighting thing and...” Spike touched the scar on his eye and gave a small laugh. “Well, I just did that.”

Xander pulled a face, which turned into something vaguely resembling a smile. “You never did know when to back off.”

“What, and you never beat seven types of shit out of me virtually every day when we were at school?”

“Yeah, well you were such a poncy bugger.”

“Happy days eh? Wanna ask you something Xan.”

“Yeah, well I’m not sure I wanna answer.”

Spike felt himself relaxing. God that had been hard, but he could tell that Xander was coming back. Whatever shit he’d come in with, he’d worked through it. He envied him that. Xander was stubborn, but he was also incredibly resilient. He always seemed to bounce back from whatever life threw at him, pick himself up and move on. Spike was counting on that now.

“If I asked you to give up Willow, would you?”

Xander looked a little confused. “Why should I...you don’t...”

“Cool it man. I don’t have the hots for her. It’s just a question. Would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Xander sounded very sure of himself on that one. “Can’t think of a single reason would make me give her up.”

“Then put yourself in my shoes, Xan. Would you give up Willow to stay with Dru?”

Xander stood up. “Okay, you clever sod, you got me there. This is the bit where I say yeah, Dru’s a loony and you’re better off out of it. Can’t blame you for wanting Buffy instead. But I’m into this conflicted family loyalty crap and you can’t blame me for shooting my mouth off about it sometimes. Does that cover everything?”

Spike stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. “Pretty much.” He indicated the door. “Shall we?”

------------------------------

Buffy went in search of a coffee machine and came back with two cups. She handed one to Willow and settled down opposite her.

“Do you think they’ll talk, Buffy, ‘cause men aren’t big with the talking are they?

“Cheer up Will. Spike is very big with the talking. If any-one can sort Xander out, it’s him.”

They both sipped their coffee in silence for a moment.

“He looked so angry Buffy. Didn’t even seem to know I was there.”

“And that kiss wasn’t straight out of a romantic novel? Don’t worry Will. He wouldn’t have done that if he was going to dump you.”

“You think he might dump me?” Willow’s eyes went very wide. “Buffy, I couldn’t bear it if he did.”

“Calm down, will you?” What a stupid thing to say. “He’s not gonna dump you. It’s pretty clear he’s mad about you.”

“You think?”

“Well, yeah, duh.”

“And you and Spike, you looked really, together.”

“I guess so. And this is worth fighting for Willow. I’m not letting Dru spoil this for any of us.”

They lapsed into silence again as a troop of students made their way down the stairs past them.

Buffy picked up the folder that was still lying where it had fallen. She opened it and peeked inside.

They were all there. Neatly sketched out, the characters for the new game. Spike the vampire, Willow the witch, Xander the fearless vampire hunter and Buffy the maiden in distress. She slid the paper back in, a lump forming in her throat. She'd been in England so short a time, and already there were things here more valuable, and precious than anything back home. Even her dad, as central to her life as he'd always been, was someone she was learning to live without as she found herself really growing up.

“So you’re sure he won’t want to dump me?”

“Calm down Willow, any minute now they’re going to walk down these stairs, all best buddies and all sorted, and...oh god, they’re coming. Smiley face, quick!”

Buffy managed a tentative smile, Willow, a very wobbly one.

“How does he look Buffy?”

“He looks...”

Xander swept past her, walked up to Willow and picked her up. She gave a little squeal as he spun round and carried her off towards the exit.

“Like he’s just stepped out of that romantic novel,” Buffy finished. Then she spotted Willow’s bag full of books. “Wait...”

“I don’t think they’re going to be wanting that.” It was Spike. “Got other things on his mind, I think.”

“Spike.” Buffy spun round and flung herself on him, nearly knocking them both over in the process. Spike grabbed her round the waist, and pulled her in for a kiss.

“Isn’t this where we came in?”

Buffy kissed him back, her heart flooding with relief. Xander and Willow seemed okay, and Spike wouldn’t be smiling if it hadn’t gone well. Would he?

“Spike,” she managed between kisses. “How did it go with Xander?”

“He’s cool.” Spike was lifting up her hair and placing light kisses on her neck. “Let’s go home.”

Buffy wriggled as he hit a sensitive spot. “Cool as in okay?”

“Yeah, no problem, god I want you Buffy.”

“As in problem solved?”

“I want you so much, it hurts. Let’s go.” He took her hand and pulled her down the corridor after him.

“Did you tell him you finished with Dru?” Buffy suddenly remembered Willow’s bag, and broke free, running back for it. Spike grabbed her again as she ran back to him and guided her through the doors.

“Have to be my place, never make it to yours.”

Buffy was having to run to keep up with him. “What do you think Dru will do?”

“No idea, where are the bloody keys?” He searched his pockets, found them and unlocked the car. “You make me so bloody hot, Buffy, do you know that?”

“Yeah, I was beginning to get that impression.” She shimmied into the car, all thoughts of Dru evaporating with the look he was giving her. “What’s with the caveman stuff, Spike?” She leaned forward suggestively. “I like it.”

He hooked a hand around the back of her head and pulled her in for another mind-blowing kiss. Buffy forgot about Dru completely. They both had adrenaline to burn off, and what better way to do it than this?

“Let’s go to my place,” she whispered. “Gotta Jacuzzi.”

She nearly laughed out loud at the look he gave her.

“Condoms.” He was definitely having trouble breathing. “They’re at my place.”

“We can stop off.”

He nodded and strapped himself into his seat belt. “Bloody hell Buffy, if I had one on me now, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.”

“In the middle of a car park?” Buffy tried to sound scandalised, but she was finding the idea more than a little thrilling.

Spike started up the engine. “Didn’t stop those two.”

“Who, oh-my-god.” Buffy’s hand went over her mouth as she realised which car he was pointing to.

“Yeah,” Spike grinned broadly as he manoeuvred the car out of the space. “Looks like the Love Machine got christened at last.”

Chapter 17


“Ta-Da.” Buffy flung back her bathroom door and ushered Spike inside. “So, what do you think?”

“Whoa,” Spike stepped inside and looked around. “Talk about bathrooms of the stars.”

“You like?”

“Yeah, I like.” He sidled up behind her and placed a hand on each side of her waist, his thumbs making little circular motions, moving higher. Taking her tee shirt with them. “How about we take that Jacuzzi for a test drive.”

Buffy leaned back against him for a moment, savouring the feel of his hands on her bare skin. Remembering what those hands were capable of, how they made her want to melt under their heat. “Yeah,” she gasped as they reached the sides of her breasts. “But we’re gonna do this properly.”

“We are love.” He was tugging the tee shirt in earnest now, impatience making him clumsy. “Lift your arms, sweetheart, you’re wearing too many clothes.” His voice had already dropped a few notches, taking on a passion - roughened edge that made her shiver with anticipation.

Still, she managed to push him away. “Not yet Spike. I gotta plan.”

“You do? Come back here, you minx.” He made another grab at her, but she skipped out of reach.

“No you don’t, I’m in charge tonight.”

That stopped him in his tracks. He stepped towards her and sucked on his bottom lip for a moment as he thought about it, his finger tracing a lazy pattern over the front of her tee shirt. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She tossed her hair back, hoping it made her look sultry, yet available. “Always wanted to do the Jacuzzi thing. You know, like in the movies.”

Spike was still watching his fingers moving over her breasts. “Keep talking Buffy, you’ve got my attention.”

“Well, I, uhh, oh god Spike.” She leaned right into him, so that her breast filled his hand. At this rate they weren’t going to get very far with her plan at all. It wasn’t so much of a plan really. She hadn’t meant for this to happen tonight, but she’d seen enough films, read enough books to know how much fun there was to be had with a Jacuzzi. She’d fantasised about it often enough and now she wanted the whole show. Champagne, bubbles, soft music and of course a sexy hunk. She removed his hand, earning herself one of his disappointed looks. She loved it when he did that. All pouty bottom lip and puppy dog eyes. Still, this needed a certain amount of setting up. There was a lot to be said for spontaneous sex. That was a lesson she was learning fast. But planning and organising were what she was good at. And this was going to be good.

“Now, Spike, you’ll have to go to the supermarket. I don’t think I have any champagne, and we’ll need to get sexy food...what?”

Spike’s face was a picture. “You want me to go shopping?”

“Well, yeah. I’ll be busy here, setting up. Got to do this right.”

“Buffy, I can hardly walk here.” He took her hand and showed her just what he was talking about. “This is cruel and unusual punishment, you know that.”

Buffy thought about it for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of him. Loving the way his facial expressions changed, and feeling just a teensy bit guilty. He didn’t look very comfortable at all. But she wasn’t relenting. This was fantasy-come-true-time, and the first time she’d had the requisite hunk to do it with. She traced his bottom lip with her finger.

“Oh, please Spike? It’ll be worth it.”

“Okay, but on one condition.”

“What’s that, eek.” She gave a shriek as Spike scooped her off her feet, and marched back into the bedroom with her. He plopped her down onto the bed and started stripping off his tee shirt.

One look at his naked chest and she’d got the idea. He looked at her apologetically. “Sorry love, gotta get this out of the way first.” He stopped with the tee shirt half way off. “Yeah?”

At that moment Buffy felt like the most powerful woman on earth. She knew that if she said no now he would bite his own leg off rather than continue. But she wasn’t going to say no. This could be part of the fantasy too. She nodded ever so slightly and the tee shirt came all the way off. Within five minutes both sets of clothes were strewn about the bed and floor and Buffy had at last learned the true meaning of the expression ‘quickie.’

---------------------------------

Spike lay, half sprawled on her getting his breath back.

“Now, get some good champagne, not the rubbish - I’m paying, don’t argue. I want to do this. And some sexy food. What do you think? Asparagus?”

He lowered his head to her chest. “Asparagus? You’re something else, you know that?”

He felt Buffy’s hand in his hair. “So you keep telling me.”

His whole body relaxed under her ministrations. If she hadn’t said yes, he would have had to go off to the bathroom by himself, he was that desperate. Not his preferred option. But she’d got him so hot, so excited, that she had no idea. At least now he could pace himself, and he was looking forward to her little fantasy evening. “How do you do that?”

“What this? She threaded her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, that, that’s nice. And the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“The multi-tasking. I’m lying here with bloody cherubs flying around my head. There’s a hundred piece orchestra, violins, the lot, and you’re making a shopping list.” He lifted his head to look at her, his breathing calming down at last. She looked a little concerned.

“Oh, Spike, I wasn’t, you know while we were...”

“Calm down love, joking here. You’ve got to get with the English sense of humour. I love it Buff. I love everything about you.”

He could see she was holding her breath, wondering if she’d heard him right. He hadn’t quite said he loved her, but it wouldn’t be long, he realised. “Hey, come with me. I’m bound to buy the wrong brand of asparagus or something.”

“All right. How about we take my car? You can drive.”

“Can I?” Spike was off her like a shot, picking up his jeans and pulling them on. “Sex, fast cars, Jacuzzis, you sure know the way to a man’s heart.” He stopped and looked at her, lying on her back, her arms flung wide, smiling lazily. “What are you waiting for woman? Get dressed.” “Changed my mind,” she pouted. “ Got no energy left.”

“Hey, part of the fantasy, remember?” He picked up her tee shirt and contemplated it before dropping it onto her face. “You got anything better than this to wear?”

She moved it down so that just her eyes were showing. “Might have.”

He folded his arms and waited. “Well?”

“Reckon I’ll surprise you.” Buffy rolled onto her stomach and leaned her chin on her hands. “Gonna watch you getting dressed, then you can get the car out and wait for me.”

Spike picked up his tee shirt and pulled it over his head, smoothing it down slowly over his body. Letting her enjoy the show. He half contemplated putting a condom into the pocket of his jeans. When she looked at him like that, he just wanted to throw her down onto the bed and have his wicked way with her, over and over. God knew if they were going to make it to the supermarket without a detour. He decided against it though. Didn’t want to push his luck. She was still watching him appreciatively as he buckled his belt.

“Go get the car, Spike. Keys are in the hall table drawer. I’ll be two minutes.”

“I’m gone.” He stopped for a last kiss. “Don’t be long.”

“I won’t be.” She blew him another kiss. “This is a shopping trip you’re going to remember for a long time,” she thought.

---------------------------------


Buffy jumped up as soon as Spike left the room. She opened her wardrobe and took out the naughty leather top. It seemed appropriate. Well, not actually appropriate for supermarket shopping, but this was what had brought them together. If she hadn’t got Angelus all fired up, he never would have come after her, and Spike wouldn’t have had to rescue her from him. That night she’d wanted the earth to swallow her up. Little did she know then that it would lead to this. Or that the next time she’d wear the thing would be to the supermarket, of all places.

She pulled it on, teaming it with a lacy thong. Over the top she slipped on a pair of clean jeans and a zip up fleece. Trainers finished the ensemble. She didn’t want to give the game away too soon. Then she jumped as the car horn sounded, and ran down the stairs. As she locked the door behind her, she caught a glimpse of Spike’s mystified expression. Not what he’d been expecting, obviously. He looked her up and down as he put the car into reverse.

“You look, er um, nice.”

“Why, thank you Spike.” She put on her best impression of a southern USA accent, earning herself another strange look.

“Did I miss something here?”

“No.” She was having a lot of trouble keeping a straight face. Had never been good with secrets, and this one was so delicious. She wondered when the best time to reveal what she was wearing would be. Not while he was holding anything breakable, obviously. And of course, she didn’t want to flash the whole supermarket. They probably had laws about that sort of thing.

They listened to music, neither of them speaking, during the short drive to the shop. Spike, she noticed, kept giving her little sideways glances. It was as if he knew something was up, but couldn’t quite fathom it. She spent most of the time looking out of the window, and chewing her lip, she was so sure she was going to burst out laughing. This was going to be so much fun.

------------------------------


Spike collected a shopping cart and joined Buffy. Something was up. Her mood had changed just slightly. She was a little too hyper. He wanted to think it was because she was all wound up with the thought of what they were going to do later. But he didn’t think it was that. She was up to something. He could read it all over her face. But what was with the clothes? He’d fully expected her to surprise him, and she had. Not in the way he’d thought though. He was hoping for a skirt, at least. She had such fabulous legs. He’d be seeing them soon, he supposed, following her through the revolving door. Now, what the hell did sexy food look like?


--------------------------


“You’re a poet, and you can’t think of any sexy food? Shame on you” Buffy picked up a melon. “What about this?”

“Too messy.”

Buffy popped it in the cart. “Messy is good. Gonna pick up some whipped cream later.” She sashayed off, leaving him standing. His eyes wide, his mouth open. He snapped it shut and shook his head, then hurried after her. “Wait up Buffy. How about grapes?”

Buffy winked at him. “Catching on fast. You sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Nope. Do you really want asparagus?”

“No, not really.” They turned into the confectionery aisle. Chocolate would be good. And, she noticed, it was deserted. Time to put her plan into action. She grabbed at her zipper and made a show of trying to open it. “Spike, my zipper’s stuck, would you help me?”

“What?” Spike put down the box of chocolates he was looking at. “Here, gotta give it a big...whoa!”

The zipper went down and Spike’s eyes nearly popped right out of his head.

Buffy batted her eyelashes at him. “Something wrong, Spike?”

“Why you little...” Spike’s eyes were locked squarely on her chest. “You realise we’ve got to go straight home right now, don’t you?”

“But we haven’t finished our shopping yet Spike. Now, which chocolate do you like?”

“Sod the chocolate. I want you, lets go...” He suddenly made a grab at the fleece, holding it closed as an elderly couple walked by.

The old man winked at Spike, a broad grin on his face. “Need any help there, mate. I’m a lot younger than I look.”

The old woman gave them a vaguely scandalised look dragging her husband away, as Spike stood himself in front of Buffy, trying to shield her from them.

His face was slightly pink as he turned round. “Let’s do this up again before someone has a heart attack, eh.” He closed the zipper and slid it right up to her neck. “There, that’s better. Don’t want the whole store looking, do we?”

“Except you of course.” Buffy chose a box of chocolates and handed them to him. “Do you like these?”

Spike tossed them into the cart without even looking at them. “Damned right except me. That is for my eyes alone young lady.”

“Ooh, Spike, I think that car’s gone to your head.” Buffy walked off again, feeling well pleased with herself. This was a side of Spike she hadn’t seen until this afternoon. Caveman Spike. All protective and macho. He’d been like a boy with a toy driving her car. She hadn’t missed the smug little smirk he’d been trying to keep off his face. Or the ease with which he’d handled the vehicle.

The last time he’d had to protect her she’d been the damsel in distress, and he’d failed miserably at the macho bit. If Angelus had been seriously going to attack her, then Spike lying on the ground with a broken head would have been no use to her at all. This sort of thing was important to men, she supposed. And to tell the truth, she liked this protective vibe he was sending out. It was strange. Instead of making her feel helpless, it actually made her feel powerful. There is was again. That word. She tried not to overanalyse it, something she tended to do, but it was nice knowing that she made Spike feel all manly. And god knows, he made her feel more like a woman than she’d ever felt before. All of a sudden she wanted to go home too.


--------------------------------


Spike sleep-walked through the rest of the shopping. All he could think about was how she’d looked when she’d opened that fleece. And how he’d reacted. Why didn’t he just club her over the head and drag her home by her hair? She had every right to wear what she liked, when she liked. And she probably would too. But he’d sounded like a macho jerk. And he’d never been like this with Drusilla. She’d always taken a delight in wearing outrageous clothes and he’d been proud to show her off. Hadn’t cared who’d looked. Then why not Buffy?

He reached for his wallet when they got to the checkout, but she pushed it away. She wanted to pay? Fine. He could do caveman, and new-man. Pretty soon, he’d be doing willing slave, he reckoned. No, he was doing that already. If she said jump, his reply would be, how high? And he couldn’t take his eyes off that damned zipper. Every time her hand went to it - and she’d been doing that all round the store - he thought she was going to pull it down. She was doing it now. Fingering it lightly and sending him little glances. God, she was a tease. And this certainly was going to be an evening to remember.


