Buffy Summers was a 24 year old bookstore clerk at a little shop in Sunnydale, California, her place of residence since freshman year of college. She had several close friends but wasn’t social, spending most nights at home reading or watching TV. Nothing new ever happened to her, and she had been single for years.

That is, until a good-looking platinum blonde man entered the store one night before closing time.

She was perched behind the cash register, flipping through the most recent Cosmo, when he walked in, dressed all in black. She studied him for a moment before looking down at the magazine again.

‘I hate when people come in here so late,’ she thought. ‘I always feel bad asking them to leave.’

When she looked at the clock moments later, it was officially time to close at ten o’clock. She stood up and walked through the shelves, trying to locate him. When she saw him paging through a poetry book, she raised an eyebrow, almost not wanting to interrupt him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m about to close the store,” she said, getting him to look up from the book and directly at her. “If you’d like to purchase that, I can go ring it up for you.”

“No thank you,” he replied, closing the book and putting it back on the shelf it came from.

‘He’s British?’ she thought to herself. ‘I’m such a sucker for accents from the UK.’

“I just had a part of a poem in my head all day and couldn’t remember how it exactly went. I figured I’d come in and check,” he continued to explain.

“Which poem?” she asked curiously, studying him.

“Resurrection by Emily Dickinson,” he answered, noticing how her eyes lit up.

“Really?” she asked. “That’s one of my favorite poems.”

“Yeah?” he asked, surprised. “It’s one of my favorites, too.”

“’T was a long parting, but the time for interview had come,” she began to recite. “Before the judgment-seat of God, the last and second time.”

“These fleshless lovers met, a heaven in a gaze, a heaven of heavens, the privilege of one another’s eyes,” he continued, moving slowly towards her, their eyes locked.

“No lifetime set on them, appareled as the new,” she said quietly, moving closer to him. “Unborn, except they had beheld, born everlasting now.”

“Was bridal e’er like this?” he replied, stopping inches away from her. “A paradise, the host, and cherubim and seraphim the most familiar guest.” She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as he lowered his face to hers, gently pressing a kiss to her lips. She looked up at him with wide eyes, shocked. “I’m William, but everyone calls me Spike.”

“Buffy,” she replied, shaking his hand, even though it seemed awkward.

‘We kiss and then we introduce ourselves?’ she thought. ‘That’s backwards.’

“It’s nice to meet you, Buffy,” he said, smiling. “Would you maybe like to go out for coffee? I think Starbucks is open for another hour.”

“Um, sure,” she replied. “Let me just lock up everything.” He nodded and watched her walk away, noticing the blush that covered her cheeks for a moment.

‘I can’t believe I’m going out for coffee with a complete stranger,’ she thought. ‘He seems like an okay guy. He knows Dickinson, so that adds plus points in his column.’ She paused. ‘Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?’ She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Summers.’

* * * * *

“So, Spike, you seem to have quite a knack for poetry,” Buffy said, sipping from her cappuccino minutes later, not worried about the caffeine keeping her awake later on that night.

“I used to write it,” he admitted sheepishly, stirring sugar into his coffee. “It was a hobby of mine in high school and college.”

“Were you an English major in college?” she asked, and he nodded. “I was, too.”

“It seemed like the natural thing for me to major in,” he said, smiling. “I wanted to be an English professor.” He sighed. “But money became tight, so I had to drop out in my junior year. I wanted to go back for a while, but now I don’t see it happening.”

“What do you do instead?” she asked. “As a job?” He paused for a moment, looking into his coffee.

“I’m a firefighter,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you seem so down about that?” she asked. “Firefighters save people daily- you’re like a hero, Spike.” He looked at her, smirking.

“You don’t know me,” he replied, and she nodded.

“True, but you seem like a good guy,” she said. “As far as I can tell, at least.”

“I try to be a good man, yes,” he replied, drinking some of his coffee. “And you work at the bookstore full-time?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “My dad bought it a couple of years ago and pretty much left it in my care when he moved to Los Angeles to run another bookstore.”

“That’s a great deal for a woman in her twenties,” he said, and she nodded. “You’re very lucky, luv.”

“Yes, I am,” she agreed, sighing. He smiled and put his hand on hers, both feeling a spark run through them. She looked at his hand and smiled softly.

“Would you maybe be interested in going out tomorrow night for dinner?” he asked, and she looked at him, hesitating for a moment before smirking.

“I’d love to.”

Three months later, they were still together, but when a secret about Spike was brought to Buffy’s attention, their relationship suddenly found itself to be in turmoil.

He definitely wasn’t the man she thought he was.

---

A/N: This is dedicated to Katie, my best friend in the world, who inspired me to write this fic, along with giving me tons of ideas for it. She’s the reason I started watching the show in the first place, so I can’t thank her enough for that. Also, her unfailing support for my writing has encouraged me to keep on going, even at times when I felt like an inadequate author. Thank you so much, my super-girl!

“Anya, I can’t believe you hired a stripper,” Buffy said, following her friend into the kitchen of Anya’s house. “Especially a male stripper. They’re usually so sleazy and icky, and who really wants a slimy guy rubbing himself all over them? I know Willow and Tara wouldn’t have minded a female stripper, even.”

“Cordelia said this guy is one of the best she employs,” Anya said, stopping to stand beside her fiancé Andrew.

“And you’re okay with this, Andy?” Buffy asked, looking at him. “That your fiancé is going to have some muscular stud doing some pretty tasteless stuff to her?”

“Once Anya has an idea, there’s no stopping her,” he said, looking at the onion he was cutting up. “She’s been gung-ho for a stripper since we got engaged.”

“Long before then, actually,” Anya replied, smiling at him. “Besides, Andrew will be here throughout it.”

“Why?” Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I have about five blooming onions to make for the bachelor party tomorrow night,” Andrew answered. Buffy made a face before walking out of the kitchen, Anya behind her.