---------------------------------


Buffy dropped her shopping bag onto the kitchen table and fished out the champagne. “Here,” she handed it to Spike. “You open this, corkscrew’s in there, and I’ll get the tub filled. It takes ages.”

He took the bottle. “As in a long time?”

“No, Spike. I can tell what you’re thinking.”

He started on the bottle. “What, you’re psychic now?”

“Don’t need to be.” She gave a knowing nod at the bulge in his jeans, and then made a big show of busying herself with the rest of the shopping. “Now where did I put those candles?”

“You’re a wicked little madam Buffy. Whoa.” He jumped back as champagne spilled over the neck of the bottle and splashed his jeans. “Did you work in a torture chamber in your last life?”

“I might have. Do you have any matches for these?” She held up the scented candles. “Vanilla or Spice, and what’s with the madam? You calling me a hooker?”

“Wouldn’t dare. Lighter’s in my coat pocket. And, a little madam is what we’d call a spoilt brat of a kid. Like you were, I’m guessing.” He took the candles from her and sniffed them in turn, indicating the vanilla. “This is kind of nice.”

“You have no idea how right you are, Spike.” She leaned back as she felt him move in behind her. “Umm, that bath needs filling.” They were never going to make it upstairs if he didn’t stop distracting her. She batted his hand away as it made for the zipper of her top.

“Tell me what you were like Buffy, when you were a kid. Did you have pigtails?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to show me?”

“Spike! That is so...for another evening. Look, take the wine and glasses, and go upstairs. Get that bath filled and I’ll see to this lot. Go.”

“Yes miss.” He gave her a little salute, picked up the things and then scooted out of the room as she threatened him with the wet dishtowel. She placed it back on the sink, remembering how he’d stuffed it down the back of her tee shirt, that night. How it had led to their first kiss.

He was being very sweet about all this she thought, as she hurried through the rest of the preparations. And the teasing banter was kind of nice. Made them seem like they’d been together for a longer time than just a week. She tipped the olives into a dish, wondering if they actually qualified as sexy food. They didn’t look very sexy sitting there. Spike hadn’t been much help at all in choosing the food, especially after she’d shown him the top. He’d said yes to everything she’d suggested, and hurried her on to the next aisle.

So, they had melon, chocolates, grapes, olives, and frozen strawberries and cream. The chocolate fudge ice cream could wait for later, she decided. She fetched Spike’s lighter and slung it into the bag with the candles. There was just the slightest twinge of nervousness as she climbed the stairs. Was this going to work? Had she ruined the mood by insisting on all this preparation? Spike had been all for leaping into the tub as soon as they’d arrived - perhaps that’s what they should have done. She wouldn’t blame him if he’s gone right off the idea altogether.

The bathroom was hazy with steam as she walked in. One look at Spike and she knew he definitely hadn’t gone off the idea. Already stripped to the waist, he took the tray from her and unhooked the carrier bag, dumping it on the floor. As his fingers slid her zipper down, he gave her a look that was pure wolf. “Been wanting to do this for a long time, “ he said, lazily pulling at the laces of the leather top. “Ever since that night you fixed my head.”

Buffy had to hold on to his elbows to stabilise herself. She held her breath as he pushed the sides of the leather top apart, felt it slither to the floor. It had been outrageously expensive, but worth every penny. Look where it had got her. Who it had got her. Her hands went to his belt buckle, all traces of nervousness gone.

“Light the candles Spike, I’ll get the bath oil.” She hardly recognised her own voice as she said it. All the light-heartedness had vanished, leaving something deadly serious and intense. As the main light went off, the room took on an other-worldly feel in the flickering candlelight. The shadows on Spike’s face, the planes of his chest, the heady scent of exotic bath oil. It reminded her of the night they’d visited the well-house. That feeling of being outside time, the world going away. Only that had had an innocence about it. It had been magical, and this was too. But this was a darker magic.

Buffy had thought she was going to feel silly, self-conscious, but as Spike knelt down in front of her and worked on her jeans, pulling them down her legs, taking her thong with them, she felt like a goddess. He was looking at her with such reverence as she stepped out of them. His hands tracing a path over her calves, her thighs, cupping her bottom. Pulling her towards his waiting mouth. He pushed her down so that she was sitting on the side of the semi-sunken tub, pulling her knees apart so that he had more room to work. She grabbed at his hair, pulling it too hard as she felt herself losing control. Heard him groan as she moved against him. Groped for him as he stepped away to pull off his own jeans.

And then the cool marble of the bathroom floor was at her back as he fumbled for a condom. He sank into her with a growl and she felt him nipping and licking at her neck, whispering naughty words in her ear, kissing her mouth with a ferocious intensity. Completely overwhelming her, and totally abandoning himself to the ecstasy so blatantly written on his face. And she revelled in it. Just the thought of how crazy she was making him made her want to come again and again. He was a wolf. Her wolf. And she wanted him to eat her up, so that she could be with him for ever. And we haven’t even gotten in the tub yet, she thought shakily.

When he came, he seemed to go on convulsing forever, and she held him and stroked his hair as they both floated back down to earth. Back to the hot, steamy bathroom. And when he finally lifted his head, he looked at her with a dazed expression and said just four words.

“I love you Buffy.”

Chapter 18


He’d said it first. The thing she’d been wanting to say, the first time he’d kissed her, but hadn’t dared to, because it was too soon. Because she thought it might frighten him away. He’d said he loved her. Had made it easy for her, because now she could say it too. Only she didn’t have to worry about being rejected or having her words flung back at her. He’d taken all the risks by baring his heart first. And she loved him all the more for it.

Spike rolled over onto his back, taking her with him, so that she was draped along the length of him, her head snuggled into the curve of his neck. “I mean it Buffy. Happened kinda quick, the falling in love thing. But it’s the truth.”

“I love you too Spike." It still felt strange saying it, even though she knew it was what he wanted to hear. She meant it with all her heart, but she was scared that it somehow wasn’t coming out right. And she desperately wanted him to know how much she meant it. “I think I’ve loved you since the first time you kissed me. Do you remember that?”

“Hardly likely to forget, pet. That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

“Didn’t you feel me falling?” Buffy kept her face tight against his skin.
“If you hadn’t been there to catch me, I’d have shattered into a million pieces.”

“Lucky I was then. I love it when you quote poetry.”

“I just made that up.”

Spike chuckled. “Still poetry, love.” His arms slipped around her waist, hoisting her up. He gazed at her lovingly for a few moments.

"Hey, let’s see what else we can remember about that night. Weren’t you kinda like this?”

She gave a little laugh as he lifted her. “Yeah, but with more clothes on.” She wriggled so that she was in just in the right position. “Are you sure Spike, we only just...”

“Hey, what kind of talk is that? Male pride here. Just keep moving.”

“Like this?” She gave an experimental wriggle and then fell forward in a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry Spike, I’m feeling a bit giddy. Haven’t even had any champagne yet." She raised her head, her face shining. “You just told me you love me. I wanna just run up and down the road shouting it to everyone I meet.”

“Not dressed like that I hope.” Spike sat himself up, grabbing her round the waist to stop her from falling backwards. “Okay, what do you say we get in the tub? Then you can feed me grapes or something?”

Buffy gazed back at him. The man she loved. Who loved her. She hadn’t known till that minute that a heart could be so full of love that it might actually burst. Hers felt like it was going to pop with the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. She pulled him in for a kiss, and poured everything she could into it. So much so, that he broke the kiss and stared at her for a few seconds before crushing his lips back to hers. It just seemed to go on and on, each telling the other, without words, how they felt. A perfect moment of connection.


-------------------------------


Willow picked up her regency novel and arranged herself comfortably on Xander’s couch. She was still breaking out into spontaneous little smirks every time she thought about the love machine. Had anyone seen them? And Xander. She thought he’d never want to speak to her again, but boy had he surprised her. Now he had some contract work to finish, so she was keeping him company. Only he wasn’t getting much done because she kept disturbing him.

“Do you think you’d like to 'lave' me Xander?”

He looked up, interested. “Sounds kind of kinky, what the hell are you reading?”

“Regency.” Willow held the book up. “Not sure what it means though. Do you think he’s licking her?”

“What, is he a dog? Anyway, thought they were all prim and proper in those kind of books.”

“Like us, you mean?”

Xander leaned back on his chair and stretched. "Yeah just like us. Sod this, can’t concentrate. How about I open a bottle of wine?”

Willow closed her book. “Sounds good. Then we can snuggle up in front of your gas fire and talk.”

“Talk?”

“Yeah, talk. I’m a bit sore from all the - you know.”

Xander was over like a shot, kneeling in front of her. “Oh Will, I’m sorry, was I..."

“Calm down Xan. Just overdid it a bit, that’s all. How many times was it?”

“Umm, quite a few. I just can’t keep my hands off you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I hope you’re not just after me for my body.”

“Can you cook?” Xander ducked as a cushion came sailing his way. “I’ll go get the wine.” He re-appeared a few moments later with a bottle and two glasses. “Here we go, now what did you want to talk about?”

Willow thought for a moment. “Tell me about you and Spike. You grew up together didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Xander sat next to her and pulled her against him. “We were mortal enemies, then best mates, and today...well that’s water under the bridge, I hope.”

“So, how did you meet?”

Xander’s face took on a nostalgic look. “Eight years old. He was the skinniest, ponciest looking kid I’d ever seen, so of course I had to beat him up.”

Willow looked shocked. “Why?”

“Because I could, I suppose. I was the big, tough, he-man type. What are you laughing at? And he was a real mummy’s boy. His dad was away a lot of the time, so I guess him and his mum were really close. Used to just stand there and cry. Never even hit me back.”

“You were a bully?”

“Guess I was, only I didn’t realise it at the time. Just thought it was a bit of fun.”

“Then how did you get to be friends?” Willow traced small patterns on the front of Xander’s tee-shirt. She wasn’t sure she was liking this story.

“Year or so later, he was away for a couple of weeks, then when he came back he was different. Started hitting back, big time. Anyone went near him, he’d just go berserk. Then I found out his mum had died, suddenly. Brain haemorrhage or something. Got a headache one day, they took her to the hospital and she collapsed and died in the waiting room. Spike was there when it happened, he's got this real phobia about hospitals now. Won't go near them.

“That's so sad, but what made you become friends? You didn’t keep bullying him after that did you?

“Of course not. Big gang of kids were out to get him one day. I figured he needed some help. Been best friends ever since.”

“So, your friendship was based on fighting?”

“Pretty much. But bloody hell, together we were invincible. Then his dad went abroad and he got sent off to boarding school. Met up again when we started at university."

Willow was liking the story a lot better now. She really hadn't liked the thought of Xander being a bully. "So when did you start up with the computer thing?"

Xander reached for the wine bottle and re-filled both glasses. "Here. Couple of years back. 'Course, he had to go and do bloody poetry instead of computing. Still, we're doing okay. You wouldn't think it to look at Spike's place though. Lives in a right dump. Likes to think of himself as an artist or something."

"What, it's worse than this?" Willow clapped her hand over her mouth as soon as she'd said it. "On no Xander, I didn't mean..."

Xander chuckled. "It's alright love, yes it is worse than this. Saving up our profits for when he finishes his PhD, then we're really going to hit the big time."

Willow gave him an affectionate squeeze. "Sounds like you've got plans. That's nice. I wish I knew what I was doing next year."

They both lapsed into silence. Each thinking that as things stood, they would both be in different countries next year. Willow didn't want to think about that now.

"So, what's the deal with Dru? Do you think she'll back off now?"

Xander gave a deep sigh. "God Will, she doesn't give up. Always had her sights on Spike, right since we were kids. He's my best friend, she's my sister. And I'm bloody stuck in between. It ain't gonna end well."

She didn't know what to say. Poor Xander was stuck between the devil and the deep, blue sea. She raised her head and pulled him in for a kiss, trying to give him the comfort she hadn't been able to that afternoon. He returned it enthusiastically, but made no further demands on her, obviously remembering what she'd said earlier. It was nice just being with him, like this. Enjoyable as it was, she didn't want a relationship based just on sex, which up to now was really all it had been. She didn't know if she had any kind of future with him at all. There was no denying that she had to go home at the end of the year. She pulled him down for another, slightly more desperate kiss. The time was just going to go faster and faster, until the day when she’d be kissing him goodbye at the airport. They’d talk about staying in touch, but nobody ever did, did they?

She couldn’t stop the tears coming as she kissed him. He pulled back, surprised, wiping at them with his thumbs. Not saying anything, but looking deep into her eyes as if searching for something. Then he pulled her close and stroked her hair, as they both stared into the flickering flames of the gas fire. Neither saying anything, but each knowing what the other was thinking.


-----------------------------------------


Buffy hit the mall as soon as lectures were over on Thursday. She didn’t like leaving her field - trip shopping this late, but she’d spent so much time with Spike that she’d started to fall behind with her assignments, so she’d had to spend every spare moment on Tuesday and Wednesday in the library, frantically catching up. They’d spent every night together, though. It already seemed natural to, and she missed him like crazy when he wasn’t there. Wondered how she was going to get through a weekend of separate bedrooms and sneaking around. Perhaps they wouldn’t get any time together at all.

She tried to stop thinking about Spike for five minutes, and concentrate instead on the array of waterproof coats and hi tech walking boots in front of her. Did she want a breathable membrane? Gore Tex? In the end she gave up and did what she usually did. Just bought the most expensive item of everything she needed. By the time she’d finished, she was laden with bags and sorely in need of coffee, so she treated herself to a cappuccino and an enormous cream cake, and sat herself in the window of the small coffee shop.

She used to think that shopping was the biggest thrill of all, but now, of course, she knew that it wasn’t. Thinking about Spike made her smile again. She was turning into a grinning idiot. Had one plastered on her face most of the time now. She’d met Willow yesterday and they’d done nothing but smirk and giggle at each other. She sipped at her coffee, feeling very pleased with herself, happy with life. Everything was just wonderful.

She watched the people going by, the old, the young, moms with babies in strollers. Wondered if she’d ever be pushing one of those. Noticed the rowdy bunch of teenagers outside the record shop. Doing what teenagers did, messing about, being loud, pushing each other. She didn’t notice who was at the heart of the group. Someone who didn’t want to be seen, but who’d definitely seen her.

-----------------------------


“It’s her.”

“Who is?” The lanky, greasy-haired youth looked up.

“Over there, in the window.” His companion poked him in the ribs.

“Ow, watch it Dru, you've got wicked nails.”

“Serves you right for not listening. It’s that bitch who stole my Spike away from me.”

“Oh yeah." One of the other lads looked up. “Which one is she?”

“The blonde. All big hair and American teeth. Told me to keep away from him, all high and mighty like. I’ll show her who’s in charge.”

One of the group let out an appreciative whistle. “Hey, she’s hot, man, wouldn’t mind getting up her skirt.”

Dru whopped him across the head. “We've got to teach her a lesson you prat. Thinks she’s pretty. Well she won’t be when we’ve finished with her.”

The lad held up his hands. “No way Dru, I ain't beating up on no girl. Scare her a bit, yeah, or maybe we could nick her purse. All Americans are rich, aren’t they?”

Her other companion nodded. “You’re bloody scary sometimes Dru. I’m with Jake, let’s just nick her purse, and then we can go see Johnny.”

Dru was staring across at the coffee shop window. “Got a better idea. You with me lads?”

“What you thinking Dru?”

“I’m thinking she’s got to have a car. Americans drive everywhere, right? Who fancies a joyride?”

Jake gave a loud whoop, drawing disapproving stares from the shoppers around them.

“Quiet you moron, she’ll see me. Don’t want her to do that. She’s up. We follow her, you grab the car, then meet me by the west door.” She rubbed her hands together. “Thought you’d got one over on me, Buffy Summers. Didn’t you know that nobody does that?”

The greasy-haired youth let out a snigger. “You’re mad, Dru, fucking mad.”

Dru put her arm around his shoulder and leaned in very close to his ear. “Yeah, but it turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Fucking right it does.” He grabbed her and tried to kiss her but she skipped out of his reach. “Aww, come on Dru. Don't I get a reward for this?”

“Maybe. Quick she’s up. Let’s see what kind of wheels she’s got.”


----------------------------


Buffy looked at her watch and felt in her pocket. She dropped a pound coin on the table, wondering if it was enough for the tip, and gathered her bags. Time to get back. More work to do, then packing, then Spike was coming around for a meal. Nothing fancy, except that she’d been to the most expensive delicatessen in town and stocked up on all sorts of goodies. And not knowing what he liked, she’d bought virtually one of everything in the shop. Still, that essay needed finishing first. She groped for her keys as she approached the car park, only vaguely aware of the two youths following her.

She didn’t even see their faces. One minute she was making her way towards her car, happily planning her gourmet meal with Spike, the next she was lying on the hard concrete of the car park, her packages strewn around her, watching her beautiful car disappearing in a roar of exhaust fumes. Her hand came away wet with blood when she touched her face, but she paid it no attention. All she could think about was that she’d failed. She’d told her dad she’d be safe. That nothing was going to happen to her, all alone in a foreign country. And yet again he’d be able to say I told you so. He was right, and she was wrong. She’d completely blown it.

She heard someone calling for security as she struggled to get up, but her legs were suddenly made of rubber and wouldn’t hold her.

“Are you alright love? Let’s get you inside shall we?”

A kind voice was talking to her, but she couldn’t make out the face that went with it through her tears. She felt totally and utterly pathetic. Might as well have just handed them the keys on a plate. Like taking candy from a baby. Someone pressed a tissue to her cheek, helped her up and shepherded her back into the mall. The manager was summoned, the police called and amidst it all, Buffy sat in a daze, waiting for Spike to arrive and wondering just how the hell she was going to break this news to her dad.


----------------------------


Spike nearly broke the land speed record getting to the mall. That bloody car. It had made her a target. Should have insisted she get rid of it straight away. And they said she’d been hurt. He tried to calm himself down as he negotiated the parking space. He wanted to beat them to within an inch of their lives. They’d hurt her. Why didn’t they just take the bloody car? Why did they have to hurt her? He ran into the mall, grabbed a security guard and demanded to know where the manager’s office was. Struggled to get a grip on himself as the guard eyed him suspiciously.

“Buffy Summers, American, she’s had her car stolen.” Didn’t he realise how urgent this was?

The guard nodded in understanding. “Yes, about 15 minutes ago, are you her husband?”

“No, boyfriend, where is she?”

The guard grabbed hold of Spike’s arm, obviously still a little suspicious of his agitated appearance, and led him to the manager’s office.

Spike didn’t blame him. If the car thieves had still been around, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself. He’d alarmed quite a few people with his mad dash across the mall, and you couldn’t be too careful these days. He tried to steady his breathing, he was no use to Buffy in this state.

The guard let go of his arm, and pushed the door to the manager’s office open.

“The boyfriend’s here.”

The room seemed to be full of people. A policewoman taking a statement, the witness, the mall-manager. Spike didn’t see any of them. All he saw was Buffy, sitting there, looking very small, her cheek bandaged, he hands clasped in her lap. He flew across the room and grabbed her, felt her arms go around him and hold on tight. Felt her sobs as she started crying. She needed to go home now, the hell with this. He turned to the policewoman.

“I need to get her home.” Buffy was still clinging to him, weeping silently. She hadn’t said anything. Had just groped for him, blindly, and she was holding on as if he’d disappear if she let go.

The policewoman nodded, checking over her notes. “We’ll have to put out an alert at all the major ports. Car like that could be out of the country within hours. Probably stolen to order.” She showed Spike her notebook. “Is this Miss Summer’s address and phone number?"

Spike nodded.

“Then take her home, we may be in touch later today. Will someone be home?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.” Spike squatted down in front of Buffy. She must know he was there, but she didn’t seem to be seeing him. “Buffy, love. Shall we go home?” He fought against the rising anger as he looked at the gash on her cheek. This was the last thing Buffy needed, desperate as she was to prove that she could be independent. Could look after herself. England was a much less violent place than America, he reckoned. She should have felt safe here. He pulled her up gently and accepted her bags from the mall-manager. At least they hadn’t got her purse. Just that damned car.

-----------------------------

Buffy felt a strong arm around her shoulders. Someone pulling her up. She’d held herself together pretty well during the walk back to the mall, during the questioning, but now that Spike was here, she just let it all go. Felt herself falling to pieces. Knew she could because he’d pick them all up for her. All she was aware of as they walked back to his car was him. Spike was her lifeline and she wasn’t letting go the death-grip she had on his arm.

“Buffy, sweetheart.”

She felt gentle fingers prying hers off.

“Let go, so I can drive us home.”

Then she felt her seat belt closing, the car door slamming. A moment of panic as he disappeared. Relief as he got in the driver’s side. She reached for him again, and he pulled her over to him. It wasn’t very comfortable with the gear stick between them, but she didn’t want to be apart from him for a second. Right now she needed his strength, because she had none of her own. The thieves had taken a lot more than her car. They’d taken her dignity, her pride, her independence. They’d made her weak. An hour ago, life had been perfect. Now it wasn’t. It was this.

She felt Spike’s fingers gently tracing around the bandage. Wondered what she looked like. Didn’t dare look in the car mirror. Would she have a scar, like him? Would he find it ugly? She raised her head, and for the first time since he’d arrived she really saw him. He looked angry as he fingered the bandage. Tried for a smile when he saw her looking. Failed miserably. Then she found herself half-smiling up at him, realising that he needed reassurance that she was okay, and that only she could give it to him. And that made her feel a little better. The shock started to subside and a little bit of the strength returned.

“I’m okay Spike.” She squeezed his arm as she settled back into the seat. “Just take me home.”

-------------------------------


Spike started up the car. She was looking a little better. Not quite as pale as she’d been when he’d first seen her. And that was a sight he never wanted to see again. His heartbeat was only just returning to normal from the shock of it all. God knows how she must be feeling. He managed a bit of a reassuring smile back to her and turned the car for home. Neither of them said anything. All they needed was for the other to be there.

When they got home, he settled her down on the couch. Found a throw in the lounge and wrapped it around her. Made them both a cup of tea and then cuddled up with her.

“You really okay, Buff?”

“No, not really.” Her fingers were tracing a pattern on his thigh. “My dad’s gonna kill me.”

“I can’t believe that. Cars get nicked, Buff, especially expensive sports cars. It wasn’t your fault. Anyway, insurance will cover it.”

“It’s not the money, Spike.” Her voice started to break again. “He told me this would happen. Told me I wouldn’t be able to look after myself. And he was right.”

“No he wasn’t.” Spike suddenly felt unreasonably angry with Buffy’s dad. He hadn’t even met the man, but how dare he undermine Buffy’s confidence in this way.

“You’ve done great since you’ve been here. You run this house, you’re doing really well with the course. You’re a wonderful capable woman, probably the most determined one I’ve ever met, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you otherwise. And you’ve got me. I’ll always be here for you, love.”

“I’ve got to call him. Let him know what happened.”

“Leave it till tomorrow, pet. Wait till the shock’s worn off.” There was no way she should do this now. Too much emotional baggage as it was, by the sound of things, without the additional trauma of telling him about the car.

“No, he’d expect me to tell him right away. She leaned back against him and was quiet for a while, as if gathering up her courage.

"Spike. Would you..." She took a deep breath and tried again. "Would you make love to me first?"

Surely she didn’t mean that. It wasn’t the first thing that had sprung to his mind. Thought she’d need holding, words of comfort. Never thought she’d ask for that. And he wasn’t sure he was up to it. He was still shaking inside from the shock of that phone call. Then seeing her...

“Please Spike. It’s what I need, right now. I need to know that you love me.”

“You know I love you Buffy. Haven’t I told you about a hundred times in the last few days? And it's not just about the sex. I said I’ll always be here for you.”

“Oh Spike, I didn't mean it was just about sex, please don't think that. This is coming out all wrong. You said I should tell you what I want, what I need. Well, right now it's this. I want to phone him while I’m lying in bed naked with you. I want the memory of that sound you make when you come, fresh in my mind when I talk to him. I want to speak to him as a woman who has a life of her own, and a man who loves her. I don’t want to be his little girl any more. Does that make sense?"

"Kind of." He was beginning to understand where she was coming from. She needed to feel in control when she phoned her dad. It was the only way she was going to get through it. "If it's what you need, Buffy, but I don't need an excuse to make love to you, or any reason other than we both want to. You've got more courage inside you than you give yourself credit for. Do it because you want to, not because you have to."

She didn't answer him. And he realised why. God, what a prat he was. She didn't need that lecture right now. Not after everything she'd been through today. She needed his strength, not his bloody sermons.

He stood up and scooped her into his arms, and carried her effortlessly to the bedroom. They undressed each other in silence. The looks they were giving each other were more than enough to convey what they were feeling. And, far from not being up to it, one touch of her hand nearly had him coming there and then.

As he lay down on the bed and pulled her over him he thought that she had never looked so magnificent. His mind flashed back to the first time he’d imagined this scene. That night she’d fixed his head. Now it was happening for real, and it was every bit as good as he’d thought it would be. And he had a good imagination.

Even with her face bandaged up, she looked beautiful. Rising and falling above him. Leaning down to let her hair sweep across his chest, because she knew he liked that. Getting him to make those noises she wanted to remember when she made that phone call.

And she wasn’t holding back either. He heard her say his name over and over as she let herself go. Taking him with her, because right now he was her slave and he had no choice but to follow her.

And then she was making the phone call. Punching in the number. And he slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans. Acknowledging her nod of understanding, he grabbed his shoes and tee shirt and left her to do it by herself. He’d given her what she said she needed. Only she already had it inside her. Just didn't know it. She didn't need him to hold her hand, while she did this. If he stayed, she'd never learn that. It did sound like a sermon, and he felt a bit of a coward for leaving. But he hoped she'd understand. She needed him there because she wanted him. Not just because she wanted to prove something to her dad.

He went downstairs, and let himself out of the front door. His cigarettes were in the car, and he needed one badly right now. The side gate was unlocked, so he walked round and sat down on one of the garden benches adorning her perfectly manicured garden. She was going to need to change the security codes on the garage door, at least, he thought. They’d have no trouble tracing where she lived from her registration number, and the electronic opener was probably still in the car.

He wondered who they were. Professional car thieves, or opportunistic joy-riders? He hoped it was the second. If professionals were involved, they’d probably had the car staked out for weeks, waiting for the right time. Probably been following her around, knew where she lived. It was a scary thought. Didn’t do to bring yourself to the attention of those sorts.

He was on his second cigarette when she came out. Wearing his sweatshirt, the sleeves pulled down over her hands. Her body language told him all he needed to know. He threw the cigarette down and crushed it underfoot. Rose to meet her.

She just stood there, looking so much like a little girl. Hugging her arms around herself.

“How did it go?” He didn’t really need to ask. She opened her mouth to speak. Closed it again, shut her eyes. And when she opened them, she said the words he’d been dreading to hear.

“He says I’ve got to come home.”

Chapter 19


Buffy walked over to Spike, slid her arms around his waist and leaned her uninjured cheek against his chest. It had all been too good to be true. This wonderful feeling that something real was happening in her life at last. Spike saying he loved her. Her loving him back. Those things were real, but they weren’t going to get a chance to find out how real. All her plans, hopes and dreams for this year, and beyond, had come crashing down on her in just a few short hours.

The last time her life had turned around this dramatically had been when her mom had died, but then she’d been a child. It had hurt, and she’d missed her like crazy, but although she’d never forgotten her, she’d grown into a new life with her father at the centre, and bounced back. Now she was an adult. She didn’t think like a child any more. She understood how these things hurt, and she couldn’t see how she was ever going to bounce back from this. Better to shut down now. The longer she kept loving him, the more it was going to hurt when she left.

And she had no choice but to leave. Her father had made that very clear. Her being in England was just too much for him to worry about. He’d been frantic during the call, wanted to jump on the first plane over and take her straight back with him. She was everything to him. Especially since her mom had died. And hadn’t he always looked after her? Would always look after her.

And of course she loved her father, and didn’t want to hurt him. She had a good life waiting for her back in the States, and her father had been the kindest, nicest dad she could have hoped for. Everything he’d done had been out of love and concern for her. How could she repay him by breaking his heart? Better that she suffered. She couldn’t do that to him.

And then there was Spike. The best thing that had ever happened to her. It was going to hurt him too. This was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

-----------------------------------

Spike held on to her as her words sank in. Leaving? She couldn’t leave him, not now. She was an adult, able to make up her own mind, surely her father couldn’t force her to go if she didn’t want to?

“Let’s go back inside Buffy, you’re shivering, then you can tell me what he said. If you want to that is.” He looked down into her face. “Okay?”

She nodded and allowed herself to be led back inside. They both stood in the kitchen, neither of them speaking. Spike remembered what he’d said only a few nights ago, about her going back to the States at the end of the year, and how she’d changed the subject. It had seemed too far in the future to worry about then, but now? It was happening.

No, dammit, it wasn’t. Not if he had anything to do with it.

“So, what did he say?”

Buffy’s voice was hardly there as she spoke. "He wants me back right away. He’s really worried about me. Seems to think I’m going to get kidnapped or something.”

“And are you?”

“I don’t know.” She half shouted it, then immediately looked contrite. “Spike, I...

“Hey, come here.” He held his arms out to her, but she didn’t move so he went to her and pulled her to him. She was so tense, she was shaking with it. He rubbed a hand up and down her back, spoke soothingly to her, but he couldn’t get her to relax. Couldn’t get her to sit down. So he picked her up and carried her into the television room. She lay stiffly in his arms as he sat down with her on his lap. Almost pulling away from him. And he couldn’t bear it.

“Buffy, love, look at me. Don’t do this. Don’t let him do this to us.” She didn’t give any indication she’d heard. “Please, Buffy, look at me.”

She turned to him and he saw something that frightened him. She was already going away, distancing herself. What the hell had her dad said to her?

“Buffy, love, you’re scaring me. You’re not really going, are you?”

“I don’t have a choice, Spike.” She spoke almost mechanically. “Dad was right, I can’t look after myself.” She pointed to her cheek. “Look at me.”

“Bloody bollocks.” He was getting angry now. “Your dad snaps his fingers, and you go running. What about me? You told me you loved me. What was that all about?”

“It was all about...” She gave a great choking sob and buried her face in her hands, and for a few moment he just sat and watched her cry.

"I meant it Buffy, when I said I loved you.”

She lifted her head. “And you think I didn’t?”

“No, Buffy, I thought you did. That’s why I can’t understand this.” He waved his hand uselessly in the air. He wasn’t getting through to her. “How can you shut me out, just like that?”

“I’m not...I’ve got to don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t. What? You stop loving me, just like that? I don’t believe you.”

She made to stand up, but he pulled her down. “You’re not going anywhere until you look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me. Say it Buffy.” She strained away from him, but he held her tight. She wasn’t just going to walk away from this, just because of some stupid notion that she had no free will of her own. Her father didn’t own her, why couldn’t she see that?

At least she wasn’t saying it. She wasn’t looking at him, but she hadn’t said she didn’t love him either. He’d get through to her even if he had to tie her up to make her listen. He couldn’t believe that this was the same girl who had been moaning his name in ecstasy, not half an hour ago.

“Listen Buffy.” He held her by her arms, half facing him, realising this was the best he was going to get. “I’m going to talk, then you are. Then if you want me to, I’ll walk out that door, and you can go back to the States to whatever it is that’s so important to you there. Deal?”

She gave a very small nod. The only indication that she was listening.

“Right.” He took a breath to steady himself. “I’m going to let go of you now. You won’t run away will you?” She shook her head, so he loosened his hold. “Right.” What could he say? Plead with her, beg her. He only knew that he wanted her here, with him, and that it would break his heart if she wasn’t here. How did he tell her that? How did he make it sound right?

“Buffy, when I got that phone call this afternoon, and they said you’d been hurt I... Well, the last time I felt anything like that was when my mum died. And I don’t say this lightly, Buffy. I’m not using it as emotional blackmail, it’s just the truth. She died right in front of me, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. But somehow I felt I should have been able to do something. I was only ten, and it was a long time before I realised that it wasn’t my fault."

Buffy slowly lifted her head as he spoke, her eyes growing wide. He took another breath and continued. “That’s how I felt this afternoon, when I saw you. I felt like it was my fault. That I should have been there to protect you. That I should have been able to do something about it, but I didn’t.”

“But it wasn’t your fault, Spike.” She looked a little dazed. “How can it be your fault?”

“I know that. It’s just how I feel about it, do you understand?”

“I think so.” She was relaxing just a little. Not holding herself so stiffly. He hadn’t wanted to say that. Not emotional blackmail? Who was he kidding. But it was deep, personal stuff. She had to know what it meant for him to say it. He didn’t talk about his mum’s death to anyone. Not even his dad.

He could feel her coming back, leaning in to him. Ever so slightly.

“That’s all I have to say, Buffy. It’s your turn now.”

------------------------------

Buffy turned and looked at him properly, for the first time since she’d made the phone call. This was Spike, the man she’d said she loved. The only man she’d ever had sex with. Who’d made her feel stuff she’d never felt before. He didn’t deserve what she was doing to him. And that was her punishment, she realised. For the rest of her life, she’d carry this around with her.

He was gazing back at her, expectantly, a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes, thinking he’d changed her mind. Didn’t he know that she wanted to stay with all her heart? Didn’t he realise that she couldn’t? She leaned towards him and kissed him on the lips. A small, sweet kiss, then she slid off his lap and moved to the other end of the couch. The glimmer of hope faded from his eyes as she left him.

“Was that goodbye?”

“Shh, Spike, it’s my turn, remember?” Where to begin?

“This thing that happened this afternoon. It scared me, made me realise some things. But I still don’t see how you could think it was your fault.” She nodded her head, indicating she wanted an answer.

“Human nature, Buff. I love you, so I want to keep you safe. Just like your dad. Bet he’s feeling much like I do at the moment.”

Buffy thought about it for a moment. He was good at this stuff. Always seemed to know the right thing to say. “Okay, I get that. But when I was waiting for you to fetch me, take me home, I was doing just that. Waiting for you to come and look after me.”

“Like you looked after me when Angelus cracked me with that bottle. That’s okay too, Buff, it doesn’t make you weak. The important thing is what you do next.”

What she did next? Her whole life hinged on what she did next.

“I feel like I’m being forced to make a terrible choice. If I stay here with you, then I’ll destroy my dad. And that won’t make any of us happy. I owe him everything, Spike. Since mom died, I’ve been his whole world. He has hopes for me, expectations. This, coming to England, was just a detour in the plan. That’s why he agreed to it. I’ll always be his little girl, Spike. Nothing’s changed.”

Spike stood up abruptly, stared at her for a few seconds, then walked out of the room. It took the slamming of the front door to rouse her into action. He’d gone, and she hadn’t finished talking. The hell with that. He’d had his say. She jumped up and ran after him, catching him just as he was getting into his car. It had started raining, but this time she didn’t notice. He was leaving her, and she hadn’t explained anything to him yet. She had to let him know why she was doing this. How much it was hurting her.

She reached for his hand as he moved to unlock the car door. “Spike, you didn’t let me finish.”

He took a deep breath and turned to face her. “Because I didn’t like what I was hearing.”

“Some things are hard to listen to.”

“Yeah, especially that crap.” He shook her hand off. “Made me want to throw up.”

She took a step back. He’d never spoken to her like this before. Nobody spoke to her like this.

“You’re asking me to choose, between you and my dad, and it’s not fair, Spike.”

The rain was hammering down in earnest now, soaking them both. Buffy wiped it off her face as it dripped off her hair. “Do you think this is easy for me, Spike?”