“I just think it’s wrong to have some guy waltz in here, gyrating around in nothing but a g-string,” Buffy said.

“You won’t be saying that when you get your hands on him,” Anya replied, grinning. “I bet he’ll be gorgeous. Cordy said he was incredibly hot. Plus, he’s got an accent.” Buffy looked at her, tilting her head. “All of Cordy’s guys have accents- it’s what the company is famous for.”

“And what company is this again?” Buffy asked, crossing her arms.

“It’s called Not All Old Hat,” Anya answered, shrugging. “Cordelia tried to explain it once to me, but I lost her when she started talking about guys wearing uniforms.” Buffy giggled a little before catching herself and trying to put up her serious façade again.

“I just think it’s wrong, is all,” Buffy said.

“Yet again, I think you’ll change your tune when you see him do his thing,” Anya replied, going to the door when the doorbell rang.

“I have Spike- I don’t need to enjoy a stripper,” Buffy said, frowning.

“Are you ever going to let me meet him?” Anya asked. “It’s been three months- I should have met him already.”

“You’ll meet him at the wedding,” Buffy replied, and Anya sighed.

“Anyways, everyone needs to let loose once in a while- you’re no different,” Anya said, letting their friends Willow and Tara come inside. “Buffy and I are just discussing the logistics of me having a male stripper here tonight.”

“They’re usually so gross,” Willow said, making a face. Buffy smiled.

“That’s exactly what I said,” she agreed before looking at Anya. “See?”

“Let’s just see what happens, okay?” Anya replied, sighing. “He could be the man of your dreams.”

* * * * *

Cordelia showed up about twenty minutes later, making sure everything was set up for the stripper. Buffy shook her head as Anya and Cordy figured out the payment plan.

“If you don’t want to watch him, Buffy, you don’t have to,” Anya replied. “I’m not going to force you.”

“Maybe I’ll help Andrew with his onions,” Buffy said before frowning. “Or I’ll just sit outside instead.”

“Right there with you,” Willow said quietly, looking at her friend. Tara nodded in agreement.

“Come on- you all need to loosen up,” Cordelia said, looking at the three women. “He’s such a good performer.”

“I’m sure he is,” Buffy said, shrugging. “But I don’t need to see him, thanks.” When the doorbell rang again, Anya shrieked excitedly and went to go open the door. Buffy quickly made her way through the house and sat out on the back porch.

She heard loud music begin to play minutes later, followed by the sound of someone coming outside. Buffy turned to see her friend Willow, instantly noticing the look of shock on her face.

“What is it?” Buffy asked. “Did he give you a lap dance? Did you suddenly go back to being straight?”

“Buffy, this is serious,” Willow said in a quiet voice. “You really need to come inside.”

“Why?” Buffy asked, confused.

“Just come inside,” Willow said, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside, into the living room. What Buffy saw made her instantly feel sick.

A man wearing only a fireman’s helmet and a black g-string with flames on it was grinding against Anya to the sultry beat of a song playing on a nearby CD player. But it wasn’t just any man.

It was Spike.

* * * * *

When Spike saw a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, he turned around and was looking directly at his girlfriend, seeing the mass of conflicting emotions running over her face. He quickly went to stop the music and took off his hat, grabbing his pants and pulling them on.

“Buffy-” he said, watching as tears began to form in her eyes.

“Why did you stop?” Anya whined, wrapping her arms around his waist. “And how do you know her?” He broke away from Anya and moved closer to Buffy, who quickly stepped back.

“Anya, meet Spike, my boyfriend,” Buffy managed to get out before running out of the house, to her car.

“You’re the infamous Spike?” Anya asked, staring at him. “Damn, she’s a lucky girl.”

“Excuse me,” Spike said, quickly making his way out of the house, only to sprint after his girlfriend. He caught up to her before she could open her car door, turning her around and seeing tears pouring down her cheeks. He went to try to wipe them away, but she moved away from him. “Buffy, let me explain.”

“What’s there to explain?” she asked, wiping away her tears as best she could. “You lied to me, Spike! You told me you were a fireman, but instead, you’re a… a… male stripper!” She began crying again, practically sobbing. “How could you do this? Why would you lie to me?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t want me if I was a stripper,” he tried to explain calmly. “You deserve someone better, someone who’s a valid member of society.”

“So you lied to me?” she yelled, shoving him back. “How long did you plan on keeping this up? When were you going to tell me?”

“When I knew you loved me and would continue to love me no matter what my profession is,” he said quietly. She shook her head and looked away.

“I can’t believe you, Spike,” she said, scoffing. “I never thought you’d hurt me. Not like this.”

“Buffy, baby-” he said, but she pushed him back again.

“Don’t,” she said in a low tone. “Just don’t.” She let herself into her car and sped off, leaving him standing in the street, watching her depart until her taillights were no longer visible.

Spike walked back inside the house and began to get dressed again, not wanting to talk to any of the women looking at him.

“I had no idea you even had a girlfriend,” Cordelia said suddenly. “I knew Anya was friends with a girl named Buffy- I would’ve been able to put two-and-two together.”

“I never wanted her to find out like this,” he said sadly, grabbing all of his stuff. “And since when are you here, Red?” Willow frowned and sighed.

“I was in the kitchen with Andrew,” she said. “Heard your voice and knew. I had to get Buffy- I’m sorry.” He nodded and looked down. “Do you want a cup of coffee or something? And maybe to talk about some things?”

“I should probably head over to her apartment and try to settle things,” he said, but all of the girls shook their heads. “No?”

“I’d let her cool down,” Anya replied. “Buffy’s obviously very worked up and might get a little hostile if you go over there tonight.”

“I’m screwed either way,” he said. “I lied to her.”

“Anyone up for sharing a blooming onion with me?” Andrew said, walking into the room. He looked at Spike and subtly appraised him with his eyes.