“Is that the way you see this? Either or, black and white? You’ve got some serious growing up to do. After all the things we’ve done together, in bed, on the bathroom floor, you can honestly stand there and still call yourself his little girl. You’re long past that Buffy.”

Buffy felt herself colouring as he spoke. These were precious memories, how could he speak of them in such a callous fashion? Then he grabbed her elbows, and held her still.

“I’m fed up of always being the one who says the right things, Buffy. You know, both you and Xander have called me a saint in the last few days. Well I’m not. I’m not trying to manipulate you into anything, and I’m sorry you see it that way. I just thought we could be two grown-ups doing what grown-ups do. I didn’t think I’d have to go to bed with your dad too."

“Then what was all that stuff about your mum? Wasn’t that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?”

The moment the words came out, she knew it was totally and utterly the very worst thing she could have said. He let go of her elbows abruptly.

“Well, I wish I hadn’t said it then.” He spoke calmly and quietly. "Goodbye Buffy." Then he opened his car door and tried to get inside.

“No.” She pulled at his sleeve, but he shook her off, slid in and slammed the door. As he put the keys in the ignition she ran round to the other side and managed to get the passenger door open. She jumped in just as he was starting to back off the drive, and was jolted against the seat as he slammed on the brakes.

“You stupid...” A strong arm grabbed her and pulled her in as the momentum caused the car door to slam. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Reckon so.” His face was wet. Rain or tears, she couldn’t tell.

He turned away from her, put his hands on the steering wheel and closed his eyes. “Go inside Buffy, you’re soaked.”

“So are you.” How the hell did she put this right? She placed her hand tentatively over his, feeling his muscles flinch as she did so. The words she said next were going to be the most important ones she’d ever uttered. But would he want to hear them?

-----------------------------------

Spike kept his eyes tightly shut. If he looked at her he was going to cry, and he’d made enough of a prat of himself already. He felt her hand cover his, wished she’d get out of the car so he could go home. Hoped she wouldn’t. Wished he’d never met her. Glad he had. He didn’t know what to feel.

Then she was talking, and he had no choice but to listen, because she was Buffy and she’d throw herself under the car to make him listen if she had to. He gave a dry little laugh and dropped his head to the steering wheel. He’d said some cruel things to her, but she’d given as good as she’d got. And he deserved it. Should never have brought his mum into it. Those memories still brought out the worst in him.

“Spike, are you listening?”

He gave a slight nod in reply. Done with talking, and he had no idea what she was going to say. Still didn’t know if she was leaving him or not. Everything hung in the balance.

“Don’t interrupt me. I want to say all of this. Then if you still think I’m talking a load of crap, I’ll get out of the car and let you drive away. Deal?”

He nodded again. The tension was killing him. He was love’s biggest bitch right now. The way she’d jumped in the car...If she said she wanted him now, god-help-him, he’d follow her back into the house like a puppy, with his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out. She had no idea how much she held his life in her hands right now.

--------------------------------

“I thought I had grown up, Spike. Yeah, I had a few doubts along the way, but I thought I was getting there. When I went to that club wearing that top . . . Well, it was a stupid thing to do, but there was a point in the evening when I had the whole rugby club eating out of my hand. They were all looking at me. It made me feel really powerful. Then when I fixed your head, that’s when I decided I wanted you.”

Spike opened his eyes and looked sideways at her.

“Yeah, didn’t quite go according to plan though, did it? But we got there in the end. Then when you made love to me, I thought that qualified pretty high in the growing up stakes. Buffy Summers is no longer a virgin. I wanted to run home and tell everyone. I’ve grown up at last, I’m one of you now.”

He was still gazing at her quietly, as a few stray tears tracked down his cheeks and she reached over and wiped them off with her finger. “Are these tears for me Spike? Because I don’t deserve them.” She placed a finger over his mouth as he opened it to say something. “It’s true Spike. I’ve been so stupid. Couldn’t see what was under my nose. Thought growing up was about doing naughty things in hot-tubs, wearing trashy clothes."

Spike managed a bit of a smile. “Hot tubs are good.”

“Yeah, but growing up is more about this isn’t it? Commitment, and letting go. What does it say in the bible - something about putting away childish things. I love my dad, but he’ll survive without me. I want to stay here, with you Spike. If you still want me to, that is.”

She stopped and took a deep breath. He’d listened, like he always did, let her have her say. She didn’t know what else to say. Except for one more thing. “I’m sorry about your mom. I do know how you feel about that, which makes what I said even worse.”

“Have I said enough to put this right, Spike?”

There was an agonising spilt-second of a wait before he reached for her and pulled her against him. He buried his face in her shoulder and his voice was so muffled that she could hardly hear what he said.

“Yes, Buffy, you have, please stay.” He looked at her then, his eyes shining with tears, relief written all over his face. "And your hair’s wet.” He lifted one of the lank strands and curled it round his finger. "That’s why I wasn’t that worried.”

“No?” She raised her eyebrows in mock disbelief. “How’s that?”

“Well, I reckoned you had to be serious if you were willing to stand there in the rain and get your hair wet. You wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t cared.”

“Oh Spike . . . I do care.” She flung herself back on him, holding him tight. Pressing her damaged cheek against his face, but hardly feeling it. “You’ll never know how much I care for you.”

“But you’re gonna keep telling me . . . right?”

“I reckon so."

They sat and held each other. Neither of them speaking. She'd said commitment, and she'd meant it. And he hadn't flinched. Had just accepted it. Now she really was starting to understand what love was all about. She gave him an extra hard hug and he pulled back a little.

"Hey, watch your cheek, Buffy." He gently caressed the side of her face. "Is it sore?"

"A little, but I'll survive. Are you coming back in?”

“No.”

“Spike?” Her heart did a little double take.

“Relax Buffy. You go get some things and come over to my flat.”

She squeezed his hand and nodded in understanding. Right now they both needed to distance themselves from this place. He didn’t need the spectre of her dad hanging over everything they did. She ran into the house, up to her bedroom and threw a few clothes and toiletries into a bag. Before she left, she switched on her computer and logged on to her e-mail, clicked new message and wrote:

Hi dad,
Just wanted to let you know that I love you. Please don’t worry about me, I’m okay, and I’m safe. Sorry about the car, but cars get stolen. Especially expensive sports cars! I

’m spending this weekend with Wordsworth in the English Lakes, but I’ll call you on Monday and explain everything.
Remember that I’ll always really love you,
Buffy.


As she hit send, she felt the weight of the world lifting from her shoulders. She logged off, and went downstairs to join Spike. Maybe she still had a lot to learn, but she was getting there.

-------------------------------

Across the Atlantic, a good looking, middle-aged man reached for his computer mouse and scrolled down to the new message. What the hell was he going to do about Buffy? He missed her like mad, but dragging her home? Was it the right thing too do? Perhaps the kidnapping thing had been a bit much, but she had to know how much he worried about her. She’d refused to have any sort of personal security around her, and look where it had got her. There was no option. She had to come home. She had a life here. No shortage of eligible, rich men who would give her the life she had come to expect.

He opened the message and his eyes narrowed as he read it. It was so like her. And he was never one to walk away from a challenge.

“Joyce, would you come in here for a moment.” He clicked off the intercom and leaned back into his plush leather chair, waiting for his secretary to arrive.

“Can I get you something, Hank?" She popped her head around his office door, a sheaf of papers in her hand.

“Yes Joyce. Book me onto the first available flight to London. And go out and get me a bottle of that perfume that Buffy likes.” He reached into his jacket pocket and took out his wallet. "And one for yourself of course.” He winked at her as he handed her the money, holding it just out of reach. As she went to take it from him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her on to his lap.

“I’m going to be away for a few days, sorting out my wayward daughter.” His finger trailed along the top of her breasts. “So hurry back. Need to say a proper goodbye.”

Joyce dropped her papers onto his desk, and turned her attention back to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Buffy’s a big girl, Hank. She doesn’t need you breathing down her neck. She’s got her own life, and so have you. You've got to let her get on with it, she's nineteen you know. Hardly a baby."

She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “You’ve got the two of us to worry about now, so don’t stay too long, we’re gonna miss you.”

He patted her stomach, proudly. “Yeah, gonna miss you both, too. But you've got to understand about Buffy. I probably have overdone the protective father act, that's why I'm so worried about her. We were hard on her because she was so headstrong." He smiled at the memories. "You wouldn't believe some of the things she got up to. We were so terrified she was going to end up hurt or something, that we went to the other extreme and didn't let her do anything. Guess that's why she needed to get away. But I can't help it. She'll always be my little girl, Joyce. I've got to bring her home."


--------------------------------

Drusilla stood up as Johnny walked into the pub.

“So, what do you think Johnny? Didn’t I do well?”

He slipped an arm around her shoulder and air-kissed her cheek.

“You’re a good girl Dru, she’s a beauty.”

Dru held on to his arm as he went to sit down. “Does this mean I can play with the big boys now? You promised.”

Johnny removed her arm and sat himself down, patting the seat beside him. She scurried to sit down, excitement written all over her face.

“Oh, please Johnny. That other stuff, it’s crap, doesn’t do anything.”

He took out his wallet and handed a ten pound note to Dru’s friend. “Go get some drinks.” The youth scurried off and Johnny turned back to Dru. “Listen darlin’, you really don’t want to get into that stuff. Never wanted that for you.”

“But you said.” Dru sidled up to him and ran her hand up his arm. “Car like that, what’s it worth? Forty, fifty thousand quid. Gonna make you a nice profit. Gotta be worth something for me. Huh?”

Johnny looked at her for a couple of seconds, then he removed her arm and picked up his cigarettes. “Okay Dru, but it’s on your own head. Don’t come running back to me when you can’t handle it.”

“I can handle it, don’t worry about me. I only want to try it a couple of times, see what it’s like. I’ll stop if it’s bad.”

Johnny lit up his cigarette and blew out a long plume of smoke. “That’s what they all say. Okay,” he fished a pen out of his pocket and reached for a beer mat. “Here’s the address, tomorrow evening, after nine. Tell them I sent you. And Dru...”

She looked up from the beer mat she was reading, “Yeah?”

Johnny patted her on the shoulder. “You’ve done good.”

Chapter 20


“I need to pee.”

Buffy looked at Anya, who was sitting beside her in the back of Spike’s car. “But we only just stopped.”

“It’s the caffeine. They were out of decaf at the last service station and when I have caffeine, I have to pee. William, you’ll have to stop.”

“We’re on the bloody M6. I can’t just stop.” Spike sounded like he was barely holding on to his temper. They were only an hour into the journey to the Lakes and already they’d had to make three bathroom stops.

Anya squeezed her legs together. “Please William, I’m desperate.”

“Look, it’s been barely fifteen minutes, can’t you just hold it or something?”

“I need one too.” It was Andrew. He’d hardly said a word for the whole journey, but had niftily managed to grab the front seat after their last stop.

It was turning into a game of musical chairs. Buffy had started out next to Spike, but after the first rest stop, Anya had been the first one out to the car park and had jumped in before she could get there. She’d also beaten her to it the second time, but the third time Andrew had been waiting by the front passenger door with a smug little smile on his face. Buffy didn’t mind really. They had to be discrete this weekend, and she was only a little bit concerned by Anya’s continued ‘Seduce Spike’ campaign.

Yesterday had been another turning point in her relationship with Spike. They’d lain in bed and talked quietly in the dark. She’d made him laugh with her tales of Buffy the Spoilt Brat, and he’d made her want to cry when he’d told her what had happened with his mum. How his dad had dumped him in a boarding school and gone abroad because he couldn’t cope with it. How no-one had ever talked to him about it. She felt privileged that he’d wanted to share it, realising that it reflected the depth of his feelings for her.

She’d tried to make him understand the nature of her relationship with her dad. He said he did, but she doubted it. He was so fiercely independent, having been thrown back onto his own resources from an early age, where she’d been cosseted and protected all her life. He’d said himself that he didn’t feel he owed his dad anything, had no guilt about making his own life. She was just the opposite.

What they really needed was to meet somewhere in the middle, she thought, wondering if she should suggest he visit his dad next time he was home. She was learning to let go of hers. He needed to reconcile with his, and forgive him for whatever he thought he’d done to him. The upshot of it all was that today she felt a new-found confidence in herself, and in Spike. She could happily sit in the back of his car and not worry in the slightest that Anya was sitting next to him in a totally inappropriate -for- travelling micro- mini skirt, that had obviously been chosen for maximum impact. She was even less worried by Andrew, who was being a little more subtle, but who nevertheless seemed to have his sights firmly set on Spike for the weekend.

She’d given Spike her heart, and she knew that she could trust him with it. It was a nice, comfortable feeling. Not the most poetic way to put it, but it was just how she felt as she snuggled into the seat and watched the scenery flash by. It wasn’t very warm, but the sun was shining, albeit weakly, and England really was a green and pleasant land. Spike had told her she wouldn’t be disappointed by the Lake District, and she was really looking forward to it. She’d never got to go to that cosy country pub with Xander, so that was high on her list of things to do. If they could get away that was.

“William.” Anya reached forward and grabbed him by the shoulder, almost causing him to swerve. “We’ve got to stop soon, or I’m going to - you know?”

“What?”


Buffy caught a glimpse of his expression in the rear view mirror and she had to bite her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

“Buffy, you don’t need to stop, do you?”

“Well, actually, Spike...” It was the power of suggestion. The more you talked about it, the more you wanted to do it. And now she needed to go too. “Sorry, Spike.”

Spike indicated and changed lanes. “Bloody hell, this is turning into an outing for the incontinent. Right, every one cross your legs for the next mile, and then there’s another service station. Okay?”

They all chorused yes at the same time, which made them laugh.

Anya turned to Buffy. “So, are you coming to the Medieval banquet tonight?”

“That’s where we all get to dress up, right? I’d like that, never been to one before. What about costumes?”

“You can hire them from the Hall. William, Andrew, you’re coming too, aren’t you? Anya leaned forward, and very blatantly stroked the back of Spike’s head, causing another mini-swerve.

“I can’t wait to see you in tights.”

Spike ducked his head as he tried to avoid her hand. “I am not wearing tights, no way.”

“I am,” Andrew chimed up. “I’m doing Robin Hood. Going as, I mean.” He corrected himself hastily as Anya let out a loud snigger. “So, what are you going as, Spike?”

“Myself. I’m not wearing any poncy costume. In fact I’m not going at all.” Spike fed the car on to the slip road and left the motorway for the service station.

Buffy felt a pang of disappointment. She really wanted to go to this. Fancied herself in a long flowing dress with the steeple hat. And she had been fantasising about Spike in some sort of costume. Perhaps not tights exactly, but chain-mail, or something manly. Surely he’d agree to that?

“You could go as a knight, Spike.” She hadn’t spoken to him much on the journey, and it felt a little strange having to watch what she said. “You know, chain mail, that sort of thing. I’m really looking forward to it.”

"Are you?" He sounded a little flustered at that. "Look, I might turn up, but I'm not dressing up. Does that please everyone?"

"Yes,” everyone chorused at the same time, once again, causing more laughter.

“Just be quick, will you.” Spike parked up and they all trooped into the service station.

“So, how am I doing?” Anya took out her lipstick and added another coat to the many she was already wearing.

Buffy took out a comb and swept it through her hair. “Doing with what, Anya?” She wasn’t worried about Anya going after Spike, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

“William. Are you blind, Buffy? Don’t tell me that you don’t fancy him as well.”

Buffy put her comb back in her bag and surveyed herself in the mirror. “Well, of course I fancy him. Everyone does, right? But he’s like, our tutor isn’t he? You know, forbidden fruit and all that. Besides, he’s probably got a girlfriend already. I’d be surprised if he hadn’t.”

Anya’s face fell practically down to her feet. “You think?” Then she brightened. “Never mind, after this weekend, she’ll be the last thing on his mind.”

“Oh yeah.” Buffy was definitely curious now as they walked back to the car. They stopped in the shop and Buffy bought a bag of sandwiches and drinks for everyone.

“So what did you have in mind?” Did she need to worry about this? Of course not, but it looked like Anya was going to be a prize pain-in-the-ass for the whole of the weekend.

“Just wait and see,” Anya replied cryptically. “Let’s just say that the signs are looking very good.” She increased her pace as the car came into view, obviously making a play for the front seat. Spike was leaning against the car smoking a cigarette, which he hastily threw down and stamped out as he saw Buffy approach. She shook her head and mouthed ‘naughty boy’ at him. Last night he’d promised he was giving up. Andrew reappeared, looking disappointed that Anya had grabbed the front seat. He jumped back in surprise as Spike threw him the keys.

“You’re driving, okay?”

Andrew accepted them with good grace and Spike slid into the back seat with Buffy. He strapped himself into his seat belt and turned to her.

“So, Buffy, You’re American, eh. I’ve seen you around, how are you settling in?”

“Quite well, thank you. I’ve been made very welcome.”

“Good, we wouldn’t want you to feel neglected, would we?” Spike winked at her, obviously enjoying himself. Having chosen the seat behind Anya, he was out of her line of sight, but Buffy wasn’t, and she was having to watch her reactions very carefully.

Spike spent the next hour giving her every sexy facial expression he could think of. The tongue between the teeth, the sucking of the bottom lip, and his hand kept straying to his crotch in a very suggestive manner. By the time they stopped to change over drivers again, Anya, who had spent the whole time twisted around, keeping tabs on Buffy, was complaining of a sore neck and Buffy was on the verge of barely contained hysteria.

Part of it was due to Spike’s antics, but the other was due to the fact that Andrew had been watching it all in the rear view mirror and obviously thought it was aimed at him. She’d definitely seen him adjusting the mirror so he could get a better view.

He spent the rest of the journey returning all of the gestures Spike had made, only it didn’t look anything like as sexy. By the time they arrived, Anya was convinced that Andrew had the hots for Buffy, Spike was wondering if Andrew had gone mad, and Buffy seemed to be the only one who had a clue what was going on.


---------------------------


Spike smartly side-stepped Andrew as they both reached into the boot of his car to retrieve their luggage. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been pulling all sorts of funny faces for the last hour of the journey, and for a moment Spike had thought that he was making a play for Buffy. He decided that Andrew must be suffering from some sort of facial tic, and it would be impolite to mention it, but the lad was definitely strange. He hefted out the bags, Buffy’s weighed a ton, and dumped them on the ground.

“Okay, get yourselves checked in. There’s a two hour meeting in the small hall, then there’s that banquet thing.” He picked up Buffy’s bag. “Do you need any help with this?”

“Thanks William.” Buffy stopped her perusal of the old building and turned to him. “Or do you prefer Spike? I’ve heard that’s your nickname.”

“Whatever.” He picked up the bag, wondering if he was going to get Buffy alone for a few minutes before the meeting started. He’d got himself properly worked up, sitting in the back of the car with her and he needed at least a quick snog to tide him over. Then he was going to get to see her dressed as a medieval maiden, and his fertile imagination had already run through all the fantasy role-play opportunities that had to offer. He had a very interesting night in mind for the both of them.

“William, would you get mine too since you’re being such a gentleman?” Anya grabbed hold of Buffy and linked arms with her. “We’ll go on and check us in.”

Spike stood and watched as Buffy was herded into the hotel by Anya. Damn her, she seemed determined to monopolise Buffy. He couldn’t seem to get anywhere near her without that irritating bint popping up. And Andrew was still pulling those funny faces. He blew out a long breath as he watched the girls disappear through the ornate doorway and picked up the rest of the bags. At least he’d managed to fix it so that him and Buffy had rooms next to each other. Sneaking in after lights out should be no problem, as long as Anya left them alone, that was. He caught up with them at the check-in desk, stopping to have a few words with some of the other students who’d just arrived. By the time they got to Buffy’s room, he could barely contain himself.

“Bloody hell, I thought she’d never go,” he said between breathless kisses. “She has to be the most irritating person on the planet.”

He eyed the four poster bed and swept Buffy off her feet and carried her over to it.

“Gonna give this a proper workout tonight, love. Can’t wait to see you in that costume.” He rolled her onto her back and propped himself up on his elbows over her.

“How long have we got Spike?” Her eyes had already gone smoky with desire.

He looked at his watch. “Half an hour, then I’ve got to go get ready. Meeting starts at four. But that gives up more than enough time for...” He dipped his head for a kiss, groaning as her tongue swept into his mouth, sliding his hand up her leg, pulling her skirt with it. She tugged at his sweatshirt and he let her manoeuvre it off him and throw it onto the floor.

They both jumped at the sharp knock on the door.


-----------------------------


Spike leapt off the bed, followed by Buffy, who pushed him towards the bathroom. “I bet it’s Anya, get in there.”


He didn’t seem in any hurry to go, pulling her in for another kiss. “Go now,” she said, peeling him off her and pushing him through the door. He yanked her to him for another kiss, took her hand, and brushed her fingers over the front of his jeans.

“Get rid of her, I’ll be waiting.”

“Buffy!” The knocking continued.

“Coming,” Buffy replied, hastily combing her fingers through her hair and straightening her clothes. She took a calming breath and opened the door. Anya stood there, wearing a bathrobe, and looking a little flushed. She pushed past Buffy and stood in the middle of the room expectantly.

For a moment Buffy thought she was going to ask to use the bathroom. How the hell was she going to explain Spike being in there. What? He’d taken up plumbing in his spare time and was checking the pipes?

“Wanted to show you something.” Anya grabbed the front of her robe and yanked it open, just like a flasher Buffy had seen in a film.

“So, what do you think?”

Buffy just about managed to stop her jaw from hitting the floor. “It’s, umm, it’s very nice.” She felt a bit strange saying that to a woman. A woman who was standing before her wearing some of the raunchiest underwear Buffy had ever seen. Stockings, the lot. Well, that wasn’t quite true, Buffy had quite a bit of raunchy underwear herself, but she didn’t go around flashing other women with it. Was Anya coming on to her as well? She took a step back.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Who?” Buffy’s nonchalance towards Anya was beginning to wear a bit thin.

“William. I’m going to surprise him later on.”

“He’s a man, Anya. Yeah, he’ll like it, and I’m sure he’ll be very surprised. Very surprised indeed.” She raised her voice for the last bit and she could have sworn she heard a choking noise from the bathroom. Anya turned round, and Buffy held her breath. At least Anya didn’t seem to have noticed Spike’s sweatshirt, which was still lying on the floor where it had landed.

“You want to get them to see to those pipes. Gosh Buffy, you must have the most expensive room in this place. Look at that bed.” Anya sauntered over to the four poster and jumped up onto it. “Hey, we could have an orgy on this.” She jumped off again, obviously catching the look Buffy was giving her. “Goodness, loosen up, Buffy. You’re so straight laced. Want me to set you up with someone?” She thought for a moment, completely ignoring Buffy’s attempted protests. “Riley Finn, he doesn’t have a girlfriend, and he’s probably kind of desperate. He could take you to the Banquet.”

“No.” Buffy virtually grabbed hold of Anya, managing to kick the sweatshirt under the bed as she did so, and shepherded her towards the door. “No Riley, please. I’m happy as I am Anya. Don’t need a boyfriend right now, thank you.”

“Everyone reacts like that at the mention of Riley.” Anya shrugged. “Wonder what it is about him, he’s not that bad looking.”

Buffy had to virtually shove her out of the door. “If you don’t mind Anya, I need to take a shower.”

Anya took the hint. “Honestly Buffy, you’d think you had a man in there the way you’re behaving. Where is he, in the wardrobe?”

“Yeah, they’re all in there. You know, the whole group. I’d ask you to stay, but hey...”

Anya laughed and gave her a playful, but rather hard punch on the shoulder. “You’ve got a sense of humour after all. Well, I can’t stand here talking, the meeting’s in fifteen minutes. See you downstairs.”

Buffy closed the door on her at last, then she went into the bathroom. Spike was sitting on the side of the bath, his arms folded, a bored look on his face.

“Has she gone?”

“Yeah, thought I’d never get rid of her.” Buffy looked at her watch. “Well, that’s our spontaneous moment gone.”

“You think?” Spike got up and moved towards her with that swagger he was so good at. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Buffy didn’t put up much of a fight. So she’d have to sit through the meeting with a big grin on her face more than likely, but hey, she had Spike, and Anya didn’t. And that was a secret worth having.


----------------------------------


Spike looked at himself in the mirror. More hair gel, that’s what it needed. He squeezed a generous dollop onto his hand and ran it through his hair, encouraging it to stand up. Bloody medieval banquet. He was only going because Buffy was. He really wanted to see her in that dress, and if he was truthful with himself, also wanted to keep an eye on the other students. He hadn’t missed how the lads had been drooling hopefully after her. She’d given them no encouragement, of course, but they obviously though she was unattached. Maybe he could pull rank on them to sit next to her, without making it too obvious. He took out his mobile phone and dialled her number.


“Hi darling, it’s me, yeah, love you too. Look make sure you sit next to me tonight.”

“What? No, I’m not jealous, well, yeah, I might be a bit. What are you wearing? Yeah, the dress, and underneath?”

“They didn’t?” Spike felt himself getting hot. “Gonna give me a sneak preview?”

“Aww, spoilsport, okay see you downstairs.”

He flicked his phone closed. Now he had that visual to think about all evening. Medieval underwear, or the absence of it. She certainly knew how to get his motor revving, which was good. He just wished he didn’t have so much work to do this weekend. If the prof was up to his usual tricks, he’d bugger off with his new boyfriend and leave it all to him. He locked his door and went downstairs to the lounge. Buffy was sitting on a sofa talking with some of the other students and she looked absolutely gorgeous. Just like he’d imagined her when he’d called her a fairy princess at the well-house. Enchanting, that was the word. She turned and gave him a look that started as a smile but changed to one of barely contained surprised.


------------------------------


He looked great. He always did, Buffy thought, but she really wished he’d dressed in costume. He was going to stand out like a sore thumb. Nobody wore combat boots to a medieval banquet, and the hair? It looked like he’d used a whole tube of gel on it. Very trendy, but totally the wrong period by about eight hundred years. Anya poked her in the ribs with her elbow.

“He is so going to get it tonight.”

“Get what?” Buffy hoped she didn’t mean what she thought she meant.

“From the jester, the MC. They always choose someone to pick on, you know, make jokes about. And it is so going to be William. What’s he done to his hair?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy affected a nonchalant air. “I kinda like it. Bad boy image and all. I guess girls go for that.”

Anya glared at her for a couple of seconds before pasting a cheesy smile on her face. “But you’re not interested, right? Said you didn’t want a boyfriend.”

“But he’s so yummy. Do you think he’d go for an American?”

Anya nearly choked. So much so that Buffy had to thump her on the back. “Calm down Anya, I’m only teasing you. No-go area, remember?”

Anya managed to get herself under control, but she continued to give Buffy suspicious glances. “Don’t know where you got that idea, Buffy. Where do you think the prof is now?”

Buffy didn’t want to know. She looked up, noticing that the rest of the group had begun to make their way to the Great Hall. Suddenly Spike was standing in front of her.

“May I have the pleasure of escorting you in to dinner?”

Buffy and Anya both stood up at the same time.

“Er, both of you, of course.” He crooked both of his elbows and Buffy took one side, while Anya latched on to the other.

Anya let out a howl of laughter. “Oh my god, look at Andrew. He looks a complete prat.”

“Shh, he’ll hear you.” Buffy managed not to laugh, but Andrew did look totally ridiculous. The tights were much too big, so that they sagged around his knees and he had an enormous multi-coloured cod-piece that made him look unfeasibly well-endowed. Along with the curly toed shoes, he made quite a spectacle.

“I thought he was supposed to be Robin Hood.”

Buffy shrugged, hoping that Andrew wasn’t going to sit anywhere near them. They were going to have enough problems with Spike drawing attention to them.


---------------------------


By the time he’d downed his fifth glass of mead, Spike was feeling thoroughly pissed off with the Jester. He’d started on him the minute he’d sat down and he hadn’t let up once. Now he was trying to get Spike to join in with the dancing, just so he could make some more of his stupid-ass jokes, Spike thought. He was dying to go to the bathroom, but he knew that the moment he got up the spotlight would be on him again. He allowed the buxom serving wench to fill up his glass again, hoping he was going to be able to control himself in the face of such provocation. It wouldn’t do to show himself up in front of the undergrads, but if that bloody jester didn’t piss off, then he was going to clock him one there and then.

“Come on love, don’t be shy.” The jester was as gay as they came, or at least he sounded it. He ruffled Spike’s hair. “Ooh, it’s stiff tonight. I’ll be seeing to that later.”

Andrew, who had managed to get on the other side of Spike, let out a huge guffaw at that and spat his drink all over him, causing Spike to nearly fall off his chair. “Oh god, I’m sorry.” He grabbed a napkin and started wiping at Spike’s chest. Spike had to practically fight him off.

The jester opened his mouth to say something else but Spike gave him such an evil look that he closed it again and moved on to Buffy.

“My lady has been in the wars,” he said pointing to her cheek. “But your loveliness remains untouched.” He took Buffy’s hand and made her stand up. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have our Queen of Love and Beauty.” He led a rather bemused looking Buffy up to the stage and sat her on one of the two thrones. “Now we need a king.”

The minute Buffy vacated her seat, Anya moved into it. “Riley Finn.” She shouted it so loud that Spike jumped. Bloody hell, now he wasn’t even going to get to sit next to Buffy. And the jester was all over her. Hands everywhere. He was definitely pretending to be gay.

“Riley Finn.” Anya clapped her hands and encouraged everyone to take up the chant. Riley was dutifully found and hauled up onto the stage.

Spike spent the rest of the evening drinking far too much mead, trapped between Anya and Andrew, who just ‘accidentally’ kept touching his leg, and gazing forlornly at Buffy who hadn’t been allowed to leave the stage.

After an ugly encounter in the men’s toilets, during which he’d threatened to remove some of the jester’s more private parts, he hauled himself off to bed, feeling very sorry for himself, threw off his clothes and waited.

Two hours later he hear the bed creak and he rolled over and reached out for Buffy, smiling to himself as he thought of what she wasn’t wearing under that dress. He put his arms around her as she crawled over him and he threaded his hands into her hair. Which she’d cut? He may have been drunk, but he definitely remembered Buffy having long hair. The woman above him moaned and latched her mouth onto his. He shot his arm out in panic and groped for the bedside lamp. As the light came on, he twisted away and was confronted by a very drunk looking and extremely scantily-clad Anya straddling his thighs. She wasn’t about to let go either. Her mouth came down on his once more and she latched on so tight that it made a loud popping sound as he pulled her off.

“I know you want me William.” She grabbed his face and tried to pull him back in for another kiss. “I’m all yours.”


Spike scooted up towards the headboard. “Anya, what are you doing?”

“This.” She flung herself back on him with abandon, leaving a slobbery trail across his face, and then the door opened and the real Buffy appeared. Spike caught her eye as she put her hand over her mouth and backed hastily out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. Anya meanwhile, had collapsed onto his chest and was snoring lightly. Spike pushed her off and she landed in an untidy heap on the other side of the bed. He stared at her, and then at the door.

Boy was he was in trouble.

Chapter 21


Spike slid out of bed and groped for his jeans. Heck, this couldn’t be happening now. Not after all they’d been through. He hopped into them, nearly falling over in his haste to get them on, and opened the bedroom door. Then ran straight into Buffy who was standing right outside.

“Buffy." He had to make her understand that he would never want anyone but her. “Buffy, what you saw...”

She put her finger to her lips to quieten him. “Shh. You’ll wake the whole floor. It’s okay Spike, I knew where Anya was going, I followed her. I just didn’t want her to see me, that’s all.”

“You did? You didn’t?” Spike tried to get his alcohol-fogged brain to work out what she’d actually said. Was she saying that she’d seen him in bed with another woman and she didn’t mind? That she was prepared to forgive him? She was wonderful! He tried to get his arms around her and give her a hug, but she pushed him off.

“Not now Spike, we’ve got to get Anya to her room. She can’t stay in there.”

“You are the most understanding girlfriend anyone could have, do you know that?” He tried for his best puppy-dog look, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to get an extra bit of forgiveness in. “And that dress, did I mention that you look fantastic in it?” He laid his head on her shoulder and gazed at her. “You’re a fairy princess, that’s what you are.”

Buffy pushed him upright. “Quit messing around Spike. What about Anya?”

Spike stood up, feeling a little offended at the way she was brushing off his compliments. Women! There was just no pleasing them. Then he suddenly remembered the comment she’d made about the medieval underwear, or lack thereof. He pasted what he hoped was a sexy grin on his face and took a handful of the dress, slowly sliding it upwards. “Gonna show me what you’re wearing under this thing?”

“Spike!” Buffy firmly removed his hand and gave it back to him. “Just how much did you have to drink?”

“Can’t remember. Aww come on Buffy, you promised.”

“I did not, and someone’s gonna hear us. Keep it down will you.” He felt himself being propped against the wall as he staggered a little. She had promised, he thought sulkily. She definitely said so on the phone. And she had no right to look so gorgeous. He leaned in for a kiss, lips puckered and realised that she wasn’t there any more. She was peering around the door to his room.

“Come on Spike, she’s still asleep. Let’s get her back to her room while the coast is clear.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” He followed her rather unsteadily into the room, the world tilting at odd angles as he moved. Whoa, that mead packed quite a wallop. Just how many had he drunk?

---------------------------

He was in a very strange mood, she thought, tiptoeing into his room and beckoning him to follow. Anya still lay where she’d landed, and she looked pretty much out of it. Buffy wasn’t sure she wanted Spike man-handling Anya back to her room since the girl was all but naked, but given Spike’s current state of drunkenness, he probably wouldn’t remember any of it anyway. His face had been something else when she’d walked in on them. What on earth had Anya been trying to do to him? No, don’t answer that, she thought. It wasn’t his fault. Anya had had this planned from way back. Still, it had been a bit disturbing seeing them together like that. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she contemplated the best way forward.

“Can you pick her up Spike?” He didn’t look as if he was listening. Instead he was staring straight at Buffy’s cleavage, which was rather revealing. She waved a hand in front of his face. “Spike, are you with me? You’ve got to pick her up. I can’t do it by myself.”

“Let’s shove her in the bathroom, then you can show me that medieval understuff.” He made another play for her skirt but she slapped his hand away.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” she replied in an appalled whisper. “We can’t put her in the bathroom. What if she wakes up?”

“She won’t be waking up any time soon. Plenty of time for you know what.”

Buffy didn’t know what to do with him. He was in a very silly mood, but they did need to move Anya. She’d initiated this, but there was no telling what kind of trouble she could make for Spike. Especially if she woke up in his bathroom, feeling like a scorned woman. Anya seemed very much the type for vengeance, and Spike seemed totally oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. She contemplated him as he swayed before her, a pleasant grin on his face. He didn’t look capable of carrying anyone anywhere.

“Look, you grab her top half, and I’ll take her feet. And please, keep your voice down.”

As she jumped up on to the bed, very hampered by her long dress, she prayed they wouldn’t meet anyone. Most of the students were still at the banquet, but some had to be in their rooms. She’d had to plead for a trip to the bathroom to get away from the jester, who’d been having a wonderful time groping her for most of the evening. It was a good job that Spike had sneaked out early because his glares had been getting darker and darker as the evening wore on, and Buffy had started to be seriously worried at the prospect of a fight breaking out. She slipped her hands under Anya and tried to roll her to the edge of the bed, but she was a dead weight and refused to budge.

“Don’t just stand there, Spike, help me," she hissed. She really wanted Anya out of there, and she was going to get her out if she had to drag her down the corridor herself. Buffy suddenly found herself getting unreasonably angry at the situation. How dare she throw herself at her boyfriend, wearing what she was, or rather wasn’t, wearing. How could she imagine Spike would go for that cheap get-up? Buffy gave Anya another heave and managed to get her to roll over.