“Why don’t we hit a club or something?” Anya asked. “The night is still young.”

“Yeah, might as well,” Cordelia said. “Want to, Spike?”

“No thanks,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind splitting the onion thing, though.” Andrew smiled widely at him. “That okay?”

“Of course,” he answered. “You girls go off and have a good time. We’ll kick back and have some male-bonding time.”

“Alright,” Anya said. “Good night, sweetie.” She looked at Spike. “And Cordy was right- you’re worth the money.” Spike frowned as he watched the four girls leave the house.

“So, want some beer?” Andrew asked, and Spike looked at him graciously.

“God yes.”

* * * * *

The two men sat at the island in the kitchen, talking about things while devouring the onion blossom.

“So, you never even hinted that you weren’t really a fireman to her?” Andrew asked curiously, finishing his beer.

“Didn’t know how to,” Spike mumbled, looking into his beer bottle.

“How did you play it off so well, though?” Andrew asked. “I mean, firemen work odd hours usually.”

“I always work at night for my stripping gigs, so I guess it just made sense to her that I work third-shift,” Spike said. “I have no idea what she thought, but she must’ve believed me.”

“She trusted you,” Andrew said, and Spike looked down, nodding. “You really should talk to her about it.”

“And say what?” Spike asked. “I strip for a living- I’m not exactly seen as the best man in the world.”

“Who cares if you’re not the best man in the world?” Andrew asked. “Buffy really cares about you- I don’t think she would’ve shunned you from day one had she known you’re a stripper.”

“She’s too good for me,” Spike said, looking at the man sitting across from him. “I don’t deserve a girl like her.”

“Sure you do,” Andrew said. “You’re a good man, too, Spike. Don’t demote yourself based on your chosen career.” He sighed. “If you really care about her, too, you’ll go over there and convince her that you deserve another chance and that you’re really the man she fell for in the first place.”

“But her friends all said to let her be on her own tonight,” Spike said, and Andrew shrugged.

“I know Buffy, too, and I think that she might like to get things squared away tonight while everything is still fresh in her mind,” he said. “But maybe that’s just me.” Spike stood up and nodded.

“Thanks for the beer and onion petals,” he said. “And for talking this out with me.”

“You’re welcome,” Andrew said. “And no matter what happens with Buffy, you’re more than welcome to come to the wedding.” Spike raised an eyebrow. “We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Spike managed a small smile.

“Sure,” he said, patting Andrew on the back before walking out. Andrew grinned and cleaned up the kitchen, whistling the song that Spike had been stripping to.

* * * * *

Spike drove to Buffy’s apartment and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he knocked again, but to no avail. He grabbed his keys and located the one she had given him weeks ago, putting it in the lock and opening the door. He quietly let himself in and shut the door behind him. He walked towards her bedroom and saw her lying on her bed, under the covers, fast asleep. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her for a moment, noticing that the tear tracks on her cheeks were still fresh.

‘She must have dozed off only minutes ago,’ he thought.

“I know you’re standing there,” she said sharply.

‘Or maybe she was just faking,’ he thought, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Why are you here?” she asked, her eyes slowly opening to focus on his as she sat up, never breaking eye contact with him.

“Wanted to talk to you,” he said quietly. “But if you want to sleep, that’s fine. I can come back tomorrow.”

“Don’t,” she said, and he raised an eyebrow, confused. “Don’t come back tomorrow.” He inwardly felt crushed, knowing what she was going to say next. “It’s over, Spike.”

“Baby, let’s talk about this,” he said, but she shook her head, looking down.

“I can’t be with you,” she said. “You lied to me, and I can’t be with someone who isn’t honest with me. Relationships are built on trust, and I no longer trust you.” He looked down, clenching his jaw. “Things were so good between us, Spike, but you screwed them up completely.”

“Things can still be good for us,” he said, looking at her. “This is just a rough patch that we can work through.”

“It doesn’t change the fact you lied to me,” she shot back. “What else have you lied to me about? Are you not really British? Did you even go to college at all?”

“Yes, I’m British, and yes, I went to college,” he replied. “But I ran out of money, like I told you, and turned to stripping because it would pay the bills.”

“You should’ve told me,” she said. “How stuck-up do you think I am that I wouldn’t have tried being with you just because you’re a stripper?”

“You have always said that you find stripping distasteful and demeaning,” he replied. “Especially male strippers because they’re so sleazy, right?” She looked away. “What was I supposed to say, Buffy?”

“You could’ve told me the truth,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks again. “I can’t do this, Spike. Please leave.”

“I can’t just let this end,” he said, and she looked at him.

“It ended when I found out you lied to me,” she replied. “There’s nothing you can do to fix this. It’s done, Spike.” She wiped off her cheeks and shook her head. “I’m sorry, William.” He clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” he said. “I need you to believe that.”

“I know you’re sorry,” she said. “You’re sorry because you screwed up and got caught.” She laid down again, shutting her eyes. “Goodbye.” He sighed and turned on his heel, leaving the apartment.

‘I screwed up royally,’ he thought. ‘There’s no way she’ll take me back now.’

---

A/N I’ve decided that I’m going to post the next chapter tomorrow (Saturday), but I probably won’t post chapter 4 until Monday. I’m really fond of the next chapter, playfully entitled “Who’s Got the Magic Stick?”, because I think it adds some humor and sweetness to an otherwise angst-ridden tale (up to this point, at least). If I get a lot of responses from chapter 3, then I’ll post chapter 4 on Sunday as a treat. I hope you liked this update, and be prepared for some odd humor between Spike and Angel tomorrow!:)

Spike went to work the next morning, giving a slight wave to Charles Gunn, the doorman and bodyguard at Not All Old Hat.

“Cordy told me you and your girl had a fight last night,” Gunn said.

“Yeah,” Spike mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Her and I aren’t together anymore.” Gunn frowned.