“Catch her Spike, she’ll fall off the bed.” God, she so did not want Anya to leave Spike’s room with bruises. “Spike?”

Spike shook his head, and leaned forward to help, at last. He’d definitely been looking at Anya, Buffy thought , with a slight twinge of jealousy. Staring even. Buffy hadn’t ever seen him like this before. She kept reminding herself that he was drunk, but he would never do anything. Not even drunk And he was a man, after all, not a saint as he’d so recently reminded her. She could cope with this. The main thing was to get Anya safely back in her bed. She slid off the bed and went to take hold of Anya’s feet. Anya chose that moment to semi-wake up and start babbling to herself. Buffy held her breath, and grabbed Spike’s hands as he suddenly started to be helpful and lift Anya’s head up. Anya flopped back down again and, crisis over, Buffy let go of Spike’s hands and indicated that he should pick her up.

She was a lot heavier than she looked. Either that or Spike wasn’t pulling his weight in the picking up department. They just about made it to the door without dropping her, then Buffy heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Oh no, this was turning into a French Farce.

And they couldn’t get back into the room fast enough.

“What are you doing?” It was Andrew, also looking a little worse for wear, and also not talking very quietly. “Is this a private orgy, or can anyone join in?” He grinned widely at his own joke, and then peered very closely at Anya.

“Is that...”

How the hell was she going to explain this?

She wasn’t, Buffy decided, and Spike obviously wasn’t going to be any help to her whatsoever. He was frozen in place, staring at Andrew as if he’d suddenly grown two heads. This was no time for back-pedalling and excuses. She could bluff her way out of this.

“Oh, thank god you’ve come,” she said, putting on her most concerned expression. “Poor Anya, she got the wrong room, and then she sort of passed out, and, well, you can see how it looks.”

She nodded at Andrew, who nodded vigorously back, with the sort of look that told her he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Would you mind?” She indicated Anya’s feet to him. "Just help Spike get her to her room, will you?”

Andrew seemed to notice Spike for the first time, and suddenly Buffy had another staring idiot on her hands. Spike and Andrew, both looking at each other like startled rabbits, Andrew’s eyes squarely planted on Spike’s bare chest.

Buffy tapped her foot and pulled a face. “Now would be good.”

The two men both jumped into action at once and between them they managed to haul Anya into her room, which luckily, she’d left unlocked. They dropped her unceremoniously on the bed and tiptoed out. As Buffy was shutting the door she caught a glimpse of the prof disappearing around the corner with his arm around what definitely looked like a man. She shook her head. This was turning into one strange evening.

“Thank you Andrew. You will umm, keep this quiet, won’t you?”

Andrew nodded, still looking a bit dazed, and still reluctantly trying to tear his eyes away from Spike’s chest. Spike, to give him his due, was starting to look rather embarrassed by the whole affair. Buffy decided she’d already forgiven him for the ogling of Anya, back there, but she couldn’t resist the thought of having some fun at Spike’s expense later on. “Well, goodnight Andrew, and thanks.” Why wasn’t he going? She couldn’t take Spike to her room until Andrew disappeared and he didn’t look like he was going anywhere.

“I’ve got a bottle of whiskey in my room,” he suddenly said. “Would you like to...”

“No. I mean,” Buffy affected a big yawn. “Goodness I’m tired, Sorry Andrew, I’ve just got to get to bed. And Spike, he’s tired too, aren’t you Spike?”

“Uhhm yes.” Spike joined in with the yawning, a little too enthusiastically for Buffy’s liking. She didn’t want Andrew to suspect what was really going on. After a few beats he waved them a goodnight and they all set off for their rooms. Buffy went into hers and decided to wait a few minutes to let Andrew get safely into his. She brushed her teeth and refreshed her perfume. Spike looked so good without a shirt, she thought, feeling all glowy inside. It had really started to get her in the mood.

She peered out, found the coast clear and scuttled into Spike’s room. He was already in bed, cuddled up with his pillow, and, unfortunately, fast asleep. She looked at him fondly, and reached over to smooth his hair off his face. It was stiff with the huge quantity of gel that he’d used. Poor Spike. She’d never seen him look as insecure as he had tonight. She’d seen him sad and vulnerable, angry and sorry for himself, but this was something else.

She slipped out of the dress, draping it carefully across a chair and took off the underwear she’d been going to surprise him with. A rather redundant gesture after Anya, she thought, but never mind. At the end of the day, she was still the one getting into bed with Spike, and staying the whole night. And lot’s of nights after that. Poor Spike. He really didn’t need this after what they’d just been through. She wrestled the pillow out of the death grip he had on it, and pulled him into her arms. He did a quick snuggle and settled back into sleep. Then she switched the light off and held him as she thought about the little boy who’d lost his mother, who had grown into the man who wrote erotic poetry, and computer games. The man who loved her, and who at this precise moment she loved with such an intensity that if she put it all into a hug, she’d be in danger of squeezing him to death.

Lovely, sexy, beautiful Spike. And, she thought smugly, he’s mine, all mine. So there, Anya!

----------------------------

Spike woke up without much of a hangover, which considering how much he’d had to drink, was remarkable. He was however, alone and he couldn’t remember whether Buffy had spent the night with him or not. He did remember the debacle with Anya, though, and he cringed inwardly as he got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. What the hell had she been playing at? Well, that was obvious, but what was she going to do next? She could make trouble for him, that was for sure. He only hoped that she’d be as embarrassed as he was about it and maybe they could quietly forget about it. And Buffy - was she mad at him? He had to know.

“Buffy?” He changed his phone to his other hand, picked up a comb, and squinted into the mirror. What the hell was wrong with his hair? It had set like concrete.

“No, I’m fine, about last night...” He breathed a sigh of relief as she answered him cheerfully. At least she didn’t sound mad at him. In fact there was a definite giggle in her voice.

“I did what on the stage? I don’t remember that.” Spike felt himself getting hot. “You’re joking, Buffy, please tell me you’re joking.” He heard another giggle and then she went into great detail about something involving a chastity belt and suit of armour. “Christ, Buffy, tell me I didn’t. Please say I didn’t.” The trouble was, that he did remember both the chastity belt and the suit of armour, he just couldn’t make the connection between him and them. And Buffy had lost it totally now.

“Okay, okay, you got me there. Very funny.” He deserved it he supposed, but did this mean that he was forgiven for the Anya incident? “Look, Buffy...You do? God you’re wonderful. See you downstairs. Love you.”

He snapped his phone shut feeling mightily relieved. Not that he doubted that Buffy would believe him, but it hadn’t looked good. And how would he have felt if he’d found Buffy in that position with Riley, or one of the other students? He hoped he’d never have to find out. Now all he had to do was face Anya, who unfortunately was in his group for the morning meeting. He finished dressing, grabbed the folder of handouts and made his way downstairs, hoping that the prof was going to turn up for a change. The students had to be organised into groups and sent off on location to get whatever inspiration they could for a piece of poetry, and they were all going to present what they’d written at the end of the day.

This was at least his chance to get Buffy alone. She didn’t know these parts, so he had a perfectly legitimate excuse to be her escort for the day. There was no way Anya was going to want to go with them, was there? But there was the problem of getting rid of Andrew, who had managed to perfect his leech impersonation and was even now running to catch up with him as he made his way down the stairs.

“Morning, Spike,” he panted. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Spike slowed down. Andrew may be annoying, but he was an undergrad, and Spike felt kind of responsible for him. “You don’t look so good though. Rough night?”

“A bit.” Andrew grabbed Spike’s arm. "Your secret is safe with me.” He spoke in a very loud whisper, and winked several times.

Oh hell, Spike suddenly remembered Andrew’s involvement in last night, and the poor lad still had that facial tic. “Uhh, last night? You sure you got the right person Andrew?” Denial. That was going to be the only way out of this mess. He’d just deny everything and maybe Andrew would leave him alone.

But Andrew wasn’t giving up that easily. “Last night. You know with...” A light bulb suddenly seemed to go on over his head. “Oh, I get it. Last night didn’t happen. Of course, Spike.” He laid his hand dramatically on Spike’s arm and gave him another knowing wink. “My lips are sealed.”

Spike removed Andrew’s hand and moved hastily away from him. It was suddenly beginning to dawn on him what all the funny looks were about. “Well that’s sorted then. Good lad.” He handed him the folder of handouts. “Look after these for me will you? They’re very important, make sure everyone gets one.”

Andrew beamed as he took the folder. “Sure thing Spike, you want me to go now?”

“Yes please. Umm, I’ve got something to do.” Spike watched him turn the corner of the stairs, giving him a good head start before he followed him. Bloody hell, he hoped those moon-faces Andrew was giving him weren’t what they thought they were. That’s all he needed.

------------------------------

“Alone at last.”

Buffy slipped her arm around Spike’s waist and contemplated the view. Nothing like the Great Lakes, or Niagara Falls, but Lake Windemere was charming in a very English sort of way. And it satisfied the American tourist side of her which had always imagined that England looked just like this. They were sitting on the deck of the boat that took excursions along the length of the lake, and thankfully neither Anya, nor Andrew were with them.

Buffy took the tourist brochure from Spike. “Can we go to the Beatrix Potter Museum? Peter Rabbit is so cute.”

“Yeah, anything you say darling.” Spike leaned in for a nibble of her ear, then trailed a line of kisses down her neck. “After last night, I’m your slave, Buffy. I don’t deserve you.”

Buffy laughed. He hadn’t left her alone for a minute since they’d got on the boat. She’d already said there was nothing to forgive a dozen times, but he seemed determined to prove how contrite he was. She smoothed her wind-swept hair back and reached into her pocket for her notebook. “Okay, inspiration.”

Spike favoured her with one of his sexy grins. “I could help with that.”

“It’s not that sort of poem, got to be about nature and, Spike, stop that, people are watching.”

“Don’t care.” He hooked his arm around her neck and kissed her hard on the lips. “Let them look, I don’t care who knows.”

Buffy kissed him back, she didn’t really want to say no, and then pulled back to look at him.

“But what about the student-teacher relationship. Haven’t we got to be careful?”

Spike leaned his head on her shoulder. “Look I’ll have a quiet word with the prof. He’s the one that counts in this, and the other students aren’t going to say anything, are they?”

“Anya might. Spike, can you imagine how she’d going to feel if she sees us together? You rejected her and then she sees you with me. She could make all sorts of trouble.”

“Yeah, I’d thought about that.” Spike’s head stayed on her shoulder, his hand running lightly up and down her jean-clad thigh. “Would you have a word with her, woman to woman, like? I don’t have a clue what to say to her.”

Buffy’s heart sank. Someone had to talk to Anya. Find out what her take on last night was, and unfortunately, Spike was right. It would be better coming from her. “Okay, but I don’t have to tell her about us yet. Do I?”

“S’pose that can wait.” Spike stood up as the boat started to dock. “But she’s gonna find out.”

Buffy took his hand as he pulled her up. “I’m not looking forward to it, she’s had this planned for weeks.”

“Then you should have told me, Buffy. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I didn’t think for a minute she'd go through with it. My bad. Which way’s the museum Spike? I don’t want to talk about Anya, I’ve got a poem to write.”

“I hate to tell you this, but Wordsworth did not write Peter Rabbit. And you’re getting very good at changing the subject.”

“Well, I learnt from a master.” Buffy took his hand and pulled him after her. “Are you gonna show me the way or not? Cool, a souvenir shop, come on.”

She bought a variety of things that she thought her father would like and paid an outrageous sum of money too have them parcelled and shipped to the States. Her father. That was another conversation she was going to have to have when they got back. It was nice being all grown up at last, but boy, was it complicated at times.

As luck would have it the first person they bumped into when they got to the museum was Andrew. He was still very much in ‘being- discrete-about-last-night’ mode, although Buffy thought he definitely looked a little surprised to see her and Spike together again. Spike actually managed to pay for something, at last, and despite her protests, he insisted on buying her the biggest cuddly Peter Rabbit they had in the shop. And then, as they were leaving, they walked straight into Anya, who was looking very much worse -for- wear.

It took her about five seconds to suss out what was going on. Buffy couldn’t help the glowy feeling she had inside as she walked beside Spike, carrying her big, stuffed rabbit, and even though they weren’t touching it was obvious they were a couple. Anya lifted her sunglasses and stared at them, a range of emotions playing over her face. Disbelief, hurt, embarrassment, surprise and betrayal. Then she spun round and walked away. Buffy made to go after her, but Spike stopped her.

“She’s a big girl, Buffy, she’ll get over it.”

“But she looked so upset, Spike. Let me go after her.”

“It’ll only make matters worse. Let her go.”

Buffy looked from Spike to Anya’s retreating form. She only had herself to blame, really, but she couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Okay, so last night she’d been feeling smug that she’d got the prize, and Anya hadn’t, but heck, the girl looked so upset.

“She’s gonna win the poetry contest, Spike.”

“How’s that?”

“Angst. Bucket-loads of it. We don’t stand a chance.”

-----------------------------

Buffy was right. Anya turned in a poem of such gut-wrenching heartbreak, while still managing to fulfil the ‘nature’ brief, that even the prof. was moved. She duly collected her prize, stopping on the way back to her seat to give Buffy a look of smug condescension. Oddly enough that made Buffy feel better. She had deceived Anya, so she deserved it, but Anya’a behaviour had been appalling, so Buffy decided to stop feeling sorry for her.

Anya cornered her briefly as the meeting broke up. “You should have told me Buffy. About you and Spike, you made me make a proper fool of myself." She folded her arms and looked as if she was waiting for Buffy to reply.

Buffy didn’t know what to say. Which was lucky because Anya wasn’t going to let her get a word in anyway.

“Had a good laugh behind my back did you? Well, you’ll be pleased to know I won’t be requiring a lift home. I have other friends.” She turned and walked away, leaving Buffy with her mouth still half-open. Then she stopped and turned back. “And I’d be careful if I were you. Spike’s practically your teacher, in case you hadn’t noticed. In this country, it’s just not done.”

Heck, Buffy thought, you’re one to talk, but maybe she was right about the other thing. If she’d told Anya straight out about her and Spike, then this disaster would have been averted. But what if Anya had decided to make a thing of it, and got Spike into trouble? Were they worrying about nothing? Did anyone really care? Spike had said that she should have told him about Anya, and recalling that made her remember that other thing she hadn’t told him yet. About the time Dru had come to his flat. Was that still important? She snapped out of her reverie as Spike came over to her.

“Group of students are going down to the pub. Feel I ought to go.” He looked at her enquiringly. “All cosy and countrified with the log fire and everything, you’ll like it. Yes?"

She nodded absently. She should tell him about Dru. Would he be mad that she hadn’t?

“Okay, Spike,” she picked up her notebook and slung her bag over her shoulder. “I’d like that. I’ll get my coat.” She went back to her room thinking that secrets weren’t a good thing in a relationship. But, she’d been working from the best of intentions, because she really believed that if she had told him there would have been trouble, and Dru seemed crazy enough for anything.

Buffy found her coat and slipped it on. She needed to return the costume too - it was still on it’s hanger. She picked it up and draped it over her arm, intending to hand it in when she went down, but then she hung it up again. She still owed Spike his little medieval fantasy, and perhaps when he was in a very good mood, she’d tell him about Dru.

Chapter 22

Author's note. Many thanks to LadyAnne, my beta for writing the fic "Lancelot and Guinevere" that provided the inspiration for this next chapter.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


After the trip to the pub most of the group wanted to go on to a night club in the next town. Spike declined their invitation to join them because he had work to catch up on, and someone actually commented that Buffy looked tired, which gave her the perfect excuse not to go either. That left Buffy and Spike and another couple who had hooked up during the trip. They talked for a few moments until it was obvious that the couple wanted to be left alone, so Spike rose and handed Buffy her coat.

“Come on Buffy, I’ll walk you back. See you tomorrow, guys.”

They walked out into a crisp, moonlit night where everything seemed to be washed with silver. Buffy shivered and Spike slipped his arm around her as they made their way down the lane that led to the hotel.

“Have you enjoyed the trip?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, it’s been interesting.”

Spike stopped and turned her to face him. “I am so sorry about Anya.”

“I know, Spike. You’ve got to get over it. You wouldn’t have done anything, would you?”

“No, of course not. You didn’t think I would have, did you?”

“No, I trust you Spike, and I love you very, very much.” She went up on tip-toe for a kiss and for a few moments they were both lost in it.

They resumed their stroll, Buffy marvelling at how beautiful the distant hills looked, washed in moonlight. She wondered if Spike was worried that he might have done something with Anya. He had been very drunk last night, but she rejected the thought. She did trust Spike implicitly, but she was having a hard time convincing him of that.

“Spike.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve still got the dress.”

“Yeah.” His fingers gripped her arm slightly.

“I could put it on for you. You didn’t really get to appreciate it last night.”

“No, I didn’t, Buffy I’m...”

“Spike, don’t say you’re sorry again. You are so forgiven.”

“Okay, I won’t mention it again, promise.”

“So, what was that medieval fantasy you were dreaming about? I’m open to suggestions.”

“You are? It was something I read on the Internet. A fanfic actually.”

“You read fanfiction on the Internet?”

“And you don’t?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, not the slightest bit embarrassed by his admission.

“Well, yeah. What was it about?”

“Well, there was this couple right, and he loved her, and she loved him.”

“With you so far, Spike.”

“But, she thought being with him was wrong, but she couldn’t stay away, so she made up this little fantasy about them being Lancelot and Guinevere. Then they could be together, and somehow it didn’t seem wrong because they weren’t themselves.”

“But that’s not us, Spike. There’s nothing wrong with us being together, well apart from not being able to tell anyone about us this weekend.” She nodded. “Yeah, I sort of see where you’re coming from.”

“How do you fancy being Guinevere to my Lancelot, just for tonight?”

They reached the steps of the hotel and went inside.

“Did it have a happy ending, Spike?”

“Don’t know yet. From the way it’s playing out, I suspect not.”