“Sorry to hear that, man,” he replied. “I know you really liked her.” Spike nodded and walked inside, seeing his British friend Wesley walking around. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Wesley said, studying his friend. “You alright?”

“Buffy and I broke up last night,” Spike answered, sitting down on a chair. “She found out about the job.”

“And that you lied to her?” Wesley asked, and Spike nodded. “You knew she’d have to find out someday, Spike, and you knew her reaction wouldn’t be good the longer you kept lying to her.” He paused. “Why did you even bother lying to her in the first place?”

“I’ve already been over this with you,” Spike said, looking away. “She’s too good for me.”

“Fred’s too good for me, too, but we’re happily married,” Wesley said, crossing his arms. “We had a lot to work through because of this job, but if you really care about someone, you’ll make the effort to be sure everything turns out alright.” Wesley sat next to Spike. “If you love her, which I truly believe you do, you’ll go to her and do your best to get her back.”

“She doesn’t trust me, Wes,” Spike replied. “And I don’t blame her.”

“Then work your ass off to rebuild that level of trust,” his friend suggested. “She’s worth it to you, yes?” Spike nodded instantly. “Then you won’t give up just because you hit a snag in your relationship.”

“I know,” Spike said, standing up. “Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”

“That’d be a cool costume- a coach,” Wesley replied, standing up. “I could get a whistle and command women to do my bidding.” He paused and grinned. “I love it.” Spike chuckled as Wesley walked away, going towards a rack of costumes.

“So, broke up with Betty, eh?” Angel O’Toole asked, suddenly standing next to Spike, who faced the Irish man with an angry expression on his face.

“Her name’s Buffy, you wanker,” Spike said, crossing his arms. “And what’s it to you?”

“Cordy said she’s hot, so I thought maybe I’d call her up and give her a go,” Angel said, smirking when Spike growled.

“Don’t you go near her,” Spike said, taking a step closer to Angel. “Or you won’t have anything to rub against the women you dance for anymore.”

“That a threat, Willy?” Angel asked, tilting his head.

“What do you think?” Spike asked in a low tone. “I’ll cut off your precious shillelagh stick and shove it up your ass, you pillock.”

“Oh, you’re just jealous I stole your Union Jack g-string and hid it,” Angel replied, laughing.

“I want that back, by the way,” Spike said sharply. “It’s my lucky g-string.”

“Irishmen have luck, not Brits,” Angel said, walking away.

“Luck of the Irish, my ass,” Spike shot back, not caring if Angel heard him or not. “You poncy leprechaun.”

“Be careful what you say about the Irish,” a stripper named Doyle said as he walked past Spike. “Especially leprechauns. Every man wants a pot of gold.” Spike raised an eyebrow and watched him head into one of the dressing rooms.

‘What the hell does that mean?’ Spike thought, sighing. ‘I need to get out of this business.’ He turned and began walking towards Cordelia’s office.

* * * * *

“Spike, you’re one of the originals under my management,” Cordy said, looking at him as he sat across from her while she sat at her desk. “The only guy who has seniority over you is Rupert Giles.”

“And Ripper’s much more talented than I am,” Spike replied, noticing her shrug. “No?”

“You’re the best stripper I’ve got,” she said. “Angel’s your only competition, and he lacks quite a bit compared to you. Having you leave here would be devastating not only to the business, but to everyone around here. I don’t want to say you’re inspirational because that sounds weird, but the other guys here strive to be like you.”

“Because they want more money and stripping jobs,” he said, smirking. “I just don’t know if this is something I can continue to do. If I can’t live with it, how can I expect Buffy to?”

“You’d really give up this job for her?” she asked, and he nodded. “You’re a lot more whipped than I thought.”

“Not whipped- just in love,” he corrected, and she smiled.

“You’re one of the good ones, Spike,” she said. “And I guess if you really want to quit working here, I can allow it.” He grinned. “But on one condition.”

“And that is?” he asked, curious.

“You stay on until you get married to her,” Cordelia said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“That might not ever happen,” he replied. “And if I want to make things right again, I can’t keep this job.”

“If she loves you, the job won’t matter,” Cordy said. “The only things that will matter are if you love her, too, and if you’re honest with her.”

“I don’t know if I can agree to this, then,” he said, frowning.

“Wouldn’t you rather know she loves you for who you are than what you’re doing instead to appease her?” Cordelia asked. “It’s a sweet gesture, Spike, but she has to learn to accept things. You can’t change your whole life for a person, you know?”

“You can if you love them enough and it’s worth it,” he said. She sighed and nodded.

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she said. “But I really want you to think about this before you just tell me you’re quitting. If she can accept your job, then everything else will fall into place.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said, standing up.

“I’m always right,” she replied, grinning. “Now go be Prince Charming.” He nodded and left, going out to his car, while Cordelia stood up from her desk and watched him through the window. “I just wish I had a guy like that, too.”

Spike pulled up in front of the bookstore in town and walked in, seeing Buffy behind the counter, reading.

‘Just like when I first saw her,’ he thought, studying the pensive look on her face.

She looked up when she heard the door open and raised an eyebrow as he walked over to her, standing across from her on the other side of the counter.

“Hi,” she said quietly, folding the edge of the page she was reading before shutting the book. “How can I help you?” He cringed slightly at the formality of her tone before taking a deep breath.

“We need to talk, Buffy,” he said, putting one of his hands on hers. She pulled her hand away instantly and saw the hurt look on his face.

“Not here,” she replied. “I don’t want the public to know all of the details of our relationship’s demise.”

“It doesn’t have to be over, luv,” he said, and she shook her head, looking away. “Listen to me for a moment, pet, before you completely disregard me.” She looked at him, tilting her head. “My friend Wesley-”

“A fellow stripper?” she asked, cutting in, and he nodded. “Continue.”

“He got married last fall to a great woman named Winifred, better known as Fred,” Spike said, leaning on the counter. “She’s a kindergarten teacher at the local school who was completely against the idea of being with him because of his job.”

“Rightfully so,” Buffy said. “I’m sure people in town wouldn’t want their kids being taught by a woman dating a stripper.”

“Why?” Spike asked, frowning. “She’s not the one stripping, and if you knew her, you’d know she’s one of the sweetest and kindest women in the world, not the type of person you’d think was dating someone like me.” He paused. “She’s a lot like you, Buffy, so bear with me while I continue talking about this because it has a point.” She smiled slightly for a moment. “Wesley was afraid to tell her about his job because he thought she’d leave him, and I’ll admit, they had lots of arguments and disagreements about it, but they worked things out because they’re in love and wanted to be together.” She looked down. “I know I lied to you, Buffy, and I can never apologize enough for that, but I thought you’d leave me if I told you the truth, and I couldn’t handle that.”

“So you risked losing me nonetheless by lying to me?” she asked, and he clenched his jaw, looking away.

“I didn’t know what to do, alright?” he said. “I’ll admit I fucked up.” Her eyes widened as she quickly looked around the store, making sure there weren’t any little kids around.

“Don’t swear in here,” she hissed, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Sorry,” he replied. “My point is that I’m sorry I lied to you, but I need you, Buffy, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you how worthy of a man I am and how much I love you.” Her expression softened slightly.

“I know you’re worthy of loving,” she said quietly. “But you have to understand that loving a person who lied to you isn’t as easy as it sounds. It takes a lot to rebuild that trust, you know.” He nodded, understanding. “I want to work things out- I really do- but I need to be absolutely sure that you won’t lie to me again about something so important.” She paused. “And that you trust me enough to tell me something like this.” He looked at her. “I wouldn’t have walked away from you because of your job, Spike. You really thought I wouldn’t even give you a chance if I knew you were a stripper?” He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s not like I’ve known male strippers in the past- all of my opinions of them are based on stereotypes. I would’ve enjoyed allowing you to prove my judgments wrong.” He smiled slightly. “You did a flawless job of lying to me, William.”

“Buffy-” he said, frowning, but she raised her hand to stop him.

“I can’t just say I’ll forgive you because it hurt that you lied,” she said, looking down and taking a deep breath. “But I’ll consider giving you a second chance.” His face lit up before he leaned over the counter and wrapped his arms around her in an awkward hug, the counter pressing into his abdomen. “Now, you should probably head out before someone hears us.” He backed off and nodded, heading to the door before stopping and turning around to face her.

“Would you like to accompany me to Anya and Andrew’s wedding?” he asked, and she raised an eyebrow. “He invited me the other night after the bachelorette party. He said we’re friends.”

“You’re friends with Andrew?” she asked, smirking. “You’ll have to tell me what happened sometime.” She giggled. “Did you dance for him, too?” He frowned and shot her a look. “Only kidding, I swear.”

“So, do you want to go with me?” he asked, sounding a little insecure.

“Sure, that sounds like fun,” she answered, and he grinned. “Are you going to his bachelor party tonight?”

“He mentioned it while we shared one of those onion things,” Spike said, and Buffy laughed. “What’s so funny?”

“He really must like you if he split one with you,” she said. “He doesn’t do that for just anyone.”

“Then why did he make a bunch for tonight?” he asked, and she shrugged, smiling.

“You really must be a friend, then,” she said, and he nodded, smirking. “Have fun, then.” He opened the door. “And I better not find out you were dancing for the guys.”

“Very funny, luv,” he said as he walked out the door. She smiled and opened her book up again.

‘He deserves another chance, doesn’t she?’ she thought, staring blankly at the page she left off on. ‘I care about him, need him, and I… I love him.’ She smiled and continued reading.

One Month Later



Buffy pulled on her hunter-green silk bridesmaid’s dress before sliding on matching heels and taking one last look in the mirror. Spike let himself into her apartment, going to her room and watching her fluff up her hair a bit with her fingers.

“You look beautiful,” he said, and she turned to look at him, her mouth slightly opening as she looked at the tux he was wearing. “Like it?”

“I thought you were just going to get dressed up, not in a tux,” she said.

“Well, Andrew asked me to be in the wedding,” he said, shrugging. “One of his friends had to back out to go to a Star Wars convention, so I figured I’d take his place.” She giggled. “Now I get to be the one escorting you down the aisle.” She walked over to him and hugged him, smiling when he kissed the top of her head. “Ready to go?”

“I just want to bask for a minute,” she said quietly before breaking away. “Okay, let’s go.” He chuckled and took her hand in his, leading her out of the building and to his car. “So, how did that party go last night? The one you stripped at?”

“I had a bunch of forty year old women shoving singles under my g-string,” he answered, and she smiled. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been better, but it could’ve been worse.” They got into his car, and he began to drive to the church. “So, you’re beginning to accept my job?”

“It’s one of the facets of Spike,” she said, smirking at him. “And I like Spike, so therefore, I can accept his career.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek when they had to stop at a stoplight.

“Thank you, pet,” he said, and she smiled at him. “Think we’ll ever get married?” She raised an eyebrow, stunned by the question. He noticed the shock on her face and laughed. “Just a question, Goldilocks.”

“Would you w-want to g-get married?” she asked, slightly stammering, and he put his hand on hers.

“Yes, I think I would like that,” he said, and she smiled. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I think I could like that, too,” she replied, and he squeezed her hand, chuckling.

* * * * *

Buffy and Willow were sitting in one of the church’s back rooms with Anya, waiting for it to be time for the wedding to begin. Buffy watched Anya go over her vows and smiled.

“You want to get married, don’t you?” Willow asked quietly, looking at her friend.

“I do,” Buffy answered, and Willow smiled.