Buffy wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “But we will, won’t we?” She couldn’t keep the note of anxiety out of her voice. Role playing, simple as this suggestion was, always involved a lot of trust. She trusted Spike, but she wasn’t sure what he wanted of her here.

“Count on it Buff. Heck, there’s the prof, I’ll have to say hello. Look, why don’t you go upstairs and, umm get changed. I’ll join you in a minute.”

She entered her room, took off her clothes and slipped into the dress. She’d worn a low-cut bra last night, but she didn’t tonight. Luckily the dress had a well shaped bodice that gave some support, but she so very rarely went bra-less that it felt strange. She looked at herself in the mirror, cupping her breasts and letting them drop. Perky enough to get away with it. Then she set about her hair. It ought to be down, she thought, taking out the clips and reaching for her brush.

And then there was that other piece of underwear. She knew what he really wanted, although she’d been the one to plant the thought in his head. She finished brushing her hair, then wriggled out of her panties and stuffed them into her case. Going pantie-less was definitely something she’d never done before, and she was amazed at how erotic the soft velvet felt against her bare skin. At least they didn’t have to worry about visible panty lines in those days, she thought, inspecting her rear view in the mirror. Would she have been able to go to the banquet like this, and would anybody have been able to tell? Poor Spike. He must have worked himself up into a frenzy thinking about it, and then that jester had grabbed her and kept her on the stage all evening. No wonder he’d got himself so drunk. And where was he? Who’d have thought going medieval would be such a turn-on. She lifted the skirt and let it slide down her legs, then twirled around. Come on Lancelot, where are you?

----------------------------

Spike opened Buffy’s door and called softly to her. The room was dark, except for the bedside lamp, which illuminated Buffy’s form on the bed. She was propped up against the pillows and wearing the dress, the light making a sort of halo around her head. He felt his pulse start to race as he moved towards her, all thoughts of fantasy role-playing disappearing beneath the need to be inside her right now. It was starting to seem like an eternity since he’d made love to her and Lancelot would just have to wait. He grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt and tee-shirt together and pulled them over his head, dropping them on the floor as he walked over to the bed. Then unlaced his boots and kicked them aside as his hand moved to her ankle and began to slowly slide the material up her leg, sensuously caressing her silky skin with the velvet. He climbed up beside her, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, which were suddenly much too tight for comfort, and his breath started coming in short gasps as he watched his hand travelling higher and higher, and felt her legs moving restlessly under his attention.

“My lord is very late. Where has thou been?”

She startled him out of his daze. “Uhh?”

“Has thou been with a serving wench?”

“What, a who? No.” Spike tried to refocus on what his hand was doing but Buffy’s big grin was somewhat putting him off.

“Why art thou wearing such strange attire, my Lancelot?”

“Umm,” Spike looked down at his jeans. “I’m from the future.”

Buffy exploded with laughter and rolled over on to her side. “Cans’t thou not do better than that?”

“No, I cans’tn’t. Bloody hell, what kind of word is that?” He sat back on his heels and ran a hand through his hair. It wasn’t working. Buffy couldn’t keep a straight face, and now he was feeling a bit of a prat. All he wanted to do was find out what she had under the dress, then take it off her.

Buffy rolled onto her back and composed herself. “Okay, let’s try again, call me by my name.”

“Buffy.”

“Not that one, come on Spike, this was your idea.”

“Guinevere.”

“Yes my Lord.”

“Umm, what art thou wearing under, umm, thy dress?”

“That’s no question to ask a lady, my lord.”

“And art thou a lady?” he said, his hand moving in to finish what it had started.

“Yes I bloody well art,” Buffy said, mimicking his accent. Then she doubled up and exploded with laughter once more. “I’m sorry Spike, I can’t do this. I keep thinking of you in tights, and...eek.”

Spike unzipped his jeans and rolled her onto her back, then he grabbed the skirt, pushed it up to her waist and moved on top of her. “Sod Lancelot," he said, capturing her mouth with his. He felt her hands pushing his jeans down, and he reached down to help her. He kicked them off with a little difficulty, and groped in the back pocket for a condom, since she hadn’t said it was safe to go without one yet, then he sheathed himself and settled between her thighs. Her ankles went around his waist, locking him to her as he slowly slid inside.

He didn’t think he’d last long, and he didn’t, but he did manage to remember to say Guinevere instead of Buffy as he gasped out his release, and he was vaguely aware of her almost screaming the word Lancelot as she clamped around him and sent him to his own special heaven. When he’d got enough breath back to talk, he lifted his head and grinned at her. She grinned back at him, looking like the cat that got the cream.

“God, Guin, you’ll be the death of me if you keep doing that.”

“Verily, but what a way to go, my Lancelot.”

“Yeah, verily.” He let his head fall back onto her breasts and started nuzzling them gently, his hand sweeping up her thigh and over her hip.

“By the way, love your medieval underwear.”

----------------------------------------

Two days later, Spike and Xander were just finishing up working on the computer game.

“And then she turned up apparently. Buffy’s only just told me.” Spike picked up his coat and followed Xander out of his flat. “Nice job, Xan, You finished that contract work yet?"

“Yeah, mostly.” Xander waited while Spike locked up. “You gonna tell me what the deal is about Dru?”

“I already did, mate. She’s into something bad. Don’t know what exactly, you know what she can be like.”

They strolled the few hundred yards to the pub, Xander pumping Spike for information about Dru, and Spike reluctantly telling him.

“You should have told me this a long time ago, Spike. Who is this Johnny guy? I ought to go punch his lights out.”

“Whoa.” Spike stopped and turned to his friend. "He’s big-time, Xan. Got Dru and her friends running around him like minions, but that’s just a front. Like’s to make out he’s just one of the regulars, but he’s not.”

“What, we’re talking gangsters here?”

Xander was starting to look genuinely worried and Spike was beginning to wish they’d never started this conversation.

“We might be, I don’t know.” They reached the pub and walked inside. Spike fished in his pocket for some money. “How is Dru?” He had to ask, hadn’t abandoned her completely.

“Crazy as ever, crazier if that’s possible. Spike, why didn’t you tell me all this?”

Spike caught the barmaid's eye and ordered two pints. “So you’d do what? Get yourself beaten up?”

Xander accepted the beer and followed Spike to a table. “It’s better than doing nothing, Spike. She’s in trouble, and she needs us.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Dru had always done her own thing. Gone her own way. Short of putting her in a cage, there was no stopping her.

“Look, Xan, do you want me to talk to her?" Spike didn’t relish the thought, but he knew that’s what Xander really wanted.

“Would you, I mean, would it do any good?”

“Probably not, if she’s addicted Xan, then it’s not a talking problem any more.”

“I know.” Xander ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up at odd angles. “What if me and you go and see Johnny together? We’ve got to do something Spike. Go to the police or something. Get him put away.”

“Yeah.” Spike got out his cigarettes. "Supposed to be giving these up. Buffy’d kill me if she saw me. There’s something else, Xan. I’m pretty sure Dru’s been dealing too. Johnny goes down, then she does.“

“Bloody hell. Anything else you didn’t you tell me?” Xander was starting to look distraught. He took a large gulp of his drink, then slammed the glass back down on the table, sending beer sloshing everywhere. Several people looked round to see what the commotion was and Spike had to grab Xander’s arm to stop him getting up.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m going to see Johnny.” He shook Spike’s hand off, kicked back his chair and took off towards the exit.

Spike took a hasty swig of his own beer and followed him. Xander had no idea what he was messing with, but if he was insisting on doing this, he owed it to him to be by his side. He caught up with Xamder just outside the pub, narrowly avoiding being run over by a black, stretch limo that was just cruising past. The car stopped and a suited gentleman got out.

“William Giles?”

Spike stopped in his tracks. “Who’s asking?” The suited gent did not look friendly. In fact, Spike knew exactly what he looked like. One look at Xander’s face, and he knew that Xander was thinking the same thing. Spike backed up slowly, his hands up, palms forward. “Look, we don’t want any trouble. We’ll just be on our way.” He glanced around as another identically dressed gentleman got out of the other side of the limo.

“We just need you to come for a short ride, sir. Get in the car, please.”

“Sod off.” Spike was starting to sweat now. He tried to back up, but they were on either side of him, and before Xander could help him he was pushed into the car in one smooth move and they were away.

“What the fuck’s going on?” he demanded, sounding more confident than he felt as he stared at the two enormous men flanking him. There was no way he was going to beat then in a fight.

“Did Johnny send you?”

The first big man looked at him innocently. “Who, sir?”

“Johnny. Drug-dealer.” Spike waved his hand around the car. “This is just about his style. What the hell does he want with me?”

The second gent flicked a catch and a drinks’ cabinet appeared in the back of the seat in front of them.

“Why don’t you have a drink and relax.” He picked up a bottle. “Good vintage, this.” Then he gave Spike a benevolent smile.

“The boss just wants a little word with you, sir, that’s all. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Chapter 23

Xander rang Buffy's doorbell, and waited as the light went on in the hall. What the hell was he going to tell her about Spike? He didn't know himself what had happened, only that he'd trawled around all of Dru and Johnny's haunts and there'd been no sign of any of them. Spike could be lying beaten up in some back alley right now, or even worse. What the hell did he tell Buffy?

She answered the door, looking as perky as ever, motioning him into the house.

"It's Xander, Will," she shouted back over her shoulder. "He's early."

He followed her into the kitchen, practising in his mind what he was going to say. Spike's been kidnapped by gangsters. It sounded so bizarre. Things like that just didn't happen. Not where he came from, anyway.

"Grab yourself a beer, and come join us" She pointed to the television room. "It's a bit of a chick-flick, but it's nearly over. Spike's not here yet." She left him to get his beer and rejoined Willow. Xander opened the bottle and followed her, leaning down to peck Willow on the cheek, and then he propped himself on the arm of the chair.

"Er, Buffy, I've got something to tell you."

Willow pulled him down next to her and cuddled up to him. "Can't it wait? We've just got to the really weepy bit. Look, he's about to propose."

Xander watched the screen for a few moments, stealing glances at Buffy, who was curled up on the sofa opposite. She needed to know, and soon. They couldn't just sit here, they had to do something.

"Spike's been kidnapped by gangster - drug - dealers." He hadn't meant to blurt it out quite so loudly and both the girls said shh at the same time, neither of them seeming to have actually taken in what he'd said. They all continued to watch the film for a few more moments, then Buffy looked up at him, her eyes wide.

"What was that?"

"It's Spike. Switch off the telly, this is serious."

Buffy scuttled over to switch off the television while Willow turned her anxious gaze to him.

"What's happened to Spike?" She looked around, as if she'd only just noticed he was missing. Buffy?"

Buffy stared at Xander as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. "Say that again, did you say Spike's been kidnapped? You're joking, right?"

"Big black limo. Waiting for us outside the pub. They just grabbed him."

"But who'd want to kidnap Spike, it just doesn't make any sense?"

Xander looked away. This was all because of Dru, and she was his sister so that made this his fault by association. He knew it wasn't his fault really, but he felt guilty anyway.

It looked as if Buffy had suddenly worked it out too. "It's Dru isn't it? What the hell's she done with my Spike?"

Willow rose and stood by the now-distraught Xander. "It's not Xander's fault, Buffy. I'm sure he did all he could."

Buffy immediately looked contrite. "I didn't mean...tell me what happened. Is he in danger? Oh god, he's in danger."

Xander just stood there, nodding his head and feeling responsible. He'd been totally useless when it had happened. Should have done something.

"Don't panic." He took Buffy's hand and looked into her frightened eyes. "I'm sure he's going to be okay. He'll probably walk through that door any minute now, you know, with the coat and the hair and the, oh god, do you think we should call the police?"

---------------------------------

Spike had no option but to go along quietly. The two suited gentlemen flanking him weren't just big, they were enormous and the best he could hope for was that he'd find an opening and run. He certainly didn't want to take them on in a fight, although he was thinking, with some trepidation, that it might come to that. Was Dru behind this? She couldn't hate him that much, but there was no telling what she was up to these days. He fervently hoped that they were just going to give him a stern talking to on her behalf, but he doubted it.

They'd stopped at a five star hotel in the centre of town and politely asked him to accompany them up to the penthouse suite, sat him down in an armchair, supplied him with a whiskey and then just stood, one on each side of the chair as if they were guarding him. It was all starting to get rather surreal. Spike realised that they were doing the psychological mind games bit. Trying to spook him, soften him up for when whoever was responsible turned up. And it was working. He'd done some wild things in his life but being kidnapped by gangsters was starting to rank pretty high in the new experiences stakes.

The three of them sat in total silence for all of ten minutes. The two 'heavies' didn't say a word, or even move much except to breathe. Spike just sat there, slightly stunned and wondered whether his life should be flashing before his eyes or something. He had no idea how serious this was going to turn out to be, but as time passed he was starting to wonder if he'd ever see Buffy again. It was nearly seven o' clock. Him and Xander should have been at her house by now, and Xander would have gone round and told her what had happened. She'd be frantic.

Suddenly the door to the adjoining room opened and Spike downed the whiskey in one gulp. Here it comes, he thought. He got to his feet to meet the middle-aged man who was making his way towards him and one of the 'heavies' went to push him down, but Spike shook him off.

"What the hell's this about?" he shouted, sounding braver than he actually felt. "You open that sodding door and let me out of here, now."

The middle-aged gentleman extended his hand towards Spike and gave him a restrained smile. "So, you're William Giles, otherwise known as Spike. I believe you know my daughter."

Spike stopped. Everything suddenly clicking in place. He tried not to show the relief he was feeling. Buffy's dad, not Johnny. He wasn't sure if it was much of an improvement on the situation, but at least Buffy's dad probably wasn't going to shoot him and throw him in the river with a concrete block tied to his feet.

His next reaction was anger. Now that he knew he wasn't in any real danger he felt a lot braver, but he knew he had to be careful what he said. Buffy and her dad were close and despite her standing up to him recently there was a lot of history there. He shook hands and looked Mr. Summers squarely in the eye.

"Mr Summers." He needed to say this, and he needed to say it first. No doubt Buffy's dad had a speech prepared too, but Spike knew he'd have the advantage if he got in first.

"I love Buffy and she loves me." God, that sounded like an awful cliche but it was the truth and there was no other way to say it. "Please don't make her go home. She wants to be here with me."

Buffy's dad made no attempt to interrupt him as he spoke, but he had a look on his face that told Spike that he was used to getting his own way, and whatever Spike said it was going to make no difference. His only reply was, "Why don't we ask Buffy?"

----------------------------

"Daddy!" Buffy couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her father, here? He was the last person she'd expected to see when she'd answered the door. She went to fling her arms around him and then she noticed Spike standing behind him. "Spike?" Her eyes moved from her father to Spike. Okay, now she was confused. But not for long. It didn't take much to make the jump from a big black limo to her dad. She dropped her arms and folded them in front of her. "Okay dad, just what's going on?"

"Why don't you invite me in, then you can find out."

Buffy suddenly remembered her manners. "Please," she motioned them indoors, feeling her courage slipping as it always did when her father was involved. She raised her eyebrows at Spike who gave her a brief nod to show that he was okay, then she managed to squeeze his hand without her father noticing. Buffy hurried after her father, who was now in the television room introducing himself to a rather dazed Xander and Willow.

Hank gave the room an approving glance. "I chose well, is everything okay for you?"

"Yeah, come here daddy." Buffy couldn't help it. She had no doubt that she wasn't going to be at all happy with her father when she found out what he'd been up to, but she was pleased to see him now. She gave him a hug and a kiss, but was careful to go and stand back by Spike when she'd done it. Stand by your man, and all that, she thought. And she was, and proud of the fact. She slipped her arm through Spike's and cuddled up to him, watching her father's eyes narrow as she did so. "It's nice to see you 'n'all dad, but why are you here?"

"To see if my little girl's okay, of course." He reached over and lightly caressed her injured cheek. "Who did this?"

"I don't know, daddy. They sorta came out of nowhere. I'm so sorry about the car."

Hank waved his hand as if it was nothing. "Never mind the car, it's you I'm worried about."

Behind him Willow and Xander were making their way surreptitiously to the door. Buffy gave them a wave as they scooted out.

"I told you, I'm alright. Look, why don't we sit down?"

They all sat. Spike hadn't said a word yet, and Buffy couldn't blame him. This was between her and her dad.

"You're coming home with me Buffy." It wasn't a request, more of a command.

"No." Buffy and Spike both spoke together. She squeezed his knee, causing her dad's eyes to narrow even more.

"Is he living here?"

"No, got my own place." Spike sounded insulted at that.

"He's a poet, dad, and he has a computer company, and he's doing okay, and I love him." Buffy stopped for breath. This was hard. Her dad could do an even better hurt -puppy look than Spike, and it got her every time. Except this one. "I want to stay," she looked at Spike, then at her dad, "and I'm going to whether you like it or not."

Hank laughed. "Has she told you what she was like when she was a kid?" This was addressed to Spike. "A lot like this really."

"Daddy!" Buffy felt herself going red. "Spike knows all about me. I've never been this happy. Can't you be happy for me?"

"Not when you're being attacked and having your car stolen. What kind of country is this?"

"It's a lot safer than the States, Mr. Summers. But you do know that kind of thing could happen anywhere." Spike put his arm around Buffy's shoulders and she leaned in to him, grateful of the support he was giving her. Not that she doubted he would, but she had no idea what had passed between him and her father.

"Okay William, or should I call you Spike? Just what are your intentions towards my daughter? She's going to be a very wealthy woman one day. You have to realise why I'm suspicious."

Spike didn't rise to the bait, for which Buffy gave a silent prayer of thanks. She was used to her dad's behaviour, but even to her this was sounding outrageous.

"I've told you how I feel, Mr. Summers. Just wanna make her happy."

"And I am daddy, can't you see that?" She really didn't want to fall out with her dad. Didn't want it to come down to a choice between him and Spike, because she already knew who she'd choose. And it would break her heart.