“I think Anya’s supposed to be the one saying that,” Willow replied, and both girls giggled, getting Anya’s attention.

“Do you think calling Andrew my ‘sex poodle’ is a little taboo to be in my vows?” she asked, and both girls stared at her. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. I’ll just have to omit that phrase.”

“Good idea,” Buffy said before looking at Willow again. “I know that I love Spike, and getting married would be nice, but we’ve only been together for four months- that’s kind of soon, don’t you think?”

“Well, long engagements are always nice,” Willow replied, shrugging. “More time to plan a wedding.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Buffy said, looking at a clock on the wall, noting that it was already twelve.

‘Shouldn’t the wedding be starting?’ she thought before she realized Willow was talking again.

“Besides, it’s not like you’re getting engaged today,” Willow said. “It’s probably good, though, to consider marriage if you love him as much as I think you do.” She sighed. “And I’d like to be in another wedding.” Buffy laughed and hugged her friend.

“Thanks, Willow,” she said. “I appreciate this little chat.” Willow nodded, smiling. Tara opened the door of the room with a worried look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Um… Andrew’s gone,” Tara said, and Buffy and Willow looked at each other as Anya dropped the note-card she was holding and charged out of the room.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Anya asked, practically yelling as she stormed down the aisle, all three girls following her. Everyone seated in the pews watched them silently. “He left?”

“He left a note,” Tara said, handing it to Anya, shaking slightly. “Jonathon and Spike found it.” Anya grabbed it and began to read it, suddenly breaking down in tears.

“How could he do this?” Anya asked. “It’s our wedding day!” She began sobbing harder and ran out of the church. Buffy saw Spike towards the front of the church and walked to him, both frowning.

“I didn’t know he’d bail,” Spike said quietly, and she hugged him. “Are you okay?”

“You’d never leave me on our wedding day, would you?” she asked, looking up at him with fear in her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I’ll never leave you, Buffy,” he said sincerely.

* * * * *

Buffy hung up her cell phone a couple of hours later after talking to Anya. Spike and Buffy went to Willow and Tara’s apartment after the wedding to talk, happy when Anya tried to contact them.

“Where is she?” Tara asked, concerned.

“Apparently, Anya ran into her photographer outside and left with him,” Buffy said, shocked. “She thought he was hot when she met him, so she figured she might as well go for him if Andrew doesn’t want her.”

“Are you kidding?” Willow asked, and Buffy shook her head. “Wow.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Buffy said, leaning into Spike’s side as they sat on the couch together. “As soon as she said, ‘Xander and I met up outside and are heading to L.A.’, I could’ve dropped the phone.”

“I wonder where Andrew went,” Spike said, and all three girls looked at him. “I mean, I know there was that convention this weekend, but you don’t think he would go there, do you?”

“Who knows what he’d do,” Buffy replied, looking down. “No one thought he’d leave Anya on their wedding day, as it is. If he wanted to run off to a Star Wars convention instead, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I feel so bad for Anya,” Willow said, and everyone nodded. “Being hurt like that must be horrible.” Buffy looked at Spike for a moment and gave him a small smile.

“But if their relationship is worth saving, they’ll work on it,” she said. “And if it’s not, they’ll move on.”

“Not everyone is as lucky as you two,” Willow said, smiling slightly, and Buffy nodded, looking at Spike.

“Yes, we’re very lucky.”

Buffy and Spike returned to her apartment later that night, still stunned by the day’s events. Buffy locked the door behind them and kicked off her shoes before pulling her hair into a ponytail. Spike watched her with a smile on his face as he took off his tux jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. She saw what he was doing and smirked.

“Spending the night tonight?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Want me to?” he asked, smiling as she walked closer to him and finished unbuttoning his shirt.

“That depends,” she replied.

“On what?” he asked, intrigued.

“On if you’ll give me my own private show,” she said, untucking his shirt from his pants. He grinned and put his hands on hers.

“I strip in front of you all the time, pet,” he said, and she shook her head.

“Not like how you strip for your clients,” she said, sitting down on a chair in her living room. He smirked and slowly approached her, stopping to stand in front of her. “And if you’re good, maybe I’ll reward you.”

“It seems too weird,” he said quietly. “I like to keep business and pleasure very separate.”

“Can’t you mix them just this once?” she asked, pouting as she batted her eyelashes at him. He chuckled.

“You’re a minx, you know that?” he asked, leaning down to kiss her. She grinned and sat back, looking at him.

“Now, dance for me, gorgeous,” she replied before jumping up and getting her purse, pulling out her wallet. She extracted several dollar bills and sat down again, fanning them out in front of her eyes for him to see.

“Oh, you’d better not hide your blushing eyes,” he said, smirking. “Or pay me.”

“I’ll just take them back from you anyway,” she said. “And why are you procrastinating?”

“Because I’m nervous,” he replied, looking down. “I don’t feel like performing.” She cupped the hard bulge in his pants, causing him to gasp, and giggled.

“I think you’re lying,” she said. “Because this proves you’re up for it, in a manner of speaking.” He shot her a playful look and slowly slid his shirt off, beginning to move his hips to the beat in his head. She smiled and relaxed, watching him as he began to retreat into his own little world, focusing more on his movements than on the way she was watching his muscles flex and ripple. He ran his hands down his chest and abs, grabbing the hem of his white wife-beater tank top and pulling it off. She studied his torso appraisingly, becoming reacquainted with it as she watched. He looked at her and smirked, noticing the fact her lips were parted as she focused on the zipper of his pants.

“Not seeing something you want, Goldilocks?” he teased, unbuttoning his pants. She motioned for him to move closer, so he did. “What’s wrong?” She slowly slid down the zipper and pushed his pants down his hips, freeing his erection from the confines of his pants. “Hey! I’m the one who’s supposed to be doing this, not you, baby.” She shrugged and pushed his pants down completely, admiring his strong legs as he stepped out of his pants and stood before her in his naked glory.

“I should’ve remembered I’d have nowhere to shove these singles,” she said, looking at the money she was holding. “Oh well.” She tossed them aside and stood up, putting her hands on his shoulders and jumping up on him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he put his hands under her thighs to hold her up. “So, want your reward now, Mr. Kensington?” He nodded vigorously and carried her into her bedroom. “Want your own show, too?”

“You bet your ass, I do,” he said, laying her down on the bed and grinning.

* * * * *

He climbed up the bed, covering her with his body, and helped her strip off her clothes, carefully removing her dress and tossing it aside gingerly so as to not ruin it. She smiled at his gentleness and finished undressing before pushing him down on the bed and getting on top of him, straddling his waist. He raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden control she wanted. “We’re going to do this my way tonight.” He grinned and relaxed, resting his hands on her hips. “Tut tut.” She grabbed his hands and stretched his arms out above his head before holding down his hands with both of hers and putting pressure on them to keep them immobile. “I told you I’m doing this my way.”

“Whatever you want, luv,” he said, shifting beneath her. She smiled before quickly scowling.

“Do I have to tie you down?” she asked, scolding him. “I’m in charge, not you.”

“I think I’ve got handcuffs in the car,” he said, winking at her. “Then you’d really be in charge.”

“I’m naked,” she said, stating the obvious. “Do you really want people to see what I have to offer?” He frowned instantly.

“No one else sees your body but me,” he said sternly. “Got me?”

“You’re forgetting who holds the power in our relationship now,” she said, smirking. “You owe me for that nicely-crafted charade you had going for three months.”

“Buffy, pet, how many times do I-” he said before she clamped one of her hands over his mouth, using her other hand to pin down both of his.

“No talking,” she replied. “We’re not discussing the lie or anything else serious tonight. It’s just about you, me, and an amazing few rounds of lovemaking, got me?” She removed her hand to see the wide smile on his face.

“You’ve got it, captain,” he said. “Now, will you stop being such a tease and reward me?”

“Does my puppy want to play?” she asked, moving up so that the tip of his erection was positioned at her entrance. “I don’t know if you deserve this yet, puppy.” He growled quietly and pouted, getting her to giggle. “Have I ever told you how adorable you are when you pout?” He licked his lips, and she leaned down to kiss him before she sank down on his shaft, squeezing his hands in hers as her hips met his. He tilted his head back, groaning. “Oh god.”

“Don’t you dare stop now,” he said quickly, and she laughed breathlessly, beginning to move on top of him. “Christ, luv, give a fellow a minute to compose himself.”

“You seriously want a minute?” she asked, frowning. “I don’t think you’ll last, either way.”

“That a challenge?” he joked, thrusting his hips up and getting her to moan.

“Bad puppy,” she said, swiveling her hips and getting him to groan again. “Do I have to remind you that I’m the one with the power?”

“Fine, be in complete control,” he said. “But please don’t deny me the ability to touch you.” She let go of his hands and smirked when he sat up, her now on his lap as he grasped her hips. “Isn’t this better?”

“I liked being slightly dominatrix-y,” she said, pouting. “You’re no fun.” He laid her back on the bed and thrust into her deeper, getting her to practically shriek with pleasure.

“Sure about that?” he asked in a low tone, running one of his hands down her side and in between their bodies, gently rubbing her clit. Her hips bucked against his as she moaned loudly.

“No, I was definitely wrong,” she said. “Going to punish me?” He practically came from the images running through his head and stopped moving to stave off his orgasm.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, and she grinned, nodding. “I’m not surprised, you vixen.” They began moving together, enjoying the delicious friction between their bodies. He leaned to her ear after a long while and whispered, “I love you, Buffy.” She looked into his eyes as tremors began to wrack her body, her orgasm washing over her, which in turn triggered his. She buried her face in his neck, trying to catch her breath, while he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“I love you, too,” she said quietly, kissing the crook of his neck. They laid in silence for a moment, both thinking about everything that had happened between them. She took a deep breath and looked at him once again. “Want to ravage me now?” He growled, getting her to grin, before attacking her mouth with his.

One Year Later



Buffy sat in the living room of her apartment, surrounded by several of her friends, as they eagerly awaited the stripper Anya had ordered for Buffy’s bachelorette party.

“Who would’ve thought that you’d lose your prudish side and decide to marry a stripper?” Anya asked, looking at Buffy. “Can’t say I ever expected it.”

“Says the girl who ran off with the photographer for her wedding and married him a month later,” Buffy said, smirking. “How is Xander, by the way?”

“Ever so talented at supplying me with orgasms,” Anya answered. “Thanks for asking.” Willow and Tara shook their heads, not surprised at how blunt Anya unfailingly was.

“So, Buffy, you’re okay with Spike staying on as a stripper?” Fred asked, and Buffy shrugged, smiling at one of her newest friends. Spike had introduced her to Wesley and Fred months before, along with the rest of his fellow employees at Not All Old Hat. After seeing how happy Fred and Wesley were together, Buffy decided that she was okay with Spike continuing to strip, knowing fully that he’d be faithful to her despite the kind of job he had.

“He’s happy, so I’m happy,” Buffy answered. “I’d rather have him do something he enjoys than something he loathes.”

“And I’m sure his skills help in the bedroom,” Anya added. “Don’t they?”

“I have a feeling Spike would be talented even without the talents he picked up as a stripper,” Cordelia said. “He’s practically sex on a stick.” Buffy looked at the brunette. “No worries, Buffy- I’ve got Angel now.”

“Maybe I should enroll Xander in some type of stripping courses,” Anya said. “He’s a stallion, but I want him to-”

“Please don’t finish that train of thought,” Willow cut in. “Lesbian, remember?”