Hank leaned back and draped his arm casually across the back of the sofa. "So, you're not coming then?"

"No."

"I could take the house."

"I'll move in with Spike." She said it with no hesitation. His only reaction was a slight squeeze of her shoulder where his arm rested.

Her dad gave an even bigger laugh at that. "You, in that place. You wouldn't last a week."

"I've changed, daddy. I've learnt that there are some things in life more important than money. And how do you know where Spike lives? Have you been spying on us?" She felt herself going red again. Just how much did he know? He'd have to find out the extent of her relationship with Spike some time, but it was still embarrassing having your parents confront you about your sex life. No matter how old you were.

Hank turned to Spike. "Do you know how much this girl spends on clothes alone? She'd keep the fashion industry in business by herself. Can you give her all that?"

"No, but that's not really the point, is it?" Spike was starting to sound annoyed, and Buffy really didn't want this to degenerate into name-calling.

"Please, this is getting us nowhere. Daddy, it's nice to see you, but I want to finish this year at least. I'm doing well on this course. Just give me a chance."

Hank thought about it for a moment. "Okay, honey, but you've got to let me set up some security for you. It's obvious you're a target."

"Then I'll never learn to stand on my own two feet. No way, daddy." She hated having to plead with him, but if she didn't have this out now she was never going to grow up. Never going to be free.

"Honey..."

"No. Please don't let's fight. I love you and I don't want you to go home hating me."

"No, Buffy, don't say that. I'd never hate you, you're my..."

"Little girl, I know, " Buffy finished for him. "Look at me daddy, you don't have a little girl any more."

"I will soon."

Buffy's eyes went as wide as saucers. "What did you say?"

"You're going to have a sister, in February."

Buffy sat, stunned. "A sister, but how?"

"The usual way, you know, two people..."

"Daddy!" She couldn't take it in. Didn't even know he had a girlfriend, let alone this. And sex? Her daddy having sex? Could this get more embarrassing? .

"Who? When? I mean, I had no idea you were seeing anyone." Her dad was suddenly looking very pleased with himself.

"My new secretary, Joyce. What, you think only you youngsters are having sex?"

Spike made a small choking noise and Buffy covered her face with her hands. When she peeked out between her fingers, her dad was still grinning, obviously enjoying their discomfort. This was her dad alright. In full flow now, gaining the upper hand, like he always did, by fair means or foul.

She slowly lowered her hands. "A sister. That's..." She didn't really know how she felt about it. Would have loved to have had a sister when she was younger, someone to play with and do things with. If she had, then maybe her and her dad wouldn't have come to depend on each other quite so much. Then it dawned on her that this was just what she'd needed to happen. She wasn't only gaining a sister, she was gaining her independence, at last. With a new baby to look after and be worried about, her dad wouldn't have to invest everything in her anymore. In fact, this was the best thing that could have happened.

She flew across the room and leaped on her dad. "That is wonderful news. When's the wedding?"

"Round about Christmas time, I hope you're coming home for that?" Hank inclined his head towards Spike. "And your boyfriend's invited too."

"You try and stop us." Buffy gave her dad another hug, and then looked back at Spike, who looked as if he was starting to relax at last. Everything was going to be fine, just fine.

-----------------------------------

The wedding took place in December and was a low-key affair as far as the Summers were concerned. Buffy showed Spike all her old haunts, including her old school.

"I can't believe you did that. God, I'd loved to have seen it."

They were standing outside the railings of the grand old buildings, empty now because of the holidays.

"Did you really take them off?"

"Yep." Buffy gave him a very sexy smile. "I could show you." Her hand strayed to the top button of her blouse and Spike's hand shot out to stop her.

"Are you telling me you took your uniforms off and threw them at the nuns?"

"Sure did. Wasn't the ring leader of course, but a bunch of us got together and, well, we were leaving, and it seemed like a good idea at the time."

They strolled back to the car. "And you walked home in your underwear?" Spike was getting a very vivid word picture here.

"No, I didn't walk anywhere. Chauffeur took me home. Nearly had a heart attack when he saw me."

Spike gave her a leery grin. "How about you show me when we get back?"

"In dad's house? I couldn't. You know how I feel about that."

Spike groaned. "It's been four days. I can't stand it any longer. Where's the nearest motel?"

"You're taking me to a motel?" She leaned towards him and traced her finger down his chest. "I like it, come on."

Spike practically carried her to the car, and they spent the afternoon working off their frustration, completely forgetting the cocktail party they were supposed to be attending back at Casa Summers.

------------------------------

"New York?" Willow gave a shriek and jumped into Xander's arms. "New York for Christmas. This is so sweet of you."

Xander spun her around and set her back down. "We can fly out to California to visit your folks, then go on to New York afterwards. What do you say?"

"I'd say you were the most wonderful boyfriend in the world. Thank you, thank you."

Xander blushed at the compliment. "Knew you were missing them, thought you might like to see them, that's all."

"I love you Xander Harris, you do know that, don't you?" She looked at the tickets again to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

"I may be starting to get that impression, ow." He flinched as Willow hit him on the arm, a bit harder than she intended.

"I'm sorry." She frantically kissed it better. "You know I love you, and I do miss my folks, but I'd rather be here with you."

Xander hooked a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. "Glad to hear that Miss Rosenberg, because I am not letting you go."

---------------------

Two weeks later they were standing outside a large department store and Xander was being very unsuccessful in his attempts to get Willow to visit Santa Claus.

"Please come with me, it'll be fun."

Willow pulled a face. "I couldn't. There was this Santa when I was a kid. Well, they had to arrest him..."

"But Will, this will be different, promise." Xander hooked his arm in hers and dragged her into the building, full of the sights and smells of Christmas, and steered her to the top floor that housed 'The Christmas Wonderland Experience.'

Willow practically closed her eyes as they bought tickets and queued with a gaggle of excited children. "I feel silly Xander." She caught the grin on his face. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Xander assumed a casual air. "You'll like it, honest. Look there's Rudolph."

They shuffled through the displays of animated animals and elves, and Xander was mighty relieved to see Willow relaxing at last. He had the mother of all surprises planned for her, and for a moment he thought he wasn't going to be able to get her in the store, let alone into Santa's Grotto. Two families to go and then it was his big moment. Probably the most important thing he'd ever done in his life. He hugged Willow to him and kissed her on the top of her head. "Is this too awful for you?"

"No. It's turning out to be fun." Willow reached up and kissed his cheek. "On my god, there's Santa. She made to shrink behind Xander, but he took her hand and led her to where Santa was sitting. Santa gave him a knowing nod and then Xander went down on one knee. "Willow Rosengberg, I want to ask you something."

Willow looked around for a second as if she was wondering where Xander went, then she looked down. "What are you doing down there?"

Xander cleared his throat and started again. "Will you marry me Will?"

Willow's eyes grew as big as the proverbial saucers. "Are you asking me to..."

"Marry me. I can't live without you. Will you?"

Xander's heart was in his throat as Willow seemed totally lost for words for a moment. She just stared down at him as if he'd grown two heads. Then she sprung into action and pulled him up for a series of kisses which made him want to drag her straight back to their hotel room. In between kisses she just repeated the word yes, yes, yes, over and over again. Santa coughed and handed Xander a small box. "Gonna need this son," he said with a grin.

Xander slipped the ring on Willow's finger as the rest of the queue burst into a round of applause. Then she did the kiss thing again and he grabbed her hand and rushed her back to the hotel as fast as he could. They giggled like schoolchildren in the back of the taxi, stopped for kisses as they climbed the hotel steps and were just making their way to the lift when the woman at the reception desk called them over.

"Mr Harris?"

Xander stopped. "That's me, and I'd like to order the largest bottle of champagne you have in the hotel."

"Thought I recognised you from earlier." She handed him a slip. "There's a message for you sir, it's marked urgent."

"Thanks." Xander took the slip of paper and read it absently as Willow nibbled on his ear.

"Who's it from?"

"It's from dad. Asking me to phone home." A small stab of fear clutched at his heart. "Why would dad want me to phone?"

They rode the lift in silence, the mood dampened by the prospect of whatever Xander's dad had to say. Something that was so urgent he was interrupting their holiday with it.

Xander dialled the number, Willow leaning on his arm, his finger trembling slightly as he punched them in. It had to be grandma. He felt guilty as he wished it. Please let it be grandma. She'd been ill for some time and they were all expecting bad news. If it wasn't grandma that only left his mum and Dru.

It wasn't grandma, or his mum. He put the receiver down and turned to Willow, groping for her and burying his face into her shoulder. "It's Dru. She OD'd this morning." He sniffed back the tears and raised his distraught face to her. "It's bad, Will.. We've got to get hold of Spike."

Chapter 24


I can do this.

Spike stood in front of the hospital's main entrance and watched the sliding doors moving back and forth as people entered and exited. He hadn't been near a hospital since that day his mum had died, and Buffy had wanted to go with him, but he knew she'd understood when he'd told her it was something he needed to do alone.

He was closing two chapters in his life. Coming to terms with his mum's death meant finally realising that she hadn't abandoned him. Then perhaps he could start to forgive his dad for the way he'd been after she'd died. And he wanted that, it was about time the rift was healed. Maybe he was just getting philosophical with age but suddenly things like that were starting to seem important.

And of course, Dru. His first real love, and he had loved her, he realised. And even though he knew now that she may not have loved him back with the same passion that he'd felt, she would always be a part of his life. He owed her this last visit, and they both needed the closure.

She'd been asking for him, in the times when she'd been conscious and he'd meant it when he'd told Xander that he wouldn't abandon her.

So what are you waiting for, get in there man. Do this, then you've got your whole life ahead of you. You've got a beautiful woman who loves you, and life looks good.

And heck, he was going to start crying.

He hastily wiped his eyes with his sleeve, looking around to see if anyone had seen, but nobody was taking any notice of him. Not for the crying anyway. If they noticed him, it was because of the leather coat and the bleached hair that he'd forgotten to gel this morning so that it was curling wildly instead of slicked back as he liked it to be. Maybe it was time to change the image, grow up a bit. Everything we do, everyone we meet, they all help us on our way, they change us, even if we don't want them to, he thought as he watched the doors slide one last time. Dru had, and so would Buffy.

I can do this

He took a deep breath and walked in through the doors.

----------------------------

Buffy hadn't bitten her nails since she was thirteen. She remembered the foul tasting stuff she used to paint on them to stop her doing it, and she hadn't done it since. Until now.

She'd watched Spike walking resolutely across the car park and she'd really wanted to be with him, but she knew that right now he didn't need her. This was something that only he could do, it was a part of his life and the only support she could offer him was to let him go do it.

Now wasn't the time to get possessive or territorial, and she felt that more and more these days. It was almost as if they had something so good that it couldn't last, and she had to be on her guard every moment in case something stole it away. It didn't help that he was one hot guy, of course, and that everywhere they went she had to fend off Spike's fan club. Still, she could think of worse things to complain about. My boyfriend's so hot that every woman wants him, but he's mine. Yeah, that gave her a good feeling.

She stopped with the nails and picked up a magazine, but all she saw on the pages were pictures of Spike and images of the last few months they'd spent together. The first time he'd kissed her, and how guilty they'd both felt about it. How she'd cried when they'd made love and it had scared him half to death. And how he'd looked when she'd said she was leaving him.

She didn't ever want to leave him again. Wasn't sure exactly how he felt about it but she couldn't see a future without him now. She hadn't told him that she'd put the house up for sale, it was far too big for her anyway. If she was going to stay in England, and the prof had already told her he'd be more than happy to have her finish her degree at the university, then she was going to need a place that she could really call her own.

And it needed to be a place for the Buffy that she was now, not for the Buffy who'd come here with all that baggage, both literal and emotional, last September. She was a different woman now, perhaps still not the woman she would eventually become, but for the first time in her life she felt that she was really on her way to getting there.

------------------------------------

"Dru." Spike tried not to let the shock of her appearance show on his face, but it was hard. The doctors and nurses bustling about, the monitors and tubes, they were scary enough, without seeing someome you cared about in the midst of it all.

"Spike?" She turned her head, a hint of a smile forming. "I didn't think you'd come."

He took her hand in both of his, heck he was finding this a lot harder than he thought he would. He'd been angry when she'd overdosed. A strange reaction, but it had felt to him at the time almost like she'd done it on purpose to spoil the happiness he'd found with Buffy. As if Dru was always going to be a shadow over everything they did. But now, as he looked at her he felt ashamed of how selfish his reaction had been.

"Course I came, you daft thing. What have you been doing to yourself?"

"Bad things Spike." She managed a little squeeze of his hand, then looked away. "I've been really stupid."

"No you..."

"I have. I let you go, and I nearly killed myself. Stupid doesn't even begin to cover it."

"I'm sorry for how it happened." He didn't know what else to say, and he couldn't feel any more guilty about it if he tried. He knew he didn't have a lot to feel guilty about, but he felt it anyway.

She looked back at him, smiling again. Making an effort for him, he realised. "I'm going to try really hard this time. You know, to make a life for myself. You go do the same Spike."

"Thanks Dru, I needed to hear you say that."

"I know, that's why I said it."

She winked at him, a small flash of the Dru he'd loved returning for a moment, and that's when he realised that she was going to be okay. The fighting spirit was still there.

"I know what it means, you coming here after what happened to your mum. Thank you Spike."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, his eyes blurry with tears. "See you at Xan's wedding?"

"Yeah, gotta see you in a tux. Going to be a good laugh."

"It will that, bye love."

"Bye Spike."

--------------------------------

"How was she?"

Spike threw down his cigarette, taking a moment to look at it before he stubbed it out. Okay, that was the last one. No more.

"She looked really rough."

"But she's going to pull through?" Buffy turned the key in the ignition and started the car.

"Yeah, going into rehab. I felt so sorry for her."

Buffy pulled into the stream of traffic, and turned the car for Spike's flat. "She was a big part of your life, bound to affect you."

"Yeah," Spike rubbed his eyes. "I didn't realise just how much it would though, and all those memories of mum..."

She squeezed his arm. "You don't have to say anything, you did it, and that's good. Are you gonna see your dad?"

"Next time he's home, yeah. You coming?"

"Try and stop me. Saw him on the news couple of nights ago, he's really hot!"

Spike managed a smile for the first time that day. "Don't you go fancying my dad. Only bloke I want you fancying is me."

"Oh, I do Spike, don't worry about that. What d'you say to me putting that leather top on when we get back?"

"And me taking it off you?"

"Yeah, that's the general idea."

They both lapsed into silence, the air growing thick with anticipation as Buffy manouevred the car into a parking space outside Spike's flat. She didn't get the chance to put the top on because the minute they'd got inside Spike was kissing her passionately and nothing mattered but what they were doing to each other right then.

And as they made love all she could think about was how she only had to look at him and she wanted him. She wanted him so much, that sometime she couldn't think of anything else. He only had to look at her and her legs turned to jelly. She was never letting him go. He was hers, now and forever.

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He couldn't get close enough. She was his angel, his sex goddess and his anchor. And he was hers till the end of time. He came with her name on his lips as he always did, and afterwards he held her so tightly that she wriggled out of his embrace and looked at him long and hard.

"Will we live happily ever after, Spike?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"What do you mean, you think so?"

"Okay, I know so."

"That's better."

She settled back into his waiting arms as they both drifted into sleep.

"Goodnight Spike."

Goodnight Buffy."

"Goodnight Johnboy."

"Who?"

------------------------------------
A. N. Johnboy was in the Waltons, remember them?
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Epilogue.

End of the year.

"Oh Willow, I can't believe it. Two weeks time and you'll be Mrs Harris." Buffy grabbed her friend and engulfed her in a gigantic hug. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Me too Buffy. It's been kinda fun, hasn't it?"

"Kinda fun?" Xander slipped his arm around her. "Only kinda fun?"

"Okay." Willow snuggled up to him. "It's been the best, most romantic, sexiest time of my life."

Spike whistled. "Too much information. There's your call, get going before you miss the plane."

"And before I start crying again." Buffy grabbed Willow one more time as the loudspeaker announced the flight for New York. "Call me the minute you get home, I want to know all the details about the dress and everything."

"I will, Buffy, and we'll see you both next week, maid of honor."

"And best man." Xander gave Spike a manly hug, and chuckled. "I'm still laughing at the thought of you in a tux."

"He's gonna look great, aren't you Spike?" Buffy linked arms with him as Willow and Xander picked up their carry on luggage.

Spike mumbled something incomprehensible. "You look after our overseas branch, Mr. Harris, this could be a really big break for us."

"Talk about responsibility." Xander stared impassively at him for a moment, then broke into a huge grin. "Piece of cake, man. I'm a genius and there's no way this isn't going to be a success."

"Okay, now I'm worried." Spike slapped him on the back. "Go do it man, millionaires before thirty, remember what we said."

"No sweat."

Spike and Buffy watched the lovebirds disappear through passport control, and then they made their way back to the car park.

"Did you see the real estate agent?"

"We call them estate agents here, gotta get with the lingo if you're gonna live here."

"Shows how much I love you, doesn't it?"

"What does?"

"I'm willing to put up with English weather for you."

Spike slipped his arm around Buffy's shoulders. "Yeah, but look what you're getting in return. It looked like a nice house, on the papers, anyway."

"Did it? I can't wait until we get a place of our own." Buffy looked up at him. "I mean really of our own. Not one my dad chose for me, or one you shared with Dru. Somewhere that's really ours."

"Know what you mean love. Just wish we could pay for it ourselves."

Buffy pulled a face. "Don't start that up again. I have changed a lot this year, but dad said I could keep the money I got from the sale of the other house, and I don't see why we can't buy a new one with it."

"You're still a spoilt rich kid at heart, aren't you?" He said it with affection, giving her shoulders a squeeze as he did so.

"Yep, and what Buffy wants, Buffy gets."

"And what does Buffy want?"

She went up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear.

"Right," Spike gave her his patented smirk. "In the car, eh? I think we can arrange that."

"Race you..."

"You're on."

The End
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