“Fine,” Anya said, getting up and grinning widely as the doorbell rang. She answered the door and raised an eyebrow when a man walked in, wearing a tweed suit. “You’re the stripper?”

“Rupert Giles,” the man said sternly, shaking her hand. “And no, I’m not stripping- I’m just here to observe. I retired last week and now am in charge of monitoring my protégé.” Everyone looked at the door as Andrew strolled in, wearing purple leather pants, a white pirate-like shirt, an eye-patch, a purple bandana, and a black boa for some extra flare. Anya and Andrew stared at each in other in shock.

“Oh my god,” she said quietly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly before pausing for a moment. “How’ve you been?”

“You’re a stripper?” she asked, stunned, and he nodded. “Why?”

“Well, after watching Spike strip at your party, I gave it a lot of thought and considered it,” Andrew explained, looking down. “I contacted Spike, and he told me to come in and talk to Cordelia.” Anya turned to look at her friend.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” she yelled. “You employ my ex-fiancé?”

“I didn’t think it was my place to tell you,” Cordelia said, crossing her arms. “Besides, you two are totally ruining the fun. This is supposed to be Buffy’s last bash as a single woman.”

“Oh, trust me- this is a lot more fun than watching him strip, I’d bet,” Buffy said quietly, giggling with Willow and Tara. “You two should probably talk about this.”

“Did you leave me to become a stripper?” Anya asked, turning back to face Andrew, who shook his head.

“I left because I knew we weren’t in love as much as we should’ve been,” he answered. “Plus, I wanted to go to the Star Wars convention, which was the same weekend as our wedding, coincidentally. Or maybe you just planned it that way to keep me from having fun there with Warren.”

“Hold on just a minute, buddy,” Anya said, pointing her index finger at him. “You were the one who chose the date, not me!”

“What’s the commotion?” Spike asked as he walked into the apartment, seeing Andrew and Anya a few feet away. “Hey, Andy. Nice outfit.” Andrew smiled at Spike before looking at Anya again.

“Why’re you here?” Buffy asked, standing up and walking over to her fiancé. “You’re supposed to be out with the boys.”

“Forgot something,” he said, shrugging. “I’m meeting up with them in a few minutes.”

“What’d you forget?” she asked, and he took her hand in his before looking at Rupert.

“How’s retirement going?” Spike asked conversationally.

“Not nearly as fun as having lovely women hoarding over me,” he joked lightly, and Spike chuckled before leading Buffy to her bedroom and shutting the door.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, becoming a little worried.

“Well, I wanted to run an idea past you,” he said, sitting her down on the bed before kneeling down in front of her. “Cordelia offered to let me help manage Not All Old Hat with her instead of stripping from now on.” Buffy raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“Is that what you want to do? Not strip anymore?” she asked, and he nodded. “Why not?”

“Because I want you to be happy,” he said. “And I know you’d always wonder what was going on if I continued to do stripping jobs every night.”

“I trust you,” she said, and he grazed her cheek. “I want you to do what makes you happy.”

“I think I’ll be just as happy helping Cordelia run the place,” he said. “So, should I take it?”

“If that’s what you want to do,” she said, and he nodded. She leaned down and softly kissed him. “When do you switch jobs?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered, and she smiled, standing up. “What?”

“Want to give your last performance here tonight?” she asked, and he smirked.

“You want me to?” he asked, and she nodded, grabbing his hand and walking back to the living room with him.

“If it’s alright with all of you, my gorgeous soon-to-be husband wants to give us a show,” Buffy said, sitting back down on the couch beside Willow. Spike grinned as everyone clapped before going to Buffy’s CD player and turning on a song that played during The Full Monty, called “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summer.

Everyone watched in surprise as Rupert and Andrew moved to stand beside Spike, all three beginning to dance to the music, pulling off their shirts at around the same time. All of the women clapped, watching them in delight. Spike smiled at Buffy and began to work on his jeans, and before he knew it, she was standing in front of him, blocking him from view.

“No else gets to see what you hide away,” she said, turning to face her friends. “Sorry, girls, but he’s mine.” She grabbed his hand and yanked him into the bedroom, closing the door and locking it. “I don’t think you’ll be meeting your friends for quite a while tonight.”

“Fine with me,” Spike said, smirking. “There’s only one person I want to spend the night with.”

“Just one night?” she asked, pouting, and he embraced her, pressing his forehead to hers.

“No,” he answered. “Every night for the rest of my life.” She smiled and kissed him. “Along with every waking moment.”

“Is that the poet in you, William?” she asked jokingly, and he chuckled.

“The poet in me is what brought us together,” he replied, and she nodded, smiling.

“And every day since we met has been amazing,” she said. “Minus the bumps in the middle.” He grazed her cheek and kissed her softly. “But I don’t regret any of it, and neither should you. It all forms a story. Our story.”

“A story, eh? I guess you’re right,” he said, studying the content look on her face.

“How do you think our story goes?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Well, there was once this dashing stripper who walked into a bookstore and swept the cashier off her feet,” he began, and she fell back onto the bed, pulling him down with her, both laughing as he landed on top of her. “I thought I was telling you our story?”

“You can play storyteller later,” she said, running her hands over his back. “I just want to enjoy pre-marital sex a bit more.” He chuckled and swooped down to kiss her.

“I love you, Buffy,” he said, and she bent her knees up, allowing him to settle between her thighs.

“I love you, too, William,” she replied. “The sexiest ex-stripper in all the land.”


THE END

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A/N I want to thank everyone who enjoyed this story and reviewed! I'm happy so many people liked it, especially since I had such a great time writing it. I once again need to thank Katie for giving me the inspiration for this story, along with her support!

I'll be posting my new AU, "Falling For A Redcoat", on Friday, July 1st, since the story coincides with the week surrounding July 4th. It's a short, sweet, fluffy romantic fic, so I hope you'll try reading that one, too. Thanks again, and feel free to review some more!:)